Theater review part deux: The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee

by Christopher Soden of John Garcia's The Column

I can't decide whether William Finn and Rachel Sheinkin, creators of the musical The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee (now playing at Theatre Three in Dallas), are venting cynicism (tempered by humanity) or preciousness (mitigated by jaundice). But either way it's silly, outlandish fun. Perhaps it's the idea that the higher we climb, the more our eccentricities and foibles emerge. Maybe Finn and Sheinkin believe the marginalized are less concerned about fitting in, and therefore, freer to use whatever unlikely tools they need. Perhaps it's something simple and snide, say, anything as trivial as a spelling bee is a freak magnet. Whatever looms at the core of their deranged psyches, even Sheinkin and Finn must realize however pretty and well-adjusted we seem, just about everyone is broken (or in recovery from breaking). The characters in Spelling Bee are merely less adept (or concerned) at hiding it.

Spelling Bee gathers six students (William Barfee, Olive Ostrovsky, Leaf Coneybear, Marcy Park, Logainne Schwartzandgrubenierre, Chip Tolentino) for a regional competition. Along for the ride are Assistant Principal Douglas Panch, Former Spelling Bee Champ Rona Lisa Peretti, and Comfort Counselor Mitch Mahoney. I was under the impression the students were still in elementary school, though conceivably they might be in junior high. It's sometimes difficult to tell, when adults are playing kids. But I don't think anything else would have worked. Kids playing kids here would have been too much, and inappropriate to the chemistry created by adults interpreting childhood.

Each one of the six kids has quirks and disadvantages, and secret motivation for wanting to take home the trophy. Leaf wants to distinguish himself amongst the numerous siblings of aging hippie parents, Olive (essentially a latchkey orphan) wants to earn her parents' affection, and Marcy wishes to bolster her resume. For one reason or another, none of these youngsters have a sense of belonging and "The Bee" has given them opportunity to claim some glory. Each of the contestants seeks validation by winning the prize.

As the withering, chronically congested William Barfee (Bar-fay) John Garcia is a certifiable stitch, wielding the pompous prodigy's droopy, nebbishy demeanor with the skill of a comedy surgeon. When you see Garcia casting the "magic foot" ritual to summon Barfee's spelling skills, it's a testimonial to his ability to get into the character's mindset. We sense Barfee's hubris is a defense against the cruelty of other children. Garcia makes him endearing, yet amusing, in a daffy sort of way. He takes us past Barfee's snuffling, dweebish comportment to the outsider's longing that makes him heroic.

This is an altogether uncommonly strong cast. B.J. Cleveland as Chip, the boy scout with an eye for the ladies, knows how to capture the flirtatious impulses that show men at their most ridiculous. Chad Peterson gives Leaf the sweet, ingenuous mien of a boy raised to move lightly through the world, making his own clothes and happily sporting a cape with abandon and bounce. Alexandra Valle as Marcy, the over-achievement junkie, is touching as the Roman Catholic School girl who is expected to always score a slam dunk and deeply resents being described as "all business."

Arianna Movassagh as Olive, the girl who must deal with long absences from her parents, is waifish and forlorn, looking up with confusion as the audience laughs at one of the numerous blue puns. Megan Kelly Bates, as Logainne, the activist with two fathers as dysfunctional as any straight parents, rounds out the children's roles and it's marvelous to see. She creates a self-possessed, long-suffering young character before our eyes, without apology or cloying devices.

Amy Mills is effusive as Rona, a matron reliving the excitement of her past spelling bee victories. Darius-Anthony Robinson gives grit and street cred to Mitch, who hands out juice boxes as part of his community-service obligations. Paul J. Williams brings his own special gift for giddy, manic neurosis to Douglas, the ambitious and compulsive assistant principal.

The costumes (by director Bruce Coleman) for Spelling Bee were witty, vivid, and accurate, I thought. Chip's Merit Badge sash, Olive's dayglo overalls, and Leaf's superhero togs fashioned from jammies were especially gratifying. Set designer David Walsh's resurrection of school day memories was especially effective, with its ubiquitous tile, encouragement posters, and halls with that strange capacity for seeming chipper yet oppressive. Go Pinecones!