Reviving by reading: The Madowman of Chaillot (Readers’ Ensemble Company Summer Festival 2009)

Reviewed by Rich Grey (outerstage.com)

The expression “history is written by the winners” can be interpreted for theater productions as “works that are affordable are remembered.” Encores got a hold on countless musicals teetering on the brink of obscurity and gave them life, now the Readers’ Ensemble Company does the same for straight comedies and dramas. This new group dedicates itself to finding and presenting, in de-constructed format, works that are either not done or can’t afford to be done anymore. The latter case fits their second entry in a four-play series – The Madwoman of Chaillot. We’ve all heard of this play, we may have seen it in a university setting, but when was the last time you saw a 24-character play performed on, or directly off, Broadway?

Director J. Michaels gave himself every obstacle in this Jean Giraudoux surreal comedy written as a response to World War II. A staged reading is tricky – daunting when done by two-dozen actors. He added performance elements (a dancing deaf mute, masque work – albeit very simple, and touches of modernization like a Spanish-speaking flower seller and a yuppie stock broker). His gamble paid off as the evening yielded a fine show.

The play opens in cartoon fashion with a President, Baron, Broker, and Prospector (Nick Fondulis, M. Alan Haley, John Stillwaggon, and Michaels himself, respectfully) gleefully chatting about their wealth, how to get more, and the middle and lower classes whom they disdain. Fondulis supplies us with an excellent mixture of mustache twirling villainy while keeping things real enough to make us think of every bank president across the country today, he is complimented by Haley’s confused aesthete of a baron, willing to sell his name to make money. The electricity was turned-up tenfold by Stillwaggon’s high-speed banter and game show host smile as the broker. J. Michaels added to the humor as a humorless old hermit prospector, deadpanning around the three corporate stooges.

They are greeted by the titular character, Countess Aurelia, the Madwoman of Chaillot. The casting choice was spot-on with Sheila Mart. Ms. Mart’s majestic presence in a tiny frame epitomized the character. Her staccato delivery fooled the audience by alternating between doddering and ingenuous. This allowed us to follow her down her rabbit hole (literally) to the play’s surreal conclusion.

There are also lovers (of course). The innocent, not-from-these-parts, Irma (played by Brianna Carlson-Goodman) and the repentant juvenile Pierre (Jim deProphetis). Carlson-Goodman and deProphetis played off of each other well, sharing innocence and pain, love and loss. Carlson-Goodman’s Act I monologue was a refreshing moment of clarity, while deProphetis’ scenes with Aurelia were charming and engrossing.

The financial wizards are forced to do battle with a cacophony of tradesmen and vagrants including a sassy waitress (played with great vigor by Sara Minisquero), a Latina flower seller (played in Spanish by Jessica Real-Mohr, whose gestures allowed even the most dense to understand her dialog), a lunatic foot doctor (Tracy Lipson doing her best impression of a 3 a.m. infomercial), two wacky policemen (Josh Silverman, hilarious as a new cop on the beat, and John Payne, truly funny and commanding as an old-fashioned beat cop complete with brogue) all led by an urban Ragpicker, played by Lorenzo Valoy. Valoy’s high energy and inventive delivery as the bearer of bad news in Act I and fire and brimstone channeling of all the evil of the world in Act II were high-points of the evening.

Act II brings a group of new characters. A sewer man (played with surreal joy by Robert Saunders) who thinks he’s a stand-up comic; three other madwomen: Constance (Dana A. Iannuzzi), whose choice of puppet dog over invisible dog – how it is normally played – was inspired; Gabrielle (Carla Kelly), an innocent chanteuse with an overactive libido, whose facial expressions and strange noises were a source of great humor, and the commanding Josephine (queenly played by Theresa Chow). Chow manages to make some of the play’s most absurd dialog sound totally logical.

Wide-eyed, tattered, and diminutive, teenager Adele Wendt – a trained ballerina – danced her lines (another inspired touch) as the deaf mute, adding a new dimension to this reading. Her frenetic “conversations” with Irma were a witty diversion and her Act I “ballet” (choreographed by Joyce A. Adams) became the play’s parable – the smallest flower can have the deepest soul.

