"Unnecessary Farce"

Theatre review
"Unnecessary Farce" at Cortland Repertory Theatre
Ithaca Times
July 29, 2009
654 words
"Get Smart"

full text here

Get Smart

Mark Tedeschi

"Unnecessary Farce," by Paul Slade Smith. Directed by Kerby Thompson, with assistant director Corrine Grover. Starring Dustin Charles, Crystal Rona Peterson, Morgan Reis, Mark Bader, Justin Theo Klose, Joshua Murphy, and Erica Livingston. With scenic designer Carl Tallent, costume designer Wendi Zea, lighting designer Kathryn Furst, and sound designer David Hubner.

Ah, the farce. Ribald repartee, spirited slapstick, doors galore. What's not to love? Unnecessary Farce, playing at Cortland Repertory Theatre through this Saturday, has all the ingredients an audience craves in a helping of drama's trustiest genre.

Paul Slade Smith's script focuses on comedy over storytelling, though the action paces fast throughout. Around the peppered-in exposition lies a charming, twisty plot involving espionage, political intrigue, and plenty of bedroom chaos. Director Kerby Thompson - also CRT's producing artistic director - ensures the commotion's precise delivery.

The inventive set, designed by Carl Tallent, mimics a duo of adjacent motel rooms, each with a closet and a bathroom, divided by an invisible wall and adjoined by a door - technically, two - bringing the entry/exit count to a grand total of eight. The organic lighting, designed by Kathryn Furst, equally validates the milieu.

The right-hand room is occupied by Eric Sheridan, a nervous, reticent cop played by a mustachioed Dustin Charles (no stranger to farce at CRT) and his ambitious partner Billie (Crystal Rona Peterson), so excited to be part of an undercover operation that she just had to wear her police uniform. Their mission: capture video evidence of Mayor Meekly (Mark Bader) meeting next door with his accountant, Karen Brown (Morgan Reis), reportedly so he can bribe her to cover up his embezzlement.

Karen is privy to the sting, and her platonic meeting with Eric the previous night sparked an apparently never-lit fuse in her libido. Reis and Charles nail the awkward combination of Karen's newfound sensual energy with Eric's carnal timidity, and the characters spend much of their alone time losing the fight to postpone jumping each other's bones.

The plan faces further complication when Agent Frank steps in. He's head of security for the Mayor and played with bipolar emotion by CRT newcomer (and hopefully future repeat performer) Justin Theo Klose; he's torn between his sense of Town Hall duty and an allegiance to a powerful crime syndicate called the Scottish Clan and its mysterious leader known only as Big Mac.

It gets weirder. The head assassin for the Scottish Clan is nicknamed the Highland Hitman, a menacing moniker compared to his given name: Todd. As Todd, Joshua Murphy, tall and insistent, thickens his Scottish accent on cue, rendering it indecipherable when his character becomes angry or flustered. Billie discovers a knack for decoding Todd's jargon; one translation turns into a long tongue-twister that Peterson delivers flawlessly.

When Todd first appears, he's wearing a sharp suit and sunglasses, but we've already learned of his penchant for carrying out executions in full traditional Scottish garb. When the time comes, costume designer Wendi Zea has him in a kilt, knee socks, a fuzzy headdress, a baggy-sleeved shirt, and a "man purse" - he even dons bagpipes. (Additional recognition goes to Zea for underwear design, as there's quite a lot of disrobing in the show.)

In the second act, we meet the Mayor's wife, Mary Meekly (Erica Livingston, fresh from her "Damn Yankees" stint), a polite old lady combing the motel to locate her husband, who's been catching everyone at the wrong moment. Bader allows Mayor Meekly to live up to his name - earnest and humble, he responds to bedlam with a calm grace.

I have two small grumbles, and one regards the characters' lack of intelligence. Farce characters generally aren't known for their perspicacity, but in this play, their denseness often seems too exploited for Smith's intentions of telling a semi-believable story with credible characters. Similarly, the repeated jokes become tired the more they occur ("That's clan... with a C!"), especially when they deal with sex (e.g. Mayor Meekly's frequent habit of stepping into a room with a struggle occurring on the bed).

But despite the rampant lunacy, Unnecessary Farce is a smart play and an enjoyable diversion. Paul Slade Smith is, for sure, a promising playwright who understands the undeniable necessity of farce.


Crystal Rona Peterson, Joshua Murphy and Justin Klose in the Cortland Repetory Theatre’s production of ‘Unnecessary Farce.’ (Photo provided)

Theatre review
"Damn Yankees!" at Cortland Repertory Theatre
Ithaca Times
July 8, 2009
756 words
"Grand Slam"

full text here

Grand Slam

Mark Tedeschi

"Damn Yankees!," book by George Abbott and Douglas Wallop, music and lyrics by Richard Adler and Jerry Ross. Directed by Jim Bumgardner. Starring Erica Livingston, Jef Canter, Dominick Varney, Peter Carrier, Tom Frye, Meghan Rozak, Robert Finley, Alyson Tolbert. With musical director David Hahn, choreographer Daniel B. Hess, dance captain Jared Tius, scenic designer Jason Bolen, costume designer Wendi Zee, lighting designer Shawn Boyle, and sound designer David Huber.

Every summer, Cortland Rep chooses a "bigger" show as its seasonal centerpiece to run for three weeks instead of the usual two. Last year's The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas and 2007's Fiddler on the Roof were laudable exemplars of consolidation, shrinking the larger-scale musicals just enough to work on the Edward Jones Playhouse stage. This year, they're putting on the 1955 Broadway hit Damn Yankees!, and darned if CRT didn't make the classic seem born to be played in a smaller space. The fickle characters become endearing, the Faustian story feels accessible, and the hammy humor hits home.

In this Jim Bumgardner-directed production, the beer-bellied and bum-kneed Joe Boyd (Jef Canter with a pillow in his shirt) glues himself to an easy chair and shouts at his favorite baseball team on TV (as do his friends in the boisterous opener "Six Months Out of Every Year") while his wife Meg (Erica Livingston) hands him a beer and bemoans his cocoon of preoccupation (a concern for the other wives, too).

After the game, Boyd steps outside - actually, through a wheelable door frame matched by a quick change in lighting, respectively courtesy of Jason Bolen and Shawn Boyle. He makes an offhand comment to a slick-looking salesman, Mr. Applegate (Dominick Varney), about selling his soul if it meant fewer losses for the Washington Senators at the hands of those damn Yankees. Applegate offers him a deal involving a last-minute escape clause and turns him into a fit, 22-year-old baseball wunderkind named Joe Hardy. During the transformation Boyd sings "Goodbye Old Girl" to himself, the song apparently all he needs to justify abruptly and discreetly leaving his wife to fulfill a pipe dream for six months. Nevertheless, he heads to the ballpark, Applegate in tow.

