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February 17 - March 11, 2007
Carnival!
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 2:15 - no
intermission
A revival of a charming fable set to lovely music
Click here to buy the CD |
The real star of this revival of a rarely produced 1961 musical isn't on
the Eisenhower stage. It is in the pit. The sound of the Kennedy Center
Opera House Orchestra under conductor Robert Billig is so lovely and so
solid that on opening night you'd have thought these twenty-four players had
been playing these arrangements for six months. What arrangements? Well, the
Kennedy Center didn't bother to credit an orchestrator, but it is a good
guess that these are the charts used in the original production at the
height of the "Golden Age of the Broadway Musical" when Philip J. Lang
figured out how to make Bob Merrill's marvelously melodic score sound its
very best. The presence of star power in the pit, however, doesn't quite
make up for its absence on the stage. For the show to capture your
imagination as it should it requires a pair of performers in the central
roles who can capture your heart. Here, instead, we have leads who have
strong voices but who don't bring to life the roles of the orphaned waif who
joins the circus or the puppeteer who has such difficulty expressing his
love for her. Without that at its heart, even the wonderful score splendidly
sung and magnificently played can't work its magic.
Storyline: A young orphan girl arrives at a traveling carnival expecting
to be welcomed by her late father's good friend, only to find that he, too,
has died. She is still taken in by the company and falls under the spell of
a smarmy magician, while at the same time, a crippled puppeteer finds
himself attracted to her. He's only able to express his interest, however,
through his puppets.
Robert Longbottom, who directed the original
of Side Show, the revival of Flower Drum Song and the reduced
The Scarlet Pimpernel on
Broadway directs this new Kennedy Center's production which Peter
Marks in the Washington Post said had a budget of $4 million. Longbottom is
a talented choreographer, which he proves here with some fine dance
sequences. As a director, however, he seems to have a taste for reduction
and he may well have gone too far in reducing this fragile concoction which
worked so well in its original version. (The 1961 production ran nearly two
years and won Anna Maria Alberghetti a Tony Award for her work as the orphan
girl.) The two-act original has been reduced to one lengthy act and in the
streamlining, the depth of both starring parts seems to have suffered. The
basic information about their histories may be told but not to the extent
that you fully understand and empathize. This is particularly damaging for
the role of the puppeteer whose inability to communicate (except through his
puppets) is at the core of the story. Jim Stanek never makes us understand
the depth of the psychic scars he carries from the loss of his dreams in the
accident that left him with a limp - the limp itself isn't enough to make us
care. Similarly, Ereni Sevasti doesn't really get to the heart of the
orphan's need for affection or the naivety that has her talking to the
puppets and not the puppeteer.
Coming after New Girl in Town and Take
Me Along, this was clearly Bob Merrill's greatest score as both composer
and lyricist. Later he wrote lyrics only for Funny Girl and then
suffered a major flop when producer David Merrick closed Breakfast at
Tiffany's before opening night rather than, as he said, "subject the
drama critics and the public to an excruciatingly boring evening." It
features songs like "Love Makes The World Go 'Round" (originally just known
as "The Theme from Carnival,") the emphatic "Her Face," the touching "Mira,"
the stirring "Grand Imperial Cirque De Paris" and the light and lively "A
Very Nice Man" - oh, never mind that last one. They cut it for this
abbreviated version.
Longbottom's reductionism
even extends to design. He has set designer Andrew Jackness using rolling
set pieces assembled in multiple configurations. Jackness uses great colors
and fanciful shapes as well as a fabulous rear-wall drop of an ominous
sky, but the stage somehow never seems full. Paul Tazewell's brightly
colored costumes and Ed Christie's delightful puppets shine under Ken Billington's luminous illumination. And then there's the orchestra. Did I
mention the orchestra? Go, and listen.
Music and lyrics by Bob Merrill.
Book by Michael Stewart revised by Francine Pascal. Based on material by
Helen Deutsch. Directed and choreographed by Robert Longbottom. Music
direction by David Chase. Magic and illusions by Joe Eddie Fairchild.
Design: Andrew Jackness (set) Paul Tazewell (costumes) Angelina Avallone
(makeup) Charles LaPointe (hair) Ed Christie (puppets) Ken Billington
(lights) Kurt Fischer (sound) Joan Marcus (photography) Shari Silberglitt
(stage manager). Cast: Michael Arnold, Matt Baker, Alan Bennett, Elisabeth
Page Carpenter, Laura Anne Carpenter, Natascia Diaz, Jazmin Gorsline,
Johnathan Lee Iverson, Sarah Lin Johnson, Amanda Kloots, Sebastian La Cause,
Adam Laird, Denis Lambert, Sean McKnight, Nanette Michele, Koh Mochizuki,
Mike Mosallam, Lance Olds, Jillian Owens, Lauren Pastorek, Krista Saab, Chad
L. Schiro, Christopher Sergeeff, Ereni Sevasti, Tara Siesener, Jim Stanek,
Steven Wenslawski, Rebecca Young.
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January 4 - 28, 2007
Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 2:30 - two intermissions
t A Potomac
Stages Pick for smashing performances in a superbly constructed play
Click here to buy the script |
Now those of us who couldn't get up to New York to see
Kathleen Turner and Bill Irwin in the revival of Edward Albee's masterpiece
in 2005 can see for ourselves just what all the excitement was about - and
resolve for ourselves questions about the judgment of the Tony Award voters
who voted Irwin an award but left Turner with just her nomination (not that
a Tony nomination is anything to denigrate). The excitement was over a fully
realized version of the play with lead performances that are the stuff of
theater memories. Now we can simply forget Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton's film version and treasure the memory of Turner and Irwin's
oh-so-much-more vibrant, enjoyable and intelligently constructed duet. In
their hands - and under the tutelage of director Anthony Page - the
legendary George and Martha make so very much more sense as a couple than
they did in the film, and their early morning contest of wills is more than
just a train wreck that you can't take your eyes off, it is a contest of
wills that pulls and tugs at your emotions all the night long.
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 were the only way they can make any kind of personal
connection with each other. All
through the night they get angrier, and meaner and the guests are dragged
into the struggle.
The word "masterpiece" is often misused in discussion of
works of art but it is most definitely appropriate here, for this is not only
a play in which Edward Albee displays the skills of a master playwright, it
is the play that established his reputation. It was his first play to be
produced on Broadway and it earned him his first Tony award (he went on to
earn two more as well as three Pulitzer Prizes). This revival proves not
only that the recognition was not a fluke, the success wasn't just a matter
of a play fitting its time, but was a reflection of a certain timelessness.
The key characters, George and Martha, are somehow universal and their flaws
universally fascinating. Neither is a person you would chose to add to your
real life circle of acquaintances, but, then, neither is Hamlet and we go to
see him on stage when done well.
Irwin and Turner create two
fascinating individuals and one incandescent couple. Of the two individuals,
Irwin's is the most impressive performance because he manages to make the
milquetoast George both understandable and somehow sympathetic without
crossing over the line to completely pathetic. In the sharp sense of humor
of his character he finds the outlet for both intellect and emotion of the
human being within the henpecked and emotionally abused husband. Deep down
within there still beats a human heart. Turner's Martha, on the other hand,
has only hurt deep within. As impressive as each individual character
creation is, however, it is the way the two spark each other, creating a shared
persona as a couple that really sets this production apart.
Years in the future, when you
remember this production, it will be Irwin and Turner you remember. But
while watching it, you will be impressed as well by the all the support that
they get. Kathleen Early is refreshingly sharp as the new young faculty
wife. David Furr gives a thoughtful reading to the role of her husband.
Written by Edward Albee. Directed by
Anthony Page. Fight direction by Rick Sordelet. Design: John Lee Beatty
(set) Jane Greenwood (costumes) Peter Kaczorowski (lights) Mark Bennett and
Michael Creason (sound) Carol Rosegg (photography) Susie Cordon (stage
manager). Cast: Kathleen Early, David Furr, Bill Irwin, Kathleen Turner. |
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October 3 - 22, 2006
Twelve Angry Men
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for intelligent, emotional drama
Running time 1:35 - no intermission
Click here to buy the script |
Richard Thomas leads the cast in the Roundabout Theatre Company's revival of
a drama set in a jury room which plays here at the Kennedy Center until it
moves to the Hippodrome in Baltimore for an
additional two weeks (October 24 - November 5). Just as it has been since it
first appeared as a television drama in the days when live plays were a
weekly staple on the few channels available in the 1950s, it is a taught
verbal battle of wills that is both captivating and thought provoking. It
can capture an audience's attention over its hour and a half duration even
without the fine performances it gets here. With them, it is a powerful
experience. Director Scott Ellis, who was born in Georgetown and grew up in
Fairfax, somehow imbues the entire project with a New York feel that matches
the script's stated locale. He guides the twelve actors who play the jurors
in search of the line over which an actor cannot go without unbalancing the
feeling or interrupting the flow of the piece. Each gets right up to that
line, but no one goes over it. As a result, each performance delivers its
punch in concert with the others and that makes for grand theater.
Storyline: In a hot and humid, non air conditioned jury room in New York
in the 1950s, an all male jury deliberates over the fate of a teenager
accused of killing his father. At the start, they are split eleven for
guilty and one lone juror raising reasonable doubts.
