Month: April 2022

Dry Powder opens enigmatically. Jenny stands on the threshold of Rick’s office. As if she’s waiting for permission to cross. She informs Rick that she’s going to give a brief talk at a tony, Ivy League Law School. He interrogates her, demanding the details. No, don’t talk about that. No don’t discuss that. What are you thinking, of course not. Rick is like a bad father, diminishing her, gratuitously. We don’t get the relationship, other than Jenny is in some kind of fealty. Jenny broaches the subject of a recent, opulent wedding Rick threw, and the disastrous optics of such extravagance. Rick bemoans the fact that everyone says there were two elephants, when actually there was only one.

Such is the tongue-in-cheek, cutting humor that informs Dry Powder. It begins with the kind of levity you could only find in a hermetic, restricted context. It gradually sinks to the depths of despondency. Rick is a billionaire tycoon, CEO of a chain of grocery stores, that are in danger of foundering. Jenny and Seth are his top tier assistants. When a predicament arises (or any crucial decision must be made) they must each argue one side of the possible solution. Like a courtroom, it’s an adversarial strategy. The truth of the matter reached by dialectic. Sometimes it feels rational, other times like Jenny is the demon, and Seth the angel, perched on Rick’s shoulders. Seth is the altruist, and Jenny the cold, pragmatic shark. Rick gives them both the opportunity to pitch their reasoning, but he makes no meaningful effort to intervene when their interpersonal sniping gets vindictive and destructive.

Dry Powder evinces two viewpoints when it comes to ridiculously wealthy men like Rick. When desperation enters the equation, all semblance of honor is jettisoned. You could the hear the shouting all the way to Jersey. Seth believes you ignore the misery you inflict jeopardizes your soul, and Jenny believes charity has no place in the world victory by conquest. But the more closely we look, the more clearly we see the cruelty and despair gnawing at Rick, Jenny and Seth.

At the outset, Seth feels like our moral compass, but then we learn he’s not above deception. Even with friends. Jenny is despicable, yet she lacks even the basic skills to form relationships. Whatever her triumphs, her life is joyless. Rick is a bit tougher to gauge. We get he’s the captain of a sinking ship, but is Jenny there to propose options or give him permission to be a prick? Playwright Sarah Burgess inserts an elemental and imperative quandary. Mankind has a special gift for excusing every bad act. What’s the use of success if it turns you into a monster? When you deliberately make a decision that abuses your employees?

Dry Powder is sleek and snappy and scintillating. And yes, funny. It’s entertaining and intelligent. Second Thought Theatre has assembled a powerful, elegant, disturbing production, here. Theatre of the most provocative, imperative kind. Kudos to the impeccable, meticulous cast: Marcus Pinon (Seth) Samantha Potrykus (Jenny) Jackie Cabe (Rick) and Omar Padilla (Jeff).

Second Thought Theatre presents Dry Powder: playing April 13th-30th, 2022. Bryant Hall, next door to Frank Lloyd Wright’s Kalita Humphreys Theater, located at: 3400 Blackburn Street, Dallas, TX 75219. 214-897-3031. secondthoughttheatre.com

Maria is a postulant in a convent in Austria, where she poses something of a quandary. She embodies the spirit of kindness, celebration, wonder and joy i.e. the essential and best qualities of Christianity, or any believer in a ubiquitous, loving divinity. Her sisters and the Mother Abbess recognize this, yet worry her comportment leaves something to be desired. Though dedicated and earnest, perhaps the finer points of piety and reserve elude her. When Mother Abbess sends Maria to be the governess for the Von Trapp family, she is heartbroken. Mother assures her she has done nothing wrong, but this will give her the opportunity to evaluate her choices in a larger world.

