Number 40: The Big Four Oh Edition

by Carl F. Gauze

Imagine – 40 whole columns! Not bad for a guy with no theater backgound, no English background, and a day job. I’ve seen maybe 40 or 500 shows, not received all that many death threats, and gone to some VERY interesting parties. All in all, It’s been fun and I’ll keep on doing it for another few years if I can pull it off and the Ink19 staff keeps putting up with me. <p>

Many of the shows reviewed here are presented as part of the Orlando Fringe Festival. Information on times, ticket prices, and location my be found at http://www.orlandofringe.com/

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One Man Lord Of the Rings

Written and Performed by Charlie Ross

Directed by T.J. Dawe

Orange Venue, Orlando Fringe Festival</b><p>

There’s nothing as scary as a dedicated science fiction fans, except for dedicated fantasy fans. Now, I’ve read Lord of the Rings many times, it’s a book that defines my life in some way. And, I’ve seen the first two movies, but have yet to work up the gumption to tackle that last 4 hour epic. Fortunately, here’s a show that has saved me quite a bit of sitting time. <P>

One hour may seem like a short time to cover the breadth and scope of Peter Jackson’s magnum opus, yet you have to admit that once you’ve seen one Middle Earth battle, you’ve pretty much seen them all. Ross does an excellent job of chopping out most of the blather, marginalizing the marginal charters, and emphasizing the classic visual moments like Gandalf spinning around Sauraman’s office floor. This work leans very heavily on the film version of LOTR, so if you haven’t soldiered thought most of it, you will be a little lost, and if you’ve never read the book, it will be a total mystery. On the other hand, if you can quote from the Silmarillion, you’ll be in stitches. <p>

Ross works his butt off in this show. He sweats to the point of leaving wet smiley faces on the stage from his pants, and every 15 minutes he asks you to change the DVD while he chugs some water. No one took him up on his free post show hug offer, despite the ovation he received. While a few less battle scenes would help, this is a faithful and accurate version of the film, cut down to Cliff Notes size, and a must for the fans of the film.<p>

Criteria
By Timothy Mooney

Pink Venue, Orlando Fringe Festival</b><P>

How many passwords do you have? How many user names, account names, PIN’s, credit cards? Are these YOU, defining you as accurately as your race, age, mother’s maiden name? In the future world of Timothy Malone, race has all but evaporated, and only your Social Security number separates you into groups. The United States has splintered into sections based on the arbitrary numbering system devised in the 1930’s to monitor retirement benefits. Wars and boarder skirmishes are the norm, as is a tattooed number on your hand. Without that number you are no one, an outlaw, or in his case, a secretly trained agent, set on infiltrating the Western area to commit a terrorist act. <p>

Outfitted with false identity and the name “Alan Gardner” our hero emerges into the world for the first time, with his mission to start by walking across Kansas, the long way. He loves it. As you might expect, he hasn’t been out much. Eventually, he stops at a diner, and the “How ya doin’, Honey?” of the waitress freaks him out – Oh, the immorality of these westerners! They certainly seem worthy of destruction. <p>

It’s a pretty cool story, and the points raised are particularly relevant in these days of terrorist profiling and a swelling electronic data base of every place and transaction you ever engage in. Future history and light jogging propel things forward, and while some of his military thinking is a bit iffy, the action is exciting, the consequences chilling, and the story telling superb. I regard this movement as a show worth recruiting others to see.<p>

The Naked Guy

By Dennis Giacino and Fiely Matias

The OOPS Guys

Blue Venue, Orlando Fringe Festival</B><P>

It’s Campy Gay Sitcom Time! For some reason, parodies of television shows on stage work better than stage shows edited like television, and here’s a fine example. Donny (Giacino) has written a play for the local cultural competition. It’s about a streetwise male bondage stripper, and its won $10,000! The only problem is the fine print requires the play to be about a real person, and Donny just made this guy up. Imagine that – a playwright just inventing people from whole cloth. Panic sets in the house – raunchy cruiser Blake (Lance Fitzgerald – now THAT’S a gay guy name) suggests hiring a real stripper he met at a Kissimmee S&M barbeque. Perforce artist Rocky (Matias) hides under a sheet, and practices his art, which includes Bad Interpretive Dance and upstaging Donny. With the director of the arts program coming over (Lisa Sleeper), its crunch time and they recruit Josh (Sammy D’Angelo) to play the role of the hustler. It’s his first time stripping, he’s really straight, and he passes out repeatedly. Next thing you know, they have a seminude straight gay bondage stripper passed out in the bathroom, and a county official on the couch. I know I hate it when that happens.

Plot, schmot. Naked Guy showcases the clowning talents of the Oops Guys as they throw water, make bad puns, and roll around in various silly poses for a string of homo sight gags. Donny continually produces disgusting high roughage desserts, like Corn S’Mores and a Broccoli Roll. Lance suggest outrageous ideas, all of which will lead to more sex for himself. Donny fumes around like Felix Ungar, and Josh stands around looking buff. After all, the show SAYS Naked Guy; you’d be disappointed if you didn’t get one.

