nytheatre Archive
FringeNYC 2003
SHOW REVIEWS ON THIS PAGE: Escape From Pterodactyl Island, Carrot and Stick, Synesthesia, Clever, Ashira 69, In Your Shoes, Trapped, The Feldman Dynamic, Call It Peace, Elephant Titus, A Life In Her Day, Sex Myths
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ESCAPE FROM PTERODACTYL ISLAND by Stan Richardson |
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I have an enormous amount of respect for the actors in this show—on the
opening afternoon of Escape from Pterodactyl Island, the eleven
person ensemble gave a robust performance (much of it in Victorian
attire) in a theatre without air-conditioning, but with remarkably loud
ceiling fans. That their voices and performances carried over this
barrier of white noise is commendable. I also have an enormous amount of
sympathy for the actors in this show— they have been given very little
in the way of interesting things to sing, say, or do. This "monstrous
musical adventure" identifies itself as a spoof of the works of Jules
Verne, but it has neither the bite of satire nor the emulatory attention
to detail necessary for parody. A dramatic formula quickly emerges: a
few minutes of implausible exposition followed by a bland song
(frequently falling outside the singer’s comfortable range) followed by
more dialogue followed by a reprise of said song sung by a different
character with a different intention but virtually identical lyrics. The
direction, most of which seemed to be blocking, and the choreography,
most of which also seemed to be blocking, does not illuminate or confer
any sort of sensibility needed to engage an audience. Nonetheless, there were enjoyable aspects. Tim Jerome, a distinguished actor of stage and film, brings emotion, nuance, style, and humor to his portrayal of Dr. Devo, the mad scientist. "The Sacrifice" gives Jessica Morris, as a tribal high priestess, the opportunity to show off her powerful Yma Sumac-size range, and Joey Sorge (a scientist) and Catherine Carpenter (a native) take advantage of their most interesting material as he gives her a rapturous English lesson. |
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CARROT AND STICK by Richard Hinojosa |
"A vaudevillian romp" is the hook line for
Carrot and Stick. I have to admit when it comes to vaudeville I
prefer it in the form of a cartoon, and the term "romp" only makes me
think of bad teenage panty movies like Porky’s. But to my great pleasure
Carrot and Stick is an outrageously entertaining comedy. It nails
the two birds of smart and ridiculous with one stone, right between the
eyes. The cast is excellent! I find it difficult to single out individuals because the producing company, Suburban Vampire Productions, is most obviously a collaboration of exceptionally creative forces. But here goes. Our main character Conrad, played with tremendously sweaty energy by writer/actor Chris Alonzo, is trying to get across town to meet his girlfriend for a date. On the way he meets a burglar (Eric Alan Scott) who teaches him the "burglar code of ethics" through a clever song. Scott is a funny, physical actor with a powerful voice. Together they meet Ms. Kitzler (Juliet Schaefer-Jeske), a washed-up celebrity turned alcoholic. Schaefer-Jeske creates a brilliant character who embodies the very definition of kitsch. Conrad finally escapes these two, only to be run down by Courtney (Bina Chauhan). How shall I put this… Chauhan’s performance is so hilarious, so uproarious, that when her scene was over I wanted to stand up and beg her to do it again. If only there was a rewind button for live theater. Finally, Conrad meets Eddie (Jeremiah!), who is a dead comedian complete with dead jokes. Jeremiah! crafts a unique and funny character out of what I thought to be the weakest part of the script. I love a strange story but not all of this script worked for me. The middle was great! The ending I didn’t care for. It wasn’t funny and was anti-climactic. I am familiar with Alonzo’s work. He is a writer of uncommon genius. This one just needs a little work. I read in the press release that he is from Austin, Texas. They must put something in the water down there because every artist I’ve met from there is amazingly talented. I would like to see two things happen to this show: 1) live music instead of the often too loud canned music, and 2) packed houses for as long as these extremely gifted performers care to run this downright entertaining show. |
| SYNESTHESIA by Julie Blumenthal |
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While bolstered by a pair of strong performances and some fascinating
ideas, Synesthesia, despite its title, fails to come together.
