Month: April 2023

A phantasmagoria and a fable. A giddy, resigned reflection on sad truth. A ridiculous, exquisite ode to the delusional and the actual. Written By Federico Garcia Lorca, The Butterfly’s Evil Spell is set in the world of insects. They’re just like us, except they’re bugs. You may not know any scorpions but you’ve probably known some guy just like him. Roach Boy is a teenager who wears a baseball cap, a suede vest and shades. Silvia has a crush on him, but he’s not interested. He may have fallen for the Butterfly. Notice, we don’t know if she’s evil, herself.

There’s a deeply pleasurable sense of the absurd, and of course, poetry, in Lorca’s script. It suggests Alice in Wonderland, or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: a solemn mask on the preposterous. The commonplace becomes fanciful (a gigantic cactus, a Taco Bueno soda cup tower, a sickbed made from a Whataburger compote). Animation and enchantment suffuses the players, the objects, the heavens. The strange and enigmatic not only accessible but tangible as a shoe, or thimble or belt buckle. Lorca’s microscope to this cosmos in small, transforms the familiar into a marvel. Just as poets (and other artists) focus on what we take for granted, they confer the gift of spectacle. Everything now has luster.

We all know Roach Boy’s quandary. We chuckle at his infatuation, but respect his struggle. Because we know that disillusionment and hurt. Lorca captures this as we see how Silvia cares for Roach Boy, but she’s not dazzling or dangerous enough. The appearance of the Butterfly is treated as a dreadful portent. We want Roach Boy to avoid this outcome, but not sure that he can. Butterfly’s Evil Spell magnifies (even lyricizes) the arrows of desire that make ruin unavoidable. When we’re young our elders are clueless. But once we’ve been wounded, skepticism is nearly intuitive. We see the lives of these creatures, nearly invisible without Lorca’s lens; the sorcery and smoke and the invocative singing and it all fits. The intersection of ecstasy with fatality. The world is what the world is, even when a goddess appears, in a diaphanous white gown.

The cast and crew et al of Butterfly’s Evil Spell amount to a team of what? Goblins, sprites, lunatics, craftsmen? Perhaps all of these. Bravado and the luxury of sharing rapture, awe, pathos. Facetiousness wrapped in chaotic bliss. It meanders, only the better to sneak up on you, my dear. This ensemble is splendid. Poised to amaze. Ready to deliver that wayward kiss.

Theatre Three has again embraced the visionary, intrepid, innovative. I remember their productions of The Adding Machine and The Minotaur. Both were unorthodox, with notes of the fantastic. They were daring choices, that paid off. (Though bravery doesn’t need validation.) Butterfly’s Evil Spell is another example of what can happen, when an established theater takes chances. What a rush to engage with a piece that surprises, amuses, entices and intrigues. That invites us on a vivid, wild, intoxicating ride.

Theatre Three presents The Butterfly’s Evil Spell, playing through Sunday, April 30^th, 2023. 2688 Laclede Street, Suite 120, Dallas, TX, United States, Texas. 214-871-3300 X1 boxoffice@theatre3dallas.com. theatre3dallas.com

 

 

 

 

Hello, Dolly (in its long history) introduced the widow, Dolly Levi, to audiences in Thorton Wilder’s The Matchmaker. It’s first Broadway production featured the indomitable Ruth Gordon. Then Jerry Herman (Music and Lyrics) and Michael Stewart (Book) came along and adapted it to the musical stage. The script is virtually the same, with (of course) songs attached. Audiences have been bowled over by Dolly’s conviviality, shenanigans, cunning, and sheer chutzpah ever since: the woman who brokers romantic relationships. Among other skills.

As so many who have lost a loved one, Dolly has an ongoing conversation with her departed husband. When he was still on this side of the veil, they were all about the good times: nightclubs, sumptuous food, socializing, dancing. Now she must hustle to make ends meet, eager to help prospective customers, whatever their needs may be. Currently she’s assisting Horace Vandergelder in his search for a bride. Consistent with prevailing values of the age,

his ache for a wife amounts to free housekeeping (and presumably) lovemaking. Hence the musical number: “It takes a woman” sung by him and the rest of the male cast. Ironically, even a couple of actresses dressed as men.

As the play opens, Vandergelder is preparing for the journey from Yonkers to New York City. He’s leaving his two clerks: Barnaby and Cornelius, in charge. In a bold move, Cornelius declares he and Barnaby will lock up, sneak off, and taste the delectable fruit of hi-jinks and painting the town. Their mission? Kiss a girl and keep a date with the spectacular whale at the museum. Thanks to Vandergelder’s paltry wages, they don’t have a lot of spending money, but they’ll figure it out. Meanwhile, at a millinery in the Big Bad City, Irene and Minnie are yearning for adventures of their own.

