| 2007-2008 Season | 2006-2007 Season | 2005-2006 Season | 2004-2005 Season | 2003-2004 Season 2002-2003 Season | 2001-2002 Season | 2000-2001 Season | 1999-2000 Season | Prologue Season 2006 - 2007 Season Nat King Cole | Tuesdays with Morrie | Arms and the Man | A Christmas Survival Guide | QED | Death of a Salesman | Polish Joke | Quilters | The Musical of Musicals, The Musical The Musical of Musicals (The Musical!) (4 Reviews) 'Musical' hits all its parody notes To get an idea of what The Musical of Musicals (The Musical!) is like, think of the popular musical parody Forbidden Broadway, but with even more cleverness and depth. The show with the sillily redundant title is a load of fun at Actors' Summit of Hudson, spoofing the work of musical greats Rodgers and Hammerstein, Stephen Sondheim, Jerry Herman, Andrew Lloyd Webber, and Kander and Ebb. You'd have to be a musical theater nut to get all of the musical references in this show, of which there are scores. But anyone with a healthy knowledge of the American art form will get plenty of the jokes. Director Neil Thackaberry's cast -- including MaryJo Alexander, Joe Bishara, Kathleen Culler and Keith Stevens -- works as a tight comedic team. This musical is like five shows in one, with the common thread being the tried-and-true melodrama plot of the ingenue not being able to pay the rent, the evil landlord insisting on her paying the rent and the hero coming in to save the day. Creators Eric Rockwell and Joanne Bogart must have delightfully warped minds to have come up with all the wacky variations to this basic theme, all portrayed in the recognizable styles of musical theater legends. Audiences will delight in seeing everything from a demented re-creation of Oklahoma's dream ballet to the evocation of Chicago's merry murderesses behind bars, complaining about their landlords in a spoof of the hot song Cell Block Tango. Only here and there is a strain of famous musical line heard. The show contains nearly entirely original music by Rockwell, which music director Marcia Snavely handles with finesse at the piano. The creators have done an exceptional job of composing songs in such similar styles to the originals, we know which songs are being parodied. This production abounds in delightfully bad taste, including some off-color jokes and even the ingenue being crushed by a chandelier (you get to use your imagination here). Especially funny is the Webber segment, starting with an homage to 'Junita' (Evita). You never know what to expect from this show, which has actress Culler morphing between characters Eva Peron and Christine Daae (from The Phantom of the Opera) in the same scene. Too bad the cast didn't don real roller skates, though, during the spoof of the ridiculous Webber musical Starlight Express. Culler is a lovable dimwit as the ingenue, June; Alexander entertains as the older, seasoned Abby; Bishara gets laughs as the villain Jitter; and Stevens creates a comically incompetent hero in Willy. Sly references to an entire musical can be handled in just one or two lines, such as when Big Willy says, ``That lease'll never hold up in court,'' to which villain Jitter says, ``Don't call me Lisl!'' from The Sound of Music. Bishara's best moments are as the Emcee from Cabaret, mocking the tune Willkommen with alohas and holas. In the Kander and Ebb scenes, the cast also strikes over-the-top Fosse-esque poses all over the place. Only this nutty show could make the normally heartbreaking line from Carousel, "Sometimes you can get hit -- hit real hard -- it feels like a kiss,'' seem funny. At Actors' Summit, it's enjoyable to see totally new fare that also has plenty of elements of the familiar in this Midwest premiere. The Musical of Musicals (The Musical!) opened off-Broadway in 2004, where it received three Drama Desk Award nominations. Singers joke about the theater "cognoscenti'' in this show. True, audiences are more likely to get references to the likes of Oklahoma!, Chicago and Cabaret -- dominant in pop culture -- than they will allusions to Sondheim, whose work is lovingly mocked in song as ambiguous and dissonant. "Don't feel obtuse, yes,it's abstruse," the cast sings in a parody of Into the Woods.
Holiday offerings: Carefree or serious openings So say two small professional theaters in the Cleveland area, both of which chose to open shows over the weekend, national holiday or no. One, Actors' Summit in Hudson, went with the carefree vacation angle, staging what appears to be the Ohio premiere of a goofy little Broadway parody - cabaret cleverly called The Musical of Musicals: The Musical! Kudos first to Actors' Summit co-artistic directors Neil Thackaberry and MaryJo Alexander (hubby and wife, off-stage) for latching onto this pleasant little spoof by Eric Rockwell and Joanne Bogart. Rockwell and Bogart work in the dual traditions of Forbidden Broadway-style parodies and of musical theater in general being obsessed with itself (see: Urinetown, Spamalot" and The Drowsy Chaperone). But they add a twist: They use the same storyline (damsel in distress, lascivious landlord, older and wiser diva, likeably bumbling hero) to present five minimusicals, in the styles of Rodgers & Hammerstein, Stephen Sondheim, Jerry Herman, Andrew Lloyd Webber and Kander & Ebb. All in 90 minutes. Each takes on the form of one particular musical (Corn follows the template of Oklahoma!) but also adds elements from other musicals by the same composers (Delicious Clam Dip satirizes Carousel). This opener and the following musical-ettes (The Woods, Sondheim; Dear Abby, Herman; Aspects of Juanita, Lloyd Webber; and Speakeasy, Kander & Ebb) each has its charms but each also runs on just a tad longer than necessary. The flattest turns out to be the Juanita. Which is hardly surprising. Lloyd Webber has already become a self-contained parody of himself. The best turns out to be Speakeasy, in large part because the choreography by Sasha Thackaberry (daughter of the artistic directors) so aptly mimics that of Bob Fosse, whose greatest successes came in the Dixieland-jazzy, Kurt Weill-es que musicals of Kander & Ebb. Daddy-director Neil T. and the cast (which includes Ma Alexander and son-in-law Keith Stevens) keep things moving smartly on a simple stage. Marcia Snavely, on the ivories, keeps them tinkling along.
Light, frothy musical at Actors' Summit The summer is the time for light, frothy musicals, and The Musical of Musicals (The Musical), now playing in the Actors' Summit Theater, is on the surface light and frothy. However, the script by Eric Rockwell (music and book) and Joanne Bogart (lyrics and book) is intelligent, witty and a great night in the theater. The show pays homage to five of the greatest writers or sets of writers of the American musical theater: the writing team of Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein; Stephen Sondheim; Jerry Herman; Andrew Lloyd Webber; and the writing team of John Kander and Fred Ebb. Rockwell and Bogart have written five parodies filled with affection and admiration for the original writers. For those of us who have enjoyed the originals, we recognize the writers are teasing the audience and anyone who has performed the classics of musical theater over the years. This is teasing of the kindest and gentlest style. If Bogart's name seems a bit familiar to some readers, perhaps you saw her play Mama Rose in Gypsy at Carousel Dinner Theatre about 20 years ago. In The Musical of Musicals, the same plot is used in the five parodies. June (Kathleen Culler) can't pay her rent. The landlord, Jitter (Joe Bishara), demands the rent be paid. Willy (Keith Stevens), her boyfriend, attempts to help June out of her financial predicament. June seeks advice from the kindly, older woman, Abby (MaryJo Alexander). This is a tough workout for the cast. From the start of act one until the end of that act, none of the performers get a break. The show moves at a fast pace that doesn't give the performers a chance to relax backstage or the audience to stop and think about the intelligent lampooning happening on the stage. The titles of the songs in this production provide hints of the parody in the lyrics. For example, in 'Corn,' which is written in the style of Rodgers and Hammerstein, the original 'If I Loved You' becomes 'I Don't Love You.' This type of good humor continues throughout the show. Fortunately, this is a first-rate cast, without one weak link or one poor moment. The members of the cast understand the plays and the styles they are lampooning and communicate that knowledge to the audience with exciting, clever performances. The four people in the cast are obviously having a good time sharing their love of the musical theater with the audience. The cast, in truth, includes a fifth member, Marcia Snavely, who accompanies the cast on the piano and served as musical director. Snavely keeps the performance moving at a fast pace. She plays well and seems to enjoy being part of the show. Choreographer Sasha Thackaberry, daughter of director Neil Thackaberry and Alexander, keeps the dance numbers as parodies of the big production numbers most of these shows generated on Broadway or in the movies. Sasha Thackaberry knows how to get a laugh with the choreography, and that's admirable. In the Rodgers and Hammerstein salute, 'Corn,' the cast performs a 'Dream Ballet,' a la Oklahoma!. As the 'Corn' dream ballet progresses, the cast runs across the stage in what is described as 'run of de Mille.' (Agnes de Mille choreographed the original Broadway production of Oklahoma!) Neil Thackaberry kept the spirit and style of the five composers and played the show for the laughs. Neil Thackaberry plays the stage manager and occasionally reads the stage directions, which were written for laughs, too. Alexander, who also was in charge of costumes and props, created wildly appropriate costumes for this production. Some of the costumes are wonderful parodies of the costumes in the original productions. For example, Jitter makes a fast costume change from slacks and a shirt to a shimmering evening gown that is slit above his knees. He wears a headdress, including feathers and glittering jewels. He also continues wearing his black shoes and socks and the top of his evening gown is crowned by his hairy chest. And, once again, the costume gets the laugh. Of course, this is a pared down production, meaning the show doesn't have a lot of production values. For example, in the Lloyd Webber section, June becomes Junita - think of Evita. Junita and/or Evita is knocked down by an imaginary chandelier from The Phantom of the Opera. (Don't look for logic; look for a good time.) Later, when the Phantom from The Phantom of the Opera removes his mask, the audience discovers who he really is - a cat from Cats. The production runs about 100 minutes, including intermission. The parody could not hold up for a much longer production. As the show is produced, the jokes fly by so fast that the audience is laughing constantly or finally has to look away to get a breath and move forward. Some theater companies that have produced The Musical of Musicals have offered a free ticket to anyone who comes to see the show five or six times in order to get all of the jokes. Someone with no knowledge of the American musical theater could enjoy this production, but the production becomes a richer experience if the audience member has seen some of the shows that are parodied. Rockwell and Bogart are not above skewering themselves, too. They point one of the last lines of the show at themselves, when they write 'Couldn't they write a new show?'
