by Geoff Hoff~
Usually, the term “reliving your glory days” refers to men who are approaching or have reached middle age, reliving the triumphs they had as athletes in high school, triumphs they haven’t been able to recreate in a life outside that insular environment. In the musical Glory Days, now playing in it’s West Coast premier at the Lillian Theatre, the four friends who meet on the high school football field are only a year out of high school, and none of them had any triumphs. In fact, the main (perhaps only) bond between them is that none of them could get on the high school football team.
Although the production is top notch, the story itself seems, to borrow a phrase from Mr. Shakespeare that may be a bit too grand for this show, to be full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. Yup, this one’s an asshole. Yup, this one’s gay. This one is the writer (you always need a writer or else the play wouldn’t happen, would it?) and this one is the quiet but intelligent rebel. The four friends are gathered together on the football field on the evening before the “Big Game”, by the one that kept them together in high school, with a plan to pull a prank to “get them all back”.
There are two main conflicts in the play, spurred on by the two revelations, the types of which stories like this thrive on. One is that the writer has been writing about his friends and they find his notebook. This moment is played as if it is a devastating, crushing moment, both for those examined in the book, who feel violated by having their lives put down on paper, and for the writer himself, who feels violated for having his work looked at before it’s ready. However, every detail that is “reveled” in the passages read out loud has already been gone over in depth in the casual and sometimes cruel banter between the friends, so it isn’t like the writer has violated their trust by writing it down, or reveled anything that isn’t obvious and already well known. This is not Truman Capote ratting out all his friends. The moment actually seems a little silly.
The other conflict is that one of the four comes out of the closet. This is old ground that isn’t dealt with in any new way, here, except that one of the others can’t seem to come to grips with the news. It is ironic that the final song, sung by the writer, is called, “My Next Story” and seems to be saying that he knows this story didn’t quite work out, but the next one he writes will really be grand. That’s the story I want to see.
This is, first and foremost, a musical, and the music is good in a “High School Musical” or “Glee” belt-your-heart-out kind of way. The songs did tend to blend together a little, but one or two stood out, particularly “Generation Apathy” which had an anger, a sly wit and a musical syncopation that the other pieces didn’t. The voices of the four young actors are all quite good.
Derek Klena played Will, the writer and the one that most wants to keep all the friends together. He was fine in the roll and had a good voice. Matthew Koehler was Andy, the jerk, who has been Will’s roommate for the last year in college. There are some interesting things set up with this character, for instance his reaction to being the butt of the other friend’s jokes, but, sadly, none of them are paid off. In fact, the main opportunity for his “moment” is a real let down, his one solo song is “My Turn” (well performed by Mr. Koehler) in which he finally tells them that they talk at him but never let him speak, and now it’s “My Turn,” but the only thing he says, once he has the chance, is that they never listen to him. If that’s all he has to say, it’s no surprise they don’t.
Ian Littleworth is Jack, who skipped out on college after only a few months to take a road trip across country. Skip is the quiet rebel, brought up in a military family. He is, perhaps, the most intelligent of the four, and is played by, perhaps, the most seasoned and confident actor of the bunch, Alex Robert Holmes.
The set for this production, by Andy Hammer, is wonderful, a corner of the football field complete with banks of floodlights, bleachers, turf and a weathered score board. The set was also very well lit by Jeremy Pivnick. The set was well lit, but he forgot to consider the actors. They spent much time in darkness or semi-darkness and were often staged by director Calvin Remsberg to stand so close to each other during “intimate” conversation that they stood in each other’s shadows so their faces quite disappeared. These are young actors who have not yet learned to “find their light” and were not aided in that by either the designer or their director.
The costumes, by Mara Bear were quite good.
The book of Glory Days was written by James Gardiner and the music and lyrics by Nick Blaemire, both only twenty-five when they wrote it. They are talented writers and can, perhaps, be forgiven the lack of experience or depth presented in this script. I would like to see, though, as the song says, their next story.
Glory Days is performed Thursdays, Firdays and Saturdays at 8 pm and Sundays at 3 pm through April 24th, 2011
The Lillian Theatre is located at 1076 N. Lillian Way, in Hollywood, 90038, just west of Vine off Santa Monica Blvd.
Tickets are $32
Reservations online at www.plays411.com/glorydays or www.brownpapertickets.com/event/159876 or by phone at (323) 960-7792
[...] BITTER These are young actors who have not yet learned to “find their light” and were not aided in that by either the designer or their director. The costumes, by Mara Bear were quite good. The book of Glory Days was written by James Gardiner and the music and lyrics by Nick Blaemire, both only twenty-five when they wrote it. They are talented writers and can, perhaps, be forgiven the lack of experience or depth presented in this script. I would like to see, though, as the song says, their next story. Geoff Hoff – LA Theatre Review [...]