Joanne (Hayley Podschun, left), Mary (Jade Jones, center) and Kathy (Amy Keum) in The York Theatre Company’s production of Vanities – The Musical.
Vanities—The Musical, featuring a book by Jack Heifner and music and lyrics by David Kirshenbaum, is a reworking of their 2006 effort, Vanities, A New Musical, which itself was based on Heifner’s 1976 straight play, Vanities. With Will Pomerantz along as director, the result is a decidedly male, and unfortunately stale, exploration of the lives of three imperfect women and the thinly drawn men in their orbit. The use of a talented, racially diverse cast calls attention to the work’s less-than-inclusive perspective rather than broadening it.
It is 1963, and Mary (Jade Jones), Kathy (Amy Keum) and Joanne (Hayley Podschun) are in their senior year of high school somewhere in small-town America. They are popular cheerleaders and best friends who are spoiled, yet worried about their future. Joanne already knows what she wants from life, as she imparts early on in the score’s typically sing-song fashion, “Be a mother and a wife for the rest of my life, with a few short breaks for church.”
Differences emerge between Kathy (Keum, left) and Joanne (Podschun).
Mary is at the opposite end of the spectrum. Quickly running out of ways to put off her randy boyfriend, she concludes, “I want a man to ravish me.” And Kathy is focused on organizing pep rallies and school dances, confident that leading an organized life is the eventual key to happiness. Boys, cheering and the prospect of college occupy their limited worldview to the point that when news breaks of President John F. Kennedy’s assassination, their only concern is its effect on the evening’s football game. An ill-advised joke, involving ditzy Joanne thinking it was their student council president who was shot, begs to be cut.
The action then jumps to 1968 with the three pals, who are now sorority sisters, in their final semester, and cracks emerging in their friendship. Joanne is engaged to her high school sweetheart, Ted, and so indifferent to her own career that she became a music major because the registration tables “for science and English and everything else were always so crowded.” Kathy’s love life is less successful, having been jilted by her longtime beau, but she holds tight to her planning skills to muddle through. Mary’s sexual awakening is on the fast track as she feels herself yearning for escape. Backed by a vibrant electric guitar that evokes the era, her declarative solo, “Fly into the Future” is a highlight, as she embraces “no commitments, no conditions, no connections that can last.” As for their interest outside of their immediate lives, Joanne decrees, while trying to arrive at a theme for a sorority skit: “Oh, let’s not do anything about the war. Let Lyndon Johnson do something about the war.”
Kathy (Keum, left) and Mary (Jones) catch up on their lives. Photographs by Carol Rosegg.
Another jump in time, to 1974, finds Kathy surviving comfortably as a guest in a New York penthouse; Joanne living in nearby Connecticut with her husband, Ted, a houseful of kids, and a thirst for copious amounts of champagne; and Mary now the owner of a successful erotic art gallery and a world traveler. They come to Kathy’s for a reunion, but the extreme friction between Mary’s lifestyle and Joanne’s leads to sparks. Kathy, meanwhile, has had an epiphany that falls on deaf ears: “I really didn’t learn a damn thing in all our early years other than how to be very, very popular. … I was a noble, noble girl without a single cause.”
One last pivot, to 1990, brings the women back to their hometown for a funeral. Past grievances are forgiven, tears are shed, and we learn that their lives have all worked out quite well, in unpredicted ways. Letting go of the past frees them to create a stronger bond moving forward. It’s a soap opera ending in a work awash in other soap opera tropes including abortion, infidelity and alcoholism, with the leaps in time too often doing the work of creating and resolving tensions. Still, the actors find ways to make their characters more likable than they have a right to be. Jones’s brash humor, Keum’s calm positivity and Podschun’s comic verve rise above the material.
And speaking of material, to say that Barbara Erin Delo’s costumes are colorful is also to say that scenic designer James Morgan’s stark black-and-white set is enlivened by them. Rather than the actors dressing for each era, they remain swathed in black while dress forms are wheeled in, sporting cheerleader outfits, sorority sweaters and ’70s fashion wear. It’s a clever ploy by Pomerantz that speeds the action along, while commenting on the superficial nature of vanity itself.
The York Theatre Company’s presentation of Vanities—The Musical runs at The Theatre at St. Jean’s (150 E. 76th St.) through April 22. Evening performances are at 7:30 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday; matinees are at 2:30 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. For tickets and more information, visit yorktheatre.org.
