TOM TITUS -- Theater Review

Whoever first observed that “there’s no fool like an old fool” may

have come to that conclusion after viewing the original production of

“Morning’s at Seven” -- except for the fact that this adage actually is

quoted in the play.

There are a number of old fools in Paul Osborn’s creaky old comedy

about a familial fracas in middle America, circa 1925, and a couple of

middle-aged dunces as well.

The good news is that they’re generally quite amusing in their

foolishness, thanks to the guidance of director Terri Miller Schmidt and

a mostly fine, well-seasoned cast at the Newport Theater Arts Center.

“Morning’s at Seven” is one of those vintage pieces, like “The Silver

Whistle,” that local theaters disinter every 10 years or so to give their

actors who are a bit long in the tooth a chance to strut their stuff.

Even South Coast Repertory took a crack at it a few seasons back.

It’s a tricky exercise, since the play requires seven Social Security

recipients of better than average acting ability, and the script’s

overriding emotion is indecision. Without effective ensemble

interpretation, the show can fall flatter than one of those pancakes they

serve up at 7 o’clock every morning -- hence the title.

The Newport production has two actresses of exceptional talent, Joanne

Underwood and Teri Ciranna, who portray bickering sisters sharing a home

and, it would seem, one sister’s husband.

Underwood delivers the play’s finest performance as the feisty

spinster perpetually on the defense and fearful of losing her lodging.

Ciranna attacks her role of the wife fervently, lobbying for a change

of venue with the tenacity of a pit bull. Jim McElenny vacillates through

his assignment as Ciranna’s weak-kneed husband, slipping in the

occasional comic bonbon that gives his part more substance than that of

just a casual observer.

The next-door neighbors, the third of four elderly sisters and her

perpetually confused husband, are done by Donna Lee Taylor and Albert

Underwood. Taylor enacts her weepy, giddy character with a splendid sense

of comic poignancy, while Albert Underwood strives weakly for pathos as a

senior citizen who still doesn’t know what he wants to be when he grows

up.

The fourth sister, who’s been kept virtually captive in marriage, is

rendered with a spirited sense of rediscovered independence by Char

Salkin.

Ron Taylor, as her self-styled intellectually superior husband,

appears far too affable for his assignment, missing opportunities for

comic conflict.

The “youngsters” in the family -- Albert Underwood and his erstwhile

fiancee’ -- are nicely etched by John Townsend and Debbi Gordon.

Townsend is maddeningly indecisive as a middle-aged mama’s boy, while

Gordon’s cheery demeanor labels her somewhat out of place in this nest of

loonies.

Director Schmidt and her husband, Richard, have fashioned a pleasing,

naturalistic backyard setting, which places the show somewhere in Booth

Tarkington country. Tom Phillips has supplied the authentic-looking 1920s

costumes. These touches are particularly important to this fragile period

piece.

“Morning’s at Seven” may not win any standing ovations, but in its own

quiet, eccentric fashion, it touches the funny bone, however lightly. And

it gives the area’s more mature thespians an opportunity to shine.

* TOM TITUS reviews local theater for the Daily Pilot. His reviews

appear Thursdays and Saturdays.

FYI

WHAT: “Morning’s at Seven”

WHERE: Newport Theater Arts Center, 2501 Cliff Drive, Newport Beach

WHEN: Thursdays through Saturdays at 8 p.m., Sundays at 2:30 p.m.,

until Oct. 15 COST: $13

TICKETS: (949) 631-0288