Keegan Theatre - ARCHIVE
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Lincolnesque
June 3 - 28, 2009
Thursday - Saturday at 8 pm
Sunday at 3 pm
Monday, June 15 at 8 pm
Reviewed June 11 by Brad Hathaway |
An intriguing concept with a number of serious points
Running time 2:10 - one intermission
Performances at Arlington's Theatre on the Run
Tickets $20 - $25
Click here to buy the script |
Keegan Theatre has found an intriguing new play by John Strand which takes
place in the Nation's Capitol. It feels like it belongs here in the Potomac
Region, although many of its themes and lessons are applicable to the nation
as a whole. Strand builds on a flight of fancy in which a psychiatric
outpatient lapses into the persona of Abraham Lincoln when he goes off his
meds. Strand plays with the consequences of the concept in order to explore
multiple issues including brotherly love and the conflict between altruism
and cynical opportunism in government service. Along the way, he challenges
the idea that - to use on old song lyric - "It ain't what you say, its the
way that you say it." He comes down on the other side of the question,
however, demonstrating that it is the ideas contained in a speech and not
just the sound bites that make the difference.
Storyline: A Capitol Hill staffer's life is doubly stressed. For one
thing, the new chief of staff in his office is floundering as their boss's
prospects for reelection - and, thus, their prospects for continued
employment - tank For another, his brother, who is dependent on him because of a psychiatric
condition, is going deeper and deeper
into a fixation that he is, in fact, Abraham Lincoln. The two problems
coalesce when his brother supplies Lincolnesque texts for the boss's
speeches.
When John Strand comes up
with a concept for a play he sinks his teeth into it with relish. Potomac
Region audiences have known this since the early 1990s when Signature made a
few waves with his Otabenga. He put Alfred de Musset's 1833-34 work
of "Armchair Theatre,"
Lorenzaccio,
on stage at the Shakespeare Theatre Company and his Lovers and Executioners
earned the Charles MacArthur Award for Outstanding New Play when it
premiered at Arena Stage. He explored the compulsion for self expression in
the drama The
Diaries, the off-beat comedy Three Nights in Tehran and the
musical The
Highest Yellow at Signature. He didn't reveal this politically
themed play here, however. Lincolnesque had its premiere in San Diego
where Joe Calarco directed it at the Old Globe. Now Mark A. Rhea takes up
the piece and gives it an absorbing presentation in the small space of
Theatre on the Run just across the foot bridge over Four Mile Run from the
shopping and dining village of Shirlington. The script does include a few
gaffes which local politically active audiences might be expected to notice
that would perhaps have gone undetected a few thousand miles from the
Capitol (such as a reference to a vacancy in the House of Representatives
being filled by gubernatorial appointment) but the essence of the piece
benefits from the production's proximity to the seat of power.
The brothers at issue here are a slightly frumpy and
frazzled Michael Innocenti as the stressed staffer and Peter Finnegan who
actually displays a bit of Lincolnesqueness as the brother who carries the
Great Emancipator's values into contemporary circumstances. Finnegan has a
tendency to squint at times which makes his Brother/Lincoln appear to be
peering into the future from the past. While Finnegan and Innocenti have
characters who remain essentially unchanged by the events in the play, Susan
Marie Rhea's Chief of Staff goes through a series of challenges that deepen
her character. Her self-absorbed power player experiences a few self doubts
along the way, giving her more depth even if she doesn't completely reform
by the end of the play. Through it all, she's fascinating to watch. Stan
Shulman handles a dual role of a homeless man the outpatient thinks is his
Secretary of War, Edwin Stanton, and an A-list kingmaker from K Street's
influence factory.
The design credits are almost "costumes by Erin
Nugent, everything else by Richard Montgomery." Nugent gives Shulman two
different looks for his two different characters and puts Rhea in power garb
befitting the ambitious chief of staff on the rise. Montgomery provides a
collection of columns which stage hands move about to signify different
locations and projects the image of Lincoln behind the action at specific
moments when it seems most relevant. His use of music between scenes gives
the piece a bit of an episodic feel which breaks the flow but his subtle
reinforcement of the feel of public spaces with soft background sounds is
quite effective.
Written by John Strand. Directed by Mark A.
Rhea. Design: Richard Montgomery (set, sound, projections, lights) Erin
Nugent (costumes) Ray Gniewek (photography) Megan Thrift (stage manager).
Cast: Peter Finnegan, Michael Innocenti, Susan Marie Rhea, Stan Shulman. |
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Elizabeth Rex
March 19 - April 18, 209
Thursday - Saturday at 8 pm
Sunday at 3 pm
Reviewed March 28 by
Brad Hathaway |
t
A Potomac Stages Pick
for an astonishingly solid blend of historical fiction and theatrical flare
Running time 2:45 - one intermission
Performances at the Church Street Playhouse
Tickets $25 - $30
Click here to buy the script |
There are times when an author’s play, a director’s vision, a theater
company’s aesthetic and a theater’s ambiance seem to come together in a
seamless match. This is such a time. The script is a marvelous find, a piece
of historical fiction - historical fantasy, really - that makes a "what if?"
leap from simple fact to fascinating fiction by imagining the night when
Queen Elizabeth I commanded William Shakespeare's company to perform for her
in order to take her mind off the fact that, for reasons of state, she had
to put her former (probably non-consummated) lover to death. The production
under director Susan Marie Rhea brings the events to life with a sharp
clarity, and many of the cast members contribute
exceptionally strong characterizations that avoid caricature which is an
ever-present danger when portraying such icons of history as this queen and
this playwright. It all takes place on a set superbly designed to recreate
time, place and the feel of the moment on the stage of a perfect venue for
the package, the exposed brick and beam structure of the Church Street
Playhouse, which looks as if it might well actually be the interior of a
barn.
Storyline: After a command performance for Queen Elizabeth I, William
Shakespeare's company, Lord Chamberlain's Men, gather in a barn for the
night (actors weren't high on the social scale at the time) only to be
visited by the Queen herself who needs continued distractions from the
passing hours as the time approaches for the execution of the man who had
been closest to her before he led a rebellion against her reign.
The production is another
of those wonderful happenings that have resulted from the Canadian Embassy’s
program of sending artists from our nation’s capitol to meet and share
experiences with the Canadian theatre community. In 2006, The Keegan
Theatre's Artistic Director Mark Rhea was one of those artists. While in
Canada he discovered this script by Timothy Findley, a former actor at the
Stratford Shakespeare Festival
and author of both fiction and non fiction books, columns and plays. This,
his last play before his death in 2002, debuted at the Stratford and
received the Canadian Governor General's Award. It is a piece of pure
fiction, making no effort to recreate an actual event, but, instead, using
what little is known of the night before Lord Essex's execution as a
foundation for an exploration of the historical characters, human emotions
and the expectation of gender roles in a society with strict traditions. The
contrast between a Queen in the then-traditionally male role of absolute
monarch and the theatrical world where women weren't allowed on stage,
resulting in actors who specialized in female roles is at the heart of the
piece, and draws a most searing performance from Eric Lucas.
The two towering historical
personages are given completely opposite but equally fascinating
performances. Kerry Waters Lucas, as Queen Elizabeth, is as commanding as the
Virgin Queen is reported to have been, and her passions and pains are
extraordinary. Lucas gives us a very human Queen which is precisely what
Findley's script requires. Contrasting her haughtiness with a confident
humility and humor is Robert Leembruggen's Shakespeare, a master in full
confidence regarding his craft. Together with Eric Lucas, they form a triple
fulcrum around which supporting performances of note revolve. Chris Dinolfo,
Jane Petkofsky and Jon Townson stand out amongst a large, very strong
company. (William Aitken should also be given a nod for the not
insignificant feat of portraying a bear without introducing comic bits at
the wrong moments.)
Keegan, which began here at
the Church Street with its initial production, has long benefited from the
talent of designer George Lucas who seems capable of creating locations for
their plays that serve the moment beautifully but also stick in the mind
long after the final curtain. His designs for
Translations
in the basement of a church in Arlington, his two story set for
The Hostage here
on Church Street and even his French bar for
Picasso at the Lapin
Agile at the Gunston Arts Center always seem to transform a space by
taking its own ambiance as a starting point. Working in concert with
lighting designer Dan Martin, he creates here an environment in which the
cast, sporting the marvelous costumes of Kelly Peacock, bring a time and
place to life.
Written by Timothy Findley.
Directed by Susan Marie Rhea. Dialect coaching by Daniel Lyons. Design:
George Lucas (set) Kelly Peacock (costumes) Kelly Peacock and Daniel Lyons
(makeup) Carol Baker (properties) Dan Martin (lights) Tony Angelini (sound)
Ray Gniewek (photography). Cast: Kevin Adams, William Aitken, Chris Dinolfo,
Tiffany Gardner, Michael Innocenti, Elliott Kashner, John Robert Keena, Robert Leembruggen, Eric Lucas, Kerry Waters Lucas, Timothy Lynch, Trudi Olivetti, Jane
E. Petkofsky, Kerri Rambow, Mark A. Rhea, Daniel Steinberg, Megan Thrift, Jon
Townson. |
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Krapp's Last Tape
February 19 - March 14, 2009
Thursday - Saturday at 8 pm, Sunday at 3 pm
Reviewed February 21 by
Brad Hathaway |
An intense performance in Samuel Beckett's
best known solo play
Running time 1:30 - no
intermission
Performances at Arlington's Theatre on the Run
Price: $20 - $25
Click here to buy the script |
Krapp is a role that Brian Hemmingsen seems fated to play. Samuel Beckett's
description of the character is not very specific as to physical type, but
his text hints at a feast of emotional features - a little at a time.
Therefore, it is the emotional type that is important here and Hemmingsen is
capable of personifying the intensity of interior feeling and private
thought that is the essence of Beckett's creation. He's also capable of
holding the audience's attention without assistance for long periods of
time. He puts all of these capabilities to full use,
providing a theatrical experience that is fascinating and engrossing. The props are few, the events minimal and the setting bare. All
there is is Hemmingsen and his tapes. That's enough for an hour and a half.
We've seen the play packaged with other short works by Beckett. Not here.
Here it is all that is on the bill. Its better this way. All you need is
ninety minutes of Hemmingsen's Krapp to feel you've had a full evening of
theatre.
Storyline: Alone in the world, an old man who has had a habit of making a
tape on each birthday as sort of a vocal diary, makes what may be one last
tape. First he listens to one of his earlier tapes - the one from his
thirty-ninth birthday.
Beckett wrote this play
(in English) as a monologue piece for an Irish actor whose readings from
literature had impressed him. It premiered at London's Royal Court Theatre
in 1958 paired with Beckett's Endgame, another one act play which he had
written in French but translated into English. It is widely thought that
Krapp's Last Tape
is Beckett's most autobiographical piece, but as with most things Beckett,
it is all in the allusions, hints and references, never clearly laid out. The contribution of director David Bryan
Jackson is terribly difficult to quantify in a solo-show like this one. Who
knows how much credit to give him for the fact that Hemmingsen stays on
track all through the play, never seems to deviate from the flow that
Beckett established, and highlights just the right aspects of humor in the
situation? How much is Hemmingsen's own sense of the theatrical and how much
is Jackson's imposition of discipline can't be judged from the seats during
a performance. Of course, Jackson could not draw a performance of this
quality from an actor who didn't bring the requisite skills and talent into
the project in the first place. But someone - Hemmingsen or Jackson (or
both) - has an instinct for just how far to push a particular bit, just how
long to hold a pause and just how strong an emphasis to put on individual
moments. It is the unerring sense for the outer limit that marks this
performance.
Hemmingsen's ability to hold the audience's
attention is particularly important in the opening minutes of the play. He
hasn't a word to say for over twenty minutes and yet the audience is
compelled to follow his every gesture, glance and grunt and then translate
them into thoughts that have gone unverbalized. The play puts strong demands
on the audience, demands made much easier to meet when the performance is as
intense and captivating as this one. In a particularly
impressive demonstration of the magnetic hold Hemmingsen has on the
audience, everyone at the performance we attended remained hushed and nearly
breathless as the lights oh-so-slowly faded to black at the end of Krapp's
last tape.
The bare stage isn't as bare as it first seems. When
you enter Theatre on the Run's black box space you are aware of the desk at
which Hemmingsen sits but you focus immediately on him as he sits staring
into the void. Only later might you notice that there is a portal behind him
in the black-painted wall and that beyond the arched portal is another
black-painted wall. The costume is as Beckett described in his script, right
down to the scuffed white shoes which are
the only remnants of his former status as a dandy. Wisely, the
script's description of Krapp as "White face. Purple nose. Disordered grey
hair. Unshaven" is honored in the hair and stubble but no effort was made to
go beyond a lack of color in the face - no healthy tan but certainly ho hint
of a clownish whiteface and colorful nose.
Written by Samuel Beckett. Directed by David Bryan Jackson.
Design: George Lucas (set) Kelly Peacock (costumes) Dan Martin (lights) Dan
Martin and David Bryan Jackson (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Katrina
Wiskup (stage manager). Cast: Brian Hemmingsen. |
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November 28 - December 21,
2008
Love, Peace
and Robbery
Reviewed November 30 by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 1:25 - no intermission
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for
three strong performances in an intriguing, intimate piece
Performances at Theatre on the Run |
Keegan's New Island Project had its bow in New York last September when it
presented this three-actor piece at the First Irish Festival in a 50-seat
theater with the geographically specific name of 59E59 at 59 East 59th
Street just northeast of Manhattan's theater district. Now the same cast
performs the same piece in the Theatre on the Run set up with 50 seats. The
experience for the audience is practically identical. Thus, this review is
practically identical to the one we ran when the show opened in New York. Matthew Keenan
is still the young man and Eric
Lucas the somewhat more mature one, both just out of prison in Cork, and
Bruce Rauscher is still everybody else. There was an excitement
surrounding Keegan's first New York show. Here without the added stimulant
of a New York debut, the show remains an interesting and intriguing piece,
and the performances are every bit as polished and professionally
accomplished. The price has gone up a bit from $18 to $25 with a $20 deal
for students and seniors.
Storyline: Ten scenes track two men on probation in Cork as they struggle
to adjust to post-prison life and resist the temptation to return to petty
crime.
The play is by Liam Heylin, a
playwright and journalist who works in the environment he portrays.
When not turning out plays, he's a reporter covering the criminal and civil
court scene in Cork for the Irish Examiner/Evening Echo. Clearly he knows
whereof he writes. What is more, he has an ear for the jargon of his world.
At least it seems that way to an ear uneducated in that peculiar
vernacular. Accurate or not, the combination of lyricism and imagery has a
clarity that, when delivered by these three performers, is easy to follow
and appreciate. Kerry Waters Lucas has her cast pay particular attention to
enunciation so that the Irishisms that might otherwise fall by the wayside both register and ring true.
In less accomplished hands, this pair of troubled men
might come across as hopeless losers about whom it could be difficult to
care. Instead, both Lucas and Keenan create distinctive characters out of
the perceptive dialogue Heylin provides. The age span fuels
the gap between them in maturity, and this provides a grading scale on which
the audience can judge just how far each has to come in his effort to reach
some level of adulthood in more than chronological terms. Lucas is clearly
closer to escaping the self-destructive patterns of his youth, but he's not
clear of them yet and he's still susceptible to the entreaties of the
younger Keenan. Both are great fun to watch as they work through the quick
scenes of this show, some of which last just a few minutes and are separated
by snippets of music you might hear playing in the background in an Irish
working man's pub, from Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison" to Bob Dylan's "The
House of the Rising Sun" with a bit of Willie Nelson along the way.
Rauscher's part is listed in the program as "Cast of
Thousands," and, in fact, he manages to be a wide range of characters from a
teenager to a policeman to a mother to a puppy. His Wheaten Terrier puppy is
actually one of the more intriguing characters that Heylin has imagined. As humans, Rauscher manages a range of traits and characteristics that bring each into
focus rapidly to serve the needs of individual scenes without distracting
too much attention from the central story of the evolution of the
relationship between Lucas and Keenan. All three performances are carefully
crafted to avoid excessive reliance on stereotypes.
Written by Liam Heylin. Directed by Kerry Waters
Lucas. Design: Michael Innocenti (lights) Tony Angelini (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Christina Coakley (stage manager). Cast: Matthew Keenan, Eric Lucas, Bruce
Rauscher. |
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November 28 - December 20, 2008
Glengarry
Glen Ross
Reviewed November 29 by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 1:40 - one intermission
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for a
compassionate portrait of the victims of the pressures of an unconstrained
economic system
Performances at the
Church Street Theater
Click here to buy the script |
Seven years ago Keegan mounted a production of David Mamet's biting exploration of the
pressures on the denizens of the sales culture. Then it was at the Clark
Street Playhouse and some of the emotions bared on the stage of that large
venue remain with this reviewer. When they announced that they would return
to the piece with a new director for the company's annual tour of Ireland in
2007, I had dreams of hopping on a jet plane to see it. Unfortunately, I had
to stick closer to home, so it is was with great pleasure that I learned
that they were going to bring it to the Church Street Theatre in its new
incarnation. Here it is directed by Jeremy Skidmore rather than Leslie A. Kobylinski,
and Kevin Adams has replaced the incendiary Jim Jorgenson in the role that
Robert Prosky originated on Broadway, but Mark A. Rhea returns in the other
key role with even greater sensitivity than I remember him exhibiting in a
less specifically developed role seven
years ago. The result is a deeper reading of Mamet's play, with the
characters' victimization made clearer, and their own pain as touching as that
of the customers they victimize, in what Manet clearly sees as a unique form
of trickle down economics that does as much damage to those who sell as to
those who buy.
Storyline: The staff of a real estate office are overwhelmed with the
competitiveness engendered by the commission and reward system used by
management to maximize profit by pitting agent against agent not only for
awards but for survival. One proposes burglarizing the office to obtain
choice leads, but as the police investigate the crime, it becomes clear that
breaking, entering and theft aren't the most despicable tactics used.
Mamet is known for his bitingly acerbic
portraits of the dark side of American society. On the stage these include this
1984 Pulitzer Prize for Drama winner as well as Speed the Plow, which is currently in revival on
Broadway, and American Buffalo, which had a brief revival on Broadway last
month (it closed after only 8 performances). On film he has contributed such insightful screenplays
as The Verdict as well as that for The Untouchables. His view of the
world, or at least of the modern American society, may be a bit on the
jaundiced side but he writes very deliverable dialogue within well crafted
stories that are marked by an underlying affection for the raw and often
un-loveable characters he creates.
Rhea and Adams both capture that affection in their
portrayals of the central characters in this sordid story of corruption,
weakness and greed. Neither is a man you actually "like." Both are rough, not
only around the edges, but to the core. However, each is a product of the
corrupt system in which he lives and works, sink or swim. Mamet lets you
understand the pressures the sales system puts on them, and Rhea and Adams
let you understand the human impact of those pressures. Rhea is the only
hold-over from Kobylinski's 2001 production. Colin Smith makes a
particularly impressive contribution as the stressed out manager through
whom the pressure flows down to the sale staff.
Jacob Muehlhausen provides a set design that was
probably dictated by the requirements of the Ireland tour, being flexible
enough to work in a wide range of theater venues from Dublin to Galway but
which is effective and efficient on the Church Street's stage. Essentially a
wedge of venetian blinds running from the floor to the ceiling railing
of the set, the backdrop works nicely as the
interior of a Chinese restaurant for the first act and of the real estate
sales office for the second. Erin Nugent pays close attention to the
peculiarities of each character in her costume design.
