Reviews

By Hands Unknows/Two Girls/Veritas

Mon, 23 Aug 2010 14:24:13 -0400

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE – REPORT FROM THE FRINGE

The Fringe Festival is really off limits for a reviewer because the whole damn thing is a celebration of theatre, and for a theatre junkie what could be better. Even the shows that are not spectacular must be celebrated, to paraphrase the mountain climber George Mallory, because it’s there. Somehow through all the Salmon swimming up stream there are 200 or so shows that make it to be breeding ground. So hats off to them.

So I guess my job is to offer you some hot tidbits about shows that you must rush to and those to which there is no hurry.

BY HANDS UNKNOWN

This is a brave production. Hats off to this company for attempting to bring up a subject from our not so pleasant past. They have lefted plays from two books Strange Fruit: Plays on Lynching By American Women and The Plays of Georgia Douglas Johnson and created an evening that is both educational and painful.

Lynching is something we relegate to that pesky South where people married their cousins and walked around in overalls. But here we discover that it took place – into the late 1930’s – into all but four states. We never find out which four. It was an expeditious way to end a criminal investigation. An eye for an eye. Or in this case a death for an off hand remark, an argument, or in the case of Emmet Till – an alleged whistle directed toward a white woman.

The production falls short in the performance and direction department as these actors have been encouraged to “act”. The important stories they tell suffer as a result. It is only when you see them all lined up at the end of the evening, each taking a turn stating a phrase from the Anti-Lynching Bill that you realize they are each people with a worthy stage presence.

This meticulously researched piece needs a director to match.

BY HANDS UNKNOWN - New School, 151 Bank Street
Fri 13 @ 9  Tue 17 @ 6:45  Thu 19 @ 3  Sat 21 @ 4:45  Wed 25 @ 9
Wed, August 18 @ 7:00
Sat, August 21 @ 9:45
Fri, August 27 @ 10:00
Sat, August 28 @ 3:30

FOR TICKETS: http://www.fringenyc.org Go to Show Schedule and click on the show and the date.

TWO GIRLS

This is the story of two girls who grow up together in South Africa. Corinne Levitt is white and Lindiwe Dhlamini is black. I was very eager to see this play, as I think a lot of theatre goers would be, because it is an authentic voice from a land we know little about. South Africa is home to a world hero, Nelson Mandela, and as such has our attention.

Ms. Maisels is a precise actor – all of the eight characters she portrays are crisp and clear. They do not hold any secrets, however, with the exception of one moment when Corinne asks a favor of Lindiwe that reveals her hypocrisy. This is a show of pleasant generalities. The black people are wise and the white people are foolish. When the two now women come to the States together, one as nanny for the other of course, it is in 2008. Corrine begins to work for Obama and we hear the litany of hope for America through a foreigner’s eyes. Similarly Lindiwe is inspired because we, the Americans, have taken back our country. She will return to South Africa with her newly minted degree and help take back her own.

This is more travelogue than story. There are no opposing forces, challenges or questions. There is a recitation of what appears to be the facts and a very earnest desire on the part of Maisels that we like her and her characters. What’s not to like? She is a charming personality.

Now she can put her talents to use and find a dramaturge who will teach her how to tell a story. Perhaps she could start with her grandfather, Aaron Maisels, who was a defense attorney for Nelson Mandela for a trial that lasted 1956-1961. Hmnnnn…….

Why is it that we humans ignore the gifts sitting at our feet?

TWO GIRLS - – Written and Performed by Gabrielle Maisel, Directed by Joey Brenneman

Connelly Theatre
220 East 4th Street (Between A-B)
Thu 19 @ 7  Sat 21 @ 3:15  Sun 22 @ 2  Tue 24 @ 10:15  Wed 25 @ 4*

VERITAS
In 1920 a young man committed suicide in Fall River, Massachusetts. He left behind letters from fellow students at Harvard that indicated there was more going on there than cracking the books. A homosexual clan is identified and an inquiry begun. Much like the more often sited HUAC hearings, the students are brought in and questioned by a “Secret Court”. Are they homosexuals? Or do they know anyone who is? Before a fortnight passes, six students have been pronounced guilty and expelled from Harvard. Actually only 5 were expelled because one committed suicide the night before the verdicts were announced.

The discovery of the documents related to this case happened in 2002 and after a lot of haggling a redacted version of the documents was released to the Harvard Crimson. The then president Lawrence H. Summers released a statement saying that this incident was shameful, but it was also past. It’s relevance was represented by the way students of today were being treated.

It’s a fascinating tale that nearly makes a case for itself onstage. What begins as a Greek Chorus – an excellent touch and well done – pulls us instantly into the world of these young well dressed boys. As the evening progresses however, we lose the sense that this is 1920. There is a physical familiarity in what appear to be public places that I cannot imagine happening. And we leap from character to character so quickly that it is easy to get lost. Story lines tangle like sticky string until we are not certain who is at risk. Things kick up a notch as the hearings begin and the boys turn on one another one by one to save themselves. But just as we start to care there is a too clever by half epilogue that brings everything to a screeching halt.

The performers are quite quite good, with a particular nod to Paul Downs Colaizzo and Matt Steiner who as Nathaniel Wolff and Keith Smerage were the only two characters allowed a story that lasted more than a few shining moments.

This is another one of those plays that digs in dark places of the American past. Kudos for the effort. And I believe there is a play in there – but it will require more excavation and imagination to coax it out into the light.

by Stan Richardson, Directed by Ryan Davis

Fri 20 @ 7  Sun 22 @ 8  Tue 24 @ 4:15  Thu 26 @ 3:30  Fri 27 @ 5:15  Sat 28 @ 8

Get RIch Cheating/Rites of Privacy

Thu, 19 Aug 2010 10:50:05 -0400

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE – REPORT FROM THE FRINGE

The Fringe Festival is really off limits for a reviewer because the whole damn thing is a celebration of theatre, and for a theatre junkie what could be better. Even the shows that are not spectacular must be celebrated, to paraphrase the mountain climber George Mallory, because it’s there. Somehow through all the Salmon swimming up stream there are 200 or so shows that make it to be breeding ground. So hats off to them.

So I guess my job is to offer you some hot tidbits about shows that you must rush to and those to which there is no hurry.

GET RICH CHEATING

I have been though enough self help seminars, so often led by people who failed to take their own advice, that the premise of this show is enough to give me the Heebie Jeebies. As a matter of fact, the woman taking tickets was telling people to sit as close to the front as possible because the show was interactive. Wrong thing to say to moi.

That being said, the premise of this show is clever to the point of being shameful. Jeff Kreisler has done his homework on how people have succeeded by cheating throughout the ages, and he is here to tell you how to do it. His lesson stretched from Genghis Kahn, whose proposed merger with Asia was rejected, to Jeffrey Skilling who reflected that his email directive to shred documents was a joke.

Kreisler says we are born “wanting stuff” and that begins with the boob. Yep, he actually says that. It is human nature to want stuff because the only way to fill the hole in your soul is through the acquisition of stuff. Visualize, confront and achieve, he tells us. Jail will most likely follow, but that isn’t so bad is it? People are dumb (like that was news) and it is easy to cheat them.

Actually, his only original piece of advice is that college is overrated and student loans are crippling out college graduates. You are fine as long as you are in school, but the minute you graduate, those loan people hunt you down. Kreisler posits that if Osama Bin Laden had taken out a student loan, we would have caught him years ago.

Most of this show is theory, and as such, never leads anywhere. There are no specific skill sets offered, no measurable results laid out. There is only encouragement to cheat and a laundry list of people, corporations and political entities who have done so with pretty great results – for them.

