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WaterTower Theatre’s wry, comic, slyly patriotic The Taming

Political satire is all the rage right now. Desperate times call for merciless punditry, all the better to ease the chaos that rises like Noah’s flood. Terms like: “partisanship”, “tribalism”, “unruly” and “insurrection” barely seem to cover it. If it all. To the rescue comes Lauren Gunderson with The Taming, a cunningly constructed fable. Three women find themselves somehow in a rather wild dialectic on the foundations of democracy and constitutional government. Gunderson has written a smart, glib allegory on how practical, decent, too often polarized folks can coexist. The Taming is entertaining, if not altogether substantive.

Patricia and Bianca find themselves held prisoner in an upscale hotel room, with no idea how they got there. Patricia works for a carnivorous, ultraconservative senator. Bianca is a left-wing progressive liberal, who writes a very successful blog. Both have the fierce courage of their convictions, and once the other is identified as an arch-nemesis, the litany of name-calling ensues. The two square off, while trying to ascertain how they’ve found themselves in this posh prison, nursing brutal hangovers. Enter Katherine, Georgia’s contestant for the Miss America Contest. Not only is she a devoted, articulate patriot (as are the other two) she is on a crusade, to salvage our sinking society. Gracious and respectful though she may be, she refuses to parole Bianca and Patricia until they work out a manifesto to restore America to its former integrity. Such as it was. The three embark on an excursion to colonial times, when the forefathers were hammering out the details of the Constitution.

The program notes explain The Taming is Gunderson’s spin on Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew, which struck me as odd. Shakespeare’s comedy considers male versus female dynamic; dominance and capitulation to the alpha. While Gunderson’s comedy is nothing if not feminist. If Katherine has the upper hand it’s nothing to do with her gender or sexual orientation. If anything The Taming mocks these stereotypes, which is fine, because, it is a spoof.

Director Cheryl Denson has juggled the elements of bickering, optimism and subversiveness with great skill, using the considerable strengths of Kimberly Michelle Thomas, Leslie Marie Colins and Jenna Caire to best advantage. The actors evolve as the narrative does, skillfully avoiding the appearance of contrivance. Denson handles the improbable premise with a light, yet firm touch, sailing through without missing a note.

WaterTower Theatre presented: The Taming: October 13th-24th, 2021. 15650 Addison Rd, Addison, TX 75001. 972-450-6232 Boxoffice@Watertowertheatre.org

Dance, monkey, dance! Classics Theatre Project’s audacious Hairy Ape

Classics Theatre Project’s The Hairy Ape opens with spectacular moment: jarring electric guitars, pounding, foreboding drumbeat, muscular, sweaty, grimy guys in the boiler room of a luxury liner. Our focus is drawn to a man (later identified as “Bob”) crouching at center stage, his body tough but somewhat rounded. No fat. We hear the men grousing and growling, sneering and guffawing. They sing and drink from bottles and flasks. They joke and mock each other good-naturedly. An older guy, experienced enough to share wisdom, often lapses into the fanciful, perhaps something to nourish the famished souls of his fellows. But Bob waves it all away, he doesn’t need nobody, no respite, no kindness. He says, “I gotta keep moving. Moving” Like a force of nature.

Then, an attractive young heiress asks to tour, against the warnings of the staff. She wanders into the boiler room, just as Bob is having a meltdown, screaming he’s gonna kill another guy, beat him down, this sort of thing. The girl, obviously unacquainted with this kind of venting and bluster, is stricken. When goes to comfort her, she pulls away convulsively, calling him a “horrible, horrible man.” Unexpectedly, this wounds him deeply. This incident sends him on a journey. He comes to New York City, stoked by a buddy’s pitch for the Communist Party. It makes sense, considering their rhetoric of the wealthy exploiting the working class. He encounters the effete hoi polloi, a political men’s club, the company of other guys in jail, even the zoo.