Peter Carrier plays Joe Hardy as modest and earnest, making it easy to like him - plus, he has an excellent voice, evidenced in two duets with Livingston, "A Man Doesn't Know," and later, "Near to You." Hardy meets the Senators after their "Blooper Ballet," a tour de force of music (David Hahn, director), sound (David Huber), lighting, and choreography (Daniel B. Hess). The baseball players pantomime a number of blunder gags with razor-sharp timing and unmissable athleticism - and even some acrobatics.

In the locker room, Coach Van Buren (a spry Tom Frye) leads the Senators in the harmony-laden "Heart," the catchy number wherein the team boasts, "We always lose / but we're laughing 'cause / we've got heart!" Applegate convinces Van Buren to let Hardy try out. Afterward, he's taken to meet Commissioner Welch (Robert Finley, last seen at CRT in "Ten Little Indians") while the crafty local sportswriter, Gloria Thorpe (a zestful Meghan Rozak), comes up with a hook for Hardy's public image: "Shoeless Joe from Hannibal, MO."

As Hardy poses for endorsements (note Bolen's impressive painted set pieces) and carries the Senators closer to the pennant, he can't help missing his wife. Applegate calls upon Hell's signature femme fatale, Lola (Alyson Tolbert), to distract him. She details her experience working for Applegate in "A Little Brains, A Little Talent," a number that showcases Tolbert's excellent dancing capabilities but plays a bit more happy than seductive. Likewise, it's easy to understand Hardy's reluctance to "give in" to her advances in "Whatever Lola Wants (Lola Gets)," as she poses as a naïve coquette with a squeaky, nondescript South American accent - it's even kind of sad when Applegate calls her on overdoing it, saying "They cut that from 'Carmen,' honey." The later Lola/Applegate duet "Two Lost Souls" plays much more comfortably, likely because Lola has admitted she's begun to empathize with Hardy.

Varney, though, never falters. After starring in two farces at CRT (How The Other Half Loves, Leading Ladies) he knows how to work the crowd. He's never sang at CRT before this show, though, and his confident vocals in "Those Were the Good Old Days" prove yet another strength. His comic delivery employs tenacious timing and highlights Applegate's joyful approach to causing trouble.

He also fits right into Zee's sleek costume design, everything from dress shoes to ringmaster cape using a combination of black and crimson. Zee's other colorful costume pieces - striped ties, plaid aprons, baseball uniforms, thick-framed glasses - place you promptly into the early 1950s.

Damn Yankees! runs about two and a half hours, but it contains enough singing, dancing, and comedy to maintain the fun. Fans of the show and first-timers alike should appreciate a version that proves "scaled down" can be a compliment.


The Broadway hit ‘Damn Yankees!’ at the Cortland Repetory Theatre. (Photo provided)

"Johnny Guitar"

Theatre review
"Johnny Guitar" at Cortland Repertory Theatre
The Ithaca Journal
August 29, 2008
711 words
"Cortland Repertory Theatre stages a campy 'Johnny Guitar'"

full text here

Cortland Repertory Theatre stages a campy ‘Johnny Guitar'
By Mark Tedeschi • Special to Cortland Ticket • August 29, 2008

Cortland Repertory Theatre's final production of the summer, “Johnny Guitar,” is unlike anything they've produced this season — and probably unlike anything you've ever seen. Part western shoot-em-up, part romance melodrama, and part musical farce, “Johnny” plays camp about as far as it'll go.

“Johnny Guitar” is based on a 1954 Nicholas Ray film, itself based on a Roy Chanslor novel. The film starred Joan Crawford and was looked at by some critics as a quasi-western with a plot evocative of McCarthyism. The musical version (book by Nicholas van Hoogstaten, music by Martin Silvestri and Joel Higgins, lyrics by Higgins), now showing at CRT, lacks that subtext and instead embraces the silly side of things.

Bert Bernardi, behind last summer's “Great American Trailer Park Musical,” directs a fully committed cast. Chrysten Peddie plays Crawford's part, Vienna, the keeper of a southwestern edge-of-the-town saloon frequented by the undesirables. She, along with her nemesis, cattle rancher Emma Smalls (Megan Rozak), infuse their characters with an exhausting amount of emotional energy. Emma (like Helena to Hermia) is jealous of Vienna because Emma's unrequited love interest, The Dancin' Kid (Jeffrey Victor), openly courts Vienna. Other actors of note include Geoff Lutz playing the wimpy Turkey and Chris Nickerson, Danny Baylock, Matt Vavalle, and Sean Riley in various bit parts.

The title character (Scott Moreau, singing over the offstage Pete Hawley's guitar), a forgotten romance from Vienna's past, isn't the main character (Vienna is), but he does show up and offer his protection — an offer she can't turn down, since The Dancin' Kid and his gang rob the local bank and Emma tries to point the guilt toward Vienna. Johnny and Vienna hide out at the Dancin' Kid's lair and the gangs square off.

“Johnny” is initially surprising in its unique delivery. Peddie, presumably doing her best Crawford-as-Vienna, speaks nearly every line with her fists on her hips and her chin cocked up toward the audience, while Rozak's Emma seems perpetually on the verge of angry tears. You quickly welcome the overgesticulation and hyperenunciation as a comedic style, but taking it to the extreme occasionally feels tired. The play itself is perhaps the shortest of CRT's season, so the approach of excess doesn't overstay.

Jo Winiarski's set also contributes to the camp; the first thing that happens in the play is a large tumbleweed's jerky traversal across the stage via a clearly visible string. Whenever Johnny's name is spoken, it's a big event: “Johnny... Guitar.” and a sign overhead bearing his name lights up. The set also features a bar that doubles as a bank counter and a house's interior facade that, when flipped, serves as an easy exterior.

The costumes in “Johnny Guitar” (designed by Jimmy Johansmeyer) are superb. Emma's crew's black suits, Vienna's white dress, even the Dancin' Kid's bank burglary getup — they're all perfectly befitting for their characters.

“Johnny” is technically sound elsewhere, too: Shawn Boyle's blue-sky lighting complements the rocky orange background, and Joel Pape's sound design is well timed, often for good laugh (for example, horses' hooves clopping a split second before a group walks onstage).

There are plenty of memorable musical moments in “Johnny,” but my favorite would have to be toward the beginning when a few townspeople confront Johnny; he convinces everyone that they “all know the song!” and in unison, they launch into “A Smoke and a Good Cup O'Coffee.” Some other good ones: “Branded a Tramp” and “Old Santa Fe,” sung by Vienna and her cronies; “Welcome Home,” a nice, slower number featuring just Vienna; and “Bad Blood,” a fun, climactic song preceding the final confrontation of Emma and Vienna.

A few moments in “Johnny” seemed out of place. There was a completely inexplicable physical chemistry between Vienna and Emma twice referenced, and a number of phallus jokes that the production could have easily done without. And Bernardi's choreography, while tight in the gunfight scenes, at least once resorts to uninspired goofiness in Johnny's song “Tell Me a Lie.”

