Camden Community Theatre Rises To the Challenge In Presenting “Chicago.”

Review by Larry Hembree.

The Kander and Ebb musical “Chicago” originally opened on Broadway in 1975, and a successful revival in 1996 inspired the Oscar winning film version in 2002.  The show is an interesting musical satire of legal corruption and criminal celebrity, and it is set in jazz era of Chicago during Prohibition.

This review of Camden Community Theatre’s current production of “Chicago” presented by the Fine Arts Center of Kershaw County in Camden is brief.  I could go on and on about what a great production has been mounted but you need to go see it for yourself. Get your tickets now. You won’t be disappointed.

With so much emphasis placed on the work of Columbia’s in-town theatres, smaller community theatres outside of Richland County sometimes get lost in the mix.  But theatres such as Chapin Community Theatre, Village Square Theatre in Lexington, and yes, Camden Community Theatre are doing notable and relevant work.  (If you have never been, Camden is a short drive from Columbia, and it has a booming Fine Arts Center complete with an art gallery, theatre, and an educational wing with visual art, music, and dance facilities. The Center is also currently in the process of constructing a new black box performance space on its campus.)

“Chicago” can be described as a glitzy and intense musical that is dark, complicated, and filled with many shorter Brechtian-like scenes, and I have to admit I was a little hesitant to see a production of this complex and difficult show mounted by a small community theatre.

But this production holds up beautifully.  The show boasts a tight well cast ensemble with fantastic musical direction by Andy Wells (and a terrific band to boot).  Director Frank Thompson creates a cohesive production where all elements from costumes and attitude to sound and lighting are nicely connected and balanced.  Thompson succeeds in creating a tightly knit show with great rhythm and pace as he develops both funny and poignant moments.

Thompson’s direction is well executed, creating very effective stage pictures on the ample stage with a totally functional set designed by Andy Mills.  Other production elements are stellar with smartly layered lighting designed by Bryant Herring.

The cast works endlessly and tirelessly to push the story out past the fourth wall and are mostly successful.   Notable are the leading actresses, Virginia Owen as Velma Kelly and Abigail Smith Ludwig as Roxie Hart, who succeed in creating memorable contrasting characters.  They work well both individually and in tandem, and they sing and dance well too.

The supporting cast is generally exceptional, especially Zack Gurley as Amos, who brings just the right amount of energy to the little naïve husband of Roxie.  Nancy Ann Smith also brings a remarkably rich performance to the show as Matron “Mama” Morton, and Leandra Ellis-Gaston stands out as June, who understands when to push and when to stand aside and let others have their moment.  As the novelty character, Mary Sunshine, A. Upchurch possesses the gift of comedic timing, which is quite fun to watch.

If you want to experience an evening of memorable rich performances in a show that celebrates the best in American musical theatre, take the short trip over to Camden this weekend, and enjoy this production of “Chicago.”  Kudos Camden Community Theatre for what will likely be in the theatre’s long history, a gem of a show.

The show runs January 27-29 and reservations can be made online at www.fineartscenter.org or by calling the Fine Arts Center at 803-425-7676.

Town Theatre Pushes Traditional Boundaries With “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels”

Review by August Krickel.

Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, Town Theatre's first show of the new year, was based on a moderately successful 1980's film with Steve Martin and Michael Caine, which in turn was based on a lesser known David Niven-Marlon Brando farce from the 1960's. Critics received its Broadway debut pleasantly but not ecstatically; the play had a decent run of a year and a half, and was nominated for a number of Tony Awards, winning only Best Actor. Not surprisingly, Town's production is a modest success, undeniably entertaining, and often funny, if never exactly exhilarating. While perhaps only a small step for local musicals, this may be a giant leap for the nation's oldest community theatre, now in its 93rd season.

Kyle L. Collins is perfectly cast as Lawrence, a suave con artist preying on the jet set of the French Riviera. Doug Gleason is Freddy, a low-rent grifter who aspires to Lawrence's level of success. Assorted plot devices lead them first to join forces, eventually squaring off against each other, with the luscious "soap queen" Christine Colgate (Giulia Dalbec-Matthews) and her assets, both fiscal and physical, as the
 prize. It's exactly the sort of plot that would have featured Bob Hope, Bing Crosby and Dorothy Lamour in the 1940's, or Dean Martin, Jerry Lewis and Shirley MacLaine in the 1950's.