This is an intensely physical show, and it eventually degenerates in a long and highly entertaining Performance Art pieces. It involves flashlights, dog collars, and music by the Partridge family. I think they are deconstructing the Orange County Arts Commission Mission Statement. Eventually, Josh strips naked, revealing the largest pair of testicals I’ve ever seen on a human. An informal poll at the beer tent makes me think they’re real, and not silicone, but that’s just a guess. This is a loud, fast, funny performance, and even if you don’t get all the catty cultural references, laugh when everyone else does. It’s very metrosexual.<p>

Tastes Like Chicken

By Jonathan Pereira

Turquoise Venue, Orlando Fringe Festival</B><P>

So who do you hate? No, really. Personally, I can’t stand creepy panhandlers, SUV drivers, people who “aren’t quite right”, and the overtly religious. We’re all conditioned to say like we like Blacks, Whites, Spanish, or Gay, at least when pressed publicly, but that’s a lie. Everyone has had some bad interaction that they project onto the group as a whole, and we carry that very deeply inside us. <p>

Chicagoan Jonathan Pereira takes these repressed memories and drags them to the surface, using a combination of story telling, surrealism, and messy props. At the open, he challenges us to guess his race, ethnic status, and sexual orientation, and after some minor costume changes, makes himself look different enough to reverse those first impressions. Building on the premise, he challenges our feeling on women with a low cost cardboard cutout of a Brazilian super model (I don’t objectify women!) and GI Joe saving a hijacked plane. He also can also make a very authentic sounding bong sound with just his lips. <p>

As we progress, he tries to get the audience to say the word “nigger”, which is largely unsuccessful in the mostly white crowd. We do get through a few rounds of “honkey”, but today, the N word has replaced the F word as the unsayable sound that will send you to social hell, at least in my neighbor hood. The show is funny and intriguing, and holds up a somewhat uncomfortable mirror to the audience. We ended up in a post show discussion at the beer tent that night, and it’s true – I hate a lot more people than I freely admit, and only some of those emotions are even derived form actual experience. Not that I’m going to hang out with the people at the top of this article, but at least I can admit it to myself. I now feel I’ve been uplifted by this years Fringe. Thanks, guys! And thanks to all you other weirdoes running around.<p>

Intermission
By Charles Miller

Directed by Chris Jorie

Playwrights Roundtable

Blue Venue, Orlando Fringe Festival</b><P.

Fringe wouldn’t be complete without a play about plays. This years offering examines a bond between a writer and a critic, both working in a small town. The Writer (David Lee Bass) has won a Humana Award (nice) and is on track for a Pulitzer (VERY nice). He’s suave, classy, and prone to make things up on the spot, which is a great skill for a writer. Opposite him is the local theater critic (Anne Hering), who is bossy, brassy, and smokes. It’s more than professional between them, they are in love, and The Critic pursues him in hopes of having a child. Bigger than any affection for him is her need to bear children, and he seems a perfect father to her. As we slide thought the show, a thin and ghostly Emma (Robyn Scrivner) narrates the story, and while the couple appear married and mad at each other, other realities may exist as well. Emma is torn between supporting The Writer, her father, while her mother, The Critic pulls another direction. By the end, we know what did and didn’t happen, even though I’m pretty sure he gets the Pulitzer.

A sharp and clever script comes to life with a top cast, making this one of the more intriguing intellectual exercises of the week. Miller’s carefully reveal reality starts you on one plausible path, only to transition to a completely different journey while never really addressing the gossipy question of Press vs. Stage ethics. Scrivener’s Emma is sexy and vulnerable, and absorbs and expresses the state of mind of both characters, a sort of one woman Greek chorus. It’s a family that might be, and might never be, and either resolution seems acceptable to someone. Although, I suspect a household where both people write fiction for a living might not be the calmest place to grow up, it should certainly be stimulating.

And the Moon And The Stars And The World

Written and Directed By Rocky Hopson

Green Venue, Orlando Fringe Festival</b><P>

Alienation and dissolving relations fill Rocky Hopson’s world. In this dark comedy, there are two main pairings, both of which are falling apart. Jacob (Jarred Sharar) lives uneasily with his step mom Sara (Lisa Hallsted) and works at the local video store. Dad is on the road, probably for good, and they struggle to get by. Sara is very chatty and friendly, and wants Jacob to at least like her, but he’s having none of that. A classic troubled young man, he returns one syllable answers, lies, and generally acts the passive aggressive thorn in her side. Sara does dream of doing more, and signs up for a creative writing class at the local community college. Her instructor is “S”, a tough looking lesbian played by Beth Marshall. “S” broke up with her girlfriend Zoë (Adonna Niosi) back in New York. Zoe wants kids, and slept with a homeless man to that end, splitting up her relation with “S”. Jacob and “S” know each other though the video store, and she tries settings him up with Miles (Jason Donnelly), an affable young man interested in exploring Jabob’s ambiguous sexuality.<p>

While certainly not a comedy in a “roars of laughter” sense, the show gently explores the each person and relation. Jacob’s staccato answer first make you think he’s a bit slow, but eventually you see him as a very uptight man, with no intention of revealing his inner self to anyone. Sara needs a friend, any friend, and “S” feels love isn’t strong enough to overcome infidelity, and I suspect she’s happy enough not changing diapers.<p>

The show suffers from a number of small issues – multiple short scenes attempt to weave two plot lines together yielding a distracting staging, Zoë’s main roll seems to be calling “S” on a cell phone and not getting her, and the final resolution of the two threads is rather ambiguous and unsatisfying. Despite the script problems, the show is well acted, and well produced, and each person has a clear roll to play, and each appearance reveals a bit more of their persona. Dissolution is rarely easy or complete, but a tighter ending would help this show immeasurably. <p>