If their work remains at this quality, audiences will be clamoring for them to write a new show - the sooner the funnier.
The Musical of Musicals should not be missed.
Meta-Musical The plot, not unlike many earnest and legit musicals, is gauze-thin. A guy, a gal, a villain, a crisis - the conceit of the show is that it tells this same story five different ways, each in the style of different musical- theatre legends. "Corn" is Rogers and Hammerstein, "The Woods" is Steven Sondheim, "Dear Abby" is Jerry Herman, "Aspects of Juanita" is Andrew Lloyd Webber, and "Speakeasy" is Kander and Ebb - you can get where this is going from the titles of the acts. For example, "Corn" is sort of an amalgamation of Oklahoma! and The Sound of Music, very "aw, shucks" in both senses of the phrase. It's corny and it's also about corn. A key to the appreciation of the jokes in the show is definitely a rabid love for and knowledge of the works of the titans of musical theatre. In "Corn," for example, there are references to the choreographer of Oklahoma! and a quip that requires knowledge of the lyrics to "People Will Say We're in Love." Not terribly obscure stuff, but those whose only experience of musical theatre was hopping off the tour bus to see Phantom of the Opera may feel lost and mildly annoyed, as did a few audience members at a recent matinee (although matinee audiences often seem to look lost and mildly annoyed, as any actor can attest.) The Actor's Summit production of Musical features Kathleen Culler, most recently seen in Quilters, who is perfectly cast as a gee-whiz Every IngÈnue. Culler also gets to stretch her diva wings a bit in "Aspects of Juanita." Co-artistic director Mary Jo Alexander plays the wise confidante figure a la that "Climb Every Mountain" nun in Sound of Music, then gets her turn at spoofs of Jerry Herman's Grand Dames of the Grand Entrance, Dolly Levi and Auntie Mame. The fellas get to chaw up some scenery as well, with Joe Bishara stepping in as the Demon Barber and the Phantom, and Keith Stevens as a fresh-faced farmhand and a Cornelius Vandergelder-esque lovestruck swain. The performers all turn in inspired, energized work and easily convey the style and spirit of their composer-targets, particularly in the "Aspects of Juanita" skewering of Andrew Lloyd Webber, who Musical writers Eric Rockwell and Joanne Bogart seem to think deserves to occupy a very special circle of Musical Theatre Hell. Most other elements of the show bring out the best the material has to offer as well, from the lively musical accompaniment to the breezy choreography. However, the lighting cues were clunky in execution, so perhaps Actor's Summit should add "competent techie" to its wish list along with copy paper and lightbulbs. Aside from a Chorus Line homage finale, which brings the show to a grinding halt and not in a good way, musical theatre buffs with 25 bucks burning a hole in their pocket should have an OK time at Musical.
Polish Joke
Comedy pokes fun at ethnic hang-ups David Ives' Polish Joke isn't as witty or cerebral as his one-act All in the Timing, which Actors' Summit produced last spring, but it has its laughs.
The current comedy at the Hudson theater follows a young man, Jasiu Sadlowski, as he tries to deny his Polishness and "reinvent" himself as an Irishman. The trouble is, no matter what Jasiu does, the universe seems to be continually pushing him toward Poland.
The most surreal scenes are the funniest in this 2003 play. In one, Jasiu (played by Peter Voinovich) is treated as an invisible nonentity when he tries to buy flowers on the wrong side of town. Alicia Kahn is especially funny in this scene, where she appears blind to a Polish man's presence.
The scene represents a climax in Jasiu's quest to deny his heritage: He fears he will never accomplish anything because he is a "Polack."
In another surreally comical scene, a perverted doctor (Bob Keefe) and a sexy nurse (Kahn) plague Jasiu about his Polishness just before he's trying to take off for Ireland.
As humorous as this show can be, Ives makes a statement about the hang-ups and shame many people have about their ethnicity. Most of us have known someone who wanted more than anything to blend in and just be a homogeneous "American."
In Jasiu's case, he wallows in despair and the belief that life is meaningless simply because he's Polish. By harping on stereotypes, Ives, who is Polish-American, mocks them. The playwright also takes aim at the Irish, Lithuanians, Latvians and Jews.
The repetition Ives uses throughout the play when referring to ethnic characteristics is amusing, and he has a fun way of spinning phrases, such as "the luck of the Polish." It's no surprise he was named one of the "100 Smartest New Yorkers" by The New Yorker in the 1990s.
Actors' Summit director Neil Thackaberry has assembled a versatile cast of five, the most pliable being Frank Jackman as Uncle Roman, a Polish sanitation worker, a Polish American Revolutionary War hero and a crazy Pole who tunnels to America. Talk about a wild array of roles.
Keefe also does a nice job playing everyone from a priest to a crazed Irishman. Rounding
out the cast is Kathleen Culler in five roles, including Jasiu's Jewish girlfriend.
MaryJo Alexander has created a simple, effective set with the red and white Polish flag as both a floor covering and a backdrop. Those colors have some seriously funny implications in this comedy: Check out Kahn as the crazily lisping Magda, Jasiu's childhood friend who wears red and white.
Polish Joke has few serious moments, but Kahn is convincing as Olga, who finally puts Jasiu in his place. She puts Polish national pride in perspective and even references the 3 million Poles who died in the Holocaust.
Jasiu and his uncle talk about Polishness and all the angst that comes along with it as being "the human condition." But the moral of the story is that no matter what our individual ethnicities may be, people are all the same at heart.
Miller's `Death' still shows life Director Alex Cikra and his players create a world of beautiful desperation in Actors' Summit's production of Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman.
That tone begins with the dim lighting in this modern tragedy's first scene, from the moment title character Willy Loman walks on stage with his slumped head and ragged voice.
Neil Thackaberry gives an unforgettable performance as washed-up salesman Willy. It's striking how he transforms his brightly booming, radio-quality voice -- dulling it and blunting his pronunciations to portray this despairing, ordinary guy.
In this story, set in the late 1940s in Brooklyn, Willy Loman tries to make sense of why he has failed as a salesman. As he loses his grip on reality, he drifts into scenes from his past, revealing how he has falsely relied on being well-liked as a means to success.
This story has plentiful irony as Willy slips between illusion and reality: He places his faltering hopes for the American Dream in his good-for-nothing sons, whom he has taught that lying, stealing and cheating will get them ahead.
It's a credit to Cikra that every nuance of his actors' performances serves to help the audience clearly see Willy's folly, yet we empathize with this deeply flawed character as his wasted life spirals downward.
The Pulitzer Prize-winning Death of a Salesman was Miller's third play, premiering on Broadway in 1949. It's had four revivals, the most recent in 1999, which garnered Tonys for stars Brian Dennehy and Akron native Elizabeth Franz.
The Actors' Summit production is a big treat with a cast that includes several of Northeast Ohio's finest actors. Son Biff, portrayed by the excellent Nick Koesters, is the only character who grows and changes in this story. He shines in his character's final confrontation with Willy.
The rest of the Loman family is hopelessly stuck, although mother Linda has a tragic nobility that actress Paula Duesing achingly brings to life. Her Linda is old and downtrodden, yet fiercely protective of her husband.
John Galbraith also is believable as the immoral Happy, who has inherited his father's illusions of grandeur and false notions of success. Deb Holthus does a brief but nice turn as a woman with whom Willy has an affair.
