A review of Walking the Wire: Classified

by Andrew R. Juhl

Iowa City - Riverside Theatre's Walking the Wire is one annual highlight of the local theatre scene, and for good reason. The performances are often fantastic, the writing is often fresh and multifaceted, and the roiling complements of comedy and tragedy provide a routinely enjoyable evening for audiences of this amaranthine platform.

As in years past, some familiar faces bring great performances to the event, even to the few underwhelming included monologues. And as in years past, the monologues with the most resonance and impact were those performed by their writers. Director Jody Hovland must have realized this to some degree, as she placed a writer-performer at both the beginning and end of the evening. Specifically, she placed the two most baldly autobiographical pieces of the evening (Chris Okiishi’s “Bully for You” and Janet Schlapkohl’s “Valentine Bunnies”) as those bookends, and I applaud this subtle, warranted use of symmetry. The third writer-performer, Ron Clark, imbues his happily-sad, fictitious story with the seemingly effortless gravitas one has come to nearly take for granted after so many years—but never should.

Snoopy Makes an Admirable Effort

The Cast of Snoopy! The Musical

By Andrew Juhl
Photo By Lily Allen-Duenas

Amana - Snoopy: The Musical is based on the original characters from Charles M. Schulz’s Peanuts comic strip and is the sequel to You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown. Written by Larry Grossman and Hal Hackady, with a book by Warren Lockhart, Arthur Whitelaw, and Michael Grace, Snoopy has become a family favorite in the roughly 40 years since its first production. The musical unfolds with a series of variety-style vignettes that contain short skits (many based on—or taken verbatim from—actual Peanuts comic strips), as well as showcase numbers about the characters appearing in the musical.

It’s is a fun bit of fluff, but I found myself underwhelmed by the evening. Perhaps it’s an unavoidable and unfortunate side-effect of adapting a property originally meant for adults but later appropriated by children into a musical aimed squarely at children who must be taken to it by adults. Some loss in translation seems inevitable, and the bygone style of humor featured in the vignettes helps the issue none.

At points, the show seems little more than a random collection of classic (and not-so-classic) Peanuts gags and tropes (very) loosely couched as a story about Charlie’s would-be-author pooch. With the exception of the introductory song, Snoopy’s big number “The Great Writer,” and a little bit of the finale, the show actually has very little to do with Snoopy outside of the occasional snippy comment from the other characters about human-dog relationships. The musical falls on the side of mean and prurient at several times throughout—rather than indelibly good-natured and generationally transcendent, the way Peanuts is often considered.

Ryan Gaffney shines as an enthusiastic and animated Snoopy, and I especially liked his performance during the number “The Big Bow Wow.” Sara Kenny, as Lucy van Pelt, combines just the right amount of brash annoyance and belying camaraderie the character is known for, while Jillian Kuhl, as Sally Brown, plays little sister with equal parts innocence and joy to a dependable Charlie Brown’s (Jeff Haffner). The remaining actors are acceptable and talented, though nobody in the entire cast is given anything particularly meaty over the course of the show. Elijah Jones, as Woodstock, was delightfully ebullient and appropriately physical—though even he began to falter and look tired by the end of the evening.

Director Sean McCall makes good use of the stage and the talent of his actors, while the Peanuts Band provides skilled, quality renditions of the toe-tapping, if unmemorable, music. In fact, much of the production is technically solid, and the Old Creamery Theatre makes as admirable attempt as any company might when translating this family-targeted material to an older audience of married and/or retired couples.

If you have children, they might enjoy the show; but there were very few children in attendance during the performance I witnessed, and all but the very youngest appeared bored and giggled sparingly. Seemingly, only the smallest among them found the production’s bright colors and big voices to be entertaining, though—let’s be honest—that’s not the hardest crowd to win over.

Snoopy: The Musical continues its run through August 10. Tickets available here.

Hay Fever Is an Ideal Summer Treat

By Andrew Juhl

Cedar Rapids - I’ve always considered Hay Fever to be one of Noël Coward’s best comedies. The play is breezy and ultimately trivial, with one-dimensional, self-indulgent characters. Coward himself once remarked that this play had “no plot at all and remarkably little action,” yet Hay Fever continues—almost 90 years after its original debut—to connect with audiences.

Part of its appeal might lie specifically in its aforementioned triviality and simplicity. The play doesn’t make heavy demands of its audiences. There’s nothing to analyze, there’s no real meaning to be found. It can just be watched and enjoyed, like the best mindless summer entertainment. Another appealing aspect, to be sure, are the hapless shenanigans in which its characters continue to find themselves embroiled, which require a strong ensemble, good chemistry, and anything-but-hapless comedic timing.

The Sunshine Boys Has a Rough Start

By Andrew Juhl
Photo By Lily Allen-Duenas

David Q. Combs and Richard W. Cox

The story of Neil Simon’s 1972 wistful comedy, The Sunshine Boys, revolves around Willie Clark, an aged-out vaudevillian clinging to a mistaken belief in his own skills and continued relevance. Willie’s agent – and nephew – Ben Silverman persists in the Sisyphean task of finding his uncle gainful work in commercials, only to see Willie continue to lose-out on gigs due to his shoddy memory and lack of interest. As such, Willie spends his days disheveled and in front of a television, ruminating on the decade since the sudden end of his 43-year partnership with Al Lewis, the Abbott to his Costello. Predictably, an opportunity comes along for Ben to reunite Al and Willie, but will the Sunshine Boys be able to overcome their mutual enmity and reconcile, or will they remain foes?

Becky's New Car Spins Its Wheels

By Andrew Juhl
Photo By Elisabeth Ross

Carole Martin

Iowa City - Becky works hard, and liking her comes easy. In Act 1, anyway. In Act 2… no so much. She’s a woman with a good life that she doesn’t fully appreciate. She’s overly stressed and exasperated, but once she relaxes and begins to enjoy herself, life opens up for her, drops possibilities into her lap, and complicates her relationships to degrees she would have never imagined before loosening her safety belts.

Steven Dietz, the show’s writer, instructs the character of Becky to speak directly to the audience, a routine breaking of the fourth wall that could be either obnoxious or enjoyable, depending on the actress. Luckily for Dreamwell's production, Carole Martin (Becky) is a fantastically pleasant and identifiable confederate with which the audience is allowed to interact. Her stress is palpable, as are her concerns, consternations, and vacillations.

