A new appreciation for Merchant of Venice

by Jenni Morin

Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice is a comedy on the cusp of tragedy as mistaken identities take a backseat to hypocrisy and vengeance. The Classic Theatre’s production of Merchant of Venice, now playing through March 1, continues the season’s theme of duty and justice with an intriguing script and powerful performances.

While adhering to the comedic staples of marriage, disguises and suggestive servants, Merchant of Venice also offers the drama of betrayal and desperation. Bassanio seeks out his friend Antonio, the title character, to loan him money so he may travel to Belmont to present himself as a suitor to Portia, who cannot seem to rid herself of unworthy suitors. Since Antonio has no cash on hand with all his ships at sea, he tells Bassanio he will vouch for him if he gets a loan. Bassanio asks Shylock the Jewish moneylender for the ducats, to which he reluctantly agrees due to Antonio’s anti-Semitic proclamations and rude treatment. Bassanio heads to Belmont to woo Portia, Shylock’s daughter runs away with the Christian Lorenzo and Antonio’s ships are lost at sea. Upon hearing the news that Antonio must pay his debt with a pound of his flesh, Bassanio rushes to his friend’s aid, followed by Portia and her maid Nerissa who pose as a doctor and law clerk to stop Shylock from killing Antonio. They are successful in arguing the case and Shylock is forced to give half his fortune to Antonio, convert to Christianity and leave his estate to his daughter and new son-in-law.

The Classic’s production of Merchant of Venice features an impeccable cast led by Nick Lawson as Bassanio, Allan S. Ross as Shylock and Christie Beckham as Portia. Lawson is a sincere Bassanio from his charming suitor to his despairing friend to his hilarious cuckold. Ross portrays a layered Shylock who is both monstrous and pitiable. Beckham presents Portia as a strong female lead, sensible and intelligent. While Mark Stringham as Antonio and Allie Perez as Nerissa are consistent in character and entertainment, John Stillwaggon’s Gratiano brings new life to each scene. Dru Barcus is a riotous Launcelot who proves more than a jester when paired with Susi Lopez’s thoughtful Jessica. Torence Brandon White gave a commendable performance as Lorenzo and the Prince of Moroco. Each actor playing dual roles was able to keep them separate and distinct, preventing confusion so customary in Shakespeare’s comedies.

Often disregarded for its anti-Semitism, Merchant of Venice is possibly the most thought-provoking of Shakespeare’s comedies. Rather than employing dramatics to inform the comedy, it allows the comedy to be the means that achieve the drama. The defining dramatic speeches argue revenge and justice while each making the case for Shylock as a villain and not. In many of his scenes, Shylock is more desperate than villainous and more cautious than cruel as Shakepeare makes the case of his humanity over his religion. Another debate surrounding  Merchant of Venice is the sexual preference of the title character, Antonio. The Classic’s production seems to emphasize the description of Antonio’s love for Bassanio and then furthers this unrequited love as Antonio sings a melancholy ballad as Bassanio mulls over the choice of caskets that will win him Portia. The song is meant to be sung by Portia’s court to help Bassanio choose correctly, so this choice makes a bold statement. However, Bassanio’s confession of love for Antonio during his trial is met with a sarcastic remark by Portia, minimizing the previous implication, making it very unclear if the script implied it in the first place. It is these much-debated and somewhat sensitive topics that make this comedy so versatile, complex and compelling.

Director Matthew Byron Cassi stayed true to the text and was careful not to make assumptions of Shakespeare’s intentions, but rather let the audience infer for themselves. The staging bordered on choreography as the opening scene and transitions synchronized with Darrin Newhardt’s original composition. Diane Malone’s costumes were ornate and accurate all the way to Shylock’s red hat. The set by Allan S. Ross defined the play’s two locations simply and elegantly with understated nods to the characters. The marbling and tiles were beautifully executed by Scenic Artist Karen Arrendondo. The lighting design by Alfy Valdez was poignant and impactful as it established each scene in mood and setting.

While modern audiences may find the anti-Semitism in Merchant of Venice shocking, the homosexual tension may be inconsequential and completely opposite to the original audience's interpretation. To top it off, Shakespeare jabs at hypocrisy and makes a point of equality and humility by discussing mercy and justice. Merchant of Venice exemplifies William Shakespeare’s genius and The Classic’s production does great justice to the script, characters and intentions through purposeful staging and technical craft.


