A splendid You Can't Take It With You in Ventura

This version of 'You Can't Take It With You' is like a warm hug.

By Daryl H. Miller
Los Angeles Times Staff Writer

November 19, 2007

A visit to the Vanderhof-Sycamore household of "You Can't Take It With You" is pretty much guaranteed to make a person wish for a permanent place in this bustling, happy family.

Sure, the recurring explosions from the basement fireworks laboratory could get on one's nerves, as could the impromptu xylophone concerts in the living room, but those seem a small price to pay for the joyful companionship of people who believe life is too precious to be wasted doing anything other than what one pleases.

The giddy idealism of George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart's 1936 comedy sets just the right tone for the Rubicon Theatre's 10th-anniversary celebrations, and the large cast (18!) enables this admirable Ventura company to invite back many actors who have performed there. Staged with enthusiasm and care, the production, the biggest in Rubicon history, is destined to spread good feeling, though one shudders to imagine what it must be doing to the group's budget.

The genius of this Pulitzer-winning play is that it treats a showdown of American values as a screwball comedy. The Vanderhof-Sycamores, whose philosophy is stated right there in the title, represent one side. The other is embodied by Mr. Anthony Kirby, a Wall Street type, and his repressed wife. The families meet when their offspring fall in love.

The setting is the Vanderhof-Sycamores' living room, rendered by Gary Wissmann as a once-grand, tall-windowed Victorian space crammed with the implements of the family's many enthusiasms.

Leonard Kelly Young's Mr. Sycamore cheerfully shouts every word, his hearing ruined by fireworks experiments. Though perpetually lost in the worlds of the plays she's writing, Robin Pearson Rose's Mrs. Sycamore is never too preoccupied to nurture the happiness of her daughters, one ballet-mad (Sonia Sanz) and zestily married (to mischief-eyed Joseph Fuqua), the other (Winslow Corbett) a working girl who is sparklingly in love with the boss' son (Rick Cornette, whose Anthony Kirby Jr., unlike his parents, uses his head and heart in equal measure).

In supporting roles, Jamie Torcellini and Paul Ainsley employ physical comedy to explosively funny effect, and Stephanie Zimbalist draws repeated applause for her laugh-out-loud turns in two zany roles.

As the grandpa who is the chief live-and-let-live proponent, Robin Gammell is ever the calm at the center of the storm.

One could quibble that the action doesn't reel as out of control as it could, but with her attention to small but telling details, director Jenny Sullivan, a Rubicon regular, achieves something more important: She finds the show's heart. This viewer, for one, had a hard time seeing the last 20 minutes. Too many tears clouded my eyes.

 

You Can't Take It with You
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
By Charles Donelan

You Can't Take It with You, in many ways the greatest of all screwball comedies, gets a stellar production from director Jenny Sullivan and a wonderful, Rubicon record-setting cast of 19. Robin Gammell is outstanding as Grandpa Martin Vanderhof, the paterfamilias of a zany extended family living on New York's Upper West Side in the late 1930s. His middle-aged daughter, Penny Sycamore (Robin Pearson Rose), and her husband, Paul (Leonard Kelly Young), live with him, as do various members of the next generation, including married granddaughter Essie (Sonia Sanz) and single granddaughter Alice (Winslow Corbett).

The action revolves around Alice's nascent romance with Tony Kirby (Rick Cornette), the dashing son of her Wall Street employer, the formidable Anthony Kirby Sr. (George Backman). Alice finds herself in a classic dilemma: The only "normal" member of her large West Side household, she falls in love with someone from the East Side — the coddled son of two very judgmental society types. In order to fulfill their dreams, the young couple must overcome their own prejudices and those of their respective families.

At the Sycamore residence, dad is in the basement with his assistant Mr. DePinna (Jamie Torcellini) for much of the night handcrafting fireworks for sale on the Fourth of July. This of course means lots of random and not-so-random explosions. Essie believes she is on her way to becoming a prima ballerina, despite the fact that her pirouettes around the cluttered living room invariably end when she smacks into something — or someone. Her husband, Ed Carmichael (Joseph Fuqua), seems a harmless enough sort with his xylophone and printing press, but it is Ed's carelessness that sets up the night's most carnival-esque adventure.