Rounding out the cast is the versatile Marc Moritz, who convincingly takes on five roles: young Bernard; his father, Charley; Willy's brother, Ben; and Willy's boss, Stanley. Within seconds, Moritz takes on entirely different personas with just the change of a hat or an altered accent.
Actors' Summit has cut two very small female parts from the play, but no meaning is sacrificed in the restaurant scene where Miller originally placed them to tempt Biff and Happy.
Set designer MaryJo Alexander has created a representational, no-frills Loman household that differs dramatically from Miller's detailed stage directions. The focus is the kitchen, with a small bed at stage right and some very simple boys' bunks on a riser above.
At Actors' Summit, you don't see rooftops crammed around the Loman household, as Miller called for. This sparse set allows us to focus largely on character, and we can amply imagine how Willy feels closed in by his little life.
Miller holds a timeless mirror up to American society in this tragedy of the corruption of the common man.
It's one thing to lose the American dream: Playwright Miller saw his own father struggle with losing a business during the Great Depression.
But the ultimate tragedy may be the inability to admit to yourself that you never had it to begin with.
Actors' Summit Stages American Classic Miller watched the rehearsal of this masterpiece a number of years ago when Brian Dennehy played the salesman Willie Loman. As he watched, Miller commented, "When this Willie Loman goes down, the whole theater will collapse."
Actors' Summit almost went down when Neil Thackaberry, as Willie, went down. Physically, Thackaberry is a big man. Even when he is playing a character, Thackaberry exudes his personal intelligence and a well-honed code of ethics. These qualities filter through his performance as Willie, the salesman who dreamed all of the wrong dreams.
Paula Duesing (Linda Loman) is a small woman, whose petite frame makes her stand for her husband and against her sons all the more touching. Duesing makes her Linda a typical 1940s wife. She doesn't stand up to her husband; she supports him. Would his life have been different if she had taken important stands in their lives or if she had worked outside the home? She loved her husband and did what he wanted even when she saw the impending disaster.
Willie, 62, is burnt out, used up and ready to be thrown away. He has lived the life of the salesman, driving from town to town on the East Coast, waiting to be waved in by cute receptionists and sexually willing secretaries. As Willie grew older, he realized the salesman's style changed and people laughed at his loud, brash style. Finally, he is out of work, owes money for his insurance and has only one mortgage payment left on his house.
The most hurtful part of his life is his sons Happy (John Galbraith) and Biff (Nick Koesters). Willie thought both of his sons could have accomplished anything they wanted, yet they've both grown up to be failures. Happy has a third-rate job with no prospects for improvement and a bad habit of spending his money on prostitutes (he can't get a regular girlfriend). Biff is a two-bit thief who loses job after job because he steals from his employers.
Willie plots his own suicide, and with the insurance paid, he leaves a legacy of $20,000 for his wife and sons. Yet, at Willie's funeral, Linda comments wistfully, "No one came."
Actors' Summit Does a Good Job of Selling a Miller Classic Running concurrently are the master playwright"s THE PRICE (Ensemble Theatre) and THE DEATH OF A SALESMAN (Actors' Summit). And, to the pleasure of local theatre-goers, both productions are excellent!
Arthur Miller, who died in 2005 at the age of 89, is considered to be one of America"s greatest modern playwrights. He authored many highly regarded works including "THE CRUCIBLE," "A VIEW FROM THE BRIDGE" and "ALL MY SONS." Many consider his greatest work to be "DEATH OF A SALESMAN," which premiered on Broadway on February 10, 1949, starring Lee J. Cobb. The play won a Tony Award, a New York Drama Critics' Award and a Pulitzer Prize. It was the first play ever to win all three of those awards. Miller, who continued in his writing to probe, "Is this the best way to live," features that theme in Salesman, which by most counts is the most studied American play in high schools and colleges.
The plot centers on Willy Loman, a salesman who has spent his whole life 'way out there in the blue, riding on a smile and a shoeshine,' proud of his ability to sell anything to anyone and to provide for his family. In reality, this is a dream of the reality...he is not successful, nor well liked, nor providing for his family.
As the play unfolds, he loses his job, the respect of his sons, and finally, his hope. He finds himself needing to face reality, but unable to do so. Miller uses flashbacks to create a stream of conscious to illustrate Willy"s lack of reality. He is a modern day tragic hero, whose flaws lead to his destruction.
He dies, as he has lived, by creating a false illusion. Is this the best way to live?
The play takes place in a small house in Brooklyn. Originally in the country, the home in the play is now surrounded by high-rise buildings. The house really exists. The Miller family lived there. Ironically, it is around the corner from my aunt and uncle"s apartment and, when I visited them, I would walk over to see the residence, and realized that it, much like Willy, was overwhelmed and lost by the reality of the world which surrounds it.
Actors' Summit"s production, under the direction of Alex Cikra is quite good. Though a little slow in places, the play"s intent is clear. A. Neil Thackaberry, coming off an amazing performance in Actors' Summit"s "QED," gives Willy the right physical and emotional dimensions. Here is a stoop-shouldered hunk of a man who walks as if defeated, weighted down by not only his salesman"s valises, but by his self-created delusions. Interestingly, Thackaberry"s occasional stumbling over lines adds to the chaos in the character"s mind.
Paula Duesing does well as Linda, Willy"s brow-beaten enabler wife. One of her two major speeches is outstanding. Known as the 'respect must be paid' soliloquy, in which she summarizes Willy as an undistinguished man whose name will never appear in a newspaper, Duesing is emotionally right on target. Unfortunately, the final speech, the requiem, when Linda states that she is unable to cry and questions why, now that 'ìWe"re free and clear' Willy has killed himself, lacks the emotional gut-shaking reality that is needed to close the curtain on Willy"s delusions.
This production, however, belongs to Nick Koesters as Biff, the only Loman capable of finally realizing that he is not the superstar that Willy has dreamt up. Koesters is outstanding. In the scene in which he finds out the truth about his philandering father, his body sags, his eyes well, his lips tremble, the life goes out of his eyes as his world crashes down. Bravo!
John Galbraith is fine as the clueless Hap, the other son, who is well on his way to becoming another Willy.
Cikra"s decision to multi-cast Marc Moritz as five different people is questionable. Though Moritz is excellent, several scenes lose their focus because Moritz is forced to literally play two people at once. The set does more to distract than enhance the production. Not using see-through walls, which Miller meticulously describes in the play's notes, distracts from our ability to separate Willy"s realities from his illusions.
CAPSULE JUDGEMENT: "DEATH OF A SALESMAN" is a brilliant play. Actors' Summit generally does a fine job of showcasing this important work.
'Salesman' Scores Another Hit at Actors' Summit Miller endowed his flawed characters with a humanity and empathy that touches us all. An ensemble of first-rate actors, spearheaded by larger-than-life performances from Thackaberry as the doomed Willy and Nick Koesters as his lost son Biff, strikes at the very heart of this masterwork. Director Alex Cikra's well-paced production illuminates the contrast in action between present and past. The past takes place in Willy's mind. The intimacy of the theater allows for a close encounter with this American tragedy that is even more shattering in its immediacy. One structural weakness in this production wounds the play's credibility, though not fatally. Casting one actor to play all subsidiary characters, those in the present and the ones in Willy's memory, proves awkward and, at times, confusing. The most noticeable lapse occurs early in the play when Willy and his neighbor Charley are playing cards and Willy imagines he sees his brother Ben, who should appear as a real person.
However, Marc Moritz, who plays both Ben and Charley, must throw his voice between the two characters, like a ventriloquist playing both the puppeteer and the dummy. It's a huge directorial risk that doesn't work. Thackaberry, meanwhile, gives us a Willy who dissolves before our very eyes. The action takes place in the last 24 hours of Willy's life. He first appears on stage tired, defeated and visibly depressed. Finding the present unbearable, his retreat into fantasy and the past is already in evidence. Willy vents his rage, confusion and disappointment at a wife who remains steadfast but largely clueless as to what is happening to her husband and at a son who mirrors his own failures. Thackaberry is at his most magnificent as a family man who has failed as both father and husband. Living in a capitalistic society that emphasizes material values, Willy has a misguided sense of self. He is obsessed not only with financial success, but with appearances and impressions. What is important to Willy is being 'well-liked by others,' and he has passed these superficial values on to his two sons, Biff and Happy.
