Woman Around Town’s Editor Charlene Giannetti and writers for the website talk with the women and men making news in New York, Washington, D.C., and other cities around the world. Thanks to Ian Herman for his wonderful piano introduction.
In 1989, animator and former marine biologist Stephen Hillenburg wrote an unpublished educational comic book titled The Intertidal Zone. Ten years later, his original concept became a Nickelodeon television series that has ballooned into the highest rated show on the roster of MTV Networks generating thirteen billion dollars – you read correctly – in merchandising revenue. The so-called children’s story has a wry/sarcastic/sometimes idiotic edge attracting at least as many adults to dedicated viewing.
For the uninitiated: SpongeBob (Ethan Slater, who, in his Broadway debut, has to currently be the hardest working musical actor treading the boards) is the naively cheerful offspring of a sea sponge and a kitchen sponge-don’t ask. Our hero lives with his pet snail Gary (who meows) in a pineapple at the bottom of the sea. The young invertebrate works as fry cook at Krusty Krab Restaurant where he dreams of becoming a manager. Neighbors are dim, best friend Patrick Star (Danny Skinner-imagine John Candy with ducktail hair) and co-worker Squidward Q. Tentacles (Gavin Lee) a bad tempered, pessimistic octopus who lives in an Easter Island Moai.
Danny Skinner and Ethan Slater
Other regular characters include SB’s boss, miserly Eugene Krabs (Brian Ray Norris) and his teenage daughter, Pearl (Jai’Len Christine Li Josey whose R & B vocals shake the rafters), the Texas born squirrel Sandy Cheeks (Lilli Cooper) a scientist who lives in an oak tree covered by an airtight glass dome outside of which she wears an astronaut’s suit (no idea how she got there), Sheldon Plankton (Wesley Taylor and a puppet), a small, green pickle-looking character with a Napoleon complex who owns fast food competitor Chum Bucket and, with his robot wife, Karen (Stephanie Hsu), schemes to steal the recipe for Krabby Patties… Intrigued?
It’s easy to conjecture that Set/Costume Designer David Zinn (with ebullient Lighting Design by Kevin Adams) has never had a better time with a commission. From the moment one enters the transformed Palace Theatre, attention is beguiled. Shimmering, Mylar strip curtains cover everything vertical except the stage. An amusing video of underwater life (Peter Nigrini) plays across the pineapple-patterned curtain. As you’re serenaded by Hawaiian-shirted musicians beside an inflated palm tree, look carefully around. Coral is made out of wonderful assemblages of pool noodles and oversized party cups, there are sharks.
Ethan Slater
Huge blue bubbles arch over and drip down from the proscenium. Colorful Rube Goldberg-like mechanisms run almost floor to ceiling on either side of the stage. Watching these ingenious set pieces kick into precise action is sheer delight.
“Let us observe how the sun rises on a new day…” begins a French accented Narrator – a tribute to Jacques Cousteau? (Tom Kenny).
The plot of this iteration (there have been two films) revolves around a volcano threatening to destroy Bikini Bottom. “Ladies and Gentlefish,” cries the Mayor (Gaelen Gilliland), “We need somebody to save us!” Suggestions range from sacrificing to the volcano to Patrick’s “Let’s all close our eyes and maybe it won’t happen.”A clock starts ticking.
Wesley Taylor and The Company
Plankton seizes the moment to convince panicked citizens they must have an escape pod built and flee, establishing a new community (called Chumville) elsewhere. He intends to collectively hypnotize his fellow townsmen into Chum Bucket customers while becoming a hero. A Shellathon will be produced to raise money.
There’s a gathering that looks like undersea Barnum, a skateboarding punk rock band, a hip hop number, and one where sea anemones in pink sequins and feathers become unisex showgirls behind Squidward’s big, dedicated-to-mama, bring-the-house-down performance – a highlight.) Can Plankton’s dastardly plan be stopped?! It’s up to SpongeBob, Patrick, and Sandy to find a way!
Those dedicated to Bikini Bottom and its inhabitants may be reassured that depicting the beloved characters without unwieldy costumes actually works. Along with the uber-creative Zinn, Hair Designer Charles G. Laponte and Make-Up Designer Joe DuludeI II help actors display just enough in tandem with characterization to bring the cartoon world to life. Ultimate credit goes to Director Tina Landau whose eye and ear for detail adds credibility and whose imaginative staging captivates. Wait until you see the volcano!
