"Once" at the State Theatre

There's no big opening number, no splashy dance with dozens of chorus girls and boys, no pit orchestra, no large moving set pieces, no colorful glamorous costumes. Once is not your typical musical. In fact, according to The Cherry and Spoon Music-Theater Spectrum¹ it's not a musical at all, but rather a play with music. Yet this atypical not-really-a-musical musical won eight Tony Awards in 2012. Why is that? Why was this quiet and quirky musical based on a little Irish movie awarded Broadway's biggest prize? Perhaps because it is different from other musicals. Perhaps the voters awarded the creative and organic way music is used to tell this beautifully simple and non-traditional love story. Once is a new kind of music-theater, and proves that musicals don't always have to be big and loud to have a profound effect on the audience. Once is quietly, beautifully stirring.

This is the second time that the First National Tour of Once has stopped in Minneapolis, with largely the same cast, although this time it's making its home in the slightly more intimate State Theater². The tagline for this tour is "once is not enough," but for me, thrice is not enough as I would gladly go see it again every night of its brief one-week Minneapolis stay! Perhaps I'm biased - Once is one of my favorite movies and my favorite movie soundtrack, and it introduced me to my favorite musician Glen Hansard. But even without that prior attachment, it's easy to see that Once is something truly special. The music is raw and passionate, performed by a cast of 13 quadruple threats - they act, sing, dance (or at least move in a choreographed way), AND play an instrument. This folk-rock score written by the stars of the movie, Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, is not the kind of music you usually hear coming from the Broadway stage; it's quieter, less polished, and more real³. The story is simple and quiet - boy meets girl, boy fixes girl's Hoover, girl encourages boy to record his songs and follow his dreams, boy and girl go on with their separate lives, better for having met one another. John Carney's original story was adapted for the stage by the beautifully twisted mind of playwright Enda Walsh, retaining that unique Irish spirit⁴. The result as a whole is lovely, poignant, moving, and grand.

the loveable oddballs of Once

Since this is largely the same cast as last year, I'll repeat what I said then: As the guy, Stuart Ward has big shoes to fill - both those of Glen Hansard and Steve Kazee, who won a Tony for the role. And fill them he does, although in a different style than either of these predecessors. He possesses a gorgeous voice that's more musical theater than folk-rock, a moody intensity, and great stage charisma. The character of the girl changed so much from movie to stage that all thoughts of Marketa Irglova are gone, but Cristin Milioti (aka the surprisingly short-lived "Mother") left a great impression. Dani de Waal fills those shoes nicely in the quite tricky role of the girl, charming and sweet but not too perky. And when Stuart and Dani sing together, as on the Oscar-winning song "Falling Slowly," it's wondrous. The two are well supported and enhanced by ten wonderful actor/singer/musicians (and one adorable little girl). Standouts include Evan Harrington as the good-natured but tough music store owner, Scott Waara as the guy's sweet Da (with a really lovely pre-show song), and Matt DeAngelis, providing comic relief and powerful percussion as Svec (you know you're a true musical theater geek when you recognize touring cast members, as I did Matt; I clearly remember him as Woof in another musical obsession of mine, Hair, and in American Idiot).

The set is a pub that never changes, with tables and chairs brought out to represent different settings. Through it all, most of the cast remains on stage, watching from the sidelines. Dingy mirrors surround the stage and offer other angles of the action. The movement and choreography is so beautiful, subtle, and organic. There are no typical "dance numbers," just characters moving organically as the music moves them. Even the scene changes are beautifully and elegantly carried out, as not a moment is wasted.

The show begins before the show begins; the audience is allowed onstage to visit the pub and drink an overpriced beer through a straw. But it's worth it because the cast of musicians soon comes onstage for a traditional Irish session which you're able to witness up close and personal. After the audience is escorted off the stage, the session continues as the cast trades songs, until the musical baton is passed to the guy in the scarf, he belts out an impassioned "Leave," and the house lights go down. Just like that, reality fades and the world of the play takes over, and is so engrossing that it's like a dream. One that I hated to leave.

