"Scarecrow on Fire" by Illusion Theater at Center for Performing Arts

Illusion Theater is closing out their 50th anniversary season with the most delightful show, Minnesota treasure Kevin Kling's Scarecrow on Fire. It's a sequel of sorts to The Wizard of Oz, presented as a radio play and featuring live music and archival footage from the 1925 silent film version of The Wizard of Oz (I know, I didn't know that existed either!). Kevin originally wrote this piece for Minnesota Public Ratio, recorded in front of a live audience and broadcast on the airwaves. They've maintained the radio play style for this production, and reunited the original team - actors Simone Perrin, Stephen Yoakam, and Dan Chouinard (who also plays piano and accordion), and musicians Michelle Kinney (cello) and the House of Mercy Band. The mix of all of these artists, with the source material that is so beloved to so many of us, creates something so unique and special. It's funny and silly and charming, but also really heart-warming and even a little profound. It may just bring tears to your eyes as it highlights the beauty and frailty of life. The bad news is it's a short run, with only six performances remaining, two of which are sold out. So act fast to catch this special event!

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.

"The Tempest" at the Guthrie Theater

The Guthrie's production of Shakespeare's The Tempest, which opened last month and continues through April 16, is "such stuff as dreams are made on." Former Artistic Director Joe Dowling returns to the Guthrie to direct this piece, the first time since he left in 2015. I became a subscriber and fell in love with the Guthrie (and through it, the local theater community) during the Joe Dowling era, so this production feels very familiar and comforting to me, like going home. That big blue beautiful building on the Mississippi (which Joe Dowling shepherded into existence) truly is one of my happy places. And this Tempest is a joyful celebration of the magic we call theater, one that's especially heart-warming after the very long intermission of the last two years. This is the first fully new production of the Guthrie's 2021-2022 pandemic-shortened season (they hosted the touring production of What the Constitution Means to Me last fall, and put a new spin on their 40+ year annual tradition The Christmas Carol), and they've just announced an exciting new 60th anniversary season (my 19th as a subscriber). It feels so good to come home to the Guthrie again.

"Animate" by Mixed Blood Theatre at the Como Zoo

photo by Rich Ryan

Earlier this year, Jack Reuler announced his retirement as Artistic Director of Mixed Blood Theatre, a company he founded in 1976. Mixed Blood has truly become a model of inclusivity, diversity, and accessibility in theater, amplifying often unheard voices on stage and off, and making sure everyone is able to be in the audience with its Radical Hospitality program. But before he retires, Jack is directing another incredible site-specific piece. The new play Animate, written by Ken LaZebnik, is an immersive ambulatory play at the Como Zoo that is, of course, about a zoo. Specifically about the ethics of zoos, accepting donations from wealthy people of questionable character, and "does the good of the many supersede the good of the individual," human or animal. It's an impressive logistical feat, features a ton of #TCTheater talent, and asks some big questions without providing easy answers. In fact, the audience is asked to provide their own answers to the big questions of the show. Unfortunately, the entire (free) run is sold out, but stay tuned in case more dates are added (click here for details).

"Blood Knot" at Pillsbury House Theatre

Despite being written almost 60 years ago in a country on the other side of the planet, Blood Knot, currently playing at Pillsbury House Theatre, feels very relevant to the here and now. Through the story of two brothers, one dark-skinned and one light enough to pass for white, South African playwright Athol Fugard explores the complex issues of racism and white privilege, before that term was in our collective consciousness. It's remarkable that this play was performed (for one performance only) in Johannesburg in 1961, with it's strong anti-apartheid message. But even in Minnesota in 2019, we still have lessons to learn from it. This is a powerful, intense, and sobering play, beautifully acted by two beloved #TCTheater veterans.

