No matter how many times it's been staged, when Joseph is done with such verve as at the Golden Apple, it seems shiny, new. A fun version of the Biblical story, it has a lively woman(!) narrator, here winsome Angela Bond, of wonderful voice. Same praise applies to handsome Apple newcomer Steven Scarpetti, so right down center assuming "Joseph's Coat" as well as explaining dreams in song. Treats from his brothers include their moseying like cowboys to lie to their dad about Joseph being dead when they've sent him to be a slave. (On one strange camel, yet!) Is it any wonder the hoe-downers can later lethargically switch to Middle Eastern Parisiens during a drought when they recall "Those Canaan Days" of plenty? That they can form a chorus line? Or be led zanily by brother Napthali (smooth Brad Wages) doing a "Benjamin Calypso"?
Ben Turoff, after being duly deceived as Jacob, is a stitch doubling as befuddled cuckold Potiphar, until he discovers what Joseph has been doing besides dusting around in his apron. Added to ballet movements by Mrs. Potiphar/Belinda Allen: sexy bumps and grinds, as if a prelude to Pharoah/Dewayne Barrett's Elvis-like gyrations. How he, in his golden boots, and Joseph, in sheer lilac topcoat, have girls going around in circles! Geoffrey Hefflefinger as youngest brother Benjamin also seems shyest.
This production doesn't have onstage crowds of children (amateur theaters' great indirect ticket-sellers). Instead of an onstage pyramid, a proscenium frame bears squiggly cartouches. Otherwise, director Kyle Turoff has made effective use of traditional staging, limited space (with the narrator sometimes popping up in unexpected places), and sight gags. From the overture on, John Visser and his musicians sound grander than their number, so Joseph's story comes through loud and clear.
