Author: christophersoden@sbcglobal.net

Charlie Baker’s marriage is a bit wobbly and so his old army buddy, Froggy Lu Seur, treats him to a vacation at a fishing lodge, and some respite from his troubles. The lodge is run by Betty, a sweet widow who dotes on everyone, and a longtime friend of Froggy’s. Catherine Simms lives at the lodge with her grown brother Ellard, who’s a bit slow. Catherine is engaged to The Reverend David Lee, whose intentions are not all that they appear. David is secretly friends with Owen, a toxic, unbalanced Klansman. David and Owen know that Betty could lose the lodge if crucial repairs aren’t made, and want to appropriate the lodge for their own nefarious purposes.

Charlie begs Froggy not to leave him at the lodge. He’s despondent and not interested in making new friends. He simply wishes to keep his own counsel. Froggy (in a stroke of genius) tells Betty Charlie’s “a foreigner” and can’t speak a word of English. Charlie isn’t crazy about this scheme, but he’s stuck with it. Initially, the others perceive him as a curiosity, more or less testing to see if he’s truly unable to communicate. But it’s easy enough for Charlie to fake, he’s not feeling especially gregarious.

Then a strange thing happens. As Betty, Catherine, Ellard, David and Owen attempt simple conversation with Charlie, he intuitively responds, in the context of his new guise. Knowing that he can neither repeat nor comprehend what they say, they open up in ways that can’t to each other. Like Singer in The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, Charlie becomes what each one needs. Unlike Carson McCullers, playwright Larry Shue weaves his narrative for humor and irony. Suddenly, the husband whose wife finds him boring, blossoms from his predicament. When Charlie is no longer himself, he finds all kinds of internal resources at his disposal.

Larry Shue takes an interesting approach to The Foreigner. He takes content that could easily be the stuff of catastrophe (infidelity, terrorism, hate crimes, larceny) and gives them a humorous slant. Charlie’s wife doesn’t hide her affairs, she’s actually quite nonchalant about them. When Charlie takes Ellard under his wing, he’s no longer the object of pity, his self- esteem increases exponentially. Over and again we grasp the wisdom of dealing with adversity by refusing to see it as cosmic rejection.

The cast (Nik Braswell, Joe Cucinotti, Robert Long, Sylvia C. Luedtke, Shay McDonald, Maxim Overton, Stephen Witkowicz, Caroline Ceolin, Josh Taylor) is consistently inspired, dedicated, convincing and gifted with amazing comic chops. Their timing is impeccable, their poise unmistakable, they bring gobs of energy, panache and warmth to the stage. The Foreigner is a splendid evening of hilarious, sly, intelligent theatre.

Pocket Sandwich Theatre presents The Foreigner, playing August 24th-September 22^nd, 2018. 5400 E Mockingbird Ln Ste 119, Dallas, Texas 75206. 214-821-1860. www.pocketsandwich.com.

Benjamin is a child born not long before the AIDS Epidemic. They diagnose him with hemophilia, when he is still a baby. Hemophiliacs lack the clotting factor, resulting in extreme hemorrhaging. The worst danger lies in internal bruising and bleeding. Hemophilia is more prevalent in boys than girls; one of the most famous cases was Alexander, the son of Alexandria and Nicholas Romanov, the last Tsar of Russia. Benjamin uses a medicine amalgamated from blood donations, and subsequently is afflicted by the HIV virus. All this before he reaches the age of 8.

When The Yellow Boat opens we bear witness to how idyllic Benjamin’s life is. He is but a wee lad, but his parents nourish him on all fronts. He’s encouraged to play, laugh, create, imagine and embrace new horizons. They correct, but never squelch. They persuade, but never strong-arm. The Yellow Boat becomes a metaphor for hope and adventure, and a world where only good succeeds. Playwright David Saar is quite perceptive in tempering his depiction of Benjamin and his folks. They are warm and sweet-natured, but down to earth. Benjamin himself is eminently likable but never crosses the line into preciousness or spunk. When one of his buddies informs him that a girl is fond of him, he is less than enthusiastic.

