By Michael Block
Between the Playbill photo and the clothes strewn across the stage, Afterglow has prepared you exactly for what you're in store for. Playing the Loft at The Davenport Theatre, Afterglow is the raunchy and audacious new play by S. Asher Gelman about the ecstasy and dangers of an open relationship in the modern LGBTQ community.
Today’s gay scene is dominated by sex and the allure of intimacy. After meeting a married couple in a happy open relationship, Darius penetrates the relationship of Alex and Josh. One evening of fun opens up a Pandora’s box of new bonds, while testing old ones. At the end of the day, this is a play about intimacy and relationships. And S. Asher Gelman has written and absolutely stunning portrayal of this. It’s a gripping drama despite its predictability. The characters Gelman has devised are fleshed out in a manner that is authentic. For those in the community, you know who these three individuals are. Gelman has done an in-depth psychological breakdown of Alex, Darius, and Josh, pinning them up against their deepest fears, darkest demons, and the simple joys of life. We watch how jealousy can spike when new emotions come in. We see how a night of gazing at the stars can bring two people closer. We observe just how painful heartbreak is. There’s a discussion of how much love you can spread around and there’s such a stigma for polyamory, but Afterglow goes beyond this. Afterglow highlights how a simple visual can alter the storytelling of this necessary narrative.
Gelman’s characters are strong in the sense that they are a blank canvas of possibility. There are very few rules of what this trio should look like. And yet in this casting, Alex, Darius, and Josh are portrayed by three super attractive, very chiseled, finely manicured white men. This works for the gratuitous nature of the piece, but more on that soon. Can Afterglow be told with perhaps gay men of color or an older man or some bears or otters (that’s gay men with body hair of different statures for those unaware)? The answer is yes absolutely. And in that sense, Gelman has written a sensational play. It’s unfortunate that the mission here with this production is focusing on the hotness of the trio. Gelman, who also directs, is depicting reality in an overly hypersexualized manner. Can some of the scenes be told with clothes on to allow the nudity to have a stronger impact? Absolutely. But sex sells. There is a plethora of scenes in Gelman’s script that the characters could easily be conversing fully clothed. Nudity can be a distraction and should be utilized for impact purposes, otherwise it feels diluted. With the amount of intimacy and nudity on stage, you almost have to wonder has Gelman created theatrical porn with artistic integrity.
With intimacy being an integral theme in the show, scenic designer Ann Beyersdorfer played upon the intimacy for the audience. With seating on two sides, Beyersdorfer has forced the audience to watch others watch the play. There is no escape. On stage, however, her set mirrors some of the gaudiest gay bars in New York City. The scenic elements are black and glossy that allow a glimmer when Jamie Roderick’s lights hit it. The star of the show though is the world’s sexiest shower. If only we all had an overhead rain shower like Afterglow’s. The use of the hanging bulbs allowed for Roderick to create some stunning looks throughout the multi-scene show.
With a subject like this, a cohesive ensemble is integral to a successful piece. Thankfully, this trio was not only game, they were authentic. As the new cog to the couple and our eyes and ears into the story, Patrick Reilly played into the gay ingenue archetype in Darius. He went beyond the dumb twink stereotype to make Darius a versatile and fervent young man. Even when heartbreak sets in, Reilly brought out the fight within Darius. Brandon Haagenson highlighted the lackadaisical elements of his character, Josh. Josh is a free-loving, go-with-the-flow guy that serves as great foil for both Darius and Alex. Haagenson has a charm about him that causes any villainess tendencies in Josh to melt away. He gives you a reason to empathize with Josh, despite his actions. There are moments during the show that you wonder why Josh would want to jeopardize everything with Alex. Robbie Simpson’s Alex is one of those men that is too good to be true. He’s easy on the eyes, he’s well put together, and epitomizes the perfect partner. Simpson, effortlessly the strongest of the bunch, gives depth to Alex. Alex’s journey is difficult to watch, but as soon as Alex realizes how things are changing, he flips the narrative and becomes the hero that you want to see happy in the end. Robbie Simpson is a star in the making.
The show is long and could benefit from some trimming to create a 90-minute piece. But the meat of Afterglow is phenomenal. This is a show that will be around and find a place throughout the country. It’s an important narrative that I hope can find a little diversity in future productions and castings.
Monday, June 26, 2017
Sunday, June 25, 2017
Review: Loud, Reptilian and Incredibly Entertaining
By Ed Malin
Krista Knight and longtime musical collaborator Barry Brinegar (a.k.a. David Spegasus), under the aegis of The Cradle Theatre Company, have put the punk back in myth. Their new show Hissifit is literally an underground sensation.
To see the show, go to the DownUndertheManhattanBridgeOverpass section of Broooklyn, descend into the basement of 65 Pearl Street, and follow an undulating course of glow tape to the music rehearsal space where you will stand, clap and dance during the performance.
Krista Knight, doing an impeccable job of embodying a rainbow, introduces the band Hissifit, which is made up of three gorgon sister riot grrrls: Medusa (Julia Rose Duray), Miku (Andrea Negrete) and Macy (Vanessa Pareda-Felix), who regale us with energetic tachyons, or however the ancients described independent music.
The snake-ish band has their own DIY aesthetic, with paint-on scales (such that the nerd in me would call “Deep Space Nine Fabulous”) and have been known to bite disrespectful fans. These “fem monsters” have no money, so they consider a contract with British sassypants record exec Scott Rodent (Justin Pietropaolo). Suddenly, they are attracting large crowds, even the young-at-heart goddesses Athena (Rachel Caplan) and Aphrodite (Katharine Chin). Knight and Brinegar have really tapped into the power of these myths. Athena and Aphrodite are youngish Olympians (having sprung fully-formed from the testicles of Uranus and the mind of Zeus, respectively) and here are a bunch of screaming, privileged groupies. It’s a good thing that Athena and Aphrodite are waiting outside the band’s dressing room after the show, as the sea god Poseidon (Preston Mulligan) appears, ready to violate the strong, beautiful Medusa. Instead, Athena and Aphrodite repel Poseidon and give Medusa her infamous power to turn those she gazes on to stone. This feminist empowerment straight from Olympus is a welcome update from the story found in Ovid’s “Metamorphoses”. Even the young goddesses wander away from Medusa acting “stoned”.
Well, now Hissifit is causing a sensation as Medusa turns various fans to stone. Scott Rodent seeks to diffuse the situation by turning young Perseus (Nicholas Leung) into a hero. Perseus, a mere mortal, son of absentee father Zeus, has no friends, spends his free time playing rock video games, and “is somewhere on the spectrum”. He is probably the youngest character, and he shows it in good and bad ways. Great writing all around!
Perseus, a wearer of many safety pins, a dude who never looks anyone in the eye and a holder of a reflective shield, gives Medusa sunglasses which will allow her to safely play more concerts. Medusa rescues Miku and Macy from the Humane Society, where the idea of euthanasia hangs over their heads. They are mistaken; the term doers not refer to a band with young fans in Asia.
Eventually, Medusa’s megalomaniac tendencies kick in. She talks to the snakes in her hair (which are sock puppets operated by Andrea Negrete and Vanessa Pareda-Felix) and gradually turns evil. But nothing happens the way you might expect. The performers constantly enter and exit from different corners of the room, and the audience must turn every few minutes to readjust. Barry Brinegar’s video projections add legions of loyal fans, most with snakes in their hair. Pegasus the flying horse also makes an appearance.
Rebecca Etzine's direction brings together a non-stop punk rock show and a multimedia spectacle, circa the year "MCMLXXVI". Brooklyn lives: I'd say that was the most fun I've had in that neighborhood in 15 years. Jenni Oughton costumes the band in green skirts, fishnets and other monstrous effects. Also noteworthy is Poseidon's trident formed out of safety pins on the back of the god's jacket. Julia Rose Duray as Medusa valiantly makes a case for Medusa as an uncompromising, sexually charged woman who deserves the help (not the punishment) of the gods. Her sisters, Andrea Negrete and Vanessa Pereda-Felix, are so full of energy they are the only ones who can get through to her. It's a woman's world, or should be, and it is great that a Juilliard Project Grant contributed to the funding of this show.
Krista Knight and longtime musical collaborator Barry Brinegar (a.k.a. David Spegasus), under the aegis of The Cradle Theatre Company, have put the punk back in myth. Their new show Hissifit is literally an underground sensation.
To see the show, go to the DownUndertheManhattanBridgeOverpass section of Broooklyn, descend into the basement of 65 Pearl Street, and follow an undulating course of glow tape to the music rehearsal space where you will stand, clap and dance during the performance.
Krista Knight, doing an impeccable job of embodying a rainbow, introduces the band Hissifit, which is made up of three gorgon sister riot grrrls: Medusa (Julia Rose Duray), Miku (Andrea Negrete) and Macy (Vanessa Pareda-Felix), who regale us with energetic tachyons, or however the ancients described independent music.
The snake-ish band has their own DIY aesthetic, with paint-on scales (such that the nerd in me would call “Deep Space Nine Fabulous”) and have been known to bite disrespectful fans. These “fem monsters” have no money, so they consider a contract with British sassypants record exec Scott Rodent (Justin Pietropaolo). Suddenly, they are attracting large crowds, even the young-at-heart goddesses Athena (Rachel Caplan) and Aphrodite (Katharine Chin). Knight and Brinegar have really tapped into the power of these myths. Athena and Aphrodite are youngish Olympians (having sprung fully-formed from the testicles of Uranus and the mind of Zeus, respectively) and here are a bunch of screaming, privileged groupies. It’s a good thing that Athena and Aphrodite are waiting outside the band’s dressing room after the show, as the sea god Poseidon (Preston Mulligan) appears, ready to violate the strong, beautiful Medusa. Instead, Athena and Aphrodite repel Poseidon and give Medusa her infamous power to turn those she gazes on to stone. This feminist empowerment straight from Olympus is a welcome update from the story found in Ovid’s “Metamorphoses”. Even the young goddesses wander away from Medusa acting “stoned”.
Well, now Hissifit is causing a sensation as Medusa turns various fans to stone. Scott Rodent seeks to diffuse the situation by turning young Perseus (Nicholas Leung) into a hero. Perseus, a mere mortal, son of absentee father Zeus, has no friends, spends his free time playing rock video games, and “is somewhere on the spectrum”. He is probably the youngest character, and he shows it in good and bad ways. Great writing all around!
![]() |
photo by Krista Knight |
Eventually, Medusa’s megalomaniac tendencies kick in. She talks to the snakes in her hair (which are sock puppets operated by Andrea Negrete and Vanessa Pareda-Felix) and gradually turns evil. But nothing happens the way you might expect. The performers constantly enter and exit from different corners of the room, and the audience must turn every few minutes to readjust. Barry Brinegar’s video projections add legions of loyal fans, most with snakes in their hair. Pegasus the flying horse also makes an appearance.
Rebecca Etzine's direction brings together a non-stop punk rock show and a multimedia spectacle, circa the year "MCMLXXVI". Brooklyn lives: I'd say that was the most fun I've had in that neighborhood in 15 years. Jenni Oughton costumes the band in green skirts, fishnets and other monstrous effects. Also noteworthy is Poseidon's trident formed out of safety pins on the back of the god's jacket. Julia Rose Duray as Medusa valiantly makes a case for Medusa as an uncompromising, sexually charged woman who deserves the help (not the punishment) of the gods. Her sisters, Andrea Negrete and Vanessa Pereda-Felix, are so full of energy they are the only ones who can get through to her. It's a woman's world, or should be, and it is great that a Juilliard Project Grant contributed to the funding of this show.
Saturday, June 24, 2017
Review: Safe Travels
By Michael Block
Horton Foote is a master of depicting life naturally. With a wealth of plays, audiences seem to be drawn to his work. Foote’s The Traveling Lady returns to the stage in a briefer production at the Cherry Lane Theatre. Directed by Austin Pendleton, The Traveling Lady is simply put, fine.
The Traveling Lady tells the story of Georgette Thomas who travels to a small Texas town upon the release of her husband from prison. When she arrives, she learns that the truth she believed is not quite reality as her husband, Henry, a man of notorious reputation, has already been released for some time. Learning about the kindness of strangers, Georgette must make a decision about her future for herself and her young daughter. Set in the backyard of an upstanding woman of town, The Traveling Lady shows the ways of life in 1950s Texas. Running a little over ninety minutes, if you sat questioning if you missed some crucial information, you’re not wrong. Originally written as a play in three acts, this is an updated script from Foote. To make the play a modest length, information has been sliced and diced. The most noticeable plot hole is the speed in which Slim Murray, the brother of backyard’s owner, Clara Breedlove, falls for Georgette. Love at first sight is a thing but this was the least believable element in this realistic play. There are some other minor characters and their arcs that do not seem completely fleshed out, but it doesn’t alter the overall picture. Austin Pendleton directs this production unobtrusively. It’s simply stated. The characters are kindhearted. Pendleton doesn’t do anything out of the ordinary but honor Foote’s play. The stakes are generally minimal. Even in the moments of danger, with Henry and Mrs. Mavis’ disappearance, there was never a sense that it wouldn’t get resolved. To bring the world to life, scenic and lighting designer Harry Feiner used atmospheric lighting and an array of furniture to tell the story. The pleasant design did its job well for the tight stage. The only trouble was Pendleton’s use of the fourth wall. To add an extra entrance, he utilized the aisle in the audience. The rules of the stage were defined a bit strangely as there were moments were characters would conveniently not hear the conversation mere feet away. Kudos to those who saw the lightning bugs Feiner placed during the dusk scenes. With a play like this, atmosphere is essential. Sound designer Ryan Rumery’s soundscape allowed the silences to be filled naturally. When it came to styling the company, Theresa Squire allowed the garments to match the decade.
