Thursday Night in Park Slope: Lucie Vítková at the Old Stone House

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Saturday Night in Park Slope: Piper Theatre presents "The Island of Doctor Moreau" outdoors at the Old Stone House in Washington Park

Tonight we were mesmerized by a stunning performance of an innovative, visceral, and commanding adaptation of H.G. Wells' The Island of Doctor Moreau conceived and executed by the amazing Piper Theatre outside the Old Stone House in Park Slope's Washington Park.

Frankly, a novel like Wells' Doctor Moreau is extremely difficult to adapt successfully to the stage. Its fast-moving plot probably works a lot better on the screen.

 

 Last season we saw a not entirely successfully outdoor production of an adaptation of Wells' War of the Worlds, which both tried to update the century-old fiction and follow too much of literally But Wells' material was handled much more astutely here.

Piper Theatre's highly stylized adaptation avoids both of those problems, freely turning what is both an early work of science fiction -- of the mad scientist/technology run amok variety -- and a sophisticated novel of ideas and passions -- into more a general "work of the theater" than a "play."

Indeed, the choreography involved in this production -- so expertly timed and astoundingly apt to the actions depicted --

made it all the more impressive when director and Piper Theatre artistic director John P. McEneny (Mollie Lief was assistant director on this play as well as the wonderful Xanadu) came on after the show and curtain call, on this, the last night of the troupe's public performances here, and mentioned that there had been only nine rehearsals. Wow, we thought, the cast is even more impressive than we thought.

The credits read only "devised and directed by the Piper Collaborative" and then list, in alphabetical order: Chris Cariker, Vasile Flutur, Zoë Frazer, Nicholas Guastella, Mollie Lief, Matthew Luceno, John P. McEneny, Aaron Novak, Lucas Syed, Chinaza Uche.

The story was narrated pretty much by the book's narrator, Pendrick, an upper-class shipwrecked scientist who, rescued by an alcoholic physician, Montgomery, comes upon the island of the title, where Dr. Moreau practices vivisection and creates horrific half-human, half-animal hybrids.

But at least three of the six performers took the role of Prendrick, passing it off expertly, as the character addresses the audience, using some of the Wells' narrative, modified and tightened.

The pivotal role of Stevenson, the weak but sympathetic doctor who brings Prendrick to Dr. Moreau's island, was played consistently by Chinaza Uche, who managed to create a coherent character.

Yet although Prendrick was played by several actors, including the wonderful actress Zoë Frazer, there was a consistent "voice" in his character as well as the narrative. And the handoffs between the actors were as close to seamless as possible in this kind of production.

We wish we had a more specific guide as to which actors played each parts -- the role of Dr. Moreau was played consistently, we think, by an actor who managed to be chilling, charismatic, and at least half-crazy.

And we think it was Lucas Syed who not only provided the crucial musical accompaniment but also offered narrative as a full member of the ensemble.

But what's most wonderful about this production is the shape-shifting and role-shifting, and the portrayal of the Beast Folk, from the most characterized (and human) one, Montgomery's half-man, half-bear servant M'ling, to the horrifying Leopard Man and other bizarre creations.

We hope this won't be the last performance of the Piper Theatre's Island of Doctor Moreau. A truly excellent theatrical work like this deserves a wider audience -- and more educated and informed praise than we can offer. We're very grateful we got to see it.

Thursday Night in Park Slope: Piper Theatre presents "Xanadu" outdoors at the Old Stone House in Washington Park

Tonight we sat out back of the Old Stone House in Park Slope for the opening night of Piper Theatre's majestically silly, irresistible ball of fluff of a musical, Xanadu, which recreates the 2007 Broadway reworking/sendup of the laughably abysmal 1980 roller-disco-of-the-gods movie starring Olivia Newton-John.

As one of the over-the-top characters exclaims, "This is like children’s theater for 40-year-old gay people!” -- a pretty good match for the large and enthusiastic Park Slope audience sitting on blankets in the renovated Washington Park.

(This being Park Slope, there were lots of kids, from well-behaved babies and toddlers through the teens and tweens, many of whom are part of Piper Theatre's summer program for young actors. We're pretty sure the play's references to things like Brut, To Live and Die in L.A., and Parker Stevenson (where is he now?) went two stories over their heads.)

