St. Louis Eats and Drinks

Brunch: Scape

Absolutely delicious: Here's brunch at Scape.

Stiff

Whatever you do, don’t think Stiff is about someone who’s awkwardly formal in their dealings with other people.

Even the full title of the regional premiere from Inevitable Theatre Company is Stiff: A Fast-Paced Comedy About Moving Slow doesn’t really do it justice. There are indeed many laughs in the one-woman show which is not so much a play as it is performance art by its creator Sherry Jo Ward. But its story is far more significant than a desire to evoke laughter.

Ward has Stiff Person Syndrome. That’s an actual diagnosis, one that falls into the category of rare diseases. It’s an autoimmune condition, one in which an immune system attacks its host, the person whose body it is. Multiple sclerosis, for instance, is an autoimmune condition.

This is the point where I have to stand up and point out that I am unable to view this totally through a critic’s lens. For those who don’t know, I’m an RN with thirty years’ experience in hospitals. My license is now officially inactive, but one never does really stop being a nurse. I will probably never be able not to think like a nurse.

This is a work about disability. It’s casual – when we walk in, Ward is in a large, soft easy chair with an ottoman, her walker nearby. She’s talking, joking with audience members and with Robert Neblett, the group’s artistic director. Ward was acting long before she was diagnosed and tells the story of how it happened and how she realized she had become part of a minority community.

But there are no violins in this story. It’s tough stuff along with the humor. Mom always said not to stare, right? The public has been trained to look away from the disabled. Here, we’re not only allowed to look and absorb this differentness without anyone giving us the fish eye, we can do so to share, to understand the experience more. She weaves this tale, rather than telling it, back and forth, using, of all things, Power Point to help. She talks about how her condition began, and demonstrates one of her physical therapy exercises in making a point for those who might say she doesn’t look very disabled, for instance And she makes some very cogent points about pain, that unseen factor that becomes a glass wall between the person in pain and the rest of the world.

Ward, if she isn’t a rowdy woman surely plays one onstage very well indeed. This is not a G-rated show, although by theatre standards, it’s fairly mild. What she’s giving us is the chance to share the experience and to begin to become comfortable with disability in others. I have a long-time friend who’s blind. Watching him carefully and with deliberation putting new acquaintances at ease is like watching an artist at work. Ward is doing the same thing on a wider scale. Her storytelling is done with seeming ease despite her physical effort. It’s often a pleasure to watch, and when it isn’t pleasurable, it’s still engrossing.

This is a fascinating and important piece of theatre experience. It’s most important for people who are uncomfortable with the subject matter, but it works on all kinds of levels. And for those who are or were in health care, it’s doubly interesting. You’ll learn something.

No intermission, runs about 65 minutes. Be aware that curtain times for all shows – some of which are signed in ASL, and one of which has an audio description for the visually impaired – are after the curtain rises at the Fox, which means that parking will be tricky. Just plan ahead. But go.

 

Stiff

through April 1, 2018

Inevitable Theatre Company

Kranzberg Arts Center

North Grand at Olive

www.inevitabletheatre.org

Born Yesterday

"I want everyone to be smart. As smart as they can be. A world of ignorant people is too dangerous to live in."

That’s a serious quote to start a review of a comedy. Born Yesterday, the last show of the season at Repertory Theatre of St. Louis, is now on the Mainstage. It’s a play that manages to mesh elements of screwball comedy and political comedy. The 1946 script is from the gifted pen of the late Garson Kanin; Kanin freely acknowledged the influence of Frank Capra, he of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington and such.

Like most of us, parts of the story have aged well and parts haven’t. But the essence of it is a delight, and so are a great many of the details. If you are only familiar with the Judy Holliday-Broderick Crawford film (for which Holliday won an Oscar), this is a slightly bawdier version. Hollywood censorship was flourishing in 1950 when the film was made. No, return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear when the word “broad” could be used in front of a live audience.

