Sopranos in Love – Can’t Stop Believin’ in OTSL’s ‘Coronation of Poppea’

Sopranos in Love – Can’t Stop Believin’ in OTSL’s ‘Coronation of Poppea’

By CB AdamsContributing Writer

Opera Theatre’s riveting production of Claudio Monteverdi’s The Coronation of Poppea brings to mind
some dubious advice from philosopher-cum-mob boss Tony Soprano, “When you’re
married, you’ll understand the importance of fresh produce.”

The green grocer in Poppea is none other than the real-life Roman leader Nerone (nee Nero), portrayed with unerring sleaze, swagger and callous Machiavellian machismo by tenor Benton Ryan. At its most reductive, Poppea is a “love” triangle set within a palace drama.  Nerone’s desire to discard his wife, Ottavia, (played with perfect, doomed impotence by Sarah Mesko) into the compost heap sets in motion the story’s drama. But, as the title implies, this isn’t really his story. It belongs to his paramour and hot potato, Poppea, played by the excellent Emily Fons.

Poppea shares much with Carmela Soprano who famously
quipped, “…It’s a multiple choice thing with you. ‘Cause I can’t tell if you’re
old-fashioned, you’re paranoid or just a f**cking asshole.” Except, for Poppea,
those question are rhetorical. Her theme song would not be Tina Turner’s “I
Might Have Been Queen.” Fons’s Poppea, we realize early on, will be queen. Just get her to the
coronation on time.

 The Sopranos operatically limned the complexities of love/lust,
power/vulnerability, allegiance/betrayal and life/death. Yet, as fresh as those
storylines appeared, they were really just modern manifestations of ageless Big
Themes – as Poppea aptly
demonstrates. To provide some genealogical operatic perspective, Poppea was first performed in the
Teatrro Santi Giovanni e Paolo in Venice in 1643 for the Carnival season.

And therein lies the brilliance of OTSL’s current
production: it’s a classic story still capable of captivating and surprising a
modern audience with its ambitious and equally modern Go Big Or Go Home attitude
– when presented this well. If this sounds hyperbolic, then consider the chorus
of gasps that erupted from the audience during the knifing to death of a
character (no spoilers, here). That was proof enough that OTSL’s casting,
direction and design all work seamlessly to achieve an emotionally satisfying,
multi-layered, epiphanic experience.

Unlike its namesake, OTSL’s Poppea, directed by Tim Albery by way of England’s North Opera
(2014), is a perfect marriage in toto.
Albery and set/costume designer Hannah Clark give this age-old tale a more
modern look, setting it in the near past with a sheen that is part mob movie,
part French New Wave and part Mad Men.
It draws upon talents both wide and deep, top to bottom, to achieve its
successes:

Photo by Eric WoolseyThe Leads: Part
of the magic of the elevated, high-art opera theater experience is its
potential to entice the audience to suspend its disbelief. Achieving that
alchemy is often more aspirational than actual. OTSL’s Poppea achieves that potential, with Fons, Ryan and Mesko being the
highest-profile examples. Individually they inhabited their roles and collectively
interacted with assured chemistry . Mezzo-soprano Fons nailed the voice,
mannerisms and confidence to turn Poppea from mere conniving character to
queen. Benton, Poppea’s running mate (whether at her side, trailing behind or
just sniffing around) was engaging as a man of great, misguided, misused power.
To his credit, his portrayal – more than once – begged for cries of, “You
dumbstick, don’t do it!” Mesko as Ottavia was no wet dishrag. As a character,
Ottavia is outnumbered and outgunned, but Mesko’s performance garnered audience
sympathy and support for her Sisyphean efforts to save her marriage, status and
self.

Supporting Actors:
Poppea is a rich, multi-layered story
that relies on a large cast. The leads in OTSL’s production were joined by
equally strong supporting performances, including some roles for Richard Gaddes
Festival Artists and Gerdine Young Artists.

As the philosopher Seneca, David Pittsinger’s deep baritone provided
a beautiful gravitas to his efforts to counsel and guide his pupil, Nerone. His
distinctive voice exemplifies another strength of this production – you could
close your eyes and still distinguish the various characters. Tom Scott-Cowell,
a countertenor, was a delight to witness as he pretzeled his desperate character
from jilted lover to cross-dressing assassin.

As if the human machinations weren’t enough, Monteverdi also
threw in some meddling gods, which Albery used to open the opera (even before
it officially starts) by wandering around the set, as if waiting for the party
to get started. Mezzo-soprano Michael was a delightfully puckish, androgynous
and Babe Ruth-ish Amore competing with a weary Virtu, played by Jennifer
Aylmer, and latex-gloved Fortuna, played by Sydney Baedke.

