Number 26: Fringe Fest 2002
by Carl F. Gauze
Here we stand staring the last of the major Guilt Holidays of the
year right in the face – Mother’s Day. Sure, Father’s Day still lurks in
June, but all he’s expecting is a tie. Mom, on the other hand, put up
with you on a daily basis and now you need to get some Hallmark tchotcka
to show you really care. Try this – drag her down to Fringe Fest in
Orlando. Either she’ll love it, or she’ll never ever complain about the
bouquet in that lame FTD coffee cup again. Heck, my mom is now in
permanent hiding in Wisconsin. I recommend this plan highly.
The Well Of Horniness
By Holly Hughes
Directed by Greg London-Williams
Fierce Betty Theatre Company
Fred Stone Theater, Winter Park, Fla</b><p>
As Lebanese Film Noir Radio Drama goes, this is pretty cute. Georgette (Anna DeMears) was shot while dining with her husband Rod (Heather Leonardi) at the possibly infamous “Vixens Den.” The prime suspect is his cousin or sister or some such shirt tale, Vicki (Rebecca Johnson). An ex-member of the Tri-Babs sorority, she’d like to drop the mop squeezing and get back to the muff diving, just like in her bright shining college days. Of course, a corpse leads to cops, and hard-boiled detective Garnet (Danielle Fernandez) starts sniffing around for the truth, or at least a low-cal substitute. Maybe it was Babs (Erin Muroski), Georgette’s ex, who did it. Maybe it was Al (Courtney Miller), Rod’s buddy. Maybe not. Heck, maybe the narrator (Michelle Foytek) did it on her way to the midnight Rocky Horror show. She was certainly dressed for it. But while you wait to find out, there are ads for seafood take out and shag carpeting, New Jersey style. As they say about Swedish films: “Symbolism! Symbolism!”
Let me warn you there is mandatory audience predication – we were all supposed to wave and yell when anyone said “Well” on stage. Most of us forgot after a while, but that was OK, as the cast seemed to charge ahead with or without us. Each player had their own little cardboard box of props and junk to get though the show, and while this isn’t a very formal drama, the point was to get as many lesbian jokes in as quickly as possible. Sometimes the show had an intentionally sloppy feel to it, with the intermission just sort of happening as nicotine deprived actors ran out side to smoke. But overall, it was high camp, high cut undies, and high-octane boob jobs. Gosh, maybe being Lebanese IS more fun!<p>
Stop Kiss
By Diane Son
Directed by Greg London-Williams
Starring Heather Leonardi, Danielle Fernandez
Fierce Betty Theatre Company
Fred Stone Theater, Winter Park Fla</b><p>
It takes more than a cat and a rent controlled apartment to mark a woman as a lesbian, so there’s nothing to suspect when Sara (Leonardi) arrives in the Big Apple with here cat Caesar to teach in the Bronx. There’s no room for Caesar in the apartment she lined up, but kindly Callie (Fernandez) agrees to keep the cat, and maybe show her around a few Vietnamese restaurants. Well, one thing leads to another and they become a bit more than fast friends. Both have ex-boyfriends hanging around, Sara’s Peter (Trevin Cooper) in St. Louis, and Callie’s George (David Hardie) somewhere in the neighborhood. I think I saw his toothbrush and some Pink Floyd CD’s lying about in Callie’s apartment. One fateful night, the girls are out bar hopping, and after last call they are attacked and Sara is beat senseless. Will Peter drag her back to the heartland, or will Callie learn how to take care of her and let her move back in with her cat?<p>
“Stop Kiss” presents an interesting and sexy love story set against the background of a strong anti-gay bashing moral. With it’s multiple cuts and flash-forwards, the play can be awkward to present, but the Bettys handle the technical aspects of the show with grace and élan. The relation between Sara and Callie develops naturally, and despite a few awkward moments right at the beginning, it’s a very believable situation with both women realizing their true feeling over an extended period. The supporting cast does a great job, and I particularly liked George and his occasional rant and rave at Callie. He seems to take everything in stride, and there are no hard feelings in this East Village romantic merry-go-round. I did have a little trouble believing Fernandez and Leonardi could actully share clothes, but I’ll give them some suspension on that minor point. Despite a sex and morals story, this is a show for more than the partisan crowd, plus they have nice seats for a small company.<p>
Henrietta
By Karen Jones-Meadows
Directed by Michelle Nicole Falana
Starring Jacki Marshall, Reese Hart
Orlando Black Essential Theater
Orlando, Fla </b><p>
Henrietta (Marshall) has tenure in as an instructor at the School of Hard Knocks, and she fights her loneliness by screaming obscenities on people in the street. Amazingly, this strategy works and she collects the shy but ambitious Sheleeah (Hart). Henrietta has mastered the art of Passive Aggressive to the point of berating you for hating her and crying for you to stay, all in the same sentence. Personally, I need almost an entire paragraph to do that. As the two women’s live intertwine, Sheleeah see opportunity in Henrietta’s fruit salad recipe, and Henrietta sees Sheleeah as the daughter she lost to drugs years ago, a loss that pushed her down the slippery slope to near-homelessness. Meanwhile, Henrietta’s landlord and only other friend Thomas (Barry White) comes to recognize Sheleeah as competition for Henrietta’s affection. The triangle doesn’t last long, as everyone starts shouting at one another until a sane person can only do one thing – run away, like Sheleeah must, leaving Henrietta to harangue the world again from a crate on the street.<p>
When Henrietta runs out of cast members to berate, she takes on the audience, so you might want to avoid the very front row unless you have some NYC survival skills. She’s a handful, and it’s not clear what fascination draws Sheleeah to her in the first place. Once that awkward bit passes, they pair do form a deep and stable relation that’s a joy to watch. Thomas is a bit harder to read – when we first meet him, he seems a slick ladies man, perhaps destined to connect with Sheleeah. Later, he reveals himself another damaged soul, closer to Henrietta’s loose grasp of social niceties than to Sheleeah desperate but successful struggle up from nothing. The show revolves around this odd triangle with it’s three side built of ‘like’ more than ‘love’. Henrietta and Thomas have found a somewhat stable shelf on the rock wall of life, and cling to it afraid to move lest they into the abyss. Sheleeah just sort of climbs past them – she’s like to help, and does for a while, but her long-term solution lies elsewhere, and she needs forward motion to get there. The static and the dynamic do interact, they just don’t hang together all that long. And now you know what goes on behind those creepy guys in the blue boxes downtown.<p>
For more information on Orlando Black Essential Theater, please visit <a href= http://www.obet.org> http://www.obet.org </a><p>
Psyche In A Box
By Daniel Corey
Directed by Connie Monroe
New York Acting Ensemble
Studio Theater, Orlando, Fla</b><p>
