The Color Purple: Shades of Mediocrity

A couple of weeks ago, I saw the National Tour of The Color Purple at the Kennedy Center in Washington, DC. The highly-promoted tour stars Fantasia (who, from the title page of the program no longer needs her last name, Barino). Even though Fantasia gave a really solid performance that night, it’s taken me a while to write about the show. Honestly, it’s taken me a while to dissect my feelings about it.

To be fair, The Color Purple is not a bad musical—it’s perfectly fine. But in many ways, I think that mediocrity is the show’s downfall.

In the mid 80s, when I was in college at an arts conservatory in North Carolina, just down the road the legendary Stephen Spielberg was filming the screen adaptation of Alice Walker’s masterpiece, The Color Purple. This was particularly important because it meant an opportunity for art school students to appear in the Spielberg film as an extra. There was tremendous buzz on campus, and several of my friends and classmates ended up surviving the editing room floor and are forever immortalized in the film that made Whoopi and Oprah household names. The daily cafeteria chatter was the kind that defines film legends, “Yesterday, Spielberg stopped production for six hours waiting for the perfect cloud formation.”

Who knows whether or not the stories grew over time or even ever happened, but the thought that they might be true made Spielberg a genius in our minds. And the film version of The Color Purple did not disappoint. The film is lush, sweeping, touching, and beautiful. John Williams’ score mapped perfectly to every scene, giving real emotion and desperation to the characters and the setting.

This brings me back to the stage musical version of the same name. The Color Purple, the musical, is not lush and at times is not even melodic. The score is more forgettable and the book is a forced compilation of iconic moments, each reminding us of the same moment in the film. Every memorable line from the movie is here, but the context that strings these moments together is missing.

The worst offense is at the beginning of Act II with the representation of Africa. The scene looks like a moment designed to mock The Lion King—when the dead antelope is carried out, it looks like a Forbidden Broadway parody of The Circle of Life.

As I said, The Color Purple is not a bad show. But it should have been an amazing show. It should have been beautiful and touching. It should have captivated its audience and left not a dry eye in the house. It just didn’t.

I think the thing that disappoints me the most, is that The Color Purple is a marketing gift—with Oprah’s endorsement, the familiarity of the film, and Alice Walker’s powerful story, this show is packing in crowds of people who almost never go to the theatre. Here is an opportunity to introduce non-theatre goers to the magic of the stage—to get them hooked and coming back again and again. Rather than leverage this powerful property by producing a brilliant theatrical event, this audience is deceived into thinking that The Color Purple is theatrical genius. Everyone raves, and Oprah said that it’s good—therefore, it must be. The opportunity to educate, to inspire, and to introduce magic has been wasted.

I had a teacher at that North Carolina arts school who used to say, “There is no room in the arts for mediocrity.” Clearly, she hadn’t yet seen The Color Purple.

REVIEW: The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall

Today, I saw a new production at Washington DC’s Theatre J called The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall. Perhaps the best part of my experience today was the dinner and cocktails with friends that followed at a local restaurant called Logan Tavern – the Buffalo shrimp appetizer was absolutely amazing. The show at Theatre J, on the other hand, was perfectly adequate, but not outstanding.

Logan Tavern’s Buffalo shrimp were tender, spicy, and delicious. The show was a little bland and somewhat flavorless.

The modern comedy focuses on a would-be Broadway musical book writer (Josh Lefkowitz) and his gay, stoner composer friend (Matt Anderson) who set their sights on securing the rights to write the musical version of Woody Allen’s Annie Hall. The humor in the script is lacking and the characters in the show become more stereotype than interesting.

One of the funniest moments in the show was unscripted, and involved an elderly couple in the front row of the audience who dropped their box-office issued hearing devices. They both took turns standing up, fishing around under their seats, complaining in full voice that they couldn’t find their hearing aids. Meanwhile, the actors were struggling to continue the action onstage. Just at that moment, the narrator of the story has a line where he says something like, “Maybe I’m just being an asshole.” When he delivered that line, he broke the magical fourth wall of the stage, and said it DIRECTLY to the disruptive couple. It didn’t help, but it was entertaining, and it warranted a good round of the giggles from me and my fellow theatre-goers.

The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall is not a bad play. This is an average production, with an average cast, an average design, and average direction. I just wish it could borrow some of the spice and intensity of the wonderful Buffalo shrimp at Logan Tavern. We would all have been a little more satisfied.

