Number 47: April 2005 Edition
by Carl F. Gauze
Here’s a new thing to worry about – all your data on CD’s is rotting away, and you don’t even know it. I recently went back to dig out some songs I ripped back in Ought One, and the disk was bad. So were quite few others, including one I made last summer. Yeah, I checked them originally, and they look good, but the files are unreadable. Check your archives, they might be fading away. Moral – make multiple copies in multiple formats, and never destroy source material.
(F)IVES
By David Ives
Directed by Jay Hopkins
Jester Theater Company
Studio Theater, Orlando, FL
They billed this as “5 absurd comedies”, but I think they are more silly / funny than absurd. Godot is absurd, but two mayflies making out are cute. That’s where we open this ensemble set with “Time Flies”. Jason Horne and Natalie Cordon buzz into her lily pad with bent feelers and fun little bug bodies strapped on their backs. They met at a swarm, and she invited him back for some stagnant water and gnat flakes. While a sonorous Davis Attenborough (Jay Hopkins) expands on the low status and large sex drive of the species, our two lovers come to a shocking realization – if it isn’t’ sex on a first date, its no sex ever. I don’t find that absurd, just efficient.
A quick blackout transitions into “Degas, C’est Moi”, the make believe world of a young man (Horne). Today he fancies himself as Edgar Degas, famous painter and sculptor. It’s not delusion, just a day dream, but it flows by so effortlessly that you wonder if you shouldn’t try it yourself. As he runs errands, eats lunch, and meets his work-a-day wife (Cordone), the rest of the ensemble floats by him as a mélange of deliverymen, clerks, and denizens of the city. It’s absolutely beautiful.
After a short and early intermission, Norman (Ryan Leyhue) is on his way to the airport in “Arabian Nights.” Time is tight and he wants a souvenir from this Middle East trip. The Interpreter (Jamie Bridwell) introduces him to shopkeeper Flora (Cordone) and translates everything from the mundane to the phantasmagorical phrases of Scheherazade. Norman doesn’t just need a souvenir, but “seeks a great treasure here in this shop” which may just be retiring Flora. It’s fun, but the weakest piece in the show.
Next we go back to the beginning of time and meet Canaphit (Hopkins) and Gorph (Horne) in “Babels In arms”. They arrive, sweating and groaning, carrying the world’s heaviest foam block. There’s some business about building the tower of Babel and whether God is up or down or everywhere, but this is the sort of piece that really shows off the comic ability of the cast – they can pull solid laugh out of people by making faces lifting a box. Here’s where Mr. Leyhue gets his best line as the eunuch dressed in harem pants – “Bite me. It’s my JOB!”
We wrap up with an odd little Agatha Christie parody, “The Mystery at Twicknam Vicarage.” It seems deceased Jeremy (Horne) has slept with everyone else on stage, more or less successfully. He’s even made it with the couch and wing chair, but now someone ventilates his ventricles. We run time back and forth, and while everyone is a bit strident, they are all guilty, including Jeremy himself. Heck, even the furniture wanted him dead. “(F)IVES” is fast and fun, and great look at just how much you can accomplish in ten short minutes with a great cast.
For more information on Jester Theater Company, please visit http://www.jestertheater.com
archy & mehitabel
By Mel Brooks, George Kleinsinger, and Joe Darion
Directed by Patrick Flick
Starring Michael Andrews, Sara Jones, and Stephan Jones
Mad Cow Theater, Orlando, Fla.
“archy and mehitabel” is one of the finest interspecies musical comedies ever staged in Orlando. Sensitive, intellectual blattella germanica archy (andrews, no caps tonight, please) pours out his heart by stage jumping into a typewriter, one key at a time. Trapped in the lowly role of nature’s disgusting scavenger, he yearns for more – artistic recognition, freedom from discrimination, and a slightly better class of apple peelings. But love looms larger in his life – he’s stricken by mehitabel (Sara Jones), an alley cat with the morals of… an alley cat. It’s not exactly a reciprocal relation, as she threatens to flatten him more than once, but they some how have reached an understanding – she sleeps with her own species, but after the post-coital cigarette, she comes back to him for philosophy and sympathy. When unwanted pregnancy strikes, archy encourages mehitabel to seek employment as a house cat. The food is regular, but the terms are tough – put up with children, and no tomcatting around. She chafes, and in the end we find we can’t change people, cats, or cockroaches, and they are happier being themselves.
As unlikely a tale as this is, it’s a perfect vehicle for michael andrews in his nebbish mode – goofy costumes, nervous looks, some great songs for him to hammer out. I’d list the titles but you’ll hear them all anyway at the show, and with recent arts funding cuts, something had to go. Sara Jones has the earthy sexuality one hopes for in a fishnet wearing alley cat. I felt kitty-ish myself, and tried to catch one of the feathers emitted by her costume as it floated past me in the front row. Supporting Archy and his girl is a wonderful Stephen Jones as big bill the tom cat, and tyrone tattersall the theatrical cat. Jones can overact with the best on command, a skill essential to his role. Whether he’s threatening archy, running away from his kittens, or making mehitabel read Shakespeare, he’s the pillar of nonsense that makes the unlikely love story seem natural in comparison.
