June 2019 Podcast

The June 2019 Podcast is now live.  Episode #20 !!!  You can click the buzzsprout link below or search for theaterreviewsfrommyseat on iTunes, Spotify or Stitcher.

This month’s episode covers productions in New York City, Chicago (Steppenwolf Theatre) and San Francisco (American Conservatory Theater).  The play Ink on Broadway.  Duncan Shiek’s new musical The Secret Life of Bees based on Sue Monk Kidd’s bestselling book.  The American premiere of a 1948 play called The Mountains Look Different at the Mint Theater.  And a pile of off-off Broadway works as well.

The mission of theaterreviewsfrommyseat is to record my theatergoing experiences in concise summaries without plot spoilers in order to share my love of theater.  I hope to inspire you to see a play, musical or theater company you may not have known about.  Free email subscriptions for newly published reviews are available at www.theaterreviewsfrommyseat.com.

I hope you enjoy the June 2019 Podcast.  Comments and suggestions are always welcome.  Please send any thoughts to this email: theaterreviewsfrommyseat@comcast.net.  Happy theatergoing!

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In the Green (Lincoln Center)

People (like me) with unhealthy theater addictions are occasionally rewarded for their willingness to let talented artists take them somewhere unique, fascinatingly creative and wholly original.  In the Green is a new musical written by and starring Grace McLean.  I’ve seen and loved her work in Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812, this season’s Alice by Heart and the simply awesome (and why didn’t it run forever) Bedbugs!!!  In her new show, she takes us on a powerfully feminist musical journey based on the true story of Hildegard von Bingen.

Hildegard is one of medieval history’s most creative figures.  As a composer, she wrote Ordo Virtutum, an early example of liturgical drama and probably the oldest surviving morality play.  She also wrote texts about theology, botany and medicine.  She is credited with liturgical songs and poems.  At the age of 42, she was commanded by a presence called The Living Light to write down her visions.  Pope Eugenius III (proclaimed the Second Crusade; later became a saint) heard about her writings and approved of them giving her instant credence.  That support from the church is likely the reason so much of her works still survive.

In the Green mostly occurs prior to this prolific output.  When Hildegard was 8 years old, she was given to the Catholic Church as a tithe or a sacrifice.  She was the tenth child of a noble German family who may have done so as political positioning.  She was assigned as a handmaid to Jutta von Sponheim, a noblewoman who became an anchoress, someone who withdraws from society for religious reasons.  Jutta took her last rites and locked herself in a cell connected to an abbey church living as a dead person to the outside world.  Young Hildegard was locked away with her until Jutta died thirty years later.

Ms. McLean has taken this fascinating history and crafted a powerfully commanding chamber-like show.  In the Green is a psychological dissection of the relationship between these two women.  The self-exile of Jutta takes place from 1106 to 1136.  Imagine what it was like to be a woman living during the Middle Ages.  In the Green confidently proclaims its worldview by demonstrating “this is how you gain control.”

Flooded with superlative creative flourishes, this musical soars.  The piece is indeed religious and somber but Ms. Mc Lean brings a snarky edge to her book and portrayal of Jutta that surprises and gives the show a sharp edge.  This woman locked herself up for thirty years pretending to be dead.  She sees the way:  “if you kill your every care, your burden will be less to bear.”

Rachel Duddy, Ashley Perez Flanagan, Mia Pak and Hannah Whitney are ideal partners playing multiple roles.  The harmonies are difficult and beautifully executed.  While there is a feeling of medieval to these songs in their dissonance, the use of a loop machine to Ms. McLean’s voice adds texture and a modern touch to her moody and introspective songs.

Director Lee Sunday Evans orchestrated a team of first rate contributions for this uniquely quiet and boldly theatrical musical.  Kristen Robinson’s set design rotates to reveal the inner world where two women will bond and where Hildegard will finally emerge.  Barbara Samuels’ lighting design is fascinating in its use of shadows.  The sound design by Nicholas Pope enables the loop idea and disparate harmonies to join in an exultation that is both religious and angry.

In the Green is not a show for everyone and two people skedaddled in the middle of this ninety minute performance.  For fans of abundantly imaginative stagings that serve to beautifully enhance a story, this is an infinitely rewarding visual and auditory delight.  For fans of the medieval era, this musical is a thoughtful slice of history with a unique perspective.