Man 1, Bank 0: A Comedy of Errors

By Patrick Comb

First Interstate Productions

Turquoise Venue, Orlando Fringe Festival</b><P>

The love of money of the root of all evils, or so sayeth the bible. That love of money drives hundreds of unscrupulous companies to deluge us with junk mail, spam and telemarketing calls, all in hope of prying some of ours away form us. Patrick Combs lives on a shoestring in lovely Haight Asbury where received one of these modern plague carriers, offering him HUGH PROFITS if he would only send them some of his hard earned scratch. To bring the point home, they included a real looking but fake check for some obscene amount of money. Patrick deposited it into his ATM as a practical joke, never realizing the bank might actually process it. Well, big banks don’t make mistakes, so they did process the wallpaper, and his life began to collapse, all due to an unexpected $95k or so. Does he get to keep the money? Well, of course not, except he gave it back for reasons more personal than legal.<p>

In one hour, Mr. Combs will teach you more about banking law and practice than you care to know, and keep you roaring the whole way. This began as a practical joke, and as I listened to his tale, I kept thinking “his sounds a lot like bank fraud”. It is, and the only reason he’s standing in front of us and not locked up with someone named ‘Bruno” is a string of lucky breaks, screw ups by the Big Bank, and fortuitous legal advice. The comedy comes not only from the improbably story of this minor folk hero, but from his razor sharp timing, boyish charm, and the vicious arrogance of the bank he’s doing business with. This looks like one of the hot shows for this year, get there early. And bring an unused deposit slip from your check book; he’ll explain what to do with it later.

The Last 5 Years

By Jason Robert Brown

Directed by Roy Alan

Starring Jacob Haines, Erin Romero

Winter Park Play House, Winter Park Florida</b><p>

Meet Catherine Hiatt (Romero). She’s a woman who aspired to be an actress, failed, met a wonderful man along the way, and that failed as well. Her story starts today, and we peel layers off the onion to get to the innocence of a young woman with only a few bad romances under her pantyhose. After you’ve met her, let me introduce Jamie Wellerstein (Haines). He’s the bright young author with a novel climbing the charts, and even the mighty Atlantic Monthly is excerpting him before his 24th birthday. He meets Catherine, falls in love, and then out again as the pressure of fame and fortune pulls them different directions. He has his flaws; she has hers and it the classic Man with a Future, Woman with a Past tale, except his story runs forward, hers backwards. This little quirk allows both to sing with irony dripping from the bars and a smile on their face.

In the realm of musical theater, nothing makes big songs out of little ones like a good voice, and while only two people are singing, they have enough unamplified volume to blast the mural off the back wall in WPPH’s intimate room. Not only is there power, but control, and both Haines and Romero are hauntingly beautiful, with fully modulated tones, tight arrangement, and good looks to back up their good voices. As to the songs, well, they’re good but not great, with “A Summer in Ohio” as my favorite – she’s bemoaning working in the sticks in summer stock without him. It ain’t NYC, but it IS work, and someone has to enlighten Cayahoga County. Haines gets a rather odd number called “the Schmuel Song”, notionally a Christmas tune about a Jewish tailor in the Schetl somewhere near Klimovitch. It’s fun, but the actual goyish holiday connection is a bit vague. Fortunately, the remaining songs work well enough in weaving the tale together, and with the superb vocalization, the team of Haines and Romero COULD take a shot at singing the Winter Park phone book – it would probably some out sounding pretty good. Romance? It comes and goes, like a kidney stone. But great voices? Always worth the price, and you can’t get a bad seat for this show.<p>

For more information on Winter Park Playhouse, visit http://www.winterparkplayhouse.org/</a</i><p>>

Butter And Egg Man

By George S Kaufman

Directed by Katrina Ploof

Starring John Connor, Rick Stanley, Paul Hazell

Mad Cow Theater, Orlando Fla.</b><p>

It’s amazing how similar the stock market and the theatrical production worlds are. Lots of money CAN be made, but loss is the story of most days, and all of it revolves around selling sizzle to the unwashed masses. Joe Lehman (Hazell) and Jack McClure (Stanley) have a script, a cast and no financing. If only a sucker, er, a Butter and Egg man would show up and write a check, they could make a smallish fortune. Well, this IS theater, and one does roll in early in the first act. Peter Jones (Connor) just blew in from some unpronouncable town in rural Ohio with grandpa’s money and stars in his eyes. He’s ready to invest without even reading the script, not that it would make sense to him anyway. Opening night finds them in Syracuse, with people staying away in droves. By now Peter has fallen for the hot secretary Jane (Michelle Knight) and buys out Lehman and McClure with money he doesn’t have. It’s crunch time, but and suckers abound in the hinterlands, and in no time the nervous Oscar Fritichie (Jay Becker) is on board as a new partner. Though the miracle of Deus Ex Whatever, the show becomes a hit by the time it’s back in New York, and with any luck the cops will shut it down, assuring success. It’s time for another sale…

Barron’s, Variety, it’s all the same on some level. Here we find 3 acts and 3 transactions based on neither party really knowing what they are buying or selling. Connor’s clean cut youth travels from naivety to jaded cynicism along the way, and it only takes one hit for him to realizes how trivially easy this whole process must be. Backing him up is the Oliver and Hardy team of Hazell and Stanley, who do a beautiful job of describing the play inside this play – Hazell appear to make up the action on the fly as Stanley acts it out. Lehman’s independently wealthy wife Fanny (Jamie Middleton) performs the Greek Chorus role with running commentary on how crummy the show will be, and how it will fail. You’ll adore Diane Brune as Mary Martin, the supposed young ingénue leading the cast for the unseen show, as she bums money and rejects advice from the naïve Jones. And those just the REALLY great parts.