While set with an odd cast of characters, it’s a common enough story – you are who you are, who belong where you are. What’s unique is the intellectualizing of the insect kingdom – see this show and think twice about squishing that palmetto bug. He may be somewhere on the Barnes and Nobel best seller list.
For more information on Mad Cow, please visit http://www.madcowtheatre.com
A Day In Hollywood, A Night In The Ukraine
Book and lyrics by Dick Vosburgh
Music by Frank Lazarus
Directed by W. Robert Sherry
Annie Russell Theater, Winter Park Fla.
Once upon a time movies were such a big deal than no one even bothered to watch television. The stars were grand, the theatres great and gaudy, and even the most hackney plot seem fresh and startling. “A Day in Hollywood, A Night in Ukraine” attempts to recapture that innocence, with some mixed results. There are two loosely related acts, the first a series of songs about movies sung by the enthusiastic cast, and the second act a weak parody of a Marx Brothers movie.
The opening musical tribute recaptures the sound and fury of the Golden Age of Film. There are original tunes from the era, including the Bob Hope classic “Thanks for the Memories.” Then there are some pretty funny send ups, such as the completely silly “Oh, Nelson!” True, it helps if you are familiar with the oeuvre of Nelson Eddy, the singing Canadian Mounties who spent his career romancing the same Janet MacDonald, but the duet between the singer and the cardboard cut out is truly hilarious. Most amazingly, this is the third tap dancing show I’ve seen in the last month. Not only do the singing ushers do a fine job of clicking their toes and heels, but above the main action “Dancing Feet” tap, scuffle and waltz along with the tunes in a 16 inch high stage.
More of a challenge for this Rollins Theater Department cast is the “A Night in the Ukraine” segment. The premise is it’s just another Marx Brothers movie, with Madame Pavlenko (Carrie Bonnell) a recent widow who doesn’t want to go to a party. As Sasha (John Ryan playing Chico) sums up “That’s enough plot, let’s get on with the jokes.” More plot wasn’t needed, but the jokes were hit and miss. It’s tough to copy someone else’s shtick and make it work and the Marx Brothers combination of ethnic stereotypes, physical comedy and surreal word play was too elusive tonight. I will grant that the casting was quite good – a fluid and relaxed Greg McIver capture the motion of Serge Samovar (or Groucho – must be a copy right issue there somewhere). Harpo’s roll was filled by Natalie Andrews (as Gino), who also captured the physicality of the original, and kept the mandatory harp playing scene to a merciful few minutes, and employed a bicycle instead of a musical instrument. This WAS a big improvement over the original. Still, when words had to fall in the correct spot, they didn’t always mesh, and it was an apparent adlib by McIver that stopped the cast in its tracks. The sight gags occasionally worked, but the word play rarely did, making this a nice reminisce for those of us who grew up with black and white, but it wasn’t comedy it’s father was.
For more information on the Annie Russell Theatre at Rollins College, please visit http://www.rollins.edu/theatre/index.shtml
Still Offensive After All These Years
The OOPS Guys
Orlando Cabaret Fest
Mad Cow Theater, Orlando Fla.
There’s something about these guys that reminds me of Most Extreme Elimination Challenge. Maybe it’s the slyly salacious banter between Fiely Matias and Dennis Giacino. Maybe it’s the whole over-the-top bizarro oriental gayness. Maybe it’s the potential messiness of simulated water bottle sucking or the giant 6 foot foam penis shooting streamers into the audience. Heck, it might even be the semi-sentient cabaret music Dennis G pounds out as Fiely taunts both him and the audience. Yes, we know who the queen vamps is tonight – it’s either Fiely, or some unfortunate straight guy dragged up on stage and forced to catch the briadal boquet of lust.
The OOPS Guys are perennial Orlando favorites, making good music and bad theater from a delightful mix of warp sensibilities and catchy lyrics. “Still Offensive” has some new material and a lot of old stuff and we plough through familiar and funny ground that regulars and new comers together will appreciate. Old standard like “Wet sand in my swimsuit” and “Orlando FLA” vie with a few new tunes to build a solid wall of comedy. I’d mention the new titles, but they cheaped out and didn’t give us programs.
One sure thing about and Orlando OOPS show is the number of regular friends who show up. If your one of the in crowd, you’ll get a ticket in the back of the hall, allowing Fiely to pester new people. It’s always better to get virgins on stage; regulars might just upstage Fiely and that might lead to kitty bitch slapping.
This is not a show for the gay hostile crowd, but if you don’t mind the subject matter, the camp factor is very high, and the material very funny, and having a OOPS friendly audience guarantees laughs, no matter how often Fiely insults Dennis. Buy a drink, I bet these guys can get you to spew cheap wine out your nose.
