Washington Shakespeare
Company - ARCHIVE
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June 19 - July 20, 2008
Red Noses
Reviewed
June 28 by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 2:40 - one intermission
An Avant-Garde comedy of coping with Bubonic Plague
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You know those sliced-in-half red plastic balls that clowns paste (or strap)
on their noses? They are what the title of this strange diversion means.
Strange? Oh, yes! Diverting? Also yes! It's a bit too long (principally
because of the unfortunate diversion of a play within a play that both
breaks the rhythm of the piece and adds to its already excessive running
time). It certainly stretches credulity. However, in co-directors Jay Hardee
and
John Geoffrion's hands, the twenty member cast playing over thirty named
roles manage to keep it all straight, make it clear within its own
convoluted logic and maintain a high entertainment quotient. There are a
number of impressive individual performances but the evening is most
impressive for the work of John C. Bailey as the clown who starts it all.
Storyline: In the age of the black death, a friar in his brown robe dons
a clown's red nose to divert the population from its attention to the
plague then spreading throughout Europe. He recruits followers into a band
of "Christ's Clowns," believing that laughter may not be the best medicine
but it is the only way to maintain sanity.
Peter Barnes' strange play won the Olivier
Award for Best New Play in 1985. Barnes seems to specialize in plays that
leap over time periods. While this one is set during the plague which killed
some 75 million people worldwide including as much as half of the population
of Europe during the Papacy of Clement IV (1342-1352), other works of his
deal with Leonardo da Vinci (Leonardo's Last Supper), Spain's
seventeenth century king, Philip IV (The Bewitched) and one that
juxtaposed Russia's Ivan the Terrible of the sixteenth century with Nazi
horrors of the twentieth in a satire amazingly titled Laughter.
As Christ's Clown called by God to spread joy through
"the heresy of humor," John C. Bailey does some of his best, most defined
and highly polished work to date. Joe Palka ratchets up the level of
bizarreness as an Archbishop who fends off the plague with sprays of vinegar
and a fly swatter and Christopher Henley pulls off the admirable feat of
enunciating so clearly as Pope Clement IV that he can be understood through
the gas mask he wears under his miter. Add a Hindu mime (Melissa Marie
Hmelnicky in a graceful performance) a stand up comic with a stutter (Evan
Crump who looses the stutter when speaking through a puppet) and a one
legged ballerina (Caitlin Smith hobbling around with a crutch) and you have
quite an ensemble.
Costume designer Jennifer Tardiff provides garb in a
wide range of styles, flirting with chronological confusion to match the
tone of the text. Bailey is in simple brown friar's robes and Henley's
finery (with the exception of the gas mask) is fairly traditional papal
garb, although without the crimson cape Clement IV wore in many of the
portraits that come down to us. Others, however, sport jeans and crocks and
the "corps carriers" are in black gothic outfits with ravens' masks. Props
are similarly anachronistic - fourteenth century revelers go on a picnic
with a 7-Eleven Styrofoam cooler - while the incidental music ranges from
chant to "The House of the Rising Sun." It all takes place, of course, on a
three-ring stage.
Written by Peter Barnes. Directed by Jay Hardee and
John Geoffrion. Dances choreographed by Heather Haney. Fights choreographed
by John C. Bailey and Thomas Wood. Design: Michael Roike (set) Jennifer
Tardiff (costumes) Andrew F. Griffin (lights) David Crandall (sound) Ray
Gniewek (photography) Amber Krause (stage manager). Cast: John C. Bailey,
Frank Britton, Brian Crane, Evan Crump, Kim Curtis, Kevin Finkelstein, Jack
Fitzmorris, John Geoffrion, Kari Ginsburg, Heather Haney, Christopher
Henley, Melissa Marie Hmelnicky, Erin Kaufman, Ellie Nicoll, Joe Palka, Matt
Provance, Caitlin Smith, Josh Sticklin, Emily Webbe, Thomas Wood. |
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February 7 - March 9, 2008
Hedda Gabler
Reviewed by
David Siegel |
Running time 2:20 - one intermission
A production for aficionados of cooler approaches to theater |
Freshening-up of a classic such as Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler (1890) is a
necessary but risky venture. Iconic plays can always use new generational
attitudes to find contemporary meanings or a lost subtext in what may have
grown musty over time. As directed by Christopher Henley using the recent
Andrew Upton adaptation, the Washington Shakespeare Company production is an
initially cool, detached approach marked with some modern flourishes in its
portrayal of the title character. This Hedda is a manipulative rogue,
consciously out to control others. The pre-show music helps this
interpretation with titles such as “The Lady is a Tramp.” Heather Haney’s
Hedda is quickly at odds with the stiff creatures that surround her,
including her way-too-emasculated mommies-boy husband. This Hedda may be
conflicted at points, but her trajectory is clear; to fight society and
twist it about to fit into her scheme of life. With all the artic cold in this
production, Haney’s shimmering blond lean beauty is like a torch in the
proceedings. Even the lighting patterns seem to always give her creamy skin
a glow as if she is painted with light reflecting make-up. But, as the
production moves along and bits of heat are applied here and there with the
entrances of Frank Britton as the slick Judge and Adam Jonas Segaller as her
ex-lover, the passion seems forced and almost out of place in this cold,
calculated production. Death becomes her, but it seems to get there in a
long, almost melodramatic last scene.
Storyline: Hedda Gabler Tesman returns home
after a long honeymoon with her new husband Jorgen Tesman, an aspiring
academic. As the play progresses it becomes clear that Hedda feels confined
in the marriage and in society in general. Hedda’s old suitor appears, as
does a slick local Judge, and her old friend who has just left her husband.
All ends badly for most, with Hedda taking her own life.
Playwright Henrik Ibsen (1828-1906) was one of
the most influential playwrights of his time. His work was often of
passionate but tragic lives of those who tried to push through society’s
boundaries and barriers. His work is appealing to this day and is often
revived. Upton adapted the original script for a production that starred his
wife, Australian actress Cate Blanchett. That production must have been a
star turn. With Ms. Blanchett as Hedda, one wonders even if the adaptation
had been a horror, would anyone have had the audacity to say so when it was
performed in Australia? But, for another theater company and without,
Blanchett - well, that is clearly not an easy task. Director Christopher
Hanley has approached this production with a stylized attitude, rather than
a naturalistic approach. He seems to be trying to be hip and classic at the
same time. It is a tough thing to do. The modern touches of the Hedda
seen here seems almost parachuted onto the set. As the audience enters the
theater, the entire cast is standing or sitting “at places.” All except
Haney’s Hedda who is seen pacing about with the energy of a cat, and a
shadowy male figure running in place behind a curtain filtering his full
appearance. The cast is all dark costumed or darkly featured, except for
Haney with her shimmering creamy skin, golden hair and soft flaxen colored
corset dress. The odd touches in this production include the all too
frequent use of reduced lighting intensity to almost black-out moments on
stage with ominous music playing to emphasze a particular phrasing or script
nuance. And then there is the invisible hand playing a triangle whenever the
word “love triangle” is used. This reviewer thought of the old Groucho Marx
show when a duck dropped down when the magic word was uttered.
Heather Haney’s Hedda is a
glowing presence, her skin, her hair, her costumes … she is the only color
dropped into a black and white film. With her cat-like pacing throughout the
production, Haney presents a figure dying to live with abandon and no
responsibilities, while the rest of the cast is sedentary and lost. As her
womanly foil, the usually assured Kathleen Akerley feels miscast as a
submissive mouse who has taken a bold move; leaving the husband she does not
love for a life with a hot-blooded young academic who also happens to be the
ex-lover of Hedda Gabler. Somehow, Akerley’s tall figure and strong features
and long hair seem wrong for the part of a little mouse. Daniel Eichner’s
Jorgen Tesman is such a prissy little boy that, for Hedda to have married
him would have meant he had money or was great in intimate settings; the
latter does appears likely. Adam Jonas Segaller, a dark-eyed, soulful
presence brings heat to his role as Hedda’s ex-lover who ends up killing
himself by shooting off his male member either accidentally or purposefully.
He does take a rather strange turn as a blood soaked apparition walking
about in the background in a hypnotic daze in the final minutes of the
production, while others speak their lines. Frank Britton’s Judge is a
delightfully “alive” character with his shiny bold pate, facial hair, his
clipped speaking manner and his calm, know-it-all attitude as he holds the
goods on Hedda and is prepared to use them to save his own reputation.
Marta Karl’s Aunt Jilie Tesman is one over-bearing woman with love that
envelopes to the point of drowning others in her own neediness.
The Clark Street Playhouse
is used to its fullest as the set is laid at on the floor and the risers
force the audience to look down on the players. There are several playing
areas that are best set off by Marianne Meadows’s lighting design. Sound
designer David Crandall has pre-show musical selections and background
melodic tunes that provide guidance as to what is happening on stage or
might in the very next second. Costumes are set at the top of the show and
easily give visual clues as to who is what in temperament.
Written by Henrik Ibsen. Adapted by Andrew
Upton. Directed by Christopher Henley. Design: William Fisher (set) Brandon
R. McWilliams (costumes) Buck McGuffin (properties) Marianne Meadows
(lights) David Crandall (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Amy Millican
(stage manager). Cast: Kathleen Akerley, Frank Britton, Daniel Eichner,
Heather Haney, Martha Karl, Adam Jonas Segaller and Caitlin Smith.
