Take my advice: stop reading this and make reservations to see The Book Of Liz before the current run ends (05/08/2010). Click here to go to the The Albright Theatre web site ticket information page. Call the number shown and make the reservation. I'll wait for you.
You're back? Made the reservation? Good. You're in for a treat. Truly. I'm not shilling for the theatre. I just don't want you to pass on the opportunity to see a rarely done play that's done extremely well. This 90-minutes of fun is worth seeing. You have two more weeks.
Four actors play 15 different characters in this wry, sarcastic and often scathing look at our undaunted devotion to all things Americana, along with blind faith, 12-step programs and the overabundance of clichéd platitudes that have become the fundamental philosophies of modern life. Written by The Talent Family (David and Amy Sedaris), the dialog is crisp, sharp and biting, the characters are marvelously drawn and the storyline is wonderfully twisted.
If you really want plot details, click here and read a synopsis on a web site of a west coat theatre group that did the show a few years ago. As I've mentioned before, it's never a matter of what the show is about, it's a matter of how it is about it.
Heidi Swarthout plays the titular character Liz. Actually, she's Sister Elizabeth Donderstock of a religious sect known as the Squeamish, who feels she's unappreciated by the group, even though she did create the recipe for the cheese balls that are the big income-producers for their tourist trade. Heidi portrays doe-eyed innocence and fish out of water confusion with great skill. Her ability to let us see Liz quickly run the gamut from confounded to realization to knowledge gives depth to our understanding of the journey she is on. Ok, it's a really strange journey, but she keeps us with her along the way.
She is supported by three of the best character actors I've seen in local theatre. Their ability to turn off one personality and turn on another within seconds is amazing. This is an ensemble piece, episodically structured, and requires deft timing and acting to compliment the quick sketch comedy feel of the show. Because it's a series of rapid scenes, the actors need to be able to jump in and out of different characters, preferably without relying on the tired "wacky voice" method. If done well, the actors will adopt vocal rhythms and physicality specific to each character, and exaggerate them to develop real and full personalities during the scant moments they have on stage. This ensemble accomplishes that from start to finish.
Tim Lieske paints his main character, Brother Nathaniel Brightbee, with the superficial charisma and charm one associates with most religious zealots. His handling of his other characters displays a colorful palette of talent.
The leader of the Squeamish is Reverend Tollhouse, played by John Dryden. He presents sanctimony and religious ambiguity with assuredness and his ability to move from one character to another is nimble and agile. He doesn't short-change any of his roles, fleshing out each with wonderful human traits.
Maureen Morley plays Sister Constance Butterworth and a slew of other characters, including Oxana, the Cockney-accented Ukranian. Each of her persona are deep and spot on. Watch her face, and you can see her playing each moment with intensity. A slight raised brow, or a hinted smile, speak volumes and give her characters a richness one always hopes to find. She is simply a joy to watch.
All are to commended for their physical spryness also. Quick changes off stage seem effortless, with one actor leaving stage left, and then magically appearing stage right as another character. There were a couple of scene changes that felt long, but I'll put that down to opening night glitches. Each actor was right on with cues, the pacing was exciting, and lines came out in seeming effortlessness. Only one suggestion: the lighting in the scenes played on the floor off in front of the stage seemed to come from the instruments kitty-corner to the action and only lit people from one side, making them look flat. If there's room on the dimmers, they might want to consider adding another instrument or two to fill in the wash.
Kudos to director Lori Holm for presenting this strange and wonderful piece, and for never letting it get out of hand (it could easily go that way). She kept the actors on task to communicate this delicious example of sardonic writing and elicited great performances from this very talented group of actors. And, kudos to Albright Theatre for presenting this little-known comic gem.
Price: $13
Worth: $18 - $20
Run time: 1 hour 30 minutes with intermission
Friday, April 30, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Review: "Don't Drink The Water" GreenMan Theatre Troupe - Elmhurst, IL 4/18/10
I've been slow getting this review posted. I saw this show on Sunday 4/18 of their opening weekend, and have sat on the review because I just didn't know how to approach it without sounding overly harsh. But there's no avoiding the fact that it is not a good production and not worth the price of admission. Please realize that this is just my opinion, and I can only report what I felt and why I think I felt that way.
Imaging going to a community theatre production of Oklahoma, and learning that the director has decided to do it as kabuki theatre. Or Who’s Afraid Of Virginia Woolf presented as a Punch and Judy show (now that I think about it, the latter could actually work and I call dibs on the concept). It’s a case of a square peg going into a round hole. The director can either recognize it’s a bad fit and scrap the idea, or tries to rectify it with subtle creative dexterity. Ofttimes though, there is no rectification, and the synthesis is accomplished with the destructive force of a big-ass hammer. Unfortunately, that is the case with GreenMan Theatre Troupe’s current production of Don’t Drink The Water.
