Category: The Shaker

By Michael “Buzz” Buzzelli, ‘Burgh Vivant

Are we the masters of our own destiny, or do the fates conspire against us? That is the question that Sophocles posits in “Oedipus Rex.” His answer isn’t a pretty one. According to the Athenian playwright, man is locked into his own fate from birth to death, and the more he tries to wrangle out of it, the closer fate comes running up beside him and kicking him in the balls.

You will not get a spoiler warning, because this ancient tale is almost 3,000 years old: A tyrant named Laius took a child bride, Jocasta (Shammen McCune), but as soon as she gives birth, he hears of a prophecy that his son will murder him and marry his wife. He rips the child from his mother and orders the child to be killed.

Plot twist!

The child, Oedipus (Justin Wade Wilson), is taken away to be raised by Polybus and Merope, the king and queen of Corinth. There, young Oedipus learns of a prophecy that he will kill his father and marry his mother (sound familar?). He flees Corinth to deny his fate, assuming that Polybus and Merope were his biological parents. On the way, he gets into a dispute with a surly man on the road. He kills the man. Any guesses who it is?

If you guessed Laius, move to the head of the class.

Oedipus arrives in Thebes, where the town is under the curse of the Sphinx (Karen Baum). Oedipus defeats the Sphinx by answering its riddles. The townspeople are thrilled. They are so overcome with joy, they marry him off to the wife to the deceased king.

Dunt dunt da!

That’s when things get all Jerry Springer. The couple live in peace for a time, having four children, two boys and two girls (daughter Antigone gets her own spinoff).

Then another plague hits Thebes. It turns out the gods are displeased again. Those Greek gods are always stirring the pot. They want Laius’s killer brought to justice. Oedipus vows to capture the miscreant who committed regicide. The new king puts his wife’s brother Creon (Johnny Lee Davenport) in charge of searching for the eyewitness who saw the king die, and the mysteries begin to unravel.

Obviously the audience gets to the truth a few steps before Oedipus, but it’s not complex, especially if you’re familiar with the Oedipal Complex. Watching the play unfold is a little bit like watching a car crash in slow motion. You know it’s going to be devastating but you can’t pull your eyes away.

Woe, there was never a more ill-fated love affair than that of Oedipus and Jocasta. You’ll blanch every time Oedipus and Jocasta kiss and embrace.

Wilson plays Oedipus with a bold intensity. He commands the stage with a royal presence befit for a king. He is matched in power and charisma by McCune.

Creon is strong, powerful and angry. Davenport plays him stately poise and tremendous self-confidence. He is amazing in the role.

They are surrounded by a chorus of actors, all who excel in their roles, especially Linda Haston and Kevin H. Moore.

Haston leads the chorus. Her voice formidable, potent and full of authority.

In a flashback, Moore gets a brief turn playing King Laius, and it is a hell of a performance, even though it is wordless.

Two special guest stars, Karen Baum and James FitzGerald, grace the stage with brief but memorable roles.

Note: Sophocles, one of the world’s first and best playwrights, is aided here by director Alan Stanford. It’s a masterful adaptation of the text. It is simple without being simplistic. The actors pantomime the actions. The words become more potent as the exposition is played out before us. The chorus members each speak with their own distinct voice, instead of blending into one monotone amalgam. They become fiery, passionate beings with their own desires. The words ring true and as relevant today as they were written more than 2,500 years ago (in 429 BC to be exact).

Stanford’s adaptation should be the standard-bearer for the twenty-first century. Don’t be embarrassed to laugh. There are a lot of witty moments. Much of the humor comes from its relevancy in modern times. The chorus scolds Oedipus for living so publically. It’s almost as if the Greek king had a Twitter account.

The set and lighting were also expertly done. Johnmichael Bohach’s design looks like a temple out of an old episode of the original Star Trek. It is eerily lit by Antonio Colaruotolo, with a lot of deep blues, reds and purples.

The only drawback were conditions of the venue. It is stiflingly warm in the theater space, and the seats are not very comfortable. One patron (apparently a subscriber) brought her own cushion.

All things considered, Oedipus rocks! It is still an important work of art. It’s one mother of a show.

The Union Project, 801 North Negley Avenue, Highland Park, Pittsburgh, PA 15206. For more information, click here. 

 – MB 

By Michael “Buzz” Buzzelli, ‘Burgh Vivant

A long-suffering married couple, George (Brett Sullivan Santry) and Martha (Joanna Lowe), invite a younger, newly-married couple, Nick (Tom Kolos) and Honey (Hilary Caldwell), back to their home for an unwitting evening of intense psychological warfare in Edward Albee’s “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf.”

