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All of us are aging—and learning to deal with loss. In this play, one of the bard's most challenging tragedies, a pre-Christian British king decides to retire in his eighties, basing his faith in life's meaning on the publicly stated love of his three daughters. He loses that confidence, and his sanity, but gains a better wisdom just before death.
The free, three-hour show at Spirit Square offers a good introduction to this complex drama, especially with former Charlotte Rep actor, Graham Smith, in the lead role. Yet, there is much more to discover—for those who might also read the play or see the various versions onscreen (such as Peter Brook's from 1971, starring Paul Scofield, or the TV movie with Laurence Olivier from 1983).
This production uses a mostly bare stage to suggest the king's court, other castles, the storm outdoors, and the final battle scenes—with simple, non-period costumes representing royalty, servitude, distress, and warfare. Originally, Shakespeare's plays were presented in a similar way, emphasizing the actor's power to evoke the audience's imagination through the "spoken décor" of the script. Here, the actors sometimes rise to the challenge, with physical intensities, emotional contrasts, and verbal articulations that reward spectators who are willing to concentrate on the words, despite our film, TV, and Web training in visual impatience. But there are also many missed opportunities for deeper discovery and some staging choices that do not fit the play.
When Lear divides his kingdom among his daughters, a spot of light indicates a map on the floor. But this and other choices for the first scene, such as its initial jocular mood, do not convey the formal gravity—and a father's already insane passions—behind this court event. Lear's sudden fierceness with his youngest daughter, Cordelia, who refuses to say how she loves him (while she has suitors waiting, including the King of France), seems to come from nowhere, instead of being a vital confrontation between political pretense and personal honesty.
Yet, Lear's gesture of stripping a purple belt from Cordelia's waist does indicate how passionately he's tied to her and needs her love, like a baby from her womb, or the future offspring which might become his immortality. The huge sword that Lear wields in banishing the Earl of Kent also suggests his phallic foolishness, and patriarchal insecurity, in hating those who are most honest and loyal to him.
The theme of foolish fathers continues, in Shakespeare's script, with the subplot of the Earl of Gloucester, his loyal yet duped son Edgar, and his conniving son Edmund. This production's sound effects offer a snakelike hiss, with subtle rattling, as the "bastard" Edmund begins his clever tricks to usurp his father's trust and become the "legitimate" heir. But Edgar's change into "Mad Tom," as his survival disguise, wearing only a ragged cloth, yet with well-groomed hair and lack of dirt, does not help the audience to understand his transformation into a "poor, bare, fork'd animal," who can later meet his father and Lear, in their insanity, and start raising them out of it. Likewise, Kent's disguise as a folksy servant who's locked in the stocks by Goneril, Lear's eldest daughter, for taking the old king's side as a trickster to her servants, becomes less convincing for the audience—when he shows no effects of sleeping outside, legs bound all night, as he's released in the morning.
On the positive side, Zack Byrd, as Lear's jesting and gesturing Fool, finds ways to physicalize his witty yet esoteric lines, giving laughs to the audience as he tries to alter the tragedy's course by advising his master. Stephen T. Ware, as Gloucester, shows a refined sense of nobility, despite being duped by Edmund, being caught as a "traitor" in the war between Lear and his eldest daughters (Goneril and Regan), being blinded by the Duke of Cornwall (Regan's husband), and trying to commit suicide by stepping off a cliff, which Edgar has created in his imagination, for a proto-Freudian catharsis. Ron McClelland as Cornwall may also evoke tragic sympathy from the audience, as a black man playing a villain (with the other leads being white), when his confident control over his household seems noble and yet turns wicked, as he punishes his traitorous rival.
Smith, as Lear, has many powerful moments, especially when he describes his daughters as a "disease" in his flesh, which he also shows throughout the play, in sudden shifts of emotion, perhaps relating to his abject sense of their "mother's tomb." When he makes a triangle of his hands to show the "hell" that women have become for him. And when he stands at the edge of the stage, giving a desperate prayer to the gods—"You see me here"—out to us, the audience he cannot see.
It is certainly worth the price of admission, and the demands of this play, to become Lear's gods and learn from his tragedy: to see him rise (in a nicely-staged inclining of his battlefield stretcher) from madness and exhaustion to hope and joy, even if brief, with his loving daughter, as they become "like birds i' th' cage" laughing at "gilded butterflies" near the end. 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.
The Cirque is back in town, this time with an elegant, fanciful, and joyously impressive show called "Alegria," a revival from 1999. It's not as intense as other cirque shows I've seen (such as "Totem" which was here last March), but it's just as enjoyable and moving—for spectators' emotions and body-brain mirror-movement networks.
There's a different atmosphere here from a grand circus tent. Instead, the audience sees the neon wrap-around banners of the Bobcats' home. Much of the audience faces across the stage, along the sides of the arena. But the air-conditioned space offers great intimacy for those in folding chairs on the arena floor and for others near the raked heart and diamond shaped stage, with its swirling ramps and many wires above.
Clowns begin the show by mixing with those near the stage. A hunchback Master of Ceremonies in a red overcoat tricks a male spectator, switching seats with him to sit near his companion. This may relate to the love letters that reappear throughout the show, turning into spectacular tricks, along with other objects of childlike wonder, turning from simple things into treasures, involving farcical mishaps. But there are also some seriously awesome circus feats.
For example, an acrobat performs amazing spins on the hanging high-bar swing. Then a clown, who's on and in a yellow zebra (while wearing it), parodies such athletic prowess when he tries, again and again, to get his stead to jump a very small hurdle. A group of men perform fantastically high flips, in a leaping, spinning, and falling dance on trampolines together. And then, clowns play with a paper airplane in various ways, interacting with the audience and vying with each other, while making non-verbal communicative sounds.
There's also live music and lovely wordless singing throughout the show. About 50 performers grace the stage, in multiple costumes of fanciful colors and fantastic designs, creating various moods. Yet, the focus is also on individuals, such as a shirtless male balancing on one arm, on a turning column, like a Calder mobile sculpture. Another male twirls and juggles fire-sticks. An acrobat wheels his body inside a huge hoop, becoming the living manifestation, at high speed, of Leonardo's Vitruvian Man. A clown with a huge suitcase finds a scary shuddering wig inside and then wears a steaming top-hat, turning his luggage into a locomotive. He tears up a letter and its pieces become snow falling in the next scene, for another clown to crunch under his extra-large shoes. Then a blizzard blows him across the stage. And all of this comes in just the first act.
Highlights of the second act involve these events. A solo acrobat hanging by ropes on his hands rises so high and twirls so fast that his body becomes a blur. (Yet the lights shining on him might also hit some spectator's eyes, making this scene hard to watch.) Three men balance on long flexible beams, held on the shoulders of others, as they fly up and flip, landing again on the narrow planks. Then clowns parody such a feat, using a volunteer from the audience. In an even more amazing stunt, two Asian females contort their bodies in beautifully scary ways. They bend their backs so far backward that their feet come over their shoulders or their feet and hands lie flat on the floor at the same time. In the finale, five acrobats take turns swinging on the high bar and catching the hands of two others on a swinging trapeze.
Once again, Cirque du Soleil demonstrates that gymnastic stunts, clown tricks, eclectic music, and rapturous non-verbal singing, with fantastic costumes, settings, soundscapes, and lights, may expand the imagination beyond what we think human bodies can do—joining us with them in an artful dream. 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.
"Let's do the Time Warp again." This is the continuing refrain of The Rocky Horror Show, as a Gothic rock musical from 1973, which became a hugely popular cult-film in 1975 (director Jim Sharman), parodying earlier sci-fi and horror flicks, such as Frankenstein (1931, director James Whale). Even those who are not fans of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, famous for its participatory audiences, might enjoy this live version, as a "double feature" with fresh faces, comical sex scenes, and mysteriously transgressive songs and dances.
The set by Chip Decker (like his stage direction) is top notch, though not as spectacular as the original stage and screen versions. Dark gray walls and platforms, with hints of many colors, convey both ominous danger and exotic energy. Bare scaffolding suggests the monstrous constructs of desire and technology that the musical satirizes. A narrator (Kevin Campbell) in a loft stage left also parodies TV movie and Masterpiece Theatre hosts—with the audience adding warped reflections of a satyr chorus.
The onstage chorus of "Transylvanians" (Alex Aguilar, Michelle Presley Harkness, Devin Nystrom, and Rachel Esther Tate) are the best part of the show, as aliens from another planet who transform into set pieces, such as trees and a castle door, and dance many storms (with choreography by Tod A. Kubo). Meghan Whitney and Mason Reich perform delightful caricatures of Janet and Brad, the young innocent engaged couple whose plans are turned inside out by a desperate visit to the castle of Frank N. Furter (Calvin Grant), after getting a flat on a rainy night. But unlike the obsessive scientists in Mary Shelley's novel, Frankenstein, and Whale's film, this perverse, cross-dressing doctor (played by a bald black actor) creates a younger, muscular version of himself with blond hair and gold hot pants, as his new lover "Rocky" (Marvin King). He also lures Brad and Janet into unfaithful pleasures—as their Dionysian trickster. But his own servants, Riff Raff (Jonathan Elliott Coarsey) and Magenta (Raquel Novo) eventually bring about a cosmic justice. Columbia (Emily Hunter), Eddie, and Dr. Scott (both played by Rory Dunn) round out the cast of castle crazies, as Frank's former yet still loyal lover, a brain-donor zombie, and a goofy investigator in an electric wheelchair.
Old-time test patterns appear on screens at times, as do silly sex scenes (with minimal costumes covering the vital areas). Gay, straight, and multiple relations are shown, by the principles and chorus, crossing the dress and genders. Song lyrics also tease the audience, through and beyond their humorous tones, such as: "Touch me; I want to be dirty" and "Don't dream it; be it." (But newcomers may find the lyrics difficult to discern at times.) The live band provides excellent accompaniment—though feedback, drop out, and humming problems plagued the singers on opening night. You have to have the right taste for musical theatre perversity and pop-film parody to enjoy this rocky ride and horror show (as with Queen City Theatre's Reefer Madness last fall). So be forewarned about the foreplay; then dress up, drink it up, and enjoy—if you want the time warp again. 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.
Light-hearted farce is not easy to do. It's hit and miss, as anyone watching TV's Saturday Night Live can see. But a new sketch comedy team has emerged in Charlotte, the best in at least a decade. And their opening show of 14 short skits offers many hits.
Slides on a scrim and simple set pieces suggest the various scenes, along with extremely versatile actors and their various, quickly changed costumes. Most of the scenes were scripted by Tom Olson (leader of the group) and the writing is excellent throughout. But one of the best, "Yoga with Trudy," in which a yoga teacher loses her Zen, was added by Kim Irene Baker.
That contemporary piece, which begins the second act, mirrors another parody of authority at the start of the first. In "Happy Endings" Olson plays an Old West brothel owner, who's visited by the marshal (Ted Delorme), a regular customer with a legal problem. Unfortunately, some of the audience in the side seats might have trouble seeing the sign change that offers a comical solution—since the action is placed too far forward on the stage for them.
In "Red Velvet Cake, Please," a breakup scene between a Yale MBA grad (Stephen Barrington) and his country club girlfriend (Gayle Taggart) turns into its opposite when he learns how much she has to offer. "I'll Be Back!" offers a funny glimpse at the downside of such associations with wealth and fame, when the Governator's brother (Olson) visits a therapist.
Actors, directors, and horror fans in the audience will empathize with the craziness of "The Savage Wastelands," which shows how hard it can be to shoot a zombie movie, when the actress (Taggart) wants her death scene to be more meaningful. Those in the dating world will recognize hilarious moments in "Highly F*ckable," when an experienced online dater (Julie Janorschke-Gawle) gives her clipboard questions to a cocky newbie (Olson). But parents may laugh even more at "C.R.A.P." with a mom (Janorschke-Gawle) learning how to control her teen daughter (Taggart), in this potential ad for a parental training program. And all of us living in the Bible Belt can identify with "Got Jesus?"—as missionaries (Olson and Barrington) try to convince a truly naïve man in his home that they're selling the Good News for free.
Each of the performers shows tremendous energy and flexibility in these and many other scenes. They also have their tour-de-force moments: Janorschke-Gawle as the yoga teacher, Barrington as the missionary, and Taggart as the country club girl and horror movie actress. Delorme gives his in "Julia Roberts," as an Iraq War veteran with creepy lessons for his future son-in-law. Olson gives several, especially in "God's Chosen Race," as a 13-year-old who adopts a British persona due to the influence of Harry Potter, and in "Me, Myself and Mother," as a schizoid Mama's Boy who kicks himself in the butt and twists himself into deadly knots in his conflicted feelings about her.
So there's much to celebrate with this new sketch comedy troupe—if you enjoy short pieces of light-hearted farce with meaningful bites of parody. 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 little perplexing on how exactly one writes a review for Mamma Mia!, the hit musical based on the songs of 1970s Swedish pop group ABBA. I would assume that anyone attending such a musical is either a fan of the pop group or a fan of the successful movie of the same name. So if my assumption is correct, I doubt anyone who is attending this production for the first time will be in any way disappointed. The musical playfully includes a plethora of classic ABBA tunes shoehorned, sometimes preposterously, anywhere the plot might remotely allow them. But that’s just it; preposterous or not, Mamma Mia! is one of the most commercially successful musicals in recent memory. Despite opening in London and New York more than a decade ago, both productions are still running with no immediate end in sight. Is it a good musical? I don’t think so, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy myself. Again, I think one should go to a musical based on ABBA songs with a different set of expectations than one might have for say, a Sondheim piece. So before going into specifics, if you want to know if you should see Mamma Mia! or not, well, if you love ABBA, then sure. I think loving ABBA is an absolute necessity here. Fair warning.
I also admit I am more than a little late to this party. I have never seen Mamma Mia! before. I came in expecting a musical based on a pop band to be a flashy spectacle with amazing costumes. Fans of the musical will know that instead the production utilizes two semi-circular wall units that resemble the white stucco structures one might see on a Greek island. These units are rolled around by the ensemble in various configurations throughout the show. Augmented by two tables, two beds, and a very small assortment of furniture, the musical could easily be mounted by an ambitious community theatre. After having the misfortune to witness the seventy-five million dollar disaster Spiderman, Turn Off the Dark earlier this month, I appreciate restraint in staging, but this seemed almost cheap, as if economics dictated the design more than necessity. I can’t imagine this is the case, but I wanted just a little more to look at. Costumes fair little better, though the ABBA inspired costumes worn by the main trio are a hoot.
The plot of the musical is fairly simple: bride-to-be Sophie (played by the adorable Chloe Tucker) has discovered by reading her mother’s diary that her father could be any one of three men her mother had an encounter with within a seventy-two hour period. Sophie decides to invite all three men to her wedding in hopes that she will somehow recognize her father the moment she sees him. Sophie’s mother runs a small inn on an island but was also, conveniently, the lead singer in a (wait for it) disco pop group in the seventies. Donna, played by the wonderful Kaye Tuckerman, is joined by her backup singer friends Rosie (a neo-feminist earth mother played well by Mary Callanan) and the prerequisite tramp (played with gusto by Alison Ewing). The male counterparts are equally well played by Tony Clements as Sam Carmichael (the lonely architect), John-Michael Zuerlein (the Steve Irwin-inspired outback adventurer), and Paul Deboy (the wealthy banker who might not be the marrying kind—well, depending on which state you’re in). Happy Mahaney fills out the cast as Sky, the handsome fiancée who seeks adventure.
The plot is, as one might expect, a collection of comic vignettes crammed full of ABBA songs whether they belong or not. What makes this work at all is the playfulness of the ensemble. Though clearly committed to the storyline, there is a clear affection displayed between the characters and nothing is treated with too much gravitas. It’s a breezy romp and every second of the performance lets you know it is not to be taken too seriously.
Mamma Mia! is a good deal of fun for a very specific audience. If you’re looking for a loving, funny, gentle homage to the songs of ABBA, you’re in for a treat. If you’re looking for plotting, thoughtful characterization, or even just good old-fashioned Broadway spectacle, you might be disappointed. Review by Tim Baxter-Ferguson
Tim Baxter-Ferguson is professor of Theatre at Limestone College and Chair of that program. He has had his plays produced throughout the United States and Canada.
When it comes to mental health, people are on a continuum rather than only the extremes of either “normal” or “crazy”. That means all of us. To phrase it another way, questioning our own mental health status when stress overcomes us, you may conclude, as I do, that we’re all crazy in our own particular ways at certain times. At first, Next to Normal presents a seemingly average family dealing with a member leaning decidedly to the illness end of the spectrum. Yet, this is a more extreme situation that disrupts the entire family’s equilibrium. Dealing with one person who has serious issues and a tenuous hold on reality is exhausting, deflating, depressing as she cycles through the phases of her illness. Some will not want to be put through what they consider the wringer of this musical. Others will find it a revelation. Either way, it is far from typical subject matter for a musical play, but that is exactly what makes the Pulitzer Prize-winning Next to Normal worth seeing.