Set and Lighting:
Under Hannah Clark’s design, not an inch of the thrust stage was wasted in this
production that balanced a steam-punk industrial vibe with the beautify period instruments
of the musicians flanking each side. Overhead hung three mid-century modern
chandeliers. Shiny, verdigris back walls were reminiscent of an old natatorium
(apt, for this is a world under water), complete with a ladder used to good
effect by the gods to “ascend” above the action.

In contrast, the walls were punctured by a corrugated sliding
door and another that looked it was stolen from an abandoned meat locker. The
set design also made clever use of a rolling table for feasting, lovemaking, dancing,
peacocking, escaping and, ultimately, as a place to stack the bodies (you stab
‘em, we slab ‘em). Despite these seeming visual incongruities, the set and
design work cohesively with the other elements of this interpretation.

Music: Adding to
the unconventional presentation, Albery elevates the musicians to perform in two
string quartets seated on either side of the stage. The musicians were dressed
mostly in formal ballroom attire, adding a graceful note as they played on violins,
two harpsichords and a variety of period instruments, including Baroque harp, viola
da gamba and theorbos.  

In a debate with the other gods, Amore asserts that love
will win the day. In Poppea, love – blind
love, anyway – does seem to win the day, as Nerone and Poppea finish one of opera’s
great duets and look hesitantly toward an unknowable future. This moment calls
to mind something Dr. Melfi says to Tony Soprano, “Sometimes, it’s important to
give people the illusion of being in control.”

 “The Coronation of Poppea” plays at the Loretto-Hilton Center through June 30. For more information or to purchase tickets, visit www.experienceopera.org.

Life is a Highway: ‘Leaving Iowa’ Leaves You Smiling Wistfully

Life is a Highway: ‘Leaving Iowa’ Leaves You Smiling Wistfully

By C.B. AdamsContributing WriterAct Inc.’s family-friendly production of Leaving Iowa, written by the multi-talented team of Tim Clue and Spike Morgan, feels like an adaptation of a personal essay. You know, the kind that appears around Father’s Day in the New York Times‘s Sunday Review with a title like, “Me and My Old Man.”

John Steinbeck took to the highways with his dog and ended up with a book called Travels With Charlie. Leaving Iowa, a memory play that weaves past and present, could just as well be titled Travels With My Dad — a mildly ironic title perhaps, given that the narrator of this play is carrying around his father’s memory and his burial ashes. 

Befitting its authors’ professional achievements as motivational speakers and improv/stand-up comedians, Leaving Iowa offers snappy, quick-paced and engaging dialogue that is well timed and sprinkled liberally with one-liners and other comedic accoutrements.

As an entertainment, it shares much with a good-quality sitcom in the vicinity of Home Improvement. It’s approach and themes are milder versions of those in A Christmas Story(movie or musical version), which was itself a softer version of humorist Jean Shepard’s novel In God We Trust: All Others Pay Cash.

Photo by John LambLeaving Iowa can feature as many as 27 performers by casting multiple character parts separately. Director Lori Renna nicely pared this production to just six by making use of the quick-changing talents of CeCe Day and John Emery.

Part of the fun of this production was anticipating whom Day and Emery would be playing the next time they emerged from the wings of the in-the-round stage at the Black Box Theater in Lindenwood’s J. Scheidegger Center for the Arts.The four other parts, played by John Reidy as Dad, Colleen Heneghan as Mom, Hunter Frederick as Don Browning and Amanda Brasher as Sis, also required the actors to portray their characters in the present and past. Hunter and Brasher delightfully transformed from young backseat nattering chatterboxes to their more mature but no less competitive adult counterparts. The play is projected through the lens of the son, Don Browning. Hunter’s likeable, identifiable and approachable portrayal of a son running the gamut of fond remembrances, regret and contrition hit his mark with ease every time.

Heneghan and Reidy as Mom and Dad respectively provided a solid base from which the rest of the play revolves. After all, doesn’t it seem like our parents never change? This was especially true as veteran actor Reidy play Dad both as a real live character as well as a tingle-inducing memory-ghost in some scenes.

As the actors bopped from scene to scene along the play’s extended time line, their efforts were well supported by the staging provided by Lori Potts, scene design by Tim Grumich, lighting design by Michael Sullivan , costume design by Jane Sullivan and sound design by Kaitlynn Ferris. To this team’s credit, all of these elements  were quietly woven into the play and provided just the right of effect to convey each scene. Sometimes, as in this case, not standing out is outstanding — and the right directorial choice.More than once, the family in Leaving Iowa piles into an imaginary car and hits a road that is sometimes metaphorical and sometimes actual. As the play ends, with Don finally finding an appropriate resting place for his father’s ashes, its resolution leaves the audience with a feeling both wistful, amused, satisfied, and…well, happy. You know that look a dog has with its head sticking out the window of a moving car, as if its smiling?Yeah, Leaving Iowa leaves you like that. 