At the outset, Bob seems like a clown, a caricature. It’s fair to say male paradigms have evolved since the 1920’s. But males as creatures far closer to the visceral, the unvarnished, the enraged, goes back to ancient Greece. I imagine most men get this. We all fall prey to cultural expectations. Bob gets along in the milieu he knows best, where reason is scorned and courtesy pretentious. Meeting the young lady makes him feel inadequate. He’s not wrong when he says he’s as good as anybody. His life is formidable and valuable. He’s just never learned to watch and imitate. So bent on proving himself, it’s against his nature to fit in.

Joey Folsom has conceived an overwhelming, cunning adaptation of Eugene O’Neill’s The Hairy Ape. A darkly sardonic exploration of manhood and man’s purpose as King of the Mammals. Folsom has amplified and exponentially distilled, O’Neill’s implacable pathos. Our profound ache to subsist in a world of chaos.

The Classics Theatre Project presents Eugene O’Neill’s The Hairy Ape, playing October 13^th through November 6^th, 2021. The Core Theater:518 West Arapaho Road, Richardson, Texas 75080. 214-930-5338. www.thecoretheatre.org

ACT plays peek-a-boo with theatre tropes in The Fourth Wall

The “fourth wall” is a theatrical convention that goes back to ancient times. Like other illusions, it amounts to an agreement between audience and players: a wall between that (for all intents and purposes) functions as a window to the characters’ lives. I couldn’t tell you who first speculated that being observed changes the behavior of those being observed. Only that A. R. Gurney has taken this trope and run with it. No stranger to innovation, one of Gurney’s most noteworthy pieces (The Dining Room) features characters that change with the evolving milieu of a dining room in the same home that changes with shifting cultural mores, over time.

At the beginning of The Fourth Wall, Roger has solicited Julia (a family friend) to offer an opinion on his wife Peggy’s unorthodox design choices. In their otherwise posh living room, she has left one wall completely bare. No paintings, no decor, no furniture, no shelves. To make matters worse, everything focuses attention on this blank wall. To what end? Has Peggy lost her mind? Julia vehemently agrees that a serious problem exists. When confronted, Peggy nonchalantly acknowledges that yes, it was intentional. In the current vernacular, this admission is the triggering event.

I don’t mean to sound so grim, though the characters certainly make quite an issue over poorly conceived aesthetic. Now Peggy begins to toy with the conjecture that a theoretical audience exists, watching (and therefore tacitly) and participating in their lives. Upheaval ensues. The characters (performers?) consider decisions in the abstract. Peggy’s dialogue takes on a rhetorical tone. Her marriage to Roger is in jeopardy. Julia connives to exploit this by seducing Roger. Are these turn of events happening because they might, or they must? Are they shaped by a strategy of the playwright, or contemporary standards? A Professor of Dramatic Theory (as I recall?) is enlisted to clarify and hopefully, resolve this quandary that threatens their very existence.

Under the sharp and intuitive direction of Eddy Herring: Kenneth Fulenwider (Roger) Sheila Rose (Julia) Janette Oswald (Peggy) and Kelton Neals (Floyd) navigate this delightfully absurd premise with flexibility and panache. Are they acting on the playwright’s imperative or his whims? Oswald’s very satisfying as the pioneer, who embraces the intrepid with relaxed eclat. Rose is charming and amusing, mixing sophistication with thirsty cunning. Fulenwider is hilarious as the beleaguered, flustered husband, torn between integrity and infidelity. Neals brings zany erudition to Floyd, who juggles between the conceptual and practical. Should he venture into the abstract or the comfortable familiar?