A businessman who’s made a mint in scrap during the recently ended World War II has come to Washington to do some business. He’s one of those self-made men with plenty of rough edges, and his girlfriend, a former chorus girl whom he keeps in plenty of style, is equally unpolished. He’s brought her along on the trip. His attorney, once an assistant Attorney General of the United States, has arrived before them and is preparing a meeting with a certain senator. It seems there’s some legislation that would greatly benefit the scrap business.

Billie Dawn, the girlfriend, is clearly accustomed to signing whatever Harry, the scrap dealer, and Ed, the lawyer, put in front of her. She looks great, they both agree, but the attorney points out that she’s not really ready for prime time when it comes to mingling with the Washington Establishment – not, to be honest, that Harry is, either, expensive suits and cigars notwithstanding, but who tells their client that? But how to smooth those rough edges? A young, eager magazine writer who’s just interviewed Harry, or at least tried to, might be purchased to do the job, they think. And so Paul is persuaded to join the merry band.

Harry is just not a very nice man, despite admitting to his attorney that he’s brought Billie along “because I’m crazy about that broad”. He does not yell for her, he bellows. He demeans her. And we see that he is capable of physical violence in a scene very early in the play – not with Billie, but nevertheless….

The ex-chorine is quite taken with the bespectacled writer. On some level she seems to understand that he’s an ally against the power structure in the quasi-household. They begin – although it’s hard to imagine starting this kiddo on authors like Alexander Pope, Thomas Paine and Robert Ingersoll. Long before the phrase about raising one’s consciousness came into popular use, that’s what is happening here. Billie discovers that signing those papers has given her some power over Harry. Harry has been working the political system in ways that are, let us say, not unfamiliar to contemporary America. Sort of like the rough-edged powerful guy might seem vaguely familiar, you know? The quote above is from Billie as she begins to stand up to Harry.

Billie is Ruth Pferdehirt, delightfully gifted at the facial expressions and delivery of lines for her character as she gets woke. The gin rummy scene is a classic – it’s hard to take one’s eyes away from her then. Andy Prosky’s Harry is not quite larger than life, but close, and certainly in Harry’s own mind he is. One doubts that he is truly “crazy about that broad” except for the fact that sometimes he tolerates her shouting back at him. Ted Deasy is Ed, the attorney, his slowly increasing blood alcohol perhaps helping anesthetize his guilt, a nicely subtle performance. Paul, the writer, Aaron Bartz, shows his increasing attraction to Billie very well, with the restraint typical of the mid-century mores. Eddie, Harry’s long-suffering general factotum, Randy Donaldson, is as much the object of Harry’s bellowing and complaints as Billie, and bears it manfully.

Pamela Hunt directed, using the script’s teaching moments to good effect, and pulls the strong cast together well. The beautiful hotel suite (amusing that there’s two bedrooms) is from James Morgan, the scenic designer, with Mary Jo Dondlinger’s lighting design. Lou Bird must have had some fun with these costumes as Billie gets more elegant as her grammar improves and her vocabulary increases.

Illegally fun. So to speak.

 

Born Yesterday

through April 8

Mainstage

Repertory Theatre St. Louis

Loretto-Hilton Center for the Performing Arts

130 Edgar Rd., Webster Groves

repstl.org

As It Is In Heaven

As It Is In Heaven isn’t quite a Shaker musical, although there’s plenty of music and even dance in it. It’s a fascinating story of women in a Shaker community in 1840’s Kentucky. The Shakers were a religious community of both men and women, segregated by gender, founded by Mother Ann Lee. Lee believed in both song and dance as spiritual practices, so they’re an integral part of this drama.

These women living in community are headed up by Sister Hannah, Amy Loui, whose seconds in leadership – one chooses not to use the word “command” - are sisters Betsy, Alicia Reve Like, and Phebe, Mary Snitzler. Six sisters, three young ones and three who’ve obviously been there for a while, complete the group.

It’s very difficult to talk about which performances stand out, because this is excellent ensemble work. Laurie McConnell is Sister Peggy, and she leads the singing and dancing, which is very casual and imperfect the way you’d expect it to be, especially considering the shoes of the era. Leslie Wobbe’s Sister Rachel was once a Methodist, she points out, calmer and stalwart. Sister Polly, Amanda Wales, has what seems to be a smoldering anger.

