Henry IV, Part 2

Ashland, Oregon
at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival

Henry IV, Part 2

By William Shakespeare
Directed by Carl Cofield 

Scene from Henry IV, Part 2

Daniel Jose Molina as Prince Hal. Photo by OSF/Jenny Graham.

This production is unique in my Ashland experience. Not in a good way. At all.

The Festival is allowing an actor to go onstage who does not know his lines and cannot read them from the script he’s holding on a clipboard.

It is bizarrely unbelievable that this nationally-known repertory theater has hired an actor for a single role which he cannot do. And, they have left him in the role, ruining the play for audiences and destroying the show for the other cast members.

Unfortunately, G. Valmont Thomas, who was originally cast as Falstaff, has not been able to perform since right after opening in early July. OSF decided to cast former Love Boat bartender Ted Lange as the replacement Falstaff, bypassing understudy Tyrone Wilson. According to reports from several company members, Lange was so bad in that pivotal role that the actors demanded that Wilson be made the permanent Falstaff. OSF management agreed, and Lange was given Wilson’s assignment as Northumberland, Snare, and Warwick.

Ted Lange as Issac Washington on the Love Boat

Ted Lange as Issac Washington on the Love Boat. Photo: Wikipedia

These three characters are not major, but are often on the stage moving the story along. Except, Lange is inept and cannot get through a single paragraph of dialogue without screwing up the timing, emphasis, or completely forgetting his lines. So, instead of helping the narrative move, Lange is constantly taking the audience out of the moment and disrupting the rhythm and sense of story.

When we saw the performance the third week of August, Lange should have had a month to learn his part. Lange was in his third performance. He doesn’t have any other assignment at OSF, and the people he’s playing aren’t verbose. But, Lange messes up the cadence and makes the show feel junior high school-ish from the first moment he’s on stage. He’s unable to get through his first scene without misspeaking and forgetting words. [8/27/17 – Bill Rauch generously wrote me about this blog and corrected my original statement that Lange had a month to learn his part when I saw the performance.  Bill informed me that I saw Lange’s third appearance in the roles.]

After the initial appearance Lange often shows up on stage with a clipboard so he can read from the script to get through his speeches. But, he cannot even read his role without skipping lines and sounding weird.

Lange is around too much to allow any momentum in the show. The performance a waste of audience time and a waste of the tremendous talent elsewhere on stage.

Tyrone Wilson feels completely in charge and comfortable as Falstaff. Daniel Jose Medina as Prince Hal does a fine job,  and Jeff King (Henry IV) has excellent moments. Robin Goodrin Nordli has a scene stealing moment, Robert Vincent Frank is a memorable Bardolph, Kimberly Scott is regally rebellious, and, well, all the other actors are the excellent, talented people we have become accustomed to at OSF.

Lange is so bad that the other good acting doesn’t matter. Instead of getting engrossed in the suppression of the rebellion or the maturing of Prince Hal, we kept dreading the next appearance of Lange. When King Henry IV calls out for Lord Warwick to join him, I really thought of standing up up and shouting, “Oh, God. Not Warwick! Anyone but Warwick!” But, I didn’t, and Warwick came on, clipboard in hand, and fumbled through the next scene.

OSF’s response to Lange’s inability to perform is to schedule frequent rehearsals for the company that are supposed to continue until a couple weeks before the show’s closing. Seriously. Think of the cost in money and time to keep Lange in the role. And, so far, the extra rehearsals are not working.

We have heard that Bill Rauch picked Lange because he wanted to keep the ethnic balance of the characters and cast. I don’t know if that’s true, but if it is, that impulse strikes me as patronizing. And, the continued reliance on Lange feels stunningly stupid.

Even if you decide that it’s necessary in a Shakespeare history play to replace one African American actor with another, why pick an LA television actor? Even if all African American company members are completely booked, reach out to an alumnus or a local college actor. Alum Kyle Hayden is in town for other business, for God’s sake. I bet Kyle would be off-book and a fine Warwick inside a week.

