nytheatre Archive
FringeNYC 2003
SHOW REVIEWS ON THIS PAGE: Tom Crean - Antarctic Explorer, The Statue, Scalpel, Broken Things, Citizen Mendez, El Sueno de Sor Juana, No Good Nigga Bluez, Vincent, Clinton's View, Tess' Last Night, Waiter, Waiter!, Neo/Retro/Woyzeck
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TOM CREAN—ANTARCTIC EXPLORER by Maggie Cino |
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Forgotten by history, Tom Crean was a three time Antarctic veteran and
the only man to have served under both Captain Robert Scott and Sir
Ernest Shackleton. Written and performed by Aidan Dooley, Tom Crean—Antarctic
Explorer presents Tom as a lilting, loveable man. As the play
begins, Tom relates basic facts about Antarctica, demonstrates the
clothes you need to wear. You feel you’re on a very special museum field
trip for very intelligent fourth graders. And right when you’re about to
give up all hope for drama, and accept that you’re simply going to learn
some interesting facts from a very nice man, something changes. You’re not on that field trip anymore, you’re in the middle of an incredible survival story. The context is the final expedition of Captain Robert Scott. Tom Crean is part of a team sent back from the expedition a mere 150 miles from the South Pole. After forfeiting a man from their group and a valuable piece of equipment to the men going ahead, Tom and two other men head back to base camp. Heavy with the disappointment of not being allowed to continue, three men do the work of four with not enough rations. Soon, two men are doing the work of four, and they refuse to leave their sick leader behind. For this is not just an action adventure. It is also a meditation on the nature of heroism and on how to treat other human beings. And the theme of caring about your fellow humans that echoes through the piece also resonates in the acting. Aidan Dooley gives a subtle and intelligent performance, interacting with the audience in a gentle, respectful way, which draws you into this private world as a very special visitor. And the beginning of the play makes some sense when you realize Tom Crean is not the sort of man to lead you into the Antarctic unprepared. For this is ultimately a play about survival, not just of the individual, but of the team. Tom, the ultimate survivor, tells us, "To live is what true heroism is about." |
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THE STATUE by Kelly McAllister |
What if, in the near future, New York leased all
its landmarks to corporate interests? That is the basic premise of East
River’s current production of Alison Weiss’ The Statue, now
playing at the Bank Street Theatre. It’s a good question, and a funny
idea. In the play, Lady Liberty has been transformed into an
ultra-trendy restaurant, one of those velvet rope snoot factories where
the huddled masses are denied access. All is going well for the place,
until a visit from the dreaded Landmark Commission occurs. I won’t say
any more about the plot or I will give too much away. Weiss' script works fairly well—I laughed, and thought about the premise and how close to reality it is, which is what I think is the intention of the production. Helping this clever script along is the direction by Sasha Sagn, adding odd bits of what future culture might be like, including beaming chips to send information. There is also a bit with French accents in the beginning that I found quite funny. The cast is of mixed degrees of talent and/or training. At times, there were problems with some of the actors’ diction, and at other times I couldn’t hear what was being said. Sadly, one of the worst examples of this was Weiss herself, who plays Eve, the snooty manager/hostess of the restaurant. Granted, it was a twelve o’clock matinee, and the show’s opening performance, but I would think that of all the people who want the text heard, nobody would be more clear than the playwright. Salvatore Brienik, in a few smaller roles, makes good mileage out of his time on stage. The standout in the show is William DePaolo, who plays Howard, the bright representative of the city’s Landmark Commission, and the only character in the play who seems to know what the world was like fifty years earlier. The moment DePaolo hit the stage, the audience leaned into the show. He exudes warmth, intelligence, and humor—all with an ease I found invigorating. All in all, I enjoyed the show, and hope that East River Productions develops it further. |
| SCALPEL by Jeffrey Cassaro |
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As I approached the Wings Theatre early Sunday morning, I saw a small
crowd forming outside, as the positive buzz about Scalpel was
clearly of interest to many. D’arcy Drollinger’s rock musical, with John
Ficarra’s direction and this cast of players is nothing short of a sure
