- New Attitude - I need to be more diligent in getting these reviews posted. Summer is a season of shows that only last two weekends, so I have challenged myself to see the show opening night and post a review before the first performance the next week. I saw Cyrano de Bergerac last Saturday and wanted to get a review up before this weekend. Well, time and life (the ethereal concepts, not the publications) got in the way. So, while I still plan on getting a review up, let me preview it by advising you to spend your money elsewhere. David Lindley, the director, missed the purpose of the translation he used, and managed to suck the humor out of it. There were some dicey acting choices, but overall, the fault is to be laid at Lindley's front door. Part of the new attitude is that I am going to be more demanding in terms of what I hope to see in local theatrical productions, and less forgiving of those shows that don't really try.
- New Rules - I have always allowed anyone to post their comments to my reviews. Even if they call me a scoundrel or besmirch my reputation with vicious barbs, I let them post. However, this recent spate of "so-and-so is so-and-so's mom" junior high-school crap is wrong, and serves no purpose. So, the new rule is: If you want to post anonymously, go ahead. But I reserve the right to censor any parts of the message that I consider libelous, slanderous or outright falsehoods. Yep, my blog...my rules. You can take shots at me all you want. If you want to say something about other comments, that's fine. But when you start commenting on the posters themselves, then you have to own up to it with your name. I put mine out there, they put theirs out there, and if you're going to take a shot at someone, you have to own up to it too, so they can, if they care to, face their accuser. Perhaps now is a good time to tell you I found an application that can log the IP addresses of all comments. I promise not to use the log as long as people follow the rules. Children, don't make me turn this blog around and go home.
- Unfinished review - I attended a performance of Over The River And Through The Woods during the third weekend of its run. I never got the review posted. By the time I got around to writing it, the show had closed at Village Theatre of Glen Ellyn, so what was the point. But as I thought about it, I felt it was fair to share some of what I thought, since the director, who knows me and my blog, came over and personally said she hoped I enjoyed the show. So, here's what I thought: The script contains just about everything I dislike in a script. It's contrived, superficial and the characters lack depth. It is driven by ethnic stereotypes and reeks of being a sitcom. It is, in the words of another critic, a bad take on Everybody Loves Raymond. It is written by the same guy who wrote the script for the musical, I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change. I disliked that script also. That one was a bad episode of Love, American Style set to music. The guy (yeah, I threw away the program since I wasn't reviewing it, so I'm at a loss) who played Frank had no emotional investment in the character and his eyes said that no one was home. He was slow on his cues and derailed the timing in a number of scenes. Joann and Stan, who played the other set of grandparents were OK. Vince (who played Nick) did a pretty good job, but lacked something...not sure what. Maybe his portrayal was a bit distant. The girl who played his blind date left me feeling cold. There was no warmth to her character or portrayal, but I suspect much of that comes from the writing. The best part of the show was the woman who played Frank's wife (again. no program to refer to). She was outstanding. She was fully committed to her choices and played them with nuance and shading. And she reminded me of my Mom, who always greets me lovingly with the words, "You want something to eat?" Let me make you a little something. No? You sure? OK, I'll make you something anyway, in case you get hungry." As I said, I hated the script...and yet, I found myself laughing and smiling through most of it. Go figure. Carla Mutone, the director, went broad with the comedy and light with the humanity. The show is banal, but it hit me just right on that particular night.
