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

My love affair with Ronan Noone started way back when I was a starry-eyed college sophomore at my very first American College Theatre Festival.  Fresh from the high of competing in the festival with Stonehill College’s rendition of Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury, I was replete with enthusiasm for the art form- and ran head first into Noone’s debut of The Lepers of Baile Baiste. So moved, was I, that I became a life-long enthusiast of the piece, toting it as one of my favorite new plays.  It is still widely discussed among my circle as once the most inspiring theatrical moments of our young lives.  It was with that much expectation that I entered the Boston Playwright’s Theatre to see Noone’s newest: Little Black Dress.

I will admit that I came with almost impossible-to meet-standards about how wonderful this play was going to be.  How could the cast compare to the fantastic cast of Lepers that I had seen?  How could a story be as inspiring?  I am pleased, no, delighted to say that though I was not as emotionally ravaged as I was as a college sophomore, I really and truly enjoyed Little Black Dress.  I was not disappointed.

I must start out by saying that Noone shines in his character development.  The show opens with a soul-baring monologue by the leading player, Amy, (played with sophistication and nuance by Marianna Bassham) where she explains the state of her life after marrying her high school sweetheart almost two decades before.  “Fantasies,” she says, “if you hold them for much longer than 19 years, they become regrets.”  Those ominous words open the audience up to the last few weeks of a woman dying of boredom and desperation, and the circle of those closest to her as she brings her life to an unexpected climax.  Amy is joined, in her fantasy world, by her husband Jimmy (Jeremiah Kissel), a drunk who’s heart has hardened past the point of redemption, her son Jimmy Jr. (Alex Pollock) who spends his days smoking and playing video games, and her son’s best friend Charly (Karl Baker Olson) who has made a name for himself in town- with the ladies- by offering his services as a male prostitute.  Upon the urgings of Amy, who Charly also happens to be sleeping with, he pressures Jimmy Jr. to become involved in the sex trade by explaining the love and passion he has for women.  Besotted with love and the change in routine, Amy and Charly plot to move away together to Miami beach to spend their lives together living in hotels and enjoying carnal pleasures- but when Jimmy Sr. finds out his wife is finally leaving him, Amy’s fantasies come to a crushing halt, leaving the whole family changed forever.

Director Ari Edelson is at his best for this production and his passion for the material shows.  He led the cast into the depth of each well-written character.  Never could I have imagined that I would love and adore a male prostitute as much as I loved Olson’s portrayal of Charly.  He was enchanting in a heroic 1950’s way.  I wanted to embrace him.  It was completely plausible that every woman in town would be in love with his warmth and sweetness.  In contrast, but equally loveable was Pollock’s Jimmy Jr.  He embodied a young man that every one of us knows, the bumble-headed loser with a heart of gold.  He alone brought tears to my eyes at the show’s climax.  Kissel, as Jimmy Sr. gave a harsh, at times painful performance.  I wanted to find even one tiny kernel of him that I could empathize with, but couldn’t come away with a single word.  Noone didn’t give him much of a chance with his callous words and cruel motivations, but Kissel didn’t fight against that at all, leaving me to just blatantly disregard the character’s worth- which I think was the only thing that detracted from the story.

Jon Savage’s set was a spot-on rendition of the lower-class chic farmhouse, from the drab and dirty couch to the old fashioned stovetop.  Lighting by Nikki Pierce complimented the stage nicely, and the actors worked well with their lighting, something that can make-or break a performance.  Overall, it was an excellent use of the space.  Boston Playwright’s Theatre has done nothing but impress me every time I’ve had the pleasure of participating as an audience member in one of their productions.  A kind staff and inventive space really make the evening a nice one to share.  I’m looking forward to seeing The Salt Girl in November.

Amy and Jimmy Sr. share a tense moment after dinner.