Diana (Alice Ripley) is bi-polar, and has been ill for many years. Her long-suffering husband Dan (Asa Somers) tries his best to keep her stable by recognizing the early symptoms she exhibits when her delusions cause her to slip away to some unknown place, and rushes her to doctors. He finds a “rock star” doctor (Jeremy Kushnier) who treats her illness with different methods. Diana has an unusually close relationship with her son Gabe (Curt Hansen). Meanwhile teenage daughter Natalie (Emma Hunton) struggles with feeling “invisible” to her mother. Her devoted boyfriend named Henry (Preston Sadleir) tries to support her even as she consistently rejects him.
What this play accomplishes is to show the constant vigilance needed for a situation that wears down and wears out the affected person as well as the caregiver and rest of the family. There is little peace. It is not about blame, and though each person contributes something to the ongoing chaos, it is the terrible notion, stated later in the play, that this is a chronic illness with no cure that is so devastating. Despite the serious tone there are lighter moments when the audience can share a laugh.
The cast is uniformly excellent. Alice Ripley gives it her all as Diana. Watching the expressions on her face as she sees and hears things not there is touching. Asa Somers presents the solid husband and father with sensitivity, and many may identify particularly with this character. Curt Hansen is dynamic as Gabe. Emma Hunton’s Natalie is especially heartbreaking as the lost daughter. Preston Sadleir as her boyfriend does a good job with a difficult role. Jeremy Kushnier’s portrayal of the professional yet caring doctor gives a glimpse into the difficult struggle to give answers when there aren’t any.
The music side of the equation is as much mixed as the emotional states of the characters, with driving rock-infused numbers interspersed with more introspective songs. The musicians, which include guitar, strings, keyboard, bass and drums, are mounted in separate upper quadrants of the set's scaffolding. The score does not provide many opportunities for melodies that you'll find yourself humming on the way home or adding to your ringtones, but Brian Yorkey's lyrics drive the musical along with Tom Kitt's music and powerful deliveries by the cast members, at times in a rock opera style. The music moves across many genres, including classical, jazz, rock and contemporary. Each cast member is given a chance to shine. The songs range from the moving "I Miss the Mountains" and other solos by Ms. Ripley, including "The Break" in which the poignant lyric "What happens if the cut, the burn, the break was never in my brain, or in my blood, but in my soul?" Other numbers underscore the emotional struggle of the family, like the hopeful "It's Gonna Be Good". And after the roller coaster ride we've been on concludes we are left with the optimistic appeal that we can all fight that fight because there will be "Light".
Should you go see it? I would say definitely yes. But first you need to ask yourself what your tolerance level is for unresolved, sad realities of life. If you are open enough to the subject matter you may have, at least, a moving if not joyous experience. If you have had to deal with such problems with family or friends the play may not be transformational, but it will be comforting to see a situation you know all too well treated with gravitas on stage rather than dismissed. The truth is that no family is exactly “normal,” and a certain number are not even next to normal.
I give credit to writers and producers who are willing to take on socially relevant theatre that attempts difficult issues. Mental illness may not be a pleasant subject, but it is a desperately important one. 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 is a member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
“What happens to love when it has no place to go?” That quote from the play pretty much encapsulates the story in Neon Psalms. A man retired from the borax mine named Luton Mears (Russell Rowe) and his bible spouting wife Patina (Meg Wood) are locked in battle. It’s obvious they had moments of happiness in the marriage when they reminisce about the early days, but those good feelings have long since disappeared. The battlefield is their small trailer in the California desert in the middle of a piece of land as barren and thirsty as their marriage. We never really know how or why things went wrong though a lost son is mentioned. It seems this is the incident where they can’t get past the hurt and blame, but it’s not developed.
Luton does what he can to distract himself by watching television and caring for pet turtles (real ones are used in the show). Patina has found religion, though it’s used here mostly as a ruse to wrest control of her family. Their adult daughter Barbara (Kathleen Taylor), having lost her children to the better offer of her ex-husband who promises Disneyland, shows up with few prospects of bettering herself. Luton is overjoyed, while Patina is jealous of his attention to her. Isn’t it usually the case that the character who professes to have the moral high ground is the worst person in the story?
Another character shows up in the person of Propane Ray (Sean Watson) who brings some evidence of the world outside this private hell, and is a catalyst who motivates one of the characters.
This edgy play from the 1980s is rather slow going, especially in the first act, and the subject matter, while sincerely handled seems as though it should have more humorous moments to relieve the audience. These are not characters you necessarily like or want to spend an inordinate amount of time with, but maybe that’s exactly the point? Yet, they don’t change, or learn anything during the course of the play and neither do we.
Directors Alford and Simmons draw good performances from the actors, especially Ms. Taylor. As usual for CAST much attention to detail makes for a creative set with an actual trailer, and set design with handmade trees that look scorched and almost real.
CAST has done a remarkable job getting the new space ready for this play in six weeks. The plans for future construction are impressive and on display, though they will not come to fruition immediately. CAST will certainly have new spaces to offer Charlotte theatergoers.
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 is a member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
This was my first year attending the Queen City staple, Charlotte Squawks. I'd heard about it but was never drawn to sample the political satire-filled production. I must say that I had my mind prepared to hear a bunch of insults, low-blows, and snarky references, and I was not disappointed.
Former Charlotte Mayor, Pat McCrory began the show by invading a large screen hanging high above the stage that posed as a distraction for me. I felt myself confused about where my attention should be for most of the performance. As funny as his bid for Governor, McCrory pulled off the skit alongside Mike Collins, Squawks ring leader, quite effortlessly. After the introductory piece, a hilarious trio of rednecks poked fun at the city's massive failure to lure people to North Carolina's favorite new tribute, the NASCAR Hall of Fame.
Comical parodies of other worldwide issues were performed during the first act, but one in particular brought tears to my eyes. Actress Carmen Schultz set the bar with her rendition of "My Funny Valentine" entitled "No HUD in Ballantyne." This was by far the funniest bit of the first act. Immediately after, a jab at Arnold Schwarzeneggar's recent infidelities lacked preparation and seemed to fall short.
The second act was just as entertaining as the first, with the group ripping the Panthers, the Bobcats including their new owner, Michael Jordan, swearing off the oil kings, BP, and strangling other news-worthy events that graced our televisions, newspapers and popular websites this past year.
The diverse cast definitely delivered on the follies and I found myself surprisingly satisfied when the curtain closed. If you need a splash of humor and aren't a sensitive resident of the Char-Meck area, sit back, relax, and enjoy the 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 work has appeared in Uptown Magazine and Dawn enjoys reviewing theater productions, movies, and loves most things artistic.
Director Melissa Olhman-Roberge has made a habit of excellence, but with Ragtime she has taken her craft to yet another level. Based on the acclaimed historical novel by E.L. Doctorow, Ragtime is well-known as a BIG musical/play in every sense of the word. Spanning the years from the early 1900s to the beginning of World War I it has a large cast and epic story.
As the play begins, ensembles representing the three groups—-suburban New York WASPs (i.e., White Anglo-Saxon Protestants), African-Americans, and Eastern European immigrants--introduce themselves with impressive musical/dance numbers that fill the stage with energy and well-rehearsed choreography. As a musical, the songs regularly drive and complement the narrative with their lyrics. The first act features more than twenty songs that allow the principal characters an opportunity to demonstrate their considerable vocal talents. Mother (Lisa Smith Bradley) while working in the garden one day finds an African-American newborn in her flowerbed. The child is the son of Sarah (Kimberly Monique Butler) a traumatized young African-American woman working in the neighborhood. Mother expresses her bewilderment with “What Kind of Woman”, but makes a hard decision for the times to take in new mother and baby. The immigrant group arrives in America, and Tateh (Kevin Roberge) sings a rousing “A Shtetl Iz America”. He becomes a silhouette artist to support himself and his daughter striving for “Success”. Coalhouse Walker, Jr. (Timothe Bittle) is introduced with “His Name Was Coalhouse Walker”. He has been searching for Sarah and finds her and her son at Mother’s house. He eventually wins her back but soon they are confronted by the racist fireman Will Conklin (Stuart Spencer) and others who destroy his car. Coalhouse is incensed but can get no one to help him. When Father (Stephen B. Martin) returns, he is outraged over Mother’s good will. Her Younger Brother (Erik N. D’Esterre) has already decided he is on the side of the workers.
Act II has fifteen songs plus the epilogue and resolves the storylines with results that are tragic/surprising/heartwarming for various characters. Especially moving are the songs, “Back to Before”, “Make Them Hear You”, and the “Wheels of a Dream”.
The stellar cast is led by Timothe Bittle whose innate dignity/acting/powerful voice is nothing short of spectacular. Lisa Smith Bradley continues to grow better with each new part. Kevin Roberge again shows excellent versatility. Kimberly Monique Butler is moving as the young mother with her strong voice, Carmen Coulter shines brightly as the gospel soloist. Brianna Smith is striking as Emma Goldman, Erik N. D’Esterre brings an unexpected weight to the role of Younger Brother. What is gratifying, too, are the young actors who have been nurtured by director Ohlman-Roberge and are now moving on with their careers: Amanda Roberge and Isaac Josephthal, and probably others in this show. Yet, these are just a few of the wonderful performances. Everyone in the cast, all the actor/singers/dancers have obviously put heart and soul into this production.
The play is beautifully realized in all aspects, from the set design by Anna Sartin, costume design by Jamey Varnadore, choreography by Felicia Davis to the outstanding musical direction of John Smith and his musicians. The play is shown to great advantage on the large Duke Performance Hall stage. This is the best community theatre production I have seen in the Charlotte area, period.
The story is complex with many characters' lives intersecting showing the prejudice, injustices, and sorrows of life that came during that time. No one in the play escapes unscathed, but life was certainly much harder for those who did not have social status. This is our history for better or worse, and some of it is truly shameful. Yet, though there is tragedy for many in the narrative you come out of the theatre with a sense of joy and hope that we are better people for the sacrifice and suffering of those who came before us.
This produciton is a must see if you are a musical theatre fan and believe in socially relevant theatre. 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 is a member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
Performing the last production of the Children’s Theatre season, the Tarradiddle Players seemed especially energetic—-aided perhaps by one of the playwrights, Lane Riosley, being in the audience and joining the cast on stage after the production to answer questions.
The Italian Commedia style, which includes broad comedy both physical and in dialogue, is well-suited to familiar fairy tales and the lively Tarradiddle Players. Speaking with Italian accents Salvador Garcia (Punchin), Leslie Ann Giles (Columbine), Darlene Parker (Rosetta), and Stephen Seay (Arlequin) got the kids pointing and laughing during the show, and their enthusiasm continued during the question/answer session after the show.
What helps is that this is not your standard Princess and the Pea. We see Columbine try to get the actors ready to perform the story by getting their costumes, but naughty Rosetta and Arlequin want to interject characters not normally in the fairy tale, frustrating Columbine, but amusing us.
As is standard for Children’s Theatre the tech elements for the show are high quality for a traveling show, which this was: scene design by Tim Parati, costumes by Amy Akerblom Holroyd, lighting by Eric Winkenwerder, sound by Van Coble, Jr., props by Peter Smeal, and of course, the person who puts it all together director Steven Ivey. (Tech people don’t often get as much acknowledgement as they should for the wonderful elements they bring to children’s theatre.)
Unfortunately, Sal Garcia is leaving the Tarradiddle Players after two seasons to go to New York. He will be sorely missed. Good Luck Sal! And thanks to all for another great season!
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 is a member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
Loosely based on the children’s book by William Steig and more specifically adapted from the DreamWorks animated feature, Shrek the Musical follows the quest of the titular Shrek as he tries to regain his beloved swamp and finds the love of a beautiful princess with a secret. Like the movie, Shrek the Musical approaches famous fairytale characters with tongue firmly in cheek. Though, the musical never really aspires to do more than tell a simple story and entertain, it makes for a fun evening for the whole family.
I attended Shrek the Musical shortly after it opened on Broadway. I was pleased to see that many of the weaker points from the Broadway production had either been eliminated or tweaked for the national tour. Most notably, when Shrek and Donkey go to save the princess and meet up with the enormous red dragon (later the mother of Donkey’s children, if you follow such things) the NYC production utilized a strange robotic dragon head and a collection of chorus girls meant to represent the dragon’s tale. It was a bit of stylized silliness that fit poorly with the rest of the production. The tour replaces the stylized dragon with a truly impressive puppet that moves her limbs, blinks her eyes, and stretches her wings through the operation of four puppeteers. It’s a vast improvement. The dragon’s song from the Broadway production has also been replaced. Other songs are reorganized, augmented, or shortened creating a better dramatic arc.
Children (and adults) who loved the movie will find much to enjoy in this musical. It doesn’t stray too far from the original screenplay and has some truly memorable songs from the unlikely duo of David Lindsay-Abaire (author of Rabbithole) and Jeanine Tesori (Caroline, or Change).
As in the Broadway production, the musical is held together by the primary quartet of Shrek, Princess Fiona, Donkey, and Lord Farquaad. Eric Peterson manages to make the part different enough from Mike Meyer’s iconic portrayal without alienating the kids. His Shrek is more vulnerable and open to love and friendship. Haven Burton as Princess Fiona manages to be delicate and feminine when needed and then slide effortlessly into burping and passing gas. Alan Mingo, Jr. steals the show as Donkey. His Donkey is more RuPaul and less Eddie Murphy. Mingo, Jr. also somehow manages to be both over-the-top and still believable. David F. M. Vaughn plays the diminutive Lord Farquaad. It’s an inspired piece of costuming that is good for a laugh or too, though the joke is played out by the end of the show. Vaughn hams it up delightfully.
The rest of the company is wonderful and adept. Children will love seeing their favorite characters from the film and from storybooks—the three little pigs, the big bad wolf, Peter Pan, the three bears, Pinocchio, and many other are all here.
Technically the tour is top notch. It’s spectacle in the best sense. Wonderful lights, dazzling costumes and inventive staging. Tim Hatley’s Tony award-winning costumes are fun, inventive, and steal the show. His settings are evocative and in many cases benefit from the restrictions of touring. The Broadway set was a marvel of automated panels and revolving pieces, but the tour is more varied and more inventive. Hugh Vanstone’s lights are a wonder, and the use of projections and other technical special effects was impressive and great fun. My only quibble (spoiler alert!) is the ending of the musical. When Lord Farquaad meets his fate via hungry dragon, the staging was uninspired and lazy. Still, Princess Fiona’s final transformation is beautiful and breathtaking.
Shrek the Musical is a wonderful introduction to what theatre can be. Children of all ages should have no problem sitting through this lavish and fast-paced production. Older audience members will enjoy the numerous pop-culture references and seasoned theatre goers will enjoy the many nods to other musicals including Wicked, Dream Girls, Les Miserables, Gypsy, and Lion King. On so many levels this production is better than the Broadway production—better book, better music, and better look! Review by Tim Baxter-Ferguson
Tim Baxter-Ferguson is professor of Theatre at Limestone College and Chair of that program. He has had his plays produced throughout the United States and Canada.
Can you put on an entertaining show with four actor/singers, music, and four chairs on stage? [title of show] proves you can. This clever, quirky show takes the audience through the creative process with the two writers Jeff (Rory Dunn) and Hunter (Ryan Stamey) as they attempt to write a musical in three weeks to submit to a festival in New York. They chronicle their own motives, thoughts, feelings as they commit to the process so by the end of the play you get to know something about them even with actors playing the real life people.
The guys bring in two women to join them in the play, Susan (Susan Roberts Knowlson) and Heidi (Allison Lamb). This is a true ensemble piece. The four actors have good chemistry which makes it all the more fun for the audience. They are all talented actor/singers providing the show with energy and the excitement of creative juices flowing fast and furious. They are in the zone, each character making his/her unique contribution to the finished product.
When they finish writing the play and submit it to the festival there’s no surprise when it’s accepted, and you feel a sense of happiness for them because theatre people usually experience so much rejection. But that’s just the first act.
The show turns more serious in the second act. Although their play is produced in the festival, they’re hoping for it to move on to bigger venues. Money to produce the play becomes a factor. This is when relationships get strained as producers want changes. Jeff and Hunter disagree about how much to compromise. How much of their souls do they give away? The women wait patiently as the writers try to keep them attached to the show, but months pass and they have to earn a living.
If this section of the play was omitted it wouldn’t be honest, though maybe only theatre people can truly appreciate how discouraging it can be to wait for reviews, ask for money, hope to get others interested in producing your work, and all the many let-downs that come with writing for the stage. And when you put your work out there it is open to everyone’s judgment and, fair or not, you have to take whatever criticism comes with that. Is it any wonder artistic types are insecure? Ultimately, the show is uplifting. There’s nothing like success to make all the angst worthwhile.
Being a pro himself, Chip Decker’s direction is spot on exhibiting a thorough understanding of the dynamics of musicals/plays. Ryan Deal is in full control as “Larry” the music guy and musical director of the show. The music and especially the lyrics provide a structure for the play with many funny lines.
It’s another good show from Actor’s Theatre of Charlotte that maintains the high quality we have come to know and expect. 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 is a member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
If you haven’t been to The Green Uptown to experience a Charlotte Shakespeare Festival play you should make plans to see their latest production of Tartuffe running through June 19. The atmosphere is congenial, the setting is actually green, but most importantly, the work is first rate. In fact, the cast and crew work hard to give the audience a quality experience and they definitely succeed.
