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  • Singing Sicko: American Psycho from Houston Broadway Theatre

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    Houston Broadway Theatre’s inaugural production last July, 2024, Next to Normal, might have been a one-off. But what a one-off! Superlative in every aspect – design, performance, emotional wallop – it surprised us with its Broadway caliber excellence. Who is this new company in town, where have they been, and when are we to have the privilege of seeing them again?

    Well, the wait is over, and Houston Broadway Theatre has knocked us silly with another theatrical slap in the face. In a startling presentation, this young company has given us a most superior show in the revised cult musical, American Psycho.

    Be warned, this 2013 musical, with music and lyrics by Spring Awakening’s Tony Award-winner Duncan Sheik and book by Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa, is adapted, as if you didn’t know, from Bret Easton Ellis’ scandalous 1991 novel about Wall Street investment banker Patrick Bateman (Robert Lenzi) who just happens to be a serial killer during his off hours from the office. Don’t take the kiddies nor your Aunt Fanny who might swoon at the simulated sex and copious gore. I must admit, the sex scenes, albeit misogynistic, are rendered a bit harmless since all participants keep their underwear on. But it is nevertheless suggestive in the extreme. Unless she’s a cougar, keep grandma at home.

    After a successful premiere run in London, the show opened on Broadway in 2016 and immediately flopped. In limbo for years, the creators, forever faithful to their vision, revisited Psycho and through skillful botox and much creative surgery have resuscitated the musical into the form now on stage at Zilkha Hall at the Hobby Center. The body is beautiful.

    Manhattan. The late 1980s. It was a time of conspicuous consumption and conspicuous corruption, bedecked in Armani, English loafers made from ostrich hide, and fine silk bespoke neckties. These young masters of the universe dined at Nobu or Lutece, their hard gym-toned bodies splooted over by young nubile women, already bought, or later paid, for their attentiveness. The men were glorified at work, at leisure, and in bed.

    Inside the gilt bubble that encased them, morality was an alien concept, anathema, it didn’t apply. The view, all surface and no depth, sparkled wherever they looked, mesmerizing, seductive. Whatever it took, make that deal, get that deal, succeed whether you ruin your associates or betray your friends. Just do it.

    Patrick Bateman’s compass has been broken for years. Like his co-workers, he lives for immediate pleasure, for another snort of cocaine or an easy lay. Everyone, everything, is a commodity up for sale or for the taking. They talk of exfoliants, the sharp cut of a suit, whether tassels on shoes are proper business attire, the shapely legs on a secretary, the cologne on a business card. They obsess over their gym workouts in “Hardbody,” yet they can’t differentiate between any of them.

    With its relentless product placement, its too easy joke on Trump’s “The Art of the Deal,” American Psycho is an almost comic allegory on money and greed, the pursuit of mindless excess, rampant consumerism, first-world privilege, and the numbing down of personal interactions. The killing spree begins, but is it for real? Or have American values been so debased that they send Patrick on a psychic spiral into hell? Is this all delusional?

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    Robert Lenzi has power to spare in the role of Patrick Bateman, the Wall Street investment banker.

    Photo by Lynn Lane

    The leads are fantastic. I assume every audition required a valid gym membership, for the cast is wondrously chiseled. Lenzi has power to spare, whether chopping off legs or hacking his rival to death with an ax. Thankfully, the nail gun crucifixion gets a cursory mention. While insufferable Patrick rattles off his ‘80s luxury possessions like his Rolex, Ralph Lauren underwear, his 30-inch Toshiba TV, his Walkman, we actually begin to warm to him. He crumbles from the inside, and we understand a bit why he’s so possessed, so fragile. Could we be driven mad, too, by the constant “Selling Out” that is presented so seductively in Jason H. Thompson’s video projections? We’re lured into this fantasy world just like Patrick. Don’t we want this stuff, too?

    The 18-member cast is first-rate with kudos going to Chiara Trentalange as unrequited love interest Jean; Paul Schwensen as obnoxious Paul Owen; Owen Claire Smith as Evelyn, Patrick’s fiancee and Hampton’s Housewife deluxe; Jacquelyne Paige as Courtney, oblivious girlfriend to gay Luis (Ivan Moreno) who’s in love with Patrick; Tyce Green (who produced The Who’s Tommy on Broadway) as Timothy Price, entitled scion of Patrick’s investment firm Price & Price. Then there’s Kaye Tuckerman as zonked-out Mrs. Bateman, a delicious cameo role that Tuckerman eats alive, with dangling cigarette or martini glass firmly in hand. She appears and disappears regularly, but each time bequeaths a little gem of a performance.

    The quartet of a band (Michael Ferrara, Beto González, Steve Martin and Joe Beam, all responsible for the powerhouse arrangements) sounds like a DJ’s gig on steroids. Hope Easterbrook’s choreography recalls the ‘80s dance moves with perfection – remember voguing?. Tim Mackabee’s cubist set design, all gray, black, and white, is Broadway caliber; as are Colleen Grady’s psychedelic costumes of luxury suits and underground club wear; while Robert J. Aguilar’s lighting conjures Patrick’s interior hellscapes with pin-spot accuracy. The entire production soars with professionalism under Joe Calarco’s knife-sharp direction.

    The show has been softened, certainly from the book and its iterations in London and Broadway. It’s more accessible, more fun, yet still chilling in its condemnation of wretched excess and overweening pride. Listen to the women harmonizing in “You Are What You Wear,” a litany describing designer clothes that make the woman. “I want blackened, charred mahi mahi. Works so well with Isaac Mizrahi… But let’s be clear, there’s nothing ironic about our love of Manolo Blahnik.” This catalog song would have Stephen Sondheim salivating.

    American Psycho is still a cult show, but one not to be missed. Not when Houston Broadway Theatre sinks its highly polished teeth into it. If this is the producer’s Houston launch to get the production back to London and Broadway again, I think they’ve found the perfect road to success.

    Note: HBT must have deep moneybags. Look at the incredible physical production which would be lauded on any Broadway stage, but take a gander at their glossy playbill. No inexpensive xerox page, but a magazine worthy of GQ with ads for Rolex, Absolute vodka, Cricketeer and Flusser suitings, Clinique skin care, Crown Royal, and Lamborghini, all in the style of Patrick Bateman’s power world. Brilliant marketing…and expensive. Just what this show extols and exposes.

    American Psycho continues through September 14. 7 p.m. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday; 7:30 p.m. Friday and Saturday; and 2 p.m. Sunday. Zilkha Hall at The Hobby Center, 800 Bagby. For more information, call 713-315-7625 or visit thehobbycenter.org or broadwayatthehobbycenter.com. $33.80-$148.20.

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    D. L. Groover

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  • A Revamped American Psycho: The Musical Heads for Houston

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    A massively redone American Psycho: The Musical is on its way to Houston, with plans to remount it in London next year and hopes of eventually getting it back on a Broadway stage. Houston audiences will have more influence than usual on what the revised version turns out to be.

    Why?  Because the first three nights the show is performed at the Hobby Center will be previews complete with next day script adjustments. According to Robert Lenzi who plays the lead role, the script won’t be “frozen” until opening night on September 5.

    Despite an impressive lineup of buff stars in Psycho’s first trip to Broadway in 2016, the original musical closed after 27 previews and 54 performances leading to all sorts of debates about why that happened. Was it the audience, the gory book it was based upon, the mixed reviews it received? There were some fans, but not enough.

    Tony Award®-winner Duncan Sheik (Spring Awakening) and Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa (Glee, Riverdale, Pretty Little Liars) believe there is still something worthwhile to be salvaged in their new adaptation of the best seller by Bret Easton Ellis. Both of them have come up with a new script and revised score. But they want to do some more fine tuning before they head back to London, hence the stopover at Houston Broadway Theatre. Joe Calarco is directing.

    Lenzi plays Patrick Bateman, the ’80s era Wall Street exec who has it all, but turns into a creature much more violent, darker and without a conscience at night. He says he welcomes the fast pace of the changes coming his way.

    “I love it. I’m an actor based in New York and I’ve done a lot ,one of my true passions is doing developmental work. When you do developmental work you really are kind of fast on your feet and trying this. You read something on Monday and you show up Tuesday morning and there’s new pages.

    “They are fresh out of the printer and it’s the most exciting thing to be handed fresh pages. If you’re lucky as we are with this show, written by truly brilliant writers and reading them out loud for the first time.”

    The musical was originally produced in London in 2013 and brought it to Broadway in 2016. “Now our writers,  Roberto and Duncan, are revisiting the piece and taking everything they learned from the London and the Broadway production and also spending more time with the piece and obviously the world has continued to change,” Lenzi says.

    “The preview process is an incredibly important part of when you’re doing new work,” Lenzi says. “Right now we’re at a studio, it’s just us. Eventually you’ll  perform the play at night and then the next day we’ll get new pages. We’ll rehearse all day, take a dinner break, breathe and then perform the new things that night and see how it goes. And continue that process until the show becomes ‘frozen.’ That is the version we’ll do every night after opening.”

    Actually, Lenzi’s history with the show includes the fact that his wife — his girlfriend at the time — was in the original Broadway cast. He saw the final dress rehearsal for that show and “was totally blown away by what the story had a say and by that character.”

    Asked to describe his character, Lenzi says: “He is troubled by the lack of authenticity in the world around him, this idea of  materialism and hyper consumerism that he participates in. It drives him to want to take up the world and show them the horrors that are around them. He does that by committing acts of horror himself. It leads him down this rabbit hole of dark, existential despair.”

    As for portraying a character so diabolical, Lenzi says he doesn’t have to like him, but he does need to understand what leads Bateman to act the way he does — to map out the logic of what he does.

    The musical isn’t just blood and guts, however, he say: “There are many satirical elements. It’s  also incredibly witty and and funny and absurdist comedy elements to it. There are dark elements, but there are also things about the absurdity of life that are truly hysterical

    But Psycho is definitely not for children, Lenz says.

    “At the heart of the play. It’s a great work of existentialism as in what is the point of all this. In the world today, we’re existing on our phones, we’re presenting ourselves through social media. And when you sort of stop and think it’s like what is the point of all of this? What is the point of human existence?

    The show in a very absurd and dark way kind of tackles this major idea of what it is to be a human being,” Lenzi says. “It’s this one man trying to make sense of all this in a really heighted way.”

    Performances are scheduled for September 2-14 (with opening night on September 5) at 7 p.m. Tuesday through Thursday and Sunday, 7:30 p.m. Friday and Saturday and 2 p.m. Sunday at the Hobby Center, 800 Bagby. For more information, call 713-315-7625 or visit thehobbycenter.org or broadwayatthehobbycenter.com. $33.80-$148.20.

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    Margaret Downing

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  • Tyger, Tyger, Burning Bright: Life of Pi at the Hobby

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    That classic icon from vaudeville and film, the great curmudgeon W.C. Fields said it best, “Never work with kids and animals.”

    But he never worked with Richard Parker (the tiger). Fields would have met his match. A superstar without equal, on view in Life of Pi from Broadway at the Hobby, what a magnificent and oh-so-animalistic Bengal tiger, who shares a lifeboat with lone survivor Pi after a storm capsizes the freighter on which his family and remnants of the family zoo in Pondicherry, India, go down with the ship. His arduous adventure with his feline shipmate, who eyes him hungrily throughout, lasts 227 days, the last few two weeks without water.

    We first meet this gorgeous jungle cat in the opening scenes at the zoo where he is fed Pi’s beloved goat. Pi hates him after that, and that encounter forms his disgust and wild anger when the tiger swims toward and upon the lifeboat. The struggle is fierce, using all the technology of premiere stagecraft and wizardry at the creators’ disposal. The entire play is one of wonder, make-believe, base animal instincts, blood and guts, and transcendence. It is a beauty of a show and should not be missed.

    Not since the Lion King’s opening prologue, where the denizens of the Veldt prance, fly, scramble, and lumber down the theater aisle and up to the stage where Pride Rock beckons, has there been such munificence of staging and imagination. It takes your breath away, as it transports you back to childhood and the magic of live theater and the wonder of make-believe.

    We see the puppeteers, like Japanese Bunraku, but they instantly disappear, shadowy figures, and all we see is the animal, be it orangutan, zebra, hyena, or butterflies, star constellations, a giraffe at the zoo peeking through his enclosure, neon fish darting through the Pacific, or Pi on his make-shift raft as he paddles to get just far enough away from growling Parker reigning from the lifeboat. The stagehands are right in view as they pull the raft to and fro from the sides of the stage, but we’re so enchanted by what is happening to Pi (and to the tiger) that we only see the drama, what’s in front of us. If this isn’t theater pixie dust, I don’t know what is.

    While all eyes are glued to Richard Parker, whether snoozing near the bow or grabbing a passing fish or chomping on that horrid hyena and tearing out his throat, there is a story to tell, which is the reason Yann Martel wrote his book and Ang Lee filmed it in 2012. Of course, Lee had all the CGI in the world to create Parker and the ocean and the stars, but theater has something even better – our imagination. Photo-realism can’t compete with that. That’s the theater’s ace up its sleeve. We don’t need vistas, give us a taste and we’ll fill it in.

    That’s exactly what director Max Webster, adapter Lolita Chakrabarti, set and costume designer Tim Hatley, projection designer Andrzej Goulding, and the puppet wizards Nick Barner and Finn Caldwell weave so well together, along with sumptuous sound design by Carolyn Downing, and an Indian percussive soundtrack from Andrew T. Mackay. It all melds together flawlessly.

    While the play bounces back and forth from Mexican hospital room where Pi is treated for trauma after his harrowing travels, he is grilled by a persistent insurance adjuster to get the real reason for the accident. Pi goes into flashbacks, like a psychic encounter, and relates his magic realism tale. Is he dreaming all this? Was it real? Did Pi make friends with his captive tiger? Or is there another story, certainly one more grisly that involves people, not zoo animals, onboard the lifeboat? What was their fate? And is this latest tall tale true?

    Pi’s story is one of survival, forgiveness, family loss, family love, all bound up in a National Geographic documentary.

    On opening night, just before Richard Parker was to make his zoo appearance, the curtain was rung down and a “stop show” announcement was broadcast. Taha Mandviwala (Pi) would be replaced by this tour’s alternative Pi, Savidu Geevaratne. We never were told of Mandviwala’s fate, but we hope he is all right. He was jumping on and off his hospital bed with abandon, and perhaps he sprained his foot. We wish him well, but Geevaratne spelled him with force, youthful ardor, and an athletic physicality that served him well as he ran around the lifeboat to avoid the ravenous Parker. His pleas to his three faiths – Christianity, Buddhism, and Islam – whenever life gave him a jolt were impressive indeed.

    But, really, who can hold a stage when a star appears. Richard Parker, along with Joey from War Horse, and maybe Toto from The Wizard of Oz, has star wattage that eclipses Taylor Swift. I mean, you can’t take your eyes off him. He purrs, roars, growls with majestic command; he prowls with muscular sleekness; he’s lithe yet deadly. I suppose you’re supposed to hate his feral, take-no-prisoners attitude, but we can’t, we just can’t. He’s too magnificent a creature. We want to cuddle, like Pi does near the end when they are both famished and exhausted on the beach.

    There are eight actors who inhabit Parker, and three animate him for each performance. One moves the head, who we see standing by him; one is crouched inside to work his front legs, and one is bent over to move his back legs and tail. It is must be a grueling physical workout to perform this role, but everything is graceful and smooth. Amazing, really. But the only actor I know for sure who was one of the three was Toussaint Jeanlouis, because you could match his Playbill bio picture with the actor moving Parker’s head. And he was the only one seen, except at the curtain call, which naturally brought down the house for the talented trio.

    Watching puppets get gored and eviscerated may not be appropriate for youngsters, but this is animal life in the raw and they are only puppets, so maybe Life of Pi would be all right for them. But it sure would teach them – and show them – in no uncertain terms how magical and alive live theater is. Highly recommended, the wonders onstage – and Mr. Parker! – will leave you breathless.

    Life of Pi continues through August 24 at 7:30 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday; 2 p.m. and 7:30 p.m. Saturday; and 1:30 p.m. and 7 p.m. Sunday at the Hobby Center, 800 Bagby. For more information, call 713-315-7625 or visit thehobbycenter.org or broadwayatthehobbycenter.com. $40-$100.40.

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    D. L. Groover

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  • Presenting the Houston Theater Awards 2025: Get Thee Hither to a Stage

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    Theater’s back and Houston’s got it.

    The 2024-25 Houston theater, and Houston itself, returned in force after the restrictions imposed during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic. The shows had all the provocation, charm, intellect, and humor that graced the pre-pandemic seasons. The shows have grown up. Even old chestnuts have been refurbished for this new era. And the audience has seemed to enjoy this rebirth, this renewal.

    It’s been a banner season, and we are grateful for it. The joy is infectious.

    Look at the myriad of plays we’ve been blessed with, from all our companies: 4th Wall’s old-fashioned, exceptionally well-made play Swing State; the contemporary and telling update of Bedlam’s Hamlet; or the sheer perfection of Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike. Dirt Dogs’ ferocious, psychotic Bug and the chilling, toxic theatricality of Blackbird.

    The utter joy found in the Alley’s Private Lives and the sheer elated surrealism of Primary Trust; Mildred’s Umbrella’s neighborly take on motherhood with Cry it Out; Rec Room’s diverse casting in Death of a Salesman; Main Street’s world premiere of the hitman comedy/drama Seven Assassins Walk Into a Bar; A.D. Players’ silly and impeccably acted The Foreigner or the haunting How to Die: The Life of Dietrich Bonhoeffer; Classical’s creepy Dracula; Catastrophic’s sad yet beguiling Love Bomb; The Garden Theatre’s electric Doubt; Stages’ nostalgia-tinged the ripple, the wave that carried me home; and so many more.

