Points to make after seeing Boop! (World Premiere at the CIBC Theatre in Chicago.)
1. Can we agree that disliking a sledge-hammer heavy-handed show about female empowerment is about disliking the show, not disliking female empowerment?
2. The concept has a problem.
Bad musical: Nick and Nora. When Dashiell Hammett wrote The Thin Man, it was innovative - a tough detective who was happily married to a wealthy wife. Never argued; they bantered, with an occasional dip into disagreement. Let's do a musical about their marital problems.
Bad musical: The Addams Family. The happiest, most well-adjusted family in TV/movie history. Let's do a musical about how dysfunctional they are; Gomez is henpecked and Morticia is a paranoid bitch. That'll be fun.
And... Boop! The cartoon symbol of fun-loving, enthusiastic Pre-Code sexuality. Let's do a musical where she is Unfulfilled and must become the Role Model of Female Empowerment for All Women Everywhere.
Predicate the script on the conceit that the square peg is just the right fit for the round hole. Feh.
3. The cast is frickin' amazing and marvelous. David Foster's music is the best thing about the show. Susan Birkenhead's lyrics - not so much.
4. Jasmine Amy Rogers as Betty. So wonderful. She deserves a better show.
5. The art direction/projected scenery is outstanding. Top-notch throughout.
6. This a musical comedy based on a slapstick cartoon series, and there is not one big laugh in the show. Lots of little ones. And perhaps cut a power ballad or two and put maybe one funny song into a musical comedy.
7. There are Max Fleischer touches that are spot-on and brilliant, most of them at the opening of the show, but also during a love song in act two that I won't spoil here.
8. Book by Bob Martin. His book for The Drowsy Chaperone completely makes fun of itself for disregarding basic play structure, and it's one of my favorite musicals. But... Bob Martin makes fun of what he actually can't do. The story-building here is very sloppy. Major plot points rear their unattractive heads in Act II. That's too late. We're supposed to care about a mayoral race between two minor characters that doesn't rev up until Act II; so we don't care. There is a powerhouse number that ends Act I. It's just a powerhouse number; there is no crisis (Guys and Dolls), suspense buildup (A Little Night Music) or note of false triumph to be undercut later (The Producers) to make the audience want to see what happens after intermission.
9. Jerry Mitchell's choreography is brilliant, even the part he stole sampled from The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. involving tripling the number of chorus girls.
10. I knew we were in trouble when Betty's companions weren't the Pre-Code Bimbo and Koko, but Code-Era Grampy and Pudgy (a well done marionette.) Stephen DeRosa's Grampy sounded exactly like Joey D'Auria as Bozo.
11. Despite having the best song in the show (A Case for Love), Faith Prince basically has a glorified cameo role.
12. There is a LOT of hard-working talent up there, and they deserved the standing ovation they got. The show itself is ultimately unsatisfying.
Boop! runs November 19 - December 24 at the CIBC Theatre, 18 W Monroe St, Chicago, IL 60603. For tickets go here: Broadway in Chicago.
One of my best friends in the 80s/90s was a dominatrix/stripper
named Louise. We met through theater;
she was one of the most dedicated theater people I’ve ever met. I worked as her substitute
driver for two weekends and made enough money to visit California. So, while not part of the lifestyle, I have
some first-hand knowledge of the environment.
I turned down a fulltime job offer because (A) I didn’t want to work for
the mob and (B) after six to eight hours of bachelor parties, I didn’t want to
be a guy anymore. Guys are assholes.
Written by and starring Lorrisa Julianus, The
Misadventures of Mistress Maneater gets everything right in the first
five minutes – the contempt of passersby, venomous former classmates, the (erroneous)
assumption of intermingled genitalia and the fact that a tight latex outfit
will go right up your ass-crack.
Julianus is luminous as Ava, a reluctant dominatrix contracted
to frame Father Radovan Marcovic (Mickey O’Sullivan), a Serbian-born priest in
a small Illinois town. There are Russian
gangsters, duplicitous politicians and a best friend who may or may not be
a treacherous bastard. The acting
throughout is uniformly excellent, especially O’Sullivan and really especially
Julianus. Other standouts are Shannon Brown
as the flamboyant Gabe, Adam Christopher as the evil Boris and Dave Lichty as
the slimy Mayor.
Highlights include the opening sequence – a day in the life
of a dominatrix, Ava’s car chase rescue of somebody important, the ultimate fate of Hubert and a burning
building that is pretty impressive for an indie release.
C.J. Julianus’ direction is adept, and the pacing
is tight. It is rarely obvious that it
is an independent production. Very nicely
done.
Are there things I didn’t like? Of course. There is a moment near the end that I thought didn’t
make sense (a thug obeying somebody weaker than himself), but on further consideration,
it makes sense that his boss has crossed a personal moral line and the thug is
fine with obliging the seeker. But there
is a flaw in the script that probably couldn’t have been helped. The Revelations at the top of act three drag
the film almost to a halt, even with the horrifying flashback. Too wordy for that point in the film. But the structure of the script demands that
they be there, so I don’t really know how I would fix that. Some On the Nose dialogue: the lectures about
female subjugation are unnecessary. They
are delivered at moments of female triumph, and they don’t need to be
said. We get it without the lecturing. But these flaws are not deal-breakers. The film is available on Amazon Prime Video as of October 30, 2020.
