|
|
May 21 - June 29, 2008
Art
Reviewed June 8 by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 1:30 - no intermission
t Potomac Stages
Pick for superb ensemble work on an entertaining and intellectually
challenging play
Click here to buy the script |
Just like art, Art can be many things depending on the eye of the
beholder and the vision of the director. Jeremy Skidmore directs this production of Yasmina Reza's biggest hit
as a balanced combination of extremely funny comedy, a compellingly
interesting intellectual discussion, and an adult bonding tale of testing
and strengthening of friendship. The result is an extremely satisfying,
highly entertaining evening. Of course, Skidmore's task was made measurably
easier given the fact that he could cast Everyman Theatre company member
Bruce R. Nelson in one of the three roles and then give Chris Block (who is
so often so superb in supporting roles) a leading role to sink his teeth
into. There are no secondary roles in this play, just three evenly matched
staring roles. Add a cool touch in the person of Karl Kippola, and Skidmore
found himself with a stage full of talent.
Storyline: Three men who
have been good friends for years begin to argue over one’s purchase of a
piece of modern art – a painting consisting of white lines on a white
background – but the argument shifts to the nature of their friendship as
well as the nature of art itself.
The 1998 Tony Award winning “Best Play” was written in French by Yasmina
Reza and translated by Christopher Hampton (who goes strangely uncredited in
this production). It had a highly successful national tour and has been
drawing praise in productions at professional regional theaters, such as the
Olney Theatre Center, and in community theaters like the Little Theatre of
Alexandria. The text is so well constructed that it provides great material
for each of the three member cast and plenty of ideas worth exploring
further after the lights come up. It is a play for actors to stretch their
skills and then for theatergoers to extend the discussion on their way
home or at a nearby restaurant or bar.
Kippola is the sophisticate
who sets events in motion by purchasing, at a very high price, a work of
modern art which to him presents subtleties and satisfactions worth the
price. From the start, he establishes an image of cultured assurance which
could be insufferable, but which is softened by both an intellectual
curiosity and a genuine concern for the opinions of his friends. Block is
incisive as the friend who challenges his acquisition, apparently as
insulted by the fact that his friend didn’t consult with him before making
such a major purchase as at his own low opinion of the painting itself. In
this well balanced three-part piece, it is Nelson who is the standout among
equals as the third friend with problems of his own. He's already about to
explode under the stress of his impending marriage and then reacts to the
additional pressure of his two friends’ demands that he take sides in their
debate. His stream-of-consciousness tirade approaching break-down is manic
and drop-dead funny.
Dan Conway's white-on-white set allows the action to
flow easily between the homes of two of the three friends. It is as modern
an architectural construct as the painting at issue is modern visual art. He
dispenses with a technique used in other productions: the switching of
paintings to signal switches in locale. This maintains a near monochrome
feel that is echoed in Kathleen Geldard's costumes. It isn't an entirely
white world, there are dark leather chairs on the set and a touch of subdued
pastels in both Block's gold-toned shirt and Nelson's blue-ish jeans. But
color doesn't really intrude. Even Jay Herzog's lighting scheme maintains a
colorlessness except for the interpolated monologue sequences when cast
members turn to the audience to comment - then the lights turn warm and Chas
Marsh sneaks in a bit of music or sound effect to change the feel.
Written by Yasmina Reza. Directed by Jeremy Skidmore.
Design: Dan Conway (set) Kathleen Geldard (costumes) Liza Davies
(properties) Lewis Shaw (fight choreography) Jay A. Herzog (lights) Chas
Marsh (sound) Richard Anderson (photography) Amanda M. Hall (stage manager).
Cast: Chris Block, Karl Kippola, Bruce R. Nelson. |
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
|
August 28 - October 7, 2007
Sight Unseen
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 2:20 - one
intermission
Donald Margulies' dramatic exploration of the nature of art
and the role of
an artist
Click here to buy the script |
Seventeen days after Paul Morella ended his run at Olney playing one of
Donald Margulies' alter-ego/successful- artist characters in
Brooklyn Boy, he opened at Everyman playing one of Donald Margulies'
alter-ego/successful-artist characters in Sight Unseen, Margulies'
Obie Award winning breakout play. Comparisons couldn't be avoided even if it
had been seventeen years between productions. The plays were almost that far
apart in the writing - Sight Unseen dates to 1991 while Brooklyn
Boy was written thirteen years later and was clearly the product of a
more disciplined playwright who had strengthened his skills. Sight Unseen,
however, has all the signs of an early work by a tremendously talented
playwright with many better products yet to come. Morella, on the other
hand, isn't given much more to work with here than he was in the later, and
better-written one. His character changes from successful writer to
successful painter but he is still a man whose successes don't convince him
of his own self worth and whose life involves more than the artistic product
he sells.
Storyline: Just after the death of his father in New York and just before
the opening of an exhibit of his work in London, an artist so successful
that his paintings sell sight unseen visits his former lover and her husband
in their farmhouse in rural England in search of some connection with his
past and with what the years have brought.
Margulies writes the kind of sharp, character
revealing dialogue that an actor can sink his teeth into. In this early play
he exhibits a felicity for structure as well, with scenes played out in
something other than chronological order but with the time and place of each
easily understood by the audience. It sounds complicated, but with a helpful
assist from Daniel Ettinger's sets to keep place clear, and the text which
makes time clear, there's simply no difficulty following along as the story jumps back and forth between past and present.
With the same actor and actress playing the artist and
his former lover, the twenty-two year time span does pose a challenge.
Morella handles that challenge without difficulty, but without seeming to
adopt much in the way of different, more youthful mannerisms when his
character steps back nearly half a lifetime. His is an earnest,
intellectually stimulating, charming and genuinely human portrayal, just as
he delivered in Brooklyn Boy. This is only partially because
Morella's own stage persona is earnest, stimulating, charming and human. It
is also that Margulies wrote both parts with the same attributes. The former
lover is played with an appealing touch by Deborah Hazlett who makes a more
complex, more conflicted character out of her part. She also makes more of
the twenty-two year time span, giving her youthful moments a looser, less
mature set of postures and gestures. As a result, it is easier to see her as
the girl who grew up to be the grownup we meet in the farmhouse. The two
establish a chemistry that makes the attraction between them feel
real.
The other two members of the cast have something less
to work with in this script. Karen Novack does nicely with a mono-toned part
of an art journalist interviewing the artist on the occasion of a major
exhibit, but, as written, the part is simply a mouthpiece for some of
Margulies' points. Bob Rogerson is both entertaining and fascinating as the
husband of the former lover, but the very strengths of his performance
highlight some of the problems in Margulies' early writing. Here's a
character who is practically tongue tied in the first few minutes of the
play, a condition explained by the claim that he is "painfully shy." Just
minutes later, however, he is verbally clever with a biting wit in
conversation with the artist whom he never met before, and a few hours
of elapsed time later he is revealing intimate details that he's probably
never shared with another soul. Oh, but it is fun watching Rogerson deliver
those lines with such aplomb.
Written by Donald Margulies. Directed by Daniel De
Raey. Design: Daniel Ettinger (set) Yvette M. Ryan (costumes) Liza Davies
(properties) Jay Herzog (lights) Amy Wedel (sound) Stan Barouh (photography)
Amanda M. Hall (stage manager). Cast: Deborah Hazlett, Karen Novack, Paul
Morella, Bob Rogerson. |
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
|
May 15 - June 25,
2007
Betrayal
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Runnin time 1:30 - No
intermission
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for clarity and intensity
of the performances
Click here to buy the script |
Debarah Hazlett, Timmy Ray James and Whalen J.