fire hit! In this show we watch as the evil doctor, played sinisterly brilliant by Michael Francis Stromar, inserts computer chips to use the minds (and sculpted bodies) of his beautiful but deadly fembots. The subject matter and the jokes are very up-to-date as we watch socialites turn into hit-women! Like an episode of a great Saturday morning cartoon, the songs, drama and incredibly well-directed and executed fight scenes will keep you amused and in awe of the ideas and vision of the production. The casting of the three enhanced vixens, Anne Gaynor, Candis Cayne and Laura Le Bleu is no accident as these women look, act and sing beautifully, capturing the very essence of camp humor, which is often overplayed. This company seems very well aware of that fact. The constructive use of hand mikes and clever direction of the supporting cast kept the comedy non-stop. I also liked Ficarra’s use of the theatre’s space, with characters running about the audience, and the use of the side stages, all of which adds to the animation. It all seemed to appeal to the sellout crowd this afternoon. If buzz is truly what these shows are all working for, I would say that Scalpel is working hard and deserving of all it garners. |
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BROKEN THINGS by Fred Backus |
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Broken Things by Veva Dianne Lawson invites the audience to
see the world through the eyes of Adam, a young adult living
with the developmental disorder of autism. Surprisingly,
Broken Things appears to cast the neurological disorder in
terms of a physical disorder, separating the main character into
two roles, that of the mind and the mute body of Adam. Both Colin Clarke as Adam’s mind and Yvonnick Muller as his body do an admirable job given the choices made in this production. In particular, Muller’s beautiful and subtle physical work is impressive to watch. But I found the use of the convention puzzling. Adam rails against his body for his disorder, yet Clarke’s portrayal of Adam as separated from his body retains fully the characteristics of autism. If the autistic mind of Adam is deluded in blaming his body, then it is a theme that remains unexamined in this story. If we are to infer that autism should indeed be seen as a prison of the body, then even more of an explanation is called for. Rather than illuminating the disorder, one is left with even more questions. How much Adam is actually able to express his emotions to the outside world remains unclear. One is not even sure whether Adam can speak at all, or to what extent. Nor do the supporting roles offer much insight. The persevering mother, the protective brother, and the father running off to a younger woman in a midlife crisis are all stock characters to one degree or another. And while supposedly portraying the world as seen through Adam’s eyes, Broken Things comes off as more of an apology and explanation for the family’s final decision. We are led to believe that they have learned much from their trial, yet what that lesson is remains unclear. When Adam’s brother David (Daniel Stessen) tells his mother Ellen (Deborah Honsaker) that Adam is actually the happy one, one must question whether they know Adam any better than we do. Adam’s life, at least as presented here, is bleak and frightening, giving one the feeling that autism is indeed a horrible curse, and allowing very little to hope for in terms of Adam’s future happiness or self-fulfillment. |
| CITIZEN MENDEZ by Joshua Scher |
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Citizen Mendez, by Jack Shea, takes an ambitious look at the
concept and consequences of borders. Wisely, the play stays grounded,
veering away from esoteric or ideological viewpoints, and choosing
instead the personal over the political. Set somewhere on the Californian/Mexican border, the play dances among three separate stories on one devastating night. Mayfair and Angel are two Border Patrol Agents who spend the majority of their nightshifts struggling to stay warm and make each other laugh. Jose and a very pregnant Marta are a young Mexican couple hiding high in the mountains on their way to freedom. And in the desert valley, in a physically warm but emotionally cold house, are Sharon and John, an estranged, self-proclaimed YUPPIE couple. The stakes are sky high for everyone right from the get-go. Mayfair and Angel are desperate to get a grip on life—whether it’s impending child support court dates or fierce competition with their colleagues, the two can’t seem to catch a break. Jose nurses severe wounds inflicted by drug smugglers, while Marta tries to control her labor pains, all the while knowing they must keep moving. And Sharon pushes John for them to have a baby, though he is more interested in delivering foals and playing golf. As the play unfolds, the three stories invade each other creating even more complications as they merge into one tale. Surprisingly, the Border Agent thread proves to be the most compelling one. Though heartfelt, the other two stories have been told before to the point where they seem stereotypes. Whereas, Mayfair’s and Angel’s is the most original take on the Mexican immigration situation. Unfortunately for all, the dialogue seems inauthentic, shackling the characters with exposition rather than driving them with wants. Nevertheless, all of the actors worked hard to and still succeeded in telling the story. Overall, Citizen Mendez forces one to consider how destructive, not descriptive, arbitrary invisible lines can be. |