Here’s a play so structured you can hear the actor read the roman numerals. Working class agoraphobe Marty Sobecheck (Daniel Corey) writes bad plays and dreads anything that looks like a paying job. His wife Andrea (Brenda Corey) mounts a slow climb up an acting career, moving from commercials to costarring with people you’ve actually heard of. Still, they’re drifting apart, and helping the process is the amazingly annoying Deirdre (Rootie Wilder). She ought to come with a big yellow label that says, “Warning – Toxic Female.” Her measure of marital bliss is the model of Porsche wrung out of the last hapless men who fell into her trap. Daniel doesn’t have a Porsche, not even a Tootsie Toy one, but since Deidre hasn’t been divorced in a few weeks, splitting up the Sobecheck’s would make her feel better about herself. Daniel obsesses on The Journey, The Complication, and the Plunge Into The Abyss, all things so internal to a play you shouldn’t be aware of them – sort of like the lighting, or the air conditioning. As Daniel chases Brenda to salvage what he can, he runs into a very helpful bum (Brain Doherty). Mr. Homeless makes a meager living with a cardboard sign asking “Why?” Why? Because you don’t need an unhappy ending to engage the audience, which is one of Daniels’ writing premises. Daniel gets pointed in a better direction, and the pair reunites and sends Deirdre back where she belongs – cruising the lonely-hearts ads for her next meal. <p>
With Daniel on a permanent talking jag and Brenda worried about here career, the supporting charters are more interesting than the principles. Beside Deirdre and Mr. Homeless, there’s neighbor Max (George San Pedro) who spends almost the entire show sitting politely in the corner, facing the wall. He lives in the next apartment, so it’s not like he’s been bad. Max pops off a few choice comments, and plays the calm point in Daniel’s life. Despite some long monologs dieing for a trim and some very strange lighting cues, there were some interesting folks populating this little show. A happy ending is not necessarily a compromise, and chaos does not necessarily lead to a break up. The key is to filter out the bad advice and listen to the good advice. Easy, no?<p>
Many of the shows described here are at The Orlando Fringe Festival. For locations and show times, please visit <a href=http://www.orlandofringe.com/>www.orlandofringe.com</a>.<p>
Joe’s NYC Bar
Temenos Ensemble Theater
Bring Your Own Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
Take a long skinny space and pack it with tourists – that’s called a waiting line. Throw in some beer and a few actors, and it starts to look like a bar. Well, up north this wouldn’t draw a second glance, but in sunny central Florida where theme is king and no one with a steady job hangs out in a watering hole, it’s a pleasant recollection of days gone past. Behind the bar are Gabriel (Christian Kelty) and his Russian side kick Ivan (John Connon). Gabe has relation problems and an expensive hobby, and Ivan has grammatical problems and a Hot Rod. A Chevy, maybe. As the evening progresses, the usual crew comes in – Dante (Tony Lopez) who is about to do two years of community service up the river, working girl Simone (Michelle Kepner), some guy named Leonard (Chris Pruette) who looks like he was painted onto the end of the bar, and the local mystic “She” (Beth Marshall), the sort of woman who knows the difference between a chakra and a Mandela, and what wine to order with each. You also have actually tourists, people such as yourself, and the interaction between the keepers and the kept adds to the fun. When Satan (Carl Donovan) drops by for a drink after work, he attempts to buy Leonard’s soul for some magic beans, and when that deal falls though, he turns to Gabe, until a feisty patron takes him on in a battle of wits. Well, this guy thought he was funny, anyway. So, for an hour, you get to hang out like a regular guy, and now that actual beer is availble for a small donation, you really can join the spirit of the place. Barkeep! Another round down here!<p>
For more information, please visit <a href=http://www.joesnycbar.com/> www.joesnycbar.com</a><p>
Anthropology
Trained Human Club
Orange Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival
Matt Henry and Randy Cabral</b><p>
Amazing. Even when they drop stuff, they are still amazing. Matt Henry and Randy Cabral have some pretty cool juggling tricks, including the notorious “9 balls between 2 guys” routine. The emphasis is on the unusual, mixing juggling with rhythm and glow sticks to create a captivating show. As a framing device, an overly loud and distorted tale gives some PBS documentary drivel about how trained humans live in the wilds, but if you look past that, you’ll see some amazing stunts. There’s a very impressive routine with Diablo’s (those things that look like yoyo’s you flip around with a rope and some sticks), some hillbilly cigar box juggling, some silliness with a balls rolling off an ironing board, and a hat and cane number that was pretty good. The opening and finale were done with glowing balls and glow sticks on ropes – I think they were technically easy, but extremely impressive. It’s fun show, clean for the entire family, and if you’re like me (I can drop 1 ball simultaneously), you’ll realize that there are some annual skills you will NEVER master.<p>
The Irreverent Police Reverend
Skitz O’Frentics
Purple Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival,/b><p>
For a free show, it’s not that bad, although it probably seemed funnier when they wrote it. Scott Wilde is the Police Reverend, a man with a desire to write screenplays for television. When he’s asked to watch a pusher (Susan Herceg) while officer Greg Neff takes a short walk, she slips something in his coffee that leads to a series of skits. The funniest is the Baboon Butt Ballet, with 3 women dressed in ballerina outfits and baboon butt costumes. They dance to Sugarplum Fairy while sniffing each other’s butts and picking off lice. Funny, but you sort of had to be there. Another silly sketch had two women arguing over where to go to dinner. They start with a sword fight using broomsticks that leads to Indian food, then they Kung Fu around to Taco Bell, and wrap up with some Lesbian Sumo. On a less funny note were some disjointed political commentary that seemed to confuse the Clinton and Bush administrations, and some really embarrassing Harpo Marx as a gynecologist material. Still, the women all came out in skimpy underwear, the show ran fast, and the price was right.<p>
Fairy Tales
Music and Lyrics By Eric Lane Barnes
Directed by Greg Triggs
Chautauqua Productions
Yellow Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
Well, the Gay Pride Movement has staked solid claim to the Barbara Streisand and Bette Middler form of stage musical. And that’s probably just as well, as they have a much better sense of style when it comes to producing that sort of thing. “Fairy Tales” is, with out a doubt, one of the best sung collections of songs I’ve seen in years, covering all the standards styles. Beginning with the up tempo march “Parade”, the entire cast sings about the high point of the alternative social season, the Gay Pride Parade. There’s a song about loss, “Ballad of Tammy Brown” sung by the vaguely Betty Page looking Jennifer Bascom. Then there’s the comic “My Ambition”, about a young mans (Scott Wyrock’s) intention to be first lady some day. Some country comes to New York with “Illinois Fred” as cowboys Jim Howard and Layden Sadecky learning there’s more than one way to ride the mechanical bull. And what gay show would be complete without some guy bashing? Desta Sherman gets a few jabs in with “Gay Guys”. She has a trend in her men that’s not heading where she wants, and there’s no help in sight.
