Review: The ThreePenny Opera

my review for EdgeNewYork.com published 2/13/12

Hidden inside an unassuming building on Manhattan’s west side, tucked away on its third floor, hides the TGB Theater, a small but suitable black box where Marvell Rep has assembled one of the most collectively talented casts currently performing on a midtown stage.

"The Threepenny Opera" by Kurt Weill and Bertolt Brecht is a pioneering work of the musical comedy genre and one of those oft-produced shows that, despite its existence in several varying translations from the original German, has become a standard of the American theater. Sometimes when a show is such a steady presence on the New York scene (it has seen seven Broadway mountings since it premiered in 1933), we view each new production with a nostalgia that can temper the work’s impact.

Artistic Director Lenny Leibowitz has made sure that this production will not be viewed through that lens of nostalgia, but with a fresh and nuanced gaze. It is not simply a remounting of a treasured piece from the canon: it is a living, breathing-at times, exciting-theatrical experience.

The sprawling plot line begins with Peachum, an entrepreneur in Victorian London whose business is to demand a tax from all the street beggars in town, finding out that his daughter has spent the night with Macheath, a dastardly criminal known colloquially as Mack the Knife.  We have previously been introduced to Macheath during the prologue by one of the beggars, the delightful (and delightfully pants-less) Stephen Sheffer singing the show’s most famous song, "Mack the Knife," which chronicles Macheath’s history of murder, larceny, rape, and general heartlessness.

In the second scene, the pathetic wedding of Macheath and Polly Peachum, we finally meet our antihero. Cruel and thoughtless he may be, but there’s no question why Polly would fall for such a bad boy: as played by Matt Faucher, Macheath is also strong, sexy, and charismatic.  Emma Ronsenthal’s Polly is no shrinking violet in the shadow of Macheath’s muscle. She brings a fearless, devil-may-care quality to the naïve Polly, and her renditions of "Pirate Jenny" and "Barbara Song" are feats of musicality and acting, respectively. Her name could be above the title.

Other stand-out performers include Joy Franz, deftly navigating a rather pronounced vocal break as the sneering, conniving Mrs. Peachum; Chad Jennings, who brings character-actor competence and leading-man charm to corrupt cop Tiger Brown, and the wonderful Ariela Morgenstern, whose bribe-taking prostitute Jenny Diver looks like a jaded, unbowed Natalie Wood.


As it is the benchmark of Brecht’s Epic Theatre movement, "The Threepenny Opera" should, in production, continually remind the audience that they are viewing a play. Rather than be caught up in the action and transported to an alternate reality a la Stanislavski, we are aware of the artifice.


To act as aides memoires, the ensemble of beggars and whores introduce each scene and song with a hand-painted sign suggestive of those carried by Peachum’s beggars. They draw a patch-worked set of red satin curtains, every swing of which evokes the billowing scarlet from Macheath’s bloody past.


Brecht’s London is a town populated by beggars, thieves, and whores. Corruption is the standard. It’s kill or be killed in this Marxist send-up of Capitalism gone haywire. Macheath gets double-crossed by just about everyone he knows but still doesn’t have the good sense to get out of town. He uses his every opportunity for escape instead as a time to go and have sex with prostitutes. This is what happens when lust for hedonism precludes the anticipation of its consequences.


Brecht did not want to be preachy and pious in this cautionary tale, but in the end (somehow) Macheath gets what’s coming to him. The show may be close to a hundred years old, but I’m still not going to tell you the ending. Go see it.


"The Threepenny Opera" plays in repertory through February 28 at TGB Theater located at 312 W. 36th St, just west of 8th Ave. for more information, visit www.marvellrep.com

Brazil! Brazil!

a review of mine for EdgeNewYork.com published 2/15/12

The New Victory Theater is a microcosm of Times Square’s transformation through the end of the last century. In the 1940s it was home to Minsky’s Burlesque. Throughout the 1970s and 80s it was a porn cinema. Today it is the city’s only theater devoted to performances geared exclusively toward children and family audiences. My, how things have changed!