The story of Jutta and the emergence of the brilliant Hildegard is a radically feminist one.  A note in the program states that Ms. McLean was “interested in remembering and celebrating this extraordinary woman, and in doing so I want to knock her off her saintly pedestal in order to recognize her humanity.”  This tale about women making their way through a world that is hostile to them should seem less relevant today.  In addition to its masterful staging, In the Green is also lightly commenting on the incomplete progression of women in our societal era.  This largely female creative team and cast have truly given us something special that is worthy of the ladies commemorated so memorably in this show.

www.lct.org

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Barabbas (Theater for the New City)

According to the Bible, there was a prevailing Passover custom in Jerusalem which allowed a crowd to commute a prisoner’s death sentence.  When Pontius Pilate asked, they chose Barabbas to be released.  Jesus of Nazareth was then crucified.  Playwright Will T. F. Carter’s first play updates this story to a Peruvian prison in 2021.

Sebastian Sahak Barabbas is a lawyer who has been sentenced to the Miguel Castro Castro prison in the eastern province of Lima.  One of the guards is listening to the newly elected President on television.  He is going to rout out those people who seek to tarnish his beloved country for personal or financial gain.  “Bara” has been caught in a tidal shift and pronounced guilty.

Jesús Moreno Glas is a well-known prisoner.  He decided to leak emails to the press exposing corruption in the system.  Jesús was not innocent of crimes but decided to reveal the truth.  His new roommate is the newly incarcerated Bara who despises him.  “You’re the reason I’m here.  You and your conscience.”  Jesús has turned to God.

The tension between the two men is palpable right from the start of this short one act play.  There are some standard issue topics covered including an uncomfortable bed, sharing a toilet, bad food and mistreatment from guards.  The interesting part of this play is the analysis between the characters about their situations amidst a corrupt world.  Jesús knows he won’t last inside this prison, saying “unlike you, I don’t have congressional representation.”

Bara is represented by a lawyer who advises that he needs to let things blow over for a while.  He is confused by Jesús’ viewpoint noting, “your confession solidified the President’s message.”  Is everyone really in favor of transparency?  This play argues that truth is only welcome until it has negative personal impacts.

Events happen which destabilize the world outside.  The spin cycle we see on our televisions every day is employed here to question the validity (or even usefulness) of the truth.  Someone may be labeled a criminal one day.  A major shift in the prevailing winds could change perception into a more socially acceptable label as political prisoner the next day.

The moral dilemma of self-preservation was particularly interesting.  Faced with a Barabbas versus Jesus choice (and one of them was you), how far would you go to not be the one crucified?

This production directed by Eduardo Machado could benefit from even more tension.  Darker lighting might enhance the feeling of suffocating in abject squalor.  As designed, the set makes conversations happen between characters facing toward each other and away from the audience.  More lines were mumbled and lost than is advisable (although I expect that should have improved through previews).

The fight choreography by Daniel Benhamu was excellent.  Anwar Wolf portrayed Jesús and believably conveyed all of the piety required.  Mateo D’Amato produced and starred in this play as Bara.  It’s a juicy role with many different emotions.  Mr. D’Amato successfully propelled the story and gave us yet another reason to distrust lawyers and whatever establishment is in power.  “It was just an envelope…. it’s not like I killed someone.”

www.theaterforthenewcity.net

Ink (Manhattan Theatre Club)

The story of Rupert Murdoch’s rise is well known.  No spoiler alert needed.  His media empire, including Fox News, continue to “inform” a public and support the Republican and Trump party lines.  Ink takes us back to the early mogul days when an Australian businessman would take over The Sun, a London tabloid, and change news forever.

James Graham’s intricate and slyly witty play is a marvel of multi-character storytelling which swirls around the two main figures in this tale.  Bertie Carvel (Matilda) won a Tony for his portrayal of Mr. Murdoch.  His body language and vocal inflections suggest slithering snake meets predatory fox.  The fascinating extra view is that there is a cloud of prudishness in his worldview.  For a tabloid which introduced Page 3 girls to print newspapers, that sidebar is interesting.