Written by David Mamet. Directed by Jeremy
Skidmore. Design: Jacob Muehlhausen (set) Erin Nugent (costumes) Dan Martin
(lights) Ryan Rumery (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Christina Coakley
(stage manager). Cast: Kevin Adams, Bill Aitken, Peter Finnegan, Michael
Innocenti, Mark A. Rhea, Stan Shulman, Colin Smith. |
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September 23 - 28, 2008
Love, Peace
and Robbery
Reviewed September 24 by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 1:25 - no intermission
Keegan's New York Debut
part of the 1st Irish Festival
Performances at 59E59 Theaters, New York City |
Keegan is one of two Potomac Region theater troupes participating in a
festival of Irish theater in New York. Solas Nua
offered Disco Pigs at the beginning of the three week festival and
now Keegan presents a play Potomac audiences will have the chance to catch
in November and December. Of course, you can drive, fly or ride north this
weekend to get an earlier look at Matthew Keenan as a young man and Eric
Lucas as a somewhat more mature one, both just out of prison in Cork, and
Bruce Rauscher as, well, everybody else. There is an excitement
surrounding Keegan's first New York show. There will be performances in the
tiny (50 seat) "Theater C" in the modern 59E59 complex of small theaters on
East 59th Street in what used to be referred to as "Manhattan's Elegant East
Side" on Friday at 8:30, Saturday at 2:30 and 8:30 and finally on Sunday at
3:30. Tickets in New York are $18.
Storyline: Ten scenes track two men on probation in Cork as they struggle
to adjust to post-prison life and resist the temptation to return to petty
crime.
The play is by Liam Heylin, a
playwright and journalist who works in the environment he portrays.
When not turning out plays, he's a reporter covering the criminal and civil
court scene in Cork for the Irish Examiner/Evening Echo. Clearly he knows
whereof he writes. What is more, he has an ear for the jargon of his world.
At least, it seems that way to an ear uneducated in that peculiar
vernacular. Accurate or not, the combination of lyricism and imagery has a
clarity that, when delivered by these three performers, is easy to follow
and appreciate. Kerry Waters Lucas has her cast pay particular attention to
enunciation so that the Irishisms that might fall by the wayside in lesser
hands both register and ring true.
In less accomplished hands, this pair of troubled men
might come across as hopeless losers about whom it could be difficult to
care. Instead, both Lucas and Keenan create distinctive characters out of
the perceptive dialogue Heylin provides. The gap between them in age fuels
the gap between them in maturity, and this provides a grading scale on which
the audience can judge just how far each has to come in his effort to reach
some level of adulthood other than chronological age. Lucas is clearly
closer to escaping the self-destructive patterns of his youth, but he's not
clear of them yet and he's still susceptible to the entreaties of the
younger Keenan. Both are great fun to watch as they work through the quick
scenes of this show, some of which last just a few minutes and are separated
by snippets of music you might hear playing in the background in an Irish
working man's pub, from Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison" to Bob Dylan's "The
House of the Rising Sun" with a bit of Willie Nelson along the way.
Rauscher's part is listed in the program as "Cast of
Thousands" and, in fact, he manages to be a wide range of characters from a
teenager to a policeman to a mother to a puppy. His Wheaten Terrier puppy is
actually one of the more intriguing characters that Heylin has imagined. As humans, Rauscher manages a range of traits and characteristics that bring each into
focus rapidly to serve the needs of individual scenes without distracting
too much attention from the central story of the evolution of the
relationship between Lucas and Keenan. All three performances are carefully
crafted to avoid excessive reliance on stereotypes.
Written by Liam Heylin. Directed by Kerry Waters
Lucas. Design: Dan Martin (lights) George Lucas (photography) Christina
Coakley (stage manager). Cast: Matthew Keenan, Eric Lucas, Bruce
Rauscher. |
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July 31 - August 23, 2008
Stones in his
Pockets
Reviewed August 9 by
David Siegel
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Running time 1:50 - one intermission
A 2-actor tidbit of tenderness performed effortlessly with an Irish lilt
Click here to buy the script |
Two actors must morph themselves into 15 different roles with agility and
self-confidence if Marie Jones’ Stones in His Pockets can have any
expectation of reaching an audience’s heart. Uneasy acting will slay this
trifle of a play since it does not have many memorable lines or a
formidable new concept. In this case, thankfully, Kerry Waters Lucas has
tightly directed this venture into a nicely polished nugget of modern day
Irish storytelling, providing the audience with an engaging evening. The two
actors, Eric Lucas and Matthew Keenan, deliver rewarding humor and
bittersweet pathos with an Irish lilt in their voices to close the deal.
Keenan and Lucas pull it off by keeping the audience reeling as they execute
split-second character changes without new costumes or hefty lighting shifts
on the mostly bare stage, with only their full longish hair and general
several day-old bearded scruffiness as props. The two are able to almost
flawlessly stop the momentum of one character and move smoothly and
immediately into the next with few blackouts to assist as clear transition
devices. This is an unpretentious work with good humor, few big laughs but
with dramatic heft that works because of teamwork. There are certainly
scenes in the several dozen over the course of the evening that play less
true than others. At times, one can become lost over which of the 15
characters is before the audience, but so be it. Let’s not be too picky
about such things. The overall arc of the play is clear. The road signs are
there and the road is pretty straight. Stones in His Pocket is a
satisfying evening’s entertainment.
Storyline: An American film company comes to a remote village in Ireland
to film a big production about Irish life and needs the local townsfolk as
extras. The effects on the local townspeople are profound; leaving some of
them changed in their outlook on life and their desire to take charge of
their own lives. Their experiences come to a
climax when another villager commits suicide by drowning himself in a lake.
It is clear that he intended to drown because he had filled his pockets with
stones.
Playwright Marie Jones (born 1951) has extensive stage
writing credits with work in radio and television as well. Stones in His
Pockets was first produced in Ireland in 1996 by the DubbelJoint Theatre
Company. It later went on to London. Stones received awards from the
Irish Times and a Best Comedy award from the London Evening Standard as well
as the Olivier Award for Best Comedy. It made its way to the Golden Theater
in New York City in 2001 and received three Tony nominations, two for the
actors and one for the director. Jones’s vision is clear in this unassuming,
small scale venture. Director Kerry Waters Lucas skillfully
choreographed her two actors so that they
appear as a smoothly working team throughout the production rather than just
two people sharing a stage, saying lines and fighting for time in the
spotlight. She has the actors working together like a pair of good ice
skating partners spinning effortlessly together into a double Lutz; leaving
few unnecessary marks on the ice. Finally, while the weighty despairing
scenes easily could have sucked the life from this little piece, the
director has her actors push through them with their energy constantly
lifting this production until the end.
Lucas (Charlie Conlon) and Keenan (Jake Quinn) are
an evenly matched pair. From the beginning, the two bound off each other
playing a multitude of pretty distinctive characters. They throw themselves into
Stones as if they are rescuing an actual real life Irish village and in
the process they make the evening exciting. Lucas has
the luxury of having the more flamboyant roles to play, including an
American actress. With a flip of his hair, a swirling move of his arms and a
point of his finger, he makes it seem as if he does not have an X chromosome
in his body. In his main role as Conlon, an erstwhile local playwright, his
own life’s journey is a bumpy one as he learns to take on his
American tormentors and bullies. While of
similar height, Lucas has a more substantial physical appearance when placed next to Keenan. Lucas moves about the small stage with some gravitas
while his wide mouth and quick smile make him appealing no matter what role
he is in. Keenan has the more beaten down characters to portray, including
the drug addled man who commits suicide at the end of Act I. This act turns
the play from a tidbit comedy to a piece with substance. He can make his real life healthy body and arms look
wizened as a drug addicted man, and then switch to a fey American assistant
director for which he throws his hips, neck and voice into something
entirely different. He also plays an old local townsman, who, in an alcoholic
stupor, has truths to tell. Finally, he does a lovely turn into the
individual who encourages Conlon to finish his play and blow off the opinion
of the Americans that his play cannot be produced because it does not have a
happy enough ending. Keenan, a bit slighter than Lucas, moves more like a
cat; he stoops, he jaunts, and has a way of searching out with his eyes that
are authentic and not stagy.
The Theatre on the Run playing space
suits this 2 actor play. The always tight space has only black curtains, a
couple of chairs, several pairs of shoes and a table, yet the pair of actors
take the audience through a wide gamut of Irish villagers and American movie
types. There are few chances for big technical theatrical work. Costumes are
just every day scruffy dark pants, white shirts and vests. The several days
old beard on each of the actors is invaluable to setting the right mood.
There is some interesting pre-show music that portends things to come.
Written by Marie Jones.
Directed by Kerry Waters Lucas. Dan Martin (lights & effects), George and
Gloria Lucas (inspiration for the selection of music),
Ray Gniewek
(photography) Rachel
Heyd (stage manager). Cast:
Matthew
Keenan, Eric Lucas. |
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May 15 - June 7, 2008
Closing Time
Reviewed
May 17 by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 1:50 - one intermission
A slice of a disappearing aspect of Irish life
Click here to buy the script |
Talk about being up to date! Not only does the news that
is droning along on the television set behind the bar at this Irish pub give the latest word on the
Barack Obama vs. Hillary Clinton struggle, the topic of the play itself
echoes an article from the front page of the Washington Post of less
than a month ago about the demise of Ireland's pubs in the wake of
increasing prosperity in the Emerald Isle. In this instance, it is Belfast
and the pub seems not to be the only thing hitting hard times. Owen McCafferty, whose
Mojo Mickybo was such a success for Keegan
last year, provides the text and Keegan the atmosphere, attitude and brogue
that make it seem like you are watching real life play out. With a cast of
actors that Potomac Region theatergoers have come to rely on for
performances that are a pleasure to watch, performing co-directors Eric
Lucas and Kerry Waters Lucas assemble a package that gets almost everything
right, creating a diverting evening watching interesting characters having a
somewhat less diverting day. That their lives have troubles is evident from
the start - this is, after all, an Irish pub where troubles are the thing of
endless conversations. But the details emerge slowly, as they would in real
life and half the enjoyment is putting the clues together to follow the
stories hinted at as well as the events played out.
Storyline: The pub in a small hotel in Belfast is losing money hand over
fist, and the hotel itself isn't doing very well either. The owner clings to
one last futile hope of keeping it afloat, even as he sees the end
approaching. His wife, the one and only barmaid in the bar, would dearly
like to escape the dreary place. Perhaps she could flee with the guy who
seems parked at one end of the bar. But he's in a state of denial over his
own problems. At the other end of the bar sits a somewhat less dissatisfied
customer with his own views of life in Northern Ireland. Add a local
handyman who has never recovered full use of his brain after being shot in
the head during "the troubles," and you have plenty of things to talk about
in the rich Irish voice of a gifted playwright.
As we saw last year with Mojo Mickyo, McCafferty,
with his command of the everyday language among the Irish, is a playwright
making a significant contribution to the supply of Irish slice of life plays
that keep a number of small theater companies in our region stocked with
quality material. Keegan once seemed the only company reliably dipping into
that supply. Recently the field has expanded. Solas Nua has given us Mark O'Rowe's
Howie the Rookie and Enda Walsh's
Disco Pigs. Rep Stage took on Marie Jones'
Stones in his Pockets. Quotidian did a lovely production of Conor
McPherson's
The Weir. But still, Keegan has the Irish roots going back the
farthest, and with their "new island project" series of smaller, newer
works, they keep the faith with this latest foray into the genre.
Bruce Rauscher and Ian LeValley are the first two
people seen when the lights come up on George Lucas' detailed small pub set
with just one table and about three stools at the bar. It is morning and
both are passed out from the consumption of the night before. Soon they are
joined by Eric Lucas as a sort of fixture in the establishment in the way
George Wendt's "Norm" was a fixture on television's Cheers. Each
actor is a delight to watch go through his paces. Kerri Waters Lucas adds
her own marvelous way of making a thick brogue understandable. Playing against type is Mark A. Rhea, who has always seemed to do his best work with
characters who have a surplus of macho swagger in their makeup (think Stanly
Kowalski in A
Streetcar Named Desire). Here he gives a touching and thoroughly
convincing view of the stumbling, slow and slightly addled brain-damaged
handyman.
One aspect of the production is neither up to date nor
realistic, however. A factor in the reported decline in pubs in Ireland is
believed, at least by its opponents, to be the ban on smoking in
pubs throughout Ireland. That ban took effect last year in Northern Ireland
where this play is set. Yet there's Eric Lucas puffing away as only he can
do. Lucas has a great way with a cigarette, making the act of smoking seem
as essential to his character as breathing, but there's no indication in the
production that, when the TV blares news on Obama and Clinton, smokers in a
Belfast pub face a fine of about a hundred US dollars for lighting up.
Written by Owen McCafferty. Directed by Eric Lucas
and Kerry Waters Lucas. Design: George Lucas and Eric Lucas (set) Dan Martin
(lights and sound) Kat Wiskup and Rachel Heyd (stage managers).
Cast: Ian Le Valley, Eric Lucas, Kerry Waters Lucas, Bruce Rauscher, Mark A.
Rhea and the voice of Matthew Keenan.
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April 18 - May
17, 2008
Translations
Reviewed
April 20 by
Brad Hathaway |
Running
time 2:10 - one intermission
t
A
Potomac Stages Pick for a history play that is both romantic
and fascinating
Performed in the
Church Street Theatre.
Click here to buy the script |
Sometimes
"you've come a long way baby" implies both a compliment on progress and a
snide remark about the past. It certainly isn't meant that way here. Keegan
Theatre has come a long way from a sterling beginning, and this production -
a revival of sorts - is dramatic proof of the fact. Keegan reaches back into
its own early days when it first produced Brian Friel's history play of the
days when the British attempt to purge Ireland of its own language and,
thus, its own sense of self worth. In 1997 it staged the play in the
basement of a church in Arlington, turning one corner of a recreation room
into a school held in a barn in rural nineteenth century County Donegal
in the north of Ireland. George Lucas's set design for that limited space
was remarkably successful. Now they have a large playing space on the Church
Street stage, and Lucas has created a larger but no less remarkably
successful set. The cast is not the same, but the impact of the production
is. The play is one to loose yourself in for an excursion to another time
and place where very real human concerns are explored. Again, it draws a superb
production
from Keegan and director Mark A. Rhea.
Storyline:
In an Irish-speaking town in the north of Ireland in 1833, a unit of
English military arrives on a mission to map all of Ireland, and, in the
process, anglicize the Irish place names as part of the overall
effort of the English government to force assimilation on the part of the
Irish. Serving as a hired civilian translator is the son of the
teacher in the local school where the locals gather to
learn the three R's in their native language. The conflict of cultures is
compounded by the attraction between a young lieutenant who speaks no Irish
and a local young woman who speaks no English.
The play is a mature work by Friel, who
first came to prominence with Philadelphia Here I Come in 1964, and turned
out drama after drama of the Irish experience through the 1990s with such
well known works as Molly Sweeney and Dancing at Lughnasa. In his portraits
of Irish people he creates characters that are fleshed out, imperfect but
understandable human beings who share a common cultural heritage and traits.
In Translations, Friel pulls off the intriguing accomplishment of
writing dialogue for both the English speakers and the Irish speakers in the
English that the audience understands, and yet giving each character a
distinct voice and making it clear to the audience which language is being
used in any given speech, sentence or exclamation. The dialogue between
Peter Finnegan as the young Lieutenant and Susan Marie Rhea as the girl who
is so attracted to him is an affecting piece of writing as they try to
communicate with each other in a halting, frustrated and even exasperated
exchange which, nonetheless, manages to communicate their deepening
attraction each to the other.
Friel gives each of the cast of ten
characters distinct and interesting personalities, and Keegan's cast takes
full advantage of the idiosyncrasies without overemphasizing them. Stan
Shulman, as the local who may not know English but can quote the classics in
the original Greek or Latin with ease, Kevin Adams, as the heavy drinking
headmaster, and Colin Smith, as the young teacher who can't quite connect
with the student he loves until it is too late create distinct and
distinctive believable individuals. Jon Townson, as the headmaster's son who
has returned from years on his own in Doublin, carries himself with the
assurance that broadening experience would have given him. Finnegan's
Lieutenant is notable for youthful idealism and romanticism while Susan
Marie Rhea matches his romanticism but leavens the idealism with the
accumulated effects of rural isolation and poverty. Director Mark A. Rhea
blends the cast into an ensemble which feels very much like a community.
A note on an
event at the performance reviewed: The Church Street Theatre can be an
interesting place to be in a rainstorm. With its tin roof, the sound of a
downpour reverberates through the space. Add thunder claps, and it can be
difficult for an audience to hear what is said on stage ... that
is, unless the cast adjusts their own volume and their enunciation to
compensate. About half way through the first act of the Sunday, April 20
matinee, the heavens opened and the roar was impressive. What was more
impressive was the reaction of Kevin Adams who happened to be making a
speech at the time. He raised his volume without changing his dramatic
demeanor. The rest of the cast followed his lead and, suddenly, the scene
was as comprehensible as before the din began. Director Rhea, knowing that
storms were predicted and remembering the night they had to stop the show
for a similar downpour during Keegan's production of
Side Man here, had
alerted the cast to the possibility of a problem and asked that they "be
aware and project." The adjustment was so smooth that it didn't interrupt
the flow of the play - a tribute to the professionalism of the entire
ensemble.
Written by
Brian Friel. Directed by Mark A. Rhea. Design: George Lucas (set) Kelly
Peacock (costumes) Dan Martin (lights) Tony Angelini (sound) Megan Thrift
(stage manager). Cast: Kevin Adams, Erin Buchanan, Peter Finnegan, Matthew
Keenan, Daniel Lyons, Susan Marie Rhea, Samantha Sheahan, Stan Shulman,
Colin Smith, Jon Townson. |
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March 6 - April 5, 2008
Last Days of
the Killone Players
Reviewed March 9 by
David Siegel
|
Running time
1:45 minutes - one
intermission
Something to chew on for a rainy night
Performances at Theater on the Run |
To be a playwright and give an audience something new and worthy to chew on
with rich dialogue, three dimensional characters and a sense of fluidity is
not an easy goal. It is a pleasure to write that a wistful and melancholy
little new piece has found its way to Arlington’s Theater on the Run.
Written by Eric Lucas, directed by Leslie A. Kobylinski and produced for
Keegan Theatre’s New Island Project, this is a work like a slow jazz fugue
of horns and low piano notes with a sultry, throaty woman’s plaintive voice.
She describes love gone wrong, but without hysterics. She just wants to tell
you how she feels. Killon is somewhat slight. It is not trying to
make big points. It is a grown-up piece about unhappy lives beaten down by
uncontrollable change in a community, and the family secrets that finally
break into the open and tear people apart. This is a piece for a cold rainy
evening, when you can leave the theater and continue to savor the textures
of the piece. There are certainly clichés, overly maudlin language, a dearth
of physical action and a thrown in comic subplot or two to cover the main
action. But with that, this is still something notable, a talk piece well
suited to the limited space of Theater on the Run where audiences will
listen to what is being spoken as the trajectory of the piece takes hold in
the heart.
Storyline: In a dying town in the west of Ireland, an amateur theatre
group comes together for the first read of their final production. As a
developer threatens to devour everything in the town, including their
beloved theatre space, the individuals begin to remember their pasts and
soon enough the hidden from view takes over and leaves all of them torn
asunder.
Lucas has written a script
that arcs from a comic opening scene and then transforms itself to take the
audience into a world of hurt. What starts as a piece of whimsy veers off
into dark places as each of the characters speaks of sad underlying issues
in their lives and that of the community. They find themselves under assault
from outside developers. What begins as pressure to destroy and redevelop
old buildings and farms slowly unravels families. Under the direction of
Leslie Koyblinski, this is a piece that requires close attention, for it is
all small gestures, facial expressions and voice modulations. There are no
grand gestures. There are small moments throughout in which the well tuned
cast shows naturalistic, real feelings.
