"The Liar" at Park Square Theatre

Playwright David Ives' adaptation of the 17th Century French farce The Liar, now playing at Park Square Theater, is a like a Shakespearean mistaken identity comedy (two women are mistaken for each other, and there are twins) mixed with a bit of Jane Austen (it's all about who marries whom and what they can offer), told with a sort of Spamalot wackiness, but instead of music there is rhyme. Sure the plot is sort of sexist (a man woos a woman he barely knows, then quickly switches to another woman he barely knows, and the women only care about getting married), but that blow is somewhat softened by the casting of a woman in as the most offending man, the titular liar. And the silly plot is just a frame upon which to hang the clever and beautiful pentameters and the hilarious performances by this fantastic eight-person cast.

"New Jerusalem" by Minnesota Jewish Theatre Company at Hillcrest Center Theater

Minnesota Jewish Theatre Company has introduced me to a fascinating man in New Jerusalem. I'd never heard of 17th century Portuguese-Dutch-Jewish philosopher Baruch De Spinoza before, but his thoughts on God, Nature, religion, science, and society, as expressed through one historical incident in his life, feel so familiar it's as if I did already know him. This play by David Ives focuses on Spinoza's expulsion from the Jewish community, called cherem, in 1656. The interrogation plays out before the audience, who plays the part of the congregation. Spinoza tries to explain his beliefs to his friends, family, and rabbi, but is unsuccessful in convincing them he is not a heretic. It's a dense play, with much to digest and contemplate, brought to vivid life by the cast.

The mid-17th century was a time of persecution of Jews (not unlike most times in European history). Amsterdam was relevantly tolerant, but as is stated in the play, there are limits to this tolerance. Meaning no public worship and no talking about religious matters with Christians, sort of a "don't ask, don't tell" policy. Which is a problem for Spinoza, because there's nothing he likes better than discussing religion, God, nature, science, and philosophy with anyone who will listen, including his friend Simon and the (Christian) woman he loves, Clara. This lands him in hot water with the city as well as Rabbi Mortera, his beloved teacher and father figure. He is called to the synagogue to answer for his crimes, where he is interrogated by Jewish and Christian officials, and his opinionated sister. The house lights come up, as we the audience are meant to play the role of the congregation, listening to Spinoza's arguments and eventually passing judgement on him. As history tells us, he is expelled, and that's where the play leaves us. But I wasn't quite able to let him go, so I went to Wikipedia to find out the rest of the story. He continued to philosophize for another 20 years but never joined another religion, becoming "the first secular Jew of modern Europe."

Spinoza was an early advocate of the separation of church and state, the idea upon which this country was founded (although some people like to forget that if it suits their particular religion or belief). In the play, he is quoted as saying, "a state without religion is the only state in which religion can flourish." He also speaks of the unity of God, nature, and all things, "nothing is not God," which sounds like a Unitarian to me (no wonder I found myself agreeing with much of what he says). He often talks of the French philosopher and mathematician Descartes and the interrelatedness of science and religion, which seems to coincide with my personal belief that science and religion are flip sides of the same coin, and the laws of science and math can help inform and explain our understanding of the spiritual world. Or as Galileo said, much more elegantly that me, "mathematics is the language with which God has written the universe." Sorry for the digression, but this is the kind of thinking and discussion and philosophizing that this play engenders.

James Ramlet, George Muellner, Michael Torsch, and Rachel Weber
(photo by Sarah Whiting)

Under able the direction of Kurt Schweickhardt, the cast does a great job with this heavy material, injecting life and humor into it. Michael Torsch plays Spinoza as a wide-eyed idealist and a dreamer, and makes Spinoza's words and ideas make sense in an appealing way. As his friends, Briana Patnode and Alex Brightwell showcase the human side of Spinoza. Rachel Weber is a spitfire as his sister Rebekah, barging into the proceedings and letting her opinion be known. James Ramlet and Skyler Nowinski play Spinoza's interrogators, at times frustrated, angered, bewildered, and silenced by his answers to their questions. Last but not least, George Muellner gives a sympathetic performance as the rabbi torn between this young man he thinks of as a son and his lifelong beliefs.

New Jerusalem continues through November 9 at St. Paul's Hillcrest Center Theater (construction appears to be nearly complete and the parking lot on Ford is open again). I highly recommend it if you enjoy thought-provoking discussions about God, Nature, science, religion, philosophy, and everything in between. I will warn you that it's long, nearly three hours, so take a nap or have some coffee before the show, especially if you go to an 8 pm performance. As fascinating as it is, it's a challenge to stay engaged in a philosophical discussion for that long, but it's well worth the effort.

"School for Lies" at Park Square Theatre

The School for Lies is a new adaptation of the classic French comedy The Misanthrope by Moliere; the title comes from the line "society is nothing but a school for lies," which summarizes the play quite well. This version, written by Venus in Fur playwright David Ives, maintains the setting (17th century France), characters (the French aristocracy), and plot (man disapproving of said aristocracy nevertheless finds himself falling in love with one of them), but recasts the story in modern language and delightful rhyme. Like all rhythmic language (see also Shakespeare), it requires some concentration on the audience's part (no sitting back passively here). But once you get into the flow of it, it's really quite clever, and this cast (directed by Walking Shadow Theatre's Amy Rummenie) does a marvelous job of bringing life to the language and the story.

