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This group of young actors from Providence High School does a very good job with Laurie Brooks’ thought-provoking play. It’s a true ensemble piece and a perfect choice by director James Yost for this group. He is supported by two assistant directors, Brian Garcia and Natalie Lane. On first entering the actors were saying their lines too rapidly, a tendency of actors when they are nervous, but soon enough they were completely into their characters, and so was the audience.
The Wrestling Season is only marginally about wrestling (a good metaphor for struggling with identity), though the actors had to learn some credible wrestling moves. “You don’t know me,” is a constant refrain, with the real issue, “I don’t even know myself.”
Matt (Tanner Agle leading the cast with spirit and energy) and best friend Luke (Jimmy Irwin, nicely underplaying a sensitive soul), want to win their weight divisions, especially Matt whose mother has been pressuring him to win a scholarship. One day as they support each other and end a discussion with an innocent hug, a rival wrestler, Willy (Kaio DeSouza, ably conveying anger and jealousy), witnesses this and starts a rumor they are gay. With the insidious nature of rumors the truth is less the issue than the ability of rumors to ruin reputations and relationships.
Matt decides to date a girl who is known for sleeping around to prove to all he’s not gay. Melanie (Savannah Hamilton, appealingly vulnerable) really likes Matt, but withholds the truth of her past to keep dating him. Another student Kori (Lindsey Rosenbaum, at ease and natural on stage), an outsider, but friend to most of the other characters tries to be a go-between and help. Nicole (Reem Saed, full of personality), spreads rumors, though she thinks she is being a loyal friend. Heather (Kara Spangler, doing a nice job as the pretty, popular girl) whose looks get her noticed, but then trap her into doing more than she wants, has a relationship with a star wrestler named Jolt (Brian Froeb, ably playing a selfish lout), only interested in himself. Toffer Mohr is the Referee who makes “calls” on the actions and reactions of the characters. His role keeps him involved throughout the play and he admirably stays in character.
There was a freewheeling talkback after the play, with the actors answering questions about the play and their characters. Obviously, much thought and preparation has been put into this production and it showed. This is a good play for parents as well as students. It gets to underlying issues of transitioning to adulthood and difficult choices that require the courage to do the right thing. With only several performances left, this is one young adult play not to miss. Review by Ann Marie Oliva
Ann Marie Oliva is an award-winning local playwright with productions across the United States, a published fiction and non-fiction writer, and reviewer. 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 of America.
The Sixties (and Seventies) was a time of radical change in America. But the assassination of John Lennon in 1980 marked an end to that era. McLure's 90-minute ensemble play explores the ripple effects of that event on the lives of various characters gathered in a New York park, near the building where Lennon lived. A critical choice emerges through such interactions: whether to blame how "they" (the others with power) act unfairly against us—or to take responsibility for changing oneself and society.
CAST has transformed its lobby with Beatles' images, even a yellow submarine over the bar. Inside the theatre, a boulder, brick ledge, dry leaves, and tables with chess pieces convey the park scene very well (as designed by Mary Courtney Blake). Videos on the walls show the news of the day. CAST spectators in the small arena also become part of the scene, gathering there like the characters who share a sudden collective loss.
Teens emulate Lennon by playing a guitar and singing his songs. Vietnam vets, the talkative Silvio and guilt-ridden Gately, claim that they "know what it's all about," because they were used as tools of war, and now rationalize picking the pockets of others around them. Ad man, Brian, and legal secretary, Fran, meet at one chess table, realizing how they both went to Woodstock and may have other passions between them. An elderly white man, Morris, and a young black thief, Larry, become friends over another chess table—in comical ways. These groups represent key developments of the 1960s that continue to affect us today: teens mimicking media stars, vets feeling undervalued and resentful, feminists challenging male elites, and alienated yet brave individuals finding racial and intergenerational understanding.
There are many strong performances here. Lamar Wilson and Derrick J. Hines offer compelling insights as the two vets, with frighteningly real explosions of rage. James Lee Walker's Larry rebels against his "social prison," yet gives comical twists to the stereotypes he mocks. Bill McNeff shows the poignant sources of old-man Morris's funny irritations. Heather Whittington, as the edgy redhead Fran, provides an elegant voice to some brief Beatles' tunes and a powerful questioning of contemporary mating rites. She also demonstrates her courageous credo of acting responsibly when she spots and challenges the vets' tricks.
Kudos to CAST and first-time director Karina Roberts-Caporino for offering Charlotte much more this month than the usual seasonal cheer. As the characters in the show remind us, Lennon was "a seeker for truth," not just a popular entertainer. And this production suggests how he still inspires a passion for understanding—between people and about social structures that need to be changed. Review by Mark Pizzato
Mark Pizzato is Professor of Theatre at UNC-Charlotte and author of Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain, Theatres of Human Sacrifice, and Inner Theatres of Good and Evil. 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.
PlayPlay! Theatre presents a theatre experience for the very young (birth to three). It's a niche audience and therefore difficult to review in any traditional method. What I witnessed was hardly a production in any traditional sense but it provided an entertaining hour for babies, toddlers, and their loved ones. Parents and their child (or children) are encouraged to sit with performers before the show and play with a selection of objects. My wife and I sat with our two-year-old daughter and watched her play with string, blocks, and other items which could be put into canisters of various shapes. The materials were not traditional toys, but rather manipulatives that were tactilely and visually interesting. The performer assisted the children around her and encouraged them to play and to interact with their caregivers. All of this was accomplished in a friendly and non-confrontational manner.
After a few minutes of semi-structured play, the audience is invited into the theatre space where they are encouraged to sit on the floor (with pillows provided). There are chairs for those who would prefer it. The setting is a collection of boxes painted with the kind of black-and-white designs we are told are most attractive to the infant mind. There are three actors (two men and a woman). Though a program was provided, more actors were listed than were on stage, so I apologize for not including any names. The actors perform a simple story of exploration and discovery. They discover the pianist in one of the boxes for example (much to the delight of the children in the audience!).
I was impressed by the gentle insistence of the performers to get each and every child involved. The actors never frightened the children nor pushed them into anything. My daughter, who can be shy, seemed very comfortable exploring the space at the end of the production.
Actors only occasionally used actual words, preferring to communicate as a baby might with simple sounds. Technical aspects were kept very simple and used to gently arouse the children's interests. Music was used to encourage rhythmic movements and many of the children could be seen dancing along with the performers. It's clear that the good people of PlayPlay! Theatre care about their audience and care about providing entertainment for young audiences. My daughter seemed to enjoy herself thoroughly. 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
If you're a fan of the 1946 Frank Capra movie, or intrigued by the bits of it you've caught in its annual Christmas showing on TV, this radio theatre version offers a new take on an old holiday favorite. Excellent actors from Asheville perform for a bank of raked seats on the Booth stage—as if today's audience were a radio studio audience a half century ago. They fret at first because most of their company has been delayed by a snowstorm. But the two men and two women act on, valiantly playing numerous characters, sometimes two or more at once, to save the radio station from ruin.
The audience plays along, with APPLAUSE and ON AIR signs. With eyes closed, the show becomes a radio play, as the mind recalls images from the movie or remakes it in other ways. With eyes open, there's the voyeuristic appeal of a backstage (or behind the radio) glimpse of amazingly versatile performers, altering their voices, expressing different personalities, and using multiple props for sound effects. Shoes for footsteps, a cupboard for a door sound, a hammer with a bag of glass for a window breaking, and various other ways of making dinner sounds, train noises, phone voices, and cars driving or crashing. There's also organ music for melodramatic undertones.
It might be easier to rent the DVD or watch the movie when it appears again on TV this season. But seeing a live actor (Willie Repoley) perform an uncanny version of Jimmy Stewart as George Bailey, plus many other characters, along with his peers (Maria Buchanan, Michael MacCauley, and Rachelle Roberts) is a special treat. It takes a special skill to shape characters in the mind through voices and sound effects, while also playing the actors performing them. These performers are perfect at it.
The interludes between the movie scenes are even livelier, because they are not so pre-scripted. And yet, if the movie does not charm you, this play won't either—with its depiction of a small town community, a local bank in crisis, a capitalist villain, a good-hearted banker on the verge of suicide, and the angel who earns his wings by making George realize how wonderful his life is and how many people would be changed if he did not exist. Thus, the audience also plays the role of angels, watching from above (like Clarence before he dives to earth to save George), with the power to restore a belief, out-dated or not, in life's wonders. Review by Mark Pizzato
Mark Pizzato is Professor of Theatre at UNC-Charlotte and author of Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain, Theatres of Human Sacrifice, and Inner Theatres of Good and Evil. 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.
A perennial favorite in New York City for the last several years, it was a pleasure to finally get to see Irving Berlin's White Christmas the Musical at Ovens auditorium. It's a sugar cookie of a musical--sweet and seasonal and simple. Those familiar with the 1954 film of the same name starring Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye will find many of their favorite songs here (and more). Lush settings, beautiful costumes, and amazing dancing replace character and plot. The basic plot is simplified from the film and much of the humor is lost because of it. Decisions seemed to be made often just to move the plot forward. Luckily, the audience is never left with enough time to think before there is another show stopping number.