    But it’s not just the work that challenged; everything did, from design to performance, sound to lighting. It was exciting to see pros like Pamela Vogel, Wesley Whitson, and David Rainey have renaissance roles that also challenged us. We were treated to a dreamlike, tatty St. Louis apartment; a vampire’s cobwebbed castle; a filthy trash-filled lunch room; old Germany with hot youths; a MacDonald’s restaurant; a garage apartment in Madrid; an Atlantic City hovel; a Bowery florist shop with a man-eating alien plant; an oil rig in the Gulf; everywhere on earth.

    And what sounds we heard: an infestation of bugs through walls and under skin; rock music cranked to 11; sexy Argentinian tangos; the sounds of an oil spill with squawking gulls covered in goo; the smash of a beloved glass unicorn; the lone sound of “Taps” at Houston’s Camp Logan. All reverberated and kept us mesmerized.

    We applaud all the following finalists and winners. You make us proud to report on the theater.

    The 2024-25 theater season resounded with innovation and renewed professionalism. It was a season for thankfulness. May it continue. — D.L. Groover

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    Pamela Vogel and Wesley Whitson in 4th Wall’s production of Swing State.

    Photo by Gabriella Nissen

    BEST ACTRESS
    Winner: Pamela Vogel as Peg in Swing State (4th Wall Theatre Co.) and as Joan Didion in The Year of Magical Thinking (Main Street Theater)

    Two powerhouse leading roles right on top of each other at two different Houston theaters — Pamela Vogel amazed audiences once again in a stellar year. First up was her role as Peg in Swing State, which had her playing a widow living on the Wisconsin prairie. She’s troubled by the wilderness she sees disappearing before her eyes. Why are there fewer birds, bees, and wildflowers? Could this be pesticide runoff from her neighbor’s land?

    At the same time, in another reclamation project, the former guidance counselor has hired a young handyman who’s spent time in prison.  They have an easy camaraderie.  But when some of her possessions go missing, the local sheriff with a grudge focuses all her attention on him. Peg starts to have suspicions as well, which leads to a tragic end to the 90-minute play.

    In a role miles apart from that of a Midwestern widow, Vogel becomes the acclaimed author and intellectual Joan Didion in The Year of Magical Thinking. The one-woman play has her character working through the shattering developments in her life: her husband has died and her daughter is hospitalized with serious illness and eventually dies as well. National acclaim, as it turns out, is no defense against loss.

    Rather than resorting to an overflow of wailing grief, Vogel as Didion mixes moments of nostalgia with hard clinical facts involving funeral arrangements and medical treatments. Occasionally, she expresses disbelief about what is happening to her.

    Few actresses could have provided two such mesmerizing, honest, and profound performances in the same year. Fortunately, Pamela Vogel is one of those rare, accomplished actresses able to do just that, making her our clear selection for Best Actress.

    Finalists: Callina Anderson as Agnes White in Bug (Dirt Dogs Theatre Co.), Nora Hahn as Sister Aloysius Beauvier in Doubt, A Parable (The Garden Theatre), Olivia Knight as Una in Blackbird (Dirt Dogs Theatre Co.), Chaney Moore as Lina in Cry it Out (Mildred’s Umbrella Theater Company) and Whitney Zangarine as Jessie in Cry it Out (Mildred’s Umbrella Theater Company).

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    Brandon Morgan as Booth and Timothy Eric as Lincoln—hard to imagine one without the other.

    Photo by Gabriella Nissen

    BEST ACTORS
    Winners: Timothy Eric as Lincoln and Brandon Morgan as Booth in Topdog/Underdog (4th Wall Theatre Co.)

    Lincoln and Booth are siblings who have been at odds for years, not helped at all by their father’s caustic sense of humor in giving them their in-conflict names at birth. Neither one has been successful in life, and they chafe at each other as much as the hand they’ve been dealt.

    Their parents abandoned them at an early age, and they’ve been more or less joined together, whether they want to be or not, ever since.

    Brandon Morgan as Booth is a loud, impulsive man who has created a scenario where if his older brother Lincoln, who used to be a card shark, would just show him how to handle that hustling game, his life would dramatically change its course. He bounces, he springs, he is overly optimistic about the woman he’s chasing for a girlfriend. He sees cheating at cards as a step up from stealing clothes from stores.

    Timothy Eric is Lincoln, a former champion of three-card monte who’s finally gone straight and avoids the cards like a reformed alcoholic sidesteps the bottle. In his speech and the oh-so-tired way he carries himself, Eric portrays a much more reserved man, beaten down by life and just trying to get by. He ekes out a living as a white-faced Abraham Lincoln in an arcade. He worries that the arcade business is not going so well, and he may be replaced.

    Both Eric and Morgan, each of whom has received accolades for their previous stage work in the Houston area, handle their roles with telling authenticity. There is no clear-cut good guy versus bad guy in this play. The ending is equally devastating to both.

    What we are fortunate in is that two superb actors brought these troubled souls to life. Their portrayals were so on point that this was a theater experience in which no suspension of disbelief was required.

    Finalists: Kyle Clark as Peter Evans in Bug (Dirt Dogs Theatre Co.), John Johnston as Charlie in The Foreigner (A.D. Players), Philip Lehl as Vanya in Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike (4th Wall Theatre Co.), David Rainey as Willy Loman in Death of a Salesman (Rec Room Arts), and Wesley Whitson as Ryan in Swing State (4th Wall Theatre Co.) and as Hamlet in Bedlam’s Hamlet (4th Wall Theatre Co.).

    Helen (Sarah Sachi) reading a letter she has received from her daughter, Janice (LaKeisha Rochelle Randle), who is currently at her aunt’s farm for the summer.

    Photo by Melissa Taylor

    BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS
    Winner: Sarah Sachi as Helen in the ripple, the wave that carried me home (Stages)

    Sarah Sachi has that indefinable quality that actors crave and work years to achieve: naturalness. A two-time finalist for Houston Theater Awards’ Supporting Actress (2023 and 2024), she has come into her own as strong independent mom Helen in Christina Anderson’s integrationist drama, the ripple, the wave that carried me home.

    Helen, as a Black middle-class wife in ‘60s Beacon, Kansas, and former swimming teacher, takes a lesser role to husband Edwin (an invigorated, charismatic Joseph Palmore) as he – and then, she – protests to open the public swimming pool to all. Daughter Janice (LaKeisha Rochelle Randle) is traumatized by her childhood memories of her fear of water because of her lack of it, and will blame her parents for fighting for the rights of others before they fight for her.

    The play wavers between the parents and Janice, but we’re always on the side of Helen and Edwin, whose relationship is full of music and dance, community activism, and a healthy, sexy respect for each other. When Edwin loses steam over constant years-long battles with the powers that be, Helen takes the reins and continues the fight no matter what obstacles the community puts in her path.

    It’s not Sachi’s obstinate nature as Helen that convinces, but her ease as an actor. Is there any gesture that isn’t grounded in real life? Any cadence in her speech that doesn’t sound right and true? When she laughs while dancing with Edwin, who doesn’t laugh with her? She’s an infectious actor who never for a moment seems to be performing. Now that’s acting. And, by the way, she looks stunning in that ‘60s one-piece bathing suit.

    Finalists: Amy Bruce as Annie in Love Bomb (The Catastrophic Theatre), Michelle Elaine as Corrina, Wally’s Waiter, and Bank Customers in Primary Trust (Alley Theatre), Melissa Molano as Laura in The Glass Menagerie (Alley Theatre), Sammi Sicinski as Adrienne in Cry It Out (Mildred’s Umbrella Theater Company) and Alexandra Szeto-Joe as Irina in Three Sisters (Classical Theatre Company).

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    (L-R) Brandon Carter, Kendrick Brown, and David Rainey in Death of a Salesman at Rec Room Arts.

    Photo by Tasha Gorel

    BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR
    Winner: Brandon Carter as Biff in Death of a Salesman (Rec Room Arts)

    We know Biff Loman, the one-time high school football star with a bright future ahead, who idolized his father, Willy. We also know Biff Loman, the 34-year-old sticky-fingered drifter with a knack for self-sabotage, a disillusioned son with a growing insistence on the truth – specifically, truth from his father.

    In Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman, we see both, meaning the role of Biff requires the talents of an actor who can not only embody the youth in his glory days, the one who continues to dominate his father’s memories, and then, the grown man restless and broken by betrayal, but also someone who can be both at once.

    Luckily, Rec Room Arts had the stellar Brandon Carter, an actor of exceptional skill who, in scenes from the past, foreshadowed the teenage fault lines that would eventually crack open and, in scenes from the present, showed us how the gospel according to Willy continued to haunt him like a ghost.

    In a can’t-take-your-eyes-off performance, Carter created a Biff that felt whole, playing mirror and foil to David Rainey’s Willy with electrifying clarity. Carter impressed throughout the show, with several of the play’s big set pieces, like the reveal at the Boston hotel and his meeting with Bill Oliver, landing hard with stomach-sinking impact. Still, Carter locked up this award during Biff’s final confrontation with Willy, when Biff calls himself “nothing,” and says he’s “a dime a dozen” just like Willy. It’s a necessary reckoning and catharsis at the same time, though we know, devastatingly, that Biff’s attempt to pull his father out of the delusions that are drowning him can’t prevent the “something bad” from coming.

    Finalists: Orlando Arriaga as Victor Prynne in Private Lives (Alley Theatre), Kendrick Brown as Happy in Death of a Salesman (Rec Room Arts), Benjamin McLaughlin as Tuzenbach in Three Sisters (Classical Theatre Company), Joseph “Joe P” Palmore as Edwin and others in the ripple, the wave that carried me home (Stages) and David Rainey as Bert in Primary Trust (Alley Theatre).

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    Olivia Knight and Kevin Daugherty in Dirt Dogs Theatre Co.’s production of Blackbird by David Harrower.

    Photo by Gary Griffin

    BEST BREAKTHROUGH
    Winner: Olivia Knight as Una in Blackbird (Dirt Dogs Theatre Co.)

    Ambiguity, rage, the weight of trauma, retribution, vulnerability, sexual power or sexual victim. As Una, in Blackbird, the postmortem play of an illegal May-December romance, Olivia Knight takes all these conflicting emotions and dares us to see her. To hear her. To understand just what she’s after, even if she herself isn’t sure.

    Why is she visiting the man who went to jail for seducing her when she was underage? Knight kept us guessing throughout her explosive 90 minutes on stage. As a performer, she damn near radiated with the character’s conflicting, searing emotions. We couldn’t take our eyes off her.

    We first noticed her in 2023 for her physically fluid performance as a boxer and unwilling adoptive mother in Rec Room’s production of Wolf Play. She was a well-deserved finalist in our awards that year.

    But her turn as Una proved that Knight can singularly own the stage. Confidence, talent, and a deep understanding of a very multi-formed character. She showed all that to us in what was undoubtedly one of the most memorable performances of the season.

    It’s one whopping way to break through in what was one of Houston’s better theater seasons. We look forward to seeing more of her talent in the seasons to come.

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    Todd Waite in one of his memorable roles as Sherlock Holmes.

    Photo by Lynn Lane

    REVIEWING A REMARKABLE CAREER
    Goodbye, Mr. Waite?

    If he’d ever paraphrase Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard, we can hear his clipped accent, “It’s not a retirement. I hate that word. It’s a pause.”

    After 25 seasons as an Alley Theatre Resident Acting Company member, Todd Waite has said goodbye. His last performances occurred last April in his sixth appearance as the iconic detective Sherlock Holmes in Ken Ludwig’s Baskerville. Every performance garnered a standing ovation. He deserved every one.

    But he’s not going anywhere. Yes, he’s left the Alley, but this is not farewell. The theater will always beckon, as it will this September when Waite steps onto the breach again as Sir Leigh Teabing in The Da Vinci Code. So much for a pause.

    A distinctive actor, tall and lithe, born in Canada as Todd Postlethwaite, Waite resembled a thespian from past times, like matinee idol William Gillette, the first stage Holmes; or James O’Neill, father of Eugene; or perhaps Victorian star Richard Mansfield. He was a classic throwback, etched by footlights. His name listed in the Playbill brought an anticipation few others conjured. His height was a plus, for it allowed him to stand out on stage, but his presence was undeniable: somewhat regal, aloof, a man with an aura. Watch, he quietly radiated, I’m going to knock your socks off. And he did.

    He always played well with others, bringing out their best, yet he managed to rise above even when surrounded by Alley regulars. This is no mean feat; they are a formidable company, but Waite seemed out of the ordinary. By no means a distraction, he was unique in movement, diction, characterization. We watched to see what he would do, and he didn’t disappoint.

    In his 135 roles during his Alley career, he often dazzled. Remember his bitchy, soignée Crumpet the Elf in the one-man Santaland Diaries? He played this role for eight holiday seasons to full houses. He stood center stage in his silly green velvet elf costume under a pin spot, dangling a cigarette as if he couldn’t care less, and channeled Billie Holiday to comic perfection. Remember his dramatic turns in As Bees in Honey Drown (his debut Alley appearance) or the trans-species adulterer Martin in Edward Albee’s The Goat, or Who Is Sylvia?, or the repressed father in Pictures from Home? Maybe you recall his smug and contented Henry Higgins in Pygmalion.

    His character roles were just as indelible. He rolled onto stage in his chair of state as sly Cardinal Richelieu in The Three Musketeers, stopping on a dime. The fatuous director Lloyd Dallas in Noises Off; his joyous, Scottish-burr-inflected Fezziwig in A Christmas Carol; or his sadistic Nazi Commandant Pister in the world premiere of Intelligence-Slave. And who could forget that mother from hell, that self-immolating Harriet Gottlieb in Dead Man’s Cell Phone? Clenching his highball as if mother’s milk, he had the best legs of them all.

    We raise our glass to you, Todd Waite, and to the hours of enjoyment you have given us. Obviously, more will follow. We look forward to them with great pleasure.

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    Coordinated choreography.

    Photo by Tasha Gorel

    BEST CHOREOGRAPHY
    Winner: Julia Krohn for Spring Awakening (Rec Room Arts)

    What does teen spirit smell like? What does it look like? Adapted from Frank Wedekind’s 1891 scandalous and oft-censored drama, this 2007 Tony-winning musical from Duncan Sheik (music) and Steven Sater (book and lyrics) uses the forbidden-fruit drama of nascent sexual desire.

    The innocence of these youths as they break into adulthood without any help from the elders meant to guide them can be devastating. They’re on their own.

    Choreographer Krohn keeps the kids bouncing in thwarted passion, twitching in anticipation of their new raging hormones. This new world of their changing bodies is alien, but so seductive. The entire ensemble is infected with this strange mood, grinding and feeling their way to forbidden territory. It’s toe-tapping sex, set to an arpeggio of tinkling harmonium. The musical sings with life. Teen spirit is eternal. It’s also catching. You may not be able to smell teen spirit, but through Krohn’s bump-and-grind movement, you can definitely see it.

    Finalists: Dan Knechtges for Frozen (Theatre Under the Stars) and Monica Josette for Little Shop of Horrors (Theatre Under the Stars).

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    Wesley Whitson and Christy Watkins in Bedlam’s Hamlet at 4th Wall.

    Photo by Gabriella Nissen

    BEST OMNI PERFORMER
    Winner: Wesley Whitson

    Was this the year of Wesley Whitson? Three indelible performances: the down-on-his-luck truck driver Ryan in Swing State (4th Wall), the ultimate star-making turn as Hamlet in Bedlam’s Hamlet (also at 4th Wall), and the silly Clown #2 in countless cameos in The 39 Steps (Main Street). We think he can do anything.

    His former appearances in Houston prove our point. Do you remember his creepy boy scout Hugo in Feathers and Teeth at Mildred’s Umbrella (2017)? It was a startling introduction to this young actor, whose repertoire only enlarged and deepened through the years. He’s won our Best Supporting Actor and been a finalist many times over.

    There were the double roles of Fool and Cordelia in King Lear and a fey and mischievous Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream (Houston Shakespeare Festival); nerdy Logan in Chicken & Biscuits and beaten down tattooed ex-con Jason in Clyde’s (Ensemble); office opportunist Dean in Gloria (4th Wall). He shape shifts with insouciance and always has the right moves or tics for his characters. He never disappoints. One of Houston’s best, this year he shined in his trio of performances. He just had to receive our Omni Award.

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    Callina Anderson and Kyle Clark in Bug at Dirt Dogs Theatre Co.

    Photo by Gary Griffin

    BEST LIGHTING
    Winner: John Baker for Bug (Dirt Dogs Theatre Co.)

    Lighting a show that’s slippery on reality but heavy on discomfort could have been like a mosquito taking fly-bys at your eardrum. You know it’s there, but how do you capture it when landing seems elusive?

    You’ll forgive the insect metaphor; this is Bug we’re talking about. A folie à deux creepy thriller where the unlikely lovers are holed up in a decrepit motel room, certain the government has infected them with flying flesh-eating aphids.

    To get the mood correct, the way the show looks is just as important as what it says. Thanks to John Baker’s lighting prowess, Bug oozed with increasing patinas of dystopic squalor as the play progressed.

