When being a professional matters

I’ve likely said this in earlier posts or elsewhere, but in my not so humble opinion, Northville’s Tipping Point Theatre ranks among the area’s top professional theaters when it comes to consistently producing shows of the highest quality. Under the leadership of producing artistic director James Kuhl, I know before walking into the theater that the following expectations will be met in full: The show will be well cast and expertly staged; all of the technical elements will be first rate; the house staff will be friendly and courteous; its longtime beloved stage manager will once again avoid the eye of my camera; and I’ll have a very entertaining evening.

That was certainly true of the performance of “A Comedy of Tenors” by Ken Ludwig and directed by Angie Kane Ferrante that I attended last week.

It’s what I learned after the performance that impressed me even more!

“A Comedy of Tenors” is your typical door-slamming farce, with pretty much each of the familiar accouterments that comes with the genre. So I knew to expect a love-triangle or two and a series of mistaken identities and other mishaps – which means it’s the type of show Tipping Point does well, and one its audiences seem to love.

It’s also a breathtakingly fast-paced show, and with this particular genre, it means entrances and exits must be made very quickly, as must changes from one costume to another. There’s no time to screw up or slow down.

As anticipated, all went well throughout the performance. Not a single miscue was noticed. But after the performance I heard that the actor playing world-famous opera star Tito Merelli, Richard Marlatt, was not feeling well that night. Without giving much away – and hence, not requiring a spoiler alert – it’s a major role, and a difficult and juicy one at that for an actor of Marlatt’s caliber.

Yet not once did I ever get the feeling Marlatt was giving less than 100 percent. He seemed to be at the top of his game (and having a blast, quite frankly) from the moment of his first entrance through his final bow at show’s end.

So, too, was everyone around him – especially the always wonderful Sarab Kamoo who plays his beautiful and loving wife, Maria, with an equal amount of Italian fire and fury. They were wonderful together.

Because split-second timing is so important to comedies such as this, anything less from Marlatt would have been detrimental to the show. (Even more so would have been an understudy filling in for him!) But being a professional actor means you give it your all despite whatever adversity is placed before you – and that’s exactly what he did. And as a result, his Saturday night audience was treated to yet another laugh-filled night of theater at Tipping Point.

As I fully anticipated.

(As an aside, last weekend was an unexpected “Dave Davies weekend” for me, as on Friday evening I saw a show he directed, on Saturday a show he was in, and on Monday a show for which he did some voiceovers. He seems to be the busiest thespian in town right now, and deservedly so!)

SHOW DETAILS: “A Comedy of Tenors runs through Dec. 23. For complete show information, CLICK HERE!

Richard Marlatt, Sarab Kamoo
Hope Shangle, Nick Yocum

The Mighty Hicks returns (and he's excellent)

This past television season, one of the things I looked forward to as I watched “Detroiters” – the weekly sitcom created by Detroit improv favorites Tim Robinson and Sam Richardson – was to see which familiar faces would show up in each episode. Other than the very funny Mort Crim – yes, he showed a side of himself local TV news viewers never knew existed - one face appeared more than any other, that of improviser Quintin Hicks. I’ve been a fan of his work, if my aging memory is correct, since his days with The Second City, and to see him behind the bar interacting with his old pals at their favorite watering hole always brought a smile to my face. And a wish: that he’d return to the stage with yet another follow-up to “Fish Dinner,” his 2011 original show at Planet Ant Theatre that earned both him and director Dave Davies a Wilde Award for their efforts.

In his review of the production, critic John Quinn wrote, “'Fish Dinner' is a series of monologues by oddball characters sprung from Hicks’s fertile imagination. But don’t be surprised if you run across someone you know. The characters may be over the top, but they’re firmly anchored in reality. The individuality Hicks brings to his ‘cast’ is deeper than just changing a costume or donning a wig. The characters take on a life of their own as the actor disappears – one of the best of experiences for audience and performer alike. It’s one of the hallmarks of the genre.”

After seeing the production myself, I whole-heartedly agreed with his assessment.