There is something truly miraculous about The Yellow Boat, beyond the way it finds moments of genuine mirth in the midst of overwhelming sadness. Which is certainly remarkable enough. The first rule of tragedy is : never stack the deck. If the situation is bleak, let the content speak for itself. Saar, director Taylor Owen, and the cast and crew, et al, have immersed us in this emotionally charged experience, without holding us hostage to the intense grief that is almost inevitable. They include us, (and yes, tears are definitely in the mix) but respect us enough to honor our humanity without exploiting it. We come away with deep appreciation for Benjamin’s parents, who were always honest with him, even when it was more tempting to sugarcoat. Theatre is so much about chemistry. So much about intuition. So much about tone. It feels odd to say The Yellow Boat was in many ways a joyful drama, but it doesn’t wring you out. We get a true sense of Benjamin’s zeal for living, the doors he opened for everyone he met.

Resolute Theatre Project presents The Yellow Boat, playing September 7th-16th, 2018. Amy’s Studio of Performing Arts, 11888 Marsh Lane, Suite 600, Dallas, Texas 75234. 972-484-7900. www.resolutetheatreproject.com

Perhaps we must read Adrienne Rich or Andrea Dworkin or Alice Walker to realize how pervasively degrading, angry and punitive attitudes towards women persist. We don’t notice because we’re submerged from the onset. We don’t think to look for it. Once I honked to wave at a friend of mine (walking by herself) to get her attention. It never occurred to me she might have had ugly experiences from strangers. I was woke. The differences in our experience was made sadly, horribly clear.

When we enter the theater for Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again., the space overpowers with bright white. Everything: chairs, walls, floor, steps, is brilliant white. Illumination? Starting from scratch? Emptiness? Playwright Alice Birch takes us through scenarios that illustrate the tilted dynamics between men and women. In the first, the female sexual partner wants to take on the role as aggressor, in the next, a dedicated employee wants to have Mondays off (her boss keeps wanting to make it about her gender) in the next, a woman lies down in the grocery aisle, dress up over head, genitals exposed. She explains she’d rather capitulate to the objectification of her body, rather than have the privilege taken by force. Though not in those words. What begins as nearly comical morphs into the desolate and grotesque. Birch gives us just enough information to pique and engage us.

We might look upon Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again. as a succession of dialogues and soliloquy that examine components of what it means to be female in relation to men and other women. Perhaps an attempt at reverse indoctrination. Motherhood, for example, can be used as a kind of oppression if it’s not what a woman needs in her path to fulfillment. In a particularly heartbreaking passage we gather the grandmother/mother feels no need to claim maternity as part of her identity. Bearing children doesn’t work for all women. Women aren’t obliged to consider their destiny in terms of some debt to society.

As we might ascertain from the title, this call to arms is a somewhat cerebral anarchy. It presents situations intelligently, often with somber irony. It has a 70’s feel (appropriately enough) and its grievances are carefully, skillfully presented, with dry rage. There are slide titles, red lights, sirens, bells, culminating in a chaotic, stream-of-consciousness jeremiad, expressing intense brokenness and confusion. As a whole the show is beguiling, troubling, provocative, though perhaps not as integrated as we might hope. We arrive expecting urgency, but at the core it feels more calm.

The cast of four women and one man (Christie Vela, Jenny Ledel, Max Hartman, Lydia Mackay and Tia Laulusa) directed by Vela, are fearless and bring spontaneity and wit to this unorthodox reflection on hubris, the patriarchy, female identity and wasted purpose. The script (as discussed at the Talk Back) left much to the discretion of the venue, and STT’s Revolt felt quite authentic and poignant as they sorted out the shape, logistics and personal truths of the piece.

Second Thought Theatre presents: Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again. Playing August 22nd-September 15^th, 2018. Bryant Hall. 3636 Turtle Creek Blvd, Dallas, Texas 75219. 1-866) 811-4111. info@secondthoughttheatre.com

The deliciously demented gathering of actors, musicians, writers, techies, and directors at The Ochre House never seem to run dry when it comes to strange, stirring and marvelous ideas, often mashing ticklish hilarity with the melancholy. Written and directed by Carla Parker, Mousey happens in the bedroom of a young lady whose interest in toys is diminishing. The one she chooses to sleep with enjoys a certain status, but all in all, the toys are groping for a sense of purpose. Then Jack and his band of raucous monkeys arrive, to expose them to the possibilities of a wider cosmos. At the core of this chaos is Mrs. Mousey. She’s not as cynical the others, finding great comfort in the domestic rituals and enjoying the company of her husband: Mr. Mousey. Apart from this, she leads with an open heart, making her vulnerable and subject to manipulation.

