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Studio Theatre Secondstage - ARCHIVE
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February 13 - March 30, 2008
All That I Will Ever Be
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway
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Running time 2:00 - one
intermission
Homo-erotic play goes from exhibition to engrossing
v
nudity
Click here to buy the script
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In the early going - indeed, for most of the first act - this story of a gay
prostitute who falls for one of his johns feels like a peep show. With full,
even excessive nudity and simulated sex (at least one assumes it is
simulated) the exhibitionism threatens to defeat both the drama and the
humor that Alan Ball, creator of HBO's Six Feet Under, placed in the
script. Its not that the script doesn't call for such open display of male
bodies and functions. Its all there in the text. But the same text could be
staged with a bit less abandon without doing a disservice to the play. The
play would feel false without nudity, but there are gradations in
presentation that could have allowed the audience a less visceral and more
emotional involvement in the story at an earlier point. By the end of the
first act, however, the world Serge Seiden has his cast creating for Ball's
script has hit a stride. The second act proves to have two of the most
affecting scenes of the play, and with the best one-scene supporting
performance of the night, the impact of the play is fully engrossing and
satisfying.
Storyline: A male prostitute, so used to role playing for his mostly male
clientele that he looses his identity in the roles, falls for a disturbed
young male client with emotional problems that complicate an already very
complicated life.
Alan Ball created more
than Six Feet Under. His credits range from television to movies to
the legitimate stage. He wrote for the Cybill Shepherd TV series Cybill
which gave him the material for
American Beauty, the screenplay that earned him an Oscar. This latest of his plays is set in the underworld of
Hollywood and includes some of the requisite swipes at the immorality and
self-centered hedonism of the entertainment business, drawing the sometimes
threadbare comparison to prostitution.
Carlos Candelario can be mesmerizing in his
chameleon-like performance as the prostitute who is something different to
everyone he deals with, whether customer or acquaintance (although all of
his acquaintances seem to be customers in one sense or another). The fact
that his ethnicity isn't easy to determine helps us accept the concept that
he could claim different backgrounds to fit the needs of different clients.
His sleek body and sense of physicality work as well as his capacity for a
quick throw-away line or a dramatic zinger. As the client he comes to love,
Parker Dixon takes the opposite tack, stressing the stressed out, physically
the worse for wear image of a drug abusing, self-loathing but
all-too-wealthy son of a rich man. The contrast between the two is striking.
The string of supporting performers is impressive, as is almost always the
case at Studio on either its main stages or the Secondstage productions here
on the fourth floor. Chief among them this time is Richard Mancini who only
gets about five minutes on stage but they are the five best minutes of the
evening.
Luciana Stecconi's low platform set is placed in the
center of Studio's black box Stage 4 with three-row risers on each side,
giving a sense of intimacy and immediacy to the proceedings. Too intimate at
times. Had the platform been a foot or two higher, the hot tub it opens to
reveal could have been a foot or two deeper and the genitals of the actors
could have been at least submerged a little for a scene that could well have
benefited from an audience's concentration on the dialogue. Once the hot tub
is covered back up, the language again takes center stage and the play
proceeds to its final two marvelous scenes.
Written by Alan Ball. Directed by Serge Seiden.
Design: Luciana Stecconi (set) Ana Marie A. Salamat (costumes) John Burkland
(lights) Erik Trester (sound) Matt Goldenberg (photography) Solomon
HaileSelassie (stage manager). Cast: John Kevin Boggs, McKenzie Bowling,
Carlos Candelario, Chris Dinolfo, Parker Dixon, Leayne Freeman, Danny
Gavigan, Richared Mancini, Steve Nixon. |
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December 12, 2007 - January 20, 2008
Breath, Boom!
Reviewed by
David Siegel |
Running Time 1:45 with one
intermission
t A Potomac
Stages Pick for a
potent look at urban gang life
for one young woman
v
mature uncompromising language and violence
Click here to buy the script |
Here is an impressive account of the harsh urban life of one young woman
where living requires attitude and bravado to survive pain and where adults
are disappointments. Grim and rough as it may be, it would be unwise to
overlook this Studio Theatre Secondstage production. After so many decades
of plays, movies and television programs depicting male aggression and
cruelty, Breath Boom! is a razor sharp, bomb throwing drama about
growing up on mean streets with a viewpoint rarely seen on stage. Young
women here are not objects of male fantasy or sexual figurines to be owned
and used. These are young women who are forceful, fierce and ice cold in
their own right. They too can cut, maim and kill; all skills they believe
are needed to survive through their expected short lives. Turning away from
the intensity of the action and the street vehemence of language will be
your loss. Under Rahaleh Nassri’s assured direction, Kia Corthron's
Breath Boom! is controlled chaos with an unexpected coda of family
devotion at the final black-out. Roxi Trapp Dukes Victorian as Prix, the
girl gang leader we first meet at age 16, is a rocket of energy and sullen
attitude. If you prefer the tamer, sweeter things in life then skip this.
But for those more adventuresome souls, Breath Boom! is a well
accomplished production with a fresh story to tell and a fresh cast to grip
you.
Storyline: A brutal look at fourteen years in
the life of a pyrotechnics connoisseur and quietly ruthless ice-cold 16
year-old leader of a New York City girl gang through her life in the
projects, prison, and finally her own brutal loss of power at the age of 30.
Kia Corthron must be
admired for the mettle to develop the dazzling and unforgiving agit-prop
that is Breath Boom! This is not a simple-minded piece of radical
screeds and liberal angst with speeches designed to make an obligatory
political point to a willing audience. Rather there are rich, complicated
characters; none of whom gets off free from either their own cruel actions
or crueler inactions. There is growth and change in the characters, at least
those that survive the fourteen year time span of the play. Corthron is wise
enough to not to make this a play without any respite. She has written rich,
lyrical poetry masquerading as dialogue that, when spoken by Prix, is simply
stunning … and more so since it describes the design of various fireworks
displays that Prix dreams of accomplishing as her mark on life. Corthron has
not overcrowded Breath Boom! with too much to follow. The play is
effective because an audience will not lose its way into the hard life of
the characters.
Turning a play about young
women living without love, without hope, without caring parents and without
boundary-respecting adult males into a theatrical work that audiences would
want to see has been the task of director Nassri. Her casting is the key to
the play’s ultimate success. She has assembled a very effective young cast
that has the audience believing the words spoken and the actions taken; even
if it is a head pounded all-to-visibly into a chain link fence, or a girl
quietly going about her business tying a noose out of bed sheets and then
told to “just do it!” As Prix, Victorian is compelling, a brooding presence
whose face contorts into forceful authority that she uses to lord over her
minions. There is no compassion in Victorian’s portrayal; compassion is
weakness and weakness leads to powerlessness. She can summon coarse, surly
expressions and mannerism from nowhere and the next moment be painstakingly
quiet as she fiddles with colorful pipe cleaners trying to develop the
design for a fire works display. The young ensemble provides a number of
graphic performances. Ashley Ware meticulously and matter-of-factly
describes the plans for her funeral as if it were to be the high point of
her short life. Juliana Edeke thumbs through a scrapbook almost blithely
counting off all her old friends and family who are dead. Lanett Proctor, as
the last gang leader in the 14 year chain of events, is one fuming
young lady and Monique Page, as Prix’s mother, shows the pain that life has
brought her. Theodore M. Snead is the one male figure
visible in the play, a ghostly apparition for most of his time on stage, but
ultimately a most incensed presence with gnashing teeth and grinding hips to
explain his part in Prix’s unhappy life.
