Fiddler on the Roof

This is a production of Fiddler on the Roof worth treasuring; I hope they film it. I have sat through some wrong-headed productions of this musical that ranged from laughable to insufferable; and I have seen probably the most admired productions; but I have not seen a Fiddlerthat even approached the perfectly balanced artistry of this one. The opening night audience didn’t just seem to be delighted: many of us were awestruck.

The serious elements of the story of an impoverished rural shtetl caught in the growing economic struggles and increasingly open anti-Semitism of Eastern Europe, particularly the Russian pogroms, which will lead to the Nazi Holocaust, reflect the characters’ proud traditions breaking down under modern pressures. There is a joy and pride in “Tradition,” but there is also a confusion in the breakdown of old ways due to a fragmenting society (some of these villages will change nationalities several times in the succeeding decades: Polish to Russian to Ukrainian and Lithuanian, etc.) and to modern industrial change (e.g., Motel’s sewing machine). The comedy and pathos evoked by these changes versus Tevye’s desperate attempts at orthodox rigidity give this story its rich human value.

Donna Feore’s exquisitely detailed direction carefully preserves the Jewish flavor and traditions of the script while making their universal applications and relevancies movingly clear. There is not one false note: no obvious joking or exaggerations, no easy or corny laughs, no tricks or virtuosic movement for its own sake, but clearly exemplary virtuosity, as in the celebratory dancing at the wedding and heartbreaking moments of true, not melodramatic, suffering. Scott Wentworth’s Tevye and Kate Hennig’s Golde virtually stop the show, for instance, in their quiet, understated “Do You Love Me?”, an aging husband and wife considering the unspoken love that has grown through all their years of caring for one another. I’ve not seen that sentimental number performed before with such touching, untheatrical reality.

Shelley Hanson’s orchestra (about 25 players) sounds wonderful; the singing and dancing is all first rate. I didn’t see the usual credit, but the “Bottle Dance” looked like Jerome Robbins’s original choreography.

Allen Moyer’s sets and Dana Osborne’s costumes range from realistic, plain elements of the impoverished rural village life to whimsical images suggested by paintings of Marc Chagall. Tevye, the milkman, drags a worn cart because his horse is lame; but the dream sequence he invokes for his wife flies huge, wild, masked figures over their simple bedroom. We move from household scenes to drunken fights and celebrations, solemn ceremonies to a near-tragic exodus of a whole town. Perhaps the most telling element defining these changes is Michael Walton’s inspired lighting designs.

The central figure, Tevye, a philosophical upholder of Jewish traditions, learns to bend to accommodate his changing times. The pattern and limits of his struggle center on his caring for and marrying off his five daughters, for whom he cannot afford a dowry. The tradition he honors requires a matchmaker to present a potential suitor and the father to approve. But after Tevye agrees to an arranged marriage for his daughter Tzeitel with Lazar Wolf (Steve Ross), a wealthier man his own age, he learns that she has sworn to marry her childhood friend Motel (pronounced Mottl, not a motor hotel), played by Andre Morin. Tevye bends because the two are so in love. But when his daughter Hodel (Jacquelyn French) and the revolutionary Perchik (Mike Nadajewski) tell him they are engaged and want his blessing, not his permission, Tevya’s acceptance is strained, especially after Perchik is arrested and Hodel follows him to Siberia. Finally, when bookish daughter Chava (Keely Hutton) falls in love with Russian soldier Fyedka, Tevye cannot accept a marriage outside his faith. The pair later elope together. Paul Nolan, who plays the funny evil cousin in Tommy and was a very pure Jesus in Superstar, gives special dignity to Fyedka.)

In the end, the family in remnants joins virtually all the Jews of the village to sadly, but hopefully leave for another country. And accept or join or not, Tevye blesses all his children.

I just list the actors’ names here because every one of these roles is cast so splendidly that I needn’t single them out. And I wouldn’t want Scott Wentworth as Tevye to change a note, a gesture, a movement, an expression, or delivery of even one word.

I just read that one of my Canadian colleagues reviewed this Fiddler On the Roof as “A perfect production.” And who am I to disagree with a local observer?