As a must-see complement to The Best Christmas Pageant Ever that is playing on the Festival Stage, the Alabama Shakespeare Festival's Octagon Theatre production of All is Calm: The Christmas Truce of 1914 will leave you breathless after its one-hour running time.
Peter Rothstein's profoundly moving play is sung a capella by a gifted ensemble of ten actors who each play several roles: soldiers of various ranks in the World War I armies of the Allies led by Britain and the Central Powers led by Germany. They introduce themselves via recitations from actual letters and journals, and we come to know them as representatives of the masses of young men who volunteered or were conscripted. And we also hear laments and warnings from the war poets Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen, whose words remind us of the human cost of war.
It is based on historic events on Christmas Eve 1914 when these opposing armies temporarily put down their arms and joined one another in the "no man's land" between the trenches to share gifts, stories, a game of football, and a lot of songs that expressed the universal language shared by all of humanity.
What was later to be called "the war to end all wars" is set at the Western Front in the early stages of the war when the men were singing "God Save the King" full of robust patriotic vigor, believing the war would be over before Christmas and they would all return home as heroes. Soon, the reality of war sets in with the death of a close pal, and they sing a plaintive "I Want to Go Home". -- Audiences are drawn into their plight.
The trenches along the Front were only about 80 yards apart in places, and history notes that they could hear their enemies cough when fighting stopped at night, and called each other "Fritz" or "Tommy" in a kind of good-natured taunting.
But the fighting was real, and the men's disillusionment was palpable. And it took common soldiers from both sides to accomplish what even the Pope could not: a temporary truce that started with the Germans placing a Christmas tree atop their trenches and singing "O Tannenbaum"; a lone German soldier stepped into the "no man's land" singing "Stille Nacht", inspiring the British to tentatively join in with "Silent Night", their differences forgotten for a short while as they continued several other Christmas carols.
A commanding officer brings the unsanctioned truce to end and orders the men back to their respective trenches, though they are allowed to bury their dead comrades. -- The war continued for four years, and the carnage and loss of life enormous. Later battles at Verdun and the Somme are indelibly etched in our collective memory as testament to the horrors of "The Great War" and the cost to human dignity.
As a lament to this loss of life and dignity, this production directed by Melissa Rain Anderson stuns her audiences with its simple messages and warnings. The richness of four-part men's harmonies, and the quality of individual voices ["O Holy Night", for example], stress the senselessness of war, a potent theme of All is Calm that leaves a lasting memory.
Thursday, December 19, 2019
Tuesday, December 10, 2019
ASF: "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever"
Barbara Robinson's novel The Best Christmas Pageant Ever has been a holiday staple since it first hit bookstores in 1971, and its longevity was ensured by her 1988 stage version, played regularly across the country each year. -- Now, thanks to the Alabama Shakespeare Festival Artistic Director Rick Dildine's intention to sustain links with the local community, the current cast of actors on the Festival Stage is comprised mostly of River Region students from public, private, and home-schools; the remainder of the roles go to local adults and this year's ASF Interns.
And what a troupe they are! Under ASF Associate Director Greta Lambert's expert direction, this is as lively, fast-paced, and energetic a show as one could get, and one whose family-friendly messages mixed with some hilarious antics signal the Christmas Season with the ensemble's good-natured performances.
Young Beth [Gerrisyn Shipman] narrates the story of the time when her Mom [Sarah Adkins] was conscripted to direct the local church's annual Christmas Pageant after Mrs. Armstrong [John Cencio Burgos] became wheelchair-bound after an accident. Mrs. Armstrong's version was predictably the same year after year, one in which all the backstage jobs and on-stage roles were predetermined. -- But not so this year: Beth's brother Charlie [Lannon Bowman], in an attempt to avoid bullying from the notorious Herdman tribe of troublemakers, tells them that Sunday School offers free treats...and they show up to commandeer all the pivotal roles in the pageant, much to everyone's dismay.
Not to be deterred by the Herdman's cussing, drinking, smoking, and shoplifting exploits, Mom is determined to make this year's effort "the best Christmas pageant ever"...and does she have her job cut out for her! In her ASF debut, local actress/director Ms. Adkins, doing more than just herding cats, summons everything at her disposal to give the Herdmans a chance by using their ignorance as teaching moments. And we are witness to their honest responses to the Bible story they had never heard, and watch as they learn the true meaning of Christmas.
