As long as there have been societal norms, our literature has been fascinated with those who break them. We seem to be obsessed with understanding the demons that drive our social deviants so that we may delude ourselves into thinking that we can predict and somehow control their behavior. It seems to me however that more often than not, there is rarely (if ever) a cut-and-dry explanation for crime. Some do it for attention, some to be remembered, some for material gain, some for martyrdom. The most titillating stories though are always those of criminals who, in the words of Alfred Pennyworth in The Dark Knight, “just want to watch the world burn.”

Interestingly enough, many of the infamous real crimes that have been fictionalized over the years have involved two men; the investigation of the crime always focused on their relationships, personalities, and influence over one another. The paradigm is almost always the same: one man shy and sweet but cold, the other brash and devilishly charismatic. Isaac Harris and Max Blanck, Russell Henderson and Aaron McKinney, Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris — the list goes on. I was struck by these and other parallels as I watched 1st Stage’s production of John Logan’s Never the Sinner — the story of the 1924 murder of Bobby Franks committed by two self-proclaimed “supermen,” Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb.

As the audience strolled into the tiny theatre in Tysons Corner, the actors (in designer Laree Lentz’ fantastic costumes) were milling about the space setting props and casually chatting. Admittedly, I wasn’t sure that this decision worked until the show actually started — the actors were setting the stage for a 1920’s radio play that served as a framing device for the entire play. It was a bold choice, but one that paid off immensely. Sound designer Eric Shimelonis’s attention to detail was uncanny as he combined a plethora of antique noisemakers with modern microphones to create the perfect aural environment for this disturbing production. The culmination of his efforts was in a scene late in the play in which I remember the “music” being particularly eerie — my jaw dropped when I realized that the “music” was simply the actors subtly using the various noisemakers onstage. It’s rare that a sound design will make such an impression on me, but Mr. Shimelonis ingeniously managed to make sound an integral part of this show.

Director Jeremy Skidmore took the radio play concept and ran with it, using designer Robbie Hayes’ brilliantly nondescript studio set as the perfect background for the play’s many locales. I particularly enjoyed Mr. Skidmore’s unconventional staging of the courtroom scenes — no two were set the exact same way, yet the angle of focus and director’s intention were always clear. Mr. Skidmore’s use of the space as well as the radio play concept created an oddly whimsical atmosphere that amplified the impact of the play’s grisly subject matter a hundredfold.

The small cast of seven worked extremely well together, each member deserving of high praise. I have to comment, though, on the performances of Stephen Russell Murray as Leopold and Alex Mandell as Loeb. Both of these young actors imbued their characters with endless layers of complexity and passion. Mr. Murray did not cut an imposing figure, but his cold, calculating stare was enough to send shivers down my spine. His performance was deeply unsettling from the start, made all the more potent by his almost childlike innocence and aloof intellectualism — truly a masterful portrayal. As Loeb, Mr. Mandell expertly embodied the spirit of the seductive deviant mastermind. His charisma knew no limits, and his easy smile was the kind that makes one shudder to think of the things of which he could convince a person. Also impressive was his innate ability to make the script’s authentic ’20’s slang seem just as natural as the vernacular of today. To watch these two gifted actors debate Nietzschean philosophy, intellectual superiority, moral ambiguity, and the unspoken relationship between sexuality and power was absolutely electrifying and a privilege to watch.

With a smattering of adult language and discussion of murder, this is not a show for little ones. Mr. Skidmore and his cast and crew have created a thrilling, insightful piece of theatre that will make you question your judgment and appeal to the potential deviant within us all.

Director’s Note

The play recreates the 1924 “trial of the century.” Two Chicago teenagers, Leopold and Loeb, from millionaire families, kidnap and brutally murder a 14-year-old for the thrill of creating the perfect crime. Their complex and fascinating relationship of fevered intellect, romantic passion, and distorted philosophy is unpacked by defense attorney Clarence Darrow who reshapes the trial into a vivid and powerful explorations of violence, vengeance and justice.

Photo Gallery

Stephen Russell Murray as Nathan Leopold, Michael Kramer as defense attorney Clarence Darrow and Eric Lucas as prosecutor Robert Crowe	Alex Mandell as Richard Loeb and Stephen Russell Murray as Nathan Leopold
Adam Downs as Reporter #3	Alex Mandell as Richard Loeb, Stephen Russell Murray as Nathan Leopold, Sun King Davis as Reporter #1, Michael Kramer as defense attorney Clarence Darrow and Adam Downs as Reporter #3
Eric Lucas as prosecutor Robert Crowe and Michael Kramer as defense attorney Clarence Darrow	Amber Jackson as Germaine Rheinhardt
Stephen Russell Murray at Nathan Leopold, Michael Kramer as Clarence Darrow, and Alex Mandell as Richard Loeb	Stephen Russell Murray and Alex Mandell as Leopold and Loeb

Photos by Teresa Castracane

Cast

• Leopold: Stephen Russell Murray
• Loeb: Alex Mandell
• Reporter #1: Sun King Davis
• Reporter #2: Amber Jackson
• Reporter #3: Adam Downs
• Robert Crowe: Eric Lucas
• Clarence Darrow: Michael Kramer

Crew

• Playwright: John Logan
• Director: Jeremy Skidmore
• Lighting Design: Brian S. Allard
• Choreography: Matthew Gardiner
• Set Design: Robbie Hayes
• Stage Manager: Theresa Hindersinn
• Costume Design: Laree Lentz
• Sound Design: Eric Shimelonis
• Set Construction: Howard Forman, Barry Holt, Mark Krikstan, Don Moore, Sebastian Wilbern
• Electricians: Andrew Jorgensen, Logan Duvall

Disclaimer: 1st Stage provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

Berlin in the early 1930’s boasted one of the most freely-accessible and unabashed LGBT nightlife scenes in the world. To call it an open environment would be a hideous understatement. Drag clubs, burlesque shows, and easy sex made Berlin a very popular destination — especially to British author Christopher Isherwood, who moved there in 1929 just as the Weimar Republic was beginning to fall. There he took many lovers (presumably including a few females) in an attempt to experience all that the seedy underbelly of German society had to offer just before the end of the world. His experiences were chronicled and published in 1939 as The Berlin Stories, later to be dramatized in the 1950’s for the stage and screen in the form of John van Druten’s I am a Camera. This was further reworked by Joe Masteroff, John Kander, and Fred Ebb into the landmark Broadway musical Cabaret in 1966 with a film version following in 1972 — a career-making venture for such stage and screen legends as Joel Grey, Liza Minelli, Jill Haworth, and Lotte Lenya. This production, innocent though slightly risqué for its time, was unsurprisingly cleansed of too many references to male homosexuality. When it was revived by director Sam Mendes at London’s Donmar Warehouse in 1998 however, this new version ramped up the tension and darkness, and finally did justice to Mr. Isherwood’s true experiences in Berlin.

Unfortunately, none of these elements are present in the production of Cabaret currently being produced by Damascus Theatre Company at Olney Theatre Center. The production uses the script and score for the original 1966 version of the show, which has grown a little outdated given modern social mores — not to mention the fact that the director of this production explicitly states that this version veers furthest from the original source material. At the risk of criticizing the script chosen rather than the production itself, I have to say that this production in particular was completely devoid of the raw, urgent, gritty sexuality amidst impending doom that gives this show meaning.

Upon walking into the theatre, I found myself in a pentagon-shaped space with risers on one end and small cabaret tables on the other that put this show in the round. This was to be the Kit Kat Klub — an enigmatic non-space from which the company uses musical numbers to comment on the action of the play. Burlesque artwork on the walls and hanging lights reminiscent of the Broadway production of Spring Awakening made the set very effective — until the actors started using it. The show was meant to be presented in the round, but I can’t shake the suspicion that those seated at the cabaret tables paid extra money for three-quarters of the show that I saw. Furthermore, the only passage to the backstage area was a large door in plain view of the audience covered by a black curtain — which would have been fine if we wouldn’t have been able to see the dressing stations in full light anytime large set pieces had to be moved. This caused major traffic issues and made scene changes very tough to sit through. To compound the traffic issues even more, the performers used the corridors behind the audience risers to get around, as well as staircase aisles through the audience for entrances and exits. I liked this idea until I saw (and heard) performers whispering and socializing in full view of the audience. It’s one thing to interact onstage as a framing device, but these offstage performers showed a lack of professionalism that is absolutely inexcusable.

