STAGE REVIEW : ‘Amadeus’ Brings Vienna to Occidental

One of the best kept secrets in L.A. is Keck Theater, on a hilltop at Occidental College. It’s a 2-year-old, 400-seat house that combines acoustically rich, state-of-the-art technology with the flavor and intimacy of a small European opera house. Short of a trip to Vienna, it’s the best possible venue to see the Occidental Theater Festival’s “Amadeus.”

The production lives up to the royal pomp of the setting. Susan Gratch’s set, in fact, suggests a frosted wedding cake of an opera house. In addition, box seats on two upper galleries curl along the sides of the house, making the experience of Mozart’s battle with court composer Salieri, “the patron saint of mediocrity,” special indeed.

It was initially annoying that the house was refrigerated like a meat-packing plant on opening night. But the cold draft of air on my head sent me bounding upstairs to the comparative warmth of a cozy box, which happily helped turn the experience into a tasty aria of callow fops, affable royalty and court scoundrels.

Staged as part of the Hillside Repertory Company’s four-play summer season, “Amadeus” is the festival’s single indoor repertory show. The other three productions are in the outdoor Hillside Theater.

The measure of John Bouchard’s staging is that it opens up new ways of looking at Peter Shaffer’s play. The bloodletting here is a wonderfully anguished spectacle brought to life with telltale detail and style, from D Martyn Bookwalter’s moody lighting to Nancy Jo Smith’s sumptuous costumes to Hugh Hardyman’s exquisite sound design, with touches of Mozart’s operas filling the air.

The supporting cast in this 18-member company makes brief, fleeting sorties; particularly sharp are Tom Shelton’s dim but charming Emperor Joseph and Anne West’s loyal machinations as Mozart’s wife at wit’s end. All, of course, serve the celebrities: James Martin’s callow Salieri and Morgan Rusler’s compulsive Mozart.

The usual Mozart in “Amadeus” is physically smaller than the usual Salieri, like a wiry terrier yipping at the heels of the anointed court composer. Here, Rusler’s Mozart, albeit boyish and crudely boisterous as required, is physically larger than the feral Martin. It opens up another dimension--but this production is full of them.