St. Louis Eats and Drinks

I Now Pronounce

He’s just sort of stunned. She’s a bridezilla. Expect very little optimism from a comedy about a wedding. Then you’ll be all set for I Now Pronounce, the comedy now at the New Jewish Theatre. Ed Coffield, NJT’s artistic director and a guy with an active sense of humor of his own, has directed this Tasha Gordon-Solomon play that starts out with a coughing codger of a rabbi and goes on from there.

It’s not funny to deal with people who know weddings are not as important as the marriages they begin, people who don’t bicker and demand and freak out. Fortunately, none of those folks are onstage here. Instead we have the aforementioned groom (Graham Emmons) whose groomsmen (Ryan Lawson-Maeske and Will Bonfiglio) are offering to help him escape instead of going back into the reception. The bride (Jessica Kadish) is locked in the restroom crying and shrieking because the rabbi has ruined her wedding by dying mid-ceremony. Her bridesmaids (Frankie Ferrari and Delaney Piggins) aren’t having much luck cajoling her out, although Piggins’ character is somewhat distracted by the cute EMT she’s given her phone number to as he carted the rabbi off.

Things get rough at several points, include the bride lighting into the groom with razor-sharp words that make audience members gasp (and one mutter, “Get out now, pal”). A speech by Bonfiglio is so deeply cynical as well as nasty that it, too, sears us. Ferrari seems to be the always-a-bridesmaid-and-never-a-bride character (once upon a time, kids, that was a phrase used in advertising) and Lawson-Maeske is separated from his wife. Temporarily. He thinks. Or not.

The script is not just bouncing from laugh to laugh. There’s some serious struggles going on here, and we’re seeing fine work from these folks. However, let me cite the immortal W.C. Fields, who warned other performers never to work with animals or children. We have three young women here, the flower girls. Lydia Mae Foss, Abby Goldstein and Millie Eidelman, and they are splendid. They skitter through scene after scene worrying about ghosts as well as grownups, nailing lines, dancing with the rest of the cast, and generally being irresistible. They don’t steal the show, but it’s good they’re mostly onstage when everyone else is not. Particular kudos to Coffield for managing this group so well. Eidelman in particular does her shrieking in fine style.

David Blale was the scenic designer, Tony Anselmo designed the lights, and Amanda Werre the sound, all of which are well-coordinated.

Despite the flower girls, the language onstage means this is more of a production for adults, so be forewarned. And the program is wrong; this is a 100-minute no-intermission production.

 

I Now Pronounce

through June 2

The New Jewish Theatre

Marvin & Harlene Wool Studio Theatre

Arts & Education Building

Jewish Community Center

2 Millstone Campus Drive

Website

Nina Simone: Four Women

Once again because of a show in town, it seems like a good time to recount some too-recent history. On September 15, 1963, in the midst of the civil rights movement, which was particularly active in Birmingham, AL, a bomb went off at the 16^th Street Baptist Church. It was during Sunday school hours. Four little girls, ranging in age from 11 to 14, were killed. The church, badly damaged, had been very involved in the movement and was the starting point for many of its marches.

Nina Simone, a popular singer and pianist, became deeply involved in the movement. Nina Simone: Four Women puts her in Birmingham in the immediate aftermath of the bombing as she’s writing a song about the struggles. She’s in the ruins of the church composing. One at a time, three other women come in.

Leah Stuart is Nina Simone, strong and angry and not disposed to put up with interference. Sarah, whose name we don’t learn until late in the show, is a maid. Denice Thimes moves like a woman of some age, maybe a little arthritis in the knees and hips, guarding her dignity and puzzled about Simone’s whole slowly revealed story. Alex Jay is Sephronia, a teacher, who fairly quickly recognizes the woman trying to compose, and wants her out marching as well as writing songs about it. Then Sweet Thing – and that probably isn’t her real name, either, but we’ll never know – sweeps in, all cleavage and a pair of turquoise blue spike heels. Played by Camile Sharp, she’s not much interested in the movement, just having a white-hot talk with Sephronia and laying verbal waste to the others who protest her overall attitude.

Through all this, there’s talk about the movement, the violence, Dr. King and the four young lives that have been lost. “They say,” signs Sarah, “you can hear them crying sometimes.” As to violence, well, there was a reason the city was called “Bombingham” for a while.

Director Ron Himes pulls great performances from all the cast. Charles Creath, the musical director, who’s on the piano Simone is using as a desk, is a guy one could listen to all night under most any circumstances. Much of the music is what Simone co-write. Scenic design from Tim Jones is deeply evocative.

One wishes the script were a little better. The aura of magical realism works well, but there’s so much exposition, one wonders if it were intended at one point for young audiences, not that there’s anything wrong with that. Still, we’ve got some fine work here from the whole cast and crew. And there is the deeply still-relevant line from the script:

We all have a lot to learn.

 

Nina Simone: Four Women

through June 2

The Black Rep

Edison Theatre

Washington University in St. Louis

www.theblackrep.org

 

Come from Away

It’s coming on to eighteen years since the awful events of 9/11. There’s a whole generation now that doesn’t remember the actual day or has only a cursory knowledge of what happened. There was so much going on and so much not going on that it’s easy to overlook one of the largest of the small good stories that came out of the horror.

Flights coming into the US from foreign destinations were diverted and American airspace was shut down. Canada took all the flights coming in from Europe if they were past the point of no return, i.e, didn’t have enough fuel to return to the continent. The little town of Gander, whose airport had been, among other things, a serious departure point for aircraft during WW II, and who was closest to northern Europe, received 38 planes. The people of Gander, population of around 10,000, fed and housed 6,700 passengers and crew from all over the world until they were able to resume their journeys on September 14.

Come from Away is the story of that experience. There aren’t any words to describe it that haven’t been used and seemingly overused. It is, indeed, a picture of the milk of human kindness writ large, of how on short notice a small town on an island pulled together a humanitarian mission and carry it off with warmth and grace. Book, music and lyrics are by Irene Sankoff and David Hein.

I went into this with a certain degree of skepticism, expecting saccharine sweetness and rainbows. Nope. Cast your cynicism aside and be swept away by a story of ordinary people rising to a challenge – on both sides of this story. It opens on the ordinary Tuesday morning everyone talks about with the mayor of Gander meeting his pals and other constituents in the Tim Horton’s in town. The school bus drivers are on strike, and negotiations aren’t going well. And then the policeman rushes in and says, “Turn on the television.”

When will these passengers be told what’s happened? How long before they’re allowed off the plane? Immigration control still has to be observed. Hand baggage only, a good reminder not to put essentials like medication in checked luggage. Are there animals on the plane? How many public places can be used as shelters? How can guests be transported to shelters? How many telephones can we provide for them? There’s a particularly delightful brief number when the toilets at an elementary school/shelter need to be cleaned and a group of men, allegedly cardiologists, in lab coats and gloves present themselves when no one else volunteers.

A cast of 12 handles passengers, crew and townspeople, and somehow manage to keep almost everything clearly defined, although they’re not so much defined by name as by roles, the mayor, the captain, the oil company employee and so on. The music, some of which is clearly Celtic in style, very characteristic of Newfoundland – who knew? - is often charming with Irish flutes, a harmonium, and a bouzouki (not so Celtic there...), among other things. The musical staging from Kelly Devine, including choreography with chairs on the stage’s turntable, works very well. Beowulf Boritt’s set is one of those less-minimal-than-it-seems things that’s quite beautiful, and the lights from Howell Binkley add to the aura. Sound design in the Fox is always a balancing act, and in the opening number it was hard to hear the lyrics because of a thudding bass. Things improved some after that.

It’s not a perfect show. About 100 minutes without intermission compresses things, and leaves characters sometimes shortchanged and sometimes somewhat stereotyped. Some of the score is deeply unremarkable and little of it will survive independently.

But it’s a great story, carefully told and well put together by director Christopher Ashley.

 

Come from Away

through May 26

Fox Theatre

527 N. Grand

www.fabulousfox.com

Dear Mr. Williams

For those who are suckers for storytelling, let me warn them that Dear Mr. Williams ran only over the weekend just past. The Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis brought in Bryan Batt, who created the piece and performs it, for three shows. Batt, of course, is an actor who has had a SAG Award for “Mad Men” and several encounters with the Drama Desk Awards.

The show is a cabaret act without music, and that’s no insult. Batt weaves his personal story with quotes from Williams, the way a singer might tell stories and then fall into some fine Gershwin song. Batt’s a native New Orleanean, a real yat, from the sort of family has for generations participated in Mardi Gras balls and cotillions. He was, he says, always a kid interested in beautiful things, thanks to his mother. He discovered theater and Tennessee Williams in high school, and found that Williams loved New Orleans. And then, slowly, he recognized what he was seeing in Williams was what he was seeing in himself.

Batt’s a fine storyteller, giving us tales of the New Orleans we know and the New Orleans we may not know, family stories and insider glimpses of his world growing up. The Williams quotes fit in smoothly, wise and deep. We even end up with stories about Helen Hayes.

If the show’s come and gone, why am I talking about it now? Because this is the sort of thing the festival does well, finding these smaller, offbeat things that are related, the sort of events that are worth taking a chance on. Dear Mr. Williams certainly was.

 

Dear Mr. Williams

Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis

twstl.org/

A Lovely Sunday in Creve Coeur

It’s not often that one thinks of Tennessee Williams as having a light hand at drawing the human condition. But it surely shows in A Lovely Sunday for Creve Coeur.

It’s a Sunday morning in June, the sun is up, a pigeon coos outside the window of a small apartment in St. Louis. Dorothea (Maggie Wininger) is a single woman, a teacher at nearby Blewett School, which was, at the time of the play, a high school on Enright Avenue, just off Union. She shares the apartment with Bodey (Kelley Weber), an older woman who works at International Shoe. Dorothea’s waiting for a phone call from the man she’s dating, who’s her principal at the school. Bodey’s frying chicken. She’s putting together an outing to Creve Coeur Park, then the terminus of a trolley that ran down Delmar, through Overland and out to Creve Coeur Lake. She still hopes that Dorothea and her portly brother will hit it off, an idea Dorothea has repeatedly nixed in favor of the principal, who’s so fancy he drives a REO Flying Cloud.

The two women are very different. Dorothea, who’s moved from Memphis, is very conscious of her appearance and is very focused on having a husband and family. Bodey is a bustling hausfraulein who knows she’ll probably never marry but focuses on the pleasures of right now – and of getting her brother settled, despite his cigars and rumpled appearance. Two guests arrive. One is another tenant, Miss Gluck (Ellie Schwetye), for her daily coffee and consolation over the recent death of her mother. The other is the icily magnificent Helena (Julie Layton), an art history teacher at Blewett, who’s very mysterious about the reasons for her unexpected call.

Kari Ely directed this surprising piece of fun with its rapid-fire dialogue, some of which is exceedingly amusing. It takes place in Ali Strelchun’s wonderful set, all light and color. Watching the actors come up the center aisle upstairs at the Grandel, where it’s staged, is a nice preview of what’s to come, Weber’s Bodey a masterpiece of bustling, for instance.

Some discussion of Dorothea in recent years has the character a faded Southern belle, in the style of some other Williams women, but Wininger looks and acts younger. Maybe we don’t regard a teacher in perhaps her mid to late 20’s as aging, but things have changed since the mid-Thirties when the play is set. Wininger is more dazzled and determined than desperate, which works very well. Weber’s Bodey has a warm, kind heart that tries to protect her roommate and settle her into the sort of domesticity that she always wanted for herself. Only a remarkable performance by Julie Layton can hold up to the magnificence of her hat, the product of Garth Dunbar, the costume designer. And Ellie Schwetye is a sobbing black stork, only occasionally breaking into heavily accented English.