Lilli Cooper and Ethan Slater
Though SpongeBob is neither yellow not square, the terrific, multitalented Ethan Slater gives him just the right Pollyanna attitude and youthful inflection. Lithe, limber movement worthy of an acrobat puts the unwitting sponge in positions one might more easily draw. Danny Skinner’s Patrick exhibits dopey, sincere expression and comic delivery that reflect the obtuse starfish like a mirror.
Gavin Lee ably manages Squidward’s four legs (a construction of genius) which bend like his own, striking poses and skillfully tap dancing. The actor’s Eyeore-like tone embodies his octopus perfectly, while hands curl backwards like the animation. Brian Ray Norris’s oversized boxing glove-like claws and perpetually bent arms ride tandem with Mr. Krab’s gravelly bluster. I found Lilli Cooper’s Sandy a bit too grounded and Wesley Taylor’s Plankton oily, but unfamiliar. Sound effects made by and for the group also put us in their world. The cast, to a person, sings well.
Gavin Lee and The Company
Kyle Jarrow’s book employs signature expressions, expanding and embroidering while maintaining unique personalities. The show represents prejudice, friendship, community, confidence, and courage as much as immersing itself in fun.
Christopher Gattelli creates a wide range of high spirited choreography replete with fish-like gesture.
The musical’s problem, ignored by ninety percent of this exuberant audience, is its music and lyrics (arranged/orchestrated by Tom Kitt) which are almost uniformly generic/cliché. One would assume among the wide range of pop and rock contributors, someone would have availed him/herself of the wealth of fantastical specifics. Lack of context might be explained by drawing on material written before the show. It didn’t work for Sting in an otherwise worthy vehicle and was part of the reason for the failure of Woody Allen’s Bullets Over Broadway.
The Company
If you’re not already familiar with the show and its characters, watch a few episodes or lose a great deal. There’s LOTS to look at and enjoy, but wouldn’t you think…
Photos by Joan Marcus Opening: Ethan Slater-left Lilli Cooper, right Danny Skinner and Brian Ray Norris
SpongeBob SquarePants -The Broadway Musical Based on the series by Stephen Hillenburg Book by Kyle Jarrow Co-concieved and Directed by Tina Landau The Palace Theatre 1564 Broadway at 47th Street
The main reason to see this reworked 2013 play is, if curious, Uma Thurman. This is not to say the actress is brilliant, or that veterans Josh Lucas and Blair Brown don’t outshine her, but rather that she rises admirably to her first stage appearance and is, as always, a pleasure to look at. It can’t hurt that Chloe fits the succession of confident, calculating beauties with which Thurman established her reputation. This particular role might’ve been written for her; the character’s awareness of power and sexuality is pervasive.
Una Thurman, Blair Brown, Phillipa Soo
Chloe (Uma Thurman) is the Washington, D.C. leisure class wife of Tom (the always excellent Josh Lucas), a successful tax lawyer with seemingly sudden aspirations towards judgeship on the court of appeals. Though most of his clients are Republicans, Tom and Chloe remain quietly liberal. They have – spoiler alert – an open marriage.
Peter, a British banker friend of the couple is Chloe’s latest besotted lover. The completely credible Marton Csokas manages to make jealous apoplexy touching. We see Chloe’s boredom. Bristling at Peter’s increasing possessiveness, she’s withdrawing. Despite successive dalliances, it’s clear Chloe and Tom love and understand one another. His learning about Peter hardly ruffles conversation.
Uma Thurman, Blair Brown
A second affair is kept secret for several reasons, not the least of which is plot device. Later, it becomes instrumental in securing what the couple respectively desires most – mid life purpose, Chloe’s in her mate’s career, his, ostensibly in affecting social justice (one wonders about his commitment). To the author’s credit, there are several well placed surprises.
Also enmeshed in Tom and Chloe’s ambitions are Republican politico/hostess Jeanette (Blair Brown), incipient head of the Federal Reserve and her Harvard Law educated daughter Rebecca (a sympathetic Phillipa Soo), who has her own Democratic, governmental trajectory. Brown has a helluva time with her portrayal of the kind of old school conservative dame who’s under the delusion that our president will eventually tow party line. A two-handed dramatic scene towards the end of the play is a highpoint.
