Sarasota Magazine

Monday, February 08, 2010

Cavalleria rusticana/Pagliacci

A double-bill of treachery and tragedy with the Sarasota Opera's Cav/Pag.

By Kay Kipling

It’s been only a few years since the Sarasota Opera last performed the double-bill of Mascagni’s Cavalleria rusticana and Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci, but I somehow missed that production, so it’s been many years since I’ve seen (and heard) these operatic tales of jealousy, infidelity and the whole dramatic mess that ensues when people behave very badly.

Certainly both operas could serve as cautionary tales to anyone planning an illicit affair; in the opera world, that sort of thing almost always ends in murder, occasionally of the double or triple variety. When will people learn?

In the Mascagni piece, set in a small Sicilian village (and you do know about Sicilians and revenge), the main characters are Santuzza, a peasant girl (Kara Shay Thomson) wronged by the man she loves, Turiddu (Gustavo Lopez Manzitti). Seems he took up with her only after his girlfriend Lola (Stephanie Lauricella) ditched him while he was away in the army to marry Alfio (Michael Corvino), the village teamster, but the two have now rekindled their old flame. Santuzza comes to beg Turiddu’s mother, Lucia (Cathleen Candia), to tell her where he is, so she may plead her case to him. But despite the fact that it’s Easter Sunday, a time when all in the village are thinking of spring and resurrection rather than love triangles (or quartets), Turiddu makes the mistake of rejecting poor Santuzza—and you can guess the outcome when she drops a certain bombshell in Alfio’s ear.

Thomson, who scored last season here as the tragic Tosca, is likewise powerful here, as a character whose main task is to implore, unsuccessfully. And Manzitti, with the large chorus, delivers a stirring rendition of the drinking song Viva, il vino spumeggiante. Some moments of the piece, especially early on, felt a big sluggish on opening night, but that’s partly the opera’s structure, which begins with an offstage song and likewise has an intermezzo where the stage stands empty.

But Manzitti’s better suited, I think, to the role of the tragic clown in Pagliacci. Here he is the betrayed one, by his wife Nedda (Aundi Marie Moore) and her local lover Silvio (Evan Brummel). The couple is part of a traveling commedia troupe, but Nedda has tired of the life and longs for escape (Moore is charming on her wistful birdsong number). She’s also being hounded by the troupe’s hunchback, Tonio (Corvino again), who wants her for himself and plans malicious mischief when he discovers her secret. The famous play-within-a-play scene of Act II, with the jealous Pagliacci losing all sense of the difference between reality and artifice, is still powerfully effective; and his Act I rendering of the Vesti la giubba solo touches the heart, as does of course the opera’s classic, chilling closing line, “La Commedia è finita!”

BTW, a program note: The Sarasota Opera’s 2010-2011 season has just been announced. The company will once again present a fall opera season, offering Rossini’s version of the Cinderella story, La Cenerentola, opening Oct. 29. The winter festival returns in February with four works, including the always popular La bohème, Mozart’s Don Giovanni, Verdi’s I lombardi, and, in a new direction for the opera, the 20^th-century opera by Robert Ward (based on Arthur Miller’s play), The Crucible. That’s part of the Sarasota Opera’s to-be-continued American Classics series, which looks to include Samuel Barber’s Vanessa and Carlisle Floyd’s Of Mice and Men in future seasons. For tickets to any of the operas this season, call 366-8450 or go to sarasotaopera.org.

Ruined

Hard-hitting drama at Florida Studio Theatre with Ruined.

By Kay Kipling

A play set in a bar-brothel in the Congo amid civil war, rape and other atrocities might sound depressing, even though Florida Studio Theatre, which is currently producing Lynn Nottage’s Pulitzer Prize winner, Ruined, assures audiences it is not. On press night that proved to be true. But there is definitely strong stuff here, so be forewarned.

The worst of what transpires does not take place on the stage, but off it, much of it told to us rather than shown. The main character of the play is Mama Nadi (Alice M. Gatling, who also starred to good effect in FST’s Black Pearl Sings last season), and she is someone to be reckoned with, capable of forcing both rebel and government soldiers to put down their weapons when they enter her establishment. We’re not sure at first if any compassion lurks behind her tough façade; at Mama’s everything is for sale, including sexual services from the women who work for her, and money seems to matter to her more than anything else.

So when her sometime suitor (Stanley Wayne Mathis) brings her, along with some rare Belgian chocolates and other supplies, two more women looking for refuge, she is not eager to take them on. “I don’t have room for another broken girl,” she snaps. And the two new women are indeed broken, or “ruined” in ways that would make them outcasts back in their villages. The older, Salima (Stephanie Weeks), has been used and abused by many men after being kidnapped from her home and her husband; the younger, Sophie (Bianca Sams), has been physically as well as mentally torn and is not really a practical acquisition for a brothel—except that she can sing a little.

Alice M. Gatling and Bianca Sams in FST's Ruined.

Singing is one of the attractions that can help everyone who comes to Mama’s forget the troubles outside. But we know they are building, and we are ready when the explosion comes. There are expected losses, but there is also something of a victory—thus the spirit of hope that Nottage and her characters provide.

While Gatling is the standout here, fierce and strong, the other cast members are up to the challenge of portraying what feel like real people who have suffered without making them martyrs. And in general the tension and trauma are well handled by director Richard Hopkins. What faults lie with Ruined stem from the play itself, which could have been trimmed and tends to make speeches pointing too obviously to what we’re supposed to feel and think.

That said, Ruined will still pack a punch for theatergoers willing to face such unrelenting fare. It continues on FST’s mainstage through April 3; for tickets call 366-9000 or go to floridastudiotheatre.org.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

The Motown '60s Revue

Get ready to move as Westcoast Black Theatre presents The Motown '60s Revue.

By Kay Kipling

The Westcoast Black Theatre Troupe had some success last season with a series of musical revues performed at Art Center Sarasota. Judging from the size of the crowd and their response to the first show of its 10^th anniversary season, The Motown ’60s Revue, the night that I attended, they should have more success this year.

More was also the word to apply to the cast of this show—11 in all, larger than last season’s casts. It seems as if it takes more performers to really do justice to all the Motown hits you’ll hear in this approximately two-hour-long (with intermission) evening.

The structure of the show is loose. The first act is supposed to take place in a Detroit neighborhood in the 1960s, and there is a little dialogue at the outset about such topics as Berry Gordy’s record label and a visit from Dr. Martin Luther King. There’s also a setup for some songs about love with a young girl (Naarai Jacobs) who’s looking to find it and receiving advice from more experienced friends and neighbors.

But that’s all just an excuse to get the party started, as the cast (energetically backed by music director Jay Dodge II and keyboardist Ozanda Waldalph Gray Jr.) start rocking with numbers from all the groups those of us of a certain age recall growing up with: The Temptations, the Marvelettes, the Four Tops, the Supremes, the Isley Brothers, etc. The second act of the show purports to be an outdoor concert, with WBTT artistic director Nate Jacobs a natural in the role of a highly promotional emcee, and here the performers are dressed with a more uptown flair as they are introduced as the aforementioned acts themselves.

It’s impossible to do anything with a show like this beyond mention some of its highlights, so here goes with a few: the late Act I renditions of Can’t Help Myself by Charles Manning, The Way You Do the Things You Do by Jeff Atkins and Up Tight by Atkins and Chris Eisenberg (more on him in a minute); and Act II’s It’s the Same Old Song, Stop! In the Name of Love, Ball of Confusion (led by Manning and Leon Pitts II), Ain’t That Peculiar and Pride and Joy (with Sheldon Rhoden doing a smokin’ Marvin Gaye) and Nate Jacobs on an upbeat For Once in My Life. Ayanna Goldwire scores on the more sultry numbers, and Nisi Weaver, Lynette White, Jnana Wilson and Naarai Jacobs all have their moments to shine in a show that’s well balanced as far as song tempo and mood.

As he did in a show last season, the very young Eisenberg delivers as the lead singer for the Jackson 5 hits. And while he may not resemble Michael Jackson much physically, it’s just as spookily impressive here as it was with Michael to see someone that age who can sing, move and engage us with such confidence and presence.

The Motown ’60s Revue continues through Feb. 7 at Art Center Sarasota; for tickets call 366-1505 or visit wbttroupe.org.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Hearts

The Asolo Rep stirs up old memories with Hearts.

By Kay Kipling

I’m not sure just how many members of the “Greatest Generation” we have living on the Suncoast, but you can bet that many of them will be turning out for the Asolo Rep’s production of Willy Holtzman’s play Hearts.

It’s a natural play choice for our area’s demographic: It’s about the World War II memories of a Jewish, St. Louis-born soldier named Donald Waldman (Douglas Jones), whose life for decades after the war is still affected by things he saw and did during it—although at first Donny (who often speaks to the audience directly) doesn’t want to share those memories at all.

Standing on the stage, his old Army jacket open because he can no longer button it around his girth, Donny is reluctant to think about attending a veterans’ reunion—why should a bunch of old farts get together to trade war stories? He’s amusing and entertaining, whether alone on stage or playing the game of Hearts in the basement with his longtime buddies (Michael Joseph Mitchell, Peter Mendez, James Clarke), but obviously something darker lurks behind the jokes and the smile. And gradually, in scenes that flash back and forth between his time on European battlegrounds and on the homefront with his wife (Sarah Gavitt) and youngest son (Kevin Stanfa), we find out what it is.

Michael Joseph Mitchell, Douglas Jones, Peter Mendez and James Clarke in Hearts.

It may not be that much of a surprise when we do. It’s fairly easy to read the cards here; you might almost say that Holtzman has stacked the deck. But that doesn’t mean that Hearts doesn’t affect us. Jones and the cast make their characters individual enough that, while this story may resemble many others, it’s still unique in the telling.

That telling is occasionally a bit rushed (at least it was on opening night); it would be nice to slow down occasionally to let some of the moments as Donny works his way toward self-reconciliation sink in. But overall Hearts is bound to resonate with most of its audience members, whether they’re vets themselves or the children or grandchildren of vets.

Hearts continues in rotating rep through April 11; for tickets call 351-8000 or visit asolo.org.

Friday, January 22, 2010

The Last Five Years

The arc of a relationship is portrayed in the Asolo Rep's The Last Five Years.

By Kay Kipling

We’ve all known the pain of relationships that don’t work out, but most of us can’t begin to convey the sweep of emotions that accompany love and loss as does Jason Robert Brown in the two-person musical The Last Five Years, now showing in an Asolo Rep production at the Historic Asolo Theater.

Brown definitely mines his own personal experience of a marriage that ended with this story, told entirely in musical numbers with a wide range of styles, from pop to rock to more typically theatrical tunes. The songs are performed alternately by Jamie (Sam Osheroff), a young writer who gets his wish for success and fame, and his wife, Cathy (Kris Danford), an aspiring actress who doesn’t; and what works to make The Last Five Years especially poignant is the way those years are recounted. Cathy’s first number (Still Hurting) is sung at the beginning of the show but the end of the marriage; she then travels back in time over those years, while Jamie starts at the beginning and ends at—well, the end.

In just 90 minutes (with no intermission), Brown manages to pack in pretty much all the excitement and joy of the discovery of first love (Shiksa Goddess, I Can Do Better Than That) to the sadness of the gradual disintegration of togetherness (If I Didn’t Believe in You, Nobody Needs to Know). There are out-and-out amusing songs, too, like A Summer in Ohio, where Cathy entertainingly describes her nightmarish experiences working in summer stock, and her audition sequence—a familiar story to anyone who’s ever worked in theater.

The action all takes place on a simple set consisting of panels that project different images to take us from the couple’s New York apartment to a riverfront in Ohio to the small-town world Cathy grew up in. Danford and Osheroff push around a couple of benches to provide different seating options. And their costumes, particularly Danford’s, reflect the changes in their lives, too, from youth and simplicity to a more New York style of sophistication.

The actors, who are married in real life and also currently starring in the Asolo Rep’s Searching for Eden, actually seem less chemically right for each other than you might expect in this show, but perhaps that’s because of their characters’ own issues. Danford sings her songs with ease (the pair only has one number where they’re singing directly to teach other); Osheroff struggles a bit with the tempo and the range of some of his, especially early on, although he delivers emotionally on tunes like The Schmuel Song and I Could Never Rescue You.

But it’s hard to come out of The Last Five Years unaffected; Brown’s beautiful music and the story the lyrics tell are just too touching and true. The production continues through Feb. 28; call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Monday, January 18, 2010

The Marvelous Wonderettes

Take a trip back in time with the Golden Apple's Marvelous Wonderettes.

By Kay Kipling

It’s always easy to tell ourselves the good old days were much simpler, happier times, and that certainly is the case with the Golden Apple Dinner Theatre’s current production of The Marvelous Wonderettes. Never mind the Cold War or the various social revolutions of the 1960s; this musical revue with lots of well-remembered songs can make you believe there was nothing more serious than the occasional spat between girlfriends taking place in those halcyon days.

The show, written and directed by Roger Bean, has been a hit elsewhere, and it’s easy to see why. Bean has tied together a slew of songs, from Dream Lover to It’s My Party to Mr. Sandman to Respect, with a slight but affectionate storyline about four girls performing on prom night and then, in Act II, at their 10-year high school reunion. Their characters are differentiated just enough to give the actresses portraying them something to hang their hats on.

Sarah Farnam, Heather Kopp, Kyle Turoff and Samantha Barrett in The Marvelous Wonderettes.

There’s Suzy (Samantha Barrett), the ditsy, gum-chewing blonde whose heart belongs to the boy running the lights for the dance; Missy (Sarah Farnam), the good-girl-nerd wearing glasses, who has a secret yen for a teacher; Cindy Lou (Heather Kopp), the flirt who’s always got a guy in her sights; and Betty Jean (Kyle Turoff), the brassy bigmouth who’s also supposed to be Cindy Lou’s best friend—until a man comes between them.

The actresses are well matched to their roles; and, in the tradition of musical revues, each gets a chance to shine on some good vocal material solo as well as together. At times it becomes obvious that their voices are really more suited to stage musicals than singing pop numbers, but they succeed despite that, occasionally letting it rip with renditions of more soulful songs like Son of a Preacher Man or (Love is Like A) Heatwave.

The show’s choreography, by Dewayne Barrett, is simple and sometimes intentionally awkward, as befits four girls who love to perform but were pressed into service at the last minute (to replace the boys’ glee club members, one of whom was caught smoking). Likewise, the costumes (by Dee Richards) bear a deliberate homemade look. And the wigs—well, you could write a whole paragraph about the wigs, but it’s best if you just see them for yourself.

Frequently bouncy and always good fun, in the hands of director Larry Raben The Marvelous Wonderettes is a welcome evening of light, nostalgic entertainment. The show continues through Feb. 21; for tickets call 366-5454 or visit thegoldenapple.com.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

I Am My Own Wife

Tackling multiple characters with one actor in Venice Theatre's I Am My Own Wife.

By Kay Kipling

Certain people play a highly individual role in history, and judging from the play I Am My Own Wife, now at Venice Theatre’s Stage II, Charlotte von Mahlsdorf was one of them. A transvestite born in Berlin in the late 1920s, he/she lived through both the Nazi regime and the Communist rule of East Germany, all the while saving and acquiring for a personal museum objects from a golden age of German living that lasted from about 1870 to 1900.

Von Mahlsdorf treasured those objects above all else—including, apparently, human relationships—and the opening of Doug Wright’s award-winning play shows her (Jeremy Heideman) carefully displaying some of them to the audience and explaining their place in her collection. But although Charlotte speaks quietly, while frequently fingering the pearls she wears around her neck, this is no dull history lesson; she has lived through dramatic world changes in her own way, and it is up to Heideman to present not only Charlotte but a host of other characters in this one-man show—from SS officers and prison guards to her own brutal father, American soldiers and the playwright himself.

That requires what are often lightning quick changes of both body language and vocal styles, as Heideman makes transitions of gender, nationality and personality. While Wright’s play seldom rises to great dramatic heights, there is something about I Am My Own Wife and Charlotte that lingers with you after the curtain. She is far from a simple character, as the playwright comes to discover in his interviews with and research about her; like any of us, she has depths and secrets and is neither wholly one thing or another, in more ways than just her sexuality.

Heideman, as directed by Allan Kollar, does an impressive job of making those transitions without being bravura about it; while Charlotte has the most stage time, he makes other people in the play come to life, too, especially a homosexual colleague who ends up in prison under the East German regime. And the set, by Kirk V. Hughes, makes a convincing repository of the old lamps, clocks and curios that Charlotte loves.

I Am My Own Wife continues through Jan. 24; call 488-1115 or go to venicestage.com for tickets.

Friday, January 08, 2010

Sugar Babies

Burlesque is back with the Manatee Players' Sugar Babies.

By Kay Kipling

In tough times like these, the thirst for nostalgia runs deep. That was probably true back in 1979, when the musical revue Sugar Babies bowed on Broadway, and it’s certainly true now, as the Manatee Players present their own production of this fond look back at the genre of burlesque.

Now, we’re not talking strippers, so don’t get concerned. Although Sugar Babies, as conceived by Ralph G. Allen and Harry Rigby, does stay true to the roots of burlesque with scantily clad chorus girls, some risqué business and a lot of double entendres, there’s nothing rated R about it. It’s good old-fashioned, slightly dirty fun.

It all starts off with the Top Banana, as played by Dan Higgs, reminiscing about those burlesque shows of yesteryear and how he’d love to see one again. And then we get exactly that: a show with old songs by Jimmy McHugh, Dorothy Fields and Al Dubin (I Feel a Song Coming On, Don’t Blame Me) interspersed with classic comic bits featuring stock characters like a teacher and her troublesome students, a nurse and some worried patients, a judge faced with a woman accused of killing her husband, etc. There’s no storyline, it’s just entertainment.

And it is entertaining to watch an octet of winsome sugar babies (whose grandparents probably weren’t even alive for the heyday of burlesque), tapping and posing in a variety of costumes (by Deborah Kelly Winn) designed to show off their best features and summon up the style of the era. They, and Higgs, are the show’s best assets. Higgs, a veteran of local and other stages, has just the right comic timing and audience rapport needed for his role; he’s a treat to watch, especially when dolled up in drag as the long-suffering, would-be glamorous Hortense or playing that lascivious judge who has trouble with names.

While he’s clearly the big draw here, other performers have their moments, too. Marisa R. Nelson may not be able to hold a candle to dancer Ann Miller, who starred in the original (who could?), but she sings well enough and is a good comic foil, whether playing it straight or playing along. Steve Jaquith looks the part of the Juvenile, with slicked-back hair and a clean-cut boyish face; he’s not bad in the singing department, either. As the Soubrette, Devin Shoemaker has some trouble sustaining her notes while also executing her moves, but she’s appealing and attractive. The show’s other male cast members, frequently drooling over the sugar babies, are more game than accomplished performers. But Cory Boyas’ direction gets the most out of every bit of shtick he can.

Sugar Babies continues through Jan. 24; for tickets call 748-5875 or go to manateeplayers.com.

Thursday, January 07, 2010

Blue/Orange

A look at the politics of mental illness with the FSU/Asolo Conservatory's Blue/Orange.

By Kay Kipling

The FSU/Asolo Conservatory’s production of Joe Penhall’s Blue/Orange is billed as a comedy, and indeed there are many sharp satirical moments to be enjoyed. But as with any good satire, there are important dramatic points being made here as well, in the story of a young mental health patient caught up in Britain’s National Health system.

That patient is a black man, Chris (Will Little), who bounds onto the stage (an institutional-looking set, with a bowl of oranges on a table in the center the only real color to speak of, and therefore highlighted) with great energy and excitement. He’s convinced that after 28 days in the hospital for evaluation and treatment, he’s going home. His young doctor (Dane Dandrige Clark) is not so sure; he thinks Chris’ problems may warrant a longer stay. In fact, he thinks Chris may be a schizophrenic, one of the most serious and devastating psychiatric diagnoses that can be made, and one that in this case carries with it some heavy racial baggage.

His supervisor, an older doctor (Kenneth Stellingwerf), disagrees, at first in a smoothly patronizing way and, eventually, with a great deal more anger and manipulative behavior. His reason initially appears to be practical only: The hospital bed is needed for someone else, and 28 days is all Chris is going to get. But as the argument between the two professionals escalates, leaving Chris squarely in the middle, we discover other possible motives for his adamancy: He has a theory about ethnocentricity he’s trying to publish and Chris is a good research subject. As well, there seems to be the simple malevolent pleasure of wanting to inflict humiliation on his younger colleague, who himself is desperate to ensure a more secure future for himself.

Will Little and Kenneth Stellingwerf in Blue/Orange.

As directed by Barbara Redmond, the back-and-forth between the doctors is quickly paced and high-tension, with all the speed and accuracy of a professional ping-pong match. Chris may be the ball in between, but while troubled and confused (he thinks he’s the son of a certain deposed African dictator), he’s also smart and defensive enough to resent his role in the debate. Little has a good lower-class British accent (his character is from Shepherd’s Bush) as opposed to the more polished ones of his helpers/tormentors, and his physical energy and movements are convincing for his character, too. Stellingwerf and Clark are both up to their tasks as well, but in an overlong Act II the power of their confrontation begins to pall somewhat; we’ve gotten the message by then and, like Chris, just want to get out of the room.

Blue/Orange continues through Jan. 24 at the Cook Theatre; for tickets call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Bridge & Tunnel

American stories from every corner of the globe in FST's Bridge & Tunnel.

By Kay Kipling

If you’ve ever doubted that the immigrant story is the story of America, you’ll find ample proof in Florida Studio Theatre’s current production (at the Gompertz Theatre) of Sarah Jones’ award-winning Bridge & Tunnel.

The title of the play (being staged for the first time in a regional production after its New York success) comes from the name of the decidedly downscale “theater” in “beautiful south Queens” where an annual poetry celebration is being held. All of the poets we see presenting their work, though, are portrayed by one actress, in this case Karen Stephens in one of those tour-de-force performances audiences tend to give (deserved) standing ovations.

Stephens first bounds onto the stage as the Pakistani-born Mohamed, accountant by day, would-be comedian by night; his lame jokes are just passable enough to make the transitions between one performer and another go quickly. Mohamed has concerns about an investigation that he’s a target of (as we learn in a phone call from his worried wife, reminding us without overdoing it how the world of immigrants has changed since 9/11), but they are kept in the background. He’s really more intent on moving the show along so that all of the other characters Stephens portrays have their turn on stage.

Those characters range from a Jewish grandmother from Long Island to the high-spirited Gladys from Jamaica to an angry Vietnamese-American young man (and yes, it’s the American part of that hyphenate that is accentuated with every one of the diverse minorities represented here).We also meet a young Mexican man, the wheelchair-bound Juan Jose, who tells a passionate story of his love for a young woman and his journey to this country; an older Chinese-American mother struggling to accept that her daughter is a lesbian; and another woman from Jordan, a professor who fondly recalls how the Beatles influenced her back in the 1960s.

Karen Stephens in one of her many roles in Bridge & Tunnel.

But I don’t want to tell you every story here; you need to discover them yourself, as Stephens makes the swift and subtle changes from male to female, young to old, across a wide spectrum of accents and experiences. Some characters will resonate with you more than others; that’s to be expected. But the general reminder one takes away from this 90-minute show (performed without intermission) is familiar but important: We were all immigrants once, and we and our country are richer for the life stories, traditions and heritages immigrants bring.

Bridge & Tunnel continues through Feb. 13; for tickets call 366-9000 or go to floridastudiotheatre.org.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Searching for Eden

It's back to that famous Garden with the Asolo Rep's Searching for Eden.

By Kay Kipling

When Venice Theatre presented a production of The Apple Tree earlier this season, it was a refreshing reminder of the piece that inspired it, Mark Twain’s humorous, touching The Diaries of Adam & Eve. Now comes yet another, frequently enchanting look at that primal couple, with James Still’s Searching for Eden on the Asolo Rep mainstage.

The curtain opens on a set that approximates a child’s view of the Garden of Eden: a big, center stage tree overflowing with ripe apples, cardboard cutouts of a lion and a tiger, well-deployed greenery and mountains in the background, etc. That’s appropriate since our Adam (Sam Osheroff) and Eve (Kris Danford; the pair happens to be married in real life) are children, for better or worse. Neither one has any previous experience to draw on in forming a relationship to the world around them or to each other, and it’s not surprising that their road to connection is a rocky one.

Sam Osheroff and Kris Danford in the Asolo Rep's Searching for Eden.

Adam, typical male, prefers to be alone, laid-back and not bothered with a talkative partner; Eve, typical female, is lively and upbeat and needs to have someone to talk over her discoveries with. She’s especially good at coming up with new words for previously undefined things, a trait that drives Adam wild but is very entertaining as we see Danford test driving new sounds until she comes up with just the right one. Well, usually the right one; she calls the spectacular moon that hangs over the set “moo” because that’s what a cow said to her when asked what it was.

When we first see Eve she’s splashing about in a small onstage pool, and she and Adam are wearing flesh-colored costumes to resemble nudity. As we know they will, the pair gradually, tentatively, forms a bond; and it’s fun to watch the spirit and energy with which Osheroff and Danford approach their roles and each other. One also appreciates Melissa Kievman’s intuitively right direction here.

Act II is Still’s invention, placing the couple in middle age 2,000 years later on a vacation getaway at the resort (named “E”) that has replaced the Garden of Eden from which they were cast out after that fatal apple incident. Now, the duo finds themselves working too hard at their careers and on their cell phones to find time for each other; will they be able to recapture the intimacy that kept them together during their long exile?

While this setup allows for some interesting possibilities, Act II doesn’t necessarily fulfill them all. We’re glad to see these two find some happiness, but not exactly sure how they got there. And issues are raised (take the whole Cain and Abel thing, for example) that are dealt with too quickly and unsatisfactorily. The very last scene is also abrupt, though it still has impact.

But Osheroff and Danford are so engaging, and the questions they ask of themselves at the beginning—“Who am I?” “Where am I?” “Where do I fit in?”—so timeless and true, that most audiences will find Searching for Eden, by and large, a delight. It continues in rotating rep through Feb. 25; call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Monday, December 14, 2009

The Life of Galileo

The Asolo Rep's Life of Galileo provides much food for thought.

By Kay Kipling

We don’t often see works by German playwright Bertolt Brecht on Sarasota stages (thinking back, it’s hard to recall the last time), so for theater lovers it’s quite an occasion to watch his Life of Galileo on the Asolo Rep’s mainstage—a first-time ever local production of this work about the famed Italian natural philosopher-astronomer. That the play is considered by many to be Brecht’s most autobiographical work adds to the draw.

Director Michael Donald Edwards and his design team have taken a bold approach to staging this piece, which covers decades in the career of the man who lived for science but was forced to recant his theories about the place of the earth and sun in our solar system by the Catholic Church during Inquisition days. The set is mostly bare bones, with the exception of some impressive large-scale projections by Dan Scully that capture our attention; the costumes are mostly contemporary rather than period (again with a few exceptions); and the dialogue (in a new translation by David Edgar) is filled with thought-provoking discussions about science, religion and politics, raising questions that occupy us just as much today as they did in Galileo’s time.

The play opens with Galileo (Paul Whitworth, looking like a properly rumpled scientist-intellectual) discussing his research with a young student (Owen Teague) whose mother (Carolyn Michel) also happens to be Galileo’s factotum. Galileo can hold forth brilliantly on the subjects he cares passionately about, but he has other less appealing traits. He can be a bit of a scamp, one given to creature comforts and thus not averse to trickery when his finances call for it; and he places his work above anything else in life, including the happiness of his daughter, Virginia (Hannah Rose Goalstone), who falls in love with a prosperous young Italian (Ghafir Akbar) but is destined to have her heart broken.

Paul Whitworth and Owen Teague in the Asolo Rep's Life of Galileo.

Galileo’s scientific pursuits put him in direct conflict with the teachings of the Catholic Church, typified by a smoothly manipulative Cardinal Inquisitor (Jason Bradley) and a well-read cardinal-turned-Pope (Douglas Jones), who reluctantly agrees to turn him over to the Inquisition’s tender mercies. Galileo is no hero in this situation, but then how many of us would be?

The talk pours out of this constant thinker, and Whitworth is always entertaining as he traces the highs and lows of his journey. But don’t expect to find your heart as engaged as your mind here; other than Galileo himself, most of the characters don’t really register that strongly. They exist mostly as, well, satellites to the great scholar; even when daughter Virginia’s hope of a happy life is dramatically overturned, we quickly rush by it and on to the next scene in his story.

That may be Brecht’s own vision of a self-absorbed scientific genius (or playwright). But the production is also hurt more than helped by a couple of dance numbers (one with a hip-hop groove) that come off as jarring and add nothing to the otherwise often successful reminder of the timelessness of the issues the play centers on.

Still, as a stimulating opportunity for debate, The Life of Galileo is a bracing alternative to the lighter fare we most often see, especially at this time of year. It continues in rotating repertory through Feb. 17; call 351-8000 or visit asolo.org for tickets.

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

A Country Christmas Carol

The Players of Sarasota ring in the holidays with A Country Christmas Carol.

By Kay Kipling

When something is as lasting as Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, there’ll always be some new way to adapt and transform it. Case in point: the current Players of Sarasota production, A Country Christmas Carol (the title tells all about the show’s emphasis).

In this often lively rendition of the classic story of a miser visited by three ghosts on Christmas Eve, the flint-hearted banker, Scrooge (Doug Nelson), is mostly known to folks as Eb. In the year 1954, he’s managed to get his hands on most of the property around rural Marley County. As per the original, he’s also managed to make life miserable for everyone around him, including his long-suffering assistant, this time a female (and a widow) named Bobbie Jo Cratchit (Jennifer Baker); his hard-drinking nephew, Dwight (Chip Fisher); and the former owner of the hotel where he now resides, Lavinia (Phyllis Banks).

Christmas Eve in this musical version of the story coincides with the county talent show, so that’s an excuse for many of the songs, written by Albert Evans and Ron Kaehler. (Kaehler also wrote the book, which does on occasion quote more or less directly from Dickens.) Several of them are noteworthy; two tunes sung by Baker, A Golden Idol and God Bless Us, Everyone, sound as if they could easily turn up on a country radio station. And The Christmas Train, the most rousing song of the show as led by an inebriated but energetic Fisher, is one you could hum to yourself as you leave the theater as well.

Fisher and Baker are both well accustomed to taking the Players stage, and they’re in fine form as usual. Nelson also makes his mark as Scrooge, although the nature of the role often means he’s watching what others do, as his ghosts take him to various times and places. (Among the ghosts are longtime musician Betty Comora, believable as a wise old Christmas Past, and former city commissioner Ken Shelin, suitably hearty as Christmas Present.) Channing Weir, as Bobbie Jo’s smart daughter, Jane, again demonstrates impressive vocal and acting talent for a teen; Brandon Reid has some amusing moments as her son, Tim; and Mike Phelan in a host of roles carries the right country air.

There are some down sides to both the book (which takes too long to start telling the story and remains vague and superficial about Tim’s illness) and the production (which suffered a bit with set and technical issues the night I attended). But there is something that’s eternally funny and touching about this perennial Christmas tale, and this country version may tug at your heartstrings while also getting you to tap your feet.

