Pop-Culturalist.com

Roundabout Theatre Company’s charming new production of Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick‘s She Loves Me will seem familiar to most. In fact, the story is not original. You’ve probably seen it on screen– The Shop Around the Corner (1940), In the Good Old Summertime (1949), or You’ve Got Mail (1998)– or maybe you’ve even seen it on stage in its original conception: Miklós László’s Parfumerie (1937). László’s play has had a remarkable life, and the frequency with which writers adapt it is a testament to the story’s charm. As in the László play, She Loves Me‘s two main characters, Amalia and Georg, are rival co-workers in a perfume shop in 1930s Budapest. Despite their sparring at work, they are in fact a perfect match, and they don’t realize that they are anonymous pen pals, addressing each other in their letters as “Dear Friend” and wooing each other with words. This show is thus classic romantic comedy, with the bubble and fizz of a light champagne.

It is worth emphasizing that She Loves Me tells an oft-told story– there are few surprises here. Originally mounted on Broadway in 1963, the show has had only one Broadway revival prior to its current production. Though it’s a show that has inspired legions of devotees, the fact of the matter is that there are reasons we haven’t seen more revivals of it: the plot is tired, only a few of the songs are memorable (though the lush orchestrations are sophisticated), and the characters are familiar to us.

But these shortcomings in the actual show should not suggest that this isn’t a great production– in fact, it is a near-flawless production of a mediocre, but endearing show. The production is tickled with Old World charm and is as sweet and richly presented as a decadent treat from Mendl’s, that famous patisserie that delighted viewers in Wes Anderson’s The Grand Budapest Hotel. Indeed, Maraczek’s– the main store in which the lovers-to-be are introduced, spar, and are eventually reconciled– would be equally at home as a shop around the corner from Anderson’s Mendl’s. In this production, the delight is in the details: the pastel-laced set unfolds like a jewel box and the European flair of the waltz- and arpeggio-speckled score is on full display.

The real strength of this production, however, are the top-notch performances. Laura Benanti plays Amalia, a voracious reader and level-headed romantic, with intelligence, wit, and dreamy perfection. She is a national treasure and uses her voice like a Stradivarius violin. Her rendition of “Vanilla Ice Cream” has easily become the definitive version of the song. Zachary Levi makes a welcome return to Broadway as Georg, the steady center of Maraczek’s, and he is driven and exuberant as he explores his growing feelings for his “Dear Friend.” He brings goofy, lovable charm to his role, especially in the acrobatic title song. Gavin Creel‘s Stephen Kodaly is a strutting peacock of a playboy who nonetheless dazzles us. Jane Krakowski is winning as the romantically-gullible Ilona, who keeps saying “yes” to the preening Kodaly when experience repeatedly tells her to say “no.” The enchantment that the performers cast was undermined at times by Nicholas Barasch’s young and eager Arpad, whose overacting was tonally at odds with the rest of the flawless cast.

The real moment I fell for She Loves Me came deep into act one, when the production went beyond the carbonated fizz of romantic comedy. After she has been seemingly stood up for her first meeting with “Dear Friend” at a romantic cafe (we all know the scene), Amalia lowers her eyes as the sting of rejection wells up and seeps out of her. Her hopes and bids to cast away loneliness– that malady made all the more oppressive and prevalent in the crowded anonymity of modern city life– were dashed by the absence of a mystery man to whom she had opened her heart. A sympathetic maitre-d’ (played to comedic perfection by Peter Bartlett), who has seen his fair share of romantic rendezvous, kindly praises her, “You’ve waited for two hours– you’re a patient woman.” And with the gentle conviction of a true romantic, Amalia dabs her eyes and smiles. “I’ve been waiting for him my entire life– what’s two hours?” In that brief but tender scene, Roundabout Theatre Company’s She Loves Me achieves more human poignancy than many productions achieve in their 2-plus-hour running time. Like the creams and perfumes being sold with flash and finesse at Maraczek’s, this sparkling production serves as a balm to the ache of loneliness, heartbreak, and any number of other maladies that people temporarily abandon once they set foot inside a theater. It is sweet, it is gentle, it is endearingly old-fashioned, and it might be just what you need to shake off the blues of modern city life.

Photo Credit: Joan Marcus