Friday, November 21, 2008

Huntington rocks Tom Stoppard's "Rock and Roll"

Tom Stoppard is that rare playwright who can appeal to the mind as much as the emotion. His latest play, Rock and Roll, which has been extended at the Huntington Theatre through December 13th, is the perfect example of the playwright's mastery of catharsis, intellect, and politics. Take Czechoslovakian, communist politics told through the perspective of a collegiate family in Cambridge, England, spanning three decades and underscored by a rock and roll score of pre-punk dissidents, and you have the basic premise for Stoppard's Rock and Roll. Of course, to assume that anything is basic to Stoppard is like assuming Shakespeare's brevity. Although this milieu could easily be tainted, I believe this production has scored solid gold number 1!



The production of Rock and Roll is a "co-production" with American Conservatory Theatre (ACT) in San Francisco, as the marketing ploy goes. But the fact is that the production is directed by their artistic director, Carey Perloff, designed and built by their technical team, and cast out of their auditions. Therefore, the Huntington merely gave money to produce the show rather than had any artistic in-put, which is why this production far outshines any other work produced by the Huntington in the last few seasons. As the jury is still out on Peter DuBois' contribution to the Huntington, I think the last two shows have been a poor defense, but the partnership with ACT seems to be a winner. This show is quite simply the best production I have seen in Boston in recent memory.


The plot of the show is complicated and defies cursory synopsis. However, I will attempt a bare-bones summary with preemptive apologies to Czech historians, music aficionados, communists, and Mr. Stoppard for my inaccuracies. The play opens in Cambridge, 1969 in the home of Eleanor and Max, two college professors the latter of which is a self-described communist despite the political ramifications of the word. Their daughter Esme has developed a crush on Czech student, Jan, while Eleanor battles cancer and Max battles the astigmatism of his political belief. Jan returns to Czechoslovakia and we learn that he was collecting information, though negligently, for the Czech government. Suddenly, we are placed in his flat which is filled with LPs of rock and roll, the perfect expression of political dissent, in his view. Enter a parade of characters and scenes that provide either further exposition into the characters' lives or their political leanings. Act II jumps into the 1990s with the idealistic Max holding onto his communist beliefs; the political martyr, Jan, adapting to life after jail; the now-grown Esme trying to make peace within her family; and her daughter, Alice, entering Cambridge and surpassing her mother's intellect.

Taking the helm of this challenging work are two actresses whose work equals the technical bravado and composition of the piece. Rene Augesen as the matriarchal and Sappho scholar Eleanor in Act I absolutely grabs one's heartstrings through her emotional and physical struggle with cancer. In Act II she plays a grown Esme delivering a convincing turn as the daughter of Eleanor as a grown woman who never achieved scholastic merit and merely (or is it) desires more than anything to be loved. Playing the younger Esme in Act I, Summer Serafin portrays the perfect blend of youthful sensuality and 60s' revolutionary. While in Act II she delivers as equally a stunning representation of Alice, Esme's daughter who balances her superior intelligence with a teenager's angst and familial struggle. Both of these actresses deliver such superb performances, it is hard to give equal credit to anyone else.


One reason for this may be Stoppard's own misogyny which gives the women more emotionally available roles while the male characters are stereotyped into debating politics and rock and roll. However, this stereotypic gender-divide can also be viewed as a feminist statement in that their emotional reactions to personal and political issues challenge the dominant white, male intellectual model of political activism. As much as I commend Stoppard for his intellect, I question whether or not he intended this interpretation. I believe he wrote the female characters arch's' with the intention of keeping audience interest and in portraying the personal within the political message. The result, however, is male characters too involved in their politics to be emotionally available to either their loved ones or the audience.

Speakeasy Stage Company presents "Seafarer"


Conor McPherson is a playwright whose work I describe as exploring the Irish storytelling aesthetic. His Broadway break-through, The Weir, was merely five Irishmen (one woman, for the record) sitting in a pub telling ghost stories which they believed to be true. Shining City (which had an impressive production at the Huntington Theatre last season) also delves into the realm of phantasmagoria, but with a psychological spin. His latest work, The Seafarer, presented now through December 13 by Speakeasy Stage Company, turns the theme from life after death to exchanging life for death. In other words, McPherson takes on Faust.