A Country Christmas Carol has been extended to Dec. 20; call 365-2494 or go to theplayers.org for ticket info.

Tuesday, December 08, 2009

Annie

'Tis the season for a production of that perennial pleaser, Annie.

By Kay Kipling

As a theater critic who’s seen the Charles Strouse-Martin Charnin-Thomas Meehan musical Annie more times than I like to recall, I admit I wasn’t especially looking forward to seeing it again in its current production at the Manatee Players Riverfront Theatre. But maybe I was in the proper holiday spirit; I found myself feeling fond of this familiar but still fun show about that little orphan and her Daddy Warbucks.

That’s not to say the production is flawless. But let’s talk about the good stuff first. Good stuff, of course, includes that lineup of sure-fire songs, from It’s the Hard-Knock Life to Tomorrow to Easy Street and beyond. Good stuff also includes some strong performers in the cast. Annie herself is played by two different girls (all the orphans alternate on different days); the one I saw was Savannah Clair, and she had a natural Annie voice and seemed comfortable onstage (except perhaps at times when having to hold on tightly to dog Sandy). There’s also lively and entertaining work from Berry Ayers and Caitlin Longstreet as the “villains” of the piece, Rooster and Lily, and from Mark Netherly as the butler, Drake.

Steve Dragon has surprising authority as Warbucks; he makes you believe he could be a billionaire magnate used to getting his way. Megan Cox sings sweetly as his Girl Friday, Grace Farrell. And although Tamara Solum as orphanage mistress Miss Hannigan came on too strongly in the first scene (no need to shout quite that loudly), she made the most of her songs and comic opportunities later in the show.

Overall, the production definitely shows its roots in the cartoon-comic-strip world, both in the broadness of the performances (under the direction of Dewayne Barrett) and in the kind of off-kilter set design of Marc Lalosh. Where this Annie struggles to keep up with other Annies is in the production numbers; given the size of the stage and, perhaps, the dancing abilities of the ensemble cast, those who have seen the show in other venues are bound to be disappointed with what should be big rousers like N.Y.C. or I Think I’m Gonna Like It Here. And some may miss having live musicians in the pit; musical director Buzz Herron is in charge of an orchestrion machine instead.

But Annie still has charm, and it is the holidays, after all. The show continues through Dec. 23; call 748-5875 or go to manateeplayers.com.

Monday, December 07, 2009

The Perfume Shop

The Asolo Rep delivers a prize holiday package with The Perfume Shop.

By Kay Kipling

Romance and retail—who could ask for anything more from the holiday season? We get that happy mix with the Asolo Rep’s The Perfume Shop, an adaptation of the play by Miklos Laszlo that served as the model for such popular replicas as Little Shop Around the Corner, She Loves Me and You’ve Got Mail.

But this original, set in a Budapest parfumerie in 1937, has charms all its own. From the moment the curtain rises on Jeffrey W. Dean’s handsome two-story set of that shop, somehow magically evoking the time, place and mood of the story we’re about to see, we’re caught up in the fragrance of a special memory.

The main romantic storyline is familiar, of course: George Horvath (Jason Bradley) and Amalia Balash (Mackenzie Kyle) are warring workers at the parfumerie, unaware that they’ve been writing to each other as secret pen pals outside of the shop. But while they’re the central couple here, it’s really the ensemble effect of The Perfume Shop that makes it such a warm and enduring piece. Each member of the cast contributes to the atmosphere, especially Paul Whitworth as the shop owner, troubled by both the challenges of staying in business and, more importantly, by an unfaithful wife; Douglas Jones as Mr. Sipos, the philosophical yet worried longtime employee; Michael Joseph Mitchell, the caddish Mr. Kadar; and Ghafir Akbar, irresistible as self-important but basically good-hearted delivery boy Arpad.

Mackenzie Kyle and Jason Bradley in the Asolo Rep's The Perfume Shop.

Many little details ring true about The Perfume Shop, and much of the dialogue, when it speaks of hard times and the woes of shopkeepers, will seem especially relevant in today’s economy. (One can only dream of the type of personal service these shop workers routinely provided, but it’s nice to see someone getting a Christmas bonus). Director Peter Amster, assisted by the just right costumes of Virgil Johnson and lighting by Aaron Muhl, succeeds in casting a sort of spell over the period and the production.

And the two leads, Bradley and Kyle, are highly enjoyable together. His facial and physical reactions, especially when he first becomes aware of the true identity of his “Dear Friend,” are pricelessly comic. And she’s appealing despite—or perhaps because of—her indomitable nature.

The Perfume Shop is performed in three acts with two intermissions, but it never feels overlong, nor is it. The production continues in rotating repertory through April 1; for tickets call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Wednesday, December 02, 2009

Sister's Christmas Catechism

Time for a new comedy catechism lesson at the Golden Apple.

By Kay Kipling

Those who attended last summer’s Late Nite Catechism at the Golden Apple Dinner Theatre may want to head back over to the theater for a holiday-themed version of the show, Sister’s Christmas Catechism, now playing.

It’s a less consistently amusing but still entertaining package tying together a few Christmas carols, a little background on the Blessed Virgin Mary, a living Nativity scene and a hunt for the Magi’s gold, which mysteriously disappeared from that stable (and from all Biblical records) during the to-do attending the birth of the baby Jesus. This time around the tough but loving Sister, played by Colleen Moore, is giving her class these lessons prior to the Christmas party they’re all looking forward to, and yes, she is dispensing prizes/presents once again to those audience members who cooperate.

The audience may be part of the reason this version of the show feels milder and slighter. Interaction is so important to this comedy; and the night that I attended the crowd, while willing to be entertained, was smaller and less vocal than the night I saw Late Nite Catechism. Moore is also a different presence as Sister; at times she felt a bit hesitant, but she was also capable of delivering both a good punch line and a feeling of genuine warmth towards her “students.”

Definitely the highlight of the show (which is under two hours including intermission) is the second act’s re-creation of the Nativity scene, with audience members being coaxed into coming to the stage and having themselves adorned with crazy costumes made from mostly everyday items to become stable animals, shepherds and sheep, and of course the three kings, without whom there would be no mystery. Solving the ‘crime” of the missing gold almost feels like an afterthought compared to the logistics of getting all these people properly dressed and posed for their group shot. The “volunteers” all displayed good sportsmanship.

Sister’s Christmas Catechism continues through Dec. 27 at the Golden Apple; call 366-5454 or go to thegoldenapple.com.

Monday, November 23, 2009

The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee

Florida Studio Theatre spells success with Putnam County Spelling Bee.

By Kay Kipling

Watching a production of The 25^th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee (now onstage at Florida Studio Theatre) leads a critic to search for all sorts of cute, fun ways to write a review while spelling out words of praise. I’ll confine myself to one: W-I-N-N-E-R.

For those who haven’t seen this surprise off-Broadway and Broadway hit by William Finn and Rachel Sheinkin (with an original idea by Rebecca Feldman and additional material by Jay Reiss), Bee is a delight to discover. In a small-town school auditorium, six young students, each with his or her own stock of eccentricities, compete for the title of spelling bee champ. The event is overseen by several adults with quirks of their own: a former champ (Ashley Puckett Gonzales) who clings to the memory of her long-ago win; a by-the-book vice principal (Stephen Hope) with a secret; and a “comfort counselor” (Erick Pinnick, who escorts the losing spellers offstage with a hug and a juice box), for whom this day is part of his community service.

The adult actors here have no trouble pulling off the physical and emotional aspects of being middle-school-age kids. They look the part, from Logainne Schwartzandgrubenierre, the lisping, pig-tailed daughter of two gay dads (Rachel Cantor); to Leaf Coneybear, home-schooled and irresistibly goofy with his Superman cape and protective headgear (Christopher Totten); to William Barfee, pronounced “bar-fay” (Bruce Warren), who seems to have just about every disability known to man including a highly unpleasant personality but is blessed with a magic foot that helps him spell out words.

Bruce Warren, Ashley Puckett Gonzales and Stephen Hope in Bee.

Add the stereotypical Asian overachiever, Marcy Park (Robin Lee Gallo), the Boy Scout whose hormones are starting to interfere with his spelling abilities, Chip Tolentino (Kavin Panmeechao), and the adorable but neglected Olive Ostrovsky (Sarah Jane Mellen, who’s almost heart-breaking at times) and you’ve got a fair and very funny mix of characters. They’re joined by four volunteers from the audience who do their best to spell the words handed them by the vice principal (some of the funniest moments come from his wildly unhelpful sentences employing the chosen word) before they, too, depart with a juice box in hand.

Most of the songs (Pandemonium, My Unfortunate Erection) are lively and laugh-making, but one, The I Love You Song, centered on Olive, aims for the heart rather than the funnybone, and meets its mark. Each student in turn gets that moment of grappling with how to lose—a skill we all know will prove useful in later life.

The 25^th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee is a happy 90 minutes or so (without intermission) that should engage audiences in ways both personal and universal. It continues through Jan. 15; call 366-9000 or go to floridastudiotheatre.org for tickets.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Dirty Rotten Scoundrels

There's fun in fraud with Venice Theatre's Dirty Rotten Scoundrels.

By Kay Kipling

Unless you caught the touring production at Van Wezel a year or so ago, Venice Theatre’s current staging of the show Dirty Rotten Scoundrels is the first chance locals have had here to see this musical adaptation of two earlier comedy films. And it’s welcome fun.

As with the films, Bedtime Story and Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, this production introduces us to a couple of con men, Lawrence Jameson (Chris Caswell) and Freddy Benson (Douglas Landin), who are both working a stretch of the French Riviera (it’s really more of a fantasy land), reeling in their all-too-willing female victims with one line or another. Lawrence is older and sophisticated; Freddy is cruder and yet still successful to some extent, at least scaring up meal money with heart-rending stories of his grandmother’s operation, etc.

When the two meet, it’s cause for both competition and collaboration. Lawrence is willing to use Freddy to help get rid of a persistent oil heiress (Nicole Valentino) who thinks she’s going to marry him; in a frequently hilarious scene (All About Ruprecht), Freddy pretends to be Lawrence’s half-wit brother, a slobbering, disgusting loser any woman in her right mind would run away from. But when a possible new mark comes to their playground (Gianna Campo as “soap queen” Christine Colgate), the town just may not be big enough for the both of them, as each tries to move in for the kill.

Throw in a do-gooder American with money (Kim Kollar) who’s been one of Lawrence’s most devout believers and a chief of police (David P. Brown) who’s been his accomplice, and you have a promising bag of comic characters and situations.

Under the direction and choreography of Brad Wages and the musical direction of Rick Bogner, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels has its occasional slower moments and some ragged dancing in ensemble numbers; but it also has some sharply timed humor and nicely executed performances from its leads. Caswell has demonstrated his talents on local theater stages for years, and he’s successful here again as a man with more than one side to him. Campo has the right wide-eyed exuberance as Christine, and Valentino scores big with her country-themed number, Oklahoma. Kollar and Brown lend steady support throughout; and David Yazbek’s score offers a lively mix of low-down and dirty (Great Big Stuff), over-the-top funny (Love Is My Legs) and more typical Broadway ballads (Love Sneaks In).

But it’s Douglas Landin as Freddy who is the biggest surprise here. Landin has done shows at VT before, but after seeing him most recently in Stage II’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? as amoral climber Nick, who would have guessed he could be so broadly and vulgarly entertaining? His numbers alone are worth the price of admission.

Dirty Rotten Scoundrels continues through Dec. 6; call 488-1115 or visit venicestage.com for tickets.

Monday, November 09, 2009

Nunsense

Yukking it up with those crazy sisters in the Manatee Players' Nunsense.

By Kay Kipling

By now, Dan Goggin’s ever-popular Nunsense might seem like a show that can run on its own—a smoothly functioning, automatic laughs-getting machine. In reality, it’s like any other play in that it still can be done in if the cast and director don’t do their jobs well.

But no fear of that with the Manatee Players’ current production, which boasts five talented actresses who, with the help of an assistant stage manager/actor, choreographer-director Bob Trisolini and musical director Michelle Kasanofsky, keep the evening lively and fun despite its familiarity.

It’s hard to believe at this point that there’s anyone who doesn’t know the tale of the Little Sisters of Hoboken, which has surely made Goggin a fortune over the past three decades with production after production, but here goes: Sister Mary Regina, the Mother Superior (Jeanne Larranaga), Sister Mary Hubert (Cara Herman), Sister Robert Anne (Stephanie Woodman-Costello), Sister Mary Amnesia (Ellie Pattison) and Sister Mary Leo (Libby Fleming) are putting on a show at the Mt. Saint Helen’s School auditorium to raise money they desperately need to bury some unfortunately poisoned members of their order. (Blame Sister Julia, Child of God, the convent cook.)

Naturally, not everything runs as smoothly as it’s hoped, partly because of Sister Robert Anne’s relentless drive to get into the spotlight at all costs, partly because of the diminished mental capacities of Sister Mary Amnesia (Ellie Pattison manages to get laughs without even opening her mouth; her facial expressions alone are priceless). But you can count on those tap dancing, joke-telling nuns to pull it off.

Since the show has been around for such a long time now, there’s a little new material thrown in for updating purposes (references to a VCR are replaced by ones to a laptop computer, etc.) and some staging is slightly different than I remember it (I missed Sister Robert Anne’s arrival on a bicycle when she enters to music from The Wizard of Oz).

On the night I attended, Larranaga struggled a bit early on with line hesitation and too much nervous laughter, but she was fine in her solo moments, especially the still hilarious “Rush”-sniffing scene. Woodman-Costello is well cast as the tomboyish, energetic Robert Anne; Fleming is suitably naïve and earnest as Mary Leo; and Herman gets to dig deep for her rendition of the show’s rousing closer Holier Than Thou. All in all, this Nunsense delivers what the title promises.

Nunsense continues at the Manatee Players Riverfront Theatre through Nov. 15; for tickets call 748-5875 or go to manateeplayers.com.

Wednesday, November 04, 2009

La traviata

Doomed true love and sacrifice in the Sarasota Opera's La traviata.

By Kay Kipling

As a theater critic, I must admit that the world of opera has always seemed a very different one to me, more foreign (not only in the language) and harder to surrender to. But I’m learning.

In the case of the Sarasota Opera’s current production of La traviata, it’s a little easier than it might be, because the storyline is so familiar from other versions of this Woman Gone Astray archetype; and some of the music is very familiar, too (such as Act I’s famous drinking song). Certainly under Martha Collins’ stage direction and Victor DeRenzi’s conductor’s baton, it’s not at all hard to follow the simple, sad tale of Violetta Valery, a doomed courtesan (TB and all that) who falls in love with young Alfredo Germont.

That love, as is the way with operas, seems to develop in a moment, when the two meet at a party at Violetta’s home. True, Alfredo has been a faithful admirer for some time, constantly checking on her troubled health for months; but it’s only at this soiree that Violetta and he really interact and she is persuaded to give up her outwardly gay but shallow life of rich lovers and Euro trash and devote herself to one man alone.

Of course, there’s trouble in paradise; once the pair have set up housekeeping out in the country, Alfredo’s father, Giorgio, arrives to demand that Violetta leave him, so that the young man’s sister’s impending nuptials won’t be derailed by her proximity to a fallen woman. And Violetta is bound to nobly rise to the occasion, no matter the cost to herself.

I found this production of La traviata a pleasure to look at; the sets by David Gano and the costumes (coordinated by Howard Tsvi Kaplan) felt opulent and authentic. DeRenzi’s conducting was assured, and Marco Nistico’s performance as the father was strong both vocally and dramatically.

As the lovers, Lina Tetriani and Edgar Ernesto Ramirez didn’t stir me emotionally; they felt stiff together, although their singing was frequently impressive. Part of that may have been due to the way they were positioned on the stage, singing toward the audience rather than to each other; and part of it may have been (let’s face it) that Alfredo is a problematic character—a callow young man it’s hard even to imagine in the grips of a grand passion.

On the night I attended, there was an unfortunate and unexpected plumbing problem in the opera house that evidently required immediate attention during Act I, nearly ruining a crucial duet between the lovers. No such problem in the Act II pairing between Violetta and Giorgio, as he pleaded with her to do the “right” thing; the scenes between these two resonate more than the ones between her and Alfredo.

Only three more performances of La traviata are scheduled; call 366-8450 or go to sarasotaopera.org for tickets.

Monday, November 02, 2009

November

Venice Theatre's Stage II gets satirical with David Mamet's November.

By Kay Kipling

Those David Mamet fans who head to see his November, currently playing at Venice Theatre’s Stage II, may come away feeling they didn’t get their full Mamet’s worth. While there are some good one-liners and the snap of that usual rapid Mamet dialogue, the evening doesn’t deliver his frequently powerful punch.

The show starts promisingly enough: President Charles Smith (Daniel Greene) is facing the end of his hugely unsuccessful first term in office and bemoaning the fact that no one wants to vote for him in his imminent re-election campaign. “What is it about me people don’t like?” he whines to his aide, Archer Brown (William Czarniak). “That you’re still here,” comes the quick reply.

Smith has more to contend with: a wife who keeps interrupting him with calls on the Oval Office phone, fears that his presidential library—and thus his legacy—won’t ever get off the ground, and the representative of the National Association of Turkey and Turkey By-Products Manufacturers (Paul Mullen) who’s waiting outside his office trying to get his turkeys pardoned for Thanksgiving. Oh, and that’s not to mention his lesbian speechwriter (Candace Artim), who’s both sneezing up a storm after a recent trip to China to adopt an orphan and nagging him to marry her to her life partner, illegal or not.

It all sounds like ripe fodder for political satire, and there some zingers that land. Greene and Czarniak have a good rhythm going with their back-and-forth attempts to find a way to turn a profit amid the chaos, while Artim could use a drier, more sarcastic delivery rather than the rote style she consistently employs.

But in the end November feels like an uncertain mix; you’re never really all that sure exactly how you’re supposed to feel about any of these people. Are they just buffoons? Or are we supposed to feel a sneaking sympathy in the end for the president, who may not be quite as bad as he seems? (Lest you think he’s a stand-in for a certain recent inhabitant of the White House, recorded quotes from other previous office holders before the curtain and before Act II remind us that they’ve all had feet of clay).

One aspect of the production that impresses is the set by Donna Buckalter, which convincingly represents the Oval Office (the audience sits in the round on the other side of a red velvet rope), complete with flags, rug, family photos, historic paintings and all the telephone paraphernalia you’d expect. It’s also a nice touch that audience members enter through a security setup like those at any airport; you may find yourself setting off the detector.

November continues through Nov. 15; call 488-1115 or visit venicestage.com.

Friday, October 30, 2009

Red Hot Operetta

The Players try something different with the pastiche Red Hot Operetta.

By Kay Kipling

Apparently Players fans love their operettas (it’s said they frequently request them to be performed), and perhaps that’s true, no matter what adulterated form this brand of musical theater takes.

So Players artistic director Jeffery Kin tried something different with this show, which he wrote and conceived. It’s not any one operetta; instead, he’s stitched together bits and pieces from several Gilbert and Sullivan works, with nods to The Desert Song, The Student Prince and other well-known pieces by other composers as well. It’s not a revue, exactly, since he also tries to string together a plot line: The dreaded Pirates of Penzance, headed by the Pirate King (Randy Garmer, having a field day), abduct several female characters (Ruth, Buttercup and Josephine—sound familiar, G&S lovers?); and their menfolk (including the Captain, Sir Joseph and Ralph Rackstraw) spend the rest of the show trying to get them back, on an across-the-globe journey that takes them to many places including the Orient (after all, we have to get The Mikado in there, too).

It’s outlandish, although perhaps not much more outlandish than some of the plots of the “real” operettas the show is based on, if you think about it. There are advantages to this idea: First, the Players spend less money on rights and production values (it looks like they raided the theater’s closets for costumes from past productions); second, it does give several of the show’s best singers a chance to demonstrate what they can do on certain lovely and familiar melodies. (Although the visiting singers from Key Chorale, seated near the wings, are rather wasted here.)

There are also occasional clever bits of business, with winks and nods to the audience about the silliness of it all. Kin and director Jack Eddleman have assembled a good team here; musical director Joyce Valentine is a stalwart who goes above and beyond the call of duty, and the show is made more appealing throughout by the sprightly yet simple choreography of veteran Jimmy Hoskins.

Which is hardly to say that Red Hot Operetta is an undiluted pleasure. The cast works hard, and there are energetic and generously broad performances by Tanya Lewis, Susan Cole and Kaylene McCaw as the kidnapped ladies, among others.

But you wouldn’t feel as if you’d missed anything if you had to step out for an extended bathroom break. To be honest, you wouldn’t feel as if you’d missed anything if you skipped the show altogether. Red hot? I’m afraid it’s rather tepid.

Still, if you really have to have a helping of operettish music, and if you really love your Players Theatre, Red Hot Operetta continues through Nov. 8. Call 365-2494 or go to theplayers.org.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

The Mystery Plays

Two tales of horror in the FSU/Asolo Conservatory's The Mystery Plays.

By Kay Kipling

For FSU/Asolo Conservatory audiences, this time of year has lately provided not only the first opportunity to see most of the second-year MFA students in action onstage, it’s also provided a few Halloween chills. Murder by Poe was the Conservatory’s opening production a couple of seasons ago; this time around it’s Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa’s The Mystery Plays—two one-act plays with a theme of traveling between two worlds.

The first journey, The Filmmaker’s Mystery, takes place initially on a train headed south to Virginia from New York. A young director (well, with one film to his credit) is headed home for the Christmas holidays and strikes up a conversation with his seatmate, a friendly and apparently successful neurologist; before much time elapses, they’ve made plans to meet for brunch on New Year’s Day. But then the mystery begins: The director feels himself inexplicably called to step off the train at a station, and the train goes on to explode, killing all aboard. Haunted by survivor guilt, he’s also haunted by something more: the ghost of his seatmate, whose story is much darker and more complicated than the one he had told.

Kenneth Stellingwerf and Dane Dandrige Clark in The Mystery Plays.

The second piece, Ghost Children, tells the tale of a young lawyer (who happens to be acquainted with the filmmaker), who’s also headed home, this time to a small Oregon town, again around the holidays. But this is no happy homecoming: 16 years earlier, a horrific triple murder (of her parents and sister) changed her life forever, and now her older brother—the murderer—is asking for her help from prison. Can she step back into the abyss of that awful night of the killings and somehow find it in herself to forgive him?

The playwright sprinkles both works (especially the first) with names and allusions fans of horror will appreciate; there are nods to the works of writer H.P. Lovecraft, the classic Hitchcock film Strangers on a Train, etc. And as the title of the production suggests, he’s also looking back to an older tradition: the medieval mystery plays where issues of death, redemption and sin are addressed. But he has his own more contemporary style, too; and whenever the subject matter or the tone feels that it’s becoming too portentous, he leavens it with unexpected humor or a shift in direction.

Under Greg Leaming’s direction, the ensemble Conservatory cast slips convincingly from playing one character to another, with age discrepancies not causing any serious distraction. Dane Dandrige Clark as the film maker and Kim Hausler as the sister in search of peace have the most prominent roles, but there are also good turns by Kenneth Stellingwerf as the stranger on the train and Angela Sauer as a hard-boiled, fast-talking agent (is there any other kind?)

You may find the first play more scary; the second more emotionally involving. But each is intriguing—shall we even say haunting?—in its way. The Mystery Plays continues through Nov. 15 at the Cook Theatre; call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Contact

By Kay Kipling

The Asolo Repertory Theatre and the Sarasota Ballet’s eagerly awaited collaboration on their season opening production of the Tony Award winner Contact is finally here, and for those of us who wondered just how this hybrid would perform, the answer seems to be: pretty well.

After leading off previous seasons with more traditional musicals, like last year’s Barnum, the Asolo Rep decided to do something different this year, bringing to life this not-often-seen piece by Broadway choreographer Susan Stroman (with book by John Weidman). Let me be clear: The reason it’s not often seen has everything to do with the challenge of pulling off the demanding dance movements Stroman (and in this case her surrogate, director Tome Cousin) has staged while still telling compelling stories, and nothing to do with whether or not the work is artistically viable.

That it is “nontraditional” is obvious from the first in this two-act (but three-scene) musical, which does not rely on live musicians but rather on a wide range of recorded music. Contact opens with a piece called Swinging that’s based on a Fragonard painting of a girl on a swing. Here that girl is a delightfully giddy Ariel Shepley, who’s both coy and comic as she first plays the coquette with an aristocrat (Matt Baker) and then, when he goes off to find another bottle of wine, gets up to all kinds of things on that swing with an acrobatic servant (Sean Ewing).

That’s a short piece set to a Rodgers and Hart tune, My Heart Stood Still. Fittingly, perhaps, this amuse bouche is followed by a saltier course (think of it as an antipasto) served up in an Italian restaurant in 1950s Queens, where a nervous but engaging wife (Nadine Isenegger) and her tough guy (make that wise guy) husband (Asolo regular James Clarke) are having dinner. She tries anxiously to make conversation (this piece and the Act II scene do have dialogue as well as dance); all he cares about is snagging a dinner roll from one of the parade of waiters who dash through the dining room. “Don’t move,” he threatens her as he gets up to go the buffet; but she’s immediately on her feet, dancing out one fantasy after another set to music by Grieg and Tchaikovsky, with the enthusiastic participation of the headwaiter (the Sarasota Ballet’s Octavio Martin) and other customers. In this scene, Isenegger, who’s irresistible, is also high-flying and free--until her husband comes back.

The last piece of the evening (our main course), Contact, is the complex synthesis of the theme the overall show is addressing--the need for connection, for touch, between human beings--utilizing the whole cast in exhilarating swing numbers set to songs by the Squirrel Nut Zippers, Dion and the Beach Boys, among others. Contact also tells the most dramatic story, this one about a 40-ish director of commercials (Fletcher McTaggart), who’s finding his life empty despite some professional success. After picking up an award one evening, he heads back to his sterile Manhattan apartment, listens to his voicemails, and promptly tries to commit suicide in a variety of ways.

He’s foiled by complaints about noise from a downstairs neighbor and by a call from his agent that somehow leads him to a dance club where everyone but him is dancing up a storm. He wants to dance--desperately--especially after the knockout Girl in the Yellow Dress (Shannon Lewis, who nails the part) makes an appearance. He’s drawn to her, of course, like every other man in the club; but if he hopes to make any sort of connection with her he’s going to have to get out there and take a chance on the dance floor.

The ensuing struggle plays out with a lot of energetic dancing on the ensemble’s part and a lot of hesitation on his (a struggle that may be a bit repetitive, although the dancing is great). I won’t give away the ending, but chances are you, like me, saw it coming.

In addition to offering exciting dance numbers, a visual treat in much of the costuming (by William Ivey Long) and an intriguing cast made up of classically trained dancers, Broadway hoofers and some actors not known primarily for their footwork, Contact does, in the end, make a definite connection with its audience. Will that audience continue to come after opening night, for a show that’s a different animal than Asolo Rep crowds are used to seeing? We’ll know in a month’s time; the show runs through Nov. 22 on the mainstage.

For tickets call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Run for Your Wife/Caught in the Net

Two Ray Cooney farces double the trouble at the Golden Apple.

By Kay Kipling

When it comes to contemporary, knockabout British farce, Ray Cooney is the man with the reputation for bringing in the crowds and making them laugh. So it’s understandable that the Golden Apple Dinner Theatre would try a one-two punch during the slower early fall season with rotating productions of Cooney’s Run for Your Wife and Caught in the Net.

The first is a tried-and-true warhorse, the tale of a London cab driver desperately trying to hide the fact that he has two wives at once, in different parts of the city. The second is a sequel of sorts (although you don’t need to see the shows in order to get the gist of things) that finds that same cabbie, John Smith, still attempting to protect his secret, this time from his kids as well as his wives.

Some of the actors appear in both productions, and for the most part, they don’t look much different 17 years apart. (Ernest Weldon as Smith does acquire a sheen of gray hair.) While the more recent show, Caught in the Net, offers an update in technology concerning computers and the ever-important back-and-forth phone calls, it still relies on a lot of door slamming and banging, and the attitudes of the characters toward marriage, sex and bigamy haven’t changed much.

Caught does offer the novelty of the new, since it’s never been seen before locally. It also offers some youth, in the faces of Geena M. Ravella as Vicki and Ryan Lebar and Colton Herschberger (who will both play the role of young Gavin Smith during the show’s run). And it presents a classic British character in “Dad” (Richard LeVene in a nice turn), the brightly attired but slightly senile father of Smith’s upstairs neighbor, Stanley Gardner (Cliff Roles).

In fact, it’s Gardner/Roles who gets much of the good comedy action in Caught. Here as in Run for Your Wife, he’s the innocent bystander who gets tangled in Smith’s web of lies, which get increasingly stranger and less believable. And Roles has fun with becoming an ever more ridiculous figure during the proceedings.

On the nights I attended the shows, both Weldon and Roles occasionally had some line troubles (in Run for Your Wife, Roles and Berry Ayers as a policemen had one of those Tim Conway/Harvey Korman moments from the old Carol Burnett Show, where they pretty much broke down laughing at each other). In general, though, the cast does pretty well with all the nonsense, especially Leigh Anne Wuest, the much put-upon Smith wife No. 1, whose threshold of frustration grows quite convincingly.

The pacing needs to pick up in both productions, however. These shows have to whip right along to keep the audience too dizzy for even a moment’s yawn; and at this point in the run (Caught plays through Nov. 29, Run through Nov. 27), things still aren’t tight enough to maximize the laughs; there’s too much dead air.

For tickets to either show, go to thegoldeapple.com or call 366-5454.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Dance and More

Aszure Barton & Artists and Elevator Repair Service at Sarasota’s Ringling International Arts Festival.

By Kay Kipling

The Ringling International Arts Festival continues through Oct. 11, but I saw my final two shows with a double dance bill featuring Aszure Barton & Artists, presenting the world premiere of Busk, and OtherShore, a company offering a shorter piece titled The Snow Falls in Winter.

The first piece first: Snow features just five dancers, and begins, not with movement, but with words, as one of the performers reads aloud stage directions for the opening scene of a play. What the play is really supposed to be about we never know, but it involves, in varying formations, the actions between a professor, a young girl student and a maid. There’s a lesson of some sort going on, as dancers swap roles and read aloud or move to taped applause and other sounds, but I have to admit I was mystified by any larger meaning at work here; the whole thing reminded me a bit of Eugene Ionesco and the Theatre of the Absurd.

Not so with Busk, the longer piece that followed. Choreographer Barton has gained a name for herself over the last few years, and it’s easy to see why as we are quickly caught up with this new dance creation, which begins with a lone violin and a hooded black figure placing an upturned hat on the stage--we assume to hold coins, as buskers or street performers do. The black hooded sweatshirts are repeated on other dancers as they enter the stage throughout the piece; and certain movements are repeated, too, most notably the outstretched hand or the fingers rubbing together that signify asking for payment in return for the performance. A mixture of feelings is evoked with Busk; there are moments that feel religious, and certainly some of the music sounds liturgical. Other moments feel religious in a less conventional way; there’s a scene with a female dancer contorting her body in various ways that seem almost amphibian or primordial.