Sequels followed in 2013 and 2016, and when I heard that a fourth was on the drawing board, I was thrilled. And so what did I think of “Fish Dinner 4: Thanksgiving” that I attended this past Friday night at the Ant’s Black Box Theatre?

Damn, Hicks knows how to serve a tasty evening of live theater!

Quintin Hicks. Photo courtesy of Planet Ant

Just like its predecessors, “Fish Dinner 4” is a series of monologues delivered by what initially appear to be random, quirky characters. But as the production flows along, the genius of Hicks’ creativity begins to shine, as a detailed tapestry of seemingly unrelated people, objects and events weave together to create an interconnected whole. Nothing happens by mere chance; every action and every character is but part of a much bigger, more beautiful picture – even that of a squirrel in search of its next meal.

What’s more, favorite characters from past shows make return visits, as Hicks grows, expands, updates and possibly concludes their stories (although I suspect aging wrestler The Mighty Quinn could make a come-back at some point).

And because of how carefully Hicks constructs his characters, the audience comes to care about them. We can identify with them, or laugh with them (and never at them). As critic Quinn said, Hicks thrives at creating life’s oddball characters, but he imbues them with heart, dignity and wisdom. And he does so with a gentleness that proves how much he loves and respects them.

As a result, the audience does, too!

Not all of the show is scripted, however. Part of the charm of the “Fish Dinner” series is how Hicks relates to and interacts with his audience – right from the very start. With a wealth of improv experience, Hicks is quite at home talking directly to individuals in the audience and coaxing them into participating in a scene. And because anything can happen under such circumstances – and generally will – Hicks is adept at “going with the flow” and seeing where the interactions take him. These are often among the highlights of the performance.

The Bottom Line: So while I absolutely loved every minute of “Fish Dinner 4” – including the appearance of the angelic Mikey Brown in once scene and video cameos of other familiar faces in another – I left with one regret. Rumors say that this is the last in the “Fish Dinner” series. I, for one, certainly hope not, as each and every visit is a warm reminder of how one uber-creative artist, one insightful director and a team of talented technicians can create such a unique and charming world the likes of which we rarely see.

Therefore, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that Hicks and Davies will return yet again to serve us another scrumptious meal – this time including my favorite character of all, the Bear! (I just had to work that in there, Quintin!)

Unfortunately, “Fish Dinner 4: Thanksgiving” closes Saturday, Nov. 24. The production is the second of two shows on the schedule. The other is “Quickening,” an original comedy about the secret behind Detroit’s most famous mortgage company. Show details can be found HERE:

Bailey and Payton and Jacokes, oh my!

Anytime you put Joe Bailey and Richard Payton on stage together, one can expect comedic mayhem to break out. And when you add Suzy Jacokes into the mix – well, you get “Clue on stage” at The Ringwald Theatre in Ferndale, which runs through November 5.

Bailey – The Ringwald’s founding artistic director – and Payton have appeared on stage together so many times that they work like a well-oiled, laugh-generating machine. One only has to glance at the other – a warning sign, to be sure – and a comedic melt-down of epic proportions is sure to follow.

And that’s what happened more than once at this past Saturday night’s performance of the riotous comedy adapted from the screenplay by Jonathan Lynn.

Now, it’s a theatrical legend that the second performance of any run is generally a let-down from the night before; that all the anticipation and pent-up energy generated throughout the rehearsal process is expelled on opening night with little left to power the show the following night.

That certainly wasn’t the case with this production. That’s partly because director Bryan Lark puts his actors through such a vigorously draining pace from start to finish that it’s easy to believe the cast will shed a collective 900 gallons of sweat at the very least throughout the run of the show.

But it’s also because Bailey and Payton took advantage of both their love of one-upmanship and a few goofs to such a degree that I suspect most in the nearly packed audience couldn’t have cared less that a few lines of dialogue were flubbed or props didn’t end up where they were supposed to be.

Instead, we laughed our butts off. And when Jacokes chimed in – she, too, gets that certain gleam in her eye and sly grin on her face when inspiration is about to hit – it became obvious we were watching masters of their craft take the show to an unanticipatedly high level of comedic entertainment.

