twenty50

Oddly, one of the best distractions from the tumultuous election before us comes in the form of a drama about a political contest taking place 25 years from now.  In twenty50, playwright Tony Meneses sets his fresh and calculated thriller in an America in which the southern border is completely closed and Latinos — most of whom have fully assimilated — make up the majority of citizens.  Against this backdrop, farm owner Andres Salazar (who goes by Andy) is running for congress somewhere in the middle of the country.  With his campaign manager urging him to drop references to his background in order to appeal to a wider electorate, he finds himself torn between his traditional mother and his inquisitive daughter who doesn’t know a word of Spanish.  Though the bilingual dialogue sometimes blunts the pacing, it’s essential to the unfolding of the story.  Meneses is drawing on a deeply personal understanding of how much can change in a single generation.  His family moved from Guadalajara, Mexico, and he was raised in Albuquerque and Dallas.  The result of his honest excavation is a fair weighing of the many sides of culture, authenticity, and the desire to belong that are not exclusively LatinX.

In creative partnership with scenic designer Tanya Orellana, director Rebecca Rivas has reshaped T2’s intimate space to represent a house with a sloping roof that engulfs the audience placed on either side of a thrust stage. Lighting Designer Nita Mendoza adds emphasis to this metaphorical container.  The clever use of “farmhands” as stagehands, helps convert the landscape for the final scene.  Within the dwelling, the characters circle one another, trying to find their equilibrium.  Orlando Arriaga makes Salazar both approachable and questioning.  It is his genuine warmth that provides the production with a solid center.  He is particularly strong in exchanges with Isabel Quintero as the mother whose memories of the recent past wash in waves over the present.  Cary Hite as the farm’s manager presents an opportunity for another variation of Andy’s balancing act.  Yet a third foil is Gabriella Perez’s policewoman Lydia, the most obviously futuristic character.  As daughter Jenny, Alyssa Martinez is unnecessarily burdened with a childish wardrobe and mannerisms.  She is best when she leans into the role’s purity instead of relying on these distracting crutches.  Ricardo Pérez Dávila and Freddy Acevedo round out the cast.

Ricardo Pérez Dávila (Sebastian), Alyssa Martinez (Jenny), Isabel Quintero (Irene) , Orlando Arriaga (Andres), Freddy Acevedo (Oscar) | Photo Credit: Wesley Hitt

In a brisk 90 minutes, twenty50 offers a buffet table ladened with food for thought. This is only the second time this play has been mounted and the rhetoric around immigrants has only grown louder and more destructive.  It’s a coup for TheatreSquared and their loyal audience. As the Executive and Artist Directors say, this insightful work “serves as both mirror and beacon.” Note that the content is written for adults, though there is nothing overtly “mature” in the action. 

The best way to see the performance is live for as little as $20, coming face to face with your fellow attendees at TheatreSquared’s Spring Theatre in Arkansas.  But those of us who cannot easily get to downtown Fayetteville should take advantage of the digital tickets to get in on the experience any way they can.  The camera switches house sides in an attempt to bring us fully into the thick of things.  Individual streams are $25 and household streams are $35.  Both types of links are good for 24 hours.  Tickets for performances through November 3 are available by calling (479) 777-7477 or visiting theatre2.org/twenty50.

The Counter

Your ability to feel liberated by the story that unfolds in The Counter will depend greatly and how well the aftermath of the COVID pandemic and the current political climate have treated you.  The Playbill makes clear that the actions take place a few years ago, seemingly before we were all cut off from one another while living under extreme conditions.  If you have maintained or regained the muscle memory of a singular connection with someone in your life, Meghan Kennedy’s newest work will leave you with an increased sense of appreciation.  If, however, you remain in the grip of isolation and anxiety, the honesty with which the playwright confronts those feelings may overwhelm the more pleasant sensations of watching skillful actors drawing generously from sincere emotional wells.

