Chitty and Children to the Rescue!

Kennedy Schmennedy. Who needs the Kennedy Center when we have Red Hawk Elementary School?

Donald Trump has kidnapped Washington’s Kennedy Center entirely, naming himself Chairman and installing such artistic luminaries as Lee Greenwood and Laura Ingraham as Trustees. Performances from Kid Rock and Ted Nugent can’t be far behind.

He may even traipse his birthday military parade through the center with a drill team of Proud Boys twirling AR-15s and Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt leading a pom-pom troop wearing crucifix sweaters. Trump will head the parade in the popemobile, driven by Pete Hegseth, fueled by a few mimosas. Such patriotic fun!

But don’t despair! The arts are alive and well, including subversive theater.

This weekend, May 2nd and 3rd, the 4th and 5th graders from Red Hawk mounted a stirring performance of Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang. Chitty, for short, is based on a book by Ian Flemng - yes, the James Bond guy - later adapted for stage and screen.

The performances were superb, although full disclosure that my grandson played Jeremy on Friday night may indicate a teeny-tiny bias. Herding several score of elementary school kids is no mean feat, and the lioness’s share of credit goes to music teacher Amy Abbott, who manages this feat every year, aided by a great crew of assistants and volunteers.

What these kids may lack in polish, they more than compensate for in enthusiasm and charm. Kennedy Center aside, I’d rather attend a children’s performance than a Broadway show any day of the week.

These kids worked all semester, rising before dawn for 7:30 rehearsals at least three days a week. It paid off. There were no botched lines or choreographic bobbles. The singing was brilliant, although not intonational perfection. The melody was always nearby and usually rediscovered. Delightfully costumed, mic’d-up and made-up, the roles were not indicated, they were inhabited - to use a bit of theater vernacular.

It is at some peril that I highlight any specific performers, as the lead roles were all played with great aplomb and confidence, especially since both nights played to a full house of 600 or so. How many of us could perform flawlessly for 600?

Peril be damned, the Baron and Baroness were hilarious and just over the top enough on both nights. (Different casts for different nights, with a few double-ups.) The pas de deux of evil spies mostly skulked on the stage perimeter, but hammed it up to a “T.” They could have been a skit to themselves.

The production was chock full of complex ensemble pieces, imaginative props and clever gags. Not a beat was missed, although, like the melodies, a few were dropped and picked up with a flourish.

Among my favorite moments were the frequent times an ensemble member would search the audience for family or friends in the midst of a song or dance number. You won’t see that on Broadway!

Why subversive theater?

Well, the evil empire in Chitty is Vulgaria. What name could better capture the spirit of the current administration, with its Vulgarian-in-Chief?

Vulgaria’s Baron is a fool. The Baroness hates children, so the regime will not tolerate children, especially those who arrive from distant places. Sound familiar? Taken in this light, the character called Child Catcher hauling off children in a cage was eerie.

Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang itself was vaguely reminiscent of a Cybertruck, what with its metal panels falling off.

I can imagine someone younger than I writing and staging a parody of the Trump administration based on Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang. The Kennedy Center Board and its boundlessly ignorant Chairman would probably attend and completely miss the point. Trump would think he was Truly Scrumptious and his buddy Elon would see it as a glamorous Tesla ad.

But in the end, it was the children saving the day, overwhelming the bumbling fools of Vulgaria and flying home in Chitty-Chitty. Here, of course, the Cybertruck comparison fades, as no self-respecting never-Vulgarian would entrust children to a Cybertruck.

And isn’t that our great hope? That children will save the day?

On these two nights such hope seemed possible, thanks to Amy Abbott and the Red Hawk School community.