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Theatre Reviews

With This Hoof Pick I Thee...

by Roger Martin on March 17, 2010

EQUUS, the 1973 Peter Shaffer warhorse, excuse me, has been trotted out once again, this time by New Theatre in Coral Gables and what a good thing this is, for we get to see a blazing start to a new career and a star turn by a veteran.

David Hemphill is 17 year old English stable boy, Alan Strang, who, if not mixed up enough by just being 17, is pushed and pulled not only by his domineering, atheist father and his whinging religious mother, but also by his own sexual impulses, (perhaps homoerotic), his inadequacy, his love of violence (the bleeding of Jesus in a picture over his bed), his obsession with equines and the licking of sweat therefrom, until he finally blinds six judgmental horses with a handy hoof pick.

James Samuel Randolph is Dr Martin Dysart, psychiatrist and failed husband in his own eyes, lover of Greek myths and would be savior of Alan Strang. A stolid man who rages with jealousy at the passion of Strang and knows he will never reach such feelings.

Linda Bernhard is the caring magistrate who urges Dysart to treat Strang. She is worried about the boy and more so about Dysart himself, whose vulnerability she senses and would like to use to her own advantage.

Laura Turnbull is Strang's mother, horrified, loving and helpless, and Josh Foldy is Strang's rigid father, a man who seeks relief at dirty movies.

Ricky J Martinez directed EQUUS and staged it well. Giant columns reaching floor to ceiling and suggesting horses legs and hooves line each side of the stage and the set within is a simple affair of a few benches which become a kitchen, hospital, stable, office, cinema, bus, etc. The lesser characters move around the columns, hiding, resting, talking, humming, reacting and always a presence to the action.

And the horses. They prance around, stamping hooves and tossing manes, beautiful skeletal heads bobbing, but somehow they don't quite impart the power. Martinez has elected to use all the actors except Randolph and Hemphill but including Melissa Smith, Steven A. Chambers, Ricardo Rodriquez and Vanessa Thompson as the horses. Rodriquez plays Nugget, the horse Strang rides naked at night, and within whose eyes he sees God, and Rodriquez with his cut and muscled body is very much an imposing animal. But the others actors are just that, actors, clothed and shod and wearing horses heads. It makes sense financially not to employ five more actors ( there are nine in the cast already) but what a difference five fit young men with sweating, bare torsos would have made.

EQUUS is known for its nudity in the love making scene in the stable between Jill Mason (Melissa Smith), and Strang and it is here, unfortunately, that the suspension of disbelief is shattered, for Melissa, who seduces Strang, in this production does not fully undress and we are left with a naked Strang ostensibly trying to make love to a girl who is still wearing her bikini bottoms. We are stopped, focus gone. Hello, these are just actors. This isn't real. And it's puzzling because there is much cigarette smoking in this play, none of it really germane to the proceedings, but it's there and the audience coughs. One must stick to the script, but apparently not if modesty is going to take a hit. A strange decision akin to the dancer several years ago who wore bicycle shorts under her 1920s period skirt. (But not at New Theatre.)

This carping aside, Ricky Martinez has given us his best show in a long time with solid acting from all, brilliant at times from Randolph and especially Hemphill, who displays a rare emotional range.

EQUUS runs through April 4. New Theatre, 4120 Laguna St., Coral Gables. 305.443.5909 or www.new-theatre.org.

Photos by Marj O'Neill-Butler

Miss Saigon at the Miracle Theatre

This is a must-see musical-drama that runs through April 4th

by Marguerite Gil on March 17, 2010

One of the most spellbinding-theatrical spectacles anywhere has arrived at the Miracle Theatre in Coral Gables. It’s Miss Saigon and it’s definitely worth the drive. The Tony Award-winning, international Broadway sensation, from the creators of Les Miserables opened on March 3rd. Composed by Claude-Michel Schonberg with lyricist Alain Boublil and Richard Maltby, Jr., this epic production is a testament to the human spirit and a scathing indictment of the tragedies of war. It deals with controversial, contemporary issues that define the modern-day world.

Fueled by raw emotion, Miss Saigon tells the tattered love story of an American GI and a young Vietnamese woman during the Vietnam War. They fall in love only to be separated during the fall of Saigon. Artistic Director David Arisco said, “Years ago, if you told me that we would be presenting Les Mis, I would have said, NO WAY. Now we’re presenting Miss Saigon, it’s unbelievable! This is OUR production! It was cast by us! We brought 14 people from New York but everyone else is local. I’m very proud to bring Miss Saigon to South Florida.”

This writer loved the show. It’s truly Broadway in Miami.