Ted Lange must feel awful. He looks sharp on stage. He is bright and animated. He’s directed and won awards (see his Wikipedia page). He’s probably a nice guy.

But at this stage of his career, he is not a capable stage actor. OSF is doing a disservice to him, to the cast, and the audience by allowing him to continue in performance after performance.

While Lange is in the show, Henry IV, Part 2 is unwatchable. Turn your tickets back in.

Play rating:  No Syntaxes. Play Rating 0 out of 5.

By |2017-08-27T09:58:12-07:00August 22, 2017|osf, plays|0 Comments

Priscilla, Queen of the Desert: The Musical

Eureka Theater, 215 Jackson St., San Francisco
at Theatre Rhinoceros

Priscilla, Queen of the Desert
The Musical
By Stephan Elliott and Allan Scott
Directed by John Fisher

Darryl V. Jones* as Bernadette, Charles Peoples III as Adam, Rudy Guerrero* as Tick and the Company in PRISCILLA, QUEEN OF THE DESERT, directed by John Fisher. A Theatre Rhinoceros Production at the Eureka Theatre, Photo by David Wilson.

Photo by David Wilson, Theatre Rhinoceros

The more I think about this production, the better I like it. And, I left the theater damn happy to begin with!

The musical Priscilla follows the basic story of the original movie and adds in about every disco/pop hit of the late 70’s and 80’s in a supremely fun, colorful, and fast moving montage that makes the 2 1/2 hours running time go too quickly.

Theatre Rhinoceros executes perfectly. There’s pop, acting, razzle-dazzle, music, and emotion. The singing is good++, the choreography spectacular, and the staging top notch. There is a surplus of enthusiasm and good feeling, and that glow gets us focusing on the positives and ignoring imperfections. So, the costumes are eye-catching (if not perfectly fitted).

The huge cast of 14 (plus three alternating youngsters who share the role of Benji) has strong acting and musical ability. You’re treated to a engaging show, not just a campy, over-the-top extravaganza. Each actor successfully walks the tightrope that keeps them entertaining and in character while NOT falling into farce or tawdry caricature.

 Rudy Guerrero* as Tick, Charles Peoples III as Adam, and Darryl V. Jones* as Bernadette in PRISCILLA, QUEEN OF THE DESERT

Rudy Guerrero* as Tick, Charles Peoples III as Adam, and Darryl V. Jones* as Bernadette

The main characters, divas, minor characters, … everyone! has spotlight moments and makes the most of them. Okay, there’s a minor character or two who were “enthusiastic”, but that attitude and at least moderate ability just made the show more Priscilla-like to me.

Minorly flawed, but damn happy, 100%-effort is how Priscilla should be presented, in my world. In fact, when I heard of how glitzy the New York production was, I felt that we were seeing a better version. Priscilla is about a pick-up drag show in the out Outback of Australia. Production values are not what’s important. In New York there was a major tour bus on stage, apparently. At the Rhino we had a big, fun prop bus that was a better Priscilla than any modern metal Greyhound monstrosity would be. In New York they changed the road signs from “Kangaroos Ahead” or “Wombat Crossing” to things like “Deer Crossing”.  That’s what I was told, anyway.

Overall, the Rhino production felt right. It was absolutely entertaining. It made me grin insanely, clap along, and root for our hero, heroine, and even the obnoxious foil. There were show-stopping moments (how did they do that pingpong ball scene?) and masterclass scenes.

I wouldn’t have wanted them to change anything. There was a perfection in this performance that embraced its slight imperfections.

Thank you, Theatre Rhinoceros for putting together this 5 out of 5 stars (well, Syntax dachshund heads, and not stars, really!) production!