There are lots of whodunits and quite a few courtroom dramas, but a jury
play is a rarity. That's a mystery since this, the most successful and most
famous of the extremely unusual genre (go ahead, try to think of another
one) is so successful it seems that it would have stimulated a flood of
imitations. Maybe a lot of playwrights tried it since it looks like it
should be so easy, only to find that its awfully hard to give life to a
single-location and single topic argument. It began life on September 20, 1954
on CBS Television when Studio One telecast the play by Reginald Rose
who had, himself, served on a manslaughter jury and based the teleplay on
his own experience. It was later made into a movie with Henry Fonda as the
juror with doubts.
A strong ensemble piece, the juror with
doubts is the key, and in the hands of Richard Thomas, the chemistry works
well. He's such an intelligent actor. His body and his face seem to reflect
his thought process and he seems to think of his lines as he speaks them.
With colleagues like the eleven others in the jury room, that process can be
fascinating. The key is that Thomas doesn't hog the spotlight. Indeed, for
much of the early going, he plays most of the time with his back to the
audience addressing his fellow jurors. George Wendt is the best known of the
other jurors - he's a fine jury foreman and his frustration over the unruly
debate contrasts with his sense of the importance of the jury's duty to
explore all factors. Most notable among the debating men are those most
stridently anxious to convict, Randle Mell as the father whose problem with
his own son flavors his interpretation of the crime, Julian Gamble as a big,
loud bigot and Mark Morettini as the baseball fan who will go either way
just as long as the verdict comes down in time for him to get to the game.
There's lovely work from Jeffrey Hayenga as the least emotional weigher of
the evidence, David Lively as the immigrant juror, Alan Mandell as the
elderly one.
The single, highly naturalistic set creates
the feel of confinement even as it stretches across the Eisenhower's broad
stage with windows on the right shining late afternoon light into the drab
room, a fan that isn't working and florescent light fixtures hanging over
the long jury table. (Actually its two tables shoved together in a nice
touch - obviously, this courthouse wasn't supplied with custom made tables
for its jury rooms.) The audience enters to see the set on the
stage, violating what should be a cardinal rule of theater: never dispense
with a curtain. Not only does it rob the audience of that valuable moment
when the world outside yields to the world on stage, it lets critics examine
the space at close range and notice things like the Kleenex box with a
design not yet adopted in the 1950s.
Written by Reginald Rose. Directed by Scott
Ellis. Design: Allen Moyer (set) Michael Krass (costumes) Paul Palazzo
(lights) Brian Ronan (sound) John Gromada (original music) Rick Sordelet
(fight direction) Joan Marcus (photography) Paul J. Smith (stage manager).
Cast: Charles Borland, Todd Cerveris, T. Scott Cunningham, Julian Gamble,
Jeffrey Hayenga, David Lively, Randle Mell, Alan Mandell, Mark Morettini,
Patrick New, Jim Saltouros, Richard Thomas, George Wendt, and the voice of
Robert Prosky. |
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May 27 - July 2, 2006
Mame |
Running time 2:30 - one intermission
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for a sparkling revival of Jerry Herman's classic from Broadway's Golden Age
Click here to buy the CD |
Christine Baranski returns to the house where she earned her Helen Hayes
Award as Mrs. Lovett in the Sondheim Celebration opener,
Sweeney Todd. This
time she's the title character in the musical with a score by
Jerry Herman (Hello, Dolly!, La Cage Aux Folles) that has awaited the
services of a star of sufficient magnitude to give it the lift Angela
Lansbury gave the original. The Kennedy Center has found that star and
surrounded her with all the flash, pizzazz and dazzle that she and Mame
deserves. Under Eric Schaeffer's direction, the evening jumps from highlight
to highlight in an eye-filling, toe-tapping series of moments with a superb
supporting cast. There's Baranski liberating Emily Skinner as the hapless
Agnes Gooch, Baranski flirting with Jeff McCarthy as her suitor, Baranski
chumming it up with Harriet Harris as Mame's friend Vera Charles and
Baranski charming both Harrison Chad as Young Patrick and Max von Esen as
Grown Patrick. There's even Baranski alone in a tight spotlight belting "If
He Walked Into My Life Today." But most of all, there's Baranski being
celebrated by the huge cast in the classic Act I closer, the title song that
has become one of the most famous show tunes of all time.
Storyline: A musical version of Patrick
Dennis’ story which tells of a free thinking, fun loving and innocently
eccentric woman who suddenly must raise her nephew who was orphaned at age
twelve. In raising the boy she wants to teach him all about the world and
the wonder of living life to the fullest, but she learns some important
lessons about love and responsibility from him.
This has been quite a week for Eric
Schaeffer. The kids show he directed for a national tour (Barbie
in Fairytopia) opened its first stay in the Potomac Region - a four day
stay at the Hippodrome in Baltimore. His home theatre, the Signature in
Arlington, extended their production of
Assassins even before opening
night because it was almost completely sold out. And this smashing
production of Mame, which has already sold out sixteen of the
remaining 35 scheduled performances, brought Jerry Herman and everyone else
in the packed Eisenhower Theater to their feet on opening night. While the
Kennedy Center deserves kudos for providing all the resources he could
possibly require for a successful revival of this massive musical, it is to
his credit that it never seems weighed down. It remains light and lively
throughout -- except for that one moment when light and lively would be all
wrong: the big "If He Walked Into My Life" torch song solo for Mame in the
second act. Then he brings the scale down to exquisite solitude for his star
to shine. There's talk of a possible transfer to Broadway where the Palace
Theatre has just became available due to the rapid failure of another
vampire musical, Lestat. This production would feel right at home in
that historic house which hosted Herman's hit La Cage Aux Folles (as
well as his flop The Grand Tour).
Walt Spangler's mile-high set for Mame's
living room features a rotating staircase that various members of the cast
ascend and descend in a variety of ways -- everything from Baranski's regal
entrance to Skinner's sliding down the banister. The southern mansion set
for the finale of the first act is a Tara-wannabe of just the right
pretension, while the farm where choreographer Warren Carlyle lets
Baranski really let loose on a swing number, "That's How Young I Feel," is a
simple backdrop of the wide-open spaces of Connecticut. The real visual
spectacle here, however, is in the costumes by Gregg Barnes, especially the
seemingly endless supply of striking outfits for the star of the show whose
dancer-thin body is just right to display creation after creation of haute
couture of the 20s and 30s. The
program lists 22 members of the Kennedy Center Opera House Orchestra
but there were 26 chairs in the pit on opening night. Whatever the count,
the sound of this orchestra in full swing on "Mame," "It's Today," "We Need
A Little Christmas" and both the overture and the entr'Acte is musical
theater heaven. Under the direction of James Moore, their smooth support for
"Bosom Buddies" is a demonstration of how to fill in under a comic duet,
the
swing of "That's How Young I Feel" is brass and reed intensive
and the
blaring trumpet of the overture is to die for. The sound is a tribute to the
quality of the original orchestrations by Philip J. Lang which apparently
are used almost in their entirety. The pit isn't the only place
the Kennedy Center has given the production the size of forces reminiscent
of the golden age of Broadway rather than the current trend where revivals are
frequently slim pickings - this year's revival of
Sweeney Todd has a cast of
11, each of whom must also play an instrument because there isn't an
orchestra at all! Here, not only is the orchestra full and fabulous, the
twenty-four cast members who play characters with names is supported by an
additional nine unnamed members of the ensemble. When they all get on stage
while the orchestra breaks into full force on the title number you feel the
true pulse of musical theater. Music and Lyrics
by Jerry Herman. Book by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee. Directed by Eric
Schaeffer. Choreographed by Warren Carlyle. Music direction by James Moore.
Design: Walt Spangler (set) Gregg Barnes (costumes) Jeffrey Frank (wigs and
hair) Ken Billington (lights) Peter Hylenski (sound) Joan Marcus
(photography) Shari Silberglitt (stage manager). Principal cast:
Christine Baranski, Shane Braddock, Michael Buchanan, Harrison Chad, Alison
Cimmet, Ed Dixon, Parker Esse, Sarah Jane Everman, Michael L. Forrest, Ruth
Gottschall, Harriet Harris, Clark Johnsen, Ethan Langsdorf-Willoughby,
Melissa Rae Mahon, Jeff McCarthy, Alan Muraoka, Joe Paparella, James
Patterson, Tory Ross, Chad L. Schiro, Emily Skinner, Mary Stout, Max von
Essen, Harry A. Winter. Additional ensemble: Jeremy Benton, Susan Derry,
Suzanne Hylenski, Megan Hart Jimenez, Dennis Kenney, Kelly Kohnert, Sean
McKnight, Kiira Schmidt, Laura E. Taylor. |
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April 11 - May 7, 2006
The Canterbury Tales |
Reviewed April 20
Part I running time: 3:00 - one intermission
Part II running time: 3:10 - one intermission
A highly entertaining and often bawdy presentation that goes on just a bit
too long
Click here to buy the book in original spelling
Click here to buy the book in modern translation |
The Royal Shakespeare Company makes its fourth annual stop at the Kennedy Center
with a two-part adaptation of Geoffrey Chaucer's fourteenth century
collection of tales told by a group of travelers on a pilgrimage. The
adaptation by Mike Poulton is in two parts which are presented in repertory.