Still, the epic rivalry between the two female principals fuels the peculiar telling of a simple, lightweight story. And you've got to love a musical that make fun of itself: “That was good, boys — take five,” says Johnny after one song. Jokes like that one get me every time.

"A Few Good Men"

Theatre review
"A Few Good Men" at Cortland Repertory Theatre
The Ithaca Journal
August 14, 2008
668 words
"Cortland Rep's 'A Few Good Men' features stellar performances"

full text here

Cortland Rep's ‘A Few Good Men' features stellar performances

By Mark Tedeschi • Special to the Journal • August 14, 2008

If you aren't familiar with the courtroom drama “A Few Good Men,” you must at least have heard “You can't handle the truth!”, a catch phrase popularized by Jack Nicholson in the Rob Reiner-directed film version. Nicholson has his own catalogue of memetic utterances, but that's probably because he's choosy about the material he gets paid to verbalize.
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It's not especially hard to come up with a repeatable one-liner (see “You're fired!”) -- but it is rather difficult to consistently pen scripts that actors will chomp ravenously at the bit to earn the privilege to play. Aaron Sorkin does that. When Sorkin wrote “A Few Good Men,” producer David Brown bought the film rights before the play even premiered. Brown signed on a hefty handful of early ‘90s superstars -- but enough of that. The play version is still alive and well at the Edward Jones Playhouse.

Cortland Repertory Theatre's penultimate production of the summer hits all the right notes for a Sorkin brainchild. Bill Kincaid, responsible for last summer's CRT standouts “How the Other Half Loves” and “Almost, Maine,” expertly directs a committed cast in a story that Sorkin based on a true occurrence.

The events transpire in 1986, in several locations in Washington, D.C. and in the U.S. Naval Base in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. There are few, if any, set changes between scenes; Jo Winiarski (“The Great American Trailer Park Musical”) selects the most essential elements (a background barbed wire fence, a few chairs and a table) and cooperates with a sophisticated yellow, white, and blue lighting design (Shawn Boyle, in his CRT debut) to seamlessly yet stylishly shift locations in space and time. And CRT vet Jennifer Paar's costumes, mostly versions of military dress uniforms and fatigues, coupled with everyone's close-cropped haircuts, add to a sense of authenticity in the performances.

Brent Bradley plays Lt. j.g. Daniel Kaffee, a sarcastic son-of-a-famous-lawyer lawyer who, at the entreaty of the brave Lt. Cmdr. Joanne Galloway (Victoria Haynes, undaunted as the show's sole female performer), takes on the defense of two Marines: Pfc. Louden Downey, an earnest simpleton (Parker Pogue), and Lance Cpl. Harold Dawson, a sharp, duty-minded soldier (Jesse Gabbard). They're accused of inadvertently murdering a peer, Pfc. William Santiago (Michael Angelo Morlani), during a “Code Red,” a form of extrajudicial punishment or “disciplinary engagement” routinely performed on someone who falls out of line.

Galloway believes that the order was given by Capt. Matthew Markinson (Michael Kreutz) and Lt. James Kendrick (Brent Bradley), send down the chain by Lt. Col. Nathan Jessep (Kyle Kennedy, in the role Nicholson held in the film). Kaffee enlists the help of Lt. j.g. Sam Weinberg (Kevin Sebastian) to research and prepare. Lt. Jack Ross (Aaron Seeburger) prosecutes while Capt. Alexander Rudolf (Michael F. Hayes) presides. The action bubbles as the trial begins and boils during Jessep's legendary climactic testimony.

The stellar acting and direction in CRT's “A Few Good Men” enables success for Sorkin's handiwork. There are a few inevitable stutters, but they're forgivable considering the breakneck pace at which the actors work. Kennedy's Jessep seems honorable enough at first, but bits of malice and wrath eke their way through until eventually Bradley's Kaffee craftily provokes him into explosion.

Within the first minute of the play, the rat-a-tat dialogue screams of Sorkin's hand. Anyone who's seen (and can stomach; it's not for everyone) “The West Wing” or “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip” knows that he thrives on making light of nearly everything with jokes and joke callbacks, offhand pop culture references, multi-person conversation overlaps, and often-epic monologues (too epic to quote here, and they should be heard, not read). Usually everyone participates in the almost-too-clever back-and-forths, making some characterizations unrealistic -- but it's purely a stylistic liberty.

Sure, he has a religio-political agenda. Sure, his protagonist's most prominently recurring motif is a fondness for Yoo-Hoo. Sorkin makes it worth glazing over any perceivable flaws to enjoy the aesthetic payoff in listening to the words of a thoroughly talented and downright gifted writer.

"The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas"

Theatre review
"The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas" at Cortland Repertory Theatre
The Ithaca Journal
July 25, 2008
718 words
"CRT offers a rollicking 'Best Little Whorehouse in Texas'"

full text here

CRT offers a rollicking ‘Best Little Whorehouse in Texas'

By Mark Tedeschi • Special to The Journal • July 25, 2008

If you're at all apprehensive about seeing “The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas” for the first time, I understand. I had the same sort of concern going into “The Great American Trailer Park Musical” for Cortland Repertory last year — that it could be inappropriate, exploitative, underhanded. (It skirted the line on all three counts, but balanced the precarious with the delightful.)
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Two pieces of advice for those who are on the fence about “Best Little...” this summer: see it anyway, and don't worry. It's fun, it's fair, it's rollicking — and it's even poignant.

Kerby Thompson, CRT's producing artistic director, directs “Best Little...”, a musical comedy involving unabashed adult themes and language, with comprehension and insight. He also acts as the Narrator, stepping into character right after his familiar opening remarks. After the “20 Fans” opening, we're acquainted with the, ahem, gentlewomen of the Chicken Ranch, a legal-but-tolerated, ahem, whorehouse in Texas. It's “A Lil' Ole Bitty Pissant Country Place,” the ladies sing, led by their madam, Mona (J. J. Hobbs).

Hobbs plays a convincing leader as Mona, a tough job considering the talent over which she presides: Meredith Van Scoy and Aisling Halpin as newcomers Angel and Shy; Caitlin Sams as Linda Lou; Stephanie Long as Ruby Rae; Brittany Lewis as Beatrice; Kelly Jakiel as Dawn; Laura Keller as Durla; Marissa Dompe as Ginger; and Mitzi Greshawn Smith as Jewel, the ranch maid. Their voices cohere (Ethan Deppe, musical director) and their dance moves dazzle (Daniel B. Hess, choreographer /assistant director).

The Chicken Ranch, so-called because the women eventually began accepting payment in poultry, is based on a real-life Texas brothel that closed in 1973 as a direct result of the investigative journalism by reporter Marvin Zindler. In “Best Little...”, Zindler provides the basis for Melvin B. Thorpe (Michael Kreutz), an energetic if overzealous bewigged TV personality hell-bent on generating strife.