Kerry Rambow is a natural for her role as the
wife, mother and the only piece of femininity in this production. She plays
with an understated sense of genuine caring until she is finally broken and
leaves her husband in total despair. Bruce Rauscher’s detective is a man on
a mission to find the truth. When he finds it, he decides to hide it rather
than hurt the folk he comes to care for because his own life is one of
hidden despair and loneliness. Rauscher delivers some haunting lines in
several monologues. He is low key and generally believable. Gerald Browning,
as the husband, moves from pompous, overbearing ass, to show himself to be a
father so hurt by the actions of his son that he has no notion of how much
he is responsible for his son’s outlook on life. That outlook has the son
hateful, vengeful and, worse, cold to his parents. Kevin O’Reilly is one
cold son-of-a-bitch for a son. He is stiff, and with little emotion, he
delivers line upon line showing his hatred for everything that made him, his
family, his neighbors, and his community. Jon Reynolds is the obligatory
comic foil to keep the proceedings from falling into a multi-Kleenex
venture. John Brennan is the sad middle-aged man who failed to reach out to
the woman he loved for fear that he was not good enough for her, and does the
same one other time in his life, so that only his sheep and his satellite TV
keep him company.
This is very nice, small scale ensemble work, and the Theater on the Run
black box space is appropriately used for the piece. The set is just a table and
some chairs, with three panels behind to give a sense of the Irish
countryside. The lighting carries the audience around from soft and bright,
to well-accomplished spotlighted scenes.
Written by Eric Lucas. Directed by Leslie A.
Kobylinski. Design: Terry Lucas (set) Kevin Lane (costumes) Dan Martin
(lights) Rose M. Kobylinski (stage manager). Cast: John Brennan, Gerry
Browning, Kevin O'Reilly, Kerri Rambow, Bruce Rauscher, and Jon Reynolds. |
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February 21 - March 30, 2008
The Hostage
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 2:40 - two
intermissions
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for a balanced
blend of good time revelry and Irish theatricality
Performances in the
Church Street Theatre.
Click
here to buy the script |
After World War II, as the world caught its collective breath from the edge
of the abyss, art as well as politics was undergoing reexamination and
experimentation with change. Some of the changes stuck – some did not. At
the time no one knew where music was going – Rock and Roll? Elvis?
Progressive Jazz? Beatnick Word-Talk? No one knew where politics was going
– Cold War? Superpower hegemony? Anti-Imperialism? Local Determination? The
age of uncertainty extended to theater where the rules of formal structure
seemed at once reinforced and fractured. Irish new-wave writer Brendan
Behan’s The Hostage is an example of the uncertainties of both the
arts and the politics of its time. In 1958, The Hostage was as
anti-establishment theater as it was anti-establishment politics. The Keegan
Theatre, with its fascination for all things Irish, revived the piece in
2003, preserving all of its weaknesses as well as its strengths. They return
to it now and find a somewhat better balance, drawing attention away from
the weaknesses, and, at least in the first two acts, emphasizing the
strengths
Storyline: In Dublin in 1958 a strange
collection of under-class Irish folks live under one roof in this
brothel/pub. There’s the
pub-operator; the cheap whore and her customer, a Russian sailor; the
homosexual whore and his customer, a cynical pianist, the former Irish
Republican Army officer still blowing his pipes. The IRA has captured an
English soldier and holds him hostage in this house, threatening to execute
him if the English go through with their plan to execute an IRA prisoner.
Behan’s play is performed
with two intermissions separating the three sections which aren’t exactly
three acts. Behan’s effort to avoid the strictures of structure kept him
from traditional labeling. The first section is essentially an extended
introduction to the characters and their types with a great deal of
attention to creating the atmosphere of the place. The second introduces the
hostage, a young man who only slowly understands the peril he is in. The
third carries the story, such as it is, to its conclusion. All of this takes
place at a leisurely pace with little dramatic or comedic force to move it
along during the first two and a half sections. The final confrontation
seems to descend into confusion with just who is doing what to whom and why
not clearly delineated by the staging.
The characters are all
quirky and colorful and the ensemble that Keegan has assembled features
strong performances highlighting the very oddity Behan envisioned. As it was
in 2003, the strongest among them is David Jourdan as the song-singing
leader of the pack who serves as sort of an anti-establishment master
of ceremonies with a guitar, a bottle or three of stout and a ready song.
This time out it is Joe Baker who plays the hostage, and he is appealingly
innocent with a youthful charm that seems to capture the affection of the
motley crew. His cockney accent stands in stark contrast with the Irish
brogue of the rest of the cast. It should be noted that few of the accents
are thick enough to keep the audience from understanding all of the dialogue.
Both David Jourdan's music
and Melissa-Leigh Douglass' choreography have a natural feel to them. The
dances just seem like the way these people would move to the rousing jigs
and folk-sounding songs sung in many an Irish pub, and the use of authentic,
often familiar melodies delivered with open honesty and camaraderie enhances
the good time spirit. This, in turn, enhances the contrast between the
mundane humanity of the regulars of the brothel and the bizarre
officiousness of the IRA operatives. All of this takes place on a two-story
set by George Lucas that feels perfectly at home in the distressed brick and
wood interior of the Church Street Playhouse.
Written by Brendan Behan.
Directed by Mark A. Rhea. Music adaptation and music direction by David Jordan.
Choreographed by Melissa-Leigh Douglass. Design: George Lucas (set) Carol
Baker (set dressing) Shadia Hafiz (costumes) Dan Martin (lights) Tony
Angelini (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Christina Coakley (stage
manager). Cast: Kevin Adams, Carolyn Agan, Joe Baker, Christina Coakley,
Sally Cusenza, Shadia Hafiz, Sheri S. Herren, Jim Howard, Michael Innocenti,
David Jourdan, Mike Kozemchak, Timothy Hayes Lynch, Rich Montgomery, Roger
Payano, Jane E. Petkofsky, Susan Marie Rhea, Jennifer Richter, Colin Smith,
Daniel Steinberg.
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November 15 - December 15, 2007
Alone It
Stands
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 1:35 - one
intermission
The US premiere of an Irish play detailing the phenomenon
of a local rugby team's
triumph
Performances at Arlington's
Theatre on the Run
Price range $15 - $20 |
Keegan counts 62 roles in John Breen's dramatization of the victory of an
Irish Rugby Team over New Zealand's.
There are just six performers on stage. Pandemonium? No. Clarity! Eric and
Kerry Waters Lucas direct the American premiere of this play in a flat-out
romp of a physical production which maintains focus throughout what seems to
amount to the two halves of a game the underdogs and their fans can't
believe they are winning. Each of the six have to portray multiple
characters - players on Munster's team, players on New Zealand's, family
members, fans, commentators - you name it. Keeping things clear is a
challenge, but it is a challenge well met.
Storyline: On October 31, 1978 the rugby club Munster, Ireland, defeated
the world-class New Zealand "All Blacks" who had remained in Ireland for one
last exhibition game after having defeated the best that the British Isles
had to offer. In two acts, six actors portray the game and the events
surrounding it for the members of the team, their families and their
community.
Playwright John Breen was one of
the people affected by the 1978 contest between his home town team and the
titans from the other side of the world. He captures many facets of the
impact of this event on the people he cares about. The play he wrote is a
highly theatrical thing. As directed by the Lucases it is a series of
special effects including slow motion, choreographed rugby scrums (those
violent struggles over possession of the ball that mark rugby as one of the
most strenuous contests of the football family) and exaggerated postures to
create nearly instantaneous impressions of different locations and
characters.
Co-director Eric Lucas also appears as "fourth actor"
which means he is a child, a fan, a coach, a player, a family member and a
spectator at different times. That is a typical list of characters for each
of the cast of six and each gets the opportunity to make a strong impression
in at least one character because the Lucases' blocking tends to draw the
audience's attention to a single character at a time except for the big
group effects such as a scrum or a break-away running play in the rugby
game. Eric Humphries and Mandy Moore have characters that are the most
distinctive - Moore, the pregnant wife of one of the players who goes into
labor during the game, and Humphries a dog who sniffs and licks in a
distinctly canine manner. All six, however, make the transitions from
character to character swiftly and clearly.
The design team doesn't help the performers much, but
that seems to be a choice by the Lucases rather than any sort of failure.
Dan Martin doesn't have different lighting effects for scenes featuring
Munster's team on the one hand and New Zealand's on the other. The lighting
is simply sufficient to illuminate the playing space and provide some sense
of change for the switch from one locale or time to another. Martin is also
the designer of the soundscape which includes a clip of the theme from
"Chariots of Fire" making a bit of a predictable point. An anachronistic
distraction is the presence on stage of four modern plastic bottles of water
which seem so twenty-first century for a play set in 1978.
Written by John Breen. Directed by Eric Lucas and
Kerry Waters Lucas. Design: Dan Martin (lights and sound) with costumes
provided by Matt Godek Rugby. Photography by Ray Gniewek. Cast: Gerald B.
Browning, Joe Baker, Brandon Cater, Eric Humphries, Eric Lucas, Mandy Moore. |
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June 1 - July 7, 2007
1776
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 2:45 - one intermission
The musical re-telling of our nation’s
creation
Co-presented with Runyonland Enterprises
Performances at the Church Street
Theatre.
Click here to buy the CD |
This show has a deeper
impact when performed in the Potomac Region, where we live each day elbow to
elbow with history. Here the arguments over the values for which this
country was founded take on special meaning. Sherman Edwards, a song writing
history teacher with little or no experience in musical theater, with the
help of the inestimable Peter Stone (Titanic, The Will Rogers Follies),
managed to make this history lesson one of the most entertaining, genuinely
funny, romantic and passionate musicals. Under Mark Rhea, the Keegan company
does a fully credible job of bringing these events to
life and Robert Leembruggen makes the role of Benjamin Franklin fresh
again. Add the
fine voices of two women and you have a lot to enjoy. Patricia Tinder
is a strong Abigail Adams stuck in Massachusetts, but ever present in the
mind of John Adams. She pairs up with her real-life
husband, Mick Tinder, who plays John Adams with a sharp sense of the
frustration that eats at the man, and their duet on "Till Then" is a
delight. Carolyn Agan, as Martha Jefferson, parries with great wit in chit chat with Adams and Franklin
and sings the lilting "He Plays the Violin" with charm. James Finley plays her husband with an
unfortunate lack of passion except
for the moment of their reunion kiss.
Storyline: In a hot and humid hall in "foul, filthy, fuming Philadelphia,"
the delegates of the 13 colonies debate everything from opening up a window
to declaring independence. Central to the cause of separation are John Adams
who is "obnoxious and disliked" but devoted to the cause, Benjamin Franklin,
"a sage, a bit gouty in the leg" who understands the importance of crafting
coalitions, and Thomas Jefferson who, at age 33, has "a remarkable felicity
of expression." The audience knows what the outcome of the debate will be,
but there is tension and drama aplenty along the way to the final vote.
The real magic of this
piece is the way Stone and Edwards manage to communicate the complexity of
the issues and avoid making simplistic cartoons out of the majority of the
characters they portray. Richard Henry Lee is treated with less respect than
most, being a comic popinjay of an egotist, and Doug Wilder is a lot of fun
as he works his way through "The Lees of Old Virginia," but the adherents to
the heritage of the British nation are shown as earnest, honest men who have sincere differences of opinion. Indeed, Stone writes a marvelously moving
moment at the end when the victorious John Adams pays tribute to the
defeated John Dickenson who, in Kevin Adams heart-felt if slightly stiff
portrayal, has fought with all the energy and passion at his command in a
cause he holds dear. Even the question of slavery, which was finally
resolved on the side of human dignity only by bloody civil war decades
later, is presented with both sides landing telling blows in the argument.
Musical theater isn't
exactly the strength of the Keegan Theatre, but they have collaborated here
with Runyondland Enterprises, the group that put together the fine
production of this show at Alexandria's old West End Dinner Theatre in 2003
which featured Tinder in the same role he plays here, and they brought along JoEllen Borton as Musical Director. With a weak accompaniment emerging from
the side of the wing-less stage, and actors cast more for their acting than
for their singing, this production is musically only acceptable, but does hit
a satisfying stride from time to time. The opposition to the
Adams/Franklin/Jefferson team gets the short end of the musical stick. David Jourdan's portrayal of slavery-defending Edward Rutledge is dramatically
effective but his singing of the emotionally charged "Molasses to Rum" falls
a bit flat and the choreographed caricature of conservatism, "Cool, Cool,
Considerate Men" is more effectively danced than sung. Still, the message
gets through.
There is a trend
of late which deserves some attention and discussion. It is the moving of
intermission with little regard for the impact on the dramatic structure of
a play. At Arena Stage both
Cabaret and
She Loves Me were
done with intermissions in places that their creators never intended. Both
were the worse for it. Now we have a 1776 with an intermission
following what had been scene six of a seven scene, one act show. It was a
lengthy one-act, to be sure. When it was revived on Broadway in 1997 it was
presented with an intermission at the end of scene five, sending the
audience out for its break right after the emotionally charged "Mamma Look
Sharp." That had been the original plan of its creators and that is the way
it was presented at Ford's Theatre in the excellent 2003 revival. The
placement of the intermission made dramatic sense. Here, it seems more a
function of the fanny fatigue factor - when the audience gets uncomfortable
enough in the tightly packed seats of the Church Street Theater they are
provided a stretch break. Better it had been where it made some dramatic
sense as well.
Written by Peter Stone. Music and Lyrics by Sherman
Edwards. Directed by Mark A. Rhea. Music direction by JoEllen Borton.
Choreographed by Elena Velasco. Design: Mick Tinder (set) Emily Riehl-Bedford
and Patricia Carlson-Tinder (costumes) Dan Martin (lights) Tony Angelini
(sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Christina Coakley (stage manager). Cast:
AJ Ackleson, Kevin Adams, Carolyn Agan, Todd Baldwin, Chris Borton, Bob
Cohen, Joe Cronin, James Finley, Jim Howard, Dave Jourdan, John Robert Keena,
Rick Kenney, Rich Clare, Jon Lawlor, Robert Leembruggen, Randahl Lindgren,
Bruce Lugn, Tom Lynch, Daniel Lyons, Richard Montgomery, Colin Smith, KJ
Thorarinsson, Mick Tinder, Patricia Tinder, Doug Wilder.
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June 7 - July 7, 2007
The
Importance of Being Earnest
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 2:35 - one intermission and
a pause
Tickets $15 - $20
Performances at Arlington's
Theatre on the Run
Click here to buy the script |
Like a Gilbert and Sullivan comic opera without the music of Sullivan, Oscar
Wilde's superbly crafted convoluted contrivance has pleasures at every turn.
By mounting a bare-bones production with just enough scenery to establish
locale in a small and intimate theater, Keegan's New Island Project series
of plays "stripped to their foundation" tries to shed new light on an
old favorite. They provide a very enjoyable evening. However, they hardly "shed new
light" on this much produced classic. It is not that this period piece has
suffered over the years from too many sumptuous productions obscuring its
essence. Indeed, it was first written with an eye toward opulent costuming
and lavish sets for the St. James' Theater in London where Lady
Windemere's Fan had just finished a long run.
Storyline: An English gentleman lives a staid and proper existence in the
country but adopts a second identity in the town so he can be free of some
of the conventions of society. One of his friends in town maintains an
equally fictitious friend in the country in order to avoid society's
demands. The two fictitious identities get mixed up as both men woo women
who had always wanted to marry men named Ernest. Both men are so smitten
they would go to the extent of re-baptizing themselves as true Ernests. It
is learned, however, that the country gentleman was abandoned as an infant
and, when his true identity is revealed by his former governess, it is
revealed that that he really is Ernest.
Director Dorothy Neumann varies the pacing as the evening progresses and
keeps the focus quite clear, which is important for a convoluted comedy. She
works with the three-act version of the play. It was originally a four-act
piece but is certainly best known in this semi-streamlined edition. The play is brimming
with the wit and charm of Oscar Wilde. Much of that wit requires a precision
of delivery which it gets here in only some of the performances. The
rendition of the two central characters, the two upper-class British
gentlemen, are a bit too relaxed and
easygoing to get the most out of Wilde's wildest concepts.
Christopher Dinolfo and Mike Innocenti play the two
gentlemen caught up in their own machinations. They are energetic and
spirited but rarely seem very upper-crust British. Barbara Klein, on the
other hand, is the very essence of a haughty society matron as the
insufferable Lady Bracknell. When she's on stage, you can believe this
comedy of class is targeted with precision. The girls who want to marry
Ernests are Erin Buchanan and Suzanne Edgar. Each crafts her own character
with care and they create a chemistry between them that sparkles. The
secondary roles of the governess and her own suitor are given sharp
performances by Rosemary Regan and John F. Degan, whose persona is so
reminiscent of classic comedian Victor Moore that it makes you wonder if
Moore ever played the role himself. He would have been fabulous. As it is,
the team of Regan and Degan is memorable for the way they look deep into
each other's eyes.
While the set consists principally of an archway that
is moved from one spot on stage to another to hint at different locales from
London to the country, the costumes by William Pucilowski are hardly simple
hints at the fashions of the day or the class. While the men make do with
mildly period suits, the women are decked out with colorful gowns of
sumptuous fabrics that are distinctly late nineteenth century English
society. Suzanne Edgar is resplendent in a pink confection which ties to the
script when Innocenti compares her to a pink rose in act three.
Written by Oscar Wilde. Directed by Dorothy Neumann.
Design: Eric and Kerry Lucas (set) Bill Pucilowsky (costumes) Katrina
Wiskup and Carol H. Baker (properties) Dan Martin (lights and sound) Ray
Gniewek (photography) Daniel Chavez (stage manager). Cast: Erin Buchanan,
John F. Degen, Christopher Dinolfo, Suzanne Edgar, Melissa Hmelnicky, Mike
Innocenti, Barbara Klein, Rosemary Regan. |
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April 12 - May 19, 2007
A Man for All
Seasons
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 2:45 - one intermission
Performed at the Church Street
Theatre
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for a superbly engrossing
and moving drama
Click here to buy the script |
It is hard to say which of two major performances in this absorbing
historical drama is the most satisfying - Tim Lynch as the man of
conscience, Sir Thomas Moore, or Robert Leembruggen as "Common Man" who acts
both the narrator and a host of smaller but not insignificant characters (he
goes from servant to executioner). Both Lynch and Leembruggen are wonderful
in their own way. Director Susan Marie Rhea shifts the
focus from one to the other and back again with such felicity that there is
a sense of balance to match the heft of the author's more deeply moving
moments. That author, English playwright Robert Bolt, wrote this as a paean
to individual devotion to conscience. He avoided excessive preachiness
through the use of humor and his ability to keep Sir Thomas from seeming
pride-bound. Still, in the wrong hands the play can seem a diatribe. Not
here. Here it is a moving drama with all of its lessons entirely worth
learning. Seeing it in this production is a pleasure not to be missed.
Storyline: In the reign of Henry VIII, Sir Thomas Moore rises to the
exalted rank of Lord Chancellor and advisor to the King. When Henry declares
himself the supreme head of the Church of England and breaks with the Roman
Catholic Church in order to divorce the first of his six wives in search of
an heir, Moore's conscience will not allow him to accede to the King's
demand for support. His steadfast refusal leads to his execution.