Perhaps the perennial appeal of Hello, Dolly is Dolly herself, and the warm, compassionate music. It’s pretty clear Dolly is sometimes flying by the seat of her pants, but it doesn’t matter. She realizes that gumption and trusting her intuitions, will carry the day. She doesn’t overthink. Her charisma is undeniable. Her understanding of humanity’s strengths and flaws, blindspots and appetites, make her a natural. She perceives a need and provides the solution. It’s not till later in the show we get, that while she is making the best of things, the time for grieving is over. With her late husband’s permission, she will go forward.

Jerry Herman’s delightful songs capture the moment. Secular use for those fine Sunday clothes. An ode to love at first sight. A wistful reflection on what it means to court and spark. Dayna Dutton’s distinctive costuming, with its bright colors, spiffy three-piece suits and bustles gives us a feel for the times, and lifts our spirits. Victoria Anne Lee’s robust choreography is charming and poised. There is a sense of celebration in Lee’s versatile, often acrobatic dance numbers, romping or waltzing or kicking with glee.

Firehouse Theatre presents Hello Dolly, playing April 6th-23rd, 2023. 2535 Valley View Ln, Farmers Branch, TX, United States, Texas. (972) 620-3747. thefirehousetheatre.com

 

In 1976 child psychologist Bruno Bettelheim released The Uses of Enchantment, interpreting the symbolism behind fairy tales. In the context of Freudian theory. In 1987, Stephen Sondheim (music and lyrics) and James Lapine (Book) premiered Into the Woods, a musical they acknowledged was heavily influenced by Bettelheims’s book. Into the Woods is a masterful weaving of several stories: Rapunzel, Little Red Riding Hood, Cinderella, Jack and the Beanstalk, in which different characters, from separate narratives, interact with each other. The Narrator, the Witch, and the childless Baker and His Wife are the connective tissue. Sondheim and Lapine create a piece illuminated by explication, mockery, pathos, invention, and the improbable. All this while still entertaining and poignant. It’s nuanced and elaborate, but it doesn’t seem so.

In the first act, each fable, each quandary, is resolved. (A spell is broken. A danger avoided. A fortune attained.) In the second act, they are dismantled to suggest that life is more complicated. Deeper wisdom is pitted against conventional, simplistic answers. Maybe the Giant’s Wife has legitimate grievance. Perhaps the Prince and Cinderella didn’t consider their genuine motives. Perhaps the takeaway in the world of adults isn’t obvious. Sometimes it’s heartbreaking. Lapine and Sondheim have posited a contradiction in the title. “Out of the woods” means you’re no longer at risk. These two demented souls suggest you can’t learn to survive in the actual world, without putting yourself in jeopardy. Headlong into danger. But maybe they’re not wrong.

Pity poor Joel Ferrell, who in the process of directing this logistical nightmare, must have felt like he was juggling dishes, hoops and oranges at the same time. If the experience of Into the Woods is overwhelming in the best sense, imagine what it was like for him. The ridiculously demanding script couldn’t be easy to navigate for this tireless, fearless, animated ensemble cast. They bring the pleasure and grace of performance to Into the Woods without breaking a sweat.

Standouts include Christina Austin Lopez, as the persistent if somewhat unbalanced Cinderella, Bob Hess, avuncular and insanely versatile as The Narrator, Tiffany Solano, bold and vulnerable as The Baker’s Wife, Alex Organ, cunning and stately as Wolf and Prince, Sally Nystuen Vahle, patient and long-suffering as Jack’s Mother, Zachary J. Willis, endlessly cheery and guileless as Jack, Blake Hackler, as the perseverant and protective Baker, Cherish Love Robinson, wounded and vindictive as The Witch, and Christopher Llewyn Ramirez, pompous, but sensitive as Rapunzel’s Rescuer.

This remarkable musical mixes so many disparate, contrasting elements (the chaotic and the sublime, the absurd and the woeful, the cunning and the brave, the ironic and naive) and this phenomenal cast lights the fuse. The Dallas Theater Center’s production of Into the Woods is a vibrant, provocative, deeply affecting theatrical experience.

The Dallas Theater Center presents: Into the Woods, playing April 7th-30th, 2023. The Dee and Charles Wyly Theatre. 2400 Flora Street, Dallas, TX 75201. 214-522-8499. DallasTheateCenter.Org.

 

Boolie Wertham must find a driver for his mother, Daisy. She has wrecked her car, and continues to do damage to other people’s property. She blames the car, unable to admit she’s incapable of driving herself. Furthermore (wealthy though she may be) she is loath to hire a driver and be accused of putting on airs. Her reasons for needing a driver are perfectly legit, and we can’t imagine her caring what anybody thinks.