Thorpe presides as the “Mona” over his own group, The Dogettes. We meet them during “The Watchdog Theme,” an a cappella number sung in the dark with nifty flashlight play (Todd Profitt, lighting design). Once the stage illuminates, their baby-blue plaid-jacket uniforms are revealed as just one part of Jennifer Parr's all-around wonderful costume design.

Thorpe's antics antagonize the town sheriff, Ed Earl Dodd, played with attention-grabbing enthusiasm by Scott Wakefield, also a standout in last year's “Trailer Park Musical.” The two have it out behind a giant TV screen set piece (courtesy of scenic designer Jim Bumgardner) and Dodd lets out a passionate stream of colorful language.

Facing immediate public backlash, Dodd endures the pressure of the Texas Governor, a small role stylishly played by Claus Evans (a terrific Tevye in CRT's “Fiddler on the Roof” last summer). Dodd visits the Ranch, where a manner of relationship between him and Mona is revealed.

Throughout the show, Dodd and Mona serve up their share of often easy-but-amusing one-liners penned by Larry L. King and Peter Masterson. Early on, Mona insists to an up-and-comer: “Men ain't all bad — they just 92 percent bad.” (Possibly true.) Dodd, later, muses to a friend: “Women will drive you crazy if you let ‘em.” (That's also true.)

Some of the memorable songs (written and composed by Carol Hall) in “Best Little...” include “The Sidestep,” a riff on political strategy; “24 Hours of Lovin',” a wah-pedal showcase of Mitzi Greshawn Smith's powerhouse vocals; and “The Aggie Song,” a tour de force of boots-on-hands choreography as well as the source of the “fair” comment I made earlier (but will not elaborate on). The Aggies, all doubling as Thorpe cronies, deserve mention: Tim Fuchs, Kyle Hines, Jefferson McDonald, Myles McHale, Michael Morlani, Parker Pogue, Mark Reeve, and Leigh Wakeford.

Occasionally, the momentum hesitates during numbers like “The Bus From Amarillo” and “Doatsey Mae” (sung by Katherine Proctor), two numbers well-performed in their own right but largely inessential to the story's progress.

The final few songs, all pretty while sad, wind the narrative down to an appropriate melancholy. It's no surprise: The real Chicken Ranch was closed without a bang, and presumably, its inhabitants went their own ways. There's no moral punch in the end — more a suggestion of malaise. “Best Little...” respects its audience; It has loads of laughs and judicious commentary, enough to make the trip to the Edward Jones Playhouse worth it.

“The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas” runs through Saturday, August 2. Visit www.cortlandrep.org or call (800) 427-6160 for information.

"The Mousetrap"

Theatre review
"The Mousetrap" at Cortland Repertory Theatre
The Ithaca Journal
July 11, 2008
535 words
"CRT's 'Mousetrap' features standout performances"

full text here

CRT's ‘Mousetrap' features standout performances

By Mark Tedeschi • Special to Cortland Ticket • July 11, 2008

Agatha Christie's “The Mousetrap,” like “Ten Little Indians” (performed last summer by Cortland Repertory Theatre) boasts an intriguing history.
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In 1947, a BBC station broadcasted a half-hour radio play by Christie called “Three Blind Mice,” a story that borrowed some plot elements from a real-life crime story a few years prior. The play was successful, and Christie wrote it as a short story the following year. In 1952, she wrote a full-length theatre play version called “The Mousetrap,” taking the title from a line in “Hamlet.”

The play began production in London's West End; 23,000 performances later (it is, after all, the longest-running play of all time), Christie's wishes for the short story to remain out of publication in the UK as long as the play continues its run are still in effect.

Productions of “The Mousetrap” elsewhere, though, are permitted — so thankfully, we have Cortland Rep's version to enjoy this summer.

The story is as Christie-an as “Ten Little Indians”: a group of unfamiliar, eclectic (“either unpleasant or odd,” one character comments) folks get stuck in a confined space together, and when they start to get picked off, they guess with about as much certainty as the audience, “whodunit?”

The confined space is the Monkswell Manor hotel in the winter of 1952. We have Mollie and Giles Ralston (Sonya Cooke and Leigh Wakeford), enterprising newcomers to the homey-hotel business; Christopher Wren (Joshua Forcum), a messy-haired young exercise in flamboyance; Mrs. Boyle (Robbeye Lewis), a spoiled-rotten defeatist; Major Metcalf (Gerard Pauwels), a polite army vet; Miss Casewell (Katherine Proctor), a dark-haired standoffish type; Mr. Paravicini (Michael Kreutz), a mustachioed Italian goofball; and Detective Sergeant Trotter (Dustin Charles), a just policeman who tries to parse the affairs himself.

The cast, each at the manor under separate circumstances, learn that peculiar murders have been committed at a nearby residence. The killer is described as sporting a dark overcoat, light scarf, and soft felt hat — an outfit that most of them arrive wearing (thus giving costume designer Jennifer Parr a chance to personify each character into that ensemble). A storm blocks the roads around the hotel, and with cut-off communication to boot, they must fend for themselves once one of them is anonymously killed.

Standout acting performances come from Forcum with his demanding, Tom-Hulce-as-Amadeus-esque glee and giggles and Charles, with his speedy, professional explications of the goings-on.

In the first portion, the slow pace gives the audience a chance to inspect Carl Tallent's attractive set: hardwood floors, oak walls, bookcases with silver tea trays. He leaves plenty of places to block everyone in the Great Hall, either strolling around or sitting on the couches and armchairs.

As lighting designer, Todd Proffitt makes a few interesting choices, including showing a few scenes in complete darkness, relying on Andrew Modansky's well-mixed sound design to relate the events.

Another pice of “The Mousetrap” history involves a ritual of asking the audience not to share the surprise ending. I won't, obviously, but there are several twists, not just one — and it's hard to say that they're unexpected, since the story is designed to have the audience suspecting everyone. But 23,000, remember? Maybe my mom was right: asking nicely really does work

“The Mousetrap” runs at CRT through Saturday, July 19. Visit www.cortlandrep.org for more information.

"Leading Ladies"

Theatre review
"Leading Ladies" at Cortland Repertory Theatre
The Ithaca Journal
June 12, 2008
564 words
"Cortland Rep's 'Leading Ladies' offers plenty of laughs"

full text here

Cortland Rep's ‘Leading Ladies' offers plenty of laughs

By Mark Tedeschi • Special to The Journal • June 26, 2008

Since the dawn of first names with ambiguous gender attachment, cross-dressing has been a staple motif for comedic performance. But when Billy Wilder's “Some Like it Hot” hospitalized filmgoers with uncontrollable laughter in 1934, stories involving men wearing ladies clothing had a new par for the course. (I made up the hospitalization thing, but it could be true — after all, the American Film Institute did name “Some Like it Hot” the funniest movie of all time.)
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In that film, Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis played two guys who pose as women temporarily only to find themselves stuck in their roles — just like Marc Goldhaber and Dominick Varney in Cortland Repertory Theatre's latest chucklefest, “Leading Ladies.”