Written in 1966 by Woody Allen, Don’t Drink The Water tells the story of an American family seeking sanctuary in the US embassy of the small eastern European communist country. They are typical Americans tourists, the embassy personnel are bumbling characters, and the bad guys are stereotypic communists with accents. It's more concerned with the clash of culture rather than the clash of political ideologies. For a more complete synopsis (and spoilers), go here.
In the director's note, Benjamin Vargas states, "I have chosen to direct this comedy as a farce, giving appropriate nods to the sights and sounds of 1963 American culture." In my head, I was asking, "Why would he take a piece of witty, erudite verbal comedy and force it into a structure for which it's not intended? Has he no faith in the author or the show as it is?" Actually, in my notes I wrote, "Farce?? WTF?"
Usually I go through each actor's performance, but I can't blame them for what I saw, so I'll forgo that. They had energy and commitment, but not in a pleasant way, and totally misdirected. I'm throwing this onto the director, who didn't trust the script and felt he needed to energize it in his own fashion.
So, what you get are actors breaking the 4th wall and mugging to the audience (there are only so many times you can watch someone look out with the "OH" expression during a chase scene), incessant pratfalls to emphasize the concept of a bumbling embassy worker (which means "inept" rather than gravity-challenged), a chef who does nothing but run around like a high-pitched screaming nancy (I think my ears bled), a head of the foreign country's KGB-like police force who stomps around with his arms swinging in an exaggerated manner through the whole show, and an ugly American acting like the love child of Ralph Kramden and Al Bundy (in my notes I wrote Ted Bundy). This is the Woody Allen character, as written by Woody Allen. In the rhythm of a Woody Allen stand-up routine. Having it played as a loud American without that patter eliminates the self-effacing neurotic sarcasm written into the dialog. There are many more instances like this throughout the show.
When you do a period piece (1963), you need to remain true to it from start to finish and know early 60s and late 60s were significantly different. The director mentions, "...appropriate nods to the sights and sounds of 1963 American culture." Really? I heard White Rabbit playing in the background, which wasn't written until 1965, and made popular by Jefferson Airplane in 1967. The presidential portraits in the embassy vanished during act break and were replaced by a picture of Phil Silvers and a drawing of Alfred E Newman. They were askew in the frame, which made it extra funny, I guess. There was the embassy worker with long hair (never would have happened in 1963) and the other one with the beard (also would not have happened in 1963). Again, the list of bad and inconsistent choices by the director is lengthy. I won't get into the pacing issues, the slow sound cues, the muddied dialects, or the lighting problems (too many dark spaces on stage). I think it really comes down to the the details. By trying to make the show more than it is, he lost sight of what he had.
Is it worth the price of admission? No...even in 1963 dollars.
Paid: $15
Worth: $3
Runtime: 1 hour, 56 minutes with intermission
For times and ticket information, visit the GreenMan web site.
Imaging going to a community theatre production of Oklahoma, and learning that the director has decided to do it as kabuki theatre. Or Who’s Afraid Of Virginia Woolf presented as a Punch and Judy show (now that I think about it, the latter could actually work and I call dibs on the concept). It’s a case of a square peg going into a round hole. The director can either recognize it’s a bad fit and scrap the idea, or tries to rectify it with subtle creative dexterity. Ofttimes though, there is no rectification, and the synthesis is accomplished with the destructive force of a big-ass hammer. Unfortunately, that is the case with GreenMan Theatre Troupe’s current production of Don’t Drink The Water.
Written in 1966 by Woody Allen, Don’t Drink The Water tells the story of an American family seeking sanctuary in the US embassy of the small eastern European communist country. They are typical Americans tourists, the embassy personnel are bumbling characters, and the bad guys are stereotypic communists with accents. It's more concerned with the clash of culture rather than the clash of political ideologies. For a more complete synopsis (and spoilers), go here.
In the director's note, Benjamin Vargas states, "I have chosen to direct this comedy as a farce, giving appropriate nods to the sights and sounds of 1963 American culture." In my head, I was asking, "Why would he take a piece of witty, erudite verbal comedy and force it into a structure for which it's not intended? Has he no faith in the author or the show as it is?" Actually, in my notes I wrote, "Farce?? WTF?"
Usually I go through each actor's performance, but I can't blame them for what I saw, so I'll forgo that. They had energy and commitment, but not in a pleasant way, and totally misdirected. I'm throwing this onto the director, who didn't trust the script and felt he needed to energize it in his own fashion.
So, what you get are actors breaking the 4th wall and mugging to the audience (there are only so many times you can watch someone look out with the "OH" expression during a chase scene), incessant pratfalls to emphasize the concept of a bumbling embassy worker (which means "inept" rather than gravity-challenged), a chef who does nothing but run around like a high-pitched screaming nancy (I think my ears bled), a head of the foreign country's KGB-like police force who stomps around with his arms swinging in an exaggerated manner through the whole show, and an ugly American acting like the love child of Ralph Kramden and Al Bundy (in my notes I wrote Ted Bundy). This is the Woody Allen character, as written by Woody Allen. In the rhythm of a Woody Allen stand-up routine. Having it played as a loud American without that patter eliminates the self-effacing neurotic sarcasm written into the dialog. There are many more instances like this throughout the show.
