Love in Bloom

By T.E. Kalem

THEY'RE PLAYING OUR SONG Book by Neil Simon Music by Marvin Hamlisch Lyrics by Carole Bayer Sager

Broadway's paladin of laughter is back. It almost seems like an act of chivalry for Neil Simon to bestow his tonic comic gifts on a season as arid as this one has been. Of course, he has able assistance in this musical that, according to a program note, is "loosely based on the real-life relationship between the show's composer Marvin Hamlisch and its lyricist Carole Bayer Sager." Perhaps that is why the sharp crackle of humor in They 're Playing Our Song seems to emanate from a warming log fire of shared humanity.

Although Simon rarely deals with young people or with bright show-biz professionals, his tart and wacky one-liners are in perfect accord with the temperaments of his hero and heroine. The show is very New Yorky in mood, with an opening backdrop of the Manhattan skyline that is like a bas-relief of tinseled Christmas trees. A top-name pop composer. Vernon Gersch (Robert Klein), surveys the scene from his luxury apartment where he first meets Sonia Walsk (Lucie Arnaz), an aspiring lyricist much in awe of his success. When she picks up his solid-gold Oscar, she is astonished: "They're lighter than I thought!" Quips Vernon: "They're chocolate inside."

Sonia and Vernon fall in love, or are finessed into it by Simon's engagingly backhanded ploys. They collaborate blissfully, move in together and then face a period of maladjustment. Away from his piano, Vernon is a bundle of neuroses and almost inarticulate about his deepest feelings. Candid beyond discretion, Sonia seems to be carrying a guttering torch for a phone nemesis named Leon who calls at all hours, preferably 3 a.m. After some murky psychologizing about the schizophrenic difficulties of living and working together, the pair split and, copybook fashion, kiss and make up.

This becomes believable because the personalities of Klein and Arnaz are so appealing that you root for them. Klein has a flair for light comedy that is mightily infectious, and he commands the stage like a pirate sweeping a deck. Arnaz matches his strength, and she sings her lyrics in-depth with Streisand's gift for matching feeling with meaning. She hurdles the barricade of being the daughter of Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz by imitating neither, but she has inherited their incomparable comic timing.

On a report card, Hamlisch's music and Sager's lyrics score no higher than Bs, but they possess a finger-snapping vitality that turns explosive in the title number. A well-earned A goes to Douglas W. Schmidt's stunningly sophisticated sets, Tharon Musser's evocative lighting and Ann Roth's clever costumes. Great joy has come to Shubert Alley.

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