The Elfin Metamorphosis

After nearly two decades, Crumpet the Elf has made his way into the holiday theatre repertoire. The Classic Theatre offers The Santaland Diaries as an “adult, ” and somewhat cynical, escape from the wintry sparkling wonderlands of holiday cheer.

David Sedaris takes audiences on a reflective, and simultaneously terrifying, journey through Macy’s SantaLand, where he once worked as an elf named Crumpet. Joe Mantello’s 55-minute adaptation hugs tightly to the twists and turns of the line to see Santa until arriving to find the jolly old elf, and perhaps the true meaning of Christmas.

For those who loathe Christmas tunes blaring in department stores before Thanksgiving, be prepared for the aural assault of the most annoying carols while waiting for the show to begin. Rick Malone masterfully sprinkles his sound design with the most fitting, eye-roll worthy sounds of the season. The lighting by Kaitlin Muse perfectly complimented Allan S. Ross’ set with twinkling lights for the trees and plenty of play space on a peppermint. Thanks to directors Kelly and Bart Roush, A special kudos to the crew for impeccable timing and allowing the technical aspects to be the supporting characters in a one-man show. Of course, it was Diane Malone’s spot-on costume design that really brought the elf home.

Deftly directed by Kelly and Bart Roush, John Stillwaggon braves the stage, in tights, for his one-man performance as Crumpet. While the opening tone at the thought of taking a job as an elf wasn’t as detestable as expected, his portrayal was much more realistic than previous, more affected, interpretations. The intimate space and thrust staging allowed for less dramatics and a more empathetic response from the audience as a whole. Despite a few awkward transitions, Stillwaggon gracefully ushered the script along a subtle arc. By the end, it feels as though he has shed his Grinch demeanor and undergone an elfin metamorphosis. As Crumpet the Elf, Stillwaggon restores the belief in Santa and the spirit of the season.

The Santaland Diaries is a welcome disenchanted wonderland, but, done right, can be just as heart-warming as Tiny Tim. The Classic Theatre and John Stillwaggon deceptively turn holiday snarls into smirks and reiterate why this production is a holiday tradition.


The Santaland Diaries will run at The Classic Theatre through December 20, 2015 with performances at 8 p.m. on Friday and Saturday and 3 p.m. and 7 p.m. on Sunday. For more information and to purchase tickets, visit classictheatre.org.

Medea may be you

by Jenni Morin

Medea often comes to mind as the quintessential Greek tragedy, but the genre is not always welcome or easy to digest. The Classic Theatre roaringly resurrects Euripides’ classic with an abridged version perfect for modern consumption.

Georgette Lockwood as Medea at The Classic
Theatre of San Antonio. Photo by Siggi Ragnar.

Mark Stringham’s original adaptation re-evaluates the notion that women are the weaker sex, giving new resilience, life and resolve to the ancient tale of a woman scorned. After carrying out the assassinations of both her brother and father king for the love of Jason, Medea and her husband flee. No sooner than she bears him children, he abandons them, only to return to take another bride. Wrought with grief and desperation, Medea resorts to homicide to protect her children and ruin her unfaithful husband. As director and writer Stringham points out, the end is always the same—however, it is the journey and twists that lead there open for interpretation.

In painstaking detail, the Classic’s production of Medea simultaneously transports audiences to ancient Greece while alluding to the present. Allan S. Ross’ thrust set is chock with symbolism as the crumbling columns give way to modern steel beams, plastic sheeting is used for curtains, and bolt heads on the angular steps provide industrial accents to the faux mosaic tile floor with Greek frets, compliments of Scenic Artist Kendall Davila. Composer & Musical Director John Coker immerses the audience in an undulating chorus of what sounds like rattlesnakes and katydids prior to curtain, then continues with ominous orchestrations providing a deep vibration of revenge, followed by an eerie electric organ. The period appropriate and detailed costumes by Vanessa J. Lopez move seamlessly with Susan Trevino’s beautifully stylised choreography. The undertone of the piece is furthered by Kaitlin Muse’s dramatic lighting, always featuring a tinge of blood.

Medea may be one of the more vile Greek tragedies as it is nearly impossible for audiences to conceive of a mother killing her children. However, given what the media has reported over recent years, it is perhaps more conceivable, but equally as horrifying, which Stringham is careful to include in his adaptation. His approachable adaptation condenses all the action into such an emotionally saturated hour, it doesn’t lack a drop of the original’s tragedy while it attempts to makeover Medea’s infamous image. Medea becomes a symbol of strength and resolve, confident in her power of destruction, rather than the popular and easier label of weak, scorned, and mentally unstable woman. While she may not be a role model in action, perhaps her legacy can evolve into that of a woman forced to carry out an unfathomably difficult decision for the ultimate well-being of her children. Because in today’s increasingly uncivilised world, having to make such decisions may just be a matter of time.

Georgette Lockwood’s Medea is unceasing and mesmerising, a most welcome talent to The Classic and San Antonio. Lockwood is complimented by her chorus—Sophia Bolles, Cristina Vasquez, Magda Porter, and Meredith Bell Alvarez—led by Mindy Fuller as Nurse, whose reverberating decries shook the audience to the core in true Greek fashion. Lockwood gloriously dominated her male counterparts in Michael Duggan as King Creon, Kerry Valderrama as Jason, and Guy Schaafs as Aegeus as each attempted to hold their own power over her, yet exited in grace and fear. Beck Broyles’ Attendant matched her meek king while Jack Dulling and Logan Trevino as Mermeros and Pheres offered tangible sacrifices.

The Classic’s production of Medea drips with intensity and echoes with contemporary nuance. Georgette Lockwood reinvents Medea in this pertinent, absorbing adaptation that redefines and reintroduces Greek tragedy.


Medea will run at The Classic Theatre through November 29, 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.

Diva worthy Master Class

True greatness, the uncontested and monumental kind, is hard to come by. The Classic Theatre takes on Terrence McNally’s Master Class, now playing through October 4, and the unparalleled life of opera diva Maria Callas.

Anna Gangai as Maria Callas in The Classic Theatre's Master Class.
Photo by Siggi Ragnar.

McNally’s Callas is not only a raw version of the woman, but also a vessel by which to remind audiences the depth of emotion and sacrifice that envelops such iconic artists. It is their dedication and courage making a lasting impression of their careers, not just the performances and accomplishments. As Callas repeats over and over throughout the script, they give everything — yet, especially in today’s over-saturated limelight, truly great performers are too often taken for granted and left to compete with flash rather than substance.

