The Telegram Boy (Michael Lepore) arrives with important information for Sabina (Micaela Diamond), Mrs. Antrobus (Ruthie Ann Miles, right) and their pets in Ethan Lipton’s The Seat of Our Pants.
Adapting a Thornton Wilder play into a musical has notable historical precedents. His 1954 comedy, The Matchmaker, was, of course, the basis for Hello, Dolly! And in 1955, Our Town was transformed into a live television musical starring Frank Sinatra. Now comes The Seat of Our Pants, based on Wilder’s wildest work, his 1942 Pulitzer Prize–winner, The Skin of Our Teeth. Under the direction of Leigh Silverman, with book and score by Ethan Lipton, this faithful interpretation gets by on novelty in the first act, thrives on its merits in the second, and offers hope, if not structure, in the third.
Mr. Antrobus (Shuler Hensley) falls prey to the charms of Lily-Sabina Fairweather (Diamond). Photographs by Joan Marcus.
Like an optometrist switching between lenses, Wilder, via Lipton, tests his audience’s vision by continually widening and narrowing the play’s apocalyptic focus. Thus he introduces the Antrobus clan as a “typical American family” who, as it becomes clear, also represent the entirety of civilization. Mr. Antrobus (a boisterous Shuler Hensley) is an overworked dad who is also human ingenuity incarnate. He invented the wheel and the alphabet, but still must manage his unruly household, which is located in New Jersey, or perhaps in a prehistoric cave: “The author hasn’t decided.”
Mrs. Antrobus (Ruthie Ann Miles, perfectly dry), in her 5,000th year of marriage, handles the domestic chores; she is the inventor of the apron, after all. Protecting her children is her raison d’être, and it’s no easy task, what with young Gladys (Amina Faye) discovering her womanhood, and problem child Henry (Damon Daunno), scarred with the mark of Cain on his forehead, running around with a lethal slingshot.
Mrs. Antrobus tries her best for her children, Gladys (Amina Faye, left) and Henry (Damon Daunno).
Everybody ought to have a maid, even when the end of the world is nigh, and fortunately for this production, Micaela Diamond is on hand as Sabina, who not only does light dusting but serves, in a Shakespearean capacity, as the all-knowing underling. Here, that means consistently breaking character to provide the audience amusing reality checks. “I hate this show and every line in it,” she confides.
The Act I dilemma is nothing less than the onset of the Ice Age, and the family pets, a dinosaur and a mammoth, are not happy. Nor is Mrs. Antrobus when she learns that her husband has brought home a bunch of asylum seekers. Sure, the group includes Homer and Moses, but food and fuel are scarce. Wilder wrote this scenario during the grim days of World War II. It was probably not Lipton’s intent to offer such an on-the-nose modernization, refugees evading ice, but he does summarize our contemporary plight nicely by having Sabina ponder, “We made it through the recession-pandemic-wildfire-oligarchy by the seat of our pants. One more crisis like that and then where will we be?”
The music in Act I seems incidental, in the sense of secondary. Songs are wedged into the storyline, and their messages are sometimes odd. “Stuff It Down Inside” is a curious advisory to keep emotions hidden from one’s family, and “Into the Darkness” is an end-of-days invocation with a meaty plea: “Let us pray we smell a brisket / As we slip into the black.”
The second act, by comparison, is a melodic treat, with numbers that propel the action forward and give insight into the characters. Having apparently dodged an icy death, the family has traveled to Atlantic City to attend the convention of the “Ancient and Honorable Order of Mammals.” Mr. Antrobus has been elected its new president, which would be fine if not for also having to serve as Noah, saving his family and fellow conventioneers from the extinction-level storms heading their way.
There is no love lost between Mr. Antrobus and his son, Henry.
Further complicating the family’s life, Henry has grown sociopathic (“You’ve never seen a person cursed with urges,” he demonically sings), Gladys turns rebellious (“You poisoned my world and there is no cure”), and Sabina has transformed into a beauty-contest queen, eco-ironically named Miss Fairweather, who is intent on seducing Mr. Antrobus away from his wife, causing a near-revolt among the actors. They break character and join ranks to oppose this less-than-feminist scene.
Things calm down considerably by Act III, which is set back at the Antrobus homestead at the conclusion of a seven-year war. The womenfolk have survived, with Gladys somehow even managing to have given birth to a daughter. The men, too, have made it, though Henry’s evil collides with his father’s heroism, resulting in a fight that once again breaks the play open, never to fully recover, but to ultimately bring the show full circle. “That’s all we do—begin again! Over and over,” observes Sabina, seemingly referring to both the show and the human condition.
The Seat of Our Pants runs through Dec. 7 at The Public Theater (425 Lafayette St.). Evening performances are at 7 p.m. Tuesday through Sunday; matinees are at 1 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. For tickets and information, visit publictheater.org.
Book, Lyrics & Music: Ethan Lipton
Direction: Leigh Silverman
Choreography: Sunny Min-Sook Hitt
Sets: Lee Jellinek
Costumes: Kaye Voyce
Lighting: Lap Chi Chu
Sound: Drew Levy