Goldhaber and Varney respectively play Leo Clark and Jack Gable; they are two down-on-their-luck Shakespeare-trained actors who stumble upon a news article about a woman (Florence Snider, played by Robbeye Lewis) searching for her kin (“Max” and “Steve”), whom she hasn't seen in years, so she can include them in her will. Eventually, Clark and Gable (get it?) discover that Max and Steve are Maxine and Stephanie, but decide to go ahead with the scam anyway; after all, it's a chance for them to exercise their craft in greater depth than ever before.

“Ladies” was written by Ken Ludwig, best known for the Tony Award-winning “Lend Me a Tenor” and directed by Tony Capone, who directed “Ten Little Indians” at CRT last summer. Other cast members include Morgan Reis (Meg Snider, Florence's other niece), Adam Bevlo (Duncan Wooley, Meg's pastor husband), Mark Bader (Doc Myers, Meg's best friend), Kyle Hines (Butch, Doc's son), and Erin Balsar (Audrey, Butch's girlfriend).

The story, set in 1950s York, Pa., contains all the elements you'd expect from a farce with a men-posing-as-women backbone: the con men fall for the women they're fooling, fooled men fall for the “women” they meet, and all hell breaks loose halfway through the second act when everything comes to a head.

The loony story would be less credible if CRT didn't have such sound actors. The lead males exhibit full commitment to their roles, which demand on-the-fly switching in body language, attitude, and voice. Goldhaber, the Curtis to Varney's Lemmon, smooth-talks his way in and, less often, out of sticky situations; director Ludwig has Varney spending a lot of time working the audience (successfully, mind you) by bulging his eyes and squirming — a shame, since his performance during the hilarious “Scenes from Shakespeare” portion confirms his capability for better depth. Reis also deserves mention for her confused but passionate Snider. But the biggest laughs come from Bevlo, whose Pastor Wooley, admitted foreigner to the words “living,” “sex,” and “humor,” frantically frets over being chastised for his skepticism.

To amplify the absurdity, “Ladies” features a great number of elaborate costumes courtesy of Wendy Zea; Clark and Gable make their first disguised appearance after digging into their suitcase of Shakespeare garb and pulling out costumes of Cleopatra and Titania (possibly the most ridiculous choices they could have made, but their hosts are calmed by the age-old device of “They're not weird, they're English.”).

The crafty scenic design (Brian Howard) proves useful, as the pristine Snider mansion turns almost instantly into a stage for Shakespeare plays when needed. And Todd Proffitt's subtle lighting design (watch for the stained glass window reflection), along with Andrew Modansky's sound, help along those transitions.

The dialogue in “Ladies” hits and misses; there are many obligatory jokes, usually tee-hee procreative one-liners (“Is that a chopstick in your pocket?”) and Freudian slips (“I wanted your bust—I mean, your trust”), but there are just as many snippets that embrace the silliness (“He put a telegram in my hand— maybe for a minister, that's foreplay!”).

“Ladies” has its superior moments (Duncan's color coming through during the show's plenty of theatre meta-jokes) and its humdrum ones (What's with that tango scene?), but through it all, it's a crowd-pleaser. There are surprises in the end, to be sure, but the marvelous final few lightning-round scenes are less a twist than a treat, one that gives “Well, nobody's perfect!” a run for its money.

“Leading Ladies” runs at CRT through Saturday, June 28. Visit www.cortlandrep.org for more information.

"8-Track: The Sounds of the 70's"

Theatre review
"8-Track: The Sounds of the 70s" at Cortland Repertory Theatre
The Ithaca Journal
June 12, 2008
564 words
"Cortland Repertory Theatre gets back to the 1970s with energetic ‘8-Track'"

full text here

Cortland Repertory Theatre gets back to the 1970s with energetic ‘8-Track'

By Mark Tedeschi • Special to The Journal • June 12, 2008


Cortland Repertory Theatre's latest production, “8-Track: The Sounds of the 70's,” makes one wonder what musical acts from this decade will be looked at as representative of the era. I'm probably not alone in hoping that my favorite bands will stand the test of time, but that's unlikely. Popular music is engineered to claw its way to the top, and it inevitably will reflect the culture of our decade 30 years from now.

“8-Track,” conceived by Rick Seeber, is a poster-sized snapshot of popular music from the 1970s. Michael Gribbin's arrangement is essentially a two-hour medley of about 50 1970s songs of varying reputability--though the cast delivers them all with equal vigor. The instrumental tracks are pre-recorded, but the vocal performances are live and impassioned. Some songs get spotlighted; others are acknowledged with just a snippet.

Gribbin draws from many musical genres (rock, funk, soul, country, and yes, disco), and there's no story in “8-track,” so the pacing is sometimes shaky. It begins with “Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree,” a song that doesn't have quite the same energy as the show's later numbers like “You Light Up My Life” or “Takin' It to the Streets.” The four cast members (Gabriel Mudd, Crystal Rona Peterson, Katherine Proctor, and Leigh Wakeford) each shout a phrase that supposedly encapsulate the 70s (“Feminism,” “Hedonism,” “What's your sign?” and “Disco!”), announce that a CD of the show is for sale outside, and launch headfirst into the vibrant performance.

Daniel B. Hess directs and choreographs the players in a fast-paced song-and-dance challenge that spans from “We've Only Just Begun” all the way to “Lady Marmalade.” While any audience member is bound to prefer some songs over others, most of the tunes are vocally demanding, and the four talented stars tackle them with zeal. They shine during their solo performances, of which there are several; Mudd's powerful rendition of “My Baby She Wrote Me a Letter” is one of several standouts. Occasionally, vocal effects are added (Don Tindall, sound designer) to enhance the songs' delivery.

Hess and company execute entertaining choreography without being too flashy. “Brick House” brings some stellar energetic dancing, and all the movements in the second-act opener, “One Toke Over the Line,” are performed sitting down.

The set, designed by Sarah Martin and lit by Todd Proffitt, evokes a skating rink (and it is cleverly used as such briefly in the show) with its rainbow-color patterns, rope lights, and glitter. It matches Wendi Zea's many excellent costumes: denim suits, bell-bottoms, huge collars, and plenty of vests.

The amped-up disco-medley portion is saved for the end of the show. The cast barrels nonstop through “I Will Survive,” “Shake Your Booty,” “Get Down Tonight,” “Stayin' Alive,” “YMCA,” and a handful of other standards.

The people who will enjoy “8-Track” the most will almost certainly be those who lived through the era and can relish the barrage of nostalgia. The same people who love to make fun of disco, I'll bet, aren't able to stop themselves from singing along whenever it comes on.

Even though what is popular may not be what is best (Where is the Led Zeppelin? The Pink Floyd? The Who?), it's worth inspecting to remember what the fuss was all about. If Qiana shirts and pet rocks still make you chuckle, then you'll love “8-Track.”

“8-Track: The Sounds of the 70's” will run at the Cortland Repertory Theatre through Saturday, June 14. Visit www.cortlandrep.org or call (800) 427-6160 for tickets or more information.

