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Review: One Big Secret in One Long Play

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By Michael Block

There are some stories and times that seem to disappear from the mainstream storytelling. One of those comes to life in Sarah Levine Simon and Mihai Grunfeld's The Dressmaker's Secret, presented by The Simon Studio. Set in 1963 Romania, Simon and Grunfeld's drama follows the story of a woman, her son, and the secret she's been harboring for twenty years.
Told in a time of failing trust where secrets and conspiracy are abundant, The Dressmaker's Secret follows the journey of Robi as he searches for the identity of his father, a secret his mother Maria, the dressmaker, has held onto. As Robi goes on the hunt, Maria uncovers the truth behind the past that still haunts her. The story, adapted from the novel by Mihai Grunfeld, is a dizzying soap of period drama. Maria wants to keep her secret. Robi wants to find out said hidden secret. And then we get an odd Romanian Mrs. Robinson subplot between Robi and Maria's confidant Irma. And then we get the more than coincidental return of Maria's old love Robert, which shakes things up even more. But as juicy as this all is, it's the inciting induce by that is more troubling. The inciting incident is the discovery of a photo that happened to be out on the sewing table happens so early and far too easily. Diving a bit deeper into characters and relationships prior to the discovery is greatly desired. Simon and Grunfeld's text is quite old school. The dialogue has a heightened aura that creates a presentational feeling within the characters. It’s not colloquial, just period. No matter how the story shakes up, an incredible amount of cutting is greatly desired. There is a plethora of repeated information that bogs down the pacing. It’s hard to say how to not make the piece predictable, but the way the drama unfolds, it’s easy to know just exactly what is going to happen and when it’s going to happen. It’s inherent to the story.
There was truth and sincerity in Roger Hendricks Simon’s direction. That being said, Simon’s passive direction forced the stakes to feel minimal. The low stakes dimensioned the power of the story. Whether it was in the text or not, The Dressmaker’s Secret was very much a play about coffee and drinking. In nearly every scene, it’s part of Simon’s action, thusly becoming uninteresting and dull. The scenic design from Stephen C. Jones was practical given the multiple locations. With dress form and sewing machine in full view, we were present in Maria’s intimate home. Where Simon found great success were the beats were he allowed the audience to watch, and listen, to Maria sew. The void of dialogue and sounds of the machine spoke volumes of Maria and the world around her. Jones tried to bring nuance to the black box space by hanging oddly shaped picture cutouts of Romania. The spacing of the images made it feel incomplete. They were unnecessary to the story, but if the visuals were greatly desired, there needed to be a complete collage that overwhelmed the walls. Taking on the lighting design as well, Jones’ lighting was too harsh and bright for the mood of the story. Additionally, it illuminated the space in an unfortunate manner as it reflected off of the white and light-colored furniture.
The quartet of actors tried their best to avoid becoming cookie-cutter characters despite the writing. Far and away, the strongest performance came from Caralyn Kozlowki as Irma. Kozlowski has the essence of effortless class and allure. Her character’s twist was easily the biggest surprise and Kozlowski allowed it be revealed beautifully. She kept her secret deep inside. As Maria, Tracy Sallows had to fight the past in a passive way. And yet you felt for her and her storied past. Sallows relationship with Bryan Burton’s Robi was tender but it was Burton, his wide eyes, and Kozlowski who had all the sparks in this play. Though his character was mentioned throughout, Robert S. Gregory as Robert fulfilled the notions of the character. Even through his acts of kindness, Gregory’s Robert was an antagonistic villain.
There is a demographic where this play is certainly appealing. But The Dressmaker’s Secret is just bogged down by its length and its lack of stakes.

Review: No Need to Wait for the Light to Shine

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By Michael Block

Big River, the musical based on Mark Twain's “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn”, has a storied history. It had a muddied first reception in New York in 1985 but took away a wealth of accolades. The musical had a grand return in 2003 in a celebrated revival produced by Roundabout and Deaf West. And now New York City Center brings it back. And the light shines bright. Directed by Lear deBessonet, as part of the Encores series, Big River, in this run. is a simple yet enthralling production with no frills attached.
With a book by William Hauptman and music and lyrics by Roger Miller, Big River is the classic story of Huck Finn, a boy looking for an adventure and Jim, a runaway slave looking for freedom. In their journey down the river, they encounter obstacles and detours that open Huck's eyes to the world. This version of Big River, the production let the music soar and the story take center stage while your imagination ran wild. deBessonet's direction was clean and affective, calling out the emotional journeys as best as the text can allow. But if the barometer for success was the exuberance and excellence of the showstopper "Muddy Water," this production wouldn't have lived up to expectations. Yet the overall production was so strong, it's easy to forgive the lack of super power this number ended up having. Despite that, Miller’s score, performed by The Encores! Orchestra, resonated, bringing out a newfound evocative sentiment. Just listen to “Worlds Apart.” It’s bound to hit you profoundly. Through deBessonet’s staging and Josh Rhodes’ choreography, storytelling was the focal point. The piece moved lithely from beat to beat, bringing the audience along for the journey. With the limitation of space, Rhodes was still able to bring some exciting movement into the musical, namely in “The Boys.” The costumes from Jess Goldstein lived in the period but we’ll all be remembering what he put David Pittu in as The Royal Nonesuch.
photo by Joan Marucs
Despite a wealth of credits, Big River was the vehicle that is bound to help make Nicholas Barasch a household name. His journey as the adventurous kid was something special.  There’s a beautiful purity to Barasch's voice that makes his Huck almost too perfect. He certainly has some room to find the other flavors within the character, both in personality and voice. As Jim, Kyle Scatliffe’s emotional journey was one for the ages. Though Barasch and Scatliffe may not have had the perfect blend vocally, their bond was genuine on stage. Big River is a musical ripe with potential scene stealers. And they certainly found a place here. Charlie Franklin as Tom Sawyer brings charisma and charm as the little troublemaker. The vibrancy and playful mischief worked well against Barasch’s Huck. Similarly, David Pittu as The King and Christopher Sieber as The Duke won the crowd scene after scene, song after song. As the resident clowns in the company, Pittu and Sieber make comedy look second nature. While Mary Jane Wilkes is merely a blip in the story, Lauren Worsham was radiant. Like Worsham, Cass Morgan and Annie Golden took on some minor roles but worked their magic, reminding us why they are theater royalty.
Big River, to some, may be a misunderstood big musical. Between a beautiful score and a classic story, Big River will shine on within the canon of musical theater. New York City Center has done an extraordinary job celebrating this work. If you missed it, cross your fingers there’s a chance for another life.

Block Talk- Episode 8- Emily Owens and Hollis James

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In this episode of Block Talk, I got to sit down and chat with director Emily Owens and playwright Hollis James about their upcoming play Kyle!

They're so excited for Kyle, they're giving Block Talk listeners $5 off tickets with code BLOW at hottrampproductions.com.

To listen to Block Talk, visit and subscribe at iTunes or Soundcloud!

