Reviewed by Cindy Pierre
Etch Dance Co.'s Testify is a display of athleticism and dance tricks that is high on energy, but low on tangible emotion. Artistic Director and Choreographer Elisha Clark Halpin's 30-minute, contemporary dance presentation is supposed to embrace what lurks in women's hearts, but the execution is frenetic instead of heartfelt, and overwrought when it could have been simpler. Not that emotions are simple. But the way they are packaged here-in “jagged and angular” movements that are piled on top of one another too quickly to ponder-is offputting instead of inviting. As a result, the troupe of six often look like gymnasts approaching difficult moves when they dance. The soundtrack, consisting mostly of Jazz tunes by Nina Simone and Etta James, tries to tell us that the dancers have the blues, but only Allison Alemi in “Since we met” and Halpin in “All I could do” express themselves in a manner that befits the love songs. They are the only dancers that are convincing, even if Halpin's dress isn't: the fabric doesn't have enough give for the electrifying steps that she has designed. “Stepping into Darkness'” story about warfare in Darfur is poignant, but Megan Moore, Lauren Steinke and Caitlin Rogowski have way too much to do in the time allotted. Testify may make many statements, but too many of those are witnesses against the importance of emotion instead of for it.
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Testify (Running time: 30 minutes)
The Robert Moss Theatre (440 Lafayette Street, 3rd Floor near Astor Place and East 4th Street)
Tickets: $15. www.fringenyc.org
Saturday, September 05, 2009
Friday, September 04, 2009
Fringe/Muffin Man
Reviewed by Nicole C. Lee
Do you know the Muffin Man? Lyla sure does – and she loves more than the muffins he brings. Muffin Man follows her adventures as a new barista who, on her first day of work, falls all over again for her childhood crush, Justin (the “Muffin Man”). Camille Harris writes and directs this sweet, light-hearted musical, combining the addictive nature of a good cup of java with a handful of zany characters.
The opening begins with bars from the play’s familiar namesake, but from there, it’s Harris’ own secret recipe. The ingredients are all good, too: the set is a simple, little coffee station, and there are a plethora of costumes for the nine-person cast and their multiple roles. Over the course of an hour at The Perky Coffee Bean, Lyla (Samantha Blain) and her spunky yet charming boss, Sadie (Shaye Troha), deal with the unpredictable characters and situations that come their way. In one instance, two businesswomen enter the shop and offer to pay for the other’s coffee. What begins as a friendly and polite gesture turns into a competition of who can persuade Lyla to take her credit card first. Harris manages to include many of these comical moments that also poke fun at America’s addiction to coffee (Starbucks, anyone?).
People of all ages will be able to relate to the teenage angst aspect that Lyla is suffering. At one point, Lyla is just about to reveal her true feelings to Justin when her mother appears and embarrasses her by offering to drive Lyla home (“but Mom, Justin offered to take me home!”).
It’s not often these days that audiences are treated to a classic romantic musical. Muffin Man delivers a charming one and does so in a modern way. The show’s tunes allow the actors to show off their vocal chops without being taxing on the audience. All in all, Muffin Man is a delightful show that will leave a smile on your face.
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FringeNYC 2009 Encore Series: Muffin Man (60 minutes, no intermission)
The Actors Playhouse (100 Seventh Avenue)
Tickets: $15 - 18 (www.fringenyc.org)
Performances: September 16, 23 @ 7PM, September 26 @ 6PM, September 27 @ 3PM
Do you know the Muffin Man? Lyla sure does – and she loves more than the muffins he brings. Muffin Man follows her adventures as a new barista who, on her first day of work, falls all over again for her childhood crush, Justin (the “Muffin Man”). Camille Harris writes and directs this sweet, light-hearted musical, combining the addictive nature of a good cup of java with a handful of zany characters.
The opening begins with bars from the play’s familiar namesake, but from there, it’s Harris’ own secret recipe. The ingredients are all good, too: the set is a simple, little coffee station, and there are a plethora of costumes for the nine-person cast and their multiple roles. Over the course of an hour at The Perky Coffee Bean, Lyla (Samantha Blain) and her spunky yet charming boss, Sadie (Shaye Troha), deal with the unpredictable characters and situations that come their way. In one instance, two businesswomen enter the shop and offer to pay for the other’s coffee. What begins as a friendly and polite gesture turns into a competition of who can persuade Lyla to take her credit card first. Harris manages to include many of these comical moments that also poke fun at America’s addiction to coffee (Starbucks, anyone?).
People of all ages will be able to relate to the teenage angst aspect that Lyla is suffering. At one point, Lyla is just about to reveal her true feelings to Justin when her mother appears and embarrasses her by offering to drive Lyla home (“but Mom, Justin offered to take me home!”).
It’s not often these days that audiences are treated to a classic romantic musical. Muffin Man delivers a charming one and does so in a modern way. The show’s tunes allow the actors to show off their vocal chops without being taxing on the audience. All in all, Muffin Man is a delightful show that will leave a smile on your face.
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FringeNYC 2009 Encore Series: Muffin Man (60 minutes, no intermission)
The Actors Playhouse (100 Seventh Avenue)
Tickets: $15 - 18 (www.fringenyc.org)
Performances: September 16, 23 @ 7PM, September 26 @ 6PM, September 27 @ 3PM
Thursday, September 03, 2009
Fringe/Face the Music....and Dance!
Reviewed by Cindy Pierre
Despite the title Face the Music...and Dance!, there isn't a lot of confronting going on in this collection of mostly excerpts of choreography designed to tackle everyday struggles. There may be some strong choreography and beautiful lines from the dancers, but only one piece earns the title. As a result, the uneven, 75- minute show zigs and zags from pieces with gravitas to pieces that are beautiful, but ultimately fluffy in comparison.
For instance, Noa Sagie's “Degas duck dag's” take on the roles of women may be lighthearted and quirky -with Hysun Choi capitalizing on the fun-but it immediately sets a tone for the show that undermines its mission. Julian Barnett's “Wooden Heart” has a wonderful part in which Jocelyn Tobias mimics Barnett's movement and he appears to be wearing her like a cloak, but this tale about the difficulties in relationships doesn't have enough of a struggle. Maura Nguyen Donohue's “Jet Stream” is a great blend of talented flautists (Rick Ebihara, Brian Nishii and Perry Yung) and synchronized dancing from Donohue and Barnett, but again, there are no altercations.
Only Heidi Latsky's “What Would You Have Done” succeeds in battling its subject matter: hate associated with the holocaust in the film version of Bernhard Schlink's The Reader. Jeffrey Freeze and Luke Murphy rage, beat their bodies, comfort each other and quiet down in a powerful display of emotion.
Finally, Tina Croll's “The Stamping Group” uses 17 dancers to make a statement about unity “in this dark age”, but we never experience darkness or unity. The dancers pile onto the stage gracefully, but proceed to bump into each other and misstep, causing great confusion. And because Scott Lewis is the only male dancer, you'll wait and wait for him to distinguish himself from the rest, but that never happens. We shouldn't be waiting for a sign of independence when the dance is supposed to be about sameness.
