Some advertisements and reviews of past productions of Peter Ackerman’s 1999 comedy of post-coital misunderstanding, Things You Shouldn’t Say Past Midnight, currently playing at the Keegan Theatre, have described it as a “bedroom farce,” bringing to mind one of those contraptions with seven doors, disguises, mistaken identities, multiple quick entrances and exits, and cardboard characters, in which, despite scripts stuffed with coy sexual innuendo, no one actually winds up in bed with anyone. Michael Frayn sent up the genre brilliantly in Noises Off.

Fortunately, that description does not actually apply to Things You Shouldn’t Say Past Midnight. True, it does take place mostly in bedrooms — three of them, in fact — in which Ackerman’s quirky sextet of characters does get to enjoy a good deal of horizontal recreation. The ensemble cast delivers not only one well-conceived laugh line after another but also highly satisfying character development along the way. Each of the actors creates a vivid, individual portrait.

The play begins with Nancy (Caroline Wolfson), in the throes of passion, uttering an intentionally indistinct bit of ethnic inappropriateness (the sort of thing, notwithstanding the play’s title, that might well be problematic at any time of day). Her boyfriend of six months, Ben (Michael Innocenti, who also designed the set), an earnest Jewish grad student, can’t resist teasing out her exact words and cross-examining her as to what she intended or implied by them. This results in a spat that spins out of control when Ben notes that since one can never be fully sure of the truth of someone’s self-representation, it is possible — just hypothetically — that a seemingly straight man — himself, for example — might actually be gay. Ultimately, this sends Nancy, an immigrant from the relatively sheltered world of small town Oregon, fleeing into the wilds of the Big City at 3 a.m., where she seeks refuge at the apartment of her best friend, Grace (Allison Corke).

Grace, a free-spirited, and unsurprisingly unemployed, art history major, has just one thing in mind: sex with her latest hook-up (though they have hooked up for five nights in a row, a seemingly long winning streak for such an arrangement). She is turned on by the fact that Gene (Peter Finnegan) is an older, working-class guy who has never been to college and is yet well-established in his career, that of a hit man for some minor league mobsters. Ackerman has fun with the role reversal here, as Grace’s laser focus on simply getting it on in the sack contrasts with the fastidious, rather kindly, professional killer’s desire for a bit of conversation, perhaps augmented with a snuggle, along the way. Gene even wants to hear something about art history, which Grace testily obliges with a riff about how bad shoes can become art objects.

Grace rings up her friend Mark (Kevin Hasser), a gay psychotherapist who is also Gene’s younger brother, to advise Nancy on her worries about Ben’s sexual orientation, only to reach Mark as he is enjoying the bedtime company of his much older companion, Mr. Abramson (Timothy J. Lynch), a carpet merchant. This leads to the show’s primary set-piece, a verbal circus of a three-way call involving Grace, Gene, and Nancy in one bedroom, Mark and Mr. Abramson in another, and Ben in the third.

Each of the three pairs of actors creates a believable couple dynamic and all succeed in the key task of being funny by ensuring that their characters take themselves perfectly seriously. The actors and director Colin Smith keep the rapid-fire lines fluid and perfectly timed, never letting the comic momentum flag. The only point at which matters slow a bit is toward the end of the show, as Ackerman’s script has the characters perhaps too readily learning their lessons of acceptance and compromise, which Ackerman follows up with a brief coda as the three couples — after the lights have gone down — once more make good use of their beds.

Innocenti’s set is simplicity itself, as befits a show that began life off-Broadway: three bedrooms, spaced across the stage at slightly different height levels. Allen Sean Weeks’ lighting design provides the area lighting necessary for the transitions from one bedroom to another. Kelly Peacock’s costumes fit the time of night and the varying moods resident in three bedrooms, with the contrast between Gene’s conservative pajamas and Grace’s racier nightwear being especially fun.

A number of reviews of previous productions of Things You Shouldn’t Say Past Midnight in other cities criticized the play for being too facile, going for easy laughs in sitcom-like fashion. (Indeed, DirecTV has announced that, beginning this month, it is producing a 10-episode show based on the play.) It may possibly be that some other productions of the play simply were not as skillfully executed as Keegan’s. The present production is an overwhelmingly funny rendering of Ackerman’s script: I cannot remember such a constantly uproarious audience reaction since the last good production of Noises Off I saw. But there is something more not far under the surface of the laughs, as the comedy springs from the emotional distress produced when people exalt categories (e.g., Jewish/non-Jewish, gay/straight) above the individuality of others in their lives. Both in terms of its humor and the underlying emotions, the Keegan production far exceeds the impact one would expect from a sitcom.

The Cast

• Nancy: Caroline Wolfson
• Grace: Allison Corke
• Ben: Michael Innocenti
• Gene: Peter Finnegan
• Mark: Kevin Hasser
• Mr. Abramson: Timothy Hayes Lynch

The Production Team

• Director: Colin Smith
• Assistant Director: Brianna Letourneau
• Scenic Design: Michael Innocenti/Colin Smith
• Lighting Design: Allan Weeks
• Costume Design: Kelly Peacock
• Sound Design: Dan Deiter
• Properties Designer and Set Dressing: Carol Hood Baker
• Hair and Makeup Design: Craig Miller
• Stage Manager: Megan Thrift

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

Once upon a time in political America, party conventions to nominate Presidential candidates were colorful, exciting, and important occasions. The Republican convention split between Taft and Roosevelt partisans in 1912 led to Teddy’s Bull Moose campaign and the election of Woodrow Wilson. The all-time record-setter was the 1924 Democratic convention, which took 103 ballots to nominate John W. Davis (30 years later he was the losing lawyer in Brown v. Board of Education), who Calvin Coolidge promptly defeated. The regular Democrat, Dixiecrat, and Progressive splinters at the Dems’ 1948 convention led pundits to believe that Dewey would readily defeat Truman. The last exciting floor fight over a nominee took place in 1956 when, after Democratic presidential nominee Adlai Stevenson left the vice-presidential choice to the convention, crime- and trust-busting Sen. Estes Kefauver defeated a young upstart from Massachusetts, John Kennedy, for the honor of losing to the Eisenhower-Nixon ticket. Since then, save for an occasional interesting speech (e.g., Goldwater in 1964, Obama in 2004) or extraneous event (e.g., the Chicago police riot of 1968), political conventions have declined into the drab, tedious infomercials that they are today.