The Classic Theatre production of Master Class exhibits exceptional talent rarely seen on San Antonio stages. Anna Gangai, once again, proves her own diva stature in her portrayal of the incomparable Maria Callas. Opening with a softer demeanor than expected, Gangai manages to endear audiences to an otherwise polarizing and intimidating legend. Every one of the vocalists in the cast were phenomenal singers with soaring voices much larger than the Classic’s space. Of course, the nature of the script brings the acting ability of singers under scrutiny and audience members can judge for themselves if they felt the expectation Callas lays out in the play is met. Amanda Golden as Sophie DePalma took Callas’ direction to heart, giving a much improved performance to culminate her time on stage. Jerry Cordova’s Tony Candolino seemed ingenuine, but made up for it with his moving vocality. Jacquelyn Matava provided a powerhouse voice to Sharon Graham, yet did not seem to reap as noticeable benefits of Callas’ criticism as the others. Regardless of the characters’ individual arcs, the singers each have amazing vocal talent and range, only accentuated by Josh Pepper’s accompaniment musical direction. Not to be forgotten, Pam Slocum was an appropriately dry stagehand, giving a short glimpse into the stark difference between the diva and the crew.

Diane Malone directed an unrivaled production with Master Class. Tim Francis’ lighting and Rick Malone's video designs were simple yet poignant, matching the bare stage set and allowing the performers and the music to take center stage. Rick Malone’s sound design blended perfectly with the live music, giving Gangai the ability to transport herself across time and space seamlessly.

What Master Class accomplishes above all, even more than depicting the life of Maria Callas, is reiterating the standard that must be met in order to rise to the level of greatness. Being memorable is not the same as being revered and fame doesn’t equal legend. Perhaps McNally is asking actors and audiences alike to demand a higher level of artistry and not settle for a nice voice, but reserve ovations for the most deserving. Master Class resurrects the ghosts of talents lost too soon and begs for a rededication to experiencing the magnified truth in art instead of investing in manufactured reality. After all, in order to elevate art, it is  necessary to be uncompromising, strive for perfection and often succumb to the exhausting addiction it feeds, just as Callas did and taught.

The Classic Theatre’s Master Class delivers the same high caliber performances it commands with an obscene amount of local talent. Master Class should not only leave audiences with an appreciation for opera and the career of Callas, but also a desire to experience excellence in art, especially local theatre. Let this production set the tone for this theatre season.


Master Class will run at the Classic Theatre through October 4, 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.

The Rose wants to talk about RACE

by Jenni Morin

David Mamet’s RACE is more pertinent, and perhaps polarizing, today than when it premiered six year ago, before Trayvon Martin and Michael Brown. The Rose Theatre Company’s production, now running through August 29, dares to tackle this difficult topic plaguing the American media and public conscience.

The play opens with two lawyers, one black and one white, Henry Brown and Jack Lawson, cataloging the many trials that brought about conspiracy within the justice system, racial and otherwise, to convince their prospective client, Charles Strickland, that he cannot win his case. Accused of raping his young black mistress, Strickland, a wealthy and successful white man, insists it was consensual and they were in love. As the afternoon unfolds, further evidence comes to light debunking the laywers’ defense strategy as Strickland insists on going to the press to tell his side of the story. Brown, along with their assistant Susan Davis, a young black woman, believe Strickland to be guilty from the start as Lawson jumps at the challenge to make the case not about race, or even sex, but the alleged victim’s red sequin dress.

Mamet’s dialogue is meant to be spewed at such a pace that the arguments can only culminate in reflective and seething silence. The build up during these exchanges felt lacking with an unsteady pace in The Rose’s production. Providing the most developed performance, Joseph Urick as Jack Lawson led the cast with snarky and arrogant rhetorical comments laden with politically incorrect descriptions. The rest of the cast often felt flat in their deliveries and disconnected from the action of the play. It wasn’t until the end, after much exposition by Torence White as Henry Brown, that Megan Van Dyke’s Susan Davis felt three-dimensional. David Blazer lacked a certain privileged pomposity indicative of the stereotypical Charles Strickland. While Chris Manley’s lighting worked for the space, it didn’t quite illustrate the short passage of time between scenes, making hours seem more like days. The sound effects were often mistimed, providing awkward moments, especially noticeable in a Mamet script where timing is crucial. The set, although appropriately painted in contrasting black and white, was sloppily constructed with bunched tape at the seams of the back wall and extraneous paint on the window, no at all reminiscent of a high-priced lawyer’s office. Director Morgan Clyde found the key lines to punch, along with some comedic moments to highlight, but the blocking often felt cluttered and stagnant for the stage configuration. Some of the extraneous exchanges in Mamet’s script can be blamed for the mid-play tangential trudgery, however it is up to the production to find the motivation and pacing to support the dialogue so it can have the intended impact.

RACE is as much about the systematic proliferation of racial tensions and injustices of the justice system as it is about race relations and perceptions. Mamet unearths simple, yet often disregarded, certitudes about the impracticality of color-blindness: as long as any one person is afforded certain advantages or exceptions based on race, it will influence the way businesses and people must behave and therefore make it impossible to treat everyone the same regardless of skin color. Little undeniable truths are sprinkled throughout RACE, as Lawson explains there is nothing a white man can say about race to a black person. Brown also acknowledges those of his own race who exploit it to get ahead, while Davis does just that.

With prejudices and perceptions so ingrained, the contradictory nature of affirmative action, and the struggle to reject racial identity yet celebrate cultural roots weighing down the debate, Mamet almost seems to sum up the denial of racism as succinctly as he does his play: guilty.

Regardless of the production quality, RACE at The Rose is worth the ticket to challenge conventional stances on race. If The Rose production’s whole purpose is to spur, or even halt, the timeworn discussion with new insights on the race debate, it’s a success.


RACE runs at The Rose Theatre through August 29 with performances at 8 p.m. on Fridays and Saturdays. For more information and to reserve tickets, visit therosetheatreco.com.

Removing the muzzle: Q&A with Trigger Warning playwright David Legore

Jenni Morin talks with playwright David Legore about what prompted him to tackle academic freedom, campus carry and perceptions of PTSD in Trigger Warning.

For more information of the Theatre For Change production of Trigger Warning, visit theatreforchange.org/trigger-warning.

What first prompted you to write about trigger warnings?

To be honest, the origins of the play had nothing to do with trigger warnings, as I’ve come to understand them.  In fact, I had not even heard of the term or application until I had already begun writing.  My primary focus was on matters of free speech and academic freedom in higher education, and the various populations who are affected by and involved in these matters.  Early drafts of the play were entitled “Muzzle,” a title that I still find fitting for the piece.  In doing research, however, I happened upon cases involving trigger warnings, and the content seemed appropriate, timely, and relevant for integration in this play.  Ultimately, I’m interested in the dynamics of learning, and the exchange/dialogue between teachers and students as we seek enlightenment and truth.  Furthermore, I’m responding to trends and cases from across the country that demonstrate how complicated these matters have become in the modern corporate academy.  

With the origins of trigger warnings in feminist blogging and violence against women, what was your motivation to turn the attention to combat veterans and PTSD?