When Maria arrives, she is greeted by the housekeeper, the butler, and seven children. Their father, Captain von Trapp, uses his naval experience to maintain an orderly household. All are summoned by an ear piercing whistle. The children are required to line up by age, they cannot play or sing, but they do march every afternoon. Aghast these kids don’t know what a song is, Maria teaches them the basics, then takes the deep dive, sharing goofy, delightful, heart nurturing folk songs. Maria is truly a whirlwind, asserting herself and not afraid to tell the Captain how beleaguered and desperate his children are for his approval and affection. All of this in the context of opulence, privilege and the encroaching threat of the Nazi regime.

Composed by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II, written by Howard Lindsay and Russell Crouse, The Sound of Music, is a captivating, swoony, playful, endearing (and sometimes solemn) account of Maria’s odyssey, as she reaches a turning point. I was familiar with the musical, but surprised how profoundly moved I was by this production. Everything felt spontaneous, fresh, intuitive, as if hearing these songs for the first time. It seems this story of Mari, a nun, struggling with her identity, yet presented in more or less secular terms, has the power to convey warmth and genuine elation. The tingles and helpless chuckles and unexpected tears come. I felt some nuanced epiphany, that I hadn’t grasped before.

The Sound of Music finds the miraculous in the everyday (white dresses with blue satin sashes, jam and bread, packages tied up with strings) but it’s also about character. The Captain isn’t a curmudgeon, he’s lost and grieving. Liesl isn’t a delinquent, she’s dealing with her first grown up feelings. Maria isn’t a rebel, she’s discovering her own, unique expression of grace and kindness, in the big, often hostile world.

Director Kevin Moriarty has orchestrated a cast that’s poised, authentic, involved and avid. None of the blocking, or lines, or gestures, feel forced or cringeworthy. Tiffany Solano, as Maria, is never spunky or vapid or (ugh!) sassy. Rather her energy, her belief in the rightness of caring, her effusive, sublime demeanor come from a place of humanity.

This staging is aimed at adults, but utterly there for children,too. In the midst of the show, I looked over and saw a lad, no bigger than a minute, sitting in his dad’s lap, tucked up. He was small, yet his eyes were so big. I think Mr. Moriarty, like the father, has given us this space, gentle and safe, where can witness the palpable yes of what being alive means. And of course, we are that boy, quietly in awe.

The Dallas Theatre Center presents The Sound of Music, playing March -26^th -April 24^th, 2022. Dee and Charles Wyly Theatre, 2400 Flora Street, Dallas, Texas 75201. 214-522-8499.

www.dallastheatercenter.org

 

Evangelist and chanteuse, Reno Sweeney is sweet on Billy Crocker (and while he’s fond of her) he’s got goo-goo eyes for Hope Harcourt. Memories of a midnight rendezvous have him revving on all cylinders. However! Hope is engaged to Lord Evelyn Oakleigh, an extremely charming guy. Hope’s Mother, Evangeline Oakley, is relieved Hope is marrying up. Moonface Martin (Public Enemy Number 13) is a fugitive from justice, accompanied by his kewpie-doll girlfriend, Erma. Billy’s stowed away on an ocean liner (bound for London) with this assortment of lovable kooks.

Anything Goes premiered on Broadway in 1934, with music and lyrics by the preeminent pop composer Cole Porter, and book by Guy Bolton and P.G. Wodehouse. The musical has gone through a few revisions over time, handing off the torch to Howard Lindsay and Russell Crouse. With splendidly ridiculous scenarios and eccentric behavior, you just know that nothing truly bad is going to happen, and several couples will be getting hitched in the end. Porter, Bolton and Wodehouse have fashioned a bang-up plot for this smart, preposterous, thoroughly boisterous comedy.

