Sex, Grift, and Death

Caryl Churchill is a remarkable playwright. She's smart and funny and political and personal and humane and moving and very very entertaining. Reading her scripts reveals that she is also a great collaborator: for example, for a funeral scene in Here We Go, part of the excellent Sex, Grift, and Death at PTP/NYC, she wrote a bunch of little speeches, unattributed, allowing the director to choose who says them and in what order. (In the fabulous Love and Information, done by NYTW some years ago, Churchill provided only the dialogue--no characters, ages, genders, locations, or situations--for dozens of short pieces.) 

David Barlow, Tara Giordano
Hot Fudge
Photo: Stan Barouh

In another section of the exceptional Here We Go, Churchill provides the mere scaffolding of a play in a way that invites audience members to provide their own storylines and details. The resulting experience becomes extremely personal to each viewer. It is a tour de force of writing that consists of almost no writing. 

Churchill is fortunate to have director Cheryl Faraone as one of the major interpreters of her work in the United States. We in the audience are fortunate as well. Faraone meets Churchill full on, mining her humor and emotion and giving us productions full of texture and clarity, perfectly timed, beautifully acted. 

Danielle Skraastad
Photo: Stan Barouh

There are two Churchill works in Sex, Grift, and Death. The first, Hot Fudge, is a complete pleasure as it depicts a family of grifters whose daughter is discovering that honesty just might be a worthwhile option. Faraone has guided the excellent cast to perfectly calibrated, extremely funny performances. Particularly noteworthy are the fabulous Danielle Skraastad, whose every utterance has the audience hysterical, and Tara Giordano, who anchors the fun in reality. 

The other play, Here We Go, is about illness, dying, and death. It is in three parts; the first and third are discussed above. In the second part, the versatile David Barlow plays a dead man trying to suss out just what death is. It's funny and thought-provoking and amazingly imaginative. It genuinely makes a person think about the meaning of life.

Jackie Sanders, Bill Army
Lunch
Photo: Stan Barouh

There's a third play in Sex, Grift, and Death, called Lunch. Written by Steven Berkoff, it deals with the sex part of the evening's title. A woman sits on a bench near the ocean, seemingly waiting for something/someone. A man appears--is he the one she is waiting for? The rest of the play deals with the answer to that question as they chat and spar and flirt and jockey for position. Their interaction turns sexy, thoughtful, and ugly in turn, and then back again. They are not named in the written script--just Man and Woman--though they are named in the play itself. Are they supposed to represent all men and women? Is the play about the striving of humanity for connection--or just for something to happen? With its occasional references to TS Eliot's The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," the play clearly has something to say, but it is too wordy for a brief one-act; one would have to read it multiple times to digest what is going on.

Ultimately, Lunch is an interesting and often entertaining show, and it features some impressive writing. But to watch rather than read, it might benefit from some serious pruning. Bill Army and Jackie Sanders are both quite good (although Army could be slower and clearer in his long speeches). 

Overall, Sex, Grift, and Death is a real treat. Welcome back to in-person theatre PTP/NYC. You were missed! 

Wendy Caster

Reverse Transcription

It is difficult to review Reverse Transcription, an evening of plays covering AIDS and covid, as theatre. The first piece, Robert Chesley's Dog Plays, is a story of despair and death written by a despairing and dying playwright. The second, A Variant Strain, written by Johnathan Adler and Jim Petosa as a continuation of the first, brings the AIDS-stricken main character into the days of covid. These plays depict deep pain, grief, and loss, and they are vivid reminders, if any are needed, of the tragedy of AIDS-related and covid-related deaths. I honor the emotions of these plays and I am sorry for everyone's losses.

Johnathan Tindle, James Patrick Nelson
Photo: Stan Barouh

However, and this is the dicey part, watching these plays was a deeply unpleasant, abrasive experience unmitigated by art or insight. The playwrights' anger lashed out at the audience, and I kept thinking, "What the fuck did we ever do to you?" Rather than inviting the audience in, the pieces put up blockades of blame and manipulation. 

Attacking your audience with loud, endless speeches and unremitting rage is not good writing, at least in my opinion. (Though some of the speeches were truly excellent.) How about a little humor? Warmth? Likeability? Look at Angels in America, The Normal Heart, even Boys in the Band. There are genuine people in those plays, not just spewing mouthpieces. It was pretty much impossible to feel involved and sympathetic at Reverse Transcription, except for the brief scene shown above, where the admirable Johnathan Tindle brought a depth and sensitivity otherwise missing in the evening. 

