American Fiesta

**1/2

Vineyard

This was an earnest one man autobiographical play about a gay man, his lover, his conservative parents, and his growing vintage Fiesta pottery collection. Though excellent director, Mark Brokaw, has attempted to make this production as theatrical as possible with projections, rolling tables, and handsome lights/scenery, better-writer-than-actor, Steven Tomlinson's many characters sounded too similar to one another and his delivery sounded more like a lecture than a performance.

BE by Mayumana

**1/2
Union Square Theatre

This bucket-pounding prototypical "special theatrical event!" throbbed with energy, sweat and impeccable timing. Unfortunately if you're looking for personality you're not gonna find it here. Generically international (South American? European? Middle Eastern? Sure. What's the diff?), this was a progression of scenes where sexy people make fast, fun, noises with different objects. If you're into that, as much of audience seemed to be-especially the kiddos, they're quite wonderful at it, but for anyone looking for a message beyond "We're exotic and we want to make fun rhythms for you!", then this is not your show.

Accomplice: New York

Gilligan's got nothing on this three-hour tour. Accomplice: New York destroys the fourth wall as it makes Manhattan the stage, those crazy people on the street its players, and you -- well, you're the starring role. No pressure, it's not a competition, though there are some Amazing Race-type detours and some slight mental ambidexterity is required. But at the same time, you're not alone: you'll most likely be traveling with seven new accomplices as you learn that theater has the ability to not just move you (emotionally), but to quite literally take you for a ride the old fashioned way. Crime has never paid off so well before, and considering that your ticket comes with a few drinks and a nice antipasto along the way, not to mention a newfound respect for the south side of Manhattan and the improvisational talents of its actors . . . it's a price worth paying.

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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.