Studio's Stage 4 is turned
into an urban school yard with chain link fences between the audience and
the set to start. Then as if by magic, the chain link fences are moved time
and time again to make prison cells, prison waiting rooms, a tenement roof
top and a seedy room. All is set to scene-changing hip hop music and the
sounds of police sirens. The lighting is as sullen as Prix, except for the
few bursts of light and cold warmth from the distant fireworks.
Written by Kia Corthron.
Directed by Rahaleh Nassri. Fight Choreography by Joel David Santer. Design:
Eric Van Wyk (set) Brandee Mathies (costumes) Harold F. Burgess (lights)
Erik Trester (sound), BettyAnn Leesberg-Lange (vocal coach). Cast:
Shannon Dorsey, Nicki Gonzales, Tiffany Jillian Green, Tonya Upshur
Hartwell, Stefanee Martin, Monique Paige, Lanett Proctor, Natasha
Rothwell, Theodore M. Sneed, Roxi Trapp Dukes Victorian, Ashley Ware, Abby
Wood. |
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July 11 - August 19, 2007
Reefer Madness
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 2:00 - one
intermission
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for a spirited parody of a
1936 anti-marijuana propaganda film
Click here to buy the movie |
When you only have one gag to pull, pull it with all the panache, style,
energy and commitment that you can muster. The gag here is "look how
gullible our forefathers were when it came to the specter of illicit
marijuana!" An actual 1936 anti-marijuana propaganda film
is their vehicle. It was re-edited and re-issued in
1938 as a vehicle for titillation masquerading as civic improvement. Now it
is is given a wild musical parody by
Kevin Murphy and Dan Studney. The company which did such a smashing job on
Batboy the Musical
but blew the effort to duplicate the fun of that production with
The Who's Tommy
has returned to the formula that worked so well with Batboy - tremendously
talented performers let loose on outrageous silliness filled with
opportunities for big laughs and big numbers. While the single gag does get
a bit shopworn before it is all over, you simply can't resist the charm and
energy of Andrew Sonntag, Lauren Williams and Channez McQuay or the earnest
believability of Lawrence Redmond. If you do escape their grasp for a
moment, there's always Bobby Smith to capture you during the lull ...
especially when he warbles "Don't let the reefer get your keester - I'm the
poster boy for Easter" in his brief appearance as Jesus.
Storyline: A lecturer traces the decline into degradation and decrepitude
of a prototypically all-American teenage couple after a horrid pimp/pusher
manages to get the high school baseball star to take just one drag off a
demon reefer in the 1930s when Shirley Temple ruled the silver screen and
the popular word for cannabis was spelled "marihuana" and not "marijuana."
Studney and Murphy's musical, obviously influenced by
Little Shop of Horrors' success at musicalizing a less-than super
movie, opened Off-Broadway in 2002 and Murphy was nominated for a Drama Desk
Award for his lyrics. The score serves the gag well and has solos for most
of the main characters that give them their moment in the spotlight. A movie
version was released in 2005 with Alan Cumming in the role that Lawrence
Redmond plays so very well here. We've included a link to purchase the movie
version of the show rather than the disc. The off-broadway production of the
show had a very brief run and wasn't recorded, but the Los Angeles
production was a hit and a recording of that cast is available. Its price,
however, seems so outlandish we didn't bother with a link - if you really
want to pay $249 for the disc, contact us and we'll give you the reference.
Redmond is fabulously earnest as the lecturer who
seems to genuinely believe each and every inflated claim about the danger of
the evil weed he's heard from the head of the Federal Bureau of Narcotics or
read in "the fine papers of William Hearst." Lauren Williams who has made a
habit of chipper pertness in everything from Signature's
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum
to Studio Secondstage's
Dog Sees God gets
to cross over to the evil side for a brief time and she seems to relish the
ravishing. Andrew Sonntag matches her in the transition from clean cut to
down and out. Bobby Smith is great fun at moments even if he seems to turn it
on only when he has a big moment coming up. Channez McQuay, on the other
hand, is simply superb throughout as the thug's moll. Ryan Murvin hits a few
highs as a youth already well down the rode to destruction, and "The
Youth of America," the young dancing/singing chorus of seven spice things up
from time to time with the simple but effective steps devised by Matthew
Gardiner, although they show signs of needing more rehearsal time to master
the routines.
Giorgos Tsappas provides an extremely functional set
with a few good gags of its own and Yvette M. Ryan's costumes are true to
both the time of the period and the spirit of the show. Her angel costumes
for Smith's winged chorus as he sings "Listen to Jesus, Jimmy" are a
delight. Jason Cowperthwaite tries for lighting effects that seem a bit too
complicated for the system and its operators. Who knows where Erik Trester
came up with all the fabulous films projected on the center screen. A
mixture of short subjects, trailers and newsreels from the time period of
the story (including Shirley Temple and her dimples in the trailer for
1936's Captain January) entertains before the show begins. During
intermission there is a truly amazing combination live action/cartoon,
I'll Be Glad When You're Dead, You Rascal You, featuring Betty Boop and
Louis Armstrong in a mind bogglingly racist short that would draw protest
pickets today but was accepted entertainment in 1932. These could well have
been projected on the screen without cropping the edges so severely. As it
is, "Hop Along Cassidy" comes across as "op Along Cassid." Michael Todd
serves up the poster messages called for in the script including the classic
"Reefer Will Make You Giggle for No Good Reason." Even without a reefer,
this show will give you good reason to giggle.
Music by Dan Studney. Lyrics by Kevin Murphy. Book by
Kevin Murphy and Dan Studney loosely based on and satirizing the screenplay of Tell Your Children by Arthur Hoerl. Directed by Keith Alan Baker.
Choreographed by Matthew Gardiner. Musical direction by Gabe Mangiante.
Design: Giorgos Tsappas (set) Yvette Ryan (costumes) Jason Cowperthwaite
(lights) Erik Trester (projections and sound) Michael Todd (video title
designs) Miriam Yoder (stage manager). Cast: Kate Arnold, Mark Chandler,
Zack Colonna, Emily Levey, Channez McQuay, Michael Mejia, Ryan Murvin,
Lawrence Redmond, Marge Seibert, Andrew Sonntag, Bobby Smith, Joseph Thanner,
Lauren Williams, Rachel Zempelli. Musicians: Brad Linde or James Guffey,
Douglas Maiwurm, Gabe Mangiante, Robin Rhodes. |
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December 6 - 31, 2006
tempOdyssey
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway
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Running time 2:00 - one intermission
A contemporary fantasy of alienation in
the workplace and family |
What is a "rolling premiere?" Studio says it is a year-long process where a
new play is produced at not one, not two but, in this case, four different
theaters around the country in a single season - each being treated as a
"premiere." tempOdessy, Dan Dietz' dark comedy that attempts to elevate the drudgery of temp work to epic status
had its first "premiere" last month at the Curious Theatre in Denver. Next
February it will be opening in Phoenix and later on in New Jersey. Each is a
different production with a different cast under a different director. Right
now, however, the only place you can catch this quirky exercise in excess is
on the fourth floor of Studio Theatre's home on 14th Street, NW. It's worth a
visit, but one hopes that the author will take the lessons to be learned
from all four productions to heart and treat the current script as a draft -
it needs major pruning and focusing to highlight the nuggets of humanity and
humor at its core.
Storyline: Genny's one day as a temp at a company that makes bombs goes from bad to worse, or is that to worst? "Last Day Girl" is supposed to
see to her training but she sees to her tormenting instead. "Nepotism Guy"
is supposed to supervise her but he's more concerned over making sure she
doesn't break anything so he won't have to handle the paperwork of a
requisition for a replacement pencil. Most off, "Dead Body Guy" puts the
moves on her, takes her under his wing and then suffers the consequences.
