The disappointments and under achievements of the masses have continued through the generations like diseases of the blood as the mid 20th century social experiment of financial cleansing of the cities left contemporary humanity fat, stultified and withdrawn. The nuclear family has been replaced by, well, replacements; and step relations are the norm while intergenerational fellowship is almost nonexistent. The contemporary suburban trinity of conformity, authority and cable television replaced intellectual and artistic challenge while shopping as recreation became mainstream leisure activity. There is simply nothing else to do and the only conceivable object of real monetary value that can be possessed is an old Springsteen guitar pick; and that is not available in any K Mart or Bed, Bath and Beyond.

And so we have the fundament of How I Paid for College, Helen Hayes Award winner Marc Acito’s compact adaptation of his own book for The Hub Theatre. This is not Acito’s first adaptation by The Hub and he may well be on his way to becoming the contemporary Neil Simon as Edward Zanni (Alex Brightman) tries to escape his constipated existence as “The Prisoner of Some Suburb in New Jersey.” Edward is an actor with theatre programmed into the nuclei of his cellular being. All he desires is to take his professional training at Juilliard, a school so enamored of its own self-importance that it charges $50,000.00 a year for its trainees to binge drink in gay bars after Method class. Edward embarks upon a scheme to beg, borrow and steal the $50 grand to at least pay for his first year at Juilliard. Alex yearns to leave his shattered, suburban home and embark upon that great river crossing to reinvent himself in New York as an actor. That is not going to happen but it will take a 75 minute uproarious monologue until he and we find this out.

The story is in the mode of safe TV situation comedies with a touch of “Arrested Development” and plot contrivances left over from “McHale’s Navy.” Though it might be said that Brightman is somewhat derivative of Robin Williams circa 1978, I prefer to think of him as Stephen Mead, a local actor whose ability to play many characters at once makes my own head spin. That being said, however, the show belongs to Director Helen Pafumi who elevates this production from a Chinese menu of comic techniques to a vivid and clever evocation of 21st century desire to escape. Brightman is fast without being frenetic and his physical and vocal changes as he morphs from character to character in this story are disciplined and skillful. Pafumi keeps control of the action as the story gets more absurd and the dénouement slips over us with Brightman in a schvitz and the audience in stitches. The success of this show is grounded in a superb production team and Acito’s non judgmental illustration of the devolution of modern family life and relationships.

Social engineers and planners, encouraged by the transportation and fuel industries, with assistance from the construction trades, decided that the various strata of the middle classes should be moved from cities and bundled in the outlying inner rural areas soon to be called the suburbs. Seventy years of such social restructuring have resulted in a f*cked-upness of several generations so profound that it is now the under classes who are being cleansed from the cities so their financial betters can have its excitement back. Children who have never jaywalked are blinding their parents with fear as they settle into urban dens of multi-family dwelling units and socialize, maybe even cavort with, the poor. This is known as gentrification and Edward’s father’s new neighbors are going to be the exact same folks his grandparents ran away from a generation and a half earlier. The impediment to Edward’s dream of life in The Big Apple is his father, a successful businessman who could pay for Juilliard, but rebuffs his son’s dreams because his own dreams were never pursued; let alone realized. Thus, one f*cked up generation revisits its f*cked-upness on the next because the father cannot neither bear, nor face up to, his own son’s success.

In fact, the father is so incensed by his son’s determination to find happiness in himself that dad orders Edward to leave his home and be taken in by every suburb’s insane Jewish family. This device succeeds because Brightman is every insane Jewish character from the trashy parents to the felonious son to the batty therapist grandmother. Where Brightman succeeds is in conveying Edward’s urgency. It is organic and Acito has drawn these characters well and portrayed the drive that true actors have in them to present an artistic vision whether there is an audience or not. Pafumi keeps everything tight and Brightman under control as he plays every character and advances the narrative. It is a testament to everyone’s skill here that what could have been a hyper active comic audition became instead a delightful repast of comic styles in combination with a contemporary story that is true to any family with artistic and ambitious offspring.

The success of the play itself is in its delicious subversiveness. Underneath the contemporary portraits are Aristotelian buffoons bobbling around, acting atrociously; but never behaving so irredeemably as to be hopeless. But there lies the only negative rub. The narrative tootles along humorously on its way to a successful conclusion when Edward’s hateful father suddenly gets heartwarmingly paternal and affectionate in an almost ruinous architectural misstep that threatens to destroy the farcical arc that seals the play’s bona fides.

We are all players in our own dramas which we live every day. There is no rule that says talent is measured in $50,000.00 increments and successful lives are not predicated on the surfaces of hoity and toity sheepskins. Artists emerge fully formed; their only impediment is inertia.

