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.

Great Comedy (via the Back Door)

I've stumbled upon a comedy duo that I need to recognize here. Not only are they hilarious, they're also running a terrific stand-up show every other Monday night at Bar Nine where comedians of all stripes come to try out their new material and tickle the audience's collective funny-bone. They are Kelly and Lindsey and they are the brassy, beautiful and always blunt hostesses of Back Door Comedy.

Kelly Wallace-Barnhill and Lindsey Gentile

An evening with Kelly and Lindsey can range from stories about pinworms to the history of their dating lives (Lindsey has a new boyfriend named Micah and 2010 is looking to be a repeat of what Kelly refers to as "The Year of the Dry Vagina"). In fact, sex--or the lack thereof--seems to be a common thread in the act. Kelly even put an ad out on Craigslist to find a new man... not so much for the sex, but so she'd have someone to take on double dates with Lindsey and Micah. They even video-taped the test-date they went on with their three finalists:



Kelly and Lindsey also bring along with them a slew of talented comedians, including Harrison Greenbaum, Trevor Williams, Ali Wong, and many others. Their next show is February 15 (the day after Valentine's Day) when these two lovely ladies and their friends will regale us all with tales of the worst dates of their lives. It should be fun!


Back Door Comedy's next show is Monday night, February 15 at 8:00pm at Bar Nine on 9th Avenue between 53rd and 54th Streets.

What makes a musical a musical?

Normally I don't blog about professional shows. I pretty much figure they don't need my attention, and I'd rather give it where it might not get the attention. But something has occurred to me that is somewhat troublesome. Despite the recent insurgence of movie musicals, Hollywood still seems to be afraid of them. Beginning with Baz Lurhman's flashy--if somewhat hollow--Moulin Rouge, a re-telling of Camille utilizing popular music from the 50s through the present day, it seemed there was an audience for super-charged musical numbers allowing the heroes and even the villains to pour their hearts out through song. Rob Marshall's Chicago found a way to comment on the action through song, the way the stage show does with its vaudevillian musical numbers, by employing dream sequences for the stage-struck Roxie Hart. Dreamgirls didn't have an all-out real-time musical number until almost halfway through the first act with the song "Family," though the music was handled very well after that. It wasn't until Hairspray, Sweeney Todd and Mamma Mia! that we saw no-holds-barred musical numbers in a film, and even those had their fair share of flaws.

This brings us to the latest project by Chicago director/choreographer Rob Marshall. He seems to be systemmatically going through the works of the great choreographers of the American Musical Theatre, starting with Fosse, now Tommy Tune, and rumor has it that Michael Bennett's Follies (which already has some elements of fantasy in it) may be next up. So, for a man who obviously has such reverence for these great men who told stories so beautifully through song and dance, why does he seem ashamed of the musical sequences in his latest project, Nine? Why has he hidden them, once again, in dreamland? And why are they so painfully under-choreographed and--even worse--filmed as though the dancing were unimportant? The musical sequences in Nine, which at one point were of great importance to the plot and to the central character Guido Contini, have been bannished to the inside of Guido's head where words that were sung to him in previous incarnations are now imaginary.

I will say that musical numbers like "Be Italian" and even parts of the unimpressive new "Cinema Italiano" served their purposes beautifully on screen. But even the devestating "My Husband Makes Movies," performed by the infinitely talented Marion Cotillard, lacked the power that the number should have, and does have on stage when it is sung in earnest by woman trying to express to vulturous journalists her simultaneous admiration and disappointment in her husband's craft.

And yet, the unashamed, unabashed musical production number does not seem to be quite as dead as the creators of Nine would have us believe. I've noticed them popping up more and more in non-musical entertainment. What sparked me to write this post was something I saw this week on my favorite current sitcom, How I Met Your Mother. When Barney Stinson, the infamous playboy of the series portrayed by musical theatre star Neil Patrick Harriss, must decide between the opportunity to have sex with a hot bartender (his first) or his closet-full of suits (his first love), his thoughts go something like this:


Now, this musical sequence, while much more satisfying than almost all of the production numbers in Nine, is still a fantasy sequence, the likes of which Rob Marshall is so fond of. In general, dance and musical sequences are supposed to bring out the essence of what a character is feeling, beyond the capacity of mere words. This was brilliantly utilized in the only musical sequence in the non-musical film 500 Days of Summer in the scene after Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) spends his first night with Summer (Zooey Deschanel):


So, if artists still find the use of musical numbers effective, and if audiences still seem to react positively to them, why do films like Nine feel the need to hide their musical numbers? It seems to me that audiences will react positively to anything, if it's given to them honestly and without any excuses. The second a musical begins to make excuses for its musical numbers, it begins to lose its audience, as Nine has also proven so far. Perhaps Rob Marshall should take advice from one of his own characters in Nine (ironically from one of the more lacklustre numbers in the film) and just allow himself to provide good, harmless entertainment without gussying it up.

