nytheatre Archive
FringeNYC 2002
SHOW REVIEWS ON THIS PAGE: Centralia Presents Generica, I Kissed Dash Riprock, The Becky Show, Up To The Sky, onemanshow, Transformations, E To Jamaica Center, All American Boy, The Boob Movie, A Touch of Rigor Mortis, Confessions of An Art School Model, Pillow Scars
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CENTRALIA PRESENTS GENERICA by Julie Congress |
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Centralia is absolutely amazing! Their show, Centralia Presents
Generica, is an astoundingly well-thought-out, well-done, hilarious
musical. Probably the only way to do this show justice would be to end
every sentence in this review with an exclamation point. It honestly
doesn’t get much better than this! It starts out with six completely different, unrelated scenes, each played one right after another. First are three miners in Centralia, Pennsylvania, where an underground mine fire has been burning for 40 years and is predicted to burn for another 100. Then there is the thrice-widowed Mrs. Carmichael and the young delivery boy Wallace, both Centralia inhabitants. Next come three New Jersey housepainters who used to be part of a circus when they were back in Russia. After that are Dave and Sharon with their marital and office problems. Next come the couch potato Pothead and his mother. Lastly are a sergeant and two soldiers as they prepare to jump out of a plane into the middle of a war zone. Interspersed among these are one very large bird, a Yeti, and a Buddhist monk-turned-coffee house cashier. As the show progresses, all of these seemingly unrelated scenes slowly come together. You never see it coming, or know how it is going to happen, but you can always rely on it being clever, side-splitting, and downright astonishing. All of the characters are played by three amazing performers (who also co-wrote the show): Matt Higgins, Jay Rhoderick, and Kevin Scott. Aside from their great acting skills, each also engages in Russian dances, gymnastics and song. The music, written by composer/pianist Joshua Sitron is quite catchy; days later, you find yourself singing "War is nothing to be afraid of/It’s just people killing other people." (Just make sure you don’t sing too loud, or you’ll start getting funny looks.) The technical aspects of the show—costumes, set, and multimedia—are also ingenious. Each actor comes equipped with only a jumpsuit and two brightly colored scarves, however in their hands it seems there is no limit to the possibilities of those items. The set is a jumble of mobile metal rods which becomes anything from a coffee-bar to scaffolding to a giant jungle gym. Projected on a screen, Barbie dolls play news anchors, little toy soldiers go to war, and math symbols pop up during a musical number. And believe it or not, Centralia Presents Generica, along with all of its creativity and humor, also contains an anti-war message. The show has everything—go see it! It’s an amazing experience and you’ll come out beaming. |
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I KISSED DASH RIPROCK by Daniel Asher |
I Kissed Dash Riprock is a one woman show at The Red Room, the
intimate black box above the Kraine Theater. Only a few minutes into the
show, writer/performer Cyndi Freeman looks like a very excited bird in
too small a cage. Freeman’s performance is high octane, and at times I
felt like I was a watching a very attractive Trout Lure, spinning, and
shining when the light hits just right. Her story is that of a struggling actress, of marginal talent, dealing with the excitement, trials, and pitfalls of making a life in the entertainment industry. All the while, she’s obsessed with the famous film star Dash Riprock. She seats you in the front car of the roller coaster ride that is her pursuit of success as an artist, as well as the chase and catch of Dash. Freeman also portrays five other characters in the story, such as her best friend Dot and Mr. Riprock himself. Freeman’s transitions between characters are muddy, and lack specificity to make them real. She is sometimes two or three words into a character change before that character’s appropriate accent or speech pattern kicks in. The exception is the character of her hopelessly romantic inner voice "Juliet." Freeman’s best acting is displayed when Juliet surfaces. Told in four sections, Ms. Freeman uses the three 15-second blackouts to change her outfit (and, I imagine, to catch her breath). However, the blackout’s intended effect of delineating time and location in the story goes unrealized. The piece makes its point early and could use some pruning. Overall, I Kissed Dash Riprock is an engaging ride, and I would like to see Freeman do material with more depth than this neurotic thirty something "why can’t I find love" female. |