Face the Music...and Dance! may have plenty to say about various themes, but don't expect too much confrontation, conflict, or cohesiveness. But if you're looking for some inspired movement and unusual expressions of feeling, you'll get that and then some.
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Face the Music....and Dance! (Running time: 75 minutes)
The Robert Moss Theatre (440 Lafayette Street, 3rd Floor near Astor Place and East 4th Street)
Tickets: $15. www.fringenyc.org
Despite the title Face the Music...and Dance!, there isn't a lot of confronting going on in this collection of mostly excerpts of choreography designed to tackle everyday struggles. There may be some strong choreography and beautiful lines from the dancers, but only one piece earns the title. As a result, the uneven, 75- minute show zigs and zags from pieces with gravitas to pieces that are beautiful, but ultimately fluffy in comparison.
For instance, Noa Sagie's “Degas duck dag's” take on the roles of women may be lighthearted and quirky -with Hysun Choi capitalizing on the fun-but it immediately sets a tone for the show that undermines its mission. Julian Barnett's “Wooden Heart” has a wonderful part in which Jocelyn Tobias mimics Barnett's movement and he appears to be wearing her like a cloak, but this tale about the difficulties in relationships doesn't have enough of a struggle. Maura Nguyen Donohue's “Jet Stream” is a great blend of talented flautists (Rick Ebihara, Brian Nishii and Perry Yung) and synchronized dancing from Donohue and Barnett, but again, there are no altercations.
Only Heidi Latsky's “What Would You Have Done” succeeds in battling its subject matter: hate associated with the holocaust in the film version of Bernhard Schlink's The Reader. Jeffrey Freeze and Luke Murphy rage, beat their bodies, comfort each other and quiet down in a powerful display of emotion.
Finally, Tina Croll's “The Stamping Group” uses 17 dancers to make a statement about unity “in this dark age”, but we never experience darkness or unity. The dancers pile onto the stage gracefully, but proceed to bump into each other and misstep, causing great confusion. And because Scott Lewis is the only male dancer, you'll wait and wait for him to distinguish himself from the rest, but that never happens. We shouldn't be waiting for a sign of independence when the dance is supposed to be about sameness.
Face the Music...and Dance! may have plenty to say about various themes, but don't expect too much confrontation, conflict, or cohesiveness. But if you're looking for some inspired movement and unusual expressions of feeling, you'll get that and then some.
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Face the Music....and Dance! (Running time: 75 minutes)
The Robert Moss Theatre (440 Lafayette Street, 3rd Floor near Astor Place and East 4th Street)
Tickets: $15. www.fringenyc.org
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Fringe/Baby Wants Candy
Reviewed by Amanda Halkiotis
Baby Wants Candy uncannily lends uncompromising musical flair to improv comedy. Its seven-person ensemble takes the basic sketch-comedy framework and puts an even geekier, kitschier twist on it. What makes them stand out is their musical backup, a tightly-orchestrated, talented, toe-tapping four-piece group known as the Yes Band. But what makes this touring company worth watching is the plot of each new show, or, rather, the lack thereof.
Every night, Baby Wants Candy performs a new, never-before-seen musical inspired by an original title submitted by the audience. Whether inconceivable or imperfect, or something in between, they make it work, composing a back-story, conflict, climax, and resolution all within a compact one-hour format in which scenes don’t drag on and the topic at hand remains steady through disciplined follow-through. The Yes Band keeps up the entire time with intros, interludes, and full-fledged songs. Their self-aware, unpretentious approach also shows these guys have no problem poking fun while having fun, which means no egos, no interrupters, and no overcrowding already-determined key characters or lead roles.
It’s a real ensemble, whether they’re helping each other finish a song whose chorus has gotten repetitive or adding quick comic relief to sagging dramatic dialogue. There are no weak players, but the ones with the keenest ear for dialogue and wittiest angles for entering a scene on this particular evening were Thomas Middletich, Albert Samuels, and Eliza Skinner (who also brings her brassy, belting vocals to the stage). The teamwork here does amazing things with a bare set, no sheet music, no cues or stage directions; instead they simply start with a story title and make the rest up as they sing along.
Baby Wants Candy uncannily lends uncompromising musical flair to improv comedy. Its seven-person ensemble takes the basic sketch-comedy framework and puts an even geekier, kitschier twist on it. What makes them stand out is their musical backup, a tightly-orchestrated, talented, toe-tapping four-piece group known as the Yes Band. But what makes this touring company worth watching is the plot of each new show, or, rather, the lack thereof.
Every night, Baby Wants Candy performs a new, never-before-seen musical inspired by an original title submitted by the audience. Whether inconceivable or imperfect, or something in between, they make it work, composing a back-story, conflict, climax, and resolution all within a compact one-hour format in which scenes don’t drag on and the topic at hand remains steady through disciplined follow-through. The Yes Band keeps up the entire time with intros, interludes, and full-fledged songs. Their self-aware, unpretentious approach also shows these guys have no problem poking fun while having fun, which means no egos, no interrupters, and no overcrowding already-determined key characters or lead roles.
It’s a real ensemble, whether they’re helping each other finish a song whose chorus has gotten repetitive or adding quick comic relief to sagging dramatic dialogue. There are no weak players, but the ones with the keenest ear for dialogue and wittiest angles for entering a scene on this particular evening were Thomas Middletich, Albert Samuels, and Eliza Skinner (who also brings her brassy, belting vocals to the stage). The teamwork here does amazing things with a bare set, no sheet music, no cues or stage directions; instead they simply start with a story title and make the rest up as they sing along.
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Fringe/The Adventures of Alvin Sputnick Deep Sea Explorer
BY CAIT WEISS
Tim Watt's The Adventures of Alvin Sputnick Deep Sea Explorer is unexpectedly engrossing. Far deeper than its title implies, its inventive presentation is magical and sincere. There's animation (line drawings done via laptop and projected onto a large, circular white screen center-stage), puppetry (emotionally-evocative creations that completely transform any previous conception of finger puppets), and live action (including ukulele performances, officer-impersonation, and, of course, much simulated deep sea diving), but Watt remains grounded in very real-world concerns, the most pressing of which is global warming.
Within the first five minutes, we’re introduced to a world where only a handful of building-sized "islands" remain above water, those that had the luck/foresight/Tower-of-Babel-esque envy to have been built on top of skyscrapers built on top of mountains. Alvin Sputnick is the post-ice-cap apocalypse, with puppets. And the ever-rising sea level isn’t the only inconvenient truth that sets the stage for Alvin Sputnick’s adventure; Alvin’s wife dies, and as she does so, her soul appears to sink Into the enormous sea, triggering a heroic journey, on par with Orpheus’ hunt for Eurydice, or Dante’s pursuit of Beatrice.