Having seen The Weir on Broadway and Huntington's Shining City, I understand that what McPherson's work needs more than anything else is virtuosic acting. Typically, his plays only work because of those great performances that take innumerable resources to locate and attain. That said, I wonder if this work is suitable to the resources and availability of Speakeasy Stage, which has "fared" better in the last few seasons.
The plot of The Seafarer is much like McPherson's other work in that it revolves around a bunch of Irish men (no women, for the record) in a unit set talking. The Irish men, in this instance, are a rehabilitated alcoholic, Sharky, and his blind brother Richard; their enabling and victimized friend Ivan; and two late-arriving guests, the self-righteous Nicky and mysterious Mr. Lockhart. Most of Act I is spent on exposition that explains that Sharky used to be an alcoholic and that Richard and Ivan still are. Act II takes place on Christmas Day and follows a poker game including Nicky and Mr. Lockhart. Insert scrupulous detail and background information on each of the characters' lives with a love triangle somehow thrown in for dramatic effect, and you get the basic premise.
Since, as I said, McPherson's work relies on virtuosic acting, I think the best merit of the show is not plot synopsis, but the delivery. Unfortunately, there were few deliveries from this Christmas show. Bob Colonna as the blind brother Richard was most dissappointing after his marvelous turn in last season's The History Boys. His affected dialect, apparent struggling for lines, and poor physicality in stage combat and business distracted from the pathos of the character. Billy Meleady as the "lead" brother, Sharky, lacked any panache whatsoever and one wonders why he was cast at all except for his authentic accent. Derry Woodhouse as Mr. Lockhart delivers a performance I can only describe as antithetical to what I imagine McPherson intended in the production: subtlety and control. Instead, Mr. Woodhouse's performance ranged from the melodramatic to the soap operatic, which is really the same as saying it was over-the-top. Only Larry Coen as the humorous Ivan and Ciaran Crawford as the sexually-charged Nicky deliverd performances that both served the text and brought their characters to life. Whether this opinion is a critique of the acting or the writing, it is hard to say as the roles of Ivan and Nicky carry much less weight that the others. However, when your attention and empathy are diverted to the supporting characters, something is certainly amiss.
I do believe that this was a most valiant effort by director Carmel O'Reilly and her team. Ms. O'Reilly, artistic director of Sugan Theatre, has impressed Boston critics and audiences with her own productions of contemporary Irish plays. However, McPherson's work seems to be in a genre by itself; one that eschews theatricality for storytelling. Therefore, the Hollywood lighting techniques and dramatic delivery of this work runs contrary to subtle storytelling and complex relationship intended. I commend Speakeasy Stage Company for attempting such a difficult work, but I imagine the rest of their season will "fare" better.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Jose Rivera's "Boleros for the Disenchanted"

Boleros for the Disenchanted is the much-anticipated new work by playwright Jose Rivera, author of the lauded Marisol, Cloud Tectonics, and the Academy-Award winning film The Motorcycle Diaries. Rivera is credited with popularizing magical realism on the stage much as his Sundance Institute mentor, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, popularized the genre through the medium of the novel. Rivera's most recent opus, however, eschews the form that brought him to fame in favor of a sentimental love story firmly grounded in realism. Granted, the play includes his signature poetic language, complex themes, and exploration of the theatre convention; however, those expecting pregnant men or postmodern angels will meet a new phase of the playwright's work and maybe disappointed.


The plot of Boleros follows the romantic follies of Flora, a young Puerto Rican, from her early encounters with philandering men through the discovery of her life partner, Eusebio. I must commend Rivera for the fact that his work often adopts a female protagonist. Typically, this assumption leads to a feminist critique of Western society; however, in this play, the female protagonist falls prey to stereotypical paternal situation that is neither cathartic nor political. Instead, Rivera portrays a relationship based in status quo politics as opposed to questioning the status quo that creates such paradigms. One theatre practitioner commented that Rivera had sold out to Hollywood with this play. And the general amusement of the audience surrounding me confirms this estimation. Good for him for delivering a play that speaks to Latino/a audiences in a strictly capitalistic level.


