Review: Paradise Hotel

By Amanda Mull

Ladies and gentlemen, the emperor has no clothes. Both literally and figuratively. Not only was Forest Theater of Pure Form’s production of Paradise Hotel the kind of avant-garde theater whose surface-level complexity belies its actual vapidity, but also because there was totally a naked dude in it.

Written by acclaimed New York playwright Richard Foreman, Paradise Hotel is the kind of play that everyone says that they like because no one understands what in the world has happened. They know it’s supposed to be good, and no one wants to be the idiot that doesn’t get it. The standing ovation that the production received certainly indicated that no one in the audience wanted to be that guy.

The play begins with about a half dozen actors dancing the charleston to an annoying loop of charleston-appropriate music, which is then interrupted by a voiceover making an announcement that is identified as “disturbing and possibly illegal”: they are not actually performing Paradise Hotel, but a play called Hotel Fuck. Wait wait wait, another announcement: actually, there are two plays that are competing, and neither is Paradise Hotel. One is Hotel Fuck, the other is Hotel Beautiful Roses. The ad in the Flagpole is kind of misleading in this regard, because they definitely promised me a play called Paradise Hotel. Also, all audience members were instructed to wear feathers, but my sparkly red boa is obviously the best in the room. I feel kind of swindled, but soldier on.

Based on the names, it’s not hard to assume that one play is going to end up symbolizing physical, unemotional lust and the other, romantic and emotional love. That assumption would be completely correct. The characters spend most of the non-story attempting to get to Hotel Fuck and avoid the apparently evil Hotel Beautiful Roses (which, in addition to being dueling plays-within-plays, are also treated as if they are physical places), but are overtaken by the allure of romantic love in the end. Sort of. That’s where things get fuzzy. Or even more fuzzy, as it were, because Foreman goes to great lengths to make sure no one knows what in the hell is going on the entire time. He seems to be from the entirely pretentious school of thought that art is not good unless it is exceedingly difficult and inaccessible to the average person.

If that is the framework that Foreman is using to evaluate his success as an artist, then I’m sure he has given himself many a pat on the back over Paradise Hotel. The play involves, at different times, a man in a giant plastic deer head, a sex god in a faux fur cape on stilts, the use of the word fuck so many times that I become completely desensitized to it, and a fully naked man doing the charleston, which creates an uncomfortable and embarrassing amount of jiggling. Also, most of the characters kill themselves at least once in the play, which doesn’t stop them from hopping back up and getting on to the next disjointed, non-narrative scene.

To be fair, the production itself was not bad. Forest Theater of Pure Form is a small theater troupe that exists mostly on donations and ticket sales to perform in its tiny theater in the back of Rubber Soul Yoga Studio (their curtain was even hand-sewn by director Cal Clements). They produce a new play every month, which is a task most theater groups would never take on, and they handled their roles for March with grace and aplomb, particularly since Paradise Hotel is asininely complex. I am still awed by the fact that they all remembered what they were supposed to do next, since there was no narrative or chronology. A particularly bright stop was Kate Morrissey’s portrayal of Julia Jacobson, the play’s sexually driven, ambiguously Polish female lead.

Ultimately, it’s hard to decide whether or not Paradise Hotel was a failure because I have no idea what it set out to accomplish. Whatever it is, it doesn’t seem get there, and I wonder who will have the courage to tell the emperor (or that dude doing the unfortunate dancing) that he’s naked.

Review: A Streetcar Named Desire

By Shaina Mangino

Full of power and emotion, Town & Gown’s adaptation of A Streetcar Named Desire was a happy surprise. In a time of war and turmoil, Streetcar follows the lives of Stanley and Stella Kowalski and Stella’s sister Blanche DuBois over the course of a hot, tumultuous 1940s New Orleans summer.

As the curtains opened at this tiny playhouse off of Prince Avenue., it seemed as though Town & Gown’s rendition of Streetcar would simply be a lackluster version of the classic 1947 play written by Tennessee Williams. Initially, the performers seemed as if they had little training. It was hard to picture John Ginn as Stanley Kowalski after Marlon Brando’s performance in the 1951 film version. Stomping and yelling onto the stage, Ginn didn’t have Brando’s charisma nor did he deliver his lines fluidly. It sounded as if he was being prompted by cue cards. The creepy flower girl walking up and down the stage was also a little jarring.