For more information on the OOPS Guys, visit http://www.kookyart.com/oopsguys
For more information on Orlando Cabaretfest, please visit http://www.orlandocabaret.com/
Love Now
By Jack McGrath
Directed by Julia Gagne
Starring Frank Soto, Marcie Schwalm
Valencia Character Company, Orlando Fla.
There are many cures for writer’s block, none of which work particularly well. Tom Mulholland (Soto) needs another hit TV series, and when he gets desperate, he stages a fake suicide to get into a classy loony bin. Cynical Doctor Dora Kimsey (Schwalm) sees right though him, and tries to boot him for more qualified nut cases, but he has pretty good insurance and a solid sense of the dramatic, so he stays. At first, his wife Kelly (Becky Lynn Plemons) drops buy to whine about not having a Lamborghini, but then she sees something in his erstwhile assistant Merck (John Bateman). They start dating, and after Tom mistakenly signs his own commitment papers, he’s stuck in there pretty much for good. So much for believing what you see in the soaps is like real life. Tom finds hospitalization doesn’t help his writing, and the pile of crumbled yellow paper grows and grows until he steals a pretty decent pot boiler from genuinely messed up Nathan (Junior Perez).
Writing about writing is always a bit of a cheat, but the story author McGrath weaves is cleaver and well structured. Frank Soto appears the complete Hollywood bastard, self centered and destructive, and the scary thing is I actully see what Kelly might like in him. The interesting twist is the doctor actully falls for his stories, a violation of professional ethics and common sense. Anyone planning something that dumb MUST be sane; stupidity like Kimsey’s makes the world go around. Perez’s Nathan is the most sympathetic, not only does he have a bizarre disease that has driven his normal mind over the edge, but damages the only thing he really wants. Kelly gets an amazing number of costume changes, and exudes a whiney sex appeal as the perfect LA soon-to-be-ex trophy wife.
Time passes slowly in hospital and when you can’t think of anything to type. That weird flow of time projected through the magical lighting playing off randomly hung curtains, and we get some slow spots as Tom wavers between sanity and insanity. At the end points of the show, it’s clear that Tom is sane and scamming the system, but in the middle there as a good case that he really is a danger to himself and those around him. It’s a solid show, well presented.
For more information on Valencia Character Company, please visit http://valenciacc.edu/theater/
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
By William Shakespeare
Directed by Jim Helsinger
Orlando UCF Shakespeare Festival, Orlando, Fla.
The cold breath of winter recedes, and it’s safe to go outside for an evening’s entertainment. Our northern relations regard us as wusses down here, but it’s over 60 and Orlando UCF’s Shakespeare in the Park always heralds the first true mark of spring. Tonight we enjoy the perennial favorite “Midsummer Night’s Dream”, a tale of crossed love and poorly dispensed medication.
In the court of Duke Theseus (Esau Prichett), businesslike Lysander (Timothy William) falls in love with perky Hermia (Heather Leonardi) who is naturly betrothed to stern Demetrius (David Hardie). It’s marry him or die, so Hermia and Lysander head for the woods while prim Helena (Mindy Anders) futilely chases Demetrius. All end up in the wild woods where fairies and sprites abound, and the local community theater crowd has come to rehearse.
Fairies have their own problems, and King Oberon (Pritchett) is on the outs with his queen Titanian (Jean Tafler), and employs Puck (Christopher Mullen) to rub magic flower juice on everyone’s eyes so they will fall in or out of love as the plot demands. The local theater ham Bottom (Brad DePlanche) annoys Puck. Puck gets his goat undies in a bunch, throws spit wads, and then turns Bottom into an ass. Ok, he was mostly there to start with, but the ears are a nice touch. Well, you know the result, more magic flower juice straightens out the sex, and the community theater group gets through its lines while the audience goes “Oh, they tried so hard…”
Enough plot. Despite some oddities in their Greek orthography, the OUCFSF pulls off another stylish production. The show was stolen again by Brad DePlanche with his over the top antics and wonderful timing. His little play within a play company took their unpromising material and pulled gales of laughter out of it by just pushing their text as far a bad taste would allow. All four of the main lovers looked the part, but Heather Leonardi Hermia took a hysterical Valley Girl approach to the role, petting and preening a straight faced Tim Williams. Esau Pritchett seemed shocked at the ferocity of Athenian law, and seemed unwilling to bend it to reason, even though that would have killed all the motivation for the story. When he stepped into his Oberon role, he became much more menacing, although he did have a habit of spreading magic by massive exhalations. Weird things happened onstage when he breathed, and one ought to consider Bottom’s little speech about actors not eating garlic or onions before going to work.
It’s bright, fun, and fluffy, the weather cooperated, and the city was politely quite all evening. It was a perfect start to the summer.
For more information on UCF-Shakespeare, visit
http://www.shakespearefest.org
‘So Kaye: The Songs of Danny Kaye
Performed by John O’Neill and Jim Rice
Orlando Cabaret Fest
Mad Cow Theater, Orlando Fla.
