Past Reviews
CINEMASTAGE
"The Weir"
At the Irish Repertory Theatre
Review by KEVIN MARTIN
August 2015
Ah, what demon has tempted me here?Well, I know, now, this dim lake of Auber - This misty mid region of Weir-Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber,This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir. - Edgar Allan Poe ("Ulalume" 1848)
There have been many an Irish production in this great city - though none of recent memory fixes the experience of reflection and imagination quite so deftly as the current and very strong outing of "The Weir", Conor McPherson's thoughtful visitation of adult wonderings and feelings of the past that go bump-in-the-soul. If living honestly means sometimes taking advantage of one's own flash of needful talk and then sharing that moment via the kindness of either visitors or strangers, then the "The Weir" is for you. (A weir - for the unpretentious - is simply, and literally, a barrier or specific dam that crosses along a river or any waterway). Directed with crystal clear instinct by Ciaran O'Reilly and seamlessly acted by - in order of appearance - Paul O'Brien, Tim Ruddy, John Keating, Sean Gormley, and Amanda Quaid, "The Weir" carries us along on an Irish journey of shared personal ruminations - and in its doing - seduces us groundlings into knowing just a little more better about ourselves (hopefully); the acting here has within its expressive confines the reminder that, yes, our little lives are indeed rounded by a sleep, and for some of us, a restless sleep. "The Weir" takes place in a plain Irish pub in a remote Irish town, starting out with some social interplay between a couple of locals, patron Jack (O'Brien) and the pub's bartender/owner Brendan himself (Ruddy). Their pointed chatter touches upon the horse races as well as whether to sell some of the property on which the pub rests (there is an adjoining section of property and house that Brendan's siblings wish for him to do the unloading). As to winning horse-racing bets, Jack has been a lucky winner on this occasion, with gratitude perhaps being owed to the clever recommendations of Jim (Keating) who is a part-time employee of Jack's. (Jack owns an auto-garage). Eventually, the small place is filled up with more patrons from the general area, and the conversation(s) turns accordingly. These turns eventually bring about an existential feel to the proceedings. As the pub's evening progresses, Jim has also stopped by for a refresher of his own (stout and whiskey do nicely). Soon afterward, in walk two more patrons together - Finbar (Gormley) and Valerie (Quaid). The whole assemblage evolves into a rendezvous with well-felt monologues, as each of the patrons do his and her unique telling of a past experience, conveyed by both an unsettling, near-ghoulish humor and genuinely dark pathos. Be aware of the grand Irish skill of hinting at the haunted, given in partnership to a mysterious "Fairy Road"; these and other elements of the stories told are together smoothly woven into the play's dramatic fabric. Be aware, also, of the the gorgeous simplicity of it as you watch and listen. It would be unfair to give all the rest here. Let it suffice that this non-intermission, 90-plus minute production is deeply expressed for perhaps different purposes, the very deepest of which entails a truly sad and utterly credible story given by Valerie. Seeing this, it is quite certain that the overall strength (i.e., its power to persuade) of "The Weir" is rooted in part to the strongly human aspect of determined story-telling, without risk. That is the play's gift to itself and to us. The mood and atmosphere hold together impressively, thanks to the excellent efforts of Charlie Corcoran for the neat set as well as to Martin Gottlieb for effective lighting - both never over done - so that we hardly even know the work of the set design and stage lighting is actually happening. "The Weir" plays just right. The Irish Repertory is presenting "The Weir" at DR2 Theater on East 15th Street, near Union Square, Manhattan; Box Office Tel. # 212-727-2737, "The Weir" is playing until Aug. 23rd. Online Information: irishrep.org. ================================================================