Running just under an hour, the young actors in this ensemble demonstrate a level of sophisticated performance disciplines that many mature thespians struggle with: their vocal strength, character focus, and dexterity of movement are laudable. -- Ms. Shipman's straightforwardly practical demeanor and Mr, Bowman's frantic need to escape bullying at all costs show how dissimilar siblings can be. Faith Gatson's powerful solo singing also centers the assorted choral numbers.
But it is the Herdman siblings whose journey from being "the worst kids in the history of the world" to the most compassionate messengers of the Christmas Season that centers the play. -- J'Kai Foster, Jason Grinstead, and William Miller take on the roles of the Wise Men, having forced themselves into the production, but bring a canned ham as a gift to the Christ child: a more practical present than gold/frankincense/myrrh to poor refugees living in a stable, and we find that the ham was from their own welfare Christmas basket. -- Timothy Brannon and Ann Welch Hilyer as Joseph and Mary shift from arrogance to protective parents in such a truthful manner that garnered gasps of appreciation from the audience. And spunky Eva Kate Mason relishes her role as the Angel to bring the good news to the shepherds [and all of us] with uninhibited naivete and absolute commitment to getting the message across to one and all.
Yes, the Herdman kids have learned a lot, and the rest of the company of characters have also found connections to people they formerly judged, that the goodness in all of us may just need a bit of coaxing to emerge, and that the gifts of acceptance and understanding are priceless.
And what a troupe they are! Under ASF Associate Director Greta Lambert's expert direction, this is as lively, fast-paced, and energetic a show as one could get, and one whose family-friendly messages mixed with some hilarious antics signal the Christmas Season with the ensemble's good-natured performances.
Young Beth [Gerrisyn Shipman] narrates the story of the time when her Mom [Sarah Adkins] was conscripted to direct the local church's annual Christmas Pageant after Mrs. Armstrong [John Cencio Burgos] became wheelchair-bound after an accident. Mrs. Armstrong's version was predictably the same year after year, one in which all the backstage jobs and on-stage roles were predetermined. -- But not so this year: Beth's brother Charlie [Lannon Bowman], in an attempt to avoid bullying from the notorious Herdman tribe of troublemakers, tells them that Sunday School offers free treats...and they show up to commandeer all the pivotal roles in the pageant, much to everyone's dismay.
Not to be deterred by the Herdman's cussing, drinking, smoking, and shoplifting exploits, Mom is determined to make this year's effort "the best Christmas pageant ever"...and does she have her job cut out for her! In her ASF debut, local actress/director Ms. Adkins, doing more than just herding cats, summons everything at her disposal to give the Herdmans a chance by using their ignorance as teaching moments. And we are witness to their honest responses to the Bible story they had never heard, and watch as they learn the true meaning of Christmas.
Running just under an hour, the young actors in this ensemble demonstrate a level of sophisticated performance disciplines that many mature thespians struggle with: their vocal strength, character focus, and dexterity of movement are laudable. -- Ms. Shipman's straightforwardly practical demeanor and Mr, Bowman's frantic need to escape bullying at all costs show how dissimilar siblings can be. Faith Gatson's powerful solo singing also centers the assorted choral numbers.
But it is the Herdman siblings whose journey from being "the worst kids in the history of the world" to the most compassionate messengers of the Christmas Season that centers the play. -- J'Kai Foster, Jason Grinstead, and William Miller take on the roles of the Wise Men, having forced themselves into the production, but bring a canned ham as a gift to the Christ child: a more practical present than gold/frankincense/myrrh to poor refugees living in a stable, and we find that the ham was from their own welfare Christmas basket. -- Timothy Brannon and Ann Welch Hilyer as Joseph and Mary shift from arrogance to protective parents in such a truthful manner that garnered gasps of appreciation from the audience. And spunky Eva Kate Mason relishes her role as the Angel to bring the good news to the shepherds [and all of us] with uninhibited naivete and absolute commitment to getting the message across to one and all.
Yes, the Herdman kids have learned a lot, and the rest of the company of characters have also found connections to people they formerly judged, that the goodness in all of us may just need a bit of coaxing to emerge, and that the gifts of acceptance and understanding are priceless.
Saturday, December 7, 2019
Cloverdale Playhouse: "Dancing at Lughnasa"
Dancing at Lughnasa (1990), Irish playwright Brian Friel's semi-autobiographical award-winning play. quietly and brilliantly signals the end of the 2019 "Ensemble Season" at the Cloverdale Playhouse.