"The Great American Trailer Park Musical"

Theatre review
"The Great American Trailer Park Musical" for Cortland Repertory Theatre
The Ithaca Journal
August 29, 2007
722 words

"CRT's ‘Trailer Park Musical' offers brash fun"

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CRT's ‘Trailer Park Musical' offers brash fun
By Mark Tedeschi
Special to The Journal

With a title like “The Great American Trailer Park Musical,” you might expect Cortland Repertory Theatre's sixth and final production of the year to be full of shameless stereotypes, offbeat satire and borderline offensive characters delivering a borderline tasteless story.

You'd be right on all counts — but none will stop you from thoroughly enjoying every minute of it.

Nearly as tender as it is funny, “Trailer Park Musical” (directed and choreographed by Bert Bernardi, now in his third CRT season) treads on ground yet unseen in this season's lineup, and the zany, brash spectacle is a fantastic way to close the season.

David Nehls (music and lyrics) and Betsy Kelso (book) wrote “Trailer Park Musical,” which first played at the New York Music Theatre Festival in 2004 and ran Off-Broadway in 2005. Three women narrate the story: Betty (Doreen Barnard), the remarkably versatile leader of the trio; Linoleum or “Lin” (Erica Livingston), the uncouth jokester named for the surface on which she was born; and Pickles (Caitlin Maloney), the dense young woman who always thinks she's pregnant and brags about dating a cosmopolite — “He likes foreign beers and cheese that smells like urine!”

The show is filled with lines like that one; surprisingly, the biggest laughs come from jokes involving vulgarity, and the actors' fearless delivery of what would normally be considered rude is what makes the dialogue so amusing.

“This Side of the Tracks,” the catchy opening number of a show filled with radiant music (Ethan Deppe, music director) sets the scene: Armadillo Acres, a trailer park in Starke, Fla., where, as Lin laments, “You'd trade your left tit for a dip in the pool.” Norbert (Scott Wakefield), a gentle toll collector, tries to convince his agoraphobic wife Jeannie (Katherine Proctor) to step outside of their home by the time they reach their impending 20th anniversary.

Norbert soon finds himself at a strip club, where his new, sultry neighbor, Pippi (Amy Halldin) puts on a show (“The Buck Stops Here”). He inadvertently charms her, and the narrators sing that “It Doesn't Take a Genius” to figure out what happens next: Norbert falls for the vivacious stripper as his unaware wife tries to overcome her fear. Act One closes with the epic, hilarious number, “Storm's A-Brewin',” featuring madcap choreography, shiny costumes (Jimmy Johansmeyer, costume designer), and a disco ball (John Horan, lighting designer).

The second act is shorter, but even more vibrant than the first. “Roadkill” follows Duke (Andy Moss), Pippi's crazy, magic-marker-sniffing ex-boyfriend, from Oklahoma City to Starke. He confronts her, Jeannie confronts Norbert, and in the moving climax, all must “make like a nail and press on.”

Four talented musicians (Ethan Deppe, Dillon Kondor, Shannon Cockbill and Matt Pond) provide instrumentation for the musical numbers. “The Great American TV Show,” a tribute to the tacky Sally/Jenny/Ricki-esque morning talk shows, particularly showcases theirs and the singers' musicianship.

At a few brief moments, the jokes abrade, but not because they offend; there's a bit about flan that goes on too long and an obligatory Britney Spears potshot (come on, she's too easy a target). But that's to say nothing of the performances, which are all airtight. Accents have been consistently well-executed in CRT shows this summer, but the intense, spot-on drawl the actors put on in “Trailer Park Musical” stands out, especially during songs (credit for crispness also goes to Don Tindall's sound design).

The clever look of the show is due in large part to Jo Winiarski's set design, which is filled with crafty props: flowerpots made of tires, an old Chevy grille, Christmas lights, cinder blocks, milk crates and a tiny pink flamingo — possibly a subtle nod to John Waters and the memorable steps he took toward glorifying, in a hyperbolically caricatured way, trailer park lifestyle.

It's that sort of depiction I was initially afraid could make for shaky subject matter, but after “Trailer Park Musical” immediately and humorously addresses the stereotypes, I realized my worry was unwarranted. The characters are content with their lives and not afraid to joke about outsiders' misconceptions.

At its heart, “Trailer Park Musical” is a story about finding happiness in unlikely places; on the surface, it's a comedy highlighting the coarse lifestyle found only in locales like Armadillo Acres.

That solid combination definitely makes CRT's last show worth seeing.

“The Great American Trailer Park Musical” runs at CRT through Saturday. Visit www.cortlandrep.org or call (800) 427-6160 for more information.

"Almost, Maine"

Theatre review
"Almost, Maine" for Cortland Repertory Theatre
The Ithaca Journal
August 16, 2007
674 words

"CRT celebrates love's otherworldly qualities"

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CRT celebrates love's otherworldly qualities
By Mark Tedeschi
Special to The Journal







Cortland Repertory Theatre's “Almost, Maine” begins with a bundled-up couple, Ginette and Pete, surrounded by starlit snowdrifts, sitting on a bench as far apart as they can. Their dialogue is sparse and timid.

In the next scene, a man named East meets a woman named Glory who's wandering around his yard and tells her, “I think I love you.” She asks if that's really true, and he candidly admits, “At first sight, yeah.”

At the outset, these two simple excerpts bare the heart that beats steadily throughout “Almost, Maine”: a celebration of love's ethereality.

Written by John Cariani (best known for playing Motel in the 2004 Broadway revival of “Fiddler on the Roof”) and directed by Bill Kincaid (a five-season CRT vet), “Almost, Maine” consists of 11 vignettes in two acts, interspersed with acoustic musical interludes, thanks to sound designer Don Tindall, over a pantomiming couple's up-and-down relationship as they rearrange Jim Bumgardner's scenery. Each scene, beginning at 9 p.m. in an unorganized township in Northern Maine known as “Almost,” offers ruminations on love and the expansive list of related topics: friendship, dating, marriage, breaking up, alcohol, shooting stars and misplaced footwear.

There are only six players in the production, counting the faceless scene-changers Gregory Trimmer and Lindsey Zaroogian. The other actors — Molly Pope, Colin Wasmund, Dana Bennison, and Dustin Charles — can't hide their eagerness to tackle the unique opportunity of playing several different characters in the same show; they explore the varied dynamics that come with different couplings. (That includes an unexpected same-sex pairing in a light piece that involves literally “falling” in love.) The acting is credible all-around — including the “jeezum crow” Maine accents — but Charles' natural consistency gives an air of gravity to potentially tacky lines like “I go away so I can know where I am for a second.”