ARMS AND THE MANTheater Row West 42nd St, NYC REVIEW by Kevin Martin(Theater Mania) Compared with plays like Pygmalion and Mrs. Warren’s Profession, Bernard Shaw’s Arms and the Man is not one of his better-known works. Gingold Theatrical Group’s lively new production at Theatre Row, however, makes a case for its being made more familiar to theatergoers. Its antiwar theme is always timely, but the campy potential of its characters makes it far funnier and more accessible to modern audiences than some of his much headier comedies.That’s not to say that this revival, directed by David Staller, consistently wrings out all that potential. It takes a few scenes for the cast to shake off some stiffness and relax into Shaw’s laughably exaggerated characters, but once they do, the comical moments rush forth unlike any I’ve ever seen in Shaw.It takes place in Bulgaria during the 1880s as a war is going on. In an aristocratic bedroom (monochrome dollhouse set design by Lindsay G. Fuori), Raina Petkoff (Shanel Bailey) muses about heroes and bravery while she awaits the return of her dashing soldier fiancé, Sergius (Ben Davis). Suddenly, there is a gunshot (subdued sound design by Julian Evans), and a handsome Swiss mercenary (Keshav Moodliar) breaks into Raina’s room and asks for shelter. Shocked but a little turned on, she hides him with the help of her haughty mother, Catherine (Karen Ziemba), and helps him escape.Months later, Sergius comes home from the war with Raina’s father Major Petkoff (Thomas Jay Ryan) and all seems in order for the two young lovers to be wed. But Sergius proves to be more arms than man with the maid, Louka (Delphi Borich), and the unexpected return of the Swiss mercenary, now a captain, throws Raina’s sense of loyalty out the window. Who will end up with whom as a whole new war breaks out at home? Though Arms and the Man is an early Shaw play (his fourth), he already had a knack for witty repartee and brisk comedic plotting, and all his blustery characters, each of them arrogant and two-faced in their own way, is ripe for campy treatment. In the role of Sergius, Davis gets the assignment. His braggart soldier fills the stage with overblown self-importance as he turns toward the audience so that we can marvel at his physique (costume designer Tracy Christensen’s gray military uniform can barely contain Sergius’s bloated ego). Borich’s flirty Louka gets laughs with her knowing side glances and fourth-wall-breaking smiles, as does Evan Zes in his role as the ambitious manservant Nicola.The rest of the cast doesn’t fare as well in the laugh department. Bailey, whose character Raina hides her feelings behind a cloak of conventionality, might be excused for delivering lines with humorless formally. The same can’t be said for Ryan’s Major Petkoff, whose bombast fails to get many chuckles until the very end. Ziemba as the hyperexcitable Catherine also seems like an untapped comedic font for much of the play, while Moodliar breaks even as the stolid Swiss soldier. Fortunately, Staller pulls out the stops at the end for a riotous final scene that does in fact leave the audience in stitches. Too bad that what comes before doesn’t have the same effect, but the end goes a long way in making the whole thing worthwhile.For those who do know the play, several changes to the script may jump out, notably Staller having the characters directly address the audience at the beginning to set the scene and give some idea of what to expect. Shaw considered using the technique himself for this play but never did. While it’s a respectable enough alteration, sussing out the play’s nutty comedy and antiwar satire, rather than making esoteric script changes, might have proved a more successful strategy.