When you do a period piece (1963), you need to remain true to it from start to finish and know early 60s and late 60s were significantly different. The director mentions, "...appropriate nods to the sights and sounds of 1963 American culture." Really? I heard White Rabbit playing in the background, which wasn't written until 1965, and made popular by Jefferson Airplane in 1967. The presidential portraits in the embassy vanished during act break and were replaced by a picture of Phil Silvers and a drawing of Alfred E Newman. They were askew in the frame, which made it extra funny, I guess. There was the embassy worker with long hair (never would have happened in 1963) and the other one with the beard (also would not have happened in 1963). Again, the list of bad and inconsistent choices by the director is lengthy. I won't get into the pacing issues, the slow sound cues, the muddied dialects, or the lighting problems (too many dark spaces on stage). I think it really comes down to the the details. By trying to make the show more than it is, he lost sight of what he had.
Is it worth the price of admission? No...even in 1963 dollars.
Paid: $15
Worth: $3
Runtime: 1 hour, 56 minutes with intermission
For times and ticket information, visit the GreenMan web site.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Review: "Don't Dress For Dinner" The Riverfront Playhouse Aurora, IL 4/16/10
There is a school of thought that advocates the following: people doing community theatre are doing it just for fun; therefore, they should be absolved from negative criticism. And I would accept that, if the show were on a make-shift stage, in someone's backyard, with a bed sheet strung along a clothesline acting as a curtain and they were doing it for mom and dad. But the community theatres are asking the audience to hand over hard-earned cash to watch them have fun. Or, as is sometimes the case, watch them not invest themselves personally into the show that people are paying to see. And when the actors don’t display the joy of performance or necessary energy to let the paying audience also have fun, the audience feels let down, and may not return. Where is the accountability if there is no criticism?
I believe that if you ask people to pay to see your fun, then you have a responsibility to do everything in your power, as actor, director and producer, to engage the patrons. And if you're not doing it, someone should say so. Yes, the theatres should be able to recoup the cost of giving the actors a playground on which to play. But it takes the same amount of money to put on a good show as a bad one, so why not attempt to be stellar?
When actors display that joy of performance, have explosive energy that let's you know they care and are there to entertain, it is magic. When directors take hold of the show and guide the actors to fine performances, the audience leaves feeling satisfied. Such is the case with The Riverfront Playhouse production of Don’t Dress For Dinner.
Perfect show? Nope. Definitely has issues. But the overall production sparkled with vitality and joy and there was a palpable energy exchange between audience and actors. The actors related to one another, seemed to all be in the same show and played the moments with skill. There was also a performance that stood out and stole the show.
The play was written by the late French playwright Marc Camoletti and adapted to English by Robin Hawdon. Here's the synopsis that appears on the theatre's web site: Under the direction of Gene Scheffler and Pam Rowe, the play tells the story of frantic cover-ups and comedic discoveries when a cheating husband is almost caught by his cheating wife... It goes on, but let's sum it up by saying it's a French farce, and has the usual farcical elements of mistaken identities, marital infidelities and mind-boggling plot twists. Mix in a well-written and witty script and you have a delightful evening of theatre.
Thom Dickens plays Bernard, the ever-charming philandering husband. He paints him with a fine coating of aplomb. You can see his Bernard thinking as he improvises his way around seemingly unsurmountable setbacks in his plans for a tryst. His delivery is droll and deadpan, and his face speaks tomes. There were a few times when I could see the actor thinking, rather than his character, as he searched for his lines. But, it was opening night, it wasn't a big distraction and his comic timing was wonderful. Overall, he was fun to watch.
Marla Holman portrays his wife Jacqueline. I'm not sure why, but I felt a bit distanced from her performance. It's possible it lacked freshness. I think she was working a little too hard at creating a full character, which held her back from actualizing one. She had energy, but I felt it would have been better directed at making her performance more natural. Still, she kept me involved in the show.
Jim Oberg is Bernard's friend Robert, who is dragged unwittingly into the fray. There are many moments when he shines, especially as he tries to keep up and understand all the twisted lunacy going on around him. And when he attempts to add his own twist to the story of the evening, the results are hysterical. Like Dickens, Oberg infuses the character with relentless audacity and charm. He has great comic instincts.
Jill Kustush plays Bernard’s mistress, the model/actress Suzanne. This character, as written, is one note. Kustush tries hard to flesh her out. It's a noble effort, but fell flat, because things felt a bit forced. Not so with Suzette’s menacing husband George, who is played by Jonathan Witt. Again, it's another one-dimensional character, but Witt plays the right note.
