Seven Brides for Seven Brothers
Beverly S. Sheffield Zilker Hillside Theater, through Aug. 5
Running Time: 1 hr, 50 min
The Austin arts scene has a lot of things that make it special, but none more so than this annual rite: the Zilker Theatre Productions Summer Musical. For 47 years, a production of a well-known musical has been offered, free of charge, on the hillside by Barton Springs, which makes the event older than practically everyone I know. People make an evening of it by assembling blankets and chairs well in advance of showtime, having picnics and enjoying Barton Springs until the festivities begin. Not being a fanatic when it comes to this particular theatrical form, I managed to avoid seeing a Zilker summer musical for the first 10 years I lived in Austin, but in the last 10 I’ve seen almost all of them, and I’m pleased to report that Seven Brides for Seven Brothers is the best I’ve seen yet.
Now, it isn’t necessarily because of the script. Based on the film of the same name, most notably with lyrics by Johnny Mercer, this story – about Adam, a farmer who lives in the mountains, going into town and practically forcing a woman named Millie to marry him so she can come and cook and clean for him and his six rowdy, slovenly brothers – reeks of sexism and misogyny. But if you can get past that, you’ll find that the actors, especially the ones playing the brothers, are a joy to watch, and Leslie Hollingsworth’s Millie practically carries the show on her able back every time she opens her mouth (especially when she opens it to sing). It also isn’t necessarily because of the songs, none of which are particularly memorable, but all of which move the story forward and are quite pleasant to listen to, especially given the expert accompaniment provided by Michael McKelvey’s well-coached orchestra. It also isn’t necessarily because of the production design. Susan Branch’s costumes are gorgeously rendered, earth tones dominating in the fall and winter and pastels proliferating in the spring, with shawls and gingham and petticoats swirling and twirling in all directions. While Curtis Ashby’s set of slatted wooden units moves easily about the stage and provides a lot of different looks and Scott Tatum’s lights change beautifully and appropriately with the moods and the seasons, I have to say that the half-dozen long pieces of white fabric stretched at the back of the stage on occasion provide something visually splendid but generally distract from the otherwise sumptuous rendering. Major kudos to sound designer Jason Frankhouser, who allowed me to hear practically every word of the show all the way at the top of the hill on opening night.
No, it wasn’t necessarily any of these things. It was all of these things put together. Directors Ginger Morris and Robin Lewis have taken the plethora of musical talent in the Austin arts community and created something truly special. And I haven’t even mentioned Lewis’ foot-stompin’, hand-clappin’ choreography, which consistently blows across the hillside like a rollicking summer storm, lifting up everyone in its path and settin’ ’em back down again satisfied. When it was over, I walked away thinking I wouldn’t mind seeing it again.
‘Nuff said.
This article appears in July 14 • 2006.