nytheatre Archive
FringeNYC 2003
SHOW REVIEWS ON THIS PAGE: Girliemagic, Fallen Patriots, Black To My Roots, 3 Themes Every Child Should Know, Nharcolepsy, The Boy Who Would Be Asian, The Rats Are Getting Bigger, "Buddy" Cianci: The Musical, Southern Gothic Novel, Dear Charlotte, Nosferatu, Drip
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GIRLIEMAGIC by Julie Congress |
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Girliemagic is a series of monologues performed by writer and
magician Maritess Zurbano. Some of these monologues are autobiographical
anecdotes, mainly dealing with her introduction to the world of magic
and her experiences in Las Vegas. In others, Zurbano takes on a
character, in particular a clown, a preacher, and a burlesque style
comedian/magician. Each monologue has at least one magic trick
incorporated into it, varying from sleight-of-hand, performed with
ropes, rings, coins, and balls, to the levitation of objects and people.
Between each of these scenes, Amy Chiang, Johnathon Hanson, Courtney
Sara, and Eduardo Pascual perform inventive, rhythmic dances. While Girliemagic, directed by Cris Buchner and choreographed by Juan Borona, is a noble effort, it isn’t really the right vehicle for Zurbano’s magic—so much time is spent on the monologues, that they end up overshadowing the illusions. This is amplified by the fact that some of the monologues are related to one another while others are completely incongruous. And, as unique and interesting as the dances are, they don’t fit in well with the show’s format, making it seem disjointed. I have to admit I was disappointed that Zurbano felt she and her four dancers all had to be scantily clad. I was hoping that a show performed by one of the world’s very few female professional magicians would help cast off the outdated, clichéd concept that a magic show is incomplete without a "lovely assistant." Maritess Zurbano, know that people come to your show because you are a very talented magician, not because you wear skimpy costumes. You’ve already broken barriers by being a woman in an overwhelmingly male-dominated profession. Now just go that extra distance. You have the opportunity to be a pioneer, a role-model. Now please go for it, if not for yourself, then for this magic-loving seventeen year-old girl. |
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FALLEN PATRIOTS by Liz Kimberlin |
In Fallen Patriots, the audience becomes an
uneasy companion to three very different African American men thrust
into three very different wars. The story is told in triplet scenes with
period background music and slide show images from each era. The
characters are: 1) Horace, a runaway slave in 1864 who winds up as a
Union soldier fighting on the very same plantation he escaped from; 2)
talkaholic Leonard, a schoolteacher who proudly enlists for duty in
World War II in 1943; and 3) Walter, a young man being dragged kicking
and screaming to 1969 Vietnam—and spewing obscenities every step of the
way. All three men are indelibly portrayed by Darian Dauchan, who also wrote the play. The actor Dauchan is quite a charismatic presence: tall, lanky, agile, with limbs that seem to know how to be everywhere and nowhere at once. He is particularly riveting and heart-wrenching as the geeky, but articulate Leonard, who, after witnessing firsthand the aftermath horrors of the Nazi death camps, finds his faith and his sanity slipping out of his grasp. Dauchan is equally adept at playing the soldier who unexpectedly reclaims his humanity amidst gruesome violence and hatred, as well as the soldier who chillingly transforms into a bloodthirsty ghoul bragging over his number of kills (including children) on the frontline. In most scenes, Dauchan talks directly to the audience. The Independent is a very small theatre with approximately 40 seats. Dauchan is able to briefly meet every eye in attendance to very unnerving effect. There is much about this production to compliment. Under Malcolm I. Barrett’s admirable direction, the tiny stage and minimal set pieces are believably transformed into three worlds. The constant clicking of the slide projector is as much a part of the play’s atmosphere as the background sound of the hollow drip-drip-drip at Leonard’s French MASH unit. The slide images are interchangeably joyous, despicable, funny, harrowing. Only two real criticisms. The quality of Dauchan’s playwriting is, in general, excellent, and he does a beautiful job of blending history and fiction. But Fallen Patriots doesn’t really cover new territory or address new issues. At an hour-forty minutes running time (including a welcome ten-minute intermission) the play starts to lose steam towards the end. And as it also then starts to become more of a diatribe than a play, it begins to lose some of its considerable bite. That aside, Fallen Patriots is an experience in theatre you will not forget any time soon. |
| BLACK TO MY ROOTS by Sarah Wolfman-Robichaud |
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Picture a blank stage, a few stools, and a storybook waiting to be read.