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EL SUENO DE SOR JUANA by Ivanna Cullinan |
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What might well be the sexiest curtain in FringeNYC hangs on the stage
at El Sueno de Sor Juana. It is sparkly and theatrical, promising
something either utterly fantastic or possibly very cheesy to follow. It
is actually a bit of a tease. Although this piece is certainly low on
the cheese-factor, what follows was not always coherent enough as a
whole to invite me in. However, I was struck by the strong performers
and ideas within this piece. Mujeres en Ritual have used the epic poem by Sor Juana, "El Sueno" as a framework for exploration. The title means "dream." Now, in that a dream can contain a series of unrelated images that somehow do flow together, this piece does partially behave like a dream. Some of the sequences are interesting but they exist separately and do not evoke anything particular in themselves. The symbols or images are not fleshed out enough to contain the sequences as a complete piece. An interesting initial image is never revisited or referred to, leading me to wonder if it was necessary at all to start with that specific image. The program states that the piece transports the dream to a contemporary border town. This border town setting is referred to only twice and could be exploited much more strongly to get the vision across. That said, the four women who comprise the company are strong dancers and sometimes I would find a moment that startled me. The verse is largely performed by Mara Maciel as Sor Juana. She is completely comfortable in addressing us, there is something almost thirties-style cabaret in her delivery. As the piece moves from segment to segment, other dancers take on the text delivery and sometimes the dancer’s face will seem to morph into a mask through which the text arrives. There is occasional and wonderful live guitar accompaniment by Magdalena Loza. As the Spanish in this piece is both Baroque and Mexican, it may not be understandable to some Spanish speakers. As a person who does not speak Spanish, I was initially happy that an English translation is available at the theater. However the poem is complex, by no means accessible through a cursory read, and the theater is too dark to read the poem during the performance. It does not seem to be incorporated for its literal meaning but for where it takes the piece and so that does not stand in its way. The lack of wholeness to the vision does. |
| NO GOOD NIGGA BLUEZ by Frank Kuzler |
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No Good Nigga Bluez brings someone from the outside as close as
you can get to intensely personal and often internalized feelings. Being
white, it is impossible for me to say what it is like to be a black man
in post-Civil Rights America, but as the tagline of its postcard
promises, No Good Nigga Bluez gave me a glimpse. In fact, it gave
more than a glimpse, for I left with many insights into the details of
being a black male in America today. The show is structured as a card game played by three friends who are telling stories about growing up black in contemporary America. The stories draw a portrait of the ugly and ignorant face of racism, one that is based in fear and, unfortunately, more domestic than we like to think. One story I found particularly poignant relates how a young man earns and saves enough money to buy his own car and is simply listening to the radio outside his own home when the police approach (based on an erroneous report) and proceed to demand that he get out of his car. At first, he internally debates telling them who he is and that it is his car, but on second thought, and inspired by a healthy dose of pride, he stands firm, saying nothing and disobeying the officer's command to put his hands on the car. He stubbornly persists, realizing that he is just acting like, what he calls, "one of those other kinds of _____ ," and the police prepare to beat the young man into submission. In mid-swing, the policeman checks himself, seeing that the young man is wearing a Morehouse College tee-shirt, and asks if he is in school. With a simple "yes," he is now a different kind of _____, one that is accepted by the police. He justly concludes with the question, "what if I wasn't wearing that tee-shirt or what if I did not have the ability to work and actually save enough money to buy my own car or better, go to school?" With the aid of video interviews, which add an interesting dimension to the whole, the piece explores modern perceptions of the word at the center of the show. There is also a segment telling the story of the word itself, its history and etymology, which climaxes with the hypocrisy and inconsistencies of its use being exposed. There is so much more that can be said about No Good Nigga Bluez. In all, the presentation is simple and effective, right down to costumes which has each character wearing a solid red, white or blue shirt, and each element of the show blends nicely together, including the hip-hop versified form, the video, and the scene-work. Each of the varied performances by Sékou Writes, Mo Beasley and J-Square (who also wrote the show) are engaging and personally felt. I left sensing that I had been invited to witness something intensely private and completely believed. |