In playwright Lance Tait's mystery, a female academic and a male detective debate love, passion and music theory in an interrogation regarding a mysterious pair of murders. In a classic game of cat and mouse, the investigator leads the seemingly distant and uninterested professor through a maze of possible motives, gradually revealing both her inner passions and the mystery's solution. The interrogation grounds itself in the concept of synesthesia, the idea of "sensory fusion" that brought forth many of the formal musical breakthroughs, including Wagner's Gesamtkunstwerk, or "total artwork", of the 19th and 20th centuries. What could be the connection between these murders and this theory? Unfortunately, this highly compelling premise goes largely unfulfilled. Tait, who also directed, has woven a potentially complex tale of passion, theory and art; but both his text and his direction suffer from a lack of clarity. Despite committed performances from Stephanie Campion as the academic and Damian Corcoran as the investigator, Tait fails to tie together the numerous rich concepts and insights he introduces. The intriguing notions are many: the links between music and madness; the effects of music on the human soul; the idea of human experience as a necessary part of artistic composition. However, these concepts are introduced and then left unexplored in favor of a storyline which, compared to these rich ideas, feels unrewarding. In the same vein, directorial choices leave the dynamic potential for tension and character development under-examined. As a result, the twists of the story, and its successive revelations, feel both unjustified and anticlimactic. Tait clearly has a strong sense of suspense, a penchant for exciting ideas and a high regard for the extraordinary powers of music. With some tightening and clarification, Synesthesia would be an excellent forum for all three. |
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CLEVER by Gyda Arber |
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Clever begins with two men, Stanley (Richard Lovejoy) and
Oliver (David Bartlett), on stage, trying to work but getting
nothing done while they wait for a message from a strange
telegraph-like machine. When the message finally comes, it says
"Keep up the Good Work," yet the two have accomplished nothing
except for playacting the success their finished work may bring.
Though Stanley and Oliver refer to themselves as "clever," it
appears doubtful that they will ever complete anything. Into
this scenario enters Mr. France (Ian Schoen), who, while the two
sleep, cuts the telegraph wire and leaves. When the two awaken
to find the wire has been cut, a fight ensues, interrupted by
the re-appearance of Mr. France accompanied by Mr. London
(Fletcher Liegerot). They proceed to put on a play for Stanley
and Oliver, in which they reenact the opening scene of the show,
Mr. London portraying Oliver and Mr. France portraying Stanley.
Though the play is clearly designed to be funny, the laughs don’t really begin in earnest until the appearance of Messrs. London and France. Unfortunately, director/playwright Eric Meyer has made the opening sequence nearly twice as long as the rest of the play, forcing the audience to sit through a mildly amusing sequence while waiting for the interesting stuff to begin. When the play ended, I felt disappointed that the London/France sequence was so short, especially after the Oliver/Stanley sequence seemed so long. The cast acquit themselves well; Liegerot stands out in his small role, and Bartlett’s intense commitment to playing rock-paper-scissors with himself is the funniest thing I’ve seen on stage in a long time. Though Meyer seems to be making a statement about acting in relation to life, with two sets of actors playing characters who play other characters, I was unable to deduce his message from one viewing. The Waiting for Godot overtones were clear, but in the words of Oliver, viewing the play within the play, "What’s the point?" |
| ASHIRA 69 (EPISODE ONE: CULT TO THE CHASE) by Robert Kent |
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Who is Ashira? She's a mega-babe with "superhuman strength, speed,
agility," a wild Afro, and really cool go-go boots. In other words,
Ashira is Wonder Woman, Xena, Foxy Brown, and each of the Powerpuff
Girls combined into one kick-ass superhero. She's also the star of her
own hilarious live-action serial, Ashira 69. As part of FringeNYC,
the Ashira 69 series opener, "Episode #1: Cult to the Chase," is
currently running at the aptly named Play Room. Portrayed by the dynamic Damaris Webb, Ashira is the quintessential modern-day comic-book heroine. She has "faith in the goodness of others," a totally groovy theme song (written by Nathan Caswell), and a staunch determination to rid the world of evils ranging from murder to the tyranny of long-distance calling plans. Ashira's adversaries include Freezia Sleet, a cold-hearted Canadian with the ability to freeze foes; international assassin (and party planner) Alley Class and her computer savvy assistant Emmanuelle Doux; The Needa Suprema, a power-hungry showgirl; and Candace Cain, a "disarmingly charming" pop-star hell-bent on world domination. Four appealing, versatile actresses—Courtney Cunningham, Chris Caswell, Katie Zeiner, and Webb—play these women and other colorful characters with flair. Caswell, as Class, is particularly