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December 6, 2007 - January 19, 2008
The House of Yes
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 1:20 - no intermission
An off-beat black comedy of familial affection (another term for incest)
Click here to buy the script |
In rep with the delightfully flippant Kafka's Dick, this strange dark
piece is being given an earnest production that attempts to plumb the depths
of character in a family lacking both depth and character. Dysfunction can
be a source of great comedy or drama, and occasionally both. Not this time.
Here the inherent tragedy in the dramatic elements cancel out the humor in
the comedy - and vice versa. Perhaps its the stain of blood on the
recreation of Jackie Kennedy's pink suit that the mentally disturbed young
woman dons to play a game of assassination with her brother/lover that turns
the merely quirky into the something beyond the pale. Costume designer Erin
Nugent provides such an accurate recreation that it turns the tall and
slender Sara Barker into a time-warping vision of history rather than a
demented contemporary play acting woman/child. Under Colin Hovde's direction
all five characters are, like the pink suit, so close to the reality of
dysfunction that discomfort sets in early and stays with you throughout the
eighty minutes of the single act play.
Storyline: A young man who has had an incestuous relationship with his
sister brings his fiancée home to meet his strange family: his domineering
mother, his immature brother and his sister/former lover who is obsessed
with Jackie Onasis. His brother and his fiancée hop into the sack for some
sex early on and his sister/former-lover wants to renew the affair with a
game - acting out the parts of Jackie and Jack in the limo in Dallas at that
fateful moment of the assassination.
Wendy MacLeod teaches drama and is the playwright in
residence at Ohio's Kenyon College, and has a half dozen plays to her credit
in addition to this one which was made into a movie that went fairly quickly
from theatre screen to DVD. The subtitle of this of black comedy is "A Suburban
Jacobean Play." Jacobean, as in the plays written during the reign of James
I of England (or "Jacob Rex," using the Hebrew name from which "James"
evolved) when theatre concentrated on the shocking side of evil. At least
Jacobean tragedy did. MacLeod's rather labored effort to layer Jacobean
features on this simple tale include making the brother and sister twins
(shades of Greek tragedy?) whose mother informs the fiancée in her very
first conversation with her future daughter in law that her daughter's hand
"was holding (her brothers') penis at birth."
Jason Stiles and Jay Hardee are the brothers in the
family. Stiles establishes an initial sense of sanity as the one who has
tried to break away from a disturbed past with some success, as witness the
fact that he's actually established a relationship outside the demented
family home. He resists a descent back into the pit of incestuous
involvement, but succumbs in carefully measured steps. Hardee has no such
reach for normality in his character -- he's simply a selfish manipulator
from the start. Both Stiles and Hardee touch the truth of their unfortunate
characters. Sara Barker may be too true to the role, making it difficult to
spot the humanity under the veneer of instability, and Wendy Wilmer's
ramrod-stiff mother of the brood shows little of the maternal instinct that
might explain, if not justify, her protectiveness toward her children's
oddities. As the representative of the supposedly normal external world, the
fiancée whom Stiles has brought home to meet the family, played by an actress who
spells her name all in lower case (elisha efua bartels), provides little
indication of just why she'd give in to the inane seduction efforts of
Hardee within minutes of entering the troubled house.
Given that realism is the effect they all seem to be
going for, the design matches the performances well. MacLeod places the
action in the family home at Thanksgiving, but adds the foreboding touch
that a hurricane force storm is howling just outside the windows. Hannah
Crowell's set, which had to be designed to meet the requirements of both
shows in the repertory, works well with the rear wall that formed book cases
for Kafka's Dick now featuring windows being taped up for the storm,
and Matt Otto's sounds of wind, rain and thunder add to the apprehension.
Just why the ultimate assassination reenactment features a handgun rather
than a Mannlicher-Carcano rifle is left unexplained.
Written by Wendy MacLeod. Directed by Colin Hovde.
Design: Hannah J Crowell (set) Erin Nugent (costumes) Andrew F. Griffin
(lights) Matt Otto (sound) Ray Gnewiek (photography) Rob Barossi (stage
manager). Cast: Sara Barker, elisha efua bartels, Jay Hardee, Jason Stiles,
Wendy Wilmer. |
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November 29, 2007 -
January 13, 2008
Kafka's Dick
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 2:10 - one intermission
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for a screamingly funny first act and a second act
that is almost as good
(And, yes, the title's reference is to an anatomical issue)
Click here to buy the script |
That's Bruce Alan Rauscher cracking up and Christopher Henley, as Franz
Kafka, appearing bemused behind him in the photo on the right. It is a scene
from the Alan Bennett comedy that is being performed in repertory with
The House of Yes. It could well be a scene of audience reactions - for
these are the only two emotions experienced all evening long ... explosive
laughter and amusement. Not a jot of boredom, apprehension or sorrow. As Sondhiem once wrote: "tragedy tomorrow, comedy tonight!" Bennett's first act
is a non-stop assault on the funny bone with just enough exposition thrown
in to keep the plot moving and avoid accusations of being a comedy routine
instead of a comic play. But the outrageous concept, off-kilter
characterizations, running gags and manic energy as the story is being set
up are as well developed and highly polished as the best of routines. Under
Joe Banno's full-speed-ahead direction, Rauscher is hysterical and Henley
absurdly funny. It never gets to be anything less than a kick even though
things do bog down a bit as the plot turns get too heavy for the gossamer
tone of the early going.
Storyline: A time-bending comedy finds Czech writer Franz Kafka appearing
decades after his death to find that, in contravention to his explicit
instructions prior to his death, his good friend didn't burn his manuscripts
but published them instead, and, to add insult to injury, also wrote a
best-selling biography about him. Posthumous psychological profiles of
Kafka had concentrated on the impact his abusive father had on his
self-image. But Franz isn't the only Kafka to slip through time to appear,
along with his late biographer, in the home of an insurance man writing an
article on him for "The Fine Print: The Journal of Insurance Studies." Also
showing up is his father who tries to blackmail his son into exonerating him
of allegations of abuse.
With his Olivier and Tony awards for the amusing but
serious-minded The History Boys bestowing a sense of somewhat somber
seriousness on his public image, Alan Bennett's early, laugh-filled fancies
may come as a surprise to some. But remember, he was one fourth of the team
that burst onto the consciousness of comedy fans with Beyond the Fringe
along with Dudley Moore, Jonathan Miller and Peter Cook -- the thinking man's
alternative to Monty Python when it came to British humor. In this 1986
play, Bennett mines the vein of literary humor as well as hitting all the
expected topics of social criticism for which this kind of comedy is known.
Some of his funniest lines involve more contemporary authors, especially
Tennessee Williams and Evelyn Waugh.
As absolutely marvelous as Rauscher and Henley are,
they aren't alone on this stage. There
is John Geoffrion doing nice supporting work as the would-be Kafka expert
and Adrienne Nelson (as his wife) filling out a velour lounging outfit with the requisite
pulchritude and playing the sexuality brightly (but mangling some of the
dialogue with a too-thick British accent) and Brian Cassidy as an elderly
gent whose appearances all lead up to a genuine belly laugh. The
tremendously talented Ian Armstrong has the unfortunate fate of coming in a
bit too late with a part a bit too strong -- he's Kafka's dad who blackmails
his son with the threat of revealing what he suspects is the anatomical
reason for all of his son's peculiarities that biographers have attributed
to mal-parenting. He's fun in the role but it is jarring nonetheless.
Hannah Crowl's distinctive set features a wall of
slats at an angle creating a series of slanted bookcases filled with
identically bound volumes before a two-level playing space. But Banno
doesn't confine himself to using that playing space alone. No, he has
Rauscher out in the audience, prowling along the rows, excusing himself as
he knocks the knees of patrons and generally assuring that everyone is
paying attention. Once he reverts to on-stage blocking, Rauscher is still
addressing the audience directly from time to time to comment on aspects of
the action ("That's the trouble with big tits - the mind goes on holiday").
Written by Alan Bennett. Directed by Joe Banno.
Design: Hannah J. Crowell (set) Kimberly Dawn Morell (costumes) Andrew F.
Griffin (lights) Matt Otto (sound) Ray Gnewiek (photography) Donna Reynolds
(stage manager). Cast: Charlotte Akin, Ian Armstrong, Bryan Cassidy, John Geoffrion, Christopher Henley, Adrienne Nelson, Bruce Alan Rauscher. |
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October 11 - November
11, 2007
Caligula
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 2:15 - one
intermission
A handsome staging of an exploration of a Roman Emperor's excesses
v
strong sexual content and brief nudity |
The history of Rome provides such a wide range of drama. From Shakespeare to
Shaw, toga-clad heroes and villains stride across innumerable stages.
Christopher Henley plucks one fairly obscure Roman history play from the
collection and gives it a strikingly visual staging with a fine performance
at its center, its title character. The production of Albert Camus' 1938
portrayal of debauchery as an instrument of statecraft is at its best in the
first act, as the philosophical point of the play is made with some
devastating images and Alexander Strain as Caligula approaches the boundary
between unchecked rationality and uncontrolled insanity. However, it veers
out of control after that boundary has been breeched in the second half and
Strain's Caligula exchanges his toga for a bustier and mesh stockings.
Storyline: Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus
Germanicus, known better simply as Caligula, third emperor of Rome, earns
his reputation for depravity, debauchery and cruelty, in a short reign that
ends with his assassination by a court threatened by his increasingly
outlandish demands.