Producers Dana A. Iannuzzi and Justin Flagg are to be commended for making possible a series that includes a rare George Bernard Shaw one-act (last week’s Press Cuttings), a Russian work made famous by Lon Chaney (next week’s He Who Gets Slapped) and rising star Lynn Nottage’s African-American drama, Intimate Apparel, which closes the festival. The small, warm theater chosen for the presentations might be an indication of an austere budget – a fitting parable as to why certain plays are allowed to vanish.

The festival is at University of the Streets on East 7th Street.

For more details log on to readersensemblecompany.org

Originally published at http://outerstage.com/2009/07/reviving-by-reading-the-madowman-of-chaillot-readers-ensemble-company-summer-festival-2009/

On Monday, July 27, 2009 at 7pm, I performed in a staged reading of Jean Giraudoux’s The Madwoman of Chaillot (French title La Folle de Chaillot). Today I’d like to talk a bit about the performance space, and my observations on it.

This a play is a poetic satire which Giraudoux wrote in 1943, but it was first performed in 1945, after his death.

This production was directed by Jay Michaels for the Readers Ensemble Company (REC). The REC is run by Justin Flagg and Dana A. Iannuzzi. It was performed at The University of the Streets at130 East 7th St. in New York City just off of Tompkins Square Park.

Anyhoo!

Arriving at 5:30pm I sought out the entrance to the University of the Streets.  It was a little hard to find as on the otuside it is little more than a single doorway between storefronts. I worried that audience members would have trouble locating the space. Beyond the door was a tiny lobby and a narrow old staircase that wound its way to the performance space on the second floor.

At first I passed it by. The door didn’t say “University of the Streets” on it, but I didn’t go far before backtracking and spotting a REC sign which pointed the correct way.

Upon entering I nearly collided with John Payne’s wife. John is a fellow Long Island actor whom I met in recent months. He would be playing the part of the (Police) Sergeant in this production. We exchanged greetings before continuing on our separate ways.

Beyond the entrance there was a small cramped lobby and ticket counter, then, beyond a curtain, was the performance space. Here on the second floor it made up the corner of the building overlooking Tompkins Square Park and 7th Street. There were 3 or 4 tiers of movable seats around an unraised performance area. A piano and some music stands took up a portion of the floor.About half the cast was already present.

One of the first things I noticed was the heat and humidity. It was a little uncomfortable, and was only bound to become more so as the evening progressed. A large window air conditioner was in the wall in one corner, but its effects could hardly be felt beyond the 4 seats around it. Later in the evening, before the show, two fans were positoned to circulate the air. One by the Ac, and another on the performance floor. The latter was bit noisy, and would doubtless have to be turned off during the show.

Of course, I worried about audience members dealing with the heat. The actors were here to work, and would put up with it very well, but I worried about an audience that would have to sit through an unfamiliar show. The early arrivers would obviously take the most comfortable seats near the AC, and other after them would try to take the next best spots. Then there was the possibility that during intermission people might try to take seats other than the ones they had during act one. Fortunately, everything went well in that regard. Everyone put up with the heat, and the show, being enjoyed by all, certainly helped.

War Over, Audiences Win!!!

WAR OF THE WORLDS
(The Panic Broadcast of 1938)

Adaptation by Jay Michaels
Based on original adaptation by Howard Koch, based on the Novel by H.G.Wells
Directed by Jay Michaels and Mary Elizabeth MiCari
Presented by Genesis Repertory Ensemble
Spotlight-on Productions Halloween Festival
Equity Showcase (October 22 – November 2)
Review by Alyn Hunter . . . October 30, 2002

In 1938 H.G. Wells’ novel was adapted for the radio and presented by CBS and Orson Welles’ Mercury Theatre to the listening public. In 2002 Genesis Repertory Ensemble has adapted the radio play adaptation for the stage and presented it to the viewing public. In both cases, an outstanding success.

In this stage offering, during which the Malicious Martians are again invading New Jersey and New York, we are treated not only to an actual recreation of the 1938 broadcast, but to additional material (often lifted directly from periodicals of the time) added to broaden the audience understanding of how it was received. The meticulous weaving together of these elements with the time-compressed radio script provided for a mesmeric evening of theater.

The stage was sparse and suggestive rather than truly representational. In the absence of adequate lighting, the few anachronistic elements of the set were below general notice and did not intrude on my enjoyment of the show. I thought the placing of the period-appropriate radio far downstage made for an excellent anchor for the production but, conversely, I would have loved to see microphones to anchor the actors to their “broadcast”. Further, it might have added to the atmosphere of the “airing” itself if the directors had chosen to “pipe in” the pre- and post-show broadcasts bracketing the War of the Worlds during the original airing before and after the evening’s production.

