Alabaster

 

Do a Google search on “Alabaster,” the Audrey Cefaly play at Capital Stage, directed by Kristin Clippard, and you’ll get a list of “text words” to help describe it:

LGBTQ, PTSD, grief, recovery, alcoholism, same-sex relationships, natural disaster, Alabama tornado, farm life, goats …

Now, how, you wonder, does all that fit together into one play?

Surprisingly well. This is a very funny, but very dark comedy about two women, learning how to deal with the scars of life and begin to heal.

And it’s all narrated by a sassy goat.

“A play about suffering that cuts so deep — it also needs goats,” says Capital Stage literary manager Cathy Hardin.

There is a cast of four extraordinary actresses. Stephanie Altholz is June, a folk artist who lost her family in a tornado that destroyed their barn, ripped off the front porch of the house, and left June, the only survivor, scarred from head to toe. She has not left the house in over two years and spends all of her time painting.

Alice (Susan Maris) is a photographer who comes to the farm from New York to take pictures of June as part of a project of photographing scarred women for a book showing how really beautiful they are. She has her own traumas to deal with, following the recent death of her wife, who was four months pregnant with their first child.

And then there are the goats. Amy Kelly snuck over from B Street to make her Capital Stage debut. She is Weezy, the younger of the goats and it is explained that she speaks both English and goat. Her partner Bib (Janet Motenko) is an aging goat who only speaks goat.

Kelly is a talented comedic actress, whom I have watched play a host of characters, both human and animal. She has that certain je ne sais quois that she brings to everything she plays and this goat was a perfect role for her.

In California Stage’s “Italian Opera,” Motenko played several different very verbal characters. As Bib, the dying goat, she has little to do but sleep, and as she speaks only “goat,” she has no lines. Yet, Motenko presents a sympathetic character, whose dying days are eloquent, words or not. It is a beautiful performance.

As for the humans, kudos to costume/makeup designer Caitlin Cisek, who has created June’s scarred body, both burn scars on her legs and back and ribbed scars on her face.

June uses sarcasm, bitterness and isolation to protect her from her emotional scars, until a terrifying incident opens a crack in her wall and lets her open up to Alice. Altholz gives a riveting performance.

Altholz and Maris have wonderful chemistry together. Maris’ scars are more deeply hidden, but when June needs her, her raw emotional story is very moving.

The scenic design by Timothy McNamara, lighting design by Michael Palumbo and sound/projection design by Ed Lee make this a very believable story — and whoever painted June’s paintings was wonderful.

This is a show that will make you laugh and cry and cringe, but will make you very happy that Sacramento has such a professional theater that presents such wonderful productions.

The Wickhams: Christmas at Pemberley

When friends Lauren Gunderson and Margot Melcon decided to take a six-hour drive from San Francisco to Ashland, the two Jane Austen fans began to conceive a post “Pride and Prejudice” plot that resulted in two delightful Christmas-themed plays. For the last two years, Capital Stage has presented “Miss Bennet: Christmas at Pemberley.” Now comes its sequel, “The Wickhams: Christmas at Pemberley.”

For “Downton Abbey” fans, “The Wickhams” may at first take a little getting used to. For one thing, it’s the Jane Austen version of “Upstairs, Downstairs,” though this sequel takes place downstairs and features a housekeeper who has all the stern authority of Mr. Carson from Downton, while actress Stephanie McVay’s “Mrs Reynolds” looks more like Mrs. Patmore, the Downton head cook.

Those who saw last year’s “Miss Bennet” will recognize that we are seeing what happened downstairs before action appears on stage “upstairs.” For example, footman Brian (Noah Thompson) carries a big fir tree into the servants’ quarters, to put in the upstairs library as a surprise for Mr. Darcy (Rob Salas). The decorated tree in the library, a new German fad, was a big part of “Miss Bennet.”

Directed by Peter Mohrmann, this show moves at a fast pace, sometimes dizzyingly fast, with so many characters entering and exiting. But there is never a dull moment.

Brittini Barger is returning for the third time to play Lizzy Darcy, who has settled into her role as the lady of Pemberley, and knows how to keep things as calm as possible even when a crisis arises.
Melissa Brausch plays sister Lydia, a flighty, flirty airhead, there without her husband George (Colin Sphar), about whom she raves, but obviously things are not right. Plus Mr. Darcy has given strict orders that George is not to enter the house, though he crashes the party anyway.

Both Brausch and Sphar are making their Capital Stage debuts. While both are excellent and a wonderful addition to the company, Sphar stood out from most of the cast and was outstanding. He has a scene with Salas as Darcy, which may be the most powerful of the evening.

This being a Christmas play, there has to be a romance in there somewhere and, in this case, it’s footman and would-be inventor Brian with newly hired maid Cassie (Kate Morton), friends since childhood, who are beginning to feel those stirrings and will they? Won’t they? Cassie has a more 21st-century idea of love, however, and trains Brian how to treat a woman he likes, which includes really listening to her. “Love is about seeing someone and allowing them to be exactly as they are.”

While this is a thoroughly enjoyable pastiche, there is just something “missing.” Perhaps the plot goes by too quickly to really get emotionally involved in some of the major issues, perhaps the comings and goings are too many and too quick. I don’t know. I didn’t feel as fulfilled as I did after “Miss Bennet,” though I certainly enjoyed myself and I really wanted to steal some of those cookies they ate all through the show and left on the table at its conclusion.

The Humans

My favorite moment of “The Humans,” now at Capital Stage, is a moment when there is a scene going on in the upper part of the stage, while Erik (Matt K. Miller) stands just looking down at his mother. Momo (Janet L. Motenko), who has advanced dementia, and is napping on the couch. The feeling of love, concern, and frustration in Miller’s eyes is so powerful that I couldn’t stop watching him. It’s exactly how I feel looking at my 100-year-old mother.

“The Humans” is a very funny, yet often sad play by Stephen Karam, which will feel familiar to anyone who has family Thanksgiving dinners. In fact, it is so believable, you feel like you might be watching reality TV instead of a scripted play.

The Blake family are invited to the home of daughter Brigid (Karen Vance), who has just moved into a new run-down apartment with her boyfriend Richard (Damien Seperi). It’s an unusual two-level apartment with only stairs to get from one floor to the next, so grandma Momo has to be taken down the elevator to get to the bottom floor.

The noise of a New York building, with stomping from the folks upstairs and crashing noises from the garbage compactor, interrupt frequently and make everyone uneasy (including the audience, from time to time).

With action taking place downstairs in the kitchen, dining area and living room and upstairs, there is often overlapping dialogue, but it’s easy to follow. Everyone in the family has his or her problem, which all begin to be revealed as everyone drinks a bit too much before dinner.

Erik, a school custodian, has a secret he is hiding. Wife Deirdre (Jamie Jones) is struggling to stick with her Weight Watchers diet and not having an easy time of it with all the Thanksgiving temptations. Both parents are concerned that Brigid and Richard seem to have no desire to marry and thus will not be producing any grandchildren.

Daughter Aimee (Kristine David) is an attorney who has been diagnosed with ulcerative colitis and has been taken off the partner track and knows that she will be let go soon. She has also just been dumped by her longtime girlfriend and is devastated. The pain she experiences from her physical condition is intensified by the pain she feels at having lost the love of her life.

Momo speaks mostly gibberish, though manages to perfectly join with the family in saying grace before dinner, then lapses back into gibberish again. It is so like someone who can’t remember her name but can sing familiar songs or recite familiar prayers from long ago. Motenko so nails the role of someone with dementia that it seemed strange to see the actor, looking perfectly normal, taking a bow at the end of the show.

