Kendall Burnett and Pat Flaherty in The Sunshine Boys
In a rundown of Broadway colossus Neil Simon's 33 works, the culture editors of New York magazine listed The Sunshine Boys among his four best scripts (if you count the Brighton Beach Memoirs triptych as one). The play debuted on Broadway in 1972, was nominated for three Tony Awards, and Simon himself adapted it once for film in 1975 and twice for television broadcasts later, in all cases expanding the cast and revising the script substantially. Moline's Playcrafters Barn Theatre first presented The Sunshine Boys in 1983, and Friday's opening-night performance of director Jane Watson's current presentation drew lots of big laughs from a smallish crowd. This one definitely deserves a bigger audience.
A skilled and busy actor for decades, Pat Flaherty is the king of Quad Cities stages, and he reigns sublimely here as the irascible Willie Clark, a once-upon-a-time star who lost his livelihood when his vaudeville partner Al Lewis suddenly retired after 43 years performing together. Willie hasn't spoken to him in 12 years. He's bitter, and who could blame him? Yet thankfully for the audience, which came to see a comedy, Simon, Watson, and the cast make the situation laughable instead of pitiable. Flaherty, especially, impressed me throughout. He has utter command of the actor's toolbox – the arts of delivery, physicality, and timing, as well as the crafts of diction and volume control. (I met him 42 years ago, we've been in some shows together, and I can aver that, unlike Willie, he's classy and genial offstage.)
Tim Burrow portrays Ben, Willie's nephew and theatrical agent, as continually frustrated with the vaudevillian's stubbornness in every aspect of life. It's challenging to play against a character who is The Comedian, but Burrow is not just The Straight Man – he has funny lines of his own, and his dialogue flow is very good. After battering himself against the Wall of Willie for a while, Ben manages to convince him to reunite with Al to do one of their classic sketches in a television special. If Willie is this play's cranky mask of tragedy, his former partner Al, played by Kendall Burnett, enters as the sanguine countenance of comedy. Al walked away from his vaudeville fame, and now he's placid amid the noise and the haste of ... . Well, Willie. Placid at first, anyway.
Burnett, an alumnus of this venue's 2022 Simon offering The Odd Couple and other shows, strikes a wonderful balance between polite gentleman and quarrelsome stage partner. (Al's close-talking habits really are annoying.) Teresa Moore plays a formidable opponent: the registered nurse who verbally spars with her charge. Willie is used to overwhelming others with quips and insults, but she's seen and done it all. This character (credited as "Registered Nurse") casually rolls with every punch and gets in several comical jabs of her own, and Moore's delightful deadpan performance made me wish she had more scenes.
Scott Gehret is quite convincing as the TV special's harried, exasperated director (and I've known a few). His wardrobe really sells it, so I'm also applauding costume designer Jesslyn Cohen, who provided Willie with, among other outfits, awe-inspiring baggy, red-and-white-striped silk pajamas, Al's perfectly dapper suit, and Ben's handsome and rigid three-piece number – the buttoned-down-est I've seen in a while. Elane Edwards and Greg O'Neill make brief but sweet appearances in the vaudeville sketch as the cheery nurse and the woebegone patient, respectively, while Kaylee Gunding gets in a couple of amusing bits in her minor role as Eddie, the TV studio's assistant director.
Although Act I crackled with quip after quip – the pacing was excellent – and Simon was a consummate comedy writer, any given actor can't just speak his lines. Shrewd, skilled performances are just as vital to make the funny work, and Watson's cast had theirs down cold. However, the rehearsal of the doctor sketch that opened Act II dragged. I longed for the frenetic pace, wackiness, and over-exaggerated acting style of vaudeville comedy. Also, some ridiculously enormous padded shapewear could have helped sell the requisite T-and-A jokes.
Still, there were several wonderful touches throughout this Sunshine Boys, among them: the classic 1920s Gershwin tunes ("Rhapsody in Blue," "An American in Paris") that opened each act; the full-size skeleton; Willie's gorgeous barrel chair; the nostalgic decorative wood trim around the doors; and the old-school working TV set and its attendant sound cues. (It only displays static, of course, but it does work). More applause for set and sound designer Skip Greer, properties master Marcia Templeman, and all involved.
I didn't detect any maudlin, bittersweet, or even faintly melancholy moments in this production. It's all about the laughs, which works splendidly for me. Simon wrote this script while in his mid-40s, and I wonder if it would have skewed toward the morose or sentimental if he'd written it when he was Willie's age. As for us, we're now standing on the verge of the gloomy part of the year. So take in a little Sunshine while it's still here.
The Sunshine Boys runs at the Playcrafters Barn Theatre (4950 35th Avenue, Moline IL) through October 27, and more information and tickets are available by calling (309)762-0330 and visiting Playcrafters.com.