Among the newer sisters who haven’t signed their covenant yet, rather like final vows, is Sister Jane, Jenelle Gilreath, who cries every night once the lights are out and seems rather strange. Then there’s Christina Sittser, Sister Izzy, very young and impulsive and perhaps a little challenged intellectually. Sister Fanny, Patrice Foster, is grateful to be in the community, a hard worker, but she goes off by herself, beyond the meadow, every so often.

All the actors do yeoman work, albeit of very different kinds. The play, by Arlene Hutton, is a fascinating picture of group dynamics, the ebb and flow of humanness. Cameron Tesson’s set feels appropriately Shaker simple, accented by Bess Moynihan’s lights. Jane Sullivan designed the costumes. It’s all pulled together in splendid fashion by Mustard Seed’s artistic director Deanna Jent.

If you’re coming for the first time, the entrance to the parking lot is actually on Big Bend Boulevard; the theater is in the building on the south side of the lot.

One act, no intermission, and fascinating. Go.

 

As It Is In Heaven

through March 31

Mustard Seed Theatre

6800 Wydown Boulevard at Big Bend

719-8060

www.mustardseedtheatre.com

Brunch: Hendel's

It's a pilgrimage, or at least a road trip, for some of us to go up to Florissant. But the trip to Hendel's can be a good way to spend a Sunday midday. An interesting combination of busy - or at least popular - and relaxed, the brunch is very worthwhile. They don't take reservations for fewer than six people, but it's big enough that tables turn quickly. And it starts earlier than a number of spots around town, so that gives it an edge, too. Go investigate. 

Caught

Here’s another chance for the reviewer to use that classic Monty Python title, “And Now for Something Completely Different”. Lately, it feels like those opportunities are coming up at least twice a year. But the current production, Caught, at the Rep Studio qualifies beyond any possible doubt.

The first clue is that entering the theatre, one is not given a program, but rather a piece of paper talking about a hybrid theatre/art installation that has been put in front of the stage. Paintings, a screen for film – yes, it does seem to be an art gallery. Seth Gordon, who’s the director, steps up to a podium, runs through the usual pre-show rituals about cell phones and so on, and then introduces us to the artist, who’s originally from China. He’s played by Kenneth Lee.

And we’re off. The next scene switches to the office of The New Yorker, a conference with the artist and New Yorker editorial personnel, played by Rachel Fenton and Jeffrey Cummings. Then follows a conversation with the playwright, who’s played by Rachel Lin. Wait. The writer of the show is played by an actor? Yes. And this is where we realize things are getting seriously strange. The fourth wall, that convention that says actors pretend the audience isn’t there, is a heap of construction dust by now.

For this show, the Rep asks critics not to use any spoilers. I’m willing to respect that. Reading the above, it should be obvious that describing Caught without spoilers is rather difficult if the idea is to, among other things, encourage the audience to see the play.

It is, to be sure, extremely interesting, giving us all kinds of questions to puzzle as the evening passes. Lee does a fine job with the twists of the evening. Fenton reminded me of a tennis player, hitting shots from all over the court, never landing a ball out of bounds and seldom slamming into the net. Cummings does a certain amount of scenery-chewing, but that’s obviously a directorial choice, and he carries it off well. Lin, on the other hand, is pretty subtle, with a hard-to-read character at all points.

The script, to continue the tennis simile, makes some spectacular shots and misses a couple of groaners. It’s delightful to hear the skewering of the long-winded navel gazing that can occur in Serious Conversations about Art – but a shorter skewer would have been just as effective with this particular dish. The last scene also would have benefited from some tightening. The actual playwright, not the one onstage, is Christopher Chen.

Robert Mark Morgan is the scenic designer, with work from installation artist Albert Yowshien Kuo. Their work merges very well indeed, even in the small venue of the Studio. Rusty Wandall’s sound is subtle but effective; Ann G. Wrightson is the lighting designer.

