Pure Joy of Movement by Beverly Creasey (5/4/08)

Archeologists have discovered cave paintings of animals, warriors and dancers dating back 3000 years. Even before the written word, primitive choreographers were notating dances with pictures. According to these cave drawings, primitive man hunted, fished, fought ...and danced! So who were these figures whose movements were deemed so important that they were depicted on stone? Were they royalty? Priests? Elders?

After a performance by Prometheus Dance's ELDERS ENSEMBLE, you'll be thinking they were definitely tribal elders. Diane Arvanites-Noya and Tommy Neblett choreograph gorgeous, intricate pieces for their senior company (ages .55 to 85) which the dancers execute in elegant symmetry. Some of the work is highly theatrical, with dramatic components which the performers deliver like seasoned actors. What sets these dancers apart from their younger counterparts is the joy they radiate and the unabashed freedom of movement they exude as they dance. They're having a grand time out there on stage.

I Having seen all but one of the pieces before (An exquisite new work which celebrates the sacred premiered this weekend) I realized that the familiar works had changed slightly and seemed even more poignant. The dancers have grown into their roles so that the work is richer and fuller now. Audiences are struck by the exuberance and playfulness of the performances. ALL DRESSED UP (from 2007) is a madcap romp, a Felliniesque voyage of dreams and discovery, presided over by ringmaster Dorothy Elizabeth Tucker.

SHADOW PROPHECY (from 2006) sets Marcie Miller centerstage, surrounded and buffeted by the Fates. It's a harrowing lamentation which ends in triumph, when Miller comes to terms with, and embraces her destiny. Arvanites & Noya's remarkable new piece embraces the SACRED in all its forms: nature, spirit and worship. The dancers sway to ancient chants and Latin litanies and are lifted up as if in an embrace of peace. The transcendent images follow the music, changing from Eastern to Western, from Hindu prayer gesture to a Pieta tableau. Joan Green delivers a paean to nature at the end of the piece and the dancers whisper their own prayers as they exit the stage.

Their last dance has become their signature: It's a sassy, hip little number (from 2005) which says it all. The dancers sport saucy sundresses and shades, ready to catch some rays in their aluminum lawn chairs but they don't lounge for long. Those chairs are airborne, the music by Ray Charles and Nat King Cole beckons them to come out and play ...and they do, kicking their legs over their heads and amusing us with their stories. Leave it to Betty Milhendler to end hers with "THERE'S A DANCE IN THE OL' DAME YET!"

In Barbara Ehrenreich's new cultural history of dance, she speculates that no less than the decline of Western civilization began with the church's suppression of Medieval Festivals with their ecstatic ritual. dancing. You might say that The Elders Ensemble is saving the world, one dance at a time.

The Full Monty by Shera Cohen (4/24/08)
Majestic Theater, West Springfield thru 5/25.

Colloquial definitions of “the full monty” mean: the whole lot, entire pot, full amount, and the more commonly understood “full striptease routine.” The Majestic’s interpretation of the musical “The Full Monty” gives many meanings to the word “full.”

“Monty” tops off what has been a creative and exceptional season at the Majestic. From a two-character play, to Shakespeare, to a hysterically funny show on ice-fishing, to the large-cast and full-fledged musical of “Monty,” this company continues to prove that home-produced theatre is among the best. It’s costly and a risk, yet mounting plays from scratch instills a pride in cast and crew, not to mention audiences.

This musical, the story of down and out unemployed factory workers, is far from a “downer.” Yes, the characters are broke, with family problems, and depressed. Yet at the same time, they are full of hope, dreams, and the potential for self-esteem. Their means to the latter are unorthodox in the reluctant plan to become Chippendale-wannabes.

Randy Ronco (leader of the troupe) has energy, relates to his stage-son in poignant scenes, and represents a flawed man who doesn’t give up. Robert Clark (big-lug buddy Dave) portrays a pussycat with a heart. Darron Cardosa (mama’s boy) is the best of the singers. Also in this wonderful ensemble are Tom Knightlee, Van Farrier, and Dann Black. They are a perfect motley team, especially in their song and dance (creatively choreographed by David Wallace) piece “Michael Jordan’s Ball.”

While it’s the guys who “are” the play, Paula Cortis and Lea Oppedisano (wives) develop background of whom these men really are. Their juxtaposed scenes, in song and physical placement on the stage, in “You Rule My World” are highlights of the show.

Director Danny Eaton has a lot to do connecting the many segments to the next, as he works with Set Designer Amy Davis (creating a warehouse simply with moving panels) and Band Leader Mitch Chakour keeping up the pace.

“Monty” is a play with lyrics that move the story along, no hard-to-understand British accents (remember the movie version), and proof that there is no difference in talent between Equity and non-Equity actors.