Juventas New Music Ensemble, a resident of the Boston Conservatory, offered quite the “mind trip” with it’s fall selection, Murmurs From Limbo: A Musical Exploration Into the Human Mind. The ensemble features young artists in the Boston area and strives to produce and promote composers under the age of 35, but this is not an easy task.  Filling an audience for classical works can be hard enough, but add to that a bevy of unheard of composers and the risk of green performers, and you have the potential for a disaster- thank goodness Juventas pulled it off with class and style.

Murmurs From Limbo featured six pieces that could not be any more unique from one another- from  classic compositions, to dramatic percussive performance piece, Juventas pushed the envelope, and pushed the boundaries of the audience’s expectations.

Tim Stullman’s Deaf Ears Hear No Crying is a tribute to those who seek justice but go unheard.  From the first moment of odd scratching and the plucking of piano strings, it is clear that this is not your average composition, in fact, the piece defines the genre of “new classical music” in its ability to combine the a classic and beautiful orchestration with elements of jarring and otherworldly reality.

Bit of Nostolgia by Matt Boyd and performed by Brian Calhoon was a surprising foray into the inner working of a percussionist’s mind.  Seeing each object on the stage as a potential vessel for music, Calhoon moved about the stage playing everything from a paper bag to a handful of plastic chains.  In glorious contrast to Stullman’s piece, it worked as a perfect bridge to what I consider to be the most beautiful piece of the night.

Erich Stem’s Revisited filled the auditorium with the rich and beautiful sounds of the East.  Inspired by Japanese Shakuhachi music, the three movements of this piece are unique and beautiful.  The third movement, inspired by an 18^th century poem by Minezaki Koto, echoed the feeling of poetry with fluid lines and sophisticated nuances.

The second part of the evening started off with the fun, playful The Mind is a Monkey, Swinging From Branch to branch Through the Forest by Ethan Greene.  The mouthful of the title is an homage to the text of the Sutra, and the music does it justice- full of movement and a witty repartee between the instruments.

Part didgeridoo, part tuba beat-boxing is the best way to describe the piece that stole the show.  Fnugg by Norwegian composer Oystein Baadsvick was an all around crowd-pleaser as performed by tuba genius, John Eliot.  The audience could not help to gasp in audible delight as Eliot morphed the homely tuba into an unexpected boom-box of fun.  Whoops and hollers followed him off the stage until he had to take a second bow.

The evening of music closed with the title piece of the production, Murmurs from Limbo by Steven Rice.  Unfortunately this piece fell a little flat for me (no pun intended).  As the title engagement of the night, I was expecting to be blown away, especially with the caliber of music and fun we’d previously experienced, but unfortunately Murmors from Limbo was not my cup of tea.  A mish-mashed conglomeration of weird shouting and singing in middle English, odd and ugly dissonant music, and an irritating lack of balance between voices and instruments left me feeling pretty disappointed- the text translations provided did no assist in my understanding help because it was extremely difficult to hear the vocalists sing (or moan/shout/growl).  It almost felt like a parody of what someone might do if they were trying to make fun of “modern classical music”.  That being said, I did appreciate the fine performance of the orchestra, and what I could hear of singers Thea Lobo and Owen Mcintosh.

It was wonderful to see Juventas staples Michael Sakir and Julia Carey giving their skill to the production, and special congratulations to new associate conductor, Lidiya Yankovskaya for an excellent debut!

The Juventas New Musical Ensemble has a lot of exciting productions coming up throughout the year, and will continue with their spring Opera project.  I’m looking forward to seeing what’s in store.