But its current show "Brazil! Brazil!" is probably not what comes to mind when you think of Children’s Theater: "Hansel and Gretel" this ain’t. It is a love song to -- you guessed it -- all things Brazil. It is a plotless, hour-long, fast-paced celebration of the music, culture, and global influence of the Brazilian people. And it’s actually pretty sexy.

Throughout, there are video projections of a soccer ball (canary yellow and Kelly green, the Brazilian National football team’s colors, naturally) bouncing its way through the streets and beaches of Rio de Janeiro, past street artists, footballers, children, and adults.

Co-Creators/Co-Directors Toby Gough and Dr. Hana Al Hadad have produced a show that takes us on that same journey, catching glimpses of Brazilian life and customs, from the point-of-view of a wandering, run-away soccer ball.

"Brazil! Brazil!" is part concert, part circus, and part dance theater. A five-piece band remains onstage throughout the performance, providing the soundtrack for all the festivities. With its two electric guitars and drum set, it is more of a rock-n-roll band than a traditionally Brazilian one, though it does feature heavy on Brazilian rhythms and percussion.

One of the first vignettes is a showcase of Capoeira, an Afro-Brazilian martial art that incorporates dance and music. Here we are introduced to the show’s five strapping dancing men who will go on to dominate the bulk of the performance. This Capoeira is a tightly choreographed pseudo-battle with rapid high-kicks and quick spins that leave the audience dizzier than the shirtless heartthrobs onstage. It is interesting to note that the Capoeira is performed to up-tempo samba music rather than a traditional capoeira bateria.

While the Capoeiristas catch their breath and change costumes in the wings, a trio of "freestyle footballers" who have seemingly magical powers over their respective balls entertains us. These three have pretty impressive resumes when it comes to freestyle footballing. One of them (John Farnworth) participated in the 26-mile London Marathon all the while keeping a ball in the air. (Incidentally, during the marathon he was representing and raising funds for HIV charity Kick4Life.)

The children in the audience are particularly impressed by these gravity-defying soccer stunts. Judging by the "ooh’s" and "aah’s" coming from the crowd, I imagine they were all practicing with their own soccer balls the next morning.

The extravaganza is peppered with appearances by two beautiful women (for which Brazil also happens to be well known). Paloma Gomes sings a few traditional sambas, occasionally duetting with Mickey Beigi, who, in addition to being a dancer, is essentially the evening’s emcee.

But it is Gianne Abbott, lead dancer, who tries with lightning-fast gyrating and soulful dance moves to steal the show. Occasionally, she succeeds. Even after she leaves the stage at the show’s conclusion, one gets the impression that she continues dancing right into the elevator of her hotel.

"Brazil! Brazil!" arrives in New York after touring Europe, UK, and Australia as a show that could be Brazil’s theatrical ambassador to the world. Even if the families in the audience don’t understand every reference to lambada or samba or Carnival, the cast’s love and devotion to their own culture is obvious and infectious.

"Brazil! Brazil!" runs through February 26 at the New Victory Theater, 209 W. 42nd St. For information on tickets or attending a Capoeira workshop, visit newvictory.org.

NYC: The Rat Race Illustrated

Spiderman: Turn off the Shit Spigot

Last night I had the occasion to see that much talked about musical on Broadway, Spiderman: Turn Off the Dark. 
I'm probably a little late, reviewing a show that opened on Broadway last June.  Anyway, here's my take on the whole thing using 3 jpegs:

More specifically, this show is a very expensive (at times, dazzling) joke.

Peter Parker is a bright high school student who is regularly bullied by jocks.  This important plot point is illustrated in the HORRENDOUS song "Bullying by Numbers," a ditty which conspicuously does not appear on the soundtrack album.  I don't even know what "bullying by numbers" means.  I know that painting by numbers is a contrived way to create artworks with absolutely no talent, inspiration or skill.  So maybe it's like that.

Peter gets bitten by a genetically-altered spider on a school field trip to the local Top-Secret Genetic-Modification Research Facility and transforms into a superhero.

After Peter's idol, scientist Norman Osborn (played by the only person in this show worth mentioning Patrick Page), transforms himself into a genetic mutant he gets the cockamamie idea that all of humanity would be better off if they would too.  Villainous shenanigans ensue.

