Down the Road

InHouse Theatre is a company birthed from Lab, a performing arts group rooted in individual initiative, void of designated "teachers," spearheaded by Raphael Sbarge. It's inspiring to watch companies emerge this way because usually everyone on board is in it to win it and willing to go above and beyond to simply put in the work, something that can be unfortunately lacking in other auditioned theatre groups. InHouse also keeps a tradition of putting on site-specific pieces. You purchase a ticket to the production and you know the general neighborhood the performance will take place in, but they don't send you the address until two days before the show. 

This three person drama features the acting of Elizabeth Schmidt, Rob Welsh and Bryce McBratnie. Directed by Drew Rausch.

This weekend, three of my favorite champions of the American theatre joined me for InHouse's production of Down the Road by Lee Blessing. Candace the actor, her husband Patrick the engineer and Ashley, the theatrical agent. Candace, Pat and I were already InHouse fans, having visited their last production of Dinner With Friends by Donald Margulies at the historic Moncado Mansion in West Adams earlier in the fall. After having such a wonderful time at that show, we were looking forward to this new experience and sharing the world of InHouse with Ashley.

At the space somewhere in the Hollywood area (around Santa Monica & Western) about fifty or so patrons were packed next to each other amongst two arrangements of seats facing each other in the playing space. Physically it was simultaneously special and uncomfortable, which worked in favor of this storytelling. We could not always see everything from where we were sitting, but I think that also worked to the style's advantage. To our left was the interrogation room at a penitentiary. To our right was a seedy motel room, theatrically geographically not far from the jail. The story revolves around Iris (Elizabeth Schmidt) and Dan Henniman (Rob Welsh), two investigative nonfiction writers, currently working on completing a memoir/"why I did it" novel about serial killer William Reach (Bryce McBratnie). As they continue to question the motives and background of Reach, the strength of their marriage is also questioned. Power shifts as we begin to contemplate the lengths someone will take to be unforgettable.

McBratnie is excellent as the murderer/killer. When we were first introduced to his character as he interviewed with Dan at the table, I was caught off guard. He was calm, patient, relaxed and had a great disposition. He was amiable, almost chipper. Charming. I wrote down, "I don't know if this approach is going to work." But his eye contact was unyielding, as my companions would later agree with this observation. And the willingness and near delight he found in elaborating on the gruesome acts he inflicted on 19+ women allowed for a terrifying gradual reveal of just how messed up the character is. Just, this actor did a really nice job, very honest energy. As a whole, through Drew Rausch's innovative direction, the actors succeed captivating us in the scenes with them so intently, that all it took for a large percentage of the audience to jump in their seats was a committed bang of the cuffs against the iron table.

Up close and personal. For both the audience and the characters. 

Personally, the Dinner With Friends experience was more my cup of tea: Donald Margulies writing and French 75s on the porch of  a historic home where one of my favorite TV shows was filmed. But this production changed me because it introduced me to Lee Blessing's honest, yet pensive writing style (this play is a part of a three show cycle/collection) and as an audience member, gave me some of the necessary feels to formulate intimate, site-specific pieces with my company in the future. I like the direction this company is moving in and I look forward to seeing what they do next.

InHouse's Down the Road runs in Hollywood for a limited number of performances through May 7. Go for the convict. He'll make you squirm in your seat and sometimes he'll give you no choice but to look away. A challenging production put up by one of my favorite indie theatre companies in LA; check it out before it's too late!

Into the Woods

On Wednesday evening, I ventured to the Ahmanson for opening night of Into the Woods with one of my most trusted champions of the American theatre. Zoë I have known since childhood. She is now a senior at LMU who will be graduating with a degree in screenwriting in like, two months! Time does fly. ANYWAY, she had specifically asked if she could join me for this production, as she was a big fan of the musical, especially after living through Disney's film interpretation with her very musical family a few years ago. She was also looking forward to this Fiasco Theater rendition, in which the actors also served as the show's musicians. Of course I was happy to go with someone so enthusiastic about the content, considering that I had only ever seen a middle school production of the show performed, that actually might have only been the first act of the play (which can kind of stand alone as a complete piece of theatre)!

Sprinklings of character on top of 19th century underwear.

The day after the show, while still working on this piece, someone asked me "how minimalist is this production?" I'm not sure if minimal is the word I would use to describe it even. It's more like a very family-friendly, multi-role, stripped down edition of the original musical. At the beginning of the play the actors are walking around the stage casually, sometimes communicating directly with people in the audience until Anthony Chatmon II (who will later play one of the princes, one of Cinderella's stepsisters and the wolf) welcomes the audience, makes the cell phone announcement and commences the beginning of the show. A mobile pianist is stationed center stage while the cast begins the opening number standing in a row. Something about that brought me back to a choir or a music class. Simple yet strong. The rest of the production gradually, imaginatively deviates from that tone as the show continues. The style is kind of like playing dress up in your grandmother's attic. She's got a bunch of old clothes, some random props, taxidermy of your grandfather's (but he's a vegetarian now) and even some instruments from their old family band stint, back in the day.

"If you know
What you want,
Then you go
And you find it
And you get it-"
-The Baker's Wife

So, did I like all that. Yes. Did I LOVE that? No. This is not one of the best shows I've seen all year, but I still really enjoyed it. Zoë and I had a great time, and I think it would be a lot of fun to bring a younger patron to this production. I am a fan of this musical. For me the lyrics are very powerful and I appreciate the risks Lapine & Sondheim made musically to make these classic fairytale characters relatable, funnier, darker, smarter and even more realistic at times. Acting wise, Zoë especially loved Darick Pead, who commanded the audiences' attentions in each of his hilarious roles as the other prince, the other step-sister and Jack's cow Milkey White. He always had our attention and his comedic timing was excellent. I was also impressed with Stephanie Umoh's outside-the-box interpretation of the Witch. Music-wise, everything sounds fine. But Zoë and I asked ourselves if the instrumental might be a more powerful storytelling device if it were played by a full orchestra continually throughout the piece. Because basically, we have an extremely talented pianist/music director, Evan Rees, underscoring the entire show, followed up by Fred Rose who plays the cello, guitar and some percussion as well as his role as the Mysterious Man among a few other minor characters. Sometimes the other actors will add musically, though various percussion, bassoon, trumpet, guitar and others...but most of the time it's the piano playing with one of two other instruments while the actors do their acting. Again, it sounds fine, but in the big house environment of the Ahmanson, I think I was craving a full-time band.

"When you know you can't have what you want,
Where's the profit in wishing?" -The Baker's Wife

At intermission we chatted with Anthony, an old friend of mine from college theatre. He and I both agreed that this style of performance could be more powerful in a smaller, more intimate venue, but at the same time, we were happy the cast had the opportunity to perform in front of a house this size. It would have been better on the thrust stage of the Taper, but it would have been even better than that in a more up-close and personal venue. "Well, I think CTG is just trying to do something different. To be a little more outside the box with their content, you know" he told me with a shrug of his shoulders. But seriously, I guess my point is, if I had a dollar for every time someone referred to Center Theatre Group saying "I think they're trying to do something different" with a mildly quizzical look on their face...I'd be Michael Richie status, on both the payroll level and the "how do I please the American theatre pubic as a huge artistic director?" level. I don't know. It's a fine line. Should we be making small theatre bigger, or small theatre more accessible?

"But then what if he knew
Who I am when I know
That I'm not what he thinks
That he wants?"
-Cinderella

What does the show make me want to change about myself? There were a number of quotes that I wrote down while watching this show, some that I have already mentioned here. Many lyrics remind us that we are the masters of our own destiny, and that when we feel trapped, we have the power to make a change, to run away, to prove and improve ourselves. The second act is very existential and I appreciated that at this stage of life. As a younger theatre-goer I would have been like, "What the hell? Pull yourselves together," but now I'm like, "Yeah...I get it." This will probably sound a little dramatic, but one of the closing numbers, really caused me to think about my parents and how they devoted the second half of their lives to raising my brother and sister and I. "Careful before you say, 'listen to me,' children will listen," made me think about the choices and sacrifices they made and how our lives were affected in hindsight. And how I hope we can honor them by living our best lives for them, since they gave up so much for us. This line also makes me think about the impact I may have on my own children someday and children around me today..

The Fiasco Theater production of Into the Woods runs at the Ahmanson through May 14. Kids and adults alike will all have something to take away from this homespun, captivating production.

New York Correspondant Post: Amélie on Broadway

Whenever we are lucky enough to have a show transfer from Los Angeles to Broadway, I always confer with my number one New York theatre nerd, Miss Amy Bushwald. The girl (I am not exaggerating) sees every show on Broadway and believe me, I trust in her level of nerddom and that is not an easy thing to achieve. So when I found out Amélie was headed to Broadway, I reached out to Amy to let us know if there had been any changes since its visit to LA. Also, since Amy had never seen the film version, I was very curious to see how this interpretation of the story would land with her. Thank you Amy, and enjoy!

I miss Amy so much; i just want to hug her!!!

Isabella had the opportunity to see Amélie at the Ahmanson Theatre during the LA run. She asked me to review it once it hit Broadway to compare.  As someone who has never seen the original film of Amélie, I thought that I would have an advantage going into this production not having any pre-conceived expectations. Unfortunately, this was not the case. The show starts off with a young Amélie being told that because she has an irregular heart beat (something I assume is delved into more in the film as they hardly mentioned it here) has to be taught at home and basically never leave her house or have any excitement. The result is a very shy yet incredibly imaginative little girl. Young Amélie spends a great deal on stage for the first third of the show but the scenes lacked any kind of connection. I completely agreed with Isabella that “it just seemed like there was a lot going on and not enough time to earn the moments or conclusions to each mini mystery.” Everything sped by very quickly with somewhat clunky staging, trying to get through as much exposition as possible. According to her, the multiple plot lines work very well in the film and I wish it had worked on stage as well.

Phillipa Soo plays adult Amélie pretty naturally. There is nothing wrong with her performance but it seems that everything around her isn’t matching up. Although she spends a great deal of time on stage, I walked away with the impression that she wasn’t given that much to actually do. Her songs were not that memorable (well none of the songs were if I’m being honest). The entire production seemed shallow and one dimensional. It sorely lacked any emotional depth and felt cold. One of the most disappointing aspects is that this had such a great cast but unless you were Amélie or Nino, you had a thankless role.

