When you see a guy reach for stars in the sky ...

You can bet that it's Des McAnuff stunt-casting Guys and Dolls ...

Show Business Weekly review: Guys and Dolls

I love contemporary musicals, but Guys and Dolls will always be one of my favorites, thanks to its gorgeous, jazzy, perfect score; its snappy, vivid dialogue; and its alluring mix of sweeping romance and brash comedy. It also features two of the musical theater's juiciest female roles -- two women who, at the onset, are at quite opposite ends of the female continuum, but who discover, by the end, that they have quite a bit in common. (And that's the truth, ladies -- sharing stories of woeful relationships and bemoaning misbehaving men are still two of the quickest paths to fierce female friendship. We dolls always have much to discuss -- thanks, guys.)

It's interesting now to remember the appeal of Sarah and Adelaide at two very different points in my own life. Guys and Dolls was my very first high school musical, and I was desperate to play Sarah, insert myself into a seamless musical-theater plot, and fall in love with my costar (of course, right?). I put my swoony heart and soul into "I'll Know" at the audition -- and ended up playing the second Hot Box Girl from the left. But I remember prancing off the stage one night after "Take Back Your Mink" and jumping up and down for about fifteen minutes. The audience was a drug, and I was one addicted 15-year-old.

It seems only fitting then, that by the time I got to graduate school, I had turned into a scenery-chewing, audience-hungry performer and could slink comfortably into Adelaide's mink stole and shiny dressing gowns. Faith Prince has been something of an idol/role model for me in my performing career, and her Tony Award-winning performance as Adelaide in the 1992 revival of Guys and Dolls is legendary (and still preserved on CD, thank goodness). Sweet, saucy, lovable, and adorable, she is the very definition of the brassy bombshell -- a quirky heroine with enough personality, pluck, and moxie to knock your average, paper-thin ingenue to the floor.

So while I give Lauren Graham kudos for trying a more remote, deadpan take on the role, it's hard to imagine a Guys and Dolls that could support such a lifeless Adelaide at its center. And then there's the problem of stunt casting. Before the show began, the older woman seated next to me turned to her friend and stage-whispered: "Is she really going to sing and dance -- Lorelai?" Lorelai was Graham's character on the WB series "The Gilmore Girls," for which Graham is best known (but doesn't, for the record, have much to do with Guys and Dolls). So in a sense, maybe Graham felt that she had to do something new to differentiate herself even further from the character people "know" her as playing in a different medium ... ?

Now I've confused myself, but I do know that something doesn't add up in a Guys and Dolls where the bookish Sarah becomes the quirkier, more lovable character (hooray for Kate Jennings Grant!) and Adelaide simmers quietly in the background.

For those of us who live and love theater, different characters speak to us at different moments in our lives. I'm all for reinventing female archetypes, but juicy characters need juice.