On the other hand, I was made aware of Latino audiences who found the representations of Latino/a's reprehensible. The father as drunk, mother as devout Catholic, young girl as chaste, and young man as philandering seemed too easy stereotypes to fall within. As the story is billed as Rivera's most-autobiographical work (the roles of Flora and Eusebio are based upon his parents), perhaps the stereotypic representations are rooted entirely in reality. This, too, may explain why the plot takes so long to take off (the entire production clocking in at a whopping 2 hours and 45 minutes) rather than skimming some of the details to get to the juicy love story.

The second act opens thirty years later after Eusebio and Flora have shared a loving life together with children, grandchildren, and a home in Daleville, Alabama. This device is what I find most appealing about the show and the fact that it utilizes the same cast in each act, a la Caryl Churchill's Cloud 9. The comments on love and a life lived together are some of the most heartfelt and beautiful scenes on the subject that I have ever seen in the theatre, though a bit more editing might have made the emotional impact a bit more powerful.

The performances are mostly sufficient with two exceptions. Flora Diaz, who replaced the original actress, as Flora in Act I and Eva in Act II is simply grating in both roles and does not have the chops against the other more established actors. Socorro Santiago, on the other hand, who portrays the matronly Dona Milla in Act I and Old Flora in Act II delivers nothing less than a star-turning performance. For most of the show, I simply could not take my eyes off of her; her unglamorous, emotionally wrenching performance deservedly brings the house down on more than one occasion. The other actors do a fine job, but are most commendable in the fact that they are so good looking. All in all, the epic nature of the play makes it a grand effort and one that, though long, brings many hearty laughs and significant tears - even from this jaded reviewer.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

A.R.T.'s "The Communist Dracula Pageant"


A colleague of mine recently remarked that productions at American Repertory Theatre transcend colloquial theatre communique of "good," "bad," "I liked it," or "I didn't." The Communist Dracula Pageant, like last season's Donny Darko, is a perfect example of this otherness in theatircal discourse. I'm not sure that the play is good; I'm not sure that I liked it; but, it's one hell of a ride.


So, let's start with what I do know: Thankfully, the program and lobby are full of dramaturgical information telling me that the play is about the regime of Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceausescu and his wife, Elena. Elena, an Eva Peron-type persona, fashioned herself as a great scientist who dictated actual scientists to do research to which she would ascribe her name. Nicolae was a Communist politician who rose in rank until eventually appointing himself President of Romania. As part of his political rise, he staged pageants linking him with famous Romanian heroes, such as Vlad the Impaler, or Dracula in common parlance. Thereby the frame story of the title is established. However, the play has much more to do with Ceausescu's manipulation of power as a fascist dictator, the rebellion that led to his eventual demise, and his (and Elena's) trial and execution. It is political theatre at its most complex.


The play begins by presenting us with an interpretation of the agitprop pageants which Ceausescu mandated to further his political career. Exploiting a "bad acting" style coupled with ridiculous costumes, props, and choreography (the hammer and sickle cut-outs on the head are a nice touch), the playwright takes us into the world of the pro-Communist pageant. However, this is quickly subverted, when one of the actors asides to the audience using a Romanian dialect (all the other lines are delivered sans accent) to tell us the truth of the situation. This is a device used throughout the play to comment upon the theatrical presentation versus the factual, historic reality. It is an interesting approach, that hearkens the work of Brecht and achieves pure epic theatre. This is playwright Anne Washburn's greatest achievement or biggest downfall as the epic approach prevents us from siding with any one person.


The play uses an ensemble of actors to represent the people of Romania, officers within Ceausescu's regime, and the revolutionaries who overthrow him. As an audience, we certainly opine with the people's plight; however, we are never quite sure what we are supporting or refusing. The best example of this is a very effective scene where ensemble members dressed as stage hands and television camera crew position a dead body for a photo op. Although, the body was already dead, it is manipulated for political purpose. The scene is endemic of the entire play as it lasts too long and fails to communicate its purpose. Obviously, the play is a contemplation of the effects of power and politics upon the individual, but it also waxes poetic into the existential contemplations of truth, history, and reality. At the end, one can only identify a response of perplexion.