Like I said, I’ve never seen the movie, but I’ve heard that it is very quirky and imaginative. The disappointing factor is that this does not translate well in the stage version. The songs that included the garden gnome and Elton John were the kind of “show stopping” numbers that just bored me. There was also a lack of tension between Amélie and Nino finally meeting. I wasn’t waiting with baited breath for them to see each other. Once again I have to assume but it seemed that the secondary characters were watered down from their movie counterparts. The café characters seemed to be just stock tropes and I, again, did not feel anything towards them.

Even though the production is only 1 hour and 45 minutes long with no intermission, it felt much longer and tended to drag in a lot of places. Overall, this production was messy and unsure of itself but at least I got to see Phillipa Soo sing again.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

The Antaeus Theatre Company's new location in the heart of downtown Glendale. And when I say heart, I mean heart, like it was super temping to just pull into the parking lot and shop till curtain at the Glendale Galeria. I need more theatre-going outfits. However, Sunday afternoon I visited the new space with my friend Aly, an artist/director/ASL guru that I had met while working with A Noise Within theatre in Pasadena. 

We arrived at the opening "day" 2PM matinee of the double cast production of Tennessee William's Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, directed by Cameron Watson, the production that would christen Antaeus's new home. It had been a very long time since I had studied this play, so I was excited to be going in with fresh eyes. I'm also not the biggest Tennessee Williams fan, but as you will read later, this year I have been slowly dragged back in to his style and charm. From the onset the venue seemed a bit lacking in warmth. But because this is only their first production at the new venue, with their potentially gorgeous library still in the beginning stages of becoming fully stacked with theatre literature, I hope that the character of the space will continue to gain charm as the seasons wear on the space over time. The set was exposed upon entry to the house with no curtain, although there was still a proscenium seating arrangement. Everything but the set was black or grey. 

In a theatre with the right kind of liquor license, there's a great potential drinking game for this show; take a swig every time someone uses the phrase "cat on a hot tin roof." Which happened a lot more than I might have expected.

Overall, I enjoyed the show and look forward to seeing more work by this company at this space. The production had its pros and cons though, and as usual, I will try to balance my opinions by the very text of the play. For starters, Big Daddy, played with full devotion by Mike McShane was the highlight of the production. This script, very theatrically pleasingly, escalates in drama and suspense with each act, releasing more and more truth to the invested audience with each scene. So when you have a character in act two that really brings down the house, it is critical that the actor delivers just that. And McShane certainly delivers. You're both afraid of him and afraid for him. On another note, Aly and I agreed that the accents were not always 100% on point, although our ears adjusted. This is not an easy play. For the first two acts, you're pretty much either a character that is doing the majority of the talking or the majority of the listening. And there are ways to drop out of both of those tasks. The third act is kind of a mad dash for resolve and retribution amongst the play's relatively large cast. There are kids involved. All those things considering, I thought the group did a pretty good job. Even though there's a lot of talking, I was never bored. So although I would have liked to like this production even more, I liked it enough. I was satisfied. I understood the story and I felt for the characters. But I would like to someday have the frame of reference of watching other companies perform this piece. And I'm sure I will.

Brick: Did you say something?

Margaret: I was goin' t' say something: that i get lonely. very!

Brick: Ev'rybody gets that.

margaret: Living alone with someone you love can be lonelier--than living entirely alone!--if the one that y' love doesn't love you.

Mike McShane and Daniel Bess performing my favorite moment of the show.

My final point was kind of a big drop in production value for us. Almost immediately after bows, Aly and I headed over to the Ahmanson for the second of our double feature theatre Sunday fun-day. After about two hours of processing the production we had just watched, we concluded that we found that the brief, but striking, nudity that occurred within the first ten minutes of the play did not serve the show's storytelling, when placed in the context of the three acts we had watched. I wanted this bold statement to work, because I am trying to rationalize its use in the context of Maggie and Brick's private relationship and not-so-private quarters, but in the end we both agreed that it more so took us out of the world of the play, than into the reality that those two are dealing with. It was distracting.

"But a man can't buy his life with it, he can't buy back his life when his life has been spent, that's one thing not offered in th' europe fire sale or in th' american markets or any markets on earth, a man can't buy his life with it, he can't buy back his life with it when his life is finished..." -big Daddy

So what does the show make me want to change about myself? This is kind of a big deal, but after seeing the Pasadena Playhouse's more bio-play genre production of God Looked Away about a day in the life of the senior writer Tennessee Williams, in tandem with his writing in this play, I've been called to revisit some of Tennessee's earlier works. I wrote down a number of quotes during the performance that reminded me what a powerful writer he was. The Glass Menagerie, after a number of silent years is back on my book list. It's also my partner at BAE Theatre's favorite play. Wish I could pop over to see Sally Fields in it on Broadway right now. Plot-wise, I have found that with Tennessee's work, I tend to feel a little "other people's problems" about it. I appreciate what is going on, and I sympathize for the characters, but it's not really my issue, usually. At least, yet. I'm trying to process what I have in common with these characters, even though we come from a different socioeconomic background, upbringing, region and time period.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof runs at Antaeus Theatre Company's new space through May 7th. There are two casts, and I'd be curious to hear what you think of the other group, the Buttered Biscuits. But I'd recommend The Hoppin' Johns, for Mike McShane's performance as Big Daddy alone.

Remote L.A.

If I'm going to leave day-work early to make to a 4PM immersive theatre experience...it better be good. 

Remote L.A. a pedestrian live art theatrical experience, is Center Theatre Group's first step into a genre steadily rising in popularity,  immersive theatre. My partner, an associate producer at the Skylight Theatre Company in Los Feliz, and I arrived at the back of the Mark Taper Forum, where we were guided in a procession of other participants to the public garden at La Plaza de Cultura y Artes, right around the corner from old Olivera Street. After collecting headsets or earbuds from the crew, we embarked on somewhat deviant audio walking tour of downtown LA a lead by robot/operating system named Heather, who was very aware of her own artificiality. You are encouraged to put your phone away, although it's tempting to not try and sneak some pictures, which yes, me, and many others within the group did sneak. This hundred minute show involves lots of walking (they say four miles, but it feels like less) and they encourage very comfortable footwear. After completing the LA marathon on Sunday, I didn't know if I would be able to take it, but it moved surprisingly quick and didn't feel as rigorous as it had been described. But maybe that's because I did the LA Marathon on Sunday.

It certainly was fun.  ****This next part could be a bit of a spoiler, if you're still planning to go over the next two weeks**** You ride a train. You go down a seemingly scary alleyway. At times as a group you determine the route of the course. There are moments when you stand out from typical LA city-dwellers and there are moments when you will blend in. There's dancing. There's racing. There is potential for high-fifing and applause. Close to the end, the "hoard" is even broken up into smaller "herds" and separated off onto mini journeys. I'm not going to lie, I was having fun. Especially at the dancing part. I loved the opportunity to completely shamelessly break it down in a public place. Shake it till' you make it baby. ****Spoiler End****

But, as my partner and I concluded afterwards, the show is kind of like Dippin' Dots; it's a lot of fun, but is it really that good? We found that although we appreciated what was supposed to be happening, we felt that the dramatic action, the conflict, the actual "theatre" was the only thing missing from this theatre experience. More than one patron described the audio as "meditative" in quality, as opposed to a more story/plot driven experience. The experience relies more on one's own contemplation on their surroundings, choices and impact than an imagined story, mission or role. And, maybe because the artificiality was so emphasized, I was less invested in what "Heather" was trying to accomplish. I didn't have real live actors to attach myself to. But I had me. I could choose how invested my participation was. Both mentally and physically. If I took out my phone or started taking to another patron, the machine would not be affected. If I did that in a live theatre, there might be a consequence. Considering that Rimini Protocol originated this franchise of productions in Berlin, soon verging forth to other landmark European cities before making their way to America, it makes me wonder how willing to be a part of the experience those European audiences were, in comparison to Americans. Maybe because I'm an actor, and I've reached a certain stage in my life, I have no problem busting a move when instructed, on a train or in a hotel lobby, or participating in a race to the end of the block. I don't get embarrassed about stuff like that, especially in a space deemed a theatre space, by the given constructs. But I know others can be a little more timid, maybe even embarrassed to play in this way. For this show to really work, everyone has to give themselves over to the play, and that might be my takeaway for this one. For a play to really work, you have to totally give yourself over to it. You need to be safe, you need to be respectful of others, but you can't be embarrassed to try things. So what this show makes me want to change about myself, is having complete willingness and openness in the rehearsal process, to offer a little more trust up front. And I could see how this show may create a release in other areas of life for other patrons. 

Capturing a memory of the hoard together.

If you're able to catch a 4PM weekday show or one of the remaining weekend performances, Remote L.A. runs though April 2nd only in Downtown Los Angeles through Center Theatre Group. Don't be afraid to try.

Good Grief

Good Grief is the first play that Ngozi Anyanwu has written, after graduating from the MFA acting program at UCSD. According to her, this is a vaguely autobiographical story of how she dealt with the grief of a close (very close) friend's passing, combined with elements of folklore and magical realism. For those of your that have read my pieces before, I know what you're thinking, Isabella is not big on magical realism. Luckily there isn't too, too much. But based on the title, I was really banking on some type of Charlie Brown reference somewhere in there.

View fullsize

Versus reading the play on paper, I hadn't realized until I watched it that every scene takes place on or next to a bed.

But this play isn't about Charlie Brown. It's about Nkechi, the academic, strong-willed, virgin daughter of two ambitious Nigerian Igbo refugees. The story revolves around her coping with the passing of her best friend MJ. Nkechi is a tough cookie. She can be harsh with the people she holds closest, defensive in the confines of her suburban lifestyle and not all too open about any pain she may be harboring within, ever. She uses the people in her environment and flashbacks to her time with MJ to tell her story, of how she kind of gets through loosing someone she might have been on the cusp of love with, someone she might have been almost ready to be completely open and honest with, in a way that she has never let anyone in before.

View fullsize

Really enjoyed this scene between brother and sister. Perfect balance of love, humor and coping. 