I agree that the shows' creators have the right to produce exactly what they want to produce. I agree that anger is a legitimate topic for theatre. I agree that AIDS was an unimaginably horrible agent of destruction. I think every day of my friends who have been dead half my life and all they have missed. But those plays being in the audience's faces for two hours added nothing to our existence or understanding and, well, cost us those two hours.

I realize as I write this that I was angry watching the plays and am angrier now. Maybe this means that Reverse Transcription was actually successful. I don't know. But I sure don't recommend that you go and see it.

Wendy Caster

Standing on the Edge of Time

The Potomac Theatre Project's recent streaming play, Standing on the Edge of Time, consists largely of people talking--alone, in pairs, or in groups--about  history, theatre, relationships (romantic and not), and meaning. Each segment is by a different playwright or poet, resulting in a pleasing and thought-provoking verbal kaleidoscope of words and ideas. (I've provided a list of the shows represented below.) With many young people in the cast, the show sometimes feels like groups of college kids got together for slightly buzzed, totally heartfelt, 2-a.m. discussions. I frequently wished I could join them. 

Rather than discussing the individual segments, of which there are almost 20, I offer some of the lines that stood out for me.

• All theatres are haunted.
• Most people are stupid and couldn't tell a play from a pineapple.
• My real sister became a nun to meet men.
• To be or nobody.
• Paranoia transcends politics; it becomes spiritual.
• God wants peacocks, not ravens.
• These are cold days, not to be believed.
• I believe humans will walk on the surface on Mars.
• The flying car will radically alter [making out].
• [There will be] a global epidemic of panic and mass despair.
• Sex will become [boring]; Tupperware will make dildos.
• They fucked up in the 60s. They took away all the values and didn't put anything in its place.
• On this planet one is overwhelmed.

One of my favorite lines comes from "What Do You Believe About the Future?" by David Auburn. After around a dozen people make their predictions, some of which are in the list above, a young man says, "I believe I will get a date."

Two points: (1) I wish I had been able to see this in a theatre. (No shit, huh?) I am much better able to sink into the mood and pacing of a word-driven piece like this in a dark theatre than in my studio apartment. (2) I really wish that the pieces had been identified as they started. I completely get why director Cheryl Faraone would not want to interrupt the flow of discussion with title cards or captions, but not knowing was problematic too. I was sometimes distracted by thinking, for example, "Wait, I've heard that before. Is that Kushner? Churchill?" And then I was distracted by thinking, "Wow, I really should be able to distinguish the voices of such individual playwrights." (The only author I identified with no problem was Ntozake Shange; she truly sounds like no one else.)

Faraone forestalls the inevitable Zoom-ness of streaming plays with an appealing, overtly theatrical opening including atmospheric shots of an old theatre and a ringmaster sort of person discussing exactly what theatre is ("Like the inside of a human heart. Only bigger, and not as empty."). When sections do have the dreaded Zoom-like boxes, Faraone uses interesting angles and various other devices to provide variety, plus a few sections are shot outdoors.

The show is well-acted by Alex Draper, Stephanie Janssen, Christopher Marshall, Tara Giordano, Sheyenne Brown, Aubrey Dube, Wynn McClenahan, Becca Berlind, Gabrielle Martin, Maggie Connolly, Madison Middleton, Francis Price, and Gibson Grimm.

It is unfortunate that this show is already gone, but Potomac has one more show this season. A Small Handful is based on the poetry and life of Anne Sexton and utilizes speech, song, and performance to "discover something about the endurance of Anne Sexton’s complex journey." It runs August 13 to 17; more information can be found here.

***

The plays and poems of Standing on the Edge of Time.

