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Theatre Reviews

Bringing Home The Blokes

by Roger Martin on May 09, 2010

Dad accepts that his son, Jeff, is gay. Oh boy, does he accept. Stroke mags on display in the living room (they'll help Jeff get it up), cuppas served to Jeff's bed-mates in the morning (I understand, I understand, my boy), Granny was a lesbian (and she was happy) and here we are in the Melbourne home of Dad and Jeff in the 1990 Australian play by David Stevens, The Sum of Us.

We're also at the Rising Action Theatre in Ft. Lauderdale. A very friendly place. So much so that Producing Artistic Director David Goldyn tells the audience in his pre-curtain speech that the concession bar will be open throughout the show if any patron feels that old champagne urge. And some do. I love it.

The Sum of Us is a sweet comedy, almost saccharine, with Dad fawning over his footy-playing son, lamenting the loss of his own wife and trying to hook up with a Sheila he met through a dating service.

 

Love conquers all. With a twist.

Directed by Steven A. Chambers and with Ned Cray as Dad, John McGlothlin as his son Jeff, Ricardo Rodriguez as Greg, the hunky landscaper, and Linda Ellis as dating service Joyce, the piece feels a little dated. Well it is, it's twenty years old. Perhaps it's the fourth-wall breaking monologues. Not too relevant these days.

The old Aussie play bugaboos, the Strine accents, are not really a problem here. John McGlothlin is pretty much dead on and the others are close.

But the show is a bit eggy. (Eggy? I stole it from my wife. It means a show's not quite there yet. Very useful.) A little blocking for blocking's sake (she's got to find those damn skin mags), a little more acting than being from Dad, too obvious lighting changes. You know, the little things that remind you you're watching a performance.

It's a forty minute drive from Miami Beach to the Rising Action Theatre, but I didn't begrudge it and I still don't. There's good free parking and 90-plus seats, well raked. And don't forget that concession bar.

The Sum of Us plays through May 30 at Rising Action Theatre located at 840 East Oakland Park Blvd. in Ft. Lauderdale. For tickets call 954.561.2225 or visit www.risingactiontheatre.com.

Photos by Roger Martin.

 

 

 

 

 

BroadSword Review

by Roger Martin on May 01, 2010

Rockin' That Old Black Magic

 

Gregg Weiner in a snazzy white suit with matching fedora looms above us, almost in the rafters. He's a sleazy talent agent, a demon, maybe even the Devil himself, hey, wait a minute, isn't that what being an agent is all about? Regardless, Weiner, as The Man In White, leads us relentlessly into the heavy metal inferno of Mad Cat's BroadSword in the Carnival Studio Theatre at the Adrienne Arsht Center.

Playwright and Julliard drop-out (what?) Marco Ramirez, with Director Paul Tei and Assistant Director Erin Joy Schmidt, have layered drugs, booze, sex, betrayal, death, the Devil and the search for the ever elusive tones between tones on screaming rock guitars into two hours of whiz bang theatrics. My ears didn't quite bleed, but if you're taking your 94 year-old grannie to the show, hide her hearing aids.

Sean McClelland's fine basement set is a large affair with stairs to the ground floor above, trapdoor to the street level, and a doorway to Hell. Musical instruments, books, torn chairs, old lamps, a beaten-up refrigerator, sheet music, tapes and tape decks, clothing and crumpled newspapers litter the floor. Fifteen years ago the rock band BroadSword hung out here, and then they broke up. Now the band members are back, attending the wake upstairs for guitar player Ritchie, missing for six months and presumed dead.

 

One by one they come down to the basement to poke around in their memories. Bass player Victor (Eli Peck, all nerves and twitches), drummer Nicky (Paul Tei, lost, cynical and resigned to failure), groupie Becca (Sofia Citarella, so much Jersey girl she should be on that TV show), guitar player Tony, Richie's older brother (Erik Fabregat, who almost makes it big and screw the others) and the mysterious Dr Thorne (Ken Clement with a wonderfully unctuous accent), a music theorist who plays the Demon King's sacred music on a penny whistle and can knock people flat with his fingertips. He has been tutoring the missing Ritchie for years in the intricacies of mathematics and music. And, of course, the Man In White reappears. Flamboyantly.

