David Barth’s
Hard Right
Wednesday through Saturday at 8 PM
Closed April 1, 2006
The Players Theatre

Featuring the very talented cast: Jeremy Beck; Shayne
Dukevitch; Susan Engbrecht; Dylan Price; Stacy Shane.

Reviewed by Caroline Smith

There is a snapshot of suburban bliss at the start of the play. But it does not last long because playwright and director, David Barth, quickly has pictures falling off the walls and crudités flying across the room. What begins as a picture out of a Pottery Barn catalog, quickly escalates into a terrifying experience that no family is impervious to.

When college slacker son, actor Jeremy Beck, arrives home with new girlfriend, actor Shayne Dukevitch, tensions seems to build around his stoned paranoia. But his ambiguous remarks and overall unresponsiveness to his parents’ queries is not uncommon for kids who haven’t seen Mom and Dad in a while. This is where much of the comedy lies. Barth has created an almost Norman Rockwell effect with the two loving, supportive parents leaning over a frowning, vexed son.

However, the actual trouble arrives with the sound of the doorbell. The man in the blue windbreaker, claiming to work for the government, enters the scene and immediately drives the rest of the play. Actor Dylan Price, successfully creates a character who fills us with intrigue and fear. He interrogates the son and all of his ambiguities regarding his direction in life. The scene becomes uncomfortable, worrisome, and ultimately violent. Price antagonizes and threatens Beck that if he doesn’t clean up his act he will be doing a great disservice not only to himself, but to the rest of mankind.

Barth’s writing is interesting because there are still comedic moments interwoven with the terror. As an audience, we never can piece the puzzle together. Just who is this intruder? In an age of terror, even with all the news coverage and increased protection nationwide, why does it still come as a surprise to us that our living rooms may not truly be the safest places? Hard Right questions individual choices, individual paths, and the way we all may be affected by one another’s decisions.

Tickets - $25 Students/Seniors - $15 – www.theatermania.com

The Players Theatre | 115 MacDougal Street (b/t W.3rd St. & Minetta Lane)
BY SUBWAY: A,B,C,D,E,F,Q to W. 4th St.

Lestat
Opened April 25, 2006
Open Run
Palace Theater

Reviewed by Adam Ritter

Die Young…Live Forever

Let us hope in this case, the former….

What begins as an interpretive dance of lycanthropic slaughter continues unmercifully to reveal the journey of Lestat, the title character of this Elton John musical based upon Ann Rice's prolific character.

Lestat's impressive sword play cannot help but capture - at most - the attention of natures one and only seductive-cum-homoerotic undead creature, the Nosferatu. His name is Magnus, and although he may be a down-in-the-dumps reanimated corpse who's contemplating suicide, Magnus still yearns to bestow the gift of immortality coursing through his veins. But who worthy of his largesse? Only the wolf-killer Lestat, who hears his benefactor call to him on the echoes of a whispering wind and soon falls victim to Magnus's crimson kiss.

Having impishly bitch-slapped away his father's approval, Lestat turns to Nicholas, his boyhood it's-only-a-phase buddy, who as it turns out is "too light for the dark gift", a rejection that has sadly been delivered to me in many a bar.

Also at his side is Gabrielle, Lestat's Oedipally suffocating mother whose ailments he cures with one simple nip and whose rejuvenation is manifested by expressive lurching about that rivals Shatner in his finest hour.

In Paris, bastion of the arts and undead, the mother-son duo free a drably outfitted coven from their self-imposed societal exile and a new chapter of Vampirism begins, celebrated as only Broadway knows how; another revolution of interpretive dance.

Throughout Lestat, the contemplative anti-hero aches to reconcile his murderous abrogation of morality with the thirst for blood that sustains his very existence. But only a faltering morality could lead an otherwise thoughtful lad to one day condemn humanity to an undying Brad Pitt. Er... I mean Louis. Talk about the winter of despair.

"We have eternity, let's make the most of it," Lestat commands the oppressed coven. And soon their bonds of ignominy and burlap are no more. Should you feel compelled to bear witness to the aftermath, Lestat is now sucking blood at the Palace Theater, where it will only feel like an eternity.

Lestat is directed by Robert Jess Roth with musical staging by Matt West, the musical stars Hugh Panaro in the title role, Carolee Carmello as Gabrielle, Jim Stanek as Louis, Roderick Hill as Nicolas, Michael Genet as Marius and Allison Fischer as Claudia.

Tickets are $65.00-$110.00 at ticketmaster.com and 212-307-4100

Palace Theatre |1554 Broadway
New York, NY 10036

Sam Shepard’s
A Lie of the Mind
The Sam Shepard Festival
Closed April 9, 2006
The Big Little Theater

Reviewed by Frank J. Avella

No contemporary American playwright seems to understand the lunacy inherent in the heartland of the good ol’ US of A better than Sam Shepard. His lyrical and evocative writing offers audiences a fascinating peek into the soul of midwest America.

