For anyone needing a respite from the blazing summer heat and bleak headlines of the day, I strongly recommend a trip to see the Millbrook Community Players' production of "Belles on Their Toes".
Based on the 1950 follow-up to Frank B. Gilbreth, Jr. and Ernestine Gilbreth Carey's 1948 book "Cheaper by the Dozen", William Roos' dramatization is brought to delightful life by a wonderfully talented ensemble of young and veteran actors under the vibrantly paced direction of Joe Nolin, Jr.
The Golden Age of Radio provides pre-show musical fare, setting the time and tone of the play as the curtain rises on a well-appointed parlour set, reminiscent of a Norman Rockwell "Saturday Evening Post" cover. John Collier and John Chain, with an assist from the cast, have created a richly detailed and impressive set to be proud of.
At the top of Act I, Mrs. Gilbreth [Nichole Quinn] gives last-minute instructions and a warm farewell to her larger than average brood before departing for Europe on a lecture tour. It will be up to the three eldest daughters -- Anne [Katie Moore], Ernestine [Hannah Quates], and Martha [Ashley Joye] -- to hold down the fort and live up to their famous "efficiency expert" parents' reputations. Their father having passed away, the young women have a formidable challenge to keep things running smoothly while Mother is away. They have a bit of extra help in the person of Tom, a handy-man turned cook and home-remedy specialist with his castor oil and quinine concoctions, played with winsome verve by John Chain, current president of the Millbrook Community Players, Inc.
In addition to implementing austere budget policies that include wearing hilariously outdated swimsuits and a six-week moratorium on dating for Ann, Ernestine, and Martha, Martha decides to rent-out Mother's bedroom for extra cash. Mr. Hathaway [Michael Snead] is the kindly and quiet boarder who will play a pivotal role in the resolution of the plot.
Helping and hindering the sisters along the way are their younger siblings: Frank [Chase Adair], Bill [Austin Speigner], Lillian [Kristen Adair], Fred [Nolan Lamar], Dan [Brian Jones], Jack [Max Williams], and Bob [Noah Jones]. This is one talented and focussed group of young performers, running their paces and blocking so well that not once are we pulled away from the story. Well done and impressive work, with successful backstage coordination by Assistant Director, Gail Lombard.
Keeping the belles on their toes is a visit from their busybody Aunt Leora [Emily Barton] and an outbreak of chicken pox, prompting a house call by Dr. Bob [Jason Morgan]. Ernestine fudges a bit on her pledge to not date when she pays increasingly frustrated hostess to her beau, Corey Jackson's scene-stealing Al Lynch, an oily young braggart arriving decked out in a full-length fur coat and armed with ukulele-driven love songs and side-splitting Charleston dance moves.
While the second Act was sluggish at first, the pace quickly recovered with the arrival of David Loring [Daniel Harms], a potential student for the new school venture Mother has planned in order to solve the family's financial worries. Mistakenly believing the young man to be Martha's date, the younger siblings proceed to interrupt the interview with hilarious results.
With money going missing and Tom "ratcheting up" the stakes with a comically out-of-character swat that leads Aunt Leora to bring police officer Mr. Crawford [John Collier] to the house, we barely have time to stop laughing between humorous misunderstandings and gut-busting revelations.
Like homemade ice cream and pink lemonade, The Millbrook Players' production of "Belles on Their Toes" is a summertime treat that takes us to a simpler time, and refreshes us with the soul-soothing balm of laughter.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Theatre AUM: "The Daughters of Abraham" -- Guest Reviewer: Todd Jeffries
In partnership with ALAT, etc. (A Laboratory for Actor Training, experimental theatre company), Theatre AUM's Neil David Seibel has created an enchanting and provocative evening of theatre. Although billed as playwright, director, and choreographer of "The Daughters of Abraham", Seibel points in his Director's Note to the collaborative efforts of an ensemble of men and women who successfully brought this story to life.
The story is at once timely and timeless, intimately exploring the relationships among a group of women from the three major religious traditions of Judaism, Islam, and Christianity. They are an ensemble of mothers, daughters, and sisters, all living in a shared household. As the women struggle to live with each other's differences while finding a common ground, it is this theme of sharing that runs like a golden thread through the narrative of three daughters preparing for their imminent nuptials.
The absence of any pre-show music allows focus on Mike Winkelman's minimalist scenic design. Created from three massive panels of muslin suspended against a black background, the effect is ethereal and makes a truly contemplative place. Chris Rich's warm and magical lighting design lends to the stage a dreamlike quality.