Interestingly, while the show is very up beat and positive, the last portion carries the heavy guilt ridden song cycle “Angel”, “Hummingbird”, and “A few words about Matthew”. These few numbers tell the all too common story of an untimely death and the victim’s family’s denial. It’s well done, but it leaves the entire piece with a vaguely depressing feel, a feeling not really overcome by the rousing reprise finish of “Parade.” This is ultimately a minor complaint, as Fairy Tales is truly well conceived and well performed, and with the partisan audience I saw it with, it was hard to sneak out of the ovations to catch my next show. <p>
Mr. Kolpert
By David Gieselman
Directed by Tommy French
Big Swamp Dog Productions
Red Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
You’re 20-something and a bit bored. What’s a good joke? Ralf (Tommy French) and Sarah (Monica Maldonado) invite a few acquaintances over for an evening of murder and mayhem. Angry young architect Bastian (Nick Vargas) and his wife Edith (Kendra Treunberg) arrive, and Ralf confesses they killed Mr. Kolpert (Bob French), that old boring guy in accounting. Ralf even gets Edith to claim she had a torrid affair in the elevator with the ex Mr. Kolpert. Where’s the body? Why, locked up in that big chest they use a coffin, er coffee table. Pizza is ordered, and a violent fight breaks out. Not over anchovies, but over the key to the chest some other chaotic stuff. Pizza arrives, no one has any money, and who’s that in the back of the fridge? Why, it’s Mr. K, so nice of you to drop by! Another fight erupts, worse than the first, and now Bastian and Pizza man and even Ralf die, leaving the girl to make out at curtain.<p>
Morally ambiguous and extremely violent, “Mr. Kolpert” leaves each charter in their own little capsule of space and time. The murder and its disclosure are poorly motivated, as is Edith’s approval of her husband’s demise. There’s some blather about chaos research, which might some how relate to the chaotic action on stage, but it’s always scary when Theater Majors write about mathematics. Despite these flaws, the show has a binding Mondo Caine fascination. The stage fights are extremely realistic, Sarah’s tight red dress is constantly creeping up, and both Ralf and Bastain are such jerks you are sincerely relieved when they get offed. Mr. Kolpert is a bit dead in his stage presence, but he does come alive to take a nice bow at the end. I don’t know why they did what they did, but it was fascinating to watch.<p>
LaPutain Avec Les Fleurs
Adapted from Henry Miller
Directed by Rocky Hopson
B.O.B. Theatrical Palindrome
Green Venue
Orlando Fringe</b><p>
Just being good at something doesn’t make you happy, at least not automatically. Baptiste (Aaron Wiederspahn) is France’s funniest clown. But he’s tired of being funny, and leaves to find something new – sort of a mid-career crisis. Abandoning the only world he knows and the Circus Girl (Cindy Pearlman) who loves him, he heads to Paris. There he finds the change he wants – a whore on the streets of Paris. They both agree they do the same job. They make people happy for money. Marriage is in the future, along with diapers and dishes. After a few years of wedded abyss, he again tires and drifts back to the circus, aided and a betted by a cardboard taxi and the same friendly driver (Richard Paul) who took him away to begin with. He then drifts back to the stage, eventually returning to stardom in place of his now deceased friend Maurice.
With a wheezy and out of tune band reminiscent of a 1950’s film set in France, he story is charming and gentle. Even with a painted faces and a circus backdrop, this is neither a clown show nor a mine show. Baptiste is a man unhappy with his place in life, searching for something new. Eventually he realizes that happiness is in your mind, and not in a specific location or specific job. Will you find happiness in the Green Venue? Perhaps for an hour or so, which is not a bad trade for your money. Bon soir!<p>
Mission Improvable
Yellow Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
Well, of course improv isn’t always the same – that’s sort of the point, isn’t it? But, with this crew, it’s even more different each time – sort of a Chicago Cross Jostle of humor. These 5 guys specializing the difficult “Long Form” Improv, which basically means if they lose the humor thread, the audience is really stuck. Fortunate, Mission Improvable can’t spell ‘stuck.’ Today’s show featured a piece called “The Living Room”, a not very promising sounding concept wherein the company sits around toying with a theme, and members jump up and act out various short pieces. Tonight we explore “relationships”, a sort of rock simple Improv suggestion. We all have relationships of so many kinds, the field is much more amendable to Improv than, say, Quantum Chromodynamics. What was mined form this vein? How about the Fuck500, one of the major sports that just isn’t receiving the sort of ESPN2 coverage it deserves. Or the convention that men fix things, but sometimes they get lost in the sink, where they find dad and gramps. Or a demonstration on how NOT to paint the walls. Brilliant stuff, with very little filler.
When the Living Room is too cluttered with empty pizza boxes and metaphors to go on, MI wraps up with a quick Two Minutes Challenge. The guys take turns trying to tell a story about ants, and interruptions are allowed. The last man standing wins some trifle, like an ill fitting t-shirt or a fringe buck or two. By the end, the MI teams put over another high-energy hour that leaves the audience wetting their pants. At least we know the audience is still getting enough fluids.<p>
Invocation of My Demon Penguin
Written and Directed by Sean Keohane
Starring Sean Keohane, Scott Silson, Jeff Conover
Orlando Furioso
Orange Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
Are TV psychics really in touch with the dead, or are they just blowing smoke out their butt? Do pigs fart petunias? Trust me. John Edwards (Keohane) has such a job, and recommends that Susan Winkleman (Kathleen Kaplan) just ignore that whole messy issue of her husband’s mysterious death. That is, until Skip Winkleman (Tony Giordano) dresses as Tony the Tiger and puts a slug in Edwards and send him to limbo, where a giant puppet called Dr. Bear, the Unenlightened and Collector of Souls (Silson, voice by Conover) reads him his rights. But, there is a minor paper work problem – instead of Edwards, Bear was supposed to pick up Geraldo Rivera. Edwards files a complaint, and the sutra penguins that rule the universe send him back to face the wiles of Nurse Belle (Hollie Winard) and a foot fetish dream date with Susan. And then, the lumpier members of the cast take off their clothes.
Is this gratuitous nudity? You bet your hiney. The whole show is a sort of running monologue of Fringe in-jokes that you need to have seen about 30 shows this week to appreciate. Some of the jokes work, but not all of them. The puppet work is fine, and I still like Dr, Bear, although he doesn’t really get to do very much interesting. There’s not all that much nudity on stage this year, and if your counting boobs and peckers this will give you a big boost in you total, but that’s a fetish for the specialist. This show won’t suck the soul out of you, but it is a bit clubby for the uninitiated.
Farrago
By Todd Kimbro, John Valines III and Peter Hurtgen Jr.