The musical opens "somewhere on the Western Front of World War II" on Christmas Eve. Soldiers Bob Wallace (played by understudy Tony Lawson when I saw it) and Phil David (Denis Lambert) are entertaining the troops with the hosting help of fellow soldier and soon-to-be producer Ralph Sheldrake (played by understudy Andrew Black). We are also introduced to General Henry Waverly (gruff and lovably played by Erick Devine) who speaks to his troops (the audience) with affection. We are rocketed forward ten years and Bob and Phil are now headliners on the Ed Sullivan show. Bob and Phil go to a nightclub to watch a sister act they had been told about and each quickly fall madly in love. Bob with the no-nonsense , unlucky in love Betty (played by Amy Bodnar) and Phil with the come-what-may, always positive Judy (played by Shannon M. O'Bryan). Through an unlikely series of events the star crossed lovers end up at the Columbia Inn in Vermont owned (surprisingly?) by the former General Waverly. That the inn is about to go under due to lack of business should come as a surprise to no one. That the quartet (with the help of a dozen or so others) decide to save the inn by "putting on a show" (in a barn no less), should also not cause shock. The plot is a convenient excuse to put a lot of truly entertaining musical numbers together.
I love Christmas stories. The more sentimental the better. When White Christmas appeared on Broadway, some critics savaged it for it's lack of depth, lack of character, and lack of originality. I thoroughly enjoyed myself from start to finish.
Technically the musical is joyous. Kenneth Foy's sets (based on the award-winning designs of Anna Louizos) are imaginative and spectacular. The barn, in particular, is amazing, as is the lobby of the Columbia Inn. I was surprised by several instances in the performance I saw where walls would shake when doors were closed, drops were not pulled out of sight when other scenes began, and set pieces would move at the slightest touch in the middle of a scene. I assume these technical problems will be smoothed out as the tour progresses. Still, with so many settings, I was happy to see such attention to detail and such creativity. All too often, as I have mentioned before, touring productions pare things down so much that it begins to look like bad summer stock. This is certainly not the case here. Carrie Robbins' costumes are an absolute delight. Set in the 1950s, it would be easy to make an misstep here, yet Ms. Robbins provides some truly remarkable costumes that both fit the characters and look beautiful, too.
Performances are universally solid with an impressive chorus that dance through some fairly long production numbers and never seem out of breath.
Standout performances include Amy Bodnar (Betty) who belts out notes from the bottom of the scale to the top. She is charming and funny and does not ever comment on a character that is out of place in our time; Ruth Williamson nearly steals the show as former showgirl, now innkeeper, Martha Watson. Tony Lawson and Denis Lambert anchor the show well and both carry their own in the numerous production numbers. There are so many Christmas productions competing for our attention at this time, so if you're looking for something that pays loving tribute to the season, but is a little different than the standard fare, you could do worse than to see this sumptuous production. Happy Holidays, all. 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
There is nothing better, theatre-wise, than an auditorium full of children watching a stage intently and laughing. That’s what I saw and heard on a December Sunday afternoon at the Wachovia Playhouse. This version of the classic The Littlest Angel is the reason; a thoroughly charming one hour story of a little scamp entering heaven. He tries to adjust and learn new skills like flying in the clouds, but for him being angelic is going to take work.
The reason he is in heaven is not addressed, but it’s not treated as a sad event. In fact, once he enters heaven he notices that everyone else is serene and happy. The Littlest Angel (Stephen Seay, perfect for the role) disturbs the peace, but annoyance at him is mild. His boyish antics are fun for the audience. He can’t seem to do anything right, and doesn’t fit in with the others.
He finally speaks with another angel who listens and understands the reason for the little guy’s misbehavior. He is homesick. After all, his time on earth was short. I suppose the same is true for angels and little children: if there is acting out, there is something underneath that behavior that is bothering him/her that has not been articulated. Here the Littlest Angel had to leave everything he loved behind. That includes his beloved beat up box of special treasures. When the angels are supposed give a gift to the child who will be born in Bethlehem, the only thing the Littlest Angel has to give is his little box. Yet, because he is willing to give it away it become special.
The regular Tarradiddle Players are joined on stage this time around by Andrea King who fits in seamlessly with the others: Salvador Garcia, Leslie Ann Giles, Darlene Parker, and Stephen Seay. Director Steven Ivey helps the actors capture the best of the simple, sweet story. Heaven is nothing less than blissful in their hands. Review by Ann Marie Oliva
Ann Marie Oliva is an award-winning local playwright with productions across the United States, a published fiction and non-fiction writer, and reviewer. 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 of America.
If you can’t get in the spirit of the season after seeing Scrooge!, all I can say is, what else, ”Bah, humbug!” The lavish (by Charlotte standards) production is a perfect way to spend any limited holiday family entertainment dollars. In fact, the show aptly reflects the themes of Dickens' A Christmas Carol. Money may be limited but if all you have are generous smiles and good cheer, they are free, and go a long way to making others happy in troubled times.
Could there be a more perfect Scrooge than Mark Sutton who plays both curmudgeon and redeemed skinflint with zeal? Then there’s Dennis Delamar’s ghost of Marley. When he first rose from the stage floor a little girl behind me said, “That’s scary,” but within seconds she was laughing at his antics. This particular Marley may be one of the least frightening spirits spending eternity in hell that you will ever see. Kids like to be scared, just not too scared, and Marley fits the bill.
The entire cast is wonderful from Susan Roberts Knowlton’s sparkling Ghost of Christmas Past to Jon Parker Douglas’ Bob Cratchit, James Dracy’s Ghost of Christmas Present, and Yet to Come, Chad Calvert’s Fezziwig & Jollygoode, and Erik N. D’Esterre’s energetic Tom Jenkins and Topper. The younger performers are pros here, too. Noah Carroll is touching as Tiny Tim, Jonathan Ford nicely plays the earnest young Scrooge. We can’t forget the ladies: Sarah Anne Henkel, Hailey York, Caroline Chisholm, Julia Kelly, Teressa Coleman, Sara Reinecke, and well, everyone else on stage!
Much credit goes to director Craig Kolkebeck for casting and managing a large musical production with extensive costumes and complicated sets. Bob Croghan’s scene and costume designs are excellent as well as the sound by Van Coble, Jr., properties by Peter Smeal, lighting by David M. Fillmore, Jr., and the entire technical crew. The musicians, led by Drina Keen delightfully support the singers and the ideal choreography of Ron Chisholm.
When a large production goes this smoothly, you can be sure there has been much hard work for months behind the scenes that the audience has no knowledge of, but we do take in the results and appreciate them. Do see Scrooge! The show reminds us that even if we can’t afford to give to charity this holiday season, we can still pass the gift of our smile on to others. Review by Ann Marie Oliva
Ann Marie Oliva is an award-winning local playwright with productions across the United States, a published fiction and non-fiction writer, and reviewer. 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 of America.
The cast of Every Christmas Story Ever Told is terrific. Chip Bradley, Joe Klosek, and Maret Decker Seitz are multi-talented and work hard for audience approval. Director Craig Spradley always works well with his actors and is especially good at funny sight gags. All the technical elements are excellent, as always, at Actor’s Theatre: set/sound by Chip Decker, costumes by Jamie Varnadore, scenic art by Kate VanderWood Shore, properties design by Carrie Cranford, choreography by Christy Edney, and especially lighting by Hallie Gray.
Here comes the “But”: the show itself is uneven. Maybe that’s inevitable when there are three writers, and who knows how often they work together? Good comedy writing teams take time to develop and are hard to come by. There is no way to know who wrote what, or how it was divided, but that may be the reason several of the less funny scenes were not cut, and the first act goes on too long. Some scenes of the show look like they might have been skits created from improv. They may have been funny during the actual doing, where comedy actors tend to crack each other up thinking things are funnier than they actually are. Other skits have more of a finished quality, some fall flat.
Among the highlights are: a quickie version of the Nutcracker, a rude snowman modeled on comedian Andrew Dice Clay, speed singing of Christmas carols, and intertwined short versions of It’s a Wonderful Life and A Christmas Carol. The show has several interactive bits and one person called up to the stage had a one-line comeback that was as funny as anything in the show.
The audience on opening night was in a great mood and showed their appreciation vocally, after all, this is the season to be jolly. So if you can sit through all of it, you’ll get to the best of it. Review by Ann Marie Oliva
Ann Marie Oliva is an award-winning local playwright with productions across the United States, a published fiction and non-fiction writer, and reviewer. 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 of America.
Ethnic humor has been a staple of New York comedians for years. Jerry Stiller (Jewish) and Anne Meara (Irish) showed us that mixed marriages can be funny. In this case Steve Solomon is the result of such a marriage and the humor in that type of pairing is not lost on him. He’s a pro to be sure, and his delivery and manner make him a likable, down-to-earth guy, but it’s his funny insights about family, everyone’s family that will make you smile. Don’t we all have a slightly off-center Uncle Charlie, or an aunt with a mole on her face?
