Month: July 2023

One of Greek folklore’s most beguiling and absorbing narratives, The Odyssey details the return of Odysseus and his crew to Ithaca, after victory with the Trojan War. A true auteur: Logan Beutel has forged Odysseus and Penelope, an adaptation of The Odyssey, directed and starred in it. Other cast members also wear numerous hats, playing various roles, singing and playing instruments with the band, assisting with numerous fancies and evocations.

By all accounts Odysseus is more cunning, more persuasive, more cerebral than other Greek heroes, skills that will come in handy on his journey back from a ten-year war. In his absence, his wife must ward off a group of voracious suitors, while she weaves a tapestry and reassures their son, Telemachus, that his father is still alive. Her mother-in-law, Antikla, nags, kvetches, disparages, moans and groans and makes her daughter-in-law’s predicament worse. Odysseus and Penelope cuts back and forth between Penelope and her husband’s stupefying journey. Beutel has taken on the epic story of Odysseus the King of Ithaca, and Penelope his queen.

Beutel has boiled it down to the bare bones (more or less) without losing the essence or upshot. Key moments are preserved: notorious episodes, grisly outcomes. Odysseus and Penelope captures the shock, the fear, the misery, the despair. One of the great strengths of Greek drama is its visceral, implacable ability to get under our skin. Beutel’s minimalistic approach is something of a risk, but somehow, it works. We get a feel for the arduous voyage, the dark humor of their struggle with the Cyclops, Penelope’s constant battle with violent alphadogs, the danger relentlessly stalking husband, wife and son.

On the other hand, one of the obstacles when staging Greek plays, is their tendency to get bogged down in rhetoric. You don’t want to spend a long in exposition, but you also want to do justice to content. It’s quite impressive how Beutel, and an energetic, inspired host of actors and artisans have converged to create this deeply affecting spectacle. This fluid and daring and truly poised performance. Megan Muscato and Reagan Wren’s choreography, Giulia Garbani and Fara Goldsmith’s shadow imagery, Beutel’s musical arrangements. The actors seamlessly move from dialogue to subtle, elegant dance episodes. The shadow images, emerging behind screens, add enigma, strangeness, something unsettling. Beutel’s eclectic series of songs: mournful, aching, wistful, blend (to my surprise) especially well with the saga unfolding before us.

Odysseus and Penelope played July 21-23rd, 2023. “Multimedia” scarcely seems to describe this sophisticated, ingenious montage of mythology, tragedy, and dazzling, theatrical energy.

I was privileged to be there.

 

One of Greek folklore’s most beguiling and absorbing narratives, The Odyssey details the return of Odysseus and his crew to Ithaca, after victory with the Trojan War. A true auteur and Outcry Theatre stalwart: Logan Beutel has forged Odysseus and Penelope, an adaptation of The Odyssey, directed and starred in it. Other cast members also wear numerous hats, playing various roles, singing and playing instruments with the band, assisting with numerous fancies and evocations.

By all accounts Odysseus is more cunning, more persuasive, more cerebral than other Greek heroes, skills that will come in handy on his journey back from a ten-year war. In his absence, his wife must ward off a group of voracious suitors, while she weaves a tapestry and reassures their son, Telemachus, that his father is still alive. Her mother-in-law, Antikla, nags, kvetches, disparages, moans and groans and makes her daughter-in-law’s predicament worse. Odysseus and Penelope cuts back and forth between Penelope and her husband’s stupefying journey.

Beutel has taken on the epic story of Odysseus the King of Ithaca, and Penelope his queen. Beutel has boiled it down to the bare bones (more or less) without losing the essence or upshot. Key moments are preserved: notorious episodes, grisly outcomes. Odysseus and Penelope captures the shock, the fear, the misery, the despair. One of the great strengths of Greek drama is its visceral, implacable ability to get under our skin. Beutel’s minimalistic approach is something of a risk, but somehow, it works. We get a feel for the arduous voyage, the dark humor of their struggle with the Cyclops, Penelope’s constant battle with violent alphadogs, the danger relentlessly stalking husband, wife and son.

On the other hand, one of the obstacles when staging Greek plays, is their tendency to get bogged down in rhetoric. You don’t want to spend a long in exposition, but you also want to do justice to content. It’s quite impressive how Beutel, Outcry Theatre, and drama students from SMU have converged to create this deeply affecting spectacle. This fluid and daring and truly poised performance. Megan Muscato and Reagan Wren’s choreography, Giulia Garbani and Fara Goldsmith’s shadow imagery, Beutel’s musical arrangements. The actors seamlessly move from dialogue to subtle, elegant dance episodes. The shadow images, emerging behind screens, add enigma, strangeness, something unsettling. Beutel’s eclectic series of songs: mournful, aching, wistful, blend (to my surprise) especially well with the saga unfolding before us.