The tragedy of Willy Loman is that he never finds out who he is. He has all the wrong dreams. Desperately needing love and respect, he remains blind to those who freely offer it. Centerpiece of the play is the volcanic relationship between Willy and Biff. Biff is the only family member who comes to terms with who he is. Such self-knowledge frees him from his self-destructive tendencies and allows the love for his father to come through. Many stellar moments in the play come to mind, but two remain indelible. Koesters delivers a towering performance as the angry and defeated Biff, Willy's older son and favorite. Biff worships his father. Watching Biff crumble when he discovers his father's clandestine relationship in a Boston hotel is one of the finest moments of acting I have ever witnessed.
Without uttering a word, Biff's face droops, his lips quiver, his eyes lose their luster, and his body slumps as the realization of what is happening convulses through him like an electric shock. Later, the final act of forgiveness and reconciliation, in which Biff breaks down and cries and Willy realizes he is loved by his son, is shattering in its impact. Bravo to Koesters and Thackaberry for such theatrical rewards. A visibly cowed but steely Paula Duesing is superb as Linda Loman, Willy's long-suffering, steadfast wife who loves him unconditionally. Linda has no idea why Willy and Biff seem to hate each other. While Linda appears passive and acts like a doormat for her husband's emotional volatility, she is also the glue that keeps everyone together, and her 'boys' adore her. Linda's tearful play on the word 'free' in the requiem is the final irony. John Galbraith captures the shallowness of Happy, a womanizer and mid-level clerk who suffers from the same illusions and fantasies as his father; he's also destined to make the same mistakes. 'I'll get married,' Hap half-promises his parents, with a casualness that confirms the lie. Moritz handles his multiple roles with aplomb. He is most effective as Ben, Willy's successful brother who fled to Alaska in search of their absentee father and came back a very rich man. Ben's success stands in stark contrast to Willy's failure. So does Charley's son Bernard (played just right by a nerdy Moritz), who succeeds where Biff and Hap have failed. Moritz also portrays Howard, Willy's unsympathetic boss, and Charley, his best friend and neighbor who gives Willy the money to pay his bills. Deb Holthus has the cameo role as The Woman, with whom Willy has an affair. MaryJo Alexander's cramped set design illuminates the claustrophobia, both real and psychological, that overtakes Willy and his family. As my husband was brushing snow off the car before heading home, Thackaberry emerged from the theater. He thanked us for coming on such a blustery evening. Doing this play, he said, is like climbing Mt. Everest every night. Thackaberry and company have reached the summit successfully.
QED (4 Reviews)
Quirks and Quarks Smaller but just as challenging, Peter Parnell's 'QED' takes us to the Cal Tech office of Feynman, a Nobel-winning pioneer of quantum electrodynamics, a member of the team that invented the atomic bomb, a bongo player and a practical joker.
It's a fascinating examination of a quirky guy who didn't mince words, particularly as a co-author of a report on the Challenger disaster. Quarks and photons fly, and so do ideas about existence and defining it.
And it's a chance for an actor to command a stage in near-solitude (a student shows up a few times) as a huge personality (as did Alan Alda in New York).
Actors' Summit artistic director Neil Thackaberry acquits himself well under the steady, sure direction of Wayne Turney.
Thackaberry stumbles a few times on the play's voluminous and complex language but touches us with Feynman's exuberance about the Southern Siberian state of Tuva, his lasting love for his dead wife and his own battle with the cancer that would eventually kill him in 1988.
Outstanding 'QED' at Actors' Summit You might think,'This reviewer has gone off the deep end.' Whether the latter statement is true or not isn"t the issue. The fact remains that physics, cancer treatment and musical theatre blended with marvelous acting and focused directing, does make for an enticing evening of theatre.
Where? It's on stage Actors" Summit which is presenting Peter Farnell"s play 'QED' about Richard Feynman, the renowned physicist, professor and Nobel Prize winner. QED stands for Quantum Electrodynamics, which was Feynman's field.
QED is also the abbreviation for 'quod erat demonstrandum,' which basically means 'that proves it.' And what Farnell proves is not only that Feynman was a genius, who was part of the team that developed the atomic bomb, but a person of enormous warmth, creativity and passion. He was a real person who was as at home at the blackboard figuring out abstract formulas as playing the King of Bali Hai in a college production of "SOUTH PACIFIC."
Alan Alda portrayed Feynman in both the Los Angeles and Broadway productions of "QED." A review stated of his Big Apple performance, ìAlda's everyman demeanor is perfectly suited to this play; he is capable of winning over the audience immediately and guiding them, with a gentle hand, through what might otherwise be impossibly difficult subject matter.
It is, however, always Feynman onstage. Alda has no problem vanishing into the character of Feynman here, with his manic mannerisms and strong adaptation to the "stream of consciousness" style of Parnell's script. The reviewer could have penned those words about Neil Thackaberry"s performance. His is a tour de force enactment. Under Wayne Turney"s capable directing, Thackaberry spends his almost one-and-a half hours on stage in what is close to a solo piece, talking to the audience, yakking on the phone and briefly interacting with a female student (Miriam, capably portrayed by Jocelyn Roueiheb), who may be as interested in him as an intellect as a potential sex mate.
Throughout, we remain fascinated. We are compelled to share in his intimate decisions about whether or not to have yet another operation to curb his raging cancer, his dealings with a group of visiting Russian dignitaries, and his performance in the musical.
CAPSULE JUDGEMENT: Actors" Summit seems to deal exceptionally well with solo shows. Their "CLARENCE DARROW: A ONE MAN SHOW," which starred Thackaberry and "GIVE "EM HELL HARRY," which starred Turney, the play"s director, were both outstanding. Add 'QED' to that list! This is a must see performance.
Physicist Larger Than Life at Actors'Summit
Anyone who thought scientists were just dry, nerdy, solitary types should take a look at Actors' Summit's QED to learn about the highly colorful Richard Feynman, an exuberantly eccentric, real-life American physicist.
As director Wayne Turney said, this guy did break the mold: The famous Nobel Laureate who reinvented how physicists think worked on the atom bomb and served on the federal commission that investigated the space shuttle Challenger disaster. But Feynman also was a thespian and a bongo drummer, and developed a wacky obsession for the Russian land of Tuva. The story takes place in Feynman's office at the California Institute of Technology in 1988. Feynman - who is musing over his life as he contemplates death - is continually interrupted by phone calls and visitors. This is largely a one-man show, and actor/artistic director Neil Thackaberry is up to the part. Although at times he appeared to be grasping for some of his lines opening weekend, the problem disappeared by the second act. But Thackaberry is too young for this role: Feynman was 68 when this story took place. Feynman also is supposed to be having trouble adapting to a body that's breaking down. Although the character talks about his ailments, we don't get a feeling of physical frailty from Thackaberry, who has a powerful build and healthy appearance. Actress Jocelyn Roueiheb does have several choice moments onstage as student Miriam Field, but about 90 percent of the show is Thackaberry's. Some of the show's funniest moments occur with extended conversations between professor and student through a closed door. The sexual tension portrayed between Feynman and his student gave me the heebie jeebies. But that's just the sort of guy Feynman purportedly was: He once served as a defense witness for the owner of a topless bar that he frequented. I can just picture him writing physics equations on a napkin while watching the entertainment. It's good to see Turney - previously an Actors' Summit regular - back in a guest directing role from DeSales University outside Allentown, Penn. Feynman's chalkboard mantra was "What I cannot create I don't understand." For those who may worry that this play may be too science-oriented, don't worry about any genius jargon. The character Feynman spends most of his time talking about his varied interests, his relationships and colorful anecdotes from his career, which are painted in broad strokes. At one point, as Feynman talks about the properties of light, he alludes to how "the angle incidence equals angle of refraction." Most people would remember that from their high school physics books, but Feynman doesn't even use terms as technical as that. As his character talks about physics, Thackaberry breaks the fourth wall, talking directly to the audience and even interacting with my neighbor by throwing a ball to him. The gentleman seemed tickled, but, alas, dozed off later. Although my mind wandered a couple of times during the show, what struck me most about this piece was that Feynman was a renaissance man who bridged that gap just that by being himself.