“The Humans” won the 2016 Tony for new play and was a finalist in for the 2016 Pulitzer Prize for drama.

This is a deceptively simple play, with no hysterics and no name-calling — just a family revealing its weaknesses and struggling with how to carry on. It is both entertaining, yet honest, with a surprising and disturbing conclusion, which I’m not sure I understood. But all in all, it’s an excellent play.

The Roommate

Laura Jane Bailey, left, and Jamie Jones are excellent in the Capital Stage production of “The Roommate,” running through July 21. Charr Crail/Courtesy photo

It is unusual to find two meaty roles for over-50 women, much less one written by a 20-something playwright. Jen Silverman has created such a play, “The Roommate,” now at Capital Stage, directed by Dena Martinez.

This very funny play examines what can happen when a lonely, middle-aged woman takes in a roommate for companionship and to share expenses. Playwright Silverman feels that “Women of that age group are rendered invisible or they are played in ways that are harmless, infantalizing, and I want the audience to see potential for transformation that lies in themselves.”

For the play to work so well, it needs two excellent actresses to bring these two characters from paper to life. In Laura Jane Bailey and Jamie Jones, Capital Stage has just that.

Bailey is Sharon, who has “retired from her marriage” and who has a son, who may or may not be gay, whom she rarely sees. She fills her time with her “reading group” and a part-time job at a local shop. Though she is originally from Illinois, she is now an Iowan and may be the stereotypical view of any middle-aged woman from Iowa. I’ve been to Iowa. I have met Sharons. Bailey nails it.

Throughout the play, you realize the importance of Rebecca Redmond’s costume designs. Sharon starts out in a simple cotton dress, the kind you’d find in The Vermont Country Store catalog. As the play progresses, her dress becomes less dowdy and more current until her final costume, which is — well — amazing.

The play takes place in Sharon’s kitchen, which is perfectly depicted by scenic designer Eric Broadwater.

To help fill her big empty house, Sharon rents a room to Robyn (Jones), who says she wants to “start over” and through most of the play is hiding something that eventually comes out.

The “getting to know you” scenes are so funny, as Sharon begins to understand the kind of woman who has moved into her house. She thought that her new roommate was from upstate New York, not the Bronx (“Isn’t the Bronx dangerous … and you’re, I mean, a woman”).

Robyn starts to understand what it’s like to live in Iowa. She is amazed that Sharon never locks her door.

“It’s pretty safe here, except for the tornados,” Sharon tells her. Robyn never thought of tornados.
Robyn is vegan and a lesbian, a big adjustment for Sharon. “I don’t have any problems with homosexuals … I think, you know, gay rights! Let them marry! … Some of my son’s friends are homosexual people. Probably most of them. I think most New Yorkers are.”

Robyn also smokes pot — “medicinal herbs” she calls it. “Herbs only become drugs when a capitalist economy gets involved.”

She offers Sharon a joint, which she decides to try. “Am I gonna hallucinate?”

As the days pass, the women become more comfortable with each other. Robin’s story begins to unfold and without spoiling the reveal, suffice it to say that her move to Iowa was likely to remove herself from legal situations back east. Sharon is fascinated with Robin’s past life, and she begins to look at her own life in a different way.

The conversations between these two actresses and their rapid-fire responses make time pass very quickly. Bailey and Jones are a delight to watch, and Silverman’s dialogue is pure magic. The women are warm; they are funny; they are real people forced to overcome some of their earlier choices and learn how they want to spend their later years.

Better not to reveal how each is changed by the other since that is a surprise for all. I will admit that there are a couple of things at the end that I found confusing, but mostly it is a logical conclusion, and I’d love to see how both women are going to be in another five years.

The Other Place

Melinda Parrett was born to play Juliana Smithton, a scientist whose research has led to a potential breakthrough which will change the lives of thousands of people. Parrett has the ability to play the cold, aloof scientist, the wronged wife, and, as the play progresses, the confused and terrified woman whose life seems to be unraveling — and do it flawlessly. What is even more remarkable is her ability to switch back and forth among those feelings seamlessly.

The structure of “The Other Place,” by Sharr White, now at Capital Stage, is a little difficult to get into, as it goes back and forth in time, with Juliana both the narrator of the piece and a character in it. But when you get the hang of it, it’s brilliant.

Things move quickly, thanks to the deft direction of Michael Stevenson, and even the many set changes are choreographed so that they are done quickly and do not slow the action at all.

We first meet Juliana at a convention in the Virgin Islands, where she has been invited to give a lecture on a new drug designed to slow the neurological degeneration associated with dementia. She is aware that as a woman she is not necessarily taken seriously by her colleagues, and she dresses the part in a business suit and begins her talk professionally until she spies a woman in a yellow string bikini sitting in the audience. The presence of the unspeaking woman becomes unsettling and eventually the object of Juliana’s derision.

Cut to an interview between Juliana and another woman (Jennifer Martin). We’re not quite sure what the interview is for yet. Through bits and pieces, we discover that she is in the process of divorcing her philandering husband, an oncologist (Jonathan Rhys Williams), who also serves as her doctor because she feels she is dying of brain cancer, as her relatives did before her.

Asked if she has flirted with ideas of suicide, Juliana sarcastically retorts: “Dating them, actually, but they won’t put out.”

There is a crisis involving their daughter, who left the home at age 15 many years before, and the man (Kirk Blackinton) with whom she supposedly left. Juliana has never seen their twins and is trying to set up a way to reconnect with her daughter.

Williams is wonderful as Ian, Juliana’s husband, who is either a philanderer or a frustrated devoted husband, strained to the breaking point, trying to help his wife. He is irritating at first, as the couple argues and he seems uncaring about Juliana’s condition, but as the play progresses and we understand his suffering, you can’t help but feel sorry for him.

These are the elements of the plot and how it all unravels, twists and turns, and ultimately climaxes at the couple’s “Other Place,” a house on Cape Cod. It’s an intense 90-minute drama that is both sarcastic and heartbreaking.

Blackinton and Martin play several different characters; Martin is particularly wonderful as the stranger surprised to find Juliana in her house, who is at first afraid and then sympathetic, responding warmly to Juliana’s needs.

It doesn’t give away the plot to reveal that some of these characters are real and some are not. It is nearly halfway through the play that the truth about Juliana’s condition slowly becomes evident.

Timothy McNamara is credited with scenic and projections design. The setting, indicated by what is seen out the windows on stage, was very effective as was the rain created by sound designer Ed Lee.

There seems to be a tendency to have more one-act, 90-minute plays these days, which can sometimes get to feel draggy by the time the play ends. This is not one of them. The action is crisp and nonstop, and by the end, there will be tears wiped away.

Vietgone

Some time ago, I was chastised by a reader for not warning of “adult language” in a production. So let me say at the outset that if you are upset by adult language, you want to skip “Vietgone,” now at Capital Stage. But if you do, you will be cheating yourself out of a very special theatrical experience.

Is this the new look of American theater? It’s a hilarious comedy that can move you to tears in emotional moments. It’s not a musical, yet entertains with “Hamilton”-esque rap numbers. In place of actual sets, there are projections that enable the story to flip back and forth in time and place and include video news footage from the war era. It even includes a fantasy ninja warrior battle.

While it is contemporary in its examination of stereotypes (both Americans and Asians), and the treatment of immigrants following the Vietnam war, it certainly echoes life today.

