Month: January 2023

Once a year, Pegasus Theatre stages a new “black and white” show. It is a long standing tradition. Each new show, written by Kurt Kleinman, is an homage to the heyday (1940’s -50’s) of film noir detective dramas. The brusque banter, understated alpha camp, cynicism that stands as a beguiling genre in the American Cinema Canon. These performances feature actors wearing a special gray makeup, special costumes and sets, designed to evoke the days before technicolor came to the silver screen.

The year is 1955. There’s a Top Secret Air Force Base (aka Paradise Ranch) where the highest level of National Security has been compromised. Our intrepid trio (Captain Foster, Nigel Grouse, and Harry Hunsacker) is summoned to the base, ready to set things right. It’s not long before homicide runs amok, with no apparent suspects. The Three Detectives are on the case. They bicker and squabble and Hunsacker makes his usual gaffes, whether it’s pretzel logic or unwittingly insulting someone. Grouse is nearby, most of time, to salvage the moment. It’s as if he’s channeling Gracie Allen, his guileless observations somehow endearing.

In the course of investigation, certain quandaries arise. The scientists involved are evasive and arrogant. Interlopers are casually coming and going to this fortress of solitude. Sam Phillips, a dashing, forceful G-Man arrives with his peppy, if somewhat stern assistant, Johnson. Two murders have occurred but all are baffled. Colonel Jean Hudson has been pondering using parallel universes to confront a past paramour. So many of these characters have secrets, and it won’t be easy.

Needless to say, most detectives aren’t called upon to solve murders in the realms of speculative fiction. Playwright Kleinman has fused two genres that often used black and white cinematography to its optimal effect. They may not have had any choice, but the true masters of film could make us swoon. The absurd, tongue-in-cheek antics of The Three are amusing and reassuring. The unmistakable tropes from classics like Forbidden Planet and The Maltese Falcon, the musical prompts when a jarring discovery comes, the slap happy gunplay, the painful memories of relationships that tanked. They are all here in this sublime, nostalgic, goofy celebration of dark, fanciful, deadpan ordeals.

Pegasus Theatre presented The Dimension of Death! From December 29th-January 22^nd, 2023. Charles W. Eisemann Center, 2351 Performance Drive, Richardson, Texas 75082. 972-744-4650. www.eisemanncenter.com

After years of reviewing theatre (much to my delight!) I have concluded how difficult it must be to stage a Christmas production production that is fresh, intriguing, uncorny and actually kindles that elusive spark we all yearn for. Christmas evokes so much for us that it’s hard to meet everyone’s understandably high expectations. Speaking as a grown adult (?!) I ache for the Christmases of my youth. There are times when I think we adults need Christmas more than children. Relatively speaking.

Richardson Theatre Centre’s  Hometown Holiday Radio Show manages this Herculean feat and more. The premise of experiencing Christmas lore (A Christmas Carol, It’s A Wonderful Life) through the lens of the glorious radio shows of the 1950’s, seems to put just the right spin on familiar narratives. Radio shows seem to be all the rage lately, with their ingenuity and zip and sly humor and warmth. Hometown Holiday opens on a small radio station as the actors, singers, foleys, director, writer, director, Master of Ceremonies and Mary the cleaning lady, et al, arrive. A calamity has hit Mary hard, but she doesn’t show it. It’s Christmas Eve and everyone’s dressed in their holiday finery, from dapper suits to opulent dresses to goofy, vivid costumes. Even if it’s only a Santa cap, everyone wears something special. All are light, buoyant and jazzed for the show to start, performing for the studio audience and the one at home.

There are Christmas carols, certainly, and comic sketches, daffy bits, an episode of Fibber McGee and Molly, commercials, spot-on news breaks, interventions by the writer. There’s a spoof on Twelve Days of Christmas that’s silly and marvelous. It’s clear Mary has always wanted to be a part of the show, and her opportunity arises. It may be a mostly secular celebration but the spirit of the birth comes through. We see delight as the men and women step up to do their piece; get glimpses of their lives outside the station. The nuance of radiance in their faces. I don’t always get the point of show-within-a- show shows, but here it makes perfect sense. Molly and Collin and Mary and Jeanette are human beings sharing the earth (with the rest of us). Tonight they are not only actors, they are friends celebrating Christmas with us.

There is something mystical, when we consider why some shows come together, and others not quite. If it’s a Christmas show, the risk increases exponentially. You’ve really got to avoid the temptation to push our buttons. There are many so deeply invested in Christmas. I’m thinking it’s the balance of nostalgia and celebration and graciousness, tempered by the relaxed demeanor of the characters. Enthusiastic but modulated and therefore, perhaps more palpable as real. And we all have permission to play. Hometown Holiday Radio Show isn’t a pageant. It’s not an extravaganza or a spectacle. It’s folks involved in their everyday lives, engaged in the simple act of welcoming the special, promised visitor. Yes?

Richardson Theatre Centre staged Hometown Holiday Radio Show December 2-18th, 2022. 518 W Arapaho Rd, Ste 113, Richardson, TX, 75080. (972) 699-1130. richardsontheatre@gmail.com

My heartfelt gratitude to RTC for letting me attend the last night of the run.

 

Belle is a young woman living in a provincial French Village with her father (Maurice) an ingenious, eccentric inventor. Belle herself isn’t interested in typical expectations. She may be the only villager who uses the library, and no particular interest in finding a husband. It doesn’t take much to spook these simple folk, though she’s not especially ostracized. One guy in particular: Gaston (an insufferable, self-absorbed, alpha male) has chosen Belle to be his future bride. He puts the schmuck in bravado. Apparently, in a town of the blind, a one-eyed man is king.

Maurice has loaded up his coach for a convention of like-minded artisans. Assuring his daughter he’ll be fine, he sets off, cutting a shortcut through the woods. A hurly-burly ensues, toppling his wagon and scaring his horse. Keen to escape the wolves that encircle him, he comes knocking at a palace, far removed from the rest of the world. There he discovers an opulent dwelling, occupied by servants that have been transformed into objects. A teakettle. A wardrobe. A candlestick. A grandfather clock. They cautiously offer him food and shelter, but when the Beast discovers the interloper, he throws him in the dungeon. Can Belle rescue him?

By now I think most of us are familiar with the Disney brand, adapting their animated films to stage musicals. Aladdin, The Lion King, Frozen, to name but a few, have been transformed to profitable, theatrical ventures. Disney’s sense of spectacle translates smoothly, and (near as I can tell) no major narrative changes. Watching Firehouse’s production of Beauty and the Beast, I was intrigued by the process. Much to my surprise, Dylan Elza appeared to have Gaston’s facial expressions down to a fine art. Practically identical. The effect was impressive and somewhat alarming. Was the idea to replicate, complicate or stimulate? Perhaps all three? You’ve got to wrestle unique expectations of the fanbase and the demands of a piece that must stand on its own.

Firehouse’s production of Beauty and the Beast is formidable. Captivating, touching and sublime. Issues of gender subjugation, vilification of the other, isolation of the misunderstood, in some ways are more salient on the stage. The cast brings warmth that somehow seems more palpable, coming from living human beings. They are avid and dedicated to their craft. It can’t be easy transcending the cool polish of Disney cartoons. I felt a bit foolish (when Belle returns to the Beast) snuffling loudly, like so many others in the audience. But there you go.

I am grateful to Firehouse Theatre for allowing me to review closing weekend.

Beauty and the Beast played The Firehouse Theatre December 2nd-18th. 2535 Valley View Ln, Farmers Branch, TX, Farmer’s Branch 75234. (972) 620-3747. thefirehousetheatre.com