‘She Loves Me’ proves the ideal holiday musical
by Eric Marchese
On its face, “Parfumerie” by Hungarian playwright Miklos Laszlo doesn’t sound like much. Its subject: The workplace interactions of employees at a perfume shop, and an unlikely romance that develops between two of them.
It was enough, though, for Hollywood to film the 1937 play in 1940 (“The Shop Around the Corner”), create a musical version in 1949 (“In the Good Old Summertime”) and update it in 1998 (“You’ve Got Mail”).
Perhaps the best version of “Parfumerie,” though, was never filmed. The 1963 Broadway musical “She Loves Me” proved a great warmup for composer Jerry Bock and lyricist Sheldon Harnick, who wrote “Fiddler on the Roof” a year later, and for book writer Joe Masteroff, who scripted “Cabaret” in 1966.
Despite its impressive pedigree, “She Loves Me” has never gotten the same kind of attention or exposure as other Golden Age musicals. Those lucky enough to have seen it, though, rate it as among the best.
A visit to Chance Theater will convince anyone who has never had the chance, or the inclination, to see the rarely staged show. Under Sarah Figoten Wilson’s direction and Taylor Stephenson’s musical direction, Chance Theater’s staging of “She Loves Me” is the ideal musical for the holidays, combining the warmth of the Christmas season with a most unusual love story.
It’s also a good old-fashioned (in the best sense of that term) Golden Age musical that’s sweet and even sentimental without being gushy. Its fine score and inventive lyrics are major components, but also icing on the cake of a surprisingly substantial script.
Set in a little shop in Budapest which sells perfume, ladies cosmetics and gift items, the story revolves around Georg Nowack (Stanton Kane Morales), the store’s manager, and Amalia Balash (Erika C. Miller), its newest employee.
The pair get off on the wrong foot, and light antipathy soon escalates into a feud. Things only get worse when Amalia tries to leave work early one evening for a blind dinner date with the “lonely hearts” newspaper ad pen pal she knows only as “dear friend.”
Under a cloud of unease and tension, with the shop’s normally easygoing owner, Mr. Maraczek (Beach Vickers), prickly and out of sorts, Georg quits. The reasons for Maraczek’s anger emerge gradually, ingeniously figuring into the play’s latter scenes.
Georg and Amalia aside, a second love-hate relationship develops between co-workers Kodaly (Stephenson), a slick ladies man, and Ilona (Camryn Zelinger), a sexy single gal with a habit of choosing jerks.
The show’s sweetly romantic story, characters and songs are agreeably offbeat and quirky, and its quaint world of etiquette, manners and good taste is far-removed from our cold digital era. That makes Chance’s production of “She Loves Me” all the more welcome.
Pianist Ryan O’Connell and violinist Tina Nguyen’s subtle, expressive playing boost a score that boasts an authentic Central European/1930s flavor. Each character has at least one musical solo, which plays to the strengths of Wilson’s top-notch cast.
Miller captures Amalia’s nimble mind, love of literature and well-concealed self-doubt. She’s utterly convincing in showing her ever-shifting view of Georg: At first he’s a “smug, petty, pompous and not very bright” guy but soon becomes tolerable. Next, he’s sympathetic, then dear, then cherished.
Morales shows the reserved Georg’s anxiety about meeting “dear friend” face to face, his consternation when he learns it’s Amalia, and his exultation and amazement that her dislike of him has turned into something sublimely wonderful.
Stephenson is a handsome Kodaly who’s aptly smug and obnoxious. Zelinger responds with a high-strung Ilona who lives for romance – and whose rocky affair with Kodaly sparks her vow that she’ll never again be anyone’s fool.
Vickers delivers affecting work, his Maraczek fading into old age while feeling that all is slipping away. Corky Loupe nails the middle-aged Sipos’ appealing insecurity, and Daniel Jared Hersh is as fresh-faced and eager as Arpad, the shop’s naïve delivery boy.
Exemplifying the show’s solid ensemble work is Matt Takahashi’s memorable comic turn as the frazzled, finicky head waiter of the café Georg and Amalia have chosen for their first rendevous.
Scenic designer Bruce Goodrich’s fold-out perfume shop is ingenious, and the décor is quaint, tasteful and refined, with an exquisite level of detail in the many well-stocked shelves. It’s all backed by a stunning watercolor-like cityscape of the streets of Budapest.
That makes a visit to those streets, and to Anaheim Hills, a must for all lovers of Golden Age musical theater.
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