The history
play as philosophical exercise has been a theatrical staple since its
inception - theater's inception that is. Think Aeschylus, Sophocles, and
Euripides who wrote tragedies based on stories from Greece's already dark
past. Then think Shakespeare. Now think Albert Camus. Camus? Yes, the
distinctly 20th Century French philosopher who did so much to spread the
word of existentialism to the beat generation of the 50s. Camus wrote this
play at a time that Europe and, indeed, the entire world, was assessing the
impact of the rise of Hitler. The text explores the logic or illogic of a
demand for blind obedience by a ruler, but doesn't openly deal with any
perceived parallels between excesses of the past and excesses of the
then-present. Henley doesn't explore the Caligula/Hitler connection and,
instead, treats the play as an interesting example of the reductio ad
absurdum technique so often used in debate in which an assumption is taken
to its ultimate conclusion in order to demonstrate that it is flawed in the
first place. Here the assumption that obedience to authority is a good thing
is put to extreme stress.
Strain gives a strong performance of an unstable ruler
released from restraint. His isn't the only notable performance, however.
Kathleen Akerley is distinctive as both a Roman writer in Caligula's court
and the French writer Camus in Henley's intriguing opening for the show when
she appears to the audience in the lobby to introduce the action. (The
audience is then invited into the theater, passing between two rows of
centurions chanting "Note the exits. Turn off cell phones.") Heather Haney
is particularly impressive as Caligula's sister with whom he's incestuously
involved. Abby Wood and Rahaleh Nassri add two more well developed female
characters to the court. Among the males, Jay Hardee is fascinating in the
role of a young poet who, as the poet Camus would believe poets do, sees
through Caligula's posturing long before anyone else in the court, and Evan
Crump adds an ethereal touch as a reverse-polarity mirror image of Caligula.
The physical design for the production is notable for
its use of the great amount of space available in the Clark Street
Playhouse. Set designer Andrew J. Berry places a draped atrium to one side
of the stage and an open set of steps and passages on the other with plenty
of open space in front suggesting the openness of the Roman Forum. The
drapes around the atrium can't completely hide the atrocities committed
within, as the drapes are flimsy and shadows play over them when lit from
behind. This is particularly effective as a double rape is committed out of
sight but not out of the hearing of the victim's husband whose loyalty is
being put to the test. Strangely, Henley obscures that rape scene but plays
out a male-on-male rape in plain sight.
Written by Albert Camus. Translated by David Greig
based on a literal translation by Chris Campbell. Directed by Christopher
Henely. Design: Andrew J. Berry (set) Emily Dere (costumes) Robert Brown
(lights) Erik Trester (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Jenn Carlson (stage
manager). Cast: Katheleen Akerley, Frank Britton, Brian Crane, Evan Crump,
Kim Curtis, Parker Dixon, Theo Hadjimichael, Heather Haney, Jay Hardee,
Rahaleh Nassri, Francisco Reinoso, Alexander Strain, Abby Wood.
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August 16 - September 30, 2007
Private Lives
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 2:10 - two intermissions
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for a sparkling, high
fashion comedy
Performances at 1409 Playbill Café
Click here to buy the script |
Noel Coward’s much loved
sophisticated comedy is a strange choice for the often serious, always
adventurous, frequently classical Washington Shakespeare Company to mount in
a 35-seat back room of the theater community haunt on the northern side of the Potomac.
But their run at the Clark Street Playhouse on the south side of the 14th
Street Bridge is coming to a close soon as the former warehouse is
sacrificed to the gods of development, and they are branching out to new
spaces with new material. Coward subtitled this 1930 four-character play "an
intimate comedy." He probably had another meaning of the word "intimate" in
mind than a small room. Still, director H. Lee Gable and his
designers and cast cram a great deal of style and charm into the space even
if so few patrons are privileged to witness it at each performance. The show
doesn't perform this weekend (August 24 - 26) while Barbara Papendorp
performs her cabaret show of Coward Songs, but there are still 18
performances scheduled through September 23rd which means as many as 630
patrons can still see Bruce Alan Rauscher and Cam Magee bring Coward's
creation to life.
Storyline: Five years
after their divorce from a marriage that must have been marked by
unimaginable fireworks, two members of the upper crust of British society
that flourished between the world wars are each on their honeymoon with
their new spouses in separate bridal suites that happen to share a balcony.
When they discover each other’s presence, the old passion is reignited and
they flee for her flat in Paris, leaving behind, for the moment, their
respective spouses. Their reunion is marked by all the passion of the
earlier marriage and marred by all the incompatibility that destroyed it.
They may be older, but are they any wiser?
Bruce Alan Rauscher brings
a sense of charm and style to the part of the upper-class leading man, Elyot Chase,
whose flippancy is exceeded only by his urbanity. Coward wrote the part for
himself and endowed it with a host of fabulous lines as well as with an
internal consistency that makes it a delight in the hands of an actor who
can sink his teeth into material without seeming too calculated. Rauscher
throws off the bon mots with aplomb. As Amanda, the role Coward wrote for Gertrude Lawrence, Magee is a thinking-woman’s libertine, matching the
considerable emotional and intellectual strength of Rauscher/Elyot with
flare. Three decades before the coining of the term, she is the embodiment
of women's lib. Magee/Amanda is irresistible to Rauscher/Elyot precisely
because she is his intellectual equal. The chemistry between the two actors
is instantaneously obvious when their eyes first meet on the balcony in act
one, and the heat builds until it combusts.
Rauscher and Magee
aren't the only charmers on stage. The new
spouses deserted on their wedding nights are Megan Dominy and Jeremy Lister.
Each provides their respective spouses with effective foils for the early
scenes, but it is in the third act, when their characters team up only to
exhibit signs of the same combativeness that afflict Elyot and Amanda, that
they really shine. Gable adds a nice touch to link the second and third act.
He has Dominy and Lister, who make a brief appearance at the end of
the second act, remain on stage attempting to sleep away the hours before
the action resumes at dawn. Gable also converts the small
part of the maid in the third
act, nearly a walk-on,
into a split role --
maid/chanteuse -- so that Barbara Pappendorp can perform "Someday I'll Find
You," Porter's example of (his words, not mine) "how potent cheap music
is" in a live prologue to both of the first two acts.
The play requires two sets - one of the balcony of the
sea-side resort where Amanda and Elyot re-discover each other, and one of
the flat in Paris to which they abscond. This presents quite a challenge in
the confined space in 1409 Playbill. Designer Richard Montgomery doesn't
take the easy approach of a sketchy suggestion of the scenes. Instead, he
goes for two architecturally distinctive and highly detailed structures with
distinctive features for each. It means the stage crew must work awfully
hard between the first two acts, but the results are rewarding. Even more
rewarding are the costumes of Lynly Saunders who creates a wardrobe
expressive of the time, the wealth, the style and the class pretensions of
the characters, while, at the same time, actually looking as if these are the
clothes they wear, not just costumes for a play.
Written by Noel Coward.
Directed by H. Lee Gable. Musical direction by James R. Fitzpatrick. Design:
Richard Montgomery (set) Lynly Saunders (costumes) Jason Cowperthwaite
(lights) Erik Trester (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Zachary W. Ford
(stage manager). Cast: Megan Dominy, Jeremy Lister, Cam Magee, Barbara
Papendorp, Bruce Alan Rauscher.
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June 14 - July 22, 2007
Macbeth |
Running time 2:35 - one intermission
A superbly atmospheric presentation of Shakespeare's classic
v
Performed in the nude
Click here to buy the script |
Your first clue as to just how different this production will be from all
the others you may have seen is the front cover of the program. It doesn't
say "William Shakespeare's Macbeth" it says "José Carrasquillo's Vision of
Macbeth." When we first listed this production on Potomac Stages it was with the
proviso that "the production is said to feature
considerable nudity." Actually, it is total nudity. Anyone who would find
that offensive -- or so awfully distracting that they couldn't pay attention
to what author William Shakespeare wrote, director José Carrasquillo dreamed
or the superb cast of ten capable but unclothed actors and actresses are
doing on Giorgos Tsappas' tremendously atmospheric set -- should be
encouraged to stay away. Everyone else should be informed in no uncertain
terms that this is a quality production that presents "the Scottish play" in
a new and very effective light (or is that a new and very effective
darkness?). Not only is there no costume design credit because there are no
costumes, there is no sound design credit either. Thus, we aren't told who
to thank for the eerie sounds that compliment the production so well. There
are drum beats, whistles, screams, moans and screeches that members of a
primitive tribe might well make as a shaman tells a tale from the dark
depths of pre-history.
Storyline: With prophecies from three witches
ringing in his ears and driven by his wife’s ambitions, a Scottish lord
kills his King and assumes the throne only to find that he must commit other
murders to keep it. As guilt eats at him and at his wife, he is cornered and
killed by one of his own intended victims.
Shakespeare’s great tragedy of a Scottish King’s
rise to power through murder and his undoing through guilt is one of his
simplest stories in structure with the fewest subplots and diversions from
the central narrative. It is an almost uninterrupted progression toward the
terrible fate of the central characters and nearly every scene which doesn't
feature either Macbeth or his lady exists purely to set up some event that
contributes directly to their eventual destruction. Carrasquillo's
atmospheric staging enhances rather than distracts from that singularity of
story. While some may speculate that the naked approach was motivated at
least in part by the thought that it would stimulate ticket sales (and it is
undeniable that the matinee performance we saw was better attended than
would normally be expected of a beautiful weekend afternoon), the images Carrasquillo creates and the spell the cast casts more than justifies the
approach on purely artistic grounds.