The extra step here is to actually take the audience through the steps of figuring out how to cheat. Give us a step-by step guide as they do in the over-priced seminars that offer you happiness if you can afford the seminar.

But I suppose that if Kreisler were to offer the manual on cheating he would either be out practicing his craft or in jail for teaching it.

A conundrum.

PS Kreisler also offers a book, which actually looked pretty good.

GET RICH CHEATING, Written and performed by Jeff Kreisler, Directed by Anne Teutschel

Location: The Soho Playhouse (15 VanDam 15 Street)
Dates / Time:
Sunday - August 22 at 7:30 - 8:30 pm
Tuesday - August 24 at 2:00 pm
Friday - August 27th @ 20:00

RITES OF PRIVACY

David Rhodes is an excellent actor. I happen to know him off stage, and when he performs I forget my friend and see only the character. This is a good thing. In Rites of Privacy he gives us the stories of two women and three men, all of whom have secrets. Each of these characters in Rites of Privacy is a tiny bubble of magic. A Southern Belle reminisces about her husband. The only Jew in nowhere New Hampshire remembers being on the lake with his brother. A Holocaust survivor, whose father duped the gentiles and deserted his family, see ghosts never born. A doctor who is on call must attend to her own private emergency. A Belgian boy trades his Hassidic heritage for New York’s dangerous nights.

Rhodes also has an ear and eye for detail – not only in his costumes but more importantly in his writing. The child therapist who could only talk to one of his clients via a toy telephone. A boy who nearly drowns “didn’t look too good.” A dog is kicked across a parking lot. A Chinese immigrant chooses honor over love. The long curls of a Hassid are cut off and released through a taxi window.

In between these stories Rhodes enlightens us with his own tale. The son of two psychoanalysts, who held artists in high regard as long as they weren’t part of the family, he is himself a man with secrets that he lets drop like tiny grenades while he bridges the worlds of his characters.

Where I fell off the apple cart is in the “W” department. Why are these people talking to us? What do they need – other than to be heard.? Who is that narrator under all the makeup and costumes? Why is tonight different from every other night?

There are depths to this piece that have not been plumbed. Whether this is from a lack of direction, which was absent in the extreme, or from over familiarity with the material I cannot say. (As a writer I can attest to the fact that I am often the last to know what my characters are doing.) The layers are there, but the digging is often minimal with the result that the overall tone of this evening is melancholy. A few belly laughs would do wonders for this piece. Rhodes also underplays the most fascinating story of the evening – his own.

Rhodes has the chops to give us more than we bargained for but doesn’t dip his foot into that stream often enough for it to hit us where we live. The characters in Rites of Privacy are folks you will not forget, but you may leave the theatre wishing you had experienced more than these brief encounters.

Something to look forward to.

HERE Arts Center- Dorothy B. Williams Theater, 145 Sixth Avenue at Spring Street
Wed, August 18 @ 7:00
Sat, August 21 @ 9:45
Fri, August 27 @ 10:00
Sat, August 28 @ 3:30

FOR TICKETS: http://www.fringenyc.org Go to Show Schedule and click on the show and the date.

A Raisin in the Salad/Over There

Wed, 18 Aug 2010 10:35:39 -0400

A RAISIN IN THE SALAD: BLACK PLAYS FOR WHITE PEOPLE

One of the funniest lines in this show comes at the beginning when we are asked to welcome our host for the evening, KRF/Daddy (Lelund Durond Thomspon) who is “not quite darker than a paper bag”. Out he comes – and the afore mentioned is true. It is also something you can’t stop thinking about all night.

Not that the play lacks other moments – there are many. Set up as a sort of Vaudeville evening complete with scene title cards stage left, Raisin is s series of sketches, most of which have to do with race. I am all for this subject because we see too little of it, and our racial issues get swept off the table in favor of the myth that we are a loving and lovely melting pot.

The story is that KFR is bidding adieu to writing the plays he has been writing for white people. He has assembled his characters so that he can break the news to them. They, however, don’t like this idea because it means their survival is at stake. They step out of the scenes he has written for them and start creating their own dialogue.

The simple fact here is that some of the scenes work and some don’t. The titles are clever if you are a theatre and movie buff: The Color Blind Side, A Brother Sighs, An Oreo By Any Other Name, They Like Me – They Really Like Me. The characters are named by their race and gender – Whitelady, Blackgirl etc. The scenes step over the lines deemed appropriate by normal folk and eventually end up with the “n” word being bandied about.

What is most perplexing here is that the meat of the production is given to the white actors, as if to drive home the fact that there is a dearth of black roles out there. But the author fails to comment on his own work, which leaves us puzzled. What is the point of this play? Mr. Free gives us plenty of grey area without a lot of specificity with the result that evening is a dense fog.

As a matter of fact, the most significant moment of the play comes when we hear the story of the time Nat King Cole, a new resident of Santa Monica (Actually it was Hancock Park) was invited to a party at a white neighbor’s. When he arrived he was shown to the piano. Instead of objecting he sat and entertained people for some time, then left. The following day he sent the neighbor his bill.

Note to writers: If you can’t write a better story than this, best not to include it in your play.

The Players Theater
Fri, August 13 @ 5:15
Sat, August 14 @ NOON
Mon, August 16 @ 7:45
Fri, August 20 @ 9:15
Mon, August 23 @ 5

FOR TICKETS: http://www.fringenyc.org Go to Show Schedule and click on the show and the date.

OVER THERE: COMEDY IS HIS BEST WEAPON Written and performed by PJ Walsh, Directed by Dion Flynn

PJ Walsh is a patriot, and he has proved that many times over. He is sincere, and he can be very funny. All of these put together don’t quite add up to a successful show.

Part of this is that Walsh just doesn’t have the licks down yet. This isn’t to say he will never have them. He is persistent if nothing else. His training as a comedian will help, but when he veers off that road into biography, it is a whole different animal. Or that is how it looks.

As a kid in school he was a goof off. Load of potential with little to show for it, even though his principal did single him out for a special award in 8th grade. He had the smarts to enlist in the Navy because in 1990, nothing was happening and nothing was going to happen. Oops. Except the first of the Bush wars. While Walsh was trying to get his but over seas, but instead wound up a dental technician. He also wound up a certified, confident m-a-n. He traveled the world and served more than honorably. He was so honorable that he was assigned to Clinton’s White House as THE Dental Technician on Deck. Since then he has been on the road as a comedian and returns periodically as a volunteer entertainer to the soldiers in the Middle East. I expect he goes over really well with the enlisted personnel – they know who he is. He doesn’t have to prove anything to his fellow soldiers.

Where he steps on his toes in this show are the places where he pauses to do jus that. He pauses to be sincere. There are more than a few “Let me explain (s)” offered that should be stricken from the script because they don’t further the joke – they either really do explain or raise Walsh’s sincerity level. And this is his most un-needed flavor. Walsh is already sincere and honest – to paint that color over and over becomes redundant and weakens the story. IN addition – there is no story. We are promised one in the beginning as he talks to an imaginary person who was the impetus for this evening, but we never come back around to who that person was.

Toward the end of the show Walsh reveals a truth he has learned – that when you decide to become a comedian you are never as funny as the day before you made that choice. Indeed.

Walsh has the smarts and the stories. He needs a director with some imagination – one who will not have him switch positions as he switches characters, for instance, because it is unnecessary. He also needs someone with a pair of scissors who will pick up his text and cut away all the extraneous parts until the skeleton of the “what’s the point” appears.

I hope Walsh goes for it.

The Players Theater
Wed, August 18 @ 4:30
Sat, August 21 @ 2:45
Sun, August 22 @ 6:15
Wed, August 25 @ 9:45

FOR TICKETS: http://www.fringenyc.org Go to Show Schedule and click on the show and the date.

