If you're a fan of "Gone With the Wind," you will find a certain amount of enjoyment in Ron Hutchinson's comedy, "Moonlight and Magnolias." It's pleasant, sometimes silly, and quite unremarkable.
Hutchinson mixes farce with a behind-the-scenes peek at the Golden Age of Hollywood. Set in 1939 and supposedly inspired by true events, this lightweight romp centers on the (re)writing of the blockbuster film epic "Gone with the Wind." Think of it as the Old South meets the Marx Brothers.
Like "GWTW," "Moonlight and Magnolias" involves a love triangle. But not your stereotypical one. This play features three men in love with the magic of the movies.
And you thought Scarlett O'Hara had trouble! Hollywood producer David O. Selznick faces a potential disaster with what Hollywood insiders are calling "Selznick's Folly." As Hutchinson and Hollywood history tell it, three weeks into the filming of Margaret Mitchell's celebrated tome, Selznick shut down production, threw out the script and fired director George Cukor. Then he summoned script doctor Ben Hecht and pulled director Victor Fleming off the set of "The Wizard of Oz."
Faster than Miss Scarlett could say "Fiddle-dee-dee," Selznick locked himself and the two men in his elegant Art Deco office for five days to crank out a new script, with only bananas and peanuts for "brain food."
To add to the chaos, Hecht never bothered to read Mitchell's 1,037-page novel. So Selznick and Fleming must act out every scene and character, while Hecht mans the Remington and wrestles with his social conscience.
Directed by Timothy Near, the first act of "Moonlight and Magnolias" plods along until a marvelous interlude picks up the pace. This silent film-like segment of flying peanuts, papers and banana peels plays out like a Johnny Depp hotel escapade. The three icons trash the room, working themselves into a zombie state of exhaustion.
Fleming and Hecht go round and round, trading insults and fisticuffs over their failures and foibles. A sarcastic Hecht describes Fleming as "the man who slugged Judy Garland," and Selznick as "the man who let W.C. Fields throw a juggling routine in 'David Copperfield.'"
Hecht wants to change the setting from the Civil War because "no Civil War movie ever made a dime." Selznick wants more cleavage for Scarlett. And Fleming laments the frustrations of directing drunken munchkins and actors who won't work because they don't like the color of their shower curtains.
These three egotists tussle over almost every detail and line, especially Rhett's infamous farewell, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn," and Scarlett's fervent curtain line, "Tomorrow is another day."
Much of the production's hilarity comes from John Procaccino's turn as the narcissistic Fleming. The popular Seattle actor frolics shamelessly, prancing around the stage as he plays all the characters but Scarlett. He wraps a bandana around his head and dawdles like Prissy, feigns Melanie's labor by lying on the sofa and kicking his legs into the air and imagines Rhett's dialogue, "Hey, Scarlett, how's it going?"
Unfortunately, Tom Beckett gives a less-than-convincing performance as Selznick and Selznick-pretending-to-be-Scarlett. Beckett lacks the stature, charm and street-smart chutzpah of the legendary movie mogul.
When he started production on "GWTW," Selznick was 36 years old, while Fleming was almost 50 and Hecht, 44. But as played by Beckett, Selznick acts like a 20something kid, occasionally adorable - certainly not how you envision the charismatic and controlling Tinseltown titan. Most of the time, Beckett buzzes around like a fly you'd like to swat. Or a rat terrier that won't let go of your pant leg.
As the journalist-turned-screenwriter Hecht, Peter Van Norden looks as if he'd stepped out of the 1931 film, "The Front Page" (the first screen version of Hecht and Charles MacArthur's classic play). He's known for his ability to turn pap into cinematic drama, but he's so uninterested in Selznick's rewrite that he mispronounces Ashley's name, calls Scarlett a whore and refers to Rhett as "what'shisname." With wonderful timing and sarcastic delivery, Van Norden adds just the right touch of cynicism, the kind rooted in frustrated idealism.
Miss Poppenghul, Selznick's harried secretary, doles out the rations and fends off phone calls, even from MGM honcho Louis B. Mayer, Selznick's boss and father-in-law. In her brief role as the infinitely patient assistant, Marya Sea Kaminski must give a hundred different readings and intonations of the phrase, "Yes, Mr. Selznick."
"Moonlight and Magnolias" wants to be both comedy and social conscience, but the mix falls short. Playwright Hutchinson makes a gallant attempt to deal with objections to the racial issues of the film, most particularly the scene where Scarlett slaps Prissy, treating her like a dim-witted slave girl. Which prompts the question about how the film portrays blacks in general. Not very well, chides Hecht, comparing their struggle to the plight of Jews then living under Hitler's regime, as well as his and Selznick's struggles as Jews in Hollywood. At one point, Hecht suggests they give Prissy a comeuppance speech by telling Scarlett off. But Selznick vetoes the idea, countering with some flowery rhetoric about the movie. He's still stuck on romanticizing the Confederacy and glossing over slavery.
There's a lot at stake with this epic: Fleming's career, Hecht's conscience and Selznick's legacy. But throughout the play, Hutchinson inserts the running joke that both Hecht and Flem-ing are convinced the movie is destined to be a flop. That's why Fleming chose a fee for directing rather than a percentage of the film and Hecht declined screen-writing credit. On the other hand, Fleming doesn't want to go back to being a chauffeur, Selznick wants to prove himself to his father-in-law and Hecht likes the money.
The real power belongs to all those Jane Does and Joe Blows who pay to go to movies, rues Selznick. But the real magic happens when "a million eyes are fixed on the screen," he rhapsodizes, "and a million hearts are beating in tune...."
"Moonlight and Magnolias" offers a valentine to the heyday of Hollywood. Film buffs will relish insider tidbits and laugh at this insane take on the creative process. But no matter what happened during those five days in Selznick's office or what happens onstage at the Intiman, the audience will always have another day with Rhett and Scarlett. All we have to do is pop in the DVD.
'Moonlight and Magnolias'
Tuesday to Sunday through Oct. 7
at Intiman Theatre;
tickets $10-$46, 269-1900. [[In-content Ad]]
