Wisteria Theater Company’s The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee is one of those scarce productions where everything comes together seamlessly to deliver not just what the writing intended but also underscore a collection of committed-to-their-craft performers and technical crew who ensure an evocative experience touching on a spectrum of sentiments, which begins as attendees are greeted, upon walking through the theater’s front door, with “Welcome to the Bee” before being granted a hall pass (their ticket) to the gymnasium (black box theater).
Based on Rebecca Feldman’s original play C-R-E-P-U-S-C-U-L-E (it means twilight for those wondering), which was performed by The Farm, an improvisational, New York-based comedy troupe, the show’s concept — with a significant assist by William Finn’s music and lyrics as well as Rachel Sheinkin’s true-to-its-origins book — naturally morphed into The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee musical, winning two Tony Awards, and becoming a popular staple in theaters around the world.
The premise of a prestigious spelling bee involving idiosyncratic junior high and elementary school-aged children at the Putnam Valley Middle School, alongside three supervising adults with varying degrees of their own wackiness, is something that speaks to everyone’s child and adulthood desire to succeed under pressure and make those closest to us proud even if such motivations aren’t always healthy. Add in four audience members who are traditionally brought up on stage to partake as ad-hoc contestants, and who hilariously take their time to ask about a word’s pronunciation, definition, how it’s used in a sentence, and origin, the hijinks, in tandem with a genuine heartfulness, abound relentlessly on stage.
While their “volume” can be oftentimes turned up to 11 for performative purposes, the six main competitors all resonate authentically. For instance, Leaf Coneybear (Danny Holmberg) has an unmitigated energy and eccentric imagination, as evidenced by a blanket tied around his neck like a cape, but he is also weighed down by the doleful thought he may not be smart. The youngest from an elementary magnet school, Logainne Schwartzandgrubenierre (Jenna Luck), who is compelled by her two demanding gay fathers to win the event, lisps her words despite having impassioned moments about her and others doing their civic duty. Chip Tolentino (Ali Hoghoughi), a Boy Scout who won the previous year’s Bee, has new and unexpected distractions to deal with. Marcy Park (Abby Espiritu) is the prototypical overachiever who is all business and isn’t allowed to cry. William Barfée (Drew Maidment) is the likable nerd who, to his chagrin, often has his name mispronounced (phonetically it’s Bar-fay) but is empowered by a magical foot that invokes correct spellings. Lastly, there is Olive Ostrovsky (Taylor Renee Castle), a sympathetic student who can’t afford the $25 entrance fee and has ostensibly been abandoned by her mom who is discovering herself in an Indian ashram and father who is working late as usual.
Of the three adults there is the melodramatic moderator and former Spelling Bee victor (her winning word being syzygy) Rona Lisa Peretti (Sophia Rose Bellefeuille), the Vice Principal and official pronouncer of words, Douglas Panch (Tyler Angier), who has an unrequited crush on Rona, and the ex-convict and turned-a-new-leaf “comfort” counselor Mitch Mahoney (Trae Adair) who says “Goodbye” to those who have been eliminated, hilariously handing them an apple juice box as he directs them off the stage.
Holmberg, who also doubles as Logainne’s amoral and domineering dad, imbues Leaf with a perfect amount of frolicsome and spry vigor to go along with a lurking sadness. Holmberg’s feverish characterizations reveal a persona who is overcompensating for insecurities within, and, through the arc of his performance, we witness Leaf’s confidence grow even as he, by means of a stark disassociation — as if he were possessed by the spelling gods — slowly affirms answers to queries he knows to be true.
Luck cogently gets across how catastrophic it would be for “Schwartzy” if she didn’t win. Suffice it to say, the audience can feel Logainne’s stressed, “Woe Is Me” determination with how Luck holds the final note in the number and with the way she scribbles words across her forearm before uttering them aloud; not to mention, a pent-up hurt at not seeing her birth mother which constructively implodes into rallying cries about the Department of Education’s dissolution.