The company makes the point that the two parts need not be seen in order,
but the explanatory introduction in Part I makes what is to follow much
easier to follow, and Part II has no such prologue. Thus, seeing Part I
before Part II is preferable. Part I also happens to be the more
entertaining and the more ingeniously staged of the two collections. Unless
you are a completist when it comes to your Chaucer, or you always see
absolutely everything the Royal Shakespeare Company brings to the Kennedy
Center, you would be best served by attending just Part I, or at least,
attending Part I before deciding on purchasing tickets for Part II.
Storyline: As people of all classes make a pilgrimage to the shrine of
Saint Thomas à Becket in Canterbury in the late fourteenth century, they
amuse each other by telling tales, each trying to outdo the others with an
elaborate story with a moral. Chaucer completed twenty-six tales most of
which are acted out by the troupe with a minimum of sets or properties but
with a maximum of theatrical ingenuity.
There are three directors listed in the
program but just who directed which tale is not revealed. It seems to make a
difference, however. Part I is brimming with directorial touches of note
with a swirling movement of the cast over the stage in the crowd scenes,
fluid transitions, some very impressive visual effects and a bright sense of
whimsy. The travelers are at times astride stick-horses, one traveler
carries a dog that is an ingeniously operated puppet, a joust is staged with
massive horse costumes and stilts and there is a thrillingly choreographed
sword fight. Part II, on the other hand, seems to be filled with, well, more
of the same. More puppetry is well done and the addition of shadow effects
is a nice touch. But the basic structure of the piece has settled in early
in Part I and Part II's most distinguishing feature is that it contains "The
Wife of Bath's Tale." It and "The Miller's Tale" are probably the two most
familiar. The company puts "The Miller's Tale" in Part I.
The same cast performs both Parts. As can be
expected of the Royal Shakespeare Company, it is a cast of distinction with
strong classical acting skills. Mark Hadfield is the narrator, Chaucer
himself. In the introduction in Part I he blends the meter of Chaucer's Old
English with more modern vocabulary, establishing the sound of the piece
which is easy on modern ears. He also breaks that mood at times to very good
effect. His Part II opening bit is to turn the prelude to "Chaucer's Tale of
Sir Thopas," the only tale that Chaucer wrote as if he himself was the
storyteller, into a very funny rap song. The director carries the gag on a
bit too long, however.
With a cast of twenty it is difficult to single out
the most notable but Nick Barber and Daon Broni are the active, virile
youths (they are the ones engaged in the well-staged sword fight), Michael Jibson is a more humorous youth and Claire Benedict makes a delightful Wife
of Bath. Music and song are an important part of the show and four musicians
are off stage (until the curtain call) providing atmospheric backup not just
to the rap song, but to the roisterous revelry and the more tender
ballads.
Written by Geoffrey Chaucer. Adapted by Mike
Poulton. Directed by Gregory Doran, Rebecca Gatward and Jonathan Munby.
Music composed by Adrian Lee. Music direction by Sylvia Hallett. Movement by
Michael Ashcroft. Fight direction by Terry King. Design: Michael Vale
(set and costumes) Wayne Dowdeswell (lights) Jeremy Dunn (sound)
Stewart Hemley (photography (c) RSC) Ben Delfont (production stage manager)
Elaine M. Randolph (U.S. stage manager). Cast: Nick Barber, Claire Benedict, Daon Broni, Dylan Charles, Paola Dionisotti, Lisa Ellis, Christopher Godwin,
Mark Hadfield, Michael Hadley, Anna Hewson, Edward Hughes, Michael Jibson,
Michael Matus, Barry McCarthy, Chu Omambala, Ian Pirie, Joshua Richards,
Christopher Saul, Katherine Tozer, Darren Tunstall. Musicians: Sarah Balls,
Max Gittings, Sylvia Hallett, Jan Hendrickse. |
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January 7 - 29, 2006
The Subject was
Roses |
Reviewed January 13
Running time 2:05 - one intermission
An interesting look at the 1940's viewed from the 1960's
Click here to buy the script |
The effort to capture magic from the past is always
difficult, whether you are reaching back 20 years as playwright Frank D.
Gilroy was in 1965 when he wrote this Tony and Pulitzer Prize winning three-character piece in the then-popular
theatrical form called realism, or if you are reaching back just over one
year as the Kennedy Center and director Leonard Foglia are now with the
second revival of a major Broadway hit play. A year ago, Foglia's revival of On Golden Pond had the star power
with James Earl Jones to transfer to Broadway where
it was nominated for the Tony Award for best revival of a play even if it
didn't run very long. Here the stars are Bill Pullman and Judith Ivey. While Foglia manages to provide an interesting evening of theater, he never
manages to hit the pay dirt of emotional power the play obviously intends to
deliver. You can tell the Kennedy Center hoped for another transfer, for the
program lists a National Press Representative, the Broadway operation of
Michael Borowski's Publicity Office. No Broadway house has announced it will
present the production, however.
Storyline: A soldier returns from the battlefields of World War II to the
West Bronx apartment where he grew up with his parents who spent most of the
war keeping their marriage together by ignoring each other. Father and son
go to a ball game together, when they come home the son has brought a
bunch of roses for his mother, just as his father used to do when the
marriage was strong and healthy. She believes they are from the father but
soon learns the truth as the only passion the pair seem able to share is
anger.
Often, when people complain
that a piece is "dated" it seems as if a work of art being of its time is a
crime. Nothing could be farther from the truth. But it is difficult to stage
a thoroughly satisfying revival of a play that is so much of its time that
it works best only when the audience brings into the theater certain shared
emotional baggage that the playwright attempts to touch. A truly timeless
great work like Arthur Miller's All My Sons provides in the text all
the basic experiences needed for even an audience that didn't experience
World War II to connect with the emotional turmoil in the family being
portrayed. Not so this 1960's look back at the 1945 post-war
environment about which Gilroy was writing. He presumed, rightly we are to
believe from the success of the play, that an audience filled with people
who were either old enough to have been parents of the soldiers of World War
II or were the returning soldiers themselves didn't need clues to the
attitudes that would have filled these character's lives. Audiences in the
twentieth-first century don't bring that emotional resource into the theater,
and neither Gilroy's script nor Foglia's direction manage to make up for the
lack.
This is not to say that there isn't an interesting
story going on on stage, nor that the performances lack power. They do the
best with what they've got and that is quite good, indeed. Bill Pullman is
angst-ridden as the husband and father who can't connect with his own
family. Judith Ivey is brittle and sharp as the wife scarred by years of
deceit and disappointment, and Steve Kazee is virile and strong as the
returning son. They go through their paces with skill, good taste and
refreshingly unaffected naturalistic technique that is a match for the tone
and approach of the author. The result is, as it is supposed to be, very
much one of eavesdropping on strangers at the dramatic climax of their lives
together.
The set matches that naturalistic feel even as it
stretches across the wide expanse of the Eisenhower stage. Two rooms of an
apparently four room apartment are behind an external wall of windows that
serves as the show curtain. Before and between acts the cast can be seen
going about their lives through those windows. Then the entire wall flies up
to reveal the kitchen and living room. Donald Holder's beautiful lighting
transcends naturalism to create a super-realism which is marvelous. Indeed,
the visual impact of some scenes may linger in memory longer than the
performances. The entire package is a tasteful, memorable look at a rarely
seen but important work from the 1960s.
Written by Frank D. Gilroy. Directed by Leonard Foglia.
Fight direction by Rick Sordelet. Design: Neil Patel (set) Jess Goldstein
(costumes) Donald Holder (lights) David Van Tieghem (sound), Katherine Lee
Boyer (stage manager). Cast: Judith Ivey, Steve Kazee, Bill Pullman. |
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June 24 - July 10, 2005
Red, White and
Tuna |
Reviewed June 29
Running time 2:00 - one intermission
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for Affectionate Humor
and Rock Solid Performances |
Very few live performances ever seem exactly the same two nights in a row.
So how can these two gentle souls seem exactly the same two decades in a
row? Joe Sears and Jaston Williams brought their affectionate portrait of
life in the third smallest town in the Lone Star State to the Kennedy Center
over twenty years ago. They have brought the cast of twenty-some-odd
characters (and odd is the operative word) back to renew our acquaintance
many times in the original Greater Tuna, in the holiday themed A
Tuna Christmas and this Fourth of July edition Red, White and
Tuna. They are back and the package is as genuinely entertaining
and downright funny as ever.
Storyline: A day in the life of small town Tuna, Texas.
In this case, the day is the Fourth of July and the big
question is "who will be elected Queen of the High School
Reunion?" It begins as every day does with the farm report
on 275 watt WKKK radio. There's Bertha Bumiller fixing
breakfast for her children, the oh-so-pregnant daughter and
the newly prominent artist son who made his mark painting
road kill. Petey Fisk is delivering public service
announcements for the humane society and the smut snatchers
are working to get dirty words excised from the hymns sung
at church. But the big cliff hanger is whether Bertha and
Arles will finally get married. Did we mention that RR
Snavely returns from his 1,999 day adventure as a prisoner
on a UFO?