Ring of Fire Burns Bright

By Andrew Juhl
Photo By Lily-Allen Duenas

The cast of Ring of Fire

Amana - Thanks to the fact that my USB drive ate my original review before I was able to submit it, this is the second time I’ve had to write this. That’s oddly fitting, actually, as it made me reconsider a musical that reconsiders the life and songs of Johnny Cash.

I’ve been a fan of Cash for decades. I’m also a fan of trivia, and Cash’s life and songs are a gold mine of fun facts, tidbits, and anecdotes that have served me well during pub quizzes more than a handful of times. There exists an inarguable poetry in Cash’s austere lyrics. The simple sophistication and bluntness of Cash’s lyrics belie their elegant profundity; their simplicity should lead to their dismissal, but their meaning stays with you long after the tunes' reverberations have faded.

Get "Relief" From the Winter Blues at Urinetown

By Andrew Juhl

Coralville - This is not a happy musical, indeed. Sure, City Circle’s production of Urinetown: The Musical contains its share of laughs and jocularity, but it’s also tinged with piss and vinegar—so, okay, mostly piss.

Urinetown is a 2002 multi-Tony Award winner from Mark Hollmann & Greg Kotis. Occasionally (and ultimately) tarrying into seriousness, the musical is also replete with puns, guffawish humor, and outright silliness. As an extra treat for the musical lovers in the crowd, the songs shift in tone from scene to scenes, providing pastiches to straight-up parodies of other great Broadway shows, such as Les Miserables, Fiddler on the Roof, Sweet Charity, and Big River, among others.

Energetic Frog and Toad Cast Delivers

by Andrew Juhl

Mount Vernon - A Year With Frog and Toad is a delightful family musical that can easily fall flat at the community theatre level. Not so much a linear story as a series of rolling set pieces, the musical requires a cast of energetic performers and a creative production staff. Thankfully, the Mount Vernon-Lisbon Community Theatre has both.

More than any other thing, what sells MVLCT’s production this show is the enthusiasm of its cast. You can tell they’re having a great time, and their enjoyment is infectious.

And though the dialogue, songs, and morals are designed for children to consume and understand, the show is no less enjoyable for adults. There exists enough clever wordplay and you’ll-get-it-when-you’re-older themes (not jokes, but themes) that the adults in the audience often end up laughing harder, louder, and longer than the children.

A true ensemble piece if ever there was such a thing, no one actor or actress deserves to be singled out above the rest. Each and every performer brought something unique and wonderful to the evening. From Randy Dotson’s terribly large performance as a “Large & Terrible Frog” to Mary Morgan-Blacharski’s unerringly upbeat “Mouse” to Braden Rood’s hilariously exuberant “Snail” to Traci Rezabek’s unexpectedly touching “Young Frog” to … well, pretty much everything Kim Benesh did. And, of course, there was Frog (Steve Rezabek) and Toad (Jay Gunn), who were fun and charming throughout.

Directors Laura Werkman and Damon Cole did a fabulous job bringing this warm, pleasant comedy about friendship and life to the stage. If you have children—and even if you don’t—seeing MVLCT’s production of A Year With Frog and Toad this weekend will not be a waste of your time or money. Two more performances remaining - tonight at 7:00 pm and tomorrow at 2:00 pm. For information, go here.

Kitchen Witches Charms the Audience

by Andrew Juhl

Amana - The Kitchen Witches revolves around Dolly Biddle and Isabelle Lomax, rival cable-access cooking show hostesses who’ve hated each other for over 30 years, ever since Larry Biddle dated Isabelle... but married Dolly. After an unpleasant confrontation puts them together in front of a live audience, however, the network decides to give them their own combined cooking show called “The Kitchen Witches.” Dolly's long-suffering TV producer and son, Stephen Biddle, does everything he can to keep the dueling twosome on track, but it proves to be an exercise in futility as the Dolly and Isabelle continue to whip up more insults (and ratings) than they do recipes.

Caroline Smith’s The Kitchen Witches is also a bit frustrating. The winner of the 2005 Samuel French Canadian Play Contest, the play itself has an interesting premise that doesn’t always live up to its promise—but nevertheless keeps the audience aroused and engaged throughout.

As expected, Meg Merckens, a co-founder of the Iowa Theatre Artists Company, turns in yet another stellar performance, this time as Isabelle. The weightier role of the two female leads, Merckens does great character work in this play, adding slight and subtle flourishes that round-out what, in the hands of a less-experienced actress, could easily be a two-dimensional role.

Accomplished vocalist Lynne Rothrock is enjoyable as Dolly. I wasn’t so sure I would be able to tolerate Dolly’s alter ego “Babcha” for an entire play, but thankfully her moose-and-squirrel Russian accent goes the way of the dodo very early. Rothrock’s unhurried, stentorian delivery betrays her obvious comfortableness on the stage, and her voluptuous figure visually offsets Merckens’ Isabelle, allowing for the exchange of some truly great invectives.

In the third of the three major roles, Eddie Skaggs performs serviceably as Stephen Biddle. Despite the plot, on which Stephen’s character is integral, the actual role is underwritten compared to the two females, and therefore not nearly as memorable. Had Skaggs overplayed it, it would have been annoying. As-is, he plays it mostly straight; a good personal and directorial choice, and the play was much better for it.

Despite the award-winning script, however, there are some basic problems with the actual play that I’m not entirely sure could have been overcome by the actresses. There some truly great jibes, as well as the inevitable food fight, but the combined physical and written comedy never pulls the play above the plains of forced laughter and into realm of genuine, organic comedy. Additionally and unfortunately, I easily recognized that more than a soupcon of the jokes in this play—culinary or otherwise—were entirely unoriginal. One particularly grating offense came in the form of a dozens-style “yo-mamma” joke that wasn’t even novel when I first heard Jamie Foxx tell it on In Living Color during the early 90s.

Overall though, I would highly endorse viewing this production. Director Thomas P. Johnson and his company do a fantastic job of incorporating and charming the audience, and the ITAC venue is, as ever, a cozy and intimate theatre. The show continues through November 6th.