    Initially, he gave us a motel room, dark enough not to make out all the dirt but with enough glare to know it wasn’t exactly sanitary.

    As the insanity of the show ramps up, Baker’s lighting dances in two-step. Darker, grittier, scuzzier, more disturbing. Can we see the bugs flying around in all that darkness? Maybe. Or maybe it’s just the shadows. Either way, we’re icked the hell out.

    Special note also goes to Baker for his tasteful lighting on the nude scenes in the show. We saw what we needed to see and no more. Actors were taken care of properly—no small deal.

    It’s not often that lighting makes us want to tear off all our clothes and shower with bleach. We hope Baker has a giggle thinking of his part in that.

    Finalists: Stefan Azizi for Spring Awakening (Rec Room Arts), Bryan Ealey for Topdog/Underdog (4th Wall Theatre Co.), Roma Flowers for Love Bomb (The Catastrophic Theatre), Edgar Guajardo for Dracula (Classical Theatre Company), Jules Houston for Spill (Moody Center for the Arts at Rice University) and Kris Phelps for Flex (The Ensemble Theatre).

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    The sound work of Michael Mullins played like a full length symphony in Bug.

    Photo by Gary Griffin

    BEST SOUND
    Winner: Michael Mullins for Bug (Dirt Dogs Theatre Co.)

    In Bug (Dirt Dogs Theatre Co.), Michael Mullins employs a horrifyingly itch-inducing sound design.

    At some point, one imagines director Malinda L. Beckham saying, “Aphids…I need flying, biting, skin-burrowing aphids!” and Mullins smiling, knowing he had just the thing.

    However those discussions went, Mullins’ realization of the show’s need for maybe real, maybe not, insects turned into a character unto itself. Never cartoony, his insect buzzing played like a full-length symphony with climbs, lags, and crescendos building to a fury that no one sees coming. The characters were uncomfortable; we were uncomfortable. Everyone was itching. It was perfection.

    Also perfect was the accompanying overhead helicopters circling. Again, real? Not real? Are they really there or also a figment of the character’s imagination? In Mullins’ hands, we heard the choppers but also sensed something felt off with how they sounded.

    The totality of Bug’s sound design was immensely creepy, all puns intended. And there’s no way this show could have worked without it. So, it’s especially gratifying to give the award for sound to the show that hinged most strongly on this design element and more specifically to Mullins, the talent who made it happen.

    Finalists: Jon Harvey for Dracula (Classical Theatre Company) and Robert Leslie Meek for Spill (Moody Center for the Arts at Rice University) and for Toros (Rec Room Arts).

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    The oh-so-carefully crafted uniforms taking us back to 1917 Houston.

    Photo by Eisani Apedemak-Saba

    BEST COSTUMES
    Winner: Krystal Uchem for Camp Logan (The Ensemble Theatre)

    When the all-Black 3rd Battalion, 24th Infantry Regiment, arrived in Jim Crow-era Houston to guard the construction site set to become Camp Logan in 1917, they were met with racial discrimination and, eventually, outright violence. Less than a month later, a riot erupted between the soldiers and the white civilians and police. When all was said and done, military tribunals found 110 soldiers guilty and executed 19. Never before and never since has the United States Army executed so many American soldiers en masse.

    Though those convictions were overturned and the soldiers granted honorable discharges in 2023, the Houston Riot of 1917 will remain a shameful chapter in both local and American history. This season, for The Ensemble Theatre’s production of Celeste Bedford Walker’s Camp Logan, Krystal Uchem’s costume designs made that past, as difficult and painful as it may be, real.

    Uchem showed a keen eye in the construction of the military uniforms we saw on stage, her meticulous sense of detail apparent from head to toe. Or, more specifically, from broad-brimmed campaign hats to puttees. Those leg wraps and hats, along with the high collars, belted waists, and crisp coats, all grounded the production in its historical context, echoing the uniforms worn during The Great War, particularly by segregated units like the 24th.

    The earthy, militaristic color palette was composed of neutrals – khakis, tans, and browns – that fit seamlessly within the wooden walls of the barracks crafted by set designer Philip Graschel, creating a world both cohesive and authentic. It’s clear Uchem knew her marching orders and delivered to perfection, making history come alive on stage.

    Finalists: David Arevalo for Private Lives (Alley Theatre), Lilli Lemberger for Three Sisters (Classical Theatre Company), Macy Lyne for Spirits to Enforce (The Catastrophic Theatre), Juan Saracay for Miss LaRaj’s House of Dystopian Futures (The Catastrophic Theatre), Leah Smith for Dracula (Classical Theatre Company) and Spill (The Moody Center for the Arts at Rice University), and Paige Willson for The 39 Steps (Main Street Theater).

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    The BP catastrophe remembered in docu-drama form in Spill.

    Photo by William Bossen

    BEST SET DESIGN
    Winner: Ryan McGettigan for Swing State (4th Wall Theatre Co.) and Spill (Moody Center for the Arts at Rice University)

    Talk about being back. Does Mr. McGettigan have more of our Theater Awards than any other nominee? He deserves them all, of course, for his talent knows no bounds. Never does he repeat himself in his stunning work. He constantly surprises with either glamour, grit, dreamy surrealism, or naturalism. He pins each play with his spot-on designs.

    This season, he did superlative work. In Rebecca Gilman’s Swing State, he used photo realism to depict the Wisconsin farmhouse kitchen where feisty Peg counts her seeds for planting and waits for the end of the world. It was a defining portrait of Peg herself: a banging screen door, a worn-out kitchen table and chairs, a porcelain bowl above the old refrigerator, a chopping block for slicing walnuts for her beloved zucchini bread, and a large kitchen knife on the counter. The plains of the countryside spread out beyond the door. It smelled of rural life. It was sturdy, plain, no fuss.

    Spill, however, with only three performances, was theater incarnate. A surreal and symbolic dissection of the disastrous and deadly 2010 Deepwater Horizon oil rig blowout in the Gulf, author Leigh Fondakowski (The Laramie Project; Gross Indecency) documented the oilmen, the suits, the loved ones of the dead, the innocents who got sick. It was kaleidoscopic and epic in theme, and McGettigan’s set covered the entire Moody Center theater.

    A huge projection screen was center stage, which served as a lava lamp of sorts for waves, oil sheen, TV newscasts, symbolic doodles, tarred seabirds. The floor was stained with rust, the catwalks were used as rig ramps and walkways, and a ladder at the side was climbed by workers. With stunning sound work and atmospheric lighting, McGettigan’s set was as immersive in the extreme as was the play. It was gorgeous work for a most stirring production. His new award was doubly well-earned.

    Finalists: Afsaneh Aayani for Dracula (Classical Theatre Company), Stefan Azizi for Spring Awakening and Winter Solstice (Rec Room Arts), Nicholas Graves for Topdog/Underdog (4th Wall Theatre Co.), Zhuosi “Joyce” He for The Heart Sellers (Stages), Mark A. Lewis for Bug (Dirt Dogs Theatre Co.) and Tanya Orellana for Private Lives (Alley Theatre).

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    Rachel Simone Webb and the company of the North American tour of & Juliet.

    Photo by Matthew Murphy

    BEST TOURING PRODUCTION
    Winner: & Juliet (Memorial Hermann Broadway at the Hobby Center)

    The only disappointing thing about the production of & Juliet that stopped in Houston in January was its weather-shortened run. Those who were, however, lucky enough to catch it, courtesy of Memorial Hermann Broadway at the Hobby Center, got a shot of sheer fun, a joyride through pop-music perfection, and The Bard, getting a clever and contemporary revision.

    The premise of the book, by David West Read, is simple: Anne Hathaway, the wife of William Shakespeare and a storyteller in her own right, wants her husband to give his tragedy Romeo and Juliet a new ending – one that doesn’t feature Juliet meeting the pointy side of a dagger. Anne’s got a few ideas, and soon enough, Juliet gets a new beginning, friends, and a Parisian excursion. The show is irreverent, meta, and, as a jukebox musical, it’s all set to songs composed by Swedish composer Max Martin, the purveyor of pop behind hits from boybands (*NSYNC and the Backstreet Boys), pop princesses (Britney Spears, Katy Perry, and P!nk), and more (Bon Jovi and Céline Dion).

    Luke Sheppard directed the bubbly production, with attention-demanding sets from Soutra Gilmour and sequined, ruffly costumes from Paloma Young, all lit by Howard Hudson’s creative lighting designs. And then there was the cast, embarrassingly talented and led by the gorgeously voiced Rachel Simone Webb as Juliet. They not only belted and bopped along to the Swede’s impressive catalog, they did justice to Read’s cheeky script and Jennifer Weber’s sometimes familiar, often athletic, and always energetic choreography. It was a colorful romp, complete with pyro and confetti, that left us with those – in the words of Justin Timberlake – “sunshine in my pocket,” “good soul in my feet” kind of feels.

    Finalists: Funny Girl (Memorial Hermann Broadway at the Hobby Center), Hamilton (Memorial Hermann Broadway at the Hobby Center), Parade (Memorial Hermann Broadway at the Hobby Center) and The Book of Mormon (Memorial Hermann Broadway at the Hobby Center).

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    Telling the story of the men who were supposed to go to France who never got out of Houston.

    Photo by Eisani Apedemak-Saba

    BEST ENSEMBLE CAST
    Winner: Elia Adams, Kristopher Adams, Kendrick “Kay B” Brown, Jason Carmichael, Foster Davis, Tanner Thomas Ellis and Roc Living in Camp Logan (The Ensemble Theatre)

    Celeste Bedford Walker’s Camp Logan is mostly tell, don’t show. The racial hostility leading up to the 1917 Houston riot is offstage, which leaves its actors to paint the full picture. To both tell the story and register its effects on their faces, carry its weight in their bodies. And over at The Ensemble Theatre, that’s exactly what the actors did with devastating clarity, and the picture they painted was damning.

    Elia Adams was green as Charles Hardin, a Minnesotan encountering racism at this level for the first time. The character is optimistic, his belief that the service of Black soldiers is crucial to changing how America treats its Black citizens so strong that he quit school to enlist. His earnest and downright naïve idealism contrasted powerfully with Tanner Thomas Ellis’s Jacques Bugaloosa Honore, a soldier from Louisiana who revealed the past brutality visited upon him with shattering effect. As Robert Franciscus, an MP with a do-right approach whose powerlessness grows as he sees his authority stripped in the face of racist pressure, Kristopher Adams was frustration and helplessness personified.

    Roc Living supplied the production with much-needed humor and effortless charm as Gweely Brown, a native Houstonian with insight into what’s in store for the men in his hometown. Like Living, Kendrick “Kay B” Brown brought a bit of crackle as Joe Moses, a Northerner with a temper and a dangerous propensity to push back at the city’s Jim Crow laws.

    Leading the regiment was Jason Carmichael, a former Houston Theater Award winner for Best Actor, who once again delivered a tour de force performance as Sergeant McKinney, a man deeply conflicted, visibly caught between duty and the welfare of his men. The play’s anchor, Carmichael often played opposite Foster Davis’s Captain Kuelke, the unit’s seemingly benevolent and unsurprisingly duplicitous white captain. At the end of the day, he’s a man willing to sacrifice his soldiers for the sake of the status quo and in his own self-interest. And, in Davis’s hands, he does it with little more than the shrug of a bureaucrat.

    Camp Logan is truly an ensemble piece, and the soldiers’ camaraderie, in turns easy and then tenuous as the unseen world outside the barracks closes in on them, was undeniably the award-winning pulse of the production.

    Finalists: Philip Hays, Philip Lehl, Christy Watkins and Wesley Whitson in Bedlam’s Hamlet (4th Wall Theatre Co.), Jazmyn Bolden, Sydney Deone Cooper, Kiya Green, Krystal Uchem, An’tick Von Morpxing and Sierra Wilturner in Flex (The Ensemble Theatre), Elizabeth Bunch, Michelle Elaine, Dylan Godwin, Chris Hutchison, Melissa Molano, David Rainey, Nicole Rodenburg, Christopher Salazar and Todd Waite in Noises Off (Alley Theatre), Noel Bowers, Raymond Compton, Tamarie Cooper, Jovan Jackson, Bryan Kaplún, Jenna Morris Miller, Karina Pal Montaño-Bowers, Rebecca Randall, Kyle Sturdivant, Clarity Welch, Abraham Zeus Zapata and Walt Zipprian in Spirits to Enforce (The Catastrophic Theatre), Marco Camacho, Elena Coates, Austin Colburn, Timothy Eric, Nonie Hilliard, Shannon Hoffman, Adam Kral, Kayla Meins, Megan Mottu, Camryn Nunley, Cameron O’Neil, Dariel Silva and Jacqueline Vasquez in Spring Awakening (Rec Room Arts), Patricia Duran, David Gow, Philip Lehl, Skyler Sinclair, Jasmine Renee Thomas and Kim Tobin-Lehl in Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike (4th Wall Theatre Co.) and Alan Brincks, John Dunn, Susan Koozin, Adina Opalek and Spencer Plachy in Winter Solstice (Rec Room Arts).

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    Some of the seven assassins.

    Photo by Ricornel Productions

    BEST NEW PLAY/ PRODUCTION
    Winner: Seven Assassins Walk Into a Bar by Dain Geist (Main Street Theater)

    Houston actor/author Dain Geist (his last acting gig was Main Street’s world premiere Memoriam from this season) has written an actor’s dream play in his black comedy Seven Assassins Walk Into a Bar. There are, indeed, seven characters. All are different, and the cast sparks as they interact. All are hitmen, and six of them arrive at a bar to honor one of their own, the great star Bartleby who has recently been shot dead. He’s the one in the casket, and the six former friends, lovers, rivals have come to pay their respects.

    It doesn’t take long until old grievances bubble to the surface and everyone is reaching for his/her gun. Their backstories are intriguing and funny as hell. Some are dangerous and trigger-happy like unfeeling Midas (Callina Anderson in tight and riveted black leather). One is suave and gay with a penchant for semi-automatics, that would be CIA-trained Vane (Brad Goertz).

    Rabbit (Kara Greenberg) is a woke feminist who does not like being talked down to; Taft (Christianne Mays) tries too hard to keep the peace and has hidden agendas; Green (Saroa-Dwayne Sasa) is the newbie whose reputation has risen after he killed a noted bad guy; Montana (Seth Carter Ramsey) is the hot-head, who shoots first then doesn’t bother asking questions.

    No one questions their motives for killing without regard to who they are offing. They each have their own defense and justification for what they do for an uncommon day job, so moral thinking is far outside their box. But think they do, as they discuss motivation, how they like to kill, and what it means to kill a good guy versus a bad guy.

    It’s this complex view that switches the play into fun territory while we in the audience wait for the inevitable explosion. Through the talk, we sit on the edge of our seats. That’s as good an example of theater we can think of. Please write another one, Mr. Geist.

    Finalists: The Janeiad by Anna Ziegler (Alley Theatre), Memoriam by Noga Flaishon (Main Street Theater), and The Heart Sellers by Lloyd Suh (Stages).

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    Rec Room gave us a whole new perspective on Spring Awakening.

    Photo by Tasha Gorel

    BEST MUSICAL
    Winner: Spring Awakening (Rec Room Arts)

    Fun fact – some of us at Houston Press actively dislike the musical Spring Awakening. That is, until we saw what Rec Room could do with it. And really, shame on us for doubting that the thrillingly creative team at this small but mighty company could make us a believer.

    From the moment those sexually repressed but blossoming teens descended the brilliantly devised scaffolded staircase that anchored the show’s action, we knew we were in for something special.

    Forget the big splashy productions we’ve seen in the past. Rec Room’s intimate space brought us up close to the yearning, passion, and anguish as these teens journey from adolescence into adulthood.

    And what a cast it was! Some new to Rec Room, some fresh to the stage, this powerhouse group sang, danced, and emoted until no hormone was left unchurned. New talents were discovered and new performers featured. It was a thrill ride of actorly discovery.

    The music, a rock/pop explosion, filled Rec Room with uber-rebellious bravado thanks to the spirited onstage band. No orchestra pit here, the up-close music was delivered right to our lap, forcing us to lean in and listen equally well to the show’s horny ups and darker downs.

    Spring Awakening was a scandal when it premiered as a play in 1906 Berlin. It became a sensation 100 years later when it was adapted as a musical for Broadway. But at Rec Room, it became something different again. Still audacious with teen spirit, but newly intimate and personally persuasive.

    Who knew that smaller could be better for Spring Awakening?

    Finalists: Little Shop of Horrors (Theatre Under the Stars), Love Bomb (The Catastrophic Theatre) and Waitress (Theatre Under The Stars and The 5th Avenue Theatre).

    Timothy Eric as Lincoln and Brandon Morgan as Booth.

    Photo by Gabriella Nissen

    BEST PLAY/PRODUCTION
    Winner: Topdog/Underdog (4th Wall Theatre Co.)

    Suzan-Lori Parks wrote this incendiary play in 2001. Winner of a 2002 Pulitzer in Drama and a 2023 Tony revival winner, it has lost none of its fire. It is the tale of two brothers, inheritors of generations of dysfunction, neither one of whom knows how to negotiate life or even their closest relationships.

    Everything about this production at 4th Wall was first-rate. Brandon Morgan and Timothy Eric carried the show in such a striking, eloquent fashion. Director Aaron Brown, Head of Musical Theatre at Texas State University, deftly orchestrated the action in the small, intimate space that is Spring Street Studios, the audience right in there with them in that sad and depressing apartment, designed by Nicholas Graves. 

