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It was easier for cavemen and cavewomen. They were ignorant about many things and didn’t have the internet, so they just did what they had to do to survive; no adjustments necessary. Today, though we think we are freer than cave people, there are all kinds of social signals we’d rather ignore; especially men.
Defending the Cavemen attempts to explain, in a humorous way, why the sexes evolved differently: the men were hunters with laser focus on the goal, the women gatherers who were multi-taskers and noticed everything. Hence, men are deaf to all else when watching television and women are terrific shoppers. Okay, that’s a bit over-simplified, but it’s true that men and women look at the world differently.
Michael Van Osch, a likable, low-key everyman, performs the show using himself as the male example and his wife as the female example. A short video is shown at the beginning, and there are lighting and sound cues, but basically it’s the audience and Michael together commiserating about our lack of understanding the opposite sex. There are some very funny lines, and it’s mostly laughter of recognition (and our own insensitivity), that keeps the show light.
We’re cautioned that the show is for mature audiences. Though some strong language is used and there is talk about sex, the show is not blue, especially by today’s standards. Defending the Caveman has become a worldwide hit, and so it has to appeal to a wide audience. When it was first conceived, it probably was more cutting edge than it is now, but that’s not to say it’s not enjoyable entertainment, or that it doesn’t spark interesting conversations. One thing both men and women share: we love to hear about ourselves.
The “hunters and gatherers” in the audience seemed to thoroughly take pleasure in the show, elbow nudges and all. Review by Ann Marie Oliva
Ann Marie Oliva is a local playwright and freelance writer. She is the producer/editor of ARTS à la Mode and a judge for the National Youth Theatre Awards. Ann Marie is a member of the Dramatists Guild.
The Tarradiddle Players were in fine form opening night for ‘Tis the Season, a compilation of stories, songs, and festive goings-on at the Wachovia Playhouse. The four talented Players: Salvador Garcia, Leslie Ann Giles, Darlene Parker, and Stephen Seay give their usual high-energy, broad performances that appeal to children and adults alike.
There are several holiday stories from around the world that include outwitting Spanish soldiers, guarding a hen house from a fox, a Cherokee solstice story, and Mrs. Claus coming to the rescue to save Christmas. The sing-alongs are infectious, with the kids needing little prompting to join in.
The only minor misstep is at the beginning of the show when “Sal” refuses to come out because he thinks he looks like a certain green vegetable. When he does enter, it takes a while to register what he is talking about. The cheerful wardrobe by Sandra Gray consists of costumes that look like a cross between a clown and an elf, with two red and two dark green one-piece outfits. But, from my perspective in the audience (maybe it’s a lighting issue?) the dark green outfits almost look black. So, the joke isn’t obvious.
Yet, director Steven Ivey keeps the pace moving, and the four Players show plenty of spunk with several mischievous characters messing up, which the kids especially like to see. The utilitarian set design, also by Sandra Gray, is a good backdrop for multiple scenes, and the props by Peter Smeal enhance the skits and stories.
‘Tis the Season will get the family in the holiday mood. Good cheer is contagious. Review by Ann Marie Oliva
Ann Marie Oliva is a local playwright and freelance writer. She is the producer/editor of ARTS à la Mode and a judge for the National Youth Theatre Awards. Ann Marie is a member of the Dramatists Guild.
It all started with If You Give a Mouse a Cookie in 1985. Laura Numeroff’s first “If You Give A” book was a simple “circle” story that comes back to the beginning. Since then she has followed with more in the series and in 2000 published the Christmas themed, If You Take a Mouse to the Movies.
If you have read these short books to your children you might wonder how anyone could make a one hour play out of this material for our youngest theatre goers. Well, you have to start with good acting, fine directing, technical savvy, and loads of imagination. Fortunately, Children’s Theatre of Charlotte provides all of that, and creates a delightful experience that hopefully helps nurture a love of performing arts in our children.
The story follows the picture book closely with the Mouse (Nicia Carla) and the Boy (Mark Sutton) at Christmas time. The Mouse has a very short attention span and races from one thing to another creating havoc and causing the Boy to have to be the responsible one (you can’t expect a mouse to be responsible, can you?). They decide to go to the movies and Mouse asks for popcorn, when Boy gives him that, Mouse wants to string it together, then Mouse wants to put it on a Christmas tree, then they have to buy a Christmas tree, but then Mouse sees a snowman and wants to build one, then a fort...well, you get the idea.
The design team (and entire technical staff) does an excellent job on this production creating a magical set including props that pop up on stage, come down from the ceiling, or stage left and right. Bob Croghan (scenic design), Tim Parati (scenic artist) Brad Peterson (lighting design), Courtney Burt Scott (costume design), and Peter Smeal (properties design), are to be commended, as well as audio engineer Van Coble, Jr. for making all the dialogue and songs understandable; not too loud or soft. Musical director Drina Keen and movement director Ron Chisholm provide good teamwork to keep the mood upbeat and pace flowing.
Nicia Carla sounds like a mouse would, if humanized. She is fearless in not worrying about looking silly, a trait that serves actors well at children’s theatres in general because the point IS to be silly and make the kids laugh, which they did. Mark Sutton, as Boy, has to counter the silliness in a way that’s not grouchy, which he does. He and Ms. Carla have a good rapport on stage, never getting in each other’s way.
If You Take a Mouse to the Movies is an entertaining experience for all. Maybe someone should write another circle story, If You Take a Child to the Theatre...the pay off is fun. Review by Ann Marie Oliva
Ann Marie Oliva is a local playwright and freelance writer. She is the producer/editor of ARTS à la Mode and a judge for the National Youth Theatre Awards. Ann Marie is a member of the Dramatists Guild.
A Broadway Christmas Carol is a special treat for those who love musical theatre. Created by Kathy Feininger who weaves re-imagined satirical Broadway lyrics and Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, this clever show is holiday fun throughout. The three ensemble singer/actors are excellent: Kimberly Butler and Steven Martin in multiple roles, and Kevin Roberge as Scrooge. I may have to amend our previous awards and name all three the hardest working actors in Charlotte because work hard they do. By the final song, I was wondering just how tired they must be. This is no lightweight show in terms of performance or production.
There are 18 songs in the first act and 13 in the second, then 5 bonus encore songs after the finale. The musical numbers don’t last as long as 3-6 or more minute regular songs as they would in a musical, but just by sheer numbers, that is quite a bit to rehearse. Most songs successfully cause the laughter of recognition as the first bars are sung with their “unique” lyrics. The songs are from musicals too numerous to name, but you would know immediately which ones are from “Annie,” “Gypsy,” “Phantom of the Opera,” “The Fantasticks,” “Wicked,” and many other shows.
Musical director Vicki Harvell does a terrific job accompanying the singers, and even adds to the performance with voice and costume. James Vita’s production design is simple yet functional without extraneous clutter, not easy to do in a theatre in the round with this many costume changes. I especially liked the “theatre posters” projected on a large screen behind the action of recent Broadway openings starring, in some bizarre way, Scrooge himself. Other projections brought laughter to supplement the goings on.
Director Elizabeth Peterson-Vita knows how to bring out the best in her singer/actors and they shine without upstaging each other. I really appreciated when they sang harmonies together, their voices blending perfectly.
A Broadway Christmas Carol is a thoroughly enjoyable holiday show. There’s no business like...well, you know. Review by Ann Marie Oliva
(DISCLAIMER: The original reviewer assigned to this show was unable to attend due to weather issues. Ann Marie Oliva has previously collaborated with Actors Scene Unseen.)
