Jerry Meandering


I did a pre-show lament about the MDA no-longer-Jerry-Lewis Telethon yesterday on my other page, www.scribblers.us. Having watched as much as I could stand of last night’s Lewis-starved broadcast, I realized that an even greater loss can be registered.

The Jerry Lewis Telethon was the last bastion of a certain type of TV variety show which was wholly dependent on the mystique of live performance. The odd intros, the use of a large stage and a live audience, and especially the bookings were a welcome throwback to the Ed Sullivan Show, and to vaudeville before that. The show’s bookings leant towards performers with live stage experience: improv comics, stand-ups, ventriloquists, the casts of Broadway shows. Even the bands—country acts, Cheap Trick, Beatles tributes—were generally those who’d built up their reputations as concert attractions.

That wasn’t evident last night. The cameras came in so tight on the hosts that they might as well have been in a closed studio. The intros were perfunctory. Many of the music acts were reliant on backing studio tracks and may even have been lip synching. The old Lewis shows let acts roam free on the vast stage. Last night the performers were reined in.

So losing Jerry Lewis wasn’t all. And that was more than enough to lose. A manic marathon performer long before he entered the telethon game, when Lewis was still a double act with Dean Martin they’d do dozens of live sets a week. When the team broke up, Lewis became a breakneck filmmaker, filming his directorial debut The Bellboy in under a month at a hotel in Florida—while performing in the hotel’s nightclub every night! He was a high artist of the longform entertainment spectacle, whether as host of the 1959 Academy Awards telecast (for which Lewis had to vamp and vamp when the show ran short), in his jam-packed theater tours (just him and a big band) or in his decades as chairman and MC of the MDA show.

Outside of all-night strip clubs or the occasional Eugene O’Neill revival, there are simply no breeding grounds today which build that sort of entertainment stamina. And even when there were, Jerry Lewis stood out as one of the world’s best marathon funnymen.

Frequent shout-outs to the eminent Mr. Lewis, plus a video-clip finale in his honor, only demonstrated the vacuum now at the core of the MDA Telethon. Shortening the show from 20-plus hours was meaningless; it was boring from the get-go, too tightly composed and too earnest to be entertaining.

Nigel Lithgoe made much of having been “passed the torch” by being allowed to sit in Lewis’ chair when Lithgoe co-hosted the overnight shift at last year’s ‘thon. I remember Lithgoe making a big deal of it when it happened last year as well; was he being quietly groomed back then? Probably not—the chair was used by plenty of others, including Norm Crosby. ‘Twas not a throne.

MDA apparently raised a couple million more dollars than it did last year. But since much of that tally was simply acknowledging dollars which had been stuffed in boots and pledged on bits of supermarket cardboard for the entire year since last year’s telethon, that total is hardly a moratorium on Lewis’ service. It could be years before his absence is felt monetarily. Not so the broadcast, however—where were the jokes? The surprises? The bizarre intros and mispronunciations? The sycophantic check-handers, awed to be in Lewis’ presence? Without him on hand, watching the telethon was like watching Damn Yankees without the Devil, or a college without the Nutty Professor. Perhaps they had good cause to replace him (we still don’t know why he left), but they didn’t replace him; they just reenlisted his former sidekicks and sub-hosts.

Life-threatening illness has never been the main attraction. If they could just run that phone number and expect you to call in, they’d do it. There are a slew of reasons, whether selfless or self-serving, to do a telethon.

I direct you to this parody of a children’s primer, from the very first issue of Paul Krassner’s Realist magazine. It holds up just as well as Lewis did all those years.

http://www.ep.tc/realist/01/25.html

Categories: Stand-Up Comedy, Television, Vaudeville | Leave a comment

Yale Cabaret Commences


Something sold, something flew, something Bergman and… a lot of things they haven’t told us about yet. The Yale Cabaret has changed hands as it does every Autumn. The new team has announced the first three shows of the ten or so they have planned for this semester.

Sept. 15-17: Slaves, a musical performance featuring three actors, “each of which is a slave to the other… put to work in the theater, for us…” The two female performers, Adina Verson and Jillian Taylor, both did exceptional work in the Yale Summer Cabaret Shakespeare Festival season that just ended—Verson as Ariel in the Tempest and Rosalind in As You Like It, Taylor in the title role of the history-play conglomeration Rose-Mark’d Queen. Their Slaves castmate Chris Henry distinguished himself in the ensemble cast of Romeo & Juliet at the Yale Rep last season. All three were in the original musical Jib at the Yale School of Drama last winter. Slaves’ script and music are by Yale dramaturgy student Sunder Gangliani, with “additional text” by Paul Celan and Ariana Reines” and “additional music” by Ben Sharony.

