Review gets four out of five stars
There are those out there who are going to despise Birmingham Festival Theatre's production of "Miss Witherspoon."
They'll disagree with playwright Christopher Durang's views on reincarnation, his depiction of Jesus as a black woman in a fancy hat or his views on different religions and their views of heaven.
But get past all that and you'll find a fast-moving, fun and somewhat provocative comedy that boasts a tour-de-force performance from Ginny S. Loggins in the title role.
Loggins is Miss Witherspoon, a woman who hates life enough to kill herself and hates the afterlife even more, especially when she's forced to reincarnate again and again and again.
So we see her as a baby a couple of times (with Holly Croney Dikeman and James "Lee" Griner a treat as various parents), as a troubled teenager (with Marva V. Douglas as an understanding teacher) and as a dog as she pops from one new life to another. In the end, she has a discussion with Jesus (a funny Douglas) and Gandalf (Griner, as an old wise man, not the guy from "Lord of the Rings"), as well as her ever-present spirit guide (delightfully played by Michele Santiago), about her true purpose.
Though the topics get serious, director Janelle Cochrane wisely avoids letting things get too dramatic. Durang can get a little heavy-handed, but this production doesn't get bogged down in that. Only the sparse set - surely the afterlife is a little more classy looking - and some long waits between scenes disappoint.
The real reason to see "Miss Witherspoon" is for Loggins, who takes on the title role with gusto. Whether delivering Durang's monologues or playing a beloved pet, she's a delight.
See the full review here on al.com's website.BFT scored big time with this touching and well acted stage version of sportswriter Mitch Albom's book. Birmingham veteran Sam Chalker turned in one of his finer performances as Morrie, with Douglas O'Neil Jr. ably supporting him as Mitch.
Review gets three out of five stars
"The Little Dog Laughed" may be too much for its own good.It's adult, but maybe a bit too adult. Yes, it's about an in-the-closet actor and his relationship with a young male prostitute in New York, but do we really need to see them naked to get that point across?
It may be funny, but maybe a bit too funny. Douglas Carter Beane's script has a number of laughs, but quite a few of them are nervous laughs that emanate from his take-no-prisoners let's-offend-everyone script.
It's definitely smart, but maybe a bit too smart for its own good. The
play was a hit in New York, perhaps because of its on-target skewering of
the entertainment business and the folks that inhabit it. But in an audience
filled with those outside the entertainment industry, a good deal of it -
particularly the sardonic monologues by hard-as-nails agent Diane - falls
flat.
Having said that, Birmingham Festival Theatre at least dares to be different with its production of "The Little Dog Laughed," which follows the exploits of four people: the actor, Mitchell; his agent, Diane; his boyfriend, Alex; and Alex's gal pal, Ellen.
Alex pays the rent by renting himself out to men, although he's sleeping with Ellen and, until he comes across Mitchell, doesn't think he's gay. Beane's script explores what happens when Mitchell falls for Alex, Alex gets into a predicament with Ellen and Diane tries to land her client a prestigious project without the world finding out about his double life.
Stephen French directs a cast that seems game for anything. As Mitch and Alex, David Roberts and Alexander J. Perkins have a nice rapport. If Roberts doesn't seem quite the matinee idol, and Perkins not quite a call boy, they at least connect on an emotional level. And, it must be said again, they have the gumption to literally lay themselves bare in a very intimate theater.
Both women, too, mostly hit the mark. Amanda Perry almost single-handedly moves Beane's action along as Diane, and though she can get tongue-tied with the dialogue at times, she is solid. As Ellen, perhaps the most ordinary of the quartet of characters, Tyner Rushing is a delight. In the end, we're rooting for her to survive her relationships with the other three.
That BFT has brought "The Little Dog Laughed" to Birmingham is to be applauded. At a performance last weekend, some dialogue was ragged and a spotlight seemed to have a mind of its own, but all of that can be corrected.
In the end, though, Beane's script may be a bit too Hollywood- and New York-centric for its own good.
See the full review here on al.com's website.If you've ever read Mitch Albom's "Tuesdays with Morrie," the sportswriter's account of spending time with a former professor as he battled the final stages of Lou Gehrig's disease, your eyes are probably welling up already.
