Unfortunately, grim is the best way to describe Company One’s recent production of Grimm, a retelling of seven classic Brother’s Grimm fairy-tales.  Clocking in at a laborious 2 hours and forty five minutes, these “re-imagined” vignettes were not the dark and thoughtful pieces I had hoped for, but on the whole were a poorly written mishmash strung together by very poor quality voice over recordings from the authors.   Even the undeniably talented actors and actresses giving it their all and the clever set dressings couldn’t compensate for this sloppily written collection.

Giving Gregory Maguire, writer of the popular novel, Wicked, top billing was a good idea for this production, because his name alone got bottoms in the seats.  His play, The Seven Stage A Comeback, was based on a short story he wrote by the same name, in which the seven dwarfs of “Snow White” fame go on a journey seeking answers from White after she “abandons” them to live with the prince.  Though I found it to be a bit arcane, at least it was written with sophisticated language and acted well.  I wish the play wasn’t broken into three parts and performed throughout the night because I found it to be distracting,  both for the play itself and in relation to the other plays.  Not that the plays themselves deserved much scrutiny.

Thanksgiving, by Kristen Greenidge, barely references “Clever Else”, the fairytale it was supposed to be written about.  Heavy handed and sloppy, the only thing saving this soap-opera melodrama is the superb acting work of Nicole Prefontaine,  Becca Lewis and Molly Kimmerling, whose physical and vocal transformation is commendable among the cliche.   Stories about Snakes by Melinda Lopes is barely followable.  The repetitious, sing-song dialog is boring, the acting is stiff and strange,  and the point is completely obscured.  John Kuntz’ Red is a disappointing retelling of “Little Red Riding-hood”- using a supercharged sexual story to try to teach the audience something about trust and power; I just felt uncomfortable during the frankly unsurprising story.  This was my biggest disappointment of the night, considering my obvious affinity for Kuntz’ work.

Marcus Gardley presented the audience with Half-Handsome and Regrettable, one of the most insultingly bad “professional” plays I have ever seen.  I’m not going to apologize for how blunt that sounds because I was completely floored that something so juvenile and poorly written was showcased with the likes of John Kuntz and Gregory Maguire.  Half Handsome and Regrettable was one bad joke and insulting stereotype after another all topped off by a museum guard doing a suggestive dance to “Single Ladies” (so insulting that this pop-culture slapstick is the only way Gardley thought he could get his audience to laugh).   Prefontaine and Mason Sand played the “Hansel” and “Gretel” characters, and even their dedication to the roles didn’t save the train wreck of a script.  I’m shocked that Company One selected this sub-par play to be part of their Grimm collection.

The ultimate problem with this night of re imagined fairy-tales, is the very essence of fairytale in and of itself.  The Brothers Grim crafted masterful stories that were meant to teach the reader subtle lessons about right and wrong in their own  society and culture.  When you extract and twist and reconstitute the stories trying to add layers and dimension, you ultimately strip the stories of their very essence.  Not every tale continues to resonate in our modern culture (Stories about Snakes was a particular failure here).  Of course this can be done to great success (look at all the excellent manifestations of the “Cinderella” story which exist in popular television and film) but when you mess with something that is already perfectly constructed, you run the risk of an even more crushing failure (did you see Sydney White?)  I think this production of Grimm fell a little too far on the side of “crushing failure” more for its desperate attempt to add meaning to stories that already had meaning than for its acting and production value.

Victoria Marsh displays a very notorious apple.

There’s just no show that can capture my heart like a Boston Gay Men’s Chorus concert.  With warm ballads, beat boxing, the worm, a gaggle of dancing cowboys, and a startling tribute led by one of Boston’s finest actors, We the people was no exception to this claim.  It makes sense to talk about this prodigious concert in two parts, as Music Director, Ruben Reynolds must have had in mind when he set them apart in two acts.  First, I’ll discuss the informal celebration of love and peace, and then the “exploration of marriage equality” which came after intermission.

Gwyneth Walker, a distinguished modern composer, is known for her works celebrating the natural peace and beauty of the Earth.  The BGMC performed a trio of her works at the beginning of the concert and I have to say it is the finest I have ever heard them sound.  The beautiful pieces were sophisticatedly caressed by their voices, and the harmonies were perfect.  I felt myself instantly carried away to a better place, and was so enraptured by their ability to shine as a choir in the classic sense without the colorful stage business.  This sweet and warm moment was followed up by a little fun, when, with classic barbershop sound and classic BGMC camp, a quartet of fabulous gentlemen performed “Standing on the Corner” from Losser’s The Most Happy Fella.  They were almost (but not quite) outdone, though, by the tender duet that followed them.  While I don’t usually like to single out individuals in choral groups, I have to say that I was deeply moved by Paul Consoli’s smooth and easy voice in the Gershwin classic, “A Love Story”.  While I enjoyed the several pieces that followed, “A Love Story” echoes in my mind still, as the real defining song from the first half of the concert.  Of course no performance would be complete without the BGMC varsity dance troupe, and I loved their cowboy chic interpretation of the old-time hit, “Cindy”.  What an energizing and fun way to close out the first act!