In the 1960 political convention at the center of Gore Vidal’s The Best Man, now playing at the Keegan Theatre, two very different men vie for the presidential nomination. Principled, witty William Russell, the smartest man in the room but one who lacks a political killer instinct (think Adlai Stevenson, with a touch of JFK’s wealthy background and sexual appetite), is played by Mark A. Rhea. His opponent is the ambitious, unscrupulous Joe Cantwell (a main course of Richard Nixon, served with sides of Kefauver and Joe McCarthy), played by Colin Smith. They both seek the endorsement of a Trumanesque former President, Art Hockstader (Kevin Adams), who has doubts about them both. The play does not depict an idealistic, issues-oriented campaign like that of the final season of The West Wing. This is politics red in tooth and claw.

The dramaturg’s program note tells an amusing story concerning the original production of the play, namely that Ronald Reagan was considered to play Russell, but that Vidal felt that he was not presidential enough. Ironically, what turns out to be the major flaw of the Keegan production is that Rhea’s gravitas-challenged Russell is not presidential enough. With a hurried and at times muffled line delivery and a too-narrow emotional range, Rhea does not paint a picture of someone who would seriously contend for high national office. As written, Russell is a character who creates doubt, in Hokstader among others, that he has what it takes lead the country. Rhea’s buttoned-up portrayal never eases that doubt. A reasonable man need not be unimpassioned.

By contrast, Smith’s Cantwell is a thoroughly credible Nixon-like figure (even to his five o’clock shadow), desperate to win and almost preferring to do so by foul means rather than fair. Vidal’s writing of the character, and Smith’s portrayal, get at a key element of Nixon: his bone-deep resentment of Eastern establishment types like the Kennedys to whom life and power came all too easily. For someone like Cantwell, who has had to fight and scrap his way to the top, using Russell’s mental health history to force him out of the race is not only expedient but also satisfying. (Writing in 1960, Vidal was prescient in thinking that a candidate’s previous mental health problems would be political dynamite, as Thomas Eagleton discovered in 1972 when a similar history resulted in his being replaced as George McGovern’s running mate.) One of the strengths of Smith’s performance is that he allows the audience not only to see the unlikable traits of his character but also how Cantwell’s anger and resentment would resonate with voters.

The most powerful character, and most powerful performance, of the play is Adams’ Hockstader. With a folksy demeanor linked to a razor-sharp mind and a keen sense of what it means to acquire and exercise power, Hockstader unflinchingly faces reality, not only that of politics but of his own mortality. This is a character one can believe was a successful president.

Among the supporting cast, Michael Innocenti stands out as a frightened rabbit of a man bearing damaging information about Cantwell, while Rena Cherry Brown is perfect as a party committeewoman determined to make sure that the candidates appeal to “the woman’s point of view,” as she sees it in those pre-Betty Friedan days. Alice Russell (Sheri Herren) is a shy woman, not a natural in politics, who despite her estrangement from her philandering husband is willing to play the supportive political wife. It is not clear whether her calm, even demeanor is a matter of self-possession or depression. Susan Marie Rhea plays Alice’s counterpart, Mabel Cantwell, as a blowsy good ol’ gal who is genuinely in love with her husband, shares his ambitions, and is considerably brighter than she seeks to appear. Of all the characters in the play, Mabel is the one who would be most likely, in today’s world, to appear on a TV reality show.

The set (Michael Innocenti) features a spacious suite in a hotel that is showing its age, complete to the wrinkled fabric on the sofa. The same set is used both for Cantwell’s and Russell’s digs, the difference being indicated be either a Cantwell or Russell banner being lit. The sound design (Dan Deiter) is strong on sounds from the convention floor that the candidates hear directly or on television. The pre-show music emphasizes stirring orchestral music (parts of Copland’s Appalachian Spring and Fanfare for the Common Man are featured, musical quotations that Russell would surely recognize and Cantwell would not), while the intermission and second act music trends to jazz and period popular tunes. The costumes (Erin Nugent) are period-appropriate, down to the men’s narrow ties. Alice’s and Mabel’s dresses are nicely tuned to their characters.

Originally opening in March 1960, The Best Man was likely intended as a commentary on contemporary events. In its revivals, including two Broadway productions this century as well as the current staging at Keegan, the play can’t help becoming something of a nostalgia piece about a style of politicking long since relegated to the history books. But most nostalgia exercises don’t benefit from the dark wit and satirical edge of Vidal, whose palpable delight in skewering people and institutions, along with several strong performances from the Keegan company, keep life in the old script yet.

Photo Gallery

Kevin Adams	Mark A. Rhea & Rena Cherry Brown
Mark A. Rhea	Susan Marie Rhea & Colin Smith
Susan Marie Rhea & Colin Smith	Colin Smith

Photos by C. Stanley Photography

The Cast

• Catherine: Belen Pifel
• Joseph Cantwell: Colin Smith
• Clyde Carlin: David Jourdan
• Ensemble: Jim Howard
• Arthur Hockstader: Kevin Adams
• William Russell: Mark A. Rhea
• Ensemble: Mary Andrus
• Ensemble: Mary Egan
• Sheldon Marcus: Michael Innocenti
• Dr. Artinian: Nello DeBlasio
• Don Blades: Peter Finnegan
• Sue-Ellen Gamadge: Rena Cherry Brown
• Alice Russell: Sheri Herren
• Dick Jensen: Stan Shulman
• Mabel Cantwell: Susan Marie Rhea
• Ensemble: Todd Baldwin

The Production Team

• Director: Christina A. Coakley
• Director: Timothy H. Lynch
• Set Design: Michael Innocenti
• Lighting Design: Katie McCreary
• Costume Design: Erin Nugent
• Costume Assistant: Brittany Harris
• Sound Design: Dan Deiter
• Properties and Set Dressing: Carol H. Baker
• Properties Assistant: Katrina Wiskup
• Dramaturg: Trudi Olivetti
• Stage Manager: Megan Thrift
• Assistant Stage Manager: Jen Grunfeld

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

A trip to the theatre is a therapeutic experience; transporting someone to a new and different world can ease anyone’s worrisome mind. Likewise, the prospect of a productive and insightful rehearsal can invigorate any theatre practitioner. On the other hand, horror creates a different effect: unknown entities that go bump in the night can stir up feelings of suspense, unease, and wariness. Indeed, combining these two forms of storytelling makes for an interesting challenge.

Keegan Theatre’s The Woman in Black not only celebrates this challenge, but overcomes it with enthusiasm. With two superb performances by Matthew Keenan and Robert Leembruggen, they production embraces the play’s innovative style. Furthermore, the haunting light and sound designs by Michael Innocenti and Tony Angelini, respectively, make for a spine-tingling and sometimes whimsical adventure that will leave you begging for more.

