Peter Bergman Theater Reviews

'Les Liaisons Dangereuses'

2010-02-11T02:48:42Z

"Les Liaisons Dangereuses" by Christopher Hampton, adapted from the novel by Pierre Choderlos De Laclos. Directed by Tina Packer. At Shakespeare & Company.

Love isn't always the answer. Those with defeated libidos, disaffected hearts, and insensate minds and egos may not find love of any sort to be the saving grace it is cracked up to be. In the 1780s upper-class French world of Christopher Hampton's play "Les Liaisons Dangereuses," too many people find love to be either a game or an indiscretion or an act of defiance. Late in the play, the two edgy protagonists of this high-risk story take their indiscreet games to a new level as they declare in a single word their true intentions toward one another: War!
All is fair in either form of social interaction, apparently, and in the end, everyone does indeed fall into line with this declaration.

]]> Vicomte de Valmont and the Marquise de Merteuil are among the most intriguing fictional creations of all time. Neither one has a moral code that allows for innocence or humility. Best friends for years, they each enjoy the other's affairs, encouraging and challenging one another to do more, to defile more, to destroy more. She, a widow, has taken her wealth and position -- both of which are enhanced by her beauty and seductive nature -- to extraordinary heights of control as she becomes the confidante of other women and young girls whom she guides effortlessly into the arms of her friend Valmont. He, a man of strength and power, has delighted in introducing these women to all sorts of perversions while aiding younger men to follow in his footsteps.
It all comes to a head in their current flings. Neither one anticipates the power of love in its purest state, and when Valmont becomes affected by his own, long-withheld passions, the roof of their jointly built pergola of sex literally crashes in on them, destroying their game once and for all. I have seen this story end with violence to both. I have seen it end with the exposure of their intent and the ruination of reputations. I have seen it played with a contempt for the inevitable and with a hopeless betrayal of the route to redemption. At Shakespeare & Company's winter production on the Elayne P. Bernstein stage, it ends with a reference to Hamlet (which seems natural) and a whimpering of women.
Tina Packer has directed her company of 11 players with style and a sometimes too-foppish sensibility. She has found, or injected, more pockets of humor than I remembered in this Hampton version. She almost has endeared the Marquise to her audience. Her Valmont, however, loops back and forth from a strong sensual male to a bisexually available creature. Had it been the director's intent to show the cross-sexuality of the play's male lead character, she should have extended it into his final scene with his younger protege. That would have truly made their liaisons dangerous.
Packer also has used the image of a chess game indiscreetly in two scenes where the leads take a clearly challenging dialogue that her actors are playing brilliantly and added the oddest of physical movements, including a hopscotch competition. This removes some of the edge needed between them on their way to total "war" and makes them needlessly ridiculous. The chess game image could have worked with a different floor pattern of smaller squares and a naturalistic use of that pattern, but it certainly doesn't work in its current configuration.
Elizabeth Aspenlieder plays the Marquise with an elegant flourish. The innocence of her face is an overlay in this performance, masking the mind of a hell-cat. Her costumes, conceived by Govane Lohbauer, are beautifully wrong, hiding the cleavage that should entice men, encourage women and entertain the audience in seductive ways. There is never a moment when we see her uncorseted and in full sexual dudgeon. Merteuil is an ancient seductress in a modern setting. Her openness and availability to her friends is what makes her so dangerous. Aspenlieder plays this wonderfully, but she is far too constrained by adapted costumes that keep her rigid and anti-sensual. Instead of the uncomfortable fears we should feel with each of her entrances, we are guided into a complacent level of relationship with her. Nevertheless, this is a role this actress takes on with a full-steam-ahead intent and it carries her through to the end, which completes the story with a sadness rather than a full-blown regret at the loss of a prime contender.
Josh Aaron McCabe as Valmont is doing some exquisite work, but he also has been led into different visual expressions as noted above. His poses are too much the period fop -- think Osric in "Hamlet" or Lord Foppington in "Lock Up Your Daughters" -- and not enough the Dandy. While the Marquise fantasizes about same-sex union, Valmont never does. McCabe, in his scenes of seduction, is forthrightly male and is so convincing in his earnestness that the "other" actions are strikingly out of place. His love scenes and rejection of love scenes are heartfelt and sincere, and that is confusing enough given the nature of his character. His betrayal of that saving grace of true love, which so informs the story, is chilling. It is a performance that could have been perfect, if warmer than in other versions I have watched, had the director guided him into the character rather than skirting it with unsatisfying and unnecessary gestures and poses.
As Madame de Tourvel, the woman who inadvertently destroys the game played by the two leads, Kelly Galvin gives a lovely, charming performance. Lydia Barnett-Mulligan plays the convent-educated virgin, Cecile de Volanges, with believable sensitivities. Alexandra Lincoln makes the most of her two scenes of erotica. Enrico Spada as the young swain Danceny is bright and believable as the face of just-corrupted innocence striving to rid himself of guilt.
A surprise is the Azolan, Valmont's servant. Normally a throwaway role created to provide some necessary information, Scott Renzoni plays the part with wicked intensity and creates a very honest character who is simply unforgettable. As with his performance in "Cindy Bella," Renzoni completes his portrayal with look, voice, movement and gestures that suggest he is capable of much better things than we've seen from him in the lobby, where he usually manages the refreshment counter. Note to S&Co: Keep this actor growing.
Renee Margaret Speltz gives an almost realized honesty to Madame de Rosemonde, whose silliness is often stressed over her sincerity. With Speltz, it is the other way around, and in the last scene of the play she delivers nicely on the honesty and makes us see, for the first time in the play, why the guillotine imagery of the show's final moments are so necessary here.
Alexander Sovronsky's music works well in the transitions between each of the 18 scenes. Carl Sprague's spare set works well, and Stephen Ball's lighting was unintrusive and could have been more helpful in area playing.
This colorful play has been given a chromatically diminished production that works very well but is not perfect. The show, which runs almost three hours, is a worthwhile excursion into the parallel lives of the French upper classes of the 1780s and the American upper-middle classes of the 1980s, the time when the play was written and first seen. It works today, in this new production, as a historic play of the former era only. It does a decent job of it, but it loses some of its appeal by narrowing its focus.

"Les Liaisons Dangereuses" plays at the Elayne P. Bernstein Theatre at Shakespeare & Company in Lenox through March 21. Tickets range in price from $16-$48. For information and reservations, call 413-637-3353 or visit shakespeare.org.

"The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged)"

2010-01-19T01:58:23Z

"The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged)" by Adam Long, Daniel Singer and Jess Winfield. Directed by Tony Pallone and Colleen Lovett. At the Ghent Playhouse.

"Act Two!" "Gesundheit!"
It's that kind of show.
No one has written as many quotable lines as playwright William Shakespeare and, when presented in the wrong way, none are funnier. What authors Adam Long, Daniel Singer and Jess Winfield did when creating this show -- which reduces the bulk of the author's oeuvre to a two-hour exercise -- was to provide a means of lightening the burden of such works as Titus Andronicus to a visual joke, the girl disguised as boy comedies to single entity, the historical dramas to one individual notion and the dramatic works to a face-off with time.
As originally played by its authors, and later by other groups of three, its manic changes and hysterically short-lived terrors resulted in hilarious confusions of identity and deliciously spouted aphorisms and marvelously inserted familiar quotes. Things look a bit different at the Ghent Playhouse where the company of three has been expanded to a company of five players, a sub-plot has been developed into a main theme (the playing of one actor over her own deep-seated resentments) and an audience involvement issue that brightens things up beyond one's expectations.

]]> Five players can definitely do more than three. In a script that calls for improvisation on the part of players while also getting all of the Shakespeare out, there is a challenge to be met by talented individuals. What five players also does, it seems, is lengthen the show by about 20 minutes. There is a pacing difference as part of the humor in the original depended upon lightning changes for the three actors that no longer seems necessary. Two extra bodies can provide an easier time for the ensemble.
The Berkshire region has been provided, in this past year, with other minimal cast shows where multiple characters are conveyed by a small group of players. Shakespeare and Company, which has also presented this work, did a "Hound of the Baskervilles" in 2009 with three men playing everything and everyone deftly and with great humor.
But here we are with five. Five talents divide into the nearly 40 roles, including themselves, very neatly: eight different parts instead of 12 or 13 (odd man out). The directors have fortunately chosen the right actors. Roseann Cane, Matt MacArevey, Prudence J.M. Theriault, Tracy Trimm and Jen Van Iderstyne take command of the stage and manage to stay themselves, or parodies of themselves, as they take on the great array of characters devised by "Big Bill S, King of the Stage." They start with "Romeo and Juliet," convert "Titus Andronicus" into a cooking show, manage to make Othello into something he's not, play 16 comedies as one, reduce "MacBeth" to its bare element -- a fight -- and combine "Julius Caesar" and "Antony and Cleopatra" into a miracle whip of history.
When the plot of the show turns to a performance (or rather four of them) of "Hamlet," the show takes off into brilliance. The only problem I have with this version of the abridged Shakespeare is the pacing of the second act, which drags a bit. It is funny to watch them play out the play (as I speak it to you), then reduce it and reduce it and finally play it the way no one should ever do ("don't try this at home"). Here, where the pace should become excessive, it does not and while still funny loses in the end to become mere repetition.
Trimm is especially fine in his job of "host" of the evening's entertainment. Cane is excellent, managing to make confusion into something compelling. MacArevey is a wonderful Hamlet and he dominates the stage in Ghent with his stature. Theriault is a bit under-the-top when she could easily be over it, but she plays her parts -- including her very deep Fryer Laurence -- with strength and a controlled hilarity (as the ghost of Hamlet's father Hamlet she is divine). Van Iderstyne is the best Ophelia ever -- reluctant to perform and then unable to leave the stage, ever.
I don't know why two directors were necessary. Their different roles in that capacity are not defined, but perhaps one was there to keep the other on target. I don't know. But somehow they both dropped the ball on pacing.
It's a pretty production to watch. Bill Visscher's set is fun, Dave Malsan's lighting is effective and Joanne Maurer's costumes are just the right degree of silly. This is a show that delivers on the promise of its title and, if it doesn't bring you every word, you leave with quotes swimming through your brain and a giggle in your heart. Big Bill S. would be pleased. Methinks.