Allen’s Community Theatre presents: The Fourth Wall, playing from September 17^th through October 9^th, 2021. 1210 East Main Street # 300, Allen, Texas, 75002. 844-822-8849. www.AllensCommunityTheatre.net

Rover’s World Premiere of touching, intriguing Proprioception

Kylie and Esther are Mike’s patients, a gifted physical therapist. He is assisted by Randy, who wants to be a P.T. himself. Mike mentors Randy, and they’re friends. Kylie is an extraordinary ballet dancer. Her career is jeopardized when a last minute substitute fails to catch her. She is looking to Mike to achieve miracles. Esther is receiving rehabilitation from knee surgery. She is a Holocaust survivor. Hoping the two will have a healing effect on each other, Mike schedules their sessions at the same time. Perhaps Esther’s fortitude and gratitude, in the face of adversity, might inspire Kylie?

The title of Marilyn Millstone’s drama: Proprioception, means the way your body moves through the world. Millstone tacitly asks, is our mien, our demeanor, a response to internal struggles or in spite of them? Each character has a hidden side, and unresolved issues lurking deeper than personality would suggest. Each character has been deprived of something cherished. Something precious to any of us. Through no fault of their own. Proprioception addresses anti-semitism, racism, the arrogance of privilege, though not in ways we might expect. Millstone reveals painful details of Mike, Esther and Kylie’s lives. Aspects that have kept them from moving forward.

Director Carol Rice has brought a sure hand to this complex narrative. The pacing is spot on and the tone, pitch perfect. Ms. Rice never avoids complicated plays, or involved projects. Show after show exhibits her subtle, bravura expertise. Mike (Jason R. Davis) Esther (Sue Doty-Goodner) Randy (Bennett Frohock) Kylie (Jill Lightfoot) deliver nuanced, heartfelt performances, that are touching and entertaining. This is a demanding script, but you’d never guess from the confidence and precision of these gifted actors. Davis is self-assured, but down-to-earth and accessible. Doty-Goodner carries her burdens with humor and dignity. Lightfoot gradually moves from ahubris, to warmth and vulnerability. Brohock brings an avid congeniality yet pensive undercurrent to the story.

Rover Dramawerks presents the world premiere of Marilyn Millstone’s Proprioception: winner of the 2020 AACT NewPlayFest Award. Playing September 9th-18th, 2021. Cox Playhouse: 1517 H Avenue, Plano, Texas 75074. 972-849-0358. www.roverdramawerks.com

Rover’s World Premiere of Proprioception absorbing, poignant theatre

Director Carol Rice has brought a sure hand to this complex narrative. The pacing is spot on and the tone, pitch perfect. Ms. Rice never avoids complicated plays, or involved projects. Show after show exhibits her subtle, bravura expertise. Mike (Jason R. Davis) Esther (Sue Doty-Goodner) Randy (Bennet Frohock) Kylie (Jill Lightfoot) deliver nuanced, heartfelt performances, that are touching and entertaining. This is a demanding script, but you’d never guess from the confidence and precision of these gifted actors. Davis is self-assured, but down-to-earth and accessible. Doty-Goodner carries her burdens with humor and dignity. Lightfoot gradually moves from hubris, to warmth and vulnerability. Brohock brings an avid congeniality yet pensive undercurrent to the story.

Rover’s Proprioception absorbing, poignant drama

From Cradle to tomb: Outcry’s July production of Cabaret

In 1929 Christopher Isherwood was sent down from University, and as a result, decided to visit Berlin, to seek his destiny as a writer. This was during the Nazi Occupation. There he discovered The Kit Kat Klub, and became friends with the British chanteuse, Sally Bowles. From this intrepid expedition to the underbelly of Germany came Isherwood’s famous novel: Goodbye To Berlin. Next came the play, I Am A Camera, by John Van Druten, and after that, Masteroff, Kander and Ebb’s Cabaret, in the early 1960’s.

Cabaret was a watershed in the American Theatre Canon. Nothing that came after would ever be the same. No one knew what to make of it. Here was a musical that addressed the creeping, sinister triumph of the Nazi Regime, and subsequently genocide, antisemitism, and the “banality of evil”. The premise: a crumby nightclub where people come to ignore their troubles, is deceptively simple. On its face, Cabaret suggests something harmless. We all have troubles, what problem could there be with escapism? How could otherwise caring souls turn a blind eye to the systematic persecution of the Jews living in Berlin? And Sally Bowles (the mediocre nightclub singer) becomes the metaphor for fatuous hedonism. For all her loopy energy, she’s quite likable. Which is what makes her curiously defiant performance of “Cabaret”, all the more disturbing. It comes off as a rebuke to Clifford, who’s disgusted with her unconscionable choices.