BroadSword is like the set itself. There's stuff everywhere and you have to dig right in. And that's the fun part. They're all good, can't take your eyes off them, actors Fabregat, Peck and Tei really are terrific rock and rollers.

The lighting, sound, and costumes, by Sevim Abaza, Matt Corey, and Erin Amico are all first-class.

On the slightly negative side, the show feels a little long and somewhat lost in the Carnival Studio Theatre. But hey, there's nothing else like it playing around here. And unfortunately it runs only through May 9.

BroadSword at the Adrienne Arsht Center, 1300 Biscayne Blvd., in downtown Miami. Call 305.949.6722 or visit www.arshtcenter.org.

 Photos by Roger Martin.

 

Raised in Captivity Review

by Roger Martin on April 29, 2010

 

Who's A Clever Boy, Then?

Why, it's Nicky Silver, writer of Raised In Captivity now playing at Coral Gables' New Theatre. Silver has written a funny show, verging on the absurd, with a little reality tossed in, mostly in the second act where the laughs are not quite as abundant.

Director Ricky J. Martinez has presented a fine cast. John Manzelli is both hilarious and touching as Sebastian. He tells us of the death of his mother. She was struck by a falling shower head. That's it  He could be discussing the price of carrots. No filial love here. Sebastian once had an article published in Vanity Fair but is now $45,000 in debt. He's in the graveyard where his mother has just been buried.  He's reading Helter Skelter and trying his best to ignore his sister Bernadette (Katherine Amadeo). She's just finished singing “This Could Be the Start of Something Big” over their mother's grave.  She wore a simple little black dress because her mother hated it. She is with her husband Kip (Clint Hooper), a grimly sensible dentist who detests teeth and bloody, gaping maws. 

Sebastian visits Hillary, his psychoanalyst (a barely recognizable Barbara Sloan), pines for his long dead gay lover and writes letters to convicted murderer Dylan (Lorenzo D Guiterrez III) who has the sweetest southern accent.

There is a touch of madness throughout this show with actors at times going hysterically over the top and this is just fine. Katherine Amadeo's Bernadette is an anorexic, mouth-twitching, emotional wreck whose ambition is to become an alcoholic. Barbara Sloan's Hillary, the psychoanalyst, is a manic, guilt ridden mess.  Sloan also doubles as the character Miranda.

Silver's men are no less disturbed. Hooper's Kip holds everything beneath the surface to great effect; don't ever get caught in his dental chair.  Guiterrez (Tyler the murderer) also plays a venomous rent boy toying with a reluctant Sebastien.  

Watch for Kip's paintings, the sores on Hillary's legs and the stains on her dress, Sebastian's teaching the baby to walk, Bernadette crying and modeling.  And a warning: don't bring your kiddies to see this play.

Nicole Quintana has designed an ingenious set, evolving from a minimalist cemetery through office, sleazy hotel room and finally to a fully dressed living room.

K. Blair Brown's costumes, Ozzie Quintera's sound and the uncredited lighting are all first rate.

There's a whole lot going on in Raised In Captivity, funny stuff and serious stuff, and Ricky J. Martinez has directed this melange in fine style.  

Raised In Captivity plays through May 16 at New Theatre, 4120 Laguna St., Coral Gables.  For tickets call 305.443.5909 or visit www.new-theatre.org.

 Photos by Roger Martin

 

 

 

 

The Quarrel

by Roger Martin on April 26, 2010

I BELIEVE AND I DON'T

Not having any great faith in the religious world, I approached The Quarrel at GableStage with some hesitation. Was I going to get beaten about the ears by proselytizing bores, (hardly likely as Jews don't proselytize), get lost in the tendrils of Jewish lore (no) or sit with glazed eyes as two people screamed at each other? (No again, definitely not.) I should have known better for this was Avi Hoffman and Chaz Mena being directed by Joe Adler.

It's 1948 in Mount Royal Park in Montreal and Chaim Kovler (Chaz Mena) is visiting from New York.

He spies a Rabbi praying. It's Hersh Rasseyner (Avi Hoffman), a long ago friend from Bialystok, Poland. They are Holocaust survivors, both dragged down with guilt. They lost families to the Nazis. Could they have done more? There is resentment, one for the other, for long ago actions.