The charm of Horton Foote’s play is the kindness and authenticity of his characters. When the company found the hints of humor in Foote’s text, the play was alive. Leading the batch was Lynn Cohen and Karen Ziemba as mother-daughter combo Mrs. Mavis and Sitter Mavis respectively. Both Cohen and Ziemba were absolutely delightful. You almost wished the pair could have their own spin-off. Supporting characters often have more freedom to be the comic reliefs of the story. The Mavises were those here. Georgette Thomas is a highly emotional character. Jean Lichty played right into the emotions. And it often was unvaried. Then again, Georgette is quite high-strung throughout. As Slim, Larry Bull’s allure was subtle yet affective. The Slim and Georgette plot line is a defining force in this play and Bull defined why it was prominent.
From a modern lens, there are some interesting takeaways in Horton Foote’s The Traveling Lady. You can look at it as a period piece about a strong woman’s independence. It would help explain why this play now. The Traveling Lady is a safe production where you know exactly what you’re getting. And sometimes, that’s just fine.
Horton Foote is a master of depicting life naturally. With a wealth of plays, audiences seem to be drawn to his work. Foote’s The Traveling Lady returns to the stage in a briefer production at the Cherry Lane Theatre. Directed by Austin Pendleton, The Traveling Lady is simply put, fine.
The Traveling Lady tells the story of Georgette Thomas who travels to a small Texas town upon the release of her husband from prison. When she arrives, she learns that the truth she believed is not quite reality as her husband, Henry, a man of notorious reputation, has already been released for some time. Learning about the kindness of strangers, Georgette must make a decision about her future for herself and her young daughter. Set in the backyard of an upstanding woman of town, The Traveling Lady shows the ways of life in 1950s Texas. Running a little over ninety minutes, if you sat questioning if you missed some crucial information, you’re not wrong. Originally written as a play in three acts, this is an updated script from Foote. To make the play a modest length, information has been sliced and diced. The most noticeable plot hole is the speed in which Slim Murray, the brother of backyard’s owner, Clara Breedlove, falls for Georgette. Love at first sight is a thing but this was the least believable element in this realistic play. There are some other minor characters and their arcs that do not seem completely fleshed out, but it doesn’t alter the overall picture. Austin Pendleton directs this production unobtrusively. It’s simply stated. The characters are kindhearted. Pendleton doesn’t do anything out of the ordinary but honor Foote’s play. The stakes are generally minimal. Even in the moments of danger, with Henry and Mrs. Mavis’ disappearance, there was never a sense that it wouldn’t get resolved. To bring the world to life, scenic and lighting designer Harry Feiner used atmospheric lighting and an array of furniture to tell the story. The pleasant design did its job well for the tight stage. The only trouble was Pendleton’s use of the fourth wall. To add an extra entrance, he utilized the aisle in the audience. The rules of the stage were defined a bit strangely as there were moments were characters would conveniently not hear the conversation mere feet away. Kudos to those who saw the lightning bugs Feiner placed during the dusk scenes. With a play like this, atmosphere is essential. Sound designer Ryan Rumery’s soundscape allowed the silences to be filled naturally. When it came to styling the company, Theresa Squire allowed the garments to match the decade.
![]() |
photo by Carol Rosegg |
From a modern lens, there are some interesting takeaways in Horton Foote’s The Traveling Lady. You can look at it as a period piece about a strong woman’s independence. It would help explain why this play now. The Traveling Lady is a safe production where you know exactly what you’re getting. And sometimes, that’s just fine.
Friday, June 23, 2017
Review: Sex, Tom Jones, and Rock 'n' Roll
By Michael Block
Ah yes, "Tom Jones", the infamous novel written by Henry Fielding. Certainly, this is the perfect source material for a vintage-inspired, modern rock musical-slash-sex romp. Right? Well, that’s a debate for another day. The Cell has given a home to Bastard Jones, a brand-new musical inspired by Fielding’s comedy, in another attempt to master the classic. With book by Marc Acito, music by Amy Engelhardt, and lyrics by Acito and Engelhardt, Bastard Jones is a jumble of joy on a long journey to completion.
Tom Jones is a bastard, as the title says. In lighter terms, he’s called a foundling, as the identity of his parentage is in question. Tom is pure of heart and full of trouble. Oh, and he loves the ladies. Having devoted a life to Allworthy, his guardian and the man who raised him, Tom tries to do good despite the plethora of temptation standing in his way, including a soon-to-be knocked up peasant girl named Molly, Reverend Shepherd’s daughter Sophia, and the ravishing Lady Bellaston. Through farcical comedy and a rocking score, Tom Jones is on a mission to find himself and his true identity. But will lineage matter when you grow up to be who you are? Marc Acito’s is nothing short of ambitious. He infuses a blend of modern tongue spattered within the heightened text. And there’s no shortage of raunchy humor and sex jokes. Acito has proven that anything can be turned into a sex joke. With an exuberant amount of word play and double entendre, Bastard Jones, still slimmer than its source material, goes on and on. Acito has room to snip away at the fluff to expose the true meat of the material. The score, overall, is quite strong. Acito and Engelhardt provide a raucous good-time through music. It’s hard for a new musical to leave the audience with ear-worm worthy songs, but Bastard Jones does that with ease. Whether it’s the big opener of “Pursuit of Happiness,” the buddy ditty “Nil Desperandum,” the sultry tuner “Have Another Oyster, Dear,” or the power ballad to end all power ballads “I Must Away,” Acito and Engelhardt has a score to be remembered.
Once Acito can match the book to the music, Bastard Jones is ready for the next level. To do so, it might be best to bring in a new eye in the director’s chair. Without a doubt, Acito utilized some innovative staging within the confines of the uniquely difficult space of The Cell. Between the alcove and the second level, Acito played with the entirety of the improvised theater. By adding a trio of doors to hammer home the farcical fun and overload of fabric, Acito created more architecture for the characters to explore. With all this in mind, why does Acito need to tag out as director? The focus on the development of the book was clearly lacking. As the book writer, Acito can easily write in his desires for the staging for a future director to interpret and incorporate. Costume designer Siena Zoe Allen played with modern attire with hints of Georgian era fashion. Like Acito’s usage of found items, Allen mirrored Acito and played with nonsensical items to create costumes, like a basket as a pregnancy belly. With a fairly neutral canvas to light, Gertjan Houben threw hints of color to break up the world through the diversity of color.
The company of Bastard Jones was a game to play and tackle nearly all the primary roles from the source material. With mostly neutral accents, some of the characters took on a tinge of an affectation. From top to bottom, this was a stellar ensemble. To play Tom Jones, you need the right actor and Evan Ruggiero is just that. Ruggiero exudes charm and charisma. He may be referred to as a Hellborn he-whore, but Ruggiero’s Tom Jones is a hunk of a hero. Since it is incorporated into the staging, Ruggiero lost part of his leg to bone cancer and performs with a peg leg. But don’t for a second think this will stop him. There is nothing that this young man can’t do. He taps better than most! The role of Tom Jones was seemingly written for a rock tenor. The score soars high. There were moments during the performance that I attended that you could noticeably see Ruggiero’s lips didn’t quite match the sound of the voice. Due to some sickness on the actor’s part, some of the supporting cast stepped in to hit those unfortunate high notes for Ruggiero as to not lose the integrity of Engelhardt’s score. Especially during the group numbers, it made little sense dramaturgically to have someone else on stage sing some moments, but when you’re in a pickle, you have to make it work, and the team did. Elena Wong as Sophia was a perky ingĂ©nue that dominated the comedy. She was plucky and bright with a standout vocal performance. Crystal Lucas-Perry has regality in her tone. As one of the few who gender-bended, Lucas-Perry did whatever was needed until her shining moment as Lady Bellaston. It was easy to steal the show with this over-the-top material and Cheryl Stern and Rene Ruiz did so at every opportunity.
The future is bright for Bastard Jones. It’s going to take a little polish and finesse to get there, but don’t expect to see the last of it. There is certainly something special about this winning production, and it may be its unabashed approach. If Evan Ruggiero is attached to the show, expect a prosperous future.
Ah yes, "Tom Jones", the infamous novel written by Henry Fielding. Certainly, this is the perfect source material for a vintage-inspired, modern rock musical-slash-sex romp. Right? Well, that’s a debate for another day. The Cell has given a home to Bastard Jones, a brand-new musical inspired by Fielding’s comedy, in another attempt to master the classic. With book by Marc Acito, music by Amy Engelhardt, and lyrics by Acito and Engelhardt, Bastard Jones is a jumble of joy on a long journey to completion.
Tom Jones is a bastard, as the title says. In lighter terms, he’s called a foundling, as the identity of his parentage is in question. Tom is pure of heart and full of trouble. Oh, and he loves the ladies. Having devoted a life to Allworthy, his guardian and the man who raised him, Tom tries to do good despite the plethora of temptation standing in his way, including a soon-to-be knocked up peasant girl named Molly, Reverend Shepherd’s daughter Sophia, and the ravishing Lady Bellaston. Through farcical comedy and a rocking score, Tom Jones is on a mission to find himself and his true identity. But will lineage matter when you grow up to be who you are? Marc Acito’s is nothing short of ambitious. He infuses a blend of modern tongue spattered within the heightened text. And there’s no shortage of raunchy humor and sex jokes. Acito has proven that anything can be turned into a sex joke. With an exuberant amount of word play and double entendre, Bastard Jones, still slimmer than its source material, goes on and on. Acito has room to snip away at the fluff to expose the true meat of the material. The score, overall, is quite strong. Acito and Engelhardt provide a raucous good-time through music. It’s hard for a new musical to leave the audience with ear-worm worthy songs, but Bastard Jones does that with ease. Whether it’s the big opener of “Pursuit of Happiness,” the buddy ditty “Nil Desperandum,” the sultry tuner “Have Another Oyster, Dear,” or the power ballad to end all power ballads “I Must Away,” Acito and Engelhardt has a score to be remembered.
![]() |
photo by Carol Rosegg |
The company of Bastard Jones was a game to play and tackle nearly all the primary roles from the source material. With mostly neutral accents, some of the characters took on a tinge of an affectation. From top to bottom, this was a stellar ensemble. To play Tom Jones, you need the right actor and Evan Ruggiero is just that. Ruggiero exudes charm and charisma. He may be referred to as a Hellborn he-whore, but Ruggiero’s Tom Jones is a hunk of a hero. Since it is incorporated into the staging, Ruggiero lost part of his leg to bone cancer and performs with a peg leg. But don’t for a second think this will stop him. There is nothing that this young man can’t do. He taps better than most! The role of Tom Jones was seemingly written for a rock tenor. The score soars high. There were moments during the performance that I attended that you could noticeably see Ruggiero’s lips didn’t quite match the sound of the voice. Due to some sickness on the actor’s part, some of the supporting cast stepped in to hit those unfortunate high notes for Ruggiero as to not lose the integrity of Engelhardt’s score. Especially during the group numbers, it made little sense dramaturgically to have someone else on stage sing some moments, but when you’re in a pickle, you have to make it work, and the team did. Elena Wong as Sophia was a perky ingĂ©nue that dominated the comedy. She was plucky and bright with a standout vocal performance. Crystal Lucas-Perry has regality in her tone. As one of the few who gender-bended, Lucas-Perry did whatever was needed until her shining moment as Lady Bellaston. It was easy to steal the show with this over-the-top material and Cheryl Stern and Rene Ruiz did so at every opportunity.
The future is bright for Bastard Jones. It’s going to take a little polish and finesse to get there, but don’t expect to see the last of it. There is certainly something special about this winning production, and it may be its unabashed approach. If Evan Ruggiero is attached to the show, expect a prosperous future.
Tuesday, June 20, 2017
Review: War, As Told Through Poetry
By Michael Block
As the program notes, Death Comes for the War Poets grapples with the full horror of trench warfare through the eyes, and words, of Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen. In addition to the Spirit of Death. The piece is also described as a dramatic verse tapestry. These are key bits of information to keep in mind before the lights go down. Playing the Sheen Center, Death Comes for the War Poets by Joseph Pearce can best be described as impenetrable in content but a wonder to the eye.
Performed as a series of poetic movements, Death Comes for the War Poets is very much a language play. Through the perspective of Sassoon and Owen, Joseph Pearce weaves their words, alongside some of the finest Christian voices of the modern era, to depict the reality of war. Death Comes for the War Poets is not an autobiographical piece about Siegfried Sassoon. It’s not a retrospective of his work. Essentially, it’s just an exploration of poetry as performed by a trio of proficient actors curated by the author. There is certainly a strong perspective in the narrative that Pearce weaves, and yet it still feels pigeonholed. Curiously, this is not a play where the sole focus is the words of the two main poets. Pearce intersects their text with some from other related poets. Cameos if you will. Dramaturgically, you have to figure out why as it’s not supported in the text. And if it is? Then it’s deep down there. That being said, if you dissect the piece and look at each movement on their own, you may find some richness in the words.
If poetry isn’t your forte, this was an excellent showcase for the trio on stage. Capturing the essence of the poets, each actor brought a variety of emotion and physicality upon the stage. Capturing the hardships of war through the eyes of Sassoon, Nicholas Carriere was a beacon of hope against the backdrop of terror. Carriere gave Sassoon a confidence, which allowed Sassoon to accept his fate each time he was visited by Death. As his comrade Wilfred Owen, Michael Raver’s dynamic performance left you begging for more. Raver has a poise about him that is alluring. Both Carriere and Raver had a basis in which to craft their performance. Sarah Naughton did not. Personifying death can be tricky and yet Naughton, for lack of a better term, slayed. Naughton’s Death was captivating and engaging. She had a mystery about her that, knowing what comes with her presence, was even more enticing. There was a delicacy to her performance as she danced her through the piece. Sassoon and Owen truly did a remarkable job dancing with death.