And check out patreon.com/theaterinthenow to learn how you can become a PATRON today!


Review: Never Say Goodbye

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By Michael Block 

Sunset Boulevard is back, marking the fourth Andrew Lloyd Weber musical currently running. But the headline here is not just the triumphant and stunning return of Glenn Close as the iconic Norma Desmond. The real story is the unique, and recently rare, opportunity to hear the score performed by a forty piece orchestra on a Broadway stage. Set against a backdrop of the Hollywood Golden Age, Sunset Boulevard is a production you'll wish would never say goodbye.
photo by Joan Marcus
With music by Andrew Lloyd Webber and book and lyrics by Don Black and Christopher Hampton, Sunset Boulevard is the musical dramatization of the Billy Wilder film of the same name. After a dizzying opening, the stage is set for a Hollywood romantic thriller as Joe Gillis' murdered body hangs, looming from the rafters. Joe Gillis is a screenwriter looking to catch a break. He's in a bit of trouble running from some moneymen and finds himself in the garage of famed screen star Norma Desmond. Upon learning his profession, Norma convinces Joe into assisting her on a script all while she begins to fall for him in an unusual way. As he attempts to distance himself from Norma and her love stronghold, he falls for another woman, Betty Schaeffer, causing Norma to fall deeper into despair. The staging by Lonny Price is sensational. Price uses the simple, yet grand set by James Noone to its full potential. Price and his team insured that the brilliant orchestra was a centerpiece of this production. To capture the mystery and intrigue of Hollywood, lighting designer Mark Henderson's evocative design brought the right marriage of light and shadow. But the subtle inclusion of bringing the house chandeliers into Norma's mansion was a glorious touch.
It's fitting that Sunset Boulevard gets a revival at the Palace as Glenn Close is theatrical royalty. Close gives a master class in performance as the maddened fading star. Mystifying is an understatement. To bring Norma to life, Close went full tilt, incorporating the exquisite costumes designed, originally designed by Anthony Powell, into the physicality of Norma. Most actors just wear a costume as clothing, Glenn Close makes it part of her character. It's easy to get lost with everything that this production brings but Michael Xavier was an incredible leading man. Xavier had the essence of old school charm, it's no wonder it captivated Norma. As the nice girl equally captivated by Joe, Siobhan Dillon's Betty Schaeffer was a bright light. Dillon brought a modern sensibility into Betty, breaking her out of the typical ingénue. It was a strong choice that paid off. With a deep voice and an unwavering loyalty, Fred Johanson found the complexity of Max. Johanson's rich characterization was beautifully understated yet perfectly powerful.
Sunset Boulevard is the show you've been eagerly anticipating. Between Glenn Close and the breathtaking orchestra, you'll never want to say goodbye to this perfect production. It should be noted that the performance I attended was the one where Hillary Clinton was in attendance. She received the first standing ovation of the night before the show. Believe me, I think the audience was willing to give a standing ovation in the middle of the show after "As If We Never Said Goodbye." But fear not, this show earned a round of ovations during the curtain call.

Review: Beardo is Weird-o

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By Michael Block 

Who says musical theater has to be perfectly commercial? If the intent is to make a work of art that's a little outside the box, there is certainly an audience seeking it. That's where Jason Craig and Dave Malloy's Beardo comes in. Presented by Pipeline Theatre Company at St. Johns Lutheran Church in Brooklyn, Beardo is a story of faith and sin, truth and deceit, and a whole lot of weird.
A man has his hand in a hole. He pulls out. He meets a Russian peasant and his family. The man, referred to as Beardo, begins to spew a narrative that destroys the family. He suddenly finds himself within the palace walls in St. Petersburg. He heals the royal son and instantly becomes revered, and slightly feared. He begins to change the way things are done as he has the ear of the Tsar and the intimacy of the Tsarista. And suddenly tsarism is under siege. Though he's never mentioned by name, this unspecified faith healer is Rasputin, a mysterious and troubled anti hero. Beardo is a dangerously evocative musical that is breaking the mold. There's no denying just how weird Beardo is. But there's just nothing out there like it. With words by Jason Craig and music by Dave Malloy, Beardo is an indie-folk-rock Russian fantasia. The text has a modern tongue dripping with vulgarity and filth. And that's what makes Beardo so beautifully weird. But it's not perfect. There are some flaws. A bunch. Some whiffs in the script. Is there room for trimming? Absolutely. The meat of the play happens with the royals but it just takes so long to get there. And that ending? Perhaps it’s best to chalk it up to taste. Beardo defies musical theater norms abundantly, one blistering one being bookending the show without the typical musical numbers. And that is fine, should they be earned. But that ending...There's certainly a commentary within but it strays so far from what had previously been seen that it forces you to scratch your head. It's so out there, the audience wasn't sure whether the blackout truly signified the end. That's not necessarily a good thing.
The Russian surrealistic musical could easily be equated to a southern gothic thriller. And director Ellie Heyman instilled that in her approach. It allowed the piece to somehow feel even more relevant than ever. Heyman's extraordinary direction had purposeful staging. Using an unconventional theater space can have its problems and limitations but Heyman tackled the challenge and overcame it with ease. To say it was daring is an understatement. With a scaffolding jungle and a bit of a raised platform area, the rundown church aesthetic worked wonders for the storytelling. Designed by Carolyn Mraz, the exploratory nature allowed a wonderment of possibility. Again, in the world of limitations, the lighting design by Mary Ellen Stebbins captured the evocative and seductive tone of the piece. Though it just looms over the stage for the entirety of the play, the glowing leg was haunting. Peasant chic and royal rags were at the forefront of Katja Andreiev's costume design. Think for a moment on just how difficult it could be to stage a play or musical in a church. The acoustics alone are a headache. Sound designers Dan Moses Schreier and Joshua Reid and the sound technicians solved the potential woes. And nothing beats that wall of sound during stellar Act I finale. With an orchestra almost solely of strings, an eerie dissonance was highlighted within Malloy's score.
photo by Suzi Sadler
It’s always exciting to see a cast truly embrace their character and have fun with their material. This company certainly had a blast. With a range of vocal stylings to fit the variance within the score, each character was fleshed out within a certain aesthetic. As the titular Beardo, Damon Daunno gave an otherworldly performance. Not only did he embrace Beardo but he made he come alive. Daunno gave the character a seductive hypnosis, casting a spell on anyone he interacted with. Whether fact or alternative fact, when he spewed his wealth of wisdom, you listened intently. Vocally, Daunno matched the folky gruffness of the character. Alex Highsmith takes on Tsarista, highlighting the character as the most grounded in the piece. There is certainly uncertainly and trepidation of this mysterious magic man on the part of Tsarista yet Highsmith finds the strength within the character. While she may not have been the strongest vocalist in the cast, she made up with her acting prowess, emoting through lyric. Willy Appelman’s Tsar was animated and uproarious. Bringing physical humor to the forefront of the role, Appelman often chewed the scenery without stopping the show. It was a smartly calculated comedic performance. While Yusapoof’s arc in Act I needed a little clarity, he becomes a key player as the story progresses. Brian Bock essentially steals the show in Act II with his Black Swan realness. Bock made a strong case for Jason Craig and Dave Malloy to create a spinoff solely for him and that outfit. The remainder of the ensemble did an impeccable job helping to add color to the world, the stand out being Liz Leimkuhler. Don’t be surprised if Leimkuhler gets a call to jump into that other Dave Malloy musical running in Manhattan.
Beardo is a beautiful mess of a musical that knows exactly what it is. And that’s what makes it, well, charming. If you take the show at face value, you’ll likely not get it. If you do a tad bit of research and allow yourself to embrace it for what it is, you’re bound to appreciate it. Embrace the weird. Your mind might be blown.

