A Surprising 'Cabaret' from Brooklyn

I will admit that when I was invited by a friend to join her to see a production of Joe Masteroff, John Kander and Fred Ebb's Cabaret in the tiny upstairs space at The Players Theatre on MacDougal Street, I was terrified at the prospect. Terrified to see what would be--no doubt--a glorified concert with a small cast and an upright piano. Terrified to see what would be--no doubt--another rehash of the Sam Mendes production which I loved upon first viewing, but have grown tired of. Terrified to see what would be--no doubt--an oversexed bastardization of a show I love dearly.

Boy was I wrong.

There were a few elements of the Brooklyn Theatre Arts Project's production of Cabaret, directed by Carlo Rivieccio, that didn't sit so well with me. This production had more girl-on-girl action than I've ever seen in any production which, while titillating, was dramatically questionable at points. Some of the performances, particularly the sweet-voiced Alex Amarosa who gave us his best Jackie Mason impersonation as Herr Schultz, left me cold if not cringing. And the Nazi death dance at the end was simply unnecessary; I'm fairly certain everyone in the audience was aware of what happened after the Nazis rose to power.

But overall, this production had a lot to boast about. Josh Iacovelli's design for the show--both sets and lights--is stark, spare and very flexible, allowing the small space to serve as a boarding house, a fruit shop and the Berlin train station, seemingly without ever leaving the Kit Kat Klub. The lights often add eerie red glows and even illuminate the audience at points, reminding us of our roles in the action. Taking this a step further, director Rivieccio often has the Kit Kat girls and boys seated in the house as audience members during scenes outside of the Kit Kat Klub, holding a distorted mirror up to the audience. One thinks of the myriad people who sat back and watched while the Nazi Party grew more powerful.

Janine Molinari's choreography is often inspired, flowing more from the material itself than the oft-seen urge to imitate Bob Fosse's choreography from the film. There are a few clever homages, but overall it is refreshingly creative. Molinari's routines for the opening numbers of both acts were high points of the show. I was sorry to see that "The Telephone Song," listed in the program, was omitted from the production. It would have been fun to see what Molinari could do with that far-too-often cut dance.

The program promised a few numbers that were, unfortunately, not delivered. One of these is my personal favorite song in the show, "Why Should I Wake Up?" which was replaced by the seldom heard and very charming "Don't Go," which was a lovely showcase for Stephen Elkins as Cliff Bradshaw, who had not had much of a chance to show off his lovely tenor voice. Mr. Elkins did a terrific job providing the eyes of the audience in the character of Cliff, allowing us to first be seduced and along the way fall in love with Sally Bowles as he did.

Which brings us to the central character of the piece: Sally. Played by Vivienne Cleary, this was a Sally unlike any Sally I can ever remember seeing. And somehow, this was the truest Sally I can remember seeing. Perhaps it's because of the stamp left by Liza Minelli from Fosse's film version (in which a number of elements about her character were changed from the stage version) that has caused so many actresses to play her a little too glamorous, a little too talented, a little too worldly wise. Cleary portrayed Sally Bowles as all of those things--within the confines of her own mind. Sally Bowles is whatever Sally Bowles decides to be, but Cleary made sure we were aware that it was all a fantasy. Mix that with her strong dancing and stronger voice and you've got a performance that deserves to go down in the records as one of the best performances of the role--at least that I've had the pleasure of seeing.

Also worth noting: Christopher Semidey danced the you-know-what out of his role as the Emcee and sang a beautifully sleazy rendition of "I Don't Care Much." Jackie Wolter brought tears to my eyes as Fraulein Schneider during "What Would You Do?" Johanna Telander played Fraulein Kost with just the right mixture of sex and guile. And I mentioned my fear of seeing Cabaret accompanied by one upright piano, right? Well, their tiny band, consisting of baby grand, percussion, bass guitar, violin and trumpet filled the room with sound beautifully.

Bravo to the Brooklyn Theatre Arts Project for their stunning production of Cabaret. I'll be sure to be on the lookout for more productions from them, and I'll be sure to post them here.


The Brooklyn Theatre Arts production of Cabaret is no longer running.

A Collaborative Double Feature

I've been remiss in my posting, particularly in regards to Collaborative Stages, a small company which has been bringing full productions of established and new plays, as well as concerts and special events, to the New York theatre community.

Most recently they produced the double feature of Somewhere in Between by Ryan Sprague and Deflowering Waldo by Adam Szymkowicz.

The contrast, for those of us who spent the entire evening with Collaborative Stages, was beautiful, and beautifully orchestrated.

We started off our evening with an intimate look at relationships. Blood vs. water. It's blood that brings that characters together and blood that ultimately bonds them.

Greg (Erik Gullberg) and Joshua (Jeffrey A. Wisniewski) are brothers who come together for this first time since their mother has passed away. And also for the first time since Joshua has married Lissa (Ariel Woodiwiss), a conservative Christian. Greg is rebellious, confrontational and a disruptive force in what he sees as false happiness in his brother's home. Lissa wants him out until they are forced to spend a day together, during which all of the secrets come out. Both Joshua and Greg have secrets about their past and the death of their younger brother, and each will tell the story differently. Though these secrets bring Lissa and Gr

eg closer together, Greg acts rashly when he fears it could come between him and his brother.

The stark design by Elise Handelman showed us the structure of a home with no real walls, no real doors, and no real roof. The semblance of a home which, when struck by Michael Megliola's lighting design, proves to be nothing more than a shell. The cast, under the direction of Collaborative Stage's Artistic Director Brian Letchworth, was well up to the challenges of the play, and wide open to the questions posed by it. It was good to see that no one involved was afraid of the insecurity posed by the play's grisly end, nor to embrace that which is grisly in all relationships.

Ariel Woodiwiss and Erik Gullberg

After this rollercoaster of emotional highs and lows, they brought us into the life of Waldo (Jordan Levin), an agoraphobic, misanthropic, manic-depressive virgin who--at 24--is still afraid of the monster under his bed. If Somewhere In Between was a rollercoaster of emotions which rang true for its audience, Deflowering Waldo was a rollercoaster of stylized hilarity. Waldo's psychologist, the brilliantly uninhibited Heather Dudenbostel, must visit his room to analyze him, since he will not leave. Convenient for her, since her only real plan is to de-virginize him. There are problems, though. Waldo's mother (Cheryl Lynn Crabtree) has dinner on the table and his father (Robert Eigen) wants him to mow the lawn. (Waldo's father has also recently adopted a Scottish accent.) To make matters worse, his newest girlfriend (Megan Sass) is pounding down the door to know why he stood her up on their date. The cast is rounded out by Danielle Strauss as Waldo's ex-girlfriend and Erin M. Callahan as the Monster under Waldo's bed.

Levin, as Waldo, is the axis on which this frightening carousel revolves, and he is up to the task. He provides a mania that fits into the stylized nature of the show, but never loses the honesty we need to believe in his fears. The rest of the cast follows suit to bring a sincerely touching conclusion to the frantic evening, tightly directed by Jeff Crosley.

From the divine to the absurd (and back again) Collaborative Stages' double feature of Somewhere In Between and Deflowering Waldo made for an evening of tears, both of laughter and catharsis.