    As troubled as the brothers’ relationship was, who in the audience couldn’t identify with the near misses and misunderstandings in any family relationship? The envy about one who has a bit more money than the other, the false hero worship, the optimism that with just one more break, everything will be all right. The pessimism that just waits for the next foot to fall.

    There were moments of alleviating comedy as well. Booth comes back from one of his store forays and takes off layer after layer of clothes he’s stolen. Whenever we think he’s done, he’s not. He steals a bathrobe for Grace and ends up comically humping it, which is about as close as he’ll ever get to the object of his affections.

    A large part of what made this season so outstanding for 4th Wall, Topdog/Underdog was such an important compelling drama presented so well, that Houston theater-goers who saw it are probably still thinking about it now and then even today. That’s great theater.

    Finalists: Bug (Dirt Dogs Theatre Co.), Camp Logan (The Ensemble Theatre), Cry It Out (Mildred’s Umbrella Theater Company), Spill (Moody Center for the Arts at Rice University) and Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike (4th Wall Theatre Co.).

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    Matt Hune’s staging of Spring Awakening was filled with challenges, most effectively rendered.

    Photo by Tasha Gorel

    BEST DIRECTOR OF A MUSICAL
    Winner: Matt Hune for Spring Awakening (Rec Room Arts)

    No one knows how to make a small space feel momentous like Matt Hune.

    Last year, the Rec Room Artistic Director was nominated for directing an enchantingly vast Neverland landscape in the company’s production of Peter Pan. This year, he one-upped himself by taking a brash Broadway musical, massaging it onto the tiny Rec Room stage and achieving the seemingly impossible – a show that felt both intimate, gargantuan, and just plain better than other iterations we’ve seen.

    Hune’s love of letting his actors shine was abundantly evident in this production, which featured mostly new performers to Rec Room. The standouts were almost too plentiful to count and the synergy Hune elicited from his talented cast made it seem like a group with a long, successful history of making theatrical magic together.

    And that scaffold staircase! Seemingly floating up to the darkly lit heavens, it anchored the production and Hune’s action for the show. The cast ascended, descended, flanked, sat, lay, stomped, grinded, and wailed on those stairs like it was a beloved home. It was a finely tuned visual jigsaw that Hune superbly utilized to expand and enrich our view.

    To say staging this show in this space was a risk is an understatement. We can only imagine Hune’s directorial challenge once the choice was made. And while we can’t fathom how he does it, we do know that this year we are ever so thankful he did it so darn well.

    Finalists: Melissa Rain Anderson for Little Shop of Horrors (Theatre Under The Stars) and Lisa Shriver for Waitress (Theatre Under The Stars and The 5th Avenue Theatre).

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    Timothy Eric and Brandon Morgan play brothers living on the edge, handicapped by wounds never resolved.

    Photo by Gabriella Nissen

    BEST DIRECTOR OF A PLAY
    Winner: Aaron Brown for Topdog/Underdog (4th Wall Theatre Co.)

    Aaron Brown teaches Topdog/Underdog in his classes at Texas State University. What he has always really liked about the play is the layers it unveils as it tells the story of two brothers who are never able to overcome their early lives, sabotaged by a terrible pair of parents.

    “There is no clear final moral, final lesson from the play. Really [playwright Suzan-Lori Parks] is challenging us to find the humanity in these two characters.”

    He took that same approach when he started rehearsals for Topdog/Underdog at 4th Wall with Brandon Morgan and Timothy Eric. “Who are these people? What leads them to this moment that this audience is witnessing?” Also: “We’re all having conversations about ‘Why are you saying that now?’ You all have been living together for months. ‘So why are we having this conversation now?’”

    While he was part of the audition process in which they saw a lot of talented actors, interestingly enough, Morgan and Eric were never able to audition together. Brown worked with them both separately. But it took  a leap of faith to cast them before he’d seen how they could work together.  And as clearly reflected in our Best Actors and Best Play Awards this year, it worked.

    The years Brown has spent thinking about and teaching Topdog/Underdog paid off in the way he was able to direct the play.  As he noted in an interview with the Houston Press last February:

    “You don’t have to be a hero. You don’t have to be a ‘good person’ to have your story told. Many of us are a product of our parents, of our legacy, of our traumas, and we’re trying to do the best we can. In this play, we see two brothers who are trying to cope with trauma that they never really got to heal from, and now, as adults, what do traumatized adults do when they feel like they’re backed into a corner? We don’t necessarily have to agree with those actions, but we can leave the theater with an understanding of why they did what they did. And maybe hope to create a world in which those aren’t the only options for people we meet in the world today.”

    Wow. Besides awarding Brown Best Director of a Play honors this year, we’re ready to go back to college and sign up for his classes.

    Finalists: Malinda L. Beckham for Bug and Race (Dirt Dogs Theatre Co.), Jennifer Dean for Swing State and Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike (4th Wall Theatre Co.), Jason Nodler for Spirits to Enforce (The Catastrophic Theatre), Weston Twardowski for Spill (Moody Center for the Arts at Rice University), Kim Tobin-Lehl for Bedlam’s Hamlet (4th Wall Theatre Co.), Brandon Weinbrenner for Noises Off (Alley Theatre) and Allie Woods, Jr. for Camp Logan (The Ensemble Theatre).

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    Faith Fossett and Pamela Vogel in Swing State at 4th Wall.

    Photo by Gabriella Nissen

    BEST ARTISTIC DIRECTOR
    Winner: Jennifer Dean (4th Wall Theatre Co.)

    No, that’s not Jennifer Dean in the above photo looking tired and exhausted. That’s Pamela Vogel in her role as Peg in Swing State at 4th Wall Theatre Co., one of two reasons she won Best Actress for the 2024-25 season.

    But it almost could be Dean when you consider all the work she’s done in her first full year as Artistic Director for 4th Wall (co-founders and former artistic directors Philip Lehl and Kim Tobin-Lehl, while still involved with the theater, have handed over the reins to her).

    With a sure eye for what makes a strong season, she gave us the laughter of Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike and the serious and absorbing Swing State. Then there was Bedlam’s Hamlet, which made the same old, same old new and bright. And Topdog/Underdog, a tour de force for Houston actors Timothy Eric and Brandon Morgan.

    She stepped into the director’s role for Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike and Swing State with what theater reviewers like to call a sure hand. This isn’t the first time one of the plays she’s directed has been awarded honors. In early 2020, she directed The Realistic Joneses for 4th Wall, which went on to win Best Play and Best Ensemble and nab her the Best Director award.

    It clearly helps that she acts as well (The Pavilion at 4th Wall in 2023) giving her a good understanding of what makes actors thrive in any production.

    Excellent play selection coupled with a strong ability to cast the right actors combined to make her first season as artistic director a standout one. The Best Artistic Director category was a very competitive one this year (as usual). But it was impossible to ignore what this theater veteran was able to accomplish given the helm for the first time. We look forward to a lot more.

    Finalists: Malinda L. Beckham (Dirt Dogs Theatre Co.) and Matt Hune (Rec Room Arts).

    click to enlarge

    Kim Tobin-Lehl and David Gow in Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike at 4th Wall Theatre Co.

    Photo by Gabriella Nissen

    BEST SEASON
    Winner: 4th Wall Theatre Co.

    The phrase “perfect season” is not one to be thrown around lightly, but when it comes to 4th Wall Theatre Co. this year, let us make the case.

    By now, you’ve read much about 4th Wall’s blistering production of Suzan-Lori Parks’ Topdog/Underdog, this year’s winner of Best Play/Production, and its cast and crew, including Best Director of a Play winner Aaron Brown and the joint winners of Best Actor, Timothy Eric and Brandon Morgan.  But though Topdog/Underdog proved to be the brightest star in the sky this season, the rest of 4th Wall’s season captivatingly sparkled, too.

    The season started with Swing State, Rebecca Gilman’s intimate four-hander that situates the politics implied by its title on a human level, exploring the effects of COVID, grief, addiction and recovery, and threats to the environment. Best Artistic Director winner Jennifer Dean, who directed this production approached it with clear eyes and gentle hands, placing the utmost trust in her superb cast, led by Best Actress winner Pamela Vogel. The result was timely and bruisingly honest naturalism, all set against Ryan McGettigan’s award-winning set, a salt-of-the-earth, lived-in Wisconsin farmhouse.

    Dean returned to direct Christopher Durang’s farcical and Chekhovian Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike, an achingly funny crowd-pleaser with episodes of dysfunction and absurdity that reveal the play’s heart, where we find all-too-familiar regrets and fears beating wildly. Once again, it’s a play made for a talented ensemble, and once again, 4th Wall assembled a dream team. Of special note is Philip Lehl’s second-act rant as Vanya, easily one of the best and most memorable moments we saw on stage all season.

    Bedlam’s Hamlet closed the season, and if you’re tired of hearing us praise the company’s ensemble work, well, you’re about to be exhausted. That’s because the cast again amazed us, shape-shifting their way through Bedlam’s stripped-down approach to The Bard. It was a masterfully minimalist, precision operation overseen by Director Kim Tobin-Lehl, which made every second of the three-hour-long show worth every minute. And, of course, as the Prince of Denmark, Wesley Whitson delivered quite the feat, gifting us with another of the season’s stand-out performances.

    If it’s not obvious, we’re running out of superlatives to throw at 4th Wall, and you know what? We wouldn’t have it any other way. As such, our congratulations goes to 4th Wall Theatre Co., this year’s winner of Best Season.

    Finalists: Dirt Dog Theatre Co. and Rec Room Arts.

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    D. L. Groover

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  • Cheyenne Jackson Brings Signs of Life to Houston’s Hobby Center

    Cheyenne Jackson Brings Signs of Life to Houston’s Hobby Center

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    Saying he wanted to branch out beyond concerts and cabaret work, performer Cheyenne Jackson (American Horror Story, Glee) explained how he came to write “a riskier” act that not only showcases his singing talents but allows his audiences to know so much more about him.

    “I felt much more exposed, I felt much more connected with the audience,” he says. “The idea for the show was really based on something my dad taught me very early on  and that is to look for the signs. The signs of life, the signs from God or the universe or nature. Signs that you are where you’re supposed to be and you’re doing what you are supposed to be doing. That’s the kind of skeleton if it but then I fill it with all kinds of crazy stuff.

    Jackson is coming to the Hobby Center’s Zilkha Hall as part of the Beyond Broadway series for one night only with his show Cheyenne Jackson: Signs of Life. With credits that include  Call Me Kat as well as the Saved By The Bell revival, American Horror Story: Apocalypse and Disney’s Descendants 3, is known as a versatile performer

    Part of the Beyond Broadway series lineup, the show was written by Jackson as a long form cabaret. He says the reception has been so good that he plans to continue with this program.

    “I think people maybe didn’t expect it to be so personal and didn’t expect it to be so open. And I believe that in order to really maintain a connection you have to go first as a performer. So right off the top of the show I take the wind out of myself. And this really shows them that we’re going to be in this thing together and the reaction’s been great.”

    I talk about my kids. My kids are hysterical and they’re going to be 8 next week. My husband and I have twins, a boy and a girl. Father hood adventures. I also talk about moving to New York and what that was like. I talk about my late great friend Leslie Jordan who passed a couple of years ago. It seems a little scattery, but it’s not. There’s a method to my madness.

    Asked why he had children with such a busy life as a performer, Jackson says: “All I ever wanted was to have kids. I just needed to find the right person. I met my husband 12 years ago at 39. So we met and about a year and a half later we were married and had kids on the way. It’s incredible.”

    “I play this character Hades in Disney movie The Descendants so that carries a lot of weight with 8 and 9 year olds. As for the other things I’ve done, not impressed.”

    During the show he does a little bit of everything. It’s me telling stores and singing some of my favorite songs and talking about like and lessons I’ve learned and telling a bunch of jokes. There’s elements of stand up comedy in it as well. I was not professionally trained as a singer. I was trained by just listening to all types of music always. And I think because of that it really gave me this edge up to kind of sing anything.”

    Asked for his favorite songs he says it’s a range. “I do a version of Lady Gaga’s “Edge of Glory.” I do a song by Sam  Smith. I sing a song from the Broadway musical The Full Monty which I really love, has a lot of personal meaning. I sing a song that I wrote, that also seems to be an emotional highlight of the show from people who talk to me afterwards. It’s a song I wrote about my dad. I sing some classic stuff. I sing “Besame Mucho.” So there’s kind of something for everybody.”

    He calls the song about his father a very simple song, a song thait’s combined with a story about the coach wanting me to go out ofor the football team and it was definitely something I did not want to do. , It’s about a conversation between me and my dad. It just has become this moment that most people come up and talk to me afterwards. It’s called ‘OK.’”

    His audiences range in age, he says, from those who know him through The Descendants to a gay following to an older demographic. “People that love a throwback. It’s been written about me that I was born perhaps in the wrong era and I definitely have an old fashioned kind of vibe in how I sound and how I look,

    “But I look out there and I see people of all different everything “

    Cheyenne Jackson’s performance is scheduled for October 26 at 7:30 p.m. in Zilka Hall at the Hobby Center, 800 Bagby. For more information, call 713-315-7625 or visit hobbycenter.org. $44-$247.

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    Margaret Downing

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  • Direction and Actors Save Mamet’s Race from its Own Shortcomings

    Direction and Actors Save Mamet’s Race from its Own Shortcomings

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    All David Mamet plays are a symphony of quippy dialogue and playful profanity. Plays like American Buffalo (1975) and Glengarry Glen Ross (1984) established Mamet’s style: how a writer acutely aware of how language — spoken or unspoken — can reveal the true intentions and underlying beliefs of his characters.

    Few would describe those characters as likable or relatable, but many could walk away from those plays knowing exactly who the characters were and the world that created them.

    Unfortunately, Mamet’s later works lack this attention to character that made his earlier works stand out. Instead, Mamet’s previous acumen for dynamic characters gives way to a predilection for ideological arguments about race, gender, and politics. Say goodbye to character and welcome to debate. Say goodbye to drama and say hello to talking points.

    In Race (2009), a privileged white man claims he’s been falsely accused of raping a black woman. Cue the Left and the Right. No facts required.

    Dirt Dogs Theatre Co.’s Artistic Director, Malinda L. Beckham injects enough dramatic tension into the production to make up for a script that lacks conflict and credibility. And despite the plot misfires, the actors deliver engaging performances that almost surmount the material they’re given.

    Susan (Ashlyn Evans) is a smart and competent new attorney at the law firm yet makes mistakes that only seem plausible if they were done by a doe-eyed receptionist straight out of high school.

    Charles Strickland (Aaron Alford) is a wealthy and privileged man who is buffoonishly naive. Toward the end of the play, he errs in such a bewildering way that it’s highly improbable it was done on accident. Yet, I am to believe it was.

    Jack Lawson (Jay Sullivan) is a pragmatic attorney who resents racial preference laws and makes sweeping generalizations about White-Black racial relations yet his law partner is a black man, Henry Brown (Andraes Hunt). It’s difficult to believe that he carries such vague prejudices when his main co-worker is a black man. How can Lawson opine with such cocksureness about black people when his co-worker doesn’t reflect what he says?

    Give up on the play making sense. Characters behave and do things simply so that discussions about race and who can talk about race can take place. The answer is always white people can’t talk about race, yet for some reason, both white characters talk plenty about race and share loudly what presumptions they’ve made about people such as Jews and African Americans.

    Race fails to provide any unique insights. If it does, it’s hidden by an improbable plot and a purposefully inflammatory premise that presupposes controversy without providing evidence.

    To believe that a wealthy white man would face such an insurmountable opposition in the legal system just because he is white and the accuser is black seems like a tall order. Do class, gender and racial biases no longer exist?

    Again, director Beckham is able to save some of this with deft direction. Having the audience on opposite sides of the stage highlights the black and white position of how arguments on race can be expressed.

    It, also, makes the conversations that take place on stage feel more like listening in on private thoughts. This production works fiercely to keep the audience engaged in what the story of this play is.

    Very few facts of what actually did occur between the accused and the accuser are revealed. Despite the accused being on stage, the script never tells what happened that night in the hotel room. Instead, affidavits from eyewitnesses are peppered throughout the story as the truth of what may have happened changes with each new account.

    In critical moments where a new source of information is revealed, swelling and sustained chords (sound design by Trevor B. Cone) or the lights would shift colors (lighting by John Baker) to punctuate the importance. These design cues provide intrigue because they call attention to the fact that this play does have the ability to captivate as a mystery or thriller when the characters aren’t parroting ordinary observations of race in America.

    The tight blocking and movement of characters visually express the power dynamics between characters where a detail as small as which character sits and which one stands becomes a source of interest.

    The acting fires on all cylinders. Sullivan, once warmed up, plays the shrewd and morally ambiguous attorney who delivers the most clinical and impersonal observations about race, yet it’s clear that race is a matter he takes very personally.

    Sullivan projects an overwhelming confidence of how race works when he’s confronted toward the end by his new hire that all the contradictions, hypocrisies and absurdity of his behavior comes to the surface. His body caves in like he knows he’s wrong, yet this character is one who can never admit his faults.

    The way Sullivan conveys his guilt without confessing to any shame is thrilling to watch. His performance is engaging, and he complements all the other actors on stage.

    While both Sullivan and Hunt play cynical and jaded lawyers, Hunt is more measured in his estimations of how the legal system works and the role race plays in this case. Whereas Sullivan waxes on about race with broad strokes, Hunt has more precise observations due to the fact he is a Black man.