Phillipa Soo, Uma Thurman
Willimon has written a small piece featuring mechanisms of control in politics as usual. Derogatory jokes about our so-called government could be better integrated, but then this isn’t about Democrats vs Republicans.
Director Pam McKinnon keeps her characters naturally moving and Thurman seductive lolling around Derek McLane’s tasteful, upper crust Set. Actors listen; timing is good.
Jane Greenwood’s Costumes flatter the men more than Thurman, though everything looks character specific.
Photos by Matthew Murphy Opening: Uma Thurman, Josh Lucas, Marton Csokas
The Parisian Woman by Beau Willimon Directed by Pam McKinnon Hudson Theatre 141 West 44th Street
I reviewed The Band’s Visit when it debuted at The Atlantic Theater last year. Much of the cast remains the same. Parts of this piece come from that review, parts allude to changes and fresh observations evoked by the new presentation.
“Once not long ago a group of musicians came to Israel from Egypt. You probably didn’t hear about it. It wasn’t very important.”
What appears at first glance to be a slight ripple in history sometimes affects those present in profoundly unexpected ways. This gem of a musical, whose fine book buoys grounded lyrics, embraces what we have in common rather than becoming yet another platform for political social/division. That it does so with limpid delicacy eschewing Hollywood outcomes makes the piece as refreshing as it is sympathetic.
John Cariani, Etai Benson, Katrina Lenk, Tony Shaloub and band members
The Alexandria Ceremonial Police Orchestra has been invited to open an Arab Cultural Center in Pet Hatikva, Israel. Overseen with utmost decorum “We are here to represent our country!” by their conductor, Colonel Tewfiq Zakaria (Tony Shalhoub), the small troop appear somewhat dazed. Crisp, powder blue military uniforms stand out against sand and cracked cement as if landed from another planet. In fact, they are strangers in a strange land.
When trumpet player/ladies man Haled (Ari’el Stachel) mistakenly arranges passage to neighboring Bat Hatikva (B not P), the men find themselves in a one horse, Israeli, Negev Desert town without the horse. Locals pass by means of a stage floor turntable. They’re all “Waiting,” but is it for something special or just “Looking off out into the distance/even though you know the view is never gonna change…”
Kristen Sieh, John Cariani, Alok Tewari, Andrew Polk, George Abud
Café owner Dina (Katrina Lenk), affable Itzik (a sympathetic John Cariani), and hapless young Papi (Etai Benson- self conscious acting), sing “Welcome to Nowhere.” As the next bus doesn’t come through till tomorrow and the settlement has no hotel, Dina agrees to put up Tewfiq and Haled. Itzik takes home clarinetist Simon (Alok Tewari, whose quiet gentility warms the role) and violinist Camal (George Abud) – the former unwittingly affecting family dynamics. Others bunk in the café.
The play evolves over a single afternoon and evening with four integrated chapters. At Itzak’s we meet his wife Iris (new to the company Kristen Sieh, who makes her character’s frustration palpable) and father-in-law Avram (Andrew Polk – very fine, but the actor should remove his diamond ear stud). Note to prop master: the baby doll looks pointedly fake. Avram’s irresistible “Beat of Your Heart” brightens proceedings. At a roller rink, Papi panics around girls. Description of his state “Papi Hears the Ocean” is priceless.
Rachel Prather, Etai Benson, Ari’el Stachel
Curious about and drawn to her guest, the attractive Dina literally lets her hair down with Tewfiq and gets the guarded conductor to open up. He sings in a capella Arabic (with immense feeling), but is it about love, she wonders, or fishing? This man is compelling.
The fourth chapter, an embodiment of hopeful perseverance, is played out with the Telephone Guy (Adam Kantor – good, low key turn) who has stood outside a phone booth every night for a month waiting for a promised call from his girl. Then it’s time for the orchestra to move on. We last see them – performing – in Pet Hatikva. It’s extremely difficult not to get up and dance.
A wonderful experience.
Katrina Lenk and Tony Shaloub
David Yazbeck’s infectious music embraces Middle Eastern influences with estimable skill, maintaining an atmosphere of “other” one rarely finds in Broadway theater. Listen for the sole number with real jazz influence. Stachel actually plays trumpet, Tewari, clarinet, Abud, violin. Other on stage musicians include: Ossama Farouk, Sam Sadigursky, Harvey Valdes, Garo Yellin.
