With plenty of PG-13 rated Borscht Belt, burlesque-style “nudge nudge, wink wink” spinning humor, Arlington’s Signature Theatre is bringing a musical bauble, the premiere of Cloak and Dagger or the Case of the Golden Venus.

It is musical theater under the confident direction of Eric Schaeffer meant to bring a respite from the real world. And that is a very good thing, given the real world lately.

Cloak and Dagger has a full complement of hard-working purposeful groaners of jokes that Milton Berle may have written, some delightful hip-swinging ala Mae West by way of Harvey Feinstein, and mugs that Sheldon Leonard once played. If those names are fresh in your mind, along with Sunday nights with Ed Sullivan, or a trip to the Catskills, or perhaps the modern equivalent, a cruise ship meandering about. You can have a ball especially if you are in the mood for some anodyne bawdiness.

As the Signature marketing material notes, the storyline is this: “Third-rate detective Nick Cutter is down on his luck when a beautiful blonde bombshell tosses a very intriguing case (and herself) into his lap. For the next 90 minutes, Nick races through every New York neighborhood in this zany, mile-a-minute whodunit.” All in early 1950’s New York City. It isn’t Stacey Keach as Mike Hammer, but as a singing detective.

Four actors play the nearly 20 roles. Well make that two actors play nearly 18 roles. The cast includes Erin Driscoll as Jessica Rabbit, oops, I meant Helena Troy. Driscoll was most recently seen at Signature in The Three Penny Opera. Down-on-his-luck Detective Nick Cutter is played by Signature newcomer Doug Carpenter. The other 18 characters are under the amusing purview of Helen Hayes Awardees Christopher Bloch and Ed Dixon.

Oh, and one other small detail. Dixon also wrote the book, music and lyrics for this world premiere production of Cloak and Dagger. His score of about nineteen numbers, including several reprised songs, is a pastiche of lyrics and melody that mimics the spoofing nature of the production and its off-beat characters. There are plenty of percussion and sax-like notes that emanate from conductor Jenny Cartney and her jazzy four-piece band that includes keyboard, reeds and drums. Colorful orchestration by Jordon Ross Weinhold adds personality to each of the characters.

Some cute songs and their titles include “A Real Woman” with a vamping Mae West (Dixon) and an animated “Shake Your Maracas” (Bloch and Dixon). Driscoll gets to use her lovely, lovely voice in a torchy number entitled “Doors Close.” Carpenter’s beefy baritone opens the show with musical introductions of what the show is about: “The Worst of Times” and “The Best of Times.” Is the score memorable? Not really. But so what.

As for the dialogue; the quips can be witty shtick delivered with a knowing glance to make sure the audience is in on it. The broad pokes at the many different people who make up New York are not meant to harm.

The show is full of old-fashioned, New York City accented car-chase speed playful dialogue. The actors move about the minimally adorned stage (Daniel Conway) through three well-used doors, matching the dialogue delivery speed. There is also a large, sturdy-appearing marquee over the doors that provides a place for large black and white photos of New York City to be seen to set a New York state of mind.

The ever-changing costumes for Block and Dixon by way of Kathleen Geldard are a bright treat of flowing silks, or perhaps polyester, character defining hats, suits with wide lapels, and bemusing cross-dressing attire. And, there is also one very special neon yellow glowing image of the Lady in the New York harbor. Wig designer Anne Nesmith certainly enjoyed herself with her campy selections. As for Driscoll, she is wrapped in a form-hugging, cardinal red pencil dress.

Up for something with amusement, silliness, and banter propelled by a lively score and excellent voices? Then head off to Cloak and Dagger at Signature Theatre. It is a screwball musical to ice you down during this summer heat wave. Marvel at what tongue-in-cheek delivery whether straight dialogue or song can prove; a good time.

Photo Gallery

Helena Troy (Erin Driscoll) sings ‘Doors Close’	Helena Troy (Erin Driscoll) tosses an intriguing case to Nick Cutter (Doug Carpenter)
The Irish Landlady (Ed Dixon) sings ‘A Real Woman’	Manny (Christopher Bloch) sings ‘An Agent’
Helena Troy (Erin Driscoll) sings ‘Chinatown Blues’	Fat Tony (Ed Dixon), Nick Cutter (Doug Carpenter) and Gino (Christopher Bloch) sing ‘Who Put the Mob In’
Stanley (Christopher Bloch) and Helena Troy (Erin Driscoll)	Nick Cutter (Doug Carpenter, center) and Pinsky’s Chorus Girls sing ‘Shake Your Maracas’

Photos by Margot Schulman

Cast

• Nick Cutter: Doug Carpenter
• Helena Troy: Erin Driscoll
• Character Man Two: Christopher Bloch 
• Character Man One: Ed Dixon

Artistic and Design Team

• Book, Music & Lyrics by Ed Dixon
• Directed by Eric Schaeffer
• Orchestrations: Jordon Ross Weinhold
• Music Director: Jenny Cartney
• Scenic Design: Daniel Conway
• Costume Design: Kathleen Geldard
• Lighting Design: Collin K. Bills
• Sound Design: Lane Elms
• Wig Design: Anne Nesmith
• Stage Manager: Julie Meyer

Disclaimer: Signature Theatre provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

Throughout American Century Theater’s production of Abby Mann’s Judgment at Nuremberg, ensemble members portraying Nazis and their victims act as silent witnesses — ghosts, if you like — whose presence provides context for the legal proceeding at its heart. But these are not the only ghosts haunting any production of this powerful script: the memory of the Stanley Kramer’s 1961 film, with a brilliant cast including Spencer Tracy, Burt Lancaster, Maximilian Schell (who won an Oscar for his performance), Richard Widmark, Montgomery Clift, Judy Garland, Marlene Dietrich, and even the then young and pretty William Shatner is hard to keep out of one’s mind when viewing the stage version of Mann’s story.

At the center of the play is retired American judge Dan Haywood (Craig Miller), brought to Germany to preside over the 1947-48 trial of German judges who had collaborated, or actively participated, in Nazi-era injustices. The headline-grabbing war crimes trials, convicting Goering and other leading Nazi figures, were already complete, and the looming threat of a Cold War confrontation with the Soviet Union was leading many to believe gaining support from a revived German nation was more important that pursuing justice against smaller fish.

Haywood is the very figure of what we would want an American judge to be: low-key; kind; seeking the intellectual, historical, and cultural background of the case; understanding of the complexity of human motives; and focused entirely on justice, notwithstanding considerations of realpolitik. Miller is utterly believable in the role, never showy, always inhabiting the character. Some of his best moments are those in which he expresses uncertainty — “I don’t know what to think,” he says more than once. Even when delivering the sternest of judgments, he does do in a compassionate tone. Without attempting to channel Spencer Tracy, Miller makes Haywood a memorable and admirable figure.

In what is the play’s showiest role, defense attorney Oscar Rolfe, Steve Lebens does, to an extent, channel Maximilian Schell’s take on the role. A brilliant advocate, adept at devastating cross-examination, he acknowledges the horrors of the Nazi regime while, as a German patriot, he insists that it is not right to brand the entire German nation as criminal, something he sees as the inevitable implication of the trial. As he questions witnesses who were treated brutally in the defendants’ courtrooms, trying to show that there may have been a legally sound basis for executions and sterilizations, he knowingly reopens their emotional wounds. Lebens is at is best when facing the moral compromises of his own position, attacking people he knows to have been victims on behalf of persons who he knows acted unjustly, not only in the cause of his lawyer’s obligation to zealously defend his clients but in the cause of defending the honor and future of his nation.

The tragic principal defendant, Ernst Janning (Michael Replogle), was a leading jurist and legal scholar before and after the Nazis took power. He gave credibility to the Nazi legal system, and he personally and knowingly made unjust decisions on behalf of that system. As Haywood comments toward the end of the play, Janning loathed the evil he did, yet still chose to do it. In the film, Burt Lancaster gave Janning a commanding presence, dominating even those scenes in which he had no lines, proud even in taking responsibility for his crimes. Replogle takes the role in a quite different direction, displaying less gravitas while giving Janning a somewhat diffident, almost academic air, with an overlay of humility, more willing to admit, in his voice and body, that his choices in life have defeated him.

