"CURTAIN CALLS"
By Pat Launer
04/14/06
A jazzy Side Man makes family strife
A
man is cowed by his Constant Wife
While
Forbidden Broadway’s at riotous play
Spoofing the shows on The Great White Way.
SEMPER FIDELIS
THE SHOW: The Constant Wife, written in 1926 by W.
Somerset Maugham and set in a
THE BACKSTORY: The plays of W.
Somerset Maugham are rarely performed these days, although he is having a bit
of a resurgence. In 1908, he set the record for the
greatest number of plays (four) running simultaneously in
One
of the most successful writers of the early 20th century, Maugham
was the highest paid author in the world in the 1930s. Best known as a novelist
(“Of Human Bondage,” “The Razor’s Edge,” “The Moon and Sixpence”), he was also
a prolific playwright; he wrote 20+ plays, but after Sheppey flopped in 1933, though
he lived to 1965, he never penned another play.
THE STORY: The Constant Wife is a gentle
drawing room comedy about marital manners, mores and infidelities that has an
unconventional, sort of semi-feminist/pragmatist twist. It’s interesting, isn’t
it, that many of our most quotable epigrams and most enduring commentaries (and
most brutal assaults) on Marriage come from gay men (Wilde, Coward, Williams, Albee).
Anyway, the characters
represent types and philosophies, an array of smart women and dim men. Centerstage, there’s Constance, the woman who’s “tired
of being a modern wife - a prostitute who doesn't deliver the goods!" Being well aware that her
husband is having an affair with her best friend (though everyone else is
trying to keep it from her), she embarks on a clever, year-long revenge,
gaining her financial independence and then going off to Italy with a former
suitor who’s still in her thrall. But she’ll come back to her philandering
husband, with more self-determination but still perfectly willing to compromise
in order to maintain her comfortable lifestyle and flawless décor. She simply
rearranges her emotional furniture and carries on.
Her mother, Lady Culver,
is no modern woman; rooted in the past, she dresses as if it were still 1918,
though it’s already the ‘modern age’ of 1926 -- as witnessed in this production
by the Butler (consummate pianist Cris O’Bryon) sneaking in some syncopation on
the parlor piano. Lady Culver believes that all men will stray (“it’s in their
nature”), and women must simply turn a blind eye.
The entire piece is a play on the word ‘constant’ -- from the name of
its heroine to the theme of marriage as a constant in our lives, but one in
which the partners must constantly adapt to changing expectations and
situations (including inconstancy). The language is witty, and this beautiful
production moves at a brisk clip.
THE PLAYERS: With just one misstep, the production is perfectly
cast and impeccably performed, under the forceful and effective direction of
Seret Scott, which underscores all the wickedly funny, fast-paced humor. Henny Russell, an alumna of the USD/Globe MFA program, is
delightful as Constance Middleton, making her a cool, calm, comic presence,
neither saintly nor priggish, the very essence of civilized, unruffled reason
and refined female machinations . Similarly, as her
handsome, inconstant husband, Wynn Harmon is neither buffoon nor villain,
especially amusing in his most mortified moments. Kandis Chappell brings a
wonderfully droll, dry imperiousness to the status quo-endorsing dowager
mother, and she gets all the best lines. She sums up her practical take on the
pleasures of marriage like this: “It’s nice to have someone around to tell you
you’re quite right when you know in your heart you’re quite wrong.” And as a
challenge for us all, when her daughter asks, “How does one know one is in love?,” she fires back, “The only test of being in love with
someone is: Could you use his toothbrush?” J. Paul Boehmer
(most recently seen at the Globe as Banquo in last summer’s Macbeth, blithely but precariously
balancing on a food-laden table in the ghost scene) evinces a quiet intensity
as the stoically lovelorn suitor, Bernard, exuding virile
decency under a veneer of dreariness. John Rosen makes the most of his short
but humorously explosive role as the wronged husband of the ditzy Marie-Louise,
played by Lara Phillips in an aptly flouncy,
coquettish manner, but in the production’s one misstep, expressed in some
unnamable, fluctuating accent that’s somewhere between French, Canadian,
English and who-knows-what. She seems far too mindless to be any friend of
THE PRODUCTION: The
production is stunning, awash in old-fashioned elegance. Ralph Funicello’s
high-ceilinged, marble-floored set is white on white, with opulent objets and chinoiserie in
the richly adorned niches. Globe Associate Artist Lewis Brown creates an
endless fashion show of sumptuous, monochromatic outfits for the ladies:
swirling visions in cream, dark rose, turquoise, brown/beige for the women with hauture; hot ruffly pink for Marie-Louise, with equivalent (though alas,
as dictated by style, less colorful) sartorial
splendor for the men. Chris Parry’s lighting makes it all look lavish and
splendid. The design wizardry at the Globe is one constancy
we can depend on.