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“MACBETH" - shown at BAM, opened strongly with 3 Emergency Room nurses (aka the three witches) nursing a bloodily injured, battle worn combatant whilst he moans broadly at impending doom. Macbeth, a general in the army of King Duncan and accompanied with military colleague Banquo at his side, soon enters upon the witches' turf who bluntly forecast his impassioned, poisony ambitions: "Hail, Macbeth, Hail Thane of Cawdor, thou shall be king hereafter." They also declaim to Banquo that he will be the father of kings – though not one himself. This will not sit well with Macbeth. Played with great smoothness and effortless curiosity from the outset by Patrick Stewart (hey, who's getting fooled now?), the ambitions of his Macbeth unfurl with certain ease. The tight direction under Rupert Goold’s attentive eye weaves well atop this dramatic smoothness, charmed by Stewart's stage intelligence. He makes this naughty fellow all very sinister, funny, - and human. Recalling William Shakespeare’s JULIUS CAESER comment that "ambition should be made of sterner stuff' makes one think about ambition's overkill in the hands of this Scottish villain. Having his gruesome goal - almost immediately - next fulfilled (as predicted by the evil hags) by thus becoming – in fact - Thane of Cawdor, the newly ambitious Scot sets off to wilder heights that include having (his cousin) Duncan rubbed out in red. In Goold’s ghoulish view of things Macbeth, our contemporary history by analogy rings fairly true: militarism rising up in politics American style – maybe British style, too, - and all, (of course) in the name of freedom. Read: ”we but teach bloody instruction, which being taught, returns to plague the inventor”. Following that, think fascist Italy, think Poland September 1939, think Soviets in Kabul 1979 and USA in Kabul 2002, think Abu Gharaib 2003 and beyond. Conclusion: bloody instruction degrades the doer (does that make him an evil-doer)? Macbeth is a sly shit also – wanting the nasty stuff to be done in order to attain his own kingship, - but wary that he might have to confront some awful repercussions if he fails at the bloody deed. In this context, his extra ambitious wife and virago, Lady Macbeth (grandly executed by Kate Fleetwood, and watch the way she manhandles that cake!), steps up to the plate, - titillated and enamored as she has been by Macbeth’s earlier letters detailing the witches’ premonitions. Such is the workings of the thirst and hunger for power, presented here with a near precision for New York audiences. Here, bloody thoughts turn into visual effect for our absorption - elements of sheer terror in the criminal range of ambition: lust, overreaching, hypocrisy, mendacity, misuse of armed forces, tyranny; sound familiar? Several darkly humorous touches in the unfolding drama move well: the spousal bantering, cuddling, and cajoling of Mr. and Mrs. Mac amid the psychic dance of their back and forth blaspheming to power, as well as their premature, flight-from-reality ballroom celebration (black piano and all) both come to mind. All these moments have enormous theatrical influence, and to ask of it that they should be more “scary” or “spooky” would be to risk placing the story of these two Macnaughties in cliché land. Fortunately that never happens. Here, the director has gotten just about everyone to suit the action to the word. There is not a weak actor in this cast, thank you very much (a personal relief of mine). Why can’t all hard-rehearsed Macbeth productions be this Macgood? _________________________________________________Cast: Suzanne Burden (Lady Macduff), Michael Feast (Macduff), Kate Fleetwood (Lady Macbeth), Scott Handy (Malcolm), Bill Nash (Angus), Mark Rawlings (Lennox), Paul Shelley (Duncan/a Scottish Doctor), Patrick Stewart (Macbeth), Tim Treloar (Ross) and Martin Turner (Banquo).- Kevin Martin
======================Wolf Hall: Parts One & TwoApril - 2015Part One: Wolf HallPart Two: Bring Up the Bodies Now Playing at the Winter Garden on Broadway for a Limited RunBy Hilary Mantel; adapted by Mike Poulton; directed by Jeremy Herrin; sets and costumes by Christopher Oram; Part One lighting by Paule Constable and Part Two lighting by David Plater; music by Stephen Warbeck; sound by Nick Powell; movement by Sian Williams; associate director, Joe Murphy; production stage manager, Michael J. Passaro; production manager, Aurora Pdns. - KEVIN MARTIN When a stage production's very favorable reputation precedes itself, it is all the more satisfying when that turns out to be true, yet even more rewarding when the same production has actually exceeded that reputation; viz., this is a fantastic, dramatic, double-whammy of a doozy of a production of a historical fiction brand of Tudor history via "Wolf