After a fairly lengthy and somehow superfluous
voice-over introduction, the day of a temporary worker gets underway with
great energy. Dietz merges a facility for short, declarative observations
with an imaginative use of space. A discussion of black holes yields
an elegant definition "where nothing meets infinity" which is illustrated
with a zero and an infinity sign in a cleverly devised projection on Misha
Kachman's imaginative set. Monologues are staged in elevator cars, the only
place where workers may actually have a bit of privacy. Crises come over
mundane elements of temporary work (how do you answer the phone when no one
has told you the name of the company?). Deitz soon reveals that his heroine's
insecurity goes way back to childhood when she learned to strangle chickens
on her father's chicken ranch, and that her facility for causing death has
blossomed - not a good thing for a person working for a company that makes
bombs. The play has about one and a half concepts more than a single evening
can effectively use, however, and confusion sets in quite early, leaving the
audience enjoying the performances more than the material.
The performances are from a cast that brings a sharp
intelligence to the project, highlight the strengths of their material and
do their best to keep the weaknesses from doing too much damage. Mary Beth
Fritzky is a marvelously inventive comic actress who can show the angst
underneath an insecure surface (as witness her performances in
3/4 of a Mass for St.
Vivian this summer at the Theater Alliance). She uses all of her
skills here, getting every laugh that won't damage the flow of the story and
giving thoughtful support to her colleagues for their comic moments as well.
Those colleagues include Evan Casey, who is tremendously entertaining as the
"Dead Body Guy" (his rolling head bit after a supposedly broken neck is
great!) and Kevin Boggs, who returns the compliment by giving Fritzky solid comic
support in her scenes with him as her father.
Kachman's set features Sallvador Dali-like touches
like a wall of file drawers that goes on into infinity, cubicle partitions
that are catawampus and tree limbs from Genny's memory emerging from the
walls. It is matched by Debra Kim Sivigny's clever costumes including a
bumpkin's plaid jacket festooned with chicken feathers for Boggs and a grey
dress and purple sweater that Genny wears which morphs from adult work
clothes to an childhood outfit for a dream sequence. John Burkland's tight
lighting design uses focused lights to create places such as the elevator
car. This makes it important for the cast to hit their marks in order to be
in the space of the scene. As the run continues, the cast will no doubt do a
better job of hitting the marks. The sound design of William Burns
includes a number of ambient sounds that work well, especially the elevator
sounds, but the megaphone effect for the finale either malfunctioned on the
night we saw the show or has an intentional unexplained intermittence.
Written by Dan Dietz. Directed by Christopher
Gallu. Design: Misha Kachman (set) Debra Kim Sivigny (costumes) John
Burkland (lights) William Burns (sound) Lacey Talero (stage manager). Cast:
Kevin Boggs, Evan Casey, Misty Demory, Marybeth Fritzky, Cameron McNary.
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October 18 - November 12, 2006
Crestfall
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 1:30 - no intermission
A well acted and written story with truly disgusting subject matter
v
Includes some strongly sexual material
Click here to buy the script |
There are times when, as a reviewer, I have to render a judgment on
something so beyond the bounds of my own personal tastes in theater but so
patently well done that I am reduced to writing what we at Potomac Stages
call a "if you like this kind of thing, you'll like this" review. In this
case, however, it seems more appropriate to write "if you like this kind of
thing, seek professional help." Yes, the acting is tremendous. Yes, the
structure is highly theatrical and efficient. Yes, the direction is sharp,
clear and intelligent. Then, too, the playwright's command of language and
eye for detail is superb, even if it is overly self conscious in the way
only Irish poet playwrights seem to be these days. But what a sad, sordid
and ugly story he has chosen to tell in such savage language! Subjugation,
bestial rape and not just infanticide but glorification in infanticide are
just a few of the atrocities discussed, described or relived in a painful
ninety minutes.
Storyline: In three free-standing but inter-connected monologues three
women of different ages and position describe their lives in a world
dominated by male drives - and the men in that world don't have any decent
drives.
Mark O'Rowe is best known to Potomac
Region audiences for
Howie the Rookie, a two-monologue play which Dan Brick and Eric
Messner brought to disturbing life for Solas Nua last winter at the
Warehouse. As a master of morbid he's quite impressive, but with each play
he seems to descend farther and farther into a world this reviewer would
rather not visit. Others have chimed in with descriptions of the play and
the playwright that match my reactions: "a dramatic poet of stomach-churning
power" (Joyce McMillan, The Scotsman,") "Increasingly
bizarre awfulness" (Thelma
Good, Edinburgh Guide) but the best and most
concise was the writer of the Washington Post's headline for Peter Marks'
review: "Beautiful Words for an Ugly World." That says it.
Joy Zinoman directs Jennifer Mendenhall, Kimberly Schraf and Mari Howells,
a trio of distinction who do marvelous work with the material. Howells is
new to our region but sports impressive credentials from New York and
international companies. Schraf just completed a stint right here at Studio
Secondstage in Frozen,
and Mendenhall Is well known for her work at Olney, Theater J and Woolly
Mammoth. Indeed, Mendenhall is appearing in more appealing material right
now at the Kennedy Center in Mark Russell's family-friendly musical
Teddy Roosevelt and the Treasure of Ursa
Major.
The entire piece is played out on a patch of floor
between two ranks of audience seats on risers. As a result, half of the
audience is watching the other half watch the ugliness which transpires. It
emphasizes that, at least in O'Rowe's world, there's no place to hide.
Written by Mark O'Rowe. Directed by Joy Zinoman.
Design: Luciana Stecconi (set) Brandee Mathies (costumes) Gil Thompson
(lights and sound) Carol Pratt (photography) Elizabeth Zuses (stage
manager). Cast: Mari Howells, Jennifer Mendenhall, Kimberly Schraf.
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July 12 - August 13, 2006
Dog Sees God |
Running time 1:40 - no intermission
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for a clever unauthorized
parody of everything Snoopy |
Snoopy! The Musical is cute. You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown is
sweet. Dog Sees God is cool - and a bit rough. But, then, the first
two are approved parts of the canon of the Charles Schultz creation
"Peanuts," while Dog Sees God carries the disclaimer "Dog Sees God
has not been authorized or approved in any manner by the Charles M. Schultz
Estate or United Feature Syndicate which have no responsibility for its
content." That sounds like it was written by an attorney, but the play is
clearly the product of a playwright: one who knows how to structure a show
as well as how to pull off a joke. He's Bert V. Royal, and he takes the basic
concept of looking at the familiar characters about a decade after the time
of the comic strip - at the peak of the hormonal angst of high school - and
constructs a satisfying one-act play out of it. None of Royal's characters
have the names of Schultz's creations - but "CB," "Beethoven" and the rest
are easily identified.
Storyline: "CB" writes his pen pal on the day his dog had to be put to
sleep. Seems the dog got rabies and ate the little yellow bird. Things
aren't going too well at school, either. The boy who plays the piano (now
known as "Beethoven" even though he plays Chopin on his keyboard) is having
his life made miserable because he's assumed to be homosexual even though he
says "I haven't had sex yet, so how would I know?" The boy who used to
attract all the flies and dust in the neighborhood is now a macho
clean-freak who is also a homophobe. The famous
security blanket has been ground up and smoked by its owner who will sniff
anything, and his sister has been institutionalized
after setting the little red headed girl's hair on fire, although she still
has a "The Doctor Is In" sign when CB comes to visit.
You were expecting more syrupy sweet kids stuff? Not from
Studio Secondstage! Artistic Director Keith Alan Baker selected this play
after successful runs at the New York Fringe Festival in 2004 and Off
Broadway in 2005-06. It had the potential to be a semi-sordid one-joke piece,
but Royal's skill at plotting and Baker's skill at pacing combine to keep it
fresh for most of the time. Then, too, the casting of a group of very
personable performers helped a great deal.