After the play, I walked next door at City Tavern with two theatre-literate friends of mine. I'm glad we continued our journey over drinks because this ended up being an important step in my processing this play.

So, I didn't love it. My biggest issue was a personal one; I was having trouble loving the protagonist, Nkechi. During the performance, I had written down:

-She's kind of a mean character.

-I want her to soften. I want to love her. I also want her to stop negating.

Maybe I was supposed to be feeling that way. But I didn't really like that feeling.

"Not so much softening," my friend Lex shared, "I feel like 'vulnerability' is more the word I'm looking for. What I was craving."

We continued to discuss how the character certainly had attributes we could relate to. We had all at some point been jerks to men we were attracted to. We had also acted impulsively towards our parents, siblings, classmates, ok, everyone. But there was a lot of negativity and suppression going on. Celia commented that she loved the moment when Nkechi finally broke down, crying on her mother's lap. That was the release of emotion she had been craving. However, she also felt that that moment, among a number of others, were far too short. She craved sitting and living in those moments for longer.

I'm not in love with this play. But based on multiple community discussions I've been a part of throughout previews, I can see that it is moving a lot of people in different ways. We encounter many different people informing Nkechi's journey though grief; any audience member can choose one to latch on to. There are mentions of suicide, death within the family and relationships that have a way of dying on their own. So yes, there is a lot to relate to, but I want more. 

On a design level, I feel like the play is trying to imitate the style of downtown theatre you would find in lower Manhattan: purposefully, effectively executed in a risky way that uses limited resources. But this is a big organization, with a big budget. Even though the constructs of the house outlines and moving levels of the stage are "simple," they are polished, maybe too polished. (Sorry if I'm being a jerk, props to the designers, it just wasn't connecting effectively for me.) Also but, the traditional audience at the Kirk Douglas Theatre expects this type of production quality and probably doesn't know any better. So this was a safe way for Center Theatre Group to introduce them to this downtown theatre style.

MJ: If you could be anything in the world, what would you be?

NKECHI: I don't know. Happy I guess?

View fullsize

So crazy, it just might (have) work(ed).

Considering that the play explores the severe concept of death, I feel guilty and unqualified to make this comparison, but the moment I connected to most was Nkechi's soliloquy. She's talking out loud about how "I don't want to forget you, but I want to forget you. I don't want you to fade, but I want you to fade. I want to like ERASE you." This is the part that made me almost cry because although he is not dead, there is someone that is dead from my life that makes this moment resonate on a personal level. I don't want to let go, but I know that I have to, in order to be productive and move on with my life. In a way it was good to get this release from the character, to get this honesty from her in private. But because it was in private, emotionally I was personally (and this is personal) unsatisfied because I wanted her to share that release with all the characters around her that she had treated harshly. So, on an offshoot of my typical what does this play make me want to change about myself question, this time I will just say this play caused me to analyze my feelings about this person. To not only give in, to be ok with the vulnerability I was strong enough to offer him, but to be ok with moving on, and not beat myself up about either parts of that process. My pride gets in the way of this, and it's very difficult. Giving myself grief over it is not effective or healthy.

Good Grief runs at the Kirk Douglas Theatre through March 26th. If you're looking for an off-beat dark comedy(ish) put up by a high-budget company, on the west side to discuss over a flight of beer next door, this might be a fun one for you. 

946: The Amazing Story of Adolphus Tips

The Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts is a fairly newly opened, gorgeous...interesting venue. Since its reopening, at least it seems to me, the venue is still trying to figure out exactly what it wants to be. Theatre is not it's only programing, as it also features many varied types of musical productions, dance shows, legendary performers in solo pieces and more. The run lengths range from a few days to weeks, so whenever I hear of a gem at this venue, I hop to it, as it may not be there for long. That can sometimes be confusing. Last summer I was lucky to watch Deaf West's stunning, emotional production of Spring Awakening at the WA before its successful Broadway transplant. The WA has mounted a number of successful projects, I'm just still unclear of the overall identity of the venue/company/arts organization. 

On this particular evening, I didn't know until walking into the venue that this was a family production. Which, considering that I brought my friend Kristen, whom I had never brought to the theatre with me before, I was a little bit nervous. I got lucky, because she is a very upbeat, open-minded musician (drummer specifically) that I know through our roles in the Leadership Council of the Emerging Arts Leaders of Los Angeles. Coincidentally, she was pretty much the perfect person to bring to this show.

View fullsize

Lily's (Katy Owen) initial interactions to Barry (Adam Sopp) will have you rolling on the floor laughing. The accuracy of the grade school interaction will bring you back to a very wonderful, hilarious stage of life.

Anyway, 946: The Amazing Story of Adolphus Tips transports us to autumn 1944, to a small town in the English countryside, where the townspeople must not only accommodate evacuees from central London, but allow Allied American soldiers to occupy their farms and livelihoods. Lily Tregenza, a spritely, curious, ambitious eleven-year-old (played by Katy Owen) rules her family's farm, confides in her best friend and cat, Tips, and has no plans to let the new boy at school, Barry (Adam Sopp) kiss her any time soon. Put up by the Knee-high Theatre in collaboration with Berkeley Rep, the show combines an incredibly gifted ensemble of musicians with amazingly life-like puppets to tell a story of perseverance, loyalty, coping, friendship and love during wartime. In a way that is appropriate for kids (and above) the production does an impressive, musical job exploring what a scary stage in history this was for everyone, families, soldiers, parents, children and even animals.

There were things I loved about the show, and there were just a few things I could have done without. Overall I ended up enjoying it far more than I had expected. There were some parts I thought personally could have been cut down in length a bit, possibly some even cut out, but I could also see how a child in the audience could wish this show would go on forever.

Plain and simple: this show is a lot of fun. I was telling Kristen that I wished I could see this show with kids, or watch a student matinee performance because this production is a testament of how children can be reached though theatre. Some kids (*cough* like me *cough*) would walk out of this show beaming, able to tell you a lot more about World War 2 than if they had been sitting in a classroom. So yes, I wish I had a little one to bring to this production. Kristen and I loved the music, and on top of it sounding awesome (even the transition/downtime music is great), almost every single talented cast member is also a part of the band at some point! How they orchestrated the performers between band-playing time and character playing time is amazing and the music is also a super cool testament to the era. We get to see some incredible puppetry, highlighting the importance of pets and animals to the community. It should be noted that this storytelling was inspired by the book War Horse, whose theatrical adaptation will always move me to tears. We get to see men playing women and some women playing men; it's all very silly and fun. We get to see some heart-thumping swing dancing by the American soldiers, played by Ncuti Gatwa and Nandi Bhebhe, that will at least get your toe tapping if not your whole body grooving. The set is abstract but beautifully designed and serves the constant movement of the play. There is also a clever use of galvanized tubs in act II used to demonstrate a submarine attack that will certainly get the kids' attention. But the Englishness of the play was ultimately what made me fall for it. I cannot tell a lie; I'll see almost any show imported from across the pond. So gosh-darn charming. This story reminds us that even though we come from different countries, we have the same concerns, fears and dreams. Plus it's important for us, and our children to see the affects of war on a country other than our own.

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." MLK Jr, as quoted by Lily Tregenza

View fullsize

Katy Owen's Lily Treganza is definitely a highlight of the production. Her intensely specified physicality combined with her almost animalistic vocalizations are almost nothing you've ever seen before. But through her crazy antics and explosive reactions, she transports you to the curiosity, exploration, and discoveries within preadolescence. Just when you thought you had blocked all humiliating memories of eleven-year-old life, she zaps you there. The girl is a force of nature, her physical acting is on another level, she is fearless in her character and I look forward to seeing what she does with the company she helped found, Difficult Stage. I would LOVE to see some of their work.

What does the show make me want to change about myself? It makes me want to pay more attention to the young ones. Sometimes we write off kids' issues. They can't find their cat? So what, there's a war going on. But their problems are important to them; if they weren't, they wouldn't be upset in the first place. As adults, it's our responsibility, it's our job to at least try to understand them, as they try to make sense of us, why we make them to eat their vegetables, why they have to go to school, why wars are going on. So once again, the theatre makes me want to be a better listener, this time specifically with kids, because we can never know how their childhood experience will shape their adult life, and their potential to change the world. 

946: The Amazing Story of Adolphus Tips runs at the Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts through March 5. Have fun, bring a little friend to experience the magic of theatre and take a step into the world of WW2.

Long Day's Journey Into Night

Eugene O'Neill. Brevity is not his strongpoint, regardless he remains one of the all-time greats of the American theatre. This Saturday, Ben, a fellow LA theatre artist, joined me for a three hour and twenty minute three-act cornerstone of American drama at the Geffen Playhouse, directed by Jeanie Hackett. Ben had never seen or read Long Day's Journey Into Night but was really looking forward watching the show, as he was also a big fan of the venue. I confided in him that although I had taken a semester-long course dedicated to the playwright's extensive body of work...the plays were so long on the page that I hadn't even finished the play I had presented on, More Stately Mansions. I also admitted that I had smuggled in a blueberry muffin, hidden deep in my rattan bag, as I had literally prepped for a long day's journey at the theatre, in which the play might be so long that I could grow faint with hunger.

However, the play moved along with great progress, during which neither of our tummies grumbled. We laughed. I almost cried. And overall I was very impressed.

EDMUND: I'm like Mama. I can't help liking you, in spite of everything.

TYRONE: I might say the same of you.

View fullsize

Probably my favorite scene in the show. Alfred Molina delivers a brilliant, chilling monologue to Colin Woodell.

At intermission Ben noted that he hoped James Tyrone, fully realized by the infamous Alfred Molina, would get a little more action in the third act, as he wanted to see him do more in the course of the story. I replied that I thought Molina was already doing an excellent job. In this play, we watch two sons and a father deal with their mother's severe drug addiction. They all handle her suffering, her deception and her love in a different way, which I think is one of the main reasons the story stands strong as one of America's most timeless tragedies. When a family member is struggling in a way that does not have an immediate solution, do we ridicule? Do we ignore? Do we facilitate? Do we listen? Judging by the way James reacts to Mary's continuous defenses and his turning a blind eye to her drug use in their own home, the patriarch holds somewhat of a defeated stance on the issue. He has tried. He has supported his wife emotionally and financially, put her through rehab and loved her continuously throughout many family trials. So, even though he may not have as many lines as the other characters in the first two acts, I thought Molina did an incredible job of showing James Tyrone's defeat through his stillness in just keeping out of the issue verbally. I think we all know a few men like this. Blows are thrown out more than once that James suffered from alcoholism, but even if that was true, he doesn't seem to be struggling with it in any type of dangerous way at the time the play takes place. On the contrary, he delivers an incredibly beautiful, poinient monologue in act IV on why he might admit to being the miser his sons constantly accuse him of being. It was an honor to watch him play this role live on stage.

