The Bridges of Madison County

        Another outing to the Arizona Broadway Theatre, this time for an unusual adaptation of Robert James Waller’s The Bridges of Madison County. I say unusual because it just seems like such an unlikely plot for a musical: 1960’s, a man comes to Iowa to take pictures of some of the iconic covered bridges there. He meets Francesca, who is somewhat unhappy with her life as a farmer’s wife. Simple plot, right? Obviously they fall in love but don’t know what to do about it. She has a son and daughter, a husband whom she met in Italy after WWII. She loves her husband but not in the same romantic way she loves Robert. The theme is also simple—what our lives are and what we wish they might have been. She decides to stay with Bud and her family and never again sees Robert. The score by Jason Robert Brown was good, although not very memorable or hummable, the vocals excellent, especially that of the two principals, Cassandra Klaphake as Francesca and Bryant Martin as Robert. The staging and set design was also unusual, minimalist, very theatrical. Modern theatricalism is the opposite of realism. In realistic theater, there is a distinct separation of the stage and the audience, with the actors pretending the audience isn't there and the audience pretending they’re looking through a window at the action on stage. All set changes are made behind closed curtains. Most of us got our first taste of theatricalism in Thornton Wilder’s Our Town, a play that openly acknowledges the audience, with set changes made in full view of the audience, with the character called the Stage Manager speaking directly to them and explaining what they are about to see. He carries a few props onto the stage as he speaks to them, telling them where the two households in the town are located. Then a boy comes on stage delivering imaginary newspapers. The stage manager is useful for shifting locations and changes in the times of actions. In The Bridges of Madison County, the sets are minimal, a screen door and a porch with a swing, a kitchen with table and chairs and a chandelier. There is also a technique similar to the chorus in Greek plays. Four or five people were seated to the rear, not a part of the action, but simply there as observers. Whenever the kitchen table and chairs are taken off, four people synchronize their removal; all set changes and the placing and removal of props are done as though to music. I’m not sure what purpose this theatricality served, maybe nothing, maybe a comment on the unreality of romantic love. This was definitely not my favorite musical and I’m reasonably sure I won’t remember it for very long.

            We don’t see many commercials on television anymore because we save nearly all shows and then fast-forward through the junk. But we keep catching the Century Link commercial in which a man tending a barbecue is explaining to another man what a good deal he got on Century Link, internet access and a fee that will never change. The other guy keeps interrupting him, saying, “Oh, yes, it will.” The barbecuer saying “No, it won’t.” This exchange goes on some three times. After the third time, I’m afraid I’d have had to pop the yea-sayer on the nose. Another one we see too often, the Toyota commercial with Pat Finn, the idiot sales guy. Although I don’t think I’d punch him, I would have to put a bag over his head. Amazing that Pat Finn could make an entire career out of playing this yahoo. Just give me the Geico Gecko and I’d watch him all day.