There were a few standout performers in the cast, but the acting overall left a lot to be desired. It was blatantly clear that no attempt whatsoever had been made by anyone involved to understand any of the German language used in the script, nor how to pronounce it. For those actors who attempted the German accent, the quality ran the gamut from extremely strong to laughably inaccurate. Many of the performances felt like people just reading lines rather than engaging the nuances of their characters — although the fault for that lies just as much with the director as with the actors. The best performance of the evening by far was Frieda Enoch as the ill-fated landlady Fraulein Schneider. Her accent was spot-on and her overall demeanor was utterly believable. It is deplorable however, that poor direction caused her scenes with paramour Herr Schultz to be stripped of all tenderness and depth — rendering their typically heartbreaking dénouement pallid and unmoving. Most disappointing for me personally was Jason Damaso as the ghostly Emcee of the Kit Kat Klub. It was plain to see that he’s a talented performer, but his lack of charisma and improvisation skills crippled his ability to perform the iconic role that made superstars of Joel Grey and Alan Cumming. Amanda Spellman was commensurate as Sally Bowles — the British star of the Kit Kat Klub and the object of Cliff’s (Isherwood’s direct equivalent/representation) brief flirtation with heterosexuality (or so it ought to have been). Lovely though her voice was, the director missed the point of Sally’s biggest number — the darkly comic and eponymous “Cabaret.” Because no real tension had been established beforehand, the song lacked the enormity of this tragic heroine’s world collapsing around her; it was less a defiant commitment to blissful ignorance and hedonism than an opportunity to simply showcase a young lady with a fantastic voice.

Director/Music Director Keith Tittermary should be commended for assembling an adept orchestra and for his arrangements of some of Kander and Ebb’s best-loved music, but his direction and his staging both have worlds of room for improvement. This script is full of complex interactions, nuanced character arcs, and extremes of human emotion — all of which seemed to have been sacrificed in favor of a pretty show that seemed to ache for the saccharine Broadway of yesteryear. The looming sense of dread as the Nazi regime draws nearer is absent from this production — replaced by a few scattered swastikas and a version of the song “Tomorrow Belongs to Me” that in no discernible way represents the NSDAP anthem it’s supposed to be. By toning down the already tame original version of the script, Mr. Tittermary has created a sterile, shallow interpretation of Cabaret. He has sacrificed authenticity in favor of an ensemble cohesion which alas, was not achieved. The abdication of honesty in acting as well as the utter lack of acknowledgement of the show’s gay elements put this show on par with Glee‘s blasphemous take on The Rocky Horror Show.

Cabaret‘s vague references to Nazism and attempted sexual innuendo render it unsuitable for little ones, but I cannot say that I honestly recommend this production at all. There are, of course, theatrical purists out there who would disagree with me and claim that the revival version is too dark, too sexual. Of them I ask: if you’re not going to tell the whole story authentically, what point is there in telling the story at all? Cabaret is not a show meant to keep people in their comfort zones! Even with the original script, there are opportunities to convey the darkness of this show — all of which were missed. If all of the elements of Isherwood’s fantastically debauched story are censored and polished clean, the show then defeats its own purpose and makes a “meeskite” (ugly/outcast) of not only the original author of its source material, but of all LGBT people. With a combination of poor direction and egregious miscasting, Damascus Theatre Company’s Cabaret lamentably fails to deliver on too many levels to deem worthy of a recommendation.

Director’s Note

“I am a camera with its shutter open, quite passive, recording, not thinking.” – Christopher Isherwood, “Goodbye to Berlin,” 1939

In 1929, young writer, Christopher William Bradshaw Isherwood traveled to Berlin where he would remain for 4 years. In that time he got inspiration for his novellas, “Goodbye to Berlin” (1939) and “Mr. Norris Changes Trains” (1935). Combined, these would later be published as the novel “The Berlin Stories,” which John Van Druten would adapt into the play and movie, I Am A Camera (Broadway: 1951; Film: 1955). And that is the basis for Cabaret.

Now, those who are familiar with Cabaret may notice that this is not the movie. And it is not the acclaimed Sam Mendes revival. No, this is the original 1966 Broadway version, which in reality, of all the versions of Cabaret, strays the most from the original source material. But, I chose this version due to one main difference: the emphasis on the ensemble. The Academy-Award winning movie made household names of Joel Grey and Liza Minelli, and every subsequent production has recreated these tour de force performances. By going back to the original, we are truly placing the story in the ensemble. At some point in the play, every member of the ensemble becomes a camera — recording, not thinking. Clifford Bradshaw is based on Isherwood himself, but so is every other member of the ensemble. Each character is in some way a part of Isherwood, someone he met; someone he knew; each person represents a moment in time from his journeys.

And in setting the play in an actual cabaret (to borrow the German spelling), each person in the theater tonight has an opportunity to take a glimpse at what is behind the shutter. And not all of it is pretty. At this moment in time, we are in the Weimar Republic, New Year’s Eve, 1930. In 3 years, on January 30, 1933, this world would forever change. This is that moment in time, when the realization of what is to come becomes evident.

So as you enter our club today, I want you to be a camera.

Observe and record.

Photo Gallery

Photos provided by Damascus Theatre Company

Cast

• Master of Ceremonies (M.C): Jason Damaso
• Clifford Bradshaw: Carl Williams
• Ernst Ludwig: Matt Kopp
• Fraulein Schneider: Frieda Enoch
• Fraulein Kost: Mary McConnell
• Herr Schultz: Micky Goldstein
• Sally Bowles: Amanda Spellman
• Kit Kat Girls: Laura Hetherington, Megan May, Debbi Patton, Tonya Pleasants, Leah Schwartz, Kedren Spencer
• Kit Kat Boys: Zach Harris, DJ Wojciehowski
• Two Ladies: Laura Hetherington, Megan May

The Kit Kat Band

• Piano/Conductor: Arielle Bayer
• Drums: Ricky Wise, Nate Hilburger
• Reeds: Bob Greene
• Trumpet: Earl Smith
• Trombone: Kenny Horan
• Guitar/Bass: Belvedere Morton

Production Team

• Director/Music Director: Keith Tittermary
• Co-Producers: Carol Boyle & Kathleen Richards
• Choreographer: Laurie Newton
• Assistant Director/Dance Captain: Megan May
• Rehearsal Pianists: Arielle Bayer & Keith Tittermary
• Orchestra Director: Arielle Bayer
• Technical Director/Lighting Design: Rick Swink
• Sound Design: Bill Brown
• Properties/Set Dressing Set Painting: Maria Littlefield
• Set Design: Bill Brown
• Master Carpenter: Jim Korte
• Stage Manager: Cathy Clark
• Costume Design: Flo Arnold
• Program: Scott Richards
• Webmaster: Vitol Wiacek
• Ticket Sales/House Manager: Elli Swink
• Concessions Manager: Kelly Tilton
• Set Construction: Jime Korte, Bruce Clark, Scott Conlon, Julia Junghans, Bill Lebair, Richard Ridge

Disclaimer: Damascus Theatre Company provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review. DTC also purchased advertising on the ShowBizRadio web site, which did not influence this review.

Ah, the holidays — a time for egg nog, family reunions, and remembering how little we actually like both (kidding, Mom). If there’s one thing I love, it’s satire — especially when it comes to Christmas. From The Eight: Reindeer Monologues to Mrs. Bob Cratchit’s Wild Christmas Binge, Christmastime is rife with material for great comedic theatre — and DC’s Grain of Sand Theatre has capitalized on this exceptionally well with their production of Matt Hanf’s You Can’t Get a Decent Margarita at the North Pole currently running at the Shop at Fort Fringe.

We join our familiar friends at the North Pole as Santa’s (Carl Brandt Long) marriage is being threatened by his work schedule, his apparent apathy, and an attractive but emotionally unstable elven assistant called Rita (Christine Lange). Santa’s wife Marjorie (Heather Whitpan) exacts her revenge by taking up with the armed and dubious Tooth Fairy (Ryan Sellers) — all while a certain sour, drunken reindeer (John Stange) stirs up all kinds of trouble by sticking his red nose into everybody else’s business. When everybody meets up in Mexico under various contrived circumstances, the proverbial “it” hits the fan and hilarity abounds.

Director Sara Bickler has helmed a silly little show that doesn’t try to be anything other than fun (and quite a lot of fun it is!). As much of a Grinch as I can be, I love seeing performers truly enjoy the piece that they’re performing and that was absolutely the impression that I got from every single cast member. The minimal set designed by Kristina Nelson and lighting by Timothy Nielsen deftly filled the awkwardly small theatre and created just the type of slightly askew winter wonderland that best serves this twisted Christmas carol while keeping the whole thing lighthearted.