| THE BECKY SHOW by Jaene Leonard |
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Rebecca Hardin-Thrift probably shocked her family when she married and
took the hyphen with her husband’s last name. Chances are, Trash don’t
do no hyphens. The Becky Show, playing at Los Kabayitos, is a
bittersweet one-woman tale of growing up Trash in a poor cotton-mill
North Carolina town. During her hour-long show, Hardin-Thrift charms us
with her angelic smile and southern drawl as she sings the praises of
sweet iced tea (the elixir of Trash), touts the power of bacon grease (ain’t
nothin in the world that don’t taste better with a li’l grease) and
shows slides of her wayward family, painting for us pictures of tragic
lives with her story-telling skills and sharp wit. The Becky Show is complexly crafted, bidding us closer with funny tips on making it as Trash, (have custody of all your babies) and then hitting us over the head with the deeper desperation of the characters we come to know through Wal-Mart portraits projected on the screen. Hardin-Thrift is brave in her honesty, coolly doling out her family’s tragedies in humorous quips. But once or twice, she stops—as if her own words were transporting her momentarily to the shotgun house where she grew up and, as a child, often ate fried potatoes for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The show is an exploration of the truth-in-stereotypes about growing up poor by someone who knows—a talented woman who made it out of the slums seemingly unscathed. One wonders how she acquired the know-how, though her arm’s-length delivery of the more difficult material provides a little insight. Hardin-Thrift holds the stage well, however, and dives in fully for the laughs she gets. This show is worth a see and, with a just a bit more development, could be an excellent vehicle for her. |
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UP TO THE SKY by Jeffrey Lewonczyk |
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Antonio Sacre’s mom has terrible feet. This is the first
revelation of Up to the Sky, his one-man show about her.
And though not much more is said about her feet per se, the next
hour is an inventory of all her other quirks, including: her
relentless chain-smoking; her constant purse-rummaging; her
mouth (which would shame a sailor); and her boundless love for
her three sons, whom she raised on her own. Sacre is a fine mimic. A recording of his mother reciting poetry in her classic Boston twang attests to this. Whenever he jumps into the skin of another character, the air in the room changes, and for a split second you wonder where Sacre went. His transitions out of character aren’t as smooth: he tries hard to be open and endearing, but his "neutral" persona is so pointedly good-natured that he positively twinkles. I wondered if he (or rather, his persona) was trying to sell me something, or had something to hide. I was mildly surprised when that didn’t turn out to be the case. In fact, there’s very little drama or suspense in the piece. When Sacre begins imitating his mother’s laugh, which unfailingly degenerates into a bitter, hacking cough, one suspects that the rest of the play will be about her affliction with lung cancer, or something equally heart-rending. But Mrs. Sacre is alive and well, and remains a tireless supporter of her sons’ endeavors. (A hysterical reenactment of her behavior at Antonio’s first Fringe debut brings this point home.) Other than the economic and emotional difficulties of living in a fatherless household—difficulties that are in no way harped upon or exploited for sentiment—life wasn’t too terrible for the Sacres. Eventually, I decided that the lack of turmoil might just be the point of the show. Up to the Sky is simply a tender, affectionate portrait of a woman very dear to the artist, whose love for her proves to be infectious. And who can argue with a little more love in the world? |
| ONEMANSHOW by Joe Murphy |
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The title onemanshow connotes a spectrum of possibilities, ranging
from enjoying an artist’s sublime versatility of characterizations to
being stuck in a theatre suffering through a poor cousin of the genre.