 

I’m still pondering why Cummings was on Fenton’s office floor so long, but it’s only one of the things to think about in Caught. No intermission. If you go with friends, plan on stopping somewhere to hash things out.

 

Caught

through March 25

Studio Theatre

Repertory Theatre St. Louis

Loretto-Hilton Center for the Performing Arts

130 Edgar Rd., Webster Groves

 

Anything Goes

Anything Goes comes from the era when musicals were musical comedies, and the music was the important thing. Stories were just something to bridge the gap from one song to the next. Admittedly, there were some madcap romps that came from this era – and Anything Goes certainly is one – but holes in the plot lines were not anything to worry about.

So please don’t worry about any gaps in the story at New Line’s latest production of this Cole Porter feast. Just sit back and enjoy the music.

There are several versions of the 1934 show as it’s been updated over the years – in fact, it was updated before it even opened. It was supposed to take place on a luxury liner where a bomb goes off. Then there was a fire on a passenger ship, the S.S. Moro Castle. More than 130 people died, and it was decided that in the interests of good taste (Remember that? Anyone?) they would remove the disaster as the premise of the show. (And does this sound too familiar these days?)

This version takes place totally on the ship, with fewer than average crew and passengers. But the great Cole Porter music is front and center, and that’s the most important thing. Porter used words almost as well as he used music, but the lyrics are still fun. The time is rapidly approaching when hardly anyone alive will understand most of the references here, which often refer to events around the time of its creation. (New Line artistic director Scott Miller decided to actually create a glossary of the things that might be unrecognizable and post it on his blog.)

Still, there are some great word plays like “tinpantithesis”. Music, though, doesn’t become dated so easily and these are glorious tunes.

Directors Scott Miller and Mike Dowdy-Windsor make sure that everyone has a good time in this very broad comedy whose social implications – lionizing people who are criminals, religious hypocrisy – are easily relatable in today’s world. Club owner and former evangelist Reno Sweeney is Sarah Porter, who belts much of the score (originally performed by Ethel Merman) with aplomb, although seems a little less steady on one ballad. Billy Crocker, a young broker who stows away for love, brought to us by Evan Fornachon, is believable, clearly smitten with Eileen Engel as Hope Harcourt, a debutante who’s on board, too. Engel in particular sounds great. She’s already engaged to the aristocrat Sir Evelyn Oakley. He’s Zachary Allen Farmer, in a very different role for him but great fun to watch. Mother Harcourt, Kimmie Kidd-Booker, gives zest and appropriate outrage to the would-be-mother-in-law without making us smell the mothballs of stuffiness. Aaron Allen and Sarah Gene Dowling are a couple of criminals on the lam, Allen having a great time with his song “Be Like the Bluebird”. As I listened to the title song and watched Dowling, I was suddenly reminded a little of the late Charlotte Peters, whose theme song it was on her noontime television show in the Fifties. And it’s fun watching Jeffrey Wright, who’s Elisha Whitney, Billy’s boss. Wright looks the very model of a television sitcom actor of the Fifties, and handles the considerable physical comedy very well.

Nicolas Valdez is the music director, and choreography comes from Michelle Sauer and Sara Rae Womack, two of the four Angels that are Reno’s chorus girls – the others are Larissa White and Alyssa Wolf. Colene Fornachon is responsible for the costumes, several of which are downright covetable.

All in all, maybe it’s not perfect, but it surely is a great deal of fun, especially if you have the least bit of romantic in you. And pay attention to the Marx Brothers reference. (Actually, there are two.)

Anything Goes

through March 24

New Line Theatre

Marcelle Theatre

3310 Samuel Shephard Drive

www.newlinetheatre.com

Just a Local Quirk? Not!

Fish fries in Lent? Of course. They've even spread to areas outside St. Louis that have proportionately fewer Catholics than the metropolitan area. But are they just a St. Louis thing? Well, no. Just liike the question, "Where did you go to high school?", they pop up in New Orleans as well. And probably other places, of course, but the list published in The Times-Picayune is just too fascinating to pass up. 

You can read about it here, and the link is in there.