Sept. 22-24: HUNDREDYEARSPACETRIP. Another original, form-bending piece, this one devised for players who create “an uncompromising piece of entertainment that investigates the connections between human ambition in art, in science and in family.” Co-creators Kate Attwell (like Slaves’ Sunder Gangliani, a YSD dramaturgy student) and Nina Segal work under the collective title We Buy Gold, joined by Brenda Meaney (Caliban in the Summer Cabaret’s Tempest, various Dukes in As You Like It) and Ryan Davis.

Following the century-long rocket voyage, there’s a weekend off. Then…

Oct. 6-8: Persona, a fresh adaptation of the Ingmar Bergman film by Alexandru Mihail. Mihail was responsible for the extraordinary environmental/interactive Cabaret production of Chekhov’s The Wedding last spring, and is slated slated to direct Chekhov’s The Seagull as his thesis project at the Yale School of Drama next semester. Bergman’s Autumn Sonata, of course, was given a lavish stage reinterpretation at the end of the Yale Rep’s 2010-11 season by Robert Woodruff. Mihail was the Assistant Director for the new musica that opened that same Rep season, We Have Always Lived in the Castle.Persona, an extremely intimate, personality-morphing drama about a disabled actress and her caretaker, stars Laura Gragtmans, Monique Barbee, Lucas Dixon and Emily Reilly.

This is the 44th season of the Yale Cabaret, which began (in the same underground space where it still is now) during the Robert Brustein years of the School of Drama. Shows get five public performances Thursday at 8 p.m. and Friday & Saturday at 8 & 11 p.m. (plus a late Thursday one for classmates only). Food and drinks are served before shows. Details here.

Categories: Yale Cabaret | Leave a comment

The Alternative Music Man


Considering how The Beatles pointed a lot of people towards this particular show, I’ve always been surprised at how few pop-music acts have exploited The Music Man. The relatively few contemporary acts who’ve dipped into The Music Man’s score have done so far too timidly. This is a show that mocks parents’ consternation at the threat of a teen revolution. The opening number replicates the thunder of a steam locomotive. Why is this not grist for gritty rock covers?

Maybe punk bands figure Buddy Hackett’s slurring, drooling, pogoing interpretation of “Shipoopi” (replete with simulated-fart dance moves) has already taken the song as far as it could ever go.

Music Man multi-threat Meredith Willson (who wrote the show’s book, lyrics and score) deserves to have more of his tunes hit the rock trail. Beyond wrote the University of Iowa football team fight son and such radio pop hits as “You and I,” “I See the Moon” and “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Chrstmas.” Willson’s mentioned in the current issue of Nostalgia Digest, a magazine devoted to the golden age of radio, as an early Music Director at the major West Coast radio station KFRC in the late 1920s and early ‘30s.

Here are some of the wilder interpretations of Music Man songs I’ve uncovered. Which, unfortunately, are about as wild as a straitlaced River City librarian.

Iowa Stubborn: Jimmy Guiffre. The jazz clarinetist (who died in 2008) did an entire album of freewheeling instrumental interpretations of Music Man tunes. He gets honors here for even bothering with the rangy, misshapen melody of “Iowa Stubborn.”

Trouble: Spanky and Our Gang, the pristine ‘60s harmony pop group beloved by those who thought the Mamas & the Papas needed one less Mama and more Papas, include Harold Hill’s pool-hall rabble-rouser on their debut album, sticking it on side one right before their pure pop singles “Sunday Will Never Be the Same.” (On side two, Spanky & Our Gang cover “Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?). “Trouble” is done in a disarmingly straightforward, low-key fashion eschewing the overproduced sweetness the group became known for. It’s a solo male voice backed with the usual chorus of “townsfolk” muttering “Trouble!” The musical backing could be called unorthodox, since it’s a banjo and not an orchestra, but you do feel that an opportunity has been missed here in claiming the song more firmly for a Summer of Love rock audience. (Runners-up: Tyne Daly with Boston Pops; Seth MacFarlane’s blistering parody done for the Writers Guild of America Awards.