- Responding to some comments - I promised myself that I would not respond to the comments. But the last round of comments gave off a malodorous stench of something being rotten in the state of Denmark. After writing my first review, I put out the following statement: "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." And I still feel that way. I think it's a holy grail worth pursuing. But I'm starting to wonder if anyone else does. Here are some snippets of statements made in emails concerning the last show I reviewed: "...as close to professional as you're going to get in community theatre...I thought it was great, for community theatre...some actors are just doomed to being what I would call 'community theatre' actors...you play the cards you're dealt (refers to casting a show based on the talent pool that auditions for community theatre)...she (the choreographer) did what she could with the cards she was dealt." Seems pessimistic, yes? It feels similar to putting an asterisk on Roger Maris' 61 homers. As I think more on the comments made on this blog, there is, in my opinion, a miasma emanating from the core of community or local theatre patrons and members. There is a pall of complacency that needs to be quashed, or mediocrity will soon be perceived as the gold standard. Let's look at the comments I received on my most recent review of Chicago: The Musical. Anonymous said, "... And hey Fosse chorography is really stylized and super hard to do. I can't imagine trying to find people in community theater who are talented enough to dance Fosse style plus sing and act. The chorographer did a great job with what she had and it was fun to watch. I give it $20, your a little too rough on shows, especially where everyone is having fun up there and it shows. And their not getting paid for it." I find this statement disturbing, and not because of the misspellings. It is based on dangerous and insulting assumptions. Anon is basically saying: 1) Fosse-styled choreography is so super hard, you'll not find anyone in the talent pool in community theatre who can do it, so why try? Really? So, if you're in local theatre, or have family and friends in it, Anonymous just told all of you and them to not even try, because, to be blunt, you or they just don't have the talent. The big myth, of course, is that Fosse-style choreography is super hard. I'm sorry, but it's not hard. It's a style. Just like Twyla Tharp has a particular signature look, so does Fosse. Neither is hard. It's mostly attitude, some isolated movements tight to the body, looks, poses, and internalized fire. Or, it's a finger snap or two. Whatever it was, it is recognizable. I've seen it done at every dance studio recital my kids were in, which is quite a few. Little kids can do it. And the women (not so much the men) in the show could have done it, if they were challenged. I thought they were strong, but underused. An attempt should have been made, especially with the show going back to the vaudeville roots that Fosse envisioned. Instead, we got chaotic and repetitive bumps and grinds, and at one point, some West Side Story. Again, this is just my opinion. But I do think for too long we've had it drilled into us that community theatre should get a pass on negative criticism, and instead should be approached as, "Let's be nice to the community theatre people, because they...uhmmm...have learning disabilities. Just smile and nod." I have more faith in community theatre talent than those who claim to be defending it. 2) No one is getting paid, so don't be so critical. It's obvious they are having fun, so leave them be. Really? I would accept that argument, except that theatres are asking me for my money and time to watch them have fun. They are under an obligation, then, to give me something that rivals the value of my payment and time. Seeing theatres and patrons hide behind the mantle of "community theatre" in order to excuse mediocrity is really starting to piss me off. I'm not there out of obligation to support friends or family, or because I'm a member of the theatre. I'm a patron of theatre with no vested interest, as are many others, and we are looking for a couple of hours of entertainment for our dollars. I'm there hoping to be engaged in something on stage and to review the show. This fallacy about no one getting paid so they should be immune to criticism is a load of bullshit, and begs the question: If unpaid actors are criticism-proof, how much do you have to pay an actor to remove that protective shield? A dollar a show? $5? How about $25 a show? Where is the threshold? And, if no one is calling attention to local theatres providing mediocre productions, there will be no accountability and the bar will always be set low. It will always be easy for a show to exceed audience expectations, because, as they say, it's only community theatre and the audience doesn't expect much. If you're in local theatre, that reality should get you mad.
- A Schedule, of sorts - I'm already late on my Cyrano review. I hope to get it posted this evening. Tonight I'm seeing the musical Tommy at Theatre On The Hill in Bolingbrook and Saturday night I'm seeing The Sleeper at The Riverfront Playhouse in Aurora. If anyone knows of shows I should be reviewing, let me know. Early July I'll be looking at WDI's Sylvia and Summerplace's Lend Me A Tenor.