"The Children" at Jungle Theater

The Jungle Theater produced some of my favorite work in #TCTheater last year, and they're showing no signs of stopping that trend in 2019. Their first show of the year (my fifth, but who's counting), is the first post-Broadway production of The Children by Lucy Kirkwood (not to be confused with the re-imagined Medea play The Children by Michael Elyanow produced by Pillsbury House a few years ago). In a pre-show speech by Artistic Director Sarah Rasmussen (who has only made the Jungle better in her short tenure), she said that this team of actors, designers, and director are a master class of putting together a piece of theater. I couldn't agree more. Everything about this play is impeccable, from this very specific design that transports the audience to a seaside cottage after a nuclear disaster, to the three-person cast of beloved veterans of stage and screen, and everything else that allows this magic to happen. Get yourself to Uptown (as much of a pain as that sometimes is) to see this brilliant work of theater that will leave you contemplating life for days to come.

"West of Central" at Pillsbury House Theatre

A thrilling mystery in the classic noir style set in LA in the '60s sounds fun, but add in the fact that the smart and savvy detective is an African American woman and the play deals with issues of racism, segregation, riots, and changing neighborhoods, and you have a uniquely engaging and thought-provoking new play that only favorite #TCTheater playwright Christina Ham could write. West of Central was developed at the Playwright's Center, where I saw a reading two years ago as part of their Playlabs Festival. It was great then, and it's even better now after some tweaking and fully staged at Pillsbury House Theatre with precise design. Directed by Haley Finn (who also directed the PWC reading) and featuring a fantastic cast of local faves, West of Central is not just super cool and fun, but also has some interesting things to say about race relations then and now, as well as how we choose to live where we live and where we call home.

"The Nether" at Jungle Theater

If you want to be super creeped out by technology and where our increasingly tech-dependent society is heading, go see The Nether at the Jungle Theater. This intense 90-minute sci-fi thriller is set in the not to distant future in a world that looks not that different from our own. Like HBO's Westworld, with which it shares more than a few similarities, it asks questions about morality and ethics in uncharted technological territories, without providing the answers. The Nether is frightening and eerie and thought-provoking and extremely disturbing. And I loved every minute, thanks to the taut direction by Casey Stangl, excellent cast, and stunning design.

"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.

"Barbecue" at Mixed Blood Theatre

When you see as much theater as I do, you can often see where things are going. Not so with Barbecue at Mixed Blood Theatre. This play did something that theater rarely does - it surprised me. Surprised me in such a huge way that the play I ended up watching was not the play I thought I was watching at the beginning. Surprised me in such a wonderfully clever and challenging way that this post is going to be frustratingly vague and uninformative because I don't want to ruin that surprise for anyone. If you're intrigued, just go see the show and find out what I'm talking about. In addition to being surprising, Barbecue is also really funny and asks some tough questions. Questions about race, questions about our assumptions about race, questions about how different races are portrayed in the media, questions about truth, questions about drug and alcohol abuse, questions about family relations. There's a lot going on at this little family barbecue, and this incredible cast pulls it off brilliantly.

"The Night Alive" at the Jungle Theater

The Night Alive is an odd little play. Which is really no surprise - it's Irish. No offense meant, I love all things Irish, including odd little Irish plays. I'm not quite sure what to make of Irish playwright Conor McPherson's newest work The Night Alive, now playing at the Jungle Theater, other that it's funny, tragic, and wholly engaging. This tale of a bunch of misfits in a run-down house in Dublin is brought to gritty life by an endlessly watchable five-person cast speaking with lovely Irish brogues (some more authentic than others) and the Jungle's usual perfection in design. I may have left the theater a little perplexed, but definitely with something to chew on.

"The Crucible" at the Guthrie Theater

Arthur Miller's 1953 play The Crucible is a classic of the American theater, and dramatizes one of the greatest failings of the American, or rather pre-American, judicial system. During the infamous Salem witch trials of the late 17th Century, twenty people were put to death for the crime of witchcraft, following a long history of the execution of "witches" in Europe. Arthur Miller explores the larger themes of this horrible incident through a very personal story of one affected family, making the play at once intimate and epic. Despite being over 60 years old, the themes of religious fanaticism, mob mentality, and persecution of people who are different are sadly as current as they were during the McCarthy era when the play was written. The Guthrie's grand production of this classic with a cast chock-full of talent is truly something to behold. It's long and intense, but somehow the nearly three hours didn't feel long to me; I was engaged every minute by this compelling story and these beautifully flawed and human characters.