Hersh believes in God and Chaim has lost his faith. How could God allow these horrendous crimes? Uh-oh, this doesn't sound good. But wait, there's more. Layer upon layer of more. Seventy-five minutes (no intermission) of anger, forgiveness, love, lust, frustration, resignation, sorrow, happiness, and the two men in a little song and dance that will break your heart. The play I didn't particularly want to see is utterly fascinating.

 

Avi Hoffman and Chaz Mena seem born for this piece. I would gladly have spent another seventy-five minutes in their company.

Mark Della Ventura plays Joshua, a student of Hersh's, who in a short sharp scene interrogates Chaim to devastating effect. Della Ventura is someone to watch.

There is a fine set by Lyle Baskin and imaginative lighting by Jeff Quinn, with Matt Corey's usual good sound design.

The Quarrel, written by David Brandes and Joseph Telushkin, is based on the Yiddish story, "My Quarrel with Hersh Rasseyner" by Chaim Grade.

It doesn't seem possible that Joe Adler could top his last production, Blasted, for audience impact, but he's done just that with this gem.

The Quarrel plays through May 23 at GableStage at the Biltmore, 1200 Anastasia Ave., Coral Gables. For tickets call 305.445.1119 or visit www.gablestage.org.

Going to See the Elephant

by Roger Martin on April 25, 2010

Theatre Review

Look Out Fer Them Thar Injuns, Wolves An' Eastern Wimmin

The Women's Theatre Project has just opened their run of Going to See the Elephant and while driving up to the theatre last night, and being a little loose in the PC mode, I couldn't help wondering how a collaborative effort between six women working on one play would turn out.

Pretty darn well, I'm here to tell you.

The six women are Karen Hensel, Elana Kent, Patti Johns, Sylvia Meredith, Elizabeth Shaw and Laura Toffenetti. Phew!

Set on the Kansas prairie a few years after the civil war, the play gives us four women trying to survive an existence that could best be described as grim, dangerous and ultimately boring.

To them “going to see the elephant” is peering over the hill, looking for the greener grass, and having the courage to keep trying to do just that day after day after day.

Lights up and we're in the artfully designed front yard of a dilapidated sod house. Maw Wheeler, (Sally Bondi) wearing more aging make-up than Chief Rain In The Face on his first war party, and Sara, (Anne Chamberlain) her daughter-in-law, let us know just how tough life on the prairie really is.

Mrs. Nichols (Cinda Vivanco) is the refined Eastern lady whose husband is dying, “bleeding from the gut”, somewhat noisily, inside the cabin. Maw is trying to nurse him but Mrs. Nichols is determined to get them both out of there and back East just as soon as possible, even if it kills him. And who can blame her?

The fourth of these tough women is neighbor Etta Bailey (Jackie Rivera) who's just trudged 20 miles alone across the prairie carrying the white satin for her wedding gown. She's filthy.

There's a lot of sweet humor in Going to See the Elephant. There's terrific suspense when the wolves, or maybe it's the Indians, come prowling in the night. And there's great emotion when Mrs. Nichols speaks of her dead son, buried in a cardboard box in a shallow grave in the sand and has the eternal wind uncovered and torn the thin cardboard? She's handing on his expensive Eastern clothes to Sara's boy, unseen, but obviously dressed in the rags of the prairies. At least he survived. Sara's first child, a daughter, died after only three weeks.

Both Anne Chamberlain and Jackie Rivera are recent BFA graduates of the New World School of the Arts but here they perform far beyond their years. Anne Chamberlain is so grounded on stage she locks the show in place from start to finish. And Jackie Rivera's Etta, traumatized by her kidnapping by the Cheyenne, is jittery rock solid as she tells of her wedding plans and then, later, bravely speaks for the first time of her life with the Indians.

Jodi Dellaventura gets cheers for the realistic set.

Despite minor annoyances such as abrupt music and light cuts, director Genie Croft has presented an entertaining production of a show that has a little singing, some blood and guts, high emotion and some good performances.

Going to See the Elephant runs through May 16 at the Women's Theatre Project at the Sixth Star Studios, 505 NW 1st Ave., Ft. Lauderdale. Call 866.811.4111 or visit www.womenstheatreproject.com.

Dying City

by Roger Martin on April 19, 2010

IS YOU IS OR IS YOU AIN'T MY BABY?