Boolie makes inquiries among his African American employees, and calls Hoke Colburn in for an interview. Hoke tells him about a white woman he worked for, who tried to get rid of some lousy clothes, by selling them to him. He politely turned her down. Hoke has learned how to be honest but still discreet. The interview tells as much about Boolie as it does Hoke. Boolie doesn’t expect Hoke to be subservient, and Hoke only asks for respect and a fair wage.

Written by playwright Alfred Uhry, Driving Miss Daisy is as much about race relations, as it is about dealing with cantankerous old ladies. It falls closer on the spectrum to To Kill A Mockingbird, than Uncle Tom’s Cabin. None of the characters would be described as noble, yet they care enough to be tactful. They don’t apologize for who they are, or pretend that differences don’t exist.  No one has any delusions that Miss Daisy is merely cranky or difficult.

Hoke isn’t reluctant to point out that sometimes Daisy makes impossible demands. When Miss Daisy teaches Hoke to read, he thanks her. When she replies (with her usually unpleasant demeanor) Don't be ridiculous! She explains he has the ability, but just doesn’t know it.  She is crusty, but refuses to condescend. This is the strength of Uhry’s narrative. Driving Miss Daisy is brave enough to raise the uncomfortable issues. It won't blow sunshine up our ass.

I must give props to Karen Jordan (Daisy Wertham) Toney Smith (Hoke Colburn) and Brian Hoffman (Boolie Wertham). Under the guiding, experienced hand of Director Rachael Lindley, they gift us with truly remarkable performances. Jordan is convincing, amusing, and exasperating as Daisy. Toney Smith is inspired and marvelously comic as Hoke. Brian Hoffman brings his impressive skills, as the relaxed, ironic, forbearing son, Boolie. I cannot recommend Richardson Theatre Centre’s production of Driving Miss Daisy enough. It is nuanced, understated, meticulous. They have hit a home run.

Richardson Theatre Centre presents: Driving Miss Daisy, playing March 31st-April 16th, 2023. 518 W Arapaho Road, Suite 113, Richardson, TX, United States, Texas. (972) 699-1130. richardsontheatre@gmail.com

 

 

April and Mimi are close, dear friends, who cherish one another. They brim with that effusive, frantic “girl energy” that’s so infectious. They proactively connect with members of the audience, asking so sweetly you just can’t say: “No”. They cheer, stand up, and look out for each other, no matter what. They adore each other’s company, and never run out of topics to discuss. Mimi babysits a little girl who wears Mousketeer ears, and she works in a coffee bar. There’s no doubt their friendship is authentic, though the enthusiasm comes dangerously close to the fatuous.

At the same time she’s started dating, Mimi discovers Edward Snowden, the notorious (if idealistic) whistleblower who facilitated access to the U.S. Government’s most sensitive secrets. Mimi immediately develops an atomic crush on Mr. Snowden, an antihero who sacrificed his home in America, and safety, and reputation to do what he felt was right. In short, he became a pariah. Mimi is then also faced with a moral quandary. She catches the badboy barista (that she likes) pilfering from the till. She loves the couple who own the cafe like family, as they love her. Should she report the guy, or pretend she didn’t see him?

When Mimi leaves the stage, April takes the audience into her confidence. Mimi has a serious pathology, that she’s managed to keep secret. Now, Edward Snowden takes a serious shift in tone. No more lemonade and lollipops. Throughout all of this, April supports, protects and does everything she can to spare Mimi any pain. She pays the restaurant bill behind Mimi’s back, to spare her embarrassment. April’s ignored it as best she can, but now, the question arises. If you genuinely care for someone, do you (however delicately) confront them with the truth? Even if you try to face this ordeal together, will you lose them?

Playwright Kate Cortesi presents us with a series of contradictions, that may be provocative. May be illuminating. Some playwrights create a puzzle with just enough information to set the spokes in motion. April and Mimi (like Gilbert and Sullivan’s “little maids from school”) are so giddy and gleeful it’s not always easy to take them seriously. As mentioned above our sunshine ride turns into a grim trip through a thunderstorm. Edward Snowden, a somewhat romanticized rebel, becomes a metaphor for the downside of mythology. Being an iconoclast is one thing, living the consequences is another. Perhaps, sooner or later, every devoted friendship is tested? Perhaps we must risk security, for the sake of doing right by someone who deserves our respect.

Second Thought Theatre presents Is Edward Snowden Single? playing April 4^th (today) through April 8^th. 3400 Blackburn St, Dallas, TX, United States, Texas 75219. (214) 897-3091. secondthoughttheatre.com