Eccentric free spirit subject of 'QED' HUDSON - Richard Feynman (1918-88) is the subject of the biodrama 'QED,' which is on stage at Actors' Summit Theater through Jan. 28. Feynman was a member of the Manhattan Project team, the group that developed the atomic bomb. He also served on the Presidential Rogers Commission, which investigated the Challenger disaster of 1986. He played the bongos, frequented topless bars, enjoyed playing small roles in university theatrical productions and received the Nobel Prize in Physics in 1965. He also held the Richard Chace Tolman professorship in theoretical physics at California Institute of Technology. Interestingly, however, during his long and distinguished career, he only published 37 research papers. 'QED' was written by Peter Parnell. It grew out of a suggestion actor Alan Alda made to Parnell about Feynman as a topic for a play. Alda went on to play Feynman on Broadway. Parnell co-produced the TV series 'The West Wing,' on which Alda had a role, and wrote three episodes for the first season of the series. Actors' Summit's production features Neil Thackaberry, co-artistic director of Actors' Summit, as Feynman. Thackaberry is alone on the stage for most of the production. He is visited briefly in both acts by Miriam Field (Jocelyn Roueiheb), a student. The playwright has Feynman speak directly to the audience as if we're friends he hasn't seen for a long time. Feynman is interrupted by telephone calls, visits from a student and stomach pains that require he immediately take a pill. The play takes place in his office on a Saturday morning, when he is preparing to give a lecture on the topic of 'What We Know.' The show is filled with Feynman's stream of consciousness as he prepares the lecture, answers phone calls and readies himself for a walk-on role in a university production of 'South Pacific.' Famous as a raconteur, he tells stories of his past, leaping from anecdote to anecdote with characteristically chaotic energy. Feynman is ill with cancer in one of his kidneys. He debates with the doctor and with himself about whether he should have the cancer removed and risk losing the function of the kidney. This debate leads to his discussion of religion. Raised in a Jewish family, he has rejected all religions and is an atheist. But as he faces a serious illness, he thinks about religion and what it could mean to him as he faces the end of his life. Director Wayne Turney has brought one of Thackaberry's best performances to the stage. Turney is theater savvy and makes the right choices for Thackaberry and for this production. Thackaberry is at the peak of his powers in what is essentially a one-man show. Thackaberry makes Feynman witty, intelligent, sentimental and scared. A one-man show is difficult for the actor and for the audience, but Thackaberry makes it work. Yet 'QED' is still tough going for the audience. Oh, yes, the title 'QED' stands for quantum electrodynamics. Feynman was known, in part, for expanding the theory of QED. Arms and The Man (5 Reviews) Actors' Summit embraces Shaw with well-armed cast There are plays worth seeing. And then there are plays worth seeing again and again and again. Such a play is "Arms and the Man." As an early work, it isn't quite as fraught with the modern major morals that give teeth to George Bernard Shaw's more mature sermons. The portrayal here of society, war and romance has a barb, but it's all easygoing fun. Three seasons ago, Great Lakes Theater Festival had a ball with the play, as did the even broader Shaw Festival production in Canada this past summer. Actors' Summit, a small Actors' Equity Association-affiliated theater in a former warehouse in Hudson, has neither a budget nor a facility that can compete with those festivals. But Actors' Summit need make apologies to no one for its chamber version of "Arms and the Man." As is typical at Actors' Summit (which produced a worthy "Candida" a couple of seasons back), director Neil Thackaberry occasionally lets a good moment for laughter and/or thoughtfulness slip by. But the pace never flags. Also as usual, Thackaberry spouse MaryJo Alexander spins straw into gold, creating rich (or at least a good illusion of rich) costumes on a minuscule budget. The sets are more useful than lavish, but the two scene changes (it's an old-fashioned three-act play with two intermissions; but don't worry, the whole thing seems a lot briefer than its two hours and 20 minutes) are amazing to watch in themselves. But the real draw here is the cast, starting with Dorothy and Reuben Silver as Ma and Pa Pet- koff, the slightly out- of-touch Bulgarian parent figures. (Bulgarian only because Shaw wanted an exotic locale; this play is all about the Brit ish.) Cleveland's reigning actorly couple don't rest on their considerable laurels, but continue to demonstrate what has made them legends. Their performance together is a single unit: They overlap each other's dialogue, touch and glance at just the right moments, illuminating the love-hate relationship of marriage. The Silvers are just the beginning. On the male side of the equation, Dana Hart has Alec Baldwin good looks and a gracefully sanguine air as Capt. Bluntschli, the Chocolate Cream Soldier. As puffed-up Sergius, Joe Bishara strikes many amusing poses, but should go even further over the top. As good as they are, the guys are outdone by the ladies. Alicia Kahn radiates light and wonder as Raina, a picture-perfect coquette. Some director should really exploit her ineffable delicacies and inner strength by casting her to play a young Elizabeth I. Sally Groth brings earthy beauty and determination to servant-on-the-make Louka. Even if you've seen it recently, return to these "Arms." Vastly entertaining 'Arms and the Man' at Actors' Summit
No less so on the stage at Actors' Summit theater, where George Bernard Shaw's 1894 anti-war comedy 'Arms and the Man' reverberates louder than ever, more than 100 years later.
'Arms and the Man' is the first of what Shaw called his 'pleasant plays.' Less didactic, lighter and funnier than other works, the play's serious ideas are leavened with a volley of pungent wit.
The play pokes delicious fun at the romantic notions of war and the military hero, as well as at the English. While the Petkoffs flaunt their social status, a thin veneer of civility hides a peasant-like coarseness underneath. Major Petkoff cleans his ears with his table napkin, pinches the maid's bottom, and boasts of washing only once a week.
Her porcelain prettiness framed by a mop of Victorian curls, Alicia Kahn is delightful as the starry-eyed Raina, whose love for Sergius is akin to hero worship. She is in love with the idea of being in love, rather than the man himself. The understated naturalness of Bluntschli contrasts well with the exaggerating posturing of Sergius. First-rate cast stars in Actors' Summit's 'Arms'
HUDSON - George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950) is easy to dismiss now. Theaters seldom produce his plays, although versions of 'My Fair Lady' still play around the country, based on his 'Pygmalion.' We're fortunate that Actors' Summit Theater in Hudson has mounted a fine production of Shaw's 'Arms and the Man.' Shaw first produced 'Arms and the Man' in 1894, and the exquisite language and the theme of the play still resonate with audiences. In 1908, Oscar Straus brought to the stage 'The Chocolate Soldier,' an operetta based on 'Arms and the Man.' The operetta had great success, and in 1940 it was adapted to the screen with Nelson Eddy and Rise Stevens playing the leads. Set in a small village in Bulgaria in 1885, 'Arms and the Man' deals with the family of Paul Petkoff, a military officer. This family finds romance and excitement in war. The men in the family wear ornate military uniforms and the women exclaim about the battles and the victories until one would think they were watching football on television. Paul's forces have found victory and are chasing the Serbian army through the village. One Swiss soldier, Captain Bluntschli (Dana Hart), seeks refuge in the bedroom of Raina Petkoff (Alicia Kahn). Raina is intrigued with this handsome soldier, who tells of a cavalry charge led by Raina's fiance, Major Sergius Saranoff (Joe Bishara). Bluntschli doesn't carry bullets, but rather chocolate candy. Raina agrees to protect him until he can escape. With her mother's help, she dresses Bluntschli in Paul's coat and sends him away. In the second and third acts, the military return home to a hero's welcome. Paul (Reuben Silver) is greeted by his wife, Catherine Petkoff (Dorothy Silver), and daughter. Sergius returns to posture and pose as a military hero. The plot thickens when Bluntschli arrives to return the coat he had borrowed. When Bluntschli describes the horrors of war, Raina and her family begin to realize that war, indeed, is hell. Shaw takes a strong anti-war stand in this play. Raina soon learns what the audience has known all along. Bluntschli is the better of the two men. She dismisses Sergius, who finds romance in the arms of Louka (Sally Groth), the maid, who wants a husband with money and position. Director Neil Thackaberry keeps the action and the dialogue light and airy. This, of course, makes the discussion of war all the more disquieting. The show is well directed and that, of course, makes for an interesting production. In the third act, note the heating stove in the playing area. In Eastern Europe, these ornate porcelain stoves provided heat and served as a work of art in the family rooms. MaryJo Alexander (costumes) brought to the stage gowns for the women and military uniforms for the men that are accurate to the period depicted in the play. In addition, note the difference in the costumes for the servants and those for the wealthy. Thackaberry has surrounded himself with a first-rate cast. What a pleasure it is to watch Dorothy and Reuben Silver. I've read many glowing reviews of their work. Reuben Silver has been a member of Actors Equity for more than 50 years. One can only hope that audiences will continue to be entertained by this wonderful couple for another 50 years. Kahn makes Raina properly silly and dumb. But Kahn permits the audience to watch Raina's growth as a person as she deals with two men who are interested in courting her. By the end of the play, Raina has become a new woman. Hart makes Bluntschli one of the few real characters on the stage. He admits to liking chocolate better than battle. He admits to lying, and he admits to being a real human being. Bishara poses and postures as the military hero pompous enough to get the laughs. Finally, his Sergius realizes that he, too, is a fool. Groth plays the servant girl with ambitions beyond the kitchen. She knows she has few options in life. If she has to marry a rich fool, that's better than marrying a poor fool. 'Arms and the Man' continues through Nov. 19. This is a solid production that should not be missed. Also, don't leave the theater during intermission. Watching the change in scenery will give audience members a new appreciation for power tools.