If you like well done indie films, check out The
Misadventures of Mistress Maneater.
Mickey O’Sullivan gives a brilliant performance, and Lorrisa Julianus’
work is a star maker.
Sweet Charity is not a great
musical.But it is an entertaining
musical.The story concerns Charity Hope
Valentine, a dance hall hostess (as opposed to being the prostitute of the source
material) in 1966 Manhattan, and her search for love in the big, mean
city.Book by Neil Simon, music by Cy
Coleman, lyrics by Dorothy Fields.
There are a couple of major problems.First, is the ending – which I won’t
reveal.It’s logical, it makes perfect
dramatic sense, in its time it was completely unexpected while still feeling
inevitable… and I hate it.Second, about
half the songs are great; the other half are merely competent.The merely competent songs are the ones where
the only reason to have them in the show is, “We need a song here…I think.”If They Could See Me Now is a perfect expression of Charity’s
joy at having an opulent night out with a movie star.But when Charity actually gets a marriage
proposal, which should be an even bigger deal for her, I’m a Brass Band only packs
about half the punch of If They Could See Me Now. And it's a problem with the material, not the execution.
That being the case, should you see Marriott Theatre’s
production of Sweet Charity? Hell, yes. It’s a
case of the whole being greater than the sum of its parts.
Alex Sanchez’s direction and choreography are absolutely
spot-on brilliant. As with any Bob Fosse
musical, the potential problem for a director lies in not being Bob Fosse. There’s a dictation of style that you must acknowledge,
without being a copycat. Sanchez does a
wonderful job with the choreography, and is an expert at staging the comedy. Simon’s book is one where the comedy dies if you’re
polite about it. You have to go all
out. Sanchez does that, and it works
beautifully.
As Charity, Anne Horak’s acting, singing and dancing are all
top-notch.She completely overcomes the
issue that physically, she’s wrong for the part.I didn’t believe that a gorgeous blonde in
1966 New York would be having her problems.The role works best with a gamin.But Horak triumphs.By the end of
the first act, you’re in love with her.She is completely moving and engaging.
It’s a shame that Alex Goodrich as the neurotic Oscar
Lindquist doesn’t appear until Act I is almost over, because he takes the
comedy and rachets it up to a whole other level.When I direct comedy, the biggest problem is
getting actors to go as big as they need to be.They think it’s overacting; but it isn’t supposed to be real – it needs
to appear real to the people in the back row.Goodrich is an expert at going extraordinarily
big, getting huge laughs and keeping it believable.
So – the physical casting issue I had with Anne Horak (but
she won me over)?Same issue but different
results with as Kenny Ingram as Daddy Brubeck, singing The Rhythm of Life.Phenomenally talented man; wrong for the
part.His voice is too high.(A) The pitch of the voice affected the
clarity of the words, which come fast and furious.(B) The role requires a voice that can win
over a crowd.Ingram has a great voice,
but it’s a violin, not a trumpet.
Natonia Monét and Dani Spieler are fun as Charity’s pals Helene
and Nickie; Adam Jacobs is charming as the suave but rather hapless movie star
Vittorio and Alexandra Polkovic is great as his insecure bombshell girlfriend.
One of the truisms for ensemble members is this: give it
your all, because somebody’s going to
looking at you at all times.And this
ensemble gives it their all.However,
some people have more to give. Kyra Sorce is very funny as a YMCA receptionist, but I started paying attention much earlier: in Hey, Big Spender, Sorce
is one of the dance hall girls.While beckoning
to the off-stage men in the song, Sorce has this look of, “I really want to dance with you but I
might have a knife and it’d be fun to use it but don’t think about that – let’s
dance!”It’s this insane look.And later, she
has a brief sideways-lower-lip expression that I first saw in Frankenhooker
(also about a troubled Manhattan girl with promiscuity issues.)Her verbal timing in the YMCA scene is pitch-perfect.In short, this girl needs
to be cast in a major musical-comedy
role.Soon. (She's the one in the middle; short black hair.)
Patti Garwood and her orchestra do a fantastic job with the
music. Mieka van der Ploeg’s costumes
are period perfect.
To reiterate – Sweet Charity is not the greatest musical
of all time.But this is an amazing
production where every aspect is first rate.Spend the money.Go see it.
Sweet Charity runs at the Marriott Theatre, Ten Marriott Drive,
Lincolnshire, IL60069.For tickets and information:
(NOTE: Blogger.com is not letting me upload publicity photos right now. I'll try again later.)
At
a theatre where I worked, there was a flat with graffiti on the back. It said, “Life is a cabaret – long, boring
and full of Nazis.” Katie Spelman’s
production at the Paramount contradicts two of those items.