Don’t be inert. Turn off the cable television and go see this play. Supply your own laugh track.

Director’s Note

There are moments in life when we realize anew, that we are greater than the sum of our parts and that our experiences are shaped by those we walk through life with. The moment when we go away to college is one of those definitive times. We break out of the familiar home of our youth and are faced with defining ourselves by new challenges. It’s a treacherous, adventurous time when we are pulled in polar opposite by what we have known and what is yet to come. As we forge ahead, we carry with us the myriad of imprints made by those who have touched our life. How I Paid for College captures all of this.

When Marc pitched the script to me, I was beyond excited. I had been searching for a piece that explored this time in our life. It is something that so many in our community can identify with. How I Paid for College gives us permission to laugh in a big way at how hard it is to grow up, the insanity of college costs, huge dreams and crazy schemes. It has been a joy to work on this play that is so full of hijinks, fun, laughter, honesty, heart, (sic) and theatricality. Buckle up and enjoy the ride.

Photo Gallery

Photos by Melissa Blackall Photography

Cast

• Eddie: Alex Brightman
• Al Zanni: Alex Brightman
• Dagmar Zanni: Alex Brightman
• Eddie’s Mother: Alex Brightman
• Paula: Alex Brightman
• Natey Nudelman: Alex Brightman
• Natey’s Mother: Alex Brightman
• Stan Nudelman: Alex Brightman
• Nana Nudelman: Alex Brightman
• Nana Nudelman’s Cryent: Alex Brightman
• The Buddha Lady: Alex Brightman
• Juilliard Auditors: Alex Brightman
• The Buddha: not Alex Brightman
• Everyone Else: Alex Brightman

Production Staff

• Director: Helen Pafumi
• Scenic Design: Kristen Morgan
• Lighting Design: Jimmy Lawlor
• Sound Design: Matthew Nielson
• Costume Design: Maria Vetsch
• Stage Management: Rebecca Griffith

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

There’s comedy. There’s tragedy. There’s romance. There’s even a piquant mix of poetry, politics, psychology, anthropology and philosophy. All in about an hour and a half.

Charles L. Mee’s fascinating play Big Love was a sensation at the 2000 Actors Theater of Louisville new plays festival. It went on to an enthusiastic reception off-Broadway. Then — despite its multiple technical and artistic complications — it proceeded to challenge regional theater actors and audiences. And now other theaters are stepping up to the show’s alluring and daunting intricacies. One such company is the Hub Theatre in Fairfax, where Big Love is currently playing.

Director Kirsten Kelly’s show is always intriguing and sometimes thrilling.

Playwright Mee is fascinated by the eternal verities and dramatic vitality inherent in the oldest of western culture’s plays. His works include a half dozen pieces inspired by 5th Century BC Greek drama. Big Love is a riff on Aeschylus’ mega hit of the year 466 The Suppliant Maidens.

The ancient myth that provides the play’s basis involves 50 girls who were promised by their father, a king, as brides to a neighboring king’s 50 sons. (It’s just a story, people. Yes, fathering 50 daughters or 50 sons is preposterous. The myth qualifies for tall tale status.) As a political maneuver, aimed at forging a really, really strong alliance, the multiple marriages seemed like a great idea. The daughters in the case, however, are not enthusiastic — nay, they are hostile when it comes to a life sentence as diplomatic pawns. So they sail across the Adriatic to Italy. They seek asylum in the vast home of the first rich guy they come upon. He is not eager to house a hoard of immigrants, nor is he attracted by an imposed role as savior of the weak and enemy of the powerful.

The complex situation and the vivid characters make for effective comedy. The explosive emotions created by coercion lead to tragedy. A boy-meets-girl development leads to, you guessed it, romance. And Mee’s insightful mind and beautiful writing take care to the poetry, politics, psychology, anthropology and philosophy.

Mee neatly creates three contrasting women’s roles to represent the hoard of sisters. Three well-designed men’s roles stand in for the 50 brothers. Director Kirsten Kelly has recruited some very skillful performers to exemplify various versions of girls vs. boys. Sarah Douglas, Jessica Aimone and Kristen Garaffo play the sisters — ambivalent, rageaholic and bimbo, respectively. David Zimmerman, Josh Sticklin and Michael Kevin Darnall are the brothers — ambivalent critical thinker, dissolute lout and aggressive macho man, respectively.

Darnall does an excellent job with a speech that crystalizes a psychological contradiction underlying Big Love. With a sometimes touching, sometimes scary mix of pathos and fury he describes the mixed message embedded in the masculine mystic. Violence and savagery are praised when the homeland is attacked or when it choses to attack foreign lands. Kindness and civility are prized and social graces are rewarded in times of peace.