Laurence deliver fascinating performances in Harold Pinter's triangle play.
Each is as interesting to watch for the reactions they show to the other's
lines as they are for their delivery of their own. The lines they are
delivering are Harold Pinter's and he is known for precision and brevity, so
each is like a shard in shattered glass. Then, there is the matter of the
"Pinter Pause." Few scripts exist that include the author's instruction to
pause as often. (A sample: "I told you that. Pause. Yes. Pause.")
Indeed, there are, by actual count, seventy nine pauses in this ninety
minute play. In the hands of Hazlett, James and Laurence, these pauses say
as much as any string of words in a sentence. Director Donald Hicken allows
those pauses to hang in the air, especially in the first two scenes until
you almost will the conversation to continue.
Storyline: Nine short
scenes zigzag backward in chronology to reveal the history of an
extramarital affair and its impact on a marriage and on the husband, the
wife and the wife’s lover who has been the husband’s best friend. Starting
with the breakup and ending at the party where the first pass was made, the
retrogression is fascinating even if the lack of a "tag" at what should be
the ending but is actually the beginning, means it ends with a whimper, not
a bang.
Pinter is certainly
not the first playwright to attempt a reverse order play. The concept has
fascinated writers practically since the dawn of drama. Think of Sophocles'
Oedipus Rex in which the king's history is slowly revealed. The old
standby, flash back, is a kind of reverse order technique. More rigorous
time reversals can also be found. More recently, consider Kaufman and Hart's
Merrily We Roll Along which George Furth and Stephen Sondheim turned
into a musical that starts at the end and works back to the beginning. There
has even been a forward/backward cris-cross play, Jason Robert Brown's The
Last Five Years which tracks a marriage as viewed in normal chronology by
the husband in interspersed scenes of the marriage in reverse chronology as
viewed by the wife.
Hazlett, James and Laurence do not create
people you would want to add to your inner circle of good friends, but each
of these imperfect characters comes to life in fascinating, believable
performances which are a pleasure to watch from afar. Laurence gives his
character of the best friend carrying on the long term affair a touch of
optimistic cluelessness that is intriguing, avoiding any touch of a
know-it-all who has careful control over his situation. It sets up James' more
manipulative cynical take nicely. A key to the way the triangle rings true
is Hazlett's attraction to and affection for each of these men in her life.
Daniel Ettinger's set is more a creation of
the sleek urban world of the trio than of a representation of any single
location. The bed which dominates the lovers' flat is also a bedroom of
the married couple's home, the dining room table of which is also the
restaurant where the men meet for lunch. It all has a gleaming polish to it
with reflective surfaces in which you catch a glimpse of a face, and glass
partitions through which you see approaches and exits. There's an openness
to it that matches Pinter's attempt to expose emotions. As each scene
begins, signs stating the location and the time ("Flat" "2005") are revealed
within the structure to help keep the audience oriented.
Written by Harold Pinter. Directed by Donald
Hicken. Design: Daniel Ettinger (set) Yvette M. Ryan (costumes) Jen Hoopes
(properties) Colin K. Bills (lights) Chas Marsh (sound) Stan Barouh
(photography) Amanda M. Hall (stage manager). Cast: Deborah Hazlett, Timmy
Ray James, Whalen J. Laurence, Jason Strunk. |
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
|
January 16 - February 25, 2007
Going to St.
Ives
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 1:50 - one intermission
t
A Potomac
Stages Pick for a riveting two-actress drama
Click here to buy the script |
As we have come to expect of a Lee Blessing play, language in this
engrossing two-woman drama is both the medium by which fascinating
characters and situations are communicated and a source of pleasure in its
own right. His precision of construction, exquisite word selection and sense
of rhythm yields a play which might well be a pleasure just to read or hear
read to you. Everyman's elegant production is much more than a reading,
however. With a sense of deliberate attention to detail in the performances
of a majestically dignified Lynn Chavis and a harrowingly pained but
superbly self-contained Kimberly Schraf on a pair of precisely proportioned
sets by Daniel Ettinger, Going to St. Ives is a captivating treasure.
Storyline: The mother of a dictator from an African "empire" travels to
St. Ives near London to seek treatment for a medical condition from a
specialist. The specialist is a woman who asks her help for four doctors
imprisoned by her son. The woman asks, in return, for poison she can use to
kill her son in order to bring and end to his evil dictatorship.
This is the Potomac Region premiere of Lee Blessing's
other two-character play. He's best known, of course, for the two-actor A
Walk In The Woods which brought him nominations for both the Pulitzer
and the Tony (and which earned Robert Prosky his Tony Award). Here it is a
two-actress play, a confrontation between the mother of an African dictator and a British doctor.
It treats subjects as serious as that other two-character play and is as
well constructed, but doesn't feel at all like an attempt to imitate or
repeat. Instead, it has its own identity and delivers its own pleasures.
Two actress plays can only be as good as two
actresses are. In Lynn Chavis and Kimerly Schraf, Everyman has two actresses
capable of making the play every bit as good as Blessing's script allows.
Each creates a distinct and highly textured portrait of a distinctive and
highly fascinating woman. Each would be fascinating to know outside of the
confines of the events of the play. Together, they establish a rapport based
on respect for the other's intelligence and seriousness of purpose even as
they contemplate positions each would find impossible to conceive prior
to their interaction.
Daniel Ettinger's contribution to the overall
feel of the piece is substantial. His seemingly simple, realistic set of the
sitting room in the doctor's home in England says a great deal about the
character of the doctor even before Schraf makes her entrance. Then, in the
second act, the location switches to the garden terrace of Chavis'
character's home in Africa. The proportions of the space remain the same,
just as the worlds of the two women have somehow assumed the same
proportions. Sound design can help a play work some of this magic. Before
the show begins and throughout intermission sound designer Neil McFadden
fills the theater with music of a distinctly British feel (Elgar, perhaps?
Or Bantock?) As the lights begin to fade for the second act, the music
shifts to drums. "Oh, we're in Africa now" the woman to my right said to her
companion. Instantly, they knew the story had shifted hundreds or thousands
of miles to a different world. Such is the power of music.
Written by Lee Blessing. Directed by Juanita
Rockwell. Design: Daniel Ettinger (set) Kathleen Geldard (costumes) Liza
Davies (properties) Jay Herzog (lights) Neil McFadden (sound) Stan Barouh (photography) Amanda M.
Hall (stage manager). Cast: Lynn Chavis, Kimberly Schraf. |
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
|
September 5 - October 15, 2006
Opus |
Running time 1:35 - no intermission
t A Potomac
Stages Pick for enormous intelligence in exploring the art of making music
A Potomac Region premiere
Click here to buy the CD of Opus 131 |
The essence of Michael Hollinger's play, which is receiving a captivating
Potomac Region premiere, is an examination of collegial creation. When the
objective is artistic expression, how do multiple individuals reach a
consensus on every aspect of a performance? The play begins with an exchange
of definitions of a string quartet. Some are simple dictionary definitions
("a group of four musicians") and some are frivolous attempts at humor. One,
however, sets the tone for the play. "Four instruments played by a single
bow" is the goal of the members of the fictitious "Lazzara Quartet" (An in
joke? The script has the group named for the historic instruments they play,
but there is a Jamie Lazzara currently making soloist-quality violins in
Italy.) The actors who perform as the musicians in the quartet have
something of the same task as their characters. While they explore the magic
of collegial creation of the musical type, they have to accomplish a
collegial performance of the dramatic type. Under John Vreeke's intelligent
direction, they accomplish their goal.
