The Last Five Years
By Jason Brown
Directed by Wade Hair
Musical Direction by Justin Scarlat
Starring Rob Guest Jr. and Erynn Hair
Breakthrough Theatre, Winter Park, FL

Sex – it always seems like a good idea at the time, but sometimes the novelty fades when you both grow up. Jamie (Guest) is an up and coming writer, Cathy (Hair) is an actress with summer stock potential. Their romance is told both forward and backward with Jamie’s thread progressing from infatuation into marriage to break up while Cathy begins at misery and backtracks to euphoria. Jamie is obsessed with getting a goyish girlfriend and Cathy wants out of small town Ohio and you sense they might have issues when you notice there’s only one song they really share. The issues are basic: Jamie is all about Jamie; Cathy is all about true love and martyring herself to an emotionally distant guy. I sympathize with the characters, but if they asked me out for drinks I’d fake a kidney stone.

Erynn Hair has all the good songs, and has the better voice to deliver them with. “A Summer in Ohio”, “Goodbye Until Tomorrow” and “Climbing Up Hill” all resonate well in Breakthrough’s intimate space, and Jamie’s big numbers “Shiksa Goddess” and “Nobody Needs to Know” are good but not as memorable. He projects well enough but his teeth are in some sort of grimace and he seems uncomfortable being such cad to his wife and girlfriend. I was unimpressed with the backing music; the six piece band called out in the script was replaced with a single prerecorded piano. It wasn’t so much the stripped down sound that bothered me, but there are long passages where a single plink plink plink keeps up the beat while the actors sing though to the bridge. If there’s an uncanny valley of musical arrangement, the folks at Musical Theatre International found it. While this show seems to get a production every other year it’s justifiably a perennial favorite and the gimmick for this run is a different cast each weekend. Future casts include Sarah Ross and Justin Nickerson, Krystal Gillette and Sage Starkey and Jolie Hart and Adam McCabe. Your mileage may vary.

For more information, please visit http://www.breakthroughtheatre.com

Flight of the Earls
By Christopher Humble
Directed by John DiDonna
Starring Stephen Lima, Chris Prueitt, Marty Stonerock and Becky Eck
Lima/Stonerock Productions, The Empty Spaces Theatre Co(llaboration), DiDonna Productions
The Lowndes Shakespeare Center, Orlando FL

Really, the only way to win a war is with overwhelming force. Otherwise, you’re stuck negotiating or taking pot shots at each other until your great-great-grandchildren forget what the original issues was in the first. That’s the situation in Northern Ireland, and the brothers Michael (Lima) and Ian Earl (Prueitt) are kingpins of the Irish Republican Army. They smuggle weapons and bribe jailers and build nail bombs when they aren’t fixing trucks or digging secret underground bunkers. Ian is the slightly more ruthless one; he’s ready to send unsuspecting relatives off to blow up a random bus stop while Michael struggles against the love of a good but deluded woman. That would be peace loving Bridgette, (Eck) she wants them to move to America and away from the war but Michael exclaims sarcastically: “That’s a fine thing, to be an Irishman in America!” I checked a week or two ago, I think he’d have plenty of company at that bar near Rollins. Things are tense but under control until missing brother Keith (John Bateman) appears, he’s more qualified to be cannon fodder than a cover revolutionary and he blows everyone’s cover. Body parts are about to fly.

The blood and violence isn’t nicely hidden behind the arras in this gut wrenching show. Here’s an example: mother Kate (Stonerock) brings the war in County Tyrone into her dining room – she’s 110% Irish and not afraid to shoot anyone. She also gives this neutronium heavy show a bit of levity; she got through most of a bottle of whiskey “One Small One” at a time and bemoans “This family used to drink together” when dinner plans fall through. Becky Eck is what passes for a calm center, she’s strong and principled and as rugged as her sensible wool skirt. While Pruitt is cold hearted and blood thirsty, Lima takes the prize for intensity – no one does intense like Stephen Lima. Under DiDonna’s direction he carefully balances his demonic visage, bloody beliefs and somehow still keeps you believing he really does love Bridgette.