Review: Love Hurts

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By Michael Block 

Breaking up isn’t easy. There are far too many emotions attached. Especially when hearts are broken. Sure, there are a plethora of reasons for a romantic detachment and it can take time to heal, but you’re bound to go through grief. Presented by Ruddy Productions, Orion, written by Matthew McLachlan is a millennial rom-dram about a moving on from love and finding your worth when closure isn’t necessarily an option.
Gwen has dumped Sam. For space. Or time to find herself. Or because of work. Or it’s all the clichés rolled up into one. Sam isn’t quite taking the break up with ease. He’s hurting, and rightly so. But as Sam tries to move on, he realizes that Gwen still has a hold of his mind and his heart. Sam’s best friend Scott tries to alleviate the pain through his goofy demeanor all while his romance with Abby is thriving. Orion is a story about life after love. Matthew McLachlan has a colloquial way about his words. His dialogue is snappy and deliberate. The characters he has crafted are clear. With the commercial nature of the story and the static staging by Joshua Warr, Orion screams movie. And that’s not a bad thing at all. The play easily transcends its medium. Where the piece did struggle a bit was the structure. Even though we learned some new information in the monologues, they weren’t essential and the content could have been incorporated in a slightly more active way, especially since the clarity of who was on the receiving end of the monologue was not entirely there. They did, however, pay off with the final beat of the play where the words intercepted to tie the piece off nicely with a bow. But the moment that hurt the overall arc of the story as well as some individual narratives was the flashback placement. The scene itself is a glowing highlight of McLachlan’s writing. It’s a beautiful and endearing scene. But by capping off the show with the key information we learn in the scene combined with everything leading up to it, it manages to weaken Sam and turn Gwen into literally the worst person ever, a title she may have already had. We learn in this scene that it was in fact Gwen leading the flirting that got Sam and Gwen together. Combine that with her breaking his heart and immediately finding a new love, she comes off as a selfish character. If this scene is integral, leading the show off with it and then jumping ahead in time to the true scene one allows sympathy to be had for Sam as he battles grief and a broken heart. The scene certainly colors the characters, the writing is brilliant, but Orion still flows without it. The other thing earned by introducing it at the start is the origin of Orion and what it means to the pair.
photo by Justin Chauncey Photography
Matthew McLachlan’s characters jump off the page. We know these people or, perhaps, have been these people. Maybe we’re currently these people. Nevertheless, the characters are relatable. It’s a testament to his writing. Director Joshua Warr took the baton and brought the best, and worst, out of the characters, guiding the company to find the heart, humor, and anguish within each. They are archetypes but they each had their own personal charm. With meticulous clarity given to the relationships, there was never a question of who these individuals were or who they were to one another. Scenic designer Alaina Hernandez created a multifunctional set that allowed Warr to create the distinct locations, including the integral park. But with the transitions playing a big part in the pacing, less would have been more as Warr’s staging was clear without the all accouterments. It did slightly affect movement within the space, recalling just why this piece had that cinematic charm.
Despite being a four character play, Orion was essentially Sam’s journey. As the sad sap Sam, Blake Merriman broke your heart. Merriman reminded you that you’ve likely walked in Sam’s shoes at least once in your life. Merriman could have benefitted by giving Sam a bit more fight as he tries to find a way to walk through the world again without a significant other. Simply due to actions, Gwen is an utterly dislikable character. Gwen wants to have her cake and eat it too, often taking her feelings out on a person she claims to love. As Gwen, Amanda Jones played the text and played it well. By doing so, it was difficult to know the sincerity of the character. Taking on Sam’s best friend Scott, Scott Brieden was pure hilarity. Scott is a loveable goofball with a big heart and Brieden highlighted this trait well. As his girlfriend Abby, Simone Serra matched the charm of Brieden making them the bright light within the darkness of the story.
Orion shines bright and has the potential to glow even brighter. Matthew McLachlan has a strong voice and way with characters, capturing the beautiful complexities of human relationships. If you’ve ever had your heart broken and need a reminder that you’re not alone, Orion is the closure you may need.

Review: The Missouri Show Me The 1980s Childhood Show

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By Ed Malin

The Idaho Jackson Action Playset is a very personal 1980s one-man show by Brad Lawrence now playing in the Frigid Festival. Cyndi Freeman directs this focused ride through the intersection of school fights, lunchboxes, first crushes, nuclear holocaust and AIDS.
Brad Lawrence, wearing a Wilma Deering t-shirt (see: Buck Rogers) gives us a touching, rapid-fire story about his second grade life.  We jump around a bit getting a lot of evocative details until we firmly understand the challenges of being the eighth and youngest child in the family.  Hand-me-down clothing (usually way too big) is a given but this can make a kid feel like he is only a knock-off version of a real child.  “Like a GoBot in a word of Transformers”, if you will.  Like an “Idaho Jackson” Action Figure, a nice joke for those who were children at the time and had Action Jackson toys.
photo by Ryan Collerd
Brad rips through the story of his first kiss and chance to walk a girl home, which was made easier because he was banned from the school bus.  This happened because he hit a bully on the head with a creaky metal Raggedy Ann and Andy lunchbox inherited from a sister.  The replacement lunchbox was a plastic Spiderman item in a very manly shade of yellow.
Then came summertime in Missouri, and the customary but noxious trip to the zoo.  July temperatures are “measured in Kelvins”.  Children vomit regularly, especially when harassed by animals in enclosures with non-realistic environments.  “Not since Pompeii have so many people regretted wearing open-toed sandals.”
Brad ends up spending more time at home, where he is dismayed by TV talk shows about how the suburbs are rife with Satanism.  Even more alarming is the anti-nuclear film “The Day After”.  Being destroyed by nuclear weapons is nothing compared to the plight of Kansas residents who end up surviving.  The one stable factor in Brad’s life is his mother, a traveling insurance evaluator who collects fluid samples from clients.  However, the regular presence of these samples on the family’s dining room table leads to a huge panic about newly-identified HIV/AIDS.  What is the best way to live safely, or at least to feel safe?
Hats off to Lawrence and Freeman for painting such a detailed picture of suburban childhood circa 1983. A lot happens in an hour of memories. If your initial reaction is that this would be a safe and boring story, see the show and take heed.  Who knows, some of the historic concerns in the play, such as a nuclear standoff, may be part of our future.   I am glad that Frigid is back with this thoughtful one-man show.