Amsterdam Abortion Survivor

Mon, 16 Aug 2010 17:15:15 -0400

The Fringe Festival is really off limits for a reviewer because the whole damn thing is a celebration of theatre, and for a theatre junkie what could be better. Even the shows that are not spectacular must be celebrated, to paraphrase the mountain climber George Mallory, because it’s there. Somehow through all the Salmon swimming up stream there are 200 or so shows that make it to be breeding ground. So hats off to them.

So I guess my job is to offer you some hot tidbits about shows that you must rush to and those to which there is no hurry.

RUSH TO THIS SHOW: Amsterdam Abortion Survivor because it is so not about the words in its title (hence my first question) and so VERY much about life turned, not on it’s head, but set off its axis by the few degrees that make everything change.

Micha Wertheim has a sense of humor that is intelligent the way Steve Martin is intelligent, and ordinary the way Paula Poundstone is ordinary. He is also Dutch, which adds a whole other flavor to the mix. (I once worked for a Dutch guy who married my then boss. When he found out I was doing her books he took the project away from me and went through everything himself. He discovered a $.10 cent discrepancy in the three years of figures and his comment was, “Am I accusing you of steeling? Of course not.” I was fired the next week. But I assure you I am completely over it.)

Wertheim begins this too short evening by explaining that he suffers from paranoia and abandonment issues which means that he is constantly thinking, “Where has everybody gone?” Get it? The rest of the evening is seamless and peppered with little mind jogs that keep you hopping. He pulls you into his train of thought the way that Inception was supposed to – except that as you go deeper down it all gets more hilarious.

He understands that we in New York have an “us vs. them” view of the world. We are nearly a country unto ourselves, after all. Wertheim gently reminds us that there is an even higher level of existence of which we New Yorkers should be aware. That would be Europe. Europe after all was where Lance Armstrong realized that he could do more with drugs than just beat cancer. Wertheim is fluent in seven languages and one accent (Israeli – that was all they taught there) and his mission is to raise our awareness, but not too high. There are limits after all – even in the best of situations.

Wertheim’s humor is brave, dark and universal. Come to think of it – he is probably closer to Mark Twain than anyone else.

With so little time and so many shows at the Fringe – THIS is one you do not want to miss.

AMSTERDAM ABORTION SURVIVOR Written and performed by: Micha Wertheim, Stage design by: Bart van den Boom, Graphic design: Joost van Grinsven

Production: Harry Kies Theater Producties /New York Fringe
Location: The Soho Playhouse (15 vandam 15 streat)
Dates / Time:
FRIDAY - August 13th at 7:30 - 8:30 pm
THURSDAY - August 19th at 5:15 - 6:15 pm
WEDNESDAY - August 25th at 8:00 - 9:00 pm
THURSDAY - August 26th at 3:15 - 4:15 pm
FRIDAY - August 27th @ 8:15 - 9:15 pm

FOR TICKETS: http://www.fringenyc.org Go to Show Schedule and click on the show and the date.

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Secrets of the Trade

Wed, 11 Aug 2010 17:21:56 -0400

This play is a brave attempt to be all things to all people. It dabbles with homosexuality, parental jealousy, theatrical manipulators, and more. It is equal parts sincerity and sentimentality. There is no one thread that pulls it all together, however, so the event is a bit of a bore.

Andrew Lipman (Noah Robbins) is a teenager besotted with Broadway. He has been so since the age of 7 when he saw his first show. His mother Joanne ( Amy Aquino) and father Peter (Mark Nelson) not only support but encourage him to pursue his dreams. Each of them are living examples of dreams not fulfilled, and by God, their child will not suffer the same fate if they have anything to say about it. So when the 16-year-old Andy wants to write his idol Martin Kerner (John Glover), his parents not only condone it, they offer to edit the missive.

The letter is smart and snappy, but there is no reply until 2 years later when Andy is “ready” and “legal”. It is these two viewpoints between Jonathan Tolins dashes back and forth. Is Kerner a dirty old man, or is he a mentor of worth?

Turns out he is neither. Kerner is just human. He is a man who takes delight in the company of youth but who can or will not deliver the goods he promises. There is no door he will open, there is no connection he will make. There is only encouragement for our Andy to try and try again. This makes the play a little too much like life and not enough like art.

The actors do their due diligence and dig deep into this material that nearly delivers. John Glover hurls himself into this part with a grace and enthusiasm that makes you believe something will happen right up until the last moment. Amy Aquino and Mark Nelson are touching as the imperfect parents who perform double duty. They encourage their son’s dreams and stuff down their own life disappointments at the same time. They also acquit themselves admirably in a host of other roles. As Andrew, Noah Robbins becomes more credible the older he becomes. They play covers a decade. Robbins’ teenage shtick worked in Brighton Beach Memoirs but he clearly has other arrows in his bag of tricks that would have worked better here. As Bradley, Kerner’s Assistant, and former young adoring boy, Bill Brochtrup spends most of his time onstage listening, but he listens better than a lot of actors speak. He is a pleasure to watch.
Matt Shakman’s direction is, like the text, timid. There are several excellent confrontations in this play, in each of which the actors are directed to deliver a burst of tirade, then turn and freeze in a pensive moment. This is Directing 101 – the sort of thing that happens from lack of attention rather than commitment. The set design does nothing to help and more or less traps these actors as if they were toy people on a model of a set.

This show will more than likely sell out, however, because underneath all the bland bits is the story of a kid who wants to make good and does. When the mentor fails him, the boy becomes a man anyway, with the good sense that his parents gave him. He becomes so good that he understands that although his mentor had feet of clay, he had a heart of gold – sort of, and that his true support team is, as it always was, his family. Secrets of the Trade tells us what we want to hear, and a lot people will settle for that, as opposed to a really good play, over and over again. If you want proof, just turn on your television.

By Jonathan Tolins; directed by Matt Shakman

WITH: Amy Aquino (Joanne Lipman), Bill Brochtrup (Bradley), John Glover (Martin Kerner), Mark Nelson (Peter Lipman) and Noah Robbins (Andrew Lipman).

; sets by Mark Worthington; costumes by Alejo Vietti; lighting by Mike Durst; music and sound by John Gromada; production stage manager, Sarah Caddell; general manager, Reuben Saunders; associate artistic director, Michelle Bossy. Presented by Primary Stages, Casey Childs, executive producer; Andrew Leynse, artistic director; Elliot Fox, managing director; in association with Ted Snowdon. At the 59E59 Theaters, 59 East 59th Street, Manhattan; (212) 279-4200; ticketcentral.com. Through Sept. 4. Running time: 2 hours.

Viagra Falls

Thu, 29 Jul 2010 12:46:48 -0400

In a word – unfortunate. There is barely a square inch of production values that is not covered by this word.

Two men in their ‘70’s get together to celebrate a birthday. The birthday boy Carley (Lou CUtell) has taken a Viagra and wants to go out on the town. Moe (Bernie Kopell) his downtrodden schmo of a chum says no. Initially Moe doesn’t know about the Viagra and is simply embarrassed to go out into life’s pathways. He is resigned and ready to die whenever that blessed event may come. Charley, on the other hand, is ready to cha-cha-cha and awaits any woman who will accept his invitation.

When Moe puts the kibosh on going out on the town, Charley decides he will bring the party to them and orders a hooker from an agency that specializes in the needs of older men. Soon Jaqueline Tempest (Teresa Ganzel) shows up, and the evening, supposedly, takes off.

Except it doesn’t. It never even gets started. This is because the script is flimsier than gauze and these otherwise good, not great, actors have been hung out to dry. The odd bit here is that one of the writers is Lou Cutell, thus giving him the dubious honor of having done himself in.