Sears and Williams have been doing this for more than two
decades. They wrote all three plays with Ed Howard who
directs them all as well. How they manage to keep their
performances rock-solid and sharp is a wonder. It isn’t so
much a case of keeping it "fresh," for the material is
highly crafted and stylized, admitting no off-the-cuff
improvising. No, the two of them go through their paces one
night just as they do on any other night, with precision.
When you have material this good, don’t mess with it.
Audience anticipation is a major factor in the humor. Even
those who are making their first visit to Tuna, Texas,
quickly size up the routine and can feel some of the punch
lines a mile away. There is a satisfying feeling when the
lines actually land. There is a feeling of topical humor
although most of the barbs are the same as they were twenty
years ago.
Sears, the hefty one, gives individual life to ten
characters, but his most memorable creation is Bertha
Bumiller, matron of the mismatched family, keen observer of
all her neighbors and voice of petulant reason. As in all
Tuna shows, she anchors the events in her polyester suit. In
this case it is green polyester over a red and white blouse.
Sears can get an audience to see the world through a
character’s eyes with such apparent ease it that it seems
effortless, even if it really is the culmination of years
developing the craft of acting. Williams, the wiry one,
orbits Sears’ characters with one outlandish creation after
another. His sense of timing is a marvel. He can draw out
the space between a two word exclamation to gigantic
proportions, taking the audience along with him.
These two, along with their director Ed Howard, have
maintained this innocent slice of small town Americana in
marvelous shape, making a visit to Tuna as fresh and fun as
ever. The humor is often just shy of groan inducing but is
always devoid of any sense of superiority or animosity.
These guys love the characters they create and the people
they are lampooning. They poke affectionate fun at
themselves rather than standing aside criticizing and
belittling their subjects. This is a put on, not a put down.
Written by Joe Sears, Jaston Williams and Ed Howard.
Directed by Ed Howard. Design: Kevin Rupnik (set) Linda Fisher (costumes) Root
Choyce (lights) Ken Huncovsky (sound) David M. Allen
(photography) Robert Tolaro (stage manager). Cast: Joe
Sears, Jaston Williams. |
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March 12 - April 3, 2005
Mister Roberts |
Reviewed March 17
Running time 1:50 - one intermission
A satisfying, substantial revival
Click here to buy the script |
This return to the sentimental post World War II
comedy is substantial and satisfying if not quite inspiring. The view of
authors Thomas Heggen and Joshua Logan was the mind set of an entire nation
in 1948, rejoicing in total victory, reveling in the release of the
incredible psychic pressure of not knowing what the outcome of the war would
be. It was a country where gung-ho was both the norm and the standard by
which manhood was judged. This gentle comedy about sailors trapped in the
backwater of the war, itching for action and victimized by an egotistical
authority figure, played to every one of the then-current emotions and
memories. For this revival, the theatrical centerpiece of the Kennedy
Center's season-long celebration of the 1940s, Director Robert Longbottom
reaches for, and frequently finds, more universal themes that connect to
contemporary audiences who bring a bit more skepticism and less certainty
into the theatre with them.
Storyline: In the last days of World War II, the crew of an insignificant
cargo craft that sailed “from tedium to apathy and back again” in the “safe
areas” of the Pacific are shielded from the worst of their incompetent
Captain’s abuse of power by the one officer aboard who they can admire, Mr.
Roberts. Unbeknownst to them, he gives in to the Captain’s demand that he
cease his efforts to be transferred in exchange for granting the men their
first liberty in over a year.
Heggen and Logan titled their piece after its central
character, the cargo officer who is the first (and for a time, the last)
line of defense between the crew and the captain. Rather than search for a
big name star with a strong persona to try to compete with the memory of the
role's originator, Henry Fonda, Longbottom has entrusted that role, and the
entire production for that matter, on relative unknown Michael Dempsey. It
was a gutsy call and it pays off, sort of. He has the clean cut manliness
and the aw-shucks self depreciating charm the part requires, but, while he
flies fairly high, he doesn't quite soar in those critical moments where
Mr. Roberts hits his emotional peaks - the final confrontation with the
captain staged behind closed doors but heard through the ship's public
address system, and the moment when his friend Doc gets him to recognize
how much he means to the crew and how much they mean to him.
Frank Deal creates a fine portrait of the strutting
martinet of a Captain, a merchant mariner mobilized for the war effort who
knows that command of a cargo scow is as high as he'll ever rise, but insists
that it is a magnificent cap to a notable career and who hates anyone or
anything that might expose the myth of his pretension. Hunter Foster,
stepping off the musical stage for a while (yes, he's the Hunter Foster who
sang his way from Urinetown to the Little Shop of Horrors on Broadway) is a
kick as Ensign Pulver, the ship's laundry and morale officer whose presence
on the ship comes as a surprise to the Captain even though he's been aboard
for fourteen months. When he finally discovers his backbone after a career
of avoiding confrontation, it is a defining moment for the play and a great
deal of fun to watch.
The elements of the production which make the most
impression, however, are the sailors in the ship's crew and the ship itself.
The sailors, a frustrated bunch who haven't had a shore liberty in ages,
have bonded into a unit relying on each other for at least some
understanding of their troubles. The thirteen actors with named parts as
enlisted men in the crew (including the impressive presence of Jim Zidar as
their Chief) as well as the five doubling as simply "Seaman" create just
such a unit and the believability of their camaraderie is really what makes
the show work. That, and a towering realistic set of the deck of the
USS Reluctant.
Written by Thomas Heggen and Joshua Logan
based on Heggen’s novel. Directed by Robert Longbottom. Design: Andrew
Jackness (set) Suzy Benzinger (costumes) Brad Waller (fight choreography)
Ken Billington (lights) John Gromada (sound) Joan Marcus (photography)
Lloyd Davis, Jr. (stage manager). Cast: Field Blauvelt, Clinton Brandhagen,
Jeff Cusimano, Frank Deal, Michael Dempsey, Ted Feldman, Hunter Foster,
Andrew Honeycutt, Beth Hylton, David Johnson, Nehal Joshi, Stephen Kunken,
Robert Michael McClure, Thomas Nunan, Kip Pierson, Michael Vitaly Sazonov,
Todd Scofield, Stephen Thomas, Jacob Michael Thornhill, Timothy Warmen,
Peter Wylie, Jim Zidar. |
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September 28 - October 17,
2004
On Golden Pond |
Reviewed October 2
Running time 2:20 - one intermission
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for
James Earl Jones' performance
Click here to buy the Script |
James Earl Jones makes the first entrance of the
show and, on the arm of Leslie Uggams, he makes the final exit. In between,
it is the James Earl Jones show as he puts his stamp on a role filled with
humor, affection and sentimentality cloaked in anti-sentimentality.
Somewhere around the middle of Act I a surprising thing happens. As strong a
personality as Jones is and as indelibly as that personality has been
established in the audience's mind, at some indefinable moment Jones becomes
the character he is playing. You are no longer watching the actor you've
known all these years, you are watching a magical blend of James Earl Jones
and Norman Thayer, Jr. which, if you remember the film of this play, means
he has managed to dispel the memories of Henry Fonda - no mean trick in
itself. With a professional respect for the material which was written for
others, he makes it his own and all of a sudden that material seems uniquely
Jones-ish. This is the difference between a gigantic ego trip where a star
of this magnitude ignores the contributions of others and a fabulous piece
of acting.
Storyline: An irascible retired professor and
his wife spend their 48th summer in their house in the woods on Golden Pond
in Maine, well aware that his health is fading and that this may be their
final summer in the house which has seen so much of their personal history.
Their divorced daughter comes to visit, bringing the new man in her life and
his 13 year old son. The daughter and her new man go off on a trip together
which turns out to be their wedding trip, leaving the boy behind who
establishes a bond with the professor that rejuvenates him, giving the
couple reason to look forward to whatever time health allows them to still
have.
When it was first announced that James Earl
Jones would appear with a well known and highly regarded co-star in this
warmly human comic drama, it was widely assumed it would be a night to
remember. When it was announced that the well known, highly regarded Diahann
Carroll had to drop out due to an injury, and that she would be replaced by
the equally well known, highly regarded Leslie Uggams, it would be mind
boggling to think that a single patron might ask for a refund. Ms. Uggams does a
fine job, but nothing she could do would keep this from being Jones' show.
With only one week of rehearsal, she turns in a clean, clear and crisp
performance that is the mark of a true "pro." It would be interesting to see
just how her performance will have deepened by the end of the short run.
The supporting cast is just as strong as it
needs to be to hold its own with Jones on the stage. Peter Francis James is
a nice foil for Jones in the prototypical "suitor meets future
father-in-law" scene which has more zingers for Jones' character per minute
of stage time than any other scene in the play. James even manages to summon
the backbone needed to assert his intention to sleep with his intended,
delivering a number of straight lines for Jones to punch with a blend of
pizzazz and aplomb. The best of the bunch is young Alexander Mitchell, fresh
from his Broadway work on A Raisin In The Sun. He seems to have the talent
and determination to make a go of this business which means that fifty years
from now he can regale his colleagues and fans with stories of how he once
shared the stage with James Earl Jones. He won't be prevaricating when he
says he managed to hold his own.
