Ira Siff as Mme. Vera Galupe- Borszkh: Opera's Dame Edna. ousine on the way to New York's Lincoln Center. "My roles are always triple layered — man, woman, woman. The Daughter of the Regiment is light and full of fun." Siff ("My name probably was much longer when my grandparents arrived at Ellis Island from Russia," he said) was raised in a Reform home and had a bar mitzvah at a Brooklyn syna- gogue. He began voice lessons at age 19 while a college student at Cooper Union, a New York arts and architec- ture school, and performed as a tenor for 15 years, including singing opera parodies in cabarets. "I always regarded opera to be seri- ous and funny, compelling and hilari- ous," he explained, "so I took on a soprano voice in the 1980s and formed La Gran Scena Opera Co. di New York, which is a travesty group; we're gifted falsetto divas (similar to female impersonators), who spoof operas with great affection. "We've performed at opera houses all over the world and have become favorites of many opera stars." Siff took on the name of Mme. Galupe-Borszkh and even created a phony, but comical biography for her, including a fictitious husband who expired on their honeymoon. "Mme. Galupe-Borszkh is from the old school of singing actresses," Siff muses. "In fact, she may be the only one still registered at that school." The Daughter of the Regiment, per- formed in English, stars Canadian soprano Tracy Dahl as an orphan whose love for a peasant boy defies the French army regiment that adopted her. Of course, love conquers all at the end. ❑ The Daughter of the Regiment opens 8 p.m. Saturday, June 4, at the Detroit Opera House, 1526 Broadway, and continues at 2 p.m. Sunday, June 5; 7:30 p.m. Wednesday, June 8; 8 p.m. Friday-Saturday, June 10-11; and 2 p.m. Sunday, June 12. Tickets: $23-$114. Call (313) 237-SING or (248) 645-6666 or go to www.MichiganOpera.org. Homeward Angel and Our Town play- wright Thornton Wilder, Jerry Silberman himself Gene Wilder. renamed' Battling The Demon Hollywood, where he was the only Jewish student. And there, Wilder writes, he encountered constant dis- crimination and bruising physical assaults by fellow classmates, convinc- ing his parents that they had made a wrong decision. During his teenage years, as his mother's health problems lingered, Wilder began thinking of himself as a comedian, until he saw a riveting per- formance by Jewish actor Lee J. Cobb in Death of a Salesman in New York. The play was a major turning point in his life. After seeing Death of a Salesman, I had no more thoughts of being a Comedian — I wanted to be an actor," he recalls. And by pinching from the character Eugene Gant in Look "I always regarded opera to be serious and funny, compelling and hilarious. Wilder does not dovetail his autobiog- raphy with a high degree of Jewish context, which is somewhat disap- pointing, especially when he reveals a startling past obsession to pray for for- giveness called "The Demon." "The Demon was this horrible com- pulsion that I had at 18," Wilder recently explained in a public radio interview. "It was the first day of spring and I was at the University of Iowa, and I had this compulsion to pray. I didn't know about what, but I felt guilty about something. I felt this compulsion to pray, sometimes two, three, sometimes four hours at a time, 'After a while, I realized that this was nothing holy; I wasn't concerned with God. I didn't know what I was praying for. That's why I call it the Demon. It should have been called the devil, because it didn't have anything to do with God." It took more than seven years in therapy to rid himself of "The Demon," referring to the condition as a self-manifested conflict of guilty feel- ings about enjoying his own happiness while his mother was ill, he writes. Turning to his movies, Wilder believes the hands of fate were respon- sible for him being miscast in a play with actress Anne Bancroft, who introduced him to her then-boyfriend and future husband Mel Brooks. At the time, Brooks was working on a script, tentatively tided Springtime for Hitler, later re-titled The Producers. Cast as accountant Leo Bloom opposite Zero Mostel, Wilder would follow that success with more Brooks comedies, including Young Frankenstein and as the Waco Kid in Blazing Saddles. From Mel To Gilda Why Wilder skirts detailing any Jewish-rooted chemistry between him- self and Brooks, or about working with Mostel, Woody Allen and other cele- brated Jews in the entertainment indus- try, is one of the book's critical lapses. Only when mentioning that John Wayne originally signed to co-star in 1979's The Frisco Kid does Wilder evaluate work in an ethnic spotlight. The film about a naive Polish rabbi who is sent to America in 1850 to assume a pulpit in San Francisco and befriends a bank robber — played by a young, half-Jewish Harrison Ford who replaced Wayne — was not one of Wilder's bigger box office hits. Wilder's characterization of the rabbi notably emphasized his foremost objective to always protect his Torah, as the two encountered several misad- ventures. Call it Wilder's Fiddler on the Range, but he insists that his prefer- ence was for audiences to accept the film as a Western, rather than a Jewish movie. Again, keeping his Judaism closer to the vest, he stays mum about what the role meant to him. The actor doesn't dash expecta- tions, though, when describing his marriage to Gilda Radner and her increasing dependence on him while she battled cancer. It drove him crazy, and one is struck by Wilder's blunt honesty about dealing with her love and loss. She previously wrote in her 1989 New York Times bestseller Its Always Something "My moods swung from here to China, and I had a raging anger at my situation. I felt irritable and isolated. ... I can only imagine Gene's loneliness — a loneliness that increased through a sense of helpless- ness in the situation." At the very end of Kiss Me Like a Stranger, Wilder discloses that the book's tide was casually given to him by Radner three weeks before she died. "Maybe one day you can use it," she told him. It's just too bad that his attempt to document his life in writ- ing begs for more laughter and less guessing. ❑ JN 6/ 2 2005 73