Hall" and "Bring Up The Bodies" that has proved itself to be better than its advance publicity - or "buzz", which was rightly bragged about long before it ever opened at the Winter Garden. "Wolf Hall" and "Bring Up The Bodies" work as a 2-part, fast-paced, almost evenly divided 6-hour historic journey through the professional life of (protaganist) Thomas Cromwell in relation to his English King, Henry VIII. Both parts of the production are flawlessly acted and smartly realized, and both stagings are based on the recently penned books of the same respective titles by British writer Hilary Mantel (double recipient of the prestigious Booker Prize for both achievements). "Wolf Hall" opens up the story of Cromwell (future lawyer for the king) as he navigates events suiting his own ambitions while accommodating the needs and impulses of his royal boss - all during the years of 1527-1533. This pair of gems is not merely a royal demonstration of indeterminate kingly, courtly gossip. More rightly, when watched and listened with a stronger curiosity for a better desire to learn, - the experience catapults our imagination's energy into the realm of stage reality: we enjoy watching the historic doings and undoings of the very powerful. For King Henry and Cromwell once strolled the earth, and impacted England's destiny long after they were gone. Now, almost five centuries later, we are witnessing their affairs. Wolf Hall is the early part of Cromwell's climb forward and upward; though from lowly roots - he was the son of a Putney blacksmith - and he is now both a man of law as well as a rapid adjuster to all political wheeling and dealing, - having first done major, and crucial, employment under Cardinal Wolsey, his majesty's Lord Chancellor. (Prior to that, Cromwell was a mercenary soldier on the Continent). Wolsey will eventually fall from the king's favor for failing to procure a papal annulment for his marriage to Katherine (of Arragon). The ultimate interest within the dramatic aspect of the entire, two-fold story rests in Cromwell's purpose of using his wily version of statecraft to procure a double benefit: secure his own royal position of ascendant authority while seeing to the satisfaction of the king's desires and expectations (prime example: fulfill Henry's effort to divorce Katherine - who has failed to give him a male heir, and marry Anne Boleyn, disregarding Church law in the process). Each part of this Cromwell-Henry relationship is, in part, symbiotic to the other. This reality is redolent of Sir Walter Scott's maxim, "Oh what a tangled web we weave, When first we practice to deceive". Such is the ingredient of insatiable self-interest - in court as in life - that frequently sees no end. Some of the dark consequences resulting from this atmosphere of parlous intrigue will not only include future wife Anne Boleyn's noggin getting the blade (she was charged with adultery), - but in later years Cromwell himself will meet the same exact fate. Thus, "Henry VIII's most faithful servant" as author John Schofield described him, suffered the ultimate penalty for being labeled a traitor and heretic. Both parts of the production are cleanly directed as each scene moves seamlessly to the next, executed through and through with a minimalist, efficient stage design. The characters are all well acted, persuasively; from a coolly lit, collected, and supple Cromwell (Ben Miles) to a headstrong, impetuous King Henry Tudor (Nathaniel Parker). And, knowing that the play's the thing, this is a faithful cast. Actors Paul Jesson as Thomas Wolsey, Lucy Briers as both Katherine of Aragon and Jane Boleyn, Lydia Leonard as Anne Boleyn, and Daniel Fraser as Gregory Cromwell all acquit themselves convincingly. Happily, a long effort of an outing such as this was simultaneously intelligent and refreshing, something utterly not always easy to pull off. One of the evening's many enjoyable lines includes a character (via the appealing Leah Brotherhood) who introduces herself at court as: "I'm nobody, - I'm only Jane Seymour". Indeed. ======================================================================================== "Cry, Trojans" at Saint Ann's Warehouse