THE LOCATION: At the Old Globe Theatre, through May 7.
BOTTOM LINE: Best Bet
BROADWAY OR BUST (A GUT)
THE SHOW: Forbidden Broadway: Special Victims Unit, written (as the last two
decades of Forbidden Broadway
revues
have been) by Gerard Alessandrini. Miracle Theatre Productions is hosting the
award-winning Off-Broadway cast for an exclusive 10-week engagement.
THE STORY: Okay, listen up.
Crimes are being committed against the American theater. Your mission, should
you decide to accept it, is to convulse uncontrollably as the alleged
perpetrators are skewered and brought down, spoofed unto the death, for their
heinous acts in the name of entertainment. Forbidden
Broadway is back, and they’re taking no prisoners (except you, for 90
minutes of nonstop laughter). The latest incarnation of the acclaimed show,
which recently won the 2005 Drama Desk Award for Best Musical Revue, may be the
funniest ever.
The framing device is SVU,
the Special Victims Unit, the link being Jerry Ohrbach,
who was a long-time Broadway baby (
There are derisive
references to plotless musicals, pre-recorded accompaniment, jukebox-stealing
shows, “vapid glitzy fluff” bankrolled by conglomerates (“If you want ovations,
work for corporations!”) and the boring Tony show (“straight people turn it
off”). Gut-busting send-ups of Bob Fosse dance moves, crooning Harry Connick, Jr. (in The
Pajama Game), Kathleen Turner (a man’s voice, of course), a dead-on Harvey
Fierstein (hilarious Kevin McGlynn) first in Hairspray and then, still wearing that
oversized flowery housedress, as Tevye in Fiddler
(beard added); the enduring Chita vs. Rita fracas, an old standby made fresh by
Chita’s recent Broadway show (first seen here at the Globe); this time, instead
of the movie of ‘West Side Story,” where Rita Moreno stepped into Chita
Rivera’s groundbreaking role, Rita shows up to co-opt Chita’s own life story. The Light in the Piazza gets a really
funny drubbing (flying hat and all), Robert Goulet takes a hit (as usual, for
his off-key lyric oblivion), Les Miz gets more than its share, and the
lyrics have actually changed since the last time, though the dizzying turntable
moves remain. The recently down-sized Beauty
and the Beast gets tromped (“Beauty’s been decreased”), as does Mamma Mia, and of course, The Phantom. Ethel Merman puts in an
appearance for the finale, along with Mary Martin, Rex Harrison and Yul Brynner
(“There’s No Broadway Like Our Broadway”). But there’s
lots of new stuff, about Jersey Boys
and Avenue Q, Wicked, Spamalot
and Chitty Chitty
Bang Bang. The nastiest segments take potshots at
the overhyped, talentless
Sarah Brightman (former wife of Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber,
about whom the same could be said), and Yoko Ono, who in her every act
practically begs for a thrashing; last year’s invitation was the monstrous Lennon). The laughs whoosh by with
tsunami force and frequency; prepare yourself to be
overcome.
THE PLAYERS/ THE PRODUCTION: This is the real thing;
actually, it’s better than the cast recording. These four performers are
fantastic, each one a stellar singer and incredible mimic. Tiny Jeanne Montano
is great as the floppy marionette in the
There isn’t much to the
set, but the parodic production posters adorning the theater walls are pretty
amusing: Rant, Gagtime,
Squeaky Todd (the Sweeney version that’s Teeny), etc. It’s the costumes
(Alvin Colt) that nearly steal the show; they’re not only incredibly clever,
but there are so many of them… and the changes are hair-trigger timed! The Lion King crutches
and headpieces (for “the Circle of Mice” and “Can You Feel the Pain Tonight”)
are especially comical. Alessandrini and Phillip George directed the brash
comic mayhem, and though the setup is a tad silly, it all works like crazy… and
you’d be crazy to miss it.