However, Shelley Marck added some light to the stage in those initial few moments. She slipped right into her role as Stella Kowalski. Marck was extremely convincing as the young, naïve girl driven by the spontaneity and passion of New Orleans’s French Quarter and her husband.

About 10-15 minutes into the first act Kris Schultz Tanner made her entrance as Stella’s troubled, pretentious, Southern belle of a sister, Blanche DuBois. Coming from Laurel, Mississippi because her family plantation, Belle Rêve, was “lost,” Blanche doesn’t seem privy to the simpler ways of those living in gritty New Orleans. She gets off the streetcar named Desire looking quite scared and alone. Her sister welcomes her but almost reluctantly, for she knows of the interrogation to come. In no way does Blanche approve of Stella’s lifestyle or marriage to brutish Stanley.

Blanche lives in a fantasy creating illusions of youth, beauty and love for herself. As needed for this highly intense, multi-dimensional role, Tanner has extreme access to her emotions, but maybe she has too much access to them. Her portrayal of Blanche was annoying at times and it felt like someone just needed to take a rope and lasso her off the stage. The overacting in scenes where she merely talked with Marck’s character looked forced and overdone. On the flip side, Tanner’s overacting came in handy during the heated arguments and confrontations between Blanche and Stanley.

As the play moved in and out of scenes, each actor began embracing his or her role and became very believable by the end of Act I. The passion between Stella and Stanley wasn’t as awkward as it initially seemed and Ginn began to make his movements more fluid and brought the right amount of humor to Stanley’s shrewd but not-quite-all-there mentality. Though he really came into his role, Ginn severely lacked emotion in delivering the much-anticipated line that Brando made famous in 1951, “Stellaaaaaaaaaa.” Marck acted as a balance between the more multi-faceted roles of Stanley and Blanche, effectively playing the meek mediator for these two rivals. Though Act I was a little drawn out, it really set the tone for the rest of the play, which was much more intense and fast-paced.

The simple set design worked well for Streetcar since nearly the entire play takes place at the Kowalski residence. Minor scene changes were accompanied by dimmed lights and stage hands wearing black who added and removed props, which may have distracted some, but was reminiscent of the simple surroundings. The costumes looked authentic with Marck getting to wear some of the more fun, flirty dresses and 40s styled, high-heeled shoes. The minor characters of Eunice, Steve, and Mitch stabilized the three main characters by acting as a contrast to their stronger personalities.

Over the course of the next two acts, the audience learns of Blanche’s troubles and what she is really all about. The characters’ true personalities were revealed and there were a few surprises. Even though it got off to a bumpy start, Streetcar pulled through. The actors’ emotions radiated off of the stage and by curtain call several members of the audience mentioned how the play took a lot out of them emotionally. Its intensity was surprising for a production of this magnitude. The turbulent relationship between Blanche and Stanley peeked in the final 30 minutes culminating in Blanche’s ultimate undoing. Town & Gown’s Streetcar proved that a small-town community theater can produce a play full of drama and emotion.

Review: Uncle Vanya

By Claire Miller

When I walked out of the Cellar Theatre following the University Theatre's performance of "Uncle Vanya," I wasn't sure how to feel. Sad that every character in the play I'd just watched was consistently miserable? Confused by the noticeable lack of a plotline?

And then I realized something: I had just spent the last two hours watching a bunch of depressed, unsympathetic characters in turn-of-the-century Russia moan and groan about their horrible lives. I was glad both that the tragic play had finished and that my life wasn't nearly as melancholy as those portrayed minutes ago.

While the theatre's production of Anton Chekhov's Russian tragicomedy was enjoyable at select moments, overall it left something to be desired.

The play follows Alexander Serebrikov (played by Rob Glidden), a retired professor plagued by rheumatism, gout and the knowledge that his life is slowly coming to an end. While he spends his days alternating between taking walks in the country and cooping himself up in his room, his brother-in-law, Vanya (Michael Stille), and his daughter from his first marriage, Sonya (Koquina Forte), take care of the estate.

Not that the estate is much to look at -- all the furniture (which consists of a couple of benches and two tables) is covered in white sheets, which adds a layer of visual monotony to this two-hour complain-a-thon.