Parker exploits the surreal quality of her vision: enormous thimble, matchbox, spool, and the humor to be found in this community of a girl’s playthings. Barb is the promiscuous Barbie Doll, Joseph the dedicated G.I. Joe, Fluffy the bohemian, stoner rabbit and Junior, a rapper suggesting Clifford the Red Dog (?). Much of the music we hear at Ochre House has the nightclub quality of ballads, torch songs and blues, and each character has their story to tell. [Please forgive My ignorance of music, if I’m mistaken.] Mrs. Mousey craves the bliss of maintaining a hearth, but her introduction to the hyperkinetic alpha monkey Jack, subversively sows the seeds of ambivalence.

Carla Parker has created a comedy that becomes a powerful examination of the archetypal assumptions that infuse our culture. Do we find our highest calling by striving for validation or giving comfort to others? Do our lives only mean something if we are loved? Is it better to seek security over the dazzling risks of adventure? Parker, in a startling, inspired, ferocious turn, ends with a kind of revelation that makes us rethink everything that came before. It seems bizarre to compare it to other shows like El Topo or Leaving Las Vegas or The Incredible Shrinking Woman or The Pillow Man; where the ache for grace and intrusion of the grotesque become something that confounds reason. Like the stigmata or The Catherine Wheel. Parker’s achievement here is sly, meticulous and stunning.

The Ochre House presents Mousey playing 18 August 2018 – 08 September 2018. 825 Exposition Avenue, Dallas, Texas 75226. 214-826-6273. www.ochrehousetheatre.org

Put simply, Uptown Players’ current production of Perfect Arrangement is a dialectic on the practice of bearding, seen through a 21^st century lens. Set in the 1950’s, it’s the story of Bob and Millie Martindale, and Jim and Norma Baxter, next door neighbors and best friends. The reality though, is that Bob and Jim are lovers, and so are Norma and Millie. The two couples have carefully constructed this sham (though fairly painless) arrangement for the sake of actually partnering with their lovers. Bob and Norma ironically work for a government agency that actively seeks out subversives: Communists, activists, “perverts”, and anyone perceived as a threat to the American way of life. When the agency sets out to expose (and ruin the lives of) employees who set off their “homosexual” radar, Bob and Norma must go along, to protect their own secrets.

Playwright Topher Payne has gone to great lengths to make his point. By placing two key characters in an agency that virulently persecutes queer employees, it begs the question of betraying other members of our community for the sake of escaping the ax. Bob digs in his heels, but Norma is deeply conflicted. If they’d both worked for a law firm, say, or an insurance agency, the question of allegiance would be a non issue. Their boss, Theodore Sunderson is chummy with Bob, who is very high on the corporate ladder. Theodore and his wife, Kitty, hobnob with the four of them, which makes them subject to scrutiny. And cunning though their next door situation may be, it also complicates matters.

All art, literature and performance is manipulative to a degree, so it’s not as if Payne’s approach is egregious. It’s to his credit that he makes plain how grotesque and absurd the predicament of being forced to play gender paradigms, for the sake of mere survival, can be. But what we must bear in mind (it seems to me) is the circumstances that led to bearding in the first place. Consider how far we’ve come to date, and yet the suicides, the hate crimes, the pastoral denunciation continues. Perhaps this is the reason for Payne’s cautionary fable. There was a time when (for example) we might see a male high school English teacher married to the Girl’s Phys-Ed coach. In the 1950’s our tribe was made painfully aware of the fact that one slip, one indiscretion, could permanently destroy their future. Cops would stake out tearooms (for Christ’s sake) and print the names of the poor souls they hauled off to jail in the newspaper, for the crime of desperately seeking sexual comfort.

I completely grasp how horribly sad it was to constantly perpetuate a farce. And it would certainly have been preferable for the members of the queer community to step out and mobilize, if they felt moved to do so. We all know those organizations existed, though often clandestinely. All this being said, it’s hard to deny that ersatz marriage could amount to a very practical arrangement. It made it possible to have some access to the sublime, without putting ourselves at risk. How could anyone, today, defend hypocrisy or living a lie? But then, American society has always been duplicitous in the extreme, when it comes to same gender sexuality. It’s not unusual for straight identified folks to “indulge” under the right circumstances, often calling their personal sexual behavior by another name.