    His personal beliefs about race diverge from his professional responsibilities to defend his client as innocent and Hunt navigates those tensions without any strain.

    Alford peppers his performance with the right amount of indifference for someone who has enough money to buy himself out of any conflict yet also with a certain level of naivety that volleys between being sincere or manipulative.

    There’s a moment toward the end where Alford’s voice (body positioned away due to the stage setup) feels so earnest and apologetic that maybe one starts to believe that he is innocent after all. His remorse is palpable, yet was it real?

    Race continues through Nov 2 at 7:30 p.m. Thursdays, 8 p.m Fridays, Saturdays, 2  p.m Sundays, and 7:30 p.m Monday, October 28, Industry Night at Dirt Dogs Theatre Co., at MATCH, 3400 Main. For more information, call 713-521-4533 or visit dirtdogstheatre.org. $30.

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    Ada Alozie

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  • Employing Magical Thinking to Get Past the Crushing Loss of Loved Ones at Main Street Theater

    Employing Magical Thinking to Get Past the Crushing Loss of Loved Ones at Main Street Theater

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    It’s a play about grief that’s unsentimental and easy to absorb and so personal. That’s how Pamela Vogel describes The Year of Magical Thinking about to open at Main Street Theater.

    Based on the National Book Award winning book of the same title by renowned author Joan Didion (Slouching Towards Bethlehem, Play It As It Lays, The White Album) the play relates Didion’s feelings as they are happening as her husband dies suddenly and unexpectedly and her daughter is seriously ill and hospitalized.

    Her daughter Quintana Roo would die before the book was published at age 39. Unlike the book, her daughter’s death is included in the play.

    Vogel, who is just coming off a strong leading role in Swing Shift at 4th Wall Theatre Co., didn’t hesitate to take on another demanding role so quickly. “I’m really thrilled to step into the role and asked to take it on. I was very lucky,” Vogel says.

    Didion herself transformed her book into a play. Vogel is the only person on stage throughout the one-act which is directed by Main Street’s Artistic Director Rebecca Greene Udden. “We have this character Joan actively telling her story. It’s not a memory play. She’s telling me this right now. She’s just stepped into a space where you can imagine one or a hundred are listening. It doesn’t matter. It’s very personal.”

    Vogel took a deep dive into Didion’s writing and the author herself. “I read Play It As It Lays. And then there’s a documentary on Netflix that was put together by Griffin Dunne [nephew of John Gregory Dunne and Didion]. So I had done this deep dive. Into her. I came prepared to look at her condensation of her own work, It’s not like she shortened it. She just made it theatrical.”

    Asked if she’d ever experienced a loss like Didion had, Vogel responds:

    “To lose two family members in the same span of time is very hard. I would say in our own country, in our own world, there’s probably more people close to us who have lost people in the last two, three years.  whether it be COVID or these natural disasters. My mother is in a very fire part of the country and here I am in a very flood part of the country. And we both have people who have experienced trauma. And we have family members who’ve been displaced. So that kind of elevated trauma is in my life. But the death of two family members, no. But it’s certainly relatable.

    “She talks about how life changes in the instant, in the ordinary instant. I think her point in the ordinary. She doesn’t come from a place of fear. She’s resting and is in a place of stability and gets rocked,” Vogel says. “‘This will happen to you. It happened to me’ is her opening. The money doesn’t protect you. The fame doesn’t protect you. We’re all so vulnerable.

    “How lovely to love and be loved. But the excruciating loss is so huge that it cannot be escaped. And somehow we survive through it. She looks for ways to survive in her magical thinking. And during the course of the evening she lets go of that. You think it’s going to be how she pretends her way out. But no, she uses magical thinking to go into it and come out. So all of that is a journey through something, not a memory of something that already happened and I solved.”

    Asked why she wanted to do the role, Vogel says:

    “Because the character is so wise. It’s gift for me as an actor to play someone that wise. I love being able to speak so that the audience receives it. You can’t talk at the audience. You have to speak so that you give it away.  It’s a very exquisitely written way of doing that. Your experience is successful when you see that people are understanding.

    “It’s not meant to be a therapy session;.it’s’ a character that we watch,” Vogel says. “She moves around the stage, lots of standing and walking through. It’s movement in order to reach the audience.” Vogel wants people to know that the play also is funny. “She’s dry, entertaining. how could this be but it is.

    “This is really going to grip you and will be beautifully staged to manifest all those things. It’s aggressive; Joan Didion was aggressive as a writer  I love it, as a woman. How do we step into clarity and demand and our own protection and our own opinion expressed instead of not expressed and sharing in a way. Yes it’s teaching but it’s not. It’s not that sort of motherly thing where I’m going to teach you a lesson. She’s going through something.”

    Performances are scheduled for October 19 through November 17 at 7:30 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays and 3 p.m. Sundays at Main Street Theatre – Rice Village, 2540 Times Boulevard. For more information, call  713-524-6706 or visit mainstreettheater.com. $45-$64.

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    Margaret Downing

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  • The Beautiful Sounds of Rachmaninoff and the Tsar at Stages Theater

    The Beautiful Sounds of Rachmaninoff and the Tsar at Stages Theater

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    To the haunting, wordless, and ethereal sound of solo soprano accompanied by a caressing orchestra, Sergei Rachmaninoff’s Vocalise ushers us into a lush garden of birch trees bordered by flowers, two simple benches on the grass, and a perfectly proportioned house in the background.

    Into this dreamscape wanders the iconic Russian composer, conductor, and legendary pianist, looking a bit forlorn and slightly frayed around the edges. He tells us he’s in a morphine haze, dying from melanoma. We are in his beloved garden in his house in Hollywood. The drugs make him hazy, make him remember, and take him back to the Russia of his youth.

    The atmosphere, the setting, the sheer beauty of the music allows us to fall quickly under the spell of Hershey Felder’s musical bio, Rachmaninoff and the Tsar, the latest play from this accomplished concert pianist, author, actor, and filmmaker. His former romps through the great composers have included Beethoven, Liszt, Chopin, Gershwin, Bernstein, Berlin. Felder’s one-man shows have introduced us to these titans of music, allowing them to shine through stories, correspondence, archival source material, and most importantly, their music.

    With charm, finesse, and astonishing piano prowess, Felder brings them up close and personal. He also has a catalog of films that run the gamut from Puccini, Debussy, Verdi, Tchaikovsky, Puccini, Mozart, even Klezmer.

    But here, he adds another character into his drama, Tsar Nicholas II, the hapless, tragic last of the Romanovs, assassinated by the Bolsheviks with his family in 1917. Jonathan Silvestri gives off sparks in this role, righteously bellowing his God-given right to be ruler of Mother Russia while also being blind to the miseries inflicted upon his people by his infuriating noblesse oblige. He softens considerably when reminiscing about his youngest daughter.

    Felder unearths a little-known tale about Rachmaninoff. After he left Russia during the Revolution, already internationally famous for his Prelude in C# minor, Symphony #2, and his titanic Piano Concertos #1, #2, and #3, he toured Europe and America as a famed conductor and pianist. But he never felt at home outside Russia. Living in New York, he heard the story of Anna Tchaikovsky, a mental patient in Berlin who claimed to be the surviving daughter of Nicholas and Czarina Alexandra, spirited out of Russia after the alleged botched killing in Yekaterinburg. This was sensational news around the world. Although Rachmaninoff doubted the woman’s fantasies, he helped arrange her passage to America where he hoped she would receive better medical care. His love of Russia and his incredible homesickness tinged his decision.

    Blaming Nicholas for the Revolution because of his disregard for his people, Rachmaninoff also blamed the father for the fate of his daughter. So Felder’s play puts these two in opposition – to music, love of family, duty to country. It’s an intriguing premise but only for so long. When Rachmaninoff’s career travels past the ‘20s and Anna’s story is debunked, Silvestri in his handsome military uniform is relegated to his park bench as he sits and listens while Felder regales us with Rachmaninoff’s ultra-romantic and intricate music. Nicky doesn’t have much to do, except to become a visual reminder of Rachmaninoff’s pining for long-ago Russia. He could just as easily walk out of the garden. I’m not sure what more could be done with him, but Felder doesn’t seem to know either.

    If the drama is somewhat manufactured, Felder’s live performance is shattering and inspiring. Rachmaninoff was revered as the world’s preeminent pianist. He was also its highest paid, and his music was (and still is) beloved for its sweeping lyricism, dynamic outbursts, chromatic coloring, and technical precociousness. It is fiendishly difficult to play. Felder brushes this off with deceptive ease. He relishes the show-offishness of Rachmaninoff. He loves this music. And we love his playing of it.

    So when the drama lacks a bit of punch, does it matter that much when the music is so good? There are sequences when Felder plays against a recorded orchestral background as images project behind the set. Scenes of the Revolution, Rasputin, the Tsar’s family – poached from Felder’s movie version Nicholas, Anna, and Sergei – add depth to the story and augment the already neo-romantic dreamy mood.

    Rachmaninoff’s music carries us away. Felder has him say right up front, I love three things: Russia, my garden, and composing. When he left Russia in 1917, he never returned. He curtailed his composing to concentrate on solo performing and conducting. He became rich and revered, but he always looked back with regret at what had been. Hear what he lost in this musical look into his soul.

    Rachmaninoff and the Tsar continues through October 20. at 7 p.m. Tuesdays through Saturdays. and 2 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays at Stages, 800 Rosine. For more information, call 713-527-0123 or visit stageshouston.com. $49-$88.

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    D. L. Groover

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  • Alley Theatre Managing Director Dean Gladden Announces Retirement

    Alley Theatre Managing Director Dean Gladden Announces Retirement

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    When Hurricane Harvey struck and much of the lower levels of Alley Theatre were under water and out of power including the elevators, Dean Gladden walked up 16 flights of stairs in the dark carrying the server, to IT and finance so payroll could get out on time.

    The flooding, which wasn’t supposed to happen after costly renovations completed in October 2015 ($46.5 million) was just one more unexpected hurdle to be negotiated for Gladden  who is more or less a walking history book of challenges, adversities and triumphs for the Alley over the last almost two decades.

    Tuesday, Gladden announced he is retiring by the end of June 2025 after 19 years at the Alley as Managing Director.  What he wants to be remembered for, he said in an interview with the Houston Press, is that he has always worked to support the arts.

    “The most important thing is supporting the artistic product. And every major capital campaign that we’ve done has as a priority investing in the artistic product. The second would be the renovation of the theater and all the technical capabilities that we can now do that we couldn’t do before.

    “To have a real fly loft, to have real side stages to have a trap room, all that has made a difference and the theater is more intimate than it was before. The relationship of the actor to the audience is much more intimate.” Theater acoustics got a big upgrade as well, he said, adding that the old acoustics “were terrible.”

    It was the Alley Theatre’s need for an upgrade that first brought Gladden to Houston, to oversee a big capital campaign to renovate the theater. .

    “We [Gladden and his wife Jane] had just become empty nesters in Cleveland. And I’d been at the Cleveland Playhouse for 20 years. So I said to Jane, ‘I think it’s time for a new adventure.’ So we came down.

    “We kicked off the campaign in the fall of 2008. Just as the market collapsed,” he deadpans. “We were not going to raise any money in 2008, 2009. So what we did was we pulled back the campaign and then we spent more time on planning the construction project. We had a good three and a half years under our belt of planning.”

    Once they finally got the needed funds and the final go-ahead for the extensive renovation of the theater, they had 14 months to get the work done.

    “Think about that. $46-and-a-half million you’re going to spend. You’re going to leave the roof open during hurricane season. And you’ve got to get that building  done,” Gladden remembered. “And we did it on time and on budget and paid for it with no debt.

    “So no, you can’t panic when things happen. You just can’t.”

    click to enlarge

    Gladden in hard hat walking a group through the extensive renovations underway in 2015 at Alley Theatre.

    Photo by Margaret Downing

    All staff — front of house and back of house — had been consulted on what their dream theater would look like. The result was 24 pages of a single-spaced wish list, Gladden said. There was careful consideration of how to avoid the flooding devastation caused by Tropical Storm Allison in its two sweeps through the city in 2001.

    However, two years after the renovations, those protections put in place were no match for the massive downpour created during  Hurricane Harvey which did $26 million in damage, concentrated in the lower level Neuhaus Theatre as well as thousands of props, dressing rooms and the lobby section. The world premiere of Rajiv Joseph’s Describe the Night  had to be moved off site and its destroyed set had to be rebuilt.

    Gladden got on the phone to University of Houston officials and was able to secure the use of the small theater at UH so the show could go on.  “We built the set in a few days. We premiered that play  and it went to New York and that November it won the Obie for Best New Play in America. If we hadn’t gotten that show up then they would have premiered it and we wouldn’t have gotten the credit.

    “We got in here two days after [Harvey hit] and found out if was flooded and were completely surprised because Allison had come in through the tunnels and we had a submarine door so I didn’t expect that we’d have a problem,. But it came in a different way and flooded 15 feet high in the basement and ten feet high in the theater. And all of our new electrical through the building.

    “So the first thing we did was hire immediately on that Monday Bellows [Construction] the general contractor and all the subs so we could beat everybody else in town. We had them all under contract that first day. That was the most important thing.”

    Other details followed. The staff would have to relocate. “I’ve got like 80 people in offices  I have to move,” Gladden said. He was the head of the Convention and Visitors Bureau at the time and knew they had moved their offices to the Houston First building. So they had all these empty offices “We did a deal. We moved in on Tuesday after Labor Day weekend.”

    “And then we were able to get Blackmon Mooring to come and start pumping us out. on Tuesday. And by Thursday you could at least slosh through the building and see what the damage was. At the first meeting with the Alley’s board of directors a week later, Gladden appealed for help in reaching General Electric to get their electrical system redone and were able to get things accomplished in six weeks instead of the normal three months, he said.  And getting all that done by Thanksgiving weekend so we could open Christmas Carol.”

    In 2018, Gladden was the face of the Alley when he issued a statement apologizing for the theater not being transparent about the abrupt departure of former Artistic Director Gregory Boyd. The Alley had declined to answer questions about why Boyd suddenly left even though he had several years left on his contract. What came to light was that there had been accusations from several actresses and staff that Boyd had engaged in abusive behavior and had made unwanted sexual advances to some. Gladden promised a change in how the theater dealt with workplace complaints in the future.

    And then there was COVID-19 which by March 2020 suspended artistic operations throughout town. During the two years that followed Gladden is credited by the Alley with retaining as many employees as possible even though there was no income. Members of its Resident Acting Company maintained year-round employment which according to the Alley were the only Actors Equity members to do so at any regional or Broadway theater in this country.

    On Tuesday, the Alley put out a press statement that included a long list of financial achievements during the years Gladden has been managing director. When he came to the Alley the Houston theater was facing an $800,000 deficit. “The Alley now boasts financial reserves exceeding $5 million.” The operating budget has doubled. Its Summer Chills murder mystery series has increased its annual revenue by 370 percent from 2007 to 2024.

    Alley Artistic Director Rob Melrose wrote: ““I feel so lucky to have worked in partnership with Dean Gladden these past six years. Dean retires as a true legend in the American Theatre, having expertly guided the Alley through some of the most challenging times imaginable including a hurricane and a global pandemic. As his partner, I have benefited greatly from his unwavering support of the art, his commitment to fiscal responsibility, his passion for pushing himself and his teammates to new heights, his tireless fundraising, as well as his strategic mind. He deeply cares about the Alley, and I know that even after his retirement, he will continue to be the Alley’s lifelong friend and greatest advocate.”

    Acknowledging that few people decide they’ll get into the business side of the arts when they are children, Gladden recounted his somewhat winding path that got him to where he is today. He was a music major— a percussionist —  with a bachelor’s degree in music education from Miami University in Ohio. He managed a couple bands: a Dixieland band and a black ties band that played the society circuit. While in college he heard a campus speaker talk about arts management, something that had never occurred to him before. He decided he could be an orchestra manager.

    He ended up doing an internship in Erie, PA. From there, he became executive director of the Arts Council of Lima, Ohio. He moved on to Director of the Arts Commission in Toledo. Then he got a call from a person with the Great Lakes Shakespeare Festival who asked him if he’d ever thought about getting into the theater business.

    “I said no but I knew I needed to get into a single discipline. I knew I needed to get out of the arts council business because I’d almost peaked.” A couple moves later and by the time he was 32 he was managing director of the Cleveland Playhouse where he stayed for 20 years before coming to Houston.

    With about eight months to go, he’s not quite done making deals and strategizing. He’s still working on the $80 million Vison for the Future campaign, by which the Alley hopes to increase its endowment from $12 million in 2009 to $62 million.

    The Alley has already launched a search for his successor. Asked about how someone will come in with all the history and connections he has made, Gladden didn’t seem too concerned. He said he learned along the way, bringing his past experiences (the Cleveland theater flooded once so he already knew about pumping water out of a building) and he watched and listened to the Houston community. He expects the person who follows will do something similar.

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    Margaret Downing

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  • Swing State With Four Capital Performances at 4th Wall

    Swing State With Four Capital Performances at 4th Wall

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    Before Rebecca Gilman’s Swing State begins, the lights are on at 4th Wall Theatre. We can observe Ryan McGettigan’s detailed and comfy farmhouse set. Look around and you spy the ubiquitous coffee maker, a jumbled desk off to the side, the milk glass light fixtures, a dining table with grandma chairs, a screen door which will bang shut like all screen doors do, an old porcelain mixing bowl on top of the refrigerator.