That cast is headed by Daniel Eichner who is magnetic
as the early, ambitious Macbeth. His mad scenes are no match, however, for
those of Kathleen Akerley who is superb throughout the performance as Lady
Macbeth. She also doubles as Hecate, the Queen of the Witches. Her three
subordinates are Manshu Chang, Heather Haney, Ashely Robinson who are nearly
feral as the three witches with their oft-quoted "Double, double, toil and
trouble / Fire burn and cauldron bubble." Eichner is the only member of the
cast who does not double, triple or even quadruple to cover the more than
thirty speaking roles in the script. It is a tribute to Carrasquillo's
staging, and the cast's craft, that they are able to create recognizably
distinctive characters without costumes to change.
Tsappas' setting is a thing of theatrical beauty, a
triangular platform floating within a magical forest of nearly
Stongehenge-ish trees against a black background. The cast appears as an
apparition as the play gets underway and none leave the playing space
between scenes. Instead, any actor not engaged on the triangle is either
hunkered down on its perimeter or standing ramrod straight as if he or she
has become one of the trees. All is shrouded in darkness that is crafted
with care by lighting designer Ayun Fedorcha who actually should be billed
as darkness designer. She adds a very effective touch with a blood-red
spotlight shining straight down into an opening in the triangular stage that
serves as both the witches cauldron and washbasin allowing Akerley, as Lady
Macbeth, to have her hands turn red every time she tries to wash out the
famous "damn spot."
Written by William Shakespeare. Directed by José
Carrasquillo. Design: Girogos Tsappas (set) Marie Schneggenburger
(properties and tree sculpting) Ayun Fedorcha (lights) Ray Gniewek
(photography) Gaurav Gopalan (stage manager). Cast: Kathleen Akerley, Denman
C. Anderson, Manshu Chang, Daniel Eichner, Heather Haney, Jay Hardee,
Christopher Henley, Sasha Olinick, Lee Ordeman, Ashely Robinson.
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March 29 - April 29, 2007
Edward III
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 2:25 - one
intermission
A thoroughly satisfying production of a play only recently believed
to be by Shakespeare
Click here to buy the script |
Never mind whether Shakespeare wrote this "history play" or if it was the
product of some other pen. Joe Banno's staging of this rarely seen
sixteenth-century mixture of romance and war is a brisk, entertaining
evening with a striking and consistent sense of style and a number of
terrific performances. Of course, if you are at all interested in the
portion of the Bard's output that concentrated on the history of English
monarchs from King John through two Richards and four Henry's, the
opportunity to see rather than merely read this Bard-ish play is a treat.
Banno mounts it in modern dress with a distinctly modern but intriguingly
bare set and finds ways to keep the action moving along smartly while giving
key players and key scenes sharply delineated moments. As the King, Bruce
Alan Rauscher is superb. He has a fine blend of royal pride and human frailty
and delivers a hugely entertaining performance. Both
the women in Edward's life, his queen and the Countess he covets, are made more
than mere playthings in the performances of Callie Kimball and Karen Novack.
Jason McCool's youthful enthusiasm as Edward's son, the Prince of Wales
known as "The Black Prince" is quite effective as well.
Storyline: The forces of Edward III, King of England in the fourteenth
century, conquer Scotland to his north and rescue the imprisoned Countess of
Salisbury. Edward is immediately smitten with her but there are two objects
in the way of a love affair - her husband and his wife. War is on the
horizon as well to the east where the French King John stands in England's
way to continental power. Edward, distracted by his desire for the Countess
and determined to give his son, "The Black Prince," a chance to earn glory on
a battlefield, wages a longer and more costly war than he expected.
Edward III was first published in 1596, some four
years after Shakespeare was first referred to as an "Upstart Crow" in the
theatrical community of London. It didn't have any author listed - something
that wasn't too rare at a time preceding copyright laws. Indeed, what would
today be called "pirated copies" were the first written record of most of
Shakespeare's plays and the famous "first folio" of his works came out in
1623, eight years after his death. The 1596 printing was titled The
Raigne of King Edward III As it hath bin sundrie times plaied about the City
of London. As with the history plays that are recognized as definitely
by Shakespeare, this possible work of his takes liberties with strict
historical records. However, it's encapsulation of the key events of the
half-century reign of the King who started the Hundred Years War is based on
the history of the rulers of the Plantagenet family as seen through the eyes
of their successors, the Tudors, including Shakespeare's own Tudor Queen,
Elizabeth I.
David Ghatan's set consists of a platform in the
center of the Clark Street Playhouse with the audience placed on four ranks
of seats surrounding the playing space. The octagonal platform is rimmed by
metal swivel chairs so that the platform becomes a giant conference table
around which King Edward conducts his war councils with some of his aides
receiving war news via telephone. There's no confusing just who is King
here. Wherever Rauscher goes, an aide brings along an ermine cloth to drape
over his chair.
You wouldn't need that ermine clue, however, for
Rauscher's demeanor is consistently that of the man in charge. He's
comfortable with his royalty and expects the world to move in his preferred
path. Novack's strong-willed and wily Countess blends the dignity of her
character with a clear intelligence and the ability to see some of the
ironic humor in her plight. She's every bit a match for Rauscher. Kimball,
as his wife, doesn't have that much to do but she does it with flare, and
McCool captures the adventurousness of youth in his eyes both as he gets his
initial assignment to the battlefield and when he returns in triumph. The
large cast - twenty-five credited actors in the program - offers many nicely
tuned smaller roles including a striking King John played with dignity by
Chuck Young.
Written by William Shakespere (?). Directed by Joe
Banno. Design: David C. Ghatan (set) Erin K. Sutton (costumes) Andrew
F. Griffin (lights) W. Kavanaugh Latiolais (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography)
Jenn Carlson (stage manager) Cast: Barbara K. Asare-Bediako, elisha efua
bartels, Bryan Cassidy, Brian Crane, Evan Crump, Kim Curtis, Parker Dixon,
Daniel Eichner, John Geoffrion, Elizabeth Jernigan, Callie Kimball, Jennifer
Lutz, Jason McCool, Christine Millette, Karen Novack, Joe Palka, Bruce Alan
Rauscher, Brian Razzino, Francisco Reinoso, Arthur Rowan, Brian Rubiano,
Mundy Spears, Miyuki Williams, Abby Wood, Chuck Young. |
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October 26 - December 3, 2006
Equus
Reviewed by
Brad Hathaway |
Running time 2:35 - one intermission
t
A Potomac Stages Pick for a raw psycho-drama performed
with intensity and intelligence
v
Includes nudity
Click here to buy the script |
Its pretty raw stuff that
Lee Mikeska Gardner presents in the hall we thought might well have been
demolished by now. Thank goodness the wreckers' ball has been put off for at
least another season. Gardner directs Jay Hardee and Christopher Henley in
Peter Shaffer’s disturbing exploration of psychiatric abnormality. The
results are raw in the very best sense of the word. The sense I
mean is the 9th definition in the dictionary ("not subtle, restrained or
refined," as in "the raw power of music"), but it is the one that clearly
applies. From the opening image of a naked man parading around with a horse
head sculpture through to the final exhausted denouement after a horrific
visage of (again naked) violence, and all that goes in between, Gardner
presents a progressively disturbing exposition of both psychiatric
aberration on the part of the patient and the hubris of the psychiatric
establishment that might presume to "cure" the causes of unacceptable in
human behavior at too high a cost.
Storyline: A psychiatrist with a few
psychological problems of his own is assigned the case of a teenager
arrested after having blinded five horses at the riding academy where he
worked as a stable boy. The psychiatrist establishes a level of trust with
the boy as he also obtains information from the boy’s parents and his
employer. A picture emerges of just why the boy would do what he did.
The play by Peter
Shaffer, author of such divergent material as the penetrating study of
genius, Amadeus, and the comedy Lettice and Lovage, is a
fascinating piece of work that builds two simultaneous psychological
portraits; that of the boy and that of the doctor. The boy's act of violence
and his withdrawal into an uncommunicative state presents the doctor with a
unique and challenging task. First he must determine what triggered the
events and then figure out what to do for the lad. What sets Shaffer's work
apart from other whodunits, or even whydunits, is that it challenges the
assumption that curing abnormality is a good thing. It isn't that the doctor
is faced with a "cure worse than the condition" situation. It is that the
condition involves the boy's capacity for "worship," the source of the
"rapture" that gives meaning to his existence. Can science be justified
if it destroys such capacities in order to control aberrant behavior?
Jay Hardee demonstrates again his uncanny ability to
sink so deeply into a character that the line between actor and acted blurs
completely. He's fascinating both in his periods of repressed emotion, when
he seems an explosion waiting to happen, and during the final horrible
release of energy and emotion. As staged here, he must fling himself into
that final explosion naked from the waist down but there is practically no
indication that he - or his character - is aware of being exposed. The
effect is magnetic. As the doctor, Christopher Henley takes a much more
intellectual approach, which is precisely the way Shaffer wrote it. He's
troubled and tortured. On opening night he was also suffering from a
terrible case of nasal congestion but still managed to deliver not just the
text of the part but the meaning of it as well. Cam Magee and Bruce Alan Rauscher contribute substantially as the boys' parents - she so devout in
her religious convictions and he an agnostic. Now there's a conflict to
bedevil any young man growing up in their household.
Abby Wood's set design is an exercise in effective
minimalism. The flexible space at the Clark Street Playhouse is configured
as a theater in the round with four banks of seats surrounding a square
playing area which is bare except for two chairs, a small round platform and
bales of hay. Straw is sprinkled around the perimeter. Hanging from chains
overhead are three metal horse head sculptures. The feeling of intimacy is
enhanced be the nearly unnoticed fact that only about half of the space in
that large room is actually used. Black drapes closing it in, making the
theater smaller. Artificial mist from a fogger turns every lamp in Eric
Dixon's lighting design into a shaft of light, with those focused on the
sculptures projecting horse head shadows on the black walls in the corners
to mark the area as a sort of primitive temple to the equine. Rapture,
indeed.