Merchant of Venice will run at the Classic Theatre through March 1, 2015 with performances at 8 p.m. on Friday and Saturday and 3 p.m. on Sunday. For more information and to purchase tickets, visit classictheatre.org.

Gypsy and her mother Rose

by Jenni Morin

From vaudeville to toddler pageants, Gypsy details the humor and horror of the queen of stage moms as she pushed her daughter to become a star. Gypsy, now playing at The Playhouse’s Russell Hill Rogers Theater through March 8, is considered the penultimate book musical, encapsulating the essence of the mid-century American stage.

Anna Gangai as Rose, Paige Berry as Louise
and David Blazer as Herbie in Gypsy at The
Playhouse. Photo by Siggi Ragnar.

Gypsy is inspired by the memoirs of Gypsy Rose Lee, a burlesque star who began headlining in the 1930s. With a book by Arthur Laurents, Music by Jule Styne and Lyrics by a young Stephen Sondheim, the musical offers a classic blend of story, song and a roller coaster of emotion. Rose pushes her young daughters, June and Louise, into show business, making Baby June the star and Baby Louise dress as a boy in the ensemble. Their vaudeville act gains mild success, but as the genre’s popularity begins to dwindle and Rose crushes June’s only chance at becoming an actress under her mother’s regime, June and the boys pack up and leave. Left with poor talentless Louise, Rose vows to now make her a star and tries desperately to shove her into June’s role. Louise is pushed into a burlesque act as Rose desperately clings to show business and this launches the illustrious career of Gypsy Rose Lee.

Gypsy is an early predecessor to today’s reality shows exploiting children for their parent’s gain, such as Dance Moms, Toddlers & Tiaras, Here Comes Honey Boo Boo and even Friday Night Tykes. Audiences are drawn to these parenting train wrecks because they feel at least someone is doing a worse job. From the raging internet comments of the mommy wars to the need to declare and defend a parenting style, society is left to wonder what end the means justify. Just as Rose is left at the end of the show to finally face the question of who it was all for, it’s obvious that any parent, despite their original intentions, can become obsessed with a goal or regimen and forget the child’s best interests. Despite her flaws, Rose was a career mother, making mothering into a career that is, but she was left with no retirement plan, a resume not her own and very resentful children. In a world of helicopter parents, tiger moms and overindulgence, it’s anyone’s guess if today’s children will grow up to be anywhere near as successful and independent as June and Louise and if the parents will finally empathize with Rose instead of judge her.

The show really is all about Rose — her tenacity, her drive, her vision, herself — and Anna Gangai as Rose embodies that force. David Blazer as Herbie manages to stand his ground and share the stage with her as an equal. Louise, played by Paige Berry, initially has a quiet presence about her, but eventually comes to command the stage, as expected, and tops her mother’s performance. As burlesque dancers, Nicole Erwin (Electra), Corina Zars (Mazeppa) and Sherry Gibbs Houston (Tessie Tura) missed the mark and were more bawdy parody than burlesque talents. The ensemble provided a great backdrop and Kyle Dvorak’s Tulsa was sweet and talented. Madison Calderon as Baby June really set the stage for Alison Hinojosa’s June, who, rightfully so, lacked the sparkle of her youthful counterpart.

The Playhouse’s production of Gypsy opens with a stunning drop featuring a marquee collage. As it rises, it reveals the flats and wheels of backstage, which felt like an odd choice of scenery, not quite complete or thoughtfully composed. The signs placed on easels on either side of the stage to mark the scene felt like an afterthought and did not match the grandiosity the show deserves. The set pieces, however, were detailed and complimentary, thanks to Scenic Designer Ryan DeRoos and Scenic Artist Stephen Montalvo. While the singers had trouble catching the rhythm at times, it was the musical direction of Jane Haas that kept the show moving. There also seemed to be some technical difficulties with the lights, including flickering spotlights, which bled onto the proscenium, and very noticeable dark spots where the actors were often in the shadows while saying their lines. Costumes (Laura Briseno and Rose Kennedy) and wigs (Fabian Diaz and Christina Casella) were suitable enhancements, but some not so flattering choices landed on the burlesque ensemble. All in all, Lizel Sandoval’s choreography was entertaining and Tim Hedgepeth directed an engrossing rendition of a theatre classic.

