Written by Andrea Braun Monday, 01 July 2013 21:08
Leave it to Dr. Franklin to find the loophole.

Director Maggie Ryan (also Artistic Director at Insight Theatre) notes that she wanted to stage the 1969 musical 1776 at least in part to remind us that our representatives have been at odds before, embroiled at a level of bitterness that has impeded progress. As the show opens, motion after motion has been delayed in the Continental Congress, including a preliminary vote on extricating the "United States of America" from British control. There were many reasons to leave the British Commonwealth, but according to the more conservative delegates, equally good arguments for staying under the protection of the Crown. But protection meant "possession" to many, most notably John Adams (an excellent Martin Fox) of Massachusetts, who was obsessed with the cause of liberty, and so the endless arguments and circumlocutions of the art of debate raged on in May 1776, in a blisteringly hot room in Philadelphia. The Congress's president, John Hancock (GP Hunsaker), becomes increasingly impatient with the politicking and posturing, as has everyone else except the relentless Adams.
Much of the dialogue, both spoken and sung, is from historical record. John Adams was unpopular: The musical opens with a chorus chiding, "Sit Down, John," and his exasperated response to the group's inertia, "Piddle, Twiddle and Resolve." Adams and Benjamin Franklin (Tom Murray) pressure a reluctant Thomas Jefferson (Peter Meredith) to write a document listing the colony's concerns directed to King George III, a "tyrant" according to Jefferson and backed up by Adams. Jefferson's fellow Virginian, Richard Henry Lee (Michael Amoroso) has been dispatched back home on Franklin's recommendation to persuade Virginia's House of Burgesses to allow the two representatives to vote for a resolution supporting independence. So, the idea of what becomes The Declaration of Independence was to buy time, as well as present a set of organized grievances. A sense of urgency is added by regular communiqués delivered by a courier (Charlie Ingram) from General Washington, who is becoming increasingly desperate having only a bunch of ragtag troops who will be vastly outnumbered by the well-organized and numerous British machine arriving to put down their little rebellion.
The charming old rogue "Dr. Franklin" understands diplomacy (a word he disdains, nodding toward his past in France) and that Adams isn't capable of it in his state of mind. The latter's only comfort comes from imaginary encounters with his wife Abigail (Janine Burmeister), the words of which are based on their letters. Their love story softens Adams, and the two sing beautifully together. Their duets are one of the highlights of the production. The main roadblock to progress comes, ironically, from Franklin's own Pennsylvania. The other two representatives are a preening John Dickinson (Christopher Hickey), dead set against independence, and the former judge James Wilson (Michael Brightman), who always votes with Dickinson. To secure a resolution, the votes must be unanimous. What to do? Leave it to Dr. Franklin to find the loophole.
There's no surprise ending here. The Declaration is written and approved, and there was a Revolutionary War. So, what's left to discuss are the merits (lots) and flaws (minor) of this well-staged production. It is, first, an absolutely beautiful show. Bill Schmeil's scenic design and Maureen Berry's lights look like famous paintings of the period when in low light and especially behind a scrim that serves as a transparent curtain to delineate the acts, but is also lowered during stop-action scenes in the chamber when actors are engaging with each other outside the room. Laura Hanson's costumes are good, especially in her tendency to dress the Tories more richly than those who favor independence. And the Fancy Dans are shown off to advantage in a number led by Dickinson ("Cool, Cool, Considerate Men"), in which he extols the virtues of stepping "right," not "left," in a clever minuet. Burmeister and Taylor Pietz (a pretty, flirtatious Martha Jefferson who charms Dr. Franklin, which is easy to do, and the dour Adams, which is not) look pretty in their colonial attire. The servants of the court are properly clad: Secretary Charles Thomson (Kent Coffel) is well but plainly dressed, and the custodian (Tom Wethington) looks like what he is. The most interesting choice for me is Adams' attire, which mixes a sensible brown farmer's tweed suit with some sparkle in the vest that demonstrates a side he keeps hidden from everyone but Abigail. Don't look at anyone's shoes, though.