Susannah Flood and Anthony Edwards in
Roundabout Theatre Company’s The Counter; Photo by Joan Marcus

In an economic 75 minutes, Kennedy explores universal themes of grief and opportunities lost and found in a much more successful way than most of the COVID-panic-inspired plays I’ve reviewed this year (see Three Houses, Staff Meal and Six Characters).  Paul (a wholehearted Anthony Edwards nearly unrecognizable under a bushy beard) is a retired firefighter in small town New York close to the Canadian border.  He has an endearing ability to perceive, remember, and value the tiny gestures that make those around him special.  For reasons that come increasingly into focus, his life never fully launched.  Katie (Susannah Flood spreading her gloriously skittish wings) owns the cafe where Paul eats breakfast six mornings a week.  Unlike Paul, she has chosen this quiet and contained life.  With his frank urging, the two begin to form a friendship.   Amy Warren portrays third character, Peg, in a scene made pivotal by all we hear about her character before her entrance. 

Kennedy takes many shortcuts that some may find manipulative in order to move her story along to the key moments that propel each of them down their destined paths.  But in playing out their stories at 1 ½ speed, she accelerates our emotional investment in them both.  With increasing trust, they share “tough talk” with each other and us.  The balance of power shifts frequently, offering us fresh perspective with each twirl.

The scene is laid out in realistic detail by designer Walt Spangler, whose museum-worthy sets always provide an evocative sense of place.  The cafe is set on a angle, coming to a point audience center so everyone gets a pure view of every exchange.  Award-winning director David Cromer gives the central couple just enough business to heighten the small yet critical variation in the day-to-day.  Stacey Derosier’s lightening and Christopher Darbassie’s sound move the emphasis from exterior to interior dialogue and practically allow the windy world outside to swirl around our knees.  

We often hear about the importance of meeting people where they are.  The Counter illustrates exactly how powerful this connection point can be.  The underlying notes around self-care could also not come at a more appropriate time.  This limited engagement — part of Roundabout’s 2024-25 season — runs through November 17 at the Laura Pels Theatre (111 W 46th St).  Full priced tickets start at $58 and are available by calling 212.719.1300, or online at roundabouttheatre.org.

Lifeline

If you combined a biopic with a public service announcement and a Scottish jam session, you’d have Lifeline, the musical that opened Wednesday night at the Pershing Square Signature Theater.  Lifeline tells the story of Alexander Fleming, the Scottish microbiologist who stumbled upon Penicillin and introduced the world to the lifesaving power of antibiotics.  From the outset, Fleming recognized that if used incorrectly his discovery could lead to the formation of “superbugs,”: bacteria that becomes resistant to the drugs.  In tandem with Fleming’s history is the fictional tale of a rising musician, Aaron, and his childhood sweetheart now his attending physician, Jess.  While out on his first tour, Aaron had developed serious digestive issues and began taking antibiotics to relieve his symptoms.  Eventually seeking proper medical attention at Jess’s hospital, he underwent successful surgery, but developed a post-operative infection that won’t abate.  

With a book by Becky Hope-Palmer and music and lyrics by Robin Hiley and his songwriting partner James Ross, Lifeline was brought to New York by Hiley’s Charades Theatre Company, a charity that promotes community and social issues through their work.  The production started life at the Edinburgh Fringe as “The Man Behind the Mould,” and continued to evolve over six years as it toured London and D.C. among other stops.  The current rendition is described as “reinvented” and quotes from critics who reviewed the earlier two-time sell-out do not rightfully represent this run.

Drawing inspiration from practicing doctors and scientists who have engaged with the piece, the playwright does a splendid job of underlining the parallels between Fleming’s findings and current events.  Though the storyline is tough to witness and the outcome telegraphed from the outset, the first act of Hope-Palmer’s time-hopping script moves along briskly, buoyed by the musical talents of and chemistry between Scott McClure’s Aaron and Kirsty MacLaren’s Jess and the sincerity of Matthew Malthouse as the grounding Alexander Fleming.  (McClure doubles as Fleming’s war buddy, Clowes.) Alone, it would have been enough to amplify the threat that antimicrobial resistance (AMR) poses for the entire world.   Act II goes deeper into Fleming’s past and the aftermath of Aaron’s failed treatment.  But except for “I’ve Done All that I Can”, a song about the proliferation of antibiotics in our food and water delivered by Julian (Robbie Scott) a politician friend, there is little that adds to our understanding of the problem. And at a running time of 2:35, the endeavor becomes relentless — more likely to overwhelm than impress — and ends in a way that may be pure but is not satisfying.  The most thrilling twist, revealed in the last moments, concerns some of the cast members rather than the characters they portray.