View fullsize

Angela Goethals makes a delightful, necessary comedic cameo appearance as the Tyrones' saucy Irish maid, Cathleen.

Jane Kaczmarek plays Mary Tyrone in a delivery style very different than what I would have ever expected from this character on the page (and compared with Kathrine Hepburn in the 1962 film version), but it kind of works. Although I agree with Charles McNulty's assessment that Kaczmarek's interpretation is certainly not as delicate as some of the great actresses to play this role before her, I felt that her more commanding delivery spoke to the strong willed woman hiding amidst a lifetime of suppression to man's asking. In this kind of crazy way, Mary Tyrone has never really had control of her body. Her mother had her all lined up to become a nun from an early age, where she would sacrifice sexual pleasure to better the will of God. Then she is swept away by the accomplished Irish actor James Tyrone. To the embarrassment of his sons, he has no problem describing how he found her to be a fantastic lover. That of course lead to childbirth, one that would result in in the scarring tragedy of the death of a child, another that would result in her very drug addiction. Her body has been at the mercy of others, out of her own control for nearly her entire life. So for that reason, I found Kaczmarek's more forthright approach refreshing. Mary is so exhausted by pain and disillusion that the drugs are bringing out the truth to the lies she has been told her entire life. Or, at least they're telling her that. And she's not having it anymore. She doesn't care how she sounds and in her own way, she is also defeated.

View fullsize

This isn't going to be easy. For anyone.

 Although we were very impressed with the set design in collaboration with the lighting design of the play, we were a bit confused by the quotes and projection photography going on between scenes. I recognized some photos of the actors, the playwright, what I think was the playwright as a child (?), and the rest I was unsure. It was interesting and made me question why it was happening, but in the aftermath I don't understand how it added to the story of the play. Maybe because this show holds some vaguely autobiographical elements to O'Neill. I also failed to find the significance of the quotes/lines being read during these transitions. 

One of O'Neill's greatest strengths as a writer lies in his portrayal of the family struggle. Financially, physically, romantically and allegiance-wise, he never has a problem dramatizing a problem in a theatrically engaging way where we can easily create parallels into our own lives. And this play is the mac-daddy of alllllllllllllllllllllllll that. So when I ask myself what the play makes me want to change about myself, I go back to my family. (There seems to be a theme of family standing out in the theatre I've seen this month. Maybe God's trying to tell me something.) There is so much heartbreaking, internalized blame in the Tyrone family, and although my experience may be different, I've been there. As the audience we have the authority to sit back and see the bigger picture and how some of the accusations are wrong, or right, or both. I think we've all tried to call someone out without understanding all the details from their side of the fence. Sometimes alcohol can help facilitate this opportunity, sometimes not in the most positive way. The play gives me empathy for friends and relatives of mine either struggling with addiction or struggling with a loved with facing addiction. Both stances are incredibly complicated and once again, the theatre makes me want to be a better listener, a better attempted understander, to be a help to those struggling around me. To know whether I need to step up and take action, or simply be there, to give love and support through stillness, to lend an ear.

Don't do drugs.

Long Day's Journey Into Night runs at the Geffen Playhouse through March 18th. I would encourage you to catch this dynamically acted production of a timeless American classic.

Fun Home

Have you ever heard of the Bechdel test? Contrived by Alison Bechdel, author/illustrator of the autobiographical graphic novel Fun Home, the test rates films based on the criteria of containing at least two female characters who talk to each other about something besides a man.

The musical adaptation of Fun Home, with a gorgeous score by Jeanine Tesoro complimented with captivating book and lyrics by Lisa Kron, I liked a lot better than the book. Plus, Los Angeles gets to be blessed by Sam Gold's original direction, the literal "Golden child" of theatre directors. Fun Home tells the story of Alison Bechdel's childhood in the mid seventies through to her adulthood as a cartoon artist, based primarily around her coming to terms with her sexuality. Her story also delves into her father's secretiveness about his sexuality and how it may have contributed to his suicide. As a big graphic novel reader, at first I was excited to pick the book up, but soon realized that I had a hard time connecting with its tone. I was also craving clarity of the characters' emotions  while dealing with the book's conflicts. The drawings are beautiful and the story is a unique one, but it didn't land with me the way I had hoped.

View fullsize

Here's a page out of the original graphic novel Fun Home by Allison Bechdel. The first page actually. I made a copy of this to frame someday. I remember doing this with my dad.

However, as with most musical adaptations, things get a little bit lighter in song. They get a little more emotionally fueled too. From the very fist number, the music swells with warmth, drawing us in to the Bechdels' historic Pennsylvania home. While reading the book, I was upset that I didn't get to live in the mother's emotional trauma and lifestyle paired with what she was facing. But on stage, we get a much deeper look into how this experience impacted her. Helen, played by Susan Moniz, is transformed into this beautiful mother figure, just trying to live through what in her eyes is a nightmare, in order to do the best she can for her family. Also in comparison to the book, I felt like the father was much more deeply humanized on stage. I don't know if he can be classified as an anti-hero, because he has his moments of heroism, even throughout making choices society would look down upon. Regardless, Robert Petkoff nails it. He sounds wonderful, he's convincing and the contrast between the ways he positively and negatively communicates with his children is an incredible visual lesson for the aspiring actor. His closing number was absolutely gorgeous. Both the mother and the father's beauty comes alive on stage in a way that it could not in the graphic novel. It makes sense: the reader's perception of the book is often out of the author's hands and maybe while I was reading it I was just focusing too much on the darkness. But the stage certainly brought the characters into the light.

View fullsize

This image is the last line of the opening number, and also the first page of the graphic novel.

I had also been concerned about the show's transformation from its thrust stage at Circle in the Square Theater in New York to the proscenium stage at the Ahmanson. But it works. I can see how being up close and personal from different vantage seating points at Circle in the Square would have its intimate benefits for this production, but the show is still effective in its messages.  The direction of the play is very simple, but that very much works based on the interactions and relationships within this growing family. I've discussed the mother and father enough, but really this is a star studded cast as a whole. Everyone will make you either laugh or cry. The kids are seriously freak'n cute. Abby Corrigan as Medium Alison was especially engaging (one of my favorite performances) through the awkwardly beautiful transformation from girl to woman in Alison's college days. Her delivery is on point, as she stumbles around her crush, trying to shield every embarrassing attempted communication. She accepts what seems to her a humiliating failure, while the audience witnesses her growth as a human. Corrigan has mastered the awkwardness, as she tries to defend Alison's opinion while realizing how big and small the world is. She has a lovely voice to boot; I greatly enjoyed her performance.

After bows, my companion for the evening, a resident LA actor, told me that she was craving more about the how the story impacted Bechdel brothers. I agreed with her, but knowing that was not a central focus of the book, it had not come to mind during the show. Plus, this isn't their story, it's Alison's story. My partner was as obsessed with the kids as I was, and notably hailed Karen Eilbacher's incredibly natural portrayal of Joan. 

View fullsize

Unexpectedly one of my favorite scenes. These kids are beyond adorable and wholeheartedly invested in putting the fun in Fun Home. It's a treat to watch them having such a great time. And their 70s inspired dance moves are AH-mazing!

What does the play make me want to change about myself? It may seem broad, but the biggest personal connection to this show for me was the family dynamic. The way the kids bonded together, the way each parent communicated with the kids, the way the parents communicated with each other. It sounds simple, but the dramatization of those basic relationships really hit home for me. I've seen my parents talk to each other this way. My brother and sister and I have imagined ourselves out of all kinds of situations. I've also been in the room with a family member who wanted to tell me something, but felt they couldn't even though we're family and we're supposed to. I've sat on both sides of the table in that situation. Fun Home makes me want to know more about people in my family. It makes we want to talk to my brother more. It makes me want to be a better listener. A lot of plays make we want to be a better listener. I probably need to be a better listener.

View fullsize

Alison (Kate Shindle), Medium Alison (Abby Corrigan) and Small Alison (Alessandra Baldacchino) were all absolutely fantastic.

So, does the musical Fun Home pass the Bechdel test? In my opinion, it passes by a hairline fracture. Two women speak to each other alone discussing their own sexuality, however it is not long before the father is brought into the conversation. Which obviously makes a ton of sense based on the premise. With a play grounded in the family dynamic that highlights the father figure as one of the most central characters, it's difficult to steer clear of the male influence. Which is great. The story works and we need him. He made Alison who she is today and her love for him is memorialized by this book and musical. 

Fun Home runs at the Ahmanson Theatre at Music Center through April 1. Winner of Best Musical at the 2015 Tony Awards, if you're in the mood for some 70s flair and unconventional family fun, check this one out.

God Looked Away

Still missing review notebook. Specifics of this post may change if found!

One misty evening, two married friends (not married to each other) and I drove from LA proper up to the historic Pasadena Playhouse. Somehow I managed entrance to an invite-only final dress rehearsal of the world premiere production on God Looked Away by Dotson Rader, directed by Robert Allen Ackerman. I was really looking forward to watching the show that evening, because in my book, there's almost no better feeling in the world than watching theatre while it's raining outside. You're transported to this completely different world while sheltered inside from the elements. You're cozy and full of art; what could be better than that? 

Apart from the peace overcoming me for the impending cozy art viewing, married manfriend was loosing his cool. He was so far past excited to watch one of his greatest acting icons perform live on stage right in our own backyard. He even brought him a little "letter of encouragement" that he refuses to acknowledge as a fan letter. Who would that be, you might ask. 

View fullsize

                    Any more questions?