THE LOCATION: At the Theatre in
BOTTOM LINE: Best Bet
ALL THAT JAZZ
THE SHOW: Side Man, a semi-autobiographical
drama by Warren Leight, which won the 1999 Tony Award
for Best Play and was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize
THE STORY: Leight’s
father was a jazz musician, or side-man, hired to play for diverse groups in
various musical styles. His sometimes funny, often gut-wrenching play
simultaneously traces the decline of a marriage and the Big Band era, as jazz
had to step aside to make way for rock and roll. The narrator, Clifford, moves
in and out of the story, even retelling events that happened before he was
born, before his mother became an alcoholic and his trumpet-playing father
became an irresponsible obsessive, oblivious to everything but his music.
Jumping back and forth from 1953-1985, the play chronicles a time, a place (New
York City), the musician’s life and the disastrous effects it can have on an
already dysfunctional family.
THE PLAYERS/ THE PRODUCTION: The structure of the piece is tricky; a
narrator can be really intrusive and distancing, but skilled director/faculty
member C.J. Keith and her engaging undergraduate cast make
this jazzy riff sing. It was a coup for SDSU to snag the local premiere of the
play, and they’ve obviously really put their hearts and souls into it. The
acting requirements are daunting: there’s drug abuse and alcoholism, outrages
and meltdowns, love scenes, suicide attempts, disappointment and despair. There
are comic moments (the jazzmen’s celebration of the son’s first unemployment
check) and of course, there’s the music, including an amazing vintage recording
of Clifford Brown (“Brownie”), the best jazz trumpeter of his generation,
playing Dizzy Gillespie’s “Night in
Overall, though, the
ensemble rises admirably to the dramatic challenges. Adam Parker is endearing
as 29 year-old Clifford, recounting the horrors of his intense, extreme family.
At age 10, he’s already the full-time caregiver for his wacko mother, a role he
continues to play throughout his life, as his father becomes more distant and
ineffectual when the work dries up. Brendan Cavalier has just the right tone as
the trumpeting, adolescent father, Gene Glimmer, who’s sometimes joyful (when
it comes to the music), often depressed. As his wife, nicknamed Crazy Terry,
Katie Hunt has to be angry, drunk, hysterical and suicidal, but she manages to
bring humor and pathos to the role. Brittany Fenison
is quite credible as Patsy, a waitress at the musicians’ hangout, who’s slept
with all the guys (except Gene) at one time or another. As Gene’s cohorts and
fellow sidemen, Lloyd Roberson II is particularly potent as the strung-out Jonsey, a one-eyed junkie trombone player; Matthieu Chapman plays the lead trumpeter, Al, nicknamed
Romeo (though he doesn’t make it obvious why). Brandon Maier does a great job
with the sputtering lateral lisp (a difficult one to effect) of Ziggy, the trumpeter everyone ridicules, though he seems to
do a little better in relationships than the other guys.
The set (Chris Allison) is
an array of playing spaces (most effective is the tufted leather bar), the
lighting (Maureen Hanratty) is moody, the costumes
(Naomi Spinak, a Patté Award winner for Bat Boy, The Musical)
are wonderful at nailing the era; I especially loved those powder blue tuxedos.
In the seven years since
the show premiered, it hasn’t made it to
THE LOCATION: In the Experimental Theatre at
BOTTOM LINE: Best Bet
YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE
DANCIN’
Something wondrous this way came this week, with
a performance by the Paul Taylor Dance Company, one of
the most acclaimed modern dance troupes in the world. Newsweek dubbed Taylor “the world’s greatest living choreographer”
and the New York Times called his group “one of the most exciting, innovative
and delightful companies in the entire world.” Taylor himself described his
works as “food for the eyes,” cool-headed observations of the best and worst of
human behavior, viewed always through a lens of compassion. In his 54 years of
innovation,
This week, at the
California Center for the Arts, Escondido, the Paul Taylor Dance Company made a
one-night stop, with a local premiere from its 50-state, 50th
anniversary tour. They lived up to their reputation and influence, which was
once historically summarized by Laura Shapiro in Newsweek as follows: “Short course in modern dance: In the
beginning there was Martha Graham, who changed the face of an art form and
discovered a new world. Then there was Merce
Cunningham, who stripped away the externals and showed us the heart of
movement. And then there was Paul Taylor, who let the sun shine in.”