All of the dancers move with athletic assurance, and by the end the work builds to an energy-filled climax with a wild, klezmer-influenced dance performed by a female dancer attired something like a Greek goddess. I’m no modern dance critic, but I liked what I saw here.

I also attended the early evening performance of Elevator Repair Service’s The Sun Also Rises (First Part), a new work based on Ernest Hemingway’s modern classic about a group of American and British expatriates in Paris in the 1920s. Because this piece by the New York-based company is a workshop premiere, the press was asked not to review it. So I won’t, other than to say I certainly found Sun (which, like other ERS works, including interpretations of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby and William Faulkner’s The Sound and The Fury, is designed to present all the book’s words onstage) intriguing enough that I’d want to see the completed work whenever it’s done. That’s set for sometime next year.

For those who still have discoveries to make at this year’s inaugural festival, enjoy.

Friday, October 09, 2009

From Shakespeare to Sexy

Day Two of the Ringling International Arts Festival.

By Kay Kipling

Knowing that it wasn’t possible for me to see everything going on at this week’s Ringling International Arts Festival (although many festival goers can probably come pretty close), I had to pick and choose carefully. One event I knew I didn’t want to miss was Love is my sin, an adaptation of Shakespeare’s famous sonnets by long-acclaimed British director Peter Brook, whose work I had only seen before on film.

Although it had been a while since I’d dipped into reading the sonnets, there are several I still vividly remember from years ago, and at the very least it was good to hear them again, and to take note once more how often lines or phrases from them have turned up in other writers’ works. Those familiar lines were often given new life, too, by actors Michael Pennington and Natasha Parry, who clearly have given much study to Shakespeare’s words of love and loss.

The production, at the Historic Asolo Theater, is very simple: It begins with a strolling musician, Franck Krawczyk (who offers occasional brief musical interludes between sonnets), as the actors enter and take a seat. Sometimes they are facing us, sometimes each other; sometimes they share the reading of a sonnet, other times they’re more solo. The performance is divided into four sections: Devouring Time, Separation, Jealousy and Time’s Defeat, and many of the sonnets fit quite neatly into these categories.

There are a few moments of humor in Love is my sin, but overall the mood is an autumnal one, looking at lovers parting or unhappy in their suspicions of one another. The cast performs their roles with much feeling and finesse, but it’s probably a good thing the production only lasts about 50 minutes; any longer and some audiences might find the melancholy monotonous.

Quite a contrast was my second show of the day, the “post-post-modern cabaret diva” (as she’s billed), Meow Meow, performing Beyond Glamour: The Absinthe Tour. There was a lot of buzz about Meow Meow well before the festival started; everyone I talked to seemed eager to see her, and her press was glowing.

So does Meow Meow live up to her reputation? Certainly her show, about 75 minutes long, was entertaining and often unexpected. The artist blends lots of physical comedy and interaction with audience members with cabaret songs sung in several languages (including nonsense), and she shifts gears from absurd to touching with practiced skill. But Meow Meow is one of those cases where you don’t want o reveal too much of her act, which is probably somewhat different according to her audience and her mood, so I’ll say no more here except this: Audiences shouldn’t expect a traditional cabaret act, and any fledgling festival that can present the gravitas of Peter Brook’s interpretation of Shakespeare and the antics of Meow Meow in one day is probably off to a good start artistically.

Tomorrow: a look at the work of Aszure Barton with the world premiere of Busk.

Thursday, October 08, 2009

Ringling Festival Opening Night

A classical music concert kicks off the Ringling International Arts Festival.

By Kay Kipling

The inaugural Ringling International Arts Festival sprang to life last night with a reception in the Ringling Museum courtyard that featured food, music from Booker High’s Jazz Combo and circus performances by the Florida State University Flying High Circus, followed by the opening night concert in the Mertz Theatre.

Guests mingled in the courtyard despite the somewhat steamy October weather, many buzzing about the possibility of glimpsing Mikhail Baryshnikov, artistic director of the Baryshnikov Arts Center, which is partnering with the Ringling to present the festival. Among other celebrities to be seen were former state Sen. John McKay and wife Michelle (McKay was instrumental in bringing the festival to fruition) and Gov. Charlie Crist and his wife, Carole; Crist officially opened the festival with a few words thanking Baryshnikov for his “participation and kindness” and adding that it was “a great night for all of Florida and the arts.” A fireworks display over the bayfront followed the governor’s remarks.

Then it was on the Mertz for a concert of classical music featuring Atlanta Symphony Orchestra music director Robert Spano leading pianist Pedja Muzijevic in a masterful performance of Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 4 in G Major. I’m no reviewer of orchestral or classical music, but from where I sat in the upper mezzanine (just a few rows behind Mr. Baryshnikov) I had an excellent view of both Muzijevic’s hands at work and the beautiful piano he was playing. And I was impressed both with his rendition and the accomplishment of the Florida State University Symphony Orchestra backing him. I don’t know the average age of these FSU students in training (some looked quite young), but to my ears they were very musically strong.

A brief change of pace from Beethoven was provided with Nagoya Marimbas, an intriguing piece by Steve Reich that sounded to me a little New Age-y, a little like a jazzy flow of water, as performed by dueling marimbists Brian Baldauff and Luis Rivera. Then the orchestra took on Beethoven’s Fifth, and as accustomed as everyone is to hearing this famous symphony, I felt it was imbued with some fresh spirit thanks to the orchestra’s youth and energy.

A champagne and dessert reception in the museum’s visitor’s pavilion took place after the concert—a chance for patrons to actually mingle with the musicians who had just entertained them. It was also a chance to hear the stylings of Doc and the Ear-iginals, a local ensemble featuring Dr. Herbert Silverstein, among other musicians.

On my schedule today: Peter Brook’s Love is my sin and cabaret artist Meow Meow. I’ll report on those tomorrow.

Thursday, October 01, 2009

Bill Clinton in Sarasota

The Ringling College Library Association brings the former president to town.

By Kay Kipling

The Ringling College Library Association celebrated the start of its 30^th anniversary of bringing Town Hall guest speakers to Sarasota with quite a big catch: Former President Bill Clinton filled the Van Wezel Performing Arts Hall Wednesday night, addressing a crowd made up of Town Hall regulars, longtime Clinton supporters, high school students especially chosen to attend because of their community service work, and anyone else curious to hear what he had to say.

As befits a former president, Clinton’s talk was not really about politics; he chose to focus instead on his foundation and the initiatives he’s worked on since leaving office to effect change in the world at large. This was after making a few amusing welcoming remarks: “I’m glad to be here,” he said, but then, commenting on the discord of some recent town hall meetings and Sarasota’s reputation as a Republican community, added, “I was halfway scared to show up,” too.

Clinton mentioned that he had been to Florida “a zillion times’ during his campaigns, and had always wanted to come to Sarasota, the hometown of his longtime assistant, Doug Band, son of well-known Sarasotans David and Myrna. (Doug’s brother, Roger, is a doctor who also frequently accompanies Clinton on overseas trips to keep him healthy.) He went on to speak of the commitments, in both time and money, made by people from all walks of life through his various initiatives, which include the Clinton Economic Opportunity Initiative, the Clinton HIV/AIDS Initiative, the Clinton Climate Initiative and the Clinton Giustra Sustainable Growth Initiative.

The former president also touched on life as a politician, calling it “an honorable profession”; the need for a “civic society,” where individual private citizens, in addition to the public sector and private foundations, work to improve daily life in their communities; and how much he enjoys the new roles he and wife Hillary play, she as Secretary of State and he in his current mode as a private citizen serving in a different way. “The great thing about not being President is you can say whatever you want and no one really cares any more,” he joked, “unless your wife gets appointed Secretary of State. Then they care if you make a mistake.”

But Clinton spent much of his speech time talking about interdependence among the world’s nations and peoples, and how that can be either (or both) a good thing and a bad thing. “We’re stuck in a little boat on a big sea,” he said, “and we’re going up or down together” when it comes to issues of climate change, world poverty, lack of education and clean water and many other problems. In general, he said, we all have to deal with matters of inequality, instability and unsustainability in the world today. And to applause from the audience, he added, “Cynicism is a copout. It’s not an excuse for doing nothing.”

Clinton, who had played a round of golf earlier in the day and enjoyed a typical Sarasota sunset, took questions from Town Hall chair Olivia Thomas after his lecture, ranging from his advice to young people about choosing careers to the defining moment, as a teenager, when he decided on a life in politics, to what gives him joy today (“weekend walks with the Secretary of State, every single moment I can spend with my daughter,” including a recent visit to the Village Vanguard in Manhattan to hear Barbra Streisand). His next stop: Haiti, where he’s working on a plan to bring 500,000 people without electricity solar-powered lighting.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

The Apple Tree

The eternal story of men and women appears at Venice Theatre with The Apple Tree.

By Kay Kipling

It’s always intriguing to see something different on area stages—a piece not glimpsed before, or at least not for a very long time. Such is the case with Venice Theatre’s The Apple Tree, a trilogy of short plays with songs by Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick.

All three plays relate to love, the eternal bond between a man and a woman. The first is the longest and perhaps the best known; it’s taken from Mark Twain’s The Diary of Adam and Eve, and stars Brian Rudolph and Kathryn Ohrenstein as the first pair, learning about each other and the world around them in the Garden of Eden.

Set on a stage with a few cutouts for trees, flowers and later a rudimentary shelter, the Adam and Eve section retains much of the Twain charm. Adam is at first quite resistant to the interfering Eve, who’s much better at naming things than he is and also tends to talk more than he’d like. It isn’t long before she takes to interior decorating, too. But after a while, he admits, she’s becoming “an interesting creature” to him. Eventually, after the fall due to that snaky snake (Ryan Kimball Fitts) and the forbidden apple, they set up housekeeping outside of Eden and start to raise a family—even though both are initially quite puzzled as to just what sort of animal the first baby is.

Ohrenstein and Rudolph work well together here, alternating between funny moments and more bittersweet ones; you may find yourself surprisingly touched as the first act ends.

They’re back, with a few more cast members, to present Frank Stockton’s classic short story The Lady and the Tiger. This time out Ohrenstein plays a princess who’s torn between her passion for Captain Sanjar (Rudolph) and her jealousy; when their forbidden love is discovered by her father, the king, Sanjar is put to the famous test of choosing between two doors. Behind one lies a killer tiger; behind the other, the woman he must wed. Will the princess, who knows which is which, steer him toward death or let him find happiness with another? I won’t spoil the outcome here for those who haven’t read the story.

The last piece, Passionella, by Jules Feiffer, is perhaps the least successful of the three playlets, although Ohrenstein is charming as both a mousy chimney sweep named Ella and the glamorous movie star she eventually becomes, thanks to a sort of fairy godfather. This one feels dated (the musical originally bowed in 1966), and a bit confusing once Passionella’s love interest (again, Rudolph), enters the scene; he wears an Elvis-like pompadour, clothes and attitude, yet spouts the sort of protest lyrics of a young Bob Dylan.

Overall, though, as staged by director Dan Higgs and headlined by Ohrenstein and Rudolph, The Apple Tree is a pleasurable way to pass an evening. It continues through Oct. 18 at Venice Theatre; call 488-1115 or go to venicestage.com.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Hello, Dolly!/Anything Goes

Two classic musicals entertain local audiences.

By Kay Kipling

Both Sarasota’s Players Theatre and the Manatee Players have headed into September with an old warhorse of a musical: in the Players’ case, Cole Porter’s 1930s-era Anything Goes, and with the Manatee Players Riverfront Theatre, Jerry Herman’s 1964 perennial, Hello, Dolly! It’s a strategy that both makes sense (audiences love ’em) and invites comparisons (can they offer something you haven’t already seen umpteen times with these well-worn shows?)

Both productions have their strong points. Dolly, directed and choreographed by Ty Yadzinski, benefits from a talented and mostly experienced cast, along with some pleasantly nostalgic sets by Marc Lalosh. Dolly Gallagher Levi (Dianne Dawson) is a meddling matchmaker who’s decided that she’s ready to make a match for herself with that famous Yonkers half-a-millionaire, Horace Vandergelder (Cliff Cespedes). And once Dolly makes up her mind, get out of her way; she’ll stop at nothing to see that she and everyone else, including Vandergelder’s trodden-upon clerks (played by Steve Dawson and Zachary Vance Hlavec), his always weeping niece and her artist beau (Joy Lakin and Jordan Martin) and two single New York milliners (Tina Gilbert and Caitlin Longstreet) find happiness.

The elements are all there to provide familiar fun, but on the night I saw Dolly it felt a little subdued, not as lively as it could be. Dawson always sings and moves with accomplished ease; she’s bright and in charge, but her Dolly doesn’t add much to our established images of the role. Cespedes is right for the grumpy Horace (although he had some line troubles this particular night), but it’s only near the end of the show that he and Dawson really get to interact for much comic satisfaction. We get more zest out of those clerks on the loose in New York and the perky performance of Longstreet as Minnie Fay.

Yadzinski has trimmed the show a little, eliminating the Motherhood March number, but Put on Your Sunday Clothes and Elegance remain well-executed crowd pleasers. The Act I closer, Before the Parade Passes By, isn’t as buoyant or inspiring as one expects, however.

At the Players, Anything Goes certainly has its buoyant moments in its tale of all kinds of shenanigans aboard an ocean liner (impressively represented on the Players’ expansive stage by scenic artists Matthew Nitsch and John C. Reynolds). Most notable: the title tune tapfest that closes Act I; it’s exhilarating enough to make you wish you were up there onstage, too.

There’s also fun to be had thanks to public-enemy-on-the-loose Moonface Martin (Berry Ayers), the requisite Brit twit (played with relish by Mike Phelan) and flamboyant nightclub singer Reno Sweeney (Jennifer K. Baker, who adds to her roster of spirited performances here after last season’s Little Women and Spitfire Grill). But there’s also some ennui onboard; this version of Anything Goes is based on the 1987 revival, and in this production at least, more (in the sense of added songs and dance numbers) is not necessarily better. The cardboard plot (mostly to do with whether debutante Hope Harcourt and her penniless admirer, Billy Crocker, can clinch despite complications) can’t really support the extra weight of another 20 minutes or more running time.

But there is the star power of Baker and the satisfying renditions of such hits as You’re the Top, It’s De-Lovely and Blow, Gabriel, Blow to look forward to. And kudos to Thomas Dewayne Barrett, who also directed, for his skilled choreography.

Hello, Dolly! runs through Oct. 11 at the Manatee Players; call 748-5875 or visit manateeplayers.com. And Anything Goes is sailing on at the Players Theatre through Oct. 4; call 365-2494 or go to theplayers.org.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Crazy for You

The Manatee Players mine Gershwin's gold with Crazy for You.

By Kay Kipling

In these dog days of summer, the Manatee Players’ Crazy for You—bright, tuneful and energetic despite the heat—might be just the thing to pull you through another blistering week.

It’s not perfect (whatever is?), but overall director-choreographer Rick Kerby has assembled a strong cast and made the most of their talents. Plus, of course, there are all those great Gershwin songs, from Someone to Watch Over Me to They Can’t Take That Away from Me to Embraceable You.

The story of Crazy for You revolves around Bobby Child, a stagestruck young man (Michael DeMocko) whose mother insists he buckle down to work in the family banking business. That means he has to leave the bright lights of New York City (and all of its showgirls) behind when she sends him to foreclose on an old building in the ex-mining town of Deadrock, Nev.

Well, turns out the old building is a theater, and it’s owned by a feisty young girl named Polly (Andrea Wright) and her father. So once Bobby hits town, it’s pretty clear that there’s going to be romantic sparks and a “let’s put on a show” plot development.

Spicing matters up some more are the woman who insists she’s Bobby’s fiancée (Kali Westphalen), all those aforementioned showgirls (especially when they meet the rough-and-tumble men of Deadrock) and theatrical impresario Bela Zangler (John Andruzzi)—whom Bobby ends up impersonating. One of the funniest bits of this show is always when Bobby’s Zangler and the real Zangler come face to face in a drunken saloon spree; other highlights include the Act I closer I Got Rhythm, where the cast extracts rhythm out of every object they can lay their hands on, and Slap That Bass, another nicely staged number involving that stringed instrument.

As Bobby, DeMocko doesn’t boast a great singing voice, but he’s got some flair and some moves, dancewise, and he and Wright, who’s fine as Polly, connect well together on stage. Throw in a pleasing and utile set design by Marc Lalosh, some appropriately glam showgirl costumes by David W. Walker, and stalwart musical direction by Rick Bogner, and it all works out to be a good entertainment value.

Crazy for You continues through Sept. 6 at the Manatee Players Riverfront Theatre; call 748-5875 or visit manateeplayers.com.

Friday, August 07, 2009

Fat Pig

The Banyan examines the importance of appearance with Fat Pig.

By Kay Kipling

Even if you didn’t know anything about playwright/screenwriter Neil LaBute’s other work (The Shape of Things, In the Company of Men, reasons to be pretty) you’d probably still be intrigued by a piece with the title Fat Pig. That sort of brutal, in-your-face language is a LaBute trademark, and Fat Pig, now onstage in a Banyan Theater Company production at the Cook Theatre, is both familiar LaBute territory—and a little bit different.

Familiar because it revolves around unhappy young adults, living in an urban setting, who are dealing with relationships or the lack of them and who are not by any means very likable and who do some not very nice things. Different, perhaps, because in this case we do feel sympathy for at least some of the characters and wish things could turn out differently.

Sam Osheroff and Margot Moreland in the Banyan's Fat Pig.

Character No. 1: Tom (Sam Osheroff), an attractive young corporate type who stumbles across Helen (Margot Moreland) during lunch in a crowded restaurant. Tom is not looking for someone to get involved with, and if he were, he wouldn’t be likely to choose Helen, for although she’s bright, attractive and funny, she’s also several sizes too big—which in our society places her in hands-off land. Despite himself, though, he’s drawn to her during the course of a typically clever/awkward La Bute conversation, and ends up making plans to see her again—a plan he may regret once his officemates find out about it.

Those work colleagues are Carter (Dane Dandridge Clark), only a slight exaggeration of the annoying juvenile smartass many of us know, and Jeannie (Bethany Weise), a hard-edged yet desperate type whom Tom was dating until recently. When word gets out that Tom is now seeing a “fatty,” Carter and Jeannie begin to make life unbearable for him, even as Tom finds himself happily in love—that is, when he and Helen are alone together, in their own world apart.

It’s not hard to find moments of recognition here, and to wonder just how we’d respond in Tom’s position. We all know what a strong, mature person should do in the situation—but how many of us are really strong and mature enough to take on the daily battle of challenging society’s norms? As Carter (jerk though he is) says late in the play, “We’re all just one step away from being what frightens us. What we despise. So…we despise it when we see it in anybody else.”

Director Greg Leaming has a fine cast for Fat Pig, and he moves them sharply through their paces. LaBute’s dialogue is funny and scathing (although also touching, in the end), and while all the actors hit the right notes, it’s Osheroff and Moreland who must work convincingly together for the play itself to work. Luckily, they do.

Fat Pig continues through Aug. 23; for tickets call 552-1032 or go to banyantheatercompany.com.

Wednesday, August 05, 2009

The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (abridged)

Florida Studio Theatre pays comic tribute to Shakespeare.

By Kay Kipling

You really don’t need to “Brush Up Your Shakespeare” before attending Florida Studio Theatre’s final Summerfest offering, The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (abridged), so have no fears on that score. While a passing acquaintance with the works of the immortal Will may add a little extra zest to your enjoyment, even a neophyte can have fun with the silliness onstage as three actors attempt to present all 37 plays (albeit in greatly truncated form) on the FST stage.

Of course, some Shakespeare plays get better shrift than others. Romeo and Juliet receives an extended presentation, with actor Brad DePlanche wearing absurdly long braids as the winsome Juliet (he plays a number of female characters, most of whom end up heaving their guts into the face of an unfortunate audience member), Michael Daly channeling Christopher Walken as the Friar, and so on. Christopher Patrick Mullen, meanwhile, has already introduced himself to us as the “scholar” who knows everything about the playwright’s oeuvre (although a few facts may be shaky) and continues to reverence him despite some chinks in the great one’s armor.

Michael Daly, Brad DePlanche and Christopher Patrick Mullen at work.

For example, according to the playwrights here (Adam Long, Daniel Singer and Jess Winfield), all of Shakespeare’s comedies basically have the same plot—that’s why all 14 of them can be neatly bundled into one segment employing cardboard cutouts of some pretty familiar faces. (In general, the zany props and costumes on display here are a comic feast.) The early tragedy Titus Andronicus is so blood-filled they turn it into a cooking show complete with hacked-off body parts. And it’s easy enough to present the histories, with all those kings and wars, as a football game where the crown is the ball.

But after an hour or so of fast-paced nonsense (replete with some up-to-the-minute cultural references), the actors come to a sudden realization: They haven’t yet done Shakespeare’s masterwork, Hamlet. Ay, there’s the rub. The idea of tackling this Everest of drama intimidates Mullen to the point of fleeing the theater, but nevertheless, Act II must tell the tragic tale of the Prince of Denmark. And be forewarned, that’s a ripe opportunity for lots of audience participation.

While Act I is entertaining, certainly, it is Act II that really builds the bigger laughs. Daly, DePlanche and Mullen are all adept at meeting the challenges of the rapid-fire pace and engaging with the audience in the spirit of improvisation. Sure, some of the gags of the evening are pretty predictable, but it’s hard to resist the spirit with which they’re performed. All hail the Bard of Stratford-upon-Avon.

The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (abridged) continues through Aug. 23; call 366-9000 or go to floridastudiotheatre.org for tickets.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Old Wicked Songs

The Banyan visits Vienna's past with Old Wicked Songs.

By Kay Kipling

The bond between teacher and student is one frequently explored on stage and in film and literature, but it still seems to provide fertile ground despite being well plowed. The latest example locally: the Banyan Theater Company’s Old Wicked Songs by Jon Marans (who also directed this production.)

In this case the student, Steven Hoffman (Ken Ferrigni), is a tense and apparently arrogant 25-year-old piano prodigy whose burnout has reached the level where he can no longer play in public. A Viennese music professor sends him to yet another Viennese teacher, Mashkan (Kenneth Tigar), this one a vocal coach. The plan is for Mashkan to get Steven (or Stefan, as he insists on calling him) to sing himself, learning to loose the emotions within so that he can properly accompany singers and, in the end, find something for himself in the world of music that he has lost.

Ken Ferrigni and Kenneth Tigar in Old Wicked Songs.

The specific key to unlocking Steven’s cage is Robert Schumann’s song cycle Dichterliebe, bits of which are heard throughout and used effectively to advance the story and the characters’ relationship.We hear the music both live and recorded from the moment we enter Mashkan’s studio (a properly old-fashioned Viennese atmosphere here), and it sets the tone for an evening that has more than a touch of Weltschmerz to it.

The backdrop of the play, what’s taking place outside that room, is the 1986 Austrian election of Kurt Waldheim, whose suspected Nazi past roused unpleasant memories for the country and the world. Steven, we eventually learn, is Jewish, and when the young man returns from a trip to Dachau, he explodes at his music teacher, who has uttered several anti-Semitic slurs in his presence. But there’s more to Mashkan—and to Steven—than meets the eye; I won’t give away exactly what, although you might guess it for yourself.

That is perhaps the flaw in Old Wicked Songs, which was nominated for a Pulitzer in the ’90s; despite the playwright’s skill with dialogue and character and the way the music matches the scenes and the mood, the story does feel familiar and somewhat predictable. We’ve all seen a number of artistic works dealing with Nazis and the Holocaust, and it becomes harder over time to fictionalize in a way that can impact us nearly as much as the grim reality of say, a visit to a Holocaust museum, for example.

But Old Wicked Songs is helped greatly by the performances of Tigar and Ferrigni, especially Tigar. Both actors give fine, sympathetic performances; Tigar portrays Mashkan with a zest and a carefully calibrated balance between Marans’ humor and drama that makes him unique, not just a type.

Old Wicked Songs continues through Aug 2 at the Cook Theater; for tickets call 552-1032 or visit banyantheatercompany.com.

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Shirley Valentine

Life change is real and positive in FST's Shirley Valentine.

By Kay Kipling

What would you do if your kitchen—and your life—were so confining that you were literally stuck talking to the wall? Well, if you’re playwright Willy Russell’s winning heroine, Shirley Valentine, you’d take off for a life-changing trip to Greece that would help to recapture the real you, the one buried under years of routine, boredom and increasingly lowered expectations.

Shirley (Susan Greenhill in this Florida Studio Theatre production at the Gompertz Theatre) is a middle-aged Liverpool housewife, whose kids are pretty much grown up and whose husband expects exactly the same food with his tea according to the day of the week. As she speaks to us in this one-woman play, Shirley recalls early days of her life, in school and when first married, and dreams aloud about the seemingly impossible adventure of going to the Greek islands with her friend Jane for a fortnight. As she puts it, Shirley longs to “drink a glass of wine where the grape is grown” and also to make the most of what she considers the “unused life” within her.

Despite the suspicions of her daughter, her husband and her neighbor, Shirley doesn’t mean by that having an extramarital fling with a Greek native—although when she does in fact make it to Greece and meets a taverna owner named Costas, sparks do fly. She just wants to be the Shirley Valentine she once was, before she settled down and became wife and mother Shirley Bradshaw.

There’s lots of humor and warmth in this portrait. Russell’s hit play has had long life since first being staged several decades ago, and that’s certainly because while Shirley is a unique individual, we can all identify with her quest. It helps that Greenhill has some fine comic lines to deliver (“Marriage is like the Middle East,” she says at one point, “there’s just no solution”) and that’s she so effective at rendering the voices and personalities of her unseen family and friends.

It’s impossible not to like Greenhill and Shirley, and when we move from her tidy but stifling kitchen to the beaches of Greece in Act II, it’s not only the setting that changes; her physical and spiritual transformation is totally believable as well. It’s enough to make any of consider booking a flight right now.

Shirley Valentine is set to run through Aug. 9; call 366-9000 or go to floridastudiotheatre.org for tickets.

Friday, June 26, 2009

The Beauty Queen of Leenane

The Banyan Theater Company serves up a dark comedy with The Beauty Queen of Leenane.

By Kay Kipling

The darkly comic, often violent plays of Irishman Martin McDonagh may not be everyone’s cup of “tay.” But for those who appreciate his skill in shifting tone and mood back and forth without losing any of his characters’ uniqueness or authenticity, a production of a McDonagh play is a welcome arrival.

McDonagh’s earliest play to receive critical and popular attention, The Beauty Queen of Leenane, is now onstage in a Banyan Theater Company production at the Cook Theatre, and it should send a chill down your backbone to help cool you in these dog days of summer. Set in a small town near Galway in the west of Ireland, in the early 1990s, Beauty Queen revolves around a 40-ish spinster, Maureen (Jessica K. Peterson), and her 70-something mother, Mag (Kim Crow), whose sparring relationship is evident from the first words of the play, which is set in the kitchen of an old rural cottage.

Kim Crow and Jessica K. Peterson in The Beauty Queen of Leenane.

The back and forth of their dialogue is amusing and quick, and at first we may wonder if some affection lies behind it. It soon becomes apparent, however, that this mother-daughter relationship is one for the books. Mag is a selfish, exasperating old hag who has made her unmarried daughter’s life miserable, and Maureen has all but given up hope of getting out from under—until an old neighbor, Pato Dooley (Derry Woodhouse), returns for a brief visit from his exile in England. Is there a chance of these two lonely people kindling a love affair that will last? Or will Mag doom the future to repeat the past?

It’s intriguing to watch McDonagh’s ever-changing battleground throughout, and to try to ascertain who is more the victim here, the often cruel Mag or the equally tough Maureen, who has a history of mental illness to boot. Both Peterson and Crow have strong presences, and as the tension builds to an inevitable confrontation, they are totally believable as two people locked in a life-and-death struggle.

Woodhouse is touching as Pato, especially in a lovely monologue in Act II where he writes a letter home to Maureen. And the fourth member of the cast, Gordon Myles Woods, provides much of the evening’s comic relief as Pato’s younger brother, Ray—a rather dim bulb whose sense of outrage against the police, his anything but prosperous hometown and the other three characters as they all try to make use of him is often wildly funny.

Director Gil Lazier has helped craft many fine moments in McDonagh’s work, and the set design by Jeffrey W. Dean and costumes by Jaye Annette Sheldon (especially Mag’s outlandishly frumpy attire) help place us squarely in the claustrophobic atmosphere of Mag and Maureen’s world. It’s a world you may find yourself thanking God you don’t inhabit, but it’s memorable.

The Beauty Queen of Leenane continues through July 12; for tickets call 552-1032 or go to banyantheatercompany.com.

Sunday, June 07, 2009

Souvenir

Judy Kaye and Donald Corren forge a bond with each other and the audience at the Asolo.

By Kay Kipling

The idea of paying to hear an atrocious, tone-deaf singer perform might seem an unlikely one. Nevertheless, that's exactly what thousands apparently did to hear Florence Foster Jenkins back in the 1930s and '40s. And certainly thousands more have paid to see Souvenir, Stephen Temperley's play (subtitled a "fantasia") about Florence and her loyal accompanist, portrayed by Judy Kaye and Donald Corren in performances on Broadway and around the country and now at the Asolo Rep.

The reasons why are pondered in Temperley's work, which opens in 1964 with pianist Cosme McMoon (Corren) reminiscing about his days with Florence on the 20th anniversary of her death. When the two met, Cosme was a young, hopeful musician-composer with a number of homosexual friends and the occasional lover. Florence (Kaye) was an affluent socialite who felt her friends were encouraging her to broaden her recital base. Convinced that she's a great coloratura singer, Florence (who has a heart of gold if an ear of tin) decides to hold larger recitals for charity in the Ritz-Carlton ballroom.

Cosme's eager to make both a name for himself and some money, but there's no way he can be prepared for what happens when Florence opens her mouth to sing. Corren's reactions throughout the play--from appalled to desperate to searching for just the right careful phrasing not to offend his new patron--are always fun to watch, and Broadway veteran Kaye, of course, is a mistress of the vocal acrobatics Florence performs as she murders Mozart and other classical music legends. She fervently believes, "What matters most is the music inside your head"; how can Cosme tell her the truth about what others hear with her wildly off-key delivery?

Over time, though, their relationship develops despite Florence's firmly fixed delusions. As envisioned by Temperley and embodied by Kaye, Florence does have great verve and commitment (or maybe she needs to be committed), and for Cosme, and the crowds who come to hear her, that helps explain the devotion. (Florence, naturally, never hears anyone laughing at her, and the question hangs over how much her "fans" love her and how much they just find her hilarious).

It is too much for Cosme, though, when the pair produce a recording, to which Florence listens with great pleasure until she feels she hears something a bit "awry"--not in her vocalizations, but in his playing! The inevitable explosion occurs, but in the end the bond between the two is even stronger--strong enough to take them both to a sold-out performance at Carnegie Hall.