In its current form, the production also seems better suited to a much larger space.  The leads are backed by five ensemble players and a rotating chorus of twelve.  A spirited band performs upstage throughout.  Alice McNicholas’s set is anchored by an illuminated turntable.  It so dominates the stage that Alex Howarth’s direction is primarily comprised of walking in circles and standing back to back while Wayne Parsons’ dance numbers featuring alter-egos and younger selves are forced to be nearly vertical.  The scenic arrangement also requires the cast to repeatedly hoist Aaron’s hospital bed on and off the platform.  Wonderfully creative visuals by Will Monks blend film, hand drawing, and helpful facts.  They are projected onto hospital privacy curtains to fill out the look, though some of Monks’ lighting is nearly blinding mid-house.

Aaron/Clowes (Scott McClure) is assisted by medical staff in Lifeline; photo by Andrew Patino

In light of a movement to have drug companies sell medications directly to patients, Lifeline provides palatable critical counsel about a rarely discussed healthcare crisis.  As a celebration of medical professionals, it’s superior to the beating of pots and pans.  As an introduction to Fleming and his achievements, it’s a shame that the whimsy of the original piece has been shed in favor of glum earnestness.  

It would be easier to recommend Lifeline as a daring artistic experiment if regular tickets were not $72 and premium seating $91, though that is understandable given the number of professionals involved who deserve to be making more than bus fare. The show continues through September 28 at the Alice Griffin Jewel Box at 480 West 42nd Street in New York.  Tickets are available at https://www.lifelinemusical.com/.   The current run is ironically sponsored in part by biopharma company GSK and pharmaceutical giant Merck.  Despite requests to turn off your phone in the lobby, don’t.  The only way to access the Playbill is with a QR code.  

FRIGID’s Little Shakespeare Festival

Saturday marked the closing night of FRIGID New York’s 4th annual Little Shakespeare Festival.  Known for their emphasis on creativity, collaboration, and affordability, this year’s line-up included seven original pieces.  Each one act script was built around the theme of Camaraderie and Community using the vast oeuvre of the Bard as a jumping off point.  

Festival curator, Conor D. Mullen, points out that Shakespeare himself was an independent artist whose casts were often composed of close friends who were given too little rehearsal time. Having a stripped down set and costumes “designed” by Goodwill is a fitting way to present productions inspired by his work.  Highlights included Mindy Mawhirter’s and Alyssa Cokinis’s The Lark and the Nightingale, which gave Juliet and Desdemona a second chance at love and happiness, and the bravely improvised As You Will created by Conor D Mullen, David Brummer, and George Hider.

Unfortunately FRIGID’s current home at UNDER St. Marks (94 St Marks Place) is literally “under,” in a basement and not fully accessible.  Aiming to remain truly inclusive, the producers added live-stream performances throughout the run.  This was how I was able to watch Hamlet Isn’t Dead’s utterly delightful When My Cue Comes with my elderly mother.  While I hope it won’t be too long before they find a space that more fully meets their needs, I encourage them to keep this option for those with mobility and caregiving issues and to reach out to audiences beyond New York. 

When My Cue Comes depicts a time when Hamlet’s Reynaldo, As You Like It’s Jaques de Boys, The Tempest’s Boatswain, and a very overworked Messenger find themselves deserted in a Waiting Room.  They had believed themselves to be essential workers.  Instead, they’ve been clipped from many a modern production and slowly bond while awaiting their next cue from The Playwright.  Quick witted and cleverly timed by writer/director B. Carty, the comical work also manages to be touching and relevant to today’s disconnected times.  