It's a tearjerker to be sure, but in its stage incarnation, it's also the opportunity for two actors to connect with an audience and give performances that resonate long after the show is over.
That's exactly what we get with Birmingham Festival Theatre's season opener, which brings us stage veteran Sam Chalker as Morrie and relative newcomer Douglas O'Neil Jr. as Mitch, both at the top of their games.
"Tuesdays with Morrie" is an intimate, two-person drama that covers a great deal in its 90 minutes. Mitch is a Brandeis student when the show starts, a fledgling musician whose favorite professor, Morrie, urges him to follow his dreams and makes him promise to keep in touch.
Sixteen years later, Mitch, a brash, successful sportswriter who has no time for anyone other than himself, sees his long-lost professor on "Nightline," where Ted Koppel is chronicling the elderly man's battle with the fatal Lou Gehrig's disease. He pays Morrie what he thinks will be a solitary visit, but ends up spending most every Tuesday with him, becoming a much better person in the process.
Sound sappy? Yep, it is. But Chalker, O'Neil and director John Batson manage to avoid letting this become a sob-fest from beginning to end, although tears are sure to come when appropriate.
This show - with its minimal set and lack of flashy costumes - is all about the acting, and that we have in spades. Chalker has done everything from "Hamlet" to "Macbeth" to "The Lion in Winter" on area stages, but it's hard to believe he'll be better suited to any role than that of Morrie. Morrie can be funny, wise and curmudgeonly, and Chalker handles them all with ease. He doesn't make us feel sorry for Morrie - he makes us wish we could have spent time with him.
O'Neil holds his own as Mitch. For "Tuesdays with Morrie" to work, we've got to see the young man's transformation from idealist to realist, from career-minded writer to family-minded man, and it's not the easiest thing in the world to pull off. O'Neil does.
"Tuesdays with Morrie" is one of those shows you may not think you want to see, but you'll be glad you did. Just be sure to bring some tissues.
See the full review here on al.com's website.May 09, 2008 11:02 AM "The White Rose" Review gets three out of five stars Lillian Garrett-Groag's "The White Rose" tells the amazing, true story of five German college students who risked their lives to publicly oppose the Nazi regime. Lillian Garrett-Groag's "The White Rose" tells the amazing, true story of five German college students who risked their lives to publicly oppose the Nazi regime. Under the direction of Sandra Taylor, Birmingham Festival Theatre's production of the drama tells a wonderful story, but there are a few problems that keep it from being a stellar show. The play takes place in 1943, when the Nazi party was in full force in war-ridden Germany. Fed up with the barbaric Nazi practices, five students at the University of Munich distributed anonymous leaflets throughout Germany and Austria under the title "The White Rose" that openly condemned the Nazi party. Although these students' work had an immediate impact throughout their country, they were caught and executed less than a year later. The two-hour play is divided into two acts, which split their time evenly between the concurrent storylines of the five students and the two prosecuting Nazi officers. The young five-actor ensemble of the Munich students (which includes Franklin Slaton, Rebecca Yeager, Justin Lenard, Jamie Schor and Eric Young) is fresh and cohesive. As Sophie Scholl, the only female of the crew, Yeager shines the brightest throughout the production and her character pulls the hardest at the audience's heart strings. Young and Lenard also stand out during the second act, when each student is individually interrogated. On the other side of the story, however, the pair of Nazi officers (played by Steve Halsey and Scott Nesmith) is not as easy to watch. Although Nesmith is convincing as a heartless supporter of capital punishment, Halsey has trouble with the more challenging role of Robert Mohr, the higher-ranking officer who becomes increasingly plagued by his conscience as his interactions with Sophie progress. When translated to the stage, Halsey's moral struggle seems a bit forced. Almost the entire ensemble struggles to pull off convincing German accents. Each actor's accent clashes with those of his neighbors, and most of the accents are inconsistent -- some even resemble other European languages more than the German language. Nesmith and Young are the most convincing in this endeavor. Despite its flaws, "The White Rose" tells a story that deserves to be told. Halsey's character puts it best during the second act: "People like their heroes to be nice and simple." In this case, five every day German college students showed that they were heroes in every sense of the word. See the full review here on al.com's website.