This production is certainly at the better end of the spectrum. The show
presents several major characters and a few minor ones, all expertly
brought to life by Myles Thoroughgood. Though almost all are
African-American, the personas he creates are a diverse lot in age,
outlook and lifestyle. The first character makes you wonder initially if Thoroughgood has not perhaps wandered onto the stage by mistake, but soon you realize that the segues into and out of the various characters will be as smooth and sophisticated as the acting itself. Credit the director Thommie Walsh, who one also assumes is responsible for the simple yet effective lighting changes that frame and complement the action. The first character, who suggests an odd melding of Jerry Seinfeld and Desmond Tutu, gives an initial glimpse into Thoroughgood’s talent for wholly inhabiting the skin of another human being and for commanding the stage with his physical presence. But when he slips into his second personage, who couldn’t be more different in terms of attitude, voice and gender, you realize the performer’s talents go far beyond mimicry. Thoroughgood started his career as a dancer, and those skills are in evidence in the grace, power and dexterity that subtly inform some of his personas, and in several instances of flat-out boogying. In addition to acting and dancing, Thoroughgood also wrote the pieces, which is an impressive hat trick, since each character’s story is believable and compelling. A few might come dangerously close to caricature were it not for the performer’s competence, but the others are entirely fresh, such as one child whose innocent observations of family life slowly reveal a darker reality evident to the adult listener. The subject matter jumps around from romance, politics, and self-help to racial and gender identity, and the mood varies from comic to poignant, all of it suffused with intelligence and wit. The only nagging peccadillo is that the pace sometimes seems rushed so that some rich moments or significant lines were not given sufficient time to register. All in all, though, onemanshow is onegoodshow. |
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TRANSFORMATIONS by Daniel Asher |
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Fairly tales, and their morals, try to give us through story telling and
imagination a context for how we feel, think, and reflect on our world,
and they are certainly not reserved for children. Transformations,
by Anne Sexton, uses a few of the classic "Brothers Grimm Fairly Tales"
to give context and a vehicle for her poems. This two-woman performance
piece winds us nonstop through seven selected tales and Sexton’s
emotional interpretations, connections, and understandings of them. The actresses are barefoot and with only a stool embody the different poems through simple but expressive choreography. It took about three or four minutes for Valerie Shull and Samantha Gleisten to warm up, but when they did, each looked like she was enjoying the taste that Sexton’s words were leaving in her mouth. There were some homoerotic sexually charged references, word plays, interactions, and gestures that didn’t quite have the strength needed to land firmly. Neither actress seemed very comfortable repeating the line "A woman who loves a woman stays forever young." |
| E TO JAMAICA CENTER by Hope Cartelli |
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I haven’t seen such a motley crew of New Yorker stereotypes on the set
of a train car since The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3. Dark Moon NYC’s
E to Jamaica Center is hoping, I think, to make us care about
these stereotypes (there are 26 in all). While that goal is never fully
realized, the cast is so energetic and engaging, I couldn’t help but be
entertained at times. Playwright Jericho Turner is interested in the poetically ironic and chooses some classic subway passengers of yore to do his O. Henry-type work. In the opening minutes a stripper with a heart of gold, working to feed her child, quotes Robert Frost as swiftly and deftly as she curses out a suitor the next seat over. Later a seemingly ruthless financial executive on his way to work reveals that he secretly loves to give away money to the homeless denizens of the subway deep he encounters every day (said executive is commuting to the World Trade Center as this E train exists in pre-September 11th New York). There is even the train’s resident "bum" who turns out to be so wise about the world, an oracle ahead of his time. Observing the rules of a good O. Henry yarn, I prepared myself for the bum to be the father of the executive or the stripper, or for some other action-altering plot line but, alas, the characters never get beyond treating each other as their confessors/sounding boards. There are numerous other troubled souls on this E, harboring prejudiced, lovelorn, drunken, etc., skeletons in their various closets that they divulge readily to anybody, listening or not. Is this Turner’s theory of what would happen if one day on your daily subway rounds everyone in your car decided to turn to each other and, sans personal introductions, give each other their condensed life history? If the answer is yes, my only qualm as a native New Yorker is that I hope we are far more unique than Turner gives us credit for being. |