"The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged)" plays through Jan. 31 at the Ghent Playhouse, located just off Route 66 in Ghent, N.Y. For tickets or information, call 518-392-6264 or visit ghentplayhouse.org.

"Puss in Boots"

2009-12-02T02:21:50Z

"Puss in Boots, or a Tale of Two Kitties." Written by Judy Staber and the PantoLoons. Directed by Tom Detwiler. At the Ghent Playhouse.

One thing we have all learned over the past decade is this: Columbia and Berkshire County audiences love their satire dearly, and the sillier it is, the better they like it. Therein lies a tale in itself and is why the annual appearance at the Ghent (N.Y.) Playhouse of the PantoLoons troupe is now a revered tradition, anticipated for months in advance, often a near sell-out and now and then on a waiting-list-only basis.
This group of gallant players, many in one form of drag or another, fracture the fairy tales beloved by young and old alike, adding everything from vague hints to direct hits on the political and social aspects of our world. The things that have an effect on our way of life, our manner of living, are on the list of possible targets for this group.
"Puss in Boots, or A Tale of Two Kitties" is just that kind of show.

]]> The greening of the American mode of living, Sarah Palin, pollution and global warming, Judge Sotomayor, animal rights, real estate developers and Madoff investments are all on the agenda in this year's show. Song parodies -- many will be familiar to some of the audience, some will be familiar to all -- give the characters an alternative to the comic, and sometimes romantic, dialogue of the piece. For anyone who never has seen one of these shows, a warning: Nothing is what it seems, and it is all meant to be fun. If the 10th annual production is not your first, you already know this, and my warning is in vain.
Dame Amanda Reckonwith (read these names out loud, sometimes you have to do that twice at least for the full effect) plays Aunty Dote, the Hudson River fairy. She narrates the show and is a most important character herself, motivating with her fairy's magic the action of the play. Ali Katz plays the title character (or half the title characters if you read on into the subtitle). Anita Mandalay-Pronto, one of the few non-cross-dressing actors, plays the young heroine Flora (oh, well, that is sort of cross-dressing after all). Little Ricky Rows Well plays Arabella, the oldest sissle bister or rather Bissle sister, and Shanooka La Treen plays the middle sister Tilly.
The Gentry are played by Jack Stride Rite as Mayor Rich, Nicole Putin as his wife Yolanda and Hunka Burninlov as their son Prospect. Tamara Snotherday (you have to say that one out loud) is the villainess Pollutia Von Schtunk and her cat, Helixa, is portrayed by Oliver Gaylord Camp.
If there is one character, or character actor, who is funnier than anyone else, I couldn't tell you which one. And if I did, I would be wrong, for every audience and each and every audience member will take one or another and pick him or her out. It will always be different, and no one will ever be wrong in their choice, for they are all marvelous in their roles. The cast, in real life, includes Judy Staber, Paul Murphy, Cathy Lee-Visscher, Rick Rowsell, Ron Harrington, Joanne Maurer, Mark Schane-Lydon, Sally McCarthy, Tom Detwiler and Johnna Murray.
Twenty songs and three instrumental sections, all played by Paul Leyden, keep the show moving musically forward. Some work better than others. One complaint I have had in the past is that the lyric parodies have been too short. Put that concept, along with my criticism, in the past. Staber and company have gotten everything just about right in this new show.
While some of the jokes may seemingly fall flat, they always bounce back up and hit you in the face a moment later. The plot is a conglomeration of "Puss in Boots," "Cinderella" and "Romeo and Juliet" (on two separate levels). Puss has some difficulty with his rap number, but then he is Spanish, or Latin, and it's hard to rap convincingly with an accent and a slight rhythm-challenge. Aunty Dote has fleeting problems with concentration and the two sisters sometimes seem to break one another up. All of this is par for the course in a Panto (short for Pantomime, a British holiday show that is never silent and is always the basis for this local entertainment) and we want it just this way. The informal set pieces are made more delightful by the charming way these players can make a mistake, deal with it and just get back on the road. It's like falling off a horse. You get back on and ride proudly into the sunset.
Joanne Maurer's costumes are a sensation, and Rick Rowsell's set is wonderful. Bill Camp's lighting is always just right for the moment or the button of the moment.
There is little I look forward to as much as I look forward to the PantoLoons at the Ghent Playhouse the day after Thanksgiving. If they ever give this up, I will personally seek each and every one of them out and give them a redoubtable thrashing. But only for the fun of it. And only with a sardonic and sly smile on my lips. And children, players all, I know where you live.

"Puss in Boots" plays through Dec. 13 with three shows a weekend. Ticket prices range from $8 for children to $15. For reservations, call 518-392-6264.

"The Fantasticks"

2009-10-14T19:47:20Z

"The Fantasticks." Book and lyrics by Tom Jones, music by Harvey Schmidt, loosely based on "The Romancers," a play by Edmond Rostand. Directed by Andrew Volkoff.

Harvey Schmidt and Tom Jones wrote their first major musical for a summer theater at Barnard College in New York. It later opened off-Broadway at the Sullivan Street Theatre in 1960. It almost never has seen the sunset of an eternal long-run. Somewhere someone is always putting it back onto the stage.
It is an engaging piece, complete with hit songs like "Try to Remember," "Soon It's Gonna Rain" and "Plant a Radish." It transforms the traditional boy-meets-girl, boy-loses-girl, boy-gets-girl concept into just the barest extension of that rudimentary plot by adding two scheming fathers, a bandit-for-hire and two ancient actors who quote Shakespeare and die effectively. There is also a wall, played by a Mute who also becomes a tree and a variety of weather, as needed.
Barrington Stage Company in Pittsfield has extended its season into autumn by presenting the tiny musical on its large Main Stage for a short run. This sweet, expressionistic show - the "Urinetown" of its day - is bizarrely not dated. Its conceptual sensibility never has altered, and the reality of young love and the realizations that come to young lovers about themselves and one another have never changed. Neither has the popularity of this musical.
T

]]> here are some odd things happening at the theater on Union Street, however, and most of them have nothing to do with the show itself. As with so many shows these days, the ultimate version of the play lies with the sound engineer, in this case, Tristan Wilson. While the theater is distinguished by its access to the stage from any seat in the house, there is a whole lot of major miking going on, much of it probably unnecessary. Steve Wilson, who plays El Gallo - the narrator/bandit - is so over-miked that in his first number, "Try to Remember," it is as though he was singing a capella, without accompaniment, rather than with a grand piano and a full-sized harp. (Note to the program author: This is a harp and not a harpsichord, which is a keyboard instrument). In fact for most of the evening, the harp might as well not exist and the piano might well be in another building. The balance of sound is so way off base.
Wilson, who is the principal player in this show, gets to show off his talents in many ways. He sings, dances, acts, narrates, makes modest love and maximum fun with his flexible body, face and voice. He is a major asset to this show. If his voice is small, there is no way to tell with the overly loud amplification of his voice, which also was overwhelmed by occasional reverberation and noises that caused the theater to unplug their assisted hearing devices. Wilson turns in an excellent performance in spite of the technical overhaul of his ability and personality.
As the young man, Matt, the romantic lead of the play, Cory Michael Smith does a very nice job. He is personable and attractive and a good singer to boot. I was especially delighted with his scene of disillusionment, a strong and definitive representation of all that goes with the return of the prodigal son.
His Luisa, the 16-year-old girl-next-door-friend, was played by Dana DeLisa, whose singing was often wonderful, but occasionally off-pitch and shrill. She plays very young very well, however, and can be forgiven an occasional ramble into some other key. Together she and Smith make a charming duo.
Their two fathers are played with delicious differences by Darin DePaul as the boy's dad and John-Charles Kelly as the girl's. Their three numbers are definitely highlights of the show, but those numbers often are. DePaul has a nice way with the nasty streak in Hucklebee, while Kelly takes his few shots in anger with a soft relish that is both charming and delicate.
Bob Sorenson does nice work with Mortimer, the English actor who delights in death scenes, and Gordon Stanley is at his very best as Henry, the Old Actor. Breaking into Shakespeare at the drop of a hatpin, Stanley makes the most of every opportunity and he is wonderfully funny.
The Mute is played by Jonathan Karp, and his work, almost non-stop in this show, is a joy.
The show has been cleaned up in the years since it first appeared with the "Rape Ballet" transformed into the "Abduction Ballet" and the word "rape" written out of every lyric and dialogue passage, save one, in an effort to make the show politically correct. I know it may not be the accepted thing to laugh at the concept of rape, but the show's slight edge has been diminished by the unnecessary alteration.
The physical production has a cheery, traditional look to it, even though it belongs in the company's smaller, more intimate Stage II. The best costumes are those belonging to Henry and Mortimer, the finest set piece is the painted backdrop which lighting designer Jeff Davis uses beautifully to create mood, establish time of day or night and highlight the musical moments brilliantly while never distracting from the forestage action.
There's not much time to see the most-seen musical ever. There's nothing that would disturb a child, or an adult or a senior adult, contained in this show. That is the nature of the play. Director Andrew Volkoff has delivered on the promise of "The Fantasticks." He brings to life an era from the end of the century before last in last century's garb with a perfect placement in our own time. He has made timelessness its own pleasure, leaving us with the feeling that Schmidt and Jones wrote the show for this year's Barnard College festivities: a contemporary college, summer theater show with a theatrical score that makes it just so much better than that.