At its conclusion after two-and-a-half-hours, the opening night's full house erupted into applause after a moment that renowned English director Peter Brook describes as "the curious sort of silence you get from a large number of people being quiet": testimony that director Sarah Walker Thornton and her ensemble of actors and designers succeeded in their interpretation of a remarkable play.
J. Scott Grinstead's evocative minimalist scenic design -- arena staging where the audience surrounds the playing area -- enhances the intimacy of this "memory play", whose narrator Michael Evans [Daniel Ryan Teehan] looks back to 1936 when he was seven years old, and the influences of his mother and her four sisters [all five are unmarried] as they navigate poverty, an impending war, industrialization, family and patriarchal conflicts, and the contrasting of pagan rituals with traditional Catholic ones.
This is not a romanticized Irish "shamrock and leprechauns" play by any means; rather, it conjures the spirit of the Irish people's ability to come together in times of crisis, relying on the bonds of family love to get them through even the worst of times.
Michael's reminiscences transport us to the fictitious town of Ballybeg, where the five Mundy sisters eke out a living and fight to keep body and soul together. -- Kate [Maureen Costello] is the eldest, the breadwinner, and the prim defender of traditional Catholicism; Maggie [Angela Dickson] is the earthy jokester whose riddles entertain herself more than others; Agnes [Katie Schmidt] and mentally slow Rose [Emily Burke] knit gloves to bring in a bit of extra money; and Michael's mother Christina [Katie Wu], the youngest of the housekeepers awaits the annual visit of Michael's father Gerry Evans [Ari Hagler], a charming Welsh ne'er do well whose promises are never kept. -- And their brother Father Jack [Adam Shephard] is back with them after many years as a missionary priest in Africa, suffering from malaria and memory loss as well as the scandal of having "gone native" in Africa and bringing disrepute to the family.
It is also set during the feast of Lughnasa, signaling the start of the harvest with music and dancing to appease the Celtic god Lugh. -- An unreliable radio nicknamed "Marconi" periodically provides music that encourages singing and of course dancing: ballroom, folk, and one remarkably spirited improvisation when all five sisters drop their inhibitions in celebration of their humanity.
On the surface, not much happens in the play; yet, beneath the paucity of action, Michael's remembrances peel back the many layers of each character's personalities, their work and their beliefs, their repressions and passions, their stalwart support of one another, and the love they cherish despite their differences. -- It is to the strong ensemble's credit that each character is so fully developed through their interpretations and interactions that we invest in their lives and allow the final moment to sink in before the applause.
Michael tells us the unfortunate fate of each of the characters, yet we are left with a final tableau before that happens, still during the feast of Lughnasa: their final dance, embracing one another and swaying gently to the music that reinforces what matters most to them -- family.
At its conclusion after two-and-a-half-hours, the opening night's full house erupted into applause after a moment that renowned English director Peter Brook describes as "the curious sort of silence you get from a large number of people being quiet": testimony that director Sarah Walker Thornton and her ensemble of actors and designers succeeded in their interpretation of a remarkable play.
J. Scott Grinstead's evocative minimalist scenic design -- arena staging where the audience surrounds the playing area -- enhances the intimacy of this "memory play", whose narrator Michael Evans [Daniel Ryan Teehan] looks back to 1936 when he was seven years old, and the influences of his mother and her four sisters [all five are unmarried] as they navigate poverty, an impending war, industrialization, family and patriarchal conflicts, and the contrasting of pagan rituals with traditional Catholic ones.
This is not a romanticized Irish "shamrock and leprechauns" play by any means; rather, it conjures the spirit of the Irish people's ability to come together in times of crisis, relying on the bonds of family love to get them through even the worst of times.
Michael's reminiscences transport us to the fictitious town of Ballybeg, where the five Mundy sisters eke out a living and fight to keep body and soul together. -- Kate [Maureen Costello] is the eldest, the breadwinner, and the prim defender of traditional Catholicism; Maggie [Angela Dickson] is the earthy jokester whose riddles entertain herself more than others; Agnes [Katie Schmidt] and mentally slow Rose [Emily Burke] knit gloves to bring in a bit of extra money; and Michael's mother Christina [Katie Wu], the youngest of the housekeepers awaits the annual visit of Michael's father Gerry Evans [Ari Hagler], a charming Welsh ne'er do well whose promises are never kept. -- And their brother Father Jack [Adam Shephard] is back with them after many years as a missionary priest in Africa, suffering from malaria and memory loss as well as the scandal of having "gone native" in Africa and bringing disrepute to the family.
It is also set during the feast of Lughnasa, signaling the start of the harvest with music and dancing to appease the Celtic god Lugh. -- An unreliable radio nicknamed "Marconi" periodically provides music that encourages singing and of course dancing: ballroom, folk, and one remarkably spirited improvisation when all five sisters drop their inhibitions in celebration of their humanity.
On the surface, not much happens in the play; yet, beneath the paucity of action, Michael's remembrances peel back the many layers of each character's personalities, their work and their beliefs, their repressions and passions, their stalwart support of one another, and the love they cherish despite their differences. -- It is to the strong ensemble's credit that each character is so fully developed through their interpretations and interactions that we invest in their lives and allow the final moment to sink in before the applause.
Michael tells us the unfortunate fate of each of the characters, yet we are left with a final tableau before that happens, still during the feast of Lughnasa: their final dance, embracing one another and swaying gently to the music that reinforces what matters most to them -- family.
Wednesday, November 13, 2019
Theatre AUM: "The Seagull"
Theatre AUM has an established history of programming a wide variety of productions from World Theatre, so it is not surprising that director Mike Winkelman is staging Christopher Hampton's robust 2008 translation of Anton Chekhov's 1895 The Seagull, one of the seminal plays of modern theatre.
Set in a rural Russian country house in the late 19th Century, The Seagull is no nostalgic reminiscence of a romantic past; in fact -- as with most great literature -- its universal human subject matter showing family relationships, complications of unrequited love, career challenges, financial obligations, individuals who are so self-absorbed that they ignore the needs of others, suicide, idolizing celebrities, attempts at finding new methods of artistic expression, and avoidance of facing our demons, are as resonant today as Chekhov shows in his play.
With an ensemble of fifteen veteran and unseasoned actors, and played on an effectively minimalist set designed by Karen Licari, Mr. Winkelman addresses the many topics listed above, doing so through clear delineation of plot complications and characterizations. And so much of the action depends on things that are not directly stated, that the actors must depend on the "subtext" underlying the dialogue that determines their behavior and their fraught relationships.
The plot is complicated: a wealthy yet stingy famous actress Irina [Kate Saylor] returns to her brother's estate with her lover Trigorin [Tony George], a popular writer; the aging brother Sorin [David Wilson] suffers from ill health, and is looked after by Dr. Dorn [Jay Russell]. Irina's son Konstantin [Josh Williams] has written an avant-garde symbolist play for her to be performed by Nina [Savannah Brown], a young neighbor he adores and who idolizes Irina.
The performance turns disastrous when Irina laughs at its seeming pretentiousness; Konstantin is mortified, but Nina is infatuated with Trigorin and idol-worships Irina, confessing her desire to be an actress.
Additionally, Masha [Faith Roberts], dressed all in black and "mourning for her life", pines for Konstantin's affection despite romantic overtures from the poor teacher Medvedenko [Jared Jones]; Masha's mother Polina [Emily Aveldanez] is in love with Dr. Dorn, and her father Shamrayev [Sam Penn] tries to ignore his wife's behavior. -- No spoilers as to how it all turns out.
So, lots to unravel in the play's four acts [presented here with one intermission]; and keeping track of who's who is further encumbered by the facts that several characters' names are not spoken for a long time and that the convention that Russians use a variety of names for each individual [patronymics, diminutives/nicknames, surnames, first names that reveal formal or familiar relationships that Russians would instantly recognize -- thank goodness Mr. Winkelman has minimalized their uses in his production].
Audiences must still pay special attention, as the action and overlapping stories come at them rapid-fire; Mr. Winkelman's fine acting company are up the mark through their thorough commitment to as naturalistic behavior and speech they can muster in dialogue that regularly threatens melodrama. It affords us access to them; they are so much like us.
And it is an excellent ensemble performance. One might identify readily with most any character, but our attention shifts from one to the next with such regularity that we find ourselves shifting allegiance as well...laughing or crying by turns, wanting to shake them out of their self-indulgent behavior or come to their rescue.
The Seagull is another Theatre AUM example of a piece of classic theatre that is all too infrequent on local stages.
Set in a rural Russian country house in the late 19th Century, The Seagull is no nostalgic reminiscence of a romantic past; in fact -- as with most great literature -- its universal human subject matter showing family relationships, complications of unrequited love, career challenges, financial obligations, individuals who are so self-absorbed that they ignore the needs of others, suicide, idolizing celebrities, attempts at finding new methods of artistic expression, and avoidance of facing our demons, are as resonant today as Chekhov shows in his play.
With an ensemble of fifteen veteran and unseasoned actors, and played on an effectively minimalist set designed by Karen Licari, Mr. Winkelman addresses the many topics listed above, doing so through clear delineation of plot complications and characterizations. And so much of the action depends on things that are not directly stated, that the actors must depend on the "subtext" underlying the dialogue that determines their behavior and their fraught relationships.
The plot is complicated: a wealthy yet stingy famous actress Irina [Kate Saylor] returns to her brother's estate with her lover Trigorin [Tony George], a popular writer; the aging brother Sorin [David Wilson] suffers from ill health, and is looked after by Dr. Dorn [Jay Russell]. Irina's son Konstantin [Josh Williams] has written an avant-garde symbolist play for her to be performed by Nina [Savannah Brown], a young neighbor he adores and who idolizes Irina.
The performance turns disastrous when Irina laughs at its seeming pretentiousness; Konstantin is mortified, but Nina is infatuated with Trigorin and idol-worships Irina, confessing her desire to be an actress.
Additionally, Masha [Faith Roberts], dressed all in black and "mourning for her life", pines for Konstantin's affection despite romantic overtures from the poor teacher Medvedenko [Jared Jones]; Masha's mother Polina [Emily Aveldanez] is in love with Dr. Dorn, and her father Shamrayev [Sam Penn] tries to ignore his wife's behavior. -- No spoilers as to how it all turns out.
So, lots to unravel in the play's four acts [presented here with one intermission]; and keeping track of who's who is further encumbered by the facts that several characters' names are not spoken for a long time and that the convention that Russians use a variety of names for each individual [patronymics, diminutives/nicknames, surnames, first names that reveal formal or familiar relationships that Russians would instantly recognize -- thank goodness Mr. Winkelman has minimalized their uses in his production].
Audiences must still pay special attention, as the action and overlapping stories come at them rapid-fire; Mr. Winkelman's fine acting company are up the mark through their thorough commitment to as naturalistic behavior and speech they can muster in dialogue that regularly threatens melodrama. It affords us access to them; they are so much like us.
And it is an excellent ensemble performance. One might identify readily with most any character, but our attention shifts from one to the next with such regularity that we find ourselves shifting allegiance as well...laughing or crying by turns, wanting to shake them out of their self-indulgent behavior or come to their rescue.
The Seagull is another Theatre AUM example of a piece of classic theatre that is all too infrequent on local stages.
Thursday, October 31, 2019
Helluva at The Sanctuary: "St. Nicholas"
Award-winning Irish playwright Conor McPherson is a masterful storyteller who started out writing monologue plays and later incorporated monologue-stories into his best known works like The Weir [1999] and The Seafarer [2006]. His folk tales and ghost stories always take unexpected turns and rely on both the audience's acceptance of their bizarre plots and of the actor's storytelling skills.
So, with an opportune programming of McPherson's St. Nicholas [1997] over the Halloween-All Saints-All Souls weekend staged at The Sanctuary by the "Helluva Theatre Company", his story of and by a disillusioned theatre critic's dark journey with vampires is a timely choice.
Directed by Alex Dmitriev, and featuring John Martello as the cynical unnamed critic, the two-act monologue -- his version of the truth about his profession, his marriage, his jealousies, his fears, and his willingness to journey with a coven of vampires -- lures the audience bit by bit until they are as trapped as he is in seeking a resolution.
He tells us at the beginning that when he was a boy he was afraid of the dark, and then invites us into his dark journey, his dissatisfaction with his job [even though he relishes the power it gives him over the actors he reviews], his battles with alcohol, his jealousy of playwrights whose words and characters he can't summon in his own attempts at writing plays, his fractured marriage and family, his infatuation with an actress performing in Oscar Wilde's Salome that causes him to stalk her from Dublin to London where he meets William [the leader of the vampires who conscripts him as a kind of pimp for the coven], and the cynicism that infects his every thought.
With a couple of tangential stories that keep audiences wondering where this might lead, it is nonetheless imperative that we understand the dark nature of his tale, the darkness he has feared since childhood, and the darkness that infects him still.
Though drinking is at the center of the character's life, and there are so many references to its effects throughout the play, it is curious that Mr. Martello never takes a drink in his performance. The staging is minimal, with no props and only a single chair and a small rug at center stage, and a few lighting modifications for atmospheric reference; so we rely exclusively on Mr. Martello's abilities as an interpreter of McPherson's words to engage with us for almost two hours; an intimacy he achieves with apparent comfort and a sometimes indiscernible Irish dialect.
In short, we are captivated by McPherson's chilling supernatural script and Martello's shaping of it into a seductive evening's entertainment.
So, with an opportune programming of McPherson's St. Nicholas [1997] over the Halloween-All Saints-All Souls weekend staged at The Sanctuary by the "Helluva Theatre Company", his story of and by a disillusioned theatre critic's dark journey with vampires is a timely choice.
Directed by Alex Dmitriev, and featuring John Martello as the cynical unnamed critic, the two-act monologue -- his version of the truth about his profession, his marriage, his jealousies, his fears, and his willingness to journey with a coven of vampires -- lures the audience bit by bit until they are as trapped as he is in seeking a resolution.
He tells us at the beginning that when he was a boy he was afraid of the dark, and then invites us into his dark journey, his dissatisfaction with his job [even though he relishes the power it gives him over the actors he reviews], his battles with alcohol, his jealousy of playwrights whose words and characters he can't summon in his own attempts at writing plays, his fractured marriage and family, his infatuation with an actress performing in Oscar Wilde's Salome that causes him to stalk her from Dublin to London where he meets William [the leader of the vampires who conscripts him as a kind of pimp for the coven], and the cynicism that infects his every thought.
With a couple of tangential stories that keep audiences wondering where this might lead, it is nonetheless imperative that we understand the dark nature of his tale, the darkness he has feared since childhood, and the darkness that infects him still.
Though drinking is at the center of the character's life, and there are so many references to its effects throughout the play, it is curious that Mr. Martello never takes a drink in his performance. The staging is minimal, with no props and only a single chair and a small rug at center stage, and a few lighting modifications for atmospheric reference; so we rely exclusively on Mr. Martello's abilities as an interpreter of McPherson's words to engage with us for almost two hours; an intimacy he achieves with apparent comfort and a sometimes indiscernible Irish dialect.
In short, we are captivated by McPherson's chilling supernatural script and Martello's shaping of it into a seductive evening's entertainment.
Sunday, October 20, 2019
ASF: "Pipeline"
Friday night's nearly sold-out audience at the Alabama Shakespeare Festival's Octagon Theatre cheered at the conclusion of Dominique Morisseau's powerful Pipeline, a robust and muscular 90-minute exploration of the all too prophetic "school to prison pipeline" facing a disproportionate number of young African-American men.
Produced in partnership with the Equal Justice Initiative, it continues the important conversation about race that EJI's director Bryan Stevenson spurred with the opening a year and a half ago of Montgomery's "Legacy Museum" and "National Memorial for Peace and Justice".
Ms. Morisseau -- a 2018 MacArthur Foundation "Genius Grant" Fellow -- has written a taut and sometimes gut-wrenching drama about public school teacher Nya [Eunice Woods] attempting to do what she thinks is best for her son Omari [Jay Wade] by sending him to a private school where she hopes the environment will shelter him from the violent high school where she teaches.
Good impulses that go horribly wrong when an incident at the new school brought on by a teacher provokes Omari during a class discussion of novelist Richard Wright's Native Son; as the teacher insists that Omari be the spokesman for all Blacks -- and using such trigger words as "tamed", "animal", and "unleashed" -- the young man pushed the teacher out of righteous rage, thereby initiating an investigation and potential jail time for assault.
Early on in the production, Ms. Morisseau introduces poet Gwendolyn Brooks' "We Real Cool", a fatalist jazz influenced rif on the macho chest-beating of African-American youth -- outsiders who are resigned to a dead-end existence beyond their control, but who nonetheless continue their posturing. She punctuates the action with repeated fragments of the poem, so we are never far from the dominant theme of her play. And she seems to be inviting her audiences to engage in the conversation that might lead to an understanding of Omari's plight and end the dehumanizing of Black youth. -- Yes, this is a conversation we should be having.