Storyline: Three members of a successful string quartet have dismissed
the other member of the group and are auditioning candidates for the post.
Simultaneously, they are preparing for a performance at the White House
which will be telecast to the largest audience they have ever reached. They
find a replacement and select Beethoven's String Quartet No.14, Opus 131,
one of the most challenging masterpieces in the cannon of chamber music. As
they rehearse for the performance, the characters of the five - the three
continuing members of the quartet plus the replacement and the replaced -
are tested by professional and artistic stresses.
Mr. Hollinger is a classically trained violist who traded
playwriting for music making, and is best known for
An Empty Plate in the Cafe du
Grand Boeuf which was a Potomac Stages Pick when it was produced at
the Washington Stage Guild earlier this year. That bright and literate
comedy/fantasy shares the strengths of storyline and precise language with
this newer piece. This script, although it pursues a much
more serious theme, is not devoid
of humor. Indeed, it is the sharp exchange of barbs and the occasional
ironic aside that gives this examination of serious subjects such vigor,
vitality and a sense of personal truth. These are intelligent, determined people dealing
with issues that are of supreme importance to them, sometimes through humor but more often through honest
and impassioned argument. Not only do they face major artistic and
professional challenges, each faces a personal crisis. It is a tribute to
Mr. Hollinger's skill at play structuring that these crises seem the natural
state of affairs for five mature, successful artists rather than mere
convenience for the playwright. In the process, he gives us a very rare
insight into the process of artistic creation. Anyone who has ever marveled
at the unity a group can achieve when the performance of a complex work is
at its best will find incidents, comments and revelations that resonate
beautifully in this work. Hollinger avoids any hint of a lecture on musical
appreciation, however. This is pure entertainment. He does make a
small slip when he has one musician praise the acoustics of the
Concertgebouw in Amsterdam saying "play a chord there and it goes on
forever." Such a long delay time might help a symphony orchestra but would
pose a frustrating problem for the precise interchanges of a string quartet.
Everyman's cast is superb, each establishing and then
developing a distinct personality, and each reacting to the others in a
complex, multi-layered display of dramatic styles. Peter Wray gives the lead
violinist a brittle metallic veneer which plays against the sharper, hurt
and defensive posture that Karl Kippola uses as the dismissed violinist who
shares more than a professional history with him. Kyle Prue lends a more
earthy and world-wise sense to the member whose divorce is a result of his
yielding to the temptations of the one-night stops of lengthy world tours,
while Stephen Patrick Martin slowly builds his role in the ensemble from
supportive foil to major mover in measured steps. McKenzie Bowling mixes up
the all-male group with her arrival both as an actress among actors and as
the female violinist who wins the open slot in the quartet. Wray has one
moment that sums up the passion musicians seek in performance when he reacts
to Bowling's statement that she'd never played the Beethoven work before.
The look on his face before he delivers the line "How I envy you!" says it
all.
It seems almost pre-ordained that this play about a
quartet should be staged on a square performing space with the audience on
all sides. It is a four-sided battle of wills with one side shifting between
the dismissed Kippola and the newly hired Bowling. There are times when
James Kronzer's elegant wood flooring set seems most like a boxing ring and
others when it seems most like a concert hall. He adds touches that enhance
the image at key points including suspended ceiling frames that expand the
visage, and recessed fixtures in the floor to accommodate some of lighting
designer Jay
Herzog's effective touches. Properties designer Liza Davies had the
unenviable duty to come up with not only some lovely looking musical
instruments which would be handled with loving care during the performance
but one that would have to suffer an indignity which will not be disclosed
here. She acquitted herself admirably. More than light, set or costume
design, however, this play is most vulnerable to any deficiencies in sound
design. It is a good thing, then, that Everyman has as its resident sound
designer Chas Marsh, and a sound system that could reproduce the performances
of the real-life Vertigo String Quartet recorded for the play's world
premiere at the Arden Theatre Company in Philadelphia. The result was nearly
flawless.
Written by Michael Hollinger. Directed by John Vreeke.
Design: James Kronzer (set) Yvette M. Ryan (costumes) Liza Davies
(properties) Jay Herzog (lights) Chas Marsh (sound) Stan Barouh
(photography) Amanda M. Mall (stage manager). Cast: McKenzie Bowling, Karl
Kippola, Stephen Patrick Martin, Kyle Prue, Peter Wray.
|
|
|
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
|
March 14 - April 23, 2006
A Number |
Reviewed April 5
Running time: 1:00 - no intermission
An absorbing short play raising contemporary questions
Click here to buy the script |
It may take you the full hour of this one-act play to turn your attention
from the superb set design to the high voltage performance of the cast of
two: Bill Hamlin as the father and Kyle Prue, Kyle Prue, Kyle Prue (and
maybe more Kyle Prues) as his son(s). You see, the issue here is cloning and
Prue is all of the clones - just how many can be the subject of a great
post-show conversation. Daniel Ettinger has designed a canted pair of
mirrored walls that lets you watch Hamlin and Prue, Prue and Prue from the
front, the right, the left and above simultaneously. Such duplication fits
the play as well as it fits the intimate space of Everyman. It turns what
might be an exercise in confusion into an absorbing, intense hour.
Storyline: A young man discovers that he is,
in fact, but one of a number of clones created out of the genetic material
of his father's first son, who died at an early age. The father, however,
claims to have been unaware that more than one copy was created, and neither
father nor son are quite sure which "son" is even the original clone.
Playwright Caryl Churchill, author of
Cloud Nine,
Far Away
and Top Girls,
seems to specialize in plays that start out with fabulous concepts
digging into intriguing questions. The longer they last, however, the less
captivating they seem to become. In this play, she seems to attempt to solve
that problem by keeping it short, building it so that it doesn't last long
enough to become unfocused or predictable. She has an impeccable ear for the
tendency of many to drop the ends of their sentences, halting either when
they think they have said enough to start the thought or when interrupted by
another thought - their own or someone else's. That may well be a way to
make dialogue sound authentic, but it forces the author to make sure she
gets enough of each thought into the early part of the sentence to give the
audience a clue as to what the full thought might be.
High voltage is the tool this cast uses to connect all
those incomplete thoughts together. It gives the entire hour a feeling of
minds rushing on from one thought to the next. No sooner has an idea
surfaced than its ramifications spark reconsideration or the next logical
step. For the actors, without very many complete sentences to deliver,
something of a shotgun approach is required to keep the piece moving. If one
doesn't interrupt the other, the incomplete sentences become dangling
participles, but a well timed interruption turns the same few words into an
emphatic exclamation, interjecting a thought into a heated environment.
Hamlin and Prue work with and not against each other to accomplish this.
Their collaboration is fascinating to watch.
As intriguing and successful as is the design of the
set, especially under the extremely effective lighting of Colin Bills, a
single choice by costume designer Kathleen Geldard throws a wrench into the
visual success of the show. Prue's multiple characters are signaled by
different costumes - at least above the waist. First he's in a sweatshirt,
then he's in a leather jacket, finally he's in a sport shirt. So far, so
good. But the sweatshirt has a distinctive pattern at the neck which is
visible even when he's wearing the jacket, giving the audience a false clue.
