Oct. 01--"A Gentleman's Guide to Love Murder" did not come easily to the 2014 Tony Award for best musical -- an award without which I doubt you would be reading this review of the opening night performance of the first national tour at the Bank of America Theatre in Chicago. For the very persistent producers of this show, it was a struggle not unlike the darkly amusing one waged by the social-climber hero of this picayune musical about not very much at all, really. Monty Navarro (Kevin Massey) has to knock off all the rivals ahead of his own humble self in a familial line of aristocratic succession that leads to the easy life atop the landed British gentry.
By knock off, I mean murder most foul. Monty's bag of tricks includes such types of killings as drowning, decapitation, causing to be stung by bees and fed to cannibals. I'll stop there. The others should be a surprise. The central joke in the show, which features book and lyrics by Robert L. Freedman and a score by Steven Lutvak, is that the killer is a thoroughly charming kind of fellow, a kind of Edwardian version of Michael C. Hall's "Dexter," only fighting class privilege rather than criminality and a bit less obsessed with cataloging blood. Another way to see the piece is as an episode of "Downton Abbey" wherein a killer is loose. Upstairs and downstairs.
But back to that Tony Award. Aside from the politicking, that trophy was also a consequence of the bravura theatricality of the piece, which features Alexander Dodge's brilliant, miniaturized setting (taking a cue partly from the London playhouses of yore and partly from the toy theaters of Pollock) and very detailed direction by Darko Tresnjak (who has worked often in Chicago theater) with a deft style that carves out a sweet spot somewhere between melodramatic excess and detached irony. Crucially, Tresnjak takes a cue from Freedman's book and always keeps the audience in on the joke, which has the effect of making Monty a kind of Everyman figure, whose quest to take out any and all of the snobby D'Ysquith clan feels like a remarkably reasonable thing to do -- especially here in America, where the aristocracy is merely the 1 percent (a stateside sequel, perhaps).
The other shrewd offering of the material is a tour-de-force role, not for the seeming lead player but for the actor who gets to plays nine roles, eight of whom are characters with the name D'Ysquith. On Broadway, those parts (of both genders) were essayed by the redoubtable Jefferson Mays. On the tour, the jobs go to John Rapson. It took some guts to follow Mays, whose past with the hefty, New York-based SITI Company no doubt informed his transformations into Reverend Lord Ezekial D'Ysquith, Lady Salome D'Ysquith Pumphery and the rest of the overripe tribe. Rapson is more of a traditional comic actor -- his personality informs all of his creations, whereas Mays seems to be subsumed by them. But that doesn't make Rapson any less funny; it actually makes the show more accessible and a little less inclined to disappear into its own esoterica.
I cannot say I jumped immediately on the bandwagon of the "Gent's Guide" when I first saw it in New York. This style -- faux-operetta with a murderous plot -- might not be for you. And you might well think, like me, that this is a pleasing diversion after, say, a tough week at the office, but hardly some profound manifestation of the musical art. I haven't changed that view.
But then as now, I appreciate the craft of the show, especially Tresnjak's superb direction and the exceptionally clever design, which manages to use digitized environments for fun and profit without scuppering the essential Edwardian essence of the whole silly thing. The ensemble is stellar, especially Mary VanArsdel, a comedic talent of the old school, and Kristen Beth Williams. Massey is quite the handsome, lovable fellow and pleasingly elliptical. Unlike some of the tertiary tours that come through town, this all-new one is union-approved, fresh, tight and generally every bit as good as the show on Broadway, which is soon to close.
Chris Jones is a Tribune critic.
cjones5@tribpub.com
"A Gentleman's Guide to Love Murder"
3 stars
When: Through Oct. 11
Where: Bank of America Theatre, 18 W. Monroe St.
Running time: 2 hours, 25 minutes
Tickets: $25-123 at 800-775-2000 or www.broadwayinchicago.com
