THE THEATER MIRROR, New England's LIVE Theater Guide
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These are my choices for the Best of Boston Theatre for 2001. Actually, saying “Best” means preferring one and slighting others, so I have selected the following people/productions as “Memorable” instead; everyone’s a winner here. Much of what I’ve seen this past year has been off the beaten track (finances as much as curiosity dictating my choices), so while there are few Big Shows (and only one “road” production) on my list, there were still many riches to be discovered and enjoyed.
Those passages in quotes come from my own reviews to be found in this web site.
Read on!
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PRODUCTIONS:
EDWARD II by Christopher Marlowe. Directed by Patrick Wang. (Pet Brick Productions, Tremont Theatre, Boston, MA) A good, old-fashioned Classics Illustrated production (well-edited), done in period (aside from a few voiceovers which clouded the action, including, of all things, Gaveston’s death), with robust acting and declaiming that ranged from adequate to excellent.
THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST by Oscar Wilde. Directed by Matthew Oliva and Juliet Cunningham. (The Theatre on the Hill, Boston, MA) A beautifully designed and impeccably acted production in true Brit fashion, but lacking that Certain Something to bring it all to life, which Marion Leeds Carroll – in her own way – supplied. (See below.) And it played for only one weekend.
ROMEO AND JULIET by William Shakespeare. (Tufts University, Medford, MA). “…directed by Anthony Cornish in ‘a traditional Renaissance production with no gimmicks’. And, by God, Mr. Cornish's production delivers the goods – tights and farthingales, hand-to-hand combat using both rapier AND dagger, a cleverly staged Balcony Scene (this is theatre in the round, remember) – and is performed by a student cast who if not drunk on Shakespeare's poetry is at least giddy from it – and that giddiness is infectious.”
SWIMMING IN MARCH by Kate Robin. Directed by Rebecca Bayla Taichman. (The Market Theater, Cambridge, MA). I was in a daze for days after seeing this retelling of the expressionistic WOZZECK, and the laurels go to Director Taichman (yes! a DIRECTOR!) and her design team for weaving actors, video, light and sound into a tone poem from what is essentially a dreary little tale of madness and death. Ms. Taichman & Co. created a wondrous Machine – that’s how I can only describe it – one with so strong a vision that even some less-than-ideal members of the cast came off as brilliant. And this production had one of the most beautiful and terrifying murders ever staged: anti-hero Louis’ drowning-by-baptism of his wife Marie in the waters of Coney Island, done as a pantomime that had me gripping the arms of my chair in white-knuckled fashion – an experience that can only exist on a stage; never on a screen with real water.
And a nod to:
THE LADY WITH THE PET DOG, adapted from a story by Anton Chekhov. Directed by Dan Milstein. (Rough & Tumble Theatre, Boston Center for the Arts, Boston, MA). A clever little adaptation, cinematic in its flow of plot and characters on a nearly bare stage, but saddled with actors who – in voice, movement, and just plain Acting 101 skills – could not do justice to it.
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MEMORABLE PERFORMANCES:
Saheem Ali (THE TEMPEST by William Shakespeare. NU Theatre Department, Boston, MA). Role: Caliban. “His Deformed Slave is all the more magical for being grounded in reality (if you ever meet a unicorn, I doubt it would be acting like one). His costume? [V]ery little: a pair of furry shorts to cover his loins, and streaks of green makeup on his face, arms and back – that is all. Try doing his Caliban Walk: with your left arm, cradle against you a good-sized rock or other bulky object. Crouch down on your haunches. Put your right hand on the ground and lean forward, putting all of your weight on that hand. Still in a crouching position, quickly and nimbly propel yourself forward in pole vaulter fashion – left foot, right foot – without making a sound when you land. Now, perform this Walk over and over throughout your scenes, making it seem both natural and effortless – all the while saying your lines smoothly as if standing still – and you will appreciate Mr. Ali's achievement. (There is one hair-raising moment when Caliban rises on his haunches in defiance; an image to give even Dr. Moreau pause.) Had he moved only half as well, Mr. Ali's bass voice would still convey Caliban's malignity – growls and roars from the back of a very dark cave.”