Jonny Lee Miller (After Miss Julie) is equally expert as Larry Lamb, the man handpicked to be the paper’s editor.  He scours Fleet Street and the local watering holes to drum up his team.  They are all going to have “fun” and give the people what they want.  In the process he warns his boss, “there’s going to be a lot of blood.”  Murdoch replies, “God I hope so.”

Murdoch wants “something loud” to upend the British establishment.  “When I hear codes and traditions, I hear things which benefit those that have written them.”  The motto is “we punch up and not down.”  For people concerned about the state of media communications today, this play is timely, troubling, very funny and hugely entertaining.

Directed as a swirling hurricane by Rupert Goold, the edges are sharp and the insights are meaty and delicious.  What will these journalists do to make The Sun the number one paper in the United Kingdom?  There is a scene where the unheard of idea to produce a television commercial is filmed.  Andrew Durand (Head Over Heels) plays the actor hired to communicate the message while cognizant of time and costs.  The moment is nothing short of hysterical.

The large cast is extremely accomplished in support of a story packed with details and amusing tidbits.  There is real tragedy of course since tabloids are known for chewing people up and spitting them out.  That section is riveting stuff.  It is also revolting and speaks volumes about the evolution of the media since then.

The set design by Bunny Christie is a marvelous pyramid of news desks cleverly designed to allow multiple levels of entrances and exits.  Frenetic is the newsroom.  Neil Austin won a Tony for the lighting design and it is magically nostalgic yet dark and seedy at the same time.  The original music (Adam Cork) is the heartbeat propelling this tale.  Jon Driscoll’s projection design is integral in adding to the tension and allowing us a visual glimpse at some of this tabloid’s history.

Near the end of the play comes an unsurprising but still powerful reveal.  Once you capture the minds of a large class of people, you can mold them to your way of thinking.  That is what The Sun did during the rise of Margaret Thatcher.  That is what Fox News and others have also done in America.

When my parents were screaming at me one day about President Obama taking all our guns away, I knew the mission was complete.  I had never heard them mention guns in my life, now they were rabid venom spewers.  For a superbly entertaining and creatively staged glimpse into how we got here, Ink is required viewing.

www.manhattantheatreclub.com

Nomad Motel (Atlantic Theater)

Sitting in the lobby at intermission for Nomad Motel, a woman and her companion were waiting for the elevator.  They were leaving (and maybe a dozen more followed).  She turned to him and said, “this isn’t just bad.  This is phenomenally bad.”  I was in agreement at that point.  What did she miss?  The second act was worse.

Carla Ching’s play is a cliche ridden amalgam of awkwardly unnatural dialogue.  Towards the end of the play, the obviously bored audience seemed to bond while laughing at the play and rolling their eyes.  Ed Sylvanus Isklander’s direction dragged on and on.  The last twenty minutes feel like hours.

Yu-Hsuan Chen’s set attempted to provide a generic space to represent the various locations.  Like the play, the design grabbed an idea and abandoned it quickly.  Manually operated curtains were used to change scenes in the beginning.  Throughout much of the play afterward, cast members sort of clean up the scattered props when scenes are finished.  When Mom is leaving her daughter once again, she’s taking crates to a car.  In this staging, she’s not really doing that.  Instead, she’s handing them through a door to someone offstage.

Believable details are not a strong suit in the direction of this play.  Two young people have no money and are squatting in a former store.  They can make grilled cheese with an electric sandwich press.  He prepares one and splits it with his ex-girlfriend.  They engage in dialogue.  Neither finishes their portion of food despite not having eaten all day.  We watch him clean up and throw the remaining sandwiches in the trash.  Is there any acting – or direction – going on?  Why is there electricity in an abandoned store?  Nothing which occurs on this stage is remotely worthy of your time.

A mother and her daughter are living with her unseen brothers in a motel having lost their house.  The mom (Samantha Mathis) is a train wreck.  Daughter Alix (Molly Griggs) is a good student with dreams of college.  Struggling with poverty and having to work as a waitress to support deadbeat Mom, she inexplicably also has so much street smarts that she can fence anything for cash.  The role is an impossible ask for any actress.  Ms. Griggs is not believable in the role and adds no layers to horrifically banal lines.