The main problem here is that these two vibrant actors, in their 70’s, were told to “act old”. That much is given to them in the script. They talk about how it feels to have your body betray you, how life is slowly sagging downhill and how the world out there has done ‘em wrong.

Fellas – this just ain’t funny any more. And it reduces the characters – two men who have known each other since the Korean war where one saved the other’s life – to caricatures. Please!!! Give me old. Give me grumpy. But give me a story with it. Remember George Burns – he twinkled up to the age of 100. He was intriguing, opinionated, and dogged. Give me THAT please.

As well Teresa Ganzell is reduced to playing a stereotype – tall gal with big bouncy tits who is plucky and a little down on her luck. She is told to be earnest and a little dim and do it using a voice that mainlines sweetness to the point that it starts sounding like fingernails on a blackboard.

It would be one thing if these actors were given the job of being despondent or dim within the confines of a script that gave them something to chew on. This script along with the direction, which is shamefully lifeless, do not. Watching these people work nearly had me hallucinating with what any of them might do if things were different.

Sadly, this production will not give any of us that pleasure. Too bad there is not more work out there for older actors so that they would not have to resort to writing or working with scripts like this.

VIAGRA FALLS by Joao Machado and Lou Cutell

WITH Bernie Kopell (Moe Crubbs), Lou Cutell (Charley Millhouse) and Teresa Ganzel (Jacqueline Tempest)

Sets by Sydney Z. Litwack Lights by Joshua Scherr, Costumes by Bob Mackie. Stanley Browne, John Finocchio, Robert Nederlander, Jr. and SJ Productions, Inc. Producers. The Little Shubert Theater, 422 West 42nd Street, Clinton; (212) 239-6200, telecharge.com.

Freud’s Last Session

Fri, 23 Jul 2010 08:38:50 -0400

What was that old ad? "You don't have to be Jewish to love Levy's (Rye)"? Well here's a newsflash: you don't have to be a psychoanalyst to love this play. You should have a nice working brain and a healthy respect for ideas, but that's about it. I know enough about Freud and C.S. Lewis combined to fill a juice glass, and I adored every bit of Freud’s Last Session.

Set in London in 1939, weeks before Freud's death from cancer of the mouth, the story goes that Freud was visited by a professor from Oxford. The idea became – what if it had been C.S.Lewis? Mark St. Germain has grabbed the ball and run with it, turning two icons into opposing tidal waves in a medium sized bay.

Freud was not only an agnostic but an annoyance to anyone who hung their coat on organized religion. As this play opens his most recent book has floated the theory that Moses was not only an Egyptian but was murdered by the Jews (instead of living to the ripe old age of 120 as it says in Deuteronomy) C. S. Lewis on the other hand, had been converted to Christianity as an adult by experiencing a revelation while riding in the side car of his brother’s motorcycle. Their positions were solid and simple. While they both agreed that the greatest problem with religion were the people who practiced them, Freud regarded them all as institutions and thus suspect, while Lewis cautioned that one could not toss the baby out with the bathwater.

In this play, Freud has invited Lewis to his home to answer the question of how it was that he changed from an agnostic to a believer. How Lewis:

FREUD
-could suddenly abandon truth and embrace an insidious lie.

LEWIS
What if it isn’t a lie? Have you considered how terrifying it might be to realize that you are wrong?

FREUD
No more terrifying than it would be for you. Professor Lewis-

Before they can go toe to toe they are interrupted by a BBC Broadcast from Prime Minister Chamberlain reporting on the invasion of Poland and calling on the blessing of God to see them all through the upcoming ordeal. Having left Austria months before, Freud has his doubts about God's blessings and human behavior, while Lewis maintains that conscience and goodness will overcome tyranny.

These two go back and forth like tennis pros –the kind we had before somebody got the brainy idea to measure the speed of their serve. Today's tennis is all about strength and power. Years ago it was about strategy and finesse. Freud and Lewis use words and ideas instead of rackets and balls. Aces are served, followed by volleys. A quick dispatch. Point taken. New game begun.

St. Germain has created dialogue that is brilliant and seamless. He knows exactly when to press the pedal to the metal, and when to pull back. He peppers the dialogue with both depth and humor as the ideas mix with current events like a river flowing over boulders. As directed by Tyler Marchant, Mark H. Dold (Lewis) and Martin Rayner (Freud) perform a near perfect pas de deux. They exchange places, positions and ideas like two master dancers. As Lewis is in his prime Dold is full of the vitality that the combination of faith and intellect have produced. As Freud in his final days, Rayner comes close to capturing the withdrawal of a brilliant light without making the moment mawkish. They are pure pleasure to watch.

This is a glorious evening of theatre. Life and death debated in the middle of life and death. An example of ideas fighting to shape reality. When these two titans clash, the spark they create is Divine.

Now if they could just replace that Kool-Aid pitcher and add a garden view the experience would be even better.

FREUD’s LAST SESSION by Mark St. Germain, Suggested by “The Question of God” by Dr. Armand M. Nicholi, Jr. Directed by Tyler Marchant

With Mark H. Dold (C.S.Lewis) and Martin Rayner (Sigmund Freud)

Scenic design for FREUD’S LAST SESSION is by Brian Prather, with costume design by Mark Mariani, lighting design by Clifton Taylor, and sound design by Beth Lake

Carolyn Rossi Copeland, Robert Stillman and Jack Thomas (Producer)
Marjorie S. Deane Little Theatre, 10 West 64thStreet Performances are Tuesdays at 7pm, Wednesday through Saturday evenings at 8pm, with matinees Wednesday and Saturday at 2pm and Sunday at 3pm. Tickets are $65 and are available by calling 866-811-4111 or through www.FreudsLastSession.com. A limited number of $20 Student Rush tickets (with valid student ID) are available at the box office beginning three hours prior to each performance.

For more information, visit www.FreudsLastSession.com.

Delacorte’s Summer Rep

Sat, 10 Jul 2010 15:04:08 -0400

There are few delights equal to an evening at the Delacorte Theatre watching good actors do what they do best while surrounded and supported by a technical design team and staff that makes the whole event seamless. If you are lucky enough to be there on a summer night that is not 90 degrees so much the better. If you are even luckier you will get that allow you to lose sight of the 5th Avenue apartments. It is a bit of Heaven.

Such was my luck, and grateful am I. These are two fascinating evenings with plenty of the good stuff on hand.

First of all,, the fact that this is a Summer Repertoire is thrilling. With the exception of Al Pacino (Shylock), Ruben Santiago-Hudson (Leontes) and Lily Rabe (Portia) all the actors have featured roles in each play. This offers them the opportunity to strut their stuff in the best sense of the phrase. And it gives us a rounded opportunity to watch them, for what may appear a lack luster performance in one play, becomes a matter one would gladly lay at the feet of the director when compared with a terrific showing in the opposite play.

I almost wish you could combine the two plays, because they were uneven and thrilling at the same time.

The Winter’s Tale is a tale of some magnitude. As with both plays, the established negative energy begins at the very top of the actor’s appearance. In Winter’s Tale, Leontes, King of Sicilia, is in a kafuffle because he suspects his wife Hermione (Linda Emond) of being unfaithful to him with his friend Polixenes (Jesse L. Martin ), King of Bohemia. The result is banishment, punishment and redemption.

When Polixenes escapes death through the intercession of Leontes’ aide Camillo (Byron Jennings) Leontes assumes the worst. He jails his wife, banishes her newborn child, and ignores both the specific warning of Paulina (Marianne Jean-Babtiste) as well the Oracle of Apollo who pronounces judgment against him. In the pronouncement of the Oracle is also the key to unraveling the King’s mistakes.