Crowbar by Mac Wellman

Next Time I'll Sing to You by James Saunders

The Enemy by Mike Bartlett

Excerpts from "Strange Days Indeed: The Golden Age of Paranoia" by Francis Wheen

Skeleton Crew by Dominique Morisseau

Tales of the Lost Formicans by Constance Congdon

Red Noses by Peter Barnes

A Bright Room Called Day (Oranges) by Tony Kushner

Roar by Anna Deavere Smith

Spell of Motion by Stacie Cassarino

What Do You Believe About the Future? by David Auburn

Serial Monogamy by Ntozake Shange

Tickets Are Now on Sale by Caryl Churchill

In Perpetuity Throughout the Universe by Eric Overmyer

Mornings at the Lake by Stacie Cassarino

The Internet is Serious Business by Tim Price

Far Away (PTP/NYC)

In the past couple of decades, Caryl Churchill has perfected the oblique and concentrated one-act play, somehow providing the intellectual challenge and emotional punch of the best of full-length plays in less than an hour. Examples include Escaped Alone (55 minutes), a cutting examination of  people maintaining "normality" as the world unravels; A Number (60 minutes), which considers cloning from a clone's point of view; and Drunk Enough to Say I Love You (45 minutes), an evisceration of the United States' treatment of other countries. 

Caitlin Duffy and Ro Boddie

And then there is Far Away, which brilliantly depicts an existence that is just to the right of our current world. (The original New York production, in 2002, came across as a "what if" exercise, with a certain amount of insanity/metaphor/magic realism. In 2020, after many "what ifs" have actually occurred, the world of Far Away feels considerably less far away.)

Nesba Crenshaw and Lilah May Pfeiffer 

It's difficult to describe Far Away without spoilers. In fact, almost any description would tell too much. Suffice to say that it depicts a world where good things happen, horrible things happen, and as regular people go from day to day in their uncontroversial lives they may be more complicit than they would ever guess. 

The excellent PTP/NYC posted an amazingly successful streaming version of Far Away last week. Cheryl Faraone directed with her usual subtle intelligence, and she made simple but effective decisions to utilize the strengths of streaming (everyone in the audience has an excellent seat) and bypass the weaknesses (the use of identical backdrops and choreographed looks between actors make it easy to forget that they were not in the same room). Unfortunately, the current situation made impossible a truly amazing coup de theatre in the play, and I'm not sure that Faraone's replacement was sufficient to let new audiences know exactly what was going on. (In the original NY production at the NYTW, the scene was equal parts thrilling and chilling.)

In a streaming production, the skills of the performers are particularly important, and the cast is terrific: Lilah May Pfeiffer nicely shows that the questioning nature of young people can become dangerous; Nesba Crenshaw believably sinks into paranoia--or does she?--without ever seeming crazy; Ro Boddie charms as he negotiates finding a coworker attractive; and Caitlin Duffy is superbly both guarded and transparent as she struggles to understand what is happening inside and outside of her world and how she should respond.

It may seem strange to review a production that is no longer available and that can't be discussed in any real detail, but here's the thing: the wonderful people at PTP/NYC are already planning their next season, which will likely include other strong and significant shows, beautifully produced. That's what they've been doing for decades. 

Wendy Caster

2019-2020: Looking Back, Looking Forward: The Glories of Off- and Off-Off-Broadway

I was going to do a "best-of" for 2019 plus a "looking forward" for 2020, when I realized that their focus would be much the same: the treasure that is non-Broadway theatre.

I'm not denying the treasure that is on-Broadway theatre. There's something undeniably magical about those buildings, with their plush seats, ornate ceilings, and theatrical history. And there are always incredible shows running. But the prices are truly insane.

Once, when I was a kid, my parents were complaining about the price of something. I said, "But that's what it costs now." And my dad said, "Someday you'll be faced with a 'that's what it costs now' that you just refuse to pay. You just can't." I recently decided to bite the bullet and spend a small fortune to see American Utopia. But a small fortune wasn't enough. Could I have afforded the actual price? Yes, as a special treat. But I just couldn't do it. My dad was right.

Maybe it's because I'm old enough to have spent $9 on a "special treat" ticket--Debbie Reynolds in Irene, first row center. I was making $1.95/hr, minimum wage. Now minimum wage is ~$15/hr, and tickets are hundreds of dollars. Something is wrong on Broadway.

But Off-Broadway, and Off-Off-Broadway, something is right. You can see fabulous shows with brilliant casts from great seats, and it doesn't cost an arm and a leg. Not even a finger.

Here are ten of the theatre companies that I have found to provide reliably top-notch work at accessible, even cheap, prices. (All are linked to their websites; they're in alphabetical order.)

