2008 New York International Fringe Festival Reviews

Salt Lake, a New Ballet in 3 Acts

reviewed by Debbie Hoodiman Beaudin

Aug 21, 2008

I like watching movement-based theatre. I like watching theatre that is less narrative and more physical, more expressive. I like watching a play and—instead of trying to put it together into a neat, coherent story—enjoying the meaning in a more visceral way. Salt Lake the Ballet, conceived and choreographed by Vicky Virgin, is perfect for having the kind of experience I describe above.

The play is broken into three acts, all centered around a character named Fleur de Sel/Vicky Virgin and her worship of salt. Virgin begins the show by getting the audience involved, surveying them about their use of salt ("Does anyone here put salt on grapefruit? It's delicious.") and begins the first dance to "Whole Lotta Love" by Led Zeppelin. As she pours the salt, rolls in the salt, licks the salt, spills the salt, both she and the stage become covered in the salt. After the Led Zeppelin song ends, an actress, Dawn Timm, pours water between two glasses in front of a mic so that the second "musical" accompaniment is the sound of that water. Timm assists Virgin later in the play as an interrogator, and there, her detached, monotone voice gives the scene an appropriately cold feeling.

Virgin also adds a text in order to transition between acts, a short poem in which she speaks of her love being beyond cure. The piece is pretty abstract, but the text does give the audience a bit of a hint of what it's all "about." She later uses text again in the interrogation mentioned above and in the end of the play in a monologue/poem about being "past cure" and comparing herself to cured meat, olives, cheese, all the foods that are cured by salt.

In Acts Two and Three, Virgin is joined on stage by three Salt Nymphs, three ballet dancers, Sarah Godbehere, Rie Ogura, and Mayuna Shimizu. With the entrance of the dancers, the show becomes more of what I (though not particularly experienced in ballet) expected to see in a ballet. The dancers' movements seem more classical than Virgin's, which seem modern. They dance solo and together, sometimes on the floor, sometimes spilling salt from different containers. By then end of the show, the dancers and Virgin are coated with salt.

Fritz Masten's costumes—corsets, tulle skirts, and white headpieces—create beautiful and creature-like characters for the salt nymphs. His white suit and lavender tie for Timm makes her character seem unemotional (appropriately), and the white sunglasses added humor. Virgin's yellow raincoat and lavender leotard/bathing suit seems appropriately sexy.

In Acts Two and Three, I enjoyed the music by Jelloslave and Jason Crigler, especially the sound of strings, pulling and pulling, changing tempo, complementing the movement of the dancers as they interact with the salt and with one another. It is also worth noting that the salt, when poured in the dim lights, designed by Susan Hamburger, can create a strip of white which looks pretty beautiful.

The show's climax has Virgin completely bathed/baptized in the salt with the three salt nymphs helping. Then—using the effect of video by Trent Harris—she disappears into a lake (Salt Lake, I assume), which has been on the screen the entire show, serving as a backdrop.

The risk of doing a ballet like Salt Lake is that it is so atypical that audience members may not be willing to go on the journey the ballet asks us to take. I do not think the show is for all audiences. (I'm not even sure whether it is "for" me.) I do know that I enjoyed the process of watching it and the challenge of making connections to what I was watching. Maybe that's enough.

Written/created by: Vicky Virgin
Directed by Umit Celebi
Presented by Virgin Dance

Parental Indescretions

reviewed by Lucile Scott

Aug 21, 2008

Parental Indiscretions is driven by the polished and tight performances of Steve Hayes as Brett O'Brady and Tom Cayler as Bart O'Brady—the duo also wrote the show—playing two brothers unraveling their sordid family secrets as their father lays dying in the ICU in this comedic two-man show. Yes, it is a pure comedy that takes place next to their father's deathbed. The show does not strive to hit any dramatic moments. It's all about the laughs, though it does have something to say about sexuality, family, and the almost cruel indifference that can come from growing up in a family with far more secrets than love.

In the show, Brett, who fled his small town when he was outed as gay his senior year in high school, has returned home after receiving a mysterious telegram informing him that his father is dying. There he runs into his brother, Bart, his straight twin who married his high school sweetheart and took over the family business and with whom he rarely speaks. Over the course of the show the two increasingly connect as they deal with the pesky town folk, played hilariously and with impressive physicality by Hayes, and their relatives, played by them both, and bond by singing old show tunes and TV lead-ins.

