Eddie Noel Rodríguez as Don Quixote holds forth in Maltz Jupiter Theatre’s Man of La Mancha (Photos by Jason Nuttle Photography)
By Bill Hirschman
Man of La Mancha is always a dependably affecting evening of theater and the Maltz Jupiter Theatre’s current production certainly delivers that.
But there’s something nearly indefinable, something deeper landing this time that makes it special.
Proven in at least five earlier productions down here and hundreds around the world, the 60-year-old musical is eternally relevant: reflecting and commenting on coping with the equally eternal soul-sapping torments of the world.
But this vision directed by Marcos Santana is not simply presenting the struggle dealing with horrid reality by submerging ourselves inside lofty delusion.
It reveres perseverance of integrity and honor and decency along the journey, win or lose, in almost literal spite of what is happening around us.
But finally, what comes across here more clearly than in many other stagings, it proactively argues that it can connect with the hidden battered decency inside others and provide a legitimate hope for the future.
And unlike the fine presentational productions you’ve relished, this one actively calls out to us. It lobbies us in our troubled time that embracing those unashamedly reaffirmed virtues is not folly, but a goal to sustain.
Miguel de Cervantes not only evangelizes to the criminals, but frequently comes to the stage apron to speak directly to us.
One element is actors dive even deeper into the characters’ emotions and project them more vividly. Of course, all artists do this in other work, but occasionally here you forget you’re watching theater, even with the intentional theatricality.
Passion – sometimes straightforward, sometimes banked — imbues every aspect of this production.
For instance, Ariella Kvashny’s Aldonza is not simply earthy, but alternately doleful or fury incarnate, even screeching out her vitriol of rage.
Santana’s staging of her rape, while theatrically calculated, is more violent and disturbing than in the countless other productions I’ve seen.
When Eddie Noel Rodríguez’s Cervantes delivers this critic’s favorite monologue (“And maddest of all, to see life as it is and not as it should be”) the words emerge in haltingly phrased citations of a life that has, indeed, seen the disemboweling horrors of the real world.
But Santana, who has directed this three times, propels the odyssey with a great deal of physicality.
For instance, many of the group numbers feature the muleteers and other characters rhythmically clapping their hands and slapping their thighs to inject a visual and aural percussion to the numbers.
In the scene where the Padre is listening to confessional complaints of the niece and housekeeper, Santana freezes the ensemble posed all over the dungeon like anguished parishioners, including one stretched out at the top of the stairs in a crucified pose outlined in a light that forms a cross.
Santana’s other role as choreographer is clearly on view – taking advantage of every opportunity or dance. It can sometimes be controlled anarchy, but other times, I swear to you, its synchronized Broadway twirls and kicks.
The speaking rhythm of the lines throughout differs from other editions. It starts off almost conversational or naturalistic, but it evolves as the script reaches into near poetry.
The cast is uniformly solid, beginning, of course, with Rodríguez whose Cervantes loves storytelling so much that you can see him peeking out under Quixote despite changing his voice and posture.
His voice caresses the music and his own unique take on “The Impossible Dream” is triumphant.
Kvashny easily ranges her voice from a lacerating growl full of resentment and rage to a melodious croon to an operatic soprano. What is remarkable is her ability to make Aldonza’s transformation credible while still being true to the extremes of where she starts and where she ends.
Santana wisely keeps Jonathan Arana from making Sancho the Jewish vaudevillian that Irving Jacobson originally created. Arana creates a believably jovial and loyal acolyte.
While the leads are from out of town, the Maltz has called on local talent for much of the cast. Especially memorable is local actor-director-musical director Michael Ursua who bestows genuine grace on the show’s second loveliest song “To Each His Dulcinea” (his fifth time in the part).
Also delivering their A-game: Ben Sandomir ss the Innkeeper/Governor, Vince Wingerter as the Duke/Dr. Carrasco, Katie Moya as the housekeeper, Zoe Marín-Larson as Antonia, André Jordan as the barber, and Waldermar Quiñones-Villanueva as head muleteer Pedro.
The ensemble includes Rickens Anantua, Jonathan Eisele, Alexander Blanco, Edgar Cavazos, Kai Horvit, Luis O. Velázquez Cuevas, Michael Scott Ross and Henry Gainza.
The original faux Spanish score is a thrilling masterwork, especially as supervised by music director Paul Tine and executed by his behind-the-scenery band which nails its pulsing rises and falls and races in perfect sync with the onstage emotions.
The band led by Tine; Steve Sigmund, trombone; Maureen Amarl Gay and Rob Ercolano, woodwinds; Ransom Miller, trumpet; Louis Martinez, guitar; Anthony Miranda, percussion; Jeff Carswell, bass, and Roy Fantel, drums.
On the visual side, the highest honor is due the literally stunning scenic design by Tijana Bjelajac and lighting by Mextly Couzin. Yes, there’s the expected firelit circle of seating around the base of the dungeon plus the stairs to and from the Inquisition. But the audience is greeted by a proscenium-high portcullis that we peer through for the first scenes until Don Quixote first appears. And behind it is a four-story barrel-curved wall of stone tiles that loom over the proceedings, shrinking the existence of the characters, making their helpless lives almost insignificant.
Amera Spagnoli effectively provides rags masquerading as clothing, costumes out of Cervantes’ imagination and a stunning Knight of the Mirrors. Nods are due Scott Stauffer’s classroom perfect sound, Kevin S. Foster II’s wigs, Lee Soroko and Ted DeChatelet’s fight choreography, and stage manager Kent James Collins coordinating the work of Garce Cirillo and Lamarr White Jr.
Okay, for the very few: Playwright Dale Wasserman’s premise is author-poet-dramatist Miguel de Cervantes imprisoned in a dungeon common room for having taxed a church and he is awaiting trial before the Inquisition. Meanwhile, his fellow inmates try him, threatening to burn his manuscript of a work in progress Don Quixote. To rescue it, he uses the prisoners to stage scenes from his novel tracking the journey of the slightly demented old Alonso Quijana who believes himself a knight errant.
With his loyal servant Sancho Panza at a muleteers’ tavern (well, he thinks it’s a castle) Quixote sees the life-eroded serving wench/prostitute Aldonza as the ultimate fair lady Dulcinea.
Eventually, his potential son-in-law forces him to see reality. But Cervantes creates at the last minute a revivification that is one of the most moving and uplifting finales in musical theater.
The plot is elevated several levels with the music of Mitch Leigh (virtually his only major success other than as a jazz musician and writing the jingle “Nobody Doesn’t Like Sara Lee”) and lyricist Joe Darion. The original was blessed by Albert Marre’s direction of career-marking performances of Richard Kiley and Marre’s wife, the three-octave Joan Diener (previously Kismet).
As they all would appreciate, this production starts off admirably but grows and deepens into a memorable experience.
Man of La Mancha runs through April 5 at the Maltz Jupiter Theatre, 1001 East Indiantown Road. Performances 7:30 p.m. Tuesday-Friday; 8 p.m. Saturday; 2 p.m. Wednesday, Saturday, Sunday. Running time about 2 1/4 hours plus an intermission. Tickets $70-$180 (premium box seats at the back of the house), Call (561) 575-2223 or visit https://www.jupitertheatre.org.
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