The story begins when the Reverend Parris discovers several young women, including his daughter Betty and niece Abigail, dancing in the woods. Yes, dancing! Betty is afflicted by a strange illness that is blamed on the family's Barbadian slave who is accused of conjuring spirits. In what amounts to a harmless prank gone horribly wrong (never underestimate the power of teenage girls), the girls continue to accuse more and more people of witchcraft, who are given the option of confessing or hanging. The whole thing spirals out of control and Abigail soon accuses her former employer/lover John Proctor's wife, an honest and well-respected woman. John attempts to defend his wife but is powerless against the mass hysteria that has overtaken the community. But somehow in the midst this devastating event, he's able to face the truth and become the best version of himself.

the deputy-governor and John Proctor (Stephen Yoakam and
Erik Heger) with the accusers (photo by T. Charles Erickson)

This is a huge play with many characters but just four long scenes, each of which is like a mini play in itself with several different segments and lots of people entering and exiting. All of it is beautifully orchestrated by the Guthrie's departing Artistic Director Joe Dowling. Joe has directed several Arthur Miller* plays at the Guthrie in his 20-year tenure, but this is his first time doing The Crucible here, and it's a beautiful swan song. The 20+ person cast truly is an embarrassment of riches. There are so many wonderful, experienced, beloved actors who pass through the story for just a moment or two. I'm wondering if some of them took the role just to be part of one of Joe Dowling's last productions at the Guthrie.**

Michelle O'Neill and Erik Heger as
Elizabeth and John Proctor
(photo by T. Charles Erickson)

This production reunites Mr. and Mrs. Macbeth from the 2010 production at the Guthrie (one of my favorites that year) as Mr. and Mrs. Proctor. Michelle O'Neill gives a quietly powerful and emotional performance, and Erik Heger is, as he was five years ago, just magnificent. John Proctor is the kind of role that covers the full range of emotions, from angry to devastated, proud to broken, and Erik hits every note. So raw, so emotional, he has the audience in the palm of his hand in the final climactic scene.

Other highlights in this huge and talented cast include: Stephen Yoakam, always a strong and formidable presence onstage and therefore a perfect choice to play the deputy-governor in charge of the legal proceedings; beloved Guthrie vet Peter Michael Goetz, bringing welcome comic relief through the role of Giles Corey, who was tried along with his wife; the great Wendy Lehr, who could bring comfort to any bewitched person, as noble accused Goody Nurse; and several graduates and students of the U of M/Guthrie BFA program (aka the Guthrie's rich farm system), including Chloe Armao as instigator Abigail Williams, and Ashley Rose Montondo, going from sane and sympathetic friend of the Proctors to full out crazy as Mary Warren.

For the opening dancing-in-the-woods scene, a dozen or so large heavy trees hang just above the stage, their roots not quite touching. They are then raised to the ceiling and hang over the rest of the proceedings like a dark cloud. Ominous sounds and lighting add to the somber and heavy mood (set, lighting, and sound by Richard Hoover, Mark McCullough, and Scott W. Edwards). Jane Greenwood's prim and proper period costumes look so authentic you feel like you're right back there in 1692.

As a theater geek I should have seen this play before now, but I have not, and only have vague memories of the 1996 movie starring Daniel Day-Lewis and Winona Ryder. Now I get why it's such a classic - an important and frightening incident in our history that still has echos in today's world, a personal story of one man's struggle with honor, faith, and redemption, an intense and compelling three hours of theater. It's also a powerful argument for why the separation of church and state is absolutely essential and one of the best things about this country, so that no one person's religious belief is allowed to take away the rights, or in this case the life, of another person who's seen to be in some way evil under that belief.