Throw this script in a small theater with a budget of nothing and it’ll likely suffer. Thankfully, that was not this production. To say the staging was ambitious is an understatement. Director Peter Dobbins played the spectacle card to ensure elation. Along with his design team, Dobbins took some giant risks, not all of which paid off. First and foremost, Dobbins made this an intimate production despite the grandeur. Dobbins placed the audience on two sides of the giant planed cross that stood high above the ground. Flanked by two stone structures, one of which served as the projection surface, Connor W. Munion’s scenic design was certainly brazen. Munion gave Dobbins the tools he would need to stage it but with the inclusion of wondrous projection design by Joey Moro, you often didn’t know what the focus was supposed to be on. The precision to which Moro used Munion’s slate was extraordinary. It elevated the look of the show. But no matter where you were seated, if Dobbins had his players on the opposite side of the stage from the projection, the projections always won out. They just happened to be a tad more interesting to the eye. Yes, there were certainly moments where Dobbins guided the stage picture to appreciate both, but they were few and far between. Costume designer Jennipher Pacheco dressed the gentlemen in period wear but brought her creativity out for Death. Exploring a Black Swan like attire for most of the evening, it paired well with the balletic motion of the character. Kenneth Goodwin’s sound design fit the explosive nature of a battlefield. It almost played like an underscore at times.
Not every piece for the stage has to be a well-structured, plot-driven production. This show certainly isn’t. Had an exceptional cast and a stunningly beautiful design not aided Death Comes for the War Poets, it may have been hard to sit through.
As the program notes, Death Comes for the War Poets grapples with the full horror of trench warfare through the eyes, and words, of Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen. In addition to the Spirit of Death. The piece is also described as a dramatic verse tapestry. These are key bits of information to keep in mind before the lights go down. Playing the Sheen Center, Death Comes for the War Poets by Joseph Pearce can best be described as impenetrable in content but a wonder to the eye.
Performed as a series of poetic movements, Death Comes for the War Poets is very much a language play. Through the perspective of Sassoon and Owen, Joseph Pearce weaves their words, alongside some of the finest Christian voices of the modern era, to depict the reality of war. Death Comes for the War Poets is not an autobiographical piece about Siegfried Sassoon. It’s not a retrospective of his work. Essentially, it’s just an exploration of poetry as performed by a trio of proficient actors curated by the author. There is certainly a strong perspective in the narrative that Pearce weaves, and yet it still feels pigeonholed. Curiously, this is not a play where the sole focus is the words of the two main poets. Pearce intersects their text with some from other related poets. Cameos if you will. Dramaturgically, you have to figure out why as it’s not supported in the text. And if it is? Then it’s deep down there. That being said, if you dissect the piece and look at each movement on their own, you may find some richness in the words.
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photo by Michael Abrams |
Throw this script in a small theater with a budget of nothing and it’ll likely suffer. Thankfully, that was not this production. To say the staging was ambitious is an understatement. Director Peter Dobbins played the spectacle card to ensure elation. Along with his design team, Dobbins took some giant risks, not all of which paid off. First and foremost, Dobbins made this an intimate production despite the grandeur. Dobbins placed the audience on two sides of the giant planed cross that stood high above the ground. Flanked by two stone structures, one of which served as the projection surface, Connor W. Munion’s scenic design was certainly brazen. Munion gave Dobbins the tools he would need to stage it but with the inclusion of wondrous projection design by Joey Moro, you often didn’t know what the focus was supposed to be on. The precision to which Moro used Munion’s slate was extraordinary. It elevated the look of the show. But no matter where you were seated, if Dobbins had his players on the opposite side of the stage from the projection, the projections always won out. They just happened to be a tad more interesting to the eye. Yes, there were certainly moments where Dobbins guided the stage picture to appreciate both, but they were few and far between. Costume designer Jennipher Pacheco dressed the gentlemen in period wear but brought her creativity out for Death. Exploring a Black Swan like attire for most of the evening, it paired well with the balletic motion of the character. Kenneth Goodwin’s sound design fit the explosive nature of a battlefield. It almost played like an underscore at times.
Not every piece for the stage has to be a well-structured, plot-driven production. This show certainly isn’t. Had an exceptional cast and a stunningly beautiful design not aided Death Comes for the War Poets, it may have been hard to sit through.
Monday, June 19, 2017
Review: America the Dangerous
By Ed Malin
Joshua Young, President of The Playwriting Collective, is writer and director of the play Father Daughter as part This Is Not Normal: An Arts and Activism Festival at The Brick Theater. The play stars John Carhart and Briana Femia. The play was previously seen last year at Planet Connections Theatre Festivity, another forum for socially conscious plays. I had the pleasure of seeing this play on Father’s Day, at the end of a week in which, sadly, gun violence sometimes appeared higher in the headlines than the buffoonery of our commander in chief.
The play opens with a phone call, which is a matter of life and death. A college student daughter is standing on one side of the stage, her hand covering a bleeding wound in her lower abdomen. Her father stands on the other side, so glad to be speaking with his daughter and trying to be optimistic about getting her to safety. She was eating in the school cafeteria when she felt like she had been punched in the stomach. She had been shot, and, now that she recollects, so had her nearby friends. She is calling her father from a quiet closet, where she is taking shelter from the onslaught of the unknown shooters.
As her father watches on the news, the police have not yet gained access to campus. There indeed seem to be multiple shooters and bombers trying to kill students and prevent anyone from escaping. The father talks his daughter through the best ways to keep herself safe, conscious and, hopefully, alive. While they talk, the daughter asks her father questions that she dared not ask before. What happened when her father rushed to her mother in the hospital as she lay dying? Why didn’t they tell their daughter to jump on a plane and rush home? During the daughter’s childhood, was there something dishonest about the parents’ relationship? Most haunting is the daughter’s insinuation that her father is lying to her now, just to calm her down. However, the heightened tension gives the two the chance to get to know each other as adults.
“Nobody likes who they are at 20,” muses the father, “except assholes.”
“Did you?” asks the daughter.
“I managed to be an asshole and still not like myself,” he quips.
I like the way the father takes charge of the situation. Perhaps he is trying to make up for mistakes made in his marriage. It’s like bootcamp. It is nerve-wracking. There are plenty of reversals. And the play ends before we know the ending, so I am not going to give more away.
Carhart and Femia convincingly show how a father-daughter relationship survives latent periods and re-activates when called for. This was a tense and well-directed story of what is probably every parent’s worst nightmare. Still, I understand that over the weekend, a major network is gave airtime to Alex Jones, someone who believes that the Sandy Hook school shooting never happened and that all related media coverage is a conspiracy to limit gun rights. I am glad we have plays such as Father Daughter to keep our consciences flexed to protect our children.
Joshua Young, President of The Playwriting Collective, is writer and director of the play Father Daughter as part This Is Not Normal: An Arts and Activism Festival at The Brick Theater. The play stars John Carhart and Briana Femia. The play was previously seen last year at Planet Connections Theatre Festivity, another forum for socially conscious plays. I had the pleasure of seeing this play on Father’s Day, at the end of a week in which, sadly, gun violence sometimes appeared higher in the headlines than the buffoonery of our commander in chief.
The play opens with a phone call, which is a matter of life and death. A college student daughter is standing on one side of the stage, her hand covering a bleeding wound in her lower abdomen. Her father stands on the other side, so glad to be speaking with his daughter and trying to be optimistic about getting her to safety. She was eating in the school cafeteria when she felt like she had been punched in the stomach. She had been shot, and, now that she recollects, so had her nearby friends. She is calling her father from a quiet closet, where she is taking shelter from the onslaught of the unknown shooters.
![]() |
Photo courtesy of The Brick |
“Nobody likes who they are at 20,” muses the father, “except assholes.”
“Did you?” asks the daughter.
“I managed to be an asshole and still not like myself,” he quips.
I like the way the father takes charge of the situation. Perhaps he is trying to make up for mistakes made in his marriage. It’s like bootcamp. It is nerve-wracking. There are plenty of reversals. And the play ends before we know the ending, so I am not going to give more away.
Carhart and Femia convincingly show how a father-daughter relationship survives latent periods and re-activates when called for. This was a tense and well-directed story of what is probably every parent’s worst nightmare. Still, I understand that over the weekend, a major network is gave airtime to Alex Jones, someone who believes that the Sandy Hook school shooting never happened and that all related media coverage is a conspiracy to limit gun rights. I am glad we have plays such as Father Daughter to keep our consciences flexed to protect our children.
Review: Enjoy the Silence
By Ed Malin
This Is Normal is Matthew Freeman’s contribution to This Is Not Normal: An Arts and Activism Festival at The Brick Theater. Freeman is a tireless innovator, so perhaps I wasn’t surprised when the festival program described this work as “an opportunity for silent observation of real people in a real place in real time. It is a no-media environment and it’s BYOC (Bring Your Own Context.)” And then I entered the theater and noticed on the program “This Is Normal a play”.
The descriptions are all correct, and the event is beautiful. What follows are only my observations. I saw the show after the Mac Rogers-Rebecca Comtois double-hander God of Obsidian, the context of which is hard to abandon. Given the theme of the festival and the preponderance of xenophobic rhetoric in the brain of one man who lives in a nice house in Washington D.C., I give Freeman credit for putting a diverse group of people on stage. Diversity is normal. Women seem to be leading the resistance, both in "Star Wars" and in the U.S.A. Here in New York, public schools are closed for the Eid holiday for the first time ever. It would be great to remind the world that difference is normal, and that confronting people with people is the real way for us to get to know each other.
Acting is not normal. This is something that the show’s narrator, David DelGrosso, knows a lot about and that I am sure most spectators forget. The only words in the piece were the introductory blurbs about each performer, read off of note cards. Then, the five performers did what they would normally do. What would I do? Maybe turn my back in terror? Perhaps my knowing that Eugene Lee is (or might be) a creative photographer helps me understand his restless stance, his desire to turn his folding chair over and lounge on the ground, and his uncurling his hair. Kieran Baldwin sat patiently and peacefully. Stephanie Daniels, a fundraiser, seemed to radiate a vast knowledge of everything imaginable. Caroline Sharman, a private tutor, wore very nice shoes and leaned confidently against the Brick Theater’s wall, the nice brick texture of which I had ample time to appreciate. Pablo de Rosas, a technology guy, seemed lost in troubling thoughts, a state of mind I would perhaps be shocked to see on the face of a fellow subway passenger. Maybe that’s why confessionals don’t come with spotlights. What other places in the world are safe places?
While watching the event and listening to the sound of air conditioning, I felt somewhat uncomfortable watching people who were uncomfortable. I thought of Yoko Ono’s classic “Cut Piece” (where she sat still as folks in the audience were invited to approach her and snip away pieces of her clothing). When I watch the video of “Cut Piece”, I feel as though the spectators who enjoy objectifying Yoko are being indicted. I didn’t try to interact with the cast of This Is Normal, but by being their audience, I did. With director Freeman’s help, they did not respond with faces they thought I might want to see, or by swapping identities the way Laura Linney and Cynthia Nixon are now doing on Broadway in The Little Foxes. No, these five people were giving the audience a chance to really look, if it was not too scary, and to really listen, the way John Cage asked people to do with the silent composition “Four minutes thirty-three seconds”.
This Is Normal is Matthew Freeman’s contribution to This Is Not Normal: An Arts and Activism Festival at The Brick Theater. Freeman is a tireless innovator, so perhaps I wasn’t surprised when the festival program described this work as “an opportunity for silent observation of real people in a real place in real time. It is a no-media environment and it’s BYOC (Bring Your Own Context.)” And then I entered the theater and noticed on the program “This Is Normal a play”.
The descriptions are all correct, and the event is beautiful. What follows are only my observations. I saw the show after the Mac Rogers-Rebecca Comtois double-hander God of Obsidian, the context of which is hard to abandon. Given the theme of the festival and the preponderance of xenophobic rhetoric in the brain of one man who lives in a nice house in Washington D.C., I give Freeman credit for putting a diverse group of people on stage. Diversity is normal. Women seem to be leading the resistance, both in "Star Wars" and in the U.S.A. Here in New York, public schools are closed for the Eid holiday for the first time ever. It would be great to remind the world that difference is normal, and that confronting people with people is the real way for us to get to know each other.
![]() |
photo courtesy of The Brick |
While watching the event and listening to the sound of air conditioning, I felt somewhat uncomfortable watching people who were uncomfortable. I thought of Yoko Ono’s classic “Cut Piece” (where she sat still as folks in the audience were invited to approach her and snip away pieces of her clothing). When I watch the video of “Cut Piece”, I feel as though the spectators who enjoy objectifying Yoko are being indicted. I didn’t try to interact with the cast of This Is Normal, but by being their audience, I did. With director Freeman’s help, they did not respond with faces they thought I might want to see, or by swapping identities the way Laura Linney and Cynthia Nixon are now doing on Broadway in The Little Foxes. No, these five people were giving the audience a chance to really look, if it was not too scary, and to really listen, the way John Cage asked people to do with the silent composition “Four minutes thirty-three seconds”.
Review: If Loving You Is Wrong, I Don't Wanna Be Right
By Ed Malin
Gideon Productions presents God of Obsidian by Mac Rogers as part This Is Not Normal: An Arts and Activism Festival at The Brick Theater. The play stars Mac Rogers and Rebecca Comtois and is directed by Jordana Williams. The long-time collaborators have just taken the show to the Cincinnati Fringe Festival and are back for a few possibly sold-out performances in NYC.
Have you ever heard the mystical Jewish saying “The whole world is a very narrow bridge”? You will see a narrow bridge onstage here. It makes up most of the set, which is designed by Sandy Yaklin. The bridge happens to come between the rest of the world and the snug house owned by Nathan (Rogers), to which he is bringing Alice (Comtois) as our story opens. Some people have f@ck!ng lawns, which they have to mow, but Nathan has this interesting bridge over a chasm. Nathan is a striking dude, who might be the proverbial “most interesting man in the world” if he spent a lot of time in the outside world. His house is his castle, and he is a little protective, like Bluebeard, but he is not that kind of tyrant. He and Alice are beginning a romance. He wants to protect her. He tells her he has just gotten a big chunk of capital, which he wants to share with Alice in honor of her birthday. Would Alice consider quitting her job and taking six months or a year to just take care of herself? It sounds like a sweet deal. He even couches the luxury of this request in terms that Alice may indeed come to believe prove that they thought of this plan together. Have you ever heard of gaslighting? No, it’s not some ancient theatrical technique. There’s someone in the White House who does it a lot. Gaslighting is when one talks to people in a way that makes them doubt their sanity and the truth of their recollections. A manipulative man might then move on to persuade such people that only he has the truth, the plan, the power that will make everything all right.