- A Challenge - I challenge every local theatre, actor, staff and crew to set the bar higher for your audience and try to excel and take some risks. Help lay to rest the myth that community/local theatre is second best to...I'm not sure what, but there is a palpable sense that people have lower expectations of community theatre. Think about what you may have done that has contributed to that lowered expectation. Give it some honest thought. Money is still tight, and many smaller theatres in Chicago are offering deals so that they can drink heartily from your revenue stream. I just bought tickets for Equus at Red Twist Theatre, 1044 W. Bryn Mawr, for this Sunday's matinée. $13.50...paid actors, small theatre, low prices, cutting-edge material...a combination rarely seen in the burbs. I'll let you know how it goes.
Friday, June 25, 2010
New look, new attitude, new rules, unfinished review, responding to some comments, a schedule of sorts, and a challenge.
As you can see, I changed the look of the blog. Thought I'd make it pretty. With this new look come other changes. Sit back and relax...there's lots to cover in this post.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Review: "Chicago: The Musical" Wheaton Drama, Wheaton, IL 5/28/2010
This was a tough one to write. There are a number of things I loved about this production, and some exceptional performances. There were also performances that I found disappointing. The overall show is good, but it didn't sizzle for me. I have realized that my disappointment with the show came from my expectations. It was not the show I wanted to see.
A brief history: When this show was first released on Broadway in 1975, it was called Chicago: A Musical Vaudeville. It was not a financial or critical hit. During it's two-year run, it flirted with closing a number of times. Each number was an homage to a specific vaudeville/burlesque act or personality, and had the heavy touch of Bob Fosse. In 1996, a stripped-down version of the show was revived on Broadway, and started garnering the awards and the hype. The show took on a dark red/black tone and concentrated more on the dance. It was a concert, more than a show. Even the name was changed to Chicago: The Musical and re-choreographed in the style of Bob Fosse by Ann Reinking, I'd seen the former, but not the latter.
I'm not sure why it was that I thought I would be seeing the more "modern" version. Maybe it was because I hoped to, or it was the fact that Vaudeville was not in the title of this production. Maybe it was the poster design, which displays a modern skyline of Chicago and is done in the newer representation of black/red/shadows that led me to believe I would see something different than what I knew. So, because of my expectations, things didn't come together for me. And I couldn't review a show based on that. It's not fair. I have to judge it by what I actually saw on stage.
Here's what I saw: Julie Bayer was brilliant as Velma. Spunky, energetic, and a voice that hits all the right notes and timing that enhances, rather than detracts from, the comedy. I was somewhat disappointed in Heather Miller's version of Roxie, primarily because she fell flat during the ends of phrases in her songs. I don't know enough about why that happens: breath control, support, whatever it was, but the night I saw her, big finishes to songs felt under-sung.
The girls outshone the men in the chorus functions. Men were put primarily in the back to hide them, which is often the case in community theatre. Many times, however, it felt as if they were place holders, and not in the same show with the other cast members. Some of my favorite numbers were Cell Block Tango and Razzle Dazzle. I have to be honest, though: I really missed the presence of Bob Fosse in the choreography. Again, that's probably based on a perception, but his style is synonymous with the show, and I found myself wanting to see some of that.
I liked Billy Flynn as portrayed by Garret Ard. He had a nice blend of sleazy, smarmy and controlling. He was fun to watch. Reneisha Jenkins gave a nice portrayal of Mama Morton. I did feel that the low notes of her signature song were a little out of her range and she had a hard time pushing them out. However, her duet of Class with Velma in Act 2 is one of the best songs I've heard on stage in quite some time. Based on her biography, I really wanted to see dance more in the show.
I would be remiss if I didn't mention Jamie Sandoval's performance as Amos Hart. Heart-wrenching and innocent, he did a great job with Mister Cellophane. I believed every moment of his performance. He committed to a character and stayed with it. I was not as happy with E.L. Dunsanek as Mary Sunshine. Besides problems staying on key, the character seemed to have trouble staying on task and seemed to start performing for a few in the audience rather than the whole.
