The secret of life is honesty and fair dealing. If you can fake that, you’ve got it made. -Groucho Marx
By Eric George Tauber
SAN DIEGO — On Sundays when I was a kid, local TV stations would show old black and white comedies like the Abbott & Costello, the Little Rascals and of course: The Marx Brothers. And that’s how I fell in love with them. Between Harpo’s gift for pantomime and Groucho’s wisecracks, I was hooked.
At the Cygnet, the Roaring 20s are captured, but not tamed. Sean Fanning’s art deco set expresses the bustling exuberance of the era and Jennifer Brawn Gittings keeps the cast on their toes with lightning fast costume and wig changes, some taking place before our eyes. A sextet of musicians, smartly clad in bow ties and tail coats, begins under the deft direction of Terry O’Donnell and off we go.
The Marx Brothers -who grew up so poor that they often had to sleep on wooden benches in train stations- loved making fun of the pretentiously rich. These folks love to be seen in the paper’s Society section, but must also avoid scandal at all cost. And back then, Jewish blood in your veins counted as a skeleton in your closet.
Which brings us to the home of Mrs. Rittenhouse for a party. The occasion? Her lovely daughter Arabella has no suitable suitors as of yet. So she invites the famously intrepid explorer Capt. Spaulding (aka Groucho) to generate society buzz. I won’t give it away, but the Captain makes quite an entrance.
Josh Odsess-Rubin nails it as Groucho with his quick patter, poignant cigar and elastic facial expressions emoting through a painted on moustache and bushy eyebrows. He even makes some playful jabs at rival theaters and deprecates himself.
Samantha Wynn Greenstone made a nice Harpo with a child-like sense of play and boyish smiles. Some actors count their lines, but a great pantomime can speak volumes without saying a word. And Spencer Rowe captures the Italian tough-guy of the streets persona that Chico crafted.
Lauren King Thompson is as cute as a Kewpie Doll as Arabella, then smolders with narrowed eyes as the cunning vamp, Mrs. Whitehead. Veteran song-and-dance man Russell Garrett is fun to watch as the dutiful Butler Hives and as Roscoe W. Chandler, the society maven with a fishy past.
I would like to have seen more of the spirit of Margaret Dumont (often called “the Fifth Marx Brother”) in Melinda Gilb’s Mrs. Rittenhouse. Dumont’s Victorian stage training imbued her with trilled r’s, over-enunciated elocution and sweeping gestures. These skills were needed to project to the mezzanine without a microphone. But on film, they gave her that air of austere pretentiousness.
Animal Crackers is a Vaudeville lover’s feast with tap-dancing hoofers, a ukulelé played on roller skates, slapstick, sight gags, wisecracks and naturally some wide-eyed young lovers who fall hopelessly for each other. But there’s one thing this show does that an old movie can’t do: break the fourth wall. Break it? They make kindling out of it and practically burn the house down.
If your youth contains happy memories of classic comedy movies, then let Animal Crackers bring you back to a time when you rolled on the floor with uninhibited laughter. And don’t come alone. Bring a younger generation with you to share in the timeless magic of the Marx Brothers now playing at the Old Town Theatre through Aug 13.
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Tauber is a freelance writer specializing in coverage of the arts. He may be contacted via eric.tauber@sdjewishworld.com