The co-directorship of War of the Worlds by Jay Michaels and Mary Elizabeth MiCari has made for a successful partnership. Whatever aspects were controlled by each individual the final product is seamless. The two directors brought the best of their actor’s skills out to play. Their decision to have Michaels (as Orson Welles) conduct the radio players through the broadcast was a good one. It lent an air of musicality to the presentation and created an underlying rhythm that might have otherwise been lost. Though the cast did not often look to Michaels, they reacted to his guidance flawlessly as if the broadcast room was circular in shape and had been bent in a cubist manner for us to see the whole of the picture at once. Certain choices could have been better thought out, however: Houseman’s office placed directly upstage of the “residence” of the woman listening to her radio created an ongoing ambiguity. Alternately, Houseman and his staff seemed to be in her living room and the woman in his office. I also question the direct impersonation of John Houseman by Robert F. Saunders. The actor has an obvious well of skill and talent at his disposal, but I found myself transported away from 1938 whenever he struck a “Houseman Pose”, raised his eyebrow over his shoulder or took a pause that would stop a Martian invasion. He, and the production, would have been better served by his creating a Housemanian character rather than the man himself.

The meat of the production, obviously, was the broadcast. It was breathtaking. I found myself smiling, laughing, forgetting to blink, awestruck by the performance’s ability (both from leads and supporting cast) to transport me to that 1938 radio station. As a radio team ensemble within the production’s ensemble, they provided a vehicle that took the audience on an engaging, pulse-quickening journey.

Several actors shine brightly against a background bright in its own right. Jay Michaels has found his groove by stepping into the very large shoes of Orson Welles. Michaels easily assumes Welles’ roles ( I recently saw him in Genesis Rep’s wonderful Faustus, as reviewed by ArtZine) and breathes life into the scripts he touches. Mary Elizabeth MiCari’s voice glitters with nuance as she glides through her monologues. I watched Derek Devereaux take his Mephistopheles (also of the aforementioned Faustus) played on 33 and a third RPM, and crank it up to a delightfully psychotic 45 for The Stranger, replete with the same maniacal laughter. Watching the reparte between he and Michaels is akin to listening to concert violinists in a musical dialogue.

The costume design by Margo La Zaro was necessarily heavily influenced by the period and circumstances of the original 1938 broadcast. Within those parameters each actors’ attire was perfectly suited for them and well-balanced for the production. I’m certain that Mary Elizabeth MiCari’s make-up and hair design were perfect as well, if she did as wonderfully as she had with GenRep’s recent Faustus. Unfortunately, the atrocious lighting robbed me of any real look at the actors.

Due to circumstances beyond Genesis Repertory’s, or Spot-Light On’s control was a shortage of lighting instruments. That being said, any lighting designer with a minimal competence in his or her craft would have made some attempt to compensate. The stark, harsh spotlighting directly above the main playing area cast massive shadows across the actor’s faces as they “read” their lines into non-existent microphones. The scenes taking place in John Houseman’s office had a well-intentioned but altogether insufficiently lit golden hue. The isolated radio at the farthest point downstage was lit entirely by spillover illumination from instruments directed elsewhere. Taken as a whole, the uncredited lighting designer created the feeling that I was watching this performance in different rooms of a mortuary.

The recorded sound effects, voiceovers, and music provided by Rob DeScherer and Philip Micari enhanced the production with high quality, excellent timing, and proper execution. I would have preferred some of the military effects at a higher volume, but overall the design and execution were right on target.

For information about Genesis Repertory Ensemble and its members, various projects and associations visit their website at www.genesisrep.org. It’s definitely worth the surf.

26 Oct 2002
Originally published at www.playbill.com

Ruth Warrick, the last surviving member of Orson Welles’ “Citizen Kane” cast, will attend the Oct. 26 performance of Genesis Repertory’s War of the World, based on the original radio broadcast which made Welles a star. The production, presented as a one-act radio drama, plays through Nov. 2 at RAW Space.

Warrick played the first Mrs. Kane in “Citizen Kane.” She is an Emmy winner for “Peyton Place” and has appeared on Broadway in Take Me Along (opposite Jackie Gleason), Pal Joey and Irene. Warrick has starred as Phoebe Tyler Wallingford on “All My Children” since the show’s inception in 1970.