Jaques de Boys (Aaron Moore) tries to find himself with support from Reynaldo (Reid Watson), Messenger (Natalie Deboer), and Boatswain (Gabriel Ethridge) in When My Cue Comes.

This off-off-Broadway offering may be low budget, but it’s definitely not low talent.  Much of joy in this production radiates from the exuberant cast.  With perky energy possibility derived from a morning bowl of cookie crunch, Natalie Deboer’s Messenger punches through the fourth wall.  Reid Watson brings warm devotion to the abandoned Reynaldo.  As played by Aaron Moore, Jaques de Boys is profoundly rattled by his exile.  Mining every line for comic gems, Gabriel Ethridge’s Boatswain has never been more at sea.  Grounding them as long as she can is Madeline Parks, whose Playwright isn’t in as much control as she’d like.  The ease of the entire ensemble was palpable even at a distance.

Having (mostly) recovered from lockdown, FRIGID New York recently resumed their resident artists program.  Last week they announced the programming for their very full 27th season. This includes their annual Days of the Dead Festival, a celebration of nothing less than life and death, taking place October 17 to November 2. This will be followed November 3 through 17 by the 12th Gotham Storytelling Festival.  A complete schedule and ticketing information can be found at https://www.frigid.nyc/

Someone Spectacular

When their grief counselor, Beth, fails to show up for their group therapy session, the majority of her six clients vote to go on without her.  The revelation of their interaction is not in the manifestation of their grief.  Theirs is the expected cocktail of misplaced guilt, regret for things both said and unsaid, and the pain caused by the absence of “their person.”   Rather, the eye-opening moments of Someone Spectacular stem from each participant’s attempt to move the meeting — and the others in attendance— forward.  Do you keep your feelings to yourself?  Do you breathe, sleep or eat your way through?  Do you force yourself to take an obvious next step?  Can anyone just snap you out of it?

Playwright Doménica Feraud has dedicated this warm play to her mother, Nathalie Feraud-Salame, who had nurtured her through a crippling eating disorder.  It is Feraud-Salame’s whose passions and heart run through each of the characters.  Doménica’s deep understanding of Nathalie’s way of being has enabled her to use knowing shorthand to tell us much about each character in just 90 minutes.  Feraud’s genuine affection for each of her creations shines through even when she has to rely on a few tropes to find essential connections and get to her point.

The confident ensemble brings out the best in the material.  Delia Cunningham’s delicate Jude attracts attention even before the official start of the piece, dashing off stage as the audience is still finding their seats.  A moody Lily played by Ana Cruz Kayne makes herself known with a bang of her bag, a thump of her tiny rump, and a conspicuous costume adjustment. Next to catch our eyes and ears is Shakur Tolliver’s Julian, drumming on the back of his chair with a discomfort that has taken over every aspect of his life.  Dressed for business even on a Sunday afternoon, Damian Young’s Thom seems more invested in taking phone calls than in staying present.  It is Alison Cimmet’s crisp and impatient Nelle who pushes for action.  And Gamze Ceylan elegant and vulnerable Evelyn who brings the most skilled therapeutic elements to their time together.  Though Beth hasn’t arrived, her essence takes shape through their interpretation of her techniques and motivations.

Delia Cunningham, Alison Cimmet, Damian Young, Shakur Tolliver, Gamze Ceylan and Ana Cruz Kayne; Photo by Julieta Cervantes

With the exception of Thom, Director Tatiana Pandiani moves the restless mourners around the traditional talking circle of chairs.  Scenic design team dots provides them with plenty to work with from the children’s toys in the corner, the dying plant upstage, an unexplained helium balloon hugging the ceiling, and the sparse coffee set-up stage left.  This gives each audience section an opportunity to experience everyone as they literally jockey for their rightful place. 

Writing this play may have been cathartic for Feraud and it certainly is for the audience.  The more serious conversations are interspersed with understandable snark and amusing insight.  I saw friends and couples touching hands and heads in connection.  A young woman got as far as an exit door only to return to her seat and watch the remainder of the piece clutching her purse. The majority laughed and nodded in recognition.  There are plenty of moments for all present to breathe.

