Alcestis

photo: Kah Leong Poon

Ted Hughes' adaptation of Euripides' Alcestis, currently being New York-premiered by Handcart Ensemble, is easily accessible even for audiences unacquainted with the genre of Greek tragedy. Hughes' version, published posthumously in 1999, tends to modern-day language and emphasizes the hopefulness in the ancient story, while still rendering its darkness of seemingly inconsolable grief. Handcart's solid, thoughtful production succeeds far more often than it fails: there are simple and effective directorial choices, such as using a hanging panel of sheer red fabric to depict the Underworld, and having the chorus create a dramatic soundscape (that functions something like underscoring) when appropriate. Regretably, the ensemble is not entirely of a piece, with some of the actors lacking the needed weight. One scene which should be especially grave - the confrontation between King Admetos and his father, who refused to die in his son's place to satisfy the gods - completely misses the mark but I'm mystified as to why. The minor lapse is easily forgotten by the time we reach the play's emotionally powerful final scenes, with Ron Bopst rendering the King's sorrow, honor, and finally joy with striking simplicity, and David D'Agostini making a strong, memorably warm Heracles.

Seven Brides For Seven Brothers

***1/2

Papermill Playhouse

So my plan was to do the lotto for A Chorus Line and if that didn't work out then I already had tix for Boys Just Wanna Have Fun at Actor's Playhouse. But quite randomly at the last minute, as often is the case when one is a ticket-sniffing truffle-hog, I found myself on a train to Milburn, NJ to check out Seven Brides For Seven Brothers. Though I feel an ideal production of this inherently erotic musical (young, handsome, horny mountain men woo snowbound girls they've kidnapped (hot!)) would be a lot more sexy and lusty than presented here, a hokey naive charm abounded and kept a stupid smile on my face from start to finish. Comic bits were executed with all the subtlety of a children's show but this over-the-top energy fueled the insanely energetic songs and dances. With all these movies turned musicals with musical numbers jammed into scenes where they often don't fit, it was nice to see a show where the book relied on the songs and dances so joyously presented here. (YES, 7 for 7 was a movie first too but at least was a musical in its original cinematic incarnation). I left humming a number of catchy tunes and was armed with catalogue of reasons as to why I should donate money to the Papermill Playhouse fund offered up to us by pre AND post curtain speeches- the best reason was what happened in between them.

Legally Blonde

photo: Joan Marcus

The musical version of Legally Blonde is like one of those top-heavy cupcakes at Junior's: half a pound of frosting on three ounces of cake. Unlike the movie (which I found barely tolerable) it should come with a health warning: unfit for consumption by heterosexual males. This girliest tourist attraction ever to open on Broadway (if you don't count the show at American Girl Place) peaks with its opening number - there isn't a single decent song in the score after that - but the show is so relentlessly energetic and skillfully staged that it never lags, and that (and its girl-power message) is enough to make it a smash with the tween girls who've outgrown the Disney shows and are so over Wicked by now. For the rest of us, the supporting cast is an embarrassment of riches: Christian Borle, Kate Shindle, Michael Rupert, Orfeh, Andy Karl, and - stealing all focus whenever she's on stage as one-third of the main character's Greek Chorus - the superfabulous Leslie Kritzer.

Radio Golf

photo: Carol Rosegg

What a surprise: the late August Wilson's last play is also one of his most accessible and brisk, a sharply observed, entertaining drama that pointedly questions the price of African-American success by assimilation. Its story, of a mayoral candidate who becomes increasingly uneasy with what it takes to push through a neigborhood redevelopment plan, is set ten years ago, but its themes and its keen social observations are immediate and relevant: the audience I saw it with was very much engaged and vocal, clearly taking sides in the play's climactic showdown. The play is slick and focused in a way that other Wilson plays are not (I could easily see this play reaching an audience that hasn't warmed before to his plays) and it's less prosey and dense, but that is unquestionably by design and part of the point considering the themes. It isn't quintessential Wilson, but it's a tight, swiftly intelligent play (directed here with snap and punch by Kenny Leon) that bears his unmistakable mark nonetheless. Four of the five in the cast are excellent at this point (a week into previews) and the one tentative performance is likely to fit right in once the play officially opens. It's hard for me to imagine that this will not be among the four nominees for Best Play at this year's Tonys.

A Guy Adrift In The Universe

photo: Evan Purcell

This clever high-concept comedy (by Larry Kunofsky, a writer new to me) tracks the full life cycle of A Guy from birth to death....in 90 minutes. He springs from the womb fully articulate - think Stuey from Family Guy - and at revolving-door speed is mothered, fathered, befriended, schooled, dated, employed, and so on. The humor is in the shorthand: an entire relationship might be nutshelled into one precise, philosophically astute exchange that captures something deeply truthful and funny. It's a very delicate conceit that requires a distinct performance style to keep it moving, and luckily this dynamic four-person cast (Cory Grant as A Guy, with a couple of dozen other roles divided among Sutton Crawford, Corey Patrick, and Zarah Kravitz) is tuned right in to the play's vibe. Together, they sound all the play's high and low notes and keep A Guy Adrift... confidently on course.

Also blogged by: [Aaron]

WildBard: Twelfe Night

After seeing this rowdy and energetic production of Twelfe Night, the question I have is: are modern audiences ready for truly classic Shakespeare? We see heavily studied and processed performances, the result of careful studies of the text and based on years of experience and formal training. What WildBard does is to go back to the way Shakespeare's troupe was forced to act: ten different shows a week. According to WildBard, there wasn't enough time to learn lines, so they relied on miniature cue-cards and a stage prompter to get through the show. Of course, in Shakespeare's time, the language didn't need study -- as performed today, WildBard brings us full-body Shakespeare, played like an Olympic sport and filled with abrupt interpretations and unique line readings, fresh every night (just like the rotating cast).

[Read on]