    But what catches your eye is a chef’s knife resting on the butcher block cutting board. It’s not highlighted, it’s not even center stage, but something tells us this is something important. Immediately, we think of Chekhov’s famed directive: if a gun is seen in Act I, it had better go off in Act II. No extraneous details should mar the script.

    When the play begins, Peg (the remarkably accomplished Pamela Vogel) is chopping walnuts for her zucchini bread. She seems distracted, a bit off. She stops for a moment and runs her fingers across the blade. She puts the tip against her wrist. We hold our breath. Then she holds the sharp point near her eye. What is she going to do?

    In less time than it takes to describe the action, Gilman has us in the palm of her hand. The knife doesn’t turn out to be Chekhov’s gun, that will later turn out to be another weapon – an actual gun. The great Norwegian playwright had it right the first time. In this inaugural production for its 14th season, 4th Wall does it exceptionally right.

    Gilman’s drama from 2022 swirls lightly with themes of COVID, environmental catastrophe, a bit of Blue State/Red State prickliness, and an overwhelming sense of loss and being out of joint. While not overly political, although the title might lead you to think so, Gilman has created (Spinning Into Butter, Luna Gale) what in theater circles is known as “the well-made play.” This genre’s gone out of fashion recently, but, when done with such meticulous precision as Gilman wields, her blade cuts deep and clean. In this four-character study, coincidences pile up, reversals are disclosed with crisp dramatic timing, and characters talk like real people. We’re drawn into the story as if lured by a fabled Siren.

    Peg is a widow who lives on a patch of wild prairie in Wisconsin. A former guidance counselor at the local high school, she’s feisty, woke, a sort of old-timey pioneer, and a lover of the wilderness who catalogs the disappearance of the natural world. Bees, bats, butterflies, even her beloved wildflowers are decreasing with alarming regularity. Could it be her neighbor’s pesticide runoff that is infecting her paradise? Will she be around to see the inevitable destruction? Does she want to be?

    click to enlarge

    Wesley Whitson and Faith Fossett in Swing State.

    Photo by Gabriella Nissen

    Her young friend Ryan (Wesley Whitson, phenomenal as usual) fresh out of prison and working as a handyman for her while driving a delivery truck in a mindless job, challenges her at every step. “You’re a real ray of sunshine,” he mocks as she rattles off nature’s depletion. He senses something’s wrong with his old friend, his only friend. Something isn’t right. He knows the “tell” she gives off when lying. She dodges, he parries, and she dodges again. Ryan loves the land as much as Peg, but after years in prison he just can’t seem to trust. It’s a fascinating and real interplay between them.

    When sheriff Kris (Christy Watkins, a former Houston Theater Award-winning Best Actress) learns of the theft of Peg’s cherished belongings, her suspicion naturally turns to Ryan. Previously, she blamed him for the death of her son from a fentanyl overdose at a drunken party at Ryan’s house. She refuses to be charitable. Peg will hear none of these accusations against Ryan, but suspicions gnaw at her. Depuy Dani (Faith Fossett, a young Houston theater bright light), niece of Kris and Ryan’s old school buddy, is a newbie on the job and wants to believe Ryan’s denials, but she will eventually become the unwitting sword of injustice.

    Everybody shines in this intimate drama which is a welcome throwback to social plays from yesteryear. We admire the characters, root for them in spite of their faults, and pray for their redemption, if not happiness. Perhaps “moving on” is good enough.

    Director Jennifer Dean, 4th Wall’s new artistic director, supplies the nuances beneath the kitchen-sink drama, and leads her actors with easy naturalness. She lets them free to be. The ensemble couldn’t be better. Vogel plays flinty and stalwart with an undercurrent of holding back. She listens when other actors speak to her, you can see it in her face. She “tells” directly to us – and to them. Something is boiling beneath, though, when she drops her water bottle, when she commands Ryan to breathe while he’s melting down, when she counts the flower seeds for planting as if she alone can rescue the world. Her Peg is replete with details that say everything.

    Whitson, of course, knows exactly what he’s doing. A natural actor, there’s nothing false or forced about him. Just sit back and relax, he’ll lead you to discover his character with telling details and a disarming insouciance. When he thinks Peg has betrayed him, his breakdown is immensely affecting. You, too, want to walk him back from the ledge.

    Watkins etches Kris’ disdain and insufferable stoicism with her impressive command of the stage. She won’t let you like her character. And Fossett’s open face and auburn-haired innocence is perfect for Dani’s overwhelmed position on the police force. Dani is learning on the job, and her youthfulness may be her undoing.

    Gilman’s play roars through 90 minutes and continually surprises with its trenchant observations that make us laugh, yet catch us by the throat at the end. Maybe it’s the chirping of birds throughout Yezminne Zepada’s subtle soundscape or Rosa Cano’s atmospheric lighting, but environment devastation, political divide, or neighborly feuds take second place to people’s ultimate concern for each other. I’d say we should have seen it coming, but that knife on the kitchen counter tells all. Just don’t trust what you see. Gilman and Chekhov know better.

    Swing State continues through October 5 at 7:30 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays; and 3 p.m. Sundays at Spring Street Studios, 1824 Spring Street. For more information, call 832-767-4991 or visit 4thwalltheatreco.com. $17-$52. Monday, September 30, Pay-What-You-Can.

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    D. L. Groover

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  • The Tempest Gets Telemarketing Treatment in Spirits to Enforce

    The Tempest Gets Telemarketing Treatment in Spirits to Enforce

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    When it was suggested that cuts to arts funding could financially support Britain’s World War II effort, it’s alleged that Winston Churchill rebuffed, “Then what would we be fighting for?”

    A great, if utterly unsubstantiated story, that warms the hearts of artists everywhere. After all, what is the world without the arts and by necessity, money to fund its creation? If only those in power felt this importance and acted accordingly.

    Unfortunately, any artist who’s scraped tooth and nail to fund a production knows that few of those in power are willing to open the coffers.

    Spoofing this reality is no doubt the seed in Mickle Maher’s one-act play, Spirits to Enforce, now receiving a robust production at Catastrophic Theatre. But like all Maher’s work, the seed of the play unfolds and blooms into something else entirely onstage, resulting in deliciously ludicrous double-meaning and wildly imaginative conceit.

    In Spirits, we get not only Maher’s brand of super wild, we get his superhero treatment as well.

    click to enlarge

    Cold calls from superheroes.

    Photo by Anthony Rathburn

    Twelve superheroes have decided to mount and star in a production of Shakespeare’s mystical masterpiece, The Tempest. But who’s going to pay for it? Why, donors of course, or so they hope.

    Set entirely at a phone bank on a submerged submarine, the superhero-telemarketer/fundraisers, disguised as their undercover personas, ring up a slew of stingy prospects. In quirky fits and starts befitting the odd characters they all are, each explains The Tempest’s premise and their desperate need for funds.

    But never mind the play, who is fighting crime and making sure the evil Professor Cannibal isn’t terrorizing the town, the prospects want to know. Despite assurances that the superheroes have locked him up for good this time, it becomes apparent that Cannibal has escaped while the superheroes lose days and possibly weeks to their no-avail campaign.

    Enter The Tempest epilogue as imagined by Maher.

    The title of the show comes from Prospero’s final lines in The Tempest as he leaves his island and sets sail for home. “Now I want Spirits to enforce, art to enchant, And my ending is despair, Unless I be relieved by prayer, Which pierces so that it assaults Mercy itself and frees all faults.”

    Decades later Maher posits that those spirits are still hanging in, sunk underwater, and taking on superhero status. Did Prospero and the gang not sail home safely as Shakespeare would have us believe? Cannibal does sound a lot like the half-man-half monster Caliban left behind to create a fiefdom on his own, banishing the island spirits.

    If you are Tempest fans, this, and many other nods, including moments of original text, will tickle your fancy, as Maher intends.

    Know not of the Shakespearean tale? Fear not, Maher’s play does give a synopsis of the play that fills in the blanks enough to follow along and enjoy the humor for what it is as opposed to what it represents.

    Things become simultaneously clearer yet wackier when, out of desperation, the superheroes decide to reveal their true powers during calls. Surely that truth will raise some funds.

    Don’t expect anything obvious like flying or being invisible, this is Maher after all, and he doesn’t disappoint. The reveals are genius in their oddness, wonderfully allowing characters to grab their freak flag and wave it proudly.

    Plot-wise, these reveals also allow Maher to lean into The Tempest fully, even giving us spritely Ariel as a narrator of sorts. Are we still watching a play about arts funding? Has it morphed into a show poking fun at Shakespeare’s work itself as illustrated by a superhero gleefully asserting that what makes The Tempest so wonderful “is that the play is just barely there.”

    As the group starts to discuss the rehearsal process on their phone calls, it’s fair to say we’re watching a play skewering the theater process itself with all its pretentions, rituals and self-importance.

    “The audience will sit on the crest of a wave,” one of the superheroes says on the phone. The whole thing will be improvised, says another. The most appropriate time for intoxication is in the rehearsal room, asserts a different superhero.

    It’s all ridiculous, meta, absurd, punny, referential, poetic and wicked smart. But at just under two hours it recalls the words of another Shakespearean character, Polonius, who declares that a crucial part of Hamlet’s play within the play is “too long.”

    Maher’s cleverness here is a bit of a runaway train. Always exciting in the bumps and jolts, but exhaustion from holding on sets in before the play is done with us. It’s easy to forgive as Maher keeps hooking us in with new gags and ramped-up quirkiness, but a haircut of just 20 or so minutes off the production is needed to keep things completely fresh.

    Lucky for us we have Director Jason Nodler steering the symphonic ship of Maher’s words and ideas. This is a true ensemble effort, one that necessitates stagnant time at a table making calls. Yet Nodler, with a big assist from Lighting Designer, Hudson Davis, makes the production look dynamic on all fronts.

    click to enlarge

    Big personalities, one and all.

    Photo by Anthony Rathburn

    More importantly, Nodler choreographs his charismatic cast with precision and plenty of room to shine.
    If you’ve ever seen a Catastrophic show before you’ll know many of the actors. These are big personalities/talents one and all. Noel Bowers, Raymond Compton, Tamarie Cooper, Jovan Jackson, Bryan Kaplún, Jenna Morris-Miller, Karina Pal Montaño-Bowers, Rebecca Randall, Kyle Sturdivant, Clarity Welch, Abraham Zeus Zapata and Walt Zipprian.

    Each one a mini play/character study unto themselves and a joy to watch. Hilarious, no question. But also incredibly sad as they struggle in their soulless world, without art or magic, where they need to beg for creativity to shine. Yet hopeful as they endlessly plug along.

    See how Maher brings us back to the artistic endeavor in opposition to those who would dismiss it?

    Spirits, superheroes, Shakespeare, villains, apathetic audiences, theater prigs, theater naysayers, actors with confidence, self-doubting artists, and just a bucket full of weird. Now that’s a synopsis Maher might approve of.

    Spirits to Enforce continues through October 12 at the Midtown Arts and Theater Center Houston, 3400 Main. For more information, call 713-521-4533 or visit matchouston.org. Pay -Pay-What-You-Can.

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    Jessica Goldman

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  • TUTS Debuts a Powerful Dear Evan Hansen at the Start of a National Tour

    TUTS Debuts a Powerful Dear Evan Hansen at the Start of a National Tour

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    After the superlative production of Spring Awakening at Rec Room Arts, if you still need to sniff teen spirit then turn to the touring reprise of another Tony-winning Best Musical, Dear Evan Hansen, presented by Theatre Under the Stars.

    This second national tour, starting here in Houston, is an exact duplicate of the original Broadway production (2016-2022) and uses non-equity actors, but you’d never know. Many of these pros-to-be are making their professional debut, and some are veterans of other touring productions such as Beauty and the Beast or In the Heights. All are just right.

    Most impressive is Michael Fabisch as teen Evan, who suffers from some form of hyper social anxiety. Fabisch has nervousness down to a science. When cornered, he rambles incoherently, his arms flying about, while he constantly wipes his hands on his pants. He’s wondrously neurotic. And can he sing!

    Benj Pasek and Justin Paul’s music and lyrics are soft rock-inspired and extremely conversational. There are no great hooks to catch your ear, yet the show’s two anthems, “Waving Through a Window” and “You Will Be Found,” have become cult classics of a sort. Fabisch’s high tenor purrs then suddenly wails in emotional release. It’s a most inspiring performance throughout. A recent graduate of University of Michigan’s School of Music, Theatre and Dance, Fabisch bursts onto the professional stage with fireworks not seen since Macy’s Fourth of July celebration.

    This intimate musical has its own pyrotechnics. It strikes a chord in all of us, no matter what age. Who doesn’t relate to Evan’s heartache of “Wanting to be on the outside, always looking in/Will I
    ever be more than I’ve always been?…Waving through a window I try to speak, but nobody can hear…Can anybody see, is anybody waving back at me?”

    Evan’s only friend is Jared (Gabriel Vernon Nunag), a peripheral family acquaintance, who’s another class nerd who compensates for his own awkwardness by rampant sex talk, of which he knows nothing. Like Fabisch, you’d never realize that Nunag is making his professional debut. Another perfect casting decision. Evan dreads school, spends all his spare time in his room on his computer, and fears any type of personal interaction. He’s a bundle of tics, twitches, and sweaty palms. He’s a wreck. His father has walked out of the family when he was a child, and his mom (Bre Cade), working as a nurse’s aide while taking classes to become a paralegal, is often absent and unable to connect to her ailing son. As one of his therapy assignments, Evan writes self-help letters to himself, addressed to Dear Evan Hansen. This is what kick-drives the musical.

    School bully and social outcast Connor (Alex Pharo, on his national tour debut, another winner) steals Evan’s letter which is later found in his pocket after he commits suicide. Everyone now assumes Evan was Connor’s best friend. Suddenly Evan is the life of the party. The subterfuge lures in classmates, Connor’s family, and Zoe, Evan’s crush from afar (Hatty Ryan King, making her tour debut, is also phenomenal).

    Likes and clicks rise exponentially. A national movement is started by opportunistic students with Evan as its president. But the guilt is too much. Besieged, Evan has to crack. In the show’s best number, “You Will Be Found,” Evan realizes the damage he has done – to himself and those close to him. When he confesses to his mother, all his defensive walls collapse, and we are left in tears as she forgives him.

    This cleansing musical works so well because it’s an original, not based on some cartoon, film adaptation, or a musician’s catalog of past hits. The staging is slick and modern as panels slide on and off, on which are Evan’s writing or computer screens binging and bonging. The look is very efficient and clean, impersonal, sterile, although with Broadway power lighting. A perfect metaphor for social networking and its seductive siren song. If you spend hours online, will you be found?

    Dear Evan Hansen continues through September 22 at 7:30 p.m. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays; 8 p.m. Fridays; 2 p.m. and 8 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays at Theatre Under the Stars, 800 Bagby. For more information, call 713-558-8887 or visit tuts.com. $34.50-$143.50.

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    D. L. Groover

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  • The Weight of New Motherhood Examined In Cry It Out at Mildred’s Umbrella

    The Weight of New Motherhood Examined In Cry It Out at Mildred’s Umbrella

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    Mothers. We may not be one, but we’ve all come from one. That alone is reason enough to see a play about women trying to make the best decisions for their newborns while simultaneously navigating the circumstances they find themselves in. We’ve all been there on one side of that equation.

    Cry It Out by Molly Smith Metzler now enjoying a stellar production at Mildred’s Umbrella gives us a more complex and nuanced reason to spend time with new mums. Yes, their realities are often funny, and Metzler’s show gives us plenty of laughs that sidestep the new mom cliché enough not to fall prey to pander.

    But just when you think you’ve settled into a cleverly funny show about breastfeeding, husbands who don’t get it and silly dances to get a baby to settle, Metzler slowly slips into the serious.

    Loneliness, isolation, fear, guilt, inadequacies, dread and unbridled rage. These are the foundation of Metzler’s play which flays new motherhood like a fish being filleted — out come the guts for all to see, regardless of how much money you have to clean them up.

    Socio-economic status is the canopy shrouding the show and Metzler uses it to posit that money alone doesn’t make motherhood an easy road.

    Neighbors Jessie (Whitney Zangarine) and Lina (Chaney Moore) have bonded over their experience of moving to Long Island’s South Shore to raise their newborns. This despite their vastly different backgrounds. Jessie is a lawyer whose husband’s well-off family is able to get her daughter into exclusive nursery schools.

    Lina is a former drug addict who works as a hospital administrator while her boyfriend hasn’t a pot to piss in and lives with his alcoholic mother who is their only childcare option.

    While on mat leave, the two meet daily over coffee in Jessie’s backyard (an attractive, mostly painted set design by Edgar Guajardo) and trade trench stories about the absurdity of motherhood.

    While humor here definitely has some zing to it, the credit for our laughs goes directly to the muscular actors who riff off each with panache. Zangarine plays Jessie as a bit of a geek. Educated but awkward, polite but prone to blasts of expletives in frustration – a little uptight and unsure. As a foil, Moore is all fantastic South Shore swagger, accent and all. Feelings, frustrations and fucks to give are all thrown out without hesitation.

    It’s a great pairing and these two have such comedic chemistry we’d be happy watching them banter all show. But the deep friendship that develops from all their talk is what hooks us.

    Numerous times we’ve been asked to believe that characters who just met are somehow best buds. Theater is an exercise in leap of faith – so we often just go with it for narrative sake. But here, the friendship, loyalty and love we watch emerge between Jessie and Lina is truly something special. No question that Zangarine and Moore give us one of the best platonic yet intimate couples we’ve seen on stage in ages.