So, raise your hand if you remember Danny Kaye…. I thought so, not many of you recall this multitalented musician and actor from the mid 20th century. Kaye started in the Catskills back in the 20’s and went on to a life long career of film, television, orchestral conducting, and just plain singing. While not as well known as he ought to be, Boston based entertainer John O’Neil has a fascination with Kaye, and mines this deep vein of material. Backed by pianists Jim Rice and glass of water, he revives a dozen and a half of Kaye’s best works in this fun little show at the 3rd annual Cabaret Fest.
Mr. O’Neil is a slight man with blonde hair done in the wavy style I associate with Danny, and his pleasant tenor brings back sounds from 50 years ago. You’ve likely heard the standards such as “I’m Hans Christian Anderson” or “Wonderful Copenhagen”, but you’ll find the more obscure tunes like “Frim Fram Sauce” equally engaging. Kaye was a master of wordplay, and the tinge twisting “Tschakowsky” reminds one of Tom Lehrer’s equally obscure “Lobachevsky”. O’Neil’s most touching number come in the form of Yiddish standard “Oif’n Pripetshik” accompanied by a tearful story of the Holocaust. This guy can milk a number like the best Jewish mother.
Time flies in the hour we are allotted as O’Neil poles the audience for Kaye stories and needles us for not being Irish enough. We learn a few things ourselves, such that the almost but not quite risqué version of Cab Calloway’s “Minnie the Moocher” was one of Kaye’s favorites. Cabaret is back in Orlando, and Mad Cow is pulling more and better out-of-town talent to supplement our local singers. You should note that Mr. O’Neil is doing two shows this series, the family freindly “ ‘So Kay”, and a more adult themed program for the wilder set. Drop by either one, you’ll be impressed.
For more information on Mad Cow, please visit http://www.madcowtheatre.com
Guys And Dolls
Music and Lyrics by Frank Loesser
Book By Jo Swerling and Abe Burrows
Directed by Jim Brown
Starring Desmond Newson, Michael Swickard, Andrea Dunn, Mandi John
UCF Conservatory Theater, Orlando Fla.
UCF presents and ambitious musical that hits on all cylinders – writing, acting, staging, singing and dancing. True, it’s hard to miss with a big name show like Guys and Dolls, but I have seen it done. Set in post WW2 New York, it’s a cartoonish universe of gamblers and hustlers and a whole society based on varying degrees of crookedness. Lovable Nathan Detroit (Swickard) lives off the vigorish of a floating crap game, and dodges his 14 year fiancée, the adenoidal Miss Adelaide (Dunn). She’d prefer he get a real job, but tonight some real big players are in town, like slick Sky Masterson (Newson) and nearly tough Big Jule (Danny Reyes). The profit potential is huge, but Detroit’s stuck with a problem – no place to host the game without a rather large cash deposit. To raise scratch Detroit gambles Sky he can’t get prudish Miss Sara Brown (John) out of her rescue mission and down to Havana for diner. Detroit wins the bet but loses his own bachelorhood but pulls off the Big Game. Funniest of all, Adelaide and Brown are convinced they can change these men into well behaved family types. Yeah, for about 3 hours I’d guess.
Not content with a solid student cast of actors, director Brown inserts a number of cleverly choreographed dance and fight sequences arranged by Earl Weaver and Chris Niess. Occasionally the fights become a bit chaotic, but never to point of anyone getting seriously hurt. When there not singing or dancing, we get a really drawn set of low life’s and supporting actors. Reji Woods-Hill plays teddy bear of a hood as Nicely Nicely Johnson, and occasionally Josh Katzker pops out as the tough talking yet ineffective Irish cop Lt. Brannigan.
I’ve never understood the fascination with craps, but someone must like it, it seems to appear in every rat pack movie ever made, and this timeless story seems to be the genesis for the whole 50’s Vegas New York cool scene. UCF has taken this timeless and out of time story and made it sparkle. If you’re lucky, get out and see it.
For more information on UCF Conservatory Theatre, visit
Oedipus the King
By Sophocles
Adapted By John DiDonna
Directed by John DiDonna and Seth Kubersky
Starring Christian Kelty, Avis Marie Barnes, Jeff Lindberg
Empty Spaces Theater Company, Studio Theater Courtyard Orlando Fla
Last month I saw Molière on a trampoline, and this month we have Oedipus on Survivor Island. While purist may cringe, this lively and sexy romp though one of the greatest tragedies of Greece fills the smoky, dusty Studio Theater Courtyard. A few yard of sand and some Amdro set the stage for the skimpily dressed chorus, smeared with paint and symbols of a dozen cultures. All wear grass anklets and arm bands, and the principals dress in cast off furs and Egyptian face paint. A set of drummers makes a jungle rhythm and you feel your not in Greece or UCF but in a lost land with no cell phones and no credit cards and no way to flip the channel. AND you get a comfy directors chair to sit in!