A nerdy kid lives nearby in a big house but there are also money problems.  His largely absent father calls him from Hong Kong to maintain control.  Dad disappears for long stretches.  He has a dangerous job, likely criminal.  Mason (Christopher Larkin) finds a bird and is nursing it to health.  The relationship is domineering Asian father and sensitive musician son.  They clash.  Dad (Andrew Pang) alternates between mean alcoholic thug and wisecracking droll comedian.  He wants to toughen his son up “so he’s not a runt sucking on my teat when he’s thirty.”  The son’s view is “I don’t want to spend my life moving money around.”  When the fight finally happens, it is preposterous.  If you left early, you will have missed that!

There’s another friend Oscar (Ian Duff) who has been tossed on the streets again from a never ending series of foster homes.  He is aggressively jealous of the largely studious relationship between Alix and Mason.  At no point does any of this artificial tension make any sense.  When staying with Oscar in the rundown storefront, Alix lights luminaria to photograph her next new home with more aesthetically pleasing lighting.

Points are made about bad parenting and children’s survival in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds.  “Maybe some people were never designed to have children.”  The cliches in the script are too voluminous to make you care about themes.  When the Guns and Roses song “Sweet Child O’ Mine” started playing, I laughed.  Was that the intention?  If the moment was meant to be serious, it was an epic fail.

Nomad Motel is probably closer to an independent film than a play. Long music interludes are added to the overly precious visual moments.  When Alix and Mason are running from their past (with their parents still awkwardly onstage), you are watching an unfunded movie not an intelligently staged play.  When you see a lot of theater, there are some clunkers experienced along the way.  This one, from the Atlantic Theater Company, is beyond awful.  The lady who exited early didn’t need to see the second act to make the correct call.

www.atlantictheater.org

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The Mountains Look Different (Mint Theater)

Micheál mac Liammóir is the Irish author of many plays and books.  In 1928, he co-founded the Gate Theater with his partner Hilton Edwards.  He once gave an acting break to Orson Welles and later appeared as Iago in his film version of Othello.  In a 1990 biography, this playwright’s background was corrected to reveal that he was an Englishman who expertly crafted an Irish persona.  Pretending to be someone else is at the center of The Mountains Look Different.

Written in 1948, this revival at the Mint Theater Company is the play’s American premiere.  Mr. mac Liammóir performed as the son Tom in the original.  The play was inspired by Eugene O’Neill’s Anna Christie in which a former prostitute falls in love but has difficulty turning her life around.  The Mountains Look Different is an imagining of what might have happened after O’Neill’s play ended.

Midsummer Eve, June 23, is Bonfire Night; a pre-Christian celebration rebranded by the church as St. John’s Eve.  The program has an informative dramaturgical note to explain the event and its traditions.  Like many ancient holidays, this one is a petition for a bountiful harvest and good luck.  Animal bones are thrown into a fire which gave its name from the term bonefires.  Long held superstitions in a rural landscape dotted with mountains are still followed by these farmers.

Martin Grealish’s acreage has no electricity, running water or farm equipment.  His son Tom returns from London with Bairbre whom he intends to marry.  She does not come with any dowry but her Uncle might be able to help.  Bairbre’s got a complicated backstory and is desperate to become an ordinary wife and live happily on this farm.  The playwright peels the opaque onion back in a series of scenes culminating in one involving multiple slugs of whiskey.

Confidently paced by Director Aidan Redmond (Mint’s The Suitcase Under the Bed), the complexities and internal negotiations of remaking oneself are explored through rich dialogue and body language.  Act I of this play gets the plot machinations underway.  In Act II, the family and some neighbors return from the bonfire for all-night party.  The easy camaraderie between these characters and the actors portraying them lends an nice touch of authenticity to this melodrama.

The acting is solid across the board.  As the straightforward, hard widowed father, Con Horgan never shies away from letting everyone know who is in charge.  Jesse Pennington’s son Tom is aggressively presented as a tightly wound man.  A romantic dreamer, he returns from London with the woman he loves.  His discomforts are raw in this very interesting performance.  As Bairbre, Brenda Meaney beautifully establishes the rough, experienced Barbara Stanwyck barely hidden underneath an ineffective and fragile Donna Reed shell.  The three roles are critical to the success of this play.  That these actors are all up to the challenge as equals makes this chestnut hum with life and wail with regret.