At
the end of Willkommen, the opening number of Cabaret, you pretty much
sit there slack-jawed and ready to go home, thinking, “Okay, I got my money’s
worth.”It wasn’t just the best Willkommen
I’ve ever seen, it’s one of the best stagings of an opening number I’ve ever
seen; and this is the fifth or sixth Cabaret I’ve sat through.It begins with the nominal hero, Cliff,
starting to type out his story, which is a nice bookend placed by Spelman,
whose work throughout is riveting, vital and it moves.The wrap-around for If
You Could See Her is jolting.I
can’t say enough about her work here.Just stunning.
When
casting Fraulein Schneider and Herr Schultz, precedence is usually given to
acting; if they can sing, it’s icing on the cake.This cake is fully frosted.Hollis Resnick and Ron E. Rains both have
beautiful voices, and play the most sympathetic characters in the show, an
advantage they seize and run with.Both
actors are brilliant and heartbreaking.
Kelly
Felthous is an excellent Sally Bowles.She’s funny, talented and lovable (which is crucial when playing a
shallow character; more on that in a separate post.)And her casting gets around the Tricky Part: Sally is working in a
sleazy nightclub because she’s not all that good.Felthous’ voice quality is quirky without
being bad – she’s an amazing performer.She
doesn’t have a stereotypical “showgirl” body, but she’s tremendously sexy.Her performance works.
As
Cliff Bradshaw, Garrett Lutz is saddled with one of the most impossible
“heroes” in theatre.The original
non-musical version was called I Am a Camera – the character was
mainly an observer; to say Cliff is not proactive is like saying Donald Trump
is unknowledgeable.A vast
understatement.Anything unsatisfying
about Cliff is on Joe Masteroff’s (the librettist) shoulders, not Lutz’s.Lutz is (sorry if this description gets
tedious) an excellent performer.Overqualified for the role.He
deserves more.
The
Emcee is generally played as and made up to be androgynous.And you always know it’s a Guy in Dainty
Makeup.But when I saw a captionless
photo of Joseph Anthony Byrd, I thought, “Wow.A female Emcee.That’s
interesting.”And I still thought it during Willkommen.It wasn’t until Byrd did a song with his suit coat off that I saw his arm muscles and realized how well everybody here did
their jobs.Byrd is an outstanding
Emcee.Powerful singer and dancer.And I promise I’ll tone down the raving now.
Whoops.
Forgot that the Goddess Meghan Murphy is in this.You’re in for more raving.Fraulein Kost the hooker is usually a very
minor supporting part that you remember (if you remember her at all) under the
heading of, “Okay… yeah… she was good.”Spelman wasn’t satisfied with that and cast Kost as a towering force of
nature.Murphy dominates every scene she
has, and I wish to god somebody would cast her in Gypsy.I’ve seen her in several shows and, frankly,
catching her name on the cast list for this was what tipped the decision about
buying tickets.
Brandon
Springman as Ernst Ludwig was great.And
there was a very interesting acting choice near the end.During Cliff’s confrontation with Ernst, the
actor usually plays Ludwig as clueless regarding Cliff’s change of heart.Here, Springman builds to it not as, “But
Cliff, I’m your friend!” so much as a hard, “I’m your friend, motherfucker – and you’d better remember that.”Very nicely done.
Ensemble
is one of the best I’ve ever seen.I
wish I had something bad to say about
the performances, to make this more interesting; but I don’t and I’ll have to live
with that.
Set,
orchestra, everything else – all top notch.
Was
there anything I didn’t like?Yes.There was something I hated.Passionately.And you’ll find
that discussion here, since it involves spoilers: Don't Give Iago a Puppy
However,
for those of you who don’t have that problem, this is the best production of Cabaret
you’re ever going to see. Which is par
for the Paramount these days. Actually, I don't think I raved quite enough about Kelly Felthous. Really outstanding. My wife
and I saw the Broadway production with Alan Cumming.Spelman’s production is ten times
better.Plus, Meghan Murphy.
Cabaret
runs through March 7 at the Paramount Theatre in Aurora.Info here:
SPOILER ALERT:
Do not read this if you are unfamiliar with Cabaret and how it ends. ALSO: Blogger.com is not letting me upload photos right now. I'll try again later.
“Don’t
give Iago a puppy” is my phrase whenever directors/actors want to “humanize” not-so-nice
characters by making them “sympathetic.”This never means Enhancing the Bouquet of the Wine.It means cutting 100 Proof Vodka with
Water.The most famous example is One
Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and trying to find the Humanity in Nurse
Ratched.Which would be great if her
purpose in the show wasn’t to be the frickin’ embodiment of soulless
inhumanity.
Playing
unsympathetic characters does NOT mean finding something sympathetic about
them.It means finding something
empathetic about them.Find something you
like about the character’s evil; don’t force something “nice” on them because you’re
uncomfortable. That’s why those parts
are fun.Iago in Othello is absolutely horrible.He’s also quick-witted and funny, which makes
him palatable to the audience without ever letting them forget he’s a villain.