Has the son in the first scene simply put on a jacket or is this a different
son? With a play this short and this full of challenges to the audience to
figure out what has happened, a false clue is the last thing they need.
Written by Caryl Churchill. Directed by Vincent M.
Lancisi. Design: Daniel Ettinger (set) Kathleen Geldard (costumes) Colin K.
Bills (lights) Chas Marsh (sound) Stan Barouh (photography) Laura Smith
(stage manager). Cast: Bill Hamlin, Kyle Prue. |
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
|
November 8 - December 18, 2005
Someone
Who'll Watch Over Me |
Reviewed November 11
Running time 2:15 - one intermission
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for a thoughtful view of
human resiliency in captivity
Click here to buy the script |
This month, as the United States Senate debates US policy
on detention and treatment of people apprehended in the Middle East, two
very different productions are playing on stages in the Potomac Region
dealing in theatrical terms with some of the issues that are playing out on
our front pages. While Studio Theatre in Washington is dramatizing the fate
of four British residents held by the U.S. in the play
Guantanamo, Everyman in Baltimore is
presenting this examination of the human spirit through the stories of three
prisoners held in the Middle East. While the play at Studio is really most
concerned with the policies involved, this play by Irish playwright Frank
McGuinness, deals with the psyche of the three men held hostage. It is
emotionally involving and hard to watch, but an absolutely fascinating
evening of theater.
Storyline: Three men are imprisoned in the
Middle-East, chained to the wall of a basement in Lebanon with no real
understanding of why, or what will become of them. One is English, one Irish
and one American. They each react differently to the terror of their
situation and come to know and rely on one another - until one is killed by
their captors and another released.
The inspiration for the play was the case of Brian
Keenan, taken hostage in 1986 in Lebanon where he taught at the American
University of Beirut, and not released until 1990. While McGuinness changes
the names of the prisoners, much of the set up to the story is true to
history. It isn't history that concerns McGuinness so much, however, as it is the
question of how the human spirit handles such terror and deprivation. That is
at the heart of McGuinness' script as these three men search their psyches
for coping mechanisms that will work for them. Do they trust each other or
avoid further disaster through silence and secrecy? How, then, can the bond
that is inevitably forged survive separation either through release or
death?
Three superb performances by strong actors mark this
production. Richard Pilcher is the Englishman whose stiff upper lip trembles
with both fear and rage. His Irish counterpart is Aubrey Deeker, who
struggles visibly to understand what is happening to him as an intellectual
puzzle, while at the same time, trying to find the strength to survive.
Jefferson A. Russell is the most physical of the trio, an American who is
bound and determined to rise above it all through his own faith in his own
strength.
Milagros Ponce de León constructs a striking set
that serves the production well. Her one-room basement is a rust stained,
cracked plaster and broken tile hell to which the prisoners have been
condemned in the scraggly wardrobe well represented by Kathleen Geldard's
costumes. Indeed, the lighting and sound designs also impress as the entire
package feels just right. That is why it is so startling that properties
designer Jen Hoopes provides modern-looking ribbed plastic water bottles
(with labels that include nutrition information, no less) when Brian
Keenan's own statements included the fact that he was allowed once a day to
fill his battered water bottle.
Written by Frank McGuinness. Directed by Juanita
Rockwell. Design: Milagros Ponce de León (set) Kathleen Geldard (costumes)
Jen Hoopes (properties) Colin K. Bills (lights) Chas Marsh (sound) Stan
Barouh (photography) Laura Smith (stage manager). Cast: Aubery Deeker,
Richard Pilcher, Jefferson A. Russell. |
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
|
May 17 - June 26, 2005
Frankie and
Johnny in the Clair de Lune |
Reviewed May 20
Running time 2:05 - one intermission
Nudity and Intimate Situations
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for two memorable performances in a superbly written
play
Click here to buy the script
|
What more could you ask? This production offers two
intensely human characters with strong personalities, interesting histories
and intriguing imperfections getting together in a simultaneously charming
and very believable situation portrayed by two performers of great skill.
Well, perhaps you could ask for a more bite in the characterizations to give
more of a feeling that this is the last chance for people on-the-brink of
being losers. Still, the package
offered up by Everyman is nearly irresistible for adults who can accept
nudity and intimacy in a non-pornographic, honest presentation. It is a
Frankie and Johnny for romantics, not for skeptics. It will capture anyone
who has experienced love at first sight, or just hopes to.
Storyline: After their first date, a waitress and a short order cook have
returned to her apartment and gone to bed together. After making love, she
is ready to have him leave so she can have her privacy back. On the other
hand, he thinks he knows a good thing when he sees it, has fallen in love,
and has no intention of leaving.
The movie had a much more attractive pair (Al Pacino
and Michelle Pfeiffer) than the original Off-Broadway presentation (Kathy
Bates and Kenneth Welsh). Here, with Zachary Knower and Deborah Hazlett, Everyman
follows the attractive couple approach. It also provides
a set which makes the waitress' one room "walk-up tenement" in New York's
"Hells Kitchen" seem rather more spacious and well appointed than
might actually have been the case at 53rd and 10th in 1987. Director Vincent
M. Lancisi focuses the play on the present, on the almost real-time
presentation of those few hours that Frankie and Johnny came under the spell
of the moonlight (and of the music of French composer Debussy which he
titled "clair de lune" - French for "moonlight"). Lancasi could have
focused on the pain of their past - its all there in the text about his failed
marriage and criminal record and her abusive former lover. He could have focused on
the promise of the future Johnny believes in and finally gets Frankie to
see. That is all in the text too. Instead, he balances the two, with the discussions of the past carrying
the same
weight as the visions of the future, and for that matter, of discussions of how to make a "western down."
Just as the
smell of the actual cooking of that western permeates the theater, getting
the digestive juices flowing for those who didn't eat before the show, so
the talk of prison and wounds and marriage and kids get the imaginative
juices flowing, adding spice and richness to those moments under the
moonlight
As Frankie, Hazlett is quite effective at being slowly
convinced not only that Johnny is serious in his protestations of what might
in more polite society be his "honorable intentions," but that he actually
offers an escape from a meaningless existence. (She has the fabulous line
about wanting a life that would keep her birth from being as meaningless as
her death.) She also manages the not insignificant trick of playing the
opening scene in the completely exposed nude but being able to make her
modesty once she dons her robe seem completely natural and unforced.
As the born romantic, Johnny, Knower has the somewhat
more difficult part in that it is clear from the moment the lights come up
that he has already fallen in love and determined that this Frankie is the
woman with whom he wants to share the rest of his life. While Hazlett's
character undergoes a transformation, his just keeps on pitching until he
wins. The persistence is the key. (His fabulous line is the one about people
getting "only one chance, not two, not three . . . and this is it.") He finds just the right balance between
determination and understanding to keep the part from becoming pushy.
Together, they make a couple you want to see get and stay together under the
moonlight and into the light of day.
Written by Terrence McNally. Directed by Vincent M.