The eponymous title is a quip Martha may have coined at a party, a literary spin on the child’s nursery rhyme. The true author of the intellectual joke is unclear, but the pun reverberates throughout the play. The witty song changes intent from humor, to accusation to, finally, a sad treatise of the events, a commentary on truth and illusion.

George and Martha are lost, spiritually and emotionally, but they both retain their keen mental prowess. Their wit is searing as they tear each other apart. Most couple’s play charades with their guests, George and Martha play devastatingly maniacal games such as “Get the Guests,” “Hump the Hostess” and “Bringing Up Baby.”

Nick and Honey are, at first, mortified by the couple’s churlish behavior, but, eventually, they become enmeshed in the acts of verbal carnage.

Santry and Lowe are brilliant as George and Martha. Their performances are flawless. They cajole and vex each other for nearly three hours (there are two intermissions, before the second and third acts). They are land mines in the living room, with megatons of explosive energy.

Kolos and Caldwell are capable sparing partners. Kolos gives a terrific performance as Nick. He seethes with righteous anger, beams with pride, reveals his own dark secrets and is eventually humbled by his hosts.

Caldwell’s job is a little easier. She’s the drunken comic relief. She has a few moments of clarity and quakes with fear, but her role is not as dark and dense as her fellow performers. She plays it with aplomb.

The most amazing thing about this production of “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” is the venue. George, Martha and their guests, Nick and Honey, tear and claw at one another in a modest living room in the middle of a Point Breeze home. The audience sits on folding chairs inches away from the actors. It’s an immersive experience. The closer you are to the performance, the more intimate it becomes. It’s slightly uncomfortable, but fully engaging. In small audiences of twenty, sometimes a laugh spills out at inappropriate time. It can be uncomfortable and self-conscious, but you should feel right at home in this production. The wit pours out almost as frequently as the alcohol.

The cast huffs and puffs and eventually blows down the house. They are impeccable performances.

Everett Lowe’s frenetic pacing makes the three hour running time seem short. There’s something about the immersive venue: the play feels urgent, momentous and important.

“Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” is dark and twisted, like black licorice. Much like onyx braids of Twizzlers, the bitter aftertaste isn’t for everyone. For the rest of us, it’s downright delicious.

“Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” is performed in an undisclosed location in Pittsburgh’s Point Breeze neighborhood. For more information about tickets, or to make reservations, e-mail cupajo.woolf@gmail.com or call (412) 334-3126. Additional information can be found here.

– MB

 

 

By Michael “Buzz” Buzzelli, ‘Burgh Vivant

Before Lin-Manuel Miranda rapped about Alexander Hamilton, Michael Friedman and Alex Timbers brought “Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson” to Broadway, an irreverent punked-out version of seventh president of the United States. Imagine getting a history lesson in New York’s CBGB & OMFUG on a Saturday night at four in the morning.

A Storyteller (Caroline Roach) narrates the tale of Andrew Jackson (Michael Tarasovich). While “Bloody Bloody” contains some history, there are a lot of alternative facts. It would be unwise to turn in a history paper citing some of the examples from the play. It’s purposefully riddled with anachronisms; replete with electric guitars and telephones. There’s a “wink, wink, nudge, nudge” feeling throughout. Before the Storyteller can dish too much dirt (and/or oodles of exposition), she is quickly dispatched, by a gun, in the throat, by our hero, Old Hickory.

Basically “Bloody Bloody” the story of a foul-mouthed racist who becomes president. When Jackson talks of freedom, he means only white Anglo-Saxon Americans and no one else. Red Masquers timing is impeccable, almost prescient. Don’t worry, if you don’t get it. Dramaturg Eva Diodati spells it out very clearly in her notes, in a witty and clever section of the program.

At the onset of “Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson,” the chorus sings, “And we’re gonna take this country back…from people like us who don’t just think about things. People who make things happen. Sometimes with guns. Sometimes with speeches, too.”

Jackson’s story is a complicated one. He founded the Democratic Party. He was a national hero. He was also responsible for the deaths of thousands of Native Americans when he initiated the Indian Removal Act of 1830. The most memorable song is a child-like rhyme about the Trail of Tears titled, “Ten Little Indians,” marvelously rendered by Lauren Gardonis. The song is catchy and haunting.

Tarasovich is a charimatic lead. While their are many actors playing multiple roles, the show rests on the portrayal of Andrew Jackson. He does a fine job.

John E. Lane, Jr.’s set design is flawless. It’s a flashback to punk rock clubs in the 80s, like Pittsburgh’s Decade and the aforementioned CBGB. Costume and make-up were equally on par with the set. The cast rocked the look. They were one Mohawk away from perfection (the hair-style not the Native American).

Don’t be fooled by the saintly name of the Genesius Theater. This musical is not for nuns, unless you know a sister that swears like a sailor. There is also strobe lights and smoke.