Not among the greatest of Williams’ works, certainly, but how fun to see him at play!

 

A Lovely Sunday for Creve Coeur

through May 19

Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis

Grandel Theatre

https://www.twstl.org/

Death Tax

You know those people who announce they didn’t like a play or a movie because,\ the uniforms of the soldiers didn’t have the right patches for whatever unit and time frame was involved? Or the style of fork in a banquet scene hadn’t come into use for another 70 years? Seems unfair to trash all that artistic effort just because a costuming error noticeable to perhaps 1% of the audience or the wrong forks because a small theater company needed to use what they had. But there are folks for whom that detail can ruin an evening.

Having worked as an RN for umpty-ump years, I have my list of Things, too. Every medical series on television except MASH I left quickly or never started. So plays about that sort of thing I admit to casting a particularly careful eye on. The good ones, though, work well despite some problems with details, and that’s how it is with Death Tax. It’s from the pen of Lucas Hnath, who wrote, among other plays, A Doll’s House, Part 2, which the Rep did in 2018, and the current Broadway offering Hilary and Clinton. This is a guy who knows his way around a keyboard.

It’s a nursing home where Maxine (Kim Furlow) is a long-time patient and Tina (Jeanitta Perkins) is her nurse. Maxine is old and cranky and has some unnamed serious illness. “I know I’m going to die,” she announces. It’s not so much the dying that she’s concerned about, it’s her estate. Estate taxes will go up after the first of the current year, she explains to Nurse Tina, and she wants to stay alive until after the taxes go up, so her daughter (Kristen Strom) won’t get nearly as much as she would if Maxine died before New Year’s Day. (Dysfunctional R Us.) Maxine thinks the nurse is being paid by the daughter to knock her off before then. Maxine offers a solution to the problem, and Tina agrees.

Todd (Reginald Pierre) is perhaps a nursing supervisor, certainly Tina’s superior. He calls her into his office because he’s been given sort-of proof of Tina’s unethical behavior with Maxine. But he’s been dating Tina and is clearly quite smitten with her; alas, his affection is not returned in equal portion.

Somewhere in here it begins to dawn on us that this is moving away from reality. There are various signs, but the biggest one is why doesn’t Maxine just call her lawyer and change her will to benefit some charity? There’s more sticky stuff beyond nurses accepting bribes, interoffice (internursing station?) romance between unequals, and paying off physicians. But it hangs on the edge of reality so well that it all works.

Furlow does crotchety wonderfully, bringing us up to the edge of wanting to smack her but not quiiiiiite there. Perkins’ Tina is a nicely slow reveal until hormones raise their eager head; she’s great to watch and then does a second turn as a social worker in the last part of the show. Pierre’s meltdown is wondrous to watch, and he, too, has a second part as Maxine’s grandson. When we finally get to meet the daughter, whose story is, not surprisingly, rather different than Maxine’s version in this game of Who Do You Trust, Strom gives a shakily on-target rendition, which furthers our questions.

The unusual set from Jamie Perkins works extremely well, with lights from Michael Sullivan and sound by Zoe Sullivan. Bess Moynihan pulled it all together in fine fashion and it’s a remarkably interesting evening.

That said, here comes the nurse’s rant. And it’s aimed at every group that’s used a hospital bed in a set, so Mustard Seed folks, all you did was remind me.

Theatrical convention – and that includes television and all the soap operas in particular – seems to dictate that hospital beds never have the siderails up. That’s wrong. For all but the most physically able patients, at least one would be up, at least. They give patients something to hold onto and help themselves turn in the relatively-narrow beds and their mattresses which range from hard and slippery to deep and squooshy. And the sicker the patient is, the more apt the rails are to be up.

Thank you, end of rant!

 

Death Tax

through May 19

Mustard Seed Theatre

6800 Wydown Blvd, Clayton (enter off Big Bend)

314-719-8060

www.mustardseedtheatre.com

The Night of the Iguana

The Night of the Iguana kicks off this year’s Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis, and it’s a hot time in the old town. Taken from a short story which evolved into the play and then a film, it’s one of the classic Williams pieces, full of steam and drama.

A seedy hotel in the rain forests of Mexico, a point between feverish daze and reality carefully created by Dunsi Da, is the setting. It’s owned and run by Maxine Faulk, a bawdy, strong-willed woman whose older husband has recently died. She’s employed a couple of young men who have worked as cliff divers at other hotels, barking orders and utilizing them in other ways, not all of which are seen onstage. Climbing up the steep hill to the hotel is a returning guest, the Reverend Mr. Lawrence Shannon, who’s unexpectedly brought a busload of Baptist ladies who comprise a group tour he’s leading.

Shannon has more than a busload of problems. He’s a binge alcoholic and has a taste for very young women. The group is unhappy with pretty much everything he’s done on the tour, from food to no sightseeing. The crowning touch is his overappreciation of a 16-year-old on the tour.

Maxine doesn’t want the Baptist ladies, who are still in the bus, and the ladies don’t want to stay there, but Shannon is in the middle of what could charitably be called an(other) existential crisis, dodging both the group leader and the little sweetie who still has the hots for him. To add fuel, Maxine certainly would like for Shannon to stay. Then two more unexpected guests arrive, a middle-aged woman and her very elderly grandfather, both itinerant artists.

It’s a show packed with great work. James Andrew Butz, (the actor formerly known as Jim Butz) gives Shannon desperation and wildness, falling into self-contemplation and then completely losing it, a tooth-rattling performance. The crowning touch is his mastery of the mid-stage hammock, hammocks being nice to look at but the very devil to manage gracefully. Maxine, the hotel owner, comes to us via Lavonne Byers in a performance that could have been played far more widely. But that would have given us a caricature of character. Instead we see a long look or a raised eyebrow instead of a more salacious move. It makes the audience look more closely.

New to St. Louis is Nisi Sturgis as Hannah, the sketch artist-granddaughter. The family is from Nantucket, and Hannah is a self-contained New Englander. Nevertheless she eyes Shannon with restrained curiosity and kindness, enough that Maxine senses a challenge to her play for him. Sturgis’ Hannah is half-ethereal, reality-based but still, somehow, almost floating. Hannah’s grandfather is played by Harry Weber, perhaps better known to St. Louis as a sculptor.( Ironically, the bust of Tennessee Williams at Euclid and McPherson is Weber’s work. He’s swell as the aged grandfather, a poet trying to create his swan song.)

Williams’ plays, like Woody Allen’s movies, always have a character that is at least partly identifiably Williams. Here it’s Shannon, but in another sense, it’s part of Hannah, as well, a different side of Williams, the calm and almost loving talking to the nearly-out-of-control.

Tim Ocel directed, clearly using a clear vision of what this ought to be, and he’s delivered in spades. Jon Ontiveros’ lighting is a key, and so is Ellie Schwetye’s sound. It’s been a while since the play was done in St. Louis, and it’s something theatre-goers ought to flock to.

 

The Night of the Iguana

through May 19

Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis

Grandel Theatre

https://www.twstl.org/

 

Salt, Root, and Roe

Growing old is not for sissies: That saying and its variants have been around for several generations, so long there’s no good attribution for it. Like many such lines, it’s remained evergreen because it’s pretty much true. And if anyone forgets, there’s Salt, Root, and Roe to remind them.

Upstream Theater brings us the American premiere of this play by Tim Price. It’s a co-production with Stages Repertory Theatre Houston. We’re offered a family living in Pembrokeshire, on the west coast of Wales, as the eldest generation is aging. “Aging in place” is the current description; certainly there are enough home-care options in the British health care system that it’s easier almost anywhere in that country than it is in the U.S. without paying for it oneself.

Twin sisters Iola (Donna Weinsting) and Anest (Sally Edmundson) live together as Iola is slipping into dementia. It’s not just “good days” and “bad days”, just as it happens in real life. Things can shift very quickly. They’re as close as one expects twins to be. Indeed, in the opening scene, they are frolicking in a puddle of green light both holding a rope, and the image of twins in utero with a shared umbilical cord is inescapable. But in their home, Anest’s daughter Menna (Amy Loui) has discovered neither sister is there. She apparently has just arrived, her visit caused by a letter from Iola that has frightened her. She has no idea where they are and is near-hysterical, despite the efforts of the constable Gareth (Eric Dean White), who she’s known for years, to calm her.

It looks as though they’re moving – there are boxes everywhere, and we discover that much of the furniture has been taken away. There’s a vague mention of a facility of some sort, since Iola has refused to allow any of the carers from “the Council”, i.e., people who come in to assist with housekeeping and personal hygiene under the National Health scheme, to visit. Menna wants to return to this place where she grew up and take care of them, and is adamant that they do something rather than doddle along as they have been, especially when she discovers that recently Iola hit Anest with a fireplace poker. That, of course, is a pretty reasonable response to what she’s finding at her mother’s home. Nevertheless, make no mistake: Menna is not in such great shape herself. She’s angry, impulsive, and compulsive, wearing latex gloves, scrubbing floors, and slowly revealing the bones of her marriage.

It turns out that Iola, in her lucid moments, has decided she’s had enough of this and wants to end it all. That’s what was in the letter. Anest understands. Menna doesn’t.

The picture of life with dementia is graphically accurate, and Weinstock is excellent, slipping in and out of rationality. It’s a demanding role and she nails it. As the supportive sister, Edmundson leans more toward Iola than to her daughter Menna, probably not surprising since she’s now Iona’s caregiver, not Menna’s. It’s a performance of restrained emotion except when the sisters are interacting. The sisters often seem to lapse into speaking Welsh, although it’s easy to think perhaps it’s one of the twin languages one hears about. The foreign tongue doesn’t seem to impair our understanding, although for a while, the audience surely wonders.

The Houston side of the production shows itself admirably. The show’s director is Kenn McLaughlin, the artistic director for the Houston group. Sally Edmundson, the actress playing Anest works out of Houston. The impressive sound, including some interesting original music, is from Anthony Barilla, based in Houston. Lighting, too, is from Texas, courtesy of Steve Carmichael, whose work is important to the story. And the set is courtesy of Michael Heil, giving us land and sea in the space of the Kranzberg’s black box. McLaughlin has sewn it all together nicely.

The show runs about 100 minutes without intermission. One wishes more might have been made of the mother-daughter relationship, but all in all it works well and gives a fine showcase for some outstanding talent.

 

Salt, Root, and Roe

through May 12

Upstream Theater

Kranzberg Arts Center

501 N. Grand

314-669-6382

website

True West

It’s hard to imagine anyone being comfortable watching a Sam Shepherd play. His onstage world is a bleak one, no matter the setting. But of course that’s the way the world is; just because it’s a household with a paid-off mortgage and nice clothing doesn’t mean the occupants are happy, or even functional. True West takes place in a far ‘burb of Los Angeles, far from surfboards and closer to the desert. It’s dry there, emotionally dry, raw and scraping and unlubricated.

Nevertheless, True West, like all Shepherd plays, is fascinating, quickly drawing the viewer in and then sliding into seat-squirming uncomfortableness. Soon comes an evolving into what’s happening here?, the balance shifting to leave everyone, both the characters and the audience, unsettled.

