Houston Voice

On Stage: 'Kiss of the Spider Woman' by D.L. Groover Friday, 29 June 2001 Never underestimate the power of theater. Case in point, Masquerade Theatre's stirring rendition of Kander and Ebb's KISS OF THE SPIDER WOMAN. This much-heralded adaptation of Manuel Puig's 1976 novel about the force of fantasy to overcome overwhelming realism is brought home neatly in this small theater's venue. Due to the male leads, some nifty dance sequences, and Phillip Duggins' bare bones direction, we quickly forget the spit and cardboard sets and lack of Broadway spectacle and polish with which the original seduced us. Even the low amperage of the Spider Woman herself, Deanna Julian, can not dim the magic. As you may know, this is the tale of two prisoners forced to share a cell during Argentina's fascistic regime where torture, brutal conditions and psychological repression where all part of the daily routine. Molina, a 37-year-old window dresser, has been picked up on morals charges. He is a flamer nonpareil, who weaves stories from favorite movies to keep himself sane even in the outside world. As punishment he's put in with mucho macho Valentin, a political prisoner and socialist ideologue. As a bribe, the warden promises Molina his freedom if he can discover Valentin's outside compatriots. In the musical, brutal existence inside the walls is ameliorated by Molina's fantasies that break them down. Gradually, through mutual hardship and growing respect, the two men form a loving bond, giving to each other the better part of their natures. When Molina is released, he does a political favor for Valentin which gets him killed. We are supposed to view this non-selfish act as Molina becoming a man, but in Terrance McNally's somewhat timid book, it comes off as another example of "the only good queer is a dead queer." When Valentin makes love to Molina, we aren't sure if he's seducing Molina for his own political ends, or if he truly accepts and loves him. The threadbare psychology doesn't harm this rousing musical, though, whose tunes are infused with a Latin-inspired beat and whose book is replete with Molina's outrageous bitchy wit. If the spectacle and spangles of the fantasy numbers are low-rent in this version, it works in Masquerade's favor. Too much Technicolor flash would overwhelm the postage stamp-sized stage. The grimy chorus boys work like troopers and put over Frank York's inventive choreography with hearty enthusiasm and the pizzazz of a Zeigfeld show. The male leads are downright impressive. Illich Guardiola is a gruff, machismo-layered dissident, who at first is loathe to shed any of his protective armor. As the musical progresses, he softens considerably and finally offers himself to his cellmate, giving Molina the impetus to turn his life around. His love seems genuine, not suspect as in the musical's book. Luther Chakurian does a true star turn as Molina. He plays down the campier aspects of the character so we see the survivor underneath the silk kimono. He's an impressive singer, belting out his signature piece "Dressing Them Up," or smoothly plaintive in "Mama, It's Me." He brings this show to life with a pro's command of the stage. Anyone stepping into the high heels of the Spider Woman has to contend with the mythic Chita Rivera, who managed at the advanced age of 60 to beguile and insinuate herself into legend. The Spider Woman is the ultimate femme fatale, a combo platter of Louise Brooks, Dietrich, Rita Hayworth, Garbo, and any other movie temptress you care to name. Deanna Julian, looking smashingly radiant in her jet-spangled gowns, doesn't quite manage to walk comfortably in such stellar pumps. She should bowl us over with Aurora's audacity, her sexual smolder, her mystery. Miss Julian is restrained and tentative, only coming into her own by the second act's "Russian Movie." There's a Spider Woman in her. She just has to learn how to scramble nimbly around the web without getting caught herself. Stephanie Bradow, as Molina's mother, Kaytha Coker, as Valentin's lover Marta, and Russell Freeman, as the sadistic warden, bring these secondary characters to life. The women are especially moving in the haunting "Dear One." When their voices are joined by Molina's and Valentin's, the quartet transforms into a great chorus. This Tony award winner, powerful, tuneful, cleverly staged on its B-movie budget, manages to pack a wallop and leave you thinking. This musical has ideas in its head, and Masquerade Theatre conveys them very well, indeed.