Stephen Mallatratt’s play is based on Susan Hill’s 1983 gothic novella of the same name, premiering in 1987 to wild appraisal. Mallatratt’s book follows a play-with-a-play narrative. It revolves around Mr. Arthur Kipps (Leembruggen), a solicitor who wishes to tell to his family and friends the tale of his experience in Crythin Gifford, a small market town, where he was sent to sift through the various documents of the late Alice Drablow in her home, Eel Marsh House. In Mrs. Drablow’s home, Kipps experienced hauntings by a mysterious entity simply monikered “the woman in black.” In doing describing the accounts, Kipps hopes to lay his fears of the ghost to rest.

At his aid is an actor (Keenan), hired by Kipps to make his delivery of the tale a little less tedious. The play begins with a heated argument — the actor believes that Kipps’ 5-hour ‘line-reading’ will leave his audience in tears (as the actor constantly assures his pupil, “we’ll make an Irving of you yet!”). Kipps eventually allows the actor to play his younger self while he takes on the roles of the various country folk he encountered upon visiting Eel Marsh House.

The energy between the two actors is positively delightful. Leembruggen’s take on the timid and fearful Mr. Kipps contrasts beautifully with Keenan’s sardonic performance as the actor. They are both accomplished actors and masterful storytellers. Keenan is as charming as he is convincing when playing Kipps’ younger self. He negotiates seamlessly between his role as the young solicitor, the story’s narrator, and as Kipps’ acting coach.

Special recognition goes to Leembrugger who plays each townsperson with professional distinction. His performance, in particular, makes the narrative all the more clearer. Undoubtedly, should another actor have played Kipps, the audience might have found themselves lost in Mallatratt’s complex tale. As for the dreaded woman in black, you’ll just have to see for yourself!

Colin Smith’s set design immediately transports the audience into a sparsely dressed Victorian playhouse which mirrors perfectly as the haunted home. Like many of Keegan’s past productions, The Woman in Black makes brilliant use of the theater’s red brick walls — it creates an intimate environment that is absolutely necessary for a play of this kind. Even the theater’s dusty smell completely immerses the audience into the world of the play.

The lighting design, with its use of exaggerated shadows and intense front lights, is reminiscent of the film noir style. Much of the design is subtle — as an audience member, I found myself subconsciously looking around to catch a glimpse of the “young woman with the wasted face.” Finally, the sound design is what makes this ghost story so terrifying: it plays with the notion that what we don’t see is what scares us the most. Filled with a cacophony of altered voices, screams, and creaking doors, Angelini’s sound design creates an eerie atmosphere that would make film directors like James Wan and Dario Argento proud.

Overall, Keegan Theatre’s The Woman in Black is a strong piece of theatre and a truly chilling ghost story. The play’s length is its greatest strength: were it any longer the experience would have quickly grown tedious, but were it any shorter, the audience would arguably have left unsatisfied. It may not be the most thought-provoking piece of theatre, but it is, without a doubt, a play you do not want to miss. Thank you, Keegan, for once again giving DC theatre-goers an experience we have not seen in a while.

Photo Gallery

Matthew Keenan	Robert Leembruggen
Robert Leembruggen, Matthew Keenan	Matthew Keenan, Robert Leembruggen
Matthew Keenan	Matthew Keenan

Photos by Cameron Whitman

Cast

• Matthew Keenan: Actor
• Robert Leembrugger: Mr. Kipps

Crew

• Mark Rhea: Co-Director
• Colin Smith: Co-Director and Scenic Designer
• Carol Floretta Hood Baker: Set Dressing and Properties Design
• Tony Angelini: Sound Design
• Michael Innocenti: Lighting Design
• Dan Deiter: Stage Manager
• Craig Miller: Hair and Make-Up Design
• Kelly Peacock: Costume Design

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

Keegan Theatre has established itself as a company that dedicates itself to thought-provoking, heartfelt, and painfully immediate work. Its most recent production of David Lindsay-Abaire’s award-winning play, Rabbit Hole, is no exception to that rule. Headed by director Kerri Rambow, the production serves the play astutely, honoring its necessary moments of humor, sadness, tension, and lacerating truth.

Rabbit Hole is a stunning family drama that explores one family’s will to survive after monumental loss. It centers around Becca and Howie, a New York couple, eight months after the death of their four-year old son, Danny. Throughout the play, Becca and Howie occupy themselves with birthday parties, cozy wine-filled nights, and pastry baking. However, these attempts at normalcy cannot mask the lingering and terribly raw grief that Becca and Howie feel for their son.

Lindsay-Abaire’s script is undoubtedly a gratifying challenge for any actor to take on. In his playwright’s notes, Linsday-Abaire writes that while Rabbit Hole is about a family in mourning, its inhabitants are “highly functional, unsentimental, spirited, and often funny people” who try to navigate their way through their grief to the best of their ability. Indeed, the humor in this play is essential, something that Rambow clearly understands.

Keegan’s company uses Lindsay-Abaire’s wit, grace, and rhetorical skill to its near-fullest capacity. Keegan’s actors present an honest depiction of a family in a throes of grief who try maintain that delicate balance between falling into ruts of paralyzing sadness and finding the will to carry on.

The women in particular are the production’s crowning glories. Susan Rhea is stellar as Becca, who takes on the role with grace as she grieves for Danny in her own way while attempting to maintain some control over her life. Indeed, Rhea comfortably inhabits the play’s silent moments with mesmerizing tension and well-placed weariness, making her performance all the more impressive. Linda High’s take on Becca’s mother, Nat, is equally applaudable. Her mother-daughter dynamic with Rhea makes their relationship quite believable, and her astute layering of insight and comedy is delightful and well-received. Shayna Blass’ eccentric and sarcastic performance as Izzy — Becca’s younger sister — inspirits the play, providing much-needed comedic interludes that do not distract from its gravity and weight.

Only one critique exists where the women are concerned. Considering the relationship between Izzy and Becca and the apparent age range between Blass and Rhea, their dynamic better resembles that between a mother and a daughter rather than two sisters. While this certainly does not diminish the play’s overall effect, when Becca reprimands Izzy for taking part in a bar fight, it comes across as a scolding session instead of a heated discussion.

Founder and Artistic Director Mark Rhea — married to Susan Rhea — plays Howie, the grieving father, with honesty. His proclivity towards outwardly directed bitterness contrasts well with Becca’s arguably more controlled efforts at grieving. However, the pacing during some of Rhea’s moments of silent anger and sadness are a bit slow. This caused certain scenes to take longer than were perhaps necessary. As the sixteen year-old, Jason, who was involved with Danny’s accidental death, Patrick Joy takes on the role earnestly, channeling a good amount of teenage awkwardness and self-awareness. His scene with Becca as they discuss the rabbit holes in his short story dedicated to Danny is absolutely mesmerizing, particularly following Becca’s sudden breakdown.

