‘Goodnight, Oscar’ @ WaterTower Theatre
Photos by Paris Marie Productions
—Jan Farrington
It’s difficult to describe the impact of pianist, movie actor, and wit-about-town Oscar Levant to generations who never saw him on the spanking-new medium of television during the 1950s. Some may have assumed Oscar was only performing the part of a cynical, people-loathing, deeply depressed gentleman of fragile mental balance—but he was the real deal. Not surprisingly, he was a favorite guest of NBC’s Jack Paar, host of The Tonight Show—whose sometimes melancholy, dry-as-dust sense of humor dovetailed with Oscar’s.
Doug Wright’s Good Night, Oscar—running at WaterTower Theatre through April 12—does a clever and energetic job of getting inside the man, by breaking the story apart a bit, from the realities of the day (Oscar is “on the lam”—long story—and also booked to appear on the Paar show at the end of this day in 1958). There are multiple layers: fragments of memories, plus a serious haunting by Oscar’s friend, mentor and nemesis, the composer George Gershwin. Why live your own life when you can keep George’s going…forever?
The script (brought to life convincingly by director Terry Martin) is essentially a “will he or won’t he?” set up: Will Levant hold things together long enough to appear live on Paar’s Tonight Show that evening? Will the network suits allow him to go on—or his “keepers” drag him away too soon? The problem is, the actual guest spot is given only a smidge of time toward the end of the show, and doesn’t give us enough exposure to “that” Oscar to find out how we respond to him. Despite his dark pronouncements and grim face, there was a dangerous sparkle about the man that made even a pre-teen like me sit up and take note. Wright’s script doesn’t quite manage it. Nobody asked me to be the play doctor, but I’d recommend a heavier dose of Paar-and-Levant if Wright ever does a tweak.
Nonetheless, Jakie Cabe’s performance as Oscar feels very true as far as it goes. In the backstage scenes that take up most of the run time, he is funny, defiant, despairing, resentful, manipulative, and an absolute whirlwind of moods and attitudes to his wife June (Leslie Marie Collins). She loves him (we think) but is up to her eyebrows with the stuff he’s put her through. Collins creates a strong portrait of emotions gripped hard—and her wide-skirted turquoise dress is just like one of my mother’s from the same end of the ‘50s. (Kudos to costume designer Paige Triplett’s work on that outfit and other period get-ups, including Oscar’s heavy tweeds and Gershwin’s sleek tux.)
Joey Folsom crafts a light-footed portrait of Paar, an oddball, uber-smart charmer if there ever was one. Folsom gives him the right sort of elusiveness—you couldn’t classify him, but you never stopped tuning in. Teeth-grinding network honcho Bob Sarnoff (Michael Miller) is horrified that Paar’s letting Oscar come on; the show’s young gopher Max (Sam Williamson) pops in and out with a busy/cheerful vibe—though we’re not sure who he’ll help in the end. And Gabriel D. Hill is upright (and justifiably nervous) as Alvin, Oscar’s white-coated “man Friday,” who tries hard to watch over his intake of pills and general mental health.
Cabe’s hunched, sprawled body language telegraphs Oscar’s collapsible state of mind—and his gut-deep reactions to George Gershwin’s sudden appearances fully reveal the hold GG has had on his life for decades—after he promised the dying young composer he’d make sure his music was always played…at the cost of his own composing and concertizing. Michael Leadbetter’s perky, charming performance creates its own edge and contradictions: his George is (or breezily pretends to be) unaware of how much that promise costs his friend Oscar.
WTT’s production is well worth seeing—but the day after, I’d suggest you sit down and YouTube a look at clips from Paar’s Tonight years…and the quirky, taking-chances lineup of guests he brought on, including Oscar Levant.
WHEN: March 24-April 12, 2026
WHERE: Addison Performing Arts Center, 15650 Addison Road, Addison TX
WEB: watertowertheatre.org