While Tommy Mangieri’s set doesn’t actually smell of Bushmill’s or peat smoke, it looks homey and ancient and just the sort of place people in the kitchen can hear critical plot points going on in the dining room. Just as you would expect, this show pulls no punches as it plows through the trade people make between family loyalty and deeply held causes. The difference between nail bombing a police station or driving a vest full of explosives into a NATO convoy is simply one of time and place. There’s an element of desperation, and maybe negotiations can’t begin until all the hot heads have finished killing themselves.

For more information on Empty Spaces Theater Company, visit http://www.emptyspacestheatre.org

Private Lives
By Noel Coward
Directed by Timothy Williams
Mad Cow Theatre, Orlando FL

Most married couples take 20 or 30 year to reach this level of dysfunction, but Sibyl (Sara Jane Fridlich) and Elyot Chase (Philip Nolen) can’t get through a honeymoon without splitting up. The proximate cause is their next door neighbors at the Hotel Notel: Victor (Kevin Zepf) and his new bride Amanda (Jennifer Christa Palmer) inconveniently move into the suite next door and Amanda is Elyot’s ex. While they split unamicably five years ago, some of that old flame remains and no pair of fighter have been so evenly matched since the Lewis – Holyfield match. They jab, they duck, they spit, they kiss and make up and run off together, tradition and paper work be damned. But you know it will be rough and their Parisian love nest is soon littered with broken furniture and smashed plastic glassware, and the reality becomes obvious – they both need a proper sparring partner and those other two are simply lightweights. Maybe Victor and Sibyl can work something out; everyone is very “progressive” in this nifty little farce.

There are a LOT of words here and almost all of them can bring laughter. Nolan is a nice guy with an edge; Zepf is pompous and overbearing and really should be hunting grouse in the Transvaal. This play hinges on chemistry, and the Nolan / Palmer mix worked wonderfully and once Palmer was in her very modest PJ’s the two really let fly. You’ll feel sorry for flighty Sibyl – she kept asking about Amanda not knowing its best to let sleeping romances lie. Everything was very elegant on stage from the hula hoop festooned hotel balcony to the grand piano the stage crew wrestles in for the last half of the show. I recommend sitting in for the first intermission, the set change was like watching a circus set up. You can grab a refreshment in the second intermission; you’ll need it to feel as “progressive” as the action on stage. “Progressive” is upper class talk for having sex without the proper paper work and while you’re unlikely to find Private Lives that all that shocking today, it made quite an impression on the Lord Chamberlain in 1930. There’s plenty to like here – you’ve got sex, champagne, wealthy people acting like idiots, sparkly dresses and some of the best bitchy stage fighting in town. This is an occasion worth dressing up for.

For more information on Mad Cow, please visit http://www.madcowtheatre.com

Broadway At War!
Directed by Joshua Bramkamp
Choreographed by Angelyn Rhode
The Princess Theatre, Sanford FL

War is hell, and sometimes it takes a long time to get news from the front. But when it arrives ignore the vintage newspaper style flyer; this show is NOT The Andrews Sisters channeling Glenn Miller. Even its relation to military conflict is occasionally a bit obscure, you have to sit down and think how songs from “Jekyll and Hyde,” “Urinetown” and “Ragtime” all relate. Be aware you can hurt you brain thinking about stuff like that, better to just sit back and enjoy this cleverly staged review.