The Smothers Brothers & Springfield Symphony Orchestra by Shera Cohen (4/14/08)
Symphony Hall, Springfield
www.inthespotlightinc.org

Tommy is age 70 and Dickie is age 68. Yet, the Smothers Brothers performance might as well have taken place in the 1960s. The “boys” never skipped a beat in impeccable timing, topical humor, irreverence, and their well-known stage personas. By the way, each aged very well.

Tommy’s trademark stupidity and naiveté bounced off brother Dickie’s exasperation and seriousness just as they had done throughout the past 50 years. Yes, a half-century! The audience got exactly what they expected in style, comedy, and music. Which was more perfect – the material or the delivery? It’s a toss up. Each went hand-in-hand to create a terrific show.

There was simply too much to remember for this critic to write, because the performance was extremely fast-paced and funny. Among the highlights were the following: the trilogy of “dog songs” coupled with a lame dog joke; the feigned gratefulness to perform in Springfield; and Tommy’s avocation as a trained pilot. As his brother commented, “Just because you accumulated thousands of skymiles, it doesn’t make you an airline pilot.”

Sometimes, it’s forgotten that the brothers are also very skilled musicians. With Tommy on guitar and Dickie on bass, their music and voices (Dickie, the better singer) make for an important part of the act – that is until Tommy always interrupts. The duo never managed through an entire song, but that’s what the routine is all about.

When music segued into comedy, that was the best of the routines; i.e. a tender Spanish song reverted to German, then yodeling (Tommy’s the culprit, of course). Another “normal” melody turned its notes to “Dueling Guitars,” only this time guitar vs. piano.

Special appearance by The Yo Yo Man (Tommy) and Voice of Yo (Dickie) had both back and forth on stage performing yo yo tricks and extemporaneous commentary. Who would think that a yo yo could be that much fun to watch?

A video of the brothers’ lives capped off the evening. The longest section showed excerpts from “The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour,” including anti-Vietnam scripts, commentary by Pat Paulson, and being axed in the prime of the series. Thank goodness, the boys never really went away.

The Ten Tenors by Shera Cohen (3/15/08)
Colonial Theatre, Pittsfield
www.inthespotlightinc.org

Two math questions. What is Il Divo x 3.33? Hummm? Let’s make it easier? What are The Three Tenors x 2.5? Answer -- The Ten Tenors, or affectionally dubbed TTT. These Aussies combine camaraderie, energy, and animated choreography of a football team with debonair charm, wit, and professionalism of Wall Street bankers. They are personable, relaxed, and as one of the members referred to all, “incredibly good looking.” They are the boys next door, if the boys had voices like Pavarotis in the making.

Starting as impromptu street singers, the classmates launched their career performing in every town and hamlet in their homeland, quickly cut a CD, and then ventured to Europe. Except for one PBS performance, few in this country have had the opportunity to hear TTT. Now on their first North American tour, these boys are fast becoming known and applauded, and not just for their pretty faces. They can sing!

As a unit, TTT is at its best – whether singing as one voice or as a group sporadically highlighting individuals within sections of songs. It is clearly evident that each vocalist has his unique singing style, range, and genre expertise. They also can sing anything – and do!

There are folk, pop, rock, Australian pieces, disco, and a lot of opera. One of the men told the audience that they would perform, “opera without the boring bits.” The repertoire shifts from Pucci to Queen, “Waltzing Matilda” to Dean Martin’s “Volare,” the Tarantella to Simon & Garfunkel, and Verdi to the Bee Gees. Envision 10 businessmen walking out of an office, instantly singing “Saturday Night Fever” as a chorus line performing disco moves.

While the singers promised no encores, they lied. There were three, with standing ovations after each. The last was perhaps the best tenor aria ever written – “Nessun dorma” from “Turandot.” What an evening!

The wonderful experience of this concert starts before spotlights go up and a note is sung. It begins upon entering the newly renovated 100-year-old Colonial Theatre. Millions have obviously been spent in keeping the original historic luster. The venue was breath-taking, and every dime was well-spent. Pittsfield’s residents should feel proud of their good work in turning their arts around 180 degrees. Pittsfield is very much a destination point.

Buddha: In His Own Words - The Life of the Buddha assembled from the original texts
written and performed by Evan Brenner, off-off-Broadway
by Steve Capra (3/12/08)

Siddartha Gautama, a prince of the warrior class, now known as The Buddha, lived 2500 years ago. His writings have been preserved in fifty volumes. Evan Brenner (a Buddhist priest) has selected the material about the Buddha’s own life and distilled it into a ninety-minute monologue: Buddha: In His Own Words. There are some other characters - Ananda the servant, the charioteer, the devil himself – but for the overwhelmig bulk of the piece, it’s the Buddha himself who’s speaking.