The small cast of DC-based actors brought a whimsical yet snarky energy to the show and made each of the roles completely their own. John Stange as Rudolph and Heather Whitpan as Marjorie Claus were particularly delightful — Ms. Whitpan constantly reminded me of Megan Mullally (of “Will & Grace” fame) with her acerbic asides and “above-it-all” brashness. And if you’ve ever wondered what Santa Claus is like after a long night a-wassailing, let me assure you that Carl Brandt Long delivers one of the subtlest and funniest drunk performances I’ve ever seen!

With some adult situations but a surprising lack of adult language, I would highly recommend You Can’t Get a Decent Margarita at the North Pole to kids from 12 to 92 (ok, a bit of a stretch for that joke, but go with it…). Grain of Sand Theatre has taken Christmas by the jingle bells and presented DC with a charming and highly enjoyable romp best enjoyed with three French hens, two turtle-doves, and a few grains of salt generously applied to the rim of a glass.

Photo Gallery

John Stange as Rudolph	Mrs. Claus and the Tooth Fairy (Heather Whitpan and Ryan Sellers)
Sad Santa (Carl Brandt Long)

Photos provided by Grain of Sand Theatre

Cast

• Rudolph: John Stange
• Rita: Christine Lange
• Santa: Carl Brandt Long
• Marjorie: Heather Whitpan
• Tooth Fairy: Ryan Sellers

Production Team

• Stage Managers: Rin Hutter, Pamela Leahigh
• Set Design: Kristina Nelson
• Fight Choreography/Sound Design: Carl Brandt Long
• Director: Sara Bickler

Disclaimer: Grain of Sand Theatre provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

Almost as soon as the Iraq War began in 2003, Americans asked “Why are we fighting? What is the point of this violence?” Through it all however, we’ve held onto the idea that the abstract concept of “country” is most important. There tends to be an “us-against-the world” mentality that permeates American culture, so we often forget that we are not the only country fighting this seemingly endless and unpopular war. One has to imagine that fighting and perhaps dying in this war would mean something vastly different to a soldier whose country is not directly involved but is simply aiding its ally. The need to communicate this meaning gave Scottish playwright Gregory Burke the impetus to conduct interviews with young men of the Black Watch, a legendary Scottish military regiment. The culmination of these interviews is the mesmerizing, captivating, and awe-inspiring play Black Watch, currently running at the Shakespeare Theatre.

With its roots in the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, Black Watch has toured the world with great and well-deserved success. The play introduces us to a cast of typical Scottish lads searching for identity and purpose – forever bound to each other by the fraternity and honor of serving in the Black Watch, Scotland’s oldest and most respected military regiment. Constructed from interviews of real Black Watch soldiers in 2004, the story examines events surrounding Operation TELIC and the controversial amalgamation of the Black Watch into the Royal Regiment of Scotland. The action jumps back and forth between a pub in Scotland, Army bases and convoys in Iraq, and a uniquely theatrical “non-space” in which the ghostly echoes of generations of Scottish warriors share their anguish and glory in ways that affect the very souls of the audience. As I entered the theatre, I stared in awe of the enormous stage flanked on two sides by the audience – “theatre in the isthmus” as I’ve taken to calling it. Lighting effects and multimedia projectors draped the space with the Scottish flag bearing St. Andrew’s cross as massed pipe and drum music filled the air. This in and of itself stirred a sort of ancestral patriotism in me, and I reveled in it. There is a part of the show in which the lads mock Americans saying things just like this, but I’ll say it anyway – my great-grandmother was a Scottish immigrant and though I never knew her, something about that music made me proud to be a descendant of Clan MacArthur.

Black Watch employs many different theatrical devices to tell its story, giving the piece a timeless feel while simultaneously grounding it in today’s reality. The set has a very Brechtian feel to it – all exposed wires and scaffolding alongside twenty-first century screens and projectors – adding a rawness and grit to the environment that suggests the desolation of war. The cast periodically sings old Black Watch tunes such as “Twa Recruiting Sergeants” and “Gallant Forty-Twa” hauntingly arranged by Associate Director of Music Davey Anderson, but perhaps the most striking aspect of this show is its movement. Going into a show about the Scottish military, the last thing I expected to see was the best bloody ballet I’ve ever seen but that’s precisely what I got. I wouldn’t necessarily call the movement “dance” per se, but it was clear that every movement was meticulously choreographed down to the last minute detail. From combat choreography to elaborate drill exercises and marching, Associate Director of Movement Steven Hoggett’s choreography was utterly breathtaking and proved an invaluable asset to the show.

Director John Tiffany has amassed an amazing ensemble of Scottish actors – each of whom is a credit to their craft and to Scotland. I typically like to mention the standout performances of two or three actors, but I am unable to do so for this show simply because each performer was every bit as brilliant as the next. One of the great strengths of Black Watch is the ability of its fine cast to perform as one unit which not only makes for a stellar show, it also reinforces the theme of brotherhood essential to the storyline. The company rightly took its bow all together – graciously accepting the accolades they’d won together. As an actor, I was truly inspired by the performance of this ensemble, and I would be beyond honored to be among them someday.

The show’s exhilarating finale incorporates the talents of cast member Cameron Barnes, a champion bagpiper. The unique sound of bagpipes is at the same time mournful and joyous; it somehow manages to capture the Celtic spirit with its obstinate drones. I’ll never forget the experience of seeing the ensemble standing at attention as Mr. Barnes marched forward to the sounds of “The Flowers of the Forest” – a traditional tune played for fallen Scottish warriors. From there, the actors launched into an expertly choreographed combination of traditional Black Watch marches and training exercises. As the lights faded, the only sound was of the actors’ labored breathing – exhausted by their exertions. As their breathing softened, the only sound I could hear was the collective pounding of two hundred hearts as we sat in complete awe of what we’d just witnessed. I generally won’t stand for an ovation unless I feel that a show has truly earned it, but I was the first on my feet for Black Watch – emotionally exhausted, tears streaming down my face, and cheering “Alba gu bràth.” Not since the Broadway production of Next to Normal has a show evoked such a visceral reaction within me, and it was amazing to be reminded of the awesome power of theatre to affect people down to our very cores.

With a running time of 110 minutes with no intermission, this show is not appropriate for little ones. The show contains very strong language, loud explosions, and frank discussions about the horrors of war that may frighten some. Black Watch is a harrowing, disturbing, and ultimately enthralling piece that will make you question many of your world views, yet reaffirm your faith in the indomitable human spirit. I am finding it difficult to write this particular review simply because this show defies superlatives. Any compliment that I could give to the cast and crew of Black Watch seems insufficient compared to the unforgettable experience they gave to me. All I can say is this: Black Watch is the epitome of what all live theatre should strive to be.

Director’s Note

In August 2005, a couple of months after I started working at the Nation Theatre of Scotland, I attended a cycle of plays at the Kings Theatre in Edinburgh as part of the International Festival. The cycle was produced by the Galway-based Druid Theatre Company and consisted of all six of JM Synge’s plays performed by the same company of actors over nine hours with breaks for sustenance. It was a truly amazing experience to sit and watch the entire dramatic output of one brilliant playwright. As a celebration of the achievements of Irish theatre, it felt truly national.

I started thinking about the role of the National Theatre of Scotland in relation to the history of Scottish theatre and how we could honour and rouse its traditions. There have been, and continue to be, many great dramatists producing great plays over the years. Major revivals of Scottish classics along with world premieres will always have a strong presence in our program. But the plays are not the whole story.

Fuelled by variety, visual art, music and a deep love of storytelling, Scotland’s artists have created a form of theatre that is as significant and vital as its written drama. It features narration, song, movement, stand-up comedy, film, politics and, above all, an urgent need to connect with its audience. It is often contemporary with world events and issues, although never dry and academic, and therefore deeply relevant and bound to the time in which it is created. It is a distinct form of theatre of which Scotland can be very proud.

It is a tradition that has been fired by, and has found expression in, the work of a great number of theatre companies and artists: John McGrath and 7:84 changed the face of Scottish theatre with The Cheviot, the Stag and the Black, Black Oil, which encompassed 200 years of Scottish history from the Clearances in the 18th century to the discovery of North Sea Oil in the 1970s; Gerry Mulgrew and Communicado collaborated with Liz Lochhead and Edwin Morgan to create visceral and riotous shows such as Mary Queen of Scots Got Her Head Chopped Off and Cyrano de Bergerac; Bill Bryden told the story of dying industry with a great demotic energy in The Ship, performed in the former Harland & Wolff engine she in Govan. All these pieces of theatre used cabaret, spectacle, passion and honesty to communicate with their audiences. It is these productions, among others, that were the inspiration behind the ambition of Black Watch.

