Say Goodnight Gracie, Act II
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Say Goodnight Gracie, Act II
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| Oh Braithwaite, you devil. |
Through Oct. 27, Act II Playhouse, 56 E. Butler Ave., Ambler, PA, 215-654-0200.
Act II Playhouse extended the run of Say Goodnight Gracie soon after it opened — a testament to the nostalgic draw of George Burns ("Who?" my college students would ask) as well as the growing local awareness of actor Tony Braithwaite's considerable comic talents.
Playwright Rupert Holmes crafts a cute excuse for Burns' autobiographical monologue: God's given him a chance to make his case for entry into heaven. Though as corny as the similar set-up in the musical Forever Plaid, it spurs his fascinating, hundred-year rags-to-riches life story.
The encyclopedic rendition deepens when Gracie Allen enters Burns' life. Braithwaite makes his affection for his on- and off-stage partner palpable, and the play becomes a valentine to Burns' beloved.
What's tricky, of course, is that she's not there. Scenic designer Bill Pollock provides photos, and even some video from TV's late-1950s golden age, but Braithwaite must conjure routines, romantic encounters and phone calls by creating his half of each conversation.
Also, as too often happens in one-person shows, he must concisely demonstrate emotional moments — here I am hearing Gracie say she'll marry me, now I'm learning that my friend Jack Benny has died — then rush on to the next narrative point. I'm not sure this is acting, and even less certain that it's good acting, but it's what the script demands. Say Goodnight Gracie succeeds best when Braithwaite recites the team's funniest bits — but how many times can we hear one voice recreating a two-person act?
Kevin Glaccum's production keeps Braithwaite busy and accentuates the visuals, but Say Goodnight Gracie ultimately feels like Braithwaite swimming upstream lugging Holmes' unwieldy script on his back. It's great to see George Burns again — and fascinating to glimpse Gracie Allen through him — but their efforts can't hide the event's contrivances.
In the cold. In the cold of a darkness I see the profile of a beautiful sun, and so, when a pleasure seems a sorrow at the end of the morning, I hear the sensitive wind recalling my faith.
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