Apart from this being Al freaking Pacino, this play really exceeded my expectations. Sometimes when big, reputable actors decide to put on a play, its kind of for selfish reasons, just to show they've still got it. And even if they do, the play isn't always that great, more of a showcase of their talent (AKA "Look how godly I am still"). However, for a celebrity-lead production, this one really goes above and beyond. God Looked Away is a slice of life play centering around the late career of the prolific American playwright Tennessee Williams, specifically during one of his final theatrical ventures in Chicago in 1981. 

View fullsize

Going into the show, I wasn't sure how Al Pacino would pull off the aging, southern literary cornerstone of the American theatre. But the man is a master of his craft, and complimented by an impeccable supporting cast, completely transformed every moment. Very strong cast as a whole. The play takes place on a single set, an extravagant master suite of the Ambassador East Hotel where Tennessee Williams and his somewhat boyfriend/"Baby" live during their time in Chicago, the day after his 70th birthday. The central conflict revolves around Tennessee's need for his new show, A House Not Meant to Stand, to be groundbreaking enough to move to Broadway, as critics and investors alike have been asking for the next The Glass Menagerie for nearly decades at this point. Throughout his struggle with drug addiction, finances and artistic commitment, Baby (Miles Gaston Villanueva), Tennessee's young, handsome, long-time companion stays at his side, encouraging him, caring for him and even facilitating him when it seems there might be no other option. In the second act, Tennessee calls upon his old friend Estelle (Judith Light, loved her in The Assembled Parties) to finance the continuation of his downward spiraling production, but she has an agenda of her own. Her interactions, or attempted non-interactions with Tennessee's young new plaything, Luke (played ridiculously tawdry by Garrett Clayton) are hilarious. From cameos to leads, every role was played with style and care, which was my greatest takeaway from this production: an extremely tight ensemble. Married man friend disagreed somewhat regarding Baby, but personally I thought next to Pacino he was possibly the best person in the show.

So here's my fortune cookie sized review of this show: we are blessed with some exceptional acting in some very endearing roles, amongst a lot of conflict that doesn't really ever tie itself together in any particular way.

View fullsize

I can't get over those glasses.

I could see this show going to Broadway for it's strong performances, and I think I heard through the grapevine that it will be making it's way to Broadway. But forgive me if I've totally missed something here, but I don't really know what the moral of the story is. This is a story of a playwright struggling to maintain his image as one of the American greats and sightly falling out of touch as new talent, styles and demands rise to the surface. There's also a story about loyalty going on, about Baby remaining faithful, and standing by Tennessee during some of his darkest times, possibly in order to repay him for his kindness or maybe perhaps it is love. That's much as I got. I'm not sure what the play wants me to do with myself. Married ladyfriend agrees, and also felt that for a play this long, we were craving it to wrap itself up at the end in a deeper way. I will say that amidst the many internal conflicts within the story, the characters are what make this play very funny and sweet. Through the humor it takes to simply get though troubling situations like this, the jokes and attitudes of the characters get us to the end. God didn't look away because He was mad, simply because he was looking at something else, somewhere else. And Tennessee laughs playfully about that very idea of his.

View fullsize

So on that note, what does the play make me want to change about myself. Although I learned a lot from the characters of this show, I can't necessarily say that this was an internal game changer for me, morals-wise. In the theatre category, Mile's dedication to every single moment, wether conversing with other characters on stage, looking on from the sidelines as other characters had it out or delivering a soliloquy to the audience, inspires me as an artist. Very simply, to have every moment be as important as the next. I never lost him, I was always with him no matter what he was doing, and that is all I could ever dream of in a personal performance. In moments I would normally find boring, I was there with him. Excellent, inspiring acting. Same with Al. He never overacts. Although there were some complaints of him not being loud enough, from the forth row I was ok with that, and I appreciated both humor and emotional moments that were done in softness. Very fitting to the character.

God Looked Away runs at the Pasadena Playhouse through March 19th. Tickets are going for nearly $200 a seat, so time to take out a second mortgage or wake up at the crack of dawn to try and score from a limited number of rush seats. If you get a chance to see this, I would.

Zoot Suit

I want to apologize for my lack of posts recently. At this production I lost my review notebook, which has set me back about three shows. I apologize for the delay and lack of show-specific notes. If/when the notebook shows up, I will edit accordingly. If you have any leads, the notebook was last seen Tuesday February 14th at the Mark Taper Forum. The front is black and white photography of a New York City landscape and says something like "New York Times, Throughout the Ages." Sorry about that.

Ah Valentines Day. My favorite holiday, not for it's mushy romantic themes, but for the amount of mail involved (in case you didn't know, I am obsessed with mail). In the days leading up to this holiday we have the opportunity to send valentines to everyone we appreciate: friends, family, colleagues, mentors, etc. Apart from the lovely little Valentines I was sending and receiving on this very special day, the only thing that could improve it was my other great love, the theatre. And what better night to watch the show that has been described as "a love letter to LA?"

Zoot Suit at the Mark Taper Forum is a 40th anniversary revival of the original production, written and directed by prolific LA playwright Luis Valdez. In this iconic play turned film, through the character Henry Reyna (Matias Ponce) and his inner Pachuco (Academy Award nominee Demian Birchir), we delve feet first into the 1940s Los Angeles Chicano experience, specifically surrounding the Sleepy Lagoon Trials. Although the characters are fictional by name, actual transcripts of these trials salvaged from the UCLA special collections were used to create the courtroom dialogue and surrounding piece of historical fiction. Through his romance, brotherhood, family and pressures of life during wartime, we follow Henry and the Pachuco though one of the most exciting, political, revolutionary moments in LA History.

View fullsize

Lets go back to Los Angeles 1942. Drapes please.

To be fair, Valentines Day was not my first time seeing this production. I watched the show twice. My first visit was the very first preview performance, where Luis Valdez announced to the audience pre-curtain that this show is kind of like a tamale; it's not at its best when it comes right out of the oven, it's better after it's been able to sit for a few days. The show was still in preview mode and still needed the next few days to become solid and delicious.  I was in a bad mood and was only watching the show so that I could discuss it with patrons at work later that week. Combined with my negative attitude, it was clear that the show needed tightening, in its musicality, blocking, cues and choreography and even some of the relationships. However, it was first preview. So I committed to watching the show after opening to give myself and it another shot.

The second time I watched the show on Valentine's Day, it was much, much better. And by that point I had already had conversations with patrons that had seen it more than once. And patrons that still wanted to see it again.

So, as far as love letters go, there are things I loved about it and there are things I didn't love about it.

What I loved

It's funny, it's musical and you don't have to speak Spanish to understand what's going on. We're meeting characters that we've never met before in an era unfamiliar to most, but it's not long before we realize how universal their struggles are, no matter what their age, race or faith may be, as emphasized by the boy's people's lawyer, George Shearer (played compassionately by Brian Abraham). When Henry's sister Lupe (Stephani Candelaria) gets busted by their dad for attempting to sneak out to the dance while wearing an ultra short dress...I had a total flashback to a similar attempted departure to youth group back in high school. That's just a silly little moment, but on a grander scale, Henry's battling his inner Pachuco, someone cool, funny and opinionated, yet dark and dangerous, is something we all face, and a part of us that will always be there if we choose to listen. You didn't have to grow up in the barrio to relate to these people. But the setting is prime for these lessons and themes.

The actors playing Henry's parents (Rose Portillo & Daniel Valdez), played the young lovers in the original production. Both of their performances were strong, in both their comedy and commitment to character. You can tell how much heart they have put into this play. I also fell in love with each of the young pachuco inmates, especially in their letters to and from Alice Bloomfield (Tiffany Dupont), their dedicated press representative at the beginning of act II (my favorite scene). Brought to life by their bold, specific character choices, each one has the opportunity to bring the audience into their souls through the art of the letter, while also confessing a little playful romantic interest towards Alice. I love this scene because we see how far these boys are from the dangerous criminals the press portrays them as. They express their real concerns for their families and communities during their time in prison, confiding in Alice to bring their truth to the media.

"Find them guilty of murder, and you will ruin the spirit of racial justice in America." -George Shearer

View fullsize

Overall, audiences have been even extremely supportive of this show. Even when it was shaky at first preview, there was an overwhelming vocal response at nearly every scene: hoots, laughs, applause, even booing at certain characters making Henry's life harder. Standing ovation material. At every performance you will be sure to find supporters in actual Pachuco inspired styles from bouffant hair to classic "drapes." Even if you don't speak Spanish, you'll still get all the feels and laughs, and if you do, I'm sure it's all the better. It's fun just being at this event. This is definitely the hottest celebration of LA in town. We're proud of it. You can feel it.

What I didn't

Have you ever received a love letter that was mostly well-intended, but at some points you were like, "...TMI..."? Like the guy should have quit while he was ahead? There were moments of the play that were just a tad TMI, as far as length, character and sometimes music.

On my drive to the Taper for that first preview, I was on the phone with a good friend of mine who works as the artistic assistant of The Writers Theatre in Chicago. "I'm on my way to Zoot Suit tonight," I told her.

"Oh. Weird."

"Why? Have you seen it?"

"No. I've only read it. I researched it since it's by a playwright of color and we need that voice in our season. But it was weird on the page at least."

Although I can see how this play might come off differently on book, I do think it has a transformative effect on stage, which is the point of a play. Since the play's original conception in 1978, the script has only had minor changes, a few musically and some to give the show a deeper focus on the female experience surrounding this story. However, for such a long play, I felt like the ending was a bit smacked on at the end. Nearing the end of the play, I felt like we went from point W to point Z. It's one of those moments when you're sitting there like, "Oh. Ok, so I guess that turned out ok, but I don't really understand how we got here." Structurally the ending was what bothered me the most about this production. That, and the relationship/love dynamic at the end seemed a little unbecoming to the hero of the play we had just fallen in love with. I felt like some of the choices surrounding his relationships did not put this culture in a good light and left me liking Henry less at the end of the play, even though we still honor him as the hero.

It should also be noted that on this same drive, separate phone call, my father expressed how much he had enjoyed the original production, and that he remembered it being a huge hit. I wish I could have seen the original so badly so that I could compare the two!

