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/

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.

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.