War of the World’s depicts a fictional alien invasion of New Jersey and New York, but Welles’ Mercury Theatre on the Air performed it in October, 1938 as if the H.G. Wells-based drama were an actual news broadcast. The result was a panic, as listeners, believing Martians were attacking the United States, jammed phone lines and highways, trying to find out the truth – or escape. The broadcast made Welles’ name and led to his debut in Hollywood.

Jay Michaels stars as Welles. Also in the cast are Mary Elizabeth MiCari, Derek Devareux, Michael D’Antoni, Frank Rosner and Robert F. Saunders. MiCari and Michaels direct War of the Worlds.

Tickets are $15. RAW Space is located in Studio L at 543 West 42nd Street. For reservations, call (718) 932-3577. Genesis Repertory is on the web at http://www.genesisrep.org.

— By Christine Ehren

Time machine

War of the Worlds

Adapted and directed by Jay Michaels
The Genesis Repertory of Young Actors & Artists
Spotlight On Halloween Festival
Raw Space Theatre L
543 West 42nd Street
Equity showcase (closes Nov. 2)
Review by Jenny Sandman for OOBR

War of the Worlds, originally written by H.G. Wells in 1898, has had an intriguing life. The book tells the story of Martian ships landing in the British countryside. The Martians have come to take over Earth; with their lethal “heat-rays” which shoot flame, they are easily able to overtake the rural populace and lay waste to most of England. In the end, however, they are defeated by bacteria, dying of diseases against which they had no defense. It is a classic of science fiction, but it is best-known for its radio adaptation.

The 1938 radio broadcast of Orson Welles’s adaptation of War of the Worlds is infamous. On October 30, 1938, CBS presented Welles’s adaptation, updated slightly and set in (then) modern-day New Jersey. People flipping through the radio stations missed the first part of the broadcast — the disclaimer — and thousands fled their homes in terror after listening to what they thought were real news bulletins detailing the Martian invasion of New Jersey and the leveling of New York City. Proving, said Welles, the almighty power of the spoken word. The broadcast has gone down in history as one of the best Halloween pranks of all time. To help celebrate Halloween this year, The Genesis Repertory of Young Actors & Artists presented their adaptation of the radio broadcast at Raw Space.

Regardless of how exciting a radio show may be to listen to, it isn’t much to look at: a bunch of actors reading their lines in front of a microphone. To their credit, Genesis Repertory managed to make this static form visually appealing, with enough movement to keep things lively. The set was stark– a black box, some chairs, some music stands — but the actors’ voices made up for the visual monotony, and the sound effects were excellent. While Orson Welles (Jay Michaels) directed the movements of the actors, John Houseman (Robert F. Saunders), the producer, offered asides to the audience, detailing the history of the broadcast and its reception by the public. The radio actors (Matthew Schneider, Eleonora Mardinan, Sonia Moreno, Patricia Israel, Mary Elizabeth MiCari, Corey, Daniel Ishofsky, Simone Smith, Ingrid Griffith, Frank Rosner, Michael D’Antoni, and Derek Devareaux), attired in beautiful period costumes by Margo La Zaro, maintained a constant circle of movement between their chairs and the microphone. The circle became fairly dizzying at times, as the story increased in intensity. The cast as a whole was exceptional, especially Michaels and Saunders.

It’s an intriguing concept, a theatrical adaptation of a radio adaptation. It was certainly an entertaining production; light enough and short enough to delight, with great performances. And it’s always fascinating to be able to enjoy the sound of a play as much as (if not more than) the look.

She who must be obeyed . . .

FAUSTUS

by Christopher Marlowe; adaptation by Jay Michaels
directed by Mary Elizabeth MiCari & Michael Fortunato
Classical Stage of Genesis Repertory at Midtown Theatre Festival
Equity Showcase (July 10 – August 5)
review by Louis Lopardi . . July 10 & 11, 2002
Originally published at http://artzine.org/reviews/faustus.htm

Marlowe’s rich tapestry has served up imagery for generations of creative artists. Genesis has its day with the classic original text this summer, taking as a springboard the 1937 WPA production by Orson Welles. They do not recreate that show, but rather take us backstage to witness a Wellesian figure make his pact with the devil. His rewards are ample – as the array of film posters assure us – and the ability to entertain the masses and conjure spirits certainly comes in handy. (The varied spirits appear in the flickering light of a film projector.)