Performed by the Wooster GroupApril 2015 This production, touted as being inspired by - or derived from - its collaboration with London's Royal Shakespeare Company for a production of Shakespeare's historical view of the Trojan War, ala "Troilus and Cressida" and now reshaped into "Cry, Trojans" as a new, makeshift effort placing the ancient Greeks of Troy, defending and protecting their legendary Helen, versus all other Greeks of sorts - and done so via improvised and then done so with a modern spin on production values. Presented this way, the whole thing is and always will be a crushing bore, un-deftly "directed" by Elizabeth LeCompte for the Wooster Company. Incorporated into this wired-for-sound miked acting and laborious, de-engerized display of dumb shows and noise are the bits and pieces of 19th century-style American historiana: a Native American teepee slapped together as an all-purpose way station and military base (baseless) for war planners, whilst the milky white skinned principals skitter about - in Native American skimpy-wear - mostly half-elocuting Shakespeare's text while blended with a few current idioms. The sound effects were creative enough, but amid the dreadful stuff "happening" onstage are several overhanging TV monitors showing (volume turned off) black and white film clips of yesteryear - perhaps relating to the pangs of despised love, as in a clip of Warren Beatty and Natalie Wood trying to sort out their deep, wrenching passions for each other, from the motion picture "Splendor in the Grass". As it goes (and it goes heavily), many of the actors play multiple roles, as with Scott Shepherd giving us Troilus, Agamemnon, Helen amd Achilles; Andrew Schneider as Aeneas, Helen, Ulysses, Myrmidon; Kate Valk as Cressida and Helen, and Greg Mehrten (most clear-spoken of all the actors) as Pandarus, Priam, Thersites, and so forth. In all, some scenes in the first act were slightly more appealing than some other scenes, though over-all, it mattered little. The production lacked an active core, from which might have stemmed the juicy fruit of suiting the actions to the words and the words to the action. Anyway, there was no evidence of any Native American members of the cast. How's that for equal opportunity multi-ethnic casting? (I left at the intermission).
- KEVIN MARTIN contact: stannswarehouse.org 866-811-4111 ======================"King Hedley", at Arena Stage in Washington, D.C. February 20, 2015 This production, a tale of poetic woe done in a painful, social setting, is deftly, neatly, and economically staged by Timothy Douglas, and placed in 1985-ish Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania's Hill District of a tattered, run-down backyard - during the economically stingy Reagan years. August Wilson's wondrously epic play, "King Hedley", brims with relevance. In our current time of sporadic race discomfort often imposed on the popular mind by a contentious right-wing, mass-media zealotry, "King Hedley" rings well for its sweeping expression of African-American grit and self-truth. The canvas of Wilson's work is filled with bold strokes of conflict, longing, and seething impulses, - all imbued with a brazen, straightforward humanity. As personified by the very fine, riveting skills of actor Bowman Wright in the title role, this "King Hedley" (an ex-con) captures the audience, body and soul, with a Promethean heat that stays lit to the play's end. Plagued by a nasty, long and permanent scar moving lengthwise on the side of his face down to the neck (courtesy of a prior knife attack while doing prior jail time but also historically reminiscent of the brutal branding of African-American slaves from earlier centuries), the unemployable/unemployed King Hedley yearns for his own brand of respect, but only to be acquired in an illicit context; i.e., working a scam by stealing new refrigerators and then reselling them - not a very inconspicuous activity - but hopefully a somewhat profitable one. His road to making and having money - post prison - is cursed further by Hedley's missteps. The tragedy of doing wrong in the black adult environment of economic and social despair is a palpable one and if you have ever followed the playwright's 20th century decade-sequence of his plays, you would see there are certain traces going back in time in the author's canon in which Wilson resurrects story and plot elements from his other work, "Seven Guitars" set in the 1940s. Fast-forward ahead a few decades and one sees that the interior social fabric of American racism may have changed shape in the national landscape, but it remains as present as ever. The reality offered in "Hedley" persists: the African American experience, over and over, is one that bears institutional entrapment, symbolically and literally, - and which has been horribly nurtured by America's historic racism. In the first act, King Hedley (Wright) soars and roars like a righteous lion set loose in an urban terrain with a piercing monologue that at once articulates his harrowing ordeal for survival and provokes a larger question: will social justice, will societal fairness ever be truly realized? Will the honest notion of a "fair shake" for all, including the less fortunate ever be equalized - in THIS country? This is a great moment of many effective moments in the story. Supported in the great weaving are other fine actors: the brilliant Andre De Shields shines in the opening scenes - and throughout - as