Useless Sub-Plots and Plot Points 

• Peter decides to use his new powers for good. But his girlfriend Mary Jane can't deal with him not being around.  So he decides to quit.  A minute or two later he decides to go back to being a super hero.
• The mad scientist creates 6 super villains all of whom are defeated by Spiderman in the course of one song.  
• Mary Jane's abusive, drunk father has one line and is referenced in only one song early in act 1.  
• Peter's uncle gets car-jacked.
• The mad scientist has a wife whom he accidentally kills and then 2 of her appear to him in a hallucination. i enjoyed that character but she was totally unnecessary.

Things That Made No Sense

•  I realize that when it comes to superhero stories (and musicals, in general) sometimes one must suspend disbelief and just go with it, but I ask you: wouldn't a bite from a genetically enhanced venomous spider just be more poisonous than usual?
• Mary Jane lives on the Lower East Side (presumably in the projects since her Dad is a drunk and doesn't work) and Peter lives in Washington Heights, but they go to high school in Queens. 
• Also, in the pile of crap known as Act I, Peter walks Mary Jane home after school.  That would have been a helluva walk.  And for no reason at all, the actors walked on a turning treadmill in order to walk while staying center-stage.  ummmmm, really? a treadmill built into the stage  for one stupid scene? no wonder this musical had such an outrageous budget and will never (mark my words) turn a profit.
• The Spiderman coffee mug in the gift shop at the Foxwood Theater cost $15.00.
• The title! I can't even tell you why it is called "Spiderman: Turn Off the Dark."  There is this one shit song called "Turn Off the Dark" that Arachne (the spider lady from greek mythology) sings to Peter (don't ask).  But I don't see why they didn't just call it Spiderman.

      Things I liked

• The opening number is super cool! The Greek spider lady is transformed into a spider by an angry goddess and a huge web is woven in front of our eyes on stage using ugly yellow fabric, aerialists, gravity and perfect timing.  The awesomeness of this moment is the only reason this character even exists.
• Spiderman flying out over the audience was spectacular.  Also you get to see muscled stuntmen in skintight clothes fly, spread-eagle, directly over your head. It's a great view.
• The sets were very inspired, especially when the audience is transported to the top of the Chrysler Building. 
• The ending. not the way the story was resolved; i was just glad when it was over.

If the creators of this musical had spent half the time making a good story that they spent perfecting outlandish graphic-novel inspired sets and circus-worthy acrobatics, this may have come together as a piece of musical theater.  As it is, what we have is a mess. 

Another Re-Write: The Name of the Game

Citi Pond, the free-admission ice-skating rink in Bryant Park

My latest assignment for TONY was another blog post about things to do in the City if you're making last-minute plans.  I'm getting closer to what they're after, i think.  I threw in a little humor, since the events we were suggesting both had 1980's themes.  I referred to it as "that bygone era of perms and mullets" and later suggested that attendees "dig out those acid-wash jeans and slide on those leg warmers" .... well the powers that be liked my theme so much they chose to tack on "feel free to describe fellow gliders' (ice skaters') moves as totally tubular and bodacious"  Ummm--I think they're beating a dead horse by taking it another step further.  Where's the rhythm?  But what do I know? I'm happy to have some published by-lines!


Have a great weekend, Reader!

I Got Re-Written!

My first assignment for Time Out: New York magazine was simple enough: write a blurb for the "Own This City" blog to accompany some photographs of an event that had happened the previous weekend.

So I took it very seriously. I spent thirty minutes composing a grammatically sophisticated, positively informative pair of sentences that--I thought--had an arc of rhythmic flow and whose ending tied a verbal bow around the whole damn thing.  Reading it aloud seemed to echo, "and they all lived happily ever after..."  Here's my original text:

For all the grown-up decisions and sober dealings being made there Monday through Friday, Freeze Tag on Wall Street was organized to add innocent amusement and juvenile jubilation to the Financial District one weekend a year.  The sixth-annual event happened on Saturday January 21 and included freeze tag among other playground games that, for these adults, hearkened back to simpler times when negotiations and mergers were scarcely more complex than whom it was Red Rover would be asked to send over.