Despite its improbable plot and supernatural leanings, Watt's powerful and intricate storytelling makes us believe. When it moves, the puppet’s motions are beautifully, painfully condensed — and the effect is more cathartic than anything a whole wriggling body could ever achieve. Through the use of multimedia, specifically the tiny, vulnerable, deep-sea-scouting puppets, Tim enchants us with the infinitesimal truth inside this story. Both the puppets’ dependence on Tim and their tiny size in such a large sea underscore how it must feel to lose both one’s loved one and one’s world.
It’s a credit to Tim Watt’s talent that even despite these heavy themes, the audience was often smiling, if not laughing. The puppets and animation play a key role in this: Tim’s tiny world has a great sense of playfulness, and the way his creatures move through their environment is enchanting and delightful, even if those movements are caused by deeper sorrows.
Here's the real sorrow: now that the Fringe Festival has ended, how do we bring Tim back for an encore? Well, if there's anything to be learned from Alvin Sputnick, it's that if a puppet can make the impossible possible, well, then, so can we.
Tim Watt's The Adventures of Alvin Sputnick Deep Sea Explorer is unexpectedly engrossing. Far deeper than its title implies, its inventive presentation is magical and sincere. There's animation (line drawings done via laptop and projected onto a large, circular white screen center-stage), puppetry (emotionally-evocative creations that completely transform any previous conception of finger puppets), and live action (including ukulele performances, officer-impersonation, and, of course, much simulated deep sea diving), but Watt remains grounded in very real-world concerns, the most pressing of which is global warming.
Within the first five minutes, we’re introduced to a world where only a handful of building-sized "islands" remain above water, those that had the luck/foresight/Tower-of-Babel-esque envy to have been built on top of skyscrapers built on top of mountains. Alvin Sputnick is the post-ice-cap apocalypse, with puppets. And the ever-rising sea level isn’t the only inconvenient truth that sets the stage for Alvin Sputnick’s adventure; Alvin’s wife dies, and as she does so, her soul appears to sink Into the enormous sea, triggering a heroic journey, on par with Orpheus’ hunt for Eurydice, or Dante’s pursuit of Beatrice.
Despite its improbable plot and supernatural leanings, Watt's powerful and intricate storytelling makes us believe. When it moves, the puppet’s motions are beautifully, painfully condensed — and the effect is more cathartic than anything a whole wriggling body could ever achieve. Through the use of multimedia, specifically the tiny, vulnerable, deep-sea-scouting puppets, Tim enchants us with the infinitesimal truth inside this story. Both the puppets’ dependence on Tim and their tiny size in such a large sea underscore how it must feel to lose both one’s loved one and one’s world.
It’s a credit to Tim Watt’s talent that even despite these heavy themes, the audience was often smiling, if not laughing. The puppets and animation play a key role in this: Tim’s tiny world has a great sense of playfulness, and the way his creatures move through their environment is enchanting and delightful, even if those movements are caused by deeper sorrows.
Here's the real sorrow: now that the Fringe Festival has ended, how do we bring Tim back for an encore? Well, if there's anything to be learned from Alvin Sputnick, it's that if a puppet can make the impossible possible, well, then, so can we.
Fringe/Romeo and Toilet
Reviewed by Nicole C. Lee
What do you get when you take a classic Shakespearean tale, Romeo and Juliet, and mix it with Japanese interpretive dance and…a toilet? We’re never exactly sure in this 60-minute performance entitled Romeo and Toilet, presented by Kaimaku Pennant race. Written and directed by Yu Murai, six male actors engage in intense, physical actions that never seem to compliment or build a clear plot. While the names Romeo and Juliet are often thrown around, as well as some other lines in both English and Japanese, there is virtually no comprehensible speech or dialogue. In one scene, the characters engage in an intense argument that is little more than muffled speech because each man has a pacifier in his mouth. The performance relies heavily on choreography involving such stunts as imitating horseback riding with only the actors’ bodies. The music is perhaps the best part of the show. Featuring a mix of alternative rock ‘n’ roll and jazz, it is reminiscent of a Quentin Tarantino film or a Japanese cartoon. And while the work put into the show and the physical demand on the performers is laudable, I doubt an even cursory knowledge of Japanese will illuminate this show for you.
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FringeNYC 2009: Romeo and Toilet (60 minutes, no intermission)
HERE Arts Center – Mainstage Theater (145 6th Avenue)
Tickets: $15 (www.fringenyc.org)
Performances: concluded August 29
What do you get when you take a classic Shakespearean tale, Romeo and Juliet, and mix it with Japanese interpretive dance and…a toilet? We’re never exactly sure in this 60-minute performance entitled Romeo and Toilet, presented by Kaimaku Pennant race. Written and directed by Yu Murai, six male actors engage in intense, physical actions that never seem to compliment or build a clear plot. While the names Romeo and Juliet are often thrown around, as well as some other lines in both English and Japanese, there is virtually no comprehensible speech or dialogue. In one scene, the characters engage in an intense argument that is little more than muffled speech because each man has a pacifier in his mouth. The performance relies heavily on choreography involving such stunts as imitating horseback riding with only the actors’ bodies. The music is perhaps the best part of the show. Featuring a mix of alternative rock ‘n’ roll and jazz, it is reminiscent of a Quentin Tarantino film or a Japanese cartoon. And while the work put into the show and the physical demand on the performers is laudable, I doubt an even cursory knowledge of Japanese will illuminate this show for you.
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FringeNYC 2009: Romeo and Toilet (60 minutes, no intermission)
HERE Arts Center – Mainstage Theater (145 6th Avenue)
Tickets: $15 (www.fringenyc.org)
Performances: concluded August 29
Fringe/Girl Power: Voices of a Generation
Reviewed by Amanda Halkiotis
Written and performed by honest-to-God teenagers who aren’t shy about looking (or acting) their age, Girl Power combines monologue, spoken word, montage, and soliloquy as a platform for their fears, desires, dreams, and doubts, all based on real interviews, emotions, and experiences. Addressing topics spanning reality TV, social networking, gossip, high school bureaucracy, fashion magazines, weight gain, eating disorders, dating, date rape, friendship, drinking, and self-expression, these stellar young girls use mature yet relatable articulation that tells the audience their stories in their words, on their terms.
