Showing posts with label Charity Jones. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Charity Jones. Show all posts
Sunday, April 14, 2024
The History Plays: "Richard II," "Henry IV," and "Henry V" in rep at the Guthrie Theater
Once in a lifetime, if you're lucky, you'll have a chance to experience an epic theater event at your home town theater, which just happens to be one of the best respected and most highly acclaimed regional theaters in the land. That was April 13, 2024, a day I will never forget, a day in which I consumed more theater than I ever have in a single day. Some 8 1/2 hours of theater, more than seeing Tony Kushner's epic two-part Angels in America on Broadway, more than the longest day at the Minnesota Fringe Festival. Sometimes known as The Henriad, Shakespeare's Richard II, Henry IV (two plays here condensed into one), and Henry V tell the stories of three English kings in the late 14th and early 15th Centuries. But this was not some boring slog through ancient history and archaic language. It was a living, breathing, dynamic, compelling, thrilling, jaw-dropping, heart-stopping, laugh-inducing, thoroughly engaging binge-watch of some of the best plays in the English cannon, brought to life by some of our best theater artists from the Twin Cities and around the country. Each play has a somewhat different tone or look or feel, but all are cut from the same cloth so that when knit together, they form a whole much grander than the sum of its parts. If you have the financial means and physical stamina to do so, I highly recommend attending the one remaining marathon day on May 18. It's a rare shared community experience, with artists and patrons joining their energies together for some 14 hours in the same space. Or you can take in the trilogy in a more reasonable manner - see all three plays in a weekend, or more spread out over time. But if you're a #TCTheater fan (and if you're not, why are you reading this blog?), see it you must. This is something we'll be talking about for generations. Click here for details and tickets.
Wednesday, September 21, 2022
"The Humans" at Park Square Theatre
To open their exciting new season, Park Square Theatre is presenting the regional premiere of the 2016 Tony-winning best play The Humans by Stephen Karem (whose Sons of the Prophet they produced a few years ago). This play about a typical family Thanksgiving dinner is devastating in its specificity, in its relatability, in its raw truth, and in the way it lays bare what it is to be human and part of a family. And therein lies its beauty. I saw the Broadway tour, as well as the recent movie adaptation, so I knew we were in for a treat. The stunning design and excellent cast lived up to my expectations; the show cuts deep and is hard to shake upon leaving the theater. If you're a human, you will be able to relate to The Humans - the good, the bad, and the ugly of it. See it in the historic Hamm building in downtown St. Paul through October 9 (#bringtissues).
Tuesday, February 8, 2022
"Not For Sale" at the History Theatre
Part two of History Theatre's pair of new original plays based on Minnesota's history of segregation and redlining is now on stage. Originally scheduled to run in rep in March 2020, the two plays were split up this season, with Not in Our Neighborhood premiering last fall, and Not For Sale last weekend. It would have been nice to see them in rep (although perfectly understandable why that plan was shelved in the wake of new covid safety protocols) because they really are two chapters in the same story. The long, complex, ugly story of racism in Minnesota that continues to play out on a daily basis. There's a direct line from Black families being denied the opportunity to purchase property in certain neighborhoods, or at all, to the racial injustice we see today. Plays like these help us to remember our history, so that we can build a better future.
Monday, December 21, 2020
"Dickens' Holiday Classic" streaming from Guthrie Theater
The Guthrie Theater has been presenting Charles Dickens' classic story A Christmas Carol for over 40 years. The show has gone through many iterations - different adaptations, different directors, different casts, different uses of music and dancing. 2020 sees yet another new version of the classic - a virtual one you can watch in your own home (for just $10 per household). Starting from an adaptation written by Dickens himself for the one-man-show he performed, Guthrie Artistic Director Joseph Haj teamed up with #TCTheater artist E.G. Baily, who also has a film company, to adapt and direct this piece, creating something entirely new. Not exactly theater, and not exactly film, the show combines bits of both media for an experience that is smaller, quieter, and more intimate than the Christmas Carol we're used to seeing on the Guthrie's thrust stage, but just as lovely, engaging, and moving as ever.
Sunday, September 29, 2019
"Gloria: A Life" at the HERstory Theatre
The History Theatre is continuing their successful spring of bringing us women's stories written by women into their new season. Their first HERstory play of 2019-2020 is Gloria: A Life, a new play (seen Off-Broadway just last fall) in its regional premiere. Friends, this show is more than just theater. It's the celebration of a movement that changed the world, and has a long way yet to go! After the 80-minute first act in which we learn about the history of the Women's Rights movement through the life of Gloria Steinem, the "second act" is a talking circle. In one of the best post-show discussions I've ever experienced, women (and a man or two) in the audience shared their inspiring stories too. I like that they call it the second act of the play, because it really is an important part of Gloria's story, in which the conversation that was started on stage is continued into the audience and into our lives. Gloria: A Life is another educational, entertaining, and inspirational experience from the HERstory Theatre.