One
of the greatest tightrope walkers on TV these days is Robin Lord Taylor, who
plays the Penguin on Gotham.You always empathize with him, but you’d
never want to spend time with him, because you’d most likely end up dead.He doesn’t lose sight of the villainy.If you want to cuddle with the leads in Cabaret
– you’re doing it wrong.
In
the movie version of Chicago, they had Fred Casely slap
Roxie around before she shoots him.Nooooooo.She shoots him because
she’s a vapid, shallow idiot – which is why someone tremendously likable has to
play her.You have to like Roxie in
spite of what she does, not because she’s a Misguided Innocent.Because the point of the show is that
likability and sexiness is what enables monsters to use murders to become
celebrities.The show is an indictment of us for being shallow enough to make those
people famous.
Which
brings us to Cabaret at the Paramount.Jesus.The performers are
brilliant.But the original intent of Cabaret
was a similar indictment of the audience.It’s about how hedonistic apathy allowed the Nazis to come to power in
Germany without much of a fight.It’s
telling us, “Hey, maybe you want to watch out for that quality in yourselves,
or you might end up with an orange monster for a leader.”To that end, there are deep characters
(Schneider and Schultz), not so deep characters (Cliff and Sally) and deeply
shallow characters (the Emcee).The
learning curve here goes to Cliff.Trying to give them all the same depth subverts the story.
Starting
with (I believe) the hideous Roundabout production, every director wants to
Deepen Sally.Cut the 100 proof
vodka.She is a twitchy emotional wreck
through most of Act II, culminating in a final number, Cabaret, which is now
always presented as Rose’s Turn, a mental breakdown, packaged for your convenience.And it drives me fuckin’ bat-shit crazy.
Sally
is a strong female character.A survivor.She is far stronger than Cliff (not in competition with him for Neurotic of the
Year), and it is his discovery of that in the end which wrecks him.The song Cabaret is not a nervous breakdown
of a woman Just Realizing How Horrible Everything Is.It is the triumphant
11:00 number of a tremendously strong woman making the choice to remain shallow
because that’s how she survives.She is
exactly the same as Fraulein Schneider.Do whatever you need to do to live.Vomiting out “long pent-up emotions” is not tragic.Ash-canning those emotions – in happy song –
is blood-chilling.And extremely tragic.
And
let's not get started on the Emcee.
No.Let’s.
In
the Paramount production, the Emcee – and again, the performer is great – Sees
All the Horror as it builds around him and is Appalled & Frightened.
Jesus
H. Tapdancing Christ.The Emcee is the villain.He’s the BAD GUY.He is the personification of gleeful
political apathy.And aside from the ineffective
I Don’t
Care Much, here’s where that hurts most: at the end of If You Could See Her (the
gorilla dance), there wasn’t a shocked silence, there was applause, even though
Herr Schultz had a moment at the end which should have quelled the clapping. And here’s why that happened: nobody believed that
this Warm, Human Emcee would say such a vicious thing. They just didn't buy it. The purpose of that number is to shock the audience
with the awareness of the horror they’ve been laughing at. If we don’t believe that the Emcee is uncaring, there’s no shock.
Don’t
take my word for it.Watch Alan Cumming
and Joel Grey performing Willkommen. Go here: Dueling Emcees. The crowd enjoys Cumming.But they go bat-shit for Joel Grey.Alan Cumming had Layers.Joel Grey was an Icon.He is possibly the most technical, cold
performer in musical history, which is why he made a lousy Amos Hart in Chicago.But Grey was the perfect Emcee.
The
Emcee is not the Lone Observer.He’s the
fucking problem.He’s the Darth Vader of Cabaret; and Princess
Leia (Sally) gleefully ends up on the Dark Side. That’s the tragedy: societal decay, not one Poor
Misunderstood singing waif.
Trying
to care about these characters as sympathetic subverts the creators’ intent –
not a tearful character study, but a warning to the audience not to be like
those people.
The Nazis are not the villains in Cabaret. The villains are the people who won't stop partying long enough to try and stop them.
Pericles by William Shakespeare, directed by Eric Tucker. If you are fond of gentle, reasonable productions, displayed with grace and a great show of camouflaging its theatricality… stay the hell away from Pericles. I’ve never seen any other production so determined to shout in your face, “Hey! This is theatre!!! How about that?!”
And I loved it.
Eric Tucker is obviously a student of Douglas Adams, who wrote about improbability in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy: “If you have a problem… such as for instance a nineteen stone [cultural slur edited] in pyjamas trying to beat you into a pulp, the trick is to use this problem to solve itself. If you can trip or throw or deflect [cultural slur edited] as he hurtles towards you, then the fact that he weighs nineteen stone quickly becomes his worry instead of yours.”
So how to present Pericles with some sort of decorum while dealing with its constantly changing locales, cast of thousands and joyous implausibilities? You don’t. Embrace the madness, and it will become your friend. Flaunt it like the boobs of a drunk woman trying to collect Mardi Gras beads.