This ambition results in a development period and rehearsal process that was unfamiliar to me, writer Greg Burke and the creative team. For the most part we were making it up as we went along. At the end of 2004, in one of the first things she did as the Artistic Director of the National Theatre of Scotland, Vicky Featherstone asked Greg to keep an eye on the story of the Black Watch regiment, who had just returned to Scotland from Camp Dogwood. When I joined the Company in April 2005, Greg had discovered some fascinating stories with real dramatic potential, so we decided to program the piece in our inaugural year as a ‘highly physical piece of political theatre’. I asked Greg not to write a fictional drama set in Iraq, but that instead we should try and tell the ‘real’ stories of the soldiers in their own words. This led to Greg interviewing a group of Black Watch lads in a Fife pub over a couple of months (thanks to our researcher Sophie Johnston), all of whom had just left the regiment. I knew that I wanted to perform the piece in a space in which we could create our own version of the Edinburgh Military Tattoo, with seating banks down either side of an esplanade. This, we found in Edinburgh, in an old drill hall near the Castle that was being used as a car park by the University. For the first time as a director, and through nobody’s fault but my own, I was going into rehearsals without a script. All we had were the interviews, some traditional Black Watch songs and the dimensions of the drill hall.

Luckily, Greg had been secretly writing some fictional scenes set in Dogwood and these made a powerful contrast with the pub interviews. We soon had material from Steven Hoggett, Associate Director (Movement), who was working with the actors on a ‘letters from home’ sequence and brought in a Regimental Sergeant Major to teach us parade marches and Davey Anderson, Associate Director (Music), who was creating radical new arrangements of the Black Watch songs. We also had fantastic support from Sarah Alford-Smith, our Stage Manager, who created a 21st-century rehearsal environment with internet access, DVD players and video cameras and who, along with the actors, collated a goldmine of news reports, radio extracts, documentaries, political speeches, statistics and visual references. Even with all this material, it still wasn’t clear to us whether we had a piece of theatre that would communicate anything to an audience. We continued not to know up until the first night in Edinburgh. Then it became apparent that there was a real connection being made and that we were telling a story that the audience desperately wanted to hear.

Not long into that three-week run at the 2006 Festival Fringe, we realized there was an appetite for Black Watch to tour. Due to the traverse staging and size of floor space needed, conventional theatres were not an option so we started the long and arduous task of searching for possible spaces for the production. As a result of the hard graft of everyone at the National Theatre of Scotland, we have been able to take Black Watch to audiences all over Scotland and beyond, performing in venues as diverse as a disused hydro-electric laboratory in Pitlochry, a warehouse underneath Brooklyn Bridge in New York, a converted train factory in Sydney and an Ice Rink in Toronto. I couldn’t be more honored that the journey continues.

Writer’s Note

There is a pride in Scotland, romanticized perhaps, but a pride nonetheless, about our military traditions. Scotland has always provided a percentage of the British Army that is disproportionate to its population’s size. Where does this martial culture sit alongside the shortbread tin version of the Highlands, of the socialist glory of the former industrial areas? What is the enduring appeal of regiments like the Black Watch?

Young men around the world are often limited to narrow, predetermined roles that prove more fragile and less sustainable under the pressure of growing up. Many of them find that the identities they would choose for themselves aren’t available when they reach adulthood. If the environment does not offer an alternative when this change confronts them, then sometimes they turn to those organizations that are adept at exploiting this need for identity.

During the rehearsals for the original 2006 production, a former Regimental Sergeant Major of the Black Watch gave the actors the benefit of both 267 years of parade ground insults and of the particular attention the regiment pays to what a layman might find trivial. The exact way to wear your uniform, for example. The impulse to turn as much of the world as possible into an acronym. But mostly what he taught them about was pride. To take a pride in yourself. To take a pride in what you are doing. To take a pride in your appearance. To take a pride in what you represent. When the actors first mastered a piece of marching, he took them outside and made them march in the street: he was proud of them and he wanted other people to see what they could do. To me this was indicative of the seductive nature of surrendering yourself to an institution that has refined its appeal to the male psyche’s yearning for a strong identity.

Like any military unit, the Black Watch has to carve out its own identity. It has to see itself and its members as special. It has several tactics for achieving this. Its history is drummed into recruits from the day they enter basic training. Then there are the uniforms: the kilts, and the red hackle that they wear on their Tam O’Shanters. There are the Pipes and Drums, who played a John F Kennedy’s funeral and tour the world.

There is a cachet to be had from serving in the Black Watch, the oldest Highland regiment. They call it the ‘Golden Thread’: the connection that has run through the history of the regiment since its formation. Even today, in our supposedly fractured society, the regiment exists on a different plane. In Iraq, there were lads serving alongside their fathers. There were groups of friends from even the smallest communities: the army does best in those areas of the country the UK Ministry of Defence describes as having ‘settled communities’. The army does not recruit well in London or any other big city; fighting units tend to be more at home with homogeneity than with metropolitanism or multiculturalism. The central core of the regiment has always been the heartland of Perthshire, Fife, Dundee and Angus.

When the clans of Scotland used to fight, they would have people who stood in front of the soldiers and recited the names of their ancestors. In the end, our soldiers don’t fight for Britain or for the Government or for Scotland. They fight for their regiment. Their company. Their platoon. And for their mates.

Photo Gallery

Scott Fletcher	Chris Starkie

Photos by Manuel Harlan

Cast:

• Cammy: Ryan Fletcher
• Granty: Richard Rankin
• Rossco: Adam McNamara
• Stewarty: Chris Starkie
• Macca: Cameron Barnes
• Nabsy: Gavin Jon Wright
• Writer and Sergeant: Robert Jack
• Kenzie: Scott Fletcher
• Fraz: Andrew Fraser
• Officer and Lord Elgin: Stephen McCole

Production Team:

• Director: John Tiffany
• Associate Director (Movement): Steven Hoggett
• Associate Director (Music): Davey Anderson
• Set Design: Laura Hopkins
• Lighting Design: Colin Grenfell
• Sound Design: Gareth Fry
• Costume Design: Jessica Brettle
• Video Design: Leo Warner and Mark Grimmer (59Ltd)
• Associate Movement Director: Vicki Manderson
• Staff Director: Joe Douglas
• Casting Director: Anne Henderson
• U.S. Stage Manager: Joseph Smelser*
• Company Stage Manager: Carrie Hutcheon
• Deputy Stage Manager: Alison Brodie
• Assistant Stage Manager: Katie Hutcheson
• Technical Manager: David Graham
• Lighting Supervisor: Neill Pollard
• Lighting Technician: Jon Meggat
• Sound Supervisor: Chris Reid
• Sound Technician: Matthe Ferrie
• Technician: John Dinsdale
• Wardrobe Supervisor: Christine Dove
• Wardrobe Technician: Hannah Clark
• International Representation: Michael Mushalla
• Communications and Events Officer: Adam McDougall

Disclaimer: Shakespeare Theatre Company provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

One of the things I like most about live theatre is its ability to teach and engender conversation as well as entertain. My favorite feeling in the world is being completely emotionally drained after an enthralling dramatic performance. Given my personal preference for heart-wrenching drama, I do tend to forget that sometimes theatre is meant to be nothing but fun. The British are masters of that glorious form of theatre known as farce — full of flapping doors, mistaken identities, and people caught in compromising positions all for the express purpose of delighting an audience. Playwright Alan Ayckbourn’s Taking Steps is one such piece — a fabulous farce that is entertaining from beginning to end, and Constellation Theatre’s production of this hilarious romp is thoroughly imaginative, brilliantly staged, and funny as all get-out!

Set in a large old house in the English countryside, Taking Steps tells the story of Elizabeth (Tia Shearer), a dancer unhappy in her marriage to Roland (Matthew R. Wilson), a wealthy bucket tycoon (that’s right — buckets) who is planning to buy the property from current owner Leslie (Doug Wilder). Thrown into the mix are Elizabeth’s brother Mark (Dylan Myers), who is trying to save his marriage to the flighty Kitty (Megan Graves), and real estate solicitor Tristram (Matthew McGee), whose social anxiety makes him afraid of his own shadow. Hilarity abounds as wives try to leave dreary husbands and landlords try to wrangle contract signatures out of drunken tenants — all while not knowing that the others are also in the house.