As to the play itself, Tartuffe was written in 1664, and you may wonder why you should be interested in a play that’s going on 350 years old. The answer is that, unfortunately for us, human beings have not evolved as much as we would like to think. You see, Tartuffe (Chad Calvert) is a falsely pious hypocrite who swindles a gullible man. Where have we seen that before? Wealthy Orgon (Joe Copley) saved Tartuffe from a destitute life and now believes all his religious utterances. The audience knows from the beginning that he is a fraud, but the fun is in watching the action unfold as members of Orgon’s family try to convince him that Tartuffe is a back-stabbing master manipulator. Since the play was written in French it’s uncertain how strict the translation is, but no matter because the dialogue is in clever rhyming couplets. This only adds to the comedy.
Stark truth is always a bit dangerous, and Tartuffe was censored at the time with some accusing Molière of various offensive motives, especially concerning religion. But luckily he had friends in high places, including the French King, who obviously enjoyed a good laugh.
Director Elise Wilkinson has a sure hand with the talented cast. Her use of the space is precise yet economical. Each actor is well chosen for his/her role. Chad Calvert is wonderfully oily as Tartuffe. As Orgon, Joe Copley plays gullibility and stubborness well and shows us something new with each Collaborative Arts production. As Orgon’s wife Elmire, Barbi Van Schaick is both seductive and smart. She has a good rapport with both men, and her scenes with Mr. Calvert are choice bits of physical comedy. Dorine, the outspoken maid, is a natural for Meghan Lowther who can’t believe the idiocy of the people she serves. Tom Ollis plays Elmire’s brother Cléante as something of a dandy but with good heart and common sense. Karina Roberts-Caporino shows good comic timing as Orgon’s sweet but dim daughter Mariane. Zack Byrd provides a laughable manic presence as Orgon’s son Damis who warns his father to no avail. Brian Seagroves does well as Marianne’s lovesick suitor. Corlis Hayes is perfectly caustic as Orgon’s foolish mother. A special mention of interns Bola Ande, Keaton Brower, and Lindsey Hoffman who perform in the show and are in good hands with this group.
Triste Rothe Bremer’s lighting of the outdoor set, and Luci Wilson’s lush costumes add to the overall effect of the show.
Audience members can sit on blankets closer to the actors, or on chairs behind those people on the grass. Either way there's a view of the action. Food and drinks are allowed, but also be prepared for changes in the sometimes volatile Charlotte weather. It was good to look around and see families, young couples, and young people there for the show. It is free, but they ask for modest donations afterwards. Audiences who care about theatre should help as much as possible to keep the Festival in Charlotte. This unique venue is well worth the trip to The Green Uptown as the classics presented by this excellent Festival entertain and enlighten at the same time, and show what the best of theatre can be. 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 is a member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
As director (and star) Glenn T. Griffin mentions in his bio, I too, had the original concept album for “Chess” (though mine was on cassette tape, not LP). I played it so much that it finally “gave up the ghost” and shot brown tendrils of tape through my boom box. Ahh, yes, the eighties. I had had the misfortune to see the American version of “Chess” some years back, and though it retained that wonderfully complex mix of complicated lyrics and disco-inspired music, it was a terrible mess; difficult to follow, overly serious, with too much dialogue.
A quick bit of history—Tim Rice (who worked with Andrew Lloyd Weber on Evita) was very interested in writing a musical based on the cold war. Teaming up with ABBA frontrunners Benny Anderson and Bjorn Alvaeus, the trio created the concept album (mentioned above) in 1984. Two years later a fully realized musical would open to mixed reviews from critics, but enthusiastic audiences, and it would run for three years. Reimagining the musical from the top down, a radically revised version of the musical appeared on Broadway in 1988, but closed very quickly. Ever since then, Chess has had a reputation of being a jumbled mess. It also has an insanely loyal fanbase.
For years, the fabled UK version of Chess, which has always been regarded as the superior version, was unavailable to American audiences. So, when it was announced that Queen City was performing the UK version, I was very interested.
For those Chess fans out there, make the time to attend this production. Though there are still some significant problems with the musical, it is a far better piece than the American version. It is tighter, more vibrant, easier to follow, yet more complex. Glenn T. Griffin’s production , like his earlier Evita, simplifies the staging for the smaller Duke Energy Theatre, and makes some bold choices that mostly pay off.
What works best in this production are the performances of Glenn T. Griffin, Alyson Lowe, and Jonathan Elliot Coursey. Coursey plays the spoiled American Frederick Trumper. He is the Tiger Woods of the chess world—brilliant and temperamental, with a weakness for the fairer sex and a lust for the spotlight. Coursey is able to handle some truly difficult musical moments in character and with great style. Able to be both subtle when needed and bombastic, Coursey made it all seem easy—though I very much doubt that is the case. Lowe plays Florence Vassey, the East European assistant to Freddy. Lowe has a wonderful rock voice and could be both tender and hysterical (which in this musical is very much a requirement). Lowe does her best making some truly momentous leaps in character and makes it almost seem natural. It is no wonder that Ms. Lowe is becoming a favorite of Charlotte audiences, she has a remarkable voice and presence. Glenn T. Griffin, pulling double duty as director and playing Russian chess master Anatoly, is nothing short of mesmerizing. Each moment of his performance is clear, original and precise. From his first moment on stage, Griffin clearly dominates the show without tipping the balance. This version is about Anatoly’s journey, and Griffin doesn’t let us forget that. It’s a shame it’s taken him this long to get on stage. I hope it won’t be so long next time.
Other actors of note include Kristian Wedolowski as the arbiter. Wedolowski manages to find the right balance between clown and villain and brings the house down with crowd favorite, “One Night in Bangkok.” Matthew Corbett with his beautiful baritone voice, is sufficiently oily as Russian puppet master, Alexander. Allison Rhinehardt is equally oily as the oddly named Walter Decourcey, Alexander’s American counterpart. Clearly written for a man, Rhinehardt gives us a nice cross between Madeline Albright and Hillary Clinton.
Less successful, though certainly talented, is Terry Henry-Norman as Svetlana. Ms. Henry-Norman is amazingly talented and clearly knows how to sell a song, but her performance of “Someone Else’s story” seemed more fitting for American Idol. It was difficult to imagine this powerful, self-assured woman as the pawn of the Russian government. She fairs better during “I know him so well,” but I still hoped for more moments of vulnerability—though admittedly, the book doesn’t give her much to work with.
With a simple Chess board setting by Kristian Wedolowski and a dynamic lighting design by Emily Eudy, the action is never stalled for even a moment. The costume concept is clever enough—the ensemble are dressed in a strange disco-S & M-chess piece mashup—but I longed for the restraint of Evita, Queen City’s earlier musical of last season. I felt both costumes and the very complex choreography of Heidy Ludden sometimes stole focus and seemed a little like gilding the lilly—adding more then necessary to a solid production.
Director, Glenn T. Griffin makes a bold decision here to eliminate all male chorus members. This might have been necessitated by the talent available, but since the ensemble represents the forces of America and Russia, it feminizes these forces—not to mention thinning out the sound of many of the chorus numbers. The ensemble is a powerful group of women who were fully committed from start to finish (and this is an exhausting show), but I did notice the lack of men in the ensemble.
Still despite these small shortcomings, the powerful performances of the leads and one of the best rock scores for any musical since the invention of the rock musical, makes for a truly satisfying evening of musical theatre. There hasn’t been a better production of Chess that I’m aware of anywhere in the metrolina area. Griffin and Lowe are scintillating to watch! The production is smart, exciting, complex, and brassy. Queen City Theatre has a reputation for putting on energetic, passionate, and original productions—Chess fits nicely in that tradition! Review by Tim Baxter-Ferguson
Tim Baxter-Ferguson is professor of Theatre at Limestone College and Chair of that program. He has had his plays produced throughout the United States and Canada.
Thirty years on, CATS continues to be a theatrical phenomenon that intrigues and entertains, propelled by its own legend as much as its worthy production elements. It certainly has an unusual genesis: based mainly on T.S. Eliot’s Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats, as well as some of his serendipitously discovered unpublished writing, its feline portraits derive their musical color from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s dynamic and characteristic compositions. The simple but evocative plotline, at once mythic and sly, treats the audience to tableaux of various cats in the Jellicle clan. They gather for an evening of rendezvous and renewal, the latter becoming quite literal as the aged clan leader selects which member will be re-born into the next cat life. For all the tomcat-foolery on display by these agile and preening creatures, there are also moments of drama writ large in the story of Grizabella, the former glamour cat who is so dependent on “Memory”, the song for which the audience holds its collective breath. But perhaps the most remarkable feature of the show is its choreographic presence.
This is a show without dialogue, where music, dance, and movement take us into an alien and yet familiar world where anthropomorphized cats stand in for both nice and naughty humans. There is nothing subtle about the show’s obvious emotional appeal, though there is, on close examination, plenty of individual nuance that is perhaps more subliminal and elevating. There are times when the music and dance sequences seem overly long, but the sheer fun and exuberance on display in the ensemble pleads for allowances.
This touring production pays homage to its origins as a modern classic musical, and yet keeps it fresh. The company is made up of incredibly talented singer-dancers who breathe new life into this well-known material and keep up a high degree of energy throughout. There are many wonderful performances to be seen and heard here, and audience members will surely select their own favorite “cats”. Of particular note, Kathryn Holtkamp makes some interesting choices in her portrayal of Grizabella, and her delivery of the show’s most “memorable” song is emotionally and technically powerful.
The choreography feels comfortably familiar yet innovative, and is of course successful by virtue of performers who convincingly transform themselves into cats for over two hours on stage. They are ably assisted in this by superb make-up and costumes, which are no less riveting than when the show premiered. The single set ably conveys a nighttime junkyard that is simply perfect for prowling, partying felines, and the lighting takes us credibly from the depths of night into the magical aftermath of morning. The musicians also do great justice to the myriad styles used by Lloyd Webber, condensed through his musical theatre lens.
This well-executed production of CATS is a joy to behold, and would also make a wonderful introduction to musical theatre for children. The show seems to have countless lives, and if this company is representative of the Jellicle clan, they will continue to land on their feet for many years to come. Review by Elizabeth Peterson-Vita
Elizabeth Peterson-Vita, Ph.D., is co-founder and Creative Director of Actors Scene Unseen. She is a clinical psychologist and the award-winning director of numerous stage and audio CD productions, including The Turn of the Screw, The Fifth Sun, Gilgamesh - A Verse Play, Nijinsky's Last Dance, and A Broadway Christmas Carol. She is also an actor, writer, and freelance film and theatre reviewer.
Every year students who have been studying at Children’s Theatre’s School of Theatre Training Program since September work on four plays and rehearse for five weeks bringing the productions on stage for a weekend of theatre. This exciting event showcases the talents of young actors/theatre artists and is one of the highlights of the Children’s Theatre season. This year, as usual, there is an interesting mix of shows. Each show is performed twice during the weekend and is about an hour long. One of the best years yet for OnStage.
DISNEY’S MULAN, JR.
Music & Lyrics by Matthew Wilder, David Zippel
Stephen Schwartz, Jeanine Tesori, Alexa Junge
Music Adapted and Arranged and additional Lyrics by
Bryan Louiselle
Book adapted and additional lyrics by Patricia Cotter
Based on the 1998 Disney Film Mulan
Directed by Kelly Cates
Here’s another large cast, this time with younger actors/singers/dancers, so the concentration is not quite so focused, but in exchange you get a charming, humorous experience. The story takes the audience to ancient China. Mythical elements include ancient ancestors who bemoan Mulan’s lack of interest in finding a suitable husband thereby bringing disgrace to the family, and Mushu the dragon (Tessa Giordano) who becomes her comical protector. Mulan (Brooke Feinglass), an outspoken tomboy, pretends to be a male and joins the army to protect her aged father (Sarah Nicholson), the only male in the family, from having to become a soldier again. The sentence for this deceit, if she is caught, is death, but Mulan proves she is more than a mere “girl”; she is a brave, smart, hero who saves China from the invading Huns.
Brooke Feinglass has stage presence and poise as the lead. She also handles the musical numbers well. Tessa Giordano provides comic relief as the smart-mouth dragon. The large ensemble works well together contributing yet more comic elements when needed, but also a sense of pageantry. Nice job by music director Meredith Swanson. Well done.
JAMES AND THE GIANT PEACH
From the book by Roald Dahl
Dramatized by Richard George
Directed by Sidney Horton
Roald Dahl’s highly developed sense of warped fantasy appeals to children because he manages to strike a balance between magic and nonsense, whimsy and darker elements of human nature. Several narrators relate the story of James (Caleb Miller) who is an orphan, his parents having been eaten by a rhinoceros. He goes to live with his two mean aunts: Aunt Spiker (Rae Brown), and Aunt Sponge (Anna Mace), two nasty old ladies. One day James is approached and given a bag of magic crocodile tongues which he promptly lets fall to the ground near a dying peach tree. This leads to the growth of the Giant Peach and his fantastic adventures inside the huge fruit with a group of large bugs and spiders who become friends to the lonely boy.
This cast looks like they are thoroughly enjoying themselves. Some characters in the book are shared by several performers, but this doesn’t detract from the show, but in fact, makes it more fun. Caleb Miller does a nice job as James, making him a likeable hero. The aunts, Rae Brown and Anna Mace, are terrific. Notable costumes by Barbi Van Schaick, and graphics on screen that help tell the story. Magically delightful.
SELKIE
Written by Laurie Brooks
Directed by Craig Kolkebeck
This lyrical play is based on a variation of the myth of “selkies” or seals that can shed their skins and take human form. In a small Scottish seaside town, the selkies come ashore one evening. Duncan (Ian Easterbrook) sees a silver seal and takes her skin and hides it so she can’t return to the sea. Now called Margaret (Kristen Perry), she and Duncan have a daughter named Ellen Jean (Madi Simpson) who is thirteen and confused about her identity. Ellen Jean’s Grandfather, Pa (Calvin Gross) provides the wisdom of ages having lived by the sea all his life. A story of love and sacrifice, and understanding that in the end all living creatures must be true to what and who they are.
This is a lovely production with dance (choreography by Cameron Wade), song, costumes (Jason Estrada), and set design (Andrew Gibbon) perfectly coordinated. The entire cast maintains a Scottish accent throughout. The five leads are especially good: Madi Simpson, Kristen Perry, Ian Easterbrook, Calvin Gross, and Jackson Zerkle. But all the young actors on stage support the production. What is impressive is that the supporting cast has learned a particularly important skill, which is to actively listen to the other actors on stage even when they have no action or dialogue. This is a trait of all good actors, no matter where they perform. Bravo.
WORKING
Based on the book by Studs Terkel
Adapted by Stephen Schwartz & Nina Faso
Songs by Craig Carnelia, Micki Grant,
Mary Rogers and Susan Birkenhead,
Stephen Schwartz, and James Taylor
Directed by Adam Steffan
Studs Terkel gave a voice to the working class, and how ironic that this production is presented at a time when many people want to work but can’t find jobs. The play is based on an oral history of people Mr. Terkel interviewed about their feelings for their particular jobs. Converting a book into play form is never easy, but it works here because of the music. This is a huge ensemble of actors, even with the large stage.
The stories are presented mostly through monologues and songs backed up by the ensemble. There is humor, poignancy, and recognition by the audience since we have all had some kind of work experience. Everyone gives their all to the production and I wish I could mention some of the outstanding performers by name, but I’m only able to mention them (interestingly) by their jobs; the iron worker, the housewife and the cleaning lady. Nice work by musical director Randy Price, musician Brandon DiMatteo, choreographer Adam Steffan, costumer Kehlee Walsh. Very well done. Reviews 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 member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
Faith and reason, religion and science have long been in conflict. John Pielmeier's play from the 1980s weaves such conflicts into an intriguing murder mystery, while also suggesting current abortion and pedophilia debates in the Catholic Church. And CAST envelopes this play with a chapel-like lobby and set, extending its perverse twists to involve the audience.
Beige pastel walls, church banners with the Holy Ghost and crosses, a statue of the Virgin Mother, and Easter flowers greet spectators as they enter the building on Clement Avenue—in the final transformation of this space by CAST, before the company moves to a new theatre in NoDa for their next show in June. Nuns at the box office give spectators a wooden cross for a ticket. Another nun, beer in hand, passes out programs, near the holy water font. Cherubs are painted on the lobby wall. There's a small organ in the corner, chandeliers with candles, and votive candles in glass cups along the bar. Drinks, according to the nun with programs and beer, are allowed inside the chapel.
There, in a marvelous "boxagon" set design by Tim Baxter-Ferguson (with whom I've worked on playwriting projects), a large flower-petal mandala covers the floor, with various scientific symbols at its tips and a Rorschach blot at its center. Gray Gothic arches suggest further transcendent spaces above, and yet a psychiatrist's desk, shaped like a church altar, grounds the initial setting. There are stained glass windows with Mary figures, but some are broken, including one where the audience and actors enter. (Applause is also due to Aiden Baxter-Ferguson, Buddy Hanson, Audrey Alford, Carol White, and Dave Thompson for the glass, scene, and lobby art.)