David Blais (THE TEMPEST by William Shakespeare. NU Theatre Department, Boston, MA). Role: Ariel. “Think of wind; think of flame; think of moonlight on water – David Blais' Ariel is all of these. How is he costumed? Quite simply: he wears a white leotard and is barefoot. His face and limbs are mime white; his eyes and hair, ice blue. Though Mr. Blais' torso is muscular, he moves lightly, and he dances even in repose. The effect is cold and unearthly; when you watch this Ariel watching others, you see a Creature sans heart who will never understand these warm mortals that he serves or torments.”
Jim Butterfield (TWELFTH NIGHT by William Shakespeare. Commonwealth Shakespeare Company, The Boston Commons, MA). Roles: The Sea Captain; The Priest. Thomas Derrah as Malvolio may have stolen what little was worth stealing in this production caught between Camelot and 60s Counterculture, but Mr. Butterfield’s two appearances (bookends, if you will) gave a hint of What Could Have Been, for (1) Mr. Butterfield is a good, reliable Supporting Actor (a gravelly voice but with its own music) and (2) his director allowed him two conventional portrayals; as a result, this rough diamond shone amidst the rhinestones.
Marion Leeds Carroll (THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST by Oscar Wilde. The Theatre on the Hill, Boston, MA). Role: Cecily. “When [Ms. Carroll] first entered, I thought she was playing Miss Prism. When I realized she was the Cecily, I thought: no; this cannot be. Ms. Carroll is at the age called Questionable and has a "character" face; why in the world was she cast as Mr. Worthing's pert, pretty 17-year-old ward? … No matter: as Ms. Carroll began daintily picking her way through Cecily like a baby bull stepping into a china shop, I started to smile and the smile became a grin and then I began to bubble inside as if I were filled with bicarb … [E]ven a blind man would declare Ms. Carroll to be miscast as Cecily. And yet, by playing her part in tune with the others, Ms. Carroll became truly hilarious not only as a parody of the Ingenue, but by sending up everything that her fellow actors spent Act One in setting down. Something HAPPENED whenever Ms. Carroll re-appeared, and she gave this beautifully embalmed production continuous needle jabs to keep its heart beating. ... May the T. on the H. soon revive this production, and retain Ms. Carroll's services, for I cannot remember when I have enjoyed a performance so much, albeit for the wrong reasons.”
Brandy Evans (AS YOU LIKE IT by William Shakespeare. MIT Shakespeare Ensemble, Cambridge, MA). Role: Audrey. Booby Audrey is only onstage for a few brief scenes, but big, buxom Ms. Evans (scratching her thighs from God knows what) got her laughs simply by playing Audrey as written – a not-too-bright country wench who hasn’t a clue beyond what she cannot milk or shear – and without condensation or a feminist slant. Robert Crumb, no doubt, would have been in love….
Eliza Rose Fichter (ONE FLEA SPARE by Naomi Wallace. New Repertory Theatre, Newton Highlands, MA). Role: Morse. An astonishing little actress – though a bit of a bully a la Margaret O’Brien – who was utterly convincing as a 17th century child surviving by her wits in plague-ridden London, and she certainly kept her elders on their toes. Some of Morse’s scenes are quite startling for our times, but Ms. Fichter played them unflinchingly, though I wonder how her director guided her along: “Now, Liza, this man wants to suck your big toe. Don’t ask why; he just does.” “Yes, dear: you really do kill this woman. Now, just stick the knife into her ribcage as if she’s an apple.”
Kent French (EDWARD II by Christopher Marlowe. Pet Brick Productions, The Tremont Theatre, Boston, MA). Role: Mortimer. A handsome Lancelot-like exterior peeled away to reveal a cold, manipulative man using political revenge to further/justify his own vaulting ambition. Mr. French’s training as a singer made him one of the clearest-speaking, musical declaimers of blank verse to be heard in some time.