That cast is headed by James Manno, a young man with
charm and humor who gives CB a heart. Lauren Williams brings the energy
and chipper pertness that made her such a perfect Philia
in Signature's A
Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum to the role of his
sister who is the sole member of the drama club. James Gardiner is both
effective and affecting as the youngster driven to hiding out in the music
room with his keyboard by the ostracism that so wounds adolescents. Robert
Rector has the unenviable task of getting laughs in the role of a homophobic
bully, and he does about as well as could be expected.
The most fun, however, is Evan Casey as the pot-head we used to know as
Linus.
The short show is presented in the large, unfinished
space on the fourth floor above the Metheny Theatre in Studio's new
facility. Giorgos Tsappas uses more floor space for the set than is taken up
by the audience risers. Still, the episodic nature of the script (there are
twenty scenes plus a prologue and an epilogue in just 100 minutes - about
four and a half minutes a scene) and Baker's blocking keep the presentation
from seeming to swing from extreme stage right to extreme stage left. The
costumes by Yvette Ryan are colorful and take the originals so well known
from cartoons and shows as the jumping off point for more contemporary
designs. But, then, everything from script to performance to design takes
the original "Peanuts" creation as a jumping off point, and that is the fun
of the project.
Written by Bert V. Royal. Directed by Keith Alan
Baker. Movement choreography by Matthew Gardiner. Fight choreography by
Casey Kaleba. Design: Giorgos Tsappas (set) Yvette M. Ryan (costumes) Emily
Lagerquist (lights) Erik Trester (sound) Scott Suchman (photography) David
Dieudonne (stage manager). Cast: Regina Aquino, Evan Casey, Ryan Christie,
Catherine Deadman, James Gardiner, James Manno, Robert Rector, Lauren
Williams. |
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April 12 - June 18, 2006
Frozen |
Reviewed April 21
Re-reviewed May 14
2:15 - one intermission
t
A Potomac Stages pick for fabulous acting
Click here to buy the script |
Explorations of the depths of human depravity can never be pretty, and, even
if well done, shouldn't be pleasant. But when they are done as well as this
one is, they can be fascinating, absorbing and thought provoking. You can
admire the craft involved which here rises to the level of art.
Bryony Lavery's drama was a Tony Award nominee for best play of 2004 in a
production that featured a Tony-winning performance in one role and a Tony-nominated performance in another. Here, it seems not to have been given any
less impressive performances in these roles. When this production opened, Nancy Robinette and Andrew Long
were completely compelling in them, and Marybeth Wise was quite good in the
other role. Robinette had to leave the show when its run was extended
because she was slated to open in A Body of Water at the Round House, Silver
Spring. Kimberly Schraf took over the role for a time but Robinette has now
returned for the balance of the extended run. We returned to take a fresh
look at the show while Schraff had been in the role for a week, and found it
just as affecting and compelling as it had been, and, if anything, that
Andrew Long had gotten even stronger. The play remains as hard to watch as its subject matter would
indicate, but the intensity of the experience is the product of some
tremendous work that is to be admired.
Storyline: Three characters interact in a
series of monologues that evolve into dialogue scenes. There's the mother
of a 10 year old girl kidnapped, raped and murdered twenty years ago.
There's the serial killer who committed the crime. And there's the
psychiatrist studying the phenomenon of serial killing. Each is forced to
face aspects of their past that they had, at least thus far, been able to
push under the level of their conscious minds.
The structure of Lavery's play allows the
slow revelation of the details of each character's history. This works best
for the mother (first Robinette, then Schraf for a while) and the killer (Long) because in one instance the
mother's reluctance to face the horror is natural and the killer's inability
to feel remorse or even understand the extent of his evildoing is at the
essence of his nature. The details of the psychiatrist's troubles are less
central, and thus, seem a bit theatrical when revealed, but her character is
the connection between the other two.
The heart of the play - in more than one
meaning of the term -- comes in the one scene between the victim's mother and
the killer. As Robinette and Long played the scene, the mother's motivation and methods became apparent
so slowly and
subtly, and Long portrayed his character's reactions so naturally and
compellingly, that it took a while to absorb just what you have seen. What you saw was tremendous acting - that's what! When Schraf took over the
role, the persona of the mother changed but the level of skill and art
didn't. Schraf's take on the key scene was a bit less purposeful but no less honest and heart rending. Early in the scene she
seemed to cease breathing as this mother realized for the first time that she
is actually in the presence of the man who committed such a heinous crime --
it is a moment that seemed to hang in the air forever.
Who knows why this is a Secondstage offering?
Seconstage is studio's "developmental" company, which in their own words,
provides "emerging theatre artists with the opportunity to share their
talents." Some of the Secondstage productions have been in unconventional
spaces challenging new designers. Others have introduced new faces on stage.
Here it is three of the better known and reliable performers of the Potomac
Region directed by a Helen Hayes Award nominee (for a Secondstage
production, true - The
Intelligent Design of Jenny Chow). All of the designers are well
known in the region as well. This isn't so much a complaint as an
observation - after all, who should complain that the tickets are $25
instead of $32 - $52? Perhaps the developmental aspect is the experience
offered to the fourth member of the cast. There is a guard in the prison
scenes. He has no lines, but he has gestures and cues. He isn't listed in
the program and doesn't participate in the curtain call. Too bad, because he
does his job well and doesn't distract from the superb work going on about
him, so he deserves at least the pleasure of the sound of applause. (For the
record, he is Shawn Helm.)
Written by Bryony Lavery. Directed by David
Muse. Design: Milagros Ponce de Leon (set) Kathleen Geldard (costumes) John
Burkland (lights) Ryan Rumery (sound) Lewis Shaw (fight coach) Carol Pratt
(photography). Cast: Andrew Long,
Nancy Robinette (or Kimberly Schraf for
a few weeks), MaryBeth Wise. |
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January
11 - February 5, 2006
Autobahn |
Reviewed January 15
Running Time 1:35 - no intermission
Seven brief but troubling conversations in cars |
Is Neil LaBute mellowing just a bit? This collection of six playlets, all set in the front
seat of a car, is interesting, intriguing and covers a wide variety of
dilemmas of modern life which would make it prime LaBute. However, it lacks
some of the shock value we've come to expect of this contemporary author who
never seems to shy away from the dark side of life in the often impersonal,
urban, industrialized society of today. The topics are all still there, it
is the treatment that is a bit gentler. The wounds may have been just as
deep but the scars are somehow less scabrous. Still, the topics are
troubling, the dialogue sharp and succinct and these performances are fresh
and striking.
Storyline: Six playlets are set in the
front seat of cars, most of which are speeding along a highway. Each takes
advantage of the phenomenon that people are free to communicate without eye
contact when the driver is supposed to keep both eyes on the road.
From a husband probing for details of his wife's infidelity to a wife
looking for some possible explanation for her husband's abuse of their
foster child, the "eyes front" demands of tooling along the autobahn are the
mask behind which driver or passenger can hide while revealing more than
could have been bared in a face-to-face confrontation.
From the old standby, breaking up is hard to
do, to stronger interpersonal challenges like infidelity, abuse, sexual
misconduct and the like, LaBute takes up topics you would expect of him and
gives them the highly personal treatment that makes his material
distinctive. The key feature is the way he manages to insert personality
into dialogue with each character using his or her own vocabulary and
dropping references to things in his or her own background. Those references
never seem contrived or inserted just to give the audience background
information. They flow naturally from the thought process of the speaker.
Yet they do illuminate character and they give depth to even the shortest playlet. With
six topics and 15 characters in one ninety-five minute
performance, even a wrong note has precious little time to resonate, and
there are very few of them.