Tuesday, November 28, 2017
"A Christmas Carol" at the Guthrie Theater
One of my favorite #TCTheater holiday* traditions is the Guthrie Theater's annual production of Charles Dickens' classic A Christmas Carol. Now in my 15th year as a Guthrie season subscriber, I've only missed it a couple of times in that span. As I wrote last year, "I never tire of seeing it, because Charles Dickens' story of redemption, community, family, and human kindness never gets old. It's a beautiful and necessary thing to be reminded that what brings us together is greater than what drives us apart.' That it's never too late to change, to grow, to become a kinder and more generous person." This timeless story of generosity, gratitude, compassion, and kindness is something we need to cling to, perhaps now more than ever.
Friday, February 24, 2017
"King Lear" at the Guthrie Theater
King Lear is considered one of Shakespeare's best tragedies, and the title role one of the most challenging roles to play in all of theater. The Guthrie Theater returns to King Lear for the first time in 22 years, and has hired not one but two beloved veterans of the Guthrie and other Twin Cities stages to tackle the role. Nathaniel Fuller and Stephen Yoakam take turns playing the lead and you can see the schedule here, although you really can't go wrong with either one - both are incredibly talented actors. Stephen Yoakam played Lear the night I saw the show, and gave a powerful performance, as did many in the large and talented cast. Combined with the gorgeous overall design of the show, this King Lear is a stunner.
Tuesday, June 28, 2016
"Calendar Girls" at Park Square Theatre
"This is my favorite kind of play because it celebrates how deliciously human we are while also revealing how incredibly generous we can be when one of our own is in need of hope." This quote from director Mary M. Finnerty perfectly sums up the spirit of Park Square Theatre's Calendar Girls, the play based on the movie based on the real life story of a group of average, every-day, extraordinary women who come together to support one of their own by taking their clothes off. How does getting naked, or rather nude, help their friend? The calendar they pose for and sell raises hundreds of thousands of dollars, er... pounds, for Leukemia and Lymphoma research, the disease that took her husband. The play based on this inspiring story is truly a feel-good summer comedy with tons of heart and sisterhood. You'll laugh, you'll squirm in your seat, you'll shed a few (or many) tears, and you'll fall in love with these women (both the characters and the incredibly talented actors who play them) as they embrace their womanhood and their strength, and each other.
Thursday, March 3, 2016
"The Critic / The Real Inspector Hound" at the Guthrie Theater
Two one-act comedies, written by two of my favorite playwrights, covering the topic of theater criticism? I'm in! While I don't consider myself a "critic" I do spend a considerable amount of time seeing theater and writing about it. So these two plays that skewer theater critics (and poke a bit of fun at theater in general) are right up my alley! The pairing of Richard Brinsley Sheridan's The Critic (adapted by Minnesota's favorite playwright Jeffrey Hatcher) and Tom Stoppard's The Real Inspector Hound, written 200 years apart, is genius. This fruitful collaboration between the Guthrie and Shakespeare Theatre Company in Washington D.C. features a fantastic cast (that includes actors from both communities) playing in these two very different worlds that both deal with the relationship between theater and theater writing. The result is a hilarious farce, or rather two hilarious farces (or maybe four hilarious farces as both plays feature a play-within-a-play) that is enjoyable for anyone who loves theater. And if you don't love theater, you're in the wrong place.
Thursday, April 9, 2015
"Mr. Burns, A Post-Electric Play" at the Guthrie Theater
I must confess: I've never seen a single episode of The Simpsons. Of course since I don't live under a rock, I'm vaguely aware of Marge, Homer, Bart and the gang. But this is one pop culture phenomenon that has passed me by. Even so, I can appreciate playwright Anne Washburn's play Mr. Burns, A Post-Electric Play, which uses The Simpsons to explore how pop culture survives after an apocalyptic event. While knowledge of The Simpsons might make the play more enjoyable (as evidenced by the people guffawing at every line in the row in front of me), it's still a fascinating look at survival and finding joy even in devastation.
