‘Miss Jean Brodie’ gets one-note treatment

"The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie" encourages us to keep changing our opinion of the characters.

In the hands of actress Charlene Sher, Brodie strikes us at first as a charmingly eccentric teacher in a 1930s private Edinburgh school for girls. Her only fault seems to be a penchant for getting carried away with the artistic side of life.

We're eager to forgive. Her students adore her, and she's obviously inspiring them to use education as a starting point for ideals.

Her boss, the by-the-book Miss Mackay (Elizabeth Bokhoven), appears to be little more than a tyrant who is bent on getting rid of anyone who doesn't kowtow.

By the time the evening is over, we discover things that not only alter our views, but make us question what illusions may be responsible for us having any views at all.

It's a script that keeps deepening as it progresses, but it's getting a one-note production at the Nevada Conservatory Theatre's Black Box.

You get the impression director Mandy Peters doesn't know much about acting. Nearly all the characters are overstated, so that once we're in their company for a few moments, we feel ready to move on to something fresh that never comes.

Sher is a performer of considerable warmth and charisma, but she fakes Brodie's grandness. We don't for a second believe that she believes in her passions. And she doesn't demonstrate the vocal variety necessary to sustain a role that so single-handedly dominates the stage.

Bokhoven is all poses -- hands cupped at the waist; prissy walk; superior, singsonged speaking inflections -- so that it's impossible to see her as a genuine human being.

The college-age actresses mimic pre-teen behavior so exaggeratedly that you keep expecting them to break into a chorus of "Tomorrow."

The only performer who escapes Peters' overscaled concept is Michael Tylo, who manages to make the painter Teddy Lloyd a living, breathing romantic cad who's been made a little nuts with his desire for Brodie.

Thom Bumblauskas' sparse set -- the stage feels bare most of the time except for roll-on pieces of nondescript school furniture that don't seem to belong in a prestigious school -- is visually unappealing.

But it's hard to respond to anything but the flat-footed acting. When perfectly fine performers so collectively go wrong, then it's obvious the problem is a director who doesn't understand her importance in helping shape the talent at her disposal.

Anthony Del Valle can be reached at DelValle@aol.com. You can write him c/o Las Vegas Review-Journal, P.O. Box 70, Las Vegas, NV 89125.