The set consists of two stools and the show depends entirely on the actors' presence and chemistry as they wittily banter back and forth. The secrets they discover are quite extreme and seem like a farcical parody of a play in which people uncover family secrets. But while the show seemingly wants to make points about the fact that it can be hard for a family to have gay members and that more people are gay than may admit it, it doesn't quite hit the mark. It is not quite sharp enough to function effectively as satire or farce and does not give anyone enough real emotions to let us connect with the characters or feel invested in what happens to them or in what happened in their pasts. However, the show is funny. The acting is strong. And the crowd was laughing and clapping and loving the campy song and dance numbers and the jokes.

Written/created by Steve Hayes & Tom Cayler

Missing Man

reviewed by Peter Schuyler

Aug 20, 2008

[Taken from the press materials]: In May 2001, Chicago writer/actress/educator/mom Mary Scruggs decided to join over 300 motorcycle enthusiasts on the "Run for the Wall"—an annual cross-country pilgrimage to commemorate the dead and missing soldiers of the Vietnam War.

I don't normally go in for one-person shows. I find them by turns narcissistic, banal, and altogether not my theatrical cup of tea. Autobiographical one-person shows I find even more grating. I have my own life to live, why would I want to spend an hour listening to yours? How does the performer expect an audience member to believe that their story is new and fresh every night? Where does the line between anecdote end and self-flagellation begin? So I go into the theatre with an attitude that screams: "Entertain me. I DARE you."

Mary Scruggs did better than that, she shared with me. I felt less like I was watching a performance and more like I was visiting a friend after she had just returned from a long vacation. She has an ebullient, charming air, and is genuinely pretty damn funny. Her tale, however, is not. Scruggs has a lot to tell us, and the majority of it is not light and airy. The people she met on the trip are largely damaged, veterans of a war that America would rather forget. The loss these men feel is retold palpably by Scruggs, but the focus is most definitely on her. She went on the ride in a very turbulent time in her life and some of the most heartbreaking moments have little or nothing to do with being on the road.

Edward Thomas-Herrera's direction is very hands-off, or it gives the impression of being so. He is wise enough to recognize Scruggs's natural storytelling talent and spares us the bells, whistles and (most mercifully) the impersonations. Boaz Reisman's sound design doesn't overpower the action, but it can be jarring, especially after moments when the atmosphere has become very still.

Being the son of a Vietnam vet I may be an easy target for this show, but I don't think so. This is an honest, human account of a woman's life and frankly there is something here for everyone. In light of the war our country is currently embroiled in, it's very important that we remember that the soldiers who come home need as much support as those still in the field. Do yourself a favor. Go see Mary.

Written/created by: Mary Scruggs
Directed by Edward Thomas-Herrera
Presented by Mary Scruggs

The 70% Club

reviewed by Michael Mraz

Aug 21, 2008

No one could deny that keeping marriages together, or relationships in general, is one of the biggest problems plaguing our society. In the past few decades, a growing sense of independence in both males and females has made some marriages seem rushed and the breakneck pace of our world makes it harder to nurture growing or even well-established relationships than it was in the earlier half of the 20th century. And, at its heart, it is this issue that Mary McCallum's new play, The 70% Club, tries to tackle.

The 70% Club more specifically focuses on the forces tearing apart black marriages (the title is based on a statistic reported that 70% of black women live alone). These challenges are manifested by the trials Deanna and Jackson face in the days before their wedding and expand through their circle of friends. Though nothing seems amiss at the start, things start to unravel as Jackson is revealed to be having an affair with Deanna's maid-of-honor, Annete, and Jackson's best friend, James, confesses his long-standing love for Deanna and has been waiting for Jackson to slip up so he can have his shot. Even before the affair is revealed, Deanna's mother seems to disapprove of Jackson.

The increasingly unhappy would-be marriage is juxtaposed against the failed marriage of their friends, Chris and Cynthia. Chris feels marriage is tying him down and Cynthia, pregnant with a third child, is trying to hold on for dear life. The play begs the question: with all of these external pressures and evidence of once-good relationships gone bad, can any budding relationship survive in the 21st century or are women destined to join the 70% club?

While the question being asked is very worthwhile, it is sometimes obscured by the execution of the show. McCallum's script feels a bit overwritten at certain points. There are a few characters—including a random family member and one of Deanna's friends, Melissa—who don't really add much to the story that couldn't have been fleshed out in other characters.

The comic relief of the show seems to come at inopportune times, almost shying away from being too dramatic. However, most moments with Deanna's mother (a hilariously wise, if a bit too young-looking, Jene India) and gay best friend (well-timed and spontaneous Rashad Rayford) hit the right spot.