APAC. It's a pleasure to start with APAC (Astoria Performing Arts Center), which is high on my list of favorite theatre companies, mostly because the artistic director--Dev Bondarin--is one of the most reliably excellent directors in New York. In fact, when Roundabout announced their production of Caroline, or Change, my first thought was that I hoped it would be as good as APAC's!

And here's the thing: APAC's tickets for Caroline were only $25 for adults and $20 for students and senior citizens--an insane bargain. (I don't know if they will go up in the future, but even so, APAC will remain a bargain. Their Caroline was every bit as meaningful, beautiful, and heart-breaking as the original Broadway production!)

APAC has given us brilliant productions of Follies (amazing) and Merry We Roll Along (my favorite of all the productions I have seen, including the original), to mention only a couple. The rest of the 2019-2020 season includes the New York premiere of Jump by Charly Evon Simpson and a revival of Man of La Mancha. And who knows what 2020-2021 will bring?

Bedlam. I'm new to Bedlam, but after seeing their excellent revival of The Crucible (and also on the recommendation of a friend whose opinion I respect), I don't plan to miss any of their shows going forward. They don't seem to have announced their 2020 season, and I wasn't able to track down their ticket prices. (I bought my Crucible tickets on tdf.) But click here for their Facebook page, which may provide more up-to-date info than their website.

Elmwood Playhouse (Nyack, NY). I've only seen one show at the Elmwood, and to be honest I've heard some non-raves about their earlier work. But their production of The Little Foxes was solid, entertaining, and moving. Currently running is the Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, and tickets are only $27 ($24 for seniors and students). The rest of the season includes Born Yesterday, The Drowsy Chaperone, and Calendar Girls.

Flux Theatre Ensemble. I have been a huge Flux fan since 2009 when I saw the wonderful Lesser Seductions of History, a lovely and deeply humane play by Corinna Schulenburg, beautifully directed by Heather Cohn. In the intervening years, I've seen another 15 or so Flux productions, and an insanely large percentage of them have been amazing, incredible, thought-provoking, funny, and all the other things one hopes plays to be.

And talk about inexpensive! Flux doesn't even ask you to lay out money to get a ticket. They do ask you to support Flux in any way you can, but they don't want the price of a ticket to keep people from seeing their shows. (For more info, click here.) I donate to Flux every year.

Next at Flux: the world premiere of Rage Play by Nandita Shenoy, directed by Lori Elizabeth Parquet. Runs March 28 through April 11.

Mint Theater Company. The Mint's tag line is "lost plays found here." And what treasures these lost plays are! Also, the Mint has a truly astonishing batting average, providing excellent production after excellent production after excellent production. There was one show I hated, but about a dozen that I liked, liked a lot, or loved. And Mint productions are often eye-opening. Who knew that plays in the early 20th century were grappling so honestly with sexuality and class?

Currently at the Mint is Chekhov/Tolstoy: Love Stories. While I prefer it when the Mint focuses on more obscure writers, I am sure that this production will be worthwhile. After all, it's the Mint! (Ticket prices: $35.00 - $65.00.)

PTP/NYC. The PTP/NYC is yet another theatre company that provides excellent production after excellent production. Here's how they describe themselves on their website:

PTP/NYC is an Off-Broadway powerhouse of veteran and emerging talent creating socially and politically acute theatre for the 21st century. In its 27 seasons [actually, it's 33 now], the voices of PTP/NYC’s writers have addressed the necessity and difficulty of art, homelessness, censorship, pornography, AIDS, totalitarianism, apartheid and gender wars—always in passionate, deeply human terms. Playwrights whose work is often seen on the company’s stages include Howard Barker, Caryl Churchill, Harold Pinter and Neal Bell. 

I have been blown away again and again by PTP/NYC, particularly by plays directed by co-artistic director Cheryl Faraone. Faraone's productions are lucid and smart; she lets the plays tell their stories with a subtle and smooth hand.

I don't know what PTP/NYC has up their sleeve; unfortunately, their website is terrible. But I do know that, whatever they produce, I'll be there.

Red Bull Theater. The Red Bull focuses on past centuries--often far past. For example, their next (one-night) event is a January 27 reading of Women Beware Women, Thomas Middleton's 17th century social satire. (There are $47 tickets left, and the reading has a very classy cast. For more info, click here). Sometimes I wish Red Bull productions were clearer; sometimes I wish they were truer to the original plays. But I'm always grateful to have seen their productions, feeling entertained and/or educated. And sometimes I'm blown away.

