Suspense on Stage at RLTP

Remember “Long Distance Call,” that episode of the incredible and timeless TV classic The Twilight Zone, where Billy Mumy’s grandmother gives him a play telephone and then she dies the next day? Whenever he picks up the phone, his grandma is talking to him.  The Thin Place, the new production at Road Less Traveled Theater, is as riveting and haunting as that 1961 episode. Maybe even moreso. Yes, I checked the backseat of my car before I got in after the show.

This is the WNY premiere of another work by lucas hnath and it breaks the fourth wall (while storytelling about the fifth dimension) in a way that is his signature style. As the story begins, house lights are up for several minutes as Hilda (Renee Landrigan) holds a cup of tea and starts talking about her grandma and their special relationship. Grandma was encouraging Hilda to see with her third eye, the one that is just behind her ‘seeing’ eyes, where communication is more felt than heard. Hilda’s mom called this satanic and demonic and banned Grandma from her home. Yet the lessons resonated with Hilda who would often sit quietly by candlelight to attempt to communicate with her grandma after she passed.

Hilda is an adult now, no longer living with her mom, when she meets Linda (Margaret Massman), a spiritual medium and she is captivated. They become friends and she soon meets others in Linda’s earthly circle, Sylvia (Kristen Tripp Kelley) and Jerry (David Mitchell), well-heeled jetsetters who have a different perspective on Linda’s ‘gift.’

Wow. Sounds like a simple parlor drama/relationship story, right? Nope. There are layers of story in here and piles of theatre magic wonderfully executed by the production team. Dyan Burlingame’s set is deceptively simple and Diane Almeter Jones’ props are the same. John Rickus does some creepy-good things with lighting; delaying and slowing the dimming of the house lights, cutting the stage lights (the theatre companion and I disagree on the critical duration of this black out. He says no more than :45 and I maintain it was a good 2:00 that I clutched his hand in terror). Sound Designer Katie Menke had some off-stage shattering and clattering to create, too.

Landrigan as Hilda ran the full emotional gamut, from almost shy to very knowing. This was an elegant performance. Massman was clever, convincing, mystical as the medium who was….or wasn’t. Tripp Kelley was easy to detest as the ‘friend’ with a jealous streak, and Mitchell brought a keen balance to this trio of women in complicated places.

All this was brought together by director Scott Behrend who let the strength of this content guide the simplicity of its presentation. This production is flawless, stop to finish, with its exquisite combination of story, actors, and production.

What I loved most about reading the playbill (yes, an actual book on paper with ink already) was reading about RLTP’s Bridge Program which has a college and high school student engaged in the production alongside working professionals. Best wishes to Brenda Bridges and Liam Rio respectively as you learn from the best in the business. I also loved the insert that had the story behind the story.

The Thin Place runs a gripping 90-minutes, with no intermission which would have broken the suspense and taken you away from a place beyond here and the beyond.  Find tickets and other info at www.roadlesstraveledproductions.org.

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Sir Andrew’s Back in Town at MusicalFare

It takes a lot of stage presence to command a stage solo for more than an hour. And that’s exactly what Leah Berst does in Tell Me on a Sunday, onstage now at MusicalFare Theatre.

Berst has the power (and the chops) to sing her way through this Andrew Lloyd Webber and Don Black one-woman song cycle. They wrote it in 1979, post Webber’s Evita, and the original plan was for it to be a TV program. Perhaps Sir Webber was still Rainbow High-weary; outside of the title song and the familiar tune “An Unexpected Song,” the melodies are Webber-predictable and the story is fairly flat.

That’s not to say that Berst isn’t commanding and outstanding on stage: she’s fantastic. It’s the script that doesn’t rise to her level, sadly.

In brief, Berst’s unnamed character leaves her home in the UK for New York City and love. That love fails, so it’s on to someone new. And then someone new and younger And then someone in California.. And then someone new and married. In between, she’s emailing her mum, getting angry at girlfriends, endeavoring to earn her green card, while remaining a hopeful romantic.