Written by Peter Shaffer. Directed by Lee Mikeska
Gardner. Design: Abby Wood (set) William Fisher (costumes) Eric Dixon
(lights) David Crandall (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Zachary W. Ford
(stage manager). Cast: elisha efua bartels, Kim Curtis, Jay Hardee,
Christopher Henley, Cam Magee, Denise Marois-Wolf, Adrienne Nelson, Bruce
Alan Rauscher, Joe Tippett. |
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June 1 - July
2, 2006
The
Children's Hour |
Running time 2:05 - one intermission
An unorthodox reinterpretation of a 1934 drama featuring cross-gender
casting
Click here to buy the script |
All productions have strengths and weaknesses and this is no exception. Its
strengths include a number of fine performances, especially from Cam Magee
who is very good in one of the two leading roles for adult actresses. It is
an efficient streamlining of a normally three-act, two and a half hour play
into a two-act two-hour performance. (Just why anyone would want to
streamline it is not at all clear.) However it is its key weakness that is
the defining element of the production, and that is fatal. In an apparent
effort to turn a play about the universal issue of the damage a lie can
wreak into a play about the right to privacy of people who may have
unconventional sexual urges, director H. Lee Gable turns the casting on its
head and presents actor Christopher Henley in the other leading role for an
adult actress. His performance is highly mannered with much swishing of hips
and fluttering of hands. Whether you accept the mannerisms or not, however,
isn't the point. The point is that the casting of a male in the role
unbalances the entire piece, alters the message and generally does violence
to Lillian Hellman's first effort as a playwright.
Storyline: A disturbed student at a
struggling private girls school destroys the lives of the school's
proprietors by making allegations of sexual impropriety.
Lillian Hellman's 1934 drama used the
then-scandalous topic of lesbianism not as a subject, but as a tool in her
drama of the damage a lie can do. It established her as a major playwright,
setting the stage for The Little Foxes, Watch on the Rhine, and
Candide. It was an example of the kind of
naturalistic writing so popular in the second third of the twentieth
century. It was strongly plotted and peopled with characters with marked strengths and
weaknesses. The story was told in a series of scenes that were both interesting in their
own right and carried the plot forward in a literal, linear manner. It built
to an emotional climax all the more affecting because the audience cares
deeply for the people to whom it is happening. It is not well served
in this production by the effort to turn the tool into the theme.
The production starts well enough, with a scene
dominated by Suzanne Richard as the unwelcome relative sponging off her
niece who is played by Henley. Richard is superb in her first scene and very
good in what seems to be a highly truncated version of her last scene. Also
impressive are Annie Houston who has but one misstep playing the heavy - the
grandmother who believes her granddaughter's lie about the proprietors of
the girl's school and takes the actions which ruin their lives. (Her misstep
is the all-too-rapid acceptance of the first piece of evidence that the
granddaughter might be lying. Hellman specifically provided multiple clues
in her script so that the character could absorb the possibility of a lie
over time.) William Aitken does some nice work as well as Magee's fiancé who
tries to stick with her through rough times.
Gable indulges in additional unorthodox casting when
he has Jay Hardee in one of the key roles for adolescent girls and then
features actress Dana Edwards as the "Grocery Boy." Hardee is really
quite good as the girl blackmailed into supporting the lie. In his
biographical sketch he points out that he studied cross-gender performance
at Tufts University. Perhaps Henley should have taken the same class.
However, it isn't so much Henley's performance that damages the production
as it is Henley's casting, and this must be laid at the feet of director
Gable.
Written by Lillian Hellman. Directed by H. Lee Gable.
Design: Michael (Misha) Kachman (set) Melanie Clark (costumes) Jason
Cowperthwaite (lights) Ian C. Armstrong (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography)
Zachary W. Ford (stage manager). Cast: William Aitken, Elisha Efua Bartels,
Dana Edwards, Jay Hardee, Christopher Henley, Annie Houston or Jan Boulet,
Cam Magee, Suzanne Richard, Abby Wood. |
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April 13 - May 14, 2006
Richard II |
Reviewed April 19
Running time 2:50 - one intermission
A semi punk styled mounting of a Shakespeare history play
Click here to buy the script |
SCENA Theatre's Robert McNamara puts his stamp on Shakespeare's history
play. That is good news for those who appreciate Mr. McNamara's aesthetic,
but not necessarily for those who appreciate Shakespeare's. While it is
never hard to remember you are watching a Shakespearean play, for the
language is rich and full in the meter of the master and the plot is
convoluted and complex, the staging draws attention away from the strengths
of the play in order to highlight the approach of the director and
accommodate the choices of the designers. In the process, the events of the
1390s come across as something like a gathering of the youths touted in
Hebdige's recent book Subculture: The Meaning of Style, with dark, semi-goth/semi-mod/semi-punk
outfits. Nothing wrong with any of that, of course. But where does that
leave Shakespeare's Richard, Bolingbroke, John of Gaunt, Queen Isabel and
the rest?
Storyline: Richard II, the last King of England of the Plantagenet line,
banishes his cousin Henry Bolingbroke for six years and then confiscates his property
to finance a war in Ireland. While Richard is out of the country pursuing
that unpopular war, Bolingbroke returns as a hero to those who have lost
faith in their king. When Richard returns, Bolingbroke takes him prisoner
and forces his abdication. Bolingbroke becomes the first King of England of
the house of Lancaster, the Henry IV of Shakespeare's next three plays.
McNamara does take a few liberties with the text, but
that is hardly unusual. The play, after all, is a typically lengthy five act
piece that has been tinkered with since at least the 1590s when it was brand
new. In today's director-driven age of theater, the play sometimes seems the
excuse rather than the reason for a production, so McNamara's approach is
scarcely a theatrical revolution. He's streamlined and re-focused where it
fits his view, and presents a solid two-act - or at least two part evening.
Any production of Richard II must have a fine Richard
and a strong Bolingbroke. One or the other is at the focus of practically
every scene. Here, Christopher Henley is mercurial one minute and morose the
next as this manic-depressive King who looses his crown and his life.
Hemmingsen is less satisfying as Bolingbroke, if only because he is called
upon to scowl so much that the future King's strengths, which supposedly
inspire his followers, are hard to discern. He does handle the big speeches
with a sense of class, however, and his physical aversion to the crown
itself provides a powerful image.
Some of the characterizations are overwhelmed by the
visual impact of the design. The fact that Henley's Richard II is in short
pants is not so much a symbol of immaturity as it is a fashion statement -
but what it says isn't quite certain. The painted pattern atop Hemmingsen's
bald pate could be a yarmulke, or a tattoo, or simply a foreshadowing of a
crown, but what is his white face makeup supposed to symbolize?
Kathleen Akerley delivers a performance as Queen Isabel which is all but
obscured by her clothing which consists of skirt and bra. Kim Curtis doubles
as John of Gaunt and the Abbot of Westminster but just which he is when he's
stripped above the waist in a wheel chair is hard to say. The distressed
black and white towering set fits the concept well as does the lighting by
Marianne Meadows who makes good use of florescent lights, something which is
unusual on stage.
Written by William Shakespeare. Directed by Robert
McNamara. Design: A.J. Guban (set) Jennifer Tardiff (costumes) Marianne
Meadows (lights) David Crandall (sound and music) Ray Gniewek (photography)
Eryn Chaney (stage manager). Cast: Kathleen Akerley, Denman C. Anderson, JJ
Area, Kim Curtis, Theo Hadjimichael, Jay Hardee, Rashard Harrison, Brian Hemmingsen, Christopher Henley, Alexandra Hoge, Allan Jirikowic, Richard
Mancini, Ryan McGrath, Adrienne Nelson, Buck O'Leary, Robert Rector, Nick
Scott, Dan Vanhoozer, Steve Whilhite.
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February 9 - March 12, 2006
Death
and the King's Horseman |
Reviewed February 14
Running time 2:40 - one intermission
An elegantly staged, intellectually engaging drama
Click here to buy the script |
In 1986, the Nobel Prize in Literature went to Nigerian playwright Wole Soyinka
for a body of work illuminating the values of his homeland and the history
of the relationships between African and European peoples and cultures. The
announcement of that award cited this play as being "in the nature of an
antique tragedy with the cultic sacrificial death as theme. The relationship
between the unborn, the living and the dead, to which Soyinka reverts
several times in his works, is fashioned here with very strong effect."
Indeed, it is. At least here, in the staging of John Vreeke, the moral force
of Soyinka's argument is well balanced with the dramatic aspect of the story
which, Soyinka assures us, is based on actual events that took place in the
Yoruba city of Oyo in Nigeria in 1946.
Storyline: The King of the Yoruba has died and the time approaches for
the man who has the honor of being the King's Horseman to commit suicide to
accompany him to heaven in the tradition of his tribe. The country, however,
is occupied by the colonialist British who view such traditions as
primitive. They determine to prevent the act with no care for the cultural
consequences of such intervention.
