If life
is like a long school year, then Spelling
Bee explains why we remain in a state of
arrested development. With six characters
(apart from the four drawn from the
audience) representing a rainbow of iconic
archetypes, from the fat know-it-all to the
needy nerdy genius, and including the
over-achiever and the eccentric artist as
well as the goody-goody and the budding
libertarian, Spelling Bee takes us into the
minds of six dutiful children – and reveals
that it’s parental approval we continually
seek. There’s a strain of A Chorus Line
running through Spelling Bee, with its
characters singing about their fears of
failure and their self-doubts, and at least
one character, Leaf Coneybear, seems
destined for a life in theatre, or fashion,
or at the very least, an apartment in New
York, where he’ll be surrounded by equally
driven over-achievers.
Spelling Bee works so well because it shows
us the adult in the child – the freak we’re
afraid of becoming but cannot suppress. No
one’s normal in Spelling Bee, no more than
there’s normalcy in life – and the show
succeeds in revealing the inner oddball and
how it’s our oddities which make us
individual, and ultimately, lovable. And
there’s no question that all six primary
characters would make fascinating dinner
companions – and almost any parent proud. As
would all six performances, played with such
nuance and sensitivity that the adult
coexists happily with the child, providing
fascinating clues as to how we end up where
we are.
With sure-handed direction by veteran James
Lapine, and lovely music by William Finn,
Spelling Bee also benefits at every
performance from the willingness of four
audience members to involve themselves in
the spelling bee with a fervor that’s
contagious to the rest of the audience.
Invariably you find yourself rooting for one
contestant – only to find yourself swayed by
the gumption, or the need, or the
desperation of another. So real is their
desire that you worry for their
disappointment – and yet that’s another one
of Spelling Bee’s many coups: the manner in
which it shows its audiences the myriad ways
of winning.
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