Yes, some of the jokes are familiar, and there are the almost automatic laughs with the expected “oy vey,” but Mr. Solomon also has an uncanny talent for accents, and many characters join him on stage as he tells us about this friend, that airport personnel, his mother and father, even his ex-wife and children. We generally don’t realize how absurd some of our conversations are until we eavesdrop and really listen. How is it that all older parents are full of genuinely funny malapropisms? Sometimes they don’t hear very well, other times they are so removed from their children’s generation, they have no idea what the kids are talking about.
The audience, more on the parent generation side, was having a blast on opening night, and the Booth was almost filled to capacity. It is a fun evening; the humor is not mean-spirited. On the contrary, the obvious affection is extended to all families, no matter the ethnicity. It's a good way to get in the spirit of the holiday season, and prepare for those family dinners. Review by Ann Marie Oliva
Ann Marie Oliva is an award-winning local playwright with productions across the United States, a published fiction and non-fiction writer, and reviewer. 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 of America.
Why do certain folktales become meaningful across many eras and media? The story of Hansel and Gretel expresses primal fears. The darkness of the woods, where the rule is "eat or be eaten." A witch as the evil twin to a mother's nurturing love. Kids turned into gingerbread cookies. Such horrors cast complex shadows in this charming, mostly light-hearted opera for the whole family. Given that it's from the 1890s by a German composer and his sister (not the Engelbert Humperdinck you might think), and based on a folktale from the Brothers Grimm, also lends an eerie echo to the idea of children collected by a witch and cooked in an oven.
In this production, CPCC brings a huge cast to the stage, with many talented voices and fine acting, along with wondrous sets, a sparkling array of costumes, angelic dancers, and a children's chorus. Daidree Tofano plays Hansel with many boyish mannerisms, mischievous defiance, and yet a profoundly resonant voice. Jenny Chen is equally impressive as Gretel, with a sweetly matched voice to Hansel's, but a distinct attitude about their initial hunger at home, their fear in the woods, and their task of outwitting the witch.
Many others deserve mention. Brian Jeddeloh plays an expressive father figure with a booming voice, who knows the danger of witches in the woods with brooms like the ones he makes. Karen Erbe portrays the Sandman, who lovingly sings the fugitive Hansel and Gretel to sleep. Their prayers also invoke many angels to watch over them—as supernatural counters to the harsh mother at home. Yet Dale Bryant as the green, hook-nosed witch, Rosina Daintymouth, becomes a commanding presence, beyond the good spirits of the woods, in luring the kids to a candy home, fattening them for a feast, and salivating while singing so wickedly.
When Hansel and Gretel first run away from home, the artful trees with overlapping branches, along with cute kids in bunny and squirrel costumes, make the fearsome woods seem cheerfully palatable. That irony is increased when the siblings reach the witch's house and taste its domestic treats. Not noticing her awful visage, wigless in the window, they hear her nasty glee in catching them as merely "the wind" speaking. Yet, their confident cleverness, when aware of the mortal threat in the witch's controlling wand, is also inspiring—and poignant. After they trick the witch with her own recipe, smoke rises from the oven and the gingerbread kids, as prior victims, get to be real again.
You're in for a delicious treat if you catch this opera in its brief weekend run. Bring kids with you for the fun. But also notice the eerie mirrors in the cheerful scenes and beautiful singing. Despite the crafty dessert, this opera reflects how our fetishizing of youth, as well as other ideal sweets, in the mass media today, parallels a wicked folktale—but hopefully not, ever again, like with the victims of certain ovens a half century ago.
And yet, we'll continue to fatten the kids in us and around us this holiday season (without much concern for other children caught in poverty around the world). So, watch out for that witch! Review by Mark Pizzato
Mark Pizzato is Professor of Theatre at UNC-Charlotte and author of Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain, Theatres of Human Sacrifice, and Inner Theatres of Good and Evil. 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.
"You freak!" You've probably heard it at some point in your life, maybe even said it. At some level, we're all alienated. And tempted, with others, to feel superior by finding a scapegoat. Nowadays, it happens through the mass media, the tabloids, and the Internet, as well as in local communities of gossip and ostracism. A couple centuries ago, and more recently, it happened through the theatre of freak shows. The new CAST production of The Elephant Man (a play, also a David Lynch film, from 1979) draws the audience into that nineteenth-century world of freak show display, yet also turns it inside out, to reflect how such alienation and scapegoating, through science and morality, is still with us.
With a repainted lobby, the illusion of stone blocks and mortar extend wall to wall and across the floor. A mural of houses with occasionally rising fog also sets the environment around the CAST bar as a London pub in Dickensian times. Freak show signs advertise a man who's half human, half elephant. Their red and white banners continue into the small arena, also framing video screens across from each of the four audience sections. Spectators get a rat for their ticket to see this play about an actual person who suffered from deformities of his head and right side, so severe that he appeared inhuman. Yet he also acts like the mirrors in the lobby, with his distortions revealing how each of us is human and animal, angel and devil.
Hank West plays John (originally Joseph) Merrick, gradually distorting his body in front of us while photos of the actual "Elephant Man" are shown onscreen above him. Throughout the show, the cello playing of Matthew Lavin, in one corner of the arena, evokes primal emotional ties between human animals—as spectators add to the performance what they imagine of Merrick's appearance, pain, and perspective. The play leads us from the cruel display of the Elephant Man as an enslaved freak to his rescue by a scientist, his security and art-making in a hospital room, his friendship with an actress and fame through her elite contacts, his loss of her kindness after the scientist catches her exposing her breasts to him, and his death. The play's fragmentary scenes, with initial titles onscreen, provoke questions about the theatrical, scientific, and (im)moral desires shown onstage, reflecting ours today, even as spectators sympathize with the wounded celebrity at its center.
Charles LaBorde is also compelling as Ross, the barker who first exhibits the "indecent" Elephant Man to the public. He cruelly commands him, yet later becomes a more complex villain, showing his dependency upon his former victim—and offering the insight that we are all "whores" like him in some way. Bradley James Archer is likewise fascinating as Dr. Frederick Treves, who saves Merrick, restoring his humanity, yet studies him objectively, gives him firm rules, and takes away the person who connects most with the man inside the beast. Cynthia Farbman Harris portrays that person, Mrs. Kendal, who sees through the deformities and draws out the sensitive, artistic nature of Merrick. Her beauty thus transforms the beast into a celebrity visited by the elite, who bring gifts, yet also fix him as distinguished due to his strangeness. When the actress tries to go further by baring her beauty to Merrick more intimately, offering him "paradise," the moral gates close shut and he falls back into his animality—through the scientists condemnation—and towards his death. Farbman Harris adds a wondrous aria to the cello at that point, increasing the poignancy of the play's tragicomic twists.
Many other performers playing multiple characters add to this poetic mosaic. Tom Moody, Elizabeth Peterson-Vita, and Buddy Hanson are especially elastic in changing roles. The period costumes designed by Wendy Yang and director Michael Harris are elaborately varied. Sound and visual effects by Jay Thomas increase the play's passionate intimacies (with heart beats and flickering Merrick photos) and alienation effects (with other images and titles). The lights designed by Michael Simmons, shining upward also from audience aisles, shape the play's quick shifts and strange forms. In these and various other ways, this well-known drama and its freak show gain new dimensions on the CAST stage today, through a current mass-mediated audience. Review by Mark Pizzato
Mark Pizzato is Professor of Theatre at UNC-Charlotte and author of Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain, Theatres of Human Sacrifice, and Inner Theatres of Good and Evil. 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.
Having not seen any former theatrical production of Dreamgirls, I was beyond excited for the opportunity to be in attendance on opening night. Since I was approximately 3 minutes late, I was summonsed to the late-comers section which was behind the last row on the Orchestra level.
This legendary production originally debuted on December 20, 1981 at the Imperial Theatre in Manhattan, NY with Jennifer Holliday as Effie White, Sheryl Lee Ralph as Deena Jones, and Loretta Divine as Lorrell Robinson. Jennifer Holliday went on to win a Tony Award for Best Lead Actress as well as a Grammy Award for Best Female Performance, R&B. In 2006, the play was adapted into a motion picture. Former American Idol Jennifer Hudson played the role of Effie White for which she captured an Oscar. R&B Singer Beyonce’ played Deena Jones and Anika Noni Rose portrayed Lorrell Robinson.
With singing group The Stepp Sisters opening the show belting out a fast number wearing turquoise mermaid sequined gowns, they set the pace for the evening. Effie, Lorrell and Deena enter as young, naïve teenyboppers attempting to compete with big timers. The girls are mesmerized as the sexy, mature women saunter across the stage and realize they are small fish in a huge pond and must get their acts together, pun intended, and fast if they want to be the stars they have always dreamed of being.
When the girls lose their first competition, they are approached by Curtis Taylor, Jr., a human vulture who silently preys on the women to secure his place in the entertainment industry. He also eventually acquires Jimmy “Thunder’ Early from his manager, who fast steals the show and becomes the life of the production, start to finish. Jimmy is the typical fast-talking, skirt-chasing, womanizing crooner with slick hair, and an even slicker voice. He manages to woo the tot of the group, Lorrell, and convince her to be his lady. Chester Gregory, who played Early in the production, owned the character and made the audience forget all about Eddie Murphy’s version of the same character in the film. He interacted with the audience beautifully even with unexpected outbursts from excited patrons.
