Golden Boy of the Blue Ridge at SART

Of all the plays that Southern Appalachian Repertory Theatre is staging during its 49th season, Golden Boy of the Blue Ridge feels like the best fit for the Mars Hill nonprofit. A key aspect of SART’s mission is “celebrating Appalachian culture,” and this “Bluegrass musical set in Prohibition-era Appalachia,” as SART describes it, does that as well as any play I can think of.

Owen Theater, the intimate venue on the campus of Mars Hill University where SART puts on its productions, provides a nice contrast to the large, often impersonal, venues that host Broadway shows. There’s truly not a bad seat in the house! Plays that require enormous casts and elaborate sets aren’t going to do well in this setting, so it’s vital that SART pick the right ones to produce, and with Golden Boy of the Blue Ridge it has done just that. Director William Tyler Ezzell’s production includes just 10 performers, a streamlined ensemble that requires three of them to perform double duty as musicians and members of the cast.

The farcical comedy revolves around the on-again, off-again relationship between Maggie McFarland (Lilah Price, an emerging talent making her professional acting debut) and Clay Monroe (Tristan Altobelli, a rising senior at Elon University whose career in theater seems assured). I expected much from these two young actors, tasked as they were with the lead roles, and was rewarded with confident, assured performances. But it was Chelsey Lee Gaddy’s portrayal of the widow Hazel Grubbs and Dillon Giles’ take on Maggie’s bumbling fiancé Luther Coffey that steals the show. Gaddy’s Hazel is a scantily clad Iago, toying with the other characters to further her own interests, while Giles’ take on Luther guarantees this comedy will generate laughs.   

Set designer Brae Johnson should also be commended for making the most out of the small space. Beyond the mobile wall of vegetation that we see at the beginning of each act, nearly all the play’s action takes place in a rustic cabin/speakeasy that contains little more than a table, a cast iron stove, a few chairs, and two doors, but it’s enough to conjure a sense of place. Andrew Zebrowski’s use of a projector casting an image of the Blue Ridge Mountains at sunrise and sunset, plus stars at night, in the background to illustrate the time of day is equally simple and just as effective.

The costumes Ezzell uses to dress the characters rely on a similar economy. That Maggie goes barefoot the entirety of the play and Luther wears a suit for much of it tells us more about them than several pages of dialogue might, as does Clay starting the play wearing overalls and ending it wearing Luther’s suit. In two short days, Clay’s character undergoes not only a sartorial evolution but an existential one as well.

When it comes to the use of props, the production relies on a similar streamlined efficiency. Leaning against the wall of vegetation at the beginning of the play is the story’s most important garden tool. Some will see a mere shovel; others will recognize it as Chekhov’s gun. Besides the shovel, an ax, a gun, a cast iron skillet, a jug, and a rope all play important roles in the story, but none of the props is more effective than the hand mirror Clay borrows from Maggie. The way he admires himself in it and clutches it after a visit from a pack of local girls (played with hilarity by members of the band) reinforces it as a symbol of his vanity.

Like the Irish three-act Playboy of the Western World that it’s based on, Golden Boy of the Blue Ridge, which was adapted by Peter Mills, is, at heart, a morality play. “The subject of the darker corners of our minds, and what the light leaves behind are not always welcome topics of conversation, but these places exist,” Ezzell writes in the Director’s Note. “What I hope to examine with you through Golden Boy of the Blue Ridge is how you can’t have the whole of anything: story, person, relationship, without both the light and the dark parts.”

In the play’s second song, “The Right Man for the Job,” we discover that Clay murdered his father, but by the end of the tune, Maggie and her father J.M. McFarland (Jeff Stone, in his return to the SART stage after 29 years away) are laughing and joking about the homicide. Their casual acceptance of the gruesome act is solidified in the very next song, “Never Afeared Again.” After Clay describes the cruelty he endured at the hands of his father, not only is Maggie convinced of his innocence, so is the audience. When Clay says, “Reckon I was a fool not to kill my pappy years ago,” the line received a big laugh from the July 22 attendees.

Such moral ambiguity makes sense, as the story takes place during Prohibition and features a moonshiner in J.M. who won’t hesitate to shoot someone to protect his still. This ambiguity is even more pronounced in Maggie’s ever-changing attitude toward Clay. She claims to love him, but she lies to him about her imminent marriage to Luther, then rejoices when she hears Clay might be hanged.

Despite depicting multiple murder attempts, Golden Boy of the Blue Ridge is very much a slapstick comedy. Luther walking around in his underwear never fails to amuse, and the way the band members playing the part of smitten girls shuffle across the stage after singing “A Wanted Man” is hysterical. In fact, all the dancing is enjoyable to observe, particularly at the very end when the actors weave in and out of each other while singing “Finale.” It’s a moment for which choreographer Kyrstin Ezzell should be praised, but it also made me wish that there had been more such moments in the play.

Any criticism I have is slight. Using actors in the background behind the wall of the cabin to reenact Clay trying to kill his father with a shovel feels unnecessary and even a little distracting, and the use of thick country accents is also problematic. Does it perpetuate a stereotype or reflect the way people actually spoke in the mountains of Virginia at the time? I eventually came around to the latter way of thinking, but it took a while..

During a typical year, I see more concerts than most 20somethings, so it should come as no surprise that my favorite aspect of the entire production is the music. Led by music director and guitar player Aaron Price, the old-time Appalachian string band responsible for the musical score also includes Troy Crossley on upright bass, Jack Womack on fiddle, and Adam Kampouris on mandolin and banjo. Rather than being hidden away in an orchestra pit, the quartet takes up a not insignificant portion of the stage — and they deserve it. Their rousing opening number, “Way Out Back and Beyond,” does an excellent job of setting the tone for the play, while their fast and loud playing during the description of the murder provides a perfect musical description of the grisly act.

My fellow theatergoers seemed just as impressed with the band. In the waning moments of “Finale,” they clapped not just for the actors but also in time with the music, the way appreciative fans do at a concert. It was a fitting end to the play —sincere, uplifting, and unexpected.

Golden Boy of the Blue Ridge runs through July 30 at Southern Appalachian Repertory Theatre at Owen Theatre in Mars Hill. For details and tickets, visit SARTPlays.com.

(Photos by Cheyenne Dancy/SART)