Photo by John LambAct Inc. presents “Leaving Iowa” June 14 through June 22. Performances June 21-22 are Friday at 7:30 p.m. and Saturday at 2 p.m. in the Emerson Black Box Theatre at J. Scheidegger Cener for the Arts on the Lindenwood campus in St. Charles. For more information or tickets, visit www.actincstl.com

The Lions In Winter: ‘Lewis & Tolkien’ Peeks At Real Friendship Between Fantasy’s Old Boys

The Lions In Winter: ‘Lewis & Tolkien’ Peeks At Real Friendship Between Fantasy’s Old Boys

By C.B. Adams Contributing Writer The title of the play, “Lewis & Tolkien of Wardrobes and Rings” might imply that attendees will be privy to behind-the-scenes factoids about their favorite “Lord of the Rings” and/or “The Chronicles of Narnia” characters. Alas, no revelations here. The two-man play, presented at the Playhouse at Westport Plaza, offers no new insights into Bilbo’s sexuality or Aslan’s origins as a plush toy.

“Lewis & Tolkien” delights in other, more
mature and insightful ways. It’s a buddy play, an even-more-literary “My
Dinner with Andre.” Written and performed by David Payne as C. S. Lewis
with Gregory Welsch as J. R. R. Tolkien, this play lightly examines the lives,
loves, shortcomings and pontifications of these masters of British fantasy as
they age into grumpy, weary, ruminative old men.

With a simple set — two easy chairs, a couple of tables, a
chess set to convey a cozy back room at their favorite pub — the play puts
front and center the true friendship between Tolkien and Lewis — the men, not
the legends. And friendship here is defined as a deep, platonic man-love that
has both nourished and complicated their lives.

 As Tolkien wrote in “The
Fellowship of the Ring,” “All we have to decide is what to do with the
time that is given us.” Payne’s play sets the two characters down to hash out
some of their issues. This approach emphasizes the abilities of the two actors.
In this, Payne and Welsch are as comfortable as well-broken-in loafers. Without
snazzy scenery or sound design, it’s easy to fall into the word- and
idea-filled relationship between them.

Neither Tolkien nor Lewis have any distinctive mannerism or
characteristics, compared to, say, Truman Capote, so there is no burden to
assess how well either actor portrays his man. So, the success of this
performance relies — rightly — on the chemistry and interplay between Payne
and Welsch. In this production, this is achieved well.

 The writers
themselves created fantastical worlds and these actors create a smaller but no
less potent and engaging world of ideas and interpersonal challenges and
triumphs. Plus, they get to dis The Bard himself, Shakespeare. That’s a tall
challenge with pared down theatrical essentials and a stage as intimate as
Westport’s. Despite some small timing and dialogue flubs by Payne, and the
noticeable tape holding the microphones on the cheeks of both actors, they
maintained this world with believability, passion and poignancy.

If this play were a painting, it would be one of those
glowing cottages rendered by Thomas Kinkade. It invites you in for some tea and
a satisfying, stimulating conversation. Taking an algorithmic approach, ala
Pandora or Spotify, if you like these authors’ writings, if you are a regular
Masterpiece Theatre-goer, if you are into tweedy woolen jackets with leather
elbow patches, or if you have an abiding appreciate the “life of the
mind,” then Lewis & Tolkien is for you.

The Playhouse at Westport Plaza presented “Lewis
& Tolkien, of Wardrobe and Rings” for six performances June 13-16. For more
information, visit www.playhouseatwestport.com

Act Inc.’s ‘Travels with My Aunt’ Proves It’s Not Easy Being – or Playing – Greene

Act Inc.’s ‘Travels with My Aunt’ Proves It’s Not Easy Being – or Playing – Greene

By CB AdamsContributing Writer

“Travels With My Aunt,” a 1969 novel by Graham Greene and adapted into this play by Scotsman Giles Havergal, is 10 pounds of story stuffed into an evening clutch bag. The micro-synopsis of the globe-trotting plot is that it involves the tentacled way a flamboyant octogenarian aunt tractor-beams her nephew, a stuffy retired banker with a penchant for raising dahlias, into the intrigue of her nefarious-but-not-really shenanigans.

It’s a farcical, preposterously picaresque and broad play with too much set up and a rushed conclusion. The Brits (think Monty Python to Benny Hill), have a special knack for this kind of silly comedy – the kind that breezes along asking for little of the audience, aims for titters rather than guffaws, and reveals English culture for all its myopic, stiff-upper-lip foibles.

