David Sabella is an acclaimed voice teacher in addition to his career as a singer and actor, which includes the role of the original Mary Sunshine in the 1996 revival of Chicago and touring the world in the legendary La Gran Scena Opera Company. He is currently in residence at Pangea and, as part of that residency, he has written, directed, and performs Amanda Reckonwith in In Residential Care. Music director Mark Hartman’s sparkling arrangements were played to a fare-thee-well by guest pianist David Maiocco. With a dazzling wardrobe and a spectacularly scene-stealing wig, Amanda cuts a fine figure on stage as she explores her tentative theme for the evening—celebrating gay icons as part of the club’s Gay Pride celebration. The lack of originality in the concept is not as detrimental as it might be because it is only referenced here and there as the show progresses through a repertoire of operatic, Broadway, and Great American Songbook numbers.  

While the vocals are, with a few exceptions, fine, this lack of cohesion extends to the diva herself as created by Sabella with a patter assist from La Gran Scena’s Ira Siff. This sharing of duties might explain the dual versions of Amanda on display on Pangea’s stage. One is a ditzy, dotty, malapropism-spouting singer of a certain age who recalls Marion Lorne (or, for those to whom she is unfamiliar, Mrs. Howell on Gilligan’s Island); the other is a bitter, failing, acid-tongued diva skewering the trappings of show business in general and opera in particular.  For each of them, the laughs are there, and the musical talent is there, but the two never really blend. At times it’s like watching a competition to see which character will claim the title. 

“I Enjoy Being A Girl” (Richard Rodgers, Oscar Hammerstein II, from Flower Drum Song) is a perfect opener, and Amanda sings it wonderfully, but it is dragged down a bit by its pairing with Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way” (Stefani Germanotta, Paul Blair, Fernando Garibay, Jeppe Laursen) which I find awkward in the best of circumstances and especially here, no matter how on the money its sentiments might be. Celebrating her evolution (or devolution) from lyric soprano to “spento soprano” (which in Amanda’s lexicon means “half a soprano”), she sings “O Mio Babbino Caro” (Giacomo Schicchi, from Gianni Schicchi) during which she keeps the grand tradition of La Gran Scena alive in her hilarious “lecture” about the piece. Turning her withering sights on jazz, she next sings “Blue Skies” (Irving Berlin) complete with a foray into scat which she compares to “speaking in tongues without Jesus.”  

“To Keep My Love Alive” (Richard Rogers, Lorenz Hart, from A Connecticut Yankee) is always a crowd-pleaser but too much of the ditzy side shows up for it to be as subtle and successful as it could have been.  The shaky forward motion of the show comes to a standstill with Amanda’s guest star, Ben Boecker, brought on with a cringe-worthy “interview” to cover a costume change; left alone he is ill-prepared to sell the song he chose to sing (from an upcoming musical he has written) and unable to claim the stage as his own. Amanda returns, newly gowned, with “Le Jazz Hot” (Henry Mancini, Lesley Bricusse, from Victor/Victoria) which has little to offer either of Amanda’s incarnations, and becomes a generic drag number sung well enough but with little consequence. With a nod to the legendary Nancy Lamott, Amanda and Maiocco explore Chris Marlowe’s arrangement of “How Deep is the Ocean” (Irving Berlin) underscored with Ravel’s “Une Barque sur L’Océan” and while a bit overwrought it is a lovely performance but, as with so many of the serious moments in the show, it is a musical triumph for Sabella, not for his character.  Whatever (or whichever) character has been established disappears into the admittedly solid vocals. 

Perhaps in a nod to Amanda, or to Pride, Boecker then returns in drag—awful, frat-house level drag—as Starr Simon (the supposed daughter of Paul Simon and Carrie Fisher) to even less impact than his first appearance.  He does succeed in filling the time needed for his hostess to don a new, leather accented costume to perform “Chacun à son goût” (Johann Strauss, Jr., English lyrics by Ruth & Thomas Martin, and additional lyrics by Sabella, from Die Fledermaus) filled with obvious schtick involving whips and riding crops but musically much ado about little. Perhaps if I were more familiar with the original, I might get more out of it, but I would love to be enlightened rather than just moderately entertained. 

In a kimono to cover her S&M costuming, a self-contained duet on “A Boy Like That”/”I Have a Love” (Leonard Bernstein, Stephen Sondheim, from West Side Story) is meant to be a tour de force as she sings both parts and might well have been but neither ditzy nor bitter Amanda is present to make the number really fly so it becomes frantic rather than hilarious;  it ends with a somber, serious invocation of “I Have a Love” that again shows off Sabella’s undeniable talent but leaves Amanda behind. In a show meant to be as madcap as it is musical, I think it is a misstep that the remaining two songs are serious. “The Man That Got Away” (Harold Arlen, Ira Gershwin, from A Star is Born) is, on its own, a powerful musical highpoint of the show, but once again for Sabella the singer, not for Amanda the character. The best is saved for last, with a warm and touching version of “Laughing Matters” (Dick Gallagher, Mark Waldrop, from When Pigs Fly) undercut a bit by introductory patter that says exactly what the song is about to tell us.  

I hope that with time the two sides of Amanda Reckonwith reconcile and a fully realized, satisfying character emerges as an avatar for the obvious musical and comedic talents of her creator.  But more detailed work is needed. 

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Presented and seen at Pangea, 178 Second Ave., NYC, June 17; residency continues July 15, Aug. 19, Sept. 16, Oct. 21, Nov. 18, and Dec. 16, 2023.