In the "Author's Note" printed in the program, Soyinka
objects to the description of his play as dealing with "a clash of cultures"
because such a label implies some sort of equality between the cultures. He
certainly doesn't straddle the line with an attempt to give balanced
arguments for each side. If you have any doubts as to the opinion of the
author about which of the two cultures is superior, you won't after the
scene between Nanna Ingvarsson as the wife of the British District Officer
and Clifton Alphonzo Duncan as the son of the horseman who efficiently
analyzes the essence of the colonial mindset and eloquently states the case
against it. This one scene, so eloquently written, effectively staged with
Duncan one step above Ingvarsson, and cleanly performed with an honest sense
on both sides of the obvious fundamental truth of their views, delivers the
author's judgment eloquently. The key to its dramatic impact is the honesty
with which the writing puts the pro-colonial view and the sincerity with
which Ingvarsson delivers them. Still, Duncan's elegant responses are all
you need to know about Soyinka's view of the world.
The Horseman here is Felipe Harris. While Soyinka's
text says that the Horseman is "a man of enormous vitality" who "speaks,
dances and sings with that infectious enjoyment of life which accompanies
all his actions," Harris plays it a bit more subdued as a man with a heavy
weight on his shoulders. After all, he has just lost his King and soon will
lose his life in an act of duty as well as honor. That additional layer of
character sets up the final scenes well, but it takes a while for his
performance to settle in. Ian Armstrong throws himself into the posturing
role of the British District Officer (referred to by the horseman as
"ghostly one") while the quiet dignity of Kamil J. Hazel as the horseman's
bride contrasts nicely with the passion of Towanda Underdue as the "Mother
of the Market" who takes the horseman to task for his failures. Richard
Mancini has a marvelous single scene as the embodiment of colonial
superciliousness.
Unlike many productions which seem to line up just the
standard assembly of designers (you can almost hear the producers say "lets
see, we need set, costumes, lights, sound . . . that should do it") the
Washington Shakespeare Company and director Vreeke have obviously approached
this project from scratch, assembling the unique talents needed for this
unique project. Yes, there is the fine set with two circular platforms on a
floor painted with Yoruban designs and the costumes are fine. But the design
team reaches beyond the norm with movement choreography that is fluid and
vital and a sound design that features the music and sounds of both cultures
and especially the drone of distant drums which give the piece a special
resonance. Finally, there is a fabulous piece of film projected on the one
white wall of the theater. Just where could projection designer Erik Trester
have come up with this black and white image of a ball?
Written by Wole Soyinka. Directed by John Vreeke.
Movement choreography by Brooke Kidd. Design: Misha Kachman (set) Genevieve
Williams (costumes) Erik Trester (projections) Ayun Fedorcha (lights)
Matthew Nielson (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Eryn Chaney (stage
manager). Cast: Ian Armstrong, Barbara K. Asare-Bediako, Frank Britton,
Mwangala Changwe, Maurice E. Clemons, Clifton Alphonzo Duncan, Constance
Ejuma, Felipe Harris, Kamil J. Hazel, Letricia Hendrix, Nanna Ingvarsson,
Micha Kemp, Joe Lewis, Richard Mancini, Nick Scott, Towanda Underdue.
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October 27 - December 10, 2005
Hapgood |
Reviewed November 5
Running time 2:20 - one intermission
A fast paced spy mystery
Click here to buy the script
|
Think of a James Bond movie without the cinematic chase scenes, graphic
violence or naked women, but with dialogue that earns the title adult not by
double entendre and innuendo but by literate language and genuine
intelligence. Kathleen Akerley was going to direct a cast including Jenifer Deal, Jay Hardee, Hugh T.
Owen, Jesse Terrill and Brandon Thane Wilson in Tom Stoppard's
end-of-the-Cold War thriller, but Deal was invited to do a show in Solvenia,
so Akerley stepped into the role while Christopher Henley took over
directing duties along with Alexandra Hoge.
Storyline: Someone is leaking secrets from the "Star Wars" program for a
Strategic Missile Defense to the Russians - and British Intelligence is on
the case. Who could be the leak? Is it the double agent - a Russian himself?
Is it a British spy? If so, could it be the boss of the British spy
operation, a woman named Mrs. Hapgood? Or is it all of them - or none
of them?
Tom Stoppard is not known for
simple, uncomplicated stories. Here he merges the advanced physics that the
Star Wars program tried to apply to Strategic Defense with some of its more
advanced projects, and the twists and turns of spy novelists. As Stoppard has
the Russian double agent explain, "The act of observing alters the reality."
It is that concept that seems to have fascinated him and he uses it to spice
up an otherwise fairly routine spy-versus-spy story with neat twists and
turns that can leave the audience bewildered in less capable hands.
Here co-directors Christopher Henley and Alexandra
Hoge, along with assistant director H. Lee Gable, keep the focus clearly on
the storytelling without seeming to presume the audience needs help. It is a
fine line they straddle and they do it well. Rather than stage the script
with constant movement and repeated quick shifts of tone, they stop the
action from time to time to concentrate on the dialogue, especially when it
deals with the science involved. As if to compensate, the physical design of
the set is slick, with its gleaming black floor, its black and chrome
sliding panels and a trio of furniture pieces that are moved about to create
locales from a bath house to Hapgood's office.
There is plenty of fine acting to enjoy as well.
Kathleen Akerley is the lady whose name is the title. She captures the
efficient assurance of a chief secure in her position (especially as decked
out in Melanie Clark's spot-on executive suit) and then reveals a more
earthy side when her world begins to come apart. Bruce Alan Rauscher is a
pleasure to watch as he delivers much of the scientific explanation with a
sense of real excitement over particle physics and the ways in which light
behaves at a fundamental level. Hugh T. Owen mixes it up with a sharp
portrayal of one of Hapgood's operatives and Ian Armstrong gets suitably
officious as the agent investigating the leak. Ben Wates adds a touch of
class early on simply by observing all the comings and goings in the opening
scene and then reporting crisply what he and we have just seen . . . only to
find it wasn't quite as clear as it seemed. Fun!
Written by Tom Stoppard. Directed by Christopher
Henley and Alexandra Hoge. Assistant Direction by H. Lee Gable. Design:
Elizabeth Jenkins McFadden (set) Melanie Clark (costumes) Nick Scott
(properties) Jason Arnold
(lights) Erik Trester (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Jenn Carlson (stage
manager). Cast: Kathleen Akerley, Ian Armstrong, Michael Dove, Jay Hardee,
Hugh T. Owen, Bruce Alan Rauscher, Nick Scott, Theodore M. Snead, Brandon
Thane Wilson. |
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July 21
- August 28,
2005
The
Royal Hunt of the Sun |
Reviewed August 4
Running time 2:30 - one intermission
A spectacle of the clash between cultures
Click here to buy the script |
Obviously, Steven Scott Mazzola doesn't know it takes mega-bucks to produce
an epic. He seems convinced that all you need is talent, skill and
determination. You know what? He's right - and he's assembled a team with
those attributes in greater and lesser amounts to mount a spotty but
wholly worthwhile version of a play that most other theaters wouldn't touch
without a gigantic checkbook. It's a play that treats historical events
rarely seen on the stages of English speaking countries. It raises issues
which are sadly still relevant nearly five hundred years later. It isn't
produced very often precisely because so many theaters would only touch it
with deep pockets so the Potomac theater community is indebted to the
Washington Shakespeare Company for this chance to see the play produced.
Storyline: 167 Spaniards under the leadership of Francisco Pizarro invade
the empire of the Incas in search of gold. They take the sovereign,
Atahuallpa, hostage and hold him for a ransom of a room full of gold which
his subjects surrender. They execute him anyway so that he cannot lead his
nation against them as they return to Panama to sail back to Spain.
The play builds on history
but isn't really an effort to put historical accuracy on stage. The events
over the four years of Pizarro's conquest of the Inca empire in what is now
Ecuador and Peru are collapsed into a tight story framed by a prologue and
epilogue delivered by an impressive Jim Jorgensen whose strength has always
seemed to be his way with a monologue. In the prologue he promises an answer
to how 167 Spaniards prevailed over a nation of 24 million, but the play
never really gets into many of the forces involved. There's no mention of
the smallpox which the Spaniards carried which decimated the Incas. There's
only passing reference to the power of firearms that they also carried with
almost as much impact. Instead, author Peter Shaffer (Equus, Amadeus)
was much more interested in the conflict of cultures and he painted the
indigenous population as "noble savages" in contrast to the greed-driven
insensitive invaders.
The large cast provides an uneven
range of portrayals. James Foster, Jr. takes some time for his
performance as Pizarro to achieve much depth, but it ends up nicely tuned. In
keeping with Shaffer's view of events (at least as directed by Mazzola) the
real strength of the evening comes from the performance of Peter Pereyra as
the noble Atahuallpa. He could have gone overboard and made this into a
cartoon of a character, but instead, keeps it just human enough to be
touching. Unfortunately, Daniel Ladmirault found no such boundary and
takes his performance as the cruel piety-spouting priest to over-simplified
extremes. Of particular note is the work of Matt Mezzacappa as the young
page to Pizarro. His part calls for him to listen to others quite a lot
which is never an easy thing for an actor to do without causing distractions.
He does this well,
and yet he switches with ease to scenes where he must be more active.
There are impressive contributions
from the off-stage creative team as well. Mariano Vales has composed a
compelling score giving distinct feelings to the scenes involving native and
invading people. Matthew Soule is very inventive within the constraints of
his set design budget, using a length of tapestry that unrolls to present
different backgrounds and a shimmering gold curtain for the mounting ransom.
The cumulative effect of the visual and sonic designs is to focus attention
on the content of the play rather than distract with spectacle. Hardly
Hollywood's approach to an epic - but a very good one for this company and the
Clark Street Playhouse.