Review: Wonky Letters of Love

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By Michael Block 

There seems to be new ways to reinvent Shakespeare everyday. Spearheading this movement is Bottoms Dream, an ambitious company that thrives on weaving new interpretations of the Bard's text to create new narratives. In The Bride, their latest weaving, Love’s Labour’s Lost and Much Ado About Nothing get the mashup treatment for a story about, well you guessed it, love.
Playing the Gallery at The Access Theater, The Bride, adapted by Nat Angstrom, takes two of Shakespeare's romances and shakes them up to tell a tale of gender divide after The King of Navarre decides that there is a ban on gender communication while he spends three years at study. As the outlaw is in place, the comedic policing of Dogberry, master constable of The Watch, takes center stage as he has a duty to be done. The Bride is a play for Shakespeare aficionados. In the grand scope of the canon, these two are probably somewhere in the lower middle tier of popularity. That being said, the clarity is not here. It may be best to engage in a quick crash course refresher on the respective texts, character, themes and plots before spending the night at the theater. To bring this new story to life, characters' texts were combined to create new, and occasionally, similar personas. But as the story unfolds, The Bride is not quite a weaving, it's more like patchwork. These aren’t instantly recognizable narratives so throwing a new one into the fold may have been the cause of disconnect. Even if you try to take the piece at face value, the individual arcs of the characters needed more care. Maybe even some sort of dramaturgical program to peruse prior to the production explaining some of the combinations of characters and analysis of the source material as it pertains in this context could have been useful.
photo by Tessa Flannery
Even if you have difficulty following along, where The Bride succeeds is in the consistent physical vocabulary in direction and utilization of instruments and integration of music. Director Doug Durlacher had a strong vision when it came to bringing out what The Bride would look, feel, and sound like. There was an inherent fluidity in his staging. The scenic exploration was transformative for the space. The aesthetic was all there. What was missing was the connection of the material from page to stage. Durlacher’s storytelling needed some finessing. The piece began with the players, all of whom were seen warming up as the audience walked in, setting the stage by removing props and costumes from a trunk center stage. Accompanied by a musical underscore, this prologue was important. It had parts of the narrative within. Again, aesthetically it was gorgeous. It could have been amplified even further to hammer in just how much we needed it. Where The Bride flourished was the use of music throughout. Music is in fact the food of love. With original songs from Mike Lee, Allyson Capetta and the ensemble, its integration elevated the production.
Taking on a plethora of personas, the ten actors found love in the text. And when there is heart in a character, there is an attraction toward the performance. The multi-talented cast showcase their skills from characterization to musicality. The strongest of the bunch included Aleda Bliss as the Princess of France, Katie Fanning as Rosaline, Ella Smith as both Hero and Holofernes, and scribe Nat Angstrom as Dogberry.
The Bride is a new story. And that’s ok. Sometimes it’s exciting to reinvent the wheel. But the execution needs to be exceptionally flawless. Unfortunately the text got bogged down in idea.

Review: Voices of the Past for the Present

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By Michael Block

American Bard Theater Company brings three one acts from the past and presents them in the present for an evening of relevance. Uniting the works of Susan Glaspell and Marita Bonner, Visionary Voices: 2 Women Writers, 3 Big Stories is a celebration of important works for today.
Kicking off the evening is Trifles by Susan Glaspell and directed by Aimee Todoroff. Possibly Glaspell's most revered work, Trifles recounts the strangulation murder of Mr. Wright, presumably by his wife Minnie. Trying to find clues, the county attorney, Mr. Hale, and Mr. Peters examine the upstairs of the house leaving Mrs. Peters and Mrs. Hale alone downstairs. As they wait, they come across a dead canary, leading the ladies to believe Mrs. Wright may have in fact done the crime. This one act is mystery at its core. There is immense intrigue but Todoroff needed to help heighten the stakes by amount up the pacing and fear. There was an ominous feeling, assisted by the atmospheric sounds from Matthew Fischer, but as a whole, the piece was lacking. There is inherent strength in Mrs. Peters and Mrs. Hale, yet Mel Houe and Cheri Wicks didn't quite pull it out of them as much as they could have.
photo by Basil Rodericks
The next piece up was Exit: An Illusion by Marita Bonner. Directed by Tonya Pinkins, Exit: An Illusion is a dangerous tale about colorism and sexism. Dot is on her way out for a date with a guy called Exit Mann but Buddy is furious at the though. Through a rage-filled rant from a visibly jealous Buddy, Dot insists on going despite her frail state. Playing like a surrealistic nightmare, this drama pulls the fear out within us all. Pinkins capitalized upon this. Where Exit: An Illusion could have been a bit stronger was through its lighting. This play is almost a blank canvas of possibility. When the piece is directed in the manner as it was, Christopher Weston's design was not as strong as it could have been. It was too noticeable. Perhaps a practical lamp or too could have allowed more light to shine without risking the full stage flush. If your focus gets pulled by the lights, it draws attention away from the story. As Dot, Morgan McGuire was a sultry rag doll, thrown around by the powerful force of T. Morgan as Buddy.
Closing out the night was a play of hope in a time of disparity. Glaspell's The People follow the titular newspaper on the verge of closing. As the news blows in the wind, a cavalcade of characters in a cornucopia of costumes arrives to share their voice and save the paper. With an important message deep within the text, the cartoonish nature of the narrative allowed for fun to be had. Directed by Todoroff, each character was given a clear and consistent identity. Through a structural lens you almost wish Glaspell could get another pass at her text but Todoroff highlighted the themes with ease. With twelve in the cast, staging all those bodies with one true entrance into the office could have been a headache but Todoroff pulled it off. Cheri Wicks as The Woman left you with a sense of triumph with her momentous monologue.
Visionary Voices was ambitious in the sense that this was three different plays needing three different worlds. Wonder how you create three distinct looks for three very different plays? Ask Zhao Mingshuo. Visionary Voices was a scenic triumph. How Mingshuo made it work was extraordinary. From a Nebraska farm house to a tiny apartment in Chicago to the office of a newspaper, the design allowed each world have it’s own temperature and pallet. Sure, it may not have been the cleanest in execution but it was visionary!
American Bard Theater Company has provided an important night of art for two important voice in American literature. Celebrating these texts of the brilliant women is wonderful. Visionary Voices just needed a little more polish.