The script of 1776 (music and lyrics by Sherman Edwards; book by Peter Stone) is transitional in a lot of ways, and that may account for its Tony Award success, at least in part, as Broadway echoed the social upheaval of the times. The late 1960s brought Hair, O Calcutta (also in 1969), and other musicals that sent the bridge and tunnel crowd scurrying out of Manhattan. But this is an old-fashioned flag waver with hummable, if not particularly memorable tunes, except for one: "Molasses to Rum" performed by Edward Rutledge (Matt Pentecost), the Alpha dog in the delegation from the Carolinas.
The other delegate, Joseph Hewes (Paul Balfe) from North Carolina, always defers to Rutledge from South Carolina, and "Molasses" is a powerful and disturbing anthem about the considerations of commerce over humanity, and not just from the Southern perspective. Jefferson had included a passage descrying slavery in his original draft of The Declaration, and this almost-aria by Rutledge asserts that his vote will not be achieved, thus negating the whole independence movement if the slavery part is not stricken from the document. The song doesn't even sound like it's from the same show as all the rest, except perhaps the moving anti-war anthem "Momma Look Sharp" that closes Act I and is performed by Ingram, McNair, and "A Leather Apron" (Nathan Hinds). These two songs indicate that 1776 may be less traditional than it seems on the surface.
Insight is dedicated to using students wherever possible—an admirable goal—and Matt Huber, a college senior, is cast as Lewis Morris, a representative from New York. He's very good at delivering his humorous one line in response to every vote: "New York abstains. Courteously." New York always abstains because, as he and fellow delegate Robert Livingston (Joey Otradovec) explain, their constituents have never told them how they want them to vote, so they just don't do it. But Morris develops a mind of his own when he receives word that his wife and eight (younger) children are safe, his older sons are off with the militia, and all his property has been destroyed by the British. Makes sense, right? Well, not so much when the character is played by a young man who could not possibly have had a dozen children, property, etc. There are plenty of older actors around who could have handled this part.
I had never seen 1776, and I admired it more than I liked it. Do be advised if you want to take the kids for a history lesson, however, that it lasts nearly three hours, but the acting and singing are uniformly fine. Zoe Vonder Haar receives credit for the choreography, and Charlie Mueller directs a live orchestra in the pit. St. Louis theater icon Joneal Joplin provides comic relief as Stephen Hopkins of Rhode Island, soberly dressed, but perpetually drunk. Ken Haller as Rev. John Witherspoon, the other man in black, brings gravitas to the proceedings. Charles Heuvelman as the courageous Caesar Rodney is moving as he returns to the convention from his death bed to guarantee that Delaware would be on the side of the angels despite the pesky little fop, George Reid (Greg Cuellar). Jim Leibrecht as the third man from Delaware speaks with a heavy brogue and made a successful motion that the Scottish not be cited in the Declaration as an example of a hostile group. The entire ensemble's singing voice blends are excellent, and I'm sorry that a misbehaving sound system caused some problems with microphone pops here and there.
This is also a timely show, not just because we have another recalcitrant Congress, but of course, because it is nearly July 4, and while it may not be everyone's cup of grog, 1776 is, in all the ways that matter, a worthy effort.
In addition to those mentioned above, the other fine actors in the cast include Tyler Link as the learned Dr. Josiah Barlett, New Hampshire; Troy Turnipseed, as the argumentative Roger Sherman, Connecticut; Adam Stefo as Samuel Chase, the portly man from Maryland who goes home to rally his state's support and is in possession of an operatic tenor voice which adds much to the vocals; and Zack Stefaniak as Dr. Lyman Hall of Georgia, late to the proceedings but with a dramatic moment at the end. | Andrea Braun
1776 runs through July 7, 2013 (no performance on July 4). You may visit www.insighttheatrecompany.com.
Photos by John Lamb.