The approach Replogle takes to Janning is echoed, in one important respect, by Karen Rosnizeck’s Mrs. Bertholt. Both members of the pre-Nazi elite, they hated Hitler and his followers not so much for their evil as for their middle-class grossness. Mrs. Bertholt recounts a story in which Janning told Hitler to his face that he was too “bourgeois,” and Janning himself recoils at sharing prison quarters with his fellow prisoners, who in addition to their corruption were not the sort of people with whom he would ever have shared time and space. Mrs. Bertholt is the widow of a Wehrmacht general hanged for his part in the Malmedy massacre (the murder of 84 American POWs during the Battle of the Bulge). Aristocrats both, they despised the Nazis but supported the war as patriotic Germans defending their country. This class division among the Germans, and Hitler’s success in co-opting the old elites despite their disdain for him, are sometime-forgotten aspects of the period’s history that Mann illuminates in the script.

Rosnizeck’s Mrs. Bertholt is a gracious, civilized figure whose expropriated house provides quarters for Judge Haywood. Rosnizek’s portrayal emphasizes Mrs. Bertholt’s bitterness over her husband’s execution and over the entire war crimes trial enterprise — she stalks out of the final court session after the guilty verdict is announced — but could have benefitted from an additional touch of world-weariness. Rosnizeck also served as the production’s accent coach, and she and the actors playing German characters deserve credit for very credible German accents.

Colonel Ted Lawson (Bruce Alan Rauscher), his memory seared by the sight of the Dachau concentration camp, is appropriately aggressive as the prosecutor, seeking to punish as harshly as possible anyone associated with the Nazi regime. Frequently over-matched by Rolfe as a trial tactician (apparently to the point of neglecting to cross-examine one defense witness), Lawson sometimes gives way to his frustration, yet has the overwhelming moral force of responding to Nazi atrocities on his side (he shows films of the death camps at one point in the trial). A stronger sense of the overwhelming anger eating away at Lawson’s soul would have been a welcome added dimension to Rauscher’s portrayal.

Mann’s script is filled with short character roles, all of which were played successfully. Christopher Henley, as Rudolph Peterson, a now-timorous and nervous victim of sterilization, and Mary Beth Luckenbaugh, as Maria Wallner, a victim of a show trial that resulted in the execution of an elderly Jewish friend, stood out. Luckenbaugh chose to make the character angrier, and less destroyed, than the equivalent character in the movie, played by Judy Garland. The choice worked.

This was one of American Century’s more ambitious shows technically. Sean Allan Doyle’s complex sound design included such items as excerpts from Hitler’s speeches, Nazi marches, snippets of Wagner, bird sounds in the prison courtyard, and a clang when a prison sequence began. They all fit the occasion and were cued impeccably. The production made extensive use of projections (credited to Patrick Lord and Shayne Weyker), for settings (e.g., the courtroom, the prison, scenes of the city, though not any of Nuremberg in its late-40s bombed-out state) and for the films of the carnage of the concentration camps. These were shown at one end of the oblong playing area, with a distracting but probably unavoidable cutout around the defendants’ dock. In the playing area, with audience seating on either side, Patrick Lord’s set design featured the defendant’s area at one end, the judges’ elevated bench at the other, set dressing pieces in between. The set worked effectively for the courtroom scenes but was less evocative for some other settings, such as the Judge Haywood’s residence, a bar, or the venue of a concert that Judge Haywood attended with Mrs. Bertholt.

Rip Classen’s costumes were appropriate to the period and the characters. Particular blessings upon him for getting the right color for U.S. Army uniform jackets of the era, something I have seen done wrong in more productions than I care to think about. The most notable, and very effective, feature of Marc Allan Wright’s lighting design were the four large fluorescent ceiling fixtures, which provided harsh illumination in the courtroom scenes, especially when they came on quickly following a scene with lower lighting.

Along with the Shakespeare Theatre in Washington, American Century consistently produces the best and most interesting dramaturgical material in the area. The Audience Guide for Judgment at Nuremberg is one of the most valuable the group has produced, containing fascinating history of the events portrayed in the play as well as thought-provoking discussions of the legal and ethical issues raised by the war crimes trials. Even if you don’t pick up a copy — and I recommend doing so — this is a play to see not only as well-produced and acted theater, but as a springboard for thought and discussion about matters that have a great deal of contemporary resonance.

Director’s Notes

Judgment at Nuremberg deals with the Allied war-crimes trials held just after World War II, in which significant players in the Nazi regime were made to answer for their actions between 1933 and 1945. Specifically, it treats the portion of the trials that dealt with judges who decided cases during the Third Reich that sent defendants to grisly fates, often on trumped-up charges. (Names have been changed in Abby Mann’s play, but the characters are based quite closely on real historical figures and actual trials.)

Much as the play deals with a particular slice of modern history, it sadly remains relevant today, as war-crimes, genocides, imperialist invasions, and politically-motivated kangaroo courts fill the daily news-stream. Mann told his story first as a life television play, then as a star-studded Hollywood motion picture, and finally as a Broadway play — keeping much of the material intact from medium to medium. We’re presenting the Broadway script, adding selected material from the film, and introducing a framing device that brings “ghosts” from Hitler-era Nuremberg into a silent dialogue with Mann’s eloquent writing.

In the published edition of Mann’s Broadway play, there is an optional narration that starts the action. I felt it would make more sense to print it here rather than including the device of a theatrical narrator in the staging. The playwright starts with a telling point about the continuing legacy of the Nuremberg trials and gives us a concise bit of context for the events you will see unfolding on the stage. Mann, in his “narration” writes:

On January 1, 2001, then President Clinton signed the Rome Treaty for an International Criminal Court. He said, “In taking this action, we reaffirm or support for international accountability and for bringing to justice perpetrators of genocide, war crimes, crimes against humanity based on our involvement in the Nuremberg tribunals that brought Nazi war criminals to justice.” Senator Jesse Helms of North Carolina called Mr. Clinton’s decision “as outrageous as it is inexplicable. I have a message for the outgoing President. This decision will not stand.” Many others echoed Helms’ objections, including President Bush. Their reason was it could inhibit the ability of the United States to use its military to meet alliance obligations and participate in multinational operations.

The first of the Nuremberg trials were concluded on October 1, 1946. Herman Goering, Reichsmarshall. Charged with conspiracy, crimes against peace, war crimes, crimes against humanity. The verdict: guilty on all accounts. The sentence: death by hanging. Rudolph Hess, Deputy Fuhrer. Verdict: guilty on two counts. Sentence: life imprisonment. Joachim von Ribbentrop, Reich Minister for Foreign Affairs. Verdict: guilty on all counts. Sentence: death by hanging.

Nuremberg, Germany. October 1, 1946. The conclusion of the trial of 22 top Nazis accused of war crimes. Twelve were sentenced to death. Three were acquitted. Seven received prison sentences ranging from ten years to life.

October 16, 1946. The sentences of death were carried out. Julius Streicher. Von Ribbentrop. Wilhelm Keitel. Ernst Kaltenbrunner. All except Herman Goering who cheated the hangman by taking his own life.

The first of the Nuremberg trials were over. Still to come were twelve more trials of 177 diplomats, generals, SS officers, high Nazi officials, doctors, judges, directors of IG Farben, leading German business and professional men, whose cooperation was essential to the success of the Nazi conspiracy.

We hope you find the play as compelling as the actors and I did while working on it.

Photo Gallery

Ellie Nicoll as Mrs. Halbestadt. Background: Jean Miller as ghost	Christopher Henley as Rudolph Peterson. Background: Tel Monks as Judge Ives
Michael Replogle as Ernst Janning, Kim Curtis as Emil Hahn, Victor Gold as Werner Lammpe, Tom Fuller as Frederick Hoffstetter.	Mary Beth Luckenbaugh as Maria Wallner. Background: Tel Monks as Judge Ives.
Bruce A. Rauscher as Colonel Lawson. Background: Kim Curtis as Emil Hahn, Tom Fuller as Frederick Hoffstetter.	Karin Rosnizeck as Frau Bertholt, Craig Miller as Judge Haywood.
Paul Klingenberg as Judge Norris, Craig Miller as Judge Haywood, Tel Monks as Judge Ives.	Michael Replogle as Ernst Janning, Craig Miller as Judge Haywood.
Steve Lebens as Oscar Rolfe, Michael Replogle as Ernst Janning.