The real highlight for me was Connie Pfister as the French cook Suzette. Her comic timing is impeccable. Her commitment to the character was expressed in a nuanced portrayal that was a joy to watch. I marveled at how she morphed in front of my eyes from an innocent by-stander dragged into the events of the evening to a major force that drove the action. Her performance was exciting, her transformation was subtle and her comic panache grabbed my attention and wouldn't let go. Her explanation of the "game" at the end of Act 2 was an inspired moment.
Farces need to be done with precision and frenetic energy, and for the most part, that's what I witnessed. There were small moments, however, when the show ran out of steam, and felt as if it was chugging up the hill hoping to crest and glide into the next set of laughs. There were also moments where the dialog needed to snap with precision but fell short of hitting that stride. Still, directors Gene Scheffler and Pam Rowe are to be commended for displaying a deft understanding of farce, and for their ability to transfer that onto the stage. Again, not a perfect show, but a wonderful night of laughter.
So, is it worth the price of admission? Yes, I think it is.
For ticket information and times, go to the RIverfront Playhouse web site.
Paid: $15
Worth: $12 plus a $3 tip for Connie Pfister
Run time: 2 hours, 10 minutes, with intermission.
I believe that if you ask people to pay to see your fun, then you have a responsibility to do everything in your power, as actor, director and producer, to engage the patrons. And if you're not doing it, someone should say so. Yes, the theatres should be able to recoup the cost of giving the actors a playground on which to play. But it takes the same amount of money to put on a good show as a bad one, so why not attempt to be stellar?
When actors display that joy of performance, have explosive energy that let's you know they care and are there to entertain, it is magic. When directors take hold of the show and guide the actors to fine performances, the audience leaves feeling satisfied. Such is the case with The Riverfront Playhouse production of Don’t Dress For Dinner.
Perfect show? Nope. Definitely has issues. But the overall production sparkled with vitality and joy and there was a palpable energy exchange between audience and actors. The actors related to one another, seemed to all be in the same show and played the moments with skill. There was also a performance that stood out and stole the show.
The play was written by the late French playwright Marc Camoletti and adapted to English by Robin Hawdon. Here's the synopsis that appears on the theatre's web site: Under the direction of Gene Scheffler and Pam Rowe, the play tells the story of frantic cover-ups and comedic discoveries when a cheating husband is almost caught by his cheating wife... It goes on, but let's sum it up by saying it's a French farce, and has the usual farcical elements of mistaken identities, marital infidelities and mind-boggling plot twists. Mix in a well-written and witty script and you have a delightful evening of theatre.
Thom Dickens plays Bernard, the ever-charming philandering husband. He paints him with a fine coating of aplomb. You can see his Bernard thinking as he improvises his way around seemingly unsurmountable setbacks in his plans for a tryst. His delivery is droll and deadpan, and his face speaks tomes. There were a few times when I could see the actor thinking, rather than his character, as he searched for his lines. But, it was opening night, it wasn't a big distraction and his comic timing was wonderful. Overall, he was fun to watch.
Marla Holman portrays his wife Jacqueline. I'm not sure why, but I felt a bit distanced from her performance. It's possible it lacked freshness. I think she was working a little too hard at creating a full character, which held her back from actualizing one. She had energy, but I felt it would have been better directed at making her performance more natural. Still, she kept me involved in the show.
Jim Oberg is Bernard's friend Robert, who is dragged unwittingly into the fray. There are many moments when he shines, especially as he tries to keep up and understand all the twisted lunacy going on around him. And when he attempts to add his own twist to the story of the evening, the results are hysterical. Like Dickens, Oberg infuses the character with relentless audacity and charm. He has great comic instincts.
Jill Kustush plays Bernard’s mistress, the model/actress Suzanne. This character, as written, is one note. Kustush tries hard to flesh her out. It's a noble effort, but fell flat, because things felt a bit forced. Not so with Suzette’s menacing husband George, who is played by Jonathan Witt. Again, it's another one-dimensional character, but Witt plays the right note.
The real highlight for me was Connie Pfister as the French cook Suzette. Her comic timing is impeccable. Her commitment to the character was expressed in a nuanced portrayal that was a joy to watch. I marveled at how she morphed in front of my eyes from an innocent by-stander dragged into the events of the evening to a major force that drove the action. Her performance was exciting, her transformation was subtle and her comic panache grabbed my attention and wouldn't let go. Her explanation of the "game" at the end of Act 2 was an inspired moment.
Farces need to be done with precision and frenetic energy, and for the most part, that's what I witnessed. There were small moments, however, when the show ran out of steam, and felt as if it was chugging up the hill hoping to crest and glide into the next set of laughs. There were also moments where the dialog needed to snap with precision but fell short of hitting that stride. Still, directors Gene Scheffler and Pam Rowe are to be commended for displaying a deft understanding of farce, and for their ability to transfer that onto the stage. Again, not a perfect show, but a wonderful night of laughter.