For a play as personal as Rabbit Hole, it makes sense to set it in a hyper-realistic New York home. 4Points Design Collective has designed for Keegan a meticulously detailed two-story home featuring granite table tops, working stairs leading to the floor above, and walls covered with abstract art. Upon entering the theatre, the audience is transported into the Corbett’s suburban home. Perhaps most impressive — and haunting — is Danny’s bedroom on the second story. Brightly colored and decorated with robot sheets, drawings on the wall, and children’s books on the shelf, the very memory of Danny literally lingers above the couples’ heads. Indeed, scattered throughout the house are more reminders of their old life: broken toys, “creepy” Elmo dolls, and baby pictures serve as constant reminders that the pain never really goes away, but is something that you “carry around – like a brick in your pocket.” Despite the meticulousness of the set’s design, the only distracting element is a seemingly unfinished set of stairs.

Rabbit Hole, which runs through July 21st, allows its audience a public viewing of a family’s private life. The beauty of this play is that it speaks to something to which anyone could relate. Keegan Theatre’s performance is an astutely staged and moving piece that speaks to the universal notions of blame and individual means of grappling with grief after the death of a loved one. When you count the success of this production, this season’s final production of A Few Good Men, the fact that Mark Rhea just purchased the rights to the Church Street theater, and exciting news surrounding its upcoming season, it appears that Keegan Theatre has much to celebrate.

Photo Gallery

Susan Marie Rhea, Mark A. Rhea	Shayna Blass, Linda High
Mark A. Rhea	Patrick Joy
Susan Marie Rhea	Mark A. Rhea, Susan Marie Rhea

Photos by C. Stanley Photography

Cast

• Becca: Susan Marie Rhea
• Howie: Mark Rhea
• Izzy: Shayna Blass
• Nat: Linda High
• Jason: Patrick Joy

Artistic Team

• Director: Kerri Rambow
• Set Design: 4Point Design Collective (comprising of Stefan Gibson, Matt Corell, Mark Johnson, and Ricardo Seijo)
• Sound Design: Tony Angelini
• Set Dressing and Properties Design: Carol Floretta H. Baker
• Assistant Stage Manager: Timothée Courouble
• Stage Manager: Dan Deiter
• Hair and Makeup Design: Craig Miller
• Costume Design: Kelly Peacock
• Assistant Director/Lighting Design: Megan Thrift
• Assistant Properties Design: Katrina Wiskup

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

Playwright Martin McDonagh succeeds in writing, and the actors in Keegan Theatre’s cast succeed in delivering, wonderfully fluent and intelligently-written lines for the four characters in A Behanding in Spokane, not one of whom is even remotely a bright bulb. Filled with extended n-word and mf-word riffs worthy of a late-night standup routine, the play gleefully uses its absurdist premise to take on the craziness of racial and gender relations. “Uproariously funny” aptly describes the result; the audience was, indeed, in an uproar of laughter from start to finish.

The setup is this: Carmichael (Mark Rhea), a homicidally-inclined low life, is continuing a 27-year quest for his hand. It was severed, he says, by six hillbillies who placed it on a railroad track as a train was coming by. The hillbillies then waved goodbye to him, with his own hand, from a distance. Ever since, Carmichael has been searching for it around the country, with the obsessiveness of a down-and-out knight doggedly seeking the Holy Grail. Getting wind of his search, Marilyn (Laura Herren) and her black boyfriend Toby (Manu Kumasi) concoct a scheme to palm off on Charmichael, for $500, the hand of an Australian Aborigine lifted from a local museum. Charmichael is distinctly not amused, putting the foolish couple at peril for their lives.

The fourth member of McDonagh’s strung-out quartet is Mervyn, the receptionist in the hotel where the action takes place (Bradley Foster Smith). Nosy and suspicious, resentful of perceived assaults on his dignity, and arguably an even odder creature than the others, Smith’s Mervyn gets one of the show’s two best monologues, having to do with monkeys and high school massacres. Playing perhaps the most thoroughly lost of these meandering souls, Smith also creates a poignant moment or two for his character.

The other outstanding monologue belongs to Rhea, as Carmichael talks at length to his equally unbalanced mother, having to explain, among other things, that the fact that he has a black man in his hotel room does not mean that his racism has lapsed. Reminiscent of Coen brothers-style characters, Rhea’s Carmichael can be perfectly straightforward and even logical-sounding in his explanations of his absurd quest and his murderous intentions.

Focused on saving their respective skins, the bumbling con artists Toby and Marilyn try various unsuccessful ways of talking their way out of their unhappy situation, readily blaming one another for their plight, in the Laurel and Hardy “here’s another nice mess you’ve gotten me into” tradition. Kumasi’s Toby tries bravado and fast talk; Herren’s Marilyn tries cuteness; nothing much works, and McDonagh makes sure that each of their attempts at extricating themselves only digs them deeper into trouble.

Director Colin Smith keeps the characters distinct, the ensemble playing smooth, the timing crisp, and the physical comedy flowing (my favorite bits were the volleys of shoes and other objects Toby and Marilyn, while handcuffed to the radiator, chuck at a candle Carmichael has placed in a gasoline can while he has left the room). Smith also designed the set, a seedy hotel room complete with torn and stained wallpaper, peeling paint on the radiator, and a smudgy window through which characters exit to a fire escape. Carol Baker and Katrina Wiskup also deserve credit for believable set dressings (especially worn-looking bedding and an obsolete phone) and excellent, well-used hand props.