Directed by John Valines III
Purple Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
This is a little complicated, but certainly worth working through. You’ve got Elaine (Megan Whyte), a rising pop start with a soundman Todd (Don Fowler) as a hubby. She has scary fans, like Serenity (Janine Klein) and here 3 cats. Cats are Serenity’s repulser screen, keeping most men at bay. Sometimes one wanders through and knocks her up, like loser Mike (Mike Marinaccio). While gestating, she waits tables at a bar inhabited by Elaine and her close friend, psychiatrist Dr. Jim (Timothy Williams). One of his patients is the orangutan toting Steve (Marinaccio again) who harbors visions of killing his father ever since his baby brother drown. When his insurance runs out, Dr. Jim takes him in as a boy toy until he gets a date with Serenity via a video dating service, thus allowing him to reclaim his internal personality and admit he’s not gay. He was just doing what he thought Dr. Jim wanted.<p>
Simple enough, right? Well, sure, until it’s sliced and diced into a zillion little vignettes with the cast each playing a main character and several minors. When not on stage or changing costumes, extra staff is parked on some uncomfortable chairs along the side. Since scenes rarely last more than few minutes, it’s a constant swirl of motion, yet there are never issues about who is who right now. The editing is tight and the dialog hysterical, with no slow spots except for the bracketing speeches by Dr. Jim. An absolutely brilliant piece has Williams as a cat convincing Marinaccio that he’s not needed in the household, and it takes only a small display of raw kitty power to convince him to leave before anything like a date occurs. The same cats attack Todd a bit later, doing all the disgusting things cats do – shedding, licking, and rubbing their butt in your face. This show is unquestioned the funniest thing going this week, and when Todd successfully offers sex for beer, you’ll know you’ve found dating heaven. Even poor Steve with all his head shrink fodder finds someone to be with. His sexual humiliation is just about equal to Serenity’s three cats, and that makes it movie and a dinner time. The message? Crazy people CAN over come cats and still find sexual partners.<p>
Luv
By Murray Segal
Directed by Keisha Boyd
Presented by The Loop
Red Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
You’ve seen the poster – some hot babe in a skimpy outfit and the message “No matter how good she looks, somewhere, somebody is tired of her baloney.” And it’s so true – a person who makes you all squishy inside might still be hanging around a few years later when the romance is gone, but the bills remain. Scrawny Milt Manville (Jason Flora) has tired of his wife Ellen (Tracy Makens) and fallen for the scrumptious Laura. He’s got plans for both, but then he runs into his old buddy Harry Berlin (Kareem Bandealy) whose about to take the big plunge. It’s a plunge off a bridge, but Milt convinces him to make it matrimony with Ellen, which makes everyone happy for the first act. In the second act, everyone’s unhappy again, so it’s musical beds once more, proving a number of adages such as “You don’t know what you’ve got till its gone” and “The women are always sexier on the other side of the fence.”<p>
While the plot is about romance and commitment, the play itself is about exaggerated action. All charters are in motion at all times, even when standing still. Both Flora and Bandealy are extended rubbery sorts of guys who constantly interpenetrate each other’s personal spaces. Ellen comes out all prim and proper, only to be stripped of dignity and most of her nicer exterior clothing items, and receives one of the longer gropes in this years festival. It’s “Relationship in a blender”, fun and funny and not serious enough to drag you down into the morass of your miserable love life.<p>
Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up in public. <p>
The Death and Resurrection of Sherlock Holmes
By Al Arasim and Colin R Grimes
Directed by Al Arasim
Baker Street Players
Green Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
Ah ha! The game’s a foot once more! It’s 1890 something and the world is aglow with the possibility of progress and the application of Scientific Method to every problem at hand. Utilitarianism has run amok. Our fictional friends Holmes (Grimes) and Watson (Arasim) operate in a sort of police demimonde – not exactly sworn officers of the law, but supporting Scotland Yard as proto-superhero and amusing sidekick. Holmes has the coke habit under control and is in hot pursuit of the evil Dr. Moriarity. Moriarity’s crimes are multitudinous, yet unnamed. Perhaps he snatches babies, sells cocaine (no, legal at the time), or perhaps just feeds the meters down on Regent’s street. Whatever he did, he did it evilly and Holmes is sworn to get him tonight. In a cloud of first person action and third person narration, the pair makes a mysterious departure for the continent. The fuzz might pick up Moriarity’s gang, but Moriarity himself follows the pair thought France in a series of maneuvers that might seem preposterous in a 1930’s serial. At a dangerous waterfall in the Alps, they do mortal battle. Is this end for Homes? Is Moriarity really dead? Will Watson have enough brandy to finish his memoirs? Tune in and find out!<p>
The story is a bit unlikely, although it comes pretty much from the hand of A. Conan Doyle himself. Both charters look and act the parts with a skill that borders on obsession, and there’s no lack of forward motion in the show. But I found Holmes’ enmity toward Moriarity a bit flat – I really want to find out something, anything that Moriarity did that was evil. Sure, he’s a sallow Ph.D in Mathematics with a criminal streak, but I’d like to know just how he offended society enough to deserve a private vengeance by the dynamic duo of Baker Street. There’s a great feeling in killing of a bad guy, but here it’s missing because deep down, Moriarty was sentenced with out Trail by Audience, as any good villain deserves.<p>
This House is on Fire
and Antonio and Clara
By Jack McGrath and Terry McMurray
Playwrights Round Table
Purple Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
Here are two independent plays for the price of one – let’s take a gander:
First we see “Antonio & Clara,” a simple linear drama about a couple with a simple linear problem. A rather stiff Anthony Martin (John Martinez, Jr.) abandons his Italian roots and the tough guy name of Tony Marcillano to marry Clara (Colleen Kavanaugh). After 7 years of trial and error, they finally start a pregnancy, only to have it end intentionally. Why? Anthony’s Boss has been padding around, and neither wants this rapist’s child. With no recourse to the police and no way to handle this himself, Anthony must call on the old Tony’s connections to right this wrong, Italian style. Terse and well, paced, A&C looks like it might be part of a larger work, or a simple experiment in character and situation. Everything is clear and straightforward, taking the viewer from point A to Point B directly. A few items are telegraphed, but none to the detriment of this little item’s impact.
“This House on Fire” is a bit more abstracted and considerably longer. Rather than real people on stage, we have a set of characters that exist only in the mind of the playwright. Valerie (Valerie Toth Grant) and Simon (Simon Needham) are rehearsing a bad vaudeville act, apparently in the author’s head. After a few false starts, the unseen director walks away, leaving the cast to dig out an old script from a different play and proceed to put it on stage. Without the process of writing and producing a play, these people wink out of existence just like the folks you only see at work. Since neither play is complete, and the characters have no real ability to modify the world or situations they are trapped in, an endless sort of loop appears. Adding to the conflict is Christine (Christine Seymour), a set dresser with dreams of becoming and actor or director. As the works teeter between the original work and a family intense drama of a woman abandoning her family, you rock back and forth as the writer debate whether to finish either play, or abandon them and the hapless characters to the recycle bin of writers block.<p>
As lost paper-thin people in another man’s mind, the crew does a good job of drawing you in to their own terror at being left to fade. They do their level best to fan the spark of the story, engaging in violent confrontations and rewrites of their own. A bit long and packed with Jack McGrath references, it’s an enjoyable insiders joke that the whole family can enjoy. There is hope that springs eternal in the protagonist’s breast, and it does find succor in this production.<p>
Waiting For Napoleon
By Eric Pinder
Directed by Ray Hatch
Hippity Doo Productions
Purple Venue
Orlando Fringe</b><p>
Full frontal male nudity AND tap dancing, all in a one-man show! Talk about versatile! Pinder has one of those crappy theme jobs at one of the lesser-known area attractions, Literary World. I thinks it’s behind Barnes and Nobel, near the Jesusdrome, but I’ve never been. Even though the pay is bad and the working conditions sub-happy, it is an acting job and he will have chance to stretch as he rolls out a one man show of War and Peace. Budgets are low, and his venue (you’d call it a theater, but he IS an actor) has moved to the Old Man And The Seafood restaurant, causing him to ditch a few of his favorite characters, like “Tit, the groomsman”. Still, its work, so he’s thankful as the show rehearses. Things are jelling like week old milk as Pinder delves into motivations of the characters, the set dresser, and that weird woman who does all the technical stuff. Eventual he conquers his inner demons, and he’s ready to perform for tired tourists who would just as soon he be quite. But, as long as they don’t throw sharp stuff, he’s happy.