    Out of that friendship comes something deeper. Worries about what happens when maternity leave is over start to dominate the conversation. Partner/family issues are discussed. The women open up to each other and vulnerability abounds.

    click to enlarge

    Sammi Sicinski, Whitney Zangarine and Chaney Moore in Cry it Out.

    Photo by Rebecca Lovaton

    Then there’s the uber-wealthy neighbor Adrienne (Sammi Sicinski) who lives up the hill and gets thrust upon the women when her husband (Jason Duga) begs for them to include her in their coffee group.

    It’s clear Adrienne is having some kind of crisis. She seems to be ignoring her kid, focusing only on work and wants nothing to do with Jessie and Lina. Metzler smartly makes us wait to understand what motherhood challenge Adrienne represents, but boy when she lets it rip the revelation opens up another whole other avenue of sacrifice in the play and lets Sicinski steal the stage for her moment.

    At the end of the 90-minute arc of the play, we’ve gone from laughing with the mothers to crying with them, frankly surprised how moved we are by the play.

    It’s what Metzler no doubt wanted from her script. It’s definitely what the actors delivered. And we would be remiss not to give kudos to Director Rhett Martinez for giving equal weight and attention to the amusing and affecting parts of this production. One is not rushed for the other and we can still remember laughing even when more difficult issues are presented.

    Like so many small companies in Houston, or those that are left, Mildred’s Umbrella is now operating on a drastically reduced season. But small doesn’t mean un-mighty in this case, and Cry it Out is a magnificent way for the female-focused theater to start the season.

    Cry it Out continues through September 29 at Spring Street Studios, 1825 Spring Street, No. 232. For more information, visit mildredsumbrella.com.  Tickets are pay what you can.

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    Jessica Goldman

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  • Mining the Bible gets playful for Crystal Rae in Lions

    Mining the Bible gets playful for Crystal Rae in Lions

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    The Bible really does contain all the stories. There’s love and death, jealousy, sacrifice, envy, betrayal, heroism, mercy and all matters of triumph and failure. It’s why artists have been drawing from and riffing on these stories for generations. The Bible is the superstore of the human thematic condition.

    Houston multi-talent, writer/actor/producer Crystal Rae has mined this gold to great acclaim. In her recent Houston Press awarded play, Tied, about the 1963 bombing of a Baptist Church in Birmingham, Rae beautifully wove so many literal and allusion-based biblical stories, motifs and even name-checks in her work that even the non-believer was awed.

    For Lions, a 60-minute show now onstage with Crystal Rae Productions and directed by Troy Scheid, Rae takes a step back from biblical insinuation and instead cannonballs directly into the deep end of Exodus. The Moses as a baby part.

    If you didn’t think the bible had a story on interracial adoption, Rae is here to remedy that. But just as Tied addressed the Alabama bombing from the perspective of one victim’s father, Rae tells the story of Moses’ adoption from the one who adopted him – the Pharaoh’s daughter. The one who raised him and then watched him reject everything she gave him to return to his roots and save his people.

    The premise itself is clever, relevant and just plain juicy. This is a “what a great idea” kind of show.

    Thanks to Rae’s modernly elegant, often humorous and emotionally astute writing that mixes biblical fact with a good spoonful of narrative license, Lions is also a thoroughly engaging production.

    We meet Moses’s adopted mom Bithia (Rae chose one of the traditional Jewish names for the Pharaoh’s daughter who is never actually named in the bible) as she’s locked in her tomb awaiting death. Payback for Moses leading the Jews out of Egypt via the parted Red Sea which then drowned the in-pursuit Pharoah and his army.

    Rae herself plays Bithia, resplendent in a green metallic one-shoulder gown, gold snake necklace, winding gold bangles and a symbol ring on each hand which gets chimed every time Rae wishes to change a scene of track of dialogue. A perfectly graceful way to deal with a show with no props to speak of and not a whiff of lighting or sound.

    But when Rae is on stage, we need no distraction from the acting. Not that there really is a stage – this first production was held in a small church hall with folding chairs. Despite the bright overhead lights and sightlines that are difficult when there is no slope to the seating rows, Rae holds us rapt.

    From her excitement at being a new mother, her worries about her son’s odd behavior, fights with her racist sister to an ultimate letting go of the son she so adores, Rae holds each emotion out for us to touch and examine.

    The surprise here is just how funny much of it is.

    Moses is having visions of a world to come where he and the UL’s (Bithia refuses the call the Jews slaves, instead referring to them as Unpaid Labor or UL’s) will be free. Upon learning this, Bithia asks the audience, “Does your Teddy talk to UL’s from the future? No? That’s why I’m putting Moses on Ritalin.”

    Rae could have pulled this off as a one-woman show, but here she gets some help and a much richer production with the addition of three other performers, all men donning head-to-toe black including hoodies pulled up. Hoodies up, they are a chorus of sorts, there to back Rae up. Hoodies down and the actors take on their own roles

    Shon Brown’s resonant voice is perfect for Mr. Charles, Bithia’s bodyguard and friend/confidant to Moses who sees himself in the UL.

    Chris Szeto-Joe does fine double duty as Bithia’s entitled nephew/heir to the throne, Tep and a social wo
    rker who comes to check on Moses and offer his unwelcome assessment of the adoption situation.

    click to enlarge

    Puppeteering Moses in Lions

    Photo by Pin Lim

    Most importantly there’s Cardero Berryman, tasked with manipulating the puppet that is Moses for much of the show. Created by the wonderful Afsaneh Aayani, young Moses (obviously black because ancient Egypt, duh) is terrifically voiced by Berryman and handled quite well. However, a little more nuance would go a long way in helping us connect with this wooden boy. If the prevalence of puppets on stage in recent years has taught us anything it’s that puppeteering is a difficult art and getting the right movements, especially things like head tilts, can make or flatline a scene.

    But let Moses sing, rap and dance, one of the most unexpected moments in the show, and it’s impossible not to howl with laughter at what Rae has given us and how Berryman (with assists from Szeto-Joe and Brown) brings it to life.

    Lions does have it’s serious moments. Many of them. Moses is bullied for being black and un-royal. Bithia struggles with loving her son but knowing he’s not fully hers. Then there’s the whole owning/disciplining slaves issue.

    Rae tackles it all and it’s a lot to ask for a one-hour show. If there is any deficit here it’s that Rae doesn’t have the space to fully dive into any of these issues, instead, they get played out and then symbol chimed away as Bithia moves onto another short memory or scene as she waits in her tomb hoping Moses will come back and save her.

    But truthfully, after the gut punch that was Tied, it’s somewhat refreshing to see Rae take a lighter touch with her material. A delicious sorbet after a monumental meal so to speak.

    No one will walk out of Lions mulling over the themes or what any of it means. Here Rae is simply trying to give us a different perspective and entertain us in the process. And she does it better than most. As a writer and an actor.

    There is one more performance next Friday. Take your mom. Take your kids. Take yourself. It’s your one chance to laugh with Moses and cry with his adopted mother and have an hour to celebrate Rae as a truly remarkable Houston talent.

    Lions continues Friday, September 13 at 7:30 at 2305 Dunlavy Street. For tickets visit Eventbrite.com. $30.

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    Jessica Goldman

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  • Forbidden Love: Thunderclap’s Melville & Hawthorne at the MATCH

    Forbidden Love: Thunderclap’s Melville & Hawthorne at the MATCH

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    They met at a picnic in Massachusetts’ Berkshire mountains in August 1850 – the grand American literary lion, Nathaniel Hawthorne (The Scarlet Letter, Twice-Told Tales) and the young impulsive whaler, adventurer, mutineer, Herman Melville.

    For Melville (Tyler Galindo), known at the time as the author of the scandalous but well-received Typee and Omoo, novels based on his experiences in the Marquesas, the attraction was instantaneous. “When the big hearts strike together, the concussion is a little stunning.”

    The more reserved Hawthorne (Brock Hatton), 15 years older, had never met such an uninhibited, impertinent man who said whatever was on his mind. Propriety was beyond Melville. He left that behind in the South Pacific. Five years later, after a shattering separation, they meet for the last time in England, where Hawthorne was American Consul to Liverpool. Hawthorne wrote of his former intimate Melville, “He has a very high and noble nature, and better worth immortality than most of us.”

    But from August 1850 through November 1851, in the bucolic Berkshires, the two married men were practically inseparable. Melville lived six miles away with his family on a farm he worked when not writing Moby-Dick. The two would meet for dinner, or brandy and cigars, and talk the nights away: philosophy, the art of writing, transcendentalism, atheism, everyday things. Their friendship, hardly mentioned at the time, wouldn’t have merited any attention except for the extant letters from Melville that Hawthorne kept. (Melville would destroy Hawthorne’s.)

    Melville’s correspondence is so deeply personal and blunt it borders on the obsessive, if not the homoerotic. He adored Hawthorne, no question, and his pungent style swirls with profound passion and utter devotion.

    “Your heart beats in my ribs and mine in yours, and both in God’s…It is a strange feeling – no hopefulness is in it, no despair. Content – that is it.”

    “Whence come you, Hawthorne? By what right do you drink from my flagon of life? And when I put it to my lips – lo, they are yours and not mine.”

    “Hawthorne has dropped germinous seeds into my soul. He expands and deepens down, the more I contemplate him; and further, and further, shoots his strong New England roots into the hot soil of my Southern soul.”

    It’s no wonder that, for years, literary scholars have battled over whether these two greatest of American writers of the antebellum period – or any period for that matter – were lovers.

    Playwright Adi Teodoru, in her world premiere Melville & Hawthorne doesn’t flinch. She believes they were and shows us. Using quotes from the letters in a masterful way for much of Melville’s dialogue, she dramatizes their burgeoning affair, from the thunderstorm-interrupted picnic, to their struggles to reconcile the feelings that move them so, their first impassioned kiss, the mutual inspiration, the fraying of Melville and Hawthorne’s marriages as their spouses’ suspicions are revealed, their rueful meeting on a bench in Liverpool as they say their final goodbye.

    World premieres are tricky things. They can come full-borne like Athena out of the head of Zeus, or often can be out-of-town tryouts, needing revisions. M&H cries out for more work. The bones are here but oftentimes too obviously lurking under the thin flesh covering them.

    During arguments between famous legal reformer David Dudley Field II (Curtis Barber) and Melville – over slavery and colonialism or barbarism versus civilization or black versus white – the contentious debates ring with an anachronistic peal. They sound too modern and glib for the antebellum. The scenes depict Melville’s impassioned humanism but seem like filler, not drama.

    Cortney Haffner, as Sophia Hawthorne, has an impressive stage presence with a mezzo’s velvet voice and is quite effective as a woman scorned, but is she really needed in this play? Or is Sophie Powers, as neglected Lizzie Melville? She has a soft reading of her part which is in stark contrast to the others, and she just doesn’t register. I may be wrong, but these women slow down the action. Let them be offstage, talked about, argued over, unseen. The play doesn’t need them. Keep the focus on the principals, make it even more intimate. (I couldn’t stop thinking about Liz Duffy Adams’ Born With Teeth, the Alley’s 2022 world premiere. It focuses on Shakespeare and Kit Marlowe. No Virgin Queen, no Thomas Kyd, not even Anne Hathaway to swan in at a dramatic moment. Only these two share the stage. It was stunning.)

    And you don’t need any others when Hatton and, especially, Galindo rule the stage. Although he’s much too young for Hawthorne in 1851, Hatton plays this with the finesse of a reserved Pilgrim, who’s ultimately seduced into the searing light of Melville. At first, he pulls away when Melville gets to close or lays a gentle hand on his shoulder or arm. Reluctant to yield, he doesn’t know what to do about these strange feelings he shouldn’t be feeling. He admires the younger man – his thoughts, his rebellion, his work, his dark side which mirrors his own deeply hidden desires. When he relents, his face lights up, he relishes the intimacy. Later, when he lies in Melville’s arms, he glows under Liz Lacy’s dappled light.

    Then there’s Galindo. Talk about stage presence. He carries his own klieg light. With his wayward hair, blustery insistence, and savage demeanor, he has arrived straight from a desert island. You know he could fashion a hut out of palm fronds, paddle a war canoe, or eat you alive. He stalks Hawthorne and eventually ensorcells him. He roars his attack, then purrs in satisfaction, or cries in desperation whenever rebuffed. It’s a fierce performance, full of guts and grit. In the future, what a mad, possessed Ahab he would make.

    Director Andrew Ruthven allows all the space they need to emote and then discover the tenderness within their forbidden allure. Jacob E. Sanchez’s minimal set has hints of the sea with its ship’s rigging pierced by starlight and a swag curtain that looks like a unfurled mainsail. Dru Bowman’s period costumes are appropriately swallow-tailed and wool, or gingham and swirly.

    But an overhaul is in order for this drama to be truly seaworthy. Scrape away the barnacles, and let the story catch the wind. There’s a fine ship underneath, just waiting to be launched.

    Melville & Hawthorne continues through August 10 at 7:30 p.m. Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays; and 2:30 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays at Thunderclap Productions at the MATCH, 3400 Main. For more information, call 713-521-4533 or visit thunderclapproductions.com or matchhouston.org. $15-$25.

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    D. L. Groover

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  • Houston Broadway Theatre Delivers a Stunning Production of Next to Normal at the Hobby Center

    Houston Broadway Theatre Delivers a Stunning Production of Next to Normal at the Hobby Center

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    The Houston Press wasn’t going to review Houston Broadway Theatre’s production of the Tony and Pulitzer Prize-winning musical Next to Normal because its run lasted only one weekend for four performances. A showcase that is so evanescent won’t hit hard, as they say.

    But after seeing the Saturday evening show, attention must be paid. There are still two shows remaining, Sunday matinee and Sunday evening. If there’s room in Zilkha Hall at the Hobby Center run to it. Don’t wait!

    Who the hell is this troupe? And why in hell are they so good?

    Next to Normal is their Houston company debut, and if this is what they can do then, please, bring us more. Much more.

    What a stupendous production – Broadway caliber musical theater of the highest order. Perhaps the band’s volume might be toned down a bit for the singers, but that is the only quibble to be found. Tim Macabee’s physical look is wondrous: modern mesh screens that pivot on casters, projections from Greg Emetaz that wipe across the background and proscenium like Golden Age Hollywood lap dissolves, neon-tinged edges from lighting designer Alan G. Edwards that light up in various colors to set the mood, and glorious performances from all that will knock your socks off.

    The tiny houses seen from above, like a Monopoly board’s houses on steroids, are  the perfect touch. But there are so many perfect touches that it’s difficult to list them. The entire show has the perfect touch.

    No question about it, this is a show as rich in production design and vocal talent as any seen in Houston in seasons. Their mission statement reads in part: “HBT is dedicated to captivating and uplifting the Houston community through the delivery of exceptional and compelling musical theatre productions.” Wow, that promise they deliver in spades.

    Tom Kitt and Brian Yorkey’s multiple award-winning musical has a first act curtain like no other. What other show wheels its leading lady into the operating room to undergo electric shock therapy then breaks for intermission? There’s room on the musical stage for almost anything, and Normal (Broadway debut in 2009, after wowing off-Broadway during its 2008 run) takes the subject of manic depression and turns what could be an ultra-downer into as accomplished a piece of musical theater as possible. It’s a deeply moving work, yet highly exhilarating.

    Suburban housewife Diana (Mary Faber in an immaculate, bravura performance as battered and uncomprehending mother) is a mess. She doesn’t know why. She hates her life, has no feelings for her average husband Dan (Constantine Maroulis, of Rock of Ages, Jekyll & Hyde, and American Idol fandom) and doesn’t relate at all to her teenage daughter (Mary Caroline Owens), who’s on the verge of a breakdown herself, barely clinging to the lifeline thrown to her by stoner classmate Henry (Josiah Thomas Randolph).

    Diana pays inordinate attention, though, to her son Gabe (HBT founding member Tyce Green who produced the Broadway revival of The Who’s Tommy), who appears to her almost as if in a dream, popping up behind her and whispering in her ear. She comes alive in his presence. He is her favorite, no doubt about it. But the stress of everyday life is crushing her; the fallout scalds her family. When she makes sandwiches for her kids to take to school and finishes buttering the bread on the floor, there’s no denying the seriousness of her problem.

    The medical establishment in the form of doctors Fine and Madden (Manuel Stark Santos in exceptional voice) is as stymied as Diana’s clueless family. Pills seem useless to calm her relentless furies. When the family’s long-buried secret is revealed during an ordinary family meal (a revelation that arrives with dreadful calm and smacks us in the gut with utter surprise), suicide is attempted. That’s when the terror of electroshock therapy is broached. There’s the possibility of a cure, but that might wipe out Diana’s memories – the only sweet things that keep her grounded.

    Blessed with a stunning contemporary score and bitingly effective lyrics, the show keeps surprising as it returns to past melodies and spins them with ever greater potency. The score is labeled “rock,” but this might have more to do with the high vocal line and powerhouse delivery needed for the songs’ emotional heft. The specter of Sondheim and, especially, late great young turk Jonathan Larson (Rent) swirls throughout, but then so, too, does Rogers and Hammerstein.

    This is Broadway song writing on an exceptionally high plane. Ballads, like “Perfect For You,” sung by Henry and Natalie, or “I Dreamed a Dance,” for Diana and Gabe, are lilting romances, lovely and soft; contrasted to the churning “Make Up Your Mind” or “Superboy and the Invisible Girl,” power anthems with drama and drive. Gabe’s “I’m Alive,” as he seeks to seduce Diane into his orbit and not be forgotten, is terrifically effective, belted by Green as if his life depended upon it. Gabe’s life does.

