Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. But why imitate Same Time, Next Year?
Shadow Theatre's production of John Shevin Foster's Plenty of Time is as comfortable as the new seats in the company's venue: soft, sentimental, unchallenging. Foster has made clear in interviews his indebtedness to Bernard Slade's 1975 hit as a template for this work. Had he done something else, he might have had a decent play.
The timeframe of Plenty of Time stretches from 1969 to 2002, detailing the yearly get-togethers of Christina (Simone St. John) and Corey (Quatis Tarkington) in a vacation cottage on Martha's Vineyard. At first she's a rowdy debutante; he's a busboy faking it as a Black Panther to pick up chicks. As the decades roll by, there's the usual march of topics: militarism, feminism, middle age, the burdens of affluence, AIDS, etc. By play's end, the couple has matured, having been burnished in the glow of their improbable 35-year love affair.
However, not once does Foster take us out of the comfort zone or pose any great challenge to his characters. Indeed, his mystifying salute to Slade hardly extends to the needs or capacities of the audience. Why he wrote the play is one mystery; why an excellent company like Shadow Theatre is staging it is another.
Director Jeffrey Nickelson — the company's executive artistic director — has stated that Plenty of Time reflects a theme of the company, in its 10th season, looking back and looking forward; he also cites the desire to let us see the work of the actors. In his latter sentiment at least he's spot-on: St. John and Tarkington fully animate their relatively cardboard characters, providing them with unlikely depth and appeal. Their comic timing is also a treat, and they even lend dignity to the oh-so-predictable moments of onstage solemnity and grief. (One quibble: playing advanced age onstage doesn't only mean slowing down and lowering your vocal range.)
As for the conceptual framework of the production, the less said, the better. Flashing a slide show of significant African-American historical and cultural moments while a mix-tape plays to denote the passage of time is as unnecessary as the between-scenes appearance of a young lady doing jetés while redressing the set. It's a device as awkward as Foster's conceit.
Plenty of Time runs Sept. 7-Oct. 7 at the Ralph Waldo Emerson Center, 1420 Ogden St., Denver. Tickets: (303) 837-9355. Website: www.shadowtheatre.com.