The program opener was all
about sunshine. Spring Rounds was just created in 2005, to music by Richard
Strauss. In this carefree rite of spring, the 14 dancers looked like
new-bloomed flowers, or sherbet scoops, but they moved like birds and
butterflies to the romantic melodies, joyfully springing, walking, hugging,
ballroom- or folk dancing, clustered in loving couples and circling, leaping
groups. There were balletic turns and long-held arabesques, backward leans and
bodies seemingly blown by the wind. Agile, fleet-footed Lisa Viola had the
principal solos here, but her dancing wasn’t as thrilling as it was later in
the program, in the heart-stopping, evening-ending “Esplanade.” The two earlier
works, “Dust” (1977) and “Esplanade” (1975) were more breathtaking, more varied
in tone.
“Dust” was by far the most macabre, a dark, athletic, stunningly
pessimistic view of the less felicitous behaviors of human beings. Performed to the Concert Champêtre of Francis Poulenc, the
piece takes on new resonance in our current wartime era. A huge, evocative,
knotted rope hangs upstage left. The costumes (Gene Moore, also responsible for
the set) look like naked, painted bodies. The moves are often angular,
knock-kneed, squatting, foot flexed and hyperextended;
the infested, infected dancers scratch themselves mercilessly, sport useless
limbs, use fabric slings to drag the ‘wounded’ on and offstage. The blind lead
the blind. Humans are reduced to animal moves and behavior. The beautifully
alarming final image is reminiscent of evolution, an interconnected lineup of development,
from the slithering, animalistic belly-crawler to an upright posture with arms
triumphantly uplifted. The stage pictures were unsettling, disturbing but
gorgeous.
The finale, “Esplanade,” is best known for its
daringly dangerous, hurtling spills of the final movement, which literally stop
the heart as women take extended running jumps into the men’s arms, never
failing to be caught, but catching our breath every time. The eight dancers, in
coral or tan, the men appearing bare-chested (costumes by John Rawlings), run,
race, chase, circle, come together, dissolve and reassemble, execute smoothly
daring slides across the width of the stage, and in formation, make strikingly
sharp turns in joyous moves set to two Bach violin concerti. The petite Viola
does her magnificent, frenzied footwork here, and ultimately throws herself
into the waiting arms of the excellent Michael Trusnovec.
Lissome Heather Berest is enigmatic, dressed in khaki
pants, not the flouncy skirts of the girls. She seems
convulsed in sadness; the others circle menacingly around her. Julie Tice
astounds when she blithely takes an exhilarating walk all over Trusnovec’s muscular body. The athleticism is extraordinary.. The precision and unpredictability are astonishing. The
lighting (by Jennifer Tipton) is stunning. But it’s those flying leaps that
stay lodged forever in memory.
…The latest Carlsbad Playreaders presentation was a reading of Laura Shaine Cunningham’s Beautiful Bodies. Close your eyes
and … the only thing missing was the commercials. Kind of a cross between “Sex and the City,”
“Friends” and “Desperate Housewives,” the overlong play concerned a group of
desperate thirtysomethings, who come together for a
baby shower (one is pregnant, no man in sight) and talk about men and sex, as
they nip and bite at each other while drinking, smoking dope and boring an
audience to tears. Who could possibly be interested in these deeply shallow
paeans to self-absorption? A laugh track would’ve helped, especially with the
onlookers decidedly leaning in the elderly direction.
Everything about the
writing was derivative and sitcomish, though there
were a few humorous lines: On weight: “I look thinner standing up.”” And the
ticking clock: “Our eggs are rotting as we speak.” The pseudo-Heady Philosophy:
“The big irony is that there is none.” “Being married gave a focus to my
discontent.” The Self-deprecation: “I play at being a waitress; I’m a wactress… I can remember all of Ophelia and none of the
specials of the day.” “I thrive on disapproval; it reminds me of home.” “You
all hate me – and you’re my best friends.” And let’s not forget the
gratuitously bitchy comments: “Looks like Salvador Dali was your contractor.”
Or the overly detailed descriptions of sexual exploits,
encounters and male organs. Ugh. And of course, it’s all wrapped up in a sappy
final friendship- lovefest.