Pinder is a versatile guy, genitalia and all. He does a great Gilbert and Sullivan version of the War and Peace plot, which is much more satisfying than even the Cliffs notes. All those Russian names sound the same, and I admit I never got beyond page 30 of anything Tolstoy or Dostoevsky ever wrote. Since none of you have either, that makes this a good way to bluff your way around the book club if you need to. The show will appeal most to those who have first hand knowledge of Themeing, but it’s funny and sprightly and just racy enough to keep out the prudes.<p>
A Little Crazy
By Joseph Reed Hayes
Directed by Paula Rossman
Starring Paul Wegman and Matt Curless
Blue Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
“By the way, I’m dying.” Well, we all are, ultimately, but for Avram Mordecai Saltzman (Wegman), the process s a bit more immanent. His liver is not what it used to be, and after 84 years, who’s is? Rather than sweat away in alien south Florida, he’s elected to spend his last few months as a nudge to his favorite nephew Chaim (Curless) in New York. Chaim has ditched as much of his Jewish roots as a possible under his health insurance, and even become Harry Bronski. Uncle Ave takes over the bedroom, the easy chair, and most of Harry’s life, such as it is. Completely absorbed in his job, he has little time to date, and is in no danger of producing the greatest prize in the Jewish world – grandchildren. Uncle Ave takes up two great causes – yentl to Harry, arranging a relation ship with the mysterious Annie, and teaching him to be a good Jewish storyteller. By the time Ave passes away, a little progress is made – a date looms, and Harry is starring, just barely, to tell good stories.
There’s no better comedian than a skeptical Jewish ancestor, and Wegman rolls out the stream of stories in the script with relish. We also discover that his teeth actually come out, which is one of those dumb things that always impresses you when your 6. Curless is a great foil even he’s not the most Yiddisher bubelah to cross the stage in Orlando. It’s a sweet, funny story, lacking any malice, and not that much translation is needed for the goyim. Mazeltov!<p>
Street Seuss Deuce
By David McConnell
Pimpin’ Catnip Productions
Green Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><P>
Ahem. Yo! Homey! Watcha hanging? Ok, I’m way to white to do this urban hip-hop thing, but that’s not true for MC Dave. In a world where unmentionable obscenities have become terms of endearment, the words that Theo Geisel (Dr. Seuss) wrote must change as well, lest they become as incomprehensible to our children as Shakespeare. The issues are the same – pollution, racism, war, growing up, but here the candy floss land of Whoville become the means streets of West Orlando under the rewrite genius of McConnell. Dressed in a wife beater and some of those shoes with a million little patch doodads, his raucous and obscene updates of children’s stories brought down the house. Despite a few preachy moments, there was non-stop laughter as the battle to decide “Booty Side Up” or “Booty Side Down” question played out on stage. You might recall this as the “Butter Battle Book” as McConnell drags audience members on stage. It’s democratic – even the guy from the other paper in town got to take a shot at Mr. Lincoln as this critical recreational snacking issue was settled once again. The less well known “McElligots Pool “ turns into a cautionary tale of fishing for a date in the wrong bar, but still finding what you need, and “Are You My Mother?” became the coarse but silly “Who’s Your Daddy, Bitch?” The language was strong, but McConnell’s stage Mom beat him soundly with a spatula, and his real mom looked on proudly from the audience. Should you se this show? Most certainly. But guys, be warned – those who sit it the front row may find out just how they hang, size wise, and it may not be a point of pride.
SadoJudaism
By Ivor Dembina
Orange Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
Imagine a rumpled Elvis Costello, complete with red shoes. Now imagine that he’s Jewish and like a nice spanking by prostitutes. Now imaging yourself seated in font of him with 50 humans whom you’ll never see again. Now your getting close to this odd stand up comics routine about Judaism and a personal fetish you may or may not share. Yes, it’s reverse group therapy – you’re the analyst sitting comfortably while he tells you all about this mother and sexual desires and a few jokes that sometime click and sometimes fade. Of course, you should respect a person willing to bare his soul on stage for much less money than the Jerry Springer organization will front. And honesty about sex is a good thing. But prostitutes, like haberdashers, are a tough field for comedy, even when ploughed by a skilled Jewish comedian tackles them. Sure, you’ll pick up a few negation tips, and maybe a few pointer s on how to dress for a fetish party, but unless you share his gefilte fetish (he said it, not me) it’s a bit slow for stand up.<p>
Mr. Dembina has a web site at <a href= http://www.thinkbeforeyoulaugh.com/> http://www.thinkbeforeyoulaugh.com/ </a> for your viewing pleasure. <p>
Step On A Crack
By Sussan Zeder
Directed by Beth Marshall
Kids Fringe Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
Lets look at this children play from a Personality Model point of view. We’ll use the DISC model, which is simpler than a full Meyers Briggs. Start with little Ellie (Chelsea Adams), 12 years old and an obvious Directive type. You’d call her bossy, but she’s really a natural leader, uninterested in details, but used to giving orders. Her mom died when she was 4, and Daddy Max (Peter Hurtgen) raised her. He’s an Interactive type – always ready to do something fun like go bowling or whip out some knock knock jokes. You’d consider him a fun dad and a natural salesman. But, after a few years, he has physical needs that can’t be met by Ellie, and he hooks up with Lucille (Tatum De Roeck), making her the evil stepmother to Ellie. Lucille is interested in harmony at all costs – we would classify her as a Steady, and you would regard her as your best employee. She will do anything, take on any burden, as long as no one raises his or her voice. Off on the side is the final personality type, Ellie’s evil conscience (Anneli Curnock), alternate narrating the play and egging Ellie on with a string of seeming logical conclusions that lead to perdition. She’s what is known as a Cautious (or Analytical) type. If she worked for you, you would consider her a pain in the butt. <p>
So here’s the story – Ellie feels cheated because her dad has taken a new emotional partner, and there relation has changed from that of approximate equals, to that of a more traditional parent / child role. Ellie digs in and a resists, wishing away her burdensome new mother and generally making life hell for those around her. Even the act of going for ice cream shifts from a fun evening to a bloody battle. Ellie has some support, as well, from her imaginary friends Frisbee (Todd Kimbro) and Lana (Adonna Niosi). They do pretty much what she wants (and isn’t that why we all hang with imaginary friends?), but none of it helps. Ellie is now alone, separated from her dad, and rebuffing Lucille until Lucille tosses in the towel. It’s a victory for Ellie, but Pyrrhic, and now faced with complete abandonment, she final accepts the proffered love her new stepmother offers.
