Author: christophersoden@sbcglobal.net

 

A collaboration between Danielle Georgiou and Justin Locklear, The Bippy Bobby Boo Show: Call-In Special is a mashup spoof of pop and trash culture television that owes a great debt to Laugh In, What We Do in the Shadows, and the kind of variety shows (Dean Martin, Carol Burnett, Sony and Cher Comedy Hour) that featured solos by singers with great pipes and gobs of gravitas. There is a medium, a self-absorbed chanteuse, a stage manager, a stand-up comic, go-go dancers in bell bottoms and so forth. Georgiou’s choreography is varied and energetic, whether it’s the stylized, nonchalance of the 70’s or the wobbly convulsions of zombies.

At the beginning I thought that Bippy was on a nostalgia bender until I realized that all the characters are ghosts. It’s probably both. Except Nick, who longs to join their realm. He makes a pact with the Devil, manifested by a creepy, squeaky, bilious red puppet. The Call-In guests (I tried a couple of times myself) add another layer to this exploration of campiness, tongue-in-cheek irony, and a sort of tacit resignation. Much is revved up or vamped, with only the occasional hint at subtext. There seems to be a kind of mania informing most of the pieces, except for the lugubrious divas, torchy and turgid.

Bippy trades in grotesque, nearly vaudevillian content, some kinds of performance effectively being their own derision. At the same time it pays tribute to the tropes and icons of bourgeois entertainment, it diminishes it. You watch, convinced it cannot possibly be on the level, and yet it is. It was only years after I’d watched Green Acres that a friend explained it was the genius of mainstream absurdism. Bippy certainly pays dubious tribute to the frantic energy of a host like Bippy Bobby, who keeps the gags rolling with insipid gusto. Here and there (true to the old adage) throwaway sotto voce comments reveal his contempt for the audience.

The Bippy Bobby Boo Show is a triumph of style, ingenuity, tone and savvy. It works very well on its face, but the unspoken despair, the longing for us to evolve as a culture, to let go of empty values, also comes through. Georgiou and Locklear have created a strange and complicated, yet quite satisfying critique of loopy, congealed content that panders to mindless kitsch. Like Shakespeare it’s got something for everyone, whether you’re in the front row, or the nosebleeds.

Danielle Georgiou Dance Group and Theatre Three present: The Bippy Bobby Boo Show: Call-In Special. Last chance to see Tuesday, November 3^rd, 2020: Election Night! Tickets are $15 and are available for purchase at www.Theatre3Dallas.com

 

Based on the 1912 novel by Jean Webster, Daddy Long Legs is a musical composed by Paul Gordon (Music and Lyrics) and John Caird (Book). It tells the story of Jerusha Abbott, who has grown up in The John Grier Orphanage, and has no friends or acquaintances, to speak of. At 17, she has finished her education (such as the orphanage can provide) and lives there, doing chores and helping out. After board members have finished their evaluation, Jerusha is called in by the Headmistress. There she is informed that a benefactor has noticed her intelligence and depth, and wishes to send her to college, all expenses paid. Said benefactor usually only helps young men, but he’s so impressed, he makes an exception. She must mail him letters monthly, with progress reports. But she can never know his name, or expect replies.

Jerusha’s certain she saw her generous sponsor as he left the orphanage. Rejecting the cold formality of “Mr. John Smith”, she begins her first letter by dubbing him: “Daddy Long Legs”. The fact that this is also the name of an insect, sort of sets the tone for our story. Unlike other girls, Jerusha has no compunctions when it comes to appreciating bugs. She’s warm and earnest and forthcoming and has no use for propriety over sincerity. She’s sentient and astonished by the phenomenal and pleasant world that Jervis Pendleton (AKA John Smith) has opened for her. Jervis, by contrast, has begun to have second thoughts. Not because of anything his protege has done. He simply feels lost making sense of the female realm.