Director Craig Gustafson did a nice job with what he wanted to present. It wasn't what I wanted to see, but that's my issue, not his. Looking past that, it's a fun production, with some wonderful performances. And the clever set that is a series of rotating panels and channeled side drapes was designed by him.
I did have an issue with hearing the band, especially the overture that comes from behind the curtains. It's a musical, dammit...I want to hear the music. Then, when I did hear them, there seemed to be some trouble finding notes and slow tempos on songs that should have sparkled. Finally, while I usually don't mention costumes because I'm not one to notice them, I did notice these and thought most of the costumes were ill-fitting and unflattering on the women, especially the chorus.
Paid: $21
Worth: $16.80 (based solely on what I saw, and not what I wanted to see)
2 hours 24 minutes, with intermission
A brief history: When this show was first released on Broadway in 1975, it was called Chicago: A Musical Vaudeville. It was not a financial or critical hit. During it's two-year run, it flirted with closing a number of times. Each number was an homage to a specific vaudeville/burlesque act or personality, and had the heavy touch of Bob Fosse. In 1996, a stripped-down version of the show was revived on Broadway, and started garnering the awards and the hype. The show took on a dark red/black tone and concentrated more on the dance. It was a concert, more than a show. Even the name was changed to Chicago: The Musical and re-choreographed in the style of Bob Fosse by Ann Reinking, I'd seen the former, but not the latter.
I'm not sure why it was that I thought I would be seeing the more "modern" version. Maybe it was because I hoped to, or it was the fact that Vaudeville was not in the title of this production. Maybe it was the poster design, which displays a modern skyline of Chicago and is done in the newer representation of black/red/shadows that led me to believe I would see something different than what I knew. So, because of my expectations, things didn't come together for me. And I couldn't review a show based on that. It's not fair. I have to judge it by what I actually saw on stage.
Here's what I saw: Julie Bayer was brilliant as Velma. Spunky, energetic, and a voice that hits all the right notes and timing that enhances, rather than detracts from, the comedy. I was somewhat disappointed in Heather Miller's version of Roxie, primarily because she fell flat during the ends of phrases in her songs. I don't know enough about why that happens: breath control, support, whatever it was, but the night I saw her, big finishes to songs felt under-sung.
The girls outshone the men in the chorus functions. Men were put primarily in the back to hide them, which is often the case in community theatre. Many times, however, it felt as if they were place holders, and not in the same show with the other cast members. Some of my favorite numbers were Cell Block Tango and Razzle Dazzle. I have to be honest, though: I really missed the presence of Bob Fosse in the choreography. Again, that's probably based on a perception, but his style is synonymous with the show, and I found myself wanting to see some of that.
I liked Billy Flynn as portrayed by Garret Ard. He had a nice blend of sleazy, smarmy and controlling. He was fun to watch. Reneisha Jenkins gave a nice portrayal of Mama Morton. I did feel that the low notes of her signature song were a little out of her range and she had a hard time pushing them out. However, her duet of Class with Velma in Act 2 is one of the best songs I've heard on stage in quite some time. Based on her biography, I really wanted to see dance more in the show.
I would be remiss if I didn't mention Jamie Sandoval's performance as Amos Hart. Heart-wrenching and innocent, he did a great job with Mister Cellophane. I believed every moment of his performance. He committed to a character and stayed with it. I was not as happy with E.L. Dunsanek as Mary Sunshine. Besides problems staying on key, the character seemed to have trouble staying on task and seemed to start performing for a few in the audience rather than the whole.
Director Craig Gustafson did a nice job with what he wanted to present. It wasn't what I wanted to see, but that's my issue, not his. Looking past that, it's a fun production, with some wonderful performances. And the clever set that is a series of rotating panels and channeled side drapes was designed by him.
I did have an issue with hearing the band, especially the overture that comes from behind the curtains. It's a musical, dammit...I want to hear the music. Then, when I did hear them, there seemed to be some trouble finding notes and slow tempos on songs that should have sparkled. Finally, while I usually don't mention costumes because I'm not one to notice them, I did notice these and thought most of the costumes were ill-fitting and unflattering on the women, especially the chorus.