The Sycamore clan includes at least five more antic types: a very physical Russian ballet teacher, Boris Kolenkhov (Paul Ainsley); a black couple — the maid Rheba and her fiancé Donald — who just barely evade stereotypical minstrelsy but are nevertheless well played by Colette Porteous and Chris Butler; a drunken actress, Gay Wellington; and a charming Russian duchess who has been reduced by immigration to waiting on tables (the latter two characters are marvelously performed by Stephanie Zimbalist). The result is an evening of absolutely first-rate theater, and comedy of a most heart-warming and universal stripe.

You Can't Take It With You
by Steven Stanley

Kaufman and Hart's 1930s You Can't Take It With You is probably my all-time favorite comedy classic, and any chance to see a production of it is one I can't pass up.  In years past I've seen excellent revivals by (among others) the Colony, Actors Co-Op, and the Geffen, and I've watched the video of the 1983 Broadway revival more times than I can count.  I even got to fulfill an actor's dream by portraying Mr. Kolenkhov at the Center Theater in Whittier earlier this year.  Thus, you can imagine what a treat it was for me to see the Rubicon Theatre Company's production of this screwball gem.

Director Jenny Sullivan and her marvelous cast of 18 have put together a splendid revival which will surely be enjoyed by diehard YCTIWY fans like myself, and newbies as well.

For the uninitiated, You Can't Take It With You is the story of an charmingly eccentric family, the Vanderhoff/Sycamores, who reside together in perfect, if oddball, harmony in a large New York City home.  Patriarch Martin aka Grandpa (Robin Gammell) quit Wall Street decades ago because he "wasn't having any fun." His daughter Penny writes plays because a typewriter was delivered to their house by mistake eight years ago.  Granddaughter Essie longs to be a dancer, though even her Russian émigré ballet instructor Mr. Kolenkhov opines that "she stinks."  Penny's husband Paul, together with lodger Mr. DePinna, makes fireworks in the basement while Essie's husband Ed plays the xylophone and delivers Essie's homemade candies (called "Love Dreams") with hand-printed circulars inside. (The circulars feature quotes by Trotsky proclaiming that "God is the state, the state is God," not because Ed believes in them but simply because the words are short and easy to print.)  African-American maid Rheba cooks meals of "cornflakes and some kind of meat," while her unemployed boyfriend Donald is out catching flies to feed to the family's pet snakes.

Just as Marilyn Munster was the only "normal" one in her family, so too is Alice Sycamore the sore thumb in the Vanderhoff/Sycamore home.  Lovely Alice, who has a humdrum day job working for a Wall Street banker, has fallen in love with his handsome son Tony.  As much as Alice loves her family, she is equally embarrassed by them, and wants Tony to get to know them "in small doses."  When Tony and his parents arrive for a painstakingly planned dinner party at the Sycamore's—on the wrong night, the stuffy Mr. Kirby and his oh-so-proper wife Marian are in for an evening of surprises.

The secret to a great You Can't Take It With You is in the casting, and director Sullivan has assembled a terrific cast.  Robin Pearson Rose is perfection as Penny.  Pearson knows that to get the most laughs, Penny must be played straight, and laughs she does get with her dry offhand delivery of lines like, "You mustn't count the first eight years (of playwriting) because I was learning to type."  Leonard Kelly Young creates a Paul so full of joy that the audience can't help but share his enthusiasm for his firework extravaganzas.  Any actor who can move from the title role in Hamlet to the adorably dim Ed is a master of versatility, and Joseph Fuqua is just such an actor.  Sonia Sanz has oodles of fun as Essie, who is to ballet as Florence Foster Jenkins was to opera.  Sanz's Essie is not only an uproariously bad, albeit earnest, dancer, but a clumsy one as well, bumping into furniture and family members alike.  Jamie Torcellini couldn't be better as Mr. DePinna, who came to the Sycamore home one day and just stayed and stayed.  Collette Porteous and Ovation winner Chris Butler take the potentially offensive (to 2007 audiences) African American stereotypes of the 1930s and play them with dignity and verve.  The only sore note is a crotchety Grandpa Vanderhoff who fails to provide the contagious "joie de vivre" that is so essential to the role.