When she moved in with Nathan, Alice was telling him about her friends, who just started a relationship and left her as a third wheel. Alice would still like to see her friends, and to bring Nathan along. Nathan subtly posits, as he did when talking about Alice’s former career, that some people just want to waste your time, but, if you say no to them and yes to yourself, you can take your life back. Nathan is neutral or smiling when he says such things, so why does Alice look so sick? Why is she trembling? Is she really incapable of crossing the bridge to go shopping? Nathan even convinces her that it’s more efficient to order clothes and send them back until you find the right size than to venture out to a store.
If you have encountered Mac Rogers the stage and podcast writer, you may be surprised at his smooth-talking acting skills. Rebecca Comtois has played a number of heroines opposite Mac Rogers and in Gideon plays in general, but not like this. The power play within the play is at first undetectable, then becomes the basis of an agonizingly good cautionary tale, nicely darkened by Morgan Zipf-Meister's lighting design, Jordana Williams shows yet again that she can bring such characters to a state of crisis in less than an hour if needed. On the way home, I looked over my shoulder to make sure my surveillance-minded ex-girlfriend from Hades wasn’t shadowing me.
In the program notes, the playwright explains the title as a reference to the Aztec god Tezcatlipoca – the god of night winds, discord and obsidian – who entrapped a great crocodile called Cipacti and distorted her body to make the land he walked on. The play will probably make you feel a lot of anguish, or bring up bad memories, or make you want to help people you know are being manipulated. There is also the implication that media manipulation (during our usual sadistic general elections and now, under the current sh!thead of state) is as bad as it is pervasive.
Just for some closure, the full mystical quote from Rabbi Nachman of Breslov (1772-1810) is “The whole world is a very narrow bridge. The important thing is not to be afraid at all.” It may be tempting to let someone else rule your life. It may feel like a security blanket, or a strait jacket.
Alice’s ultimate response to Nathan is so brilliant, so strong and yet so broken, so logically sound and so rich in technology and other things that bullies try to take away from the masses. It is clear to me why this play was acclaimed at the Cincinnati Fringe and offered an encore performance there. Interestingly, the cast declined as they had to escape back to NYC to perform at the Brick. I wonder if a bridge was involved.
Gideon Productions presents God of Obsidian by Mac Rogers as part This Is Not Normal: An Arts and Activism Festival at The Brick Theater. The play stars Mac Rogers and Rebecca Comtois and is directed by Jordana Williams. The long-time collaborators have just taken the show to the Cincinnati Fringe Festival and are back for a few possibly sold-out performances in NYC.
Have you ever heard the mystical Jewish saying “The whole world is a very narrow bridge”? You will see a narrow bridge onstage here. It makes up most of the set, which is designed by Sandy Yaklin. The bridge happens to come between the rest of the world and the snug house owned by Nathan (Rogers), to which he is bringing Alice (Comtois) as our story opens. Some people have f@ck!ng lawns, which they have to mow, but Nathan has this interesting bridge over a chasm. Nathan is a striking dude, who might be the proverbial “most interesting man in the world” if he spent a lot of time in the outside world. His house is his castle, and he is a little protective, like Bluebeard, but he is not that kind of tyrant. He and Alice are beginning a romance. He wants to protect her. He tells her he has just gotten a big chunk of capital, which he wants to share with Alice in honor of her birthday. Would Alice consider quitting her job and taking six months or a year to just take care of herself? It sounds like a sweet deal. He even couches the luxury of this request in terms that Alice may indeed come to believe prove that they thought of this plan together. Have you ever heard of gaslighting? No, it’s not some ancient theatrical technique. There’s someone in the White House who does it a lot. Gaslighting is when one talks to people in a way that makes them doubt their sanity and the truth of their recollections. A manipulative man might then move on to persuade such people that only he has the truth, the plan, the power that will make everything all right.
![]() |
photo courtesy of The Brick |
If you have encountered Mac Rogers the stage and podcast writer, you may be surprised at his smooth-talking acting skills. Rebecca Comtois has played a number of heroines opposite Mac Rogers and in Gideon plays in general, but not like this. The power play within the play is at first undetectable, then becomes the basis of an agonizingly good cautionary tale, nicely darkened by Morgan Zipf-Meister's lighting design, Jordana Williams shows yet again that she can bring such characters to a state of crisis in less than an hour if needed. On the way home, I looked over my shoulder to make sure my surveillance-minded ex-girlfriend from Hades wasn’t shadowing me.
In the program notes, the playwright explains the title as a reference to the Aztec god Tezcatlipoca – the god of night winds, discord and obsidian – who entrapped a great crocodile called Cipacti and distorted her body to make the land he walked on. The play will probably make you feel a lot of anguish, or bring up bad memories, or make you want to help people you know are being manipulated. There is also the implication that media manipulation (during our usual sadistic general elections and now, under the current sh!thead of state) is as bad as it is pervasive.
Just for some closure, the full mystical quote from Rabbi Nachman of Breslov (1772-1810) is “The whole world is a very narrow bridge. The important thing is not to be afraid at all.” It may be tempting to let someone else rule your life. It may feel like a security blanket, or a strait jacket.
Alice’s ultimate response to Nathan is so brilliant, so strong and yet so broken, so logically sound and so rich in technology and other things that bullies try to take away from the masses. It is clear to me why this play was acclaimed at the Cincinnati Fringe and offered an encore performance there. Interestingly, the cast declined as they had to escape back to NYC to perform at the Brick. I wonder if a bridge was involved.
Friday, June 16, 2017
Review: Grief Heals If It Doesn't Kill You
By Ed Malin
Grief may push us out of our comfort zone, or intensify our inertia, or make us feel that life is even more meaningless, or drive us to drink, or allow us to see new connections in the universe. Yes, and.
Go Get The Axe is the first full-length play offering from FIG Productions (whose name stands for "Fear Is Good”). Over the past year and a half, James L. Menzies wrote the play, an expansion of several shorter pieces created through the vibrant downtown company Amios’s monthly Shotz! productions. Director Richard C. Aven guides the cast of 12 through their non-linear, perhaps therapeutically circular, adventure in many modes of being. I learned a lot about the genesis of the piece through a recently-posted podcast from several of the creative leads.
I also learned that the title of the piece references a well-known folk song with whimsically random lyrics. But, sometimes, don’t seemingly unrelated things, even loss of loved ones, bring people together? At the top of the show, a member of the Drinkwine family sees several unidentified persons wearing white hospital gowns walking around a room, next to a sliding door. When the door opens, we see a huge ascending staircase and a neon sign which proclaims “Parly Gates”. From this tantalizing bit of information, we jump between the lives of several Drinkwine siblings, who may be estranged from each other or have their own troubles, all for good, realistic reasons, which we may gradually discover from context. Despite the David Lynch-like jumps between stories, and priceless dream statements to the effect that playwright David Mamet wrote a script for “Back to the Future” but it wasn’t as good (as the one we know in this world), the dialogue comes off as quite realistic. If someone knows what they’re talking about, they don’t spend time on exposition. You have to beat it out of them. We do see some characters explaining their behavior, such as Tommy Tanner (Jay Ben Markson) a student being punished for a violent outburst, or Maeve Drinkwine (Lisa Kitchens) an unkempt employee called to the boss’s office to be terminated. In turn, we see the boss, Strother Van Allen (Terrence Montgomery), reveal that his worldly success has made him more sad than anything else. Consciousness of absurdity helps these characters open up. Drew Nungesser’s sound design includes lively soul music (pun intended?) that gives us some knowledge of the characters’ mental states.
Doctor Martin Gaskins (Robert Robinson) who is Tommy’s French teacher, realizes that Tommy is dealing with the loss of someone close to him. However, when Tommy hurls a racial epithet at his teacher and further insults the memory of the teacher’s deceased son, Martin smashes some office furniture with a baseball bat. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that happen onstage. It was preceded by a polite conversation in French (with English supertitles) which was delivered in hostile tones.
Jessica Drinkwine (Leigh Williams) calls her brother Jim (Christopher Halladay) to tell him that his baby sister has died. Jessica leaves multiple voice mails for her estranged brother, who blames Jessica for the death of their mother, Susan. Ian Friedman’s video design fills in some of the chronology such as Jerry Tanner’s (Michael Propster), who is Tommy’s father, beautiful courtship, marriage and loss. In the present, Jerry is not able to say much more than “do you have anything to declare?”
It seems that Jessica is connected to Strother Van Allen, her sister Maeve’s employer. Archie Windows (Eric Michael Gillett) approaches Jessica in a bar and reveals that he knows quite a lot about her. Such happenings help move the play back to Tommy Tanner and a comet which he has claimed is coming to smash the planet. But, to remain expansive and optimistic, I should mention that Archie is not the dissipated alcoholic he might appear to be. He may have bartered for the ability to spend thirty minutes with someone who has died. More beautiful video and music help the Drinkwines and those close to them come to terms with what has happened.
This impressive play isn’t straightforward, but neither are most interesting people. Alcoholism, overcoming fear of blood by painting with one’s own blood, storing a noose in one's office drawer, and other means of avoidance are slowly removed to reveal a multi-faceted picture of a family. It’s the kind of show which doesn’t have a main character, and which calls for great performances from the entire ensemble. I applaud James L. Menzies, Richard C. Aven and the cast for avoiding clichĂ© in their portrayal of young and old characters.
Grief may push us out of our comfort zone, or intensify our inertia, or make us feel that life is even more meaningless, or drive us to drink, or allow us to see new connections in the universe. Yes, and.
Go Get The Axe is the first full-length play offering from FIG Productions (whose name stands for "Fear Is Good”). Over the past year and a half, James L. Menzies wrote the play, an expansion of several shorter pieces created through the vibrant downtown company Amios’s monthly Shotz! productions. Director Richard C. Aven guides the cast of 12 through their non-linear, perhaps therapeutically circular, adventure in many modes of being. I learned a lot about the genesis of the piece through a recently-posted podcast from several of the creative leads.
I also learned that the title of the piece references a well-known folk song with whimsically random lyrics. But, sometimes, don’t seemingly unrelated things, even loss of loved ones, bring people together? At the top of the show, a member of the Drinkwine family sees several unidentified persons wearing white hospital gowns walking around a room, next to a sliding door. When the door opens, we see a huge ascending staircase and a neon sign which proclaims “Parly Gates”. From this tantalizing bit of information, we jump between the lives of several Drinkwine siblings, who may be estranged from each other or have their own troubles, all for good, realistic reasons, which we may gradually discover from context. Despite the David Lynch-like jumps between stories, and priceless dream statements to the effect that playwright David Mamet wrote a script for “Back to the Future” but it wasn’t as good (as the one we know in this world), the dialogue comes off as quite realistic. If someone knows what they’re talking about, they don’t spend time on exposition. You have to beat it out of them. We do see some characters explaining their behavior, such as Tommy Tanner (Jay Ben Markson) a student being punished for a violent outburst, or Maeve Drinkwine (Lisa Kitchens) an unkempt employee called to the boss’s office to be terminated. In turn, we see the boss, Strother Van Allen (Terrence Montgomery), reveal that his worldly success has made him more sad than anything else. Consciousness of absurdity helps these characters open up. Drew Nungesser’s sound design includes lively soul music (pun intended?) that gives us some knowledge of the characters’ mental states.
![]() |
photo by Richard C. Aven |
Jessica Drinkwine (Leigh Williams) calls her brother Jim (Christopher Halladay) to tell him that his baby sister has died. Jessica leaves multiple voice mails for her estranged brother, who blames Jessica for the death of their mother, Susan. Ian Friedman’s video design fills in some of the chronology such as Jerry Tanner’s (Michael Propster), who is Tommy’s father, beautiful courtship, marriage and loss. In the present, Jerry is not able to say much more than “do you have anything to declare?”
It seems that Jessica is connected to Strother Van Allen, her sister Maeve’s employer. Archie Windows (Eric Michael Gillett) approaches Jessica in a bar and reveals that he knows quite a lot about her. Such happenings help move the play back to Tommy Tanner and a comet which he has claimed is coming to smash the planet. But, to remain expansive and optimistic, I should mention that Archie is not the dissipated alcoholic he might appear to be. He may have bartered for the ability to spend thirty minutes with someone who has died. More beautiful video and music help the Drinkwines and those close to them come to terms with what has happened.
This impressive play isn’t straightforward, but neither are most interesting people. Alcoholism, overcoming fear of blood by painting with one’s own blood, storing a noose in one's office drawer, and other means of avoidance are slowly removed to reveal a multi-faceted picture of a family. It’s the kind of show which doesn’t have a main character, and which calls for great performances from the entire ensemble. I applaud James L. Menzies, Richard C. Aven and the cast for avoiding clichĂ© in their portrayal of young and old characters.
Thursday, June 15, 2017
Review: Great Feminism Survives In Absurdity
By Ed Malin
Sometimes it’s not just the words, it’s how they slap you that leaves a lasting impression. The witty and enigmatic Kim Katzberg and Tom X. Chao have a new show entitled Hot For Feminist Theory Professor at The Brick as part of This Is Not Normal: An Arts and Action Festival. The language employed is hell on books like bell hooks. The onstage and video action are indeed hot, the kind of suggestive that you might not expect to find on the campus of the College of Low Hills.
As the 40-minute blitz opens, Professor Losstt-Keyes (Katzberg) is watching her feminist theory students present their thoughts on vaginas, of which we are only fortunate enough to catch one student’s poem on the “aboriginal paintings I found in my cave”. Dennis Quan of the Office of Pedagogy and Learning (Chao) enters, surprised to find that the room has been double-booked for Losstt-Keyes’s and his seminars. From Losstt-Keyes’s crushing handshake, it seems as though she likes Quan. They reminisce about a concert on campus several years ago, during which The Carnivore Killers played and frat boys started beating vegans. After that event, all campus concerts were banned, and it looks like Losstt-Keyes and Quan haven’t had much fun lately. However, Quan’s niceties earn him shoves and the threat of a restraining order from Losstt-Keyes. He only said that her dress reminded him of a spring day, in a painting by Klimt, which he had only seen in reproductions. “Do you get paid by the adjective?” Losstt-Keyes asks him harassingly, after she follows him to the faculty lounge. After much avoidance, she rubs up against his body. What if the Bursar were to walk in?