Photo Gallery

Manu Kumasi, Mark A. Rhea, Laura Herren	Bradley Foster Smith
Bradley Foster Smith	Bradley Foster Smith, Mark A. Rhea
Mark A. Rhea

Photos by C. Stanley Photography

Cast

• Laura Herren: Marilyn
• Manu Kumasi: Toby
• Mark A. Rhea: Carmichael
• Bradley Foster Smith: Mervyn

Production Staff

• Director: Colin Smith
• Assistant Director: Sheri S. Herren
• Production Manager: Michael Innocenti
• Production Assistant: Stacey Kruml
• Co- Stage Manager: Dan Deiter
• Co- Stage Manager: Alexis J. Rose
• Set Design: Colin Smith
• Master Carpenter: Eric Lucas
• Scenic Artist: Bradley Foster Smith
• Set Dressing and Properties Design: Carol Floretta H. Baker
• Assistant Set Dressing: Katrina Wiskup
• Lighting Design: Megan Thrift
• Lighting Crew: Dan Deiter
• Lighting Interns: Alex Hargitt, Robert Helvey
• Sound Design: Tony Angelini
• Costume Design: Kelly Peacock
• Hair and Makeup Design: Craig Miller

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

Directors Christina Coakley and Michael Innocenti have successfully provided DC with a piece of genuinely excellent theatre. The Keegan Theatre’s production of Cabaret is well-timed, indeed, as it lines up with the 1972 film’s 40th anniversary. However, this production embraces the musical’s more sinister roots making it quite different than the, for lack of a better word, light-hearted nature of the film. Upon walking into the theatre, it became clear Coakley and Innocenti chose to base their production on the Studio 54 1998 Broadway revival. Regardless of approach, their production is refined, mesmerizing, and a refreshing take on a musical that can admittedly be repetitive in its presentational nature. The production’s innovation in storytelling went hand-in-hand with Coakley and Innocenti’s crisp staging, Rachel Leigh Dolan’s beautiful choreography, and most of the casts’ truthful and spot-on performances.

Based on John Van Druten’s play, I Am The Camera, and Christopher Isherwood’s short novel, “Goodbye to Berlin,” Cabaret follows the seedy nightlife of the Kit Kat Klub during the Nazi’s rise to power in 1931. Specifically, it focuses on Sally Bowles, an English cabaret performer, and her romantic entanglement with Clifford Bradshaw, a young American writer. Overseeing the whole affair is the Emcee, a charismatic but twisted Master of Ceremonies, who frequently narrates the action occurring outside of the nightclub. As a whole, the production delicately and professionally finds the balance between presentational and representational theatre. The production’s transitions from the realistic to the theatrical are quite seamless. Speaking of theatrical, the musical’s diegetic numbers are performed with a delightful combination of whimsy and chilling seriousness. From Sally dancing with her very own lollipop guild to the Emcee enjoying a romp with a boy or two, Innocenti and Coakley ensure that the audiences’ eyes remain glued to the stage. This production honors the musical’s episodic nature better than any production of Cabaret I’ve seen thus far. The production told the story particularly well, especially in places where the musical’s nonlinear structure made the plot a bit muddy. At what point does Sally notice Cliff in the Kit Kat Klub, for example? What does “Mein Herr” discuss? You’ll find out!

Innocenti’s scant set design beautifully showcases the Church Street space’s skeletal and bricked interior, immediately creating the deliciously seedy effect that the Kit Kat Klub emanates. The slight touches and flourishes of period-specific costumes and props play an effective role in showcasing the performers’ abilities, as there are few distracting scenic elements. Innocenti’s lighting design is a delicate balance of the musical’s real and heightened moments and Jake Null’s sound design is well-placed and unobtrusive. The orchestra, which lives above the stage, played Kander’s score with deliberation, honoring the minimalistic musical style of the 1998 revival, while making homage to some of the “Weillian” musical flourishes of the 1966 original production.

Cabaret‘s characters undergo political, social, and economic strife, forcing them to reveal to us their true, or otherwise conflicted, natures. Indeed, most of the actors did just that, all the while playing their parts with a great deal of life and authenticity without necessarily relying upon the traditions of past productions. Paul Scanlan was mesmerizing to watch as the Emcee. He simultaneously charmed and disgusted the audience by switching between charismatic entertainer and twisted pervert. Armed with a silky singing voice, Scanlan sang his ghostly and hypnotic rendition of “I Don’t Care Much,” for example, making the audience cringe in their seats and yearn for more at the same time. I was also delighted to see that Scanlan did not call upon Joel Grey or Alan Cumming for inspiration, particularly at the end of “If You Could See Her.” Maria Rizzo’s performance as Sally Bowles was inspiring as she sporadically went from effervescent performer to wry alcoholic with a tragicomic whimsy. I would argue, however, that Rizzo’s singing voice was perhaps too pretty for the role. I have always thought of Sally as a particularly untalented character, but Rizzo glided through songs like “Maybe This Time” and “Mein Herr,” regardless of how introspective those songs were, a bit too gracefully. Throughout the musical, I kept asking myself why Bowles felt the need to leave Mayfair with a voice like that. Interestingly enough, there were times where Rizzo sped up in her songs. Regardless of whether this was a deliberate acting choice or merely incidental, I felt it added an extra layer of instability to Rizzo’s performance of Sally. Bradley Foster Smith’s performance of the optimistic and wide-eyed Cliff was a breath of fresh air. Too often have I seen actors play Cliff with a straight-laced and matter-of-fact air that closer resembled Christopher Isherwood than the character himself.

Jane Petkofsky was radiant as Fräulein Schneider. From “So What?” to “What Would You Do?,” Petkofsky’s take on the tough and hardworking Schneider brought either a smile to my face or a chill in my spine. Stan Shulman’s performance as Herr Schultz may have been the most charming thing about this production. Shulman’s comedic timing was impeccable, whether he drunkenly stumbled around at his own engagement party or sheepishly gave a pineapple to his lady-love. The two actors were an absolute delight in “It Couldn’t Please Me More” and “Married;” I could not help but giggle under my breath as the two danced around the stage. Christopher Gillespie was quite effective as Ernst Ludwig, Cliff’s first introduction to Berlin. I would, however, have liked to see more of Ludwig’s comical side (see: “We can make a large whoopee, ja?”) in the first act, as it would have made his personality change in the second act all the more jarring.

Special congratulations go to the ensemble members of the production, who created the deliciously hyper-sexual and chilling ambience of the Cabaret‘s Germany with great enthusiasm and selflessness. The whole cast worked tirelessly through Dolan’s choreography. My main criticism of the ensemble, however, concerns the males; while they romped and rolled with gusto as Kit Kat Boys, their performances as intimidating Nazi soldiers were perhaps less than effective.

This production is, at its core, a fun romp in Berlin but it also treats on deeper and darker issues that pervaded Weimar Germany during the Nazis’ rise to power. It would be a grave mistake to miss out on this production, for in spite of my criticism, the truly excellent outweighs the slightly disappointing or under-explored.

