More than just about anything, I love good theatre. I love new theatre, theatre that makes you think, theatre that changes the ideas of what theatre can do, and mostly theatre that can move people.
As a young theatre professional in NYC, I want to bring the news of all new and exciting theatre.
I promised you all an update on the concert given by my friend--a fantastic singer/actress--Mary Fishburne. The show was called Drawn to You, a clever title for a cabaret act of songs created for a slew of legendary characters... cartoon characters. Mary opened the show with a silver-voiced interpretation of "What Can I Do for You?", a song by Edward Heyman and Sammy Timberg that was introduced to the world by the croaking voice of Popeye the Sailor Man. (Fishburne proceeded to muse that, although it is taboo to sing a song that was introduced by such a legend, she felt she brought a new quality to the song--singing.)
This proved to be a fantastic and charming opening for a fantastic and charming show. First of all, Ms. Fishburne is a delight. She brings an air of Southern charm combined with New York know-how, a stunning mix, to this performance. This is most apparent in her performance of the Alan Menken song "Pink Fish," a song about a Southern girl in New York discovering bagels and lox.
The other thing she and writer/director Jeffrey Sweet brought to the evening was a sense of sincerity. This was not a gimmick show. While they gave us the requisite jokes comparing Ms. Fishburne to the likes of Minnie Mouse and Olive Oil, she also brought a grounding--dare I say it?--third dimension to the material.
With material ranging from silver-screen Disney to classic television and back, the show, accompanied by the amazing Rick Hip-Flores, married whimsy to true human (or in some cases, animal) emotions for a beautiful show. Kudos to producer Jeff Landsman (of the York Theatre's Developmental Reading Series) for finding these artists and bringing them together.
In attendance the night that I saw the show was the daughter of legendary cartoon composer Sammy Timberg (of the Popeye opening number), who was there to see her father's material celebrated. We chatted beforehand and she asked me if I was Mary's boyfriend. I thought to myself after seeing the show, I should just lied and said "Yes!"
Those of us who were in high school on September 11, 2001, remember what it was like to have a wrench thrown into our teenage years. We also remember what it was like to try to have a ‘normal’ high school experience through the code-red drills the rest of our adolescence.
The characters in Edgewise, a new play at the Cherry Lane theatre, do not remember when the world turned upside-down. They have been living through war, panic and air strikes their entire lives. For them, it’s just the world. The play, written by Eliza Clark, takes place in the near future and its characters—high school seniors in the play—are probably in seventh or eighth grade right now.
Marco (Justin Levine), Ruckus (David Gelles-Hurwitz) and Emma (Jessica Howell) all work at Doogle, a hamburger chain. Ruckus has just become manager—because his father is the owner. Marco arrives early, but falls asleep on the job. Emma arrives to find that nothing’s been done. Just an ordinary day in war-ridden New Jersey. That is, until an unidentified stranger in army boots covered in dirt and blood stumbles in and collapses. (We will later learn that this man—played by Jedadiah Schultz—is named Louis.)
So, what to do now? This is the question that playwright Eliza Clark poses to her audience. In war times who can you trust? How can you tell who is the enemy and who is not—especially when the radio just said two soldiers of the enemy are on the loose?
The play offers many different perspectives about war. Ruckus can’t wait to join up. Marco lost his father to a group of traitors. Emma’s mother has just been called up. Louis has seen more than he can bear. And more than that—Louis remembers the way things used to be. All of these stakes and emotions are guided skillfully by director Lila Neugebauer. The staging is daring, often giving us actors’ backs—a Grade A No-No that Neugebauer utilizes with grace and power.
The performances carry great weight and energy in the three protagonists who are diverse characters with a feeling of unified ensemble. Shultz brings the necessary gravity to the piece in his role as an older and wiser soldier who brings not only years, but real life experience. A surprising comic turn comes about half way through with the entrance of Eric Gilde as a seemingly innocent customer. The necessary relief of tension lasts only long enough for us to catch our breath before the action starts up again.