Director Ron OJ Parson keeps the focus clearly on Nya and Omari as each one tries to navigate their ways through to a satisfactory conclusion -- Nya by not giving in to panic in the search for her son and offer help to him and even asking him to teach her: to help her understand, and Omari by temporarily running away to settle himself before admitting responsibility for his actions. -- Ms. Woods and Mr. Wade develop the complexities of their roles so audiences invest in both their conditions. There may be hope for reconciliation.
They are abetted along the way by Omari's girlfriend Jasmine [Toree Alexandre], Nya's outspoken veteran colleague Laurie [Barbara Figgins], dutiful school security guard Dun [Brian Nelson], and Nya's patriarchal ex-husband Xavier [Ethan Henry], whose estrangement from his son plays a major tole in Omari's acting-out. -- Each one in this excellent ensemble is given at least one moment that both furthers the plot and shows the desperation and fear they bring to dealing with an educational system seemingly rigged against them.
There are no easy solutions to the topics Ms. Morisseau proposes in her well-crafted social commentary. But seeing the emotionally charged ASF production of Pipeline could prompt at least a local willingness to talk with one another and move toward fixing a problem that has been with us for far too long.
Produced in partnership with the Equal Justice Initiative, it continues the important conversation about race that EJI's director Bryan Stevenson spurred with the opening a year and a half ago of Montgomery's "Legacy Museum" and "National Memorial for Peace and Justice".
Ms. Morisseau -- a 2018 MacArthur Foundation "Genius Grant" Fellow -- has written a taut and sometimes gut-wrenching drama about public school teacher Nya [Eunice Woods] attempting to do what she thinks is best for her son Omari [Jay Wade] by sending him to a private school where she hopes the environment will shelter him from the violent high school where she teaches.
Good impulses that go horribly wrong when an incident at the new school brought on by a teacher provokes Omari during a class discussion of novelist Richard Wright's Native Son; as the teacher insists that Omari be the spokesman for all Blacks -- and using such trigger words as "tamed", "animal", and "unleashed" -- the young man pushed the teacher out of righteous rage, thereby initiating an investigation and potential jail time for assault.
Early on in the production, Ms. Morisseau introduces poet Gwendolyn Brooks' "We Real Cool", a fatalist jazz influenced rif on the macho chest-beating of African-American youth -- outsiders who are resigned to a dead-end existence beyond their control, but who nonetheless continue their posturing. She punctuates the action with repeated fragments of the poem, so we are never far from the dominant theme of her play. And she seems to be inviting her audiences to engage in the conversation that might lead to an understanding of Omari's plight and end the dehumanizing of Black youth. -- Yes, this is a conversation we should be having.
Director Ron OJ Parson keeps the focus clearly on Nya and Omari as each one tries to navigate their ways through to a satisfactory conclusion -- Nya by not giving in to panic in the search for her son and offer help to him and even asking him to teach her: to help her understand, and Omari by temporarily running away to settle himself before admitting responsibility for his actions. -- Ms. Woods and Mr. Wade develop the complexities of their roles so audiences invest in both their conditions. There may be hope for reconciliation.
They are abetted along the way by Omari's girlfriend Jasmine [Toree Alexandre], Nya's outspoken veteran colleague Laurie [Barbara Figgins], dutiful school security guard Dun [Brian Nelson], and Nya's patriarchal ex-husband Xavier [Ethan Henry], whose estrangement from his son plays a major tole in Omari's acting-out. -- Each one in this excellent ensemble is given at least one moment that both furthers the plot and shows the desperation and fear they bring to dealing with an educational system seemingly rigged against them.
There are no easy solutions to the topics Ms. Morisseau proposes in her well-crafted social commentary. But seeing the emotionally charged ASF production of Pipeline could prompt at least a local willingness to talk with one another and move toward fixing a problem that has been with us for far too long.
Thursday, October 3, 2019
Cloverdale Playhouse: "Rumors"
Standing ovations are so routine that they have become meaningless gestures at almost every professional or amateur theatrical performance. -- How refreshing then to have a well-earned rapturous "seated ovation" greet the company of actors at the curtain call of The Cloverdale Playhouse's hilarious rendition of Neil Simon's Rumors.