As the show opens, a fiercely talented ensemble of radiant women slowly enters singing a gentle round of "Hallelujah", ushering us into a rich world of reverence and ancient traditions. With their arrival, the stage comes to fiery life. Randal Blades' exquisite costume design provides bold and vivid strokes of color against the black and white canvas of the set design. The set comes alive as the muslin panels become integral to the action of the story we are about to see. Using a fluid choreography, the panels variously morph into wash cloths, laundry, wedding dresses, and walls.
Singing plays a vital role in the storytelling. Memorable instances when dialogue subtly shifts from the pedestrian concerns of daily life into lyrical observations that ultimately blossom into actual songs include "Flowers" and "Food".
Perhaps one of the most beautiful symbolic moments in the play occurs when the three daughters discover they have each received love letters from the same man, Shem. Their initial devastation is potentially compounded by the fact that their father has decided the three of them will marry Shem on the same day. (This is easy enough to go with given the context of an ancient setting.) Their father has given each daughter a gift: a ribbon, frankincense oil, and an empty book. The young women choose to take a situation that might further divide them and instead bring their individual gifts together to create a more perfect whole. They place each of their love letters into the empty book, bind it with the ribbon, and add to it the fragrance of the frankincense which reminds them of their common bridegroom. This act underscores an important lesson we might all benefit from summed up by the response to their common question of whether they can share a husband and a household: "It's not impossible. -- But, it's not easy."
We are prepared to witness the arrival of the wedding day and the daughters departing to meet their bridegroom; but first comes a moment in which a panel of muslin is stretched slab-like to form a dividing wall behind which the entire ensemble is backlit. They begin to speak about the modern day tensions of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. While informative and poignant, the comments have the feel of CNN soundbites, pulling us abruptly out of the narrative that has been playing out for the better part of an hour and twenty minutes. Although this moment serves to tie the ancient, almost dreamilke story to contemporary events, it would have better served as an epilogue and bookend to the play, especially since the commentary culminates with a jubilant reprise of "Hallelujah", the cast backlit in golden light and dancing in a round with the celebratory exhuberance of whirling dervishes.
Of special note: proceeds from each performance of "The Daughters of Abraham" benefit non-profit service organizations in Montgomery, reinforcing a central idea of the play as a whole: Can we share and individually make a difference in our world? -- "It's not impossible. -- But, it's not easy".
The story is at once timely and timeless, intimately exploring the relationships among a group of women from the three major religious traditions of Judaism, Islam, and Christianity. They are an ensemble of mothers, daughters, and sisters, all living in a shared household. As the women struggle to live with each other's differences while finding a common ground, it is this theme of sharing that runs like a golden thread through the narrative of three daughters preparing for their imminent nuptials.
The absence of any pre-show music allows focus on Mike Winkelman's minimalist scenic design. Created from three massive panels of muslin suspended against a black background, the effect is ethereal and makes a truly contemplative place. Chris Rich's warm and magical lighting design lends to the stage a dreamlike quality.
As the show opens, a fiercely talented ensemble of radiant women slowly enters singing a gentle round of "Hallelujah", ushering us into a rich world of reverence and ancient traditions. With their arrival, the stage comes to fiery life. Randal Blades' exquisite costume design provides bold and vivid strokes of color against the black and white canvas of the set design. The set comes alive as the muslin panels become integral to the action of the story we are about to see. Using a fluid choreography, the panels variously morph into wash cloths, laundry, wedding dresses, and walls.
Singing plays a vital role in the storytelling. Memorable instances when dialogue subtly shifts from the pedestrian concerns of daily life into lyrical observations that ultimately blossom into actual songs include "Flowers" and "Food".
Perhaps one of the most beautiful symbolic moments in the play occurs when the three daughters discover they have each received love letters from the same man, Shem. Their initial devastation is potentially compounded by the fact that their father has decided the three of them will marry Shem on the same day. (This is easy enough to go with given the context of an ancient setting.) Their father has given each daughter a gift: a ribbon, frankincense oil, and an empty book. The young women choose to take a situation that might further divide them and instead bring their individual gifts together to create a more perfect whole. They place each of their love letters into the empty book, bind it with the ribbon, and add to it the fragrance of the frankincense which reminds them of their common bridegroom. This act underscores an important lesson we might all benefit from summed up by the response to their common question of whether they can share a husband and a household: "It's not impossible. -- But, it's not easy."