Hence the second act takes place in Bohemia where we are treated to a kinder gentler life and story line. Leontes child Perdita (Heather Lind) was saved by a shepherd (Max Wright) and is alive, and well, and gorgeous. So too is Polixenes’ son Florizel (François Battiste) who falls for the maid. When Polixines discovers his son is betrothed to a commoner, Camillo – ever the guy with a quick exit solution) sends the sad young couple back to Sicilia to seek shelter from Leontes with the hope that Polixenes will follow, the two Kings will be reconciled, and all will be well. All happens according to plan with the added attraction of Perdita’s identity uncovered and the restoration of Hermione to her King.

Talk about convoluted!

In the more familiar Merchant of Venice, Bassanio (Hamish Linklater) needs funds to woo Portia, a maid of means whose father has left her a fortune and permission to marry any man who successfully unravels the riddle of the three chests. Bassanio’s friend Antonio (Byron Jennings) has no cash but is willing to risk his own reputation by means of a loan. Thus enters Shylock who is a usurer, meaning that he charges for lending money – a thing frowned upon by the elite unless they happened to need some equity. Like Leontes – Shylock enters angry. On this particular day he has had it up to here with being treated like trash simply because he is a Jew. The possibility of taking advantage of Antonio, should his expected fortunes not return from sea, completely engages Shylock. He demands as security a pound of flesh, the exact source to be determined at another date by Shylock. Antonio accepts the conditions. The money is secured.

Bassanio successfully woos Portia, but things go badly for Antonio. When his fortunes do not come into port he is left at the mercy of Shylock who is short on that quality. As the trial begins, and Shylock pleads his case for his pound of flesh – Antonio’s heart to be precise. Portia follows Bassanio to court. Disguised as a man, she defeats Shylock. His punishment is to be Baptized, thus making him an outcast in any religious circle.

These are gargantuan tales of human love, folly, arrogance and revenge. At a little over three hours each, they also remind us of a time when audiences had longer attention spans and less instant gratification on a daily basis. The plots take ages to spin out, because once the tale is revealed the conclusion is not far behind. So it is in the telling of the tale that we must be engaged, encouraged and fussed over. Neither play succeeds completely in this regard. And it is the main characters in each that seem to be the impediment.

As Leontes, Mr. Santiago-Hudson was a trifle dull. Leontes busts out of the gate with jealousy and we should be saddling up fast. In this case I found myself plodding along behind him figuring I would catch up and that Leontes fire in the belly would eventually be revealed. It never was, although he fared batter in the second act when he was in a state of repentance and mourning. The supporting cast sparkled under the leadership of Marianne Jean-Baptiste whose gives “lioness” a new meaning. She possesses a ferocity and elegance that is dazzling. Byron Jennings was clear and steady in the pivotal role of Camillo, a man who modifies his behavior but never alters his allegiance.

As Shylock, Pacino seems to be in a world all his own. He shuffles, mumbles, rages and takes on Shakespeare’s meter (although Shylock’s text is both prose and iambic pentameter) like a man who has just has his jaw unwired and is a little unsteady. The words are like marbles he explores before spitting them out, and when the words do arrive they sound like they passed through Barbara Walters for a final passport stamp. A little of this goes a long way, and this style combined with Shylock’s never wavering rage leaves us feeling perplexed more than anything else. Perplexed as in “What the heck WAS that?”

On the other hand, Lily Rabe, is a treasure. She is strong, passionate, smart and many layered. She listens and speaks with her entire body. This is not text for her, this is a life essence with which she fills an entire canvas. She is supremely aided by Marianne Jean-Baptiste who gives another glowing, if somewhat briefer, performance as Nerissa. Byron Jennings’ Antonio is another terric performance. He is a man of limited vision and honest business sense. It is his sin of negligence in past treatment of a Jew that gets him into a pickle, and the reality of it simply astonishes him.

For comic effect, for there are always clowns, Winter’s Tale is the odds on favorite because the comedy is laid out like stones on a path. For whatever reason, however, it has been neglected or overblown at every turn and leaves a stale taste.

Surprisingly it is the comedy in Merchant that succeeds in every way. Max Wright is brilliant as the Prince of Arragon who dallies over the choice of one of Portia’s mystery chests. Times appears to slow down as this brilliant master actor spins his monologue into pure gold. As well, the text has been mined for any moment that will shed light in this dark take - including a fine and surprising performance by Jesse L. Martin as Graziano.

So – a mixed bag of tricks laid out on a breathtaking set by Mark Wendland that folds, and disappears, and transforms and enchants. It is magic of the best sort that has a life of its own even without an actor present. It is the platform under the stars that supports this gift of theatre in New York, not to mention the traffic of the night dwelling creatures who generously share their home with us bi-peds during the lush green time.

THE WINTER’S TALE

By William Shakespeare; directed by Michael Greif

WITH: Happy Anderson (Mariner), Gerry Bamman (Antigonus), Francois Battiste (Florizel), Linda Emond (Hermione), Jesse Tyler Ferguson (Clown), Shalita Grant (Emilia/Mopsa), Bethany Heinrich (Dorcas), Marianne Jean-Baptiste (Paulina), Byron Jennings (Camillo), Heather Lind (Perdita), Hamish Linklater (Autolycus), Alexander Maier (Mamillius), Jesse L. Martin (Polixenes), Nyambi Nyambi (Cleomenes), Matthew Rauch (Dion), Ruben Santiago-Hudson (Leontes) and Max Wright (Shepherd), and Liza J. Bennett, Ms. Heinrich and Tia James (Serving Women to the Queen); Bill Heck, Richard Topol and Mr. Battiste (Sicilian Lords); and Mr. Anderson, Tyler Caffall, Cary Donaldson and Luke Forbes (Sicilian Lords and Soldiers).

Sets by Mark Wendland; costumes by Clint Ramos; lighting by Ken Posner; music by Tom Kitt; sound by Acme Sound Partners; puppetry by Lake Simons; music director, Keith Cotton; choreography by Dontee Kiehn; associate artistic director, Mandy Hackett; associate producer, Jenny Gersten; director of production, Ruth E. Sternberg. A Shakespeare in the Park production, presented by the Public Theater, Oskar Eustis, artistic director; Andrew D. Hamingson, executive director. At the Delacorte Theater, Central Park; shakespeareinthepark.org. Through Aug. 1. Running time: 3 hours.

THE MERCHANT OF VENICE By William Shakespeare; directed by Daniel Sullivan

WITH: Gerry Bamman (Duke of Venice), Francois Battiste (Salerio), Jesse Tyler Ferguson (Launcelot Gobbo), Bill Heck (Lorenzo), Marianne Jean-Baptiste (Nerissa), Byron Jennings (Antonio), Heather Lind (Jessica), Hamish Linklater (Bassanio), Jesse L. Martin (Gratiano), Nyambi Nyambi (Prince of Morocco), Al Pacino (Shylock), Lily Rabe (Portia), Matthew Rauch (Solanio), Richard Topol (Tubal) and Max Wright (Prince of Arragon), and Happy Anderson, Liza J. Bennett, Tyler Caffall, Cary Donaldson, Luke Forbes, Bryce Gill, Shalita Grant, Jade Hawk, Tia James, Kelsey Kurz, Brian MacDonald, Doren Makhloghi and Joe Short (Ensemble).

Sets by Mark Wendland; costumes by Jess Goldstein; lighting by Ken Posner; music by Dan Moses Schreier; sound by Acme Sound Partners; fight director, Thomas Schall; associate artistic director, Mandy Hackett; associate producer, Jenny Gersten; director of production, Ruth E. Sternberg. A Shakespeare in the Park production, presented by the Public Theater, Oskar Eustis, artistic director; Andrew D. Hamingson, executive director. At the Delacorte Theater, Central Park; shakespeareinthepark.org. Through Aug. 1. Running time: three hours.