Photos by Johannes Markus

Cast

• Colonel Lawson: Bruce Alan Rauscher
• General Merrin: Lyle Blake Smythers
• Judge Haywood: Craig Miller
• Captain Byers: Jorge A. Silva
• Judge Ives: Tel Monks
• Judge Norris: Paul J. Klingenberg
• Emil Hahn: Kim Kurtis
• Frederick Hoffstetter: Tom Fuller
• Werner Lammpe: Victor Gold
• Ernst Janning: Michael Replogle
• Oscar Rolfe: Steve Lebens
• Dr. Wickert: Ron Sarro
• Mrs. Halbestadt: Ellie Nicoll
• Frau Bertholt: Karin Rosnizeck
• Rudolph Peterson: Christopher Henley
• Dr. Gueter: Larry Kolp
• Maria Wallner: Mary Beth Luckenbaugh
• Elsa Lindnow: Vanessa Bradchulis
• Feldenstien: Jay Delehanty
• Ensemble: Alan Diaz, Paul Alan Hogan, Colin Martin, Jean H. Miller, Lynley Peoples, Gray West

Production Staff

• Director: Joe Banno
• Production Manager: Ed Moser
• Stage Manager: Lindsey E. Moore
• Set Design/Projections Design: Patrick Lord
• Projections Research: Patrick Lord
• Costume Design: Rip Claassen
• Lighting Design: Marc Allan Wright
• Sound Design: Sean Allan Doyle
• Assistant Stage Manager/Board Operator: Chris Beatley
• Master Carpenter: Michael Salmi
• Scenic Painter: Stephanie Chu
• Assistant Carpenter/Scenic Painting: Alex Kellogg
• Master Electrician: Juan Ramirez-Cortes
• Wardrobe Assistant: Cathering Casino
• Publicist: Emily Morrison
• Photography: Johannes Markus
• Program Design: Michael Sherman
• House Manager: Joli Provost
• Outreach Coordinator: Maia Falconi-Sachs

Disclaimer: American Century Theater provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

Synetic Theatre continues to expand its artistic repertoire and unfold beyond the security of its tried-and-true “silent” Shakespeare works. It is a risky, but quite laudatory venture, to continually evolve by stepping out of a comfort zone from time-to-time. After all, a performing arts organization cannot just stand pat, even with successes, for the world can be such a fickle place always looking for the next new pretty thing.

So in an about face from its normal stance, Synetic has taken on the very verbal foolishness of upper-class, bored, supercilious Brits in the late 19th century. One way to describe Synetic’s current production of Three Men in a Boat (To say nothing of the dog) is this; it is composed of fuel from a 125-year-old book that turns into an evening of often timeless “pythonesque” sketches along with one deeply affecting scene that could happen right this moment. It is full-up with dialogue.

The comic novella source for the theatrical Three Men in a Boat (To say nothing of the dog) is a 1889 book written by Jerome K. Jerome ( 1859-1927). The book remains still in-print with qualities that make it a precursor to “Beyond the Fringe” and “Monty Python” madness.

Under the admirable hand of playwright and director Derek Goldman, the Synetic production is an affectionate, droll affair about a fortnight boating holiday on the Thames River by three, often smug but quite likeable, young male friends and a scrappy fox terrier. There are plenty of unforeseen comic troubles and disruptions along the way.

Three Men features actors new to Synetic including Tim Getman, Rob Jansen and Tom Story. They join Synetic stalwart Alex Mills. They play young men trying to escape from the hustle and bustle of their self-described overworked lives. Here is one character’s description of the stress they live: “goes to sleep at a bank from ten to four each day, except Saturdays, when they wake him up and put him outside at two.”

The production features fine work by Getman as the physically hearty George, Jansen as the reflective Harris who finds church grave yards places of interest, and Story as the instigator and narrator Jerome. Mills is outfitted as Montmorency, a fox terrier with a mind of his own. The story begins by introducing all the characters as they are spending an evening together; drinking, smoking and discussing their various illnesses as they read over the Merck manual of the day. Between their hypochondria and a sense of overwork, a holiday is in order. And so a boating trip up the River Thames and back over for a fortnight is in order. It is to be with physical labor of rowing and camping out-of-doors as a form of recreation. Right!

After packing their things with a mantra “We must not think of the things we could do with, but only of the things that we can’t do without,” they set off. Over the course of the intermission free 100 minutes, they find themselves with regular, less than satisfactory happenstances, usually caused by their own failings and too-proud behavior.

Wanting to open a tin of food they discover they forget to bring an opener. Wanting to freshen up some meat for a meal, they discover they forgot the mustard to make it palatable. The weather does not exactly cooperate as the forecasts are “always wrong.” And then there is an episode about making an Irish stew full of leftovers found in a wicker food hamper with an added dead river rat fetched by their faithful fox terrier. Each of these scenes involves verbal gymnastics with plenty of amusing running about choreographed by Synetic’s resident Helen Hayes awardee choreographer Irina Tsikurishvili.

It is a show with polite humor, “Everything has its drawbacks, as the man said when his mother-in-law died, and they came down upon him for the funeral expenses.” But it is far from just quick humor. One particular scene of sad affect leavens the comedy. Without warning, the men find something floating in the river. “Sometimes, our pain is very deep and real, and we stand…very silent, because there is no language for our pain.”

Ivania Stack’s costume design for the production are an amusing blend of colorful boating attire and natty smoking-room attire done up straw hats and other appropriate regalia including two-tone shoes. Her dog costume for Mills includes pieces such as paws, some here and there body parts and a hat with small pointed ears. Scenic design by Lisi Stoessel begins as a drawing-room and morphs into a small boat as a child would do, moving set pieces about to suggest the presence of a boat. The actors do the moving. The Thames River and shore landmarks are done thought nicely accomplished projections the handwork of Shane O’Laughlin. The projections give off the slow-moving up the Thames. The lighting design is a special joy when night scenes take the audience as far from Crystal City as is doable with delicious magical stars that are projected well beyond the stage area.

Three Men in a Boat (To say nothing of the dog) is a leisurely trip “far from the maddening crowds.” It is an easy-going night of entertainment. It is often enough a cheery, feathery production with plenty of chuckles and charm. It is also a tip of the hat to the importance of enduring, intimate friendships to share what life brings, whether good or bad. It is a seductive little piece.

Synetic Theater has successfully moved well beyond its usual formula of “silent” Shakespeare with a light-hearted Three Men in a Boat (To say nothing of the dog). This production is an amiable comedy that extends the reach of Synetic’s artistic territory. It may also have you go to YouTube to search for some of your favorite Monty Python routines as well. Nothing wrong with that.

Photo Gallery

Tom Story as Jerome, Tim Getman as George, Rob Jansen as Harris and Alex Mills as Montmorency.	Tom Story as Jerome.
Rob Jansen as Harris and Alex Mills as Montmorency.	Rob Jansen as Harris, Tom Story as Jerome.
Tom Story as Jerome, Alex Mills as Montmorency.	Alex Mills as Montmorency.
Tim Getman as George, Rob Jansen as Harris, Tom Story as Jerome, Alex Mills as Montmorency.	Projections by Shane O’Loughlin.
Alex Mills as Montmorency, Tom Story as Jerome, Rob Jansen as Harris.	Rob Jansen as Harris, Tom Story as Jerome, Alex Mills as Montmorency, Tim Getman as George.