Now, add five beautifully alive women, soulful music with the opening
lyrics "Pick your ass up, daddy, ’cause it’s flat on one side," and a
script written by so many creative minds that not only every young black
girl should hear it, but everyone with a "head and a heart." Black to
my Roots weaves a lovely message out of its twelve tales of black
hair (yes, hair). Siblings Tyrone and Reneschia Brown brought this show
into existence after a conversation about how hair is actually a
metaphor for life. After winning well-deserved international awards, New
York should be happy and proud to welcome this show to its stage. Post-thoughts of this performance would not be complete without paying close attention to the strengths and specialties of its actresses. Camille Y. Kennedy opens the show by gracefully pounding into your mind her own story of why she shaved off all her hair and looked at her "face first." Wilna Julmiste and Michelle Robinson both approach the stage with a comfortable apprehension, but soon tell personal tales that seem like they’ve simply invited you over for coffee just to chat. Laura Malone leads the group in sexy song, touching monologues, and the occasional grinding hip that makes you smile. And, resonating into higher decibels than the rest, is the earth mother of the group, Kathya Alexander. Alexander, who wrote many of the pieces in the show, glistens, glows, and flies in her youthful story of learning how to swim, and makes all of us squirm just a bit when "Mama" says that our hair belongs to her. As an ensemble, the women form an untouchable yet familial power. As a new play, Black to my Roots should not be missed. You’ll walk away trying to describe your hair (or yourself) in one word, dancing down the street, and you’ll thank these women, the Browns, and everyone involved for making you realize that every strand of hair on your head is just as important as the next. |
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3 Themes Every Child Should Know: Amortus, Ed R and His Sack of
Beans, & The Fish That Walked Up the Hill and Spilt Milk in His
Pajamas by Jared Robinson |
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After several trips around Our Lady of Pompeii Church—no signage
indicates the path—I find my way to Demo Hall… to see 3
Themes Every Child Should Know…, a versed myth with symbols
and metaphors aplenty. This play has a lot to say, some of which
becomes translucent by the end. I settle into my seat wondering who or what I am about to see. No program is available. With the temperature just high enough to cause me to fan, the show begins. When suddenly arrives an aquatic deity, yearning for the things he cannot have. His makeup is impressive and his acting adds some illumination to the play. About then I begin to wonder, "What is this show saying? But the title should tell me that. Who are these people? But the title should tell me that." The play proceeds to explore the ideas of love and how people look at it and for it. In a bit of burlesque tomfoolery a man confronts his passivity in life with the image of a woman in the oldest profession. Sections of this play are fluid and dynamic. The idea of accepting life as it appears versus wanting a world that is foreign resonates throughout. As a couple takes stock of their relationship, they allow another relationship to be born. After finding my way through the maze of passages in Our Lady of Pompeii, I think it makes sense that this is the play I saw here. 3 Themes is a complex experience requiring some thought to comprehend. Perhaps that is its purpose. |
| NHARCOLEPSY by Jeff Lewonczyk |
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I never dreamed it would be possible to create a beautiful, warm, funny
show about two men dying of hypothermia at the North Pole, but darned if
the comedy duo of Harrington & Kauffman hasn't done it. Their peculiar variation on the age-old template of the two-man comedy team is as bracing and indelible as the Arctic wind in which they perish. Richard Harrington's Gustave—whom we will hesitantly designate the "straight man"—is a stiff, soft-spoken Belgian cabaret singer who narrates the proceedings in a thickly accented deadpan. His partner is Chris Kauffman's Nhar, a sad-faced, rubber-limbed jack-of-all-trades whose voice is so hoarse he might as well be mute. Together, they have spanned the northerly latitudes in order to follow Gustave's childish dream (or, as he says it, "shaldash drim") to meet the Yeti. Gustave reveals early on that due to the intense cold he and Nhar are drifting through the final, hallucinatory stages of their lives, and requests that the audience help them stay alive until the end of the show by pelting them with snowballs (provided upon entrance to the Red Room) whenever they get sleepy. Surprise is the linchpin of comedy, so it would be rude to reveal too many details about their journey. However, audiences can expect: an illustrated lecture on the history of life on earth; several foolish songs, on such subjects as swimming in fjords, accompanied by accordion and zither; world-class silly dancing (choreographed by Abby Bender); an invisible Peugeot; and a number of scene-stealing toys. It is these toys that provide a nifty metaphor for the show: defiantly non-utilitarian, their very frivolity provides deep joy. Directed with an eye for articulate detail by Patricia Buckley, Nharcolepsy delivers more laughs than a rubber igloo (whatever that means). And just as importantly, the show bears itself with grace, perhaps the most important element of successful nonsense. In a festival full of comedians grabbing attention any way they can, Harrington & Kauffman's nimble harmony is a reminder of how deep simplicity can be. |
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THE BOY WHO WOULD BE ASIAN by Stacey Reed |
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The Boy Who Would Be Asian, presented by The Dorky Theater, is
the wacky journey of a Boy who has been shaped by the video games of his
past. From wild fight scenes with "imaginary ninjas" to choreographed
episodes with drug-induced "inner demons," this show is quite a ride.