Gio Gaynor (ROMEO AND JULIET by William Shakespeare. Tufts University, Medford, MA). Role: Mercutio. “…a good-natured chatterbox, full of nimble jests and footwork; a friend both flippant and devoted. … Whenever this Mercutio is onstage, you'd swear this ROMEO can be no tragedy, and when he dies, he takes all laughter with him.”
Dan Hinkle (KING LEAR by William Shakespeare. Ubiquity Theatre, Massachusetts College of the Arts, Boston, MA). Role: Edmund. “In addition to Ms. Larsen [see below], Dan Minkle stands out as the bastard Edmund, oily and charming, and in his final scene he uses his chest tones to frightening effect. I look forward to more of his Shakespeare in the future – and may he not play only the villains.”
Melissa Holman (ROMEO AND JULIET by William Shakespeare. Tufts University, Medford, MA). Role: The Nurse. “…[Ms.] Holman is simply wonderful as the warm, loving Nurse (not overly bawdy, either) – may Ms. Holman keep this role in her repertoire for the rest of her acting career; she was born to it.”
Birgit Huppuch (EDWARD II by Christopher Marlowe. Pet Brick Productions, The Tremont Theatre, Boston, MA). Role: Queen Isabella. Spurned by her king and husband, Ms. Huppuch’s anguished Isabella seemed to lower her body temperature scene by scene until she became a veritable Snow Queen; you’d swear ice crystals glinted on her by play’s end.
Jeremiah Kissel (THREE FARCES AND A FUNERAL, adapted/written by Robert Brustein from plays, letters and diaries of Anton Chekhov. American Repertory Theatre, Cambridge, MA). Roles: Ivan Lomav; Anton Chekhov. Mr. Kissel continues to amaze me with each rare performance that he gives, redesigning himself physically as well as vocally; this time around, he made gold bricks out of fake straw in this entertainment meant to honor Chekhov but ending up burying him instead (the farce/funeral concept proved to be prophetic). Here Mr. Kissel was the perfect trembling Fool Who Came A-Courting in “The Proposal” and a warm and weary Chekhov both in love and, in an original work “Chekhov on Ice”, in death. (I know this production opened in December, but I saw it in January, so NYAH!)
Gwen Larsen (KING LEAR by William Shakespeare. Ubiquity Theatre, Massachusetts College of the Arts, Boston, MA). Role: The Fool. “With each new production of KING LEAR, I wonder: what sort of social misfit shall we be handed? … Happily, Ubiquity Stage's KING LEAR gives us a motley Fool in the Elizabethan tradition, with no explanation necessary – a Fool was part of any royal household – and gloriously played by Gwen Larsen (who doubles as a silver-voiced Cordelia). My thanks to director Richard Girardi for permitting this Fool to happen and to Ms. Larsen for being blessed with the vocal and physical ability to pull it off; for once, the Fool's riddles and jokes make sense to me – and they're comic, too. With this Fool at Lear's side, we are safely (!) in medieval England, not on Mars or wherever the winds may blow a director's fancy. “
Laura Latreille (SIN by Wendy MacLeod. Coyote Theatre, Boston Center for The Arts, Boston, MA). Role: Avery. Ms. Latreille’s Avery introduced this modern-day morality tale by appearing among us in a spotlight and I thought, what a wonderful heroine – cool, poised and intelligent – to guide us through the nightmare of Los Angeles in the late 80s. But by Act Two, I was shocked and saddened when our Avery was revealed to have far more personal problems than all of the other characters combined (each character personifying one of the Seven Deadly Sins). But Ms. Latreille’s first half of Avery was so engaging that I gladly followed along, even though she abandoned me after the L. A. earthquake hit.
