Review: Going 15 Rounds with Frank Wildhorn and Emerging Unscathed

BONNIE & CLYDE
Book by Ivan Menchell
Lyrics by Don Black
Music by Frank Wildhorn

Through August 13 2016

Presented by Studio 18 Productions
at 12th Ave Arts
1620 12th Avenue
Seattle WA 98122

www.studio18productions.com

A caveat: I may not be the best person to review this show. I've been known to describe its score as "the Frank Wildhorn score I hate the least." 

It's great to see a production where the book, the score, the cast, and the rest of the creatives all work in harmony to produce a thing of beauty. This, alas, is not that production. Instead, it's one where the company does, well, the very best they can with what's been given them. 

Most of Wildhorn's shows are light on plot, character, and coherency, and full of bombast. And when I say "full," I mean over-long.

To B&C's credit, it is light on the bombast; rather than the overblown PHANTOM-manqué of THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL and JEKYLL AND HYDE, or the chaos of WONDERLAND, the bluegrass and country inspired sound of the show gives it a more intimate scale that serves the story and the performers better. 

Unfortunately, what does not in any way serve the performers is the book. The story manages to be too wordy and too skeletal at the same time, with much less there than meets the eye (or the clock). Every character can be expressed in about two sentences - not because they're so clear and well-drawn, but rather, the opposite. How this cast managed to build any internal life at all for "Hates the Banks and Glorifies Outlaws" and "Wants to Be a Star and Falls for Anything in Pants who Charms Her," as the title characters may be called, is a wonder. Not to mention brother "Torn Between Loyalty to Brother and Wife," er, brother Buck, or "Good Christian Woman in an Impossible Situation," or as we know her, Blanche. Even shallower is "High School Boyfriend turned Jealous Deputy," also known as Ted Hinton. (I suspect the thanklessness of this role may have been one of the final straws in bringing Louis Hobson back from Broadway to better roles and to development of far more interesting works in Seattle.)

The idea of the glorification of the outlaw during hard times likely has a genuinely interesting show lurking in it. And it might be as a 2:20 version of this show, with a better book and judicious editing of the music.  But it's not this one.

Struggling with the material, the cast takes some hard punches, and comes through to be much better than the show itself. The guys are very good; the women, even better. 

Zack Summers has recently been strong in large ensembles (ArtsWest's AMERICAN IDIOT) and small (Centerstage's RING OF FIRE); here in his first lead, he has the charm and bravado, not to mention the vocal power and subtlety, to really make Clyde's songs work. There's a can't-win aspect to the role, in that you have to dislike a lot of things about the character and sympathize at the same time; in some ways Zack may be too likable for some aspects of that - as were Jeremy Jordan and Stark Sands before him - but I don't think audiences would get behind a less charming or less attractive Clyde. Brian Pucheu does a fine job with Buck as well, though there's even less to work with.

As Bonnie, Jasmine Jean Sim makes you want to grab her and shake her about a dozen times during the show - which, I guess, means she's nailing the naiveté and vanity of the character. And she sings the living crap out of it. Kate E. Cook gets to sing my favorite number in the show as Blanche, "That's What You Call a Dream"... and totally, utterly does it, and the role of Blanche, justice.  

The rest of the cast has even less to work with, even Randall Scott Carpenter as lawman Ted, and they manage to grab the theatrical jello and get their arms around it.

BONNIE & CLYDE is Studio 18's first production. The energy that partners Matt Lang (director) and Alia Collins-Friedrichs (producer) bring to it, and the fine musical support by the ensemble led by Travis Frank, show great promise. I look forward to seeing what more interesting show they choose for their next outing - so the cast can triumph with the show, rather than over it.

One final thought: given the closeness of the black box theatre, I hope the cast didn't experience what I did during Act II. I feel like I just sat behind a piece of audience performance art. Last time I checked, "drinks are allowed in the theatre" is not the same as "share a burger and fries (including reaching across to dip the fries, scraping the pickles off your burger, and constantly crumpling napkins), reading the net on your phone for the last 25 minutes of the show, and kissing, cuddling, and chatting." I have never hoped so hard a cast couldn't tell what was going on in the audience. Patti LuPone would have shoved the burger down their throats, the phone up their butts, and told them what to kiss...

Review: RING OF FIRE at CenterStage Theatre

RING OF FIRE
The Musical Story of Johnny Cash

Created by Richard Maltby, Jr.

Conceived by William Meade

Adapted from the Broadway Production by Richard Maltby, Jr. and Jason Edwards

Through February 14 2016

at CenterStage Theatre

3200 SW Dash Point Road

Federal Way, WA 98003

www.centerstagetheatre.com

Funny thing, the jukebox show (and specifically, the songbook show): so many ways to go, and so many ways to get it wrong. 

Some creators choose to weave together a plot and nail songs to it. MAMMA MIA, XANADU, AMERICAN IDIOT, ROCK OF AGES, the forthcoming DISASTER... sometimes it works fine, sometimes less so. (I'm not taking sides on any of the shows I mentioned -- if you'd like to guess where I stand on each of them, have at it in the comments.)

Some opt for biography. Some artists' lives are inspiring or tragically interesting, and other, again, less so. JERSEY BOYS, THE BOY FROM OZ, BEAUTIFUL, MILLION DOLLAR QUARTET, FELA!... There's always the risk that the music will pull you out of the story as much as drive it along.

When all else fails, stick to the music. After all, if you go ALL SHOOK UP!, you want to hear lots of Elvis tunes; BEATLEMANIA, an overdose of the Fab Four. (My own personal favorite of the genre is JACQUES BREL IS ALIVE AND WELL AND LIVING IN PARIS, a wonderful production of which was co-presented by ACT and the 5th Avenue last season, with one of the leads of the current show wonderful in the cast.) For variety, add dance, as Twyla Tharp did for Billy Joel in MOVIN' OUT and Sinatra in COME FLY AWAY. But for the shortest path to satisfaction, let the music speak.

RING OF FIRE comes darn close to doing so. While it's billed as "the musical story of Johnny Cash," don't expect the warts-and-all biography of JERSEY BOYS. (If you really want a solid picture of that, of course, there's always the excellent film WALK THE LINE, or Robert Kilburn's book JOHNNY CASH: THE LIFE; for a deep backgrounder the Carter Family into which Cash married, read WILL YOU MISS ME WHEN I'M GONE?) The timeline that runs through the show pretty much serves to put the music in context, and if you know about Johnny and June it won't teach you anything new, and if you don't, it won't matter much to you either.

But that's not really a problem here. The show wisely lets the music speak. And it's performed wonderfully. 

Many of the songs in Act 1 are from the early days of Cash's life and his early and middle career, and set the backdrop of gospel ("Old Rugged Cross"), hillbilly (Hank Williams' "Straight A's in Love"), as well as rock 'n' roll and "traditional" country, plus a couple of his sillier pieces, "Flushed" and "Dirty Ol' Egg Sucking Dog." But we also get to see the beginning of the era when the respect for his remarkable talent opened up some of the richer rock and folk-rock of the 60s and later - Tim Hardin's lovely "If I Were a Carpenter" - as well as songs that are on almost anyone's Cash Top Ten - "Ring of Fire."

Act 2 is shorter but holds even more of those "name your favorite Johnny Cash song" songs, from the Folsom era and later, including "Folsom Prison Blues," "Man in Black," "I Walk the Line," and "Hey Porter." And the show wraps with the unforgettable "A Boy Named Sue." My favorite number in the show? I'll come back to that in a moment.

As for the performances... well, let's get one thing out of the way. If you're expecting to hear Johnny Cash's unmistakeable bass-baritone, well, let go of that. Instead, come to hear terrific singers and musicians doing great justice to the Johnny Cash songbook.