As in those films, jokes are broad, physical comedy broader, songs are rich and melodic yet generic, and sometimes the fourth wall is broken for comic effect; when a "mark" assumes that she is now engaged to Lawrence, Collins turns to the audience and asks "Wait, did I miss a scene?" Gleason's over-the-top characterization borders at times on mugging, but your level of affinity or tolerance for Steve Martin-style buffoonery at its most extreme will guide your appreciation of Freddy. Surprisingly, his singing voice is rich and pleasing, and physically he is reminiscent of a younger Bill Canaday, a longtime local character actor seen at Town in countless shows over the last few decades. 

Collins looks and sounds like a traditional romantic leading man (a role he often plays) but also has the right comic delivery to carry off Lawrence's wry banter as he plots despicable deeds. Dalbec-Matthews, often seen in supporting roles as temptresses, shines as leading lady and love interest.  Her entrance late in the first act is an explosion of charisma and vitality. I can't recall a time that her voice has sounded this strong, although at times she is quite soft and vulnerable.  Her character spends a good bit of time on stage running from one spot to another and occasionally taking a fall, and Dalbec-Matthews navigates it all with a dancer's style and grace. 

As with his productions last year of The Drowsy Chaperone (at Town) and Victor/Victoria (at Workshop) director Scott Blanks keeps the pace moving quickly.  Often in community theatre the stage is packed with bodies, some of whom can sing, some of whom can dance, and some are there just to share the experience.  No such problems here - the compact ensemble of only fourteen all sing, all dance, and all transition though twenty or more costume and scene changes with ease, creating various social settings with only a few couples at a time. Four or five featured female dancers (some teens, some veteran performers) perform the most complex of Christy Shealy Mills’ choreography; there's an age range spanning more than twenty years, but all convincingly appear to be beautiful, glamorous showgirls in their early 20's.  Musical Director Lou Warth has opted for recorded music rather than a live band.  The cast has no problem keeping up, even with some intricately-timed sound effects, but on the Sunday afternoon after opening, there were still a few major sound glitches with feedback and static, distorting and distracting from important exposition in the opening scene.

I had a love/hate relationship with Danny Harrington's set. A number of pieces (many seen in previous shows) including a simple door-and-walls flat  that dropped in to represent Christine's posh hotel suite, a spectacular lighting array set against a black backdrop to suggest a starry sky, and a lush painted drop depicting a detailed stone wall and a verdant garden beyond, were all quite effective.  Yet almost half the action was set against an awfully high-school-ish-looking entry/curtains/stairs/balcony construct.  I kept wishing that there had been time or resources to add some sort of painted drop behind (instead of a blank piece of fabric) in keeping with the Mediterranean setting, and so was surprised to see the final scene play out in front of exactly that, a believably detailed beach scene. Lori Stepp's costumes were appropriately chic, especially Dalbec-Matthews's stylish blue cocktail dress, although a number of the men's suits and some uniforms seemed a bit dated, rooted more in the era of Don Draper than contemporary fashion.

David Yazbek's music and lyrics are consistently peppy and will keep your toes tapping. "Great Big Stuff," Freddy's list of things he wants from the glamorous  life, is quite amusing, and "Love Is My Legs" (don't ask - it fits within the context of the show) is an expert parody of inspirational power ballads. Still, an hour later it was almost impossible for me to recall any actual tunes. 

With intermission the show runs nearly two and a half hours, and I do think three or four songs and a subplot or two could have been lost from the original without harm. Jeffrey Lane's book is full of gags both highbrow and low, and the tone is decidedly PG-13.  Which leads me back to my original point about the giant leap: while Dirty Rotten Scoundrels is pleasant and harmless escapist entertainment featuring some talented performers, I lost count, at ten, of the number of words and sexual references that I doubt have ever been heard or seen on the Town Theatre stage before. (Well, not by an audience anyway.) Nothing is any worse than a typical episode of Seinfeld or Friends, but when Freddy finds Christine's face buried in his lap (something to do with a spilled bowl of soup) or when Christine mistakes a candlestick, which Freddy stole by hiding it in his pants, for....well, you realize it's not exactly your father's Town Theatre.

Most of the cast and creative team have worked at Town before, but elsewhere too, and it's refreshing to see a name-brand Broadway show from recent years produced with relative polish and style, but also without fear of offending audiences. Case in point: the matinee audience I joined was largely older; as I left the theatre there was literally a bus from Still Hopes waiting to pick up its passengers.  Yet the audience consistently laughed at the bawdiest of jokes, and gave the cast a standing ovation.  Fresh blood and fresh shows are never a bad thing, and one hopes for continued appreciation by audiences of all ages and a successful run. 

Workshop Theatre’s “John and Jen” Is A Solid Piece Of Theatrical Art

Review by James Harley.