There are some fun moments. The repetitive “It’s Not the End of the World” (If I Lose Him, If He’s Younger, If He’s Married) is clever. Berst pours her heart into “Come Back With The Same Look in Your Eyes” and it’s lovely. Her self-righteous anger in “Let Me Finish” is classic break up material. She maintains her optimism with “Dreams Never Run On Time.” Le sigh…

Therese Quinn assembled a fine back up band, with Larry Albert on guitar, Jim Celeste on drums, Mike Moser on bass, Jim Runfola on woodwinds, and Gail Bauser playing cello which is absolutely lovely against Berst’s high range voice. Chris Cavanagh’s set is eye appealing and he uses some fun videos that help move the flimsy story along. It was fun to see other actors in video cameos, almost like a “Where’s Waldo of Buffalo Theatre.”

What I appreciate best about this show is its brevity: an hour and 10 minutes with no intermission. If COVID did one good thing for theatre, it’s the new emphasis on shorter productions. The Theatre Companion and I arrived early enough to enjoy good conversation in the Cabaret and lingered a few minutes post-show to enjoy Quinn and Randy Kramer getting four hands on the piano. It’s always great fun at MusicalFare.

I’m no fan of digital programs (I know…it saves money, it is contact-less, more to read on your own time…I get it), but I do love MusicalFare’s super creative use of the in-theatre video monitors before the program. Nell Mohn, Director of Strategic Development, was informative and entertaining in her video which explained the valueand need for fundraising. As a recovering fundraiser, I love and respect her enthusiasm for this challenging work.

Tell Me on a Sunday runs to March 19: visit musicalfare.com for tickets and details.

A World Premiere at Alleyway

The connection between a mom and her daughter can run deep. Especially when it’s only the two of you, you’re tight in each other’s orbit, your worlds intersect in inextricable ways. And that is Nicky and Naomi, the mother-daughter duo at the heart of The Aleph Complex, now on stage at Alleyway Theatre.

This is a new play, a world premiere, winner of the 2020 Maxim Mazumdar New Play Award. It’s quirky, original, and unexpectedly thought-provoking in the way that it lingered and niggled in my head.

Nicky Stamats (“my last name is a palindrome,” she said by introduction (played by Caroline Kolasny) is a twitchy and anxious college freshman, an English major who is using shadow puppets in a class presentation. As midterms loom, her inner heart-voice calls her home to mom (Sara Kow-Falcone), a designer who hasn’t left her apartment in five years. Their anxieties co-mingle: Nicky escaped a major milestone in her first months away from mom while Naomi was happily in her solitary safe space. Nicky’s coping mechanism is to imagine trapping her fears in plastic boxes (conveniently, she had worked at The Container Store) where they become more cope-able sounds. She’s convinced she can help her mom by grabbing up some self-help books from the last Borders store on the planet, located in the same strip plaza as her former employer. It’s there that she meets a bookseller (Josh Wilde) with his own issues: he can’t leave his store. He lives in his store. His store and its contents haunt him and hurt him. Yet in the backroom, there is the Aleph, his version of the time-space continuum portal (Think of the backroom of the diner in Stephen King’s 11/22/63.) Nicky and Borders Guy are drawn to each other; Nicky shares a treasured photo she found of her mom, backpacking through Europe in her youth and their unspoken wonder of ‘what happened’ is wistful, palpable. She also knits him a sweater with one loose yarn; there’s lots of metaphor here. Yarn is another word for story. Strings hold us together and can also let us go.

There’s more to this richly layered and nuanced story. Inspired by Argentinian author Jorge Luis Borges’ writings, there are metaphors galore and a myriad of mysticism against a backdrop of anxious emotions.

If this all sounds a little ‘out there,’ it is. The characters are endearing and the actors are solid in their roles. Kow-Falcone is especially interesting; we’re used to seeing her portray strong, empowered women, and here she’s more comfortable with shadow puppets than people. Kolasny and Wilde will be terrific to watch in future roles.