Photo by John Lamb

It’s also the type of script that actors and directors find irresistible. And who can blame them — the men, anyway? The four-man ensemble gets to practice (and practice and practice) their British accents (plus a few other world dialects) while quick-changing into the play’s 25 male and female characters at the drop of hat, or a wig or a mustache or fedora, as required. No wonder Greene’s story has been adapted into this play, a radio play, a movie (directed by George Cukor, no less) and a musical a few years back. If he were still alive, “Travels” would have made a terrific one-man show starring Robin Williams at his maniacal, hyperactive best.

Lindenwood University’s summer repertory theatre, ACT INC’s
production of “Travels With My Aunt,” directed by Emily Jones, provides a
theater experience with a dutiful, earnest exuberance comprising one part “the
old college try” and one part “hey kids, let’s put on a show!” This manly ensemble
adroitly transitions among the play’s characters while keeping the action
moving breezily along.

The strength of this production is in this ensemble, rather
than the four individual actors – Anthony Wininger, Ted Drury, Jake Blonstein
and Timothy Patrick Grumich – who are (to their credit) interchangeable. This
interchangeability at its best is fun to watch, and requires an impressive
range of physicality and improv-like energy. The biggest laugh of the night was
the creation of a men’s restroom, complete with two urinals, using two stacks
of suitcases. At its worst, this interchangeability leaves one with a
linguistic hangover that sounds like four bland, generic degrees of Dame Edna
Everage.

Staging this relatively short one-act in the round was certainly
a highlight. The compass-like octagonal stage was a clear and effective way to
anchor each actor with his trunk filled with props, and enabled each to move
about as the action demanded. The minimal lighting was unobtrusive in the best possible
way and put the emphasis of each scene on the actors’ abilities. Likewise, the
sound design was restrained and tasteful.

Unlike the aunt in the title, this play isn’t aging well or
all that interestingly, which begs the question of why ACT INC has revisited
this script. The jokes about marijuana and sexual promiscuity (and even the
occasional profane language) land rather like quaint quips instead of the edgy bon
mots that they may have been in 1969. Some timing misfires and line flubs
notwithstanding, the obvious talents within ACT INC deserve a better vehicle.
To coin an old advertising slogan, this isn’t Greene done right, it’s merely a
trifle – Greene done “lite.”

Photo by John Lamb “Travels With My Aunt” continues at the J. Scheidegger Center for the Arts, Lindenwood University, June 22-23.

No Mansplaining Allowed – Opera Theatre’s Excellent ‘Rigoletto’ Still Relevant After All These Years

No Mansplaining Allowed – Opera Theatre’s Excellent ‘Rigoletto’ Still Relevant After All These Years

By CB AdamsContributing Writer

In a cultural marketplace that is embracing new operatic
works such as “The Central Park Five” and “The Handmaid’s Tale,” is another
production of Verdi’s venerable chestnut Rigoletto really necessary – or
even relevant?  Opera Theatre of Saint
Louis’ current production of Rigoletto provides a chorus of emphatic
yeses.

Although it can be asserted that the opera canon in general
and Rigoletto in particular is testosteroney (to borrow a line from
“Friends”), misogynistic and seemingly anachronistic in the current #MeToo
cultural climate, OTSL’s production brings to the fore the question, “Who is
the true victim of the machinations of the men in this play?”

The answer in this interpretation is clear: Rigoletto’s own daughter, Gilda. She has lived her short life cloistered in a tight ring of chastity, raised by an overly protective father (or hostage-taker, depending on your point of view), whose nickname is Transgression. She falls in first-love with the duplicitous Duke (dubbed Retribution), whom she meets at her seemingly only contact with the real world – Mass at the local church (another male-dominated institution). The poor girl. Given such options and opposing forces, it’s no wonder she believes self-destruction is the only way to escape this milieu of trickle-down masculinity.

Even before the orchestra tunes up, OTSL’s latest take on Rigoletto
begins to pull the audience members out of their comfort zone. Sitting on a
trunk, center stage in low light, is Rigoletto’s puppet, staring blankly like a
demented Charlie McCarthy dummy, a chubby-cheeked Chucky. He seems to be
saying, “Let the horror begin.”

This conceit by itself would not be enough to carry the
opera. The cast, under the stage direction of Bruno Ravella, who is making his
main season debut, is fully up to the challenge of Verdi’s memorable score and
this production’s challenging, polarizing balance. Roland Wood immerses himself
in the role of Rigoletto, the Duke’s own dummy, as a man resentfully balanced
(or unbalanced, depending on your point of view) between being a
father/manipulator and being manipulated as the Duke’s court jester. Wood effectively
leads the audience to ponder: “Should I blame you or pity you?”