Goodnight My Someone: Les Paul and Mary Ford. The guitar icon plays the country-porch lament with bite, while his wife sweetens the vocals. (Runner-up: Jessica Molaskey’s contemporary pop rendition, which gives the tune more of a lonely-in-the-big-city vibe.)

76 Trombones: Dan Zanes did this and several other Music Man songs on one of his kid-friendly Dan Zanes & Friends. I interviewed Zanes about the project last year when he played the International Festival of Arts & Ideas in New Haven, for which trombonists (and other brass-players) from across the state were invited to march about the Green in a “76 Trombones” finale; far fewer than 76 showed up.
In my interview with Zanes, the former Del Fuegos frontman was refreshingly candid about where he felt the project had failed. He’d been offered unusual freedom to rearrange a slew of Broadway standards, hoping that the showtunes fit with the populist folk attitude he’d been pushing for all his family-friendly projects. Many of the songs frustrated his aims, either because they were so character- or plot-connected or because their complex arrangements didn’t strip down easily enough. It’s clear that Zanes felt comfortable with The Music Man; besides making “76 Trombones” the title track of his showtune showcase, he also covers “Goodnight, My Someone” and (as a medley) “Gary, Indiana” and “Wells Fargo Wagon.”

Pick a Little Talk a Little: Title of a Sex and the City episode.

Sadder But Wiser Girl: Again, Seth MacFarlane’s done it (on his forthcoming Music is Better Than Words big-band album).

Good Night Ladies: An arrangement for the Baby Genius series (one of those spurious attempts to stimulate intelligence through cheesy music) puts something of a disco beat to the shouty lullabye.

Shipoopi: There’s a weird, plaintive rendition by Gregg Nestor & Tommy Morgan on their eclectic album Classic Musicals for Harmonica and Guitar. Runner-up: Peter Griffin’s “This calls for a victory tune” rendition on the Patriot Games episode of Seth McFarlane’s series Family Guy, which resurfaced on the live-action Family Guy Presents: Seth & Alex’s Almost Live Comedy Show special in 2009.

Lida Rose: The only challenge in covering this barbershop quartet standard, apparently, is in upping the number of voices in it. Andy Williams performs it with four young Osmond Brothers (and, once the tune merges into “Sweet and Low”, their then-3-year-old sister Marie) on his variety show 1962. Jerold Ottley does it (and “Will I Ever Tell You”) with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

Gary Indiana: Janet Planet makes a cabaret patter song out of it, like The Waters of March flowed through there or something.

Till There Was You: Beatles, yes, but also Rod Stewart (on one of his insufferable American Songbooks), The Smithereens (on their Meet The Beatles remake Meet The Smithereens), Ray Charles…

Categories: Lists, Rock Theater | 2 Comments

Plays to Anticipate Hurricane Irene By


So how come nobody’s ever made Stormy Weather into a stage musical? No matter; here are ten stormy stage events for those in the path of the hurricane.

Sturm und Drang by Friedrich Maximilian Klinger. It’s the work that coined that phrase, in 1776. The play’s actually about the American Revolution.

Dynamo by Eugene O’Neill. Big splashy thunderstorm finale. One of O’Neill’s most underrated works. It underwhelmed the critics at its premiere, and the playwright blamed himself for not having gotten as involved in the production as he had been with previous ones.

Barefoot in the Park by Neil Simon. “I’m going to be shoveling snow in my own living room!”

Three Days of Rain by Richard Greenberg. We all know what that means.

The Tempest by William Shakespeare. “Here’s neither bush nor shrub, to bear off
any weather at all, and another storm brewing. I hear it sing i’ the wind: yond’ same black cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor.”

Porgy and Bess by Ira Gershwin, Dubose Heyward and George Gershwin. The hurricane that bombards Catfish Row at the end of Act 2 has just been bested by the furor arising from Porgy purists upset at some of the changes Diane Paulus and Suzan-Lori Parks have made for their revised version at the ART.

To Gleam It Around, To Show My Shine by Bonnie Lee Moss Rattner. A 1983 play based on Zora Neale Hurston’s Okeechobee Hurrican-struck story Their Eyes Were Watching God. It’s had productions at several college and regional theaters.

Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford. The 1921 movie version of this 1910 George M. Cohan play (based on short stories by George Randolph Chester) was showing at the Knickerbocker Theatre in Washington DC in January of 1922 when the building’s roof collapsed due to snowfall from a blizzard that had raged for over two days. Ninety-eight people died and over a hundred others were injured in the crash. The storm ended up being named after the theater: The Knickerbocker Storm.

The Storm by Ostrovsky. Turned into an opera by Janacek. It’s mostly metaphorical, about tempestuous relationships and personal revelations which resound like thunderbolts, but there is a weather-type storm in there somewhere too.

Irene. The musical comedy based on the James Montgomery play Irene O’Dare was, in its time, the longest running show in Broadway history. Songs from two decades-apart versions of this show—“You Made Me Love You” and “Alice Blue Gown” can be heard this November in the new musical Hello! My Baby at Goodspeed Musicals’ Norma Terris Theatre in Chester.
Another hit song from the show, which you could well be humming Sunday: “There’s Something in the Air.”

Categories: Holidays, Lists | Leave a comment

Pardon, my lord; I will not show my face until my husband bid me


I hope that Elm Shakespeare Company’s extraordinary set survives Hurrican Irene. You can help out the company by bidding on items in its online auction fundraiser, here.
The auction closes at 11 a.m. Monday morning, Aug. 29. Something to do while you’re sitting around the house Sunday wishing you could be in Edgerton Park watching Measure for Measure. (The weekend performances were cancelled due to the weather.)
Fifty items are up for auction: tickets, goodie baskets, dinners, spa treatments, vacations… That swell Sanibel Panama Hat from DelMonico’s haberdashery on Elm St. pictured above immediately caught my eye.

Categories: Connecticut Theaters, Elm Shakespeare Company | Leave a comment

Hello! My Baby to be born at the Goodspeed

Image from Hello! My Baby's 2010 presentation at the Festival of New American Musicals.


The final show of Goodspeed Musicals’ 2011 season will be Hello! My Baby, which constructs a fresh “all-American musical valentine” (to quote the press release) out of such hallowed hits of the early 20th century as “Ain’t We Got Fun,” “and “Stairway to Paradise.” The book’s by Cheri Steinkellner, author of the recent Goodspeed offering Princesses, and the music (both the arrangements of the classic songs and some new compositions) will be handled by Georgia Stitt. The work-in-progress was presented earlier this month as part of the Festival of New Musicals at the Village Theater in Seattle, and was performed by teenagers at the Festival of New American Musicals in L.A. in 2010.

Naturally, the Goodspeed got Ray Roderick, the man they’ve come to trust with all their 1920s or ‘30s-styled musicals—Singin’ in the Rain, 42nd Street and, from this very same season, the wondrous My One and Only—to direct. They also got My Own and Only’s choreographer, Kelli Barclay, on board.

I had a line on this news a couple months ago, but held my tongue. I saw Stitt (a wonderful pianist and arranger whom Goodspeed audiences have previously experienced as the Music Director for The Baker’s Wife in 2002), accompany a bunch of top-notch cabaret singers at a private event in Los Angeles. (Thank you, NEA/Annenberg Fellowship!) Chatting with the performers afterward, the Goodspeed gig came up. I figured it would be announced any day, but the theater sent out the press release just last week.

The show runs Nov. 3-27 at the Goodspeed’s Norma Terris Theatre in Chester.

The songs in Hello! My Baby have been covered over the years by everyone from Al Jolson to the cartoon frog in “One Froggy Evening” to Alice Cooper. The show has ringers such as The Gershwins popping up in its hit-filled score, plus Tin Pan Alley heavyweights like Walter Donaldson and Richard Whiting. But look for Hello! My Baby to do a neat resuscitation job on lesser-known early 20th century hitmaker Joseph McCarthy, whose “You Made Me Love You,” “I’m Always Chasing Rainbows” and “Alice Blue Gown” are all featured.

Categories: Connecticut Theaters, Goodspeed Musicals, Previews | Leave a comment

Coup de Krapp at Long Wharf: Dennehy Does Beckett This Fall

Brian Kennedy looking like Krapp at the Goodman Theatre in Chicago three years ago. The Jennifer Tarver-directed production of Krapp's Last Tape brings Dennehy back to the Long Wharf Theatre this fall.

