Steel Magnolias

In his script Robert Harling does much to enhance the image of the Southern belle with the vapors, celebrating the resiliency and strength lurking beneath his characters' syrupy smiles, lyrical drawls, and penchant for floral-print dresses. As this group of hothouse flowers gather in Truvy Jones' carport turned beauty salon in rural Louisiana to gossip about neighbors and discuss the trends pictured in recent issues of "Southern Hair" magazine, it becomes evident there's more to these women than recipe swapping and sharing their wickedly skewed communal sense of humor.

Over the years since this 1987 play became a successful movie, however, one would be hard-pressed not to know the fate of poor Shelby Eatenton. Leave it to the committed folks at the Rubicon and Jenny Sullivan helming her undeclared resident company of actor-muses to take this somewhat shopworn material and, instead of trying to reinvent it, present it as faithfully to the original as possible.

Stephanie Zimbalist is straightforward yet solid as a rock as Shelby's sweetly controlling mother, bringing her audience to tears in M'Lynn's final heartstring-tugging monologue about loss and our species' ability to go on. Zimbalist shares a palpable connection with Amy Handelman as Shelby, who in turn finds much in Zimbalist's delivery to incorporate in her own portrayal. Von Rae Wood gives an indelible performance as Clairee, the wealthy recent widow at first at a loss to find a reason to go on living without her spouse. Clarinda Ross and Angela Goethals are assets as, respectively, the brassy outspoken Truvy and her wispy new employee Annelle. Bonnie Franklin's Ouiser is the only disappointment here, never seeming to get in tune with the timing and rhythm necessary to deliver Harling's humor.

Although Ouiser argues it's the "worst-possible choice to pray for perfect strangers," when a company this slickly appointed takes a warhorse of a play and finds a director with the gentle but dependable skills of Sullivan and a cast as generally adept as this, one can be won over even if the storyline and some of the lines are as familiar as a persistent TV commercial.  

Presented by and at Rubicon Theatre Company, 1006 E. Main St., Ventura. Aug. 24-Sept. 18. Wed., 2 & 7 p.m.; Thu.-Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 2 & 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. (805) 667-2900. www.rubicontheatre.org.