It speaks highly of a show that so thoroughly engulf us, considering there are two characters who connect only through one-sided correspondence. Personally I wondered how it was supposed to happen. A piece like this could easily be safe or predictable. But Director Derek Whitener is too brave for that. As we see their relationship evolve, the chemistry is positively intoxicating. I must point out here:     I have never attended a single musical at Firehouse that wasn’t intrepid, professional, poised, brimming with energy and sublime content. Under the sharp direction of Whitener, Caitlin Martelle Jones (Jerusha Abbott) and Preston Lee Isham (Jervis Pendleton) give intuitive, invested, poignant performances that are deeply moving and consistently entertaining. Firehouse always comes through with remarkable, exhilarating plays and Daddy long Legs is no exception.

Firehouse Theatre presents: Daddy Long Legs, a streaming event featured from September 25th-October 11^th, 2020. 2535 Valley View Lane, Farmers Branch, Texas 75234. 972-484-3121
www.thefirehousetheatre.com

When you consider the numerous dramatizations of the development of the atom bomb (Fail Safe, Dr. Strangelove, Insignificance…) and the profound ethical questions raised, Mark Oristano’s The Impact of the Gadget on Civilization is a brilliant example of distillation, brevity and nuanced intensity. His strategy of creating a dialectic between Albert Einstein and Robert Oppenheimer, efficiently and thoughtfully takes us to the heart of the matter. Oppenheimer invites Einstein (his old friend) to elicit his help with the Manhattan Project, the notorious codename for the development of nuclear weapons. It’s clear that Oppenheimer’s been been enlisted to persuade Doctor Einstein to lend a hand, as the countless scientists, experts and soldiers are, ironically, stuck.

It’s also clear by the nature of Oppenheimer’s pitch, that something’s up. He speaks with a certain finality, as if the points he makes are without question. As if he’s concealing something. For a fellow scientist, his explanations seem a bit thin and simplistic. Einstein, by contrast, comes from a place of healthy skepticism. (There’s a reason why the title refers to the bomb as a “gadget”.) He makes congenial jabs at Oppenheimer, offering clarifications and distinctions, never being contentious. Oppenheimer deals in hypotheticals and moral relativism. Maddening examples like torture for the sake of saving lives. If this situation ever occurs, wouldn’t you say anything to stop the agony? True or not? Oppenheimer doesn’t use that particular paradigm, but instead, suggests that the bomb will end the war far more efficiently, sparing American lives. As if Japanese lives are worthless.

Oristano deals in complex characters, but essentially Einstein argues on the side of mercy and humanity, and Oppenheimer, Draconian expediency. A tacit urgency seems to drive Oppenheimer (and perhaps guilt). Einstein is cool and patient, confident in his position. T. A. Taylor’s Einstein is beautifully realized, as well as Evan Michael Woods’ Oppenheimer. David Saldivar plays Corporal Goodman, supporting the narrative and Taylor and Evans. There is a melancholy music (Tanner Peterson) that weaves through this drama, reminding us that Oristano’s script transcends the match of wits by two great minds.

IMPRINT TheatreWorkspresents: The Impact of the Gadget on Civilization, streaming September 17th-20th, 2020.

www.imprinttheatreworks.org

Whenever I visit The Ochre House I confess a sensation of exhilaration and dread, as if I were entering a sacred temple where the elemental truths of humanity might be revealed horrifically or congenially, pathetically or uproariously. Maybe both. Currently playwright and director Matthew Posey is offering The Egg Salesman, a gentle, saucy, comedic fable exploring the virtues of rich humanity over seeking validation by the world’s measure of success. Donald Trump may be wealthy beyond anyone’s most extravagant imaginings, but at the end of the day, nobody likes a putz.

Marvin, the hero of our saga, is still trying to find his way. Like the rest of us. He’s in love with Mary, and just the legendary duo of George Burns and Gracie Allen, Mary’s preposterous logic may keep Marvin on his toes (and inspire the occasional cringe) but the sweetness she brings to his restless heart is more than enough to keep him enchanted. Mary may follow what first appears to be the path of absurdity, but she may be onto more than Marvin realizes.