As (mainly) Johnny and June throughout the show, Jared Michael Brown and Cayman Ilika are terrific. Brown has been a fixture in the Seattle theater scene since the 2009 Contemporary Classics production of ZANNA, DON'T! He's appeared in ensemble, featured, and lead roles at major venues including the 5th Avenue (SOUND OF MUSIC, PIRATES OF PENZANCE), Village Theatre (IRON CURTAIN), and others. His performance is easy yet charismatic; his delivery is very much Cash's, but his excellent vocal performance is all his own. Ilika is a chameleon of a singer, with a voice that's crystalline and substantial all at once. She's been Mary Poppins and Marian the librarian, Patsy Cline and now June Carter Cash... and shines as all of them.

(I say "mainly" Johnny and June: the scaling down of the show from the 14 performers in the Broadway cast to the six in the current show occasionally leads to difficult transitions, such as when Cash and band are auditioning for Sun Records' Sam Phillips, and the role of Cash is handed off to one of the other musicians so that Brown can don sunglasses and play Phillips. A little clumsy dramatically... but not really important.)

The rest of the cast, and the band, include Tom Stewart, Jack Dearth, Zack Summers and Sean Tomerlin - with Summers on drums (and occasional comic outburst) and the other three on various guitars, including acoustic, electric, and bass. They, too, do great justice to the Cash songbook. 

As for my favorite song in the show: surprisingly, it's not one sung by the leads. One of the highest points of Cash's relationship with, and respect for and by, the next generation of performer and the mainstream of rock music was his performance of Kris Kristofferson's "Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down." While it was recorded by Ray Stevens first, Cash's performance really pushed the song into the limelight; Kristofferson thanks the song, and especially Cash's performance, for allowing him "to quit working for a living." Tom Stewart brought me to tears with his spare, tortured rendition. As did Johnny Cash. He would have been honored, I think.

If there's anything I regret about the show, it's that I was left wishing a few more songs had been in it - "One Piece at a Time," "Wayfaring Stranger," and from later on, John Prine's "The Twentieth Century is Almost Over" and Harry Chapin's "Cat's in the Cradle," to name a few. 

I really love it when my biggest problem with a show is that it left me wanting more...

Review: Green Day's AMERICAN IDIOT at ArtsWest

AMERICAN IDIOT
Music by Green Day
Lyrics by Billie Joe Armstrong
Book by Billie Joe Armstrong & Michael Mayer
Through October 11 2015
at ArtsWest
4711 California Ave SW
Seattle WA 98116
www.artswest.org

I've been staring blankly at the screen for a few minutes trying to figure out how to start. Part of me wants to analyze the material, the music, the performances, the direction, the staging. Part of me wants to lay bare my reaction to the energy and emotion and fire of the experience. It's as though my left and right brains want to go all Siskel and Ebert on its fine theatrical ass. So before I jump in and let my hemispheres duke it out, I'll say this: both sides of the corpus callosum aisle give ArtsWest's production of AMERICAN IDIOT a high thumbs up.

People are talking about this production. They tend to fall into two main camps: "I hate the music (or, more extremely, the music is everything wrong with the theatre today) but the production is amazing" and "I love the music (or, more extremely, this is what stands a chance of keeping musical theatre alive) and the production is amazing." I'm squarely in the second camp: I've loved Green Day since they were a local punk band in the Bay Area when I lived there in the late 80s and 90s, and when the album of AMERICAN IDIOT came out, saw it as a major leap forward for an already-powerful, thoughtful, creative band. The close thematic integration of the songs on the album make it clear that the work was written with an eye to other media and modes of presentation - not as thoroughly rock-operatic as, say, The Who's TOMMY or Pink Floyd's THE WALL in the fact that plot and characters aren't right there in the material (and the band didn't show all its cards about the narrative - it was likely not fully developed until the decision to take it to the stage and the participation of Michael Mayer) - but much more so than randomly strung-together jukebox shows like MOMMA MIA or JERSEY BOYS.

Let's get the (small) complaints about the work out of the way to start with. The plot is, to put it generously, lean. There's a punky off-scansion and loose rhyming to the lyrics that probably makes many Sondheim aficionados cringe. And it's not exactly a Bechdel test all-star, with the key women's parts existing to support the voyage of the central male trio.