Brian Dennehy’s coming back to Long Wharf Nov. 29-Dec. 18 to finish what he started a few years ago.
In 2008, Dennehy and Joe Grifasi brought their bravura version of Eugene O’Neill’s Hughie to Long Wharf Stage II. It’s an established production which they’d brought to several other theaters before Long Wharf (which, coincidentally, had produced a Hughie starring Al Pacino and Paul Benedict in the 1990s).
But that very year, Dennehy had begun exploring Hughie in the context of a later one-act play by an Irish playwright: Samuel Beckett’s Krapp’s Last Tape. Dennehy did the shows as a double bill at the Stratford Shakespeare Festival in June of ’08 and did them together again at the Goodman Theater in 2010.
It was hope, nay expected, that Dennehy would do both Hughie and Krapp’s Last Tape at Long Wharf three years ago. Instead we got Hughie, which turned out to be quite a full evening in itself given Robert Falls’ stage-spanning direction and Eugene Lee’s layered, detailed, stairs-to-nowhere set design.
Now, at long last, New Haven’s getting Krapp’s Last Tape. The play (written for one man and a reel-to-reel tape machine) has been around for over half a century, beloved by small theaters, fringe theaters and college theater groups. Dennehy apparently hasn’t performed it since those Ontario and Chicago double-bills, so this may be the first time his Krapp has stood on its own.
Even when they were done together, Dennehy enlisted different directors for the O’Neill and Beckett plays. Krapp’s Last Tape is directed by Jennifer Tarver, known for her work with provocative modern playwrights such as George Walker and Will Eno, as well as lots of operas.

Categories: Connecticut Theaters, Long Wharf Theatre, Previews | 1 Comment

Fringeing from Afar



I’ve never been to Edinburgh. Been to big arts festivals in Europe, but never been to THE big arts festival. Don’t really enjoy being overwhelmed, but of course wish I could be there, and can’t resist slavishly reading the news coverage and reviews.

In a future post I hope to list some of the more interesting Edinburgh Fringe events I’ve read about. For now, while it’s still happening, here’s how I personally choose to vicariously indulge in that far-away festival:

On my iPhone:
The Edinburgh Festival Fringe app has detailed blurbs for all known performances, and also gives a sense of the venues involved.

On my Kindle:
The Edinburgh Reporter. A hyperlocal news blog which picks a handful of Fringe shows to review every day. (I prefer reading blogs on Kindle. I simply read them more often and more comfortably in that format.) The selections tend to be more random and more community-centered than all the national news outlets which are chasing the celebrities or the next big things. In any case, it’s nice to get a sense of what Edinburgh is like outside the Fringe.

On my internet radio:
BBC Radio 3 has a series called Edinburgh Comedy Fest Live while the new BBC Radio 4 Extra (an online channel largely concerned with reruns of theater and comedy programs) has MacAulay and Company, daily interviews with comedians at the Fringe. Both shows, and most of the radio coverage I’ve encountered, are centered around the festival’s comedy offerings and don’t pretend to have a way of covering the more dramatic, conceptual or multi-media offerings at the Edinburgh Fringe. For many people Edinburgh is now a comedy festival foremost.

Online newspaper:
The Guardian (www.guardian.co.uk) has a pretty good sense of who the up-and-comers are and which shows are getting the buzz. Solid longform reviews.

Old books:
Scottish writer/artist Alasdair Gray’s extraordinary novel 1982, Janine partly takes place in Edinburgh during a time when the festival was already huge, but when the fringe was still largely owned by college students with fanciful conceptual projects. The book chronicles a long tortured time spent in a hotel room by a downtrodded middle-aged man who’s carefully weaving a masturbatory fantasy out of pivotal incidents and images in his life. One important relationship transpires during a fringe theater production in Edinburgh.
1982, Janine is wildly romantic, self-loathing, pornographic and vomitous in turns, but I’ve found that the Edinburgh Fringe bits have stuck with me more than its celebrated depressive musings and redemptive regurgitation. Gray uses Edinburgh as a playground for young idealists the same way Sondheim & Furth use Sputnik as a metaphor for sky-high dreams in their Merrily We Roll Along.

Old recordings:
Beyond the Fringe. The original soundtrack to the Peter Cook/Dudley Moore/Alan Bennett/Jonathan Miller stage show holds up better than most of the Fringe revues which came in its wake. One of the most influential stage shows of the 20th century, it virtually defined what a fringe show could and should be: relevant, intelligent, immediate, charismatic and adaptable to other climes once those first hardy audiences “get it.”