The actors all hold their own and the cast performs wonderfully together as an ensemble. Matthew McGee as the nervous Tristram is particularly enjoyable — he had the audience eating out of the palm of his hand from his very first entrance. Not to advocate alcoholism at all, but Matthew R. Wilson’s pompous Roland got funnier and funnier the more the character drank — it was clearly a well-studied and well-executed performance. Tia Shearer as the long-suffering Elizabeth was at times a little too over-the-top for my tastes, but she brought a unique vitality and humor to the character that made me a definite fan of hers by show’s end.

What is most striking about this show is its staging. Ayckbourn began his career writing plays to be presented in the round and director Allison Arkell Stockman has honored this quite reverently. I’m always fascinated by non-traditional playing spaces, so this production’s set had me giddy from the moment I entered the tiny theatre. Although the play’s scenes take place on three different floors of the house, the rooms are laid out on the same plane surrounded by the audience. On both of the long sides of the elliptical stage, there are runways representing staircases complete with banisters skewed to a steep angle. I must admit that when I first saw these, I thought it would be a ridiculous disaster. Happily, I was proved wrong. The ways in which each actor leaned into the odd angle of these “staircases” not only effectively communicated the character’s motivation — they also ingeniously sold the illusion of a three-story house. These non-traditional spaces often ask a lot of audience’s imaginations, but Ms. Stockman’s graceful and precise staging conveyed the sense of a real space clearly evident to even the least imaginative audience member. I cannot give enough praise to Ms. Stockman and scenic designer A.J. Guban for the sheer brilliance of this design.

With a running time of approximately two hours and forty minutes, Taking Steps is a delightful evening of light theatre guaranteed to satisfy. I would not recommend this show for little ones for two reasons. Although the material is never more vulgar than “questionable” (think light PG-13), much of the refreshing wit so often absent from farces will go over kids’ heads and, like I said, it’s long. That said — young teens and up will love this hysterically funny show as well as Constellation Theatre’s unique and fantastic staging.

Director’s Notes

Taking Steps is a joyful way to jump into our next season. Celebrated playwright Alan Ayckbourn gives us a ridiculous comedy about six quirky Brits and their madcap adventures in a three-story Victorian home. As you step into the theatre, you enter a haunted, former brothel; since no two seats have the same view of the stage, you gain your own unique perspective on the world of the play.

Although most farces historically revolve around people slamming doors and jumping out of windows, this particular farce has neither. Onstage you will see three floors of a house connected by two flights of stairs, yet everything is performed on the same plane. With this distinctive architecture, Ayckbourn invites you to see all the action taking place at once while leaving his own characters in the dark.

Ayckbourn’s witty way with words is on display from the start, as is his gift for creating comic misunderstandings. He takes joy in setting up ridiculous circumstances that lead to prime opportunities for physical comedy. As the characters cross paths, sometimes nearly colliding, a mix of precise and spontaneous events drives the hilarious plot.

Yet despite their extraordinary circumstances, Ayckbourn’s characters are real people who are invested in their dreams and defeated by their fears. They all struggle with communication; we see in them the human tendencies to hold back from speaking hard truths, and to not truly listen, even to our loved ones. The play urges us to be open and honest in our own lives, to have the courage to identify our true dreams and to pursue them.

Taking Steps is a comedy with great heart. The multiple levels, presented together in the round, remind us that at any given time, we are only aware of our small part in the larger world. There is always more going on that meets the eye.

Enjoy the show!

Allison Arkell Stockman, Founding Artistic Director

Photo Gallery

Tia Shearer	Matthew McGee
Matthew R. Wilson, Matthew McGee, Dylan Myers	Matthew R. Wilson and Tia Shearer
Tia Shearer

Photos by Andrew Propp

The Cast

• Elizabeth: Tia Shearer
• Mark: Dylan Myers
• Tristram: Matthew McGee
• Roland: Matthew R. Wilson
• Leslie: Doug Wilder
• Kitty: Megan Graves

The Creative Team

• Director: Allison Arkell Stockman
• Assistant Director: Ashley Ivey
• Scenic Designer: A.J. Guban
• Lighting Designer: Cory Ryan Frank
• Technical Director: Jason Krznarich
• Sound Designer: Brendon Vierra
• Properties Designer: Kevin Laughon
• Costume Designer: Kendra Rai
• Fight Choreographer: Matthew R. Wilson
• Production/Stage Manager: Cheryl Ann Gnerlich

Disclaimer: Constellation Theatre Company provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

Very few things symbolize the American dream better than packing up one’s entire life and setting off for New York City in search of fame, fortune, and glory. Combine that with the irresistible allure of the bright lights of Broadway, and you get the recipe for a unique brand of passion that drives legions of hopefuls to brave nigh insurmountable odds and pursue their dreams. As Americans we’re all used to the rags-to-riches rhetoric fed to us since childhood, but there is a harsh reality that lurks behind the glamour. Those who pursue the “big time” often suffer years of rejection only to discover that it may never happen. Nevertheless the starry-eyed dreamers hike up their tights, swallow their pride, and pour their all into their art. For that, they will always have my undying respect.

Dealing with troubled pasts and the challenges of pursuing the spotlight are the key themes of Michael Bennett’s classic musical A Chorus Line. With dialogue based on the experiences of real performers and an iconic score by Marvin Hamlisch and Edward Kleban, A Chorus Line tells the story of seventeen dancers all auditioning for an unnamed Broadway show directed by Zach – an obsessive perfectionist with something to prove. Being very particular about his cast, Zach forces each auditioner to open up about their childhoods, their puberty, and what drives them to dance. What ensues is a two-hour exploration of motivation, identity, and psychology – all framed with great music and glorious dancing. Rockville Musical Theatre’s production offers everything I’ve ever loved about this show with passion and energy.

Director Anya Randall Nebel has put together an entertaining and heartwarming production that pays homage to everything that makes this show wonderful. Vincent Musgrave’s choreography, while not astounding, is pleasant to watch and contains numerous refreshing reinterpretations of the choreography so often associated with this show. The highlights of the technical elements for me were the orchestra and vocal arrangements – both under the masterful musical direction of John Michael d’Haviland. His arrangement of the show’s most recognizable tune, “What I Did For Love,” was chilling and breathed fresh life into a song that has become somewhat hackneyed over the last generation.

The cast is full of vibrant, talented people all performing at the top of their game. The dulcet-voiced Mark Hamberger was adorable as the hapless Al and played extremely well off of Catherine Oh in a hilarious turn as Al’s tone-deaf wife Kristine. PJ Mitchell deftly tackled one of the toughest monologues in musical theatre as the tragic Paul. Cody Cooley was enjoyable as Mike, but I was very disappointed that he didn’t wear tap shoes during one of the most iconic tap numbers ever (even though it was plain to see that Mr. Cooley had the tap chops). Laurie Newton had the whole house laughing as Val, an acerbic firecracker with major body-image issues.

The cast had its ups and downs, but there were two who stood out to me as breakout stars. With polish, panache, and one hell of a voice, Taurean Barber’s Richie was incredible. Mr. Barber’s extensive training was evident in every move he made and he was clearly one of the strongest dancers of the group. Without a doubt, my favorite performance of the evening was Kimberly Murphy’s feisty Puerto Rican Diana. Ms. Murphy expertly ran the gamut between hilarious and heartbreaking and was electrifying throughout. This being her first community theatre appearance, I very much look forward to seeing more of her on DC area stages.

The show runs two hours with a 15 minute intermission. With a bit of strong language and some adult themes here and there, this is not a show for little ones. On the whole, I would’ve liked to have seen a crisper cohesion among the dancers, but their hard work was plain to be seen. My hat is emphatically tipped to anyone who can dance their heart out for two hours straight and retain the ability to breathe normally. Rockville Musical Theatre’s production of A Chorus Line is one not to be missed if you’re looking for fun summer entertainment.