By |2017-06-29T09:22:38-07:00June 29, 2017|plays|0 Comments

UniSon

Ashland, Oregon
at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival
Poet and Apprentice :: photo by OSF

Steven Sapp (Poet), Asia Mark (Apprentice)
photo from OSF

UniSon

A new musical by UNIVERSES
Inspired by August Wilson’s Poetry
In association with Constanza Romero

WORLD PREMIERE

UniSon is a brief, brilliant, shotgun wedding between poetry and drama, lubricated into position with just the right amount, and right style, of original music.

UNIVERSES and collaborators pulled off a transformation. Wilson’s original poetry, supplemented by UNIVERSES verses, are used as the dialogue in a coherent, sensible, sensitive narrative.

No longer just words, even vivid words, the views and observations in poems are given context and life by 7 Terrors from the dark parts of the mind of a fictional poet. The Poet, a doppelganger for August Wilson, is the focus of the play and its main character. Those Terrors reveal secret, unsanitized parts of the revered poet’s life.

The set and projections are strokes of genius. The stage is furnished cleanly allowing key elements of the action to grab as much attention as possible. Meanwhile, the multiple projection screens are the best use of that technology that I have seen. They are front-and-center, key to the movement of the story. Sometimes providing the written words of the poet, sometimes displaying appropriate icons, and sometimes providing simple elegance. Always spot on.

The play begins with the poetic words of August Wilson projected, and the dialogue opens with Steven Sapp (the Poet) artistically dispensing bombastic wisdom to Asia Mark (his Apprentice). He bludgeons his assistant with insight. A few pages of heavy Meaningful commentary go by before we wind up at the poet’s funeral and will reading. He bequeaths everything to the Apprentice on the condition that when she locates his trunk of private poems she destroy the contents.

Of course, she doesn’t destroy, but opens, the Poet’s box, unleashing the Terrors. This all happens within the first 10 minutes of the production, but the introduction felt a bit draggy. Maybe I was just worried that the entire 90 minutes was going to be as disconnected and lofty (tending toward pretension) as the first few scenes.

But, my fears of boredom were dispelled by the first spotlighted Terror, Terror #3, played by Kevin Kenerly. Physical energy, depth, emotion took over the stage as Kenerly revealed suppressed worries of the Poet, sounding perfect using the type of verses that had sounded too high minded and ethereal just a minute ago.

It turns out that Kenerly was just the first of 7 master class dialogues unleashed by each Terror in succession. The vignettes illuminate the torments hidden inside the Poet. Together they create a vivid view of a private man.

The acting could not have been better, nor could the work have been better designed. Each character had at least one spotlight moment that built — or revealed — an essential part of the Poet. Each actor made the most of what was written for them and added movement, voice, and feeling. Sapp, Mark, Kenerly were completely right. So were Christiana Clark (Terror #1/Seamstress), William Ruiz (Terror #2/Butcher), Rodney Gardiner (Terror #4/Black Smith), Mildred Ruiz-Sapp (Terror #5/Hunter), Yvette Monique Clark (Terror #6:/Momma), and Jonathan Luke Stevens (Terror #7/Soldier).

Each character, each actor, had seriously impressive scenes. Together the scenes built a seriously impressive story.

And, you keep wondering. How much are the poems, the dialogue, the fears really August Wilson on August Wilson? How close is the whole story to his life? How much of the material did Constanza Romero, Wilson’s widow, provide from Wilson’s own trunk and give to this production? How could she let the verses go public and not destroy the poems, if Wilson’s will mandated that destruction? Thank God she didn’t.

I enthusiastically recommend UniSon as a play, a performance, as poetry, as art. I’d also change a few things. The initial scenes setting up the opening of the Terror trunk are too long and self-important. The audience can get the idea sooner,  and the Poet’s stabs of pain foretelling his imminent death are unneeded, or at least weirdly executed.

Then at the will reading we were told that the Apprentice was given the estate on the condition that she burned the contents of the trunk. She didn’t. Nothing happened. The Poet didn’t say anything releasing her from that bond, and the estate didn’t go away. So, I felt like you showed me a gun in Act I and never fired it.