Hoghoughi is highly credible as the straitlaced Chip who, due to an inconvenient puberty in the moment, must comically conceal a below-the-belt surprise that makes it difficult, if not impossible, to move ahead in the competition. Act II’s “My Unfortunate Erection/Distraction (Chip’s Lament)” conveys Chip’s temporary tragedy as Hoghoughi, whose character has been relegated to selling confections for the PTA, indiscriminately chucks candy into the audience. From overwrought preteen to Jesus, Hoghoughi also impresses with a versatility wherein he speaks with a calm tranquility after having been summoned as the biblical prophet by Espiritu’s Park.
Park is terrific as the smile-less, terminally focused and pig-tailed wunderkind who has repressed the hindrances of emotion to thrive in academics. But Marcy also has an awakening that, despite the advantages wrought out of her discipline, she ultimately has free will to influence her future however she wants; this manifests in the brilliant “I Speak Six Languages” when Espiritu, with no stuntwoman stand-in, performs martial arts (including breaking a board), dazzles with nun-chucks, twirls a baton (and a ribbon), and plays the keyboard.
Bowling over the audience with his own physical display is Maidment whose bespectacled and allergic-to-peanuts Barfée, empowered by light-up shoes, manages to hop, skip, kick, and tap away each letter with his “Magic Foot,” augmented by funny growling vocals and a brief impersonation of Elvis Presley. This and Park’s sequence, along with a hysterical slow-motion scene in Act II (also featuring Maidment’s Barfée and Angier’s Panch), are a testament to Anasha Milton’s liberated choreography which can be as “Pandemonium”-like as it is dialed down.
Spelling Bee has much heart but where it really flutters as a story is with Olive’s journey. Castle inhabits the character with a lovely finesse that communicates, with a downtrodden countenance, a raw vulnerability when we learn of her financial and familial plight and when we observe her becoming closer to Maidment’s William. From these unfortunate circumstances, though, arises a strength which rings with goosebumps during the musical’s sonic peak — “The I Love You Song.”
Furthermore, Bellefeuille, who also steps in as Olive’s mom, is personable and delightfully charismatic as the hammy Peretti who can’t resist singing about the Bee’s favorite moments. As silly as Peretti can be, Bellefeuille reminds of her outstanding vocals which are robust and pitch perfect.
Angier, whose Panch sits beside Bellefeuille’s Peretti, is perhaps the most underrated of the performers; Angier is wonderfully naturalistic with his dry-sarcastic interpretation of Panch’s words, one-liners, and the zestful readiness with which he responds to audience participants’ questions.
Adair, like his “adult” peers, leaves quite the impression of his own as the out-of-the-slammer Mitch who can keenly perceive beyond these kids’ immediately urgent goals. Adair, too, is a superstar vocalist, bringing the end of Act I up a crescendo or two and, to boot, shows off his paternal side as both Logainne and Olive’s fathers.
Director Brayden Hade has immaculately paced the disparate character narratives within the overall framework of Spelling Bee with remarkable precision, emphasizing what needs to be further punctuated while amalgamating everything into an overarching theme about (pre-) adolescent stressors, expectations, validation, and acceptance. Hade is also the screen designer of the set’s backdrop which features in-universe school ads about a scavenger hunt, dodgeball, and cupcake carnival and bake-off.
Tanya Cyr’s brick-facing scenic design, inclusive of state-championship banners and posters, combined with immersion-facilitating P.A. announcements, further solidify the illusion of being in a junior-high gymnasium. Lighting/sound designer Josh Collins gives this musical the spotlighted sense of spectacle it deserves, and music director Nolan Monsibay provides touches that are observable through the unimpeachable vocal timing and harmonies.
Having only been opened this past January by the industrious Renee Wylder and Lexi Collins, who are also, respectively, the assistant director and stage manager of this production, the Wisteria Theater is a delightfully cozy and inviting space that, by means of not just its black box, but lobby, suspends disbelief of the outside world by using a gamut of devices for storytelling purposes.
With its production of The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee being a rousing success — earning laughs, tears, and well-deserved applauses over its duration — the Wisteria Theater has a bright and bold future ahead.
Cover image caption: The cast of Wisteria Theater Company’s The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee in North Hollywood, CA. Photo by Brayden Hade.
Wisteria Theater Company’s production of The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee runs through Sunday, April 6th. For more information on the show and to purchase tickets, visit wisteriatheater.com.
