Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, October 3, 1993 TAG: 9310020005
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 2 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Tom Shales
DATELINE: WASHINGTON LENGTH: Medium
Now comes PBS with a somewhat politically corrected version, airing as the joint season premiere of both "American Playhouse" and "Great Performances" on Wednesday, and billed as "The Gershwins' Porgy and Bess." The performance is at least fitfully "great" and the opera is nothing if not "American" - but this version was taped in London with a British director and a British conductor, too.
It seems a pity, if not a crying shame, that the first TV production of "Porgy and Bess" has to be imported. The work has been produced on the stage in this country a couple of times in the last decade and taping either one of those versions would seem preferable to dragging one in from England. The opera is set in South Carolina.
As for the scrubbing-up, it is evident fairly early, with Porgy's entrance 20 minutes in. He's so neatly dressed, he even wears a necktie. Although still handicapped and barely able to walk, Porgy no longer hustles around Catfish Row on his knees; instead, he uses two sticks as crutches to support himself.
At the end, when Porgy leaves for New York in search of his beloved Bess, he no longer says "bring me my goat" because the goat and goat cart have been eliminated.
These changes seem entirely wise and do no harm to the story, and they give Porgy more dignity as a character. They also allow director Trevor Nunn to end on a thrilling image: Porgy, standing at last, silhouetted against a blinding light. Surely the Gershwins, George and his lyricist brother Ira, would approve.
But Nunn and producer Greg Smith made other choices which are much goofier. They shot "Porgy and Bess" not on a stage during a live performance, but in a TV studio with the actors mouthing the words to a recording made in 1989. At more than three hours, this must be the longest lip-synching session in history.
It gives the show a strange duality. On the one hand, using a TV studio allows cameras to get much closer to the performers, for greater intimacy and emotional impact; on the other, the prerecorded soundtrack tends to distance everything. You may feel you are watching two parallel Porgys and Besses rather than one completely realized performance. It puts the actors at a terrible disadvantage because it makes spontaneity almost impossible.
At certain moments, the effect is all but ludicrous. During the exquisite duet "I Loves You, Porgy" between the two main characters, Bess seems barely to be opening her mouth, and yet these great huge notes are coming out. The singer and the singing don't match.
In spite of the crucial drawback, this "Porgy and Bess" still works. Whether you have ever seen a full-length production or not, the way the big hit songs erupt from the context of the story remains exhilarating. Those songs include, of course, "Summertime," "I Got Plenty O' Nothin'," "It Ain't Necessarily So," and "Bess, You Is My Woman Now."
Not a one of them has aged a day in nearly 60 years.
Willard White as Porgy and Cynthia Haymon as Bess do terrific jobs. Gregg Baker is a lusty and muscular Crown. But the most pleasant surprise is Damon Evans as Sportin' Life; Evans had the bland role of son Lionel on "The Jeffersons" for years, but proves here he is much more than a sitcom actor. He's electrifying.
Gershwin died two years after writing "Porgy and Bess," thinking it a failure. Novelist John O'Hara, on hearing the news of Gershwin's death, said he simply refused to believe it. The astonishing vitality of Gershwin's music makes it hard to believe even now. Who is the greatest living American composer? That's easy. George Gershwin.
\ - Washington Post Writers Group
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