William Humphrey is Austin, whom we meet sitting at a kitchen table with a typewriter. He’s a writer trying to sell a screenplay, and it’s his mom’s house – she’s off on a trip to Alaska and offered it to him so he could work near the producer who’s interested. His older brother Lee, played by Isaiah Di Lorenzo, is on hand as well. They couldn’t be more different. Lee’s a drifter, angry and confrontational and doing all he can to disrupt Austin’s work. He’s also a superb manipulator, as we discover when Austin’s producer (William Roth) shows up as planned to work the screenplay deal out and Lee returns quasi-unexpectedly from some errands.

The tension throughout the play is broken, sometimes frequently, with Shepherd’s dark humor – it’s surprising how much laughter is heard during the performances. That, too, contributes to the balance of the experience, the back and forth between Austin and Lee, and the third factor created by the arrival of the producer. It’s like a pinball machine.

The vibes between Humphrey and Di Lorenzo are powerful – the relationship dance is beautifully drawn. Humphrey’s careful, hopeful Austin, such a contrast to the seemingly half-crazy Lee of Di Lorenzo, begins to change, or, more likely, revert. Di Lorenzo shows us not just the menace of Lee but exhibits a real gift for physical comedy made even more vivid by the circumstances of the story.

This is William Whitaker’s first time directing at St. Louis Actors’ Studio and he’s done a fine job, including part of the sound design, a credit shared with Jeff Roberts. Patrick Huber’s set, a turquoise kitchen that looks only slightly newer than Austin’s manual typewriter – and which may have to be replaced for each show, all things considered – is right in the groove for things.

A carefully created rendition of an excellent play.

 

True West

through April 28

St. Louis Actors’ Studio

Gaslight Theater

360 N. Boyle

314-458-2978

stlas.org

Fefu and Her Friends

Perhaps the main purpose of art is to make us think. And while my general approach to reviewing theatre has been described – without malice – as being like the guy on the next bar stool, the more experimental shows always intrigue me. One doesn’t listen to Phillip Glass because of his hummable melodies, or see Joan Miro paintings because the work is a beautiful version of your own landscape. Personally, I need Gershwin and da Vinci in my life more than either of those artists. And yet there’s always the need to explore.

And so we have Fefu and Her Friends from Theatre Nuevo. Staged in a private home in south St. Louis, it ranges between dreamlike and vivid. A group of women gather to plan some future event. Fefu, the hostess, is strong and rather strange. Seven guests appear and we learn parts of their stories. Scene 1 is in the living room, where everyone, cast and audience gathers. Scene 2 occurs simultaneously in four different places as the audience breaks into groups and the scene is repeated four times, sometimes with dialogue overlapping. Scene 3 brings everyone back to the living room to round things off.

There are strong performances here, despite the feeling that they are puzzle pieces that may not fit any specific part of the tale, not surprising in this sort of theatre. CeCe Hill’s Fefu is indeed the leader of the pack, almost manicky in her energy and her enthusiasm for what clearly seems like self-loathing. Jamie Mckittrick has a marvelous monologue that she delivers climbing in and out of a window (on a rainy opening night, no less) that’s hard to resist. Louise, who’s in a wheelchair after a hunting accident a year previously, is Sophia Brown, who has the chops to handle the most tormented role of the eight, and she’s splendid.

Maria Irene Fornes wrote this play, Fornes being an iconoclastic figure in experimental theatre. There’s been a fair amount of academic analysis of the symbolism and feminism of the play, but the thing to do is to just let it flow and take it in. Quite fascinating.

Nevertheless, don’t plan on showing up and buying a ticket. The address won’t be revealed until tickets are purchased – and the size of the audience, not surprisingly, is limited. Overall, something different and challenging for the adventurous playgoer.

 

Fefu and her Friends

through April 20

Theatre Nuevo

Website

Dreamgirls

People still argue over whether Dreamgirls is or isn’t about the Supremes and Diana Ross. The story only has some parallels, and there was an abundance of girl groups in the years before and during Motown’s golden era. But it really makes no difference. Go see Dreamgirls at Stray Dog Theatre because it sounds glorious.

Director Justin Been and artistic director Gary Bell have almost outdone themselves with this show. Careful casting has given first-rate results for the eye and, more importantly, the ear. It’s a large cast, with 22 people, yet the stage never seems stuffed, probably because they take full advantage of the aisles and the temporary thrust, or stage extension, added for the show.

Effie White, the lead singer of the Dreamettes, who’ve come to Harlem’s famed Apollo Theatre for their amateur contest, is always cast as a young woman of size. SDT has given us Ebony Easter, who absolutely owns the role. She rocks it. The other original members of the Dreamettes are Deena, who eventually becomes the sort-of Diana Ross, played by Eleanor Humphrey, more restrained and perhaps more elegant, and Lorrell, Tateonna Thompson. Michelle, who replaces Effie after she gets the boot, is Diamon Lester. The latter two surely hold their own performing in this good company.

The guys do well, too. Omega Jones steps up to play James “Thunder” Early, the already-popular singer who’s lost his backup singers that night in Harlem. Who knew Jones was such a fine hoofer? Sounds good, and as always a superb actor. Curtis Taylor, who becomes their manager that night at the Apollo, is Abraham Shaw. Curtis turns out to be a metaphorical snake oil salesman, and Shaw’s perfect, charming, determined and very subtle – most of the time – about his immense self-interest. I was also charmed by Don McClendon’s Marty, “Thunder” Early’s manager, calm and poised throughout the storms.

It’s a large band, too, tucked on a second level of the stage, nine members led by Jennifer Buchheit. If they aren’t having a good time, you could have fooled me, because it certainly sounds like it.

I’m always amazed when a glam show is better in a small venue than it is in a large traditional theater, and that’s the case here. The set is the work of Josh Smith and the painting of Myles Bledsoe, complimented by Tyler Duenow’s lighting. The intimacy makes a difference in a story that isn’t just a jukebox musical. It is indeed about dreams, fighting for them, realizing them and, most importantly in my opinion, having them. (Bloody Mary of South Pacific was right.)

The letdown is in the women‘s costumes. There are problems in several places and it’s most notable on the costumes for Effie, which seem thrown together, are remarkably ill-fitting and careless. A raveled, unhemmed hemline on a dress for a show, unlike the dresses for the other two members of the group, was the most obvious but the difference appears early and often.

Nevertheless, it’s a fine show, and tickets are apparently moving fast. Get your groove on.

 

Dreamgirls

through April 20

Stray Dog Theatre

2336 Tennessee Ave.

314-865-1995

www.straydogtheatre.org

Popcorn Falls

Delightfully goofy. That’s The Midnight Company’s Popcorn Falls. A two-person comedy? Well, two actors. But not two characters. Way not two characters. Joe Hanrahan and Shane Signorino give us, seemingly, half the population of the small town of Popcorn Falls.

The town has been, ahem, left up the creek by a dam diverting the water source of the falls for which the burg is named. Hanrahan’s primary character is the town’s mayor, a relative newcomer to Popcorn Falls. Signorino is mainly Joe, the “executive custodian” at City Hall. The county executive built the dam and wants to build a sewage plant where Popcorn Falls is. The town’s bankrupt since tourists coming to see the falls (maybe even the spot where George Washington dined, or at least ate a picnic) have evaporated, so there’s no money to fight the crooked county exec.

But wait – there’s an arts grant that they’re entitled to! Arts? They have no theatre, no galleries. Nevertheless, they’ll do it themselves. “Hey, gang, let’s put on a show!” is brought to a new level.

Hanrahan and Signorino live up to their full potential with this script, and the black box at the Kranzberg is a fine venue for the work, which depends far more on the actors than anything else. Still the set, more complicated than the unknowing might think, is fun and workable, courtesy of Chuck Winning. Tony Anselmo’s lighting gives us a lot of help with changing scenes. Sarah Whitney, an associate director for The Midnight Company, directed.

Playwright James Hindman is, not surprisingly, also an actor, so it’s no wonder this is a piece that lets actors really throw themselves into their work. Good fun, relaxing and with a rewarding twist at the end.

About 90 minutes without an intermission.

 

Popcorn Falls

through April 13

The Midnight Company

Kranzberg Black Box

501 N. Grand

metrotix.com

 

Time Stands Still

Time Stands Still was written in 2009 – although author Donald Margulies acknowledges he did some revision and tightening a few years after that. It feels all too fresh.

Two young, or at least young-ish, free-lance journalists are partners and often work together. Sarah Goodwin (Wendy Renee Greenwood) is a photojournalist of considerable ability and a reputation to match. Her long-time boyfriend James Dodds (Ben Nordstrom) writes, quite ably but isn’t the major figure that Sarah is.

When they enter their Brooklyn loft, Sarah is on crutches. They’ve both been in Iraq, but James left early after an IED blew up nearby, leaving him with human remains splattered on his face and PTSD. Sarah stayed longer. She was in a vehicle that also fell prey to an explosive device, killing, among other people, her fixer (translator and general factotum). It’s her first time in the apartment since the accident and her hospitalization, but it’s clear that she’s eager to resume her previous life. James, though, is anxious about that, and protective of her. He’s currently working on some piece about horror movies as both metaphors and catharsis.

An old friend and editor with whom they’ve frequently worked, Richard (Jerry Vogel), visits after a few days. He brings with him his new, much younger girlfriend, Mandy (Eileen Engel). She’s not a total innocent, but far more gee-whiz than the other three. Still, he’s obviously crazy about her.

Sarah wants to get back to work. James wants to think about anything but Iraq. He’s discovered he likes nesting. And speaking of nesting, Mandy and Richard found out they’re having a baby, and they marry. Maybe Sarah and James should.

But the play’s secondary theme, the horrors of war and its effect even on those who aren’t combatants or residents, is burning. Mandy asks to see Sarah’s photos. They are, of course, graphic, and when Mandy asks about the fate of a critically injured child and what Sarah did when the child was hurt, things get scalding.

Here, then, is the question: Is it the job of journalism to change things or to record them? Would things be changed more by Sarah scooping up the child and driving it to a hospital or by taking the photographs which will show the world how awful the conflict is?

And how does one negotiate change in a relationship when the basic agreements on which it began are brought into questions? When our lives sneak up on our assumptions about what we want, and about what our partners and our families want, how do you negotiate those changes?

It’s fine ensemble work, certainly. Greenwood’s subtle portrayal of Sarah shows an independent woman trying not to give in to her injury nor to ignore it completely, just as she does with James’ fretting over her. James’ anxiety over life in general is also not overplayed by Nordstrom, as it’s slowly shown to be more of a factor than first shown. Vogel’s Ehrlich is the most stable one of the group, not dull but rock-like. And the Mandy character, whom we presume to be pretty much an airhead, shows plenty of growth through the play.

It’s a fine script – Margulies knows his stuff, and his women characters show plenty of depth. John Stark’s design of their apartment is exactly what you’d expect, a combination of older appliances and furniture from a mid-range chain like Design Within Reach. Michael Sullivan’s lighting pulls us in, but the real noticeable factor from the designers is Zoe Sullivan’s music perfectly scored yet unexpected. I liked that a lot. Director Doug Finlayson has created a very worthwhile group to offer a thoughtful experience for all audiences.

 

Time Stands Still

through April 14

The New Jewish Theatre

Marvin & Harlene Wool Studio Theatre

Arts & Education Building

Jewish Community Center

2 Millstone Campus Drive

website

The Play That Goes Wrong

Spring seems to be in sight. We should all be frolicking like lambs (except, perhaps, when we’re dealing with taxes). Sunlight has been seen, the snow seems all melted – so far – and spring training is on the radio. Enough with the heavy themes of the winter months, the furrowed brows, the deep sighs and the throwing of nearby objects at television news programs.