Several cast members speak fluent Arabic while others deliver dialogue in Hebrew. There isn’t a single weak link in acting or vocals. Casting (Tara Rubin) must’ve been like scaling a glass mountain.
Ari’el Stachel imbues Haled with sincere sweetness that would appeal to the girls with whom his character continually flirts, yet masculinity is ever present. His paternal attitude toward Papi is lovely. And he sings well.
Katrina Lenk and Tony Shalhoub are a match made in heaven. Lenk’s earthy, sensual, smart portrayal make Dina a real and formidable woman. She emanates earthiness and manifests animal grace. Rarely have the practical and passionate been so believable in tandem. The actress also has a superb voice.
Shalhoub’s performance is nuanced and poignant. Fastidiousness is as unmistakable as emotional armor. Revealing a painful past, Tewfiq maintains perspective, yet at one point, we hear his breath catch. A pivotal song communicates lost illusions. Though we don’t understand a word of the foreign language, one knows. The couple’s parting couldn’t be more moving or convincingly manifest.
Director David Cromer has both a soulful character touch and the kind of comprehensive vision that never makes a false move. A turntable is wonderfully employed. The exception, of which first time attendees may be less aware, concerns live musicians. Perhaps in an effort to fully utilize the possibilities of a multilevel set, integration of performing band members is more stagey/obvious than previously impeding on authenticity. “Musical breaks” unrelated to narrative – excepting a joyous encore, feel somewhat uncomfortable. Most importantly, in the play’s first incarnation, every note emerged from visible actor/musicians. On Broadway, additional band members play from elsewhere giving accompaniment a full, rather false sound which includes piano. This takes away from both intimacy and bona fides. More in this case does not enhance, it detracts.
As realized by Scott Pask, Set Design has naturally expanded into the space. The turntable continues inspired. Most of the new design is not overdone due to increased budget. The roller rink is possibly too decked out to be credible in the tiny, backward location, however.
Sarah Laux’s Costumes are just right down to Dina’s second rate jeans and clodhopper shoes – excepting an old lady with an oxygen tank who wanders through in the opening dressed as if from another play.
Language and Dialect Coach Mouna R’miki deserves a standing ovation.
Photos by Matthew Murphy Opening: The Band led by Tony Shaloub
The Band’s Visit Music & Lyrics by David Yazbek; Book by Itamar Moses Based on the screenplay by Eran Kolirin Music Director: Andrea Grody; Orchestrations: Jamishied Sharifi Directed by David Cromer Ethel Barrymore Theatre 243 West 47th Street
Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream is an enchantment. When a feuding fairy king and queen, a mischievous sprite, mismatched lovers, and a farcical, amateur acting company share the stage, ardor, revenge, deception, whimsy and magic reign.
Any director must helm all this with clear point of view, however, or chaos ensues. Unfortunately, Lear deBessonet apparently has none. The four factions – fairyland, Athens’ nobles, youthful, romantic obsession, and vaudevillian shenanigans – bump against each other without cohesion. Though David Rockwell’s versatile, Arthur Rackhamish fantasy set (love the slide), and Clint Ramos’s extravagantly original costumes (inspired by, among others, Carmen Miranda, Siegfried or Roy, Esther Williams, and The Pope) are appealing, they signify nothing without empathy for the players.
Annaleigh Ashford (Helena) and Alex Hernandez (Demetrius)
For the record, I take no issue with updating the play’s look or adding punctuating, contemporary music – here, zydeco, r & b, rock, and country often sung by the flat out terrific Marcelle Davies-Lashley. (Original Music/Music Supervisor Justin Levine.) Nor, despite its getting a bit tired, do I object to the company’s goofy, signature dance number at the end.
Synopsis: Creating an atmosphere of romance, Theseus, The Duke of Athens (Bhavesh Patel) is about to wed Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons (De’Adre Aziza). Hermia (Shalita Grant) and Lysander (Kyle Beltran) are in love, but the girl’s father Egeus (David Manis) insists she marry Demetrius (Alex Hernandez) who is, in turn, pursued by Helena (Annaleigh Ashford). The four young people find themselves in the Fairy Wood, some to flee, others plying suit.
