‘How to Succeed’ gets to the business of witty fun
All a boy needs to make it big in business is a girl, a lucky break, a bit of wit and a good book.
Happily, given this election season, that book is not “The Art of the Deal.”
No, the name to remember is “How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying,” which is the 1952 satirical business manual by Shepherd Mead and later the 1961 hit musical with music and lyrics by Frank Loesser and book by Abe Burrows, Jack Weindtock and Willie Gilbert.
“How to Succeed” triumphs once more, as presented by Theatre Under The Stars at the Hobby Center for the Performing Arts. It runs through Nov. 6.
Stellar writing, wonderfully styled sets and a fresh, vibrant cast makes one nostalgic for the great age of musicals.
From the get-go, “How to Succeed” serves up workplace satire that still rings true. The voiceover is from the manual taken up by enterprising young window washer J. Pierrepont (Ponty to his friends) Finch (F-I-N-C-H, which he spells out so everyone will remember).
A voiceover reveals, “How to make money. How to make more money. How to choose the right company (one big enough so that nobody knows exactly what anyone else is doing). How to cultivate the appearance of extreme busyness through strategic desk management.”
With gusto, Ponty sneaks, cheats, weasels, winks and charms his way from window washing to the mail room to a little office as a junior executive to a corporate vice presidency and, finally, after near disaster, to the chairmanship of the board.
Chris Dwan makes an irresistible corporate-climber-with-a-heart-of-gold, always ready to smile, scheme, leap, nod and wink to the audience, or sweep a lady off her feet.
Dwan has excellent company in Ashley Blanchet, who plays a pitch-perfect Rosemary Pilkington, the doe-eyed ingénue with plenty of spine and a willingness to wait for, stand by, and, as necessary, strong-arm her man into a date or marriage. But there’s irony in her fidelity. As she croons of her life to come, satirical asides explode. She’s “Happy to Keep His Dinner Warm” but only “as he looks through me.” Matrimony and suburbia are all about resignation.
In the second act, as Ponty’s colleagues plot his downfall in the executive washroom with a low gruff anthem (“Gotta stop that man”), he psyches himself up, singing to a mirror with undeniable sweetness, “I believe in you.”
Balancing the men’s group numbers are two fantastic ensembles for the women, “Paris Original” (as 10 women find they’ve bought the same “one-of-a-kind” dress for the same event) and “Cinderella Darling” (as the steno pool convinces Rosemary to stand by her man just a little longer).
As powerful as Dwan and Blanchet are, there are scene stealers aplenty. The impeccably timed Arnie Burton is comic gold every time he steps on the stage as personnel manager Bertie Bratt. And late in the moving group number “Brotherhood of Man,” Allyson Kaye Daniel, the hitherto buttoned-up Miss Jones, belts, scats and bustles her way to center stage: brava!
Clunky moments arose, as pacing in the first half lagged. At times, the choreography felt cluttered and obvious, as in “Coffee Break,” where the singing felt shrill and labored.
But this production has Tom Sturge and David Sumner’s excellent scenic designs to thank for great fluidity. The set is like a Mondrian that slides and shifts to reveal a mail room, a steno pool, small and large offices, a boardroom and a washroom.
I was waiting for Trump references and was not disappointed. The dastardly Bud Frump, nephew to the president, shouts as he’s dragged off stage, “Bud will make America great again.” Joshua Morgan played the shiftless schemer, who calls his mother to secure promotions, as a swishing sissy. His committed, articulate performance garners laughs, but it becomes grating.
This styling may feel true to 1962, but it felt too redolent of effeminate (usually gay) villain stereotypes of decades past. Also glaring were women-in-the-workplace issues, as in “A Secretary Is Not a Toy.” The song says one thing but acts out another with the elaborately ogled mistress and sexpot Hedy LaRue, gamely played by Felicia Finley. Funny? Perhaps. Harmless? Perhaps not.
“How to Succeed” is a great show and a real nostalgia trip. But it does seem some things are best left in the past.