From Curtis Taylor, Jr., played by Chaz Lamar Shepherd, discovering the group at the Apollo Theater to cities across the country, the women are taken on a whirlwind tour of ups and downs over the span of several years. The group changes along with the times and some learn a hard lesson about life and show business.
As with any theatre production, the set designers and directors have to be quite inventive in order to quickly move a story that has to be entertaining and captivating at the same time. I found it a great use of space when the entire platform doubled as both backstage and stage front with a large mechanical partition that divided to let the players enter and exit freely. Although the set was actually barebones, you would never know it because the mechanical partition also served as a backdrop of special effects showcasing colorful, exploding sparkles for the musical performances, a broadcasting television screen, a lifelike highway complete with streetlights for the groups many road trips, and numerous other realistic scenes. The only other props were microphone stands, a translucent table and chairs, brass musical instruments, briefcases, and media cameras used when bombarding the newfound group.
Throughout the show, I was thoroughly surprised that there were no visible stumbles, forgotten lines, or mishaps especially because it was opening night in a new city, although the show has been running for several months across the country.
Understanding the film had more flexibility and time to tell the story, the play seemed to rush along to be sure to include most pertinent scenes and songs. Always a crowd favorite, “And I Am Telling You, I’m Not Going” was staunchly thrown from the lungs of Effie played by Moya Angela, but seemed to be at a more rapid pace than the original sung by Jennifer Holliday and even Jennifer Hudson. Make no mistake, the tune is just as passionate and heartfelt, but I would have loved to simmer in it just a little longer than allowed.
There are a few things missing from the production, but not enough that one would truly long for them. The costumes are beyond fabulous and I’m confident they made every woman wish for a time capsule to revisit the era or at least a few hours in their dressing rooms for a little time to play dress up.
If you have never seen the production of this award-winning play or even the film with the same accolades, every woman should plan a girl’s night out (or intimate date) and every man should treat a lady and both prepare for a great show. Review by Dawn Cauthen
Dawn Cauthen is a freelance writer in the Charlotte area currently working on a screenplay, a novel, and many freelance articles. She earned her MFA in Creative Writing with a concentration in Writing for Stage and Screen from Queens University of Charlotte. Her writing has appeared in Uptown Magazine and she enjoys reviewing theater productions, movies, and loves most things artistic.
With all the problems in the world today, why not take a trip back a thousand years? In the Priseaux monastery of France, the monks have a problem that might entertain us: the relics of St. Foy are no longer working for them. No miracles for 13 years. Few pilgrims. A funding crisis vis-à-vis a crisis in faith. What's worse, a nearby convent, run by the sister of the Priseaux abbot, seems to have stolen the saint's holy bones, after a thief switched them with others. That crime has somehow revived their miraculous powers of faith, healing, and wealth—for the monk's rivals, the "backwoods nuns."
Sitting in an arena space, just two rows deep, around the monastery's chapter house, Charlotte spectators watch one another watching the show, like ghosts of the future beyond the four imaginary walls. Arches depict doorways. Stone corners and the sandstone colored floor define a room from 1250 A.D.—yet also suggest ruins of the past coming to life (in a set designed by director Peter Smeal). The monks at first wear robes and crosses that show their poverty, but when their fortunes turn, through a darkly comical trick, there's a marked improvement in their costumes (designed by Luci Wilson). The bare bones on the "altar" (a simple table that's almost center stage), have lost their power, but they're soon replaced by body parts from the graveyard. These are exchanged for wealth as newly discovered relics of saints, going back to biblical times. When they run out, even fresher meat is found, a corpse so holy that it's "incorruptible," which might bring the Pope's blessing to catapult the monastery into greater fame and sacredness.
Such are the macabre twists of this delightfully dark comedy, with eerie echoes of today's concerns about the sinister temptations of religion, politics, economics, and bodily sacrifice. Tom Scott is marvelous as the pompous, duplicitous, yet earnest Abbot Charles. Joe Copley provides a fine counter as the stricter, upright, but even more ready to cheat, former butcher's son, Brother Martin. Matthew Corbett wins over the audience with his bumbling, naïve, yet sincere oafishness as Brother Olf. Lee Thomas shows the most change as Brother Felix, who moves from a suicidal past, through faith, to romantic rebirth. Chaz Pofahl, Joanna Gerdy, Glynnis O'Donoghue, and Julie Janorschke Gawle also add to the redemptive farce as a one-eyed minstrel, his partner, her mother, and the rival abbess of Bernay.
The show's lighting seems very bright for a monastery in the "dark ages." (But a colored pattern on the floor is a nice addition in Act Two, indicating a stain in monastic beliefs with new stained-glass wealth in the chapter house windows.) Sacks for switched bodies are sometimes not convincingly filled. And the actors might have played to the audience more, to avoid arena sightline problems and to add comic irony in millennial parallels. More sound effects, such as Gregorian chants and echoing stone footsteps, might also make the past, and its sacrificial temptations, intersect with present desires at the edges of the stage. Yet this production is a good stretch for Collaborative Arts, from its summer Shakespeare offerings to an earlier period in Western history. It reflects, through a different cosmic window, our struggle today to believe in goodness, even in miracles, despite economic tricks and religious betrayals. Review by Mark Pizzato
Mark Pizzato is Professor of Theatre at UNC-Charlotte and author of Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain, Theatres of Human Sacrifice, and Inner Theatres of Good and Evil. 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.
It’s a cliché that when a man hits his midlife crisis, he buys a new car or starts an affair with a younger woman. But what about when women hit the midlife rut? This play finds comic gold in the premise that a new car may be the metaphor for a woman trying out the possibilities of an affair with charming, wealthy man, her age or older, while still married to a loving, caring husband.
Becky Foster first charms the audience with her direct address, including us as guests in her home as she explains her life—yet is repeatedly interrupted by phone calls, a leaking roof, and paperwork in her job at a car dealership. Catherine Smith plays this character with engaging cheerfulness, despite her hollow routine at home and hectic stress at work. She is onstage almost the entire play, yet never tires nor becomes tiring to watch. Her son, Chris, is a live at home grad student, who throws psychobabble terms at his mom and everyone else. Yet, the script and actor Patrick Hogan present him, too, as comically engaging with a sincerely good nature—even when in conflict with his parents.
Becky’s husband, Joe, is a roofer, who hasn’t gotten around to fixing the leaks at home. Billy Ensley makes Joe much more than just a working class bread-winner or beer-drinker. He’s attentive to his wife, with a soothing smile and hug, which makes it even harder for her to cheat on him, and makes it funnier—though more challenging—for the audience to go along, complicit with her betrayal.
Indeed, she invites individuals from the audience to help her with a bucket for the leaking roof, with papers from work, and with dressing onstage—changing into a lovely gown for her new Prince Charming. The costume designs (by Jamie Varnadore) are ideal here and throughout the play. So is the set (by Chip Decker), with its small added thrust for audience access to the central living room and with other levels (and ramps to them) for Becky’s office at the dealership and for her new friend’s lakeside porch. Part of the farce comes from Becky running between these areas—as the lights signify theatrical magic for leaps in time and place, which the character plays with, in her narration to the audience and signals to the control booth behind them.
Jerry Colbert is even more charming as Becky’s temptation, Walter Flood, a widower who assumes she’s widowed also and persuades her, with his wealth, his fondness for his lost wife, and his insights about midlife loneliness to meet with him—as more than a car buyer. He also woos the audience with comic naiveté about gift-buying and many other things, using movie sayings as malapropisms, due to his sheltered upper-class blindness. Yet, he offers precise insights, too, such as “things narrow as we age,” and treasures each moment of possibility with Becky, along with memories of his deceased wife (even keeping a popsicle he once shared with her), as more meaningful than all his wealth.
Steve (played by Mike Corrigan with slumped shoulders and craning head) is equally funny as Becky’s coworker who can’t stop talking about his lost wife and their healthy hikes together, offering repeated slide shows to his current friends. Abigail Pagan and Katherine Harrison round out the cast as Walter’s daughter, who falls in love with Becky’s son, complicating the secret affair, and as Ginger, another friend of Walter and a fallen socialite.
Even more than usual with the very wide stage at Actor’s Theatre, sightlines in the side seats can be frustrating—though intimacy is the benefit for all. With this comedy, events real and metaphorical get wilder and funnier, in many metatheatrical ways, as the climactic showdown nears and secret relations are exposed. Becky has involved the audience along the way with her difficult decisions, and so we’re eventually tied up, too, in her self-sabotaging tricks with lovers and cars. Even Joe makes brief asides to the audience, which build into his taking charge of the broken fourth wall, yet also patching its leaks and making a frame for a happy, if not fully forgiving, ending. Thus, at various levels this show entertains merrily and yet deals with dicey issues of love, parenting, loss, betrayal, and hope for new life midway through one’s journey. Review by Mark Pizzato
Mark Pizzato is Professor of Theatre at UNC-Charlotte and author of Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain, Theatres of Human Sacrifice, and Inner Theatres of Good and Evil. 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.
