Sunday, October 12, 2008
A+E, Theater, Reviews

Domestic disturbance

White House butler isn’t well-served

Courtesy of Barry Scott
Barry Scott in “Looking Over the President’s Shoulder”

“LOOKING OVER THE PRESIDENT’S SHOULDER”
Theatre in the Square
770-422-8369
www.theatreinthesquare.com
Through Nov. 9

 

BY BERT OSBORNE

As Alonzo Fields notes in “Looking Over the President's Shoulder,” “A good servant tries to not call attention to himself.” He should know, having “served the country” as chief butler at the White House for 21 years and four administrations (Hoover, FDR, Truman, Eisenhower). Unfortunately for this one-man play by James Still, however, the character of Fields doesn't call much attention to himself, either.
 
Besides a few prefatory tidbits about his thwarted operatic career—during the Depression, “Music was a luxury I could hardly afford”—and a fleeting mention or two of his vaguely ailing wife at home, Fields primarily waxes about being on the “front row for a passing parade of history.” Each of his elected employers gets his due time; likewise, their wives, other heads of state (Winston Churchill), various members of the kitchen staff, even the occasional movie star (Errol Flynn). The vignettes are involving enough, but they aren't especially informative (as history) or insightful (about Fields).
 
Harry Truman and Eleanor Roosevelt come off best in Fields’ rose-tinted recollection of events, which unfolds as he waits for a bus after his last day on the job (in 1953). Although the playwright means to be more critical of FDR, for making Fields feel “tolerated” rather than “understood,” Still’s a fine one to talk—he rarely provides us with ample reason to view Fields any differently ourselves.
 
Scenes intended to resonate on some deep personal level ring hollow: Fields laments the loneliness of spending his holidays working White House functions instead of staying at home with his own (non-entity of a) family; hearing an unprecedented recital by Marian Anderson is nearly as incidental as a chance encounter with Marie Dressler; and a couple of moments in which Fields breaks into song (with passages from “O Holy Night” and “Ave Maria”) seem detached as opposed to organic.
 
Director Gary Yates’ production for Theatre in the Square employs out-of-towner Barry Scott as Fields—odd casting, when you consider the wealth of black actors right here in Atlanta (Yates is one of them himself). Presumably, the vocal demands of the role required unusual measures. Frankly, though, while serviceable, Scott’s singing isn’t that great. That J. Michael receives such prominent billing in the program for “musical direction” is oversell, given the isolated brevity of the show’s two numbers. (It’s possible they could’ve been as effectively incorporated into Sean Barnave’s sound design.)
 
There’s an undeniably powerful “reveal” at the end of the play that has less to do with Fields as a real-life person or as a dramatic character than with his extraordinary talents as a butler. “Setting a beautiful table can be an art, too,” he concludes. It may be a sad sign of those times that a good servant like Fields knew his place, but it’s another matter that “Looking Over the President’s Shoulder” essentially opts to put and keep him there. SP
 

DULY NOTED:

 
Age cannot wither the substantial abilities of actress Joanna Daniel, whose competent work as the latter half of Atlanta Shakespeare’s “Antony and Cleopatra” (directed by Drew Reeves) almost makes you forget she’s probably a bit, er, mature for the part. Nevertheless, she looks sensational in a series of Egyptian wigs, which is more than can be said for Tavern artistic director and co-star Jeff Watkins—hardly her acting equal (his yelling doesn't help), but just as miscast in a wavy blonde toupee. Among the real hairstyles in the show, J.C. Long’s youngish, bizarrely mannered Caesar dons bowl-cut bangs worthy of a Gregorian monk. Already overlong at three hours, a bawdy musical interlude is superfluous, and so is one of those phony fight sequences that, for all the “Arrrghs!” and clanking swords, is too robotically choreographed to pose any real threat. Through Nov. 2. 404-874-5299. www.shakespearetavern.com.