Mother Miriam (Paula Baldwin) tells the psychiatrist, Dr. Livingston (Cynthia Farbman Harris), that the young Sister Agnes (Loren Dortch Crozier) sings with the "voice of an angel"—and the audience hears that, too, as part of the play. The acting, however, is fast and furious, missing some of the script's intricacies. Strong emotions are present, but the play becomes more of an opera than a subtle psychological exploration of female antagonists, opposed in their religious and scientific viewpoints, yet working together to solve a mystery involving a third women's body, mind, and soul.
21-year-old Agnes has a child's mind, with divine aspirations, yet traumatic terrors. She was physically abused by her mother as a child and isolated at home without any books or television. Her apparent innocence was preserved at the convent, until a dead baby appeared in a wastebasket in her room, its umbilical cord around its neck. Agnes may have been raped by a priest—or by an angel. She still hears her mother's voice criticizing her weight. She also suffers from occasional stigmata in her palms. So, is she a victim of parental and religious abuse—or a murderer? (The actress balances this ambiguity well, despite the overheated pace of the play's direction.)
Miriam tries to protect Agnes from Dr. Livingston, a "surgeon of the mind." But this "Mother Superior" may also be involved in a crime—if the baby was born alive and the two nuns killed it. Flashbacks and hypnosis scenes reveal many twists to the plot, as Mother Miriam becomes, by turns, a suspect and ally to the psychiatrist-detective, who uses the audience to confess her guilty dreams and wants to believe, like the nuns, in miracles, despite her atheistic and scientific convictions.
CAST has made miraculous things happen in 8 years of ritual, experimental theatre on Clement Avenue (settling there after performing in NoDa and Matthews for 5 years). This play forms a fitting finale to this space—inspiring further belief in the theatre's future elsewhere. 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.
The Ensemble Company of Children’s Theatre presents challenging work at the end of their nine-month training program. This year they chose Lord of the Flies, the classic novel turned full-length play. How would children/teens act if left alone without adults and stranded on a deserted island? If you are familiar with William Golding’s novel you already know. When it was written in 1954 many objected to it believing that children were more innocent than depicted in his book, but far fewer people feel that way today. With cruelty evidenced right on our home computers you can see how mean young people can be to each other. That doesn’t take away from Golding’s book, but rather strengthens his themes.
This is a demanding play because where a book can take a number of pages to develop characters, a play must get right into the story. When the play opens the students have just been in a plane crash and all adults are killed, certainly a traumatic experience. The setup happens quickly and it is perhaps a little too obvious right from the start who the aggressive bullies are, rather than presenting a more subtle build-up. This kind of interpretation of the material can sometimes produce one-note performances.
Without restraints--no teachers, no adults--something ominous is going to happen. In Lord of the Flies the horror is in the transformation of English schoolboys into evil and violent “hunters” when there are no limits placed on them by society. Some of the characters are not inherently evil but go along out of group dynamics. For audience members watching, much more impact is achieved when the drama escalates before your eyes.
Director Mark Sutton’s ensemble certainly works well together. They are talented, well-rehearsed, and have worked hard. Out of a very good cast special mention of Ian Fermy, Savannah Devore, Nick Delgadillo, Isaac Josephthal, and Aubrey McGrath. I applaud the casting of females in male roles, which works well here. The technical crew did outstanding work on the production.
This show is well worth seeing. It is a reminder to parents, and a cautionary tale for young people. 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 member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
Playing for Others is a very worthy non-profit organization. They bring teens grades 8-12 together to work with specific organizations. This year their partner is Charlotte’s Metro School. (Click here to learn more about Playing for Others) The play project they picked this year is Pied Piper: The Musical. This charming musical play is a good choice as children are the focus of Playing for Others.
The fairytale is well-known, but many elements enhance the story on stage. The musical numbers are well-suited to the subject and more memorable than most music in children’s plays. Director Jen Band has again done a terrific job gathering committed, talented teens who have worked hard on every aspect of the production. Especially notable is the set design by Christie Kahil and constructed by Mike Snow. The fanciful town square is functional with numerous windows, and openings for actors to come and go. The costumes by Hope Johnston and the Costume Committee are outstanding for this type of show.
Of course, the actors/dancers are the main attraction and, with the help of children’s director Kaitlin Wightman-Ausman and assistant director Anna Gaeckle, they are well-rehearsed, and most importantly look like they are having a great time. Jamie Marsicano can be excused if he is, at times, hyper-exuberant as he leads the cast as Mayor of Hamelin dealing with a severe rat population. The large ensemble is full of energy throughout the play, and if occasionally the choreography looks more like aerobics than dancing, they are totally in synch and with the program. Notable in the cast are Allison Whitmeyer, Anna Claire Joyner, Jordan Monaghan, and Anna Brunson, but this is not to slight anyone as everyone is a joy to watch.
The word got out rather late, but there are several more productions remaining through this weekend. I thoroughly enjoyed this show, and I think children will too. Not only is it worth seeing, but the proceeds will help this worthwhile Charlotte organization. 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 member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
How do I come to believe in myself, or have my identity shaped by key events, while performing for others in daily life? Friel's play is a mysterious meditation on this everyday theatrical question—posed with a trio of characters reflecting on how their lives intersected with others', when they traveled in a faith-healing show, through Wales, Scotland, and Ireland. It demands concentration from the audience, piecing together the networks of these lives, through tragic flaws, comical views, and miraculous moments.
Usually, a play's conflict focuses on the interaction of characters onstage together, with an audience viewing the goals, obstacles, and results of current dialog and action. But Friel puts each character onstage alone, one at a time, so that we see the remnants of their relationships in the ghostly presences and remembrances of each persona. First, Frank (Nathan Rouse) explains himself and his faith-healing gift. He says it only worked 10% of the time, and he was plagued with doubt about whether it was his faith or the sufferer's that made the healing occur. He admits he was unfaithful to his wife, Grace, and that their child was stillborn while on the road. He says their relationship, like his life as a traveling healer, was "always balanced somewhere between the absurd and momentous." He describes his return home to Ireland, after 20 years away, arriving an hour late at his mother's deathbed, and yet curing the deformed finger of a man in a bar. But he leaves much unsaid, which is then brought out, in further lyrical terms and with the chanting of small-town names, by Grace (Christina Whitehouse-Suggs), appearing alone in a different place, and by their promoter, Teddy (James K. Flynn).
All these performers, under the fine direction of Jenny Wade, use precise gestures onstage, plus the play's lyrical brogue, to draw the audience into the mysteries of the characters' lives, personalities, and differing perspectives. The set, designed by Daniel Fleming, evokes poetic meanings also: with wood grain emerging from the black stage floor, with chairs around an old-fashioned sign that advertizes "The Fantastic Francis Hardy," with a desk, decanter, and cigarettes to show Grace's alienation, with a softer chair, dog bed, and beer bottles for Teddy's charming explanation of the problematic "talent" in his human and animal shows, and with a pile of dirt under a cross, representing various details in their lives. (Both Wade and Fleming are former students of mine at UNC-Charlotte.)
Grace says Frank saw his audiences as extensions of himself—as successful fictions if there was a cure—and that's when she ceased to exist. She calls herself "one of his fictions, too," and doesn't know if she can go on living "without his sustenance." Teddy tells of his dog and bird acts, as well as human performers, saying that talent can be "castrated" by brains. Yet he eventually admits his "love" for both Frank and Grace, even after Frank abandoned her while she was giving birth, leaving Teddy to help her heal.
Each of these tragic, complex characters spins, while alone onstage, a multidimensional web of comic or ironic insights. Reflecting in ghostly ways upon the past, they make the audience an extension of themselves, a fictional part of their lives. Thus, the show's success, beyond its excellent artistry, depends on the faith of theatre-goers in Charlotte, to be present and to let these ghosts live on—curing related ills in their memories and imaginations, too. 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.
Tomás and the Library Lady is based on the inspirational true story of Tomás Rivera, born to farm laborers, who rose to become the youngest Chancellor of the University of California, Riverside. We often get saturated with stories from the media about people who start with nothing but rise to great heights. Yet, it doesn’t happen as often as it seems, and sometimes looks easier than it actually is. It takes years of hard work, often under adverse circumstances, to achieve that kind of success.
The good thing is that in this one-hour play the audience gets some insight into just how difficult it was for Tomás as a child. As the son of migrant farm laborers from Texas Tomás travels with his younger brother, exhausted parents, and grandfather who earn meager wages trying to keep the family together. Tomás is tormented by nightmares of a teacher who yells at him insisting he speak English. As luck would have it, the family ends up in Iowa one summer where Tomás discovers a small library and a librarian who takes an interest in him, and conveys her love of reading and books. She is a nameless hero; one of those people who come into others’ lives, give of themselves, and are sometimes remembered or thanked too late. As Tomás did, the payback is in kind.
The Tarradiddle Players, Salvador Garcia, Leslie Ann Giles, Darlene Parker, Stephen Seay, are again impressive in their performances. Mr. Garcia speaks Spanish fluently, but the others had to learn their lines with correct pronunciation. Mr. Seay plays guitar and helps the others with the musical sequences, though the recorded music at times overpowers the lyrics. The compact set by Tim Parati ingeniously “opens” up to reveal detailed library shelves. Lighting by Hallie Gray, sound by Van Coble, Jr., costumes by Marina Arconti, and props by Peter Smeal also add to the atmospherics.
Director Craig Kolkebeck’s sensitive direction gives a glimpse into the feelings and thoughts of a family struggling to beat the odds and “make it” in America. At some point most of us had family that came to this country from somewhere else. What many wisely conveyed to their children is that knowledge, all manner of knowledge, is the key. That holds true to this day. 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 member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
What relationship do we have to the past—and why do we repeat its tragic errors? Ines de Castro is a play from 1989 about aristocrats in Portugal 650 years ago. It shows the romantic journey of Ines, moving from her contagious joy at being Prince Pedro's mistress and the mother of his children to terror at their murder, to stoic power with her own execution, to the macabre return of her corpse, and her wisdom as a ghost.
Katie Bearden (a former theatre student of mine at UNCC), provides a compelling center for this production as Ines—with an intense onstage presence and precise emotional shifts. Her tragic odyssey is due to a flawed, yet courageous decision to stay in Portugal, not fleeing back to Spain, during the war between these countries. She trusts in her lover's father, the Portuguese king, who proves too weak or malicious to protect her and his grandchildren. Eventually, she meets the figure of Fate, knitting the complex interactions of human lives and deaths. The old woman says she takes sight, money, and dignity away from others like Ines, yet tells her not to be afraid.
Throughout the play, a wonderful atmosphere is created: with poetic images projected on white sheets around the stage, with votive candles and flowers, and with live drum, guitar, and flute music at poignant points. Costumes are also key, suggesting wealth and armor in economical ways.
The tendencies of men toward war, revenge, and brutality, the defiant suffering of women, and the mystical possibilities of transcendent viewpoints interweave in this historical tragedy. It echoes an ageless, evolutionary, and romantic question: why are humans, with sublime mental powers and angelic aspirations, so cruel to one another? 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.
What's a blue man group? Three male humanoids, with bright blue, bald heads and ears flat to their skulls, stare at the audience and each other. Their faces are almost expressionless and they never speak, yet their simple movements are expanded by audience responses (and sometimes by live video). They play with paint while drumming. They spray bright colors onto canvases. They catch putty balls in their mouths and form them into a sculpture. And they use paddles to play PVC pipes of various lengths, amplified electronically, along with a rock band above and behind them. (Bring earplugs if you want to save your hearing.)
So what do they represent? Alien visitors making playful discoveries? Modern cavemen creating art and music with primitive methods and today's materials? The trickster myth of a forest Green Man, turned blue as the sky or sea? Virtual creatures from a James Cameron movie? A new racial group showing how we share a fundamental sense of wonder, no matter what the color of our skin? Maybe all this and more—-since the show has evolved over decades to include parodies of various technologies (even as these avant-garde characters of the New York performance art scene became pop-cult figures on TV talk shows and commercials).
The audience plays a role, too, in the fun of these mysterious beings. Even before the blue men appear, red-light letters move along the frame over the stage, giving the usual admonitions against cell phones and photography, but also making jokes and orchestrating spectators into a chanting chorus. The light and music show continues with the blue man group and their band as they encounter the audience and other odd elements in their environment, such as a new "Gi-pad" device. This is an oversize version of an iPod/iPad with apps on vertical panels taller than they are. They read with it, multitasking, and play games, winning a prize of "Cap'n Crunch" cereal. Then their crunching gets amplified and visualized on the Gi-pad, as a marching rhythm.
The blue ones also explore the auditorium. They bring a woman to the stage for a romantic meal, which turns into Twinkie craziness. The audience participates in kinetic lessons on rock concert moves. And huge inflated balls in changing colors bounce on spectators' hands, while paper streamers fly over them.
It's a unique experience, more body art and rock concert than storytelling. Yet it's a spirited ritual even if the myth is murky—-or still being discovered—-as the blue people explore our multimedia, through quizzical parodies, and interact with each new 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.
They're everywhere! Ringing, distracting, and annoying us. We live more and more through handheld media, which puts us in a "cell," tied to others elsewhere through satellites above. So we become like angels, connected beyond our bodies and yet more alone in them. Sarah Ruhl's poetic absurdist play offers a comic fable for our current odd existence—and its surreal theatre of long-distance souls.
Jean (Catherine Smith) gets annoyed, while finishing her lobster bisque in a café, at a cell not being answered. So she answers it for the man at the other table—then realizes he's dead. She holds his hand and asks if he's still there, in his body. She falls in love with his spirit, as she creates her ideal of "Gordon" (Christian Casper) through compassion at his death. She finds a mission for her life in scripting his character, making up what he might've said and done for family and friends in that café at the end of his. (Eventually, we learn, even before she does, about "compassionate obfuscation" in his business dealings, too.)
Keeping his cell and kindly breaking the bad news to those who call, she meets with his glamorous mistress (Glynnis O'Donoghue) and his bereaved, agnostic, agonistic mother, Mrs. Gottlieb (Polly Adkins). Then she has dinner with her, and with Gordon's widow, Hermia (Allison Lamb), and his brother, Dwight (John C. Cunningham). Jean lies about his last words and gives them presents from the café as his last wishes. She also lies about working under him, but then learns that he created an international organ-selling company. Soon she enters into a tryst with Dwight, through a passion they share for the nostalgic feel of embossed stationery, though she insists on answering the dead man's cell, even if Gordon's brother forbids it. This draws her into a farcical spy scene in South Africa, an afterlife meeting with Gordon, and a return to the live man she actually loves on earth.
With many witty twists of language and fate, Ruhl's play explores the realms of the living and the dead, through the cell's calls and love's lures. The set (designed by Chip Decker) beautifully expresses the light-hearted spirit of the play, as it addresses heavy issues of mortality, technology, and immortality. A blue-sky and white-cloud motif covers the walls (and even the tablecloth at the Gottlieb family dinner), yet with umbrella cutouts and square panels disrupting the ideal heavenly allusion—like a Magritte painting. Scene changes are carefully choreographed, with stagehands in long black raincoats, twirling the umbrella-adorned frames that suggest new locations. Characters are somewhat caricatured, like the scenery, but precisely coordinated by the actors and director, for laughs and meaning. Their cosmic transits become especially spectacular, even if in jest.
There are many insightful moments: about the lack of sacred, silent places in our cell-phony world, about the joy of simple things like paper (shown also with a scenic surprise), about our current existence beyond the body "in molecules of air" as well as technology—-and about disconnection between people, the disembodiment caused by high-speed transit, and the ruthlessness of business, from the viewpoint of the dead man, reflecting on his last day. Basically, this is a double love story, evoking the lure of the ideal and appreciation for the real, with many associations romanticized and parodied, but also a vision of heaven given, beyond grief, religion, and cells ringing.
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.
Kudos to James Yost and Chaos Ensemble for an excellent production. They have taken Stephen Karam’s clever, funny play and made it their own. Too often in the past plays about teenagers, especially those about kids who are outsiders, tended to have a gauzy, overly sentimental feel about them. Not so in Speech & Debate. Initially the characters don’t even like each other.
It takes place in Salem, Oregon. Yes, and Arthur Miller is mentioned in case you don’t get the connection. Three misfits come together, eventually, to form the new Speech & Debate club. They are manic wanna-be actress Diwata (Olivia Dalzell), wanna-be reporter Solomon (Tanner Agle), and reluctant new student Howie (Tony Zanghi). They are an unlikely group except they all have one thing in common, they are unhappy. When you don’t fit the mold in high school, it’s usually an unpleasant few years. There are plenty of people around to remind you how odd you are. Yet, what is appealing about these characters is that they keep trying to find a way to make themselves relevant, if only to themselves.
Each of the characters has something to hide from the others. It’s poignant that they are forced to deal with such serious issues. The internet makes everything worse with its lack of privacy, and easy access to information, especially embarrassing information.