As the Duke, Joshua Wheeker, is a selfish puppeteer
extraordinaire. He does not overplay the indulgent, king-baby aspects of the
role and instead offers a straightforward “what the Duke wants, the Duke gets”
attitude – and to hell with who pays consequences. His short-sighted need for
instant gratification enables the storylines of Rigoletto and Gilda to unravel.
In terms of relevance, this should be familiar to anyone who follows the
current news cycles.

Navigating (or trapped, depending on your point of view) between
a fiercely overprotective father and a hedonistic lover is the wonderful and
wonderfully cast So Young Park, a former Gerdine Young Artist. With seeming
effortlessness, Park wends through her a role that demands she be naïve without
being girlishly gushy (ala Liesl’s “Sixteen Going On Seventeen” in Sound of
Music). Young accomplishes this as well as meshes her performances
seamlessly with Wood, especially in Act II.  

Among the supporting cast, Christian Zaremba, making his
Opera Theatre main season debut, plays Sparafucile, the assassin, with reserve
and respect – admirable considering how easy it would have been to overplay the
part with squinty sliminess. Zaremba’s straightforward, transactional portrayal
facilitates the opera rather than calls too much attention to the role. Also of
note is the horn-dog horde – the male chorus that moves about the opera en
masse, providing light humor, encouragement to the Duke’s predilections (as
only good sycophants can) and locker-room banter.

OTSL’s Rigoletto is set in Paris, where Victor Hugo
set his play, which is the source for this opera. The Francophile-inspired set
design, under the aegis of Alex Eales, is understated, streamlined and
efficiently conveys the essence of each scene. The opening scene keys off a
recognizable Folies Bergere atmosphere and the inn where Sparafucile and his
sister conspire to murder the Duke is distinctly saloon-like in a Wild West
sort of way. On the surface this may seem incongruent, but the sets well within
the opera’s polarizing elements. They provide “just enough” background for the
story.

Like the set design, costume design, by Mark Bouman, does
not break new ground, but neither does it break the flow of the entire opera.
Both serve well the story being told. In Act I’s party scene, the dresses of
the dancing ladies have a pleasing Manet, demimondaines quality. Sparafucile
sports a Driza-Bone-inspired duster that makes him instantly recognizable
regardless of the scene. And Gilda wears dresses – girlish without being girly
– that befit a young lady with a conservative father. Even Gilda’s final
costume, when she is posing as man, is Chaplinesque in a way that makes sense
within this production.

Rigoletto may be one of Verdi’s workhorse operas, but
like all great art, it is open to wide interpretation. Just as Paul Simon
observed that “every generation throws a hero up the pop charts,” every
generation since the premiere in 1851 has produced a Rigoletto befitting
its times. OTSL’s is exceptionally no exception. #GoSeeRigoletto.

“Rigoletto” plays at the Loretto-Hilton Center through June 30. For more information or to purchase tickets, visit www.experienceopera.org

Getting Churched – Black Rep’s ‘Nina Simone: Four Women’ Rages and Praises Its Way Through the Ruins

Getting Churched – Black Rep’s ‘Nina Simone: Four Women’ Rages and Praises Its Way Through the Ruins

By CB AdamsContributing Writer

During a weekend hyper-inflated with entertainments of mass
distraction – in particular, the Game of
Thrones series finale and the St. Louis Blues’ game of Stanley Cup – a
modest-sized audience was invited to engage with a deeper, more troubling, more
pressing and more prescient entertainment. Completing its 42nd
season, the Black Rep presented its production of Nina Simone: Four Women at the Edison Theatre on the Washington
University in St. Louis campus.

Set in the ruins of the 16th Street Baptist
Church in Birmingham after the 1963 bombing that killed four children, the play
earnestly, if unevenly, stands as a monument to the notion that everything old never
stops being new again. Playwright Christina Ham’s mash-up script attempts to
synthesize an array of social issues including, but not limited to, civil
rights, waning traditional religious values, the legacies and injustices of the
Old South and Jim Crow, adoption/abortion issues, culture and cultural
appropriation, white-on-black violence and intergenerational differences toward
sexuality and womanhood – all through the lens of Simone’s prickly personality
and her own artistic, personal and political frustrations.

Ham’s approach to this bomb-blast of issues is to sew its
many subjects into a large quilt rather than delve too deeply into any single patch
or two. In other words, a macro rather than micro approach. That’s a tall
order, especially when combined with a retrospective of Simone’s signature
songs and a presentation that’s equal parts concert, cabaret, revue and jukebox
musical, ala Mama Mia!. Ham’s conceit
seems to be: come for the Simone, stay for the social commentary.