To help lighten our moods, the Repertory Theatre of St. Louis has given us a murder mystery. Except...well, it’s not quite the classic English manor house whodunit. Definitely not.

The Play That Goes Wrong actually looks like one of the aforementioned, the splendid set from Peter and Margery Spack proving itself to be both even more and even less splendid as the evening progresses. It seems we are to be subjected to the work of the Cornley University Drama Society, whose invitation to the Rep, one finds, perusing the program, was financed by the inheritance of one of the student players. They’re doing The Murder at Haversham Manor. We’re welcomed by the prez of the CUDS, who’s also directing the players. (The actual show is directed by Melissa Rain Anderson.) We even have a listing of the “cast” as well as, a few pages later, the actual cast playing the characters playing the characters. If you follow me, I mean.

And if there were a curtain in the Rep, it would rise before the dead body of Charles Haversham (Benjamin Curns) is settled in place onto a chaise. It’s the evening of Charles’ engagement party to the lovely Florence (Ruth Pferdehirt), and there are no obvious signs of trauma on his body. Of course there’s a snowstorm brewing outside – isn’t there always? – and Inspector Carter (Michael Keyloun, who also plays the director) is summoned by the prancing younger brother of the deceased, Cecil (Matthew McGloin, also doubling as the gardener). There is, of course, a butler (Evan Zes)on scene, and Florence’s brother (John Rapson), too, there for the party and used to dealing with Florence’s hysterical spells.

Not so straightforward as it seems, though – these are very amateur actors, not theatre majors like we find at, say, Webster’s student productions. Declaiming. Missing cues. Forgetting lines. You say you get the idea? Far from it. Please mix in a set that isn’t quite done, a frantic stage manager (Ka-Ling Chung), a distracted lighting and sound operator (Ryan George) and an absolutely immense amount of physical comedy.

While the lines are funny, and the deliberate overacting and flubbing is funnier still, it’s the movement that sets this show apart from the very first. The falls, the crawls, the face plants both vertical and horizontal are almost constant. Director Anderson didn’t use a choreographer for all this, just blocked it herself, apparently. Between that dazzling accomplishment and the cast’s ability to keep it all straight while making sure they don’t do what they’re trained to do, which is act in the traditional theatrical style, is nothing short of stunning.

This is very fine ensemble work, which makes it hard to call out specific actors for their work, but attention must be paid to Ka-Ling Chung as the stage manager and Michael Keyloun, who gives vague hints of John Cleese in this performance. It’s all in keeping with a play that actually did begin with university students putting it together and running it in a 60-seat theater above a pub in the Islington neighborhood of London.

At times the dialogue is lost in the audience laughter, but the pace Anderson wants keeps rolling on, and no audience member will feel shortchanged by the end of the play. There’s enough going on that it’s a show that satisfies, if not the intellect, certainly the funny bone in a most remarkable way.

 

The Play That Goes Wrong

through April 7

Repertory Theatre St. Louis

Loretto-Hilton Center for the Performing Arts

130 Edgar Rd., Webster Groves

repstl.org

Beautiful

It’s hard to beat the exuberance of Beautiful. Of all the jukebox musicals, it has, I suspect, the longest time span of songs, so there are at least two generations that see the show and try to resist the urge to dance in the seats.

It is, like so many of these shows, the background music to many of our lives, but the show is more than that. It’s about determination and flexibility and energy and the joy of being creative. That sets it, to some degree, apart from the others in the jukebox musical genre; there’s a real story here that seems to draw people in even more than, say, Jersey Boys does, which also has a semi-accurate story line but doesn’t seem so personal.

Carole King was writing songs, and began selling them while she was in high school in the 1950’s. She met Gerry Goffin at Queens College, where she was enrolled at age 16. They became a couple, writing partners – he did lyrics – and soon thereafter spouses and parents. It took a little while before they were successful enough to quit their day jobs, but the number of their big hits kept rising. Turmoil in their personal lives? Why, yes. But nothing seemed to stop the music.

And that’s to our benefit. The music sounds great from the get-go, especially a multi-hit montage of the hits that came out of 1650 Broadway (not the famous Brill Building, but across the street). It’s not quite a medley, with sometimes only four bars or so, and lots of things going on at once, but a great mashup of songs. The Fox’s sound system has never sounded better, too, neither blowing out eardrums nor muffling anything.

It’s splendidly cast, with Sarah Bockel as Carole, from teenager to mature woman, very believable. Gerry Goffin is Dylan S. Wallach, charming and brilliant and unhappy and tortured, carrying full weight as a key to much of what happened with King. Another pair who began writing songs in the time period, Cynthia Weil and Barry Mann, have a big part in the show, and they’re played by Alison Whitehurst and Jacob Heimer, she all style and strength and he the hypochondriac who’s smitten with her; their songs are in here as well. Carol’s mother Genie adds a lot to things; she’s Suzanne Grodner, who tosses off some particularly funny lines. Don Kirshner, the music producer, is courtesy of James Clow, who amiably pushes his stable of artists to greater heights, including people like Neil Sedaka (whom King briefly dated in high school), Bobby Darin, and Phil Spector, long before he became an oddly coiffed defendant in a strange murder case.

The clothing is close enough to make us remember what many of us wore in those days before pantyhose. (How on earth could women get enough air wearing girdles?) And dance moves in heels considerably higher than what we see onstage, for which all the women in the cast should be eternally grateful, probably led to more sprained ankles than cobblestones after a night’s revelry.

But that leads into something that seems more common these days. Dance numbers, especially with smaller groups of dancers, seem considerably less coordinated than one would expect from professionals. If there are three or four, one person will too often be a half-beat behind or not fully in position. In a serious professional production, that’s a real flaw. It happens here. It’s less noticeable in the large numbers because there’s less simultaneous movement in most modern choreography. But things, not just with this company, are slipping on this component. Too bad, but it’s the most serious complaint I could offer about this joyous piece of work.

 

Beautiful

through March 17

Fox Theatre

527 N. Grand

www.fabulousfox.com

 

Nonsense and Beauty

Two people meet. A spark is struck. Words of love are spoken. After a while, one of them meets and marries someone else. What happens to the first relationship, especially if both parties are still invested in it, albeit to different degrees?

Nonsense and Beauty, now at the Rep Studio, brings the first full production of a drama St. Louis first found last year in the Rep’s Ignite! series. We have a world premiere of this story of E.M. Forster, who was the author of Howard’s End, Passage to India and other novels, and his love for a young policeman whom he met in the 1930’s. The author is Scott C. Sickles.

Not only was homosexuality illegal then, Forster (Jeffrey Hayenga) and Robert Buckingham ((Robbie Simpson) couldn’t even share living quarters. Buckingham, of course, being a policeman was held to a particularly high standard. Buckingham’s marriage to a young nurse tears Forster almost apart.

Much of the tale is told through Forster’s friend J.R. Ackerley (John Feltch), who introduces the two lovers and provides plenty of acerbic commentary. May Buckingham (Lori Vega), Bob’s wife, eventually, sort of, maybe, thinks Morgan – Forster used his middle name – is uncommonly fond of her husband, but that nothing happened. And then there’s Forster’s mother (Donna Weinsting), who’s not as dotty as she seems to let us think.

In some ways, this is not a new story – hidden love is as old as civilization. The close confines of the Studio Theatre make it up close and personal. The contrast between the hesitant, upper-class intellectual who dreams of a loving relationship and the much younger man who is pretty much the epitome of what he’s longed for, including being more forthcoming physically and emotionally, is striking. When Bob Buckingham falls in love with the young nurse, it doesn’t appear, at least in the play, to be a sham. When one loves two people, as someone recently said, you’re drawing from two different accounts.

What Forster and both the Buckinghams make of the situation is the path we follow, and a difficult, winding and rocky one it is. Hayenga’s Forster manages to blend reserve and impetuousness splendidly; Simpson, as Buckingham, is a wonderful fresh-faced young lover; watching him age is fascinating. Perfectly thrown-about banter between Feltch and Havenga is an absolute delight, Feltch being as irresistible as a snake-oil charmer. Weinsting is particularly in her element as a matriarch with a stinger – watch her face as she’s watching her son, for instance, even when she’s not throwing out her barbs and wails. Lori Vega as May Buckingham has as complicated a role as the two men in her life, perhaps more so, and she expands her awareness with considerable subtlety. If we finds her head too far in the sand, we have to remember the time period.

A side note about something in the play. Forster is horrified when he finds that Buckingham is involved with a nurse. The English stereotype of a nurse as being a slattern or alcoholic or woman of ill repute – think Dickens’ Sairey Gamp – was the barrier Florence Nightingale faced as a well-brought-up woman. The idea that it was not a profession into which the right sort of girl entered remained, especially in the upper classes, for several generations after Nightingale established the first non-religious nursing school at St. Thomas’ Hospital in London. Her first graduates began practicing around 1865. [End of infomercial!]

Seth Gordon directed with a careful and sure hand, having directed its first public reading of it more than twenty years ago. His associates in the production are Brian Sidney Bembridge, scenic and lighting designer, Rusty Wandall, sound designer, and Felia K. Davenport, who has a particularly dab hand with the plaid suits which don’t somehow appear overwhelmingly garish.

Who knows where this play will go from here? Audiences have a chance to say we knew it when.

 

Nonsense and Beauty

through March 24

Studio Theatre

Repertory Theatre St. Louis

Loretto-Hilton Center for the Performing Arts

130 Edgar Rd., Webster Groves

repstl.org

Buffon Glass Menajoree

Bouffon Glass Menajoree was staged this weekend when the Ten Directions Production was hosted by Young Liars Theatre.

If you are, as I was, unfamiliar with the theatre style termed “bouffon”, here’s what Wikipedia says: “a modern French theater term that was re-coined in the early 1960s...to describe a specific style of performance work that has a main focus in the art of mockery.“ Tres avant-garde, even fifty years later. It goes on to explain that Jacqus LeCoq, the creator of the term, taught classes that emphasized “elements of burlesque, commedia dell'arte, farce, gallows humor, parody, satire, [and] slapstick”.

It is indeed based on Glass Menagerie, but very loosely – I suspect those unfamiliar with the story of the Tennessee Williams classic would be pretty lost. On the other hand, this isn’t the sort of show that attracts rookie theater-goers, it’s for the hard core among us.

Lynn Berg, one of the founders of Ten Directions, is Tom, costumed in a t-shirt showing his diaphragm in front and creating a hunchback behind his shoulders, plus cut-off jean shorts and white leggings resembling antiembolic stockings. His language and attitude toward his sister Laura, played by Audrey Crabtree. Crabtree is the other founder of the group. She wears a bloodied hospital gown open in the back and underwear with duct tape on it, and sports a platinum wig that is near-indescribable. Mother Amanda, Aimee Leigh German, who appears younger than Laura, merely sports pink jogging pants, white boots and another t-shirt stretched within a millimeter of its life, this time in the front of the torso.

The three actors created the script with director Eric Davis, who also did the original music and the frequently very interesting scenic design. It takes place in the present rather than in the twilight of the past, and there’s a fair amount of screaming involved, especially between the two not-so-loving siblings. Unsurprisingly, there’s audience participation involved, some of which is more elaborate than just catching cans of beer tossed from an onstage cooler.

