Woody’s [rating: 5]
Stuart Ward and Dani de Waal share a tender moment in “Once.” Photo by Joan Marcus.
The multi-talented “Once” ensemble sings, dances, plays instruments and acts. Photo by Joan Marcus.
When it comes to theater and films, I differ from most critics: I embrace sentimentality and romance.
And I cry a lot.
It figures, then, that I loved the 2006 film “Once.” I thought it was sweet.
And sensitive.
Now I’ve fallen in love with a new staged adaptation at the SHN Curran Theatre in San Francisco.
It re-defines what a staged musical can be.
It’s not for those who want leggy chorus girls in skimpy, glitzy costumes; choreography that finds fresh but often maddening ways for bodies to move; huge props flying overhead; or light shows that make strobes feel a thousand years old.
But it is for anyone who wants to taste the potential depths — and heights — of the human condition.
Like me.
Both bittersweet film and play concern a romance in modern day Dublin that can’t quite be actualized, a situation many in the youngish opening night audience related to — to the degree they gave “Once” a standing ovation.
Stuart Ward and Dani de Waal head a multi-talented ensemble that sings, moves rhythmically and collectively plays guitar, fiddle, accordion, cello, mandolin, banjo, piano and cajon (a box-shaped percussion instrument).
Its 10 members also portray a pack of colorful secondary characters.
Those include a laugh-evoking shopkeeper, a dorky loser drooling over a hoped-for promotion, a banker who vocalizes atrociously, a sleazy woman with proverbial heart of gold.
Ward and de Waal portray un-named characters in limbo, the guy a disheartened singer-songwriter whose day job is repairing vacuum cleaners, the girl a separated young mother struggling to cobble together a life with her mom and daughter.
Both protagonists want to heal and move forward past unsatisfying relationships.
By linking musically, they help each other get un-stuck.
While unearthing quashed emotions.
Songs range from the familiarity strains of Irish pub and folk tunes to the angry complexities of “Leave” and the simple, plaintive melodies of “When Your Mind’s Made Up,” “Gold,” and the Oscar-winning “Falling Slowly.”
“Once” won eight 2012 Tony’s, including best musical. It’s easy to see why.
Even though it takes a minute or two to get used to the accents — the guy’s Irish, the girl’s Czech. Even though it’s much less subtle than the movie (in which the star-crossed duo never overtly discusses their relationship).
The musical, in contrast, has tons more verbal and physical humor.
And every bit as much tenderness.
Such as when the girl tells the guy in Czech she loves him, but when he asks what she said, she retreats and translates it as, “It looks like rain.”
“Once” also utilizes the gimmick of letting the crowd onstage, pre-show and during intermission, to inspect the antique-mirrored, semi-circle, bi-level set by Bob Crowley — replete with cash bar selling booze, wine, beer, water.
The show also features beguiling slo-mo movements (I hesitate to call them choreography) created by Steven Hoggett.
And innovative touches such as projected supertitles in Czech; fast-paced, unpretentious direction by John Tiffany; spot-on costumes by Crowley; and lighting by Natasha Katz that helped me effortlessly switch moods.
“Once,” of course, merges the talents of Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová, whose original songs from the film are replicated, and Enda Walsh, who wrote the musical’s book — two elements that caused one theatergoer to exclaim as she was exiting: “It’s a breath of fresh Irish air.”
Halfway through the second act, my tears started to flow — and didn’t stop until after the final scene.
That duplicated my reaction to the film.
I seem to favor entertainment that makes me laugh and cry.
So I adored “Once” on film. And now the touring company has allowed me to love “Once” once again.
“Once” will play at the Curran Theatre, 445 Geary St. (between Mason and Taylor), San Francisco, through July 13. Night performances Tuesdays through Saturdays, 8 p.m. Matinees, Wednesdays, Saturdays and Sundays, 2 p.m. Tickets: $45 to $210 (subject to change). Information:(888) 746-1799 or shnsf.com.