There's a little too much of characters saying exactly what they're thinking, instead of themes being instilled within the action. An exception to this is the relationship of Chris and Cynthia, which is beautifully and believably written and portrayed spot-on by Shawn Whitsell and Tamiko Robinson. Whitsell revels in Chris's need for independence but manages to sneak in the right amount of hidden love for Cynthia. Robinson's brilliantly depicted Cynthia is a whirlwind of emotion and near-breakdown, holding on to the last strand of her sanity for her best friend's sake.

John Wiggins's direction is also confusing at times, as some characters stay completely within the world of the play, while others seem to drop the fourth wall and literally wink at the audience. The big moments of tension need higher stakes (rarely did one feel any real fear of a fight between two characters in heated conflict). However, he has constructed a hilarious, engrossing bachelorette party from beginning to end.

Despite its flaws, The 70% Club, is sprinkled with very good performances and some touching, relevant scenes that can speak to any watcher's fears about commitment to another person. It also has the great sense to leave the audience to decide whether being part of the 70% club is really all that bad of a thing.

Written/created by: Mary McCallum
Directed by John Wiggins
Presented by Sista Style Productions

Schoenberg

reviewed by Martin Denton

Aug 21, 2008

I expected a show entitled Schoenberg to offer some interesting enlightenment about the man who (as the play itself has it) was the most influential composer of the 20th century.

I also expected that a show from Theatre Rhinoceros—a San Francisco-based company that describes itself as "the nation's longest-running queer theatre [that] develops and produces works that enlighten, enrich, and explore both the ordinary and the extraordinary aspects of our queer community"—to have some gay themes or content in it. Schoenberg does not; how it satisfies the company's stated mission is a mystery, as is the reason that they selected this, out of all their recent works, to import to New York for FringeNYC.

We do get a few glimpses into Arnold Schoenberg's musical genius and contributions here, as well as a few samples (mostly snippets, from recordings; definitely leaving me wanting more). But most of the insight John Fisher's play provides about its eponymous leading character has to do with subjects other than music: war, psychology, theology, and the trivialities of Hollywood pop culture are the main topics of banter (if you can call it that) between Schoenberg and Oscar Levant, the play's other character. Levant, famous more for being a radio personality and raconteur than for being a serious musician, wants to learn composition from Schoenberg. (This apparently actually happened.) But whatever important lessons Levant may have gleaned from the master are mostly absent from this very brief, very disappointing play. And although flirtation is alluded to in the early moments of the piece, thee men are presented as resolutely asexual (in the case of Schoenberg) and heterosexual (in the case of Levant).

Playwright Fisher portrays Schoenberg and is also the director; his staging is bland and feels stretched out, with long transitions between scenes that aren't justified dramatically and that aren't necessary to cover set or costume changes. Matt Weiner plays Levant. Neither man feels convincing in his role, and the age difference (Levant was nearly 30 years younger than Schoenberg) is not communicated at all.

Interludes between scenes feature video by Chris U'rem and Gene Mocsy and music (presumably Schoenberg's). The last sequence was especially problematic: stills of concentration camp victims, bodies piled up ready for mass burial, are accompanied by the disturbing dissonant music that is Schoenberg's signature. But the expressionism I heard did not amplify or comment on the grim reality I saw: if anything, both felt diminished by their awkward juxtaposition.

Schoenberg (billed as 90 minutes in the FringeNYC program guide and 60 minutes in its own program, but in fact less than 50 minutes long when I saw it) is perhaps as slight a work of theatre as its possible to make about two larger-than-life musical geniuses of such different stripe.

Written/created by: John Fisher
Directed by John Fisher
Presented by Theatre Rhinoceros

Dingbat

reviewed by Richard Hinojosa

Aug 21, 2008

Dingbat is a funny, quirky, and utterly entertaining show. The one thing I would say to writer/performer Nancy Friedrich is more, more, more! The show is 45 minutes long but I was so into the performance that it felt like maybe 20 minutes had gone by when the final blackout came.

Friedrich plays several different characters, all of whom are rather odd in a down-home sort of way. Her main character, Claudia, is a nerdy girl with a love for the word "douche-bag." She meets a punk rock boy named Richie who happens to love the word douche-bag as well, and so they get married and move away from New York City to a small town in South Dakota where Richie is promptly eaten by a bear. After his death—and they'd only been there one day—she becomes depressed and this causes the return of her childhood imaginary friend, Dingbat.