We are prepared to witness the arrival of the wedding day and the daughters departing to meet their bridegroom; but first comes a moment in which a panel of muslin is stretched slab-like to form a dividing wall behind which the entire ensemble is backlit. They begin to speak about the modern day tensions of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. While informative and poignant, the comments have the feel of CNN soundbites, pulling us abruptly out of the narrative that has been playing out for the better part of an hour and twenty minutes. Although this moment serves to tie the ancient, almost dreamilke story to contemporary events, it would have better served as an epilogue and bookend to the play, especially since the commentary culminates with a jubilant reprise of "Hallelujah", the cast backlit in golden light and dancing in a round with the celebratory exhuberance of whirling dervishes.
Of special note: proceeds from each performance of "The Daughters of Abraham" benefit non-profit service organizations in Montgomery, reinforcing a central idea of the play as a whole: Can we share and individually make a difference in our world? -- "It's not impossible. -- But, it's not easy".
Friday, June 11, 2010
ASF: "Cowgirls"
Talent abounds in the Alabama Shakespeare Festival's production of "Cowgirls", directed by Karen Azenberg, who also directed & choreographed ASF's production of "West Side Story", and choreographed "A Christmas Carol: the Musical" and "Beehive".
Not only do the six actresses act and sing their roles, they are also called on to play an assortment of musical instruments ranging from cello to mandolin and from piano to washtub in the two hour performance; and they demonstrate a variety of musical styles from classical to country. Impressive.
The plot is simple: Jo Carlson, the daughter of a celebrity country-singer mother, owns "Hiram Hall", a bar/entertainment venue that is about to be foreclosed on by the local bank unless she can come up with a substantial amount of money almost overnight. Her mother has been away for many years, and her father squandered the money and refused to hire women to play at the Hall for now 39 years.
To raise the necessary funds, Jo has contracted what she believes is the "Cowgirl Trio"; in fact, the three women who show up are called the "Coghill Trio", a classical group of graduates of Coghill College who are also down on their luck, near the end of an extended B-circuit tour. Lots of comic potential here.
None of the trio has any experience with country music, but Jo's two waitresses are eager to perform and want to help her out. What ensues is fairly predictable: the classical trio determine to assist Jo by learning how to play country music, and their journey -- and everyone's journey of compassion and humor and understanding and coming to terms with their individual hang-ups -- sustains the plot.
Most of the play is an extended exposition, and it isn't till the final moments that they actually perform as the "Cowgirl Trio". But when they do, the event is a foot-stompin' delight -- partly because they have transformed into a really good country act, and partly because we have become invested in their lives.
When Act I opens on Peter Hicks's two-level interior of Hiram Hall in Rexford, Kansas, one can almost smell the years of smoke and spilled beer, the brown wood aged just enough and the numerous photographs of country stars and old advertisements reach out to include the audience, so the external world that is never seen through its windows hardly matters. This is the world for the present.
Rita [Pearl Rhein], Lee [Tamra Hayden] and Mary Lou [Jessica Tyler Wright] rehearse Beethoven's "Sonata Pathetique" and audition with Gilbert & Sullivan's "Three Little Maids", much to the consternation of Jo [Angela C. Howell] and her two employees, Mo [Chelsea Costa] and Mickey [Carrie Cimma], but soon convince Jo to give them a chance at learning to "sing country".
Under Jo's tutelage, either as a group or individually, each learns from the other, and even the waitresses are given their chance at performing. The "Trio" learns in fits and starts, stumbling over interpretations of "feelings" rather than accurate notes, till they are all seduced by the music and the lyrics.
But other lessons are learned as well: "Don't Look Down" offers advice that fear can be conquered if we don't succumb to it and if we trust in help offered by those who are close to us, and a mother's love that sustains us throughout our lives is clearly told in "Songs My Mama Sang".
Individual personalities emerge as we watch the relationships grow, and by the end, most audience members will have chosen a favorite and will cheer the spunk and achievements of this excellent ensemble.
Not only do the six actresses act and sing their roles, they are also called on to play an assortment of musical instruments ranging from cello to mandolin and from piano to washtub in the two hour performance; and they demonstrate a variety of musical styles from classical to country. Impressive.
The plot is simple: Jo Carlson, the daughter of a celebrity country-singer mother, owns "Hiram Hall", a bar/entertainment venue that is about to be foreclosed on by the local bank unless she can come up with a substantial amount of money almost overnight. Her mother has been away for many years, and her father squandered the money and refused to hire women to play at the Hall for now 39 years.
