Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

Director takes sides with 'Seasons'

Despite all the awards that have been showered on it, "A Man For All Seasons" is more of a curiosity than a good play, full of a one-sided argument that makes you want to yell back. The Nevada Conservatory Theatre production is earnest, a tad dull, but full of flourishes that can be easily enjoyed.

Robert Bolt's 1961 script gives us the moral battle between Sir Thomas More, chancellor of England, and King Henry VIII, having to do with whether or not the pope has divine power in vetoing Henry's marriage to Anne Boleyn. Bolt presents More's purity as a given, and the people who oppose him as buffoons. To Bolt's credit, More's position is not likely to be one most people agree with, so the play is a celebration of courage, not ideology.

Director Robert Brewer gets a lot of mileage out of this almost-drama. The show moves well, and the actors -- five of the 12 being union -- know how to handle Bolt's flowery language. James Sutorius has the backbone of a believable More. He comes across as a man dedicated to doing the right thing, while avoiding the sin of self-congratulations. Phil Hubbard is an appropriately bawdy King Henry VIII, Michael Tylo makes for a robust Duke of Norfolk, and Melanie Ash projects intelligence and grace as Thomas' daughter, Margaret.

G.W. Bailey is an especially pleasing "common man." The former Private Rizzo on the TV show "M*A*S*H" comments on the plot, plays a score of roles, and even changes a good hunk of scenery. Bailey has a chumminess that makes for solid audience rapport.

You sometimes get the feeling Brewer, even with Bolt's one-sided script, has made the mistake of judging these characters. As Thomas Cromwell -- the man devoted to devouring More -- Steve Rapella looks and acts like a cartoon version of an evil Shylock. Brewer turns Jeffrey Koep's Cardinal Wolsey into such a dunce that you wonder how this idiot could get work as a janitor, let alone a cardinal. And while Sutorius is likable, his "goodness" and vocal work don't have the variety to keep us interested for 2 hours and 45 minutes (with intermission).

The stage looks delicious. Jeff Fiala's set -- a maze of dirty white "bricks," platforms and stairs that climax into an image-projecting scrim -- creates a feeling of royal intrigue. Kelly James-Penot's costumes give a hint of the fancifulness of the period, without overwhelming the drama. And Ben Elliott's lights and screen projections are stately, subdued, provocative.

I just wish that Brewer weren't quite as sure as Bolt who the bad guys in this story are.

Anthony Del Valle can be reached at DelValle@aol.com.