You walk into the Old Town Theatre to see “Bed and Sofa.” You immediately see Andrew Hull’s stunning set, and it’s all blacks, whites and grays, like a still from a silent film rendered in 3-D.

And that’s exactly as it should be.

Cygnet Theatre’s new offering, a revival of the company’s 2004 hit at its Rolando venue, is the paradoxical musical version of a classic Russian silent movie. And this remounting, with a terrific fresh cast of three and the superior facilities at Old Town, tops the original, which won several San Diego Theatre Critics Circle awards. One went to Sean Murray for his direction, an undertaking he repeats wonderfully.

The musical is based on a 1927 film by Abram Room, ostensibly about a love triangle but also an allegory about Russia in the early years of the Soviet regime. Composer Polly Pen added operatic melodies, and Laurence Klavan provided the libretto and lyrics, adapted from the movie’s title cards.

Miller (left), Colleen and Lance Smith

Photo by Daren Scott

In the deceptively simple story, domineering husband Kolya and wife Ludmilla occupy a small Moscow apartment. Then Kolya runs into a World War I buddy, Volodya, who has come to find work but can’t get a job without having a local address. Because there is a severe housing shortage, Kolya invites Volodya to stay at his place, where his pal can sleep on the sofa.

Kolya gets called for a three-week construction project outside of Moscow, leaving his wife and friend alone — with predictable results. When Kolya returns and discovers the affair, he storms out. But when he’s unable to find shelter, Ludmilla and her lover welcome him back, this time with him on the sofa.

The threesome changes shape, however, when the jealousy between the men gives way to bonding, and Ludmilla eventually finds herself burdened with two demanding males and no companionship. Then she learns she’s with child…

Jordan Miller (Volodya) and Lance Arthur Smith sing and act their roles excellently, but they’re almost overshadowed in both departments by Colleen Kollar Smith, whose coloratura vocals and unerring expressions precisely capture Ludmilla’s highs and lows. All three voices, singly and blending, enhance the beauty of Pen’s music. Husband and wife Smith are familiar to local theatergoers from their many Lamb’s Players performances, and they, with Miller, truly shine here.

That’s also a literal description, because their whiteface makeup gleams when spotlighted in Eric Lotze’s marvelous lighting design. Lotze appears to have used every technique available at the theater to re-create the silent film look. There are following spots, scenes lit from below and, particularly, the closing-iris shot so familiar from movies of that era.

Throughout, the visuals are splendid. Corey Johnston’s costumes, Peter Herman’s wig and hair design and Bonnie L. Durban’s prop design (with even a black and gray ukulele) all stay true to the color scheme, differing only in shades of gray. Hull’s eye-filling set, based on Murray’s design for the Rolando stage, showcases the crowded apartment, rimmed by a walkway and props appropriate to the outside scenes.

Set, lighting and sound designs combine especially effectively when the dialog invokes Josef Stalin. The stage darkens, and an overhead cloud image suddenly becomes the face of the dictator, accompanied by thunderclaps — just one element of Sam Lerner’s evocative sound planning.

The fine (unseen and recorded) musicians, directed by G. Scott Lacy, comprise cellist Diana Elledge, keyboardist Don LeMaster and violinist Wendy Hoover.

A note of nostalgia: For the voice of the unseen narrator, this production uses the recording from the Rolando version. It’s done by one of our late stage luminaries, the much-lamented Priscilla Allen.

Cast and credits