REVIEW: Brighton Beach Memoirs

Jackson Garke stars as an impressionable and irrepressible pre-teen in Evergreen Players' poignant production of Neil Simon's "Brighton Beach Memoirs." Photo Credit: Rachel D. Graham

Neil Simon is arguably the most successful writer of comedies for the stage in the last half of the 20th century. He will be remembered for such still popular works as "Barefoot in the Park," "The Odd Couple," "The Sunshine Boys," and "Laughter on the 23rd Floor." They will be remembered because they are funny.

But there's another side to Neil Simon's prolific talent, an introspective, dramatic and purposefully cathartic side which draws on his own pain and through which he seems to be exorcising personal demons. Inspired by the styles of various and more respected "dramatic" playwrights, he works out his own "stuff" on the stage, perhaps hoping that we can benefit vicariously from his sometimes fiercely unflinching self-examination.

"Brighton Beach Memoirs," which is being presented by Evergreen Players at Center Stage through November 6, takes us into the chaos and misery of a crowded home filled with dysfunctional characters, as seen through the eyes of an impressionable and irrepressible pre-teen boy. It's sort of like Eugene O'Neill's "Long Days Journey Into Night" with twice the number of suffering souls, and, because this is still Neil Simon after all, punctuated by gag lines.

Pubescent Gene (energetically played by Jackson Garke) is growing up in a pressure cooker of a home in 1937 Brooklyn. Least afflicted in the family, his biggest concerns are a growing fascination with female nudity, masturbation, and getting blamed for everything that goes wrong in the house.

Meanwhile, world war looms on the horizon, and his Polish-Jewish family is legitimately concerned about an influx of refugee relations when there's already precious little food to go around. Dad (Ken Paul) carries the weight of the world on his weary shoulders as he schlepps through multiple jobs. Mom (Michele Wright) is a world-class worrier and a terrible cook. Gene's guilty and tormented brother (Joe LaFollette) tries not to bring shame to his family and fails. Also sharing the cramped space are Gene's squinting, lonely aunt and two cousins: one wants to quit school and become a chorus girl, and the other exploits her heart defect to avoid helping around the house.

Each character has his or her own personal crisis, which more or less overlaps the others' and adds exponentially to the overall atmosphere of dreadful malaise. The second act ups the ante of everyone's angst, adding complications to existing problems, and introducing new, insurmountable obstacles to happiness, peace, and even survival. Finally, Simon has to jam together a bunch of confrontation and reconciliation scenes to give the play satisfactory closure, even though almost none of the problems have actually been solved.

But, we are reassured, family is family, and family sticks together. That sentiment alone, twisted as it may be, still seems somehow better than what is happening to American families today, who seem to lack commitment and staying power.

Under the direction of Tony Catanese, the cast maintains a consistent tone of repressed suffering, leading convincingly to hurtful outbursts and inevitable blowouts of frustration. The play is such a downer -- and perhaps in a good way -- that Gene's wise-cracking aloofness is the only energy available to carry the audience through the pathos. But Simon's/Gene's one-liners become less and less amusing, as they devolve from a kind of cocky coping mechanism to a desperate expression of emotional detachment.

Neil Simon managed to escape the dehumanizing whirlpool of failure, at least professionally, and has earned his place in history. Abraham Lincoln is quoted as saying, "I laugh because I must not cry. That is all. That is all." But I can't imagine Simon writing this play without weeping over every page.

"Brighton Beach Memoirs plays at 7:30 p.m. Friday-Saturday, and 2 p.m. Sunday, through November 6. Tickets are $18, with discounts for groups, seniors and students. I do not recommend this play for children under age 12 due to mature themes and frank sexual dialogue. Call 303-674-4934 or visit online at www.evergreenplayers.org.

PROMO: Cannibal - The Musical

This time of year, I'm eagerly on the lookout for a funny, freaky Halloween theatrical treat. Twice I've been thrilled by the Bug Theatre and PaperCat Films' live and undead production of Night of the Living Dead. It's great fun. Check it out at http://www.bugtheatre.org/.

But this year, my appetite for haunting Halloween hilarity is leading me up to Breckenridge to see the outrageously funny stage version of the cult classic film Cannibal - the Musical, which performs at the Breckenridge Theatre through October 30.

Before creating the South Park phenomenon, and long before taking Broadway by storm with The Book of Mormon, prolific satirist Trey Parker cut his creative teeth writing and starring in Cannibal - the Musical, a low-budget film inspired by actual events relating to Colorado's own man-eating monster Alferd Packer.