“Why do you narrate everything?” she asks in the way many scientific-minded men have been upbraided by women.
Ultimately, Quan is invited to Losstt-Keyes’s place, where he meets her cat, Susan B. Anthony Dollar. The two lonely academics share several kinds of intimacy, but I think the emotional kind was the most beautiful and fulfilling.
It is all quite absurd, which is why Quan constantly protests his entrapment by the patriarchy and why Losstt-Keyes takes these apologies as consent to abuse him. I think this is a very entertaining show from artists whose understatement is your gain. Feminism is, of course, vindicated. It’s 2017, for goodness sakes.
Sometimes it’s not just the words, it’s how they slap you that leaves a lasting impression. The witty and enigmatic Kim Katzberg and Tom X. Chao have a new show entitled Hot For Feminist Theory Professor at The Brick as part of This Is Not Normal: An Arts and Action Festival. The language employed is hell on books like bell hooks. The onstage and video action are indeed hot, the kind of suggestive that you might not expect to find on the campus of the College of Low Hills.
![]() |
photo by Matthew Kohn |
“Why do you narrate everything?” she asks in the way many scientific-minded men have been upbraided by women.
Ultimately, Quan is invited to Losstt-Keyes’s place, where he meets her cat, Susan B. Anthony Dollar. The two lonely academics share several kinds of intimacy, but I think the emotional kind was the most beautiful and fulfilling.
It is all quite absurd, which is why Quan constantly protests his entrapment by the patriarchy and why Losstt-Keyes takes these apologies as consent to abuse him. I think this is a very entertaining show from artists whose understatement is your gain. Feminism is, of course, vindicated. It’s 2017, for goodness sakes.
Wednesday, June 14, 2017
Block Talk- Episode 20- Sophie Moshofsky and Kaitlyn Farley
To listen to the episode, visit iTunes or SoundCloud.
And visit patreon.com/theaterinthenow to learn about becoming a PATRON of the website!
Review: Agoraphobia Meets Addiction
By Michael Block
The fascination of the human mind is ripe for exploration in art. But how to depict it is the true test. Presented by The Dirty Blondes at the Kraine Theatre, How To Be Safe by Ashley J. Jacobson follows two women struggling to hang on when their paths cross in a time of great need. A psychological drama, this play just scratches the surface of what it can be.
Following the sudden death of her neighbor, Audrey has finally left her apartment. On her journey out of the house, she meets Willow, a young woman with a lust for adventure, on her own journey to recovery. Their chance meeting creates a unique bond that brings them both together only to have their lives come crashing down. Written by Ashley J. Jacobson, How to Be Safe is a showcase of complexity, in character and mind. It is exceptionally difficult to depict mental illness on stage. Jacobson and director Cezar Williams have done a noble job in their attempt. But the script and execution teeter on the line of textbook and presentation with not quite enough theatricality. There’s very much an essence of cinema in Jacobson’s script. Infusing that cinematic feel in a limited fashion is quite difficult. The sound design from Almeda Beynon helped display the chaos in the mind. From the anxiety of the continuity of the time to the excessive loud noises, the sound brought us into Audrey. It was intimate but not intimate enough. Even in the brevity of the piece, Jacobson has much more she can offer. The heart of the play comes when these two individuals connect after their chance meeting. It wants to happen much faster. Playing with structure could easily allow this to happen. How to Be Safe isn’t necessarily a relationship play. The connections aren’t the draw into the piece, and yet we watch what human connection, or lack there of, looks like for these two women. As someone living with great fears, Audrey’s solace of connection comes in the form of her fish, and her love for procedural shows. It’s hard to learn about Audrey’s backstory, hence needing Willow a little sooner. Willow’s connection comes from Scott, a man who wants to help but has a need for a different type of closeness. It’s a strong juxtaposition to Audrey, showing the two individuals and how their illnesses play a factor. But it truly is when we see them together that we learn the most.
How to Be Safe isn’t a journey play but a “moment” play. We don’t get the chance to watch Willow and Audrey go on a complete journey but deal with their problems in the here and now. With that in mind, it was important for these women to be presented with integrity and truthfulness. As Audrey, Faith Sandberg played the fear to the max. It was in stark contrast to the intensity from Jenna D’Angelo as Willow. Together, D’Angelo and Sandberg made this wonderfully odd couple that were equal parts engaging and heartbreaking. As the more dominant force, Willow’s control, and subsequent loss of control, allowed D’Angelo to stand out as the central focus. Brandon Ferraro’s sweet Scott was endearing, despite the character’s slightly skewed moral compass.
With the complexity already being a strong factor in this show, director Cezar Williams had a tough road ahead of him. Even in the brevity of the piece, the pacing was sluggish. A leading factor in this was Williams’ transitions. Jacobson’s script called for locale after locale, but on the Kraine Theatre stage, there is simply not enough space. That being said, streamlining would have assisted Williams. He often tried to pair the transitions with an accompanying scene but there was too much commotion, to no fault of the crew. The stage is simply too tiny for it. This production desired sharpness and clarity.
To be fair, the evening I saw the show, there were some technical issues with the lighting. Could it have played a factor on the overall performance? Perhaps a little. But there is more to story. There is something innately promising about How to Be Safe. It might be Ashley J. Jacobson’s daring approach to tell a difficult story.
The fascination of the human mind is ripe for exploration in art. But how to depict it is the true test. Presented by The Dirty Blondes at the Kraine Theatre, How To Be Safe by Ashley J. Jacobson follows two women struggling to hang on when their paths cross in a time of great need. A psychological drama, this play just scratches the surface of what it can be.
Following the sudden death of her neighbor, Audrey has finally left her apartment. On her journey out of the house, she meets Willow, a young woman with a lust for adventure, on her own journey to recovery. Their chance meeting creates a unique bond that brings them both together only to have their lives come crashing down. Written by Ashley J. Jacobson, How to Be Safe is a showcase of complexity, in character and mind. It is exceptionally difficult to depict mental illness on stage. Jacobson and director Cezar Williams have done a noble job in their attempt. But the script and execution teeter on the line of textbook and presentation with not quite enough theatricality. There’s very much an essence of cinema in Jacobson’s script. Infusing that cinematic feel in a limited fashion is quite difficult. The sound design from Almeda Beynon helped display the chaos in the mind. From the anxiety of the continuity of the time to the excessive loud noises, the sound brought us into Audrey. It was intimate but not intimate enough. Even in the brevity of the piece, Jacobson has much more she can offer. The heart of the play comes when these two individuals connect after their chance meeting. It wants to happen much faster. Playing with structure could easily allow this to happen. How to Be Safe isn’t necessarily a relationship play. The connections aren’t the draw into the piece, and yet we watch what human connection, or lack there of, looks like for these two women. As someone living with great fears, Audrey’s solace of connection comes in the form of her fish, and her love for procedural shows. It’s hard to learn about Audrey’s backstory, hence needing Willow a little sooner. Willow’s connection comes from Scott, a man who wants to help but has a need for a different type of closeness. It’s a strong juxtaposition to Audrey, showing the two individuals and how their illnesses play a factor. But it truly is when we see them together that we learn the most.
![]() |
photo by Rachael Elana Photography |
With the complexity already being a strong factor in this show, director Cezar Williams had a tough road ahead of him. Even in the brevity of the piece, the pacing was sluggish. A leading factor in this was Williams’ transitions. Jacobson’s script called for locale after locale, but on the Kraine Theatre stage, there is simply not enough space. That being said, streamlining would have assisted Williams. He often tried to pair the transitions with an accompanying scene but there was too much commotion, to no fault of the crew. The stage is simply too tiny for it. This production desired sharpness and clarity.
To be fair, the evening I saw the show, there were some technical issues with the lighting. Could it have played a factor on the overall performance? Perhaps a little. But there is more to story. There is something innately promising about How to Be Safe. It might be Ashley J. Jacobson’s daring approach to tell a difficult story.
Tuesday, June 13, 2017
Spotlight On...Patrick Reilly
Name: Patrick Reilly
Hometown: Houston, TX
Education: University of Southern California
Select Credits: Feature Films: “Danny The Manny” (Danny), Dating "My Mother" (Danny, Opposite Kathryn Erbe, Kathy Najimy, and James LeGros); Regional Theatre: American Idiot (Tunny, La Mirada Theatre for the Performing Arts), We Are The Tigers (Clark U/S, Hudson Stage, Los Angeles, Ovation Award for Best Music/Lyrics)
Why theater?: Honestly, observing people has always been my favorite thing to do, so getting to put those observations to good use on stage- that's gold for me.
Who do you play in Afterglow?: Darius
Tell us about Afterglow: It's a story of love and intimacy between three people, the way they confront societal standards, their own personal bias in life, and what they do in regards to that triangular connection.
What is it like being a part of Afterglow?: Amazing. Great cast, amazing production team, and conversation for ages!!!!
What kind of theater speaks to you? What or who inspires you as an artist?: Theater with complex themes and a POV
Who would play you in a movie about yourself and what would it be called?: Alan Cumming- and it would be called “My Future”
If you could go back in time and see any play or musical you missed, what would it be?: Constellations, Gypsy with Patti, and The Color Purple- so basically shows that I told myself I'd see but life was like "nah"
What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?: Cereal for daysssss
What’s up next?: Filming two shorts I wrote- "Needy Bitch" and "Mommy"- the former a commentary on white privilege and the latter a horror drama
Hometown: Houston, TX
Education: University of Southern California
Select Credits: Feature Films: “Danny The Manny” (Danny), Dating "My Mother" (Danny, Opposite Kathryn Erbe, Kathy Najimy, and James LeGros); Regional Theatre: American Idiot (Tunny, La Mirada Theatre for the Performing Arts), We Are The Tigers (Clark U/S, Hudson Stage, Los Angeles, Ovation Award for Best Music/Lyrics)
Why theater?: Honestly, observing people has always been my favorite thing to do, so getting to put those observations to good use on stage- that's gold for me.
Who do you play in Afterglow?: Darius
Tell us about Afterglow: It's a story of love and intimacy between three people, the way they confront societal standards, their own personal bias in life, and what they do in regards to that triangular connection.
What is it like being a part of Afterglow?: Amazing. Great cast, amazing production team, and conversation for ages!!!!
What kind of theater speaks to you? What or who inspires you as an artist?: Theater with complex themes and a POV
Who would play you in a movie about yourself and what would it be called?: Alan Cumming- and it would be called “My Future”
If you could go back in time and see any play or musical you missed, what would it be?: Constellations, Gypsy with Patti, and The Color Purple- so basically shows that I told myself I'd see but life was like "nah"
What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?: Cereal for daysssss
What’s up next?: Filming two shorts I wrote- "Needy Bitch" and "Mommy"- the former a commentary on white privilege and the latter a horror drama
Review: A Tree Is The Way Out Of The Tender Trap
By Ed Malin
The Woman Who Was Me is a solo show written by Peter Grandbois (adapted from his novel), performed by Liz Stanton, directed by Jeremy Williams. After several runs at United Solo Festival, the show is now being presented by Convergences Theatre Collective at TheaterLab.
Lanie is a “woman of a certain age”, an author, wife and mother of a seven-year old son named Noah. The story opens with Lanie waking up, standing up in bed, wearing all white amid the whiteness of TheaterLab. She goes about her life the way she has accepted she must. Her husband’s idea of kissing her is giving her a peck on the cheek. What a surprise when a passing stranger gives Lanie a passionate kiss in her garden. Suddenly, Lanie is fully conscious of her desires, and is ready to use her body to fulfill them. Nina Simone’s song "Wild Is The Wind" plays in the background as Lanie creates a new identity for herself: Elizabeth. Elizabeth hears the thudding noise of her ceiling fan and is moved to go to salsa clubs, where she is taught by and dominated by strange men. Whatever she wants, she pursues. However, she still has writer’s block, for, thinking of her grandmother and the girdle she felt pressured to wear, Lanie is acutely conscious of how society restrains us from living the way we want to live.
As sometimes happens in a play centered on the imagination, there are several mythological references. First, after Lanie views the film "Clash of the Titans" with her son, we are reminded that (according to Ovid in his Metamorphoses), Medusa was a beautiful woman, desired of many men, when the god Neptune raped her in the temple of Athena. Athena then punished Medusa by turning her into a dangerous, snake-haired monster. Second, the river nymph Daphne was pursued by the god Apollo as a result of her beauty. She called out to her father, and was turned into a laurel tree. The set (designed by WT McRae) is dominated by a tree-like clothes drying rack. Lanie/Elizabeth fears getting stuck in any normal pattern of life, and shows us her tree-enforced power by changing from her matronly white outfit into tree bark-patterned tights (thanks to Natalie Loveland’s costume design, this metamorphosis was surprising and quite effective). She is full of erotic energy, like water dripping in a cave, but she also has the very real need to take care of her young son.
Her husband initially ignores Lanie’s increased passion. Lanie responds by telling us of rough sex with more strangers. She tries to find satisfaction with her husband, who refuses her, and then is heard muttering in bed “I wish I were alone”. Finally, after Lanie removes her wedding ring and leaves it on her husband’s pillow, she is confronted by that most spineless remark: “You’re not the person I married.” Lanie tells us that she is not the same person she was five minutes ago, let alone whoever she thought she needed to be because of marriage, a contract, “something that creeps between two people” and stops them from being who they are. Lanie tells us that perhaps the kiss was a dream, but her son and her societal role are real. The audience must decide if this is a story of fulfillment (after all, polyamory and other kinds of sex-positivity are more acceptable nowadays) or unfulfilled longing or some mixture of the two. Kate Jaworski’s lighting helps show the dance between complete empowerment and loneliness which Elizabeth Stanton bravely undertakes.