No stuffy artistic directors ran through this script with a red pen to translate slang and omit acronyms. As a result, the play is bursting with personality. The opening and closing scenes include the stirring spoken-word poetry of the show-stopping Dominique Fishback which makes the audience take notice of the urban landscapes she depicts. Fishback is shortly followed by another cast member familiar with inner-city living. In a self-written piece, Kezia Tyson puts poetry onstage as she advocates graffiti as a legitimate art form. Weaving in between such bluntness are quieter, more serious scenes that cope with abuse (familial and relationship). These scenes displays an entirely different idea of a difficult upbringing, played with heartbreaking sympathetic accuracy by Lyric Anderson, Anastasia Zorin, Christina Perry, and Andrea Panichi. Quick as a woman’s prerogative to change her mind the mood lightens, however, welcoming witty comedy into the mix. Highlights include a Barbie-doll commercial parody written and performed by Candice Fernandez and co-starring Alexa Winston, and a tribute story about the feminist teacher one student secretly admires, performed by Lauren Curet. Directed by Ashley Marinaccio and Elizabeth Koke, this Girl Power Ensemble indeed represents the voice of a generation. Hear them roar.
Written and performed by honest-to-God teenagers who aren’t shy about looking (or acting) their age, Girl Power combines monologue, spoken word, montage, and soliloquy as a platform for their fears, desires, dreams, and doubts, all based on real interviews, emotions, and experiences. Addressing topics spanning reality TV, social networking, gossip, high school bureaucracy, fashion magazines, weight gain, eating disorders, dating, date rape, friendship, drinking, and self-expression, these stellar young girls use mature yet relatable articulation that tells the audience their stories in their words, on their terms.
No stuffy artistic directors ran through this script with a red pen to translate slang and omit acronyms. As a result, the play is bursting with personality. The opening and closing scenes include the stirring spoken-word poetry of the show-stopping Dominique Fishback which makes the audience take notice of the urban landscapes she depicts. Fishback is shortly followed by another cast member familiar with inner-city living. In a self-written piece, Kezia Tyson puts poetry onstage as she advocates graffiti as a legitimate art form. Weaving in between such bluntness are quieter, more serious scenes that cope with abuse (familial and relationship). These scenes displays an entirely different idea of a difficult upbringing, played with heartbreaking sympathetic accuracy by Lyric Anderson, Anastasia Zorin, Christina Perry, and Andrea Panichi. Quick as a woman’s prerogative to change her mind the mood lightens, however, welcoming witty comedy into the mix. Highlights include a Barbie-doll commercial parody written and performed by Candice Fernandez and co-starring Alexa Winston, and a tribute story about the feminist teacher one student secretly admires, performed by Lauren Curet. Directed by Ashley Marinaccio and Elizabeth Koke, this Girl Power Ensemble indeed represents the voice of a generation. Hear them roar.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Fringe/George and Laura Bush perform...Our Favorite Sitcom Episodes
Image Courtesy of George and Laura Bush perform...
Reviewed by Nicole C. Lee
In George and Laura Bush perform…Our Favorite Sitcom Episodes, writer Ryan Gajewski unsuccessfully attempts to mock the former President in a new way. The show begins with a re-enactment of a favorite “I Love Lucy” episode, featuring President Bush as Ricky Riccardo – using a stereotypical Cuban accent – and Laura Bush over-emphasizing mechanical actions as Lucy. Peter Zerneck and Jennifer Tullock are funny as George and Laura, capturing the personas so often satirized by the media. But the overall pace of the 60-minute show is slower than George W. Bush’s manner of speaking. Though it has comical moments, often at the expense of the former President, the end result falls flat.
It is amusing to see George W. Bush venting about his actions as former President and passive-aggressively bickering with his wife. Yet the double-crossing twist at the end, which absurdly involves Laura Bush and former Friends star Matt LeBlanc (John J. Isgro), isn’t enough to salvage this show.
Overall, George and Laura Bush perform… is a trite attempt at mocking a President we already know is doltish.
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FringeNYC 2009: George and Laura Bush perform…Our Favorite Sitcom Episodes (60 minutes, no intermission)
The Players Theater (115 MacDougal Street)
Tickets: $15 (www.fringenyc.org)
Performances: concluded August 28
Fringe/The Meaning of Wife
Reviewed by Amanda Halkiotis
Are you feeling guilty about secretly wanting to become a wife? Dreading the eventual ownership of it, unsure of how it will work on personal terms? Coping with your parents’ reaction, or finding that you have to discard your former identity to attain it? Erin Judge and Ailin Conant's The Meaning of Wife wants to resolve all these concerns and more, mixing variety-show comedy with compassionate, forward-thinking insight as they fight for the postmodern bride’s place in society.
Using terms such as “heteronormative,” “cognitive dissonance,” and “hegemony,” they share personal anecdotes and explain contemporary social norms while working to break down preexisting notions. Combined with their straight-woman/punch-line schtick, this play packages itself neatly into a lighthearted, audience-friendly format, never too preachy or too heavy. In one scene Erin recounts getting rejected by her former lesbian clique at her women’s college reunion for marrying a “gender-identified, gender-assigned heterosexual male.” Later on, all the while with an infectious grin on her face, Ailin explains the hoops necessary to jump through in order to be granted a temporary international civil partnership.
The red tape unrolls all over the stage here as Ailin struggles to validate her love for another woman to the interrogating government official played by Erin, creating an amusing exchange which takes place somewhere between the Newlywed Game and the Spanish Inquisition. No longer an extension of a man’s property, the term “wife” still has a long way to go in adapting with ever-changing labels and lifestyles. This play is a great step in that direction, especially if you miss your angry liberal sociology professor from college, or if you never had one and want to check into a cheap crash course on the subject.
Are you feeling guilty about secretly wanting to become a wife? Dreading the eventual ownership of it, unsure of how it will work on personal terms? Coping with your parents’ reaction, or finding that you have to discard your former identity to attain it? Erin Judge and Ailin Conant's The Meaning of Wife wants to resolve all these concerns and more, mixing variety-show comedy with compassionate, forward-thinking insight as they fight for the postmodern bride’s place in society.
Using terms such as “heteronormative,” “cognitive dissonance,” and “hegemony,” they share personal anecdotes and explain contemporary social norms while working to break down preexisting notions. Combined with their straight-woman/punch-line schtick, this play packages itself neatly into a lighthearted, audience-friendly format, never too preachy or too heavy. In one scene Erin recounts getting rejected by her former lesbian clique at her women’s college reunion for marrying a “gender-identified, gender-assigned heterosexual male.” Later on, all the while with an infectious grin on her face, Ailin explains the hoops necessary to jump through in order to be granted a temporary international civil partnership.
The red tape unrolls all over the stage here as Ailin struggles to validate her love for another woman to the interrogating government official played by Erin, creating an amusing exchange which takes place somewhere between the Newlywed Game and the Spanish Inquisition. No longer an extension of a man’s property, the term “wife” still has a long way to go in adapting with ever-changing labels and lifestyles. This play is a great step in that direction, especially if you miss your angry liberal sociology professor from college, or if you never had one and want to check into a cheap crash course on the subject.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Fringe/Dante's Divina Commedia-Inferno
Reviewed by Cindy PierreBlack Moon Theatre Company's production of Dante's Divina Commedia-Inferno is an innovative, visually stunning and audibly moving take on the Italian poet's masterpiece. Unfortunately, it's also entirely in Italian—wait, what? Presented as a one-man show with English title cards that are like bad Cliffs Notes to the text, this crash course through the nine circles of Hell may not always be comprehensible, but its boldness and passion are always clear.