To raise the necessary funds, Jo has contracted what she believes is the "Cowgirl Trio"; in fact, the three women who show up are called the "Coghill Trio", a classical group of graduates of Coghill College who are also down on their luck, near the end of an extended B-circuit tour. Lots of comic potential here.
None of the trio has any experience with country music, but Jo's two waitresses are eager to perform and want to help her out. What ensues is fairly predictable: the classical trio determine to assist Jo by learning how to play country music, and their journey -- and everyone's journey of compassion and humor and understanding and coming to terms with their individual hang-ups -- sustains the plot.
Most of the play is an extended exposition, and it isn't till the final moments that they actually perform as the "Cowgirl Trio". But when they do, the event is a foot-stompin' delight -- partly because they have transformed into a really good country act, and partly because we have become invested in their lives.
When Act I opens on Peter Hicks's two-level interior of Hiram Hall in Rexford, Kansas, one can almost smell the years of smoke and spilled beer, the brown wood aged just enough and the numerous photographs of country stars and old advertisements reach out to include the audience, so the external world that is never seen through its windows hardly matters. This is the world for the present.
Rita [Pearl Rhein], Lee [Tamra Hayden] and Mary Lou [Jessica Tyler Wright] rehearse Beethoven's "Sonata Pathetique" and audition with Gilbert & Sullivan's "Three Little Maids", much to the consternation of Jo [Angela C. Howell] and her two employees, Mo [Chelsea Costa] and Mickey [Carrie Cimma], but soon convince Jo to give them a chance at learning to "sing country".
Under Jo's tutelage, either as a group or individually, each learns from the other, and even the waitresses are given their chance at performing. The "Trio" learns in fits and starts, stumbling over interpretations of "feelings" rather than accurate notes, till they are all seduced by the music and the lyrics.
But other lessons are learned as well: "Don't Look Down" offers advice that fear can be conquered if we don't succumb to it and if we trust in help offered by those who are close to us, and a mother's love that sustains us throughout our lives is clearly told in "Songs My Mama Sang".
Individual personalities emerge as we watch the relationships grow, and by the end, most audience members will have chosen a favorite and will cheer the spunk and achievements of this excellent ensemble.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Faulkner: "The Light in the Piazza"
The Faulkner University Dinner Theatre opened its 23rd season this week with Craig Lucas' and Adam Guettel's adaptation of Elizabeth Spencer's 1960 novella, "The Light in the Piazza", a musical that garnered numerous accolades on its 2005 Broadway run.
Set in Florence and Rome in the Summer of 1953, it tells the tale of a young couple in love -- Clara, an American tourist who falls in love with a young Florentine named Fabrizio -- a romance made innocently difficult at first by the language barrier and more seriously later by a well-kept secret from the past by Clara's mother Margaret.
Under Jason Clark South's capable direction, the ensemble of mostly veteran actors drawn from Faulkner's students & faculty and the local community are most impressive in their managing the challenges of the musical score that verges on the operatic -- a few songs and some dialogue are in Italian, and the score contains equivalencies of opera's arias, duets, a quintet, and ensemble pieces.
From the very start, however, Music Director Art Williams's excellent three-man orchestra's and the actors' body microphones were amped so high that vocal clarity was often impaired, the words disappearing into the resulting noise. Such unnecessary amplification has become so commonplace, even in professional theatres, that audiences can no longer anticipate hearing acoustical instruments or the natural singing voice -- a shame, really, and especially so in such a small venue as Faulkner's with its unquestionably gifted singer/actors.
Plot elements and characterizations are of increased importance in this take on an otherwise traditionally romantic boy-meets-girl scenario. The appeal of Italy's cultural history has drawn American tourists Margaret [Angela Dickson] and her daughter Clara [Beth Pirtle] to take it all in. Margaret, guidebook ever in hand, tries to deflect a budding love-at-first-sight romance between her daughter and a charming local necktie salesman, Fabrizio [Matt Roberson], characters who are destined to be together.
Margaret, who also serves as an occasional narrator, provides some suspense by divulging that Clara is "not what she seems"; she is slow and innocent as a result of a childhood accident, and Margaret's duty is to protect her. -- Ms. Dickson's performance is the standout in this production. She is engaged in every on-stage moment, and her journey becomes ours. Completely credible in her protective concern for her daughter's well-being, or when realizing that she needs to loosen her hold on Clara's life, and conscious always of maintaining propriety, the balance Ms. Dickson achieves between her private suffering and her public "face" is a lesson in acting, whether in scenic conversations, or long-distance phone calls to her increasingly estranged husband, or riveting our attention with her sincere and impassioned [and musically sophisticated] solo songs. The role is a challenging one, and Ms. Dickson hits every mark; a memorable performance.