Laura Latreille (BASH by Neil Labute. Coyote Theatre, Boston Center for The Arts, Boston, MA). Role: Woman in “Medea Redux”. A table. A chair. A recording device. After a moment, a woman enters, sits and lights up a cigarette. Her hair is pulled back, she wears no make-up and is dressed in what appears to be institutional clothing. The woman begins to talk in a flat, lower-class voice, telling of her being seduced, impregnated and abandoned by one of her former teachers. Gradually we realize this Woman is in jail, recording her testimony about her murdering their teen-age son in revenge (influenced by the Medea legend) – and performed with dull, matter-of-factness by Ms. Latreille so that the horror has already crept up and is all over you before you can look away or stop listening. Truly the banality of evil: there are no villains here, but anyone can murder.
Laura Latreille (SHEL’S SHORTS: SIGNS OF TROUBLE by Shel Silverstein. The Market Theater, Cambridge, MA). Role: BJ in “Gone to Take a….” “The scene is a cosmetics counter in a department store. To the buttoned-up horror of BJ (Ms. Latreille), her punk assistant Annette … announces she must answer the Call of Nature by displaying a "Gone To Take a Shit" sign on the counter. The two lock horns over what is proper/improper, causing the repressed BJ to explode in a scatological tirade both disturbing and liberating to witness – and HILARIOUS as all get out. Truly. NO SHIT.”
Laura Napoli (THE LARAMIE PROJECT by Moises Kaufman and Tectonic Theater Project. Boston Theatre Works, Tremont Theatre, Boston, MA). Various Roles. “…[Ms. Napoli] is most affecting as the young man who found [Matthew] Shepherd tied to that fence (and at first mistook him for a scarecrow). With her hair tucked into a baseball cap and her hands stuffed into her pockets, Ms. Napoli beautifully conveys the flat-footed (and voiced) awkwardness of a small-town youth not only struggling to comprehend the role that Fate has cast him in, but also – for the first time in his life – learning to be eloquent in public.”
Brad Peloquin (MOBY DICK by Doug Katsaros and Mark St. Germain. New Repertory Theatre, Newton Highlands, MA). Role: Captain of the Rachel. As a playwright, one of my rules is to never write a character unless I feel comfortable playing him/her myself; I write “actor-friendly” plays. Can Messrs. Katsaros and St. Germain sing everything that they wrote for their pop opera version of Melville’s book – and in one performance? I doubt it. Their MOBY DICK was one long string of punched-up Big Numbers (and non-melodic ones at that), causing many of its singers to strain, bellow or scream (the poor child who played Pip, in particular). But late in Act Two, Brad Peloquin climbed up a rope ladder to sing the Captain of the Rachel’s aria about a missing lad at sea, and his beautiful, lyric tenor was a blessed harbor in the midst of this aural storm. No doubt Mr. Peloquin’s stocky build kept him from being cast as Ishmael, which is too bad: his Ishmael was certainly there; in voice, if not in body. When you start crossing from musical comedy into opera, there are times when the ear should do the casting, not the eye.
Amy Shea (OUR TOWN by Thornton Wilder. The Theatre at Old South, Boston, MA). Role: Emily. “…as a terribly bright teenager, a young woman falling in love with the boy next door, and a radiant ghost, Ms. Shea was enchanting in both voice and movement (is she a dancer, I wonder?). … [T]he biggest pleasure (and nostalgia) for me in this TOWN was watching Ms. Shea come off as convincingly, touchingly virginal. No small feat in this Age of Britney Spears.”
Dash Vata (MADAME EX by Ryan Landry. The Gold Dust Orphans, Machine, Boston, MA). Role: Dr. Prynne. “…the hawklike, raven-haired Mr. Vata is so much the [female] Victorian icon that someone must/should whip up a passionate vehicle for him – THE BITCH OF BLACKBIRD POND? YES, MINISTER ABBY? WITHERING TIGHTS? THE FRENCH LEFT-HANDED WOMAN?”
Patrick Zeller (EDWARD II by Christopher Marlowe. Pet Brick Productions, The Tremont Theatre, Boston, MA). Role: Lightborn. Mr. Zeller made a rather goofy Gaveston – all that fuss over nothing – but he came back brilliantly as Edward’s murderer, Lightborn (turning the tables, if you know the way Edward is murdered!). The costume, the bowl-cut wig, the bit of imperial on his chin – you knew his vocation at a glance. And Mr. Zeller played Lightborn with a fascinating mixture of menace, cringing and gallows humor. Murder as Business. A King is as easy to kill as a Fly.