This show probably has the best set changes ever performed as the cast dances out to the Charlston and boogies with the furniture at the beginning of the last 2 acts. This show requires razor sharp comedic timing, and this cast stands ready to deliver. I’d say the most brilliant moment comes when Jones assures Fritichie “NO ONE work in the theater.” It’s a moment frozen in time, and sums up the whole show. You don’t need talent if you’ve got a marketing campaign, and you don’t even need that if you’ve got a Butter and Egg Man.

For more information on Mad Cow, please visit www.madcowtheatre.com

Making Symphony

By Dr. Stephen Caldwell Wright

Directed by Bobbie Bell

Seminole Community College</b><p>

While there is certainly a tie between Poetry and the Stage, the relation is a bit uneasy and the two forms remain distinct in the public eye. This production takes the form of a poetry slam produced by a well heeled theater department, with the words and rhythms of the spoken word enhanced and revealed within the structures of erstwhile dramatic persona. Framing the production is Young Poet Stephen Pugh, silently reading, writing, and erasing under the old oak tree with Young Admirer (Carla Hemmingway) attempting to figure out just what he’s doing. As a true poetic soul, he ignores the potential physical relation, and excludes her from his intellectual process – “This is MY project – Now, go away!” Thus we assume he imagines the entire production, and the dialectic begins. The one act ‘The Last of the Hollyhocks” sets us on the journey from a strictly dramatic starting point, and leads us though a series of Sayings, Statements, and Poems. Professor Pomponious (Mark March) appears, and begins to explain poetry, only to lapse into the sort of blather we all associate with Liberal Arts curricula that emphasize political thought over the mundane need of getting a job. While he’s carried off stage unceremoniously, the inexplicable remains and Spoken Word steals the stage.

While the action is often fun, it’s not always clear what is intended. One involved piece “How A Tulip Blooms: Women as Revelation” seems to be heading down the anti Dead White Guy Path, but the photos of more or less obscure females never really completed the journey, and did not impress us with the highlights of there work “Celestial Ballet” did a better job of conveying a story as two angles debate how to cope with a mortal who has ended up on their cloud, lost and lonely and without proper paper work. As the clouds are whipped by the rest of the cast, they return to earth and visit a church service. Everyone is overjoyed there may be unseen angels, until one appears and they beat it to death. This is so often the human condition – in love with an abstraction, and unable to deal with the reality, all to everyone’s dismay.

Although quite opaque to my non-poetic background, “Making Symphony” is beautifully produced, although rather long, and even while interesting things happen on stage, the mind tends to wander. I see it as a story internal to the writer and director, with symbolism wrapped so tight that only the initiated can hope to decode it, much less deconstruct it. It’s an enigmatic experience, and if the harsh reality of character conflict leaves you stressed out, this might be just the ticket. However, note taking is encouraged; some of this might be on the final exam. What, and exam? Of course – isn’t that what education is all about?<p>

Electra
By Sophocles

Adapted by Frank McGuinness

Directed by James C Wright

Starring Ashley Stutzman, Chelsea Canning, Patrick Pieri

Stover Theater, Deland, Fla.</b><P>

I’ve always felt the ancient Greeks were too easy on capital crimes like murder. Here you have poor Electra (Stutzman) living with her evil mom Clytemnestra (Natasha Sporty) Mom axed dear old dad, and is now sleeping with upstart Aegisthus (Evan Carmusin). Electra’s only hope is long lost brother Orestes (Pieri), who was spirited away at birth to avoid his own murder. Sister Chrysothemis (Canning) has decided to go with the flow, while Electra fights the good fight and bitches at mom constantly. After some long speeches, Orestes appears, and gets his servant (Chris Fowle) to convince Clytemnestra that he’s really dead, a ruse that will allow him to sneak into the house and do some evil vengance. The deception works, and what do we get? More dead bodies. Civilized, yes, but still lacking due process – that’s ancient Greece.

It’s goods to see these little classics appear, even if you do have to drive nearly to Daytona Beach to see them. The action all takes place on a beautifully done set, with a picture of Apollo and a cool looking door as the main elements of decor. Stutzman’s Electra is enjoyable and convincing, and she belts out some ear splitting cries of misery. Orestes is a bit stiff, and his buddy Pylades (Charles White) makes up for a lack of lines by mugging at the audience in a truly creepy fashion. Thing go swimmingly until Aegisthus appears, offering an awful, wooden performance. He seems to spout his lines completely arbitrary fashion, and this takes the veneer off an otherwise well done production.