Diwata starts the club because she hasn’t been cast in the school play. This is funny because she doesn’t even try to be magnanimous about losing the part to someone else. She’s probably more honest than many actors who harbor resentment but still try to be good sports. Here, we get to see her (purposely) bad acting, and understand why she won’t get cast anytime soon. She resents the unseen drama teacher Mr. Healy, and is determined to get something on him. It has been rumored that he comes on to teenage boys. Olivia Dalzell is wonderful as the freaky motor-mouth Diwata.
Tanner Agle is equally excellent in the difficult role of Solomon, the seemingly straight arrow who is overly interested in Mr. Healy and his provocative online conversations with boys. He elicits sympathy as someone who desperately wants to be something other than what he is, as it takes tremendous energy to have to pretend all the time. Tony Zanghi puts it all out there as the openly gay Howie who finds himself blackmailed into being part of the club by Diwata and Solomon. Yet, there is sadness there, too, as a new kid starting over in another high school. Anne Lambert is the only adult actor in the production and seamlessly fits in with the ensemble as both a teacher and a reporter.
Mr. Yost and his student directors, Brian Garcia (nice job with the choreography), and Kara Spangler, worked well with the cast, getting them to a place where no break in character or dialogue is noticeable. The set design is simple but functional, lighting by Trista Bremer services the play well, costumes are on target, and the video and graphics by Mr. Yost notably enhance the production.
Speech & Debate is playing through this weekend. The themes and language are more adult than you might expect. Yet, the serious title belies the fun you will have. Try to catch it at the Duke Energy Theatre if you can. 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 member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
Lyle is unlike any other crocodile, he’s polite, sweet, and only eats Turkish caviar. Well, you’re bound to be a bit different when your introduction to your new family finds you taking a bath in their new apartment, aren’t you?
Children’s Theatre of Charlotte creates a visual extravaganza of the almost fifty year old children’s books by Bernard Waber. Playwright Kevin Kling combines both The House on East 88th Street and Lyle, Lyle the Crocodile to give us the story of the most extraordinary New York City croc you’re ever likely to come across.
It becomes more difficult to surprise and amaze in the realm of children’s literature these days, but when Mr. Waber was a writer/illustrator; his first books about an animal that is cultured and lives like a human were more unusual. The books remain delightful for an almost pure joy at being alive. He clearly loves each of his characters since he has even given the “villain” Mr. Grumps (Mark Sutton, showing his versatility) some saving graces. His theme in the play, though simple, is still relevant today--to like someone “for who they are,” the total person, faults and all. Young children accept others readily; it’s only as we get older that we lose that innocent acceptance of others. Witty asides and adult references will keep the parents interested and laughing, too, as the production boldly makes fun of itself.
The story of Lyle is narrated by Hector P. Valenti (James Dracy, worldly and elegant even in a purple suit), who had an act with Lyle until audiences started to dwindle. He decides to leave Lyle with the Primm family. Mr. Primm (Nicholas Kern, amusing and expressive) and Mrs. Primm (Marat Decker Seitz, so much fun to watch) are still wildly in love which is nice to see. Their son Joshua Primm (Isaac Josephthal, giving a natural, unaffected performance) is the first to warm to the reptile. Lyle soon wins over the parents and the adventures begin in earnest though others are not quite sure about a loose crocodile.
Jonathan Elliot Coarsey is excellent as the silent Lyle. He manages to convey Lyle’s personality in a costume with a large head and webbed feet. He is convincing enough that young children in the audience were calling out to him during the performance. Also notable in the cast is Barbi Van Schaick, always a crowd favorite, as Mrs. Nitpicker, and the talented and amusing chorus performers who play multiple roles: Jimmy Cartee, Sidney Horton, Steven Ivey, Andrea King, Josh Looney, Jeremy Shane, and James Lee Walker.
Drina Keen’s music direction and merging of musical styles fits with the artistic mix and match of the show. Ron Chisholm’s choreography also adds his special touch of whimsy to the production.
Director Alan Poindexter assembles a first rate cast, crew and technical team, but his biggest strength as a director may be his overall creative vision for each show he directs. In this case, a rather sweet, simple story is elevated by the wonderfully outrageous set design by Bob Croghan, costumes by Courtney Burt Scott, and properties design by Peter Smeal. The New York City apartment façades, the striking color combinations, the “crowds” and “cars” and more, are fantastic.
People of Charlotte, all I can say is WOW! 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 member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
I wasn't sure I would like this production from the moment I stepped inside of the theatre lobby. I actually thought I had gone to the wrong place. It was empty. Until I turned the corner and noticed a few stragglers at the ticket office, I assumed I'd be the only one attending. Fortunately, after making my way inside the Duke Energy Theatre, I realized the place was packed.
It was an intimate setting; the auditorium seating was pushed back and hidden behind a curtain, while individual chairs had been placed in a semi-circle close to the action. Minimal props were littered about, making me wonder if this would actually work.
Well, it did. The entire production worked beautifully from the onset of the first character, Miss Pat, who was a flight attendant on a slave plane passing through time to the last character Topsy, a party-hard New Yorker who never sleeps and loves to move her hips to any beat that's bumping. This play is by far the most entertaining production I've witnessed this year. I laughed so hard during one scene, that I had to rummage through my purse for tissue to dab the tears away.
If I could sum up The Colored Museum in one word, it would have to be awesome! Anyone needing a great time must go and see this production while it lasts.
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 work has appeared in Uptown Magazine and Dawn enjoys reviewing theater productions, movies, and loves most things artistic.
What happens when the Sesame Street generation grows up? Communal wisdom, cheerful yet ironic songs, and perverse wit is what happens—in this queer, New-York-based, 2003-Tony-winning musical, a puppet parody (perhaps also of Rent) that educates and entertains like the PBS TV show but for "mature" audiences only.
With periodic videos at the sides of the stage that remind us about the Sesame Street teaching style, the actors onstage play human characters or carry puppets that are either human or furry "monsters." But here Cookie Monster is a perverse neighbor obsessed with "porn" instead of cookies. He interrupts the song of a more human-looking puppet, an assistant kindergarten teacher, Kate Monster, to explain what the Internet is really for. Other characters also sing with shocking honesty about a "useless" BA diploma in English, how it "sucks to be me," and how "everyone's a little bit racist sometimes."
Kate and Princeton, a human in puppet form, fall in love, shyly at first, crossing the species divide. On their first date, they're influenced by Lucy, a sultry singer (who's like, but not as charming as, TV's Miss Piggy), and the cute and cuddly, blue and yellow, Bad Idea Bears, who encourage them to drink too many Long Island Iced Teas. Then the lovebirds share a wild night of sex, which is shown onstage, in hilarious ways.
Kate gets fired by Mrs. Thistletwat, whose kindergarten class she was supposed to teach, after she oversleeps with Princeton. Also unemployed, he becomes more concerned with finding a purpose for his life than in developing his relationship with her. Likewise, roommates Nicky and Rod deny their attraction to each other—and that they're gay (while mirroring TV's Bert and Ernie). Another neighbor, Brian, is bossed around by his Asian fiancée and eventual wife, Christmas Eve, who becomes Rod's blunt therapist. Former childhood TV star and black celebrity, Gary Coleman, must make do now as their tenement supervisor. Yet they all help one another to learn, survive, and grow. In this frankly existential comedy of manners, ironic lessons are offered through song, dance, and parody, such as "The more you love someone, the more you want to kill him."
The unit set functions in multiple ways: from dingy apartments packed tightly together, with neon framed windows at times (like on a TV game show), to a local bar, a dream spectacle with colored bubbles, a wedding monster nightmare, and the Empire State Building. The show's broad musical numbers are often delightful, although the caricatured relationships and stilted voices get somewhat tedious. The use of profanity may become funnier with repetition, but also off-putting to many in the Charlotte audience. And yet, the young actors' energy and puppetry is thoroughly engaging—with their faces expressing the spirits of the puppets they carry and some actors performing several voices, even in the same scene.
This musical sketch comedy is entertaining throughout, even if increasingly predictable as parody. It makes great fun of the restrictions in educational television—speaking to today's aimless youth with modest notes of hope: "Everyone's a little bit unsatisfied" and "Everything in life is only ... for now." There's also deep cynicism at times, as with a song teaching us the word "schadenfreude" (joy in others' sorrow). The jobless, homeless, and job-hating characters can barely believe in purposeful, happy-ending dreams. Yet, the show's hilarious lyrics, musical flourishes, and playfulness with media images suggest more potential for those raised on Sesame Street, as humans and monsters, maturing and finding various purposes in life, by not only criticizing, but also giving to others and improving our world. 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.
Irish playwright Martin McDonagh challenges his audiences with violent characters, who are scary, absurd, and yet somehow sympathetic. In this, his newest play and the first set in America, a white racist has been searching most of his lifetime for his lost left hand, but carries many hands with him in a suitcase. The source of his cruelty seems to be a strangely Freudian overcompensation. His revenge against the "hillbillies" who wounded him extends to many others, as he seeks to recover what is of "no use" to him.
CAST welcomes the audience with various elements of the play as soon as they enter: maps on the walls, a giant panda with a suitcase, a box office that's like a hotel desk, a ticket with mysterious baggage, a gibbon exhibit around the bathrooms, a balloon caught in a tree in the lobby, and paintings of the "behanding." Onstage, Robert Lee Simmons provides the most precise and eerie energy as the hotel clerk Mervyn, who desires excitement more than staying alive. Derrick J. Hines and Elise DuQuette play Toby and Marilyn, the anxious black man and ditzy white woman who try to trick Carmichael by selling him a stolen hand from a museum like his missing one. They also bring a quirky sincerity and stubborn foolishness to the crazy racist's hotel room.
But the script here is not as compelling as other McDonagh plays that have hit Charlotte recently (The Pillowman and The Lieutenant of Inishmore). Maybe the loquacious excesses of violent characters and their victims, fretting over incidental details of the stories they tell or odd objects around them, does not work as well when they're not Irish, inheriting a century of terrorism on the Emerald Isle. Or maybe this 90 minute play just doesn't explore the intricacies of pet fancies and stories within stories in the other works seen here by the same writer.
Either way, it could've used another hand to dig through its baggage, despite the many that litter the stage. 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.
Three decades ago, some street performers in Quebec started the idea for Cirque du Soleil, "circus of the sun," which combines various circus acts with spectacular costumes, strange set pieces, and theatrical lighting effects, focused through a mysterious theme for each show. There are now over a dozen Cirque shows, from Las Vegas to various touring companies, performing globally. Totem, in residence near the Motor Speedway, under a huge circus tent (or Grand Chapiteau), focuses on animal to human evolution, but with many whimsical detours, juxtaposing primitive and modern myths with fantastic acrobatic acts.
Words fail to describe a Cirque show, especially if you've never seen one. But I'll try. This one begins with a spinning silver object, hanging from above and sparkling like a dancehall mirror ball, yet descending like the symbol of a New Year's moment at Times Square. It unfolds then into a human form, posing in various sculptural ways. Below the silver ball man, in a hut made of big bones, other hominids chant in a red glowing light, like the Kachak chorus of Bali. They then turn into green amphibious creatures climbing on the bone hut.
A Native American dancer enters, with drummers, but he uses hula-hoop rings, adding one at a time up to five, twirling them around his stomping legs and turning them into wings on his arms. After his dance, the lighting changes into a beach scene, with a Roberto Benigni-like clown wearing just a bright yellow Speedo-style swimsuit, playing on some hanging rings. Then, two muscular males in swimsuits and sunglasses do Olympic-style gymnastics, while swinging on the rings. They're joined by an equally muscular female—as they flip in erotic competition, flying out over the audience.
Five Asian women replace them, in African style costumes, riding tall unicycles and balancing bowls on their heads. They flip bowls up and catch them, using their hands, heads, and one foot (while the other pedals). They're accompanied by drum beats and cymbal clashes, to the audience's increasing amazement, climaxing with a teapot catch.
Then a clown in a fishing boat loses his anchor, yet catches a big bug, after speakers around the audience make it buzz near them, too. He uses the bug on his fishing hook to catch a grocery bag, with wine and eggs. He builds a campfire on his boat and turns the bag into a bib. But the eggs become bouncing ping-pong balls that he plays with, using metal pots of various sizes, including small ones on his shoulders.
After that clown act, the video projected on the stage turns it into volcanic magma and again the silver ball man appears above. Then two women dance with spinning mats on their feet, as they balance upside-down on chairs, adding more mats until all their limbs are twirling them—even when one woman is balancing on the foot of the other. They're replaced by monkeys, a gorilla, and cavemen who follow a businessman on a cell phone and strip him of his clothes, but he fights back. And then men balance with a very tall pole: one holds it on his shoulder or, increasing the feat, on his head, while walking on another pole held by others—and with one man upside-down on top of the vertical pole.
That's just the first half of the show. Totemic objects and figures reemerge in the second, evoking the sublime forces of nature, from animal to human, from primitive to modern, and from water to earth, sky, and outer space—with aspirations of divinity in technically amazing circus feats. There's also the Italian clown as a tourist with a camera in conflict with a ringmaster in a red coat. There are aerialists lovers in canary yellow on a high flying swing, wooing and resisting each other as their bodies intertwine and hang. There's a gray-haired scientist with a chimp assistant, juggling boxes, bowls, and illuminated balls of changing colors. He becomes an experiment in a funnel with his swirling light balls, as the lab around him turns into an orchestra with beaker drums and marimba, plus test-tube flute. Then clowns play with a speedboat and water skis. Cavemen turn popcorn into a game with the audience. Two native-clad skaters dance on a drum-platform and spin together in passionate embraces. Spacemen appear on the moon, bouncing and flipping on long poles, as if in zero gravity. And the cavemen return, trying to pick up the poles, but find that their arms extend instead.
All of this becomes two and half hours of wildly free associations, parodying and yet exploring the elements of myth, ritual, evolution, science, tourism, acrobatics, passion, and bodily fantasy that are shared in the mirroring minds of the audience. Unlike a traditional circus, the seats here are not benches but soft (if narrow) chairs. The big top is climate controlled; the music is amplified (sometimes too much); and there are no animals, except for the humans in various modes of transformation. But if you enjoy circuses, or theatrical spectacles, or sharing dreams, then this show is worth seeing, and reimagining, live. 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.
How can you not like The Princess Bride? And how can you not appreciate Citizens of the Universe for taking chances, and coming up with unexpected venues. In this case it is The Breakfast Club, a bar/dance club in uptown Charlotte. As COTU has proven before, you can do theatre anywhere as long as you have actors, directors, and audience. Oh yes, and a first-rate script. William Goldman’s satirical fairy tale is a favorite of many and with good reason.
Buttercup orders around Farm Boy until she realizes that she loves him as much as he loves her. He sets off to make his fortune so they can marry, but when she learns he’s been killed, she begrudgingly agrees to marry Prince Humperdinck. There are the pirates, a giant, double-crosses, human-sized rats, and the snappy, wonderful dialogue you remember.
One drawback with such a familiar story is that the movie has been shown over and over on television. You have to try and leave comparisons behind, because on stage, in this venue, it just can’t possibly have the expensive production values, or camera tricks of a film. Yet directors James Cartee and Mimi Harkness make the most of the second floor area which has numerous openings, doorways, and levels where actors make entrances and exits.
Off to one side Grand Dad (Ted Delorme, solid as usual), and Grand Kid (Abigail Olsen, sufficiently pouty), engage in the book reading/storytelling of The Princess Bride. A nice touch is when Grand Kid has some long distance interaction with the characters. Leslie Anne Giles is perfectly cast as the pretty, feisty Buttercup. Her love Westley is played by Thorin Thompson who certainly looks the part, but the audience strains to hear him at times. This is not uncommon for those who work in film, then come to the stage. (Mr. Thompson has produced and directed a film in Charlotte recently.) Errol Sulleyman brings just the right energy to the effete Prince Humperdinck.
One of the highlights of the show is when Miracle Max (David G. Holland) and Valerie (Poppy Prittchit) revive the tortured Westley who is only mostly dead. They are over-the-top hilarious, and every bit as good as the originals, and that’s saying a lot. Joel Summer adds laugh-out-loud bits as Vizzini/The Albino/The Distinguished Clergyman. Berry Newkirk admirably stays in character with accent as the sullen Inigo Montoya out to avenge his father’s killer. Ian Fermy, Dominick Weaver, and Russell Bennet, Jr. round out the cast with their contributions to the zaniness.
Technical elements are challenging in this space, but Charles Holmes does an excellent job as fight director with the actors wielding their weapons well and in synch with each other. Suzi Hartness is also to be commended for the colorful costumes.
The acoustics are not the best, and the night of the performance was an unusually warm evening that made it somewhat uncomfortable. Yet, Citizens of the Universe is the closest thing Charlotte has to avant-garde theatre. It’s not perfect, and in its imperfections shows us why it can be so much fun to suspend your disbelief. I hope theatre fans will come out and support this production. You may find out why, with all the hard work and limited rewards, so many have an appreciation for live theatre. 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 is a member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
This is more than a tour-de-force by two of the best British actors to appear in the Charlotte region since the Royal Shakespeare Company had its multiyear residency at Davidson College. It's also a journey through Will Shakespeare's life, showing the various types of female characters he put on the stage (though played by boys in his time), reflecting viewpoints and personalities that persist today, even with the tremendous changes in women's situations in the last four centuries.