The set is nothing short of spectacular. First off, it’s huge, and uses every bit of Alleyway’s compact stage. Lynne Koscielniak and Nicholas Taboni built a two-level masterpiece that combined Naomi’s apartment, The Container Store, and Borders in one place. There’s some charming theatre magic crafted by puppet designer Caitlin McLeod to depict movement between Naomi’s apartment and the stores, too. Aaron Bowersox and Hudson Waldrop had oodles of light and sound cues respectively to craft and manage that added some of the more dreamlike moments.  The visual and aural experience underscored some of the more poignant points of playwright Deborah Yarchun’s story and locked it into a good place.  

All told, The Aleph Complex is the kind of interesting theatre that is Alleyway’s hallmark. Get there before it closes March 4. The show runs just under two hours with one intermission. Visit alleyway.com for details and tickets.

The Mai on Stage at ICTC

“I’m not drunk, I’m trapped.”

That single line sums up the key to The Mai, presented by the Irish Classical Theatre Company. Playwright Marina Carr examines the lives of seven women over four generations, each with their triumphs and tragedies that knit their family story.

The Mai (Kate LoConti Alcocer) is at the center: a mom and educator, she loves Robert her philandering husband (Chris Avery) , even when he takes off for five years and comes home with promises ne’er to be kept. Sisters Beck (Cassie Cameron) and Connie (Megan Callahan)  have their own struggles as they come and go from the lovely lakeside house The Mai built for her kids while Robert is pursuing his career and diversions. Grandma Fraochlan (Pamela Rose Mangus) tells her heirs hearfelt stories about their Mum’s short life and wistful stories of her late husband, the nine-fingered fisherman, between glasses of Mulberry wine and pulls on her pipe. Aunts Julie (Mary Moebius) and Agnes (Lisa Ludwig) in turn gossip and judge and ground this family as they keep a close hold on their practical handbags. It’s up to The Mai’s daughter Millie (Christine Turturro) as narrator to tell this story of her family, her legacy, and her future from her perspective. A clever plot device, Millie is both on the periphery and central to this story as she reflects on the dynamics that created the life she is yet to lead. And yes, they are all trapped, either by circumstances or in their memories or their designs for living. Even globe-trotting, bed-hopping Robert is trapped by his choices and questionable decisions.

It’s not a story laced with joy; while there are plenty of laughable moments, it’s The Mai’s overwhelming sadness that she’s not living the life she deserves that guides this story. Sure Grandma is a hoot; Magnus plays her to the hilt, with a scarlet ribbon holding back her tumble of grey curls, as she repeats the same stories about the men of her past and the one who captured her heart. Every family has Aunts like Agnes and Julie, and Moebius and Ludwig are perfection in these roles, with a look here, a comment there, and waning patience with their mother’s ramblings. Alcocer’s anguish pervades, even in the seemingly happy moment when Robert returns home with flowers, her favorite perfume and drink as peace offerings. Aye but the promise of fidelity you don’t quite hear is swiftly broken and his stern dressing down of his bride for having the audacity to criticize his latest girlfriend is exquisitely evidenced on Alcocer’s drawn face. Turturro’s finely nuanced narration ties all this together. She’s neither apologetic or condemning of her family story; she fills in the story between the story pragmatically yet with heart. I found myself watching her expressions (sometimes more than the central action) from her off-to-the-side position on set; she was actively taking it all in and processing as she watched the family story unfold. She bears responsibility for the next generation of this complex family.

Director Josephine Hogan made superb casting choices across the board with this stellar cast.  I always admire ICTC’s well-designed sets with bits and pieces of architectural elements suggesting walls and ceilings. Collin Ranney set designer was lovely and Jayson Clark’s lighting design had some subtle moments, too, with lingering illuminations at intermission and the final scene. There might have been some sound challenges the night I was in the house: Robert’s off-stage cello “playing” sounded tinny and truly canned (or perhaps that was sound designer Tom Makar’s intention to distort the usually elegant sound of this instrument to underscore Robert’s lack of humanity for his family.)

The Mai may make you chuckle in moments (seriously, I love Mangus as the grandmother and all her endearing quirks) but mostly you’ll leave disheartened that relationships fail, sad that hurting pervades the human condition, and wistful that sometimes family love is hard to feel.