Those wacky Reduced Shakespeare guys are back, but this time they are skewering the history of sports. Make no mistake, though, this comedy team is as precise as a synchronized swimming team that they parody, only funnier. Their comedic timing especially is to be admired as the three run on and off stage separately, in an out of doorways, with different outfits and props. They even have an interactive bit where people are chosen from the audience to participate in the skits. The audience members go along with good humor because the comedian/actors have created enough good will in the first act and have warmed up the audience well.
I’m a marginal sports fan of some sports, but pretty strong for others. (There were plenty of women in the audience.) Yet, I enjoyed the screwball nonsense of all the sports parodied on stage dating back to the caveman, even if some were rather “sports light”. Of course, there were jokes about the Panthers (who could resist), and some humor specific to Charlotte that got big laughs.
Sports have always been entertainment, yet we’re all aware of people who take them very, very seriously. But, without rabid fans sports would not be the giant industry it has become. It’s fun then, to relax and just let the Reduced Shakespeare Company do a job on our extreme nature. I would have liked to have seen something more about the competitive drive that pushes men to act like crazed fools in front of televisions or in sports bars, but maybe that’s a bit too much reality to interject.
You’ve probably heard the cliché that drama is easy, comedy is hard; Mr. Martin, Mr. Rippy, and Mr. Tichenor do comedy well, and make it look easy. This is an entertaining night out for everyone. Review by Ann Marie Oliva
Ann Marie Oliva is an award-winning playwright with productions across the United States, a published fiction and non-fiction writer, and reviewer. 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 of America.
Every now and then, if you’re lucky and the stars align just right, you get the chance to witness a legend in action. Someone whose abilities supersede talent and skill and become something almost elemental. Someone who has had a profound impact on the field in which they work. I can say, without a trace of hyperbole, that Lily Tomlin is that legendary figure.
Still, one does not expect a legend to be so gracious and unassuming. Tomlin began the show by bowing and thanking the audience profusely; hopping excitedly from foot to foot; and bowing deeply and humbly despite the waves of adulation and applause tumbling over her.
It is nearly impossible to believe she is seventy-one years of age. Her energy is as boundless and frenetic as it has ever been and her wit as sharp. Even the moments of forgetfulness that occurred throughout last night’s performance seemed organic and planned and surely were not the signs of age. The few times she stumbled, she would stop the show, fall back and slip right into the character or monologue that had been omitted assuring us that it was necessary to retain the shape and arc of the show. It was this sense that Tomlin was the architect or sculptor and we were simply witnessing her work that energized the show with an immediacy that overcame the source material (which in its essence was Tomlin’s greatest hits—-a pastiche of previous characters, comic bits, and video clips from her extensive past).
Technically Tomlin’s performances are always Spartan. A stool, a padded pedestal, two water bottles, a screen to project on, the barest hint of a pipe organ, and minimal lighting. Tomlin herself is dressed in black slacks and blouse and her makeup is almost non-existent . Everything in the production is dependent on the actor, some brilliant sounds effects, and the words.
During a video intro, Tomlin runs us through her history, highlighting some of her more notable characters, and telling us that the characters have always had a life beyond her own. She tells the audience that she has finally come to peace with this, and decides to give the “audience what they want.” What follows is a collection of familiar material and characters: Edith Ann, Agnes Angst, Ernestine, and Trudy the bag lady to name just a few. And who would have it any other way? It was like getting to meet all of your imaginary childhood friends, only they are real.
The production is nearly two hours long and could probably benefit from some judicious trimming, but when one is in the presence of genius you’re more or less at their mercy. All I can really say is if you have the opportunity to see her, don’t hesitate. There are probably less than a dozen comics that even approach her level. She makes you laugh and makes you think, and above all gives you faith in the human spirit. 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.
Hey, man, this is some good stuff. And not just for stoners. In fact, it offers much more musical satire madness than marijuana mellowness. And it's about parental fears of Dionysian forces more than joints or clouds of smoke.
1930s-style posters adorn the black back-curtain of the shallow bare set, with erotic movie warnings. Marijuana is called "The Assassin of Youth," "The Burning Question," "The Pace that Kills," "Destroyer of Souls," and "The Love Weed"—causing "wild passions," "shattered hopes," "weird orgies," "tangled lives," and "society beauties by day" to become "party girls by night." Then a Lecturer at Benjamin Harrison High School in 1936 makes the current theatre audience stand to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. He lectures us and shows us a play about how dangerous the "weed" is as the "Real Public Enemy Number One," which is "creeping like a communist" through our communities, "savagely deflowering the USA."
Such righteous paranoia may ring uncanny echoes in audience ears today. But it's only the beginning of the time-warp parody. As the Lecturer (Tom Ollis) accuses Mary Jane, through song, of "turning all our children into hooligans and whores," a chorus of zombie-masked dancers reveals the undead effects of the danger drug in their spastic gestures. Such marvelously funny yet strangely seductive choreography (by Alyson Lowe and Robbie Jaeger) builds throughout the show, making each musical number a satirical delight. Aubrey Young in the ensemble is especially skillful with the variety of styles displayed, from zombie stomps to period dances to hula and much more.
The "Garden of Young Love" is shown next, with an overly sweet duet between the teenagers Jimmy Harper (Jonathan Van Caudill) and Mary Lane (Bettina Martin), as he helps her understand Shakespeare's play about star-crossed lovers. But Jimmy is lured, with the promise of dance lessons from a stranger named Jack Stone (Steven Martin), into a "weed den." The play parodies film noir then, with a seductive blonde femme fatale named Sally (Alyson Lowe), who is so enamored with marijuana that she ignores her crying baby offstage, while drawing Jimmy into the drug's illusory, erotic powers. A fellow denizen, Mae (Brianna Smith), sings about how she ought to leave Jack, but he keeps giving her lingerie and "the stuff." And then, a Placard Girl (Karen Christensen) parades across the stage like at a boxing match—in a Brechtian gag that works again and again throughout the show—with a sign this time that warns: "Reefer gets you raped and you won't care."
All these characters, along with the increasingly insidious Ralph Wiley (Robby Jaeger) and the ironic superstars Bacchus and Jesus (Kristian Wedolowski), are performed as delightful caricatures with sympathetic and sardonic twists. Jimmy's convulsive contortions as he first partakes in the drug lead to his own hand becoming an object of fascination—and then an explosion of wild dancing around him with a tribal drummer, warriors and girls in grass skirts, and a horned, goat-legged Bacchus/Pan figure taking over as they all sing about the "one-way ticket to the bacchanal." The suddenly perverse Jimmy shows his girlfriend Mary Lane—and his mom—new moves with a French kiss. Mary sings in church about an exciting sermon and yet her loneliness there without Jimmy. He and Ralph then steal cash from the poor box. When caught by a priest, Jimmy has a vision of Jesus coming down from the cross to lure him back toward goodness: to take "a hit of god," instead of Mary Jane. But Jimmy replies that he has a "new god."
In Act Two, Jimmy goes "on the lam" after he and Sally hit an old man with a stolen car. The audience is offered brownies by the dancers (when Jimmy discovers their power) and later Jesus gives out hosts as "my body." Such ironic communion rites infect Mary Lane as well, with Mary Jane turning the sweet teen into a dominatrix. They reach a climax when Ralph, with the weed munchies, becomes a slasher-film cannibal. Yet his victim Sally (who's continually intriguing as both character and dancer) returns after death, joining the ensemble onstage with one arm missing but holding her severed head back in place with the other. There's even more horror-movie parody when Mae de-livers Ralph, but you'll just have to see that to disbelieve it. Even Uncle Sam, George Washington, and Lady Liberty appear for the musical finale—adding to the astounding range of costumes here by designer Eric Grace. The four-person band in the balcony (and musical director Marty Gregory) also deserves kudos, for keeping this madness in tune.
Neither the production nor the play considers racism in the historical roots of marijuana phobia. Some of the singing voices are not as strong as others and the comical lyrics are sometimes hard to catch. But if you like satirical musicals with fast action, surprises, and many talented performers, don't miss this sensuous, hilarious, politically insightful feast. Just don't let your kids see it, because you know how infectious Mary Jane, Dionysus, and Jesus can be. Review by Mark Pizzato
Mark Pizzato is Professor of Theatre at UNC-Charlotte and author of Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain, Theatres of Human Sacrifice, and Inner Theatres of Good and Evil. 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.
It’s another solid, sparkling season opener as Children’s Theatre brings Aladdin to the McColl Theatre stage. Guest director Stephen Gundersheim expertly brings all the elements together transporting the audience to a distant place and time where all manner of magic is possible.
The story of Aladdin, a middle-eastern folk tale, comes from The Book of a Thousand and One Arabian Nights that we probably all remember from childhood. Since the origin of the story is unknown there are countless versions, and in some cases the ending differs but the basic plot remains. The fact that Aladdin steals so he can survive is attributed to the Sultan being out of touch with his people. As such, Aladdin must survive by his wits. Street smarts, bravery, and a true heart get him through winning his true love. Often in fairy tales, it is the most downtrodden who are “pure” or “true” in some way who emerge victorious, while the rich and powerful are corrupt because they forget their humanity. Hmmm...