"The Fantasticks" runs through Oct. 18 at Barrington Stage Company's Main Stage on Union Street in Pittsfield. For information and tickets, call the box office at 413-236-8888.

"Belles"

2009-10-12T00:47:16Z

"Belles: A Play in Two Acts or 45 Phone Calls" by Mark Dunn. Directed by Nancy Wilder. At the Ghent Playhouse.

Comedy can be tragic when very little is amusing. Similarly, drama can be silly when everything is trivial. "Belles," a play by Mark Dunn that opens the 35th season of the Ghent Playhouse, is neither trivial nor tragic even though it is barely amusing and only a minor drama. It is, one might say, a mistake that this company has made, one of the few in my memory after 16 seasons of reviewing them, and that can be forgiven when you weigh the prior years and the bulk of their community opportunity. This company has nurtured actors -- Stephanie Tanaka comes to mind -- who bring little experience but a true conviction that acting is to be pursued. It has folded into its season a British holiday pantomime tradition, completely foreign to this region, and made it a hard-ticket item. It has brought national figures -- Serpico comes to mind -- into their seasons past and showcased them ensemble-style and made audiences nearly beg for more such appearances. This company has even taken technical theatricians under its wing and turned them back into the public eye as remarkable performers.
This opener for the new season provides at least four company debuts, including the director, and does what good community theater should do: bringing new blood onto the local stage and developing new audiences for the product they produce. It is just that this vehicle is inferior, the performances not up to snuff, and the direction sloppy and muddled. That is not a great result from a terrific intention.

]]> "Belles" tells a brief story -- only four consecutive days are portrayed -- about the six Walker sisters who live in six states, scattered from their Tennessee roots to Philadelphia, Atlanta, Austin, and towns in Mississippi and Washington State. Their only means of communication with one another is the telephone and in "two act or 45 phone calls" (I actually counted 51, but maybe I shouldn't have included the answering machine and responses as actual calls) the Walker girls manage to alter their lives just a tiny bit. One loses a husband; one loses her self-delusions; one takes a step into relationships; one spews her anger into the ethos; one experiences a sexual revitalization; one manages to move her empathy onto a road called apathy.
The greatest alterations are delivered by a Ghent regular, Cathy Lee-Visscher playing Roseanne, and a newcomer, Jackie DeGiorgis as Aneece. The most minor changes in their lives are experienced by actresses Leanne Wilensky as Paige and Denise Rubio as Dust. Eileen Johnson's Audrey and Sally Dodge's Peggy are caught in the playwright's lustreless limbo.
The biggest problem seems to be the inept handling of a difficult set, designed by Tom Detwiler, by director Nancy Wilder, who has helmed another production of this play in the dim past -- 15 years ago. There are lengthy stage waits while actresses clamber on and/or off the set in silence. There are lengthy stage waits while actresses in ghost-light perform dumb dumb-show that merely reinforces the difficulty of maneuvering in the space. There are long periods when music plays and actors stand still waiting for the much-needed fade-out while lights are coming up so they can begin a scene. The disconcerting emotional dissonance serves only to disillusion the audience, turning their emotional attention into Spam (the meat product, not Internet junk) and their appreciation of all that is good here into simple rejection of the play.
Lee-Visscher's role is not dissimilar to others she has taken on at this and other regional community theaters. She handles Roseanne's disappointments beautifully and her destruction of ketchup is classic. As a distracted mother, always in a "fishbowl" of critical attention, she creates a sympathetic character. She is a woman scorned and betrayed. She is a needy soul who cannot pour out her heart without finding herself in a puddle. Roseanne makes a miraculous recovery, and Lee-Visscher knows just how to make us believe it possible. More and more, the actress is better and better in every part she plays. Roseanne is the one character whose life seems real from 8:10 to 10:20.
She is almost matched by DeGiorgis. Aneece is single, sharp, hard-edged, an alcoholic like her reprehensible father. She is self-tortured because of a childhood in which torture was love and love was withheld. Her need for a mother to hold her while being upbraided becomes so important that a second act monologue comes close to approaching pathos. DeGiorgis makes her second act appearances so much better than they might have been, based on her heavy-drawling, Memphis-impressed first act moments. She finishes the play with a personally triumphant scene that keeps the play alive, more alive than it has been for nearly two hours.
Leanne Wilensky is young and has a long way to go before she can tackle a complex role like Paige successfully. At this point, unlike DeGiorgis and Lee-Visscher, we can see her acting. The next steps take careful work and excellent guidance.
Denise Rubio plays Dust, or whatever her name is, with gusto and enthusiasm, yet we never really get close to the woman she is or the child she once was. The lines are there, but the heart and soul of the woman is lost in movement, outfits and a sexual sensibility that is both funny and unreal at the same time. Her character is lost in characterization, easy answers for a young actress.
Youth, in fact, is the one element that defeats this production. The age range of these six sisters is so great that the off-stage, much referred to, Mother would have to be nearly 100 for any reality to set in here. One problem with community theater has always been the availability of actors who are right for the roles. In this case, we seem to cover a spectrum of 20 to 60 (or more). For any woman to have conceived and raised these girls together in one house is visually impossible.
Sally Dodge is a decent actress burdened with a role that seems, in her hands, more hired nurse, a live-in, for a shut-in around her own age. Mama must have started breeding when she was 11. Dodge, who is placed downstage center, is presented as the central character through this physical placement. In reality, it is Aneece whose emotional journey covers the most ground, but it is Peggy, or Dodge, whose time on stage is central to all the activity. Dodge does what she can under the spotty guidance of her director, but she cannot save the play, not with her long stage entrances and exits. They preclude the buttoning of a scene; come to think of it, the director hasn't really managed a button with direction or lights or sound for any moment in the play.
Similarly, Johnson's Audrey is somewhere out in left field. She is really the only sister who seems to have spent her formative years as trailer-park trash. Her obsession with bar performances as a ventriloquist while waiting dutifully at home for her backwoods hunter husband is so out-of-keeping with the rest of her siblings that she is almost an intrusion, something out of another play. This is the playwright's doing, and not Johnson's, but she is stuck with it. She has most of the humorous lines and bits and her physical presence is splendiferous. She is just too "out there" to provide a proper family semblance to this ensemble.
Too much to achieve too little is the final call here. Talent wasted on third-rate materials does not make for enjoyable theater. I look forward to what's next; I think you should do the same. Things will get better at the Ghent Playhouse, and soon. I'm sure of it.

"Belles" plays through Oct. 25 at the Ghent Playhouse on Route 66, just west of Chatham, N.Y. For schedules and tickets, call the box office at 518-392-6264.

"Third"

2009-10-07T00:43:28Z

Third by Wendy Wasserstein. Directed by Eric Peterson. At Oldcastle Theatre Company.

The influence of one state over all others. That's the topic of Wendy Wasserstein's final play, now ending the main stage season of the Oldcastle Theatre Company's 2009 season in Bennington, Vt. A bright and illuminating play, given a sterling and moving production, it is only on hand for a little bit more than a week. That's too short a time for this production.
Wasserstein died in 2005, just at the time this play opened at Lincoln Center for an all-too brief run. It seems that Oldcastle must cut short the life of this play in our region just as Wasserstein's life was cut short four years ago. The original production starred Dianne Wiesst, Charles Durning, Amy Aquino and Jason Ritter. Who would have thought a cast like that could be bettered, but Oldcastle may well have them beat. The quintet on stage at the Bennington Center for the Arts delivers every bit of influence that the script gives them with just a bit more in the visual department to help them deliver the playwright's message.