As Mr. Kolenkov, Paul Ainsley is an adorably big and burly Russian bear of a ballet instructor.  As much as I enjoyed playing Kolenkhov myself, I felt equal joy in watching Ainsley make this over-the-top maestro his own.

Then there are the young lovers, Alice and Tony, the only "straight" characters in the play.  Winslow Corbett, a lovely and spunky heroine, shows much comedic charm, and cries real tears in her romantic scenes with Rick Cornette, a standout as her betrothed.  Cornette, quite possibly musical theater's handsomest leading man, proves himself equally adept at song-free romantic comedy, giving us a Tony who is both debonair and a charmingly awkward boy-next-door.

Tony's parents Mr. and Mrs. Kirby are brought to stuffy, snooty life by George Backman and Allison Coutts-Jordan.  Backman is superbly self-important as banker Kirby, and wait till you see the dirty look Coutts-Jordan gives him when he suggests returning to the Vanderhoff/Sycamore house the night after their unexpected arrival.   

One of the delights of any production of YCTIWY are the cameo roles Kaufman and Hart created for each of the play's three acts.  Dan Gunther, looking much like 1930s character favorite Franklin Pangborn, with period-perfect glasses, pencil mustache, and slicked down hair, is hysterical as IRS agent Wilber C. Henderson, who becomes steadily more frustrated at Grandpa's refusal to pay his income tax.   Stephanie Zimbalist milks every laugh imaginable as she reinvents blowsy drunken actress Gay Wellington (as channeled through Lucille Ball).  Zimbalist returns in the final act as a much more subdued Olga Katrina (Grand Duchess slash Waitress at Child's Restaurant).

The cast is nicely rounded out by Rudolph Willrich, Gregory Johnson, and Zack Neely as the three G-men, or as Penny calls them, J-men.  (I loved Willrich's slapping Ed with Ed's own circulars!)

Director Jenny Sullivan adds many fine and funny touches to the production, yet keeps her actors reality based.

The Rubicon's production looks great.  Gary Wissman has designed a wonderfully detailed set, complete with printing press, xylophone, and dart board. Lighting designer Thomas S. Giamario and sound designer David Beaudry deserve special credit for their offstage fireworks effects.  Shon LeBlanc does his usual fine work with period fashions, though 1930s wigs would have completed the vintage effect better than the rather contemporary hairstyles worn by the women.

Ultimately, You Can't Take It With You succeeds, decade after decade, because of Kaufman and Hart's perfectly constructed script, brilliantly eccentric characters, and optimistic message: no matter how hard times may be, family, friends, and joy for living give meaning—and hope—to life!  This production at the Rubicon ranks as among the very best I've seen.

You Can't Take it With You reunites some Rubicon alums

By Rita Moran
Thursday, November 22, 2007

Rubicon Theatre Company's holiday production of George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart's classic comedy "You Can't Take It with You" proves a strong cast can bring out the flavor of an old chestnut. Under the direction of Rubicon artistic associate Jenny Sullivan, the 1937 Pulitzer-winning play leaps to life with the flamboyant charm of actors who relish their work and have the artistry to define off-kilter characters while making them seem as natural and lovable as old friends.

Celebrating the opening of its 10th season, Rubicon has assembled 18 actors in something of a homecoming ensemble. Chris Butler, a mercurial McMurphy in Rubicon's 2006 "Cuckoo's Nest," returns as the easy, on-the-dole boyfriend of the Sycamore family cook; Joseph Fuqua leaves behind the ambivalence of Hamlet to assume the slow-witted persistence of the live-in son-in-law, Ed Carmichael; Robin Pearson Rose turns from the role of the grieving mother in "All My Sons" to the generous-hearted but offbeat mother of the Sycamore clan; and Stephanie Zimbalist steps out from a series of relatively heroic roles to play two zany extremes, a dead-drunk visiting actress and an elegant but practical Russian countess. And that's just the beginning.

The key role of Grandpa Martin Vanderhof is played with a perfect touch and feel by Robin Gammell, whose previous Rubicon roles, in Albee's "A Delicate Balance" and Beckett's "Waiting for Godot," have been more seriously eccentric. He is so matter-of-fact as the Grandpa who walked away from the workplace 30 years before and now busies himself with snakes and graduation ceremonies that he almost makes you think he's the norm.