Review: Outside the Box

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By Michael Block

Let's not bury the lead. The Object Lesson is an extraordinary work of art. New York Theatre Workshop is known for taking risks. The Object Lesson is a giant risk. One that paid dividends. Created and performed by Geoff Sobelle, this immersive art piece takes you on a journey through objects that make us, us.
When you look at your ticket and see "general admission," you know something exciting is waiting inside. As you enter New York Theatre Workshop, the earlier the better I advise, be prepared to see the space covered in cardboard boxes and a items of the past in every nook and cranny. You're encouraged to interact with the space. Pass along boxes. Sit on others. Through your exploration, you're bound to interact with fellow theatergoers about the experience to come. As you begin to settle into your space within the space, take notice of who you're talking to as you might just be conversing with Sobelle himself. He might share an anecdote about a boxed labeled "Kafka" featuring a cockroach in a bed. Without warning, the center of the room begins to take shape. Through illusion, clowning, and storytelling, the installation piece becomes a jungle gym of wonderment. From there, Sobelle is behind the wheel of The Object Lesson. Broken up into various vignettes throughout the room, often featuring participation from the crowd, Sobelle shares memories propelled by the items he finds or searches for. The nature of the show allows you to have your own personal experience along with the piece. You are allowed to move around. You may interact and be an active participant. Or you can passively sit back and watch. Through story and design, there is a constant theme that recurs in the form of various lights and trinkets. Despite being many stories, it helps to tie the event together. Sobelle’s innate skills for storytelling are on display here. Whether aided by microphone or simply speaking unamplified, Sobelle’s narratives are captivating. He has a natural sentimentality in his voice. It’s soothing. So soothing that his meditative cadence could get you to nod off for a moment. But that could be because there are certain beats that drag on a bit too long. Especially when the pay off is eventually revealed. See that first phone call. But when the gimmick of said first call is uncovered, it’s bound to make you grin.
Director David Neumann guided Sobelle through the room of boxes and paraphernalia. The staging is intricate and precise. Every moment is well calculated. The scenic installation designed by Steven Dufala is planned clutter. At first glance, the space looks like an episode of “Hoarders,” but there is a method to Dufala’s madness. It’s overwhelming. There’s a natural intimacy to this world of boxes. But when the space reaches capacity, there’s a sense that perhaps there are too many people within the experience. The freedom to move is a bit restricted. But don’t worry if you fear that Sobelle can’t move around. Oh he can. He has no worries about moving you around. With attention to detail so important, hitting the mark was essential. The lighting design from Christopher Kuhl was mostly comprised of atmospheric practical lights. If you look up, there are very few theatrical lights in the sky. Just the essentials. Neumann and his team have provided an experience that you can only see to believe.
Geoff Sobelle’s The Object Lesson is overwhelming, just like our own lives. Whether you take Sobelle’s stories at face value or find yourself in the tales, The Object Lesson is continuing to remind audiences the diversity when it comes to how theater can be made and told. If you are fearful of immersive experiences, let The Object Lesson be your way in.

Block Talk- Episode 9- Ryan Farnsworth

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Today on Block Talk, we sat down with Ryan Farnsworth to talk about his time on the Beautiful tour, his new podcast Singer Stories, and sports!

To listen to Block Talk, visit iTunes or Soundcloud and make sure to subscribe today!

And be sure to visit patreon.com/theaterinthenow to learn the benefits of becoming a Patron of Theater in the Now!

Spotlight On...Jeff Talbott

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Name: Jeff Talbott

Hometown: Kimball, NE

Education: BFA (University of Nebraska), MFA (Yale School of Drama)

Favorite Credits: The Submission (MCC Theater)

Why theater?: Because now, more than ever it seems, we need a place to gather to have a conversation about how we talk to and about each other, and maybe how we make this place we share slightly better, together.

Tell us about The Gravedigger’s Lullaby: It’s a play about a gravedigger.  It’s a play about a marriage.  It’s a play about a poor man and a rich man trying to find common ground.  It’s a play about finding the grace to get up tomorrow and give it all a shot again.

What inspired you to write The Gravedigger’s Lullaby?: I write when I’m trying to figure something out; in this case, I was trying to figure out how to navigate difficult conversations I was continuously failing at trying to talk about the disparity between the people who have a lot in the world and the people who have not enough.  And once I started writing that, I realized I was also writing about a family.

What kind of theater speaks to you? What or who inspires you as an artist?: I like all sorts of theatre; I particularly like to be challenged when I see a play to consider how I feel about what’s happening onstage.  I engage actively as an audience member, and try to encourage the same as a writer.  I am constantly inspired by other artists, and draw my strength and inspiration from them – particularly my friends who are out there making great and exciting things in the world.

If you could work with anyone you’ve yet to work with, who would it be?: This list is too big and would break the internet.

What show have you recommended to your friends?: So many – Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 is currently on that list.  But there’s a lot of great theatre out there right now.  See a play.  I mean, like tonight.  I mean, like right now.

Who would play you in a movie about yourself and what would it be called?: A young(er) John Lithgow or Tracy Letts, probably; let’s call it: "So, What Happens Now?"

If you could go back in time and see any play or musical you missed, what would it be?: So many . . . oh! I love Ibsen – what about going back and seeing that first production of, say, A Doll’s House or Ghosts?  What was that like?

What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?:  Trader Joe’s Coconut Cashews; or basically anything from TJ’s. . . while watching "Please Like Me" over and over.

If you weren’t working in theater, you would be _____?: Wondering how I could get a job working in theatre (sad but true).

What’s up next?: The Gravedigger’s Lullaby runs through April 1; currently working on a commission for a new play at Montclair University in NJ.  Some other things going on that I can’t share yet, but soon . . . (he’s so mysterious).

For more on Jeff, visit www.jefftalbott.com

Review: In Search of the Artsy Women of Dada

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By Ed Malin

Untitled Theatre Collective has brought An Evening Conference On Feminism & Equality At Large At The Fantabulosa Esoteric Cabaret Dada to Frigid NY.  It is 100 years and counting since Dada emerged in Switzerland as an avant-garde response to the horrors of World War I and bourgeois life. This show is written and directed by Lucca Damilano (using original Dada texts, I should add) and stars five provocatively made-up female performers: Alexa Welsh, Belinda Adam, Sarah Gwynne Walker, Talia Moreta, and Lorraine Tai.  Moreta and Tai provided the choreography which invigorates this pageant of poetry and obscenities. I was quite intrigued by this production, which channels the irrationality of Dada the way I suspect the troupe does on a regular basis, judging by its name.
photo by Lorraine Tai
In the darkness of the theater, a gunshot is heard.  Thus we begin with classic references to Dada, the anger, the spontaneity, the resistance to all that had come before.  The five female performers spend the next hour in verbal battles (or simultaneous reciting of key texts), singing and dance.  In the background can be seen hypnotic, oscillating images, including several poems by Marcel Duchamp arranged in rotating form.  Over Ravel’s 1928 composition “Bolero”, the cast recites Hugo Ball’s Dada Manifesto.  The original texts are not credited.  The show states it focuses on the “female innovators” of Dada, so I would definitely have liked to hear more about their contributions to this piece.   The finale, a song with the refrain “Patience is a Virgin”, felt fresh and urgent.  Did a woman write this intriguing song?
I happen to know that Emmy Hennings (wife of Hugo Ball) and Sophie Taeuber (wife of Jean Arp) were major players in the movement.  The odds are that they came up with all the ideas.  I am craving such clarity.  The current Francis Picabia exhibition at the MoMA includes two films from the era which do not empower women at all.  However, MoMA’s recent Dadaglobe exhibition suggests that Tristan Tzara’s circle was more accepting of women who wanted to destroy complacency.  (“A prison is not a prison if you want to be there.”)
The show continues with a face-off between a Singer sewing machine and the best in typewriters.  A recipe featuring bulghur wheat contrasts with more stream-of-conscious poetry.  We even get to hear someone’s view that bad art is not the issue, rather bourgeois oversimplification.   At the very end, the cast consult the show program and applaud as though they had just seen the show.
An Evening Conference On Feminism & Equality At Large At The Fantabulosa Esoteric Cabaret Dada is a brave and fascinating evening of theater.  Given the collapse of our world order, we may need the lessons of this movement.  I hope this show inspires more interest in revolutionary art from the women of the famous Cabaret Voltaire and beyond.