Arlington’s Signature Theatre often takes risks. Frankly, that’s one of the things that I love about Signature. After almost 15 years as a subscriber, I’ve come to expect that I never quite know WHAT to expect at curtain time.

Sometimes what I see on stage blows me away! Sometimes what I see leaves me wondering why I went in the first place. Sometimes, the people I’m with love the show and I hate it. Sometimes my friends hate it, but I love it.

By the final blackout, we only see what we want to see.

See What I Want to See with music and words by Michael John LaChiusa is currently playing in Signature’s small, intimate theatre, The Ark. This curious show, based on short stories by Japanese writer Ryunosuke Akutagawa (1892 - 1927), consists of two acts that have little to do with each other. If you know the source material, you might understand the nod to Japanese culture that opens each act. If you don’t know the source, you will be left wondering what you’ve seen.

But, that feeling of confusion doesn’t end with the opening. As often happens when two completely different stories are told in a single evening of theatre and performed by the same ensemble, the audience (in effort to make sense of both pieces) subconsciously tries to make connections where there are none. In this case, one is left to wonder if the down on his luck accountant in Act Two, played by Tom Zemon, is related to the very successful businessman played by the same actor in Act One; or the cinema custodian accused of murder in Act One, played by Bobby Smith, has anything to do with the priest who questions his faith in Act Two. These connections—or misconnections—are further complicated by direction that forces the cast to mirror their own movements and staging from act to act.

While the stories are distinctly separate, told in different times (yet overlapping venues), there is a common, albeit loosely woven, theme. At its very core, See What I Want to See is about the power we have to make our own reality—define our truth.

How much does what we say, or do, or feel, define our beliefs? If we say something enough, does it become reality? Where is the line between lie and miracle? See What I Want to See explores exactly that. Unfortunately, it does so somewhat unsuccessfully. After two hours, we are left pondering what is real, or fantasy—what is meant by the staging, the stories, and the songs.

LaChiusa’s musical style is not melodic. It’s harsh, dissonant, and, at times, downright difficult to listen to. But there are shining moments of musical brilliance. The intricate harmonies in Act Two come together to create an unexpectedly lush sound—but only for a moment. All too soon, the music is again in discord and not so pleasing. To complicate, at the performance I saw, the orchestra competed for dominance and the performers were left struggling to be heard.

Overall, the cast excelled. Rachel Zampelli, as Kesa, The Wife, and An Actress, offered a beautiful performance, particularly as An Actress. Her vulnerability and insecurities were extremely well telegraphed. The real star of the show however, was Channez McQuay who does double duty as The Medium and The Aunt. Her two performances were so different, and at times so startling, that she captivated her audience. And in the only show-stopping number of the night, her turn in Act II was a rare treat in this show.

Matt Pearson's performance as The Thief was raw and spot on. His thug-like persona was true to the role, however, his Act Two character, A Reporter, seemed awkward at best. Having seen Pearson in at least two other roles, he seemed horribly miscast and wasted in this show. It almost seemed as if director, Matthew Gardiner, didn’t know what to do with this performer who has such a commanding stage presence.

Even though this show suffers, Signature Theatre and Gardiner should be applauded. This new, adventurous work is what Signature does well. It’s one of the reasons I continue to subscribe. And while these shows sometime work incredibly well (The Studio, ACE, Crave), other times they just don’t (The Lieutenant of Inishmore, and now See What I Want to See).

In this case, the message is both too vague and too heavy-handed, including a gratuitous reference to the tragedies of September 11. While I appreciate the attempt to make the story relevant, what I really wanted was just some good story-telling. I didn’t see it.

See What I Want to See – Words and Music by Michael John LaChiusa, based on short stories by Ryunosuke Akutagawa, as translated by Takashi Kojima, directed by Helen Hayes Award winner Matthew Gardiner. Extended to May 31 at the Signature Theatre, Arlington, VA.

REVIEW: Hell Meets Henry Halfway

There are some shows that arrive with such anticipation that you can barely contain yourself as you watch the calendar click by, leading up to the date shown on your ticket. For those shows, you arrive at the theater early, dutifully read the program notes, and triple check your cell phone to ensure that the ringer is off so that your experience is not muddled by an unfortunate ring or vibration.