So, is it worth the price of admission? Yes, I think it is.
For ticket information and times, go to the RIverfront Playhouse web site.
Paid: $15
Worth: $12 plus a $3 tip for Connie Pfister
Run time: 2 hours, 10 minutes, with intermission.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Continuing education...
When I decided to review shows, I knew I would experience some backlash. What I didn't anticipate was just how explosive it would become. It's just my opinion, expressed in my own style. Turning into the fracas it became made it appear I wielded more power than I have or deserve. Trust me...there is no vendetta or hidden agenda. I realize in some eyes, I am a pariah - that I attempted to slaughter the sacred cow. Maybe it's the sacred cash cow. Whatever you think, I would like local theatre to succeed, so I will continue to push for something better than what I'm getting when its value is not on par with what I'm being asked to pay.
The comments you see on this blog are the ones I received via the blog. I did not, nor will I censor anyone's opinion. Condemn me, chastise me, think of me as someone who eats children. Agree or disagree. You're entitled to your opinion. Why not see "To Gillian..." and judge my analysis of the show. If you agree, then our sensibilities match and you can join me on this journey. If not, then we will agree to disagree, and life goes on. It's that simple.
I posit that hiding behind anonymity is another issue and speaks to a whole set of issues about petty vindictiveness and fear of retribution. But hey...when's the last time there has been this much excitement about what's happening ON stage vs. the bedroom antics OFF stage at any theatre?
There were 20 comments, and I thank all 20 for participating. I further thank those who put their names to their comments or act of contrition. And for those who offered sage advice, I am very grateful. There are a great deal more comments that were made via e-mail...all positive. I was shocked by how much they agreed with my assessment of the show. I am surprised that a number of professional actors have written to me, asking me to expand my scope and also consider reviewing professional theatre. Since the email comments were not sent via the blog, they are not for public display.
This is a learning process for me. It's my first review. I want to continue doing this, so as an author, I need to develop better communication skills so that the analysis is seen for what it is: honest criticism. I admit that I got carried away with my own cleverness. I have concluded that I was writing more for myself and the few who love heavy sarcasm and acerbic wit. It was a performance on paper. It's my conceit, and I'm pretty good at it. People who know me thought I was being gentle compared to what they've heard me say. But as a reviewer, I need to seek a better tone that opens up dialog and is constructive.
I stand behind my thoughts on the show. The poor writing and structure of the piece presents an almost impossible obstacle for the actors to overcome. Perhaps that contributed to the discomfort I felt from them that never allowed me to get involved. The directing was weak, the pace is lethargic and we have learned that it was not Marc's first choice. I'm surprised it was chosen for the season. Maybe the selection committee was jonesing for chutzpah. (See, I can't help myself sometimes)
So, while I still maintain that my analysis of the show is valid, I also realize that the tone was off-putting, which led to vitriolic reactions to, rather than consideration of, the merit of the critique. My sincere apologies to cast members who felt it was a personal attack. It was not intended as such. And apologies for not getting Jeni's name right.
Next week, I'll be posting reviews of Riverfront's "Don't Dress For Dinner" and Greenman's "Don't Drink The Water." Call them and warn them...(damn, it's my evil twin at the keyboard again).
The comments you see on this blog are the ones I received via the blog. I did not, nor will I censor anyone's opinion. Condemn me, chastise me, think of me as someone who eats children. Agree or disagree. You're entitled to your opinion. Why not see "To Gillian..." and judge my analysis of the show. If you agree, then our sensibilities match and you can join me on this journey. If not, then we will agree to disagree, and life goes on. It's that simple.
I posit that hiding behind anonymity is another issue and speaks to a whole set of issues about petty vindictiveness and fear of retribution. But hey...when's the last time there has been this much excitement about what's happening ON stage vs. the bedroom antics OFF stage at any theatre?
There were 20 comments, and I thank all 20 for participating. I further thank those who put their names to their comments or act of contrition. And for those who offered sage advice, I am very grateful. There are a great deal more comments that were made via e-mail...all positive. I was shocked by how much they agreed with my assessment of the show. I am surprised that a number of professional actors have written to me, asking me to expand my scope and also consider reviewing professional theatre. Since the email comments were not sent via the blog, they are not for public display.
This is a learning process for me. It's my first review. I want to continue doing this, so as an author, I need to develop better communication skills so that the analysis is seen for what it is: honest criticism. I admit that I got carried away with my own cleverness. I have concluded that I was writing more for myself and the few who love heavy sarcasm and acerbic wit. It was a performance on paper. It's my conceit, and I'm pretty good at it. People who know me thought I was being gentle compared to what they've heard me say. But as a reviewer, I need to seek a better tone that opens up dialog and is constructive.