Only Drunks... makes you think, question and reflect

by Andrew Juhl

Anamosa - There’s a reason I haven’t watched Million Dollar Baby yet, despite the fact that I’ve owned the DVD for several years. I know the story will depress me, and I have to be in the mood to see a story that I know will depress me. Sure, it probably has some funny and happy moments—even the saddest of movies usually do—but I’m just not in the mindset where I want to be depressed all that often.

A depressing chapter in Canadian history provides the fodder Canadian playwright Drew Hayden Taylor’s Only Drunks and Children Tell the Truth. Generations of aboriginal Canadians were devastated by their government’s attempts to “assimilate” the native children into mainstream Canadian culture, most often by placing them with white families and in residential schools. As a result, languages and cultures have been lost, some never to be recovered, as thousands of children were taken from their families. Taylor, himself part Ojibway (the same culture at the heart of this play, in itself a sequel to Someday), attempts to use a little bit of laughter as medicine to heal some of those emotional wounds. But a little bit of laughter in this production is a little bit too little, I’m afraid.

Only Drunks and Children Tell the Truth is chiefly concerned with the story of Janice (Mary Vizecky), who was raised by a white family after being removed from the reservation where she was born. Now a successful lawyer in Toronto, Janice—still called ‘Grace’ by her birth family—is unexpectedly visited by her sister (Carolann Beaulne), her sister's fiancée (Alex Smalley), and a friend (Basilio Light) with news that Janice’s birth mother has died. As the three visitors attempt to persuade Janice to fulfill tradition and to return to their reservation to pay her respects, Janice is forced to reflect on questions about her identity and the nature of family.

Actress Carolann Beualne (Barb, the main character’s sister) shifted repeatedly between maintaining an awkward tension and guilting Janice beyond measure. While she was enjoyable to watch at times, her character wears on the audience well before intermission, due in no small part to her endless capacity to putatively foist guilt on her sister. “Yes. We get it. You think your sister is a bitch for not coming home,” says the audience in a collective sigh after the issue comes up for the umpteenth time in the first act.

Alex Smalley’s portrayal of Rodney, Barb’s fiancée, was enjoyable, thought perhaps played a little too cartoonishly. Rodney has the bulk of the jokes-written-to-be-obvious-jokes in the play, and Smalley could definitely relax a little and let the writing shoulder more of the effort.

Basilio Light (Tonto) plays his yeoman-like character with a natural ease. Far-too-intelligent by half, Tonto is the emotional anchor and continuous voice of reason in the play; and while Light nailed his delivery of several steely (if wizened) platitudes, that same Yoda-esque delivery perfused the vast majority of the rest of his lines, lending a repeated, inorganic quality to what should have been ordinary conversations.

Mary Vizecky turns in a serviceable Janice/Grace, but her performance somewhat suffers from what I like to call “the 75-cent syndrome.” When she’s angry about something, she seems roughly three-quarters as angry as she should be. Three-quarters as surprised, three-quarters as amused, three-quarters as sad, three-quarters as interesting as her character could have been. Even as Vizecky delivers the bulk of the last and perhaps most moving scene of the play, I couldn’t help but think to myself, “Quit it. Quit holding back. Let us have it. Quit worrying about the next line and just let us see the character—not you trying to remember the character.”

Director Rick Sanborn keeps the play to a tight two hours (with intermission) and the spartan stage, props, and costuming are all done well. It’s a powerful play: one that will make you think, one that will make you the question policies and actions of whatever Big Brother, one that will make you reflect on the nature of family, and—yes, occasionally—one that will make you laugh a little. If you’re in the mood for it, Only Drunks and Children Tell the Truth is a good evening at a small-town community theatre.

And if you’re not in the mood for it, there are several bars within short walking distance of the marquee.

Incredible Cast of Young Actors in TCR's 13

by Andrew Juhl

Cedar Rapids - At several points in the evening I thought, “Wow, that’s a bit salacious to be coming out the mouth of a 12-year-old.” But, in truth, no—it wasn’t. It was just jarring to hear tweens talk the way you know they probably talk when there aren’t any adults around. That true-to-life dialogue and interaction (at the heart of obviously contrived plot mechanics requisite in every musical) make 13 enjoyable and identifiable to a wide range of audience members. Also helping: it’s a truly funny story.

The musical concerns a boy, Evan Goldman, who has a perfect and popular 12-year-old existence in New York City… until his parents get divorced and he is forced to move to a small town in rural Indiana. Now the new kid in town, about to turn 13 and celebrate his Bar Mitzvah, all he wants is to be a part of the popular clique again, no matter what it takes to do so. What follows is a funny, fantastical, familiar and fully ineffable evening of musical comedy.

Bentlee Birchansky handles himself admirably as the lead ‘Evan Goldman.’ (I want to give him special props for totally nailing his (albeit small section of the) haphtarah.) And young actress Kennedy Wilson positively shines as his new best friend and obvious will-be love interest, ‘Patrice.’ Wilson’s voice is powerful yet quaint, blending shyness and probity in perfect amounts for the role.

Harry Daubitz, as jerk-jock ‘Brett’ turns in a good performance, hitting the laugh button and the douche button at the just right times. You never really like him, but you also never really dislike him until the point where the musical expressly wants you to; it’s an estimable subtlety that Daubitz brings, allowing the audience to resolve, along with Evan Goldman, just how pointless this meathead’s approval really is.

Perhaps my favorite performances of the evening, however, came from supporting actors Connor Schulz (‘Archie’) and Nikki Stewart (‘Lucy’). Schulz is positively ebullient as a lovelorn teen suffering from muscular dystrophy; this kid really knows how to work a punchline. Though at times perhaps a little too hammy, Schulz’s character is, to be fair, the one character that can get away with it. And Stewart… wow. Just… wow. ‘Lucy’ is a devious, bitchy little slut, and Stewart plays her to a tee; you can just tell Ms. Stewart is having a great time playing bad, and a similar “Ain’t this fun!?” vibe effuses throughout the cast whenever she’s onstage. Additionally, her back-and-forths with best frenemy ‘Kendra’ (actress Rachel Wirth) were clippy and tight; it was an absolute treat whenever the two interacted.

Additionally, I need to recognize the hilarious contributions of Cole Cooper and Brennan Urbi as the comic duo of “Malcom & Eddie.” These two little tramps were fabulously funny, their movements and hormone-centric harmonies elicited ear-to-ear smiles from this reviewer whenever they were onstage.

