Boxy Rabbit Holes in a Noir Funhouse — THE 39 STEPS at MVT

The house was nearly full last night for Manoa Valley Theatre’s preview of The 39 Steps. The show opens tonight for what I predict will be a very successful run. The play, adapted by Patrick Barlow from the 1915 novel by John Buchan and the 1935 film by Alfred Hitchcock, comically renders a spy-mystery-adventure drama, set in 1935, with the hero, Richard Hannay (Elitei Tatafu Jr.), travelling through various locations in England and Scotland determined to crack the case and clear his name. The scenes are hilarious, the action zooms right along, the theatricality consists of layers and levels, doors and windows, screens and frames, smoke, guns and fire, and an ever-revolving parade of comic characters portrayed by only two actors. And of course, a beautiful woman, times three, sort of.

Tatafu and Stoltzfus as Annabella Schmidt

This is Hannay’s story. The show opens with the handsome hero, of the wavy hair and the brown eyes and the pencil mustache, addressing the audience in the first framing of the tale that changed his life. Tatafu as Hannay is on stage pretty much the entire time. The part demands confidence, charisma, charm, and then some, and Tatafu delivers all of the above, and then some. He tempers his Bond-like male magnetism with touches of sweet naivety, impossible to resist, both for the women he encounters on stage and the rest of us watching from our seats.

Hannay’s women in the show are three: the mysterious dark-haired German, the innocent red-headed Scot, and the mousey, repressed blond Brit. They are all played, however, by the one female actor in the show, Samantha Stoltzfus. The German, Annabella Schmidt, sets her sights on Hannay, for some reason. The relationship between the two characters is seductively funny. Stoltzfus displays excellent timing and physicality in these early scenes, as well as a commanding German accent. Next we get a glimpse of Pamela the Brit whom Hannay meets on a train, only to return to the action later in the game. Margaret the sweet Scot has just one scene, but it’s a good one, with forbidden romance accentuated by superb use of music, lighting, and props. Stoltzfus imbues each lady with her own set of characteristics, aided by costume, hair and makeup, so that one actress equals three very distinct dames. You’ll have a favorite for sure. Mine, if you haven’t guessed, was Annabella Schmidt.

The rest of the hundred or so characters are played by Britton Adams and Duncan Dalzell, Clown #1 and Clown #2, respectively. The second framework of the play is the setting of a theatre—not Manoa Valley—a theatre within the story, where Hannay goes for some mindless entertainment. The “clowns” take the stage as Mr. Memory (Adams) and his entertaining presenter (Dalzell), with Hannay watching from above. The layers and levels created through multiple frameworks produce a theatre of dimension with ticklish mental stimulation, a little like climbing through the comic rabbit hole. Adams and Dalzell, who often appear as a pair, sometimes with multiple parts to play in each scene, sometimes going from one character to another and back in a matter of minutes, sometimes seconds, have the task of feathering our fancies as often and raucously as possible.

Adams tackles many meaty roles (including his female parts) like a pro, with a great range of expression and the kind of comedic timing that’s probably impossible to teach. He is funny. Besides good chemistry with Dalzell, he also pairs up nicely with Stoltzfus in the Scottish farm scene as Margaret’s older, abusive husband who becomes jealous of his wife’s sympathy and affection for their surprise houseguest. In act two, Adams becomes the wife, as Hannay and Pamela find their way to an inn on a dark and stormy night (remind you of any other Hitchcock movies?). His innkeeperess, Mr. Mystery, Jealous Husband, and so many other parts, showcase an actor with a talent for finding the often subtle essentials of a character in a way that really translates. You watch Adams and you “get it” every time. His final scene was so good I wanted to see it again.

Dalzell has a knack for giving each of his characters unique vocal and physical attributes. His old man is hunched and slow. His innkeeper shuffles and blushes. His entertainer gestures and announces. He also gets to play the evil mastermind behind “the 39 Steps” (whatever that means—as in you’ll have to go and find out for yourself). The bad guy role usually has the potential for being the most fun. Dalzell went for it in a big way, and I could generally see where he was going, though I wasn’t always right there with him. In a small cast with a wealth of talent, Dalzell may be the one trying too hard to be funny. In the villain part especially, I wanted him to let more of the comedy come from inhabiting his character in all the specificity of a moment, rather than “playing it big.” He’s got every ingredient in the pan, and now he just needs to let it really cook. The fact that I have anything critical to say about an overall commendable performance testifies to the supreme quality of the show as a whole.

Dalzell is also listed as the set designer, and in this role he truly outdoes himself. As I’ve mentioned, layers and levels, frames and windows, screens and shadows… Director Rob Duval and his design team take the structure of the play and externalize. The mysterious plot unfurls like a series of boxy rabbit holes, all eventually leading back to the point of departure, but with everything somehow altered. The box seats in the “theatre,” the rectangular pictures made by different levels between upstage and downstage, and the many moving windows and doors continually skew any sense of reality. There’s something brilliant going on, with the audience often in on the joke, almost asked to participate, but not. We’re being played with and we like it, just as Hannay is being played with, and finds that for once, life is interesting, exciting, meaningful—he likes it too. One of Tatafu’s best moments comes when he accidentally wanders into a political rally and is called upon to give a speech about the candidate, with whom he is utterly unfamiliar. The speech moves above and beyond the rally and the play and even the audience, like one more magical portal where ideals and all that is good and noble can exist independently and universally in everyone. I was on the edge of my seat at this playful yet profound culmination of deconstructed reality.

The 39 Steps is a great play—just check Wikipedia for all the awards different productions have received—and I’m glad we have a chance to see it done so well right here in Hawai`i. Duval doesn’t waste many opportunities to tease out all the gold in this mine. The cast is quite an ensemble, working together throughout much of the show to create the physical reactions to a fictive world that play so splendidly on our imaginations. The same is true of the design, as all elements occupy the right space and the right moment with a fluidity and style resembling noir-meets-funhouse. For most of the show, I watched in a state of delightful anticipation at what bit of comedy might happen next, punctuated by great bursts of laughter. The action slows a bit in act two, as the romance between Hannay and Pamela develops, but at a sheer two hours and fifteen minutes with intermission, there’s definitely not a dull moment as the story careens to its big finish.

For more information see the MVT Website.