The Cast:

• Cassie Ferguson: Alicia Sweeney
• Sheila Bryant: Christina Addabbo Prete
• Valerie Clark: Laurie Newton
• Diana Morales: Kimberly Murphy
• Judy Turner: Karen Toth
• Kristine Urich: Catherine Oh
• Maggie Winslow: Rikki Howie
• Bebe Benzenheimer: Erica Ferguson
• Connie Wong: Kylie Cooley
• Tricia: Sofia Cabrales
• Vicki: Leanne Frenkel
• Lois: Stephanie Finkenstaedt
• Mike Costa: Cody Cooley
• Richie Walters: Taurean Barber
• Don Kerr: Daniel Paredez
• Paul San Marco: PJ Mitchell
• Mark Anthony: Robbie Dinsmore
• Gregory Gardner: Duane Monahan
• Bobby Mills III: Jimmy Biertanowski
• Alan DeLuca: Mark Hamberger
• Larry: Ramon Munoz
• Zach: Jivon Jackson
• Roy: Julius Williams
• Headband Boy: Aaron Lempert
• Cut Dancer: Willie Garner

The Orchestra

• Conductor/Keyboard: J. Michael d’Haviland
• Keyboard: Marci Shegogue
• Reeds: Gwyn Jones, Katrina Ambrose, Blake Rose
• Trumpets: Paul Weiss, Mark Allred, Curt Nette
• Trombone: Olin Nettles
• Bass: Randy Dahlberg
• Percussion: Joel Frisch
• Drums: Jim Hoffman

The Production Staff

• Producer: Malca Giblin
• Director: Anya Randall Nebel
• Musical Director: J. Michael d’Haviland
• Assistant Director: J. Michael d’Haviland
• Choreographer: Vincent Musgrave
• Costume Designer: Anya Randall Nebel
• Stage Manager: Noam Lautman
• Assistant Stage Manager: Sharon Addabbo
• Technical Director: Daniel Tobiassen
• Set Designer: William T. Fleming
• Lighting Co-Designers: Dana Sato, Helen Garcia-Alton
• Light Board Operator: Helen Garcia-Alton
• Follow Spot Operator: Dylan Stieber
• Sound Designer: Daniel Tobiassen
• Audio Engineer: Sam Horwich
• Audio Prompter –Maija Mikkelsen
• Set Construction/Painting: Nancy Carlin, Tony Dwyer, William T. Fleming, Malca Giblin, Sam Horwich, Darrick Householder, William Kolodrubetz, Maija Mikkelsen, Dana Sato, Daniel Tobiassen
• Running Crew: Sharon Addabbo, Malca Giblin, Ellen Ryan
• Audition Assistants: Sharon Addabbo, Nancy Carlin, Christal Taylor
• Program Photographer: Mark McLaughlin
• House Manager: Jonathan Cagle-Mulberg
• Program: Den and Malca Giblin

Disclaimer: Rockville Musical Theatre provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

When I was in college, my most beloved professor was a gay man who’d lived in New York City in the early ’80’s. He told us that when he was asked if he ever saw any of his friends from New York, he always responded the same way: “I can’t, they’re all dead.” This response confused most people, but my LGBT studies classmates and I all (thankfully) understood immediately. Even though we couldn’t completely empathize because we were all born during the final years of the Reagan administration, my classmates and I all understood that our dear teacher was referring to the AIDS epidemic that claimed the lives of thousands of members of our community while the government stayed silent. During the first years, nobody knew what this strange virus was – only that the onslaught seemed to target gay men. When politicians turned blind eyes to the decimation of an already marginalized community, a few extraordinarily brave individuals began a movement to empower those who had no voice.

Playwright Larry Kramer was one such individual, and his theatrical magnum opus The Normal Heart helped to open the world’s eyes to the ever-growing menace (I say theatrical magnum opus so as not to impugn Mr. Kramer’s work as an LGBT activist). Since its off-Broadway premier in 1985, The Normal Heart has been considered the first major work to address the subject of HIV/AIDS (though the scourge’s name is fittingly never mentioned in the script) and its accolades have been many. Numerous professional and amateur productions have been mounted over the past generation, and the play was given its first Broadway run in the fall of 2011. This Tony® Award-winning production has been remounted with glorious valor at Arena Stage and I had the pleasure, nay – honor, of attending the opening night performance.

Director George C. Wolfe masterfully helmed this production; he presented it in a way that paid homage to those who survived those terrible times without seeming dated. The use of projections made changes of locale and time readily understandable and added a chilling bit of modernism that really resonated with me. At times I felt that the acting was a little over the top, but I also feel that Mr. Wolfe adroitly chose to give a light-hearted undercurrent to a very somber show. The sorrows were deftly balanced with humor to advance the message of hope evident in every word of Mr. Kramer’s script. The choices with which I personally disagreed took nothing away from my enjoyment of the overall production, and I applaud Mr. Wolfe for his unique ability to harness and unleash the power of this show at will.

The performances of the ensemble were first-rate across the board. Patrick Breen’s stubborn yet compassionate portrayal of indefatigable agitator and activist Ned Weeks was iconic. Mr. Breen gave depth and a beautifully flawed humanity to a character that could otherwise have seemed one-dimensional. As an actor, I feel that I learned quite a bit simply by watching his outstanding performance. As Stonewall veteran Mickey Marcus, Michael Berresse was awe-inspiring. His comic timing and overall likability made his moment of weakness all the more heartbreaking. Mr. Berresse always embodied Mickey with a quiet strength beneath all of his actions, and it was a delight to watch. As the lone female of the group, Patricia Wettig was nothing short of a lightning rod. Her desperate but nigh-unshakable Dr. Emma Brookner was a powerhouse from the first scene onward. While I felt like her fiery passion from the outset left little room for the character to grow, I was ready to bound to my feet after her revolutionary monologue. The chemistry shared by the ensemble was remarkable, and the standing ovation they received that night was well-earned and greatly deserved.

During the intermission, I happened to overhear a conversation that I couldn’t resist joining. I met two wonderful men who’d been fighting HIV/AIDS for many years, one of whom actually shared a jail cell with Mr. Kramer. They had been arrested for protesting by police officers wearing yellow gloves as though the protestors were lepers – prompting the chant “you’ll see it on the news, your gloves don’t match your shoes.” They indulged my curiosity and gave me their first-hand accounts of the injustices over which they triumphed. More importantly, they helped to pass on a piece of LGBT history I might never have known. I will always be grateful for that brief interaction, and for the indomitable strength of people like Philip, Michael, and Mr. Larry Kramer.

The Normal Heart runs two hours and thirty minutes with a fifteen minute intermission. Strong language and disturbing depictions of the horrors of HIV/AIDS render this show inappropriate for young children, but I would highly recommend it for high school students. It is a lesson in American history that you are not likely to learn in school, but one that still so desperately needs to be shared. This show centers around a political movement whose mantra was “Silence = Death,” and Arena Stage’s production will doubtlessly inspire conversations that can end the silence and save lives. That, to me, is the true power and beauty of The Normal Heart.

Photo Gallery

Patricia Wettig as Dr. Emma Brookner and Patrick Breen as Ned Weeks	Christopher J. Hanke as Tommy Boatwright and Patrick Breen as Ned Weeks
Patrick Breen as Ned Weeks and Luke MacFarlane as Felix Turner	Tom Berklund as Grady, Christopher J. Hanke as Tommy Boatwright, Michael Berresse as Mickey Marcus and Nick Mennell as Bruce Niles
Patrick Breen as Ned Weeks and Luke MacFarlane as Felix Turner, with Tom Berklund as Grady	The cast

Photos by Scott Suchman

Cast

(in order of appearance)

• Craig Donner/Grady: Tom Berklund
• Mickey Marcus: Michael Berresse
• Ned Weeks: Patrick Breen
• David: Chris Dinolfo
• Dr. Emma Brookner: Patricia Wettig
• Bruce Niles: Nick Mennell
• Felix Turner: Luke MacFarlane
• Ben Weeks: John Procaccino
• Tommy Boatwright: Christopher J. Hanke
• Hiram Keebler/Examining Doctor: Jon Levenson

Creative Team

• Playwright: Larry Kramer
• Director: George C. Wolfe
• Set Designer: David Rockwell
• Costume Designer: Martin Pakledinaz
• Lighting Designer: David Weiner
• Original Music/Sound Designer: David Van Tieghem
• Projection Design: Batwin + Robin Productions
• Restaging Director: Leah C. Gardiner
• Stage Manager: Amber Dickerson
• Asst. Stage Manager: Kurt Hall
• General/Production Manager: Ian Pool
• Technical Director: Scott Schreck
• Property Master: Chuck Fox
• Master Electrician: Christopher V. Lewton
• Master Sound Technician: Timothy H. Thompson
• Costume Director: Joseph P. Salasovich
• Artistic Associate and Casting Director: Daniel Pruksarnukul
• Casting: Telsey + Company, Will Cantler, CSA

Disclaimer: Arena Stage provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

Food has brought cultures together for centuries, and we Americans seem to be united in our adoration of chain restaurants. After having spent over a year in the restaurant business myself, I have experienced firsthand what an awkwardly intimate environment a restaurant can be — both public and personal at the same time. You try to innocuously sip your cocktail or chew your crudités while the couple to your left is all over each other and the frazzled parents to your right are desperately trying to control their rambunctious brood. It’s a cultural miasma into which we seem inexorably drawn, yet we keep going back for those little slices of Americana.