I stand behind my thoughts on the show. The poor writing and structure of the piece presents an almost impossible obstacle for the actors to overcome. Perhaps that contributed to the discomfort I felt from them that never allowed me to get involved. The directing was weak, the pace is lethargic and we have learned that it was not Marc's first choice. I'm surprised it was chosen for the season. Maybe the selection committee was jonesing for chutzpah. (See, I can't help myself sometimes)
So, while I still maintain that my analysis of the show is valid, I also realize that the tone was off-putting, which led to vitriolic reactions to, rather than consideration of, the merit of the critique. My sincere apologies to cast members who felt it was a personal attack. It was not intended as such. And apologies for not getting Jeni's name right.
Next week, I'll be posting reviews of Riverfront's "Don't Dress For Dinner" and Greenman's "Don't Drink The Water." Call them and warn them...(damn, it's my evil twin at the keyboard again).
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Review: "To Gillian On Her 37th Birthday" Wheaton Drama, Wheaton IL 4/8/10
The current production at Wheaton Drama is being touted as an Oppenheimer Award winner for Best Play. Before reading their press release, I’d never heard of the Oppenheimer Award. I was hoping it was akin to the Nobel Peace Prize. Perhaps it was discovered that reading/viewing the play would shield you from radiation poisoning. Or it was a literary award given by a group of hedge fund managers. A quick Google (I try to do that right after brushing) reveals there is an Oppenheimer Award, described as, “... the premier award to a young investigator in recognition of meritorious accomplishment in the field of basic or clinical endocrinology.” I’m jazzed about maybe winning one, but what does that have to do with an award for “Best Play”?
It wasn’t until I reached the bowels of my Google search (somewhere around page 3) that I discovered that the award they are referring to is not for the play, but for the playwright. To quote the Ocala Star-Banner of 8/5/84, “Michael Brady, author of ‘To Gillian On Her 37th Birthday,’ has won the George Oppenheimer Newsday award as the best new American playwright whose work was produced in New York City or Long Island. ...Newsday...annually presents the $1000 award in memory of George Oppenheimer, the newspaper’s drama critic who died in 1977.” Not quite as prestigious as the endocrine award, but an award nonetheless.
I mention this because in the director’s notes in the program, Marc Ludena states, “But when I read the script...I began to understand why this script was awarded the Oppenheimer Award for best play in 1983.” And this confused me, because as I watched it unfolding on stage, I kept asking myself, “Who is Oppenheimer, and what the hell was he thinking?” As it turns out, he wasn’t thinking at all. He was dead.
As an audience member, these are not the thoughts that should be running through your head after the first ten minutes of a show. You should be engaged in what’s being played out on stage and making a visceral emotional connection with the characters. For this show in particular to be successful, the audience has to care about the characters. Unfortunately, none of the performances of this production, except for one, made me make that empathetic leap. And, even more unfortunate, when the performances are weak, it always exposes the weaknesses of the literature.
Judging a piece of literature/movie/play has nothing to do with the subject matter. It’s more about how it is about the subject. I think the play addresses the issue of grieving in a manner that is rife with superficiality and structurally on par with your average After School Special. And just as predictable. It concerns David, a former college professor, who has entombed himself in a 2-year grief process over the death of Gillian, his wife, and has shut himself off emotionally to others, especially his daughter. And that’s pretty much it. All else is bunting, fluff and filler. He is either going to make a connection with everyone, which means there will be obligatory scenes at the end so David can reveal to each person that his emotional boo-boo is gone and all is good, or he’s not. The big conflict that ends Act 1 (spoiler alert) is whether Rachel is going to live with Ester and Paul, her aunt and uncle on her mother’s side, or stay with David. Ooooh. Ahhh. That’s the conflict; the tension that’s supposed to keep us engaged and carry us through intermission. Evidently it wasn’t enough to entice quite a few patrons to return to their seats for Act 2 on the night I saw the show. And when a fundamentally weak script is poorly executed, you don’t care about any of it.
David is portrayed by Craig Witt, who appears to have internalized the emotional disconnect so well that he never invests himself into the performance, nor does he display any humanity. There is no honesty or believability in what he does on stage, and it’s hard to accept there ever was a relationship with his daughter. He has chosen a stiff, halting delivery, with stage movements that belie his acting acumen. He shuffled constantly, bobbed his head with every line reading, and used a stage voice that screamed, “I’m acting!!!”. In my notes, I wrote, “I’m seeing the work, not the result of the work.” As I’ve told many of the actors I’ve directed, the audience doesn’t care how you get there...they just want you to get there; be honest, because they can spot insincerity a mile away.
David’s teenaged-daughter Rachel is played by Katie Kanturek, a teenager herself, who needs more time to mature as an actor. She doesn't appear able to handle this role at this time in her budding theatre career; especially given the obstacles of a lackluster script, a lack of stage support from the principal actors and a lack of dynamic direction. Given time and guidance, Katie has the potential to be a fine actor.