You have a cast list of dozens. You’ll never be able to pay that many actors. Fuck it – we’ll do it with ten people playing all the roles. Women playing men? Men playing women? Who cares? Just get on the goddamn stage.
Pericles exists in a Neverland where Pericles and his court are costumed and set in your standard Shakespeare production. But to differentiate between all the places Pericles visits, we find American southern sharecroppers, Russian spies, a New York brothel and a British kingdom with fishermen bearing the heaviest Scottish accents this side of Tim the Enchanter. The narrator’s part is split among all ten actors, as if they are doing children’s theater… if part of a children’s show is set in a whorehouse.
Oh god… how do we age Pericles (Juan Rivera Lebron) for the final third of the show? Slap some lines on his face? Large gray wig? Nope. Split the part in two and have James Ridge play the older Pericles – after he’s through playing a woman in a housecoat (the Bawd).
There is so much theatre magic happening here that I don’t want to spoil it for you; so I’ll limit it to two examples.
1. How to show Marina aging from Baby to Fourteen? The narrator cradles a rolled-up comforter (playing the role of Baby Marina), describing Marina’s childhood. As the actress playing Marina steps forward, the narrator flips open the comforter and places it on Marina’s shoulders. Voila. Here’s Marina.
2. The jousting tournament. This was amazing, as the cast played not only the jousters but the audience watching them from the royal box. Kudos to Cristina Panfilia (later to play Marina), whose hypermacho display got applause from the audience.
And with all that goofiness, the final reconciliation was heart-wrenching.
The cast was versatile and amazing. Out of all the plays we saw that weekend, this truly was an ensemble, so I’m not going to single them out. Cher Desiree Alvarez, Tracy Michelle Arnold, David Daniel, Gavin Lawrence, Juan Rivera Lebron, Cristina Panfilio, Cage Sebastian Pierre, James Ridge, Andrea San Miguel and Marcus Truschinski were all brilliant.
Truth in advertising – due entirely to my own stupidity, we missed the first two scenes in the show. The punishment: the Antiochus scene is my favorite scene in the script and I missed it. I really wanted to see what they did with that, since I always envision Antiochus being played with the venomous yet patient exasperation of Reg in Monty Python’s Life of Brian.
“But we’re going back again in a couple of weeks!” – Groucho Marx (Animal Crackers)
Margie wants to see The Three Sisters, and we’re seeing Pericles again that night. Because that’s how good it was.
(I'm ending all three current reviews with this, as it is an important point.)
One thing that aids APT in presenting 2½-to-3 hour shows is the effort involved in getting there. From DuPage County, Illinois, it’s a long drive, followed by a half mile uphill walk to get to the theatre. (Shuttles are available.) After all that work, you really don’t want to turn right around and go home after 1½ hours. You go there expecting to be grandly entertained for an entire evening. And your expectations are grandly fulfilled.
If you love classical theater, you need to go to American Players Theatre.
If you want to love full out classical theater, but have only seen abridgements or bad productions, you need to give APT a shot, because you will be converted.
If you hate classical theater… go away.
***********************************
“Pericles” by William Shakespeare. Directed by Eric Tucker.
When: Through September 29
Where: American Players Theatre, 5950 Golf Course Road, Spring Green, Wisconsin, 53588
Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond
Rostand, adapted and directed by James DeVita.
A wildly romantic tragicomedy, Cyrano de Bergerac is a
swashbuckling epic, brought to vivid life by American Players Theatre.
Here’s the problem. I loveCyrano
de Bergerac. For mixing comedy,
tragedy, romance and some more comedy, you can’t beat this script. So I’m going to be pickier than I am
normally. When my wife and I saw Moon
Over Buffalo on Broadway, there was a line about how brilliant a
director the lead character is – “He staged Cyrano de Bergerac with
five people.” I was the only one in the
house who laughed. Really loud. (And more on this type of staging when I
review Pericles.)
Cyrano de Bergerac is the
story of a gallant, eloquent but homely French soldier, deeply in love with his cousin Roxanne. She, in turn, falls
for a handsome but empty headed soldier and Cyrano is determined that she shall
live happily ever after, no matter what the cost to himself.
James Ridge is a fabulous
Cyrano. Charming, verbose, gallant and
lonely, Cyrano is an actor’s dream role and Ridge justifies the dream.
David Daniel, who was in all
three shows we saw that weekend, was excellent as Cyrano’s Comedy Relief buddy,
Ragueneau, seemingly an obtuse boob, whose obtuseness is actually conscious and
kind.
As Christian (Roxanne’s
heartthrob), Danny Martinez is terrific as a young man, not the brightest bulb
in the marquee, who eventually tires of not being able to speak for himself.
Laura Rook is great as Roxanne, a
beautiful girl who is also quick-witted and spunky.
John Taylor Phillips ruled as the treacherous, pompous DeGuiche -- who might
A large cast, terrific set &
costumes, a fast but reasonable pace from the director, all go to provide
(typically for APT) an entrancing evening of theater.
