Big Apple Circus

Tired of the news? Depressed by the weird meanness of humans? Maybe you need a mini-vacation. Maybe you need to bask in the weird wonder of humans.

Jayson Dominguez and the Wheel of Death
Photo: Matthew Murphy

Big Apple Circus is a cure for what ails us. Over the course of a couple of hours gorgeous humans challenge their gorgeous bodies to do dangerous, bizarre, scary, lovely, and gorgeous things. Such as juggling umbrellas--seriously, gorgeous. Or balancing on one another's bodies in amazingly challenging positions. Or riding a bike across a high wire. Or skipping rope 30 feet in the air. Or taking trapeze to a whole 'nother level--as though regular ole trapeze was not sufficiently thrilling. You get the idea.

Rafael Ferreira and Alan Pagnota
Photo: Matthew Murphy

Big Apple promises that no seats are further than 50 feet from the stage, and we in the audience get to watch each other as well as the performers. It's great fun to glance across a few rows of the audience and see wide-eyed, open-mouthed looks of astonishment--and those are the adults! The kids pretty much radiate joy.

Ringmaster Storm Marrero
Photo: Matthew Murphy

I have to take a moment for my yearly complaint: Big Apple and all circuses need to stop animal acts. Horses were not made to ride in tight circles while someone jumps on them. Period.

Kyle Driggs
Photo: Matthew Murphy

This year, however, I have to add an exception: the Savitsky Cats! They're not lions or tigers, but little ole house cats. With most animal acts, many of us in the audience spend all of our time worrying about the poor creatures and wishing their "trainers" would leave them the heck alone. But anyone who has ever had house cats knows a simple fact: they only do what they want to do. In fact, the best part of the cat act is when the cats refuse to cooperate and give the trainers the well-known feline "eff you" look. It's a hoot. (But, seriously, leave the horses alone!)

A Savitsky cat from America's Got Talent

Big Apple Circus is committed to inclusivity, as reflected in some special performances. The following is from their press release:

• For one night only (December 5 at 5:30PM) there will be a completely empathetic and immersive experience where audiences will enjoy a three-course dinner and the show--all while wearing a blindfold. The performance is fully guided and audio described, and it will provide the audience with the incredible perspectives afforded only to the blind.
  
• Sensory-friendly Autism performances (October 26 and November 1st at 11 am) feature lowered light and sound levels, a complete social story available for download with a descriptive picture book showing the different areas and acts involved with the circus, a professionally staffed “calming center,” and additional support that can be accessed at any point during the show.
  
• As part of the Circus for All initiative, eighteen performances throughout the fifteen-week run will offer $10 tickets for every seat in the house to underserved schools and community groups. In addition to the tickets, Big Apple Circus offers a complete study guide highlighting both CORE and STEAM curriculums for the students to learn about science, history, geography, and more first-hand as they experience the Big Apple Circus.
  
• Tickets are now on sale at www.Ticketmaster.com The regular performance schedule is Wednesdays at 11 am and 7 pm; Thursdays at 11 am and 7 pm; Fridays at 11 am 7 pm; Saturdays at 11 am, 3 pm, and 7 pm; and Sundays at 12 pm and 4 pm. As there are schedule variances, please refer to the most up-to-date calendar on the website. 

I hope you get a chance to go.

Wendy Caster

(first row, center, press ticket)

Yes, the circus does bring out the kid in everyone!

Macbeth

The production of Macbeth at the Classic Stage Company (CSC), directed and designed by John Doyle, is a streamlined affair. It runs 1:40 without an intermission; it has a cast of only nine people; it makes do with a bare wooden thrust stage with movable benches and a plain wooden throne; and the costumes are simple, in dark colors and topped by overlong blankets.

Corey Stoll
Photo: Joan Marcus

I'm not sure who the audience is supposed to be. The production is pretty straightforward, so it would seem to be appropriate for a wide range of audiences, including newbies. However, many of the performers play multiple roles, and it can be difficult to tell who they are, particularly since women sometimes play men, the costumes give little clue as to class or position, and characters who are family members are cast from different races. I don't mean to criticize these decisions per se. I enjoy multicultural casting, and I would gladly live in a world where Mary Beth Peil is king. But the decisions detract rather than add to the play's intelligibility.

Mary Beth Peil
Photo: Joan Marcus

The audience at the performance I attended was full of young people, in their teens and even younger. Some watched attentively; a few fell asleep; some seemed to be daydreaming; and most laughed at any moment that was funny in a familiar and recognizable way. They particularly enjoyed Nadia Bowers as Lady Macbeth (as did I), and I suspect that's because she has the gift of making Shakespearean English sound clear and even contemporary. Bowers also does the evil thing rather deliciously. Overall, however, the show does a disservice to young audiences by obfuscating rather than elucidating the goings-on.

Nadia Bowers
Photo: Joan Marcus

(A strange and distracting problem with this production is the cumbersome blankets that the cast members must schlepp around. They frequently threaten to trip up the performers--and sometimes actually do. At one point, Lady M rises in a pointed and sinuous manner from lying atop Macbeth. It's a fabulous piece of character work, except that the night I saw it, Bowers had to keep kicking away part of a blanket that had caught her foot.)