The Mai is onstage to February 5: visit irishclassical.com. Run time is a little over two hours with a 15-minute intermission.

All Is Calm is Elegant Theatre

We learn the most important lessons from the most devastating moments. Reflecting on a moment in World War I’s history is a poignant reminder of humanity and the power of simple kindness.

MusicalFare Theatre’s reprised production of All Is Calm at Shea’s 710 Theatre is just as stunning as its 2021 staging. The same production team created an aurally and visually immersive experience in this larger house, with the sounds of war gently (and sometimes not so gently) rumbling under the words and music of this remarkable cast.

To recap the story, In the first few months of the war (“we thought it would be over by Christmas,” is an oft-repeated sentiment), British soldiers were acclimating to life in the trenches in that most frightening location of The Great War: No Man’s Land. Something happened on Christmas night, 1914: British soldiers on the Western Front heard singing and saw flickering lights coming from the German troops.  They crossed this chasm of battle and joined in with carols of their own, first competitively and then in unity. Weapons were laid down, beverages, snacks, and stories were shared, language and cultural barriers were set aside. The men declared their own unofficial Christmas truce that lasted but a few days and was ne’er repeated.  Playwright Peter Rothstein’s script is built on a series of statements from soldiers with each quote closed out with their name and rank. The epistolary form was well-used here, we’re reading a soldier’s letter to a loved one. Associating words to people gave the story a wide open heart.

If the story sounds familiar, you’re either a student of world history or you were in the Subversive Theatre Collective Audience in 2014 to see local writer Gary Earl Ross’ take on the same story, The Guns of Christmas.

Between the spoken lines were popular songs of the day and song Christmas carols, too. Music Director Theresa Quinn’s church choral director skills are well used here. All songs were performed a cappella with beautifully layered harmonies.  And truly, the songs were as organic and authentic as they would have been in the day, just coming out of nowhere to underscore a moment of levity or punctuate a moment of reflection and remembrance. The singers’ skills were breathtaking, to literally pull their music out of the air and fill the space effortlessly and perfectly. From Ricky Needham’s opening “Will Ye Go To Flanders,” to the final reprisal of the ensemble singing “Silent Night/Sill Nacht” and the reflective Last Post, the singing was haunting and lovely. With Needham are Christopher Andreana, Kyle Bassett-Baran, Christian Brandjes, Louis Colaiacovo, Chris Cummings, Alex Anthony Garcia, Matthew Gilbert-Wachowiak, Bob Mazierski, John Panepinto, Marc Sacco, and Dave Spychalski. Together they were everyman.   

Susan Drozd stage direction was precise. There were beautiful moments when weapons were sharply, deliberately placed just so. Each actor held a firm gaze to the back of the house when delivering lines, speaking to everyone and someone else just beyond the fourth wall.  Chris Cavanagh’s dramatic lighting and battle noises meshed with designer Dyan Burlingame’s trench set. Kari Drozd managed costume design and it was fun to watch the men using simple leg wraps, hats, and coats to become other characters. This was an important detail in the story and signaled their transition from camp soldier to one in active battle.

It’s a breath-taking, beautiful production with a timeless message: peace on Earth is possible.

The well-paced, single act (no intermission and just under 90 minutes) ended with a reminder, from British poet Robert Laurence Binyon’s poem “The Fallen”: “We will remember them.”

All Is Calm is onstage until December 18: tickets and details are at https://www.sheas.org/performances/all-is-calm/.

Ride That Magic Carpet to Aladdin

Well, after the week we’ve put in, isn’t it good to escape to a whole new world?

That’s what it felt like on opening night at Disney Aladdin on stage at Shea’s Buffalo Theatre until Sunday, November 27. It’s everything you expect a Disney stage production to be; dazzling costumes, lots of stage magic, a catchy score, and a high energy cast.