Photos by Koko Lanham

Cast

• George: Tim Getman
• Harris: Rob Jansen
• Montmorency: Alex Mills
• Jerome : Tom Story

Artistic and Design Team

• Written and Directed by Derek Goldman
• Choreographer: Irina Tsikurishvili
• Scenic Design: Lisi Stoessel
• Costume Design: Ivania Stack
• Lighting Design: Brittany Diliberto
• Sound Design/Multimedia Engineer : Thomas Sowers
• Props Master Kasey Hendricks
• Music Director: Joshua Morgan
• Resident Stage Manager: Marley Giggey
• Projections Design: Shane O’Laughlin
• Production Manager: Ann Allan
• Technical Director: Phil Charlwood
• Vocal Coach: Robert Bowen Smith
• Assistant Directors: Alex Miletich & Elena Velasco
• Light Board Operator: Mary Grant
• Assistant Lighting Designer: Zach Dalton
• Wardrobe: Igor Dmitry
• Assistant Stage Managers: Nate Shelton & Sofia Shultz

Disclaimer: Synetic Theater provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

In the polished, strongly sung production of The Threepenny Opera at Signature, there are still stings of social critique from Brecht and Weill that make their marks in the venom-laden book and score.

Signature’s marketing material describes The Threepenny Opera as ,” a satirical commentary on politics, poverty, injustice and corruption at all levels of society. The haves clash with the have-nots while Macheath, the ultimate sneering anti-hero, perches in the middle of the storm.”

With that as a preface, The Threepenny Opera directed by Gardiner (Tender Napalm, Dreamgirls, Really Really) is a work of musical theater artistry. The adaption Gardiner uses is the 1994 work of Robert David MacDonald (book) and Jeremy Sams (lyrics). They moved the originally conceived Brecht and Weill proceedings from its Queen Victoria moorings, to a “not-too-distant future” Great Britain. Queen Elizabeth II has passed away and her grandson, Prince William, is to be crowned King. MacDonald and Sams also added in contemporary cultural references in both book and lyrics.

Threepenny begins with a terrific, gritty brass and reed-centric eight-piece jazz band under the wonderful musical direction of Gabriel Mangiante. The overture brings us into the fray. A dark-haired woman slowly steps into view: dead center. Lights, little by little, come up on her. We are introduced to a seedy world by a street-walker named Jenny (a raw, hooded-eyes, hypnotic Natascia Diaz). She is clearly street-wise, but lost, almost dead in the eyes, as she ever so slowly, enunciates each word, each syllable of the lyrics “The Flick Knife Song” about the crook, rapist, sadist and quick with a knife, Macheath (Mack the Knife).

I simply cannot image being Diaz taking this iconic song on. Jeez, think about the many versions of this song, and the number of artists who have sung it. Diaz had to sweep them away to get the show up and running. She took the audience by its collective neck with one hand to bring them into the rough world of Threepenny Opera. Diaz did that and more. With each word and syllable, her diction pure, her darkly tinged voice drew the audience into her world. She effectively grounded Threepenny Opera.

Then, she dropped her grip and the show went on. Throughout the show, Diaz in her singing and appearances, projects pain and being battered with an “I will get by attitude.” She is not so emotionally broken that she can’t or won’t find ways to strike back at those who did her ill.

We next come to meet the smooth, slick charm of Bobby Smith in his role of Jonathan Peachum, the boss of London’s beggars. A man of self-interest, he takes a cut of each beggar’s take. He is one of Macheath’s adversaries.

A stronger, more vigorous antagonist of Macheath is Mrs. Peachum. Donna Migliaccio gives a delightfully spirited, fare-thee-well to the evils of Mrs. Peachum. With a raspy, well-lived life voice, Migliaccio gives off a special dislike for Macheath. After all he has taken her daughter Polly in marriage. But, even deeper, is Mrs. Peachum’s disdain for marriage in general as she claws through “The Ballad of Sexual Imperative” with its lyrics suggesting marriage as just another form of prostitution.

Soon enough, Macheath appears in the guise of a raffish, supposedly good with a blade, Mitchell Jarvis. Even with inked arms, he did give off shivers in his initial entrance and time with his good-old boy cronies. He came alive later when paired with the women characters such as Polly or Jenny. His brings some comic relief to the whole affair at the top of Act III with his solo “The Ballad of Easy Life.”

The bright-eyed, full-of-life Erin Driscoll is the Peachum’s daughter, Polly. She appears first as an innocent kitten. With a blond, curly bob and her fair-skin, she is set visually against the dark-haired, olive-skinned Diaz as feminine engines of the production. As the play progresses, she reveals her own greedy, tough-minded self, including desires for the right kind of rougher man to bring her fulfillment. When she sings “Pirate Jenny,” first as a tease than as an authentic being, she is a woman truly seeking revenge on those higher up in the economic food chain.

Rick Hammerly is cast as Lucy Brown, another of Macheath’s lovers; a cute touch; just this side of campy. It is an enjoyable moment to watch as Hammerly and Driscoll argue through song and body language over the love of Macheath in “Jealousy Duet” when both show up in the jail where he is locked up. John Leslie Wolfe as Jackie “Tiger” Brown a police inspector on the take gives off a believable corrupted characterization with an air of authority.

The graffiti-strewn scenic design by Misha Kachman at the MAX is a two level affair. The band is on the top level along with characters who sometimes look down upon the main floor with its mixing bowl of action. A moving electronic stock market ticker and neon signage festooned the set. The electronic ticker also crawls with phrases such as “the greatest human force is human selfishness” and “wolves devour sheep.” Rocco DiSanti is credited with the video design. One cunning, contemporary touch is the use of smartphones to take pictures.

Frank Labovitz’s costumes let us know who is who quite readily. There is a thuggish or hip-hop look for some, suits for the rich folk and an assortment of styles. Polly has a saucy outfit and the prostitutes the usual black lingerie.

As The Threepenny Opera ends, loose ends tied up and all is again right with the world, the show closes with a plea for generosity to the less fortunate and the homeless; “For life today is cold and grey and ghastly, And living it is punishment enough.” Strong sentiments indeed, but delivered and missed. Perhaps it is the zeitgeist or the constant 24/7 media cycle of the social media-centric world outside the MAX.

Three Penny is a work of artistic excellence; accessible to a wide-ranging audience. As for raising outrage at economic inequality or the trafficking of women into prostitution; those are much different questions. Are there too many decades since the 1928 Berlin world of Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill and their particular type of sharp critique of Capitalism? I wonder what Thomas Piketty author of the current best-seller, “Capital in the Twenty-first Century” might ponder?

Reviewer’s Note: “Mack the Knife” has been recorded as a jazz and pop standard by oodles of performers such as Louis Armstrong, Bobby Darrin, Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra to name a few. For your reviewer, I was imprinted with Lotta Lenya who came into my world through my parents, as well as Marianne Faithfull and one who made a very early impression, the late German comedian and actor Wolfgang Neuss used by Ernie Kovacs on his ground-breaking comedy television show from about 1960.

Cast

• Macheath (Mack the Knife): Mitchell Jarvis
• Jenny: Natascia Diaz
• Mr. Peachum: Bobby Smith
• Mrs. Peachum: Donna Migliaccio
• Polly Peachum: Erin Driscoll
• Tiger Brown: John Leslie Wolfe
• Lucy Brown: Rick Hammerly
• Matt of the Mint: Paul Scanlan
• Crook-Finger Jake: Sean Fri
• Chainsaw Bob: Ryan Sellers
• Fitch/Weeping Willow Walter: Aaron Bliden
• Smith/Reverend Kimball : Thomas Adrian Simpson
• Jimmy/Nelly: Jessica Thorne
• Betty: Jamie Eacker
• Vixen: Katherine Renee Turner
• Dance Captain: Jamie Eacker

Musicians

• Conductor/Keyboard: Gabriel Mangiante and Jacob Kidder
• Reed 1: Ben Bokor
• Reed 2: Ed Walters
• Trumpet 1: Chris Walker
• Trumpet 2: Brent Madsen
• Trombone: Adam McColley
• Guitar: Gerry Kunkel
• Percussion: Joe McCarthy

Artistic and Design Team

• Books & Lyrics by Bertolt Brecht
• Music by Kurt Weill
• English translation of dialog by Robert David MacDonald
• English translation of lyrics by Jeremy Sams
• Directed and choreographed by Matthew Gardiner
• Musical Direction by Gabriel Mangiante
• Dialect Direction by Lynn Watson
• Scenic Design by Misha Kachman
• Costume Design by Frank Labovitz
• Wig Design by Anne Nesmith
• Lighting Design by Colin K. Bills
• Sound Design by Lane Elms
• Video Design by Rocco DiSanti
• Production Stage Manager: Kerry Epstein
• Assistant Director and Dramaturg: Paige Kiliany
• Assistant Director: Walter Ware III
• Assistant Stage Manager: Erin C. Patrick

Disclaimer: Signature Theatre provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

In The American Century Theater (TACT) audience guide for Arthur Kopit’s 1960 Oh Dad…, Artistic Director Jack Marshall lists 23 reasons why otherwise interesting plays drop out of sight and end up being produced by TACT. Oh Dad… scores in eight of Marshall’s 23 categories (e.g., unfortunate titles, a bias against older plays, bad movie versions, difficult technical challenges). TACT’s production, capably directed by Tyler Herman, is an inspired bit of theatrical archeology, bringing strong acting and excellent production values to a show that has lost none of its weirdness in the intervening 54 years.