The Sultan (Jake Yara) tells Princess Jasmine (Cassandra Howley Wood) she must pick a husband and parades some unsavory princes in front of her. Having a mind of her own, she rejects all of them. Aladdin (Erik N. D’Esterre) is a young thief pursued by the Sultan’s solders. He and the Princess manage to escape the marketplace together and have a few minutes alone where they fall in love. (Things happen quickly in folk tales.) In the meantime, the evil Jafar (Mark Sutton) with help from his parrot Iago (Nicia Carla), want to keep Princess Jasmine from marrying so he ousts the Sultan by some ancient law and becomes Sultan himself. After Aladdin is captured and locked in a cave he discovers the magic lamp, rubs it and a sassy Genie (Jalila A. Bowie) appears to grant him three wishes.
As usual, the technical aspects of the show are first rate, especially the scenic design by Ryan Wineinger, lighting by David M. Fillmore, Jr., and costumes by Jennifer K. Matthews. Musical director Drina Keen and musicians are excellent, yet sometimes a tad too loud for the voices, even with microphones.
The talented cast make the production shine. Erik N. D’Esterre is just right as Aladdin, as non-threatening a thief as you’ll ever see. Cassandra Howley Wood is a spunky, appealing Princess. Olivia Edge has a strong voice and presence as the Narrator. Mark Sutton’s Jafar is a mean villain, but not enough to scare the youngest audience members because Nicia Carla’s pairing with him brings enough comedy to their shenanigans. The crowd pleaser, though, is Jalila A. Bowie as the Genie. This genie not only walks, but struts around the stage, taking nothing away from the magic. It is also good to see two younger actors, Sam Faulkner as the Magic Carpet, and Caroline Farley as Abu the monkey included on stage with adult actors.
I wish the production lasted longer than an hour. I wanted to stay in that world. Review by Ann Marie Oliva
Ann Marie Oliva is an award-winning local playwright with productions across the United States, a published fiction and non-fiction writer, and reviewer. 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 of America.
Have you ever imagined what the afterlife might be like? In this play from 1970, which became a PBS-TV show (with bare breasts) in 1973 and a Showtime cable series in 1983, the afterlife is a sauna and God is a Puerto Rican janitor. As in Sartre's existentialist play, No Exit (1944), afterlife personalities steam up the bath by antagonizing one another, while trapped by the walls of the set and memories of what they've lost in life. But this postmodern tragicomedy is more light-hearted. The afterlife is not a hell of other people, but a limbo of bodily ideals and dangers—with a nude woman in a shower, proudly dancing gay men, remnant romantic dreams, and old men quarrelling about farts or discarded orange peels, seeds, and toenails.
Lots of implications might be raised by the juxtaposition of various body types in towels, mystical steam, hygiene anxieties, reflective storytelling, and a whimsical God. The play is mostly, though, in this production, fun and games. Yet that also says a lot about doubt and faith, panic and fate in the 21st century, especially with the revival of religious extremism in various forms after 9/11. The play's references have been updated to our own pop culture (for example, Dancing with the Stars). Questions about God's desires for and possible interventions in human life are evoked through his mischievous tinkering with traffic accidents using a portable oscilloscope. So, although characters (especially the women) are mostly two-dimensional here and offered for laughs or sexiness, metaphysical punches are sometimes thrown—above and below the Bible belt.
Michael Simmons staged this play nearly a decade ago in the cavernous space of NoDa's Neighborhood Theatre. (He also staged No Exit more recently.) But this time CAST's intimate thrust stage brings the audience inside the steamy, slippery afterlife—as does the remade lobby with bath towel attendants greeting spectators at the door. The lobby and set design, by Robert Lee Simmons, conveys both pleasure and oppression, with misty air, black tile benches, white floors and walls (with dirt in the grout), pristine columns, and a self-closing door with red-lit mist behind it for the ultimate exit of the still-embodied souls. Costumes, designed by Autumn Dawn, though mostly made of towels, are specific to each of the characters—as they reveal their eccentricities and then dissolve into the elsewhere behind the door. Only God (J.R. Adduci) and the lead soul Tandy (Christian Casper) are left onstage at the end—with God playing solitaire and Tandy still fighting his fate, with courage and doubt.
Adduci plays God with a commanding presence and great style, evoking the mystery of what He really wants, enjoys, or suffers regarding His human subjects. Shannon Wightman-Girard adds much to the show, as the seductive yet naïve Meredith, while taking her shower, talking with Tandy, or watching the others intensely, learning about life, before and after death. Jim Esposito and Bill McNeff, as Old Timer and Bieberman, provide riotous gags and cultural insights, as wise fools in a stage of life well past maturity.
The rest of the cast holds the play together well, despite the script's variety show twists. And music (with sound design by Michael Simmons) plays a key role, from meditative Japanese notes at the start of the play to baroque organ blasts when God shows his power. So does the omnipresent hospitality of CAST, embracing, teasing, and shocking the audience once again in this production—about matters of life, death, and the hereafter (with free pizza included on Fridays). Review by Mark Pizzato
Mark Pizzato is Professor of Theatre at UNC-Charlotte and author of Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain, Theatres of Human Sacrifice, and Inner Theatres of Good and Evil. 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.
First a disclaimer. I am a huge fan of Dolly Parton and the 1980 film version of “9 to 5” and judging from the Tuesday opening night crowd at Ovens Auditorium, I’m not the only one. And in this updated tale of three unlikely friends set in the disco year of 1979, Ms. Parton does not disappoint.
From a giant visage of Ms. Parton appearing periodically to comment on the action, to a copy machine roughly the size of a bus and including some very large hair and breasts, everything about this piece is oversized. The trio of actresses reprising the roles made famous in the movie by Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin and Dolly Parton, have Broadway quality voices and do a credible job as actresses and dancers. Dee Hoty plays much put upon office manager Violet Newstead. Diana DeGarmo, a runner-up for season three of American Idol, plays Doralee Rhodes; a misunderstood country girl who everyone thinks is sleeping with the evil boss. Mamie Parris plays Judy Bernly the newly hired, recently divorced secretary.
The plot is simple: women treated unfairly and sexually harassed on the job by sexist pig Franklin Hart, Jr., played by Joseph Mahowald, take creative revenge. They kidnap the male chauvinist and tie him up in his bedroom with the help of a garage door opener. While he is out of the way, they go about fixing their place of employment including rehab for their lush co-worker Margaret, and daycare. Throw into the mix Hart’s devoted and hilarious toady Roz played by Kristine Zbornik and an enthusiastic ensemble of co-workers. When Hart escapes the audience knows our plucky heroines will make everything work out in the end.
The story doesn’t have to be complicated; in fact the dramatic action is really secondary because everyone is there for the singing and the dancing which is fantastic. Dolly Parton’s touch is on every lyric. Diana DeGarmo sounds and looks so much like Dolly Parton it’s almost frightening. When she sang “Backwoods Barbie”, if I had closed my eyes I would have sworn it was Dolly singing. The cast dances through almost every scene and scene change and kudos go to choreographer and director Jeff Calhoun and his co-choreographer Lisa Stephens.
As Dolly tells us as she beams down at the beginning of the show, this is from a time when blackberries and apples were something she picked out behind the barn. So many things have changed in the past 30 years, but fighting for equality in the workplace is still a relevant theme and when it can be presented so entertainingly, you really should go out and enjoy it! Review by Laura Pfizenmayer
Laura Pfizenmayer is a South Carolina playwright and freelance writer. She is a partner in Hometown Promotions, LLC.
What do we value in a painting? The personal joys and reflections it invokes? Or its historical pedigree and current market price? A new Charlotte performance group offers the area premiere of this play—a romantic comedy cum well-made mystery with a meta-artistic twist. Paintings by area artists also line the walls of Story Slam to resonate with the perceptual questions this play raises about nude beauty onstage and on canvas.
The small set, on one side of the Story Slam room, portrays the artist's (Winston's) side of a tiny New York apartment, shared with a failed realtor (Jamie) who's the son of a wealthy art dealer. There's a futon on the floor, a bookshelf with art books and paints, sketches and prints taped to the walls, a messy desk with many brushes standing in cups, a bare wooden puppet-model of the human form, and a small fridge under the desk.
Winston (Kirk Dickens) talks for the first time at length with Amelia (Greta Marie Zandstra), his roommate's girlfriend of the past six months. Then their common friend, Jamie (Jonavan Adams), comes home from the reading of his dad's Will, where he got nothing. But Jamie brings gifts of pastries and coffees for his friends, and then lures them into a plan to make up for the lost windfall of funds, which they all desperately need. Winston, an art student who has already been copying a painting by the French Fauvist Credeaux for art class, will invent a new one, forging it as one of the nudes the artist put on canvas a century ago to pay off his gambling debts. Before coming home, Jamie bumped into his father's former client, Tess (Joanna Gerdy), who's eager to buy a lost Credeaux, believing the market price for such a masterpiece will soon rise. Jamie plans to fool her by pretending that his dad gave him the artwork without telling anyone. He also proposes that Amelia pose nude for Winston's forgery.