It’s not that difficult to create a script that has “universal appeal.” You simply write about love or loss or something else that virtually everyone has experienced, right? Indeed, far too many productions rely on the power of the story alone to trigger the emotional reflex, satisfied to just flip the audience’s switch for a sure-fire response without really going further to create an actual piece of art.

“John and Jen,” currently playing at Workshop Theatre, is NOT one of the above shows, but rather a thoughtful, well-crafted and complete theatrical work that goes the extra mile to unite words, music, visuals and action in the artful telling of a poignant tale of loss and the lessons that follow. But if you want a little universality as well, don’t worry; as long as you’ve had a brother or sister, son or daughter, or mother or father, you’ll find “John and Jen” applicable to your life in some substantial way.

The text itself is very well-written, with each act being somewhat a mirror of the other, just with slightly different circumstances. We are introduced to siblings John and Jen via a musical slideshow of sorts, which chronicles their growth to the point that they become old enough to leave home and follow their own individual paths. Jen’s leads her to a hippie lifestyle in New York City while John’s takes him to battle in Vietnam. Their divergent aims create tension between the two, but the tragedy of his death reunites them in spirit, if not in person. Jen tries to come to grips with her loss, but also with herself for failing to embrace John for who he was – her brother. The memory haunts her and shapes her life for years to follow, while the viewer observes the effects.

Any two-person show creates a challenge as far as spectacle is concerned, and director Chad Henderson does an excellent job keeping this one visually engaging via a constant flow of meaningful stage pictures using all of the space and levels available. While the show is operatic in nature with virtually no spoken dialogue, there is no accompanying dance, which makes his success with this task even more impressive. Transitions are likewise smooth and polished, allowing the established energy within each scene to enhance the next.

The simple scenery aids in the telling of the story without getting in the way, serving as a rather neutral background for the evolution of the colorful characters whose feelings always remain the focal point of the action. None of the emotion is traded for glitter, leaving little room for audience distraction as John and Jen tell their tale.

Of course, it might take quite a bit of spectacle anyway to distract one from the vocal power of Kevin Bush and Linda Posey as John and Jen, as both veteran performers are outstanding singers, a requirement for any show with 25 songs. Both are also called upon to play an extremely wide age range as well, which they handle effectively. Bush shined particularly as a small energetic child, while Posey’s believability peaked when she became a welcome-to-the-real-world mother.

The fact that the show has only two characters is also a built-in strength, guaranteeing that there is no surrounding drop off in talent due to the presence of weaker supporting roles.

Musically the show is not outstanding in the sense of providing catchy numbers to hum on your drive home, but is perfect in that the music (like the scenery) does not overshadow the gripping story. Essentially the songs are just a beautified version of a serious conversation, where what is being said within them retains primary importance over how it is said. But, yes, note that there is beauty to be had here.

As with virtually any show there are some minor flaws, in this case on the technical side of things as lighting cues were off in several instances, but this doesn’t derail the experience significantly. “John and Jen” examines so many angles of familial relations and generational cycling that it would be difficult not to identify with it, and the production is so solid that it would be equally difficult not to enjoy it as a piece of theatrical art. If you tend to see most of the shows here in town you’ll likely see it anyway, but if you are selective in your patronage then this is one you should definitely consider selecting. Though it’s still early in 2012, “John and Jen” will probably be one of the best shows of the year.

Trustus Theatre's energetic “Spring Awakening” showcases new talent.

Review by August Krickel. 

Adolescent depression, pregnancy, child abuse, violence, pressure to succeed - there's a teenage wasteland erupting in Trustus Theatre's new musical production of Spring Awakening, based on the groundbreaking (and notoriously banned) Frank Wedekind play from the late 1800's. And there's sex.  Lots of burgeoning sexuality in every imaginable combination (boy-girl, boy-boy, boy alone in the bathroom with a photo, boy fantasizing about his teacher or a friend's mom, etc.). While the show is not for all tastes and is more successful in entertaining than in making any deep or lasting statement, Spring Awakening provides a chance for an audacious and energetic young cast and director to flex their creative and artistic muscles.

Such themes of teen angst are commonplace to today's audiences, and have been mined for dramatic and comedic effect for decades in literature (Catcher in the Rye and Portnoy's Complaint), on film (Splendor in the Grass and the American Pie movies) and on television (any episode of 90210 or Gossip Girl).  Set in the strict, repressive Germany of 1891, the play depicts a vastly more naive society, where learning is sterile, parents are stern, and the facts of life are not discussed with children. Melchior (Jay Zenger) stands out among his peers as a thoughtful, if rebellious, intellectual; his reading of books on his own gives him insight into the human condition, and he understands at some level the hormonal changes that are driving his contemporaries wild.  His hapless slacker friend Moritz (Patrick Dodds) feels overwhelmed by the pressures of school, parental expectations, and the chaotic thoughts that keep him up late at night. Wendla (Catherine Hunsinger) is a true innocent, whose mother refuses to explain in detail the changes Wendla senses in her body and spirit.  All three young actors embody their roles perfectly, and display strong singing voices as well. 