Of course, Macbeth ultimately relies on the quality of the actor essaying the lead role. Corey Stoll is uneven. Sometimes he is compelling, clear, and even fascinating. Other times, he seems curiously uninvolved. His version of the famous speech after Lady M's death is so off-hand as to be little more than a bunch of words.

Overall, this is not a must-see Macbeth. It's not bad, but it's also not distinct or distinguished. It just kinda is.

Wendy Caster
(third row, audience right, press ticket)

Forbidden Broadway: The Next Generation

Once upon a time, Broadway was full of larger-than-life stars (often women) easily identified by their distinctive voices and mannerisms. Gwen Verdon. Carol Channing. Ethel Merman. Elaine Stritch. Patti Lupone. Mandy Patinkin. Bernadette Peters. They were the stuff of impersonators' and satirists' dreams. In addition, Broadway was more significant to US culture than it is now.

Today's stars are often as talented in their own ways, or even more so, but not larger than life. Kelli O'Hara. Sutton Foster. Ben Platt. Santino Fontana. Katrina Lenk. And they don't have the level of fame the old-timers do/did.

For Gerard Alessandrini, creator of the hilarious Forbidden Broadway series, these changes must have presented a major challenge. In Forbidden Broadway: The Next Generation, Alessandrini meets the challenge by taking on Broadway as a living idea, rooted in old ways and growing toward new ones. Yes, he and his excellent cast provide us with fabulous over-the-top versions of Bob Fosse, Gwen Verdon, Bette Midler, Jennifer Holliday, and Bernadette Peters, but they also take on the musicalization of every damn movie ever made, juke box musicals, Irish drama, inclusivity, and "woke-ness." This Forbidden Broadway is, as always, hysterically funny, but it's also surprisingly moving. Alessandrini adores the theatre, and his love is always present, even at his skewering best.

Jenny Lee Stern, Chris Collins-Pisano
Photo: Carol Rosegg

The star of Forbidden Broadway: The Next Generation is Jenny Lee Stern. Alessandrini smartly makes sure that all the roles are identified by name ("I'm Amber Gray," "I'm André De Shields"), but this safety net is not needed when Stern is on stage. I particularly loved her Gwen Verdon and Judy Garland, but she was also great playing an old lady in a coma.

The rest of the performers--Immanuel Houston, Chris Collins-Pisano, Aline Mayagoitia, and Joshua Turchin--are solid and funny, and musical director Fred Barton provides verve, pacing, and a structure for the insanity. Also contributing brilliantly are Gerry McIntyre (choreography), Dustin Cross (costumes), and Conor Donnelly (wigs).

Houston, Mayagoitia, Stern (back row)
Collins-Pisano, Turchin (front row)
Photo: Carol Rosegg

I laughed for about 78 minutes of Forbidden Broadway: The Next Generation's 80-minute run time. The other two minutes, I actually got a tad ferklempt. Gerard Alessandrini is a gift to the New York stage, and I am so glad to welcome back my old friend Forbidden Broadway.

Wendy Caster
(front "orchestra," press ticket)

All Hallow's Eve

When a set of twins (Eve and Evan) press the wrong doorbell on Halloween, they are forced to fight for their lives against a manipulative, mean, and hungry witch. Can they save themselves? Can they help the creatures whose souls the witch holds captive?

All Hallow's Eve is silly. It should be shorter. The sound is murky. The musical numbers aren't great. But, the puppets! Oh, the puppets! They charm. They frighten. They amuse. They break your heart. Ranging in size from around a foot to maybe 15 feet high, they are all larger than life, yet all somehow real. (To say that a show is jaw-dropping is a cliché, obviously, but my jaw did drop, again and again.)

Tyler Bunch (Pumpkin Man);
Haley Jenkins (Eve);
Jennifer Barnhart (Witch)
Photo: Richard Termine

The bios of the creators, cast, and crew of All Hallow's Eve are, unsurprisingly, full of Avenue Q and Sesame Street credits. It takes the highest levels of skill to produce puppets that are this evocative, convincing, and fascinating. What is more surprising is that the show is Off-Off-Broadway--and inexpensive!. What a great opportunity to see the best of the best without paying an arm and a leg. (It's only running through November 2, so don't delay. For more information, click here.)

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FYI, the producers write, "Please know that this production invites the audience to follow our cast on a somewhat immersive experience.  The audience will be required to move throughout our beautiful space.  There will moments where chairs will be available to those who need them.  Please wear comfy clothes and leave your luggage at home." 