Lancisi. Design: Robin Stapley (set) Debra Kim Sivigny (costumes) Jen Hoopes
(properties) Jay A. Herzog (lights) Chas Marsh (sound) Stan
Barouh (photography) Amanda M. Hall (stage manager). Cast: Deborah
Hazlett, Zachary Knower. |
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
|
March 15 - April 24, 2005
Yellowman |
Reviewed
April 13
Running time 2:15 - One Intermssion
General Admission Seating
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for
unique subject matter and emotional impact
Click
here to buy the
script |
It takes a while to realize that this evening is going to evolve into
something more than a pleasant getting-to-know-you session with two
intriguing characters. Playwright Dael Orlandersmith's script begins with
beguiling, self-revealing confessions in alternating monologues delivered
directly to the audience by the two characters as if each is doing a
solo-performance piece. The thread that ties them together is the subject of
color prejudice, but it is an aspect of the subject not often dealt with on
stage. The color prejudice here isn't whites against blacks or even blacks
against whites - both of which have been the topic of innumerable plays. No.
Here the distinction is the amount of blackness among blacks - the mixture
of envy and rejection between those of darker and those of lighter shades.
Only after you get to know and care about these young people do their
stories go beyond reminiscence and reach an intensity with a plot
development that has the impact of a blow to the solar plexus.
Storyline: Alma and
Eugene were two black kids growing up together in the Carolinas. She was
raised to consider her dark blackness and thick features a mark of ugliness
and ungainliness inherited from her mother. He was raised in a home where
his father was jealous of his lighter skin color and delicate features.
Their affection for each other grew from friendship in childhood to romantic
attachment in young adulthood in part because each represented for the other
the only person who saw beneath skin color and valued them for inner
qualities.
The virtues of Orlandersmith's play begin with
an intriguing subject that is rarely addressed, proceed to the highly
intelligent structuring of the storytelling, and culminate in the human
qualities of the characters she creates. As if that isn't enough, add a
poetic expressiveness given unique voice by her selection of locale, and you
have quite a package for the cast of two to sink their teeth into. Most of
the action takes place on the sea islands of South Carolina where the Gullah
patois, a blend of pidgin English and West African words, lends a richness
to the dialogue. Orlandersmith's ear for how the remnants of that language
affects the speaking style of her many characters is keen, and she uses it to
enhance the picture of life on these isolated islands.
Paul Nicholas is the
Yellowman of this production, or more precisely, the high-yellow man. His
progress from youngster at play in an elementary school yard to young adult
dealing with the desire for escape from stifling expectations is an
impressive piece of performance art. Dawn Ursula is the darker, bigger, more
ungainly girl/woman he grows to love. She obviously treasures the poetic
elements of her role, delivering some of Orlandersmith's most descriptive
observations with a deep sense of respect. She builds her character well but
does suffer just a bit from the fact that she, Ursula, happens to be
smaller, finer and more attractive in the fashion of the time than her
character is supposed to be. Still, she overcomes the burden of beauty on
the surface by demonstrating the beauty beneath.
Regge Life's staging is
simplicity itself. A set composed of wood planking, and the minimal costume
changes called for in the script. Of course, in theater, simplicity is
sometimes the most difficult thing to pull off. Here, the world of the
characters in South Carolina and in their sojourn to New York is built from
subtle changes in lighting and the eloquent projections subtlely displayed on a wood
siding panel over the performers' heads. The physical production supports
the two performers without creating distractions. The result is a production
that feels just right for a script that deserves no less.
Written by Dael
Orlandersmith. Directed by Regge Life. Design: Can Conway (set) Kathleen
Geldard (costumes) Jay A. Herzog (lights) Chas Marsh (sound) Stan Barouh
(photography) Laura Smith (stage manager). Cast: Paul Nicholas, Dawn Ursula. |
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
|
November 9 - December 19, 2004
The Drawer
Boy |
Reviewed December 11
Running time 2:00 - one intermission
t A Potomac
Stages Pick for
an absorbing story well told
Click here to buy the script |
There is something special
about an author's first full length play when it is this good. This sweetly
human, genuinely touching and thoroughly engaging three character piece
draws you into a world populated by people you want to know, and involves you
in their world, their histories and their lives in a way that is unique to
live theater. You can’t get this satisfaction from television. You can’t get
it from movies. You can’t get it from literature. It takes the magic of the
words and ideas that spring from the mind of a playwright being brought to
life by real human beings occupying the same space and the same time with
you to create this kind of fusion of audience and creation. The intimacy of
Everyman's small house works to this play's advantage, and director Nick Olcott uses the well detailed farm house set as much as a backdrop as a
playing space, with much of the action staged in the yard in front of the
house's kitchen and mudroom.
Storyline: A young actor with no experience on a farm comes to live and work
with two farmers in Canada’s Ontario Province as research for a play. The
farmers have been together since their youth when one was injured, loosing
short term memory but retaining an extraordinary intelligence. The other has
acted as his protector for all of their adult life. The actor’s
probing questions begin to reveal truths behind the farmers’ history that
one has tried to keep from the other.
The extraordinarily
absorbing script by Canadian actor/writer Michael Healey is filled with
gentle humor, touching humanity and revealing details which deepen the
portrait of the two farmers as the evening progresses. The naïveté of the
young actor gives rise to very funny segments as the experienced farmer
delights in misleading him and giving him absurd assignments in a kind of
hazing that is in no way mean-spirited. The relationship between the
farmers, friends since childhood and partners since the accident, emerges
slowly but honestly with no apparently artificial detours in the simple
storytelling style of the author.
The two farmers are portrayed with an honest
generosity by Everyman regulars Bruce R. Nelson and Frederick Strother.
Nelson adopts a habit of staring off into space from time to time as his
character's mind wanders which is very effective. Both allow their
characters to develop over the course of the evening, never pushing too hard
on a point too early. Theirs are measured, thoughtful portrayals that work
very well indeed. The visiting actor is played by Evan Casey, a visiting
actor at Everyman. He takes a broader approach to the comedy of the part
than his colleagues, but works well with them in scene after scene.
The world of these farmers in Ontario in 1982
is nicely recreated with Daniel Ettingers' farm house set occupying less
than the full width of the stage. This concentrates the attention center
stage which helps in a small-cast piece like this. Ettinger provides the
audience
on the extreme sides of the house with views of the outside walls of the
central structure. Since there is no closed curtain to hide the set as the
audience enters, this also helps establish a sense of reality for
those who look over the setting as they enter the hall. This sense is enhanced by little details such as the aging copy of a Farmer's
Almanac on the table in the sitting area, the choice of desert boots for the
young actor who has no idea of what life on a farm is like, and the cows
bellowing in stereo in Sarah Washburn's sound design.
Written by Michael Healey. Directed by Nick
Olcott. Design: Daniel Ettinger (set) Barbara Kahl (costumes) Jen Hoopes
(props) Michael D. Klima (lights) Sarah Washburn (sound) Stan Barouh
(photography) Che Wernsman (stage
manager). Cast: Evan Casey, Bruce R. Nelson, Frederick Strother.
|
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
|
May 21 - June 20, 2004
Jacques Brel
is Alive and Well and Living in Paris |
Reviewed May 21
Running time 2 hours 5 minutes
Click here to buy the CD |
This has been widely reported to be Everyman's
first musical. I beg to differ. This is a very well performed revue of songs
of the Parisian vocalist whose style became synonymous with the cabaret
clubs of Paris in the 50s and 60s. Everyman does a fine job of this fist
revue but it still has yet to do a musical. The differences are too
important to ignore. This is not a play that uses songs to establish period
and locale, reveal character, advance the plot and comment on major themes.