When I first heard the premise of The Big Meal, I expected a lighthearted linear comedy about a large family publicly airing their grievances while ordering too much food and inducing migraines in the wait staff. When I saw Studio Theatre 2nd Stage’s production of Dan LeFranc’s dark comedy, what I got was a rapturously engaging inquiry into the nature of the contemporary American family. Eight actors of varying ages portray five generations of a family as they struggle with children, relationships, disease, and life in general — all within the milieu of an increasingly sinister chain restaurant in Smalltown, USA.

The play begins with a series of dates blossoming into a relationship between a Young Woman (Ashley Faye Dillard) and a Young Man (Josh Adams). The rapid-fire pace and the idiosyncratic rhythm were a little jarring at first but after I got used to it, I realized that this was the perfect way to present these vignettes. It let the audience know that this play would be an album of snapshots detailing this family’s ups and downs. From there, the characters grow up into a Man (Chris Genebach) and a Woman (Hyla Matthews) and navigate through the social constructs of marriage and children, all under the watchful eyes of an Older Woman (Annie Houston) and an Older Man (Matt Dougherty). Rounding out the cast are a Boy (Sam O’Brien) and a Girl (Maya Brettell) and a silent waitress (Sarah Taurchini) running the show and providing beautiful dark symbolism (I’d say more, but then I’d spoil one of the elements that I liked most). As each of the characters ages, their mantle is taken up by the older actors as the younger actors instantly transform into various children, cousins, friends, boyfriends, and girlfriends of the family to continue the cycle.

It seemed to me that Director Johanna Gruenhut did not direct a play as much as she conducted a symphony. Every segue and transformation was executed seamlessly with Ms. Gruenhut carefully orchestrating the emotional highs and lows. The cacophony of the entire family yelling at each other across the table juxtaposed with extended periods of utter silence were pure poetry. Certain props and a few subtle theatrical gestures (a pair of glasses, a necklace, a pattern of drumming on the table, etc.) were passed on from generation to generation as though they were heirlooms. These tiny details told so many stories in a way that only works in live theatre — it was electrifying to watch.

Ms. Gruenhut has assembled a multi-generational cast whose bond is immediately palpable. It is one thing to play a family, it is quite another for these actors to love each other in so many different ways and create one cohesive synergy that remains constant even as the characters change. Every member of the cast was incredibly talented, and it was astonishing to me how well they communicated and played off of each others’ strengths — particularly in how they approached playing older versions of the characters already firmly established by the younger actors. Ms. Dillard was delightful as she set the quirky rhythm of the show, and her complete emotional breakdown in the middle of the show was one of the most heart-wrenching things I’ve seen in years — especially because the tone shifted so abruptly. Mr. Genebach’s comic timing was nothing short of brilliant and his honesty in the darker moments was haunting. Mr. Dougherty was also a standout. His transitions were the most profound of the group, and his depiction of disease-induced mental degeneration was stunningly graceful and poignant. Sam O’Brien and Maya Brettell impressively held their own amongst well-seasoned performers; I can see a bright future onstage for both. I’ve always said that my favorite thing in the world is to watch talented artists of any kind who truly love their art playing in their element — that is exactly what I got from the director and all nine cast members.

Timothy R. Mackabee’s elegantly simple set design created the ideal ethereal restaurant space. The movable tables and chairs, as well as the long upstage booth for inactive performers, served not only the story but the rhythm and tempo of this particular production. Adriana Diaz’ nicely balanced costumes are non-descript enough to serve the fluidity of the show, yet vibrant enough to clearly illustrate the character changes. Ms. Diaz is assisted by Rebecca DeLapp. John Burkland’s subtle and intimate lighting design alluringly set all the appropriate moods and helped clearly define the changes in time and physical space. Perhaps the most striking technical element is the amazing sound design by Elisheba Ittoop. Crowd noises, original music, white noise, and complete silence aurally illustrate the metaphysical world of this show and ground it in glorious reality.

Studio Theatre 2nd Stage, Ms. Gruenhut, and her cast and crew have put together a scintillatingly nuanced, expertly balanced, and thoroughly entertaining production that holds up a mirror to the best and worst of our families. This show runs a refreshing 80 minutes with no intermission and runs through May 20. While I highly recommend this show for adults, it’s probably best not to bring the little ones because of adult themes and language (never mind the two very talented kids in the show itself!). Once you attune yourself to the unusual rhythm of this show (it only takes a few moments), you will find yourself completely enamored with the unique blend of pathos and humor that make The Big Meal at Studio Theatre an immensely satisfying and wonderful evening of theatre.

Photo Gallery

Ashley Faye Dillard and Josh Adams	Chris Genebach and Hyla Matthews
Matt Dougherty, Sam O’Brien,	Matt Dougherty, Sam O’Brien,
Annie Houston and Matt Dougherty

Photos by Carol Pratt

Cast

• Girl: Maya Brettell
• Boy: Sam O’Brien
• Young Woman: Ashley Faye Dillard
• Young Man: Josh Adams
• Woman: Hyla Matthews
• Man: Chris Genebach*
• Older Woman: Annie Houston
• Older Man: Matt Dougherty
• The Server: Sarah Taurchini

Designers/Crew

• Director: Johanna Gruenhut
• Set Design: Timothy R. Mackabee
• Lighting Design: John Burkland
• Sound Design/Original Music: Elisheba Ittoop
• Costume Design: Adriana Diaz
• Production Technical Director: Charlie Olson
• Dramaturg: Lauren Halvorsen
• Assistant Director: Brian Crane
• Assistant Costume Design: Rebecca DeLapp
• Stage Manager/Sound Board Operator: Hope Villanueva
• Floor Manager: Ryan Breen
• Light Board Operator: Kara Sparling

Disclaimer: The Studio Theatre provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

In the twenty-first century, our lives have become almost completely dominated by technology. With the advent of Facebook, iPhones, and something called the “blogosphere” (which I still don’t fully understand), we’ve entered into a world in which deeply personal messages are sent with our thumbs and our innermost thoughts are communicated in 140 characters or fewer. The paradox inherent in all of this technology is that while it is meant to bring us closer together, we can’t help but feel isolated and a bit disconnected from one another. This paradox is the central theme of Sarah Ruhl’s Dead Man’s Cell Phone, an absurdist commentary on the role cell phones play in our everyday lives. Silver Spring Stage delivers an entertaining production of this thought-provoking play.

The play centers on Jean, a quirky and lovable twentysomething who discovers a dead body at a café when his cell phone rings incessantly. Rather than go running for help, she appoints herself the man’s personal messaging service and becomes embroiled in the man’s rocky personal life and shady business dealings. Jean interacts with the deceased’s estranged family, spinning a web of lies that inexorably leads her to a deeper understanding of her own life through a series of events that give the play a feeling reminiscent of a darker While You Were Sleeping. Despite certain plot points that made it difficult to take the characters seriously and the fact that Ms. Ruhl unfortunately tended to beat the audience over the head with her message, it was a fun and unusual evening of theatre with some great laughs.

One of my biggest theatrical pet peeves is a lack of vision in a show’s direction – a blunder to which this play thankfully did not fall victim. While I was not the biggest fan of the script, I really do have to hand it to director Jacy D’Aiutolo for making otherwise incredulous moments seem at least somewhat grounded in reality. Set designer Ken Ambrose and his design team have crafted a set all in silver that functions quite well as a bleak, mechanical backdrop for the play’s many locales, both realistic and metaphysical.

With a pitch-perfect nerdy adorability, Alyssa Sanders is delightful as Jean. Even the moments in which the character is written to be a little too cutesy and whimsical for my tastes were enjoyable because of Ms. Sanders. Andrew Greenleaf is also a standout as Gordon, the title character who speaks to us from beyond the grave. His combination of poise and pathos really helps to fully flesh out an otherwise one-dimensional character.

The rest of the cast rounds out nicely with adept performances from everyone, but the highlight of the evening for me was Sarah Holt as Mrs. Gottlieb, the deceased’s long-suffering mother. Her snooty, vapid demeanor and deadpan delivery made her a captivating scene-stealer (and what a voice!).