When the chorus took the stage for the second half of the performance, I don’t think I was fully prepared for the powerful musical exploration I was about to undertake.  My first clue, though, was the arrival of John Kuntz ( He was the writer and sole actor of my favorite show of 2009, The Salt Girl, reviewed here).  Narrating with dynamism, but without interruption, he was a perfect guide as the chorus led us through a series of musical interludes, from “America’s Promise- We Hold These Truths” and “The Objections- They Said No!” songs about the seeds of the battle for the right to marry, right through the powerful conclusion, “The Colors of Love” which celebrated the right for us all to be seen as capable of loving and understanding the importance of unifying families.  True-life testimonials from married couples in the chorus, from long time sign language interpreter, LeWana Clark and her partner, and from former legislator and long time gay right’s activist Marjorie Clapprood (in a stunning ensemble), laced seamlessly through the music, turning it into more of a theatrical one-act than a choral piece.  It was masterful.  Mark Koval, who wrote the music, lyrics, and narration, should be proud.  The piece is ever so much more touching than the stale tribute to community outreach, “The Story of You” that the BGMC performed at their holiday concert.  It had all of the spirit, sophistication, evocative self-reverence and passion that that piece lacked.

I was touched, and moved to tears many times throughout the piece, but it does stand mentioning that their were several staged moments that I found both confusing and superfluous.  Why, for example, were the chorus members holding up blue and red ping-pong paddles seemingly at random throughout the first movement?  There was no rhyme or reason to the action that anyone around us could ascertain, and it was so distracting that I spent most of the time trying to figure it out and not much time listening to the words of the music.  The final movement also produced a seriously overworked rose metaphor in which the choir held up red and yellow roses in possibly the most awkward physical movement ever given to a man in a tuxedo.  I bet it felt as uncomfortable to do as it was for the audience to watch; their facial expressions sure seemed to reflect just that.  The piece was so beautiful and stirring on its own, I think Neil Donohoe really fell on his face here with the staging.  It would have been so much better to let the chorus move us with their beautiful voices and true conviction rather than trying to distract us with strange hand props.

Hand props aside (and that’s where they should stay from now on, aside), I cannot begin to express my undying love and support for this group of phenomenal men.  They continue to touch audiences with their vigilant dedication to the premise that music can do so much more than entertain; it can enlighten, empower, and energize an entire nation.  Thank you, boys.  Looking forward to Divas!

Standing On The Corner

If someone told me that a play that included a man doing a techno dance in a full body panda suit would be my favorite show of 2009, I would never have believed them, and yet sitting here looking over the program for Boston Playwrights Theatre’s The Salt Girl, I cannot help but relive the flood of emotions I felt when I saw this show on Saturday night.  Was it the handfuls of Fruity Pebbles being thrown into the audience?  Perhaps the hunks of celery that Actor and Playwright John Kuntz hacked apart with a meat cleaver and threw at audience members crunching all around me in the otherwise silent theatre?  It could have been the breathtaking set, a wall of televisions glowing ominously and flickering with film clips and pictures, as if we were seeing directly into the mind of the character, or it could have been delightful sound-scape which seamlessly led the audience through time periods and state of mind (Adam Stone should be commended).  I’m not sure I could pinpoint one detail of this thrilling play that could define its perfection, but as my companion and I agreed, we would be forever changed for having seen it.

Staring out into the open theatre space (a miraculous transformation from Little Black Dress) I cannot help but see the set of one of my favorite one-man shows of all time, I Am My Own Wife.  The wall of televisions and lamps is artfully arranged with various items that define the character’s journey- salt canisters, cereal boxes, toy cars, a geranium, a lone cup of pudding, a fish bowl, a garbage can- there are so many small details that they blend together, and the audience delights in seeing them appear again throughout the show as each item takes on their symbolic significance in the character’s journey.  Lighting by Jeff Adelberg highlights these moments subtly and perfectly.

Throughout The Salt Girl, Kuntz, as sullen, hollow-eyed, Quint, takes us on a dark journey through the life of his character.  Part monologue, part narrative, we see him through a variety of ages and we watch him embody several different characters.  Young Quint is rebellious and angry, working through the death of his sister and mother through reckless behavior and packages of self-narrated audiotapes.  Older Quint is solitary and particular as he faces the impossible task of ending life support for a father he has been estranged from for 18 years.  In between those two different manifestations of “Quint” is a lifetime of pain and discovery, each moment compellingly and sensitively illustrated for the audience.  Kuntz is harrowing- at times so funny that it’s hard to catch your breath (as in the genius drive-thru window scene) and in the next moment, so darkly heartbreaking that the tears in your eyes take you by surprise.  Despite the roller coaster of emotions, the show is never too dark or too heavy, and every serious moment is earned by his strong stage presence.  He deserves an award for the stamina required of him just to work through the character of Quint on stage, let alone the fact that he embodied this character throughout the writing and rehearsal process of this piece.  I was a little harsh on Kuntz in my review of The Superheroine Monologues, but not here.  The Salt Girl is masterful.