Then there are shows that you just don’t care about, but you feel like you should see them anyway. Often, these shows are introduced with fanfare from the producing house, who trumpets the arrival of an imported theatre troupe known for “physical performances that defy easy categorization.”

Ladies and gentlemen! The Woolly Mammoth Theater Company proudly presents: The Philadelphia-based Pig Iron Theatre Company and their Obie Award-winning Hell Meets Henry Halfway!

I was eager to see this production, and when Sunday evening finally rolled around, I was excited enough to arrive at the theater early, read the program notes, and settle in for a fine performance.

I could not have been more disappointed by the reality that soon set in.

Hell Meets Henry Halfway is a bizarre production. I’m not sure what happened, who the characters were, or what exactly it all meant. The two-hour performance featured a cast of over-the-top characters—all seemingly stuck somewhere between a community theatre production of The Musical Comedy Murders of 1940 and a sketch from the Carol Burnett Show.

The cast however, bears little responsibility for this show’s annoying and disjointed style. For the most part, their performances are good – some are even exceptional. Steve Cuiffo, in the role of Dr. Peter Hincz, the mysterious doctor, brings comic timing which borders on genius. Other notables are Gabriel Quinn Bauriedel as Marian Walchak, the not-so-qualified (or athletic) tennis coach, and Sarah Sanford as Maya Okholovska, whose brooding style reminds you every spoiled child turned adult you’ve known.

The actors are not to blame here. The show is simply flawed.

After two confusing hours, (and two hours listening to a methodic thumping that is part of the never-ending sound design), I was left wondering what I had seen, and WHY it was put on a stage in the first place.

And, I had a headache to boot. Thanks Woolly.

Hell Meets Henry Halfway, text by Adriano Shaplin, after Possessed by Witold Gombrowicz, directed by Dan Rothenberg, created and conceived by Pig Iron Theatre Company. The cast includes: Gabriel Quinn Bauriedel, Steve Cuiffo, Bel Garcia, Sarah Sanford, James Sugg, and Dito van Reigersberg. Performances continue through March 1.

Art, Theater, and Marching Bands

One of the best things about living in the Washington, DC area is that there is always something to do, to see, or to experience in downtown DC.

Today was a triple header—we went to see the Lino Tagliapietra exhibit at DC’s Renwick Gallery. The exhibit closes today, so if you didn’t see it, I’m sorry. You really should have. If you are a fan of art glass, you may be familiar with Tagliapietra’s work. He is an Italian artist from Murano, who creates brilliant glass art. His work is absolutely breathtaking, and ordinarily I would encourage you to rush to the Renwick Gallery to see it. Unfortunately, as I mentioned, the exhibit closed today. At the very least, you should check out his work online. It really is stunning.

Getting to the Renwick was a bit more of a challenge than we anticipated. The Renwick is across the street from the White House, and today was a full dress rehearsal for Barack Obama’s Inauguration, including the parade. Streets were closed to traffic. We were able to park the car and wind our way to the Renwick on foot. Just crossing the street proved to be a challenge. There were marching bands, military units, horses and everything you would expect in a parade. The bands played, the soldiers marched, and the horses pranced. Everyone and everything was there, of course except for the new President.

This was as close to the actual Inauguration as I will get. Not because I’m not a Barack Obama fan. Actually, I am a huge fan of our new President. I’m just not a fan of crowds. And even today at the rehearsal of the event, the crowd was enough to make me want to race home. I admit, it was exciting to be part of the activity—even if it was a week or so early. And it was just a rehearsal.
The main event of the day, our primary purpose for venturing downtown, was to see Mike Daisey’s How Theater Failed America currently in performance at the Woolly Mammoth Theatre.

Mike Daisey is a monologist. Last year, he brought his highly successful, If You See Something, Say Something, to the Woolly. The style of his newest monologue is familiar, a single table, a glass of water, and a few pages of notes. And for the two hours that follow his first entrance, Mike Daisey is brilliant.

Much of the advance press signaled that Daisey would skewer the theater as an institution for becoming too commercial and too mainstream, and pointing to the lack of funding as reason for the sad state of American theater. In reality, Daisey offers a glimpse into the world of struggling theaters, and he makes his audience think about their role in it. His commentary is focused more on the flawed process of theater rather than assigning blame. He insightfully explains how theaters, in order to demonstrate value, must also demonstrate growth by increasing audience, producing sure fire hits, and building fantastic new buildings. He explains in detail, that once a new building is erected, the shows become safer in order to maintain the audiences. The only place for the “risky art” is the small black box theater in the basement; not the big, glorious new state of the art theater.