Ann Marie Oliva is a local playwright and freelance writer. She is the producer/editor of ARTS à la Mode and a judge for the National Youth Theatre Awards. Ann Marie is a member of the Dramatists Guild.
This one woman show is hysterically funny. Sister Mary must have become an alternate personality of Mary Zentmyer. This seasonal show is also sub-titled "The Mystery of the Magi's Gold" and has Sister Mary using forensic ideas culled from various television shows to solve this 2,000 year old mystery.
Opening the show will be a guest singer or group to assist Sister with refreshing the audience's (student's) memories of several Christmas Carols. On the night I went it was the Blumenthal's Douglas Young, henceforth called “Douglas George” by Sister. Yes, everyone must use their full given name when addressing Sister as she teaches Catechism class during the Christmas season. See definitions of catechism found on the web below.
Definitions of {catechism}:
An elementary book summarizing the principles of a Christian religion; written as questions and answers
(wordnetweb.princeton.edu/perl/webwn).
A catechism (from kata = "down" + echein = "to sound", literally "to sound down" (into the ears), i.e. to indoctrinate) is a summary or exposition of doctrine, traditionally used in Christian religious teaching from New Testament times to the present (en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catechism).
A form of instruction usually based on questions and answers. (www.redeemerpender.ca/aboutus-believe-dictionary).
And question and answer is exactly how how Sister teaches her "class"; by asking questions of her students and awarding correct answers with wit and prizes. Yours truly received a "Happy Birthday Jesus" bracelet and a deck of Nativity cards. You don't have to be Catholic to understand this hilarious show, I think everyone knows the basics of the Christmas story. Sister solves the age old mystery of what happened to the gold the magi presented to Jesus by using her students to create a living Nativity. All the costuming for each character in the Nativity is created by using items from the class' clothing drive with hysterical results.
This show is so refreshing and a great way to get in the spirit of the season. Come laugh and enjoy, but remember there are a few rules you must abide by when you are part of Sister's class:
-Do not chew gum.
-Turn off your cell phone.
-Make sure you raise your hand before you speak.
-Always begin or end your answers with “Sister.”
-And finally, ladies, watch the cleavage.
Submitted by Karen Lambruschi , who is still chuckling over some of the one liners.
Karen Lambruschi has been involved in theatre in South Carolina for over a dozen years as a stage manager, teacher, director and (under duress) an actress. She is currently on the board of Rock Hill Community Theatre and works in North Carolina in the entertainment industry.
Are you ready for some laughter—after all the holiday stress? CAST brings back its Christmas hit, with Tom Olson playing various roles for the fourth year and Colby Davis joining him to perform many others. There are wood panel walls onstage with paintings of vast plains, telephone poles, and oil rigs. The two actors mime most of the props, though a few are used, especially to connect with distinct Christmas trees in the different settings, when they toss tinsel or hang grenade-ornaments.
First, Thurston and Arlis host their radio show, introducing us to Tuna, the third smallest town in Texas. We also meet Elmer Watkins who gives a season's greeting about being careful with flamethrowers. Didi Snavely advertizes her weapons for defending the home on the holidays. Petey Fisk advocates not giving exotic pets as gifts, because they end up with him at the Humane Society.
We then visit the disturbed home of Bertha Bumiler with her extreme kids, Charlene, Stanley, and Jody, and even more warped neighbors. We also see old Aunt Pearl shooting blue jays with her slingshot. And we go to various other homes and the high school gymnasium—with the mystery of a "phantom" prankster in town. Sound effects evoke additional offstage places, people, animals, and events. These along with the multitude of costumes (designed by Julie O'Toole), plus the actors' distinctive caricatures, bring the entire town to life.
The actors sometimes push too hard for laughs, giving incessant tour-de-force performances of so many cartoonish characters. The lack of props does not always add to the farce. But for those who enjoy such Southern, rural-life parodies, there's plenty of energy here—to cross-dress, cross ages, and create a craziness that far surpasses any in our own homes. Or so we hope. Review by Mark Pizzato
Mark Pizzato is Professor of Theatre at UNC-Charlotte and author of Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain and Theatres of Human Sacrifice. His plays have been published by Aran Press and his screenplays, produced as short films, have won New York Film Festival and Minnesota Community Television awards.
Originally premiering in 1971, Grease the musical about the disaffected “greaser” youth culture of the 1950s, has become such a part of the American psyche that viewing it is more like flipping through a treasured photo album than viewing a musical. All of your favorite songs are here including four songs added from the popular 1978 film. If viewed in this manner, the musical is infectious and enjoyable, but if you’re looking for engaging characters and an involving plot, this is not the musical for you. Grease is essentially a pastiche of songs with the barest excuse for a book holding it together. This newest revival only exacerbates the problem by shoehorning in the new songs from the film. However, there’s no denying the power of each musical number. There’s hardly a misstep—strong voices, innovative choreography, and vibrant costumes create an enjoyable concert experience. One almost wises they would do away with the script altogether.
I won’t bore anyone with the plot. If you’ve managed to escape the story of Danny Zucko and Sandy Dumbrowski’s reunion at Rydell High School after a brief summer love affair, I’d be very surprised. I will say the cast is uniformly excellent with some notable exceptions. Lauren Ashley Zakrin is charmingly adorable as Sandy and can sing a ballad and belt as well as anyone. The role is a difficult one since the character goes through so many unmotivated changes. The actor must hold our attention and distract us from the truly ludicrous book. Zakrin is more than up for the task. The addition of the song “Hopelessly Devoted to You,” from the film, feels as if it has been spliced in from another musical stylistically, though it does show off Zakrin’s voice well. David Ruffin as Kenickie, the owner of the restored car Greased Lightning gives a incredibly acrobatic and muscular rendition of the song named after his car. He is amazing to watch and held the audience in rapt attention the entire number. Laura D’Andre is as good a Rizzo as one would expect: tough, funny, and vulnerable. Jessie JP Johnson as Doody performs the fantasy number “Those Magic Changes,” with energy and a beautiful tenor voice. Will Blum is also quite strong as the heavy set Roger. Other strong cast members include Kate Morgan Chadwick as the perpetual dropout Frenchy, and Dominic Fortuna as Vince Fontaine.
Unfortunately, understudy Mark Raumaker was only a passable Danny Zucko. He wasn’t quite up to the task either physically or vocally. Raumaker wasn’t able to muster the “bad boy” charm needed for the character. He has a lovely voice and is charming enough, but there’s no edge to his Danny and physically he didn’t have the “alpha male” stature one would expect of the leader of the T-birds. Considering how vital this role is to the success of the production, it is surprising it was left in Raumaker’s hands. Apparently American Idol finalist Ace Young will be taking over the role on the 4th and 5th and perhaps this will be an improvement. I’m never a big fan of stunt casting—though it seems to be the reality of Broadway and Broadway tours. Taylor Hicks, the 2006 winner of American Idol, plays the role of Teen Angel and sings the song “Beauty School Dropout.” Though no one would argue Hicks has charisma and vocal talent, he seemed nervous and jittery throughout the number. After the show, he performs one of his own numbers and seemed much more at ease and in his element.