Paid: $21
Worth: $16.80 (based solely on what I saw, and not what I wanted to see)
2 hours 24 minutes, with intermission
Friday, May 14, 2010
Review: "K-PAX" Geneva Underground Playhouse, Geneva, IL 5/7/2010
In the past month, I saw:
- a bad script exposed by misguided acting and direction
- a clever script done fairly well
- a good script mangled by such poor direction that the acting didn't really matter
- a fun/unique script brought to life by great acting and direction
On Friday 5/7/2010, I experienced another permutation of the acting/direction/script conundrum: some good actors crippled by a weak and wordy script that gives their characters no purpose and stage direction that is fundamentally flawed.
Presented by Geneva Underground Theatre, K-PAX tells the story of a mental patient who claims he is a visitor from the planet K-PAX and goes by the name of Prot (rhymes with boat). His purpose for being on Earth is revealed on a landscape of de rigueur "psych ward" scenes dotted with unnecessary monologues by each character, all at a distressingly slow pace. Should you want more details about the story and the author, take a gander at this newspaper article.
The main problem with the show is that it lacks dynamic conflict and doesn't play well on stage. I'm sure it's a wonderful novel, but as a script, there's no cohesive flow to a story arc that takes us nowhere and essentially poises itself for a sequel. Written by Gene Brewer, it is based on his novel of the same name, which is the first segment of a trilogy. As I watched it, I had a feeling of deja vu: the common room scenes in the psych ward had all the stereotypical characters seen in One Flew Over A Cuckoo's Nest except for the pony-tailed Native American with a push broom, and the weary psychiatrist delving into the mind of the enigmatic patient made me yearn to see Equus again. And, without being too specific, the whole motif smacks of the basic framework of Christian religions. The pace is deadly slow and plays on one level that never builds dramatic tension. When the big climax does occur, it just happens. Then the show smokes a cigarette, rolls over and goes to sleep, leaving us feeling unsatisfied as an audience.
The therapy sessions between Prot and the psychiatrist are a series of Q and A sessions steeped in endless and circuitous psychobabble. At times, it felt like two people reading lines, since there was nothing onto which the actors could anchor and drive the story forward. When Dr. Brewer feels he's not making progress, he turns to hypnotherapy. Unfortunately, these scenes don't play well on stage either. Hypnosis scenes ask an audience to take an extra large leap of faith in the suspension of disbelief. The de facto reality is that the audience knows one actor is not really going to hypnotize the other, so there is a preconceived artifice that needs to be overcome. If your actors aren't strong enough, the scene fails.
Scott Surowiecki plays Prot in a manner that is all style with little substance. In my notes, I wrote "Mork from Ork without humor." There are no honest moments in his portrayal, and all I got from him was acting, not the result of the acting. It was superficial at best. This character has to be accessible to the audience in order for them to care about whatever happens. He is, after all, the focus of the show. Unfortunately, Surowiecki's Prot comes off as smug and smarmy. The lack of emotional investment was tangibly evident and created a wall that kept us from connecting. This is especially daunting in the hypnosis scene when he goes back to the age of five, then nine and then seventeen. His way of portraying the younger kids had the physicality and nasal tenor of Lily Tomlin's character Edith Ann, which is not how kids talk, but how adults pretend they talk. His teenager was painted as a hipster street thug and was clearly lacking in honesty. All of this made believing in the hypnosis scenes difficult. And, as a side note, his self-absorbed and exaggerated bow during curtain call reeked of narcissism and was off-putting.
Dr. Gene Brewer (yes, the author named the character after himself) is played by Pat Able, a good actor who was fettered by a weakly-written character. There were times when you could see Able starting to break the surface, but the weight of the script kept holding him under. He seemed to have difficulty deciding who Brewer was, and the tactics he would need to actualize it. This speaks more to the script and the director. Able had energy, and was invested emotionally, but his shotgun approach to finding a comfortable niche forced his focus to be too wide.