All three men enact a fantastic ritual representing the ordeal of being male. They become both the drill sergeants and the recruits, going through the paces of everything from little league anxiety to the antics of adult virility. The emotional spectrum ranges from bonding to battling. The sweaty scene (so many pushups, so little time!) is a perfect example of the drama dictum “Don’t just tell it; show it.”

S. Lewis Feemster plays an androgynous Italian with a to-die-for collection of Barbie and Ken dolls. Feemster also does a nice job singing “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered,” accompanying himself on a tinkly toy piano. Claire Carroll and David Bryan Jackson represent the temporizing denials, rationalizations and compromises of mature adult adjustment to life in the real world. It sounds grim, but Carroll and Jackson bring it all off with droll cynicism. Things don’t work so well for Carroll in another role that she plays — the stereotypical Italian mother. Though the part includes some of Mee’s best writing, Carroll smothers it all with an overwrought Italian accent.

Dance moves designed by Susan Shields add luster to the show as does fight choreography by Casey Kaleba. The multiple musical highlights are provided by Carla Gerdes and Michael Gerdes. Their selections are funny and eloquent, ranging from Philly girl group doo wop (“You Don’t Own Me,” of course) to the greatest hits of J.S. Bach and Janice Joplin.

Photo Gallery

Kristen Garaffo	Jessica Aimone, Michael Kevin Darnall, Sarah Douglas, Josh Sticklin (in back), Kristen Garaffo
Kristen Garaffo, S. Lewis Feemster	David Zimmerman, Josh Sticklin, Michael Kevin Darnall
Kristen Garaffo, Sarah Douglas, Jessica Aimone	David Zimmerman, Sarah Douglas

Photos by Melissa Blackall Photography

Cast

• Lydia: Sarah Douglas
• Olympia: Kristen Garaffo
• Thyona: Jessica Aimone
• Bella/Eleanor: Claire Carroll
• Piero/Leo: David Bryan Jackson
• Giuliano: S. Lewis Feemster
• Constantine: Michael Kevin Darnall
• Oed: Josh Sticklin
• Nikos: David Zimmerman
• Fiddle Player: Genna Davidson
• Ensemble: Ocean Bianchi, Chelsea Townsend

Crew

• Director: Kirsten Kelly
• Scenic Design: Natsu Onoda Power
• Costume Design: Deborah Sivigny
• Lighting Design: Joel Moritz
• Sound Design/Composer: Matthew Nielson
• Props Design: Suzanne Maloney
• Choreography: Susan Shields
• Fight Choreography: Kasey Kaleba
• Assistant Director: Matt Bassett
• Technical Director: Jameson Shroyer
• Stage Manager: Daniel Mori
• Assistant Stage Manager: Jason Krage
• Music Directors: Carla Gerdes & Michael Gerdes

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

The Hub Theatre has chosen a contemporary and thought provoking play to kick off the company’s debut season. The set (of course, a Midwest pavilion) is beautifully crafted woodwork. Its spare design (Robbie Hayes) is perfect to showcase this three person show, and the gorgeous lighting (Dan Covey) adds another complete character with its layering and dimension. The sound design (Matt Nielson) gives the impression that the stage is actually water-locked.

The story is simple…a high school reunion that brings together the former “cutest senior couple” after 20 years…Peter, a successful psychologist who has never gotten over the girl he left behind…and Kari…the bitter woman who has never forgiven him. Add to this a narrator who portrays scores of the other classmates in attendance with nothing but a change in posture, voice, and facial expression, and the cast is in place.

Much of the dialogue is poetic and poignant, but doesn’t always fit the characters, which becomes a detriment to the show. The interjection of philosophical lines into more commonplace dialogue is jarring, and brings the audience out of the moment. There are times, particularly in Act II, where the writing is at its best, and both Peter & Kari find the heart of their characters. The theoretical exploration kept the play feeling like a play the entire night, which some might argue was the unique point…and others might not enjoy.

The play moves well with artful direction by Jeremy Skidmore. Tim Getman as Peter gives an especially touching performance…he has a natural delivery and innate charm. Niki Jacobsen has some of the most difficult lines as Kari, and it’s hard to find her likability with the hard shell the playwright has given her. Jacobsen does a lovely job with a later monologue describing her life & marriage since Peter was last in her life. Jason Lott as the Narrator is given a significantly difficult role, and while an extremely talented performer, not all of the impersonations are successful. His standouts include two former classmates in particular: Kent the chief of police, and a cynical minister. His opening monologue as the narrator, where he creates a sensory experience for the audience with words and vocalization a la Tom Wingfield in Glass Menagerie, is captivating.

Overall, Hub Theatre has made a polished splash onto the local professional theatre scene. There’s a lot of good to be found in this show, even if it’s not everyone’s cup of tea.