Queens Midsummer no more yeilding but a dream

The Secret Theatre is one of the best kept secrets in Queens. It took me nearly twenty minutes to find the place. Once you can deecipher betwee 44th Road, 44th Street, 44th Avenue and 44th Drive, you come to the arts building that houses The Secret Theatre (located on 23rd Street between 44th Road and 44th Avenue). But The Secret Theatre is not actually in said arts building, it's down the alley just right of the arts building. And there are two productions running concurrently, so make sure you go into the correct theatre.

However, it's all worth is for the production of William Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream which is playing in the theatre closest to the street (go up a small set of stairs to the plateau that forms the entrance to the theatre) produced by The Queens Players and directed by Katherine M. Carter.

The cast of A Midsummer Night's Dream

Ms. Carter's production was sleek without being cheap, chic without being gaudy and an all-around good time. Employing a design reminiscent of Peter Brooks' "white box" Midsummer, Carter takes us to a dreamlike no-man's land. So dreamlike, in fact, that all of her performers are dressed in pajamas! This white set (complete with flowing white columns) serves the multi-faceted purpose of indicating every setting of the play, with the help of the beautifully whimsical light design from Lisa Hufnagle.

The play concerns the forbidden love between Lysander, an Athenian youth, and Hermia, whose father Egeus wants her to marry Demetrius, beloved for Hermia's childhood friend Helena. Make sense so far? To escape the harsh Athenian law, Hermia and Lysander flee through the forest, pursued by Demetrius who is, in turn, pursued by Helena. Also in the forest are a motley crew of handymen-turned-actors, lead by Peter Quince, rehearsing a play of Pyramus and Thisbe. Got that? All of these mortals find themselves entangled in the marital feud of Oberon and Titania, the king and queen of the fairies. And, in the morning, Theseus (of the Minotaur myth) will wed Hippolyta (Queen of the Amazons, from later on in the same myth). Follow?

In the central roles of the lovers, James Parenti and Katie Braden (as Demetrius and Helena) provide the more slapstick and sex-driven humor to the more pastoral and domestic humor of Joe Mullen and Angelica Duncan (as Lysander and Hermia). This does not mean, however, that the slapstick is not provided by all. Mullen must, at one point, catch Duncan as she propells herself horizontally across the stage toward a cowerring Braden.

Next up are the mechanicals, a ragged bunch of actor-wannabes, provide a far less romantic brand of comedy than the lovers. Lead by Timothy J. Cox as Peter Quince, whose power is often usurped by the dramatic Nick Bottom, played by Chris Kateff, this is about the sorriest band of crude actors with the biggest hearts anyone could ask for. The performance of Pyramus and Thisbe in the last scene of the play--always a highlight of any production--is spot on campy, ridiculous and completely honest.

Tiffany Denise Turner, Chris Kateff, Trish Phelps and Sarah King

Finally, the fairies. Mischevous creatures who take joy in screwing with mortals. The first we meet is Jeni Ahfield, deliciously malicious in the role of Robin Goodfellow, better known as Puck, quickly followed by the imposing Randy Warshaw as Oberon and the devestatingly elegant Tiffany Denise Turner as his Queen Titania. Rounding out the fairies are the delightful Trish Phelps and Sarah King (who provides beautiful ukelele music throughout her scenes with her queen).

The production is whimsical and farcical, but not bagatelle. In its seriousness, in its humor, in its honesty, it is a delight from beginning to end.

A Midsummer Night's Dream runs at The Secret Theatre, 44-02 23rd Street, LIC through January 3rd. Tickets can be purchased through OvationTix.

Festival Season

Sorry I'm a little late with this one. Things have gotten busy since Festival Season has begun! The New York Fringe Festival has come and gone, and I saw two fascinating piece of theatre.