Technically the production is very strong. Though undoubtedly pared down for the tour, a series of backdrops and select set pieces easily transform Ovens auditorium into the beloved Rydell High, a burger shop, and even a drive-in movie theatre. Kenneth Posner’s lighting design is a marvel and I’ve never seen so many intelligent lighting fixtures in one production. The lighting is thoughtfully and vibrantly executed throughout the production. Martin Pakledinaz’ costumes are extraordinary and my only complaint is that there are no fewer than three blonde women in the show who are costumed almost identically to Sandy. I was often confused as to which character was speaking.
In conclusion, if you love Grease, you’re not going to be disappointed. Each musical number is a treasure and great fun. There are some shortcomings, but I suppose one doesn’t go to see a production like Grease expecting anything other than a great time. So, for now at least, Grease is the word. Review by Tim Baxter-Ferguson
Tim Baxter-Ferguson is an associate professor of Theatre at Limestone College and Chair of that program. He has had his plays produced throughout the United States and Canada.
You've probably heard him on his radio show, A Prairie Home Companion. You may have seen him hosting that show on PBS or in the Robert Altman movie made about it. But what does he offer as a lone performer onstage for 100 minutes without intermission?
Garrison Keillor appeared on the Belk stage in his characteristic red gym shoes, red socks, and red tie, plus a grey suit. He sang his introduction a cappella, starting with a church hymn. While continuing the tune, he shifted the lyrics to reflect on his 35 years of radio broadcasting, on being the tallest boy in grade school, and on the sonnets he's been writing recently. He told of his Aunt Eva who lived in a farm house without electricity, but taught him to love radio shows and sonnets. She also loved church hymns and songs about death. Keillor's reminiscences, even about harsh conditions in the cold and problematic people, offered charm, wistful wisdom, and many humorous twists.
He gave precise, evocative details: an old machine shed smelling of motor oil, geese ready to "goose" a child, and the taste of fresh tomatoes in the garden, with juices dripping across one's cheeks. Like in his radio show, he told of the "Old Testament people" he grew up with, who believed in a "God of Retribution." Yet he also explained how key relatives in his early life gave him new perspectives, pushing him beyond his rural Minnesota upbringing.
Keillor, with his radio show, provides a touchstone to America's heartland. But his solo performance on the Belk stage presented darker stories, perhaps too strong for the radio. He told of the blood clot that shot to his brain on Labor Day this year, while he was getting a massage (on his buttocks). How he drove himself to the ER and then spent four days recovering in the hospital. Yet, he offered humor along with the brush with death, and expressed a feeling of "blessedness" at his survival, although an obituary writer for the St. Paul paper called him in the hospital "to catch up."
He often switched to the second person, drawing audience members into his stories as "you" in the plot. He told a touching story about receiving a phone call, while in the hospital, from a woman he'd fallen in love with 45 years before, but had left in New York, when he found she gave the same smile to others, as a stripper, that she gave to him. He also related how his Uncle Jack, a drunk and "a sinner," saved his life as a boy, provoking him to question the judgmental minds of others in his formative years.
Sitting on a stool or standing, with brief gestures or longer stares at his fingernails, Keillor mesmerized his Charlotte audience, all the more as a solo storyteller, without the musicians, singers, sound-effects makers, and radio actors in his weekend show. At the end he got us singing along about angels watching "over me," about rivers rising with the rain, and about the banks' fall. Such subtle wit not only entertained, it also resonated with the power of youthful experiences and influential personalities, yet the fragility of an aging brain trying to make sense of mortality, through remembering and retelling—for an audience above and a packed house at the PAC. Review by Mark Pizzato
Mark Pizzato is Professor of Theatre at UNC-Charlotte and author of Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain and Theatres of Human Sacrifice. His plays have been published by Aran Press and his screenplays, produced as short films, have won New York Film Festival and Minnesota Community Television awards.
9/11 was awhile ago. But it still haunts many of us, especially those living in New York at the time. As this new play shows, through humor and terror, conspiracy theories may be a way of focusing the mind's restless anxiety, after the collapse of skyscrapers and the sudden loss of loved ones, onto direct causes and fears about the future. Yet, spinning fantasies of interconnectedness can also lead the mind into danger zones, with the desire to make ordinary mortality seem more significant.
Dietz's drama begins with casual chatter in a New York bar in 2006. (Video on the bar's TV prior to the show reminds the early spectators of various historical events, from moon walks to 9/11, referenced in the play.) The set, designed by Chip Decker, is beautifully detailed. A Carlsberg beer sign rotates slowly, while emitting its green light. Blue Moon and Old Milwaukee are scripted in neon. There are many black and white photos of baseball players framed on the wall. A juke box stands near the door, figuring significantly in the play's back-story about 9/11 and its eventual plot twists. Many liquor bottles and postcards line the wall behind the bar and stools. There are also small round tables with chairs, a doorway to the restrooms, a dusty cigarette machine, and wine glasses hanging over the bar.
Adam (Matt Cosper), who inherited the bar after his father's suicide, plans to marry Janet (Kim Watson Brooks). But it bothers her that he made up names for their wedding list and that he might have had a final tryst with a professor, while finishing his Masters thesis and seeking connections in the DC intelligence community. Ray (Tom Scott), a homeless man who hangs out in the bar, tells them about his many conspiracy theories and is given free drinks by Adam, as his father's friend. Yet Ray also counsels Janet to hold onto Adam, and tells Adam to talk with his father's ghost. Like certain buildings on 9/11/01, the tavern's is destined to be destroyed. But it is already haunted by ghosts, whom Ray knows well, wandering the abandoned floors upstairs from the bar. Another mysterious character, Palmer (Chip Decker), gives beers to his own ghost and thickens the mystery considerably with his inside knowledge of the 9/11 trauma.
The actors all do able jobs of making the past impinge upon the present. Scott is especially impressive with his many crazy yet credible rants. But the play changes modes considerably, from a Cheers-like sitcom to a family drama to JFK-ish webs of historical intrigue to a spy thriller in the second act. Director Dennis Delamar handles these shifts deftly. But they make it difficult for spectators to care fully about the character's inner lives and changing relationships—or the ghosts at the edges of the stage. However, for those still shaken by memories and questions of 9/11, this play gives much to chew on, even while asking whether the obsessive uncertainties of faith/distrust, loyalty/betrayal, and fiction/truth can trap us, as we construct new realities out of the past. Review by Mark Pizzato
Mark Pizzato is Professor of Theatre at UNC-Charlotte and author of Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain and Theatres of Human Sacrifice. His plays have been published by Aran Press and his screenplays, produced as short films, have won New York Film Festival and Minnesota Community Television awards.
Freedom. We fight for it as a moral right. Soldiers die to defend it or give it to others. Yet we fear too much of it—as it breeds an immoral, chaotic, collective energy, dangerous to the social order. Weiss's play explores this paradox in many ways, through specific historical parallels. It was written in the 1960s about an insane asylum in the early 1800s, with the infamous Marquis de Sade writing and staging a play, using his fellow inmates, about the Reign of Terror that followed the French Revolution, two decades before. Yet, the play within a play may say even more about our passion for freedom today and the madness that leads us into, in the Age of Terrorism.
The Persecution and Assassination of Jean-Paul Marat as Performed by the Inmates at the Asylum of Charenton under the Direction of the Marquis de Sade. The full title suggests the multi-layered challenge of this play. Kudos to CAST for even attempting it. Sade's published writings about sexual liberties made him part of the French Revolution and its subsequent nightmare, which are reenacted in this insane asylum play. But it's much more than a history lesson. As director LaBorde's program note states, the audience plays a role as the bourgeois beneficiaries of class change in France in 1808, being entertained and attacked by those less fortunate. Fittingly, LaBorde also plays de Sade, directing the mad and releasing energies beyond his script.