Music Director, Michael Sakir in action

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

There is something so refreshing about a new work.  An audience member has the opportunity to experience a production without any preconceived notion or bias.  There is a certain honor that comes with being the first audience to put breath into a play- it is as if the audience has been charged with deciding what is funny, what is touching- what is terrible.  11:11 Theatre Company’s production of An Evening of Almost gave the audience the chance to do this- nine times over.  With plays that ranged from hysterical to haunting, the evening was full of first experiences for actors, playwrights, and audience members alike.
Entering the small studio on the upper level of the Calderwood Pavilion, a bare room was decorated with four pieces of masonite on the floor, and one wooden cube, all sorely in need of a fresh coat of paint.  Chairs lined all four walls, an intimate seating for no more than 50.  My companion and I took a front row seat on the side of the playing space, and the small house quickly filled up.  Upon the commencement of the curtain speech it was obvious that we were surrounded by some of the production’s key players- directors and playwrights, it added an enjoyable, palpable excitement to a relatively bare space.  As soon as the lights went down, however, the minimal stage was immediately transformed.  The set pieces were artfully and quickly arranged; each set transition was smooth, fast, and seemingly effortless.  In a scenario where actors are also crew, this is especially impressive.
As the title of this piece suggests, each of the nine plays was selected (out of four hundred submissions!) to explore the idea of “almost” in one way or another.  I was extremely interested in how something so abstract might be handled in nine separate plays.  Because working with the theme was a requirement of submission, I was ready to experience nine very clear and distinct choices.  I found though, that some of the plays did a better job of this than others.  “Morning Coffee” by Beth Kander is a brief encounter with a couple newly charged with dealing with a miscarriage (almost a baby), which was heartbreaking and frustrating, but disturbingly effective when the “almost” involved is an actual life.  “Struck” by J. Stephen Brantley, the only production of the night to feature more than two characters, frames the relationship of three people after one suffers a stroke and partial paralysis (almost fully functioning).  It does an amazing job of touching a range of emotion that centers on the theme- each of the characters experiencing “almost” in their own, private way.  Other pieces, “Enimatic Lucidity” by Len Cuthbert, “Happily Ever After” by Peter Cavell, and “The Day that Brando Died” by Lawrence Dukore, had subtle references to the “almost” theme though the choices either directorially or within the play itself made them less clear.  A handful of others did not do quite as well thematically. Despite being well written, Judd Silverman’s “Gallery Afternoon” doesn’t seem to have anything to do with “almost”, nor does the equally interesting, “Make It a Good One” by Elisabeth Burdick.  “Rrrr Argh Blech” (an annoyingly disinteresting title) by Valerie Work, and “Something Went Wrong” by Matt Casarino absolutely did not connect the theme of almost with the audience.  While I enjoyed Casarino’s amusing concept, I found his dialog to be weak, contrived, and ultimately forced- and without a purpose in this cycle of plays.  Work’s piece may have been visually beautiful (and very well directed by Carolyn Blais), but it didn’t “say” anything at all.
I didn’t expect to go into a night of nine separate plays and come out liking all nine of them, but I did expect to see some great performances, and 11:11 Theatre Company delivered with several standout actors.  Dmitriy Molchanov was absolutely fantastic in both “Enigmatic Lucidity” and “Morning Coffee”, and Renee Rossi Donlon, Brian Tuttle and Jonathan Rousseau were a fantastic ensemble, not to mention all equally strong individually (there is no question that “Struck” was my favorite piece, a cut above the rest).  It was a long shot that I would become emotionally invested in the characters of any ten minute play, but by the end of “Struck” my heart was absolutely won over.  It was a sophisticated and full of dramatic tension throughout.  The “fight” choreography was superb- I think I actually audibly gasped.  Jeffrey Phillips and Murray Wheeler also gave a great performance in “The Day Brando Died” and it was refreshing to see a pair of age-appropriate, experienced actors among a cast of many much younger ensemble members.  There were so many shows to think about, and so many elements to consider, I would never be able to touch on all the points that came up throughout the evening.  Each show was performance was thoughtfully crafted and solidly (if not excellently) acted, and the actors gave a wonderful foundation for the audience to be able to focus on the content of the plays themselves.
I absolutely enjoyed my evening (of almost) with the 11:11 Theatre Company. I love their mission of trying to produce funny, intimate, and wildly entertaining plays with reasonable ticket prices.  I am extremely interested to see what new works they will be presenting in their upcoming season, and am looking forward to adding them into my theatrical rotation.

Brian Tuttle and Renee Donlon in “Struck”