Dingbat is a piece of looped and knotted rope with cow bells tied to it. They catch up on all the wonderful places Dingbat has been to—China, Antarctica, Denver—and they watch lots and lots of TV together. Her neighbor Louise comes over with a condolence lasagna and a welcoming casserole. The elderly matron, Ms Debbie, also comes over and offers her sympathies and welcome by doing a slow, arthritic song and dance number. In between each segment in the show there is a narrator, heard over the PA, telling us about Claudia's life and who she is about to meet.

Later in the show, Claudia throws a hilarious party with Louise, Ms Debbie and Dingbat. They decide they should each have an imaginary friend and their imaginary friends should have large penises. Ms Debbie says, "Not too big, mind you, just big enough to keep me coming back for more." Claudia throws the party because an access TV dream expert tells her to after she describes her dream in which she is trapped with some of the girls from Sex and the City, The Facts of Life, and The Golden Girls and is unable to speak.

Friedrich is a master of her characters. She is extremely animated and her timing is impeccable. She creates some hilarious moments with just a look or a gesture. She finds physical qualities for each person and exploits them to the fullest. The story isn't really compelling and I don't think Friedrich intends it to be. It is not about her relationship with Dingbat either. No, it's just a slice of a strange world that is easy to get caught up in. Noah Gregoropolous does a great job with the voiceover as the narrator. He adds a warm, fuzziness to the show. I hope Friedrich decides to expand the show because I could have sat through another 45 minutes.

Friedrich and her director, James Whittington, have an enormously entertaining show that is well worth a look before this year's FringeNYC comes to an end.

Written/created by: Nancy Friedrich with Artistic Collaboractionby James Whittington
Directed by James Whittington
Presented by Dingbat

Wildboy '74

reviewed by Amber Gallery

Aug 21, 2008

Everything about Wildboy '74 works. One would not have had to read any history on the play to know that it has been helmed more than once with the same core team of talented artists. Under the astute direction of Adrian A. Cruz, Wildboy '74 is a smart, relentless, and provocative piece of theatre. One doesn't watch it, one is hypnotized by it.

The title describes character Ethan Strong, a self-help guru who specializes in breaking people out of their own symbolic "cages" to lead more fulfilling lives. Ethan's cage was literal—his mother kept him locked in one in the family's basement from age 3 until he was 13. As we unfortunately don't have to imagine in the age of Elisabeth Fritzl, there was a media circus upon his release, and Ethan, many years past the trauma and into adulthood, has turned the experience into a way to help others with books and lecture tours all over the country.

Ethan and his personal assistant Elliott are clearly locked in an unhealthy, co-dependent working relationship. Ethan's tour has brought them to a four-day stay in Delaware with New York City on the horizon. While Ethan's sanity is slowly unraveling and his lectures become more and more erratic, Elliott becomes involved with a tough-as-nails woman named Tess. Tess is searching for her missing sister, Lotte. Lotte, a beautifully free-spirited yet clearly disturbed young woman, seems to be searching for acceptance anywhere she can get it—or at the very least for someone to listen to her. All four characters are lost souls, but not without the hope of human connection and their stories come together in the play's disquieting conclusion.

The set, originally designed by Jason Adams and tweaked for the easy in-and-out of the festival by director Cruz, would work in almost any space it is put in. The minimalist black and white set, with two tall, symmetrical beds draped in blood-red sheets and raised on an angle, creates an eerie tone from the moment you step into the theater. John Zalewski's pre-show music only makes this better. In fact, Zalewski's brilliant sound design does more than simply intensify the mood, it creates it. Cruz also takes advantage of the different levels available in the space by placing a key scene on a "rooftop" above the set.

Although there is a good story in Eva Anderson's script, the play is clearly character-driven. Anderson creates four rich, multi-faceted individuals any actor would be honored to play. And her style of storytelling is stunning. By presenting the story in non-linear fragments, she forces us to pay closer attention to each scene and we cannot help but be drawn in by the characters. It is difficult to accomplish this outside of an editing room, but Anderson's play accomplishes it with the help of the production's four wonderful actors.

The standout is Ben Messmer in the role of "wildboy" Ethan Strong. Messmer gives one of the most raw, honest performances I've seen on stage and he is a positively brilliant actor. Messmer's turns from humor to awkwardness to despair each fill the whole room and there isn't a false moment to be felt. Lucy Griffin is captivating as Lotte. Trevor Peterson and Natalie Urquhart are solid performers who show strength and vulnerability with equal ability.

This play is not for everyone, certainly not the faint-of-heart, but with such a powerful team, this is a must-see.