Spectators are confronted with imaginative challenges as soon as they approach the ticket window. The walls bear sketches and descriptions of many of the 29 characters in the show (with a dozen asylum patients added to the script's named ones). A design on the floor also reflects the show's subject and title. And spectators are given a beheaded doll, through a guillotine box-office window, as their ticket in.
Mad bystanders and asylum authorities, along with large brutal nude paintings, populate the lobby. Inside the theatre, the stage has a low metal fence, which barely contains the craziness that erupts throughout the show. The set, designed by Robert Lee Simmons, is both lower and higher than the audience areas. It also has arched tunnels, cages, and hints of torture instruments. The 29 actors barely fit into the lower level, yet their overcrowding conveys the chaotic energy of the underclass and its eruptive power. Ritual moments also punctuate the show, as do various songs, through the choreography of Buddy Hanson and Amelia Hartsell and the musical direction of Alex Mauldin.
The leads are all impressive with their intensity. LaBorde performs de Sade with guile, measuring how far he can push the enlightened therapy of playmaking with his perverse desires. Michael R. Simmons plays Jean-Paul Marat (or rather the madman performing the role), trapped by skin sores in his bath, yet overflowing with revolutionary fervor and megalomania. Amanda Nicastro plays his wife, Simonne, as performed by an asylum inmate with such severe (and convincing) nervous ticks that she holds a hidden drama in her contorted hands. Karina Roberts-Caporino, as the madwoman with sleeping sickness playing the assassin Charlotte Corday, offers the most multi-leveled performance, shifting in and out of trance, choosing or not choosing to seduce others and be seduced by de Sade, through the historical, sadomasochistic violence she reenacts. But Michael Sharpe, as the "sex maniac" playing her co-conspirator Duperret, also gives flesh to perverse ideas with his dimpled grin and fierce gestures—as does Berry Newkirk in playing the rebellious priest, Jacques Roux, with a righteous, bestial body that must be caged.
Overall, this show does not have a reflective Brechtian precision with its alienating songs and narrative interruptions of rhyme (though the singers are eerily harmonious and the Herald, Scott McCalmont, is quite engaging with his suspicious politeness). Perhaps there's too much of a mad Artaudian effort here, with so many extras inventing more mini-dramas. Spectators might wonder at how much is allowed by the guards and asylum director—often to the point of physical danger. Or that's the point. History, theatre, and the mind offer more forces than reason can handle. And this play, while matching the monster mood of Halloween, pushes beyond easy entertainment, presenting the darkest forms of our Enlightenment ideals and freedom campaigns, as we also approach our Thanksgiving rite and its mysteries. Review by Mark Pizzato
Mark Pizzato is Professor of Theatre at UNC-Charlotte and author of Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain and Theatres of Human Sacrifice. His plays have been published by Aran Press and his screenplays, produced as short films, have won New York Film Festival and Minnesota Community Television awards.
In 1949 or 50, while visiting relatives in New York, a friend offered to take me to see a performance of South Pacific starring Mary Martin. I had to turn it down because I was told it was not proper fare for a future ministerial student. As it turned out, that was not a good career fit for me or my divinity school, so I missed a great show for nothing. But parents and deans notwithstanding, by the time I was 19, I had worn out an album of the original Broadway show and knew all the words to all the songs. Since then I have seen the movie version more times than I can count and will probably see it again, simply because, for me South Pacific is - and always will be - the greatest musical ever written.
So reviewing it now is a very scary endeavor. As we get older (and you can’t get much older than I am), we get more and more possessive of the memories we cherish. That’s probably because we fear that lifting the protective cover of nostalgia could reveal some flaws and tarnishes we don’t expect.
Thankfully, that didn’t happen last night. There is nothing about this production that is a let-down. The music still captivates and thrills; the characters still connect even in our new age of doubt and disillusionment, the social issues are as meaningful today as they were then.
The entire cast is talented, enthusiastic and look like they are having as much fun as the audience. The leads, David Pittsinger (Emile De Becque) and Carmen Cusack (Nellie Forbush), slide comfortably into my high expectations and settle there. Pittsinger lets us see a depth to De Becque’s complexity and passion that I hadn’t anticipated; his opera training is obvious and allows him to carve fresh nuances to familiar tunes.
Ms. Cusack’s Nellie was fun and huggable, at times seeming a doppelganger of Reba McIntyre. But the comparison stops right there, because there is no way Reba could compare to Cusack, talent-wise. She took on this iconic role and nailed it. Half-way though her first solo (A Cockeyed Optimist) I quit worrying about my memories and just enjoyed what Cusack was doing.
The young lovers - Anderson Davis as Lt. Cable and Sumie Maeda as Liat - are just as satisfying in their roles. In fact, I like Davis’ Cable better than I do John Kerr’s in the movie. I thought Kerr was too wimpy; Davis is anything but that. He is the young, gung-ho serviceman that will take on his next behind-enemy-lines assignment. Maeda is perfect as his island-girl lover… She has the looks, the voice, passion and the pathos this role requires.
Two secondary roles rubbed against the grain of my memory. The first is Matthew Saldivar’s Luther Billis. Expecting to see a more affable character like the one Ray Walston played in the movie version, I was at first turned off by Saldivar’s brash, loudmouth hustler. But as the evening settled in, I had to revise my opinion – and my preference. I like the way his Billis character adapts his big city street smarts to a beachfront in a remote Pacific island.
The biggest surprise is Keale Settle’s take on Bloody Mary. In the movie – and I assume in previous stage productions – Bloody Mary is an endearing island version of Dolly Levi – only she’s playing matchmaker for her daughter. Settles’ Bloody Mary is a mean-spirited, malevolent conniver and a panderer of her daughter’s virtue. There is nothing lovable here. Instead of simple mumu-like dress and a top-knot, this Bloody Mary has heavy exaggerated makeup, wide shoulder panels and hips that looked like the Kabuki villains I saw when I was stationed in Japan in the ‘50s. One of the most dramatic effects of the evening is when she can be seen walking in silhouette behind the backdrop during her own daughter’s seduction. Again, I had to reshuffle my expectations of the role and concede that – given Michener’s story of a Bloody Mary who sold skulls as souvenirs, this is probably a more accurate interpretation. Settle has the acting chops and a marvelous voice range that makes it all work.
Back in the mid-20th Century, the social implications of mixed-race love themes were hard to sell in some parts of the country. Sixty years later, these issues are less volatile but still not fully resolved. The anti-bigotry song “You’ve Got To Be Carefully Taught” is still relevant. Its soft-spoken message is the perfect answer to loud-mouthed, racist diatribes.
This production’s staging is unique – at least to me. As you might expect, there is the omni-present backdrop of Bali Ha’I in the distance and a beach and palm tree in front of it, serving as background in other scenes. Many of the other backdrops and flats are large panels of what appear to rattan or bamboo slats. Similar to shades you could buy at Pier One but much, much larger. It is a very effective technique that connoted the hot tropical island setting and yet allowed the audience to see through them. I made two notes about the panels. The first is that when one of these panels moved up or down behind another, there is an optical illusion of ocean waves moving. Maybe it is just my overactive imagination. The second note is not as romantic. From my position in the audience, I could look through the stage-left panels and see cast and crew moving around backstage while a scene was going on. Just a minor nag though, because everything else about this production worked.
