Act II Playhouse presents Lerner and Loewe's 'Camelot'

Regrettably, its virtues largely end there.

The fault, more or less, lies with the material. Camelot, the final collaboration between Lerner (book and lyrics) and Loewe (music), cannot approach the greatness of their magnum opus, My Fair Lady — or even the good-natured charm of lesser works like Paint Your Wagon and Brigadoon.

Old-fashioned values

Several songs from the score have lingered in the public consciousness, most notably “If Ever I Would Leave You” and “The Lusty Month of May.” But the melodies are simplistic — a problem exacerbated here by banal piano accompaniment (by Dan Matarazzo) — and the lyrics particularly inane. Try not to groan when you hear wicked Mordred (Luke Bradt) sing of “making my Beelzebubble burst.”

Lerner’s libretto drags matters even farther down. Long-winded discourses on philosophy, goodness, and the virtue of law frequently stop the show dead, their noble messages hobbled by leaden prose. Although the themes introduced by the musical — respect, tolerance, and fairness — remain as urgent today as when the show premiered, their delivery sounds horribly dated.

Pfeiffer works hard to deliver a surefooted evening. Working with set designer Adam Riggar and costume designer Janus Stefanowicz, he eschews familiar Arthurian tropes. Although a circular platform takes center stage, there’s no round table to be found, and the ensemble wears clothes that limn medieval and modern periods.

Most of the actors treat the book scenes with the seriousness you would expect from a play. This doesn’t distract from their overall silliness, but it makes them more palatable than they appear on the page.

Eileen Cella particularly charms as Queen Guenevere. Though her soprano lacks the sweetness of Julie Andrews, the role’s fabled originator, she excels through keen musicality and intelligent characterization. From her first entrance, this queen is restless and searching — a woman whose intellect spans far beyond the bounds of her expected role.

Queen of Hearts

Here, Guenevere’s marriage to King Arthur (Jeffrey Coon) stands out as a relationship of equals. As a ruler, he seems rudderless before their marriage; only through her influence does he enact the revolutionary changes that define his rulership. She plants the seeds of peace and brotherhood in his mind, and we can see them grow.

Similarly, her private love for Sir Lancelot (Kevin Toniazzo-Naughton) doesn’t feel like a wanton act in this production. Cella’s delivery of “I Loved You Once in Silence,” far and away the musical’s best song, charts a journey of personal discovery that exists ahead of its time. With unforced humor and admirable restraint, Cella walks away with the show.

Would that her colleagues could approach her level. The bloom has come off Coon’s once-beautiful baritone, leaving behind an instrument that moves cautiously between registers, often sounding insecure and awkwardly placed. Never a first-rate actor, his deficits become more apparent without a gorgeous voice to hide them behind. Coon cannot summon the obsessive swirl of anger and love that plagues Arthur when he discovers the romance between his cherished wife and his beloved right-hand man.

Toniazzo-Naughton sings pleasantly but lacks the sonority one expects from a Lancelot. His stage manner is often staggeringly awkward, particularly when he should come across as a swashbuckler par excellence. (Ian Rose is credited as fight choreographer). Although meant to be his foils, ensemble members Jordan Dobson and Rajeer Alford nearly joust him off the stage.

Several fine performances emerge — Bradt, in particular, nicely avoids playing Mordred as a queer stereotype. Scott Langdon does commendable double duty as sorcerer Merlyn and comic King Pellinore, and Iman Aaliyah brings welcome warmth to Tom of Warwick. Good voices abound in the choral numbers, but no one is well served by Dann Dunn’s ragtag choreography.

These disparities seem emblematic of the musical as a whole. Healthy doses of talent and pluck cannot always overcome weak material, and the long evening ends with a lot to answer for on the debit line. Camelot may have enchanted the public “for one brief shining moment,” but that time has passed.