At the heart of the play is one of Simone’s defining songs, “Mississippi Goddam.” And at the heart of that song are the lines, “Just try to do your very best / Stand up be counted with all the rest / For everybody knows about Mississippi goddam.”

This production, ably directed by Ron Himes, embodies that “do your very best” spirit while working through Ham’s something-for-everybody script. The four characters of the title are doing their best in their respective bad situations, each according to her experience, abilities and station in life.

The
four actresses playing those characters are the real strength of this
production. Maybe the conceit should be: come for the Simone, but definitely
stay for the performances of Leah Stewart as Simone, Denise Thimes as Sarah (aka
Auntie), Alex Jay as Sephronia and Camile “Cee” Sharp as Sweet Thing. Stewart
and Thimes make the most of their well-rounded characters. Sharp deserves extra
credit for her yeoman’s effort to animate the borderline one-dimensional
character of prostitute Sweet Thing. Scenic designer Tim Jones’s bombed-out
church set evocatively captures the devastation through which the characters
literally and metaphorically must move.

Impressive, too, and a testament to the strength of the St. Louis theater community, is that Stewart, Thimes and Jay are all natives of the Gateway City. Rounding out this exemplary local talent pool was a near-silent fifth character, the onstage piano accompanist, St. Louis native and musical director Charles Creath.

Cast of “Nina Simone: Four Women” Photo by Philip HamerThe script of Nina Simone: Four Women is too often clichéd (“walk a mile in my shoes”), too often expository in a biopic/Wikipedia sort of way (“It was my first top 10 hit”) and sometimes period-inappropriate (“skin in the game”). Yet, with the exception of a few flubbed lines, the actresses more than compensate for these shortcomings with their snappy timing, true heart and deep authenticity. And they soared and rose above the material individually and collectively performing “Old Jim Crow,” “Brown Baby” and “To Be Young Gifted and Black” and the other well-curated selections from Simone’s songbook.

The play seeks to make connections among the many issues it
touches and attempts to reach an epiphanic conclusion with the four characters
joining together for Simone’s song “Four Women.” The play’s wide-ranging reach
surpasses the ability of this one song to offer a satisfying resolution to the
issues it raises – but perhaps that point. It’s one woman’s (Simone herself) or
each character’s way of navigating a barrage of cultural adversities and finding
some meaning, strength and hope despite these challenges.

For this culmination, the attention instead should return to
“Mississippi Goddam.” Though the lyrics are relatively tame by modern urban
music’s standards, the anger is still palpable, real and relevant. It should
leave the audience realizing it’s not just Mississippi or Alabama goddam, but St.
Louis goddam and, yes, America goddam.

“Nina Simone: Four Women” plays at the Edison Theatre May 15-June 2. For tickets or more information, call the box office at 314-534-3807 or go online attheblackrep.org. A special $20 deal is available on Wednesday nights through the run.

‘Rock of Ages’ – That Other (Dirtier, Louder, Hairier) ’80s Show

‘Rock of Ages’ – That Other (Dirtier, Louder, Hairier) ’80s Show

By CB AdamsContributing Writer

“Rock of Ages” showed up at The Fabulous Fox on its tenth anniversary tour for a three-day run starting March 1. In rock years, that’s…well, pushing 40 years since the soundtrack to our collective youthful heavy petting was transformed into a classic rock heavy rotation playlist.

In jukebox musical time, the two-hour performance shredded the space-time continuum with a party-like experience filled with big hair, bobbing head bobs and plenty of devil’s horns shoved defiantly skyward (by the actors and audience members alike).

There’s an apocryphal anecdote about Bob Dylan from way back in 1966. During a concert at the Royal Albert Hall, a heckler expressed his displeasure at Dylan having gone from acoustic to electric. Dylan reportedly advised the Hawks backing him up to “Play freakin’ loud (only he didn’t say “freakin’”). In an alternate universe, Nigel Tufnel of Spinal Tap fame would have been in the audience that night and taken Bob’s admonition to heart, and in turn counseled Stacee Jaxx and his band, Arsenal, to set the volume in “Rock of Ages” to Spinal Tap’s mythical “11.” A rock ‘n roll daisy chain dream, if ever there was one.

Photo: Jeremy Daniel“Rock of Ages” is the hit machine that keeps on giving. Not only did it earn five Tony Award nominations, including Best Musical, after it opened on Broadway in 2009, it has also been regularly rotated to St. Louis.

There’s no reason to think it won’t be back again, either (“Party on, Garth”). This show is just that much fun, in a “put another dime in the old jukebox, baby” sort of way, if you love – or love making good-natured fun of – the big haired, glammed-up, testosterone-y 80s rock, ala Whitesnake, Twisted Sister, Steve Perry, Foreigner, REO Speedwagon, Bon Jovi and other early-MTV dinosaurs.