Marvin is a dedicated, avid egg salesman. He’s playing hooky from work, so he and Mary can enjoy a day at the dog-track, betting on the hounds. Unbeknownst to Mary, Marvin is deeply in debt to the tune of five figures, a predicament he hopes to resolve if he can just navigate the tip sheet resourcefully. Their friend, CJ is there too (bemoaning his tumultuous marital woes) and unfortunately, Marvin’s boss, Ken Looper, who thinks Marvin is at work, diligently documenting the poultry reports. Mr. Looper has brought his rambunctious wife, Katharine along, a zaftig and flirtatious gal who embodies the spirit of spontaneous, tactile recreation. Providing wisecracking narrative are Cigarette Girls : Bebe and Barbs.

Though it feels whimsical and off the cuff, The Egg Salesman is masterful in its vaudevillian timing and exquisite sense of the preposterous. The actors are having a picnic and we’re invited. Successful comedy is a delicate, chemical endeavor that makes nuclear physics seems like stirring up a box of Duncan Hines Brownies. We all want to laugh. The performers certainly want to engage us in that elusive, ebullient magic. But just like the redemption poor Marvin is seeking to pull his life from the pit of despair, humor has more to do with experience, intuition and skill, than conventional logic and loaded content. There’s something so blissful and sublime in this loopy, frantically subdued allegory, like a rowboat down the lazy river. You really, really, really should go. It’s splendelicious.

 

As we hunkered down to make the best of enhanced family time and/or solitude, The Firehouse Theater came to our rescue with Taylor Mercado Owens’ Curiouser. Directed by Olivia Grace Murphy, Curiouser is a smart and quirky gloss on Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, conceived as a Zoom Class, with all the constraints and opportunities that venue implies. The brainchild of a Master Class offered by Firehouse, Curiouser finds us in the midst of Ms. Selmon’s English Class, where the students are up in arms, because they’re expected to process the Lewis Carroll classic, despite the way it flagrantly flouts comprehensible narrative. It doesn’t make any sense! they wail, as their dedicated teacher tries to explain that perhaps this is the point.

Alicia, one of the more engaged scholars, defends Selmon’s choice before she dozes off, waking to discover she’s adrift in Alice’s same predicament. Familiar scenario’s emerge. She’s trapped in a room too large and too small, she queries a contentious (though jovial) Cheshire Cat, she attends a tea-party with guests such as The Dormouse, The Mad Hatter and The March Hare. And wouldn’t you know, each one of these strange characters bear a resemblance to Alicia’s classmates. They have lost their grasp of even the most undeniable details of the actual. Sound familiar?

Director Murphy (who brings an impressive list of credits) shows great facility in adapting Owen’s adaptation to the nether realm of the Zoom Platform. The young cast of Curiouser makes this story their own, bringing their personal traits to the production, under the skillful guidance of Ms. Murphy. Curiouser was delightful and filled with ingenuity, shaping Carroll’s twilight zone to a plot that perhaps might alleviate our shared predicament, if only we can can roll with ourongoing challenges, resisting frustration and perplexity.

Cast: Alicia: Marla Acevedo, Teacher/ Storyteller: Holli Selmon, Rabbit/ Duck/ #3/ Knave: Karl Lewis, Caterpillar/ Student 1/ Door 1/ #5: Savannah Elayyach, Cheshire Cat/ Student 2/ Door 2: Patrick Bilbow, March Hare/ Cake/ #7: Jenna Williamson, Mad Hatter/ Bottle/ #9: Brenna Stewart, Dormouse/ Door 3/ Dodo: Lyric Knight, Queen/ Student 3/ Pigeon: Tonya Wilson Shaw, King/ Student 4/ Mouse: Quentin Maese.

From the first time I attended a show by IMPRINT Theatreworks, I could tell they were exceptional in most every way. They went out of their way to make the audience feel welcome during the curtain speech. They chose unorthodox content. They were palpably exhilarated and you could feel it. Founder Ashley White, et al were possessed of a sweetness, an authenticity, a radiance that tickled your spine like a lightning rod. After that I always looked upon those opening nights with loopy anticipation.