If there’s a comparison to be made, Saturday night’s performance was like watching an episode of “The Carol Burnett Show” when Harvey Korman, Tim Conway and Carol went off script and the results were hilarious. Yes, The Ringwald Trio were that good!

Also good – no, great, actually – was Donny Riedel, who plays Wadsworth the butler who serves as the show’s ringleader. In “Clue,” an oddball group of people are invited to a dinner party thrown by the mysterious Mr. Boddy. Once there, they learn they all have one thing in common – and that’s when the bodies start dropping. Riedel’s is a masterful performance, one in which every nuance of his character is so thoroughly examined, explored and expelled at such a high-octane level that one expects him to physically and emotionally collapse long before show’s end.

The Bottom Line: So while some nitpickers may find fault with actors who have some fun when things go awry on stage or when one simply looks at another and hilarity ensues, at The Ringwald that means one thing: We’re about to have an even better time than we initially anticipated.

For complete show details, CLICK HERE!

Donny Riedel

What I Love

I love plays that surprise me.

I love playwrights like Lauren Gunderson who take theatergoers on a journey they don’t expect and couldn’t foresee. I love directors like Krista Schafer Ewbank who have a vision for a script like “Ada and the Engine” and execute it with precision and care.

I love actresses like Sarah Hawkins who create such a glorious and vibrant character as Ada Lovelace that her facial expressions alone add several layers to her already-deep complexity. I love actors like Lindel Salow who is his co-star’s equal in telling Charles Babbage’s story through a careful glance here, a brief gesture there and perfectly shaded words and thoughts throughout.

I love actors like Kez Settle, Joshua R. Brown, Cynthia Szczesny and Matthew Wallace who fully support the production through expertly developed performances.

I love it when top-notch designers such as Harley Miah, Eric Niece and Cheryl Zemke come together to create theatrical magic. And I love it when Open Book Theatre in Trenton once again not only meets but surpasses my already-high expectations for a night out at the theater.

The Bottom Line: And I’d love it more if houses were filled for this weekend's final performances.

For complete show details: CLICK HERE!

Sarah Hawkins

Who will YOU believe?

There’s no way Adriane Galea could have known 17 months ago that the script she chose to open Outvisible Theatre Company’s 2018-19 season would be so timely that one could understandably suspect it was sneaked into the schedule to take advantage of the heat generated by the latest news cycle. But the universe works in strange and occasionally miraculous ways, and so the producing artistic director’s decision all those months ago to present the world premiere of Jeff Stolzer’s “Unsportsmanlike Conduct” while Americans are choosing sides in our latest political quagmire can be chalked up to a fortuitous act of serendipity that stamps the production with a “must-see” label as it grapples with a subject that threatens to tear apart an already fractious country.

Written about six years ago after a series of high-profile sexual assault cases caught his attention, Stolzer’s story opens as a young woman wakes up in the bed of a high-profile football star who brought her back to his hotel room after she approached him in a bar following his appearance at a fundraiser the night before. From there, the playwright – in a manner you’d expect of a trial lawyer – begins unfolding the aftermath of that fateful night. And he does so in a way that “we the audience” become “we the jury” – with the first half of the play detailing the morning after and what leads to a charge of rape, and concluding with the court testimonies of Kaylie and Noah.

Jeremy Kucharek and Danielle Wright

Who’s guilty and who’s not is never revealed –and that’s the genius of Stolzer’s concept. Instead, he first gives us insight into his characters’ characters as they go about their one-and-only morning together. Then, in what could be described as the play’s third act (the show runs 70 minutes without intermission), we observe for the first time through their individual testimonies what happened on the infamous night in question.

But is that what we’re truly seeing?

As in most – if not all – cases in which there are no witnesses and little proof-positive corroborating evidence, “we the jury” must make our decisions based on the details we are provided. But as their “he said/she said” testimonies unfold, two things become evidently clear: Each is trying to shape their story in the most positive light; and both aren’t totally truthful.

So who’s right and who’s wrong? What’s true and what’s not? What’s a jurist to do?