Duncan Sheik's score is technically rock music, although of the accessible Stephen Schwartz variety heard on Broadway for decades in shows like Godspell and Pippin (both of which also recount the search by young people for answers to questions they can't fully comprehend).  The basic rock line-up of guitar, bass, keyboard and drums are enhanced with a string section, reminiscent of the sound of the band Jump Little Children; under Tom Beard's capable musical direction, James Gibson alternates between double bass and bass guitar, effectively setting the right mood and tone in each musical number.  While Steven Sater's script somewhat recreates the more formal speech of an earlier era, his lyrics use the slang and vernacular of the 21st century.  Songs therefore are insights into inner thoughts, expressed via rock music, rather than characters actually singing to each other.  Microphones are used throughout, and reinforce the rock feel, although are hardly necessary given the small house and the vocal strength of the cast.  The wireless head microphones actually become a bit annoying, as when a character is stripping off his clothes in a disturbing seduction/rape scene, but leaves his microphone on.

Melchior, tall, vigorous and attractive, combines the sad sweetness and romanticism of the young McCartney with the iconoclastic intellect of Lennon.  In that vein, Moritz would then be the pale, gangly Pete Townshend, filled with rage and unfulfilled yearning.  While Zenger takes top vocal honors for the beauty of his voice, Dodds knocks it out of the acting ballpark with a perceptive, tragic portrait of a boy falling apart at the seams.  Resembling Robert Smith from The Cure (that high-hair look actually was popular a century ago, and it's only natural that Moritz forgets to use a comb) Dodds is more disheveled at each entrance, another button undone, another shirt tail or suspender hanging aimlessly.  Also of note are Avery Bateman as Martha, and Adrienne Lee as Ilse, especially in "The Dark I Know Well," where each confides a secret shame to the audience. While the actual characters never share this scene, Bateman moves her mic stand next to Lee, and the two hold hands while singing, symbolically giving each other strength in a powerfully effective yet subtle visual moment.  All the adults in the show are played by Vicky Saye Henderson and Christopher Cockrell; Cockrell is especially proficient at replicating the crisp manner of a German authoritarian, while never using an accent.  He also has the challenge of depicting grief in a very unsympathetic character over the course of a fairly long song, and his effort to hold back tears becomes far more poignant than actual crying could ever be.

Terrance Henderson's choreography is raw and filled with explosive energy. Virtually no traditional dance moves are used;  rather we see rhythmically gifted youths from a century ago, moving their bodies to the lively, frenetic beat of contemporary music, each doing his or her own thing but somehow strangely in unison at the right moments. Often they seem constricted by invisible chains, and when someone manages an upraised arm, a defiant stomp of a foot or a leap over a school room chair (as in the furious and passionate "The Bitch of Living") we see it as a triumphant victory.  Amy Brower's costumes (crisp school uniforms for the boys, sexless granny-dresses for the girls) define the era and Danny Harrington's set incorporates images from academia (anatomical drawings, Baroque nudes, Leonardo's Vitruvian Man) that make a clear if silent statement on the play's themes. Director Chad Henderson often uses the actors themselves to define locations, as when boys holding chairs at odd angles represent a large tree in a forest.  Henderson is to be commended for a very nuanced and well-crafted realization of the play's emotion, anger and pathos, as well as for completely color-blind casting, and for inspiring such professional-caliber performances from his very young cast, most brand-new to the Trustus stage. He paints appealing pictures on stage with his actors, as when Moritz, normally surrounded by a chorus of his peers, is all alone in a very narrow spotlight in his darkest hour.

Apart from its R-rated themes explicit sexuality and partial nudity, the show also may seem unfulfilling to some due to the original material's ending. At one level we are almost given a cautionary moral straight out of a silent movie or a 1950's school film: control your passions or tragedy will befall you. At another level we are given a kumbaya sing-along finale where we are assured that the anxieties of a teenage spring will mature into a wiser summer. There's an awfully fine line between timeless and universal truths, and cliché.  Ironically, the show’s lead producer on Broadway was Tom Hulce, best known for his screen portrayals of another unbridled intellectual in Amadeus, and of another naïve student desperate to explore his sexuality (Pinto in Animal House).