Costuming and props – like the set – were true to the era. The nurses’ swimsuits covered a lot more skin than swimsuits do today, and for an old-timer, that was okay. The airplane with the folding wing was an unexpected treat in the beach scene even though I’ve forgotten what kind of plane it is – maybe a Grumman Wildcat — but I’m not sure.
The music held up better than I thought, and I was delighted to see so many young people in the audience enjoying the music of my day. It’s hard to believe that one show has so many tunes that are now considered classics: Younger than Springtime; Some Enchanted Evening; Bali Ha’i; I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair; Honey Bun; There’s Nothing Like A Dame… and many, many more that helped a lot of us out on dates back in the day.
My biggest regret is that this run is so short. I’d like to catch it again with the whole family and not have to worry about taking notes. It’s one even my 9 year old grandson might enjoy--- on second thought, no. All he’d remember is the two naked guys running across the stage when the nurses came near. Review by Don Cook
Don Cook is a retired film and speech writer who worked primarily for the car companies in Detroit and Los Angeles. He was also a founding member of two Detroit professional theatres and his plays have been produced in eight states.
The Sixties haunts us today, perhaps more than any other decade of the past. Baby Boomers coming of age then changed American politics: rebelling against the Vietnam War, energizing the civil rights and feminist movements, experimenting with hallucinogens, and worshipping a British rock group, whose beat is still with us. But Rain is much more than a history lesson. It incarnates various serious and silly spirits of the Beatles, through their music, costumes, and hair styles—while adding documentary and creative videos along with fantastic lighting effects.
To be honest, I did not come of age in the Sixties and I'm not a Beatles fan. But still I was lured into nostalgic wonder, like younger people I saw in the audience, by the fiction of traveling back in time. Screens at the sides of the stage show the Beatles' 1964 invasion of the US. They (or the idol-actors) then appear onstage in dapper black suits, white dress shirts, and thin ties, as if once again on the Ed Sullivan TV show. They sing "I Want to Hold Your Hand" with applause signs around them. And the formal opera house of the Belk Theatre becomes transformed.
Joe Bologna wags his mop-head wig and goes wild on the drums as Ringo. Joe Bithorn performs the George Harrison role with initial subdued solidity and then a growing flair. David Leon and Graham Alexander (who also performed in Beatlemania) look even more like Paul and John—as stages of the group's development are shown. (Eventually, Mark Beyer joins them as a fifth Beatle on keyboard.) At times, the voices are a bit lost behind the rock band amplifiers. But the acoustic guitar pieces and Bithorn's tour-de-force on electric guitar more than make up for that.
From the early TV and Shea Stadium appearances to Sergeant Pepper and further reincarnations, Rain gradually increases the color, jesting, political edginess, and psychedelic rapture evoked by the Beatles across several decades. The costume and wig changes are delightful, yet the videos extend many other ties between past and present. The performers' faces are multiplied, as in Andy Warhol silk screens. Sixties' TV commercials are shown for contrast, with Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble smoking Wilsons and an actress demonstrating the wonders of Prell shampoo. Cut-out animations, kaleidoscopic images, and lava lamp shapes accompany "All the Lonely People," "Strawberry Fields Forever," and other hits. The audience is encouraged to clap many times, to stand at certain points, and to sing and dance along—as various psychedelic lights extend the video imagery onto the walls and ceiling of the theatre around them.
Yet perhaps the most ghostly parts of the show are the videos of the Vietnam War, and other Sixties traumas, along with the present audience standing, swaying together, and singing with the band: "Give peace a chance." In reliving such nostalgic songs, can we learn from the past not to repeat its tragedies? Review by Mark Pizzato
Mark Pizzato is Professor of Theatre at UNC-Charlotte and author of Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain and Theatres of Human Sacrifice. His plays have been published by Aran Press and his screenplays, produced as short films, have won New York Film Festival and Minnesota Community Television awards.
Leave your stuffiness at home. This manic trip through the 37 plays of the Bard is an irreverent gallop through his work. It’s so fast, in fact, that you may not be able to catch all the titles, but that doesn’t make it any less fun.
The three hard-working, talented actor/comedians: Reed Martin, Matt Rippy, and Austin Tichenor who play all the characters in the show keep it happily moving at break neck speed. It’s also interactive so the audience can become part of the experience and laugh at itself.
One caution is that because of some of the bawdy language this is not a show for young children, though the teenagers had an excellent time. Enough of the worshipful groveling! Shakespeare’s stories have universal themes so they have lasted hundreds of years, yet to portray them with humor makes them more accessible.
After the intermission, the second act is several mini playlets of Hamlet, which I believe, people know or know about because it's considered by some to be the greatest play in the English language. This provides plenty of laughter as the audience is let in on the joke.
Famous Shakespearean lines are said throughout the show, but you’d better pay attention, or they’ll fly right by you. Review by Ann Marie Oliva
Ann Marie Oliva is an award-winning playwright. She is the producer/editor of ARTS à la Mode and a judge for the National Youth Theatre Awards. Ann Marie is a member of the Dramatists Guild.
The Tarradiddle Players, the Professional Touring Company of Children’s Theatre is off to an excellent start with their production of New Kid. The play, an inspired choice, is well-written, directed, and acted with all the production elements contributing to the overall success of the show.
Nick has come from a place called Homeland with his family. What is it like to be the New Kid, from another country no less? The writer, Dennis Foon, uses the device of having the American kids talk in gibberish as the language would sound to someone who doesn’t speak English. This isolates Nick and makes him feel homesick. Yet, it’s always clear what is being communicated; body language being as precise as words, or more so.
Developing empathy is a trait that children learn. The suggested age of seven and above is a good time to introduce more complex issues about how others feel, and why it’s important to treat others well in a world that becomes smaller all the time. This play allows the audience to identify with Nick’s tough situation. Only by feeling like Nick feels can one truly appreciate his dilemma.
Matt Cosper’s assured direction works especially well in the connection he has with the actors. Salvador Garcia, new to the Tarradiddle Players this year, is certain to be an asset to the group. His portrayal of Nick is appealing and endearing. Darlene Parker, as Nick’s mother and Leslie Ann Giles, as Mencha, work up to their usual high standards. Stephen Seay, as Mug the bully, gets to display more of his acting range in the show. (He’s not wearing an outlandish costume, or speaking as an animal this time.) It’s always more difficult for an actor to be an unlikable yet understandable character, particularly for a young audience, but he does exactly that.
The technical elements are again first class from the scene and costume design by Sandra Gray to the lighting design by Eric Windenwerder, and the sound design by Van Coble, Jr.
It’s another impressive opening and high caliber production by the Tarradiddle Players and Children’s Theatre of Charlotte. Review by Ann Marie Oliva
Ann Marie Oliva is an award-winning playwright. She is the producer/editor of ARTS à la Mode and a judge for the National Youth Theatre Awards. Ann Marie is a member of the Dramatists Guild.
Basic Training is nothing less than a tour de force performance by creator Kahlil Ashanti that runs the gamut from outrageously funny to the heartbreaking story of his journey from boy to man. The show, performed without an intermission, starts when Kahlil is a child growing up in a harsh family environment, but he has a drive to succeed and leaves home to join the Air Force.