| ALL AMERICAN BOY by Elizabeth Rothaus |
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Early in the pop-rock musical All American Boy, a manager
advises his group of boy-band wannabes "the raw talent is
there—we just have to squeeze it out," before he orchestrates
their hilarious transformation from regular guys to
chart-topping superstars. In fact, the raw talent in this
production shines through abundantly and if it requires any
tweaking at all, it’s minimal. All American Boy brilliantly uses the pop-music vernacular while simultaneously skewering the illusion of perfect teen idols created by savvy publicists and media hype. Thomas Caruso’s music sounds authentically "pop" with close harmonies, synthesized backup, and a pulsing rhythm throughout. More impressive still is the effective use of songs to propel the story forward. The book and lyrics by James Edwin Parker cleverly integrate contemporary culture (such as online chatrooms in the entertaining song "Dot Com Baby") and convincingly utilize language and topics of discussion favored by teenage boys. It is great fun watching these actors, who perfectly embody the types of teen idols (including the ubiquitous tough guy, clean-cut kid, and Latino) proffered by groups like *NSYNC and the Backstreet Boys. The choreography and costumes are also right on the mark in showing that the boys are just as pre-fabricated as the moves and clothes they employ. The discovery that some of the band members are gay serves as the catalyst for the show’s moral imperative that those who are not true to themselves ultimately will crash and burn. This more serious message balances well with the satirical elements in the first act, but suffers somewhat in the second when the plot becomes much more steeped in camp. This is disappointing, as the promise of the first act is so high; the second act is a bit of a let-down by comparison. Still, this is a fun show with lots of bright spots including many well-crafted songs, a compelling plot-line and entertaining performances by a versatile cast. It’s certainly worth a look by anyone who’s ever been obsessed with a boy band—and let’s face it, that’s most of us at one time or another. |
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THE BOOB MOVIE by Seth Bisen-Hersh |
| Boobs are wonderful things. If you
agree, you should go see The Boob Movie. If you don’t agree and
aren’t amused by people who do, don’t go. And if you have any objection
to seeing seven hot girls topless and also three guys naked, too, then
this is not the show for you. But if you are into new musicals and into
nudity and especially breasts and into having a fun time, make sure you
catch this show. The show is about two misunderstood nerds’ quest to see boobs for the first time. The premise is that these two, Boon and Derek, go on a double date with Boon’s girlfriend, Holly, and the new, cool girl, Elizabeth. The girls, sick of the nerds’ geekiness, tell them that if they manage to be in a high speed police chase and escape, then they will show them their breasts. The show is very funny but is inconsistent and uneven. There are some scenes that are truly hysterical, while other scenes drag and feel superfluous to the plot; in fact some of the extra characters feel that way, as well. The show is also a little slowly paced and feels choppy, but that’s probably due to short rehearsal time. Jeff Hylton’s lyrics are often funny, rhyme really nicely, but lack much substance. David Azarow’s music is a bit too pop-oriented for my taste; I would have liked to hear some more lyrical melodies and less typical chord progressions. Also, there are quite a few songs without a melody at all, which I did not really care for. One rap-type number is quite enough. The songs are at their best when they are mostly about the subject matter of boobies. The best song, musically, was actually written by a different composer, Sean McCourt. The young cast has a lot of potential. They all act their parts well, but although there aren’t any atrocious singers, there aren’t any spectacular ones either. There were some sound issues whenever the actors were offstage, which made it hard to catch a few songs and some dialogue. The best reasons to see the show are definitely the seven pairs of really nice breasts. Regardless, everyone left with a smile on his/her face. This is a fun, funny, enjoyable show with wonderful titillations, but do not expect a masterpiece. |
| A TOUCH
OF RIGOR MORTIS by Josephine Cashman |
| A Touch of Rigor Mortis is
a play about three men who are employed by a millionaire to take turns