Bearing in mind the salient cultural quirks of the day, we find Reno, the earthy, savvy lady with a wry smile, and gumption for days. Perhaps a nod to Mae West? From the same time (roughly) as Chicago, there’s much public enthusiasm for gangsters, hoodlums, and sketchy dames. Aboard the S.S. American, daring criminals are celebrities. There are the stock market crash and rough and ready sailors. You’re the Top is a litany of timely topics: Mahatma Gandhi, Mickey Mouse, Mona Lisa, Tower of Pisa, The Louvre Museum…

Then of course, there are the tunes and dance numbers. Porter has this astonishing knack for blending cleverness with cool panache. His romantic songs are suffused with gentle, vivid imagery; wistfulness with longing. The smooth, nuanced tap numbers or extravagant (yet deferential) and the ballroom pieces, seem to spontaneously spark a lightness, a gladness to our step. Anything Goes certainly turns on the antics of flawed human beings, but there’s nothing cynical or deprecating. There’s a definite warmth, a tireless cheer that comes through the nonstop shenanigans and cross purposes. When Reno sees how smitten Billy is with Hope, she doesn’t storm off, she helps him. When Lord Evelyn realizes Hope (who loves him) feels something stronger for Billy, he doesn’t stand in the way.

Doug Miller should win Intrepid Director of the Year for this mind-boggling production of Anything Goes. 20 (count them!) 20 actors coming and going and changing costumes, hitting their spots and remembering their cues and (near as I can tell) never a miss. What a fearless, poised, acrobatic bunch of madcap rib-ticklers. I don’t think it’s a reach to say (in our current situation) it’s not easy to tell despondency to amscray and chase them naughty blues way. Firehouse Theatre is offering a tonic, a giddy, playful path to the salvation of intoxicating romance and shameless lunacy.

Don’t let this one pass you by.

The Firehouse Theatre presents Anything Goes, playing April 9th-17th, 2022. 2535 Valley View Lane, Farmer’s Branch, TX 75234. 972-620-3747. www.thefirehousetheatre.com

Garry Essendine is a preeminent actor in the professional theatre. A leading man and star, Garry is famous throughout England. No longer a young man, he nonetheless hasn’t reached his fill of the dissolute life. Seducing sweet ingenues, benders, weasliness and affairs with wives of friends. He is long-suffering, put upon, persecuted, ill-used and exploited. At least according to him. His staff are on strict instructions to never wake him, so when his latest, starry-eyed conquest begs to say goodbye, they must run interference. Apparently the spare bedroom keeps Garry’s guests from getting underfoot.

At first Garry seems vain, superficial, callous and pompous. But once we get past his salient qualities, there might be more below the surface. He must deal with an ongoing parade of strangers wanting favors. When he crosses paths with a rather manic, though not disagreeable playwright, his practical experience goes a long way towards guidance. The key women in his life are not hesitant to put him on the spot, or deliver a well-deserved blow, when he’s got it coming. Yes, they indulge him, but only to a point. It says a lot (if subtly) that he doesn’t retaliate when they catch him out. Perhaps he’s reached a personal reckoning in his life, but he actually seems to be learning from past transgressions. When we might just as easily expect him to be defensive or stubborn.

Playwright Noel Coward has a gift for weaving substance into crisp, disaffected banter. It would be easy to skate on humor alone, or his fine knack for narrative. But he understands context makes the difference between be good and great humor. Absurdism and non sequitur has its moments, but jokes that emerge from a premise, has such punch that laughter is all but inevitable. We might arrive at the theater primed to laugh. We might not. Is it funnier if we know the reason why the man who came to dinner faked his broken leg, or assume it was on a whim? If Didi and Gogo wait interminably for a mysterious visitor, won’t clues to their predicament stick the day after the show?

Director Janette Oswald kept many dishes in the air, to manage Present Laughter. Numerous characters to cue, quips to time, shticks to consider, twists to navigate. This is not Oswald’s first rodeo, and her confidence and intuition make that clear. Despite surprises, eventualities, blindsides and abrupt turns, she coordinates this nimble, poised gathering of actors with less fear than a toreador wearing red.

Richardson Theatre Centre presents: Present Laughter, playing March 25th-April 10^th, 2022. 518 West Arapaho, Suite 113, Richardson, Texas 75080. 972-699-1130. richardsontheatrecentre.net