review - Sidetracked

review - Monday!

review - What the Butler Saw

Odyssey Theatre

review - Next Monday!

review - Art

CRITIC'S PICK
Art
by Yasmina Reza
directed by David Lee
@ Pasadena Playhouse
through February 19

As I watched Yasmina Reza's fine play Art for the fourth time, now in an excellent production at the Pasadena Playhouse directed by David Lee, I realized that seeds for her God of Carnage were firmly planted in Art. The male friends mention the term deconstruction several times, referring to the changes in modern art, but what we witness is a deconstruction of their friendship to the very core, as they leash out at each other in a primal beastly nature as do the two couples in the later Carnage. Reza was definitely thinking with more civility when she wrote Art, nevertheless, as the trio of friends make a supreme effort to forgive and get back to the comaraderie they once experienced. Forgiveness/togetherness in Art; savage isolation in Carnage. At present, relationships, depending on their urgency, still very much count in our daily lives, so we strive to keep them alive; others we dismiss for lack of importance or maybe because we simply do not like to be in the company of these other people, but, in spite of polite gestures, it cannot be denied that society, sadly, is little by little most assuredly approaching the state of negativity/nihilism expressed in Carnage. Reza's brilliant observations keep coming full speed as the prolific playwright shows every sign of accumulating a body of work that delves right into the depths of the human condition.

David Lee and a terrific cast bring out the human and inhuman touches to perfection in this newest rendition of Art. And Tom Buderwitz's tremendous museum-like set design of a multitude of modernistic empty canvases does much to emphasize Reza's themes. The overpowering set with the three actors in the center foreground shows how this is but one example of  the effects of dehumanization within the giant macrocosm. In Carnage the vast set was red, like blood, for carnage; here it is a shade of grey, more neutral, less severe, more pacifistic but just as powerful. Streaks of grey are also sprinkled on the white canvas purchased by Serge, lending it, at least through his eyes, a sense of color. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and dermatologist Serge (Michael O'Keefe) has the right to his opinion, to respect the art for what it means to him. Engineer Mark (Bradley Whitford) is his arrogant friend who hates what he sees, insists on imposing his pessimism on Serge and thus begins the debate about what constitutes good art. Serge has paid a whopping $200,000 for a practically blank canvas, and Mark is quick to point out what he calls Serge's lack of taste. Ivan (Roger Bart), who works in a more menial capacity in stationery, likes the art piece, but according to Mark, Ivan is a spineless, neurotic suck-up with no sense of intelligence. This is the crux of the argument between the three friends that ends up almost destroying their bonds.

All three actors play their divergent sides to the letter. Whitford's Mark is obnoxious and unbearable at every turn as Bart portrays Ivan as a sensitive, whimpering mess who cannot take criticism very well, but neither can Mark for that matter. Referee O'Keefe brings out the intelligence in Serge, who believes in weighing things honestly and accepting every human being for who he truly is. But he is not without his faults either, and is not afraid to criticize Ivan's tardiness and Mark's wife Paula's incessantly bad habits, to make his points. Bart is, as ever, very, very funny, and only he could get away with trying to unravel a scarf which has gotten caught in the crevices of his jacket, practically upstaging the other two as they passionately argue a point. Whether it's director Lee's or actor Bart's idea, it's a screamingly funny moment and works to show in part just how insignificant and silly all this useless fighting actually is.

This is a wonderfully intelligent and charming evening of theatre that one can see again and again, mainly due to Reza's ingenious playfulness with words. But each time the different actors bring new meaning, new nuances to the work, and this cast could not be finer, as they work their art on Art.

5 out of 5 stars

review - El Nogalar

CRITIC'S PICK
El Nogalar
by Tanya Saracho
directed by Laurie Woolery
Fountain Theatre
through March 11

Tanya Saracho's El Nogalar means The Pecan Orchard in English, so its similarity to Anton Chekhov's The Cherry Orchard rings a bell even before one sees the play. There are differences between the two, of course. Saracho has taken out most of Chekhov's male characters and leaves but one: Lopez (Justin Huen) - Lopakhin in Cherry Orchard - the grandson of servants who has risen to sudden power and wealth through Mexico's drug cartel. It's not the Russian aristocratic middle class who have lost out to the rising lower class as in Chekhov, where the bank forecloses on the Ranevsky estate, but the Mexican drug dynasty that has contaminated all Mexican citizens, allowing the poor to usurp control and money - Saracho calls it new money, Facebook money. Now in a splendidly directed and acted production at the Fountain Theatre, this West Coast premiere sizzles with earthy passion and sensuality.