As I’ve mentioned, the story was not originally informed by an awareness of trigger warnings or their applications in policy.  There was a confluence of events and inspirations that ultimately led to the creation and integration of the characters, subjects, and themes of the play.  I didn’t sit down to write a play about trigger warnings, combat veterans, PTSD, or any of the other myriad elements that one might extrapolate from the piece.  I wrote about characters and situations within a given setting—a setting that I happen to care deeply about.  I think creativity is often less linear and planned than we would like to think.  When the muse is working, she hits the artist with a variety of seemingly unconnected inputs.  The output is hopefully greater than the sum of the parts.  That said, I do find myself drawn to stories that explore our deplorable human tendency to be brutal towards each other.  Certainly, those victims of some traumatic or violent event—whatever the cause—are susceptible to post-traumatic stress.  I am sympathetic to these victims and the repercussions of their trauma, but these layers in the play are a peripheral and organic result of the writing process—and not a central matter that fueled my motivation.  

In many ways, the modern world has led to a collective sharing of these stresses—and, necessarily, that has an impact on higher education.  The debate, of course, is how best to balance the care and concern for the individual with the need to challenge and prod the collective.  How can we best solve the world’s complex problems in a society that is so clearly polarized?  How can we cultivate meaningful dialogue and action among select citizens who demand insulating protection from anything that might offend their beliefs or sensibilities?  I think that storytelling is a tool that allows all of us to process these complexities in a communal way.

How long have you been working on the script and how many drafts have you written? Were the changes from each draft significant or minor?

I began writing in late May of 2014, and had a complete first draft in about three weeks.  Subsequent drafts have involved what I would call minor but meaningful changes—a gender change and the addition of a minor character, for example.  In a first draft, I’m quite deliberate before making a choice.  Thus, by the time I’ve completed that draft I’m pretty comfortable with the whole.  After allowing some time to pass, I find it helpful to return to the script on a regular basis with a fresh eye.   In all, I have written around ten drafts, with targeted goals for each revision.  For example, I might read and revise based strictly on the goal of “trimming the fat.”  Another read and revision might look for differentiation between character voices.  Ultimately, however, a writer can learn much from the early readings of the play.  Certainly, I will also learn a great deal from this premier production—which will undoubtedly lead to further revision.

The main character in the story has a huge change in his attitude toward the "triggered" student in the play. Does this in any way reflect your own views towards trigger warning policies?

Not necessarily.  I am certainly more aware of the history and intentions of trigger warning policy.  I would like to hope that I’m sensitive to the diverse and complex realities of the modern student population.  I would never attempt to intentionally and knowingly traumatize a student.  That said, as the character of Martinson asserts, I too am a flawed human being.  I have undoubtedly said or done things that were triggering to a student.  I am in a field that explores the “dramatic conflict” of the human condition—with stories that are often capable of triggering.  I also don’t claim to be an expert on these matters.  I’m a storyteller who is fascinated by them, and concerned about any trends or policies that would diminish or threaten our ability to explore truth (no matter the dangers), to dialogue with each other, and to take action for positive change.

What does it mean to you to have your play produced by your university, especially on such a touchy subject in academia? 

It’s humbling, and I’m grateful.  As an alumnus and professor of 17 years, TLU has played a central role in my development as a human being and artist.  It has helped form and “reform” my desire to seek reconciliation for our broken world.  I think that is reflected in the play.  I think the willingness to support the production at TLU is also consistent with the Lutheran tradition of higher education, a bold tradition that has historically sustained the quest for truth—even if the truth involves some pain and conflict.  I receive inspiration and take comfort knowing that Luther himself provided a model of reformation for us—grounded in the example of Christ.

What is your prediction about the widespread adoption of trigger warning polices?

I hesitate to guess, however I think the chances of any general implementation are slim, if recent cases and the resulting reactions are any indication.  There are a lot of complicated layers.  I think the movement to implement policy comes from a place of good intentions.  I support efforts to help students have a positive and supportive educational experience.  The devil is in the details, however.  There is significant resistance to anything that would muzzle free speech and academic freedom.  This resistance is grounded in long-standing ideals about the goals of a liberal (liberating) education.  As Plato wrote in “The Allegory of the Cave,” there is significant pain for the prisoner during their journey towards enlightenment.

There’s also no guarantee that a policy would actually prevent a student from triggering—given the multitude of sensory stimuli that can lead to an episode (words, smells, colors, the weather, etc.)  A professor can control the dynamics of a classroom experience to some extent, but some of the most transformational moments for learning take place in unpredictable and uncontrollable ways—during times when the professor themselves may not know the answers.  As the character of Dr. Martinson says, “Asking the question, "Why?" is one of the most dangerous things you can ever do.  Especially if people are threatened by the answer.”

Have you had any personal experiences with triggers and students in your time in teaching?

Not that I would have understood or labeled as such at the time.  However, it has probably happened in my classroom or within the performing contexts that I supervise—whether to a student I work with, or an audience member that has attended.  Through colleagues, I’m aware of incidents that have occurred in their classrooms.  I’ve been fortunate to work in an environment that allows me to develop meaningful relationships with many of the students I encounter.  This proves helpful in establishing trust during our mutual quest for understanding.

Talk about some of the inspiration behind the set and media design for the show.

The scenography of the show is intentionally simple but suggestive of that place where a learning exchange occurs.  For a college campus, that includes locations both within and beyond the classroom—but with the aesthetic and impact of the classroom looming everywhere.  For generations, that exchange has involved words, images, and concepts, shared through mediums like the blackboard.  Modern technology has complemented these traditional mediums.  However, much like the shadows on Plato’s cave wall, the imagery of the design is intended to suggest a limited representation of truth.  Ultimately, in order for enlightenment to occur, a dialogue must provide dimension, nuance, and color to the black and white imagery.  An enlightened view of reality will necessarily involve elements that can cause (and trigger) pain.  A reading of “The Allegory of the Cave” also reveals that the goal of education and enlightenment is not a selfish end that one hoards for themself, but rather one that must be shared with others—including those other prisoners left in the cave.  As Plato describes, our return to the cave will also be met with pain, as we encounter the doubting and scornful voices of the unenlightened.      

How do you think the medium of theatre can impact the dialogue about a subject? What do you hope audiences take away from this production?


As I’ve suggested elsewhere, I believe strongly that storytelling can provide a powerful forum for communion, reflection, dialogue, and action.  A story allows the audience to participate in a fabricated (but hopefully faithful) representation of truth that should ideally provoke them to think.  Thus, I hope the audience will engage with this play—much in the same way that I hope college students engage with their studies—in a willing spirit of openness.  I would also urge viewers to support the institutions and constituents of higher education as they grapple with the complex challenges of seeking truth in the modern world.

Dance, interpretation, mysticism and the Mahabharata

by Jenni Morin

When a new original work comes onto the scene, it is surrounded by curiosity, excitement and obvious creativity. From the Mahabharata: The Great Dance-Off, AtticRep’s latest production to grace the Carlos Alvarez Studio Theater stage at the Tobin Center, embodies all the anticipatory energy encompassing its premiere, along with a welcome mysticism.

AtticRep's From the Mahabharata: The Great Dance-Off.
Photo by Amitava Sarkar.