Categories: European Theater | Leave a comment

The Threads of a Spider Web Review


Threads of a Spider Web
Written by Annie DiMartino. Music written by Carol Taubl, Jack Taubl, Sam Taubl James Taubl, Jeremiah Taubl and Emily Taubl. Performed by Sam Taubl, Anthony Rockford, Danielle Bonanno, Chelsea Dacey, Jeremiah Taubl, James Taubl, Dawn Williams, Jessica Coppola, Jane Logan, Nina Dicker, Gabriel DiMartino, Marisa Sullivan, Kira Topalian, Bowen Kirwood, Ryan Ronan and Erik Van Eck.

One final performance, 7 p.m. Aug. 27 at Long Wharf Stage II, 222 Sargent Dr., New Haven. (203) 787-4282, longwharf.org. Playing in repertory with the same troupe’s “Shake-It-Up Shakespeare” musical adaptation of Hamlet (7 p.m. Aug. 26).

Having seen this same Summer Youth Theatre ensemble’s rock theater rendition of Hamlet the previous night, I hied back to Long Wharf Stage II Thursday to see how they fared with an original piece (co-written by director Annie DiMartino, music director Carol Taubl and five of Taubl’s children). The stage set-up is identical—a live band at the back of the stage, a useful high platform and several lower platforms on a floor-level playing area. All the performers are high-school aged. All sing, several dance, and some join the band for the lusher string-laden songs.

Thematically, Threads of a Spider Web is a downer—more so than the group’s Hamlet, in the way that it dwells on the emotional after-effects of unthinkable family tragedies more. The songs, many monologues and much of the plot is concerned with loss and how to cope with it. As with Hamlet, the teen cast members play two generations of characters, though this time the ranks are enlivened with a young boy who plays an ill-fated five-year-old.

Where the SYT’s Hamlet let Shakespeare’s dialogue flow directly into lyrics by Queen, Eveanescence and Leonard Cohen, this show lets recitations of Coleridge’s Rime of the Ancient Mariner and other famous poems prepare you for affirmative original soft-rock ballads. There’s less sonic variety than in the Hamlet, but the consistency of tone works for a show with such heavy themes. Staging-wise, Threads of a Spider Web is stylized down to the style of eyeglasses (heavy black frames) which several of the actors wear. It’s casualness and youthfulness is carefully calculated.

There are tragic circumstances involving two of the characters in particular, but all suffer in various ways. While the talk of death and heartbreak will be harrowing for some, the issues which are most relatable to audiences the same age as the teenage cast—worrying about being popular, being tormented by siblings, moving too fast into a longterm relationship—are tastefully and instructively handled. The often beautiful, neatly harmonized musical score underscores the central themes of perseverance and acceptance. The point of trusting one’s inner spirit is driven home not just through poetic muses such as Coleridge, Emily Dickson, William Wordsworth but through other spiritual muses who guide the central mortal characters through their disputes and confusions. Ultimately there are twice as many of these angel characters as there are living ones. The show gets rather crowded with all that spiritual guidance.

Given the preponderance of death and depression, Thursday’s audience was eager to lighten up when allowed, and James Taubl received big laughs for this pop-and-lock dance moves as the muse of “Matt,” played by James’ real-life twin Jeremiah. I found Anthony Rockford, an impressive Gravedigger in the Summer Youth Theatre’s Hamlet, to be an equally warm, upbeat and measured voice in Threads (the guy honestly interacts with whoever else is onstage), though he has considerably less to do than the main characters and their respective muses and/or mentors.

Threads of a Spider Web, a work in progress just getting on its feet before audiences, still shows the sort of unnecessary repetitions and overstatements which mark a lot of new work. What’s notable is the confidence and aplomb of the young cast, who flit through this dour narrative gently and knowingly, aware of its pitfalls. There are some gorgeous singing voices to be heard here, and some charming performances all around. It’s all rather Rent-like, without the Bohemianism. A key lyric for the grieving: “Today is Yesterday Tomorrow.”

Categories: Children's Theater, Connecticut Theaters, Long Wharf Theatre, Reviews of Shows | 1 Comment

The Elm Shakespeare Measure for Measure Review

Curtain call from the Aug. 20 performance of Measure for Measure by the Elm Shakespeare Company in Edgerton Park. Snapped by Christopher Arnott on his iPhone.