The two shows on the Guthrie's main stages right now are on opposite ends of the spectrum. Mr. Burns, A Post-Electric Play on the Proscenium Stage is a new, modern, creative, and innovative play. Across the lobby on the Thrust Stage, The Crucible is a fine and faithful production of a beloved and acclaimed classic. For traditional theater excellently executed with a huge cast full of mostly local talent and top-notch production values, it's a play not to be missed (playing now through May 24).


*Read more about Joe Dowling and the Guthrie Theater's relationship with Arthur Miller here.
**The Guthrie will celebrate Joe Dowling in a gala performance on June 6 - limited seats still available.


This article also appears on Broadway World Minneapolis.

"Colossal" at Mixed Blood Theatre

"Clear eyes, full heart, can't lose." The excellent TV series Friday Night Lights is about all I know of football, and all I care to. But I still went to Mixed Blood Theatre's football-themed play Colossal, partly because I thought I heard rumors of a marching band (wrong, no band, just a three-person drumline), but mostly because it looked intriguing. Like Friday Night Lights, there's much to enjoy and appreciate about Colossal even for those of us who don't like football. Also like Friday Night Lights, the plot centers around a star player who was paralyzed during a game. It's a powerful story, beautifully told, with great innovation in the timing of the play and in the feats of athleticism on display. In fact it's so good, it almost made me like football, and that's saying something.

The audience is seated five minutes before game time, I mean showtime, with the sound of the drums and the football players' pre-show cheers. Mixed Blood's black box theater has been turned into a mini football field, with bleacher seats for the audience. Before the show, coach Stephen Yoakam puts eight strong, fit, athletic young men through a series of drills - catching, blocking, running - while an older man does yoga. For the first time I appreciated the athleticism of football; it's really quite beautiful in its own way, like a kind of a dance. The pre-show gives way to the start of the play, which is structured as four 15 minute quarters, with the time counted down on the scoreboard. One of the most remarkable things about this production is that the scenes end exactly on time. If they go too fast, there's dead air while we wait for the clock to run down. Too slow and they run out of time. But that never happened. And despite the short run time and the presence of the ticking clock, nothing feels rushed, there are still quiet moments of stillness filled with emotion. The logistics of the whole thing work like clockwork, but the artistry of the story is never sacrificed.

Mike (Toby Forrest) and the team

And the story that is told is beautiful, poignant, and tragic. In dueling realities, we see Mike after his accident (quadriplegic actor Toby Forrest, in a moving and heartfelt performance) and young Mike pre-accident (Torsten Johnson, full of energy and brash confidence). Young Mike appears like a devil on Mike's shoulder, keeping him from moving on and healing from the hurt. In addition to the physical injury, Mike is also hurting from a broken heart; he was in love with one of his teammates (like if Jason Street were in love with Smash), who hasn't come to see him since the accident almost a year ago. Mike's dancer father (the yogi, gracefully played by David Deblieck) doesn't know how to help him, and his physical therapist Jerry (the always excellent Ansa Akyea) tries, but Mike isn't willing. He continually watches a tape of his accident, as the football players and young Mike reenact it for us, pausing as Mike presses pause on his remote, unwilling to go past the impact to what happens next. Memories of Marcus (a charismatic Darius Dotch) and the relationship they had also hold him back. Over the course of an hour (unlike a football game, it really does only last an hour), Mike works to let go of the hurt so he can move forward with the life he has now.

a pre-injury Mike (Torsten Johnson) is flying high

Many artforms combine to create a truly innovative piece of theater. The drumline provides the soundtrack for the drills and game scenes. A beautiful dance entertains us at halftime, performed by Mike and his dad along with a troupe of dancers. The actors playing Mike's teammates run around the stage like athletes, and look like real football players in a real practice (at least to my football-ignorant eye). The entire theater has been transformed, from the set to the bleacher seats to the ushers in football jerseys. All woven together with a beautiful script by Andrew Hinderaker (who wrote this play in response to an "unproducible play" challenge) and smoothly brought to life by director Will Davis. There's a palpable energy in that room that's quite different from anything I've felt at the theater before.