Revenge permeates Greek tragedy, and the brutality of the age still shocks us even in this day of synthetic violence available on TV 24 hours a day. That’s the important difference between the stage and the small screen – one trivializes the magnificent, the other magnifies the trivial. And one doesn’t have as many intrusive ads, either, that’s something Sophocles never had to think about.<p>

For more information on Stetson’s Stover Theater, please visit http://www.stetson.edu/departments/csata/ta_pages.shtml <p>

Anthony and Cleopatra

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Jim Helsinger

Starring Chantal Jean-Pierre, Dan McCleary, Eric Hissom, Tim Williams

Orlando UCF Shakespeare festival, Orlando, Fla.</b><P>

War is heck. Or at least it’s much worse than love, until things go wrong, and that’s why mighty Marc Anthony (McCleary) has abandoned the fields of Mars to party down with foxy Cleopatra (Jean-Pierre). She’s a babe all right, and a mighty high maintenance one at that, but that sort of comes with the territory of running the oldest and richest government franchise in the ancient world. Marc’s real problem, though, is he really CAN’T quit his day job yet, as his wife and everyone else he knows back in Rome is fomenting a war against him. Marc is a part of the poorly conceived Roman triumvirate along with Octavius (Williams) and Lepidus (Don Seay). There’s even more trouble at sea, as the pirates son of famed general Pompey (David Hardie) is making trouble as well. All of these factions are a nuisance to keep straight, but the bottom line is this – Marc Anthony is more interested in Cleo’s bottom, and mistakenly set out to do battle at sea when all his strength is on land. Just to guarantee that things can’t get worse, he personally flees he battle to chase Cleo on last time, leaving Rome to become the world’s dominate empire for the next bazillion years.<p>

Oh, it’s a grand time in old Alexandria! The wine is stronger, the danced more nubile, and he vaguely off color hieroglyphics add a sleazy aura to this party town. Cleopatra’s general Enobarbus (Hissom) sort of sum up the spirit of the play – he drinks like a trooper until the chips are down, then turns coat for the winning side, only to cut himself to shreds in a suicide sequence that’s a bit long and bloody, even by Shakespearian tragedy standards. Besides the suitably royal triumv’s, more great casting fills this stage – Johnny Lee Davenport as the Egyptian soothsayer (vague in predictions, but firm in delivery) Stephan Jones as Agrippa (looking like he could conquer Illyria single handedly), and Sarah Mathews as the maid Charmian, a potent combination of good looks and bad politics.<p>

While the plot is complicated, there’s plenty to see while taking notes. This is one of the cleverest sets devised for the Lake Eola stage, with pyramids rushing to and fro stage on cue, amazing transitions from desert to sea to palace wrought with little more than lighting gels and Styrofoam, and some suspiciously symmetrical hieroglyphics on columns that came and went like a mirage. Director Helsinger took a brilliant cast and set, and made this 3-hour production seem much shorter. True, we had at least 5 fires break out around downtown during the evening, but then isn’t that to be expected during an event as momentous as the battle of Actium? Of course, you remember the significance of Actium, don’t you? Nah, neither do I. But it did give everyone in Alexandria a chance to look good and hang out with the roman soldiers, a bunch of men in need of some good R&R. What a place to be stranded!<p>

For more information on UCF-Shakespeare, visit > http://www.shakespearefest.org/ <p>

The Rivership Romance Wedding

Written and Directed by John DiDonna

Aboard the Rivership Romance, Sanford, Fla.</b><P>

I’m always torn between Italian and Polish Weddings. The Poles have better oompah music, and the bridesmaids are more available, but the Italians have the upper hand when it comes to sheer operatic overkill. Tonight’s selection is Italian, with the DiGeorgio and Vitiello clans uniting for some dynastic hijinks. Preshow, we stand around on the dock with groom Dominic Vitiello (Dominic Vicchiulo) screaming for best man Ronald Marangio (Rick Paulin), who hasn’t shown up on time since he was born. That’s OK; the other colorful family members are rolling up, none of whom are blatantly mobsters, which is a nice play away from the stereotype. There’s Aunt Assuntia (Lori McCaskill), a bit afraid of the boat and in need of a sling lift to get her on board, and Evelyn DiGeorgio (Victoria Tierney), mother of the bride, and even weird cousin Rosemary (Kimberly Shader), who rubs you down with crystals to clear the air of bad auras and any protestant who may have snuck on board without a proper gift.<p>

On board and under way, we get a good slice of Italians pre wedded bliss – Lounge singer Steve Lanza (Steve Hurst) belts out a few love songs while flirting with the over 70 members of the cast, and captain Buddy Stinson (John Kelly) liquors up his courage before performing the ceremony. This is a bit odd, as he doesn’t need t go home with any of these people. Presiding over all is the genial doofus wedding planner Peter Nicolas Feldman the 3rd (Lawrence Benjamin). He has a limited grasp of nautical terms, but an even poorer grasp of wedding traditional, as he imposes a wide variety of anti-Italian practices on the befuddled couple. Ever been to a Jewish wedding? Neither has he, but that doesn’t slow him down as he annoys the bridal party with irrelevancies.