In its twelfth season of productions -- it's been at Old Stone House since 2005 -- Piper Theatre made an offbeat but wise choice in selecting this campy, self-parodying delight, directed with dynamism by Piper Theatre founder/artistic director John P. McEneny, with choreography by Karen Curlee and musical direction by Megan Jonynas.

This Equity showcase production featured a fun-loving, energetic, and musically talented cast who look good in ancient Greek attire, gym shorts and knee socks, or : Alissa Laderer (Kira), Jamie Roach (Sonny Malone), M.X. Soto (Danny McGuire/Zeus), Kelly Blaze (Calliope/Aphrodite), MaryAnne Piccolo (Melpomene/Medusa), Jake Mendes (Talia), Ricky Dain Jones (Terpischore), Matthew McGloin (Hermes/Dance Captain),

Jennifer Somers Kipley (Euterpe/Thetis), Linnea Larsdotter (Erato/Hera),

Emily Bodkin (Thalia), and Arielle Vullo (Urania).

Sarah Edkins’ scenery design recreates the Venice Beach of the late ’70s, paying homage to the street art and visual style emblematic to that place and time, a West Coast counterpart to New York City’s more famous underground art scene, only with more pastels.

We also loved the appearance of the winged horse Pegasus in act two; he proved a lot funnier than Joey in War Horse.

There was also a wonderful band who played the show's bouncy music expertly.

We were a bit skeptical about Xanadu at first, but the show is so winningly self-deprecating, so filled with irreverence and charm, with plenty of tasty 70s and 80s musical numbers,

so it didn't take long to win us over. It's quite a delightful production, and it made us forget all about the heat and humidity.

We were very impressed by the choreography of the muses and the deftness with which cast members Alissa Laderer (Kira) and Jamie Roach (Sonny Malone) were able to move around on roller skates. They had a good deal of chemistry and also sang with a lot of verve.

The songs, reminiscent of the disco era, are quite nice, though for us the highlight was the comic duo of MaryAnne Piccolo (the funniest cast member, reminiscent of great comic musical actors, as the acid-tongues Melpomene) and her sister in intrigue, Kelly Blaze (as Calliope) singing "Evil Woman."

“I’m Alive,” “Suddenly” and “All Over the World,” three hits from the original soundtrack by John Farrar, the song-writing powerhouse behind Newton-John, and ELO’s Jeff Lynne, also were lively.

The charm and fun of this wonderful show should have you bopping and lip-synching and enjoying a mythical (in more than one sense of the word) excursion into the not-so-halcyon days of the disco era (we can tell you that we had a lot of fun, but Park Slope in 1980 was a lot less bouncy than Xanadu's reimagining of Venice Beach (itself not as much fun back then, either).

We're really grateful we got to see Xanadu and advise you to get to the Old Stone House to see it while it's still playing.

Friday Night in Park Slope: Piper Theatre presents "The Miser" outdoors at the Old Stone House

Tonight in Park Slope, we saw a phenomenal and extraordinarily professional production of Molière's The Miser put on by the Piper Theatre outside the Old Stone House. Cleverly adapted and directed by Welker White, this was a remarkably funny and relevant version of this classic farce, updating the satiric comedy to the 21st century.

We see a lot of outdoor theater in parks around the city (avoiding the big productions at Central Park's Delacorte Theatre, which we know are great, due to our allergy to waiting on line). Most have to begin early because they have no artificial lighting and you want the audience to be able to see the action. The Piper Theatre's high production values gave them the advantage of professional lighting, so tonight's performance didn't begin until after 8:30 p.m. (making our dumbphone camera kind of useless).

The lighting was only one example of the top-notch production values on display tonight: a highly effective sound system, a real inside-theater set, and the effect of watching a play indoors. While this takes away some of the fun of having the action going around all around you, it's closer to the experience of being in a real theater.

Welker White, the director, has worked as a film, stage and TV actress with some of the top directors and although she only last year received her MFA in Directing from Brooklyn College, we're pretty sure this belated academic credential was didn't mean she could have taught some of the graduate courses she'd taken at BC. Tonight's production was evidence that she's already an experienced and accomplished director.

Particularly brilliant was her choice, in adapting Molière, to combine both contemporary elements (Clèante's iPod and addiction to fashion blogs are just two examples) and those from the play's 1668 debut (when the playwright himself played the title character, Harpagon) -- and then adding just a soupçon of funny fourth-wall-breaking references, like Harpagon's inveighing against the noisy gangsta teens in the playground and the pampered Park Slope tots "and their lesbian mothers." If it sounds like it wouldn't cohere, you're wrong: everything worked perfectly in this well-oiled machine.