Now… what didn’t I like? Three things.
1. Cyrano de Bergerac is a
swashbuckler with only one real swordfight; and it was adequate. No great shakes. But I get it.
With actors who are memorizing two or three incredibly verbose shows per
year, there’s no time to go all The Princess Bride on its ass. Still… eh.
2. The Orange Girl scene. Played rather more prosaically than
usual. Cyrano has given away all his
money in a Grand Gesture, and an Orange Girl (think Popcorn Vendor at a movie
theater) offers him some food. He makes
yet another Grand Gesture, and the girl goes away with stars in her eyes. But not here.
Not much was made of the moment, and the lines were cut that indicated
that Cyrano could indeed win any girl he chose, if he only believed in
himself. Again, I get why this
happened. The idea is to increase the
odds against Cyrano’s chances of success by adopting his own viewpoint about
those odds. I just like it when
the audience thinks better of Cyrano than he does of himself.
3. This one I don’t get. American Players Theatre, in a bowl at the
top of a hill, has excellent acoustics. The actors aren’t usually miked, and you can
hear every word. Usually. For some reason, after being clear as a bell
for most of the night, the actors in the final act became Very Quiet and I had
to strain to hear them. Especially the
nuns who are there to bring us up to speed on what’s been happening since all
hell broke loose 15 years earlier. It’s
important exposition and I heard very little of it.
BUT… Cyrano de Bergerac is a
remarkable epic achievement. Required
viewing. Go see it.
(I'm ending all three current reviews with this, as it is an important point.)
One thing that aids APT in
presenting 2½-to-3 hour shows is the effort
involved in getting there. From DuPage
County, Illinois, it’s a long drive, followed by a half mile uphill walk to get
to the theatre. (Shuttles are
available.) After all that work, you
really don’t want to turn right around and go home after 1½ hours. You go there expecting to be grandly
entertained for an entire evening. And
your expectations are grandly fulfilled.
If
you love classical theater, you need to go to American Players Theatre.
If
you want to love full out classical
theater, but have only seen abridgements or bad productions, you need to give
APT a shot, because you will be converted.
If
you hate classical theater… go away.
***********************************
“Cyrano
de Bergerac” by Edmond Rostand. Adapated and directed by James DiVita.
When: Through October 6
Where: American Players Theatre, 5950 Golf Course Road, Spring Green,
Wisconsin, 53588
A Flea in Her Ear by Georges
Feydeau, adapted and directed by David Frank. A wild sex farce with nebbish
husbands, neurotic wives, sensible friends given wrong information, a befuddled
look-alike, a jealous husband with a gun and a young man with a hilarious
speech impediment. And if the theater
doesn’t apologize for that, why should I?
At least they didn’t use the phrase “harelip” in this adaptation.
In the best farces – the ones
that resonate – the audience has somebody to root for. Lend Me a Tenor: Max and Tito are
both extremely sympathetic. Max (A)
wants to be an opera singer and (B) is in semi-unrequited love. Tito (A) just needs a rest and (B) is very
generous in encouraging Max. A
Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum: Pseudolus, a Sgt.
Bilko-like con man, is a slave who will do anything
to be free. Even if the characters have
some less than sterling qualities, we want them to achieve their goals.
As a director, I much prefer
these farces to anything by Ray Cooney, who writes about assholes and dimwits
who fully deserve whatever they get. If
you get the audience to like your
characters, you don’t have to work as hard to get the laughs. It’s still mind-bendingly hard work, but you’re
no longer adding to your burden.
The “Yes. Thank you!” moment in David Frank’s production of A
Flea in Her Ear at American Players Theatre comes when stuffy insurance
executive Chandebise, recipient of an Anonymous Love Letter (sent as a trap by
his neurotic wife), comes to the conclusion that a mistake has been made and
that the letter was really intended for his handsome best friend. Until now amazed and entranced, the actor,
David Daniel, suddenly deflates with logic and self-deprecation – (paraphrased)
“It must be for you. How could I possibly
think a woman would be interested in me?”
– with so forlorn a face that a wave of “Oooooooooooh!” emanated*** from the
women in the audience.
And Daniel put the audience in
his pocket and went on his merry way.
One of the many lovable qualities
about the American Players Theatre is their assumption that the audience has
not only intelligence but an attention span.
A Flea in Her Ear is a three hour farce (with two
intermissions.) It dragged a teeny bit
in Act Three, but that’s on Feydeau’s shoulders, not the production’s.
The action was brilliantly
inventive, and the characters were sincere, which is crucial. Good farce isn’t just a series of goofy
things happening to silly people. The
characters all want something desperately, and they’re dead serious about it.