Moodiness peppers this play.  “It’s a good thing to be lonesome sometimes.”  “The Lord strengthen her.  I don’t think she has long to live at all.”  The mountains look different after a stay in the big city.  People look different as the age, mature and evolve.  Or do they really morph?  Is turning over a new leaf possible?

As is typical for the Mint Theater, the creative elements excel.  Vicki R. Davis’ set design seems to merge realism with a fable-like atmosphere that feels appropriate for this morality play.  The action begins outside the front of the farmhouse which will later crack open to reveal the inner home and, by extension, Bairbre’s past.

When this play first opened, the Legion of Mary in heavily Catholic Ireland asserted that “there were no Irish prostitutes in London.”  Also, “no Irish Catholic would have anything to do with” them.  Despite the protests, the play was successful with Dublin audiences likely because the theme of morality was candidly and thoughtfully addressed.  The Mountains Look Different is recommended for fans of well written period pieces given fine productions.

www.minttheater.org

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[Veil Widow Conspiracy] (Next Door at NYTW)

Presented by NAATCO (National Asian American Theatre Company), the parentheses of the title [Veil Widow Conspiracy] hint at this play’s structure.  The events to be unveiled center around a 1922 political murder mystery which occurred in Xinjiang, China.  It is also about a 2010 movie filmed on location about that mystery.  Finally, two young Asians in a dystopian Brooklyn in 2035 are discussing the film.  The story lines are related and tucked inside each other but really serve to comment on philosophies and moralities.

In conversation, Mei and Xião agree that it’s not enough to be family anymore to get in China.  Connections are needed.  Apparently they reside in Brooklyn and the situation in the year 2035 is not good.  Xião (Aaron Yoo) brings up the autonomous region of Xinjiang and a movie.  The film cannot be seen in this presumably dystopian world so he will be telling her the story.  The metaphorically dense dialogue emerges early on when Mei (Karoline Xu) says, “We’re basically swimming in doubt and breathing bad faith – who can bear deliberate fancy?”

Quickly the time shifts to 1922 and we hear about a General’s daughter whose face was disfigured in a shooting accident.  Her husband was killed and now she is going to remarry.  A line of pompously important suitors attempt to woo her.  She now wears a veil since her appearance is a highly guarded secret, likely a hideous one.  The plot thickens as the suitors bad mouth each other and she toys with them about finding and killing her husband’s murderer.

This extensive period soap opera portion is leaden with little tension created to spark the attempt at aristocratic political intrigue.  The 1922 Heiress (Kimiye Corwin) says to the Commander, “How can I, when the thought of your touch makes me gag?”  It’s hard to get on board when the words sound silly and overwrought but are not delivered that way.

Shifting again, the play moves to the filming of the 2010 movie.  More or less there are three angles here:  recreation of movie scenes, interviews with the filmmakers and heated discussions with Chinese censors who confiscate the half-finished project.  “A western film attacking Chinese values will not be approved.”  The producer responds, “Of course not.  Tell me, is this like pubic hair?”  A conversation ensues about the appropriateness of male and female nudity.

Lines emerge about false truths which perk up the ears.  “The hypocrisy of a truth despite it being universally known.  That is exactly what brought down the Catholic Church.  And the Berlin Wall.”  But then the dialogue circles back to “pubic hair is another example, absent across centuries to even now – depending on where – but still, often, sometimes – asserting the complete non-existence of a biological commonplace.”  There are some interesting ideas and thoughts buried deep within this play.  The dialogue is often so intellectually unnatural that it was hard to stay focused to find those nuggets.

The mishmash of interlocking stories continue from 1922 events to the movie shoot to the cast speaking directly to the audience.  An actor confesses “I felt so naïve, in my privilege” before quickly returning to the main drama.  The story will finally conclude before returning to Brooklyn in 2035 so the Mei and Xião can disagree about the film.  She concludes:  “that is an insidious amount of total bullshit.”  A dangerous line to throw out there at the end of an overwritten play.  [Veil Widow Conspiracy] needs copious editing and perhaps complete elimination of the Brooklyn bookends which did not seem to add anything meaningful.