In this double ménage, with Amelia as the focus of different desires, both in life and art, subtle looks, hesitations, small gestures, and shifting tones of voice might mean a great deal. The actors here, rushing through the lines and playing emotions mostly on one level, lose opportunities to explore how Jamie desires Amelia for her beauty (as he says), yet perhaps not through a full sense of love (as Winston tells her, when she asks him). Or how Winston desires Amelia through an artist's eyes, which may be more the love she wants, as an aspiring singer seeking, like him, to be valued as an artist, but "already becoming a shadow." And how that dynamic shifts when Amelia poses nude for Winston and he takes his clothes off also, while initially sketching her. Or as she confesses to him (before telling Jamie and while naked with Winston onstage) that she's pregnant with Jamie's child.
Adams does bring a Mephistophelian charm as Jamie, initially luring his friends into crime. Zandstra plays Amelia's bashfulness well, and then her leap into self-exposure. Dickens (though he mispronounces “fauvist”) shows Winston's obsessive passion to understand and imitate great art, while being foolish about human relationships. In Act 2, when Gerdy appears as Tess, she gives a good parody of an elitist's view of art. She almost swoons at minute details in the painting, yet shows suspicion at its hints of later styles, and hubris at her own "genius" in discovering the dead artist's—though she devalues the live one beside her.
Why Tess then writes a check for another painting by Winston, which she had denigrated before, or what she may realize about her own desires in discovering the forgery, is not developed by Gerdy. She even made the error, on opening night, of showing there was a landscape on the canvas, instead of a nude, when she failed to keep its back to the audience.
There are some fine moments in this show. When the characters contemplate the forged masterpiece, set on an easel so that the audience can't see it, their passionate words, gazes, suspicions, and beliefs inspire laughter, mystery, and an imagined painting in spectators' minds. The actors show bravery, too, in performing sans clothing onstage. But the director and his cast may have rushed this play into production, without fully exploring its contradictions and insights, like the mistakes made by Winston in his forgery of Credeaux. (The Woody Allen movie, “Vicky Cristina Barcelona,” could be considered in comparison, since it also raises comical and troubling issues about unusual mixtures of eroticism, love, and artistic desire, going awry.) Review by Mark Pizzato
Mark Pizzato is Professor of Theatre at UNC-Charlotte and author of Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain, Theatres of Human Sacrifice, and Inner Theatres of Good and Evil. 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.
Based on the hit television program, Whose Line is it Anyway?, this hilarious evening features four masters of improvisation doing what they do best. It is a ninety-minute performance featuring some of the favorite games from the program. Whose Line is it Anyway was originally a BBC production that ran for ten years (hosted by Clive Anderson) and then transferred to the United States (hosted by Drew Carry) where it ran an additional eight seasons. For those who love improvisation, the program was always a highlight and it was an intense pleasure to see four of the regular cast members return to what has arguably made them famous.
The format is only slightly different than the television show. Greg Proops, the first North American to appear on the BBC version, acts as host and participant. His curmudgeonly behavior throughout the show creates a nice comic tension. He is both friend and enemy of the audience and is more than willing to throw out some devastating observations. He was happy to ridicule a latecomer who had the audacity to wear shorts to the performance. He asked if they were his “special Saturday shorts—after all you’re going to the theatre.” He also stopped the performance to point out a woman texting in the front row, he mentioned he would be happy to come to her work and sit next to her and text. I’m not sure she got the point.
Ryan Stiles, star of both the BBC and American versions, as well as a regular on The Drew Carry Show, and Two and a Half Men, is a good foil to Proops. He is all warm and approachable compared to the more prickly Proops. Stiles strikes a balance between the buffoon and the wise clown and, like all of the members of the troupe, knows when to take stage and when to give it.
The acting ensemble in completed by the two younger members (though, both have years of experience at this now). Chip Esten, who has appeared in several episodes of The Office, and Jeff Davis, a regular on Whose Line is it Anyway and the disastrous Drew Carrey’s Green Screen Show. Davis brought the house down with his Christopher Walken impersonation during an improvised Jeopardy game. His Walken-esque answer to “Moscow,” was a stuttering “What do Hispanics say when they want more cow?” Esten and Davis are the singers of the quartet and had several opportunities to demonstrate their amazing facility in creating lyrics in a variety of styles.
Bob Derkach serves as onstage musical director and on-the-fly composer. The thousand-plus seat Knight Theatre was filled to capacity and I hope the performers keep their promise to return to Charlotte soon. There was an appreciative audience the night I attended, and I’m sure they could have filled the seats for two or three additional performances. I’m glad I got a chance to see them! 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.
Today we may think of Hitchcock as a great director, a film auteur. But in his day, he was a movie maker, pleasing the mass audience with romantic thrillers. The 39 Steps at ATC takes plot points from one of his deservedly lesser-known films, mixed with scenes from more famous ones (such as Psycho, Rear Window, and North by Northwest) and twists them together in hysterical knots of parody. Yet what it makes fun of is not so much Hitchcock as us—what we desire as our collective screen fantasies.
Dave Blamy plays the stoic, fish-out-of-water, bored Englishman/Canadian thrust into detective work, Richard Hannay. Blamy's fluid facial expressions, charming smiles to the audience, and sympathetic bodily sacrifices make him the perfect actor for this role. It's August 1935 in London and Hannay initially goes to the variety show theatre for "mindless and pointless" entertainment. But he soon gets drawn into a death-defying survival and romance odyssey—after meeting his femme fatale, Annabella Schmidt (Maret Decker Seitz).
Seitz is also perfect as various versions of the Hitchcock femme: not only the sexy German spy, Annabella, but also the trapped hotelkeeper's wife, Margaret, and the irritable love interest, Pamela. As Hannay bounces between the goons and cops, after getting direction from the dying Annabella to find a professor in Scotland who turns out to be the villainous leader of a mysterious anti-government group, stealing top-secret technology, through a memory showman's mind, the other two women appear to provide key help and potential passion for our unflappable hero.
Two other "clowns" (Greg McGrath and Rory Dunn) offer even more farce as numerous characters, sometimes in the same scene, with quick costume changes, onstage and off, plus many physical and vocal contortions—to get the audience laughing and playing along with the make-believe. Sometimes, Hannay seems to notice the theatrical oddness of his surroundings, with doors cueing party sounds and lights or phone rings not quite right. So, in director Decker's able hands, the entire play becomes like its main character's dream, performed for those other mutable souls who've come for entertainment but get multiple reflections as well.
A knife in the back may be a handle that opens a hand. Wooden boxes (in Decker's flexible set design) become train car seats and the tops of the train for a chase scene, through sound effects and the actor's semiotic gestures. The clowns can change in the blink of an eye and wave of a cap (with costumes designed by Jamie Varnadore) from passengers on the train to a newspaper boy, conductor, or cop. Hannay even notices when a hat gets misplaced, helping the actor to retransform within this dreamlike adventure.
Shadow puppets appear to show the chase on foot, or Hitchcock's hulking form, or planes attacking our fleeing hero. Of course, Nazis are involved, as well as strange Scotsmen, through many quirky accents, with Hannay eventually realizing he's glad to be alive, while struggling to escape both criminals and the law. He escapes through windows, overcomes fences and handcuffs, and gives a wonderfully rousing and funny speech at a political rally to earn his way to a happy-ever-after ending. It may be mindless entertainment but it does make a point, reflecting our mass audience desires to escape the daily tedium with heightened screen threats and passions—while avoiding or realizing how much we miss as fantastic twists in our everyday lives. Review by Mark Pizzato
Mark Pizzato is Professor of Theatre at UNC-Charlotte and author of Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain, Theatres of Human Sacrifice, and Inner Theatres of Good and Evil. 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.
Based on the cult novel by Irvine Welsh which follows the lives of several young people in Leith, Edinburg all of whom are either addicted to heroin or whose lives revolve around others with such addictions, Trainspotting is a energetic, obscene, sometimes poignant evening. Set in the 1980s, the play revels in the lowest levels of humanity. No bodily function is off limits and any fluid that can be emitted by the male or female body is referred to at least once. Usually this is to good effect, and some good laughs are created by taking the audience to the edge of their comfort level and beyond. Still, with scene after scene after scene of depravity one begins to wish for a little something more. Welsh’s novel both celebrates and lampoons the disaffected youth of 1980s Scotland.
The play makes some attempt at touting redemption, but this seems perfunctory. It is clear the play, like the novel, is more interested in shocking us than in truly examining these lost souls. Still, despite all of this, its youthful, angry, anti-establishment, rant is heartfelt and effective it just never really adds up to anything concrete. So should you see this morally ambiguous mess? Yes, absolutely! Citizens of the Universe‘s production is so sincere, so devoid of self importance or snobbery, that it takes what is essentially an aging hipster’s wet dream and transforms it into a sad riff on the seductive trap of addiction.
The ensemble, though uneven, does a nice job of projecting the too-cool-for-life sentiment of the heroin chic. Accents are handled well-enough and Stephen West-Rogers’ homage to Sean Connery in one brief scene gets a well-deserved laugh. Berry Newkirk, last seen in Queen City’s Rope gets more opportunities to emote here as Mark. His character tries to be good despite the lack of anything for him to live for. He slowly becomes aware of the sinking ship he and his friends are on, and eventually tries to save himself. Newkirk conveys all of this nicely. Jenny Wright holds her own against the depravity of the men in this ensemble, able to shock as well as the best of them, but still finding some small moments of reflection and tenderness. Stephen West-Rogers does well as Begbie (and others) and is perhaps the best at the thick dialects which forms the core of one quite humorous monologue. For the most part the cast is quite good and it is clear all are quite committed to this production. Every now and then you see an ensemble that feels more like you’re watching the members of some indie punk rock band than an acting troupe, that’s what I felt here!