Photo Gallery

Maria Rizzo and Paul Scanlan	Maria Rizzo and Paul Scanlan
Paul Scanlan as Emcee and Kit Kat Girls	Paul Scanlan as Emcee and Ensemble
Maria Rizzo as Sally Bowles	Charlie Abel as Max and Maria Rizzo as Sally Bowles
Maria Rizzo as Sally Bowles and Bradley Foster Smith as Clifford Bradshaw	Ensemble

Photos by Cameron Whitman and C. Stanley Photography

Cast

• Emcee: Paul Scanlan
• Sally Bowles: Maria Rizzo
• Clifford Bradshaw: Bradley Foster Smith
• Fräulein Schneider: Jane Petkofsky
• Herr Schultz: Stan Shulman
• Fräulein Kost/Fritzie: Sarah Lasko
• Ernst Ludwig: Christopher Gillespie
• Max/Herman: Charlie Abel
• German Officer/Hans/Rudy: Timothy Adams
• Lulu: Shayna Blass
• Helga: Sarah Chapin
• Texas: Alison Crosby
• Rosie: Paige Felix
• Bobby: Matthew Rubbelke
• Frenchie: Erin Ryan
• Victor: Ryan Patrick Welsh
• Swings: Shannon Marie Cusselo, Ben Lurye

Artistic Team

• Director: Christina A. Coakley
• Director/Set Designer: Michael Innocenti
• Set Dressing and Properties Designer: Carol Baker
• Choreographer: Rachel Leigh Dolan
• Costume Designer: Shadia Hafiz
• Costume Assistant: Brittany Harris
• Music Direction: John-Michael d’Haviland
• Hair and Make-Up Design: Craig Miller
• Stage Manager: Lauren A. Miller
• Sound Design: Jake Null
• Assistant Stage Manager: Will Pommerening
• Assistant Director: Jennifer Richter
• Properties and Set Dressing: Katrina Wiskup

Cabaret Orchestra

• Conductor: J. Michael d’Haviland
• Keyboard: Walter McCoy
• Trumpet: Paul Weiss
• Reed I: Gwyn Jones
• Reed II: Dana Gardner
• Trombone: Ryan Shofnos
• Percussion: Matt Robotham
• Bass: Jason Wilson

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

Editor’s Note: The reviewer left before the end of the performance. ShowBizRadio apologizes for this mistake and for the disrespect that the cast, crew and other audience members received.

August: Osage County is rapidly becoming my new Glengarry Glen Ross; I know every word of the script and I am compelled to see it over and over again. Keegan Theatre’s presentation of Tracy Letts’ semi-autobiographical story of his family from the black lagoon put upon me a different outlook and feeling for the characters than I heretofore contemplated. Wading through the literary minefield of spoiler alerts, the question must be asked: Why must we, collectively, be so aghast at prescription drug dependency in an individual who is quickly dying of terminal cancer? This individual will soon be dead anyway and an old person is not working or driving or doing anything to threaten the physical safety of others. However, the person policing the dying addict is more physically threatening and violent than most human beings and that is what is new and scary in Director Mark A. Rhea’s delivery of this baby. I hope this was his intent because this is what I propose.

It is Violet Weston’s poisonous disposition and her toxic delivery of love through passive and aggressive manipulation of the extended family via her use of her cancer to both garner sympathy and batter her loved ones that is the thesis of this play. Violet is the venus fly trap of mothers beguiling her loved ones with equanimity and musings of family loyalty and then devouring their humanity without even spitting the tough pieces out.

Violet Weston (Rena Cherry Brown) and her younger sister, Mattie Fae Aiken (Kerry Waters Lucas) survived a brutal upbringing to marry well and produce the next generation of the American Meritocracy. Violet married the equally harmed Beverly Weston (Stan Shulman) an award winning poet and literary professor; the two of them together cannot manage to leave behind their respective pain and indulge in happiness through success. Mattie Fae married the kind and unaffected Charlie Aikin (Kevin Adams) who loves her despite all of her efforts to be completely unlovable. Mattie Fae, too, cannot relieve herself of old pain to suffer new joy and she betrays Charlie through her abuse of their nearly middle-aged and ineffectual, misfit son, Little Charles (Michael Innocenti).

The three Weston daughters return home on the death by suicide of the chronically drunk Beverly to continue the pain into the next generation. Beverly planned his exit carefully, hiring Cheyenne Indian Johnna Monavita (Shadia Hafiz) to care for Violet in their now dilapidated and squalid big house on the prairie. In the end, it is the poor but loved Johnna who emerges whole from this war of privileged, meritocratic, financially secure and ungrateful losers and creeps. Granddaughter Jean Fordham (Lindsay Rini) continues the loserdom into the third generation as her high-strung and domineering mother Barbara (Susan Marie Rhea) and morally ambiguous father, Bill (Colin Smith), destroy their own nuclear family. Barbara’s sisters Karen (Karen Novack) and Ivy (Belen Pifel) defer to Barbara’s dominance as unpleasant truths emerge over the three acts. Karen inflicts her total creep of a fiancé (Charlie Abel) on this already den of vipers and Ivy is the only daughter to have stayed close and watched the extirpation of her family happen.

Violet Weston is the modern incarnation of Mama Rose Hovick, a part coveted by those actresses of a certain age with the chops to stew and spew for three hours. Rena Cherry Brown starts the story as a ghostlike wraith fading away before our eyes until the disappearance and death of her husband. With Beverly gone Violet gains steam and a pale beauty as she preys on her emotionally damaged family and flaunts her addiction to prescription painkillers and barbiturates. In fact her beauty increases along with her rage and abuse. Susan Marie Rhea as daughter Barbara is equal to the task as the self-righteous and morally superior oldest sister whose right jab and left hook make her a mixed martial arts smackdown contender; and that is what made this production so different from the others I’ve seen. This production’s Steve looks like the sleazy Florida player he is and Charlie Abel’s portrayal is up to that task of relating his vileness to all. Abel’s middle-aged good looks betray the repulsive core that Karen chooses to defend in order to save her own life.

Curiously, the show’s most compelling performances are by the two non-family characters. Shadia Haifiz as Johnna, the Cheyenne housekeeper, is a blank slate as she serves Violet and the family. She is a neutral presence, doing her job with alacrity, but no emotion, as she cleans and repairs the ratty homestead and cooks delicious food for everyone. When Johnna’s breakout moment happens Hafiz is superb and Johnna’s worth as an individual soars against the more fortunate ingrates she serves. Eric Lucas as Sheriff Dion Gilbeau radiates a Marlboro Man aura as Barbara’s high school prom date from decades ago. His modest magnetism against Barbara’s self-disgust works differently than I have previously seen done by other companies. It seems that the Sheriff also is trying to escape from a sordid background and his pain is kindred to the Weston clan’s although he has not let himself be compromised by that pain. Rhea has reconfigured the essence of these characters and a new play has emerged while still nailing the most comic and acerbic lines on their heads.