Grief is obviously not a problem that has a solution.  But Doménica Feraud has turned a discussion about this tough experience into an engaging and touching theatrical work.  The world premiere of Someone Spectacular has been extended at the Pershing Square Signature Center, 480 West 42nd Street,  through September 7.  (Note that it is not a Signature Theater production, but the first creation of B3-A12, a partnership which was founded in honor of Nathalie Feraud-Salame.)  The action starts promptly on the hour and there is no intermission.  Tickets range from $39 to $119.  For more information and to purchase tickets, visit https://someonespectacularplay.com/.  

Six Characters

When theater-goers hear “Six Characters,” they expect them to be in search of an author.  But the half dozen who populate Six Characters, a new theatrical by Phillip Howze currently running at Lincoln Center, are in search of deserved attention, Italian tailoring, an equitable theater community, additional paid vacation, a through-line between scenes, a tolerant audience and, in the case of “the slave,” a really good book.  Howze concepts are ambitious, but the experience is less like attending a fully formed play and more like a 2AM doom scroll through Instagram.

While sitting in the Claire Tow bar area enjoying a theme drink — a mood-setter that might make you more receptive to the edgy content ahead — you will be offered a yellow bracelet if you’re open to being a participant.  You’ll be confronted no matter your answer since the Lincoln Center audience is repeatedly called out for supporting the white dominance of performing arts with houselights ablaze.  This piece kicks, scratches, punches, and admonishes, but without a cohesive narrative or genuine depth, little of it lands.  The overarching aim appears to be making everyone in the room uncomfortable with the messages and the messengers.  This would be more effective if we weren’t already feeling rubbed raw by current events and Howze had a clearer target.

No one can fault the commitment of the cast who must ride the bumpy waves of the script.  Julian Robertson is The Director, who starts off on an unfamiliar stage trying to corral an unruly troop of strangers.  They are led by the blustery Sassafras, played with boundless energy by Claudia Logan.  She is joined by her former boyfriend (Will Cobbs), a baby-faced younger man named Newman (CG), a runaway Slave who calls herself Road (Seven F.B. Duncombe) and the theater’s janitor (Seret Scott).  Scott is given the most to work with in her embodiment of all those who hold three jobs and yet remain invisible.  And Robertson has a sense of majesty that surfaces even when he is physically tied down.

Seret Scott and Julian Robertson in Six Characters at LCT.
Photo by Marc J. Franklin

Six Characters may be short on story, but it is long on atmosphere.  Starting off on a bare stage, the piece becomes increasingly visually interesting.  Director Dustin Wills — who has collaborated with Howze before —keeps finding ways to constrain his people even in this wide open space.  Regulars of LCT in particular will appreciate the wit infused in Wills’ set design, most notably at the top of Act II.  Each of the characters is given layers of fakery and playfulness to literally try on by costumer Montana Levi Blanco.  And the sound by Christopher Darbassie is relentless even during intermission.

Steps are being taken in boardrooms and on leadership teams throughout the American theater world to make space for a variety of voices and viewpoints.  And just as there is no such thing as a “Black job” (a line that was likely added in the last few days) no play should be labeled a color.  But Howze does a disservice to Six Characters and to a willing audience by leaving us feeling exhausted, peering out a tiny window with no sense of a healthy way forward.  

Six Characters run through August 25th at the Claire Tow Theater in Lincoln Center, 150 West 65th Street.  All tickets are $33 including fees, though the Telecharge interface is poorly designed and frustrating to use.  Runtime is 2 hours and 10 minutes including intermission.  The lobby and roof top deck open one hour before curtain. 