As Producing Artistic Director Michael Stevenson completes his welcoming message, he announces that a “special guest” will also speak. Actor David Crane introduces himself as the playwright Qui Nguyen and begins to give an explanation of what might seem confusing about the play, which he describes as an “action sex comedy.”

He explains that though we hear the characters speaking English, they are really speaking Vietnamese and when an American character appears, you’ll know he is American because he will spout American nonsense like “Yee Haw! Get’er done! Cheeseburger, waffle, fries, cholesterol, NASCAR, botox, frickles,” the translation of which will be obvious by the response from the Vietnamese. It is an interesting switch of life and history from the Vietnam perspective, which we rarely, if ever, see.

The story centers on two characters, Quang (Jomar Tagatac), a helicopter pilot during the Vietnam War, who was unable to bring his wife and two young children out of Vietnam and longs to return, and Tong (Rinabeth Apostol), a Vietnamese refugee, whose fiancée was left behind in Vietnam and she whom knows she will never see again.

Tong came to America with her sharp-tongued mother, Huong (Michelle Talgarow), with strong feelings about America, American food, how Tong should act and the men she should date. Talgarow also plays several other characters, as do Anthony Chan and the aforementioned David Crane.
Quang finds a dilapidated motorcycle, which he repairs and, with this friend Nhan, heads for California. Along the road, the two have one of the funnier sequences, when they taste burritos for the first time and decide that maybe not all American food is terrible.

Kudos to, I assume, Christa Kinch, who gets credit for Properties Design, for the great motorcycle which is ridden all over the stage throughout the play.

For Quang and Tong, it is lust at first sight and their relationship is strictly a physical one until they begin having feelings for each other, something both of them fight.

Director Jeffrey Lo has a deft hand at letting the relationship between the two grow until we see the inevitable — Quang’s conversation with their son some 20 years later.

The play gives the audience a chance to witness American culture as seen through the eyes of immigrants, to hear that for the immigrants the war is over and done with and they are moving on, while Americans hunger for more and more details about what happened in the past.

“My life is more than the eight years I fight,” Quang tells his son. “All I hear is politicians using Vietnam as a symbol for a mistake. ‘If the president not careful, this will be another Vietnam.’ This is not how any Vietnamese wants Vietnam to be remembered….let me tell you about the people. But if you only wanting to know about war, then go rent a movie.”

This is a unique production that is well worth seeing.

Miss Bennet

In December of 2017, Capital Stage introduced Sacramento audiences to a new Christmas play, “Miss Bennet: Christmas at Pemberley.” It was an instant hit and audience favorite to be repeated in 2018.


Written by Lauren Gunderson (“the most produced living playwright in America”) and Margo Melcon, and was written on a six-hour drive from San Francisco to Ashland, Ore., in 2016. The play echoes the format of Jane Austen, recalling what happens after “they lived happily ever after.”
The play is once again directed by Peter Mohrmann.

It is Christmas and the scene is the beautiful living room of sister Lizzie (Brittni Barger) and her husband, the hunky Mr. Darcy (J.R. Yancher). (It is worth noting that six of the eight characters are returning, after their performance in last year’s production).

The set is by Eric Broadwater, and one of the more opulent you will find on a Sacramento stage
The room is dominated by a real Christmas tree, the practice of bringing real trees into the house at Christmas being a new concept in England, though it was started in Germany. The tree becomes almost a major character in the show since it is decorated throughout the evening and everyone has comments to make about it.

Sister Mary (Elyse Sharp) is first to arrive for this family Christmas. She’s the “bookish” one who prefers to live alone, read books and play the piano (kudos to Ed Lee for his sound design which makes it difficult to determine if Sharp is actually playing the piano or not!).

She’s not much interested in the frivolous conversation of sisters Lizzie, the very-pregnant Jane (Jennifer Martin) and Lydia (Allie Coupe). (Sister Kitty is on holiday in London.)

Jane’s husband is Kevin Gish, whom Davis people may remember from his very funny role in “Gutenberg! the Musical!” His militant enthusiasm for everything, including his impending fatherhood, is infectious and makes him an audience favorite.

Mary’s life is shaken up by the arrival of Arthur DeBourgh (Aaron Kitchin), also a bookish loner who seems embarrassed to have just become fabulously wealthy on inheriting his aunt’s estate.

Sparks don’t exactly fly between these two introverts, given their reticent natures, but they are both reading the same book on metaphysics, so there is an instant attraction. Things are starting to get interesting when Arthur’s cousin Anne (Andrea J. Love) arrives to announce she is his fiancée.

“Miss Bennet: Christmas at Pemberley” is a wonderful addition to the usual list of Christmas-themed theatrical productions and, performed so beautifully by Capital Stage, it’s a must-see for all those looking to get a little holly in their hearts before the actual day itself.

Sweat

A very strong, compelling play, with adult language, is now at Capital Stage.  “Sweat,” by Lynn Nottage was the 2017 Pulitzer prize winner for drama.  It is very much a play for today and one with which many will identify.  The New Yorker calls this the “first theatrical landmark of the Trump era,” a work which attempts to explain the nationwide anxiety that helped put Donald J. Trump in the White House.

In 2008, two men, Jason (Ian Hopps) and Chris (Tarig Elsiddig) have just been released from prison and are meeting with their parole officer (James R. Ellison III).  We don’t know why they were imprisoned or what the bad blood between these formerly good friends is, but in flashbacks (aided by TV news clips showing politicians and timely news as well as relevant tunes of the day) we see what led up to their incarceration.

The setting is Reading, Pennsylvania, which was in 2002 named the “poorest town in America.”  There is a Cheers-like bar (though cheerless) presided over by bartender Stan (Matt K. Miller).  Into the bar come the six regulars and the janitor Oscar (Evan Lucero).

Except for Stan and Oscar, everyone has worked at the local mill for decades (Stan had to quit because of an injury.  “Getting injured was the best thing that ever happened to me.  Got me out of that vortex.”) and the underlying feelings of anger and frustration are apparent from the beginning.

The conversation all centers around working conditions, poor pay and fear that they will lose their jobs if the factory move to Mexico–and then what will they do? 
Two of the women, Jessie (Kelley Ogden) and Cynthia (Kathryn Smith-McGlynn) decide to apply for a position in upper management, which will mean more money, fewer hours, and the chance to help those on the floor better their conditions.

Things begin to fall apart when Cynthia is hired and friendships begin to shatter over working conditions and what she can, or should do about them.

When the worst happens and the workers are locked out of the factory (without even given the chance to clean out their lockers) everyone learns the cruel lesson that you can be a dedicated worker for decades, do your job, often work overtime without pay, graciously accept less than ideal working conditions, but when push comes to shove, you mean nothing to the managers. It doesn’t pay to be a “good guy.”

As Stan says, “I’m in the hospital for nearly two months.  I can’t walk.  Can’t feel my toes.  Not one of those ***s called to check on me, to say ‘I’m sorry for not fixing the machine...’ The only time I heard from them was when they sent their lawyer to the hospital because they didn’t want me to sue. Twenty-eight years.  That’s when I knew I was nobody to them.  Nobody!”

Though this is set in 2000 and 2008, one of the characters swears he will never vote again because what is the use?  (Which may be the best excuse to remind people to get out and vote in 2 weeks!).

Michael Stevenson has directed a tight, riveting drama that will have an impact on everyone, whether part of the upper class, or one of those who are experiencing such situations every day. It is one of those “not to be missed” productions for which Capitol stage is often known and there’s not a weak link in the cast.  Everyone is at the top of their game.