The tedium is only broken up slightly by visits from Dr. Astrov (overacted by Scotty Gannon), a country physician who attempts to treat the professor's ailments but finds himself more occupied by his own miserable existence and his infatuation with the professor's second wife, the beautiful and cold Yelena (stiffly portrayed by Ruth Crews).

Dr. Astrov knows he can't ever be with Yelena, and he dwells on this and other so-called "failings" in his life. This, it seems, is how a lot of characters handle their misery -- they complain about wasting their lives away and wishing they could be happy again rather than actually doing something about it. It's like watching a bunch of Hamlets stuck in a house together. With cabin fever.

"This place...it's like a prison," the professor says. Yeah, a prison for you and for me, since I have to watch it, I thought to myself.

The only people who don't seem miserable are the hired help, Marina "Nanny" Timofeevna (played by the loveable Sally Stenger) and Ilya Ilich "Waffles" Telegin (played adorably by Ryan Pannell). But they only appear in a few scenes, and their kind words are consistently pushed aside to allow more time for the other characters to whine. These two, along with innocent Sonya, provide the only heartfelt lines in the play -- a noble attempt to balance out the play's depressing nature.

The play has another nice moment when Yelena and Sonya share a bonding moment toward the end of the first act. However, this happy moment shifts quickly to a discussion of Yelena's unhappy life married to an older man she doesn't love. Just when you though you'd found the first uplifting scene in the play, it turns on you.

As a result, the audience has to watch Vanya and company wearing the same plain clothes, walking around the same dull set, talking about the same dismal subjects. If nothing else, people should go see "Uncle Vanya" to feel better about their own lives, secure in the knowledge that they aren't middle class farm owners living in early 20th century Russia. Because after seeing this play, anything is better than that kind of life.

Review: Jesus Christ Superstar

By Rachel Jacques

Ted Neeley was brilliant in 1973, as Jesus Christ in the onscreen version of Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber’s collaborative production of Jesus Christ Superstar. Now, 35 years later, I can honestly say Neeley has not only perfected this role, but has possibly taken on the character of Jesus Christ in the most genuine and believable performance since James Caviezel in The Passion of the Christ. Jesus Christ Superstar follows the final seven days in the life of Jesus ending with his ultimate crucifixion.

Amidst the swirling of scarves within the engaging choreography of the people of Jerusalem, Neeley entered the stage with awe-inspiring presence. I felt a lump in my throat as he received a standing ovation and applause from the majority of the audience. I believe there were even a few groupies from the seventies who sat in the front row blowing him kisses and screaming like little girls seeing their favorite boy band. Now that is some serious power. But I suppose after playing the character for 35 years you sort of develop a fan club.

Besides the tear jerking voice of Neeley, Living Colour’s Corey Glover played convincingly the betraying Judas Iscariot. His voice was powerful and certainly filled the entire hall of the Cobb Energy Center. Tiffini Dodson as Mary Magdalene also had a beautiful, strong voice through which she portrayed powerful emotions of sadness and regret as Jesus’ fate becomes more and more prevalent. The voices of the extras combined with the main roles, blended well together and achieved a sound of which Webber and Rice would approve.

The song “Trials and Tribulation” was especially noteworthy, comprised of solos by Jesus and the powerful and moving combination of his disciples’ voices as they gather for the last supper. The song ends with the men posing in the style of the classic painting by da Vinci, The Last Supper. Also, “Superstar,” the title song is exciting and I found myself singing along with Judas and the cast.

The sets and lighting were simple but effective. The lighting matched the emotion of the scene, brighter scenes during the less serious scenes and songs and darker, more condemning lighting throughout the more violent and sad scenes. Costuming was also nothing extraordinary. The cast wore mostly simple clothes similar to what you would think of as “bible clothes,” lots of shawls, sandals and flowing clothing. However, I didn’t understand the costuming of Mary Magdalene. Juxtaposed against the rest of the cast, she wore a white dress that was almost like eveningwear. If there was some sort of symbolism to this I missed it. Jesus also stood out in bright, white robes that often appeared to glow under the lights.

This performance left me excited and a bit emotional. I was ready to pop in the soundtrack for the ride home to quickly re-live the show. I was impressed by the actors that I was not familiar with, enthralled by the moving voices of every lead character, engaged by the choreography and emotional from the story itself. As for this being the farewell tour for Neeley, I can genuinely say that at 65, Ted Neeley as Jesus Christ is a Superstar.