Billed as part of the San Antonio International Festival of Performance, the impetus behind From the Mahabharata hails back to last summer’s Forum Theatre Project, a collaboration of experimental theatre tackling the subject of skin tone between AtticRep and Chennai, India-based Crea-Shakthi Theatre. In an effort to continue infusing international views and aesthetics into the AtticRep season and bring cultural appreciation to local audiences, Producing Artistic Director Roberto Prestigiacomo created and directed From the Mahabharata with the help of choreographers Kausi Subramaniam and Seme Jatib, local dancers, and composer Reena Esmail who devised the original score recorded by San Antonio’s SOLI Chamber Ensemble. Carrying on the theme of Indian culture, the dance-theatre production is inspired by and mimics the story of the ancient epic poem, the Mahabharata. Presented as a dance company debating whether contemporary or traditional style of dance is the appropriate means for illustrating the great Indian saga, From the Mahabharata employs the theme of war, which predominates the Sanskrit text, to bring the action to the climax of the dance-off between the rivaling dance styles.

Since the premise of the production is that the dance company is in rehearsal, the dancers are not quite synchronized or as crisp as a polished recital. This rawness reiterates the experience of attending a premiere, especially as the audience is invited to feel as though they are part of the process in creating this work. While the acting leaves something to be desired, the few scenes of prose readings are both entertaining and insightful. One storyteller chronicles the confusing genealogy of princes as another exchanges offers insight into Dharma, karma, serenity and the path to enlightenment. These scenes speak to the complexity, tradition and constant need for self-evolution in not only Indian culture, but all of humanity.

A string box contains the dance floor as a balanced display of both Indian and contemporary styles set the scene and crescendo into the dance-off in perfect rhythm with Reena Esmail’s original score. Seme Jatib’s modern choreography seems ethereal as the long lines of the dancer’s bodies play against a somewhat smokey bare stage. Just as the staccato movements of Kausi Subramaniam’s traditional dances begin to feel repetitive, a change in tempo and mood revitalizes the action. Violinist Ananda Nadayogi enhances the experience with live accompaniament while Scenic Designer Jeremiah Teutsch brings puppets to life. Along with an evocative lighting design by Gaila Raymer, an undulating liquid seemed manipulated by the dancers as they moved in front of the projection, their shadows cast against the colored forms. The production design coupled with the choreography reflects the magic and mystery synonymous with Indian culture.

Not a traditional theatre production in the least, or an expected dance performance, From the Mahabharata is more of an experience, a behind-the-scenes look at the process of creating performance art. It offers an energetic and exciting escape into an unfamiliar culture with a different take on the battle waged between old and new, contemporary and traditional. AtticRep’s From the Mahabharata: The Great Dance-Off is at times exhilarating, inspiring and thought-provoking if approached with an open mind and willingness to embrace a new cultural experience.


From the Mahabharata: The Great Dance-Off runs at the Carlos Alvarez Studio Theater at the Tobin Center through June 14 with performances at 8 p.m. Thursday through Saturday and at 2:30 p.m.  Sunday. For more information and to reserve tickets, visit atticrep.org. 

4000 Miles goes the distance

by Jenni Morin

A road trip becomes an odyssey in Amy Herzog’s award-winning 4000 Miles as it tenderly examines the reality of dealing with loss. Now showing at the Cellar Theater through June 7, The Playhouse’s rendition of 4000 Miles raises the bar for local productions.

Cris Boneta and Sam Carter Gilliam as Leo and Vera in
4000 Miles at The Playhouse. Photo by Siggi Ragnar.

Leo arrives at his grandmother’s Manhattan apartment early in the morning after biking across the country. Having experienced a huge tragedy along the way, his family and friends are increasingly worried about his well-being. His inability to deal with what has happened strains his relationship with his girlfriend Bec. Vera, although initially surprised to have a houseguest, becomes accustomed to Leo’s presence, which allows her to release her irritating neighbor from having to check up on her. Leo spends his days rock climbing and avoiding his life, and when he attempts to have a one night stand with Amanda, it ends with him alone in the dark then finally detailing the whole bike trip incident for Vera. When Vera's neighbor passes, they share a poignant moment of mutual understanding and empathy.

As Vera and Leo slowly gain momentum, it becomes clear their paths have become intertwined for this brief moment in time. Journey and distance are constant themes, but rather than the cliched undertones of spirituality or personal awareness, Herzog allows the characters to be lost. The beauty of 4000 Miles is that it gives each character a level of respect to hold their most troubling and defining milestones close rather they splaying them out to be trampled on and judged.
This sweet and witty dramatic comedy is glimpse into the lives of a very odd couple, made up of a 21-year-old modern hippie and a 91-year-old Marxist grandmother, who find solace in silence. A delicate truthful interaction, 4000 Miles is a perfect therapy session with a spunky grandmother uncensored from imparting the wisdom of her years and experience. It’s as much about growth together as it is about personal growth and finding the strength to move past tragedy and accept life for what it’s become.

In an exceptionally impressive performance, Sam Carter Gilliam leads the cast as Vera. Without overwhelming the stage, she commands it with a quiet tenacity full of judgmental looks and a signature gait. Cris Boneta as Leo portrays the angsty grandson floundering in his loneliness. Together with Gilliam, Boneta creates touching moments and well-timed humor. Lilly Canaria’s Amanda character unfortunately gives her little to work with, coming off vapid and flighty, while Kristin Richards does a commendable job as Bec and shines in her awkward encounters with Vera.

Director Bill Gundry masters the silent moments, filling them with humor and affection. All of the technical aspects fell into place to create a very real escape into the lives of Leo and Vera. A magnificently decorated and detailed set by Ryan Deroos brought Vera’s apartment to life from the crocheted doilies to the rotary phone to the cups and saucers, along with other trifles from properties master Janis Kelly. Megan Reilly’s lighting transitioned well from night to day and defied shadows for the most part, giving each trinket and detail its own spotlight. Incidental sounds and transitional interludes tempered Pat Smith’s sound design, while Crystal Wilderson’s costumes were fitting for each character, even eccentric Amanda. Aside from tightening some transitions, the show was scrupulously well executed and engaging through to the last heartwarming moment.

The Playhouse’s 4000 Miles is a simple story made better by a talented team of technicians and actors who fill the silences with humor and compassion. The Cellar Theater provides the quintessential setting for this intimate glimpse into the converging paths of two generations with differing approaches for gaining perspective in the face of loss.


4000 Miles runs at The Playhouse Cellar Theater through June 7 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.

Rumors: You know what they say about assuming

by Jenni Morin

Neil Simon's popular farce Rumors, now playing at The Sheldon Vexler Theatre through May 31, is a staple in community theatre repertoires due to its snowballing chaos and rising tensions. While examining the effect gossip has on relationships and perceptions, Rumors also brings out the inherent humor in assumptions and inane cover stories.