Thanksgiving Play

 

Larissa FastHorse is a Native American playwright, a member the Rosebud Sioux tribe, Sicangu Lakota Nation. She has been involved with most prominent projects involving indigenous artists. She is most noted as a playwright-activist, having found many ways to bring indigenous stories to the American theater.

FastHorse explains, “I have again and again heard that my plays, after they are produced once, don’t get additional productions … because of casting. Theaters claim they don’t know any indigenous actors or they cannot afford to bring in indigenous actors …

“I would rather get the stories out there to give non-indigenous people the chance to learn about us, and to show indigenous people that there is a place for them in theater.”

And so FastHorse decided to write a play that would mock the attempts of theaters to deal with indigenous characters.

The result is the wickedly funny “The Thanksgiving Play,” now filling Capital Stage with laughter. FastHorse describes its success as “an opportunity to satirize one of the insidious problems in American theater: the fear of making mistakes or offending someone unintentionally.” In this ultra-PC era, its success is indeed both heartbreaking and bittersweet.

Logan (Jennifer LeBlanc) is a high school drama teacher trying to create a Thanksgiving play without an indigenous character. She is joined in this endeavor by her yoga friend Jaxton (Cassidy Brown), politically correct to a fault, who does street performances about composting. Logan is also vegan, and the very thought of a turkey dinner makes her ill.

Jaxton’s idea of how they are going to create the play is to “start with this pile of jagged facts and misguided governmental policies and historical stereotypes about race and turn that all into something beautiful and dramatic and educational for the kids.”

What could possibly go wrong?

Logan is proud of herself for getting a “Native American Heritage Month Awareness through Art” grant, which gives her funding to hire a professional actor. Based on a headshot, she hires Alicia (Gabby Battista) who, as it turns out, is an “ethnic looking” American who can play several cultures depending on how she is photographed. Her braids, a headband and turquoise jewelry led Logan to assume she was Native American.

The group is rounded out by Caden (Jouni Kirjola), an elementary school history teacher with Broadway dreams. He has lots of research, but no experience. He wants to start this play 4,000 years before the present, when European farmers held Harvest Home Festivals.

This well-intentioned quartet brainstorm ideas for the play, their discussion only showing how completely clueless they are about what they hope to accomplish. “Do you know how hard it is for a straight white male to feel less-than in this world?”

Interspersed throughout the play are four different videos of children from very young to high school performing some kind of Thanksgiving play. As I suspect these are not scripted, but real plays, each is funnier than the other.

Director Michael Stevenson keeps the action moving and the laughter constant. It may not yet be the Fourth of July, but this Thanksgiving gift is a wonderful crowd-pleaser.

Marjorie Prime

Brock D. Vickers and Janis Stevens are spot-on in their compelling roles in
Capital Stage's “Marjorie Prime,” running through June 3. Courtesy photo

 As we all age, and the threat of dementia or Alzheimer’s looms, we fear losing all of our precious memories. What if science could ensure that we could keep those memories?

“Marjorie Prime,” a play by Jordan Harrison now at Capital Stage, deals with just such fears and how future science can help. It is science fiction and reality mixed with humor, but not really a comedy.

This production is directed by Stephanie Gularte, co-founder of Capital Stage, who left Sacramento in 2014 to become producing artistic director of American Stage Theatre Company in St. Petersburg, Fla. This is the first ever co-production with American Stage, which ended its run of this show on April 1 before moving the show, actors and all, to Sacramento (two of the cast are from Florida and two from Sacramento).

The audience greeted Gularte with a standing ovation when she came onto the stage with Michael Stevenson, Capital Stage producing artistic director, to give an introduction to the production.

Marjorie is a widow in her mid-80s who is in the middle stages of dementia. Her new companion is “Walter Prime,” a holographic creation that looks and speaks like her late husband, Walter. He helps Marjorie cope, in part by gradually erasing some details of her past and adding more pleasant memories.

Janis Stevens is Marjorie and has perfected the persona of an older woman who still has a thin grasp on her memories, but realizes they are slipping away. Her body language, the way she holds her hands, the way she speaks is spot-on.

As the play begins, Marjorie is talking with a handsome young man named Walter (Brock D. Vickers). As the action progresses, we learn that this is really “Walter Prime,” a holographic version of her husband when he was young and handsome. He is there to remind her of the past and tell her stories of their life together. It is difficult to tell holographic Walter from real Walter until he hits a bit of information that he has not learned yet, and then you can see him processing it and adding it to his database.

When Walter Prime can’t answer a question because that bit of data hasn’t been programmed yet, Marjorie complains and he responds, “I sound like whoever I talk to.” This is, perhaps, the most important message of this play — remembering the past is not the same as reliving it and the Primes can only share memories that they have been programmed to remember.

Marjorie lives with her daughter Tess (Jamie Jones) and her husband Jon (Steven Sean Garland). Tess struggles with “losing” her mother as more and more of her memory disappears and jealousy of Walter Prime, who is more important to Marjorie than Tess is. Jones gives a wonderful performance as the daughter on the edge, loving her mother, but hating her for not being the mother that she was.

Garland plays Jon as the calming influence between supporting his wife and comforting his mother-in-law.

We then see Marjorie looking younger and brighter, and sitting on the couch chatting with Tess. As the conversation progresses, we realize that Marjorie has died and this is Marjorie Prime, who is there to hold the memories for Tess, who hasn’t been in favor of the holograms, but now finds comfort in being able to speak with her mother’s Prime even though she’s angry that it’s not really her mother.

The final scene is one of those that leaves lots of questions, lots of “what happens next?” And isn’t that the sign of a great play — one that makes you want to dissect it long after it has ended?

The Arsonists

It’s a riveting opening. The lights come up and at first there is silence, then the theater door slams open and an epithet is uttered as a woman moves slowly across the floor to the stage dragging a blood-stained heavy bag. More epithets follow as she continues to drag the bag slowly up the stairs and onto the stage, the room of what appears to be a dilapidated unfurnished house.

Dragging the bag across the floor she begins chopping at the floor with an axe, picking up three boards, leaving a hole into which she pushes the bag. More epithets.

“The Arsonists,” now at Capital Stage, under the direction of Gail Dartez is a 70-minute one-act play by Jacqueline Goldfinger, set in a North Florida swamp. Scenic and lighting design are by Brian Harrower, and are as essential to the story as are the two actors. The finale, in particular, is spectacular.

The inspiration for this play came from the playwright watching her own father struggle with health issues shortly after she herself gave birth. In an interview, she explains that “The Arsonists” grew from a more intimate personal place of having just given birth, and intense, sometimes deeply disturbing connections to her children, which made her reflect on Sophocles’ “Electra” and the relationship between Agamemnon and Electra as more intense than ever before.

“This is a love letter to my father. He is not dead. It’s a shame that folks hold off ’til somebody dies to say how much they mean to ’em. I’m gonna go ahead and do it now.”

The two characters are M (Megan Wicks) and H (Rich Hebert). H is M’s father and he refers to her as “Littles” throughout the play. We learn early on that the two are arsonists for hire. They are a family of traditional values and honor and hold onto the traditions that have been passed down through the family. But their last job has not gone well.

M has lived in the swamp all of her life, has never had the opportunity for socialization and her father is her whole world. She’s a tough cookie, but will soon be on her own. Her father, realizing that and knowing that he must leave her, wants to help her find a way to face the future alone.

The characters love to sing together and, though neither of the actors is a musician, they learned to play the guitar and sing traditional folk songs, thanks to the help of Davis’ own Sam Misner (of Misner & Smith), who is the music director.