This is another of the marvelous, intellectually
satisfying dramas of the middle of the twentieth century that came out of
the flirtation with repression which is now often just regarded as the Red
Scare of McCarthyism. It was 1954, and Arthur Miller's The Crucible
had just opened on Broadway, when Bolt's play was performed on the BBC in
England where the furor over Klaus Fuchs' conviction as a Soviet spy had
only recently calmed down. Conscience in the face of authority seemed to
need championing (doesn't it always?). The success of the radio play
convinced him to convert it to a full theatrical play, which opened in London
and then was produced successfully on Broadway, winning the Tony Award for
Best Play in 1962. There followed a movie with Paul Scofield winning an
Oscar for his performance, and a made-for-television movie with Charlton
Heston taking on the role. Now, memories of Scofield and Heston can blend
with Lynch for those who see this production, for his performance will
certainly linger long in the mind.
Lynch is the focus of so many of the scenes, his must
be the performance that gets the bulk of the attention, and, thus, the bulk
of the praise. He's both superbly human and tremendously principled - no
mean feat. His explanations of his reasons for being true to his convictions
("you could as well ask me to change the color of my eyes") could sound so
stuffy from one who seems filled with the pride in high office. Instead,
there is a real humility here that makes his adherence to fundamental
beliefs completely natural and sympathetic. Leembruggen comes to the fore time and time
again to keep the play moving along and to act as the audience's guide to
what is happening. After all, the events took place almost five hundred
years ago, so audiences need some way to put some of the offices,
relationships and duties into perspective. Leembruggen also provides some of
the much-needed comic relief. Indeed, he strikes just the right comedic tone
with his very first line, the opening line of the entire play.
The supporting cast offers performances of varying
quality. Some, like Charlotte Akin as Moore's wife and Jon Townson as his
sovereign are simply marvelous. Akin's portrayal of the progress of Alice
Moore's steadily escalating sense of panic over her husband's fate is
fascinating, and Townson gives us an all-too-brief look at the young and
virile Henry VIII, so unlike the old man in search of a sixth wife we so
often see. Carlos Bustamante is very good as the corruptible Richard Rich,
as is Jake Call as the Spanish Ambassador to Henry's court. Unfortunately, Mark Rhea never seems even English
let alone a member of the English court as Thomas Cromwell. Trudi Olivetti makes a fine
contribution in the small part of the woman who gave Moore a gift that plays
in the plot, but she makes even more of a contribution as the production's dramaturg, for she created a fascinating study guide which many will want to
consult after being challenged by this challenging play. It is available
online at Keegan's website.
Written by Robert Bolt. Directed by Susan Marie Rhea.
Design: George Lucas (set) Kelly Peacock (costumes) Katrina Wiskup
(properties) Dan Martin (lights) Timothy S. Shaw (sound)
Ray Gniewek (photography) Christina Coakley (stage manager). Cast: Kevin
Adams, Charlotte Akin, Carlos Bustamante, Jake Call, Melissa-Leigh Douglass,
Jim Howard, Mike Kozemchak, Robert Leembruggen, Timothy Hayes Lynch, Trudi
Olivetti, Mark Rhea, Jon Townson. |
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January 18 - February 17, 2007
The
Tempest
Reviewed by
William Bryan |
Running
time 2:30 - one intermission
An enjoyable production of Shakespeare’s last play
Performances at the
Church Street Theatre.
Click here to buy the script |
Shakespeare in Washington continues with
this production of the Bard’s last play by the Keegan Theater. Featuring a
unique set representing all of an enchanted island without scene changes,
and with a very experienced actor in the lead role, this production hits all
of the right notes but doesn’t quite soar. The overall impact is enjoyable
and it is fairly humorous at times. Any work by Shakespeare requires an
ensemble performance. Though a powerful lead remains necessary, the lead
cannot carry the show alone. Here Robert Leembruggen provides a strong
center for Shakespeare’s romantic fantasy and is well supported by the
actress playing the sprite Ariel. Too often, however, the supporting cast
shows it lacks the level of experience with the language and cadence of
Shakespeare to make the archaic tongue easy to understand. Still, the
production is a good opportunity to experience this play for the first time
or to return once more to the birth of such famous lines as “Misery
acquaints a man with strange bedfellows” and “We are such stuff as dreams
are made of…”
Storyline: Deposed Duke
Prospero, abandoned on a desert island lo these dozen years, sees his
opportunity for justice when his usurper passes by in a ship. Prospero, who
has used his time studying sorcery, conjures up a fierce storm during which
his usurper's party abandons their foundering ship and washes up on his
island. Prospero's daughter falls in love with the usurper's son. The
usurper and his entourage get involved in many schemes as Prospero's revenge
proceeds, but all are reconciled through the love of parents for children
and children for each other.
Director Timothy Shaw stages an admirable show and brings out the best in
each of his performers. The lead, Prospero, and the “airy spirit” Ariel, are
the two best in the show. Robert Leembruggen, as the deposed Duke, brings
with him a long history and many performances of Shakespearean work. He has
clearly studied his craft and his Prospero sets a high standard of
excellence not matched by all of the cast. Courtney Weber, however, is
outstanding as Ariel. Her mannerisms and movements, from a stilted walk to a
habit of closing her eyes for long periods of time, go a long way toward
suspending disbelief and letting us see the other worldly creature she
represents.
The Church Street Theater lacks wing
space and this imposes limits on the set designer and director alike. The
set by George Lucas is admirable in its single-structure solution to the
confines of the small stage, but the result that all the scenes use the same
space. Scene changes are often signaled by some creative lighting effects by
Dan Martin, bit it takes a concerted effort by the audience to accept some
of these different settings. The best feature is the ship of the ill fated
voyage that opens the saga. It collapses through some clever construction to
become the home of Prospero and his daughter for the remainder of the play.
The lush vegetation, and the subtle but ever present sound effects of a
living jungle, all blend together to make a fantasy island in a limited
space.
Since all of Shakespeare’s works are way
beyond copyright, each theater can change what they will. There are some
changes here that worked well and others that did not. Shaw chose to make
one sailor a southern drunk, and this works to hysterical effect. Not so his
casting a female as the King’s brother. While she was not disguised as a
male, neither was she dressed female, so her obvious sexual difference
caused an abrupt clash each time some reference was made to her gender. But
these are minor flaws, and as a whole the night is worth the trip downtown
for an intimate setting and some unique experiences.
Written by William
Shakespeare. Directed by Timothy S. Shaw (and sound design). Design: George
Lucas (set) Kit Sibley and Jean Schlichting (costumes) Dan Martin (lights)
Ray Gneiwek
(photography) Helen Lynn
(stage manager). Cast: Joe Baker, Jeremy Brown, Jewel Greenberg, Mike
Gregorek, Rob Leembruggen, Sarah Melinda, Eric Messner, Tim O’Kane, Guy
Palace, John Porter, Laura Quenzl, Ally Raber, Courtney Weber, Alia Williams. |
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January 5 - February 3, 2007
Mojo Mickybo
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway
|
Running time 1:10 - no intermission
t A Potomac Stages Pick for
an energetic, entertaining hour
Click here to buy the script |
What is, or more properly, who are Mojo Mickybo? The title of Owen
McCafferty's two-performer slice of Irish life provides no clue to the
meaning of the phrase to anyone who doesn't already know about the play. So
the piece opens with an explanation - an introduction. "Mojo" says a young
man with "Mojo" on his shirt. "Mickybo" says a young man with "Mickybo" on
his shirt. They repeat it until you finally get it - those are their
nicknames. But the title isn't "Mojo AND Mickybo" and therein lies a clue to
the energetic, engaging power of the piece. The two, who turn out to be
pre-adolescent (age ten or eleven?) boys merge into a single entity - a
pair. Just the way Paul Newman and Robert Redford blended into what might
well have been called "ButchCassidyTheSundanceKid." Two marvelously
flexible actors not only bring Mojo and Mickybo to life, they bring all the
characters interacting with the pair both in reality and in their
imagination to life as well.
Storyline: Two young boys on the streets of Belfast may be from opposite
sides of the religious troubles enveloping Ireland in the 70s, but their shared
fascination with Hollywood male bonding films, especially Butch
Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,
forms the
basis for a friendship strong enough to provide escape from the dangers and
terrors of the violence that surrounds them.
McCafferty's play is a relatively new addition
to the body of Irish slice of life plays that seem to capitalize on the
colorful nature of not only the local brogue but the romantic mindset that
values ability to build stories out of small details. It shares the source
of fascination and enjoyment of Mark O'Rowe's
Howie the Rookie,
Marie Jones'
Stones in his Pockets, Conor McPherson's
The Weir and
even Enda Walsh's
Disco Pigs. It revels in its own theatricality and reveals the
impact of domestic strife through the accumulation of tiny details. Here the
world is viewed through the eyes of kids too young to understand the
historic importance of their times but old enough to feel the pains of both
normal growing up and of the adult conflicts that circumscribe their world.
The seventy minutes fly by at a carefully
established pace. It seems pell-mell but is, in fact, carefully controlled
and cleverly modulated. Director Eric Lucas keeps adjusting that pace so it
is not so fast that it is as exhausting for the audience as it must be for
the performers, and certainly not so fast that there isn't time for the
careful listening required due to the Irish brogue they sport. But it is
always fast enough to keep the tempo impressive and the energy level high.
Part of the reason the pace seems so right is that moments of movement
punctuate explosions of dialogue, giving you time to translate the Irish
street vocabulary into meaning without any apparent pause. Through it all,
the focus on the progression of the boys' tale is clear and precise. This is
directing that is worthy of study.
The performers, Dinolfo and Innocenti, mesh so well that
it is difficult to discuss their individual contributions to the piece. If
Mojo and Mickybo are "Mojo Mickybo" then Dinolfo and Innocenti are "Dinolfo
Innocenti." They rely on their own physical differences - as well as the
fact that their characters' nicknames are written on their shirts - to help
the audience keep things straight and lose themselves in the energetic
cavorting of young friends at play. What is more impressive is that their
creation of the adult characters in the kids' story is consistent with the
children's view. These are adults as seen by their children, not as they
really are. But children are incredibly perceptive so their versions of the
adults are insightful in fresh ways. The script gives them the material and
they run with it - literally!
Written by
Owen McCafferty. Directed by Eric Lucas. Designed by Kerry and Eric Lucas.
Lighting by Dan Martin. Photo by Ray Gneiwek. Cast: Christopher Dinolfo, Michael Innocenti.
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November 30 - December 23, 2006
Faith Healer
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway
|
Running time: 2:25 - one intermission
An intriguing display of acting skills in a quartet
of lyrical monologues
Performances are at Theatre II in the Gunston Arts Center
Click here to buy the script |
Irish playwright Brian Friel’s monologue play presents great opportunities
for three actors and these three take full advantage. Each creates a strong
character with identifiable traits that make the person human, not just a
dramatic device. In the interactions between their stories there are enough
common touches to convince you that these people's lives really did
intersect and their fortunes did combine, but just how is a bit unclear. That
may well be intentional, leaving some of the connections to your
imagination. The play may well mean different things to different members of
the audience. This is the first offering of Keegan's new
program of smaller, more intimate productions at a somewhat lower price ($15
for students and seniors, $20 general admission) under the stewardship of
Eric and Kerry Waters Lucas. The mission statement of this "New Island
Project" includes a marvelous description of the impact of this, their first
production: "a predominately gray palate provides an open setting where
actor and word are the strongest colors to tell the story." Of course, it
helps that the words are Brian Friel's.
Storyline: An Irishman who has made something
of a career traveling the back roads of Wales and Scotland holding healing
sessions, often with no more than a dozen or so participants, tells the
story of when he returned to Ireland with his wife (if wife she was) and his
manager for what turned out to be his final tour.
Monologue plays are always tricky, because, while
one monologue can be fascinating, four can be too much of a good thing. Each
monologue must have a dramatic structure of its own, building to a climax as
well as creating a character. The challenge for a playwright is to give the
entire play a dramatic structure building to its own climax. Friel is best
known for his language. His ability to capture the lyric beauty of the Irish
way of speaking has never been more evident than it is here. His language
works on three levels: There is the beauty of the sound; there is the joy of
the wordplay; there is the story itself. Friel’s other plays often feel a
bit mechanical in their plots and a monologue play could easily fall prey to this
weakness. Instead, the formal structure of four monologues (the faith healer
opens and closes the play with the wife and the manager flanking the
intermission) turns out to be a help as he places plot details within the
narratives.
Both of the Lucases deliver Friel's language with
strong Irish brogues. Kerry Waters Lucas is the most understandable as her
brogue is lyrical and musical without being thick or dense. Eric Lucas, on
the other hand, does slip into a density from time to time that forces the
listener to concentrate on interpreting the sound in the way you might have
to identify a foreign word or phrase before turning your attention to its
meaning. It is challenging to keep up with his meaning, but it is rewarding.
Mick Tinder sets himself apart from the pair by adopting a slightly cockney
tinged English accent appropriate to the manager of tours on the eastern
side of the Irish Sea. All three succeed in capturing and holding the
audience's attention.
In establishing their "gray palate," the Lucases have
designed a simple stage - planking with a single strand of lights, a curtain
and a poster announcing the faith healing session. Eric Lucas' "Frank" owns
the center - the center stage where he delivered so many of his messages of
faith, while Kerry Waters Lucas' "Grace" is off to one side - cast away from
the center of her man's life, and Mick Tinder's "Teddy" on the other, trying
to maintain his own separation from the fate of his friend/partner/stranger.
The whole is flanked by two tellingly empty chairs. Dan Martin's lighting
merges the disparate parts.
Written by Brian Friel. Directed by Mark A. Rhea.
Design: Kerry Waters Lucas and Eric Lucas (set) Dan Martin (lights) Ray
Gneiwek (photography) Mike Innocenti (stage manager). Cast: Eric Lucas,
Kerry Waters Lucas, Mick Tinder. |
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-October 19 - November 19, 2006
Agnes of God
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 2:00 - one intermission
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for three fine
performances in an emotionally
charged intellectual drama
Performances
at the Church Street Theatre
Click here to buy the script |
There are two ways to approach this fascinating debate
play pitting faith against rationality. One is to pretend its issues are
such that the truth can be divined in a mere two hours, even if the history
of the last two millennia proves the opposite. This is the easy way out. The
other is to admit that there are complications that keep escaping human
analysis - matters of faith and miracles which conflict with human
frailties. The later is the harder to construct but it is the only approach
that can be thoroughly satisfying, and it is that approach that director
Susan Marie Rhea adopts. Her production resolutely refuses to resolve the
issues at hand. Instead, it airs all sides of a fascinating argument. Notice
that there are not just two sides. Issues of religious faith and human
relationships rarely have either one or even just two answers, and the final
answers are rarely determined with any finality. Rhea and her marvelous cast
let the ambiguities float in the air as the lights come up at the end of the
production, and they trust the intellectual capacities of their audience to
grapple with multi-faceted issues without the crutch of simplicity.
Storyline: A dead infant has been discovered in a wastebasket in the convent
bedroom of a nun. A court-appointed psychiatrist tries to reach the truth in
the case by interviewing both the nun and her Mother Superior.
John Pielmeier's play does include answers to many of
the questions confronting the nun, the Mother Superior and the psychiatrist,
but placing any sort of emphasis on the clues embedded in the text does a
disservice to the confounding complications that define human relationships.
Especially those between these three characters, one wise in the ways of the
world, one wise in the ways of the church, and one naive in both worlds. Each
raises issues that neither of the others can resolve completely. This is the
key to both the theatrical magic the play can work and to the intellectual
and emotional honesty that marks Rhea's approach. In pursuing this approach
she places her confidence in the three actresses.
That trust is not misplaced. Sheri Herren carries
herself with the assurance of professional success in the secular world.
Linda High contrasts Herren's semi-haughty self assurance with a sense of
command as the Mother Superior tempered by a worldly wisdom of a woman with
years of marriage preceding her taking of vows. Ghillian Porter has an
emotional charge within her naivety that makes her claims of innocent
confusion affecting. High delivers the most complex performance of the
three. Herren has a bit of a problem with her character's addiction to
nicotine. Smoking on stage is always difficult for a non-smoker. We don't
know if Herren is a non-smoker, but she uses cigarettes on stage as props
rather than something to hang on to the way nicotine addicts do.
One secret of the success of this production is the
spare but elegant setting. Nothing distracts your attention from the
intellectual issues being presented, but nothing seems either cheap or
excessively theatrical. Using just draped flimsy curtain material to flank
a plain playing area furnished simply with a chair and an ashtray, with a
prayer station on an upstage platform, attention is focused on the three
performances and the issues presented. While a touch of music emphasizes the
locale of a convent, the sounds in the production reinforce but in no way
distract from the interplay of intellectual debate or the interrelationships
of the characters.
Written by John Pielmeier. Directed by Susan Marie
Rhea. Design: George Lucas (set) Maggie Butler (costumes) Dan Martin
(lights) Rich Montgomery and Susan Marie Rhea (sound) Ray Gneiwek
(photography) Megan Thrift (stage manager). Cast: Sheri S. Herren, Linda
High, Ghillian Porter. |
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July 27 - August 19, 2006
Picasso at the Lapin
Agile |
Running time 1:40 - no intermission
A comedy of ideas by Steve Martin
Performances in Theatre II at the
Gunston Arts Center
Click here to buy the script |
If you missed the production of Steve Martin's comedy of ideas earlier this
year at the Little
Theatre of Alexandria, here's your chance for a make-up. It is proof
that Martin isn't just another "wild and crazy guy" cavorting before the
cameras. He's also a clever writer who has produced television scripts,
screenplays, novellas and plays -- both original and adaptations. His
adaptation of Carl Sternheim's
The
Underpants was given a highly successful production by the
Washington Stage Guild three years ago. His most successful play, however,
is this one-act comedy built on a fictitious meeting between two of the most
famous people of the twentieth century, who, long before they were famous and
at the very start of the century, debate just what is in store for the next
100 years. The play seems a strange choice for Keegan, with its traditional
concentration on heavier works of theater, but they give it a game try and
get some - but not all - of the flippantry right while they hammer home many
of Martin's pithier observations on art, science, popular culture and human
nature.
Storyline: In the Paris of 1904, in a small
neighborhood bar called the Lapin Agile, which actually exists in Montmontre,
the local patrons include an as-yet undiscovered artist named Pablo Picasso
and an as-yet unpublished physicist named Albert Einstein. Over glasses of
wine they explain to the other patrons their views of what the new century
holds, a century they each believe will be defined by their gifts. However,
they are joined by two others who may be icons of the new century.
Martin wrote this diverting piece in 1993 and it
has had a remarkably steady series of productions in small professional and
community theaters ever since it premiered as the inaugural production of
Chicago's Steppenwolf Theatre Company. It was greeted as full of optimism,
wit and insight, dealing with sometimes weighty issues without being weighed
down by any pomposity, and without taking itself too seriously. The play
continues to offer just those delights. Scott Pafumi
directs this production with an eye toward the more intellectually
interesting issues Martin chose to deal with, but, perhaps as a result of
some casting choices, misses with some of the lighter, more "wild and crazy
guy" touches.
The casting offers two very fine fits. Most
specifically, Susan Marie Rhea, who has demonstrated a flair for light
comedy before, especially in her very first outing with Keegan, the
western-themed The Taming of the Shrew back before the launching of Potomac
Stages. She is a bright delight as the barmaid who is the bartender's
girlfriend. Also doing fine light comedy work is Eric Lucas as Einstein. We
are more used to seeing him do heavier parts but he throws off light lines
here with aplomb. That light touch comes clearest in Martin's crucial
exchange between Einstein and Picasso
over the meaning of their work. (Picasso: "... yours is letters." Einstein:
"Yours is lines." Picasso: "My lines mean something." Einstein: "So do
mine." Picasso: "Mine touches the heart." Einstein: "Mine touches the head."