That stage, by the way, is a lovely set
designed by Ray Klausen with a backdrop of Golden Pond itself. (Just what we
were to read into the fact that the backdrop was contained in a frame is not
for this reviewer to say. Let each member of the audience ponder it on his
or her own!) That backdrop, as lit by Brian Nason, shimmers and ripples with
the currents on the pond while clouds waft over the surrounding wooded hills
and the moon comes out at key moments. Dan Moses Schreier provides original
music as lush and lovely as the score of a movie while adding the sound of a
loon at just the moments specified in the script. All of the loveliness of
the physical production, however, is simply an effort to avoid being totally
eclipsed by James Earl Jones. The effort is successful enough to get through
the evening but few, if any, members of the audience will recall anything
but Jones' fabulous performance in a week or two.
Written by Ernest Thompson. Directed by
Leonard Foglia. Design: Ray Klausen (set) Jane Greenwood (costumes) Brian
Nason (lights) Dan Moses Schreier (original music and sound) Scott Suchman
(photography) Kelley Kirkpatrick (stage manager). Cast: Craig Bockhorn,
Peter Francis James, James Earl Jones, Alexander Mitchell, Linda Powell,
Leslie Uggams. |
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July 17 – August 8, 2004
The Glass Menagerie |
Reviewed July 22
Running time 2:35 - one intermission
Winner of the Usher's
Favorite Show Award for July, 2004
Click here to buy the script |
Sally Field stars in
the last full scale production in the “Tennessee Williams Explored” series,
Williams’ 1945 “memory play” set in pre-World War II St. Louis. She and a
fine supporting cast take a subtle approach to Williams' portrait of a woman
already stretched beyond her capacity to absorb the blows of life getting
one last shock. The result is a rather restrained version of the play,
although it offers many delicate pleasures, and the balance between the key
characters is more even than is often the case. This is particularly true of
the balance between Field as Amanda and Jason Butler Harner as her grown son
chafing under the twin burdens of her overbearing control and the
realization that he is, in fact, her only available means of support. The
subtlety, however, robs Field of the opportunity to score a knockout punch
of an effect at the end of the play when Amanda's final dream collapses.
Instead of an implosion to match the collapse, Field dissolves. It is a
moment that takes as long to settle in to the audience's consciousness as it
took for its cause to penetrate Amanda's remaining resolve.
Storyline: Genteel Amanda has been abandoned by her husband and disappointed
by her grown offspring. Her daughter is slightly crippled physically but
severely crippled emotionally while her son, the breadwinner of the
household, longs to get out of the house and out from under her stifling
control. She places enormous importance on an otherwise meaningless event
when her son brings a co-worker home to dinner. With her expectations
unreasonably high, the failure of the evening is too much for her to bear.
From the moment of
Field's entrance it is quite clear that she could dominate the stage, taking
the evening out of the hands of her colleagues, but that she has no intention
of pulling such star-billing rank. Instead, she rapidly establishes a
rapport, first with Harner whose character has already been very well
established in his introductory narration, and then with Jennifer Dundas, who
plays her daughter, a character of seemingly paper-thin significance to
match her sense of self worth but one that, in Dundas' hands emerges slowly.
Director Gregory
Mosher approaches the play as two interlocking parts. One part is the story
of Amanda's relationship with her children which is at the hear of the
piece. The other, however, is the story of the daughter and her lack of a
relationship with the co-worker her brother brings home for dinner. It is
telling that he is identified in the cast of characters as simply the
"Gentleman Caller" when the dialogue gives his full name as Jim O'Connor,
for it is as the "Gentleman Caller" that he is important in the story of
Amanda, while it is as Jim O'Connor that he is important in the story of her
daughter, Laura. Identify him as you will, the performance of Corey Brill in
the role is bright, sharp and has just the right touch of humor.
The visual impact of
the production is marvelous. John Lee Beatty's fully detailed two-rooms of
the family's home is flanked by stairs and fire escapes making its status as
a tenement quite clear, while surrounding the entire structure with the
skyline of St. Louis and the dance-hall across the street from which wafts
John Gromada's sounds of a dance band (was that a hint of the theme from
Picnic at one point?). Jane Greenwood's costumes are just right for time,
place, economic fortunes and social pretensions. Only in the rather
over-done gimmick of having the portrait of Amanda's absent husband change,
as if it were a slide show, did the design distract.
Written by Tennessee Williams. Directed by
Gregory Mosher. Design: John Lee Beatty (set) Jane Greenwood (costumes) Tom
Watson (wigs and hair) Aaron Copp (lights) John Gromada (original music and
sound) Joan Marcus (photographer) Jeanette Buck (stage manager). Cast: Corey Brill, Jennifer Dundas,
Sally Field, Jason Butler Harner. |
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June 12 – July 4, 2004
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof |
Reviewed June 17
Running time 3:05 - two intermissions
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for superb acting
in a classic of the American stage
Click here to buy the Script |
The Kennedy Center's Tennessee Williams Explored
series continues with an outstanding production of one of Williams' better
known works. Williams created four unforgettable characters in one
play (and two other very interesting smaller parts). He provides at least
three scenes that have become part of the collective consciousness of
theater lovers. The play is revived frequently (the most recent Broadway
revival just closed three months ago). This is a revival to remember and
treasure with three terrific performances in a substantial
production that has all the heft and passion the work deserves. The
cumulative effect of the work under Mark Lamos' direction is precisely what
we all hoped for when the series was announced -- a new and top quality
production of a play that rewards revisits.
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. The marriage of Big Daddy and his wife
Big Mamma has been a cruel sham for a long time.
The first of three acts belongs to Mary
Stuart Masterson who, as Maggie, burns with a passion and sense of desperation
in the face of her husband's passionless degeneration and neglect. Masterson
masters the trick required by Williams stage directions in which he says
"her voice is both rapid and drawling . . . always continuing a little
beyond her breath so she has to gasp for another." She uses this seeming
idiosyncrasy as a spring board for demonstrating the unique mixture of
regret, passion, pride and love that makes Maggie such a compelling character.
The depth of feeling established in her first act gives her the basis for
the strength she demonstrates in the climax. She plays most of her scenes
with Jeremy Davidson as the disconsolate inebriate Brick, who drinks to get
to the point where he hears the "click" in his head that signals release
from the pain of memory. The role of Brick is always a difficult one for so
much of it is played in support for either Cat or Big Daddy but Davidson
makes it a solid presence throughout the entire play.
After Masterson's first act, the rest of the
play belongs to George Grizzard as Big Daddy. From the moment he first
strides on stage early in Act II his growl is a force to be feared, and he
is the power in this typically Williams-ish dysfunctional family. He
commands the space around him, dictating everyone else's place in the cosmos
simply by force of will. Only Davidson's Brick seems partially immune from
his total domination. Since Brick doesn't want anything from Big Daddy he's
free to say what he thinks and feels, even if he is trying to avoid thinking
or feeling at all. Big Daddy's dismissive contempt for Big Mamma comes
across loud and clear from Grizzard, but Dana Ivey's take on Big Mamma
waivers after an impressive first scene. She gets more out of the line about
"a marriage on the rocks" than any I've seen, but it sets up a too strong
willed matriarch to make her relationship with her husband consistent over
the course of the play. Finally, Grizard's scream of emotional agony when he
realizes the truth of the diagnosis of cancer is the kind of moment that
sends chills down your spine, and his exit is a superb mixture of resignation
and resolve.
Lamos' direction is a lesson in clarity,
imposing a solid sense of storytelling on all the forces involved but
avoiding any distracting excesses. Emily Skinner and T. Scott Cunningham
benefit most from this clarity as their smaller roles as Big Daddy's other
son and his ever-pregnant wife are given telling moments of their own which
blend into the story rather than standing out as exceptions to the central
narrative. John Lee Beatty's gorgeous bedroom set and Jane Greenwood's
elegantly right costumes complete the sense of place, while John Gromada's
soundscape draws the audience into the world of Big Daddy, especially during
the storm sequence when the forces of nature outside are matched only by the
force of Big Daddy's will inside the house.
Written by Tennessee Williams. Directed by
Mark Lamos. Design: John Lee Beatty (set) Jane Greenwood (costumes) Tom
Watson (hair and wigs) Brad Waller (fight choreography) Howell Binkley
(lights) John Gromada (sound) Joan Marcus (photography) Elaine M. Randolph
(stage manager). Cast: T. Scott Cunningham, Jeremy Davidson, Aakhu TuahNera
Freeman, George Grizzard, Lexi Haddad, M. Justin Hancock, Dana Ivey, Mary Stuart Masterson,
Nathan Pratt, Caitlin Redding, Brian Reddy, Emily Skinner, Erin Elizabeth
Wall, Jeorge Watson, Harry A. Winter. |
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May 8 - 30, 2004
A Streetcar Named Desire |
Reviewed May 13
Running time 3 hours 5 minutes
Winner of the Usher's
Favorite Show Award for May, 2004 |
In this, the first major
production of the Kennedy Center's Tennessee Williams Explored festival, no
expense is spared to create the most sumptuously realized replica of life in
New Orleans' French Quarter as it existed in Williams' memory and
imagination. The result is a production that must be seen to be believed. At
the same time, the emphasis on production values highlights the limitations
of the dramatic interpretation being offered in Garry Hynes' approach which
is more literal than literate. The emphasis is on the marvelous language of
Williams, especially in the crystal clarity of Patricia Clarkson's fragile
older sister, and the honesty of Amy Ryan's line readings as the younger one,
rather than on the smoldering unspoken aspects of Williams' script.