Review: Meetings With Remarkable Men And Where To Find Them

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By Ed Malin

Christina Augello takes us on an adventure in Denial Is A Wonderful Thing, which she co-wrote with John Caldon.  Ryan Marchand directs.
In this quite personal, multi-continental story, Christina seems to be telling us her secret for staying agelessly beautiful.  In Mumbai, she meets an intriguing gentleman named Kim.  Kim, an Australian, is half Aborigine and half Scottish and has faced discrimination.  He informs Christina that Fosters is not a good beer, and keeps making sense after that.  As they enjoy less than 48 hours of the end of their foreign travels together, the two feel like they have known each other forever. Here the narrative masterfully jumps around to Christina’s childhood with her Sicilian family in Buffalo.  Her father (who she would later learn was her stepfather who married her mother when she was four) ran a popular restaurant.  Back then, the police and the bad guys were pretty much the same. Buffalo was a theater town, where denial is a wonderful thing. Her parents loved each other so much, they commissioned a portrait which hung in their home.  If you came home and the portrait was off the wall, they were having a fight. We also spend many exciting times in San Francisco in the 1960s, with plenty of hitchhiking, mind-altering substances and romance on the road.  So much, in fact that when Christina is given the opportunity to go to Woodstock in 1969 she turns it down.
photo by Steven Crouch
Many things pull Christina to Northern Australia, home of all sixteen of the world’s poisonous snakes as well as Kim.  It is a country where at the time of Kim’s birth, the government would take half-white and half-aboriginal children away from their mothers.  Kim’s mother fled so she could raise her child herself.  In some ways, the frontier-type places Kim takes Christina haven’t changed enough.  The outback adventures blend back into tales of Hippie Hill, San Francisco, which gradually lost its innocence.  Christina also talks about meeting her biological father, a DEA agent.  What is the best way to balance intensity, denial and happiness?
I looked at my watch and suddenly realized an hour had passed.  It takes a sincere storyteller to accomplish what Christina Augello has done.  And it’s apparently her first original solo show creation, produced by EXIT Theatre, the San-Francisco co-founder of Frigid Festival.   You can learn a lot about joie de vivre, several laid-back but vanished ways of life, and the great, unexpected adventures about to begin.

Review: A Dark Play That Will Wake You Up

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By Ed Malin

Puss N Puss Productions has brought to this year’s Frigid Festival the most scarily intriguing play title I can remember: How to Sell Your Gang Rape Baby For Parts.  Co-stars Ali Ayala and Libby Emmons wrote the play, which is gloriously directed by Michele Travis. My guess is that the name of the company (and the names of the characters, who both call each other “Puss”) come from resistance to the current administration and what the Commander In Chief stated he likes to grab.  This is indeed a play about liberation.
I hope this makes you want to see the show more.  You really should see it this weekend at The Kraine. The really great thing about this show (which starts off as an understated chat between Human Resources co-workers Ali and Libby) is the acknowledgment that life has become a bit overwhelming.  We are clearly in New York, some time after the 2016 election, in an office where people do work they don’t like, and where the management subjects the staff to mandatory team-building exercises at Chelsea Piers. (“Since when is HR part of the team?”)  Horrible things happen all the time, and it takes just an extra bit of motivation to respond to them.  Ali and Libby are very honest with each other about picking their battles.  At one point they quip that since they are women under this regime, life already sucks.  “Do you think more estrogen would make me a better/nicer woman?” receives the answer “no.”
They have an unseen co-worker who is reportedly eating away her troubles in the break room.  Oh no, she isn’t just eating for herself; she recently went to a party where she was gang raped by an entire football team.  Soon, she will give birth to a gang rape baby.  This is one more massively terrible thing which should not be excused away for any reason.  Even if the victim was politically incorrect?  “Why did she vote for Trump if she didn’t want to get raped?”  The gray area turns the tables and gives us lots of jokes I never thought I’d laugh at.  What will it take for the women of this office to band together?  Times are indeed almost unbearable, so Libby again tries to blame the victim.  “Everyone gets raped; the least you can do is be on the pill.”
While Ali ponders why their boss, who is transitioning from male to female, has strongly counseled the victim to abort her pregnancy (“maternity leave is too expensive”), Libby sees a silver lining.  If the baby is carried to term, it can be sold to interested parents.  This dream is shattered when they realize that the football team was not all white. Yes, the dark humor goes even deeper.  For, imagine what Libby and Ali (now her partner in the deal) could make from selling the organs of the fetus?  If you had a blind child, what would you pay for a gang rape baby’s eyes? Libby and Ali mean well.  Libby, whose husband recently died and has been excused from being in life-affirming situations, would love to quit her job.  Ali wants some body modification: you guessed it, the “ass  fat boob job”.  Is it “cannibalism or upcycling”? I really shouldn’t tell you if they succeed with their plans or not.  Success would take on a whole new meaning. All involved have great chemistry and a real knack for delivering lines that would be repulsive or at least very depressing. I’m sure you will want to stop the madness and work against any world order where this story would really happen.


Block Talk- Episode 10- Tom Block

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On a special #BlockOnBlockTalk episode, I spoke with Tom Block, founder of the International Human Rights Art Festival coming this weekend to Dixon Place!

The International Human Rights Art Festival runs March 3rd-5th at Dixon Place. To learn more, visit http://dixonplace.org/performances/the-international-human-rights-art-festival/

To listen, visit iTunes or SoundCloud and make sure to subscribe to never miss an episode!

Interested in becoming a Patron of Theater in the Now? Visit patreon.com/theaterinthenow to learn about all the benefits!