Voices can get lost in the cavernous Princess Theatre but they sound fine if a bit distant, and if you’re hard of hearing the dancing is nicely done courtesy of Choreographer Rhode. Bracketing the show are a pair of songs from “Hair” done ensemble – both “Aquarius” and “Flesh Failure / Let the Sun Shine In” were populated by long haired hippies dancing like they’re at a Grateful Dead show. Actually, they were better dancers; real hippies didn’t have ambitions to be great on stage, it run contrary to their philosophy. “Cabaret” gave us two songs: Tara Corless’s sexy lament “Maybe This Time” and a laconic “Money” from Andrew Emery and his two accompanying rent boys. The one singer who conquered this hall was Jamaal Solomon; even across that long concrete arena he got my attention with Ragtime’s “Make Them Hear You” and “Bui Doi” from Miss Saigon. Josh Bramkamp directed and somehow got most of the leads with two cuts from “Jesus Christ Super Star” a duet with Natasha Harrison on a track from “The Scarlet Pimpernel” and a front and center role in the ensemble “One More Day” from Les Miserables. Ignore the low sound levels and the even lower internal temperatures, and this was a thoroughly enjoyable evening. There may be a war on, but the people not fighting face to face still have time for some snappy dresses and beautiful arrangements. Here’s a tip: next time you visit this cute performance space in the bustle of First Street Sanford, sit on the side so you can see the sound booth. That show can be almost as much fun as the one you official paid to see.

For more information on The Princess Theatre, please visit http://www.celerysoupsanford.com/princess-theater/

Man of La Mancha
By Dale Wasserman, Joe Darrion, Mitch Leigh
Directed by Stephen Halpin and Kari Negron
Musical Direction by Don Hopkinson
Starring Travis Eaton, Jonny Corzo, Jaclyn Leal
Baggy Pants Theatre at JCC of Greater Orlando, Maitland, FL

There is nothing like the folly of an old man, and Cervantes’ “Don Quixote” is the best example out there. In this musical adaptation (there’s a half dozen operas and a stack of film versions as well) we find Miguel Cervantes (Eaton) and his side kick (Corzo) tossed in a dungeon and waiting trial by the Spanish Inquisition. But first there’s a trial by other prisoners – they don’t have much legal standing but without it there wouldn’t be much of a show. Like bullies in high school, the “judge” finds Cervantes’ manuscript and threatens to burn it since he can’t read. Cervantes fights back, staging an impromptu show to explain the virtues of the written word and the joy of live theatre. Naturally, he plays Quixote, his sidekick plays Sancho and a fiery Ms. Leal is his dream girl Dulcinea and pious Victor Souffrant as the Padre. Quixote starts by attacking the windmill, then chastely courts Dulcinea and hijacks the Barber’s (Justin Jones) gold colored bowl for his “Golden Helmet of Mambrino.” Of course the windmill is off stage, Dulcinea is a girl of negotiable virtue, and the Barber needs his bowl back, but we are now deep inside Quixote’s fantasy of noble Knights and marginal magic. Yeah, he’s delusional, but the illusion is much more fun than his reality.

But you came to hear someone belt ‘The Impossible Dream,” didn’t you? That’s OK, the song appears three times and Mr. Eaton fills the room. He’s pretty good at everything, including his “Dulcinea” which gets a reprise by Ms Leal. The Muleteers looks cute in their rubber mule heads and when they take them off the sing “Little Bird” twice and you wonder about all this reprising – while you get to hear the hits twice, it feels like the musical team of Darrion and Leigh are just doubling down on their big numbers. Corzo’s Sancho seemed a bit too wide eyed for me; his singing was fine but he needs not just insane loyalty, but a bit of insanity himself. Padre Souffrant has a great nice church voice; “Psalm” could have opened for the Pope on his current world tour. Tonight the band was on stage and in costume with musical director Don Hopkins and his Grand Piano poking onstage from the general direction of the invisible windmill. The set (Lily Helm) was minimal and largely served to give the resting actors a place to hang out until their next scene. All the real action took place on a few rehearsal cubes – a minimal set and some good music can carry you a long way.