Clifford spends his first night in Berlin at The Kit Kat Club. He rents a room in a boarding house from Fraulein Schneider, a sweet elderly woman, who has experienced much disappointment. The club is a dive, hosted by the Emcee, a caricature of grotesque, salacious degeneracy. There he meets Sally, all frantic charm and hopped up chatter. She shows up at his tiny apartment, more or less inviting herself to move in. She introduces him to the wicked nightlife she knows quite well, much to Clifford’s delight. He neglects his aspirations as an author, spending most of his time kicking up his heels. Then he starts noticing the rise of Fascism and escalating persecution of the Jews. Cabaret culminates when Clifford confronts Sally with her appalling, shallow apathy. Sally refuses to go with him, when he returns to America, as the Nazis begin turning everything upside down.

Outcry Theatre has been producing sharp, intelligent, powerful shows for quite awhile, now. Cabaret is no exception. The cast is dedicated, avid and memorably touching. Their ability to evoke such an absorbing narrative with minimal sets and demanding rehearsal schedule, is truly remarkable. It takes unusual skill and chutzpah to bring a musical like Cabaret to the stage, with its chilling irony. It’s odd mixture of wry humor and dreadful portent. Masteroff, Kander and Ebb fashioned a musical where content has cunning, duplicitous meaning. Where the subtext points a finger at the audience. This is not a show for repertory, impulse or amateurs. Outcry has chosen a show with stunning relevance in our current crisis of mob rule and upheaval. And the cast has come through with astonishing virtuosity.

Outcry Theatre presented Cabaret July-15th-18th, 2021 at Cox Playhouse. Outcry’s address is: 1915 North Central Expressway, Suite 120, Plano, Texas 75075. 972-836-7206. www.outcrytheatre.com

MainStage’s Me & Jezebel sharp-witted, sublime comedy

MainStage’s Me & Jezebel

Written by Elizabeth J. Fuller, Me and Jezebel is a comedy inspired by Fuller’s true experience. During a hotel strike, a friend asks if she and her family can can put up Bette Davis, for a day or two. Of course, Elizabeth says yes. Who wouldn’t host a legendary film star, with the inimitable panache of Bette Davis? She makes all the preparations for her special guest, and as we might expect, is a bit awestruck. When Davis arrives, she takes charge, more or less. She is wearing a big hat and goggley sunglasses that conceal most of her face. Bette Davis is nothing if not attitude. She mentions the pothole in the drive way, the terrible mattress, the constant “Yabba-Dabba- Doo” she hears when their son Christopher, watches The Flintstones. “Keeeee-reyst!” she complains. “It makes me want to VOM-it!”

One of the dangers here, is the public’s unending love affair with cantankerous old ladies who have a repertoire of obscenities and curses. At the end of the day, we find such behavior quaint, which is facile and certainly no favor to Ms. Davis. Fuller recounts her behavior as outspoken, if not entirely reasonable. Pushy, but not obnoxious. Bette Davis might not be submissive, but neither is she a harridan. Jezebel and Me is set during the 1980’s when Davis’ daughter released My Mother’s Keeper, right on the heels of Christina Crawford’s memoir: Mommie, Dearest. When she and Elizabeth watch the interview with her daughter, Davis is not thrilled. But she doesn’t have a meltdown, which is surprising. She’s bitter and hurt, but classy. Again and again, we see her considerate side, she’s patient with the noisy Christopher, takes Elizabeth out to lunch and cooks for them. As if she’s trying to balance her outrageousness with grace. A lesser playwright might have copped to caricature or character assassination (which often happens, when a celebrity is played in drag). Fuller lets us see her as dignified, but defiant, when sleighted.