]]> Christine Decker plays Laurie Jameson, a professor of literature at a small New England college. Jameson believes her teaching methods are illuminating, opening the minds of the brightest to other possibilities. She does not believe in the value of impressing minds to a single concept. Decker has the strength and the directness of Jameson's character down perfectly and yet, when she is seen in scenes at home with her daughter or with her father, she becomes a totally different person. The darkness lifts and underneath is a person whose radiance is impossible to conceal. Here she is Laurie, loving and restrained, and not Professor Jameson, all fire and passion.
The two sides of her personality, however, become crossed when she confronts a student who defies her belief in her own sense of judgement and approvals. Decker is a shrewd actress. She crosses these lines deftly and with a seamlessness that brings Jameson alive on stage. She fades into the background and only Laurie Jameson exists. It's a triumphant performance that magically transforms us as we watch her dance with her Alzheimer-ridden dad, as we see her destroy her oldest friendship with intolerance, as she destroys her relationship with her daughter. We can even buy her apologetic and remorseful self in the final scenes because she has refused to allow her one major mistake of hegemony to destroy the person she has always managed to be in her life.
"I still know what I know," she states at the end of Act One and by the time she reaches the end of Act Two this fact is still a prime factor in her existence, but it has taken her to new places she never assumed she would find.
As the student who inspires her wrath, Loren Dunn turns in a stellar performance. He is nuanced and subtle, strong when silent and stronger when speaking. He brings a fully fleshed out characterization to the stage as he is confronted with a charge of plagiarism and counters it with a reality that comes unexpectedly to the bitter fore with his off-school job as a bartender.
Jenny Strassberg plays Emily, daughter of Laurie Jameson, student and demi-radical who would rather love a man who believes in himself than become a replica of her mother, whose concerns with the human condition sometimes obliterate her love for her own child. Strassberg delivers nicely in this role. When she leaves the domestic and academic situations behind we are almost relieved and yet there is a chill to it, partly based on what we have seen that Emily has not in her mother's relationship with her own aged father. That chill is the recognition in her resolve that may preclude her own caregiving to a mother who may one day need her.
Paula Mann plays the friend, another professor whose cancer has caused her to leave her favorite class to Jameson, who betrays her trust -- not professionally but personally -- and removes herself from the friendship that had saved her more than once. Again, the influence of one state over all others drives a wedge between the two and Nancy (Mann's character) cannot support Jameson's groundless allegations. The final scene between the two of them, awkward, distant and difficult, is a moving realization of 25 years having become almost meaningless under the stresses of the present. Mann knows just which buttons to push in this scene and she makes the most of every chance.
In two scenes, Carleton Carpenter as Laurie Jameson's ailing dad tears out the hearts of every audience member and replaces them with bits of his own. I cannot believe there is a person able to withstand the emotional sweetness of half-remembered relationships, recognition difficulties and Glenn Miller's music. Carpenter delivers a frail human being with a strong image and a cultured sensibility. In every sentence, we see and hear the younger Jack Jameson and in every action we see and appreciate the remains of a human soul. The musical moment between him and his daughter, a dancing moment, is one that will stay with me, and with most people I am certain, for a very long time.
Eric Peterson has delivered a beautiful baby in "Third." It should be every person's duty to pay a visit to Oldcastle this week to see what he and Wendy Wasserstein have produced as a gift to an unexpectant public. It's as simple as that: one influence over all others. Attend the play.

"Third" plays at the Oldcastle Theatre Company's Bennington Center for the Arts stage through Oct. 11. For schedules and tickets call 802-447-0564.

"The Hound of the Baskervilles"

2009-09-30T01:05:33Z

"The Hound of the Baskervilles" by Steven Canny and John Nicholson. Directed by Tony Simotes. At Shakespeare & Company.

I have argued with everyone for much too long, far too many years. In spite of almost every movie or play I've seen about Sherlock Holmes -- and this is true of all of them -- Dr. Watson is practically never given his due. He is neither stupid, foolish or inane. He is a smart man. He is an honest chronicler of Holmes exploits and adventures. He is a true companion. He is a brilliant doctor with a long history of medical triumphs under difficult circumstances and, through his association with the detective, he is an observant aide to Holmes' criminal investigations. He is not the "foil."
In "The Hound of the Baskervilles" Watson has always been placed at the center of the action. It is Holmes intention that the villains of the piece believe that Watson is the mastermind. Watson is actually the one who uncovers plot points and identifies probabilities -- the role usually associated with Holmes.
Now, for the first time, Watson is the star of his own show.

]]> A three-man script requiring lightning fast costume and character changes for two of its players, this new version of the Baskerville story gives center stage to Watson. It's about time, too. And, in keeping with the situation -- and the previous situations -- the horrors of the tale are among the funniest moments of the 2009 season at Shakespeare and Company.
Under Tony Simotes' inspired direction, the farcical elements easily overtake the emotional moments. The characterizations stimulate the laughter and the performances cloud the memory with so many brilliant and hysterical realizations.
Jonathan Croy, Josh Aaron McCabe and Ryan Winkles are a perfect ensemble. I lost count on how many different roles are taken by McCabe and Winkles, but the official number seems to be 15. McCabe is Holmes, first and foremost, and also the beautiful Brazilian vamp, Cecile. Winkles plays Sir Henry Baskerville, a Canadian and also his own lawyer, a Scotsman with a bagged lamb and his distant cousin who may not be what he seems. Croy plays Watson, so integral to every scene that he can only take on the role of a gypsy guitar-fiddler in the extraordinarily sensual La Cumparsita dance sequence.
I know, Holmes purists; there is no La Cumparsita dance sequence. Well, there is, actually and it is one of the funniest bits in a hilarious two-hour evening.
Winkles has fast become one of the company's finest physical comedians. As Sir Andrew Aguecheek in "Twelfth Night" and Flute in "A Midsummer's Night Dream," he nearly stole the shows away from long-term players. In the current show, he brings a fluidity and variation to his many characters that seems born out of a natural lack of humility. He is equally comfortable with his pants off or on. He contorts his face and body into character requirements without flinching. He is believably straight, gay, young, old, you name it. He cannot play an adonis, but that may be the only role for which he is not yet ready. And I'm not sure of that, actually.
McCabe's strong jawed, full-chinned Holmes is superb. He is not the classic Michael Hammond Holmes, but he brings a confidence to the role that allows even the silliest lines to seem exactly right. His household servants -- husband and wife -- are delicious, and the funniest jokes about costume changes are his as he struggles back and forth between the two. As Cecile he manages to make obvious drag into serious romance and he handles fans better than Sally Rand (the stripper/fan dancer) would have done.
Croy is a master of farce comedy and he plays his relatively straight role in this show with all of that finesse and experience behind him. The man is a laugh-riot all by himself as he shoots his pistol (sort of) to protect the beleaguered Sir Henry. He handles the verbal sparring in this rapid-fire comedy with aplomb. His almost magically common face lights up with handsome enthusiasm whenever his character feels pride in getting things right. He is the Zeppo that the Groucho and Harpo of Winkles and McCabe use to exploit their absurdities: the Marx Brothers of Shakespeare and Company.
In this American premiere of the play, director Simotes and his production team have provided the threesome with everything they need to pull off the wilder aspects of the play. Nothing deters this trio, not missing costume pieces, nor falling props, from completing each moment perfectly. Jim Youngerman's set pieces provide enough of an indication to keep the viewer on track as to place. Steve Ball's lighting lets us see everything, including minor mistakes that really don't matter. Govane Lohbauer's costumes are sometimes just as funny as their occupants, sometimes simply grand indicators of class and station. Alexander Sovronsky has created a musical ambience that truly enhances the play.
A major departure for this company in its autumn mystery/horror series, this fast-paced farce might confuse young children, but in its sell-out opening night, even an audience participation moment had its pride of place and made the fun that much funnier.
As a proponent of the correctness of Dr. Watson's place in the realm of superior people, I am proud of the authors, the company and Jonathan Croy for finally rescuing the character from the ridiculous and raising him to the sublime through the ridiculous. This is a delicious delicacy, an evening of theater that would give even a cynical, critical show-hater an appetite for more live performances.

"The Hound of the Baskervilles" plays through Nov. 8 at the Elayne P. Bernstein Theatre at Shakespeare and Company, located at 70 Kemble St. in Lenox. Tickets range from $16-$48. For schedule and information, or to book tickets, contact the box office at 413-637-3353 or visit shakespeare.org.

"Red Remembers"

2009-09-16T00:15:53Z

"Red Remembers" by Andrew Guerdat. Directed by John Rando. At Berkshire Theatre Festival.

Broadway actress Ethel Barrymore, a star from the turn of the last century until her death in 1959, was a huge baseball fan, principally of the New York Giants. Though best remembered for her film roles, including the Empress of Russia in "Rasputin and the Empress," the art gallery owner in "Portrait of Jennie," and Doris Day's grandmother in "Young at Heart, she was an acknowledged attendee of the game. She also had the scores of the Giants' games whispered to her during performances on stage so she could keep abreast of the game. She knew Red Barber who had been the radio voice of the Brooklyn Dodgers (1939-1953) and then, in an unexpected switch, for their rivals the New York Yankees (1954-1966). Both were fans of Jackie Robinson who, in his last season of professional baseball was traded by Barber's former team, the Dodgers, to Barrymore's favorite team, the Giants.
This, however, has little to do with the story being told on stage at the Unicorn Theatre at the Berkshire Theatre Festival in Stockbridge, where a new one-man play about Barber is currently being played by the actor David Garrison.

