Brett Williams
The cast portrays a variety of workers (from left)Owen Metzger, Scott Albert Bennett, Bonnie Balke, Erin McConnell, Kate Mann and Robert Helfinstine.
As one of the characters says early on in Madison Theatre Guild’s current production of Working, we are all defined by our jobs. People ask us what we do at dinner parties. Forms ask for our occupation. Often our self-worth is tied to our sense of accomplishment and fulfillment in our work life. But for every person who loves his job as a trucker or a firefighter, there are those who work assembly lines and customer service hotlines, who only live for the end of their shifts. Both of those feelings — and quite a few in between — make up the stories in the Stephen Schwartz musical, onstage at the Bartell through April 28. Originally based on the Studs Terkel book of interviews by the same name, Working has gone through some major revisions since it first opened — and flopped — on Broadway 40 years ago. But with a few new songs, and a lot of editing that reflects the changes in the workplace in the 21st century, Working works.
Working doesn’t have a plot, and its two dozen characters rarely interact. Instead, it’s a collection of monologues interspersed with songs. And even the songs are disparate — they are composed by a half-dozen writing teams, some very successful like Schwartz (Pippin, Godspell, Wicked) and Lin-Manuel Miranda (Hamilton, In the Heights); some you’ve probably never heard of. Oh, and then there’s James Taylor, the folk legend and guitarist, who contributed two songs in his own signature style.
Musically, the night is uneven, but it’s worth sitting through the songs that miss in order to hear the ones that land beautifully. Taylor’s “Brother Trucker” and “Millwork” stand out as odes to blue-collar laborers, and both of Miranda’s songs reflect his point of view as a New Yorker and the son of immigrants. “Delivery” is a fun, bouncy song about bike messengers, while “A Very Good Day” is a heartbreaking story of two immigrant caregivers who do the jobs no one else wants. The other highlight musically is “Just a Housewife,” by Craig Carnelia, which painfully depicts the loneliness and lack of acknowledgement that comes with the job of stay-at-home-mom. Schwartz’s touching song “Fathers and Sons,” however, seemed to belong in a different play.
The six actors play many roles throughout the evening, depicting many professions, and all pitch in on chorus numbers. As a result, the show is made up of individual vignettes that strive to touch a chord. And at the nearly flawless dress rehearsal, there were many such heartfelt moments. Bonnie Balke’s ruminations on being a steelworker; her song about a veteran teacher who’s hopelessly out of touch with the current state of education; and her star turn as a housekeeper who swears her daughter won’t spend her life scrubbing floors are simply transcendent. Balke is a Bartell regular who I’ve seen in many productions, but I’ve never seen her shine like this. Erin McConnell also gets plenty of time in the spotlight, as a millennial cubical worker, an unflappable airline stewardess, and the aforementioned mom, juggling groceries, laundry and a growing sense of disappointment. Her big, brassy voice sails out to the audience laden with real emotion. Likewise, Kate Mann really delivers on “Millwork,” singing about the desperation and repetition of a life spent on an assembly line.
Of the guys in the cast, Robert Helfinstine is by far the most charming. Whether he’s singing about driving on the open road in his 18-wheeler, or telling the audience about the pros and cons of delivering packages for UPS, he is utterly engaging. His warm, strong voice is a pleasure to follow on his many work adventures.
The biggest missteps in the 90-minute, intermission-less show are in the actual staging. A clunky set, designed by Teresa Sarkela, limits the playing space for the actors, and seems to get in the way of the action. Piles of props set off to the side look haphazard, and a continuous slideshow of cheesy stock photography illustrating each scene is distracting. It’s also completely unnecessary, since the actors have no trouble conjuring the diverse settings simply through their lines. Choreography, by Cindy Severt, is also frequently overdone, particularly at the show’s start. And although the actors undoubtedly listed tap dancing and roller skating on their resumes as special skills, there was no logical reason to incorporate those talents into the performance.
Like many of the jobs that fill up a typical resume, some of Working is fresh and exhilarating. Some of it feels like old hat. Some numbers may have you looking at the clock. But taken together, it’s a strong production that touches on our complex relationships with our professions — why we do what we do, what we might have become, and the pitfalls and pleasures of every 9 to 5.