A word about nudity.  I hate it.  I almost always end up disliking shows where actors take their clothes off on stage.  I cannot rationalize the need to pull the audience out of the flow of the story by allowing an actor to get naked.  I just cannot be convinced that what might be a very poignant moment just cannot happen while the audience members are screaming “penis!”, “boobies!” in their heads.  It just can’t happen.  When I read the sign in the lobby of the theatre warning us that this show contained nudity, I was extremely skeptical.  When Kuntz took off his clothes near the end of the second act though, I was breathless- I didn’t even notice what was happening.  It marked the only successful interaction I have ever had with a nude actor where I didn’t feel uncomfortable and slightly grossed out.  He was confident and calm- not a single muscle in his body held nervous tension, even in a somewhat awkward masturbation scene.  Again the lighting was superb here, giving us neither too much or too little exposure.  When the show was over we couldn’t help but comment on the nude scene- and not in the usual way with giggles and jabs.  It was impeccably done.

If you see anything at all in what remains of 2009, see this show.  Run, do not walk to get tickets before it is too late.  It was perfect. The show runs through Sunday, November 22^nd at normal show-time intervals (their website has all the exacts).

Kuntz as Quint

One of the best things about new works is their infinite possibility to change and adapt.  It was great to see the growth that was made in the encore of Company One and Phoenix Theatre Artist’s production of The Superheroine Monologues.  I enjoyed the premiere of the piece earlier this year at The Boston Playwrights Theatre, but I could also see the need for revisions and condensing.  I was looking forward to seeing the show again in the MUCH more convenient Boston Center for the Arts. Greg Maraio and Jared Fennelly did a great job adapting the scenic design into the more compact space of the BCA’s black box theater.

One of the major strengths of this piece is the cleverly crafted frame of superheroines throughout the decades- the audience took delight in watching the characters develop through each time period, touching not just the obvious stereotypes from the generation but also the more intimate female experience (tying it in nicely with the theme of the Vagina Monologues from which the show parodied its title).  The actresses do a terrific job of embodying the essence of their given generation, especially Cheryl D. Singleton’s powerful portrayal of Storm as an independent and strong black woman of the 90’s.

Singleton was not the only strong actress in the cast.  In fact, I would say that the cast was one of the best things that the show had going for it, overall.  For a show that lasted well over two hours (closer to three, after all was said and done) it’s a good thing the actresses were as strong as they were, because at times the writing was not good enough to keep the audience interested for solid fifteen minute stretches of one person speaking.  Molly Kimmerling went on as the understudy for Supergirl in the Friday evening performance, and she was perky and fun. She did justice to Jackie McCoy, who originated the role with style.  Christine Power as Phoenix and Shawna O’Brien as Wonder Woman were absolutely wonderful.  Each had essence of a well-cherished character with the subtle nuance of reinvention.  The Wonder Woman monologue, which dominates the first act of the show, is an excellent revision from the original, giving more continuity to the rest of the monologues and giving O’Brien a chance to shine dramatically.  Though all the actresses stood out at one time or another, the hands-down phenomenal performance award would go to Amanda Good Hennessey as Lois Lane.  She had extraordinary comic timing, delicate but articulate mannerisms, and a dizzying vocal speed that made her very long monologue fly by (literally!).  Hennessey only got better since the original run.  It was worth seeing the show for her performance alone. Props to director Greg Maraio for helping this cast find their voices,  even the ensemble was a great treat.

While the piece did benefit from some additions; notably Wonder Woman’s monologue and the new musical vignettes that helped to thread that element into the plot, I still feel that the play is too long.  While I appreciate that there was enough added content to break up the show into two acts, there was still a lot of “fat” that could have been trimmed to make it easier to swallow.  Authors Rick Park and John Kuntz are extremely funny, giving the monologues humor and sophistication, so it is completely confusing to me how they could allow the first 20 minutes of the show, a dramatic recreation of the origin of Wonder Woman, to be the audience’s introduction into their delightful world.  It is long, sloppily written, and is replete with dated jokes (sorry guys, Sarah Palin is –so- 2008).  The “talking pedestals” are contrived and overdone- it just wasn’t funny after the first time. There is no natural flow to the scene, it was so awkward that the girls sounded like they were reading off of cue cards, waiting for the laughs that only reluctantly came.  It is such a bummer to start a show that way.  I think that whole scene could be reworked into a two or three minute introduction that ornaments, not impedes, the subsequent monologues.  I urge them to put some more thought into revisions- cutting it down to two hours would be a vast improvement.

Park and Kuntz have really strong potential for an amazing piece with The Superheroine Monologues. With any new work, there is always room for improvement, and despite its growing pains, I still found it to be entertaining.  There are still two more weekends of performances at the BCA, and I think it is worth seeing- hopefully this show will continue to grow and adapt, like a superheroine would, to reach the biggest possible audience! One additional note- thanks Park and Kuntz, for creating a female-centric show, no matter what the flaws, I celebrate a show that highlights women in all their glory.  The theatre world is woefully preferential to men, and it is really refreshing to get to see a group of talented women shine.

Storm’s powerful reverie