For more information on Baggy Pants Theatre, please visit http://www.baggypantstheater.com

Red
By John Logan
Directed by Patrick Flick
Starring Buddy Haardt and John Herrera
Orlando Shakespeare Theatre, Orlando FL

At the pinnacle of his career, Mark Rothko (Herrera) retreats to his dark studio to contemplate himself as if he were his own mandala. With a big commission in hand from the sort of evil people who can afford his art, he takes on an assistant “Ken.”(Haardt) While he clearly states the job requirements (sweep floors, clean paint brushes, some light scullery duty) one thing is very clear – Ken is NOT doing art. Fair enough. The boy has aspirations but needs to apprentice, Rothko is lonely and needs to talk. And talk he does, burying us under his philosophy about art, life and art collectors. Per Rothko, to make great art you must understand color theory and religion and read Nietzsche and Jung and have the ability to stare for days at you own work and despise anyone who buys, exhibits or collects it. Make no mistake; it takes more effort than you could image to make a wall size painting consisting of two rectangles of nearly solid color. Rothko’s explanation draws attention both inside and outside the theatre. People in a completely different show across the hall complained: “They keep yelling ‘Red’ in there. What’s going on? Are they fighting?”

What going on is one of the strongest shows in this season’s Shakespeare schedule. Herrera’s bull faced artist isn’t just loud, he’s opinionated and since he’s paid the big bucks, his opinions count for a lot. It’s true he’s full of hot air, pretense, contradiction and self delusion and Ken throws it all back in his face. This promising apprentice begins with a vague desire “to paint” and learns everything but brush technique from Rothko – self promotion, shouting down the opposition, and the fine points of becoming a color Nazi. In a telling scene, he brings in a painting to show the master, but it never gets unwrapped. That’s really the point: what you paint is pretty much unimportant as long as you can sell yourself.

You can’t talk about this show without talking about light. Rothko hates the light of the sun, plein air painting gives him hives and he can’t deal with the ants getting in the gesso. Rothko rightly demands that his work stay in dim light and lighting director Eric Haugen obliges. An early painting glimmers in mysterious red on black looking like a ghost or a tree but when the harsh work lights come up; their fluorescence washes away the mystery, leaving ugly streaks of mismatched colors. But switch back to some dimmed gels and the mystery returns. Art is all about the show, whether it only runs four weekends or if it hangs in a gallery for decades until it falls out of fashion.

Painting has never recovered from the introduction of photography which completely solved the problem of “making it look real.” With reality conquered, unreality was the final frontier and the art of oil and tempera drifted from symbolic realism into the deserts of abstract expressionism, color field, and pop art. The results have been fun and sparked endless arguments fought with cheese cubes and cheap white wine at gallery openings but art as Rothko defined is as transient as a hair style or a pop band. Rothko ranked himself with Turner and Rembrandt and maybe he’ll get his wings someday, but Google his pictures today and maybe you’ll think what I did: “How quaint!”

For more information on Orlando Shakespeare Theater, visit
http://www.orlandoshakes.org

A Street Car Named Desire
By Tennessee Williams
Directed by Frank Hilgenberg
Starring Steven Pugh, Rachel Comeau, Michelle Procopio, Cory Boughton
Theatre Downtown, Orlando Florida

Nothing is harder than letting go, and the longer you delay it the worse it becomes. Stella Dubois Kowalski (Comeau) bailed early – the family estate was mortgage to the termites, and New Orleans offered opportunities better than memories. Blanche Dubois (Procopio) stuck behind to bury the ancestors and screw the solider up at Camp Shelby, but tonight she shows up broke and elegant on Stella’s doorstep. Stella went for vigor over pedigree and her hubby Stanley (Pugh) sweats for a living, drinks whiskey from the bottle, and makes Stella scream with lust. But Blanche is shocked, proper southern women don’t acknowledge orgasms and do their best to hide them under lavender powder and $12 an ounce perfume. (You know the type – they sit in front of you in church after it’s too late to find a better smelling pew.) Blanche’s unwanted intrusion puts Stanley in a tree and then she throws rhinestone tiaras at him – she drinks his booze, dominates his bathroom and tries to talk his wife into leaving him if only to validate her martyrdom to family. In her mind two Southern Belles starving together looks better than one Southern Belle breeding with a swarthy immigrant. While Blanche is slightly past her Sell By date, Harold Mitchell (Boughton) is the straw she graps in her personal windstorm, and if only Stan would cut the couple some slack they could have some sort of happiness.