The cast of Perfect Arrangement must jump through numerous hoops, as the tone gradually shifts from barbed satire to an urgent plea for revolution and social justice. Director B. J. Cleveland gets them safely past the hazards, while we find our bearings. The acting here is agile, precise and impressive, as the performers navigate through theatrical sleight-of-hand and prestidigitation.

Uptown Players presents Perfect Arrangement, playing August 24th-September 2^nd, 2018. Kalita Humphreys Theater. 3636 Turtle Creek Blvd, Dallas, Texas 75219. 214-219-2718. uptownplayers.org.

We are dropped into Simon Stephens’ Heisenberg just after Georgie Burns has kissed the nape of Alex Priest, thinking he was someone else. Georgie is a tantalizing, effusive widow, not always eccentric in the best sense of the word. Alex, more than thirty years older, is a gruff, if down-to-earth butcher. He’s not just hard to reach, he’s almost completely shut down. Like Georgie, he’s had to deal with his share of catastrophe and disappointment. There have, of course, been countless other plays dealing with two broken souls: I Am A Camera, Butterflies Are Free, The Odd Couple, The Gingham Dog, Birdbath. The difference in Heisenberg is that Georgie might be a pathological liar, pursuing a much older man, who can barely seem to tolerate her. If Mr. Stephens can see Alex and Georgie’s redeeming qualities, he certainly plays it close to the vest.

It’s not just that Georgie lies, we really can’t be sure if her intentions are, at least, innocuous. If Alex’s reticence hides implacable charisma, well, it’s news to us. Maybe that enigma keeps us watching. Stephens presents us with this unorthodox couple and defies us to believe in their compatibility. We’ve all heard of the couple who despite their utter lack of intersection, seem made for each other. But Heisenberg explores this idea without copping to fantasia or fancy. And certainly (in this instance) we do not know what we know, till we know it. Stephens does this without cheating or pandering. His depiction of Alex and Georgie is unblinking, yet affectionate.

Anna Ziegler’s Actually examines the night, and the day after, when Amber accuses Tom of raping her. Tom and Amber are Freshmen at an Ivy League school: frail and nervous and confused and excited and terrified. College Campuses are notorious for a faulty justice structure when it comes to dealing with sexual assault. There is jurisdictional ambiguity when it comes to involving the police, and crucial verdicts too often left in the hands of arbitrary tribunals, with little or no training. Amber makes the legitimate point that being drunk made it impossible for her to give consent. But Tom was also inebriated, and there’s no reason to think he was trying to break Amber’s resistance.

Ziegler swings contrapuntally between Tom and Amber’s dialogue, and concurrent monologues they deliver to us. They not only discuss their impressions about the event in question, but all the gender baggage American Culture imparts. Actually is a detailed mosaic- streams of thought from two vastly different, but equally valid perceptions. Ziegler understands that trauma doesn’t happen in a vacuum. She gives us context and perspective. She creates two vivid characters and never takes sides. Actually is rational, but emotional. It never exploits our feelings, or insults our intelligence. It looks squarely at a difficult subject, with grace, humanity and discretion.

Theatre 3 presents A Double Feature: Heisenberg/Actually playing August 2nd-26th, 2018. 2800 Routh Street, Suite 168, Dallas, Texas 75201. 214-871-3300. www.theatre3dallas.com.

Jason is a nearly pathologically shy teenage boy, who helps his mother Margery stage puppet shows at their Lutheran church. Margery has recently divorced Jason’s dad, and mother and son are both feeling the trauma of loss. Jessica and Timothy also help with the puppets. Jessica is low-key and disaffected, Timothy hostile and ridiculously horny. Pastor Greg is a bit sanctimonious and none too subtly hitting on Margery. Tyrone is Jason’s constant protector and companion. He is foul-mouthed, abusive, confrontational, insulting and not afraid to fight back. Tyrone is Jason’s hand puppet, though it’s not entirely certain that Jason’s in control.