Corren and Kaye have worked together for quite a while on Souvenir, and the audience feels there is a bond between them, too. Wonderful as Kaye is on all of Florence's numbers (and the costumes alone during the Carnegie Hall gig are a comedy feast), one could still tire of hearing music sung badly if it weren't for the connection we feel between Cosme and Florence and the actors who play them. And Temperley's play offers some food for thought about what drives the rest of us, too. As Florence says, "Without the risk of failure, there can be no chance of success." Maybe that's a motto to keep in mind.

Souvenir continues through June 28 at the Asolo Rep; for tickets call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Friday, June 05, 2009

Late Nite Catechism

School's in for the summer with the Golden Apple's Late Nite Catechism.

By Kay Kipling

It’s true: You really don’t have to be Catholic to enjoy Late Nite Catechism, now playing at the Golden Apple Dinner Theatre.

As it happens, I did attend Catholic school for a number of years, and even before the show started, the classroom set, with its chalkboard, attendance chart, statue of Mary and crucifix summoned up memories in (or struck fear into) my heart. But many of the audience members on press night did not raise their hands when asked if they spent their formative years under the tender or not so tender guidance of nuns, and they still roared as the evening went on.

Late Nite Catechism has been something of a phenomenon ever since its conception (immaculate or not) back in 1993 in Chicago; it’s traveled to every state in the country as well as making stops in Canada, the United Kingdom and Australia. The Golden Apple production features Nonie Newton-Breen as the sister in charge of an adult catechism class, and, after eight years of touring in the role, she clearly has the part down.

"Sister" Nonie Newton-Breen in Late Nite Catechism.

There are certain set bits in Late Nite Catechism, including a segment called “Saint/Not a Saint,” where Sister leads the audience in determining which one of five saints should be eliminated from the heavenly rolls. (Don’t worry, she gives you plenty of information about each to help decide.) But sometimes it’s hard to tell where the script ends and the more improvisational part begins. That’s due in large part to Newton-Breen’s skills; her improv roots, honed at Chicago’s famed Second City, are obvious here (as is that Chicago accent) as she’s able to work easily with the audience, whether asking questions about their childhood memories or scolding its more scantily clad female members. (“Always ask yourself, ‘What would Mary wear?’” she advises.)

Newton-Breen is capable of delivering that withering look all teaching nuns seem to have perfected, but she’s also adept at displays of compassion and at being down to earth as her character copes with the changes in the Catholic Church that have been wrought ever since Vatican II. There are great comedy lines already there for her to use, but some of the biggest laughs come in response to questions from the audience (which she may or may not have heard before by now) that she manages to play off with impeccable comic timing.

Whether you’re searching for definitive answers about Limbo or the difference between venial and mortal sin, or just for a bit of nostalgia dressed up in a nun’s habit, Late Nite Catechism should get your attention, just like a smart rap across the knuckles with a ruler. Oh, and did I mention there are prizes?

Late Nite Catechism continues through July 26; for tickets call 366-5454 or go to thegoldenapple.com.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Perfect Mendacity

The Asolo Rep’s world premiere only partly lives up to its promise.

By Kay Kipling

Playwright Jason Wells' Men of Tortuga was an intriguing and exciting addition to the Asolo Rep's lineup a couple of seasons ago, with a dark comedic viewpoint of the extremes to which men in power will go to hold on to their power--and their secrets. Now Wells is back at the Asolo with a new work (in fact, a world premiere), Perfect Mendacity, which also has a thing or two to say about secrets.

In this case the man with the secret (at least the first one that we meet) is Walter Kreutzer (David Breitbarth), a microbiologist working with a private firm that in turn does some work for the government. When we meet Walter he's in the office of a polygraph expert (DeMario McGrew), hoping to find a way to beat the test he's being required to take to prove his innocence. Seems that confidential information about some rather nasty business the firm is involved in was leaked to the Internet, and Walter's a prime suspect.

But perhaps Walter didn't do it; it may have been his Moroccan, therefore Arabic, therefore possible terrorist wife, Samira (Diana Simonzadeh), who saw the memo when he unwisely brought it home. Does Walter want to beat the machine to protect himself or her? And will Samira, who has a secret or two of her own, somehow persuade Walter to 'fess up in order to make peace with his better self?

It's a good premise, but only part of its promise is fulfilled in this production. Wells is always a good writer of dialogue; his characters, which also include here Roger (Douglas Jones), a plausibly smooth co-worker of Walter's, banter ideas and suspicions back and forth with agility, and you have to work to keep up. There are sneaky little surprises and good comic moments, as when good old Roger comes over to Walter and Samira's for a drink and then pulls a fast one by--no, I won't spoil it.

So, clever and funny Perfect Mendacity often is. But it would help if we believed more in the characters and their relationships, specifically the one between Walter and Samira. Although Simonzadeh is often effective in the way she pretends innocence or misunderstanding to manipulate her husband, we never really have a sense of why these two are together in the first place, no real belief in the history of their love. And Breitbarth's Walter, who doesn't come across as a scientist personality at all, either relies or is forced to rely too much on the same notes of indignation and panic; there's not much modulation in his performance to lend it any depth or conviction.

Jones provides some cynically comic entertainment, and there are a few sharply executed turns here, as directed by Michael Donald Edwards. But based on this production, at least, a little more tweaking of the script seems in order.

Perfect Mendacity continues through June 14 in the Cook Theatre. For tickets call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Friday, May 15, 2009

La Cage aux Folles

Georges and Albin are together again in the Manatee Players' La Cage.

By Kay Kipling

Two productions of Jerry Herman’s St. Tropez-and-transvestites musical La Cage aux Folles in one local season? Ooh-la-la, mes amis.

The Golden Apple Dinner Theatre provided a strong production of the show earlier this season; now it’s the Manatee Players’ turn to revel in the feathers and froth of this tale of two longtime homosexual lovers, their on-the-verge-of-marriage son, and the havoc a visit from the potential in-laws brings. There are highs and lows in the production, generally well staged by Larry Alexander, but it had to have been challenging to find enough “cagelles” (suitable male actors willing to dress in drag and do high kicks) to fill out the La Cage chorus line.

Alexander is fortunate to have two strong singers with long performing backgrounds behind them to play Georges (the relatively straight one) and Albin (the more effeminate of the pair, whose onstage personality of Madame Zaza comes fully tricked out with sequins, wig and, of course, heels). Ken Basque (Georges) and Rodd Dyer (Albin) work well together and with that son, Jean-Michel (David Scarpaci), whose engagement to the lovely Anne (Corinne Woodland), daughter of an anti-homosexual politician (Randy Garmer) causes all the trouble.

There are some issues with Dyer’s performance, although they are by no means fatal. Sometimes his more feminine voice, so often employing a nervous laugh, is just too querulous; it wears on you after a time. And even for Zaza, he is probably wearing too much eye makeup; you can see it from the back row, and you may wonder how he’s managing to keep his eyes open at all.

But he’s affecting in his big Act I closer, I Am What I Am, after the full extent of his son’s betrayal hits home, and gets the full measure of laughs when trying to adapt his movements and style for public consumption in Masculinity. No such worries for Albin’s butler/maid, Jacob (Brian James Dennis), who obviously feels free to be as over-the-top flaming as he/she wants to be. Dennis plays the role as directed and, again, gets a lot of laughs, even if it wore thin by the end for me.

Given a diverse cast, physically, of “cagelles,” choreographer Dewayne Barrett makes some of their dance numbers more broadly comic in nature—an understandable choice. Fred Werling’s costumes certainly follow the cue to be outrageous, too. And the set, designed by Marc Lalosh, helps transport us to St. Tropez, especially the moonlit waterfront backdrop.

It was interesting to reflect, on opening night, how the mostly older opening night crowd took Georges and Albin to their bosoms—it seems doubtful that they all necessarily grew up so comfortable with homosexuality, even when presented in a Broadway musical comedy. I guess we’ve come a long way over the past few decades, even if there’s still further to go.

La Cage aux Folles continues through May 31 at the Manatee Players Riverfront Theatre; call 748-5875 or go to manateeplayers.com for tickets.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Willy Wonka

There's not much flavor in Venice Theatre's Willy Wonka.

By Kay Kipling

The opening number in the musical stage version of Willy Wonka is Pure Imagination, and you’ll have to use yours pretty liberally to summon up much magic in the classic Roald Dahl tale.

One understands that an onstage version of the piece, especially at a community theater, will not have the sometimes over-the-top spectacle of either film telling of the Wonka story and that trip to the chocolate factory. But the special effects in Venice Theatre’s production are especially underwhelming, whether it’s the curtain masquerading as a chocolate river or the almost invisible conversion of a disobedient child into a blueberry.

Cast members of Venice Theatre's Willy Wonka.

Overall, the show has a too quiet, rather listless feeling about it as well. That’s despite the fact that much of the cast is capable and hard-working.

Scott Vitale looks right enough for the part of Willy Wonka (channeling more the Johnny Depp interpretation than the Gene Wilder one in this case), clad in a variety of colorful pants, hats and shoes. Thomas Junker carries off the role of young Charlie Bucket, the only worthy Golden Ticket winner, with enthusiasm. And some other performers are fine as well, including Cara Herman, Nina Tufenkjan, Neil Kasanofsky and Steve Credeur as Charlie’s bedridden grandparents.

The other Golden Ticket winners, the greedy Augustus Gloop (Charlie Kollar), spoiled rotten Veruca Salt (Ally Tufenkjan), video-addicted Mike Teavee (Andrew Richardson) and gum-chewing Violet Beauregarde (Hayley Brielle Balliet) have clearly been led by director Brad Wages to ham it up as much as possible; sometimes that works and sometimes it’s just annoying. The Oompa-Loompas—often a high point of the Wonka saga—are cute here, but not especially interesting in the way they’re conceived visually. And the set changes frequently slow the pacing of the show just when it needs to flow along to keep us involved.

For true Wonka-holics, there may be enough of the original’s charm remaining to make a visit to the show worthwhile. But for most people, I’d recommend popping one of the film versions into the DVD player.

Willy Wonka continues at Venice Theatre through May 24; call 488-1115 or go to venicestage.com.

Monday, May 04, 2009

Dynamic Duets of the '70s

Time for one more '70s trip with WBTTs Dynamic Duets at Art Center Sarasota.

By Kay Kipling

Westcoast Black Theatre Troupe is closing out its “Soulful Serenade” season with the current show, Dynamic Duets of the ’70s. It’s not the strongest of the three-show season (which included a production featuring hits by female singers of the era followed by one highlighting the male singers), but it still provides some nostalgia and musical excitement.

The show starts off, a bit too loudly and unintelligibly, with the eight-member ensemble cast performing Ain’t No Mountain High Enough and Ain’t Nothing Like the Real Thing. They’re revved up, but it takes the audience a while longer to get warm; that happens around the time Jnana Wilson and Sheldon Rhoden team up on the old Marvin Gaye-Tammy Terrell hit Your Precious Love.

The format of the duet, with the singers mostly looking at each other while vocalizing, may not allow for quite as much interaction with the audience as previous shows, and the tunes are, naturally, more romantic than rousing, as they tended to be in previous shows. But there are some numbers that get people in the audience moving and clapping along; certainly the juxtaposition of Chaka Khan’s I’m Every Woman with Kool & the Gang’s Ladies Night is a lively one. And Peaches & Herb’s Shake Your Groove Thang is a direct invitation to everyone to get up and dance.

The cast is lively, talented and engaged throughout. So if you’re in the mood for one more trip back to the ’70s, you can get in the groove at Art Center Sarasota for selected dates through May 24. For tickets go to srqboxoffice.com.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Blackbird

FST's Stage III production of Blackbird suffers from a fevered production.

By Kay Kipling

Blackbird, by David Harrower, comes to Florida Studio Theatre’s Stage III with an impressive resume; it received the Olivier Award for Best New Play in 2007, and it’s received good reviews in previous stagings elsewhere. Plus its subject matter and setup seem more than likely to provoke an intensely dramatic evening of theater.

Unfortunately, in this production, Blackbird is nowhere near as effective as it probably can be. The reason is simple enough: Under the direction of Beth Duda, Blackbird (your guess is as good as mine as to where the title comes from; there are several possibilities), starts out at a fever pitch from the opening lines, with rushed dialogue spouted at high volume, leaving it absolutely no room to build to what should be an emotional climax. Instead, there’s a lot of shouting and no nuance, especially in the performance of Dan Patrick Brady as Ray.

Sarah Stockton and Dan Patrick Brady in Blackbird.

Ray is a 50-something, not very successful office manager (at least that’s what we think he is) who’s accosted in the opening scene by the much younger Una (Sarah Stockton) in the litter-filled canteen of his company—a truly distasteful environment. (Duda retains the British base and accents of the original for this production, although it might have been better to go American, since it’s sometimes hard to distinguish Brady’s lines). Una is filled, at first anyway, with a vengeful spirit, and Ray is intimidated by her sudden appearance. Understandably, it seems, since it comes out soon enough that the two shared a brief affair more than a decade ago, when she was only 12 years old—an affair that led to Ray’s spending several years in prison.

Una was in her own kind of prison as well, since she remained in the town and the neighborhood where the shocking news of their relationship filled headlines. She complains to Ray that she felt like a ghost there, and indeed both of them have been haunted by what passed between them even as they’ve tried to build new lives and new relationships.

What is Una after ultimately—a chance to punish Ray or a chance to somehow reconnect with him, in the hope of recapturing her first, forbidden love? For love it was, or so we’re led to believe, not part of a pedophile’s predatory pattern. And Stockton does make us feel at times for Una as she tells Ray and us the story of what happened to her after they spent the night together in a seedy hotel room.

But a play raising such complex, shaded moral questions about our long-held standards of right and wrong needs an equally shaded, carefully paced telling, not one that’s consistently over the top. In the end, after 65 minutes or so of high-pitched confrontation, we come away unsatisfied.

Blackbird continues through May 7 at the Gomperz Theatre; for tickets, call 366-9000 or go to floridastudiotheatre.org.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

The Latest from Lucas

Playwright Craig Lucas wins a new local prize--and relaxes on the beach.

By Kay Kipling

Playwright Craig Lucas, in town to accept the inaugural Hermitage Artist’s Retreat Greenfield Prize to write a brand-new work for the stage, sounded pretty relaxed when I spoke to him by cell phone from the beach outside the Hermitage’s Manasota Key compound, where he’s staying for a few days. And that’s a good thing, because it’s a week of press reviews for his latest play, The Singing Forest, at New York’s Public Theater (with a cast including Olympia Dukakis), and he’d just as soon be out of town.

“There’s nothing I can do there anymore but be nervous, and I’d rather be nervous on the beach,” he laughs. “You know, it’s like trying to hold the plane up with your mind.”

Lucas may not have much to worry about; his last play, Prayer for My Enemy, a dark piece touching on aspects of the Iraq war, alcoholism and homosexuality, received generally good reviews, including, Lucas says, “a very eloquent piece by John Lahr in the New Yorker, and he doesn’t usually like my work. I’m really very happy with the reception it received.”

Lucas has been a practicing playwright for about 30 years, with works including Prelude to a Kiss, The Light in the Piazza and Blue Window to his credit. His musical play, Three Postcards (reviewed on April 16 in this blog), is currently onstage in an FSU/Asolo Conservatory production in the Cook Theatre, and he plans to see it on Saturday. The production’s director, Conservatory head Greg Leaming, is someone Lucas says he’s “very fond of. And he’s always liked Three Postcards, which is something of an acquired taste. He used to work at Hartford Stage, which commissioned my piece, The Dying Gaul.”

Speaking of working to a commission, Lucas says he’s “not so big on the idea of inspiration” or waiting for it to strike. “If you just sit at your desk every day, turn your imagination on, and are willing to listen, you will write something,” he says. “With a play, you have to come up with something that holds enough desire and conflict to sustain a couple hours of storytelling. It can’t be easily resolvable, and of course sometimes it’s not resolvable at all.” And he’s been fortunate not to have to discard much of his writing, he says. “Sometimes I may put it away for a while, but when I come back to it I find something there.”

Typically Lucas, who’s also worked as a director and an actor, likes to be as involved as he can with the process of getting a play of his mounted. “Sometimes that’s difficult, if I’m working on a movie at the same time,” he admits. “But I do have to be there to listen to what’s going on if I need to rewrite.”

Besides his writing career, Lucas is also associate artistic director at Seattle’s Intiman Theatre, and I asked how the economy was affecting that company. “Everybody’s hurting,” he says, “even the wealthiest theaters with the biggest endowments. The Intiman is doing smaller plays and a shorter season, and because people are comfortable more with classics than new work, they haven’t done one of my plays the last two years.”

Although this was Lucas’ first visit to Sarasota, he was familiar with the west coast of Florida; his parents used to live in Sun City Center. And hopefully he’ll be back for the reading of his Greenfield Prize work next spring at the Asolo Rep. In the meantime, of the rest of his stay here, he says, “I’m planning on being a royal vegetable.”

Monday, April 20, 2009

Black Pearl Sings!

Florida Studio Theatre's Black Pearl Sings! traces some nearly lost history.

By Kay Kipling

Black Pearl Sings!, now showing on Florida Studio Theatre’s mainstage, is not really a musical. But it is a play where the music talks—in bits and pieces of lore and stories recovered from near-extinction thanks to two determined women.

The first of the women is Susannah (Forrest Richards), a music historian searching for “lost” folk music in a women’s prison in Texas in the midst of the Depression, in 1935. The second of the women is one of the prisoners, Alberta “Pearl” Johnson (Alice M. Gatling), serving time for killing a man (under circumstances we gradually come to understand). For Pearl, the descendant of slaves, helping Susannah to record some previously unheard songs for the Library of Congress could be her ticket to parole, so she can search for the beloved daughter she hasn’t seen in 10 years. For Susannah, it could mean the prestigious Harvard job she wants, if only Pearl can give her a song no one else has yet found—a song tracing its roots all the way back to Africa.

Alice M. Gatling in Florida Studio Theatre's Black Pearl Sings!

The women have reason to work together, but there are, naturally, suspicions, too. And Pearl is not about to just give away her treasures; she doles them out sparingly as she weighs whether or not Susannah can really help her get what she wants. Pearl, as movingly played by Gatling, is tough, but she’s not a standard-issue strong black matriarch; she has enough quirks to render her truly an individual, and we believe that she can accomplish what she sets out to do.

The first half of the play is set in that Texas prison; the second, in New York, where Susannah brings Pearl to perform for her Greenwich Village friends and other liberal types. (Among the many good comedy lines in Frank Higgins’ dialogue are a few digging at the way the New York sophisticates respond to Pearl—which she in turn comes to enjoy greatly). Despite coming into the production at the last minute, Richards plays Susannah with great energy and confidence, and she and Gatling play well off each other. But the expected clash between them in Act II comes across as abrupt and unbelievable; it feels contrived, there just because the playwright needed it to be there.

Other than that, though, Black Pearl Sings! is an entertaining, involving, frequently stirring piece of work. It continues through May 30; for tickets call 366-9000 or visit floridastudiotheatre.org.

Friday, April 17, 2009

Smile

The Players' Smile offers a look at the all-American beauty pageant.

By Kay Kipling

If you’ve never seen the musical Smile, you’re not alone: This Marvin Hamlisch-Howard Ashman adaptation of the 1975 film directed by Michael Ritchie is one of those seldom-seen, indeed practically lost musicals, even though it did receive some award nominations when it debuted back in 1986.

But Smile didn’t run long, and has not been revived often. So it’s kind of intriguing to catch it for the first time at the Players Theatre.

Channing Weir, Trina Rizzo and Tara Collandra in the Players’ Smile.

This is a show about a pretty cheesy young teen beauty pageant (set in Santa Rosa, Calif., in the mid 1980s, the era of big hair), and it runs the risk of being pretty cheesy itself at times. But Smile also boasts a lot of young talent, most especially Trina Rizzo and Channing Weir as two of the contestants who become friends during the competition.

Rizzo plays Doria, a serial pageant entrant with a Southern accent and an unhappy family background. Her pageant roomie, Robin (Channing Weir), is a newcomer to the pageant circuit, and not at all sure she even wants to compete to become a “Young American Miss.” But as the prelims go on, she finds herself caught up in the drive to win—as does another contestant, Shawn (Krista Hunsicker), who’s so determined to take the tiara she sabotages the chances of one likely winner, a young Mexican-born girl (Kristina Greco), by planting an all-too-revealing picture of her where all can see it.

Not to reveal too much more of the plot, but that picture was taken by the naughty son of the pageant organizer, Brenda (Kathleen Abney), herself a long-ago contestant who’s got way too much riding on this one. And that concerns her husband, RV dealer Big Bob (Leslie Dawley), who’s supportive of his wife but wonders just how far she’ll go to make her dream come true.

All that exposition aside, Smile is not really that complicated of a musical. As you’d expect, there are several ensemble numbers where all the contestants strut their stuff, competing in categories like “Vim and Vigor” and “Scholastic Achievement” (that one apparently consists of answering a softball question from the host). There are also more reflective numbers, as when Doria sings wistfully of her attraction to Disneyland, or Big Bob ponders the direction his life has headed (Bob’s Song).

There’s plenty of opportunity to ponder your own feelings about pageants and the American fascination with all their trappings, from the glitzy-jacketed host to the sappy song directed at the winner to the motivations of someone like Brenda, who delivers a heartfelt speech about why it all matters.

But for the most part, Smile belongs to the girls, especially Rizzo, Weir and Greco, who all have powerful voices and strong stage presences. Rizzo has proven herself on the Players stage before; Weir is a newcomer (and only an eighth-grader) that we predict we’ll see more of here. And Greco practically steals the whole show with a cooking demonstration segment (including enchiladas, of course) that’s her talent number for the evening. They all almost make up for the episodic, truncated feel of the show’s book, which has an abrupt ending that leaves us feeling some issues are unresolved.

Smile runs through April 26; for tickets call 365-2494 or go to theplayers.org.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Three Postcards

The FSU/Asolo Conservatory's Three Postcards sets a reflective mood.

By Kay Kipling

There’s a wistful quality to the Craig Lucas-Craig Carnelia musical Three Postcards, now onstage at the Historic Asolo Theater in an FSU/Asolo Conservatory production, that somehow strikes just the right note—or at least it did for me on opening night.

The setup of this slight, 90-minute-long show is a familiar enough one: Three old friends, women in their 30s, get together for dinner at a chic Manhattan restaurant to catch up and reminisce over old times. In doing so, they find laughs, tears and maybe a reaffirmation of the reasons they’ve remained friends over the years despite their differences and some separations.

In many hands, this would be a pleasant but perfectly forgettable outing. But Lucas (who’s coming to town next week to accept the Hermitage Artist Retreat’s inaugural Greenfield Prize) and Carnelia, plus the talented Conservatory cast, manage to make it feel more than the sum of its parts.

Ghafir Akbar, Bethany Weise, Hannah Goalstone and Alexandra Guyker in Three Postcards.

For one thing, there are the women themselves, who are quickly but pretty clearly defined by the actresses playing them. There’s Big Jane (Bethany Weise), an overeager, unsuccessful poet/cum/phone salesperson who wants to be liked by everyone including the women’s waiter (nicely played by Ghafir Akbar, charming as the waiter and also effectively doubling in roles ranging from a verbally abusive husband to a kindergarten teacher to a therapist). There’s Little Jane (Alexandra Guyker), bossy and assertive, whose problems include the aforementioned husband, a child who bites, and her own apparently endless years of analysis. And there’s KC (Hannah Goalstone), the seemingly altogether one, who’s determined not to break down about the recent loss of her mother.

Over the course of the evening the three go back and forth in time, aided by Walter the waiter, pianist Randy Spaulding and songs and scenes ranging from early classroom days to the teen years (when the three absolutely capture the excitement of making girl group harmonies together on See How the Sun Shines, a song that recurs later on in the show) to the (inevitable) disappointments of grown-up life. There’s nothing especially new or deep here, but Three Postcards has a mood and aura all its own, and it’s a pleasure to watch these MFA students spread their wings a bit in a musical (a fairly uncommon choice for the Conservatory to present).

Three Postcards continues through May 3 at the Historic Asolo; for tickets call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

Venice Theatre reaches high with Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

By Kay Kipling

Some works are challenging (especially for a community theater) to present because of “adult” material; some because previous versions of the work loom so large in the collective memory; and some just because of the emotional range demanded of the actors. Edward Albee's Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, now onstage at Venice Theatre’s Stage II, is surely challenging because of all three.

Denied the Pulitzer Prize when it bowed in 1962 because of its “vulgarity” and sexual frankness, famed probably for most because of the film starring Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, and almost overwhelming in its swiftly changing moods, Virginia Woolf asks a lot of the VT cast and of the audience as well. (And I haven’t even mentioned the fact that with two intermissions it’s more than three hours long). But while it’s occasionally exhausting, the Venice Theatre production is also rewarding.

From the moment you enter the theater you’re enveloped in the surround of the home of university professor George and wife Martha (Murray and Lori Chase), surely one of the most famous couples in contemporary theater. Set designer Kirk Hughes has used every wall of the in-the-round setting to hold books, lamps, glasses and bric-a-brac from the couple’s lives, putting us squarely in their living room as they battle it out in front of the younger couple (Doug Landin and Molly Healy) they’ve invited over for drinks following a party hosted by the university president, Martha’s father.

George and Martha’s long and troubled relationship revolves around playing games, and there are dangerous ones on display as the night of drinking and talking wears on. While George and Martha dominate the proceedings at first, gradually we learn more about the younger pair, Nick and Honey—of his ambition and her instability, for example—information that George and Martha turn to their own uses.

From the outset the Chases seem absolutely confident in their roles, and as the tension escalates, when they’re really ready to take each other on, they’re at the top of their game, batting back and forth insults and then retreating for another attack. Landin and Healy (under the smart direction of Ron Ziegler) also demonstrate more than usual skill in bringing their characters to life, making them fit foils for their dueling hosts.

By the close of the evening, we’ve been on a rollercoaster ride, one that ends with Lori Chase in a totally believable meltdown as the finally vulnerable Martha, no longer able to reside inside her most cherished illusion. She must be totally drained—and the audience may feel the same way.

Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? continues through April 26; for tickets call 488-1115 or go to venicestage.com.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Smokey Joe's Cafe

It's a night of nostalgia with the Leiber-Stoller revue Smokey Joe's Cafe.

By Kay Kipling

The musical revue Smokey Joe’s Café doesn’t pop up too frequently on area stages—somewhat surprising, given the boatload of highly recognizable Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller tunes it carries.

The show is onstage at the Manatee Players Riverfront Theatre now, and it offers people of a certain age plenty of opportunities to recall the days when they first heard hits like Poison Ivy, Kansas City, Hound Dog and Love Potion #9. It’s a fairly bare-bones production, but that suits the show’s fast-moving tempo, and there is plenty of energy onstage in the nine-member cast and among the band’s musicians, who sit squarely in the center of the stage while the performers sing and gyrate around them.

Inevitably with revue shows, it seems, one ends up choosing favorite moments and songs, since there’s no real storyline or characterization to discuss. So here are a few: the touching ensemble number Neighborhood, which starts off the show and puts us in the right nostalgic frame of mind; Keep on Rollin’, which gets most of the male members of the cast on the move; Don Juan, with Jaszy McAllister as a frankly mercenary wench dragging around a mile-long red feather boa; and the Act I closer Saved, a rousing gospel number led by Shirley Johnson, who’s got a powerful vocal style.

Her style is also demonstrated in Act II on Hound Dog and Fools Fall in Love; the former especially is effective in the original female version, done before Elvis got his vocal cords on it. Little Egypt, with the guys all awestruck by the moves of a temptress we don’t see but they do, is fun, and the Act II closer, Stand By Me, is always a crowd pleaser.

All of the cast members get to solo, and they all have vocal talent, although some are more comfortable with their movements (choreographed by director Harry Bryce, mostly in familiar ’50s and ’60s dance gestures) than others. Frequent changes of costumes keep us visually alert and help differentiate character types. On opening night, some sound issues occasionally hampered the proceedings; hopefully those will be quickly resolved.

Smokey Joe’s Café runs through April 26; call 748-5875 or go to manateeplayers.com.

Thursday, April 02, 2009

Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat

The Golden Apple's Joseph pops with energy and enthusiasm.

By Kay Kipling

It’s repeatedly amazing to realize how often the best and most lasting things in life are so simple. Case in point: the Andrew Lloyd Webber-Tim Rice confection Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, now onstage at the Golden Apple Dinner Theatre.

This show has been around in some form or other for about 40 years now, and I can’t remember how many times I’ve seen it. But if performed with energy and affection, as it is here, it still entertains, without requiring any vast scale of production. A palm tree here, a bright yellow sun there, some neatly executed dance moves, and the mix of sprightly and more sober songs, ranging from country to Parisian cabaret to Elvis Presley, and voila! You’ve got a fun evening on your hands.

The cast of the Golden Apple's Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat.

For anyone who has never read the Bible, Joseph tells, in streamlined form, the story of a young man (Craig Weiskerger) shunned by his 11 brothers because he’s their father’s favorite (and because they’re sick of hearing about his dreams). Fortunately for him, he ends up being the favorite of an Egyptian pharaoh, too, and all ends happily despite some time in prison and a long separation from his family.

The narration needed is handled by—well, the Narrator, played here by Heather Kopp, who does a fine job of moving things along while having a specific style of her own. Weiskerger is a likable Joseph (despite his early cluelessness about his brothers’ true feelings), and many other cast members get a chance to shine, too, such as Dewayne Barrett as a hip-swiveling pharaoh who knocks out all the girls when he sings, Robert Ennis Turoff as both Jacob and Potiphar, Samantha Barrett as Potiphar’s siren of a wife, and brothers Roy Johns (Those Canaan Days) and Charles McKenzie (Benjamin Calypso).

The orchestra, under the direction of John Visser, sounds bigger than it is, and Barrett, who also serves as choreographer, has really made the dance numbers pop (they’re given more time to do so in this version of Joseph). A new (to most of us) closing Megamix number extends the finale and gives us one more chance to appreciate the infectious high spirits of the entire cast; it really does feel as if they’re reluctant to leave us.

Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat runs through May 31; call 366-5454 or go to thegoldenapple.com

Wednesday, April 01, 2009

Leading Ladies

Venice Theatre's Leading Ladies carries on the rich tradition of theatrical cross-dressing.

By Kay Kipling

Ken Ludwig’s Leading Ladies is probably a fairly smart choice for a community theater like Venice Theatre. It almost instantly feels very familiar, in a comfortable sort of way—old-fashioned, perhaps, with no surprises to startle the audience. In other words, you know exactly what you’re getting here.

And that is a farce, complete with the time-honored tradition of cross-dressing men, that throws together elements of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, the venerable Charley’s Aunt and a few other recognizable literary/stage antecedents. Here’s the story: Two down-on-their-luck Shakespearean actors, Leo (Matt Erickson) and Jack (Eric Schneider), get wind of a dying woman looking for two long-missing heirs (actually, they get the full lowdown when a young blond bombshell literally—and coincidentally—skates into their train compartment bursting with news). Leo, the more aggressive and risk-taking of the two, decides they can easily fake their way into the inheritance, but it gets more complicated when they find out that the heirs-to-be are not really Max and Steve, but Maxine and Stephanie. Cue the long dresses and high heels to come out of the battered stage suitcase.