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 New Orleans. When she arrives she's shocked to find her
sister's home is a rundown one-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.
Every production of
Streetcar rises or falls on the performance of its Blanche. Here Patricia
Clarkson creates a super-fragile Blanche DuBoise with a marvelously
effective first act. When her Blanche first arrives she is all but exhausted
by the journey to New Orleans and all but destroyed by the realization of
her sister's living conditions. Clarkson pulls a neat trick by having her
character gain strength after a bit of a rest and a
chance to absorb the shock. This momentary blip in the steady decline
throughout the evening gives Clarkson a higher peak from which to launch her
character's ultimate fall. It works beautifully until the middle of the
second act when there is no matching blip from the early stages of her
flirtation with her brother-in-law's poker buddy, played with restraint by
Noah Emmerich. She continues her decline without much variation but with a
sense of inevitability that is nearly hypnotic.
Adam Rothenberg's take on brother-in-law
Stanley Kowalski is a bit long on charm and short on carnal animalism,
making the fascination he holds for both Amy Ryan as his wife and Clarkson as
Blanche seem driven more by the playwright's decisions than by the
characters' emotions. With Ryan to play against, he makes clear his primal need for his wife, symbolized by the famous
wail of "Stella!" which draws her back into his arms even after abuse.
Still, the fateful combination of attraction, suspicion and loathing between
him and Blanche never approaches the sexual intensity it needs. Of the four
principals it is Ryan who gives the most satisfying performance capturing
both Stella's reliance on her husband and her devotion to her sister.
Jane Greenwood's
costumes are so spot-on, so illustrative of time, place and character and so
natural - right down to the attention to the scuffs on the shoes - that the
illusion is complete. Scott Lehrer's soundscape is at times breathtakingly
appropriate ,not only with its echoey jazz wafting up from beyond the windows
of the apartment but in the sounds of tenement life such as the ring of the
phone in the Hubbell's apartment upstairs. John Lee Beatty's meticulously
detailed set is revealed in all the conditions of day and night ranging from
bright morning to rainy evening through Howell Binkley's evocative lighting.
Some of the mechanics of stagecraft are too visible, the set is ringed by a
veritable proscenium of theatrical lights and there is a relentless infusion
of mist as if to remind us that this is a steamy locale.
It says something when a director has to use a
machine to infuse a level of steaminess into one of Williams' steamiest
plays.
Written by Tennessee
Williams. Directed by Garry Hynes. Movement by Karma Camp. Design: John Lee Beatty (set) Jane
Greenwood (costumes) Tom Watson (hair and wigs) Howell Binkley
(lights) Scott Lehrer (sound) Joan Marcus (photography) Paul-Douglas Michnewicz (stage manager). Cast: Cynthia Benjamin, Michael John Casey,
Patricia Clarkson, Noah Emmerich, Robert Michael McClure, Amy McWilliams,
Adam Rothenberg, Amy Ryan, Tony Simione, Joshua Skidmore, Catherine Weidner.
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December 13, 2003 – January 4, 2004
The Taming of the Shrew |
Reviewed December 13
Running time 2 hours 50 minutes
t
A
Potomac Stages Pick for
sumptuous classical theater
|
England’s Royal Shakespeare Company returns to the Kennedy Center for the
second of five once-a-year visits, this time offering a repertory of one of
Shakespeare’s most produced plays and one of the least produced of his
contemporaries’ plays. The Tamer Tamed by John Fletcher plays six
performances while this production of The Taming of the Shrew will
have seventeen by January 4. It is a solid, satisfying and even sumptuous
presentation of a staple of the output of the Bard of Stratford on Avon.
Storyline: A gentleman from Verona marries the daughter of a wealthy
gentleman of Padua whose reputation is far from that of gentlewoman - she’s
known as Kate the Cursed, a shrew of the highest magnitude. He’s determined
to mold her into his idea of an ideal wife, obedient and submissive.
Meanwhile, the multiple suitors for her younger sister’s hand compete for
the lovely girl they always felt was the prize of the family now that the
girls’ father’s determination to have his eldest daughter wed first no
longer keeps her out of circulation.
No
curtain hides the set as the audience files into the Eisenhower. Pre-show
examinations reveal an assembly of doors and two ranks of balconies, one of
which houses an orchestra of seven musicians. But this isn’t going to be
Cole Porter’s Kiss Me, Kate, the musical about a troupe presenting a
musical version of The Shrew. The players are there to provide
suitable Elizabethan tunes to set the mood and period for this production
set in its natural time and place. As the show unfolds, the set proves its
versatility as a playing space for a story that takes place in a variety of
locations and as a frame for some intriguing visual effects including
scudding clouds and a fluttering snowfall.
This
production provides what one has come to expect from one of the premiere
classical theaters in the world: clarity of direction, energy in the
presentation, and distinctive performances from a cast of superb craftsmen
down to the most minor of roles. We have come to expect that because we live
in a city with another of the premiere classical theaters in the world, the
Shakespeare Theatre. They haven’t done this play since the 1994-95 season,
however, so it was high time for a classical production to renew our
acquaintance with and appreciation for one of Shakespeare’s earliest hits.
Jasper Britton gives the role of the tamer of this shrew a different
interpretation than most, presenting a disheveled and slightly desperate
gentleman whose macho pride is nearly matched by his need for a companion to
share his life. Alexandra Gibreath matches this with a Kate that comes to
want a partnership even if it is on a basis that modern feminists find
objectionable. The strength of their mutual need and their mutual attraction
gives their battle a heft not seen in many other productions.
Written by William Shakespeare. Directed by Gregory Doran. Music direction
by Michael Tubbs. Design: Stephen Brimson Lewis (set and costumes) Michael
Ashcroft (movement) Tim Mitchell (lights) Paul Englishby (music) Martin
Slavin (sound) Steve Pyke (photography) Elaine M. Randolph (stage manager).
Cast: Tom Anderson, Jasper Britton, Paul Chahidi, Esther Ruth Elliot, Ian
Gelder, Alexandra Gilbreath, Christopher Godwin, Christopher Harvey, Daniel
Hawksford, Rory Kinnear, John Lightbody, Oliver Maltman, Eve Myles, Bill
Nash, Keith Osborn, David Peart, Nathan Rimell, Nicolas Tennant, Simon
Trinder, Beth Vyse. |
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October 21 – November 16, 2003
Bounce |
Reviewed November 4
Running time 2 hours 35 minutes |
The best news for musical theater fans to hit the wires on the day this
brand new Stephen Sondheim musical opened its short run in what was presumed
to be its two-city pre-Broadway tryout was the announcement that the score
will be recorded next Sunday for release on Nonesuch Records, preserving for
posterity the best thing about this otherwise disappointing show. The fact
that no theater on Broadway has been booked for this show to transfer to
that official Mecca of Musicals 225 miles to the north of the Potomac Region
makes it appear the investors don’t think it has a chance for a financially
successful Broadway run. When the recording is released it will probably
make people who never saw the show wonder just why it didn’t.
Storyline: Two brothers die of heart attacks at the same
time and meet in the anteroom of heaven where they renew sibling bonds
despite a lifetime of rivalry which is reviewed in flashback. They have in
common a life long ability to bounce back from adversity and reach for the
next great opportunity in the pursuit of “The American Dream,” but their
approaches are decidedly different as one is a sometimes visionary architect
and developer while the other is a con man and schemer.
The
score is identifiably Sondheim. Particularly, it is Sondheim in his lighter
moods. Each number offers melodies, harmonies, tempos and rhythmic
structures crafted to the needs of the message and mood of the scene into
which they fit; and the lyrics, as all Sondheim lyrics are, are literate,
precise, full of imagery and reflective of the thought process of both their
writer and the character. Sondheim never uses almost the right word or makes
a word carry almost its natural meaning -- unless, of course, it is a pun or
a joke. As they always are, these Sondheim lyrics have been polished to a
seamless shine. But they, and the melodies that they sit upon so well, are
in service to scenes that are at times unfocused and confusing and, by the
end, don’t seem to add up to a consistent story that simply demands to be
told. Without that, Bounce feels more like a stylishly staged musical
revue built on a collection of Sondheim songs.
The
book for this musical is by John Weidman with whom Sondheim wrote both
Pacific Overtures and Assassins, and who also wrote books for
musicals such as Big, and Contact. Musicals, particularly
Stephen Sondheim musicals, are highly collaborative efforts and Bounce is a
product of teamwork between the composer/lyricist, book writer and director.
Here the director is the legendary Harold Prince, with whom Sondheim
collaborated on such landmark musicals as Pacific Overtures, Company,
Follies, and Sweeney Todd. Put them all together and this is a
legendary team working on a project that had intrigued Sondheim since the
early 1950s, before he’d written his first Broadway lyrics (West Side
Story) -- turn the real-life story of the Meisner Brothers who were
instrumental in the real estate boom in Florida in the early part of the
Twentieth Century into a musical comedy.