Parker's warped and whimsical view of Packer's ill-fated journey from Utah to Colorado Territory (on the way to Breckenridge!) that resulted in his consumption of the gold prospectors he was supposed to be leading, produces belly laughs and comic gold. Some of the songs are just way too funny, including "Shpadoinkle Day," "Let's Build a Snowman," and Packer's ballad to his horse, "When I Was On Top Of You."

The show is directed by Christopher Willard, a major talent in the region, and returning for the Breckenridge Theatre's third staging of the show is the production's original Alferd Packer, Charlie Schmidt. The musical is uproariously optimistic, even when the events are over-the-top horrific. Be warned, there is adult humor, language, and brief nudity. No mention of gore, but I'm guessing audiences will get a belly full.

Cannibal - the Musical plays at the Breckenridge Theatre, 121 South Ridge street, Breckenridge, CO. Performances are at 7:30 p.m. Friday-Saturday Oct. 21-22, 7:30 p.m. Thursday-Saturday, Oct. 27-29, and 6:30 p.m. Sundays, Oct. 23 and Oct. 30. Tickets are $23. Call 970-453-0199 to make a reservation or purchase tickets online at http://www.backstagetheatre.org.

REVIEW: 'To Kill a Mockingbird'

Caroline Rosenblum and Kathleen McCall in the Denver Center Theatre Company’s production of To Kill a Mockingbird. Photo by Terry Shapiro

Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird" is a better novel than Christopher Sergel's stage adaptation, but only because the conventions and point of view of the novel don't always translate well to a fixed space and a two and a half hour time span. Even so, the play, presented by the Denver Center Theatre Company and directed by Sabin Epstein, communicates effectively as drama, and adds a few surprising twists.

The novel relates seemingly unrelated events during ten-year-old Scout's summer, involving small town life in the south: a reclusive neighbor, a rabid dog on the loose, a new boy in the neighborhood, and the story's crowning sequence: Scout's attorney father Atticus' doomed attempt to protect and defend an innocent black man accused of raping a white woman.

The Gregory Peck film version of "To Kill a Mockingbird" came out in 1962, just two years after the novel was published, so both were ideally situated to become influential statements during the civil rights movement. So much so, that many people think of this story as a tragic but inspiring courtroom drama centered around a progressive, heroic, crusading lawyer.

The DCTC's production takes a different approach. My impression of the directorial choices made by Epstein, is that Scout's summer was memorable not because it was so meaningful and socially significant, but because the trauma each character suffered warped or deformed them in some way. In my opinion, this production emphasizes not the nobility of the characters and struggle for respect and dignity, but the long-lasting damage caused to the people who suffered through an ugly time.

No real, larger good prevails. It's an essentially sad and pessimistic interpretation, a bitter but valid pill, true to the material. There's more Tennessee Williams in this production than Arthur Miller.

John Hutton looks and sounds a lot like Gregory Peck, and has the heroic stature, but this Atticus is ashamed of his military service, fails to defend his children from a verbally abusive neighbor or hateful townfolk, is reluctant to take up arms even as a rabid dog threatens his children, and accepts the appointment to defend an innocent man with reluctant resignation. On several occasions he places himself as a sacrificial shield in front of angry and violent people, but offers no resistance. In fact, his daughter has to use her own wits to rescue him from being overrun by a lynch mob. His reputation with the white community is perhaps permanently ruined, and the black preacher's qualified praise for him is that "no one else could keep a jury out that long."

The three children in the story are severely damaged by their experiences. Scout's brother's arm is broken so badly that it becomes stunted. The new boy (who in real life was Truman Capote) develops a morbid fascination with deviant and criminal personalities, and Scout suffers a broken leg and psychological trauma that sets her on course toward a mental breakdown.

The disintegration of Scout's sanity is especially evident in the emphasis given on the narrator, Jean Louise Finch (ably played by Kathleen McCall), who is the adult Scout remembering the events of her childhood. Jean Louise doesn't just relate the past events, as in most memory plays. She relives the painful experiences as if they are happening to her again and again. The narrator is not allowed any aesthetic distance. During the climactic trial scene, the young Scout is tucked way upstage, on a balcony and behind a tree, but Jean Louise is right beside her father, helpless and agonized.

In a brilliantly insightful but desperately sad moment, Jean Louise can't even tell the audience what eventually happened to her father. She breaks down and is unable to continue to catharsis. She can't work through the experience, and becomes stuck in her pain. But then her childhood self takes her by the hand and leads her into the home of her memory. She becomes a recluse, like Boo Radley, incapacitated, unable to step out into the light, or move on with her life.