Eric Schneider and Matt Erickson do double duty in Venice Theatre’s Leading Ladies.

It’s obvious from the first that these two could never really fool anyone into believing they’re women, not even the local yokels of 1950s York, Pa., which is where the dying woman (Lynn Buhle, in a pleasingly crusty performance) lives with her theater-crazy niece, Meg (Heather O’Dea, a nice presence here). Meg in turn is engaged to a stuffed-shirt minister (Paul Mullen), who instantly suspects the “nieces” are up to something and tries to dig up the truth amid escalating craziness.

Anyone over the age of five knows just where all this is going to end up, but there are some good Ludwig comic lines in the mix (along with a few groaners), and the cast certainly performs with lots of energy, running around the visually appealing set designed by David Lynn-Jones (complete with grand staircase, grandfather clock and lots of doors). Director Dan Higgs keeps it all moving along briskly enough—a good thing, since it’s the kind of nonsense that could easily wear out its welcome. Frequent VT stalwart Matt Erickson often dominates the stage as Leo, but he’s well-paired with Schneider as his long-suffering pal. And Alexis Janssen as that roller skater is a fortuitous first-timer for the theater.

Leading Ladies continues through April 19 on the VT mainstage; call 488-1115 or go to venicestage.com.

Monday, March 23, 2009

The Devil's Disciple

The Asolo Rep's The Devil's Disciple provides some abbreviated amusement.

By Kay Kipling

Sometimes, plays by George Bernard Shaw gain a reputation, deserved or not, for being longwinded. That’s certainly not the case with director-designer Tony Walton’s version of Shaw’s The Devil’s Disciple, now up on the Asolo Rep mainstage.

In fact, this production, which clocks in at only about 105 minutes with intermission, actually feels too short or sketchy overall. One may not miss specific lines of dialogue unless one’s very familiar with the play, but it feels as if some degree of character development is missing in any case.

The Devil’s Disciple, Shaw’s only play set in America, takes place during the American Revolution in a New Hampshire town about to be overrun by British troops (who will soon find themselves on the run). The opening scene shows us Mrs. Dudgeon (Carolyn Michel) dealing with news of the death of not only her disreputable brother-in-law (whom she secretly loved long ago), but of her husband as well. Worse news, as far as she’s concerned: Her husband made a new will before dying that leaves not her, but her wayward elder son, Dick (Dan Donohue), as the chief heir.

Dan Donohue in the Asolo Rep’s The Devil’s Disciple.

One gets the feeling that Dick cares not so much for the money as for getting some form of payback against his rigidly religious mother, for he’s chosen a very different path and cares nothing for religious and social conventions. But when British officers arrest him by mistake instead of the town’s minister, the Rev. Anthony Anderson (James Clarke), Dick finds some reason within him to leave the mistake uncorrected—perhaps for the sake of the minister’s pretty young wife, Judith (Heather Kelley), with whom he seems to have a rapport despite her initial dislike.

It may be a heroic gesture, although Dick denies it. Nevertheless, in Act II he’s about to be strung up unless someone intervenes, and quickly.

As the “devil’s disciple,” Donohue is spirited and fun to watch; he’s been notable in more somber roles earlier this Asolo season, but Dick Dudgeon gives him a chance to play, and he’s irresistible. The awkward scene between him and Judith, when she first gets an inkling of attraction to him, is nicely done, and Act II offers some typically witty Shaw lines (many of them in the mouth of Douglas Jones as the cynical British General Burgoyne). There’s also some nice comedic work by Kevin O’Callaghan as Dick’s younger, semi-idiot brother.

Most of the other characters feel unrealized, however, and the first 15 minutes of the play are too slow and unfocused, with Michel, on opening night at least, struggling a bit with her lines. The Colonial-looking set by Walton, the lovely lighting by James D. Sale, and the period costumes (also by Walton with a hand from Rebecca Lustig) give audiences a reason to keep their eyes on the stage, though.

The Devil’s Disciple continues in rotating rep through May 24; for tickets call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Talking with Tony Walton

Renowned designer-director Tony Walton reunites with Shaw in the Asolo Rep's The Devil's Disciple.

By Kay Kipling

Tonight’s Asolo Rep opening of George Bernard Shaw’s The Devil’s Disciple is one more connection in a long history between director-designer Tony Walton and the famed Irish-born playwright.

Walton has directed the play before, for the Irish Rep, but beyond that, he says he’s always had a special affinity for Shaw. (Maybe that’s partly because, as he says, “My dad was his last doctor. I never met Shaw, but as kids we sort of used to peer around the gate, you know.”) When he spoke to a group of Asolo donors recently, he says, “One of them said he’d seen the last four Shaw plays done here and was bored by them. I said, ‘Perhaps they left the fun out.’ Shaw loved to have fun. It reminds me so much of Chekhov; his plays are meant to be comedies, but so often they’re not done that way. I think Shaw gives us the license to adapt his work a little, because he did that so much himself.”

To that end, Walton has trimmed The Devil’s Disciple, Shaw’s only play set in America and one first performed on Broadway with a cast of more than 130 (including two bands!), both in length and in cast size (15 actors will take to the Asolo stage). But he thinks the play, set during the American Revolution in 1777, will continue to bear relevance to today’s audiences.

“In the play, of course, the troops involved are the British troops, and they’re the bullies, just as some other countries have perceived American troops in Iraq,” says the British-born director. “And the power of the religious right wing in the recent past is definitely comparable to the sort of religious authority issues in The Devil’s Disciple.”

Talking with Walton in the Asolo’s green room, it’s tempting to stray off topic of the Shaw play, though, because, with about 60 years in the business, Walton (who comes across as warm and likable) is a font of theater and film stories, having worked with seemingly everyone worth knowing. He started out wanting to be an actor, he says, but quickly became self-conscious onstage and decided to work behind the scenes instead. Through the 1950s and 1960s, he designed for both New York and London stages, winning Tony nods for his set and costume designs in a career ranging from Pippin to Chicago to House of Blue Leaves onstage, first entering the world of motion pictures as costume designer for Mary Poppins (which starred ex-wife Julie Andrews) and snagging an Oscar for All That Jazz.

But he plunged into the world of directing after making a remark in an interview with New York film critic John Simon that, if he were ever offered the chance to direct, he’d choose Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest. Irish Rep artistic director Charlotte Moore quickly got in touch, he says, “saying ‘I’m calling your bluff.’ So I did it, with an amazing cast that included Eileen Heckart and Eric Stoltz. You know, as a designer you have to think as a director anyway, to create a geography that will make the story interesting. But I do find, when wearing these different hats, that the designer and the director will sometimes disagree with one another.”

Walton says he found with the Asolo repertory cast in Disciple that, “As expected, you get some people who are ideally cast and some that are not obvious. But in the process of rehearsing, we found that the people who were not obvious at first brought fresh colors to the piece. I don’t believe anyone will think any actor here is miscast.”

Walton lives in New York City (on Broadway, of course) and says he has no plans to find a home in Sarasota (he worked here previously designing A Tale of Two Cities). But he adds that he would love to work at the Asolo again. Next up, though, a long-awaited New York production of the musical Busker Alley, and working on a new movie with film legend Sidney Lumet. No retirement plans loom, either. “I’m a theater critter,” Walton says. “I don’t think I could ever quit.”

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Murderers

Behind the scenes at a killer community in the Asolo Rep's Murderers.

By Kay Kipling

Watching Jeffrey Hatcher’s Murderers, currently playing in rotation at the Asolo Rep, I had flashes of déjà vu that took me all the way back to 1950s television shows like Alfred Hitchcock Presents. Remember those clever little bits of murder and mayhem neatly delivered in just half an hour, with Hitch introducing what we were about to see and then, at the end of the show, drolly reminding us that the evildoers, no matter how smart, inevitably paid for their crimes?

That’s something like the way Murderers works, only we get three half-hour episodes in one evening (and no Hitch). All three stories, told in monologues by the killers themselves, are set in a fictional (but very familiar) golfing/retirement community in a place much like Sarasota (here called Riddle Key). Though the three actors onstage speak only to us, not to each other, we do see connections between them, and they all share certain neighbors or doctors in common.

For starters, there’s Gerald (Bryan Torfeh), a dapper gent who marries his girlfriend’s dying mother (with the girlfriend’s permission) in order for them to inherit without paying onerous death taxes. But things get complicated when another gigolo type appears and Gerald has to face up to some conflicting emotions about his marriage of convenience—and commit a crime he never intended to at all.

In the second story, the crime is very much planned, by Lucy (Ann Morrison), half of a long-married couple, whose retirement with her husband is upset when a rival from the past turns up and threatens to destroy her marriage—again. Lucy’s plan to pay both hubby and hussy back involves lots of prescription drugs (apparently not a problem to get when you’re an old person who can convince a pharmacist of your forgetfulness) and some key timing of absences and appearances during a club party.

Mercedes Herrero in the Asolo Rep’s Murderers.

In the third story, we meet longtime Riddle Key community employee Minka (Mercedes Herrero), who again gets into her line of work more or less by accident, when she righteously does away with an avaricious couple who can’t be bothered to take good care of an aging mother. Since there’s lot of that “lock ’em up and forget about ’em” mentality in Riddle Key’s family dynamics, she’s got plenty to keep her busy—until it looks like she’s going to be blackmailed into doing her employer’s less altruistically inspired bidding. Fortunately, her favorite mystery writer of all time just happens to be living at Riddle Key, and may have a way out of her predicament…

All three stories are fun, filled with telling detail (accurate but not overdone references to Metamucil, Murder She Wrote and watching Jeopardy! on TV), and presented with just the right smart comedic tone by cast and director Mark Rucker. Clocking in at around 90 minutes with no intermission, Murderers is an entertainment calculated to leave you smiling rather than rolling in the aisles, but in times like these, we’ll take it.

Murderers plays through May 23; for tickets call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Friday, March 13, 2009

Titanic, the Musical

The Players sail into history with the epic Titanic, the Musical.

By Kay Kipling

A community theater presenting its version of the massive Tony Award-winning epic, Titanic, the Musical? The jokes about sinking, drowning, disaster and shipwreck practically write themselves.

So, take a deep breath and prepare yourself for reality: The Players production of this Maury Yeston-Peter Stone show is, by and large, an achievement to be proud of. Challenging as it may be to imagine (or bring to life) such a large cast and dramatic story on the Players stage, director/choreographer Bob Trisolini and his cast and crew have found the way to do it.

Not that every single thing about Titanic, the Musical works. But the occasional awkward moment, clunky line or tortured lyric is usually more the fault of the show itself than of the production we see here.

Kathryn Ohrenstein in the Players production of Titanic, the Musical.

The show begins in Southampton, England, where the Titanic’s designer, Thomas Andrews (Chris Caswell), takes us into the mind of humankind, always seeking to create something enduring (In Every Age). Then we see the various crew members and passengers preparing to board the gangplank of this beautiful, unsinkable ship. And we really do get a good cross-section of characters here, from the millionaires of first class, like John Jacob Astor and Benjamin Guggenheim, to a second-class hardware shop owner and his social-climbing wife (Joe Hunter and Susan Cole) to the third-class Irish girls looking for a better life (all named Kate, they’re played by Kathryn Ohrenstein, Samantha Johnson and Libby Fleming) to the ship’s doomed captain (Steve Dragon), noble stoker (Brian Rudolph) and owner J. Bruce Ismay (Mark Shoemaker), whose determination that the Titanic become a legend ends up succeeding in the most painfully ironic way.

And then…as the gangplank moves away, the deck and portholes of Titanic move up, and we’re off to sea.

Changes of scene and time are announced by a bellboy as the musical provides the obvious but necessary opportunities to peek into the hopes and dreams of the characters (most based on their real-life counterparts). In a show of this size, it’s hard to single out even a few standout performances or moments, but here goes with some I remember: stoker Barrett (compellingly played by Rudolph), sweating away as he remembers trying to escape from the coal mines, and later, sending his girlfriend a message with the help of a young and eager radio man (Rafael Petlock, who also scores with his rendition of The Night Was Alive); the three Kates, planning for their new lives in America in Lady’s Maid; that hardware store owner’s wife (Susan Cole in an engaging comic relief role) crashing the first-class saloon; the haunted feeling of No Moon as the cast wanders the stage just before the iceberg impact; and, in Act II, the high drama of The Blame as the Titanic’s owner, designer and captain desperately cast about for answers, and, finally, the touching lifeboat scene and the last minutes of the Titanic, as Andrews/Caswell describes what we actually see happening: victims rolling or plunging down a slanted deck to their deaths.

Although I can understand the impulse for it, personally I would have edited out the song Still here, depicting the long love between Isidor Straus (Jack Eddleman) and his wife (Jeanne Larranaga), because it slows the tense drama of the climactic scenes. But that number got much applause from the audience, so what do I know?

At two hours and 45 minutes, with a big tale to unfold, Titanic the Musical may falter slightly on occasion. But overall, it’s most impressive. Kudos to director Trisolini and all who sail with him.

Titanic the Musical continues through March 29; call 365-2494 or visit theplayers.org.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

The Crooners

Get ready to move with Westcoast Black Theatre Troupe's The Crooners.

By Kay Kipling

In the mood for some good old-fashioned soul? You could do a lot worse than show up for a performance of Westcoast Black Theatre Troupe’s The Crooners, now onstage at Art Center Sarasota.

Before I go any further, let me say that The Crooners may seem an odd title for the show, if you’re thinking of voices like Bing Crosby’s or Tony Martin’s. Different generation, dude. The singers whose work is on display here range from Stevie Wonder to The Temptations to Marvin Gaye to Lionel Richie—and even to Godfather of Soul James Brown, who most definitely was not a crooner.

But don’t let a little matter of nomenclature get in the way of enjoying a high-energy evening of music from the ’70s with a few familiar dance moves thrown in. As WBTT did with its earlier production this season of Sistas in the Name of Soul, this show incorporates a lot of hits in a fast-moving show that just begs for audience participation.

(Almost too many hits, perhaps, as the decision was wisely made to delete a few numbers that appeared in the program book. A show like this should clock in under two hours, and The Crooners just barely makes that cutoff.)

It’s easy to get in the groove of songs like Signed, Sealed, Delivered, My Girl, You Make Me Feel Brand New, Working My Way Back to You, Babe—the list goes on. The four main voices on display—Nate Jacobs, Charles Manning, Leon Pitts II and Henry Porter II—all have their strengths, from sweet falsettos to more raunchy growls. (For some performances, they’re joined for a few numbers by young Christopher Eisenberg, who’s a crowd-pleaser with his Michael Jackson leads on old Jackson 5 tunes). Both united and on solo efforts, those voices sound fine.

And they’re backed up by a very strong band under the musical direction of James E. Dodge II. Apparently the keyboardist was a nearly last-minute substitute, but that wasn’t a problem on the night I attended, where an enthusiastic crowd couldn’t resist standing up and moving around along with the performers. There was a lot of electricity flowing back and forth between audience and cast.

In fact, here’s a tip, ladies: If you want to be crooned to in a very flattering way, be sure to grab a seat in the front row. It just may make your night.

The Crooners continues for selected dates through April 12. For tickets go to srqboxoffice.com.

Monday, March 09, 2009

...and L.A. is Burning

A different take on a traumatic time with Florida Studio Theatre's ...and L.A. is Burning.

By Kay Kipling

You might expect a work titled …and L.A. is burning, dealing, from a distance, with the aftermath of the Rodney King/police beating trial, to be heavy stuff. But that’s not the direction writer Y York takes with her play, now onstage at Florida Studio Theatre’s Stage III at the Gompertz Theatre.

To begin with, we don’t see any of that famous footage of the beating, although we do hear audio clips of news reports of the trial and public comment. To continue, the play is not set in L.A. itself, but in Seattle. And finally, York uses comedy more than drama to make her points about racism and relationships.

The relationships here are between three people: government office workers Haddie (Susan Greenhill), who’s white, and Alvin (Lelund Durond Thompson), who’s black, and the third point in the triangle, a fervent/strident writer about economics and race, Sylvia (Celeste Ciulla). Although Sylvia and Haddie are temporary neighbors, the highly educated Sylvia, something of an East Coast snob, would normally have no interest in being friendly with Haddie, whose background and upbringing have left her terminally ignorant and naïve in many ways. But a comment Haddie makes about racism being like Communism intrigues the researcher in Sylvia, enough so that she agrees to have coffee with Haddie. And Haddie, meanwhile, is forming a friendship of sorts with Alvin, whose agreement to help her with her reports at work may have more to do with his desire for a promotion than any spirit of philanthropy.

For all of them, the effort to truly communicate is a fumbling—and, as directed by Kate Alexander—frequently funny one. While Ciulla and Thompson are both fine, it’s Greenhill who dominates (not in a bad way) the evening. Her Haddie is appealing and appalling at the same time—a nervous wreck of a woman addicted to cigarettes and watching the Cosby Show, a character who carries her new pet goldfish with her to work and talks to it as if it could understand her. You may wonder how someone like Haddie ever got her job in the first place; she seems so singularly ill-equipped to perform. But then the occasional illuminating remark escapes her lips, and we find ourselves caring for her in her daily struggle to make sense of the world.

There may not be any earth-shaking revelations in …and L.A. is Burning, but it’s well enough written and performed to draw us in and keep us there. It continues through March 19; for tickets call 366-9000 or go to floridastudiotheatre.org.

Thursday, March 05, 2009

Miss Julie

The FSU/Asolo Conservatory tackles the strife of Strindberg with Miss Julie.

By Kay Kipling

Fans of the FSU/Asolo Conservatory’s theater seasons know that the process of putting them together involves allowing the MFA students to learn to play in differing styles, from classical to contemporary to experimental. The current production of August Strindberg’s naturalistic play, Miss Julie, is one more example of that variety at work, and it must have posed an interesting challenge for its three main actors.

Strindberg frequently dealt with the battle of the sexes (and not in that amusing-it-all-turns-out-OK-in-the-end way, either). In Miss Julie he’s also dealing with issues of class, at least as those issues existed in 1890s Sweden.

Sarah Gavitt and Peter Mendez in the FSU/Asolo Conservatory production of Miss Julie.

The plays opens with Jean (Peter Mendez), valet to a count, describing to the household’s cook and his apparent fiancée, Christine (Nissa Perrott), how their mistress, Miss Julie (Sarah Gavitt) is behaving on this midsummer eve’s night—wildly dancing with the servants and forgetting the difference in their stations in a way that will make her the target of criticism and disrespect. Jean’s motivations are certainly mixed: In one way, he cannot escape the soul of a servant despite being more worldly and more traveled than most; in another, he may actually feel something for Miss Julie; in yet another, he’d like to take advantage of the situation with her to further his own lot in life.

That looks like it could happen as the evening progresses and Miss Julie becomes ever more flirtatious and risk-taking. The product of an anguished marriage, she feels hate for men while at the same time drawn to Jean, and as she tells him her dream of being trapped high on a pillar, from which she longs to fall/escape, we know where things are headed for this mismatched couple in the midst of midsummer madness.

But what happens after Julie and Jean have satisfied their lust/love? Things cannot go back to the way they were. Will they fly together before her father, the count, returns home? Or will they crush each other in an ever escalating, ever vacillating struggle for the upper hand that takes place in the claustrophobic atmosphere of the count’s kitchen? Who will, in the end, be the stronger character?

This is not easy stuff to bring to a modern-day stage (any more than it must have been more than 100 years ago). Some of the psychological baggage the characters carry might seem trite or outdated now, but there’s no denying the tension in the air, a tension that still exists between male and female. And in general the Conservatory actors do a creditable job of portraying these people from a very different time and place, headed for a tragically inevitable ending.

Miss Julie (running 90 minutes with no intermission) continues on the Cook Theatre stage through March 22; for tickets call 351-8000 or visit asolo.org.

Monday, February 23, 2009

The Sound of Music

Venice Theatre is alive with The Sound of Music.

By Kay Kipling

Just when you thought you couldn’t stand to see The Sound of Music one more time, along comes a production that makes it pleasant to watch again.

Not that Venice Theatre’s production of this classic Rodgers and Hammerstein musical offers anything new or unusual, or even that outstanding. No, it’s just the realization that for most if not all of the people onstage, this is the first time they’ve been in the show—and their energy and spirit convince you to come along for the ride.

Alyssa Marie Hunek and Joseph Giglia in Venice Theatre’s The Sound of Music.

Take for example Alyssa Marie Hunek in the pivotal role of postulant-turned-governess Maria, who arrives at the Von Trapp home fresh from the convent to bring music and love to the family once more. Hunek is not yet a polished presence on stage, but she looks like she could be a young Austrian girl of the 1930s, with a healthy, rosy bloom and a voice that soars when it needs to. She also has a nice rapport with all the actors playing the Von Trapp children, and hearing the well-known Do-Re-Mi number done here reminds you what an act of simple genius it was on the part of the composer to create this as both a personal and a musical introduction for the characters.

Or take Emily Mounce and Will Betterton as young couple Liesl and Rolf. Again, for them it’s the first time they’re telling this story of forbidden courtship, and when they do Sixteen Going on Seventeen it’s charming even if you’ve heard it a hundred times before.

Even the growing spark between Maria and her employer, the stiffish Captain (Joseph Giglia), works better here than some times I’ve seen it, for it truly does seem like a surprise to each as they gradually discover an attraction they would never have expected.

Of course this is a community theater production, and that’s both its strength and its weakness, in a way. Not everyone in the ensemble—nuns, party guests, servants, etc.—seems comfortable or confident, but Laurie Colton and Bob Miller add some liveliness and sophistication as worldly outsiders Elsa and Max. Overall, this Sound succeeds well enough for R&H fans.

The Sound of Music continues through March 15; for tickets call 488-1115 or go to venicestage.com.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Damn Yankees

A musical classic gets a new look with the Manatee Players' Damn Yankees.

By Kay Kipling

Just in time for spring training, the Manatee Players are presenting that baseball-themed classic musical, Damn Yankees. It’s a tried-and-true perennial, but this production offers up some surprises.

The energy of the show is felt immediately as you approach the theater, as you’re greeted by the Pittsburgh Pirates mascot, hawkers of popcorn and peanuts and other cast members milling about the lobby. The Pirates, who’ve for decades held their spring training games in Bradenton, are producers of the musical, and that explains why Pirates uniforms are all over the stage, instead of the traditional Washington Senators, longtime losers to those hated New York Yanks.

There’s another obvious change, too. When Pirates fan Joe Boyd (Rodd Dyer) agrees to sell his soul to the devil, aka Mr. Applegate (Ken Basque), for a chance to help the Pirates to a winning season, he emerges from the deal not only a younger, healthier man, but as a young black man, Joe Hardy (Charles McKenzie), as well. It works, and many other things about the show do, too.

For starters, director/choreographer Rick Kerby has a strong ensemble cast of ball players, wives, reporters and assorted baseball fans, whom he moves about the stage efficiently and for maximum fun. The dance numbers may not hit the giddy heights of professional stagings, but the performers please with their simpler but appropriate routines.

Kerby’s also blessed with strong performances from the leads. Dyer and Meg Newsome, who’ve worked together numerous time on the Manatee stage, are a convincing middle-aged couple who may have occasional squabbles but find how much they miss and need each other when separated. McKenzie, with a strong dancer’s physique, is believable as a young ball player and likable as well, especially when fending off the advances of the siren Lola (Melanie Dan, who may not dance like Gwen Verdon but can certainly move her body in ways designed to seduce).

Tahlia Byers as girl reporter Gloria Thorpe is perkily energetic and upbeat, especially on the number Shoeless Joe from Hannibal Mo. Basque, a frequent performer for the Manatee Players, didn’t seem quite as at ease as usual as Mr. Applegate, but he certainly has his moments, especially when taunting poor young Joe Hardy, ruing his mistake in allowing him an escape clause, and on the “nostalgia” number Those Were the Good Old Days.

The costumes by Georgina Willmott and the set by Marc Lalosh add to the playful atmosphere of Damn Yankees, and Michael Sebastian’s musical direction and small orchestra lend consistent and lively support.

Damn Yankees runs through March 15; for tickets call 748-5875 or go to manateeplayers.com.

Friday, February 13, 2009

The Importance of Being Earnest

A mild version of Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest takes to the Players stage.

By Kay Kipling

Fair warning: Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest holds a rather special place in my heart. Although I’ve read and seen it countless times, I still revel in the brilliance of Wilde’s wit, and there are certain lines of dialogue I can repeat by heart.

I missed a few of those lines on opening night of the Players Theatre production of Earnest; it’s my guess director Pamela Wiley trimmed the play a little to fit it into a two-hour (with intermission) running time. There are still laughs to be had, though, and the characters of young men-about-town Jack Worthing and Algy Moncrieff, their respective love interests, Gwendolen and Cecily, Lady Bracknell, governess Miss Prism and rector Dr. Chasuble remain classic.

But this Earnest is a bit more mild than it is Wilde. Director Wiley has chosen to have these archetypal characters portrayed more as real people than caricatures—an understandable decision, perhaps, but when you’re used to seeing them all played to the comic hilt, one that reduces some of Wilde’s sting. The play here feels more like an amusing piece about this handful of people and their situation (replete with deceptions and confused identities), and less like any sort of social comment or satire on British society in the 1890s.

On opening night there was a line stumble or two, but nothing major, and the cast overall succeeds in maintaining the right accents and attitudes. Both Justin Irwin as Jack and Nicole Samsel as Gwendolen could alter their facial expressions more; Irwin in particular seems to have a perpetual smile of sorts on his face, even when it’s not appropriate to what he’s hearing from other characters. Jeremy Heideman and Leah Page fare rather better as the other pair of lovers, and Jan Wallace as Lady Bracknell is suitably dragonlike, although she could be even more fearsome as she lays down the law to everyone around her. Linda MacCluggage as Miss Prism, Leslie Dawley as Dr. Chasuble and David Boza in dual roles as servants Lane and Merriman all have a moment or two in the comedy spotlight.

This production of The Importance of Being Earnest won’t go down at the top of my list of productions of the play that I’ve seen, but it still provides some entertainment. The show continues through Feb. 22; for tickets call 365-2494 or go to theplayers.org.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Boleros for the Disenchanted

A play about love and marriage with FST's Boleros for the Disenchanted.

By Kay Kipling

With Valentine’s Day this month, it’s an auspicious time for Florida Studio Theatre to present Jose Rivera’s Boleros for the Disenchanted, a play about a couple told in scenes set 39 years apart.

That doesn’t mean Boleros is exactly a big happy Valentine. Although it is romantic, it is also real in its telling of what happens over the course of a long marriage. (Hint: It’s not all good.)

Boleros starts out on the island of Puerto Rico in 1953, in the small town of Miraflores. (And flores, or flowers, are evident everywhere, in the set decoration and in the actresses’ dresses, making for a pretty picture to look at.) There the young and innocent Flora, another flower (Rainbow Dickerson), is brooding about the gossip she’s heard regarding her fiancé, Manuelo (David Perez-Ribada), and other girls. She loves him intensely, but that intensity is matched with a need for him to be completely faithful, which he insists is just not in a man’s nature.

Marina Re, Damian Buzzerio and Rainbow Dickerson in FST’s Boleros for the Disenchanted.

Flora’s parents (Marina Re and Damian Buzzerio) are pretty quick to anger over the matter, too. When Flora decides to definitely break off her engagement, they send her for a trip to visit her more worldly cousin (Stacie Lents), in hopes she’ll get over her broken heart. And she does eventually—helped along by a chance meeting with a young man in uniform, Eusebio (Carlos Alberto Valencia), whose promises of love lure her into trusting again.

The second half of the play takes us to a small town in Alabama in 1992, where we learn what has happened to that young, lovely couple over the years—children, hardship, health problems and more. Their long marriage has, Flora believes, provided them with the wisdom and experience to help another young couple on the verge of matrimony decide whether they’re really ready for that commitment. Here Re and Buzzerio take on the roles of the older Flora and Eusebio, and they continue to effectively deliver the balance of laughter and tears that Rivera packs into his work.

Some of the action is very funny indeed, as in an uproarious “deathbed” scene when Eusebio, convinced he’s going to die, is ministered to by a priest whose graphic talk of “union,” both sexual and religious, unsettles both Flora and the nurse attending Eusebio. And Rivera and the FST cast successfully switch gears when Flora’s anger at Eusebio’s last confession erupts—and yet again in the final scene, which is bound to draw tears from many watchers.

In general, Rivera writes poetically and yet earthily (although some of the interaction with the young couple in the second act feels a bit talky and forced). But he manages that essential feat for a playwright, of bringing us unique and highly individual characters in a particular place and time that, no matter the audience’s backgrounds, we can nevertheless all relate to. It’s a play about love and marriage and the whole damn thing that’s worth seeing.

Boleros for the Disenchanted continues through April 3 on FST’s mainstage; call 366-9000 or go to floridastudiotheatre.org.

Monday, February 09, 2009

Tosca

The Sarasota Opera triumphs with a compelling Tosca.

By Kay Kipling

For a relative latecomer to opera such as myself, one frequent complaint has been that while the music, the voices and the settings are beautiful, the storylines can be far-fetched and the characters too thinly drawn. Not the case with the Sarasota Opera’s 50^th anniversary season opening of Puccini’s Tosca, which boasts not only great music and singing but a tale of love, treachery and tragedy that’s clear enough—and three-dimensional enough—for any opera newbie to appreciate.

For those who may not know, this melodrama is set in Rome in 1800, just as Napoleon’s army is fighting a decisive battle that could determine Italy’s political future. In the personal story we’re told, the painter Mario Cavaradossi (Rafael Davila) is drawn into helping an escaped political prisoner and friend, Angelotti (Erick Kroncke), get away from his dogged (and wicked) pursuer, the chief of police, Scarpia (Grant Youngblood). The title character is Floria Tosca (Kara Shay Thomson), a celebrated singer and Cavaradossi’s lover, who has one fatal flaw: jealousy.

When she finds her lover painting a portrait of another woman, she immediately suspects him of infidelity. He’s able to convince her of his true love, but as the story unfolds Scarpia’s own illicit passion for Tosca places the lovers in a terrible quandary. Mario is tortured, and an anguished Tosca is forced to reveal Angelotti’s hiding place and surrender to Scarpia in order for the two to survive—or else deal with Scarpia in a more final and brutal way.

As revealed in the libretto by Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giacosa and under the excellent stage direction of Stephanie Sundine, the story is intimate and compelling, with no wasted moments spent on extraneous scenes or songs that don’t move the action along. Puccini’s music, feelingly conducted by Victor DeRenzi, is both powerful and powerfully sung by the leads. Thomson richly deserves her applause after the heart-rending aria vissi d’arte, vissi d’amore (“I lived on art, I lived on love”), and Davila’s preparation to be executed while recalling memories of past happiness (E lucevan la stelle) is also potent.

But even above Tosca herself, perhaps the most memorable character here is Scarpia, and he’s chillingly portrayed by Youngblood. A sadistic villain with nothing to excuse his behavior, during the course of the evening Scarpia/Youngblood seems a combination of Darth Vader, Lord Voldemort and Dick Cheney, all rolled into one big, evil package.