The play opens on the panicked Chris and Ken Gorman who have just found their friend Charlie Brock unconscious and bleeding from a gunshot wound upon arriving for a party for his tenth anniversary with his wife Myra, who is nowhere to be found. After getting ahold of Dr. Dudley to help treat Charlie, Ken realizes it's a superficial wound on his earlobe and he's in a Valium-induced sleep. Friends of the Brocks, Lenny and Claire arrive after having been in a car accident and speculate the missing hosts have to do with rumors of an affair, then Ken lets them in on the situation. As the other guests arrive, they must keep inventing excuses for the missing party hosts and absent staff. They seemingly convince the other guests, Ernie and Cookie Cusack, that everything is fine and even to cook their own dinner, until a second gunshot, rendering Ken momentarily deaf, raises further questions. Genn and Cassie Cooper arrive bickering about another rumored affair and everyone seems to get injured in some way as the first act culminates in a screaming, aching, exasperated tableau of chaotic desperation. Everyone has been filled in after dinner when the second act opens and they all decide to blame Ken. A mysterious woman calls for Glenn, making them think it's Glenn who Myra is having the affair with, causing Cassie to go ballistic. The police show up to investigate Lenny's car accident and seem satisfied with their answers until Glenn accidentally mentions the gunshots. Lenny, pretending to be Charlie, tells an impromptu story explaining the entire evening, which seems to satisfy the officers. Once they leave, Charlie offers to tell the real story of what happened.

Simon weaves a warning against gossip and assumptions into the chaos of Rumors to add a message to the otherwise mass confusion. Each of the characters has their own rumor-worthy secrets, which are revealed as accusations in many cases. Amidst the confusion and lies, Simon manages to leave evidence of not only the nature of the characters in crisis, but also of their backstories. This gives the farce a little more substance than those that seem to leave the audience constantly discovering pieces to the plot puzzle until it finally makes sense. Despite the depth of this farce, Rumors still requires a fast-paced and precise execution in order to build and maintain momentum. Simultaneously, the characters must remain frazzled while still being able to repeat the evolving volley of lies meant to explain the current predicament. The believability of the entire production rests on the ability of the actors to personify every clue given about their characters, rather than the plausibility of the situation itself.

The Vex production of Rumors has plenty of comical moments guided by director Michael Burger. Chad A. Miller's sound pairs perfectly with Ken Frasier's lights and set. Dylan Brainard even introduced a new character in his props with an extra long phone cord responsible for several humorous binds, literally. While all of Sophia Bolles' evening attire is fitting for the status of the characters, the description of Cookie's dress is not representative of the only one described in the dialogue. While the production faces inconsistencies in pacing, it isn't without its shining moments and some stand out cast members.

Scott Leibowitz leads the show as Lenny Ganz, keeping the cast on tempo and commanding the stage for his explanatory monologue. Chelsea Ortuno as Cassie Cooper and Robert Gonzalez as Glenn Cooper have great stage chemistry with one of the most engaging scenes of the show. Ben Scharff presents a steady Ernie Cusack with well-timed outbursts. Theresa Bishop's Claire Ganz is both snarky and detached while Jared Stephens as Ken Gorman brings the opposite with high-energy hysteria. Carlos Alvarado as Officer Welch holds his own as his partner officer Pudney played by Erin Polewski holds her own as the strong silent type. Cookie Cusack, played by Lisa Fritschle, seems more odd than eccentric, while Megan Van Dyke's character Chris Gorman is always on the brink of hysteria and more in need of Valium than a cigarette.

Never a dull moment, Rumors keeps audiences guessing as the characters make assumptions, spy and gossip until relieved by an official explanation. The Vex production of Rumors is a fun romp and one of the few farce plot that can be followed thanks to a few talented actors worth the ticket.


Rumors will run at The Sheldon Vexler Theatre through May 31, 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.

Love to hate & hate to love Chekhov

by Jenni Morin

As the most produced play this season according to American Theatre magazine, Christopher Durang's 2013 Tony winner for best play, Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike, is a ridiculous mélange of Chekhov's characters and themes brilliantly mashed with his unique brand of culture criticism. The Classic Theatre production, now showing through May 17, pays homage to both Durang and Chekhov in a hilarious and perfectly cast tonic.

Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike is set at the estate of middle aged siblings, Vanya and Sonia, who have come to accept their pointless existence, not without complaining, after spending their youth caring for their ailing aging parents. Professors and community theatre enthusiasts, their parents named all their children after Chekhov characters. Masha, their sister, is an actress who pays for the estate and comes home to disrupt their depressingly mundane lives to attend a costume party. In an attempt to desperately cling to her fame, youth and beauty, she bullies everyone, including a neighbor girl Nina,  into being the supporting cast to her Snow White costume for the party. Sonia refuses to be one of Masha's dwarfs and insists on being Maggie Smith as the evil queen, upstaging Masha's costume and boosting her confidence in possibly meeting someone at the party. Meanwhile, Cassandra the housekeeper, who has premonitions just like her Greek namesake, warns against several threats, which everyone ignores until they come true. Masha's visit has brought out the charm of Sonia as she receives an invitation for a date and the confidence of Vanya who decides to share a reading of his play, inspired by Konstantin's symbolist play in The Seagull. Spike rudely answers a text during the reading, which sets off Vanya into a tirade about how things used to be in the 50s. Masha discovers Spike is involved with her assistant and send him packing. Employing a voodoo doll, Cassandra convinces Masha not to sell the house and the three siblings end with a tableau of contentment in their house by the cherry orchard.

Durang quickly explains most of the Chekhov references throughout the play as they come up, making it just as humorous for those unfamiliar with the Russian master. Beyond the obvious similarities in character names and preoccupations, themes of selling the family estate and Konstantin's play within a play, Durang, like Chekhov, introduces a wide range of well developed characters. This makes it easy to relate to the melodramatic tantrums and empathetically and emphatically experience the ups and downs of their tumultuous relationships. Durang may in fact be tapping into some of the humor Chekhov intended, which never seems to come across through the dark clouds hanging over his subtext-laden works. However, some of the deeper Chekhovian themes are embodied by Vanya then poured out in his monologue, which feels like a reflection of personal frustrations of the playwright. From lusting after an unattainable young mate to the younger generation's materialism to environmental sustainability, Durang offers a rich script that is as meta theatrical as it is entertaining, yet exceedingly difficult to execute well.

The Classic Theatre production of Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike is exceptionally well executed. Under the skillful direction of Diane Malone, each technical element highlighted, without overpowering, an incredibly talented ensemble. Both lighting by Steven Starr and sound by Rick Malone were respectfully well balanced, unobtrusive and restrained, pairing nicely with Karen Arredondo's functional set. While Kitty Williams' costumes, especially Sonia's party outfit, provided their own subtext, a special mention must go to Jan O'Neill for smashable mugs and the best teapot.

From Anna Gangai's (Sonia) impeccable comedic timing to Emily Spicer's (Masha) icy facial expressions, this cast flawlessly delivered every bipolar moment. Gangai's Sonia is undeniably endearing as the audience is on the edge of their seats during the entire one-sided phone conversation with a potential suitor. John O'Neill (Vanya) and Gangai are perfect compliments, marching to the sounds of their own piccolo, as he so gently steers his adopted sister back to a sunny disposition. O'Neill's lengthy monologue about the past is animated and charged with frustrations of society's audacious improvements that have left the simplicity and communal experience of the past behind. Danielle King as Cassandra energizes the Russian melancholy with a flourish of comedy uniquely her own. Spicer gives Masha an extra touch of humanity and hilarity in her uncomfortable interactions with Nina and suggestive moments with Spike. John Stillwaggon performs an entertaining audition scene, but like McKenna Liesman (Nina) has been given little to work with from Durang.