Talk. Think. And vigorously debate – which is what we Americans should be doing as the Kavanagh-Supreme Court fiasco plays out. And while there was no talk-back following the opening night performance, I did overhear theatergoers reacting to what they had seen – some whispered in hushed tones – and that led me to believe Stolzer’s evil plan to stimulate a much-needed discussion one performance at a time is succeeding.

And that’s a good thing.

About the production

Danielle Wright and Jeremy Kucharek

Although the above paragraphs provide a very high-level analysis of Stolzer’s script, I focus mostly on its overall theme and the concept he used to tell his story. What I did not do is dig into the nitty gritty of the script; that is, I did not provide any in-depth analysis of it, such as whether or not his dialogue rings true, or how successful he is at creating realistic and believable characters.

I also didn’t discuss the production itself.

There’s a reason for all of that.

It’s called “conflict of interest” – and that’s what prevents me from actually talking in detail about “Unsportsmanlike Conduct.”

How? Why? Because I was part of the process that helped Galea decide to produce and direct the script – and as a member of the American Theatre Critics Association, I believe that disqualifies me as an objective critic of the work, even in a setting such as this.

Back in April 2017, Stolzer was one of five authors whose work was produced as part of Outvisible’s first-ever Detroit New Works Festival, and I was honored to be one of the small team of judges she asked for feedback. As such, I attended all five staged readings and offered verbal commentary at the festival to both the audience at large and privately to Galea. In addition, I also provided individual written feedback to each of the authors. Plus, I was in full agreement that of the scripts given a reading, Stolzer’s was ready for production with little or no additional work needed. (It also helped it was the one Galea really, really wanted to direct herself!)

So while I suspect nothing I contributed made a bit of a difference in the end result, I must refrain from offering any additional commentary about the show other than what’s above and in The Bottom Line below.

The Bottom Line: A timely and thought-provoking show that is guaranteed to generate much needed discussion – heated and otherwise.

“Unsportsmanlike Conduct” continues through Oct. 7. For complete details, CLICK HERE!

Danielle Wright and Jeremy Kucharek

Edited for clarity Oct. 6, 2018

An affecting journey

While many (if not most) plays strive to generate a reaction from its audience, none has been so affecting in recent memory as Kickshaw Theatre’s season opener, “Milvotchkee, Visconsin.” And for many, I suspect, it will hit way too close to home for comfort.

That was certainly case for my friend who accompanied me to the performance.

The oddly titled “Milvotchkee, Visconsin” (which will make total sense as the plot unfolds) tells the story of a woman’s descent into dementia (likely Alzheimer’s disease) vividly told from her point of view. A mother and long-time tour guide, Molly finds that she can no longer remember the detailed facts behind the rather unusual park at which she’s worked for many years. And as her story unfolds, that’s not all she doesn’t remember.

Anyone who’s ever watched as a family member, loved one or friend slipped away as a result of a dementia-related disease will likely nod their heads in quiet acknowledgement as Molly’s world slowly slips away. It’s a frustrating experience, not just for her daughter, son and others with whom she must interact, but also for Molly herself. Especially for Molly.

Michael Hays, Nancy Elizabeth Kammer

And that’s what playwright Laura Jacqmin’s unorthodox approach to the subject matter excels at revealing. Subtitled “a comedy about a tragedy,” Jacqmin presents her story as seen through the eyes and deteriorating mental state of Molly herself. As such, the audience observes what transpires in Molly’s life as interpreted by a brain no longer anchored in reality. Hence, her mental state becomes the result of a hole in her head caused by lightning, while her children interact with her in rather unflattering ways.

It’s the disease, then, that is telling the story, not Molly. And it’s not a happy or hopeful one.

Luckily, though, it’s a rather well staged and acted one. In conceiving her production, director Lynn Lammers embraced the odd-ball nature of the script, yet maintained within her concept a sense of realism to the world inside Molly’s head.

As such, you almost want to smack her son and daughter (played so well by Aral Gribble and Sonja Marquis) for how poorly they seem to treat their mother. And you begin to wonder why the family would allow such a quack of a doctor (brilliantly played by Dave Davies) to treat their mother. But then you remember: That’s how Molly interprets their actions and behavior; we’re not privy to what was really said and done.