Finally, I am very pleased that the actual performance did not convey the situation described in the Playbill: “… the Apprentice opens the trunk, accidently pulling the Poet from the afterlife.” Nothing in what I saw made the trunk opening a cosmic bar to the afterlife or anything. I am glad I didn’t have to worry about getting the Poet to heaven or hell and could just learn about his life. Please, creative team, do not pick up the tired storyline in a rewrite!

UniSon is a thrill, a triumph, a collaborative win. Even with its few rough edges it rates 5 Stars out of 5.

By |2017-04-25T13:08:59-07:00April 25, 2017|osf, plays|0 Comments

Hannah and the Dread Gazebo

Ashland, Oregon
at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival
Hannah and the Dread Gazebo

Hannah and the Dread Gazebo :: Photo OSF

Hannah and the Dread Gazebo
by  Jiehae Park
WORLD PREMIERE

At least half of the audience has a wonderful time seeing a fun show with amusing characters. But, make no mistake about what’s amusing: Asian stereotypes speaking pigeon English while committing cultural faux pas that annoy the very “American” 20-something children of the butt of the jokes.

2017 audiences would not put up with a performance whose entertainment value hinged on older African Americans portrayed as lazy Stepin Fetchit’s. That racism would not be considered amusing.

But, apparently it’s still okay to anchor an evening’s laughs on over-emotional, bicycle riding, odd-speaking Asians. It’s especially okay when the play is written by person of Korean heritage.

You can examine stereotypes, make them amusing, and still treat the characters with respect. Last year’s Vietgone! played off the cultural divide of immigrant Asian generations. Vietgone! worked to tell the story of the now-older, immigrant generation, integrating the Old-World myths into a unified family history that that story’s playwright shared with audiences with love, respect, and… yes… humor. (I still remember fondly the Ninja motorcycle fight!)

But, in Hannah, there is no cultural reconciliation. Instead, it’s all about the title character. Quirky-acting Grandmother, Mother, and Dad exist only for Hannah’s self-absorbed attempt to connect to her family and cultural heritage. Over-the-top caricatures come and go as Hannah makes meaning of her family and centuries of Korean heritage… all in the two weeks she has allowed for this revelation, or, if you prefer, in the 90-minute running time of the play. She never seems to catch on to what Dad or anyone else is about unless the storyline also involves her. Korean stuff remains alien and laugh-inducing to the end.

Beyond the racism, the play is simply poorly constructed and written.

It’s another one of those plays so loaded with Symbolism and Meaning that you know you’re a boob for not appreciating the greatness of it all. I confess I struggled. I tried to add meaning to the thin, often-repeated, poorly detailed story of a bear and a tiger. That gem had so much importance, and so much of that importance remains lost on me.

Then there are the great moments of Magical Realism — or of something. One favorite is the dropping of a severed bloody foot into Mother’s hands when she is in a dream scene on a roof. Of course that foot drop gets a laugh because it’s such an absurd piece of physical comedy. But, I am also sure that the oversized bleeding prop had much deep meaning that I need to be educated on. Unfortunately, it was just one of so many MR moments that I really didn’t appreciate fully.

There is an entire semester, if not academic year, that explores the reason for the magpie, rock, and why the females in this particular family have a “wish”.  Pretentious hogwash.

Sean Jones

Sean Jones

I also need to complain about casting. There are many lines where Sean Jones (Dang, Hannah’s brother) talks about being disoriented in Seoul because everyone looks just like him, so Asian. Well, all the cast in Hannah does look Asian and has Asian surnames, except for Sean.  The mismatch between the physical character and his lines is disconcerting.  Sean is tall, dark, hairy, and doesn’t have discernibly Asian features (whatever they are). When he bemoans how everyone in Korea looks just like him, you want to see his DNA test to see where Ancestry.com says he really comes from. (In a panel discussion, he explained that he is half Japanese.)

Of course, Sean does an admirable job acting in the role. It’s not his fault that his looks don’t match the script. And, all the other actors are just fine, too. My unhappiness has nothing to do with the onstage talent or the technical aspects of the show.