I'm apparently one of the few Americans who doesn't like football (I haven't attended a game since high school, when I was forced to because I was in the marching band, hence my hope to see a marching band at halftime). But this play isn't about football. It's about a passion for something you love and sacrifice everything for, family that supports you no matter what, falling in love and making stupid decisions because of it, getting stuck in the past and having the courage to move past it, letting go of what was and embracing what is (aka "no day but today").

Don't expect to see me at a Vikings game anytime soon (or ever), but I do have a greater appreciation for the sport of football and its place in our culture, as well as the damage that it can cause. Whether you like football or not, head to Mixed Blood Theatre between now and November 9 to experience some truly unique theater. And you can't beat the price - all tickets at Mixed Blood are free thanks to their Radical Hospitality program (although donations are accepted, and advance reservations are $20).

"Othello" at the Guthrie Theater

Shakespeare's Othello, now playing at the Guthrie Theater, is billed as "an astonishing epic of sweeping passions and murderous ambition – a thrilling meditation on the power of love and the destructiveness of suspicion, all triggered by one of literature’s most seductively manipulative villains." It's the kind of Shakespeare play where half of the characters end up dead in the epic final scene, a delicious drama. Unfortunately it also requires a level of focus and concentration that I did not have after too many late nights out at the theater; the three-hour running time was just too much for me. But I was still able to appreciate that it's a beautiful production with marvelous performances by the large cast of Guthrie favorites.

The basic plot of the play is this: Iago hates Othello, his superior in the Venetian army, and plots to bring him down. This plot involves making him think that his new wife Desdemona is having an affair with his lieutenant Cassio. The plot succeeds, in a way, but Iago is not left unscathed.

Some thoughts on the show:

• I didn't understand why Iago hates Othello so much, or why Othello so gullibly believes Iago when he tells him Desdemona is cheating on him. It's like on Survivor when one tribemate tells another that someone wants them out, and they believe it when it's so obviously a manipulative lie. (Yes, I just compared Shakespeare to Survivor, my apologies.)
• I've recently been watching the Netflix series House of Cards, and couldn't help but be reminded of Kevin Spacey's slimy manipulative politician when watching the lengths Iago goes to and the many people he manipulates to get back at Othello.
• The costumes by ESOSA (aka Project Runway contestant and Tony-nominated designer Emilio Sosa) are gorgeous, especially Desdemona's parade of dresses that would make Queen Marjaery jealous. Emilia's bold orange gown is also stunning, as are the men's multi-layered costumes. And the wigs are really nice as well.
• The fight scenes are great fun to watch, and also frightening as they often end in tragedy.
• Every member of this huge cast of Guthrie favorites does a wonderful job with whatever role they're given, large or small. Stephen Yoakam is deliciously dark and evil as Iago; Peter Macon (who I so clearly remember kneeling with blood streaming from his eyes in Oedipus) has a beautiful commanding voice, and plays the range from giddy in love to devastated and rageful; John Catron is the charming Cassio with another great drunken scene; the three women in the cast - Tracey Maloney as Desdemona, Regina Marie Williams as Iago's wife and Desdemona's lady-in-waiting, and Sun Mee Chomet as the courtesan in love with Cassio - are all wonderful; Kris L. Nelson provides some comic relief as Iago's pawn Roderigo who's in love with Desdemona (fun fact: he's married to her in real life!).

Othello, playing now through April 20, is worth seeing for this wonderful cast directed by the always great Marion McClinton. But if, like me, you are not a Shakespeare expert, I recommend you read a plot summary before you go (you can do that here), and if, like me, you are not a night person, consider seeing a matinee and/or getting a good night's sleep before seeing the show.