Durang's Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike is the answer to updating Chekhov and bringing his works to a new audience, while simultaneously allowing Chekhov fans to laugh at the undeniably depressing works. The production of Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike at The Classic Theatre is rousing and entertaining, offering an accessible and approachable script for all.



Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike will run at the Classic Theatre through May 17, 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.

The Shamed Schlongless

by Jenni Morin

It's not every day to be privy to the inner-workings of the male psyche, especially when discussing the particularly sensitive topic of penile measurements. This is the centerpiece of The Irish Curse, the 2005 New York International Fringe Festival hit by Martin Casella. AtticRep's production of The Irish Curse, now playing at The Tobin Center for the Performing Arts Carlos Alvarez Studio Theater through April 5, is a humorous yet poignant search for male identity beyond the cock.

The Irish Curse refers to the notion that Irish males have small penises and so the play centers around a support group of men dealing with their cursed fate. While Rick, Joseph and Stephen have been meeting with Father Kevin Shaunessy in the church basement every Wednesday for months, Keiran, the newcomer for the evening, shifts the group's complaining session to one of real therapy and discussion. As each man details his life experience centered on the size of his member, Keiran pushes each to divulge a little more. Father Kevin finally reveals his story and then it is up to Keiran to finish the meeting with his.

The play is exactly what is expected and at the same time is suspenseful and surprising. It is as raw as it is cliche as the characters rattle off every cultural and ethnic stereotype about penis size, then reveal how this one small member has profoundly shaped their lives. Casella's script is so well crafted that it gently pushes ruckus humor to earnest confessions nearly imperceptibly. The discussion is uncomfortable in nature, but the constant barrage of cursing and derogatory name-calling makes it even more ridiculous that the men can't move past a popular belief and be comfortable with all the other features that define them. The men find freedom, reprieve and solace in camaraderie as they try to explain the reasoning and truth behind their actions, but they still must carry this new self awareness beyond the group and into their everyday lives. In their defense, the matter of size is at the root of everything from vehicle selection to war to racial tensions and politics. It is their self-esteem that takes a beating as they make comparisons in the locker room and the increasingly sexualized media defines their worth and the expectations of romantic partners. At its core, The Irish Curse is about discovering what it means to be a man, defining masculinity and acknowledging the true curse of the perceived inadequacies inflicted on them by society.

Before the production even begins, a soundtrack of humorous small penis tunes gets the audience chuckling during pre-show. Directors Seth Larson and Roberto Prestigiacomo start the show lighthearted and usher the audience through waves of emotions ranging from laugh-crying to heart-wringing empathy. Purely in blocking, the seeming game of musical chairs the characters play to make sure each one is seen by every side of the audience is masterfully choreographed. Scenic designer Rick Frederick and lighting designer Gaila Raymer display their talent through realism and detailing. While the lighting is mostly stagnant, save for rain pounding on the small windows, it nicely compliments the stale basement set dressed to the nines with an angelic birdbath statue, light fixtures and dusty crucifixes.

From the awkwardness to the sock-stuffing to the soul-bearing, each and every actor in the cast makes a lasting impression. Alejandro Cardona as Rick Baldwin kicks off the show with cheerful bravado and a false sense of security. His youth, hopefulness and willingness to keep fighting the urge to let the curse win gives each one a little faith. Tyler Keyes plays Stephen Fitzgerald, the tall handsome tough gay cop, with a gruff exterior and empathetic heart. Keyes' booming voice reminds the men to butch up and play the offensive to avoid rejection and pain. As Joseph Flaherty, Lawrence Coop embodies the most devastating backstory of a shy man foolish enough to believe love triumphs all. It is his cautionary tale that inspired the formation of the group and what keeps them coming back. Rick Frederick takes on the internally conflicted Father Kevin Shaunessy with poise and virtue. His confession compels each of the men to dissect how they have faced the curse. Finally, Sam Mandelbaum as the sweet lost soul Keiran Riley is endearing from soaking wet entrance to confident exit. By his prompting, every man shares, feels and thinks more about the power the curse really has.

This incredibly talented cast is expertly directed and manages to entertain, possibly offend, all while exploring a clandestine topic that rocks the very core of gender identity. AtticRep's The Irish Curse is the mirror theatre holds up to the world with a spotlight on humor and a new perspective as the takeaway. It is a roller coaster of emotions as it uncovers fresh perspectives to get the real answer to what truly is the Irish curse.


The Irish Curse runs at the Carlos Alvarez Studio Theater at the Tobin Center through April 5 with performances at 8 p.m. Wednesday through Saturday and at 2:30 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. For more information and to reserve tickets, visit atticrep.org.

El Corazón del Bolero

by Jenni Morin

José Rubén De León, musician, performer and founder of Teatro Farolito, breaths new life into bolero music with El Corazón del Bolero performed at The Classic Theatre one weekend only beginning March 20 with limited tickets remaining.

José Rubén De León, Aaron Ellington Prado and George Prado
 in concert at The Classic performing bolero music.

Billed as a tribute to male and female bolero composers from Cuba, Puerto Rico and Mexico which offers solace, company and warmth to the heart, El Corazón del Bolero promises to touch on all aspects of amore. As Columbian writer Gabriel García Marquez has remarked, it is difficult to put all that bolero expresses into words. De León says this particular collection of romantic songs touches on pledges of eternal love, bitter disappointment and unrequited love through alluring melodies, intoxicating lyrics and soulful laments.

The program, written and performed by De León, accompanied by Aaron Ellington Prado on piano and George Prado on bass, pays homage to José Pepe Sánchez, the first Cuban bolero musician who drew from Italian opera and French-Haitian music. He is regarded as the Father of the Cuban bolero, originating the genre in Santiago do Cuba with “Tristezas” in the late 19th century. Next, bolero travels through the Caribbean and Latin America. In the late 1920s, Nilo Menéndez and Adolofo Utrera compose “Aquellos ojos verdes” and bring bolero to an international audience with Spanish and English versions hitting the charts. As North American jazz and musicians such as Ella Fitzgerald, Frank Sinatra and Louis Armstrong became popular, arrangers and guitar accompanists were instrumental in the Cuban movement to focus bolero on feeling the music. Bolero today still remains a true expression of love and passion with lulling ballads infused with energetic rhythms.

This journey through the origins and evolution of bolero features an incredibly talented musician and composer in his own right. José Rubén De León will transport audiences to Cuba and back again through beautiful melodies and amorous lyrics.


El Corazón del Bolero plays at The Classic Theatre Friday, March 20 and Saturday, March 21 at 8 p.m. and Sunday, March 22 at 3 p.m. For more information and to purchase tickets, visit classictheatre.org.