The play feels like it's made up of three very different short plays. The first act takes place shortly after the nuclear disasters happened, causing "the grid" to go down. We meet a group of survivors, who are entertaining themselves by reminiscing about their favorite episode of The Simpsons, "Cape Feare," even while brandishing guns to protect themselves from intruders. Think The Walking Dead, except that between killing zombies, Rick and company talk about TV (maybe they do, we just don't see those scenes). To continue with the TV references, the tone of the show is somewhere between The Walking Dead and The Last Man on Earth, because it's a bit silly, but with a real undercurrent of darkness as survivors ask newcomers if they have any news about their missing loved ones.
In the second act, we jump forward seven years to a time when things are still pretty messed up, but there are traveling theater troupes that perform episodes from TV shows. And apparently theater too, but who wants to watch Shakespeare when you can watch The Simpsons? Our group has formed one such troupe, and is in competition with other troupes. The group has differing opinions about whether their job is strictly to provide a much needed escape in a bleak world, or to enlighten and engage on a deeper level. Before the matter is settled, we jump forward another 75 years, after an intermission during which the cast dons extreme and specific make-up to transform themselves into characters from The Simpsons. The last act is the finished product of what was begun 75 years ago - a musical that blends the story of the apocalypse with "Cape Feare."
Mr. Burns is a bit of a hodgepodge, with serious, poignant, and very real scenes interspersed with the absurd - a music video montage of pop songs, a commercial for... something... that goes on and on, and the entire third act musical sequence. It's truly bizarro, but mostly in a good way. The original songs are great (music by Michael Friedman and lyrics by the playwright), and cleverly tie in several pop culture themes. And kudos to costume designer Alex Jaeger for covering the whole scope from apocalypse gear, to makeshift theater production, to amazingly bright and detailed Simpsons costumes for the musical.
Because this is a co-production with San Francisco's American Conservatory Theater, I was expecting a cast of unfamiliars. So I was pleasantly surprised to see local favorites Charity Jones (a traumatized survivor turned director), Andrea Wollenberg (who beautifully carries most of the singing weight in the third act), and Jim Lichtsheidl (I don't now about you, but if I'm ever in an apocalyptic situation, I'd like to be trapped with Jim Lichtsheidl singing Gilbert and Sullivan). Combined with the non-locals, they form a tight cast that willingly and enthusiastically jumps in with both feet, whatever the script calls for. In particular, Ryan Williams French gives a deliciously evil performance as the musical's villain.
Even though I'm not a fan of The Simpsons, and some of the references might have gone over my head, and some of the re-creations went on a bit long for my taste, Mr. Burns, A Post-Electric Play is no doubt incredibly creative and inventive. I'm sure if my TV were taken away from me, I'd search out anyone I could to discuss the finer points of my favorite episodes of The Office ("Booze Cruise" anyone?) or Game of Thrones.
The apocalypse is a popular theme in pop culture, so it's quite fitting and fascinating to see an exploration of pop culture in an apocalypse. It's about how we tell our stories, whether that's through theater, or television, or around a campfire, or whatever medium is left when all the lights go out. Mr. Burns continues through May 9 on the Guthrie's Proscenium Stage.
The play feels like it's made up of three very different short plays. The first act takes place shortly after the nuclear disasters happened, causing "the grid" to go down. We meet a group of survivors, who are entertaining themselves by reminiscing about their favorite episode of The Simpsons, "Cape Feare," even while brandishing guns to protect themselves from intruders. Think The Walking Dead, except that between killing zombies, Rick and company talk about TV (maybe they do, we just don't see those scenes). To continue with the TV references, the tone of the show is somewhere between The Walking Dead and The Last Man on Earth, because it's a bit silly, but with a real undercurrent of darkness as survivors ask newcomers if they have any news about their missing loved ones.
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| the theater troupe performs (photo by Kevin Berne) |
Mr. Burns is a bit of a hodgepodge, with serious, poignant, and very real scenes interspersed with the absurd - a music video montage of pop songs, a commercial for... something... that goes on and on, and the entire third act musical sequence. It's truly bizarro, but mostly in a good way. The original songs are great (music by Michael Friedman and lyrics by the playwright), and cleverly tie in several pop culture themes. And kudos to costume designer Alex Jaeger for covering the whole scope from apocalypse gear, to makeshift theater production, to amazingly bright and detailed Simpsons costumes for the musical.
Because this is a co-production with San Francisco's American Conservatory Theater, I was expecting a cast of unfamiliars. So I was pleasantly surprised to see local favorites Charity Jones (a traumatized survivor turned director), Andrea Wollenberg (who beautifully carries most of the singing weight in the third act), and Jim Lichtsheidl (I don't now about you, but if I'm ever in an apocalyptic situation, I'd like to be trapped with Jim Lichtsheidl singing Gilbert and Sullivan). Combined with the non-locals, they form a tight cast that willingly and enthusiastically jumps in with both feet, whatever the script calls for. In particular, Ryan Williams French gives a deliciously evil performance as the musical's villain.