Odysseus and Penelope played July 21-23rd, 2023, a collaboration of Outcry Theatre, and the SMU Theatre Department. “Mixed-Media” scarcely seems to describe this sophisticated, ingenious montage of mythology, tragedy, and dazzling, theatrical energy.

I was privileged to be there.

Bernard has got it figured out. An American architect who lives in Paris, he juggles three different stewardesses. Gretchen is from Germany, Gabriella from Italy, and Gloria from America. Each believes she is engaged to Bernard. Bernard has secured a copy of the airline timetables, so he can schedule, without danger of their paths crossing. His misguided sense of confidence, is just begging to blow up in his face.

Bernard has a French housekeeper, the dour, long suffering Berthe. Not only is she expected to change cuisines (depending on which fiancee’) she must run interference, lest she tip Bernard’s hand. All this in addition to the rest of her chores, in a three bedroom flat. Berthe is never even close to disrespectful or insolent, but she is a master of tone. Make no mistake, she’ll have you for supper, without batting an eye. And it’s astonishing.

On this particular day, Robert, an old school chum, has surprised Bernard. He’s on a trip to visit relatives, and dropped by to say: “Hello.” Overjoyed, he invites Robert to stay and be his guest, while in France. He explains his ingenious ruse to Robert, leaving him quite impressed. Robert is more traditional (which is not to say stuffy) and though he’s amazed how beautiful these ladies are, he’s not persuaded. Robert warns Bernard that it’s just a matter of time before catastrophe prevails. The new Boeing moves at a game-changing velocity, and timetables can change

Written by French playwright Marc Camoletti in 1960, Boeing Boeing has a familiar premise. Robert is looking for a solid, reliable marriage, while Bernard loves having more than one girl on the hook. It might not seem so crass, if he wasn’t promising marriage. He wants more than he’s willing to invest. We’re shocked to discover one of betrothed is actually playing along until someone better proposes. Perhaps Bernard isn’t quite the genius Lothario he believes himself to be.

Director Jannette Oswald has achieved a triumph with this romantic farce, currently playing at The Richardson Theatre Centre. Slamming doors, fantastic fabrications, impossible coincidences, bizarre behavior, it’s all here.

I cannot remember the last time I laughed so happily, so loud, for so long. The timing is flawless, the absurdity pervasive, the jabs at sex, wicked, the physical hi-jinks, unbelievable. Ms. Oswald has taken this frantic, antic, delirious cast, Samantha Calatozzo (Gloria) Eddy Herring (Bernard) Molly Bower (Berthe) Blair Mitchell (Robert) Shea McMillan (Gabriella) and Hannah Burns (Gretchen) and created a marvel of mischief, mania, merriment and giddy guffaws. Any actor knows that this kind of brilliance only comes from hard work, focus, and summoning the audacity you need to light the candle.

How about a reward for that broccoli you had to eat? The recital you had to sit through? That load of laundry you got done? Drop what you’re doing and go. To Boeing Boeing

Richardson Theatre Centre presents Boeing Boeing playing July 14th-30th, 2023. 518 West Arapaho Road, Suite 113, Richardson Texas, 75080. 972-699-1130. facebook.com/RichardsonTheatreCentre.

Raymonde and Lucienne are dear friends and Raymonde needs advice. Victor, her husband, hasn’t been performing in the sack, and she worries he’s buying cupcakes from a different bakery. (Please excuse the mixed metaphor). After some spitballing they’ve concocted the perfect scheme. They will send a love note from an anonymous admirer to Victor, begging him to meet at the notorious Frisky Puss. She claims she spotted him from afar at the opera. Victor (assuming it can’t be him) passes the note on to his handsome buddy Tournel, who sat him next him. Unbeknownst to Victor, Tournel and Raymonde have been flirting for years. Camille, Victor’s nephew, suffers from a pesky speech impediment. He meets Dr. Finache (a family physician) at the same, crass, debauched hotel, where the good doctor presents him with a silver palate, which miraculously works. As intersecting rendezvous bring most of the characters to The Den of Moral Turpitude, they encounter a drunken hotel employee named Poche, a doppelganger for Victor. A doppelganger is a dead ringer by accident. Supposedly we all have one.