We’re on a nicely planned 2 hour cruise, and while the show is not high drama, it’s a pleasant enough diversion for the time. Action moves around, and the Riverboat Romance crew must directly tackle one of the key technical a problems of classic Greek epic poetry – how do you tell a story in an acoustically poor space with bad sight lines while the audience eats, drinks, and ignores your plot points? Keys story elements are repeated around the dining room, and a television monitor system helps audience members in the back keep up with the key action “on stage”. Ever wonder why Aeschylus seems to drag? He faced the same exact problem, solved it the same exact way – repetition. You never know what you will learn from dinner theater. Anyway, from time we get dragged upstairs to dance with our dates or with cast members, all of who are friendly and ready to improv their roles to your random pointless questions. There’s complexity here, but it’s mostly technical, and handled quite well.

Eventfully, we return to dock. There’s not a lot of lake Monroe to see at night, except the dramatic 417 bridge abutments, so passing egrets or alligators didn’t distract us. The wedding concludes, and we assume both the guests of honor and a few others will get lucky that night. The bride and groom get in their rented Acura, and we all give them a rousing Soul Fire Yak Hoot, sending all of us off into the night, well fed and amused. While I’m not an expert on food, the limited menu was quite delicious and portions were large, and a full liquor bar and wine service gets everyone in the mood to see someone else’s life get much more complicated. Sanford’s a bit of a drive on weeknights, but this boat ride is worth the drive. If there’s one thing I like about other peoples weddings, I don’t have to live with them after the alcohol wears off. Isn’t that the nicest gift of all?<p>

For more information on RiverShip Romance, please visit http://www.rivershipromance.com/<p>

99 Cent Dreams

By JudyLee Oliva

Directed by Julia Allardice Gagne

Starring Morgan Matos, J Rueben Silverbird

Presented by The Women Playwrights’ Initiative

Valencia Community College Black Box Theater, Orlando, Fla.</b><P>

So what’s in a name? It’s not that hard to change yours if you don’t like it, and many Americans do for various reasons, but not every society is as flexible. For example, to Native Americans your name is you, and you revel it only to your closest friends. Tonight we visit Acadia, Oklahoma, where no one seems to have a name. Indian Man (Silverbird) runs the antique store, and his customers and friends don’t know what he’s really called. Not the Girl in Short Skirt (Heather Cooper), who uses his shop as a study hall in her pursuit of a plumbing job. Not the Woman with Purse (Patricia Pope) as she shops for endlessly unavailable bargains. And not even the hot shot reporter (Black Man in Suit, played by Haile Murrel) down from the Chicago Trib looking for his long lost sister has one, and every one knows how news hound love a byline. The closest thing we have to a name is Loretta, a simple girl with a big secret we gradually pry lose.

Loosely based on a true incident about a woman’s body discovered with a fetus in an oil drum, the story takes a wandering, dream like journey around the secrets a small town conceals so well that not even it’s own know them. Loretta is tied to this mystery murder though here Shadow Girl Sister (Pauline Lee), and while Indian Man and Short Skirt Girl work to find the reality behind the illusion, everyone else provides some insight into how Loretta wound up wandering lost in the dusty streets of Acadia.

Her journey is long, as is this story, which needs a bit of editing. There’s an inexplicable dream sequence in the middle with all the actors abusing large foam letters that fall from the rafters, which does little to explain or motivate further actions. The ending seems strung out as well. Every time we seem to come to a logical conclusion, more dialog pours forth, and there were 3 or 4 times I was ready for the final darkness, which stayed just a jump ahead of me. <p>

Still, the acting was excellent, particularly J Reuben Silver bird as Indian Man. He’s the sympathetic, balanced one in this town. While looked down upon by white society, his peace doesn’t come from that sort of approval, but from his spirit relations which are stronger than anything else in this Route 66 gas stop. Loretta’s speaks occasionally and in broken, mysterious manner, but enhanced her presence with ASL sign language, which made her retarded charter much more interesting than might have been. It took a while to warm to Haile Murrel, but he looked GOOD in his retro hairstyle and Nigerian Trickster outfit as he fenced cultural references off Silverbird’s tradition.

This show was sponsored by the Women Playwrights’ Initiative, an effort to increase the number and quality of female written plays. As a dabbler in the media, I’m more interested in the results on stage than any background qualifications for the writer, but I do believe this is a worthy cause. Writing is tough, and editing tougher, but the only way both may be propagated is by practice, practice, practice. This is a show that has begun the journey.<p>

For more information on Women Playwright Initiative, please visit http://www.media-theater.com/ <p>

Requiem For A Heavyweight

By Rod Sterling

Directed By Frank Hilgenberg

Starring Dean Walkuski, Rick Sotis, Paul Castaneda

Theater Downtown, Orlando, Fla </b><P>

Here’s a clear example of what happens when you don’t develop outside interests during your career. Washed up palooka Harlan “Mountain” McClintock (Walkuski) knows only one thing – fighting. He started at 19, right after he dropped out of 9th grade, and while he could have been a contender, he’s not. After getting hammered by the next Contender, his manger Maish Resnick (Sotis) concludes that McClintock is washed up, and seeks a new boy from mobster Max Greeny (Christian Kelty) Problem is, Maish lost his grubstake betting against his own boy, and now only one career remains open – Pro wrestling. McClintock would do just abbot anything for Maish, but this pushes him to his limits, and it’s not until Greeny is ready to beat the remaining borscht out of Maish does he take the ultimate dive. If only he had taken a few community college courses.<p>