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• Book, lyrics, puppet design, and direction: Martin P. Robinson 
• Music: Paul Rudolph 
• Choreography: Kaitee Yaeko Tredway
• Cast: Jennifer Barnhart, Tyler Bunch, Aubrey Clinedinst, Austin Michael Costello, Cedwan Hooks, Haley Jenkins, Kathleen Kim, Marca Leigh, Spencer Lott, Kaitee Yaeko Tredway
• Scenic design: Christopher Swader and Justin Swader
• Lighting design: Alex Jainchill

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Wendy Caster
(press ticket)

Betrayal

On the surface, Betrayal is about entitled Londoners who meet for fancy lunches, during which they chat about art and literature and the best way to get to Torcello from Venice during summer holidays. They schedule games of squash, exchange niceties about their children and their loveless marriages, and engage in long-term affairs that they eventually throw over for other long-term affairs. On the surface, I do not give much of a rat's ass about people like this, who are hardly unique to London and who have always struck me as occupying a world utterly foreign to me in its material comforts, privileges, and casual amorality. But damn if the current Broadway revival, directed with devastating understatement by Jamie Lloyd, didn't burrow deep into my head. Spare, sparse, and exceedingly restrained in execution, the production gives us characters who have mastered the art of lying to themselves and one another, even as they fail to escape their stasis, disappointment, and sorrow.

Tom Hiddleston, Zawe Ashton and Charlie Cox.
Photo by Marc Brenner.

Loosely inspired by the seven-year affair Pinter had with the journalist Joan Bakewell during his unhappy marriage to the actress Vivien Merchant, Betrayal follows three characters backward in time, beginning two years after the dissolution of a seven-year tryst between gallerist Emma (Zawe Ashton) and literary agent Jerry (Charlie Cox), and ending just at the very beginning of it. Emma's husband, book publisher Robert (Tom Hiddleston), is Jerry's best friend and a frequent business associate. In a series of scenes that I suspect could easily feel like so many actors' exercises in the wrong hands, Pinter's characters betray one another in myriad ways as they keep up appearances year after year after year.

Pinter's style is pronounced and influential enough to have earned its own adjective; Pinteresque plays reflect the playwright's penchant for, among other things, terse dialogue sliced through with long pauses, lots of repetition, and vague, benign chatter that belies deeper, sometimes menacing subtext--hence, in Betrayal, so much more than lunch and squash and Torcello, even though these are the topics mentioned over and over and over again. On the page, Pinter doesn't offer much more to go on--his stage directions are as sparse as his dialogue--so I can imagine the temptation to fill in all his gaps with lots of actorly business and overwrought delivery in search of the subtext. Segments of dialogue certainly would seem to court some seriously explosive bluster, as when Robert informs Jerry (over lunch, natch) that he occasionally gives Emma "a good bashing" simply because he feels like it,  or when Emma confesses her affair to Robert, or when Jerry learns that Robert has known of the tryst for years, even as he's continued to schedule lunch dates and invite Jerry for games of squash.

But this production holds back in just about every way: the actors all lean into their restraint, even when you'd expect them not to. The stage, outfitted with a huge turntable that moves the company around in space, remains nearly bare, even as the walls close in and then open out again on the characters. And while every scene is a two-hander, the odd actor always remains onstage nonetheless, lurking in partial shadow: memory is selective, after all, and sometimes time and distance can numb the intensity of even the most intense passion, pleasure, or pain; nevertheless, the characters are, even despite physical absences, always deep in one another's heads.

Rather than making the three characters seem even more obtuse and distant, the silence and minimalism work to reveal layers of meaning in the text. The three characters depicted may be as well-practiced in how not to make a scene as they are in knowing how best to travel to a highly exclusive island resort, but they feel a whole lot realer and more nuanced for the choice. They may be worn amoral from lives of privilege, but this production does a beautiful job of demonstrating how they are also world-weary and searching and sad, no matter how sumptuous the lunches or beautiful the views from their exclusive holiday retreats.

The Decline and Fall of the Entire World as Seen Through the Eyes of Cole Porter

I bought my first Ben Bagley record, Irving Berlin Revisited, for 69 cents at a flea market in New Jersey a million years ago. Albums those days cost around four dollars, so it was quite a bargain, and it introduced me to Blossom Dearie, Bobby Short, and Bagley's unusual world view (world equaling the American songbook in this case). During his career, Bagley also revisited Oscar Hammerstein, Alan Jay Lerner, Arthur Schwartz, Vernon Duke, Harold Arlen, Kurt Weill, Rodgers and Hart, and many others. And he featured performers similarly fabulous: Dearie, Short, Ann Hampton Callaway, Margaret Whiting, Barbara Cook, Nell Carter, Chita Rivera, Kaye Ballard, Karen Morrow, and, again, many others. 

Lee Roy Reams, Diane Phelan, Danny Gardner, Lauren Molina
Photo: Ben Strothmann

Bagley also produced revues. One of them, The Decline and Fall of the Entire World as Seen Through the Eyes of Cole Porter, was perhaps the first to focus on one writer. (According to Wikipedia, Variety wrote that the show "helped pave the way for later Broadway revues like Ain't Misbehavin' and Sophisticated Ladies which surveyed the work of a single composer.")