NY Classical’s Henry IV

It’s summertime, the season of delightful outdoor (mostly free) performances.  Among my favorite companies is New York Classical Theatre.  Artistic Director Stephen Burdman has a one-of-a-kind flair for molding even the densest of texts into a compact and entertaining two hours.  This year he has impressively taken on Shakespeare’s Henry IV Parts I and II.  More than any of the history plays, Henry IV is a love letter to Shakespeare’s country and all its colorful facets.  Part I covers the early years of Henry’s reign soon after he has taken the crown from his weaker cousin Richard II.  He was not Richard’s chosen successor and rebellion is brewing.  To make his situation even more precarious, the King’s heir, Prince Hal, is far more interested in palling around with his jolly friend Jack Falstaff and his wayward circle than in taking his rightful place at court.  Part II continues the story, ending with a post-battle Hal stepping into his role as responsible King Henry V and disavowing his relationship with Sir Falstaff.  

Burdman has cut away much of Henry’s lamentations, but despite the title these were never Henry’s plays.  Falstaff is what we would call a fan favorite (so much so that Shakespeare gave him a cross-over role in The Merry Wives of Windsor.)  In this production, he is played with wit, charisma, and a dose of self-awareness by NYCT artistic associate John Michalski.  Counterpoint is Hotspur, a hero in an old-fashioned mold, who begins as a Henry ally and ends as a central force among the rebels.  Even passersby could identify this personification of gallantry by Damian Jermaine Thompson’s ramrod posture and elegant demeanor, two qualities he sheds when he also plays the meeker John of Lancaster.  As a nod to the power of Queen Elizabeth I who was on the throne in Shakespeare’s time, Burdman has changed Mortimer’s gender.  This allows us the pleasure of more time with magnetic Anique Clements, who also takes on Beth (formerly Ned) Poins, Hal’s closest friend.  Burdman has also converted Worcester to a Countess interpreted by Carine Montbertrand who doubles as put-upon tavern owner Mistress Quickly.  Her physical and verbal shifts between classes earns her special appreciation.  The overly self-confident Owen Glendower gets plenty of exuberance from Ian Gould who also portrays the King’s Brother-in-Law Westmoreland.  Ian Antal, another of the artistic associates, plays young Prince Hal with a devilish smile and much whipping of lustrous hair. The remaining cast members — Briana Gibson Reeves, Nuah Ozryel, Nick Salamone, and Juan Luis Acevedo — help move the story along with the high energy and wonderful timing this production demands.  

In most settings, this company has the audience change locations several times.  In Carl Schurz Park they are more physically restricted, so the actors move through the crowd.  They speak their lines cheating to the viewers and those who suddenly find themselves at the back are given permission to stand.  The trees form a lovely backdrop and the birds add to the soundtrack.  You have only to look at the long list of fight, movement, and vocal professionals in the program to get a sense of what it took to get this well-rounded creation on its many feet.

Henry IV and all his parts is a particularly welcome offering in the year when the Delacorte, home of the Public Theater’s Shakespeare in the Park, is shuttered for renovations.  It can best be enjoyed with friends, a snack and perhaps a well-behaved dog.  A perusal of the cleverly written program notes beforehand (https://theunforgettableline.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/efd4d-dramaturgyh42324.pdf ) is highly recommended.  You can catch New York Classical Theatre’s Henry IV among greenery at Carl Schurz Park through Sunday, July 7 or with water and an actual castle July 9 through 14 at Clinton Castle at Battery Park.  To make a free reservation and for more information visit https://nyclassical.org/

Responders

As Tucker’s mother sees it, everything happens at the same time: the good, the bad, and the random.  That paradigm is evident in Responders, Joseph Scott Ford’s new play currently running at Arkansas’s TheatreSquared. The good, is the apparent affection the characters hold for one another, even the squabbling exes Daryl and Suzie. The bad is the suicide paramedic Daryl and his newly minted partner Ang have found hanging from a billboard near the highway.  The police who should be first responders are running late because of a flat tire.  The school buses will soon be driving by and Ang — deeply concerned about the impact the gruesome sight will have on the town’s young children — is considering bending the rules and disturbing the scene.  But Suzie, an ambitious local news reporter, needs a big story. She would rather capture every traumatized face with her loyal cameraman, Tucker.  The random will not be spoiled here except to say it completes Ford’s exploration of mental distress through a droll and compassionate lens.  