The Grand Manner

Mon, 28 Jun 2010 15:23:32 -0400

Having seen this play and having read this play I can state with certainty that this script is thinner than gauze.

This is an autobiographical play recalling a trip that the author, A. R. Gurney - here as Peter (Bobby Steggert) – made from his school in New Hampshire. It was a pilgrimage really, all the way to New York to see Antony and Cleopatra (playing around the corner from A Streetcar Named Desire starring Marlon Brando). Katherine Cornell (Kate Burton), anointed the First Lady of Theatre along with her contemporary Helen Hayes, was Cleopatra. Pete, like Cornell, was from Buffalo, and in those days that was enough to get an audience with the star. Cornell entertained Pete for upwards of three minutes, enough time to offer him a Coca-Cola and then remember she didn’t have enough time to watch him drink it. She signed his program and bid him a gracious, grand adieu.

That meeting has been floating around Gurney’s head for 60 or so years. And he (and Pete) wondered if he might make it into a play. Now he has, and the bad news is that the 90 minutes that make up the fantasy are less interesting than the three minutes on which it is based.

This is a sort of travelogue through the theatre’s past. We hear that Charlton Heston has a small part in Cornell’s production. The Tony Awards were new. Marlon Brando had been offered the part of Antony but chose Streetcar instead . Pat Weaver at NBC believed that television could be a new venue for great theatre. Mary Martin wanted to play Peter Pan. The Lunts were charming and intimidating.

And most of all we learn that Cornell saw herself as someone who should be put out to pasture along with her “Grand Manner,” and that the world was making it self ready for the new generation, the Jackie Robinson’s and the Pete’s of the world. Even though she was 25 years away from her final curtain she was feeling tired and insecure. Despite the love of her “great and good friend” Gert Macy (Brenda Wehle) and her gay husband Guthrie McClintic (Boyd Gaines ), she felt a little removed and tired of it all.

Well, that is what Gurney fantasizes. He also fantasized that each of these three people opened up to Pete and told him secrets they didn’t normally share with the public. Why? Who knows. It is all part of the implausibility of the play.

The only action that takes place comes in the scene where McClintic tries to pick up Pete, who is too naïve to understand what is happening. When Cornell realizes what is happening she puts a halt to it – because Pete is from Buffalo, and exceptions must be made somewhere.

Other than that it’s a perfectly still evening without a touch of grand anything. Burton seems too honest to be grand. From the reading I have done, Cornell was a big proponent of grand. Martha Graham, wrote: "One evening Kit spoke of making an exit. 'Martha, when you exit take everything with you, even the grand piano if there is one on the stage.' That is what Katharine Cornell could do, strip a stage leaving the audience a little forlorn and eager for her return."

There is no trace of this woman in Gurney’s text. His fantasy is watered down, as though he were trying to make an honest woman out of Cornell. So he settled for something mediocre, which is no way to treat a gal, especially one of our glorious theatrical ancestors.

THE GRAND MANNER

By A. R. Gurney; directed by Mark Lamos

WITH: Kate Burton (Katharine Cornell), Boyd Gaines (Guthrie McClintic), Bobby Steggert (Pete) and Brenda Wehle (Gertrude Macy).

Sets by John Arnone; costumes by Ann Hould-Ward; lighting by Russell H. Champa; music and sound by John Gromada; stage manager, M. A. Howard; general manager, Adam Siegel; production manager, Jeff Hamlin. Presented by Lincoln Center Theater, under the direction of André Bishop and Bernard Gersten. At the Mitzi Newhouse Theater; telecharge.com. Through Aug. 1. Running time: 1 hour 30 minutes.

Nunsense

Mon, 21 Jun 2010 14:35:06 -0400

What a delightful piece of fluff this is and perfect, not only for us jaded New Yorkers, but for the Bridge and Tunnel crowd, who were in serious attendance last night. There are real Catholics who live on the other side of our rivers. I wondered where they were.

This production of Nunsense is a celebration of the 25th Anniversary of this show. I remember when it first appeared downtown at the Duplex. I never saw it then when it was practically right next door to my apartment. Now that I live in Harlem of COURSE I schlep down to the Village.

This is sort of one long vaudeville routine, but this one is safe for family viewing. The Little Sisters of Hoboken have just suffered a loss to the tune of 52 nuns falling over dead into their soup – a vichyssoise prepared by Sister Julia, Child of God. They were able to raise the enough money to bury them all, but at the last minute the Reverend Mother (Bonnie Lee) succumbed to desire and bought a plasma TV for the convent. Thus, four of the departed nuns remain above ground and frozen in the convent’s freezer. The purpose of the event we are watching is to raise the funds necessary to thaw the unfortunate quartet and get them into the ground before the health inspector discovers the stored goods and closes the convent down.

We are talking THIN material here folks. But that is not really the point. The point is that what might be light hearted entertainment, when delivered by a team of your regular garden variety actors, is downright hilarious when it is being delivered by a bunch of nuns wearing those old fashioned habits. Even the time of day is funny. And THAT is the rock bottom line on Nunsense, as well as the five other productions it has spawned: Nuns, unlike many some of us remember, in “the habit” of being funny. To judge from its track record (8,000 productions world wide, grosses of more than $500 million), this is one gamble that has paid off big time for its creator, Dan Goggin.

The assembled cast for this show range from seasoned Nunsense cast members – Bonnie Lee, Bambi Jones (Sister Mary Hubert) and Jeanne M. Tinker (Sister Amnesia) to newcomers Maria Montana (Sister Robert Anne), who is a dead ringer for Cherry Lane’s Artistic Director Angelina Fiordellisi, and Stephanie Wahl (Sister Mary Leo). These ladies range in size from diminutive to robust and possess vocal and comic talents that run the gamut as well. Individually they may be a tad unevenly matched, but together they are a force to reckon with.

Sister Amnesia, perhaps the most winning and winsome of the characters, is struggling with remembering who she is and almost anything else she can, or can’t, think of. Sister Robert Anne is from Canarsie, and all she wants, other than a few laughs while serving the Lord, is the chance to make a splash in a big way on stage, any stage. Sister Mary Hubert is the second in command and is busy figuring out how she can pray for the top job without sinning her tuchas off from the get go. Sister Mary Leo is the resident dancing novitiate and is busy memorizing the do’s and the do not’s and in general just trying to go with the flow. Heading up the merry band is the Reverend Mother who was brought up in the circus and has, therefore, the requisite training to manager her brood, with the exception of her occasional lapses into recreational drugs.

The upshot of the evening is that these ladies take entertaining us, with the hopes of a cash reward, very seriously. No moment is left idle, no joke unexamined, no harmony unsung, no plight un-prayed for. They have earned the right to be “Holier Than Thou, “ but they would rather tackle your soul with a few she-bops and a two-step.

This is a little vacation from the chaos that is going on out there in the world or between your ears. Nunsense is an invitation to hand over the wheel to these eager servants of the Lord and let them give you a couple of hours of silly, sentimental and sublime. No fuss, no muss, no complications. Just an entertainment with staying power that, you should pardon the expression, goes down easy. Just the way it’s been doing for 25 years.

NUNSENSE – Written and Directed by Dan Goggin

WITH Bambi Jones ( Sister Mary Hubert), Bonnie Lee (The Reverend Mother), Maria Montana (Sister Robert Anne), Jeanne M. Tinker (Sister Amnesia) and Stephanie Wahl (Sister Mary Leo)

Set Barry Axtell, Lighting Paul Miller, Music Director Leo P. Carusone, Orchestrations Michael Rice.