The show opens with Aminda Asher's superb cello. As the sole musician, Asher not only provides the haunting songs for the journey, but also manipulates her instrument to simulate the cries of the lost souls. Her music goes hand-in-hand with the projection of India Evans' erotic and demonic artwork. As the collage pans slowly before our eyes and in front of the performers, we take the same steps that Alessio Bordoni takes as Dante, descending further and further into a chasm of pain and hopelessness because Rene Migliaccio's direction keeps us rapt with empathy. And though the images compete against Bordoni for our attention, he manages to stir emotion in us… when he's not acting hysterically.
It’s a risky move to perform Inferno in Italian (which may explain why that little fact isn’t mentioned anywhere except for Black Moon's website) and as a solo show. But if you're well-versed in Dante’s original and like non-traditional takes on the classics, you may not get lost in translation…and may not mind so much even if you do.
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Dante's Divina Commedia-Inferno (Running time: 1 Hour)
HERE Arts Center-Mainstage Theater (145 Sixth Avenue, enter on Dominick, one block south of Spring
Tickets: $15. www.fringenyc.org
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Fringe/The Books
Reviewed by Cindy PierreWhat would you do if you lived in an apartment cluttered with books, but there still weren't enough stories to escape into? What would you do if you were filled with rage, but the illustrations weren't enough to stifle the beast within? If you're Mark O'Connor (Scott David Nogi) in The Books, you'd hire a pro Domme named Mistress Chimera (Aadya Bedi) to fill you with desire, and then stamp it out with pain, humiliation and degradation over and over again. Yet, unlike the characters in books, real people don't always stay in the roles or follow the paths that are prescribed for them. Michael Edison Hayden's play is a dark, somewhat entertaining dramedy about what happens when things don't go as planned.
Written mostly as BDSM sessions (where roles between a dominant and a submissive are assumed) with a few out-of-character scenes in between, The Books is a little risque-a rubber-clad, hollow-toned Bedi spits in Nogi's mouth and literally sits on his face as standard activities-but not very realistic. There is some witty banter between the “queen” and her “slave” and even when they're just being themselves, but when Mistress Chimera, a dominatrix with many clients, starts taking too much of an interest in Mark's personal life, the premise becomes unbelievable. It's not so much that things of this nature can't happen in the line of duty, but Mark is a character that's so guarded, emotionally crippled and unlikable that it's hard to fathom why she would even bother even if her life is rife with unhappiness and dysfunction. The artificiality also extends into the production itself: although there are sound clips to support a Knicks game, those in line view of the TV onstage can see that the set is off.
The Books may explore social abnorms in a way that's rarely depicted (if at all) in theater, but the pages need to be filled with more relatable material.
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The Books (Running time: 90 minutes)
The Cherry Pit (155 Bank Street between West and Washington Streets)
Tickets: $15. www.fringenyc.org
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The Books (Running time: 90 minutes)
The Cherry Pit (155 Bank Street between West and Washington Streets)
Tickets: $15. www.fringenyc.org
Friday, August 28, 2009
Fringe/Sex and the Holy Land
Reviewed by Ilana Novick
Watch out! It’s Jews Gone Wild! In Melanie Zoey Weinstein’s Sex and the Holy Land, Lili (Weinstein) travels to Israel with her two best friends, hoping for adventure, knowledge, a connection with Jewish History, and and—hopefully, —and orgasm. She’s hounded—in her head, at least—by a chorus of Jewish mothers (pitch-perfect Yiddish accents from Susan Slatin, Michelle Slonim, and Goldie Zweibel), much to the dismay of her good friends Orr (Sarah Doe Osborne) and Chaya (Ruby Joy), who worry that she’ll spoil their fun. Instead, despite the insight, in-jokes (like the “Jew-Bu”), and “in all seriousness” moments (Or may be pregnant, Chaya wanted to go to Israel to come to terms with the death of her father), Sex and the Holy Land spoils itself by focusing on the forced drama of three reasonably privileged girls. It’s a bit indulgent, given the background.
The characters go a long way, too, from hiking in the Negev to trying to hook-up with soldiers; from praying for a deceased parent to attempting to live up to the ideals of one’s parents. The atmosphere doesn’t fare as well: a bench and blankets serve as a plane, a beach, the Western Wall, army barracks, and more. In that light, it’s hard to make out the duality of this land as a party town and a minefield, a country with its own privilege, yet a strong current of hardship borne of religious conflict. Sex and the Holy Land manages to capture the inner conflicts of these girls, but not the complexity of the country.
-------------------------------------------
Sex and The Holy Land (2 hours, one intermission)
Closed.
Watch out! It’s Jews Gone Wild! In Melanie Zoey Weinstein’s Sex and the Holy Land, Lili (Weinstein) travels to Israel with her two best friends, hoping for adventure, knowledge, a connection with Jewish History, and and—hopefully, —and orgasm. She’s hounded—in her head, at least—by a chorus of Jewish mothers (pitch-perfect Yiddish accents from Susan Slatin, Michelle Slonim, and Goldie Zweibel), much to the dismay of her good friends Orr (Sarah Doe Osborne) and Chaya (Ruby Joy), who worry that she’ll spoil their fun. Instead, despite the insight, in-jokes (like the “Jew-Bu”), and “in all seriousness” moments (Or may be pregnant, Chaya wanted to go to Israel to come to terms with the death of her father), Sex and the Holy Land spoils itself by focusing on the forced drama of three reasonably privileged girls. It’s a bit indulgent, given the background.
The characters go a long way, too, from hiking in the Negev to trying to hook-up with soldiers; from praying for a deceased parent to attempting to live up to the ideals of one’s parents. The atmosphere doesn’t fare as well: a bench and blankets serve as a plane, a beach, the Western Wall, army barracks, and more. In that light, it’s hard to make out the duality of this land as a party town and a minefield, a country with its own privilege, yet a strong current of hardship borne of religious conflict. Sex and the Holy Land manages to capture the inner conflicts of these girls, but not the complexity of the country.
-------------------------------------------
Sex and The Holy Land (2 hours, one intermission)
Closed.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Fringe/Diamond Dead
Reviewed by CAIT WEISS
Ever been to a Six Flags theme park? Ever see one of those awesome, over-amped stage shows? Well, if you’re one of the few who escaped Monster Mash Bash, don’t fret. Thanks to Diamond Dead, you can still experience some high-energy, dance-happy zombie musical theater.
Diamond Dead is the story of a failed rock band that comes to life only after its members are blown to smithereens. Mix a Spinal Tap backstory with a Dawn of the Dead ending, add a dash of Rocky Horror and you’ve pretty much got the show.