Director Casey Prince has pulled together a remarkable show, helped in no small part by the simple, effective choreography of Lovar Davis Kidd. This being TCR, the set design was no-less-than-expected: complex though unobtrusive, detailed though inconspicuous, the maximum effect from a minimalist assembly. And pulling everything together is delectably precise musical accompaniment from the pit, directed by Ryan Deignan.

The one distraction of the evening was several mic cut-outs, crackles, and pops. I rail on these “mistakes” whenever I see them in a production because they always remove me from the show. There were some crackles and pops so loud on opening night that they made the singers onstage noticeably flinch—that’s simply unfortunate and should be addressed as soon as possible.

Overall, however, this is an amazing show. TCR continues its reputation of excellent productions with incredible casts. Please, go and support these young actors and actresses. They’ve definitely worked hard to earn your patronage.

Soldier's Daughter shows Dreamwell's pluck

by Andrew Juhl

Iowa City - I have been sitting here, staring at a blank screen for over 30 minutes. I keep writing and deleting the same sentence: “Dreamwell’s Soldier’s Daughter is an interesting show.” I keep writing the sentence because Dreamwell’s Soldier’s Daughter IS an interesting show. I keep erasing the sentence because it feels like damnation by faint praise. “Interesting,” however, is precisely what this show is.

Soldier’s Daughter is an original tale about a soldier's emotional connection with his 13-year-old daughter, Tigerlily. It opens with Tigerlily waiting for her father to return from his latest deployment in Afghanistan, hoping desperately that this homecoming will be for good. Asleep on the porch of her farmhouse, she wakes to find her father standing before her, ready to take her on a “story walk” around their farm, a tradition the two of them have shared ever since Tigerlily was very young. The overarching narrative progresses and unfolds via the stories Tigerlily hears, and sees, during their walk.

What makes this production so special is that the audience actually walks around the farm with Tigerlily, watching these stories and experiencing the overarching narrative develop against the backdrop of the bucolic midsummer Iowa landscape. Additionally, each “story” in the play was written by a different author, all members of a local playwriting group, the Black Doggers. The concept of a multi-authored piece of “promenade theatre” is both inherently intriguing and not without a conspicuous modicum of potential. I am pleased to report that Dreamwell makes respectable strides toward maximizing that potential in ways throughout the evening.

This was helped in no small part by some good casting for Tigerlily; young actress Makayla Phillips does a fine job of inhabiting the titular role. Although she is distinctly more believable in some scenes than others, this appeared to be more a consequence of the fractured writing style used to create the overall narrative than anything attributable to Ms. Phillips’ abilities. Specifically, Tigerlily is a page out-of-real-life as a popularity-obsessed tween in The Gypsy Story, fully realized and identifiable to anyone who either knows or has been an 8th grade girl. On the flipside, her dialogue seemed forcibly maudlin and redundant—though competently acted—in The Hope/Sarah Story, a scene about an imprisoned fairy and her captors.

Brian Tanner, as the Soldier, guided his daughter between and within scenes with workmanlike aplomb, though the character feels undeniably secondary to the journey, and—as such—both less important and less interesting than might have been intended. This could be a consequence/weakness of the framing story (Tigerlily and Soldier), which seemed to both lack focus and contain needless repetition as well as excessive platitudes. The characters of Tigerlily and Solider could have benefited greatly from a bit more bulk at the beginning and/or finale, whereas currently these two moments—especially the final scene of the evening—feel tossed-off in favor of “Yay, let’s get to the stories!” and “Hooray, we’re done with the stories!”

As far as the stories along the story walk go, an obvious stand-out is author Amy White’s Moose Story. The two moose in this story, actors Mark Nidey and James Anderson, have a wonderful chemistry and laugh-out-loud comic timing, but also the ability to effectively deliver the sobering denouement of the scene. Also very enjoyable were the aforementioned Hope/Sarah Story and the seafaring Tiger/Boy Story—though the latter suffered, in my opinion, from an underwhelming amount of pirates. But, hey, I’m a man who really likes his pirates.

The first two stories of the evening, however, were not-at-all as enthralling or interesting to me as the last four (and specifically the powerful ending trilogy of Moose, Hope/Sarah, and Tiger/Boy). To the point, I wasn’t entirely sure why these initial two stories were even in the play. The first story of the evening is The Aria/Coral Story about two magical sprites. I enjoyed actress K. Lindsay Eaves’ portrayal of ‘Aria’ a great deal; it was a one-note performance, but it was the exact right note, and it allowed Avonique Tipsword (‘Coral’) to play off of Aria very easily. The story is metaphor heavy—a conceit applicable to play in toto—but, more than that, the scene just didn’t seem to matter to Tigerlily’s overall journey. The Aria/Coral Story is immediately followed by perhaps the evening’s shortest scene, the Eros/Psyche Story, which seemed charily out-of-pace with the rest of the show and even contained a couple somewhat jarring anachronisms—though I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that both actors’ performances (Brad Quinn’s ‘Eros’ and Elizabeth Breed’s ‘Psyche’) were pitch-perfect and enjoyable.

Still, neither scene seemed like a story that a father would be telling his daughter, especially if that father was having trouble coming to grips with how his daughter was maturing. Specifically, I would have expected Tigerlily to exhibit more of a “Daaaaa-ad! Ewww!” kind of reaction to Eros/Psyche. (Upon later reflection, it occurred to me that the idea behind these two segments might have been that Tigerlily’s father first told a story that was too young for her, then one that was too old—but if that was the point, it shouldn't have taken me until two hours after the show to realize it.)

There are also three young actresses playing birds throughout the evening, portraying extensions of Tigerlily's emotions. This generally worked for me, but the idea could have used a little more explanation/exposition within the show. I almost wanted the birds to be onstage whenever Tigerlily was, but I can understand how that would be difficult with a trio of such young actors. Perhaps if each one had represented a more specific aspect of Tigerlily’s personality, this storytelling contrivance could have worked better; even as-was, however, these three young actresses brought a smile to my face whenever they came back into the story.

Summarily, Matt Falduto’s overall direction of the evening was apt, the costuming was never outlandish or distracting, and the promenades were never poorly spaced, nor did they seem inappropriately long distances to travel. The show ended as the last bits of sun were quickly fleeing the evening into night, and with 7+ stories performed, one would be hard-pressed to argue they didn’t get their money’s worth from the price of their ticket.