Tina Parker displays a vast range of characters, from the oppressed Kate (in The Taming of the Shrew) to Marina, the daughter who revives her father from deadly despair (in Pericles). Nigel Gore plays a variety of male characters opposite her, with as much or more enthusiasm to express textual details from the past, while embodying emotive meanings for today. Together, they demonstrate amazing energy and intelligence for two and a half hours—engaging audience members who have little knowledge of the plays, but are willing to imagine and learn, as well as those who know them well and can notice specific choices in the voices and gestures of the exemplary scenes shown.
Parker and Gore play the roles like a medley of tunes, sometimes interweaving comic and tragic scenes (such as Rosalind disguised as a boy in As You Like It, acting the role of herself while Orlando practices wooing her, along with Desdemona in Othello, being interrogated and murdered for a false accusation of adultery). But they also explain each play to set up the scenes—and sometimes, even more insightfully, tell about their experience of inhabiting the characters. With minimal, yet precise costume additions, props, lighting, and sound effects, offering mystery as well as spurring imaginative leaps, these actors create a survey of Shakespeare's writing career, illustrated in multiple dimensions. In fact, this show is an overview of five such plays that they perform at the home base for their group, Shakespeare and Company, in Lenox, Massachusetts.
Three meanings of "Women of Will" are explored: women of Shakespeare, women who demonstrate a will to power, and women whose desires develop in various ways. The audience travels from Kate and Petrucchio (with his belt around her neck), acted in several ways showing feminist viewpoints today, to Joan of Arc as saint or witch, Margaret as bloody avenger, and Elizabeth as peace bringer—the women warriors and chaste seducers of English royalty in the Henry IV plays. With the next stage of Shakespeare's career, perhaps reflecting his experience of falling in love in London, we see women discovering new identities through romance and disguise: from Juliet to Rosalind. Then we see again how women become monstrous like men, with Lady Macbeth. And then, the "maiden phoenix" is shown, arising from Shakespeare's reunion with his Stratford daughters, in the young women of his late romances, such as Marina, who bring mercy, joy, and wisdom to patriarchy.
There is an amazing chemistry between Parker and Gore throughout these many distinct pairings of women and men. They not only perform the roles with expert British training and many years of experience, but also show great intelligence, emotion, and accuracy in their study of the bard through his plays and characters. It's exhausting for the actors and the audience, identifying with the characters and traveling through Will's life. Yet it's well worth the journey, like reading an in-depth book with pop-up illustrations that come to life onstage. 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 1974 cult comedic film, Young Frankenstein, the musical of the same name comes to Charlotte this week. Following the film, perhaps too faithfully, the musical follows the exploits of Frederick Frankenstein (pronounced Frahnk-en-steen) who is left a spooky castle complete with laboratory by his dead grandfather. The movie had great success as both a homage and spoof of older horror movies and would mimic many of the classic Karloff moments almost shot for shot. The musical only seems to lampoon itself. Young Frankenstein the musical was the much anticipated follow up to the monster (sorry!) hit, The Producers. Though running a respectable total of 485 performances, Young Frankenstein wasn’t able to capture the manic intensity of its predecessor. It is charming, silly, and well meaning but never transcends its source material the way Brooks’ previous effort did. If you loved, Young Frankenstein the movie, you’ll find all of your favorite moments here to reminisce on. Unfortunately, there are no breakout musical numbers to keep you humming the next day; nor does the musical add any deeper understanding to the characters.
The performers were all top notch, though I always felt they were in the shadow of those who had come before them. Christopher Ryan is an energetic and stalwart Frederick Frankenstein. He lacks the manic insanity of Gene Wilder. Ryan’s Frederick seems more amiable and less driven. Janine Divita as Frederick’s fiancée, Elizabeth is enjoyable and over-the-top. Joanna Glushak takes on the stern taskmistress, Frau Blucher and Synthia Link is the sexy assistant, Inga. Stealing the show, hands down, is Cory English who plays Igor the man of the moveable hunch. Despite some truly remarkable work from the ensemble, I found myself comparing each scene and each moment to the moment in the film.
I never felt the musical broke free of it and became something more. There was one small moment in the play where Frederick invites Igor to sit down. Igor has brought a defective brain and Frederick wishes to chastise him. In this small moment, Christopher Ryan and Cory English fully embrace the silliness of the moment. Igor admits he has never sat down in a chair before. He proceeds (with the hilarious assistance of Ryan) to try to sit down while negotiating his hump. It is a delightful moment where the musical, if only briefly, breaks free of its birthright and walks (or sits) on its own. There is a delicate balance to achieve, of course, when adapting a beloved film into a musical,--one must be faithful to the heart of the film but create a piece of art that stands legitimately on its own feet. There are some wonderful successes such as Billy Eliot and Legally Blonde, but far too often lately, the musicals are slavishly attached to the screenplay offering the audience very few surprises and offering only nostalgia.
Not that the production doesn’t have its merits. Susan Stroman’s choreography is lavish, lush, and silly. William Ivey Long’s costumes are a delight, especially for the Transylvanian villagers. The music, though largely forgettable, has some moments. The iconic “Puttin’ on the Ritz” is hilarious. Especially seeing the very large chorus of dancers with elevated tap shoes!
Robin Wagner’s scenery harkens back to old school Broadway with painted drops and rolling wagons. These are all ingeniously used, though I kept wondering if, like the movie paid tribute to the black and white movies of the past, the production was paying tribute to theatre’s less technical past. In other words, I was never sure if I should be charmed by the flapping of the drops when actors bumped them, or should I be dismayed. I think because some elements of the design were so technically advanced, it was hard to tell. Additionally, I was sitting off to the side and spent a lot of time looking at a fully illuminated fly loft and poor masking. I could often see performers waiting to enter or wagons being prepared to roll on. I encourage those who might not have purchased their tickets yet to avoid the aisles.
I, like so many, very much wanted to love this musical. I am a huge fan of the film, and have always had a soft spot in my heart for Mel Brooks and his work. I thought The Producers the musical explored its characters more deeply and with more heart than the film on which it was based. At two-and-a-half hours the musical never really took off for me. It is relentlessly silly, loveable, and quirky, but it doesn’t have heart.
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.
The crowd-pleasing classic The Music Man comes to the Booth Playhouse by way of the talented teachers and students from Northwest School of the Arts. Though most people are familiar with the show through the movie, and perhaps seeing previous productions, it is not an easy show to mount, especially for this age group. Song-heavy, with multiple dance numbers, and a large ensemble, it must also have singers who can act, or is it actors who can sing? In any case, it takes the vision of director Corey Mitchell focusing the talents of everyone involved to make it work. And this production is a winner. It is solid from beginning to end, also providing some clever graphics and video giving it a more updated feel.
Fast-talking conniver Professor Harold Hill (Ashton Guthrie) comes to the small Iowa town of River City in the early 1900s to play out his con of creating and leading a boys’ band. He sells parents the instruments and uniforms then, as he has done numerous times before, plans to skip town with the money. At first the straight-laced townspeople snub him, but Harold is the consummate schemer and soon ingratiates himself with most in the community.
Traditional Broadway musicals incorporated songs so flawlessly that you can’t imagine them without their signature music. Here they are handled well especially the popular, “(Ya Got) Trouble,” “Seventy-Six Trombones,” “Gary, Indiana,” and “Til There Was You,” thanks to the singer/actors and musical director Matt Hinson and orchestra conductor Mark Taylor. Choreographer Eddie Mabry does a wonderful job with the dance numbers, particularly the precision needed in having so many ensemble dancers on stage. The professional-looking costumes by Barbara Wesselman are outstanding.
The cast/ensemble is uniformly excellent. Ashton Guthrie leads the cast as Harold, a likeable lout. If this part doesn’t work, neither does the production. It takes a good deal of energy and savvy to be the fast-talking music man who doesn’t know anything about music, yet sings and dances well in the show. He has a good connection with leading lady Noelle Mapstead who plays Marian Paroo the librarian who is on to him. She has a lovely operatic voice and her acting talent is evident in her character’s arc transitioning from rejecting Harold to falling in love with him. Also notable are: Colin Moore as Mayor Shinn, Bailey Hayman leading the comical Grecian dancers as Mrs. Shinn, Aubrey McGrath as Marcellus Washburn, Eli Miller as Tommy, Sadie Scott doing an impressive Irish accent as Mrs. Paroo, Sarah Moore as Amaryllis, Amy Gardiner-Parks as Gracie, Lexie Wolfe as Zaneeta, and Jordan Hardesty doing a first-rate job as Winthrop. The singing Quartet consisting of Mekhai Lee, Andrew Griner, Taylor Griner, and Jordan Medley provide well-blended harmonies that proved a hit with the audience.
The Music Man is too long, with some scenes causing a lull because of dialogue-heavy interactions, but it was written in the style of the time. The energy and exuberance of those on stage is infectious and keeps the audience involved. It is now part of Broadway lore that it took Meredith Willson, who played in John Phillip Sousa’s band, years to get The Music Man produced. So one of the most amusing aspects of the show is that Harold Hill knows nothing about music—-perhaps like the producers who rejected his story? What did they know? Mr. Willson got the last laugh, he loved music and fortunately got to share that love with his audience. Review by Ann Marie Olvia
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 member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
"Turn-about is fair play," or so we say. It's also a way of getting revenge onstage, while providing bitter insights through laughter. These On Q shows turn an embarrassing element of American theatre history inside out: from black-face caricatures in minstrelsy, a century or more ago, to white-face farce and black media parody today.
A Day of Absence, written in 1965, offers the absurd situation of "nigras" suddenly disappearing from a Southern town. The whites cannot manage their screaming babies or clean up their trash. They become helpless without the black underclass they've dominated and rested upon. The mayor develops plans and speeches, eventually appearing on TV with a direct appeal to the blacks to return. He becomes solicitous (trying to evoke fond memories of cleaning rags, shoe polish, and trashcans), paternally furious, and pathetically groveling. But nothing works—until the next day.
The townspeople and mayor (Sultan Omar El-Amin) are played here with precise hilarity by a large cast of black actors in various shades of white-face, some also with crazy blond or blue wigs. Each actor carves distinctive mannerisms and vocal tones to create the collective cartoon. The show's costumes, protest signs, and other details cross from the 19th to 20th centuries, and to our own, with eerie and outrageous echoes—especially with Mr. Klan, the mayor's rival (LeShea Stukes) saying that it's not time yet for the blacks to disappear and with the news reporter (Carlos Robson) addressing today's audience like our many talking heads on TV.
Kiss My Black Angst presents a further send up of the media, with sketch comedy skits about a black-run TV station, "KMBA," mixed with screenings of a goofy cop drama ("For Whom the Chicken Clucks"), street interviews (about Obama changing Black History Month to June), and various ads. The audience also becomes more directly involved with an initial oath to "seem to understand the deeper meaning" and with a final attempted escape by a white woman in the audience, who is confronted by the angry, Oprah-like, TV-talk-show host. There's a campaign against African babies being adopted by white Hollywood celebs. And a parody of the black artist sophisticate, played metatheatrically by On Q's founder, Quentin Talley.
Not all the pieces here successfully aroused contagious laughter in the mostly black audience. But it's a sign of maturity in Charlotte's theatre scene that such playful immaturity can appear onstage, providing absurdist comedies of manners about painful elements in our racial history—and our current media fantasies. (Full disclosure: Stacey Rose is a former theatre student of mine at UNCC.) 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.
The last American World War I veteran died this week. In the not too distant future, the same will be true of World War II veterans, and those who endured the horrors of that war, including Holocaust survivors. It’s probably safe to say that no one in the audience on opening night of And Then They Came For Me was alive during that time. So it is especially important that we listen and learn from those who lived through it.
This multimedia play incorporates video interviews with two people who were Jewish teenagers when Hitler came to power and changed the history of the world forever. Ed Silverberg and Eva Schloss’ stories are intertwined with Anne Frank because they both knew her. Ed at sixteen was Anne’s potential boyfriend and first love, and Eva was her friend. In fact, after the war, Eva’s mother married Anne’s father Otto Frank. Yet Anne Frank, in this production, is a mainly ghostly presence. Her diaries are mentioned and she has scenes with other characters, but this is not her story, and the power of her name is invoked more in sorrow for the lost writer and person she might have become.
Four actors play multiple roles: Nicia Carla, Emily Johnson, Barry Newkirk and Chaz Pofahl. This is a strong ensemble with obvious commitment to this production as Ms. Carla shows in immersing herself in her role in a gesture of solidarity with her character. I’ve admired this quality about her in other shows as well. She is not afraid to look silly, less than glamorous, or even awful if it forwards the story. She plays young Eva as well as Ed’s mother. Chaz Pofahl brings a believable, likeable quality of his own to Young Ed, who courts Anne respectfully, but has the courage to escape the Nazi’s during a couple of close calls. Emily Johnson, in her first appearance at Children’s Theatre, plays Anne with an appealing girlish innocence. Barry Newkirk plays multiple roles as well and one who is the most disliked in the show. He opens the play as someone from the Hitler Youth. In an astute bit of casting by director Mark Sutton, Mr. Newkirk does not portray him as the over-sized, overbearing blonde physical specimen we usually see. This Nazi is earnest and totally committed, making him all the more frightening. When he does the Nazi salute it is chilling.
Kudos to director Sutton for guiding his actors and this production flawlessly. The technical staff has done an excellent job, and even with video/slides/music/multiple costume changes/moving props the show flows smoothly. The lighting by Eric Winkerwerder especially helps evoke changes in mood, time, and place. Also to be commended is the stark scenic design by Kimberly Cox, costume design by Courtney Burt Scott, properties design by Peter Smeal, and sound by Jamie Bullard. Excellent video work by Gary Sivak with the interviews, as well as other slides and images, adds significantly to the overall effect of the production.
The talkback after the show included moderator Stephanie Wood with Holocaust survivors Susan Spatz and Barbara Rodbell. Ms. Spatz, a longtime Charlotte resident, continues to travel and lecture about the Holocaust. Both women told their stories much as Ed and Eva, but the impact of having them in person to answer questions had the audience in awe. When a girl commented that they are heroes, Ms. Spatz said no, but the audience clearly felt they both are indeed heroes. Ms. Spatz is no-nonsense and not at all sentimental. Her mission is very focused in wanting people to not forget what happened and spoke about this directly to young people in the audience. Ms. Rodbell has a softer, more conciliatory approach. When asked how she kept from being bitter about her experiences she said she never hated anyone who caused this to happen. Now that is almost unbelievable generosity of spirit!
This moving play has been performed since the late 1990s, and because of its subject matter and structure, is one that young audiences and adults will respond to. It is well worth your time, and delivers an experience you won’t forget.
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 member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
Are there ghosts in your family's history? Whether you're black, white, or another ethnic background, this play will haunt you. It's a powerful, painful, and profound exploration of a particular man's ancestors, in slavery and afterward—how their chains continue to bind him today, despite his success as a math professor and published author.
A lonely black man (played by Brian Daye) sits in his study with a polished wooden floor, soft leather chair, and many books on the shelves. He tells the audience that his white wife recently left him, after he decided not to join the Million Man March. A younger black man (Jeremy DeCarlos) appears on the other side of the stage, on a rough wooden floor, but with doors hanging in the background connecting the two areas (through the simple, yet poetic set design of director Chip Decker). DeCarlos gives an amazing performance as he transforms his voice, face, and body into many characters—eruptions of a recently deceased brother and ancestral slave figures in the modern man's mind.
For most of this 90-minute play, the two speak only to the audience, or create multiple characters in their separate areas. Lewis, the math professor, is imagining the audience, too, in his loneliness and with his vexed identity as an assimilated black man. He'd prefer to relate only to them, but the ghosts keep interrupting.
Rex, who died from a drug overdose, taunts his brother about not being free, despite his academic success, and about the white gaze of his preferred audience. Rex crosses between the ancestral and modern areas of the stage, as a trickster figure (like a West African god, the orisha Eshu), provoking Lewis and his audience to be more aware of the tragic suffering in their heritage. Gradually, we see and hear more stories from the other side of the stage, presented by Lewis's grandfather Jesse and his great-grandfather Simon.
While still a slave, Simon is taught math and literacy as a child but his tutor molests him. After becoming a free man, Simon offers to paint the "Whites Only" sign for a preacher's church, but then gets put in jail for 13 years, when he's caught sleeping there. Jesse suffers also, despite his freedom; he's castrated, burned, and lynched when he defies white threats and tries to vote. These representative depictions of post-slavery tragedies in the South connect with the climax of Lewis's inner conflict. Rex provokes him to remember their father's rage when Lewis brought home failing grades—and the father's failure to appreciate Lewis's adult achievements in a white-dominated world.
Lewis tries to block his own emotions, regarding such ghosts, by focusing on the purity and universality of his mathematical knowledge, and how it refigures time. Yet despite such evasions, he eventually learns, through his ancestors' wisdom, to paint a "blue door," mediating the spirits and filtering their legacy toward a better, cathartic awareness.