Signature Theatre. The Signature has a unique role in NY theatre, focusing largely on living playwrights but often including revivals of their earlier works. Signature used to pick one playwright per season; now they combine "legacy" and "residency" playwrights. The 2019-2020 season includes plays by Anna Deavere Smith, Horton Foote, Katori Hall, and Lauren Yee. And tickets are $35. Thirty-five dollars! (And ticket packages eliminate any fees, while providing a generous exchange policy.)

Voyage Theater Company. The VTC is brand-new to me, but I'm putting them on this list based on their production of The Hope Hypothesis. There's no way to know if their future productions will be as good, but I do know I'll give them a try.

York Theatre Company. The York is devoted to musicals, old and new, with main stage productions (such as the wonderful Desperate Measures and Unexpected Joy), concert readings (the fabulous Mufti series, recently including the very entertaining The Decline and Fall of the Entire World as Seen Through the Eyes of Cole Porter), and a developmental series of over 30 readings a year. (Shows developed or partially developed at the York include Avenue Q and the brilliant, insanely funny Musical of Musicals: The Musical.) Some York shows are flat-out wonderful; minimally, the Muftis are of of historical interest; the casts are often top-notch; and the voices are unmiked. Main stage tickets are $67.50 - $72.50; Muftis are $45 - $50. Plus you can get a York membership, which reduces the ticket prices significantly, and there are various forms of rush tickets.

***

Strange to think that, for a price of a pair of tickets to a Broadway show, you could see a show or two at all ten of these theatre companies! And I hope you do.

Wendy Caster

Havel: The Passion of Thought

Once upon a time, not all that long ago, I watched certain political plays with a sense of distance, deeply sympathetic to the characters and deeply grateful that those awful things weren't happening to me. Then a certain election happened, our country changed with breath-taking rapidity, and some of my white privilege bit the dust.

This all struck me, hard, while watching PTP/NYC's excellent evening of one acts, Havel: The Passion of Thought, which consists of three plays by Václav Havel, one by Harold Pinter, and one by Samuel Beckett. Václav Havel was a dissident playwright in Czechoslovakia who was harassed for years, spent time in jail, was beaten, and became president when communism was toppled. He didn't actually choose to be a dissident: "We simply went ahead and did certain things that we felt we ought to do, and that seemed to us decent to do, nothing more nor less.”

As assembled by director Richard Romagnoli, with the Pinter first, the Beckett last, and the Havels in between, Havel: The Passion of Thought takes us on a journey that includes terror, powerlessness, and farce. Our guide for the journey is the character Vanek (David Barlow), a man who upsets other people's balance simply by living an honest life. Vanek is the protagonist of the three Havel plays, and via Romagnoli's structure, appears in the other plays as well.

In Pinter's The New World Order, the Vanek-ish character merely sits there as two torturers discuss what they are going to do to them. Their dialogue reveals them as monsters, but human ones.

In the first Havel play, Interview, Vanek has an extended discussion with his boss. Due to a government crackdown on the arts, the best job Vanek has been able to get is moving kegs from one place to another in a brewery (this is directly from Havel's own life). His boss is overfond of the brewery's product, and the seemingly friendly conversation throbs with menace. Vanek says little and remains calm throughout.

Michael Laurence, David Barlow
Interview
photo: Stan Barouh

In Private View, a couple who has compromised themselves into material comfort take Vanek on a bizarrely personal tour of their overdecorated apartment and supposedly wonderful lives. The couple's lady-doth-protest-too-much message, over and over, is that Vanek should be more like them. Again, Vanek says little, but it doesn't matter; the couple continue to project all of their doubts, self-hatred, and despair onto him.

Christopher Marshall, David Barlow, Emily Kron
Private View
photo: Stan Barouh

The third Havel play, and perhaps the best, is Protest. Vanek's old friend Stanekova, whom he hasn't seen in years, has summoned him to her comfortable home. Here again, comfort represents compromise. She is hoping to enlist him in a campaign to get her future son-in-law released from jail. As it happens, Vanek has been assembling signatures on a petition for just this reason. Naturally, he asks her to sign. But will she? She discusses the pros and cons at length, and is angered by Vanek's quietness, which she interprets as opprobrium; she, like the couple above, projects her self-criticism and guilt onto him.