"An Iliad" at the Guthrie Theater

Stepping off the elevator onto the 9th floor of the Guthrie Theater, I was treated to a site I've never seen before, despite having seen dozens of productions in the Dowling Studio. The wall that separates the lobby from the theater was gone - leaving a full view of the stage from the elevator, with the audience seats behind it and to one side. The Studio is what they call a "black box theater," meaning the room is just a big black box, in which the stage and seating can be arranged in infinitely different ways. But in reality, there are three or four common arrangements that are usually used. The set-up for An Iliad, a one-man show version of Homer's epic poem The Iliad, is the most creative use of the flexibility that this stage has to offer that I've seen. At one point our storyteller goes out into the lobby part of the theater and explores the glorious echo heard in that space, utilizing every square inch of the 9th floor. But this is not the most remarkable part of An Iliad. That would be Stephen Yoakam's performance as the storyteller poet. He tells the story directly to the audience (the house lights were fully or partly up for some of the show, creating that feeling of interaction), as well as acting out many roles from a baby to a crippled god, imbuing each moment with such depth of emotion. It's another one of those epic one-man show performances that must be seen.

I was vaguely familiar with The Iliad from my high school and college studies, as most people probably are. It tells the story of The Trojan War, you know - the one with the Trojan Horse, "the face that launched a thousand ships," Achilles, Agamemnon, and all of that. But the brilliant thing about this telling of the ancient story (co-written by Lisa Peterson and Denis O'Hare), is that it's really about any and every war that's ever been fought. At one point our storyteller lists what seems like every war in human history, and there are disturbingly many. The list is endless, and he gets more and more dejected with each one, until he quickly speeds through the end of the list and is silent. An Iliad makes the story of the Trojan War real and relevant, a story of the horrors of any and all wars.

Stephen Yoakam

Stephen Yoakam is the poet Homer himself, reluctantly singing his song again, reluctant because of the death and destruction that is at the center of it. He calls to the muses for help, forgets names, skips over parts and lingers over others, stripping off his long coat, sweater, and eventually shoes and socks as he gets deeper and deeper into the tale. It's as if it physically pains and tires him to tell this story. This is a performance that's real, raw, intense, moving, and entirely captivating.

But of course, a "one-man show" is never really that. Stephen is aided by the direction of Benjamin McGovern, the set design of Michael Hoover (the focus of which is what looks like an abandoned fountain in a town square, adorned with sand, water, scaffolding, and Greek wall sculptures, for an interesting mix of modern and ancient), and the lighting of Tom Mays (it's like another character, showing us where to look, flashing with the muses, house lights increasing and decreasing at appropriate times).

Playing now through May 26 at the Guthrie Theater, An Iliad is a sobering look at war through the eyes of one man and one ancient war that doesn't feel so ancient.

"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.

"The Birds" at the Guthrie Theater

My current favorite TV show is AMC's The Walking Dead, about a small group of people trying to survive a zombie apocalypse.  I'm not a fan of zombies or horror in general, but for me the show isn't about the zombies.  It's about this group of people who have to figure out a new way to live in a world where the old rules of civilization no longer serve.  The play The Birds* (based on the original short story by Daphne du Maurier, not the 1963 Hitchcock movie) is the same way.  It's not about the birds (which are never seen, although the sound of them is frightening enough), it's about these people who are trying to survive and have some kind of a life when the world has been taken over by killer birds (crazy idea, isn't it?).  The old rules of life no longer apply; as one character says, "all bets are off."