The ghosts presented here, based in our region's history, make this a difficult show to watch—though its blues songs help to soothe the wounds. Even more significantly, the blue door it creates at the stage edge provides a valuable opening for vexed memories, family stories, further discussions, and inner meetings with various spirits—for those who dare to open it and watch this show. 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.
If the rhythms of Djembe Fire! don’t get you going, you need to check your pulse. Djembe is a type of drum, and this colorful, energetic ensemble brings the joy of beats and movement to the McColl Theatre for an all too short run.
There is no program so I can’t acknowledge the individual performers who are all terrific. Four men play the drums most of the time, with women doing most of the dancing. All sing at various times. The Shabu family appears to be the leaders of the production with younger drummer/dancer Taji being very popular with the kids in the audience.
Though geared toward younger children, this can be a great learning experience for all. With my own limited knowledge I found the show difficult to follow at times. Although West Africa is mentioned, I’m not sure if all the dances and stories are from that area.
Exuberance and joy of movement are the main feelings transmitted to the audience, but a more reflective mood is presented by an elder who talks about the “jeli” or musicians that preserve the stories in songs passed down from generation to generation from the beginning of time. Profound in its simplicity, the message is one of hope that we can all live in peace and love. The most charming segment occurred when two groups of audience members were chosen to go on stage and follow the dancers. Some of our Charlotte folk are surprisingly limber!
I wish the show had been longer, but it is a lovely experience and is rewarding if you can make it there. To the African Drum and Dance Ensemble I can only say asante (the Swahili word we learned for thank you)!
To educate yourself more about this wonderful company and African drum/dance culture you can go to the Children’s Theatre of Charlotte Performance Guide:
READ MORE HERE .....about African Drum and Dance Ensemble
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 member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
MOMIX is a well-described company of “dancer-illusionists” who present stunning post-modern dance theatre in a style reminiscent of Mummenschanz and especially Pilobolus. The latter is not surprising in that MOMIX’s founder and artistic director is Moses Pendleton, who also was a co-founder of Pilobolus in the 1970’s.
MOMIX builds its own brand of performance art on the dance forms inherent in this style (physical transformations, acrobatic elasticity), and expands it with extraordinary multimedia that includes creative lighting, projection, and video feed, as well as props and costume elements that become movement characters in their own right. The company refracts reality through clever and inventive visual imagery that is reminiscent of known forms, yet slightly altered and often tongue-in-cheek. It is that playful and often whimsical element that makes the creation a joy to behold and seemingly to perform, as judged by the sheer exuberance of the dancers.
Botanica follows a loosely conceptual line cataloguing the explosion of life and life forms, both flora and fauna. Forms ebb, flow, evolve, and devolve, ostensibly in accord with the seasons and more elongated global cycles. The dances curve around interesting musical forms as well, largely with New Age and various world beats, but also incorporating the sounds of nature itself. Some pieces, especially those depicting birds and bird-like beings, are reminiscent of tribal dances that instruct us in the wisdom of those beings, but which can also quickly morph into other creatures with different secret knowledge. MOMIX’s performances can also instruct, but importantly, they are vastly entertaining and beautiful.
The “how” of what they do is certainly intellectually challenging, but the real value of the work is in its perceptual and non-linear qualities. This is not dance to be over-thought, and the immediacy and visual trickster quality of the work may in fact especially lend itself to children’s imaginations, as they are untrammeled by rational demands. There are many small gems studding the overall work, and among them are the appearance of a triceratops skeleton that functions as a magical steed, gauzy wings that harness light and air, a magical headdress that orbits the dancer in shifting planes, and a field of golden trees that thrusts and parries across the stage.
MOMIX: Botanica offers dance performance by witty provocateurs whose 21st century bag of tricks ironically allows them to touch the oldest, even unconscious chords of recognition in our being. This is enchantment indeed. Review by Elizabeth Peterson-Vita
Elizabeth Peterson-Vita, Ph.D., is co-founder and Creative Director of Actors Scene Unseen. She is a clinical psychologist and award-winning theatre director with parallel interests in world history and mythology. Elizabeth has directed numerous Actors Scene Unseen stage and audio CD productions, including The Turn of the Screw, The Fifth Sun, Gilgamesh - A Verse Play, Nijinsky's Last Dance, Slaughterhouse-Five, and A Broadway Christmas Carol. She is also an actor, writer, and freelance film and theatre reviewer.
A refreshing taste of “salsa-fied” Broadway is on hand at The Belk Theater, courtesy of In the Heights, the Tony-recognized musical currently on national tour and part of The Broadway Lights Series. The conceptual and musical brainchild of Lin-Manuel Miranda, (who also starred in the original New York production as the irrepressible Usnavi), this show blends Latin Caribbean beats and hip-hop with more traditional Broadway stylings, wrapped around a familiar story of the immigrant experience. In fact, the very description of the show in its advertising gives the most succinct description of its story core: “about home, family and finding where you belong”.
There have been many shows following a similar pattern over several generations; this one chooses the 21st-century Latino experience in New York City, where the “Latins from Manhattan” concentrate their lives and loves (romantic and otherwise) in the northern Manhattan neighborhood of Washington Heights. In their journey, some scale the heights, some fall from the heights, and all learn to re-evaluate the personal meaning of those heights. There is of course a universality in this theme, with the unique dimensions of what it takes to be an American wrapped up in a storyline that arcs over the course of a July 4th weekend, illuminated by external and internal fireworks.
We follow the trials and tribulations of young bodega owner Usnavi (whose name is one of the comic punch lines of the second act), played earnestly and with a sense of sly fun by Joseph Morales. Aided by his fast-talking younger cousin Sonny (Chris Chatman), Usnavi has one foot in the barrio while dreaming of a fantasized good life in the Dominican Republic. He also dares to dream of romance with Vanessa (Lexi Lawson), who in turn dreams mostly of getting out of the grinding life of uptown and into the good life of downtown. Their lives intersect with the other great entrepreneurs of the neighborhood, Puerto Rican gypsy cab owners Kevin (Danny Bolero) and his wife Camila (Natalie Toro), who have struggled to send their cherished daughter Nina (Genny Lis Padilla) to Stanford University, whose lofty spires have threatened to crush the whole family’s dreams. Their employee Benny (Nicholas Christopher) is a young African-American man who is like a son to them, until romance with their daughter looms and cultural roots trump other loyalties.
The glue of the neighborhood is Abuela Claudia (Elise Santora), everyone’s beloved grandmother figure who hopes winning the lottery will materially fund the prayers she has for the young people’s success. The plot of these interchanges moves forward predictably, with melodrama punctuated by scenes of comic relief, heading towards the inevitable climax that is deeply rooted in Broadway musical expectations.
The pacing accelerates over the course of the show, undoubtedly aided by the infectious score as delivered by the band conducted by Justin Mendoza. Morales’ lead is ably served by the ensemble cast, with especially strong performances by Lawson and Santora. Vocal cameos by David Baida as the Piragua Guy are also a sweet treat. The lyrics, especially those that are rapped, are clever and make great use of Spanglish in places to reflect cultural cross-over. If anything, purists might enjoy more ethnically-flavored dialogue and vocal delivery. There is also a strong Latin and urban dance/movement element, and the rhythms are bold enough to get anyone ready to dance (or at least contemplate it).
The show’s technical elements also deserve a special nod. The unit set is well-imagined and executed, and truly captures the feeling of Washington Heights, its storefronts and fire-escaped apartments, its textured hilly landscape, and its anchor point of the 181st St. subway station. The backdrop of the George Washington Bridge, leading away to yearnings for mainstream America, is a perfect foil for the action, and the lighting design is particularly effective in the play’s compressed time capsule and literal fireworks.
In the Heights is an embraceable ambassador of the “new” Broadway, maintaining a largely sunny disposition that is missing from more edgy modern musicals. In that respect, it is much like the café con leche that fuels its characters: it’s got the heat, it’s got the sweet, and it plays to the heart with a true Latin beat. Review by Elizabeth Peterson-Vita
Elizabeth Peterson-Vita, Ph.D., is co-founder and Creative Director of Actors Scene Unseen. She is a clinical psychologist and award-winning theatre director with parallel interests in world history and mythology. Elizabeth has directed numerous Actors Scene Unseen stage and audio CD productions, including The Turn of the Screw, Gilgamesh - A Verse Play, Nijinsky's Last Dance, Slaughterhouse-Five, and the American premiere of Jack - the Musical, The Ripper Pursued. She is also an actor, writer, and freelance film and theatre reviewer.
"Serial killers" used to be our deepest social fear, stirred by the news media in the 1970s, when this musical was first staged, and in later decades—until "terrorists" took over. But Sondheim and his co-creators transformed an 1847 stage melodrama, The String of Pearls, by George Dibdin Pitt, to make its monstrous killer into a complex, sympathetic anti-hero, with vicious yet compelling songs and acts. A Tim Burton movie was recently made of this musical, with Johnny Depp as Sweeney. Yet, the more choral stage version, currently at CPCC, may strike other notes in this city, as a banking capital, showing us the "Demon Barber of Fleet Street" and the spread of his righteous evil through the guts of others.
London's Fleet Street is known now as the center of British news media, like Tryon is the locus of capital in Charlotte. But the backdrop on the CPCC stage (and its lighting design by Rick Moll) beautifully shows the smog-choked industrial rooftops, which are the dark roots of today's gleaming skyscrapers. The scene design by James Duke and Rebecca Primm also involves detailed depictions of Mrs. Lovett's Pie Shop, which must turn onstage to reveal its eventual source of meat—from Mr. Todd's Barber Shop above, through a clever device, to the meat grinder and oven below.
At the start of the show, before such capital developments, Sweeney arrives on a small boat onstage (like the phantom in another famous musical). Steven Jepson plays Sweeney as a weary, gaunt, former convict from Australia, returning to London, where his nemesis, Judge Turpin (Kevin Roberge), has adopted and soon starts courting the daughter that Sweeney was forced to leave behind. But Jepson also reveals a powerful rage in Sweeney, especially in his songs about the world as a "pit" with people who inhabit it full of ... (you can guess it)—and what he will do to them, after he misses his chance with the Judge.
The strongest songs are the duets between Jepson and Roberge, about admiring "pretty women," while Sweeney is giving the judge a clean shave and enjoying his vengeance too much (twice). Erik D'Esterre adds impressive tones as Anthony Hope, the young sailor who becomes a better love interest for Sweeney's daughter, Johanna (Sara Reinecke). But also keep your eye on the Beggar Woman (Lisa Smith Bradley), since the plot twists her into a much more significant voice and figure than she initially appears to be.
The show lurches at times, with its complex set pieces, cascading music, and intermixed lyrics. (Particularly problematic is the use of a delayed shadow play behind a screen for Fogg's Asylum, which dulls the bite of that scene. The Judge's self-flagellation and Mrs. Lovett's wooing of Sweeney are also too simply played.) Yet this production hits its stride in the most memorable songs—especially with the dead rising from the stage at the end. They join the chorus to remind us about the meat of the matter in today's often screened, plastic-wrapped, and Third World polluting consumerism: a "hungry god" that we still worship, even if we're blind to it. 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.
The Tarradiddle Players may be the hardest working actors from Charlotte. Yes, from Charlotte because they travel so much of the year presenting children’s plays. This production of If You Take a Mouse to School has some particularly clever physical comedy touches thanks to director Nicia Carla.
Part of the popular “If You Take a Mouse...” series by Laura Numeroff, it’s a fun excursion into fantasy for the youngest theatre goers, who know what school and a best friend are even if they are not quite there yet.
Rambunctious Mouse (energetically played by Leslie Ann Giles thankfully avoiding the temptation of a grating squeaky voice), wants to go everywhere with Boy (a charmingly boyish Salvador Garcia), and that includes to school. Okay, so you know that means trouble, right? This is the day that the Boy gets his progress report, and he must maintain his good behavior to get a super duper reward from his parents. (It may sound like bribery—-be good and I’ll buy you something, but then, when we do good work don’t we get rewarded with a pay check or something of intrinsic value?) Mouse gets into all kinds of trouble at school causing Boy to run after him so as not to create havoc.
Darlene Parker and Stephen Seay, the other two actors that complete the Tarradiddle Players, expertly fill multiple roles like Mom and Coach. Also notable is the scenic design by Tim Parati, costumes by Courtney Scott, properties by Peter Smeal, lighting by Eric Winkenwerder, and sound by Van Coble, Jr.
The talkback with the audience of parents and kids after opening night was instructive in that children’s imaginations are open to accepting fantasy, but then can come right back to reality. One logical boy asked why Mouse’s mother (Darlene Parker) didn’t have a tail like Mouse. You can’t get much past this crowd!
If You Take A Mouse To School is fun for the entire family, and it’s selling out quickly. 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 member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
Is it possible to forgive a man who has kidnapped, abused, and killed seven little girls over two decades? Should the mother of one of those girls forgive him in order to move on in her life? These are the vexed questions that Lavery's Frozen and the Warehouse artists bravely depict.
The minimal set represents the metaphorical journey of this play into an icy cave: dark platforms (with a few tables and chairs for the mother's home, a prison cell, or an airplane seat) and a blue-white wall, with setting by Don Cook and painting by Divina Cook. The play starts with isolated monologs, showing the alienation of three characters, each needing an audience to provide self-understanding. Lavery's play challenges its audience to sympathize with an American psychiatrist, Dr. Agnetha (Annette Saunders), who travels to England to research and speak publicly about a certain serial killer, Ralph (John Cunningham), with a British mother, Nancy (Anne Lambert), whose daughter was abducted and killed by him, and even with that killer himself.
The actors might have benefitted from better vocal coaching—in handling the diverse accents. They also struggle to win over the audience through their monologs, before interacting more dramatically. But once Dr. Agnetha begins to interview Ralph and demonstrates to the audience that he suffers from brain damage due to being abused as a child, both actors come into form. The mother, on the other side of the stage, keeps her daughter's room exactly the same for 10 years, believing that her daughter will return, until she learns the body has been found, not far from her home. She describes meeting with the mortician to touch the bones. And then, she is gradually drawn into meeting with Ralph, too, though the psychiatrist argues against it. Her forgiveness of him, ironically, gives her revenge, making him feel remorse for the first time and causing the psychopath to suffer a mortal wound.
The psychiatrist, like the mother and the killer, bears a heavy guilt and personal trauma. Her research partner, David, recently died in a car accident, shortly after she slept with him, despite being friends with his wife. So she moves between extremes of emotion (portrayed well by Saunders's expressive face): comical frustration at not getting more to drink on her airline flight, desperate loneliness in doing research without her partner, professional confidence in speaking to her audience and the killer, and yet nervousness, almost to the point of breakdown, at other times. The frozen mind of Ralph also breaks at times, inducing sympathy from his audience, as he recalls his temptations, shows his tattoos, and becomes a prop used by Dr. Agnetha to demonstrate the painful symptoms of his brain disorder. Or is he slyly charming her and the audience—to become significant and get an excuse for his crimes—like he lured little girls into his perverse world?
This complex play considers events over a 20 year time span, demanding extensive participation by viewers' imaginations. Yet, it deserves to be seen by mature audiences who, like the Warehouse artists, bravely want to consider the slippery ice and deep caverns of the human mind, the criminal threats that exist in our world, and the problem of "restorative justice" or condemnation for those who take advantage of innocent children, repeating and extending the cruel losses in their own 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.
Before attending the production, ELLA, I didn't know much about the noted First Lady of Song, Ella Fitzgerald. I knew she was a black songstress who looked like everyone's homely grandmother, but I knew nothing about her life and her legacy. This play told the intimate, behind-the-scenes details that you won't learn by just listening to her angelic voice.
The time was 1966 and Ella, played by Tina Fabrique, was preparing for one of the biggest performances of her life in Nice, France. Her longtime manager, Norman, played by Harold Dixon, was pressuring her to decide on which number to cut from her show, to have time to 'patter' with the audience a bit. After she and Norman disagreed on this idea, the band took a dinner break, and as usual, Ella seemed to order extra comfort food. This led Ella to reminisce about the days when her nickname was 'Snake Hips' due to the seductive dancing skills she displayed outside of the local bordello in Yonkers, NY. Over the years her growing waistline would prevent her from getting the same attention as she commanded as a slim teenager. During her younger years, dancing, her first love, eventually took a backseat when she decided to enter a contest but was intimidated by a local dance duo. She decided to showcase her voice instead and won the opportunity to join 'Amateur Night' at the famous yet infamous Apollo Theatre at the age of 17.
The next year, Ella remembers winning the chance to perform at The Harlem Opera House where she noticed a miniature man sitting in the audience after a show. The man in the audience loved her voice, but unfortunately was hesitant to approach her due to her less than stellar looks. This man was none other than Chick Webb, a drummer and bandleader with whom Ella began performing until his death in 1939.
Throughout the years, Ella always longed for a permanent man in her lonely life, but was constantly reminded of how unattractive she was. Her first husband, of only two years, was a local drug dealer and dockworker. Her second husband was a fellow musician whom she met while touring with Dizzy Gillespie's band. After realizing they could not conceive, Ella and her husband adopted her newborn nephew and raised him as her own. The excitement of motherhood was short-lived once Ella and her husband began touring again, separately. A nanny was hired and soon took Ella's place as mother to her young son. However, guilt didn't stop the jazz singer from traveling the world during most of her child's life, and being heralded for decades to come.