Kristine Nielson (Robin/Puck) and Richard Poe (Oberon) watch Shalita Grant (Hermia) and Alex Hernandez (Demetrius)
Titania, Queen of the Fairies (Phylicia Rashad) is at odds with husband Oberon (Richard Poe) over the changeling boy she’s adopted (adorable Benjamin Ye who giggles on cue). Oberon enlists Robin Goodfellow/Puck (Kristine Nielson), to bewitch his errant wife into falling in love with the next creature she sees. That “creature” turns out to be Nick Bottom, the weaver (Danny Burstein), in the wood to rehearse a play for the wedding festivities. Robin famously changes Titania’s unwitting swain into an ass.
Ersatz play-within-the-play thespians include Peter Quince (Robert Joy), bellows mender Francis Flute (Jeff Hiller), Snout the tinker (Patrena Murray), Snug the joiner (Austin Durant) and tailor Robin Starveling, (Joe Tapper).
Patrena Murray (Snout), Robert Joy (Peter Quince), Jeff Hiller (Frances Flute), and Danny Burstein (Nick Bottom)
Also commanded to cast a spell on Dimitrius in order to bring together he and Helena, Robin mistakenly bewitches Lysander who then forsakes Hermia for Helena further complicating the caucus race.
To my mind, there are two unfathomable casting errors. The first is Kristine Nielson as a leaden Robin Goodfellow who clumps around the stage, humorlessly mugs in the yuk-yuk vein and adds not an ounce of lightheartness. The second, nightshirt-wearing fairies ranging, I’d conjecture, from 65-85 years-old who literally seem to have trouble getting up and down stairs to the proscenium. While chronological age is irrelevant, difficulty getting about is not, especially for fairies.
Richard Poe (Oberon) and Kristine Nielson (Robin/Puck)
Hearing audience members murmur that perhaps capable Shakespearean actors were few in New York come summer confirmed that my reservations about the cast were not simply from over exposure. And no, I don’t believe one has to be British. This is compounded by deBessonet’s lack of attention to characterization.
Annaleigh Ashford of whom I’m a fan, is hit or miss as Helena. Though a crowd-pleaser and often theatrically funny (especially physically), unedited excess finds her at last, just clownish. Both Ashford and Shalita Grant (Hermia) are pushed to unrestrained screeching which deBessonet appears to find amusing. The usually fine Danny Burstein (Nick Bottom) doesn’t seem to be having enough fun with the role. Kyle Beltran (Lysander) is earnest and clear. Among yeoman actors, Jeff Hiller (Frances Flute) enters querulous and plays Thisbe with evocative glee.
The stage is well and fully used as are Delacorte aisles.
An outdoor Midsummer is in itself a treat and this one was not without its pleasures. I wonder whether the audience holds The Public Theater to less high standards in Central Park.
Photos by Joan Marcus Opening: Phylicia Rashad (Titania) and Danny Burstein (Nick Bottom)
“…Dear Ms. Fitzgerald…The first time I saw you was on tv…You were singing…clear and velvety smooth…like you were making a beautiful painting with your voice…” The daughter of two professional singers, Broadway denizen Andrea Frierson has felt an affinity with Ella Jane Fitzgerald (1917-1996) since childhood. Bookended by letters, this show parallels Frierson’s life (and that of her family) with Fitzgerald’s, not in terms of actual incidents, but rather professional experience and the icon’s influence. The author/performer wisely doesn’t try to imitate her heroine, she channels her.
Between vocals, Fitzgerald’s biography is peppered with four line poems written by Frierson: Hollywood came a-calling /I went!/Salary they paid me- three times my rent/Oh Chick…if only you could see/All the good you brung to me…This, as if by Fitzgerald, refers to Ella’s invitation to Hollywood because of popularity with Chick Webb’s band. A single reference to experienced prejudice elicits: A first-class ticket to a Jim Crow affair/The dress code is black and white/The misery’s private; inherited by birth/Enjoy your second-class flight…The novelty mostly works.
Signature numbers like “Honeysuckle Rose,” “A Tisket a Tasket,” “Goody, Goody,” “Lady Be Good,” “How High the Moon,” and “The Wee Small Hours of the Morning” arrive with confidence and style. Frierson is a fine singer. She has superb control, a classy swing, mellow scat, and a long note that never pushes. Ballads whisper and swell, be-bop feels effervescent. Phrasing is impeccable, gestures kept to a minimum.
Projected images of Fitzgerald and Frierson through the years are joined by photos of The Apollo Theater, streets of Harlem, album covers, and newspaper headlines adding atmosphere. Relevant sound effects are occasionally employed to create time and place.