Musicals are difficult. Everyone has to look right, sound right and the choreography must be flawless for it to work.  There are a few weak links in the chain (not the one separating the band from the action), but it shouldn’t stop you from seeing this show. “Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson” isn’t a perfect musical, but it’s an important one, especially now.

“Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson” runs till March 19 at the Genesius Theater on Duquesne campus in downtown Pittsburgh. For more information, click here.

 

Red Masquers Presents Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson

The historical rock musical redefines Andrew Jackson, America’s seventh President, as a punk-era rock star who uses his power to found the Democratic Party. As President, Jackson learns that running a country is not as easy as he wants it to be, from dealing with “those pesky Indians” to “those wealthy New England Congress [Censored].”

Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson, music and lyrics by Michael Friedman, book by Alex Timbers, and directed by Jill Jeffrey, runs March 15, 16, at 8:00pm,March 17, 18, at 8:00pm and 12:00am midnight and March 19 at 2:00pm. The show will be held at Duquesne University’s new Genesius Theater located at the corner of Seitz and Locust Streets on the Duquesne University Campus, uptown.

$16.50 General Admission, $6.50 for Students and $11.50 for Seniors

Purchase tickets at the door or in advance by visiting here.

By Michael “Buzz” Buzzelli, ‘Burgh Vivant

From funeral to flashback: Arlene Weiner’s “Findings” starts at the end and works its way backwards.

In New Jersey, Life Coach Jennifer Cortland (Amy Marsalis) helps total strangers repair their difficult relationships, but cannot connect with her own daughter, Lainie (Julia de Avilez Rocha). Meanwhile, devil-may-care Gloria Bazon (Lissa Brennan) falls for a puppy, and, then, a man, Ray Jerome (Sam Lothard), in New Orleans. The disparate threads converge.  Jennifer is Gloria’s slightly older sibling.  The older sister thinks she’s in control. She has a rock solid relationship with her husband, Dr. Roger Cortland (John Michnya).  She seems to have it all together, except for the deteriorating relationship with her only child.

Lainie is trying to find herself.  Jennifer doesn’t know how to find a way back in to her daughter’s life. Gloria is having trouble being herself. Ultimately, “Findings” has some trouble finding itself.

For a long time, there doesn’t seem to be any real point, until Lainie runs away and Gloria has a car accident. It quickly goes from melodrama to mysterious malady of the week.

Remember those very special episodes of “Designing Women” and “Golden Girls?” Wherein, one of the stars would have a new friend with an illness? It’s a lot like that, but without the laughs. At one point, they read about the illness from the pamphlet. It’s a little bit better than having Dixie Carter stare into the camera and rattle of facts off the top of her head, but not by very much.

“Findings” has some decent moments. It passes the Bechdel Test; all the women have moments where they talk to one another and it’s not about men. That is always a breath of fresh air and should be applauded every time (until we finally live in a society where it’s not even necessary to give accolades for something that should be standard practice).

Weiner wrote “Findings” like a movie, with fast paced dialogue and quick cuts. For a play, however, there are just too many scene changes. The set is in a state of constant flux. They could have trimmed thirty minutes off the running time, if the walls and furniture would have stayed put. The movement kills some of the momentum.

There isn’t enough conflict in “Findings.” In real life, it would be awesome to have a husband as supportive as Michnya’s Roger, but it’s boring in theater.  At one point, Gloria, in the final stages of her mental illness, makes a play for her sister’s husband. Even though she doesn’t see it happen, Jennifer immediately believes him. She knows it’s a symptom of her illness. It would have been so much more compelling if, even for a few moments, she doubts her husband’s story, and he, in turn, grew furious that she doubted him.

Roger is steady and stalwart. It would have been nice to see a glimpse into his darker side.  Michnya, a fine local actor, has the chops to play a more nuanced character.

All the acting in “Findings” is fine, but this talented group is capable of so much more.  Charles “Stoney” Richards (an actor and radio personality with an arm’s length of credits, who has been in everything from “St. Elsewhere” to “The Outsiders”) is sidelined to playing a few bit characters. For the record, he excels at it.

“Findings” can be commended for shedding light on a real disease and raising awareness. It just needs a little more time in the workshop. Given time, Weiner and director Lisa Ann Goldsmith could bring a relevant, powerful piece to the theater. It just wasn’t there yet.

It should be mentioned that Pittsburgh Playwrights spotlights playwrights from Pittsburgh and that is a laudable endeavor as well.  If you buy locally-sourced fruits and veggies, you should try locally-sourced theater. The play is about helping each other. That’s what Pittsburgh does best. Giving Weiner a chance to hear her words spoken by real actors, will help her polish “Findings” into a diamond.

“Findings” runs till March 19^th at the Pittsburgh Playwrights Theatre Company, 937 Liberty Avenue, Pittsburgh, PA 15222. For more information, click here.