The play centers around the widow Celimene and her court, including her cousin Eliante and three suitors. Into this mix Philinte brings his friend Frank, who has no patience for the pretenses of society and proceeds to offend everyone. Except for the women, who fall in love with him (sometimes with the help of lies). Celimene is facing a trial for slander, and asks Frank to defend her against her rival Arsinoé. Much comedy, mix-ups, and romance ensues, along with many spilled canapés.

The fantastic cast is led by Kate Guenzel, truly delightful as Celimene, and John Middleton, just terrific as Frank, the one grounded and real character amidst the silly fools. As Celimene's suitors, David Beukema, Brandon Bruce, and John Catron are each appropriately and uniquely buffoonish (one continually picking his nose, one a horrible poet, and one happily stupid). Also great are Anna Hickey as the sweet and charming Eliante, Jason Rojas (whose beautiful hair puts the wigs to shame) as the sincere Philante, and Andrea Wollenberg as Celimene's ugly stepsister-like rival. Last but not least is the scene stealer Skyler Nowinski as two beleaguered servants, relatively minor characters but the ones that get the biggest laughs.

Walking into the theater, the stage reminded me of something from Behind the Candelabra - glitz and gold everywhere. The costumes are outrageous in the best possible way, not to mention the wigs! Completing the looks are an epidemic of moles and warts. (Set by Robin McIntyre, costumes by Susan E. Mickey, wigs by David Hermann.)

The School for Lies continues at Park Square Theatre in cold and lovely downtown St. Paul through February 2 (discount tickets available on Goldstar.com). It's a crazy fun romp through 17th century France, in a fresh and modern way. Check out the video below for a taste of the madness:



The School for Lies from Park Square Theatre on Vimeo.

"Venus in Fur" at the Jungle Theater

Venus in Fur was all the rage when I was in NYC last spring. I didn't end up seeing it, but it went on to be nominated for a couple of Tonys, including a win for best actress. When the Jungle Theater announced their 2013 season last fall, I was excited to see that Venus in Fur would be their first production, and even more so when I saw that it would star two of the Twin Cities best actors, Anna Sundberg and Peter Christian Hansen (who previously co-starred in Gremlin Theatre's After Miss Julie, performed in the basement kitchen of the James J. Hill House*). As usual, the Jungle does not disappoint. Venus in Fur is smart, sexy, funny, and highly entertaining.

Playwright David Ives adapted the 19th century German novel Venus im Pelz in an unconventional way (the book was written by Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, after whom the latter half of the term Sado-Masochism was coined). Rather than a direct adaptation, the play is about a playwright/director who has adapted the novel and is auditioning to find an actress to play the main character, Vanda. Hence we are treated to interactions between the characters in the novel, as well as interactions between the director and auditioning actress, which start to blend together as the play goes on. The play opens with the director, Thomas, frustrated that he can't find his Vanda after a long day of auditions. In walks a woman named, coincidentally, Vanda. She's flustered and flighty, having been caught in the rain, and seems ill-prepared for the audition. But Thomas reluctantly agrees to let her audition, and the moment she starts speaking, she becomes the Vanda from the book, and it's clear that she knows more than she's let on. She convinces Thomas to read the role of Severin, a man who falls so deeply in love with Vanda that he begs to become her slave. As they interact in character and as themselves, the balance of power shifts subtly between Vanda/Vanda and Severin/Thomas, so that it's difficult to keep track of who has the upper hand. The line between fiction and reality gets blurred, and it soon becomes clear that Vanda has an agenda that goes way beyond just getting a role in a play.

Anna Sundberg and Peter Christian Hansen

The play is one long scene, with neither actor leaving the stage or even taking a breath for 90 minutes. Both Anna and Peter give fantastic performances, as expected, and are just as comfortable in the period roles as the modern. Anna always throws herself completely into every role I've seen her play, holding nothing back, and this is no exception. As Vanda the actress she's funny and a little goofy, as Vanda the character she's smooth and elegant, and she even gets to play the seductive Venus herself. Peter is, as always, wonderfully intense. He too, gets to play multiple roles - the somewhat reserved director who is gradually drawn out by Vanda as he lives the roles he has written, Vanda's "slave" Severin (whom she calls Thomas, the footman!), and even taking a turn as Vanda. Under the expert direction of Joel Sass (who, as usual, also designed the set - a sparse and lifelike rehearsal room), Anna and Peter create a beautiful crazy dance.

When the lights went down at the end of the play, I had a moment of "wait, what just happened?" But I like that. It's never quite clear what Vanda's motivations are in planning this scenario, but I guess the playwright meant it to be ambivalent, I mean ambiguous. People and relationships are not what they seem, and are constantly changing. Go see Venus in Fur, playing now through March 10, for a wildly entertaining and engaging night at one of the best theaters in town, featuring a couple of the best actors in town.




*The James J. Hill House is currently hosting another production of a classic play - The Gonzo Group Theatre's Long Day's Journey Into Night, starring real-life married couple Claudia Wilkins and Richard Ooms.