The obligatory in-law characters, Ester (Gillian’s sister) and Paul (her husband) are acted by real-life couple Jenny Dees and Ish Rios. I expected there to be some chemistry between the two, but the characters are stereotypical at best and neither actor had the chops to bring them to life in an interesting way. The result was routine and pedestrian characters. I was led to believe that they were intended to be the comic relief of the show, but so much of what they did rang hollow. They were caricatures rather than characters, and the humor fell flat. Dramatically, there wasn’t much to hang onto. When Ester has a reveal of her personal crisis concerning children, it felt forced and false. Rios made some questionable acting choices and mis-played Paul, especially when he tries to convince David to return to teaching. He brought nothing but a buffoonish grin to the acting table.
The in-laws bring someone with them on their visit to David, hoping that if she could bed him, he’d get out of his funk. Her name is Kevin (it’s explained in the show), and she was once David’s student. She’s hot for teacher. Again, a fairly typical plot device. Kevin is played by Traci Cidlik, who somehow managed to transform a character that should easily garner audience empathy into a character devoid of emotional depth. Her timing contributed to bringing the overall pace of the show down. The scenes between her and David were froth with lethargy.
Rachel has a friend, Cindy, who has more of a personal connection with David than he has with his daughter. She is his jogging partner and human confessional. She has developed a crush on him and is played by Erica Pezza, a new-comer to theatre. There is a diamond-in-the-rough quality about her. Once she’s had more time to hone and polish her craft, I predict her time on stage will contribute greatly to any production.
The one bright spot was Lisa Schmela as titular Gillian, who comes to life only in the mind of David. When she walked out on stage, and spoke her first line (48 minutes into the show), I wrote in my notes, “Interesting that the dead woman would bring some life to this production.” She was natural, real and honest. I didn’t see her “acting.” I was drawn into the person she was and I found myself wishing I knew more about her. She left me wanting more of her on stage. I was sorry she was dead.
As poor execution highlights the flaws in a script, lack of energy, poor pacing, linear blocking and wavering focus in the acting reveal the flaws of the direction. A scene at a lighthouse could have been staged in a less than cumbersome way. The scene itself is awkwardly written, and takes place between Kevin and Rachel. It lacked any honesty or real emotion. Those important items were replaced with a lighthouse unit that was rolled loudly onto the stage. Because the scene didn’t offer anything emotionality compelling, it basically said, “Look, we can put a lighthouse on stage, and we have shiny red bikes.”
The stage at Wheaton Drama is wider than it is deep, and this poses some problems in staging shows. At times, when the whole group was having a “family” conversation, the director tried to use all the stage. People were very far apart and any intimacy of the scene was lost. A simple solution would have been to narrow the audience’s view by bring the side drapes in and build a smaller, more intimate and efficient set. Conversations between characters about their feelings were made moot by spacing that hinted that no one wanted any human connection.
There are many problems with the production. I have copious notes. And I shouldn’t have them. As an audience member, I notice many things when the direction, acting and story structure don’t engage my attention. I become distracted by the little pieces because the big picture is not there to look at.
Was it worth the price of admission. No, and I went on discount night.
Paid: $13
Worth: $2.60
Run time: 2hrs, 11 minutes with intermission
For ticket info, dates and times, visit www.wheatondrama.org
It wasn’t until I reached the bowels of my Google search (somewhere around page 3) that I discovered that the award they are referring to is not for the play, but for the playwright. To quote the Ocala Star-Banner of 8/5/84, “Michael Brady, author of ‘To Gillian On Her 37th Birthday,’ has won the George Oppenheimer Newsday award as the best new American playwright whose work was produced in New York City or Long Island. ...Newsday...annually presents the $1000 award in memory of George Oppenheimer, the newspaper’s drama critic who died in 1977.” Not quite as prestigious as the endocrine award, but an award nonetheless.
I mention this because in the director’s notes in the program, Marc Ludena states, “But when I read the script...I began to understand why this script was awarded the Oppenheimer Award for best play in 1983.” And this confused me, because as I watched it unfolding on stage, I kept asking myself, “Who is Oppenheimer, and what the hell was he thinking?” As it turns out, he wasn’t thinking at all. He was dead.
As an audience member, these are not the thoughts that should be running through your head after the first ten minutes of a show. You should be engaged in what’s being played out on stage and making a visceral emotional connection with the characters. For this show in particular to be successful, the audience has to care about the characters. Unfortunately, none of the performances of this production, except for one, made me make that empathetic leap. And, even more unfortunate, when the performances are weak, it always exposes the weaknesses of the literature.