Tyrone isn’t merely a puckish enfant terrible’. He’s more ferocious than Rasputin and always goes for the jugular. His verbal assaults have the element of truth, but his reactions go far beyond the demands of assertiveness. Jason tries, to no avail, to rein Tyrone in. Margery has given in to Timothy’s crass seduction techniques. Pastor Greg’s attempts to alleviate the escalating chaos have only made things worse.

Playwright Robert Askins’ Hand to God is a brilliant satire on the contemporary Christian church, and its inability to relieve the pain and confusion of adults who wish to live responsibly. It’s no secret that the world is fraught with dilemmas and excruciating decisions, so when Tyrone makes deeply troubled Jason his “host”, he gets the perfect opportunity to wreak havovc in a quaint Texas Lutheran church. Tyrone may be vile and (metaphysically speaking) bestial but his viewpoint is the way of the world. Sadly, many, many people conflate coarse, over-simplified perception with authenticity. Sometimes, when dealing with an angry, aggressive soul, calling him an “asshole” seems real, if perhaps less than gracious. Tyrone (Satanic Puppet from Hell) gains traction in Jason’s congregation, because he knows they’re suffering, and that he can fob off his rage as “truth.”

I cannot tell you how or who swoops in to save sweet Jason and the other characters in Hand to God, but suffice to say Robert Askins has fashioned a flawless satire, chock full of jaw-dropping impropriety, subversive and diabolical ruminations, and shamelessly crude hilarity. It’s closing THIS weekend so hurry over there, whycancha?

Water Tower Theatre presents Hand to God, playing August 3rd-26th, 2018. 15650 Addison Road, Addison, TX, 75001. 972-450-6232. watertowertheatre.org

To bring the rest of you up to speed, Lovely Uranus is a professional female impersonator, with sharp wit and irresistible zeal for living. She has elan for days and her outlandish drag only serves to complement her scintillating mien. She has a robust romantic life and spends ample time visiting the gay retirement home. A Lovely Goodbye is the fifth and last in Alejandro de la Costa’s “Lovely” series, following Lovely’s heartaches and triumphs, pratfalls and shining moments. We see how comparable her life is to the rest of us, losing the stigma without sacrificing magic. De la Costa shows us the practical mundane, along with glamorous.

A Lovely Goodbye finds Lovely’s erstwhile lover, Keith, moving in with her. Keith is eager to play bed blanket bingo, but something about renewing that arrangement puts her off. Then Keith brings Henry into the picture, yet another of Lovely’s romantic partners. The three manage to navigate this awkward situation without serious damage. If Keith waggles his cute, naked hiney a bit more often than he should, well, that’s just how he rolls. As we might expect from Lovely’s previous adventures, there’s no lack of sexual shenanigans and references to menage a trois, et al…. Lovely is exasperated and perplexed but never dejected.

Much to her chagrin, Lovely discovers she must deal with serious illness. Her nurse friend Roberta has been nagging her to get a lump checked. Sure enough, there’s something that requires surgery and her serious attention. Understandably, this is the last thing Lovely wishes to confront, so ironically, this fabulous, larger than life, exquisite soul is in denial. The rest of the play (please excuse my disclosure) deals with mortality and grief, but also celebrates the unimaginable strength that Lovely possesses, when needed. Even when she’s positively terrified, she still loves life enough to grope a doctor when she’s in the hospital. To the end, Lovely just brims with warmth, chutzpah and radiance.

MBS Productions presents: A Lovely Goodbye, playing July 19th-August 12^th, 2018. Stone Cottage: Addison Conference and Theatre Centre, 15650 Addison Road, Addison, TX 75001. www.MBSProductions.net. 214-477-4942.

Newton Fuller has brought his wife, Annabelle, and daughter, Madge, to see the new house he’s bought for them. A home of their own, where they can experience the exhilaration of life in the country. It’s a story older than Moses. Newton has neglected to tell his wife he’s already purchased the place. The flaws he sees as trivial, Annabelle would find highly objectionable. And who could blame her? We can’t help but appreciate Newton’s exuberance and optimism, but the place is falling apart. A wall is missing in the kitchen, there’s no water, the furniture is collapsing, and there’s a cow meandering. Clearly Newton’s enthusiasm blinded him when he signed the deed, and Annabelle is none too pleased.