Sandra Taylor directs The White Rose, which opens this weekend at Birmingham Festival Theatre. Each Spring, 10,000 white roses are distributed on the University of Texas campus in remembrance of the approximately 10,000 people killed each day at Auschwitz. It's part of The White Rose Society event dedicated to Holocaust remembrance and genocide awareness.
Listen: Theater: The White Rose
ALEC HARVEY
News staff writer Once upon a time, there was an allergist's wife, a depressed, middle-aged woman whose couch-potato life paled in comparison to that of her dynamic husband, a world-renowned and beloved doctor who has retired but was still in great demand as a lecturer and talk-show guest. Marjorie sits at home, her only companion her mother, an acid-tongued woman who berates Marjorie to no end. Enter Lee Green, a long-lost childhood friend of Marjorie's who appears out of nowhere, dropping names (Andy Warhol, Lenny Bruce) like they were water balloons and spicing Marjorie's life up considerably. Such is "The Tale of the Allergist's Wife," Charles Busch's entertaining, if uneven, comedy that leans much more toward the entertaining side at Birmingham Festival Theatre, thanks to some terrific performances brought together by director Ellise Mayor. Front and center is Debbie Smith as Marjorie. She takes what could be a caricature and turns her into a woman we're rooting for from the beginning. Yes, she's whiny, but she's also darned funny, thanks to Busch's snappy one-liners and Smith's impeccable comic timing. She's matched note for note by Jan D. Hunter as Lee, the freewheeling friend who helps Marjorie break out of her shell, only to have her friend turn the tables on her. Adriana Keathley draws many laughs as Marjorie's mother, and Michael Abrams is more than solid as husband Ira. Mackie Atkinson, as a doorman and narrator of "The Tale of the Allergist's Wife," has his moments, too, but it's his character that Busch uses to take his play in an unexpected, and largely unwelcome, direction. Turns out Lee is not all that she seems, and what she is comes completely out of left field, leading to a pat ending that just doesn't fit the tone of the rest of the play. Still, this is a tale worth telling, and BFT has some mighty fine storytellers to do it. See the full review here on al.com's website.
Listen: Theater: Santaland Diaries
Saturday, December 01, 2007
MARY COLURSO
News staff writer
David Sedaris' writing is as pointed as an icicle.
The celebrated commentator for National Public Radio doesn't aim to warm the heart with his essays and monologues. Sedaris seeks to pierce the brain with witty, sarcastic humor.
His two holiday pieces, "The Santaland Diaries" and "Season's Greetings," stand in sharp contrast to the avalanche of seasonal sweetness that comes crashing down in December.
They're dark. They're smart. They're snarky. At times, they're laugh-out-loud funny.
Hidebound traditionalists and those with rigid Christmas spirit might want to steer clear of Birmingham Festival Theatre's production of Sedaris' works, which runs through Dec. 15.
The rest of us can attend without a trace of holiday guilt, reveling in the wickedly amusing situations laid out by Sedaris. They are skillfully interpreted by a local cast of two.
Director John Batson bravely and wisely decided not to weaken "Santaland Diaries" (performed by Shawn Castle) or truncate "Season's Greetings" (performed by Beth Kitchin).
Instead, Batson has chosen actors who appreciate the playwright's sensibility, understand his sense of timing and know how to manipulate his language.
Castle - chunky and marvelously cynical - relates Sedaris' experiences working as an elf in a department-store Santaland. He offers the unrepentant confessions of a subversive sprite, one who undermines the relentlessly cheerful atmosphere at Macy's and makes scary comments to the kids.
Kitchin - angular and mock outraged - recites a prim Christmas letter to family and friends, relating the newfound woes of her previously "perfect" family. It seems their smooth and prosperous surface has been ruffled by an unwelcome visitor: the daughter her husband fathered 22 years ago in Vietnam.
