Saving Mr. Barrett

Speaking of Father's Day (not that we were), one of my favorite movies about fathers and sons is Love Story.

Right, you didn't know it was about fathers and sons because you probably didn't read the novel by Erich Segal - or, more specifically, the novelization that he wrote after the screenplay was accepted and undergoing the lengthy process of being developed into a major motion picture.

Basic story is this: Rich boy who resents his successful but elitist father falls in love with a poor girl whose relationship with her own father is warm, open, and nurturing. Misunderstandings ensue.

The problem with the WASP elitist father, Oliver Barrett III, is that he wants his son to be equally successful in all aspects of his life--sports, academics, love. (Success is, by man's definition, what happiness is.) Oliver IV is particularly resentful of his father's rejection of Jenny, who is not only poor, but also Catholic.

Though the audience is pretty certain of Ollie 4's love of Jenny, Mr. Barrett suspects that his son is merely rebelling against him by marrying this non-Abigail Adams ("or Wendy WASP").

Jenny tries unsuccessfully to help Ollies 3 and 4 better understand each other, and --- SPOILER ALERT ---

... she dies having failed in the attempt. Meanwhile, Jenny's dad bonds with Ollie 4 over Jenny's deathbed.

In truth, Mr. Barrett was quite charmed by the lovely Jenny and, if Ollie 4 hadn't been so antagonistic, might have put his prejudices aside eventually. When he learns Jenny is dying, he rushes to the hospital to be at her (and his son's) side.

"I'm sorry," says Mr. Barrett to Ollie 4.

"Love means never having to say you're sorry," Ollie 4 retorts.

Here's where the movie is different from the novelization. In the movie, actor Ryan O'Neal retains his frosty demeanor, stalking off to start his flashback about the girl who loved Mozart, Bach, and the Beatles. The "Love means never having to say you're sorry" lesson that he learned from his beautiful and brilliant wife turns into a rebuke to his father, a slap in the face.

Ollie 3 deserved better, and he got better in the novelization. Here:

MUCH better ending, in my opinion. Which is why it's one of my favorite Father's Day stories. If only Ryan O'Neal had let himself cry....

Update June 28: I see by my Yahoo News that Love Story stars Ali MacGraw and Ryan O'Neal have had another reunion. In this interview with Hollywood Reporter, Ali calls her famous line "a crock." Whatever, dude. (Didn't Candice Bergen say pretty much the same thing in the sequel, Oliver's Story? Maybe it was some other parody I'm thinking of.)

Ali: "It's a crock." Ryan: "You'd better say you're sorry." Via The Hollywood Reporter.

I've spent years (decades) trying to understand the line, but I think Segal's ending in the novelization illustrates it well: Love is compassion. Love is understanding. When it's mutual and complete, love encompasses an unspoken forgiveness that doesn't require or demand a statement of contrition.

Love, hosaa
sobbing

Stripped Productions and Big Blonde Vocals

Back from Ordinary Days last night at the Round House and will use this to catch up with one other previously unreported artistic experience, the concert version of A Midsummer Night's Dream by the Baltimore Symphony, performed at the Strathmore.

I'm not a fan of overproduced shows, and it's a problem in musicals, especially, when I can't hear the lyrics to the songs. In a show like Ordinary Days, which is sung through, I wouldn't have much of a chance of following the plot if it weren't for the stripped down production--in this case, a pianist (musical director William Yanesh) and the powerhouse vocals of the actors.

I was excited to see a couple of familiar names on the program: adorable Erin Weaver as quirky, neurotic graduate student Deb and the handsome Will Gartshore as man-in-love Jason. Will has been around the Round for quite a while, but I really took note of him in this season's This. And Erin was the fabulous Juliet at the Folger's R&J production earlier this season. That's a little bitty blonde with a great big voice, and she took over Ordinary, too.

Erin Weaver. Courtesy of RHT via Facebook

Will Gartshore. Courtesy of RHT via Facebook

Likewise, the stripped down production of Midsummer was a full concert with seven actors running in and out of the orchestra, changing costumes on stage, and speaking their Shakespearean lines whenever the orchestra put Mendelssohn on pause.

Again, one of the attractions for me is always a familiar name/face, in this case Katie deBuys, who played Shakespeare's Hermia and was last seen at RHT in Seminar. But in this case, the "blonde with the big vocal" and very comical presence was Kate Eastwood Norris as Helena.

Maybe they teach you this in Shakespeare Clown School, but Kate had a way of running hilariously, like Tom Story did in Winter's Tale back at Shakespeare Theatre Company. It involves the arms flapping and flailing over one's head or outstretched in front while exiting (whether chased by bear or not). Anyway, she cracked me up.

Kate Eastwood Norris, via KateEastwoodNorris.com

Levity, lightness, a deft touch and a powerful voice. That's all it takes, and it's what I go to the theater for.

That, and the confetti. ;)

ephemera collected from Ordinary Days at Round House Theatre

ephemera collected from Ordinary Days at Round House Theatre

Love, hosaa
prop stealer