Picasso: "Mine will change the future." Einstein: "Oh, and mine won't?")
That light exchange with such important concepts works
best when both Picasso and Einstein are tossing off the lines in rapid
repartee. Unfortunately, in Mark Rhea's hands, the Picasso side of the
equation gets bogged down in a touch of angst that Rhea just doesn't seem to
be able to shed from his normal stage persona. The
extremely wide playing area of George Lucas' set is a challenge
that Pafumi doesn't really solve in blocking the piece. Almost all of Lucas'
good lines are delivered across the stage, hidden from those sitting on the
right side of the house, while many of Rhea's shoot across the opposite
direction which makes them hard to catch from the left.
Written by Steve Martin. Directed by Scott D. Pafumi.
Design: George Lucas (set) Maria Vetsch (costumes) Katrina Wiskup and Sheri
Herren (properties) Dan Martin (lights and sound) Ray Gniewek (photography)
Helen Lynn (stage manager). Cast: James A. Howard, Mike Kozemchak, Katie
Loughnane, Eric Lucas, Kerry Waters Lucas, Rich Montgomery, Brian Randall,
Jackie Reed, Mark Rhea, Susan Marie Rhea, Jennifer Richter, Mick Tinder.
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April 27 - June 11, 2006
Bold Girls |
Reviewed April 29
Running time 2:00 - one intermission
t
A Potomac Stages pick for a fine ensemble performance of
an absorbing drama
Click here to buy the script |
When Keegan gets a piece right, they really get it right. Frequently, when
they hit dramatic pay dirt it is with a play by an Irish author. This play
isn't by an Irish author but it is Irish to the core. Playwright Rona Munro
was born in Scotland and lives and works in London, but her portrait of life
under the corrosive pressure of the violence of Ireland's "Troubles" feels
like a slice of Belfast life, and its characters ring true in Mark A. Rhea's
production featuring sterling performances from four accomplished actresses.
The brogue here is definitively Irish but never gets in the way of following
the dialogue and the physical production has the same feeling that the
actresses accent has, deep down, honest Irish in sensitivity, appearance,
sound and pace. These people have been drained by the violence of the world
around them but retain a sense of self-worth, pride and, if not hope, at
least an expectation that they will be able to survive. They are four women
you come to know, understand and care about over two absorbing hours.
Performances will be at Theatre II in Arlington's Gunston Arts Center
until May 13 and then the production will transfer to the Church Street
Theater in Washington for a May 18 - June 11 run.
Storyline: A woman and her grown daughter live next door to a young woman
with children in violence-marred West Belfast at the height of "The
Troubles" where they try to maintain some semblance of normal life despite
the fact that all of the men in their lives have either been killed or
imprisoned. Into the yard between them wonders a waif with more than a
passing connection to their pasts.
Munro's
play is smoothly plotted with details of the relationship of the four women
emerging slowly out of small details in the dialogue. The concentration is
on the creation of the characters and the establishment of their
relationships to each other - at least among the three residents of the war
torn neighborhood in West Belfast. Rhea allows tiny details in the action to
match the details in the dialogue to create a sense of reality, especially
within the one house where most of the action takes place. A glance out
a window, a weary shudder at a distant sound, a short search for a cigarette
- these are the unremarkable everyday actions of life in this place at this
time. As the more dramatic revelations emerge late in the play, the pace
accelerates and the intensity escalates but Rhea makes sure that the
escalation never gets ahead of the story.
Fine ensemble work is the hallmark of this production.
The four actresses work together smoothly to create the sense of reality and
to help each other establish characteristics that mark each character. They
listen to each other and react to each other's lines in visible but never
showy ways. Ghillian Porter covers the widest range of emotions in the
central role of the woman raising her children without her husband. She
nicely avoids excesses early in the play in order to set up the impact of
her explosion later on. Helen Pafumi and Linda High seem to communicate in
the recognition of small signs as a mother and daughter can, picking up on
each other's gestures, postures and tone of voice. Coming as the stranger to
this trio of women who know each other so well, Carolyn Agan enters the
world of the play tentatively and even furtively. She becomes a major force
rather than a furtive presence when the plot allows, covering a range of
emotions in the final revelation scene.
George Lucas' set spreads out along the wide side of
the rectangular black box of Theatre II with Porter's house on the right
and a structure on the left that becomes the club the girls escape to for one night out
as "Bold Girls" trying to ignore if not escape the reality of the danger and
violence filling their world. Between the two structures, he's placed a ramp
that is part alleyway, part hillside and part no man's land. The final
lighting effect as dawn brings a new beginning is beautifully realized.
Written by Rona Munro. Directed by Mark A. Rhea.
Design: George Lucas (set) Maria Vetsch (costumes) Dan Martin (lights)
Tony Angelini (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Megan Thrift (stage
manager). Cast: Carolyn Agan, Linda High, Helen Pafumi, Ghillian Porter. |
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January 19 -
February 26, 2006
Death of a Salesman |
Reviewed January 24
Running time 2:45 - one intermission
Arthur Miller’s Pulitzer Prize winning tragedy
Click here to buy the script |
Keegan returns to Church Street with a classic play of the failure of the American dream,
Arthur Miller's portrait of a salesman who believes in success “riding on a smile and a shoeshine” but whose
life collapses on all sides. Dorothy Neumann directs Brian Hemmingsen in one of the
most famous roles in the American dramatic repertoire. Any production of the
play rises or falls on the performance of its title character, the salesman Willy Loman. This one never
really falls flat in Hemmingsen's hands, but it never soars to the heights of tragedy
that are available in Miller's script. At times Hemmingsen seems
to be Hemmingsen playing Willy rather than being Willy - and that is a
burden the rest of the capable cast can't completely overcome.
Storyline: At the end of a career as a
traveling salesman, each of Willy Loman’s dreams turns sour. He looses his
job. His children turn out not to be the successes he dreamed about. He has
a loving wife but he hasn’t been faithful to her. He comes to believe that
he is worth more dead than alive, at least until the next premium on his
life insurance policy is due.
Hemmingsen
uses too many gestures, postures and mannerisms that draw attention to the
fact that he is acting. From his first entrance as Willy, as he sets down
his salesman's sample cases, he deflates in a move so dramatic you almost
look to see if this Willy thinks there is someone in the house watching. He
is surrounded by some fine talent. Charlotte Akin does nicely with the role
of his wife and her final, graveside scene is quite affecting. Mike
Innocenti successfully tackles the always difficult role of the oh-so-shallow youngest
son who can abandon his father in the midst of an emotional breakdown to
chase a skirt. Mark Rhea has his moments as the older son who sees the
truth behind the lies that have made up his father's life, especially his
final confrontation scene when he calls his father's bluff and intones the
mantra "I'm a dime a dozen, Willy. A dime a dozen!" Rhea looks
strangely small next to the towering Hemmingsen, which enhances Rhea's
ability to portray the son's realization that he isn't the giant of a man
his father thinks he is.
Some of the finest performances come from outside of
the Loman family. David Jourdan delivers a nicely crafted rendition of the
next door neighbor who tries to help Willy without embarrassing him, and
Christopher Dinolfo grows from teenage neighborhood nerd to mature success as the Jourdan's
son. Susan Marie Rhea finds the balance between seductiveness and crass
manipulation as the buyer's secretary at one of Willy's out of town stops.
She is very good in her one
full scene, a crucial one which reveals both Willy's adultery and the
crisis with his son.
The play has often drawn some of the most interesting
incidental music to underscore its raw emotions. The original Broadway
production had a score by the great Alex North that is still available on a
CD for use in local productions of the play. Keegan uses original
underscoring composed by Matt Rippetoe which is both evocative and
effective. In addition the atmosphere is enhanced by playing recordings by the
Washington Saxophone Quartet of music by Bela Bartok and Aaron Copland to
create an eerily contemporary American feel before and after the
performance. (Was there a bit of Piazzolla
mixed in there as well?)
Written by Arthur Miller. Directed by Dorothy Neumann.
Incidental music performed by the Washington Saxophone Quartet. Design:
Stefan Gibson (set) Maggie Butler (costumes) Dan Martin (lights) Matt
Rippetoe (sound and music) Ray Gniewek (photography) Sean Corcoran
(stage manager). Cast: Kevin Adams, Charlotte Akin, Jake Call, Christopher
Dinolfo, Jewel Greenberg, Brian Hemmingsen, Mike Innocenti, David
Jourdan, Callie Kimball, Mike Kozemchak, Mark Rhea, Susan Marie Rhea.
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November 17 - December 17, 2005
Portrait of a
Madonna and
Suddenly Last Summer |
Reviewed November 19
Running time 2:20 - one intermission
Performances at Gunston Arts Center
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for a pair of stunning
performances by a single actress
Click here to buy the script
Click here to buy the script |
There are two reasons to see this pair of one-act plays by Tennessee Williams:
Sheri S. Herren
and Sheri S. Herren. In one she is a haggard, completely worn out woman
overwhelmed by her world. In the other she is an imperious, self-controlled
and self-absorbed woman used to overwhelming the rest of the people in her
world. Each performance is magnetic, tightly controlled and completely
independent of the other. Williams' two short pieces have the strength of plot,
the uniqueness of character and the poetry of language for which he is so
well known. The evening is directed
by Leslie A. Kobylinski which is another good reason to see the pairing. As
is her habit, she
brings out the best in the entire company. That company includes some
actors whose best is very good indeed, including Marybeth Fritsky and Timothy
Hayes Lynch.
Storyline(s): (Portrait of a Madonna)
An aging former Southern Belle with a history of mental instability reaches
the end of her rope. Living alone in an apartment before World War II, she
is tormented by hallucinations of intrusions and rape. Her demands for
increased security serve only to bring her condition to the attention of the
outside world. (Suddenly Last Summer) In her garden in New Orleans in
1935, the mother of a young man who was killed on vacation summons her niece
who witnessed the death, and a doctor who is developing a new psychological
treatment: a lobotomy. The story the niece reveals is devastating to
the mother who wants it suppressed even if by surgery.
While some of his better known works (A
Streetcar Named Desire, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, The Glass Menagerie) may have
been produced often enough that audiences no longer hear the dialogue with
fresh ears, these two short pieces let us hear again, as if for the first
time, Williams' astonishing capacity to create imagery in the briefest of
descriptions and capture essential concepts in brief statements. So often,
writers use an example from Suddenly Last Summer of his ability to
encapsulate a mind set in a brief statement -- the twelve words "We all use each other. That's what we think of as love."
However, they often neglect the
sentence that follows it which says that not being able to use each other is
what we call "hate". Its that quick reversal, seemingly so redundant
but profound in its effect, that
changes a lecture into a thought process.
Suddenly Last Summer is not really famous because of its success as a play but because it was adapted for a
movie and the movie broke more Hollywood taboos per foot of film than
anything since the establishment of the Hayes Office, that legendary
exercise in self-censorship the industry adopted one step ahead of
governmental intervention. Portrait of a Madonna, on the other hand, isn't
famous at all. Both provide star parts for a female lead. Three years ago
when the Port City Playhouse presented these two together they had different
actresses in the two parts. Here, instead, Kobylinski entrusts both parts to
Herren. She had reason for her confidence having directed her in Harold
Pinter play Betrayal.
Herren's twin performances justify the confidence.
Marybeth Fritzky has the other strong female part (this
one in Suddenly Last Summer) and she acquits herself well although
she is just a bit restrained in her final breakdown as the niece who is
facing the possibility of a lobotomy because of the knowledge she holds in
her brain. Timothy Hayes Lynch does a
splendid job of being sympathetic toward the decrepit old woman in Portrait
of a Madonna without seeming mawkish. Kudos as well go to the design team,
especially Keith Bell whose sound design could well be used by other better
financed companies as a guide to making both off stage and on stage sounds
seem authentic.
Written by Tennessee Williams. Directed by
Leslie A. Kobylinski. Design: Grant Kevin Lane (set and costumes) Arthur
Rodger (hair and make-up) Suzanne Maloney (properties) Franklin C. Coleman
(lights) Keith Bell (sound) Ray Gniewek
(photography) Donna Reynolds (stage manager). Cast: Marybeth Fritzky,
Kathryn Fuller, Maggie Glauber, Scott Graham, Jewel Greenberg, Sheri S.
Herren, Timothy Hayes Lynch, Mike Sherman, Chuck Whalen. |
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October 27 - December 3, 2005
A Streetcar
Named Desire |
Reviewed November 3
Running time 2:45 - one intermission
Performed at the Church Street Theater
A classic of the American theater
Click here to buy the script |
The story of the Andrew Keegan Theatre Company really began here at the
Church Street Theater with Eric Lucas and Mark A. Rhea co-directing a
Tennessee Williams classic some eight years ago. That play was Cat on a
Hot Tin Roof and it brought Keegan to the attention of the entire
Potomac Region. This year, Lucas and Rhea have teamed up again on Williams
with a searing if not necessarily soaring production of Streetcar
which they toured throughout Ireland this summer and have brought home to
the Church Street Theater. Again Rhea is the leading man.
This time he's an earthy and physical Stanley Kowalski acting opposite his
real-life wife, Susan Marie Rhea, who is the strength of the play as his
deeply-in-love wife and the affectionate sister to Kerry Waters' less
successful take on the classic Williams woman, frail and failing Blanche DuBois. This time out, however, Lucas also takes the stage and his
performance as the shy and halting man who will be either Blanche's
salvation or the final straw that breaks her spirit elevates the secondary
plot to its proper place in the drama.
Storyline: After having lost the family
estate and her welcome in the small Mississippi town of her birth, fragile
Blanche DuBois has no place to turn for sanctuary other than her younger
sister's home in the French Quarter in New Orleans. When she arrives she's
shocked to find her sister's home is a rundown two-room flat where she lives
with her decidedly blue collar, rough-around-the-edges husband. As she
spends a summer on the couch she's stripped of her remaining pretensions of
gentility and even sanity.
Streetcar
burst into the public consciousness in 1947. It was a time when the American
theater played a greater role in popular culture than it does today, so it
may be difficult today to imagine the reaction to this tale of lust and love at
the edges of sanity. It won the Pulitzer Prize for Drama, earned a Tony
Award for Jessica Tandy as its Blanche and a life magazine cover for its
Stanley, Marlon Brando, whose anguished scream "Stella!" became a catchword
for a generation and material for impersonators for half a century. It was
the second hit for Williams. The Glass Menagerie had preceded it and
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and Sweet Bird of Youth were still to
come.
Kerry Waters' Blanche enters with more physical
strength than many other actresses show, but with her emotional weaknesses
already evident. Her emotional deterioration is well modulated but so many
of Williams' mellifluous lines written for this deteriorating southern belle
seem swallowed in her rather unusual cooing accent. At the same time, her
reactions to her new surroundings seem somehow less horrified, less repulsed
than simply upset over the inconvenience of it all. She is surrounded by
three very strong performances. The Rheas make the relationship between
Stanley and Stella a clear case of can't-keep-their-eyes-off-each-other
love. Susan Rhea adds a lovely sibling affection and even a sense of loyalty
toward her older sister that works well, while Mark Rhea emphasizes the
affection over the sense of possessiveness that underlies their
relationship. Lucas' Mitch grows from shy and retiring to hopeful and even
slightly daring before being crushed by reality in a splendidly balanced
performance. The supporting cast includes an unsatisfying portrayal of the
couple upstairs by Rich Montgomery and especially Jennifer Richter, and a
strange doubling by Joe Baker.
George Lucas' multi-level set, which must have been
designed to accommodate the many different size stages for the production's
Ireland tour, sits quite effectively on the Church Street stage. The
lighting and sound designs seem a bit mechanical, however, as lights dim or
shine and train sounds roll by and whistles whine abruptly on cue. The
feeling that sounds and lights are in accordance with the cues in the script
lessens any feeling that the action is taking place in the open cacophony
that was New Orleans French Quarter, with swarming sounds of jazz, commerce
and life. And, the choice of music seems way too formal, as if the jazz heard on
Bourbon Street was the same as the dance bands of Manhattan.
Written by Tennessee Williams. Directed by Eric Lucas
and Mark A. Rhea. Design: George Lucas (set) Shadia A. Hafiz (costumes) Dan
Martin (lights) Tony Angelini and Matt Rippetoe (sound) Ray Gniewek
(photography) Lisa Shogren (stage manager). Cast: Carol Hood Baker, Joe
Baker, Mike Kosemchak, Eric Lucas, Rich Montgomery, Mark A. Rhea, Susan
Marie Rhea, Jennifer Richter, Kerry Walters. |
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June 23 - July 30, 2005
The Beauty
Queen of Leenane |
Reviewed June 30
Running time 2:05 - one intermission
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for four strong performances of an emotionally charged play
Click
here to buy the script |
There aren't many plays out there as good a match for the
aura and feel of Keegan Theatre as those of Martin McDonagh's Leenane
Trilogy. The richness of the attachment to the land, the openness of the
language, the fatalism that permeates the attitudes, and the intensity of
love/hate relationships that the Keegan folk seem to cherish and which they
are so good at replicating on this side of the Atlantic is the essence of
these plays. Earlier this year Keegan's Artistic Director Mark A. Rhea
teamed up with Artistic Associate Eric Lucas to appear in a production of
another in the trilogy,
The Lonesome West, under the
auspices of SCENA theater. Now Rhea directs four Keegan veterans in the
first of those three plays set in the small town of Connemara. On the basis
of these two, one hopes that Keegan will add the third, A Skull in
Connemara, to their schedule soon.
Storyline: In a cottage in the small town of
Leenane in the west of Ireland, a grumpy elderly woman is tended by her
forty-year-old spinster daughter who has all but given up on finding a mate,
when one of the local men who have gone off to find work in England returns
for a visit and shows an interest in her. The spiteful relationship between
the women is exacerbated and even descends to ugly violence in the tug of
war between the daughter's hopes and the mother's fears.
Leenane is a tiny village in County Galway, about as
far west as you can get in Ireland. Now, as in the early 1960s when this
play seems to be set, there just aren't many opportunities for young men and
women, so most leave in the search for jobs. Those who remain have a fierce,
if frequently unspoken, attachment to the place mixed with a fatalism and a
lack of expectations that things will improve. Just keep on keeping on seems
to be the rule. Linda High captures much of that, and the underlying anger
and regret, with just her glances and her posture in her depiction of the mother who is either victim or victimizer - or both. It is all
there in the opening scene and it fascinates throughout the evening. Nanna
Ingvarsson, on the other hand, lets her character's essence come into focus
much more slowly, giving a hint here and a hint there which combine into a
rich portrayal that has its own fascination.
While the relationship between the two women is the
heart of the play, the impact of the local man briefly returned from London,
and that of his younger brother, are the engine that move events along. Scott
Graham, as the local man who went off to find success in London, layers the
terse local attitudes with the energy of the big city so well that it is
quite understandable how Ingvarsson's character would come under his spell,
even if it weren't for the fact that she sees him as an unexpected last
chance at a life of her own. His Act II opening monologue - a letter he
composes to her - is a stand-alone gem of a scene which would make terrific
audition material. A maturing Joe Baker, as his younger brother, turns in
some of his best work for Keegan since
Waiting for the Slow Dance. As usual,
George Lucas' finds the right look for the bleakness of the western Irish
country in his set design. His single-room set has the feel of the poor
rural life of the west of Ireland which sits comfortably in the exposed
brick and rough hewn timber ambiance of the Church Street Theatre. It is
complimented nicely by both Dan Martin's lighting and by Maggie Butler's
just-right costumes. Only Eamon Coy's sound design seems out of place, using
early 1960s top forty type tunes to cover strangely lengthy scene changes.