Measure for Measure
Continues Aug. 23-28 and Aug. 30-Sept. 4, 8 p.m. outdoors in Edgerton Park, New Haven. (the big park on the New Haven/Hamden line, bordered by Cliff Street between Whitney Ave. and Edgehill Rd.).

By William Shakespeare. Directed by James Andreassi. Set design by Vladimir Shpitalnik. Costume design by Elizabeth Bolster. Lighting Designer/Master Electrician: Jamie Burnett. Sound and Original Music: Dave Stephen Baker. Technical Director: Ellis Benjamin Baker. Choreographer: Kelly Baisden Knudsen. Stage Manager: Amanda Spooner. Performed by Mark Zeisler (Vincentio), Sarah Grace Wilson (Isabella), Matt Cohn (Claudio), Eric Martin Brown (Angelo), Tracy Griswold (Escalus), Aaron Moss (Lucio), Vanessa Soto (Mariana), Aleta Staton (Mistress Overdone), Richard Massery (Pompey/Friar Peter), Michael Peter Smith (Provost), Colin Lane (Elbow), Jeremy Funke (Barnardine), Francesca Smith (Juliet), Kerry Tattar (Clerk/Francisca), Akintunde Sogunro (Abhorson), James Beech (Froth/ensemble), Henry Ayres-Brown and Michelle Johnson (ensemble).

Now, hmmm, the problem a lot of theaters have when doing Measure for Measure is… SWEET JESUS! WILL YOU LOOK AT THAT SET?!!
It’s a gleaming castle, four or five storeys tall (depending how you count), with something like a dozen separate performing areas. The structure towering over Edgerton Park the way the Emerald City does over Oz, or Mohegan Sun does over Uncasville.
Problem play? No way. Not on this set.

Interestingly, the only other really fine Measure for Measure I’ve seen, directed by Mark Rucker at the Yale Rep in 1999, also took advantage of a multi-platformed set and a costume design that appeared to span the 20th century.

(How many Measure for Measures have I seen, you wonder? Certainly it’s still a rarity on the outdoor summer Shakespeare circuit, but Measure for Measure is only considered a rarely produced play if you happen not to live in a college town—or in London, where the Royal Shakespeare Company has done it several times a decade since the 1970s). Personally, I’ve logged something like nine.)

This is a play that demands a broad palette, not to mention real commitment from designers and actors. Nobody’s able to fall back into cliches of Shakespearean comedy or modern melodrama. Comic scenes must follow hard upon descriptions of harsh torture. The plot unwinds awkwarding, its pacing awkward. Much of the action seems based on whimsy, but if the audience doesn’t feel the threats being posed to the characters, there’s no play.

Elm Shakespeare Company founding director James Andreassi and his dozens-strong team of professional actors, skilled designers and up-for-anything student apprentices have anticipated all these obstacles and overcome them. They get it.

An ensemble feel helps. Andreassi wisely likes to invite some actors back year after year, but his company has been around long enough now (16 summers, and over 20 productions) that there’ve been several distinct ensemble phases.

By my count, of the 15 main cast members in Measure for Measure (I’m excluding the teenaged “Elm Scholars” in walk-on roles), six were in A Winter’s Tale last summer and five others have been in previous Elm Shakespeare shows. That brings a smoothness and familiarity to an enterprise that has to exist under pretty precarious conditions., especially for actors. How does the cast feel when audience members answer their cell phones, or keep their oil lanterns or citronella candles brightly lit, or luxuriate on the lawn with dogs or babies during performances (all of which I noted during last Saturday’s performance)? How do they swat bugs off their thick unsummery garments? How many miles does a key player like Mark Zeisler have to log nightly clambering up and down that multi-platformed set?

It’s great to Zeisler back in full control of his Dukely powers, following what I felt was a stumble for this fine actor in last year’s ElmShakes production of A Winter’s Tale. Having essayed rulers of the underworld and ruthless military rulers in such modern anguishes as Sarah Ruhl’s Eurydice and Charles Mee’s Big Love at the Yale Rep and the Long Wharf, Zeisler gets to access the light side he revealed in the Rep’s rendition of King Stag. Of course, Duke Vincentio is a Shakespearean duke, after all, and some of his edicts appear cruel or dangerously casual even when he is professing to be beneficient. But Zeisler glides smoothly around those sticky issues, and makes the most of his time spent disguised in a Monk’s cowl.

