Sweet Charity

Mid 20th century musicals seem to be filled with heroines with low self esteem. Just look back to "Carousel" where battered widow Julie Jordan tells her daughter "sometimes a hit doesn't hurt at all." Then there's Nancy from "Oliver" who gets the living hell beat out of her by beau Bill Sykes and responds by singing "As Long As He Needs Me."

But few leading ladies have abandoned self-worth more than Charity Hope Valentine, the titular character in the musical "Sweet Charity," which is currently being presented by the New Group at the Pershing Square Signature Center in a grittier more cynical incarnation of the classic musical.

In "Sweet Charity," our heroine (the peerless Sutton Foster) has men throw her in a lake (twice), steal her purse, grope her at her job (she's a taxi dancer) and even make love to a girlfriend while she hides in a closet. One song, "Charity's Soliloquy" in the first act is devoted to telling a tale about a man who took her for every dime she had. Still, she shrugs it all off, never learns her lesson and, like her middle name, Hope(s) that love is just around the corner.

And it is, in the form of Oscar (Shuler Hensley), a nebbishy tax accountant with acute anxiety, that Charity's hope may pay off. After surviving his claustrophobia in an elevator stuck between floors and her fear of heights on a stalled amusement park ride, the pair click -- albeit briefly.

With a snappy score by Cy Coleman (lyrics by Dorothy Fields) and a joke-heavy book by Neil Simon, "Sweet Charity" has always been played for comedy. Given 1960's sensibilities, the foibles of Charity (a sweet girl with a heart of gold and a head full of Redi Whip) have always had a "look at the mess she's gotten herself into now" quality. And in the hands of the slew of timing-gifted divas who have taken on the role in the past (Gwen Verdon, Chita Rivera, Debbie Allen, Ann Reinking and most recently Christina Applegate), the laughs have always driven the show with the pathos in the backseat. Until now.

Director Leigh Silverman has pared this '60s-era classic down to the cautionary tale at the core of the story. The darker elements of the Fan-Dango ballroom where Charity and her fellow "rent-a-body" cohorts work are on full display with a mixture of desperation and contempt. There is no mistaking these girls for happy hookers.

As Charity, Sutton Foster bursts at the seams with charm, enthusiasm and (given the timbre of Silverman's production) misplaced optimism and desperation. From the downbeat of the opening number (where she clings on to a series of men while endlessly heaping praise upon each uninterested suitor after another) to her final break up with Oscar, she is like a dog on her last days at an ASPCA shelter -- all love and no takers.

Even in her character's more enthusiastic moments, there is an underlying sadness to her outward optimism. Remarkably, she still manages to land all of the comedy in the role (most notably a sandwich making bit worthy of Judy Holliday that nearly brings down the house.) The ever-shifting balancing act that Foster manages between pathos and humor is astounding to say the least.

Backing Foster up is a talented company of eleven who mostly double and triple roles. Joel Perez, fresh off his run in "Fun Home," scores particularly high marks in a quartet of the show's more memorable male supporting parts. Nikka Graff Lanzaronne is a hoot in a variety of roles that include a spurned Italian movie star and a less than enthusiastic but overly officious desk clerk.

As oddball love interest Oscar, Shuler Hensley strikes the perfect tone as the unkempt neurotic who wouldn't be anyone's first choice. His rejection of Charity in the play's final scene is particularly heartbreaking.

On the down side, while Silverman's near Brechtian approach to the material makes for great theater, it is often more times than not, regrettably at odds with nature of the piece as a musical. Cy Coleman's score will always feel bouncy and bright no matter how angry the dancehall girls look. Neil Simon's book will always be jokey despite the characters' darker motivations.

Also, in cutting the piece down to 12 performers and a tiny onstage band, the explosive moments that propel the characters to sing rather than speak often feels watered down. Nowhere is this more evident than when Charity sings "I'm a Brass Band" accompanied by a keyboard, woodwind, two strings and percussionist, but nary a trumpet, trombone, tuba or even french horn in sight.

As a character study, the New Group's bare bones production of "Sweet Charity" is worth the visit for musical theater aficionados. But for the uninitiated, this production feels in desperate need of a "Big Spender" to flesh it out.