Month: October 2022

PFC William Santiago was murdered by Lance Corporal Harold Dawson, and PFC Louden Downey. L.T.’s Kaffee and Weinberg have been assigned to defend Dawson and Louden, who refuse to elaborate on the incident, or speak up on their behalf. Lt. Commander Joanne Galloway has been dispatched to observe the trial, and (by design or not) is something of an interloper. She’s the only female, asking questions that men on their own, would simply understand. As the story unwinds, we realize that Dawson and Louden probably didn’t intend to kill Santiago, but only enact punitive orders. Orders that came from on high. We also learn that refusing commands on a Marine Base would be an anomaly.

Is it safe to assume that some of the guys who signed up to be Marines, were doing so as part of maleculture? As far as we’ve come, since the time when boys were obliged to defend their manhood, decades of indoctrination still linger. The unspoken message that your most valuable asset was at risk. Always. The attraction of becoming a U.S. Marine was an infallible path to manhood. Nothing to figure out, just listen and obey. The result is soldiers who are automatons. Virility at the cost of humanity.

Aaron Sorkin’s (a playwright known for meticulous scripts ) A Few Good Men imagines an event that calls all this into question. Santiago is unable to fulfill the physical demands of his commitment. Though he’s made a good faith effort. He tries to respect the chain of command, only to find his legitimate pleas ignored. Therein lies the hypocrisy of the code. He’s punished for finally, desperately going over his superiors’ heads, when their judgment is colored by contempt. They throw him to the deep end, not caring if he drowns. A Few Good Men explores the Draconian, poisonous demands men impose on each other, for the sake of defending an abstraction. An archetype.

Janette Oswald has managed a cast of 17 (count them) 17 actors. How the hell did she do it? Sorkin’s dialogue requires cunning and sophisticated timing. Breakneck pace. And Oswald makes it happen. The officers who have some discretion when it comes to expressing identity and character, and the poor underlings, who must live to serve, and serve to live. Oswald does justice to Sorkin’s venture into the fierce realm of malehood, with all its implications. The cast members are sharp, smart and measured. Not afraid to take risks, or appear mean spirited. Their grim, oppressed demeanor is heartbreaking. Come and see this powerful production, that will pull you and not let go.

Richardson Theatre Centre presents A Few Good Men, playing October 14th-30th, 2022. 518 West Arapaho Road, Richardson, Texas 75080. 972-699-1130.richardsontheatrecentre.net

I don’t think I’ve been so surprised by a musical since Grey Gardens. Violet is the story of a young woman, making a pilgrimage to Tulsa, Oklahoma, to be healed by a televangelist. When Violet was a girl, a freak accident scarred part of her face. Since then, she’s persevered as best she could, with a dad smart enough to treat her like any other daughter. Other kids at school aren’t so considerate, but she does okay. Most of Violet is set on her long, arduous bus ride, with its strange, funny collection of characters, young and old. She spends time listening to an Old Lady, who has Violet’s interests in mind. She befriends a couple of soldiers, Flick and Monty, and they hang out together, playing cards and drinking beer. The guys are headed back to base, where there’s a strong possibility they’ll be sent to Vietnam.

Like Arlie in Marsha Norman’s Getting Out, Violet is accompanied by herself as a girl, a character free to express the intense feeling her adult self cannot. We find song and musical opportunities in unexpected times and places, and a fresh and moving script by Brian Crawley that surprises us again and again. The music by Jeanine Tesori includes, Gospel, Soul and Blues, with vibrant energy and a confident swing from ballad, to celebration to grief. Tesori and Crawley seem to take mischievous pleasure in challenging our preconceived notions of musical theatre. There are no glamorous roles or admirable characters. But neither are there the repugnant or depraved. It reminded me of Flannery O’Connor or Eudora Welty. That unspoken, funny, skeptical wisdom.

Considering the subject matter: faith, catastrophe, surviving without cynicism, I was wondering if Violet might suggest God is the answer. That the miraculous is just around the corner. And it doesn’t say “No” to these. Instead it ponders the possibility that Violet (like the rest of us) might be looking outside herself. That grace might be something more palpable, less ethereal, less abstract. I don’t want to give too much away, but Violet offers comfort in careful consideration of the actual, rather than the vague and lofty. It seeks salvation in glorifying the strength in our shared humanity.

The large cast, under the wise and thoughtful eye of director Ashley Puckett Gonzalez, moved and performed with confidence, focus, and dedication. Some actors played numerous roles and their versatility was a thing of beauty. There were so many, sharp, touching moments and painful episodes captured with precision and presence. Consider the logistics, so many ways Violet could have gone sideways, but didn’t. So much splendid work, so much warmth and compassion. It was entertaining and brilliant.

I wish to thank Firehouse Theatre, who permitted me to attend the last performance of the run. I have never attended a show at Firehouse, that wasn’t impeccable. Honest.

Firehouse Theatre Company, 2535 Valley View Ln, Farmers Branch, TX 75234. (972) 620-3747. thefirehousetheatre.com

The narrator introduces us (from his easy chair) to his vinyl recording of The Drowsy Chaperone, a musical comedy from the 20’s. His frank, relaxed commentary, the disc on a turntable, set the tone for adoration of the craft, perhaps far too rare, in a world of diminished enthusiasm. Throughout our submersion into The Drowsy Chaperone experience, he gives us background on the performers, context, and smart (if opinionated) critique. The guys playing the gangsters were brothers. The dizzy chorine was actually dizzy. Our nostalgic trip lands us in the “actual” midst of the show, with dialogue and songs. There’s a metronomic swing between the musical, and our present day conversation with the narrator. He makes a sandwich, answers the phone, visits the loo. Does embracing theatre seep into our humdrum, often disappointing lives?

The Drowsy Chaperone is a valentine, a tribute to a unique, rousing, genre of entertainment. But there’s something else. The obsession with musical comedy is often trivialized. Baffling to heterosexual males. A realm occupied by the eccentric and effete. The narrator is quite comfortable pointing out the preposterous, facetious qualities of musical narrative. It seems to be a modern trope lately, to praise something, while spoofing it. Drama might be depressing, opera oppressive and ponderous. But the light musical can evoke enchantment. There’s shtick, but there’s also pathos. A quizzical capacity to involve us. To salve misery with blissful emotion. That troubles can be managed, or jettisoned. That appreciating the ridiculous can heal the spirit.

Allen Contemporary Theatre’s production of The Drowsy Chaperone is not to be missed. Directors Eddy Herring and Robyn Meade have brought all the nuance and spark of Lisa Lambert and Greg Morrison’s (Music and Lyrics) Bob Martin and Don McKellar’s (Book) script to the stage. The splendid nonsense, the unflinching gags, the spits and double-takes and cringe-worthy puns. Like a collage by Rauschenberg or Schwitters or Picasso it coalesces into into something transcending its components. And the cast. What a bunch of effervescent, acrobatic, scene-chewing, crisp and hammy maniacs. What is it about ACT’s production that wakes you to the sweet and gorgeous in the world? That jazzes you down to cobwebs of your soul? Well, you won’t find out just sitting there. For the love of God. Go.

Allen Contemporary Theatre presents The Drowsy Chaperone, playing October 7th-23rd, 2022. 1210 E Main Street, #300, Allen, Texas. (844) 822-8849. allencontemporarytheatre.net