Freed

Photo: John Quilty

Playwright Charles Smith faces three challenges in telling the story of John Newton Templeton, the first African-American to attend college in the Midwest, in the 1820s. First, bio-plays are difficult to pull off, as most people's lives don't fit a dramatic arc. Second, idea plays can end up pompous and/or dull. Third, Templeton's life was epic, but theatrical economics require plays to have small casts. Smith mostly overcomes these constraints by choosing an extremely dramatic section of Templeton's life and by giving each of the other two characters--a minister and his wife who take Templeton in--believably different points of view. Despite Smith's skill, however, the play cries out for other characters. Showing Templeton interacting with his classmates and perhaps with friends or a girlfriend would give the play a chance to breathe--and would take the pressure off the other two characters to represent Templeton's whole world. Also, the first act drags. However, the characters are affecting, the discussions are compelling, Smith's writing is compassionate, and Templeton's story horrifies, fascinates, breaks your heart, and inspires, sometimes simultaneously. Sheldon Best as Templeton gives a performance of great delicacy.

The Broadway Musicals 1990-2010

Celebrating the tenth anniversary of the Broadway by the Year series, The Broadway Musicals 1990-2010 featured at least one song from each year in its title. It's obvious to second-guess the choices, but I feel compelled to do so: two songs by Frank Wildhorn and two songs by Andrew Lloyd Weber, but only one by Stephen Sondheim? I must protest! On the other hand, Kendrick Jones performed a tribute to tap dancers past (based on the tribute in Bring in Da Noise, Bring in Da Funk), and any show that features Kendrick Jones is worth seeing. All in all, however, I was not blown away by the evening.

Sondheim on Sondheim

photo: Richard Termine

I love the music of Stephen Sondheim. I hate the revue format. Does that mean that Sondheim on Sondheim, James Lapine's multimedia amalgamation of some of the composer's greatest works, narrated by the man himself via videotape, would strike some healthy balance? Yes. No. Maybe. The production itself offers a handful of brilliant performers (among them Barbara Cook, one of the greatest living Sondheim interpreters) singing the master's songs with aplomb. Can you really complain about Ms Cook's delicate rendition of "Beautiful" from Sunday in the Park with George, or Vanessa Williams' fantastic and reading of "Ah, but Underneath" ? Or Euan Morton and Leslie Kritzer making a great case as to why they should be the only choices for Mary and Charley if and when Merrily We Roll Along is revived? Sadly, the main problem is the composer himself: The interviews with Sondheim don't really illuminate anything about the material, and most of the time you wish he'd shut up and let the music speak for itself. Which, of course, it does.

Marathon 2010: Series A

The one-acts in the The Ensemble Studio Theatre Marathon 2010: Series A range from interestingly unsuccessful to quite excellent. Act one begins with Safe, written by Ben Rosenthal and directed by Carolyn Cantor, which explores the effects of loss on a young man and his step-father. While some of the ideas and dialogue are compelling, Safe exists awkwardly between comedy and tragedy, and it doesn't quite acknowledge how seriously damaged its characters are. In Wild Terrain, written by Adam Kraar and directed by Richmond Hoxie, an older couple visit an outdoor art installation. It soon becomes clear that the wife is struggling with dementia. The show rambles a bit, but it is sensitive and touching. And the performers--the always wonderful Marcia Jean Kurtz, Jack Davidson, and Catherine Curtin--acquit themselves admirably. Matthew and the Pastor's Wife, written by Robert Askins and directed by John Giampietro, takes an entertainingly bizarre look at the lengths one person will go to to serve God.

Act two begins with Turnabout, written by Daniel Reitz, directed by Moritz von Stuelpnagel, and featuring excellent performances by Lou Liberatore and Haskell King. Turnabout tells the story of a desperate man begging an ex-lover for help--and the ex-lover's revenge. The show takes too long to get started; in fact, the entire first scene could be jettisoned at little cost and with much gain. However, once the second scene begins--with some, uh, startling costumes--Turnabout settles into a bittersweet examination of gratitude and acceptance. Where the Children Are, written by Amy Fox and directed by Abigail Zealey Bess, presents five characters who have relatives in the military in Iraq. Largely using monologues, and with very little blocking, the play manages to be much more than the sum of its (exceptional) parts. Somehow, Fox, Bess, and the solid cast let us see--and feel--the emotional wounds that war inflicts on soldiers and their loved ones. All in all, Series A deserves an A.

Before Your Very Eyes

Before Your Very Eyes was written and directed by Edward Elefterion. The director part of him did no favors to the playwright part, and the playwright did no favors to the director--and neither was of any help to the actors. The play starts on September 11, 2001. First we hear in the dark a difficult-to-understand phone message, then the lights come up on two women over-indicating shock and horror. It gradually becomes clear that Kate is listening to a message from Lakshmi's husband for Lakshmi, who is too scared to listen herself. One of their husbands comes home; one doesn't. The rest of the play examines the ways that 9/11 haunted and changed the lives of the people who were there, as well as their loved ones. Unfortunately, Before Your Very Eyes chooses bombast over dialogue, emoting over acting, stick figures over well-developed characters, and half-assed conspiracy theories over reasonable debate.

Honoring Patrick

In Patrick's obituary in the Times, it says that donations in memory of Patrick may be made at tdf. If you'd interested, here's the link for memorial gifts.