This is not a “musical,” but they sing, strum or hum traditional tunes as they are doing something else. The music draws them together, never more beautifully than in “Poor Wayfaring Stranger,” the song they sing sotto voce while braiding twine for fuses.

This is not a “wordy” play, but each bit of dialogue is pure gold. In describing his relationship with M’s late mother, H says, “I’m not talking about sex. It’s more intimate. A release, from yourself to yourself. That takes someone else’s love to ignite. Otherwise you burn cold, no air, no breath, to feed the flames, get you alive.”

One wonders how this play can ultimately end but Goldfinger has written a spot-on resolution — and Harrower brings it to life.

Capital Stage is one of four theaters in the country that’s debuting “The Arsonists” as part of the National New Play Network’s rolling world premiere program.

The Nether

In these days of #MeToo and horror stories of sexual misconduct, Capital Stage’s choice of Jennifer Haley’s “The Nether” is either perfect, or the worst choice ever, depending on your reaction to the play.

Literary manager Cathy Hardin warns that during the first three days of rehearsal, the most prominent words and phrases used by the cast were “wildly uncomfortable,” “rough” and “worried.”

The winner of seven Los Angeles Ovation Awards and the Susan Smith Blackburn Prize, “The Nether” is described by The Huffington Post as “dark, disturbing and extraordinary … a cold, hard look at human behavior.”

Reaction from two patrons after the show: “I hated it” and “I don’t know what I just saw, but I loved it.”

This is a show about which you can’t be neutral.

It would do a disservice to patrons to give too much away, since “discovery” is part of the experience, but the premise is that an admitted pedophile has created a virtual realm called The Hideaway, a Victorian setting where people with deviant sexual urges can satisfy them with virtual children, without injury to anyone in the real world.

Sims (Tim Kniffin), who runs The Hideaway, admits that he has “always been sick and there is no cure.” He then explains that “I have taken responsibility for my sickness. … The only way I can do this is because I’ve created a place where I can be myself.” He is being questioned by Morris, a female detective (Imani Mitchell) who is trying to find the location of Sims’ server so she can shut it down.

“Are you accusing me of creating pedophiles? If anything, I’m giving them a place to blow off steam,” Sims says.

“You foster a culture of legitimization, telling them their desires are not only acceptable, but commendable,” Morris replies.

That this production works so well is due to an exceptional cast. In addition to Kniffin and Mitchell, Graham Scott Green is Doyle, an older man who is a frequent visitor to The Hideaway (who is considering leaving the real world and moving permanently), and Jeb Burris, as Woodnut, a new guest.

Outstanding is Kylie Standley as Iris, the girl whose function is to interact with the guests. Standley’s Iris is a beautiful, vivacious 9-year-old android with a smile that lights up room, who longs for a birthday cake and loves to dance. She is also, we discover, in charge of what happens in her frilly pink-decorated bedroom.

Timothy McNamara is the scenic/lighting designer who has created two decidedly different worlds. In the “real” world, everyone dresses in grays and whites, the walls are gray, the furniture is gray, the lighting is muted. The only color is on the faces of the people living there.

When one crosses over into the Nether, there is a psychedelic multi-colored design on movable panels opening to reveal the brightly lit, colorful world of The Hideaway. We know immediately we aren’t in Kansas any more!

(Kudos also to the technicians who change the sets. They are as crisp as a dance troupe.)

“The Nether” is certain to provoke conversations. Is modern technology the answer? Can you excuse the criminal activity if no real person is hurt? Are the characters we would find abhorrent in this life sufficiently sympathetic that we can understand their attraction to The Hideaway as a way to keep from hurting people in the real world?

This is a provocative, powerful and deeply disturbing play, directed by Kirk Blackinton (new to Capital Stage), which explores the consequences of living out one’s private dreams.

Hardin suggests approaching the play with an open mind: “Instead of us deciding that something is right or wrong, why don’t we look at the motivations for why people do things, instead of just judging their actions,” she says.

Miss Bennet: Christmas at Pemberley

From left, Sarah Brazier, Brittni Barger
and Elyse Sharp perform in the
Capital Stage production of
“Miss Bennet: Christmas at Pemberley,”
on stage through Dec. 30.
Charr Crail/Courtesy photo

Attention, Jane Austen fans: Capital Stage has a wonderful Christmas gift for you. “Miss Bennet: Christmas at Pemberley” by Lauren Gunderson and Margot Melcon is a sequel to “Pride and Prejudice,” and takes place two years after the book ends.

If you (like me) are not a Jane Austen fan, not to worry — this delightful comedy-drama featuring four of the five Bennet sisters coming together to celebrate Christmas is just as delightful. There are probably a lot of nuances and back story bits that pass you by, but you’ll never know it.

This show centers on Mary (Elyse Sharp), the middle Bennet sister who, some say, gets short shrift in the book because of her “pedantic air and conceited manner.” At 20, she’s a spinster and a bookworm. She is more interested in learning and longs for a bigger life outside the societal expectations of 18th-century women. She is uninterested in the frivolous romantic adventures of her sisters.

Sister Elizabeth Darcy (Brittni Barger), now married to hunky Mr. Darcy (J.R. Yancher, a Davis resident), is the mistress of Pemberley, the Darcy estate. The gorgeous set designed by Eric Broadwater is dominated by a real Christmas tree, which will be decorated throughout the evening. It is a novelty for all the others, as the indoor Christmas tree is just beginning to be the fashion in Germany.

The Bingleys arrive — the very-pregnant sister Jane (Andrea J. Love) and husband Charles (Kevin Gish). Jane is “the sweet one” and does her best to calm people down when things threaten to get out of hand.

The last sister, Lydia (Sarah Brazier) arrives without her husband, who was “detained in Bath,” she explains. Lydia is self-absorbed and flirtatious. Brazier gives a very energetic performance that is perhaps a tad too loud, but definitely obnoxious.

She sets her sights on Arthur de Bourgh (Aaron Kitchin), Mr. Darcy’s cousin, who recently inherited a large estate and has no idea what to do with it. He is there to celebrate the holidays, but as he is a loner who prefers books to people, he definitely feels out of place and more than a little overwhelmed with Lydia’s attentions.

Though the plot is predictable — how two shy bookworms find the courage to admit their attraction to each other, amid all the chaos around them — getting there is half the fun, and director Peter Mohrman has kept the pace swift and the dialog crisp.

Things are further complicated by the arrival of Anne deBourgh (Lyndsy Kail), who announces that she is Arthur’s fiancée (a surprise to him).

Though the actors gave uniformly excellent performances, my heart went out to Kitchin’s Arthur and his awkwardness. Similarly, Gish’s Bingley, while perhaps the smallest role in the show, had such a look on his face — like he had a fun joke that only he knows. It was quite appealing.

Sharp’s Mary was cold and controlled, but with a desire she had not dealt with before just below the surface. Watching both her and Arthur struggling with unfamiliar feelings was very sweet.
In the end, the love that the women have for each other overshadows all difficulties and it shines as brightly as the now-decorated Christmas tree.

“Miss Bennet” is a nice, unusual Christmas story, which I hope will become a staple in years to come. It’s fun to see something different for a change!

A Christmas Carol

Matt K. Miller as Ebenezer Scrooge and Gregg Koski as the ghost of Jacob Marley
perform in Sacramento Theatre Company's 2017 production of “A Christmas Carol.”
Charr Crail Photography/Courtesy photo

It is difficult to imagine a Sacramento Theatre Company production of ‘A Christmas Carol’ without Matt K. Miller as Scrooge. Performing the role for the sixth time, he is the stingiest, meanest, grinchiest Scrooge there ever was — but after his reformation, his child-like enthusiasm for having not missed Christmas after all is infectious and never fails to bring a tear every time I see it.