I did not like the set. The home (Stefan Gibson, Carol H. Baker, Katrina Wiskup) was recreated as some squalid dump left over from the Hatfield/McCoy feud. Violet and Beverly Weston are two old people of some financial worth who let a fine home fall into a disrepair analogous to themselves. Even after Johnna fixes the place up, it does not look like the home of people as accomplished as the Westons once were. This home looks like it should be the set of “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo” and that is not a compliment.

Keegan Theatre has presented another great show with its always top quality production values and a new outlook on near vintage stories. August: Osage County is not an easy show to get up but Keegan manages against the fetters of its physical space to present a large story in a small, but well-used, space.

This show is the theatrical version of War and Peace, an exercise in forebearance that Keegan makes more than worthwhile.

Photo Gallery

Stan Shulman	Rena Cherry Brown, with Lyndsay Rini, Shadia Hafiz, Colin Smith, Susan Marie Rhea, Eric Lucas
Rena Cherry Brown	Charlie Abel, Lyndsay Rini, Karen Novack
Susan Marie Rhea, Karen Novack, Rena Cherry Brown, Belen Pifel	Susan Marie Rhea, Karen Nocack

Photos by C. Stanley Photography

Cast

• Beverly Weston: Stan Shulman
• Violet Weston: Rena Cherry Brown
• Barbara Fordham: Susan Marie Rhea
• Bill Fordham: Colin Smith
• Jean Fordham: Lindsay Rini
• Ivy Weston: Belen Pifel
• Karen Weston: Karen Novack
• Mattie Fae Aikin: Kerry Waters Lucas
• Charlie Aikin: Kevin Adams
• Little Charles Aikin: Michael Innocenti
• Johnna Monavata: Shadia Hafiz
• Steve Heidebrecht: Charlie Abel
• Sheriff Dion Gilbeau: Eric Lucas

Production Staff

• Director: Mark A. Rhea
• Assistant Director: Christina A. Coakley
• Stage Manager: Alexis J. Rose
• Set Design: Stefan Gibson
• Costume Design: Erin Nugent
• Properties Designer: Katrina Wiskup
• Sound Design: Jake Null
• Lighting Design: Megan Thrift
• Fight Choreography: Kyle Encinas
• Hair and Makeup Design: Craig Miller

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

Benjamin Franklin Wedekind was a free thinking libertine, incarcerated for his politics and censored for his social candor because he was in Germany and not the United States like his namesake. His 1891 play Fruhlings Erwachen caused a scandal across empires because of its frank discussion of sexual themes in an age of sexual repression and clandestine physical consummation combined with the social and religious doctrines of equating child abuse with love. Keegan Theatre is presenting the contemporary musical adaptation, Spring Awakening, with a cast of marvelously talented young men and adequate young women in an audacious illustration of sexual maturity in the face of societal denial and suppression.

Fruhlings Erwachen was adapted for the musical stage in 2006 as a frank and contemporaneous, but musically updated story about a conundrum of life that has many answers, none of them entirely satisfactory. In the face of the sexual themes, the show also deals with young men who are too smart for their own good and young women whose parental love may be measured in physical abuse and sexual molestation.

Yearning teenagers are a subject stretching back to the farthest reaches of antiquity and how the succeeding civilizations have treated this aspect of human maturation has not advanced over the epochs. The timeliness of the topics and the issues confronting today’s teenagers are not repressed; they are in fact too honestly represented on various MTV reality shows. But that is more necessarily a good thing than a return to the days of family humiliation with the honor of any family being bound up in a daughter’s chastity and virtue.

Wedekind’s young men awaken in the morning in a mortifying state with the consequent self loathing and shame created when emerging adults are denied proper instruction about life. The girls are carrying on with themselves, walking around caressing their own respective bodies and yearning for touch, any touch, and not understanding what is not right with them…when, in fact, everything is right with them. These young women are also denied the knowledge they depend upon the adults for. The society’s refusal and the adults’ failure to accept the nature of life and offer the youth proper instruction on these basics is the catalyst for heartbreak, catastrophe and the unnecessary ruination of young lives.

Wendla (Ali Hoxie) is an emerging woman troubled by the knowledge that there are things she doesn’t know and that no one will tell her. She is consumed with the physical desire for something unknown and the denial of answers makes the longing more profound. She has a crush on Melchior (Vincent Kempski), an insightful and advanced thinker whose precocity will be his downfall. Melchior knows the answer to the troubles his friends are facing and lets his friend, Moritz (Paul Scanlon), in on the secret in a sort of Gay Nineties schoolyard exchange of the secret information. It is Melchior’s not entirely innocent faculty that will send his best friends down the slippery slope to disaster and death. His secret erotic writings will be no less instantly inculpating than modern-day sexting on a Twitter feed. Everything old is new again.

It would be so easy to lampoon this story as just another parable about what to do with horny teenagers, but the thesis of this show presents topics, social and personal, that we all grapple with today. The sundry and anybody expounding upon the wish to return to some rose-colored good old days can find their delusions shattered by Wedekind’s frank illustration of the consequences of paternalism coupled with a brutal educational orthodoxy and reinforced by Duncan Sheik’s alternative musical score and Keegan’s fine interpretation.

Keegan Theatre embraces the shocking content of the story with an imaginative, yet Spartan, set (Set Designer Mark A. Rhea) that makes certain the spotlight is never off of the actors. Melchior is a sincere intellectual but Kempski transmits a decided disingenuousness and even a streak of contempt as he defies parents and teachers to find his satisfaction. This reviewer found him not so sympathetic at the end. The breakout talent in this show is Scanlon, reminiscent of John Lydon (aka Johnny Rotten, founder of The Sex Pistols) in both appearance and performance. He is the class misfit, bullied by his teachers at school and by his father at home. Scanlon’s stage presence and vocals are phenomenal and he reflects Moritz’s agony over his seeming inability to do anything right coupled with his teachers’ vicious antagonism and reprisal towards him with the intensity that is the salvation of this story. Alex Alferov as Ernst and Gannon O’Brien as Hanschen pursue the alternative without guilt or fear of exposure because Hanschen has Melchior’s intellect without Melchior’s urgency to flaunt it. O’Brien plays with a knowing cunning while Alferov is completely unembarrassed by his desires.