Danielle Skraastad, David Barlow
Protest
photo: Stan Barouh

Protest is tough to watch because it invites the audience to consider what risks we would take--and, more to the point, wouldn't take--to fight injustice.

The evening ends with a brief Beckett play, Catastrophe, which Beckett dedicated to Havel. In a physicalization of powerlessness, the Vanek character is on a pedestal, silent, with no agency, as his body as moved about to please a director-dictator. It is powerful, although it is difficult to switch one's head from a Havel mode (largely representational theatre) to a Beckett mode (anything but).

Madeleine Ciocci, David Barlow, Emily Ballou
Catastrophe
photo: Stan Barouh

When I mentioned to a friend that I was going to this evening of plays, he joked that I was likely to have an edifying evening. And I did. The evening was also impressive and painful. To say it was thought-provoking is only accurate if you picture the thoughts as being elicited by ice-pick jabs to the brain and heart.

As usual with PTP/NYC, the pieces are well-acted. In particular, David Barlow does an amazing job spending most of the evening listening, which is no small feat.

The lighting (Hallie Zieselman) is outstanding, supporting and enhancing the mood of each piece. The excellent costumes are designed by Glenna Ryer, and the smart scenery by Mark Evancho.

Thanks once again to PTP/NYC for doing work that matters.

Wendy Caster
(fourth row, press ticket)

Dogg's Hamlet, Cahoots Macbeth

Sometimes the plot in Dogg's Hamlet, Cahoots Macbeth by Tom Stoppard, first produced in 1979, runs too close to home. But some background first:

In Dogg's Hamlet, practically everyone speaks in Dogg, a guttural-sounding language that is a mix-up of actual words. A school in England is presenting a 15-minute version of Hamlet, which is spoken in a "foreign" language, English, and emphasizes the play's best-known lines. At its completion, the cast performs another, abbreviated version in a breakneck encore. Lots of hilarity ensues as communication misunderstanding arise and the play's pace quickens. Directed by Cheryl Faraone, PTP's co-artistic director, the first half shows the power of language while ebullient physical comedy displays how easily communication becomes disconnected.

Cahoots Macbeth serves as a companion piece, emphasizing the importance of free expression since the play is part of a forbidden living-room production, where the audience is well, the audience watching, and an Inspector keeps interrupting the unfolding action of Macbeth murdering his way to the Scottish throne--a disturbing parallel to the Communist takeover of Czechoslovakia (where, in 1977, covert theatre acted as a protest since artists could not perform publicly) as well as to modern times where free speech is dismantled by repressive governments more everyday.

Chirstopher Marshall, Christo Grabowski, Tara Giordano in Cahoot's Macbeth.Photographer Stan Barouh.

Stoppard, born in Czechoslovakia, left the country at two and while he never lived under its Communist oppression conveys it perfectly here--making it unnerving and absurd simultaneously. Even as the audience laughs while actors spar with the Inspector there is an acknowledged silent truth that Big Brother could be watching. Ultimately, Dogg becomes the method of protest as Cahoot ends.

Overall, the cast is excellent, with a few stand-outs. Christo Grabowski as Fox Major/Hamlet and Banquo/Cahoot is iron-sharp with his dialogue and a graceful presence cavorting on stage. Matthew Ball as Easy navigates a difficult role, naturally conveying his confusion at a language he doesn't understand as he charmingly becoming an essential participant in the whimsical construction of the school's set--where several nonsensical phrases are spelled out before Dogg's Hamlet appears.

At times the production inventively modernizes the work. The three witches wear hoods that light up eerily around their face. The costumes, a hybrid of period pieces and contemporary clothes like jeans though, seem inconsistent though (Costumes by Chris Romagnoli-Dogg; Rebecca Lalon-Cahoot). There are also opportunities for Faraone to push the piece further into current times. It would be interesting to see a truly contemporary version of Stoppard's play set in our modern world.

For more on the show, see Wendy Caster's excellent review.

Running at PTP/NYC at The Atlantic Stage 2 (330 W. 16th St.) through August 4 in repertory with Havel: The Passion of Thought, five one-act plays by Vaclav Havel, Harold Pinter and Samuel Beckett. For more information, see http:PTPNYC.org To see the 2019 season promo trailer, click here. 