It is a collection of songs, each of which stands on its own merits. In this
case, those merits are strong and, as a result, the show works. An
audience arriving expecting one thing is likely to be disappointed if it
gets a different thing entirely. If, on the other hand, patrons know exactly
what to expect they can sit back and enjoy a well done production from the
very first note.
Storyline: Rather than a storyline running the course of the evening,
this is a collection of nearly thirty songs, each of which has a strong
storyline of its own. What they have in common is their authorship and the
fact that they nearly are all about people's need for love - that
oh-so-Parisian subject. They are all by Brel, a Belgian who moved to Paris
in 1952 and learned the tricks of the cabaret trade that he used to write
and perform songs that made him a recording star from the mid 50s to the
late 60s.
One of Brel's talents was the distillation of
a storyline into a poem that could be set to music. Each has a plot
featuring a beginning, a middle and an end. Each has a specific setting and
one or more characters who are human, complex and recognizable. That is one
reason his songs fit so well on a theater stage and why they benefit from
being staged rather than just sung. Musically, Brel's songs use a formula
familiar to anyone who has ever listened to a Parisian love song, but he uses
the formula with different tempos and rhythms. The formula is the
application of a simple melodic theme repeated at different steps on a
scale. In this way, the listener identifies the pattern of the theme early
in the song and can concentrate on the lyrics while the changing pitch keeps
things from becoming repetitious and boring. It is a formula that
people as diverse as Charles Aznavour, Cole Porter, Rod McKuen and Frank
Wildhorn have all used to craft a song intended to feel Parisian.
Everyman has assembled a cast with a great
deal of talent and given the directing assignment to Donald Hicken whose
impressive biography is heavy on dramas but lists few, if any, musicals.
That's not a bad thing, for the strength of this production is the treatment
of the songs as scenes. They are fully staged with appropriate interaction
between the performers which provides visual and dramatic variety.
Christopher Bloch may be the best of the bunch with his winning assortment
of character traits. Sally Martin has a fine way with a torch song and
Amanda Johnson is at her best on the more light hearted material. Dan
Manning overplays a few bits but puts moves into the song "Jackie" that
makes one think the song is about Jackie Gleason.
The musical direction of James R. Fitzpatrick
who leads an on-stage quartet is sensitive and precise. He gets clean, clear
enunciation from all four of the singers and fine support from the
instrumentalists, most particularly Greg Herron who leaves his percussionist
position on a few numbers to embellish them with his sonorous marimba
playing. Fitzpatrick's own piano work is tasteful as well. However, all
of this marvelous music is delivered to the audience through an
amplification system that makes almost all of the notes come across as being
at the same volume. The efforts of the vocalists and instrumentalists to
shade the dynamics of their numbers is defeated by the system. The program
credits set, lighting and costume designers but lists no sound designer --
apparently they didn't have one.
It is an unfortunate absence.
Music and Lyrics by Jacques Brel. Production
conception, English lyrics and additional material by Eric Blau and Mort
Shuman. Directed by Donald Hicken. Musical direction by James R.
Fitzpatrick. Design: Wally Coberg (set) Debra K. Sivigny (costumes) Jay A.
Herzog (lights) Stan Barouh (photography) Amanda M. Hall (stage manager).
Cast: Christopher Bloch, Amanda Johnson, Dan Manning, Sally Martin.
Musicians: James R. Fitzpatrick, Ed Goldstein, Greg Herron, Chas Marsh. |
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
|
January 30 - March 6,
2004
Proof |
Reviewed February 18
Running time 2 hours 15 minutes
t
A Potomac Stages Pick
for intellectually stimulating
and emotionally satisfying fare
|
Proof is known for its success at making intellectually gifted people seem
entirely approachable. It gets the exhilaration of the pursuit of
knowledge just right. But geniuses are people too, with hopes, fears, loves
and losses. This warm, fascinating and funny play draws you into
the personal world of intelligent people who are facing major crises in
their personal lives. Presented in this intimate theater, it takes on even
more power to engage the emotions as well as the intellect of an audience
that, at least at the performance we attended, arrived with their
expectations sky high. After all, audiences at Everyman expect quality work
on serious properties, and this one has already extended its run. It was
clear from the reactions, with laughter in all the right places and
heartfelt applause after each scene, that the expectations were not just
met, they were exceeded.
Storyline:
The twenty-five year old daughter of a famous mathematician has spent five
years caring for her father as mental illness progressively incapacitated
him. On the eve of his funeral she has to cope not only with his death, but
with the concern of her sister, the attention of one of her father’s
graduate students and the lingering presence of her father in their Chicago
home. She may have inherited some of her father’s genius but she fears she
may have also inherited his "tendency to instability."
The role of the daughter is the centerpiece of the play. In Megan Anderson,
Everyman's production has a superb actress at the
evening's core. Her light
touch with a flippantry, deeply felt pauses over her character's self
doubts, incendiary flashes of temper and frustration and her ability to
match Robert McClure in creating a real sense of sexual attraction based on
both intellectual and physical compatibility is marvelous to watch. The
contrast between her informal, youthful body language and the precise and
controlled posture of Deborah Hazlett as her sister in their first scene
together is an example of collaboration at its finest. Anderson also manages
to create great familial chemistry with Carl Schurr as the father of her
memories.
As
fabulous as the cast is, they happen to be working with a script that
creates four well-defined people with dreams, fears, histories and opinions,
whose dealings with each other are the natural results of their
personalities and circumstances. It is all there in the text. This is no
easy task as any playwright will attest, and Auburn gets it right in his
very first major play. He also comes up with one of the great first-act
curtain lines of recent memory.
With a mathematical "proof" at the center of
the story, Auburn turns his title into a double entandré. There is little
actual discussion of higher mathematics, so the audience need not even know
what a prime number might be in order to follow the discussions. There is
never a sense that the author is "talking down" to the audience or
artificially keeping the discussion non-technical. A welcome improvement to
the original text in this production is the elimination of the one awkward
effort to avoid technical details, a fairly clumsy "lets go for a walk and
you can tell me what this means" moment which proves to be superfluous. The
play is the better for its absence.
Written by David Auburn.
Directed by Vincent M. Lancisi. Design: Daniel Ettinger (set) LeVonne
Lindsay (costumes) Sarah Washburn (properties) Jay A. Herzog (lights) Chas
Marsh (sound) Stan Barouh (photography) Amanda M. Hall (stage manager).
Cast: Megan Anderson, Deborah Hazlett, Robert McClure, Carl Schurr.
|
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
|
September 3 - October 5, 2003
Hedda Gabler |
Reviewed September 5
Running time 2 hours 35 minutes
t
Potomac Stages Pick
|
There is an intimacy to this production of Ibsen’s
second-most-famous play that comes both from the physical dimensions of the
theater and the translation by Jon Robin Baitz that eschews grandiose
verbiage in favor of conversational language. The feeling that you are
witnessing actual events rather than a play keeps sneaking up on you only to
be dispelled by the dramatic nature of the events that transpire in the 36
hours encapsulated in the two and a half hours you actually spend watching.
Ibsen is known as the father of naturalism on stage and this production
takes that to its logical conclusion with naturalistic acting and literal
design only to yield to the temptation to dramatize in the final moment, as
Dan Conway’s marvelous monochrome set splits apart and Baitz’ language soars
with Ibsen’s famous tag line “people don’t do such things.”