I've probably raved enough about the Five Flights Theater Company, who started out with their ensemble theatre piece Don't Step on the Cracks, which they took to the Woodstock Fringe Festival last summer along with You Are Cordially Invited..., before arriving at the New York Fringe Festival this summer.

The 5 Flights Theater Company

So, since my adoration for the work of this ensemble is no secret, I'll just spend a little time going over the highlights of this new streamlined, one-act Don't Step. The segment which probably always punches the biggest wallop for me is the monologue "Goodnight Moon," written and performed by Jake Bartush. spoken to the moon, a young man thanks a fellow student for bringing his parents back into his life after the suicide of the fellow student. Bartush's performance has only gotten better the more he's done this show. And the monologue itself is as fine a piece of writing as you'll find in any of the best audition books.

It was fascinating to come back to the character of "Nanny," portrayed by Laurel Casillo in Adam Delia's sketch about a young man coming to terms with his grandmother's Alzheimer's disease, since the company did an entire play (written by Casillo and Delia) around this character. Ms. Casillo is in fine form and still as transformative as ever.

What struck me this time as it hasn't before is the honesty and sincere commeraderie with which Nick Hepsoe and Will Lacker perform Eryck Tait's scene "O Captain, My Captain," in which Hepsoe's character deals with the fall of a favorite superhero. In the past the comedy of this scene has seemed to come from its absurdity, but this time it came from the integrity behind the words and the intensity of the emotions.

The piece was expertly reformed and reshaped for this theatre and this new one-act format by Eryck Tait. I said to my companion after the show, "I don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing this show."


The other Fringe show I saw was a semi-autobiographical tale of coming of age--and simply coming--in Israel called Sex and the Holy Land by Melanie Zoey Weinstein. Trapped between the land of "sex farce" and "coming of age story," Sex and the Holy Land has some very fascinating potential. The play deals with Lili (Weinstein), a Long Island Jewess who travels to Israel with her best friends Chaya (Ruby Joy) and Or (Sarah-Doe Osborne) to find... something. There are parts that are wonderfully written and characters that are beautifully formed, though overall the play fails to deliver what it promises. It would seem that the play suffers from too much autobiography and not enough play, to the extent that the playwright has been cast as herself. A little bit of distance might do both playwright and play a great service.

But, to the successes of Sex and the Holy Land first. Probably the most affective convention Ms. Weinstein uses comes in the form of three Jewish mothers (played to exhaustive hilarity by Goldie Zwiebel, Michelle Slonim and Susan Slatin) who embody not only Lili's mother, but the mother or grandmother of anyone who's ever been guilt-tripped.

The play also comes with some beautifully grounded performances, mostly from Ms. Joy and Ms. Osborne who portray Lili's best friends. When the three are together, we understand why they all came. We see the bond that they share that brought them to the Holy Land together. Apart, there are strengths and weaknesses to the character. While Ms. Joy plays Chaya with subtle intensity, the character's basic motive--searching for sex to replace a missing father figure and uncertain belief in God--tends to come across as rather flat. One wishes that the play offered Ms. Joy the opportunity to really show what she's obviously capable of. However, when not following Lili, the play tends to lean in the direction of Or, also somewhat sex crazed, but devoted, for most of the play, to Dan the Man (Gabriel Sloyer), an American Jew who trained and fought in the Israeli army. Ms. Osborne really gets to show off her chops and her range when her character accidentally finds herself in a bind not easily broken. She shows us that this is a girl who likes fun, but knows when the fun has to end. Mr. Sloyer, portraying Or's army boyfriend, is no slouch either. His scenes with the women of the play are genuine and often touching, with a healthy dose of humor.

The staging by Lee Gundersheimer is often clever, though sometimes too much so for its own good, calling attention to its own cleverness. Still, the transitions were smooth and graceful, often resulting in striking stage pictures. Utilizing just a sheet and benches, Gundersheimer was able to create the beach and the desert, an airplane and a nightclub, and--most striking--Jeruselem's Western Wall.