All those elements named above came into play, certainly, as we hang out with the Wingfields. The difficulty is making out the difference between ninety minutes of this versus a certain adolescent how-much-can-we-shock-’em. At times this crept into the sort of feeling when some jokes were made over and over and over again, which left a can’t-you-find-something-new-to-insert-here idea hanging nakedly over the scene.

It’s raw and energetic and interesting, but clearly not for the Mrs. Grundys of the world. Ten Directions Production has relocated from New York to St. Louis, so we surely will see more of them.

 

Young Liars Theatre

on line

Ten Directions Production

on line

Well

Well, the current offering from Mustard Seed Theatre seems to begin with the concept of chronic illness and its effect on the family. It is, almost, a play-within-a-play-within-a-play. Don’t however, let those two descriptors put you off. Theatre is about storytelling, and often, indeed mostly, those stories are about stressful situations, whether the stress is good or bad.

Written by Lisa Kron, the playwright who gave us Fun Home, the lead is Kron herself, played by Katy Keating. She’s trying to put together what she insists is “a theatrical exploration” of her mother’s illness and her mother’s effect on her local community. Mom Ann, here Lori Adams, spends much of her time in a lounge chair, dozing and watching her daughter’s rehearsing of the theatrical exploration she’s staging, with the help of a pile of index cards. The opening monologue by Lisa points out, among other things, that no matter how much you achieve in therapy, when you go home into the family constellation, it all seems to go out the window, so we know we’re in for a bumpy ride.

Mom doesn’t quite get just what it is that Lisa is doing with the piece. Nevertheless, she watches the rehearsal from her half of the stage, seeing into the rehearsal space and into the audience as well, as Lisa shows how mom’s work as an inadvertent community activist when Lisa was young affected the neighborhood and, of course, her daughter.

Not surprisingly, her mother can’t keep from speaking up – Adams’ accent is slightly Marge Gundersonesque – and eventually she ends up surrounded by Lisa’s actors, Alicia Reve Like, Carl Overly, Jr., Bob Thibaut and Leslie Wobbe, all of whom play other characters as needed. They’re quick and funny, zipping through some costume changes with alacrity. Bess Moynihan did the set, and the Sullivans brought their talents: Jane Sullivan did the costumes, Michael Sullivan the lights (which are managed so as to remind the audience of how significant they are to a play), and sound from Zoe Sullivan. Deanna Jent directs Well well.

While the question of the effects of chronic illness is a serious one, this is not a grim show, although the question is almost peripheral to what we experience. There are some very funny lines here, for one thing. But it isn’t until the hospital scenes begin that we truly learn how much caricature is being used for illustrative purposes – and that’s quite legitimate, it just came as a surprise to someone who spent many, many years working in such places. A couple of twists make the audience even more surprised.

A fine 95 minutes of intellectual exercise, to be sure. No intermission.

 

Well

through March 17

Mustard Seed Theatre

6800 Wydown Blvd, Clayton (enter off Big Bend)

314-719-8060

www.mustardseedtheatre.com

Exit, Pursued by a Bear

Woman in pursuit of a goal.

Stand back; author Lauren Gunderson is going to tell you all about it. In Exit, Pursued by a Bear she offers a tale of a young blue-collar couple in an exurb of Atlanta one Fourth of July. Gunderson’s the one who gave us Christmas at Pemberley Manor, the Jane Austen take the Rep did several years ago, but this is a waaay different sort of drawing room comedy. Drawing? Nan Carter is married to Kyle. She’s interested in drawing bears. Not sketching them, but luring them by means of fresh meat. Kyle, it seems, is one mean guy, especially when he’s been drinking, which seems to happen with considerable frequency. Nan is pretty tired of it, and intends to get out.

She started to realize she could when she got to know Sweetheart, a local amateur actor who moonlights at one of the “men’s clubs” that ring Atlanta, dancing as Miss Peaches. Somehow, it’s not surprising that they met at Subway. Sweetheart lent Lauren her copy of Shakespeare’s complete works. One thinks perhaps she also brought up George Bernard Shaw who said, “I dream things that never were and say why not?” Sweetheart’s dreams aim for Los Angeles and an acting career; Nan has begun to realize there’s a world out there that she’s really, really missing out on, and her marriage is an epic fail.

What to do, what to do…. Our first clue may be the many bear-shaped squeeze bottles that populate the set, which is the Carter home. Our second clue is that when we meet Kyle, he’s duct-taped to the recliner. Then there’s Simon, Nan’s BFF for years, who arrives for the fun wearing a Georgia Bulldogs cheerleader costume, complete with flippy little skirt.

Lexa Wroniak plays a very believable Nan, full of disillusioned innocence and able to quote Jimmy Carter, who, she admits, is no kin, at the drop of a noun. Sweetheart, aka Miss Peaches, is Tara Ernst, an absolute delight, making the character bigger-than-life – metaphorically speaking. Ethan Isaac’s Simon flounces, pompons and all, with the greatest of ease, making sure his bestie’s new pal is really acting (ahem) in her best interest. It’s hard to emote when you’re restrained in an overstuffed chair, but Alex Fyles, as Kyle, even manages to enunciate some fairly understandable words from behind the tape usually covering his mouth.

Teresa Doggett directed this romp with lighting design from Amy Ruprecht and sound design from Kareem Deanes. Lots of fun.

Who needs reality when you can have all this?

 

Exit, Pursued by a Bear

through February 17

West End Players Guild

Union Avenue Christian Church

733 Union Blvd. (enter on Enright Avenue)

www.westendplayers.org

Milk Like Sugar

Milk Like Sugar is the disquieting story of three young women, high school students who decide, when one announces she’s pregnant, they should all have babies together. “You can dress them up, and they’ll love you,” explains one. Also, people have to buy you what you want, like Coach diaper bags and tiny Air Jordans.

Yes, they are very young – we meet them in a tattoo parlor as Annie (Brandi Threatts) is about to turn 16 – so young that one of their ways of assessing a potential father is what kind of cell phones he has. (The play is set about 15 years ago, more or less when a similar pact was discovered among young women at a Massachusetts school.) Margie (Camille Sharp) is the one who’s pregnant. The high-energy queen bee Talisha (Tyler White) has an older boyfriend who actually has his own place. Birthday girl Annie will be the one auditioning potential baby daddies.

Annie’s clearly the only one even vaguely pondering other alternatives in her life, but she has no idea what. She sort of feels a spark with the tattoo artist (Brian McKinley). A senior, Malik (Dwayne McCowan), who’s heard she thinks he’s cute, wants to meet her in a park. Both of the young men talk, in different ways, about things they’re passionate about, encouraging her. Keera (Jillian Franks), a girl at school that Talisha has bullied into writing a paper for her and whom the girls disdainfully refer to as Holly Hobbie, the rustic cartoon/toy character, talks about how her loving father and her religion have given her happiness, but Annie has neither of those to identify with.

It’s really not until Annie is talking to her mom (Michelle Dillard) that we get a full sense of how much she wants something and how tough it’s going to be for her to get there. Mom cleans offices at night and writes stories in the daytime. Pregnant as a teenager, raising three children alone, she’s tired and angry. Now she hears her only daughter dreamily explain that “Babies aren’t real work.” More than reality rears its ugly head.

This is indeed real life. It’s not cute, it’s not contrived. It’s hard, it’s frustrating and it’s a problem that art can’t solve.

The young women actors are a delight. Threatts carries off the not-always-easy appearance of adolescent subtlety just as well as she does the excitement of the birthday. As Margie, Sharp is convinced she knows pretty much everything she needs to know, and her disdain when a nurse wearing a glove tries to hand her prenatal information is beyond scathing. Then there’s White’s Talisha, who is totally supercharged except when she’s talking about her boyfriend; then, somehow, she becomes distant. The off-key Keera from Franks is a wonderful puzzlement, so different that it’s hard to take one’s eyes off her.

Still, it’s mom that leads the way. Michelle Dillard pretty much owns that role, mopping up the floor with her daughter. Malik, the boy with an idea of the outside world, is hesitant and interested at the same time in Dwayne McCowan’s hands; Brian McKinley’s young tattoist opens up at last and lets us see the self-assurance isn’t all it seems.

Nicole Brewer directed, pulling it all together with verve. The fascinating scenic design is by Rama, the lights from Sean Savoie, and the interesting sound from Kareem Deanes. As to the script – I’ve heard the argument that the opening is too Over The Top. I’ve heard that the ending is too weak. Both are wrong. The opening is accurate, however grating adolescent women can be, and the exposition is spot-on. The ending...this isn’t an after-school special, to be sure. But in between, there’s a strong story about real life and some fascinating character development, and that’s the best of all.

No intermission, and it’s working in the black box at the Edison Theatre in Washington University’s Mallinkrodt Center – at the west end of the building.

 

Milk Like Sugar

through March 3

The Black Rep

A. E. Hotchner Studio Theatre

Washington University in St. Louis

www.theblackrep.org

 

Oslo

Most of us seldom think any more of the Oslo Peace Accords, even if we’re the sort of people who really keep up with world events. The results of those talks have been...well, modest compared to what many people had hoped for. Nevertheless, it was a momentous thing for the government of Israel and the Palestine Liberation Organization to officially acknowledge the other’s existence and enter into formal agreements.

That all sounds very distant from what works in a play. But how the accord came to be is a fascinating and very human story about how individuals can make a difference in the world. A Norwegian couple, he a researcher and she a civil servant, thought perhaps there might be a way to get Israel and the Palestinians talking to each other if it were out of the public eye and done by people who weren’t public officials. The play Oslo, the Tony winner for Best Play in 2017, is an adapted version, written by J.T. Rogers, of what happened. (Here’s a link to how it went in real life.) Directed by retiring artistic director Steve Woolf, it’s just opened at the Repertory Theatre of St. Louis.

 

We meet Terje Rod-Larsen (Jim Poulos) and his wife Mona Juul (Kathleen Wise). They tell her boss, Johan Jorgen Holst (Jonathan Gillard Daly), who’s the minister of foreign affairs for Norway, and his wife Marianne Heiberg (Michelle Hand), and discussions begin about how to do this.

The talks begin with two Israelis, Yair Hirschfeld (John Rensenhouse) and Ron Pundak (Michael James Reed), interacting to two Palestinians, Ahmed Qaurie (Rajesh Bose) and Jassan Asfour). This proves to be a wonderful tag team match. Over the course of the play, watching them spar and carouse is almost as much of a high point as the message of the drama, which is that sometimes you have to try the impossible. As the world knows, the talks progressed and a formal signing was held at the White House in September of 1993, but even at that point, there was posturing going on. Bill Clinton tells of worrying about handshakes between Yitzhak Rabin and Yasser Arafat and what to do if Arafat leaned forward to kiss Rabin, the traditional Arab greeting, at the signing of the Oslo Accord that day. A number of people here play multiple roles, often to the point where they’re hard to recognize.

It’s a fascinating play, well written and surprisingly funny. There are even food jokes. The hostess at the estate where the talks begin has planned a nice dinner with the main course roast pork. And do not be surprised at the appearance of waffles, vafler. Waffles are very Norwegian. The Norway bureau of the Pollacks remind me they’re not a breakfast food, they’re a snack. I’ve seen them offered – waffle iron, pitcher of batter, tub of sour cream and some jam – in a hotel bar in dark late afternoons in December. Parents’ clubs sell waffles to raise money at football games and such. So when the waffles come out, you know this is all the real thing.

Michael Ganio’s scenic design works really well, with fine use of Nathan W. Scheuer’s projections. I muttered for a while about Dorothy Marshall Englis’ choice to use ties on all the Israeli government officials, but by this period in time, except for highly formal occasions, at least half the members of the Knesset appear to have worn them, a change from the original tradition.