You may recall the story – when Oedipus was born, the oracles predicts he will kill his father. The child is mutilated and abandoned in the mountains, only to be recovers and sent to Corinth by kindly shepherds. There he becomes heir to the Corinthian throne, and returns to Thebes and semi -accidentally fulfills the prophecy, causing famine and plague on his countrymen. The Gods have only one solution for this sin – exile or death. Go figure.
As the story unfolds, the chorus swarms the audience and players, alternately cowering and bullying, and often resorting to puppets to play the crowd of Thebes. At the height of the show, Oedipus (DiDonna) and Creon (Kelty) rise up on the backs of this ragtag chorus to argue 8 feet in the sky, floating as robots in an Anime film. Grit and dirt cover everything, and a rain day would turn this show in to a mud wrestling orgy. Hmmm…Oedipus In Mud…it COULD work!
All in all, this is one of the coolest theatric events I’ve ever seen, partly because of the skill in adapting and staging, and partly because it’s so unexpected. Like Blair Witch, I doubt anyone could pull this off again, but I highly recommended putting on some old clothes and tramping down to see it.
For more information on Empty Spaces Theater Company, visit http://www.emptyspacestheatre.org
Dames At Sea
Book and Lyric by George Haimsohn and Robin Miller
Directed by Michael Edwards
Starring Heather Alexander, Heather Dawn Sipler, Todd Allen Long
Winter Park Playhouse, Winter Park Florida
There’s a time for Plot, and there’s a time for Tap. In the impossibly small space of Winter Park Playhouse, we get a little the first and a lot of the latter. Take every movie and stage cliché and toss them together – Ruby (Sipler) arrives in New York as a raw new comer with nothing but low blood sugar and a new set of taps. She’s invoved with Naval Conscript / songwriter Dick (Long), who miraculously bumps into her as she seeks a job in a failing playhouse dominated by a fading star Mona Kent (Alexander). The job is hers until bulldozers demolish the place for a roller rink. Not to fear, the show moves on to a convenient Navy cruiser captained by Mona’s boyfriend Captain Gullible (Edwards). There’s a love quadrangle and some other plot, but it’s written with a big magic marker so you’ll pick it up in about 2 nanoseconds. Just pay attention to their feet, that’s here the excitement lurks.
What makes this show sing are the songs, punctuated by tap numbers so completely fabricated that you have no choice but to fall in love with them. Supporting the action is lanky Robin Pedretti as the cynical Joan who adopts Ruby, and her philandering boy friends Lucky (Roy Allen), both of which can shoot sparks out there toes when called upon. My criterion for musicals is simple – can you hum something out to the car? Two songs easily meet that mark – Lucky’s “Singapore Sue”, and the boffo blow out number “Star Tar” where Sipler get to take the stage completely by herself long enough to pull solid applause in the middle of her big tap number. Now, THAT’S entertainment!
This is a non-stop escapist fun, suitable for anyone who’s ever seen a black and white movie. WPPH has new risers, improving their sight lines considerably, even though the chairs make good relations with your neightbors critical. I recommend seating boy-girl-boy, but you can work that out for yourself. This show is selling out for good reason, grab some tickets before you have to whine at them to extend.
For more information on Winter Park Playhouse, visit http://www.winterparkplayhouse.org/
Hay Fever
Written by Noel Coward
Directed by Anne Hering
Starring Rosanna Hurt, Ryan Cimino, Adrienne Feldman, Tyler Anderson
Seminole Community College fine Arts Theater
Living is an art, but the Bliss family makes making art their entire life. Judith Bliss (Hurt) used to act onstage, but now confines her histrionics to the country estate husband David (Cimino) bought with the proceeds of his awful novels. Somehow, they spawned two perfectly artistic children, Sorel (Feldman) and Simon (Anderson). The weather looks bad this week, so all 4 invite their respective lovers down for the weekend without bothering to check for conflicts on the show schedule. The one guest room will make sleeping arrangements tight.
Now, the reason all these people are down is not to make whoopee or work on their relations, but to provide an audience for what ever 15 seconds of fame Judith or anyone else might gain. By the second act, all the Bliss’s have switched partners and announced engagements, often to the shock and dismay of the counter party. By the third act, the guests flee in the car of Judith’s paramour Sandy Tyrell (Corey Volence), shocking their hosts for all of 15 seconds. At that point, they find a nice argument about Parisian street layout, and all is well.
Coward’s sprightly comedy of art sublimating love get sublimated itself as the cast races through the lines, intent on squeezing the show into some arbitrary time constraint. Thus, they largely miss the timing needed to pull laughter out of the jokes. True, a few jokes are a bit dated, but the foibles of the rich remain fairly constant and it takes supreme effort on the part of Hurt’s Judith to keep this show alive. Some support arrives now and again – Anderson’s Simon hits the marks, and tuxedoed Richard Greatham (Will Gibson) handles his fussy role with charm. Physically, Jackie Coryton (Carmen Reyes Garcia) gets tossed from supposed lover to lover, never sure of what is going on in this rabid household, and her expressions of fear and loathing are nearly as good as written lines. Holding everyone down is Feldman’s Sorel Bliss who rarely pauses and runs lines with a flat intonation. Only those familiar with the text get the jokes and occasional titter must fill in for the belly laughs. Given the stunning set and author, this comedy should be a lot funnier.