Each of the members of the cast of ten is
on stage for about a dozen minutes. This gives them the opportunity to
polish their individual performances to a high luster, and many of them take
advantage of it. Catch Jesse Terrill's reactions to Karen Novack's
revelations in Road Trip, or James Konicek's hesitant attempts to
probe for details from Vanessa Vaughn in Merge, to see the sheen that
can be applied to wordless moments. Scott Kerns captures the insecurity of
youth as he attempts to break up with Veronica Del Cerro in the opening
Bench Seat and its hard to decide which is giving a brighter
performance.
Director Erica Gould keeps things moving with
a stage full of chairs which the cast assembles in twos and threes to
represent car seats. There's a single steering wheel on a stand which is
moved into position for each of the different playlets. Colin K. Bills'
lighting design creates different pools of light to isolate the seats for
each and Erik Trester provides the audio to complete the image.
Written by Neil LaBute. Directed by Erica
Gould. Design: Colin K. Bills (set and lights) Kathleen Geldard (costumes)
Erik Trester (sound) Carol Pratt (photography) Sara Allen Griffin (stage
manager). Cast: Cecil E. Baldwin, Veronica del Cerro, Paloma Ellis, Scott
Kerns, James Konicek, Karen Novack, Elizabeth Richards, Darius Suziedelis,
Jesse Terrill, Vanessa Vaughn. |
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July 6 - August 14,
2005
The
Intelligent Design of Jenny Chow |
Reviewed July 10
Running time 2:10 - one intermission
t A Potomac
Stages Pick for enormously entertaining intellectual challenges |
The intelligent theatergoer should grab tickets to this relatively short run
of a bright new play by a new playwright with lots to say and a great way of
saying it. Playwright Rolin Jones subtitles the play "An Instant Message
with Excitable Music." The messages may not be revolutionary, or
particularly profound, but there's an underlying sense of morality and a
questioning of modern values that makes this comic romp something more than
light entertainment. Still, entertain it certainly does, and in this
handsome if slightly uneven production, a good time is had by all.
Storyline: A computer wiz suffers from compulsive obsessive disorder
perhaps as a response to having been abandoned as a baby in her native China
and adopted by a success addicted mother and her laid back husband. She
wants to find her birth parents but her condition keeps her from leaving the
safety of her home, so she builds an intelligent robot to travel around the
globe on her behalf. The birth family doesn't exactly welcome the mechanical
daughter-surrogate however.
As the
computer wiz Jennifer Marcus, Eunice Wong makes her Potomac Region premiere in an
outstanding performance that goes on from a slightly shrill beginning to
capture the imagination and the hearts of the audience with humor and a
touch of pathos. No such false start for James Flanagan as a neighborhood
boy who delivers pizza to Jenny's home. From his first entrance he is the
essence of the last gasp of innocence at the end of adolescence - a would-be
Peter Pan who seems to draw his fairy dust from a bong.
Mia Whang is the robot named Jenny Chow,
created by the computer wiz, and
she does a splendid job of becoming more intelligent and knowledgeable with
each experience - a vivid demonstration of artificial intelligence as her
computer brain absorbs facts, impressions and lessons at an incredible rate.
Charlotte Akin is appropriately hyper as the super-charged mom in America
and understated in a refreshingly unmannered single-scene appearance as the
Chinese birth-mother. David Rothman is touching as the father as well, but
Cameron McNary has a bit of difficulty pulling off multiple supporting roles
without seeming cartoonish.
Director David Muse may have selected an
excessively shrill opening level, but he has his cast quickly settling into
a very effective comedy romp mode. He also gets just a bit carried away a
few times using the nifty set by Blythe Quinlan, violating the geography of
the set when he has the computer wiz (who can't step outside her home) step
through doors which appear to be exterior doors. Such distractions are
exceptions and affect a very few minutes in these otherwise delightful two
hours.
Written by Rolin Jones. Directed by David
Muse. Design: Blythe Quinlan (set) Larry Baldine (scenic artist) Yvette M.
Ryan (costumes) Esther Van Eek (properties) John Burkland (lights) Daniel
Baker (sound) Matthew Suttor (composer). Cast: Charlotte Akin, James
Flanagan, Cameron McNary, David Rothman, Mia Whang, Eunice Wong. |
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June 1 - 26,
2005
Terrorism |
Reviewed June 5
Running time 1:40 - no intermission
Six interconnected scenes about security in the modern age |
The last offering of Secondstage to Studio's
season exploring Russian theatrical pieces is a new play by a pair of
brothers from Siberia whose work is always credited to them as a just "The Presnyakov Brothers." They are actually Oleg and Vladimir Presnyakov, sons
of an Iranian mother and a Russian father. Both men are in their thirties
and have taught together at their alma matter, the M. Gorky Urals State
University in Yekaterinburg. This, their latest play, premiered in Moscow
three years ago and has received a number of productions around the world,
including an American premiere last month in New York. This translation, by Sasha Dugdale, was first presented in London at the Royal Court Theatre
Upstairs, coincidentally as a follow up to a production of
Black Milk which, of course, also
preceded it here at Studio.
Storyline: A man's flight is cancelled due to a bomb scare at the airport.
He returns home to discover his wife tied up by her lover while at his
office the relaxation room for stressed out employees is being used for
suicide. These and other scenes add up to one seriously bad day for "the
man."
As much as the events of
September 11, 2001 weigh heavy on the minds of all American audiences, it
is hard to believe that this up-to-the-minute, slightly absurdist view of
modern paranoia was written before the attacks on the Pentagon and the Twin
Towers. Still, it captures some of the contemporary dichotomy that marks our
world at the moment. Its series of six scenes seems at first to be
unconnected, sort of a selection of short plays. The connections between
them develop slowly but inexorably, first as mere hints and finally as the
cumulative reasons behind the emotional breakdown of the central character.
That central character is "The Man." James
Konicek brings his distinctive voice and a facility for blending into
practically any scene to the part. He is at his best when playing the
"everyman" of the central character, but he is called upon as well to play a
colonel in a scene in a military locker room which descends into cheap
effects when he must deliver "Happy Birthday, Mr. President" in the style of
Marilyn Monroe. There are fine supporting performances by Marcia Churchill,
Rosemary Regan and Morgan Peter Brown as well.
The show starts at the unusually late hour of
8:30 including the Sunday evening performances which had earlier been
announced as starting an hour earlier. The performance space is
Secondstage's new space called "Stage 4" at Studio. It is up on the fourth
floor with windows opening into Studio's new atrium and out to the street.
Thus, in order to be dark enough for the lighting effects of the show to
work, the show needs the late start. The primary effect is a set of red
lights which, accompanied by alarm sirens, separate each of the scenes. The
set consists of sliding glass partitions and some wheeled industrial steel
structures serving as a bed, a table or even a teeter totter. The atmosphere
of the hard edge, contemporary urban environment is enhanced by a soundscape
that makes each of the locales feel unique.
Written by The Presnyakov Brothers.
Translated by Shasha Dugdale. Directed by Keith Alan Baker. Co-directed by
Amy Chouchoud. Violence
choreography by Scott Kerns. Design: Giorgos Tsappas (set) Kathleen Geldard
(costumes) Meaghan Toohey (properties) Colin K. Bills (lights) Erik Trester
(sound) Peter Seckler and Hey Kid Nice Robot (music) Tim Aldrich (stage manager). Cast: Kevin Boggs, Morgan Peter Brown,
Marcia Churchill, Catherine Deadman, John Geoffrion, James Konicek, Becky
Peters, Rosemary Regan, Tony Simione.