There are a few flaws, I’m sorry to say. They are minor in the grand scheme, but glaring in comparison to the excellence of the rest of the play. Far too often characters would disappear—frequently to the bathroom—for extended periods of time, allowing for expository one-on-one scenes for those still in view. Not a terrible convention if they weren’t gone so long. Too frequently the absences would be longer than one would assume they ought to be, convenient for them and for those still onstage, but odd, especially given the circumstances. The second comes in a specific moment when Emma, just after closely escaping a pair of scissors in her throat, offers her attacker an Advil. The exchange has no clear dramatic purpose and makes the audience wonder just how nice a person can actually be.
Still, the point of the play is vibrantly clear in this energetic and powerful production. Clark gives us a world that is much like our own. The daily lives of these teens are much like every day life now. But the climate is tense. She reminds us that life in a police state is not normal, even for people who grew up with it.
It is not the first play to discuss where we are in danger of heading if we’re not careful. The genius of the play lies in the constant reminder of war’s affect on civilian life. The main cast is comprised of a generation of kids who only know war. Perhaps not quite what Senator McCain had in mind when he proposed that we stay in Iraq for a hundred years.
For more information on Edgewise, go to www.CherryLaneTheatre.org.
This past Sunday evening's performance of Minnie's Boys, the first show in The York Theatre Company's summer line-up of Musicals in Mufti, was postponed nearly forty minutes while we waited for the fire-department to save the people trapped in the elevator. Those of us sitting in our seats during those forty minutes, anticipating the final concert performance of this Larry Grossman/Hal Hackady musical starring Pamela "Another Hundred People" Meyers, certainly thought ourselves fortunate not to be the ones stuck in the elevator. But not necessarily for reasons one might assume.
It can't be much fun being stuck in an elevator, and I hope never to find myself in that predicament. But the folks at The York know how to take what could have been an annoyance for those of us sitting and waiting and turn it into a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
When, at about ten minutes after the intended curtain, player Jim Walton (Broadway's original Franklin Shepard, Inc. in Stephen Sondheim and George Furth's Merrily We Roll Along) bounded across the stage and sat at the piano, I was confused. Frequent York actor and musical director Matt Castle (most recently of another Sondheim/Furth collaboration, the John Doyle revival of Company) was to be the MD for this performance, no? Perhaps this was a fun gimmicky thing to--finally--start the show?
Then Producing Artistic Director James Morgan anounced news of the elevator crisis and told us that in the interim, Jim Walton would be taking requests. He began with what I can only describe as an intentionally dubious and utterly hilarious rendition of "The Man on the Flying Trapeze." He then asked for requests. As I sat in my seat wondering if I should ask for the Kander and Ebb song "Sara Lee" that he sang in And the World Goes 'Round, someone else beat me to it. We all got to join in for the chorus, as well as sing-along renditions of "On the Sunny Side of the Street" and "Ain't Misbehavin'" (as per my father's request for some Fats Waller, which resulted first in a delightful Jim Walton original melody set to the lyric "Fats Waller"). The real highlight for me was when he began the opening vamp from "Good Thing Going," a favorite from the ill-fated Merrily We Roll Along, and almost directly segued into my personal favorite, "Not a Day Goes By." The performance was peppered with anecdotes about the original production, including a story about Lonny Price whispering "There are actually people in the balcony!" at the top of the second act during a preview performance. He was not joined by any of his fellow Minnie's Boys castmates, but they seemed to enjoy heckling him from the wings.
Then the heroes of the evening came in. No, not the firemen, the brave people who took one for the team in that elevator so the rest of us could listen to the glorious Jim Walton. They received a huge round of entrance applause--almost as much as Pamela Meyers received upon her entrance.
After the show--which was wonderful--I asked Jim Walton if he does birthday parties. He said, "No, but I can." Just something to keep in mind if you have a birthday coming up!
Edit: I've just learned from Jim Morgan at tonight's Mufti performance of Goodtime Charley that there is a video of the heroes themselves in the elevator, and it's been posted on YouTube. So, here it is, folks:
