From the Ann Arbor News
Friday, May 11, 2001

By CHRISTOPHER POTTER NEWS ARTS WRITER

What a pleasure it is to watch Ann Arbor Civic Theatre once again going full-steam in front of a packed house.

Now firmly (if temporarily) ensconced in the old Performance Networ building, AACT has brought Alfred Uhry's problematic "The Last Night of Ballyhoo" to such sparkling life I could scarcely believe I was watching a play that's both flat and overwrought on the printed page.

In book form, "The Last Night of Ballyhoo" mostly focuses on revealing the anti-Semitism prevalent among American Jews in the first half of the 20th century. The time is 1939, and the socially prominent Freitags of Atlanta epitomize long-entrenched Jews of German heritage, many of whom practiced exclusionary tactics toward Jews of Russian, Polish and other East-European stock.

Strangely, only one member of this loose-knit family (which includes two widows) seems truly bigoted toward "the other kind." Boo Levy - mother to daughter Lala, sibling to bachelor brother Adolph, and aunt to niece Sunny - seems inserted into the play for two purposes: to heap ethnic slurs at company-owner Adolph's newest employee, Brooklyn import Joe Farkas, and to behave as a wicked-witch social climber who never has a nice moment, much less day.

Yet on stage this caricature turns into a believable, sympathetic woman thanks to the ministrations of Christie Farris Oberg. A great actress, Oberg creates a Boo plagued by a great, gnawing desperation.

Her pain is so vivid that even her toadying up to rich, eligible bachelor Peachy Weil (Michael Roehrig) for Lala's sake seems less obnoxious than sad. (And oh, what a debt Uhry owes Tennessee Williams' Amanda Wingfield.)

Dayna Whoodhams, another actress of great power, puts the right spin on chattery, vulnerable romantic Lala. Yet she's hampered by her own physical heft: She looks capable of decking anyone else in the cast.

Petite Melissa Henderson faces a different problem as brainy, beautiful cousin Sunny: Shrill, unsure and not at all dominant, she seems far too weak for Uhry's most knowing and sensitive character.

Not so Sam Zwetchkenbaum, who plays Joe as a tough, plain-spoken, devout Brooklyn Jew whose zeal gradually awakens the Freitags (none of whom even speak Yiddish) to their cultural-spiritual heritage.

Francyn Chomic works wonders as Sunny's widowed mom Reba, forced by Uhry to veer wildly between hopeless inanity and deep wisdom. Chomic grasps Reba's smarts, forging a woman who's a quiet cornerstone of love. And I can't say enough for Roehrig's turn as freckle-faced snob Peachy, whose sense of tall-tale humor is so close to my own I found myself both amused and embarrassed.

David Keren infuses the juice of humanity into nominal household head Alfred Freitag, a supremely nice fellow whose lifelong bachelorhood is unfathomable. Even Alfred's absurd recall of a true love he never met is lent some punch by Keren's capacity to communicate even the patently false.

Starkey milks this imperfect show for all its worth, a show helped immensely by a living-room set whose big, heavy furniture looks like it's been lived in for decades. Way to go, Civic.