While this production is rather long (two intermissions and some lengthy scene transitions) it uses that time wisely to deliver the full power of the story. Procopio’s Blanch seemed less fragile than conniving and while she acts horrified by Stanley’s sexuality you sense she’s secretly jealous. Pugh’s Stanley oozes sweat and anger – he and Stella had a perfectly fine life until the past came back and couldn’t even pay its meager rent. Boughton’s clean and sober Mitch could have made a life with Blanche but she made a strategic error – rather than exploit his morality she offended it. And the supporting cast surely deserves mention – Cira Larkin and Harold Longway lovingly represent what Mitch and Blanche could have been while Anthony Vito and Inge Uys represent the world outside this un air-conditioned universe: they come in when sex, violence and shame can no longer regulate home life to apply the Thorazine and electroshock.

If you’ve seen this before, you know where all this bonhomie leads, and if not I’ll just say Stan and Stella continue their sweaty lives after Blanche overplays her hand and fades away without the convenience of a decent casket. This is the last gasp of the imperial Old South – success goes to those willing to work and sweat, and the remnants of the old guard who spent the family fortune in their last grand fornication disappoint their children. And Miss Blanche – well, she was the grandest fornicator of the lot.

For more information on Theatre Downtown, please visit http://www.theatredowntown.net

The Foreigner
By Larry Shue
Directed by Jay Hopkins
Starring Keith Smith, Elizabeth Murff, William Hagaman
Jester Theater at The Garden Theatre, Winter Garden, FL

It takes some cojones to mount a KKK sitcom right here in the heart of the old Lynching Belt, but it makes for a damn funny show with an evil streak darker than blackstrap molasses. Mopy Charlie Barker (Smith) flees his nympho wife in the UK, she’s sleeping with everyone on the M-25 to prove a point: Charlie is dull. Charlie’s Special Forces sapper buddy “Froggy” LeSueur (Warriner) hauls him to a rural Georgia fishing lodge run by his old friend Betty Meeks (Murff.) A depressed Charlie doesn’t feel like talking so Froggy tells everyone Charlie doesn’t speak English. Soon Charlie is up to his neck in intrigue: Reverend Lee (Brett Waldon) plots to buy the property cheap as he courts Betty’s daughter Catherine (Gemma Fearn) and Owen Messer (Don Fowler) rallies the local Klan to do what the Klan does best: bully anyone they can outnumber. It falls to simple minded Eland (William Hagaman) to save the day by leveraging Charlie’s fakey accented speech against Messer’s depressed IQ.

Like all good farces, the first act sets things up and the second knocks them down. Murff is great as the acidic but loving little old lady, Warriner’s cheery accent recalls Mr. Balowski from “The Young Ones,” and Waldon’s preacher man looks like he’s going to end up preaching from prison like St Paul, but not necessarily with God on his side. Fowler looks like he smells of bait and stale beer, but his barely hidden violence is always near the surface and he’s the sort of guy who only sits in chairs backwards. While everyone oozes gags, the Charlie – Ellard axis pushes this show from Funny to Jay Hopkins Funny. Ellard simple mindedly “teaches” Charlie his native tongue in shockingly short time; only a science fiction robot could pick up the local lingo this quickly. Ellard isn’t smart, but sometimes smart isn’t what you need to defeat evil. Smith ignores Owens’s abuse and charms Betty and the audience with a smile and a wink. But what makes all this an exceptional comedy is the gun toting KKK invasion. This is a dark, scary moment and at some point you think “Hey! This isn’t funny at all!” But once we’re though that Valley of Heavy Handed Plot Points, there a happy ending and everyone get their just dessert. On one level this is a silly door slamming farce, but there’s some real heart behind the story and ‘The Foreigner” is a comedy that makes you think. Happily, it had a surprising full house on opening night, and I advise you get out to see it early, I suspect it might sell out, and it’s worth the drive to the western sprawl of Orange County.