Some of the other vignettes depict a woman (Pope) fascinated with a man (Wasmund) who can't feel physical pain; another woman (Bennison) who dumps colorful pillowcases on her boyfriend's (Charles's) floor and repeatedly demands, “All the love I gave to you? I want it back!”; a man who faces scolding from his wife (Charles and Bennison again) for mistakenly wishing on a planet instead of a star; a woman (Bennison) who returns to her ex's (Wasmund's) house to answer his years-old and two snowboarding buddies (Pope and Charles) who begin to confront the fact that their feelings for each other may be more than platonic.

Most of these stories are blithe, at least at first glance, but some of them end in sheer heartbreak. Seconds before each impending reconciliation, whether whimsical or weighty, the emerald flicker of aurora borealis appears in the background, courtesy of John Horan's excellent lighting design. In the outdoor scenes, the blues bouncing off piles of snow combined with Jimmy Johnsmeyer's sweater-and-parka costumes had me, once the show ended, reaching for a jacket that wasn't there.

A few minor quibbles: some of the 0shorts' endings finish too melodramatic for the amount of character development a vignette allows, and although the actors deliver their lines crisply, the dialogue is occasionally hit-or-miss.

Cariani frequently uses repetition for comedic effect, but with that technique, there can be a fine line between effective and tiring.

Those misfires are on the surface; the beauty of “Almost, Maine” lies deeper.

The stories relish in awkwardness (“There's so much sky here!” followed by “Used to be a potato farm.”), absurdity (“Ironing boards are the opposite of God.”), and nuance (about a hidden-picture painting: “You gotta try not to look at it. You gotta trick it.”).

All are qualities of love that benefit from a subtle but complex investigation; “Almost, Maine” offers it in addition to its outer shell of joyful jocularity.

Seeing “Almost, Maine” will indeed make a good date, but that certainly doesn't restrict its enjoyability. The pieces are so authentic, if you do see it with someone special, you might find that the ensuing conversation could fit right into the show as a final vignette.

“Almost, Maine” runs through Aug 18. For more information, go to www.cortlandrep.org.

"Fiddler on the Roof"

Theatre review
"Fiddler on the Roof" for Cortland Repertory Theatre
The Ithaca Journal
July 27, 2007
703 words

"Cortland Rep offers intimate version of 'Fiddler on the Roof'"

full text here

Cortland Rep offers intimate version of ‘Fiddler on the Roof'
By Mark Tedeschi
Special to Cortland Ticket







In 1894, Jewish author Sholom Aleichem wrote a series of stories about a Russian milkman named Tevye. Aleichem's most famous story, “Tevye and his Daughters,” inspired an adaptation called “Fiddler on the Roof” by the team of Joseph Stein (playwright), Sheldon Harnick (lyricist) and Jerry Bock (composer).

It played on Broadway for more than 3,000 performances (the first musical to do so), generated a well-known film version in 1971 and has since enjoyed countless revival shows all over the world.

This summer the show finds a home in Central New York, and from now through Aug. 4, Cortland Repertory Theater will be tricking its audience — “Fiddler on the Roof” seems too grandiose for the modestly sized Edward Jones Playhouse, but the touching story is microcosmic enough that you might even think it's played better in a smaller venue.

Tevye, performed with gusto by Claus Evans, is the narrator, lead character, breadwinner of his family and father to five daughters (guess which of those is the hardest feat). He explains at the beginning what life is like for the inhabitants of a 1905 Russian shtetl; plainly and proudly, he says, “We stay because Anatevka is our home.”

The rest of the cast files in for the opening number, “Tradition,” where we learn the specific roles of Papas, Mamas, Sons, and Daughters as per Jewish custom. We also immediately see how attentively director/choreographer Jim Bumgardner uses set designer Carl Tallent's visually snug (and richly brown) space.

Tevye's jokester demeanor and neighborly familiarity lightens what must have been quite testing hardships for Jewish families under Tsarist regime. But he's a genial man and a caring father; the plot focuses on his three eldest daughters and the men they love — men that put Tevye's sense of tradition in check.

Tzeitel (Lindsay Zaroogian), the oldest, falls for a cartoonish young tailor named Motel (Gregory Trimmer), against the counsel of the nosy, kibitzing matchmaker, Yente (Suzan Perry). Meanwhile, Lazar Wolf the butcher (a wonderful moniker, isn't it?), played by Ted Nappi, asks Tevye for Tzeitel's hand in marriage; Tevye pontificates, decides that security supersedes age disparity, and accepts. The nearby bar patrons offer a toast in the form of “To Life,” a song featuring a catchy chorus and some notable Barynya footwork.

Tevye relents to Tzeitel's plea not to force her to marry Lazar, and he accepts her betrothal to Motel. The haunting but beautiful classic “Sunrise, Sunset” precedes their wedding reception, where everyone is in high spirits — even Lazar. Some authentic bottle dancing wows the crowd — then, perhaps too quickly, Lazar has a change of heart and snaps at Tevye.

A traveled young radical (Perchik, played by Nicholas Palazzo) attempts to alleviate the tension by grabbing his secret love and Tevye's second oldest daughter, Hodel (Catherine Lena Stephani, consistently boasting a powerful singing voice), for a dance. Everyone balks at the broken taboo until they cave and join in. Soon, Russian occupants, led by the Constable (Mark Bader), Fyedka (Liam Cronin), and Sasha (Jefferson McDonald, also dance captain) step in and crash the wedding.

In the second act, Tevye gives his blessing to Hodel to seek out Perchik, who's been arrested in Siberia. However, Tevye's tsuris puts him at the end of his rope when the middle daughter, Chava (Ephie Aardema), elopes with Fyedka, a gentile. He laments via a heartbreaking song, “Chavelah,” and later treads on a thematic line between blind faith and contentment.

Although poignant, CRT's production isn't perfect; some beards look too fake, “Miracle of Miracles” is a bit schmaltzy and on opening night there were a few trips over the wordier portions of dialogue. Also, some actors might have practiced their Yiddish pronunciation more, as it often suggests on-the-spot gibberish.

Despite the script's initially flat exposition (“Tzeitel, you're the oldest.”), its witticisms (“May the authorities itch in places they can't reach!”) and subtleties (Lazar would be much easier to disregard if he weren't such a nice guy) qualify it as first-rate. All the elements — counting Patrick Young's music direction, John Horan's lighting design (watch for the slow change during “Sabbath Prayer”), Jimmy Johansmeyer's costumes, and Michael J. Speach, Jr.'s sound design — pay captivating respect to this timeless tale.

"Ten Little Indians"

Theatre Review
"Ten Little Indians" for Cortland Repertory Theatre
The Ithaca Journal
July 12, 2007
624 words

"'Ten Little Indians' finds strength in anxiety"

full text here

‘Ten Little Indians' finds strength in anxiety
Cortland Repertory Theatre's production a stylish take on Agatha Christie tale
By Mark Tedeschi
Special to Cortland Ticket

Nearly half of Agatha Christie's works have been published under two or more different titles, but none has had an identity crisis quite like her best-selling novel — we in the U.S. know it as “And Then There Were None.” When it was first published, the book was called “Ten Little Niggers”; thankfully, the racial epithet was not an important part of the plot, so it was replaced with a somewhat less aggressive blanket term. Christie believed the dark story needed some cheering up on stage, so the tone of her script for the play differs considerably from that of her novel. Cortland Repertory Theatre's “Ten Little Indians” is a well-cast, light and stylish incarnation of the classic, oft-imitated tale.