Storyline: Christiania (now Oslo) Norway, 1890. Returning from her honeymoon
with her scholarly husband , the former Hedda Gabler tries to take up
residence in the oh-so-bland world of her new husband. Her past won’t be
ignored, however. Her former lover has written a book which may threaten her
new husband’s career prospects and another man from her past wants to
re-establish his claim on her. She thinks she has found a way to ensure her
husband’s success and protect her reputation at the same time when the only
copy of the manuscript of the threatening book falls into her hand.
Those
who had the inestimable pleasure of watching Judith Light assay the role of
Ibsen’s Gabler at the Shakespeare Theatre two years ago under Michael Kahn’s
direction will find this production a revelation. Kahn’s institutionally
impressive staging constantly reminded you that you were watching a
masterpiece of modern theater. Here, on the other hand, director Vincent M.
Lancisi puts aside any theatrical excess to create a reality fascinating to
watch but at times so intense you want to look away. The language of this
translation falls easily on modern ears although it briefly feels as if it
has switched into a soap opera mode for about ten minutes after
intermission, as a great deal of plot information is presented in a very
brief span.
Deborah Hazlett’s Hedda is a trapped animal - but the animal is of a very
human variety. She’s a scheming, plotting creature. The challenge for any
actress, aided of course by Ibsen’s text, is to make her human enough that
the audience doesn’t reject her out of hand. Ibsen gives clues in that text
but it takes an actress of skill and not a little subtlety to turn those
clues into visible guideposts that let the audience understand just how
different the life Hedda is facing is from the life she believed she had
every reason to expect. Hazlett has the skills and uses them to create a
memorable portrait.
Director Vincent Lancisi goes for atmosphere in a big way, but does it with
subtlety. The wordless first scene, the blackouts leaving just the light of
a real oil lamp, Jay Herzog’s near-moonlight silver light streaming through
the window between scenes, Chas Marsh’s touch of reverberation on the
keyboard rendition of classical piano chamber music, and Gail Beach’s
restrained palette in the costumes to match the ash grays of Conway’s set
all combine in a world the fine cast inhabits. And the cast is very good
indeed, especially a subtly smarmy John Lescault, Vivienne Shub who brings a
touch of wit to the part of Hedda’s husband's old aunt, and Maia DeSanti who
travels the widest range of emotions of them all. Her slight loss of balance
as she delivers the line “I have no idea what I’ll do - it’s all blackness
and shadows” as she discovers the tragedy which has befallen her is a
beautiful touch.
Written by Henrik Ibsen.
Adapted by Jon Robin Baitz. Directed by Vincent M. Lancisi. Design: Dan
Conway (set) Gail Beach (costumes) Tim Jones (properties) Jay Herzog
(lights) Chas Marsh (sound) Stan Barouh (photography) Amanda M. Hall (stage
manager). Cast: Marianne Angelella, Maia DeSanti, Deborah Hazlett, John
Lescault, Bruce R. Nelson, Jefferson A. Russell, Vivienne Shub.
|
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
|
January 16 – February 16, 2003
Light Up the Sky |
Reviewed February 1
Running time 2 hours 25 minutes |
Moss Hart was certainly writing about a world
that he knew well when he wrote thisthree
act comedy about being out of town for a new show’s pre-Broadway tryouts. He
had already been out of town with such classic comedies as You Can’t Take it With You and The
Man Who Came to Dinner and musicals like Lady in the Dark and
As Thousands Cheer. In Light Up the Sky he turns his comic eye on
the stereotypes of The Director, The Star and The Producer while indulging
in a bit of wish-fulfillment with the character who represents himself, The
Writer. Everyman takes the piece at face value, giving it a first class,
sumptuous production with energy, style and a lot of laughs. It isn’t their
fault that the script turns preachy at the end.
Storyline: It all takes place in
the hotel room of the star of a new play on opening night. First is “That
Magic Time” as the characters gather for a pre-show toast . Later there are
the fears and insecurities as they await the reviews – the judgments of
“those seven middle-aged men on the aisle who hated Mickey Mouse as a kid.”
Then the reviews come out and the team enters the final phase of playmaking
– the re-writes.
Hart’s characters are broadly drawn and some can be quite a challenge for a
performer either to rise above the stereotype or to resolve conflicting
elements. This cast is up to that challenge. Kimberly Schraf shows some
humanity as The Star, revealing the internal insecurity that drives some of
her character’s excesses. What is more, she moves like the star she is. Her
courtesy is a thing of beauty. Matthew Pauli has the most to overcome in the
writing of his part, that of The Writer, because he is the victim of both
Hart’s moralizing and his wish fulfillment. The part begins as a shy young
man who speaks in single syllables and ends with lengthy speeches about the
importance of theater while he takes control of the entire project. It would
be one thing if Hart wrote the part as if The Writer was maturing and
changing through the experiences of the evening. Instead, he simply gives
his alter-ego character the lines he obviously wishes he had said himself in
similar situations. Still, Pauli pulls it off most of the time.
Some
of the secondary roles benefit from being simple comic creations without
such inconsistencies. Rosemary Knower and Stan Weiman use energy and sharp
comic timing to keep their roles as The Producer and The Producer’s Wife
from bogging down. Conrad Feininger disguises the overly preachy nature of
his part as The Visiting Playwright by investing it with gestures and
postures that turn exposition into wry humor. Christopher Bloch is
consistently hysterical as The Director of the play within this play.
Lighting designer Michael Klima’s subtle effect of the light coming through
the window in the non-existent wall through which the audience is viewing
the action is a touch of class which matches Daniel Ettinger’s marvelously
detailed set of Suite 1021 in Boston’s Ritz-Carlton
Hotel. Reggie Ray’s costumes are all as detailed and opulent as the set
which is just right for these movers and shakers of the theater world at
that time in history. The play itself may be a bit dated, but this
production makes you feel you are witnessing just what it must have been
like when it was new and fresh and, well, lighting up Broadway’s sky in
1948.
Written by Moss Hart.
Directed by Vincent M. Lancisi. Design: Daniel Ettinger (set) Michael D.
Klima (lights) Reggie Ray (costumes) Jenifer Alonzo (props) Chas Marsh
(sound) Stan Barouh (photography). Cast: Kimberly Schraf, Conrad Feininger,
Matthew Pauli, Rosemary Knower, Stan Weiman, Christopher Bloch, Dawn Ursula,
Diana Sowle, Steven Cupo, James Denvil, Karl Kippola, Kevin Donnelly. |
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
|
September 12 – October 13, 2002
Taking Sides |
Reviewed September 25
Running time 2 hours 10 minutes |
As much as this play purports to be a
knock-down, drag-out battle of wits between art culture and beauty on one
side and politics, power and ethics on the other, it doesn’t appear that
either the author or the director really believe there is something to be
said for each side of the argument. Instead, it is almost as if two
gunslingers met at the OK Corral but only one of them brought a gun – the
other tries to shout his opponent down. Wherever there is a pro-art argument
to be made it is made with a cogent argument eloquently put. Wherever there
is a political reality argument to be made it is made with bombast and
all-too-apparent oversimplification. This production has already taken a
side.Storyline: As the allies attempt to cleanse post-war Germany of
Nazi influences, an American Major conducts an investigation into the
behavior of famous conductor Wilhelm Furtwängler who headed the Berlin
Philharmonic throughout the Third Reich. Is Furtwängler guilty of helping
the Nazis gain and hold domestic and international power and, thus,
deserving of being kept from working in his profession in the post-war
period? Or was he an uninvolved artist who bears no guilt for the excesses
of the government that happened to be in power during his tenure and, thus,
entitled to return to the podium?