Scheduled through July 18, NUNSENSE will perform Tuesdays at 7 pm, Wednesdays through Fridays at 8 pm, Saturdays at 3 and 8 pm and Sundays at 3 pm. Tickets are $50/$45 and can be reserved by calling Telecharge at .212.2396200 or by visiting www.cherrylanetheatre.org.

Reflections of a Heart

Sat, 19 Jun 2010 12:02:19 -0400

For those who assume much responsibility, much is expected. Christopher G. Roberts has created monumental goals for himself and in some of them he has succeeded.

Roberts has worked on television and in the theatre both locally and internationally. He has been a dramatic teacher to schoolchildren. He has mounted a show Off Broadway with a large cast. This means he had to convince people to back his idea. His idea was an excellent one: Reflections of a Heart is the Story of Isaac C. Woodard who became a rallying point for the Civil Rights Movement in the late 1940's. Mr. Woodard, after his honorable discharge from the Army, was beaten and blinded by a Sherriff in South Carolina. This is one of those stories that has disappeared from our horizon when it shouldn’t have.

Where Mr. Roberts has not succeeded is in the artistic area of his current endeavor. Roberts is the writer, director and lead actor in this production. At none of these is he successful, and that is too bad.

At the core of this disappointing evening is the text itself that is filled with cliché's and facts that defy belief. After being brought in to the Bronx station for questioning in an assault case, Woodward reveals "The Story" to a cop who doesn't care - thus we have the flashbacks and the transformation of the cop at the climax. This makes the story about the cop, not the main character because the cop is the only one who changes.

There are other moments as well. When first coming out in public with his eyes bandaged, Woodward wears sunglasses. And perhaps the most egregious of all: when a white woman who witnessed his arrest comes to tell him of her organizing work on his behalf, she leans in and kisses him on the cheek. Sorry. Not happening in 1949.

There is a refreshing monologue by Gillian Glascoe as Woodard's mother and some interesting work by Mark Elmore as the Sheriff. But the rest of the cast was either not directed or just plain don’t' know what they are doing most of the time.

I don't know if Mr. Roberts was forced to take on the tri-fecta of responsibilities. The theatre can surprise you with people coming and going, and it's possible these responsibilities were thrust upon him. The upshot is that he multi-tasked for this production. And as the latest research shows that means a person does everything in a mediocre manner.

By not giving himself the chance to focus and bring in people with whom he could collaborate, Mr. Roberts did himself and the story about which he is passionate a disservice.

I hope he keeps his head up and returns with a production that is a collaboration in all the best ways possible.

REFLECTIONS OF A HEART written and Directed by Christopher G. Roberts.

WITH: Mary Ruth Baggot, Reginald L. Barnes, Gail Merzer Behrens, Chanel Carroll, Mark Ellmore, Kevin Green, Gillian Glasco, Jim Heaphy, Heather Massie, Jonathan Miles, Robert Spence, Michael Vincent, Christopher G. Roberts, Avery Pearson and David Wirth.

Design Jito Lee, Lighting Kayla Globe, Costume Sarah Cubbage

Presented by the Steppingstone Theatre Company through June 27 at The Clurman Theatre, Theatre Row, 410 West 42 Street. Tue & Wed 7pm,Thu - Sat 8pm, Mat: Sun 3pm. 212-279-4200

Order

Fri, 18 Jun 2010 11:56:12 -0400

What a more than pleasant surprise. This is a terrific production of what is mostly an excellent play.

Thomas Blander has a life and secrets and a surprise or two up his sleeve. In this spare but elegant production of Order he gets to show you everything you did or didn’t want to know. It is Graduate Level Show and Tell.

Thomas Blander (Ryan Tramont) is the most un-bland guy going, although his looks would tell you otherwise. This average white guy, married with no kids, recently a professor of philosophy at the local university, is a receptionist, sort of. He works in an unnamed office for Adam Jacobi (Mac Brydon) who is a fill-in-the-blank kind of maniac. He is a tyrant given to seizures of grandeur that don't amount to much unless you take them seriously. Tom takes them seriously. He also takes the voice he hears seriously. Bathug (Gabe Bettio) is part-man part-other who lives off the life force of Tom. He speaks in a voice no ne else can hear, not even Tom’s wife Maisey (Amanda Plant) or his therapist Dr. Fine (Brad Fryman).

Of late Tom's wife has noticed that he talks in his sleep, but that is nothing compared to his decision to leave a perfectly good job and purposefully place himself on the lowest rung of the job ladder. Tom is on a quest to prove that he can make a difference, that by his very principled presence he can affect his company, which will in turn affect the world and make it a better place in which to live. Maisey is ostracized and near the end of her rope. Dr. Fine thinks Tom is hearing his own voice, that he asks too many questions, and that he is not committed to getting better. In other words Tom is not committed to making Dr. Fine look good. Tom' s former University colleague Joe Davis (James Edward Becton) has moved on to a lucrative job in pharmaceuticals, selling products that no one needs. He has a job for Tom whenever Tom wants it, which he never does. Thus, Joe thinks Tom is in denial. Even the neighborhood homeless man (James Washington) has a bad opinion of Tom and harangues him out of dollar bills daily.

Tom Blander is having a bad life.

Until he sees Bathug. When the voice becomes a body, all bets are off. Withheld power is now the order of the day, and with Bathug at his side, Tom is unstoppable. More or less.

As Tom, Tramont is spot on. He juggles Tom's deep desire for order and reason with his fear of and subsequent submission to Bathug. He handles the transitions from victim to man-in-charge with clarity and a certain vitality that makes you never want to look away. The rest of the cast is crisp and on target 99% of the time. There are moments when Brydon and Fryman leap off the Richter Scale, but these are few and fleeting.

Pendleton's hand is evident here in the flow of the play, which has been molded to honor Christopher Boal’s text, which is delicious. The first half of the play is particularly intriguing as the layers of Tom's unhappy life are revealed one at a time. The dialogue is masterful, and the actors illuminate the story with a light but confident style. They are serving the text, each one of them, and in doing so they shine.

The second half of the play doesn't fair as well as the first. Once Tom has transitioned from victim to take-no-prisoners-victor Christopher Boal loses the scent. The very clear trail he has laid out heads into the underbrush and is barely heard from again. This is disappointing, but we are able to pull the pieces together because of the way in which Pendleton guides his cast (on a set meant for another play). So in the end we pretty much end up where we are supposed to be: watching Tom face his trail of breadcrumbs, so perfectly placed that they come close to reaching out and touching you in your seat.

You leave the theatre fascinated by Tom's story and a trifle wary of your own. Not scared, but not complacent either. This play tunes up the listening button of your life.

Nicely, nicely, Johnson.

ORDER by Chritopher Boal, Directed by Austin Pendleton

The production features James Edward Becton (Joe Davis)*, Gabe Bettio (Bathug), Mac Brydon (Adam Jacobi), Brad Fryman*, William Laney (Detective Arlo), Amanda Plant (MaisyBlander), Ryan Tramont (Tom Blander) and James Washington (Homeless Man).

Set by Ann Bartek, Lights by Isabella Bird, Costumes by Mark Richard Caswell,

Oberon Theatre Ensemble is pleased to present ORDER in a 4-week limited engagement at the Kirk Theatre at Theatre Row (410 W 42nd St). Performances begin Thursday, June 3rd and continue through Saturday, July 3. Tickets are #25.00 and $12.50 students/seniors. For reservations, please call 212-279-4200 or visit www.ticketcentral.com to purchase online. Tickets are also available at Theatre Row’s box office open from 12pm – 8pm.