It begins with a conversation between the Boy (John Chou) and a narrator-type played by Ryan McWilliams. Here, it is revealed that the Boy is on a quest to learn how to make an Asian dish to honor his dead father. He hops a plane to Neo-Shaolin, where he is seated next to Sniper1 (Adam Yorca), who is in search of a Magic Mushroom. They become fast friends despite themselves and set off together. My favorite moment happens on board the flight to Neo-Shaolin, where Marina Libel is stellar as a deadpan flight attendant on a kooky airline. Libel deserves much more stage time than she’s given. Once in Neo-Shaolin, the Boy and Sniper1 meet Bad Guy (Michael Arauz), a good-natured drug dealer who is trying to save enough cash to get back to the States. He is also searching for the Magic Mushroom of Neo-Shaolin and Super Mario Brothers lore. The high points of this production are those involving the ensemble, including many excellently choreographed fight scenes. Another highlight was an entertaining interlude set to Michael Jackson’s "Thriller." I wanted more characterization on stage. Much as the scenes themselves feel repetitive, the characters all seem like identical paper dolls cut out of writer/director Eddie Kim’s journal. Between their musings on drugs and their nostalgia for their video game-ridden pasts, there is not much besides costumes to keep these characters straight. Cheers to costumer Liam O’Rourke for outfitting this cast in a simple, yet inventive fashion. There are few established relationships. Much of the script is delivered in monologue form, and even in scenes involving two or more actors, lines are often delivered directly to the audience. The only solid relationship I witnessed was between Arauz’s character and Girl (Diana Buirski) in a series of flashbacks. In a nutshell, see this show if you were glued to the TV playing video games for a good part of your young adulthood. Ridden with references to Contra, Mortal Kombat and Street Fighter, I think this show has great potential, but it’s not quite there yet. |
| THE RATS ARE GETTING BIGGER by Saviana Stanescu |
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Not many shows can be as revolting yet exciting as The Rats are
Getting Bigger, a play with music by Julia Edwards about guerilla
artists, disturbed lovers, damaged dreams, and a rat revolution in New
York City. One of the first things that struck me as amazing was the team spirit and the commitment of the actors for this two-hour energy-consuming fast-paced Orwellian story. In a New Manhattan of pigeon-free squares, soy-based hot dogs, and graffiti-free walls, rebellious lovers Ernest and Ariana and their friends fight "the man" with guerilla art posters that threaten a Rat Revolution. Out of their wacky imagination, avant-garde anger and juvenile frustration materializes El Raton, a grotesque rat-nosed man, the heir to the Bloomingdale empire, who has serious Freudian problems since his mother abandoned him by flushing him down the toilet. The baby managed to live in the sewers and now it’s the moment for him and his rat army to rise up and take over the city. Ariana is captured and seduced by El Raton, who becomes more and more dangerous, violent, and dictatorial. A counter-revolution is imminent. Ernest (Brian Sgambati), with the help of a funny gay rat in love with a pigeon, plus many other pigeons and roaches, restores the order and regains Ariana’s love. Kevin Townley is excellent as the gay Rat 409, El Raton’s personal assistant who turns against him. Quincy Tyler Bernstine (Ariana) is controlled and charming during the whole show, fleshing out a complex and funny character. Glenn Fleshler (El Raton) creates a credible leader of a totalitarian society and balances appropriately the human and grotesque sides of this monster of the sewers. Tamala Horbianski, Polly Humphreys, Richard Canzano, and Damian Baldet play various human/non-human characters with energy and dedication. The live "garage rock" music by Jay Gogan is powerful and innovative, serving the production extremely well. With songs such as "The First Time I Smelled Your Panties," "You Missed a Spot, Mother Fucker," and "Why Did My Mother Flush Me Down the Toilet," and posters designed by Edward Luce, The Rats are Getting Bigger becomes a strong and disturbing, if sometimes surreal, parable of the dangers of tyranny and the struggle to remain true to one’s self in an alienating world. |
| "BUDDY" CIANCI: THE MUSICAL by Michael Colby Jones |
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Developing a musical is one of the hardest tasks there is in the
world of professional theater. Add in the restrictions of
dealing with a historical tale—albeit recent history—and it gets
even tougher. Bringing all of the elements in line to tell a
piece of history while making it interesting, intriguing, and
even exciting is a true test. "Buddy" Cianci: The Musical
passes. It’s not that there aren’t any glitches, or room for
growth in its young life, but "Buddy" makes the grade on