It is amazing that Saracho felt the Latin connection as she studied Chekhov's plays. She saw in his female characters the whining, complaining nature of Latin women and felt it would translate perfectly to an adaptation taking place in Modern day Mexico. One thinks of Chekhov's Three Sisters or Federico Garcia Lorca's Casa de Bernarda Alba as Dunia (Sabina Zuniga Varela), Valeria (Isabelle Ortega), Anita (Diana Romo) and Maite (Yetta Gottesman) complain about their losses, long for a better life, or a return to the former one, and seeth with passion, three of them attracted to the same man, Memo or Guillermo Lopez (Huen). As in Chekhov, Maite and her daughters lose Hacienda Los Nogales amd are left in despair, both penniless and homeless. The servants Lopez and Dunia triumph, also as in Chekhov, but in this play in an openly sensual, much anticipated intertwining. The sexual tension in El Nogalar is so akin to Garcia Lorca and is most definitely Spanish, and beautifully, poetically expressed by Saracho's fine writing, which provides more layers than just the obvious restructuring of the class system.

Under Woolery's detailed direction, the ensemble pull out full fledged passionate work. Maite, though the mother, is still beautiful, as described by Lopez, and Gottesman is perfectly cast. She brings a true sense of Latin pride and vengefulness to the character. Ortega is a standout as Valeria. She makes us witness her deep-seated pain, sexual repression and longing from the very beginning. Valera as Dunia is also a standout. Hers is a tricky character to play, as she feigns loyalty with a burgeoning sense of new-found freedom beneath. We sense her  possible come-uppence as she strives to speak better English and to utilize the Internet. Valera makes her a sensually smart cookie. Huen is appropriately confused as Lopez, remembering past simplicity and unsure of his new command, and Romo as Anita exudes to the letter the spoiled whining little rich girl, who was forced to ride in 'economy class'. Frederica Nascimento's remarkable set design is a starkly decorated and sparsely lit former Spanish mans - with the stage floor opening to a pit beneath used in one scene for barbecuing a goat, made vivid with great lighting effects by Lonnie Rafael Alcaraz - and Garry Lennon's costumes suit each character, as in the plain look for Valeria, but the vibrant red party dress for Maite.

This wonderful Nogalar, with Spanish and Spanglish phrases sprinkled throughout  - that definitely do not impede listeners' comprehension - has a rich poetic hue, as with, to quote but one of many metaphors, 'the locusts raping the trees' of the orchard to describe the cartel taking control. It is beautifully written and executed  by an outstanding director and cast. A truly great evening of theatre!

5 out of 5 stars

review- Judy Garland in Concert in the All New Peter Mac Showroom in WeHo

Some great things are already happening at the very beginning of 2012. Peter Mac now has his very own showroom inside the French Market Place on Santa Monica Boulevard in the heart of WeHo called the French Quarter Restaurant Showroom. The room seats 65 and has the warm atmosphere of a small Vegas-like show palace but with a definitely distinctive Hollywood air, as portraits of the greatest Hollywood stars surround you. Opening night was Friday, January 27; the show was simply amazing, and the room was SRO. It was very exciting with Mac in top form, giving it his all, as the crowd hung on every word/note. I am so pleased that this terrific tribute artist is finally starting to get the attention he so richly deserves. Winning two Eddon Awards for Best Cabaret Artist-Male and Star Making Performer, Mac should be ranked among the best in his field, which includes the likes of Charles Pierce, Jim Bailey, Jimmy James and Steven Brinberg. He has a great singing instrument, is very funny and charismatic - and what amazing acting chops! Just when your sides are splitting as Judy Garland tells a riproaringly riotous anecdote about Noel Coward, you suddenly find yourself moved to tears, when Garland talks about the price a celebrity pays, her insecurities, but always triumphing over them and coming back a winner. This a great opening show with the promise of a sensational year ahead for Mac and his new venue.

Highlights of the evening include all the Garland favorites: "When You're Smiling", "Zing Went the Strings", "The Man That Got Away", "You Made Me Love You", "For Me and My Gal", "The Trolley Song", "Swanee" and of course "Over the Rainbow" and "I Will Come Back". Atypical Garland include: Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive" and from Dreamgirls "I Am Changing"...and from Ballroom "50% of Him", a song that Garland should have sung, but one unfortunately that got away due to her much too early demise. In fact, next month Songs That Got Away will be on tap as Mac's monthly featured show. The incomparable Bryan Miller serves as musical director at the piano and as occasional narrator.