One doesn’t see “Rock of Ages” for its trope-filled plot. You know, the one about girl leaves Kansas, meets boy (a wanna-be famous rock star) after being mugged upon arrival Los Angeles, gets a job at The Bourbon Room (a famous rock ‘n roll club), falls into puppy-ish love with boy, who also works at the club, loses boy after hilarious bathroom hook-up with Stacee Jaxx (a really famous rock star), loses her job at The Bourbon Room while the boy does too, reboots her career with new hooker hair and not-so-skillful pole dancing at a gentlemanly Venus Club while boy sells his rocker status for boy-band and/or pizza delivery lucre.

Photo: Jeremy DanielAnd that is just the sub-plot to the father-son Teutonic duo that threatens to demolish The Bourbon Room and its sleazy Sunset Strip brethren to make room for Reagan/Bush-inspired, just-say-no, “clean living” establishments. Of course, by the end, girl gets boy and lives happily ever after in the LA suburbs and The Bourbon Room lives on, along with all those evergreen heavy-metal hits.

What turns this silly plot, which has about as much depth as the philosophical ramifications of Quiet Riot’s “Cum on Feel the Noize,” into a jukebox hero is its combination of self-deprecating, double-down double entendres, meta awareness, pacing as rapid as a Nikki Sixx solo, and a continuously clever interweaving of story and song.

Tying all of these elements together at The Fabulous Fox was the narrator, Lonny, played by a commanding John-Michael Breen, who looked (appropriately)

The big-gunned Anthony Nuccio, as boy-interest Drew, proved more than up to challenge of big-belted songs like “I Wanna Rock” and “Oh Sherrie.” Katie Lamark as Sherri, the girl from Paola, Kansas, captured her character’s yin-yang of being starry-eyed (figuratively) and ball-busting (literally), especially on the songs “Harden My Heart” and “Shadows of the Night.”

Sam Harvey, making his national tour debut as Stacee Jaxx, was seamlessly slinky and sexy or just plain stupid and stoned, depending on the plot’s demands. 

“Here I Go Again,” which closed out the first act, was a performance highlight and obvious audience favorite. The song, with almost the entire cast joining in, exemplified the way “Rock of Ages” can improbably (and successfully) blend a “Glee”-worthy interpretation of a head-banging favorite with jazz hands and wink-wink humor.

To borrow a line from Dan Baird of Georgia Satellite fame, “Rock of Ages” is a love song (to the 80s) for the hearing impaired (i.e. the audience, after the show) with true “rock on” cred.

Photo: Jeremy DanielThe 10th anniversary national tour of ‘Rock of Ages” performed at the Fox Theatre from March 1 to March 3. For tickets, visit Metrotix.com or call 314-534-1111.

The Rat Pack Is Back! – A Nostalgic, Boozy Take on a Starry Night in Vintage Vegas

The Rat Pack Is Back! – A Nostalgic, Boozy Take on a Starry Night in Vintage Vegas

By CB AdamsContributing Writer

The old Bell Systems advertising slogan about long distance service, “…It’s the Next Best Thing To Being There,” could certainly be recycled as the tag line for “The Rat Pack Is Back!” (exclamation point, theirs). Those of us old enough to remember the Bell slogan – including the show’s producer, Dick Feeney, and musical director, Lon Bronson – are old enough to harbor a bit of nostalgia for the classic, Kennedy-era Las Vegas of yore. (Camelot, anyone?)

“Rat Pack,” now on a national tour, reflects the still-glimmering reputation of the vintage 60s Vegas strip when Frank and Company held forth in boozy, raunchy style while belting out the Great American Songbook.

That’s Frank, as in Sinatra, played by Chris Jason, girded by Drew Anthony as Dean Martin and Kenny Jones as Sammy Davis, Jr., as well as Joelle Jenson as a “dumb blonde” Barbie the Bunny character. This show has been around since 1999 and has received continuous facelifts (script and otherwise) ever since. It has been at the Fox numerous times, including this past weekend.The comedic shtick between – and sometimes during – songs was a mash-up of Joey Bishop, Soupy Sales and Jackie Mason. Some of the jokes were oddly topical, such as one about Caitlyn Jenner. The homophobic joke (by today’s standards) was enthusiastically endorsed with hoots and applause after Jones encouraged the audience, “Hey, it’s 1960. Enjoy it while you can.” And they did.

“Rat Pack” is not a concert, but rather a “what if” tribute that
seeks to recreate a sense of those mythical nights at the Sands Hotel. An
earlier version of the show included an opening montage with vintage clips of
the real deals, a feature that was missing in this incarnation. That montage
could have better set the evening’s tone and provided an additional salute to
the fantasy of “being there” at the Sands.