Bailey Maxwell puts in an admirable performance as Elizabeth. She’s bright, intelligent, tactful and gung-ho, without being perky or a door mat. When she talks about the novel she’s writing, we don’t surmise she’s a hobbyist who thinks anyone can do it. Doug Fowler, as the sublime, regal rebel of the silver screen is impressive. Fowler undoubtedly has the knack for the best kind of comedy. The sort that elicits helpless laughter. There’s little resemblance (and I say this as a compliment) but it absolutely doesn’t matter. He delivers the role with such confidence and sentience, he evokes the lady herself. My teenage nephew (with shocking ignorance of Davis’ amazing career) thoroughly loved the play. Laughing right along with me.

Mainstage Irving presents Jezebel and Me: playing July 23rd-August 7^th, 2021. Dupree Theater- Irving-Los Colinas- Arts Center– 3333 North MacArthur Blvd, Irving Texas 75062. 972-252-2787. www.mainstageirving.com

Mainstage’s Jezebel & Me sharp-witted, sublime comedy

WaterTower Theatre’s poetic, deeply affecting: Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

Christopher Boone is 15 and lives in England with his dad. His mother died suddenly of heart problems, so it’s just the two of them. He has a pet rat named Toby, a computer, a Swiss Army Knife. His favorite color is red. Christopher is a math prodigy and falls along the autism scale. One morning he finds Wellington, a big, shaggy dog he’s fond of, dead. In the garden by his home. The poor creature has a pitchfork in his back. The owner (a neighbor woman) immediately assumes Christopher is the culprit, and calls the police. The cop doesn’t understand he can’t be touched, and misinterprets his reaction as hostility. His dad must collect him from the station. Later, when Christopher resolves to find the culprit responsible for Wellington’s murder, his dad tells him flat out, he’s to leave it alone.

Adapted for the stage by Simon Stephens (from the novel by Mark Haddon) The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, tells us Christopher’s story, from his worldview. It’s constructed from numerous, insightful devices. Characters read aloud from Christopher’s journal. They participate in particular passages. They interact with Christopher in ways that reveal something about him, and them too. Solemn episodes are given their due moment. Christopher doesn’t necessarily respond to kindness, but not because he’s hostile. The focus he needs to function, doesn’t go beyond life on its face.

Colloquialisms and metaphors confuse Christopher. When we learn he cannot lie, it’s not because he’s noble. It’s a simple fact. A powerful aspect of Curious Incident is the consideration of truth. How the decision to divulge the hidden, has consequences. No one’s saying that sticking to the truth isn’t crucial. But it often asks for a painful shift in comprehension. After Christopher has an excruciating epiphany, he goes to pieces. In this regard he’s just like the rest of us. We all have moments that drench us in misery: overwhelming and merciless.

One of Curious Incident’s undeniable strengths is the refusal to treat Christopher as if he’s precious, or quaint. When his dad discovers he’s nicked his credit card, he says, “You little shit…” as any dad might. Christopher might be unorthodox, he might not notice the obvious, but he doesn’t miss much. He’s not treated as an outlier. Despite the difficulties that come with his situation, Christopher is never treated with pity.

Director Emily Scott Banks skillfully manages this poetically sentient drama with nuance and canniness. It’s deceptively straightforward. The cast is dedicated, poised and present. Their raw emotions emerge without shame or exaggeration. Somehow along the way, Curious Incident reveals the phenomenal sensations waiting for us. It drops us into life with all its crumminess and radiance. Disappointment and pleasure. Then yields to the occasions when the frantic gives way to unexpected grace.

WaterTower Theatre (Addison Theatre Centre) presents: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. Playing July 14th-25th, 2021. Live and In-Person. 15650 Addison Rd, Addison TX, 75001. 972.450.6230. Boxoffice@watertowertheatre.org