Even though I'm not a fan of The Simpsons, and some of the references might have gone over my head, and some of the re-creations went on a bit long for my taste, Mr. Burns, A Post-Electric Play is no doubt incredibly creative and inventive. I'm sure if my TV were taken away from me, I'd search out anyone I could to discuss the finer points of my favorite episodes of The Office ("Booze Cruise" anyone?) or Game of Thrones.
The apocalypse is a popular theme in pop culture, so it's quite fitting and fascinating to see an exploration of pop culture in an apocalypse. It's about how we tell our stories, whether that's through theater, or television, or around a campfire, or whatever medium is left when all the lights go out. Mr. Burns continues through May 9 on the Guthrie's Proscenium Stage.
Saturday, November 29, 2014
"The Cocktail Hour" at the Guthrie Theater
If the Guthrie's annual production of A Christmas Carol is too schmaltzy and feel-good for you (a show I called the feel-goodiest of feel-good shows), then head across the hall to the McGuire Proscenium Theater. Playwright A.R. Gurney's "most personal" play The Cocktail Hour is perhaps a bit more like what most of our family gatherings are like. This look at the WASP culture of the Northeast and what happens when a son tries to break out of it is sharp, funny, poignant, and well-acted by the four-person cast.
Playwright John returns to his parents' upstate New York home to share with them his newest play. While his other plays may have included a reference or two to his family, this one is very closely based on his family life, and he wants his father's approval. Which of course, he doesn't get. Bradley and Ann live a perfectly distinguished and structured life. A lifestyle that, by the mid '70s, is fading thanks to "the war" and "your friend Roosevelt." Ann jokes that people think WASPs are all Republicans, superficial, and alcoholics - only the last one is true. Every evening before dinner the family gathers for cocktail hour, a chance to unwind, converse, and smooth things out ("we're never too busy for the cocktail hour"). John can't understand why his parents still cling to these old customs and ideals in the changing world. He uses his plays to work through his feelings about his parents and the fact that he's never felt love from his father, who dotes on youngest son Jigger (if you have a son named Jigger, you might be a WASP). His father doesn't want the family embarrassed by the play, which is also titled The Cocktail Hour, and his mother thinks he should put it in a book instead, because it's less public. Only daughter Nina arrives for cocktails and dinner, and is disappointed that she doesn't play a bigger role in play, expressing discontent with her seemingly perfect life of husband, home, and family.
This all leads to some heated and intense discussions over cocktails as dinner is delayed, some of which is quite hilarious to watch from the comfort of the theater seats. But they also dig into some very real and relatable issues, especially for families of this era. In addition, it's a bit of love letter (to use the title of one of Gurney's other plays, a running joke in the show) to the theater. Ann and Bradley lament the great plots of plays of old, while John feels cursed that the only thing he feels compelled to write is plays, a dying and archaic artform (insert audience chuckle). Theater is changing, as is the life Bradley has lived for over 70 years, and he makes sure everyone knows how unhappy he is with it (although he does have a good point that "no one likes a long play, they want to get it over with and go home to bed").
Director Maria Aitken (making her Guthrie debut) strikes just the right tone with her excellent four-person cast (an equal mix of Guthrie vets and newbies) - biting and funny with real moments of poignancy as the family digs deep into their issues. Peter Thomson and Kandis Chappell are just perfection in their roles as Bradley and Ann, both so comfortable with their characters and each other, creating real people that are somehow endearing despite their faults. As John, Rod Brogan plays the right mix of exasperation at his parents and hidden desire for their approval, and Charity Jones is the typical Daddy's girl who's less warm with her mother.
James Youmans has designed a beautiful set (with a few surprises), a meticulously arranged upper class living room that's clinging to the past and shows no sign of the '70s. Robert Morgan has attired Bradley and Ann in a perfectly WASPish wardrobe, featuring Bradley's neat bow-tie and Ann's elegantly draped cardigan, while their children are allowed more relaxed and modern apparel.
The Cocktail Hour is a perfect complement or antidote to A Christmas Carol, and shows the other side of family love - the real life side. Grab a cocktail and settle in for a funny and not too long play, with not much of a plot but plenty of character (playing now through January 4).
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go make myself a cocktail.