I daresay this pandemic has been something worse than a buzzkill and something less than a catastrophe. But based upon my previously sublime experience with IMPRINT I was stoked (albeit curious) to see how this intrepid theatre troupe would tackle 45’s onslaught on live entertainment. I needn’t have worried. Raise You Up! was a musical revue brimming with earnest warmth and cunning ingenuity, designed to appeal to our shared humanity as performers, artists, technicians, “creators” and lovers of the Arts. IMPRINT has always shown thoughtfulness and respect to everyone involved in making a show a success, including those in the seats. And they’ve always had a knack for dealing in the currency of enthusiasm.

Rise you up! Interlaced off the cuff, yet poignant testimonials to how the recent crisis has brought us together. Unlike the PSA’s we’re subjected to on television, that suggest conundrums and impractical slogans, Raise You Up! seemed to come from a place of down to earth, jovial, anecdotal wisdom that felt therapeutic and helpful. There were musical numbers that involved the entire company, a clever tongue-in-cheek sendup of Kander and Ebb’s “Cell Block Tango” (by way of Henry VIII’s Six Wives) a turbulent cover of Morisette’s “You Oughtta Know”, and numerous other pieces including rock and roll from Lizzie! (their past musical of the life of Lizzie Borden) Murder Ballad, Bring Him Home and Ghost Quartet.

Like past productions of IMPRINT Theatreworks, Raise You Up! never lacked for audacity, energy, professionalism and craft. IMPRINT always gives 200% and they have a gift for making us feel jazzed, surprised, for stirring up our molecules. They are so dedicated to giving us the best they can muster, yet they are crisp while avoiding the slickness of theaters with deeper pockets. And how could you not be delighted by their cast of 20+ actors, singers, musicians…? I came away with a profound sense of gratitude, and appreciation for the warmth and humanity they offer, every time they raise the curtain, and invite us into their realm of the miraculous and beguiling.

Trust Prism Movement Theatre to have the vision and eclat to cook up an ingenious show like Everything Will Be Fine, in the midst of a pandemic. Conceived to function effectively outdoors in a drive-in setting (stay in your car and crank the radio) Everything considers living through a cultural crisis, with no definite end in sight. It opens with two young lovers writing their wedding vows. What follows is a series of events that reflect on the sublime and catastrophic. The painful and resourceful. Prism might have done this differently. Ignoring, for instance the virulent plague that makes precautions crucial. But no, the performers wear their masks, and strangely enough, we nearly forget they have them on.

Prism has a splendid, marvelous history of creating narrative through breathless, vivid motion. The bodies of the dancers stir the space they occupy, brimming with luminous, jazzy energy. I expect they describe their aim as movement to suggest something less formal than dance. In Persephone and a later piece that explored the romance between Medea and Jason before they fled the island of Colchis; there was inventiveness, a genius for amplifying ordinary objects or throwing shadows or animating the static. Speaking as but a troglodyte (when it comes to articulating the experience of dance) I was swoony and agog as they cultivated a canny, giddy sense of wonder. The spontaneity and weightlessness they summoned as if calling upon water nymphs and spirits of air.

Prism, certainly, did all they could to enhance this outdoor show, guiding us into our parking spaces and handing out swag bags with sanitizer, sidewalk chalk, lip balm and programs, et al. The cast (Kelsey Milbourn, Mitchell Stephens, Ania Lyons, Rai K. Barnard, Kwame Lilly, Lauren Floyd, Rico Kartea) emerged from a circle of cars, and headlights served to deepen and complicate the action. There was intimacy and revelry and grief. There was nonsense and danger. How can these limber, avian creatures flirt so flagrantly with gravitational pull? The title: Everything Will Be Fine is both naive and disingenuous. The characters keep moving forward, despite tragedy, but the loftier wisdom seems to suggest that our lives are profound grace, even when we must deal with loss. The spindle continue to turn, ecstasy mixing with devastation.

I want to express my gratitude to Prism Movement Company, for their grand hospitality and kind accommodation. They went out of their way to make me (and the rest of the audience) feel welcome, in these chaotic, mend-bending times. How difficult it must have been, to rise above our present ordeal, and nurture our famished souls with intelligent, overwhelming, defiant moxie.