It's hard to believe that a show with musical zombies could be anything but a surefire hit; unfortunately, though, there were moments when this Fringe production felt more dead than alive. To the D.C.-based, award-wining cast’s credit, this wasn’t the fault of anyone on stage, especially not the commanding Andrew Lloyd Baughman (as Dr. Diabolicus) and the delightful Josh Speerstra (as Glitter). In truth, the entire Diamond Dead band sang their moldy brain-starved hearts out. Still, even with the cast’s repeated rallying cries, the show limped along, mainly because the New York crowd was sparse and reluctant to join in the fun. Was it a cultural difference that kept us from participating? Perhaps; New Yorkers are known for being jaded, having so much theater at our doorstep. Great for us, but unfortunate for them, as Diamond Dead suffered the sad flipside of the hometown advantage.
The cast certainly tried to get the energy going: they bounded into the sparse audience – inviting, imploring, and finally forcing the few of us there to dance. But this wound up being more nerve-wracking than inspiring for some of us; we were dancing to quell the zombies. At one point, as Jack (Matt Baughman) gyrated behind our heads, the complete stranger sitting beside me leaned over and asked, “What should we do?” “Whatever they say,” I whispered, ready to bust out the Running Man as a last resort.
In the end, despite my new friends and dance moves, I left the show thinking how much more fun it would have been in a tiny packed theater in D.C.’s Adams Morgan after about three drinks with a ton of happy people wearing hot pants. And that’s not a bad thing: after all, Spinal Tap, Dawn of the Dead, Rocky Horror are like that too. And really, if you think about it, so is Monster Mash Bash.
Ever been to a Six Flags theme park? Ever see one of those awesome, over-amped stage shows? Well, if you’re one of the few who escaped Monster Mash Bash, don’t fret. Thanks to Diamond Dead, you can still experience some high-energy, dance-happy zombie musical theater.
Diamond Dead is the story of a failed rock band that comes to life only after its members are blown to smithereens. Mix a Spinal Tap backstory with a Dawn of the Dead ending, add a dash of Rocky Horror and you’ve pretty much got the show.
It's hard to believe that a show with musical zombies could be anything but a surefire hit; unfortunately, though, there were moments when this Fringe production felt more dead than alive. To the D.C.-based, award-wining cast’s credit, this wasn’t the fault of anyone on stage, especially not the commanding Andrew Lloyd Baughman (as Dr. Diabolicus) and the delightful Josh Speerstra (as Glitter). In truth, the entire Diamond Dead band sang their moldy brain-starved hearts out. Still, even with the cast’s repeated rallying cries, the show limped along, mainly because the New York crowd was sparse and reluctant to join in the fun. Was it a cultural difference that kept us from participating? Perhaps; New Yorkers are known for being jaded, having so much theater at our doorstep. Great for us, but unfortunate for them, as Diamond Dead suffered the sad flipside of the hometown advantage.
The cast certainly tried to get the energy going: they bounded into the sparse audience – inviting, imploring, and finally forcing the few of us there to dance. But this wound up being more nerve-wracking than inspiring for some of us; we were dancing to quell the zombies. At one point, as Jack (Matt Baughman) gyrated behind our heads, the complete stranger sitting beside me leaned over and asked, “What should we do?” “Whatever they say,” I whispered, ready to bust out the Running Man as a last resort.
In the end, despite my new friends and dance moves, I left the show thinking how much more fun it would have been in a tiny packed theater in D.C.’s Adams Morgan after about three drinks with a ton of happy people wearing hot pants. And that’s not a bad thing: after all, Spinal Tap, Dawn of the Dead, Rocky Horror are like that too. And really, if you think about it, so is Monster Mash Bash.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Fringe/Borderline
Rob Benson in BorderlineReviewed by Cindy Pierre
Talking about mental health is a taboo amongst men. Admitting to having mental health problems is even worse. In Borderline, Rob Benson draws from the experiences of his friends to openly discuss the nature of mental illness from the obvious to the obscure. Unlike the title, the show is not limited to borderline personality disorder. Rather, Borderline is about bpd, schizophrenia, and other nameless behaviors that suggest a disconnection in brain function. Instead of using props and a set, Benson uses sharp lighting and sound cues to sculpt his story and “episodes,” or breakdowns. And it's a good thing, too, because the material, as nebulous as some of the disorders themselves, is sometimes difficult to understand.
Alternating between free verse and straight narrative, Benson forms a semi-hypothesis about the link between ecstasy (the drug) and mental illness. That theory may not help those who are already “disturbed,” but it may just give everyone else food for thought. Although there's nothing cuddly or predictable about Benson's performance, it is remarkably passionate as he transforms from a psych-ward patient to a normally functioning adult. He plays his looks, too: he points out that we don't expect a “young, intelligent, handsome and good-looking” man to be mentally ill, which makes this actor, who looks like he’s out of Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels, a constant surprise on a sensitive topic.
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Borderline (Running time: 50 minutes)
Manhattan Theatre Source (177 MacDougal Street, between 8th and Waverly Place)
Tickets: $15. www.fringenyc.org
8/28 @ 9:15 PM
Fringe/Notes on the Land of Earthquake and Fire
BY ELLEN WERNECKE
It’s hard to say whether Hollywood assistant Chad (Ian Scott McGregor) is having the worst day of his life, or as Homer Simpson would put it, the worst day of his life so far: When his agent boss Alan (Scott Aiello) goes off the radar, Chad is forced to babysit his bratty tween daughter (Sarah Grover) at his beach house -- and what should wash up but Shane (Chad Lindsey), the director of a forthcoming surfer movie who’s definitely drunk and possibly suicidal. When Alan gets back, not only isn’t he grateful, but instead determined to show Chad the error of his ways. From Jason Schafer, the writer of the 2007 Off-Off identity thriller “I Google Myself,” “Notes on the Land of Earthquake and Fire” zags where an “Entourage” would zig, using Chad’s dilemma as a would-be go-getter to explore how masculinity feeds into Hollywood’s notions of power and success. Not every laugh lands, but audiences will sympathize with the beleaguered Chad and root for Alan’s comeuppance.
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”Notes on the Land of Earthquake and Fire” runs through August 29 at the New York International Fringe Festival. For tickets and more information, please visit FringeNYC.org.
It’s hard to say whether Hollywood assistant Chad (Ian Scott McGregor) is having the worst day of his life, or as Homer Simpson would put it, the worst day of his life so far: When his agent boss Alan (Scott Aiello) goes off the radar, Chad is forced to babysit his bratty tween daughter (Sarah Grover) at his beach house -- and what should wash up but Shane (Chad Lindsey), the director of a forthcoming surfer movie who’s definitely drunk and possibly suicidal. When Alan gets back, not only isn’t he grateful, but instead determined to show Chad the error of his ways. From Jason Schafer, the writer of the 2007 Off-Off identity thriller “I Google Myself,” “Notes on the Land of Earthquake and Fire” zags where an “Entourage” would zig, using Chad’s dilemma as a would-be go-getter to explore how masculinity feeds into Hollywood’s notions of power and success. Not every laugh lands, but audiences will sympathize with the beleaguered Chad and root for Alan’s comeuppance.