Although additional fine character work is provided by Michael Hays and Brenda Lane, the focal point of the show is Molly. If you don’t believe she’s experiencing a breakdown in her mental faculties, the show falls apart. Simply put: Nancy Elizabeth Kammer nails it.

And I think that’s what disturbed my friend most on opening night. What Molly revealed through Kammer’s spot-on facial expressions, tone of voice and behavior mirrored those of his parent who’s been living with dementia for a handful of years. It’s been tough for him, and this night at the theater was not what he expected. (I knew he was troubled by the show when he didn’t want to stay after and visit with one of his favorite actresses.)

However, I think he’d agree that Kickshaw’s season opener is a powerful one. Just come prepared for an experience all of us – especially those of us getting up in years – may face in the not-so-distant future. It just won’t be as humorous or well executed.

The bottom line: I went in to the show knowing nothing about it – I didn’t read the press release beforehand – and left impressed by the care and creativity the author, director, technicians and actors put into presenting this most difficult subject.

“Milvotchkee, Visconsin,” which runs through Oct. 7, is presented through the generous support of Glacier Hills Senior Living Community and Saint Joseph Mercy Health System. Also participating are Michigan Alzheimer’s Disease Center and Alzheimer’s Association. For complete show details, CLICK HERE!

Brenda Lane, Dave Davies, Nancy Elizabeth Kammer

All photos by Sean Carter Photography

Not so lost at Slipstream

As I posted on Facebook last night, I was at the Friday evening performance of “Lost in 3 Pines” at Ferndale’s Slipstream Theatre Initiative, which is playwright Maxim Vinogradov’s second script to win the prestigious Hopwood Award and the Dennis McIntyre Prize from the University of Michigan, where he currently double majors in English and film, and minors in playwriting. (Given the tough competition he was up against, winning one of those awards is amazing enough; winning both twice is stunning.)

So on the way home, my guest – who frequently joins me in my theater travels and who especially loves Slipstream – asked me, “So…what are you going to say about this one?”

“I haven’t a clue,” I replied.

As we drove back to my house, he said he was on the fence about the production, mostly because he hadn’t figured out how all the pieces fit together. “I just didn’t understand it,” he said with a deep sigh.

To be honest, I didn’t either – at least certain aspects of it. And neither did many (most? all?) of the patrons who stayed around after the performance to participate in an informal talk-back – which I normally don’t do. But since I was there as a theatergoer and not a critic, I decided to see what everyone else thought of the production. What I learned is this: My friend and I weren’t alone in our confusion. Or more accurately, I suspect, is this: Everyone interpreted what they saw through their own lenses and filters and viewed the results a bit differently. And that includes the actors and the director.

So as everyone compared notes and shared their observations, the puzzle pieces started coming together for me. But not totally.

The picture got clearer as my friend and I got closer to home. As we talked about things one or the other of us weren’t sure about – again, something that’s verboten when I’m functioning as a critic – more lights came on and Maxim’s vision got clearer. But so did something else.

As theatergoers, we’re used to being rather passive when we’re watching a play. Yes, we laugh or clap or sing along, but rarely do we exercise much brain power as the story unfolds; we simply sit back, observe and let it all soak in.

With plays such as “Lost in 3 Pines,” however, Maxim challenges his audience to not only watch and observe, but also to actively concentrate on every word that is said – even words or lines that seem unimportant at the time. To miss even a syllable could lead to confusion as the story roller coasters its way to its unexpected conclusion. As such, it’s part cryptogram, part word seek and part mental acuity test all rolled into a 90-minute dilemma that the great Sherlock Holmes would surely deem to be not-so elementary as he attempted to sort through its many piece parts.

By now you’re probably wondering what it's about. Here’s the best, basic, one-line summary I can think of: A young, married woman who feels trapped and lost in the life she’s living is asked a not-so-innocent question by a stranger she meets at a dinner party – “What do you do for a living?” – and the resultant existential quest to answer him takes her on a personal journey (real or imagined) she never expected.