All told, a highly satisfying evening at the opera house. Tosca continues in performances on selected dates through March 29; for tickets call 366-8450 or go to sarasotaopera.org.

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

Sistas in the Name of Soul

Westcoast Black Theatre Troupe gets down with Sistas in the Name of Soul.

By Kay Kipling

When the Westcoast Black Theatre Troupe was forced to reconsider its 2009 season plans (including finding a new venue) due to tough economic times, one wondered if the company could survive and if so, in what form. Right now, at least, WBTT is hanging in there with performances at Art Center Sarasota, an intimate space that seems just about right for the current production, a musical called Sistas in the Name of Soul.

Sistas is part of WBTT’s trilogy of music from the 1970s (look for crooners and duets later this season), although if you want to be technical, a few of the songs in this revue date from the late 1960s. But that’s understandable; if you were putting together a revue of soul music performed by females, how could you leave out Aretha Franklin’s Respect?

The four performers in Sistas (Tsadok Porter, Whitney Reshard, Nisi Weaver and Jnana Wilson) have all appeared in WBTT shows before, and they seem comfortable, for the most part, with the up-close environs of Art Center, singing and shimmying on a small black platform and playing to the audience in the round. Often one singer takes the mike while the others do backup, but each performer gets a chance to really shine solo in the spotlight, too.

And the audience responds by singing and moving along (there are also brief bits where the cast wanders over to selected audience members and brings them into the action). The songs range from lively booty shakers (I’m So Excited, Proud Mary) to feeling ballads (Neither One of Us, Midnight Train to Georgia). There’s very little spoken word here, which is fine in that we probably don’t need much history or background regarding these popular songs and the women who sang them; but some more verbal interaction among the “sistas” from time to time would be welcome.

That said, it’s really all about the music, and with more than 30 songs in the course of the evening (two hours with intermission), Sistas delivers that. If you’re not ready to stand up and sing along by the closing number (Sister Sledge’s We Are Family, of course), you probably should have your pulse checked.

Sistas in the Name of Soul continues at Art Center Sarasota for selected dates through Feb. 22; for tickets go to srqboxoffice.com.

Monday, February 02, 2009

Visiting Mr. Green

Humor and heart with the Asolo Rep's Visiting Mr. Green.

By Kay Kipling

From the opening scene of Visiting Mr. Green, now onstage at the Historic Asolo Theater in an Asolo Rep production, it’s a pleasure to admire not only the actors onstage, but the comic timing of both playwright Jeff Baron and director Howard J. Millman.

That first scene sets up the premise of the two-character play in precisely doled out amounts of humor, with a clear look ahead to possible pathos. Mr. Green (David S. Howard) is an elderly widower living alone in his Upper West Side apartment in New York, still in mourning for the loss of his longtime wife. His “visitor,” Ross (Kraig Swartz), is a young, up-and-coming business exec whose punishment for almost hitting Green with his car is community service, i.e., checking in with his almost-victim weekly, making sure he’s eating properly and taking care of himself.

That proves quite a task, as Mr. Green, an observant Orthodox Jew with a full portion of cranky stubbornness, doesn’t want to be looked after. There are times when Ross (a fellow Jew, but a more secular one) almost walks away from his duty—but we know he won’t, and that in time a relationship will blossom that will help feed both their needs for family and understanding.

The revelation of the nature of those needs is not exactly a shock (certainly not to those who saw the Asolo’s earlier production of the play, also starring Howard, a decade or so ago); it’s pretty easy to guess both of the secrets the characters have been hiding (I won’t give them away here). But the actors work so well together that we’re not cheated of the emotions we want to feel even if we know what’s going to happen. And, as the many international productions of the play demonstrate, there’s something about estranged families, especially when the estrangement is between parent and child, that speaks to us all.

Visiting Mr. Green continues through March 1; call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org for ticket info.

Circus Sarasota

An outstanding Circus Sarasota show welcomes star Bello Nock back home.

By Kay Kipling

Longtime Sarasotans always look forward to the opening of Circus Sarasota each winter, and this year’s show is no exception. In fact, it’s a more exciting production than usual, thanks in large part to the presence of Sarasota native Bello Nock, a longtime star with the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus who has, as the Circus Sarasota promos have it, come home.

There’s no doubt, while other performers do very well here, too, that Bello, with his instantly identifiable shock of hair, wide smile and amazing acrobatic abilities, is the star of this show. That’s evident from the beginning, when he comes on encased in a colorful rolling cube and eventually pops out wearing a fat suit of sorts and boogie-ing to the music. It’s hard to even explain why what he’s doing is funny; it just is.

He comes back several times during the show, with a comedy trampoline act, an audience participation bit that involves shooting a balloon apple off the head of a “volunteer” with an invisible arrow, and finally, joining Pablo Rodriguez on the wheel high above the crowd. This last act is the sort of thing that really does have audience members holding their collective breath. But impressive as Bello is during this big daredevil act, he’s just as good in smaller moments, when he’s just sitting and interacting briefly with the crowd while watching someone else in the ring. He’s got star power in spades.

That’s not to ignore the other circus performers, several of whom are new this season. Among them: the lovely and delicate-looking Hong Wang with an amazing foot juggling act, and young (we mean young, only 14) contortionist Alexey Goloborodko, whose body just cannot be made of the same substance as most of us. The way he stretches and moves, with two ordinary folding chairs as his props, is simply unbelievable.

David Rosaire’s perky Pekes are still a hit, even if you’ve seen them jumping through hoops and climbing into the mini-stagecoach before. The same holds true for quick-change artists the Smirnovs, back once more, and for the aerial performances of longtime duo Dolly Jacobs and Yuri Rjkov. Overall, this season’s Circus Sarasota is one of the most satisfying in its history.

Monday, January 26, 2009

The Winter's Tale

A journey from darkness to light in the Asolo Rep's The Winter's Tale.

By Kay Kipling

Of all playwrights, Shakespeare perhaps gives the director the broadest range of interpretative possibilities. Certainly the past 400 years or so have allowed for many exercises in artistic vision in terms of time period, setting and topicality of the overall message, while adhering to the playwright’s original verse.

The Asolo Rep’s current production of The Winter’s Tale, often considered one of the bard’s more problematic plays, takes advantage of those opportunities. Tale is a challenge, because it really feels like three plays in one. The first portion is dark and brooding, as we see the noble King Leontes’ reason so overthrown that he believes his loving wife, Hermione, and his longtime friend, Polixenes, are being unfaithful to him. So sudden and yet so entrenched is this belief that he cannot and will not listen to any evidence proving the contrary, and his court and country as well as his family are thrown into turmoil because of his blind passion.

The second portion of Tale switches gears completely to a pastoral setting, 16 years later, where shepherds and shepherdesses frolic to happy music; and the third yanks us back to the world of the first portion—only in time to see a happy ending that’s not based in reality as we know it, but born of our race’s innate longing for redemption, forgiveness and group hugs.

Director Michael Donald Edwards has chosen an era of rapid changes—the early 1950s to the late 1960s—in which to base his version of The Winter’s Tale, which means we get to see some pretty cool props and costumes (think moon landings and hippie garb). The first section of the production features cool, repressed grays with blazes of red; the second is a burst of bright psychedelic colors. The costumes (designed by David Zinn and Jacob Climer), the lighting and projections of Daniel Scully, and the scenic design of Clint Ramos are all stylishly done. And the mix of original music by composer Sarah Pickett and a familiar favorite (Good Morning, Starshine, anyone?), along with the playful choreography of Jimmy Hoskins in the second half, provides some welcome uplift.

But does the transplanting of the characters and situation to this period in our cultural history teach us anything new? For me, not especially. But it does not harm Shakespeare’s intent, either. There are strong performances by Dan Donohue as the tortured Leontes (we care about him even as he does great wrong), James Leaming and Mercedes Herrero as Antigonus and Paulina (a couple trying to do their duty by their rulers in their own ways), and Kris Danford as Hermione (although Danford could use more regality in her presence in her early scenes). And a contingent of third-year FSU/Asolo Conservatory students gets to shine in that musical comedy segment.

Heather Kelley and Kevin O’Callaghan in the Asolo Rep’s The Winter’s Tale.

Be warned: As might be expected, The Winter’s Tale makes for a longish evening (nearly three hours with intermission). But it’s involving and at times very lively, with a lot of good work to appreciate onstage.

The Winter’s Tale continues through May 16 in rotating rep; call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org for tickets.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Sugar

Musical mayhem with the Golden Apple's Sugar.

By Kay Kipling

It’s pretty tough to compete with a classic comedy film like Some Like It Hot, especially considering that the American Film Institute enshrined it as the funniest film ever a while back. Sugar, the 1972 musical stage version of that Billy Wilder hit starring Tony Curtis, Jack Lemmon and Marilyn Monroe (now playing at the Golden Apple Dinner Theatre), doesn’t quite live up to that reputation, but it’s pleasant enough entertainment.

As in the film, the action starts when out-of-work musicians Joe (Christopher Swan) and Jerry (Joey Panek) accidentally find themselves witnesses to the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre at the Clark Street Garage in Chicago. The Windy City may be cold, but it’s too hot for them, as mobster Spats Palazzo (Dewayne Barrett) is determined to hunt them down and rub them out.

So the boys take it on the lam to Florida with an all-girls band—meaning that, yes, just after the Apple’s latest production of La Cage aux Folles, we once again get to see men in drag. Becoming Josephine and Daphne in the twinkling of an eye, Joe and Jerry find the situation both appalling and appealing, since it means they end up in close quarters with the band’s winsome vocalist, Sugar Kane (Samantha Barrett). Both men would like to woo her (difficult wearing women’s clothing), but that gets tougher for Jerry to do when he/she becomes the object of affection for a yachting millionaire, Osgood Fielding Jr. (Roy Johns), with a history of multiple marriages.

As presented here, Sugar is fun if not a laugh riot. Swan and Panek are a good duo, and Panek especially gets his share of audience response the longer he’s a woman (and the more confused he gets about his own reactions to Osgood’s pursuit). Samantha Barrett doesn’t overdo the breathy Monroe voice; she remains something of a cartoon version of what every man evidently desires, but we still don’t want her to get “the fuzzy end of the lollipop” once again. Johns can’t live up to our memories of the matchless Joe E. Brown in the original (who could?), but he and his ensemble of naughty old men (hey, they need love, too) are entertaining in November Song, as they kick up their heels regardless of their canes. And Dewayne Barrett and his tap-dancing gangsters are a nice diversion, too.

The songs, by Broadway legends Jule Styne and Bob Merrill, are not among their best. The opening number, When You Meet a Girl in Chicago, can’t hold a candle to some other famous Chicago-related songs, and most of the others are fairly forgettable. Doin’ It for Sugar has a certain pizzazz to it, but you’re unlikely to leave the theater humming along to anything.

Sugar continues through March 22 at the Golden Apple; call 366-5454 or go to thegoldenapple.com for tickets.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Occupant

A portrait of the artist with Florida Studio Theatre Stage III's Occupant.

By Kay Kipling

Fans of famed sculptor Louise Nevelson may find Edward Albee’s Occupant, now onstage in a Florida Studio Theatre Stage III production at the Gompertz Theatre, fascinating in what it reveals about the artist and self-mythologizer. Those with less invested in learning about Nevelson’s life and career will still find it interesting, although perhaps more intermittently so.

Albee knew Nevelson well for years, and fortunately for him, her life gives him a chance to look once more at one of his favorite topics, the line between truth and illusion. In this case, that line is often blurred, as Nevelson apparently made up stories when it suited her in creating the public persona we’re familiar with. (“True, if interesting,” is the frequent aside spoken here.)

That persona is decked out in full regalia in actress Kate Alexander, who sweeps out onto the stage in a coat of many colors worn over back pants, with long beads, hoop earrings and, of course, those trademark false eyelashes standing out starkly from her face. She’s being interviewed (even though she’s dead) by another character called simply The Man (Patrick Noonan), who presses her for answers to many questions about her personal as well as professional life. And since Nevelson lived such a long and eventful life (born in a Russian shtetl in 1899, she died only 20 years ago), there’s a lot of ground to cover: her childhood feeling that she was “special,” which spawned a lifelong determination to discover just how; her unhappy marriage to a New York businessman and her unwilling entry into motherhood; her long and often unrewarded attempts to become an artist, despite periods of depression that sometimes kept her in bed for weeks at a time.

That battle to find “the space you occupy,” as Nevelson puts it, is convincing in Alexander’s portrayal, which is appropriately energetic and driven. Noonan, put in the sometimes thankless role of the interviewer, is seen as equally relentless in his own way in pursuing the truth or some version of it. (“Do facts mean anything to you?” he asks Nevelson in exasperation at one point. “They can be useful on occasion,” she replies.) But his motivation is less clear than Nevelson’s; why does he come on so strong with these questions? Is he a biographer, a scholar, a TV interviewer? (After all, both he and Nevelson interact with the audience, as they would in a TV studio). Why should he push so aggressively, and why would Nevelson allow him to?

Maybe that’s too literal a question to ask here; the important issue is that struggle to become something, which in Nevelson’s case finally occurred once she filled her house up with wood she had picked up off the streets and began to work with it in her own distinctive way. There may be lessons here to be applied to our own lives, but overall Occupant succeeds mostly in showing us Nevelson’s passion and will.

Occupant continues through Jan. 31; call 366-9000 or go to floridastudiotheatre.org for tickets.

Friday, January 16, 2009

The Spitfire Grill

The Players Theatre serves up a treat with The Spitfire Grill.

By Kay Kipling

Some of us may have vague memories of a 1996 film called The Spitfire Grill, which told the story of a young woman parolee who turns up in a small town in Maine and changes the lives of some of the townspeople. But most of us probably are not familiar with the 2001 musical of the same name, which transfers the locale to Wisconsin and features a decidedly happier ending to her story.

That’s the version that’s onstage now at the Players Theatre, and thanks to artistic director Jeffery Kin for bringing us a pleasant surprise in the midst of so many familiar (even if beloved) musicals on local stages. The Spitfire Grill has its own distinctive voice in the characters, the music (mostly country and bluegrass-tinged) and the way it draws us into the town of Gilead.

Bobbie Burrell, Kirk V. Hughes and Jennifer K. Baker in the Players’ The Spitfire Grill.

The parolee, Percy (Jennifer K. Baker, who recently starred in the Players’ Little Women as Jo), is tough on the outside but filled with longing on the inside, as evidenced by the magazine photo she carries of autumn leaves in Gilead, her reason for locating there. She has a past, which we know we’ll soon discover, but her present involves working in a grill owned by the equally tough-on-the-outside Hannah (Bobbie Burrell), who has a secret of her own. Soon they’re joined at the long-for-sale grill by Shelby (Ellie Pattison), whose husband Caleb (Bill Sarazen) has his masculine ego-related reasons for not wanting Shelby to work. Throw in the town gossip (Laura Sommer Raines) and the young sheriff (Kirk V. Hughes), who has his eye on Percy, and you have a full complement of small-town characters who need each other to achieve happiness.

They may find some sort of salvation in Percy’s idea to help Hannah get rid of the grill through a raffle system, where people from around the country send in money and write essays about why they would want the grill for themselves. You can probably tell where this is headed, in more ways than one, but that doesn’t mean you won’t enjoy getting there.

Director Kin (who also plays a small but pivotal nonspeaking role here) is fortunate in having a cast that can not only sing strongly separately but sounds impressive together as well. The score, by James Valcq, ranges confidently from lively (Out of the Frying Pan, Shoot the Moon) to stirring (The Colors of Paradise) to touching (When Hope Goes, Wild Bird). And designer Mike Gray’s rustic set works well to convey the grill, which becomes a home of sorts for more than one lost soul.

Considering the period the piece is set in (the mid 1980s) and the back story being told, some of the actors’ actual ages make the timeline a bit confusing. But that’s a minor concern with a show that holds so much spirit and heart.

The Spitfire Grill continues through Jan. 25; call 365-2494 or go to theplayers.org.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Escanaba in Da Moonlight

A north woods comedy takes to the Venice Theatre stage with Escanaba in Da Moonlight.

By Kay Kipling

If you’ve ever spent any time in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan—or even if you haven’t—you may appreciate Jeff Daniels’ play Escanaba in Da Moonlight, now showing at Venice Theatre.

The U.P., as it’s called, is evidently a pretty unique place, at least in Daniels’ version of things, which centers on a family deer camp at the start of hunting season. The story unfolds at first in the words of family patriarch Albert Soady (Tom Bahring), who starts off by telling us we may not believe everything he says. Sure enough, Escanaba is a north woods tall tale, one complete with UFOs and alien abductions, magic Ojibwa Indian potions, and—forgive me—farts so potent they can stun a catatonic man back to consciousness.

At the center of this comedy is the problem faced by Albert’s son Reuben (Jefferson Halpin), who in his mid-30s has never yet successfully bagged a buck. Considering the longstanding Soady tradition of deer hunters, that hurts, especially since younger brother Remnar (Dean Chandler Bowden) has certainly shot his share. Even Jimmer Nagamanee (William Czarniak), whose speech impediments and prodigious capacity for alcohol may be traced to that aforementioned alien abduction, has been luckier with bucks than Reuben.

So Reuben’s Native American wife concocts something sure to break his curse. And maybe that potion is somehow accountable for the strange white light and the ominous sounds that surround the deer camp…or maybe, as Ranger Tom Treado (Eric Schneider) believes, it’s God…or maybe it’s an incredible creature called a bearwok. Whatever it is, it causes quite a frenzy among the hunters, who run into each other screaming a lot, especially in Act II.

While it may be vulgar and extreme, Escanaba can also be very funny at times. The cast for the most part handles those U.P. accents well (think Canadian, really), although a few lines are indistinguishable (some are meant to be, as dialogue overlaps). Czarniak in particular deserves credit just for his willingness to do things onstage (like downing tremendous quantities of fluids in a messy manner) that most of us would balk at.

Donna Buckalter’s set design feels authentic and is always interesting to look at, with its collection of license plates, animal trophies and frosted windowpanes, although it’s surely much roomier than any real deer camp, due to the size of the stage. There’s a great deal of energy in the show, which may appeal more to men—and to Michiganders, hunters and lovers of fart jokes—than to those with more rarefied tastes. But most audience members should probably be able to squeeze out a few laughs here.

Escanaba in Da Moonlight continues through Feb. 1; call 488-1115 or go to venicestage.com for tickets.

Monday, January 12, 2009

The Music Man

Time for a little nostalgia with the Manatee Players' The Music Man.

By Kay Kipling

Sometimes an artistic director gets lucky in his choice of the right play at the right time. Just now, when Americans are probably yearning to feel good about themselves and the quintessential nature of America, Meredith Willson’s classic The Music Man, now onstage at the Manatee Players Riverfront Theatre, may be just the slice of small-town nostalgia we need.

No matter how many times you’ve seen this show (a staple on community theater stages), if it’s done right, this story of salesman Harold Hill, Marian the librarian and the townsfolk of River City, Iowa, should still entertain. And it does that in this production, where director/choreographer Scott Keys manages to make it all look easy.

That’s true from the opening number, Rock Island, with its well-known train cadences as we are introduced to Hill (Steve Dawson), the man with a plan to “sell” River City on a boys’ band, complete with uniforms and instruction booklets, although he doesn’t know a note of music himself. And the appropriate bright but warm mood continues as we meet his would-be buyers in Iowa Stubborn and Ya Got Trouble. Jean Boothby’s costumes, Michael A. Gray’s set and Michael Pasquini’s lighting all work together to establish the homey atmosphere of a 1912 Iowa town where many of would like to be about now.

For the most part, the cast lives up to expectations, too. Dawson, always an accomplished performer, sings, moves and acts with confidence, although there are times when his Harold could use a touch more of the rogue. That spirit does usually come forth in his scenes with the seemingly uptight Marian (Dianne Dawson), who sings beautifully on her solos as well as on partnerships with Harold and the town’s new barbershop quartet. Cilla Boyd likewise satisfies as Marian’s Irish mother, and Dawn Burns strikes the right note as the mayor’s self-satisfied wife. The show’s younger members are cute, although it’s sometimes hard to discern the words of Jackson Beyer as Winthrop Paroo, lisp or no lisp.

One other quibble: The very last scene of the show doesn’t have quite the impact it should, although it’s an understandable choice on director Keys’ part to have the band play as badly as it does, with the parents nevertheless still adoringly proud of their offspring.

Overall, though, The Music Man should be a crowd-pleaser. It continues onstage through Feb. 1; call 748-5875 or go to manateeplayers.com.

Inventing Van Gogh

A look at the myth of the tortured artist with the Asolo Rep's Inventing Van Gogh.

By Kay Kipling

The tortured life of Vincent van Gogh has provided good fodder for a number of plays, films, books and even a song or two. Latest in the lineup: Steven Dietz’s Inventing Van Gogh, onstage in an Asolo Repertory Theatre production.

The setup is intriguing: The curtain opens on an artist named Patrick Stone (Jason Peck), pacing around his studio easel as a storm rages outside. He’s soon visited by a French art expert (David Breitbarth), who wants him to attempt a forgery of a missing—and possibly never really painted—Van Gogh self-portrait. Why would Patrick do such a thing? It’s all tied up with the death of his mentor and friend, Dr. Jonas Miller (James Leaming), who had become obsessed with Van Gogh and especially with the idea of that final self-portrait, to the point of ignoring his daughter, Hallie (Heather Kelley), who in turn has had her own failed relationship with Patrick.

The plot gets even thicker when Patrick, who’s been drinking a good bit, starts hallucinating Van Gogh himself (Dan Donohue) and having long, revealing conversations with him. From there on the time flips back and forth between Vincent’s last days at the home of Dr. Gachet (also played by Leaming), who has a neglected daughter of his own (again, Kelley) and to the present time and Patrick’s dilemma.

Again, it’s a promising proposition, and Dietz’s dialogue, especially between Vincent and Patrick, is often enthralling to listen to. And some of the portrayals, most notably Donohue’s Vincent (leavened here with welcome flashes of humor), Leaming’s dual roles (his Gachet is a doctor afraid of surgery), and David Breitbarth as the robust Paul Gauguin (more successful with this role than playing the French mastermind of the scheme, who comes off a little like the main Nazi in Raiders of the Lost Ark), are compelling.

But ultimately, Inventing Van Gogh is rather frustrating. It’s hard to tell if the fault lies in the play itself or the production, but Peck’s Patrick comes across as a cipher, and his and other motivations here remain murky even to the end. Kelley is affecting as Marguerite Gachet, who has her own interest in Vincent; but her role as Hallie has her either playing overly angry or crying, which gets to be annoying.

With the often gorgeous lighting of Chris Ostrom (bringing to life Vincent’s favored yellows) and the eternal appeal of trying to figure out what makes Vincent—or any artist—tick, Inventing Van Gogh has its rewards. But too much feels unsatisfying by evening’s end.

Inventing Van Gogh continues in rotating rep through April 16; for tickets call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Friday, January 09, 2009

Reefer Madness: A Musical

High times at Venice Theatre's Stage II with Reefer Madness.

By Kay Kipling

Many of us probably have fond memories of the first time we watched the cult film Reefer Madness—probably on a college campus somewhere, as we giggled our way through the overacting, bad makeup and hysteria of this 1930s propaganda film against the evil weed. So there’s quite a natural audience out there for Reefer Madness: A Musical, making its area premiere at Venice Theatre’s Stage II.

Does it satisfy our nostalgia or at least meet our entertainment needs? With mixed results, but overall, yes.

In case you’ve somehow never seen or heard of Reefer Madness, here’s the setup: Good kids Jimmy Harper (Scott Vitale) and Mary Lane (Caitlin Longstreet) are pure and in love, until Jimmy decides to take dance lessons offered by the evil Jack (Steven O’Dea). Turns out those dance lessons are really just an excuse to get Jimmy to the Reefer Den, where with the help of slutty Sally (Sara Trembly) and motherly but hooked-on-marijuana Mae (Cara Herman), he takes a puff and instantly gets involved in an orgy.

Can’t be long before Jimmy’s robbing the church poor box and—excuse the expression—humping anything that moves. Can’t be long, either, before innocent Mary ends up at the Den herself, looking for her Jimmy. And it all goes downhill from there…

Reefer Madness must have been fun for director Kelly Wynn Woodland and her cast (a large one for the confines of Stage II) to stage, and much of that fun comes across to the audience as well. As the Lecturer who tells the story and delivers dire warnings, Jason Kimble sets the right tongue-in-cheek tone, and the performances of Vitale, Longstreet, Herman and O’Dea (who doubles as Jesus in scenes trying to save Jimmy from his fate) are especially strong. Some of the music is infectious, if not exactly addictive (The Stuff, Mary Jane/Mary Lane and The Brownie Song), and Kelly Burnette’s choreography is lively and appropriate if perhaps a bit cramped on the small stage.

There are lots of little bits here to enjoy (especially ones involving cars), but one problem is that so many of the lyrics cannot be distinguished, at least not if you’re in the back row near the musicians. Try to get there early and get a seat closer to the stage if you can—and if you’re not afraid of inhaling secondhand smoke.

Reefer Madness: A Musical runs through Feb. 1; call 488-1115 or go to venicestage.com.

Thursday, January 08, 2009

Blur

Focusing on the FSU/Asolo Conservatory's Blur.

By Kay Kipling

A play about a young woman threatened with impending blindness might seem pretty heavy going. As written by Melanie Marnich, a playwright who definitely sees things through her own set of eyes, that’s not the case with Blur, now onstage in an FSU/Asolo Conservatory production at the Cook Theatre.

Our heroine, Dot (Kirstin Franklin), is first glimpsed as a baby about to be born, and those opening moments, after she starts toddling around in her sleep suit, are cute and set the stage for the relationship between Dot and her mother (Sarah Gavitt), who’s increasingly eccentric and overprotective of her child—especially when they discover, as Dot turns 17, that she has a degenerative eye disease that was a genetic gift from a parent. (Dot’s father apparently never stuck around, so at first it’s easy to put the blame on him.)

Kirstin Franklin and Kevin Stanfa in the FSU/Asolo Conservatory’s Blur.

Although they’re close in some ways, Dot and her mother choose to deal with the problem differently: Mom by repeatedly trying to shut Dot in from the dangerous outside world, and Dot by reaching out to others closer to her own age, finding both a friend (Alexandra Guyker) in a tough-talking girl with a cleft palate and first love with a goofy guy who cleans cages at the zoo (Peter Mendez).

Through it all, Blur is composed of short, cinematically handled scenes, with a musical score behind the dialogue and little methods of keeping the tone light (such as cast members walking across the stage with signs to announce scene changes, or serving as handy props). The first act intrigues us, especially in scenes between Dot and her priest (Kevin Stanfa), who’s quirky but kind and definitely not in complete compliance with Vatican rules.

But Act II, as Dot continues to bond with her fellow misfits and learn how to make it on her own terms, feels, well, blurry—both predictable and sort of unfinished. That makes the evening less satisfying than it could be, although the cast (which also includes Ghafir Akbar in several roles, including that of the eye doctor who keeps fitting Dot with progressively stronger glasses) holds up its end of things. Marnich has a unique talent that’s evident here, but one wants more from the play’s conclusion.

Blur continues through Jan. 25; for tickets call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Monday, January 05, 2009

The Imaginary Invalid

The Asolo Rep’s The Imaginary Invalid provides post-holiday cheer.

By Kay Kipling

The Asolo Rep’s production of Moliere’s The Imaginary Invalid is probably just the cure for what ails you—whether it’s the economy, world politics or your own real or imagined health problems. More than 450 years after it first bowed, this comic concoction still breathes plenty of life onto the stage.

This new adaptation, by Constance Congdon, makes the action even easier to follow and works in a few extra laughs besides getting in most of the original’s. We meet wealthy hypochondriac Argan (Douglas Jones) in his home, a Looney Tunes set by Judy Gailen that’s as bright and fun as the situation: Argan has a gold-digging trophy wife (Kris Danford) who pretends to be all sweetness and light; a marriageable daughter (Elisabeth Ahrens) who really is, all while looking like a little dressed-up figurine in her costume by Eduardo Sicangco; a doctor (James Clarke) who will bleed him dry, especially with the help of his newly minted physician nephew (David Yearta); and, of course, a cheeky servant (Carolyn Michel) who’s the only person who can really solve any problems.

With the colorful, creative set and costumes and the almost constant action giving us plenty to watch, and with a little music sprinkled in amidst the Moliere, this Invalid should entertain anyone facing the post-holiday blahs. Under Greg Leaming’s direction, everything is played to the hilt; but we’re still capable of feeling a little affection as well as exasperation with Argan in his blindness to reality. Jones is very good as the center of the piece, adept at all the physical comedy expected of him (count on lots of fart jokes).

But every character gets his due, including a stuttering notary (Brent Bateman) who’s the evil stepmother’s accomplice; the daughter’s hopeful lover (Randolph Paulsen, who seems to be channeling Peter Scolari from the old Newhart TV show); an apothecary (DeMario McGrew) who takes his work with enemas far too seriously; and most especially that nephew, whose rooster-like mannerisms (emphasized by feathered costume and reddish makeup and hair) are rooted in his being raised in a barn, apparently. Yearta, mouth always agape in an idiotic smile, is a riot in his moments onstage. It’s an evening fun for all, and who doesn’t need that these days?

The Imaginary Invalid continues in rotating rep through March 1; call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Friday, December 12, 2008

Little Women

Revisiting a family classic with Little Women at the Players Theatre.

By Kay Kipling

Whenever you produce a literary classic for the stage, you run the risk of not meeting the expectations of the loyal reader. And with such a beloved piece as Little Women, which so many of us remember from frequent perusals as children, that’s especially true.

So this musical adaptation of Little Women, now onstage at the Players Theatre, may not (and could not) possibly meet all of those expectations, either in the way that we remember the story or how we picture the characters. That said, director Carole Kleinberg is fortunate to have a cast of singers with mostly fine voices, and there is a lot of spirit and energy to this production.

Back, Jennifer K. Baker and Leah Page; front, Lauren Smith, Nancy Apatow and Libby Fleming in the Players’ Little Women.

This version (with book by Allan Knee, music by Jason Howland and lyrics by Mindi Dickstein) tends to focus more initially on the writing efforts of Jo (Jennifer K. Baker), the Louisa May Alcott stand-in from whose point of view we see things. When the show opens, we do not immediately meet the March clan; rather, we have Jo already in New York, living at a boardinghouse where she argues with Professor Bhaer (Richard Russell) and struggles to get her “blood-and-guts” stories published. Accordingly, we also see brief re-enactments of those stories, filled with lots of hokum about heroes, villains and damsels in distress.

But the real heart of Little Women is the story of the March family, and the play is better when it gradually gets us to know them and their circumstances. While Baker may not look like your childhood vision of Jo, she has a strong voice and good delivery and plays her role with passion. She’s joined by sisters Meg (Leah Page, who sings very prettily on her romantic duet with her suitor, the tutor John Brooke), Beth (Libby Fleming, touching in her piano scene with the grumpy Mr. Laurence and again later on when she bids her sister Jo farewell), and Amy (Lauren Smith, who must appear rather bratty in her early scenes and later grows up to become a match for the Marches’ longtime friend, Laurie, endearingly played by Colin Cook). Then of course there’s Marmee (Nancy Apatow), the calm center of the family, who nevertheless reveals her loneliness while her husband is away during the Civil War.