For more information on The Garden Theatre, please visit www.gardentheatre.org

For more information on Jester Theater Company, please visit www.gardentheatre.org

Edward Remixed and Retold
Created and Choreographed by Willy Marchante
Casting Shadows Productions and Wanzie Presents
Footlights Theatre, Orlando FL

Turing a Johnny Depp movie into a dance piece is an unusual choice but a surprisingly effective one. Local dance maestro Willy Marchante squeezes his little troupe onto the Footlights stage which has barely enough room for a Michael Wanzie comedy and took us for a magical ride into a dark story. Depp’s portrayal of the misfit Edward Scissors hands is universal; like Edward all we want is acceptance despite our personal oddities. Edward’s (Marchante) sharp and dangerous appendages make his difference hard to hide, and his skin tight black body suit doesn’t help when everyone else is in polo shirts and penny loafers. He’s discovered by a nosy real estate agent (Rachel Brown) investigating a large creepy castle, the courted by Sarah Fanok and Darci Ricciardi and finally despised by Steve Johnson. I don’t think Ron Banks or Nic “Monkey” Grady liked him much either, but they had to focus on their dance moves and has little time for axiciaphobia.

While the motion was compressed and Marchante nearly disappeared behind the upper curtain when performing on his scaffolding, the dance was intriguing and the costumes outstanding. Everyone could follow the broad outlines of the story although having seen the movie didn’t hurt. What did hurt was the blasting sound track; the show was lip synced and the volume painfully high. Song transitions were often abrupt and danced across a smorgasbord of styles: I see how the lyrics fit each mood, but the jump cuts were a bit much. I’m not sure if Dancing to the Movies is Americas next big craze, but it does give the performance a coherence and order that many modern dance troupe lack. “Edward Remixed and Retold” is a clever show, well performed and dripping with potential if they can clean up the sound. While there’s one more performance left I can see this reappearing at some local theater festival or another and the concept could certainly work with any number of other well known films.

For more information on the Footlights Theater, please visit http://www.theparlimenthouse.com or http://www.Wanzie.com

Spotlight Cabaret: Lulu Picard
Musical Direction by Kyle Mattingly
March 7, 2012
Winter Park Playhouse, Winter Park FL

Go to a Winter Park Playhouse cabaret, and you might hear some Kander and Ebb, a tune from hits like “South Pacific” or obscurities like “Steel Pier,” or even God forbid something from “Cats.” But tonight we had none of that, local piano player and song stylist and recent Princess Mulan in the blistering “Bitches of the Kingdom” announced “This is the future of musical theater.” All songs on the program are brand new, and all written by various friends of Ms Picard. And there IS a different sound here, a sound influenced by the strands of indie pop in the air, strands that will lead us past the current Disney Sound of “Lion King” and “Finding Nemo.” Alex Oyen’s “I Miss Those Nights” and “Life’s Funny” opened the set, both with complex lyrics and an upbeat tone. Blues from Carol Stein, music form vibraphone whiz Christian Tambor, and plaintive missives from Justin Fischer all made for a pleasant set and interesting talking points. The hit of the evening came from Dennis Giancarlo and Fiely Matthias, writers of the above mentioned proto hit. In Mulan’s Song they have Mulan sing “I’m one flannel shirt shy of being a Lesbian.” It nearly brought down the house and made me think: THAT’S entertainment!

For more information on Winter Park Playhouse, please visit http://www.winterparkplayhouse.org