As its next to last production of the "2019 Ensemble Season", director Mike Winkelman and his near perfect 10-member acting ensemble deliver an impressively clear and outrageously funny concoction in sumptuous formal black-and-white costumes [Katie Pearson] on a "large, tastefully-appointed" multi-leveled interior set [J. Scott Grinstead], the home of the Deputy Mayor of New York and his wife who are hosting their friends at a dinner party to celebrate their 10th anniversary.
The problem is that their first guests -- Ken [Nathan Jacobs] and Chris [Sarah Kay] -- discover that Charlie has shot himself (a flesh wound), his wife Myra is nowhere to be found, there are no servants to prepare and serve the food, and they are left to explain the situation to the other guests when they arrive.
Enter Lenny [Ari Hagler] and Claire [Sara MacNeil], and later Ernie [Marcus Clement] and Cookie [Emily Burke], and finally Glenn [Chris Paulk] and Cassie [Alex Rickerd], who variously hear and re-tell with variations the several versions of what happened -- too much for any of them to remember accurately as so much is invented on the spot.
Of course, every couple has "issues", and so many "rumors" are spread around until pandemonium rears its ugly head. -- No spoilers here, so let it suffice that with everyone arguing and agreeing or disagreeing on the proper course of action in telling the police as well as finding out why Charlie shot himself and where Myra has gone, the result is a well-tuned farce by a troupe of consummate comic actors, abetted at the end by two police officers [Chris Roquemore and Brittany Riki Sankey].
The two hour running time goes by so quickly because of the fully engaged and energetic antics of the ensemble, each one with specific quirks and sophisticated dialogue; their individual performances are specific and nuanced, and their generosity to one another while fully participating in every action demonstrates an across-the-board professionalism that is the hallmark of this production.
Audience laughter from the opening night's almost full house threatened to drown out some dialogue, yet the on-stage ensemble kept the action moving at sometimes galloping speed. Mr. Simon's masterful script has so many comical twists and turns, with plot surprises that stretch credibility, but are so good-natured that they are easily forgiven.
With the world around us causing so much division, what a relief it is to witness a masterfully written, directed, designed, and acted farce so deserving of its resounding "seated ovation.
As its next to last production of the "2019 Ensemble Season", director Mike Winkelman and his near perfect 10-member acting ensemble deliver an impressively clear and outrageously funny concoction in sumptuous formal black-and-white costumes [Katie Pearson] on a "large, tastefully-appointed" multi-leveled interior set [J. Scott Grinstead], the home of the Deputy Mayor of New York and his wife who are hosting their friends at a dinner party to celebrate their 10th anniversary.
The problem is that their first guests -- Ken [Nathan Jacobs] and Chris [Sarah Kay] -- discover that Charlie has shot himself (a flesh wound), his wife Myra is nowhere to be found, there are no servants to prepare and serve the food, and they are left to explain the situation to the other guests when they arrive.
Enter Lenny [Ari Hagler] and Claire [Sara MacNeil], and later Ernie [Marcus Clement] and Cookie [Emily Burke], and finally Glenn [Chris Paulk] and Cassie [Alex Rickerd], who variously hear and re-tell with variations the several versions of what happened -- too much for any of them to remember accurately as so much is invented on the spot.
Of course, every couple has "issues", and so many "rumors" are spread around until pandemonium rears its ugly head. -- No spoilers here, so let it suffice that with everyone arguing and agreeing or disagreeing on the proper course of action in telling the police as well as finding out why Charlie shot himself and where Myra has gone, the result is a well-tuned farce by a troupe of consummate comic actors, abetted at the end by two police officers [Chris Roquemore and Brittany Riki Sankey].
The two hour running time goes by so quickly because of the fully engaged and energetic antics of the ensemble, each one with specific quirks and sophisticated dialogue; their individual performances are specific and nuanced, and their generosity to one another while fully participating in every action demonstrates an across-the-board professionalism that is the hallmark of this production.
Audience laughter from the opening night's almost full house threatened to drown out some dialogue, yet the on-stage ensemble kept the action moving at sometimes galloping speed. Mr. Simon's masterful script has so many comical twists and turns, with plot surprises that stretch credibility, but are so good-natured that they are easily forgiven.
With the world around us causing so much division, what a relief it is to witness a masterfully written, directed, designed, and acted farce so deserving of its resounding "seated ovation.
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