In the healing ministry, we understand that people who have suffered severe emotional wounds continue to feel the pain of years past -- even if the abuser is long dead -- as if it's happening right now. This is the case of Jean Louise.Telling the story over again for the audience doesn't make it any better for her. Then I realized that the cast will repeat this performance many times, and with each repetition they will have to go through the pain as if for the first time. What a profoundly sad way for art to imitate life.

Harper Lee described herself as inherently shy and never comfortable in the limelight. She never completed another novel. Many of the characters and scenes in "To Kill a Mockingbird" are based on or adapted from actual people and events in her life. It doesn't take much of a leap to imagine that this powerful production strikes closer to the unbearable truth than the book and film's heroic, noble reputation.

The Denver Center Theatre Company's production of "To Kill a Mockingbird" plays at the Stage Theatre through October 30. Call 303-893-4100 for tickets, or visit www.denvercenter.org.

PROMO: 'Secret of Skull Island' dinner show

Colorado ACTS presents an Alumni Production of
The Secret of Skull Island
Letters from a respected New Jersey bank lure seven  doomed "guests" to the eerie and fog-bound Skull Island on Cape Cod.  Each hopes for a financial windfall.  What each gets is — murder!   The unraveling of the bizarre plot involves a brash young writer and the details of a murder trial where a startling revelation comes too late.   
Thurs Oct 27, 7:30 $2.00
Fri. Oct. 28, 10:00 p.m. $5.00
Sat. Oct. 29 Dinner Theatre Dinner Served at 7:00, Show at 7:30, $12.00 for both dinner and Show
Sun. Oct. 30 Dinner Theatre Dinner served at 1:30, Show at 2:00,
$12.00 for both dinner and Show.
Call for Dinner Reservations 303 456-6772
Two Roads Charter School
72nd and Oak, Arvada, CO

REVIEW: 'The Liar'

Drew Cortese in the Denver Center Theatre Company production of The Liar. Photo by Terry Shapiro. 

Among theatre history aficionados, an opportunity to see a production of a Pierre Corneille play is a rare treat. I've been involved in theatre for nearly 40 years, and never before have I had the opportunity to even read, much less see an English version of Corneille's classic 1643 French comedy "The Liar."

While Corneille doesn't quite rate as highly as Moliere in terms of modern translations, David Ives' "transladaptation," of "The Liar," playing through October 16 at the Denver Center Theatre Company's Space Theatre, is bright, light, loaded with laughs and amazingly accessible to contemporary audiences.

A compulsive liar concocts elaborate fibs, not for personal gain, to hurt others, or for self-protection, but because of an otherwise commendable and irresistible artistic desire to embellish real life with his gift for descriptive language and an impressively rich and colorful imagination. His colossal fantasies create all kinds of complications for the people around him, but no real harm is done.

Dorante (Drew Cortese) arrives in town and falls in love at first sight with Clarice (Amelia Pedlow), who is secretly engaged to Dorante's friend, and whose lonely companion Lucrece (Jeanine Serrales) thinks SHE'S the object of his affection. Dorante's dad wants to marry him off to one or the other, and Dorante is well served by an honest yet gullible manservant (Matt Zambrano), who advises the audience to "turn off their brains with their cell phones" and simply enjoy the play.

And that's very easy to do. The show is completely unconcerned with the moral consequences of breaking one of the ten commandments. It's not so much about telling the truth, as fabricating outlandish fantasies that we never really believe anyway, but enjoy simply because they are so preposterous.

The plot is extremely light and simple, involving mistaken identity, mis-delivered love letters, identical twin servants and the like, but the show exists primarily to provide a showcase for a series of spectacular monologues and set piece "bits," including a show-stopping "air duel," and instruction on how to lie. The costumes are gorgeous, the acting is terrific, but the real stars of the show are David Ives' brilliant script, and Kent Thompson's direction, which is nothing short of genius.

Ives has done far more than translate the original into rhymed pentameter, which would be a huge accomplishment in its own right. The script is witty, clever, knowing and filled with surprises, in-jokes and delights. Thompson's direction is extraordinary, not just in the performances he elicits from the talented cast, but in the shaping, blocking and business, and timing of the performances. "The Liar" is not just a masterpiece, DCTC's production is a masterwork.

"The Liar" was definitely worth the 40 year wait. This is one "classical" comedy I could see again and again.

'The Liar' plays at the Denver Center Theatre Company's Space Theatre through October 16. Performances are 6:30 p.m. Tuesday-Thursday, 7:30 p.m. Friday-Saturday, with matinees 1:30 p.m. Saturday-Sunday. Tickets start at $35. For information and tickets call 303-893-4100 or visit online at www.denvercenter.org.