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DESIGN:
Richard Chambers (sets) and Daniel Meeker (lighting): THE WEIR by Conor McPherson. (New Repertory Theatre, Newton Highlands, MA). A highly atmospheric country tavern, out there in the wild Irish landscape. The type of tavern where you swig a pint and swap ghost stories – and where even a few ghosts may join you. (Unfortunately, for this play, no ghosts ever did.)
Juliet Cunningham, Jean Pemper, Anne Rhodes and Pam Mussett (costumes): THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST by Oscar Wilde. (The Theatre on the Hill, Boston, MA). Whether they were created from scratch or begged/borrowed/stolen, these Edwardian costumes were lavish, accurate and eye-catching and all whipped up for a production that lasted the length of three generations of May flies.
Kristin Glans (costumes): ROMEO AND JULIET by William Shakespeare. (Tufts University, Medford, MA). Simple, efficient Elizabethan dress, not calling attention in and of itself, and worn by a student cast without apology or awkwardness.
John Malinowski (lighting): TWELFTH NIGHT by William Shakespeare. (Commonwealth Shakespeare Company, The Boston Commons, MA). “…[a] lovely lighting design, hampered only by its having to wait for the stage crew to wheel in a jukebox, cacti, and other Shakespearean props between scenes. “
Sean McIntosh (sets): OLD TIMES by Harold Pinter. (The Theatre Cooperative, Somerville, MA). When working with a shoestring budget, a designer’s trick is to make a spare setting look as if that is what he/she had envisioned all along, and here Mr. McIntosh did wonders with a few pieces of furniture and a solitary window seemingly suspended in space.
Amanda Mujica (costumes): EDWARD II by Christopher Marlowe. (Pet Brick Productions, Tremont Theatre, Boston, MA). A low budget can be a designer’s blessing in disguise, when forced to use more imagination than fabric. As with Ms. Glans’ work for the Tuft’s ROMEO, here were clever period costumes on the cheap, evoking medieval England without once raising the specter of MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL. But I swear that some of EDWARD’s wigs and beards were passed among the actors between entrances and exits.
Caleb Wertenbaker (sets) and Tal Yarden (lighting) (SWIMMING IN MARCH by Kate Robin. The Market Theater, Cambridge, MA). An almost bare, two-level stage gave way to unending layers of television screens, video clips and a seductive wall of sound, all designed to suck you in like a pig going down a python’s throat. Unforgettable.
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MOMENTS (Good, Bad and Otherwise):
CITY PREACHER by Ed Bullins. (ActRoxbury, The BCA Theater, Boston, MA). The male lead’s father – a preacher – has suffered a stroke and is on his deathbed, paralyzed from the neck down. After a moving scene between father and son, the scene ends and goes into half-light. The actor playing the father suddenly rises, gathers up his bedding and beats a hasty retreat. Could Lazarus ever top that?
CORIOLANUS by William Shakespeare. (Shakespeare & Co., Lenox, MA). The statuary scene with two minor characters dusting members of the cast posing on pedestals as marble images of themselves. An amusing little scene invented for this rather grim play, but the interaction between humans and marbles upstaged the dialogue. It would have worked better as a pantomime sans dialogue, inserted where a good laugh was needed.
EDWARD II (Pet Brick Productions, Tremont Theatre, Boston, MA). As much as I enjoyed this production (twice), I must admit that the Battle Scene in Act One did give me the giggles, especially when performed in near-balletic fashion: CLANG! BASH! CLANG! Retire gracefully, at a run! (Repeat.) But EDWARD also boasted a lovely all-male masque (not in the original script) for Edward’s – and the audience’s – pleasure.
KING LEAR by William Shakespeare. (Ubiquity Theatre, Massachusetts College of the Arts, Boston, MA). “I hope that the most beautiful image in this production will be photographed and thus preserved: Lear, sitting glumly with head in chin, looking out at the audience, and with the Fool beside him, tenderly mocking in imitation. The image lasts but an instant but is indelible.”