Written/created by: Eva Anderson
Directed by Adrian A. Cruz
Presented by Calamity Theatre

PennyBear

reviewed by Judith Jarosz

Aug 21, 2008

This Chicago-based troupe presents an hour of comedy sketches of varying lengths, and on a wide variety of subjects. Some of these subjects are more "risky" and others "safer," though almost all are very funny. This is due to some clever scenes written, directed and executed by five very talented artists who are as diverse as their material. The performers include a tall brunette, Marla Caceres; sturdy, bearded Padraic Connelly; the curvaceous, red-haired Nancy Friedrich; and lean, gangly Jon Forsythe, who all work very well together and seem to enjoy what they do as much as we enjoy watching them. (The fifth contributor is director James Whittington.)

As I said, the subject matter varies greatly and most of the sketches involve dark twists, like the one with two corporate co-workers chatting cheerily from their respective cubicles as we slowly learn that she has an emotionally sadistic boyfriend and he still lives with his control freak mom who is nutritionally stuck in the 1950s. Or the sweet lady at the airport ticket stand, who turns into a robotic Nazi. As is usually the case with sketch comedy, occasionally some of the scenes ramble or fall flat. And some, such as the scene with the father talking through the bathroom door to his teen daughter reading instructions on how to insert a tampon, walk a challenging fine line between funny and uncomfortable. But it is really a credit to the performers that most scenes remain funny even as they turn darker.

There is sketch where Forsythe's character gets stuck on a roller coaster that works wonderfully due to his great physical comedic ability. As he keeps whipping around the track getting more and more frantic while his helpless friend stands by, you feel bad for him, but can't help laughing. It reminds me a lot of Steve Martin's work. Another scene has unicorns at a party making out, and let's just say that their horns take on a whole new meaning, with creative use of props, especially for the "climax."

Although there is no real story line throughout the piece, it starts out with Connelly miming putting a needle on a phonograph album, resulting in a scratchy voice of a director who introduces each cast member and starts off the show. We also hear from this voice at the end of the piece, as a way to wrap it up. Director/writer James Whittington makes great use of the stage area and props, and I can only assume that the simple set and lighting, which are not credited, are a group effort. I enjoyed watching this troupe and would definitely check them out again, and bring friends!

Directed by James Whittington
Presented by PennyBear

STARS IN A DARK SKY

reviewed by David Gordon

Aug 21, 2008

Sophie and Hans Scholl were a brother and sister who led a student resistance movement, the White Rose, against the Nazis in Munich. Along with three other students, they handed out leaflets which asked for opposition to the Nazi party. When they were turned in by a janitor who informed the Gestapo, the Scholls were put on trial for treason. Found guilty, they, along with the others, were sentenced to death by guillotine.

Their story is being told in Stars in a Dark Sky, a FringeNYC production by the Red Fern Theatre Company. The play is directed by Red Fern co-founder and artistic director Melanie Moyer Williams and was written by R.E. Vickers, a pseudonym that comprises New York family Whitney and Catryna Seymour, and their grown daughters Tryntje and Gabriel.

Whitney Seymour was serving on the American side in World War II during the time of the Scholls' trial, and he later discovered their story on a trip to the Holocaust Museum in Washington. Some years later, they discovered a book of their letters and spent years trying to devise a way to tell their story.

The result is Stars, a dramatic reading of said letters, combined with connective narration, multimedia presentations of Hitler's speeches, and other photographs and clips. The powerful piece, with shades of The Diary of Anne Frank, is a story that more people should know about. It certainly was my introduction to the Scholls' story, despite years of extensive reading and learning about the Holocaust.

Perhaps one of the pitfalls of a dramatic reading is stumbling over lines in the effort to recite lines from memory while balancing the script on a music stand. Still, stumbles and all, the cast provides very solid, captivating performances. Dana Berger captures the innocent naiveté of young Sophie; Walker Hare provides a forceful and performance as Hans. Narrating the show as oldest sister Inge, Annie Keating has the nice, crisp speaking voice, perfect for voiceovers. Nathan Johnson provides solid support as Werner, the youngest Scholl child.

There isn't much "play" in Stars in a Dark Sky. There are a few scenes, but it's mostly the letters read out loud, which works very well. Vickers has found a way to create a convincing dramatic arc with little dialogue between characters. Williams's staging is very simple and does much justice to the script and the story of the White Rose.

It's ironic that, not even a week after I returned home from a vacation in Germany, I saw Stars in a Dark Sky. Touring the Holocaust Museum and the Memorial and even the Reichstag building, I thought I had learned it all. Apparently not.

Written/created by: R. E. Vickers
Directed by Melanie Moyer Williams
Presented by Lime Rock Press, Inc