Stuart Ward and Dani de Waal

Unlike what Hollywood and Broadway usually tell us, not everyone gets a happily ever after kind of love, and maybe that's not even the ideal kind of love to strive for. If we're lucky, we get an hour, or a day, or a week-long encounter with someone who changes our life and pushes us forward when we've become "stopped." Maybe that's what life is, a series of moments, encounters, relationships, that might not last a lifetime although their effects do. That's what this story is about, and that's what these two people do for each other. It's a perfect love story, even though it may not end in the way that we're taught to expect. And it's also a love story about Ireland and its rich and unique culture, that the girl describes as "speaking and singing of what it is to be human." She tells the guy that he has "heart and soul," and this unique music-theater creation has heart and soul in spades, and speaks and sings of what it is to be human, with all the heartbreak, joy, disappointment, passion, connection, difficulties, and wonder it entails.

Once continues at the State Theatre in downtown Minneapolis through this weekend only. Whether it's once, twice, thrice, or more, it's a grand experience that's not to be missed.


1. The Cherry and Spoon Music-Theater Spectrum (TM pending): in a musical, characters sing in character, expressing their emotions and moving the plot forward. In a play with music, the music takes place in context, with characters singing in a way that would make sense in real life, and don't sing as the character. If you take the music out of a play with music, it still makes sense, although some of the impact is lost. If you take the music out of a musical, the story no longer makes sense.
2. Find out more about the State, Orpheum, and other local theaters in my "Review of Venues."
3. If you like the music of Once, check out Glen and Mar's follow-up album Strict Joy under their band name The Swell Season, or their solo albums Rhythm and Repose and Muna (among others), or the upcoming album commemorating the 25th anniversary of Glen's band The Frames.
4. For another taste of that unique Irish spirit, go see Guthrie departing Artistic Director Joe Dowling's loving ode to his homeland, the beautifully tragic Juno and the Paycock.


This article also appears on Broadway World Minneapolis.

"The New Electric Ballroom" by Frank Theatre at the New Century Theatre

Enda Walsh seems to be a perfect match for Frank Theatre. Their mission is "to produce unique work that stretches the skill of the artists who create the work while simultaneously challenging the everyday perceptions of the audience." In other words, they do weird stuff, but weird in the best possible way, in the way that challenges the audience and encourages us to look at things in a new way, even if we don't quite understand it. Irish playwright Enda Walsh also writes weird and interesting and challenging and utterly unique plays. Hennepin Theatre Trust is marketing The New Electric Ballroom as "from the author of Once." Please don't go to this expecting to see Once; The New Electric Ballroom is most definitely not Once. Enda Walsh did not create the world or the characters in Once, he adapted a film, putting his gritty Irish stamp on it. But the worlds he creates himself are much more dark and twisted and complex. As with last year's Ivey award-winning Misterman, Frank once again does beautiful work with this weird, challenging, disturbing, completely engrossing, crazy brilliant play.

Much like in Misterman, The New Electric Ballroom features characters that are trapped in the past. More specifically, in one pivotal day in the past. Sisters Clara and Breda, in their 60s, reenact a traumatic experience they had when they were teenagers, relating all of this to their younger sister Ada, who encourages them to keep telling the story even when it's almost too painful to continue. They put on make-up and the clothes they were wearing that day as they go through the story for what seems like the thousandth time, a story that involves a long bike ride, a handsome singer, a town dance, and an event so traumatic that Clara and Breda have not left the house since. It's difficult to understand Ada's place in the story, the one sister that leaves the house to go out in the world, and why she forces them to do this repeatedly. On this one particular day, they invite the fishmonger Patsy, their one contact with the outside world, to play a part in their story. Patsy has his own issues, and a surprising connection to the story. There's a glimmer of hope for a way out of this endless cycle, but it's quickly squashed, and the sisters' sad life continues as before.

sisters Breda (Melissa Hart), Ada (Virginia Burke), and
Clara (Katherine Ferrand) contemplate eating the cake
as Patsy (Patrick Bailey) looks on (photo by Tony Nelson)

This four-person cast could not be better, nor could Wendy Knox's direction. Each actor is so immersed in their character, and each character is more than she or he seems. Katherine Ferrand is a thing of fragile and disturbed beauty as the childlike Clara. Melissa Hart is also excellent as the somewhat stronger and more together sister Breda. Virginia Burke is the sane center of this family as Ada, until we learn that she has her issues too. Irishman Patrick Bailey with his authentic accent is a delight to listen to as he tells the sisters his stories, and later reveals a deeper and darker side to Patsy. These four characters don't so much converse with each other, as recite long monologues, repeating their part of the story or talking to themselves, often not hearing what the other has said. Several passages are repeated throughout the play, creating a harshly beautiful rhythm.