And on THAT note, after act I on my second visit to the show I spoke with a patron named Raina who had seen the original production as a little girl. She was loving this 2017 production so far. She said she might even like it better than the first time, as this was a bigger, flashier production than before. I agreed and told her that I wished I had seen the original more stripped down version. I did feel like the production quality was a bit showy and commercial, a bit too "Broadway." I was craving a bit more grunge and intimacy in the scenes to bring me back to the edginess of this point in history, in this location. However, Raina assured me that this production, even with its sharpness and flair, still shared the same intimacy, pertinence and powerful characters of the original, and that was what mattered most. She emphasized that she had seen the film at least ten times; she was a Zoot Suit fan for life!

View fullsize

What does this show make me want to change about myself? If this show is supposed to be a love letter to Los Angeles, I think it succeeds. It makes me proud to be from LA and it makes me want to feel that way more. I know so little about this stage of history in my own city, that it makes me want to be more historically versed on exactly what went down here, throughout the many years of our heritage and growth. The forties and beyond. And before that too. The character of Alice also inspires me to be an ally to minorities, especially in times like these. Every effort matters, no matter how small, no matter who motions it. Everyone has something to offer. The political relevance of this play today is nearly haunting. 

Zoot Suit has now been extended through April 2nd at the Mark Taper Forum at Music Center in downtown Los Angeles. The show is selling out quickly, so your best bet to join in on this historic LA experience would be at a Tues-Thurs performance.

Adler & Gibb

I knew nothing about the play. But you had me at "previously performed and published by London's acclaimed Royal Court Theatre." Love that place.

I'm really glad I stayed for the post show conversation of this performance. This is one of those experimental, abstract productions that can either go way over your head or you kind of "choose your own adventure" what symbols within the show are purposeful or meaningful to you. With that being said, what I have to say here is my personal experience of the production, which could and should be completely different from your own.

View fullsize

Relatively bare stage apart from some significant people and props

There are two stories running simultaneously thought Adler & Gibb by Tim Crouch, both focused on the fascinating visual/performance artists Janet Adler and Margaret Gibb. In one, a student is presenting a clear, detailed, slideshow presentation of the life's work and death conspiracy surrounding acclaimed artist Janet Adler and her partner Margaret Gibb. In the other, a budding actress named Louise works intensely with her theatrical coach to capture and portray Adler's lifestyle for a potential biopic on the iconic artist.

 I made some notes during the production of some of their pieces of art, quotes and intriguing historical points that I wanted to research later, while working on this review. Apparently they had been championed by Andy Warhol, known for defying norms within the contemporary art world, especially in New York City, and some suspicion still surrounded wether Gibb had played any role in Adler's overdose. I hadn't gotten around the the research yet, and of course I was procrastinating a little, as one does. A few nights later I found myself bowling in East LA with a group of friends. One of them, a set designer by trade, had also seen the show this past week. I hadn't really processed my experience of it with anyone yet. So my jaw basically hit the floor when he told me that the characters Janet Adler and Margaret Gibb were completely fictional. The context of the fact-filled academic presentation, the truthful references and thoughts of the on-stage Gibb character, and the specified world of the play, though abstract, seemed to imply historical accuracy. So I was completely shocked. The play had me take it for a truth, which kind of flipped my initial impressions of it onto a whole new plane. 

I don't think this has ever happened to me before. 

View fullsize

Based on my assessment, the play became less and less abstract as it progressed. Maybe I was was just getting used to the style, I'm not totally sure. There were times, I would say more so in the beginning when the characters used very little blocking and just their voices to act out the scene, that I got a little bored and the story felt a little slow. A close, highly regarded patron friend of mine said that she couldn't stand the academic storyline, of the student giving the presentation and that this element of the show could be completely done away with. I disagreed with her because I felt like it was that character that kept me grounded in the story, that every time I started to drift from the actress character and the objectives within her plot progression, I could always count on the student to bring me back to some rooted "fact" about Adler, that would eventually build upon the "truth" Louise was striving to claim. 

"Commit to your fear, identify your character's objective, overcome your obstacle, get what you want."  

There are some interesting ideas floating around in this piece, about how we idolize artists, how we can become obsessed with them. How as artists we can become obsessed with our practice. How we can use someone else's success to further our own. Looking back on the show it's actually very clever how these ideas are exemplified across multiple fronts, apart from the obvious. There are many props used throughout the show that we can choose to add meaning to, or not. Throughout the show a young girl is dictated directions from an on-stage stage manager of sorts through a headset and microphone. In the beginning this definitely seemed weird, but began to form a place in each of the character's stories, as they were dictating others or being dictated themselves. The show affected me as in artist in many contrasting ways, some that I probably can't even articulate here. The play made me want to take new risks theatrically, in rehearsals, as far as focusing solely on one element of performance at a time, and not being afraid to spend that time. In a very backwards way the play relaxed me a little (see how the closing video affects you, especially in comparison to the drama you have just witnessed). The character's mention "letting the nature in," which has both positive and negative consequences within the story, depending on your outlook. Oh gosh this play is subjective! It also makes me want to try and question what I take as truth, considering my initial immediate trust in the so-called historical context of the play. How many times have I done that before? What do I believe that might not be all that true? Time for a fact check. 

"What do they say--you die twice--once when you die and again the last time your name is ever mentioned."

Adler & Gibb carries on a short run at the Kirk Douglas Theatre in Culver City though January 29th. Take a look and let me know how it affects you. I have a feeling each patron will have a very unique experience with this one.

Bloodletting

The Atwater Village theatre complex in the heart of town is one of my favorite little theatre spots. The companies that perform here are trendsetters that continuously turn out content, styles and idea that push the norms of theatre. The complex exists in a very residential area, with houses and apartments facing the theaters on the opposite side of the generally quiet street. For some reason this always makes me feel like I'm visiting a little theatre town/residency/village, which would pretty much be my dream.

This Saturday I was grateful to have an opportunity to catch a performance of Bloodletting by Boni B. Alvarez. Put up by Playwrights Arena, a champion of new works, diversity within content and the Los Angeles playwright, this extended run originally performed at the Skylight Theatre is now playing at the Atwater Village Theatre. What I knew going in: the show took place in the Philippines, the run had been extended, it was now Ovation recommended.

Bloodletting tells the story of Farrah and Bosley Legazpi (played by Myra Cris Ocenar and Boni B. Alvarez), a brother and sister who venture to the Philippines to scatter their father's ashes in an ancient underground river. When a severe rainstorm ceases all airport traffic, the two happen upon the closest "safest" place, a bed and breakfast of sorts run by Jenry Flores (Alberto Isaac) and his granddaughter LeeLee (Anne Yatco). As the storm rages on, mysteries of their father and extended ancestry slowly begin to unfold. Farrah begrudgingly surrenders that she just might possibly be an aswang, an individual with magical powers that can be used for good, but may be instigated by taboo practice considered violent by a traditional society. LeeLee helps Farrah to cope with the magic she has inherited, giving her a historical account of aswangs on the islands as well as some family stories, some heartwarming, some bloodcurdling. Farrah must then decide if she will chose to deny it all or accept and learn to control her power. (I bet you can guess what favorite line from the Spiderman films I want to mention.) Meanwhile, Jenry gives Bosley stories, strategies and coping mechanisms for living with aswang loved ones. 

Stylistically, this show was not my favorite, but there were aspects of it that I did like. I'm not really a big fan of the whole magical realism genre. Although I appreciated the cultural folklore, I was more interested in the fascinating cultural differences in communication, relationships and daily ritual. As someone very unfamiliar with this dialect, I thought the language and accents sounded beautiful and I loved listening to Jenry and LeeLee speak to their Americanized guests. The fully realized set really brought me into the thick, wet jungle of the Philippines and Jenry's traditional bamboo hut style home. I liked Farrah and Bosley's family dynamic and differences as brother and sister, I just kind of lost interest in the whole aswang conflict. Which could totally be me, the magical element just messed with my suspension of disbelief and kind of got me out of it at times. I felt like there was more potential for me to get even more freaked out by the context and the danger that was looming in their situation.

What did the show make me want to change about myself? To be honest, if you asked me right when I walked out of the theater I would have said "not much." But looking back on my notes, now I would probably say that it would make me ask more of my family about our history (which I actually have been doing more often since the holidays) and also to check in with my family more frequently and informally. We do take our families for granted, and it's not until they have passed on that the questions we have always wanted to ask them find the words in our minds to be asked. I also began to think about how much our families know about us, and when people outside our families know more about us than the people we are supposed to be closest with.

This was not my personal favorite show. However, I enjoyed enough of it artistically that I absolutely look forward to supporting more Playwrights Arena productions in the future. You can catch Bloodletting at the Atwater Village Theatre now through January 29th.

The Lion

I am always wary of the one man show. Especially a one man musical performance. But I heard this one was pretty good and that it had some international acclaim, so of course I went.

Throughout the first few numbers I kept wondering to myself I was listening to a true story. Maybe he's just a really good storyteller, I thought.

By about the fourth number, I knew that there was no way this could not be a true story. Wow.

"Guitar: my greatest source of joy."

In The Lion, Benjamin Scheuer very honestly, openly, seamlessly, emotionally, acoustically and electrically tells us his incredible life journey. What we see on stage is Ben and about seven different guitars. No sheet music to be found, just this amazingly cute guy and his acoustic guitar, opening the front page to the story of his life that started with a "Cookie-tin Banjo" crafted for him by his father. I feel like a child listening to his story, of his painful yet beautiful relationship with his dad, his struggling to cope with his dad's passing, the sights, sounds and romance of young adulthood New York, battling cancer and his personal realization of what family is. I feel like a child because I never once find myself guessing what might happen, it just falls out into the room as we hang on his every word. Ben's admitting to never having trained as an actor at the post show discussion had more than a few people gasping in surprise; major props to director Sean Daniels who had us listening there with open ears and eyes from the edges of our seats.

Definitely a little Moritz Stiefel action going on in this angsty "Saint Rick" number, while cooped up in his boarding school dorm with his trusty electric guitar.