    HBT’s ensemble is first-rate. Perhaps, more than first-rate. There is no flaw to be found in them anywhere. Their singing, wailing, cooing rocks the rafters. It’s all uplifting and ethereal, powerful and emotional. Directed by theater pro Joe Calarco, with musical direction by Michael Ferrara, and choreography by Hope Easterbrook, Next to Normal is far from normal. It is exceptional!

    Next to Normal has two performances remaining at 1:30 p.m. and 7 p.m. Sunday, July 28 at Zilhka Hall at the Hobby Center, 800 Bagby. For more information, call 713-315-2525 or visit houstonbroadwaytheatre.com. $32.50 – $132.50.

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    D. L. Groover

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  • Mysterious and Foreboding, The Woman in Black Comes to Eerie Life at Main Street Theater

    Mysterious and Foreboding, The Woman in Black Comes to Eerie Life at Main Street Theater

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    Main Street Theater gives us plenty of chills for these sweaty summer nights via its superlative rendition of Stephen Malatratt’s adaptation of Susan Hill’s Victorian gothic ghost story, The Woman in Black.

    Imaginatively shepherded by director Philip Hays, and abetted by a phalanx of pro designers in set (Jodi Bobrovsky), costume Paige A. Willson), lighting (Andrew Archer), and especially sound (Shawn W. St. John), the supernatural tale takes on eerie life because of the two actors who lead us into this spooky spectral world, Danny Hayes and Ian Lewis. They play off and against each other with a supernatural force of their own. We’re in safe hands with these two, although our own hands may shake in apprehension as the story progresses and grows darker and more mysterious.

    Years after the events of the play, solicitor Kipps (Hayes) wants to tell his tale to his family to rid himself of the curse that has haunted him for years. It must be told, he repeats to the Actor (Lewis) he has hired to help him prepare. They meet in a decrepit Victorian theater with seashell footlights, a ratty proscenium, a red velvet curtain drawn back upstage, and props covered with dusty sheets.

    The opening scenes are played for laughs as the Actor rolls his eyes as he attempts to bring life into Kipps’ dry reading of his own story. “I’ll make you an Irving yet,” he promises. Slowly, though, through theatrical prestidigitation, the Actor takes on the role of the younger Kipps, while Kipps plays all the other characters: pony and trap driver, wary townsfolk, London lawyer. It’s wonderful theater magic. (The playbill lists Hayes in the Actor role and Lewis as Kipps — an indication of things to come.)

    “I don’t believe in ghosts,” wails the Actor playing Kipps. But events will shake his resolve soon enough. For you see, there’s a Woman in Black (Callina Anderson in silent mode) who appears throughout to drive Kipps mad. She’s a vengeful sprite, a figure of evil and retribution, set to wreak havoc on those innocents who cross her blasted path. In days long past, she was an unwed mother who gave up her son to her sister Mrs. Drablow of Eel Marsh House.

    Wanting to be close to him, she moved into Drablow’s forlorn mansion on the marshes, but was forbidden to tell her son that she was his mother. Watching from the house, she witnessed the death of her young son, sucked into the mud during the sudden appearance of the dismal sea mist, the fret, and forever after walks the earth to seek retribution on any poor soul who sees her. Death will surely follow.

    This wondrous melodrama spins its weird tale with simple theatricalism. Two fine actors at the top of their game (Anderson doesn’t have anything to do except make her ghostly appearances), stunning lighting effects, atmospheric sound work, and the sure command from director Hays, who overlays all this with a visual splendor and moody pace that fits this ghost story like a worm-eaten black lace glove.

    The Woman in Black is certainly Main Street’s 2023-24 season topper: a fitting tribute to the power of theater. Anyway, who doesn’t like a good ghost story? Trust me, you won’t find a better one.

    The Woman in Black continues through August 11 at 7:30 p.m. Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays and 3 p.m. Sundays at Main Street Theater, 2540 Times Boulevard. For more information, call 713-524-6706 or visit mainstreettheater.com. $39-$59.

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    D. L. Groover

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  • Art Factory: Sunday in the Park With… Hey, Where’s George?

    Art Factory: Sunday in the Park With… Hey, Where’s George?

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    There’s no question about it. Colton Berry, artistic director and founder of Art Factory, is a major theater talent. His powerhouse voice wails like a rock star’s or croons with smooth Broadway belt, his acting is exceptionally clear and true, he directs with finesse, his scenic design choices are right, his costumes speak volumes. In a way, he can do it all. So why he is so absent as George Seurat in Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine’s 1984 masterpiece Sunday in the Park With George? Where did Berry go?

    The sound mixing at Art Factory has always been the bane of their productions. The pre-recorded orchestral score from Music Theatre International is pumped to a level that borders close to static hotness. No singer can compete with that. Yet Victoria Ritchie, an exceptionally fragrant Dot, George’s muse and lover, easily rides above the over-amplified music. Others in the cast do too: Caryn Fulda as George’s mother in the wistful “Beautiful,” Jared Dees as rival painter Jules, Luke J. Hamilton as Franz, Luke Yerpestock as Boatman.

    Only Berry gets washed out. Granted, most of the cast is un-miked, which is another problem altogether, perhaps caused by finances, but the Art Factory space is not large, so are mics necessary anyway? Just dial down the volume so that everyone can be heard. We don’t want to miss those patented Sondheim rhymes and sly verbal wordplay. The words to Sondheim are as critical to the story as is his glorious music. Missing half of Sondheim is some form of patricide. And this musical’s suicide.

    Although lucid and strong during the tongue-twisting patter of “Putting It Together,” Berry plays Seurat as if literally channeling the criticism he gets from everyone around him, Connect! He’s obsessed with his art and shoves everything else in his life to the background. Nothing is more important to him, not Dot, not family, not friends. He is most alive when painting. That’s where he connects. Berry, who directs himself here, has covered George in a muffled shell. He plays him muted and soft. This is certainly a valid artistic choice that might work if we could hear him. Now, he just sounds vague. He has missed his star turn. A Sunday without George is greatly diminished.

    But Ritchie steps up and dazzles. Her Dot is very human and empathetic. At the start she may be an illiterate good-time girl, but through her love of Seurat she eventually sees her own worth. She’s the only one who appreciates his art, but she must break away from his seeming indifference to find herself. Her piercing numbers, “We Do Not Belong Together” and “Move On,” are testaments to Ritchie’s power and Broadway know-how in putting over a song in full character. The show’s original Dot, Bernadette Peters, etched this character in stone, but Ritchie comes mighty close to paradise.

    Part of the wonder of this show is how an artist creates, what motivates him, what choices he makes, what choices he discards. It’s one of Sondheim’s most personal works, imbued with a warm nostalgia of regret and time passing, filled with melodies and an eagerness to please, which were never his prime attributes. For years, detractors had labeled his musicals cold and unfeeling, brittle and bitchy.

    Some of that is true, but after the disastrous reception of his previous Merrily We Roll Along, Sondheim changed partners, dropped veteran director Harold Prince who had guided the early classics (A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, Company, A Little Night Music, Follies, Sweeney Todd), and hooked up with young writer/director James Lapine (March of the Falsettos). The concept musical gave way to a more intimate book musical, and the iconoclastic life and career of Georges Seurat, who set the art world of Paris into convulsions with his radical method of painting, was just the right subject at the right time to revive Sondheim. The musical won a Pulitzer Prize for Drama in 1985.

    The cast, while young, do fine work with tricky Sondheim meter and verse. When they gather at the finale of Act I and sing the stirring anthem “Sunday,” where his pointillistic masterwork A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte is revealed in a stunning coup de theatre, there were gasps from the audience. (There would be more gasps if the painting were better lighted. It looked faded and washed out. It should shine like stained glass.)

    There is immense power in Sondheim – the potent force of creation and the terrible toll it can exact upon the creator and those who have to live with him. This is the first remounting of Sunday since the remarkable 2011 Masquerade Theatre production. It’s about time. Now, Berry, give us a George, too, to celebrate.

    Sunday in the Park With George continues through July 21 at 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays; 5 p.m. Sundays at Art Factory, 1125 Providence. For more information, call 832-210-5200 or visit artfactoryhouston.com. $30.

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    D. L. Groover

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  • A.D. Players’ Fiddler on the Roof Is Classic Broadway

    A.D. Players’ Fiddler on the Roof Is Classic Broadway

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    When radical student Perchik (Patrick Fretwell) makes his entrance in the third scene of Fiddler on the Roof (1964), the multiple Tony Award-winning Jerry Bock (music), Sheldon Harnick (lyrics), Joseph Stein (book) and Jerome Robbins (director/choreographer) musical about Jewish life in imperial Russia’s Pale of Settlement, deftly on stage via A.D. Players, he states that he’s newly arrived in Anatevka from Kiev. The word slaps us in the face. You can hear the audience’s breath being taken aback. In that one word, this classic musical pulsates with relevancy.

    All Jews were forced to live in the Pale, which would now be Ukraine, Poland, and Crimea. In small impoverished villages, the infamous shtetls, Jews were discriminated, brutalized, and demeaned. Their threadbare lives were circumscribed; the communities forced into menial labor that kept them mired in bleakness; their daily existence threatened by the Czar’s racist pogroms.

    But the Jews had one thing – one faint hope – that buoyed them in the darkness: their Tradition. It’s the musical’s through line and constant source of conflict for Tevye the milkman (Adam B. Shapiro), as modern life constantly upends his authority. The Papa, as the bracing opening number tells us, “Who, day and night, must scramble for a living, Feed a wife and children, say his daily prayers? And who has the right, as master of the house, To have the final word at home?”

    His rights are being chiseled away by his feisty daughters, his bossy wife Golde (Aviva Pressman), and electrifying new ideas from the outside world. Tradition solidifies the past. Change is the future, and Tevye’s beloved tradition is fading fast. Whether he is ready for it or not, the future will be forced upon him.

    Under the sure hand of director Aaron Brown, the spirited feet of choreographer Courtney D. Jones, the klezmer-inspired baton of maestro Jonathan Craft as he leads an 11-piece orchestra, the sprightly ensemble cast, the set pieces from Torsten Louis that glide in from the wings or descend from the flies, the bejeweled lighting from David Gipson, and Leah Smith’s patched woolens and babushkas, this beloved musical gleams with freshness and a radiant spirituality that isn’t often seen on today’s stage.

    It wasn’t seen on stage in the ’60s either, which is one major reason this most original musical was an instant hit and became the longest running theater piece in Broadway history up to that point. It’s easy to see why. It’s about family and the community as family. The show is stuffed with characters we respond to. In Stein’s masterful book, they come alive. In Harnick and Bock’s songs, with their chromatic wisps of liturgical chant and equal doses of Broadway bounce, the show melds into a cohesive whole. Fiddler portrays a forgotten little world now made universal.

    Shapiro breathes an easy charm, a bit softer than what we’ve seen in other interpretations, but his comedy timing is rich, and Tevye is chockablock with Borscht Belt shtick when he “negotiates” with God or spars with Golde and his older daughters, Tzeitel (Elliett Reinecke), Hodel (Paige Klase), and Chava (Cara DeGaish), who itch to get married to the ones they love, not the ones their Papa has arranged with prickly village matchmaker Yente (Shondra Marie). Tzeitel loves Motel the Tailor (Jared Guidry), Hodel falls for firebrand Perchik, and literary Chava sets her sights on Russian Christian Fyredka (Gabriel Mullen). All are in fine voice.

    The original show boasted Robbins’ iconic dances – the “Bottle Dance” sequence from Tzeitel and Motel’s wedding is one such set piece, and you can’t stage a proper Fiddler without it. Jones creates a fine facsimile for the four dancers who crouch, kick, and plunge with wine bottles atop their brimmed hoiche hats. The routine stops the show, as it should.

    My favorite scene has always been “Tevye’s Dream,” where he convinces Golde that Motel is the correct suitor, not the butcher Lazar Wolf (Michael C. Morrison). He conjures cuddly Grandma Tzeitel (Megan Haines) and Lazar’s vengeful former wife Fruma-Sarah (Mara Jill Herman) from behind and between their bed to predict doom if Tzeitel marries the butcher. “How can you allow your daughter to take my place/House, keys, clothes, pearls.” It’s comically spooky as Herman’s soprano goes into overdrive while the ensemble gyrates under Gipson’s eerie green lighting. It’s tremendously effective and so much fun.

    Fiddler’s relevance is more pronounced than ever. Its message of family tradition and a community that suffers through hardship yet perseveres speaks to all. The fiddler on the roof (Carolina Ornelas) is both symbol of their precarious existence and their indomitable faith. At the end as the villagers disperse after the Czar’s edict, the mysterious fiddler follows Tevye and his family on their journey to America. (Why he leaves his fiddle on the pile of discarded belongings seems the wrong message for the somewhat hopeful conclusion of the show. His music – Anatevka’s binding tie – must follow Tevye. He’s going to need it.)

    Fiddler is one of the great masterwork musicals. No question. Take your children. They will be uplifted. And they will thank you.

    Fiddler on the Roof continues through August 4 at 7:30 p.m. Wednesdays and Thursdays; 8 p.m. Fridays; 2:30 p.m. and 8 p.m. Saturdays; 2:30 p.m. Sundays at A.D. Players at the George Theater 5420 Westheimer. For more information, call 713-526-2721 or visit adplayers.org. $25-$75.

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    D. L. Groover

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  • Rec Room Arts Puts Harold Pinter’s Betrayal on Stage

    Rec Room Arts Puts Harold Pinter’s Betrayal on Stage

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    Ask any theater professional in the know and they will tell you that acting Pinter is dream job. Not for nothing is British playwright Harold Pinter (1930-2008) known as an actors’ playwright. His plots are enigmas, his characters hem and haw while spouting the most mundane conversations, and over all, like a fog, lies a mist of menace. Something wicked this way comes. Like Chekhov’s gun, sooner or later something or someone is going to go off.

    Nobel Prize, Tony Award, and Olivier Award-winner Pinter is considered one of the most influential and important voices in “modern” theater. Although his greatest works span decades, his plays, The Birthday Party, The Homecoming and Betrayal are modern theater classics, and his screenplay adaptations of The Servant, The Go-Between, The French Lieutenant’s Woman and even populist murder mystery Sleuth, are evocative of golden age Hollywood at its finest.

    He loved to act, and his plays certainly show his flair for the footlights. They are resplendent with terse monologues, intriguing dialogue that always says much more than stated, and an air of danger., even though none is apparently present. And those pauses, the ellipses, are mother’s milk to actors. So much can be done with those. It’s all under the surface, the subtext, if you will, and that’s why actors love to sink their teeth into Pinter’s meaty, elliptical talk. You can make almost anything out of it. His style is so unique, it’s been patented under “Pinteresque.”

    The three actors in Betrayal, somewhat hypnotizing at Rec Room Arts, chew into Pinter like dining with Escoffier. They eat him up. Well, to be true, two do: Jay Sullivan and Molly Wetzel. It’s a mystery to me why Brandon J. Morgan has gone silent. One of Houston’s finest, Morgan possesses such ease and class when acting, that you often forget his immense talent. He fills his characters with grace and simple truth, no matter who they are. You just know you’ve met them somewhere because his characters are so life-like. What happened here?

    He speaks so low that you strain to hear him. Rec Room is perhaps the smallest theater in Houston, why is he speaking so we can’t hear him or the author’s provocative words? Why has director Sophia Watt toned him down to a whisper? His character Jerry, a literary agent, certainly has things to hide – as do all three of them; four of them, actually, if you count Jerry’s offstage wife – but who speaks sotto voce in the theater? In his scene where he first declares his love for Emma, his best friend Robert’s wife, which sets the play in motion, his back is to us. We lose all connection. We totally lose him.

    Wetzel and Sullivan, as married couple Robert and Emma, fare better because we can hear them. The knowing insinuations, the oblique references, the cat-and-mouse games are front and center. We have to lean in for Morgan, and that trips us up. Not only does it make Pinter’s knotty drama a lot less interesting, we lose important information along the way as the intimate drama speeds backward.

    For you see, Pinter, that sly cat, plays with us. His drama about adultery and the lies one tells during betrayal, is told in reverse order. In nine scenes, starting with the ex-lovers meeting in 1977, Betrayal moves back in time to Robert and Emma’s wedding in 1968, with each next scene adding a bit more exposition, a bit more introspection, a bit more jealousy, a lot more tension. A theater maven, Pinter must have known Kaufman and Hart’s sardonic comedy Merrily We Roll Along (1934), which also has nine scenes and proceeds backward in time to the now-damaged trio’s innocent youth.

    Rec Room’s production is stripped to the essentials. Designer Stefän Azizi employs only a table and chairs to serve as bar, restaurant, a hotel room in Venice, the couple’s tryst apartment. The walls are curtains, and the passage of time is by turntable, although it seemed to have a life of its own and rotated during scenes before time went backward, indicated by titles projected on the walls. It’s all very minimal, which pushes Pinter right to the fore where he should be. But Jerry, his back to us, remains suspended in time, far away, snacking on Pinter but leaving us hungry for more.

    Betrayal continues through July 6 at 7:30 p.m. Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays at Rec Room Arts, 100 Jackson. For more information, call 713-344-1291 or visit [email protected]. $21.50 – $46.50.

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    D. L. Groover

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