Review: Petra' Love Breakdown

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By Michael Block 

Love can make a person go crazy. To the point of an emotional breakdown. Just ask the titular character in Rainer Werner Fassbinder's The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant. Produced by Third Space at The New Ohio, this dark comedy is a wild ride that will leave you on edge, especially if there's an inkling you can relate and latch onto.
The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant has a storied history. First a play then a film and now back on stage, Rainer Werner Fassbinder's piece explores the explosive relationships between Petra, a prominent fashion designer, and the various women in her life. Layered with manic chaos and mental breakdowns, Petra finds a deep love and admiration for Karin, a youthful brat of a model trapped in a loveless marriage. Offering her full attention, intimacy, and any object she desires, Petra does whatever it takes to keep Karin with her despite her ill treatment toward Petra. Using her for her connections in the fashion world and her endless wealth, Karin flees when she learns her husband wants her back, thrusting Petra into a downward spiral of emotion. Despite being an established text, there is a new ending unfamiliar to the original play or film. And it packs quite a punch, solidifying this as Marlene's story. The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant is all about the help. Despite having literally no lines, Marlene is by far the most active and revealing of all characters in the play. Director Benjamin Viertel ensured this by highlighting her when she was not physically in the moment but on the outskirts of the playing space. Tracking Marlene's journey through love and admiration, the devoted servant is emotionally beaten down, bringing one style of comedy into the piece. But it's juxtaposed to some realism that seems to have no place in this world. And much of this is due to pacing. This is comedy and comedy needs to be fast. The first half of the show is anything but. Fassbinder's text, translated by David Tushingham, is problematic but Viertel had a plethora of missed opportunities to infuse a genuine and consistent style. The piece is surrealistic by nature so not matching this in vision causes a disconnect. But when Viertel does embrace the style, the play is at its best. Viertel has asked scenic designer Bryce Cutler to give him a world of challenges when it came to the set. For a large portion of the show, the only real seating location in the main playing space was the pink plush sheets, aslo known as the ground. Petra's fortress is visually unique and stunning but it can be a trap for Viertel and his staging. As a whole, the direction was a bit clunky and unhinged. Keeping the sides visible, which happen to be the home of incoming props, it allowed for Marlene to have her active break moments capture more of her story. There's a give and take when it comes artistic choices. To see Marlene, the lights must be present. As we see at numerous points, when lighting designer Mary Ellen Stebbins removes those side lights, she provides a stunning landscape of color, introducing a rainbow of colors, offering a different color mood for each beat of Petra's breakdown. Costumes can make a show and Emily Chalmers' design was nothing short of a fashion show. Each outfit matched the personalities of the individuals.
It may be a stretch but the dynamic between Petra and Marlene was reminiscent of Norma and Max. In a way, this was Sunset Boulevard for fashion. But the Norma wasn't the focus in this equation. As Marlene, Alex Spieth gave an outstanding performance. You might have been worried that Spieth was going to hurt herself on the fabric as she ran herself ramped, but her commedia told a complete story. Opposite her, Caroline Gombe's erratic performance needed more control. Petra is a complex person but when there's a lack of arc in her madness, it becomes predictable. Taking on the life of the privileged and undeserving, Betsey Brown made Karin the antagonist you wanted to crumble. The hierarchy of dislike from Karin to Petra allowed the admiration of Marlene to pop.
The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant is a wild trip through madness that goes off the rails. And it’s a shame because there’s so much good inside.

Review: Ohm No!

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By Michael Block 

Bed and breakfasts are often known for offering peace, quiet, and an escape from reality. But what if your B&B was sitting on something a little explosive? As part of the 2017 Frigid Festival, Sienna’s Mantram or (a Change of Pace at China Lake) by Zach Stephens is an explosive conspiracy comedy that will get you questioning your own existence.
photo by August Belfiglio
A conspiracy theorist, a thrill seeker, a couple on the rocks, and a gay looking for serenity arrive at a bed and breakfast in the Mojave. It's not the set up of a joke but the premise of Sienna's Mantram. As the guests look over some reading material on the brochure, they learn the frightening history of the getaway. They also soon become aware of what is described as a film shoot for another "Lawrence of Arabia," but the sound effects don't seem to line up. The more they speculate, the more they fear the terror and reality. Sienna's Mantram is an inherently twisted dark comedy. Stephens has planted a seed for something exciting. It's almost like watching a modern day adult "Scooby Doo Mysteries." Should he want to expand and look at some restructuring, especially when it comes to the dual introductory scenes, Sienna's Mantram can be a hoot. There's also even more room to build upon the characters and their personal conflicts within the broader scope of the piece. Perhaps opening the play with couple Charlie and Ingrid in a prologue type scene can not only introduce them and their wants and desires but neatly introduce the world we're about to visit. In a sense, they are our eyes into this play.
But there was something not quite right in this production. Whether it was the time restrictions of the festival or a disconnect in visionary intent, the text from the page didn't match the action on the stage. Sienna's Mantram should be a laugh riot but director Kelly Webb seemed to go for something a bit more dramatic through the darkness. The scenario is plausibly ridiculous but the characters played it quite straight. Well, three-fifths of the cast did. Perhaps it comes to casting but the gentlemen of the cast, Zach Stephens and James Arthurt, took on big, broad comedy while the ladies did not. It felt as if they lived in different worlds. The more interesting choice is big, broad comedy. Throw in more physical comedy and this can be achieved but not all actors seemed to be well-versed in this brand of comedy.
Sienna’s Mantram has all the makings of a poignant and visceral twisted comedy that lends itself to today. It just needs a bit of finessing and clarity. But when it gets there, be afraid. Zach Stephens will scare you.