As previously mentioned, the production is worth seeing in its exploration of ART's unique brand of theatricalism. Veteran A.R.T. actors Remo Airaldi, Thomas Derrah, Will LeBow, and Karen MacDonald all deliver amazingly strong performances evoking the humanity in their characters even when it is not written into the script. Other members of the ensemble - primarily students at the A.R.T. institute - provide stiff, affected performances that are forgiven because they are so pretty. Expect to see these young people on Soap Operas rather than theatrical stages in their future careers. The only perplexing casting choices are John Kuntz whose overacting seemed unnecessary and cheap for the production and Matthew Maher, a NYC import, whose resume is impressive, but whose speech impediment effected his ability to morph characters which is essential in an ensemble production.


Although, I don't expect that the Communist Dracula Pageant will be appearing at a theatre near you anytime soon, I am grateful for the artistic vision of the ART to take a risk on such a show. It is particularly relevant given that it played during the heated election season. It's theme of the corruption of power certainly carries a thinly veiled political message for America in 2008 and here's hoping more theatres will dare to take a political stance over silk and softshoe.

The Kinsey Sicks "Wake the F**K Up America"



On November 5th, America woke up to the promise of a new president and democratic Senate and House which provided the perfect opening remarks for Kinsey Sicks' new show Wake the F**K Up America. This band of four drag performers concludes Theatre Offensive's Out on the Edge Queer Theatre Festival and I wish I could say it ended with a bang, but a low, dull thud like a high heel hitting an empty stage is a more apropos comparison.

Kinsey Sicks was the brainchild of Ben Schatz and Irwin Keller who perform the roles of Rachel and Winnie, respectively. It started with a group of four friends who dressed as the Andrews Sisters to attend a Bette Midler concert and were approached to perform for an event. Although they were not professional performers they realized that they all had "musical backgrounds" and decided to form the Kinsey Sicks. What the audience discovers is that their lack of formal vocal, dance, and theatrical training delivers a performance that is a cross between Wierd Al Yankovic and a college fraternity variety show. Remember that time your high school barber shop quartet brought a member of the audience up on stage... But, I don't want to give away all their gimmicks.

The "plot" of the show is a morning television talk show being filmed live before a studio audience (insert cliched audience participation here) with the Nunsensical device of keeping their Nielsen ratings up. We are introduced to each of the characters all of whom, we are assured are "real Americans." There's Winnie the nerdy, lesbian librarian-like leader of the group tall, skinny and coiffed by a giant red powder puff of a wig; Rachel the desperate, aging, and hairy foil; Trixie, the woman of color who fashions herself as a grand diva; and Trampolina, the easy, ditsy... well, it's really so cliched, you can figure it out. The plot is a loosely veiled excuse for their musical numbers which attempt to poke fun at gay marriage, body hair, sexual promiscuity, reality television, politics, and pop culture. The "script" is a smattering of puns and sexual innuendos, which may seem funny and even quite pithy in a drag bar in the Castro. Likewise, their vocal and dance talent can best be compared to performances at a karaoke bar at last call. As if their unprofessional performance wasn't bad enough, they conclude the show by thanking everyone who made this show possible and plugging their merchandise being sold in the lobby.

I was first introduced to Kinsey Sicks through short, heavily-edited clips on the internet and after sitting through a two-hour production, I believe their talent is best observed through short, heavily-edited clips on the internet. Clearly, the Sicks aspire to Charles Ludlum's brand of Theatre of the Ridiculous. However, their sophomoric humour and gimmicky performance merely achieves theatre of the tedious. Mr. Schatz and Mr. Keller have impressive resumes as lawyers who have worked passionately for LGBTQ Civil Rights and AIDS awareness and, I have no doubt, that they are having fun as the Kinsey Sicks. But, here's hoping, as the saying goes, they don't quit their day jobs.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Split Britches "Miss America"


Now through November 8, The Theatre Offensive presents the 17th Annual Out on the Edge Queer Theatre Festival featuring performance art and artists rarely seen on Boston-area stages. This festival is certainly one of Boston's most daring and accomplished enterprises turning the spotlight to artists whose work defies definition, challenges convention, and doesn't shy away from political performance and performative politics. The line-up for this year's festival includes choreographer David Parker and the Bang Group's Nut/Cracked, the drag-tastic Varla Jean Merman Loves a Foreign Tongue, Wake the F**K Up America starring The Kinsey Sicks, and Peggy Shaw and Lois Weaver's Miss America.