The wonderful York Theatre Company has revived The Decline and Fall of the Entire World as Seen Through the Eyes of Cole Porter as part of its Mufti series, and it's a treat. 

Lauren Molina
Photo: Ben Strothmann

I have mixed feelings about revues. They can be overdirected, chirpy, and annoying. Each performer gets many songs to sing, so a mediocre singer can really hurt the evening. Some songwriters' songs start to sound repetitious when surveyed in this way.

The Decline and Fall ... Cole Porter has none of these problems. Pamela Hunt's direction is imaginative and spirited. Eric Svejcar's music direction is similarly lovely, and his piano playing is wonderful. Choreographer Trent Kidd's work, which shows a strong familiarity with old movie musicals, is witty and great fun. And the cast is strong: Lauren Molina (someone cast her in Funny Girl ASAP), charming song-and-dance man Danny Gardner, Diane Phelan, and long-time theatre veteran Lee Roy Reams.

Danny Gardner
Photo: Ben Strothmann

As for experiencing an evening of Cole Porter's work (mostly lesser known songs), I actually came out respecting Porter more than I did going in. In general, I find much of his work one-note. He establishes a joke structure and then works it to death, with no development. But the songs in The Decline and Fall ... Cole Porter cover a wide range of styles, and I liked a lot of them much more than his better known work.

A word about the Muftis: they are staged readings, but so much more than that. While the actors are more or less on book, it never gets in the way of the performances. The orchestra is one piano; I didn't put orchestra in quotes because the amazing pianists provide full-bodied musical accompaniment. 

Diane Phelan
Photo: Ben Strothmann

And the performers are not miked! Listening to superb singers unplugged is a delight and a luxury. (It's also nice that the singers don't have mikes hanging out of their hairlines.)

Lee Roy Reams
Photo: Ben Strothmann

On top of all of this, the shows are inexpensive, and matinees are followed by talkbacks that are unusually entertaining. In brief, sometimes the talkers-back dish. At one talkback years ago, the widow of the composer spoke of how glad she was when the original producer died. At this past Sunday's talkback, Reams told a story about Bagley that was, shall we say, risqué, and damned funny. Reams said that the tale was "not to leave this room," and I will honor his request. (Anyway, I couldn't do it justice.) But you do wish you were there.

The Decline and Fall ... Cole Porter runs through October 20th. Catch it if you can.

Wendy Caster
(fifth row, press ticket)

Tonya Pinkins' Truth and Reconciliation: Womyn Working it Out!

The cast; Photo by Katie Walenta

While much of Tonya Pinkins' Truth and Reconciliation: Womyn Working it Out, a collective of nine 10-minute plays and songs about women and oppression performed at The Tank (West 36th Street in Manhattan), from Oct. 3 to 6, was overwrought and simplistic, there are searing moments that showcase the cruelty women have faced and the strength required to find healing. 

The best vignettes, "Tierra de las Flores," written by Glory Kadigan and "Law 136" by Carmen Rivera recount historical tales of discrimination. "Tierra" tells the story of two women in Florida, set in the 1800's about 50 years after slaves were freed, and explores their uneasy navigation of class, abuse and vigilantism. 

"Law 136" recalls the covert Puerto Rican "voluntary" sterilization campaign, started in 1937 and funded by the U.S. Government, that by 1968 had operated on one-third of the female population. "The Operation" was marketed as a means of birth control and many underwent the tubal ligation procedure without knowing the irreversible consequences. "Law 136" frames the story around a first-time nurse who struggles between keeping her job and being ethical.

Pinkins--a Tony-Award winning actress (Jelly's Last Jam) and author--produced, directed and appeared in the production, as well as wrote the segment "Till Hell Freezes Over." Examining oppression--how women are both impacted by it and also hurt one another through it--is a worthy topic and Pinkins' take offers a variety of perspectives--from contemporary to historical that look at class, culture, prejudice and more--in one show. And that's admirable, but some of the stories need tightening to truly add to the discussion started by the #MeToo and #TimesUpNow movements. 

Traditional native chant sets an appropriate tone at the production's opening, reminiscent on how traditional history is often told again and again through music, but the subsequent musical interludes that connect the short works often feel amateurish with uneven dancing. The last song about the infamous "C" word, which provokes smiles as the women on stage take back the taboo with a punchy take, ultimately fails because the language is not nimble or provocative enough. This flaw permeates through the piece and removing the mawkishness and periodic overwriting would elevate the entire show as well as its songs. Perhaps in the show's next incarnation, the execution will be more taut and effective. 

Laughing Liberally: Make America Laugh Again

Laughing Liberally: Make America Laugh Again, an evening of left-leaning stand-up comedy, provides a bubble of shared beliefs, politically correct (and occasionally incorrect) commentary, incisive humor, and the comfort of being among friends (assuming, of course, that you're a liberal). With changing line-ups, it can be hit or miss; the night I saw it, the major hits were John Fugelsang (smooth and fast and surprising and witty) and The Reformed Whores (bawdy and silly and insightful and very sex-positive). Your odds of enjoying yourself will naturally rely on the combination of your tastes and the particular line-ups, but in general you can expect a fun, quick-moving evening.