As the young lovers, Ms. Pirtle and Mr. Roberson -- each also with gifted singing voices -- are engaging in their respective naivete. Their awkward first conversations, complicated by language barriers, are gently humorous and immediately put us on their side. Ms. Pirtle's ability to insert quirky mannersims into an inquisitive openness to experiencing everything, makes her genuinely attractive to Mr. Roberson's Fabrizio, while giving clear reason for her mother's concern.
The supporting principle and ensemble roles are given solid interpratations, and though the stage occasionally feels crowded, Mr. South's detailed and flexible street scene design creates an authentic Italianate feel.
Gina South's costumes evoke a 1950s style, with attention to such details as women tourists wearing dresses, hats, and gloves -- very different from today. So, what can possibly explain a disregard for the details of clerical robes for the priests and nuns, especially the fashion-conscious shoes of the nuns seen clearly below their above the ankle skirts?
"The Light in the Piazza" runs just over two hours, and the combined plot, characterizations, and strong singing make for a pleasant theatrical evening's entertainment.
Set in Florence and Rome in the Summer of 1953, it tells the tale of a young couple in love -- Clara, an American tourist who falls in love with a young Florentine named Fabrizio -- a romance made innocently difficult at first by the language barrier and more seriously later by a well-kept secret from the past by Clara's mother Margaret.
Under Jason Clark South's capable direction, the ensemble of mostly veteran actors drawn from Faulkner's students & faculty and the local community are most impressive in their managing the challenges of the musical score that verges on the operatic -- a few songs and some dialogue are in Italian, and the score contains equivalencies of opera's arias, duets, a quintet, and ensemble pieces.
From the very start, however, Music Director Art Williams's excellent three-man orchestra's and the actors' body microphones were amped so high that vocal clarity was often impaired, the words disappearing into the resulting noise. Such unnecessary amplification has become so commonplace, even in professional theatres, that audiences can no longer anticipate hearing acoustical instruments or the natural singing voice -- a shame, really, and especially so in such a small venue as Faulkner's with its unquestionably gifted singer/actors.
Plot elements and characterizations are of increased importance in this take on an otherwise traditionally romantic boy-meets-girl scenario. The appeal of Italy's cultural history has drawn American tourists Margaret [Angela Dickson] and her daughter Clara [Beth Pirtle] to take it all in. Margaret, guidebook ever in hand, tries to deflect a budding love-at-first-sight romance between her daughter and a charming local necktie salesman, Fabrizio [Matt Roberson], characters who are destined to be together.
Margaret, who also serves as an occasional narrator, provides some suspense by divulging that Clara is "not what she seems"; she is slow and innocent as a result of a childhood accident, and Margaret's duty is to protect her. -- Ms. Dickson's performance is the standout in this production. She is engaged in every on-stage moment, and her journey becomes ours. Completely credible in her protective concern for her daughter's well-being, or when realizing that she needs to loosen her hold on Clara's life, and conscious always of maintaining propriety, the balance Ms. Dickson achieves between her private suffering and her public "face" is a lesson in acting, whether in scenic conversations, or long-distance phone calls to her increasingly estranged husband, or riveting our attention with her sincere and impassioned [and musically sophisticated] solo songs. The role is a challenging one, and Ms. Dickson hits every mark; a memorable performance.
As the young lovers, Ms. Pirtle and Mr. Roberson -- each also with gifted singing voices -- are engaging in their respective naivete. Their awkward first conversations, complicated by language barriers, are gently humorous and immediately put us on their side. Ms. Pirtle's ability to insert quirky mannersims into an inquisitive openness to experiencing everything, makes her genuinely attractive to Mr. Roberson's Fabrizio, while giving clear reason for her mother's concern.
The supporting principle and ensemble roles are given solid interpratations, and though the stage occasionally feels crowded, Mr. South's detailed and flexible street scene design creates an authentic Italianate feel.
Gina South's costumes evoke a 1950s style, with attention to such details as women tourists wearing dresses, hats, and gloves -- very different from today. So, what can possibly explain a disregard for the details of clerical robes for the priests and nuns, especially the fashion-conscious shoes of the nuns seen clearly below their above the ankle skirts?