This musical version of the Dickens classic, directed by Michael Laun and Michael Jenkinson, is celebrating its 30th anniversary, and returns to the STC stage after a five-year absence. Sacramento Theatre Company commissioned this musical by Richard Hellesen and David de Berry in 1987. Since then, the work has been widely performed, with perennial productions in Rochester, N.Y.; Denver; Dallas; Baton Rouge, La.; and Phoenix; among other communities.

Greg Coffin modernized the music a few years ago, and re-orchestrated the soundtrack for the 25th anniversary production. (The orchestration is recorded; no live orchestra was used … but you’d never know it.)

This is a pleasant musical with tunes that might not be memorable, but are thoroughly enjoyable. There are 35 actors mentioned in the biography, but many roles are double-cast to allow more of STC’s Young Professional’s Conservatory program to appear on stage.

Miller’s real-life son, Max Miller, for example, appears as Tiny Tim, alternating with Miller Traum. Max made his stage debut in this role five years ago, at age 4, and is now a seasoned professional.
The set by Renee Degarmo and Jarrod Bodensteiner is a wonder, with large pieces that roll or rotate while actors walk across them, telling the Dickens story and morphing into the characters singing the songs about the story.

That it works without a hitch is a miracle, though there was a slight problem that stopped the show cold for several minutes the night we went. The actors left the stage and the audience went into the lobby, and when the problem was fixed, all returned and the actors continued as if nothing had happened.

Michael Jenkinson plays Scrooge’s long-suffering clerk, Bob Cratchit, who must endure the conditions under which he works because he has a family of six at home — his wife (Aviva Pressman) and five children, including Tiny Tim (a good performance by Traum, whose “God bless us every one” rang out clearly).

Despite the hardships of his job, Cratchit maintains a happy disposition and greets Scrooge’s ebullient nephew Fred (David Weidoff) with good wishes for the coming holiday, though Scrooge growls and sends his beloved sister’s only child away.

Dominique Lawson and Jake Mahler are the two subscription gentlemen, soliciting funds for the poor. Their reaction at the end of the show when Scrooge reveals the contribution he wants to make to atone for many years when he did not contribute is perfect.

Gregg Koski is the chain-wearing ghost of Scrooge’s old partner, Jacob Marley, returning to Earth to warn Scrooge of what is in store for him if he does not begin to mend his ways. His interpretation is perhaps more befitting a Halloween spook than a Christmas specter, but he puts his whole soul into it.
As promised, Scrooge is visited by three spirits. The first, the Ghost of Christmas Past (eighth-grader Sarah Arata in her first Main Stage production, alternating with 14-year-old Fiona Gillogly) leads Scrooge through the happy memories of his past where he sees himself as a child (Ian Kennedy, alternating with Sebastian Fernandez), and, first, apprentice and then young man (Will Block), who definitely shows the beginnings of the cold, unfeeling Scrooge that he will become in later life.
Scrooge enjoys reliving the festivities at the shop of his jolly employer Fezziweg (Jake Mahler), who shows how happy he can make his employees with not much money at all.

Scrooge then sees the sad change when money became all important to him, ruining his relationship with the love of his life, Belle (Tyler Traum). Hints of regret begin to tug at his conscience.

Jake Mahler returns as the exuberant Ghost of Christmas Present, showing Scrooge the reality of life in the present.

I have seen this show many, many times and have never been as affected as I was this time listening to this ghost talk about the children of want and ignorance: “This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased.”

It has always seemed just a part of the script for me, but sadly in this day and age, with education programs and children’s welfare in danger, it seemed more prophetic.

By the time of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come (Zane Boyer) arrives, Scrooge is ready to atone for his past sins and lead a good, blameless life.

Sacramento Theatre Company’s “A Christmas Carol” is a long-standing holiday favorite and it is wonderful to see it back on the STC stage again. It’s the Christmas show that everyone should see, at least once.

Scrooge (Matt K. Miller) celebrates his new found outlook on life with Bob Cratachit (Michael Jenkinson) 
and Tiny Tim (Max Miller) in Sacramento Theatre Company's production of "A Christmas Carol."
Kelly Christoffersen/Courtesy photo

Bad Jews

Over the years, I have seen actress Tara Sissom in many comedies and have long admired her talent for comedy. However, in Capital Stage’s production of “Bad Jews” by Joshua Harmon we see an entirely different side of Sissom. She is funny, yes, but also angry, poignant — and amazing. She dominates as Daphna, one of the grandchildren of “Poppy,” who has just died.

The four-actor play takes place in a cramped New York apartment where three grandchildren have gathered the day after the funeral of their grandfather, the lone family holocaust survivor. The stated plot concerns which of the three will get Poppy’s “chai,” a gold pendant signifying “life.”

It was given to him by his father, and while a prisoner in Auschwitz he hid it in his mouth for two years until liberation. When he had no money for an engagement ring, he gave it to his soon-to-be wife as a symbol of his love. After he was able to buy a ring, he wore it around his neck for the rest of his life, so this has tremendous meaning for his family.

Daphna is certain that he meant for her to have it after his death. Mild-mannered Jonah (Noah Thompson) doesn’t care and just doesn’t want to discuss it. But cousin Liam (Jeremy Kahn) — who missed the funeral because he was skiing in Aspen and whose mother fed-exed him the chai as his grandfather lay dying — feels it rightfully belongs to him.

There is longstanding enmity between Liam and Daphna and they can hardly stand to be in the same room together. Daphna feels that Liam is really a self-hating Jew who chooses “tapid little Bambi” creatures out of insecurity, since with them he can be arrogant and masculine.

As for Liam, “She is horrifying. Just listen to her. Every other word that comes out of her mouth is some unbelievably offensive insult that we’re supposed to pretend not to hear?”

Things explode when Liam (a self-described “bad Jew”) arrives with his Delaware-born girlfriend Melody (Chloe King). He intends to continue the family tradition and give the chai to her in lieu of an engagement ring.

Though the argument over ownership of the chai is volatile, it unearths a lot of long-held feelings about religion, family and tradition. For Daphna, the chai symbolizes the survival of the Jewish faith and to give it to a gentile is unthinkable.

But as this is basically a comedy, there are some very funny moments in it, like remembering when Poppy took them all to Benihana and everyone was struck with bowel problems. The memory brings the three cousins together literally rolling on the floor in laughter.

But then things that seem very innocent (Daphna asking Melody about her background, growing up in Delaware) suddenly turn ugly when she accuses Melody’s family of the genocide of the Native Americans.

Director Amy Resnick has kept the delicate balance between funny and serious so that you’re never quite sure which you are seeing.

But Sissom is a wonder and Kahn, a newcomer to Capital Stage, is a worthy match for her diatribes.
King’s Melody is innocent and totally ignorant of the seriousness and importance of Jewish history (“I don’t see why any of it matters, you know? Where people come from? People are just people.”) which further inflames Daphna, the rabbinical student and uber Jew whose dream is to go to Israel and join the army.

As Jonah, Thompson spends most of the play cringing, hiding and saying he does not want to be involved in the argument — though in the end it is he who has the biggest impact on everyone, on and off the stage.

This is a unique piece of theater, which ends Capital Stage’s “Love and War” season. It is perhaps my favorite of the six plays in the series of excellent pays. Capital Stage just keeps getting better and better.