The Reformed Whores

Here are the line-ups going forward:

Saturday 9/14

• Jeff Kreisler
• Dean Obeidallah
• Joyelle Johnson
• John Fugelsang
• Elayne Boosler

Tuesday, 9/17

• Natalia Reagan
• Gregory Joseph
• Mehran Khaghani
• John Fugelsang
• Janeane Garofalo

Wednesday, 9/18

• TBD
• Gregory Joseph
• Calvin Cato
• Scott Blakeman
• John Fugelsang

Thursday, 9/19

• Kevin Bartini
• Leah Bonnema
• Chuck Nice
• Liz Miele
• David Feldman
• John Fugelsang

Friday, 9/20

• John Fugelsang
• Judy Gold
• Elayne Boosler

Saturday 9/21

• TBD
• John Fugelsang
• Elayne Boosler

Wendy Caster

(press ticket, 4th row)

American Moor

When Keith Hamilton Cobb first took an acting class, he wanted to play Titania from A Midsummer Night's Dream. His acting teacher said no. Cobb continued to make creative suggestions; his teacher continued to say no. Finally, his teacher made recommendations. For some strange reason, all of them were "Moors." You see, Cobb is black, and his teacher was a jerk.

However, this is just one side of the racial limitations put onto to Cobb. On the flip side, in his professional career white directors would try to explain roles such as Othello to him. As Cobb says in his play American Moor, in which he also stars, they didn't trust him, a big black man, to perhaps have a fuller understanding of Othello, a big black man. Add to this that directors' suggestions often leaned toward the offensive, and it's easy to understand how and why Cobb could end up annoyed and tired and flat-out pissed.

Much of American Moor happens in Cobb's head during an audition to play Othello, with the director (Josh Tyson, in a very minor part) whitesplaining the lead character and Cobb pondering and dealing with the historical, professional, and personal ramifications of this, for him, representative life experience.

Cobb's descriptions of his life as a 6'4" black man and actor are hard-hitting. His performances of lines and speeches from Shakespeare are well-done. But I was ultimately uninvolved by American Moor. I'm not sure why, if it was the writing or the flow or that it was a Saturday matinee or that the show felt too performed. Some people in the audience were clearly touched and affected by Cobb and his show; about a dozen people gave it a standing ovation. But, for me--and I suspect for others in the audience--there was a disconnect.

Nevertheless, I am glad that the wonderful Red Bull Theatre broke from their usual centuries-old plays to produce this new show about how the classics live in today's people and how today's people live in the classics.

Wendy Caster
(press ticket; 7th row)

Art Times: Whose Opinion Matters?

My latest essay is up at Art Times:

The holy grail of New York theater is a rave review in the New York Times. It doesn’t guarantee success (and a pan doesn’t guarantee failure), but a rave certainly increases the odds of the show running. That’s why the paper is quoted all over posters and ads. “Brilliant,” says the New York Times. “Must-see” says the New York Times. “Ground-breaking,” says the New York Times. Many other cities also have professional critics whose reviews can affect the financial success of a show.

read more

Queen of Hearts

Ian Spring and LEXXE as Alice. Photo: Mark Shelby Perry

This burlesque journey down the rabbit hole transforms Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland into a circus-tinged, sexy romp. Theatre XIV’s Queen of Hearts reinterprets Alice’s introduction to Wonderland and all of its characters into lively tableaus, where performers pose and pivot — creating scenes full of beauty and eroticism that showcase conceiver/choreographer/director Austin McCormick’s inventiveness and sense of play.

It’s not for everybody — and it’s advertised as a show for over 21. While the mix of circus, opera, magic, dance and music is vastly entertaining, the show celebrates the art of the tease — with barely there, sometimes S&M-inspired costumes and a healthy appreciation for beautiful bodies highlighted by glitter, feathers, leather and whatever else will showcase their curves (Wardrobe Supervisor Lauren Brandt). Part of the show is enjoying the titillating movements of the firm, young performers on stage. Alice (LEXXE), in Theatre XIV’s version, is somewhat of a naughty girl, both minx and innocent.

The eclectic selection of music – from Neil Sedaka’s “Alice in Wonderland” to Perry Como’s “Dream on Little Dreamer” to Rossini’s “La Pastorella” adds to the fun. The tunes constantly surprise — what other version of the Alice story has the Mad Hatter (a captivating Marcy Richardson) singing Lady Gaga in it — and honors traditional burlesque, which often peppered shows with high-brow references, like McCormick’s use of opera and ballet, assuming a certain level of sophistication in its audience. 

Theatre XIV recently moved into the space at 383 Troutman St. in Bushwick, Brooklyn, launching their 2018-2019 season there, and the show uses the venue to heighten the audience’s experience: it's arranged more as a salon than a conventional theater, with even one of the numbers starting from a large champagne-shaped goblet on the bar before continuing to the stage. You can imbibe on cocktails like the Queen of Hearts (Champagne Brut, Blackberry Liqueur) or Painting the Roses Red (Rose Gin, Aperol, Lillet), among other drinks and snacks.