The text is carefully structured.  The familiar story of the Prince abandoning the life of pleasure forms the first act, and the climax is, of course, the great Enlightenment under the Bodhi tree. The second act is often weak in this sort of script, but here it’s strong, well conceived, focusing on the Buddha’s ministry. In fact, the story is at its best here, thrust by the drive of the spread of the teaching and the joy of new converts: “And then there were six… And then there were sixty-one… And then there were thousands…” Its fantastic closing passage concerns the revenge of the Slave Prince, a story that will probably be new to many.

What’s more, the writing is elegant. It uses poetic repitition. We hear phrases repeated like “the four great continents with their surrounding islands numbering two thousand”. We hear sentences like “Wide open were the doors to Nirvana” and “There is this teaching discovered by me.” Brenner’s imbedded the rhetorical devices in the script so that they’re not intrusive.

Like any miracle play, this script’s purpose is to teach, and we indeed hear the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism are repeated a few times. Brenner’s expression of them is particularly accessible, as we’re reminded to “let go of the origin of suffering, which is selfish craving.”

Brenner has commanding speech and has a refined sense of gesture. He could be a first-rate storyteller. But this is a monologue in the first person, and it cries for an actor’s technique, which Brenner lacks. There’s no evidence of the choices actors make. To whom is the Buddha speaking? His best pupil? His slowest pupil? When Brenner says “I fight on”, he shakes his fist, and the line cries for subtext.

Indeed, the production apparently has no director. The concept is right: Brenner stands barefoot in colorless clothes, with no set but a chair. But for some reason, he never takes the lotus position, only a sort of half-lotus. There are self-contained stories in the script, but they’re not defined in the staging. Worst, his trim, nice-boy haircut is a glaring anomaly on the stage.

But be that as it may. Buddha: In His Own Words is a religious and stage event, and we’re happy to have it. I saw it in previews. It “opens” on an unspecified date “a few months away”, on West 25^th Street in New York. See www.thebuddhaplay.com. It was born in Cambridge about 18 months ago.

Taking it to the Streets by Steve Capra (12/6/07)
Each actor in The Thalia Theatre’s production of Frank Wedekind’s Lulu (from Hamburg, at The Brooklyn Academy of Music, in German) casts multiple shadows on a lavender screen upstage. There’s no set – not a stick – except for that screen, and there’s a single prop, a handgun. Lulu wears a series of minidresses, and the scenes are connected with rock music, but this production wants to be without period, larger than life, epic.

Director Michael Thalheimer has chosen this bold approach (he’s known for it) in spite of the counterindications in the script. Lulu is Everyman’s desire, but she’s protean, not an absolute. Each man has his own name for her (‘Eve’ or ‘Mignon’ or something). “I like them incomplete,” one lover says of her.

Thalheimer has based his lean, abbreviated adaptation on Pandora’s Box: A Monster-Tragedy, a five-act drama (1892 or so), referred to as Lulu. Wedekind later rewrote the play as two dramas, Earth Spirit and Pandora’s Box, which had a highly censored history. (In 1928 German director G.W. Pabst adapted them into a brilliant silent film.) The original script was discovered only after FW’s death.

Lulu is one of the great bravura roles. A slut of the first magnitude, she runs through a series of husbands and other men, causing some of them to exit this life, all the while resisting a woman’s advances. Finally, after convoluted plot twists (again an obstacle to grandeur), she has to take to the streets in London, and she meets her demise at the hands of a character based on Jack the Ripper.

In this production, Lulu is a monster indeed; she licks her dead husband’s blood from her lover’s hand. The actress, Fritzi Haberlandt, is suitably detached from sexuality, but she makes the character into an insolent brat. Worse, she looks wrong for the part – too hard. Nonetheless, the actors drop their pants - literally, on stage - one after another, slaves to their appetites.

As the play progresses, that screen creeps downstage, crushing the actors against the fourth wall; there’s clearly an impressive conceptual talent at work. The production is enormously powerful, but so is a blunt object to the head.

Thalheimer’s minimalism, reducing the script to actors alone, is wrong for the script. Note that the characters speak German in Germany, but, in public, they speak French in Paris and English in London. This is super-naturalism. Indeed, it’s nearly farce, smaller than life: when Lulu (accidently?) shoots Husband Number Two, he says “I’m fat enough.” The director wants to give the characters the dignity of Greek prototypes, and he can’t. The lines themselves need context to be truthful. In reading, they’re cryptic. In this production, they’re undecipherable.

And speaking of the lines: there’s a tacky insert in the program crediting the English Titles. This should have been a clue, I suppose. The dialogue is difficult, even in the reading, and this cast spit out the lines with the rhythm of a machine gun. The surtitles aren’t up to the challenge, and it’s often impossible to tell which character is speaking the line we’re reading. A times, the surtitles give up, the screens are blank, and we’re left to out own devices.