This musical was bittersweet in subject matter and performance. While Tina Fabrique's voice was that of a seasoned angel, her acting skills and that of her band were not as angelic. A band member who performed a quick rendition of Louie Armstrong and Ella performing 'Let's Call the Whole Thing Off' was a scene-stealer and roused massive applause in the second act. Other than this moment, the musical was quite bland. Ella Fitzgerald's life seemed to be a subtle rollercoaster with her battle of self image, love, and family values, and Fabrique attempted to display this by injecting moments of emotion. Unfortunately it was lacking believability and fell short to hold my full attention.
If you just love Ella, jazz and the Big Band sound, this performance will satisfy your musical appetite. If not, it will at least give you a history lesson on one of the most famous female singers of Swing. 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 work has appeared in Uptown Magazine and enjoys reviewing theater productions, movies, and loves most things artistic.
Psychopaths are never more dangerous than when they have nothing to lose. Such is the case of playwright Mark Medoff’s Teddy (JR Jones) the malevolent Vietnam Veteran in When You Comin’ Back, Red Ryder. Mr. Medoff is more well-known for his award winning play and movie Children of a Lesser God, but Red Ryder now at CAST, though not perfect, is a little gem. Written well over thirty years ago there is a familiar trajectory to it---sneering bully holds people hostage in an isolated, sleepy diner. If the play was written today it would have had to have ever more shock effect, though there is some shock value in it, especially for its time.
What ultimately makes the play work is director Charles LaBorde’s attention to detail and character development with his cast, and they in turn going “all in” on creating believable human beings. Teddy and hippie chick Cheryl (Karina Roberts-Caporino) stop at the diner because they need car repairs. Teddy sizes up the situation immediately. These people are vulnerable. No one is going to be able to challenge him. He proceeds to taunt, expose, humiliate, and threaten all those unlucky enough to be there on a Sunday morning.
Angel (Amy Wada) is the timid counter girl who doesn’t have a life outside the diner and a big crush on Stephen (Sam Crawford). He’s a hero wanna-be who asks to be called Red after the Red Ryder comic strip cowboy character which created radio programs, product tie-ins, television and movies in the 1930s-1960s. Sam has fantasies of being tough even having a tattoo on his arm that says “born dead” and of leaving Foster’s Diner but has been stuck working the night shift there. An upscale couple, Richard (JR Adduci) and Clarisse (Kathleen Taylor) stop in for breakfast carrying their self-anointed superiority with them. Lyle (John Xenakis), the mild-mannered limping gas station owner from across the way rounds out the customers.
Once Teddy sets up Lyle to take care of his car problem he decides to have a little shame game with those in the diner while he waits. Though Teddy is in Army fatigues, Vietnam is mentioned only once, and that is a good decision. Just as the hell that is war brings out heroic qualities in some, it also can exaggerate damage in others. We don’t know anything about Teddy’s background except to surmise that going to war he may have been a lost cause of a human being already. He terrorizes all of them as they become his pawns even directing their words, actions and interactions with each other. As a true psychopath he can see through their defenses right to their weaknesses.
The cast is uniformly first-rate with JR Jones outstanding. There could have been the temptation to go over the top with Teddy, but Mr. Jones is in control at all times. That makes his character all the more powerful and frightening. Sam Crawford shows real talent with a difficult character like Stephen---too sniveling and the audience would resent him, too defiant and he would not be real. John Xenakis’ Lyle tries to bring calm conciliation and common sense to the situation while maintaining his dignity which is totally lost on Teddy. Kathleen Taylor’s performance as Clarisse is complex and brave. JR Adduci is also excellent as Clarisse’s ineffectual husband. Amy Wada’s Angel is the most sympathetic character because she is the least able to defend herself. Buddy Hanson does well as the no nonsense diner owner Clark who appears at the beginning and end of the play having little idea what a traumatic experience it has been for those involved.
Karina Roberts-Caporino plays Cheryl who is traveling with Teddy. She has little dialogue in the play, and it makes one wonder if the intent is initially for her to appear to be a drugged out opportunist servicing Teddy and drifting along in exchange for an anesthetizing existence. To her credit she resists this stereotype, but then the character makes a choice at the end of the play that doesn’t seemed earned because we know so little about her.
CAST is known for their creative sets and this one of a diner is no exception; the set design by Buddy Hanson and Charles LaBorde is terrific. When You Comin’ Back Red Ryder is well worth braving any cold weather to see. 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 member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
Can we learn anything from celebrity writings? Well, for one thing celebrities are as obsessed with themselves as we are with them---and they are often unintentionally funny. The audience hears the musings of people like: Mr. T, Ivana Trump, David Hasselhoff, Diana Ross, Motley Crue drummer Tommy Lee and his former wife Pamela Anderson among others. Now it’s true the passages selected are the ones that have the most potential for poking fun at the writers, but I was relieved there were no cringe-inducing mean-spirited moments. At times the language is racy, though nothing outside of today’s more relaxed standards. Whatever celebrities do or say is scrutinized to the nth degree and they know that going in, especially when writing about their private lives.
The audience is guaranteed the celebrities did all the writing, but I don’t think they quite had this outcome in mind. It must have seemed to them like a good idea to write down their thoughts, yet perhaps the editors didn’t want to challenge them, or thought their writings were quaint, or the stars wouldn’t consider changing any of their words. Whatever the reason, the talented cast on stage gives the audience a humorous earful of people who are thoroughly impressed with their own importance, or are trying to justify their behavior.
Some of the highlights include Suzanne Somers “poetry,” Kenny Loggins amorous sappy pleadings to a girlfriend, Burt Reynolds and Lonnie Anderson’s he said/she said dueling scenarios, Britney Spears diary, and Neil Sedaka’s detailed dietary history.
Creator of the show Eugene Pack leads off the readings/introductions with contributions by Tom Booker, Cady Huffman, Dayle Reyfel, Christopher Sieber, and Charlotte’s own Mike Collins and Brittney Cason, who do a nice job throwing in with the pros. As the comedian/actors warm up and start acting out with physical manifestations, the passages get even funnier.
I’ve come to really appreciate the shows that come through Charlotte performed in smaller venues. You can see close-up the skills of those on stage and how hard-working they are for the audience’s benefit. Celebrity Autobiography is one of those shows that is entertaining and fun---no deep thoughts, no world peace, just quotes from audacious celebrities who unknowingly gave us TMI, too-much-information.
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 member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
Pirates have been good for Children’s Theatre of Charlotte from the excellent Treasure Island last season to the delightful How I Became a Pirate now playing at the McColl Family Theatre. The play has expanded and embellished Jeremy Jacobs’ (Sam Faulkner) adventure with a ragtag group of comic bumbling pirates.
Director Ron Chisholm’s imaginative touches and choreography are excellent complements to the musical numbers ably handled by music director Drina Keen and musicians Pat Cray, John Shaughnessy, and Matt Curl. When the crew sings the music doesn’t overpower the lyrics even as they have definite speech patterns, especially their aaaaaarrrrrrrghs.
Jeremy is minding his own business digging in the sand when Braid Beard (Jeremy Kinser) and his band of clumsy pirates happen upon him and decide he’ll make a good addition to their ranks. Jeremy happily joins them, and so the adventure begins as he must learn about their lot: facts like, “...they have green teeth—when they have any at all.” No one is forced to eat vegetables, but there are no bedtime stories either. These are not frightening pirates, and the only scary moment is a storm that tosses them around. Jeremy in turn teaches them to play soccer.
The capable cast individualizes their characters from Barbi Van Schaick’s lovable lady pirate Milt Skeeter who has a penchant for show tunes to James Dracy’s grumpy Stubby Barbossa and his hook. Also on board are Josh Looney’s French-accented Jacque LaToe, and Chaz Pofahl’s slacker pirate Wheezing Stephen McGee. Jeremy Kinser gives a fine performance as the captain who takes a shine to the newcomer. Sam Faulkner as Jeremy is not only a good singer, but very natural on stage. It’s important to have young actors in roles like this at a children’s theatre and I applaud the director's choice.
The “ship” by scenic designer Anna Sartin is a wonderful centerpiece of the show. What a fun set for the cast and audience alike. The colorful costumes by Jennifer Matthews are inspired by the book illustrations of David Shannon. Kudos as well to properties designer Peter Smeal for added amusing bits of whimsy.
Of course, none of this would have been possible without the creation of Jeremy Jacobs by author Melinda Long who was in attendance on opening night. It’s encouraging to see the work of talented local artists on Charlotte stages. I can’t imagine Ms. Long is anything but proud of this delightful production. 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 member of the Dramatists Guild of America.
Queen City Theatre Company follows up on the enormously successful productions of Sordid Lives with another play by author Del Shores. Like Sordid Lives, the play focuses on the eccentricities of a cast of southerners, but unlike that production, this play is surprisingly dark and eventually transforms from comedy to tragedy. Southern Baptist Sissies takes a piercing look into the effects of a Southern Baptist upbringing on the lives of four gay teens. That the play is so often protested by certain religious organizations can come as a surprise to no one—-this play, and this production, pulls no punches. Each of the characters struggles to reconcile the fact that he is gay and that God will not love him if he is.
In this time where young men and women are under such terrible pressures when identifying themselves as being outside the normal spectrum of sexuality that they choose to end their lives rather than put up with the hatred of others and often with the hatred they feel towards themselves; Del Shores’ play does a nice job of articulating the problem. These four men struggle just as much with the perception they have of themselves as they do with the perception and prejudices of others.
Queen City’s production manages to convey the sincerity of this conflict while carving out a few laughs here and there. The play itself is almost epic in length. Running over two hours, each character and conflict is explored in depth, sometimes to the detriment of pacing. Director Glenn T. Griffin does a superb job of keeping the play moving, even when the text fights against this.
Kristian Wedolowski’s simple collection of stark white church pews and an enormous white cross that hangs over each and every scene acts as setting throughout. The church is always present whether we are in a bedroom or a gay bar.
Jeff Capell’s wigs are amazing. A bad wig can ruin a show, and there are no bad wigs here.
The young men are well played. We see them from prepubescent youths into young adulthood. Berry Newkirk plays Mark, a tortured writer who thinks too much and too deeply. He is the narrator and conscience of this play. Newkirk is appropriately acerbic and bitter, but still finds some moments of joy. Considering he is always on stage, he has surprising focus. Justin Younts plays T.J. Brooks, the self-hating gay. Younts inhabits the role admirably. Resisting the urge to make the character a villain,
Younts shows his struggle to be faithful to his god and to his heart. Fair warning, both Younts and Newkirk appear nude on stage for a few moments. Josh Bistromowitz plays Andrew, a young man who is sneaking out to gay bars at night and worrying his mother who has found all of her Sears catalogues in his bedroom with the male underwear sections dog-eared. Bistromowitz does a nice job of affecting the innocence of youth and his slow ascent into manhood. Steven Martin gives a surprising turn as Benny who later becomes the drag country star Iona Traylor. Martin is always a delight, but his turn as the always positive Traylor who refuses to look at the darker side of things provides some much needed lift to a very heavy show. He is most successful when interacting with Berry Newkirk’s Mark—-providing counterpoint to Mark’s obsessive need to see the darker side of everything... Some of the lip-synching numbers seemed, well, out of synch. Still, kudos to anyone who can walk in those heels!
Other cast members include Polly Adkins who plays all of the mothers. Shores is less interested in exploring the lives of the straight characters in the play. They are often reduced to stereotypes, but Griffin and his cast do what they can. Adkins adds as much depth as possible to the small moments she has with her boys. Each mother struggles with what she sees in her son. Beau Stroupe plays the iconic Southern Baptist preacher, but he does manage to add some genuine warmth to the role. It would be too easy to play this over-the-top, and Stroupe resists this nicely.
The true standouts in the play are Hank West and Amanda Lillies. West plays the lonely Preston “Peanut” Leroy who will always be alone. Lillies is Odette Annette Barnett, a barfly who haunts gay bars in search of redemption. The two sit at a table and hold court over a variety of topics including what is means to be white trash and who is better at oral sex. That both West and Lillies are able to straddle the disparate needs Shores is demanding (the comic and the tragic) so successfully is a testament to their talent.
Del Shores’ play is a vehement attack against institutions that create a “no win” situation for gay youth. Even the most liberal audience might be challenged by some of the language and imagery used throughout. Again, no one is pulling any punches here. Shores has no problem with lampooning the sacred.
Southern Baptist Sissies is a diamond in the rough. There are so many beautiful moments throughout. I was close to tears more than once in the second act, and laughed out loud often. The play is easily twenty minutes longer than it needs to be. Many of the truly wonderful moments are cheapened by two additional scenes that drive a point home that we had already come to. Shores’ script is in dire need of trimming. It is clear he loves his characters and wants them to have their say, but repetition has never been the soul of wit. Additionally, whereas Sordid Lives worked brilliantly at satire, Sissies often struggles to decide whether it is farce or drama.
Despite all of this, I had a great time. When I can laugh and cry at the same show, I consider it a success. As an educator in the theatre, I am sensitive to the struggles my students go through (gay and straight alike) just to figure out who they are. It’s important that we all take the final moments of this play to heart. I won’t spoil it here, but the ending is worth the wait. 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
Every great once in a while a musical comes along that reaches right into the hearts of audience members. Billy Elliot The Musical is so beautifully rendered in its seamless integration of story, song, and dance, that it is sure to be one for the ages. Unlike fluff for fluff’s sake Billy Elliot is both cultural commentary and art.
Set against the backdrop of the 1984-85 coal miner’s strike in County Durham in North East England, the Elliot family fights to survive mentally and physically. When the miners strike, Dad (Rich Hebert) is still tied to an old way of life and old ideas. His older son Tony (Jeff Kready), also a miner, is even more militant than his father. Grandma (Patti Perkins) is losing it and must be looked after. Younger son Billy (played during this performance by Giuseppe Bausilio) is 12 and dealing with the loss of his beloved Mum (Beverly Ward) who appears to him at crucial moments.
Though there is obviously much love in the family, Dad’s fears for them keep him holding on with a tight grip, believing that as head of the household he is doing what is best. He imposes his will on them like it or not. In some ways this is a familiar, age-old story: every man wants his father’s approval, yet how many feel they ever get it? Billy is a sensitive sort, unlike his gruff father, and more like his mother as we see in their scenes together. Dad thinks he needs to make his son tough to survive in a tough world. He sends him for boxing lessons which Billy dislikes, but finds himself instead in Mrs. Wilkinson’s (Faith Prince) dancing class trying to give her a set of keys. She gets him moving around with a delightful set of girls in tutus.
Billy is not aware of what ballet dancing is at this point, but as a natural dancer he “feels the music” and moves with athleticism and grace. Perhaps you may dispute if someone can be taught the necessary technical elements that turn one into an exceptional artist. But Billy Elliot seems to imply that, in terms of dancing anyway, either you have a genius for it or you don’t. Billy’s Grandma touchingly recalls how she and her husband, mismatched in almost every way, used to have their only few moments of happiness dancing together in “We’d Go Dancing.” When Dad discovers Billy’s dancing lessons he orders him to stop, but Billy defies him and continues to work with Mrs. Wilkinson. An audition with the Royal Ballet School is missed when Dad finds out what's been going on and a dejected Billy leaves dance behind altogether.
As the strike drags on, dancing seems less important as money is tight, clashes with police escalate and tempers flare more often. Yet Dad reaches deep and finds he can accept that Billy is different and loves him enough to swallow his pride and try to help him fulfill his dream.
The music by Elton John is a perfect complement to Lee Hall’s wonderful book and lyrics with a mix of styles and tempo. The score has rousing numbers like, “The Stars Look Down,” to the comical, “Expressing Yourself,” and “Born to Boogie,” to the sad ”Dear Billy,” and “Deep Into The Ground,” to the lovely, exhilarating “Electricity.” The choreography by Peter Darling is also perfectly suited to the story. Director Stephen Daldry has done an amazing job bringing all of the elements together.
As for the cast, what can you say except, bravo? Giuseppe Bausilio is outstanding as Billy. It’s not just his dancing, he is a genuinely likable and appealing actor, and because of that you root for Billy from beginning to end. Faith Prince is a joy as the plain-spoken broad who sets Dad straight. She is the kind of teacher who in real life often doesn’t get as much credit as she deserves for discovering and nurturing talent. Rich Hebert represents Dad well, showing that a father can learn from his children and be redeemed after all. Patti Perkins is both touching and funny as Grandma. Jeff Kready’s Tony aptly represents a young man’s mad-at-the-world frustration. Michael, Billy’s friend, was played on this night by Jacob Zelonky who is affecting/amusing as a pre-teen coming to terms with his sexuality. Patrick Wetzel gives the audience a pleasant surprise as Mr. Braithwaite. Kudos to the entire cast of children and adults, and thank you.
At its heart, Billy Elliot The Musical is an appeal for tolerance. Everyone deserves the right to chart his/her own course in life, and to dream. Allowing that does not diminish us, but rather uplifts us all. 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 member of the Dramatists Guild of America.