The
cast includes a hard working Richard Kind who never seems to become the
character of the architect and Howard McGillin who bounces through the part
of the con man without making much impression, as well as two women who make
a positive impression when they are on stage but never seem to have much to
do with the story being told. Michele Pawk is a girl the brothers meet in
Alaska during the gold rush and Jane Powell is the boys' mother. Powell’s
character comes across as one that must have a fascinating story behind her
but it isn’t told in this show. The cast cavorts before a brightly efficient
setting designed by Eugene Lee which uses cloth drops for the buildings the
brothers inhabit or build. Jonathan Tunick has provided his usual impressive
orchestrations for this new Sondheim score but the vocals and dialogue are
delivered through Duncan Robert Edwards’ audio design which sounds thin and
treble heavy. It renders the fairly delicate voice of Gavin Creel as a young
man that catches the architect’s eye nearly unintelligible at times.
Book by John Weidman.
Music and Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim. Directed by Harold Prince. Music
Direction by David Caddick. Choreographed by Michael Arnold. Design: Eugene
Lee (set) Miguel Angel Huidor (costumes) David H. Lawrence (hair and wigs)
Howell Binkley (lights) Duncan Robert Edwards (sound) Jonathan Tunick
(orchestrations) Liz Lauren (photography) Matthew Leiner (stage manager.)
Cast: Gavin Creel, Richard Kind, Herndon Lackey, Howard McGillin, Michele
Pawk, Jane Powell. |
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June 5 – 22, 2003
Barbara Cook 2003 |
Reviewed June 5, 2003
Running time 1 hour 40 minutes
Ticket price $35 - $45 |
One year after her Helen Hayes Award nominated performance in the concert
“Mostly Sondheim,” twenty five years after her legendary Carnegie Hall
Concert that started a second career for the lady with astonishing vocal
gifts, and over half a century after her debut on Broadway where she
originated the roles of Cunegonde in Candide, Marian the Librarian in
The Music Man and Amalia Balash in She Loves Me, Barbara Cook
continues to mesmerize audiences with purity of tone, fidelity to the
meaning of lyrics and a delightful stage presence.
Storyline: Barbara Cook sings "It’s Not Where You Start," "It Might As Well Be
Spring," "Wonderful Guy," "This Nearly Was Mine," "The Gentleman Is A Dope,"
"Can’t
Help Lovin’ Dat Man," "Bill," "Nobody Else But Me," "It’s Wonderful," "I Got The Sun
In The Morning," "Love Makes The World Go Round," "Her Face," "Very Next Man,"
"You’re A Builder-Upper," "Too Good To Be True," "Time Heals Everything," "Look
What Happened To Mabel," "Everybody Says Don’t," "Another Hundred People," "So
Many People," "In Buddy’s Eyes," "You Could Drive A Person Crazy," "Send In The
Clowns," "The Trolley Song" and then goes of mike to fill the hall with an unamplified encore.
This
program isn’t as focused as was her last visit to the Kennedy Center. Then,
it was part of the extraordinary Sondheim Celebration and she was presenting
a survey of his work and the work of others whom he included in his list of
songs he wished he had written. Here, she is taking a broader view of the
classics of the American musical theater (almost all the songs come from
Broadway shows rather than from musical films or tin pan alley pop songs).
Some of the songs that were part of last year’s concert are in this one and
they all sound just as good - "The Trolley Song," "You Could Drive A Person
Crazy" and “In Buddy’s Eyes" in particular.
Her
delivery remains unmatched and she inhabits the stage with a comfortable
confidence that keeps the focus on the material. She doesn’t shy away from
telling a story or two or offering a knowing comment but she doesn’t use
much time up with such non-musical elements. There are probably 90 minutes
of singing in the 100 minutes between the moment she starts singing unseen
behind the curtain until she takes her final bow. Her demeanor is marked by
an open honesty including acknowledging errors such as when she forgets a
lyric - she even had a stage hand bring her the sheet music for one song.
Once
again she is backed by her long-time music director, Wally Harper on piano
and the precise rhythms and sensuous bowing of Jon Burr on bass. Harper
seemed at his best with the numbers that feature a gentle swing such as “I
Got The Sun In The Morning” and he has been accompanying her for so many
years that they work as a unit. Burr, whose bow work was a compelling aspect
of the Mostly Sondheim concert last year, gets less opportunity in that mode
in this new set but what he does for “Send In The Clowns” is subtly
spectacular. It is not a negative to point out that he also contributes
silence for those moments when Cook is delivering a particularly touching
quiet line or verse, he lets Harper support her alone, producing a focused
attention in the contrast to when he is either plucking or bowing. Then,
when he resumes, it defines the moments. Such are the elements of artistry.
Performers: Barbara
Cook, Wally Harper, Jon Burr. |
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February 4 – March 2, 2003
Stones in His Pockets |
Reviewed February 6
Running time 2
hours 30 minutes
Price range $25 - $70 |
These two actors work awfully hard all night long to get the slender story
and colorful characters over the footlights to the audience. The audience is
called upon to work hard as well, concentrating on each word and phrase to
catch meaning amidst thick brogue, and trying to figure out which of the
fifteen different characters they are portraying at any given time. There
are rewards for attentive “audiencing,” but perhaps not enough to make it
worth as much work as it is. There were more empty seats in the hall after
intermission than before – never a good sign.
Storyline: A big Hollywood movie company comes to a small village in County
Kerry on the west coast of Ireland where such classic films as John Wayne’s
The Quiet Man and David Lean’s Ryan’s Daughter captured the
glorious scenery. Two local lads get jobs as extras in the new movie being
filmed. Their experiences with the cast, crew and the other extras come to a
climax when another villager commits suicide on the next to last day of
filming by drowning himself in a lake. It is clear that he intended to drown
because he had filled his pockets with stones.
All
the parts are played by two actors, in this case Bronson Pinchot and Tim
Ruddy. When Marie Jones’ play had its first success it was in a tiny theater
in Belfast, Northern Ireland. That success
led to a run at the fringe festival in Edinburgh, Scotland which led to a London
engagement which led to a Broadway run. With each advance, the play found
itself in a larger theatre. But even on Broadway, it was only the 800-seat
Golden Theatre. Now, the national touring version may have stretched things
about as far as they can go with this engagement in the 1,100 seat
Eisenhower. This is a play that requires immediate connection between cast
and audience and it is stretched in this space.
Pinchot and Ruddy have differences and similarities. Both are strong
physical actors and both are blessed with flexible faces and bodies that
they can manipulate at will. But Pinchot’s approach leans more to mime and
physical humor while Ruddy concentrates more on postures and mannerisms. He
can switch from mincing in a gay stereotype for the
second-assistant-director to a pronounced limp for the oldest surviving
extra from The Quiet Man in a wink. Pinchot also switches characters
with ease, using a vest as a prop which becomes a towel or a scarf to help
him create the movie’s staring actress or the director.
Together they prance through the story at a brisk clip. The set is simply a
backdrop of a film strip showing clouds (the movie’s director is concerned
that the clouds aren’t Irish enough) and a lineup of empty shoes, a few pair
of which are donned during character switches. But the Irish brogue, when
filtered through their efforts to give different characters different
voices, makes following the dialogue a chore. That is complicated by the
absence of any costume changes other than slipping on an occasional jacket
or taking off the vest. It takes real effort to keep it all straight – an
effort not everyone in the hall found worth making.
Written by Marie Jones.
Directed by Hugh Borthwick. Design by Jack Kirwan. Cast: Bronson Pinchot,
Tim Ruddy. |
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December 17, 2002 – January 12, 2003
Tell Me On A Sunday |
Reviewed December 17
Running Time 1 hour 5 minutes
Price range $25 - $90 |
As if to compensate for something – duration? plot? characters? – everything
that is done in this one act, one performer, one story musical is over done.
Well, everything except one thing -- casting Alice Ripley as the English
girl come to New York to make her fame and fortune and sample American men
was a wise choice. She’s got all the talent and stage presence, not to
mention the vocal chops, to pull this off.
Storyline: Emma, an English girl with ambitions as a high-fashion hat
designer, comes to New York seeking fame, fortune and romance. While waiting
for her "green card" she goes through a series of affairs, getting a taste
of life among the movers and shakers of Greenwich Village, Broadway, New
York’s Garment District and Hollywood. Some of the big moments of her
adventure are performed in song. But more of them are sung in letters home
to her "Mum" or revealed in conversations with her best friend "Viv."
Originally written as a song-cycle for a television special for British
singer/actress Marti Webb and then adapted for the stage for Bernadette
Peters, this musical by Andrew Lloyd Webber presents a real challenge for a
singing actress. Alice Ripley, who has been so impressive, both on Broadway
(Side Show) and here at the Kennedy Center (Company), has all
the talents she needs to pull it off: a big belting voice when called for, a
warm way with a ballad and a delicate, almost conversational touch for the
narrative set to music. She acts every one of the fifteen numbers with
flair, considerable humor and a touch of wistful romanticism. The trouble
comes when these numbers have to compete with so many distractions.