Stupid F###ing Bird

If Conrad loves Nina and Nina loves Trigorin and Trigorin loves Emma while Dev loves Masha, who loves Conrad — we can only be in a Russian tragedy.

“Stupid F##king Bird,” currently at Capital Stage, under the direction of Michael Stevenson, is a hilarious yet reverential homage to Anton Chekhov’s “The Seagull.”

The title came about as a joke, playwright Aaron Posner explained. “I was saying how much I loved ‘The Seagull’ and how much I kind of hated it. As I left the room, I literally said, ‘I should do my own adaptation. I should call it Stupid F##king Bird.’ ” And so he did.

This is more or less the plot of “The Seagull” with the themes more or less the themes of Chekhov’s and, like the original, it is all about theater, including a play within a play in which the audience is invited to contribute ideas. But the lines between reality and stage are blurred and the characters often are not aware that they are actors in a play.

Yes, it’s a little confusing, but stick with it. It’s very funny and all comes together. Sort of. By the final bow.

The marvelous Ian Hopps is Conrad, the tortured playwright desperate to get his play appreciated, especially by his mother, Emma (Rebecca Dines), to whom the play is directed.

Hopps made a big impression in Davis Shakespeare Ensemble’s “Bells are Ringing” last summer and does not disappoint in this production, filled with passion, self-deprecation and anguish about his unrequited love for aspiring actress Nina.

Brittni Barger as Nina is a hopeless romantic who longs for a stage career (but isn’t really talented). She is dazzled by the philandering literary legend Trigorin and believes he is her key to fame and fortune.

Dines plays the successful actress and family matriarch Emma, who has had a love/hate relationship with her son for all of his life, which explains a lot about Conrad.

Capital Stage favorite Jason Kuykendall is Trigorin, tall and cool, but easily swayed by the sexual advances of both Nina and Emma. (Warning to the audience: There is a bit of nudity in this show, as well as liberal use of the F-word.)

Comic relief is provided by Jouni Kirjola as Dev, with a smile that comes right out of a cartoon. His smile often hides a breaking heart but he is Con’s BFF and an essential part of his life. Kirjola offers the perfect blend of social awkwardness and charm.

A real find is Wenona Truong, as Mash. The actress comes out of the Capital Stage Apprentice Program and is perfect as the deadpan, perpetually depressed Mash, strumming her ukulele and singing bitter songs to express her unhappiness.

(“My heart has been broken, my heart has been burst / The best that life can offer me is more of the worst …”)

Peter Mohrmann is Dr. Sorn, Emma’s brother, whose role seems to be that of a detached observer, though he secretly has his own feelings of longing, if nobody on whom to focus them. He self-medicates with vodka. He is dying, but nobody knows it. This is the kind of role in which Mohrmann excels and he gives an expected strong performance.

Scenic design is by Timothy McNamara. The set is so impressive it is worth sitting through the intermission to see it changed.

Likewise, Glenn Fox does a good job of lighting, switching from theatrical performance to “reality” by means of lighting changes.

It is Con who tells this story and even as it achieves some success, he’s not happy.

“You know what f-ing sucks about a little success? It just feels like a set up for a new kind of failure — a more painful kind. Because now instead of just my family, I’ll get to have, you know … perfect strangers judging and pitying me, too.”

If the audience is any indication, there’s not a lot of negative judgment in this production. In fact it’s pretty f-ing brilliant.

Guards at the Taj

Mohammad Shehata, left, and Rajesh Bose star in "Guards at the Taj,"

The year is 1648 and the location is the Taj Mahal, the night before it is unveiled by the Mughal emperor, Shah Jahan, to the public.

The play is “Guards at the Taj,” an award-winning script by Rajiv Joseph directed for Capital Stage by co-founder Jonathan Williams.

There is no indication at the outset as to whether this is a comedy or a drama … and the answer is “yes.” As the play starts, there is fear that it is going to drag because of long silences between the two characters. Then it becomes very funny and after nervous titters, there are deep guffaws, but then it becomes very serious and even shocking.

Rajesh Bose (Humayun) and Mohammad Shehata (Babur) are outstanding actors who make this play come alive. The two play imperial guards stationed at the gate of the Taj Mahal, tasked with the duty of making certain no one sneaks in and sees the edifice before its unveiling the next morning. They are to stand at attention all night and not speak or turn around to look at the building.

Humayun is the rules guy. He stands stoically, as his job description demands, and rebukes Babur, who wants to chat. Babur is the goofball of the two … they are a real Odd Couple. It is Babur who sees the ludicrousness of standing still all night when they are the only two people around.

Eventually, Babur wears down Humayun’s reserve and the two joke and chat together, though until they reach that point one does wonder if this play is going to drag because of the uncomfortable silences while Humayun refuses to talk.

About the time the audience has settled in to enjoy this comedy, suddenly things aren’t so funny anymore and turn terribly black. The two guards have been given an unspeakable job of horrific brutality. To follow orders will change their lives forever. Each man is shaken to his core and in the aftermath one suffers severe PTSD, and the other must make an even worse decision.

This is the story of a bromance that is tested to the extreme. Even in the brutality, there is a sweetness in the relationship between Humayun and Babur. In the testing, the idea of “beauty” is analyzed and we learn how friendship of the men both sustains and ultimately destroys them.

Even in the midst of the horror, Babur brings a note of lightness with his dreams of fantastical inventions and “flying to the stars.” Humayun wants to invent a “transportable hole” to carry around so that one can escape any unpleasant situation, and they discuss the problems with trying to carry a “hole.” Talk of their inventions keep the men’s minds off of their horrific task, at least for a while.
Stephen C. Jones’ scenic design is simple, but handsome, while Timothy McNamara’s lighting and Ed Lee’s sound design add much to the atmosphere.

Perhaps the heroes of this production are the unnamed tech crew who have some amazing jobs between scenes and who get a round of applause each time they exit the stage. Not sure who is responsible for the “props” in Scene 2 but they deserve a round of applause, too (an ironic idea, when you think of it!).

“Guards at the Taj” is not going to appeal to everyone … and if you can’t handle brutality, perhaps you should stay home. But that would be a shame because this is an excellent play that will hold your attention and make an impact. You will be thinking about it long after you have left the theater.

Betrayal

Capital Stage’s current production of Harold Pinter’s “Betrayal” is a beautifully directed (by Janis Stevens), wonderfully acted, handsomely designed story of three people that we really don’t like very much at all.

The one-act play, which starts at the end of the story, works backwards in nine scenes to the beginning. The plot closely parallels Pinter’s own life at the time. The married playwright was in a seven-year affair with a BBC reporter, whose husband was his own best friend.

The set for this production, designed by Paul Kreutz, is very stark, but somehow compelling. It is an all-white stage with three platforms that overlap each other. A bed is suggested on the top level, with a lovely shimmering golden blanket (the only hint of color on the stage).

A table, bench and chairs are moved by the efficient stage crew from scene to scene to suggest the next locale. Three large screens stretch across the back, each showing a video that lets the viewer know the year, the season and the location. (Projections are by Russell Dow.)

As the show opens, Emma (Elena Wright) is waiting in a pub for Jerry (Chad Deverman). Dialog reveals that they have not seen each other in two years, and that they had a seven-year affair. They talk of her husband (whom she is about to divorce) and Jerry’s wife and whether the spouses ever knew of their involvement.