Mr. D’Aiutolo uses four dancers to manage the scene changes – a choice that I’m not certain was right for this production. I don’t know precisely for what the script called, but their apparent control over the actors and their interjection into the action for random dance numbers seemed contrived and unnecessary. While it didn’t work for me personally, I’m sure that it fit with Mr. D’Aiutolo’s vision for the show. As stated before, I’d rather a director have a vision with which I disagree than have no direction at all so kudos to Mr. D’Aiutolo for taking a risk.

With moments of adult language and themes, this is not a show for the little ones. Whether you find it brilliant or cheesy, Silver Spring Stage’s Dead Man’s Cell Phone is a well-directed and well-performed production of (in my opinion) a so-so show that, despite its theatrical shortcomings, both entertains and asks questions.

Cast

• Jean: Alyssa Sanders
• Gordon: Andrew Greenleaf
• Mrs. Gottlieb: Sarah Holt
• Hermia: Erin Gallalee
• Dwight: Scott Sherven
• The Other Woman / The Stranger: Ana Maria Mutchler
• Dancers: Lizzie Albert, Amanda Shafer Berman, Maya Davis, Heather Dixon

Production Staff

• Producer: Pam Burks
• Director: Jacy D’Aiutolo
• Stage Manager: Pam Burks
• Set Designer: Ken Ambrose
• Master Carpenter: Ken Ambrose
• Construction & Painting Assistants: Jennifer Ambrose, Martin Buffano, Dave Burks, Peter Caress, Andy Greenleaf, Ken Lee, Whitney Moore, Toshio Nagasaka, Alyssa Sanders
• Properties & Set Dressing: Pam Burks
• Lighting Designer: Peter Caress
• Sound Designer: Jamie Coupar
• Choreographer: Allison Otto
• Combat Choreographer: Lena Winter
• Light Board Operators: Dave Burks, Peter Caress, Bob Scott
• Sounds Board Operator: Pam Burks
• Costume Designer: Crystal Fergusson
• Make-up & Hair Design: Crystal Fergusson
• Cell Phone Ballet voices: Cory Atwood, Pam Burks, Mattie Cohan, Tommy Coupar, Jacy D’Aiutolo, Brandon Derwyn, Cara Duckworth, Mike Galizia, Seth Ghitelman, AJ Johnson, Natalie McManus, Melinda Miller, Whitney Moore, Sam Rabinovitz, Kristen Skolnik, Andy Spatz, Bill Strein, Gary Sullivan, Lena Winter

Disclaimer: Silver Spring Stage provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

As a former rhetoric major, I used to loathe having my persuasive pieces meticulously eviscerated by my teachers – constantly hearing that my argument wasn’t clear and that I wasn’t connecting with my audience. Never in a million years did I imagine myself being enthralled by a play whose entire plot consists of just that, but that is precisely what happened when I attended the East Coast première of Lissa Levin’s Sex and Education presented by Doorway Arts Ensemble and Arts Alive Theatre. The production team, director Perry T. Schwartz, and the tiny but terrific cast of three delivered an engaging and passionate performance of Ms. Levin’s disturbing yet hilarious and evocative script.

Originally conceived for the 2009 Kennedy Center Page-to-Stage Festival and first performed at the 2010 Capital Fringe Festival, Sex and Education tells the story of Joe Marks (Jonathan Douglass), a high-school basketball star who doesn’t feel the need to take his education seriously given the glorious career promised to him by every college in the nation. His English teacher Miss Edwards (Ellen Mansueto) catches him passing a filthy (and poorly-worded) note to his girlfriend – cheerleader Hannah Hunter (Emily Thompson). As punishment, Miss Edwards keeps Joe for hours after class and forces him to rewrite his note so that it better achieves his initial rhetorical purpose – convincing Hannah to have sex with him. Thus begins a mental and emotional odyssey for both teacher and student as each questions their own goals and how to effectively and ethically pursue them.

In his director’s notes Mr. Schwartz discusses his proclivity toward directing scripts that only work in the medium of the theatre, and Sex and Education is indeed one such piece. Having the characters step out of the “established reality” of the dialogue and conversationally speak their innermost thoughts to the audience wouldn’t work on film, but it was the perfect device to reveal each character’s true motivations to a theatrical audience. Mr. Schwartz’s innate sense of motion and energy was clearly reflected in the staging and use of the set, brilliantly designed by Sean Urbantke. For a show set predominantly in a room rife with traditionally defined rules of movement, Mr. Schwartz deftly avoided the pitfall of stagnation and gave his actors free rein to express and explore their complex emotions physically – a treat for the viewer. The technical elements worked together seamlessly to give this script the polished and professional look, sound, and feel that it deserves.

As Joe, Mr. Douglass possessed all the charm and swagger befitting the archetype of his character, yet he also displayed innocence and a youthful naïveté that grounded the character in reality and earned the audience’s respect. While some moments felt slightly forced, his performance overall was honest, endearing, and a delight to watch. Ms. Thompson’s portrayal of cheerleader Hannah was surprisingly powerful given the character’s lack of stage time. She acted more as a theatrical framing device toward the play’s beginning – turning Miss Edwards’ English lessons into hilarious cheer routines. As the play progresses however, Ms. Thompson’s skillful performance of Hannah’s few interjections into the main action showed her to be quite an intelligent and capable young lady (with impeccable grammar to boot!).

The standout performance for me was Ellen Mansueto as Miss Edwards. Her portrayal of a long-suffering teacher making one last effort to change a young person’s life before ending her career was astonishing in its honesty and brilliant in its simplicity. From the outset, Ms. Mansueto’s subtle deadpan delivery eschewed every stereotype associated with the jaded teacher character (I’m thinking South Park’s Cartman – “how do I reach these keeeeeeds?”) and established Miss Edwards as strong yet vulnerable, wise yet flawed, sarcastic yet compassionate, and always dedicated to her mission even if she doesn’t always know what it is. As if that weren’t enough, she’s also a riot. Her role as the lifeless teacher we all knew and tolerated in high school was turned on its ear with the injection of Ms. Mansueto’s razor-sharp dry wit. Considering’s Ms. Mansueto’s real-life career as an educator, it’s no wonder that she connected so well to this role and her real passion for education shone through in every scene.

With its frank discussion of teen sexuality and copious amounts of profanity (effective, not excessive), this show is definitely not fare for the whole family. However if you’re looking for a funny, thought-provoking, and oddly (ironically?) educational night at the theatre, I would highly recommend Doorway Arts Ensemble’s Sex and Education. Mr. Schwartz and his cast and crew have put together an exceptional show that, despite its simple premise, asks incredibly complex questions and satisfies almost as much as… learning.

Director’s Note

I recently read an article by playwright/actor Sam Shepard in which he said that his plays would not work as film. Shepard’s plays belong in the theatre, are of the theatre, are “theatrical.” Since I am both a theatre director and a film director, I like to think I know what works in each medium. I agree completely with Sam Shepard. His plays will only work in the theatre. When I select a play, I look for those types of plays that work only on the stage. Last year, I directed Samuel Beckett’s Endgame. I chose it because of its theatricality, and because I believed I had a good idea of how to make it work. Beckett and Shepard write serious plays that have comedy in them.

Sex and Education by Lissa Levin is a comic play that has a lovely serious thought behind it. It is unusually theatrical for what some might think is only a situation comedy. Ms Levin made her living for some time as a writer of situation comedies for television, but she understands that television and theatre are different media. So with that understanding, she has written Sex and Education as a wonderfully theatrical play that uses the theatre to tell the story and to reveal complex characters in a comic situation.

As a director, I have tried to enhance all the theatrical elements of her play to tell this interesting story. We hope you will laugh, perhaps shed a tear and come to understand how this very theatrical play relates to you, the audience, and your lives.

– Director Perry T. Schwartz

Cast

• Miss Edwards: Ellen Mansueto
• Joe Marks: Jonathan Douglass
• Hannah Hunter: Emily Thompson

Crew

• Producers: Claire Myles, Perry T. Schwartz
• Director: Perry T. Schwartz
• Stage Manager: Theresa Hindersinn
• Costumes: Ellen Mansueto
• Set Design: Sean Urbantke
• Lighting Design: Christopher Campanella
• Sound Design: Jay Gilman
• Composer: Roger Coleman
• Cheer Choreography: Alden Kilbourne

Disclaimer: Doorway Arts Ensemble provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.