It's fortunate for the Sycamore household that Grandpa made just enough before he gave up on work to keep the family precariously afloat. It helps that he managed never to notice initiation of income tax, a fact that catches up to him in the play.

His son, Paul (Leonard Kelly Young), spends his hours devising fireworks and explosives with the eager Mr. DePinna (Jamie Torcellini), who wandered into the home one day and never left. Their efforts are memorialized with highly effective special effects.

When the tale begins, his wife, Penelope, is into writing plays, a hobby she picked up when a typewriter was accidentally delivered to the house. She switches back to painting when a portrait she started of Mr. DePinna as an ancient Olympic athlete is uncovered.

Daughter Essie (Sonia Sanz) is devoted to ballet, even if her eight years of lessons don't show.

All are free to blissfully dally with their unusual interests. The fallout from all that glorious freedom shows up when dinner is served by the very funny Rheba (Collette Porteous) and the menu features cereal and watermelon, among choice items. What's more, nobody is surprised or disappointed.

The only "normal" person in the Sycamore family is daughter Alice (Winslow Corbett, real-life daughter of Gammell), who is a secretary at a local business firm and quite taken with the boss's son, Tony Kirby (Rick Cornette). Their fledgling romance briefly rattles the Sycamores' dreamy lives.

Both of the young people feel obliged to try to get their families together and a dinner is planned. Naturally, all of the family quirks are going full bore when the reserved Kirbys arrive in formal attire one night early. It's one of the funniest scenes in American comedy as the unfettered oddness of the Sycamores meets the pickled restraint of the Kirbys, and it's played to perfection.

As if the Sycamores aren't providing enough oddity, the household is host to a few more zanies (both played by Zimbalist): the wild actress Penelope picked up on a bus to read her latest play and the elegant countess who leaves her crown in place as she shucks her exotic wrap and reveals her waitress uniform. She is introduced by her extravagant fellow ex-patriot, the imposing Boris Kolenkhov (Paul Ainsley).

Luckily, Alice and Tony have their heads screwed on right, and their hearts in exactly the right place.

Kaufman and Hart found an antidote to the disappointments of the Depression in their off-kilter Sycamores. Rubicon's players show that the right cast can chase away the blues of any era for a few happy, hilarious hours.

You Can't Take It With You by Moss Hart and George S. Kaufman

The Rubicon Theatre has come up with a great show for the holidays: George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart's You Can't Take It With You. The set by David Baudry is outstanding and readily accommodates this nineteen-character play, which takes place in the New York City home of Martin Vanderhof, the patriarch of a large, loving, and very eccentric family.

In addition to Martin, who gave up work 35 years ago to pursue his own idiosyncratic interests (snakes, commencement addresses), we find his daughter Penny - played simply by one of my favorite actors, Robin Pearson Rose - who writes, but never seems to finish, melodramatic plays. Then there is her husband (Leonard Kelly Young), who together with lodger Mr. DePinna (Jamie Torcellini, often seen in musicals) periodically create fireworks in the basement.

The rest of the family isn't much saner: the terrible ballerina (Sonia Sanz), her wild Russian teacher (Paul Ainsley), and the straight daughter Alice, played winningly by Winslow Corbett, who loves her family but wants to marry into her boyfriend's (the handsome Rick Collette) straight-laced family. His parents, perfectly played by George Backman and Allison Coutts-Jordon, object, and there in lies the conflict. In the end they are all untied by Grandpa (lovingly played by Robin Gammell) with the realization that love is the most important thing, and the belief that people should be left alone to do what they want as long as others aren't hurt in the bargain.

Outstanding in this impressive group of actors, most of whom are regulars on the Rubicon stage, is, surprisingly, Stephanie Zimbalist, who takes on two roles: the eccentric drunk actress Gay Wellington, and the Grand Duchess Olga Katrina, a local waitress. I say surprising because although we knew she had a sense of humor from her days on Remington Steele, who knew she was also a great physical comedienne? Her drunken actress is one of the funniest portrayals I have seen in years. She alone is worth the price of admission.

The play is well directed by another regular, Jenny Sullivan. She keeps things moving and could, in fact, afford to allow her cast to go even faster, because they know what they are doing. Have yourself a grand old time and go see You Can't Take It With You at the Rubicon Theatre through Dec. 23.