]]> In Andrew Guerdat's play we meet the old Southerner at home in Florida in his declining years. His wife, Lylah, an early Alzheimer's victim, is being packed off to a home; their daughter Sarah is on her way to pick her mother up. Red, who has tales to tell, is talking to a couple who may adopt the Barber's cat. He reminisces about his life and career, his protection against his own illness and senility. His fifty-nine year marriage, having undergone the usual trials and tribulations, now gives him his reason for being and he suffers the pangs of insecurity at this new challenge of living alone while his wife slips further and further away from him.
An alcoholic who has sworn off drinking but still can't resist a slug or two now and then, Barber comes to us full-blown and still a redhead, a man near death who doesn't want to realize that his possibilities are limited by his age and his circumstances. He is a man who has known Ernest Hemingway, John Steinbeck, the sports greats and the topnotch soloists in the world of opera. He and Ethel Barrymore have dined with kings and with one another. A true great in the world of broadcasting he has helped to create the personalities of Mickey Mantle, Joe DiMaggio, Joe Garaggiola and so many others. He knows he cannot die, but he knows he cannot live without the love of the woman he has lived with so long. He is tethered to pillars, supporting a temple of his own design, pulling it down around himself like a modern-day Samson.
There is much humor in this play. There is much drama as well. David Garrison creates a bigger-than-life figure who is still just a fragile mortal. He gives Barber a shake that could rattle a horse. He brings to the role a voice that is distinctly this famous announcer's voice, yet it is not like the original at all. His face, haggard and aged, is not like Barber's and yet it seems to be that of the famous baseball play-caller. There is something oddly right about it all, but thankfully it is still a theatrical experience that one can accept, applaud -- cheer even -- and then leave behind.
Garrison knows just how to play the facets of the jewel he has been given and director John Rando has been brilliantly selective in choosing which of those glistening faces to allow the actor to show. We see him at his best and at his worst. We are warned early on what that worst entails, but when Red Barber is overtaken by his excesses and his anxiety it is a truly difficult thing to witness. How Garrison handles what happens is nothing short of a brilliant example of what happens in the collaboration among author, director and actor.
Jonathan Wentz's very realistic set functions well for this play. Matthew E. Adelson turns in his best work of the season with his lighting design and the combination of music, sound effects by J Hagenbuckle and projections by Shawn E. Boyle work perfectly to enhance the concept of things remembered.
I have remarked many times in this frugal summer, reviewing plays in three states, that I am not fond of mono-drama, that often dreary format where one actor performs on a stage alone for two hours. I am ready now to withdraw that statement. There have been too many good ones this season, and "Red Remembers," in this world-premiere production, is certainly one of the best.

"Red Remembers" plays at the Unicorn Theatre at the Berkshire Theatre Festival in Stockbridge through Nov. 1. For full schedule and tickets, contact the box office at 413-298-5576 or visit berkshiretheatre.org.

"Moonlight and Magnolias"

2009-09-16T00:12:33Z

"Moonlight and Magnolias" by Ron Hutchinson. Directed by Philip C. Rice. At the Theater Barn.

According to playwright Ron Hutchinson, for five days in 1939 writer Ben Hecht was locked in David O. Selznick's office with Selznick himself and movie director Victor Fleming. They had paper, pencils, an endless supply of bananas and peanuts, and they were hard at the task of rewriting the script for the movie "Gone With the Wind." It was the week after Selznick had fired director George Cukor. It was three weeks after Vivien Leigh had been hired to play Scarlet O'Hara. It was after scripts by Charles MacArthur, F. Scott Fitzgerald and a dozen other writers had been completed for that motion picture.
This is the premise of one of the funniest plays I've ever seen, now in a wonderful production at the Theater Barn in New Lebanon, N.Y.

]]> Four brilliantly funny performers are pulling off the best end-of-summer coup of this or any other season with a delicious, "laff-riot" experience that will have you heading out of the building weak from laughing, guffawing, knee-slapping reactions to the beautifully timed physical and verbal comedy of Matthew Daly, Aaron S. Holbritter, Richard Lounello and Melissa MacLeod Herion.
Under the slick and precise direction of Philip C. Rice, these four actors are dragging us screaming with hilarity back to a time when social pressures mattered to a relative few while the importance of the big-screen entertainments mattered to the masses. The Great Depression was coming to an end and the great war ahead was still just that -- ahead. It would be another two years before America became truly engaged in the world's trauma. For now, in 1939, the obsession of most Americans was who would play Scarlett opposite the massive appeal of Clark Gable as Rhett Butler. Millions had read the book. More millions waited to see the film. Selznick's problem was his devotion to the letter of the author's words.
In this play, he compels Ben Hecht to script an already much-scripted film. The only problem is that Hecht has not read the novel. To assist him in his five-day assignment to turn out a shooting script Selznick and a reluctant Victor Fleming act out the entire scenario for the writer while he turns their rendition into the bible that Fleming later filmed.
For Selznick everything is in the details: the shape of the ice, for example, or the color of a dress, a sky, a tree. He is compulsive in his slavishness to Margaret Mitchell's work, although he has ignored her suggestion that Groucho Marx play Rhett. And he is devoted to the large movie-going audience, "the ones with all the power," as he calls them. Hecht is on a tear about politics and the war in Europe. Fleming is just glad to get away from 150 fornicating "munchkins" populating his other hit movie of that year, "The Wizard of Oz."
Richard Lounello is a graphic and physically vital Fleming. A hunting, boozing, womanizing companion to Gable and others, he is a man for certain. Lounello plays him like a Mafia Don who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty. He brings a strength and a reality to the man that is never more well-defined than in the second act when, after nearly five days of non-stop work, he cannot do much, cannot stand, or even peel a banana. His physical comedy is never better than when he has to simultaneously play Melanie having her baby and Prissy returning without the doctor. In his debut with this company he has made himself a worthy addition.
Aaron S. Holbritter acquits himself masterfully as Ben Hecht. Big, bulky and bold he commands the stage when he stands up to the bully director and the brash producer. He provides a real sense of humanity in this otherwise egoistic assembly of Hollywood males. His Hecht is a fine figure, defending Jews and Judaism against the bigotry of self-denial Selznick exhibits. His skill with the typewriter seems genuine and his way with wacky comedy is unexpected.
As the beleaguered and compliant secretary Miss Poppenghul the company is fortunate in having Melissa MacLeod Herion. She handles physical and verbal comedy with equal ease. Her head is the show's timepiece, gathering more and more pencils as adornment with each entrance. Her handling of a bag of peanuts (the ultimate moment in physical solo comedy) is nothing short of Lucille Ball-like. Her voice rings like a southern belle's. Her eyes roll like the wheels of a flivver. Her hands flutter like those of Zasu Pitts and her ankles buckle like a comic illustration of young love in her first kiss. She is winning and a prize player in every one of her moments.
Selznick is portrayed by Matthew Daly, just coming off his stellar performance as Lawrence Jameson in "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels" at this theater. Unlike the character in that musical -- a man who is estimable as a faker of roles -- he plays an all-too-real comic figure as the movie producer whose life, future and reputation is at stake in this film venture. There is great humor in desperation, it seems, and Daly captures every aspect of that fear in his performance. He plays the producer's deep belief in the book and film with strength and an uneven humanity. Daly also manages to create the unique atmosphere of tension and compassion that is so necessary for his character to have as he hoists his employees through the experience of creating a classic that neither of them believes in from the outset. The subtleties in this play are evinced in the playing of Daly. This is a triumph of a performance.
One of Abe Phelps' best sets is trashed by the end of the play (although cleaned in record time by Miss Poppenghul in one of Herion's funniest bits). Allen E. Phelps lights the play to enhance every moment. Kate R. Mincer's costumes are exactly right for the period and the players.
Toward the end of the play, the principals tussle over the final line of the script. You would think that "Tomorrow is another day" wouldn't engender a lot of laughs, but if you aren't too weak from laughing by the time they get to this classic overstatement, you will be when they finish hammering away at it. That may be the only thing to keep you going on the way home from the play.
Tomorrow is another day -- and one you will cherish as you recover from so much fun.

"Moonlight and Magnolias" plays weekends only through Sept. 20 at the Theater Barn, located at 654 Route 20 in New Lebanon, N.Y. For tickets and information, call the box office at 518-794-8989.

'Dirty Rotten Scoundrels'

2009-09-02T00:50:43Z

"Dirty Rotten Scoundrels," music and lyrics by David Yazbeck, book by Jeffrey Lanz, based on the film script by Dale Launer and Stanley Shapiro & Paul Henning. Directed by Michael Marotta. At the Theatre Barn in New Lebanon, N.Y.

When this show opened on Broadway in 2005, starring John Lithgow and Norbert Leo Butz, it came with credentials. Based on a very successful 1988 movie starring Michael Caine and Steve Martin, itself based on a reasonably successful movie made in 1964 starring David Niven and Marlon Brando (Bedtime Story), the show also boasted a score by the hottest new songwriter in town, whose previous show, "The Full Monty" which opened in 2000, had been a big hit. "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels" followed by four years and played 650 performances.
In brief the story is this: Con-Man Lawrence Jamieson, tries to prevent younger Con-Man Freddy Benson from poaching on his territory in the south of France but, unsuccessful, agrees to coach his rival instead. When Freddy helps him out of a difficult, near-marital situation, they agree to work as partners -- again reluctantly -- to fleece a young heiress. What follows is foolish rivalry, shanghaiing, misconceptions and general hilarity.
At the Theater Barn in New Lebanon all of this is now firmly on their stage under the deliciously magical direction and musical staging of artistic director Michael Marotta.