The running time at two hours and 30 minutes is a tad bit long (it has TWO intermissions … and it’s not even Wagner), but overall Queen of Hearts offers the joyful, entertaining respite of an old-fashioned cabaret – your troubles are left outside and momentarily disappear amid all the joyful frivolity.

Shows run Thursdays through Sundays and select Wednesdays (through Nov. 2). For exact times, visit https://web.ovationtix.com/trs/cal/34810 and for more info see http://CompanyXIV.com. Tickets run from $85-$155, with VIP couches for two starting at $325.

View the Queen of Hearts 30-second promo video trailer at https://youtu.be/PpYJwaRyyIo

A Fidler afn Dakh (Fiddler on the Roof in Yiddish)

It took me a very long time to see A Fidler afn Dakh (Fiddler on the Roof in Yiddish)--more on that in a minute--but I'm glad I pushed myself to go, because it's glorious. In slowing down the musical's often frenetic pace, cutting back on a lot of the usual schtik, and translating the dialogue into the language Tevye and his community would have spoken had they actually existed, the production puts new emphasis on collective Jewish life in the Russian shtetl. Still as warm, lovely, and ultimately heartbreaking as always, the show also feels newly urgent--and ended up feeding me in ways I hadn't realized I'd been quite so hungry for. 

Any good production of Fiddler needs a strong center, and Stephen Skybell delivers, even as he is also the most emotionally muted, physically small Tevye I've ever seen: there's not a trace of Zero Mostel's bluster or swagger to be found here. Gone too are the broad gestures, stagey asides, bits of clowning, bellowed dialogue. The same applies to all the musical's most comic characters: Jennifer Babiak's Golde is a levelheaded, calm and rather graceful balabusta who utterly lacks the harried exasperation and exceedingly short temper her character almost always seems to invite. The village rabbi is still a doddering, senile old man, but Adam B. Shapiro infuses him with enough grounded dignity and world-weariness that he is no longer a walking punchline. And as the always wonderful Jackie Hoffman has interpreted her, Yente is still a gossipy motormouth with a severely limited grasp of social boundaries, but she's also lonely, vulnerable, and concerned for her own livelihood in the face of political and cultural change.

These flesh-and-blood depictions result in a more moving (if also more painful) finale, in which Anatevka's residents are driven from what has been their home for generations on three days' notice. No wonder, then, that while the rabbi and Yente are still respectively as foggy and logorrheic as they always have been, there's nevertheless nothing cute or diverting about them in their final scenes; Hoffman, in particular, delivers Yente's last lines in a voice gritty with exhaustion, worry, and sorrow.

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)

Summer Shorts: Series A

In Series A, the first part of Summer Shorts at 59E59, all three plays circle around death. This is a lot for a 90-minute evening.

The first show, Interior, is the most fully realized of the three. Two men stand outside a house, gathering their strength to give the people inside terrible news. Gracefully if somewhat repetitively written by Nick Payne, Interior is a sad and hard-hitting slice of life, well-acted by Bill Buell and Jordan Bellow.

Jordan Bellow, Bill Buell
Interior
Photo: Carol Rosegg

The Bridge Play by Danielle Trzcinski lives in the gray area between a skit and a play, with a simple plot: a man is getting ready to jump off a bridge and a younger man starts talking to him. The play moves along nicely and has some funny moments, but since we know that the guy isn't going to jump, the suspense is minimal. The play does offer two decent character studies, and James P. Rees and Christopher Dylan White are both quite good.

James P. Rees, Christopher Dylan White
The Bridge Play
Photo: Carol Rosegg

Here I Lie consists of two interlocking monologues that don't interlock; they just kind of interrupt each other. The characters are a young women and man (Libe Barer and Robbie Tann, both excellent) with difficult problems that aren't quite what they seem. The two stories sort of relate, but not enough to justify the constant momentum interruptions. I would have much preferred to see the monologues as standalone pieces; the writing by Courtney Baron is fluid and the characters are compelling. They just keep getting in each other's way.

Libe Barer, Robbie Tann
Here I Lie
Photo: Carole Rosegg

While none of the three plays is bad, as an evening, Series A lacks oomph. The sum of the parts is a tad smaller than the whole.

Wendy Caster
(press ticket, third row)

Broadway Bounty Hunter

Ya gotta love Annie Golden. She has a sweetness to her, with a wild voice and a slightly goofy vibe. For a creative team to decide to shape a musical around her--even going so far as to name the main character "Annie Golden"--is a no-brainer, particularly now that Golden is famous outside of theatre from her stint on Orange Is the New Black. 

Golden, Green
Photo: Matthew Murphy

Broadway Bounty Hunter is the story of a "woman of a certain age" who has lost her husband and seems to be losing her career. She feels terribly unappreciated and worries about her future, telling her woes to the photo she keeps of her beloved late spouse. The path in front of her seems dire, at best.