Each monologue lasts about an hour, which seems exactly right, and provides many opportunities for the solo performer to sparkle. In Sedaris' world, that translates to jabs of evil glee ("Santaland") or heights of farcical disdain ("Season's Greetings").
On opening night, Castle made a few small goofs in his lines and failed to offer a convincing imitation of Billie Holiday singing "Away in a Manger." (Don't ask; it's in the script.) Elsewhere, though, he was precisely on target.
Kitchin was extremely effective, as well, using a stilted, acidic accent that suited her character and underlined the monologue's black comedy.
What could be better? Seeing the masterful Sedaris perform his own works on stage, of course. But in his absence, Birmingham Festival Theatre offers a near pitch-perfect substitute.
See the full review here on al.com's website.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
ALEC HARVEY
News staff writer
Doug Wright's "Quills" is not an easy play to like.
This fictional account of the last days of the Marquis de Sade - the French aristocrat who spent his final years in an insane asylum in the early 19th century - pulls no punches when it comes to the Marquis and his writing, which many considered pornographic. The language is vulgar, the situations depicted are at times depraved, and Stephen French, who plays the Marquis, spends the better part of the long, long play naked as a jaybird.
That being said, Birmingham Festival Theatre's production of the 1995 play (turned into an award-winning movie starring Geoffrey Rush) is often fascinating, if a bit uneven and unnerving. And the play - perhaps even more so than the movie - hammers home the underlying themes of "Quills," both about freedom of expression and whether excessive punishment sometimes exceeds the boundaries of humanity.
Director Dane Peterson, so good as the star of Wright's "I Am My Own Wife," obviously has an affinity for the playwright's work, and his production jumps full force into all that "Quills" requires, both good and bad.
At the center is French's fine performance, a whirlwind of a part that takes him from one extreme to another. One moment, he's hysterically funny. The next, he's talking about things so sadistic you don't want to listen. The next moment, he's, well, naked.
French sheds his clothes at the end of the first act, when the Marquis' writing leads to a tragedy at the asylum. The beginning of a torturous punishment - meted by Dr. Royer-Collard, who runs the asylum, and the Abbe de Coulmier, the young priest who assists him - is stripping the Marquis of everything he can write with or write on, although he finds a hideous solution to this dilemma.
French's Marquis is a marvel, but Elmo Ranelli and James Lee Griner, as the Abbe and the doctor, don't fare quite as well.
Some fine support is given by David Roberts and Karla Stamps, who are hysterical as Monsieur Prouix and Renee Pelagie, and Jessica Tyner Rushing as Madeleine and Sara Carroll as Madame Royer-Collard are adequate.
Peterson uses strobe lighting between scenes, an effect that wears thin early on
Still, if you can stomach the subject matter, this "Quills" is worth a look.
See the full review here on al.com's website.
Listen: Theater: Quills
Saturday, September 15, 2007
ALEC HARVEY
News staff writer
Frankly, my dear, "Moonlight and Magnolias" is hit and miss.
When it's operating on all cylinders, it'll make you laugh out loud. But at times it feels as long and drawn out as the epic book and film that is at its core.
Ron Hutchinson's play imagines what happened during a time that Hollywood lore says is true, when producer David O. Selznick shut down production on "Gone With the Wind" and holed up in his office for five days with a new director and writer to create what would become one of history's iconic movies.
Birmingham Festival Theatre's production of "Moonlight and Magnolias," directed by Mark Castle, is bolstered by four actors who keep the sometimes plodding action moving along as best they can.
Doug O'Neil is pitch-perfect as screenwriter Ben Hecht, brought in to adapt a beloved book he has never read. Jonathan Goldstein is enjoyable as Victor Fleming, whom Selznick rescues from "Wizard of Oz" duty to take over the reins of his Civil War epic. And Ginny S. Loggins, given very little to do, makes the most of it as Selznick's thankless secretary.
As Selznick, Edwin Booth is fun, but he might have benefited from one more night of rehearsal. The role is a difficult one, filled with funny, blustery dialogue, and there were a number of stumbles on opening night. He's at his funniest playing the role of Scarlett, as Selznick and Fleming act out "Gone With the Wind" for a bewildered Hecht.