Despite the omnipresence of Light (Amy K. Browne) and Dark (Frank Rosner), this is more a play of dark and darker, with Faustus and Mephistophilis as twin “black suns of melancholy” circling the abyss of a black hole; and we on the outside get to bask in the cosmic energy which comes pouring out of that hole as it absorbs their spirits. The energy produced by the pitting of Jay Michaels as Faustus with Derek Devareaux as Mephistophilis could fuel a small city.

When Mephistophilis is first conjured he struck an otherworldly, Christ-like attitude reminiscent of funerary sculpture, and held it for the entire scene, – long enough in fact to engender the feeling that this was indeed a being of the ages. (The moment then of breaking the pose could have been truly apocalyptic had it been a bit more carefully placed.) Holding sway over Faustus, Devareaux seemed more like the seductive Vampire Lestat than a traditional Mephisto: suave, unctuous, physically beautiful – using his long hands carefully, nearly as props in themselves – and revealing his true nature with savage snarls fleetingly, when crossed. It was a brilliant and altogether fitting rendition.

Jay Michaels’ take on Faustus never strayed far from his paradigm Orson Wells. But he wasn’t merely playing Wells as Faust; he had internalized this model and recreated him anew. Body language, eyes, vocal timbre, even the handling of costume parts… all under constant control; this was a tour de force of power-acting.

The entire supporting company was well rounded and alert. Frank Rosner, an actor of great range and depth, supported as Dark and made an astounding transformation into Gluttony. Bill Galarno played several roles, including a take on the Emperor that could only be called “presidential”. As SHE (who should be listened to at least, if not obeyed), Mary Elizabeth MiCari made the most of a shallow part with her powerful stage presence. She seemed to have made a decision to tone down that presence to make this divinity more ethereal. Robert F. Saunders played Faustus’ friend Wagner with a just right air of diffidence, and appeared later as Envy of course.

Michael Fortunato’s eccentric lighting design left things mostly in the dark, apparently to underscore the moodiness of the play. Speaking of masks, the character masks (also Fortunato) were first rate and ingenious. The characterization of Sloth for example was extraordinary and pitiable – helped along by Jeanine Bartel’s body language and delivery. But for the ultimate combination of makeup and body language we had Michael D’Antoni’s Lucifer- a daemonic creation right out of Hollywood, which needed only more focus. Erik K. Johnston’s sparingly used original music was suitably macabre, and Rob DeScherer’s sound design was a pastiche of period film music and effects. Materials were well chosen (thank you for not merely aping Westminster Chimes) but their placement and finishing seemed often haphazard. Scenes that demanded either a climactic moment or a graceful segue ended simply in a long and clumsy silence – over and again dampening applause before it could even get started. Whoever made that decision should have a long talk with Mephistophilis.

A well thought out production concept makes this show an excellent guide to Marlowe’s theatre of archtypes. The stated setting (1937-1962, New York, California, Hell) reminds us to watch our backs as well as our motives, for as Mephistophilis admits to our backstage Faustus: “This IS Hell. Nor am I out of it.”

Richard III

By William Shakespeare
The Genesis Repertory Ensemble
Directed by Jay Michaels
Midtown International Theatre Festival
New 42nd Street Theatre
348 W. 42nd Street, 2nd floor (279-4200)
Equity showcase (Festival closes Aug. 5; call for schedule)
Review by Steve Gold for OOBR

Richard III has the nastiness of Rudolph Guiliani and the megalomania of Donald Trump. In the end, however, he resembles no one so much as Uncle Joe Stalin. In a cozy theater on 42nd street, the Genesis Rep cooked up an eccentric, swiftly paced rendition of Shakespeare’s dark tale of bloodshed and treachery.

It might be easier to list the people who Richard does not murder, as opposed to the ones he does. Brothers, nephews, friends – you name ‘em, he kills ‘em. His lust for power borders on the erotic. Anyone who blocks his way is simply eliminated, like an annoying housefly, and all because he wants to succeed his ailing brother King Edward IV. This does not occur until Act IV. By this time, Richard has killed his other brother, Clarence (Derek Devereaux); Edward IV’s sons the Prince of Wales (Travis Taylor) and the Duke of York (Andrew Leibowitz); and several of Richard’s cronies. Then there is Lady Anne (boldly played by Sharita Storm Sage), whose husband and father-in-law were previously murdered by Richard, but who ends up marrying him after one of the weirdest courtship scenes ever written (he later kills her). It falls to the Earl of Richmond (David Erick Austin) – later to become Henry VII – to lead a revolt against Richard that leads to his profoundly well deserved death.