Playwright John returns to his parents' upstate New York home to share with them his newest play. While his other plays may have included a reference or two to his family, this one is very closely based on his family life, and he wants his father's approval. Which of course, he doesn't get. Bradley and Ann live a perfectly distinguished and structured life. A lifestyle that, by the mid '70s, is fading thanks to "the war" and "your friend Roosevelt." Ann jokes that people think WASPs are all Republicans, superficial, and alcoholics - only the last one is true. Every evening before dinner the family gathers for cocktail hour, a chance to unwind, converse, and smooth things out ("we're never too busy for the cocktail hour"). John can't understand why his parents still cling to these old customs and ideals in the changing world. He uses his plays to work through his feelings about his parents and the fact that he's never felt love from his father, who dotes on youngest son Jigger (if you have a son named Jigger, you might be a WASP). His father doesn't want the family embarrassed by the play, which is also titled The Cocktail Hour, and his mother thinks he should put it in a book instead, because it's less public. Only daughter Nina arrives for cocktails and dinner, and is disappointed that she doesn't play a bigger role in play, expressing discontent with her seemingly perfect life of husband, home, and family.
This all leads to some heated and intense discussions over cocktails as dinner is delayed, some of which is quite hilarious to watch from the comfort of the theater seats. But they also dig into some very real and relatable issues, especially for families of this era. In addition, it's a bit of love letter (to use the title of one of Gurney's other plays, a running joke in the show) to the theater. Ann and Bradley lament the great plots of plays of old, while John feels cursed that the only thing he feels compelled to write is plays, a dying and archaic artform (insert audience chuckle). Theater is changing, as is the life Bradley has lived for over 70 years, and he makes sure everyone knows how unhappy he is with it (although he does have a good point that "no one likes a long play, they want to get it over with and go home to bed").
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| Bradley and Ann with son John (Peter Thomson, Kandis Chappell, Rod Brogan, photo by Heidi Bohnenkamp) |
James Youmans has designed a beautiful set (with a few surprises), a meticulously arranged upper class living room that's clinging to the past and shows no sign of the '70s. Robert Morgan has attired Bradley and Ann in a perfectly WASPish wardrobe, featuring Bradley's neat bow-tie and Ann's elegantly draped cardigan, while their children are allowed more relaxed and modern apparel.
The Cocktail Hour is a perfect complement or antidote to A Christmas Carol, and shows the other side of family love - the real life side. Grab a cocktail and settle in for a funny and not too long play, with not much of a plot but plenty of character (playing now through January 4).
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go make myself a cocktail.
Sunday, September 14, 2014
"Sexy Laundry" at Park Square Theatre
St. Paul's Park Square Theatre has an exciting and ambitious 40th anniversary season planned that includes the addition of a second stage, partnership with three small but well-respected theater companies, and a concerted effort to produce new works and hire diverse casts. It's big and exciting, but it all begins on a smaller scale. The first show of the season is the two-person relationship dramedy Sexy Laundry. This smart, funny, relevant play by Canadian playwright Michele Riml is a great way to ease into the season that could make Park Square one of the leading forces in this theater community.
Alice and Henry have been married for 25 years, have three kids, and have fallen into a rut. In attempt to get out of it, they have checked themselves into a swanky new hotel with a copy of Sex for Dummies. They play, argue, make progress, falter, vow to break up, and come back together again. In the busyness of life, family, career, and home, Alice and Henry need this time to reconnect not only with each other, but with themselves.
The under 90-minute run time flies by as we come to know, love, be frustrated by, and perhaps see ourselves in these two people. This two-person cast, directed by Mary M. Finnerty, is comprised of the perfect pair in John Middleton and Charity Jones. John excels at playing the beleaguered everyman, a hardworking husband who just wants to watch the news when he comes home. Charity brings depth and vulnerability the role of the wife who wants something more than kids and laundry. The two have an easy comfortable chemistry with each other; it's easy to believe that they're an old married couple. Michael Hoover's crisp clean lines provide the hotel backdrop and playground on which the story plays out.
Sexy Laundry continues through the end of the month. Check it out for a smart and funny look at modern relationships. There's a sequel to Sexy Laundry called Henry and Alice: Into the Wild. Here's hoping that Park Square brings John and Charity back next season so we can find out what happens after that pivotal weekend in the hotel.
Alice and Henry have been married for 25 years, have three kids, and have fallen into a rut. In attempt to get out of it, they have checked themselves into a swanky new hotel with a copy of Sex for Dummies. They play, argue, make progress, falter, vow to break up, and come back together again. In the busyness of life, family, career, and home, Alice and Henry need this time to reconnect not only with each other, but with themselves.