Well I got re-written.  I'm new to publishing, so I suppose this happens to everyone.  It doesn't offend me, and I realize I am not Ernest Hemingway.  And certainly the Copy Editors (or whoever changed some of my key words) know the voice of TONY better than I.  And I have yet to learn the varying tones and styles for the magazine's different media: blog, listings, reviews, recommendations, features.  But, I was very proud of my little couplet and the Associate Editor who gave me the assignment said it was "perfect" ... So imagine my shock when I read later on the blog the following posting:


Despite all the grown-up decisions and sober dealings being made there Monday through Friday, for one weekend a year the Financial District is the site of juvenile jubilation. During the sixth annual Freeze Tag on Wall Street, on January 21, adults taking part in playground games were transported back to simpler times, when negotiations and mergers were scarcely more complex than whom Red Rover would send over.


Though the general meaning has been retained, the music in my opening rhythm has been halted with the replacement of "for" with "despite."  Also they are not synonymous. 


My use of the (perhaps) sentimental phrase "hearken back" suggests a Norman Rockwell portrait.  Nixing it and inserting "transport back," (in addition being redundant) changes my idea to metaphor, and suggests not nostalgia, but time travel.  


And finally, I will admit that my closing phrase was wordy and winding.  Reaching the end of that sentence was like reaching the end of a maze.  But reaching the end of a maze is a triumphant moment!  With the simplified text, that moment of triumph retains all the glory of reaching the bottom of an escalator.  Sure, you're at your destination.  But so what?

WAIT A MINUTE...I have just dissected 2 silly sentences and addressed my grievances with professional opinions of my amateur attempts!  God, how self-indulgent can I get?  


My work has been streamlined, not simplified.  My re-write was not reductive.  It has been taken off its high horse and rinsed of its gaudy esoteric sheen.  I should be glad.  


This writing business is a learning process.  And I'm happy you've chosen to follow me on the journey.  

Theater Review: Coffee House, Greenwich Village

published 16 January 2012... and by the way, the first time I ever panned an actor's performance.  At first I was racked with guilt. But I'm a performer's critic: I not only criticized her performance, I offered her a suggestion (and remarked on her beauty).  

The Manhattan Repertory Theatre’s Winter One-Act Competition continues this weekend featuring, among others, “Coffee House, Greenwich Village” written by John Doble and directed by Olivia Harris. 

Two nervous strangers are set to meet for a blind date, premeditated via internet dating site, those modern matchmaking means now ubiquitous as Greenwich Village coffee houses.  Jack, played with anxious appeal by the likeable Nicholas J. Pearson, arrives first, with flowers and sweaty brow, hopeful he will soon find a soul mate.  Enter Pamela, played by Elizabeth Dilley, radiant as a young Bette Davis, but tentative here in her role as temptress. 

The playwright has woven a web of dialogue in which the characters appear by turns to fiercely dominate and then submit to one another through light, impersonal small-talk.  Pamela, in what at first seems like a bad joke by a jumpy girl on a first date, notes that women are like cats.  “We’re feline,” she says.  But as the story unfolds, we realize that men are not, in turn, canine: in Pamela’s world, they’re the mice.

Mr. Doble has constructed a story of Hitchcockian scope that in the one-act format feels rushed.  He has endowed the role of Jack with a range of comedic and emotional depth for the actor, which Mr. Pearson takes full advantage of.  However the role of Pamela still seems to be a mystery to both Mr. Doble and Ms. Dilley.  To be fair, she’s a mysterious character.  Still, I wish the actress had grounded herself more emphatically in Pamela’s sexual energy, since the only concrete thing we know of her is that sex is, quite literally, her weapon.

Alex Engquist (handsome, underused) plays the small but pivotal role of waiter in the coffee house who inexplicably never delivers the second round of espressos the couple asks for. 

What’s exciting about the transaction between Jack and Pamela is how quickly fantasy can turn to cold, cruel reality.  Also, the way their internet hook-up plays out like so many others in the Village everyday: foreplay, climax, followed by a hurried goodbye.

“Coffee House, Greenwich Village” by John Doble plays at 2pm today at the Manhattan Repertory Theatre located at 303 W. 42^nd St on the 6^th floor.  For more info visit www.manhattanrep.com