Heavy, eh? Not when you’re sitting through it. The analysis is more in my mind that the audiences, and this Cinderella Tale Release 2.1 is very close to the sad reality many children face – one parent is gone, a new one is on the scene, and a vicious power struggle ensues. With everyone’s motivations and actions clearly explained for the younger viewer, “Step on a Crack” may well help some children come to a better relation with a new parent, or keep mommy 2 from actually strangling the little dear. Even if it doesn’t, the situations resonate with just about every one, and the two imaginary friends look and act really cool. It’s not Pinter, but it is a sharp tale of real situations, pointing toward a happier ending.<p>
Tales of the Mundane
By Caroline Ross
Directed by Donna Lee Betz
Blue Venue
Orlando Fringe</b><p>
Ok, I’m really from Wisconsin, and while I’ve not had the pleasure of visiting Climax, I’ve drunk cheap beer in Clinton and Crivitz and Cudahy, and I’ve been to places like the little bar Burlene Hodges (Ross) opened in her basement. With her husband a post stroke drooler, she needs the money and the company from the ‘Hodge Podge’ to keep rolling on. Tonight the regulars check in and start drinking heavily – Eli (Robert Reich) and his adoptive son Teddy (Cliff McCloe) and the strangely coherent alcoholic Junior (Wes Hoagland) begin the festivities. Later on feisty Momma (Great Hanley) and Burlene’s evil twin Wylene (Rene Garvey) come in and kvetch at each other till you wish one of them would go out and tip over a cow. As the regulars get drunker and drunker, bad jokes and bad karaoke fill the venue. And, after a while, the O’Doul’s is gone, the drunks stagger out to find their cars, and Junior sobers up enough to steal a kiss from Burlene.
The problem with this show is it’s too authentic. I’ve spent many a night like this till I saved up car fare to head for palm trees, and if your drunk on your ass, it’s more fun than, uhmm, studying. But if your stone cold sober and the beer tents 5 block away, it takes on a different feel, more like actully being in Wisconsin AND being sober. Free cheese is not enough to save this bar crawl.<p>
Dr. Piranha’s Super SciFi Theater
By Rory Penland
Purple Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
Sci-fi is such a fertile field for humor. The line between the serious and the absurd is so nebulous that the slightest shift in perspective can slide you from wonderment to unintentional amusement. The thrust of Dr. August Piranha’s experiment heads in that direction, but then careens up against the wall of humorous despair. With wonderful musical accompaniment (Rooney LaPlante) and superb costumes, the flaws in this show orbit Starbase Uneven Writing. There are some genuinely funny pieces, such as the Blood Red Riding Hood puppet theater, with ounces of spurting blood. I have it on good authority vomit spewing is normally involved, but someone forgot to bring the vomit. But that’s OK; perhaps you’ll be luckier. Read by Sydney Dragon as Steven King, the offhand warning about the splatter zone caused a large portion of the audience scurry like the cockroaches they were to the cover of the back row. Another successful piece had Andrew Lloyd Webber redoing Friday the 13th, with a couple of clever and well-arranged Phantom of the Opera and Jesus Christ Superstar tunes, set to new lyrics.
In a more unstable orbit we find a Terminator parody, where Teresa Castillo fights a guerilla ware, blowing up the evil industrial bases of America until a Terminator is sent back to stop her. Since she destroyed the source of spare parts, he isn’t very resilient, and another follows close on. Clever concept, but it could be a lot tighter. A Long Scooby Doo skit appears near the end. While it looks good, the characters mostly run around in circles chased by a ghost in a mask. I’m not saying the original was any great shakes, but this didn’t really improve on the topic.
One particular skit was in terminal reentry. A number of decrepit superheroes get together for a reunion: Wonder Woman is a single mom, Green Lantern is a drunk, Aquaman has come out of the closet, and there are times when the cast seems to forget they have lines. Now THIS was scary.
Sci-Fi Theater is a show that is not without merit, but it is a very uneven collection of material executed by a competent cast with good support. Set you phaser on skeptical.<p>
If Americans Are So Bad, Get Your Hand Off My Knee
By Carolyn Cohagan
Directed By Peter Bramley
Pink Venue
Orlando Fringe</b><p>
It’s the year of the single performer show, and this is one gentlest of this year’s crop. Carolyn Cohagan is on a quest. Like so many Americans, she realized she has an ethnic heritage, and it might be deeper than calling herself “Texan.” She sets out to do 2 things – find out where “Cohagen” came from, and what it means to be an American. The process took several years, and involved interviewing an extended family, other Americans, and many foreign residents and visitors. All of this is combined with foam props and snippets of recoding to assemble a one-woman performance that attempt to summarize a large, complex, and conflicting nation. Are we optimistic or overbearing? Greedy or charitable? Tolerant or Racist? Sugar or Sweet-N-Low? Her extended clan goes back a long way, with at least peripheral connections to many a grammar school theme papers. The people she interviews and recreates show that perhaps there is no one person who defines America, except possible Doris Day. I don’t know I agree, but, then, I too an American, so I get an opinion as well. I prefer Joan Jett.<p>
On the sunny Florida day I saw the show, the air conditioning was set on Minot, but the show was worthwhile despite the shivers. It’s a funny and occasionally moving tale, perfect for the mood we find ourselves in this year. There are some answers, such as “Cohagan is Irish” and “ I get paid to wear foam hats”, but these are her answers. They aren’t yours, but if you think about it a while, you’ll come up with your own. Mine? “I’m glad we let the German brewers in” and “There’s nothing like making up stuff that people can’t prove is false.” Try it yourself.<p>
True Love
By Heather McGraw
Eccentric Ladies’ Tea, Militia and Quilting Bee
Green Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
Minimalism.
Dialog, direction: fifty words each.
Trios rearrange: thrice.
Good. <p>
80 Minutes and 7 Bucks You’ll Get Back
Written by Shawn Stanton, John Ragusa, and Dennis Forza Jr.