The musical variety within the piece was beautifully pieced together to present an array of musical styles and sounds while weaving together Ben's compelling journey. What this man can do with a guitar pretty much blew my mind and I will DEFINITELY be giving his studio recordings a listen on Spotify (DISCLAIMER: I actually have it playing right now) (DISCLAIMER: I have been listening to it on repeat for days). At the post show conversation, he mentioned that even though this is the final series of performances in his nearly three and a half year world tour, producers of the show have considered continuing it further with a new actor in the role of Ben. "I don't care the gender of whoever plays me, I don't care what their race is," he told us, "I would love to see that, who plays me and what they bring to the story. They just have to be able to play the guitar for this show." He went on to tell us that he had practiced just the opening riff for the first number for hours a day for weeks before being able to play it correctly. He told us that initially the show had been much harder for him musically, as he had written music that was very challenging, almost too challenging for him. Three and a half years later, he can play it while having a conversation, it's second nature. So, it's hard to imagine anyone else mastering this music, paired with the emotional connection to it, in the way that he has done. To get an idea of the sound, it was almost like Glen Hansard performing a Jason Robert Brown show with a few cameos by Norbert Leo Butz and some nods to Spring Awakening, in the best way possible. The opening sequence even reminded me a little of the sounds of Bela Fleck. Throughout the performance I'm sitting there mesmerized, and in between beats thinking that he should compose music for films; this is amazing.

Ben paints a very clear, musical picture of what it is like to to love a family member, even when they treat you poorly. As a child he does not really try to understand why his father is so good to him sometimes, giving him the greatest gift he could ever ask for, music, and then go ahead and berate, condescend and belittle him for seemingly inexplicable reasons. He explores the love/hate relationships that lie within our closest family ties. Through his story, he points out that we intrinsically we go on loving them. What this show changed in me is my accepting of that. Sometimes I'll be harsh with myself, thinking, how can I go on loving them when they're "bad" like this? Sometimes we can't help but love, and that is a good thing. Because maybe they need our love in that moment.

I wasn't sure if I should share the only thing I didn't love about this show...because it is personal and subjective...and overall I really do like this show and was absolutely moved by it (definitely shed some tears during the number where dead dad gives mom a phone call)... but here goes. The show gave me a little bit of social angst. Because I feel like this was little bit of a #richboyproblems story thread. Yes, the struggles are universal. We all deal with death, depression, illness, broken hearts and hopefully the healing power of music. But, most people's families are not able to move abroad to the UK after their father's death, for no reason, and then send their kids to boarding school. I didn't get the feeling that the mother had any type of career, and as the father was a Harvard and Columbia graduate, there was probably some life insurance/family trust looking out for them. In the beginning of the play Ben is wearing this adorable blue suit and gradually removes pieces of it throughout the play until he's barefoot in his pants and shirt only. I thought this might be symbolic of sheding a uniform his father might have worn and slowly learning to "play guitar like me," instead of like his father, whom he yearned to play like from a young age. We never hear about Ben acquiring any type of income while living in New York with is girlfriend, where they can seemingly see the (Brooklyn?) bridge from their bedroom. In his battle against cancer the struggle lies in the physical and not the financial. His mother and brothers move back from England to take care of him in Manhattan. I still don't know what they do for work, but maybe that is the point.  After beating cancer he has the luxury of retreating for seven weeks to "some golden castle town" where he is able to spend time with himself privately, gain back his health, hair and natural body weight. As a result he begins composing music for this show and three and a half years later he's traveled the world telling his story. Where is the money coming from? I'm making a lot of assumptions here; there is so much I don't know. Maybe there wasn't room in the music to articulate on these factors. By leaving them out, I personally am thinking about them more. But I would guess that most of the upper middle class white audience at the Geffen Playhouse is not. If I was raised in a similar socioeconomic level as Ben, I'm sure none of this would have even crossed my mind. But I was not, so it did.

Aside from THAT, I'm confident this show will move you in some capacity. If you like NPR, you will probably like this show. And honestly, just writing this review cannot express how essential and powerful Ben's music is to telling this story. Please see for yourself.

Benjamin Scheuer will be performing The Lion at the Geffen Playhouse in Westwood through February 19th. New performances have just been added and this might be your last chance to see it anywhere.

The Wholehearted

Ah. My home sweet LA theatre home, the Kirk Douglas. Home of new works, one-man/woman shows, off-beat musicals, experimental theatre, lobby activities, post show conversations and cutting edge content. Home of my now-rusty bicycle until I finally bought a car a few years ago. Home of the Douglas Plus: a short week to two week mini run in addition to the regular full-length runs throughout the season. Next stop The Wholehearted, conceived and created by Stein / Holum Projects.

View fullsize

The creators describe the show as a duet. Between the camera man and Dee. Live video plays an internal, powerful part in the production.

I was intrigued upon hearing about the Kirk Douglas taking on this show, as this originally Brooklyn-based duo of writer/director Deborah Stein and performer/director Suli Holum has a history of specific, thought-provoking stories told through innovative techniques. In The Wholehearted, we are artfully, gradually invited into the gritty aftermath of Dee Crosby, world-class professional boxer, (played by Suli). In this one-woman performance, we learn a much more than you'd expect from a one act about this complex, eccentric, beautiful character. Through a live video testimonial happening before our very eyes, Dee records for her first love, Carmen, her plans to meet with her again. She tells Carmen she plans to somehow take revenge on her husband, Charlie, who allegedly stabbed and shot her in their home years earlier. But now Dee is back in the ring, actually literally living there, camping out in the gym. Charlie has recently been released early of his sentence and although Dee is stronger and quicker than ever, she feels threatened and fearful of returning home. Though flashbacks, video and some incredible country-rock inspired original numbers, we get the idea that going forward, she's not up to dealing with his abuse.  Suli did a truly amazing job of transforming into Dee. At the show's inception four years ago, she took on the challenge of training as a boxer. At this stage in the game, she's a boarder-line pro, and the choreography from the original production had to be vamped up for this new run, because now it's too easy for her! You do not want to cross this little muscle, especially in this role. Her ability to vividly portray such an array of characters is astounding. She affectionately convinces you that she's being beaten up, verbally, physically, in the ring, and in the home. Even though she's the only body you're watching on stage.  

View fullsize

It's not easy to tell in the dark, but the in the round seating paired perfectly with the in the ring storytelling, bringing us one step closer, up close and personal with Dee.

The use of video in this show draws us closer into Dee's world almost more so than traditional theatre allows, perhaps to convey the evasiveness of the media and how threatening and inhuman it can be towards athletes and celebrities alike. Not to discredit the rest of the production, but the sound effects were my favorite part of the show. I'm usually not that kind of viewer, but the dings of the bell, the swooshes of missed throws, blasts of knockout punches and reaction of the commentators allowed me to close my eyes and feel the stakes of the ring and story. Had there not been a traditional, respectful, rule-abiding audience seated in the round, it would have felt exactly like a real boxing match. However, the people sitting right next to me were "secretly" eating Red Vines. Interesting...

I will admit, this show was not my personal cup of tea. I was impressed with the work of this collective and I appreciate their storytelling style and risks, although I don't think it moved me on a deeply personal level. Not every piece of theatre can do that, and every play will affect various individuals differently. Using song as a storytelling device in this particular narrative did not work for me. I believed her as a boxer; layering on the musical aspect was not effective, to me. I can see how it might be more powerful to people affected by abusive situations or even those more actively involved in the professional fighting circle. And that definitely came though in the few but powerful post show conversations I lead in the lobby, where Suli was gracious enough to join in for each discussion. I definitely want to see more shows by this collective in the future. 

The show made me want to learn more about this sport and culture. Not going to lie, I hopped on YouTube to grab a few boxing moves for my back pocket. Of course I was not able to execute them a quarter as well as Suli. She has chops. More importantly, the show raised my awareness of domestic violence. I'm privileged to live in an environment where I assume that everyone is healthy and safe, that everyone is ok. But unfortunately we just can't assume that anymore. The show makes me want to check in more often and hopefully contribute to preventing cases like this, little by little. 

The Wholehearted runs December 2-11 at the Kirk Douglas Theatre in Culver City.

Amélie: A New Musical

When I found out that the iconic French film Amélie was being adapted for the stage in musical form, I was concerned. This is one of my favorite foreign films and it is dynamic for many reasons. The vivid, swift style of cinematography is an active story-teller, bringing the character Amélie’s humorously tragic, yet hopeful history to life. Each character has a quirky, dark, comical attribute, yet the spirit of love is alive though the talent and distinct beauty of the actors who portray them. These did not seem like the type of characters to burst into song, but I am always curious and open to watching a playwright or director’s interpretation of a well-known (or otherwise) story unfold on stage.

View fullsize

In the pre-Broadway opening of Amélie: A New Musical at the Ahmanson Theatre, it would seem as though my concerns were fulfilled. Starring Hamilton headliner Phillipa Soo in the title role, the show seemed like the most Broadway-safe production of Amélie that could have been created, but I guess financially that is the point. I suppose that for such a dynamic film, I was hoping for a more visionary or groundbreaking theatrical approach.

One of the reasons this story works as a film is that we are able to deal with many plot points, often simultaneously because of the quick cuts and transitions on screen. On stage, since this is a much more intimate experience, since we are there with the living, breathing actors, it just seemed like there was a lot going on and not enough time to earn the moments or conclusions to each mini mystery. In the film it works, on stage it did not.

View fullsize

Not surprisingly, Soo is the highlight of this production. Two friends of mine that had already seen the show told me that they couldn’t help but imagine Soo singing her role in Hamilton while watching her as Amélie from their fourth row seats. At first I thought this was a bit naive, but I found myself doing the exact same thing on opening night. Her voice is so incredibly gorgeous, that you can’t help but try and imagine her singing a better song. In a recent NPR interview, director Pam MacKinnon commented that Soo had originally been workshopping this production when she was given the opportunity to workshop Hamilton. The show is going to Broadway in March and yes, she will probably receive a Tony nomination for Best Leading Actress in a Musical. But once again, she won’t win. Because although she is amazingly talented, she had no opportunity to prove herself in this production: no emotionally taxing transformation, no complex physical choreography, and no money note. This show is too easy for her. 

It wasn’t until the musical was almost over, and I was severely craving for it to pull-through in a deeper, Frencher way, that I realized something about Amélie. This is a story about an awkward waitress and a boy who works in a sex shop, not because he wants to or because his career lies in this area of interest, but because it provides him financial means. This is a story about two regular, probably struggling, people trying to find love and each other. Amélie sees the world through different eyes which is what makes the story fanciful, dark, humorous and fun. I wish the musical had made me feel that more, but this was more of something I recalled on just by putting the plot pieces together.