The King of Schnorrers
Book and Songs by Judd Woldin
Directed By Al Krulick
Starring Al Krulick, Mark Shami, and Kylie Rojas
Jewish Community Center, Maitland Florida
Alms for the poor were always part of God’s plan, but the Jewish approach is to hire a professional – the Schnorrer. He stands ready to accept your charity, and if you cheap out, the Schnorrer is honor bound to ask for more. In cosmopolitan London, both the Ashkenazim (Yiddish for hillbillies) and the Sephardim (Yiddish for city slickers) mix economically, but keep to themselves when it’s time to marry. Young Ashkenazim David Grobstock (Krulick) rejects the stock exchange seat offered by his father Joseph (Tom Greenman). Push cart selling is more his speed – it offers him time to keep his reading up. Lordly Sephardic schnorrer Manasseh Da Costa (Shami) works Joseph hard at least once a week, shaming him into dinner while critiquing the soup. All the while Da Costa hopes to marry his feisty daughter Deborah (Rojas) to someone suitable, which would not include the nouveau riche Grobstock clan. Da Costa looks the beggar, but he plies a very profitable trade and standards must be upheld. Naturally, Jacob and Deborah start a prickly if poorly motivated romance, and naturally both fathers are dead set against the union. Jacob bets Manasseh he can schnorr notorious miser Furtado (John Archer Lundgren) in exchange for Deborah, even though she’s not party to the negotiation. Of course he succeeds, but to my goyish point of view it seems Jacob over steps the bounds of proper schnorrerism with outright lies and never actully gets invited in for dinner. But, he gets the girl and that’s what counts.
We are dealing with a musical here, and while there are a few pretty decent songs (Chutzpah, Absolutely Not), only Krulick and Rojas can sing. The other cast members don’t seem up to the simple melodies, but they do try and mostly we hear the words. Lyrically, things are fairly clever – it takes some chutzpah to rhyme “Kabala” with “Challa” and I give points for that. Music moves most of the action along, but we never get a truly memorable tune. Weakening the second act is very stilted scene where Da Costa is hauled before the Sephardic commission and grilled about the upcoming mariage. He’s confident enough, but the major domo (Aaron Tanzer) gets some truly awful lines to read. Not even repeated pounding of the holy staffs on the floor can save this dialog.
Notionally a Jewish Romeo and Juliet, “Schnorrers” lacks the tragedy and bad advice of the source, with everyone happy at the end, and no compromises required. Both the parents and the children seem to accept everything without complaint, and everybody ends up story book happy. The first act works well, building character and tension, but the second act diffuses it, and there is no heroic hummable music to gloss over the flaws. Simply accept is for what it is – a nice show, weakly executed.
For more information, please visit http:// http://www.orlandojcc.org/
Sweet Bird of Youth
By Tennessee Williams
Directed by Frank Hilgenberg
Starring Nikki Darden, John Hill, James Cassidy
Theater Downtown, Orlando Fla.
I’ve noticed that every washed up rock band come to Florida just as they hit bottom. Is it poor timing, or just something in the air that draws the faded and fading? Fleeing a fading career, “Princess” Alexandra Del Lago (Darden) picked up cabana boy Chance Wayne (Hill) in Miami and heads for Texas. They’ve stopped in a mythical Saint Cloud, Florida; it’s a small town somewhere up in the panhandle complete with waves and seagulls. Chance grew up here and stole the virginity of underage Heavenly (Katie Merriman), daughter of Boss Finley (Cassidy). She’s not allowed to marry for love, as Boss is saving her breasts for someone with more money and influence. Chance shows up and books into a fancy hotel with wanton Del Lago, turning the staid town ugly. Everyone knows him and his failed potential and they either want him dead or gone. Del Lago falls for him as soon as the drugs wear off, but he prefers to hold out for the equally embittered Heavenly. Chance nearly discovers there is no going back, but even the tragic triumph of this homecoming carries a violent edge to it. His showing off impresses no one, but in the end Chance get off lucky – the wounds will heal, and Alexandra might at least drag him to the next worthless town on the Spanish trail.
Darden’s Alexandra is possibly the only really sympathetic person in this sleazy Peyton place. She has her own agenda, as we all do, and Chance is just a passing fancy. Still, you don’t just feel her hangover, but her hurt as she recounts a variety of unpleasant relations. Chance has the pretty boy look, cueing us that no one can look that good and not end up in politics or acting. He misses both, becoming the archetypical “stuck in high school glory days” types that pump gas across out fair land. But it’s Cassidy as the evil Boss Finley who really frames this story. His fear, hate and thick as asphalt mumble make him the most despised person of all – the hate monger with real power. He runs St. Cloud with a mixture of fear and humiliation, backed up by vicious son Tom Junior (Dean Walkuski). Walkuski scared me, and I was almost all the way in the back. He makes the whole town feel like the last strip club I went to – tuxedoed thugs keep everyone one in line, and that means toeing the company line. Chicago has nothing on southern politics.