Contrary to my normal track, I tried NOT to read too much about this show beforehand, as I wanted to be as surprised as possible by the evening. Only after the show was over did I go back and peruse the newspaper articles my friends sent me, as well as some of the posts on this very blog. This may be a play that's best enjoyed when one has a sense of how much effort, collaboration, and passion were required for its genesis, and it simply may not be as gratifying or make as much sense to an audience without that additional knowledge. Regardless of that assessment, I would encourage anyone with a sincere interest in theatre to come see this production. Dreamwell has a reputation for producing exhilarating shows that merit observation based solely on the company’s dedication and pluck, and Soldier’s Daughter falls well in-line with that tradition.

Man of la Mancha is enjoyable

by Andrew Juhl

Washington - Man of La Mancha is a musical inspired by Miguel de Cervantes’ 17th century masterpiece Don Quixote. A play within a play, Cervantes and his fellow prisoners perform the story of the “mad” knight Don Quixote as they collectively await hearings under the Spanish Inquisition.

Washington Community Theatre is performing the musical at the Washington Community Center, which possesses a comfortable, somewhat large permanent theatre for a smaller town of roughly 7,000. Even though WCT normally stages only three productions each year, the community theatre members are a rabidly enthusiastic group, as-one committed to putting-out strong shows and who know how to use their stage and auditorium like a master carpenter knows how to use his tools. This especially goes for the tech crew, who exhibited slyly proficient lighting and sound design. Jeff Crone, the lighting designer, should especially be commended for adding nuance throughout the show.

The onstage presences are unassumingly talented, as well. Mike Jewell belts out an impressive version of the Broadway standard “The Impossible Dream” as well as competently portrays Don Quixote with the requisite bumbling lunacy. He is less interesting as Cervantes, but then again almost all Don Quixotes are. Rebekah Trotter’s fantastic voice lends needed solemnity to the character of Aldonza, Quixote’s love interest—though that downtrodden tone was also present throughout the happier scenes, making the character some measure more pitiful than necessary. Additionally of note are Beth McBride (“Housekeeper”) and Mackenzie Roth (“Antonia”), who-with Brian Langer (“Padre”)-provided a wonderful rendition of “I’m Only Thinking of Him.” I remember seeing Man of La Mancha as a high school junior and finding that song simply insufferable; this trio, however, shows just how beautifully constructed the music and lyrics really are.

Don Hughes pulls the entire show together with skilled direction, both on the stage and as the orchestra pit conductor. He and vocal director Beth McBride have expertly collaborated; rarely does his 17-piece pit get in the way of the singer on stage. Though a few songs were still somewhat loose during my preview, I have faith that Hughes and McBride are aware of these soft spots and will be focusing on them prior to Thursday’s opening night performance.

I was worried that the entire production would have a “Hey, gang, let’s put on a show!” vibe to it, but the dedication and enthusiasm of the cast and crew turn in a community-produced musical that is enjoyably dependable. Overall, I would definitely endorse the short drive to Washington to see WCT’s Man of La Mancha this weekend.

G.I. Jukebox croons and warbles in Amana

by Andrew Juhl

Amana - The Old Creamery Theatre’s current musical revue, G.I. Jukebox, mimics four performers entertaining troops during the height of World War II at a smaller U.S.O.-style venue. Era-appropriate tunes and medleys are crooned, warbled, or lilted, supported by a three-(sometimes four)-piece jazz ensemble.

I am slightly hesitant to further denigrate my already (likely) low reputation in the minds of this blog’s persistent readers, but I must cop the following: all-but-a-handful of songs in this revue don’t already reside in my iPod. So I was at my toe-tapping happiest on Friday night, sipping a reasonably-priced Blue Moon in the air-conditioned and welcoming Old Creamery Theatre, and for this 29-year-old, ‘twas a great way to spend a few hours.

Unfortunately, I hazard to say I am the exception rather than the rule. Though the show is an obvious draw for the Old Creamery’s typical, elderly-skewed audience, it’s a notably harder sell for those not yet at least quinquagenerians. (Yes, that’s right: “quinquagenerians.” I’ve been playing a lot of Scrabble lately.) While the four principals are all skilled singers, decent dancers, and beautiful harmonizers, they are little more than talking set pieces in the context of the overall show. They are nonentities, characters without character or arc, existing solely as a means of conveying the next medley to the stage. While this is all well-and-good (even expected) in a standard musical revue, it actually hurts a niche show like G.I. Jukebox, doing very little to interest theatregoers who have no emotional memories (or, in many cases, even a base recollection) of the playful ditties and poignant ballads on display. Proof of this came via a few quick looks through the audience during the show and noting that the handful of teens and preteens in the audience were either asleep or—nope, they were all asleep. Even the lone non-sung comedy sketch wasn’t enough to pull their interests.

Perhaps this is a consequence of the relative disconnect our nation’s youth feel from war. Maybe the routine of constant and concurrent wars, the daily news updates of three more dead soldiers… five more… two more… has made the interpretations of “war” and “war effort” in Gen X, Y, and Z fundamentally incomparable to those of the Greatest Generation, Depression-era children, and the Boomers. “War” has now, more than ever, become an abstract notion, an elective inconvenience, far too often measured in the cost of currency instead of in lives—its warrants not simply debatable, but belligerently contested. Gone is the visceral, life-changing connection of watching returning troops—victorious or on respite—for we know far-too-well how soon they’ll be leaving again. Viewed in this light, is it any wonder the youth in the audience didn’t seem interested in the music, in the lyrical messages, in the original cause of the U.S.O.?

Or maybe there just weren’t enough whipped-cream-shooting brassieres. Who knows?

That being said, if you have an affinity for the type of music sung at U.S.O shows during the WWII era, songs such as “Moonlight Serenade,” “I’ll Be Seeing You,” “Mairzy Doats,” and “In the Mood,” this is a show worth seeing. Old Creamery staple Tom Milligan does a great job of directing a Spartan a stage, but equal kudos should go to Deborah Kennedy for injecting consistently simple-but-fun choreography throughout the show. Kennedy also sits-in with the band for a few numbers, but never overshadows the contributions of fellow principals Sean McCall, T.J. Besler, and Kamille Zbanek. The entire foursome maintains the smiles and enthusiasm you’d expect from a real Hope, Benny, or Bacall.