The play begins in an old farmhouse where Diane and Nat, who met a few days ago on the road as they were trying to get away, have taken shelter.  Nat is ill and Diane nurses him back to health.  They develop a sort of rhythm of going out and scavenging for supplies between bird attacks (every six hours, based on the tides).  An injured young woman named Julie shows up on their door and they take her in, and she becomes part of their group.  They enjoy a certain friendship, but it becomes apparent that they don't really know each other very well.  Can they trust each other?  They notice a reclusive farmer across the lake, but he doesn't seem friendly so they avoid him.  One day when Nat and Julie have gone to town, the farmer visits Diane and asks her to join him so he can "take care of her."  She rejects him and he leaves.  Meanwhile, Nat and Julie have grown closer, which upsets Diane.  She's a writer who is keeping a journal, and we occasionally hear bits of her journal in voiceover, which lets us see into her thoughts a little.  Diane goes to extreme lengths to ensure survival.  What bothers me most about The Walking Dead is that in the face of a zombie apocalypse, the survivors need to band together against the zombies if the human race has any hope of surviving.  Similarly, I wanted everyone in the play to work together; it's the only way they can survive.  But as Diane says, "what's so great about the human race anyway?"  The humans still have to deal with each other, which proves to be the more difficult task.

Diane and is really the core of the story; we experience the events through her eyes.  And Angela Timberman is a wonderful grounding force as she takes us through this journey.  She's so good at both comedy (see Annie, where she stole the show as Miss Hannigan) and drama (I still remember her in Third several years ago, which is one of those plays that has stuck with me); she definitely uses her drama chops here.  J.C. Cutler, last year's Scrooge, is her equal as Nat.  Summer Hagen also give a fine performance as the seemingly sweet but can-you-really-trust-her Julie.  Last but not least, Stephen Yoakam (magnificent in last summer's Burial at Thebes) makes a short but very memorable and creepy appearance as the farmer.

This was perhaps the most detailed set I've ever seen (designed by Guthrie newbie Wilson Chin).  When I walked into the Guthrie Studio Theater, I wanted to climb right up on the stage and explore the house.  Every corner was crammed with old photos and knick-knacks, children's artwork hung on the walls of the kitchen, and the walls were faded and dingy.  It not only looks lived in, it looks as if it's been lived in for a hundred years.  The play is performed with no intermission which I think was a smart choice.  With a story this intense and close, you don't want to let the audience out to walk around and breathe, but rather keep them feeling trapped along with the characters.

The Birds is playing now through April 8.  Check it out for a good old-fashioned thrill.  You might also come out of the show thinking about just what you would do to survive in a world where killer birds or zombies (or any number of natural disasters) have reduced the world to a dangerous, scary place.

*I received two complementary tickets to attend The Birds as part of the Guthrie's "Blogger Night."  And I owe them a big thanks this time because I forgot to RSVP, but when I called the day of the show they were able to get me in.  I love the Guthrie!

"The Burial at Thebes" at the Guthrie Theater

The Burial at Thebes is a typical Greek tragedy - someone defies the will of the gods and their life falls apart as everyone they love dies.  But what's not so typical is the musical accompaniment that adds to the story.  This is a Greek chorus that actually sings!  Combined with powerful performances by the entire cast, it's a wonderful and jam-packed 90 minutes of theater.

The Burial at Thebes is a translation of Sophocles' Antigone by Irish poet Seamus Haeney.  In Greek mythology, Antigone is a daughter of Oedipus (you remember him - the one who killed his father and married his mother).  So it's fair to say her life was doomed from the start.  When her brother is killed as an enemy of the state, King Creon (her uncle) declares that his body cannot be buried in the traditional way.  Feeling that she must obey the laws of the underworld rather than the laws of the mortal world, Antigone defies the King and attempts to give her brother a proper burial, knowing that it means her own death.  Creon will not back down and insists that she be put to death.  He realizes too late that he chose wrong, and is unable to prevent the tragic events that befall everyone he loves.

This is a large and talented cast in a show with a relatively short running time, which means the audience is treated to little gems of performances throughout the play, from Brian Sostek's comic relief as the guard who delivers the news to Creon that someone has broken his decree, to Greta Oglesby as the prophet with creepy unseeing eyes and a powerful voice, to Sun Mee Chomet as the doomed heroine, to Regina Marie Williams' brief appearance as the grief-stricken mother Eurydice.  And through it all Stephen Yoakam gives a powerful leading performance as Creon, transforming from a strong, confident, unyielding ruler to a grieving and remorseful father and husband.