The fun starts in basic training when the recruits are soundly abused by their sergeant to break down their defenses and build their character. Mr. Ashanti’s talent for mimicry is spot on and the audience never gets confused among the over 20 or so people he portrays. He is also able to incorporate a wide array of talents that include elements of physical stamina, dance and acting.
Mr. Ashanti gets a break by being stationed in Las Vegas where the Tops in Blue elite Air Force performance group is headquartered. His long repressed comedic side emerges, he tries out, and makes the cut. He did two tours with them and this provides plenty of material for him to entertain the audience, which was thoroughly caught up in his escapades.
Yet, the most poignant part of the story is his relationship with his mother, uncle, and abusive step-father. Powerless as a teenager when he left for the Air Force, the service not only led him to a career, but gave him another, safer family, and the strength to act as a hero. Though Mr. Ashanti makes fun of the military, it’s obvious he is grateful for what it did for him.
The show played Off-Broadway to very good reviews. (We may have to now dub Mr. Ashanti the “hardest working man” in show business!) If you can, get over to the Stage Door Theatre and don’t miss this very funny, affecting, inspirational show. Review by Ann Marie Oliva
Ann Marie Oliva is an award-winning playwright. She is the producer/editor of ARTS à la Mode and a judge for the National Youth Theatre Awards. Ann Marie is a member of the Dramatists Guild.
The Disney version of the classic fairy tale Beauty and the Beast that has opened at Children’s Theatre of Charlotte is dazzling. Director Alan Poindexter has meshed the music, dancing, acting, and technical elements into a completely realized production that should not be missed. The show is two and a half hours, but doesn’t drag for a moment. (The preparation for such a large production is staggering to think about.)
The Disney take is a variation of the original fairy tale. The moral is still the same; look beneath the surface, although the emphasis for modern audiences may be different from the French version written in the 1700s. Belle (Caroline Bower) is thought pretty, but odd, for her habit of reading books. She is devoted to her father, Maurice (Mark Sutton), but follows her true nature and refuses to marry the handsome but buffoonish Gaston (Matthew Keffer). Immediately Belle is recognized as a heroine with moral integrity, and the only kind of person who can save the Beast (Sean Watkins) from his fate. For his part, before his transformation to Beast, he is a prince, but a beast on the inside proving this when he refuses to help an old woman at the beginning of the play (ingeniously shown as puppets in shadow).
The show is perfectly cast. Caroline Bower doesn’t overplay Belle’s serious nature or make her cartoonish. She is believable whether sincere or feisty and has a lovely singing voice. The Beast is a compelling character in the show, but the actor has to be able to convey the inner turmoil with his face and body covered with a heavy costume. Sean Watkins is more than up to the part, and an even more sympathetic Beast than when I saw the show on Broadway. When he starts his solo, “If I Can’t Love Her” at the end of Act I with hesitation and voice cracking, then builds to more human desperation, it’s quite moving. Mark Sutton, who often directs at Children’s Theatre, is also very directable as Belle’s father and absent-minded inventor, Maurice. The part of Gaston can be difficult to cast, but Matthew Keffer is terrific. He has to be like an evil preening Elvis, but clownish, macho, and yet very threatening to Belle when called upon. His “partner” the bumbling Lefou, Jon Parker Douglas, has shown his considerable talent on a number of stages in Charlotte. (I hope he has plenty of padding with all his pratfalls.)
Susan Chernin Gundersheim is an admirable Mrs. Potts and we have the pleasure of her singing the title song. She works well with her “son” Chip, well played by young Sam Faulkner who spends most of the play under a table with face showing from a huge tea cup (when not helping out in the chorus). He doesn’t miss a step. Ashby Blakely is an audience favorite as Cogsworth the clock. He and Nic Bryan, who shines (sorry) as Luminere, have a good rapport, and provide some of the wittiest lines. They also benefit from their inventive costumes. Also first-rate are Susan Roberts Knowlson as Babette, Amy Van Looy as the Wardrobe, Steven Ivey as Monsieur D’Arque, and the entire chorus. What an embarrassment of acting riches.
Drina Keen’s musical direction is outstanding; her work with the actors gives each his/her moment to shine and shows each off to his/her best advantage. The same is true for the choreography of Ron Chisholm as he always likes to add some original touches with dancers of all sizes and shapes, from young to adult.
The costume design by Connie Furr Soloman is impressive and adds greatly to the fantasy elements of the production. Special mention needs to be made of the work by scenic designer Ryan Wineinger, properties manager Peter Smeal, sound designer Elisabeth Itloop, lighting designer David M. Fillmore, Jr., and the video projection design by Jay Thomas, as well as work of the entire production staff.
Beauty and the Beast helps us revive a childhood hope. Wouldn’t we all like to believe in the transformative power of love? It may be a fairy tale, but for the course of the show, I suspended disbelief, and thought it possible. Congratulations to Children’s Theatre for this excellent production. Review by Ann Marie Oliva
Ann Marie Oliva is an award-winning playwright. She is the producer/editor of ARTS à la Mode and a judge for the National Youth Theatre Awards. Ann Marie is a member of the Dramatists Guild.
In 2007 a new theatre company opened its doors with a farce titled Sordid Lives. I was lucky enough to see it for two reasons: one, it was hell of a lot of fun, and two, it acts as a convenient benchmark to illustrate how far this young company has already progressed. Sordid Lives is back and it’s better than ever.
Sordid Lives begins shortly after the death of Peggy Ingram the matriarch of a very dysfunctional Texas family. Peggy dies by tripping over the wooden legs of her younger married lover. The aftermath of her death forces her three children to come to terms with their lives. I won’t reveal too much of the plot here, since its farcical revelations are half of the fun in this twisted production.
The ensemble of actors chew the scenery with relish. Subtlety would certainly not be appropriate here, and no one could possibly be accused of it. Josh Looney plays Ty Williamson the formerly closeted gay soap star. Strangely enough he is the straight man to this crazy group. Jennifer Grant plays Sissy ,the much younger sister of the deceased. Grant is a master of timing and subtle physical comedy though she stumbles over her lines more than once. Jennifer Quigley who was equally hilarious as the Velma character in Spooky Dog plays the jilted wife of the wooden-legged man. Becky Porter plays Latrelle Williamson, Ty’s mother, whose primary purpose in life is to keep up appearances. Porter is hilariously harried but still manages to be heartbreakingly sincere when she comes to terms with her gay son. Christy K. Basa plays the hard-living wild sister La Vonda. Basa, who was so wonderful in QCT’s production of Educating Rita, is equally adept at farce. She’s a gem of an actor . Steve Rosswick plays the young wooden-legged lover G.W. He is appropriately grief-stricken and bravely dances a waltz in bikini briefs and a black push-up bra.
Phil Taylor plays the older Wardell. As the only repentant male in the play he is both comedic and sympathetic. Matt Kenyon, a regular on the QTC stage, makes the most of the part of Odell, whose obsession with string tricks provides some nice comic moments. Watch for the red string tucked into the pocket of his suit jacket during the funeral. Jess Dugger almost steals the show with her barfly Juanita. She is so over-the-top in this production, it’s amazing any scene she’s in doesn’t become completely unbalanced. It’s a tribute to her fellow actors, and more importantly to Dugger’s expert timing, that this never happens. Amanda Liles plays the evil Dr. Eve who seeks to de-homosexualize the gay transvestite Brother Boy. Liles is manic and sensual and uses her considerable comic and physical assets expertly. Completing this cast is the wonderful Hank West who is no stranger to drag. It is a tribute to West’s talent that his award-winning portrayal of Angela Arden in Die Mommie Die! bears no resemblance to the fragile, conflicted Brother Boy. West’s portrayals are always a mix of ballsy brashness and subtlety.