NOTE: The opening act is rather risqué and not suitable for children under 15. Otherwise, try not to miss this incredible production. Also, note that it runs about 3 hours so a bite to eat before you get to the theater might be a good idea. But you’ll no doubt be mesmerized by the singing-dancing-actors who display such talent and showmanship. Lighting, music (live orchestra), special effects and costumes are noteworthy. This is a must-see musical-drama that runs through April 4th.

Miracle Theatre is located at 280 Miracle Mile in the heart of Coral Gables. For reservations call 305.444.9293 or visit www.actorsplayhouse.org.

A Full English Breakfast

“Pinter's The Dumb Waiter still amuses.”

by Roger Martin on March 10, 2010

Fifty years on from its premier production in London, Harold Pinter's The Dumb Waiter still amuses, puzzles and ultimately shocks, or perhaps not, in its latest reincarnation at the Promethean Theatre.

Directed by Margaret M. Ledford, the play opens with Ricky Waugh, as Ben, lying on a bed, reading a newspaper and barely noticeable. Gregg Weiner as Gus is across the room, lacing his shoes. Gus clears his throat, almost a little tune, enjoying the lace tying. He stands, takes a few steps then falters. There is something in his shoe. He rips off the shoe, still tied, and shakes out two pieces of pink cardboard. He puts them in his pocket. He sits, unlaces the shoe, again with the tuneful little cough, and puts it on once more. Again a few steps and this time the other shoe hurts. Another piece of pink cardboard. It goes in his other pocket. Once again he sits, unlaces the shoe, coughs his little aria, and puts the shoe back on. Now he is ready and we are already amused.

Gus is a great shambling bearded mess. He combs his hair and it makes no difference. He doesn't seem to care.

But Ben does. Behind the newspaper he is the perfect low level bureaucrat, hair just so, prissy little mustache and always so right. Despite his heft he's a shrill little man. And he yells at Gus because he's the senior.

He reads to Gus from the newspaper: a little girl killed a cat (or maybe her big brother did and blamed her, they conjecture) and a ninety year man is killed when he crawls under a truck. (Terrible.) Ben reads to Gus then carefully tears the stories out of the newspaper and puts them into his briefcase. A little ceremony here.

Gus thinks someone has already slept in his bed. He sniffs the bed, he sniffs his armpits...“'s my pong he admits.” He is bored. When are they going to find out? What are they waiting for? Gus wants answers and Ben won't give them.

And so it goes in the dingy basement in which Ben and Gus await their orders. Gus goes to the bathroom often. He ponders the vagaries of the plumbing. “It's the ballcock,” Ben explains and Gus laughs, embarrassed and unbelieving. Gus admires the crockery, some with a white band and some with a black band. “I do like nice crockery,” says Gus. Ben rereads the same newspaper. He is so tight he vibrates.

A cup of tea is most important. But they don't have any matches. Until an envelope appears under the door. It holds 12 matches. Gus pulls a gun from under his pillow and checks the corridor outside the door. It is empty. They argue over which is more correct: light the kettle or put the kettle on.
But they don't have a shilling for the meter anyway.

It's apparent they're hired killers, waiting for the details of their next victim. What if it's a girl, Gus worries. They're much messier to kill. They don't hold together like men. And who cleans up after, anyway? And then with a crash the dumb waiter slides down from the floor above. They both pull guns and Gus takes a note out of the dumb waiter. He scans it with his pistol. It's an order for food, not the marching orders they've been waiting for.

The dumb waiter goes back up and then crashes down again. Another food order. Another pistol scan. They send up what little food they have, scrounged from Gus's back pack. Up and down again. A tea bag is returned. But no shilling. Another rise and fall, this time for exotic fare. And each time the pistol scans.

Gus roars up the speaking tube to whoever is above. Ben takes the tube and speaks calmly, professionally and listens intently. Ben, raging, strikes Gus and then atoning, reads another story from the newspaper. Gus grudgingly comments, accepting the reading as apology. Gus leaves the basement to get a drink of water. Ben listens on the speaking tube to someone above...Pinteresque pause...

And once again, so it goes, triviality obscuring intent, until sixty minutes of the one act seem to have passed in fifteen minutes and, as they say, all is suddenly revealed. Really?

And of course there's much more to The Dumb Waiter than told here.
Ricky Waugh and Gregg Weiner have both won acting awards and it's easy to see why. They have tremendous, if different, strengths. Weiner seems to pop from the stage; it's hard to pull your eyes away.