| VINCENT by Joshua Scher |
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Vincent is a delightful one-act play by Jessie Robles and
Jessica Curtis Baade that explores love in the time of
cockroaches. Elizabeth, a pathological neat-freak, and Vincent,
a Napoleon-esque cockroach, square off against each other in an
East Village apartment. While this horrified and grossed out
girl frantically picks off Vincent’s brethren, the diabolical
bug embarks on a guerrilla campaign of terror, pooping in her
toothbrush, invading her ear, and much much more. Vincent is wonderfully directed by Jim Iorio, who has come up with some very creative and entertaining solutions for a play that takes places simultaneously on two different dimensional scales: human and vermin. Using the inherent limitations of a FringeNYC show, Iorio constructs a surprising, fun, and elastic world. No less impressive, the actors play their parts with gusto. Iorio wisely puts a rock star cast together and lets them have fun. Oh, and they're gross… in a good way. All in all, this production embodies what FringeNYC should be: an environment for work that isn't necessarily commercial but is chock full of class and entertainment. |
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CLINTON’S VIEW: A HELL’S KITCHEN STORY by Joshua Scher |
| Clinton’s View is a collection
of four plays, spanning four decades (sixties through the nineties), all
set in a Hell’s Kitchen apartment building. The frame of the piece is
built by the pseudo-narrator, Clinton O’Grady, a reminiscing
superintendent who teeters along the edge of the chasm of Alzheimer’s.
Written by four different writers, the piece maintains a remarkable cohesion often not seen in collaborations of this nature. In a wise narrative choice, a character from one play always makes it into the next. This simple device provides an effective bridge from one piece to another while still allowing for each to maintain its much-appreciated autonomy. Ultimately, this proves a better and subtler framework than Clinton‘s quasi-poetic waxings, which feel more like maudlin unwanted interruptions than narration. Refreshingly, all four of these plays remember the key to drama: conflict. Within each story are characters with pressing wants, facing difficult (though sometimes contrived) obstacles. Shelley McPherson captures this wonderfully, appearing in two of the pieces as, respectively, an overbearing mother and a cunningly crazy prostitute. One play in particular stood out for me, Scratching Hell’s Itch. Two Viet Nam vets, an aspiring electronics repair guy, and a dope dealer all collide in this small apartment, each desperately searching for relief from life. Actor Jeff Auer does a fantastic job driving the scene, navigating us through its various peaks and valleys. Unfortunately, the scene’s intensity is diminished by a poor artistic decision: when the play calls for one of the characters to engage in literal self-flagellation, the actor actually inflicts bruises upon himself. Whether due to naiveté or machismo, this staging serves more to distress in a distracting, rather than dramatic way. Apparently, someone forgot that verisimilitude often requires an avoidance of the actual. All in all, though, a nice collection of some sound storytelling. |
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TESS’ LAST NIGHT by Jeffrey Cassaro |
| Tess’ Last Night is about the
young and unmarried Tess, who trades the suburbs of Canadatown to pursue
a career in NYC’s Children’s Theater. It is the wholesome portrayal by
Carrie Libling that makes me believe in Tess’ dream. The equally
convincing performances of Leigh Williams as Mariana and Breanna Pine as
Dahlia (the two jaded reigning queens of the Theater) and Christine
Carroll as the show’s sarcastic narrator make me believe in Tess’
frustration achieving it! Calling this a musical is not fair; it is a comedy with some hysterical musical numbers added in, which I am afraid I missed parts of, as I was busy laughing. The songs are short and sometimes silly but this cast is more than able to sing them convincingly, especially the women in this production. The sarcasm and slurs run rampant but the deliveries made by this tight cast keep it lighthearted and fun. The sets are cleverly constructed to move quickly and the costumes, although minimal, are often as amusing as the lines and musical numbers. I enjoyed laughing at it all so much. The chorus members are all very skilled and seem to be having as much fun as the audience, especially in "Be A Diva," a number worthy of a much larger stage. If this show remains this tight and this entertaining, I see no last night for Tess’ Last Night. It is just so much fun! |
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WAITER, WAITER! by Kelly McAllister |
| Anyone who has ever waited tables
in Manhattan knows what a de-humanizing and awful job it can be. As a
veteran waiter of eight years here in NYC, I know for a fact that there
are often dark intentions behind the pleasant smile of many a server.