In the summer of 1940, 10 seemingly random guests are amassed at a house on an island off the coast of Devon, England, by an unseen host known only as Mr. U.N. Owen. A recorded voice informs them of a trait they have in common: They're all murderers. After the guests start dying per the nursery rhyme “Ten Little Indians,” they realize that someone among them must be responsible for the goings-on.

Tony Capone, a CRT acting vet from “Bye Bye Birdie” in 2002, directs the eclectic, age-appropriate cast. From the outset, we're bombarded with quick-snap character introductions like the buoyant Phillip Lombard (Scott Lee Williams), the take-charge Sir Lawrence Wargrave (Dale J. Young), and the multi-faced William Blore (David Lapkin). The tension doesn't really start percolating until Mr. Owen's butler, Rogers (Tim Mollen) and Mrs. Owen's secretary, Vera Claythorne (Victoria Haynes), admit that they can't confirm whether the Owens even exist.

Standout performances come from Suzan Perry, who channels the bitter-tongue disgruntlement of Judi Dench's angrier roles to play bible-clutching Emily Brent (“Young people nowadays behave in the most disgusting fashion!”), and Robert Finley as General Mackenzie, a cane-wielding golden-ager who lets out a sad monologue about discovering his wife's unfaithfulness.

Often there are six or seven actors on stage at a time, and surprisingly their chemistry is quite good during commotions when several people are moving and speaking at once. There's always a place for them in the lush set, thanks to scenic designer Sarah Martin and always an opportunity for someone to sneak away one of the “Little Indians” that sit on a shelf in the corner and are discreetly subtracted along with their human counterparts.

Jason Read's lighting design deserves applause; the six scenes are set at different parts of the day, and the lighting underscores the mood with clever technique. The electricity seems to flicker just the right amount for eeriness during a thunderstorm, and the beauty of a sunrise radiating from the doors at center stage set the third act with a (false?) sense of contentment.

Christie's script exchanges the novel's gloominess with a lightheartedness that sometimes makes for uncertainty; funny quips (“I think the joys of living on an island are rather overrated”) in the same context as melodrama (“A hypodermic syringe... the modern bee sting!”) feels jarring. The strength of “Indians” still lies in its amplification of anxiety — in the beginning, each character sugarcoats what crime he or she has done only to woefully confesses to wrongdoing later on — but amidst all the joking, the series of twists toward the end border on farcical.

But who am I to pick at Christie's style? Her prolific and hugely successful body of work has made an unmistakable impact in the crime fiction genre. “Indians” would have had an entirely different ambiance if the play ended exactly as the book did (don't worry, that's not giving anything away). Brent reprimands Lombard: “You should be ashamed of yourself for such levity!” Maybe there, Christie was chuckling to herself.

“Ten Little Indians” runs at CRT through July 14. Visit www.cortlandrep.org for more information.

Mark Tedeschi is an Ithaca College graduate.

"How the Other Half Loves"

Theatre Review
"How the Other Half Loves" for Cortland Repertory Theatre
The Ithaca Journal
June 27, 2007
611 Words

"CRT's 'How the Other Half Loves' plays with setting"

full text here

CRT's ‘How the Other Half Loves' plays with setting
By Mark Tedeschi
Special to The Journal



Six characters, three couples, suspicious spouses, mistaken identities.

A familiar formula, right? Add two houses in the same space, two nights at the same time, and for good measure, a flying pot of soup. Prolific playwright Alan Ayck-bourn understands the word “play” on a level all his own.

“How the Other Half Loves,” Cortland Repertory Theatre's latest production, sounds extremely complicated on paper, but Ayckbourn's masterfully subtle writing and the actors' brilliant comic timing, under the precise direction of Bill Kincaid (now in his fifth season at CRT), quickly yank the audience into the story and its complex concept.

“Loves” opens with two married couples in the 1970s pacing around a house decorated with furniture split in half — a different style on each side — courtesy of scenic designer Jo Winiarski. Frank Foster, an absentminded, mustachioed businessman played by Brian Runbeck, jogs around the abode, failing to pick up on his bored wife Fiona's (Stephanie Monsour-Nixdorf) obvious lies about her late-night whereabouts. Meanwhile, the vociferous Teresa Phillips (Jill Donnelly) and her wiseacre husband Bob (Dustin Charles) have a spat over a range of woes from Bob's late-night whereabouts to who should clean their recently prune-covered son.

That the couples don't hear or see each other may confuse initially, but the milieu solidifies after a telephone conversation between Frank and Bob: The two homes are transposed on top of each other.

Once he has the audience settled, Ayckbourn ups the ante. The Fosters and the Phillipses each invite the same couple to dinner on consecutive nights, and both nights occur on stage simultaneously. The Detweilers — ever-panicked William (Dominick Varney) and charmingly naïve Mary (Corrine Grover) — instantly change back and forth from feigned sophistication to terrified confusion. The chaos escalates and erupts, and the third act (back to only one day) consists mostly of Frank's painfully funny attempt at refereeing reconciliation.

Varney and Grover face a unique challenge in their flick-of-a-switch emotional ping-pong, but all six actors do a spectacular job at un-learning the basics of their craft. It's no easy feat for an actor to see or hear something on stage, hold back from reacting, and still recognize the cues. That task coupled with paying attention to audience response make for a pretty difficult endeavor. The actors in “Loves” pace their comedy with extraordinary coordination and cooperation.

Praise for the performances shouldn't detract from the look of the show, either. The kitschy art on the walls, the green-and-tan striped carpet, and the “shared” furniture create a fun space for the characters to play in (even the orange vacuum cleaner looks '70s). And in lieu of scouring vintage clothing shops for worn-out period garb, costume designer Jennifer Paar opted to make virtually all of the costumes herself; her crisp creations are fitting as well as impressive.

“Loves” was a hit at its original staging in London, but after some dialogue Americanization, the Broadway version attained only a mediocre run. Kincaid decided to give the characters back their British accents (they never falter, by the way), making the dialogue sound richer and more organic.

Attempting to give marital advice, Frank declares, “At times like this, I say to myself, ‘Frank, it's better than nothing.'” That's about as deep as anyone digs into the subtext of lifeless marriages, and it's a good thing.

The play doesn't forego its joy for the sake of gratuitous sentimentality, and in the end, the repentances are genuine and the merriment retained.

With the endearing characters, sharp parallels and overlaps, and a couple of excellent meta-references, Ayckbourn and the CRT company sustain all the hilarity of a well-executed farce with the exciting bonus of an imaginative presentation.

Mark Tedeschi graduated from Ithaca College this May with a degree in cinema and photography.