A very successful show, with fine acting and a good story line. It’s sad that things have not gone as well as they hoped, but that’s another point of the whole thing. To use Jesse Jackson’s trademark phrase, keep hope alive, keep hope alive.

 

Oslo

through March 3

Repertory Theatre St. Louis

Loretto-Hilton Center for the Performing Arts

130 Edgar Rd., Webster Groves

repstl.org

The Crucible

Arthur Miller wrote The Crucible, a play about the Salem witch trials of the late 1600’s, as a sort of allegory about the McCarthy hearings. Miller himself had been subpoenaed, testified and was held in contempt of Congress for refusing to identify other people at meetings he attended.

Seeing it in the current production by Stray Dog Theatre in the stage of American political thought we’re enduring now, one cannot help but look for parallels, of course. One can, and I’m sure many people have, argued that things were different then. Still, human behavior does repeat itself..

This, of course, was more than eighty years before the American Revolution when Massachusetts Bay Colony was still a part of England,, so English common law was in force. And when the daughter of the widowed Reverend Samuel Parris (Ben Ritchie) lies unresponsive after being found with her friends by her father dancing – oh, the horror of it – her father, and the rest of the small town, wonder if witchcraft was being practiced. The ripples, yea, waves from this extend widely, as evidenced by the size of the cast, 21 people, perhaps the largest SDT has ever used.

Not only is it a large cast, it’s a long show by the standards of today, four acts running over three hours. The plot is relatively complex when trying to explain what happens, other than this is the reason the phrase “witch hunt” has entered the American vocabulary, and who the characters are. Nevertheless, it’s clear that John Proctor (Graham Emmons), a local farmer, and his wife Elizabeth (Cynthia Pohlson), will be pivotal. Reverend Mr. Parris’ orphaned niece Abigail (Alison Linderer), who’d been hired as a maid by the Proctors, and then fired because she and John Proctor had become sexually involved, was one of the girls found dancing, and, we discover, was trying to evoke a curse on Mrs. Proctor, so she could marry him. Arrests begin on charges of witchcraft and the number mushrooms almost overnight as the hysteria spreads. There are trials. The penalty for being found guilty is death; if a defendant pleads guilty of being a witch, then there’s jail time and a ruined life – in this deeply, vigorously religious colony of Puritans.

It’s a carefully assembled cast, but some folks stand out, Ritchie, for instance, is so smug and pious it’s hard not to rush onstage and smack him. Emmons hits a good balance between being strong-willed on many things and deeply contrite toward his wife; opposite him, Pohlson is as stalwart as we imagine a loving-but-Puritan wife to be. Linderer’s Abigail tries hard to be seductive, but she’s really pretty bland, not surprising in that context.

Abraham Shaw gives a substantial Reverend John Hale, the visiting witchcraft authority from Andover, whose character evolves through the process. The redoubtable Rebecca Nurse, called Goody Nurse, using a title common in the era, short for “good wife”, is a fine, strong performance from Suzanne Greenwald. Deputy-Governor Danforth, who is presiding over the trials, comes courtesy of Joe Hanrahan, sometimes snarling, sometimes soothing, always satisfying.

Beyond considering any parallels to modern society, it also brings to mind stories of some Middle Eastern courts. It’s what happens when church and state are intertwined and how dangerous that is.

Especially for those who haven’t seen this classic of American theatre, it’s worth the commitment of time.

 

The Crucible

through February 23

Stray Dog Theatre

2336 Tennessee Ave.

314-865-1995

www.straydogtheatre.org

The Hundred Dresses

A fast tip of the hat – and a swoosh of the petticoats as well – in the direction of Metro Theater Company, St. Louis’ long-lived children’s theatre group. Their current offering, The Hundred Dresses, gives audiences the eternal question of dealing with The Other – a person or persons who are different from those around them. Taken from Eleanor Estes’ 1944 children’s novel of the same name, based on her own experience when a refugee began attending her school, it looks at how we view and what we do when faced with Others.

In an elementary class taught by Mr. Mason (Phillip C. Dixon), the students include Maddie, our narrator (Alicia Reve Like), the exuberant Tommy (Jacob Cange) and Peggy (Hailey Medrano), who swans about in true queen bee style, long before the phrase was coined. They’ve obviously been classmates before. Wanda Petronski (Sophie Murk) joins the class, and the giggles start with her last name. Then they notice she only wears the same dress every day, and her lunch is very simple. The metaphorical knives come out.

Artistic director Julia Flood directed this story of how a girl with one dress talks about a hundred dresses. David Blake designed the sets and the costumes, complete with what would have been at the time (which seems rather Fifties) called “can-can slips” come to us courtesy of Lou Bird. Medrano makes good use of the can-cans for her character’s superior preening and flouncing. Like‘s confusion over what to do about the conflict between the two other girls is carefully played but not overdone. And Murk’s Wanda is quite excellent, her hesitation and confusion weighing on her as she forges on.

Running time is about 55 minutes, no intermission. A worthwhile experience for the young and those who want to open their worlds wider.

 

The Hundred Dresses

through February 25

metroplays.org

Metro Theater Company

Grandel Theatre

3610 Grandel Square

Avenue Q

Does the whole world know by now that Avenue Q is a puppet show that definitely isn’t for kids? One would hope so, but just in case….

The version that’s currently at the Playhouse @ Westport Plaza seems even rowdier than the first version I saw. I didn’t find it offensive, and neither, apparently, did the people around me to judge from their responses, but I wouldn’t take my prudish Uncle Ralph to it.

The concept is that there are live actors who play some of the characters, and there are other characters who are puppets handled by actors who voice them. Sometimes necessity causes one puppet to be handled by two people, sometimes it causes a puppet to be handled by a different person than originally, although this is pretty brief. But each puppet’s voice is done by the same person. It’s pretty amazing how easy it is for the brain to assume that it’s the puppet speaking and not realize for a little while it’s a different human handling them.

This Avenue Q is locally cast, with some newcomers to the area, as well. I’m impressed with how well our folks are rocking the puppet handling and voicing. Lee Ann Matthews directs the crowd with a steady hand. The avenue itself seems to be in the Bronx, and we meet the neighbors, a la Sesame Street. Princeton is fresh out of college and ready to start his adult life, figuring out how just that works. His neighbors Brian (Brett Ambler) and Christmas Eve (Tori Manisco, subbing for Grace Langford for the performance I saw), Kate Monster, Rod and Nicky, Trekkie Monster and Gary Coleman (Illeana Kirven), who’s the super for his building, form a supportive community even though each of them have things they’re dealing with, too – just like real life.

This all sounds pretty innocuous, but you don’t have to wait long for truth to appear. Brian’s lost his day job; he wants to be a comedian. Christmas Eve, his girlfriend, is a therapist with no clients and is impatient with Brian’s lack of employment. Kate Monster is a minority, and as Princeton finds out quickly, not related to Trekkie Monster. Rod’s a slacker and Nicky, the uptight banker can’t admit his same-sex attraction. Gary Coleman’s life is a terrible comedown from having been a child star. One of the first songs is, “It Sucks To Be Me”, giving a hint of what’s to come. That’s followed by songs like “I’m Not Wearing Underwear Today” and “Everyone’s A Little Bit Racist”.

On the puppet side, Jennifer Theby-Quinn handles Kate Monster, and others, Kevin O’Brien handles Nicky, Trekkie Monster and others, and April Strelinger works multiple puppets that are secondary characters. The coordination is just remarkable.

This is running until early March. It’s a show that works as a date night, although maybe not a first date. (But on the other hand, it might prove a valuable assessment tool.) Very funny, very bawdy, fine work from the whole cast.

More local ties? Charlie Mueller is the musical director, Ben Nordstrom choreographed, Dunsi Dai did the scenic design, and Michael Sullivan the lighting. And director Matthews is ours, too. Nice to see the Playhouse utilizing our fine local talent pool.

 

Avenue Q

through March 3

Playhouse @ Westport Plaza

www.PlayhouseAtWestport.com

Classic Mystery Game

Classic Mystery Game is, as often happens with SATE Ensemble Theatre, rather a romp. Written and directed by Katy Keating, it’s a take on the board game Clue. It’s an Agatha Christie-ish murder in an English country house bringing together a bunch of strangers – strange strangers, in this case – to address some rather awkward business they turn out to have in common.

A video opens the show, making full use of The Chapel’s Oxonian architecture as though we were entering the aforesaid almost manor-sized house. The butler Wadsworth, Michael Cassidy Flynn, begins to welcome the guests who arrive mostly one at a time so we can learn about them. But why is this disparate group being assembled? What do they have in common?

To be sure, it’s an amusing group. Carl Overly, Jr., is the redoubtable Colonel Mustard, Ellie Schwetye the stylish widow Mrs. White, and Rachel Tibbetts plays Mrs. Peacock, the mutton-dressed-as-lamb wife of a senator. Mr. Green is Will Bonfiglio, the research scientist Professor Plum, Paul Cereghino, and femme fatale-slash-madam is Maggie Conroy. Mr. Boddy, who arrives late, is Reginald Pierre.

It’s a brave move for SATE to stage the show in a setting with known problems with acoustics and then choose to have so much of the dialogue delivered rapid fire. Between Flynn’s English accent and the speed of his delivery, which eases only slightly as the show progresses, quite a lot of details seemed to fly by the ear without landing comfortably. Others were affected as well, especially at first, but because he carried the majority of the lines, it fell primarily on Flynn.

There’s some very funny stuff here, to be sure, and the cast carries it off very well, diving into the play without chewing the scenery. Schwetye’s Mrs. White never seems to be without her carefully posed arm and upturned chin; Conroy slinks expertly as Miss Scarlett, never missing an opportunity for a double entendre. Cereghino slithers quietly about so well we scarcely realize he’s avoiding attention, and Tibbets’ barely-up-from-dowdiness is remarkable. Overly, as Mustard, is a worldly, wise chap without the puff and bluster the character is often given, and as Boddy, Pierre offers us marvelous menace. Kristem Strom is the French maid, and Marcy Ann Wiegert and Bess Moynihan play several roles, the former with much changing of chapeaux.

The pacing is sometimes as slam-bang as the delivery of those lines, although far less disconcerting – watching the group move through the “house” is pretty amusing, and the adjustment of Bess Moynihan’s set at times becomes part of the fun. Liz Henning’s costumes delineate the characters very well, especially for Mrs. White.

The show runs about 90 minutes including the intermission – it’d be improved by adding another 10 or 15 minutes so we could understand the dialogue more completely.

 

Classic Mystery

through February 10

SATE Ensemble Theatre

http://slightlyoff.org/

The Chapel

6239 Alexander (off Skinker)

Fiddler on the Roof

Fiddler on the Roof has become one of the standard American musicals. It’s popular with all kinds of groups, from schools to monster-sized professional theaters like the Muny. The show’s been seen in tiny 50-seat black boxes, school gymnasiums, under canvas. Residents of Anatevka, the village where it’s set, have been portrayed by actors from 5 to 85, of all persuasions. Many theater-goers have seen it multiple times, finding different versions of the village, of the costumes, of the fiddler himself – who is not, if you haven’t seen the show, the main character.

It opened Tuesday night (January 29, 2019) at the Fox. If you’ve seen it before and liked it, or even if you just “liked it okay” - you need to see this. This. Is. A. Broadway. Musical.