With Dan Gelbmann's set and lighting and Matt Corey's sound design and original score, plus two fine actors, Margaret Ledford has put together a worthy Dumb Waiter.

The Dumb Waiter at the Promethean Theatre runs through March 21. The Promethean Theatre is located at 4 NE 44 St., Miami. For reservations call 786.317.7580 or visit www.theprometheantheatre.org.

BLASTED

GableStage’s recent offering is extraordinary theatre

by Roger Martin on March 02, 2010

And that's just the way you'll feel, blasted, when you leave GableStage after the show. Ninety minutes of acts you've probably never seen before on the legitimate stage roll by and you sit there, wondering. What's left to show, where can theatre go after this … and do I really want to see the next step?  Answers:  nothing, I don't know and yes, yes, yes.
 
There's a not quite luxury hotel room, a paranoid, racist tabloid journalist, Ian, who wears a shoulder holstered gun, chain smokes, drinks gin, flaunts his middle-aged nudity and in turnabout after turnabout abuses then protests his love for his former girl friend, Cate. Cate stutters, has epileptic fits, strokes the hotel room walls, is a little slow and does not love Ian. A war is raging outside in the city of Leeds and a soldier breaks into the room. He is not bringing flowers and joy.
 
There's no doubt BLASTED is a difficult play, both to stage and to see.  Had playwright Sara Kane not been desperately depressed and ultimately suicidal could she have written it? I think not. But despite the violence, the sex, the cruelty, and worse, there is a strong sense of tenderness that runs through this production; Ian with his love for Cate, the soldier with his horrors and Cate in her simpleness.
 
Joe Adler's direction is, as usual, just right, with Tim Connelly's set, Jeff Quinn's lighting and Matt Corey's sound driving the play without pause and with shocking effect.
 
Todd Allen Durkin is Ian, Erik Fabregat is the Soldier and Betsy Graver is Cate. “Is” is the operative word here. You won't see any acting on this stage.
 
This is  English playwright Sarah Kane's first play, produced originally at The Royal Court Theatre in London in 1995 and reviled by many critics. Kane suffered from depression most of her life and committed suicide in 1999. A second production of Blasted was staged, again at The Royal Court, in 2001, this time to more understanding.
 
If you're a lover of extraordinary theatre, see Blasted at GableStage.  It will stay with you.
Playing through March 28, 2010. GableStage at the Biltmore,1200 Anastasia Ave.,  Coral Gables. For reservations call 305.445.1119 or visit www.GableStage.com.

Joan Didion’s Play The Year of Magical Thinking

“AND IT WILL HAPPEN TO YOU”

by Roger Martin on February 25, 2010

 

Angie Radosh stands in her little nook, the stage at the Women's Theatre Project, stares at the audience and says “This happened on December 30, 2003. That may seem a while ago but it won’t when it happens to you. And it will happen to you.”

The opening lines of Joan Didion's play The Year of Magical Thinking impart a dread that lasts long after the play is over. Didion is telling the story of her husband's death and the death of their daughter and the universality of the grief permeates the recounting.

Joan Didion and her husband, John Gregory Dunne, both novelists and screenwriters, were talking at their supper table, she preparing food and he sipping scotch. An unexpected silence, she looked up and he was slumped over the table, dead. A joke? No joke. Unbelievable.

Angie Radosh, as Joan Didion, makes us believe the unbelievable. Her husband is not dead, he's coming back; she hides behind her stoicism, she's a “cool one”, she can handle it all, because she knows he's just gone away. He'll be back. “Magical thinking” will make it so. Don't throw away his shoes, don't correct a typo in his writing, for doing any of these thing will make his death a truth.

We are bombarded with doctors, social workers, medical terms, autopsy results, plastic bags with the dead husband's belongings, ambulance men, blood and discarded items on the kitchen floor, but none of these refute the belief that “he's coming back”.

After what feels like a forced intermission the play switches focus from the death of the father to that of their adopted daughter, Quintana Roo, in 2005. Married only five months in 2003, the daughter contacted pneumonia, went into septic shock and was placed into an induced coma. Joan Didion and her husband had just returned from visiting her the night he died.

During the 18 months that elapse between her father's death and her own, Quintana Roo is in and out of hospitals. Didion gives us the memories of flying her daughter on a private charter from California to New York, sitting on oxygen bottles because the plane was so small, sharing hamburgers bought at a tiny airfield in Kansas. And wanting to visit her daughter in the hospital, but hiding in the corridor so her daughter won't see her because magical thinking says she must. Her husband might come back. But she is outed by a hospital aide and must tell Quintana Roo her father has died.