skilled at embodying the archetypal cartoon villainess. Spiritedly directed by Tina Polzin and nicely narrated by Fiona Jones, the book—written by Paul Sapp in collaboration with the cast—has its strengths and weaknesses. Ashira 69 is sassy, yet unnecessarily formulaic. This extended, good-versus-evil sketch follows the waitress-turned-superhero Ashira from a truck-stop diner in Las Vegas (a.k.a. the Flatlands) to a steel citadel in Megalopolis where she must battle against injustice using beauty, brawn—and a razor-sharp machete. Overall, the production is a playful, all-girl romp. But for Ashira 69 to truly soar, its direction needs to be tightened, and its G-rated humor should be spiced up with some sexual innuendo or juicy political barbs. With a few clever tweaks to its script and staging, Ashira 69 could reach new audiences—and new heights. Battle on, Ashira! |
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IN YOUR SHOES by Dan Asher |
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Attention: actresses, actors, writers interested in creating, or
performing a one person show, or for that matter, anyone else with 15
dollars and 75 minutes to spare: go and see In your Shoes,
written/performed by Nadia Bowers. It is the first production from Dead
Umbrella in association with Cheryl Dennis, having its FringeNYC 2003
run at the cozy Westbeth Community Center. At lights up, an attractive actress in just a slip and red boots sits on the edge of a bathtub and starts to tell us about madness. This is usually enough to start my "bad theatre collision sirens" to blare. How wrong I was. The actress’s name is Margo. Margo plans to follow in the wet footprints of her idol, Virginia Lovejoy, a schizophrenic ’70s folksinger, who committed suicide by drowning herself in a similar tub… Or did she? What actually happened that fateful night? What will happen to Margo on this one? You will not find out in this review. You should see the show, and decide for yourself. To help shed some light, Bowers conjures up seven different characters, all of whom had a relationship with Virginia at some stage of her short, flaming hot, tragic life. Virginia has touched them all in such a way so that each questions or confirms the validity of the coroner’s conclusion. (i.e., "Only Virginia could have taken her own life, everybody else wanted her around"). Bowers’ character work is magnificent. Each character is brilliantly constructed and executed. However, the writing is the key element that makes this piece special. Each anecdote is neatly composed, funny, and laced with the beautiful thoughts, dreams, sadness and joy that these people feel when recalling Virginia. The stories are told interview style, and the transitions from one character to the next are accompanied by an audio/visual "dream sequence"- type program, which has been very well put together by Lisa Tarchak, Patricia Fox, and Tal Yarden, They are a little lengthy, but they’re relevant and serve the piece well. A clever, potent soundtrack also plays (compiled by Bowers). During these transitions you get the privilege of watching Bowers put on the wig or other prop the next character will wear, and a nice feeling inside that you are about to be entertained some more. |
| TRAPPED by Sarah Wolfman-Robichaud |
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A young girl runs up and down a hallway, screaming, knocking, pounding,
and begging to get into many doors, all of which contain something
unique, grotesque, fantastical, or even beautiful within. A heartbeat of
music streams out so loudly from the speakers that, as an audience
member, it’s difficult to distinguish if the rhythm is in your head,
part of the piece, or even exists. In a film, the graceful body of the
girl levitates from shot to shot on a white canvas and then one of the
doors opens… These are just some of the images racing through your head after seeing Trapped, conceived, directed, and performed by the amazing Ksenia Vidyaykina. There’s just so much to take in. How is it possible that on a clear stage, with only a white canvas backdrop, a red scarf hanging from above, and simple music, that a dancer/performer can fill up a space so entirely? Ksenia does. Simply put: Ksenia knows exactly what she’s doing. The fact that this entire piece (costumes, music, video, set, direction, etc.) was created and woven out of the mind of one person leaves the audience without any room for doubt that this is a complete performance. Nothing could be added, and nothing could be changed. It’s borderline perfection. Ksenia offers a new way to look at pre-existing elements of your world, as she portrays a stripper who removes too much, a mermaid who cuts through to the essentials of who she is, a singer who transcends the song, a black widow who begs for sustenance….and all of them seen through the eyes of a young girl. See this show. Put yourself in Ksenia’s world for an hour, and then try to see things the way you used to: it may be hard to turn back. You are trapped. |
| THE FELDMAN DYNAMIC by Julie Blumenthal |
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A family—a real one—eats a meal—a real one—in front of you. That's
it. Yet the phenomena caused in my brain by being assigned
The Feldman Dynamic made me wonder: was it even necessary to
see the show in order to review it? It seemed such a
sociological exercise that actually watching it happen was