A problem with "Moonlight and Magnolia" is that it doesn't seem to know what it wants to be. Most often, it's a comedy, as the three men try their darndest to bring "GWTW" to the big screen. But it veers into heavy drama at times, with Selznick and Hecht - two Jews - at odds over their treatment in Hollywood during Hitler's reign of terror.
The jump between comedy and drama is uneasy, and Hutchinson might have been wise to stick with one or the other and maybe in the process trim his own little two-hour-plus epic.
Still, fans of "Gone With the Wind" will revel in this behind-the-scenes look at the making of a classic and just how close it came to disaster.
See the full review here on al.com's website.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
ALEC HARVEY
News staff writer
"Fuddy Meers" isn't going to sound very funny.
It's about an amnesiac. Each day when she wakes up, her brain is a blank slate. On this morning she's re-introduced to her drug-addled son and is kidnapped and taken to the home of a stroke victim who has trouble forming sentences.
Barrel of laughs, huh?
Oddly enough, it is. David Lindsay-Abaire has concocted a rollicking ride, and Birmingham Festival Theatre's production, which runs through Aug. 4, is a hoot.
The play is a little less than two hours of pure lunacy, and director Janelle Cochrane and her cast are certainly up to the task.
"Fuddy Meers" is another day in the life of Claire, a woman with amnesia who wakes up each morning with her husband, Richard, and her son, Kenny, trying to fill in the many gaps in her memory. On this particular day, she's kidnapped by a Limping Man and his strange friend, Millet, who take her to Gertie's house, where the secret of Claire's amnesia and who these crazy characters are unfolds.
Some of the actors, like Howard Green as Richard and Amy Donahoo Light as Claire, play it straight; others, like J. Heath Mixon as Millet (and his trash-talking hand-puppet) and Aaron White as Limping Man, are as loony as they come; the others - Evan Miller as Kenny, Sarah Schiesz as Heidi and Debbie Smith as Gertie - fall somewhere in between the two extremes. The overall effect is a play that is always a bit off-kilter, which is exactly where it needs to be.
There isn't a weak link in the cast, but shining brightest on opening night were Mixon and Smith. Mixon manages to take the silliest of characters, a man who speaks most honestly through the puppet on his hand, and make him one of the sanest characters on stage. Smith, as the speech-challenged Gertie, is more than up to the task of reciting the gibberish that Lindsay-Abaire has written for her character.
"Fuddy Meers" is violent and sad and filled with foul language and adult subject matter. But it's also darned funny, a nice summer treat from the folks at BFT.
See the full review here on al.com's website.
Saturday, June 09, 2007
ALEC HARVEY
News staff writer
Dane Peterson has made such a name for himself as a director in Birmingham in recent years, it's easy to forget what a fine actor he can be.
But "I Am My Own Wife" - the Pulitzer Prize-winning one-man show that opened Thursday at Birmingham Festival Theatre - provides ample opportunity for him to remind us.
One-man shows are tricky, and in the case of "I Am My Own Wife," it's about as tricky as it gets.
Doug Wright's play, which also won the Tony Award for 2004, is about Charlotte von Mahlsdorf, a transvestite who survived the Nazi and Communist regimes in Berlin. That in itself would be a challenge for an actor, but "I Am My Own Wife" offers much more.
Peterson plays 40 characters, including Mahlsdorf as a confused young boy, the overbearing father that he murders, and the playwright, who is a central character in his own show as he goes through the process of writing a play about von Mahlsdorf.
It's a wonderful piece of writing, weaving a tale that spans decades and countries. The show is harrowing, humorous and touching, and director Barry Austin and Peterson ably capture the many mood changes along the way.
They're helped tremendously by Amanda Thomas' set, the lush parlor of von Mahlsdorf's "museum," and her lighting design, which is used to great effect throughout the show.
But none of this would work without Peterson, who seamlessly jumps from character to character, always returning to the quiet, surprising and somewhat mysterious Charlotte von Mahlsdorf.
"I Am My Own Wife" certainly lives up to its hype.
Listen: Theater: I Am My Own Wife