View fullsize

Opening scene tableau. In English theatre context, a tableau describes a dramatic, moving picture, a living moving scene. In old French, it means "picture" or "painted target." In new French it means "board" or "table."

What does this show make me want to change about myself? For me at least, the big take away of the show is that we must not be afraid to face new things in life that may seem scary to us, whether that be talking to a crush, transitioning to a new home, letting go of a comfort object or moving forward past grief from a death. The play makes me want to take more risks in communication, with people I know, people I meet, people I want to meet and people I may be interested in romantically. It’s exhilarating and frightening just thinking about it! Here’s a personal example. I met a boy, another writer for a local paper, at a friend’s birthday party over the weekend. Then the other night on a solo outing to the theatre, I saw him again and greeted him by name. He was surprised to see me, and so it would seem nervous from the onset, but we ended up sitting together, talking together and talking after the show as well. I couldn’t help but wonder: if I had been seated next to him, having not met him at the birthday, would I have talked to him? Probably not. Would he have talked to me? Certainly not. But this same fear is the conflict Amélie faces throughout her entire story. Embarrassment and rejection are daunting. But, you will truly never know what will happen unless you try. I suppose the show succeeds in driving these themes somewhat, but I think could also be me recalling on the film.

Although this was not one of the better musicals I’ve seen, I wonder if I would feel differently if I had never seen the film before. Amélie: A New Musical runs at the Ahmanson Theatre at the Music Center in downtown Los Angeles December 4 through January 15. It will continue on its Broadway run at the Walter Kerr Theatre on March 9, 2017.

Icebergs

While slurping down some pre-show boba milk tea in the Geffen Playhouse lobby with my stage managing friend Mercedes (there serving as a production assistant Donald Margulies’s The Model Apartment at the smaller Geffen Space, the Audrey Skirball Kenis Theatre), her first comment to me was that I had certainly dressed the part for the show I was about to see. I looked down: tan cashmere blend sweater, chunky J.Crew be-jeweled collar, purple glasses, suede Madewell pumps...If anything this was one of my more casual theatre looks, I was wearing (premium) denim after all. I asked her what she meant. “You’ll see.”

View fullsize

A little cast-love shot

Icebergs by Yale School of Drama graduate Alena Smith gives us an honest, humorous, yet insightful look into the trials and victories of the mid-thirties/pushing-forty creative professional. Set in the very present day, Calder (played by Nate Corddry), a young, successful Indie filmmaker and his aspiring actress girlfriend Abigail (Jennifer Mudge) own a styled, well-furnished home in the hip, rolling hills of Silverlake. Calder’s old buddy from Missouri, Reed (Keith Powell), comes to stay a few nights with the couple while he attends a scientific convention at UCLA. He confides in Calder that he has been dying to get away from his young daughter and expecting wife just to be by himself for once and hopes he and Calder can partake in as many parties, drugs and drinking excursions as possible on this Day of the Dead weekend. Calder laughs and agrees that they will try their best before confiding in Reed that he and Abigail have been trying to have a baby of their own. Soon Abigail's childhood friend Molly (Rebecca Henderson), a newlywed lesbian lawyer rumored to be a witch, as well as Nicky (Lucas Near-Verbrugghe), Calder’s suave, yet dense agent, turn up for the evening. Instead of heading out to a friend’s costume party, with everyone’s relationship and existence baggage out on the table, they decide to stay in for the evening and create their own, because, “it’s a weird fact about LA. Nobody likes to leave their house.” Add a little alcohol and some premium weed; before you know it, even more conflict and potential resolution bubbles to the surface.

View fullsize

When I re-met with Mercedes after the performance, she asked me if I had liked the show. I hesitated, then eventually said yes. I had to think about why I liked it. And then why I had to think before making a definite statement.

The play felt like the pilot episode of a new series, introducing us to the characters while leaving room at the end for their relationships, conflicts and goals to further develop in later episodes. Through her dialogue, Smith’s commentary on this age/lifestyle are on point and part of what makes this show so funny. Boys turned men by societal necessity, nearly ripping off their button-down shirts to return to the comfort of their jeans and screen-printed tees, the idolatry of pet cats, selfies, panic attacks, the naming of plants, the popularity of improv in urban settings, industry pressure vs. creative integrity, actually liking songs we love to hate, and obsessing over “meaninglessness” in our culture, literature and media: these are things I find myself faced with every week in LA. Part of that is disturbing, part of it is beautiful and part of it is hilarious. Because what else can you do but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all? Smith has collected all of these little quirks (and then some) and artfully spun them into the characters we meet in Icebergs. And if you’ve lived in LA long enough, you may have even dated someone like each of these characters. It’s not a surprise that Smith is getting recognized for her writing talents on shows like The Newsroom and The Affair.

The acting is...good. Molly and Nicky I felt were the best written and acted characters, also excellent opposing styles of comic relief. They both have a generous share of belly-laugh lines. The actress playing Abigail was asked to come on two days before preview performances began when Thora Birch dropped out of the show for undisclosed reasons. She did well, but with only days to prepare, probably didn’t get the full prep she needed to fully develop her character. Could also be the writing, not totally sure, these are special circumstances.

While driving from Westwood to West Hollywood for a drink, Mercedes and I discussed how frustrated, sometimes infuriated we were by the characters. Indecisiveness, privilege, flippancy, and possibly co-dependence were scattered throughout the characters and it pissed us off. But, maybe that is also because we know so many real-life characters like this that already frustrate us. We also felt that the ending of the show was a bit abrupt, especially after a “first act” that kept us guessing when exactly the conflict would arise, for...kind of a long time.

What did this show make we want to change about myself? I’m not 100% sure right off the bat, which I think was the source of my hesitation when asked whether I liked the show as a whole. Looking back it makes me want to stray from the stereotypical behavior the characters are calling out in the play, but by attempting to deviate from the norm, I’m upholding the very mission of hipsterism. So I can’t win this battle. But maybe that is the point.

I recommend this show, for its cultural relevance, some excellent, hilarious characters and what it set out to do. I don’t know if this is the best play you will see at the Geffen this season, but it’s worth the ninety minutes and will cause you to think...about something. This is a good date night show for people in their 30s, for sure. Definitely something to discuss over cocktails after. The show runs through December 18th at the Geffen Playhouse in Westwood, CA.

The Beauty Queen of Leenane

Anyone who knows me knows that the Mark Taper Forum is my favorite theatre venue in California. The morning of opening night of The Beauty Queen of Leenane by Martin McDonagh, I went to get a haircut and learned from my hairdresser that that it was also his favorite. An old actress girlfriend of his (I wonder who?!) had performed there a number of times and he informed me that structurally it was modeled after the Gutherie Theatre in Minnesota. “Not a bad seat in the house,” he told me. I couldn’t agree more. Plus, there is something magical about the Taper, that based on the set design, gives it the ability to feel very up-close and intimate, or very expansive and spread out.

This show was up close and personal, in both senses of the phrase. We spend approximately two hours in what is more or less a sparse, deteriorating home in the tiny village of Leenane (Lee-NAN) in the county of Gallway, Ireland. The Irish charm and crassness of the play brought me back to my days studying abroad there, and made me miss it more. We are introduced to the mundane (almost so much so that it’s painful) lifestyle of seventy-year-old Mag Folan and her literal 40-year-old-virgin daughter Maureen. Their love/hate, nearly Stockholm syndrome relationship is complex, yet one I think many can connect to on some familial level. Maureen feels obligated to take care of her crotchety, ailing, devious mother while her sisters refuse to have have anything to do with the women. She has been caring for Mag for about the past twenty-five years. The audience can see that Maureen is dying inside, as she begrudgingly waits on Mag’s every beck and call. So when Pato Dooley, an old flame of Maureen’s, returns to Leenane from London for a local send-off party, we’re wishing just about as much as her that their reunion will blossom into a love that she, at this stage, just about needs to survive.

View fullsize

Original concept photography for the Druid Theatre production

After a number of somewhat hit-or-miss seasons at the Taper, I cannot urge you enough to see this play. Do not judge a play by its poster. Fortune cookie review: incredible writing, astounding acting. This could be the greatest dark comedy I have ever seen performed. McDonagh’s script will have you laughing hysterically one minute and cringing, stomach churning the next. His exploration of these women and their relationships is as equally moving as it is haunting. So it’s no wonder that Marie Mullen returns to this script, now in the role of Mag after winning the Tony award for best leading actress in a play,  playing the role of Maureen, eighteen years ago in the original Broadway production. The script stands strong, but no one in the cast falls slightly short of delivering their character’s spirit, prerogative and humor truthfully to their audience. With the cast imported straight out of Ireland’s renowned Druid Theatre, it’s refreshing, if not awakening to see such a fully realized, developed, powerful play on the Taper stage, void of LA celebrity cameo’s, limited rehearsal time and workshop level scripts. This, is theatre.

View fullsize

One of my favorite scenes. Their chemistry is awesome. But in a show constructed as remarkably as this, they are all favorites in a way.

Whenever I leave a show, I always ask myself, what does this make me want to change? This production spoke to my element of change on a personal level (vs. a global, community or political level, ect.). I would watch Maureen interacting with Pato and cringe at her choice of words and behavior, probably because I have also said/done some similar things around men, just not all in the same horrifying scene. So the play makes me want to watch my behavior involving romantic situations with men. The play also makes me want to pick my battles and be kinder to those around me. Because astonishingly, that is not always the case. We have some extreme characters in this play representing the worst of these poor qualities, but through them, we can easily see it broken down into our own lives. Well, for me at least.

The play brought me from probably zero interest in reading Martin McDonagh’s work, to like, one hundred. This could be one of the darkest, funniest dark comedies I have ever seen and his melding of the two are incredibly impressive. I’m very interested in reading more work like this or seeing how his body of work varies from this style. I had forgotten that he is also the author of The Pillowman, which I may also need to revisit. Also, love that Irish-ness. Can’t help it I guess; it’s in me blood.

I highly recommend this production. The show runs November 9 through December 18 at the Mark Taper Forum at the Music Center in downtown Los Angeles. It will continue on its US tour to the Brooklyn Academy of Music in January 2017 before heading to Pittsburgh and Ann Arbor.