A Flea in Her Ear (adapted by David Ives from Georges Feydeau’) is a French Sex Farce, a comedy of errors. Misguided conclusions, unlikely coincidence, male bravado, insecurity, the need for extramarital (or otherwise inappropriate) recreation. Playwright George Feydeau’ aims, I’m guessing, for the folly of French hubris, with all it’s pretensions of elevated reasoning and lofty behavior. Sex is messy, spontaneous, embarrassing, and fraught with possibilities for disaster. If something bad can happen, it must. If you try to stack the deck, you’ll regret it. As with any farce, havoc ensues. Doors continuously slam, no one simply leaves, they scram. Weapons are drawn, brawling and scrapping, a given. Characters are subjected to shame, humiliation, ridiculous ordeals. I think the reason we call this “adult comedy” is the grown-ups have lived long enough to know, absurd though it may be, A Flea in Her Ear is not necessarily as improbable as we’d like to hope.

There’s a certain appeal to the visceral in Flea. A tendency to aim lower, when everyone else is aiming low. Much is made of the hotelier/pimp’s penchant for delivering beatings. The hilarity of Camille’s pointless attempts to communicate. Victor and Dr. Finache interrupted just as he’s dropping his trousers for inspection. Jealous husbands set more on homicide than confrontation. Perhaps its the simmering hormones? Perhaps the urgency of sybaritic appetite? Perhaps it’s the satisfaction of witnessing how (the best?) sex turns the most noble of mammals into troglodytes.

Do I recommend Allen Contemporary Theatre’s tongue-in-cheek, frenetic, posh–not posh production of A Flea in Her Ear? I do. Ne touche pas.

Allen Contemporary Theatre presents A Flea in Her Ear (Georges Feydeau’, adapted by David Ives) playing June 30^th -July 16^th, 2023. 1210 East Main Street, # 300, Allen, Texas 75002. 844-822-8249. allencontemporary theatre.net

 

 

Raymonde and Lucienne are dear friends and Raymonde needs advice. Victor, her husband, hasn’t been performing in the sack, and she worries he’s buying cupcakes from a different bakery. (Please excuse the mixed metaphor). After some spitballing they’ve concocted the perfect scheme. They will send a love note from an anonymous admirer to Victor, begging him to meet at the notorious Frisky Puss. She claims she spotted him from afar at the opera. Victor (assuming it can’t be him) passes the note on to his handsome buddy Tournel, who sat him next him. Unbeknownst to Victor, Tournel and Raymonde have been flirting for years. Camille, Victor’s nephew, suffers from a pesky speech impediment. He meets Dr. Finache (a family physician) at the same, crass, debauched hotel, where the good doctor presents him with a silver palate, which miraculously works. As intersecting rendezvous bring most of the characters to The Den of Moral Turpitude, they encounter a drunken hotel employee named Poche, a doppelganger for Victor. A doppelganger is a dead ringer by accident. Supposedly we all have one.

A Flea in Her Ear (adapted by David Ives from Georges Feydeau’) is a French Sex Farce, a comedy of errors. Misguided conclusions, unlikely coincidence, male bravado, insecurity, the need for extramarital (or otherwise inappropriate) recreation. Playwright George Feydeau’ aims, I’m guessing, for the folly of French hubris, with all it’s pretensions of elevated reasoning and lofty behavior. Sex is messy, spontaneous, embarrassing, and fraught with possibilities for disaster. If something bad can happen, it must. If you try to stack the deck, you’ll regret it. As with any farce, havoc ensues. Doors continuously slam, no one simply leaves, they scram. Weapons are drawn, brawling and scrapping, a given. Characters are subjected to shame, humiliation, ridiculous ordeals. I think the reason we call this “adult comedy” is the grown-ups have lived long enough to know, absurd though it may be, A Flea in Her Ear is not necessarily as improbable as we’d like to hope.

There’s a certain appeal to the visceral in Flea. A tendency to aim lower, when everyone else is aiming low. Much is made of the hotelier/pimp’s penchant for delivering beatings. The hilarity of Camille’s pointless attempts to communicate. Victor and Dr. Finache interrupted just as he’s dropping his trousers for inspection. Jealous husbands set more on homicide than confrontation. Perhaps its the simmering hormones? Perhaps the urgency of sybaritic appetite? Perhaps it’s the satisfaction of witnessing how (the best?) sex turns the most noble of mammals into hogs, squealing in the mud.

Do I recommend Allen Contemporary Theatre’s tongue-in-cheek, frenetic, posh–not posh production of A Flea in Her Ear? I do. Ne touche pas.

Allen Contemporary Theatre presents A Flea in Her Ear (Georges Feydeau’, adapted by David Ives) playing June 30^th -July 16^th, 2023. 1210 East Main Street, # 300, Allen, Texas 75002. 844-822-8249. allencontemporary theatre.net