OK, so even if you can go home, you shouldn’t want to; and if you do, nothing will ever be right again not even the fantasies held closest to your heart. “Sweet Bird” drips with good old Southern racism and abuse, qualities we think we left back in Ohio when we moved here. But that’s the eternal draw of all good Southern authors – they convince Northerners the heat makes us as bad as everyone thinks we are. And who’s to argue?
For more information, please visit http://www.theatredowntown.net
Arcadia
By Tom Stoppard
Directed by Alan Bruun
Starring Marnee McClellan, Jay Becker, Jamie Middleton, Tommy Keesling
Mad Cow Theater, Orlando Florida.
It’s so rare to see a play than handles Chaos Theory, Gödel’s Uncertainty Theorem, and inappropriate relationship so neatly. Parallel histories in the past and present fill the ancient seat of Selbey Hall, both surprisingly similar even with 300 years separating them. In the not-so-good old days, Septimus Hodge (Becker) is engaged to teach precocious Thomasina Coverly (McClellan) arts and algebra. She’s a quick study, and dopes out the bones of chaos theory and the second law of thermodynamics pretty much on her own. She’s hobbled not only by her female status, but by a general lack of computational power in those days as she fills a notebook with brilliantly unappreciated math, only to die tragically in a fire on the eve of her 17th birthday. In the present day, academic muckraker Bernard Nightingale (Keesling) imposes on the home owner Valentine Coverly (Nick Sprysenski) and his academic girlfriend Hanna (Middleton). She’s researching the hermit who used to live on the grounds in the 1800s, but Bernard thinks is possible Lord Byron shot extremely minor poet Ezra Chater (Alan Sinic) in a duel and fled the country. It’s a stretch, and of interest only to specialists, but then so is Chaos Theory.
There’s a strong thread of precious witticisms running though the show, with Oscar Wilde-like lines such as “Sex is so much nicer than Love”. There’s also a reasonable explanation of some fairly high powered mathematics, with reference to Fermat’s theorem and the philosophical argument between a predictable LaPlacian universe lacking free will and a more modern quantum universe nearly devoid of determinism. But best of all, there’s a good slug of regency sex revolving around the spic and span Septimus and his ready to rock protégé Thomasina. In the modern flip of the story, sexual tension builds between the astonishingly annoying Bernard and uptight Hanna. Other significant performances come from the Quaker engineer and landscaper Noakes (Jamie Cline) and reactionary lady Croom (Marty Stonerock). She has fairly open ideas about romance, but hates to see the formally classic gardens replaced by the romantic chaos of Noakes’ new style, just as in the early 20th century reactionaries like Einstein fought against the quantum mechanical interpretation of our universe.
Do not fear the math, there’s no quiz and it only decorates the romance. There are fewer servants and more computer power in the mansion today, but nothing has really changed in the relation between man and woman. Director Gibson has propelled this potential lecture back into the world we seek on the stage – man vs. girl with no way either side can predict what the other will do. You could get a doctorate on the topic, and still not understand it.
For more information on Mad Cow, please visit http://www.madcowtheatre.com
Romantic Comedy
By Bernard Slade
Directed By Jay Hopkins
Starring Robyn Pedretti and Steven Hurst
Jester Theater Company
Studio Theater, Orlando, Fla.
Famous Author School never tells you about this problem – you might just fall in love with your writing partner. It happened to Jason (Hurst) – his old partner quit, and gangly Phoebe (Pedretti) shows up on his wedding day, promising script in hand. It’s tough finding a partner in this intimate endeavor, but he takes her on at first sight and even his long-suffering bride Allison (Elizabeth Bradshaw) accepts the situation. Jason may sleep with Allison, but he spends his time with Phoebe. Quite a bit of plot occurs next, with alcoholism, divorce and vomiting in the mayor’s shoes driving the plot forward. Personally, I’d give almost anything to vomit in the mayor’s shoes, but to Phoebe it’s a bit embarrassing. By the 3rd act, Phoebe has to make a choice – stick with the sexually dysfunctional Jason, or follow her perennial second fiddle hobby Leo (Jason Horne) to Madrid. Consider the title, and guess what happens – this is a 1960s drawing room comedy, stretching the boundaries, but not too much.
While the plot is a bit convoluted, you’ll keep up with it as Phoebe emits that odd sexuality that I associate with intelligent women. Hovering over the action is Jason’s agent, the motherly if not drunken Anitra Pritchard. Jason takes a fall, and while the temptation is obvious, he eventually falters with the cranky leading lady Kate (Christy DeMeritt). When discovered, she appears in an inside out dress, which is oddly attractive. She means nothing to Jason (always the excuse, isn’t it?) but his infidelity motivates Phoebe to go on to bigger and better things. Leo is the sad one – he’s the only sincere person up there, he always does the right thing, and gets the short end of the manuscript.