Michelle Slonim (Jewish Mother 2), Goldie Zwiebel (Jewish Mother 1), Susan Slatin (Jewish Mother 3); Sarah-Doe Osborne (Or), Gabriel Sloyer (Dan the Man), Melanie Zoey Weinstein (Lili), Ruby Joy (Chaya)

The question becomes "Is this a play for people who are not Jewish or Israeli?" Looking at the overarching themes and goals for the main characters, it ought to be. If it could find a way to stick with its specificity without being about Judaism (the way that a play like Fiddler on the Roof or Agnes of God can be specific to a culture without being about its religion) then it can be, but at present there were too many alienating moments for those of us who are not Jewish (or at least don't identify that closely with that portion of our heritage). Since Lili herself doesn't seem to know exactly what she's trying to find in Israel, it's hard for us in the audience to follow her journey with much interest beyond the curiosity of "What's going to happen next?"

Unfortunately, though, the most alienating moment had nothing to do with Judaica at all. The climax of the play--and I use that phrase both figuratively and literally--comes when Lili is finally able to find her orgasm (possibly the thing she was looking for all along?), which comes with awkward tableaux and silly projections. If the moment was supposed to symbolize the release of Lili's hold on herself and her ability to let go and enjoy life, then the staging did not reflect that, which is a shame.

But sometimes, the good overrides the not-as good, and perhaps this play's niche audience spoke in praise loud enough, because the play has been chosen for the Fringe Festival's Encore Series, performing from September 11-22, so there's still a chance for you, faithful reader, to catch it and decide for yourself.

"Something Witty" This Way Comes

There's blood on my program from the show I saw last Friday night, and I'm not sure whose it is. You see, there were four zombies in the show, and I chatted afterward with all of them, so it could be any one.

The show I saw was called Hilarity/Belly Laughs and Snorts and it was an evening of short comedies produced by the newly formed 'Something Witty Productions,' headed by Alicia Rachel Becker and Dana Hunter (who recently appeared together in the wildly funny Happy Hour at the 45th Street Theatre).

Among the many performances in the nine absurdist comedies presented, many of them were admirable, but there were a few stand-outs. The absolute stand-out of the evening was Donna Brookbanks performance in Anne Breslaw's "Middle School Dance," directed by Alicia Rachel Becker. The piece seemed to be more guided than scripted as Ms. Brookbanks went through the motions of trying to find a dance partner among those in attendance (only to wind up dancing with a married man... eek!) and reminding us of all the awkwardness we'd like to pretend we didn't actually go through when we were pre-teens.

Phoebe Halkowich's performance in David Alex Andrejko's "Edgewise" was another stand-out, a tour-de-force performance as a self-centered, babbling Manhattanite. She should win a prize for memorization alone.

Also notable was Sarah King's wonderful performance in Joe Tracz's less than wonderful play "Death Comes for a Wedding," as an old woman who's ready to make a choice for herself for once. The quality of that play was especially disappointing given how wonderfully stylized his other play, "American Werewolf in Equus," was (both gracefully directed by Katherine Carter).

Both of the Artistic Directors got a chance to strut their stuff, as well. First, opening the second half of the show, Alicia Rachel Becker (under the direction of Maggie Levin) played a bi-polar new wife to husband Anthony Lobrasco in Brett Hursey's play "Scrambled." The play dealt with the question of fidelity when a man buys his co-worker a box of tampons. Though, for Ms. Becker, there seemed to be no question. As she scrambled the eggs, and with them her mind, she seemed certain that her time had run out when another woman's time had come.

Brett Hursey's other play, "The Stand-In," featured Dana Hunter as a desperate actress auditioning opposite a sock puppet. The key, it seems, to the comedy in this piece is the honesty and sincerity with which Ms. Hunter gave her all in this audition opposite the absurdity of Kyle Wood's performance as a manic director and Matthew Groff's performance as Xocko.

The evening came to a close with a play by Dusty Wilson called "Fortnight of the Living Dead." Danny Tenzer lead Adam Schneider and Brandon Waters in a fight against the--you guessed it--zombies that had overtaken their city. The plan, however, is foiled when the talented and attractive Allison Tebbano seduces each one of the party one by one, ending in a blood-lust orgy. Take that, Megan Fox. Tom Bonner's direction of the piece kept it in a healthy reality that the audience could both recognize and dread. Truth be told, I'd probably let Allison Tebbano eat my brains, too.

The producers kept their word with this one. There was certainly hilarity, there were certainly belly laughs, and I definitely heard a couple of snorts from the woman behind me.