Month: December 2019

Adapted by Philip Grecian from Jean Shepherds’s memoir: In God We Trust: All Others Pay Cash,  A Christmas Story depicts the life of Ralphie, during one particular, pivotal Christmas. Ralphie lives in Hohman, Indiana, with younger brother Randy, his mom, and his dad, i. e. “The Old Man.” The narrative is provided by an actor designated as “Adult Ralphie” who describes a time before television, when he listened to Little Orphan Annie on the radio, eagerly used his secret decoder ring, and dealt with bully Scut Farkas. Randy never wants to eat anything, mother cooks meat loaf and cabbage every night (except holidays) and The Old Man is always cursing a blue streak when he must fight off the neighbor dogs or fix the antiquated heating system.

A Christmas Story is composed of of anecdotal mishaps that plague poor Ralphie (and others) during the Christmas season. He and his buddies Schwartz and Flick are just trying to make their way to school and back without Scut and his sidekick (Little Toadie) making their lives miserable. The litany of life’s unfairnesses includes: a remarkably crass “leg lamp” that (ironically) dad couldn’t have won without mom’s help, an unrevealed department store Santa that makes every single kid cry, and the time Ralphie blows his first opportunity to help dad by dropping the “F-Bomb.” [Pretty harsh, if you ask me, considering dad’s obscene outbursts.] Naturally, these incidents have their humorous side.

Perhaps A Christmas Story’s wild popularity can be attributed to its solid grounding in reality. Yes, Ralphie indulges in phantasmagorical adventures, but the world outside his private universe is all too ready to intervene. Like A Charlie Brown Christmas and The House Without A Christmas Tree, we don’t feel the content has been sanitized for our protection. There’s irony and flights of fancy but Grecian never confuses warmth with kitsch. We see the flaws in characters, but their good side too. Mama understands when Ralphie finally has a meltdown and wallops Scut. Dad saves Ralphie from wearing a bunny costume sent by his aunt. The humorous incidents feel authentic, but they’re never cruel.

I would be remiss if I neglected to give special recognition to the kids in the cast of A Christmas Story : Thomas Breda (Flick) Bella Chinn (Scut Farkas) Tanner Chinn (Schwartz) Mahder Debela (Helen) Olivia Fowler (Little Toadie) Kendall Kepner (Esther Jane) Caleb Lucas (Randy) and Mark Vasquez (Ralphie). These burgeoning actors were credible, professional, dedicated to their craft, and absolutely hilarious.

Richardson Theatre Centre presents: A Christmas Story, playing December 6th-22nd, 2019. 518 West Arapaho Road, Suite 113, Richardson, Texas 75080. (972) 699-1130. www.richardsontheatrecentre.net

Not many know, not long after Scrooge had his sublime epiphany, he backpedaled. He actually brought suit against Jacob Marley, The Ghost of Christmas Past, The Ghost of Christmas Present, and The Ghost of Christmases Yet to Come (among others) for reckless endangerment, emotional distress, attempted murder, et cetera….In The Trial of Ebeneezer Scrooge, these charitable souls are tried for the previously mentioned crimes. They’re defended by Rothschild, a smarmy, excessively solicitous counselor, who tries the patience of presiding Judge Pearson. Like any bench trial, witnesses (both living and deceased) are cross-examined, testimony is given, objections are raised and sustained or quashed. We hear the testimony of Scrooge’s nephew, his sister, the woman who stole his bedclothes and Bob Cratchit.

Of course, we’re going to wonder why Scrooge has this radical relapse. Why has playwright Mark Brown created this quandary? We all know that whatever apparitions visited Ebeneezer on that fateful Christmas Eve, they were motivated by good intentions. Perhaps a couple didn’t mind taking him to task. The appearance of supernatural entities in the courtroom, doesn’t impair their powers. (Some of the special effects are truly spectacular.) I’m thinking Brown probably means the title figuratively. While it’s supposedly others on trial, we seem to be examining Scrooge’s behavior through the lens of their experience with him. Just like in Charles Dickens’ novel. For all the complications and narrative turns, it feels like some questions have already been asked and answered. What’s the catch?

The Trial of Ebeneezer Scrooge is a kind of cockeyed satire. We spend a lot of time being misled, which isn’t necessarily wrong. What we might construe as digressions or asides are establishing tone, once the other shoe drops. It’s not always easy to tell where the show is coming from. All this being said, it’s a goodhearted, mischievous piece, with dedicated, conscientious performances. Any time you can find a fresh take on the traditional Christmas stories, it’s a gift.