For more information visit: www.OberonTheatre.org

When We Go Upon The Sea

Fri, 18 Jun 2010 11:21:18 -0400

Oh bless you, Mr. Blessing. I can't recall when I have enjoyed myself more at a production about which I hadn't a clue as to what the heck was going on. I can't tell you what this show is about, but I can sure tell you to go see it for yourselves because you will have a great time.

This is, in a teeny tiny nutshell, is the "what if" dream of all us sensible folk. What if George W. Bush was brought to trial in The Hague for Crimes Against Humanity? Blessing goes one step further: what if Bush spent his last night before turning himself in at a hotel, sans family, body guards and Secret Service, with only a Concierge and his companion? And what if these two attendants had, or appeared to have, only the best interests of this hotel guest at heart? How long would it take for Dubya to unravel?

As it turns out, not long at all. The unravel, however, is so lacking in cliché as to be nearly embarrassing. There was a lot of "why didn't I think of THAT?" going through my mind as this threesome geared up for take-off. Blessing explores not only the Bush brain, but the power of owning the Seas, the relevance of Dutch history, permission, persuasion, and the difference between love and fear – an a whole lot more.

Where I kept getting bumped off the hay wagon was when I tried to connect the moments as I went along. I finally gave up trying and had a better time because of it. One reason was because this is a team of cracker-jack actors. Conan McCarty (in spite of being the wrong height – George Bush is 6" but looks a lot shorter because of his short arms. Before you ask: Clinton 6'2". Obama 6'1".) captures the core of Dubya without making him a parody. This Bush is more human than any Bush I ever saw, and thereby all the more disturbing. McCarty is brilliant at blending the comedy with the horrific. As Piet, (pronounced Pete) Peter Schmitz is near perfect both in maintaining a Dutch accent and an elegant demeanor that makes him interested but not concerned in the events that he oversees. As Anna-Lisa, Kim Carson combines intelligence and sensuality to create a woman who has escaped one web only to climb willingly into another.

The facts are that these three spend a long night together and George is duly dispatched to his court date, after which our couple in residence settles in to wait for the next person who is in need of their ministrations.

This is a wild and complicated story told as simply as possible. There is a touch of Charles Mee here, some Sarah Ruhl, and a little Beckett. It is a show that invites you to fasten your seatbelts and leaves the station before you have everything battened down. As a result you spend the ride slightly off balance but enjoying the scenery and the company nonetheless. It's a terrific evening.

This is yet another feather in the cap of 59E59, which continues to create festival after festival and bring to New York unique productions that deserve to be seen. Congratulations all around.

WHEN WE GO UPON THE SEA by Lee Blessing, Directed by Paul Meshejian

WITH Kim Carson (Anna-Lisa), Conan McCarty (George) and Peter Schmitz (Piet)

Presented by Interact Theatre Company at 59E59 Theaters, Elysabeth Kleinhans, artistic director; Peter Tear, executive producer. At the 59E59 Theaters, 59 East 59th Street, Manhattan; Through July 3rd., Tues-Wd 7:15, Thurs-Fri 8:15, Saturday 2:15 and 8:15, Sun 3:15. Running time: 1 hour 25 minutes. Ticket Price: $35 Ticket Information: Ticket Central: 212-279-4200; http://www.ticketcentral.com

Freed

Thu, 17 Jun 2010 16:07:00 -0400

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Feinstein at Feinstein’s “Cool Swing”

Wed, 16 Jun 2010 12:43:38 -0400

So. Up front I will say that I don’t watch American Idol. I thought American Idiot was loud and boring. I never liked the kind of rock where I couldn’t understand the words. I listen to Jonathan Schwartz. I saw Alberta Hunter at the Cookery. I saw Mabel Mercer at Cleo’s back in the 1980’s. Every time I go to Josephina’s I pass by the spot where she sat in her wing chair and sang. It is as close to an omage as I can get.

It’s just the way I am wired. I like the standards. And from Michael Feinstein’s point of view I am not alone. And you have to pay attention when Feinstein speaks. I mean, honestly, the guy created a room where singers come to sing songs that are really poetry put to music. In New York – can you imagine? Just like the olden days…. And now he is the Artistic Director of the Carmel Performing Arts Center in Indiana because he knows that the fly-over states are filled with passion and talent – he is a Ohio Boy, after all.

So it is no wonder that his show Cool Swing is filled with the past music that is still relevant because it is just so damn good. Feinstein knows his history as well, so not only do we get the tidbits (George Gershwin died at 38; Duke Ellington wrote a musical that lasted 3 days, and Cole Porter’s 1935 score for Jubilee got terrible reviews. Featured in that score was It Was Just One of Those Things.)

There were several moments last night when Feinstein lifted off. There is a place he often goes when he is singing that is near the solar system of people like Bill Irwin or Alberta Hunter. All good performers have those places, and Feinstein is no exception. In particular I Wish I Didn’t Love You So, and The Way You Look Tonight were revelatory. Equally fine are the fine fine musicians onstage - music director John Oddo on piano, David Finck on bass, Dave Ratajczak on drums, Aaron Heick on reeds and Tony Kadleck on trumpet. This week also features Andy Stein – a regular on Prairie Home Companion (yes I also listen to that thank you) – whose violin has a voice all her own, and when she sings it is mesmerizing.

For a special gift, and one that is typical of Feinstein’s quest to include everyone within sight, we were treated to two performers at opposite ends of their life journey. Annie Yokum, age 17 and winner of a contest that Feinstein created out there in central America, all lovely in turquoise, performed What Did I Have That I Don’t Have from On A Clear Day You Can See Forever (Music: Burton Lane, Lyrics: Alan Jay Lerner). This is a song for a woman a touch older than Ms. Yokum – but never mind all that. Yokum played it for all of her 17 years worth and brought the lyrics home to that world where who you pass in the hall at high school and whether or not he looks at you as you pass each other is critical. C-r-i-t-c-a-l. We have all been there, and Yokum made us remember. Bravo.

The other performer was Alan Bergman, of Bergman and Bergman, lyricists whose partnership began over 50 years ago whose collaborators have included Michel Legrand and Marvin Hamlisch among many others. Bergman sang The Way We Were, for which he and his wife Marilyn wrote the lyrics. This is normally a song for a person a touch younger than Bergman, but in his hands it became a conduit for all of us. The floodgates opened and you could nearly see the memories that swirled about the room. Brilliant.

What an extraordinary combination of performers. And brought into being because Michael Feinstein is that kind of a guy. He cares enough to share the very best.

And maybe this is just me, because there is only so much sincerity I can take before I break out in hives, but I suspect that underneath all that genuine sincerity and generosity is a scamp who only occasionally comes out to play. I wouldn’t mind seeing a little more of that guy, just as I wouldn’t mind seeing Feinstein sing a love song to a man. Love is love and this guy has it in spades. Isn’t it time we allowed performers to sing their hearts out in all the ways they feel it? This IS New York. If not here, where?

All in all, it’s a pretty swell night.

FEINSTEIN'S AT LOEWS REGENCY will present MICHAEL FEINSTEIN in “Cool Swing” Tuesday through Thursday at 8:30 PM and Friday and Saturday evenings at 8:00 PM and 10:30 PM. All shows have a $95.00 cover with $150.00 premium seats and $250 up front seats. There is an additional $40.00 food and beverage minimum. For all shows there are a select amount of seats based on availability with a $40 cover charge and no food/beverage minimum. Jackets are suggested but not required. FEINSTEIN'S AT LOEWS REGENCY is located at 540 Park Avenue at 61st Street in New York City. For ticket reservations and club information, please call (212) 339-4095 or visit us online at feinsteinsatloewsregency·com and TicketWeb.com.