the most fundamental element of theater, storytelling. With high energy and zeal, this cast brings you into the real world of Providence, Rhode Island, and its whirlwind romance—more accurately, love/hate relationship—with Mayor Buddy Cianci, who had the passion and drive to bring his town from being the "Armpit of New England" to the glistening city we now think of as Providence, Tourist Destination. Even if it meant getting a little dirty to do it. The use of leitmotif and reprise is liberal, but not over the top, and the songs show real promise. Standouts include "The Armpit of New England," "It’s the Money That Counts," and "The Ass You Have to Kiss Today." These songs are the strongest in the show because they combine the process of moving the story forward and giving real insight into the diamond-in-the-rough characters that creators Jonathan Van Gieson (book and lyrics) and Mike Tarantino (music and lyrics) have brought to the page. The entire cast does fine work, each with moments to shine. Loris Diran is fantastic as Freitas, who sings his way to double-crossing Buddy’s "Staff," serving to bring the administration down. With everyone playing multiple roles, it’s easy to lose the lines between them, but here with the help of smooth costume design and changes, and simple but appropriate scenic design, the actors make clear choices that bring each character to life. Under the guiding hand of director Dean Strober, all have clearly worked well together, taking "Buddy" one strong step toward realizing its full potential. |
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SOUTHERN GOTHIC NOVEL by Stan Richardson |
| In a festival rampant with titles
vying to out-sensationalize one another, Southern Gothic Novel
may sound lackluster. But the title Frank Blocker has chosen for his
compelling one-man-show could not be a more apt description of the
enchanting world he creates. The most unusual and delightful aspect of
Blocker’s unusual and delightful 15-character play is his distillation
to its very essence of the Southern Gothic milieu, a genre comparatively
overlooked in the current trend of satirizing this style and that.
Satire, in fact, does not seem to be the prevailing intention here: he
does not make us see the archaic shortcomings, but allows us instead to
fall in love with this melodramatic sensibility. (We are more often
invited to ridicule than we are made to be so affected.) Blocker’s potboiler concerns the kidnapping of Viola Haygood, a histrionic, mysterious, man-crazy young woman in Aberdeen, Mississippi, a town where everyone knows everyone too well yet each citizen manages to maintain a double agency. Among the bizarre bunch are the girl’s sensible and beleaguered mother, Donna Hazler; the owner of Aberdeen’s sole Asian culinary establishment, Mrs. Wong; and a June Bug (not intended as a metaphor). The plot itself could be more cleverly implausible and Blocker and his director, Gabriel Shanks, could have made the performance more physically dynamic, but those the audience will surely forgive. Southern Gothic Novel should not get lost in the FringeNYC shuffle. Largely due to Blocker’s hilariously vivid characterizations, this is a show I endorse without reservations. So make reservations. |
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DEAR CHARLOTTE by Kate Ward |
| The most striking element of Dear
Charlotte, the Powerhouse Theatre Company’s biographical account of
Charlotte Brontė and her family, is the parallel between the literature
of the Brontė sisters and the drama of their own comings of age. Life
was harsh in early nineteenth century England. As playwright Joy Gregory
captivatingly illustrates, these girls were not to the writing life
born. By adolescence, Charlotte, Emily and Anne had lost their mother
and two sisters. They endured the severe schoolhouse cruelty and
discouraged ambition imposed on them by the social order of the day. I
couldn’t help but assume that Jane Eyre was the autobiography
Charlotte Brontė wanted to avoid as I watched her marshal the inner
fortitude necessary to reject the governess’s life awaiting her. Gregory
covers a lot of ground in Dear Charlotte, providing rich context
for the Brontė stories and weaving a compelling narrative in her own
right. Although the play is set in the 1830s, the production exhibits none of the trappings one might associate with a period piece. The set consists of two wooden benches and a beautiful pen and ink backdrop of the English countryside. Molly Dewane’s costumes are simple, versatile dresses suggestive of the time period. The actors provide much of the atmosphere; the ensemble work here is very strong. The entire cast remains onstage throughout the production, changing costume and character in full view of the audience. Scene and mood changes are signaled by representational choreography, to sometimes incongruous, sometimes astonishing effect. One powerful image is that of two boarding school beds, empty after the deaths of Maria and Elizabeth Brontė, being hoisted onto the pall bearing shoulders of the cast. Suddenly we are at a funeral. Kim Weild gives a winning performance as Charlotte. We watch her grow from an earnest, awkward girl with flashes of devilish humor to a woman of piercing intelligence and touching vulnerability. Brian Stanton’s Branwell is tragic as the enthusiastic young brother beaten by his own inability to cope. Amber Skalski’s Emily is wonderfully spirited. The other actors move from character to character with swift versatility. In particular, David LM Mcintyre is hardly recognizable as he transforms from the girls’ stoic father Patrick into Charlotte’s nervous suitor. Anthony Byrnes’s direction brings together the many different elements into an engaging theatrical experience. |