Daisey’s animated style is captivating. The two hours fly by, and he becomes so involved in telling his story, it is nearly impossible to remain a spectator. You feel such a connection to him; it is almost like having a private conversation with him over a few beers after a performance.

The monologue is extremely funny, poignant, evocative, and entertaining. We learn about being a struggling artist, an educator who has too much insight into the unachievable dreams of his student, and we see a moving side of Daisey who shares very personal information about the demons an artist sometimes faces.

Mike Daisey’s How Theater Failed America runs at the Woolly Mammoth until January 18. If you have ever worked in the theater, have had any theater training, support the theater community, or just occasionally go to see a show, you really should see this work. Mike Daisey will help you gain a new perspective of the theater, and you will get to see a master at work.

And on to 2009 – A Theatrical Preview

There are some exciting shows coming up in the first half of 2009. In January, I’ll be commenting on Mike Daisey’s How Theatre Failed America at Woolly Mammoth Theatre. Daisey, a master story teller (who appeared in If You See Something, Say Something at Woolly in 2008) is back with a new monologue. His return is highly anticipated and is likely to be a sold-out run.

The Signature Theatre has three more shows this season, The Little Dog Laughed, See What I Wanna See, and Giant. The Little Dog Laughed, starring the amazing Holly Twyford, is a brand new production following the hit Broadway run. Signature is taking a risk by closing the season with two musicals from the same composer, five time Tony nominee Michael John LaChiusa, best known for The Wild Party, which starred the late Eartha Kitt. Giant is billed as a World Premiere, and See What I Wanna See is listed as a Washington Premiere. Giant is produced with the assistance of the Kennedy Center Fund for New American Plays and is the first of the three original productions resulting from the Shen Family grant to the Signature for the development of new American musicals.

Arena Stage is remounting Crowns, and recently announced an open casting call for the new star of this year’s production. DC audiences love this show, and I’m looking forward to seeing it in the spectacular and historic Lincoln Theatre in DC.

The Kennedy Center has several highly anticipated musicals coming through the Opera House and Eisenhower Theatres. Spring Awakening and The Color Purple will bow in July. Having seen both productions in New York with their original casts, I’m curious to see how these shows travel. However, I’m more curious and eager to see the all new production of Ragtime in May. Ragtime has a captivating story and beautiful score (Journey On and Make Them Hear You are showstoppers). The original production highly acclaimed and celebrated. It will be interesting to see how the show is reinvented (hopefully, it won’t fall victim to the same fate as Signature’s Les Miz).

Other shows on the schedule, to date, include Washington National Opera’s Turnadot and Folger Theater’s Acadia.

Here’s hoping the New Year brings great performances!

Welcome to 2009!

Another year has come and gone. It’s hard to believe that it’s 2009 already.

As one of my new year’s resolutions, I’ve committed to creating a blog to share my thoughts on the DC theatre scene. I try to see just about every production that originates in the metro DC area, as well as most shows that travel through. Throughout the year, I will report on shows that I see, in DC, New York (both on and off Broadway), as well as anything I see when I travel. Occasionally, you might also see a review or comment about other cultural happenings—movies or art shows. But mostly this is about theatre.

But don't expect to see a daily entry. I've created this site as a place to share my opinions of the shows I see. If I don't see anything, you probably won't hear from me. But stay tuned and check back or subscribe.

As a former stage manager, I worked in professional theatre for years. I’m no longer in the biz, which means that now I actually get to go to the theatre. Working in the theatre creates a bit of a dilemma. When you are doing a show, you never get to SEE a show. When you are running eight shows a week, you are working when other shows are in performance. As a theatre professional, free nights or weekends are rare. And when you do have one, the last thing you want to do is sit in a dark theatre. While it is a wonderful life, it certainly has its drawbacks. So, after I grew tired of packing for three seasons at a time, I hung up my headset and moved into the corporate world.

That of course, means that I now have the great opportunity to see great performances and shows. And see shows I do!

I hope that you enjoy my rantings, musings, and reviews of what I see.