The Core Theatre presents: The Trial of Ebeneezer Scrooge, playing December 7th-29th, 2019. 518 West Arapaho Road, Suite 115, Richardson, Texas 75080. 214-930-5338. www.thecoretheatre.org

Mila and Angelo are roommates in a homeless shelter for LGBT teenagers. Kids who self-identify as queer are often kicked out of their own homes. Mila presents as an angry, alpha male, while Angelo is an effusive gay male, sweet-natured and congenial. Angelo’s no longer welcome in his home and Mila can’t shake the memory of his unborn cousin. Angelo tries to be friendly, but Mila keeps admonishing him to “Stop acting like a bitch.” There’s a touching dreaminess to Angelo’s behavior. We know he can be careful, when he needs to be, but he’s clearly relieved to be in a place where he needn’t pretend. Though Mila is brusque and disparaging towards Angelo, it seems his aggression is motivated by fear. Like other women who identify as and live as men, he can’t risk discovery by most guys who live on the streets. It takes some time, but gradually Angelo captivates him with his fanciful notions, like describing our lives and connection to the stars. Angelo’s Abuela says, “You don’t need wings to be an angel.”

Playwright Emilio Rodriquez has depicted the intense, fierce, dangerous world that LGBTQ folks must endure. While we have come a long way as a culture, not all of us are fortunate enough to live among the enlightened. You never know when you might cross paths with someone who thinks it’s their job to maul and degrade you. Mila and Angelo have been taken from their nests to a life where they must constantly consider every word, every gesture, every article of clothing. Rodriquez, carefully, exquisitely, has found an intersection between the ferocious Mila, and the tender Angelo. Almost like Stanley Kowalski and Blanche DuBois (if you will). Except these two find a way to genuinely care for one another.

While sharing a room, Angelo is worried for Mila’s welfare. When he disappears for hours after curfew, Angelo frets and paces. When its obvious that the cops are chasing Mila, Angelo helps him hide. Even though Mila is often obnoxious, Angelo sees through this. Regardless of how each of us identifies, underneath it all, gender is a puzzle. A conundrum. Sadly many cisgender (straight-identified) won’t admit that none of us has really figured it out. They can’t or won’t be brave enough to own what Mila and Angelo embrace, for the sake of self-actualizing. Rodriquez has pulled us into this realm, where the ultimately nebulous question of how we celebrate and express our genitalia is explored. This production brims with mystery and warmth and the wonder that comes from navigating by the stars. Kudos also to director Jorge B. Merced, J Davis-Jones (Mila) and Dominic Pecikonis (Angelo) for their remarkable, poignant work.

Cara Mía Theatre presents Swimming While Drowning : playing November 30th-December 15^th, 2019. 3630 Harry Hines Blvd. Dallas, Texas 75219. 214-516-0706. caramiatheatre.org

 

 

Queen of Basel opens in the kitchen of a very posh hotel, where an upscale party is thriving in the adjoining ballroom. Christine (a waitress) has brought Julie here, after drinks get spilled. Julie is heiress to the Basel fortune. The man who owns the hotel (Arthur Basel) is her dad. Christine and Julie are worried that paparazzi will photograph her at an awkward moment. Julie wears a rich, dark blue gown. Christine wears her an outlandish uniform: hot pink wig, halter top, hot pants. She calls her fiance, John, an Uber driver, to rescue Julie from prying media. Julie assures them that she is fine. That none of this is necessary.

What follows is the story of three people of color, struggling to prosper, after centuries of racism and gender bias. Though playwright Hilary Bettis never says that kind of thing outright. The lives of John, Christine and Julie demonstrate their plight. Julie is forthright, practical, not really bossy, but not as deferential and solicitous as Christine. John is defensive, scrappy, but intelligent. All three have survived dangerous circumstances, overcoming countless obstacles, to achieve success proportionate to their considerable skills and talents. They are sentient, strong, smart. Not unrealistic, not unwilling to do the hard work. It’s so obvious the world is unwilling to recognize their value, it’s never said aloud.

Bettis creates an urgent, ironic dynamic between the characters. It’s not only fate, that follows them like a curse. It’s toxic humanity. Desperation tempts them to exploit each other. Under different circumstances, Christine and Julie’s roles might have been reversed. Julie may dress elegantly, but her dad takes her no more seriously than Christine; one of his waitresses in degrading clothes. Julie may be barefoot princess, but broken glass is waiting where she can’t see. For all her striving and advantages of wealth, she winds up hiding in a kitchen. Like every other woman, she’s only the “Queen of Basil.”

Kitchen Dog Theater presents: Queen of Basel, playing November 21st-December 15^th, 2019. 2600 N. Stemmons Fwy, Suite 180, Dallas, Texas 75207. (214) 953-1055 Kitchendogtheater.org