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NOSFERATU by Hope Cartelli |
| Deborah Hertzberg and Cat’s Paw
Collective’s puppet masterpiece Nosferatu is a beautiful mélange
of silent film aesthetics, ingenious use of shadow and projection, and
puppets that is simply riveting. Drawing heavily on the 1922 film, the piece focuses on the newlywed couple Thomas and Ellen and a mysterious count, a.k.a. Nosferatu, who is relocating to their neighborhood. Attention is placed on the action via a tri-part screen which acts as a stage for the puppets and a base for shadow puppets and projected sepia tone inter-title cards. The effect on the audience was one of utter rapture. It was as if the whole house leaned forward in their seats simultaneously to fully take in the experience from this carved-out spot on a sizable stage. Using the center screen as the main playing space, the puppeteers (Tony Chiroldes, Ceili Clemens, Michael Latini, and Russell Tucker) create vignettes full of charm—a farewell kiss between the happy couple—and humor—an army of rats packing up Nosferatu’s house for the big move. The puppets seem to register a whole roster of subtle, fully realized emotions in one gesture, giving many a live actor a run for his/her money. The projections magnificently flesh-out the action, serving as a backdrop for certain scenes (the moving landscape behind Thomas’ train car) and as the main attraction in others (Nosferatu’s blood-ridden boat trip to his new home). The piece achieves a beautiful balance when both the projection screens and the center screen are used, as in a moment of desperation for Thomas upon realizing the true nature of Nosferatu. He tries to stop the projections of the setting sun, hoping to keep the rising moon at bay. In the end, the most amazing accomplishment of the piece is that it takes a well-known story and breaks a viewer’s heart with it anew. The tragedy that befalls the main characters of the story hits hard, resonating as if it were the end of Franco Zefferelli’s Romeo and Juliet or the Kirov’s Swan Lake—no small feat for puppets. I can only hope that a new audience will have the opportunity to see Nosferatu long after its FringeNYC run. |
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DRIP by Saviana Stanescu |
| It was a great pleasure to see
Drip, conceived and created by Attic People, an ensemble founded by
nine performers from five different countries who trained together at
the Ecole Internationale de Theatre Jacques Lecoq in Paris. The
underlying principle in the pedagogy of Jacques Lecoq is the idea of the
poetic body and the belief that everything moves, and everything can be
translated into movement, even inanimate objects like a sugar cube or a
piece of glass. Lecoq created a physical theatrical vocabulary and
movement technique that allows performers to develop their own voice and
theatrical language. Drip is Attic People’s first full-length piece of physical theatre and was developed through a series of improvisation workshops held in Paris in 2002, exploring the ways of combining comic chorus work with storytelling. The result is a hilarious story of a community of people crammed into a block of flats and their everyday routines. The situation is pushed to grotesque extremes as the seven actors portray specific archetypes: the dictatorial leader, the curious and nasty old woman, the frustrated fat girl, the macho no-brain/yes-muscles man, the sexy, fashionable big-breasted lady (the story’s "bad guys"), and the innocent girl and boy falling in love with each other despite the fact they cannot understand each other’s language (the hero/heroine). The "Big Goal" of the Cracker Valley community is to win a competition of water-savings. No sacrifice is too small for achieving this communal golden dream: people stop drinking water and taking showers although the weather is hot, and start spying on each other to see who doesn’t obey the rules. Ben (Max Dana) is the rebel of the block, the water-strike breaker, who cannot give up his very enjoyable baths. He falls in love with Lisa (Tatiana Bogucz), the niece (visiting from Berlin) of the block’s administrator. They engage in a Romeo & Juliet-like relationship, swimming in their love and dreams. It’s amazing what Attic People do with a set consisting of one table that, turned in various positions, becomes a block with chalk-drawn windows, a bathtub, a staircase, etc. Their bodies in movement, the sounds they generate imitating the water or the opening of a door, and the few lines of the narrative, are enough for these masterful performers to create a wacky world and entice us into it. Drip is an imaginative and skillfully interpreted piece of theatre that shouldn’t be missed by any theatergoer fascinated with the power and poetry of the human body in performance. |