The weirdness inheres in the principal characters: Madame Rosepettle (Robin Reck), a domineering monster of a mother; Jonathan (Tony Strowd), her cowed and hapless son; and Rosalie (Emily Erin), a seeming ingénue turning ravenous. And yes, dad — or at least a taxidermist’s preservation of his remains — does hang in the closet, though, truth to tell, none of the characters appear to feel particularly sad about it. It’s just part of the abnormal normal of the Rosepettle world.

TACT holds opening the house until a relatively brief time before the performance. Then the five members of the chatty bellboy crew usher patrons to their seats. The bellboys work for the Hotel Libre in post-revolutionary but pre-embargo Havana. Madame Rosepettle is their guest from hell, peremptorily ordering them about as they bring her varied belongings into the suite. There are suitcases to be sure, but most travelers to Caribbean destinations do not arrive with a pair of Venus Fly Traps who play guitar and percussion (Steve Przybylski and Vaughn Irving) or a Siamese kitten-munching fish named Rosalinda (Anna Lynch).

In 1943, Phillip Wylie (a writer best known previously for co-authoring the science fiction classic “When Worlds Collide”) wrote “Generation of Vipers,” a curmudgeonly whack against almost everything American, most famously mothers and “momism.” Wylie would have loved Madame R., who dominates Kopit’s script almost as much as she dominates her son. Bossy, cynical, ready to disdain and devour anything in her path, Reck’s Madame R. can use her womanly wiles to entrap males (traveling with Venus Fly Traps is surely no accident), for whom she feels only contempt. Her feelings about sex are close to hate; her favorite hobby seems to be strolling the beach at night harassing couples making out on the sand. Madame R. has a lengthy monologue in the second half of the script in which she makes her feelings and motives extremely, scarily clear. It goes on too long, becoming somewhat tedious, which I ascribe far more to Kopit’s writing (he wrote the piece quickly as part of university playwriting competition) than Reck’s acting, which never flags in energy and specificity. It’s quite a tour de force of absurdity, which Reck pulls off by taking her character fully seriously.

Jonathan — who Madame R. insists on calling by a series of names not his own — is a mass of neuroses and dysfunctions, including obsessive attachments to his stamp and coin collections and a homemade telescope, a nearly total lack of social skills, and a timorousness bordering on the pathological. With his tense, hunched-over stance; his thin, squeezed voice he is almost afraid to hear; and the predominance through most of the play of his flight response; Strowd creates a vivid physical character. Change for Jonathan arrives not with a characteristic whimper but a destructive bang, unfortunately for vegetable, animal, and human characters in proximity to his sudden rage. Strowd makes the rapid transition thoroughly credible.

When we first see Erin’s Rosalie, she looks every bit the dewey-eyed girl next door, denying Madame R.’s accusation of seamier activities while charming the easily-spooked Jonathan. Later, however, in her younger, more sexual way, she is revealed as a female predator in her own right, a worthy potential successor to Madame R. in Jonathan’s life. What Erin’s performance makes clear is that Rosalie hasn’t changed between her earlier and later scenes; rather, Erin reveals more and more of what Rosalie has been all along. She plays Rosalie’s final attempt to seduce Jonathan as a near-rape seizure of power over him, making his resulting panic attack understandable.

While I found plenty of reasons to admire the three principal performances, I must confess that my favorite character was the fish. Named after Dad’s mistress, Lynch’s Rosalinda was apparently pre-set under a cloth-covered table, emerging only when the bellboys bring on a large aquarium in which she then pops up, her face in orange makeup and wearing an orange headpiece suggesting fins. Lynch, while maintaining an undulating underwater-like motion, is gleefully attentive and responsive to everything and everyone on stage. Rosalinda has no intelligible spoken lines, and Lynch forms her character completely physically, with only her head and neck visible during most of the show, until a final choreographed moment that appears to illustrate (or perhaps to have inspired) Marshall’s program note comment that “freer can mean dead.” If it was impossible to take one’s eyes off Rosalind, no matter what else was going on, it wasn’t just because the aquarium was center stage.

The bellboys (Jorge A. Silva, Brian David Clarke, Andrew Quilpa, Chema Pineda-Fernandez, and Manolo Santalla), in addition to their prop-moving chores, act as a sort of chorus to the demented goings-on. They move and respond delightfully as they deal with people even more unusual than the general run of touristas. Silva also stands in for Dad as Madame R. describes the course of her marriage, and Santalla doubles as Commodore Roseabove, an elderly yachtsman who Madame R. tries to snare and who somewhat improbably becomes the closest thing in the play to a sane character.

Oh Dad… was one of the more prop-intensive shows I have seen recently, and Kevin Laughon’s collection — including a dictaphone, jury-rigged telescope, a coffin, stamps, coins, suitcases, wooden boxes, and many others — added greatly to the look of the show. The set (Kaite Wertz) consists of blue panels forming the angled walls of the hotel suite, with an alcove on stage left for the musicians/Venus Fly Traps. For the final scenes, the panels swing around to become the pink walls of Madame R.’s master bedroom, decorated with miscellaneous objects from her presumed travels. A bed unit rolls out, tilted high to make the action readily visible as Rosalie tries to bed Jonathan. In a particularly creepy effect, various hands, alien-like, ripple the pink sheets under Rosalie as she works at enticing her prey.

Most of the sound track of the show is provided by the two costumed musicians, who play a variety of Latin sounds for atmosphere as well as providing some precisely timed effects. Sound designer Thomas Sowers also provides occasional ambient sound, such as buzzing flies or an overflying airplane. Costumer Jacy Barber put the bellboys in blue jackets and caps, while Rosalie is in a print dress emphasizing the surface of her character and nicely concealing the predator beneath. When Madame R. is attempting her seduction of Commodore Roseabove, she wears a low-cut black outfit, while Jonathan is in a sports shirt and tie with shorts, emphasizing his enforced childhood status (not out of short pants at 20). Aside from the aforementioned headpiece, Rosalinda is in a fetching orange and cream body suit, while the musicians inevitably don green and yellow Venus Fly Trap getups. In all these respects, TACT’s Oh Dad… is a production that never fails to look good.

What does it all mean? Madame R. asks the question at the show’s conclusion, and Marshall’s answer is that the play is “the scream of the Fifties begging to be let out of its sterile, gray, restrictive, black and white room into the psychedelic and violent Sixties to come,” even though the playwright couldn’t be aware of it at the time he wrote the script. That, I suppose, depends on one’s view and experience of those decades. From my perspective, the comment may not do justice to the 50s, a much more interesting and dynamic decade than it is often given credit for. Given its acting and technical virtues, however, the TACT production is not simply a piece of historical and cultural commentary but a lively, highly engaging theatrical experience.

Director’s Notes

A leap of faith. It’s when you know you have to get to the other side, but you can’t for the life of you figure out how you’ll get there, so you take the plunge anyway. As a senior at Harvard when writing the play, Kopit was smart, probably very frustrated, not knowing what the real world would hold. American culture was straining to break out of the ’50s and into…anything else. We now know that the ’60s yielded space exploration, the shattered romantic notions of the post-war peace, and the broken boundaries of sexual, pharmacological, and racial tolerance.

