I.E., In Other Words

Somewhat of a cross between the ironic metadrama of Urinetown and the over-the-top mood of Essential Self-Defense, Mark Greenfield's comedy, I.E., In Other Words speaks for itself. In fact, it does so literally, marking its unique language by often announcing what its doing, a postmodern trend that would be annoying if it weren't so cute and infectious at The Flea, performed in an epic ham style by The Bats, the young resident company there. Kip Fagan does an excellent job of directing fourteen actors (playing thirty-three parts) in ninety minutes, all while conveying the story in a more-or-less consistently funny fashion (whatever isn't funny is soon over and done with). Using a new narrative style to tell an old-fashioned story is a winning combination almost every time, i.e., you should check this surreal playsical out.

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Wonderland: One-Act Festival

I hate to compare Wonderland, a one-act festival at Theater Row, to anything so crude as reality TV, but it reminds me a lot of the first week of movies being premiered on FOX's On The Lot. Substitute theater for film (call it Standing Room Only) and leave the judges off-camera, and you've distilled the popular elimination format of TV for off-off-Broadway, a battle of the fringe. The work is what you'd expect: it's crammed, sometimes crude, and certainly rushed from a technical standpoint. But that just makes the performances and the plays all the more surprising: diamonds in the coal bin seemed to be a dime a dozen when I went, and three of the four one-acts I saw were engaging enough to make me want to see more. From heightened language in one play to an all-out battle of personal put-downs in another, or domestic violence stuck in a poetic frame alongside brothers making peace on their father's deathbed, these plays found ways to work around cliche to do good work, and while they're far from perfect, they're getting there.

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Fate's Imagination

The armchair psychologist in me was fairly irritated halfway through this new unruly play, which has some good moments of keen interpersonal observation but too many others where the characters' actions simply don't pass the believability sniff test. Playwright David Randall Cook has a good ear for dialogue and a solid dramatist's sense of how to put a kink in a story, but he piles on too many twists in this play at the expense of credibility, before finally overreaching for political statement. Cook is promising - he's especially good at rendering the hollow rhetorical speeches for the character of the female Presidential candidate (played deliciously by Donna Mitchell) - and the play is lively and moves at a clip, so it's never dull. The play doesn't lack imagination. Discipline, perhaps.

Fate's Imagination

***
Gotham Stage Company

photo: Monique Carboni

Crisp, fresh-out-of-the-wrapper new play alert! With a journalist son wanting to make a difference in the (that) war and a liberal senator mom who is running for president and actually has a good chance (yeah, her) we got some pretty timely subject matter here. Mixing politics with familial relationships with romance, this play endeavours to provide an intriguing portrait of a trio of struggling with all the new millennium has to offer them. It pretty much succeeds, especially with the help of some fun plot twists offered up by playwright, Randall David Cook. Thumbs up!

A Kiss From Alexander

photo: Joe Oppedisano

As Alexander The Great, who is returned to Earth incognito to "correct" a tacky gay musical about his life, Craig Ramsay radiates an endearing innocence. His "fish out of water" bits, as he interacts with the queeny chorus boys, are this musical's best moments. But not much else is funny, and that's especially true of an appalling subplot which ends "happily" when an obnoxious, abusive drama queen finally accepts the overtures of a sweet, adoring fanboy when it's learned that the nerdy fan is a millionaire. What is THAT about?

The Eaten Heart

Another aesthetic must-see, The Eaten Heart is the kind of show that puts other directors to shame. In the mode of the epic "Decameron," The Debate Society has taken a series of lives in miniature, and then revealed them to us--slowly, subtly, seductively--in a world of motels and wolves, charming pizza-boys who cannonball in their off-hours, sudden thunderstorms and power outages, and televisions that won't turn off. Everything about this show works, from the compelling power of silence to the parallel motions of strangers who are just a thin skin of a wall apart. Hannah Bos and Paul Thureen play all the parts, which means they change costumes as fast as they change characters, but they're as technically slick as they are theatrically solid, and it's rare to see such complimentary performances working toward Oliver Butler's overarching truth. Dare I say flawless? I do.

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