Mild, anti-war rhetoric in `Arms and the Man' One generation's social satire is another generation's warm milk. The problem with George Bernard Shaw's Arms and the Man is that its targets are so predictable. A new production at Actors' Summit Theater in Hudson opened Friday night with a solid cast that brings well-oiled professionalism and spirit, if not any surprises, to the story. Shaw's 1898 comedy was years ago turned into an operetta, The Chocolate Soldier, in which the music by Oscar Straus often surpasses the book. (The operetta is in the repertory of the Ohio Light Opera in Wooster.) Even in the original play, where Shaw's words stand intact, it's disappointing how blandly it can come across. Neil Thackaberry's stage direction is true to the drawing-room cheerfulness of Shaw's work, and characterizations generally are, too. Costumes designed by MaryJo Alexander suggest styles that might have been worn by a newly rich family in late 1880s Bulgaria. Catherine Petkoff, played with a cozy ease by Northeast Ohio stalwart Dorothy Silver, brags that her family has been known in Bulgaria for a good long time: "almost 20 years.'' The family is absurdly proud of its library, which boasts more knickknacks than books in its meager collection. This comes across as a cheap shot, since Catherine and her husband, Maj. Paul Petkoff, seem pleasant-enough people who aren't guilty of anything except being new to the business of wealth. Shaw resorts to unpleasant national slurs, setting up Paul Petkoff (Reuben Silver, the other half of the veteran acting team) as a provincial through his comments about unnecessary washing of hands. The Bulgarians are at war with the Serbians. As Capt. Bluntschli, the affable escaping Serbian soldier who would rather eat chocolate than kill anyone, Dana Hart had an amiable twinkle about him. Raina, Petkoff's self-important daughter (Alicia Kahn), learns from Bluntschli the value of being sincere instead of affecting her drama-school poses for every situation. Will Raina stick with her betrothed, Maj. Sergius Saranoff (Joe Bishara, whose expressions belonged more in a kids' adventure movie) or drop him for the Chocolate Soldier? Enter Louka, an independent-minded servant girl (is there any other kind, other than the high-spirited soubrette?) played with dignity by the dusky-voiced Sally Groth. Louka has both Sergius and her fellow servant, Nicola (Bob Keefe), interested in her, though neither deserve her. She reveals the truth that each is despicable in his own way, Sergius for cheating on his betrothed and Nicola for seeing her as more useful to him as Sergius' wife than as his own. Funny, huh? Shaw's writing builds to the third movement, where Raina and Bluntschli confront each other and their feelings. The point where Raina drops her mask is a welcome bold note in a play where the put-downs are silly and the anti-war rhetoric is as mild as milk chocolate.
'Arms and the Man' highlights Shaw's message at Actors' Summit A director of 'ARMS AND THE MAN' has a decision to make. Should the play be staged as a comedy or as a no-holds-barred farce? The former approach allows Shaw's lines to carry the humor and create the message. The latter allows the audience to have a whale of a good time laughing at the outlandishness of the actors, the setting, overblown concept, and even the costumes. When the Shaw Festival of Canada produced the show earlier this year, the director did it as a no-holds-barred farce. The characters were much bigger than life. The lines were so broadly presented that everything short of holding up 'laugh now' signs was present. The result was that Shaw's messages, including women's rights ('People don't live up to their ideals.'), the ridiculousness of the upper classes ('Everything I think is mocked by everything I do.'), the stupidity of war ('War is a sham, like love.'), and the absurdity of existence ('Life's a farce.') were often not on the surface for all to grasp, but the audience had one heck of a good time. A. Neil Thackaberry, the director of the Actor's Summit production, decided to follow Shaw's own words, 'Life isn't a farce,' and present the play as a comedy. In general, the languid pace and Shavian message-centered-approach worked well. The story concerns Raina, the wealthy young daughter of a rich Bulgarian nobleman and her relationships with a pompous, weak-minded yet extremely handsome military bumbler, as well as the 'Chocolate Soldier,' an intelligent, charming mercenary who is befriended when he sneaks into her bed chamber in order to avoid being killed by her countrymen. Through a series of unbelievable and silly incidents, everything turns out exactly as it should. The production is blessed with some wonderful performances by Alicia Kahn, Dana Hart, Dorothy Silver and Reuben Silver. Kahn creates her Raina as a spoiled, dreamer of fairy-tale love, who is also a pragmatist. She is both charming and delightful in creating a consistent characterization. Hart, as Captain Bluntschli, is right on key as the clever mercenary, who, like his beloved chocolate creams, is crusty on the outside, but soft on the inside. He creates an appealing 'chocolate soldier.' The Silvers, as always, texture their characters as Raina's parents, with meaningful double-takes and delightful character development. On the other hand, Joe Bishara as the supposedly arrogant Sergius, just isn't pompous and self-puffed up enough. He looks the role, but plays at being Sergius, rather than being the character. His inconsistency is the major weakness of the production. Sally Groth as Louka, the servant, is adequate, but doesn't have the spark, the incendiary characteristics needed to make her more royalty than servant. orking on a limited budget, Mary Jo Alexander's costumes are quite representative of the era, but lack of the quality to make for total believability. The set was not of the opulence that would be expected by the 'only family in Bulgaria to have a library.' The humor of the 'only library' was ruined because the room was missing books. There should have been a few clearly highlighted volumes to draw the irony of Shaw's stressing the literary storage area. (This is another of Shaw's hits on the inept educational system and showmanship rather than actual edification of the upper classes.) APSULE JUDGEMENT: Actors' Summit's 'ARMS AND THE MAN' makes for a pleasant evening of theatre, which has a languid pace that cuts down on the gaiety, but does increase understanding of Shaw's concepts, making it a production worth seeing. Tuesdays with Morrie Poignant, Passionate, Personal "Tuesdays With Morrie" We may not realize the fact that immediately after birth we are actually on our way to death. We may not realize we are near death until we are old or have an incurable disease. Such is the case with Morrie Schwartz (Glenn Colerider), retired Brandeis University Sociology professor, who is 78 and has debilitating and terminal ALS disease. Morrie does not complain of his malady. His wisdom is even celebrated and highlighted on television's "Night Line" hosted by Ted Koppel. This event catches the attention of one of Morrie's former Sociology students from of 16 years ago. Now a famous sports writer, radio and television commentator, Mitch Albom (Peter Voinovich) catches the TV show and, riddled with guilt, pays Morrie a visit. This leads to weekly visits every Tuesday. This is the premise of "Tuesdays With Morrie" at Actors' Summit Theatre in Hudson until October 22nd. This is a live stage version of the successful book and Emmy Award-winning 1999 television movie of the same name. For a little over an hour and a half, we witness (without intermission) the rekindled friendship between mentor and student. If we watch two actors for that length of time we hope they hold our attention. Not to worry. Colerider and Voinovich rise to, and surpass our highest expectations for an evening of first-rate, live theatre. The experience is intimate, personal, revealing, and poignant. One might think the play is about death, yet it celebrates life: actually two lives. Through monologs and dialog we learn about Mitch and Morrie, respectfully, then the relationship of the two men together. Morrie is ready to die. Mitch has reached success but is not really living. Morrie's wise sayings and witticisms pepper the production. One could almost publish a booklet entitled, "The Sayings of Morrie." We witness, at the play's beginning, both men addressing us directly and telling us of their respective backgrounds. Mitch, a poorly dressed college kid of the 1960's with an unlit cigarette continually dangling from his mouth is mesmerized by the teachings of Morrie Schwartz. Being in the 1960's, any student who fails is automatically eligible for the military draft. This is, after all, during the Vietnam War. Morrie's solution to the problem is give all his students passing grades. Mitch, no dummy, decides to not only major in Sociology but "Morrie." After graduation, Mitch gives Morrie a leather briefcase with his initials on it and promises to "keep in touch." But, alas, after trying to be a jazz pianist in NYC and living with his uncle, Mitch quits after his uncle's death at age 42 of cancer. Mitch goes to college in NYC and earns a Masters Degree in Journalism. Sixteen years pass, yet Mitch has not kept his promise with Morrie. Success has engulfed Mitch with a syndicated sports column in the Detroit Free Press, a radio and television program. Materially, Mitch is on top of the world. Spiritually and emotionally, Mitch has hit rock bottom. After spotting Morrie on "Nightline," a guilty Mitch phones his old professor to see how he's doing. One Tuesday visit leads to eventual visits every Tuesday with Morrie. We sadly watch as Morrie gradually weakens and becomes more dependent on others. We also watch Mitch come to grips with his fame. Morrie, in his ever weakening state, teaches Mitch to be stronger, be more independent, and be more "alive." The intimacy of Actors' Summit stage is perfect for this production. The seating is close to the stage. The stage furniture and props are few and functional, to let us focus on what is said, not what is seen. In one poignant scene, in dim light, instead of actor Colerider getting out of his wheelchair and walking to his bed, Voinovich as Mitch wheels Colerider as Morrie to the bed and lifts him out of the chair and onto the bed. You can't get any better with character involvement than that. Colerider, resembling an aging Ray Walston, has the challenge of physically weakening his Morrie character until the character's death. No easy task, but Colerider has Morrie mastered. The play's end is very emotional. We rightfully should mourn Morrie's death. Colerider as Morrie is seen in dark light waltzing to a favorite tune, like he used to do in life. Voinovich as Albom goes from wandering college student to successful sports writer. Then, with success all around him, Voinovich's Mitch must truly find himself and be comfortably honest with himself. Voinovich does all tasks well. As a comic afterthought Voinovich's Albom still wears the same tie throughout the entire production! For a first-rate live theatre experience of a personal relationship between two men, Actors' Summit Theatre lends perfect atmospheric intimacy to showcase a dying man's effort in teaching his younger protge how to live.