Review of Mosaic Theatre's Dying City

Let me be upfront about this: I didn't much like the script for Dying City. I found it cold and mean-spirited with little to like about the two characters. Sure, it digs deeper and deeper as the play progresses, revealing secrets..some that shock, others that don't. But don't most good plays do this?

But that's not to say that Mosaic Theatre's production isn't a good one. It is. With good actors, good direction by Richard J. Simon and a great set by Douglas Grinn.

Erin Joy Schmidt plays Kelly, an Iraq war widow, grieving for her husband, killed 12 months previously. She's packing his books, preparing to leave town, when the doorbell rings. It's Peter, her husband's twin brother. Ricky Waugh is Peter. He enters Kelly's New York apartment after much hesitation on her part. They haven't seen each other since the funeral. He's an almost-movie star currently playing in a long-running stage hit in Manhattan. She hasn't seen the show. He's just walked off in mid performance. They have issues. They get to these after the exposition.

Ricky Waugh also plays his twin brother Craig, Kelly's husband, and he handles the transitions well, easily switching from gay actor to warrior in the play's several flashbacks. I must admit, however, that Superman and the phone booth came to mind every time Peter went into the bedroom only to re-emerge as Craig.

Without giving away too much of the plot, Kelly's marriage wasn't idyllic, Peter has boyfriend troubles and there are long conversations about the evils of war and the changes inflicted on its combatants.

Mentions of Iraq and Viet Nam.

Kelly and Craig talked on the telephone during his deployment; no emails. Ever. Peter showed up at the apartment carrying a thick sheaf of printed copies of all the emails he and Craig sent to each other during this same period. Peter insists on reading them aloud to Kelly, and guess what, the first one he reads contains information no widow should have to hear. I must admit, at first reading he omits this detail and it is only at her insistence that he finally reads it. Insert plot creaks here. I still haven't figured out why he brought them in the first place.

There's no doubt Erin Joy Schmidt is a good actress, but she really doesn't have anywhere to go in this piece. Sorrowing widow, aggrieved wife, happiness is a cup of tea and a TV show.

But don't let me put you off. This is a fine production of a difficult work.

Dying City runs through May 9 at the Mosaic Theatre. The Mosaic Theatre is located at 12200 West Broward Blvd. In Plantation. For tickets call 954.577.8243 or visit www.mosaictheatre.com.

 

Distracted

by Roger Martin on April 18, 2010

Theatre Review

Drug Him or Hug Him?

What's A Mama to Do?

Mama is Laura Turnbull, the play is Distracted at the Caldwell Theatre, and Mama opens the show sitting downstage center, breaking the fourth wall and gabbling her way through a prayer to Saint Francis.

It takes about two hours with a fifteen minute intermission, a stream of jokes, a couple of infomercials and a dash of poignancy before her plea is granted and we all leave happy.

Stephen G. Anthony is Mama's husband Dad and the two are being torn apart by the behavior of their nine-year-old son, Jesse. The kid has problems. He misbehaves, he's rude, he yells, he swears, he disrupts his class, in short he's generally just a pain in the ass. And, thank God, he's offstage. But his piercing shrieks ring throughout the theatre.

Dad thinks he's just “being a boy.” Mama isn't convinced and drags the kid to a doctor. Well, several, as one doctor leads to another and another and maybe even one more. I lost count, as Kim Cozort, Lela Elam and Michael McKeever play doctors, psychiatrists and psychologists who probably have more problems than their patients. But that doesn't stop them from diagnosing young Jesse as having ADD (attention deficit disorder), and as their fees escalate (left unsaid) the poor kid's got ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder). And here comes the Ritalin.

Lisa Loomer, who wrote Distracted, manages to slip in the mini-lectures about ADD and ADHD, and the pros and cons of the drugs, without slowing the pace or lightening the humor. And there is plenty to laugh at.

Gone far too long from South Florida, Kim Cozort opens her first scene with Dr. Waller snarling into the phone: “Take the damn Lexus but you will not get my dog.” Then she's Jesse's school teacher Mrs. Holly and neighbor Sherry and I'm laughing once again.

Kim Ostrenko hits triples as Mama's know-it-all neighbor Vera, a ditzy waitress and a UPS driver. Nikki Bromberg graduated from FAU just last year and is scary good as Natalie, the babysitter who's into cutting. Of course, if you want a dissertation on the fine art of using the F-word, don't miss Lela Elam, who doesn't flinch at full pronunciation.