Prism Movement Theatre: Everything Will Be Fine. Written by Zoe Kerr. Directed by Kwame Lilly and Jeff Colangelo. Dance Choreography by: Kwame Lilly. www.prismco.org. (407) 766-9368. prism.movement.theater@gmail.com

Based on playwright Doug Wright’s interviews with Charlotte Von Mahlsdorf. I Am My Own Wife is an account of a man (Lothar Berfelde) who adopted a female identity, and survived the Nazi Occupation and Communist Regimes. Living in Berlin. Charlotte was virtually open in her vocation. She didn’t conceal her woman’s attire, though you wouldn’t call her flagrant. Somewhere around the same time that Lothar discovered his cousin and advocate, he was to survive baptism by volcano. Lothar’s female cousin enjoyed dressing in men’s clothing, and she sensed he was drawn to frocks. He lived with a violent father, who forced him to join the Hitler Youth. Trapped in a deadly confrontation, he beat his dad to death with a rolling pin, at the age of 16.

It’s safe to say Charlotte subsisted at the hub of German counterculture. Doug wright treats her with respect in this one-man show, never depicting her as an eccentric little dowager or volatile harridan. She ran a small museum that featured household items from a time in German history that was long gone. The Grunderzeit. She acquired many objects and items left over from the expulsion of the Jews, though she was definitely not Antisemitic. She loved listening to music but never owned a television. She ran what might be described as a queer bar and dance club, from the basement of the mansion where the museum was housed. Esteemed artists, writers, gays, lesbians and other bohemians gravitated to Charlotte’s notorious hotspot.

Wright takes a risk by exploring Charlotte’s moral ambivalence. She was revered by many for her unapologetic queer values but condemned by others for accusations of collaborating with secret police. I Am My Own Wife makes it clear that Charlotte’s “degeneracy” put her at risk with totalitarian rule and subsequently, a perfect candidate for cooperation. On the other hand, by presenting an unresolved quandary, and details of a phenomenal, genteel, yet fierce human being, Wright does her justice, despite her flaws. Considering her excruciating ordeals, Charlotte persevered where many of us might have crumbled.

Ashley Puckett Gonzales directs Bob Hess in this demanding performance. He portrays Charlotte, the playwright, the playwright’s best friend, the cousin… et al. The range and depth of Hess’ emotional expression is remarkable. Nuanced yet emphatic, sublime yet stricken, Hess is gripping and touching in a role that isn’t histrionic; he submerges us in a life of a tacit desperation. Hess creates a lady of unorthodox valor, who doesn’t grasp her own heroism, but sees her choices (for good or ill) as simple pragmatism. Mr. Hess brings an exquisite, exhilarating ear to language that made Charlotte Von Mahlsdorf who she was. There’s no judgment or bias, but the brilliance of an actor who gives himself over to painful radiance.

Here’s how to watch: 1. I Am My Own Wife will be available for streaming via video on demand between July 16 – August 2. 2. To watch, simply purchase a ticket on our website for this on demand event. You will receive a link and code by email within 24 hours that you can use to access the video at your leisure, at any time during the run dates. 3. Questions? More information is available on our website here.

info@watertowertheatre.org

www.watertowertheatre.org

972.450.6232.

Matt Cox’s Puffs, is a smart, whimsical spoof on J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series. It follows the lives of the key characters: Harry, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley (by different names) and their adventures at Hogwarts. Hogwarts is a private school for witches and wizards. Clearly this saga goes far too long to fit into a traditional play, so it’s basically a gloss. Hogwarts engages many of the same customs as a traditional British Private School, different houses that compete, yearly exams, and regular sporting events. At Hogwarts it’s Qidditch, with two teams facing off on broomsticks.

