Cornelia
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Hamilton, Grant
Craig Schwartz
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By January Riddle
“The course of true love never did run smooth,” wrote Shakespeare. Although spoken by an unrequited lover in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the Bard could have given that proclamation to a majority of love affairs throughout the ages. He could also have mentioned that fame alters love’s course considerably, placing deep pits, and hefty obstacles in the way.
Countless impediments litter the road traveled by Alabama’s most famous gubernatorial couple in “Cornelia,” Mark V. Olsen’s edgy, unsettling play about love, power, politics and their collisions and collusions.
Named for the wife of notorious governor George C. Wallace, this Old Globe Theatre production, keenly directed by Ethan McSweeny, is not a fairytale love story, although it does have some of the starry fable about it. Based on the real-life relationship between the notorious segregationist and the divorced beauty queen who became his second wife, “Cornelia” showcases her cabin-to-mansion rise to privilege and influence. Married just two weeks before Governor Wallace’s inauguration to a second term, the couple seems to be on the way to the White House, thanks to his national prominence and her clever resolve. With a quirky interpretation of seventies feminism, Olsen gives her the credit for manifesting that destiny using a combination of flirty manipulation and adroit determination.
Hitching her star to his power train delivers a much bumpier ride than either spouse expected. When a would-be assassin’s bullet claims Wallace’s physical and
psychological mobility shortly before the beginning of his 1972 Presidential campaign, the train becomes a teeter-totter ridden by a pair of anxious adolescents playing power games. The downside, conveyed by the karma of hubris, fate, or a combination, proves their mutual and individual undoing.
They had family help in mapping both ups and downs. As Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare’s most famous star-crossed lovers learned, undoing family ties doesn’t release the bindings, and love is not enough to conquer all. Cornelia’s brassy, potty-mouthed mom Ruby is at first a formidable campaigner for her son-in-law’s Presidential run. But when her alcoholism prompts too many slips from loose-lips, she becomes an embarrassment and an outcast.
Wallace’s sister-in-law Marie takes the opposite turn, changing from Cornelia’s foremost detractor to vigorous defender, once she witnesses George’s spousal abusive side. Not so, his brother Gerald, an Iago in banker’s clothing from propitious beginning to vexing end.
All this twisting and turning makes for an engaging, albeit tense, melodrama. Under the supervision of a less-committed director or in the hands of less-skilled and dedicated actors, this play could become a farce. Instead, it is uncomfortably like watching a real-life, modern-day family tragedy on video cam. There are real human emotions on display here, keeping this play from becoming trite or hyperbolic.
Melinda Page Hamilton portrays Cornelia precisely and courageously, seamlessly shape-shifting her myriad personas and leaving her in a pitiful puddle. Robert Foxworth is no less acute as George, moving from charming to frightening, from victor to spoiled without losing a trace of truth. Kudos to Beth Grant’s hilarious and grand characterization of the irrepressible Ruby, who keeps the story from spiraling too-smoothly.
Hollis McCarthy makes you want to just slap the annoyingly prim Marie, but she also elicits empathy during the discussion with Cornelia at the ironing board--a scene that used the playwright’s fine tuning because it easily could have slid into pathos. T. Ryder Smith as Gerald had perhaps the more difficult role, but he maintains the nuances of a borderline personality without caricaturing.
John Lee Beatty’s somewhat cartoonish scenic design works, despite being a bit too tacky; Tracy Christensen’s costumes are a little nutty at times, but mostly more fun than foolish, as were those early 70s styles.
Cornelia may be historically based, but that doesn’t make it predictable. From its randy one-liner beginnings to its wrenching end, it keeps you as off-balance as its namesake. After all, smooth courses are run only by imaginary lovers.
Cornelia plays in San Diego’s Old Globe Theatre in Balboa Park through June 21.
Curtain is 8 pm Thurs-Sat., 7 pm Sun, Tues, Weds. Matinees at 2 pm Sat-Sun
Tickets are $29-$76.
For reservations: 619-234-5623 or www.TheOldGlobe.org
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