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January 19 - February 13,
2005
The Death of
Meyerhold |
Reviewed January 26
Running time 3:00 - two intermissions |
While their parent company downstairs continues its Russian Season, the
developmental wing of Studio inaugurates its own new space in the 14th
Street complex with a constantly invigorating, often striking and only
occasionally confounding production of an American play dealing with issues
of life and art in the early Soviet period in Russia. The theater on the top
floor of the new part of the complex (just above the new Metheny Theater
where Black Milk is currently playing)
is a spacious black box with plenty of height to accommodate nicely raked
risers with rows of comfortable folding chairs. The first production here is
auspicious both in the quality of the performance and in the selection of
material -- a fitting play to introduce a space to be devoted to the art of
theater.
Storyline: The career of Russian director
Vsevolod Meyerhold from his initial break with that other notable Russian
director Konstantin Stanislavski through to his falling out of favor in
Stalin's Soviet Union and his execution from crimes against the revolution
is told in a style suggestive of his own, then-revolutionary theories of
performance art.
It may take you a while to get used to the
rapid fire pace of the speech patterns of this cast as director Rick Simas
simulates the techniques Meyerhold himself advanced in the first quarter of
the twentieth century which were in many ways the opposite of the
naturalistic school of his early colleague and then rival, Konstantin
Stanislavsky. Meyerhold preferred a more mannered performance technique
utilizing what he called Bio-Mechanics to communicate emotion, intention and
action. While Simas wisely avoids overdoing the techniques which would
be too distracting to a modern audience unused to the grotesqueries of the
technique's wilder aspects, he gives us a feel for just how Meyerhold
differed from either Stanislavsky or the then-reigning traditional classical
performance practices.
In another nod toward Meyerhold's style, the
entire performance is played out on a multi-level wooden structure of steps
and platforms over, around and through which the cast scampers from scene to
scene. Meyerhold preferred multi-level abstract sets, thinking that they
allowed quick adjustment from one location to another without distracting
the audience with either representational or realistic set decoration or too
many props. Just as he tried to keep the focus on the action, so director
Simas centers the audience's attention on the quickly unfolding plot and the
relationships between the key characters.
Many of those characters are brought to life
for brief moments as the cast of twelve play thirty-five named characters
plus multiple members of ensemble scenes. Joel Reuben Ganz has to cover the
role of Lee Strasberg as an "other duties as assigned" moment even though he
spends the bulk of the evening as the main character, Meyerhold himself. A
string of fine characterizations come from Richard Henrich (Stanislavski),
Becky Peters (Stella Adler), Cecil E. Baldwin (Checkhov), John Townson
(Clifford Odets) and others including Scott Kerns as a a fabulously insecure
Shostakovich.
Written by Mark Jackson. Directed by Rick
Simas. Movement and choreography by Beth Wilmurt. Design: Robyn Shrater
Seemann (costumes) Katherine Osborne (properties) Erik Trester (projections)
Colin K. Bills (lights) Jake Rodriguez (sound) Scott Suchman (photography)
Kristen Bishel (stage manager). Cast: Cecil E. Baldwin, Anne Coventry, Katya
Falikova, Joel Reuben Ganz, Andrew Greenleaf, Richard Henrich, Scott Kerns,
Peter Klaus, Jason Lott, Becky Peters, Gregory Stuart, Jon Townson.
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July 14 – August 8, 2004
The Who’s Tommy |
Reviewed July 21
Running time 1:40 - one intermission
Performed in Studio's Milton Theater
Click here to buy the CD |
Second Stage's Keith Alan Baker stages The Who's rock opera as if it were
either a theatrical classic or Elton John and Tim Rice's
Aida - and it is
neither. The thrill of the earlier stagings of the piece that rocked
Woodstock (actually, only selections were performed on the rain soaked bog
in upstate New York) and went from concept album to movie to Broadway rested on the razzmatazz of a director's vision, the
fluidity of a choreographer's work and - most of all - the voices of capable
vocalists. Baker seems to want to demystify a myth,
treating the admittedly simplistic message of the original (that the
important thing about being a human being is to be human) rather
dismissively, while choreographer
Jeanne Feeney provides movement but not meaning, and the central
character's vocal skills are a mismatch for a rock score. The result is a
disappointingly bland production.
Storyline: Using all the material from the two-record album (back when
albums were on phonograph records), the stage version tells the story of a
boy put into a trauma-induced stupor by witnessing the cruelty of adults and
then brought out of that mental isolation by the stimulation of the bells,
lights, flashes and whistles of a pinball game.
The Who released their rock opera recording in
1969. Its combination of driving rhythms, distinctive guitar work, a few
plaintive lyrics and a simple but touching story captured the attention of a
generation of young people, who, a quarter of a century later, were thought to
be ready for a Broadway mounting of the piece. Partially on the strength of
the original work and even more importantly on the strength of the direction
of Des McAnuff, who worked with The Who's Pete Townshend to expand the story
to an evening's length, the show was a hit - running for over two years and
spawning a number of tours and local productions. The hit "See Me, Feel Me"
was the thread holding together the story and "Pinball Wizard" proved a
satisfying conclusion for Act I, while "Listening to You (I Get the Music)"
becomes an anthem for the finale of Act II.
The Tommy of this Tommy is Yuval Samburski who
moves about the stage in a fairly mechanical manner even when his character
is out of his trance, and whose voice never rises to the demands of the rock
material for bursts of emotion and volume to dominate the chorus. With Samburski's role requiring his presence on stage practically the entire time
of the of the short show (it runs about twenty minutes shorter than the
recent revival tour), Samburski's lack of energy seems to affect the entire
project. Only Jeffery Peterson seems to make the music rock, and he gets too
little stage time as Cousin Kevin to really make a difference. Maddy Wyatt
and Larry Baldine as Tommy's parents seem to be in a more conventional
modern musical (Blood Brothers perhaps?) than one based on a rock
classic.
None of this is helped by a sound system that,
either by design or by execution, disrupts the evening time and time again
with microphones turned on late (or not at all), choruses amplified at a
higher level than the soloists they are supposed to support and a strange
dominance of the bass line that hides some of the higher frequency guitar
work. It is never an easy thing to handle a fully miked musical on a thrust
stage in a small house - after all, the singers are sometimes downstage in
the midst of the audience and at others upstage by the band, and the side to
side distribution is very different for the audience members on the
different sides of the playing space. Here, with all the principals wearing
small microphone buds taped in place but the chorus sporting various boom
mikes, the sound system is constantly drawing attention away from the music
itself.
Music and lyrics by Pete Townshend. Book by
Pete Townshend and Des McAnuff. Additional music and lyrics by John Entwistle
and Keith Moon. Directed by Keith Alan Baker. Music Direction by Daniel
Sticco. Choreography by Jeanne Feeney. Design: Girgos Tsappas (set)
Franklin Labovitz (costumes) Jessica Noble (properties) Colin Bills (lights)
Bridget O'Connor (sound) Scott Suchman (photography) Lyndsay Stares (stage
manager). Cast: Larry Baldine, Justin Benoit, Nazia Chaudhry, Sara Jo Elice,
Michael Fizdale, Christopher Gallu, John D. Guzman, Rosanne Medina, Phillip
Olarte, Jeffery L. Peterson, Maya Lynne Robinson, Yuval Samburski, Karissa
Swanigan, Maddy Wyatt. Musicians: Yehoshua Fruchter, Shawn Galvin, Austin Gaughlin, Ken Hall, Daniel Sticco. |
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January 8 – February 1, 2004
Four |
Reviewed January 11
Running time 1 hour 40 minutes
Mature themes
Playing in Studio's Milton theater |
Young playwright Christopher Shinn (he’ll turn 30 next year) has an ear for
dialogue and uses it to create sharp portraits of distinctly different
characters. In this, his first play to be produced professionally, he
demonstrates that skill as four characters speak in four distinctly
different dialects of modern American every-day conversation. While the
summary would lead you to believe a lot takes place in the play, it is
mostly talk; fine, intriguing talk. There are two sexual encounters but no
nudity.