Following the hour-long Act One, we are treated to the forty-minute talkback which is Act Two. The play motivated a lot of people to speak up about empowering themselves. Women’s voices will be heard, most prominently through the hundreds and thousands of women who are now seeking public office. If the current administration does not care what women want, we can clearly see how the sisters of America (and France too, as reported) will be doing it for themselves. Many of the creative people behind this production were in the same graduate program, and very happy to tell us that they share a common theatrical vocabulary: from Grotowski movement training to Roy Hart vocal technique. Jeremy Williams, Artistic Director of Convergences Theatre Collective, has worked closely with Liz Stanton to bring out the mundane and “woke” aspects of her character; the trapped whimper and the primal roar. The results are fascinating.
The Woman Who Was Me is a solo show written by Peter Grandbois (adapted from his novel), performed by Liz Stanton, directed by Jeremy Williams. After several runs at United Solo Festival, the show is now being presented by Convergences Theatre Collective at TheaterLab.
Lanie is a “woman of a certain age”, an author, wife and mother of a seven-year old son named Noah. The story opens with Lanie waking up, standing up in bed, wearing all white amid the whiteness of TheaterLab. She goes about her life the way she has accepted she must. Her husband’s idea of kissing her is giving her a peck on the cheek. What a surprise when a passing stranger gives Lanie a passionate kiss in her garden. Suddenly, Lanie is fully conscious of her desires, and is ready to use her body to fulfill them. Nina Simone’s song "Wild Is The Wind" plays in the background as Lanie creates a new identity for herself: Elizabeth. Elizabeth hears the thudding noise of her ceiling fan and is moved to go to salsa clubs, where she is taught by and dominated by strange men. Whatever she wants, she pursues. However, she still has writer’s block, for, thinking of her grandmother and the girdle she felt pressured to wear, Lanie is acutely conscious of how society restrains us from living the way we want to live.
![]() |
photo by Lloyd Mulvey |
Her husband initially ignores Lanie’s increased passion. Lanie responds by telling us of rough sex with more strangers. She tries to find satisfaction with her husband, who refuses her, and then is heard muttering in bed “I wish I were alone”. Finally, after Lanie removes her wedding ring and leaves it on her husband’s pillow, she is confronted by that most spineless remark: “You’re not the person I married.” Lanie tells us that she is not the same person she was five minutes ago, let alone whoever she thought she needed to be because of marriage, a contract, “something that creeps between two people” and stops them from being who they are. Lanie tells us that perhaps the kiss was a dream, but her son and her societal role are real. The audience must decide if this is a story of fulfillment (after all, polyamory and other kinds of sex-positivity are more acceptable nowadays) or unfulfilled longing or some mixture of the two. Kate Jaworski’s lighting helps show the dance between complete empowerment and loneliness which Elizabeth Stanton bravely undertakes.
Following the hour-long Act One, we are treated to the forty-minute talkback which is Act Two. The play motivated a lot of people to speak up about empowering themselves. Women’s voices will be heard, most prominently through the hundreds and thousands of women who are now seeking public office. If the current administration does not care what women want, we can clearly see how the sisters of America (and France too, as reported) will be doing it for themselves. Many of the creative people behind this production were in the same graduate program, and very happy to tell us that they share a common theatrical vocabulary: from Grotowski movement training to Roy Hart vocal technique. Jeremy Williams, Artistic Director of Convergences Theatre Collective, has worked closely with Liz Stanton to bring out the mundane and “woke” aspects of her character; the trapped whimper and the primal roar. The results are fascinating.
Spotlight On...Brandon Haagenson
Name: Brandon Haagenson
Hometown: Oswego, IL
Education: BFA: Millikin University in Decatur, IL.
Select Credits: Monty Python's Spamalot (Patsy, NTC); 42nd Street (Billy Lawlor, Ocean State); going on for Lumiere in Disney's Beauty & the Beast (NETworks tour); Shows at FringeNYC, Theatre Row, St. Luke's, Snapple Center.
Why theater?: Doing theater in school was when I found 'my people.' I've met the most interesting people in this business - creative, fun, focused types who challenge me, and they're who keep me coming back.
Who do you play in Afterglow?: Josh
Tell us about Afterglow: Afterglow is a play revolving around a married couple and someone that they become involved with. There's this line that couples teeter on between sex and love when they open up their relationship, and the playwright, Asher Gelman, does a really nice job of exploring all the different things that two people need out of the same relationship.
What is it like being a part of Afterglow?: The process for Afterglow has been incredibly collaborative. When you do published works without the playwright in the room you take for granted what's written and kind of glean your own meaning from it. With this, we really got to sit down with our scripts and ask Asher what's underneath everything that happens in the story. Every scene, every word has something behind it, and it's been really cool to discover that and be given the freedom to add to it throughout this process with such talented actors.
What kind of theater speaks to you? What or who inspires you as an artist?: I love when theater pulls the audience into the world it's painting. In Afterglow, we put the audience on either side of the action to make them feel like they're in these rooms with us. I'm just very attracted to any theater that breaks the form and invites everyone to live in this world for a couple hours. That's a luxury that film and books don't have.
Any roles you’re dying to play?: Ken in Red by John Logan. That play deals so deeply in what making art does to a person and what it ends up meaning to the world.
What’s your favorite showtune?: "Sunday" from Sunday in the Park with George. Not your typical showtune, but always gives me the goosebumps.
If you could work with anyone you’ve yet to work with, who would it be?: Nicky Silver. He writes such compelling, funny characters that are so bent out of shape; I just want to see what building that with him is like.
Who would play you in a movie about yourself and what would it be called?: Jonathan Groff looks right both in the cornfields and in the city, which sums me up pretty much, I guess. "Small Town, Big City." "Lost in Harlem." I hate coming up with titles!
If you could go back in time and see any play or musical you missed, what would it be?: I would like to see A Chorus Line downtown at The Public in 1975 just to see what the energy in that theater felt like.
What show have you recommended to your friends?: A Doll's House, Part 2.
What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?: Kit Kat Bites. How are they better than Kit Kats?
What’s up next?: Hopefully something as exciting and daring as Afterglow.
For more on Brandon, visit www.brandonhaagenson.com
Hometown: Oswego, IL
Education: BFA: Millikin University in Decatur, IL.
Select Credits: Monty Python's Spamalot (Patsy, NTC); 42nd Street (Billy Lawlor, Ocean State); going on for Lumiere in Disney's Beauty & the Beast (NETworks tour); Shows at FringeNYC, Theatre Row, St. Luke's, Snapple Center.
Why theater?: Doing theater in school was when I found 'my people.' I've met the most interesting people in this business - creative, fun, focused types who challenge me, and they're who keep me coming back.
Who do you play in Afterglow?: Josh
Tell us about Afterglow: Afterglow is a play revolving around a married couple and someone that they become involved with. There's this line that couples teeter on between sex and love when they open up their relationship, and the playwright, Asher Gelman, does a really nice job of exploring all the different things that two people need out of the same relationship.
What is it like being a part of Afterglow?: The process for Afterglow has been incredibly collaborative. When you do published works without the playwright in the room you take for granted what's written and kind of glean your own meaning from it. With this, we really got to sit down with our scripts and ask Asher what's underneath everything that happens in the story. Every scene, every word has something behind it, and it's been really cool to discover that and be given the freedom to add to it throughout this process with such talented actors.
What kind of theater speaks to you? What or who inspires you as an artist?: I love when theater pulls the audience into the world it's painting. In Afterglow, we put the audience on either side of the action to make them feel like they're in these rooms with us. I'm just very attracted to any theater that breaks the form and invites everyone to live in this world for a couple hours. That's a luxury that film and books don't have.
Any roles you’re dying to play?: Ken in Red by John Logan. That play deals so deeply in what making art does to a person and what it ends up meaning to the world.
What’s your favorite showtune?: "Sunday" from Sunday in the Park with George. Not your typical showtune, but always gives me the goosebumps.
If you could work with anyone you’ve yet to work with, who would it be?: Nicky Silver. He writes such compelling, funny characters that are so bent out of shape; I just want to see what building that with him is like.
Who would play you in a movie about yourself and what would it be called?: Jonathan Groff looks right both in the cornfields and in the city, which sums me up pretty much, I guess. "Small Town, Big City." "Lost in Harlem." I hate coming up with titles!
If you could go back in time and see any play or musical you missed, what would it be?: I would like to see A Chorus Line downtown at The Public in 1975 just to see what the energy in that theater felt like.
What show have you recommended to your friends?: A Doll's House, Part 2.
What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?: Kit Kat Bites. How are they better than Kit Kats?
What’s up next?: Hopefully something as exciting and daring as Afterglow.
For more on Brandon, visit www.brandonhaagenson.com
Monday, June 12, 2017
Review: Welcome to the Pet Shop
By Michael Block
Charles Ludlam, the master of the absolutely ridiculous, is a theatrical game changer, but rarely do his masterpieces get the full production treatment. But fret not, Theater Breaking Through Barriers is taking on The Artificial Jungle. Directed by Everett Quinton, this revival is a welcome reminder of the brilliance of Charles Ludlam. But the production doesn't come without some imperfections.
Originally premiering in 1986, The Artificial Jungle was Ludlam's exploration of comedic horror noir. His story follows Chester Nurdiger, his wife, Roxanne Nurdiger, and their pet shop. When Zachary Salde, a mysterious drifter, instantaneously responds to a help wanted sign in the window, Roxanne's lust for an escape from the mundane is piqued. Roxanne and Zachary concoct a plan to off Chester and earn his life insurance, the pet shop, and be free to explore their newfound love. The subversive styling of The Artificial Jungle holds up all these years later. It's wonderfully ridiculous. Everett Quinton, a key player in Ludlam’s life and career, directed this play loudly and yet the laughs came mellifluously. The comedy needed to be much sharper. The text was there. The staging was faltered. With the aggressive, over-the-top acting to match Ludlam’s script, the visual gags were lost due to the sight lines and layout of the world. The set, designed by Bert Scott, had its flaws. For example, the parrot puppet was on a low shelf that was not visible to all. The cuckoo clock was often on the opposite side of the stage from the joke, forcing you to look away at the visual punch line. The script dictates there needed to be distinct spaces but Scott’s defied walls. It just was never justified in Quinton’s staging. Even with a piece of this nature, there needs to be an ounce of believability. And it’s hard to believe just because the lights are down in one space that a person can’t overhear the conversation, especially when moments before a character broke the imaginary wall. Aesthetically, Scott’s green-tinted pet shop, filled with cages and terrariums, was wonderfully campy and flamboyant. The cheerful nature of the shop, juxtaposed to the evil deeds within the story was quite a happy marriage. It truly was a terrifyingly cheerful set. Also taking on the lighting design, Bert Scott played into the comedy of the piece. Calling attention to the conspiracy between Roxanne and Zachary was an exceptionally smart touch. But this lust light needed to snap back in and out much faster to match the comedy of the moment. The reality snaps were dictating properly by sound designer Julian Evans. The use of subliminal underscoring kept the campy horror mood alive. Costume designer Courtney E. Butt used a bright, period pallet, with the looks of the night appearing on Roxanne. The true star, well stars, of the show were the piranhas, created by puppet designer Vandy Wood. With a vivacious personality, the piranhas, animated by puppeteer Satoshi Haga, earned some of the boisterous laughs of the night.
Over-the-top was the name of the game on stage at The Clurman Theatre. The five-piece ensemble went big and bold with a tinge of reality, and played into the hands of the audience. As the desperate housewife with a lust for an escape from the mundane, Alyssa H. Chase was comedy noir gold. Chase adopted a high, squeaky voice to make Roxanne have a tinge of vapidity despite her strength. Taking on the man of mystery Zachary, Anthony Michael Lopez, kept a continuous face of fear and uncertainty as the plan was in motion. Lopez and Chase were strongest in their moments of insatiable comedic thirst for one another. David Harrell as the oblivious pet shop man Chester dove deep into physical comedy, and it paid off. Though, at times, Harrell’s extremes were a bit harsher than the rest of his castmates’. Anita Hollander and Rob Minutoli were both wonderful supporting players. Hollander came to life when Mother Nurdiger, well, stopped.
The Artificial Jungle was a loving homage to Charles Ludlam. It may not be perfection but it certainly is cheeky. And sometimes, that’s all you need in a night out at the theater.
Charles Ludlam, the master of the absolutely ridiculous, is a theatrical game changer, but rarely do his masterpieces get the full production treatment. But fret not, Theater Breaking Through Barriers is taking on The Artificial Jungle. Directed by Everett Quinton, this revival is a welcome reminder of the brilliance of Charles Ludlam. But the production doesn't come without some imperfections.
Originally premiering in 1986, The Artificial Jungle was Ludlam's exploration of comedic horror noir. His story follows Chester Nurdiger, his wife, Roxanne Nurdiger, and their pet shop. When Zachary Salde, a mysterious drifter, instantaneously responds to a help wanted sign in the window, Roxanne's lust for an escape from the mundane is piqued. Roxanne and Zachary concoct a plan to off Chester and earn his life insurance, the pet shop, and be free to explore their newfound love. The subversive styling of The Artificial Jungle holds up all these years later. It's wonderfully ridiculous. Everett Quinton, a key player in Ludlam’s life and career, directed this play loudly and yet the laughs came mellifluously. The comedy needed to be much sharper. The text was there. The staging was faltered. With the aggressive, over-the-top acting to match Ludlam’s script, the visual gags were lost due to the sight lines and layout of the world. The set, designed by Bert Scott, had its flaws. For example, the parrot puppet was on a low shelf that was not visible to all. The cuckoo clock was often on the opposite side of the stage from the joke, forcing you to look away at the visual punch line. The script dictates there needed to be distinct spaces but Scott’s defied walls. It just was never justified in Quinton’s staging. Even with a piece of this nature, there needs to be an ounce of believability. And it’s hard to believe just because the lights are down in one space that a person can’t overhear the conversation, especially when moments before a character broke the imaginary wall. Aesthetically, Scott’s green-tinted pet shop, filled with cages and terrariums, was wonderfully campy and flamboyant. The cheerful nature of the shop, juxtaposed to the evil deeds within the story was quite a happy marriage. It truly was a terrifyingly cheerful set. Also taking on the lighting design, Bert Scott played into the comedy of the piece. Calling attention to the conspiracy between Roxanne and Zachary was an exceptionally smart touch. But this lust light needed to snap back in and out much faster to match the comedy of the moment. The reality snaps were dictating properly by sound designer Julian Evans. The use of subliminal underscoring kept the campy horror mood alive. Costume designer Courtney E. Butt used a bright, period pallet, with the looks of the night appearing on Roxanne. The true star, well stars, of the show were the piranhas, created by puppet designer Vandy Wood. With a vivacious personality, the piranhas, animated by puppeteer Satoshi Haga, earned some of the boisterous laughs of the night.