The songs are appropriate for the time but they break the mood of the place.
Written by Martin McDonagh. Directed by Mark A. Rhea.
Design: George Lucas (set) Dan Martin (lights) Maggie Butler (costumes)
Eamon Coy (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Lisa Shogren (stage manager).
Cast: Joe Baker, Scott Graham, Linda High, Nanna Ingvarsson. |
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May 5 - June 11, 2005
Side Man |
Reviewed May 8
Running time 1:55 - one intermission
General admission seating at the Church Street Theatre
t
A Potomac Stages Pick
for moving performances and emotional impact
Click here to buy the script |
Look back through reviews of
Warren Leight's Tony Award-winning memory play and you will think it has
always been a story of a jazz musician as told by his son, the stalwart who
even at age ten could be "the man of the house" and try to rescue his mother
who couldn't quite cope with the life of a musician's wife. The wife always
seemed to exist only in her relationship to the males: man and boy. In this
stunningly compelling production, the wife comes into her own, making the
play something more than it was. It becomes a more fully formed family story
with Amy McWilliams' performance elevating the role of the wife and mother
to co-equal status with Kevin Adams' somewhat subdued work as her trumpet
playing husband and Chris Stezin's smoothly
modulated portrayal of the son/narrator through whose eyes all the events
are seen.
Storyline: The thirty year old son of a sadly dysfunctional couple
relates the tale of their marriage in a memory play of flashbacks blended
with narration. The father is a jazz trumpeter whose life was the music he
made as a side man in the big band era, a time and an occupation that has
slipped away. He was one of what the son tells us were a band of men who
"conquered their obsessions to the exclusion of everything else." His wife
could not survive that exclusion with her mind and spirit in tact. She fell
into abuse of her self through alcohol and tobacco, and of her family through
violently spiteful behavior, moving between mental wards and their small
apartment throughout the young boys' life.
McWilliams begins the
evening as a raging maniac screaming insults at her son. How difficult must it be to
then gain the audience's understanding and compassion for her character? She
handles it through Leight's marvelous script, which, in director Leslie Kobylinski's balanced production, shows the weight of each burden that has
cost her her sanity. Stezin carries the show through multiple levels of
appreciation and understanding of the twin burdens of the two parents caught
in a marriage without a common foundation or commitment. Kevin Adams doesn't
quite pull off the required dramatic coup of displaying indifference and
disinterest on one hand and absolute obsession on the other. The play has a
famous second act scene in which the jazz musicians late in their career
listen to a tape of the legendary last performance of Clifford Brown. The
scene is famous for giving the actor playing the father the opportunity to
show, without speaking a word, just how otherworldly his obsession can be as
he is literally transported by music. Adams misses the mark, leaving the
scene a sweet but slightly overlong one. Still, its the only miscue in Kobylinski's structure.
This is at least the second time that Kobylinski has
directed this play. In 2001 she directed it at the Elden
Street Players in Herndon. That production earner her her first
Washington Area Theatre Community Honors (WATCH) award. One skill she brings to each of her productions is a touch for
casting. Of course, her reputation for giving her actors every opportunity
to develop impressive performances helps her recruit just the right people
for the roles, but she has an uncanny record of matching stage persona to
character traits even when she's drawing from the pool of a company's
regulars, as she is here. The smaller parts of the side man's side kicks are
cases in point. Eric Lucas might not be an obvious choice for the role of
the flippant observer Ziggy, but he is fascinating to watch as he takes the
character from youthful confidence to a certain prideful old age. So, too,
does Mark Rhea make the drug addicted Jonesy a person who changes with age
and experience in a nicely restrained performance.
So many fine theater companies in the Potomac Region are doing
exceptional work with constrained resources. The only real disappointments
in this production come from technical elements that probably reflect more a
limited budget than artistic failing. Dan Martin's lighting design does what
is called for with its tight pools of light drawing attention to various
points on the stage as memory flits from place to place and moment to
moment. What may be a limitation on the number of lights he can use,
however, leave gaps between the pools through which characters pass and hard
shadows in the lit spaces. A similar technical gap may be a result of having
only one location for speakers for the sound system. The sound of the
on-stage source music still comes from the rear of the house where it is
appropriate for other scenes involving off stage or remembered music. Still,
the sound of the jazz trumpet solo at the back of the house makes Amy
McWilliams' scene in the first act where she listens to her man making music
on their first date tremendously effective.
Written by Warren Leight. Directed by Leslie A. Kobylinski.
Design: Stefan M.
Gibson (set) Grant Kevin Lane (costumes) Dan Martin (lights) Ray Gniewek
(photography) Rose Kobylinski and Donna Reynolds (stage managers). Cast:
Charlotte Akin, Scott Graham, Eric Lucas, Mark Rhea, Chris Stezin, Amy
McWilliams. |
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February 17 - March 19,
2005
The Playboy
of the Western World |
Reviewed February 18
Running time 2:00 - one intermission
General admission seating
Performed at the Church Street Theatre
1742 Church Street NW
Click here to buy the script |
Don't
let the title fool you - in 1907 Irish playwright J. M. Synge was not
writing about the kind of playboy for which Hugh Hefner named his magazine.
There are no Playboy Bunnies frolicking in a hot tub in this tale of life
among the poor rural inhabitants of an Ireland still reeling half a century
after the potato famine. No, here the term is a double entendre combining
"the boy of the game" of the Irish sport of hurling with the concept of, in
dramaturg Trudi Olivetti's phrase, "a young man who plays games with those
around him." In this case, the fate of a young man hangs in the balance as the
population first champions him and then turns on him. Here the beauty of
the Irish brogue and the earthiness of life in the poverty stricken west of
a poverty plagued Ireland is the topic of interest.
Storyline: A young man stumbles into a tiny pub in rural western Ireland at
the turn of the last century claiming to have killed his abusive father. The
townspeople protect him and he becomes something of a celebrity until his
father shows up, not having died from his son's blow to the head. The
townspeople then turn on the boy.
Director Mark Rhea opens this version of
Synge's most famous play with Mark Adams as Synge himself on stage
addressing the audience with words from his preface to the play. He affirms
his effort to accurately capture the sound of the way the Irish actually
spoke. "I have used one or two words only that I have not heard among the
country people of Ireland" he says. Rhea's cast deliver that language in a
thick brogue that makes the patterns of the words approach a musical quality,
but it often requires intense concentration to convert that music to
meaning. The plot comes through but many of the nuances of character and
much of the humor is subordinated to a reverence for the language. The
production offers energetic performances by Carlos Bustamante and Kevin Adams and a
wonderfully evocative set designed by George Lucas.
Synge titled his work "a comedy in three acts."
It is certainly not meant as a farce, sketch comedy or a comedy of manners.
But it has elements of humor darkened by a particular Irish sentimentality.
For example, as pleasing as the musical meter of the exchange about just how
the young man killed his father might be, it is clearly intended to draw
laughs: "you shot him dead?" / "I never used weapons. I've no license,
and I'm a law-fearing man." / "It was with a hilted knife maybe? I'm
told, in the big world it's bloody knives they use." / "Do you take me for a
slaughter-boy?" / "You never hanged him ...? " / "I did not then. I
just riz the loy and let fall the edge of it on the ridge of his skull ... "
Bustamante delivers these lines with
appropriate earnestness and there is some real romantic chemistry between
him and Helen Pafumi as the innkeeper's daughter. There are some fine comic
moments involving Chuck Whalen as her father and his pals, including Mark
Adams who leaves the Synge character of the preface to join in the main
story. The energy level of the show ratchets up a notch whenever Kevin Adams
takes the stage as the father Bustamante supposedly dispatched.
Written by J. M. Synge. Directed by Mark A.
Rhea. Design: George Lucas (set) Maggie Butler and Shadia Hafiz (costumes)
Dan Martin (lights) Tony Angelini (sound) John Glick (music) Ray Gniewek
(photography) Eamon Coy (stage manager). Cast: Kevin Adams, Mark Adams,
Maggie Bush, Carlos Bustamante, Gianna D'Emilio, Mike Kozemchak, Helen
Pafumi, John Porter, Jennifer Richter, Emily Riehl-Bedford, Chuck Whalen.
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November 18 - December 19, 2004
True West |
Reviewed November 20
Running time 2:05 - one intermission
t A Potomac
Stages Pick for a knock down,
drag out good time
Click here to buy the book |
There are two ways to treat Sam Shepard's script. Keegan has chosen the
better, more enjoyable but just as absorbing approach than the one
frequently taken. Director Susan Marie Rhea has her two excellent lead
actors play the piece with an eye for the humor in it rather than a
concentration on the violence inherent in this portrait of brotherly
suspicion, competition and jealousy. Her way is better! All the validity of
the characterizations in Shepard's script come through, highlighted by the
quirky comments and highlighting the rich detail Shepard included in the
text. It moves rapidly past the weaknesses of sloppy plotting and
contrived events that the piece contains. As a result, the flow is
immeasurably improved, the logic of the progression of the story works and
the relationship between the two brothers is not just the centerpiece, but
becomes nearly the entire piece. With Mark Rhea and Eric Lucas playing the
brothers, that is precisely where the focus should be.
Storyline: Two brothers,
one a screenwriter on the brink of what he hopes will be a breakthrough
assignment, and the other a drifter with a story idea for a movie, are holed
up in their Mother’s house east of Los Angeles while she’s on a trip to
Alaska. Their task is to write a screenplay based on the drifter’s story but
their egos, passions, old psychic injuries and shared history have them at
each other’s throats. Will one kill the other before the script is
completed?
Keegan inaugurates their theater-in-residence status at the Old Town Theater
in Alexandria with this violently funny play of two brothers which they
toured throughout Ireland earlier this fall. With performances in nine different
theaters with stages of different dimensions accommodated by Stefan M.
Gibson's flexible set, Rhea and Lucas had the opportunity to explore their
roles in many different configurations. The piece is now mounted on the
shallow stage of the Old Town with an additional apron extending into the
audience where much of the competition takes place. This gives audiences a
very close view of the action. Tony Angelini's soundscape adds to the
feeling of immediacy with his crickets, coyote calls and the required touch
of Willie Nelson music.
Mark Rhea is the drifter, a slob with an
extraordinary sense of entitlement who makes his money as a burglar ("They
don't need their televisions - I'm doing them a favor") and sees the entire
world in terms of what is in it for him. He's funny from the git-go, earning
honest laughs from silences as well as from the lines Shepard wrote. He's
funny because he's true and consistent. As he sees an opportunity for
profit, he moves on it with a feral force that is
fearsome. Eric Lucas, as the writer
whose hopeful veneer hides deep fears of failure, takes his character
through more change than does Rhea. It is, after all, his world that is
being destroyed before his eyes. He descends from a certain prim self
control into drunken denial in measured stages that carry the audience along
with him. The two of them work together with a generous cooperation that is
a reflection of their long collaboration as the two founding members of
Keegan Theatre.
The smaller roles are
competently played by Kevin Adams as the producer who each brother sees as a
potential patron offering the riches of Hollywood, and Carol Baker as the
mother who returns from her vacation to find her home has been turned into a
grown-up (but not mature) version of the play-pen where these siblings
rivaled decades before. Neither part has the potential to distract the
audience's attention from the fight in the center ring, however, and it is
that struggle between Rhea and Lucas - with all its inventiveness, all its
flamboyance and all its humor - that is so fun to watch.
Written by Sam Shepard.
Directed by Susan Marie Rhea. Design: Stefan M. Gibson (set) Dan Martin
(lights) Tony Angelini (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Eamon Coy (stage
manager). Cast: Kevin Adams, Carol Baker, Eric Lucas, Mark Rhea.
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August 12 -
September 11,
2004
Betrayal |
Reviewed August 14
Running time 1:20 - no intermission
Produced in association with Fountainhead Theatre
t A Potomac
Stages Pick for
intimate intense acting
Click here to buy the script |
Apparently director Sarah Denhardt isn't phased by the reputation of Harold
Pinter or of his 1978 play. She has her cast
approach the piece as if it were fresh out of an unknown's typewriter. This
challenging short piece can begin to feel academic if a director and the
principal cast spend too much energy on its structural peculiarities,
turning them into an scholarly exercise. Not so here. Denhardt keeps the
focus on the story of the three principal characters, their relationships
and
their motivations. As a result, the audience keeps its attention there as
well. The three principal characters may not be people you would want to add to your
inner circle of good friends, but each comes to life in fascinating,
believable performances which are a pleasure to watch from afar.
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 with the meeting, 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 writing, 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.
The principals here are Fountainhead's Charlotte
Akin and Jim Jorgensen, joined by familiar local actor Dan Via. Jorgensen has
such expressive eyes, and he knows just how to use them as tools in
communicating his character's inner thoughts to an audience. He's at his best
in an intimate house such as this one, where every shift of focus or
fleeting glance registers. As the cuckold of this triangle, his eyes tell
volumes about just what his character knows and when he knows it. Akin gets
the weight of guilt across more clearly than the excitement of the early
stages of the affair (which, of course, come later in the play.) Via has a
nice flippancy about his demeanor that works well and manages to indicate
his character's own confusion over just how much the husband knows at each
stage of the affair.
Lea Umberger's set of interlocking platforms
allows swift transitions from locations - the restaurant where the lovers
reunite, the flat they rented for their affair, the living room in the
married couple's home. Behind it all is a screen on which are projected a
series of photographs of the cast which capture their attitudes and feelings
over the course of the affair, as well as slides giving the time and location
of each scene ("The Flat, Winter 1975".) Unfortunately, the images are so
dim that they are distracting without enhancing the overall experience of
the play.
Written by Harold Pinter. Directed by Sarah
Denhardt. Design: Lea Umberger (set and costumes) Jessie Crain (lights)
Robert Timothy Jarbadan (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Jessica Timmins
(stage manager). Cast: Charlotte Akin, Bryan Davis, Jim Jorgensen, Dan Via.
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June
10 - July 8, 2004
Tattoo Sky |
Reviewed June 14
Running time 2:05 - two intermissions
Playing at the Clark Street Playhouse |
Eric Lucas - yes the same Eric Lucas appearing in the other play in this
two-play repertory - directs this world premiere of his own play, an
exercise in the genre usually attributed to Sam Shepard. Shepard's elements
of Western-Americana, his assemblage of literate characters incapable of
meaningful interpersonal communication and his tone of laconic fatalism
permeate this play and this production. Also switching functions is Mark
Rhea - the same Mark Rhea who directed the other play in this two-play
repertory - who plays the lead role in this one. He's joined here by his
wife, Susan Marie Rhea, and frequent Keegan Theatre cast member Kevin Adams
in this three-person play.
Storyline: Ray and Meg are getting on each others nerves, holed up in a
ranch house in the Nevada desert. He's banged up with an arm in a sling but
the sling is a fine place to hoard a few brewskis. She's bored beyond
endurance and pulls a suitcase out from under the bed from time to time just
to gaze at its contents . . . a fortune in small bills. Into their sphere
comes Taylor, a smooth talking hit man who seems to be in the employ of the
people from whom Ray and Meg stole the money. Taylor is there to recover the
goods and he's more than willing to use techniques of torture to get it. In
fact, he prides himself on the skill with which he can inflict pain.
Lucas' script seems to play a number of
time-related tricks on the audience, making it difficult to figure out just
what happened before or after what. His direction doesn't offer much help to
audience members trying to decipher the puzzle, although it does appear that
Dan Martin's lighting shifts are intended to provide some clues. Still, just
what transpires in the early segments between Meg and Ray is difficult to
grasp. Without that key, the events when Taylor is added to the mix are
fascinating because of the performances, but puzzling nonetheless.
The performances of the three are all strong
and highly idiosyncratic. Mark Rhea is as swaggering and smoldering as he
often is. Here he's very much like his performance in Sam Shepard's Fool
For Love four years ago. Susan Rhea is also giving a Western-Americana
swagger reminiscent of earlier performances, specifically her full-blooded
Kate from their western take on The Taming of the Shrew three years
ago. Adams, on the other hand, reveals aspects we've not seen before as he
plays a game of cat and mouse with Ray and Meg.
Lucas' script plays word games from beginning
to end with light and humorous excursions on the meaning of "myopia" in the
early going and poetic ruminations on the Aurora Borealis in the final act.
His text reaches for sonority ("the ocean makes sounds like music aught to")
as well as descriptive clarity (a blue fin tuna brought to the deck of a
boat is "700 pounds of pain in a ten foot space"). Such eloquence
would be more satisfying in a story that was a bit easier to follow.
Written and directed by Eric Lucas. Design:
Stefan M. Gibson (set) Dan Martin (lights) Tony Angelini (sound) Ray Gniewek
(photography) Jessica Timmins (stage manager). Cast: Kevin Adams, Mark Rhea,
Susan Marie Rhea. |
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June 3 - July 10, 2004
An Island Of No
Land At All - The Story of O'Malley of
Shanganagh |
Reviewed June 6
Running time 2:50 - one intermission
Playing at the Clark Street Playhouse
t A Potomac
Stages Pick for absorbing atmospheric theater |
The world premiere of Peter Coy's challenging
mixture of memory, sorrow, hope and the indomitable spirit of the Irish asks
a lot of its audience, but it rewards close attention with much food for
thought and the not insignificant pleasures of watching terrific
performances from the trio of leading actors. Director Mark A. Rhea
capitalizes on and enhances the script's rich texture from the opening
moments with a combination of scenic design elements and purposeful
seriousness to the blocking of the early scenes and maintains that feeling
of substance through to the very end.
Storyline: After a youthful period of wanderlust, a man returns to his
native Ireland to find a home outside of Dublin that he knew as a youth is
now an Anglican convent. He falls in love with a novice and draws her out of
her vocation before her final vows and marries her himself. They honeymoon
in London, Paris, Monte Carlo and Venice, but when they return home their union
isn't accepted by the people of their community. Over time she withers
before his eyes which he assumes is a result of their rejection by local
society but she really has other secrets.
You won't figure out what is going on in this
play very early. Indeed, you will probably still be debating how the pieces
fit as you travel home after the show. But connecting the dots is one of the
pleasures of the piece. There are hints and clues galore and some of them
don't fit together the way you first think that they do. Causing you to
adjust your own theory of events throughout the evening is one of the ways
Coy keeps interest high. He also provides a group of highly defined
characters and a richness of language that is particularly
Irish. Much of that language reflects Coy's inspiration for the piece,
the works of Donn Byrne, Irish poet, novelist, patriot and nationalist whose
style, at least in his saga Raftery has been described as "prose breaking
off into musical verse now and then." That description applies to Coy's
script as well.
A trio of lovely performances in the three
major roles captures the rhythms of the poetry as well as the plot. Eric
Lucas' transition from proud, confident youth to a disappointed, dissipated
shell of his former self progresses in nearly imperceptible increments.
Ghillian Porter slowly succumbs to the twin effects of guilt and holding
secrets bottled up inside with such subtle shifts that she seems at times to
be physically disintegrating. Brian Hemmingsen's enigmatic character is a
fascinating mystery from first to last. Together, the three of them create a
core for the play that is as solid as Coy or Byrne's language is lovely.
Rhea cycles the rest of the cast through the
upstage bar which is frequently dimly lit but always present as if to signal
that the story could be one that might be told over a few whiskeys in a
rural Irish bar. That cast includes standouts Daniel Lyons who delivers the
first parts of the storyline and Jon Townson who gives the show its first
overtly romantic moment and then signals the switch from love-story to
something else.