The show is in development. At this point Frierson’s own story, especially in regard to that of her family, intrudes too often with tenuous analogy in order to include certain songs. A set of peripheral cousins, one boyfriend, and a Beatles number could be easily jettisoned. Though she sings George Gershwin’s “Porgy” beautifully, it doesn’t relate to Fitzgerald the way “Summertime”, a similar vocal opportunity, would. “Laura” is justified by a mention of Million Dollar Movie and “Get Out of Town” doesn’t work in response to bigotry experienced on American Airlines.
This is meant to be constructive criticism. Me & Ella is thoroughly entertaining. Fitzgerald’s story is well told. Much of Frierson’s history is charmingly related. The artist can clearly act and boy can she sing! Enthusiasm and affection are palpable.
Directors Murphy Cross & Paul Kreppel spotlight Frierson’s vocal appeal and storytelling.
Ron Abel’s excellent arrangements are engaging and evocative of Fitzgerald.
The band, featuring Abel on piano, Rex Benincasa- Percussion and Richie Goods-Bass, is first rate.
Photos by Ben Strothmann.
Photo of Ella Fitzgerald- Wikipedia
The York Theatre Company presents Me & Ella- Written and Performed by Andrea Frierson Music Direction & Arrangements by Ron Abel The Theater at St. Peter’s 618 Lexington Avenue Through July 23, 2017 NEXT: JERRY’S GIRLS August 8-15
Nancy Anderson’s father had a terrific collection of vintage jazz LPs. These set her on a path of appreciation and exploration outside what became a musical theater career. At age nine, she learned “Ain’t She Sweet” on a battered ukulele. In private life and then cabaret performance, Anderson took to the music of the 1920s/1930s with innate recognition. Her 2005 CD Ten Cents A Dance irresistibly reflects the era.
Stylistically, the artist has it down. Successive lyric lines seamlessly meld. Selected words arc as octaves rise and fall. Back of throat vibrato is called forth to emphasize emotion. At a live show, one happily observes flapper moves that seem second nature. Anderson shimmies, shakes her shoulders, snaps her head, circles, prances, flirts, pouts and punches in frustration – never over the top.
As a young artist, Anderson bought an Artie Shaw tape based on the cover and fell in love. “I listen through the nostalgia,” she tells us. “These guys were the rock stars of their era.” Shaw’s “I’m So in Love With You” finds the vocalist suddenly serious after two upbeat numbers. Audibly deep intake of breath adds to expressive angst. The clarinet oozes regret. An actress, she holds fast to mood during instrumentals. As there was no sheet music for these selections, Patterson had to transcribe off the album.
“You’re Giving Me a Song and Dance” (Milton Ager/Marty Symes) was popularized by singer-with-the-band, Peg LaCentra…Now you want me cause you ain’t got me…Anderson shrugs with a jaded smile. A wink and a nod take us out. The performer is an expert with picture perfect exits, an arm raised, a back turned. “It Ain’t Right” (Bob Rothberg/Joseph Meyer) begins with pluck/slide bass sparking the audience to clap in time. The spirited dame on stage is having none it “it.” …ooo I’m out the door-yeah!.. “Darling Not Without You”(a perfectly in sync contribution by Anderson herself) is three martinis deep. Mellow bass creates resonant echo. Piano steps carefully, lightly.
From a Rogers and Hart show Anderson performed in London, we hear a medley of three songs with only deft piano accompaniment. “My Romance” is a particularly lovely treatment. All three of these delicious tunes get unnecessarily BIG in the middle. As this is a vocalist who can deliver equal skill quietly – many can’t- I find interpretation disconcerting and harmful to lyric intention.
Tommy Dorsey’s very cool “Alibi Baby” swings from lullaby to sass with flair. “True Blue Lou” is a lament. Hands behind her back, Anderson is in the song up to her eyebrows. Piano strolls and sighs. ‘Wonderful arrangement. “How’dga Like Ta Love Me?” (Jimmy Dorsey) emerges breezy, dancey. The vocalist delivers implicit wide eyed emulation. Her growl is impish. Part of the pleasure of this show is hearing rarely performed numbers.
Rodgers and Hart’s “Ten Cents a Dance” is a theatrical turn. This exhausted, hardened taxi dancer has both moments of sheer ingénue and parentheses of near hysteria.
