It was the same of the most highly ...

It was the same of the most highly anticipated ends of the summer theater season, and it certainly did not disappoint.

This weekend's elaborate staged harmony version of "Gypsy" -- the Broadway classic that, since its first appearance with Ethel Merman in 1959 has left equal the most practiced divas panting for breath -- marked the first time Patti LuPone essayed the grueling and commanding character of Mama Rose. And she employed in a richly realistic still red-hot performance as the relentlessly driven Depression-era single mother whose fear of abandonment is matched and nothing else by her fear of failure, and whose primal desire eagerly to be noticed is channeled into a fearsome ambition for her daughters.

The display is, of course, a marvel of craft and psychological understanding, with its volume by Arthur Laurents (based upon the memoirs of that stylish stripper, wily one Rose Lee) and a glorious score through Jule Styne (music) and Stephen Sondheim (who supplied the lyrics that can deflect on a dime from the utterly colloquial to the blisteringly operatic). The musical's dab mix of vaudeville, burlesque and old-fashioned family drama is an ideal Broadway mingle too.

Add to this the air of an onstage "pit band" in the form of the Chicago consonance Orchestra (with Sondheim aficionado Paul Gemignani conducting the score with tremendous spe and clarity), and a supporting cast that featured far more Chicago actors than usual, and you've got the makings of a terrific production filled of deftly turned performances.

Absolutely crucial to the mix here, too, was the work of director Lonny Price who, in newly come years, has staged all five of the "Sondheim 75" plots at Ravinia, and who has clearly hon and mastered the format. Price devised a sort of hallucinatory, memory- infused framing device for the indicate that fit the story exactly He had Mama Rose's sum of two units young daughters -- Baby June and Louise -- literally walk disclosed of a giant theatrical bole in a haze of dreamy light and then spring into their timeworn children's act. The idea that this story is a agitation dream of a memoir was established instantly.

The same hallucinatory quality is reestablished in the great next to the first act soliloquy, "Rose's Turn" -- a raging emotional breakdown in the form of a galvanic, performance art-style aria delivered forward a bare stage. LuPone performed the anthem in a way that brought to mind the crazed rage of the failed comic in John Osborne's play, "The Entertainer." And when the real audience burst forthed in prolonged applause and a standing ovation forward Friday night, the actress' turn downwards and grotesque grin of appreciation glance ated Rose was responding to the thunderous answer of her imagined audience each bit as much as the real united It was perfect theater of the absurd. Beyond that, the performance left you wondering to what degree any actress could make it [i]or[/i] part of to the other this role alive on an eight-show-per-week Broadway schedule.

If Mama Rose is damaged usefuls -- and deeply damaging to her daughters' psyches, too -- she also is in many ways a woman ahead of her time, determined not just to survive on the other hand to prevail and be noticed. June eventually escapes from her mother's grip; Louise remains passionately loyal in her fashion, although eventually she declares a certain stretched independence born of her allow success.

As for Herbie, the concessions salesman and former agent who slavishly trails after Rose in the chance of the desired end that she eventually will stool down with him, the barrel-shaped veteran actor Jack Willis cause to deviates in such an easeful portrayal of a moderate man who finally reaches his limit that he appears not to be acting at all.

Chicago-bred actress Jessica Boever who has amassed many prestigious of recent origin York credits during the past decade, made a graceful, unaffected, lovely-to-look-at Louise -- the daughter who finds her calling and her particular gift for mixing self-mockery and glamor. And the trio of strippers who can't help if it were not that lighten the mood in the next to the first act burlesque scenes were a shout [i]or[/i] cry out [i]or[/i] yell in contempt with Debra Watassek all gossamer butterfly wings and irony, Jane Blass outrageously butch with her trumpet-playing gimmick, and Derin Altay just right as the dead blonde.

Chicago actors Michael Weber, Joe Dempsey Richard Henzel and Rengin Altay had several sharp employs in multiple character roles, with Ashton Smalling a real firecracker as Baby June and Leo Ash smooths easily likable as Tulsa, the ambitious chorus stripling

Choreographer Bonnie Walker, another Broadway veteran (who worked onward both Tyne Daly's Broadway edition of "Gypsy" and Bette Midler's television movie version), captured the charm of Jerome Robbins' original work. And admitting designer Tony Straiges kept the landscape to an effective minimum here, there was nothing pared back about Tracy Christensen's style of dresss or Kevin Adams' lighting. The reality is, when you have a musical as capable as this one -- and a star who can take command in this way formidably -- you don't ne anything more.

united final note: Stephen Sondheim, said to be suffering from a set to of food poisoning, did not make it to the present to view or a promised pre-concert chat forward Friday. You can only trustful longing he'll get a video version.