The only good thing
about the nearly 2½ hour evening was the performances. And they were very good
indeed. As directed by New Village Arts’ Kristianne Kurner, each of the skilled
actors etched a clear-cut, if vapid and thoroughly unlikable, character: Erika
Beth Phillips as the perkily clueless preggo; Monique Gaffney as the
tightly wrapped, “I wait for no man” self-delusional host; Brooke McCormick as
a New Age airhead who has a long-term imaginary relationship with her
ex-boyfriend; Amanda Sitton who’s drinking away her boyfriend problems; Kim Strassburger very funny as a wisecracking Jewish single;
and Jessica John, darkly deep-voiced and delicious as the most hateful twit of
the lot, a discontented rich bitch with a brutal tongue. In last week’s column,
I predicted: “With that array of talent, it can’t miss.” Well, it did. It would
be a blessing to everyone if this play didn’t get a full production. If
this vidiocy is what you prefer, stay home and glue
yourself to the tube. There are far more satisfying theatrical experiences to
be had.
BARDOLATORS, UNITE!
Shakespeare’s
442nd birthday is coming up (April 23). Celebrate by attending
OUT AND ABOUT
… Remember
Sledgehammer’s provocative production of Kid
Simple: A Live Radio Drama in the Flesh, with all
those fabulous onstage sound-effects? Well, Scott Paulson is at it again. This
time, it’s LIVE from the SDMA
Ballroom: The Great Broadcast of 1926, a commemorative celebration of
the San Diego Museum of Art’s 80th birthday, staged in the form of a radio re-enactment
musical event (co-produced with the UCSD Arts Libraries). This fantasy
broadcast from a vintage nightclub setting (including live music, dancing and “mocktail refreshments”) will tell about the Museum and its
history in
…Don’t forget wild-woman
Moira Keefe in “Life With a Teenager… I’m Having a Hot Flashback.” Monday, April 17, 7:30pm
at North Coast Repertory Theatre,
… and
on Friday April 21 and Saturday, April 22, drop in on IMPROV-A-THON,
a 28-hour improv marathon to save San Diego Theatre Sports. There’s a
new show every two hours. At The Fun House, near
Cygnet Theatre:
… newest tenant in the
under-renovation NTC: the Actors
Alliance of San Diego, which will be leasing space in Building 175, aka
Dance Place San Diego. With membership of over 500 local actors, AASD also
boasts a library of more than 4000 scripts. The organization will move its
offices into the new facility, and will also have access to a rehearsal space,
which is available for bookings by the acting community. For info, contact Sue
Oswald: sue@actorsalliance.com,
www.actorsalliance.com.
…
and in other news, 6th @ Penn is offering an encore presentation of
the Patté Award-winning performance of Monique Gaffney in I Have Before Me a Remarkable Document Given to Me by a Young
Lady from Rwanda. Dale Morris co-stars in this heart-rending one-act. May
7-10 only. www.sixthatpenn.com
… also
at 6th @ Penn, and also including the ubiquitous Monique Gaffney, the San Diego Black Ensemble Theatre and The Chronos
Theatre Group are joining forces for another of the “classics from around
the world” series -- a staged reading of Gangsters, by Maishe Mayponya, directed by Rhys Greene. In this searing drama,
a gut-wrenching commentary on free speech, an African
Poet is accused of inciting foment with her poetry. When she refuses to stop, she
is arrested, threatened, tortured and murdered. Other cast members are Joe
Powers and Kirk Bradley. Monday, April 17 at 7:30pm.
For information or reservations call 619 280 5650
'NOT TO BE MISSED!' (Critic’s Picks)
(For full text of all
past reviews, use the Search engine at www.patteproductions.com)
Side Man – a stirring production of
a poignant, autobiographical play; the first local production of the Pulitzer
Prize finalist
In the Experimental Theatre at SDSU, through April
16.
The Constant Wife – a gorgeously designed,
fast-paced and funny production
At the Old Globe Theatre, through May 7.
Forbidden Broadway:
Special Victims Unit –
drop-dead uproarious. RUN, don’t saunter, to see this
side-splitting spoof of Broadway shows, with the mega-talented Off Broadway
cast. Limited engagement; what are you waiting for?
At the Theatre in
Tongue of a Bird –fascinating but flawed
play, wonderful production, excellently directed and finely acted
At the
The Housekeeper – a goofy romantic comedy
that isn’t as dark, bleak, funny or screwy as it thinks it is, but the actors
are milking every minute (and they could go even further)
At
6th @ Penn Theatre, through April 26
What the
At 6th @ Penn Theatre, through April
30.
My Fair Lady – spectacularly inventive
production; beautifully designed, directed, acted and sung
At Cygnet Theatre, EXTENDED to May 7.
Have your own Last Supper (of the Passover or
Easter variety) – and then head to the theater!
©2006 Patté
Productions Inc.