The Year of Magical Thinking, although a retelling of one woman's hell, resonates for all of us.

The space at The Women's Theatre Project is small, but that intimacy suits this production well.

A simple set and lighting marred only by the lowering of the lights to emphasize emotional highlights.

This was a distraction as was the sound of breaking surf when Malibu was mentioned.

A ninety minute one-person play is a difficult thing. For the actor, the director and the audience. A momentary lapse on stage and one feels the need for other actors, fresh faces, new voices. Keep me engrossed, please. But Angie Radosh never lapses. She gives Didion's spare lines such grace and emotion that we are captured from start to finish. Not really a play, but a monologue, Angie Radosh and director Genie Croft do very well by The Year of Magical Thinking. See it.

The Women's Theatre Project, Sixth Star Studios, 505 NW 1st Avenue, Ft Lauderdale. Runs through March 14. Call 866.811.4111 or visit www.womenstheatreproject.com.

 

 

 

PLATANOS AND COLLARD GREENS

Offers Delicious Evening of Theatre

by James Cubby on February 19, 2010

PLATANOS AND COLLARD GREENS; the award-winning; multicultural comedy; opened last night at the Carnival Studio Theater in the Ziff Ballet Opera House. The play is described as a thought-provoking romantic comedy that addresses stereotypes; prejudices; and urban myth and it does all that with fast-paced dialogue and in-your-face humor. The characters were witty; fun and full of attitude and the dialogue (often in rhyme) was beautifully written and masterfully delivered. The patter was machine-gun fast with such gems as gimme my glasses I need to see what I'm saying.

The two lead characters Freeman and OK; played respectively by Phillip J. Smith and Preston Taylor; were competive word-smiths who never let the ball drop and kept scoring points with the audience. While these two fine actors seemed to drive the tale home; the entire cast gave shining performances and had the audience on the floor in a variety of hilarious scenes that included white folks done messed up my rhythm! my soul doth shake; and I'll never forgive myself. Doni Comas; who plays Pops; commanded the stage with his energetic humor yet was very touching in a scene about his deceased wife.

While the play focuses on the racial tensions and attractions between African-Americans and Latinos; the story is more than a tale of racial barriers but a modern day West Side Story and can be enjoyed by all. The cast of PLATANOS AND COLLARD GREENS do this play justice but take note as these actors may be using this vehicle as their springboard to success as they all desire it. Take note of their names as you'll hear about them all again.

PLATANOS AND COLLARD GREENS runs through February 28. For tickets call 305.949.6722 or online at www.arshtcenter.org.

A Toast to The Cocktail Hour

Edge Rep presents A. R. Gurney’s The Cocktail Hour

by James Cubby on February 10, 2010

The Cocktail Hour, which premiered in 1988 at the Old Globe Theatre in San Diego, proves that Gurney had a way with words and was a master at drawing-room drama. It’s the story of a family reunion of sorts and when the son returns home with his latest play, the martinis begin to flow, the tension mounts, the mother becomes a bit tipsy, voices are raised, and the roast burns to a crisp.  The Edge Rep production offers an excellent version of this play. The cast: Joel Kolker, Brian McCormack, Joanne Marsic and Rachel Stone all give stellar performances deserving of a much larger space than the small stage at The Literary Café.

The Cocktail Hour, directed by Jerry Jensen, runs thru February 14 (Fri. & Sat at 8, Sun. at 3) at Edge Rep at The Literary Café, 12325 NE 6th Ave., N. Miami. 786-355-0976 or edgetheatre@earthlink.net. 

Sins of the Mother is Sinfully Good

Playwright Israel Horovitz directs heavenly production

by J.W. Arnold on February 02, 2010

Small towns are surprisingly complex places. They may lack the density and congestion of a big city, and the pace of life is certainly slower, but don’t be fooled. There are complex social strata and plenty of secrets in these small towns. Blood lines run thick and an affront against one can be an affront against all.

Sins of the Mother, acclaimed playwright Israel Horovitz’s latest work, explores the relationships in his own adopted hometown, Gloucester, Massachusetts, which he has called home for 30 years. Florida Stage’s production, only the third and under the direction of 70-year-old writer, offers special insight into Horovitz’s observations of life in the struggling seaside fishing community.

Richard Crowell’s thorough sets—you have to see the show to truly appreciate his flawless attention to detail—first transport the audience from Florida Stage’s strip mall theater in Manalapan to a neglected union hall in Gloucester where Horowitz introduces four men who, in their own ways, must deal with the “sins” of their mothers: Bobby Maloney (Gordon McConnell), the Vietnam vet fighting a personal war at home; Douggie Shimmatarro (Francisco Solorzano), who returns to town only to learn of his mother’s troubles with drugs; Frankie Verga (Brian Claudio Smith), an identical twin who allows his parent’s nasty divorce to poison his hopes and dreams; and finally, Dubbah Morrison (David Nail), a shlub of a man who is along for the ride.