Kyle Prue plays the American Major at such a high volume level that he
seems the prototype for "The Ugly American." He runs his investigation
rough-shod over the feelings of not only the conductor but the witnesses in
the case and his own staff, both a German citizen secretary transcribing the
interviews and an American Lieutenant assistant who is of German Jewish
extraction. He uses crude tactics ranging from making witnesses wait,
belittling their responses, fabricating supposed evidence, dismissing any
claims of mitigating actions and denigrating any claim that there is
anything of value in art. Such tactics do damage to any and all valid points
he makes in the argument that is the essence of the play.
As Furtwängler, Stan Weiman is the polar opposite of the Major with a
dignity unshaken by the danger he is facing even as he’s a bit disoriented
by his fall from the heights. He used to be in command of his own fate and
now he is in the hands of a Major who seems to take pride in his ignorance
of culture and inability to be touched by beauty. As the peril he faces
sinks in he is more and more fervent in his denial of guilt. Things are
complicated by the historical facts of Furtwängler’s case. He did, in fact,
use some of his power to aid a large number of Jews, savings some from the
horror of the camps. The author gives him some of the most telling arguments
to make and then also lets him off with pat answers to difficult questions.
When challenged as to why he didn’t flee Germany when Hitler came to power
as did many famous artists like Schoenberg, Weill, Klemperer and Bruno
Walter, he replies that they were Jews fleeing danger while he was in no
such jeopardy. The Major fails to raise the names of non-Jews who also fled.
The action takes place on Lewis Folden’s set with a see-through back wall
revealing the bombed wreckage of Berlin outside. The supporting cast is
uniformly satisfying and even those called upon to deliver their lines
through thick German accents manage to be fully understandable which is a
tribute to dialect coach BettyAnn Leeseberg-Lange.
Written by Ronald Harwood. Directed by Grover Gardner. Design: Lewis
Folde (set) Jay Herzog (lights) Reggie Ray (costumes) Neil McFadden (sound)
Sarah Washburn (properties). Cast: Kyle Prue, Stan Weiman, Megan Anderson,
Marianne Angelella, Steven Cupo, John Michael MacDonald. |
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
|
March 7 – April 7, 2002
Vigil |
Reviewed March 27
Running time 1 hour 55 minutes |
A quirky comedy with a soft spot gets a straight
forward production on a marvelously detailed set in Everyman’s intimate
space. Artistic Director Vincent Lancisi directs this production with a feel
for the likeability of the two characters and attention to the clarity of
the storyline, but with little feel for the vaudeville-born blackout timing
that its multi-scene structure seems to be created for. As a result, some
bits that could have been drop-dead funny are simply amusing. But they are
amusing, and the entire evening is entertaining.Storyline: Having
learned that his aunt is on her deathbed, a young man arrives in a lonely
old lady’s home to care for her in her final hours or days. But the
bed-ridden old gal doesn’t die in days or weeks or months and he stays on
and on and on. Never having had a close relationship in the past, the man
and the old woman grow close even as he is tempted to expedite her
departure.
Any two person play rises or falls on the two actors who share the stage
for an entire night. R. Scott Williams and Diana Sowle, both new to
Everyman, form a team that works very well together and creates some very
funny moments as well as characters about whom the audience can care. Sowle
played the role last season at Studio Theater in DC and Everyman was lucky
she was available to step in to the role again when their originally
scheduled show for this slot in their season fell through. She knows
precisely what she is doing with the role and is probably funniest when not
saying a word . . . which she is called upon to do for long periods of time.
Silent comedy isn’t easy and she does it well. It certainly is different
than the frantically loud and vocal comedy of Shear Madness in which
she has had an incredibly long run.
Williams is also new to Everyman and also handles his duties well, but
silence isn’t what his character about. No, he almost never shuts up, which
calls for a different kind of comedy altogether. His character frequently
runs things together in a self-centered monologue that makes understandable
his character’s failure to pick up on certain important details which is key
to so many of the unexpected plot points.
Dan Conway, Everyman’s resident designer, handled both set and lighting
for this production, providing another realistic set filled with telling
little details. One design credit you don’t see in too many programs is "Contraptioner"
but Paul Kelm fills this function here with, as the plot demands, very
important objects.
Written by Morris Panych. Directed by Vincent Lancisi. Fight choreography
by Lewis Shaw. Design: Dan Conway (set and lights) Melissa Webb (costumes)
Chas Marsh (sound) Amy Youmatz (props) Paul Kelm (contraptions.) Cast: R.
Scott Williams, Diana Sowle. |
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
|
January 10 – February 17, 2002
Fences |
Reviewed January 16
Running time 2 hours 50 minutes |
The world August Wilson created out of words is brought to life inside the
four walls of the Everyman Theatre through an enveloping visual design and
seven performances that make the experience like eavesdropping on the
conversations of real people at the precise moments that their lives
intersect, interact and change.Storyline: A former Negro Baseball
league athlete, who had dreamt of stardom but ended up as a trash collector,
wants to keep his son from a similar disillusioning fate. At the same time,
he has to cope with the consequences of his own weaknesses and their impact
on his marriage and on the rest of his family.
No mere recitation of the storyline of any August Wilson play gives a
hint of the richness of the play itself. His plotlines are always tight and
intriguing but it is the people he creates and the impact each has on the
others that make a well-done production of a Wilson play such a rewarding
evening of theater. This is one such well-done production and, therefore, an
extremely rewarding evening. Director Jennifer l. Nelson has assembled a
great cast and an impressive design team and kept all the elements in proper
perspective.
Each of Wilson’s characters is distinct and interesting as an individual.
But this is the father’s story and Frederick Strother’s performance as the
father is the strongest of a strong company. Indeed, it is his night. All
those other fascinating characters, so well written and so well played,
exist in relationship to him. So the thing that is so impressive about
Strother’s performance is how supportive he is of each of the other cast
members’ moments while being the oversized commanding presence the father is
supposed to be. He never seems to pull back just to accommodate a colleague
but he never steals a moment that should focus on the wife or the young son
or the older son or the friend or the brother. Of course, it helps that
those characters are played as well as this ensemble plays them. But watch
him work with a doll as a tiny baby. He manages to create a moment of
towering tenderness while directing every eye toward the baby and not toward
him. You can’t credit the acting ability of the doll, can you?
Daniel Ettinger’s set is a marvel. Fully detailed at its core, the back
yard and back porch of the father’s house, it is fairly detailed in the
adjoining interior and less detailed on its flanks with adjoining structures
and their internally lit windows. Behind the audience are additional, even
less realistic structures of the rest of the city. The result, especially as
lit by Jay Herzog, is an inner city world that focuses in on this one yard.
The yard defines the world of this family and the audience is privileged to
glimpse that world. It is a privilege indeed.
Written by August Wilson. Directed by Jennifer L. Nelson. Design:
Daniel Ettinger (set) Jay Herzog (lights) Reggie Ray (costumes) David Wilson
(sound.) Cast: Frederick Strother, S. Robert Morgan, Aakhu Freeman, Kevin
Jiggetts, Keith N. Johnson, Lance Williams, Mercedez Mitchell or Remi Nicole
Winston. |
|
|
|
|
|