Playwright: Noel Coward ( adapted by Roderick Dixon ) . At: Writers' Theatre at Books on Vernon, 664 Vernon, Glencoe. Tickets: 847-242-6000; www.writerstheatre.org; $60. Runs through: March 21
No one was more self-congratulatory than Noel Coward ( 1899-1973 ) . Read his voluminous diaries and you'll find that self-doubt and self-criticism are "seldom, if ever, done" to quote a Coward lyric. But to sing his songs in a self-congratulatory manner is utterly fatal—an error made far too many times in previous productions of Oh Coward! Fortunately, Writers' Theatre director Jim Corti and music director Doug Peck do not repeat this mistake.
Precocity aside, Coward was a product of his times and Lower Middle Class upbringing. His humorous songs and novelty numbers descend from English music halls and Gilbert & Sullivan while his serious songs come from Victorian sentimental ballads and operetta. Absorbing popular musical styles, Coward might trot out a tango or a jazzy riff for effect without really straying from his roots. One must sing his funny songs for the Average Joe and let the cleverness speak for itself, and deliver his romantic and moody material with earnestness of sentiment.
With precious-few faults, this is what veteran singing actors Kate Fry, Rob Lindley and John Sanders ( and pianist Chuck Larkin ) do. The program provides no song list ( it should ) so I don't know what I missed by arriving late ( the night of rain-turning-to-ice, making driving treacherous ) . Act I highlights I did catch include "I Travel Alone" done as a close-harmony trio, and songs from Coward's early revues and late musicals which emphasize the music hall tradition such as "Saturday Night at the Rose and Crown."
Act II, with the cast changing from business dress to formalwear, emphasizes more of Coward's moody and romantic repertory—such as "You Were There" and "Someday I'll Find You"—offered with appropriate simplicity. It's been done before, but having a man ( Rob Lindley ) sing "Mad About the Boy" acknowledges Coward's homosexuality, something Coward never acknowledged publicly. The production's only serious stumble also is over Coward's specialty tune, "I've Been to a Marvelous Party." It's slowed down so much, with lyrics over-emphasized, that it loses the giddy spontaneity which is its essence.
That misstep aside, it's a stylish and handsomely presented evening in the tiny Books on Vernon backroom that scenic designer Kevin Depinet transforms into a sleek Art Deco salon, with polished black-and-white floors, white columns and crown moldings, silk-draped cafe tables and a high-gloss ebony piano. Jesse Klug's lighting provides a warm glow complete with petit café table lamps.
One enters another world—or should—when enjoying Coward and it's not one of champagne and money. ( Rarely are any Coward works about money. ) Rather, Coward's world is one of high spirits and surprising wisdom authored in an arch way that challenges performers to discover the truth behind the surface style. This production of Oh Coward! finds it.