Written by Peter Shaffer. Directed
by Steven Scott Mazzola. Original music composed by Mariano Vales.
Choreography by Krissie Marty. Fight choreography by John Gurski. Design: Matthew Soule (set) Cynthia Abel Thom (costumes) Eleanor
Gomberg (properties) Ayun Fedorcha (lights) Matthew Nielson (sound) Ray
Gniewek (photography) Karen Currie (stage manager). Cast: William Aitken,
Leslie Sarah Cohen, Brian Crane, Edward Daniels, James Foster, Jr., Chris
Galindo, Theo Hadjimichael, Katherine E. Hill, Jim Jorgensen, Daniel
Ladmirault, Steve Lee, Matt Mezzacappa, Peter Pereyra, Alex Perez, Francisco
Reinoso, Beth Madeline Rubens, Nick Scott, Michael Sherman, Addison Swtizer,
Shane Wallis. |
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June 2
- July 3,
2005
Medea |
Reviewed June 7|
Running time 1:45 no intermission
A stylish staging of a classic |
Jose Carrasquillo and Paul MacWhorter re-unite as co-directors to take on a
play that has maintained the power to fascinate for some 2,500 years. While
their staging isn't an attempt to re-create classic Greek tragedy with its
masks, togas, staid postures and the like, it isn't a contemporary
take either. It aims for a timelessness, delving into emotions and
motivations and making no effort to turn them into some fashion of the day.
The result is a satisfying and at times fascinating presentation, which, for
all its flair and despite some very solid performances, refuses to ignite
with the impact the final terrible acts should have.
Storyline: Medea, a former princess, has abandoned her
homeland to marry Jason of Argonaut fame who she helped steal her country's
proudest possession, the fabled golden fleece. Now, after she has borne his
children, he has cast her off in favor of another. She takes awful
vengeance, causing the death of her rival. She knows she will pay for the
crime but is much more concerned that the children she had with Jason will
be the targets of revenge. To prevent that she slays them herself.
When the title of a tragedy by Euripides is a
character's name you can be sure it is a part with enough meat on it to fill
the house with sorrow. Right now we have two examples on display in the
Potomac Region, Vanessa Redgrave is holding forth in Hecuba just across the
river at the Kennedy Center, while Delia Taylor is Medea here in Arlington.
(Seeing both shows can be something of an over-dose of dead children!)
Taylor can be searing in her anguish and she can be incredibly intense. Both
skills serve her well here. Whether hers or her directors' choice, the Medea
she creates seems less royal and therefore less regal than might be expected
of a former princess brought to Greece in glory before being wronged. The
result is more an "everywoman" approach that concentrates on the motivation
for the slaying of her own children as protection rather than revenge.
Carrasquillo and MacWhorter, along with set designer
Giorgos Tsappas, create a striking environment for the tragedy, a circular
platform suggesting, but not quite imitating, the central playing space of a
classic Greek theater. Here, however, the platform is a subdued blood red
and contains a sand-filled pit which could be a sand box for the kids, a pit
for blood sports or a piece of the desert removed from civilization to which
Medea's plight condemns her. It is all those things and more. An inspired
piece of staging is the use of Marie Schneggenburger's puppets - dolls,
really - for the children. Their presence, either on the side of the
platform observing the actions of the grownups or in the arms of their tutor
played with touching honesty by Richard Mancini, gives a focus to the
impending horror that permeates the piece.
Each of the players work as part of the Greek Chorus
as well as taking on named roles and each adds another layer to the texture
of the piece. Kathleen Akerley adds a strength,
Christopher Henley an otherworldliness and Alexander Strain a touch of
intrigue, while Jenifer Deal, who is cross-cast as Jason, gets a chance to
sink her teeth into another meaty part. Only Debbie Minter Jackson, as one
of the women of the court, seems to have nothing much to add beyond the
scope of her role as a woman of the court. However, they all contribute to the
haunting sound of the production as the chorus whispers, hums and cries in a
most otherworldly manner, creating a score that is neither music nor
electronic effect but becomes the very atmosphere of the world in which the
play plays out.
Written by Euripides. Translated by Alistair Elliot.
Adapted and directed by Jose Carrasquillo and Paul MacWhorter. Design:
Giorgos Tsappas (set) Melanie Clark (costumes) Marie Schneggenburger
(puppets) Ayun Fedorcha (lights) Ray Gniewek (photography) Meg Taintor
(stage manager). Cast: Kathleen Akerley, Jenifer Deal, Christopher Henley,
Debbie Minter Jackson, Richard Mancini, Alexander Strain, Delia Taylor.
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March 3
- April 3,
2005
The
Milk Train Doesn't Stop Here Anymore |
Reviewed March 8
Running time 2:50 - one intermission
General admission seating
Brief nudity viewed from behind
Click here to buy the script |
Two years ago this company mounted Tennessee Williams'
The Night of the Iguana in a
production noteworthy for its atmosphere of decadence and decay as well as
for the performance of Christopher Henley. Now the company turns to a rarely
performed Williams play and Henley switches from performer to director. This
time it doesn't work as well, as the production fails to create any real
atmosphere at all. Perhaps that is a reflection of the script's lack of
consistency and atmospheric balance. Henley tries to get things moving,
through the now-overused device of having an actor portraying Williams
himself appearing to narrate using the stage directions from the script, the
piece begins to feel academic, as if being put before you to be studied
instead of experienced.
Storyline: On a hilltop overlooking Italy's Divina Costiera, a dying
elderly woman is visited by a mysterious man with a history of approaching
wealthy dying elderly women. His presence stimulates her to contemplate her
life but that hardly seems necessary since she happens to be dictating her
memoirs to her secretary.
Perhaps the absence of
satisfying atmosphere and narrative clarity in this production shouldn't be
judged too harshly. After all, the play was a failure both times it was
attempted on Broadway. Today it is better known for the casts that have
performed it than for its own quality. The aging woman was briefly a role
for Tallulah Bankhead on stage (with Tab Hunter as the enigmatic stranger)
and later in a movie (titled "Boom!") for Elizabeth Taylor with Richard
Burton. Henley has a haughty Annie Houston paired with a mysterious Hough T.
Owen voicing Williams' sometimes inscrutable dialogue.
Physically, this production
seems rather disjointed with a number of different set areas in the spacious
Clark Street Playhouse. One of those areas is the writing room of "TW"
played by Steve Wilhite, who sets the scene in stage directions and then
follows the events in the draft as if giving one final read to his creation
before sending it off to wherever famous playwrights send their scripts.
He's so far to the rear of the playing space, however, that his voice
becomes echoey and difficult to follow.
Houston gives the role of
the dying woman a stately presence and Owen seems comfortable with the
inscrutable. Suzanne Richard makes an impression as "The Witch of Capri" but
the meaning of her presence is rarely clear. Marybeth Fritzky seems the only
really normal person in the collection as the old lady's secretary. Williams
experimented with many theatrical traditions in assembling this play,
including Japanese kabuki represented by two stage assistants that scamper
around in their black robes with red fans. With such disparate elements in
Williams' creation it is no wonder that this production can't establish a
consistent feel.
Written by Tennessee
Williams. Directed by Christopher Henley. Design: Eric Grims (set) Melanie
Clark (costumes) Heidi Volf (properties) Jason Arnold (lights) David Lamont
Wilson (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Laura Rozmeski (stage manager).
Cast: Marybeth Fritzky, Chris Galindo, Jay Hardee, Annie Houston, Hugh T.
Owen, Suzanne Richard, Alexander Strain, Heidi Volf, Steve Wilhite, Katrina
Wiskup.
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November 11 - December 31,
2004
Titus
Andronicus |
Reviewed November 16
Running time 2:30 - one intermission
Caution: strong themes and
nudity
Click here to buy the script
|
If slasher movies are your thing, you would do
well to make sure you see this production of Shakespeare's possibly ugliest
and certainly bloodiest play. The Washington Shakespeare Company does the
piece justice, giving its dramatic story a compelling recitation and
bringing most of the characters to well thought out life, clarifying their
motivations and making everything proceed in an understandable progression
of vengeful atrocities that escalates in a bloody contest of one-upsmanship.
It is made all the more horrendous because the victims - and here everyone
is a victim - are more than mere cartoon figures set up as targets for
inventive new ways to horrify, maim and kill. They are human beings about
whom you can care: not like, you understand, but care.
Storyline: A conquering general returning in triumph to Rome is immersed
in the politics of the empire in the wake of the death of the emperor. He is
proclaimed the new emperor but refuses the post, naming one of the former
emperor's sons in his stead, but unleashing a flood of jealousies that
involve his five remaining sons (he's already lost 21 in wars!), his
daughter, the family of the late emperor and the queen of the land he
conquered whom he has brought home in chains along with her entire family.
Each act of violence begets another, gorier and more inventive atrocity, an escalation that includes rape, maiming, mayhem, torture, disfigurement
and cannibalism.
You know you're in
for an evening of ugly things early on when the on-stage toilet is
simultaneously used for its biological function and for a forced head
dipping, but unless you've read the script, seen the movie (Julie Taymor
made a movie of the play which is nothing like The Lion King) or
attended the rock musical version by Shawn Northrip that played at Source a
few years ago, you won't be prepared for the ugliness of the horrors
committed in this exploration of just how inhuman humans can get.
Shakespeare was quite inventive in his visions of revenge, but director Joe Banno adds a few inventive touches of his own. After all there were no
plastic and steel paper cutters available in 1591 when the young bard
(probably collaborating with another playwright) wrote the play based
perhaps in part on the vividly titled poem
"A Lamentable Ballad of the Tragical End of a Gallant Lord and of his
Beautiful Lady, With the Untimely Death of Their Children, Wickedly
Performed by a Heathen Blackamore, Their Servant: The Like Seldom Heard
Before." That sort of says it.