Storyline: On the Fourth of July a sixteen
year old boy meets up with a middle aged man for a date they arranged on an
internet chat room for gays. They go for a ride, to a movie and then to bed.
Simultaneously, a sixteen year old girl sneaks out of the house while her
sick mother is in bed so she can meet up with a boy who takes a break from
his drug running to take her to watch the fireworks and then to his bed. How
many of them were virgins as the night began is left open to interpretation.
Even
though the encounters are dramatic enough to be life-changing or at least
life-defining moments for each of the characters, there is no sense that any
one of them is different at the end of the evening than at the beginning.
This may, of course, be the author’s point. These are thin slices of these
lives placed on a specimen slide and held under a microscope for
examination. They don’t learn anything from the events but one supposes that
the audience is supposed to come away with an improved appreciation of what
some people will go through to have a bit of human contact. It is a lesson
pleasantly delivered but not driven home with much force.
Studio’s Secondstage gives this word play a classy production with style and
grace. Gregg Mitchell’s set is a number of platforms on a platform with
chain link background in front of a cyclorama that glows with Colin K.
Bills’ lighting effects leading up to the fireworks display that ties the
stories together. Director Kate Davis keeps the events moving about the
stage by having the cast members move chairs around - four chairs,
naturally.
The
four actors give four distinct voices to the delivery of the diverse
dialogue that marks the piece. David Lamont Wilson captures the touch of
superiority in the voice of the middle aged chicken hawk designed to cover
either guilt or fear of exposure while Scott Kerns uses an endearing
hesitation to communicate the teenager’s shyness and the depth of his
yearning. Maya Lynne Robinson tosses off the young girl’s sharply
intelligent lines with aplomb while Cesar A. Guadamuz is just right at some
of the drug dealer’s grasping for the right word.
Written by Christopher Shinn. Directed by Kate Davis. Design: Greg Mitchell
(set) LeVonne Lindsay (costumes) Jennifer Moss (properties) Colin K. Bills
(lights) Kevin Hill (sound) Scott Suchman (photography) Cassandra Domser
(stage manager). Cast: Cesar A. Guadamuz, Scott Kerns, Maya Lynne Robinson,
David Lamont Wilson. |
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July 17 - August 10, 2003
Polaroid
Stories |
Reviewed July 20
Running time 2 hours 5 minutes |
Like the photographs that inspired the author, this production is visually
dramatic, drawing the viewer into the world that the subjects inhabit. Those
subjects are inner-city street kids whose lives should trouble any viewer.
Director Keith Alan Baker pulls out many theatrical devices to try to get
beyond the surface impression but, like photographs, the glimpses into the
environment of these ten subjects tells a great deal about the moment but
very little about the history that would bring them to life as real people
with histories, memories, goals or dreams.
Storyline: In a series of short vignettes, each of ten street kids tell
their own stories and deal with each other’s presence and roles in their
lives. Each has a story or situation vaguely resembling the mythology of
ancient Greece and, while they use their modern names in the text, it isn’t
difficult to guess which is Narcissus kneeling before a water trough to see
his image or which is Dionysus bragging of his rank as a god. Not all
characters carry mythological names, however. A boy who flies too high on
drugs is called Skinhead Boy, not Icarus.
Studio Secondstage is working from a script by Naomi Iizuka that was
developed as a commission from En Garde Arts in New York and first produced
at the Humana Festival of New American Plays in Louisville. Her text is
sometimes pretentious and always profane, echoing the language of the
streets. Iizuka took as her inspiration the photo essay of street life in
the big city by Jim Goldberg titled “Raised by Wolves.” Carrying the conceit
of kids viewed through the myth of Romulus who was suckled by a she-wolf and
grew to found Rome, she casts the story in mythological terms but draws on
the real life experiences of street kids she interviewed for the project. It
is an intriguing concept but one that leaves the individual characters
devoid of that essential ingredient for satisfying theater -- character
development.
There
are a number of fine performances including those of Cesar A. Guadamuz as
the Narcissus character so enraptured by his own appearance, Scott Kerns as
the Skinhead Boy who rips off Dionysus for multiple highs and Elizabeth H.
Richards as both Persephone and Semele. Mayo Best III served well as a
narrator in the character of Dionysus. It is clear that director Baker has
used the rehearsal period to have his talented cast of ten explore their
roles and develop what actors usually call the “backstory” of their
characters. Yes, the performers know who these kids are. But the audience
doesn’t get the benefit of that exploration. Iizuka’s script has some of the
characters tell the audience some of their stories, but theater is better
when the audience discovers character through action than when it is
delivered in a speech.
Giorgos Tsappas has designed a distinctive set for the evening which makes
the presentation impressive. But it is spick and span clean, further
distancing the play from the realities of street kids living in squalor.
Costume designer Brandee Mathies, on the other hand, captures that world
well in the costumes. Jesse Terrill composed an atmospheric score of
incidental music and material for cast members to sing and play on a muted
trumpet. It adds to the theatricality of this distinctively staged
production of a somewhat disappointing script.
Written by Naomi Iizuka.
Directed by Keith Alan Baker. Co-directed by Christopher Gallu. Music
composed by Jesse Terrill. Design: Giorgos Tsappas (set) Brandee Mathies
(costumes) Jennifer Moss (properties) Peter N. Joyce (lights) Jeff Poretsky
(sound and video) Scott Suchman (photography) Susie Pamudji (stage manager).
Cast: Regina Aquino, Mayo Best III, Veronica del Cerro, Catherine Deadman,
Anthony Gallagher, Cesar A. Guadamuz, Scott Kerns, Jason McCool, Salma
Qarnain, Elizabeth H Richards. |
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November 14 - December 29,
2002
Bat Boy: The Musical |
Reviewed November 17, 2002
Running time 2 hours 40 minutes
Price $30 |
Secondstage has a tradition of using dilapidated
spaces to good advantage. For this one, the audience is trooped down the
alleyway to the former garage that will someday be part of Studio’s
burgeoning complex but which now is just a hollowed out shell. There they
will sit on backless bleachers for over two and a half hours. This spoof of
a horror show isn't horrible -- just it's seating is.Storyline: A wild
boy with pointed ears and sharp fangs is discovered hanging from the ceiling
of a cave in Hope Falls (get it?) West Virginia. He is taken in by the
family of the town’s veterinarian, who transform him into a debonair if
slightly unusual looking youngster. But the townspeople believe that a
mysterious plague affecting the cattle they range on the side of their
mountain is caused by this "Bat Boy" and they want him destroyed.
In mathematical annotation the formula for this off-Broadway hit could be
Urinetown times Side Show divided by Hedwig and the Angry
Inch. The story by Keythe Farley and Brian Flemming is a lampoon of
popular culture within the conceit of the supermarket tabloid approach to
the literally incredible. It simultaneously pays homage to as many old saws
of musical theater as the team can pull off. The songs by Laurence O’Keefe
are an eclectic bunch of rockish pop-theater songs featuring
self-consciously clever lyrics that are fun to follow and melodies that are
strong enough to carry the scene even if they don’t stay in the head as you
leave the theater. The cumulative effect is of rhythm rather than melody.
The vocal demands of the score are in the area of volume rather than of
pitch and most of the cast seem to turn horse before the end of the evening.