It emerges right away that the members of the Puffs House include Harry, Hermione, Ron, and a band of assorted underdogs. This is the premise from which Cox fashions his satire on the tropes and familiar plot devices of Potter’s odyssey. Cox avoids what might be considered cheap shots at Potter and his misfits. They’re never depicted as losers or nebbishes, but rather, good-hearted teens who can’t catch a break. Puffs plays like sketch comedy, taking occasional excursions into the unlikely, the same way we laugh when Sue Ann Niven rotates on a circular bed, beneath a mirrored ceiling. Cox takes sweet-natured jibes at the various characters We may laugh at the villains, but never our hero(es). It’s like the send-ups they used to write for Mad Magazine. Cursory in the best sense of the word. Whatever the jokes were, you couldn’t take them too seriously. Whether their target was The Sound of Music, Mod Squad or Dragnet, first last and always, it was about the gags.

Directors Kyle Igneczi and Ashley White handle the merriment with skill and agility. Episodes and bits move at a brisk pace, orchestrating punchlines, blackouts and rejoinders with aplomb. The multitudinous cast (Billy Betsill, Micah JL Brooks, Savannah Elayyach, Alli Franken, Edna Gill, Nick Haley, Damian Gomez, Madeline Morris, Taylor Staniforth, Juliette Talley, Aaron White, Mark Oristano) is nimble and poised as a bus filled with zippy gymnasts. Or a barrel full of convivial ferrets.

Puffs is a clever show, with lots to tickle aficionados of Harry Potter, the orphan kept in a pantry by his Aunt and Uncle, beaten down until he discovers he has remarkable, supernatural gifts, and parents who died, saving his life. In every volume he does his time as a pariah, going from champion to the object of scorn. Cox takes the story of a lonely boy, who goes on to forge amazing, lifelong friendships (but not without adversity) and gives us gobs of amusement and glee.

IMPRINT Theatreworks staged Puffs in January 2020. www.Imprinttheatreworks.org

Matt Cox’s Puffs, is a smart, whimsical spoof on J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series. It follows the lives of the key characters: Harry, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley (by different names) and their adventures at Hogwarts. Hogwarts is a private school for witches and wizards. Clearly this saga goes far too long to fit into a traditional play, so it’s basically a gloss. Hogwarts engages many of the same customs as a traditional British Private School, different houses that compete, yearly exams, and regular sporting events. At Hogwarts it’s Qidditch, with two teams facing off on broomsticks.

It emerges right away that the members of the Puffs House include Harry, Hermione, Ron, and a band of assorted underdogs. This is the premise from which Cox fashions his satire on the tropes and familiar plot devices of Potter’s odyssey. Cox avoids what might be considered cheap shots at Potter and his misfits. They’re never depicted as losers or nebbishes, but rather, good-hearted teens who can’t catch a break. Puffs plays like sketch comedy, taking occasional excursions into the unlikely, the same way we laugh when Sue Ann Niven rotates on a circular bed, beneath a mirrored ceiling. Cox takes sweet-natured jibes at the various characters We may laugh at the villains, but never our hero(es). It’s like the send-ups they used to write for Mad Magazine. Cursory in the best sense of the word. Whatever the jokes were, you couldn’t take them too seriously. Whether their target was The Sound of Music, Mod Squad or Dragnet, first last and always, it was about the gags.

Directors Kyle Igneczi and Ashley White handle the merriment with skill and agility. Episodes and bits move at a brisk pace, orchestrating punchlines, blackouts and rejoinders with aplomb. The multitudinous cast (Billy Betsill, Micah JL Brooks, Savannah Elayyach, Alli Franken, Edna Gill, Nick Haley, Damian Gomez, Madeline Morris, Taylor Staniforth, Juliette Talley, Aaron White, Mark Oristano) is nimble and poised as a bus filled with zippy gymnasts. Or a barrel full of convivial ferrets.

Puffs is a clever show, with lots to tickle aficionados of Harry Potter, the orphan kept in a pantry by his Aunt and Uncle, beaten down until he discovers he has remarkable, supernatural gifts, and parents who died, saving his life. In every volume he does his time as a pariah, going from champion to the object of scorn. Cox takes the story of a lonely boy, who goes on to forge amazing, lifelong friendships (but not without adversity) and gives us gobs of amusement and glee.

IMPRINT Theatreworks staged Puffs in January 2020. www.Imprinttheatreworks.org