The voices of the leads often soar, but not every song they have to work with here is a gem. And while the action of Jo’s stories is staged in lively fashion by director Kleinberg (who’s aided throughout by the sprightly choreography of Jim Hoskins), they really tend to detract from our emotional involvement with the March women. And the prolonged absence of Mr. March seems rather odd here—shouldn’t he be back from the war sooner than he is?

Act II has, perhaps, more good moments than Act I, including a nicely rendered song by Russell (How I Am) as he ponders his new feelings for Jo, and the closing duet between him and Baker (Small Umbrella in the Rain), one of the few songs that seems it could have a life of its own. Ultimately, the strengths of the cast and the original material make up for the weaknesses in the script and score.

Little Women runs through Dec. 21; call 365-2494 or go to theplayers.org for ticket info.

Opus

Behind the scenes with a string quartet in Florida Studio Theatre's Opus.

By Kay Kipling

It’s not every day that you see a cast onstage where everyone seems ideal for their roles, but such is the happy case with Florida Studio Theatre’s Opus.

This Michael Hollinger play about a well-known string quartet roiled by division actually features five, not four actors. Four of the five have been playing together, if not always in blissful harmony, for some time. But when one of them, the unstable Dorian (Christian Kohn), disappears not long before they’re scheduled to play at a televised White House performance, the others must scramble to find a replacement. That turns out to be a young Asian woman (Susan Hyon), who herself is torn between playing in the intimacy of a quartet or heading to Pittsburgh to for a more secure position with that city’s orchestra.

Luckily, you don’t have to be that knowledgeable about classical music to relate to Opus (although musicians will undoubtedly take particular pleasure at some points). While it’s useful to know a few musical terms, those that are bandied about onstage are clear in their meaning, and the passion these players have for their music translates into the kind of emotion anyone might feel for their life’s work.

In addition, the actors have worked with Sarasota Orchestra concertmaster Dan Jordan to ensure that their bowing looks real. (Their fingers don’t move over the stringed instruments’ frets, but after a while you really don’t notice that anymore.) So as they sit in their chairs getting ready for their big moment, you do often have the feeling you just walked into a real rehearsal—complete with the strife and disagreements you’d expect.

Under Richard Hopkins’ direction, the ensemble works beautifully together. Jeffrey Plunkett as Elliot, the neurotic half of a romantic couple that included the missing Dorian, is completely believable and remains sympathetic throughout even his meanest moments. Kohn is likewise convincing as a musician dealing with a mental illness who nevertheless has a gift the others envy: the ability to instinctively know what works, as if he’s channeling dead composers.

Scott Giguere as Alan and Ron Siebert as Carl, who’s holding a secret, seem the more laidback of the group, but there are surprises in store, including a particularly shocking one that climaxes the play. And Hyon adds just the right blend of hesitation and confidence as a newbie to the quartet’s musical and emotional mix.

There is both wit and perception to Hollinger’s play, which clocks in at a quickly moving 85 minutes or so (no intermission). Opus continues onstage at FST through Jan. 30; call 366-9000 or visit floridastudiotheatre.org for tickets.

Ron Siebert, Jeffrey Plunkett, Susan Hyon, Scott Giguere and Christian Kohn in Florida Studio Theatre’s Opus.

Saturday, December 06, 2008

This Wonderful Life

A beloved film takes to the stage with the Asolo Rep's This Wonderful Life.

By Kay Kipling.

Who, you might wonder, would have the chutzpah to tackle presenting a live, one-man stage show of the holiday classic film It’s A Wonderful Life? Well, it would have to be someone with a lot of stamina, a lot of talent, and a tremendous amount of energy.

James Leaming in the Asolo Rep’s This Wonderful Life. Photo by Frank Atura.

It seems that James Leaming, currently starring in This Wonderful Life at the Historic Asolo Theater in an Asolo Rep production, has all three of the above. Not only does he spring onstage fully prepared to embody all the voices and characters of the original, he also acts as sound and lighting man and stage manager. (Well, he must have some help backstage, but it looks as if he’s doing it all.) He races through the highs and lows of George Bailey’s life in just 90 minutes or so, and he seems to be enjoying himself doing it.

But why, you might also ask. Why even try to breathe new life into a story we’ve been content to watch over and over at home on television? Well, as Leaming (and playwright Steve Murray) tell us at the outset, they just really love this story. And telling it this way allows us look a little differently at the characters and at the town of Bedford Falls as well. For in addition to repeating much of the familiar dialogue from the film, This Wonderful Life occasionally takes the time to comment on some of the things we’ve always accepted about the story.

Like, for example, how Annie the maid and Mr. Martini are such obvious ethnic stereotypes. Or how odd it is that a small town like Bedford Falls has an Olympic-size swimming pool under the high school gym floor. Or how, as George and Mary breathe together into a single telephone mouthpiece, we realize that for a Christmas story, “This is pretty sexy.” (Plus all that stuff about foreclosures and banks failing and an economic depression seems strangely timely just now.)

That’s not to say that Leaming and Murray are poking fun at It’s A Wonderful Life. Or if they are, they’re certainly doing it with their hearts in the right places. With just a few props (including a staircase that does double duty as the famous bridge from which George ponders jumping, some scene-change cards and a chair or two) and the simplest of effects (those stars in the sky representing angels, a downpour of money onto the stage as George’s neighbors come through for him), the actor and the play manage to bring to life everyone from Bert and Ernie to Clarence the angel without wings to the evil Mr. Potter to, of course, George himself (and, yes, Leaming does a pretty creditable Jimmy Stewart impersonation).

It all serves as a reminder of how much we’ve loved the film for years, and how much all of us, like George, have wanted to do something big and important with our lives—only to find that performing the ordinary tasks of work, home, family and friends may just be big and important enough. This Wonderful Life continues through Dec. 28; for tickets call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Friday, December 05, 2008

Willy Wonka

WIlly Wonka is back in time for the holidays, at the Manatee Players.

By Kay Kipling

Everyone likes a little something sweet over the holidays, and Willy Wonka, now onstage at the Manatee Players, is just that—like sampling a bonbon or two after a satisfying meal, especially if you go with a young person.

Most people probably know the Wonka tale from one of the two movie versions (the first with Gene Wilder, the later one with Johnny Depp), although hopefully some have also read the Roald Dahl original. The version here is based on the earlier movie, with music by Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley, but has been newly updated and adapted for the stage with a song or two reflecting some changes over the last decade or so—like for example in the bad habits of one of the children in the story, Mike Teavee, who not only spends too much time in front of the television but is also way too attached to his cell phone and violent video games.

Of course Mike is only one of the “bad” children whose goose is going to get cooked by Mr. Wonka on that tour of his celebrated chocolate factory. Other winners of the “Golden Ticket” that gets them inside that magical place include Veruca Salt, the spoiled daughter of a money-waving father; Violet Beauregarde, an annoying gum-chewer; and Augustus Gloop, a glutton. The fifth child, as all Wonka-ites know, is sweet, lovable Charlie Bucket (Brandon Reid), whose family is poor but whose spirit is rich in positivity.

So, this Wonka telling replays some of the hit songs you might recall (Pure Imagination, The Candy Man) while adding a few others. And it moves along quite swiftly in its story (the whole show is over in less than two hours), with an ingratiating performance by Reid and a nicely balanced one by Heath Jorgenson in the dual role of the kindly Candy Man and the eccentric Willy Wonka. The other child actors are pretty strong, too, and I especially like the Oompa-Loompa numbers, which these curious characters perform as a warning after each child is dispatched the Wonka way.

On the less successful side, the special effects are somewhat underwhelming for those used to the movie versions (although they may still please the kids), and there are a few awkward moments and line stumbles. One annoying aspect to the production: the TV monitors, which show us the winning kids being interviewed by a reporter, but also flicker frequently when nothing is on them, distracting from the “real” action.

Still, the enduring Dahl story and overall message make Willy Wonka a nice holiday treat for those with grandchildren in town. It continues onstage through Dec. 21; call 748-5875 or go to manateeplayers.com.

Monday, December 01, 2008

La Cage aux Folles

Mixing dress-up and domesticity in the Golden Apple's La Cage aux Folles.

By Kay Kipling

Auntie Mame, Dolly Levi and Zaza/Albin—composer Jerry Herman is nothing if not consistent in his devotion to women who know how to make an entrance. And once the tapping transvestites who open up La Cage aux Folles with the number We Are What We Are exit, the stage is clear for the “female” half of that great homosexual team, Georges and Albin, to deliver what her audience expects.

Fortunately, Christopher Swan, in a role that’s quite a departure from what we’ve seen him do at the Golden Apple Dinner Theatre before, is up to the challenge. He conveys the comedic gold of his character, a nightclub entertainer loaded with sequins, wigs and overdone affectations who frequently approaches hysteria, but also the dignity and warmth that lie beneath that baggage, particularly in his relationships with “husband” Georges (Brian Minyard, also doing fine, confident work here) and Georges’ biological son, Jean-Michel (Craig Weiskerger), whom Albin has helped to raise.

Brian Minyard, Roy Johns and Christopher Swan in the Golden Apple’s La Cage aux Folles.

The catalyst for the play, of course, is Jean-Michel’s impending engagement to Anne (Kathryn Ohrenstein), who has the misfortune of being the daughter of an arch-conservative politician (Roy Johns) bound to find Georges and Albin’s lifestyle too outré even for St. Tropez. Jean-Michel, blinded by love, wants Albin to simply disappear when the time comes to invite Anne’s family for a visit, but Albin isn’t going quietly—especially when Jean-Michel’s biological (and long absent) mother finks out on him once again. Before you can say “mon cher Maman,” Albin is putting a little more mascara on to play the maternal role.

It’s all entertaining enough, and director-choreographer Dewayne Barrett, who also plays one of Les Cagelles, gets maximum mileage out of his showgirls/boys on the big splashy numbers, aided by suitably excessive costumes designed by Dee Richards. Keone Dent also scores as the butler/maid Jacob, even more over-the-top and outrageous in behavior than Albin on his worst day.

But the best moments of this production of La Cage come when Swan and Minyard are together alone onstage, totally believable as a longtime couple having some issues but still in love. Take that, Proposition 8.

La Cage aux Folles continues through Jan. 18 at the Golden Apple; call 366-5454 or visit thegoldenapple.com

Monday, November 17, 2008

Barnum and The Producers

Of shows and showmanship with the Asolo Rep’s Barnum and Venice Theatre’s The Producers.

By Kay Kipling

Everybody loves a big, splashy, fast-paced Broadway show, right? One with lots of showgirls, easy humor, colorful costumes and clever choreography? What more could one want?

Well, that’s the question with two current local productions. One is Venice Theatre’s The Producers, a big show for the community theater and a first for a Florida company. The other is the Asolo Rep’s kickoff to its 50th season, Barnum, starring Brad Oscar (who, interestingly enough, was in the Broadway cast of The Producers.)

First, the positives. The Producers remains a great deal of fun in its story of mad Max and nebbishy Leo (Daniel Greene and Charles McKenzie), who team up to deliberately produce the worst play ever in order to reap a windfall in a tax loss. Considering the size of the cast, the physical demands on the performers and the need for swift scene changes and a ton of often ornate costumes, Venice Theatre manages quite a feat of staging.

Charles McKenzie and Heather Kopp in Venice Theatre’s The Producers.

The big production numbers, especially the Act I finale involving all the little old ladies with their walkers and Act II’s famous Springtime for Hitler sequence, are impressively handled (by choreographer Brad Wages). Heather Kopp, who’s grown a lot over the past few years in her confidence and abilities, is a fine Ulla, and McKenzie a likable Leo. One might wish for more flamboyance and looseness from Greene as Max, but basically he gets the job done. And costume designer Nicholas Hartman as campily gay director Roger DeBris and Scott Vitale as his assistant, Carmen Ghia, are right on the money, especially in the number Keep It Gay.

So what’s to criticize? Not much, really. It’s just that all the required attention to the myriad of production details means something at the heart of the show—the crucial relationship between Max and Leo—gets overlooked. We never really feel these two opposites bonding, so we’re missing that emotional connection, especially in the courtroom scene near the end. The fun is there, but not the feeling.

There’s something of the same story with the Asolo’s Barnum, a big, bright, relentlessly enthusiastic show with a hard-working cast and strong production values. Everything is there: the grand opening number (There’s a Sucker Born Every Minute) that sets up the premise of the show with P.T. Barnum’s brand of “humbug”; the stilt-walking, plate-spinning, juggling, tightrope walking and more from a skilled, well-drilled cadre of performers; the sheer spectacle of nearly 50 years of American history compressed into two hours. Once again, the choreographer (Joshua Rhodes) and the director (Gordon Greenberg) have done an amazing job of staging the show’s numbers, especially in Act II’s Come Follow the Band drum tag and the irresistible Join the Circus sequence that sums up the play’s spirit.

Brad Oscar and cast members in the Asolo Rep’s Barnum.

Plus, Barnum benefits from the endearing appeal of Nathaniel Braga as Tom Thumb and the fine voice and pretty looks of Renee Brna as Swedish nightingale Jenny Lind. Brad Oscar certainly presents the outer brio and bluster of Barnum, with Misty Cotton as his more practical wife, Charity, providing the necessary foil.

But—and this is a big but—behind all the hoopla, there’s no heart to the show. The characters are uniformly one-dimensional, the supposedly lifelong devotion between the Barnums unconvincingly rendered. This seems to be inherent in the show itself, and it’s not certain what a director might try to do to overcome that flaw. Granted, the man Barnum was probably not one given to introspection or reflection; perhaps in reality, what you saw was what you got. But in the end, while dazzled by all the circus splendor, you walk away from Barnum feeling rather empty—dare we say, humbugged?

The Producers continues at Venice Theatre through Dec. 7; call 488-1115 or go to venicestage.com for tickets. Barnum runs at the Asolo Rep through Dec. 20; call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Friday, November 07, 2008

Nickel and Dimed

Just getting by in Venice Theatre’s Stage II production of Nickel and Dimed.

By Kay Kipling

Now’s probably a pretty good time to see a show like Nickel and Dimed (currently onstage at Venice Theatre’s Stage II), an adaptation by Joan Holden of Barbara Ehrenreich’s book of the same name about what it’s really like to try to get by on minimum wage in America. With the economy in the shape it is, more and more of us may end up in the trap that Ehrenreich intentionally entered to write a magazine article—which bloomed into a touching, thoughtful book.

In her quest to discover what the challenges are of finding housing, food and transportation on $7 or less an hour, Ehrenreich took on jobs ranging from waitress in a country-themed chain restaurant to hotel housekeeper to maid service to dietary technician at a nursing home to working in what’s carefully called “Mall Mart” (doesn’t take much to figure that one out). Along the way she met up with people living out of their vans and in tawdry motel rooms because they could never scrape together enough money for a rental deposit, mothers afraid they’d lose their children if they ended up jobless, and store and restaurant managers who abuse their own staff as they themselves are abused by upper management, on a journey leading from Florida to Maine to Minnesota.

In the end, Ehrenreich became convinced that those in the middle class and above are, in effect, benefited and made possible by the sweat and sacrifice of those in the working class—who themselves get virtually no benefits whatsoever.

It’s a moving premise for a play, and at times the message comes through loud and clear in the Stage II production. The flexible setup of the space allows the audience great vantage points to see the restaurant station, the cheap bedrooms and bathrooms where Ehrenreich sometimes finds shelter, and the depressingly over-bright discount store floor layout. Sometimes, though, the length of time it takes to make scene changes causes one’s interest to wander.

The cast is hard-working and plainly committed to their characters, most of them playing a variety of roles. As Barbara, Becky Holahan is among the most energetic and committed, and she does deliver some significant lines for maximum impact. On opening night, she struggled with her dialogue (of which she has a lot) frequently, and that was as frustrating for the audience as it must have been for her.

Becky Holahan in Venice Theatre’s Stage II production of Nickel and Dimed.

Bottom line: If Nickel and Dimed can move along faster, and if Holahan can get more of a grip on her lines, this play could be one that both touches and amuses. It’s onstage through Nov. 23; call 488-1115 or go to venicestage.com.

Thursday, November 06, 2008

Wilder! Wilder! Wilder!

It’s a very theatrical evening with the FSU/Asolo Conservatory's Wilder! Wilder! Wilder!.

By Kay Kipling

Thornton Wilder may be best known to many for Our Town and The Matchmaker (along with his Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, The Bridge of San Luis Rey), but it’s clear from Wilder! Wilder! Wilder!, now showing in an FSU/Asolo Conservatory production, that this quintessential man of the theater wrote steadily and affectionately for the stage over a period of decades.

Bethany Weise, Alexandra Guyker and Hannah Rose Goalstone in Wilder! Wilder! Wilder!

The evening consists of five short one-act plays, ranging in time period from the 1920s to the 1960s, and there’s a range in tone, too, from fairly light-hearted comedy to more sober reflection. Apparent in this production, as directed by Matthew Arbour, is the same emphasis on theatricality that was so memorable in Our Town. The play begins with a stage manager turning off a theater’s ghost light, and then the cast members move onstage, themselves seeming to be summoned ghosts, before the first play begins. Throughout, with the presence of the cast onstage as an “audience,” with the tracing and removal of lines on the floor to delineate a room set, with the background of stacked props, we’re both drawn into imaginary worlds and very conscious that what we’re seeing is a play.

The five short pieces all revolve around families and especially the relationships between children and their parents. The first, Infancy, is set in Central Park, and involves a Keystone Kop lookalike interacting with a nursemaid, a mother and their respective charges—babies in big carriages who occasionally rise up and speak in ways both amusing and sinister. The second, Childhood, depicts three children whose favorite game to play involves imagining their parents “away”—and themselves orphans. The third, The Wreck on the 5:25, shows us a mother and daughter anxiously awaiting the arrival home of the husband/father—who’s undergoing a sort of psychological crisis that feels more modern-day in its alienation.

Play No. 4, perhaps the best known and most successful of the lot, is The Happy Journey to Trenton and Camden, which depicts a family foursome on the road to visit a married daughter who’s had a recent crisis of her own. It’s a nostalgic but not necessarily sentimental piece that delicately balances its humor and its pathos. The evening’s closer, The Rivers Under the Earth, is perhaps the most difficult for the Conservatory cast to convey; here, a more realistic, contemporary approach makes it harder to appreciate the differences in age and maturity between parents and children.

But it’s an interesting collage of plays, and, beyond that, provides our first look at the “new” second-year Conservatory students, all 10 of them. Judging from the first outing, we’re in for some strong performances this Conservatory season; there’s an impressive range of talent and type here.

Wilder! Wilder! Wilder! continues through Nov. 23 at the Cook Theatre; for ticket info call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Friday, October 31, 2008

Hank Williams: Lost Highway

Drifting along with the Manatee Players' Hank Williams: Lost Highway.

By Kay Kipling

The life and career of country music legend Hank Williams should make for a great story. Hardscrabble beginnings, stardom at the Grand Ole Opry, health and addiction issues, turbulent marriage and early death—that’s more than enough material for a show. Hank Williams: Lost Highway, now running at the Manatee Players, just scratches the surface of his ultimately tragic existence, focusing more on the music than a compelling storyline. But at its best it’s appealing enough for longtime Williams fans and may entice newcomers to his music to give it more of a listen after the show ends.

Lost Highway, conceived by Randal Myler and Mark Harelik, isn’t meant to be a conventional retelling of Williams’ short life. It consists more of vignettes: of a boyish Hank (Steve McAllister, Hank at every age, also playing the guitar) with his hard-working, loving mother (Laurie Zimmerman); Hank with an African-American waitress (Jaszy McAllister), who gives him his background in the blues; Hank on the road with his friends and fellow musicians, The Drifting Cowboys; and Hank torn between his mother and his chosen partner in life, Miss Audrey (Karen Blankenship), with whom he had an extremely tempestuous relationship.

Many of Williams’ songs are shown to relate pretty directly to his own life, including Honky Tonk Blues, I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry, Mind Your Own Business and Lovesick Blues. And over the course of the evening, McAllister’s vocals come to sound more and more like Williams’ familiar nasal twang, with a yodel and a tinge of heartbreak thrown in. When he and his bandmates, who do all their own playing and singing as well as portraying their characters, perform one number after another before the Act I curtain, it puts you in a pleasantly country frame of mind.

But that curtain comes down abruptly, with no real sense of drama. Overall, the production just sort of ambles along without the strongly emotional moments you’d expect. And the character of Audrey, at least as played here, is used chiefly for comic relief (she’s determined to sing along with Hank, but can’t carry a tune), which lessens the effect on us of Hank’s apparently undying love for her.

So we’re left with all those great Williams tunes, a nice set by Donna Buckalter (consisting of a diner, an old gas station and a front porch) that’s simple but evocative, and some spirited singing by Jaszy McAllister, who may overdo some repetitive gestures in her delivery but does have a nice bluesy voice. One longs for more from the show, which makes its Florida debut here. But Hank understood well that you don’t always get what you want from life.

Hank Williams: Lost Highway continues through Nov. 16; for ticket info call 748-5875 or go to manateeplayers.com.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Obama On Tour

Sometimes politics is the most intriguing theater.

By Kay Kipling; photographs by Ian Dean

Ordinarily, of course, I write about theater in this spot. But, given the chance to attend the Barack Obama rally at Ed Smith Stadium on Thursday, Oct. 30, I immediately saw it as a chance to write about another kind of performance. After all, what is a political campaign but theater, complete with moments of high drama and low comedy? A nearly two-year-long presidential campaign is one of the longest-running shows there is, and when it comes to town, you want to be in the audience.

The crowd at Ed Smith Stadium.

The stage was certainly perfectly set Thursday morning, a cool, crisp, sunny beginning to the day. Lines of cars and lines of people converged at the stadium, and anticipation seemed high among the theatergoers thronging in past those hawking merchandise and passing out campaign literature.

Obama was to speak from a stage set up on the baseball field, and my photographer and I ended up pretty close to that stage. This meant a long time spent standing up, rather than sitting down in the stands, but it also provided front-row seats, and what theater lover wouldn’t love that?

When music started blasting from speakers near us, it felt as if we were at a rock concert, rather than a political performance. As we saw the plane carrying Obama approaching, about 10:30 a.m., cheers went up from the crowd, anxious to greet the star of the show.

The plane carrying Obama approaches.

But first there were the opening acts. The Rev. Henry Porter led a group of vocalists in singing the national anthem. The Pledge of Allegiance followed, and then came the parade of candidates paying tribute to Obama, each getting their moment in the spotlight: Congressional candidate Christine Jennings, dressed in a power-red suit; State Rep. Keith Fitzgerald, who said, apropos of the stadium venue, that in this election, hope must win when “Fear strikes out”; and finally, Florida Sen. Bill Nelson. A small ripple of disappointment rippled through the crowd near me when Nelson strode up; they were expecting Obama to be next, not another supporting actor.

But Nelson delivered his lines swiftly, and then, as Obama approached, a quick hug was exchanged before the Democratic candidate for President began his speech.

The candidate speaks.

“Five days,” he reminded the crowd. “We’re five days away from changing America. In five days you can turn that page”—a page, he went on to add, where greed and irresponsibility on Wall Street had caused the hard-working Americans of Main Street to suffer.

As was natural, Obama’s speech, well-rehearsed and delivered, leaned heavily on the economy, and on promises that the financial rescue plan approved by Congress must aid the average citizen, including Floridians whose homes have gone into foreclosure. “What are you gonna do?” shouted one man near us. “I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do,” Obama responded with the aplomb of an actor used to the demands of live theater. He then presented the analogy of the Bush administration’s policies having driven the economy into a ditch, with Republican rival John McCain in the passenger seat. At the mention of McCain, boos were heard, and Obama again responded with an ad-lib of sorts: “You don’t need to boo, you just need to vote,” adding, “It’s time to change drivers.”

Sure applause lines like that one worked with the audience, as did comparisons to the more prosperous economic times during the Clinton administration and a promise to return to those days. Obama proved once again he knows when to pause for dramatic effect; when to get a laugh (referring to tax hikes for rich people, he said, “Don’t get me wrong, I love rich people”); repeating a popular line about the McCain camp calling him a socialist (“Next they’ll say I’m a Communist because I shared my toys in kindergarten or my peanut butter and jelly sandwich in sixth grade”). But perhaps the biggest cheer of the morning went up when he said simply, “I will end this war in Iraq.” A few lines and much applause later, he was on his way to his next appearance—to the exit tune of Stevie Wonder’s Signed, Sealed, Delivered I’m Yours. A little Motown never hurts a show.

P.S. Lunch followed at the Hob Nob on U.S. 301, where a number of Obama supporters had gathered—and where CNN quickly showed the scene we had just witnessed. And Obama? He went on, according to reliable reports, to buy a pumpkin downtown near Five Points.

Monday, October 27, 2008

The Giver

There are lessons for those of every age in the Asolo Rep's The Giver.

By Kay Kipling

The Giver, adapted from the Newbery Award-winning book by Lois Lowry, is an Asolo Rep production that’s part of its “New Stages” initiative, bringing fully staged theatrical productions to area students, especially those of upper elementary and middle school age. But you don’t have to be a student, a teacher, or even a parent to see and appreciate the production, now onstage at the Historic Asolo Theater.

You don’t have to have read the book, either, but those who have will feel a special interest in entering the world of young Jonas (Kevin O’Callaghan, like other cast members an FSU/Asolo Conservatory student) and his family and friends. In Jonas’ world, the color palette is white, gray, neutral; no bright colors enrich the soul. Nor are there any unpleasant experiences; his society has eliminated them through a careful regimen of schooling, medication and lifelong conformity.

Here, at the age of 12, children enter the adult world and begin the jobs they have been selected to perform. In Jonas’ case, that’s a rare opportunity, for he is picked to train with—and eventually replace—The Giver (Brent Bateman), who has been responsible for keeping in his mind all the memories of the past the other community members no longer have. In his transplanting those memories to Jonas, we see how wonderful it is for Jonas to experience for the first time the thrill of snow, the excitement of color. But there are hard, painful memories, too—memories of war, poverty and starvation—plus an especially harsh reality to face about how his society deals with its misfits and no longer productive members.

Brent Bateman and Kevin O’Callaghan in the Asolo Rep’s The Giver.

At 70 minutes with no intermission, The Giver wraps all this into one compelling package, complete with some lighting and stage effects that help successfully transport us on Jonas’ journey. The cast, under the capable direction of KJ Sanchez, is energetic and believable, whether playing adults or children, throughout the show. But the best moments, come, as they should, when Jonas and the Giver are alone together, confronting the lessons to be learned. “It’s the choosing that’s important,” the Giver says at one point to his student, underscoring the piece’s message with that simple, always timely truth. And The Giver is a good choice for this new educational/theatrical program.

Public performances continue through Nov. 8; call 351-8000 or go to asolo.org.

Friday, October 24, 2008

Bye Bye Birdie

It’s not perfect, but the Players’ Bye Bye Birdie provides some welcome fun.

By Kay Kipling

No matter how expert you are, you never really know what musicals are going to hold up 40 or 50 years after their debuts. Who would have thought that Bye Bye Birdie, which seemed so firmly rooted in a specific time and place in history—that early 1960s America of youthful hope and optimism—would still be spreading a little cheer our way in today’s more dour universe?

Well, maybe some savants knew it. After all, Birdie does boast some eternally recognizable characters: the squealing teen fans of a posturing rock idol, the concerned, overprotective parents, the mother-dominated nice guy with a long-suffering girlfriend. It also offers a score with some surefire hits, like the enduring Kids, Put On A Happy Face and A Lot of Livin’ To Do, that remain instantly engaging.

For the most part, the Players’ production of Bye Bird Birdie is engaging, too. Director Catherine Randazzo keeps things snappy and mines little bits of humor whenever she can; scenic designer Michael A. Gray and his counterpart, costume designer Paul Lopez, have fun interpreting the upbeat colors and styles of the period; and there are some strong performances on stage along with some kind of so-so ones.

Among the strongest: Trina Rizzo as Kim, the young girl from Sweet Apple, Ohio, upon whom rock star-draftee Conrad Birdie (Matthew Russell, not perfect but surprisingly effective for a first-time performer) will bestow his final kiss before leaving for the Army. That idea is the brainchild of Rosie (Kaylene McCaw, who’s also potent), the aforementioned long-suffering girlfriend, who’s determined to move Birdie along so her boyfriend Albert (Jim Taylor), his manager, can get back to teaching and marry her.

Taylor’s more comfortable singing and dancing than delivering his dialogue, which he tends to do with unnecessary arm gestures. But he’s likable, and his scenes with his guilt-manufacturing mother (Bobbie Burrell) are audience favorites. Other bites to savor: the right-on body language and timing of Chris Keller as Kim’s dweebish boyfriend, Hugo; a comic turn by Shelley Whiteside as Rosie’s would-be replacement, the very outgoing (not to say trampy) Gloria; and the scene where Conrad’s version of Honestly Sincere repeatedly knocks out every female in the vicinity, especially the wife of Sweet Apple’s mayor.

The ensemble of the show has mixed talent and experience, as might be expected, and some are pretty stiff, while others (like Kathleen Abney and Bill Sarazen, as Kim’s parents) seem forced to overreact to everything. But these drawbacks don’t trample too much upon the bright liveliness of Bye Bye Birdie—a welcome piece of nostalgic funsense in a gloomy period of time.

Bye Bye Birdie continues through Nov. 2; call 365-2494 or go to theplayers.org for ticket info.

Monday, October 06, 2008

A Murder, A Mystery & A Marriage

It’s time for a touch of Twain with Florida Studio Theatre’s A Murder, A Mystery & A Marriage.

By Kay Kipling

Lively and fun, Florida Studio Theatre’s current production of A Murder, A Mystery & A Marriage may not leave an indelible memory—in fact, chances are you’ll forget it pretty soon after leaving the theater. But it is nevertheless very enjoyable while you’re watching it.

Based on a long-unpublished short story by Mark Twain, this musical adaptation by Aaron Posner and James Sugg tells a tale set in 1876 in the small town of Deer Lick, Missouri, where our young heroine, Mary Gray (Jillian Louis) loves and is loved by our hero, Hugh Gregory (played by Aaron Young, and the show mines a lot of laughs in the misuse of his first name because it sounds like “you”). Mary’s father, John (Trip Plymale) is a dour, hardscrabble farmer who’d prefer a rich man for his daughter, but he’s grudgingly willing for the pair to wed—until he discovers that his brother, David, will leave everything to Mary in his will, provided she does not marry Hugh. Enter a mysterious stranger (Nick Santa Maria), complete with black cape, hat, and a plethora of odd foreign accents, who announces that he’s royalty and wants to marry Mary himself, and you’ve got the picture.

Nick Santa Maria, Jillian Louis and Aaron Young in Florida Studio Theatre’s A Murder, A Mystery & A Marriage.

Santa Maria gets many of the show’s plum bits as the flamboyant stranger, and he carries them off with élan. But Louis and Young are also strong as the young lovers, in both the lighter and more somber moments of the piece. And Plymale is very believable as farmer John, especially when kvetching in his long underwear.