Originally produced in December of 1985 with a stellar cast that included Geraldine Page, Harvey Keitel, Aidan Quinn and Will Patton, A Lie of the Mind is currently receiving a powerful revival via the Michael Chekhov Theatre Company. The production is part of The Sam Shepard Festival which will be ambitiously presently ALL of Shepard’s plays from now until December 2007. The first three: Buried Child, Simpatico and Lie are now running in rep.

I was lucky enough to see the original when I was a teen and remember having quite a frightening, revelatory and explosive theatrical experience.

Family dysfunction is explored in an almost madcap way in A Lie of the Mind, and director Kathy Curtiss does a nice job of balancing the humor with the pathos.

The poetry of Shepard is not always fully grasped in this production, nor is the violence that is inherent in some of the characters, but, at close to three hours, the play is always interesting to watch and, ultimately, quite poignant.

Among the ensemble are some particularly amazing standouts: Thomas Francis Murphy embodies Baylor as if the part was written for him; Freida Lipp is odd, disturbing and riveting as crazy-mama Lorainne; Curtis Nielsen is a beguiling Jake, at once a monster and a puppy; and Will Schneider is hilarious and terrifying as the loopy brother, Mike.

I look quite forward to more Shepard from this group and anyone interested in the master playwright’s work, should make their way on over to the Little Big Theatre.

Tickets are $18 at smarttix.com - http://www.chekhovtheatre.com/shepfest.html

The Big Little Theatre| 141 Ridge Street
New York, NY 10002
(Stanton and Houston))

Reviewed by Frank J. Avella

“Stuff happens,” is what Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld replied when asked by a reporter about the looting in Iraq following the military operation.

Absorbing that crazy bit of insanity and using it as the the title for his new play, the distinguished playwright David Hare (Oscar nominated for The Hours) has crafted a pulse-pounding, riveting, ridiculous, outrageous evening of great theatre. It also stands as fascinating historical evaluation.

Is it a polemic? Arguably, yes. But it’s an important one that should be mandatorily staged in each and every one of our 50 states.

Stuff Happens received it’s world premiere at the Royal National Theatre in London in 2004 and has since been tweaked and updated. That staging was on a grand level. Here, director Daniel Sullivan has chosen to scale things down and the result is a more intimate show where the audience feels they are privy to the decision-making process, making it all the more frightening. Sullivan’s staging is flawless.

While watching Stuff Happens I could not help but think about what things must’ve been like during the dark days of World War 2 when titanic leaders like Roosevelt and Churchill were meeting and making world-altering decisions. I thought about the faith the free world must’ve placed in these great men to annihilate true evil. What a time it must have been. Today we place our fate into the hands of a collection of dangerous, self-serving buffoons. Does Bush bear ANY resemblance to FDR except for the fact that Roosevelt was physically handicapped and Bush appears to be mentally handicapped? Ah, but I digress...

Stuff Happens chronicles the fascinating, all too tragic, road George W and his team (Donnie, Dickie, Condi, Colon and Tony) took from 9/11 to the rape of Iraq.

Besides the obvious detours, Hare provides us with some startling accounts. One of the most incredulous involves the notion that Tony Blair and the British troops were very close to actually capturing Bin Laden but were told by the Bush camp to “stand down.” A plethora of “why” theories rushed through my head.

Near the end of the play a few poll results are reading showing how almost half of all Americans actually believed Saddam Hussein was in some way responsible for 9/11 and also believe that some of the 9/11 terrorists were Iraqi. Scary statistics, indeed.

Hare takes most of his materials from existing (autenticated) sources, yet does, admittedly, take dramatic license with the behind-closed-doors scenes.

The Stuff ensemble work splendidly together and never fall into Saturday Night Live-caricature performances. Each one is able to embody the essence of these well-known figures without resorting to impersonation. Special kudos to: Peter Francis James’ conflicted Colin Powell; Byron Jennings’ anxious Tony Blair; Gloria Reuben’s elusive Condoleezza Rice and Robert Sella’s scene-stealing Dominique De Villepin.

My one complaint is that I craved a more potent ending. Without giving it away, the entire work builds to this one moment and that moment needs to be more powerful and penetrating then it currently is.

Regardless, Stuff Happens is important entertainment.

In Act Two DeVillepin snidely states: “On September 11th, America changed. Yes. It got more stupider.” These words may be hard to swallow but it would behoove us to nibble at them a bit to see if we taste any truth.