It’s seedy world that fighters hang out in, low dive bars, low-grade prostitutes, and in the days before steroids, low grade medical help. Sew up the wounds and pour some gin in them, and they’re ready to fight again. It’s this stew of unseen life that makes the show while sidekick Army Hakes (Castaneda) watches Maish strip away McClintock’s pride to save his own miserable skin. The problem is Maish isn’t quite nasty enough in the first act to drive things forward, and not scared enough in the second act. All around him are the better performances – Grace Miller (Monica Travers), the social worker with a heart of gold, and Golda (Gloria Duggan), the hooker with boobs of steel are particularity effective in this man’s world. Kelty plays a mean mobster, and always looks good in a chalk stripe suit. And you really do feel sorry for McClintock, misunderstanding that the laughter of the wrestling audience is no worse than the blood lust of a fight crowd. Both are just looking for conversational topics and a chance to have a few beers. There’s no honor in getting beat up, nor in taking a dive, nor wrestling. It’s just a job, and even at that it’s worse than most. Only the absolute top performers get rich, and if you fail, you better have a plan B or the rest of your life will be spent starving in pain.<p>

For more information, please visit www.theatredowntown.net <p>

An Evening With Jack Kerouac

By David McElroy and Steve Rowel

Directed By Chris Jorie

Performed By David McElroy

Southern Winds Theater at Chapters Bookstore, Winter Park, Fla.</b><p>

You can torture a soul a 100 different ways. Writer and professional alcoholic Jack Kerouac did it in a never-ending search to find peace by running as fast as possible every day of his life. His constant search for something lead him to every corner of America, and associations with some of the most dissolute intellectuals of his day. Tonight it’s 1969, and Jack is hanging out in the green room waiting for William Buckley’s Firing Line and downing a quart of preshow courage. Theses days we’d say he was confronting his inner demons, but back then it was just delirium tremens. While waiting, he hallucinates most of his life – the happy days with Neil Cassidy and Alan Ginsburg, and the sad days when his older brother died young.<p>

Kerouac was a classic writer – mildly successful in life, broke at a young death, and elevated to sainthood decades later. McElroy’s frenetic one-man show captures the spirit of the time and the man, assisted by a few offstage voiceovers. His mother, friends, and even Steve Allen (remember him? I do) make audio appearances. Buckley droning style of narration works well against Kerouac drunken babblings, as they tug over the course of the interview – should they discuss the filthy hippies, or let Jack read from his penciled notebooks of poetry and observation? Both courses seems perfectly reasonable from McElroy’s character, although the actually TV show might have been a disaster. McElroy is fine writer in his own right, although I can’t personally vouch for his alcoholic capacity.<p>

The setting is intimate, tucked up in the loft of the new Chapters Bookstore on Park Avenue. The crown was small but enthusiactic, and every person there got some personal if scary attention from the man himself. Food and wine were available, and the view of the anti pigeon spikes and cross street traffic through the window made the setting seem a bit more like New York than a Central Florida, all of which added to the atmosphere of this interesting and intriguing piece.<p>

For more information on the events at Chapter’s, please visit > http://www.chaptersonpark.com</I>

Les Liaisons Dangereuses

By Christopher Hampton

Directed by Katrina Ploof

Starring Lucy Carney, Eric Nutting

Mad Cow Theater, Orlando, Fla.</b><P>

Clearly, sex was not invented in the 60’s. The French knew a bit about the topic way back in the 18th century, and they played the game for blood. An unholy alliance exists between the Vicomte de Valmont (Nutting) and his semi-mistress the Marquise de Merteuil (Carney). He has two tasks – violate the virtuous Mme. Tourvel (Heather Leonardi) to satisfy an old grudge of his, and violate ditsy blonde Cecile Volanges (Maria Taylor) to revenge an ex-paramour of Merteuil. He considers Cecile far to easy for a man of his reputation, but tackles her anyway, much to her delight. Mme. Tourvel holds out to the bitter end, and ends up in a convent, which was a popular alternative to divorce in this very Catholic country. Valmont some how end up in a fatal sword fight with Danceny (Jamie Cline), Cecile’s other boy friend. He loses the battle despite de-swording Danceny several times, lying dead on stage for the last scene, breathing heavily from the exertion. Oh stage death, where is they sting? <p>

This vicious period piece flows along though countless scene changes, with more furniture movement than most couples go thought in twenty years. A virginal white couch is in constant motion as the servants (Terrence Yip and Cearan Craig) manipulate the curtains and movables and the rest of the cast jumps in and out of bed. As in all these ancient regime French pieces, virtually everyone goes by a title; so one needs to keep the program at hand to keep the players separate. The acting is good enough, despite numerous dropped lines, with a decent chemistry between Carey and Nutting moving things forward. Trenell Mooring appeared in one of her most revealing performances as Emile, the Courtesan and portable writing desk, and Marty Stonerock was excellent as the gullible Mme. Voltages, Cecile’s mother. <p>

It took a long time for things in France to build up to the revolution, and things here paralleled that slow development, so when the final blow strikes, it is unexpected. Both principles are dead by curtain, and while you feel they deserve it, it’s hard to work up that much sympathy for the rest of the aristocracy. Perhaps beheading the lot was a bit harsh, but no one here seemed capable of running a flower shop, much less a country. All that’s needed now are some soap commercials at intermission to get the complete effect.<p>