This is the second play I've seen at the New Century Theatre where the stage has been built out, and I've come to see that it's a must for most plays. Even though a few rows of seating are lost, the usual wide and shallow stage often just doesn't work. In this case, Andrea Heilman has designed a shabby but neat little home on the square stage, with vintage kitchen appliances and tape players.

The New Electric Ballroom continues for only two more weekends, so get there soon if you like complex, layered, disturbing, engrossing, tragic, beautifully performed theater.


This article also appears on Broadway World Minneapolis.

"Misterman" by Frank Theatre at the Southern Theater

I go to a lot of theater (obviously). Most of it falls within the realm of the expected. It's rare that I see something that's completely unlike anything I've seen before. So when I do, I appreciate it, even if I don't quite understand it all. It's refreshing in my typical 3-4 shows a week schedule to see something bold, edgy, risky, and utterly captivating. Frank Theatre's production of Irish playwright Enda Walsh's* one-man show Misterman is such a piece. Featuring a truly remarkable performance by John Catron, a fantastic space, and pretty intricate technical choreography of audio recordings and equipment that start and stop on cue, it's definitely something to see. It may not for everyone, but as someone who sees a great quantity of theater, it's just what I needed to jar me out of the usual.

I'm not sure I can even summarize the plot for you, but I'll try. There's a man named Thomas living in the small Irish town of Inishfree. He reenacts one day in his life with the help of audio recordings of his parents and neighbors. When he leaves his front door (but not really) and meets people in the town (but not really), he also acts out their side of the conversation. He buys his mammy's favorite biscuits, visits his father's grave, treats himself to a cheesecake, and goes to a local dance. This is all happening inside his own head, as he desperately tries to make sense of how he ended up where he is (wherever that is). It's not so much about what happens as how it happens and what it means for this fascinating character.

John Catron channels crazed
Irishman Thomas

This is a gutsy, fearless, no-holds-barred performance by John Catron (and I thought he let loose as the drunken Jamie Tryone in Long Day's Journey Into Night, but that was nothing compared to this!). In what must be a physically and emotionally exhausting ninety minutes, he sprints across the large space of the Southern Theater, laughs, cries, cooks an egg and eats it, gets drenched by rain, strips, runs in place, climbs up and down stairs, and plays several different characters opposite each other, all with different accents and physicality. He acts opposite a tape recording and makes it so believable you can almost see the person he's talking to. He is completely immersed in this character, and just watching the expression on his face change as he listens to a recording of a particularly pivotal moment in his life is revelatory. Thomas is a deeply disturbed man, but John also makes him sympathetic. It's a fully committed performance that is fascinating to watch.

The Southern Theater is one of my favorite places to watch theater. The cavernous space has so much room to be transformed. Sometimes it's sparse, bare, and beautiful, and other times, like this, it's cluttered with the things that make up the universe of the play. All kinds of discarded recording equipment are piled on shelves and in corners. A makeshift kitchen is on one side of the stage, complete with a working hot plate and sink. A cemetery is constructed out of orange pop cans, as if Thomas has created the world in which he plays out his story. Kudos to director Wendy Knox and the tech team (set design by Michael Sommers, sound design by Michael Croswell) for the flawless execution of the many pieces and parts that go into this play - recordings that play right on cue, things that drop from the ceiling, and tape players that turn on and off. (Some pretty big local theater names lend their voices to the recordings, which are mostly unrecognizable due to the accents, but it's still fun to guess.) There are a lot of moving parts in this "one-man show," and it all appears seamless and effortless.

Misterman plays at the Southern Theater Thursdays through Sundays, now through April 28. If you're looking for something different and interesting and a little bit bizarre, this is it. In addition, Frank Theatre is offering free readings of three other plays by Enda Walsh on Wednesdays at the Southern. If I weren't booked the next three Wednesdays I'd check it out to get a deeper look into the (somewhat disturbed) mind of this playwright.




*A big reason why I wanted to see this play is to see more work by Enda Walsh, who I know as the Tony-winning book writer of the musical Once, the musical adaptation of one of my favorite movies. Never in a million years would I have connected the writer of Misterman with Once, so different are the two pieces. But after thinking about it a bit, it makes perfect sense. The movie Once is a quiet, subtle story, one that doesn't translate easily to the traditional big Broadway musical stage. Enda Walsh brings some of that rawness that is so apparent in Misterman to Once, keeping it from becoming too sweet and sappy, and keeping it grounded in reality. I guess that's why they gave him a Tony for it.

