Problems in ‘1776’ lie with director

Good and poor alternate so frequently in Super Summer Theatre/Stage Door Entertainment's "1776," that you get the feeling there was no director at the helm; that the actors just charged into the china shop and broke as few things as they could.

This 1969 musical about the Congressional debates leading up to the signing of the Declaration of Independence presents our founding fathers as lovable old curmudgeons. You're as likely to find them funny as annoyingly silly. It helps, though, that the calendar now reads July, and that the Spring Mountain Ranch feels the perfect place to have a little nonsense fun with American history.

Terrence Williams is a curious director, though. There's not many who would think it okay to cast an obvious nonactor (Kevin Ruud) in the lead role of Benjamin Franklin, or to feature a set design (by Lee Shiver) that is functional but shallow in depth and devoid of attractiveness and color. The outdoor environment cries for visual opulence, but Williams' visuals are afterthoughts -- and tight-budgeted ones at that.

I can't complain much, though, because what you get here is what we might call typical community-theater. No one is going to accuse Williams of being an innovative artist, but he gets most of his actors to say their lines with expression. And now and then a singing voice or a genuinely felt performance peeks through the stream of mediocrity.

As John Dickinson, Chris Mayse is an often amusingly frustrated and dedicated debater. Bobby Rodgers, in the small role of the dying and fiercely patriotic Caesar Rodney, effortlessly communicates passion, determination and sadness. He looks as if he well understands the scars of division and war. And Joe DeBenedetto, in a beautifully understated performance as Thomas Jefferson, manages a complete portrait of a minor character. He projects the power of Jefferson's convictions and greatness, with few words, spectacularly economic gestures, and an unforced but domineering presence. You believe this man had the soul to write the Declaration of Independence.

Little point in dwelling on the many cast members who don't suggest charm, character traits or relationships. The real problem rests with a director who shows little concern for dramatic details. I was perplexed, for example, why the show's best song -- the anti-war ballad "Momma Look Sharp" -- was ruined by Kyle Van Son with excessive movement and robotic gestures. Is it that Williams doesn't yet understand the power of stillness? Or is he too busy with other concerns to take the time necessary to shape the seemingly inconsequential, delicate moments that often make a show?