The fact that you can’t see the cast sweat, and that they deliver Measure for Measure in such a measured, fluid, accessible manner, makes the Elm Shakespeare Company’s accomplishment all the more impressive. James Andreassi (whom I’ve known casually since he was a student of my father’s at Tufts University in the late 1970s) has not only kept an outdoor Shakespeare troupe going while many others in the country have succumbed to pressures of the current economy, he’s maintained high standards, luring Equity actors and—at least for the last few seasons—escaping the short greatest-hits list of Shakespeare plays (R&J, Hamlet, Macbeth, Midsummer Night’s Dream, The Tempest and few others) which most summer Shakespeare companies feel they can’t move beyond without alienating audiences.

The audience I was with Saturday night went for Measure for Measure without hesitation. It helps that Andreassi always builds big comic set pieces into his productions—here, it’s Colin Lane’s bumpkin constable Elbow whacking himself incessantly with his own nightstick and several saucy bits involving Mistress Overdone (local actress of long renown Aleta Staton) and the ladies of her brothel (one of whom assails Zeisler’s friar with the ad-lib “Hey, Father, what’s under the robe?”). There’s considerable trust on both sides—cast and audience—that this will be an amiable, free-spirited night in Edgerton Park. Even if the plot revolves around imminent execution and evil governmental machinations. Eric Martin Brown, whom I remember from his time as a Yale School of Drama student, is a handsome slender man who seems fated to upstanding leading man roles, so it’s fun watching him sink his teeth into such an unrelentingly nasty part as Angelo.

Angelo is the guy who is suspected by the Duke of undermining his power. So what does the Duke do? Pretend to go on vacation and leave Angelo in complete charge of the dukedom! Whereupon Angelo makes a bunch of hypermoralistic decrees which severely impact the livelihood, not to mention the lives, of the citizenry. As a parable about unchecked authority, of absolute power corrupting absolutely, Measure for Measures works pretty well—if only Shakespeare hadn’t kept the Duke, who returns more powerful than ever, as part of the equation.

Basically, though, the play is an excuse for unfettered frivolity, high suspense and higher dudgeon. The mighty get their comeuppance and the lowly get to scrabble and swear amusingly. Aaron Moss, the antic Autolytus from last summer’s Winter’s Tale, gets another plum comic-relief role as Lucio, who unwittingly talks trash to power. The other key comic supporting role, Pompey, is played by the bearded Richard Massery (veteran of ElmShakes’ Three Musketeers, As You Like It and Much Ado) with queer affectations, but frankly just about every Pompey I’ve ever seen has done a similar gay thing, including a horrendous Michael Boyd production of Measure for Measure done by the Royal Shakespeare Company in 1998 in which Pompey was made to resemble Boy George.

Arch characterizations aside, this is a multi-layered, deeply emotive show where various grieving characters—the vibrant Sarah Grace Wilson as Isabella, whose brother Claudio is marked for death; the sultry Vanessa Soto as the longsuffering Mariana; the weepy Francesca Smith, whose quasi-illicit marriage to Claudio is a cause of his arrest—keep the dramatic level high and hold their own amid the mirth. Matt Cohn as the imprisoned Claudio is able to have it both ways, getting laughs and tears for his torment.

Detail of Vladimir Shpitalnik's Measure for Measure for set, flooded with colored lights.

Again, such range and clarity simply wouldn’t be conceivable in these outdoor conditions without Vladimir Shpitalnik’s masterfully massive scenic design. An accomplished visual artist and illustrator as well as an inspired set designer, Shpitalnik’s local credits range from the interior design of the Oakdale Theatre in Wallingford to sets for chamber operas to the wooden sculptures and puppets which decorated the New Haven Green for many years as part of the International Festival of Arts & Ideas. His set here is both practical and purposefully extravagant. It has flashes of color which blend well with Elizabeth Bolster’s Edwardian-style costumes, yet is plain and clear enough to take the expressive shadows and moods projected upon it by founding Elm Shakespeare technical director (and frequent set designer himself) Jamie Burnett’s subtle lighting.

This is a fresh, perky production which makes the most of the words like “punk” and “urine” which pepper Shakespeare’s script. But this Measure for Measure also has a magnificence and elegance that befits both its Elizabethan origins and its immaculate Edgerton Park surroundings. It succeeds by any measure.

Categories: Connecticut Theaters, Elm Shakespeare Company, Reviews of Shows, Shakespeare | 3 Comments