Finally, let me assure you that although I get only a “C” on the symbolism test, I have an inkling that the play is about Hannah coming to understand her heritage, getting her mother through a depression, and about the family in general. But, Hannah doesn’t do a great job of growing. And, Hannah’s quest has nothing to do why the audience is having a good time. Her search is a cover to allow the racist core to masquerade as art.

Simply, the audience enjoys the performance because of the witty, snarky anti-Asian cartoons that are the foundation of this 90-minute travesty.

I am disappointed, and say Hannah rates   Rating 1 out of 5 Syntaxes.

By |2017-04-23T12:54:51-07:00April 23, 2017|osf, plays|0 Comments

Henry IV, Part One

Ashland, Oregon
at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival
Henry IV, Part I with Daniel Molina

Henry IV, Part I :: photo by OSF

Henry IV, Part I
by William Shakespeare

Writing about a performance you saw two months ago gives the “review” a different perspective. I have been slammed and until now unable to spend an hour or so detailing my thoughts of the plays I saw opening weekend. So now I remember only the more important parts of the time I spent in the theater. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it will result in shorter and snappier commentary!

What I don’t clearly remember about Henry IV, I is why I didn’t leave the Thomas Theater a raving fan of the production. I recall that it was a very, very good, solid, and credible experience. But, I didn’t feel I’d experienced a revelation.

Now when I tell others about the evening, I am all praises. Strange?

Daniel Molina (Prince Hal) feels like a genuine rebellious, thoughtless young adult who realistically grows to understand his responsibilities… while at the same time being still willing to shirk his duties late in the play. Molina is more subtle and naturally slackerly than other Prince Hal’s I’ve seen.  His Hal is a fit for 2017.

The East Cheap scenes work as real-life happenings and not just as the mandatory comic relief that Shakespeare writes in to amuse us stinkards in the pit. Hal’s playmates are are as genuine-feeling as he is in their self-centered hedonism.

G. Valmont Thomas (Falstaff) is both physical and intricate — a really good job.  Michele Mais (Mistress Quickly) is a happy, slutty force of nature, and the other slum dwellers feel like real pranksters gone bad.

I will complain about the blocking in bar scenes. My seat in the corner of first row and a few other seats around the house were too close to the action. The actors would have been fine sitting and drinking where they were, if I hadn’t needed to put my legs somewhere. And, I don’t mean I wanted to stretch my legs out, I just needed to put them on the floor in front of me. As it was, I turned sideways to avoid disaster.  I saw the opening show, and I don’t know if the space is still a problem. But, I spent way too much time worrying about whether the scenery was going to roll over my foot or whether I was going to trip a passing actor.

But, back to the good stuff.  Jeff King was superb as Henry IV. His simultaneous struggle with — and belief in — Prince Hal were transparent and logical. I felt like I was watching a family and not an important Shakespeare history play. King felt consistent, realistic, and every bit the man who righteously deposed Richard II in the prior chapter of the saga.

I also liked the treatment of the gender-blind casting. I appreciated the switch in nouns when women were cast in key roles. Talking about “your aunt” instead of “uncle” and using “her” instead of “him” just seemed more natural and required one less bit of identification and translation for the audience.

The overall set design was clean and spacious (even if a bit too roomy for the actors and cramped for me). I liked how the action centered in different areas and moved around the room.  Costumes, lighting, and other crafts were all good.

Talking about the play now, applauding so many of the pieces, I realize that all the components are excellent. Still, there is no spark that takes you completely out of the moment and shows you something you never realized before.

Maybe at three hours it needed tightening for our Twitter-addicted brains. A few less lines about the battles and bloodlines, maybe snappier delivery, or something.

As it is, Henry IV, Part I is definitely quality and credible. Worth seeing.

Still it’s only  Ozdachs Rating: 4 Syntaxes out of 5.

By |2017-04-23T17:10:02-07:00April 22, 2017|osf, plays|0 Comments
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