Review: Bringing the Past to the Present to Change the Future

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By Michael Block 

When it comes to LGBT history, there seems to be some important stories and events that haven't quite impacted LGBT Millennials. They’re lost in time. The tragic mass shooting in June at Pulse, a gay night club in Orlando, allowed the tragic events at the UpStairs Lounge in New Orleans in 1973 to resurface and inform the uninformed. Using the idea of the present learning about the past is the jumping off point of Max Vernon's astonishing The View UpStairs. Present and past intermingle in a time travel story where a young gay man is about to tear down the historic club until the souls of the victims teach him an important lesson.
photo by Kurt Sneddon
It's hard to sell the plot without it sounding gimmicky. If you can get past the device, Max Vernon offers a unique perspective to tell a tragic story in LGBT history. Inspired by a heartbreaking true story, The View UpStairs follows Wes, a young gay man back in New Orleans, who purchases a building in the French Quarter that he plans to transform into a night club. After stepping foot into his future, he’s suddenly thrust back into the past. Specifically the night of Sunday, June 24th, 1973. Wes begins to interact with the lively lot as he learns of the space he wants to tear down and the hardships of being a gay man in a time of least acceptance. Between knowing the inspiration and the glimmer of foreshadow, the musical ultimately ends with the tragic event of a deliberate arson attack. Max Vernon has scripted an exceptional story with effortless characters that exudes life and love. There’s heartbreak. There’s joy. There’s anger. There’s tenderness. Vernon has managed to provide a spectrum of emotion that will not only entertain, but also influence you. He has invited the audience to have a conversation when the show concludes. There’s a strong sense of hope through the tragedy. Vernon maintains that the modern cliché holds true. It can get better. And it will get better. Setting himself up for potential traps, the libretto has some holes. But some of these dramaturgical things can easily be patched up. Most prominently, consistency when it comes to the rules of the world is necessary. Wes seems to acknowledge the time travel at times and then forget it at points of convenience. The patrons of the UpStairs Lounge sometimes seem to be clairvoyant and other times oblivious to Wes and his presence in their past. It’s a tricky world to create but Vernon can undoubtedly overcome the problems to bring this musical to the next level. The characters that Vernon has crafted are vibrant, leaping off the page. Vernon does exemplify a lot of the "bad" in the modern gay community through Wes but with a beautiful message of hope in the end, perhaps Vernon can instill just the slightest change for gays of today. You eventually learn to love Wes but it takes a lot of time to warm up to him simply due the actions being reminiscent of the social media obsessed youth of today. Even when stereotypes come into play, it’s the personal relationships that are formed that keep this musical afloat. Vernon has proficiently created characters you not only can relate to but care for. When it’s their time to ultimately go, you can’t help but feel sad. His score, ranging from period pop, rock, and funk, soars, keeping the groove vibrant.
The View UpStairs thrives thanks to the community within. The characters have their escape where they can feel pride. And each individual in this company bursts with pride. As Wes, Jeremy Pope didn’t have the strongest of voices but certainly made up for it in character. Pope’s passion as Wes allowed him to grow, advocating for change. As the token hot and sexy love interest, it’s safe to say that Taylor Frey was perfectly cast. Frey, in a breakout performance, was charming and affable. With a million dollar smile and voice to match, Frey found the beauty within Patrick, the ultimately nameless victim. Frey and Pope had a unique bond. It was a syrupy relationship. As the keeper of the keys, tickling the ivories, Randy Redd’s Buddy was one of the most complex and raw characters in the text. Redd left you wanting more from Buddy. Easing into an uproarious campy performance, Nathan Lee Graham was a chameleon of the stage. He switched from scene stealing diva to fading into the background. It’s a sign of a strong performer knowing when to be on. Graham’s Willie was the social butterfly you wanted to sip cocktails with. Frenchie Davis as bar owner Henri gave her heart and soul, showcasing her powerhouse instrument. Davis had a captivating grip on Henri, allowing the walls to come down to reveal a striking susceptibility. Michael Longoria as Freddy was a riot. As the resident drag queen, Longoria pulled out all the stops. Ben Mayne went beyond making Dale just the weird hustler that roams the bar looking for a lifeline. Mayne made you worry about Dale. He made you care about Dale. He made you wish “Better Than Silence” was placed a bit earlier in the show. But most importantly, Mayne made you sympathize with Dale despite his actions. And that is no easy feat.
photo by Kurt Sneddon
Let it be said, The View UpStairs is a great work but what set this musical apart is the magnificent production design. You needed to feel apart of this world and director Scott Ebersold and his creative team went above and beyond. Upon walking into the Lynn Redgrave Theater at Culture Project, you’re thrust into the UpStairs Lounge. Scenic designer Jason Sherwood completely transformed the space. The atmosphere is alive. You may have watched as the cast of characters mixed and mingled as the night drew closer to commencing but if you looked around at the intricacies and details in the set dressing, you’ll note just how deep Sherwood went to making this foreign place feel welcoming. String lights wrap around the poles. Streamers hang low. An array of hanging lamps cast warm glows down. Beer bottles line the ceiling. Neon beer signs illuminate the room. Newspapers, books, and an hotchpotch of nostalgia laden trinkets cover every single nook and cranny. Every single square inch of the space was calculated. It’s as immersive as you can get with this sort of play. The lighting design by Brian Tovar was breathtaking. Between the bursts of color to filling the space with haze in order to highlight the beams of light coming from the flashlights, Tovar assisted in making this world mesmerizing. Costume designers love period pieces. There’s fun to be had. Costume designer Anita Yavich fulfilled the fun by dressing the company in retro wear. Wes may have made the dress for Freddy in the show but Yavich showcased the makeshift eleganza. Al Blackstone’s choreography added to the fun quota, encompassing the entirety of the space. Ebersold brought a community together within the show but he also did so to create the show.
Stories will never die and this show will surely live on. Max Vernon is the voice of the future. This incarnation of The View UpStairs is not perfect. But it’s absolutely a must see. It’s a must see because you want to brag that you saw it before it become a monster smash hit.

Spotlight On...Christian Polanco

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Name: Christian Polanco

Hometown: Brooklyn, NY

Education: College of Staten Island - Computer Science Major

Select Credits: Univision, MTV, Above Average

Why theater?: I was actually not very interested in theatre when I was younger. I didn't do much public performing because I was very shy, but after college, I started doing stand-up comedy and that got the ball rolling. After performing for a few years, I started acting a lot more and filming comedy sketches. It started to become a thing I didn't realize I would enjoy very much and now I jump at most opportunities to act in great projects.

Who do you play in Kyle?: I play three roles actually. Frenchy, Hector, and Chad. All people who help Jack with his cocaine addiction in different ways.

Tell us about Kyle: I am enjoying Kyle a lot! The play is really funny and interesting to me since I grew up terrified of drugs and avoided it constantly. Basically, I was not a cool kid. I think people will get to see what being a functional cocaine addict can look like and how it can effect the people around you.

What is it like being a part of Kyle?: I love working with everyone on the show. I had never met most of the cast, but after a few weeks working together, it feels like we've known each other for years. I worked with Hollis on his web series, Teachers Lounge. He's a great dude and has helped me a lot. He's like a hip older brother who knows way too much about cocaine.

What kind of theater speaks to you? What or who inspires you as an artist?: I watch a lot of one-person shows, so I think those resonate with me the most since I am a stand-up comedian. I just love sincere and honest work, so any kind of production that includes that, I support.

Any roles you’re dying to play?: Any role in a Tarantino film!

What’s your favorite showtune?: I don't have one. I know basically nothing about musicals, but I enjoy watching them. Am I kicked out of acting? Is "Bad & Boujee" a showtune??

If you could work with anyone you’ve yet to work with, who would it be?: Judd Apatow

Who would play you in a movie about yourself and what would it be called?: Michael Cera in "A Boy With Very Little Confidence"

If you could go back in time and see any play or musical you missed, what would it be?: Oh boy. Did I mention my lack of knowledge about theater?

What show have you recommended to your friends?: Lately, "The Americans."

What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?: Binge watching any Netflix show. Imagine what I could have accomplished with that time!

What’s up next?: I do stand-up comedy regularly in NYC and I also host a comedic soccer podcast and youtube channel called The Cooligans. It's a fun project that I put a lot of time in to because soccer is the future of America and we can all use a little humor in that sport as well.

For more on Kyle, visit www.HotTrampProductions.com
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