The other characters are, in my opinion, superfluous; if not by design, then by portrayal. Angelicque Cate plays Betty, the nurse who seems to serve no other purpose than to announce that a patient has arrived and to get cantankerous and snippy with Brewer. She does a pretty good job with what she had to work with. She did, however, rely on a southern twang from her vocal repertoire, which distracted from, rather than enhanced, her character. Steve Lord as the patient Chuck spoke in such quiet tones that it was difficult to hear him. The character seems to do nothing but make inappropriate scatological utterances, and not very well. It was as if he was suffering a case of meek Tourette's Syndrome-lite. He brought nothing new to this obligatory "psych ward" persona. He did better in his monologue, but like most of the other monologues, it was strictly time filler.
Peter Lemongelli did a nice job as Howie, another patient. He wore his character like a tight glove and was interesting to watch. Russ Devereaux played Ernie, the overly-twitchy OCD character that always appears in these "mental ward" shows. He did pretty well with the tried and true character, hitting the right notes for the most part and was passable with his monologue. He just needs to tone down the twitching in the initial scenes.
A "mental hospital" show is not complete without the character who hasn't spoken aloud since some life-shattering event in their past. The character Bess is right out of a Psychology 101 textbook, and is played by Angela Bend. Her scenes in the common room were appropriately catatonic. I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt and say she worked the nuances of an empty stare to perfection. It was that, or she was shutting down because of the mind-numbing pace of the on-stage action. She did the best job with her monologue, even though it's not a necessary component of the story, since it only estabishes back story for characters that could easily have been left out of the script, or minimized to simple tasks. K-PAX is, at its heart, a one-on-one of Prot and Brewer, and could have made a concise and compelling one-act.
Into this mix is thrown a reporter named Giselle, whose only purpose appears to be making goo-goo eyes at the alien. She serves as a conduit for a background check of Prot being done off stage by her unseen cohort (yes, it morphs into a detective story at one point). Again, I'm not sure why she became part of the story, which takes place in 2003 (established during a hypnosis scene when Brewer asks Prot to go back 5 years to 1998). They had Google back then and most of what she says to help the story along would be easily found during a computer search done by Betty. Kathy Richardson gives us Giselle through a lackluster performance that had no energy, emotion, commitment or basic stage craft. She is another one I had problems with hearing from the back row...which is only four rows from the stage. Her monologue was monotonous and monotone, and when there was an opportunity in the script for her to turn up the volume and energy, only her vocal pitch rose. The director should have corrected this before the show opened.
The pacing of the show was terribly slow. Director Eric Peter Schwartz should have instilled a sense of energy into the blocking, which was mostly lethargic. He needed to make the dialog snap, especially the scenes in the psychiatrist's office. The slow pace was exacerbated by the long blackouts between scenes. The one-person stage crew, garbed in a long-flowing blue outfit instead of the usual stage-crew black, moved with no sense of urgency to set up the next scene. She took her time putting up pictures on a wall to show the passage of time. It almost felt like days were passing as the audience sat in blackout. And she moved slowly. And then would start to leave the stage, only to turn around and come back because she forgot something. And she moved even more slowly. Many times, she erased something on a white board in the common room that you couldn't read in the first place because of the glare of the stage lights, and replaced it with something else you couldn't read. She erased and wrote slowly. And then left the stage.
Slowly.
In too many scenes, actors were upstaging each other. Entire conversations took place with one of the characters forced to keep their ass to the audience because the scene was played front to back, rather than side to side. Theatre is a visual and auditory medium, and I prefer to see the faces of the people talking.
As I've mentioned in other reviews, when the stage work is not compelling, my mind will wander to little things that I would normally ignore, like everyone moving with glacier-like speed during the curtain call and the anachronistic use of exploding fist bumps when Prot meets other patients. What you really want to know is the answer to this question: Is it worth the price of admission? Sadly, no.