On top of the great acting performances, or rather intermeshed with them, is some amazing music (composed by J.D. Steele of the fabulous Steele family, with piano accompaniment by his brother Billy and percussion by Marc Anderson).  The incomparable Robert Robinson leads the Greek chorus that sings and speaks with equal melodious beauty.  Every time Robert opens his mouth it's a "lift up your hands" kind of moment; add to that the beautiful harmonies created by Lee Mark Nelson, Richard Ooms, T. Mychael Rambo, and Joe Nathan Thomas, and you have some powerful music that really heightens the emotion of the play.  An imposing set of towering walls and flowing dramatic costumes add to the overall effect.

What more can I say, it was another amazing evening of theater, music, emotion, and drama at the Guthrie Theater.

"Next Fall" at the Jungle Theater

Next Fall is one of those plays that will make you laugh, cry, and reevaluate what you think about certain issues (which happens to be my favorite kind of play!).  Directed by Joel Sass at the Jungle Theater, Next Fall tells the story of two gay men in a committed relationship whose lives change irreversibly when one of them is involved a freak tragic accident.  The play begins in the waiting room of the hospital, where Luke's friends and family have gathered as he lies unconscious in his hospital bed.  The story of Luke and Adam's relationship is told through flashbacks, which alternate with present-day scenes in the hospital.  Luke and Adam love each other and have made a life together, despite very different worldviews.  Luke is a devout Christian who believes in heaven and hell, while Adam is an atheist who can't understand how Luke can continue to believe despite what his faith has to say about homosexuality.  Somehow Luke is able to reconcile that contradiction, something his Christian friend Brandon can't accept.  But both Adam and Brandon start to rethink their opposing positions when faced with the possible loss of someone important to them.

Luke's southern Christian parents are also there in the waiting room, and neither one knows that Luke is gay and living with Adam.  Luke has always been afraid to tell them, despite Adam's urging to do so.  When it comes time for decisions to be made about Luke's care, his parents are legally responsible, and Adam has no say.  When Adam's relationship with Luke comes to light, there are some tense moments, but in the end, they realize that they all love Luke, and begin to listen to and comfort each other.

OK that sounds really depressing, but there are also quite a few humorous moments as we watch Luke and Adam's relationship unfold through flashbacks.  And Luke's eccentric mother (Maggie Bearmon Pistner) provides many humorous moments as she interacts with the others in the waiting room.  It's a "laugh through your pain" kind of show.

Garry Geiken (whom I saw recently in Latte Da's Song of Extinction) gives a funny and heart-breaking performance as Adam, and Neal Skoy (in his Twin Cities professional stage debut) is quite charming as Luke.  Stephen Yoakam (who was recently named best actor by City Pages for his performance in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf at the Jungle last year) allows Luke's father's deep feelings for his son to peek through his tough exterior, and has a wonderfully subtle and believable accent.

Luke is an actor, and his family and friends keep talking about his performance in the play Our Town a few years ago (which fortunately I saw recently at Yellow Tree, so I understood the reference).  The theme of Our Town is that people don't usually appreciate life to its fullest until it's over.  Next Fall has a similar theme.  It's a play about loss and regret, but also about love and togetherness and living the life you want to live.


*A note to my fellow theater-goers.  Please make sure to turn off your cell phone when you enter the theater.  And then double-check to make sure it's off.  And if you don't know how to turn off your cell phone, don't bring it into the theater!  At a crucial moment during the play, someone's cell phone went off, which totally took me out of the moment.  It was very distracting and disappointing.  I wanted to reach for my remote and rewind a few minutes and watch that scene again!  So please, friends, make sure your phones are off!  Thank you.