Edward Chin-Lyn (as Commander and Film Director) and James Seol (as Prince and Delegate) created confident characterizations for both of their roles.  Yu-Hsuan Chen’s set design was ingeniously simple and very effective in clearly delineating the oft-changing locales.  Gordon Dahlquist’s play, however, is long-winded and the director (Aneesha Kudtarkar) was not able to help us understand why this particular story was being told.

www.nytw.org

www.naatco.org

13 Fruitcakes (La Mama)

La Mama Experimental Theatre Club has programmed a month-long series called the Stonewall 50 celebration.  Coinciding with this month’s World Pride event, 13 Fruitcakes arrives with a few instructive sentences about New York in 1964 when the World’s Fair was opening.  The mayor orders the city’s social pariahs off the streets including the homeless, druggies, prostitutes and homosexuals.  That’s a far cry from rainbow windows at Nordstrom’s in midtown today.  Halleloo!

From this ominous opening, video projections wind backward through time until 6th Century BCE.  The first of the vignettes is the story of Harmodius and Aristogeiton.  These two male lovers became known as the Tyrannicides, the preeminent symbol of democracy to ancient Athenians.  (Wouldn’t it be fun if Tyrannicides was the word origin for “tranny”?)  These men assassinated the authoritarian tyrant.  With minimal storytelling (projected sentences), each scene incorporates a sung poem from a gay author set to an original score.  For this first vignette, they used Walt Whitman’s We Two Boys Clinging Together.

The story of Dong Xian in the 1st Century BCE follows.  He was a Han Dynasty politician who quickly gained fame and power, rising to be the most powerful official in Emperor Ai’s administration.  Both were married but the two men had a sexual relationship.  King Hyegong of Korea’s Silla kingdom in the 8th Century was murdered because he was effeminate.  Historians describe him as a man by appearance but a woman by nature.

Byungkoo Ahn wrote and directed this production featuring the Singing Actors Repertory from South Korea.  The beautiful and intricate song cycle was composed by Gihieh Lee.  The poem’s words were always projected to allow their meaning to be clear whether or not sung in English.  The style was frequently operatic and deeply emotional.  The singing by the accomplished cast was excellent as was the choreographed movement and silent acting.

The show travels through history presenting artistic vignettes of major “fruitcakes” from history.  Serious, somber and occasionally playful and silly, the show incorporates music, dance, costumes and drama with a major Korean drag artist as a Mistress of Ceremonies named Orlando.  More Zimin lip synchs her songs which are performed live by the gloriously big voiced Jayoung Jeong.  Along the way, the show covers Leonardo da Vinci, Tchaikovski and Eleanor Roosevelt seen in many, many photos kissing women.

One particular story is told with simplistic and heartbreaking poignancy.  Alice B. Toklas lived with Gertrude Stein for 38 years.  Ms. Stein was an avid art collector of works by her friends and had assembled a treasure trove of paintings.  When she died, Ms. Toklas had no legal standing as the women were not married.  She died in penury.  The projection first showed an empty room, then chairs, then the women and finally the whole room was filled in with paintings adorning the walls.  A visual representation of an unfair society powerfully told through a single photograph.

The sad, horrifically unjust tale of Alan Turing is another slice of fruitcake.  It remains unfathomable that the man who was pivotal in decoding Nazi communications for the Allies and saving millions of lives would be sentenced to chemical castration for his homosexuality.  Twenty years later British sex farces with transvestites would be considered great fun in the West End.

Using a little comedy to lighten up the proceedings was welcome in the section about Hans Christian Andersen.  His love letters to Edvard Collin survive but Mr. Collin married and was not gay.  Scholars believe Andersen’s The Little Mermaid, written at the same time as the communication between these two men, is reflective of his personal story of loss.  Oscar Wilde’s Wasted Days provides the poem to accompany this piece.  A wedding ceremony is staged where three groomsmen hilariously horse around with dildos.  This is partially a drag show after all.

Much of the pacing in 13 Fruitcakes is very slow with transitions that could be shortened.  All of this blooming artistry is accompanied by Los Angeles Laptop Collective who, dressed as nerdish angels, add layers of electronica noises throughout the show.  It’s jarring and different than anything on the stage.  The effect seemed to be a different generation looking back in time from the perspective of today.  That remains important and added an interesting element.

Dripping with style and grace (and, of course, a fabulous headdress), More Zimin ends the show with a climatic peak.  The whole cast is singing and she saunters offstage returning with chains carried overhead only to throw them to the ground.  The cast sings “we must go through yet we do not know who called or what marks we shall leave upon the snow.”