An Arkansas native, Ford applies a distinctive perspective to rural middle American life that is simultaneously loving and probative. This Oklahoma town is so small that the Uber service is simply “Sandra.”  The contained setting promotes both the closeness and the friction that makes the action and the dialogue click.  The banter is relaxed and humorous even when the situation clearly isn’t.

Director vickie washington, who collaborated with Ford when the piece was being developed at T2’s 2022 Arkansas New Play Festival, returns to the helm.  She leverages the obvious comfort between her cast members, all of whom appeared in previous incarnations of the work.  From the outset, the body remains mostly obscured by a stark and dusty roadside set designed by Sydney Lynne, chillingly a prop more than a person.  The victim’s suit jacket and polished shoes (props by Brodie Jasch) sadly hang on fencing nearby.  Kelsey Claire’s plain-speaking Ang and Bradley Campbell’s world-weary Daryl arrive with the gurney through an aisle between the two perpendicular audience sections, immediately drawing everyone into the action.  The two actors play warmly together and each one is given an intimate scene with Edwin Green’s recently returned veteran Tucker.  The conversation between Daryl and Tucker, built on the awareness that their jobs have warped their senses of humor, is particularly moving.  Though her dialogue also offers glimpses of a tender side, Miranda Jane remains too shrill and edgy to give Suzie the balance that is evident in Ford’s script.  Costume designer Jennifer McClory has taken care to ensure her character literally stands out in fuchsia against the uniforms and earth tones of the others, so this further push is unnecessary.  Levi J. Wilkins’s lighting offers gentle shading where it’s needed.

Bradley Campbell and Kelsey Claire in Joseph Scott Ford’s Responders.
Photo credit: TheatreSquared

By blending clever repartee with straightforward talk, Responders finds the sweet spot between entertainment and message.  It is a true homegrown product marking the fourth co-production of the Fayetteville, Arkansas based TheatreSquared and Arkansas Repertory in Little Rock.  Running time is an hour and 15 minutes with no intermission.  This World Premiere continue through June 30 at the Spring Theatre on 477 W. Spring Street in downtown Fayetteville, Arkansas. Tickets are $43-$68.  Digital tickets are available through T2 at Home for just $25.  Though the audio is slightly muffled and best experienced with headphones, it’s a nice option if you are unable to get to a live performance.  Visit https://www.theatre2.org/ for more information and to purchase tickets.  

Appraisal (Preview)

Plato said, “One of the penalties for refusing to participate in politics is that you end up being governed by your inferiors.”  This sagacious line — quoted about halfway through the dark comedy Appraisal — summarizes Nicky’s worst fear as she enters the political minefield of her annual review. Her evaluation will be conducted by Jo, a man she’s privately told others is lazy among other shortcomings.  Nicky has admitted to making a few missteps in her ten years of supervising her team.  Like many office workers, she’s frustrated by the amount of paperwork and meetings that have chewed up her time.  But by traditional standards, she is a caring and dedicated employee who delivers measurable results.  Unfortunately for Nicky, Jo isn’t applying traditional standards.  His professional agenda — which falls somewhere below his desire for a better golf swing — is revealed turn by turn.  

As constructed by playwright Tim Marriott, who also portrays Jo, Appraisal travels some well-known pathways.  Having us settle into a rhythm of comfortably nodding our heads only serves to make the arrival at less familiar territory more jarring.  Director Margarett Perry has given the affable Marriott some wonderfully revealing staging.  He increasingly displays the physicality and emotional intelligence of a spider.  With a baring of his teeth that he hopes passes for a smile and some inappropriately chummy body language, Jo is off-putting even when he’s delivering something of a compliment.  Alex Sunderhaus’s Nicky is, engagingly, harder to peg.  The only questionable artistic decision is to dress her in a sleeveless yellow striped pantsuit (presumably from the actresses’s own closet since no costume design credit is given) topped off with messy hair held back by dime store barrettes.  It’s an incongruous look for an astute corporate player and an unnecessary distraction from a strong edgy performance.