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”Notes on the Land of Earthquake and Fire” runs through August 29 at the New York International Fringe Festival. For tickets and more information, please visit FringeNYC.org.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Fringe/Penumbra
Reviewed by Ilana Novick
Writer/performer Anthony Fascious Martinez is a rapper, not a storyteller. That’s why he tries to fill his one-man show, Penumbra—about growing up with a single mother in the Bronx (his father is “working,” that is, in jail)—with audio and video supplements (recordings of family members, his personal drawings).
What he needs to do, however, is slow down: he jumps too quickly between stories of himself and various family members, that it’s hard to pinpoint which events involve him, and which may have taken place decades ago. Martinez’s strength is less in storytelling, and more in music. Singing as well as rapping a few of the sections, including one about first finding out his father went to jail, is one way he attempts to stand out.
His lyrical flow and choice of beats is a start, but does not quite make up for the subject matter, or the lack of continuity in his storytelling. These are immigrant stories told with an appealing mixture of humor and regret, but unfortunately for Martinez, Penumbra joins a crowded field of growing up in the hood/immigration to New York stories Penumbra might have been stronger without both the audio recordings and video clips, and more opportunities for Martinez to showcase his musical skills. That’s what gives Penumbra an edge in the popular field of immigrant stories.
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Penumbra (75 minutes, no intermission)
The Actor's Playhouse (100 Seventh Avenue South)
Tickets available at fringenyc.org or at Fringe Central at 54 Crosby Street ($15)
Performances August 26 at 8pm, and August 29th at 10pm.
Writer/performer Anthony Fascious Martinez is a rapper, not a storyteller. That’s why he tries to fill his one-man show, Penumbra—about growing up with a single mother in the Bronx (his father is “working,” that is, in jail)—with audio and video supplements (recordings of family members, his personal drawings).
What he needs to do, however, is slow down: he jumps too quickly between stories of himself and various family members, that it’s hard to pinpoint which events involve him, and which may have taken place decades ago. Martinez’s strength is less in storytelling, and more in music. Singing as well as rapping a few of the sections, including one about first finding out his father went to jail, is one way he attempts to stand out.
His lyrical flow and choice of beats is a start, but does not quite make up for the subject matter, or the lack of continuity in his storytelling. These are immigrant stories told with an appealing mixture of humor and regret, but unfortunately for Martinez, Penumbra joins a crowded field of growing up in the hood/immigration to New York stories Penumbra might have been stronger without both the audio recordings and video clips, and more opportunities for Martinez to showcase his musical skills. That’s what gives Penumbra an edge in the popular field of immigrant stories.
-------------------------------------------
Penumbra (75 minutes, no intermission)
The Actor's Playhouse (100 Seventh Avenue South)
Tickets available at fringenyc.org or at Fringe Central at 54 Crosby Street ($15)
Performances August 26 at 8pm, and August 29th at 10pm.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Fringe/Clemenza and Tessio Are Dead
BY ELLEN WERNECKE
What’s it really like being a mobster? Turns out it’s a whole lot of waiting, according to Gregg Greenberg’s “Clemenza and Tessio Are Dead,” a self-aware show returning to New York for the Fringe after having its world premiere last fall at the Broadway Comedy Club. Constantly invoking “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead,” the play (which Greenberg directed as well as wrote) follows the events of “The Godfather” through the perspective of two low-level mobsters in the Corleone organization, constantly forced to judge their shifting positions as the next generation takes over the family business.
Nervous Tessio (Dennis Wit) prefers to fall in line with the Don, while Clemenza (Frank Senger), believing they will be cut out of the succession, concocts a darker scheme. The tone ricochets between “Office Space”-style tedium (including an incompetent game of Go Fish and a deliciously incorrect retelling of “Hamlet”) and the darker schemes of the Coppola original, but Senger and Wit keep the banter rolling, and Greenberg manages to bring them back into the fold for a fascinating finale with the help of Troy Dane, who ably portrays every other character in the Corleone fold.
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“Clemenza and Tessio are Dead” runs through August 29 at the New York International Fringe Festival. For tickets and more information, please visit FringeNYC.org.
What’s it really like being a mobster? Turns out it’s a whole lot of waiting, according to Gregg Greenberg’s “Clemenza and Tessio Are Dead,” a self-aware show returning to New York for the Fringe after having its world premiere last fall at the Broadway Comedy Club. Constantly invoking “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead,” the play (which Greenberg directed as well as wrote) follows the events of “The Godfather” through the perspective of two low-level mobsters in the Corleone organization, constantly forced to judge their shifting positions as the next generation takes over the family business.
Nervous Tessio (Dennis Wit) prefers to fall in line with the Don, while Clemenza (Frank Senger), believing they will be cut out of the succession, concocts a darker scheme. The tone ricochets between “Office Space”-style tedium (including an incompetent game of Go Fish and a deliciously incorrect retelling of “Hamlet”) and the darker schemes of the Coppola original, but Senger and Wit keep the banter rolling, and Greenberg manages to bring them back into the fold for a fascinating finale with the help of Troy Dane, who ably portrays every other character in the Corleone fold.
---
“Clemenza and Tessio are Dead” runs through August 29 at the New York International Fringe Festival. For tickets and more information, please visit FringeNYC.org.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Fringe/His Greatness
Dan Domingues, Peter Goldfarb, Michael Busillo in His GreatnessReviewed by Cindy Pierre
Daniel MacIvor's His Greatness is a very entertaining play about the last two days of Tennessee Williams' life. Loosely based on facts, the play is mostly fiction, but it's as a good a theory as any about what may have happened to the Pulitzer-winning playwright before he died. The show takes place entirely in a hotel room in Canada (likely the Hotel Elysee in NY where Williams' body was found), where a late-rising, almost petulant Williams (Peter Goldfarb) spends much of the time in bed, attended by his young assistant/lover (Dan Domingues).
From the very beginning, MaciIvor establishes the things that he thinks made Williams' life go round, at least at the end: drugs, alcohol, sex with young men, sleep, and the hope that he would be able to produce more greatness in his work. Despite several flubbed lines, the otherwise engaging performers make the most out of MacIvor's fantastic script. This production is theatricality at its best: airs upon airs, a feisty young man (Michael Busillo) that challenges the routines of a somewhat happy home, inevitable drama and angst in a long-term relationship, rousing piano clips from Daniel Kluger, and good direction from Tom Gualtieri to streamline it all. MacIvor may have been referring to Williams when he gave his work the title “His Greatness”, but the name just as easily applies to the quality of his own writing.
