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‘Voice of the Prairie’ at Theatre Gael
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
THEATER REVIEW: “The Voice of the Prairie.” Through April 10. The verdict: Stories and slapstick from the cornball roots of radio.
For Leon Schwab, a harried radio announcer who cons listeners into sending donations to a fictitious charity case named Miss Emily, “the magic of the ether” isn’t looking too promising.
That is, until he strikes gold by employing David Quinn, an authentic Irish storyteller who conquers the airwaves with the ribald tales of his adventures with a blind girl named Frankie.
This is the essential premise of “The Voice of the Prairie,” John Olive’s craftily corny celebration of radio’s roots, which Theatre Gael is staging with a cast of three led by its uproarious artistic director, John Stephens.
Set in the Midwest in the early 1920s, “Voice” charts the humble days when radio was an audio-almanac of hog prices, fashion tips, folk music and serial dramas that made life among the amber waves of Kansas, Iowa, Nebraska, etc., a bit more tolerable.
Smartly directed by Chad Yarborough and dominated by an enormous wooden radio designed by Stephens, the show shifts between 1895 (when David and his Poppy landed on these shores and 1923, when Schwab’s dubious scheme begins to pay off.
In a reversal that takes a little getting used to, Gabriel Dean plays both Poppy and the adult David, while Stephens portrays the young David, Schwab and an asthmatic preacher in love with the adult Frankie. Caroline Masclet inhabits the skin of feral child Frankie, who seduces David and runs away from her father, and the older Francis, who matures into a prim, Helen Keller-like schoolteacher.
Actually, all three performers are required to change costumes and personalities inside the large radio that doubles as a dressing room.
Dean’s Poppy, smoking a pipe and wearing a chimneylike hat, is a bit too quaint at first. But his David proves to be an effectively mellow foil to Schwab’s fast-talking Svengali. As the hayseed Frankie, whose intuition is such that she actually “sees” better than the orphaned David, Masclet is first-rate.
Stephens, who is too seldom seen onstage, is loud and nasal, fearless and foolhardy in his depiction of Schwab, a hopelessly flustered stooge who speaks in the old “you dirty rat” style of vaudeville. Because of the frequent visits to the radio-wardrobe, Stephens’ bow tie is constantly cattywampus; and by the end of the night, his unruly shirt collar has almost morphed into a separate character. None of this looks intentional, but it’s hilarious and all of a piece with Schwab’s general state of disarray.
Kicky as Irish coffee, this cleverly written screwball comedy is laced with adrenaline-draining physicality and suspenseful twists and turns. Will Schwab’s scandal be discovered by the Federal Communications Commission? Will David and Frankie be united, much to the glee of their fervent fans? Tune in to “The Voice of the Prairie” to find out.
THE 411: 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays; 5 p.m. Sundays. Through April 10. $16-$22. 14th Street Playhouse, 173 14th St. N.E., Atlanta. 404-733-4754, www.theatregael.com.
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