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| Henry and Alice find new ways of communicating (John Middleton and Charity Jones) |
Sexy Laundry continues through the end of the month. Check it out for a smart and funny look at modern relationships. There's a sequel to Sexy Laundry called Henry and Alice: Into the Wild. Here's hoping that Park Square brings John and Charity back next season so we can find out what happens after that pivotal weekend in the hotel.
Monday, July 8, 2013
"Sherlock Holmes and the Adventure of the Suicide Club" at Park Square Theatre
I must admit, I'm not that familiar with the stories of Sherlock Holmes (although I have been to the site of his literary death - Reichenbach Falls outside of Meiringen, Switzerland). I've never read any of the four books or 56 short stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle that form the basis of the popular detective story, or seen any of the countless movies (unless you count the recent Robert Downey Jr. version). My only real familiarity with the story is the fantastic new show Elementary, CBS's modern-day NYC-set take on the story. So I don't have a lot of attachment to or knowledge of the mythology of Sherlock Holmes. Fortunately that is not required to enjoy Park Square Theatre's current version, in which prolific and talented local playwright Jeffrey Hatcher takes the familiar characters from Doyle's stories and applies them to Robert Louis Stevenson's trilogy of short stories The Suicide Club. The result is a new creation that is amusing, clever, and deliciously suspenseful.
As in most of the original stories, this tale is narrated by Holme's trusty sidekick Watson (ably portrayed by Bob Davis). As the story begins, Holmes is despondent (by his own admission) and exasperated, a little worn down by the trials of life and his work. But he's still at the top of his game - curious, observant, and clever. Steve Hendrickson easily slips into the skin of the titular character (the third time he's played the role at Park Square), creating a character just as memorable as he the one he played in another mystery play, Deathtrap at the Jungle earlier this year. Holmes finds himself investigating a group called The Suicide Club, in which people who want to take their own lives but are unable to do so agree to kill each other in a random fashion. They draw billiard balls from a hat - the one who draws the black ball is the lucky one to die, and the one who draws the red ball does the deed. (One wonders how such a club that meets every night keeps their membership up.) Club member Prince Nikita (a charismatic as ever Bryan Porter) alerts Holmes to some suspicious happenings in the club, which seem to lead back to the mysterious Club Secretary (Charity Jones, sleek as a cat). But who is she really working for? Watching Holmes decipher clue after clue to lead him to the answer is half the fun of the play.
There's not a weak link in this multi-accented cast. In addition to those mentioned above, highlights include Nathan Christopher as the cream puff-eating club member who invites Holmes into the club, Bruce Bohne as the wheelchair-bound and uber supportive club member, and Karen Wiese-Thompson as Holmes' landlady and several other characters. All the men are dressed in top hats and tails (costumes by Andrea M. Gross); why not dress up for death?
Michael Hoover (set design) and Todd F. Edwards (projection design) have together created a very clever and effective backdrop for this familiar story. At first glance the Park Square stage looks empty - with few set pieces and trapezoidal screens of varying sizes in the background. But as the scenes change, still images fill the screens to create a specific world - Holmes' book-cluttered apartment, the billiard hall, the dark and lonely London streets. It's an elegant way to affect the change of scenes without moving a lot of bulky set pieces around, which makes for smooth scene transitions (accompanied by appropriately creepy music).
I'm catching this one near the end of its run - only five performances remain. If you're able, check it out this week for a fun and thrilling take on the classic detective genre.
As in most of the original stories, this tale is narrated by Holme's trusty sidekick Watson (ably portrayed by Bob Davis). As the story begins, Holmes is despondent (by his own admission) and exasperated, a little worn down by the trials of life and his work. But he's still at the top of his game - curious, observant, and clever. Steve Hendrickson easily slips into the skin of the titular character (the third time he's played the role at Park Square), creating a character just as memorable as he the one he played in another mystery play, Deathtrap at the Jungle earlier this year. Holmes finds himself investigating a group called The Suicide Club, in which people who want to take their own lives but are unable to do so agree to kill each other in a random fashion. They draw billiard balls from a hat - the one who draws the black ball is the lucky one to die, and the one who draws the red ball does the deed. (One wonders how such a club that meets every night keeps their membership up.) Club member Prince Nikita (a charismatic as ever Bryan Porter) alerts Holmes to some suspicious happenings in the club, which seem to lead back to the mysterious Club Secretary (Charity Jones, sleek as a cat). But who is she really working for? Watching Holmes decipher clue after clue to lead him to the answer is half the fun of the play.