"Once" at the Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre on Broadway

The soundtrack to the 2006 Irish movie Once, featuring music by Irish musician Glen Hansard of the band The Frames and Czech musician Marketa Irglova, is my favorite movie soundtrack.  It literally has not left my car CD player in the last five or so years.  I also love their CD Strict Joy, released under the name Swell Season, and am eagerly awaiting the June release of Glen's first solo CD, Rhythm and Repose.  I've seen them perform live several times and they're amazing musicians.  Glen in particular is one of the most passionate musicians I've ever seen live, and I'll continue to go see him whenever he's in town.  So it was with much excitement and trepidation when I heard that there was going to be a stage musical version of the film.  I love the story and the music, but would they be able to translate the magic of the film to the stage without ruining a good thing?  The reviews were pretty good, but I had to see it for myself (hence this trip to NYC).  Good news: I loved it almost as much as the original.  The musical is different from the film; where the film is subtle and internal with much left unspoken, the music is more cutesy and external with things more obviously spelled out (sometimes literally).  But the film is so sparse that I suppose they have to fill it out for a live audience.  I think it's quite successful and well done; the magic of Once is retained on stage, if in a slightly different form.

The general plot of Once, both film and musical, is this: a street musician who works at his dad's vacuum repair shop has recently gone through a bad breakup and is disenchanted with life.  He meets a young Czech immigrant woman who's full of life and encourages him to make music and get his girl back.  In the movie, this encouragement is more subtle, but in the stage musical the girl is relentless in convincing the guy to move on (the characters have no names).  This sort of perkiness could be annoying, but in the hands of Cristin Milioti it's quite charming and irresistible.  She walks the fine line of being sweet and quirky without being cloying.  Steve Kazee as the guy is no Glen Hansard, but he may be the next best thing.  His voice is smoother than Glen's, more musical theater than folk-rock, but by the time he finished the first song, the raw and heart-wrenching "Leave," he had won me over.  He effectively played the heartache of the character and his slow coming back to life through the interaction with this girl and the music they make together.  What I love about the movie, that thankfully they've kept in the musical, is that these are two people who meet and have an intense connection that profoundly changes the direction of each of their lives, and then they continue on different paths.  In a Hollywood movie, they would end up together, but this seems much more real and poignant somehow.  It's a true love story, but one that you don't often see on screen or stage.  I ran across a quote by Albert Schweitzer that reminds me of this show: "In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit."  That's what these two people did - rekindle each other's inner spirit.

The two strong leads are surrounded by 11 talented musician/actors (one of whom is an adorable little girl) who play instruments (fiddle, guitar, drums, etc.), sing, act out several roles, and generally contribute to the atmosphere of Irishness.  Standouts in the cast include the impressively bearded Paul Whitty as the owner of the music store who's smitten with and protective of the girl, and David Patrick Kelly (of Twin Peaks fame) as the guy's stoic but supportive father.  But really they're all wonderful musicians and actors.  When not involved in the action, they sit around the edge of the stage, which is made up to look like an Irish pub (from which you can buy overpriced drinks before the show, although sadly they do not have Guinness, which is how you know it's not a real Irish pub).  The scene transitions are interesting and graceful, with the pub serving as a bank office, the girl's apartment, and the guy's bedroom.  The choreography is sparse and lovely, very organic to the story and characters.  One effect I think they could do without is the surtitles.  At times they display the dialogue in Czech as it supposedly is being spoken by the Czech characters, while we hear them speak English.  Later they display the English translation when the girl is speaking Czech.  It's a little confusing and inconsistant.

the ensemble, Cristin Milioti, and Steve Kazee

This seems an unlikely Broadway musical.  Based on a small indie movie, with obscure Irish references, featuring acoustic folk music (my favorite genre), and no "riding off into the sunset" type of ending, it's not your typical musical.  The songs are incorporated organically; instead of characters breaking out into song as dialogue, they sing in the context of a recording session or at a pub.  It's pushing the boundaries of what music-theater can be, and I love that.  We met most of the cast at the stage door, and they were all very kind and generous with their time (which is usually the case).  They all seem to be aware and grateful that they are involved in something special.  Here's wishing them a long run on Broadway (and maybe they can get some Guinness for the pub ;).  If you're in NYC, it's definitely worth checking out.  And make sure to get there early to enjoy the pre-show entertainment - an authentic Irish pub session featuring the talented musicians in the cast singing traditional songs.