"The Light in the Piazza" runs just over two hours, and the combined plot, characterizations, and strong singing make for a pleasant theatrical evening's entertainment.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
ASF: "Southern Writers' Project"
Coming up next weekend -- May 14-16, 2010 -- an opportunity of being among the first to hear four new plays and participate in post-reading discussions at the Alabama Shakespeare Festival's Southern Writers' Project:
"Look Away" by Robert Ford
"The Flagmaker of Market Street" by Elyzabeth Gregory Wilder
"Blood Divided" by Jeffry L. Chastang
"In the Book Of" by John Walch
Other events are available:
--Backstage Tour of ASF
--Civil War Tour of Downtown Montgomery
--Music Jam
--Breakfast with the Playwrights
--Reception & Meals
Tickets are available -- call (334) 271-5334 or visit www.southernwritersproject.net:
weekend package, extreme weekend package [includes tickets to "All's Well That Ends Well", "Hamlet", and "Lettice & Lovage"], day packages, and single tickets to readings are available.
"Look Away" by Robert Ford
"The Flagmaker of Market Street" by Elyzabeth Gregory Wilder
"Blood Divided" by Jeffry L. Chastang
"In the Book Of" by John Walch
Other events are available:
--Backstage Tour of ASF
--Civil War Tour of Downtown Montgomery
--Music Jam
--Breakfast with the Playwrights
--Reception & Meals
Tickets are available -- call (334) 271-5334 or visit www.southernwritersproject.net:
weekend package, extreme weekend package [includes tickets to "All's Well That Ends Well", "Hamlet", and "Lettice & Lovage"], day packages, and single tickets to readings are available.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
ASF: "Lettice and Lovage"
When in 1984 Prince Charles referred to the plans for a new wing of the National Gallery in London as "a monstrous carbuncle on the face of a much-loved and elegant friend", those blueprints were scrapped and a controversy arose about whether modern architecture's rectangular, sharp-edged, and utilitarian forms had a place amidst the elegant spires that had dominated the cityscape for so long.
A few years later, but with Prince Charles's words still ringing, Peter Shaffer penned "Lettice and Lovage" (1987), wherein two very stubborn "ladies of a certain age" and from separate social and political camps join forces against the concrete, steel, and glass monstrosities that litter the landscape. Even the three act structure of his play suggests an admiration for old-fashioned storytelling that is deftly directed by John Going.
Currently in the Alabama Shakespeare Festival's repertory, Act I begins with a rather tedious and formulaic monologue by a tour guide at "the dullest house in England", a Tudor edifice aptly called Fustian House. Lettice Douffet [Diana VanFossen], a free-spirited Bohemian, embellishes the "official script" so well in successive renditions that the tourists are enthralled and the bowl containing their "tokens of admiration" overflows. Her mantra -- "enlarge, enlighten, enliven" -- makes her descriptions exciting and entertaining, though the veracity of her "details" ( or "gross departures from the truth") is challenged by one visitor and then by Lotte Schoen [Carole Monferdini], a stiffly officious representative of the "Preservation Trust" that manages historic properties.
Lettice has an encyclopedic knowledge of history and an understanding that "language frees one" from the ordinary -- what she calls the "mere". She bemoans what the country has come to -- that people have no spunk and settle for the "mere" in every aspect of their lives -- and her compulsion for storytelling, influenced by her mother's theatrical tutelage, "turns history into legend", captivates any listening audience, and is the key to her characterization. -- The actress playing the role must be an exceptional storyteller, and Ms. VanFossen, blessed with Shaffer's brilliant script, not only presents a larger-than-life portrait of Lettice with all the melodramatic justifications of her behavior, but rises to an inspired portrayal.
ASF intern Melanie Wilson plays Miss Schoen's secretary, Miss Farmer, as a bubbly yet somewhat dim-witted young woman totally out of place in her job, but eager to please. Her vivacious presence serves well to counterbalance Miss Schoen's propriety.
And, Lettice's on-stage audience is primarily Miss Schoen. In this role, Ms. Monferdini's severely cropped hair, plain grey suit, and sensible shoes are matched by a rigid insistence on following protocol; to watch her gradually falling under Lettice's irresistable spell is a delight. Her facial and posture changes in Act II are so subtle -- outrage changes to indignance and then to frustration and compassion to capitulation -- until, prompted by over-imbibing Lettice's "quaff" (an "adapted" ancient recipe of mead, vodka, sugar, and lovage [parsley]), she divulges a secret explosive past life with a revolutionary group called "E.N.D." (the "Eyesore Negation Detatchment"), and becomes an ally. The transformation is complete.