Special mention must be made of Diego Francica’s phenomenal set. Setting the play in a men’s room is inspired and appropriate. The wall-to-wall mural of Bread and Water also enhances the nihilistic environment. The minimal lighting equipment is put to good use by Eric Winkenwerder. Though I like the use of original music, some preshow music and other choices were confusing to me. Though the text of the play seems set very clearly in the eighties with its mention of AIDS as a certain death sentence, the music is quite contemporary. Another minor quibble—no mention in the program (unless its in the microscopic print at the bottom which no one can read) is made of this being based on the novel of the same name nor of the author Irvine Welsh. Its clear that COTU celebrates the arts and the artist, and I imagine this slight was certainly unintentional.
When I attended on Friday night, the crowd was small but appreciative. I hope people will find the time to support this exciting theatre troupe. Like Queen City Theatre, COTU has a strong identity and a clear mission, I hope they can find the large audiences they deserve. Trainspotting is good, shocking fun. So leave grandma and the kids at home and head out to Story Slam! 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.
As the title character of this whimsical musical sings, this production is “practically perfect, in every way.” Disney and Cameron Mackintosh bring us a lush, ebullient, and heartfelt reimagining of everyone’s favorite nanny.
I have to confess, I was not looking forward to attending the musical last night. I had attended the West End production in London some years ago (before it had transferred to Broadway) and I was thoroughly unimpressed. The London production was amazing technically, but in all too many ways it was, both literally and figuratively, grey. I particularly remember the “jolly holiday” number being staged with an oppressive lack of color. The Banks house, a marvel of technology, consisted of a massive four story mansion (plus attic nursery!) that dominated the stage like some dark behemoth. It was more distracting than magical—so it was with some trepidation I entered the Belk Theatre.
I needn’t have worried. Numbers such as “jolly holiday” have been restaged in Technicolor brilliance, the Banks mansion, due to the requirements of touring, is now a delightful dollhouse and is much cozier. The entire production is a visual delight and one can’t help but be caught up in the magic of beloved songs such as “A Spoonful of Sugar,” and “Step in Time.” You can always tell the success or failure of a children’s musical by the children in the audience. Despite the two-and-a-half hour run time, the children remained in rapt attention the entire time. In both the London and Broadway productions, children under three were forbidden from attending. I saw no such restriction posted, but parents should be warned that some scenes are very intense and frightening.
The musical returns to its literary roots and restores some of the characters and tone from the Travers’ books. This also means that many beloved moments from the movie with Julie Andrews have been eliminated—notably there are no dancing penguins and no old men floating up to the ceiling. Instead we are given a more thematically appropriate dancing statue Neleus (Garrett Hawe) who yearns to find his father.
Caroline Sheen is charming as Mary Poppins. As I witnessed in London, the part can be cold and menacing if taken too literally—after all, Mary appears out of nowhere, refuses to conform to anyone’s will, and leaves on a whim. Clearly the success or failure of the musical depends on Mary, and Caroline Sheen is warm, maternal and mysterious. Children will enjoy her antics and adults will love her. Dominic Roberts is the irascible Bert (played by Dick Van Dyke in the film). He is our guide throughout the production and he, like Sheen, is warm and charming. I won’t spoil one of the more amazing bits of dance spectacle in this production, but I will say that Roberts smiled and tap danced in a position that would make a lesser man tremble.
The cast is uniformly excellent. The children, in particular, are impressively genuine with strong voices. Children in musicals can often overact and become cloying. Jane and Michael Banks carry the emotional weight of the production and these two young actors are more than up for the task. I would identify them by name, but unfortunately the program in no way indicated which of the pair of actors was playing the night I attended. Sorry kids! Laird Mackintosh and Blythe Wilson are fantastic as the parents and the truly enormous chorus fills out the cast beautifully.
Bob Crowley’s scene and costume designs are a wonder. Too many Broadway tours are low-rent versions of the actual productions—slashed down to almost nothing. This production is as lush and amazing as anything I have seen on the Broadway stage, and yes, you will see Mary Poppins fly, and, without spoiling it, it is one of the most amazing bits of theatrical magic I have seen!
If you are a parent with young children, or a lover of children’s literature, please plan to attend this production. It is so important for us to expose our children to quality theatre that does more than slap some costumes on actors in order to recreate whatever cartoon is popular at the time. I’ve taken my own children to such events and I remember them squirming throughout, but the children last night, sat in amazement and wonder. 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.
Written in 1928, Patrick Hamilton’s Rope tells the sordid tale of two sociopathic classmates who decide to murder their fellow student, stuff him into a trunk, and serve dinner off of said trunk to the corpse’s family and friends. Based loosely on the Leopold and Loeb murder case in which two Chicago students set about to murder a fourteen-year-old simply to see if they could get away with it, Rope also toys with the horror of motiveless murder and the chilling and prescient idea that superior men have the right to do away with the inferior whenever they see fit.
What complicates the narrative in some ways is the homosexuality of the two primary characters Charles Granillo (played with a mixture of tentativeness and manic abandon by Justin Younts) and Wyndham Brandon (played with charm and malice by Berry Newkirk). At the time the play was written, gay men, though still expected to remain closeted, were beginning to congregate at members-only clubs and even live together so long as nothing was overtly stated. That the two murderers have already had a lifetime of practice in pretending to be what they are not resonates throughout the piece; that the play presents the only two gay characters we meet as sadistic, depraved sociopaths is troubling.
Glenn T. Griffin moves the setting of the play a few years later to 1933 to take advantage of Great Britain’s slow realization of another man who believes in the right of the superior to eliminate the inferior. It’s a savvy choice that helps shape the play well. Griffin starts the production boldly with the two lovers, dressed only in their briefs, entwined erotically in ropes atop their victim’s coffin. There is little tenderness to the scene and it becomes clear that there is little real affection between the two men. After this encounter, the two men dress for the dinner party to come and we notice there is a third set of clothes left unattended.
The thriller runs a brisk ninety minutes with no intermission. Though the play sometimes creaks with age, it is still engaging. It is challenging, though. Traditional theatre demands a hero or anti-hero who fights passionately for what he wants despite all odds. Hamilton gives us two men who are so beyond petty human morals that they feel disassociated from the world of the play itself. I found myself not caring so much whether or not they were successful in pulling off the perfect crime. Still, I found the theme of supermen interesting enough. Perhaps what intrigues me is this fairly traditional drawing-room thriller that is so subtly subversive. I am still thinking about it, turning it over in my head, and trying to decide how important our engagement to the protagonists is. Perhaps it is our apathy the author is seeking. But why seek apathy?
The small cast is uniformly excellent (though the British accents were uneven at times). Berry Newkirk as the criminal mastermind is particularly effective, and Whitney Drury (who was so dazzling as Evita) is both charming and vulnerable as Leila Arden; Alexander Gagne convincingly plays past his young years as Kenneth Raglan; Kimberly Hilton is delightful as the empty-headed but utterly charming Harriet Debenham. Austin Vaccaro plays Rupert Cadell, the man the lovers might have included in their little game. Vaccaro is best when he is messing with sandwiches and hobbling about the stage with his cane. I found myself watching him watching the other characters with great interest. I did feel he was perhaps too youthful for the part, but as they say, life will take care of that. Don McManus was appropriately paternal and worried as the victim’s father, Sir Johnstone Kentley. Justin Younts is very effective when his character is calm and calculating, but his moments of anger seemed forced and near the end of the play he seemed sleepy rather than worried. Though he is clearly affected by the number of drinks he has had, I wanted him to be more present since he was such a key part of this story. Instead, it seemed as if he checked out.
As usual, I left the Queen City Theatre production thinking. I appreciate the risks that were taken here and applaud this company on four strong years of providing thought provoking theatre to Charlotte. I wish them (at least) four more. 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.
This twist on Cinderella for the youngest theatre members is sure to amuse adult audiences, too. The Grey Seal Puppets bring their usual creativity and good-natured humor to a well-known fairy tale.
In this case Cinderella (and most of the puppets) are vegetables—ingredients that belong in salsa. Of course, there is the mouse, the spoon, and the broom for variety. It’s always a wonder to see how Drew Allison can create a small world using various voices, and manage the puppets and changes by himself. The audience, even the young children, was attentive and responsive.
The festive soundtrack, composed and arranged by John Alexander is a good fit for the show, though occasionally a little too loud to hear the dialogue. The puppets are a delight with design and construction by Vania Reckard, Wendy Westbrook, and Mr. Allison.
When the show is over, Mr. Allison thanks the audience and explains the different types of puppets and shows how he works them. He also encourages children to make puppets themselves. This puppet show is an excellent way to introduce young children to theater and encourage imagination. Review by Ann Marie Oliva
Ann Marie Oliva is an award-winning local playwright with productions across the United States, a published fiction and non-fiction writer, and reviewer. 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 of America.