It’s not just the size of the stage and of the cast. It starts out big, really big, with “Tradition” almost bringing down the house. The orchestrations are large and joyously brassy. Eye-catching choreography pulls us in. This show is bigger, far bigger than Anatevka.

This revival of Fiddler is from Bartlett Sher, who’s given us some very impressive work in the past, like the revival of The King and I, seen here in November of 2017. (He also directed Oslo, a play that’s upcoming at the Rep.) He obviously likes to work in sweeping strokes when dealing with classics like this, and it’s to the benefit of both the show and the audience. There’s no single right way to stage these shows, and while there’s benefits to intimacy, a venue like the Fox is perfect for them.

Yehezkel Lazarov, our impressive-sounding Tevye, is from Israel, where he also directs and does lots of other theatrical things. His Tevye doesn’t carry the weight of the world quite so heavily on his shoulders as some, giving more of an impression of strength. As Golde, Tevye’s long-suffering wife who’s anything but a silent partner, Maite Uzal is merely extremely impatient and not seemingly permanent enraged, another change of style that benefits things – she’s often portrayed as the next worst thing to the Czar’s government. One of the drawbacks, though, of these huge venues is that it’s difficult to discern the subtleties of how a character is played, and that means that Tevye’s five daughters aren’t shown to full advantage. Mel Weyn, Ruthy Froch, and Natalie Powers, playing the three eldest girls, are charming but subdued, appropriate historically but seldom as vivid as their swains, the taylor, the scholar and the non-Jew.

The secondary, comedic roles are a lot of fun here, Motel the Taylor, played by Jesse Weil manages the physical comedy as well as the dialogue with shaking precision, just as demanded. Carol Beaugard, as Yente the matchmaker, roars through her job wheedling and suggesting and not taking no for an answer, with verve.

Michael Yeargan gives us a seemingly simple set with adaptation and additional work from Mikiko Suzuki MacAdams, and lighting from Donald Holder. The Fox sound system is in fine fettle, using Scott Lehrer and Alexander Neumann’s sound design. That amazing choreography has a long lineage, beginning with Jerome Robbins’ winning a Tony for the original show. This version explains that it’s original choreography by Hofesh Schechter, recreated by Christopher Evans, who’s worked extensively with Schechter. (Yes, the bottle dance is still there.)

It’s delightful that a show of this age can still be so full of excitement.

 

Fiddler on the Roof

through February 10

Fox Theatre

527 N. Grand

fabulousfox.com/

L'Italiana in Algeri

Winter Opera St. Louis staged L’Italiana in Algeri this past weekend. Not so well known as some other Rossini operas, it nevertheless proved to be mostly quite delightful despite the plot’s distasteful number “Viva, viva, il flagel delle donne”, or, more or less, “Hooray for striking the women”.

The bey of Algiers, Mustafa (Alec Soare) is bored with his wife, Elvira (Holly Flack), and decides he needs a new spouse. (Rossini apparently wasn’t aware of multiple wives in Islam, we assume.) He’s the fellow who says he “knows how to treat women”. The bey, among his other activities, runs a fleet of what we’d now call Barbary pirates, regularly bringing in captives whom he uses as slaves. The fresh crop includes a beautiful woman, Isabella (Kate Tombaugh), whom the bey immediately picks as the object of his affection. But one of his personal slaves, Lindoro (Gregory Schmidt) – who he’s planning on freeing and sending back to Italy, freed but married to his soon-to-be-ex-wife – turns out to be the beloved of Isabella.

It’s complicated, of course. No surprise there. Elvira loves her husband and doesn’t want to leave him, and Isabella is burdened with an aging admirer, Taddeo (Nicholas Ward), captured with her and who convinces the bey he’s Isabella’s uncle.

The bey’s personal habits in dealing with women are brought to heel by Isabella, who with fine deliberation outsmarts him from start to finish, and he’s straightened out quite satisfyingly.

Some very fine voices here, Tombaugh, Schmidt, and Soare in particular, working the zippy, tuneful score. Soare is wonderfully glowering as the bey. Ward proves to have quite a gift for comedy as the show moves on into the second act, including his dancing (shown above). Darwin Aquino conducted, and Eric Gibson stage directed. Scott Loebl did the scenic design, and Natali Arco the lighting. Special kudos to JC Krajicek for the fabulous costumes, a particularly notable job.

Winter Opera is now in its 12^th season, and continues to mature. A delightful show overall. They're doing Norma the weekend of March 8th.

 

L’Italiana in Algeri

January 2019

Winter Opera St. Louis

Website

 

Wittenberg

Upstream Theater is pretty much a sure bet for theater-goers who want something different. Their current offering, Wittenberg, described as “a tragical-comical-historical play”, is full of the high-verbal work that often graces their shows.

It would have to be high verbal, given that the main characters are Martin Luther, Faustus and Hamlet, all converging on a college campus in the town of Wittenberg - which must have been quite a happening spot - in the fall semester of 1517. Intellectual Fencing R Us, yes? Hamlet, a returning senior who has yet to declare a major, is being wooed into philosophy, mayhap a nice graduate program, by Dr. Faustus, since the kid seems to be the sort of person who ponders and ponders his options, just the right temperament for a budding philosopher. But a professor of theology, the Augustinian priest Martin Luther has his eye on the lad, and the lad’s eternal soul.

The fact is that Luther and Faustus have been colleagues, intellectual jousting partners and, indeed, drinking buddies for years. Faustus is brought to us in the person of Steve Isom. He’s an ebullient charmer, a long-time bachelor who, as a side note, has decided to propose to his lady love. Luther, courtesy of Alan Knoll, lapses into irascibility at any excuse, and frets at fruitless length about the spiritual health of Faustus, just one of a long list of his complaints and concerns. Those range from the sale of indulgences in the Catholic Church to the state of his own peristalsis. Knoll less than two months ago was playing God at another theater in town; is there a pattern emerging here?

Hamlet is Casey Boland, just coming back to school after a summer term in Poland studying astronomy with Copernicus. Copernicus has just posited that the earth actually revolves around the sun, which has the young scholar all a-twitch. Both these learned men are fond of him, and he’s got plenty of options ahead of him – he thinks.

It’s all about wit, both mental agility and humor, and we get plenty of both here. Some of the speeches, particularly of Hamlet, run a tad long, coming perilously close to what would in the 21^st Century be called a rant, but mostly it’s good fun and a pleasure to try to keep up with.

Isom and Knoll are both romping through this, showcasing their abilities with timing and delivery. Boland plays wide-eyed enthusiastic idealism with verve. The fourth member of the cast, Caitlin Mickey, quadruples in brass as the Virgin Mary, a bierhall server, an ambassador and the object of Faustus’ affection, an ex-nun who is not quite so honored by the great man’s attention as one might expect. (This is not, we hasten to add, the ex-nun whom Luther married after the time period of the play.)

Phillip Boehm, Upstream’s artistic director and the director here, keeps things moving at a fine clip. Michael Heil’s imaginative set is charming, and Laura Hanson’s costumes, especially the wondrous headgear of Luther and the swellegant coat of Faustus are enthralling. Boehm did his own sound design, and Steve Carmichael is responsible for the lighting.

Who needs sword fights when the brains are the sharpest around?

 

Wittenberg

through February 10

Upstream Theater

The Kranzberg Arts Center

upstreamtheater.org

District Merchants

Overheard at District Merchants on its opening night at The New Jewish Theatre: “Shakespeare​? I didn’t know this was Shakespeare!”

The extraordinary production of Aaron Posner’s play, which riffs on The Merchant of Venice the way Posner did with Chekhov in Life Sucks! (a take on Uncle Vanya), requires no familiarity at all with the older script. He moves the setting to post-Civil War Washington, DC, where the interaction between the Jewish moneylender Shylock and Antoine, a successful merchant whose father had won his freedom from slavery in the War of 1812, is the focus of the story.

Like Shakespeare, Posner’s characters speak directly to the audience, breaking the invisible fourth wall, and inviting us into the world they’re in. This makes for greater intimacy, even in this relatively small venue, although the majesty of the set is altogether fitting and proper. What they deal with on the surface – love, death, honor – is only the beginning. Shakespeare probably never realized he would give us dialogue about stereotypes regarding race, origin and gender. We have all that here, carefully, elegantly brought forward so skillfully that it catches one unaware at some points.

Two St. Louis veterans, Gary Wayne Barker and J. Samuel Davis, play Shylock and Antoine. The characters have done business before, but both are racist, their civility to each other a fragile veneer that cracks quickly. Antoine’s young friend Benjamin (Rob White) needs some cash to woo a young woman in Massachusetts he’s swooning over, and while Antoine’s waiting literally for some ships to come in, he goes to Shylock for a loan he can lend to Benjamin. The collateral? A pound of flesh. Literally. Something could go wrong here….

Shylock’s daughter Jessica (Alicen Moser), strenuously watched over by her father, is on the receiving end of some fine flirtation from a young Irish vegetable merchant (Paul Edwards). Shylock, if he knew, would be horrified. Benjamin’s beloved is Portia (Courtney Bailey Parker), a well-funded orphan who’s attending Harvard Law dressed as a man. Their obstacle is that Benjamin is passing as white, something that’s obvious to Portia’s maid Nessa (Rae Davis), a woman of color, but he says Portia just sees him as swarthy and exotic. As a bonus, Shylock’s butler ((Karl Hawkins) goes gaga for Nessa when she and Portia make an urgent trip to Washington. The impediment here is that he’s illiterate and Nessa is so intellectually agile, he’s blown away – although very far from speechless. Yes, all this does sound like Shakespeare. (He was always a guy who wanted patrons to get their money’s worth.)

Shakespeare’s play has often been considered a comedy; Posner describes District Merchants as “an uneasy comedy”, which is close to the mark. There certainly are some laughs in here, but that’s not the takeaway, nor should it be, to my way of thinking. Barker uses Yiddishisms to good effect, often as humor, but that’s only a small part of a demanding role that he carries with deep feeling. No less emotionally wracking is Davis’ portrayal of Antoine, with a near-visible restraint at some points and glowing warmth at others. This is, to borrow Doris Kearns Goodwin’s book title referring to a group of Washingtonians from six or so years earlier than the play, a true team of rivals, experienced actors working off each other.

Portia, of course, is one of Shakespeare’s great roles for women, and Parker gives a young, strong, true-hearted portrayal. Davis’ Nessa is a worthy companion for Portia’s, alert and pert and self-assured. Rob White’s Benjamin falling for a strong young woman tells us a lot about him, that he’s not intimidated by her brains or her poise, just the question of whether or not to tell her he’s passing. Lancelot, the butler, as played by Hawkins, is a zippy rendition of a character that’s more interesting than one first thinks. While the pairing of Moser’s sheltered Jewish girl and the go-get-’em Irish immigrant from Edwards does evoke Abie’s Irish Rose, it works well, too.

There are several stop-action moments when characters reflect aloud on what’s going on around them and what they’re thinking, and that further draws us into the play. Some of these are particularly worth further mulling after leaving the theater. It’s all drawn together well by director Jacqueline Thompson, who’s overall creation is completely remarkable. Her team includes the creator of the great set, David Blake, Sean Savoie, who gives us the lights, subtle but significant sound from Zoe Sullivan, and Felia Davenport’s costumes, which are as interesting for the men as the women, something that’s often not the case.

It’s an important work to kick off 2019 for the company. Don’t hesitate on this one.