There is only one weekend to see this experimental work of art in the midst of a historical pride month from an overseas company who brought their singular vision.  Patient theatergoers will be rewarded with a celebration of some of the best fruitcakes ever tasted.

www.lamama.org

The Secret Life of Bees (Atlantic Theater)

Religion is not my personal cup of tea (with or without honey) in any form.  Watching the new musical  The Secret Life of Bees, I was surprised how powerfully the case was made for fervent belief.  It’s 1964 in the American south.  Not being white is a troubled proposition.  A century after the Emancipation Proclamation, people are still being murdered for the color of their skin.  A movement expanding civil rights and eliminating discriminatory voting barriers like literacy tests is encouraging people to do their part.  That environment can be dangerously toxic.

Imagine a country where governmental leaders use threats to suppress a group of people based on their racial profile.  What about providing unequal and inadequate education to those same citizens?  While parallels can easily be drawn to the harshly racist conservative movements in today’s America, this fictional tale is a cousin to Harper Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird and Kathryn Stockett’s The Help.  Set in the same general period, all three are reminders of our very recent history.  These trials and tribulations may not seem new but the necessity of telling them has clearly not abated.

Which brings me back to the religious angle that passionately separates this particular tale from the others.  August lives in her grandfather’s home with her sisters.  They are in the business of making honey.  The label on the jar is a picture of a black Madonna.  They have a statue of her carved into wood which they use during their Sunday ceremonies.  They are joyously devoted yet desperately seeking healing and guidance to see them through difficult days.  You can palpably feel their spiritual connection to generations of their ancestors.  Clinging to hope that salvation from oppression can and will arrive.  The strength to live each and every day until that freedom shines.

When these ladies come together to raise the roof, the score by Duncan Sheik (Spring Awakening, Alice By Heart) and lyrics by Susan Birkhead (Jelly’s Last Jam, Working) soar.  The gospel tinged “Tek A Hol A My Soul” and the second act showstopper, “Hold This House Together” dig into deep wells of emotion.  Escaping their own personal troubles together, Lily and Rosaleen will learn about love, life, compassion and beekeeping from these women.

Unfortunately, the director Sam Gold has staged this musical like a reading with a few chairs and some props.  The shiny wooden floor doesn’t make any sense.  I cannot think of a show which had lighting as harshly unflattering as this one (Jane Cox was the designer).  I presume they were going for hot white sun in the south.  Or perhaps, like the Oklahoma! revival, they felt a need for super bright lighting to starkly illuminate the evil lurking in America (a new theater trend?)  Instead, real moments of intense emotion were bizarrely devoid of any atmosphere whatsoever.  In addition, cast members sitting around on stage watching scenes rarely added anything but I guess they were needed to move the tables and chairs around.

Amazingly, the cast is so strong and Sweat author Lynn Nottage’s book is so well told, I was able to see past the visual disjointedness and be drawn into the emotional core of the material.  LaChanze (Once on This Island, The Color Purple) is astonishingly fine as August, the matriarch of this clan and soul of this story.  With her gorgeous singing voice and fully developed characterization, all of her interactions and conversations felt organically believable.

Lily is the young white girl who arrives and is taken under August’s wing.  Critical to this success of this show, Elizabeth Teeter (The Crucible, Mary Poppins) nailed her complicated persona.  She’s the Scout of this story and hers is a much darker tale.  The chemistry between her and Zachary (Brett Gray, excellent) from early friendship development to more significantly complex yearnings were beautifully handled.

Manoel Feliciano plays T-Ray, Lily’s abusive father.  The performance is ideal in its ability to make this evil man multi-dimensional.  Nathaniel Stampley’s Neil woos and woos June (Eisa Davis).  Their exchanges fuel the beating heart of hope and the dreams of perseverance.  This entire cast is stellar, including Saycon Sengbloh (Eclipsed) in the juicy role of Rosaleen, the character who seemingly grows the most as events unfold.

