"SCARLET CONFESSIONS," J. O’Reilly Productions at Victory Gardens Theater (Upstairs Mainstage)
BY LUCIA MAURO
An eclectic musical revue with such tantalizing spoken excerpts as "I Have a Gentle Cock" and coy commentary by Marilyn Monroe – together with songs chronicling sexy, soulful and boundlessly tragic matters of the heart – seems like a libido-liberating show with tinges of romantic desperation. But "Scarlet Confessions" (subtitled "The Infamous and the Innocent: A Musical Diary" and independently produced by J. O’Reilly Productions at Victory Gardens Theater) wriggles uncomfortably across an expanse of body-ripping regret.
Written and conceived by the gifted team of Jamie O’Reilly and Michael Smith (whose previous collaborations include the acclaimed "Pasiones: Songs of the Spanish Civil War" and "Hello, Dali"), this staged concert performance boasts a celestial quartet of vocal artists. Vocalist O’Reilly (the ingenue); singer-guitarist Smith (the worldly-wise poet); Anne Hill (a salt-of-the-earth folk singer and multi-instrumentalist); and director-vocalist-guitarist Paul Amandes (a bold and rugged presence) genuinely set the room on fire when they join forces in four-part harmonies. They are also ably accompanied by Al Ehrich on bass.
Yet their inconsistent solo work and the show’s overall stiff structure do little to stoke the flames of dramatic passion. "Scarlet Confessions" is divided into two uneven acts (the first half moves along briskly and is reminiscent of a medieval cantina; the second part, given a more elegant ambience, drones on with no compellingly apparent through-line).
Judicious editing could have helped to fervently engage viewers. For instance, a brief segment on the teenagers who disposed of their newborn in a dumpster may show the extremes to which uncontrolled passion drives individuals. But it is not profoundly explored here. Also awkwardly integrated are Smith’s witty song, "Catholic School Heaven" and his eerie "Crazy Mary"—unless loosely viewed as glimpses into spiritual dilemma and the madness of love.
Ironically, despite the fact that the featured works plunge into crimes of passion and other notorious aspects of lust, the show’s tone does not send chills up one’s spine or quicken the blood.
The revue’s arrangement, however, reminded me of the progression of a Spanish dance concert: a folkloric and classical beginning that explodes into the bravura improvisations of flamenco. However, the performers’ considerable distance from the audience creates a flat emotional void. Anchored far upstage, with occasional solo romps that edge a bit closer to viewers, the artists do not engulf or engage us. "Scarlet Confessions," considering its intimate subject matter, demands a more embracing environmental setting – like a cabaret configuration.
And, unlike the hauntingly multisensory experience of "Hello, Dali," this show makes no attempt to push any creative envelopes. The format is not unlike a recital, with one song following in close succession, paired with statically posed deliveries. When the singers move to a table or slink about in faux-sultry fashion, the forced nature of their poses verges on the satiric. Other challenges include scratchy sound problems and dithering, unwieldy transitions.
The sharp and sublime highlights of the evening ranged from the opening old Irish ditty, "Fa La La Loodle," and "Joan of Arc" to the brilliant ensemble rendition of "It’s a Sin to Tell a Lie," "Ten Commandments of Love" and "Non je regrette bien." Smith, a virtuoso guitarist and witty writer-performer, is one of this show’s greatest strengths, as well as the clarion-voiced Hills. Amandes excels at classical spoken text, and O’Reilly lends a steamy tone of longing to her singing (despite a limited vocal range).
Their versatile, uncomplicated costumes cut across suggestions of gypsies, courtesans, troubadors, cowboys and sophisticates. Nevertheless, smoother and more pronounced dashes of creativity are needed to carry "Scarlet Confessions" over a fiery threshold of impassioned abandon.
In a paradoxical twist, Jennifer Friedrich’s quaint and macabre Victorian puppet interlude, titled "The Tale of Raven and Viola," most poignantly illustrates the show’s exploration of the pleasures and perils of love. An illustrated screen, which gets manually unrolled to advance the action, unveils the queasy tale of two young violinist sisters and the fiddler who asks one to be his bride. The other sibling explodes into a jealous rage and drowns her sister – whose body parts (including her torso, finger bones and strands of yellow hair) her grieving suitor uses to fashion a melancholic violin. The horror beneath the serenity of its Victoriana setting make this segment unexpectedly chilling and strangely seductive.•
J. O’Reilly Productions’ staging of "Scarlet Confessions" has been extended through July 28 at Victory Gardens Theater (Upstairs Mainstage), 2257 N. Lincoln. Tickets: $25. A post-show panel discussion on the shifting nature of confession, moderated by WGN radio host and Chicago Tribune columnist Rick Kogin, will be held July 18. Call 773-871-3000.