While the plot has a few flaws, the comedy itself is flawless as a prissy and self satisfied Jason falls to earth, and the uncomfortable Phoebe finds her place in the world, lets down her a hair, and becomes the sex goddess that always lurked inside. “Romantic Comedy” is not only funny and romantic, but transcend any dated dialog, out-of-date word processors, or contrived situation. It make you laugh, it makes you care about everyone including distant Allison, and has put a goal in my mind. I want to puke on Buddy Dyer’s hush puppies. Now, if only I had a good plot device…
For more information on Jester Theater Company, please visit http://www.jestertheater.com
The Trickeries of Scapin
By Molière
Translated by Tunc Yalman
Directed by Christopher Niess
Starring Lisa Bryant, Aaron Kirkpatrick, Michael Navarro
UCF Conservatory Theater
At the Orlando Rep, Orlando, Fla.
Molière on a trampoline – who would have thought to do that? Certainly not I, but the effect is stunning – no matter what happens in the script, the cast bounces around like Tigger in masks, climbing up and sliding down a theatrical monkey bar gym set. The plot is hopelessly 17th century – a young man Octave (Kirkpatrick) secretly marries the wrong woman, an over-Barbiefied squeaker of a girl Hyacinte (Brittany Berkowitz). His semi best friend Leandre (Donte Bonner) has similar low taste – he’s gone for the gypsy chick Zerbinette (Niki Klass). Neither one has told dear old dad, both of whom are business partners. Octave’s dad Argante (Todd Davis) is pretty ticked, along with Leander’s poppa Gerent (Sam Waters). What to do? Why, appeal to rapscallion servant Scapin (Bryant), that sexually ambiguous master of solving any problem. Along with side kick Sylvester (Navarro), Scapino fleeces each father for a stack of doubloons, repairs the family ties, and reveals that each girl is in fact worthy of marriage. Quite the bastard, that Scapin!
Molière ranks in timelessness with the earlier English Bard, if he falls a few centuries later in time. Perhaps the plot is a hair hackneyed; this clever and energetic production runs the cast up and down the stairs in and out of the lofts of the theater, sometimes attacking each other and often stealing shoes from the paying customers. Scapin is wonderful, alternately boorish and crooked, clever and cloying. While Scapin is low of stature in the community of the wealthy, and ranks high in the eyes of the serving class, his (or her) general “don’t give a damn” attitude and general boldness allows the freedom to do anything. Around Scapin swirls a bouncy and convincing crowd of masked revelers, all representing the stereotypes of pre-revolutionary France. Navarro’s Sylvester is the perfect second banana, obedient and fearless, Klass’s Zerbinette slathers sex on the stage, and Todd Davis rages impotently as the wronged father – oh, that we could all do that to dear old dad!
Molière skewers the pretense of the day, and enough of the human condition remains unchanged to carry forward to the 21st century. The language is a bit stilted, but not to the point of confusion. What really pulls this production into the new millennia is the adaptation – director Niess puts a clever twist on the staging, and with an abundance of young actors who probably hang out in health clubs instead of bars, this ballistic project flies.
Everyman
By Anonymous
Directed by Elena Day and Chris Gibson
Mad Cow Theater, Orlando, Fla.
Every man owes God a death, and in the Christian tradition, a bit more beyond that. Death (Terrence Yip) drops by the party that surrounds Everyman (Damany Riley). It’s time, and a fevered and fruitless negotiation commences. In the compressed and expanded world of stage time, Everyman has time to visit a few of his acquaintances before his time ends. His closest friend (David Knoell) cheers him up by abandoning him. His family asks him to hurry along so they can start the wake. And his wealth laughs him along – gold and silver don’t visit the grave, only humans. Stripped to his skivvies, there’s little left beside him but his crippled Good Works (Sarah French) and the aid of divine Knowledge (Kimberly Gray). They become his spirit guides and convince him penance and submission are the only course left, and he accepts his position.
While this work was written 500 years ago, not that much has changed even if our cultural context has shifter significantly. Mad Cow’s interpretation helps enormously, as we see the Elizabethan text set against a body of modern dance and movement. Riley’s portrayal of Everyman is truly amazing, not only for his sense of pain and abandonment, but also for his ability to throw himself down like he was really struck by that scourge Knowledge wields. Both the female supporting actresses slide between pathos and sultriness, one for this world, and the other for the next. Yip and Knoll did a deft job of balancing on each others knees, sometimes as players, and sometimes just parking themselves as props when not needed in the direct action.
While Everyman is an overtly religious work, somehow the direct message of sin and redemption was transformed from sermon to a mirror of each of our lives. We have all done horrible things, either publicly or privately, and arrogance will not cure us or our victims. This simple story tells out on a minimal set, cued by gentle lighting shifts and almost no props. This enhances the effect – we all expect death to be the ultimate minimalist experience, with no clothes, no friends and no cell phone. You have to make it into the afterlife with nothing but your wits, and maybe not even those will be available. That’s what supernatural beings provide – comfort for when there is none. ◼