Jay Michaels’s production was something of an odd bird: the first two-thirds or so was characterized by an insouciant, almost joky quality. There was a charming and funny puppet show (staged by Vit Horejs) that opened the play and served as a prolog; and the two murderers later employed by Richard (Michael D’Antoni and Matthew Klein) were more comical than sinister. But things become tense when Richard realizes that Richmond is serious about getting rid of him. This transition, from the vaguely lighthearted to gritty drama, could have been awkward. Thanks to Michaels’s cast, it wasn’t. Paul Nicholas as Richard was first seen as a chatty, avuncular scoundrel; he ended up a frightened shell of a man, unsure of what to do next. Mary Elizabeth McCari was initially haughty and Wagnerian as Edward IV’s wife, though this too was softened somewhat as her performance progressed, in keeping with the changing tone of the play. The hollow-cheeked Michael Kearney Wright was eerily sepulchral as the dying Edward IV. Josh Blumenfeld gave to Buckingham, Richard’s chief henchman, an effectively weasel-like quality. Austin made credible that Richmond is in fact tough enough to take on Richard. Sheila Mart, as Richard’s mother the Duchess of York, offered a goodly supply of sarcastic wit when she tells her darling boy what she really thinks of him. Travis Taylor’s Prince of Wales nimbly brought out the precocious cleverness of the Prince of Wales; whereas the relative obtuseness of Devereaux’s Clarence was well-displayed.

The smaller roles of Lord Rivers, Hastings, and Catesby (Robert F. Saunders, David Arthur Bacharach and the sonorous-voiced Andrew Westney) were capably filled. Andrew Leibowitz’s York was difficult to hear above the rumble of the air conditioner (and someone should have told him beforehand not to chew gum during the curtain call; Edward IV would have been mortified). The evening’s piece de resistance, however, was Irma St. Paule’s hilariously hell-raising Queen Margaret, widow of Henry VI (predecessor of Edward IV, and yet another of Richard’s victims). When Richard goes up against Margaret, we nearly feel sorry for him.

Margo La Zaro’s eclectic costumes – shawls, hooded robes, evening gowns – were fine. The lighting (uncredited) was at its most atmospheric when employing shadowy reds and blues to bathe a set consisting of a chair, a semi-rectangular bench, and, resting on the bench, a lonely book.

Theatre Review by Matthew Murray (talkinbroadway.com)

Most productions of William Shakespeare’s Richard III begin with the famous line, “Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this sun of York.” This is not so with the Genesis Repertory production which is currently playing at the Midtown International Theatre Festival.

Rest assured that Shakespeare’s dramatic, intense text detailing the bloody lengths to which one man will go to be king, has not been at all desecrated. That speech remains the first dialogue spoken in character, but it is preceded by a show that summarizes the action detailed in the earlier plays in Shakespeare’s series of histories told entirely with miniature marionettes (provided by Vit Horejs and the Czechoslovak-American Marionette Theatre). While downright hilarious in places (watching marionette versions of warring houses bloodily murder each other is an indescribable experience) the show is always informative and sets the stage, literally, for what is to come. The show ends with one lone marionette appearing onstage, just as the lights come up on the start of Richard’s speech.

The marionettes are used in other ways throughout the evening as well, always brilliantly. They provide an extension to the production’s already fairly sizeable ensemble, as well as make some fascinating stage effects possible. For some reason, the use of the marionettes to demonstrate a beheading just seems right. When the ghosts of those Richard has murdered reappear later bearing their own marionettes, the moment is chilling and highly effective.

The human actors in the show don’t do poorly by any stretch of the imagination, but none of the performers is capable of rising above their marionette counterparts. Paul Nicholas, as Richard, commands the language well, and infuses Richard with an earthy sex appeal that works for the character as conceived here, but never really takes command of the stage the way it seems he should. He doesn’t seem to possess the fire necessary to orchestrate the deeds he must to become ruler. Josh Blumenfeld as Buckingham, one of Richard’s compatriots, does better in his role, but is still never entirely convincing.