There is more to come, however, in Act III. The women have been re-enacting some major violent historical events in Lettice's flat, the deaths of Mary Queen of Scots and Charles I among them, with theatrical costumes and props and Lettice's enlarged vocabulary and passionate performances. An accident threatens a lawsuit for attempted murder. As Lettice's defense lawyer, Mr. Bardolph, Anthony Cochrane is also caught in her spell, and his transformation replicates Miss Schoen's in a wonderfully comic turn that is infectious.
Shaffer re-wrote the ending to his play that had the central characters embarking on a plot to blow up the offending buildings to a less incendiary though still malicious plan -- a prudent choice in light of world terrorism, and perhaps a wise choice in that the issue of modern architecture's intrusion against the grand designs of the past has little relevance here today.
But a happy ending is de rigueur: the lawsuit is dropped and as we have been transported by their performances, we join these two exceptional women in their triumph.
A few years later, but with Prince Charles's words still ringing, Peter Shaffer penned "Lettice and Lovage" (1987), wherein two very stubborn "ladies of a certain age" and from separate social and political camps join forces against the concrete, steel, and glass monstrosities that litter the landscape. Even the three act structure of his play suggests an admiration for old-fashioned storytelling that is deftly directed by John Going.
Currently in the Alabama Shakespeare Festival's repertory, Act I begins with a rather tedious and formulaic monologue by a tour guide at "the dullest house in England", a Tudor edifice aptly called Fustian House. Lettice Douffet [Diana VanFossen], a free-spirited Bohemian, embellishes the "official script" so well in successive renditions that the tourists are enthralled and the bowl containing their "tokens of admiration" overflows. Her mantra -- "enlarge, enlighten, enliven" -- makes her descriptions exciting and entertaining, though the veracity of her "details" ( or "gross departures from the truth") is challenged by one visitor and then by Lotte Schoen [Carole Monferdini], a stiffly officious representative of the "Preservation Trust" that manages historic properties.
Lettice has an encyclopedic knowledge of history and an understanding that "language frees one" from the ordinary -- what she calls the "mere". She bemoans what the country has come to -- that people have no spunk and settle for the "mere" in every aspect of their lives -- and her compulsion for storytelling, influenced by her mother's theatrical tutelage, "turns history into legend", captivates any listening audience, and is the key to her characterization. -- The actress playing the role must be an exceptional storyteller, and Ms. VanFossen, blessed with Shaffer's brilliant script, not only presents a larger-than-life portrait of Lettice with all the melodramatic justifications of her behavior, but rises to an inspired portrayal.
ASF intern Melanie Wilson plays Miss Schoen's secretary, Miss Farmer, as a bubbly yet somewhat dim-witted young woman totally out of place in her job, but eager to please. Her vivacious presence serves well to counterbalance Miss Schoen's propriety.
And, Lettice's on-stage audience is primarily Miss Schoen. In this role, Ms. Monferdini's severely cropped hair, plain grey suit, and sensible shoes are matched by a rigid insistence on following protocol; to watch her gradually falling under Lettice's irresistable spell is a delight. Her facial and posture changes in Act II are so subtle -- outrage changes to indignance and then to frustration and compassion to capitulation -- until, prompted by over-imbibing Lettice's "quaff" (an "adapted" ancient recipe of mead, vodka, sugar, and lovage [parsley]), she divulges a secret explosive past life with a revolutionary group called "E.N.D." (the "Eyesore Negation Detatchment"), and becomes an ally. The transformation is complete.
There is more to come, however, in Act III. The women have been re-enacting some major violent historical events in Lettice's flat, the deaths of Mary Queen of Scots and Charles I among them, with theatrical costumes and props and Lettice's enlarged vocabulary and passionate performances. An accident threatens a lawsuit for attempted murder. As Lettice's defense lawyer, Mr. Bardolph, Anthony Cochrane is also caught in her spell, and his transformation replicates Miss Schoen's in a wonderfully comic turn that is infectious.
Shaffer re-wrote the ending to his play that had the central characters embarking on a plot to blow up the offending buildings to a less incendiary though still malicious plan -- a prudent choice in light of world terrorism, and perhaps a wise choice in that the issue of modern architecture's intrusion against the grand designs of the past has little relevance here today.