G. I. Jukebox runs through July 3 and is rated Theatre G. Tickets are $27 for adults and $17.50 for students. Show times are Wednesday, Thursdays and Sundays at 3 p.m. and Fridays and Saturdays at 7:30 p.m. Call the box office at 800-35-AMANA or visit the website at www.oldcreamery.com for more information or to purchase tickets.

Drowsy is a Can't Miss Show

by Andrew Juhl

Iowa City - This review is going to be short and sweet: go see The Drowsy Chaperone. Go online, and get your tickets now if you can; don’t trust that there will be seats available if you just show up, because once word gets out about how good this show is, there very well might not be.

No, I’m not even going to bother with a summary of the premise. You don’t know what it’s about? You don’t need to. It’s funny, and it’s well done by ICCT. If you really care so much, look it up elsewhere, but I can guarantee you right here and now that if you like theatre, musicals, comedy, dancing, singing, laughing OR getting a good deal for your money, then you will like this show. I cannot recommend it highly enough. Of all local community theatre productions I’ve been to in the last few years, this production ranks as one my absolute favorites.

Literally everyone in the cast, from the major players to the ensemble, does a fantastic job. Actors CJ Jones and Adam Kopfman deserve resounding applause for their song “Cold Feets,” of which I wish not to discuss further for fear of ruining the surprise for first-timers. And a tip-of-the-hat to Rob Keech (“Adolpho”) is also warranted. Keech is an absolute scene-stealer, and the one character in the show where every audience member will perk up in their seats with delight the second he rejoins the stage.

I absolutely have to single out Dustin Sorrell, however, who does an amazing job as the narrator/main character of the show. Mr. Sorrell’s timing and delivery were impeccable, and if you’re anything like me, by the end of the show you’ll want nothing less than to take his swishy fop-top awesomeness home with you for leftovers in the morning.

This production also contains the single best lighting design and sound effects I have seen in any ICCT production I have ever attended. The set is also impressively designed—one of the most complex and sophisticated I have witnessed in a community theatre production. There will be times where you’ll see someone make an entrance and marvel at the ingenuity of the design.

The one low point of opening night was the numerous mic problems experienced by the cast and crew. The hot mics, feedback, and cut-off voices really took me out of the show. I have faith that ICCT and the cast and crew will be spending some extra time for the coming shows working on this singular problem with the production.

Director and Music Director Ben Bentler should be proud. Choreographer Jill Beardsley should be, as well. They have done a wonderful, stunning job with this show. I can only assume it was a labor of love, and that hard work definitely shows.

The Drowsy Chaperone runs through the 8th, with Thursday, Friday and Saturday night shows at 7:30, Sunday matinees at 2:00. Do yourself, your community theatre volunteers, and your diaphragm a good turn: go and see it.

Present Laughter has Solid Laughs

by Andrew Juhl

Coralville - Noël Coward’s semi-autobiographical sub-farce Present Laughter is a tricky piece. One of the great things about all-out farces and jokey-joke comedies is that even novice casts can stage them and get an adequate number of laughs from the audience. Present Laughter requires a defter, more subtle delivery from all its players in order to achieve the same level of applause.

There were definitely some good performances on opening night, but unfortunately the show overall fell somewhat short of its potential.

The plot follows a few days in the life of the successful and self-obsessed light comedy actor Garry Essendine as he prepares to travel for a touring commitment in Africa. He finds himself dealing with women who want to seduce him, placating both his long-suffering secretary and his estranged wife, being stalked by a crazed young playwright, and working through his own obsession with oncoming middle age.

David Q. Combs, starring as “Garry Essendine” (a role written by Coward unabashedly for Coward), turns in the best-understood performance of the ensemble—which is to be expected, as he is the lone professional actor in the cast.

His competence in the role, however, does not make the character of Essendine any more likable. For that, the whole of the supporting cast would have needed to better understand and portray their character’s connections and pasts. Essendine is a narcissistic and self-righteous jackass, surrounded alternatingly by obnoxious sycophants, malcontented employees, and friends who can barely stand him—none of whom are any more likable than Essendine, to be frank. Cheating wives, lying ingénues, and deceitful young playwrights do not a caring audience member make without the actors giving those characters some dimension. If I don’t like or care about the characters, then it doesn’t matter how good the words on the page are; those witty retorts won’t elicit the reaction “good one!” so much as they’ll provoke the response “what a bunch of horrible asses.”

That’s not to say there’s nothing redeemable about the show. Beyond Combs, who delivers his character’s more powerful scenes with aplomb, there are other cast members who deserve special note. Adam Burton (“Roland Maule”) steals his scenes with bushy-tailed enthusiasm, and Doreen Loring (“Liz Essendine”) says her lines with a calm, steely detachment that sets her apart from everyone else on stage as someone not to be trifled with. I enjoyed Jessica Murillo’s (“Joanna Lyppiatt”) performance, without particularly enjoying anything she did or said. Paradoxical, I know. But go see it and you might agree with me.

Director Rachel Lindhart makes good use of the small stage in the Children’s Museum, and moves the character’s around constantly, keeping the action and the dialogue from getting sleepy. The set is also well-designed to make good use of such a small space, containing several entrances and exits without being cluttered. (Self-aware pretentious note to the prop masters, though: nobody who keeps their sherry and scotch in stoppered crystal at a bar station displays a bottle Johnny Walker Black Label alongside a bottle of Passport Scotch. That’s like hanging a Thomas Kinkade print right next to your authentic Edward Hopper.)

I can’t like every play I see, but I can find things I like about every play I see. There were more than a handful of solid laughs, as well as some truly good performances within the cast. This is the last show in City Circle’s current season, and will be their last show in the Children’s Museum space, so consider attending Present Laughter to help support City Circle as they move into their next season and their new home.

Sweeney Todd is Amazing

by Andrew Juhl

Cedar Rapids - There’s an incredibly obvious way to endorse Theatre Cedar Rapids’ staging of Sweeny Todd. And I’ll get to it. Later. For right now, I’ll just say this: You had better not miss this production without a darn good reason.