(Press ticket)

Dogg's Hamlet, Cahoot's Macbeth

Tom Stoppard's Dogg's Hamlet, Cahoot's Macbeth plays with language and slapstick, presents fascinating mini-versions of two of Shakespeare's masterpieces, vividly depicts the importance of theatre under repressive government, and messes with your brain. It is both fun and important. In other words, it's Tom Stoppard.

Lucy Van Atta, Peter Schmitz,
Christo Grabowski, Connor Wright
Dogg's Hamlet
photo: Stan Barouh

Dogg's Hamlet takes place at public school (in English parlance) or a private school (in American). The students are rehearsing Hamlet. They speak a strange language that makes no sense until it starts making sense. The highly-truncated version of Hamlet presented is an excellent reminder that Shakespeare pretty much invented idiomatic English. (To thine own self be true. Shuffle off this mortal coil. There's the rub. Though this be madness, yet there is method in't. The lady doth protest too much. I must be cruel only to be kind. The play's the thing. Neither a borrower nor a lender be. I am sick at heart. This too shall pass. Brevity is the soul of wit.) Dogg's Hamlet is a fabulous mental workout.

Cahoot's Macbeth takes place in an LRT, or Living Room Theatre, in 1970s Czechoslovakia. LRTs were developed when the government cracked down on theatre, forbidding public performances and giving the artists jobs as janitors, clerks, and the like. Macbeth is interrupted by a government inspector who is snide, mean, all-knowing, and frightening. (And, since Cahoot's Macbeth is by Stoppard, she is also funny.)

As presented by the invaluable PTP/NYC and directed by the superb Cheryl Faraone, Dogg's Hamlet, Cahoot's Macbeth serves a one-two punch of theatre, full of humor, meaning, provocation, and pathos. (It is running in repertory with Havel: The Passion of Thought which includes works by Harold Pinter, Václav  Havel, and Samuel Beckett. Havel is, in one way or another, the heart of all of these works.)

The cast (Matthew Ball, Denise Cormier, Olivia Christie, Tara Giordano, Christo Grabowski, Will Koch, Emily Ma, Christopher Marshall, Katie Marshall, Madeleine Russell, Peter B. Schmitz, Lior Selve, Lucy Van Atta, Zach Varicchione, Connor Wright) is top-notch, as are the production values (Mark Evancho, set; Rebecca Lafon, costumes, Cahoot’s Macbeth; Ellery Rhodes, sound; Chris Romagnoli, costumes, Dogg's Hamlet; Hallie Zieselman, lighting).

I am so grateful to PTP/NYC for their commitment to meaningful theatre and high standards. I try to see every show they put on. (And I sure would like to see Cheryl Faraone's Cloud Nine. Hint. Hint.)

Wendy Caster
(press ticket, third row)

The Possibilities/The After-Dinner Joke

No theatre is offering more bang for your buck--or return on your time--than PTP/NYC with their evening of one acts: The Possibilities, by Howard Barker, and The After-Dinner Joke, by Caryl Churchill. The first consists of four short plays, the second of 66 brief scenes. The shows are smart, thought-provoking, and often fun, and these productions are terrific. Together, they add up to an amazing evening in the theatre.

The Possibilities, from the late 1980s, includes a total of ten plays. I would be quite interested in seeing the six not included in this PTP/NYC evening.

The first play is The Unforeseen Consequences of A Patriotic Act, in which Judith (she of Holofernes' decapitation) refuses to embrace the role of heroine, despite the pleading of a woman (Eliza Renner) who wants Judith to be an example "to women everywhere." This Judith owns her sexuality, and her rage, and has no interest in censoring the blood and lust from her story. The excellent Kathleen Wise as Judith and the equally excellent Renner go head-to-head with great gusto, but, really, you can't mess with Judith and get away with it. It's a fine piece and bizarrely echoes the way that publicists may try to write a personality for a politician or actor that has little to do with the person and much to do with some goal, be it important or not, moral or not.