Artist Reparatory Theater
Red Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
It’s the Odd Couple, but with crappier jobs. Neil (Shawn Rotond) worked as a pet mortician until the day they ask him to embalm a sperm whale and an ant farm. Samuel (Brian Alexander) works in a sperm bank when not mincing around in the gayest pair of Daisy Dukes in Orlando. Neil’s real training is as a photographer, and Samuel (not ‘Sam’, but ‘Sam-you-el’, please) is a pretty decent cook, so they try catering as a way to pick up beer money and pay the rent. Their first gig? Stage a fake wedding for Mafioso Lamont Sanford (Robert Herrle) and his alcoholic wife Tootie (Carrie Curtis). It’s to deflect a mob assassin, so it doesn’t have to be good, but it better be quick. Samuel and Neil step up to the challenge, supplying a tube of Pringles and a few airline miniatures for a bar. A wedding singer (Steve Kittendorf) and some homeless people are recruited to fill the pews, and it’s show time! The assassin is cleverly lurking in the audience, and it takes a stobe light gunfire sequence and a monologue to bring him to his knees. <p>
All well and fine, and as your 70 minutes slip away you will find something to love and something to hate. The undoubted star was Lamont with his Don Rickles delivery, gold chains, and Las Vegas style suntan. A close second was Italian Princess Tootie, who wore a dress so tight you could read the “Dry Clean Only” instructions on her undies. They were a perfect pair of Italian assholes, a status enhanced by harassing the audience in the ticket line. Neil and Samuel created a nice tension as two guys who like each other, but aren’t likely to date. There was quite a lot of gratuitous sperm consumption, and inexplicably, a prostitute repeatedly crosses the stage to spit up more sperm. Certainly sperm is an important piece of life, but it wasn’t THAT critical to the plot. But, beside a few slow spots that seemed to serve meeting the runtime, “80 Minutes” is a raucous and obscene bit of fun in the classic Fringe Spirit, and not a bad way to piss away an 8 spot.<p>
Captain Goodness vs. the Injustice League
By Jay Hopkins and John Valines III
Red Venue
Orlando Fringe</b><P>
Is it still Improv if the audience won’t give decent hints? Well, real troupers plow through minor issues of that sort and still create comic mayhem on stage. As tonight’s adventure opens, Detective Dan Jurious (Hopkins) works the audience, warning us to beware of and report any criminal activity. One particular citizen did see something, and when hauled up on stage to help the case, provided his occupation, hobby, and the other sorts of info a Sak Detective might require. It seems the Injustice League, led by that old Mr. Nefarious (Rene Ruiz) was up to something again. Maxine Factor (Meghan White) and Big Debby (Anitra Prichard) and even Remote Control (Brendan Jennings) were along to conquer the world, each in their own nefarious way. It was up to Jurious and Uber-handsome Captain Goodness (Jeremy James, play his theme music now, thank you) to solve the crime. With evidence stolen, plodding cop work was not enough – this was a job that called for leotards, spandex, AND a serious chin dimple. <p>
And an exciting job it was. With running, jumping, and stage fighting that almost left Nefarious’ side kick jimmy (Paul Sperrazza) in traction, the citizen selected form the audience had a lot more to do with this show than most. Besides standing still in the middle of one of a fight (not easy for the paying customer), he was subjected to special treatment by nurses Michelle Mailhot and Shalisha James, and had to drink a dose of something that looked suspisiously like Robitussen. Of particular interest were this citizen’s occupation (“I really can’t talk about it”) and his hobby (“cat strangling” – I swear, ask the Sak staff). While these did present a challenge to the cast, it was nothing in the long run as this show left he audience screaming in hysteria as the mystery unfolded. That’s the great thing about super heroes – as long as you don’t take them to seriously, they are always a hoot. At last count, this is still the funniest show at Fringe, and if you don’t believe me, I’ll send citizen Mr. SuperMike over to beat you up. And be warned – he know how to wear Spandex.<p>
On The Midway
Voci Dance Company
Orange Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
Some one asked me “So, what’s the meaning of this dance? Is there some story they’re trying to tell?” Beats me. All I know is the folks in Voci are the healthiest, most supple, and more energetic people I ever run into. For about an hour they bend, run and bounce off one another, and usually at speeds that are frightening to watch, all in the pursuit of movement as art. The title piece “On the Midway” brings the action of a carnival on to the performance floor as an oddly symmetric dervish dance. Dressed in vaguely Chinese robes and pantaloons, their speed is fast enough to put a noticeable breeze in the second row. Follow this with a sexy take on the old Brubeck Classic “Take Five”, illustrated with 5 women moving in pentagrams of motion, doing the sort of dance that definitely does NOT indicate a relaxing break in a musicians career.
One of the joys of Voci is there creative selection of music for their dance. Tunes by Amy Steinberg and Tool show that “Modern” dance can actually be done to identifiable tunes – flittering New Age music is NOT a legal requirement. One piece in particular “I Can See Clearly”, a reprise from last years show, shows that explicit humor is permitted as well – a blind woman is led on stage with here cane for just a minute or two, only to burst into on of those hugely choreographed dance numbers one remembers from the 1930’s. With the entire troupe joining her, canes fly and the blind can see, even if only thought touch. As the number fades, her companion returns, and perhaps noting the slightest bit of sweat on her brow, innocently inquires if anything happened while he was gone. Nothing, no nothing, of course not. Wink wink, nod nod. Nothing at all.
Killing Lincoln
By Amy Russel
Directed by Eric Ting
Starring Terry Weber
Orange Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
Let’s consider what Lincoln DID think of that play. Assume for a moment that J.W. Booth (Weber) doesn’t shoot Lincoln, but rather puts up a one-man show about the life and times of Honest Abe, ending with the political message “Sic Semper Tyrannus.” Mixing Shakespearean diatribes and hand puppets, rough hewn humor and stage fright, the lone Weber creates a tightly meshed matrix of the personalities that defined Lincoln. There’s a diminutive Douglas, a recalcitrant McClellan, his first ex-girlfriend from hell, even the slightly unstable Mary Todd. Tying them together is an internal =dialog between Booth and his over-inflected stage manager. As Lincoln progresses from hick intellectual to disinterested politician to the man we see on the cents in our pockets, we see his internal motivation build as a divine agent sent by the Almighty to change the world, somehow, someway. That he does, as the changes near destroy the country as well as himself.<p>
With well over a dozen players in this one-man stream of conscious play, Weber keeps then separate in a clean and easy style. The hand puppets are a bit below the standards one would expect of Booth, but not so hokey as to damage the performance. Bible verses are quoted in a dramatic manner, with a sort of hia-karate sound effect to indicate the supernatural motivation. While Lincoln’s states his business is to serve the law, and not morality, his office was certainly the watershed that gave the new country a moral founding, supported by rather than ignorant of moral principles. While we still debate the details, it’s a hell of an accomplishment.<p>
Half-Hanged Mary
Adapted and Directed by Holly Riggs
Starring Holly Riggs
Pink Venue, Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
Well, death was never intended to be pleasant, and some times the road to it is even worse than the event itself. Or so I’ve heard. A long time ago, in a village not so far away, the public suffered from the same hysterias it always has. But rather than lining up for special dolls at Wal-Mart or tickets to a movie, they decided that some of their own were witches, and hung them out to die. Hanging tends to be fatal, but these people were rank amateurs and rather than tie a proper noose, they did a sort of granny knot deal that I might use to tie my trunk down. Normally, all this does is lead to a slow painful strangulation rather than the quicker broken neck. Sometime, as in the case of Mary Webster (Riggs), it can mean a prolonged stay of execution, as she hung for 12 hours until they cut here down.<p>
What were they thinking? More importantly, what was SHE thinking, literally twisting in the breeze as she awaited death or resurrection or damnation? Argue with God? Reject Him? Appeal to Him? Cry? Seek an internal resolution to your pain? As Mary hangs, she imagines a long string of prose poems, wishes and prayers, touching yet never as dark as the black set and costume might suggest. Shorter than expected, certainly in comparison to her 12 hour ordeal, Half Hanged Mary has a distant, intellectual feel to the subject matter, which is not a bad thing considering the gruesomeness. More atmospheric than didactic, it regards a woman’s own story in a harsh and superstitious world, and concludes you can’t be hung twice for the same crime, a conclusion more liberating than you might guess.<p>
Sloth
Franco Productions
Starring Francisco Laboy
Pink Venue
Orlando fringe Festival</b><p>
Sloth. Slllooottthhhh. Sllllooootttthhhh. God, I love that word. Not my favorite sin, but my favorite word, and star (in animal form) of this silly little improv movie review. Using a state grant of $3 million, Director Gaga (Charles Frierman) presents cuts from a movie he shot with stock characters against a stock plot that looks a bit closer to Hitchcock’s Psycho than most copywrite laws allow. A number of too-silly-for prime-time scenes ensue, populated with a nauseatingly sweet girl, a gay prospector, and a has-been hand towel model. Tying all this together is the evil, viscous sloth (Laboy) who’s fatal menacing stalk leads to death and subsequent carnivorous digestion of the cast and plot. Oh the horror. Oh the humanity. Oh watch out for the window that Sloth obsessively climbs through. Beware the Sloth.