I’ll be here all night if I try
to single out any performer. They are
uniformly excellent, which is the sign of a good director – the aforementioned David
Frank. And I already talked about David
Daniel, brilliant as both the repressed Chandebise and Poche, the drunken
doorman. So I won’t mention the
fireworks performance of Kelsey Brennan as the histrionically neurotic
Raymonde, Marcus Truschinki’s handsome idiot Tournel, Andrea San Miguel’s radiantly
sane BFF Lucienne, Juan Rivera Lebron’s ferocious Don Homenides or, in a
smaller role, Tracy Michelle Arnold as a befuddled hostess with a flat, Alice
Kramden delivery… if Alice was an ex-prostitute.
There was a deserved standing
ovation at curtain call. The cast and
crew worked their asses off and were hilarious doing it.
(I'm ending all three current reviews with this, as it is an important point.)
One thing that aids APT in
presenting 2½-to-3 hour shows is the effort
involved in getting there. From DuPage
County, Illinois, it’s a long drive, followed by a half mile uphill walk to get
to the theatre. (Shuttles are
available.) After all that work, you
really don’t want to turn right around and go home after 1½ hours. You go there expecting to be grandly
entertained for an entire evening. And
your expectations are grandly fulfilled.
If
you love classical theater, you need to go to American Players Theatre.
If
you want to love full out classical
theater, but have only seen abridgements or bad productions, you need to give
APT a shot, because you will be converted.
If
you hate classical theater… go away.
*** I was going to say “fauceted,”
but when I checked to see if that really was a verb, I found that it was
included in the Urban Dictionary with a meaning not quite what I wanted to convey.
***********************************
“A Flea in Her Ear” by Georges Feydeau. Adapted and directed by David Frank.
When: Through October 7
Where: American Players Theatre, 5950 Golf Course Road, Spring Green,
Wisconsin, 53588
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged)
In 1998, Jerry Lewis, in what was apparently an attempt at controversy to draw attention to himself, stated that women aren't funny. And he recently doubled down on the opinion. He needs to drag his 90 year old ass out to Steel Beam and see The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged)by Adam Long, Daniel Singer and Jess Winfield. This rapid-fire pastiche of All Things Bardish was originally performed by three men. Director Jesse Hicks has cast three of the funniest women in the area to take their places. (It's actually four, but you only see three at each performance. Two of the performers trade off.) The director does an expert job at keeping things moving and funny. But I can't say enough about the cast. As a director, I sometimes find it difficult getting actors to perform at stage-size instead of TV size. Enormous is the amount of energy necessary to propel an audience through an evening of fast paced comedy. The energy level here goes through the roof. The goal is never to make the audience feel as they got their money's worth; it's to make them feel as if they owe you more. That is accomplished here in spades. Julie Bayer, Jennifer Reeves-Wilson and Heidi Swarthout are not Good Actresses. Julie Bayer, Jennifer Reeves-Wilson and Heidi Swarthoutare absolutely top-notch professional-level CLOWNS. There is no higher praise that I can give. They are not "funny - for women." They are funny. Period. Actually, I don't know if their periods are funny, but I'm willing to bet that they are.
If you are interested in spending your entertainment money wisely, this is a great bet for you.
If you are an actor interested in studying comedic performance in order to better your own - this is MUST see.
You may eventually see performers equal to Julie, Heidi and Jennifer (and probably Lori Holm, whom I didn't see). You won't see better.
********************
"The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged)" When: Sept. 16-Oct. 9 Where: Steel Beam Theatre, 111 W. Main St., St. Charles Tickets: $28 adult; $25 seniors (62 and over); $23 students Information: 630-587-8521 or steelbeamtheatre.com
Should you go seeHow to Succeed in Business
Without Really Tryingat
the Marriott Theatre? My
answer is a qualified “yes.”
How to Succeedis very close to my heart for reasons I won’t bother
with here. They’ll be in the next post, or as a comment on this
one. So, unfortunately, I’m a picky know-it-all about the show.
Let’s go through the good stuff first, then deal with the four gremlins.
This Pulitzer Prize winning musical deals with
corporate America in the early 1960s. J. Pierrepont Finch, an ambitious
window washer, uses a How To book to angle his way to the top. For fans
of classic musicals, the score includes such Frank Loesser hits asI Believe in YouandBrotherhood
of Man. If played correctly, it is one of the four or five
funniest musicals ever written. If played correctly. Meaning, give
up any ideas of political correctness. It takes place in the
sixties. Men were executives, women were secretaries or wives.
Sexual behavior was not so much regulated as it was glorified. A) That’s
the way it was; accept it and realize it’s a period piece. B) The authors
aremaking funof greed and sex. That’s a farce’s JOB.
So if you dampen the venality, there’s no point in doing the show.
Even with the best of Finches, the show is usually
stolen by Hedy LaRue and Bud Frump. Angela Ingersoll is the best Hedy
LaRue I’ve ever seen. Playing a cartoon sex bomb, Ingersoll nails the three
most important aspects of the character. One of these is comic timing.
Instead of going for the usual high pitched Marilyn-Monroe-from-Brooklyn imitation (or Carol Channing, as Maureen Arthur played it in the movie
version), Ingersoll goes for a low, occasionally raspy cigarette voice that is
perfect for the character. Polite society decrees that I must not mention
the actress’s breasts in a review. But Angela Ingersoll isbrilliantat making her tits funny; which is
what the part calls for. I was not fond of Terry Hamilton’s J.B.