I find this play strikingly relevant. Conversations with my peers constantly swirl around finding independence and autonomy under a tired government and stringent career hierarchies. Gone are the days of playing with model airplanes and Legos, of building forts with my grandmother’s couch cushions. What will be my place in the time to come? And what tricks does my mind play to scare me away from the less comfortable possibilities?

My mother tells the story of holding my oldest brother in her arms, days after giving birth, laughing out loud and saying to him, in words he could not understand, “Why do you trust me to hold you? You have no idea that this is my first time, too.” At its heart, I see Oh Dad as the story of a mother who has no idea how to parent her child and tries to love him with the only things she knows — protection and power. We see this through the eyes of her son, who also has no idea how to live life and tries to experience it by whatever means available. The dark comedy comes out as Jonathan succeeds and fails. He reminds us of the faces we all make when we realize there’s no net to catch our fall.

We all go through big life changes with unknown outcomes. Whether it’s puberty or parenting, political revolutions or personal resolutions, breaking the norms or pushing comfort zones, everyone fears what will come. But that doesn’t stop us from taking a leap of faith. And sometimes it takes a little song in our hearts to push us that extra mile.

Photo Gallery

Bellboys: Chema Pineda-Fernandez, Brian David Clarke, Jorge A. Silva, and Andrew Quilpa	Manolo Santalla as Commodore Roseabove and Robin Reck as Madam Rosepettle
Emery Erin as Rosalie, Tony Strowd as Jonathan	Tony Strowd as Jonathan. In back Steve Przbylski (guitar) and Vaughn Irving (drums) as Musical Venus Flytraps
Emery Erin as Rosalie, Anna Lynch as Rosalinda the Fish and Tony Strowd as Jonathan	Tony Strowd as Jonathan
Tony Strowd as Jonathan, Manolo Santalla and Jorge A. Silva as bellboys and Robin Reck as Madam Rosepettle

Photos by Johannes Markus

Cast

• Madame Rosepettle: Robin Reck
• Jonathon (her son): Tony Strowd
• Rosalinda (her fish): Anna Lynch
• Rosalie: Emery Erin
• Commodore Roseabove: Manolo Santalla
• Bellboys: Jorge A. Silva, Brian David Clarke, Andrew Quilpa, Chema Pineda-Fernandez, Manolo Santalla
• Musicians/Composers/SuperFly Traps: Steve Przybylski, Vaughn Irving

Production Staff

• Director: Tyler Herman
• Production Manager: Ed Moser
• Stage Manager: Sarah Kamins
• Assistant Director: Annalisa Dias
• Assistant Stage Manager: Lindsey E Moore
• Set Design/Scenic Artist: Katie Wertz
• Costume Design: Jacy Barber
• Lighting Design: Jason Aufdem-Brinke
• Sound Design: Thomas Sowers
• Properties Design: Kevin Laughon
• Master Carpenter: Michael Salmi
• Master Electrician: Jorge A. Silva
• Seamstress: Sandy Smoker
• Publicist: Emily Morrison
• Photography: Johannes Markus
• Program Layout: Michael Sherman

Disclaimer: American Century Theater provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

What a jolt! What a rush! What mayhem being dished up.

I had just witnessed a gripping, brutal mixed martial arts battle at Signature Theater. It was chock full of verbal strikes and grappling, spoken punches and jabs, uttered thrusts and parries as two characters, He and She circled each other, taking their measure of one another. They were caged together, each holding the other’s leash.

There was not a visible wall in sight to keep the two from escaping one another. They didn’t want to.

At the very same performance, from the same two characters, I witnessed tender acts of generous protection and unconditional love. The two made sure that things did not totally fall apart so that only one would be victorious; only one left standing and breathing. They needed each other so much. The alternative was to be alone to live with demons that would have consumed them.

What was it that left such a strong impression? Signature’s production of Tender Napalm, a 2012 work written by British playwright Philip Ripley. Ripley is a rare sighting in the DC area. According to the Signature marketing material the last seen of his work, The Pitchfork Disney, was produced about two decades ago by Woolly Mammoth. Ripley seems to be known as an “In-Yer-Face” provocateur. Now that is no understatement.

“I imagine this play as the headspace between two people who have been in a long relationship,” stated Tender Napalm director Matthew Gardiner (Signature Theatre’s Really Really and Dreamgirls; Ford’s Theatre’s The Laramie Project), “As if two people who are so close could dream or have a nightmare together. It is the place where they are able to fully speak their minds. Philip Ridley seeks to reinvent the language of love, and the results are stunning.” Gardiner delivered the goods.

Tender Napalm features Laura C. Harris (Bachelorette at Studio Theatre; Seminar at Round House Theatre; The Winter’s Tale at Folger Theatre) as She and Elan Zafir (Off-Broadway in Romeo & Juliet, Inner Workings of Man, Peter Pan) as He. They are nameless in the production. Both are making their Signature Theatre debuts. They are matched well visually; she petite in stature with eyes that carry strength and hurt, while he has a softness often hidden under a gruff exterior. They are both fearless and believable.

So, what is the story line your reviewer writes about so breathlessly? Let’s have Mr. Ridley speak for himself. “In essence, it’s a very simple theatrical story: a man and a woman are locked at a crucial point in their relationship. They love each other but something terrible has happened.” His two very damaged people do what they must to survive.

Ripley has created a number of connected playlets of a few minutes length each to make up a 90 minute, intermission-free whole. It is a balanced power between the characters. Each has the opportunity to take the lead, even at times providing stage directions to the other. It works as they thrust and parry, but always on the look-out to rescue one another. Some might see the characters presenting just special fetishes; others might see a ritualistic game of switching Dominance and Submission.

The couple had met years before as teenagers, quickly fell in love, and seemed to have had and lost a young daughter. Now they find themselves adrift on an island, somewhere between real life and imaginary worlds after a tsunami has destroyed everything. They are, or see themselves, as alone as survivors with monkeys, sea serpents, UFO’s, as well as creepy visions and a wonderfully sweet story of unicorns.

Under Gardiner’s tight, unyielding vision for Tender Napalm, there is a remarkable physicality. Nothing is static, even when the cast is just sitting. There are scenes of great menace, of eye-popping destructive fantasy, as well as absolute tenderness. In a blink, power in the production is seamlessly exchanged between the two actors.

The scenic design by Luciana Stecconi is a boxing ring set square in the middle of the ARK about a foot off the floor. There are no ropes surrounding the ring to keep the action contained. The two characters do that all on their own. The floor of the ring has a glossy sheen through which under-lighting from Colin K. Bills changes the atmospherics. Laree Lentz’s costumes are loose-fitting garments; Harris in jeans and a delicate top and Zafir in a three-button cotton pullover and khaki slacks. Their outfits give them an everyday appearance. Neither has a domineering outward appearance.

This is a challenging play for mature audiences. No doubt about that. Be warned, some language may seem offensive, but stick with it. This is certainly a production in which ritualistic anger can seem to rule, with verbal skills replacing physical contact. But it works. There is balance between the two characters. Each has the opportunity to be a top. Zafir gets to be King for a time, and Harris an opportunity to be Queen.

Ripley’s Tender Napalm fascinates because there is a special kind of shared devotion at its core even with the frenetic life the audiences witnesses. It works because of sweet moments such as near the end. We are watching the couple languidly dances together, if only for a few fleeting seconds. They dance to a snippet of what sounds like variations on the melancholy of Erik Satie’s “Trois Gymnopedies.”

Tender Napalm will rivet an adventuresome audience because Ripley’s characters and story have a complexity to chew on. It is far from quiet moonlight reflecting on a placid sound in summer. But, in its own way, is it so far from the reality that we may occasionally think in our heads, but dare not speak?

Note: Tender Napalm contains strong language; for mature audiences only.