Stool Pigeon, beckoning aloud to a certain grand spirit identified as Aunt Esther (366 years old) for needed support. De Shields's Stool Pigeon calls her to our hungry imagination. His is the voice from the busted urban wilderness, guiding our collective process as the drama unfolds. E. Faye Butler does magic as Ruby along with her on-again suitor (Elmore) played with beguiling appeal by Michael Anthony Williams. Their relationship has a deceivingly short fuse attached to it that ends up giving it a sharp, disturbing peak. Jessica Frances Dukes fares quite strongly as a bruised soul lamenting the possibility that her daughter will end up making life mistakes similar to those that she once made. A masterful stroke of persuasive characterization belongs to Kenyatta Rogers who, as "Mister" is an utterly appealing foil to the plot tensions of action and conflict. "King Hedley" is a genuinely powerful story of real America, one that sticks to the memory of anyone willing to pay attention. - KEVIN MARTIN Contact www.arenastage.org
Off-Off-Broadway
Nutcracker Rouge
“Hey you flabby, arm-chair people - after you see "Nutcracker Rouge", get thee to the gym!
Art should inspire, nothing else. It should make you both feel and THINK. "Nutcracker Rouge", presented by Company XIV and directed by Austin McCormick, does that.
T'is the Season that visionary, director, and choreographer Austin McCormick brought to the NY stage a blend of excellence in theatre art, via Pytor Tchaikovsky's timeless "Nutcracker" - with a do-over that works with a sharp, enthusiastic appeal to our present time of social change, ala gender-bending energy and creativity, traditional motifs of style and presentation, and excellence of execution. Combined, you get a holiday treat unexpected, un-threatening, but all engaging. Herewith, thanks to the ensemble's excellence that will stick to your memory for a good while, you will find waiting a complete trove of superb movement, story-telling, dance, and music. McCormick's drive toward the finish line of holiday surprise is on full display, as he boldly, successfully experiments with both new forms and routine expectations. NUTCRACKER musical selections of the original (e.g., Waltz of the Flowers) are given perfect attention and effect as the cast of dancer/characters weave their finely tuned bodies and souls effortlessly through and about the air, allowing this "Nutcracker Rouge" to soar swiftly along in the magically appointed Minetta Lane theatre - and not a Minetta minute too soon. McCormick's magic moves well at nearly each and every moment; by employing a melange of raw-energy acrobatics (raw in its barest sense), classical ballet, French Can-Can, double-entendres freshly expressed, elements of rock, jazz, and night-club vocals, the director helps us to see things differently, perhaps more fascinatingly, than we might have expected. Ribaldry - New York Holiday style, is here to stay. These nearly 2-hours of surprise enjoyment (that's what a creative director should do anyway: surprise us; this is what happens here) go nimbly by, but you will enjoy it. "Nutcracker Rouge" is intelligent, gutsy, and done with sheer originality. The cast and crew deserve high honors for their dedicated, skilled energies and talent. All here are totally professional and giving; to name a few that do this are Laura Careless in the part of Marie Claire, giving her character precise care and vulnerability every step of the way; Shelly Watson as Mrs. Drosselmeyer, in a style of singing this story along with power and grace and enthusiasm, and Ms. Watson does it brilliantly; as Mr. Drosselmeyer, Jeff Takacs is utterly engaging as he works along side Mrs. Drosselmeyer as a "co-host" of sorts - accented by a '70s hard Rock look, realized with perfect humor and intelligence. Also not to be overlooked are Zane Pihlstrom for the exquisite, uncrowded set design (Minetta lane is not a Broadway house), and for giving the story a comforting albeit luring appeal, but always (for lack of a better phrase) sucking us all into the land of Marie Claire/Nutcraker Rouge imagination. Complementing this is the light design from Jeanette Oi-Suk Yew, with a smooth, subtle, and well-thought out arrangement of mood and atmosphere, appropriate to the inventiveness of the director's effort. This production with its cast of physically powerful, soulful, talented commitment is just about flawless. Let it suffice that Tea Party folks, anal types should drag themselves to Minetta Lane for some crazy, funny, sensual, surprising entertainment - if you think you can still get a TICKET. 'Ya better hurry, last performance is Jan. 5.”- Kevin Martin
Art should inspire, nothing else. It should make you both feel and THINK. "Nutcracker Rouge", presented by Company XIV and directed by Austin McCormick, does that.