The women, as a whole, fare better. Sharita Storm Sage’s Lady Anne, Richard’s love interest, is fiery, while the more regal women, including Queen Elizabeth herself (Mary Elizabeth MiCari), The Duchess of York (Sheila Mart), and Queen Margaret (Irma St. Paule) turn in pointed, detailed performances. The rest of the cast, though possessing few standouts, does admirably and carries the story along on their capable shoulders.

Director Jay Michaels does a lot with the material, and presents it quite well, always keeping the story in prime focus, and Margo La Zaro’s costumes, though mostly suggestive, evoke the flavor of the play and the setting well.

However, it’s the marionettes that both make and steal the show. Michaels and the cast managed to use the marionettes in the best way possible and, through no fault of their own, lost some of their own thunder. Their idea, it seems, was too good, making a production of Richard III going further still with the marionette idea an intriguing prospect. The show as a whole is good, but it is the marionettes and their masterful use that make this production of Richard III a must-see.

Genesis Repertory
Richard III
By William Shakespeare, adapted and directed by Jay Michaels
The Midtown International Theatre Festival
The New 42nd Street Theatre
348 West 42nd Street between 8th and 9th Avenues
Tickets $15 per show / Festival Pass $99

The Merchant of Venice

By William Shakespeare
Directed by Jay Michaels
Genesis Repertory Ensemble
Jan Hus Playhouse
Equity showcase (closed)
Review by Julie Halpern for OOBR

Themes of anti-Semitism in Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice take on a new urgency in Genesis Repertory’s powerful new production, set in 1938 Nazi Germany. Opening with Yom Kippur prayers, and culminating with Kristallnacht a few months later, anti-Semitism, Jewish self-loathing, confusion, and skewed loyalties reach fever pitch. Unfortunately, Shakespeare’s language and aspects of the play not dealing with anti-Semitism, such as the casket scene and the sensuality of daily life on the Rialto, were diminished, with Jewish or Nazi themes taking precedence throughout the evening. Director Jay Michaels and his talented cast are to be commended for taking on such an emotionally wrenching project, which made effective use of Yiddish, Hebrew and German for immediacy but created a clash of Venetian and German sensibilities, never fully realizing either.

Most of the characters were Nazis or Nazi sympathizers. The opening scene — revealing Germans Bassanio (David Look) and Antonio (Travis Taylor) planning Bassanio’s wooing strategy to win the wealthy Portia — was chilling in juxtaposition to the gentle Yom Kippur prayers of Shylock and his fellow congregants, at the other end of the stage. Portia was a decadent German vamp, game for any adventure, but Nell Gwynn’s powerfully seductive portrayal failed to capture the gentle, thoughtful side of Portia’s nature, playing her more as a madcap heiress than a respected noblewoman. Her confidant, Nerissa (Milda De Voe) was also a glamorous, fun-loving adventuress. De Voe and Michael Fortunato’s ardent Gratiano set off erotic fireworks whenever they were on stage together. Shylock’s self-hating daughter, Jessica (Heidi Hecker) went as far as marrying a Nazi Lorenzo (an intensely appealing Kevin Colbert), and Hecker’s portrayal created a riveting evolution from a shy Jewish girl to a Nazi hausfrau, particularly telling in her coldness at Shylock’s trial.

Josh Blumenfeld’s Shylock beautifully captured the tortured, abused, and often maddening Shylock, in an exquisitely balanced performance – painfully fragile in the courtroom scene, yet perpetuating the most repugnant Jewish stereotype when fretting over his ducats. Shylock’s servant, Launcelot, was disturbingly embodied as an ignorant, lower-class thug, in a stunning performance by Brian M. Brewer.

Travis Taylor was a handsome, sensual, vaguely disquieting Antonio. David Look radiated leading-man charm and chemistry with Gwynn as Bassanio. Tim Browning as the Prince of Morocco and Robert Saunders as The Baron of Arrogon were uproarious as Portia’s Hitleresque suitors in the casket scene.

Sid Hammond and Sky Walters’s set conveyed the cold desperation of Nazi German streetlife, with jarring lighting designed by Adam Bair. Popular German songs of the period like “The Happy Wanderer” and “Lili Marlene,” and the national anthem, “Deutschland Uber Alles,” were provided by sound designer Michael Fortunato. The uncredited costumes were very striking, particularly the luxurious women’s gowns. With Neil Kleid, Ian Tomashik, and Paul James Bowen.