Importantly, the music is extremely tuneful and nicely varied from full throttled gospel to quiet piano ballads to dramatically executed a cappella.  Even the lighter, more musical comedy number “Fifty-Five Fairlane” was fun.  If the lyrics occasionally seem a tad generic in a self-help style, that feeling gets washed away by these exceptional performances.  The Secret Life of Bees can be even better than this production.  Given how much I enjoyed this musical, that is something to look forward to experiencing.

www.atlantictheater.org

Convention

Ever wanted to sit on the floor during a Presidential nominating National Convention?  The opportunity is available in Brooklyn at the Irondale Center.  Danny Rocco’s play immerses its audience onto the floor of the 1944 Democratic convention.  Roosevelt had already served four terms and was not expected to live through his next one.  A battle for the Vice Presidency – and for the likely next President – occurred.  That juicy political story is retold here with a huge cast of forty actors.

The candidates for Vice President included the incumbent Henry A. Wallace and Harry S. Truman.  Although Wallace was the President’s pick, some in the party found him too progressively left and friendly to labor.  Truman was the more moderate choice.  Convention imagines the wheeling and dealing which took place over two days in July, 1944.

Directed by Shannon Fillion, the convention stage is used for speeches but the guts of this play is the action which occurs everywhere, often simultaneously as written.  There are delegates sitting among the audience chanting “we want Wallace, the same old team.”  Discussions, arguments and gossip ensues.  There are many sidebars happening in the aisles and up in the balcony. Pick one or two and eavesdrop.  The energy and general mayhem is fun, especially for political junkies.

There are a lot of delegates and who’s who becomes a little hard to follow.  The main players in this drama do emerge.  Senator Samuel D. Jackson worked very hard to secure Truman’s nomination.  He later said that he wanted his tombstone inscribed with the words, “Here lies the man who stopped Henry Wallace from becoming President of the United States.”

Jackson is portrayed by Kathleen Littlefield in a confidently assured performance.  The casting in this show is gender and racially neutral.  That seems to work fine overall.  Campiness does creep in occasionally and it seems intentional.  The relatively young cast, however, struggles slightly to add gravitas to these delegates and convention organizers so the humor is close to sitcom laughs.  The best performances were strongly defined, appropriately serious in tone while also being amusing.  McLean Peterson’s Mayor Kelly, Michael Pantozzi’s Philip Murray (from the Congress of Industrial Organizations) and Sue Kim as Dorothy Vrendenburgh, the Secretary of the DNC, were especially memorable.

Billed as an immersive political comedy, the production pivots between semi-serious reenactment and slyly subversive farce.  The build up in Act I to the final speech in support of Wallace is a peak.  The show is never less than interesting and fascinating to follow.  If you enjoy bribes, secret meetings, spying, extramarital affairs, conniving and pettiness, there is much to gawk at during this political soap opera spoof.

The beginning of Act II takes a turn to a lighter, jokier comedic style which was less successful.  The Hot Dog Man (a very funny J.G. Grouzard) is front and center barking about his merchandise.  Bess Truman is portrayed by Daniel John Serpati in drag.  He’s certainly funny but a tad out of place.  The women playing men don’t camp up the drag nearly as big (or perhaps he was just the boldest impersonation).

There are some odd diversions along the way where these characters ponder what love is or toss up-to-date commentary into the mix.  “Stop it.  You’re like birds tweeting… use your mind.”  I did get a kick out of many of the witty asides in the script when they were politically insightful and sharply delivered.  A favorite:  “people love bullshit because people are simple.”

I sat in the Iowa section.  Many audience members were fanning themselves like you might see in a crowded, overheated convention hall.  It added to the realism but the fans served another purpose.  The inside of the Irondale Center is quite warm.  I advise you to dress appropriately.

Last week I saw Ms. Blakk For President at Chicago’s Steppenwolf Theatre about the 1992 New York Democratic Convention.  Three days later I attended this Convention in NYC based on the 1944 Chicago Democratic Convention.  Kismet?  America’s politics may appear more theatrical today than ever before.  It’s a welcome time to let inspiring artists highlight some of the highs and lows of the democratic process.  We need to laugh at it sometimes to remain sane.

Convention can be recommended for its immersive experience and Shannon Fillion’s you-are-there direction.  Her massive cast has been orchestrated to make you feel like you are on the floor in the middle of the action.  Although clearly not intended, it would be interesting to see this same piece staged more traditionally with a gang of grandstanding older, white men.  Danny Rocco’s ambitious dramedy might then acquire a darker edge more pointedly skewering the political games played in the real world.

www.irondale.org

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