For more information on Mad Cow, please visit www.madcowtheatre.com

The Roar of the Greasepaint, The Smell of the Crowd

By Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley

Directed by Michael Edwards

Starring Roy Alan and Michael Edwards

Winter Park Playhouse, Winter Park Fla.</b>

On a long, tortuous road between “Waiting For Godot” and “Mary Poppins” we find this sly commentary on the decay of the British class system. A shabby looking Sir (Edwards) arrives on stage extolling the virtues of The Game. Woebegone Cocky (Alan) drags the equipment around, struggles to understand the rules, and starves. Meanwhile, street urchins sing happy songs and Sir’s assistant, The Kid (Ansley Delong), takes lessons on being a right bastard, torturing Cocky whenever possible. When Cocky finally asserts himself and forces Sir to make the first move, the Kid swaps sides and tortures the Aristocracy instead, all set in what might at first glance be a children’s show. This is Art + Politics = Entertainment at it’s best.<p>

Written back in the mid 60’s, this intentionally stagy show covers quite a bit of fine music on it’s Candy Land set. Songs like “The Joker” (no, not the Steve Miller hit) and “A Wonderful Day Like Today” fill the stage; with both Edwards and Alan capable of putting the raw volume behind these numbers to drive them home. Supporting actress Delong did wonders as well, with “Things To Remember” and “Look at That Face.” In a way-too-short appearance, The Black Man (Amos Dertes) puts over “Feeling Good” with such verve you hope he comes back for the finale, or at least Karaoke Night at some dive bar on Park Avenue after the show.<p>

Who are all these people? In the guise of a children’s game we see the slide of the British aristocracy. It’s lived off the back of the working class for centuries, but now the pickings are slim and maintaining the moral justification for dominance has faded. The working class has just about had it, and we mimic the terrible British labor strife of the post WW2 era. A beautiful Girl (Natalie Cordone) is held out to Cocky, symbolic of Middle Class gentility, only to be taken away and soiled by Sir. When Cocky rebels, The Kid deserts Sir with no qualms and goes to work for the other side. Who is she? Why, I take her to represent the Press, now dedicated to harassing the high and mighty. When a Black Man appears, Cocky tries Sir’s routine on him, which he blithely ignores. He cares not for lese majesty and The Game, only a chance to earn a living.

There’s nothing like parody to bring down the high and mighty, and looking back at the course England has traversed over the last 40 years, it’s not been pretty – grand houses turned into theme parks, the royal family turned into a bumbling vaudeville act, and a economic slide that really makes you wonder about the phrase “It’s good to be King.” It might have been, once upon a time, but right now Prince Charles and Prince William are in a courtly competition for a job that pays less than a decent soccer player might make, and with more weekend obligations. “Greasepaint” now appears to have been a Sibyl in the foot lights, with all her predictions made true. Good thing none of us has a peerage, matey.

Othello
By William Shakespeare

Directed by Richard Width

Starring Esau Pritchett, Eric Hissom, Sarah Hankins

Orlando UCF Shakespeare Festival, Orlando, Fla.</b><p>

Pity poor Othello (Pritchard), mighty general of Venice. He marries the cutest girl in town, Desdemona (Hankins), only to have his father in law Brabantio (Mark Brotherton) despise him to the point of death in the second act. He is sent to fight the Turks in Cyprus, but the ungrateful dogs die in a storm, denying him glory in battle, leaving only the headache of administration. His most faithful servant, Iago (Hissom) gets a burr under his saddle over a passed promotion, and he spends the rest of the show finagling a split between Desdemona and Othello, and generally abusing everyone else he comes in contact with. Sure, Othello is a mighty general, but some days even 2-foot long dreadlocks can’t buy a break. As Iago’s plans evolve, we experience all the usual Shakespearian devices – oaths sworn before key facts are known, random misinterpretations of coincidence, and a general inability for anyone to consider alternate interpretations of other’s intentions. You know the rest – bodies pile up, and honest Othello gets it worst of all – he commits suicide by small cuts. Iago is left unresolved – perhaps he gets what he deserves, or maybe he hangs on, hoping for a sequel Shakespeare never got around to writing.

On a stage full of Doc Martens and bowie knives, actors wave flashlights and spew spit as venomous line flow. Brabantio’s personal crisis quickly swings to a military problem and back to a personal one. The Turkish invasion serves two purposes – it moves the action out of Venice, giving Iago more maneuvering room, and it gives a good excuse for a sheet metal-rattling thunderstorm, all the more intense for it’s resonance in the intimate Goldman theater. There’s the curious mix of old and new we have some to expect from this troupe- stylish hats of all ages flitter across stage, hairstyles range from Bob Marley to Betty Page, and Desdemona even sports some 16th century Capri pants. The acting is brilliant, as always – conniving Eric Hissom emits genuine evil rays, bumbling Rodrigo (Chris Taylor) captures the innocence of a rich idiot in love, and Becky Fisher puts life into the variety of supporting roles that always keep the stage alive in Elizabethan drama. Best of all is Pritchard’s Othello, standing nearly a head above everyone on stage and showing his pectorals at every opportunity. He IS a mighty man; brought down by treachery and deceit, and denied the one thing he deserves most – the perception that he is loved.

For more information on UCF-Shakespeare, visit > http://www.shakespearefest.org/ <p> For more information on Winter Park Playhouse, please visit http://www.winterparkplayhouse.org/ <p></a>