Paid: $20
Worth: $8
Run time: 2 hours and 18 minutes, with intermission. They could knock 20 minutes off this with tighter direction, cue pick-ups, vocal and physical energy and getting the stage crew to move quickly during the blackouts.
Presented by Geneva Underground Theatre, K-PAX tells the story of a mental patient who claims he is a visitor from the planet K-PAX and goes by the name of Prot (rhymes with boat). His purpose for being on Earth is revealed on a landscape of de rigueur "psych ward" scenes dotted with unnecessary monologues by each character, all at a distressingly slow pace. Should you want more details about the story and the author, take a gander at this newspaper article.
The main problem with the show is that it lacks dynamic conflict and doesn't play well on stage. I'm sure it's a wonderful novel, but as a script, there's no cohesive flow to a story arc that takes us nowhere and essentially poises itself for a sequel. Written by Gene Brewer, it is based on his novel of the same name, which is the first segment of a trilogy. As I watched it, I had a feeling of deja vu: the common room scenes in the psych ward had all the stereotypical characters seen in One Flew Over A Cuckoo's Nest except for the pony-tailed Native American with a push broom, and the weary psychiatrist delving into the mind of the enigmatic patient made me yearn to see Equus again. And, without being too specific, the whole motif smacks of the basic framework of Christian religions. The pace is deadly slow and plays on one level that never builds dramatic tension. When the big climax does occur, it just happens. Then the show smokes a cigarette, rolls over and goes to sleep, leaving us feeling unsatisfied as an audience.
The therapy sessions between Prot and the psychiatrist are a series of Q and A sessions steeped in endless and circuitous psychobabble. At times, it felt like two people reading lines, since there was nothing onto which the actors could anchor and drive the story forward. When Dr. Brewer feels he's not making progress, he turns to hypnotherapy. Unfortunately, these scenes don't play well on stage either. Hypnosis scenes ask an audience to take an extra large leap of faith in the suspension of disbelief. The de facto reality is that the audience knows one actor is not really going to hypnotize the other, so there is a preconceived artifice that needs to be overcome. If your actors aren't strong enough, the scene fails.
Scott Surowiecki plays Prot in a manner that is all style with little substance. In my notes, I wrote "Mork from Ork without humor." There are no honest moments in his portrayal, and all I got from him was acting, not the result of the acting. It was superficial at best. This character has to be accessible to the audience in order for them to care about whatever happens. He is, after all, the focus of the show. Unfortunately, Surowiecki's Prot comes off as smug and smarmy. The lack of emotional investment was tangibly evident and created a wall that kept us from connecting. This is especially daunting in the hypnosis scene when he goes back to the age of five, then nine and then seventeen. His way of portraying the younger kids had the physicality and nasal tenor of Lily Tomlin's character Edith Ann, which is not how kids talk, but how adults pretend they talk. His teenager was painted as a hipster street thug and was clearly lacking in honesty. All of this made believing in the hypnosis scenes difficult. And, as a side note, his self-absorbed and exaggerated bow during curtain call reeked of narcissism and was off-putting.
Dr. Gene Brewer (yes, the author named the character after himself) is played by Pat Able, a good actor who was fettered by a weakly-written character. There were times when you could see Able starting to break the surface, but the weight of the script kept holding him under. He seemed to have difficulty deciding who Brewer was, and the tactics he would need to actualize it. This speaks more to the script and the director. Able had energy, and was invested emotionally, but his shotgun approach to finding a comfortable niche forced his focus to be too wide.