The story – if you missed the 1992 film – is a retelling of “Aladdin and His Magic Lamp” from the collection of Middle Eastern folktales “A Thousand and One Arabian Nights” albeit with a Disney spin.  It’s actually the perfect set up for practically every Disney story, where the kindly poor one encounters another one of privileged means, and while obstacles and meanies are thrown in their way, goodness and love will prevail. In other words, it could be Lady and the Tramp on two legs with two nasty humans instead of those wretched cats.

Cynicism aside, this Aladdin is everything you need it to be. From the opening number “Arabian Nights,” the Genie (Marcus M. Martin) completely endears you with his beguiling charm. You want to have a friend in him.  Martin’s rich and luxurious voice is the finest in this cast and his perfect articulation overcame some opening night muddiness in the sound mix. Aladdin (Adi Roy) is the heart-of-gold leader of his street gang-of four. They roam the marketplace, get in little bits of trouble, start their own boy band to earn some money, and will keep you laughing, even though the fat-guy-with-food-on-his-mind gags run their course pretty fast. Of course there’s Princess Jasmine (Senzel Ahmady), who’s disenchanted with her lot in life (marry a Prince, let him rule the kingdom) and wants to be the modern woman of her day. Jafar (Anand Nagraj) as the bad guy had the perfect spooky-evil laugh and his sidekick Iago (Aaron Choi) was as well-balanced and annoying sidekick.

Besides the Genie rightfully stealing every scene he is in (Martin really is THAT good), my other favorite part of the Aladdin experience is seeing how many kids were there with grown ups or with groups. That is how the next generation of theatre goers is built: one kid-appealing show at a time. And if it takes a Disney on stage extravaganza (with some well-placed ‘adult’ one-liners) to get them hooked, that’s OK. My parents started me with British light opera at Melody Fair (The Student Prince and Naughty Marietta when I was literally a babe in arm) and heck, it worked.

So yes, it’s pretty formulaic. The Menkin-Ashman-Rice-Begulein score is very familiar. It’s not the deepest of the deep plotlines. And yes, there is a marketplace of merch for sale and a lobby kiss and cry with Aladdin’s lap made for selfies. Embrace it. Get lost in the sparkle.  Take that magic carpet ride, just enjoy yourself. And don’t you dare close your eyes.

Disney Aladdin runs about two hours with a 15-minute intermission. There is no show on Thanksgiving and performances double-up for the weekend with rush priced tickets to boot. Get the details at www.sheas.org.

Guards at the Taj at Road Less Traveled Productions

I’ve always loved a good buddy story. Butch and Sundance, Thelma and Louise, Oscar and Felix…you get it. One is always solid, pragmatic while the other is more spontaneous, creative, free-falling through life because the other buddy is both the emotional safety net and soft place to land. Road Less Traveled Productions has the ultimate in buddy experiences onstage until December 11.

The two Guards at the Taj share that same rapport. Babur (Darryl Samira) and Humayun (Afrim Gjonbalaj) are on the lower rung of imperial guards gate-keeping the 22 year construction of the Taj Mahal.  They are to follow a strict protocol: they are to keep their backs to the construction site at all times with swords raised in their right hands; they are not to speak; and they are not to scale the wall to sneak a peek at the beauty that is being created behind them. No, they are not to see the work of 20,000 laboring men. But these young guards, who also shared military experience, are curious. Even through Humayun keeps reminding Babur to be quiet, stand tall, take this role seriously, they do fall into the easy banter of two guys on the job, until they realize that their work will include an unthinkable, unfathomable task. You see, the architect has asked the Shah to allow the workforce to view the completed Taj Mahal before it’s revealed to the rest of Agra and the world. This is an affront to the Shah, and there will be consequences. Babur can’t fathom that, nor can he zip his lip about his opinions, despite Humayun’s emphatic reminders. And this is where the buddy story takes a dark turn.

Playwright Rajiv Joseph’s award-winning script was inspired by myths, legends, and some history about how the Taj Mahal was constructed. The result is an intense and emotional experience that examines the boundaries of loyalty, honesty, and family responsibility.