And then Annie is recruited to be a bounty hunter. After intense training, she is sent with a reluctant partner to South America to bring back the drug lord Mac Roundtree. Unsurprisingly, Annie and the partner grow to like each other.

Every part of Broadway Bounty Hunter plays with-satirizes-honors-relies on '80s movie styles or cliché tropes or other musical satires or union organizing (really) or the usefulness of acting skills in real-life situations. The energetic cast works their butts off as the show roller-coasters from event to event, song to song, dance to dance, and joke to joke. It is a noisy, in-your-face, overdone, silly evening. And if you like that sort of thing, you might well love it.

I sometimes like that sort of thing, and I had mixed feelings. The noisiness became abrasive; the stage was too small; the chorus was too small; many lyrics were lost when more than one person was singing; the almost-constant dancing lacked creativity and polish; the cast was uneven; the score was uneven; Golden's big second act number was bland; the show was too long; and, although I hate to say this, Golden seemed harried by the frenetic pace and wasn't as good as she usually is. Oh, and the seats at the theatre offer neither comfort nor decent sight lines.

The strengths: some great jokes; some nice songs; Alan H. Green as Annie's reluctant partner; Brad Oscar as Mac Roundtree; Emily Borromeo as the martial arts master who recruits Annie; Annie Golden's singing and presence; the generally good-hearted, enthusiastic vibe.

To mix metaphors, Broadway Bounty Hunter is a mixed bag, but it may be your cup of tea.

Wendy Caster
(8th row, press ticket)

Broadway Bounty Hunter video.

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)

Ladyship

Ladyship, the new show by twins Laura Good and Linda Good, exemplifies how difficult it is to write a good musical. There is so much here to like: some beautiful songs, an original story, and a clear desire to write something that matters.

The story of young women sent from London to Australia for seven years in the late 18th century as penalty for their (often small) crimes, Ladyship largely takes place during the long, long journey. The two main characters are the teen aged sisters Alice and Mary, who stole because they were hungry. Also on the ship are Lady Jane, brought low after her husband went through her money; Kitty, painfully young, without family, and innocent of the crime for which she was sentenced; the street-smart Abigail; and Mrs. Pickering, heartbroken because she didn't even get to say goodbye to her children. The four men we see on board are the captain, who is kind but turns away from many injustices; Finn, a sweet, mixed-race sailor; Zeke Cropper, a nasty, misogynistic drunk; and Lieutenant Adams, who hopes to have sex with a different woman each night.

This story is a lot to take on, and it is important that the show have a clear through-line. Is it about the injustice of the women's punishment? Yes, but. Is it about the relationship of the sisters? Yes, but. Is it about the generally horrible treatment of women in the 18th century? Yes, but. Is it about the rottenness of  the rich and men, and particularly rich men? Yes, but. Is it about women banding together to help each other? Yes, but. Is it about being brave and making the best of whatever life hands you? Yes, but.

There's nothing wrong with a show taking on a variety of issues and story lines, but they have to mesh effectively, and in Ladyship, they don't. The Goods use the "making the best of what life hands you" theme to avoid dealing with the true reality of the other topics. For example, not a single female character is raped. On one hand, that's fine with me; I was glad not to have to go through that scene. On the other hand, that's a cop out. Many of the women would have been raped. A lot. Nor do any of the women die. In fact, the show is so unwilling to depict reality that it has Kitty sing about the stars she can see through a grill from the orlop deck. The orlop deck is below the waterline! There are no grills there, no stars, no light. The Goods don't want to face that level of darkness.

Does it make sense to try to address difficult topics when you're not willing to go to difficult places? The best serious musicals, e.g., Sweeney Todd; Caroline, or Change, are actually painful to watch. The pain is mitigated by the art, but the pain is also real. By avoiding that pain, Ladyship becomes dishonest.

Also, on a more micro level, the Goods use half rhymes, sort of rhymes, not-even-close rhymes. Away does not rhyme with safe, no matter how many times they are repeated. The songs thereby lose the clarity that comes from true rhymes. Also, many of the songs end lamely, sort of petering out.

The Goods have much to be grateful for in this NYMF production of Ladyship. The cast is strong, with some gorgeous voices: Maddie Shea Baldwin, Jennifer Blood, Jordon Bolden, Caitlin Cohn, Noelle Hogan, Justin R.G. Holcomb, Lisa Karlin, Brandi Knox, Quentin Oliver Lee, and Trevor St. John-Gilbert. The lighting design (Sam Gordon) is clear, clean, and lovely. The scenery (David Goldstein), costumes (Whitney Locher) and sound (Patrick Calhoun) are all effective.

I hope that the Goods continue to write musicals (perhaps with an experienced book writer who can provide some perspective and theatre-savvy). There is enough that is good in Ladyship to want to see more of their work.