Which is not to say that the play felt slick. Still, this felt like one of the few outdoor plays we've seen that was seamlessly ready for prime-time. For one thing, the lead actor, Damian Young (Harpagon), was utterly in control all the time. The role is a tricky one; despite his almost inhuman greed and utter disregard for the feelings of his son and daughter, much less anyone else, he's got to appear simultaneously a ridiculous buffoon, an instrument of real (if banal) evil, and at least somewhat sympathetic, if not endearing. In his modulated virtuoso performance, Young strikes all the right notes.

He's helped by a very strong supporting cast, especially stage veteran Jan Leslie Harding as Frosine, the matchmaker -- here played as a combination of the unctuous real estate broker and the kind of artsy older woman who puts a pencil in her hairbun -- who serves as Harpagon's foil, enabler, ally and manipulator. The unfortunate kids of the miser who are being kept from their true loves by his plans for mercenary marriages for the entire family are played with wonderful flair by Todd C. Bartels as the trend-obsessed Clèante and Hannah Jane McMurray as the hapless, romantic Elise.

David Bachman probably gets the most laughs as LaFleche and especially as Jacques, the miser's coachman cum cook. With the exaggerated French accent of a children's cartoon character, he is such an adept physical comedian that he comes close to stealing his scenes. But the other actors do manage to match him, and the laughs keep coming quickly, the key to a high-functioning farce.

But all the actors here were memorable: Gilbert Cruz as both Simon and a comic-"Law and Order" style police commissioner; Zac Hoogendyk as an earnest yet sarcastic Valere; Alice Winslow as the sweet but distracted Mariane; Tom Tammi as a hearty and jovial Anselme, and the younger actors playing the miser's put-upon, despondent, passive-aggressive servants.

The Piper Theatre production of The Miser is not just a highly entertaining, very funny farce, but it also kept us thinking about our present economic situation, like the line that asks who's worse: the borrowers who take out enormous loans they can't possibly pay back or the greedy lenders who give them the money with the complete awareness that these people will default?

In the end, the old curmudgeonly miser here and his children and their loves and everyone else get a joyously happy ending, made more even upbeat by the cast's boisterous final musical number. If only the greed of the past decades would end so happily! We're grateful to the Piper Theatre and the Old Stone House for giving us this wonderful evening in the theater.

Sunday Afternoon in Park Slope: "Look Back in Anger" at the Old Stone House

We headed over to the Old Stone House in Washington Park on a dreary fall Sunday afternoon to see a first-rate production of John Osborne's Look Back in Anger.

It was precisely the play needed for a dreary Sunday, as it has three crucial scenes set on dreary Sundays. But this drama's effect is the direct opposite of dreary. It's explosive.

We bought the Bantam paperback edition of the play from the old Bookworm Bookstore on Flatbush Avenue near Church when it came out in 1967.

We stayed up one night and read the play in one long gulp.

The book had amazing drawings of the scenes by Lee Gregori. But of course it was Osborne's words, even a decade after they caused a revolution on the London stage, in the mouth of his "angry young man," Jimmy Porter, that so excited one 16-year-old boy in Brooklyn:

I've an idea, why don't we have a little game? Let's pretend that we're human beings and that we're actually alive. Just for a while. What do you say?

The contemporary reaction to Look Back in Anger is more respectful than enthusiastic. It's impossible, given the past forty or fifty years, to recapture the response its got back in the day when it seemed urgent, an emancipation of drama from the restrictions of past generations, particularly in pre-Beatles, pre-mods-and-rockers, pre-"cool-Britannia" Britain, but also in fifties America.

Even by the time we read it, we'd already digested - devoured - Albee's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, in which the emotional outbursts are even more extreme than the ones that are Look Back in Anger's most compelling moments.

The second floor of the Old Stone House is a great space for talks and the Brooklyn Reading Works but it's not ideal for theater. Yet this production, directed fluidly by Thomas Mulhare, managed to employ the space to maximum effect, effectively using the intimacy; at several points, sitting on the aisle, we could have reached out and touched the characters. Scene changes, which could have been jarring, were handled adeptly in an understated way with a character simply announcing them: "Two weeks later."