Yes, that’s vague. Purposely so. But bear with me.

As I was shaving this morning and processing what I had seen the night before, a thought popped into my head that doesn’t really explain the details of the plot, but rather the show’s unusual concept and the form Maxim uses to tell his story. So here goes:

Imagine you’re a young college student sitting alone in a dimly lit, somewhat-seedy bar located in an old, run-down neighborhood few people frequent. It’s early evening, the sun has just gone down, when in walks author L. Frank Baum. He stops after taking a few steps inside, and once his eyes are adjusted to the darkness, he spots fellow-author Lewis Carroll sitting alone and nursing a drink. So he walks over, is invited to sit down, and the two begin a quiet, yet animated conversation. Within minutes, from another room inside the bar, walk Anton Chekov, Henrik Ibsen, Bertolt Brecht and Samuel Beckett. The two groups spot each other immediately, say their hellos and quickly grab a large, round table close to where you’re sitting. As the night progresses, drinks flow freely, tales tall roll off their tongues, and – thanks to the liquor taking its toll – an amusing challenge is suggested. "Just for the fun of it," one says to the others, "let’s take the archetypal characters of Dorothy and Alice on a self-exploratory journey unlike any other, one in which she’ll find herself surrounded by people and set in unique situations and places only those of us at this table could concoct for her." They all love the suggestion, of course, and the ideas quickly percolate. As the evening gets later and the stack of empty booze bottles grows larger, the story takes shape. Intrigued by what he observes is a lone figure sitting at the bar. But when the authors hit a stumbling block, the gentleman stands up, pays his bar tab, slowly saunters towards the group, offers a suggestion, and leaves. “Tennessee Williams, you’re a genius,” the six laugh. At dawn, the now-sleepy men rise from their now-filthy table and walk out into the sunlight, pleased with themselves and the story they created – knowing and accepting that it would never be told again. What they don’t know, however, is that the young man sitting nearby absorbed every word he heard. And he knows a time will come to bring their unusual tale to life.

While that scenario didn’t actually play out, of course, it helps explain what happens when concepts and elements of such childhood favorites as “The Wizard of Oz” and “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” are ripped apart and reshaped through the lenses of authors who worked in a handful of different, specific genres of Maxim’s choosing. The result, then, is a story told through four short acts staged and performed in four very different styles of theater.

As such, like every absurdist play you’ve ever attended, patrons will leave the theater unsure of what they’ve seen. They’ll have questions – possibly lots of questions. But that’s what good theater is supposed to do: challenge you and leave you to resolve unanswered questions for yourself.

For as it became clear at the talk back, no one – not even the actors in the play – viewed or interpreted the script the same way. Identical conclusions were never drawn. And I suspect absolutely no one in the audience anticipated the show’s final act.

Although our discussion about the play took us almost all the way home, my friend sat quiet as we drove the last few miles. As we approached my driveway, he looked at me and said, “I’ve changed my mind. I really liked the play.”

I did, too, although I still haven't resolved all of my unanswered questions. I also loved the performances – all of them, none of which I’ll talk about individually because it would be unfair to discuss one or two and not the others. Plus, this isn't meant to be a review. But I will say that because of the style changes required of each act, each actor was faced with the difficult task of figuring out how to negotiate each new change without negating what went on before. And they did so quite masterfully. And entertainingly.

Now, there’s only one question left to answer: Will YOU like the show? Maybe. Maybe not. One person I talked to hated it. But I suspect anyone one who loves theater that is different and unique and is open to work that challenges its audience to pay close attention and sort through its many details will find it intriguing. And fun. And thought provoking. And timely. And well acted. And well costumed.

Or: Just go to see ripped Brenton Herwat in a very shiny, skimpy, revealing outfit. I'm OK with that, too. (How Tiaja Sabrie kept a straight face at certain times is beyond me! A WILDE-r Award would surely be given them if such a thing still existed!)

“Lost in 3 Pines” runs through Aug. 5.  Show details can be found here:

(Photo at top by Jan Cartwright; all others by Nick Rowley.)