[title of show]

I honestly can't think of a better description for the concept behind [title of show], the newest production by Who Wants Cake? at the Ringwald, than the scene in Spaceballs in which the characters (incongruously) pop in the VHS of Spaceballs to spy on what happens in a future scene. But first, they cue up the very part of the movie in which they're watching the movie, forming a picture-in-picture of sorts. One character tries to explain it, and both in real time and on the monitor, he says, "You're looking at now, sir. Everything that happens now, is happening now."

In the same vein, creators Jeff Bowen and Hunter Bell decided to write a musical about writing a musical, starring them and two of their friends (as themselves). So if they say something while writing the show ("Even this?"), if they take their shirts off while preparing for the show (yep), it goes in the show. The original draft was finished in three weeks for submission to a festival. It was a big hit there, and again off-Broadway, and finally enjoyed a run on Broadway, all the while starring them and two of their friends (as themselves). That's not just the history of the musical, that is the musical. Everything that happens now, is happening now.

Click to read more ...

Edward Albee's At Home at the Zoo

The cynic's rule of thumb is that messing with the classics inevitably mars them: prequels, remakes, spin-offs, all part of the system's blatant, artless grab for cash. So what was this cynic's take on mega-famous playwright Edward Albee hanging a new beginning onto his half-century-old primal scream, The Zoo Story? The Abreact's Michigan premiere of Edward Albee's At Home at the Zoo blends the daringly droll with the psychotically unpredictable for an aggressive night of conversation.

In the new first act, entitled Homelife, Peter (Dave Davies) is at home, reading, when he's approached by his wife, Ann (Anne Marie Damman), who announces that they need to talk. In the second act, Peter has relocated to the park, still reading, when he's approached by the transient Jerry (Charles Reynolds), who claims he just wants to talk with someone. The identical frameworks are supported by a mostly open set that encourages duplicated stage pictures and movements, which directors Adam Barnowski and Andrea Smith use liberally to merge the stories of these mirror-opposite relationships into a cohesive whole.

Click to read more ...

Gravity

The year is 1693, and the already-famous scientist and mathematician Isaac Newton (Alex Leydenfrost) is intent as ever on pursuing his work. What his colleague John Locke (Jim Porterfield) doesn't know is that instead of science or math, the great man is trying his hand at the illegal practice of alchemy. In Gravity, the David MacGregor play in its world premiere at the Purple Rose, Newton is scarcely an object at rest, fitfully traversing his Cambridge University suite and laboratory. In a plot that takes liberties with written history, he meets the headstrong widow Brilliana Cavendish (Michelle Mountain), then surprises himself by confiding in her about his true pursuits as their relationship grows. While the story figuratively brews, something is literally cooking in the laboratory oven, changing properties at a glacial pace.

What works in Gravity's favor is its lead actors, under the direction of Guy Sanville. As the overworked Newton, Leydenfrost is solitary, pensive, ruthlessly single-minded, and captivating as he is plagued with moments of weakness. Mountain is too good to be true as Brilliana, more intelligent and forward than centuries-ago women had permission to be. Porterfield's Locke is a smaller role, but he aptly plays the friend who spends too much time supporting and not enough time intervening. My favorite, however, was Newton's professional nemesis, Robert Hooke (Will David Young), who is absolutely the most fun a depraved weasel can be. The smug dressings down Young delivered made me wish he was available for parties. An additional plus is the actors' rich voice work — they have an easy cadence that rises to meet the classically inspired sentence structure. It's a shame, therefore, that the script is so far from Shakespeare.

Click to read more ...

The Smell of the Kill

Sometimes the phrase black comedy is used to describe a play that's sorta funny underneath it all — once you stop to think about it — beyond its dire circumstances. Not so at the Williamston Theatre, where The Smell of the Kill inspires peals of laughter because lives are on the line. Under the direction of Kristine Thatcher, this production is a wonder of a comedy that's also chillingly relatable.

The 90-minute play takes place in a suburban Chicago kitchen, itself a technical marvel. Not only are features like running water and working electrical outlets on display, but it was difficult to tell where set and lighting designer Daniel C. Walker's work ended and Lynn Lammers's scores of props began. No bones about it, this kitchen is better appointed, and possibly more livable, than my own. Remarkable sound design by Ken Faulk used numerous applications of offstage voices and noises that gave a clear impression of the house beyond what was visible. Stage manager Erin K. Snyder has her work cut out for her, gamely recreating the managed chaos of a real home.

Click to read more ...

The Male Intellect: An Oxymoron?

Women and their expectations; men and their shortcomings. Writer and performer Robert Dubac uses an elaborate allegory to repackage this well-worn material into The Male Intellect: An Oxymoron?, now at the Century Theatre.

The show's composition is commendable, making use of a number of layers and frameworks. The reality facing Robert the character is that his fiancée has asked for two weeks' time apart; with their relationship clearly in jeopardy, he needs to determine what she wants to hear before she calls. On stage, as the final minutes of the two weeks run out, Dubac reveals an inner struggle between the left and right hemispheres of the brain (oversimplified as the "male" and "female" halves) as he attempts to tap into his feminine side. He also portrays a handful of characters, all men from Robert's past, to help explain the origins of his flawed understanding of women.

Click to read more ...