There's not a weak link in this multi-accented cast. In addition to those mentioned above, highlights include Nathan Christopher as the cream puff-eating club member who invites Holmes into the club, Bruce Bohne as the wheelchair-bound and uber supportive club member, and Karen Wiese-Thompson as Holmes' landlady and several other characters. All the men are dressed in top hats and tails (costumes by Andrea M. Gross); why not dress up for death?
Michael Hoover (set design) and Todd F. Edwards (projection design) have together created a very clever and effective backdrop for this familiar story. At first glance the Park Square stage looks empty - with few set pieces and trapezoidal screens of varying sizes in the background. But as the scenes change, still images fill the screens to create a specific world - Holmes' book-cluttered apartment, the billiard hall, the dark and lonely London streets. It's an elegant way to affect the change of scenes without moving a lot of bulky set pieces around, which makes for smooth scene transitions (accompanied by appropriately creepy music).
I'm catching this one near the end of its run - only five performances remain. If you're able, check it out this week for a fun and thrilling take on the classic detective genre.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
"Tales from Hollywood" at the Guthrie Theater

To complete the Christopher Hampton trilogy that is the beginning of the Guthrie's 50th anniversary season, I saw Tales from Hollywood last night. And it is perhaps my favorite of the three plays, which also include the historical drama Appomattox and the small but intense relationship drama Embers. It's funny and clever, yet sad and moving, with staging that turns the Thrust stage into a Hollywood studio.
Like Appomattox, Tales from Hollywood is based on true events in American history. The time is the 1930s and 1940s, the place is Hollywood. The narrator and main character is real-life Austro-Hungarian writer Ödön von Horváth. The play begins by telling us that Ödön died when a tree branch fell on his head in 1938, and then goes on to re-imagine his life if he had lived and followed many of his fellow European writers to Hollywood to make a living writing for the movies. German writers Bertolt Brecht and brothers Heinrich and Thomas Mann are among those writers who were forced to leave their native country at a time when the Nazis were burning books (and, of course, committing many more awful crimes). Ödön leads us through the experience of writing "scenarios" for movie studios when he could barely speak English, adjusting to life in a different culture, and dealing with being German (or Communist?) in post-WWII America.
The fabulous cast is mostly led by Guthrie newcomers, with many Guthrie favorites in the ensemble. Lee Sellers as Ödön is wonderfully sympathetic and a great guide throughout the story. He has no accent while narrating or talking to other Europeans, but speaks in accented and fragmented English while speaking to Americans. A nice touch, it always annoys me when, in American made movies, people in other countries are seen speaking English with an accent to each other when they should be speaking their native tongue. This works well to differentiate the fluency and comfort of speaking with one another from the awkwardness of trying to communicate in a second language. Another couple of Guthrie newcomers are standouts in the cast. Keir Dullea, as Ödön's mentor Heinrich Mann, conveys that lost feeling of an emigre who's not comfortable in this new life. Allison Daugherty is excellent as his tragic wife Nelly. Guthrie veteran Stephen Yoakam once again gives a dynamic performance as the slightly crazy Bertolt Brecht. And I had fun spotting some of my faves (Summer Hagen, Charity Jones, Bill McCallum, John Skelley, Anna Sundberg) in the background of the scenes, and wishing they had more to do.
The staging of this play is really unique, with lots of little movie tricks. The stage looks like a movie studio, with ensemble members directing huge spotlights. Some scenes are filmed by an old camera off the stage, with the image projected onto the backdrop of the stage, so you feel as if you're watching an old black and white movie. There's even someone doing sound effects just off-stage. Newsreel footage is also displayed on the backdrop, depicting the events being discussed. It's a pretty high-tech show, but in an inventive way that suits the Hollywood theme of the play.Now that I've seen all three of the plays in the "Christopher Hampton Celebration," I was thinking about what they all have in common. The obvious answer is history. In Tales from Hollywood, it's the history of German emigres in the early days of Hollywood. In Appomattox, it's several centuries of history of the Civil Rights movement. In Embers, it's the personal history of one man who can't let go of the past. I may have some more ideas on that as I sit with it a bit, but for now I will just say that any of these three diverse plays is worth checking out, depending on what you're in the mood for.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
"The Homecoming" at Center Stage
I went to Baltimore last weekend to visit my BFF and theater buddy, and to see my friend Trent Dawson in a play at Center Stage (the Guthrie of Baltimore). If you ever watched the dear, departed soap As the World Turns, you might know Trent as the lovable rascal Henry Coleman, a role he played for over ten years and for which he was nominated for three Emmys. Since CBS cancelled the show last year after 54 years on the air, Trent has returned to his theater roots. He did two shows off Broadway last year, and began this year in The Homecoming at Baltimore's Center Stage, where he's performed several times before. The show also featured a couple of Minnesota actors: Steven Epp and Felicity Jones, both of whom worked at Theatre de la Jeune Lune for many years. But I recognized Felicity as the ghost of Christmas past, a role that her twin sister Charity Jones played for several years at the Guthrie. If I didn't know better, I would have thought they were the same person! They share the same looks, voice, and talent.