 

District Merchants

through February 10

The New Jewish Theatre

Marvin & Harlene Wool Studio Theatre

Arts & Education Building

Jewish Community Center

2 Millstone Campus Drive

website

2019 Theater Circle Nominees

Here are the nominees for the 2019 Theater Circle Awards. We will announce the winners at the ceremony March 25 at the Rep. Tickets for what's been referred to as "theatre nerd prom" are at Brown Paper Tickets. 

 

Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Comedy
Kari Ely, Into the Breeches!, Shakespeare Festival St. Louis
Carmen Garcia, Luchadora!, Mustard Seed Theatre with Theatre Nuevo
Jennelle Gilreath, The Most Fabulous Story Ever Told, Stray Dog Theatre
Katy Keating, Life Sucks, New Jewish Theatre
Shannon Nara, Red Scare on Sunset, Stray Dog Theatre

Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Comedy
Gary Wayne Barker, Into the Breeches!, Shakespeare Festival St. Louis
Isaiah Di Lorenzo, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, St. Louis Shakespeare
Brad Fraizer, A Christmas Story, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
Stephen Henley, Red Scare on Sunset, Stray Dog Theatre
Carl Overly Jr., Luchadora!, Mustard Seed Theatre with Theatre Nuevo

Outstanding Actress in a Comedy
Sarajane Alverson, Raging Skillet, New Jewish Theatre
Michelle Hand, Into the Breeches!, Shakespeare Festival St. Louis
Nancy Nigh, Every Brilliant Thing, R-S Theatrics
Ruth Pferdehirt, Born Yesterday, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
Heather Sartin, The Great Seduction, West End Players Guild

Outstanding Actor in a Comedy
Will Bonfiglio, Red Scare on Sunset, Stray Dog Theatre
Alan Knoll, An Act of God, New Jewish Theatre
Luke Steingruby, The Most Fabulous Story Ever Told, Stray Dog Theatre
Robert Thibaut, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, St. Louis Shakespeare
Pete Winfrey, The Importance of Being Earnest, Insight Theatre Company

Outstanding Lighting Design in a Play
Rob Lippert, Silent Sky, Insight Theatre Company
Jon Ontiveros, Macbeth: Come Like Shadows, Rebel and Misfits Productions
Peter E. Sargent, A Christmas Story, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
Sean M. Savoie, A Streetcar Named Desire, Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis
Nathan Schroeder, Silent Sky, West End Players Guild

Outstanding Sound Design in a Play
James Blanton, Silent Sky, Insight Theatre Company
Rusty Wandall, A Christmas Story, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
Rusty Wandall, The Humans, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
Amanda Werre, Life Sucks, New Jewish Theatre
Amanda Werre, A Streetcar Named Desire, Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis

Outstanding Costume Design in a Play
Lou Bird, Born Yesterday, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
Megan Harshaw, The Little Foxes, St. Louis Actors’ Studio
Amy Hopkins, Red Scare on Sunset, Stray Dog Theatre
Michele Friedman Siler, Into the Breeches!, Shakespeare Festival St. Louis
Michele Friedman Siler, A Streetcar Named Desire, Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis

Outstanding Set Design in a Play
Dunsi Dai, End of the Rainbow, Max & Louie Productions
Gianni Downs, The Humans, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
Peter and Margery Spack, Blow, Winds, Shakespeare Festival St. Louis
Peter and Margery Spack, Life Sucks, New Jewish Theatre
James Wolk, A Streetcar Named Desire, Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis

Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Drama
Nicole Angeli, Doctor Faustus, or the Modern Prometheus, SATE
Lana Dvorak, A Streetcar Named Desire, Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis
Laurie McConnell, The Little Foxes, St. Louis Actors’ Studio
Jennifer Theby-Quinn, Silent Sky, Insight Theatre Company
Brandi Threatt, Torn Asunder, The Black Rep

Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Drama
Chuck Brinkley, The Little Foxes, St. Louis Actors’ Studio
Ryan Lawson-Maeske, Tribes, St. Louis Actors’ Studio
Thom Niemann, Admissions, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
Spencer Sickmann, A Streetcar Named Desire, Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis
Eric Dean White, The Last Days of Judas Iscariot, Mustard Seed Theatre

Outstanding Actress in a Drama
Elizabeth Birkenmeier, Blackbird, St. Louis Actors’ Studio
Sophia Brown, A Streetcar Named Desire, Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis
Kari Ely, The Little Foxes, St. Louis Actors’ Studio
LaShunda Gardner, Torn Asunder, The Black Rep
Angela Ingersoll, End of the Rainbow, Max & Louie Productions

Outstanding Actor in a Drama
Ron Himes, Fences, The Black Rep
Nick Narcisi, A Streetcar Named Desire, Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis
John Pierson, Blackbird, St. Louis Actors’ Studio
Rob Riordan, New Jerusalem, New Jewish Theatre
David Wassilak, The Dresser, St. Louis Actors’ Studio

Outstanding New Play
Stacie Lents, Run-On Sentence, SATE
Scott Miller, The Zombies of Penzance, New Line Theatre
Nikkole Salter, Torn Asunder, The Black Rep
John Wolbers, Doctor Faustus, or the Modern Prometheus, SATE
Vladimir Zelevinsky, The Great Seduction, West End Players Guild

Outstanding Achievement in Opera
Susan Graham, Regina, Opera Theatre of Saint Louis
Kenneth Overton, Lost in the Stars, Union Avenue Opera
Susanna Phillips, Regina, Opera Theatre of Saint Louis
Patricia Racette, La Traviata, Opera Theatre of Saint Louis
Shaun Patrick Tubbs, Lost in the Stars, Union Avenue Opera

Outstanding Production of an Opera
An American Soldier, Opera Theatre of Saint Louis
L’elisir d’amore, Winter Opera Saint Louis
La Traviata, Opera Theatre of Saint Louis
Lost in the Stars, Union Avenue Opera
Regina, Opera Theatre of Saint Louis

Outstanding Musical Director
Charlie Alterman, Evita, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
Rick Bertone, Jersey Boys, The Muny
Jennifer Buchheit, The Robber Bridegroom, Stray Dog Theatre
Charles Creath, Crowns: A Gospel Musical, The Black Rep
Nicolas Valdez, Anything Goes, New Line Theatre

Outstanding Choreographer
Camille A. Brown, The Wiz, The Muny
Tony Gonzalez, Mamma Mia!, Stages St. Louis
Dana Lewis, Oklahoma!, Stages St. Louis
Rommy Sandhu, Singin’ in the Rain, The Muny
Gustavo Zajac and Mariana Parma, Evita, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis

Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Musical
Joy Boland, Disney’s The Little Mermaid, Variety Theatre
E. Faye Butler, The Wiz, The Muny
Julia Knitel, Gypsy, The Muny
Macia Noorman, The Light in the Piazza, R-S Theatrics
Megan Sikora, Singin’ in the Rain, The Muny

Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Musical
Kent Coffel, The Light in the Piazza, R-S Theatrics
Matthew Curiano, Oklahoma!, Stages St. Louis
Zachary Allen Farmer, The Zombies of Penzance, New Line Theatre
Nathan Lee Graham, The Wiz, The Muny
Sean MacLaughlin, Evita, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis

Outstanding Lighting Design in a Musical
Rob Denton, Jersey Boys, The Muny
Rob Denton, Meet Me in St. Louis, The Muny
Tyler Duenow, Jesus Christ Superstar, Stray Dog Theatre
John Lasiter, Evita, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
Sean M. Savoie, Mamma Mia!, Stages St. Louis

Outstanding Set Design in a Musical
Luke Cantarella, Evita, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
Dunsi Dai, Crowns: A Gospel Musical, The Black Rep
Paul Tate dePoo III, Singin’ in the Rain, The Muny
Michael Schweikardt, Meet Me in St. Louis, The Muny
James Wolk, Mamma Mia!, Stages St. Louis

Outstanding Costume Design in a Musical
Leon Dobkowski, The Wiz, The Muny
Colene Fornachon, Anything Goes, New Line Theatre
Daryl Harris, Crowns: A Gospel Musical, The Black Rep
Robin L. McGee, Jerome Robbins’ Broadway, The Muny
Alejo Vietti, Evita, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis

Outstanding Actress in a Musical
Michelle Aravena, Evita, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
Sarah Ellis, Oklahoma!, Stages St. Louis
Beth Leavel, Gypsy, The Muny
Kay Love, The Light in the Piazza, R-S Theatrics
Sarah Porter, Anything Goes, New Line Theatre

Outstanding Actor in a Musical
Corbin Bleu, Singin’ in the Rain, The Muny
Tielere Cheatem, The Light in the Piazza, R-S Theatrics
Phil Leveling, The Robber Bridegroom, Stray Dog Theatre
Pepe Nufrio, Evita, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
Blake Price, Oklahoma!, Stages St. Louis

Outstanding Ensemble in a Comedy
Into the Breeches!, Shakespeare Festival St. Louis
Life Sucks, New Jewish Theatre
The Most Fabulous Story Ever Told , Stray Dog Theatre
The Realistic Joneses, Rebel and Misfits Productions
Red Scare on Sunset, Stray Dog Theatre

Outstanding Ensemble in a Drama
As It Is in Heaven, Mustard Seed Theatre
The Last Days of Judas Iscariot, Mustard Seed Theatre
The Little Foxes, St. Louis Actors’ Studio
Macbeth: Come Like Shadows, Rebel and Misfits Productions
A Streetcar Named Desire, Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis

Outstanding Ensemble in a Musical
Anything Goes, New Line Theatre
Evita, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
Jerome Robbins’ Broadway, The Muny
The Robber Bridegroom, Stray Dog Theatre
The Zombies of Penzance, New Line Theatre

Outstanding Director of a Comedy
Gary F. Bell, Red Scare on Sunset, Stray Dog Theatre
Nancy Bell, Into the Breeches!, Shakespeare Festival St. Louis
Edward Coffield, Life Sucks, New Jewish Theatre
Pamela Hunt, Born Yesterday, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
Anna Skidis Vargas, Luchadora!, Mustard Seed Theatre with Theatre Nuevo

Outstanding Director of a Drama
Lorna Littleway, Fences, The Black Rep
Bobby Miller, The Dresser, St. Louis Actors’ Studio
Tim Ocel, New Jerusalem, New Jewish Theatre
Tim Ocel, A Streetcar Named Desire, Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis
Annamaria Pileggi, Blackbird, St. Louis Actors’ Studio

Outstanding Director of a Musical
Justin Been, The Robber Bridegroom, Stray Dog Theatre
Linda Kennedy, Crowns: A Gospel Musical, The Black Rep
Scott Miller and Mike Dowdy-Windsor, Anything Goes, New Line Theatre
Josh Rhodes, Jersey Boys, The Muny
Rob Ruggiero, Evita, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis

Outstanding Production of a Comedy
Born Yesterday, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
Into the Breeches!, Shakespeare Festival St. Louis
Life Sucks, New Jewish Theatre
Luchadora!, Mustard Seed Theatre with Theatre Nuevo
Red Scare on Sunset, Stray Dog Theatre

Outstanding Production of a Drama
Blackbird, St. Louis Actors’ Studio
End of the Rainbow, Max & Louie Productions
Fences, The Black Rep
New Jerusalem, New Jewish Theatre
A Streetcar Named Desire, Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis

Outstanding Production of a Musical
Anything Goes, New Line Theatre
Crowns: A Gospel Musical, The Black Rep
Evita, Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
Jersey Boys, The Muny
The Light in the Piazza, R-S Theatrics

Special Awards
The Muny, for its centenniall
Kathleen Sitzer, for lifetime achievement
Steven Woolf, for lifetime achievement