Director Marcia Milgrom Dodge has Ripley jump from down stage to up, from
stage right to stage left, up steps and through openings in the moving
panels while set pieces slide on and off at a relentless pace. The show
calls for multiple quick costume changes but costume designer Robert Guy
seems not to have paid attention to how each is accomplished in front of the
audience. One particularly distracting change early in the show finds Ripley
struggling with skirt and bra under a nightgown while gamely trying to sell
a lyric. Edward Pierce designed a handsome set featuring a striking
silhouette background but his follow-spots bounce off the shiny floor onto
screen behind the cutouts, conflicting with the lighting effect. Steve
Marzullo’s small orchestra is placed off stage with its music delivered
through the sound system, giving the entire presentation the artificial
sound of a recording instead of the excitement of a live performance. That
system isn’t able to cope with Ripley’s dynamic range, distorting her louder
notes, at least as heard from seats just under the lip of the balcony where
the reinforcement speakers are placed.
Dodge brings the hyperactivity to a halt twice and both times it is to
highlight a strong song. Indeed, "Unexpected Song" and the title number are
the two strongest pieces in the score and each gets a minute or two in its
own limelight, helped by a pause in all the hyperkinetic trappings, almost
as if a switch had been thrown. When Ripley begins "I have never felt like
this" there is a hush emanating from the stage that can be felt, not just
heard, all the way to the back wall. Her plea to have the bad news of the
end of a relationship broken in a park on a Sunday and not on the phone in
the middle of the night, the entire audience feels her pain. In those
moments, the show soars.
Music by Andrew Lloyd Webber. Lyrics by Don Black. Adapted with
additional lyrics by Richard Maltby, Jr. Directed by Marcia Milgrom Dodge.
Music direction by Steve Marzullo. Orchestrations by Daryl Waters. Design:
Edward Pierce (set and lights) Robert Guy (costumes) Kurt Eric Fischer
(sound). Cast: Alice Ripley. |
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February 26 – March 24, 2002
Copenhagen |
Reviewed February 28
Running time 2 hours 30 minutes |
"Austere" is such a strange word to describe an evening with so much weight
to it, so much heft, such depth and such emotion. But one dictionary
definition of "austere" is "severely plain in design or lines, without
distractions or decoration" and that perfectly describes the evening. It
sets out to explore a mystery of history, not a whodunit of fiction. It does
so with a vengeance. No diversions, no distractions, no subplots. The
fabulous thing about it, however, is that it satisfyingly never solves the
mystery. Instead, it explores it from every side, suggest many solutions and
weighs them all. In the end, it is the question rather than the answer that
is importantStoryline: In 1942 two great
physicists, long-time friends and colleagues, met privately in Copenhagen.
One was active in the German effort to develop a nuclear bomb. The other was
soon to become active in the Manhattan Project to develop a nuclear bomb.
What did they talk about? Why did they meet? In Copenhagen playwright
Michael Frayn explores many answers to these questions by having the two,
joined by one’s wife, share their own memories not only of the meeting but
of their careers and relationships before, during and after the war.
Frayan, previously best known as the author of the
nonsense farce Noises Off, brings his skill at theatrical structure
to the unusual theme. Actually, there are multiple themes, all
interconnected and all relevant to the question of what happened that fall
day in 1942. What is the role of the scientist in moral issues? Can the
pursuit of scientific truth ignore the consequences of discovery? Does the
bond of friendship between colleagues transcend external loyalties? He views
it all through the triple prism of memory – three different memories, each
imperfect but each willing to try to recall and to re-assess in the light of
each new revelation.
With three distinctly drawn characters, the play demands
three bravura performances and it gets them from these marvelous actors. Len
Cariou is Niels Bohr, the physicist who first explained the process of
nuclear fission, who shortly after the meeting in Copenhagen, escaped the
Nazis and joined the Los Alamos team working on the atomic bomb. Mariette
Hartley is his wife, a keen observer of events and of human nature who keeps
their exploration of memory true to known facts. Hank Stratton is Werner
Heisenberg, the physicist who won the Nobel Prize for stating the
uncertainty principal and whose role in the Nazi effort to develop the bomb
is at issue in the play. The three are like a three element atom, circling
each other verbally and physically in the grip of an intellectual attraction
but separated by a force which is alternately the difference of memory and
the difference of history. Among the conundrums explored is the emotionally
charged issue of the use of the bomb – did Bohr have any guilt over the
deaths of thousands in Hiroshima and Nagasaki? Was Heisenberg less guilty
because the German bomb effort did not succeed in time to destroy London?
The drama takes place on Peter J. Davison’s structure that
is as intellectually interesting as the play itself. A circular discussion
pit surrounded by raised ranks of observers (part of the audience seated on
the stage.) It suggests everything from a surgery arena to a combat pit for
gladiators to an atom while allowing the three actors to circle, stride,
stroll and, ultimately, orbit each other. Director Michael Blakemore never
lets them stay in any one spot for long as the one thing the evening doesn’t
have is a static moment.
Written by Michael Frayn. Directed by Michael
Blakemore. Design: Peter J. Davison (set and costumes) Mark Henderson and
Michael Lincoln (lights) Tony Meola (sound). Cast: Len Carious, Mariette
Hartley, Hank Stratton. |
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December 11, 2001 – January 6, 2002
Dirty Blond |
Reviewed December 13
Running time 1 hour 55 minutes |
The secret of the success of this very
successful endeavor is that it is much more than just a bio-play about a
fascinating person from our cultural past. Claudia Shear, who could well
have succeeded in a one-woman recreation of "An Evening With Mae West" along
the lines of Hal Holbrook in Mark Twain Tonight or James Whitmore in
Will Rogers’ USA, instead has written and performs in a satisfyingly
complex play that also happens to cover the story of the blond sex goddess
best known for her snappy one-liners.Storyline: Two people with a fascination for Mae West meet and develop a relationship
by sharing their knowledge of the star and exploring her history. One, a
West look-alike, takes on the part of West in reenactments of key events in
the star’s life. The other, a man who knew West briefly, takes on the roles
of the "others" in those events. They grow together by sharing their
obsession.
Shear was nominated for two Tony Awards for Dirty Blond, one for
writing the play and one for her performance in it. (There was also a Tony
nomination for the show’s director, James Lapine.) Shear performs it again
as the show continues its success in a national tour. Her performance is
bold, broad and at times funny, as you would expect with West as part of the
subject. But it is also sensitive and quite sympathetic. Ultimately, Shear
creates a Mae West who is a very human victim of her own invention, and the
fan that Shear plays becomes almost as much a victim of her fascination.
Shear leaves it with an open possibility that the fan goes on with her life
after coming to grips with her obsession.
While Shear repeats her Broadway performance, Tom Riis Farrell joins the
company in the role of the other obsessed fan and "others." He brings a
tenderness to the show that takes a bit of the edge off what could have been
a very harsh view of West. Also on board is Bob Stillman who was the third
member of the cast on Broadway and who was also nominated for a Tony Award. He provides a solid support for Shear and
Farrell, keeping the show from seeming too small and opening it up when
needed.
Staged on the same memorable set that Douglas Stein designed for the
original – a forced-perspective cube open at the back to a wide range of
changing locales from a theater curtain to various window views – and
featuring the same inventive lighting by David Lander who created exteriors,
rooms, and cab interiors through his effects, this is very much the show
that was so successful on Broadway.
Written by Claudia Shear. Conceived by Claudia Sear and James Lapine.
Directed by James Lapine. Design: Douglas Stein (set) David Lander (lights)
Susan Hilferty (costumes) Dan Moses Schreier (sound.) Cast: Claudia Shear,
Tom Riis Farrell, Bob Stillman. |
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November 6 - December 2, 2001
The Island |
Reviewed November 8
Running time 1 hour 35 minutes |
Sure, this is a chance to actually see an important slice of history in the
flesh. But the best reason to attend The Island is its theatrical values,
not its historical ones. John Kani and Winston Ntshona perform the
two-person, one-act play they created with Athol Fugard in South Africa in
the 1970s.
Storyline: Two prisoners share a cell in the prison on South Africa’s
Robben Island. They also share a work area in this hard labor camp. They
prepare a scene from Antigone, in part to have something on which to focus.
Their relationship is strained when one gets word that his sentence has been
shortened and he only has three months left to serve while the other
contemplates serving his life sentence without even the companionship he has
come to rely on.
For a play famous for its relationship to the infamous regime of apartheid,
The Island is surprisingly free from South Africa specific polemics and
marvelously rich in universal insights. This really could be any prison in
any country and the prisoner’s could be confined for any reasons, not simply
for reprehensible ones.
Kani and Ntshona were able to protect this work from the South African
authorities who wanted to confiscate it by committing it to memory.
Performing it now, thirty years later, it is an organic part of their being
and the reality of their creation emerges not only from their minds but from
their entire beings. The opening sequence, in which the two prisoners
perform meaningless hard labor, is a wordless exercise that is as crystal
clear in its meaning as any spoken dialogue.
The simple staging is just right given that the prisoner’s world is so
confined a space. The roughly eight foot square platform that is their cell
contains only two blankets and a water pail. It sits in a blank pool of
light in the center of the Eisenhower’s large stage with no backdrop. For
these men, there is no outside world and they only leave their cell for the
hard labor that is their lot.
Kani and Ntshona were jointly awarded the Tony for best actor when this play
opened on Broadway in 1974. |
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