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.