Banno assembles a large cast for the eighteen
named characters in this version. Returning to the Clark Street Playhouse in
the title role is Ian Armstrong who lacks the imposing stature and presence
the role calls for at the start. He looks more like a quartermaster than a
commanding General in his U.S. Army uniform in this production which is
presented as if in modern times. As the evening progresses (or is that
regresses?) Armstrong captures the character's descent into vengeful madness
quite well. He draws well-formed characterizations from Alexander Strain as
the late emperor's eldest son, and Arthur Rowan as his younger brother and John-Michael MacDonald as Titus' brother. The pack of sons, most fated to die
before the evening is out, along with those of of the conquered Queen of the goths (played with delightful menace by Rahaleh Nassri) feature fine work by
the likes of Jon Reynolds, Cesar A. Guadamuz and Chris Galindo. Young
Brandon Thane Wilson continues to impress, this time in the dual roles of
Titus' youngest son and the queen's own ill-fated offspring. The most
ill-fated of all, however, is Titus' daughter Lavinia. Kate Siegelbaum
manages to keep the character human throughout the most vile abuse - she's
the one who's raped, has her hands and her tongue cut out and is left
naked and bleeding to be discovered by her family.
Set designer Matt Soule has done striking
work here, creating a dozen different playing spaces around the perimeter of
Clark Street's large playhouse with the audience dispersed between them.
Across the center space he has created an elevated runway that serves as
everything from debate platform for the Roman process of selecting a new
emperor to banquet table where the ultimate feast of vengeance is served.
Such a sprawling assemblage of settings is a challenge for any lighting
designer. Marianne Meadows rises to that challenge not just managing to make
the areas visible but creating an atmosphere for each that increases the
impact of the scenes. There is a great deal of quality work to be enjoyed
here by anyone who thinks they can stomach the gore.
Written by William Shakespeare. Directed by
Joe Banno. Design: Matt Soule (set) Melanie Clark (costumes) Rebecca Trotter
(properties) Arthur Rowan (fight choreography) Marianne Meadows (lights)
David Lamont Wilson (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Karen Currie (stage
manager). Cast: Ian Armstrong, Chris Galindo, Daniel Eichner, Cesar A.
Guadamuz, Jay Hardee, John-Michael MacDonald, Eric Messner, Rahaleh Nassri,
Jon Reynolds, Suzanne Richard, Arthur Rowan, Kate Siegelbaum, Alexander
Strain, Brandon Thane Wilson, David Lamont Wilson. |
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August
5 - September 5, 2004
The
Tempest |
Reviewed August 10
Running time 2:50 - one intermission
Click here to buy the script |
Christopher Henley directs Shakespeare’s last play, the fantasy-romance
which seems to attract directors and designers with a keen eye for stage
pictures. Henley certainly puts a premium on the visual elements of the
production, although, with a cast this strong, neither the text nor the
characters are shorted. However, time and again throughout the rather
lengthy evening, the audience's focus is pulled away from either an
important event for the plot or a particularly pertinent piece of dialogue
by a distracting activity. The vast playing space of the Clark Street
Playhouse is set up with audience on three sides of the former
warehouse which requires constant attention to blocking to avoid giving
anyone in the audience the impression they are watching from behind the
action. Henley does a credible job of this. Only in one scene, when Jenifer Deal is center stage emoting from a platform, does it appear that a
character is rotating simply to accommodate the shape of the house.
Storyline: Deposed Duke Prospero, abandoned on a desert island lo these
dozen years, sees his opportunity for justice when his usurper passes by in
a ship. Prospero, who has used his time studying sorcery, conjures up a
fierce storm during which his usurper's party abandons their foundering ship and
washes up on his island. Prospero's daughter falls in love with the usurper's
son. The usurper
and his entourage get involved in many schemes as Prospero's revenge
proceeds, but all are reconciled through the love of parents for children and
children for each other.
Jenifer Deal is this production's Prospero.
This gender switch is of no consequence at all and it allows Deal the
opportunity to sink her teeth into a meaty role with gusto. She plays this
deposed duke as a blind sorcerer with a towering dignity and a sense of
assurance that dominates the play even when she's off stage. Other
gender switches among the cast such as Meg Taintor as Prospero's brother
(sister?), Antonio, seem less natural.
Supporting Deal are some standout performers,
Scott Kerns, Daniel Ladmirault, Chris Galindo and Saskia de Vriesto to
name but a few. Kerns is a delight to watch as the "airy spirit" Ariel whose
presence emphasizes the magic of the fantasy. He's accompanied by Regina
Aquino and John Reynolds as companion spirits, with Aquino in red and Reynolds
in blue contrasting with Kerns white outfit. These two also play the ships'
crew and Reynolds is particularly good at rendering the bard's iambic
pentameter in the guttural accent of so many pirate movies. Ladmirault
displays a gift for emphasizing the word play of Shakespeare's text while
scampering about as a sly slave. Galindo and de Vries make an appealing pair
of young lovers capturing the essence of just why this pair has been one of
the most popular of Shakespeare's many pairs of infatuated youngsters. de
Vries' instantaneous reaction to the sight of the first male of her own age
she had ever seen is innocence personified.
As with most of his later works, Shakespeare
blends many subplots and subsidiary characters into a heady brew with
fathers and their children, dukes and kings, councilors and butlers, slaves,
sprites and spirits. Many directors rely on their design team to help keep
it all straight with different color schemes or patterns for different
elements. In this production, however, there seems to be no discernable
scheme. Instead there is an overall look that emphasizes the fantasy nature
of the story without subdivisions or even a consistency of time period.
Kerns' silver sneakers, Galindo's undershirt, Ladmirault's Caribbean skirt,
Joe Baker's tropical shirt - none of these seem to identify thematic
threads. Still, the visual impact of the show is a satisfying one,
especially David C. Ghatan's effective lighting of his own set design.
Written by William Shakespeare. Directed by
Christopher Henley. Design: David C. Ghatan (set and lights) William Fisher
(costumes) Kim Deane (sound) Ray Gniewek (photography) Elizabeth Welke (stage manager). Cast: Regina
Aquino, Joe Baker, Jenifer Deal, Saskia de Vries, Chris Galindo, Cesar A.
Guadamuz, Scott Kerns, Daniel Ladmirault, Monique LaForce, Paul McLane, Anne
Nottage, Jon Reynolds, Alexander Strain, Meg Taintor, Genevieve Williams,
Katrina Wiskup. |
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April 15 - May
22, 2004
Waiting for Godot |
Reviewed May 6
Running time 2 hours 25 minutes
t A Potomac
Stages Pick for three superb performances |
This is probably the finest production of this
important and highly entertaining play you will have the opportunity to see
for quite a long time. Dorothy Neumann has returned to direct the play as
she did with this company in 1994. She has two of her original cast members, Brian Hemmingsen and Richard Mancini,
as well as Christopher Henley, Bruce Britton
and Peter Pereyra. (Joe Baker will take over for Pereyra this weekend.) The team of Hemmingsen and Henley comes across as a
perfect pair for this absurdist classic, combining comedy that induces as
many smiles as outright laughs with an underlying humanity that is warm and
welcoming. The play is now running in repertory
with Lady Chatterley's Lover.
Storyline: Two befuddled characters wait for
the arrival of a mysterious person. Their lives don't seem to have much
purpose but they seem to believe that this Mr. Godot will provide answers to
what they should be doing and why. In the meantime, they try to find ways to
fill their day. The monotony is broken by a chance encounter with a stranger
and his servant or slave. When a messenger delivers the word that Mr. Godot
won't be coming today, all they have to do is wait for tomorrow.
Henley and Hemmingsen start out as something of
a Laurel and Hardy team with Hemmingsen giving the Hardy role a touch of
pathos and Henley orbiting him in precise movements and manners. But as the
evening proceeds, Hemmingsen deepens the character and Henley approaches a
Chaplinesque comedy of posture, movement and mannerism that is captivating.
Each is a delight on his own - witness Henley scratching his chin in thought
or Hemmingsen tumbling about in an effort to take off a shoe -- but as a team
they amplify each other's strengths gloriously. From the lightning timing of
challenges and retorts to slapstick routines like the exchange of derbies
that gives new meaning to the term "hat trick" this is an act not to be
missed.
Richard Mancini is also very impressive as
the servant/slave with the ironic name of "Lucky." His is a part that
requires him to be mute and to approach a standing comatose state, calling
for a mime-like first half. But his character is energized by another bit
with a hat and, suddenly, the cast can't shut him up. Few roles in the
standard literature call for such an abrupt and complete change and Mancini
not only turns it on and off with precision, he sets it up so well with his
early struggle just to stay on his feet that it is all the more effective.
Steve Wilhite, on the other hand, doesn't quite find the tone for his part
of the strange visitor until well into the play.
The "action" of this play famous for the
absence of meaningful action takes place on a nicely abstract set consisting
of a circular platform with two ramps, a partition and a single tree
designed by Misha Kachman in highly theatrical style. Painted a splotchy
gray-white, the entire space takes on a look reminiscent of faded white-face
makeup -- just the right look for this piece of whimsy with substance.
Written by Samuel Beckett. Directed by Dorothy
Neumann. Design: Misha Kachman (set) Howard Vincent Kurtz (costumes)
Katherine Osborn (p | |