Peggy Shaw and Lois Weaver, which comprise two-thirds of the company, Split Britches, have risen to cult celebrity status in theatre, performance, and queer studies departments across the country. Their origination of the roles in Holly Hughes' butch/femme exploration Dress Suits to Hire earned Shaw an OBIE Award in 1987. Their original work (created with Bloolips), Belle Reprieve, a reverse-gender version of Streetcar Named Desire, has been widely anthologized and studied as an example of "lesbian performance and of the contemporary critique of gender politics*." Co-founders of NYC's WOW (Women's One World) Cafe, these artists are accomplished veterans and passionate in their political performances.

Their current work, Miss America, continues their legacy of exploring feminism, exploiting the butch/femme aesthetic, scrutinizing American history and politics, and challenging the representation of women on stage. However, there is a subtext to the performance representative in the aging female body on stage. Throughout the performance, their didactic message is both overshadowed and complimented by the aging bodies of the performers and all of the inherent (im)perfections. In performance art, the medium is the body. Therefore, the status of the body must be considered as both content and form.


The performance begins with Weaver weaving her way through the audience wearing a full-lenth fur coat, high heels, black bob wig, heavy make-up, and plastic tiara. She carries around her neck a camera and shoots pictures of members of the audience with the repeated phrase, "You never told me..." As we watch, assist, and participate in her maneuvering through the audience, Shaw sits on a park bench stage left staring at two capsized refrigerators, an industrial fan, and a slideshow screen, which comprises the set. By the time she has reached the stage, Weaver has commented upon memory, loss, ecological disaster, personal relationships, denial, et al. The caution with which she steps over chairs and relies upon assistance from the audience brings us into a compassionate cooperation with the performance.

Upon reaching the stage, the performance begins. Shaw assumes the position of a body struck by a vehicle with one shoe off - her body prostrate on the ground. Weaver takes pictures of her posture and questions her about her situation from the audience while carrying on a dialogue with this assumed body. The double entendre of the title need not be more obvious; unfortunately, the dialogue, at times, will be.

As a central theme to the work, Weaver stands in front of the slideshow screen and delivers a monologue reminiscent of television reporters documenting Hurricane Wilma. However, the connotations in the audience's mind is Hurricane Katrina which is skewered for political negligence and an apathy towards the American people.


Another theme of the work is the Miss America contest. Both performers state that they have dreamed of being named Miss America. However, this device is quickly subverted through the syntax of missing America. Weaver, in her fur, heels, and tiara, remembers an America where you could see the U.S.A. in a chevrolet, reminiscing the mainfest destiny of 1950s America. While Shaw stands on a capsized refrigerator telling us her childhood dreams of being Miss America.

The work of Weaver and Shaw defies cursory criticism as it is filled with images, words, dialogues, jokes, dances, and much more. It is impossible to define, but a medium they have been exploring for twenty years. Some audiences, familiar with their work, feel that they have not progressed in twenty years and wonder if their conventions (tap dancing, plastic bags, nudity) still resonate or are as powerful as they once were. However, I must return to the image of the aging body of the performers and the delicate grace and caution with which they moved through the space. If, as Brooks tells us, theatre can happen in an empty space with another watching - the choice of whose body (and thereby whose story) is displayed is central to the message. I thought Miss America was a beautiful work that continues - as these two performers have been doing for twenty years - to challenge the medium of theatre and audiences.



*Worthen, W.B. ed. "Introduction to Belle Reprieve." The Harcourt Brace Anthology of Drama. 2nd ed. Fort Worth, TX: Harcourt Brace, 1996.