As is the case with most reality shows involving children, it’s the mothers who steal the show and Gypsy is no exception. Anna Gangai and Paige Berry as Rose and Gypsy are captivating in The Playhouse’s production of Gypsy. These two alone are worth the ticket, but it’s the story, so relatable, yet cautionary and inspiring, that has made this show a staple in musical theatre.


Gypsy runs at The Playhouse through March 8 with performances on Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m. and on Sundays at 3 p.m. For more information and to reserve tickets, visit theplayhousesa.org.

Talley's Folly: Steeped with subtext

by Jenni Morin

On the surface, Lanford Wilson's Talley's Folly, now showing at The Sheldon Vexler Theatre through March 1, is a romantic comedy of two unlikely lovers. However, digging deeper into the play's setting in 1944 nearly one month after D-Day and it being penned just four years following the Vietnam War, the weight of the characters' worries becomes much heavier. As the winner of the 1980 Pulitzer Prize for Drama, Talley's Folly is as much a glimpse into the personal lives of its characters as it is Wilson's life and post-war America.

Sally Talley and Matt Friedman met a year prior to the action of the play and spent a summer romance in a boathouse built by Sally's uncle. After a year's worth of letters, Matt decides to visit Sally, intending to propose. As they each attempt to chip away at the other's shell, their pasts resurface, which they desperately try to avoid, Matt by using humorous stories and Sally by bringing up finance and economics. Each of them have been scarred by war and misfortune, but ultimately find hope and love.

Talley's Folly is fraught with insight into American post-war culture of the 1940s, 1970s and even today. Wilson draws on his childhood in Missouri to develop the caricatures Matt portrays as he imitates Sally's relatives and he uses Sally's fear of a second Great Depression to comment on the residual American sentiments following the Vietnam War. Sally expects an economic collapse following the war, while Matt insists there is plenty of capital for the country to remain fiscally sound. Matt openly criticizes American democracy while Sally evidently wants nothing to do with the labor issues plaguing her family's business as she nurses soldiers back to health. They both echo the cries of post-Vietnam War views, asking what it was all for except for death and a repeat of the past. Not to leave audiences dismayed at such negativity, Wilson neatly wraps these concerns in romance and comedy and caps the story with hope, perseverance and a kiss.

As Matt Friedman, Scott Leibowitz does an amazing job switching from a meta-theatrical monologue to a master impersonator to a comedian to a romantic to a cynic and back again. He tackles his character with precision and creates a beautiful consistent arc for Matt. Leibowitz is funny, charming, well-rounded and a perfect sparring partner for Kathy Becker as Sally Talley. Becker stays steadfastly stubborn in her rejection of Matt, while giving slight smiles and glimpses of hope to the audience. She is a strong female character very well cast.

The Vex's production of Talley's Folly is detailed, entertaining and thought-provoking. Director Jim Mammarella infused plenty of movement and humor into the piece, allowing the actors meld with their surroundings. The boathouse set designed by Ken Frazier is a spectacular folly accented by his subtle lighting and brought to life with its many decorative elements and props. Chad A. Miller's sound design was rather minimalist and could have provided much more ambience as mentioned throughout the script and pointed out in Matt's opening monologue. Yvette Oakes-Crabtree's costume design was accurate from Sally's victory rolls to Matt's tie. Whether intentional or not, Sally's lack of pantyhose speaks volumes of the character and her situation.

Wilson uses a seemingly incidental tangent in Talley's Folly to discuss the fears and attitudes of post-war America while keeping it light with a cloaking blend of comedy and romance. Friedman and Becker are a perfect casting as they took to their roles and each other like kismet. The Vex's Talley's Folly is a treat fit for a Valentine's date and a reflective night of intelligent theatre beautifully staged.


Talley's Folly will run at The Sheldon Vexler Theatre through March 1, 2015 with performances at 7:30 p.m. on Thursdays, 8 p.m. on Saturdays and 2:30 p.m. on Sundays. For more information and to purchase tickets, visit www.vexler.org.