MACBETH by William Shakespeare. (The Industrial Theatre, Cambridge, MA). The OMG Moment of the Year: Duncan has been discovered murdered in his bed. And the Streisand-like Lady Macbeth, all elbows and knees, comes barreling out of nowhere in white silk pajamas, as if she’s missed a sale at Filene’s. And the idea of blood in HER castle?!?!? Ee-YEW! This image goes on the shelf next to the dumb-blonde gum-chewing Player Queen of the Huntington’s HAMLET six, seven years ago.
MADAME EX by Ryan Landry. (The Gold Dust Orphans, Machine, Boston, MA). “Granted, Holly [Mr. Ryan’s character] is a Victim from Square One and there isn't much for Mr. Landry to do other than suffer (and hit the ground like a 2 x 4); in Act Two, however, he takes back the stage with a knockout rendition of ‘One for My Baby (and One More for the Road)’ and becomes both embodiment and parody of world-weary chanteuses everywhere.” … “Throw in, for good measure, giant tap-dancing ‘X’ pills; spinning newspaper headlines; sex in the bushes ("What came over me?"); a Boston swan boat; slides of the Big Dig; the White House and the Vatican being relocated to Worcester; an on-screen cameo from a local TV critic; a crushed Christmas angel (whose second appearance provides one of the evening's biggest laughs); a surprise guest witness at the murder trial [“Batgirl”]; the clink of beer bottles [in the audience] – well, what are you waiting for?”
MAMMA MIA! by Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus. (The Colonial Theatre, Boston, MA). The wonderful finale/curtain call, when the leads returned in tacky/glitzy 1970s outfits to sing encores of “Mamma Mia!”, “Dancing Queen” and – as a bonus – “Waterloo”. If you didn’t clap during the show itself, you did so here – and while standing and cheering, too. I certainly did.
ROMEO AND JULIET by William Shakespeare. (Tufts University, Medford, MA). Nicole Frattaroli's Juliet lying in drugged sleep for a good half hour in full view of an arena audience, not moving a muscle – maybe not even breathing? I was told later that Ms. Frattaroli had been suffering from a cold which caused her to cough during a crucial scene with the Nurse; my baseball cap’s off to Ms. Frattaroli for whatever she did to NOT cough while feigning death.
SHEAR MADNESS (Charles Playhouse, Boston, MA). The Bit with the Pearls: “Oooo….NICE!”
SHEL’S SHORTS: SIGNS OF TROUBLE by Shel Silverstein. (The Market Theater, Cambridge, MA). Marin Ireland, in a fluorescent child’s dress, reciting “Sahra Cynthia Sylvia Stout Would Not Take the Garbage Out”.
SWIMMING IN MARCH by Kate Robin. Directed by Rebecca Bayla Taichman. (The Market Theater, Cambridge, MA). The Rain Scene, done entirely with video and sound, proving that just about anything can be done on a stage.
THE TEMPEST by William Shakespeare. (Boston University, Boston, MA). “As costumed and performed, [Lauren] Hatcher's Caliban was CATS' Grizabella on a Bad Fur Day – but she had a lovely moment with her "isle is full of noises" speech where her face relaxed and her voice softened, and for an instant I gazed upon a hearty, attractive actress hard pressed in playing a Grotesque. The image lasted for the length of her speech, but it made me want to see what Ms. Hatcher can do with other roles – and with other directors.”
TWELFTH NIGHT by William Shakespeare. (The Commonwealth Shakespeare Company, The Boston Commons, Boston, MA). When it comes to outdoor theatre, Mother Nature can sometimes add to a production as a designer (say, a lovely sunset) or as a critic (opening the heavens and drenching everything). Here, when Orsino realized that he may be falling for Viola/Cesario and approached her/him, a sudden wind filled out his pink outer garment, billowing him into a symbol of romance/desire or a protective wing for the orphan to hide under. Thank you, M. N.