Little by little, and bit by bit, the house gets more core comfy, attractive and functional. But our intrepid homesteaders aren’t out of the woods. Mr. Kimber, the caretaker, is constantly informing Newton of more purchases he must make to keep up the property (manure, gravel, cattle feed,…) and money is quickly running low. Madge (a teenager) is having an affair with the neighbor’s husband. Soon their crotchety, persnickety Uncle Stanley will be staying and the cook and housekeeper must feel like they’ve joined the staff of the Titanic.

George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart were masters at writing stage comedies that were so sharp, with clever, contrapuntal banter, that they hold up to this day. Like The Man Who Came to Dinner, Hart and Kaufman concocted a premise for George Washington Slept Here that cannot miss. As trials and travails fall upon the Newtons, the dialogue takes note with such acrid understatement, that we are helplessly, genuinely tickled. Like Job, we’ve all been there. We’ve all endured a run of bad luck, so we’re laughing with the Newtons. Under the pitch perfect guidance of B. J. Cleveland, the cast have mastered Kaufman and Hart’s tone, timing and pervasive sense of irony. George Washington Slept Here is a distinct, capacious pleasure, just the tonic for these days of oppressive heat, dejection and upheaval. Kaufman and Hart, and the grand folks at The Dupree Theatre have given us the gift of laughing at ourselves. What could be better?

Dupree Theatre presents: George Washington Slept Here, playing July 20th-August 4^th, 2018. Dupree Theatre. Irving Arts Center. 3333 N. MacArthur Blvd, Irving, Texas, 75062. (972) 594-6104. info@irvingtheatre.org

The Revolutionists finds author Olympe de Gouges in her study, surrounded by crumpled sheets of paper, as she struggles to write a powerful, relevant, political play about the French Revolution. It is 1793, we are in Paris, and the thick of the Reign of Terror. The guillotine has replaced executioners with axes (more merciful and efficient). Thousands of lives lost in a brutal war between the aristocracy and the destitute. Olympe is surprised by a visit from her close friend, Marianne Angelle, a black woman (ostensibly a slave?) who is also a spy for the Resistance. Needless to say, these are dangerous times. While Olympe is in the midst of writer’s block, Marianne tries to convince her to pen an important pamphlet for the cause. Two more visitors show up, Charlotte Corday, summoning the courage to assassinate Jean Paul Marat, and Marie Antoinette, the Queen of France and a reviled figurehead of the ruling class.

Perhaps correcting patriarchal omission, playwright Lauren Gunderson has created a fanciful intersection of historic, revolutionary heroines. Comparable to Terry Johnson’s Insignificance, Gunderson reveals unfamiliar sides of these infamous women, with plenty of humor. She brings fresh perception to the intricacies of The Reign of Terror, humanizing the characters. There’s no reason to believe they ever met, but through conversations we get a strong sense of their raw fears and misgivings, their flaws and virtues. We see Olympe’s neuroses and paranoia, Antoinette’s superciliousness and tenderness, and Charlotte’s ambivalence. We bear witness as each must steady their nerves in the face of death, defiance and excruciating loss. It’s riveting, rambunctious theatre, and if Gunderson goes on a bit long, her strengths outweigh redundancy.

IMPRINT theatreworks (the new kids on the block) have come through once again: Co-Directors Ashley H. White and Joe Messina orchestrating this whirlwind of pathos, hilarity and triumph of the spirit. It seems to spill all over the place, in the midst of these spectacular minds. Yet the progression and dialogue is clear. The women are chatty yet fierce, melancholy yet ebullient, headstrong yet despondent. The nimble, versatile and dedicated cast (Marianne Galloway, Jennifer Kuenzer, Dani Holway, Sky Williams) have the stamina of a thoroughbred and chops like you’ve never seen. Ellen Mizener’s Scenic Design is a marvel to behold: detailed, evocative, filled with warmth and rich hues. Costume Designer Jessie Wallace depicts urgency and chaos with brilliant colors that suggest an effulgent crazy quilt.

IMPRINT theatreworks presents: The Revolutionists, playing through August 4^th, 2018. The Margo Jones Theatre, 1121 1st Ave, Dallas, Texas 75210. 469-554-8025. imprinttheatreworks.org