Caveats: Anderson was recently Glenn Close’s understudy in Sunset Boulevard. Rationalizing this material is of the same period depicted in the Andrew Lloyd Weber musical, she ends this show with “Just One Look.” It lands like a wrong piece of the puzzle. The show is peppered with personal stories which would be more appealing if edited. No Director is listed.
Nancy Anderson occupies the stage with infectious enthusiasm.
Musicians are first rate.
Photos by Steve Friedman
Scott Siegel presents Nancy Anderson: Ten Cents A Dance Musical Director/Piano- Ross Patterson J.J. Mcgeehan-Guitar/Banjo/Ukulele, Aaron Heck- Reeds, Don Falzone-Bass 54Below 254 West 54th Street July 5, 2017 Venue Calendar
Louise (Fiona Mongillo), a repressed Swede, is staying at the currently empty Paris studio of her artist brother, having been advised by a doctor to travel after a bout of Typhus. It’s her first visit to the city and, one infers, first exposure to the sophisticated freewheeling behavior prevalent in the arts community. Intimates include expatriates Erna, a painter (Jane May), her sister Lilly (Claire Curtis-Ward), Erna’s ill-used lover Henrik (Nicholas Koy Santillo), and Lilly’s swain, Louise’s attentive step-brother, Viggo (Paul Herbig).
Matthew DeCapua and Fiona Mongillo
Viggo runs into infamous sculptor Alland (Matthew DeCapua) at a café. Discovering he’s acquainted with Louise’s brother, he invites the artist to her apartment hoping to cheer up the recovering invalid. In under three minutes, eschewing small talk, Alland has the inexperienced Louise admitting she’s never really lived. If she doesn’t work, she must certainly marry, he offhandedly declares. “Not many women allow themselves to love.” One might just as well wave a red flag in front of a bull.
Here we find yet another woman convinced she’s the one who can tame a thrilling womanizer. Erna, who’s had devastating personal experience with Alland (remaining wounded and jealous) tries unsuccessfully to warn her friend off. Even when the man himself unabashedly states love doesn’t last and that he’ll invariably move on, when he sadistically rubs admiration of a model in Louise’s face, when he proves himself irresponsible and demanding, she wastes away and clings. Unfortunately, Matthew DeCapa’s lack of lascivious charisma makes this unbelievable. He looks without appetite, touches without sensuality and never lets us glimpse intention.
Claire Curtis-Ward, Jane May, Fiona Mongillo
Louise flees but finds her northern home no longer tolerable. She now calls Allard “The Toad King” acknowledging enchantment. Returning to Paris, however, our heroine apparently morphs into the strong, open handed, unquestioning woman her lover desires. A potently described piece of his art in which she sees herself tips illusive balance. You can probably guess the rest.
A play with dated sensibilities must be extremely well acted to accurately emulate earlier mind set. Alas, this one is not. Most of the company simply move through it neither thinking nor listening, robbing the piece of internal life. Though a few players have moments, only Paul Herbig’s completely natural Viggo and Fiona Mongillo’s desperate Louise deserve call-outs.
Claire Curtis-Ward and Paul Herbig
Audience on three sides behooves a director not to stage lengthy speeches with characters’ backs turned. Lucy Jane Atkinson is apparently unaware of this. As Set Designer Mary Hamrick supplies no props, the company finds itself without stage business to hold attention, add realism, or illuminate the unspoken. Atkinson’s acceptance of this is detrimental to the production. Every time someone rushes in to Louise’s studio, he or she overshoots those in the room by several feet. This makes no sense…
Live string music (no credit on the program) is immensely evocative. Adrienne Carlile’s Costume Design successfully depicts the period on a limited budget.
The play’s translation by Tommy Lexen has two issues. First is the frequent use of third person – with Louise not six feet away, she is referred to as she, her, or Louise as if not present. This may have been in original text but disconcerts entirely too much to remain. Second is the employment of jarring, contemporary phrases like “sweetie,” “it’s not happening,” and “I’m up for that.”
Also featuring Michael J. Connolly and Ariana Karp
“Victoria Benedictsson (1850 – 1888), groundbreaking Swedish novelist and playwright who wrote under the pen name Ernst Ahlgren, was the real life inspiration for both Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler and Strindberg’s Miss Julie. Stuck in an unhappy marriage, she had a scandalous affair with a high-profile Danish critic, which led to her suicide soon after completing this play.”