Plays Fridays and Saturdays weekly, and every 3-4 weeks there'll be a brand new show.
Remember:
the French Quarter Restaurant Showroom inside the French Market Place @ 7985 Santa Monica Boulevard. Make reservations early, as most shows are selling out fast. Great show and have dinner first! The French Quarter is known for their truly superb cuisine.
visit:
www.FriendofJudy.com

Peter Mac Knocks 'Em Dead at the French Quarter

peter's new showroom inside the french quarter

judy with author james spada

review above!

peter's award from me proudly displayed

review - Clybourne Park

CRITIC'S PICK
Clybourne Park
by Bruce Norris
directed by Pam MacKinnon
Mark Taper Forum
through February 26

Bruce Norris deservedly  won the 2011 Pulitzer for his brilliant study of human nature Clybourne Park, which picks up where Lorraine Hansberry's A Raisin in the Sun leaves off. Now at the Mark Taper Forum, Park's director Pam MacKinnon holds tight reins over an outstanding ensemble, all of whom play two roles as the play shifts in two acts from 1959 to 2009, Chicago.

The bridge between the two plays A Raisin in the Sun (now playing at the Kirk Douglas Theatre) and Clybourne Park is the character Karl Lindner (Jeremy Shamos here), a Rotarian and supposed pillar of the community. In Raisin Karl tries to convince the Younger family, who are black, not to move to Clybourne Park, an all-white residential community. In Park he attempts to dissuade the Stoller family (Frank Wood and Christina Kirk) from selling their house to the Youngers. He offers the Youngers money to stay put. It's a selfish reason on the part of the whole community. In 1959 if blacks moved into a white residential area, the  property value would quickly depreciate, causing the majority of the other whites to move out, pure and simple. Neither family listens. The Stollers move on as do the Youngers. The waters are tested on Clybourne Street, and the Youngers face an historically long struggle for survival and recognition.

Norris portrays 1959 to the letter, showing how neighbors trusted one another, but keeping their true feelings about race under wraps. The Stollers, who are in the process of leaving Clybourne Park permanently, have their own personal tragedy to deal with. Their son after returning from the Korean War committed suicide and father Russ (Wood) has not adequately dealt with the loss. Strong Bev (Kirk) does her ingratiating best to cope and make everyone around her happy, including maid Francine (Crystal A. Dickinson), who in 1959 within her station as a black woman would never dare publicly speak her mind about her bosses' attitudes or actions. When Karl enters and puts a damper on the Stollers' move out of Clybourne Street, by explaining his reasons, all hell breaks loose, tempers rage and Russ comes out of his stuper to defend his family against the prevailing racial injustice. Act One could be classified a drama with comedic undertones, but Act Two, fifty years later, is definitely more of a comedy, as the changing mores have allowed much more freedom of speech, especially for the black couple (Dickinson and Damon Gupton) who try to defend their ancestors' struggle to get and maintain a sense of power and prestige in the changing neighborhood. They are no longer afraid to speak their minds, so when white couple Steve and Lindsey (Shamos and Annie Parisse), who are about to move into Clybourne Park, informally bring up their casual friendly associations with blacks and Steve starts telling racial jokes, he has no idea what a spark he has lit. His behavior strikes a nerve with Lena, the young black woman played by Dickinson, and the air is filled once more with an uncomfortable barrage of tense racial accusations. So, as Norris points out in the play, yes, indeed from 1959 to 2009, there have been some positive changes but human nature, unfortunately, remains unchanged. 

I particularly like the ending where we see Dan (Wood) discovering Russ' son's letter in a trunk that had been buried out under the myrtle tree in the backyard in 1959. We see Bev (Kirk) and the son Kenneth (Brendan Griffin) in the shadows behind as he writes the letter the very night he would take his own life. Kenneth was so willing to die for the racial atrocities he unwillingly committed as a soldier, so with Norris passing the letter from one generation to the next, we ask "Will this really affect changes in the way people think about others?" Maybe not enough, but it certainly cannot hurt. It's a good gesture and another poignant reminder of past actions influencing the present.

Director MacKinnon ingeniously guides 7 actors, who essay all the roles in both time periods. The entire ensemble is wonderfully sharp and on target including Dickinson, Shamos, Kirk, Wood, Parisse, Gupton and special praise to Brendan Griffin who also plays a quiet minister in Act One and an equally reserved gay man, with a terrific comedic retort in Act Two, as well as son Ken at play's end. Daniel Ostling has designed a great set - that during intermission receives just the right touches of change from the passage of time, and Ilona Somogyi, appropriate costumes to show changing trends from the 50s to present day.

Bruce Norris' thought provoking Clybourne Park is Broadway bound and should continue to shake up audiences from coast to coast with its hard-hitting comments and witticisms as it realistically depicts the ugly, undying racism that continues to plague our country's existence.

5 out of 5 stars