Five in the Morning

Last week, Rotozaza's Doublethink showed us what happens when guest performers attempt to follow directions; this week's Five in the Morning shows us what happens when real actors attempt to be guest performers attempting to follow directions. Ant Hampton's direction is just as clever here as it was last week, and the stark white floor and curtains of the stage provide a blank slate for the character-building thrust of the show. As the three "hapless" visitors to Aquaworld, Silvia Mercuriali, Greg McLaren, and Melanie Wilson are doing great theatrical work, and while their results aren't as surprising (or thereby engrossing) as Doublethink, it's curious to observe how the same struggles ("Build a human tower") and directions ("Chew your lip" or "Die") are handled by "professionals" (who are in turn pretending to be amateurs). The neat effect is that each actor is assigned a specific voice (their own, I believe, though it's distorted at first): they only do something when they are told to do it. A scene is created by various commands overlapping, and the beauty is in watching the chaos of individual actors coalesce into the kind of structure formed by going so far past disorganization that the randomness comes full circle and is specific again.

Prometheus Bound

Photo/Richard Termine

Not only wasn't I blown away by this show, but I wasn't blown away by David Oyelowo's Prometheus either. I found the chains to be more impressive than him (to some degree the point, since they hold him firm), but honestly, beyond that imposing effect, the play has little weight, substance, or steel. It doesn't help, either, that the show is plagued with repetitious rhetoric: whether it's a Greek chorus of birds come to visit, or the maddened Io, or even the friendly Oceanus, Prometheus speaks the same to them all, with very little variation in his tactics (which got him chained to a rock in the first place). Stubborness may be an honest appraisal of Prometheus, but it's hard to watch for 90 minutes. I don't fault James Kerr's direction or translation of the show, but he ought to have noticed that the script was a little lacking: it's notable that the best moments of Prometheus Bound come when there is no text, simply the silent struggle between man and chain. Fiddle with the lighting all you want, add wave-crashing music in the background, and that's still going to be the most important part of the play: what the Greeks lack in character, they make up for in suffering.

Also blogged by: [Patrick] [David]

Losing Something

Losing Something is dressed up in so much fancy technology and highbrow text that confusion is beside the point. Everything is subsumed by the philosophy, which in turn is simply a metaphor for the play's title and the unnamed protagonist's struggle. However, Kevin Cunningham's play isn't meant to be a passionate journey of self-realization or triumph, nor does performer Aldo Perez mean for his actions to be heroic. The show operates as a sexed-up fugue, an anti-passion play, and while I love the visual aspect (the projected images are elegiac), I hate settling on the thought that the entire work is simply a metaphor for the diassocative but consensual reality discussed so heavy-handedly in the play.

[Read on]

Oliver Twist

****
John Jay College

So far this is my favorite scenic design of the year. This hollow, dirty, smoke-filled box was the perfect picture frame for this fascinating Brechtian re-telling of the classic Dickens novel. This tightly directed, rhythmic version almost felt like a musical and I wouldn't have been phased at all had Nancy busted out with "As Long As He Needs Me". Perfomed by an excellent troupe of soot-smeared actors, this production was slick, energetic, very memorable and I highly recommend checking it out.

Also blogged by: [Patrick] [Christopher]

Orestes 2.0

I don't much care for the original Orestes, and this sexed up reboot hasn't really been given the upgrade it needs by Charles L. Mee. This is the type of scattered theater that confuses the mainstream audience about off-Broadway, and although Jose Zayas has found some nice ways of modernizing classical movements (much more violent and visceral here, which makes sense for the Immediate Theater Company), the technical production is still sloppy. Bad night or no, I found much of this show to be a temper tantrum thrown by a confused and confusing cast. The multiple levels never gelled for me, and if that was the point, I can only ask why that was the point. Still: the trial scene is an interesting bit of staging, and the table-spinning, chest-thumping climax has a wicked momentum (set to techno music) that does wonders to liven otherwise dead text, so if you're head over heels for hodgepodge, Orestes 2.0 might be for you.

[Read on]

Go see Neal Medlyn

Something out of control and completely effed up is about to happen and I want you to know about it!

Neal Medlyn's Coming In The Air Tonight

according to his website it features "Phil Collins music and tons of blood!"

Having seen a number of Mr. Medlyn's previous violent comedic outbursts (including Neal Medlyn Will Drink Poison Until He Dies!) I can honestly say that I have never seen a performer who is quite so messy, feral and unbelievably hysterical.

This is really something you should check out if you need a break from well behaved, polite theater.

It's Fridays in April, 7:30pm at Galapagos in Brooklyn (tix). I will be attending on April 13th because his guest star will be the Varsity Interpretive Dance Squad, another comic phenomenon I am currently obsessed with.

xodb