But a happy ending is de rigueur: the lawsuit is dropped and as we have been transported by their performances, we join these two exceptional women in their triumph.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Millbrook: "Saving Grace"
With a new sound system in place, the Millbrook Community Players are presenting Jack Sharkey's comedy, "Saving Grace", directed by Fred Neighbors, and with a small ensemble cast of veteran actors and a newcomer to the local theatre scene. The small, but appreciative, audience often punctuated the performance with loud laughs stemming from the clever script and the timing of the actors.
The comedy of this script stems from its witty dialogue and characterizations, as well as from conventional mistaken identities brought about by virtually everyone pretending to be what they are not.
Grace Larkin [Ashley Allman] invites her boss Walter Chepple [John Collier] back to her apartment for a late night drink...and she is a nervous wreck; it is her first attempt at romance, and she spouts many cliche-ridden quotations from B-films to which she is addicted. -- He, on the other hand, appears to be an experienced Lothario and invites her to accompany him to a business convention in Hawaii, complete with a special sexy outfit he bought her and which she models for him as a birthday present.
Awkward moments for each of them are interrupted by the arrival of a telephone repairman named Alex [Paul Travitsky] and Grace's sister Harriet [Rae Ann Collier] who is being pursued by her suitor Gregor [Dave Kelsen] a Russian evangelical preacher.
The script contrives to have characters leave the stage at critical moments, only to return to overhear partial conversations that cause them to draw the wrong conclusions, or to find other characters in an assortment of compromising positions...all standard conventions of farcical comedies.
There is a good deal of success in the performances. Most of the clever dialogue is presented by this ensemble with a naturalistic understanding -- a lot of double-entendre -- and spot-on timing, and in Ms. Allman's case, some wonderful facial mugging that clearly indicate her predicaments.
But, plays of this type also require a variety of pace -- some fast and furious, some slowed down in exhaustion -- to highlight the emotional and physical intensity of the script. Some attention to this would benefit the two-hour production.
And there appears to have been some reticence in both physical intimacy and in costuming. Every kiss is either a perfunctory peck or a chaste one when it should be smouldering and lingering, and everyone remains dressed in very demure clothing, especially when wearing underwear and caught in the aforesaid compromising positions. Though a red Union suit may draw a laugh in and of itself, it hardly compromises the characters in question of the assumed dalliance or being caught in the act.
Nonetheless, this production of Saving Grace is a funny entertainment that provides audiences with an old-fashioned laugh-out-loud night at the theatre.
The comedy of this script stems from its witty dialogue and characterizations, as well as from conventional mistaken identities brought about by virtually everyone pretending to be what they are not.
Grace Larkin [Ashley Allman] invites her boss Walter Chepple [John Collier] back to her apartment for a late night drink...and she is a nervous wreck; it is her first attempt at romance, and she spouts many cliche-ridden quotations from B-films to which she is addicted. -- He, on the other hand, appears to be an experienced Lothario and invites her to accompany him to a business convention in Hawaii, complete with a special sexy outfit he bought her and which she models for him as a birthday present.
Awkward moments for each of them are interrupted by the arrival of a telephone repairman named Alex [Paul Travitsky] and Grace's sister Harriet [Rae Ann Collier] who is being pursued by her suitor Gregor [Dave Kelsen] a Russian evangelical preacher.
The script contrives to have characters leave the stage at critical moments, only to return to overhear partial conversations that cause them to draw the wrong conclusions, or to find other characters in an assortment of compromising positions...all standard conventions of farcical comedies.
There is a good deal of success in the performances. Most of the clever dialogue is presented by this ensemble with a naturalistic understanding -- a lot of double-entendre -- and spot-on timing, and in Ms. Allman's case, some wonderful facial mugging that clearly indicate her predicaments.
But, plays of this type also require a variety of pace -- some fast and furious, some slowed down in exhaustion -- to highlight the emotional and physical intensity of the script. Some attention to this would benefit the two-hour production.
And there appears to have been some reticence in both physical intimacy and in costuming. Every kiss is either a perfunctory peck or a chaste one when it should be smouldering and lingering, and everyone remains dressed in very demure clothing, especially when wearing underwear and caught in the aforesaid compromising positions. Though a red Union suit may draw a laugh in and of itself, it hardly compromises the characters in question of the assumed dalliance or being caught in the act.
Nonetheless, this production of Saving Grace is a funny entertainment that provides audiences with an old-fashioned laugh-out-loud night at the theatre.
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