]]> Marotta knows how to make this material sell and he understands that nasty, somewhat despicable characters can still charm an audience and make them laugh and applaud. He uses every trick available to him here and it pays off nicely.
Megan Rozak, this year's musical heroine, does a nice job with the difficult role of Christine Colgate, a role that originated way back when with Shirley Jones. The musical variation gives to this woman a strange twist of fate that helps the show on its route to success. Rozak is up to the challenge. She sings and dances and does physical comedy with ease. She romances both her leading men, playing to their strengths and using their weaknesses. Her variation on the seductress is adorable (she is a zaftig chick) and her smile is a great part of her charm.
The two men she seduces with her innocence are Trey Compton as Freddy and Matthew Daly as Lawrence. Compton does bumptious very well. He is crude, mawkish and unattractive until groomed by his mentor. His loud-mouthed assertions are wonderfully delivered and this actor can project voice and personality equally well across the footlights. His loutish performance is just perfect in the context of this show and he just couldn't be much better if he tried.
As the elegant, older man, Lawrence, Matthew Daly makes a much needed return to this stage. A popular favorite, and one of my personal favorites as well, he is ideally suited to this role. He can even make his unpleasant sneer into an attractive gesture as he sings, dances and romances Rozak, only one of his many conquests in this show as well as Muriel of Omaha and Jolene of Oklahoma. Daly, warmly remembered for his performance in "Six Dance Lessons in Six Weeks" a few seasons back, has developed a more charming side and it works well for him here.
Jerielle Morwitz is a pleasure to see and hear as Muriel Eubanks; her light handed comedy is a pleasant alternative to the more heavy-handed Rozak providing a sensual counterpoint. Daniel Moser is all right as Andre, although his singing wasn't up the standard he presented in his previous show here. Leslie Dorsett is a fine looking, if inadequate singing, Jolene Oakes but she is hilarious in the scene in which she is discouraged from marrying Lawrence. The chorus/ensemble is exceptionally fine although the band could barely be heard (too much fabric, I believe on the teasers that allow for speedy scene changes -- a trade-off that doesn't work for me, I'm afraid).
The team of Phelps and Phelps (Abe -- set, and Allen -- lights) with the aid of director Marotta has produced a fine looking production aided immeasurably by the charming, appropriate and often very funny costumes by Jacci Fredenburg and Kate R. Mincer.
But it is the show that counts with a show like this one and this one is just about as fine as it could be. Talents meld beautifully on this occasion providing a treat of a two and a half hour musical, one whose happy ending keeps on getting happier. So does its audience.

"Dirty, Rotten Scoundrels" plays through Sept. 6 at the Theater Barn at 654 Route 20, in New Lebanon, N.Y. For information and tickets call 518-794-8989.

'The Beauty Queen of Leenane

2009-09-02T00:47:17Z

The Beauty Queen of Leenane by Martin McDonagh. Directed by Eric Peterson. At Oldcastle Theatre Company.

There's a recessive gene somewhere, a chromosome perhaps, that informs a certain state of instability in the emotional makeup of some mothers and daughters. When control is the prime issue, as it is in Martin McDonagh's play "The Beauty Queen of Leenane," that recessive sense comes to the fore in a big way.
Mag and Maureen live alone together in a creaky old farm house on a hillside in Connemara, County Galway, Ireland. Their relationship is not good; at best it is testy at its worst it is dangerous. Mag tells lies about her daughter to everyone, especially to men, and Maureen rebels by making up a history that may or may not be her own. They pull at one another emotionally and sometimes physically, and no torture is too great for either one when it comes to controlling the actions of the other. Mag has seemingly destroyed her daughter's life and her chances at a life outside this small town and tiny home. Maureen is her servant and only Mag's death will bring about her chance to escape. When she finally gets a man to want her, the situation only gets worse for everyone.
Not a snappy comedy, as you can tell.

]]> In its current incarnation at Oldcastle Theatre Company's Bennington, V., home, it doesn't even get its usually uncomfortable laughs. That doesn't really matter, though, because the two actresses who go at each other for two hours are doing a wonderful job at playing the ugly realities while the two men with whom they spar are doing their finest jobs playing the ridiculous in their characters.
As the unstable and overly cruel daughter Maureen there is Katrina Ferguson. She is tall, big-boned and plain, a stunning combination in the playing of this part. Ferguson makes Maureen alluring at times, seductive and pretty, but she never lets the character shine unduly or display too much of a good thing in her character. When confronted with a story of insanity in her past, she does a wonderful job of parlaying the story into just that, a story. Even in a state of confession, later on, she manages to make her boyfriend, and us, believe that Mag is making things up. Ferguson does it with subtle gestures, facial expressions and a voice that pours rich, thick cream onto the surface of anything she want to coast on. It's a beautiful performance right up to the final moments of the play when more is revealed than she has even conceived of up to that point.
The boyfriend here is Richard Howe delivering a fine performance, particularly in his letter writing scene at the top of Act Two. He is, and looks, a trifle too old for the part, but he plays it well enough so that the discrepancy between age and experience in Pato Dooley is smoothed over by the actor's work.
Playing his brother is a newcomer to this company, Michael Providence. His Ray Dooley is a game lout, into paralyzing the competition in a conversation by constant insistence and repetition. What could be annoying becomes almost charming, and certainly disarming, in his performance. There is even something odd enough about the lad to make you wonder if he could be the dotty one in the quartet of characters.
Another newcomer to the company, Emily Jon Mitchell, plays Mag Folan, Maureen's irascible and irritating mother. I always marvel at an actor or actress who, over the age of forty, can memorize lines and perform a difficult role with apparent ease, as Ms. Mitchell does here. She has control of her tone of voice so that each utterance has its own double layer of meaning. She has an overwhelming sense of the moment and she makes each turn of events pay off for her nicely. She is almost sweet enough to kiss, and always annoying enough to swat, like a bug. Mitchell outdoes herself in each successive scene until we're pretty sure she's the crazy one, but there are still places she wants to take us, and she sets out on her way with confidence and a depraved sort of pride. It's a wonderful characterization that Mitchell gives the woman: a horror who is almost endearing. I think it was what McDonagh was aiming for when he wrote her.
Kenneth Mooney has created a well-designed production and Eric Peterson has put his actors to work within Mooney's setting and brought on the flames of desire, anger, hatred and lust. That the set doesn't burn down is due, only, to the restraint in the playing of Katrina Ferguson. Lit from within, she withholds her heat most of the time and that helps a lot.
See this play twice and it will permanently destroy your desire to visit Ireland and meet the people there. It is clear that though they might fascinate you, they will also frighten you. Let this be a lesson, then, in travel clearance: "The Beauty Queen of Leenane" is great theater and a travel-trend destroyer. Among other things.

"The Beauty Queen of Leenane" plays through Sept. 13 at the Bennington Center for the Arts, located on Route 9 at Gypsy Lane in Bennington, Vt. For tickets call the Oldcastle Theatre Company box office at 802-447-0564 or find them on line at oldcastletheatreco.org.

"Meet Me in St. Louis"

2009-08-30T12:45:06Z

"Meet Me in St. Louis," music and lyrics by Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane, book by Hugh Wheeler, based on "The Kensington Stories" by Sally Benson and the MGM Motion Picture. Directed by John Saunders. At the Mac-Haydn Theatre in Chatham, N.Y.

If your heart breaks when a little child buries her dead doll or when she smashes her snowman because she has to leave him behind when she moves away, this would be the show for you. Except. This is a case of "except" and there is good reason for that -- except there shouldn't be.
Too many people think of the movie starring Judy Garland and Mary Astor and Margaret O'Brien when they even hear the title of this show, which is a popular song from the turn of the previous century. In 1943, the 22-year-old Garland played the 16-year-old Esther, a high school junior, and broke everyone's heart except for those already broken by O'Brien as her baby sister Tootie. Holding that sobbing, hysterical child in her arms, Garland crooned "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" and a nation at war released its tears and cried for its losses, mostly the loss of its united innocence. It would be great if we could do that now. Except.
This isn't 1944. The beautiful production at the Mac-Haydn Theatre in Chatham, N.Y., isn't the big screen at a Loewe's or even the small screen in the dark in our living rooms. There are real live people breathing new life into this piece and they make us feel differently about their silly goings-on in St. Louis in 1903. Except, they really don't, but they don't have the same intensity in their impact.