A Numbers Game: Four humorous debates

by Jenni Morin

The Overtime Theater and The Southwest Association of Literary and Dramatic Artists take a popular idiom to the stage with A Numbers Game, now showing through April 11. The title phrase insists there's a manipulation by the characters and they certainly do make a point of choosing what to believe and what not to believe in various situations. At it's core, there is a willingness to accept or deny the truth, reality and even reason, all with a good dose of humor.

Written and directed by Emily Fitzgerald, co-founder of SWALDA, A Numbers Game presents four separate scenarios of relationships. First, a group of friends plays a game of "I Never" until it is broken up by the father of the hostess who stopped by to say goodbye before a rather unusual trip. As the couple disagrees about the validity of the father's story, the hostess becomes defensive. Both relationship and friendship seem to be at an impass as the three are left to decide for themselves which reality to accept. The second short titled "Immortality" discusses a new couple making a very unconventional agreement to have a child together. Both feel this will complete their lives in different ways, while their friends are skeptical it will be as fulfilling and simple as they intend. "Love is Madness," the third story, features a bold and imaginative way for a guy to meet a girl so he can ask her out on a date. As they try to figure one another out, testing the waters, it's clear expectations have been set for their relationship going forward. Finally, "The Journey" ends the quartet of scenes with a couple attempting to use therapy as a means of reconciliation. After discovering the interesting side business of the receptionist, the couple finds a way to talk about subjects and situations they swore never to broach again, bringing them closer and eliminating their need for intensive therapy.

All four actors skillfully portrayed very discernibly different characters throughout each scene. Miguel DiCostanzo's best performance of the night comes in the third short as he plays Julian, an awkward yet intelligent and surprisingly romantic German lit student. Jay Overton does well to play two very different characters in the first scene's hippie ambassador Ed and George, the more reasonable, yet supportive, counterpart to DiCostanzo's Marc. Sarah Nixon as Morgan and Rosie pairs especially well with DiCostanzo in the scenes where they couple up. She also offers two very independent women in the wry Maggie and eccentric DeeDee. Finally, there is Christine Quattro who goes from laid-back butch to timid country girl to uptight control freak. While there were moments actors broke character, they were steadfast in their representations.

Each scene is somewhat color-coded with the costumes matching one of the flats at the back of the set. It was a clever device for further distinguishing the scenes, but slightly disappointing the colors went in order from left to right. The set beyond the panels is very basic, which is fitting for the various settings needed. Costuming is modern and appropriate to each character and not too obviously color-coded for every scene. The use of the TV monitor as an additional piece of scenery felt unnecessary and mostly distracting. It's graphics rather than photographic images took much of the seriousness out of the scenes, perhaps on purpose. Despite some possibly faulty lighting equipment, the minimalist execution in lighting was very well done. The sound was slightly off in the volume department, but offered some humorous relief, especially in the last scene. Perhaps the most notable technical elements of the production were the props, which added much-needed grounding.

Fitzgerald starts a few interesting debates between her characters, which become less serious as the scenes progress. Perhaps a change in the order of the shorts would allow for a more thought-provoking ending, but it seems that may result in an unintended connection between plots. The first scene poses the most interesting question by far as it analyzes the need for truth and the difference between a believed reality and what's real. This theme could have carried more heavily throughout the following scenes, but instead more questions are brought to the table along the general theme of belief versus reality. Each scene delves just far enough into the questions to create a debate, but also offers a succinct conclusion so there's little desire left for further discussion. The scenes are great for a short trip into deep thought, but the humor and some of the ridiculous situations bring a lightness to the whole exercise.

A Numbers Game is a light-hearted, humorous and, at times, ridiculous exploration of some deep philosophical and ethical debates. The Overtime Theater and SWALDA offer an opportunity to laugh and think, be entertained and challenged, without too much commitment.


A Numbers Game plays at The Overtime Theater through April 11 with performances at 8 p.m. on Fridays and Saturdays and Thursdays in April, at 2:30 p.m. on Sunday, March 22 and 7 p.m. on Sunday, March 29. For more information and to purchase tickets, visit www.theovertimetheater.org.

Dasvidanya novel, Pryvet adaptation

by Jenni Morin

Russian literature is often viewed as tedious and depressing as it launches readers into a diatribe of psycho and social analysis. While Fyodor Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment does not escape this perceived reputation, the 2007 adaptation by Marilyn Campbell and Curt Columbus of the novel, now showing at The Playhouse Cellar Theater through April 5, boasts a digestible revamp of the Russian classic.

Tony Ciaravino and John Minton in Crime & Punishment
at The Playhouse. Photo by Siggi Ragnar.

Somewhat of an epilogue, Campbell and Columbus' adaptation is every bit as full of grief, intellect, guile and rapturous moral quandaries as the 1866 original. Raskolnikov, a now destitute ex-student in St. Petersburg, reasons murdering an old pawnbroker woman to rob her is worth all the lives who will benefit from her wealth. After several tricky interviews with Detective Porfiry, increasingly intimate discussions with his neighbor prostitute Sonia, remembering dreams, damning monologues and flashbacks to the murder, conversation with Sonia's father and the pawnbroker's sister Lizaveta, and letters to his mother, Raskolnikov unravels, breaking down in confession. This compressed version of Dostoyevsky's famous novel hits all the high points as Raskolnikov explains his idea of the extraordinary man capable of murder with a right to do it, how he fancies himself like Napoleon Bonaparte and murder for a higher purpose cancels out the sin of the crime. Resurrection, confession and the ever popular debate between good and evil, God and Satan, predominates the undulating theme of the play.

As Raskolnikov, Tony Ciaravino physically enacts the downward spiral of the protagonist as his self-righteous deed gnaws at his conscience. Kacey Roye (Sonia) exquisitely plays multiple distinctive well-rounded women each with an emotional timbre all their own. John Minton embodies the deceptively congenial inestigator, Porfiry, along with other characters. This relatable trio of actors propel this fast-paced adaptation into a flurry of psychological conundrums, seductive with evil brilliance.

David Rinear directs a sharp, evocative exploitation of the perilous nature of evil in a compact 75 minutes. Rinear delivers a gripping journey using the stark darkness expected of a Russian novel to illustrate the deep trenches of Raskolnikov's psyche. Megan Reilly's lighting design is incredibly focused, with spotlights, dim shadows and a bare yellowed glow representative of Raskolnikov's sickly mind. The set by Ryan DeRoos imaginatively reflects the play through a backdrop of worn doors, empty door frames and jagged platforms awash in dark hues. Both elements blend to define the small blackbox theatre into even smaller scenes, aiding in the actors' transitions from character to character, distinguishing each scene from the last and highlighting introspective moments.