Written by Peter Coy based on the works of Donn Byrne. Directed by Mark A. Rhea. Design: Stefan M. Gibson (set) Maggie
Butler (costumes) Dan Martin (lights) Matt Rippetoe (sound) Ray Gniewek
(photography) Eamon Coy (stage manager). Cast: Carol Baker, Maggie Bush, Les
Garrison, Brian Hemmingsen, Eric Lucas, Daniel Lyons, Ghillian Porter,
Jennifer Richter, Jon Townson. |
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February 19 - March 27, 2004
The Crucible |
Reviewed February 21
Running time 2 hours 55 minutes |
Arthur Miller's polemic on mass hysteria,
conformity and official repression requires a fine touch from a director to
insert a bit of contrast and variation, lest the just under three-hour performance
suffer from an exhausting uniformity of high dudgeon. This production, under
Susan Marie Rhea's direction, doesn't get that touch of contrast until after
intermission. The first act starts at a high level of emotionalism and never
seems to take a breath. By the time Brian Hemmingsen makes his entrance at
the start of the second act and introduces a bit of variation in tone, it is
almost too late. But his performance is strong enough to captivate and makes
the evening a worthwhile effort
Storyline: Arthur Miller's drama uses the
historical record of the hysteria that resulted in the Salem Witch Trials of
1692 to explore issues that were very much on his mind when it was written
in 1953. This was the height of the hysteria over allegations of communist
infiltration with the Army-McCarthy Hearings in the Senate, the Alger
Hiss Case being investigated by the House Committee on Un-American
Activities, artists from Broadway to Hollywood being subpoenaed to testify
about the activities of their colleagues, and Hollywood blacklisting
suspected "reds."
The central pair
of the play is played by Mark Rhea and Lee Mikeska Gardner. Rhea begins his
performance at the high level pitch which leaves him little room to show an escalating sense of panic, while Gardner
comes in later in the play and has more leeway to moderate her performance.
By the end, both are at a fever pitch as they should be, but what went before
sets up Gardner's anguish much more effectively than Rhea's. Fine
performances are provided by Ghillian Porter as the ring-leader of the
girls, Eric Lucas as the Reverend tormented by his duty to investigate the
charges of witchcraft, and Richard Mancini as a husband who naively
incriminates his wife and lives to regret it.
Hemmingsen is a breath of fresh air when he
takes over the proceedings in the role of the judge presiding over the
trials. He varies his performance from the gentle cajolery of a young girl
whose testimony he tenderly draws from her to the terrifying badgering of
other witnesses he tries to frighten them into confessing, and from a haughty
authoritarianism to a friendly neighborly attitude, and he makes the
transitions in a blink.
Stefan Gibson has designed a handsome set
which has two main configurations. During intermission most of the cast is
on stage shifting it from the interior of colonial houses to the
interior of the meeting house used as a courtroom. The production benefits
from an original score of incidental music composed by Matt Rippetoe.
Written by Arthur Miller. Directed by Susan
Marie Rhea. Design: Stefan M. Gibson (set) Maggie Butler (costumes) Dan Martin (lights) Ray Gniewek (photography) Kimberly Moeller (stage
manager). Cast: Kevin Adams, David Cleverly, Brandilyn Dunn, Lee Mikeska
Gardner, Les Garrison, Brian Hemmingsen, Paige Hernandez, Mike Kozemchak,
Eric Lucas, Emilia Lugn, Timothy Hayes Lynch, Daniel Lyons, Richard Mancini,
Peggy McGrath, Jane Petkofsky, Ghillian Porter, Emily Riehl-Bedford, Mark
Rhea, Mia Smith, Alia Faith Williams, Abby Wood.
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November 6 - December 13, 2003
Who's Afraid
of Virginia Woolf |
Reviewed November 8
Running time 3 hours 5 minutes
Playing in rep with Fountainhead's Delicate Balance at the
Clark Street Playhouse
t
Potomac Stages Pick
|
It takes a lot of talent to make an audience care for shallow, ugly, mean
and despicable people. Edward Albee’s Pulitzer Prize winning script provides
plenty of material to make an audience want to know what makes these people
tick, and the intellectual exercise of putting together the clues to the
histories of these characters can fill any evening. But the magic at work in
director Lee Mikeska Gardner’s mounting of Albee’s 1962 classic is to make
you care for and not just about these pain-ridden people.
Storyline: An English
professor at a small New England college and his wife, the daughter of the
college’s president, return from a faculty party. He is displeased to learn
that she has invited a new young professor and his wife back for after-party
drinks. After all, it is 2 a.m. They bicker and fight, inflicting pain and
suffering as if that was the only way they can make any kind of personal
connection with each other.
Rarely has a play depended
so completely on the “back stories” of the main characters, the things that
happened to them before the curtain comes up, the things that may be eluded
to in the text but are never really spelled out. The secret of Mikeska
Gardner’s success with this production is that the things that turned this
couple sour are visible just under the surface so that audiences can
understand that “Martha” and “George” were once bright, hopeful, promising
people -- a couple you would have wanted to invite you over for an
after-event drink. As a result, it isn’t the dark, pessimistic, burned out
people up there on that stage that fascinate, but the people they once were
and the reasons they turned out as they did.
Keegan regulars know the depth of the work of both Mark Rhea whose “George”
is a smoldering pot of resentment and Linda High whose searing “Martha” has
reached the end of her rope. The text says that the failing professor is six
years younger than his dissatisfied wife. The disparity between Mark Rhea
and Linda High’s apparent ages match the text and it gives a poignancy to
their relationship that has been missing in some local productions of the
piece although it was present in the originals on Broadway (Uta Hagen was
three years older than Arthur Hill but looked more) and on film (Elizabeth
Taylor was seven years older than Richard Burton.)
The
young couple here is Carlos Bustamente and Susan Marie Rhea, newly married
to Mark Rhea, who has performed with Keegan many times as Susan Grevengoed.
In Bustamente’s hands, the young man can be seen as a version of “George”
just after marrying his “Martha.” And in his reactions to his hosts can be
seen the first glimmer of concern that his own future might not turn out too
different from their present. Mrs. Rhea makes the most of a character that
has the least depth to it as written, also offering a hint at where “Martha”
was when she was first married to a promising professor.
Written by Edward Albee.
Directed by Lee Mikeska Gardner. Design: Faz Besharatian (set) Maggie Butler
(costumes) Dan Martin (lights) Ray Gniewek (photography) Ann Fleming (stage
manager). Cast: Carlos Bustamente, Linda High, Mark Rhea, Susan Marie Rhea. |
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June 26 – July 27, 2003
Romeo and Juliet |
Reviewed July 3
Performed at the Mt. Olivet United Methodist Church,
1500 North Glebe Road, Arlington
Running time 2 hours 40 minutes |
The strength of this production of Shakespeare’s classic tale of star
crossed lovers lies just where it should - - in the pair of performers in
the title roles, both of whom are making their American theater debut after
being “discovered” by Keegan’s artistic team during last year’s tour of
Ireland with The Glass Menagerie. The casting of Matthew Keenan and
Sarah Dillon, as well as the work of local regular Jon Townson are the best
things about this otherwise uneven production of Romeo and Juliet
that takes place in Belfast instead of “fair Verona.”
Storyline: Romeo, the scion of the powerful Montegu family, falls heads over
heals in love with Juliet, the eligible daughter of his family’s arch
rivals, the Capulets. Disregarding the passions of the feud for the passions
of the heart, the couple plan a secret wedding but things go wrong as a
battle breaks out between the younger generation of the feuding families
ending in death and banishment. A ruse to avoid being separated also goes
terribly wrong as romance turns to tragedy.
The
announcement of this production made much of the idea that it was an
adaptation setting the story in Ireland in 1919 but this is still
Shakespeare’s play. We’ve seen many stagings of Shakespeare’s work on sets
and in costumes that imply a different time or place than the original (Much
Ado About Nothing on a tennis court in Edwardian England, The Taming
of the Shrew in the American old west, Richard III with Nazi
banners) so the addition of Irish brogue and early twentieth century
costuming is not revolutionary. The “adaptation” by Keegan’s Eric Lucas
doesn’t change a lot in the Bard’s famous play although it does try to
streamline it a bit, including the merger of Act II’s scene outside the
Capulet orchard with the much more famous scene that follows it, the balcony
scene. To be really effective as an adaptation instead of just a staging
concept, a few details would have to be resolved that simply aren’t, such as
why the same priest is ministering to both the Catholic and the Protestant
lovers.
The
two memorable new faces introduced in this production belong to two recent
graduates of the Gaiety School of Acting of Dublin. Each brings a fresh
youthful vitality to parts that are often played older than the story
allows. Their teen-age passion is palpable and there is a chemistry between
them that is an important factor in any team portraying these lovers. His
early impetuousness and her second act anguish are impressive. Their Irish
brogues sat easily on Shakespeare’s iambic pentameter while most of the rest
of the cast either concentrated on sounding Irish to the expense of the
poetry or concentrated on the lines at the expense of the accent. Neither William Aitken as Juliet’s father,
nor Steve McWilliams as Romeo’s, seemed able to act and sound Irish at the
same time. Linda High, on the other hand, made a marvelous nurse that
straddled the ages between Elizabethan England and Edwardian Ireland.
The
production benefits as well from the talents of
Jon Townson in the role of the priest, here called Father instead of Friar
Laurence. He takes a fresh look at a part that has frequently been
approached as a bumbling old fool of a do-gooder. His youthful approach is
more a Bing Crosby-ish parish priest out of “Going My Way” with a touch of
Barry Fitzgerald as softening agent. Townson was less successful handling
the fight choreography which varied at least in execution from awkward to
acceptable.
Written by William
Shakespeare. Adaptation by Eric Lucas. Directed by Mark A. Rhea and Eric
Lucas. Fight Choreography by Jon Townson. Dialect coaching by Linda Murray.
Design: Mark A. Rhea (set) Jenny Gibson (costumes) Dan Martin (light and
sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Jessica Timmins (stage manager). Cast:
William Aitken, Joe Baker, Justin Davey, Sarah Dillon, Ann Fleming, Andres
Garcia, Laura Herren, Sheri S. Herren, Linda High, JJ Johnston, Matthew
Keenan, Steve McWilliams, Pamela Ricker, Samantha Sheahan or Alexandra
Staeben, Mia Smith or Ashby Moncure Williams, Jon Townson, Rob Welsh. |
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May 6 – June 15, 2003
A Lie of the Mind |
Reviewed May 10
Running time 2 hours 55 minutes
Playing at the Clark Street Playhouse
Joint Production with
Fountainhead Theatre
Price: $25 for both shows
t Potomac Stages Pick |
The first half of their two-show “Shepard Project” is a searingly effective
presentation of Sam Shepard’s 1985 dissection of the impact of one
dysfunctional family on another. Words, fists, images and ideas fly so
rapidly and yet with such clarity in director Eric Lucas’ razor sharp
staging that the play seems almost short even as it approaches the third
hour. But, then, when it first played New York under Shepard’s own
direction, it ran four hours. Lucas picks up time by not bogging the play
down under musical excursions. The original had its own country-sounding
band while this production relies on Patsy Cline recordings. It works this
way. Wow, does it work.
Storyline: Jake thinks his wife abuse has finally reached its logical
conclusion and that his wife Beth has died of his latest beating. His
brother gets him home to the tender care of his mother who is still in
denial about every shortcoming in Jake as she compensates for the tragedy
that was her marriage to his father. In the meantime, Beth has survived and
is nursed back to health by her brother who gets her out of the hospital and
back to the home of their parents - their mother driven just a bit ditsy by
her life with their self-centered, psychologically abusive father.
From
the storyline above it must be difficult for the readers to believe they
would enjoy three hours in the presence of these people. But Shepard’s skill
at creating fascinatingly flawed flesh and blood people whose humanity can
still be glimpsed through layers of hurt and hate, and whose striking out
comes from some deep well of pain and frustration, is such that each of the
eight characters is an interesting individual and their interaction is
consistently compelling.
Keegan and Fountainhead both bring the strengths of their co-production but
clearly this first installment of “The Shepard Project” bears the Keegan
stamp. In addition to Keegan co-founder Eric Lucas as director, the other
co-founder and Artistic Director, Mark Rhea, plays Jake with a ferocity
frequently hinted at in his previous performances but never quite let loose
in this fashion before. He owns the first act, which is the only act that is
really about Jake. Linda High, who was so memorable in Keegan’s The Glass
Menagerie on tour last summer in Ireland and then reprised here in the
fall, is nearly as good in the smaller role of Jake’s Mother, especially in
the second act. In the final act it is Kevin Adams in his forth Keegan
appearance who captures the imagination with a horrendous but compelling
characterization of Beth’s Dad for whom a battered daughter is almost as
disturbing a development as is the arrival of the last day of deer season
without a buck to his credit.
Through it all there are rock-solid performances of a superb cast. There is
Chris Stezin as Jake’s brother, the only actually functional character in
the lot, although Charlotte Akin’s portrait of Jake’s sister is of a
character on the verge of functionality who may well be able to strike out
on her own and escape the cycle of abuse. Jim Jorgensen is Beth’s brother
whose own problems only surface after he has taken care of hers during her
crisis, and Susan Grevengoed is as painful to watch as she should be as the
battered Beth. Peggy McGrath succeeds in the humor of the ditsyness that
Beth’s mother uses as a shield against psychological abuse without turning
her into a one-dimensional joke. That all of these performances of all of
these unbalanced characters blend into a well balanced whole is a tribute to
the work of the director as well as to the strength of the script.
Written by Sam Shepard.
Directed by Eric Lucas. Design: Mark A. Rhea (set) Maggie Butler (costumes)
Daniel Lyons (makeup) Dan Martin (lights) Faz Besharatian (scenic artist)
Ray Gniewek (photography) Ann Fleming (stage manager). Cast: Kevin Adams,
Charlotte Akin, Susan Grevengoed, Linda High, Jim Jorgensen, Peggy McGrath,
Mark Rhea, Chris Stezin. |
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May 13 – June 14, 2003
Buried Child |
Reviewed May 17
Running time 2 hours 15 minutes
Playing at the Clark Street Playhouse
Joint Production with
Fountainhead Theatre
Price: $25 for both shows |
The second half of the two
show package of Sam Shepard plays is this Pulitzer Prize winning tragi-comedy
or comic-tragedy that, under Keith Bridges’ direction, delivers laughs,
shocks and punch, in approximately that order. What starts out as an almost
lighthearted routine involving a screamed conversation between an on-stage
man and his off-stage wife descends into that uniquely demented world of
dysfunctional misfits that only Shepard can create.
Storyline: A seemingly
normal young man brings his girlfriend to meet his grandparents after having
been out of touch for years. But his grandfather doesn’t seem to remember
him, his grandmother is off gallivanting around with a preacher man, his
father seems to have come home completely burned out by some unspeakable
secrets in his life and his uncle is terrorizing the household until they
take away his artificial leg. The girlfriend begins to unravel the secrets
the family has kept hidden from the outside world.
As with many of Shepard’s
plays, this one pushes the envelope of the surreal but does so with a
construction that establishes a strong sense of realism before veering off
into the bizarre. Keith Bridges' staging is highly visual, using the
lighting of Dan Martin in ways that direct attention as well as establish
mood, and he brings out all of the humor as well as the weirdness of the
characters. However, the secrets underlying the problems of Shepard’s
characters in this mysteriously plotted piece aren’t resolved with the
clarity that Eric Lucas was able to bring to the other show in The Shepard
Project, A Lie of the Mind (see above). Post show conversations may
concentrate on “what the heck was ___ about” rather than “oh, that’s what
____ was all about.” It leaves you sated but strangely unsatisfied.
There
are performances to savor in this production. Jim Jorgensen sits on stage
throughout and is alternately funny and fascinating, always contributing to
the scene but never stealing it unless it is about his character. Charlotte
Akin carries her role from the flighty and slightly giddy woman trying to
get out of the house for a rendezvous with the preacher to dominating
matriarch who is a terror when she loses her temper. Eric Lucas gives
gripping portraits of the two sides of his character, a monster tormenting
his victims (who happen to be his family) until deflated, and then becoming
the whimpering weakling everyone believes is actually inside a bully. Mark
Rhea, on the other hand, establishes a haunting presence as the son who has
already undergone all the personality changes that shaped him, leaving a
burnt out shell. Susan Grevengoed is, as always, a pleasure to watch
creating a distinctive personality, but either Bridges or Shepard have her
making shifts that seem artificial - how is it that this fearful stranger is
all of a sudden fixing soup for Grandpa?
About
“The Shepard Project” -- Buried Child is playing in repertory with A Lie of
the Mind. Admission is on a single $25 ticket for both shows. If you only
have time for one, attend A Lie of the Mind -- but don’t throw away
your ticket as it may well whet your appetite for the unique pleasures of a
Sam Shepard play and you can use it to go back and catch Buried Child.
It will be worth the return!
Written by Sam Shepard.
Directed by Keith Bridges. Design: Mark A. Rhea (set) Maggie Butler
(costumes) Daniel Lyons (makeup) Dan Martin (lights) Faz Besharatian (scenic
artist) Ray Gniewek (photography) Jennifer Richter (stage manager). Cast:
Kevin Adams, Charlotte Akin, Susan Grevengoed, Jim Jorgensen, Eric Lucas,
Mark Rhea, Chris Stezin. |
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January 16 - February 22, 2003
The Hostage |
Reviewed January 18
Running time 3 hours |
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After World War II, as the world caught its collective breath from the near
Armageddon, art as well as politics was undergoing reexamination and
experimention with change. Some of the changes stuck – some did not. At the
time no one knew where music was going – Rock and Roll? Elvis? Progressive
Jazz? Beatnick Word-Talk? No one knew where politics was going – Cold War?
Superpower hegemony? Anti-Imperialism? Local Determination? The age of
uncertainty extended to theater where the rules of formal structure seemed
at once reinforced (look at the golden age of the American Musical) and
fractured. Irish new-wave writer Brendan Behan’s The Hostage is an
example of the uncertainties of both the arts and the politics of its time.
The Hostage was as anti-establishment theater as it was
anti-establishment politics. The Keegan Theatre, with its fascination for
all things Irish, revives the piece, preserving all of its weaknesses as
well as its strengths.
Storyline: In Dublin in
1958 a strange collection of under-class Irish folk live under one roof.
There’s the pub-operator; the cheap whore and her customer, a Russian
sailor; the homosexual whore and his customer, a cynical pianist, the former
Irish Republican Army officer still blowing his pipes. The IRA has captured
an English soldier and holds him hostage in this house, threatening to
execute him if the English go through with their plan to execute an IRA
prisoner.
Behan’s play is performed
with two intermissions separating the three sections which aren’t exactly
three acts. Behan’s effort to avoid the strictures of structure kept him
from traditional labeling. The first section is essentially an extended
introduction to the characters and their types with a great deal of
attention to creating the atmosphere of the place. The second introduces the
hostage, a young man who only slowly understands the peril he is in. The
third carries the story, such as it is, to its conclusion. All of this takes
place at a leisurely pace with little dramatic or comedic force to move it
along. As a result, it can seem nearly interminable.
The characters are all
quirky and colorful and the large cast that Keegan has assembled features
strong performances highlighting the very oddity Behan envisioned. Strongest
among them is David Jourdan as the song-singing leader of the pack who
serves as sort of an anti-establishmentarian master of ceremonies with a
guitar, a bottle or three of beer and a ready song. Josh Barrett gives the
most traditionally structured performance in the strongest part Behan wrote,
that of the hostage of the title. There is a lot of singing and a bit of
dancing in this show, although choreographer Laurie Gilkenson takes pains to
keep the dancing from looking like it is formally organized.