Andy Paterson serves as both the narrator when required and as the Rev. Hurley; Joyce Nolen is amusing as the fretful but well-intentioned mother of Mary; and Billy Vitelli rounds out the cast as both the town sheriff and the unfortunate David. An onstage band capably renders the songs, a mix of bluegrass, ballads and a little Latin juice, and choreographer Stephen Hope and director Pamela Hunt keep things moving along at a brisk, bright pace.

A Murder, A Mystery & A Marriage may not be on the list of Twain’s masterpieces, but it does entertain with its folksy flavor. It continues at FST through Nov. 28; call 366-9000 or go to floridastudiotheatre.org.

Friday, October 03, 2008

Golddiggers of 1633

A Golden Apple cast romps through the Moliere-inspired Golddiggers of 1633.

By Kay Kipling

Most of the time, the Golden Apple Dinner Theatre’s Robert Ennis Turoff sticks to producing or directing the shows, but every once in a while he steps on stage to perform; and when he does, it’s frequently a treat.

Such is the case with Turoff’s role as Arnolphe in Golddiggers of 1633, a musical adaptation of Moliere’s School for Wives that has been seen at the Golden Apple several times before. Arnolphe is an elderly bachelor who finally believes it’s time for him to marry, and his virginal ward is the lucky girl he has in mind. Since she’s been raised in a convent and taught virtually nothing but obedience, he’s sure that Agnes (Sarah Farnam) will never betray him or give him trouble in any way.

His friend Chrysalde (Ben Turoff) tries to warn him; his money-hungry servants (Samantha Barrett and Dewayne Barrett) try to take advantage of him; and then along comes Horace (Michael Swickard), a young friend of Arnolphe’s, who catches one glimpse of Agnes over her garden gate and immediately falls in love. She’s in love with him, too, naturally, and Arnolphe’s comic frustration at the situation escalates to the point where he plans to drag his ward off to the church the very next day.

Ben Turoff and Robert Ennis Turoff in the Golden Apple’s Golddiggers of 1633.

Of course young love will not be thwarted, but it’s entertaining to watch as Arnolphe is alternately lecherous, interrogative and very near murderous. Turoff’s facial expressions for each stage of the game are often priceless, and he’s well matched with the ensemble cast members, who sing, dance, caper and cavort with energy.

The don’t-blink-or-you’ll-miss-it denouement may puzzle some, but that’s a function of Lee Goldsmith’s book, which also employs the device of using the show’s “authors” as puppeteers maneuvering the characters through the various shenanigans of the piece. The musical numbers by Goldsmith and composer Lawrence Hurwit, guided by Dewayne Barrett’s often 1920s-ish choreography, are clever and fun to watch, if not terribly memorable after.

Overall, Golddiggers glides along quite pleasantly; you may be surprised at how quickly the evening flies by. For tickets call 366-5454 or go to thegoldenapple.com.

Monday, September 29, 2008

Steel Magnolias

The Manatee Players serve up laughs and tears with Steel Magnolias.

By Kay Kipling

I’ve seen Robert Harling’s Steel Magnolias a number of times now, and while I can sometimes get restless with all the talk, talk, talk in Truvy’s beauty salon, the test of the production always comes for me in Act II: Will I make it through the end without a tear, or will I start blubbering halfway through M’Lynn’s big speech?

Well, you know the answer….I never make it through all the way dry-eyed. And such was the case with the Manatee Players’ current production of this oft-seen comedy-drama about a group of Southern women who meet to have their hair done, gossip and support each other through the changes in their lives. Although the acting in this staging is sometimes stilted, there are still enough laugh lines, enough genuine emotion and enough of a feeling of sisterhood to carry it through.

Working with a cast mostly composed of Manatee Players’ newcomers, director Kelly Wynn Woodland does a nice job of balancing the humor and the sadness. Mary Jo Johnson is a lively Truvy; Joan O’Dwyer gets off some good lines as town leader Clairee; Julee Breehne makes an appealing Shelby; and Patti O’Berg is a strong presence as the grouchy Ouiser. Heather Gillman’s Annelle is a little too subdued at times, and Hollie Corbitt as M’Lynn at first feels miscast, but ends up delivering in the end as she comes face to face with her loss in that Act II speech.

The set by Suzinn Edelston makes for a believable small-town Southern beauty salon, and the actresses mostly do a convincing job when it comes to the hair styling parts of the show, which must be performed naturally and, of course, while appearing to carry on a normal conversation.

Steel Magnolias continues through Oct. 12; for ticket info call 748-5875 or visit manateeplayers.com.

Friday, September 26, 2008

Company

The Players Theatre opens the door to Company.

By Kay Kipling

Stephen Sondheim fans (of which I am one) often have a special fondness for Company, his 1970 musical about a 35-year-old, commitment-averse bachelor named Bobby with a lot of married friends. It’s not his deepest show, and the book by George Furth has its weaknesses. But Company has some outstanding songs, some strong moments, and a certain theatrical panache as it follows Bobby from couple to couple while he struggles to find what he wants from his life.

In the current Players Theatre production, Company is firmly rooted in the 1970s milieu it was born in; the costumes, set and hairpieces all take those of us who were alive then back to that time, most likely with a little shudder. (It was not our most attractive era.) With its famous nonlinear structure, Company starts out at a birthday party for Bobby attended by all the couples who claim him and then switches back and forth between various scenes where Bobby interacts with them as the perennial third man (a role defined by the Act II song Side by Side by Side), interspersed with brief vignettes of Bobby with three of the young women he’s been dating.

Each couple has their problems, of course. Sarah and Harry (Ellie Pattison and Leslie Dawley) snipe at each other while trying to stop overeating and overdrinking, respectively; Susan and Peter (Cara Herman and David Walker) seem so happy but are actually getting divorced; Joanne (Sandra Musicante) is a hard-drinking broad on her third husband, Larry (David Coyle); and Amy and Paul (Stephanie Costello and David Abolafia) may not even get to the altar due to Amy’s frantic panic on their wedding day. (Costello is very funny on the rapid-fire Getting Married Today.) Jenny and David (Bonnie Schiavone and Richard Russell) may have the best relationship, but is that because they’ve just settled for each other?

As often happens in community theater, not everyone onstage is best suited, age wise or by physical type, to the roles they play. But for the most part they provide a strong enough singing/acting ensemble to get Sondheim’s numbers and message across. As Bobby, the center of all the attention, Jason Kimble has the right bemused air of observation in a role that doesn’t really give him all that much to do until the climax of the show, the still powerful Being Alive, where he finally admits and accepts his need to care for someone.

Director/choreographer Jared Walker moves his cast around well; Act II’s What Would We Do Without You, featuring the ensemble equipped with hats and canes as they salute their Bobby, is fun and lively. Deniz Hakim scores as the energetic Marta on the big song Another Hundred People, and Musicante gives it her all on the famous, bitter Ladies Who Lunch number. For Company lovers, this is certainly not the best cast production they’ll ever see. But it’s what we have for right now, and it still entertains.

Company continues through Oct. 5; call 365-2494 or go to theplayers.org.

Monday, September 08, 2008

Forbidden Broadway

Venice Theatre ventures into spoof territory with Forbidden Broadway.

By Kay Kipling

When it comes to biting the hand that feeds you, Forbidden Broadway does it well. You might almost say that writer Gerard Alessandrini and his minions invented the art.

But it’s been a while since we’ve seen a production of this spoof of top Broadway shows and stars here locally, and it was time for an update. Which we’ve gotten, courtesy Venice Theatre’s Cabaret Series.

This time around we still have the familiar (but always eminently ripe for satire) likes of Liza Minnelli (Liza One-Note), Carol Channing (she’ll do Dolly Levi anywhere, any time) and Mandy Patinkin (Somewhat Overindulgent to the tune of Somewhere Over the Rainbow). But beyond the famous turntable scenes from Les Miserables, which we get to see not once here but twice, we’ve advanced into a more recent era with jabs at Wicked (in a performance that’s Defying Subtlety, not gravity), Hairspray (You Can’t Stop the Camp), Rent and Spamalot (acknowledging that it’s hard to spoof a spoof).

This may sound like you have to be a Broadway insider to enjoy this show, but you don’t. You’re bound to recognize certain targets no matter how long it’s been since you set foot in a Broadway theater.

And the cast—Bobbi Eschenbach, Heather Kopp, Charles McKenzie and Craig Weiskerger, ably abetted by pianist Michael Sebastian and director Michael Newton-Brown—perform with such zing that the humor is delivered whether you’ve missed a show or two or not. Eschenbach has a field day donning various wigs and attitudes to play her divas; she’s particularly on target as Liza. McKenzie scores as one of those ever popular Cats (it’s a steady gig); Kopp as an actress in Les Miz who spends her time backstage On My Phone, texting; and Weiskerger as the souvenir-hawking producer Cameron Mackintosh (hanging on a clothesline a few of his Favorite Things for sale).

But the most fun comes when they’re all onstage together, as in the backhanded salute to Stephen Sondheim’s lyrical complexity, Into the Words; parodying Fiddler on the Roof’s Tradition with Ambition as job-hungry New York actors; and emphasizing the minimal style of Bob Fosse’s vision of Chicago.

Overall, it’s a fast, funny 90 minutes or so in the cozy environs of the Yvonne Pinkerton Theatre, where in true cabaret style you can sip a drink at a tiny table while taking in the show. Forbidden Broadway continues through Sept. 21; call 488-1115 or go to venicestage.com.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Talent Explosion!

Revelations from the judges’ seats at the Players’ Talent Explosion.

By Kay Kipling

When I agreed to be one of several judges for the Players Theatre Talent Explosion 2008, I had no idea what I was getting into.

Well, maybe some idea. I had to figure that at some point in the show (which benefits the Players Performing Arts Studio programs) I was going to be hearing at least one song from Annie; in fact, it turned out to be three. And as the date for the show, emceed by Cliff Roles and staged with a lot of assistance from Players’ artistic director Jeff Kin, approached, I did receive more nuggets of information: There would be tap dancing, hip-hop, a flamenco number, an operatic solo, magic acts and a performance to the theme from the TV show Love Boat by the Sarasota Senior Theatre. In fact there were 30 acts in all, and I admit I started to panic at the thought of sitting through them all and making snap decisions about the contestants’ fates. What if they were all dreadful?

Well, I needn’t have worried about that. Sure, there was some variation in quality from act to act, but to put it in professional theater critic terms, no one sucked. And several of the performances wowed me—although they were not necessarily the same ones that wowed my fellow judges. (Our distinguished panel included community theater artistic directors Rick Kerby and Murray Chase, along with Kin, plus circus aerialist Dolly Jacobs, rock star Twinkle and fellow critic Kim Cool.) Each of us filled out our tally sheets separately, and there was no time or intention for discussion among us. I did not know before the audience did who would be receiving the prizes, given at the elementary, middle and high school levels, along with an adult category and three group prizes with different criteria.

So while I certainly appreciated the work of the winners—Hannah Beatt belting out Tomorrow, Erin Weinberger dancing to Shine on Your Shoes, Samantha Quinn-Grutzner doing a lovely ballet interpretation of Stevie Wonder’s Higher Ground, and Katy Knowles having fun with Last One Picked, plus dance troupe Ramalama and the kids moving to You Can’t Stop the Beat—I’d like to also give some nods to a few other performers. Notably: Savannah Ashford on Somewhere That’s Green, Erica Wilkes on Gimmee, Gimmee, Ashford again, paired with Ashley Kalantzis for Penniless Bums, and Taylor Foerster and Ashleigh Wheeler dueting on Defying Gravity. And most especially, middle schooler Maria Wirries for her rendition of New York, New York. Having seen the American Idol top 10 performers onstage in Tampa just two nights before, I couldn’t help but think that Wirries just could be our next Syesha.

Overall, though, as more than one judge was heard to say during the passing out of the prizes, all those hard-working performers onstage, living out their dreams for one night only, were winners. (Does that cover me?) And I enjoyed being a judge more than I would ever have expected. Sign me up for next year.

The Will Rogers Follies

There’s timely nostalgia in the Manatee Players’ The Will Rogers Follies.

By Kay Kipling

When Manatee Players artistic director Rick Kerby chose The Will Rogers Follies to open his 2008-09 season, he knew the production would coincide with a presidential election year and the August anniversary of humorist Rogers’ death. What he may not have been able to predict is how an Act II radio speech Rogers made during the Depression, about people facing hard times, would also resonate with today’s audience.

That speech only takes a few minutes’ running time, but it’s a nice remembrance of Rogers’ offstage compassion in a show that focuses, naturally, more on his onstage performances in vaudeville and as a star of the Ziegfeld Follies. Rogers has been dead for more than 70 years now, but many of his observations of human foibles, especially political ones, certainly still ring true—and amusing—today.

The Manatee Players’ production, skillfully directed and choreographed by Kerby, has an overall impressive feel and look to it, with a stagewide set of steps lit in changing colors for all those Follies showgirls to descend while wearing appropriately glamorous Ziegfeld-like costumes (congrats to Paul F. Lopez and his team for those). And Kerby is blessed with a better-than-usual female ensemble for those showgirls, both in terms of their physical endowments and their singing and dancing skills. (Let’s mention them here: Mary Burns, Tara Collandra, Victoria Najmy, Jen Marie Pierce and Lauren Richard; throw in the actresses playing Rogers’ sisters—Kristy Pizzo, Gabi Guinta, Libby Fleming, Joy Lakin, Corinne Woodland and Kali Westphalen—and Caitlin Longstreet as Ziegfeld’s Favorite, and you’ve got quite a lineup of female pulchritude.)

But the star of the show is Gregory Wiegers as Will, and although he may be younger than Rogers should be here, Wiegers has a natural, easy style that’s just right for the folksy Oklahoman. He also has good onstage rapport with Karen Lalosh, who plays his wife, Betty Blake. Lalosh demonstrates her vocal chops on songs in a variety of styles, including the torchy No Man Left for Me. And Manatee Players stalwart Denny Miller gets his laughs right on cue as Will’s father, Clem, who initially disapproves of his son’s career choices but turns up later with some good advice.

As a pleasant diversion in the aforementioned tough times, this Follies fits the bill. It continues through Sept. 7; call 748-5875 or visit manateeplayers.com.

Friday, August 08, 2008

The Clean House

The Banyan Theater Company finds the essential role of disorder in The Clean House.

By Kay Kipling

What a treat it is, in the dog days of August, to emerge from a theater feeling, well, sort of clean and perhaps even a little exhilarated. That’s “clean” as in The Clean House, the Banyan Theater Company’s final production of the season, now onstage at the Cook Theatre at the FSU/Asolo Center for the Performing Arts.

Sarah Ruhl’s play, which was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize a few years ago, walks a fine line; it’s quirky and unconventional, but not just for the sake of being so, and its comedy is, as comedy should be, rooted in real and basic human emotions. Not many playwrights could pull this off; Ruhl, whose work is expertly directed here by Douglas Jones, can.

The play first introduces us to Mathilde (Karina Barros), a young Brazilian woman who works as the cleaning lady for a 50-ish doctor, Lane (Seva Anthony). Mathilde, whose parents were the funniest people in Brazil, is much more interested in coming up with the perfect joke than she is in cleaning anyone’s home, and that causes some tension between her and the uptight Lane. Fortunately, Lane’s sister, Virginia (Geraldine Librandi), happens to be a woman for whom cleaning is the essence of life, and she offers to do Mathilde’s dirty work for her. Unfortunately, Lane’s doctor husband, Charles (Robert Herrle), happens to fall in love with a patient (Ann Morrison), who, to add insult to injury, is 67 years old.

Karina Barros, Seva Anthony, Geraldine Librandi, Ann Morrison and Robert Herrle in the Banyan’s The Clean House.

If this sounds like a setup for some easy jokes, well, it is and it isn’t. As with any joke, it’s all in the way you tell it. And Ruhl’s way of telling it is tinged with fantastic, magical elements that raise it out of the ordinary. “This is not a foreign film,” Lane fumes at one point to her husband, distraught at his sudden achingly romantic ways. But The Clean House is like a foreign film at times, and like a South American telenovela, too. And like an opera, especially in the scene where Virginia, to the strains of an aria, breaks out and begins to make dirty and untidy the antiseptic white world of Lane’s house.

That set, by James A. Florek, conveys the right atmosphere for these characters; it includes a balcony from which Ana and Mathilde at one time toss apples that end up in Lane’s living room. Florek’s lighting also works to create a sense of non-reality when called for.

Karina Barros is a find as Mathilde; she’s irresistibly and authentically Brazilian. She works naturally with both Morrison and Librandi, the latter especially effective on both the comic and more dramatic levels. Herrle is appealing as Charles, whose formerly well-ordered world turns blissfully upside down. But Anthony could use more variation in her performance as Lane; she’s too stiff and strident most of the time, making her later scenes not as believable as they should be.

That’s not a fatal problem here by any means. Overall, The Clean House is a welcome and thoughtful piece of theater. It continues through Aug. 24; call 552-1032 or go to banyantheatercompany.com.

Monday, July 28, 2008

Southern Comforts

It’s better late than never for the couple at the heart of Florida Studio Theatre’s Southern Comforts.

By Kay Kipling

Love may be lovelier the second time around, as the old song goes, but that doesn’t mean it comes without challenges. Case in point: the couple in Kathleen Clark’s play Southern Comforts, now onstage at Florida Studio Theatre.

They meet cute, as seems essential to any love story. She (Amanda Cross, played by Susan Greenhill), is a native Southerner and a widow visiting her grown daughter in New Jersey, who drops by the home of Gus Klingman (Richard Bourg) on an errand. Gus is a seemingly grumpy widower who’s at first flummoxed by Amanda’s flirtatious ways. But when a rainstorm prevents her from leaving right away, and they discover a mutual interest in baseball….well, soon enough the conversation turns more promising.

The first act, as the two gradually get to know each other and the hurts they’ve each experienced (he, an unhappy marriage of more than 40 years, she, the loss of a husband who came back from war changed forever) is nicely paced by Clark, director Robert J. Farley and the cast. It may seem at first that Amanda is simply charming Gus out of his shell, but we eventually see that Amanda is likewise drawing the “comforts” of the title from his appreciation of her nature, so different from his, and from Gus’ deep-down loving heart. Their negotiations, as they come to terms about possibly marrying, are funny/sad and thoroughly believable, as these are people who’ve already lived long lives without each other.

In Act II, things change—from the set, which undergoes a transformation as Amanda’s furniture arrives—to the relationship, which hits a few bumps. It may be comic, as a drawn-out scene involving putting up storm windows is, or more poignant, as the big question for Amanda becomes: Are she and Gus going to be buried together, or with their first spouses?

Greenhill and Bourg are both engaging in their roles, and it’s easy to get caught up emotionally in their characters’ struggle to move forward with their lives together. No doubt there are a lot of nods of recognition in the Sarasota audience—along with a dose of comfort for us that it is possible for folks like these to find happiness.

Southern Comforts continues through Aug. 17 at FST; call 366-9000 or go to floridastudiotheatre.org.

Susan Greenhill and Richard Bourg in FST’s Southern Comforts.

Friday, July 18, 2008

True West

It’s time for a no-holds-barred showdown with the Banyan’s True West.

By Kay Kipling

There’s certainly something cathartic as well as comedic about watching Sam Shepard’s True West, now onstage at the Cook Theatre in a Banyan Theater Company production. As we watch the tension between two brothers build until they eventually slug it out, pretty much destroying their mother’s kitchen in the process, there’s a sense of relief in knowing that they’re tearing apart their lives so we don’t have to do the same with ours.

Twenty-some years after this play debuted, it’s still contemporary in tone, despite the dial telephone and typewriter props. Austin (Eric Hissom) is, at first glance, a nerdy hopeful screenwriter, working away at a script he’s been pitching for months to a Hollywood producer (J Bloomrosen). He’s staying at his mother’s home east of Los Angeles while she’s on a trip to Alaska, diligently watering her plants and cleaning the kitchen counters. But from the outset there’s a definite sense of foreboding as Austin’s brother, Lee (R. Ward Duffy), a rough guy just blown in from the Mojave Desert like a manic tumbleweed, shows up and inserts his baleful presence into Austin’s carefully ordered world. Soon Lee has gambled his way into getting his own script made, by Austin’s producer, and these Cain/Abel brothers are locked in a battle that ultimately leads to a High Noon confrontation, playing all along to our ties to our Western roots and/or lack of a “real” West today.

Directed by Chris Dolman, this True West is well cast in the leads, especially as the tables turn and Lee attempts to change his life for the better (no more boosting other people’s television sets) while Austin begins to swig liquor and, in one of the play’s best scenes, lines up a set of toasters he’s stolen just to prove he can do it and starts buttering away. Their climactic fight scene is certainly believable, as is Lee’s animal frustration when a telephone call doesn’t go his way and he explodes into physical fury.

Bloomrosen is rather low-key for a producer type; one might expect more slick energy. In a brief appearance toward the end of the play, Nina Hughes wears the right look of befuddlement as Austin and Lee’s mother, too dazed by the direction her life has taken to fully comprehend what she sees.

But the show belongs, properly, of course, to Hissom, Duffy and Shepard, whose spare dialogue and precise timing still crackle after all these years. True West continues through Aug, 3; for tickets call 552-1032 or go to banyantheatercompany.com.

Friday, July 11, 2008

The Musical of Musicals: The Musical

In the mood for a musical? How about five, with The Musical of Musicals: The Musical.

By Kay Kipling

The more American theater musicals you know, the more you’ll probably enjoy the Golden Apple Dinner Theatre’s current production, The Musical of Musicals: The Musical. But anyone even remotely familiar with the works of some of the stage’s most acclaimed composers should find entertainment aplenty here.

As the title suggests, this show, written by Eric Rockwell and Joanne Bogart and a long-running hit both at the York Theatre Company and off-Broadway, pokes clever fun at many of the genre’s staples, from overused plotlines to bombastic production numbers to star turns that literally stop the show. Using the old melodrama setup of a young woman who “can’t pay the rent” to a villainous landlord but finds help from a stalwart hero, The Musical presents five little mini-musicals on the theme, ranging from the old-fashioned Americana of Rodgers and Hammerstein to the often dark style of Stephen Sondheim, the rock musicals of Andrew Lloyd Webber, the splashy kitsch of Jerry Herman and the slick noirish qualities of Kander and Ebb.

It’s all very funny, and you’ll find yourself, certainly at the outset anyway, trying to keep track of just how many song/musical references there are to original pieces by the composers being parodied, from slices of The King and I and Carousel to Starlight Express to Cabaret and Chicago. But after a while, just let yourself go and enjoy the way a talented cast swiftly switches gears from one version to the next.

Kip Taisey, Cara Herman, Jessica Hanson, William Garon and musical director John Visser in the Golden Apple’s The Musical of Musicals: The Musical.

Among some favorite moments: Kip Taisey doing a roundup of R&H soliloquies; William Garon, a la Sweeney Todd, wielding both a palette and a sharp weapon as an artist/landlord who likes to cover his victims in papier mache; Jessica Hanson spoofing Evita’s thrusting arm movements in Aspects of Junita; and Cara Herman as a Mame/Dolly combo dubbed Auntie Abby, who belts, “I can’t sing or dance, but I’m the star of the show,” as she gives this treasured advice to those around her: “Live.” She’s also a hoot dressed up and growling out lyrics like Marlene Dietrich in the Kander/Ebb segment, but I won’t give away her best lines here.

The show is excellently directed and designed by Michael Newton-Brown, with sterling support from musical director John Visser and choreography by Dewayne Barrett that successfully encompasses the different styles so important to each type of musical, from a dream ballet sequence out of Oklahoma to those Bob Fosse moves complete with black hats and canes.

All in all, The Musical of Musicals: The Musical is just the right-sized package of summer entertainment. It continues at the Golden Apple through Aug. 13; call 366-5454 or go to thegoldenapple.com.

Monday, June 30, 2008

The Mystery of Irma Vep

Summer fun with Florida Studio Theatre’s vampy, campy The Mystery of Irma Vep.

By Kay Kipling

If the price of gas is keeping you closer to home this summer, you can always buy a ticket to Florida Studio Theatre’s The Mystery of Irma Vep—you’ll be taking a trip to England, Egypt and some undefined land of crazy, ridiculous humor that defies logic. Oh, and did I mention the men dressed in skirts?

Irma Vep, probably the best known of Ridiculous Theatre Company founder Charles Ludlam’s drag plays, is a two-actor romp that makes you feel the stage is inhabited by a much bigger cast. A campy, affectionate parody of, among other things, such old movies as Rebecca, Wuthering Heights and The Mummy’s Curse, Irma Vep is set primarily at spooky Mandacrest Manor, where Lord Edgar’s new bride, Lady Enid, is having trouble settling in due to the howling wolves, unfriendly housekeeper and the huge portrait of Lord Edgar’s first, late wife that hangs over the fireplace. Throw in some werewolves, vampires and other supernatural creatures, along with a brief side trip to an ancient Egyptian tomb, and you’ve got a mostly amusing melange of tribute and send-up.

The two actors (assisted by some offstage crew members in order to make the impossibly quick costume changes needed) successfully carry it all off with the right mix of heated overacting and the occasional symbolic wink to the audience that says we’re all in it for the fun of it. Patrick Noonan, who plays Lord Edgar and the housekeeper, is frequently hilarious, especially in the latter role; and Brad DePlanche does yeoman duty as Lady Enid (he’s sort of disturbingly fetching here, actually), the wooden-legged swineherd Nicodemus Underwood, and two Egyptians including a long-dead princess named Pev Amri (anagram fans will figure that one out, as well as the play’s title character).

Patrick Noonan and Brad DePlanche in FST’s The Mystery of Irma Vep.

It doesn’t all make sense, and it’s not supposed to. If I didn’t laugh quite as hard as I thought I remembered doing years ago when the Asolo presented this show, that may be because the action all moves so fast, it’s only when you look back on it later that you fully get some of the jokes. For the audience, it’s sometimes a matter of trying to keep up.

The Mystery of Irma Vep continues through July 18 on FST’s mainstage; call 366-9000 or go to floridastudiotheatre.org.

Friday, June 27, 2008

A Moon for the Misbegotten

It’s a special night for the Banyan’s A Moon for the Misbegotten.

By Kay Kipling

There’s no doubt that A Moon for the Misbegotten is one of Eugene O’Neill’s most beautifully written—and heartbreaking—plays. There’s also little doubt that it provides a formidable acting challenge for those playing in this partly autobiographical story about O’Neill’s alcoholic brother, a woman who might be able to save him, and that woman’s conniving but charming tenant farmer father.

It’s been some time since there’s been a local production of Moon, so the Banyan Theater Company’s presentation (directed by Gil Lazier in a sort of parting gesture before he moves to New Mexico) is a welcome one. Lazier has looked into the hearts and minds of these characters with his usual empathy (perhaps channeling a little of the spirit of the late, great director Jose Quintero, who helmed the landmark Broadway production of the play and spent his last years in Sarasota), and he’s aided in setting the right tone by Jeffrey W. Dean’s design of the New England farmhouse and James A. Florek’s lighting, so crucial to providing the right moonlit spirit for one special night.

Robert M. Hefley and Jessica K. Peterson in the Banyan’s A Moon for the Misbegotten.

That night belongs to Josie Hogan (Jessica K. Peterson), a seemingly boisterous, tough woman who’s grown up fighting—and loving—her hard-living father Phil (Steven Clark Pachosa) while sending her brothers off into the larger world. She also feels a love for James Tyrone Jr. (Robert M. Hefley), the Hogans’ landlord (based on O’Neill’s older brother, who basically drank himself to death). Tyrone, a failed actor given to spouting grandiloquent lines from plays and spending his night boozing with and bedding tarts, likewise feels a strong affection for Josie, but the burden of guilt and sorrow he bears makes it unlikely he can ever find true happiness with anyone.

The first act sets up the play’s plot, which revolves around whether or not landlord Jim will be selling the Hogan land out from under them in order to grab enough quick money to hightail it back to New York, or whether he’ll keep his word to sell it only to them. As the evening wears on, and as both Phil and Jim swill down a boatload of whiskey, the question also becomes: Is there any hope for Josie and Jim to share their love and their lives?

If you know O’Neill, you probably know the answer to that. But Moon offers some of the playwright’s most touching and tenderly written scenes along the way, so you take nothing for granted. Although not physically such a mannishly large being as O’Neill describes Josie, Peterson is certainly a strong presence, and she’s capable of eloquently making the transitions between her bravura moments and her most vulnerable states, as she tries to help the haunted Tyrone. As Phil, a role that nearly allows an actor to steal the two leads’ thunder, Pachosa is always entertaining and vivid, with a natural gift for delivering O’Neill’s colorful Irish dialogue.

Hefley, who did good work in an earlier Banyan production of The Unexpected Man last season, seems miscast to some extent as Tyrone—a bit too mature, perhaps, and at times too stiff or actorish in his performance. He never quite successfully plumbs the full depths of Jim’s self-loathing, and the relationship between him and Josie doesn’t feel as developed as we might like. But Moon is so well-written and directed, with such a winning performance by Peterson, that it can’t fail to reach us anyway.

A Moon for the Misbegotten continues through July 12 in the Banyan production on the Asolo’s Cook stage; for tickets call 552-1032 or visit www.banyantheatercompany.com.

Monday, May 19, 2008

Working

A fresh look at the musical Working enlivens the Asolo Repertory Theatre stage.

By Kay Kipling

Attending a matinee performance of the Asolo Repertory Theatre’s Working, I couldn’t help but be struck by an irony: Virtually everyone in the audience was of retirement age, i.e., no longer “working,” as the characters in the musical are. No matter, though, they must have all “worked” at some time or other, and still found it possible to relate to the struggles, triumphs and observations of the working man and woman as told in this musical production.

Working is a new, updated version of the original by Stephen Schwartz and Nina Faso (from the book by Studs Terkel), which bowed 30 years ago and has had a long life in regional theaters since. Time to re-examine the way we work today, since a lot’s changed in those years, and time also for a couple of added songs by recent Tony nominee (for Broadway’s In the Heights) Lin-Manuel Miranda, offering a new tempo and a new outlook on the songs Delivery, featuring an engaging fast food delivery worker, and A Very Good Day, poignant in its look at people who do the jobs no one else seems to want, like taking care of children and the elderly. (Songs by Schwartz, James Taylor and other composers remain, too.)

The musical, as originally fashioned and as now directed by Gordon Greenberg, moves smoothly along as one worker’s story, told in the words of the real people interviewed, logically flows into another, from a trucker to a housewife, from a millworker to a union organizer, etc. Greenberg and scenic designer Beowulf Boritt bring us into the work of the cast and crew as well, with a three-level set that features actors’ dressing rooms on two levels and the musicians above them. The action moves from office cubicle to classroom to construction site with some simple props and backdrop projections of appropriate settings.

A strong cast of six, pared down from the original’s 17, brings energy and diversity to the stage, and each has several moments to really savor. A few favorites: Marie-France Arcilla as a millworker facing a lifetime of daily monotonous drudgery; Liz McCartney as a waitress who loves putting on a show as she serves; Darrin Baker as a laborer longing for his son to have