In the next scene we meet Emma’s husband Robert (Michael Patrick Wiles), who is the quintessential example of the British “stiff upper lip,” as he and Jerry dispassionately discuss the affair with Emma and whether they should get together to play a game of squash or not.

As the scenes move backward, we find betrayal everywhere. Emma lies to Jerry, Robert lies to Emma, Jerry lies to his wife, and to Emma. They have created the proverbial tangled web and lived it for seven years, and are still living with the consequences.

Elena Wright starts the story as a somewhat nervous yet likable Emma meeting her former lover after two years, but as their conversation continues, her need for reassurance that he still has feelings for her and her apparent willingness to give it another go gradually erase that likability and she starts to be annoying.

Costumer Gail Russell has chosen a violet palate for Elena, and in every scene she is wearing a new costume, but always in the same shade of violet, which is very becoming on her.

We don’t really start to dislike Jerry for several scenes. He seems an OK fellow, until he doesn’t. Russell has created a striking series of costumes for him, in colorful pastels that shouldn’t match, but do.

Wiles, as Robert, in contrast, is in a more nondescript costume that doesn’t really stand out, which matches his personality. Wiles does well keeping his anger quietly simmering just below the surface while engaging in polite conversation with his best friend, who is sleeping with his wife.

Graham Scott Green adds a much-needed touch of humor in his brief scene as the waiter in an Italian restaurant.

Perhaps the problem with this play is that there is no mystery. We know from the beginning how the relationship ends and there is nothing much surprising about how it begins.

The play is billed as one of Pinter’s “masterpieces,” but I much preferred his “Homecoming,” also directed by Stevens, which Capital Stage presented two years ago.

Santaland Diaries

Crumpet would be the perfect elf for “Bad Santa.”

 

Crumpet is the name given to David Sedaris in his very funny “The Santaland Diaries,” now at Capital Stage, directed by Shannon Mahoney and starring Benjamin T. Ismail, who brings the proper blend of sardonic humor and outright sarcasm to the story.

Based on Sedaris’ experience working as an elf one Christmas at Macy’s Herald Square Santaland display, when he expected to be working on “One Life to Live” instead, Sedaris takes the audience through his interview process, “Elf Training” (using the very thick Elfin manual), and a tour of Santaland (“a real wonderland with ten thousand sparkling lights, false snow, train sets bridges, decorated trees, mechanical penguins and bears and really tall candy canes”).

He also learns about the “special areas” like the “Oh My God” corner, where parents can finally see Santa and realize how long it was going to take them to get to him, and the “Vomit Corner” where many kids throw up.

Next he is given his costume (designed by Mari Carson).

“My costume is green. I wear red-and-white striped tights, a yellow turtleneck, forest green velvet smock, and a perky stocking cap decorated with spangles. This is my work uniform,” he says wryly.
David realizes he’s not going to provide the bubbly enthusiasm of most other elves and that he probably will be a “low-key sort of elf.”

As Ismail progresses through this one-hour comedy, you appreciate his ability to make a special connection with the audience, his perfect comic timing and the agility that allows him to leap through the air with the grace of a ballet dancer.

Ismail may be better known as a director (most recently Capital Stage’s “August, Osage County”) but he also has an extensive acting résumé, everything from “Peter Pan” to “Tartuffe,” and is truly a jack of all trades.

This is not a show for children. Language and subject matter are inappropriate, to say nothing of revealing the whole Santa thing.

The show, written in 1992, was first read by Sedaris on NPR’s “Morning Edition,” and nearly 25 years later parts of it seem as fresh as ever while, in these more politically correct days, description of disabled children and some minorities, while brief, will be offensive to some.

The set design by Justin D. Muñoz is indeed a real wonderland, which will cause gasps when revealed. It is complete with any toy a little one would want. (I watched Crumpet hugging a big floppy polar bear and wished for a cuddly Christmas bear myself!)

This is the third production of “The Santaland Diaries” I have seen in the past six years and I wondered how it would be on a third visit, but Ismail has made it as fresh and new was it was when I first saw it in 2009.

It’s a wonderful choice for anyone who wants to briefly get away from the militantly cheerful holiday shows to be found elsewhere.

August: Osage County

There is a family dinner. A casserole gets dropped. Chaos ensues until someone says “It’s not a party until someone spills something.”

A lot gets spilled in Capital Stage’s production of Tracy Letts’ “August: Osage County,” directed by Benjamin T. Ismail.

Someone spills a casserole, someone drops a luncheon plate, others spill the beans. Many times. This very dark comedy about a warring Oklahoma family makes George and Martha (“Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf”) look like they just had a little spat

There is a reason why this play won every major theatrical award when it opened on Broadway — including the Pulitzer Prize for drama — and why the notoriously cantankerous Charles Isherwood of The New York Times called it “without qualification, the most exciting new American play Broadway has seen in years.”

Director Ismail has the cream of the crop for a cast, starting with the always wonderful Janis Stevens as Violet Weston, the pill-popping matriarch of a dysfunctional family who have gathered together because father Beverly Weston (Rich Hebert) has disappeared.

It is a shame that Hebert’s role as the grizzled, depressed, bourbon-guzzling former-professor-now-wannabe-poet is so small because his performance is stellar and makes you want more.

The Westons have three daughters: Barbara (Amy Resnick), Ivy (Taylor Burris) and Karen (Dena Martinez). Barbara and Karen have gone off and made a life for themselves, leaving the unmarried Ivy to stay home and take care of their aging parents. Her mother is particularly cruel to her, taunting her for her appearance and pushing her to put on make-up, dress up, get out and find herself a man.

Burris walks the line between wimp who has endured her mother’s verbal abuse all of her life, and a woman hiding a secret that may make her the strongest of all the Weston girls.

Barbara arrives with husband Bill (Rick Eldridge), from whom she is separated (one of the secrets spilled fairly early in the play) and 14-year-old daughter Jean (Jessica Brooks). While Brooks seems older than 14, she is able to play the stereotypical ornery and hormone-driven teenager to perfection.

Martinez is Karen, the flighty daughter, who hasn’t been home in a very long time, not even when her mother was diagnosed with cancer. She arrives in time for her father’s funeral, but is more excited about her life, her fiancé Steve (William Glasser) and their approaching nuptials as well as her dream honeymoon in Belize.

Jamie Jones is the perfect choice for Violet’s sister, Mattie Fae, whose husband Charlie (Harvey T. Jordan) worshipped his brother-in-law and is having a difficult time adjusting to his new role as family patriarch.
Their son, Little Charles, as played by Justin D. Muñoz, seems to have limited intelligence and is painfully shy, but is hiding a secret that will change lives.

Chiitaanibah Johnson plays Johnna, a Native American whom Beverly hires before his death to help care for his wife. Sadly, Johnson is the only member of the cast who has projection problems. Her early scenes, played very close to where I was sitting, were impossible to understand because she spoke so softly. Since she has a major impact on the family, it is good that she has few actual lines.

The cast is rounded out by Tim Church as Sheriff Dean Gibeau, all grown up now, but formerly Barbara’s high school prom date. Will sparks fly at their reunion?

The set, designed by Jonathan Williams, is huge, complicated and mobile. Rooms move in and out, allowing stage hands to change one scene unobtrusively while another is played out on another part of the stage.

This play is full of drinking, pill-popping, dope-smoking, cursing, infidelity, incest, lechery, suicide and one good slugfest, yet you feel invested in these people and care about them. Ismail’s direction honors Letts’ script and this is a gem of a production.

Best of all, after spending three hours with the Westons, your own family won’t seem quite so irritating when gathered around the Thanksgiving dinner table!