Actors" Summit stages moving production of "Tuesdays With Morrie" HUDSON - "Are you at peace with yourself?" "Tuesdays With Morrie" has an interesting history. The book "Tuesdays With Morrie" was written by Mitch Albom in 1997 and was featured in Oprah Winfrey"s Oprah"s Book Club. The book sold more than 5 million copies and was adapted to a TV movie for ABC. Winfrey produced the TV movie, which starred Hank Azaria and Jack Lemmon. The TV version received four Emmy Awards. The story is autobiographical. Albom was a jazz pianist and turned to sports writing, where he has had a successful career. The story deals with a sociology teacher, Morrie (Glenn Colerider), who works at Brandeis University. Morrie established a friendship with a student, Mitch (Peter Voinovich), that lasted until Morrie"s death. On the stage we see a bit of the relationship as it forms. However, most of the 90-minute production deals with Mitch"s visits to Morrie, while Morrie dies of ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig"s disease. The audience knows from early in the production that Morrie will die. But more important than his death is how he lives. In their Tuesday meetings, the two men reveal stories of their lives, and Morrie leads his young friend in a discussion of how life should be lived. Morrie returns repeatedly to the idea that we must live life as a human. According to Morrie, to live life as a human we must treat people with kindness, understanding and affection. He argues that forgiving others provides the forgiver with peace. Morrie would also include touch and feeling as important parts of the human condition. "Tuesdays With Morrie" fits nicely into Actors" Summit"s area-style theater. However, it is Jocelyn Roueiheb (light and sound control) who does a great job bringing in the sound cues on time and at the appropriate level. In addition, each scene change is signaled by a change in lighting. Director Neil Thackaberry keeps a lid on the sentimentality that could overcome the actors and the audience. Every scene is played with great discipline and control. In the final scenes, when Mitch and Morrie acknowledge that Morrie will soon die and they attempt to say goodbye, the actors push the limits of emotions and move the audience to experience the loss of the good friend, too. Keep in mind, this production isn"t about death and dying. It"s about life and living. Nat King Cole (4 Reviews) Nat Cole 'bio-revue' reveals music, man The world premiere of "Nat King Cole & Friends" at Actors' Summit offers a pleasant, entertaining evening of well-loved tunes and interesting biographical information, an intimate look at the man and his music. The homegrown show was created by artistic director Neil Thackaberry and performer Kent LeMar, who portrays the famous pop musician. They have asked audiences to help in the development of the show by commenting on its length, song selection, amount of monologue and sound quality. This piece is far superior to the Cleveland Play House cabaret last winter titled "Walkin' My Baby Back Home," which offered 26 tunes that Cole sang but left audiences with no knowledge of the man himself. It didn't even include a biographical sketch of Cole in its program. Actors' Summit both entertains and informs with its piece, which it calls a 'bio-revue.' The story begins with the family's move from Alabama to Chicago, just on the tail of the 'flight out of Egypt' -- a mass migration of black Americans from the rural South to the North between 1916 and 1919. Nat, the son of a preacher/butcher father and a mother who taught him to play the piano, lived from 1919 to 1965. (By the way, the artist was born Nat Coles and later dropped the 's.') Cole excelled in piano in his preteens, and his love for jazz was nurtured in Chicago's clubs. Although he always sang, he thought of himself as a jazz pianist first. LeMar, an Actors' Summit regular who owns a dance studio in Cuyahoga Falls, creates a polished Cole who is ever charming, mellow, gentlemanly and affable. His singing of 23 short tunes is enjoyable, and his delivery of the biographical material is smooth and easy. Thackaberry apparently has directed LeMar to always smile, even when he is telling painful stories. Undoubtedly, this serves to illustrate Cole's optimism. Anecdotes of racism include white homeowners trying to force Cole out of the neighborhood after he has achieved success, as well as a horrifying story about thugs attacking him onstage with brass knuckles during a Southern tour. Cole was a pioneer, the first black performer to have both his own network radio show and his own TV show. Famous tunes in this stage show include Route 66, Christmas Song and Unforgettable. The show even includes the jingle Wild Root Cream Oil, which Cole performed on the radio. Audiences get to sing along with Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer, as well as part of the opening, Ramblin' Rose. The show is staged simply, with music director David Williams at the piano and LeMar using only a stool as a prop. It's nice to see LeMar take brief breaks and have the spotlight on excellent pianist Williams, who has performed with international musical tours and everywhere locally from Cleveland Play House to Severance Hall. LeMar also is a delight when he sits at the piano to accompany himself. The show amply highlights his multiple talents. In welcome news for Actors' Summit, the theater was nearly sold out on a recent Saturday night, which attests to the easy popularity of this material. Nat King Cole just may have legs to go on the road, which is one of the creators' goals.
'Nat King Cole' is engaging bio-revue mix The last few days of summer can't have been too idle for Kent LeMar and A. Neil Thackaberry. Hazy and crazy, perhaps. But lazy? Probably not. That's because their new Nat "King" Cole revue, their first such effort in a creative, musical vein and a project a year in the making, is having its world premiere at Actors' Summit in Hudson. Thackaberry did the bulk of the research and wrote most of the script, but LeMar has the tougher end of the deal. Taking on the show's title role, he's in the spotlight at nearly every moment, channeling the famous crooner through song and spoken word. He even sits down at the piano for a few numbers, including "Nature Boy," "Route 66," and "It's Only a Paper Moon." Yet LeMar is remarkably well-suited for the demanding part, with a gently quavering voice that's light and smoky, if not always precisely on pitch, and a demeanor that's appropriately polite and polished. Altogether, his resemblance to Cole is strong, almost uncanny. On those occasions when LeMar isn't front and center, sitting on a stool on a bare stage, the singer is deferring to pianist David Williams, who proves to be not only a sensitive accompanist but also a consistently impressive fount of peppy solos and jazzy improvisations. The show should hold out appeal for fans and novices alike. Enduring favorites like "Straighten Up and Fly Right" and "I Love You For Sentimental Reasons" are present alongside a handful of lesser-known songs, including a cute advertising jingle for "Wild Root Cream Oil." The jingle, incidentally, is a relic from Cole's former radio show, the first network radio program to feature an African-American. Cole broke similarly historic ground on television. Of course, he encountered opposition, too, most violently in the form of a racially-motivated physical assault during a concert in Birmingham, Alabama. Thackaberry's script deftly weaves together these and many other well-researched biographical stories into a coherent, engaging narrative. Unlike some works in this genre, transitions between song and speech are generally smooth. The show's only significant flaw is the lack of a satisfying conclusion. Instead of winding down toward some profound, timeless observation, the show stops abruptly in mid-thought, as if on a timer. But even this bump is easy to overlook as LeMar sends off his audience in a wistful mood with Cole's greatest hit, "Unforgettable." Actors' Summit evokes spirit of Nat 'King' Cole HUDSON - 'Nat 'King' Cole,' which is on stage now at Actors' Summit Theater, is a pleasant way to spend a summer evening. The show, which is described as a biography/music/cabaret, features an evening of reminiscing with one of the best singers of the 20th century. Nathaniel Adams Cole, who took the stage name Nat 'King' Cole, was born in either 1917 or 1919 (the sources don't agree and Cole may have added a year or two to his age to perform in saloons when he started his career at 14). He died in 1965 of lung cancer. He was so popular in the 1950s that he appeared on 'The Ed Sullivan Show' eight times. He was the first African-American to have his own radio show (which ran from 1948 to 1949) and the first to have his own TV show (from 1956 to 1957). When the TV network had trouble getting sponsors for his show, Cole commented, 'Madison Avenue is afraid of the dark.' Kent LeMar, who plays Cole, and A. Neil Thackaberry, director, devised the script. The show includes 23 of Cole's hit songs laced together by stories from his life. For example, the early part of the evening includes stories of growing up, falling in love, getting married and launching a career. In the second half, the stories include Cole buying an expensive home in a restricted community. When the housing committee for the neighborhood met with Cole, they asked him to not move into their neighborhood because they didn't want undesirables. He explained to the committee members that if he saw any undesirables in the neighborhood, he'd report it right away. Later he tells of singing in Birmingham, Ala., and four thugs from the White Citizens Council, a branch of the Ku Klux Klan, jumped on the stage and hit him several times before the police could get them away from him. Later the audience demanded he return to the stage and gave him a five-minute standing ovation. His friend Frank Sinatra called Cole's wife to tell her of the incident and to let her know her husband was not seriously injured. 'Nat 'King' Cole' features a song Cole wrote with Irving Mills, 'Straighten Up and Fly Right.' Other songs in the show include 'Ramblin' Rose,' 'Nature Boy,' 'Route 66,' 'A Nightingale Sang in Berkely Square,' 'The Christmas Song,' 'Mona Lisa' and 'Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer,' which became a sing-a-long with the audience. LeMar tells the Cole stories with charm and good humor. He sounds like Cole and has developed the Cole smile and way of telling a story. LeMar so evokes Cole that it's tempting to stop the show and ask questions about Cole's life. I've not seen so many people smiling during a show. At times, I was sure I could hear people humming along while LeMar sang the favorites. This script is a work in progress. In fact, the program includes a handout for audience members to comment on the length of the show, songs that should be added and comments about Cole's conversation with the audience. Thackaberry said that ticket sales for 'Nat 'King' Cole' have been brisk.