Both Semira and Gjonbalaj are exceptional  here. It’s easy to get caught up in Semira’s boyish curiosity and enthusiasm as he dreams out loud about inventing a flying machine and seeing the world. Yet Humayun’s respect for rules has its virtue, too. This is riveting theatre that will linger in your mind as you reflect on its content and pull away the layers of their words, their actions, and the consequences they will face. It’s good to see Semira in this role after playing Arthur is MusicalFare Theatre’s easy-to-forget staging of Camelot. Gjonbalaj has a penchant for rich, complex roles as his character in RLTP’s Disgraced in  2018 and last season in D’Youville Kavinoky’s fierce People, Places, and Things.

Dyan Burlingame’s set is austere: the façade of a construction site is pretty blasé, but add John Rickus’ vibrant lighting design and Kate Menke’s sound that you can almost feel and the whole effect is unified and powerful. Director Kate Mallinson had a rich palette here.

I’ll be blunt: there were some scenes that were hard to watch. And they were meant to be that way. The 17th century was a brutal time and a grieving, entitled monarch could make his own rules.

Guards at the Taj runs just under 90 minutes with no intermission. Find info and a link to tickets at http://www.roadlesstraveledproductions.org.

Beehive Makes a Buzz at MusicalFare

Randy Kramer offered the best explanation as he welcomed the opening night audience to Beehive, now on stage at MusicalFare Theatre. He said the season was built during the pandemic and it’s all about forgetting about what is going on outside under all those facemasks and just having some fun. And for the most part, Beehive is all about putting fresh batteries in your favorite transistor radio and singing along with familiar Top 40 hits from yesterday.

Beehive is a send up to all the girl groups and girl singers of the ‘60s. It’s also a bit of a social history through fashion and hair styles (Kari and Susan Drozd must have had a blast working on the hair/wigs and fashions for this one) and a running commentary on selected events of the day.

Act 1 is all about the conventional world back then. Silly patter songs like “The Name Game,” tearful teen tunes like “It’s My Party,” and hopeful love songs like “Then He Kissed Me,” “Sweet Talkin’ Guy,” and “One Fine Day” had the audience singing along. The sextet of singers – Brittany Bassett-Baran, Stevie Jackson, Lily Jones, Sabrina Kahwaty, Kristen-Marie Lopez, and Timiyah Love were giving these songs their own treatment. They weren’t trying to imitate the songmakers of the day. It was indeed a jolly romp and the audience was eating it up.

Act II brought the second half of the decade. It started out with a lovely rendition of “Abraham, Martin, and John” by Jones, Lopez, and Love. It was a stunning, harmonic mesh of voices and a poignant lament on Mr. King’s and President Kennedy’s deaths plus a reflection on the lives lost in Viet Nam. Mores for women were changing, too, and so did the tenor and tone of the songs. The fashions were getting sassy as well,  as mini-skirts replaced the puffy crinolined skirts of a more modest length. As a society, we were moving from “My Boyfriend’s Back” to “You Don’t Own Me.” The cast cruised through a few British invasion tunes right back to the homegrown female voices. “The “River Deep, Mountain High” and “Pride Mary” medley did Tina Turner proud and the Aretha medley blew the roof off the house. Jones, Lopez, and Love did it again.  They even had a quick wardrobe change from slinky sequins to flowing chiffon. It was the highlight of the show. Then it was 1969 and time for Woodstock. Cottony fringed granny dresses and sandals replaced strappy sandals and sparkle. Kahwaty gave it her best as she tried to growl out “Somebody to Love.” But when Jackson came on stage in a send up of Janis Joplin, the audience laughed? Really? I was rather shocked. After an act and a half of well spun songs, for a couple numbers it felt like she was trying to parody (certainly not mock) Joplin and somehow some audience members found her performance amusing. The follow up trio turned “Me and My Bobby McGee” into a cheesy country tune without the signature bluesy soul.

Another thing that bothered me:  The trio ensemble pieces were as segregated as my Buffalo public grammar school, pre-Judge Curtain. It would have made a bold and beautiful artistic statement to mix it all up.

