Witty, dark, and delightful, A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder has everything for the perfect musical crime
L-R: Lesley McKinnell as Miss Barley, Kevin Massey as Monty, John Rapson as Asquith D'Ysquith, Jr. ice skating.
Photo courtesy of ASU Gammage.
By Kaely Monahan
Delightfully grim and darkly humorous, A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder, is a (cautionary) tale of overreaching one’s station in life set in Edwardian England. Of course, the idea of not being ambitious is a strange and otherworldly mentality for Americans but is part of the charm of period pieces. Combine the strange British mores and phrases with exquisite costuming, witty banter, memorable music, and humor you have a perfect cocktail mix for a Tony-Award winning musical.
Staged mostly inside a movable English musical hall, complete with clamshell stage lights and a scarlet curtain and a digital screen, the (intentionally) gaudy set brings home the classicist nature of British society. The aristocrats enjoy grandeur, wealth with lush countryside gardens while the poor get views of chimney stacks and gray streets. It’s enough to make anyone with ambition seek a better life.
Enter in Monty Navarro (Kevin Massey), the “homme fatale,” if you will. His life takes an unexpected turn when he discovers he’s the ninth heir to the dukedom of the D’Ysquith family. Prodded by ambition, a desire to right wrongs done to his mother, and unrequited love, Monty crafts a plan to eliminate the eight successors ahead of him so that he can become the Earl of Highhurst Castle, avenge his mother and get the girl.
The jaunty serial murder carefully places himself near the various D’Ysquith heirs, beginning with the single parson in the family. A rather over-zealous fellow by the name of Reverend Lord Ezekial D’Ysquith (John Rapson). He is as fond of his church’s construction, as he is of wine (apparently). A tour of the cathedral that leads up to the church tower provides the simple opportunity to not rescue the hapless vicar when he suddenly loses his balance.
The fall is comically reminiscent of Scottie’s nightmare in Vertigo, or perhaps a more accurate comparison, Mel Brooks’ High Anxiety. Here the hi-tech screen at the back of the stage was put to excellent comical use.
One down, seven more to go, Monty diligently plans his murders which range from using bees to sabotaging an ice skating trip. Throughout the capers, he continues to desperately court the sexy-in-pink, yet arrogant Sibella Hallward, played by the exquisite Kirsten Beth Williams. As she is more concerned about marrying wealthy than for love, she shuns Monty for the rich Lionel — much to her later dismay.
Massey is superb as Monty, imbuing the character with gentle adolescent naiveté at the start to a darkly twisted anti-hero. Yet out of all the stellar cast, and each was fantastic — particularly Adrienne Eller who was the romantic Phoebe D’Ysquith — it was John Rapson who stole the show. He played no less than nine D’Ysquith characters, including the seemingly immortal Lady Hyacinth, who failed to get shot in Egypt, catch malaria in India, and was not eaten by cannibals in “darkest Africa.”
The number of swift costume changes Rapson had to accomplish must be a Broadway record and his acting was an athletic feat that should earn him a gold medal.
Staged mostly inside a movable English musical hall, complete with clamshell stage lights and a scarlet curtain and a digital screen, the (intentionally) gaudy set brings home the classicist nature of British society. The aristocrats enjoy grandeur, wealth with lush countryside gardens while the poor get views of chimney stacks and gray streets. It’s enough to make anyone with ambition seek a better life.
Enter in Monty Navarro (Kevin Massey), the “homme fatale,” if you will. His life takes an unexpected turn when he discovers he’s the ninth heir to the dukedom of the D’Ysquith family. Prodded by ambition, a desire to right wrongs done to his mother, and unrequited love, Monty crafts a plan to eliminate the eight successors ahead of him so that he can become the Earl of Highhurst Castle, avenge his mother and get the girl.
The jaunty serial murder carefully places himself near the various D’Ysquith heirs, beginning with the single parson in the family. A rather over-zealous fellow by the name of Reverend Lord Ezekial D’Ysquith (John Rapson). He is as fond of his church’s construction, as he is of wine (apparently). A tour of the cathedral that leads up to the church tower provides the simple opportunity to not rescue the hapless vicar when he suddenly loses his balance.
The fall is comically reminiscent of Scottie’s nightmare in Vertigo, or perhaps a more accurate comparison, Mel Brooks’ High Anxiety. Here the hi-tech screen at the back of the stage was put to excellent comical use.
One down, seven more to go, Monty diligently plans his murders which range from using bees to sabotaging an ice skating trip. Throughout the capers, he continues to desperately court the sexy-in-pink, yet arrogant Sibella Hallward, played by the exquisite Kirsten Beth Williams. As she is more concerned about marrying wealthy than for love, she shuns Monty for the rich Lionel — much to her later dismay.
Massey is superb as Monty, imbuing the character with gentle adolescent naiveté at the start to a darkly twisted anti-hero. Yet out of all the stellar cast, and each was fantastic — particularly Adrienne Eller who was the romantic Phoebe D’Ysquith — it was John Rapson who stole the show. He played no less than nine D’Ysquith characters, including the seemingly immortal Lady Hyacinth, who failed to get shot in Egypt, catch malaria in India, and was not eaten by cannibals in “darkest Africa.”
The number of swift costume changes Rapson had to accomplish must be a Broadway record and his acting was an athletic feat that should earn him a gold medal.
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Yet the actors would be nothing without the script and music, and the witty repartee came from the genius mind of Robert L. Freedman, whose works straddle both stage and television. Steven Lutvak was responsible for the fantastic score that stayed with you long after you left the theater.
If anything was lacking, and, on the whole, there was little, the clarity of some of the sound was hard to hear. Although Gammage has recently installed a new sound system, there seemed to be a few bugs to work out. At times the actors’ mics sounded low, other times their words just were not clear, but those were few and minor. The overall experience of the show far overshadows the few technical hiccups. A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder will be at Gammage until March 20. Tickets can be purchased online at asugammage.com. |