Photo Gallery

Elan Zafir and Laura C. Harris	Laura C. Harris and Elan Zafir
Laura C. Harris and Elan Zafir

Photos by Christopher Mueller

Cast

• Woman: Laura C. Harris
• Man: Elan Zafir

Creative and Design Team

• Directed: Matthew Gardiner
• Scenic Design: Luciana Stecconi
• Costume Design: Laree Lentz
• Lighting Design: Colin K. Bills
• Sound Design and Original Compositions: Eric Shimelonis
• Production Stage Manager: Julie Meyer

Disclaimer: Signature Theatre provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

• The Island of Dr. Moreau, September – October 2014
• Beauty and the Beast, December 2014 – January 2015
• Much Ado About Nothing, February – March 2015
• Hunting Cockroaches, May – June 2015

More information may be found at the Synetic Theater web site. Schedule is subject to change due to performance rights conflicts or other issues. Specific dates of performances and auditions are yet to be announced.

The art of silence and physical movement are Synetic Theater’s unique forte. The company is justly acclaimed for the past twelve years of producing classic plays without dialogue. The remounting of its first success, the multi-Helen Hayes Award recipient production, Hamlet…the rest is silence is a jewel. The current production joins the premier at the Church Street Theatre in 2002 and the 2007 revival at the Kennedy Center as an evening to relish for its inventive, non-spoken take on The Bard’s words and rhetoric.

If you have seen the show before, re-acquaint yourself with it; there are major cast changes. If you have never ventured to Synetic’s Crystal City venue, this is one to see.

But first, let’s start before the show began the other evening. In his program notes, director Paata Tsikurishvili wrote that “the image onstage creates a passageway to a new truth, the doorway leading to palpable emotion.” He wants to “engage the audience’s imagination and compel your involvement in the creative process…”

While the Synetic program does not contain a synopsis of Shakespeare’s “Hamlet” it does name the 14 scenes that make up the show. For those familiar with Shakespeare’s text the scene names are ones that will bring knowing nods. They are such as “Something is Wrong in the State of Denmark,” “To Be Or Not To Be,” “Get Thee to a Nunnery,” “The Mousetrap,” “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead,” “Alas, Poor Yorick” and the like.

For those not familiar with the text, reading a synopsis of the source play by William Shakespeare may be helpful, though far from necessary. What is happening on the stage will be evident, no matter what a character’s name or the silence of the actors’ voices. The show is described by Synetic’s marketing folk as “a silent rendering of the iconic tale of a grief-stricken prince torn between duty, love, conscience and fear.” And that is what we see.

The night your reviewer attended the performance, the last speaking before the next 90 minutes, was from Paata Tsikuishvili. He stood before the audience introducing the evening’s press night performance. There was something different about Tsikuishvili this night. He was quieter, almost wistfully introspective. Soon enough it became apparent why. He was handing over some of the keys to a valued piece of his kingdom. Speaking from his heart, Tskurishvili said “Hamlet was my first baby…there is a lot of me in this production.” This time, while he is still the director as in 2002 and 2007, another actor was to play Hamlet. He was like a veteran ball player or maybe in a more DC metaphor, a long-time politician; knowing it was time to leave the limelight, but it still hurt. (Though perhaps other current international events may cast its own pall.)

Then, it was time for the lights to dim and the show to go on.

Hamlet…the rest is silence even without any dialogue heard, but surely felt, remains a story of the impossibility of certainty in life. Who and what is to be trusted is like mercury in one’s hand; far from solid. For Hamlet, decisions are not easily made; there is just so much to think about, with much time wasted on indecision or mistaken actions that lead to any number of deaths. As for love that is right before him, Hamlet knows not how to accept it. All love is tainted. Finally, there is plenty of madness and foolishness, real and feigned.

Multi-Helen Hayes Award recipient Alex Mills is a smooth-faced, youthfully handsome Prince Hamlet. He is no fair-haired actor playing at have a tortured soul after his father’s murder sends him into melancholy. He readily shows his gloom and the pain within himself with facial expressions, tentative actions and twisted upper body movements. Without words he paints his internal turmoil. His physical movements and dance steps are his words. Avenging the death of his father is his goal. His mother’s disloyalty has made him done with love. Mills is plainly lost in a sad world, some of his own making.

Hamlet even pushes away Ophelia (played by the radiant beauty Irina Kaavasdze who later quite capably goes quietly mad with darkened eyes and slumped shoulders) is the woman who loves him. Claudius (Irakli Kavsadze a hulking, stocky, barrel-chested, Putin-like alpha male) has not only taken the throne from Hamlet’s ghost of a father (the long-limbed, soft-featured Philip Fletcher ) but quickly wooed away Hamlet’s mother Gertrude (the ever sinewy, cat-like presence that is Irina Tsikurishivili).

With original music and music credited to Giya Kanchell, Alfred Schmittke, Johannes Brahms and Gustav Mahler, the audience is pulled into the emotions of the performance. Without knowing a character’s name or hearing a famous quote the audience is readily aware of what is transpiring. Movement choreography devised by Irina Tsikurishvili includes dances such as a sultry tango between Claudius and Gertrude as Hamlet watches in utter dismay, to prancing steps by an entourage of hangers-on as Claudius crowns himself King, to funereal slow flapping of a dozen arms like large birds to give more darkness to death scenes.

Several particular scenes stand out for their clout. These include one between Mills’ Hamlet and Kaavasdze’s Ophelia as they dance with their hands and fingers a breath away from each other; never quite touching, let alone kissing. One can feel the ache from Kaavasdze as she wants to fully engage Mills in love but to no avail. There is but one tiny touch, a sweet movement by Kaavasdze slowly sweeps a finger across Mills’ check over to wipe away a tear. Later there is a scene at Ophelia’s suicide in which Kaavasdze moves through water composed of the ensemble’s moving bodies some of which appear to be lily pads that Monet would marvel at. Another time human bodies become a vessel moving over water that is a striking visual effect.

The key play within-in a play of Shakespeare’s Hamlet is a delightful descent into guilt. Featuring Irina Koval as Player Queen and Philip Fletcher as Player King, it is a smash. What starts as a concocted comedic endeavor slowly transforms and struts itself into its real purpose; to “out” those that Hamlet believes killed his father. It is a duet dance initially full of high spirits and silliness. It turns into heated sensuality to shame and unmask the guilty. Koval is one sassy, saucy, teasing enchantress. But what makes the scene so effective is to glance behind the cavorting dancers to see the slow fuming of Claudius and Gertrude as they begin to understand what the dancing is about…them.

A technical design element that becomes doorways, windows, caskets, boats and mirrors into the soul are a number of movable ladder-like objects. They are about six feet or so in height. Each is held and moved about by the actors producing visual impact and vivid imagery. Costumes are clear as to guilt and innocence. Most everyone wears head-to-toe black. Only the kingly ghost and Ophelia wear white. And Ophelia’s costumes change as she descents into her own Hell, from a shimmering pure head-to-toe pure white to a smudgy, off-white that becomes splotched with grime as her madness overtakes her.

Hamlet…the rest is silence remains a story of the impossibility of certainty in life. Who and what is to be trusted is like mercury in one’s hand. All is far from solid. For Hamlet, decisions are not easily made; there is just so much to think about first, so much time wasted and indecision. As for love set right before him, well his pain makes it impossible to see love. Synetic’s Hamlet…the rest is silence is an achievement to be experienced for the first time, or once again.
 

Photo Gallery

Irina Tsikurishvili as Gertrude and Alex Mills as Hamlet

Photos by Johnny Shryock

Cast

• Hamlet: Alex Mills
• Irina Tsikurishvili: Gertrude
• Claudius: Irakli Kavsadze
• Polonius: Hector Reynoso
• Ophelia: Irina Kaavasdze
• Laertes: Scott Brown
• Ghost/Player King: Philip Fletcher
• Player Queen: Irina Koval
• Ensemble/Priest: Lorne Britt
• Gildenstern: Zana Gankhuyag
• Rosencrantz: Randy Snight
• Gravedigger/Osric: Vato Tsikurishvili
• Ensemble: Janine Baumgardner
• Ensemble: Emily Whiteworth

Production and design team

• Directed and adapted by Paata Tsikurishvili
• Choreography: Irina Tsikurishivili
• Original Set, Props, Costume Design: Georgi Alexi-Meskhishvili
• Sound Designer: Iralkli Kavsadze
• Sound Editor: Konstantine Lortkipanidze
• Lighting Design : Brittany Diliberto
• Props Master: Kasey Hendricks
• Costume Coordinator: Claire Cantwell
• Stage Manager: Marley Giggey
• Production Manager: Ann Allan
• Master Electrician: Jesse Sutten
• Sound Engineer: Thomas Sowers
• Technical Director: Phil Charlwood
• Light Board Operator: Justin Janke
• Wardrobe: Emily Price
• Assistant Lighting Designer: Brittany Shemuga
• Assistant Stage Manager: Nate Shelton and Sofia Shultz

Disclaimer: Synetic Theater provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

• The Wedding Singer, Fall 2014
• The Comedy of Errors, Winter 2015
• Annie, Spring 2015

More information may be found at the Arlington Players web site. Schedule is subject to change due to performance rights conflicts or other issues. Specific dates of performances and auditions are yet to be announced.