The set had the bright colors of the Laugh In stage, with different levels perfect for doing the twist, the jerk, and the pony. Director/choreographer Carlos R.A. Jones kept his cast movin’ and groovin’ all over the stage, too.

The back up band was solid, led by keyboardist Phil Farugia with  Larry Albert on guitar, Jim Linsner on drums., Jim Runfola blowing a mean sax, and Jimmy Runfola on bass.

If you’re into musical nostalgia and like to sing along, this is the show for you. So rat your hair, rub another coat of Jubilee wax on your Nancy Sinatra go-go boots, and grab a ticket a www.musicalfare.com. The show runs a fast-paced 90 minutes with one intermission to December 11.

Misery is a Creepy Good Story at D’Youville Kavinoky

One of the late singer Helen Reddy’s hits songs (circa 1974) began with the lyrics “Lonely women are the desperate kind.” That’s a good thought to keep when you see Misery on stage now at D’Youville Kavinoky Theatre.

Misery is based on the Stephen King novel which also became a film. The stage adaptation by William Goldman is just as eerie, creepy, and moody as one would expect of a story with King origin, and does a good job keeping you on the proverbial edge of your seat.

Our lonely, desperate, not-exactly a heroine is Annie Wilkes, an ex-nurse who lives alone in a secluded Colorado farm house. She’s the “number one fan” of novelist Paul Sheldon and his historical fiction series about Misery Chastain. Sheldon ironically stays at a nearby inn from time to time, and when Annie is not-so-ironically following him on a mountain road during a snowstorm and he skids off the road, she decides to nurse him back to health. In her home. Without calling for help. And that’s where it all gets weird. Wonderfully, psychologically, and thrillingly weird.

Loraine O’Donnell is Wilkes, Adriano Gatto is Sheldon together (with a couple visits from the Sheriff, played by Steven Brachmann), they take us on a journey of obsession and extreme fan-girl gone mad.

The emotional tone is established by David King’s set. It revolves to show three key spaces in Annie’s home; the bedroom where Paul is locked in; the hallway with a bookshelf tribute to Paul and his Misery books, and Annie’s kitchen. Each space is dreary with time-darkened wallpaper, old furnishings, and dowdy trappings with some religious displays, too. Props to prop designer Donny Woodward for creating a visual atmosphere of sadness from the start. (Shout out to the ‘50s vintage copper Jello molds hanging over the kitchen sink. Dear readers who have visited my home know that mine hang in the pantry.)

The Annie we meet is bubbly, excited to be caring for her captive idol, and devoted to his recovery. Or not. O’Donnell is the master of this transformation, from eager helpmate to captor….her eyes, her mannerisms, her demeanor shifts and morphs as our story unfolds.  Gatto as Paul does his share of shifting, too, as he regains physical strength and mental wherewithal. And as he heals, the fun begins. He wants to leave. Annie needs him to stay. And she’s determined. The mental calisthenics they play is so creepy good, bewitching almost. Director Brian Cavanagh coaxed power into the restraint here and it’s fine. The most visually arresting scene was as the set rotated counterclockwise as Paul propelled his wheelchair clockwise through the rooms looking for a way out. Gatto choreographed some chilling fight scenes, too, between Annie and Paul and some weapons, too.  

Misery is smart, sad, sharp, and scary. It’s a potent reminder that disappointment and life circumstances can change someone’s heart and soul, perhaps beyond repair, and even pop literature has power when the reader is very fully engaged. D’Youville Kavinoky is telling more than a story here.

Misery is on stage until November 20 and runs a little more than two hours with a 15-minute intermission. I particularly love the printed program and the “stand by” cast (Don Gervasi as Paul, Marie Costa as Annie, Kodi James as the Sheriff.) A good decision on the Kav’s part to have standbys at the ready. Too many productions were truncated or canceled the past couple years and this is a good plan. Book your reservation at http://www.kavinokytheatre.com.

Burst is Packed with Energy

In the 1967 Mike Nichols movie The Graduate, one of the most memorable lines was actually one word: “Plastics.” Back then plastic was the way of the future, a convenience, an economic driver, something on which a college graduate (or even a drop out) could build a successful career. Fast forward to now: plastic has infiltrated our lives and our environment in significant and life-altering ways. Perhaps its real future is in how to manage plastic’s more destructive properties.