The Crime and Punishment script uses several techniques to trap the audience in the vortex of Raskolnikov's criminal mind. There is repetition of key phrases, such as "God grants peace to the dead," and the nagging question if he believes in God, resurrection and the story of Lazarus, which force him to relive his crime over and over again. Raskolnikov starts out as morally justified, but by having to admit to committing a crime he did not intend--killing Lizabeta who witnessed him murdering her sister--he comes to believe he is just as morally repugnant as Sonia the prostitute, or her drunken deadbeat father, and finds camaraderie with her. Porfiry's interrogation approach is calculated as he patiently manipulates Raskolnikov to see himself as a criminal rather than an intellect above the law. Ultimately, the harshest punishment for Raskolnikov's crime is the loss of his sanity and ability to reason away his actions. Just as Dostoyevsky's contemporaries saw the work as a commentary on the younger generation, the play can serve as a warning for the detached, unsympathetic nature of today's social media consumed adolescents.

Crime and Punishment will always have relevance as it pits humanity against the nature of evil and the vast possibilities in the absence of compassion and conscience. The Playhouse's production of Crime and Punishment wraps up Dostoyevsky's novel in a succinct brooding bow. From the cast to the direction to the design, it prompts an examination of the psychology of human nature.


Crime and Punishment runs at The Playhouse Cellar Theater through April 5 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.

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.

True West: A true theatre experience

by Jenni Morin

Sam Shepard's Pulitzer Prize-winning True West, now playing at the Tobin Center, is a testament to the power of of an honest and simple story. AtticRep's production highlights the script with incredible talent and attention to detail in its technical execution. True West allows audiences to reflect on their capabilities and tolerance for life-altering change.

Andrew Thornton and Rick Frederick in True West
at the Tobin Center. Photo by Siggi Ragnar.

A successful Hollywood screenwriter, Austin attempts to pitch his latest script to a producer amidst the distractions of his estranged uninvited brother. When Lee convinces the producer to run with his simple western instead, Austin becomes unhinged, catapulting the brothers into opposite roles. The action unfolds as each tries to cope with their newly dealt hands and reveals chaos, sibling rivalry and violence.

Andrew Thornton as Lee is an invading force of unkempt burping, fully committed to the disgusting vegabond brother. Rick Frederick as Austin may flop and flail in his exasperation, but he is consistently the tightly wound brother who has lost his pedestal. As the producer, Guy Schaafs is appropriately fake and nearly emotionally leveled. While Rita Crosby as Mom doesn't quite match the volume or boisterousness of her sons, she brings a welcome dose of humor to a tense scene.

Director David Connelly kept the reality of the script while adding humor, movement and plenty of telling looks executed perfectly by his cast. Production Designer Martha Penaranda brought the show together with great technical details. Robin Crews' lighting at times felt haphazard, but colored the mood well throughout. Costumes were on point and well aged, especially the stains on Lee's shirt and trench coat thanks to Angelina Mata. Even the pre-show music was chosen with purpose by Jeremiah Tuetsch while the sound design brought the show to life. Ed Diaz created an immaculately detailed set, although the entire layout of the house seemed somewhat of a mystery based on the staged section. Set dressings were important characters, especially the house plants, as with Rex Harder's props.

True West examines the human need for identity. Without it, Shepard asks if we become someone else or if we are just lost. Shepard also pokes fun at the frills and assumptions of Hollywood and blockbuster movies, making it even more obvious that this well written script is a masterpiece in its simplicity. Marked as a tragicomedy, this gradual descent into desperation begs audiences to examine the characteristics which define identity and if those are purely oppositions to those well-defined, self-confident individuals or counterparts.

The AtticRep production of True West exemplifies theatre as a craft without the unnecessary bells, whistles and gimmicks. True West is a quality theatrical experience boasting unparalleled talents and production value.


True West runs at the Carlos Alvarez Studio Theatre at the Tobin Center through February 8 with performances at 8 p.m. Wednesday through Saturday and at 2:30 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. For more information and to reserve tickets, visit atticrep.org.

Experience The Last Five Years

by Jenni Morin

Divorce can be devastating or a relief, just as the commitment of marriage can be binding or dismissible. In Jason Robert Brown’s The Last Five Years, now running at The Playhouse’s Cellar Theater through February 15, a relationship is on display to experience the rise and seemingly inevitable fall of one couple.

Reagan Wilson (Cathy) and Grant Bryan (Jamie) in
The Last Five Years at The Playhouse. Photo by Siggi Ragnar.

Jamie and Cathy tell the story of their relationship, the courtship, marriage and divorce, through inverse timelines and song. While Cathy begins the show at the end of the marriage, Jamie begins at their meeting. The two characters rarely interact on stage, except when the timelines intersect in the middle of the show for the wedding ceremony. As Jamie finds himself, Cathy loses herself and the telltale signs of trouble are revealed mostly by Cathy’s laments and resolutions and Jamie’s actions.

Director Chris Berry makes an impressive debut at The Playhouse with two powerhouse voices and a challenging piece. Their relationship feels like an everyday romance rather than an all-consuming love, which speaks to the essence of the script: this can happen to anyone. The actors, however, seemed hindered and their voices stifled, perhaps by their unnecessary microphones or the infamous fourth wall, lacking the jolt needed to truly penetrate the intimate space of the Cellar and deeply connect with the audience.
Grant Bryan, making his debut on the San Antonio theatre scene as Jamie, has an incredible voice, as does his counterpart, Reagan Wilson as Cathy. Together, the two bring the script and lyrics roaring to life with soaring ballads and catchy melodies. Although a little stiff at first, once settled into their roles, they become increasingly engaging. Musical Director Darrin Newhardt and his band meld nicely into the scenary and compliment Bryan and Wilson well.
The set by Ryan DeRoos initially seems utilitarian and cluttered, but actually makes a lovely commentary as the actors are surrounded by all the stuff, moments and memories that make up their lives and their relationship. The “cracked foundation” is literal and symbolic, nearly serving as a third character on stage. The set is subtly highlighted by Denisse Chavez’s lighting design while Paige Berry’s costuming aptly reflects the characters’ personalities.

Contrary to popular belief, the divorce rate is not increasing and if trends continue, only one-third of marriages will end in divorce rather than 50 percent, according to data reported by The New York Times this past December. While Jamie and Cathy only exhibit a few of the factors contributing to divorce, there are still several issues plaguing their relationship, such as Cathy’s personal insecurity and Jamie’s infidelity. Regardless, even after 14 years, The Last Five Years accurately represents what some might call an epidemic in modern culture. It’s certainly relatable, even without the divorce factor, as the experience of a relationship’s ebb and flow, arc of passion and ending is universal.

The Last Five Years may not be a hard-hitting social commentary, but it illuminates an often stigmatized subject as a fact of life, not an embarrassment or failure. The Playhouse’s production offers a healthy dose of cynicism, or thankfulness, just in time for Valentine’s Day and the release of the film starring Anna Kendrick and Jeremy Jordan.
Anyone can relate to this musical, a truthful empathetic story with characters fascinating in their simplicity. Bryan and Wilson’s exquisite vocals make The Last Five Years a must see production guaranteed to captivate.


The Last Five Years runs at The Playhouse’s Cellar Theater through February 15 with performances on Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m. and on Sundays at 3 p.m. and 8 p.m. For more information and to reserve tickets, visit theplayhousesa.org.