Tickets are $50 - 212-239-6200 or 800-432-7250 - www.telecharge.com

Public Theater |425 Lafayette Street

Fabrice Rozié's
Transatlantic Liaison
Closed April 15, 2006
Howard Clurman Theater

Starring: Elizabeth Rosen and Mathew S. Tompkins

Reviewed by Anusha Alikhan

Transatlantic Liaison brings to life the love letters of French philosopher and novelist, Simone de Beauvoir and American writer Nelson Algren. Director John McLean’s adaptation of Fabrice Rozie’s heart-wrenching play about the struggle between love and freedom is fabulous. The play was adapted from de Beauvoir’s actual letters to Algren, and her book The Mandarin’s, published in 1957.

Simone de Beauvoir is best known for her feminist treatise Le Deuxieme Sexe (The Second Sex). In 1947 at age forty she fell in love with Algren and experience a sexual awakening. They met in 1947 when de Beauvoir was visiting Chicago for a lecture tour. Out of loyalty to her life long companion famous French philosopher, Jean-Paul Sartre, she refused to marry Algren and leave Paris. Instead, the couple carried on a love affair of letters, and brief encounters for seventeen years. The play exposes their relationship with graceful precision conveying both the pain and pleasure of their longing and the contradictions of the human heart.

Haunting pictures of side-walk Parisian cafes project across the stage in the opening scene followed by the image of a woman’s hand gliding across a white page, writing to her lover. The outline of a cellist playing a lonesome ballad can be seen behind a sheer muslin curtain. De Beauvoir, played by Elizabeth Rosen enters reciting a love letter to Algren in her pronounced French accent. She pulls covers from the tables, chairs – the props covering the stage – as though inviting the audience into her life. Immediately we learn of her breast cancer scare, which sets the tone for the intimacy the audience shares with the characters throughout the play.

The struggles that the characters encounter in their unique relationship become real, as do their personal complexities. De Beauvoir’s fight to maintain her politics and proving her devotion to Algren are depicted in a strong portrayal by Rosen. She is an icon of feminism and femininity. Algren, played by Mathew S. Tompkins delivers a convincing performance of a tough, reclusive writer who loves de Beauvoir even though “it’s hard to make love on paper.” In their natures the characters contradict each other - de Beauvoir is emotional, expressive, and very French, while Algren is cynical, reclusive, and very American. This separateness is understood in their fiery interactions, but so is their unquestionable chemistry.

In exploring the relationship between these two intensely intelligent figures, Transatlantic Liaison not only highlights the beauty of this unconventional love, it peels back the facade of the characters to show us their insides. And when de Beauvoir in her closing monologue declares “Even if the world is forever cold now it was worth it”—we believe her.

Tickets $45.00 - www.ticketcentral.com & 212-279-4200

Harold Clurman Theater |412 West 42nd Street
New York, NY 10036

Witches in Bikinis
Visit www.witchesinbikinis.com for information.

Reviewed by Frank J. Avella

Who exactly are the Witches in Bikinis?

A gaggle of gorgeous girlie ghouls in flimsy-wear?
A camp collection of wanna-be drag queen hags--only pretty?
A slightly-scary, always-entertaining, coven of crazy/cuckoo female vixens

Well, all of the above, actually.

Formed in March of 2005, (in Brooklyn of all places!) Witches has grown in stature and reputation and can be seen in full cabaret form at Don’t Tell Mama’s and other locales in the area.

Composer/lyricist William Rozar weaves a concoction of poppy/rocky tunes that pay homage to the Supremes, Frankie and Annette as well as The Rocky Horror Picture Show. The result is a mostly entertaining sound that is sometimes even highly satiric.

Standout numbers include: the rousing ‘Video Vixen Vampire’ that opens the show; the haunting ballad ‘Hold Me, My Little Ghostie;’ the witty ‘Horror Flick Chicks’ and creepily delightful ‘Zombie March.’ The only real misfire musical moment is the redundant ‘Haunted Mansion.’

An audience participation song, ‘Party Like a Chimpanzee’ provides more fun (and prizes as well.)

The witches themselves have a ball onstage and that feeling envelops the audience. The two lead witches do most of the singing. Jules Hartley has a strong voice and presence while Carolyn Demisch tears up the cabaret floor with her powerhouse vocals and spooky/sexy strutting.

Three quarters into the show director Amir Levi appears in near-drag regalia as Popeye Khan, a descendent of Ghengis Kahn. This bit of info provided one of the biggest laughs of the evening and made one long for more cleverisms.

While I would love to see an eventual book tie these irreverent moments together, for now, Witches in Bikinis holds its own because the sexy and talented gals onstage are just so bloody entrancing, infectious and scare-a-licious!