First, the boilerplate description: Stephen Sondheim’s daring musical, Sweeney Todd, is the tale of a skillful barber, wrongfully imprisoned by the malicious Judge Turpin due to the judge’s envy of the barber’s beautiful wife. Escaped and looking to recapture his former love, Sweeney Todd returns to London after fifteen years, only to discover that his former life is all-but-gone, save for the sad remnants of a cloistered daughter, his old razors, and a failing pie shop, owned by indefatigable Mrs. Lovett, which still stands below the skeletal remains of his once great barbershop.

Simply put, I was amazed by TCR’s production at several points in the evening. This is not a show most community theatres could pull off, let alone pull off this well. I daresay few like-sized professional theatres in this country would have done this fine of a job. Every detail, from the costuming to the makeup to the stage to the dispensary of Todd’s victims was a cut above. (Rimshot.)

This is one of those reviews that could go on for a while, but I will do my best to be efficiently effusive.

My first praise goes to actors, and the first of that goes to the Ensemble, who was seemingly always everywhere, yet somehow never in the way. To be that supportive of the main cast while never upstaging them is a honorable accomplishment. Young Lincoln Ginsberg (‘Tobias’) performs amazingly for an actor of so few years, ringing a realistic depth and believability in a character that—in lesser productions—could have been an annoying thorn in the audience’s paw. Special notice goes to Michael Cervantes (‘Judge Turpin’), who does a purely wonderful rendition of “Johanna,” an extremely important (and difficult) exposition song. Daniel Kelchen, playing the titular Sweeney Todd, deftly maneuvers between scenes calling for booming rage, thoughtful consternation, and abject hopelessness. (Booming rage was my favorite; when Sweeney is angry about something, the audience damned-well knows it.)

As good as Kelchen is, however, TCR newcomer Piper Pack-Smith (Mrs. Lovett) steals the show with her remorseless buoyancy and pinpoint comic timing. There are precious few moments for levity in Sweeney Todd, and all of them are appreciated; thankfully, Pack-Smith and Kelchen make the most of these opportunities, helping turn what could have been a merely good night at the theatre into a great one.

Into the bargain of great acting and singing, shout-outs go to lighting designer Derek Easton, who nailed the mood of the every scene without fault, and also the multiple sound designers, whose additions to the night cannot be understated. (Sidenote: whoever decided to add an echo effect to the word ‘grave’ in ‘Epiphany,’ bravo.) There were some noticeable sound issues and drowned-out lyrics during the opening night’s performances, but I have faith that those balancing issues will be corrected by the second weekend’s shows. Additionally, TCR needs to be commended for their incredible set design (designer: Bret Gothe). Possessed as I am with the ability to describe it, I choose not to; do yourself the favor of seeing it in person. No, I don’t care if that’s a cop-out. Do it. Because I said so, that’s why. And finish your vegetables.

I would be remiss without also mentioning the wonderful musical accompaniment of music director Janelle Lauer’s small, curiously strong orchestra. Combined with Leslie Charipar’s skillful overall direction, the music of Sweeney Todd helps coalesce the many pieces of this complex and intricate showcase into a night of pure musical theatre that really comes alive.

Okay. I’ve now held it back as long as I could. Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd.

(Photos by Alisabeth Photography.)

And Then There Were None entertains

by Andrew Juhl

Iowa City - “The show must go on.”

Ouch. What a cliché way to begin a community theatre review. I ought to apologize for my hack-hackity-hackness right now. Trouble is, I think in this case “the show must go on” is about as apropos as I’ve ever witnessed. The rehearsal schedule for ICCT’s And Then There Were None suffered from sprained limbs, strep throat, pneumonia, a hefty blizzard, a collapsed roof, and more. Yet, while many community-based troupes would have thrown up their hands and walked away from the production, this group of dedicated actors stuck it out, pitched in, and put it on.

And after witnessing a somewhat shaky preview of the show, I am glad they did.

Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None is a well-crafted piece of writing, even amongst Christie’s own oeuvre. Ten characters, strangers to another save for a married couple, are invited to an island resort. After a round of somewhat callow introductions, the group prepares for supper — excuse me, dinner — only to be surprised by a recorded voice accusing each partygoer of a specific heinous crime. It becomes readily apparent that not only have they been marooned on the isolated island, but that a murderer stalks amongst them, planning to kill them all according to the outline of the poem “Ten Little Solider Boys.”

The plot, while seemingly far-fetched, holds steadfast in the wake of direct scrutiny, a testament to the meticulous plotting skills of its authoress. The characters’ motives for sojourning at a queer, unknown location are passably explained, as are the tales behind their aforementioned accusations. Additionally, the setting of an island cutoff from communication is one that has aged exceedingly well since its 1930s creation.

ICCT’s And Then There Were None cast is, perhaps, the most age-appropriate cast I have ever seen for the play. Sometimes done in high schools or smaller communities, the actors have to stretch their years through costume, makeup, and voice; the ensemble in the current production is believable on their own merits. There are a few standouts, though. Richard Paulus performs fantastically as ‘General MacKenzie,’ bringing credible gravitas to the role of a shameful old vet that few younger actors could muster. Caroline Oster’s portrayal of ‘Emily Brent’ was similarly on-mark, proffering a perfect example of the ruthlessly religious, self-righteous, and judgmental older woman. Matthew Falduto (‘Captain Lombard’) and Tracy Schoenle (‘Vera Claythorne’) carry two of the show’s larger roles with aplomb, and a special nod goes to James Anderson (‘Anthony Marston’) for conveying exceptional sliminess in what is a smaller but important role.

Director Patti Mott has obvious experience with the story. Early scenes contain several dozen entrances and exits, though none noticeably infringe any others, and even when the entire 10-person ensemble is on stage, it doesn’t feel crowded or over-busy. I also applaud the decision to not have the cast attempt English accents. I’ve seen this done with an English-set play before, and it can be painful. It takes nothing away from the performance or the story to hear these lines delivered in the hearty cadences of lifelong Midwesterners.

Night-before-opening, there were still a few handfuls of dropped or trampled lines of dialogue, but no one instance that would derail an actual show. Besides, this is why dress rehearsals exist, no? My measure of the cast is that they are an exceptionally committed group of actors, and whatever shortcomings appeared last night will be rectified come this evening.