Revivals are tricky business. There is always the danger of tarnishing a previous success with a poorer production or remaining so slavish dedicated to the original that new discoveries are ignored. I’m happy to report there is no evidence of either of these. If anything, Glenn T. Griffin’s direction seems surer, bolder, and more adept than ever. Griffin is always able to so much with so little.
Technically, the production is still sparse, though not so much as the original. Andrew Fisher and Emily Eudy’s set design makes multiple uses of a pair of pews, a coffin, and a podium. The pair also serve as lighting designers and the lighting is subtle and effective. Jeff Capell builds on Gypsy Star’s excellent wig and makeup designs and, if the publicity is to be believed, makes the hair even higher. Finally, Alfie B. Griffin’s costumes are as over-the-top as the cast. Sordid Lives is a light-hearted black comedy. A good deal of fun. It’s message of tolerance and acceptance is always welcome, but more importantly, this is a good time. If you saw the original production, go see it again, if only to marvel at how far this company has come in so short a time. If you haven’t been before, there are worse things you could do than spend time with this sordid group of dysfunctional red necks. Review by Tim Baxter-Ferguson
Tim Baxter-Ferguson is an associate professor of Theatre at Limestone College and Chair of that program. He has had his plays produced throughout the United States and Canada.
Capitalism isn't what it used to be. The recent banking crisis was a bit of a let down, even to those clinging to the American Dream. But it still helps to be reminded that "business ethics" is an oxymoron in some circles. And it helps to be able to laugh at that contradiction, especially in a big business city like Charlotte. Big Boys shows an unethical boss mentoring a nice employee into a monstrous twin—extending this motif into cartoonish farce, yet still touching upon painful truths.
Jerry Colbert plays Victor, the boss, with such convincing relish that the extremities of the character, while disgusting and absurd, become almost likable (or "lickable" as he might say). Joe Rux, as the protégé Norm, also known as Gustav, or "Gu," charts an amazing transformation of this character, from ***-kissing interviewee to major ***hole, who's still tempted to be nice and make a fair deal, just to spite his ruthless teacher. Director and set designer Chip Decker has brought their plush, skyscraper playpen to the ATC stage with a beauty and boldness that inspires and shocks—while building almost ceaseless laughter. Greek columns line the office walls and reflect its marble floor, suggesting that the corporate mayhem has its roots in ancient tragicomedy, satyr madness, and the flaws of the democratic marketplace. There are also large wooden circles in the walls, like huge portholes, with the lights of other erect buildings beyond. And the boss's table grows during the show, in an explicitly Freudian way.
Norm must endure extraordinary tests, from clown-eye puzzles to urine samples, in order to get the job and then become head of the Total Operations Review Task Force and the Plan X A-Team. Victor eventually gives him a new Genesis/Apocalypse story with donuts, a "firm grip on absurdity," and a "Damn you I am" philosophy of selfish gene, greed is good, never a fair deal competitiveness. But Norman's niceness almost gets its revenge, via the boss's rage, until the seductions of power flip the ethical scales upside-down again (into clashing symbols)—and the audience laughs because it's all too farcical to be real, yet is. Review by Mark Pizzato
Mark Pizzato is Professor of Theatre at UNC-Charlotte and author of Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain and Theatres of Human Sacrifice. His plays have been published by Aran Press and his screenplays, produced as short films, have won New York Film Festival and Minnesota Community Television awards.
The stage of Charlotte's brand spanking new Knight Theater was christened last night by joyful strains of bluegrass music provided by none other than Steve Martin, noted comedian, actor, author, and Grammy award-winning musician on the banjo, accompanied by the talented Steep Canyon Rangers.
The new space seems a most appropriate venue for an intimate evening with a star entertainer and his music. The Theater itself is stylish with simple lines and curves that befit a less ostentatious era. What is important? The seats are comfortable, the sight lines are good, the materials used are simple but functional. The 1,150 seat theater will provide the city with a place to host events when some of the other places in town are either too big or too small.
The performance began with an introduction by humor writer Dave Barry, who, after declaring his home town of Miami's new tourist slogan as "Come on down, we weren't shooting at you.", provided a one-on-one interview with Steve Martin as a way of both setting the tone for the evening and introducing the banjo instrument, which Mr. Martin plays in his acclaimed “clawhammer” style.
But onto the music, which is why the packed audience came in the first place. Fresh on the heels of snagging an International Bluegrass Music award for, of all things, best liner notes, Steve Martin launched into his set which included a selection of tunes from his new disc, The Crow. The music is indeed enjoyable but the added layer is that Steve Martin can really play that thing--and he composed the music as well.
The range of the compositions is impressive, from a toe-tapping Irish jig to more moody pieces like "Saga of the Old West" and "Tin Roof" and, of course, humorous pieces like "Late for School" and "Jubilation Day." Martin blended his talents of musicianship, banter and shtick throughout the evening but was able to demonstrate that he takes his music, perhaps like all of his many talents, very seriously.
Steve Martin chose as his backup band the young and ambitious Steep Canyon Rangers quintet, who, in addition to winning their own set of awards in bluegrass music, has also released a new album, Deep in the Shade. They played a brief set of their own music while Mr. Martin took a break (unable to resist a comedic turn by returning during their brief set to retrieve a banana from Charles Humphrey III's bass "refrigerator".) The Rangers dutifully played backup for Mr. Martin, but their superb musical talents are evident, especially Nicky Sanders' soaring fiddle solos. But the others, Mike Guggino on mandolin, Graham Sharp on banjo, and Woody Platt on guitar and vocals, all took turns providing proof of their craft. Their tight harmonies were also on display during the song "Be Still Moses." This group has made a point of spreading the bluegrass gospel, so to speak, by constant touring at Americana and Bluegrass festivals in the U.S. and overseas, as well as major rock and roll venues on the jam-band circuit. Keep your eye on these guys.
The evening seemed to come to an abrupt end when Steve Martin challenged the audience to avoid giving a standing ovation to their last number, which he claimed would have been a first. Of course, the audience complied and stood up. This prompted the obligatory encore, which was a rousing rendition of the bluegrass classic "Orange Blossom Special." The applause prompted another encore, and Martin chose to bow to his comedic roots and perform "King Tut" with the Rangers.
It was quite a night at the Knight Theater. We look forward to many more. Review by Brett Mason & Ann Marie Oliva
Brett Mason recently won a Metrolina Theatre Award for his performance as one of the bluegrass musicians in the Stony Lonesome Boys band for the play Foxfire at Carolina Actors Studio Theatre (CAST).
Ann Marie Oliva is an award-winning playwright. She is the producer/editor of ARTS à la Mode and a judge for the National Youth Theatre Awards. Ann Marie is a member of the Dramatists Guild.
Doesn’t it feel good to laugh? And laugh you will at this interactive “class” taught by Sister (Mary Zentmyer). Who knew a good Catholic scolding could be so funny? Maybe it relieves some of that religious guilt we felt as a child when we knew we had been less than good. In fact, the funniest parts of the show are when the adult students misbehave.
