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A CurtainUp New Jersey Review
Oscar and the Pink Lady
The luminous and enchanting Rosemary Harris plays Oscar and the Pink Lady, as well as others in Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt's somewhat gushy but sincerely-intended play that has been translated by Stephane Laporte from the original French language. To say that the dual role-playing is simply a tour-de-force for the celebrated actress is to diminish the play's earnest if heavy-handed mission: to question and celebrate the value and delicacy of life from a perspective of youth and old age.
Set designer Michael Vaughn Sims has evoked a conspicuously sprawling section of a pediatric ward its beds, crib, chairs and a table upon which is a decorated Christmas tree extends itself beyond realism on the George Street's wide stage. On the other hand, Harris's spirited performance easily persuades us where the focus should be. Notwithstanding the pink shirt, there are the clownish checkered pants that don't quite make it to her ankles and the cap placed sportingly on her head that assuredly are intended to bring a smile to the ill and often despairing children who need it. The lauded British director Frank Dunlop has not left Harris to flounder about as she uses the space with considerable élan as winningly as she jumps back and forth in conversation between Granny Pink and Oscar, Oscar and various children in the ward and mainly Oscar and God.
To the play's credit, the effect of Harris assuming all the roles actually works better than the words themselves, particularly those of Oscar, whose vocabulary and insights often sound too sophisticated and precious for his age. Granny Pink, on the other hand, is eager to entertain Oscar with her former career and exploits as a lady wrestler "the incredible midget" (stories she makes up).
Oscar is not easily persuaded that there is a God, especially since finding out that there is no Santa Claus and that his parents are not able to cope with his illness. Encouraged by Granny Pink to appreciate the gift of life no matter how brief it may be, Oscar makes the decision to pretend that he is 10 years older with every day. When Granny asks Oscar, "How old are you?" he answers, "What time is it?" This allows Oscar to imagine himself not only maturing, but to amusingly assume the activities of a teenager getting his first kiss from a flirtatious Chinese girl; exhausting himself as a dating 20 year-old; getting married at 30 to his sweetheart Peggy Blue (so named for having a condition that has made her skin blue); going through mid-life crises, and so-forth to old age.
Oscar's last 12 days are occupied by his humorous interaction with his pals in the ward namely— Bacon, so-named because of his extensive burns, Popcorn, because of his obesity, and Einstein because of his large head. Unsurprisingly these occasionally testy encounters, more so than the somewhat conflict free relationship between Oscar and Granny, give the play its pep.
One could complain that the play drifts predictably and a bit repetitively toward its inevitable conclusion. Some judicious pruning, from two hours to 90 minutes or even less would have done wonders. However, the pleasure of watching a gifted pro (Harris has reached her 80th birthday) undertake this challenging vehicle offers its own reward.
The play had its American premiere at San Diego's Old Globe Theater last Fall.
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