I brushed aside the movie version of “Beaches” that was playing in my head when I walked in to see the world premiere musical Beaches, now at Signature Theatre. The musical is upon based upon the 1985 novel by Iris Rainer Dart. The new musical’s book is by Dart and Thom Thomas. Ms. Dart also wrote the lyrics.

I made sure to silence Bette Midler’s 1988 hit “The Wind Beneath My Wings” in my head as well. I wanted to clearly see and hear what was before me at this production.

As always before a show, I read the program notes to see what hints they gave of the playwright’s or director’s thinking behind the production. Dart wrote of a friend’s comment from decades before; “When one of us dies, I hope it’s me first because I wouldn’t want to live on a planet that didn’t have you on it.” She mentioned a statistic she had located that “a large percentage of women said if they were ever forced to choose, they would give up their husbands before they would give up their best friends.” Ok.

Dart added, “I think the reason that Beaches affects people is because when our time comes, all of us would want to be able to exit laughing with our best friend beside us. Go home and call your best friend tonight.” Ok, fair enough.

I wondered, was I to be a stranger in a strange land?

With that said let’s move on to the actual production of Beaches. First, the musical is affectionately directed by Signature Theatre’s Artistic Director Eric Schaeffer. He has a soft hand in bringing this diary of two friends to an audience. The creative team includes Ms. Dart (book & lyrics), Thom Thomas (book) and David Austin (music). The score has about twenty new songs. The new music by Austin with lyrics by Dart are all one could ask for. The score is mood-setting with each song reminiscent of a certain time, adding emotional value to the spoken words of the script. There is, of course, a performance of “The Wind Beneath My Wings.”

Beaches follows the thirty-year, complicated friendship of two women, Bertie and Cee Cee, who met as little girls on the beach of Atlantic City, NJ in 1951. In the days before social media, they became the 1950’s equivalent of digital BFF’s: letter writing by hand pen-pals. Their deep friendship perseveres through many a bump. They remain constant friends, well mostly, through the perils of growing up with dysfunctional parents, personal hardships, work choices, marriages, divorces, children, infinite differences in their personalities and the ultimate ending all face in life.

The two fictional friends are played by Alysha Umpress as Cee Cee and Mara Davi as Bertie. They are as good as gold in their acting prowess. Their vocal talents simply shine. Matthew Scott portrays Cee Cee’s husband with felt feelings. His vocal abilities are well deserving of the two solos he has (including a teasing cute “Ce-Celia) and a duet with Umpress of “Enough” presenting the ends of a failed marriage. The cast of four young women (Maya Brettell, Gracie Johnson, Presley Ryan and Brooklyn Shuck) who play younger versions of adults Bertie and Cee Cee are a delight; they are totally in sync with their roles from the get-go. Donna Migliaccio has a way with Yiddish words with a great big guttural hardness from the back of the throat. She is Cee Cee’s Jersey Jewish Mom. Helen Hedman is a classic in her role as Bertie’s very traditional uptight, protective waspy mother.

The musical propels forward with a mix of songs about life. There is a reflective ballad from Cee Cee “God Gave You Me”; a send-up, over-the-top, disco number “(I’m) All I Need” by Cee Cee and Ensemble, a delightfully choreographed performance by the three Bertie’s and three Cee Cee’s as they think about life as a wife, “My Perfect Wedding” and “Normal People” with Cee Cee and Bertie dreaming of living as roommates on the beach. “The Wind Beneath My Wings” comes later in Act II.

The scenic design by Derek McLane is wholly visually interesting. Surrounding an old-fashioned proscenium arch are stacked up high, wall to ceiling, oodles of faded into a grey tone beach furniture. The sound is often of the Jersey shore or California beach with lapping waves. Costumes for Umphress are often a bawdy visual joy while those for Davi are restrained, worn with a classy dignity.

The hitch for this reviewer in moving from book to musical, is that Dart has had to gloss over things. The character of Cee Cee seems so not a very nice person. It is not her brashness but her self-centered, “it is all about me” attitude that she projects to everyone. Over the course of the show’s two and half hours, Cee Cee bullies her BFF Bertie, humiliates a husband, dumps a boyfriend in the middle of the night without a second thought, and gives not a hoot for those who depend on her for paychecks as back up performers She regularly just says, nope, no performance tonight; leaving others with no money and the audience unhappy. For the most part, Cee Cee comes off as funny and brassy, but selfish with an utterly “me first, I am needy” attitude. That is until the last fifteen minutes.

Bertie, as the character is written, is bound by limiting convention. She is nearly submissive. She trades in an over-bearing mother, a one-dimensional crappy husband, for the overbearing, insecure BFF Cee Cee who needs to be the center of all attention. And then Cee Cee gets to float off as a savior as the play ends.

Perhaps I missed that Cee Cee has some clearly seen, touching vulnerabilities to humanize her beyond two musical numbers. She is her own Momma Rose.

There is so much to enjoy in the acting, singing and technical presentation of Beaches. I was no stranger in a strange land. Yet, as the show ends into a fade, I just couldn’t help but wonder how things would be if we paid a visit to Cee Cee ten years down the line. I hope all would be well not for her so much, but for all those who came into her life and depended on her.

Photo Gallery

Presley Ryan as Little Cee Cee, Brooklyn Shuck as Little Bertie	Beaches Ensemble
Mara Davi as Bertie, Alysha Umphress as Cee Cee and Beaches ensemble	Cliff Samuels as Michael Barron, Mara Davi as Bertie and Alysha Umphress as Cee Cee
Mara Davi as Bertie	Alysha Umphress as Cee Cee
Mara Davi as Bertie and Alysha Umphress as Cee Cee

Photos by Margot I. Schulman

Cast

• Bertie: Mara Davi
• Cee Cee Bloom: Alysha Umphress
• Michael Barron: Clifton Samuels
• John Perry: Matthew Scott
• Leona Bloom: Donna Migliaccio
• Rose White: Helen Hedman
• Young Bertie: Brooklyn Shuck
• Young Cee Cee: Presley Ryan
• Teen Bertie: Maya Bretell 
• Teen Cee Cee: Gracie Jones
• Karen Lewandowski/Nina: Svea Johnson
• Arthur/Melman/Ensemble: Michael Bunce
• Nurse/Ensemble: Bayla Whitten
• Ensemble: Jamie Eacker
• Ensemble: Heather Brorsen
• Ensemble: Davis Hasty
• Ensemble: Dan Manning
• Ensemble: Ryah Nixon
• Ensemble: Robbie Roby

Creative Team

• Director: Eric Schaefer
• Book & Lyrics : Iris Rainer Dart
• Book: Thom Thomas
• Music : David Austin
• Music Director: Gabriel Mangiante
• Choreography : Dan Knechtgest
• Musical Supervisor: Mary Mitchell Campbell
• Orchestrations: Lynne Shankel
• Scenic Design: Derek McLane
• Costume Design: Frank Labovitz
• Lighting Design: Chris Lee
• Sound Design: Lane Elms
• Wig Designer: Elyse Horner
• Production Stage Manager: Kerry Epstein
• Assistant Stage Manager: Stephanie Junkin
• Associate Choreographer: Jessica Hartman
• Assistant Director: Nick Martin

Disclaimer: Signature Theatre provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.