Biggley. He kept throwing in a lot of childish shtick into a part that
epitomizes Dignity. His dignity can’t be overthrown if Biggley isn’t
dignified. Hamilton was solely a cartoon… whereas, when Hedy says, “Don't start gettingsincere. That's not fair,” Ingersoll looked truly
wounded and seemed about to cry. That’s how you give humanity to a
cartoon character. I can’t say enough about Ingersoll’s performance, so
I’ll move on.
As Bud Frump, Alex Goodrich had an
interesting approach, which I’m still not sure if I liked or not. Frump, the villain, is usually the
audience favorite because he’s so damned ineffective at villainy. He’s the Wile E. Coyote of musical
comedy. But Goodrich, who
is amazingly talented and nails all the jokes he is permitted to nail (more on
that in the Gremlin section), gives Bud a snarling, roaring, venomous rage that
is a bit off-key with the breeziness of the script. I didn’t hate it; but still… Anyway,
Goodrich is mostly hilarious.
Choreographer Melissa Zaremba did
some brilliant things. Cinderella, Darlingworked for the first time since 1961
because A) nobody was going through the motions on a song they regarded as
dated; they bought into it and B) the choreographer made it work by turning it
into a pseudo-tap number instead of a static stand-there-and-sing comedy
number. And I won’t spoil the moment inBrotherhood of Manwhen the executives realize they have
to join in. Very funny (and subtle) stuff.
Jessica Naimy was a wonderful
Rosemary, with the perfect angle on the character. Instead of a sweet (if
pushy) doormat, Naimy’s Rosemary looked unflinchingly at her options –
secretary or wife – and was just as hungry and conniving about her goal as
Finch was about his.
Derek Hasenstab was great in the dual
roles of Twimble and Womper, as were Jason Grimm as Bratt and Marya Grandy as
Smitty. The ensemble was expert at their jobs. Felicia P. Fields as Miss Jones seemed to be very ill the night I saw it, so I’m going to cut her some slack.
The Gremlins:
1. Mentioned a bit earlier. How to Succeedis a period piece. If
you can go along with the idea that sex and greed are funny, you’ll have a good
time.
2. Pacing. Sigh. Just sigh.
The first half of Act One is unbearable. There is a rehearsal technique
called “speed through.” You just spit out the lines as fast as you can,
no emotion, no communicating, no periods, no spaces between words. Don
Stephenson directed the majority of Act One as a speed through. When
Rosemary meets Finch, you can’t understand a word she says because she’s been
directed to spitoutallthewordsasfastaspossible. And it’s not just
her. Everybodydoes it. The message, I guess,
is that we’re on a rocket ride! What it actually says is that the
director has no confidence in the material and wants to get it over with.
If he doesn’t care, why should we? Punchlines? What punchlines?
3. The Matthew Broderick revival has
a lot to answer for. First – Miss Jones, who is now nearly always cast as
a large black lady. Sigh.
A black Finch… great. Or Rosemary. Or Hedy. Or Bud. Or
Womper. But Miss Jones is theonecharacter inHow to Succeedwho needs to be played by a
middle-aged, starchy, repressed white woman, because anything else kills the
joke inBrotherhood of Man– that the most unexpected person in
the room suddenly decides that she is Mahalia Jackson. It’s not
prejudice; it’s getting the joke right. It's like casting Sean Connery as
Maxwell Smart. He's great at what he does, but he's wrong for the part.
Then, in this production, not only is
the wrong person singing the song, but it is turned from gospel into
scat. Badscat, at that. It kills the
double meaning of “Oh, brother!” if you don’t actually sing those words. Brotherhoodis not just an eleven o’clock number –
it’s a stinging satire of redemption, being sung by irredeemable people.
4. The second Matthew Broderick
effect: miscasting Finch. Ari Martin is awonderfulleading man. But you don’t need
a handsome, romantic leading man for Finch. He isn’t a cuddly puppy dog;
he’s a slinky, sneaky catpretendingto be a cuddly puppy dog. This
is one of those parts, like Harold Hill inThe
Music Man, where Comedy Comes First. If Finch can dance and carry
a tune, great. But the primary factor of the triple threat is
comedy. Not Matthew Broderick. Not Daniel Radcliffe. Ideally,
you need a young Nathan Lane, who can take over the stage and defend it against
all comers. It’s whyYoung
Frankensteinis never
going to work onstage – Frederick requires an equally triple-threat man when
the comedy should lead. Ari Martin is a tremendous singer and dancer, and
can play comedy. But he’s not an aggressive clown; and that’s a
minus.
Bottom line: if you aren’t as picky
as I am aboutHow to
Succeed, you’ll have a great time. When the amphetamines wear off
enough to let the jokes land, there are a lot of laughs. The singing and
dancing are expert. It’s a decent evening in the theatre.
