There’s a situation ripe for comedy in Ron Hutchinson’s Moonlight and Magnolias, now onstage at the Golden Apple Dinner Theatre in the inaugural production of the nonprofit PLATO organization presenting its shows there. And there’s more than a little bit of truth to the story of how legendary producer David O. Selznick, legendary writer Ben Hecht and legendary director Victor Fleming spent a week in a locked room to produce a finished script for the titanic movie Gone with the Wind.

First of all, you’ve got the nature of the men themselves: Selznick (Chris Caswell), a Jew and the son of a failed father, still feeling like an outsider in Hollywood and rolling all the dice to forge ahead with his masterpiece; Hecht (B.J. Wilkes), the Chicago newspaperman who’s also a Jew and leans liberal in his politics on the verge of World War II; and Fleming (Ryan Fitts), the sort of tyrannical but accomplished director who can get away with slapping Judy Garland during production of The Wizard of Oz, just because he is who he is.

And then there’s the boiler-room pressure of trying to do the impossible: rewrite the script of Margaret Mitchell’s massive novel to shape it into a viable if still long movie, in just five days. Throw in Selznick’s obedient but increasingly frazzled secretary (Alana Opie), his belief that “digestive juices will interfere with the creative ones” (thereby serving his collaborators only bananas and peanuts to eat) and finally, this conceit: Hecht, despite the millions of ardent GWTW fans, has never read the book. So Fleming and Selznick have to act out the storyline for him.

It sounds like fun, and occasionally it is. But Moonlight and Magnolias never really achieves the level of frantic comic pace it seems like it should, despite the discarded papers littering the floor and the dishevelment of both mind and body that comes with little or no sleep for the characters. The playwright, understandably, throws into the mix the discussion of racism, both in the Civil War-era novel (there’s a lot of dialogue about that famous slap of slave girl Prissy) and in Hollywood itself, where Jews may run the studios but aren’t really members of the town’s exclusive “club.” But too much talk, at high volume, threatens to make the audience tune out.

The cast, under the direction of Carole Kleinberg, certainly works hard, throwing themselves into the physicality of their roles. None of them is particularly reminiscent of their real-life counterparts; Caswell is older than Selznick was in 1939, Fitts doesn’t really have Fleming’s swagger, and Wilkes doesn’t display the toughness of a newspaperman. But there’s no doubt they’re wholeheartedly in the moment and the madness of the play’s action.

Moonlight and Magnolias continues through July 1; for tickets call 366-5454 or go to platoarts.org.

On opening night of Venice Theatre’s season-closing production of Driving Miss Daisy, the biggest laugh of the evening (an unintended one) came early on, when Daisy Werthan’s son, Boolie, tries to talk her out of driving after an accident. After all, he tells her, “You’re 72 years old.”

Since many of the audience members, who had presumably driven themselves to the theater, are that age and then some, it served as a reminder that things have certainly changed since 1948, when that opening scene is set, and even from 1987, when Alfred Uhry’s prize-winning play debuted. But as we age, we can all still relate to the fear Daisy (Suzanne Coccia) has of losing her treasured independence.
 

 

So we empathize even as we see her initial unpleasantness to the chauffeur Boolie (Mike Gilbert) hires for her, a black man a few years younger than Daisy herself, Hoke (Autry Davis). At first Daisy won’t even let him drive her on errands around Atlanta, and when she does she insists on giving instructions and, in general, treating him like a child.

But as any who have seen the show or the film version before know, over a period of more than 20 years, Daisy gradually comes to realize that Hoke is not merely her servant, but her friend. And we glimpse, in this intimate story, a wider view of the societal changes that swept through the 1950s and 1960s in America.

Under the direction of VT artistic director Murray Chase, Gilbert, Coccia and Davis all give nicely nuanced performances, gathering the expected laughs from certain guaranteed lines and situations (often when Hoke, portrayed with professional skill by Davis, is managing to best Daisy or Boolie) but also achieving some poignancy, especially as both Daisy and Hoke face the diminishments of old age while trying to maintain their dignity. The play occasionally moves a little too slowly, even for a piece that depends so much on establishing the right reflective mood; and the placement of an intermission feels awkward. (The play is sometimes performed without one.)

But for a show that I’ve seen numerous times, and one that is certainly predictable, although polished, to begin with, this Driving Miss Daisy was surprisingly effective. It continues through May 20; call 488-1115 or go to venicestage.com for tickets.

When people say, “They don’t write them like that anymore,” the musical Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, now onstage at the Manatee Players Riverfront Theatre,  might be just what they’re talking about.

This tale of a frontiersman who goes into town to find himself a bride, encouraging his six brothers to do the same, is certainly old-fashioned, not only in its simple storytelling but its approach to male-female relationships. We’re supposed to be amused, not outraged, that oldest brother Adam (William E. Masuck) picks orphaned waitress Milly (Wendy James) as a bride in lickety-split fashion, not so much because he’s fallen for her as that he and his brethren need a maid of all work. And of course don’t even get a feminist started on the way the boys slink into town to kidnap brides of their own.

But it’s all too silly to inspire any real wrath, especially when we know it’s all going to end up all right, with everyone getting what they want--thanks mostly to Milly’s cleverness and strength.

The 1954 movie, a classic in Cinemascope, was famed largely for its inventive Michael Kidd choreography, which turned such mundane chores as a barn raising into lively dance numbers and took full advantage of the wide screen and richly saturated colors. The 1979 stage version of the show by Lawrence Kasha and David Landay (utilizing the original’s Johnny Mercer-Gene De Paul tunes, and adding a few new songs as well) can’t reach for the scale of the film, but under the direction of Rick Kerby it manages to radiate a charm of its own.

Kerby’s familiarity with and fondness for Seven Brides (he both played in the show and cut his director/choreographer teeth on it, years ago) is evident throughout the production in every way, but especially in the athleticism of numbers like the dance at the town social or Sobbin’ Women. He’s rounded up a cast of some pretty strong young men (Jason Moore, Alex Beach, Joseph Rebella, Keston Law, Killam Tyler Johnson and Jason Ellis) for the brothers, and they pull off the most challenging feats of footwork with relative ease, after what was undoubtedly many hard hours of rehearsing.

Kerby was also lucky to snag Wendy James for Milly; not only she is strong vocally on numbers like I Married Seven Brothers and Goin’ Courting, but she adds a measure of zest and spunk to everything she does. It’s not easy for Masuck to match her, and he can’t quite achieve Adam’s swagger, but he manages to keep his character somewhat sympathetic despite his wrongheaded choices at almost every turn.

The production is aided by some eye-pleasing country costumes from Jean Boothby and by the bright, childlike surround of trees by Marc Lalosh, who also contributes projections that sweep us along with the mountain scenery and changes of seasons. Musical director Aaron Cassette and his musicians deserve credit, too, for powering the show’s energetic numbers and smoothly switching gears for the occasional ballad.

All in all, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers is a tuneful piece of Americana that wraps up the Manatee Players season with spirit and fun. The show continues through May 20; for tickets call 748-5875 or go to manateeplayers.com.