David Simpatico’s comedy Waiter, Waiter! explores the nastier
aspects of restaurant life in a scorching production at the Greenwich
House Theatre. This is a fantastic show; funny, intelligent, well acted, and brilliantly written. Directed by the immensely talented Christopher Grabowski, the show starts off with a bang and gets better as the evening progresses. The play is presented in two short acts. The first is a scene on the floor of a restaurant. A particularly nasty couple are having an anniversary dinner, and treating the waitress like garbage in the process. At one point, after a really mean dig at the long suffering waitress (played to perfection by Jane Young), the boorish husband asks, "Is it us?" I wanted to scream out from the audience, "Yes, it is you, you rotten bastard! Leave that poor waitress alone!" Lee Blair and Dana Vance, who play the loveless pair, are fantastic, evoking both anger and pity from the audience with their portrayal of a couple who long ago gave up their humanity for a nice house and a good job. Act Two switches the action to what has been going on in the waiter station in the same time frame as Act One. It is slightly reminiscent of Noises Off in this aspect, and works well. In the waiter station, we see the staff with their "How-may-I-help-you" masks thrown to the floor alongside their aprons—and the fun really begins. I don’t want to give too much away, but the key line in the show for me was, "We’re turning into monsters." Simpatico very believably shows us what evil lurks in the hearts of a waitstaff—with hilarious results. Every actor is wonderful, but I must give extra kudos to William Flately who plays Fang, the smart mouthed waiter who’s seen it all, and Christen Simon who plays the tough waitress Rocky with great energy a power that fills that stage. And Grabowski’s direction is fantastic. There are moments in the play that leap from realism to absurdism, and he handles them perfectly, with the transitions working seamlessly. I could go on and on about Waiter, Waiter!, but I won’t. Go see this show—it is damn funny. |
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NEO/RETRO/WOYZECK by Jeffrey Cassaro |
| Growing up, my parents had friends
that we would go visit; they lived in Northville and had six kids. I
hated going there as their kids were rowdy, never had any toys, and
their home was always a bit confusing to me. The father, I remember, was
an odd, scary man. He would often talk to his kids in a language that I
never understood. I still remember him quipping something in his
gibberish to his pack, something funny that made me laugh, although I
didn’t know what he was saying. Anyway, my trip down to the Cherry Lane Theater this afternoon to see Seven Chances’ Neo/Retro/Woyzeck was kinda the same sort of experience. In sixty minutes (and they set an egg timer in the beginning to prove it), this group of very versatile and very talented actors present twenty plus scenes in the audience’s chosen order. Often using audience members (as oblivious to the story as I), they sing, dance, act, mime and even throw cream pies to execute the writings of an ill, hallucinating author (Georg Buchner, Woyzeck’s playwright). With a stage set of only twenty numbered balloons and a chair, Robert Franklin Neill’s portrayal of Woyzeck and his fellow players, including the very funny Tristan De Boer and Dara Seitzman, are all pinpoint perfect. Perhaps the highlight in this shiny little show is the rap number done by Danielle Quisenberry (BE SURE to yell out "number eighteen" when prompted). She, as well as the rest of the cast, is very good at pulling you onto the stage even if you opt not to get out of your seat to participate. It is an interactive adventure that I will not soon forget! So after the show I called my Mom and laughed about something I otherwise would have forgotten from my childhood. As with my Northville experience, I may not have walked away enlightened but I sure left entertained! |