The strength of this show is not that the actors really look like the performers they portray. Anthony as Dino and Jones as Sammy came closest (if you squint), while Jason looked more like Don Draper from “Mad Men” than Sinatra. Nor did it matter that their renditions of classics such as “New York, New York,” “Candy Man” and “That’s Amore” were pitch-perfect, dead-ringers for the originals.

Rather, “Rat Pack” is a testament to the enduring reputations of these performers as well as the strength of our shared American songbook. For many in attendance, the evening’s entertainment was a reminder of a time (hard-to-believe, almost 60 years ago) when Sinatra and his sidekicks, and perhaps much of the audience, were at the top of their respective games.

For those in the audience of more recent vintages, the performance was a primer on the personalities and music of the time. Other than the terrific original recordings readily available, “Rat Pack” may not be the “next best thing to being there,” but it may be helping keep the legacy of that era alive.

“The Rat Pack Is Back!” played at the Fox Theatre Feb. 22-24.

A Kinder, Gentler Scrooge in Nebraska Theatre Caravan’s Fox Show

A Kinder, Gentler Scrooge in Nebraska Theatre Caravan’s Fox Show

By CB Adams
Contributing Writer
We are living in the age of the Christmas-industrial complex. Never before have we had such a wealth of holiday entertainments, from dancing sugar plum fairies to prancing Grinches. The slate of stage, film, television, radio and music options means you can curate a Christmas season experience exactly to your liking.
One franchise rules them all, Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol,” and one character from that novella, Ebenezer Scrooge, stands scowling above the holiday fray, waiting, not for his close-up, but his redemption.
So imagine the challenge faced by Charles Jones, the founder and creator of the Nebraska Theatre Caravan, as he adapted Dickens’ tale for the stage more than 40 years ago. The field of Christmas Carol  interpretations was full even then, including several well-known films starring the likes of George C. Scott, Lionel Barrymore, Alastair Sim, Albert Finney and, ahem, even Jim Backus, to say nothing of later incarnations by Jim Carrey and Patrick Stewart. So there were plenty of ways to present “the wicked old screw.”

According to Jones’ own introduction, “I think of this adaptation and the production of “A Christmas Carol” as a masque. It is not a musical comedy.”
A masque, in case your theater history is a bit rusty, was a form of festive entertainment popular with the royals in 16th- and early 17th-century Europe. Masques were especially popular in Merry Old England, where they were considered among the highest art forms. The Puritans in the 1600s tried their Scroogely best to abolish masques, but they have persevered in one form or another to the present day.
This bit of history provides the key for Jones’ approach. It’s a bit like adapting the story of the Titanic – we all know the ship sinks in the end. The transformation of Scrooge from miser to magnanimous mensch has entered our cultural lexicon and shared imaginations.
There’s a reason this story has resonated from its publication in 1843 as well as a reason that Nebraska Theatre Caravan’s production of Jones’ adaptation has had a successful 40-year run. Although not a “musical comedy” by Jones’ definition, is certainly is music-filled and definitely played to lighter, comedic effect.
There’s nary a bleak Dickensian Victorian moment to be had during the play’s two acts. For instance, the Charity Men, who are usually presented as serious solicitors for charity, enter Scrooge’s place and request a donation with the buffoonery of Lauren and Hardy, though they are toned down in their appearance at the play’s conclusion.
One of the most successful aspects is the show’s pacing. As played by 23 actors in multiple roles, one scene moves swiftly into another – advantageous in our age of short attention spans. Andy Harvey as Scrooge carries the show with a solid supporting cast.
Special effects also move the story along and hold their own in comparison to those in the filmed adaptations, though the Ghost of Christmas Past’s spectral presence seemed, like Scrooge’s bed clothes, a bit frayed around the edges and in need of a refresh.
One of the highlights of this production is the seamless integration of traditional Christmas carols into the action. Especially noteworthy is “Dancing Day” and “Susanni” during the Fezziwig Warehouse scene, “The Holly and the Ivy” and “The Other Night” in the Cratchit home scene, and “The Polka” and “Greensleeves” during the festivities at Fred and Millie’s home.
If this production were a beer, it would be “Scrooge Lite.” Perhaps harkening to its heartland roots, it is a steak and potatoes adaptation – and a good value for the ticket price. This is not a bad thing for its intended, broad audience. It’s simple enough for children to follow along – and laugh along – and fulfilling enough for adults to enjoy the same things.
This production’s longevity is well-deserved and a popular choice – among so many – for some families who make it an annual event.
“A Christmas Carol” played at the Fox Theatre Dec. 6-9.