The audience is invited into the class because we supposedly need some kind of refresher course to be a Confirmation sponsor or some other reason. We then get a lecture from Sister on various topics presented in a way only she can. For instance, there’s “Saint or No Saint” where we get to vote on whether certain saints still deserve to be saints or are sent packing like poor St. Christopher. There are quizzes, prizes, punishments, and you’d better have Mary or Joseph somewhere in your name. Things get worse if you misbehave by chewing gum, are late for class, are wearing a short skirt or you don’t leave room for the Holy Ghost (you’ll see).
This show will bring back memories if you attended Catholic school, but some of the people laughing the hardest are the non-Catholics in the audience. We all knew someone growing up who could wither us without raising his/her voice and ending the sentence with “dear,” something nuns perfected.
Yet, it’s all in good fun, and Mary Zentmyer represents the jovial and kind religious folks who really did it for our own good; to save our immortal souls. Ms. Zentmyer has obviously performed this show many times, but still, she is so good on her feet that her adlibbing and double takes are hilarious. She has us from the minute she enters and gets our attention with a clacker. It’s difficult for an actor to have command of an audience for almost two hours alone onstage, but she makes it seem effortless.
There are a few melancholy moments as we realize a way of life is lost forever as nuns retreat to convents when they retire, and churches and their schools are closing. (A collection is made at the end for the Sisters at Belmont). But there is no time to be sad; it is a time to laugh and remember those who ruled so ruthlessly, sacrificed their comforts, and genuinely loved teaching children. Review by Ann Marie Oliva
Ann Marie Oliva is an award-winning playwright. She is the producer/editor of ARTS à la Mode and a judge for the National Youth Theatre Awards. Ann Marie is a member of the Dramatists Guild.
In 1974 a group of 22 dancers were gathered together for taped interviews about the life of the Broadway dancer. Sometime a year later, director and choreographer Michael Bennett joined the group and helped shape the interviews into a cohesive musical. Eight of the twenty-two dancers actually became part of the Broadway cast of the production that would eventually become known as A Chorus Line. The original production is still the longest running Broadway show to have its original production in The United States. Having its official Broadway opening in October of 1975 and closing in September of 1983 it would run for 6,137 performances. Eventually being revived in 2006, A Chorus Line has run another 714 performances and is now on national tour. The bottom line of all of this trivia is that something in this musical speaks to audiences, and judging from last night’s audience, the production has aged well .
It is not surprising how this musical was created. It is an often disjointed collection of confessional monologues and songs hung loosely on the framing device of an unlikely audition where the director needs to “get to know” his actors by asking them to reveal their innermost secrets and desires. If it were not for a truly memorable score by Marvin Hamlisch and Edward Kleban and some fantastic choreography, it would be easy for the sentimentality of the show to weigh it down. As it is, the production oscillates between brilliant moments such as the heartbreaking “At the Ballet,” to the just plain silly as when the all-too aging lothario director Zach (played with zeal and finesse by Michael Gruber) cannot believe his ex-lover Cassie (Robin Hurder) would give up stardom to be in the chorus.
What sets A Chorus Line apart from other shows, perhaps what has made it such an overwhelming success is its stripped down elegance. A white line and a set of mirrors is all the setting this production needs. The dancers wear traditional (if vintage) dance wear and only have one costume change. All of the trappings of a traditional Broadway musical are missing here. All that is left is performer and the story and though it's told without ornament or lyricism, its sincerity is infectious.
There are some standout numbers including the aforementioned “At the Ballet,” where three women tell of how ballet was their refuge from unhappy homes; “Dance: Ten; Looks: Three” wherein a dancer tells of the wonders of plastic surgery ( Actress Mindy Dougherty struts her assets effectively, though at this point, the shock value of the song has certainly dulled over time); and, “The Music and the Mirror.” The latter song is wonderfully executed by actress Robyn Hurder. In the number, Cassie pleads for a chance to simply dance rather than reach for stardom. The number goes on a bit long and the choreography a becomes a little repetitive, but Hurder’s intensity and some innovative staging elevate the number.
The production seems over directed at times. Some of the lighting is more “artistic” than it needs to be. The staccato mix of monologues and music often forced and stagey, but the cast is always believable and engaging. There is heart in this show, and it is clear this show means something to the performers on a level that leaps from the stage and into the audience.
Ultimately, the musical defines itself after one dancer injures himself at a critical point in the audition. The omniscient director asks the company of dancers, all shaken and forlorn, what they would do if they could suddenly not dance any more. It is here where the musical’s anthem “What I Did for Love,” illuminates the central theme—sometimes it is enough to settle for the edge of a dream. Not stardom, not immortality, but simply getting by and dancing for the joy of it for as long as health and opportunity will let you. Review by Tim Baxter-Ferguson
Tim Baxter-Ferguson is an associate professor of Theatre at Limestone College and Chair of that program. He has had his plays produced throughout the United States and Canada.
CAST has outdone itself once again. This time with operatic splendor. The lobby overflows with magical masks, props, sculptures, and costumes, arousing La Scala spirits in the audience's imagination—for their "master class" with Maria Callas.
Cynthia Farbman performs Callas in a role she seems divinely made for. She not only looks like the historical Callas, who is shown in black and white video projections (designed by Jay Thomas), while her character remembers operatic moments in her life. She also expresses the intensity, vanity, and vulnerability of Callas, interacting with her pianist (smartly played by Adam Watkins), her stagehand (Michael Anderson), her students, and the audience. And she translates certain lines from Italian Opera into exquisite theatrical moments, showing the power of her voice and gestures, as both actor and singer.
It is rare to experience such a fine combination of acting and singing talent together on such an intimate stage. Farbman leads the way, but those performing the students of Callas also give tour de force performances. Kristin Jann-Fischer plays the first student, Sophie, with innocent eagerness and persistence to learn, despite the diva's critical interruptions. Damien Genardi plays a tenor, who is more of a match for the teacher's teasing wit and grand persona. Mary Katherine Withers, another student, is forced offstage by a costume comment from her teacher, but returns (after vomiting in the bathroom) to become wiser about what Callas can give her as her operatic destiny.
There are many comical, as well as emotional beats in this piece. Director Michael Simmons has taken CAST in a new direction here, developing the appeal of opera and theatre on a simple wood floor, with few props or set pieces. He also reveals the friction between a singer's power to move the "audience" purely through sound and an actor's ability to challenge spectators with gestures and words.
The power of silence arises, too, in this show, though hampered somewhat by mechanical noises above the CAST stage. The structure of the play may be frustrating as well, circling around Callas as teacher, performer, and former star, instead of giving a clear operatic climax. Some in the audience might be annoyed with sightline problems in certain seats. But the difficulty I found was in choosing between keeping my eyes open, to see all I could, or closing them to imagine and hear more.
"Everything is in the music," Callas repeatedly says. Like other things she tells the audience, such as "no applause," she means this paradoxically. The diva here is a complex hypocrite, working passionately to impart wisdom to her students, yet also resenting their youth, while competing with them for the love of the audience. She has climbed much higher and insists on showing it, as she demonstrates how certain parts ought to be played. Yet her vertigo is all the more terrifying, at such transcendent reaches. As Callas puts it: "the audience is the enemy ... you have to make them beg." And that makes this thrilling theatre—both to hear and see. Review by Mark Pizzato
Mark Pizzato is Professor of Theatre at UNC-Charlotte and author of Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain and Theatres of Human Sacrifice. His plays have been published by Aran Press and his screenplays, produced as short films, have won New York Film Festival and Minnesota Community Television awards.