Photos by Katrin Talbot Opening: Matthew DeCapua and Fiona Mongillo
Ducdame Ensemble presets The Enchantment by Victoria Benedictsson Adapted/Translated by Tommy Lexen Directed by Lucy Jane Atkinson Through July 22, 2017 Venue Calendar: HERE 145 Sixth Avenue
1960. Immigrants Ludovica Musculino (Alyssa Bresnahan) – think restrained Anna Magnani – and her abusive husband Nic (Michael Rispoli), cliché except for an undershirt, scrape by in a tenement apartment in Brooklyn. We learn nothing of Nic’s life outside home, but Luda has inadvertently captured the heart of Irish butcher, widower Albert Duffy (Erik Lochtefeld) from whom she gets attention and discreet support.
Faith in God having been severely tested, Luda now regularly “administers” and talks to onions (you heard me) attempting to regain exorcism in lost tears. Both people and objects emerge with symbol status.
The Muscalinos have three daughters. Tina, the eldest (Lilli Kay), denied education, works in a tile factory to help support the family. She’s lumpen, friendless and can’t read. Middle child Vita (Elise Kibler), is smart and outspoken. When we meet, she’s been exiled to a convent for defending 16 year-old Francesca (Jordyn DiNatale) against their violent father. Cesca’s crime? To chop her hair short. (Had Nic been aware his youngest is gay, he’d’ve probably killed her.) Vita endured a broken nose, several broken ribs, and a concussion. She will never forgive Nic. He, in turn, doesn’t allow her name to be mentioned in table grace.
Jordyn DiNatale, Alyssa Bresnahan, Juliet Brett
Luda’s steadfast love, despite objections to her husband’s behavior, is based on his “knowing who I was before I did.” She was 16 and naïve when they wed. The girls find her loyalty unfathomable. “You’re not a stupid woman,” Vita declares when allowed home for Christmas.
Dreams fill the hardscrabble apartment. Luda just wants peace. Vita intends to move out as soon as possible. Cesca has formulated plans to stow away to France with her inamorata, Albert’s daughter Connie (Juliet Brett). Tina, desperate for connection, accidentally makes a friend of saavy, fellow employee Celia (Shirine Babb) bonding under tragic circumstances.
The tragic circumstances, a shocking, beautifully manifest historical disaster, put everything into topspin. Was the event punishment from God? A parentheses of change engenders hope then dashed. Decisions are provoked.
Jordyn DiNatale and Michael Rispoli
This is a fairly well written kitchen sink drama, but misses the mark. Though characters manage to offer occasional humor, moments of specificity, and lots of familial devotion, everything is so formalized, we don’t care enough. The scope of the catastrophe is also hard to balance against outcome.
The company is fine, though an array of accents in attempt to show generational changes throws one. (Dialect Coach Stephen Gabis)
Of particular note are Jordyn DiNatale (Cesca) who reminds me of naturalistic Julie Harris in A Member of the Wedding, Shirine Babb who underplays Celia with skill and credibility, and Alyssa Bresnahan as the passionate, tightly wound Ludovica. The latter’s prayer scene in Act II is a gem.
The Company
Director Gordon Edelstein gives each daughter distinguishing expression and physicality. Well paced scenes move smoothly from one area of the permanent set to another. Two-handers are particularly well realized. The young lesbians, ostensibly too young for sexual encounter, display physical affection in a marvelously imaginative, almost balletic interlude. Fights Directed by Rick Sordelet and Christian Kelly-Sordelet are terrifically real.
Eugene Lee’s Set Design is minimal, evocative. Overhead indicators – signs for the tile factory, the butcher shop, Christ on the Cross, a stained glass window – work well without interfering. At one point Christmas lights vividly extend into the theater. (Note: when lights and garlands come down, the holiday tree oddly remains. A mistake?)
Fitz Patton’s excellent Sound Design provides both the subtle and alarming with equal skill. His music choices are perfect.
Photos by Joan Marcus Opening: Elise Kibler, Lilli Kay, Jordyn DiNatale
Roundabout Theatre Company presents Napoli, Brooklyn by Meghan Kennedy
Directed by Gordon Edelstein
Through September 3, 2017
Laura Pels Theatre
111 W 46th Street
