Theatre in Review: Serenade (Jaradoa Theatre/Clemente Soto Velez Cultural Center)

	Anika Larsen and Joshua Henry.

Thomas, a young man, travels from an unspecified home to "a fictional city: a fictional time." All we know is his mother died and he's a silhouette artist. He falls for Hannah, a pretty young woman he glimpses giving a locket to a street performer. He becomes obsessed with her, without learning her name, her job, or any detail of her personality. He passes his days in a flophouse occupied by all sorts of sad cases, including a young woman who can't stop crying -- and a group of monks. The characters dress in turn-of-the-last-century clothing -- but, when they go out to a nightclub, a girl trio performs with Swing-era microphones, and everybody rocks out.

Serenade is neither the best nor the worst musical of the year -- but it certainly is the vaguest. Librettist Rachel Sheinkin has shaped her story to the contours of a fable, dispensing with any detail that smacks of specificity. Clearly, she wants her characters to be archetypes in a universal world. She meets her goal -- but whether this is in Serenade's best interest is another matter.

Anyway, Thomas is lost in the city, struggling to find work while his street-vendor application is processed. (A sojourn in a bank is a complete failure; he gives away too much money.) He has a number of odd adventures, some of them involving a group of male friends who "bury" one of their own in a coffin each time his girlfriend breaks up with him. Meanwhile, Thomas pines after Hannah, who encourages him at first, then puts him off, preferring a more conventional suitor -- one with a job, that is. Hannah gives Thomas the brush-off at his bank -- then, as happens so often in this piece, a total stranger bursts into a song that expresses Hannah's feelings.

Serenade is a hothouse flower of a show, full of delicate fancies and poetical yearnings. Touch it, however, and it wilts. Sheinkin is so evasive about time, place, and character that it is excessively difficult to care about what happens to Thomas and Hannah. By the time we get to the bittersweet finale, in which Thomas realizes the consolations of art, his story has lost any narrative momentum.

Still, this is the kind of misfire that's hard to totally dismiss, given the talent involved. The composer, Nils Olaf Dolven, who also worked on the story with Sheinkin, has provided a score that's filled with attractive ideas -- but why does each song suddenly come to a crashing halt? It's a strategy that forces the director, April Nickell, to change scenes in darkness and silence, which adds to the evening's stop-and-start quality.

Then again, the young cast is so gifted and attractive that it's pleasant to spend 80 minutes in their company, despite the circumstances. Joshua Henry pours his heart and soul into the role of Thomas, giving this poorly defined character a note of real yearning. As Hannah, Anika Larsen displays the attractive presence, warmth, and fine voice that have made her a performer to watch. Ross Bagden is his usual pro self as an apple seller who befriends Thomas. Nicole Lewis lends some sparkle to a sad ballad about a pawnshop. Eileen Rivera has a nice way with a line as several characters, especially Hannah's crusty, eccentric aunt.

Still, the show is permeated by an underlying confusion of purpose. Several songs seem far too high-powered for the fragile story -- and that goes double for Luis Salgado's athletic choreography, which tends to overwhelm the small stage. The production is ambitious in other ways, too. Tobin Ost's setting is simple -- it's basically a wall and a few objects made of packing crates -- but Herrick Goldman's lighting is extraordinarily complex, blending saturated color washes, highly directional looks, and lots of patterns as well as silhouette effects. The same is true of Mike Farfalla's sound design, which includes a number of effects as well as extensive amplification. (The seven-piece band is surprisingly large for a showcase production.) Andrea Varga's costumes are fairly well-done, although it's never clear why she went for a kind of Ragtime-on-a-budget look.

I hasten to add that Serenade got some very nice reviews -- including an approving notice in the Times -- but, to me, in all great writing, the greatness is in the specifics. Serenade has its odd moments of charm, but most of the time, like Thomas's sillouettes, it's all outline.--David Barbour