watching the dead body of his young wife. The wife is played by Maggie
Bofill, who lies virtually immobile onstage throughout the entire play
(no mean feat, especially as this reviewer can hardly stay still for
five minutes). Written and directed by Kevin Del Aguila, the play runs
almost two hours with no intermission. The first third of the play seems
to have no discernable point, and is therefore somewhat confusing. The
three men have monologues about their lives and the relationships (or
non-relationships) to one another as they take shifts keeping an eye on
the embalmed body. The three men could not be more different from one another, and they often clash. Jack is a loudmouth bully who loves french fries and appears to hate everyone, abrasively played by Joe Mortimer. Harold is the sensitive artist who mulls over the ideas of death, immortality and suicide. Josh Weinstein does a fine job portraying Harold, but he is sometimes inaudible as he runs about the stage and talks of his dreams of Marilyn Monroe and Che Guevara. Michael Silva gives an excellent performance as the mentally slow Charles, who falls in love with the body, which he decides to name "Mary." His doomed romance with the dead Mary is sad, funny, and heartbreaking to watch. The play springs to life with the sudden appearance of Mary’s husband, who brings news that shakes things up considerably. Unfortunately, interesting as it is, it’s too little, too late: though the language is at times lyrical and quite moving, this is an essentially weak script that some fine and earnest performances are hard pressed to overcome. |
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CONFESSIONS OF AN ART SCHOOL MODEL by Michael Criscuolo |
| Confessions of an Art School
Model is equal parts art history lesson, figure drawing class, and
reminiscence. Writer/performer Talia Pura sounds off about her almost
thirty years as an art school model while posing for artist Derek
Brueckner. This informal, one-person show has many things to say—perhaps
too many—but is never less than interesting and engaging throughout. By performing the show stark naked, Pura makes two points. The first is that studying a naked person in such a clinical fashion takes the titillation out of doing so. Secondly, being physically naked doesn't mean as much as being emotional naked. Since models usually remain silent during a sitting, being nude around strangers means nothing to them because they never reveal anything about themselves. Pura is obviously very comfortable with her body and who she is, and she makes the audience feel equally comfortable about spending an hour with her in her birthday suit. By the time she gets to the more confessional second half—which spotlights a recollection of the great, lost love of her life—she has made both of her points very well. It's to her credit that she's able to get so much out of her words while moving so little. Confessions is also interactive. Pura interacts with Brueckner, and freely converses with the audience, throughout. Afterwards, you may go on stage to see Brueckner's sketches up close, and you may even buy one if you like. But watch out for sitting in the front row: you may catch the glare of his easel lamp. |
| PILLOW SCARS by Josephine Cashman |
| Pillow Scars is an engaging
and funny look at the meanings and ramifications of Sex and Love. Ethan
Kanfer has deftly written six vignettes that are quite remarkable, if at
times a little predictable. Simply and effectively staged, these short
plays are cleverly directed by Daniela Farris, and while the pace was at
times a little slow, Daniela Farris and Ethan Kanfer have found a solid
cast to work with. The stories segue from one to another with notable
lighting and well-chosen musical selections ranging from Frank Sinatra
to John Waite to Hall and Oates and back again. The first, A Perfect Day, is about the innocent questions of a young child to her Nanny about the technical aspects of "making love" and orgasm. Afterglow shows the audience the comic communication and miscommunication that goes on between lovers and their need to spice things up in the bedroom, while Pillow Scars covers long distance romance and loneliness. The last three tales, however, are far and away the most effective and well-written. Out of Uniform is a strong and moving piece about Miss Logan, an English teacher and her student, Carlotta, who has observed her masturbating. Denise Dunn is marvelously subtle and touching as the English teacher, and Erin Carey plays Carlotta with all the confusion and zeal of a girl who is just becoming aware of her emerging sexuality. In The Great Thing About You, Chance Muehleck is terrific as the obtuse Jack who seems to be unaware of the crush his best friend Holly has on him. She attempts to tell him how she feels and he continues to blithely deflect and misread her statements. The final piece, Strike A Match, is sly and witty, with a laugh-out loud, sweet denouement that is a refreshing way to end the evening. |