The Homecoming was written by the English playwright Harold Pinter and won the Tony Award for best play in 1967. It takes place in the London home of Max and his two grown sons, Lenny (Trent Dawson) and Joey. The play opens with Max looking for a scissors, and Lenny ignoring him until he finally answers, "Why don't you shut up, you daft prat?" That sets the stage for this funny and disturbing tale of a weirdly dysfunctional family, to put it mildly. They hurl insults and physical violence at each other relentlessly. The only sane one seems to be sweet Uncle Sam. Into the crazy world comes the oldest son Teddy (Steven Epp), returning home after six years in America. He brings along a wife that no one knew he had. Ruth (Felicity Jones) is drawn into this mess of a family without much protest. She seems to want her husband to pull her out of it, to demand that they leave together. It's almost as if she's testing him. But he just sits passively by and watches it happen, unable to do anything to stop it. It's almost as if he expected it to happen. Why he returned home to the zoo after he escaped I'll never understand, but family ties are strong. It leaves one wondering what happened in this family that lead to this state, and why Ruth goes along with it so easily. We're only given a part of the story, a small window into the crazy world of this family.
This quote from the playbill helped me make sense of the show, or rather, accept that I can't make sense of it: "Critics of The Homecoming often cite the play's intentional avoidance of clear-cut character motivation and easily digested meaning. But for Pinter, drama that fits comfortably into understood, reassuring categories 'is not theatre but a crossword puzzle. The audience holds the paper. The play fills in the blanks. Everyone's happy. There has been no conflict between audience and play, no participation, nothing has been exposed. We walk out as we went in.'" This is definitely not a safe, comfortable play. But good theater has the tendency to make one a little uncomfortable. This was a wonderful production of a difficult play: great cast, fabulous period costumes, and a shabby chic set.
It was a fun weekend, catching up with old friends. Baltimore's a fun little town (also home to one of my favorite shows, Ace of Cakes!), and Center Stage is a lovely and accomplished theater.
The Homecoming was written by the English playwright Harold Pinter and won the Tony Award for best play in 1967. It takes place in the London home of Max and his two grown sons, Lenny (Trent Dawson) and Joey. The play opens with Max looking for a scissors, and Lenny ignoring him until he finally answers, "Why don't you shut up, you daft prat?" That sets the stage for this funny and disturbing tale of a weirdly dysfunctional family, to put it mildly. They hurl insults and physical violence at each other relentlessly. The only sane one seems to be sweet Uncle Sam. Into the crazy world comes the oldest son Teddy (Steven Epp), returning home after six years in America. He brings along a wife that no one knew he had. Ruth (Felicity Jones) is drawn into this mess of a family without much protest. She seems to want her husband to pull her out of it, to demand that they leave together. It's almost as if she's testing him. But he just sits passively by and watches it happen, unable to do anything to stop it. It's almost as if he expected it to happen. Why he returned home to the zoo after he escaped I'll never understand, but family ties are strong. It leaves one wondering what happened in this family that lead to this state, and why Ruth goes along with it so easily. We're only given a part of the story, a small window into the crazy world of this family.
This quote from the playbill helped me make sense of the show, or rather, accept that I can't make sense of it: "Critics of The Homecoming often cite the play's intentional avoidance of clear-cut character motivation and easily digested meaning. But for Pinter, drama that fits comfortably into understood, reassuring categories 'is not theatre but a crossword puzzle. The audience holds the paper. The play fills in the blanks. Everyone's happy. There has been no conflict between audience and play, no participation, nothing has been exposed. We walk out as we went in.'" This is definitely not a safe, comfortable play. But good theater has the tendency to make one a little uncomfortable. This was a wonderful production of a difficult play: great cast, fabulous period costumes, and a shabby chic set.
It was a fun weekend, catching up with old friends. Baltimore's a fun little town (also home to one of my favorite shows, Ace of Cakes!), and Center Stage is a lovely and accomplished theater.
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