]]> The wonderful cast is doing a wonderful job in this wonderful show. Except. They cannot banish our memories of the equally delicious company that introduced this work and made it so much a part of our lives.
Quinto Ott as Alonso Smith, father of the clan, is perfectly cast, except he is too young for the role. Nevertheless, he pulls it off beautifully and even regales us with his lush bass-baritones in the duet "Wasn't It Fun?" which he shares with Lisa Franklin playing his wife. Ott has been one of the bright joys of the Mac-Haydn season in other roles and "Father" is another bright spot. This man should have a career ahead of him if he chooses to pursue it and this could be one of those roles that follow him around, popping up every few years. Franklin is his equal in this show and her solo song about love, "You'll Hear a Bell," works so well in her rendition that it almost seems as though Mary Astor must have sung it before, except she didn't.
Jamie Young as daughter number three -- Agnes -- was delightful. So was Rich Krakowski as brother Lon. Here is another performer who has delivered the goods all summer long, especially as Joseph in the Andrew Lloyd Webber show. In this performance, he shows the warmth in his soul and he, more than any other Smith sibling, almost gets the sobs going and not for anything more than extending a hand, softening a blow. It's a rich offering.
Mary Elizabeth Milton and Jennifer Bishop are the older Smith sisters, Rose and Esther. Their emotional trials with boyfriends form the core plots of the piece. Milton handles hers with humor and a certain aloofness that makes her performance enjoyable, a quality that is missing in the film's Rose. Bishop in the Garland part is pert, perky and petite, three qualities that Esther requires. Another "Joseph...Dreamcoat" holdover (she was the Narrator) she sings well, although sweet singing comes with more difficulty than boisterous singing for her. She is at her very best in the "Christmas," number but really handles the "Trolley Song" like a tropper. When she roughs up her boyfriend, she is at the top of her acting chops.
As Tootie, the tot who tips the scales of this work into the maudlin, there is a delightful little girl (one of two alternating in this part) named Shelby Kline. She has the charm, the innocence and the talent to pull off this trap role, but not the instincts for getting her audience to tear up. They will come in time, I am certain, but right now she only has the all of other elements working for her.
In smaller roles, but showy ones, Nancy Evans delivers nicely as Katie, the housekeeper, and MJJ Cashman is just fine as Grandpa. Joe Bettles is a funny Warren Sheffield, Rose's beau, and Ben Jacoby delivers another solid portrayal as John Truitt, the boy next door. Sorry, boys, but this show belongs to the Smiths. Even Jacoby's fine singing in "You are for Loving" wasn't enough to take this show away from Ott, Krakowski and the ladies.
The best performance of the evening was actually delivered by a set. Kevin Gleason's realization of the trolley for the first act finale was wonderfully delivered in the hands of Motorman Wes Urish and the company as choreographed by Karla Shook and directed by John Saunders. It's a rare moment when a set piece brings on the tears, but this one actually did it.
Jimm Halliday's costumes were nicely in period, reminiscent of the movie but not replicas, thank goodness, and the all white finale was a nice touch with feathers replacing lace.
Set changes took a while, because of the size of some of the pieces, but they were all well done and worth the wait.
Except (there it is again). The music to cover those changes was thinner than usual. This theater needs something better. Please, won't someone buy them a machine that will allow them to make music instead of quasi-music? The quality of onstage performers has gotten very good here and they deserve something more to bolster them when they sing and dance so well. The physical quality of productions here is excellent and they get high ratings for trying something different in their scheduling. It's this one element that just holds them back, prevents them from being a really first-class summer venue. A trio of musicians added to their piano and drums would be better than the synthesizer, which sounds terrible in a show like this one, which requires some real sound. Even a cruise-ship show click-track would be preferable.
Don't expect to cry at this show. Don't expect anything except good work from a talented cast and crew. That's what you'll get in this final show of the main company's season.

"Meet Me in St. Louis" plays at the Mac-Haydn Theatre on Route 203 in Chatham, N.Y., through Sept. 6. For information and tickets call the box office at 518-392-9292.

"White People"

2009-08-26T17:45:33Z

"White People" by J.T. Rogers. Directed by Anna Brownsted. At Shakespeare & Company.

It was 1975. I went to see Robert Patrick's new play, "Kennedy's Children," with Shirley Knight, Michael Sacks and Kaiulani Lee at the John Golden Theatre. I absolutely hated it. It was a bunch of people in a room saying monologues, never addressing one another. This was 34 years ago.
Flash forward to Shakespeare & Company, August 2009. I am there to see J.T. Rogers' new play, "White People," with Dana Harrison, Michael Hammond and Jason Asprey. It is three people sitting and saying monologues, never addressing one another. This time I tolerated it, but I still wasn't a happy camper. I like plays where people say things to one another, not to me. I don't mind a good monodrama, like "Shirley Valentine." That can be fun. But when there are two or more people on stage, I want to see how their stories interweave, how they interact and react. I don't want to be part of their show. I don't mind reactions from the audience -- laughter, tears, pangs of jealousy, remorse or any other human reaction. That's what a play does, after all.
I just don't want to be the stand-in for the character the author neglected to write into his nonplay and not be allowed to speak, to talk back on the spot, to elicit a response of my own from the characters who address me directly.

]]> Not that there aren't wonderful speeches in this play. Or that there aren't talented actors. It's just that they have to work so much harder to keep my attention because I can only see them, alone, talking to ... no one. As I listened in the Elayne P. Bernstein Theatre to their individual tales of dealing with incidents that involved other races than the "white," I wished for a fourth character, maybe a grief therapist, who is listening to their tales of woe, as they are listening to one another perhaps, and giving us a guide to the meaning of these tales, these diatribes. These expository speeches do not give us the characters they are playing, only their stories; it is the actors who bring the characters to life, even though it is a one-sided life.
Oh, well. To the performances:
Dana Harrison plays Mara Lynn Doddson, a dissatisfied housewife in Fayetteville, N.C., whose son suffers from Rasmussen's encephalitis, a rare form of epilepsy. She has a difficult husband and a hard time associating with the Indian (that is, a man from India) medical specialist assigned to her child's case. Harrison plays the sweetness of the character to a fare-thee-well, a distance that includes revelations about her husband and her own attitudes toward men with darker skin. When her particular racial dam bursts, it floods the Southland like nothing has since the Ku Klux Klan first rode on a small cabin in the woods and lynched its first unfortunate victim. At one point, so caught up in her emotions, Harrison let her Southern accent slip away, but she recovered it nicely. It's a very nice performance. The only thing missing is someone on stage to react to, participate in, flare back at that heat she exudes.
Jason Asprey plays Alan Harris, a history professor whose obsession with a black female student named Felicia always skirts its true objective. Aware of racial sensitivities, he pursues political correctness to a tee. When he and his wife are attacked by a crew of minorities, he comes face to face with his own deep fears and withheld prejudices alongside those of his very pregnant wife. The performance is passionate on many levels, but once again with no one to respond to what he says, feels or hides away in his mind. He does anger well, and again, there is no one to come back at him with anything, which would have worked well in the case of his particular double story. We really want someone to tell him off, set him straight, get him onto a reality road.
He might have done well in a room with Michael Hammond's character, Martin Bahmueller. There is an overlap in their tales, although with a reversal of major proportions. As the perfectionist father of a teenager who participates in the rape and mutilation of a black couple in St. Louis, he has to deal with his own unstated feelings about race, and throughout his series of monologues he does just that. As a counterpoint to Asprey's character, their conversations would have been something to revel in from an audience point of view. Instead we have monologues. Hammond's Martin is strong, compulsive, determined and infallible, for the most part, and his deterioration from primate-executive into a confused father was fascinating to watch and hear. Hammond is very good in this role, very good indeed.
Each of the three actors has his or her particular space. They never leave their own environment in designer Kiki Smith's concept. It becomes just a bit too much like watching a three-ring circus, especially when the lights, designed by Greg Solomon, stop highlighting the speaker of the moment and leave all three locations in equal or similar light. That mistake is a costly one, for it encourages us, the audience, to watch someone other than the person speaking to see if there is a reaction. It also taxes the actors much more than necessary, for they know they are in full view.
In a busy season at Shakespeare & Company, highlighted by three one-woman shows, this collection of monologue dramas broken up into smaller bits and pieces does not completely satisfy. It is to the credit of the three actors, and the work done by the director Anna Brownsted, that the play never lags. This, however, is not a play, but a collection of stories told almost simultaneously. Had all three been just played through without an intermission, the evening would have been a true circus. Heaven be praised!

"White People" plays at the Elayne P. Bernstein Theatre on the campus of Shakespeare & Company on Kemble Street in Lenox through Sept. 4. For tickets, call 413-637-3353 or visit shakespeare.org.

J. Peter Bergman sleeps in Pittsfield, but spends his days with poet Edna St. Vincent Millay in Austerlitz. For more of his reviews, check out advocateweekly.com or his own Web site, berkshirebrightfocus.com.

"Sick"

2009-08-26T17:44:43Z

"Sick" by Zayd Dohrn. Directed by David Auburn. At Berkshire Theatre Festival.

Sometimes you just know a play too well. Then you meet a new play, and it makes you think of that old play, the one you know so well. After a while, you find you miss the old play and you notice that it keeps coming to mind. You try to block it out so you can come fresh and unprejudiced to the new one, but it just won't let go of your imagination.
That was one half of the experience that I had at the Unicorn Theatre's production of a relatively new play, "Sick," by Zayd Dohrn. The other half was the actual appreciation of the new work, "Sick," in spite of the commonalities and coincidences with "The Glass Menagerie," last seen in this same theater, and even with some of the same cast.
Sidney, or Dad, brings home a gentleman caller, Jim (the same name as the Gentleman Caller, by the way, in the Tennessee Williams play), a young poet, to meet his family. Maxine, Sidney's wife, is clad in white, moves mysteriously through the apartment and only speaks in mini-monologues (sometimes only a line, but they make their point). She is the principal caregiver and home-school teacher (like Amanda Wingfield -- oh, my) to her sickly daughter Sarah (shades of Laura) and her even sicklier son (Tom in the Williams play, too sick to do much but go to movies, smoke and ignore the realities of life) Davey. The presence of the unexpected visitor causes havoc, or allows it anyway, and what is fragile (like a glass unicorn) breaks. Jim cannot put right what has gone wrong, even though he tries to help, and the girl, daughter, Laura figure is unable to break out of her mother's tightly wrapped shell.