![]() |
photo by Carol Rosegg |
The Artificial Jungle was a loving homage to Charles Ludlam. It may not be perfection but it certainly is cheeky. And sometimes, that’s all you need in a night out at the theater.
Thursday, June 8, 2017
Spotlight On...Eric Wiegand
Name: Eric Wiegand
Hometown: Carmel, Indiana
Education: BFA in Musical Theatre/Acting at Carnegie Mellon University, Class of 2018.
Select Credits: Outsiders (WGN America); Boom (Carnegie Mellon University)
Why theater?: Theatre is where we get to self-investigate, as an audience member or artist, we get to reflect and connect with each other and understand ourselves a little better.
Who do you play in Great Again?: I play Milo in The Test by Crystal Skillman.
Tell us about The Test: The Test explores the rippling effects of a hate symbol being carved into a public school desk. Crystal does an amazing job of using this event as a way to investigate how we point fingers, shoulder responsibility, and exercise compassion in the wake of a hateful incident, particularly in a national environment such as we have now.
What is it like being a part of Great Again?: It’s my first production in New York, and I’ve been unbelievably lucky to work with this particular group of people. We’ve maintained a terrifically supportive room throughout the process, each of us very passionate about communicating these arguments and ideas.
What kind of theater speaks to you? What or who inspires you as an artist?: Intelligent theatre that allows its characters to exist in authenticity and complexity. A play like the The Flick that is smart and trusts the audience to be just as smart, that’s a sort of theater that I can get excited about.
Any roles you’re dying to play?: I’d love play Ken in Red by John Logan.
What’s your favorite showtune?: “I Could Have Danced All Night” from My Fair Lady
If you could work with anyone you’ve yet to work with, who would it be?: Annie Baker
Who would play you in a movie about yourself and what would it be called?: The role of Eric would be played by my brother Ryan, I would play Eric’s bookie. Title: “Night Shift”
If you could go back in time and see any play or musical you missed, what would it be?: I would for sure see Bernadette Peters and Mandy Patinkin in Sunday in the Park with George.
What show have you recommended to your friends?: ASSSSCAT 3000 at UCB Chelsea!
What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?: ASSSSCAT 3000 at UCB Chelsea!
What’s up next?: I’m here for the summer, working on various projects and readings until I head back to school in September. I’ll be studying classical acting at LAMDA in London for the fall, then back to Pittsburgh for my last semester at Carnegie Mellon.
Hometown: Carmel, Indiana
Education: BFA in Musical Theatre/Acting at Carnegie Mellon University, Class of 2018.
Select Credits: Outsiders (WGN America); Boom (Carnegie Mellon University)
Why theater?: Theatre is where we get to self-investigate, as an audience member or artist, we get to reflect and connect with each other and understand ourselves a little better.
Who do you play in Great Again?: I play Milo in The Test by Crystal Skillman.
Tell us about The Test: The Test explores the rippling effects of a hate symbol being carved into a public school desk. Crystal does an amazing job of using this event as a way to investigate how we point fingers, shoulder responsibility, and exercise compassion in the wake of a hateful incident, particularly in a national environment such as we have now.
What is it like being a part of Great Again?: It’s my first production in New York, and I’ve been unbelievably lucky to work with this particular group of people. We’ve maintained a terrifically supportive room throughout the process, each of us very passionate about communicating these arguments and ideas.
What kind of theater speaks to you? What or who inspires you as an artist?: Intelligent theatre that allows its characters to exist in authenticity and complexity. A play like the The Flick that is smart and trusts the audience to be just as smart, that’s a sort of theater that I can get excited about.
Any roles you’re dying to play?: I’d love play Ken in Red by John Logan.
What’s your favorite showtune?: “I Could Have Danced All Night” from My Fair Lady
If you could work with anyone you’ve yet to work with, who would it be?: Annie Baker
Who would play you in a movie about yourself and what would it be called?: The role of Eric would be played by my brother Ryan, I would play Eric’s bookie. Title: “Night Shift”
If you could go back in time and see any play or musical you missed, what would it be?: I would for sure see Bernadette Peters and Mandy Patinkin in Sunday in the Park with George.
What show have you recommended to your friends?: ASSSSCAT 3000 at UCB Chelsea!
What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?: ASSSSCAT 3000 at UCB Chelsea!
What’s up next?: I’m here for the summer, working on various projects and readings until I head back to school in September. I’ll be studying classical acting at LAMDA in London for the fall, then back to Pittsburgh for my last semester at Carnegie Mellon.
Wednesday, June 7, 2017
Spotlight On...Mary Hodges
Name: Mary E. Hodges
Hometown: Middlesex County, VA
Education: BFA in Acting (Virginia Commonwealth Univ.), MFA in Acting (Univ. of Connecticut)
Select Credits: Law & Order: SVU #17-#18; Othello (Harlem Shakespeare Festival, All-Female Cast); The Best of Enemies (Florida Rep)
Why theater?: Because of process (rehearsal) is unique whether it’s 3 weeks or 4, you are stuck in a room with folks to achieve one goal and that is to tell a story in an engaging and theatrical way. And it is instant and alive each time you tell the story.
Who do you play in Great Again?: Ada in The Test by Crystal Skillman
Tell us about The Test: Now an English school teacher (failed as a writer), who is trying to reach her students and a select few in her class, ironically through writing. She realizes she’s been using her students and the classroom to hide from her mother’s struggles with Alzheimer and her true calling to be a writer
What is it like being a part of The Test?: It’s exhilarating and a lot of responsibility at the same time
What kind of theater speaks to you? What or who inspires you as an artist?: Stories that challenge the actor and the audience equally. My 7 year old son
Any roles you’re dying to play?: There are many, some not even written yet
If you could work with anyone you’ve yet to work with, who would it be?: Too many to name but Lynn Nottage
Who would play you in a movie about yourself and what would it be called?: “Meet Mary: An American Story”
What show have you recommended to your friends?: Our show Great Again duh
What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?: Eating a bag of twizzlers
What’s up next?: I’m a part of the short play director’s lab for New Perspectives- 6 original short plays will have a rep run in August…I will be directing one of the shorts
Hometown: Middlesex County, VA
Education: BFA in Acting (Virginia Commonwealth Univ.), MFA in Acting (Univ. of Connecticut)
Select Credits: Law & Order: SVU #17-#18; Othello (Harlem Shakespeare Festival, All-Female Cast); The Best of Enemies (Florida Rep)
Why theater?: Because of process (rehearsal) is unique whether it’s 3 weeks or 4, you are stuck in a room with folks to achieve one goal and that is to tell a story in an engaging and theatrical way. And it is instant and alive each time you tell the story.
Who do you play in Great Again?: Ada in The Test by Crystal Skillman
Tell us about The Test: Now an English school teacher (failed as a writer), who is trying to reach her students and a select few in her class, ironically through writing. She realizes she’s been using her students and the classroom to hide from her mother’s struggles with Alzheimer and her true calling to be a writer
What is it like being a part of The Test?: It’s exhilarating and a lot of responsibility at the same time
What kind of theater speaks to you? What or who inspires you as an artist?: Stories that challenge the actor and the audience equally. My 7 year old son
Any roles you’re dying to play?: There are many, some not even written yet
If you could work with anyone you’ve yet to work with, who would it be?: Too many to name but Lynn Nottage
Who would play you in a movie about yourself and what would it be called?: “Meet Mary: An American Story”
What show have you recommended to your friends?: Our show Great Again duh
What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?: Eating a bag of twizzlers
What’s up next?: I’m a part of the short play director’s lab for New Perspectives- 6 original short plays will have a rep run in August…I will be directing one of the shorts
Tuesday, June 6, 2017
Review: Dancing To Be the Queen
By Ed Malin
All those who dream, dream big. It may be the annual Dance Hall Queen of Pittsburgh championship, where "America" votes remotely, but please don't assume that this will be an edited, pasteurized TV show starring female simulacra in whom one can find nothing to sympathize. Oh no no no. In Amina Henry's new play Ducklings, directed by Christopher Burris, the genuinely interesting drama as well as the twerking, wining, etc. are all live.
Spider (Cole Taylor) is the hustling host of the Dance Hall pageant. He begins by telling us that his chief inspirations are Darwin, Scarface and Wall Street (circa 1987, dir. Oliver Stone). Throughout, he will remind us that "greed is good" and the contestants will wrestle with this assertion throughout. Spider does private video interviews with each of the four finalists. The returning champion, hoping for her third straight victory, is the meretricious Rihanna T. (Victoria Wallace) from Utah. She cultivates her sex appeal among her internet fan base, refers to most other women as "bitches" and "haters", and plans to launch her new lip gloss line using her forthcoming prize money. For a long time, she and Spider (who calls her Ri-Ri) have been dating in secret. Spider assures her she will win again this year and asks her to say she loves him. She sees such a request as a tool of male control, and does not oblige. Rihanna P. (Khalia Davis) is an earnest young woman from Michigan. She wants to change the world, and is clearly in love with her boyfriend, Lester, an entrepreneur whose work is best not discussed. Rihanna P. uses the adjective "bou-geosie" to refer to salad. Bunny (Katchana Agama) is a young, single mother. Her son has cancer. She has sewn leopard shorts for her performance and is energized to change her life. Donna (Cristina Pitter) is a Jamaican-American librarian. She returns to the contest after Ri-Ri disrupted her routine last year. She vows to win on merit as well as for being beholden to no one. Her parents kicked her out, and she is conscious of being full-figured, all of which she declares makes her independent and gives her the will to fight for a down-payment on her dream house.
Upon arrival in Pittsburgh, Spider and his special guest judge, Tom (Quilan Arnold) partake of all the I.H.O.P. has to offer while the ladies socialize (except for Donna, who finds Ri-Ri repulsive). Rihanna P. brags about Lester and advocates a general type of revolution. She and Ri-Ri finally recognize Bunny from her appearance on the Maury Povich show. Even after Maury proved paternity, the father of her child still left her. Apart from Donna, who will not answer questions about men, the ladies seem trapped by their relationships. Ri-Ri is testing Spider to see if he'll stay away from the other contestants this time. Bunny, who is using Spider to try to win, keeps silent and acts the part of the gal pal with Ri-Ri. The night before the big event, Donna discovers that someone has burned her costume in her hotel bathtub. Thankfully, she determines to perform in her thong and fishnets. I am grateful for the dances that everyone, even the ultra-silent, sunglasses-wearing Tom, deliver. Hats off to Joya Powell for the choreography to suit each personality, and to Andy Evan Cohen for the dancehall sound design.
I won’t give away the result of the dance battle. It’s much more than a contest. It’s about how hard it is to get to a position of wealth and control over your life. It’s about women whose opinions are strong and not at all diminished by the power of sexual expression which they possess. For these hard-working characters there are the joys of eating slim jims and doing what regular people do, which Christopher Burris’s direction brings into sharp focus. For me, there was the happiness of a linear, unedited story, something which reality shows have tried to take away. In the scenes when the camera is off, we get to hear what the characters would say next. I love the many ironies, such as Spider’s great appreciation for “Wall Street”, the film based on the lives of crooked businessmen famous for their “convictions”. Donna’s statements on the anti-colonial, pro-Black roots of Jamaican dancehall and the extra struggles of those with a “thick” body type are very apt. There are times when I was tempted to side with each of the contestants. I wasn’t expecting to agree with Ri-Ri on anything, but that is the beauty of this play. Of particular note are the scenes where she tests her man (using words whose precise meaning can’t be found in any dictionary) and it all makes dramatic sense. Sabrina Bianca Guillaume’s costumes speak volumes about female power. The hair and shoe styles also go a long way to express the strivings of these ladies. Jason Fok’s lighting works well within the silver-foiled performance space (JACK, in Clinton-Hill, Brooklyn) to make the dance scenes larger than life.
All those who dream, dream big. It may be the annual Dance Hall Queen of Pittsburgh championship, where "America" votes remotely, but please don't assume that this will be an edited, pasteurized TV show starring female simulacra in whom one can find nothing to sympathize. Oh no no no. In Amina Henry's new play Ducklings, directed by Christopher Burris, the genuinely interesting drama as well as the twerking, wining, etc. are all live.
Spider (Cole Taylor) is the hustling host of the Dance Hall pageant. He begins by telling us that his chief inspirations are Darwin, Scarface and Wall Street (circa 1987, dir. Oliver Stone). Throughout, he will remind us that "greed is good" and the contestants will wrestle with this assertion throughout. Spider does private video interviews with each of the four finalists. The returning champion, hoping for her third straight victory, is the meretricious Rihanna T. (Victoria Wallace) from Utah. She cultivates her sex appeal among her internet fan base, refers to most other women as "bitches" and "haters", and plans to launch her new lip gloss line using her forthcoming prize money. For a long time, she and Spider (who calls her Ri-Ri) have been dating in secret. Spider assures her she will win again this year and asks her to say she loves him. She sees such a request as a tool of male control, and does not oblige. Rihanna P. (Khalia Davis) is an earnest young woman from Michigan. She wants to change the world, and is clearly in love with her boyfriend, Lester, an entrepreneur whose work is best not discussed. Rihanna P. uses the adjective "bou-geosie" to refer to salad. Bunny (Katchana Agama) is a young, single mother. Her son has cancer. She has sewn leopard shorts for her performance and is energized to change her life. Donna (Cristina Pitter) is a Jamaican-American librarian. She returns to the contest after Ri-Ri disrupted her routine last year. She vows to win on merit as well as for being beholden to no one. Her parents kicked her out, and she is conscious of being full-figured, all of which she declares makes her independent and gives her the will to fight for a down-payment on her dream house.