The female cast whose respective virtue is the ultimate prize in the small town is adequate, but there are no star turns commensurate with the young men in this show. Hoxie is a sympathetic Wendla, but her terminal naivite leaves no room for a supposition of what just might be going on. The boys are being caught and admonished for having their hands in their pockets. Surely the girls must have been admonished in similar fashion for their curiosity before they advanced to enough physical maturity to become pregnant. They are all pretty and can sing and dance, but no special performances emerge and no one leaves any lasting memory. The imposition of conformity and uniformity on young females in the present era makes casting a roll of the dice because no one is really different from one another…or maybe that was the Directors Rheas’ intent. The concomitant adults, in all of their incarnations, were played by Charlotte Akin and Jon Townson, as interchangeable pillars of a deranged, censorious and injurious social system that denied the humanity of its children.

The other star in this show is the music direction (Jake Null) and the orchestra. The fine vocals were matched by skilled playing and the acoustics of the Church Street Theatre enveloped the audience in the music.

Keegan Theatre’s Spring Awakening is a worthy endeavor bolstered by an incredible male cast, top rate music and an artfully crafted century old story. The art of the language, at once explicit and poetic, combined with the kicking alternative music made for an appealing show. Go see it if you can.

Photo Gallery

Nick Lehan, Alex Alferov, Stephen Murray, Vincent Kempski, Gannon O’Brien, Jon Townson, Paul Scanlan	Nick Lehan, Sean Burns, Vincent Kempski, Gannon O’Brien
Top: MaryKate Brouillet, Sean Burns, Emily Dey. Bottom: Ali Hoxie, Vincent Kempski	Gannon O’Brien, Emily Dey, Stephen Murray, Sarah Chapin, Alex Alferov, MaryKate Brouillet, Sean Burns; Top: Charlotte Akin, Jon Townson
Nick Lehan, Alex Alferov, Stephen Murray, Vincent Kempski, Sean Burns, Paul Scanlan, Gannon O’Brien

Photos by C. Stanley Photography

Cast

• Adult Women: Charlotte Akin
• Ernst: Alex Alferov
• Thea: Cody Boehm
• Ensemble: Mary Kate Brouillet
• Ensemble: Sean Burns
• Martha: Sarah Chapin
• Ensemble: Emily Day
• Wendla: Ali Hoxie
• Melchior: Vincent Kempski
• Georg: Nick Lehan
• Otto: Stephen Murray
• Hanschen: Gannon O’Brien
• Ilsa: Nora Palka
• Anna: Lyndsay Rini
• Moritz: Paul Scanlon
• Adult Men: Jon Townson
• Swings: Mary Kate Brouillet, Sean Burns, Emily Day, David Rea, Colin Smith

Production Staff

• Directors: Mark A. Rhea, Susan Marie Rhea
• Music Director: Jake Null
• Choreography: Kurt Boehm
• Stage Managers: Alexis J. Rose, Lauren A. Miller
• Set Design: Mark A. Rhea
• Lighting Design: Allan Sean Weeks
• Sound Design: Jake Null
• Costume Design: Kelly Peacock, Shadia Hafiz
• Properties: Carol Baker
• Hair/Makeup Design: Craig Miller
• Vocal Arrangements: AnnMarie Milazzo

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

Keegan Theatre’s current production of Neil Simon’s Laughter on the 23rd Floor demonstrates both humor and finesse. The play is based on Simon’s real-life experiences writing for Sid Caesar on Your Show of Shows in the 1950s. Lucas Brickman (Neil Simon’s caricature of himself, played here by John Loughney) opens the show with a direct address to the audience, and he reveals that he is determined to prove himself as the newest writer on the staff of The Max Prince Show. After this exposition, Simon introduces Lucas’s wildly eccentric coworkers. It turns out that The Max Prince Show has started garnering a little too much attention, and the network execs are beginning to look at it a little too closely for the writers’ comfort. The group begins to worry about artistic principles, and further volatility comes with the looming threats of budget cuts, censorship, and McCarthy’s blacklist.

The cast is a strong one. The actors function collectively as a well-oiled comedic machine without trying too hard. Though the entire cast is very good, Ray Ficca shines as the unintentionally funny and layered Max Prince (the acclaimed star of the comedy show who happens to be a paranoid drug addict). Ficca’s portrayal is the kind of seamless work that is exciting to see–with a spot-on Brando impression, to boot. The rest of the cast works well together, finding moments of humor and just as easily finding moments of quiet.

Colin Smith’s clear direction is evident in every aspect, yet it is not overstated. All parts of the whole contribute to Smith’s conceptual balance between the uproariously funny and the wistfully bittersweet. The script itself is rich with affection for “the business,” and as the audience gets to know this ensemble of writers, they begin to see the intimacy that develops from mutual creativity. This, at its core, is what drives everything else. It is the reason Max Prince can so comfortably walk around the office in his underwear for the entirety of Act 1 without embarrassment. Smith does a fine job of getting the entire artistic team to orbit this nucleus.

The set (Samina Vieth) is the writers’ room on the 23rd floor, complete with a bagel-and-schmear table. The interior is complemented by a more representational window sky-scape of New York City. It serves the action well, and it is real enough to be a bit gritty and believable; however, the window creates a slightly more ideal world. Erin Nugent’s costumes are well-contemplated, authentic, and, in some cases, funny. Lighting designer Allan Sean Weeks successfully creates the right amount of nostalgia and romanticism that this creative realm holds. Jake Null (sound) perpetuates this with transitional snippets of 1950’s television fare. The effect is that of a surreal, fast-paced environment back in the “good old days.”

Keegan Theatre’s take on this Neil Simon piece is a gratifying theatre experience. It will undoubtedly make you laugh–and also think a little, too. The production has that certain “I don’t know what” about it that one always hopes to have at the theatre. It is particularly interesting that Keegan has put it on in the nation’s capital, where we have our own brand of network execs to deal with–but that’s a whole different kind of theatre.

Cast

• Alison Leigh Corke: Helen
• Matt Dewberry: Milt Fields
• Ray Ficca: Max Prince
• Kevin Hasser: Kenny Franks
• Michael Innocenti: Ira Stone
• Brianna Letourneau: Carol Wyman
• John Loughney: Lucas Brickman
• Bradley Foster Smith: Val Skolsky
• Dan Van Why: Brian Doyle

Artistic Team

• Carol Baker: Set Dresser/Properties
• Lauren A. Miller: Stage Manager
• Erin Nugent: Costume Designer
• Jake Null: Sound Designer
• Colin Smith: Director
• Samina Vieth: Set Designer
• Katrina Wiskup: Properties
• Allan Sean Weeks: Light Design

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

• The Crucible, October – November 2011
• An Irish Carol, December 2011
• Spring Awakening, Spring 2012
• Twelve Angry Men, Summer 2012

Additional productions will likely be added at a later time. Schedule is subject to change due to performance rights conflicts or other issues. Specific dates of performances and auditions are yet to be announced.