A bit slow occasionally, Sloth himself is brilliant, if a bit speedy for the role. It’s a high concept comedy, with sloth ripping out (well, more a slow tear) hearts and brains and shooting 3-pointers with them. The movie plot is so bad they wouldn’t take it at FFF this year, but the Bad Film vehicle is only a loose framework to hang the real silliness on. Sloth is cute, but please don’t run him over in the parking lot.<p>
Molly
Adapted from James Joyce by Peter McGarry
Starring Joanne Haydock
Pink Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
You’ve all read Joyce’s Ulysses, right? Or the Cliff notes? Rented the DVD? Played Leopold Blum in some RPG site? Geez. Well, this is the last chapter of this classic of Irish fornication, rendered into a fairly cohesive story by McGarry. Molly Blum’s husband has finally come to bed at 2 am, dead drunk or at least sound enough asleep that Molly can rant and rave about sex, men, and menses. It’s a long, Irish rant, and it summarily comes down to the standard complaints – men are scum, they only have one thing on their minds, and there’s nothing like a good orgasm, no matter how you come by it. Molly has just had a bit of fun with Hugh “Blazes Boiling”, a man with a penis that doubles as a crow bar. He must eat a LOT of oysters. Hubby Leopold, the half Jewish Irishman (talk about cultural baggage…) still loves her, or at least her underwear, and has one of those fascinations with breasts and bums that makes all men so lovable to the opposite sex. He treats her like, well, not like crap, but like a wife of more than a few years, and as she converges on 33 and he tackles 40, her views on sex and love are shifting. Would hormones help? I assure you they would, if only they were available in 1904 in a Dublin that sweats poverty like a hod carrier sweats stout.
For about an hour, Haydock keeps up a steady monologue that captures on stage the feeling of the text, as best I can discern it myself, since I could never read more than about two pages of Joyce without crossing my eyes. It’s funny and insightful, but also tells the correct use of a chamber pot, along with musical commentary on what key to pee in to be discrete. A bit adult here and there, it’s really nothing too rough by today’s standards, although I could see how frank discussion of ass kissing and masturbation might have caused some problems on the book tour circuit when this first came out. Haydock’s character still exudes sex, even as her married life fades from passion into a more laundry oriented relation. Theirs is the sort of relation any of you may find yourself in, if you haven’t gotten there already, and this version is so much easier to follow.<p>
General Sherman Burns In Hell
By Ron Ross Ross
Pink Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><P>
War is, in fact, Hell, even if you only have to watch the remote control video version served up on CNN these days. Back when the only way to really experience it was to go get your guts shot out, General Wm Sherman was on of it’s finest practitioners. Clad in a rumpled greatcoat slept on by a German Shepard, he’s come up from brunch with Satan to give a little talk to us cadets at the US Military Academy. Mostly biographical, partly strategic, he comes across that great gulf from hell to warn us about complacency. Complacency in the face of terror, and complacency in the perhaps mistaken belief we will never have to suffer great casualties in war again. For our edification, he recreates some of the key battles he participated in, battles more noteworthy for mutual stupidity on both sides than brilliance of maneuver. It’s a dark, stormy tale, lit by lightning flashes of humor evoking nervous laughter in an uncomfortable audience.
Ross’s Sherman is a sweating, nervous charter, racked by guilt, but not the guilt for which most of the South hates him to this day. While he scorched the earth from Chattanooga to Atlanta to Savanna and back, all this was warfare as it has been fought for millennia. While this offends the genteel sensibilities of the slave owners and their banker descendents, it’s not his true sin, at least as far as Ross and Satan are concerned. His real sin is the failure to discipline subordinates when they allowed black camp followers to be massacred by approaching Southern forces, and toasting the man who allowed it. The slave was not a person but and abstraction – free them, certainly, but please don’t leave them hanging around. We may have shifted a bit from that position, but in Sherman’s world, he realizes the disjunction between the ideals of the Northern position and reality, and when presented with the chance to right the wrong he himself allowed, he failed. For that, he bares the burden of eternal torment, and not for a bloody victory.
Crane River
Blue Ibis Troupe
Orange Venue
Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>
It’s a quiet day out on the river as the Mother Goddess wake the flitty little bird life along the river. With moths on each finger, and a large crane shambling over the waters, there’s a peaceful feeling pervading the theater, a feeling enhanced by the mysterious sounds of achromatic music mixed with the sound track from one of those late night nature shows on Discovery Channel. But wait! What’s this? Why it’s a frog, and as he nervously waits for something to happened, Mother Goddess approaches and offers him middle class civility – a nice Fathers’ day tie, a hat and easy chair, perhaps even the chance to watch himself on channel 30. But the large crane will have none of that – Crane approaches Frog, opens him up and tears out that soulless soul that now infests his heart. “Come back! Come back with me to Crane Island! Be what you should be, not what someone makes you!” They return to Crane Island, a largish object that looks quite a bit like the rear view of a heavily coiffed cocker spaniel. Frog rejoins Crane, perhaps as lunch, perhaps as a friend.
Or maybe not. It’s hard to tell with no perfomance notes and some very mystical puppet work. There are lighted fish that swoop thought air (very cool), little fishes on cranks that spin sporadically (very weird), and a rather floppy crane that suffered severe technical problems despite 4 puppeteers manipulating it and trying not to look like they were playing Twister. The first part of the work did an excellent part of evoking a remote pristine paradise, but once Frog came onstage, one was forced to ask “So what gives with the frog already?” Um, symbolism? Existentialism? Commercialism? Very mysterious – just like the swamps. But, we realize, there are no mosquitoes! Thank you, Mother Goddess! Thank you, decent air conditioning! <p>
Around the World In 80 Days
By Mark Brown
Directed by Russell Treyz
Starring Eric Hissom, Richard Width, Philip Nolen, Brad DePlanche
Orlando UCF Shakespeare, Orlando Fla</b><p>
They say getting there is half the fun, but when you’re heading to the
place you started from, it’s all the entertainment. Eccentric Phileas
Fogg (Width) is slightly less interesting than a 2×4, but when a
causal conversation about the new travel technology of 1872 comes up, he
instantly bets all he has that he can get around the world and back to the
reform club in a small but precisely specified time period. He grabs his
new servant Passepartout (DePlanche), and head off to the Suez, pursued
by the inimitable Detective Fixx (Hissom). Fixx is convinc