T'is the Season that visionary, director, and choreographer Austin McCormick brought to the NY stage a blend of excellence in theatre art, via Pytor Tchaikovsky's timeless "Nutcracker" - with a do-over that works with a sharp, enthusiastic appeal to our present time of social change, ala gender-bending energy and creativity, traditional motifs of style and presentation, and excellence of execution. Combined, you get a holiday treat unexpected, un-threatening, but all engaging. Herewith, thanks to the ensemble's excellence that will stick to your memory for a good while, you will find waiting a complete trove of superb movement, story-telling, dance, and music. McCormick's drive toward the finish line of holiday surprise is on full display, as he boldly, successfully experiments with both new forms and routine expectations. NUTCRACKER musical selections of the original (e.g., Waltz of the Flowers) are given perfect attention and effect as the cast of dancer/characters weave their finely tuned bodies and souls effortlessly through and about the air, allowing this "Nutcracker Rouge" to soar swiftly along in the magically appointed Minetta Lane theatre - and not a Minetta minute too soon. McCormick's magic moves well at nearly each and every moment; by employing a melange of raw-energy acrobatics (raw in its barest sense), classical ballet, French Can-Can, double-entendres freshly expressed, elements of rock, jazz, and night-club vocals, the director helps us to see things differently, perhaps more fascinatingly, than we might have expected. Ribaldry - New York Holiday style, is here to stay. These nearly 2-hours of surprise enjoyment (that's what a creative director should do anyway: surprise us; this is what happens here) go nimbly by, but you will enjoy it. "Nutcracker Rouge" is intelligent, gutsy, and done with sheer originality. The cast and crew deserve high honors for their dedicated, skilled energies and talent. All here are totally professional and giving; to name a few that do this are Laura Careless in the part of Marie Claire, giving her character precise care and vulnerability every step of the way; Shelly Watson as Mrs. Drosselmeyer, in a style of singing this story along with power and grace and enthusiasm, and Ms. Watson does it brilliantly; as Mr. Drosselmeyer, Jeff Takacs is utterly engaging as he works along side Mrs. Drosselmeyer as a "co-host" of sorts - accented by a '70s hard Rock look, realized with perfect humor and intelligence. Also not to be overlooked are Zane Pihlstrom for the exquisite, uncrowded set design (Minetta lane is not a Broadway house), and for giving the story a comforting albeit luring appeal, but always (for lack of a better phrase) sucking us all into the land of Marie Claire/Nutcraker Rouge imagination. Complementing this is the light design from Jeanette Oi-Suk Yew, with a smooth, subtle, and well-thought out arrangement of mood and atmosphere, appropriate to the inventiveness of the director's effort. This production with its cast of physically powerful, soulful, talented commitment is just about flawless. Let it suffice that Tea Party folks, anal types should drag themselves to Minetta Lane for some crazy, funny, sensual, surprising entertainment - if you think you can still get a TICKET. 'Ya better hurry, last performance is Jan. 5.”- Kevin Martin
MANIPULATION
This "MANIPULATION " is a form of seduction. Cristina's World (Who's the puppeteer and who's the puppet)? Review by Kevin Martin
“Mexican-born Victoria E. Calderon (I have never heard of her 'til now, but I am very glad I did) has written a little gem of a new play - a mere 70 + minutes long, and it shines. Directed with lightning sensitivity and worked through (good, REAL acting is work) by an utterly fine cast, this scenically well-designed, enchantingly sounded, excellently costumed, smartly lighted 'MANIPULATION" in fact shines - glows - on all sides in this production.