Director Mark A. Rhea seems
to have given each member of the cast the freedom to create their own take
on their character while imposing enough discipline to mesh them together
into a single strange society. Given Behan’s aversion to structure, this is
no mean trick.
Written by Brendan Behan.
Directed by Mark A. Rhea. Music direction by David Jourdan. Choreography by
Laurie Gilkenson. Design: Faz Besharatian (set) Amber L. Hayes (costumes)
Dan Martin (lights). Cast: David Jourdan, Josh Barrett, Sarah Ecton, Susan
Grevengoed, Nanna Ingvarsson, Charlotte Akin, Sally Cusenza, Scott Sophos,
Tyee Tilghman, Jennifer Richter, Mike Kozemchak, Kevin Adams, Richard
Mancini, Helen Pafumi, William Aitken, Les Garrison. |
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October 17 – November 17,
2002
The Glass Menagerie |
Reviewed October 17
Running time 2 hours 40 minutes
t Potomac Stages Pick |
Keegan brings its production of Tennessee Williams’ first major success, the
1945 self described "memory play" to the Clark Street Playhouse after
touring it through Ireland where it was well received by audiences in five
different theaters from Galway to Dublin and from Kilkenney to Donegal. That
it does just as well before American audiences is testimony to both the
quality of the script, dealing as it does with some universal themes, as
well as the performances. Under Brian Hemmingsen’s sensitively simple
staging, the four actors deliver distinctive portrayals that meld into a
satisfying ensemble effect.
Storyline: In post-World War II St. Louis, a family of three lives a
precarious existence both financially and emotionally. The mother lives in
her memories of better days before her husband abandoned her and failed even
to send financial support. Her son, who is a frustrated writer in the mold
of Williams, is living for the adventure he can only experience at the
movies while his days are consumed by the drudgery of a laborer’s job at a
dingy warehouse. Her daughter, crippled both physically and emotionally,
only seems to care about her collection of glass figurines. When the son
invites an acquaintance from work home for dinner his mother treats the
event as if the guest is her daughter’s first "gentleman caller," but the
evening is a disaster that breaks the already strained bonds between mother,
son and daughter.
This production finds just the right mixture of realism and romanticism
with an emphasis on the poetry of both Williams’ language and imagery.
Hemmingsen establishes a leisurely flow for the scenes that allows the
beauty of Williams’ language and the emergence of his emotionally charged
plot points to breathe like a fine wine. He resists the temptation to reveal
too much too soon. This emphasis on imagery is aided by a set featuring
symbols and icons scattered around pieces of realistic scenery.
Each of the cast of four has a time to shine but one, Linda High as the
mother, shines all night long. The text gives her the deepest, most complex
and best developed character of all and she takes every advantage of it. She
is alternately charming, pitiable and infuriating, but through it all she is
a human being with realistic limitations and thoroughly understandable
inadequacies. Mark Rhea feels a bit wooden to start as the narrating son but
it soon is clear that this sets off the narration from the action scenes and
he lets loose in them. Susan Grevengoed’s performance has grown since the
Ireland run, especially in the first act where she also holds back a bit in
order to create the greatest contrast possible when the text allows her
character to emerge from her imaginary world for a brief shining moment only
to be dashed by unexpected reality. Her moment looking at herself in a
mirror, reacting both to her image and to her mother’s pronouncement that
she will never be prettier than at this moment (what a terrible thing for a
parent to say!) takes her from annoyance to pleasure to horror in
marvelously subtle shifts. Jon Townsend isn’t given the luxury of building a
character over multiple acts. He appears only in the final scene but creates
a believable, understandable character in the short time allowed.
There is a distinctly Irish sensibility in the work of Tennessee Williams
which is all the stronger in his semi-autobiographical pieces like this one.
After all, the father who all but abandoned young Tennessee’s mother, her
frustrated writer son and crippled daughter went by the name Cornelius
Williams. Back from a month of performing this, his most openly
autobiographical piece before an Irish audience, that link seems even
stronger. When the mother asks if their guest drinks, her son says he
doesn’t think so. When she discovers that both his middle and last names are
Irish she declaims "Irish on both sides and he doesn’t drink?" as if it is
an impossible combination. Audiences in Dublin laughed heartily at that
incredulity. Back in front of an American audience, the cast still has some
of the touches that worked well in an Irish house and they work well here
too. And they give the piece an added richness.
Written by Tennessee Williams. Directed by Brian Emmingsen. Design:
Richard Mancini (set) Amber Hayes (costumes) Matt Rippetoe (sound and music)
Dan Martin (lights). Cast: Linda High, Mark Rhea, Susan Grevengoed, Jon
Townson. |
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August 26 - September 21
The Glass Menagerie |
Reviewed September 7 at Civic
Theatre
Dublin, Ireland
Running Time 2 hours 40 minutes |
The bond between the Arlington-based Keegan Theatre and all things Irish
seems to be a living, growing thing. Since its founding, ten years ago, the
company has had in its charter the goal of bringing quality Irish plays to
our shores. Five years ago it began taking quality American plays to
Ireland. It became the first American theater company to tour the west of
Ireland and this year it is spending nearly a month touring both Northern
Ireland and the Republic of Ireland with this production, playing in five
theaters from Dublin to Galway to Donegal. Potomac audiences will have a
chance to see the production in October and November.Storyline: In
post-World War II St. Louis, a family of three lives a precarious existence
both financially and emotionally. The mother lives in her memories of better
days before her husband abandoned her and failed even to send financial
support. Her son, who narrates this "memory play" and is a frustrated writer
in the mold of Williams, is living for the adventure he can only experience
at the movies while his days are consumed by the drudgery of a laborer’s job
at a dingy warehouse. Her daughter, crippled both physically and
emotionally, only seems to care about her collection of glass figurines.
When the son invites an acquaintance from work home for dinner his mother
treats the event as if the guest is her daughter’s first "gentleman caller,"
but the evening is a disaster that breaks the already strained bonds between
mother, son and daughter.
This production finds just the right mixture of realism and romanticism
with an emphasis on the poetry of both Williams’ language and imagery.
Director Brian Hemmingsen establishes a leisurely flow for the scenes that
allows the beauty of Williams’ language and the emergence of his emotionally
charged plot points to breathe like a fine wine. He resists the temptation
to reveal too much too soon. This emphasis on imagery is aided by a set
featuring symbols and icons scattered around pieces of realistic scenery.
Each of the cast of four has a time to shine but one, Linda High as the
mother, shines all night long. The text gives her the deepest, most complex
and best developed character of all and she takes every advantage of it. She
is alternately charming, pitiable and infuriating, but through it all she is
a human being with realistic limitations and thoroughly understandable
inadequacies. Mark Rhea feels a bit wooden to start as the narrating son but
it soon is clear that this sets off the narration from the action scenes and
he lets loose in them. Susan Grevengoed also holds back a bit at the start
in order to create the greatest contrast possible when the text allows her
character to emerge from her imaginary world for a brief shining moment only
to be dashed by unexpected reality. Jon Townsend isn’t given the luxury of
building a character over multiple acts. He appears only in the final scene
but creates a believable, understandable character in the short time
allowed.
There is a distinctly Irish sensibility in the work of Tennessee Williams
which is all the stronger in his semi-autobiographical pieces like this one.
After all, the father who all but abandoned young Tennessee’s mother, her
frustrated writer son and crippled daughter went by the name Cornelius
Williams. Performing this, his most openly autobiographical piece before an
Irish audience gives new meaning to some of the dialogue. When the mother
asks if their guest drinks, her son says he doesn’t think so. When she
discovers that both his middle and last names are Irish she declaims "Irish
on both sides and he doesn’t drink?" as if it is an impossible combination.
Audiences in Dublin found that incredulity well founded and not in the least
insulting.
Written by Tennessee Williams. Directed by Brian Emmingsen. Design:
Richard Mancini (set) Amber Hayes (costumes) Matt Rippetoe (sound and music)
Dan Martin (lights). Cast: Linda High, Mark Rhea, Susan Grevengoed, Jon
Townson. |
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April 18 – May 11, 2002
Precious Lam and
Waiting for the Slow Dance |
Reviewed April 20
Running time 1 hour 35 minutes
Performed at Theater on the Run, 3700 South Four Mile Run Drive, Arlington
Admission is pay-what-you-can |
Two one-act plays by one of Keegan’s
co-founders, Eric Lucas, are presented together for an evening of thick
Irish and Cockney brogue, colorful visual imagery and interesting approaches
to story-telling. In one, Precious Lam’, the author takes the stage
to perform the piece as a one-man show even though it has a number of
different characters. In the other, four young actors trade the conversation
back and forth with each having a few minutes for his own monologue.
Storyline: In Waiting for the Slow Dance four high-school age boys
sit outside a school dance in Kerry, Ireland in 1951. While the strains of
Irish reels are heard from inside the school, they tease each other, brag a
bit, contemplate the great unknown that is the opposite sex and reveal
themselves to each other and the audience at a key point in their transition
from childhood. Precious Lam, on the other hand, is the story of a
petty thief being released from years in prison in present day London. He’s
under-educated and under-skilled but has enough intelligence to nurture high
self expectations and a strong self-image that is tortured by his lack of
success. He describes his capture, trial, conviction, imprisonment, release
and discovery of just how much he has missed when he returns to his home.
Waiting for the Slow Dance is one of the plays presented in last
year’s new works festival which Keegan called "The Shanachie Project." While
at the time they called the presentation of Slow Dance a "full length
production," they now refer to that staging as a workshop because Lucas has
revisited the text, tightened up some of the imagery, sharpened some of the
humor and now designates this production as the "premiere." Three of the
four young actors from last year’s cast return to their roles while Ben Van
Dyne comes in to handle the part of the most mature of the youths and he
does it well. Robb (formerly Robbie) Welsh still hides his cigarette in the
manner of a youth afraid of being spotted by anyone in authority while
assuming a leadership role in the group. Joe Baker still holds back, giving
a tender portrayal of a youth who isn’t sure he wants to move on to the next
level, and Stephen Lam still gets his geeky kid to revel in the memory of
his first encounter with a female breast (just one). The piece remains one
of gentle humor and genuine fondness for the world of these boys.
Lucas’ skills at both writing and performing are on display in
Precious Lam’ and they are impressive. The vocabulary of his central
character and the characters’ interest in and ability to note and describe
the details of his world seem at first a bit out of place for a soon-to-be
ex-con from the lower economic strata in the blue collar world of England’s
depersonalized remnants of the industrial revolution. But these very
characteristics soon become the central aspect of the character as his
intelligence and pride make his personal failures all the more disturbing to
himself and to the audience.
As a performer, Lucas has the assistance of Dan Martin’s lighting design.
At times, the distinct patterns of light become a second storyteller as
Lucas brings to life not only his central character, but also three whose
impact on that character’s fate are central to the story: his jailer, his
cell-mate and the crook who got him involved in his life of crime in the
first place and tries to draw him back in. Along the way, Lucas pulls off
multiple cockney-ish accents as thick as required but with a clarity of
enunciation that makes it all easy to understand even for ears not
accustomed to the sound. It is a separate skill of note – one that the four
young lads in the first piece have yet to master.
Written by Eric Lucas. Directed by Mark A. Rhea. Design: Dan Martin
(lights.) Cast: Eric Lucas, Robb Welsh, Ben Van Dyne, Stephen Lam, Joe
Baker. |
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February 28 – March 31, 2002
Violet |
Reviewed March 2
Running time 2 hours 20 minutes |
Keegan Theatre takes its third crack at a
musical. Each has been a very different experience.
Pump Boys and Dinettes was a fun
bit of froth. Man of
LaMancha was a dark and hefty message
piece. Violet is simpler than
LaMancha
even though it is very much a message piece, and heavier than
Dinettes even though it has a
score that also draws from American western and pop/folk musical styles.
Storyline: A musical mixing folk, gospel
and pop sounds with a western flavor tells of a young woman whose face was
badly scarred when she was a teenager. She sets off on a bus trip from North
Carolina in 1964 in hopes of becoming pretty through a miracle at the Hope
and Glory Building in Tulsa, Oklahoma. She meets and befriends two soldiers,
one white and one black.
Amy McWilliams directs this
deceptively simple piece with its straight forward story of the search for a
sense of self, worth told through a linear story set in 1964, but punctuated
with flashbacks to explain the origin and effect of the scar that has
affected Violet’s self image. This is her first outing as a director of a
musical for Keegan and her staging is impressive visually, but
falls victim to the difficult acoustics of the
Clark Street Playhouse. The band, placed high in the hall behind a tall set,
reverberates in the high-ceilinged space and covers the weaker of the
vocals, especially those of Julie Schroll who,
as the Young Violet in the flashback sequences, is placed high and farthest
back. She frequently shares her space, however, with Jimmy Payne as her
father, whose voice is the strongest in the cast. The strength of his voice
overcomes that difficulty.
Dianna Harris is the grown
Violet and she gives a performance that matches scene work and vocals quite
nicely. She is particularly adept at communicating vulnerability in subtle
gestures. The two soldiers are Steven Claiborne and Trenton
Wagler – both of whom let loose with a stirring
vocal from time to time. Each creates a believable character out of a
somewhat sketchy script.
The set that Eric
Grims designed for the space uses its height to
advantage with the flashbacks staged on the upper tiers while the action
that takes place in the present is positioned at ground level. It even
extends forward of the set into the floor space.
Music by Jeanine Tesori.
Lyrics and book by Brian Crawley.
Directed by Amy McWilliams.
Choreography by Sally Bruch. Design: Eric
Grims (set) Dan martin (lights) Pam McFarlane
(costumes) Tony Angelini (sound.) Cast:
Deaqnna Harris, Steven Claiborne, Trenton
Wagler, Julie Schroll,
Jimmy Payne, Sharon Ellzey, Colby
Codding, Angela Deniese
Polite, Robin Lynn Reaves, Michael John Casey, Justin Ritchie, Emily
Tinawi. |
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February 14 – March 10, 2002
Give Me Your Answer, Do! |
Reviewed February 16
Running time 2 hours 20 minutes |
Brian Friel’s new play of substance and verbal beauty is getting a Potomac
Region premiere in a staging which matches that substance. It is a joint
production by the six year old Keegan Theatre and the newly arrived
Fountainhead Theatre. The production is marked by a number of resonant
performances as director Leslie A. Kobylinski draws elegant ensemble work
from a fine cast, concentrating on the language which is the strength of the
play and leaving some of the plot questions for the audience to resolve to
their own satisfaction later.Storyline: An Irish novelist is having
his papers assessed for possible sale to raise money as he seems to be
suffering from writers block, burn-out and the pressures of caring for a
permanently disabled, autistic daughter. As the assessor examines the
manuscripts, the writer, his family and his friends examine the value of an
artist’s life and creations.
Keegan Theatre has proven an affinity for Irish author Brian Friel’s
work, giving his Translations an intimate production in the basement
of Arlington’s Mt. Olivet United Methodist Church and then mounting his Tony
Award winning Dancing at Lughnasa at the Warehouse Theatre in DC.
Friel’s Faith Healer was one of the plays that Fountainhead
co-founders Jim Jorgensen and Charlotte Akin list among their productions in
Dallas, Texas before moving the theater company here. Since their arrival
Both Jorgensen and Akin have made strong initial impressions as performers
(Jorgensen in a WATCH Award winning turn as Richard III and a stunning
Shelly Levine in Keegan’s Glengarry Glenn Ross and Akin as Mae in
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and Maria Callas in Master Class for the
Arlington Players.)
Both Jorgensen and Akin are in the cast of Give Me Your Answer, Do!
They share the stage with the likes of Michael Replogle who is the
writer/husband/father who is considering the sale of his papers, Carlos
Bustamante who is the assessor reviewing the material, Linda High and Stan
Shulman as the writer’s in-laws and Maura McGinn who joins Jorgensen as the
neighbors with more than a passing interest in the sale of the papers. Each
delivers a polished performance but it is Akin as the writer’s
long-suffering wife with a predilection for gin, and High as her mother who
watches her daughter’s domestic difficulties through a lens of love as she’s
coping with her own husband’s deterioration, that linger in the mind long
after the final curtain. Lingering, too, is the image of Emily Riehl-Bedford
as the stuporous hospitalized daughter. This is Riehl-Bedford’s debut as a
professional actress but both her wordless performance and her stunning
head-shot photo in the program mark her as someone to watch.
Keegan brought to the Spectrum Theatre one of the large black cloth
partitions they have used at other venues. Here they set it up half way back
in the overly large auditorium to concentrate the audience up front. It
works wonders to make the space almost intimate. The set designed by Grant
Kevin Lane is a simple but effective arrangement of three towering
bookshelves, a simple railing and stacks and stacks of books and papers. Dan
Martin’s lighting design that uses subtle changes to affect the atmosphere
of scenes, and Director Kobylinski’s own sound design enhances the intimate
feeling.
Written by Brian Friel. Directed by Leslie A. Kobylinski. Design:
Grant Kevin Lane (set and costumes) Dan Martin (lights) Leslie A. Kobylinski
(sound.) Cast: Michael Replogle, Charlotte Akin, Carlos Bustamante, Linda
High, Stan Shulman, Emily Riehl-Bedford, Maura McGinn, Jim Jorgensen.
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October 18 - November 20, 2001
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof |
Reviewed October 20
Produced in association with Vpstart
Crow Productions |
Keegan’s stunning production of Tennessee William’s classic is every bit as
good as its considerable reputation would lead you to expect. Five years
ago, it was the first play the newly formed company put on and it was
received with praise. Earlier this year it was revived for a three-city tour
of Ireland. Again it earned plaudits. Opening in Arlington Virginia for a
one month run, it delivers the expected impact and then some.
Storyline: The cat of the title is Maggie, the childless wife
of Brick, the youngest son of Big Daddy whose family has gathered to get the
results of Big Daddy’s cancer exam. Brick, a former athletic star in school
has turned to drink and their marriage has degenerated into a sham for
reasons partially revealed during the play.
Mark Rhea, Keegan’s Artistic Director co-directed the
original production and is credited as the sole director this time out. He
also stars as Brick, just as he did five years ago. Often such dual duty can
signal an unbalanced production as it takes unusual artistic strength as a
director to bring an even hand to the entire cast. Here not only is there no
sign of favoritism or unbalance, the production is unique in the generous
support Rhea’s performance gives first to Susan Grevengoed who is
captivating as Maggie and then to Robert Leembruggen who is fascinating as
Big Daddy.
That the first act belongs to Grevengoed is both by the
playwright’s design and the result of her performance. She brings a strength
to Maggie that makes the events in the climax both believable and somehow
inevitable. Rhea resists all of the scene stealing potential in the script
to give a very supportive performance.
The second act belongs to Leembruggen but the demands of
the play require more action out of Rhea and he gives it. As the act reaches
its peak the two men strike a performing partnership that is a pleasure to
watch.
The third act briefly belongs to Peggy McGrath as Big
Mamma gets her big scene, but for most of the act it is pure ensemble work.
There are fine contributions from Jim Jorgensen and Charlotte Akin as the
eldest son of Big Daddy and his fertile wife.
The original production was staged at the Church Street
Theater in Washington. This time it is in the black box that Keegan
frequently creates in the basement of the Mt. Olivet United Methodist Church
at 1500 N. Glebe Road. The intensity of the play is heightened by the
immediacy of the space with no more than about 20 feet between the stage and
any seat. Set designer George Lucas has done his usual fabulous job of
creating a visually effective playing area in the limited space available.
Particularly effective is the ceiling fan he manages to install where there
is no ceiling. |
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