Not Buzz Mauro, however. No, he is pitch-perfect in the singing – and in the
acting! He takes the role of the veterinarian with evil plans and deep dark
secrets just about as far as it can go in a performance that is simply not
to be missed. Patrick O’Neill, as the bat boy, gives a very physical,
high-energy performance that is thoroughly satisfying. Also fabulous is
Lauri Kraft in a Donna Reed-ish wife/mother role.
Set designer John Raley tries to take full advantage of the depth of the
available space, placing Daniel Sticco and his rocking four piece band far
in the back of a center section defined by the concrete pillars of the old
garage around which he had to work. He pulls off a number of neat effects
with the (naked) bat boy climbing ladders in the corners, the (clothed) bat
boy hanging from the overheads, and a revival meeting using a cross of
flashing light bulbs as a lectern. Not all the visual effects work. Costume
designer Michele Reisch puts "Pan the Forest King" and his minions in kiddy
pool flotation gear for a scene that just doesn’t work. Those effects that
do work are best viewed from the uncomfortable bleachers in the center. The
uncomfortable bleachers on either side of the playing area suffer the
additional indignity of limited sight lines. Since this is a show without
reserved seats, be smart and grab a seat in the center.
Story and book by Keythe Farley and Brian Flemming. Music and lyrics
by Laurence O’Keefe. Directed by Mike Chamberlin. Choreography by Michael J.
Bobbitt. Music direction by Daniel Sticco. Design: John Raley (set) Michele
Reisch (costumes) Eleanor Gomberg (properties) Colin Bills (lights) Jeff
Poretsky (sound). Cast: Patrick O’Neill, Buzz Mauro, Lauri Kraft, Tara
Giordano, Mark Bush, Terry Crummitt, Kate Debelack, Carlos Offutt, Doug
Sanford, Meghan Touey. |
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July 11 - August 4, 2002
Nocturne |
Reviewed July 21
Running time 2 hours
Price $20 |
Everyone who drives a car has, at one time or other, asked himself how he
would handle the guilt of causing serious damage to someone. Usually the
thought is of the immediate reaction. But what of the long term impact of
knowing your actions brought about great harm? What if that harm was death?
What if the victim was your own sister? How on earth could you function?
Storyline: "The son" looks back on his life and his family’s life
following the fateful day fifteen years earlier when "I killed my sister."
He’d been driving home from his after-school job, tired and distracted but
not drunk or disorderly. In a moment of instant and perhaps instinctive
reaction to an obstruction, he hit his younger sister. He dropped out of
school, left town, gave up his dreams of a music career but began to write.
Now he’s attempting to reconnect with his family.
Adam Rapp’s play vividly portrays the pain of all the family members,
concentrating not on how you get through the immediate aftermath but,
instead, the years, even decades following such a tragedy. It is a narration
play and "the son" is the narrator. It feels like a one-actor play, all
description and observation coming from the one mind – that of "the son."
Oh, the impact on the others, especially on "the father" are painfully
present. But they are presented as "the son" understands them. And this son
does understand them. He expresses them in lyrical language peppered with
revealing details and cogent observations. He hasn’t forgiven himself and he
doesn’t expect them to forgive him. But he has come to realize that their
losses are amplified by continued inability to connect to each other.
Scott Fortier plays "the son" with an intensity concealed by a thin
veneer, the crust of years of self loathing. The hurt and the pain below
that crust is visible in his eyes. They dart about when he is looking for a
right word or collecting a thought but they turn vacant and empty when the
word is found or the thought recognized as a painful memory. He makes the
attention to detail in Rapp’s text seem an ingrained mental process which
keeps it from seeming an affectation or a distraction. The supporting cast
is supportive indeed as they give Fortier events to amplify through verbal
description without deflecting attention from his narrative. Timothy Rice as
"the father" is the strongest of these.
Director Keith Alan Baker keeps the focus right where it needs to be
throughout the evening, never letting the tension break. Giorgos Tsappas’
simple set design of angled panels, steps and wood chip surface is matched
by Edu. Bernardino’s costumes and Peter N. Joyce’s lighting to keep this a
drab and dreary world from which joy was drained not just by a single event
when car met flesh but by the years of pain. It is the magic of theater that
the result is a thing of beauty crafted out of subtle details.
Written by Adam Rapp. Directed by Keith Alan Baker. Design: Giorgos
Tsappas (set) Edu. Bernardino (costume) Tim Riodan (properties) Peter N.
Joyce (lights) Evan Bliss (sound). Cast Scott Fortier, Timothy Rice, Brianna
Gwen Parsonnet, Andrea Hatfield, Kelly Ewing. |
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May 16 – June 30, 2002
This Is Our Youth |
Reviewed May 23
Running time 2 hours 25 minutes |
Three characters caught in the space between childhood and adulthood in the
urban maze are the subject of Kenneth Lonergan’s 1996 play. Lonergan has
been one of the playwrights to watch in the late 90's and now in the early
2000's. Studio Secondstage is giving audiences a chance to see this, his
first major success, at the same time Studio is presenting his latest,
Lobby Hero, in their main building. (In between came his most famous
work to date, the Pulitzer Prize nominated The Waverly Gallery.)
Storyline: March, 1982. New York City. The tiny apartment of a young hustler
who brokers drug deals and other ventures while waiting to figure out what
to do with his life. A friend arrives hoping to crash for the weekend while
figuring out what to do with the thousands of dollars he has taken from his
father’s briefcase, some of which he has already spent. They hatch a scheme
to buy and sell some drugs in order to have enough to put Dad’s money back.
But the hustler’s scheme goes wrong while the friend can’t resist the
temptation to spend more of the money on a fling with a girl.
While the set up – the location, the circumstances, the aspects of the
characters – is sufficiently intriguing, it is Lonergan’s ear for language
that is the most impressive aspect of the play. Each of the three characters
speaks in his or her own distinctive phrasing but, hey, the sum of the
vocabulary and patterns of the three is, like, a portrait of the patois of
urban slang, you know? That language isn’t what would pass for polite, but
it is exactly what you would hear listening in on these conversations. Then,
too, his plotting stretches credulity at times but the characters are right
on.
The friend, played with humor as well as pathos by Karl Miller, is the
best formed of the three, but then, he really is the central character of
the show. We learn much more about his history, his hopes and his fears than
we do about the background of either the hustler or the girl. We learn
something of his relationship with his parents. We learn something of his
history (or lack of it) with the opposite sex. Most importantly, we learn
about the most significant event in his past, the murder of his sister.
Miller’s blend of self doubt and easy charm explains why this particular
youngster couldn’t rise above the challenges he faced. His charm and wit
always got him past confrontations outside the home and his parents never
forced issues at home. No such depth is provided in the script for the other
two roles, but Jon Bernthal gives the hustler some texture while Amy
Montminy does just about all that can be done with the text provided for the
girl.
All the action plays out in the semi-seedy squalor of Giorgos Tsappas’
faded replication of the hustler’s apartment fitted out with telling
touches. Combined with Brandee Mathies’ equally appropriate costumes, the
drab world of these not-kids/not-adults feels real. Lonergan titled the play
This Is Our Youth, placing some measure of responsibility for that
world and the aimlessness of the lives being lived in it squarely on the
shoulders of the presumably adult theatergoers. But he sets it in 1982 and
seems to blame the Reagan era as if the problems he portrays are now in the
past. As the Reagan years recede and the problems of the alienation of each
new generation seem to repeat this feels more and more like a cop-out.
Written by Kenneth Lonergan. Directed by Serge Seiden. Design: Giorgos
Tsappas (set) Brandee Mathies (costumes) Diane Graves (properties) Peter
Joyce (lights) Jeff Poretsky (sound). Cast: Karl Miller, Jon Bernthal, Amy
Montminy. |
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