Audience Likes Nat King Cole Tribute at Actors' Summit What do the songs "Pretend," "Route 66," "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire," "Rambling Rose," "It's Only a Paper Moon," "Nature Boy," "Mona Lisa" and "Too Young" all have in common? They are all hit songs recorded by Nathaniel Adams Cole, better known as Nat King Cole whose life is showcased in Actors' Studio's 'NAT "KING" COLE' by Kent LeMar & A. Neil Thackberry. Most think of Cole as a singer, but he was actually trained to be a classical pianist and never considered himself to be a singer, but as a jazz musician. In 1943, Cole recorded "Straighten Up and Fly Right," which was based on one of his preacher father's sermons. It became a smash hit and changed his musical life. Cole had many firsts. He was the first black jazz musician to have his own weekly radio show and the first black to have a weekly network television show. A heavy smoker, he died of lung cancer in 1965, but his music lives on. It is indeed a very pleasant evening of musical reminiscences for those brought up during the 50s and 60s. Do not go, however, expecting to see or hear Cole. What LeMar does is give a Cole impression, not a recreation. Though he has a nice voice, LeMar isn't a Cole duplicate. We've seen duplicates on the Actors' Summit stage. In past seasons Thackaberry transformed himself into Clarence Darrow and Wayne Turney morphed into Harry Truman. LeMar feigns Cole facial expressions, attempts to articulate the Cole speaking sound and give the deep jazz based sounds of the great singer. He is inconsistent in those attempts. Cole prided himself on his diction. He held his consonants and breathed life into his words. LeMar, though he tries, just doesn't give us the sound that allows us to close our eyes and hear Cole. His most Cole-esque interpretations were: "A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square, " "Sweet Embraceable You," "Christmas Song" and "When I Fall In Love." The script, though it does fill us with details of Cole's life, isn't well structured. Many of the songs are dropped in, they don't help develop the story as in a well integrated reviews. "Let There Be Love," "Too Young," "When I Fall in Love," "Wild Root Cream Oil" and "Smile" fit in. Most of the other songs don't. The script is being rewritten and it can only be hoped that more effort will be made to integrate the songs into the story. Because Cole was noted for sitting at the piano and singing, the fact that pianist David Williams plays most of the music, is off-setting. Williams is wonderful , but if this is supposed to be the real Cole performing for us, then Williams' presence doesn't make sense. This aspect is confusing as LeMar is an excellent pianist. CAPSULE JUDGEMENT: 'NAT "KING" COLE' is an audience pleaser. Due to its appeal, the show will be reprised on September 7 and run until the 24th on Friday and Saturday evenings and Sunday matinees, with some rewriting, including the addition of more musicians to emulate The King Cole Trio. This show has been playing to sold out audiences.
Crowd-pleasing "Cole" keeps audiences humming "Nat King Cole," the new bio-revue at Actors' Summit through Sept. 24, is an amiable walk down memory lane in the life and music of one of the 20th century's most well-known African-American recording stars. Created by Kent LeMar and A. Neil Thackaberry, artistic director at Actors' Summit, the entertaining show weaves material from Cole's life with two dozen songs the charismatic singer made famous. This is the third incarnation of the show, which has proved enormously popular with audiences. Indeed, for audience members of a certain age (that includes this reviewer), the songs brought back a flood of memories of a bygone era, eliciting audible humming and foot-tapping among its rapt listeners. In appearance, mannerisms and vocal style, Kent LeMar is a shoo-in for Cole. LeMar's winning smile, mellifluous croon, and interactive approach, (including a bit of singalong) engages the audience from the outset. LeMar serves as both narrator and vocalist, moving from story to song with seamless ease. The talented actor also plays a mean piano, sharing the keys with music director/pianist Roland Paolucci, who is joined by Brian King (bass) and Jeremey Poparad (guitar). All are accomplished musicians who add to the show's vitality. The thrust stage creates an intimate cabaret-type setting for the one-person show. The first act traverses Cole's childhood, family life, marriage and early career. The family moved to Chicago from the South during the early 1920s, when more than one million blacks sought a better life in the North. Cole's father was a strict Baptist preacher and butcher by trade (which helped support the family). He had no use for the "popular" music, including jazz and rhythm-and-blues making sound waves throughout the city. It was Cole's musical mother who encouraged the young Nat and his brothers to pursue the art form, and she even managed to convince her husband that playing music was an honest way to make a living. The melodies are unabashedly sweet and sentimental, awash with words that speak of love, romance, and loss. They summon a bygone era of radio, show business and pop charts, and records that sold in the millions. The songs speak for themselves, including such memorable works as "Autumn Leaves," "Nature Boy," "Too Young," "When I Fall in Love," "Mona Lisa" and Cole's trademark song, "Unforgettable." Except for one representative number, "Straighten Up and Fly Right" (an outgrowth of one of Cole's father's lectures), Cole did not write his own material; he relied instead on the likes of the Gershwin brothers' "Sweet Embraceable You," Yip Harburg's "It's Only a Paper Moon," and Mel Torme's "Christmas Song." Cole's autobiography gets more interesting in the second act. He relates two incidents that smack of the bigotry that was a fact of life in 1940s and 1950s America. This gives the narrative part of the show its emotional gravitas. It seems odd, however, that in the telling, LeMar remains soft-spoken and smiling, without a trace of any inner turmoil or rage in his voice or visage. Thackaberry's direction suggests Cole walked a tightrope between the white and black worlds, while trying to appease both groups in a sharply segregated America. It was also a time prior to the activist, and often militant, civil-rights movement of the 1960s. Despite fame and wealth, Cole and his second wife (his first marriage ended in divorce) faced racial discrimination when they went to buy a house in an upscale Los Angeles neighborhood. When a white member of the housing council told Cole they didn't want any "undesirables" moving into the neighborhood (it was deeded that homes could not be sold to Jews, blacks and undesirables), Cole's lightning response was, "Neither do I." This roused audible chuckles from the audience. The script would benefit from more stories like this one. The second anecdote relates to a physical attack on Cole while performing before an all white audience in Birmingham, Alabama. After Ku Klux Klan members were removed from the site, the audience demanded Cole return to the stage, where they gave him a five-minute standing ovation. Cole was the first African-American to have his own sponsored radio series in 1948-49. In 1956, he became the first African-American to have his own network television show. He helped break the color barrier for other black entertainers like Sarah Vaughan and Harry Belafonte. The show was popular, but the lack of a commercial sponsor caused NBC to cancel it after a year. At the time, no advertiser would sponsor a show presided over by a black person. A heavy smoker, Cole died of lung cancer at the age of 45 in 1965. In a world weary of war, politics and terror, "Nat King Cole" offers a pleasurable escape hatch to a simpler time made all the sweeter by nostalgia. Actors' Summit is a professional, not for profit, 501-c-3 professional arts organization. We are seeking volunteers and board members. For more details, email us or call MaryJo or Neil at 330-342-0800. Actors' Summit is working under a developmental agreement with Actors' Equity Association (the Union of professional Actors and Stage Managers.) |
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