Marriott and Sunderhaus in Appraisal; photo by Carol Rosegg

The power struggle between Jo and Nicky is relatable even to those who have never held an executive position.  There is a universality in the desire to be heard and valued and a general loathing of the dysfunctional hierarchies that seemingly weed out talent.  Another strength of Marriott’s lightly humorous script is the succinct yet vivid descriptions of characters we never get to see including Nicky’s child, Sam, and her co-workers, Cassie and Kat.  

With an peppy work-related soundtrack (Morning Train, Nine to Five, Manic Monday), 59e59 Street Theaters sets the tone for a pleasant and distracting hour of entertainment fitting for a hot summer evening.  Appraisal continues through June 30 in their Theater B as part of their Brits Off Broadway Season. Tim Marriott’s Smokescreen, a contemporary issues-based production company, co-produces with Twilight Theatre Company, a non-profit that supports the development of new works primarily by emerging UK artists.  Tickets are $30 for members and $44 for non-members.  Due to the intimacy of the space, there is no late seating and no reentry.  For more information visit https://www.59e59.org/shows/show-detail/appraisal/

Coach Coach

Dr. Meredith Martin is not just any old coach.  She is an esteemed coach coach running a very exclusive program for coaches who are struggling.  Her current retreat — held in an aging and overstuff rental home centered between an airport for convenience and the woods for aesthetics — is so exclusive there are only four attendees.  Each of the participants hopes Dr. Martin will elevate her practice and perhaps even give her a place on the insider team.  

This is the set-up of Bailey Williams’ new comedy Coach Coach, the second entry of  Clubbed Thumb’s 2024 Summerworks.  Commissioned by the daring incubator, the script is not as wholly satisfying as some of their past offerings.  Williams has fun playing with the language of psycho babble and marketing spin and earns many chuckles, but the work could be far more expansive in its views of what is admittedly a poorly regulated speciality and more probing in its observations about the sway of some players within it.  While each soliloquy highlights an aspect of a character’s struggle, collectively they give a choppiness to the unfolding of events without significantly varying the tone or the emotional undercurrent.  

Despite its shortcomings it is, in the words of one CT insider, very “on brand”: thoughtful, explorative, and marching to the beat of its own rhythm section.  Also in keeping with Clubbed Thumb’s deserved reputation, all the artistic elements are of high quality.  The cast  — Purva Bedi, Cindy Cheung, Becca Lish, Kelly McAndrew, Susannah Millonzi and Zuzanna Szadkowski — is terrific both as individuals and as a well orchestrated ensemble. Even when the characters are not fully listening to one another, the actresses clearly are.  Director Sarah Blush has mined the recursive dialogue for maximum impact, for example having death coach Velma (Millonzi) slither over the furniture with reptilian delight and often leaving the deflated Patti (Cheung) perched at the end of her chair as if she isn’t sure she deserves to even sit.  Dan Wang’s costumes are color coded for each specialty: green for business, hot pink for romance, black for death and so on.  His initial wardrobe choice for assistant coach Margo (Szadkowski) received its own round of applause.  Scenic designer Colleen Murray’s selection of furnishing styles lends the right oppressive air. And lighting design by Masha Tsimring and sound design by Johnny Gasper lean heavily into the eeriness of the ill-fated gathering.  

Margo (Zuzanna Szadkowdki) contemplates her options in Clubbed Thumb’s Coach Coach; photo by Maria Baranova

Coach Coach runs through June 13 at the Wild Project on 3rd Street between Avenues A and B.  Running time is 75 minutes with no intermission.  Evening performances are almost completely sold out, but there are newly posted 3:00pm matinees on June 12 and 13.  Tickets are $25 for students, $30 for general admission, and $40 for a reserved seat (highly recommended.)  You can also “pay it forward” for $60.  And if you find yourself too late to secure a spot for this very limited run, consider being ahead of the curve for Crystal Finn’s Find Me Here opening on June 19.  With its starry cast and notable design team, this final entry of the season is sure to be a Clubbed Thumb treat.  Visit https://www.clubbedthumb.org/productions/2024/ for more tickets and information.