Lauren Blackman, Jesmille Darbouze, Erin O’Neil,
and Robert Cuccioli in Nine
(© John Vecchiolla)
The Felliniesque film director Guido Contini — captured in the suave personage of Tony Award nominee Robert Cuccioli — is alive and well and experiencing a midlife crisis in the Westchester Broadway Theater’s decidedly worthwhile production of Maury Yeston’s
Nine.
The production, directed and choreographed by Jonathan Stahl and featuring an all-white, chessboard-like set and fabulous black-or-white costuming by Michael Bottari and Ronald Case, seems to hark back to an era when money was less of an object — and large casts could easily be contemplated.
The head count in Nine is fairly high because Guido is obsessed, to lesser or greater degrees, with some 17 women. Foremost among them are his wife Luisa (the tastefully modulated yet resplendent Glory Crampton), mistress Carla (Julie Tolivar, whose eye-popping physique happens to harbor an exquisite vocal instrument), and muse Claudia (Lauren Blackman, who plays the role a bit too dully).
Of the other women in the cast, Emily Zacharias is nicely sardonic as Guido’s late mother, kibitzing from beyond the grave, and Jesmille Darbouze makes a lovely Our Lady of the Spa, who does double duty as empathetic narrator.
Less effective, however, are Dana Moore as Guido’s musical-minded producer, Liliane La Fleur, and Cari Chrisostomou as his primal boyhood muse, the witchy Sarraghina. Both are saddled with dispiriting dance numbers; Fleur’s “Folies Bergère” number drags, while in “Ti Voglio Bene / Be Italian,” Chrisostomou goes for scarily semi-abusive, rather than uninhibitedly hedonistic, all the while performing a kind of sexless Macarena.
Meanwhile, Zach Rand is wonderfully unaffected as the Young Guido. He never seems to be striving for effect. He simply sings, with his pure boy soprano, and takes in the pitiful state of his tormented adult self with infinite understanding.
Cuccioli, it must be said, goes light on the torment; he seems to be saving up for his big eleven o’clock breakdown, “I Can’t Make This Movie.” Still, it’s worth waiting for Cuccioli to let loose, especially since there are two splendid, full-bodied performances to tide you over.