And Michael McKeever in a studly wig is a sight you won't soon forget. He plays three doctors and an actor with ADD. Type casting?

Tim Bennett's set is huge, wooden and vaguely reminiscent of school houses, doctors' offices, nice suburban homes and a Greek temple. Two huge video screens hang upstage, showing a constant shuffle of news clips, pictures and paintings, and serve to delineate the various scenes and locations.

There's no doubt Distracted smacks of sit-com and lecture halls and has an easy, predictable ending, but this production, directed by Clive Cholerton and well led by Laura Turnbull and Stephen G. Anthony is generally great fun.

Distracted plays through May 16 at the Caldwell Theatre Company. The Caldwell Theatre Company is located at 7901 N. Federal Highway in Boca Raton. For tickets call 561.241.7432 or visit www.caldwelltheatre.com.

Carbonell Awards

by Roger Martin on April 14, 2010

Well, did you evah?

What a swell party this is!

What frails, what frocks!

What furs, what rocks!

Cole Porter

DuBarry Was A Lady

1939

 

 

 

And Cole Porter just about sums up this year's Carbonell Awards Show. Produced and directed by Amy London, this 34th edition was a fast two hours of music and laughs and, well, just pure entertainment.

 

The Carbonell Choir opened the evening with their version of “A Partridge In A Pear Tree.” The Choir? Ah. Irene Adjan, Steve Anthony, Sally Bondi, Avi Hoffman (with full rabbinical beard), Christopher Kent, Julie Kleiner, Lisa Manuli and Barry Tarallo. 

Offstage announcer Wayne Legette then brought on presenters and winners for four categories:

Best Lighting Design: John Manzelli of The Naked Stage for Macon City: A Comic Book Play.

Best Sound Design: Matt Corey of Mad Cat Theatre for Broadsword.

Best Costume Design: Brian O'Keefe of Palm Beach Dramaworks for A Doll's House.

Best Set Design: Sean McClelland of Actors' Playhouse for Les Miserables 

Endearing and acrobatic, Nathaniel Braga sang and danced “Bigger Isn't Better” from Barnum at the Maltz Jupiter Theatre.

 

Four more awards:

Best New Work: Peter Colley, Robert Creighton, Christopher McGovern for Cagney at Florida Stage.

Best Ensemble: Farragut North at GableStage.

Best Choreography: AC Cuilla for Vices: A Love Story at Caldwell Theatre.

Best Musical Direction: Eric Alsford for Les Miserables at Actors' Playhouse. 

Best New Work winner, Robert Creighton strutted and sang “Tough Guy” from Cagney at Florida Stage.

And then Gregg Weiner won Best Supporting Actor for Farragut North, with Elena Maria Garcia winning Best Supporting Actress for Summer Shorts at City Theatre, and Gary Marachek and Gwen Hollander taking Best Supporting Actor and Actress In A Musical for Les Miserables. 

David Michael Felty's turn was next with an octave shattering performance of “Bring Him Home” from Les Miserables. 

And not surprisingly, GableStage was awarded the Bill Von Maurer Award for Theatrical Excellence. 

Oscar Cheda, presently on a national tour of In The Heights and one of the evening's presenters, was gotcha'd by co-presenter Stacy Schwartz when she led the packed house into singing, read-bellowing, “Happy Birthday.” It was his 50th.

Best Actor In A Play went to Paul Tei for Speed-the-Plow at GableStage, Barbara Bradshaw won Best Actress for Why Torture is Wrong, and The People Who Love Them at Mosaic and Joe Adler won Best Director for Speed-The-Plow. 

Just before Robert Heuer was presented with the George Abbot Award for Outstanding Achievement in the Arts, Shane Tanner did a fine job with the difficult piece “In Praise of Women” from A Little Night Music at Broward Stage Door and then the Best Actor In A Musical Award was presented to Brad Oscar for Barnum, Best Actress went to Holly Shunkey for Vices: A Love Story and Best Director went to David Arisco for Les Miserables. 

Everett Bradley blew up the stage with “Some Like It” from Vices: A Love Story. A magical performance.

And the evening came to a close with Joe Adler and David Arisco winning Best Productions for Speed-the-Plow and Les Miserables. 