That’s what is at the heart of Burst, a new play by Rachel Bublitz on stage now at Alleyway Theatre. What else is surrounding that heart? Betrayal, lies, bravado so intense that if it was indeed masking insecurity, the root cause would never see daylight, and a polyester zip-front vest.

Yes, Burst has a lot going on for a 90-minute three-hander. And it is good. Scary good. Tracie Lane is Sarah Boyd, the marketing maven of Tactix, a burst-on-the-scene company she founded with college pal Jennifer Weaver (Aleks Malejs) when they met at UC/Berkley (natch). They raised some of their start up capital selling a Shark Tank-worthy gimmick: a pair of socks called the 50/50. You sent in 50 plastic bottles to recycle and $50 and you received a pair of socks, allegedly made from the recycled plastic bottles. Brilliant, huh? Well, in hindsight, maybe not practical and certainly not accessible ($50 for a pair of socks?). This is the kind of sizzle that gets you on the cover of Forbes. It’s also the fodder for a plan that can also flame out when something goes awry. It’s Sarah’s drive that launched the biz while Jennifer used her science skills (albeit Sarah snarls “Nobody cares about science” when the two rumble) to create the process that would change the molecular structure of plastic from the oh-so-‘70s recycled biodegradable stuff of Earth Day fame to something new and very well…saleable. Except…maybe it isn’t there. Or even possible. Or is it? And who knows the truth?

This is the sheer brilliance of this story: it’s a friendship gone bad story. It’s an ambition obfuscates authenticity story. It’s zeal couched in marketing story. And like I said, it’s scary good.

From the very start of the show, when her character is practicing a presentation, saying, “The problem is plastic,” Lane is on fire. She shifts from angry to ecstatic to cunning and charming. She never leaves the stage and she commands your attention every moment that she paces the set. Malejs is just as intense in her way; she’s a scientist, bound by integrity but caught in a whirling orbit manufactured by her business partner. She is focused, quietly righteous, probably intimidated as all get out. When Christine Turturro enters as Alexis the reporter – who Sarah thinks will crank out a puff piece – the dynamic is already volatile. Alexis’ questions test Sarah and Jennifer…and more layers of this fascinating story are exposed.

I really like this group of actors here. This is a different role for Malejs as the docile friend in the shadow of a big personality. She steps back well. I had only seen Lane’s performance in Irish Classical Theatre Company’s Stage Kiss last season and frankly, I wasn’t bowled over by the production at all. This was a delight and a relief to see her so engaged. Turturro never disappoints; she gives Alexis the wisdom of a veteran reporter and the ferocity someone looking for her breakout story.

Director Daniel F. Lendzian manages this trio by keeping the pace fast and rhythmic. Malejs and Lane bounce off each other perfectly in their roles: the more rivetingly intense Sarah is, the more quietly, righteously Jennifer retreats. Turturro brings a new spark to this dance. As the reporter, she’s done her scrubbing (newsroom jargon for deep background research) and she knows the flaws and is ready to go public. And this is where the real fun begins.

Collin Ranney’s set – Sarah’s mid-century office – was clean and sleek. It was a curious design choice (a retro ‘60s vibe from when plastic was less evil) and the back wall filled with empty plastic bottles was the perfect counterpoint. Emma Schimminger kept the lighting bright, almost fluorescent. Shifting the colors of the plastic bottles on the back wall made it seem like performance art.

I have to say, I wasn’t expecting this when I saw the show description. It wasn’t the “let’s fix the environment” tale I had anticipated. It’s a character study of ambition taking a wrong turn, and a constructed college relationship detouring where personal passions collide with integrity. The characters you don’t see – Lee, the gatekeeper, Nina, the assistant, and the college professor/mentor – are still vivid in how Sarah and Jennifer discuss them. Dang, it’s good.

Burst runs 90 minutes with no intermission, to November 12.  Tix and info at http://www.alleyway.com.