Judging a piece of literature/movie/play has nothing to do with the subject matter. It’s more about how it is about the subject. I think the play addresses the issue of grieving in a manner that is rife with superficiality and structurally on par with your average After School Special. And just as predictable. It concerns David, a former college professor, who has entombed himself in a 2-year grief process over the death of Gillian, his wife, and has shut himself off emotionally to others, especially his daughter. And that’s pretty much it. All else is bunting, fluff and filler. He is either going to make a connection with everyone, which means there will be obligatory scenes at the end so David can reveal to each person that his emotional boo-boo is gone and all is good, or he’s not. The big conflict that ends Act 1 (spoiler alert) is whether Rachel is going to live with Ester and Paul, her aunt and uncle on her mother’s side, or stay with David. Ooooh. Ahhh. That’s the conflict; the tension that’s supposed to keep us engaged and carry us through intermission. Evidently it wasn’t enough to entice quite a few patrons to return to their seats for Act 2 on the night I saw the show. And when a fundamentally weak script is poorly executed, you don’t care about any of it.
David is portrayed by Craig Witt, who appears to have internalized the emotional disconnect so well that he never invests himself into the performance, nor does he display any humanity. There is no honesty or believability in what he does on stage, and it’s hard to accept there ever was a relationship with his daughter. He has chosen a stiff, halting delivery, with stage movements that belie his acting acumen. He shuffled constantly, bobbed his head with every line reading, and used a stage voice that screamed, “I’m acting!!!”. In my notes, I wrote, “I’m seeing the work, not the result of the work.” As I’ve told many of the actors I’ve directed, the audience doesn’t care how you get there...they just want you to get there; be honest, because they can spot insincerity a mile away.
David’s teenaged-daughter Rachel is played by Katie Kanturek, a teenager herself, who needs more time to mature as an actor. She doesn't appear able to handle this role at this time in her budding theatre career; especially given the obstacles of a lackluster script, a lack of stage support from the principal actors and a lack of dynamic direction. Given time and guidance, Katie has the potential to be a fine actor.
The obligatory in-law characters, Ester (Gillian’s sister) and Paul (her husband) are acted by real-life couple Jenny Dees and Ish Rios. I expected there to be some chemistry between the two, but the characters are stereotypical at best and neither actor had the chops to bring them to life in an interesting way. The result was routine and pedestrian characters. I was led to believe that they were intended to be the comic relief of the show, but so much of what they did rang hollow. They were caricatures rather than characters, and the humor fell flat. Dramatically, there wasn’t much to hang onto. When Ester has a reveal of her personal crisis concerning children, it felt forced and false. Rios made some questionable acting choices and mis-played Paul, especially when he tries to convince David to return to teaching. He brought nothing but a buffoonish grin to the acting table.
The in-laws bring someone with them on their visit to David, hoping that if she could bed him, he’d get out of his funk. Her name is Kevin (it’s explained in the show), and she was once David’s student. She’s hot for teacher. Again, a fairly typical plot device. Kevin is played by Traci Cidlik, who somehow managed to transform a character that should easily garner audience empathy into a character devoid of emotional depth. Her timing contributed to bringing the overall pace of the show down. The scenes between her and David were froth with lethargy.
Rachel has a friend, Cindy, who has more of a personal connection with David than he has with his daughter. She is his jogging partner and human confessional. She has developed a crush on him and is played by Erica Pezza, a new-comer to theatre. There is a diamond-in-the-rough quality about her. Once she’s had more time to hone and polish her craft, I predict her time on stage will contribute greatly to any production.
The one bright spot was Lisa Schmela as titular Gillian, who comes to life only in the mind of David. When she walked out on stage, and spoke her first line (48 minutes into the show), I wrote in my notes, “Interesting that the dead woman would bring some life to this production.” She was natural, real and honest. I didn’t see her “acting.” I was drawn into the person she was and I found myself wishing I knew more about her. She left me wanting more of her on stage. I was sorry she was dead.
As poor execution highlights the flaws in a script, lack of energy, poor pacing, linear blocking and wavering focus in the acting reveal the flaws of the direction. A scene at a lighthouse could have been staged in a less than cumbersome way. The scene itself is awkwardly written, and takes place between Kevin and Rachel. It lacked any honesty or real emotion. Those important items were replaced with a lighthouse unit that was rolled loudly onto the stage. Because the scene didn’t offer anything emotionality compelling, it basically said, “Look, we can put a lighthouse on stage, and we have shiny red bikes.”
The stage at Wheaton Drama is wider than it is deep, and this poses some problems in staging shows. At times, when the whole group was having a “family” conversation, the director tried to use all the stage. People were very far apart and any intimacy of the scene was lost. A simple solution would have been to narrow the audience’s view by bring the side drapes in and build a smaller, more intimate and efficient set. Conversations between characters about their feelings were made moot by spacing that hinted that no one wanted any human connection.
There are many problems with the production. I have copious notes. And I shouldn’t have them. As an audience member, I notice many things when the direction, acting and story structure don’t engage my attention. I become distracted by the little pieces because the big picture is not there to look at.
Was it worth the price of admission. No, and I went on discount night.
Paid: $13
Worth: $2.60
Run time: 2hrs, 11 minutes with intermission
For ticket info, dates and times, visit www.wheatondrama.org
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