The excellent musicians were Caryl Fantel, Rupert Ziawinski, Roy Fantel, Andrea Gilbert and Eric Alsford. 

And it really was a swell party. Thanks Amy and all the gang. It's nice to see the Carbonell Awards back on top.

Twelfth Night

Amateur Dramatics in the Village Hall

by Roger Martin on March 26, 2010

Carson Kievman, who directed SoBe Arts' Twelfth Night now playing at the Little Stage Theatre on Miami Beach has been reported in the Miami Herald thusly: “While he thinks he found ``a lot of great actors' for Twelfth Night, he calls the acting talent in the area ``sparse.' ”

Uh oh, that's asking for it. And, sadly, he got it.

Contrary to perhaps popular belief, critics do not go to the theatre hoping to find the worst. They're looking for the best. And it's tough when the best is barely mediocre, if that.

Of the fourteen person cast in Twelfth Night, two are Equity, two are steadily working non-union professionals and the rest are, gee, I don't know what. There are some great credentials floating around here, including those of the director, but the end result is a mishmash of desperation, ineptitude, and molasses.

Twelfth Night, performed somewhat in the round, is staged on the theatre floor with set dressing comprised of sack-clothed containers of shrubs and small trees. Two musicians are penned by black cloth into a little square. We can see their bobbing heads, but not them playing their instruments. Actor entrances and exits are a wonder to behold, and listen to: down a vom from the lobby and through doors on either side of the stage. If someone in the company knew how to rag a door and hang black curtains perhaps we would not have been treated to the incessant clicking of door handles and the brightly lighted view of Washington Avenue.

Seating is on either side of the vom and beyond the playing area looking back towards the lighting instruments. This is where one unfortunate audience member spent the three hour show first shielding her eyes with her program, then donning her sunglasses, and finally using both sunglasses and program. Other audience members left during the twenty minute intermission.

Oh, by the way, it's Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, the one with the line: “Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em.” This quote is printed on the admission tickets. Uh oh, once again.

If I'm harsh here it's because I'm disappointed. The cast, the crew and the audience deserve something better than this.

Twelfth Night runs thru April 4. SoBe Institute of the Arts, 2100 Washington Ave., Miami Beach. 305.674.9220 or www.sobearts.org.

Orphans

My wife was in tears last night...

by Roger Martin on March 23, 2010

..and so were other audience members, such was the power on stage at The Alliance Theatre Lab's Friday night performance of Orphans, written by Lyle Kessler. 

Adalberto Acevado directed and Justin McLendon, Travis Reiff and David Sirois performed at such a pitch that “I laughed, I cried” became the truth once again. Rocketing around the stage, leaping furniture, slapping, tripping, wrestling, slamming into walls and onto table tops, Sirois as big brother Treat and McLendon as little brother Phillip create the perfect “you're the stupid, sickly little brother who can't read and can't leave the house, and I'm the big brother who's protecting you by beating you down.”

And then Treat, who 's putting food on the table (mayonnaise and canned tuna) by cutting people and  stealing their jewelery and wallets, brings home a drunk he's met in a bar. It's Harold, played by Reiff. Treat ties him to a chair and poor little pajama clad Phillip (he wears a batter's helmet when he feels threatened) looks at Harold with such delight we swear he 's just been given a new puppy. His smile lights the theatre. 

Harold is a Business? Man from Chicago who is part Colonel Stoopnagel, Senator Claghorn,  Jubilation T Cornpone and Foghorn Leghorn (Google 'em).  And a sweetheart, kind and generous.  Sometimes.  Sirois' Treat is a punk, see him preening in his new suit, foul-mouthed, manipulative and fearful. But when he cries, we cry with him. McLendon's Phillip is a jitterbug, hysterical at times, viz his singing black man, and cunning as a native dog. Harold changes Treat  and Phillip, not much of a plot, really, but how he handles them and they him, is fascinating. Which I guess is all you need.

Adalberto Acevedo designed the set, a messily cluttered living room that pulls us in, and the very effective sound, and Skye Whitcomb designed the excellent lighting for Orphans, a well presented, well acted and well directed show.

Orphans runs at the Alliance Theatre Lab through April 4. Main Street Playhouse, 6766 Main Street, Miami Lakes. For reservations call 305.259.0418 or visit www.thealliancetheatrelab.com.

Photos by Roger Martin