beside the point. But just as I said to a friend who wailed,
"It's been DONE!" to my mention of this and other
Happenings-cum-reality-TV-shows happening in various spots this
year: You had to be there. So how do you review such a show? Like life, watching the Feldmans was alternately discomfiting, utterly boring, pointlessly funny, comfortingly familiar, strangely moving. I was put off by a few moments that felt artificial, disappointed because I wasn't seeing the real, unvarnished Feldmans; imagining a pre-show discussion: "Be sure to mention (X). And we should fight, because that's dramatic." And then I had to admit: what's more real than that? We are endlessly worrying about how people see us, choosing how we portray ourselves. Even the moments that felt "stagey" were, I realized, as truthful as anything else. Put a person in front of a group of people and they will either shy away, or perform; such are the social animals we are. Any actor will tell you most acting training is "un"-training, and theater is, strangely, more "real" than reality. How often in daily life do we see the depths and heights we see on stage? Isn't that why we go to the theater? Of course I wanted to feel as if I were a fly on a wall, instead of in a theater, watching the Feldmans perform themselves for me. Did I, voyeuristically, long to see them emotionally naked? Sure. Would that have been real, for that to occur here? No way. In the end, all I can say is: Was it theater? No. Did it feel real? Yes. As one of my companions aptly put it: "It's also the Audience Dynamic." The most interesting show taking place here is the one your own brain puts on, placed in this simultaneously most odd and most mundane of situations. You may learn more about yourself, and about people in general, than you will about the Feldmans. If you want to get "the inside story", watch so-called reality TV. But if you want to be reminded of the dance of veils involved in being humans in front of each other, see The Feldman Dynamic. |
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CALL IT PEACE: MEDITATIONS FROM NORTH AMERICA by Terri Galvin |
| One warning to those who prefer their
theatre light and entertaining as opposed to raw and provocative:
Call It Peace will seriously challenge your comfort zones. At the opening of Anthony Pennino's intense drama, Rich, an American website journalist, is roughly shoved into a squalid Philippine prison cell already occupied by Cal, a Canadian teenage backpacker. Each has been (separately) abducted by anti-American terrorists, and their attempts to cope with the ensuing beatings and privations include half-hearted reassurances, memories of their pasts, (notably, staged flashbacks of Rich's former girlfriend, Abby), and dialogue certain to jolt most Americans even further out of their pre-September 11th complacency. One casual exchange about fast food and pop divas, for example, concludes with Cal's searing assertion (seemingly inevitable by now) that America's global irresponsibility is "why they steal your planes and fly into your towers." With the audible gasp and odd wince from the audience comes the grudging acknowledgement that had Cal appeared more obviously "Canadian" (read: NOT American), he'd now be reunited with the parents who are currently pleading on television for his safe release. This intersection of the political with the personal is where Pennino is most compelling, raising questions vaguely disconcerting and potentially devastating: Are we morally responsible for our government's international policies? Do status and possessions define identity? Can suffering, even in the form of unspeakable human brutality, lead to transcendence? Yet when the dialogue grows extravagant and overly ambitious, invoking everything from Buddhism to Joan of Arc, audience and actors alike grow disconnected from the material. The young, competent cast understandably grapples with these dense, esoteric passages, and Matthew Freeman's occasionally static direction doesn't always enhance the play's episodic structure. As Rich deteriorates before our eyes, we crave not theoretical debate, but concrete hope that suffering this extreme—and arbitrary—might be dignified with meaning. What little comfort Pennino offers, however, is neither spiritual nor emotional but narrative. "Rich, tell me a story," Cal pleads when his pain is unbearable, and as the reminiscences decline into semi-coherent hallucinations, Rich discovers the sole redemptive path. Ultimately, he alone, not his captors nor "visions," will write the final scene of his life, and no matter how uneasy that makes us, we are grateful to Pennino for granting him that option. |
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ELEPHANT TITUS by Chad Gracia |
| Elephant Titus is a reduced and
warped retelling of Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus. In this
adaptation, our hero returns from war with lymphatic filariasis (aka
elephantiasis), which has caused his genitals to become horribly
inflamed (these elements of the disease are thankfully left to our
imagination). Thus, he is quarantined by the Emperor Saturninus. A plot
is hatched between Saturninus’ lover Tamora and the Porter to rape and
mutilate Titus’ daughter. In return, Mr. Andronicus concocts his