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His Greatness (Running time: 1 Hour, 55 minutes)
The Cherry Lane Theatre (38 Commerce Street, between 7th avenue and Hudson Street)
Tickets: $15. www.fringenyc.org
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His Greatness (Running time: 1 Hour, 55 minutes)
The Cherry Lane Theatre (38 Commerce Street, between 7th avenue and Hudson Street)
Tickets: $15. www.fringenyc.org
Fringe/6 Seconds in Charlack
Reviewed by Cindy Pierre
As the old saying goes, “You only get one chance at true love.” Some people laugh that off. Not Brian Golden, whose 6 Seconds in Charlack follows that theory to its bitter end. Bard (Andy Wagner), a young lawyer-to-be, is torn between a wholesome, by-the-books nurse named Penny (Allison Walton) and the memories of a carefree, sexy dreamer named Candy (Christena Dogrell). The character names are appropriate: Penny is the sensible, current girlfriend, while Candy is the tempter that he met before her. Once you understand that, you have everything that you need to get through this uneven drama.
Although the material and the performances are mostly humdrum or predictable, the music, calling to mind the romance and beauty of Captain Corelli's Mandolin (sans mandolin), is not. However, every time Ned Cray strums his guitar and transports us to another world, Wagner's unnecessary yelling snaps us out of it. The music is also not supported by Golden's script. Although there are moments where the dialogue could have been poetic and passionate, the script and the performers don't mesh. Patrick Mills does a decent job with directing by creating smooth entries and exits for his cast, but the romantic and nostalgic moments between the actors are often stunted by a lack of confidence or a lack of chemistry. Bard may have his hands much too full with lawyering, fixing typewriters, writing novels, moving, and mucking up a relationship, but all of this activity still doesn't make him or the story interesting. Throw in an unsatisfying ending, and what you have in 6 Seconds in Charlack is a production that needs much more time to develop.
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6 Seconds in Charlack (Running time: 90 minutes)
CSV Cultural and Educational Center: Flamboyan (107 Suffolk Street, between Rivington and Delancey Streets)
Tickets: $15. www.fringenyc.org
As the old saying goes, “You only get one chance at true love.” Some people laugh that off. Not Brian Golden, whose 6 Seconds in Charlack follows that theory to its bitter end. Bard (Andy Wagner), a young lawyer-to-be, is torn between a wholesome, by-the-books nurse named Penny (Allison Walton) and the memories of a carefree, sexy dreamer named Candy (Christena Dogrell). The character names are appropriate: Penny is the sensible, current girlfriend, while Candy is the tempter that he met before her. Once you understand that, you have everything that you need to get through this uneven drama.
Although the material and the performances are mostly humdrum or predictable, the music, calling to mind the romance and beauty of Captain Corelli's Mandolin (sans mandolin), is not. However, every time Ned Cray strums his guitar and transports us to another world, Wagner's unnecessary yelling snaps us out of it. The music is also not supported by Golden's script. Although there are moments where the dialogue could have been poetic and passionate, the script and the performers don't mesh. Patrick Mills does a decent job with directing by creating smooth entries and exits for his cast, but the romantic and nostalgic moments between the actors are often stunted by a lack of confidence or a lack of chemistry. Bard may have his hands much too full with lawyering, fixing typewriters, writing novels, moving, and mucking up a relationship, but all of this activity still doesn't make him or the story interesting. Throw in an unsatisfying ending, and what you have in 6 Seconds in Charlack is a production that needs much more time to develop.
-------------------------------------------
6 Seconds in Charlack (Running time: 90 minutes)
CSV Cultural and Educational Center: Flamboyan (107 Suffolk Street, between Rivington and Delancey Streets)
Tickets: $15. www.fringenyc.org
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Fringe/Deathwatch
Reviewed by Ilana Novick
In Jean Genet’s Deathwatch (translated by David Ruskin), a Lord of the Flies in a French prison play, Maurice (Stephanie Smith) and LeFranc (Katherine MacDonald), are forced to share a prison cell with Green Eyes (Carissa Cordes), a notorious killer. They are not so much scared of him, as they are self-conscious that their own crimes pale in comparison. On a bare stage, with only a cot for furniture, the play revolves around their competition to show who is the strongest. The prisoners change allegiances more often than middle school girls competing for school popularity, a metaphor drawn by the choice to have these male characters portrayed by women. The boyish Maurice flashes almost tender expressions of longing towards Green Eyes, adding a subtle undercurrent of homoeroticism. LeFranc demonstrates resoluteness as he refuses to cry even as Green Eyes belittles his “minor” crimes (minor, at least, in comparison to the murder of a defenseless girl). MacDonald’s stiff upper lip and wincing eyes are a model of toughness in the face of taunting: one almost feels sorry for Maurice. This ends up playing to Deathwatch’s strength, as now the prisoners reveal an even greater truth about the world outside. It’s a bleak play, with little in the way of humor to balance the ever present competition. However, both the gender twist and the conviction of the actors makes the bleakness bearable. It’s not pleasant, but it still rings true. Even in the small space of a cell, the urge to compete is ever present.
-------------------------------------------
Deathwatch (75 minutes; no intermission)
The Cherry Pit (155 Bank Street)
Tickets available at www.fringenyc.org or at Fringe Central, 54 Crosby Street ($15)
Performances August 25-26 at 10pm and 3:15pm, and August 28-29, at 10pm and 12:45pm
In Jean Genet’s Deathwatch (translated by David Ruskin), a Lord of the Flies in a French prison play, Maurice (Stephanie Smith) and LeFranc (Katherine MacDonald), are forced to share a prison cell with Green Eyes (Carissa Cordes), a notorious killer. They are not so much scared of him, as they are self-conscious that their own crimes pale in comparison. On a bare stage, with only a cot for furniture, the play revolves around their competition to show who is the strongest. The prisoners change allegiances more often than middle school girls competing for school popularity, a metaphor drawn by the choice to have these male characters portrayed by women. The boyish Maurice flashes almost tender expressions of longing towards Green Eyes, adding a subtle undercurrent of homoeroticism. LeFranc demonstrates resoluteness as he refuses to cry even as Green Eyes belittles his “minor” crimes (minor, at least, in comparison to the murder of a defenseless girl). MacDonald’s stiff upper lip and wincing eyes are a model of toughness in the face of taunting: one almost feels sorry for Maurice. This ends up playing to Deathwatch’s strength, as now the prisoners reveal an even greater truth about the world outside. It’s a bleak play, with little in the way of humor to balance the ever present competition. However, both the gender twist and the conviction of the actors makes the bleakness bearable. It’s not pleasant, but it still rings true. Even in the small space of a cell, the urge to compete is ever present.
-------------------------------------------
Deathwatch (75 minutes; no intermission)
The Cherry Pit (155 Bank Street)
Tickets available at www.fringenyc.org or at Fringe Central, 54 Crosby Street ($15)
Performances August 25-26 at 10pm and 3:15pm, and August 28-29, at 10pm and 12:45pm
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