The cast was uniformly superb. The dialogue written by Osborne (for some reason, the program misspelled the author's name four times, adding a superfluous U, as if it were labour, honour or colour - but we guess it's great that that was our biggest quibble with the production) contains a number of monologues that could lend themselves to scenery-chewing. But here everything was controlled, restrained - even at the moments of highest rage and passion.

Alex Mills played Jimmy Porter with a vulnerability that made his sneering and sadistic tirades directed at his wife Alison and the other characters understandable. Mills' performance also emphasized Jimmy's high intelligence and educated background, which serve only to feed his frustration and bitterness and make him strike out at the world, including those who - almost unaccountably but not quite - love him. But he's also delighted with his own fury.

Yet it's hard in 2009 to take Jimmy's long, vicious riffs - like those against his despised mother-in-law - with the kind of shock that it generated decades ago. Look Back in Anger is one of those artistic works at the vanguard of so triumphant a revolutionary change that its innovations are impossible to discern for an audience who didn't live through its initial reception.

Today it's hard to imagine how some of us were affected by Osborne's plays - we also loved The Entertainer - and other groundbreaking British novels, dramas and films of the time: Shelagh Delaney's A Taste of Honey, John Schlesinger's Billy Liar, anything by Alan Sillitoe.

Our dad once came in as we were viewing Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner for about the seventh time one week on Channel 9's Million Dollar Movie and said with a chuckle, "No matter how many times you watch it, he's never gonna finish that damn race." So we were thrilled to have this production come to the Old Stone House this weekend and delighted to get this kind of quality theater for just a five-dollar donation.

There's a tenderness in this Jimmy Porter that makes his unpleasant egotism understandable but doesn't veer into mawkishness. Alex Mills perfectly captured Osborne's stage directions' description of his antihero as "a disconcerting mixture of sincerity and cheerful malice, of tenderness and freebooting cruelty."

In the squalor of Jimmy's Midlands flat - subtly suggested by a minimalist set, lots of newspapers scattered about (we admit being distracted by their being New York papers; maybe they could have gotten some London ones?) and a few stuffy furnishings, including an old record player from which very low-key background music which served the action of the play well - Alison, his upper-class wife, at first seems out of place.

Played by Katy Foley, who also was the producer here, this Alison seemed less Jimmy's punching bag and doormat than someone who's somewhat willingly taken on the role of wife as victim as a way of protecting the man she loves from turning his anger on himself. That is, Alison here appears very vulnerable but not bewildered; she's made her choices deliberately, even though she may not be aware of it. In Foley's portrayal, you can see why Alison is the squirrel to Jimmy's bear in their stuffed-animal avatars on a side table.

As Helena, Ruby Joy at first is outwardly brittle and somewhat manipulative, but in Act Two - there was a ten-minute intermission - it's obvious that she wears a protective armor and is also a lost soul, drowning slowly in what she once thought were safe waters. She doesn't lack compassion, but for Joy's Helena, everything else takes a back seat to self-preservation.

Daniel Kemper excelled as Cliff and was in some ways the pivotal character in this production. Jimmy's most ardent passion is devoted to his loyal crony Cliff, who's fiercely protective of him despite the mutual insults. Cliff is even more protective and tender toward Alison, whom he's so affectionate toward - the choice made to begin the play with Cliff and Alison in an embrace, as if they're having a furtive affair, was brilliant - that it would arouse the jealousy of any husband except Jimmy, who's incapable of jealousy.

Tolerant, patient, self-deprecating, funny, acutely aware of his limitations and lack of education, Kemper's Cliff is also quite needy, and we don't quite know how to respond to his perfectly-delivered speech announcing that it might be time for him to move on from Jimmy's sweet shop business and his friends' menage; this character's motivations are in some way the most complex in the play.

Like Jimmy's working class English accent and the posher accents of the other characters, Cliff's Welsh accent was effectively unobtrusive and unaffected.

Dan Odell as Colonel Redfern, Alison's father, gave an affecting performance as the representative of the establishment, no caricactured Colonel Blimp but a man plagued by self-doubt and second-guessing, as vulnerable as the young people, distracted and bewildered by the ground shaking underneath Old England's feet. In the way he muddles through, there's a sense of decency about him, and Odell struck all the right gestures for a man of his time and place.

Look Back in Anger is a period piece today, and this production emphasized not its blazing fury but the melancholy underlying the characters' lives. Osborne's words, even the ones that seemed vulgar and brutal in 1956, now seem elegaic and wonderfully poetic.

The sun was shining as we left the Old Stone House and we were really glad we got to see this production.