![]() |
photo by Ed Forti |
I won’t give away the result of the dance battle. It’s much more than a contest. It’s about how hard it is to get to a position of wealth and control over your life. It’s about women whose opinions are strong and not at all diminished by the power of sexual expression which they possess. For these hard-working characters there are the joys of eating slim jims and doing what regular people do, which Christopher Burris’s direction brings into sharp focus. For me, there was the happiness of a linear, unedited story, something which reality shows have tried to take away. In the scenes when the camera is off, we get to hear what the characters would say next. I love the many ironies, such as Spider’s great appreciation for “Wall Street”, the film based on the lives of crooked businessmen famous for their “convictions”. Donna’s statements on the anti-colonial, pro-Black roots of Jamaican dancehall and the extra struggles of those with a “thick” body type are very apt. There are times when I was tempted to side with each of the contestants. I wasn’t expecting to agree with Ri-Ri on anything, but that is the beauty of this play. Of particular note are the scenes where she tests her man (using words whose precise meaning can’t be found in any dictionary) and it all makes dramatic sense. Sabrina Bianca Guillaume’s costumes speak volumes about female power. The hair and shoe styles also go a long way to express the strivings of these ladies. Jason Fok’s lighting works well within the silver-foiled performance space (JACK, in Clinton-Hill, Brooklyn) to make the dance scenes larger than life.
Monday, June 5, 2017
Spotlight On...Sarah Suzuki
Name: Sarah Suzuki
Hometown: Littleton, CO
Education: BA in Theater from Barnard College
Select Credits: Liminal Space (Rhapsody Collective), Chokher Bali (Hypokrit Theater Company), Macbeth (King’s Crown Shakespeare Troupe
Why theater?: I think there’s something really powerful in performing live. To be in a space with real bodies and real action happening in front of you is not only intoxicating but an incredibly valuable tool for opening lines of communication. Theater allows us to tell stories, create empathy, and feel deeply. I wish I had a more articulate way to describe why I do theater, but, in short, I think theater has the power to save lives.
Who do you play in Mary V: I play Court, one of Mary’s band of sisters. Court is very logical and must analyze everything around her before she can understand it fully. She uses words and intelligence as weapons in her fight against the patriarchy (and also swords).
Tell us about Mary V: When Sister of the Bard have their all-female production of Henry V taken away and given to a more traditional cast, the women decide that it is time to take a stand. However, they discover that going to war, even if your cause is just, has consequences. What unfolds is a funny and bloody battle-of-the sexes that investigates the role of gender and violence in theater both on and off stage.
What is it like being a part of Mary V?: I’m really proud to have had the opportunity to work on this show. Even in 2017, we are so incredibly far from being a gender equitable society (not to mention a race and class equitable society), and this show directly deals with the consequences of being ignored as a woman in a world run by men. The show was written and directed by women, Rebekah Carrow and Charlotte Murray, and also features a female fight director and lighting designer. The cast and crew are full of wonderful people, and it’s been absolutely fantastic to work on the show.
What kind of theater speaks to you? What or who inspires you as an artist?: I love theater that twists our realities. A woman playing Hamlet, a black man playing a Russian count, an autistic boy being able to fly. I love theater that heightens my sense of what’s possible and subverts my perception of what is “normal.”
Any roles you’re dying to play?: Abigail in The Crucible (I’m very into witches), Jenny in John by Annie Baker
What’s your favorite showtune?: This is honestly the hardest question you’ve asked me. Right now I think it’s “When You’re Home” from In the Heights.
If you could work with anyone you’ve yet to work with, who would it be?: There are so many amazing female writers, directors, and actors I’d love to work with: Annie Baker, Ava DuVernay, Mindy Kaling, Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, Viola Davis, etc.
Who would play you in a movie about yourself and what would it be called?: I would play myself, obviously (not too many other half Asians in the entertainment industry), and it would be called “Smashing the Patriarchy: The Sarah Suzuki Story.”
If you could go back in time and see any play or musical you missed, what would it be?: I would love to have seen the original cast of Sweeney Todd. Angela Lansbury is a queen.
What show have you recommended to your friends?: A Doll’s House Part 2. The acting and writing is absolutely phenomenal.
What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?: Nutella
What’s up next?: I’m in the process of writing and developing a few short films with a good friend of mine! There are some exciting things on the horizon.
For more on Mary V, visit https://maryvpress.wixsite.com/maryv
Hometown: Littleton, CO
Education: BA in Theater from Barnard College
Select Credits: Liminal Space (Rhapsody Collective), Chokher Bali (Hypokrit Theater Company), Macbeth (King’s Crown Shakespeare Troupe
Why theater?: I think there’s something really powerful in performing live. To be in a space with real bodies and real action happening in front of you is not only intoxicating but an incredibly valuable tool for opening lines of communication. Theater allows us to tell stories, create empathy, and feel deeply. I wish I had a more articulate way to describe why I do theater, but, in short, I think theater has the power to save lives.
Who do you play in Mary V: I play Court, one of Mary’s band of sisters. Court is very logical and must analyze everything around her before she can understand it fully. She uses words and intelligence as weapons in her fight against the patriarchy (and also swords).
Tell us about Mary V: When Sister of the Bard have their all-female production of Henry V taken away and given to a more traditional cast, the women decide that it is time to take a stand. However, they discover that going to war, even if your cause is just, has consequences. What unfolds is a funny and bloody battle-of-the sexes that investigates the role of gender and violence in theater both on and off stage.
What is it like being a part of Mary V?: I’m really proud to have had the opportunity to work on this show. Even in 2017, we are so incredibly far from being a gender equitable society (not to mention a race and class equitable society), and this show directly deals with the consequences of being ignored as a woman in a world run by men. The show was written and directed by women, Rebekah Carrow and Charlotte Murray, and also features a female fight director and lighting designer. The cast and crew are full of wonderful people, and it’s been absolutely fantastic to work on the show.
What kind of theater speaks to you? What or who inspires you as an artist?: I love theater that twists our realities. A woman playing Hamlet, a black man playing a Russian count, an autistic boy being able to fly. I love theater that heightens my sense of what’s possible and subverts my perception of what is “normal.”
Any roles you’re dying to play?: Abigail in The Crucible (I’m very into witches), Jenny in John by Annie Baker
What’s your favorite showtune?: This is honestly the hardest question you’ve asked me. Right now I think it’s “When You’re Home” from In the Heights.
If you could work with anyone you’ve yet to work with, who would it be?: There are so many amazing female writers, directors, and actors I’d love to work with: Annie Baker, Ava DuVernay, Mindy Kaling, Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, Viola Davis, etc.
Who would play you in a movie about yourself and what would it be called?: I would play myself, obviously (not too many other half Asians in the entertainment industry), and it would be called “Smashing the Patriarchy: The Sarah Suzuki Story.”
If you could go back in time and see any play or musical you missed, what would it be?: I would love to have seen the original cast of Sweeney Todd. Angela Lansbury is a queen.
What show have you recommended to your friends?: A Doll’s House Part 2. The acting and writing is absolutely phenomenal.
What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?: Nutella
What’s up next?: I’m in the process of writing and developing a few short films with a good friend of mine! There are some exciting things on the horizon.
For more on Mary V, visit https://maryvpress.wixsite.com/maryv
Review: An Epic New Perspective on Family
By Michael Block
Sit yourself down, you’re in for a long ride! Welcome to the two-part theatrical event known as Sojourners and Her Portmanteau. Written by Mfoniso Udofia, two chapters of her nine play epic series is on display at New York Theatre Workshop. Thankfully, the plays are in capable hands.
If you are familiar with his work, then this show should come of no surprise. Ed Sylvanus Iskandar is back to directing an epic play series. But even with two proven powerhouses teaming up for a repertory evening of storytelling, Sojourners and Her Portmanteau is lacking.
In the two stories’ chronological order, Sojourners follows a young woman named Abasiama as she struggles with the life of an arranged marriage, finishing her studies, and a husband captivated by American culture more than her and her pregnancy. Determined to go back to Nigeria, Abasiama battles her dreams and responsibilities in an unknown world. In Her Portmanteau, Abasiama’s decisions are brought to the present as she and her daughters are forced to confront tradition and culture through the lens of family. To begin, I attended Her Portmanteau first and Sojourners second. And it’s quite interesting to watch the second part first. With little knowledge of the events that lead into Her Portmanteau, you’re able to play detective and then watch those events unravel. In Her Portmanteau, Udofia writes a strong relationship play about mother, daughter, and estranged daughter who all are brought together in a tiny Inwood apartment to discover the bonds of family and their personal ideals of the future. Udofia focuses on the relationships, both close and distant. By the end of the piece, you truly are able to understand the characters and circumstance having little information from the previous play. Abasiama is a link between her two daughters but the sparks between Iniabasi and Adiagha are truly the dynamic of the play. All three of the characters have intentions from one another that they expect to be honored, yet they seldomly reveal their desires. This cause of conflict truly steers the action in this piece. In a play about forgiveness and loyalty through the lens of what they believe the world to be, Udofia provides a modern interpretation of family that is nothing short of captivating. Her Portmanteau is simple and that is enough. Sojourners is anything but simple. It’s slower moving and focuses on language much more than relationships. Jumping 36 years in the past, Sojourners is a period piece about a pair of students who emigrated to America for an opportunity to learn. Abasiama knows it is best to go back home after receiving her degree, but with a child looming and attention from a man who truly cares about her, the life she wanted is not the one she ends up with, as she sends the child and her father back to Nigeria. Udofia forces a bit more unnatural exposition into this play. There is a lot to learn through the various culture shocks experienced by the characters, which causes some of the slow-moving action. But once the lines are drawn, the conflicts arise, and the new relationships solidified, Udofia keeps you glued to the edge of your seat as Abasiama must make life altering decisions.
As a whole, Her Portmanteau is the stronger of the two plays. It has the power to stand on its own. While Sojourners is a story by itself, it’s best as a pair. Iskander is strongest when his direction is simple through epic proportions. For him, epic battles between characters works in his favor as opposed to behemoth of a set. A turntable typically helps keep a show moving and yet the simplicity of Jason Sherwood’s piece worked against him. The moving parts stalled the action in Sojourners. Iskander’s staging came across as clunky, with his actors forced to park and bark at center stage due to the mechanics of the set. With the limitations of a single set in Her Portmanteau, Sherwood compiled beautiful pieces to make up Adiagha’s clean apartment. The giant projection structure used in both pieces was beneficial to see a plethora of images, whether it be walking shadows or family photos, that added to the mood of the story. Costume designer Loren Shaw did a tremendous job playing with time and culture in the design of the two plays. The garments felt honest and true for the characters. Even if some of the pieces felt as if they came from a bag from a costume store in Sojourners, it reflected the feeling of the characters attempting to fit into America.
If you are someone who doesn’t read their program, you might not have known about the exceptional performance coming from Chinasa Ogbuagu. In part one, Ogbuagu took on the two play’s central character, Abasiama and in part two she played American-born daughter Adiagha. They were such a transformative performance, you might have believed it was two different people. As Abasiama, Ogbuagu played into the reserved nature of a woman who was fearful yet excitable about the future. There was a spark in her eye each time she would cross paths with her new companions. As Adiagha, Ogbuagu was gentle on the verge of explosion. Playing mother and daughter, you can see how the former influenced the latter. Ogbuagu gave a true acting masterclass. The remainder of the company gave exceptional performances, with a few standing out above the rest. Lakisha Michelle May is a ball of energy as Moxie the prostitute. The differences between Moxie and Abasiama brought out the buddy nature of the two, but May’s quick wit and characterization made her a genuine scene stealer. Chinaza Uche comes to life as the amiable Disciple. It’s no wonder Abasiama would pick him over her first husband.
Mfoniso Udofia has written two bountiful epic dramas that have brought a new perspective on family. And yet there is still some disconnect. Sojourners and Her Portmanteau desired a bit more cohesion beyond its characters.
Sit yourself down, you’re in for a long ride! Welcome to the two-part theatrical event known as Sojourners and Her Portmanteau. Written by Mfoniso Udofia, two chapters of her nine play epic series is on display at New York Theatre Workshop. Thankfully, the plays are in capable hands.
If you are familiar with his work, then this show should come of no surprise. Ed Sylvanus Iskandar is back to directing an epic play series. But even with two proven powerhouses teaming up for a repertory evening of storytelling, Sojourners and Her Portmanteau is lacking.
![]() |
photo by Joan Marcus |
As a whole, Her Portmanteau is the stronger of the two plays. It has the power to stand on its own. While Sojourners is a story by itself, it’s best as a pair. Iskander is strongest when his direction is simple through epic proportions. For him, epic battles between characters works in his favor as opposed to behemoth of a set. A turntable typically helps keep a show moving and yet the simplicity of Jason Sherwood’s piece worked against him. The moving parts stalled the action in Sojourners. Iskander’s staging came across as clunky, with his actors forced to park and bark at center stage due to the mechanics of the set. With the limitations of a single set in Her Portmanteau, Sherwood compiled beautiful pieces to make up Adiagha’s clean apartment. The giant projection structure used in both pieces was beneficial to see a plethora of images, whether it be walking shadows or family photos, that added to the mood of the story. Costume designer Loren Shaw did a tremendous job playing with time and culture in the design of the two plays. The garments felt honest and true for the characters. Even if some of the pieces felt as if they came from a bag from a costume store in Sojourners, it reflected the feeling of the characters attempting to fit into America.
![]() |
photo by Joan Marcus |
Mfoniso Udofia has written two bountiful epic dramas that have brought a new perspective on family. And yet there is still some disconnect. Sojourners and Her Portmanteau desired a bit more cohesion beyond its characters.
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