gruesome revenge, a la Shakespeare. David Lavine’s script contains some interesting monologues, funny one liners, lots of puns, and a pair of disembodied voices that comment on the action from somewhere in the back of the house. The production also presents dream sequences composed of absurdist dance numbers (Titus in top hat) and projected video of the worms that cause elephantiasis. John Paul Skocik’s Porter has some humorous moments, as does the schoolgirl Lavinia (Sandra Toll) and the slinky Tamora (Laura Poe). My favorite performances were the Whispering Man (Mark Flores) and Whispering Woman (Rachel Lederman), who provide funny commentary on the dark events of the play. If you want to learn more about lymphatic filariasis or enjoy macabre and spare riffs on Shakespearean tragedies, then this play is for you. If you’re like me, however, you’ll probably just be confused. There is little drama and the theme is muddled. Extraneous material (such as the video projections and the whispering couple) could have aided the story, but instead they detract from it. It’s hard to see what—besides the pun in the title and the obvious opportunities for low humor—inspired Lavine to link Titus Andronicus and a disease that inflames the glands. |
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A LIFE IN HER DAY by Saviana Stanescu |
| Physical comedienne Hilary Chaplain
has worked as both an actress and a clown since the mid 1980s,
performing her original solo and group work in the U.S., Canada, and
Europe. An original mixture of Charlie Chaplin, Lucille Ball, Barbra
Streisand and Giulietta Massina, this warm and witty performer is
attractive yet funny through her spontaneous attitudes and intelligent
dramatic gestures. The humor of A Life in Her Day—written and performed by Chaplain, directed by Patricia Buckley—can paradoxically be found in the bitterness of the everyday life of an ordinary Jewish woman. A story of loneliness, violence, domestic betrayal and abuse is told in a delightfully light and clever way, with the help of a vertical bed, a gravity-defying nightstand, a glued chocolate box in the shape of a red heart, a stuffed pet, a breakfast table, a bowl of marshmallows, two pink cakes, a roll of paper towels and a dummy-man. It’s amazing how suggestively these very few objects are used in the performance space (Under St. Marks) and how they are able to communicate a variety of meanings according to the artist’s intentions. For instance the paper towels ingeniously serve to build props such as: three sets of twin babies, a blanket, three breasts, a wedding veil, a ceremony carpet, etc. It’s the humor of the recognizable small gestures, the external laughter, and the inner sob triggered by sad common situations presented in a funny way that give A Life in Her Day its particular strength: it’s actually the human tragedy hidden inside comedy wrappings. Chaplain’s character interacts with the audience (for example she gives her paper towel "babies" to a spectator to baby-sit them), reacts spontaneously to their responses, and skillfully attracts them into the game, making them part of the piece. I strongly recommend that everyone go and see Hilary Chaplain’s one-woman-and-a-few-props-show, this wonderful wacky and quirky story of you, or of your cousin, your aunt, your girlfriend, your ex-wife, your mother, your neighbor… |
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SEX MYTHS! by Soline McLain |
| In most renditions of Greek myths, the
gods are portrayed as grand and untouchable. However, audiences get a
"look behind the scenes" with Sex Myths! The whole cast of Mount
Olympus is present, and they are in rare form. As the lights come up,
Zeus is golfing and his daughter Athena is arm-wrestling one of her
fellow immortals. An argument (which seems to occur a lot with these Greek deities) quickly ensues between Athena (the goddess of war and wisdom) who claims that pride is the strongest force in the world, and Aphrodite (the goddess of love) who claims that love is the strongest force. Always eager for a bit of fun, Zeus declares a contest, the winner of which will receive an extraordinary, hand-crafted apple. Zeus will use "unbiased mortals" to determine the winner. Although the gods are not supposed to interfere, Athena and Aphrodite both employ disguise and intrigue to prove their points. During all of this, up on Mount Olympus most of the gods are engaging in various sexual affairs with each other and with various unsuspecting mortals. Hence the title, Sex Myths! While the show did seem a bit rough with a few technical difficulties and forgotten lines, it was opening night, and the show was still great fun to watch. Ed McFalls’ script is amusing as it brings the literary Greek myths to an "everyday" level. For instance, rather than using lightning bolts, Zeus walks around with a golf club, and he drinks beer. Throughout the play, McFalls’ portrayal of each god’s idiosyncrasies is quite brilliant… and very funny. Director Victoria King has a nice ensemble cast with which to work. As Hera, Carolyn Castiglia is a real stand-out, for she brings such life and energy to her character. With her, there is never a dull moment, especially when she is onstage bantering with her husband Zeus, also very well-played by Josh Iacovelli, about his various lovers. For a very funny romp with the gods and goddesses of Greek fame, you don’t have to travel to the ends of the earth like the mythological Greek heroes did…just to the Wollman Lounge! |