The other characters are, in my opinion, superfluous; if not by design, then by portrayal. Angelicque Cate plays Betty, the nurse who seems to serve no other purpose than to announce that a patient has arrived and to get cantankerous and snippy with Brewer. She does a pretty good job with what she had to work with. She did, however, rely on a southern twang from her vocal repertoire, which distracted from, rather than enhanced, her character. Steve Lord as the patient Chuck spoke in such quiet tones that it was difficult to hear him. The character seems to do nothing but make inappropriate scatological utterances, and not very well. It was as if he was suffering a case of meek Tourette's Syndrome-lite. He brought nothing new to this obligatory "psych ward" persona. He did better in his monologue, but like most of the other monologues, it was strictly time filler.
Peter Lemongelli did a nice job as Howie, another patient. He wore his character like a tight glove and was interesting to watch. Russ Devereaux played Ernie, the overly-twitchy OCD character that always appears in these "mental ward" shows. He did pretty well with the tried and true character, hitting the right notes for the most part and was passable with his monologue. He just needs to tone down the twitching in the initial scenes.
A "mental hospital" show is not complete without the character who hasn't spoken aloud since some life-shattering event in their past. The character Bess is right out of a Psychology 101 textbook, and is played by Angela Bend. Her scenes in the common room were appropriately catatonic. I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt and say she worked the nuances of an empty stare to perfection. It was that, or she was shutting down because of the mind-numbing pace of the on-stage action. She did the best job with her monologue, even though it's not a necessary component of the story, since it only estabishes back story for characters that could easily have been left out of the script, or minimized to simple tasks. K-PAX is, at its heart, a one-on-one of Prot and Brewer, and could have made a concise and compelling one-act.
Into this mix is thrown a reporter named Giselle, whose only purpose appears to be making goo-goo eyes at the alien. She serves as a conduit for a background check of Prot being done off stage by her unseen cohort (yes, it morphs into a detective story at one point). Again, I'm not sure why she became part of the story, which takes place in 2003 (established during a hypnosis scene when Brewer asks Prot to go back 5 years to 1998). They had Google back then and most of what she says to help the story along would be easily found during a computer search done by Betty. Kathy Richardson gives us Giselle through a lackluster performance that had no energy, emotion, commitment or basic stage craft. She is another one I had problems with hearing from the back row...which is only four rows from the stage. Her monologue was monotonous and monotone, and when there was an opportunity in the script for her to turn up the volume and energy, only her vocal pitch rose. The director should have corrected this before the show opened.
The pacing of the show was terribly slow. Director Eric Peter Schwartz should have instilled a sense of energy into the blocking, which was mostly lethargic. He needed to make the dialog snap, especially the scenes in the psychiatrist's office. The slow pace was exacerbated by the long blackouts between scenes. The one-person stage crew, garbed in a long-flowing blue outfit instead of the usual stage-crew black, moved with no sense of urgency to set up the next scene. She took her time putting up pictures on a wall to show the passage of time. It almost felt like days were passing as the audience sat in blackout. And she moved slowly. And then would start to leave the stage, only to turn around and come back because she forgot something. And she moved even more slowly. Many times, she erased something on a white board in the common room that you couldn't read in the first place because of the glare of the stage lights, and replaced it with something else you couldn't read. She erased and wrote slowly. And then left the stage.
Slowly.
In too many scenes, actors were upstaging each other. Entire conversations took place with one of the characters forced to keep their ass to the audience because the scene was played front to back, rather than side to side. Theatre is a visual and auditory medium, and I prefer to see the faces of the people talking.
As I've mentioned in other reviews, when the stage work is not compelling, my mind will wander to little things that I would normally ignore, like everyone moving with glacier-like speed during the curtain call and the anachronistic use of exploding fist bumps when Prot meets other patients. What you really want to know is the answer to this question: Is it worth the price of admission? Sadly, no.
Paid: $20
Worth: $8
Run time: 2 hours and 18 minutes, with intermission. They could knock 20 minutes off this with tighter direction, cue pick-ups, vocal and physical energy and getting the stage crew to move quickly during the blackouts.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Review: "The Book Of Liz" Albright Theatre, Batavia IL 4/23/10
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
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
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).
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