]]> Two years ago I wrote the following: "The Gentleman Caller, an obsession for Amanda, is played by Greg Keller, whose pleasant face, body and voice make him an easy obsession for Laura and for Tom as well. He is charm personified. He is utterly likeable. The entire Wingfield family seems to be in love with this man, at least for an hour or so. Keller is an affable, likeable dinner guest, well-cast in this role and nicely played, right down to his awkward exit from their lives." Nothing much has changed about Greg Keller's performance in this new, seminal role right down to the forced, awkward exit.
Keller's Jim is still pretty much a sudden obsession for Sarah and Davey. He is still charming and likeable. His character stays to help clean up a mess created by Sidney when there is no reason for him to stay at all. Everyone in this trap of a rent-controlled apartment seems to be enchanted by Jim, including suspicious and wary Maxine. Keller still plays a dinner guest -- although he never gets any dinner in this play and, once again, he is perfectly well-cast in this role. Keller does extremely well with the soft moments, but there is even a cheery ring in his performance when there is a bit of bluster and embarrassment in what he has to portray.
Rebecca Brooksher shines in the role of Sarah. She has a disposition that lends itself to the quirkiness here. Her version of Laura is a sickly girl with a shot at breaking through the family obsession with health and protection (Mom is all for it; Dad is against it). Brooksher understands verve and its difference from vim or vigor. She gets the character just right all of the time, and her attempt to break out of the ugly protective coating that surrounds her is beautifully handled, no tears, no high dudgeon, but just sincerity and honesty holding the moment.
Her brother is played with a curious internal cruelty by Ryan Spahn. As the one member of the family who might well be ill rather than a tool for Maxine to afford an overprotective strong-arm hold, Spahn gives out with the appropriate coughs, sputters, gestures and looks. There is something, though, that keeps the sympathy levels low in his case. He has two fits, and the one that ends Act 1 is superb. However, Spahn knows when to soft peddle the illness factor and when to play the idiot. He does it appropriately, and there is never too much of one thing and too little of the other in his work here. He has a final gesture that tells us everything we need to know, if we see it. Director David Auburn has, unfortunately, focused most of our attention on another actor on another part of the stage. Still, catching the change in Spahn's Davey is the key to all the facts and fictions contained in this play.
Lisa Emery plays Maxine. Hers is one of the hardest characters to like. She is obsessive and focuses entirely on one thing at a time. When she becomes distracted, Emery moves her into the realm of the near-psychotic: There are head turns, twitches, muscle retractions in neck and arms, her feet seem to change shape. She is like a manic, younger Marian Seldes at moments, and then she becomes Joan Allen. Her chameleon portrayal of Maxine is a fascinator. It is inescapable.
Michel Gill is Sidney. His utter exuberance and high-end enthusiasm is a thrilling contrast to the rest of the family. Where they crawl, he strides; where they cringe and cower, he lopes and grapples with life. Gill is terrific here. He brings the bricks to life on this set. He takes the staircase three treads at a time and makes it look graceful. He plays a poet and college professor who possesses a cynical air about his family. He is so believable in the role he could be this man rather than an actor playing Sidney.
Together this ensemble really does justice to this play. Director Auburn has had the luck of the casting and has shepherded this flock of actors into the right stalls. The play sets and then holds its pace, but nothing is lost. The director has given ample room for the playwright's voice to call the roadside mileage counters.
The scenic designer R. Michael Miller has provided a perfect set. This one element speaks volumes. Wade Laboissonniere understands the need for direct image and simplicity in the costumes. Dan Kotlowitz has lighted the production well with an unreal realism. Nothing can be hidden under his bright lights and therefore nothing is hidden.
This modern take on the family unit that Williams wrote so beautifully so long ago is a triumph in the hands of Zayd Dohrn. I have a few quibbles about moments in the script that seemed unnecessary, even superfluous. This mother needs no tragic city disaster to focus her tragic sensibilities. This son needs no excuses for his behavior. And Father may know best, but in this play, he doesn't really know he knows it. If there's a tragedy buried in the comedy, that would be it.
I thought a play named "Sick," and a comedy at that, was the wrong way to end a season of fascinating marvels at this theater, but I was wrong. This is a good way to go out: in glory.

"Sick" plays at the Unicorn Theatre at the Berkshire Theatre Festival on Route 7 in Stockbridge through Sept. 6. For tickets and information, call the box office at 413-298-5576.

"Marry Me A Little"

2009-08-24T00:20:50Z

"Marry Me a Little," songs by Stephen Sondheim, conceived and developed by Craig Lucas and Norman Rene. Directed by Jonathan Silverstein. At the Dorset Theatre Festival in Dorset, Vt.

When you are working with second-rate Stephen Sondheim, you are still working with some of the best material to be had in the theater. But you still don't necessarily have the best show of your own. This is the dilemma of "Marry Me a Little," which contains material cut from "A Little Night Music," "Follies," "Company," "Anyone Can Whistle" and the scores of "Saturday Night" and "The Girls of Summer."
On stage at the Dorset Playhouse, the summer draws to a close with a production of this plotted review in which two people, a man and a woman, who live in two separate apartments in the same building (2C and 3C) that so closely resemble one another it is hard to tell them apart, spend a Saturday evening alone at home dreaming about love, past lovers and their hapless lives. In 18 songs, they move from their arrival home to an early bedtime (the show takes an hour) and the semisweet stain they leave on their environment will be clearly washed away by the morning sunrise.

]]> Leah Horowitz and Paul Anthony Stewart are the non-couple. Their stories are so similar that if they happened to get on the elevator at the same time, this all might change into a story with a happy, if temporary, ending. But this night, at least, that is not in the cards.
As directed by Jonathan Silverstein, with movement work overseen by Barry McNabb, the unspoken story is less than bitter, more than disastrous and less than pleasant. Silverstein moves his people around, practically comatose at time, with a languid, nearly turgid and defeatist attitude. On the night I saw the show it began raining outside, and the rain was so hard and incessant that it leant an even darker, more miserable, sensibility to the proceedings.
The final tune in the show, "It Wasn't Meant to Happen," leaves its audience despairing, I'm afraid, rather than even reluctantly hopeful about the future for these two nice, attractive people. Following the brighter, though difficult psychologically, song "There Won't Be Trumpets," this ending is a sudden trip into the nightmarish world of Sondheim whose own history of relationships has not been so healthy either, as far as I can tell.
In fact, the title song for this show, cut from "Company," was replaced with a song that has the same lyrics but a totally different feeling. In that show, there is hope when Bobby sings "Someone to hold me too close," and so on. In "Marry me a Little" the original song veers off from the spoken aspirations into the disclosed disgust of loss and emotional deprivation.
The show is so dark, in fact, that even the comic high points are somehow unrelieved. The Sondheim independent hit "Can That Boy Foxtrot," sung very sweetly and with perhaps a too naive interpretation at time, glows in the darkness of this bizarre show. The duet "Your Eyes are Blue" from "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum" gave both performers a chance to shine in some positive light for a while before things went into the bluer, and grayer world once again. "Pour le Sport" from the musical "The Last Resorts" takes its sports metaphors into the comic stratosphere but it helps neither the Man and Woman nor the audience to feel better about the world being shown on this stage. Rather it helps to solidify the concept that this particular Saturday night is not very different from the one before it or the one before that. In fact these folks are too bored and tired to break this pattern.
Horowitz has a sweet voice and personality and although not distracting, she is certainly diverting. One can almost imagine this life on stage as her own somehow. It is a world bordered by her locking her door before bedtime, all five locks. Horowitz brings out our sympathy, at least, and we listen to her intently as she sings, hoping against hope that a phone will ring, or a doorbell will sound. In her portrayal she gives us hope for her, something she seems to have dropped along the way.
Stewart seems the sort of handsome devil who would never spend an evening alone, and so it becomes an even more pitiable situation to find him in mourning for his own social life. When he sings "Uptown, Downtown," the lyric about a schizophrenic personality, it is obvious from the lyric that he is not singing about his own character. This is about a woman, and yet it is so foreign in his voice and his physicality that we get, and can live with, the impression that he just might be expressing something latent and hidden about himself.
Bill Clarke's sets are wonderful. The large pattern on the high, dark wall conceals, then reveals, the accompanist, musical director John Bell, who plays beautifully, lending this show the musical sheen it needs if the director wants us to leave the theater not slitting our own wrists.
Bell is a major asset to this show and Josh Bradford's lighting gives us a lot when Bell is on the scene, which is most of the time.
Silverstein helps us along, also, through the sincerity of each player's occupancy of their own space - even though for the purpose of the play they occupy the exact same space at the exact same time. The one apartment is meant to be each person's dwelling and the actors and director have made that very apparent.
If there is a fun side to this show, it is the double occupancy of the stage space and the musical talents of Bell. The more serious aspects come from the two performers and the man who wrote the material they sing. It is a nice balance that has been struck here in Dorset, but the show will never be a total crowd-pleaser, not even when the two are in bed. They are not together. Neither is the show itself, for all the good elements on the stage.

"Marry Me a Little" plays at the Dorset Playhouse through Aug. 29. The Dorset Theatre Festival's performance space is located at 104 Cheney Road in Dorset, Vt. For information and tickets, call the box office at 802-867-5777.