“Mexican-born Victoria E. Calderon (I have never heard of her 'til now, but I am very glad I did) has written a little gem of a new play - a mere 70 + minutes long, and it shines. Directed with lightning sensitivity and worked through (good, REAL acting is work) by an utterly fine cast, this scenically well-designed, enchantingly sounded, excellently costumed, smartly lighted 'MANIPULATION" in fact shines - glows - on all sides in this production.
Taking place (somewhere) in the faux-modernist, expensive apartment of Cristina and Mauricio in Latin America, 'MANIPULATION" bespeaks itself metaphorically, perhaps, of the unrest curdling through at least some of the daily lives of women, as personalized in the experience of one Cristina (adroitly felt by actor Marina Squerciati). Fatherless Cristina, the main protagonist of this sparkler, is married very young to the very moneyed, successful Mauricio. As far as I am concerned, - and partly excepting Cristina's poor-ritzy mother's view of the world (this role of Beatriz is played luminously by Saundra Santiago), this is not a "feminist" play; but, rather, a sort of "marriagist" one: the belief that marriage, still a must-try thing to do in society, leaves many spouses believing in, and fearful of, being locked in - though often admitting furtively that the institution of marriage is really just all too much, and all too other-centered for some folks to bear. Yes, we can all be quite selfish at times.
Mauricio applies his manly-ish, husbandly interest (ala "you have all the money you need") toward lonesome, under loved Cristina with that oft-infamous carnal habit of quick get-it-over-with sex, while all the while offering patchy assurances of his love, Mauricio-wise speaking. But Mauricio, as rendered by the perfectly-tuned craft of Robert Bogue, is a guy with his own problems. In fact, it really isn't ONLY Cristina who is lonely (she lives out all her deeply repressed needs and regrets with high wired mental flashes that are the actual play itself); everyone is lonely. I am lonely, you are lonely, we are all lonely, even if we do love, for love sometimes goes missing from life's emotional tool box. Cristina hooks up with Luis (done extremely right by Rafi Silver) a gifted pianist with hands that only a Cristina could love but which speaks volumes of her erstwhile lonely marriage. And so, 'MANIPULATION" makes me wonder - reminds me again, that there may not be any exit from this field of occasional, sometimes strangeness we call living, and that whether there are ghouls standing by us as we continue our daily function or whether there is something better than this, who knows? There are literally a few ghoulish types lurking in Cristina's world, to be sure. Cristina, who later finds respite in Poeta (a young, impoverished poet, so-named, and done just right by Brendan McMahon), goes to see a shrink and tells him that she fears her husband. As a possible comment on modern therapy - and medication - the shrink does not really help Cristina, and instead exasperates the same fear she feels toward Mauricio. The shrink, "Dr. Lublitz" is deftly brought out by Jeremy Stiles Holmes, and he's quite a shrink, and indeed, is clearly unfulfilled himself, no less. As per Cristina's lament to Dr. Lublitz, well, therein lies the rub; how can we love something, or someone, that we fear? Alas, we really can't, and don't. The dramatic effects by the exquisite light and sound work almost perfectly; one very minuscule complaint is that the lighting transitions were ever so slightly long.
If a dream itself is but a shadow, then this "MANIPULATION" casts a big one; Cristina's vivid dream reflection of living is painful and true. We see, at play's end, that Cristina is in a museum (what better place is there to house the human condition?) gazing into a very famous painting that, ideally or otherwise, sums up her existential woe. What she sees, and observes, in some certain measure, is all of us, you and me, - and it's not pretty.
All the actors, including Gabriel Furman as Alejandro, have made it clear: the play's the thing.”
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