My primary criticism coming away from the preview was that several characters lacked any true sense of urgency throughout their performances. People were dying around them, and they could—would—be next, yet several seemed not only okay with that fact, but almost bored by it. I have to say, if the guy on the stage doesn’t care that he’s about to be drowned, I’m not going to be all that concerned about it, either. Again, though, I have hopes that a jolt of opening night adrenaline will inject some much-needed energy into these performances.

Either way, Christie’s original story should keep you entertained, especially if you’ve never seen it before. I was lucky enough to have a 9-year-old along with me for the review, and she — a little girl who can barely sit through an episode of over-stimulating Disney Channel tripe before getting bored - sat motionless and riveted throughout the entire final act. Well done, Agatha and ICCT. Well done, indeed.

ICCT’s And Then There Were None is running this weekend only (Feb. 11-13); the Friday and Saturday shows are 7:30pm, and there is Sunday matinee at 2:00pm.

'Woolf' is a wonderfully intimate theatrical experience

by Andrew Juhl

Old Creamery - The Old Creamery Theatre’s Studio Stage is a small space. I dare say it’s tiny, even, relatively speaking. There are times during Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf where the characters are sitting almost literally amongst the audience—and necessarily so, considering the austerity of the set. It is precisely this familiarity, this intimacy that makes seeing shows at the Studio Stage such a pleasure. Every member of the audience is but a few arms’ lengths away from the actors, making it a fuller, more real experience than to which some might be accustomed.

With Woolf’s running time clocking in at just a shade over three hours, apprehensive theatergoers might be wary of making such a commitment. I, however, found that the only time I was checking my watch was during the two intermissions, wondering how much longer before the theatrics would resume. resume. I love this play, probably playwright Edward Allbee’s greatest, and the closeness of the space combined with the dedication of the cast makes the reviewed production the best I’ve ever seen live.

For those unfamiliar with the play, the action centers around George, a middle-aged associate professor of history at a small northeastern college, whose undistinguished career is an immense disappointment to his slightly older wife, Martha, the daughter of the college’s president. At the beginning of the play, George and Martha are returning home from a faculty party, and although it’s
already after 2 in the morning, a new faculty member (Nick) and his wife (Honey) are coming over for drinks. But hospitality turns into hostility as George and Martha trade barbs in continually hurtful mind games. At first, guests Nick and Honey don’t know how to react to the emotional eruptions and unbridled animosity of their hosts. After a few drinks, however…

Stars Tom Milligan and Marquetta Senters perform ‘George’ and ‘Martha’ with enviable skill. Both actors reveal an obvious reverence for the material, along with a dogged unwillingness to let it down. Milligan’s delivery of the play’s few sprinkled bits of humor is—like his overall timing—nearly impeccable. And although I was initially doubtful as to whether Senters, an actress whose look I would not normally expect to be seen cast as Martha, could carry-off the sensuality and seduction required of
the role, I couldn’t have been more wrong. Milligan’s ‘George’ and Senters’ ‘Martha’ go from loving to hateful to deceitful and back again numerous times, making many stops along the way, and all of them believable, well-choreographed, and tight-spoken.

David Tull and Jackie McCall could have easily been overshadowed in this production, as I’ve seen more than a few pair of ‘Nick’ and ‘Honeys’ be in the past. This pair, however, turn in beautifully restrained performances, turning the four actors into what is truly an ensemble cast.

If you love a good, well-acted, well-staged piece of American-made drama, do yourself a favor, get to the Old Creamery Theatre Studio Stage in Middle Amana before October 17th, and see this production. You’ll be so glad you did.

Extraordinary Performances Dominate Tuna

by Andrew Juhl

Old Creamery - I don’t know what it is about the Old Creamery Theatre that I like so much. Maybe it’s the friendly feeling you get when you go to one of their shows, like you’re an old friend, returning home, who they’re glad to see again. Maybe it’s the stellar record of their productions never falling flat. Or maybe it’s simply just that it’s so damn obvious how much they really care about what they put on the stage. Whatever it is, it’s an absolute privilege to continue to be invited to review their performances, with their current run of Red, White & Tuna being no exception.

If you’re unfamiliar with the Tuna series, then a little background: Red, White & Tuna is the third in what is *currently* a quadrology of comedic plays written by Jaston Williams, Joe Sears, and Ed Howard. It follows Greater Tuna and A Tuna Christmas, and it precedes the currently touring Tuna Does Vegas. All four plays are set in the fictional town of Tuna, Texas (the "third-smallest" town in the state), and are noteworthy by dint that two men—originally Williams and Sears—comprise the entire cast of over two dozen characters of varying ages and genders.

In the Old Creamery’s production—running at their Studio Stage in Middle Amana until September 5th—T.J. Besler and Sean McCall inhabit the cavalcade of ridiculous personas first created by Williams and Sears. I can honestly write, without compunction, that both actors turn in extraordinary performances.

I cannot and would not single out one of their performances over the other, as to do so would insult both, as well as their fantastically developed chemistry and timing. Seeing the opening day performance, I noticed a few stammered lines, but absolutely nothing unforgivable or that takes a viewer out of the moment. It is obvious that both actors have great respect for the source material, and their passion to properly display Tuna’s richness of intricacies is similarly evident. The costume changes were fluid and unobtrusive, and characters were well-defined and did not overlap. Not once in the entire show did I say to myself, well that’s just the same voice and same walk in a different outfit.

Speaking outfits, I have to give credit to the costuming team for their excellent contribution to the show. Not only were they able to design outfits that could be quickly and quietly exchanged, but every single outfit had a touch of comic believability to it that invoked the sincere reaction, “Yeah, that’s exactly what I would expect that character to wear.” The costumes not only complimented, but helped to actually define these characters better than most local productions I can recall attending over the last few years. Not an easy feat when said clothing also has to be stripped off and put on in less than 10 seconds.

The direction and sound are workmanlike in their effectiveness, and though the Studio Stage allows for somewhat limited lighting and stage possibilities, this isn’t so much a detriment to the production as it is an excuse to focus on the exemplary performances of Mr. Besler and Mr. McCall.

This show will make you laugh-out-loud throughout, yet it finely integrates moments of subtle earnestness that prevent Tuna from becoming entirely two-dimensional. I give the production my highest recommendation, and sincerely hope as many of this blog’s readers go see it as possible.