Wendy Caster
(fifth row, center)

Illuminati Lizards From Outer Space

It's hard to know what to write about Illuminati Lizards From Outer Space since I was unable to hear ~70% of the lyrics (100% if more than one person was singing). I don't know if it was where I was sitting (house right, fifth row, near a speaker that was blasting the musicians much louder than the singers) or bad sound design in general, but the experience was downright dreadful. For a campy show like Illuminati Lizards From Outer Space, lyrics are all-important, and, who knows, they might have been brilliant. I believe I caught a rhyme of free and happy that required a painfully unnatural emphasis on the last syllable of happy, so I doubt the lyrics actually were that great, but, again, I just don't know.

The basic plot, such as it is: A beauty queen is denied her crown because she is an "illegal alien" from Canada (which I think isn't a country in the land of Illuminati Lizards). The Illuminati lizards, who, I think, are supposed to destroy earth, or something, believe she's one of them since they are actual aliens. And stuff happens.

I think Illuminati Lizards is supposed to be a goodhearted, campy, political satire, but it comes across as though a bunch of reasonably talented people threw a pile of ideas against the wall and kept what stuck. And then they swept up the losing ideas and used them anyway.

I loved the video design by Lisa Renkel and Wayne Bryant. It stands in for scenery and periodically provides an excellent head lizard speaking from outer space (if only I could have understood more of what he was saying!).

The cast seemed pretty good, to the extent I could tell, and I was blown away by Brian Charles Rooney's huge voice. I couldn't decide if I would rather hear him sing Jim Steinman songs or opera, but I'd be glad to try either.

The one lyric that did stay with me was "Illuminati lizards from outer space. Illuminati lizards from outer space. Illuminati lizards from outer space. Illuminati lizards from outer space. Illuminati lizards from outer space.  Illuminati lizards from outer space. Illuminati lizards from outer space. Illuminati lizards from outer space." It rang in my head for hours after the show. I was grateful, though--it knocked out the "Hard-Knock Life" ear worm I had been enduring for days.

My apologies to everyone who worked on Illuminati Lizards From Outer Space. I wish I had been able to hear enough to provide a more useful review.

Wendy Caster
(press ticket, 5th row, far audience right)

The Bachelor Girls

Kristen Egenes, Laura Hall, Kathleen Culler, Kelly Berman, Gia Mongell, Timmy Hays, Emma Vielbig, Lucy Anders, Brittany Rodin, Emily Kersey, Mandy McDonell. Photo: Shoshana Medney

The Bachelor Girls (book, music and lyrics by Caroline Wigmore and Jen Green) is one of nine theatrical works (eight shows and a high school showcase), created by women, featured in the fourth annual She NYC Arts Summer Theater Festival at The Connelly Theater on June 28 and 29, and the only musical. While the piece’s plot and characters progress unevenly at times, the show features standout performances and often a witty score.

The premise intrigues: three British friends graduate from a woman’s college in 1919, just as the concept of the ‘modern girl’ is developing. Because of World War I — and the lives lost — the women are told that only 1 in 10 will get married. The graduates venture to London: Molly (Kelly Berman) takes care of her Aunt Smythe (Tracy Bidleman) while waiting to wed, Gertie (Lucy Anders) fights for women’s rights and Cecily (Lael Van Keuren) works as a nanny.

The title comes from an actual book published in 1916, The Bachelor Girl’s Guide to Everything by Agnes M. Miall, which a teacher gifts to the co-eds at the show’s beginning. This world of flappers where women want careers, equal voting rights and pay equity offers a rich forum for heroic battles and character development. Unfortunately, the book still needs work as plotlines propel forward almost capriciously — so the show never gels like it could. In one scene, for instance, Molly and Gertie rescue Cecily from a graveyard, and it is never apparent how they even knew she was there. Such gaps pepper the musical and hinder character development, making the insights and growth the girls gather often unbelievable.

More thought-out is the role of Aunt Smythe, and Bidleman (Mrs. Harcourt in the national/international tour Anything Goes) shines in the best musical number of the show, "Bright Young Thing" — a showy romp worthy of Broadway at its best. Also good is Van Keuren (Broadway’s Sister Act) who displays a sweet earnestness in her yearning for romance and her difficulty in finding a place in the world.

In general, the 1920s style music and dance enlivens The Bachelor Girls. The choreography (Heather Douglas) is high-spirited and fun. The Bachelorette trio (Caitlyn Calfas, Maria Reginaldi and Stephanie Maloney), an Andrews Sisters type singing group, acts as a scatting/jazzy Greek chorus throughout the show — providing a nice addition to the drama unfolding on stage. Too bad their role isn’t more explanatory though — often they just provide background music rather than helping move the story forward. The show's second song, "Shimmy & Shake," touting the benefits of those activities set the high-stepping tone for the show.

The She NYC Arts Summer Theater Festival is a festival that seeks to develop full-length plays, musicals, and adaptations by women writers. Through an open submissions process, She NYC’s fosters up-and-coming talent by mentoring writers in how to produce their work. The yearly festival is in New York (SheNYCArts.org) and Los Angeles (see www.SheLAArts.org). The Bachelor Girls was also produced by British Youth Music Theatre in 2015. (Press ticket)