The new musical Triangle is not an equilateral triangle, a shape with angles and sides of equal dimensions. But the creators of this intriguing project work earnestly, and at times effectively, to get its proportions aligned.
It's not an easy task, considering a time-traveling plot across 100 years that directly invokes the infamous Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire of 1911, more obliquely the 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Center, forbidden cross-religious love in the early 20th century, a fledging gay romance in the 21st century, and a possible ghost from the past who can't be stopped from breaking Sabbath with tragic results.
Triangle was the breakout success of TheatreWorks' 2012 New Works Festival, and is now opening the theater's 2015-16 season at the Lucie Stern Theatre in Palo Alto. It's a simple but stylish production, smoothly moving in director Meredith McDonough's staging amongst many locales on Daniel Zimmerman's adaptive set. And the performers, all of strong vocal skills, communicate the heart of the story through composer Curtis Moore's and lyricist Thomas Mizer's score, which alternates between stand-alone songs and connective recitative.
The appealing melodies have light-rock underpinnings (Next to Normal comes to mind) but too often fall prey to repeated progressions of chords, an easy way to suggest memorability but one that only briefly lingers. While some of the lyrics are built out of generic platitudes, there is also an inviting mix of heart and ingenuity. The seven-piece orchestra is sharply guided by Musical Director James Sampliner.
Where the proceedings fall most out of proportion is in Mizer, Moore, and Joshua Scher's script that forces a parallel between the events of 1911 and those of 2011. In the contemporary scenes, a medical student working in the same Manhattan building where the fire took place a century before has intimacy issues. Brian pushes away an affable female colleague who tries to encourage a relationship between him and a free-spirited young man fascinated with the Triangle fire. The earlier scenes take place in the Triangle garment factory and at the home of a young Jewish immigrant who works there until Sarah discovers that her take-it-or-leave-it schedule requires working on Saturdays. She finds an ally in a young Italian foreman who tries to help her with her Sabbath dilemma, and the inklings of a problematic romance begin to stir.
Brian, the med student, believes he is seeing visions of Sarah, and realizing she is the unidentified figure in the lore of the fire's most tragically romantic story, tries to convince her not to go to work on Saturday, March 25, 1911. History can't be altered, but it can affect the present, and Brian is loosened up enough to cope with having a suitor. There is refreshing humor in both recent and past stories, but the notion that doomed Sarah has somehow presented herself to Brian to loosen him up enough to go on a first date is off-kilter.
Brian is not a very interesting character, and despite a strong voice, Ross Lekites doesn't do much to change that impression. Considerably more successful are the other cast members, each of whom play characters in both time periods. Megan McGinnis is mostly seen as conflicted Sarah, a good thing, because her performance is both sweet and savvy. Zachary Prince nicely shuttles between Sarah and Brian's would-be swains of very different temperaments. Sharon Rietkerk, Rolf Saxon, and Laura D'Andre are the others who do double (and triple) duty with success.
The relationship between two men in the modern scenes is a budding love story that happens to be gay rather than a gay love story. That the participants are of the same gender attracts no special reactions, another sign of spreading assimilation. There is some intimation of a shared sensibility with Sarah's break from Jewish traditions, but the stakes turn out to be jarringly different. That's where the show becomes scalene, better known as an irregular triangle.
Triangle will run at Lucie Stern Theatre through Aug. 2. Tickets are $19-$74. Call (650) 463-1960 or go to theatreworks.org.