Horovitz’s empty union hall is a strong metaphor for the health of the community and its residents. As the commercial fishing industry tanked in the ‘80s and nearly half the local fleet mysteriously sank, many of the residents turned to drugs and the drug trade to cope with the growing sense of despair. One by one, the excellent ensemble of actors is forced to confront their demons.

The second act takes place in Bobby’s home just a few minutes before the wake for his wife, who presumably died of AIDS contracted from her husband. Smith pulls double duty when he reemerges as Frankie’s twin, Philly, a successful car dealer who abandoned his life in Gloucester a decade earlier. Smith not only creates one compelling character, but manages to portray a twin who is anything but identical on the inside, but equally disturbed by the events of his past.

Thanks to a few artfully placed jokes—references to Oprah and Facebook, and an ongoing gag about the neighborhood’s complicated family trees—the story remains engrossing and dark without completely sending audiences into an emotional abyss.

Louis Tyrrell’s company rarely disappoints and, in addition to set designer Crowell, the technical team again delivers work on par with the cast. Matt Kelly’s sound design, Erin Amico’s costumes and Suzanne M. Jones’ lighting design, are first-rate.

Sins of the Mother runs through March 7 at Florida Stage.  For tickets and information, visit www.floridastage.org.

 

 

Actors Sizzle, Play Fizzles

Caldwell production features two stand-outs in a comedic dud

by Mary Damiano on January 29, 2010

There’s a lot of good and evil on stage right now at the Caldwell Theatre with their current production, a re-telling of the classic tale of the two sides to each man’s psyche.

Chemical Imbalance: A Jekyll and Hyde Play by Lauren Wilson is framed as a piece straight from a 19th century British music hall. Lindsey Forgey, who plays Ivy, a maid in the Jekyll household, introduces the characters and gives a coda to the story. It’s supposed to be a funny, bawdy and not too scary fairy tale.

That framework gives license for a non-realistic evening of theater. Forget character development—most actors here are sight gags, most notably John Felix’s dowager in outrageous drag, Wynn Harmon’s penguin-esque dandy, and Erin Joy Schmidt’s repressed lesbian, whose eyebrows look as if they need their own zip code.

There’s no real twist on Robert Louis Stevenson’s story of good and evil. In this go-round, Dr. Jekyll (Tom Wahl) is something of a mama’s boy, devoted to his mother (Angie Radosh) and sister (Schmidt). He’s been experimenting with good and evil with a potion in his laboratory, and he uses the blood of a pint size set of twins (Tiffany-Leigh Moskow) to perfect his formula. Of course, he is his own guinea pig for the potion, which gives him protruding teeth, mussed up hair and a cartoonish need to kill people. And while all hell does not break loose, and hilarity does not ensue, there are some decent laughs.

Wahl, as Dr. Jekyll and his dentally-challenged alter ego Mr Hyde, is fun to watch. He’s a dynamic performer who can do wonders even with a comedy like this, which is not up to his many talents. The play drags when he’s not on stage. But when he is on stage, scenes sing, such as a drawing room scene in which the Jekyll maids (Laura Turnbull and Forgey) gossip over tea, oblivious to the fact that Mr. Hyde is attempting to kill them in a manner straight from the Wile E. Coyote play book.

Moskow makes a big splash as a Patty McCormack-style bad seed and her angelic twin sister. On stage the college-grad looks like she’s 9 years old, and she and Wahl are responsible for most of the laughs in Chemical Imbalance.

Tim Bennett’s scenic design is inventive, with pull-out set pieces and elaborately painted props—even the tea cups are painted decoys. Alberto Arroyo’s costumes are exaggerated and over the top, making them perfect for this piece.

According to his program notes and pre-curtain speech, director Clive Cholerton chose this play because he loves the sound of laughter in a theatre and he wanted to present a piece of escapism where there are no lessons to be learned, no thinking needed. But escapism doesn’t have to sacrifice sophistication, as Chemical Imbalance: A Jekyll and Hyde Play does. And perhaps today’s audience are too sophisticated for a throwback to 19th century comedy.

Chemical Imbalance: A Jekyll and Hyde Play runs through February 7 at Caldwell Theatre in Boca Rtaon. For tickets and more information, visit www.caldwelltheatre.com.


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