The Unforeseen Consequences of A Patriotic Act
Eliza Renner, Kathleen Wise, Marianne Tatum
Photo: Stan Barouh 

Brecht on Brecht

It comes as no surprise that Bertolt Brecht's most incisive and cynical writings are painfully timely, right here, right now. The PTP/NYC production of Brecht on Brecht knows this fact and utilizes it, as adding Mexicans and Muslims to a piece about Jews, emphasizing the frightening parallels between now and Germany in the 1930s.

Photo: Stan Barouh

It did come as a surprise, to me at least, that director Jim Petosa chose to present this piece as Story-Theatre-Meets-Godspell, with red noses, zooming shopping carts, and other cheerful accouterments. Much of this direction worked in its own way, but it didn't quite fit with the stories being told.

Another problem with this production is that some of the performers just aren't up to the high-level singing and acting required to do Brecht's more difficult pieces. It also doesn't help that the show ends with an extended monologue ("The Jewish Wife") followed by an extended song ("Surabaya Johnny"). It reminded me of when you've been driving for hours at 70 mph and have to slow down to 40, and how you feel as though you're frozen in place.

And yet there is much here that is worthwhile. First of all, of course, there is Brecht. His writing is razor-sharp, insightful, and full of the sort of rue that is painfully easy for the audience to share. And the cast does acquit itself well on many pieces, particularly the spoken ones. And did I mention it's Brecht?

Wendy Caster
(2nd row, press ticket)
Show-Score Score: 70

Cast: Harrison Bryan, Christine Hamel, Carla Martinez, Jake Murphy, Miguel Castillo, Olivia Christie, Sebastian LaPointe and Ashley Michelle. Production team: Ronnie Romano (Music Director and Pianist), Hallie Zieselman (Set Design), Joe Cabrera (Lighting Design), Annie Ulrich (Costume Design) and Alex Williamson (Production Stage Manager).

Brecht on Brecht

Brecht on Brecht takes the work of dramatist Bertolt Brecht, a polarizing post-war Germany writer whose work criticized anti-Semitism and fascism, and compiles a provocative grouping of his plays, poems and essays. Hungarian playwright and adapter George Tabori’s revue premiered in 1961 and resonates an uncanny timeliness in a world where the power of dictators and intolerance is growing. "If, as our leaders proclaim, loudly over their loudspeakers that the Jews, the Mexicans, the Muslims are responsible for all our misfortune, and since are leaders are extremely wise and never cease to emphasize the fact..." as the script says at one point, could almost be a modern-day tweet.

Harrison Bryan, Christine Hamel, Jake Murphy and Carla Martinez. Photo by Stan Barouh.

The PTP/NYC revival, directed by Co-Artistic Director Jim Petosa offers an engaging yet uneven presentation of the life of the man probably most known for collaborating on The Three-Penny Opera with composer Kurt Weill. One of the best numbers is "Ballad of Mack the Knife," featuring Harrison Bryan who succeeds in projecting menace with a charming twinkle in his eye. Christine Hamel, as Judith from The Jewish Wife, offers an emotionally charged soliloquy as she speaks about needing to leave Nazi Germany and her husband behind - "Character is a question of time," she says. "It only lasts for awhile, just like a glove ... What kind of men are you? Yes, you too! You discover the quantum-theory, you invent heart-operations, but you let yourselves be ordered about by these half-savages, so that you may conquer the world, but you're not allowed to keep the wife you want."

This moment resonates and lingers - bringing the past forward to the present as Hamel projects hurt, fear of the future and the love for those Judith separates from while showing the heartbreak of the refugee, of the persecuted. But moments like this are fleeting. At times, the show seems overly frenetic with a false frivolity. When the cast enters and tosses their music on the floor and dons clown noses the pace of the show races unnecessarily so. Then, suddenly, the action falls as a more quiet pieces like "Nanna's Lied/Songs About My Mother," begin without real transition. The hyperactivity dilutes the fire of Brecht's activism.

Harrison Bryan. Photo by Stan Barouh.

The spare set (scenic design by Hallie Zieselman), consisting of criss-crossed rugs, and a piano create a nice space for the eight-member cast. Music director and pianist, Ronnie Romano, is flawless. Costumes by Annie Ulrich bridge the past and the present with outfits that represent different time periods.

Brecht on Brecht is part of PTP/NYC's (Potomac Theatre Project) 32nd repertory season that runs through August 5 at The Atlantic Stage 2 (330 West 16 St). For more information, see http://PTPNYC.org.

(Press Seat)