But their story is both universal and specifically current - as current today, in its way, as it was when it hit vinyl (ok, MP3) over a decade ago. In post-American-dream America, Johnny, Will, and Tunny try to make their way being "how I'm supposed to be / In a land of make believe / That don't believe in me." They set out to leave suburbia for the city to find their souls and purposes, but Will finds out his girlfriend Heather is pregnant, and stays behind for a life of beer-weed-and-TV couch-potato resentment. Johnny and Tunny head out and each is seduced by what he sees as his icon: Johnny, under the spell of the nihilist drug-dealer St. Jimmy, replaces the numbness of suburbia with the numbness and soul-agony of addiction, Tunny, following the physically perfect, adored, and driven Favorite Son, replaces it with the numbness and physical agony of war.

I won't follow the plot to the end; suffice it to say that loves are born and lost (Johnny's with Whatsername and Tunny's with the Extraordinary Girl who nurses him to health), lives are changed, and the tension between love and rage that has defined Johnny's (and, by extension, everyone's) existence gives birth to a hope for the future that is new.

The magic of AMERICAN IDIOT, though, is not its story. It starts with the music. But where it really comes together is in the execution: the astounding, raw, bare, beautiful performances by the huge cast, and even more, the amazing immersive recreation of the show under the creative team led by the frightening-in-all-the-best-ways mind of director Eric Ankrim.

I loved IDIOT on Broadway (twice, once with Billie Joe as St. Jimmy) and liked it a lot on tour. But the traditional staging, with its fourth-wall separation and Broadway-gypsies-go-pogo choreography, felt very much like a show around the music. The ArtsWest production takes no prisoners in its staging, including gutting the space to create three immersive tracks with off-stage action. I've seen immersive productions before, but they were usually more of the "sitting in a supper club or disco as the show unrolls around you" form of GREAT COMET and HERE LIES LOVE or the "walk through the mystery house from room to room" style. None of them prepared me for the complex yet totally involving Build-Your-Own-Adventure-on-steroids nature of this production. 

It's hard to say where staging and direction ends and choreography begins - the action is equal parts tantrum, ballet, and 3D chess, with everything moving organically and perfectly. I saw it last week in one of the immersive tribes (the military tribe that tells Tunny's story more deeply), and today observationally from one of the seats left intact in the rebuilt maze of ramps, stairs, and platforms; each experience enhances the other. In fact, it's a testimony to the thoroughness of the vision that in several places the experience of the immersive tribes actually enhances the observational track: the moment, for instance, when Johnny, walking with his guitar, sings his loneliness in a crowd and by himself in BOULEVARD OF BROKEN DREAMS, is passed by two of the tribes, one to his left, one to his right, one moving forward, one moving back, and leaving him by himself is brilliantly powerful.

Not the least of the brilliance of the staging is keeping over thirty people - cast, ensemble, tribe guides - in motion and in the service of the work, all shining for their moments. The leads are stunningly good. Frederick Hagreen has added power and grace to the ensembles of many productions in the past few years, but has recently been seen front-and-center far more, and with his turn as Freddy Mercury with Seattle Men's Chorus, his terrific Bobby Strong in SMT's URINETOWN, and now as Johnny, his light burns ten times as bright. Michael Coale Grey is new to Seattle, but his rich résumé at great theatres like Goodspeed and Paper Mill is enhanced further by his sensitive and richly-sung turn as Will. Justin Huertas shows his breadth in every outing, and delivers a sharp and strongly sung Tunny, fueled by rage and doubt, never too broad and never too small. Trent Moury is one of the latest young actors to grow out of youth theatre into mainstage roles - Bernstein in last season's ArtsWest production of DOGFIGHT, Billy Bigelow in the 5th's Rising Star CAROUSEL - but the seductiveness of his St. Jimmy, the serpent in the garden of Johnny's mind, is an adult role in a way I've never seen him play, and perfectly there. 

The women's roles may not be as central, but they are played stunningly too. That Kirsten DeLohr Helland is electrifying as Whatsername is no surprise (nor is the fact that her insane range will take her from IDIOT to the most delicate and glowing Maria I've ever beheld in the 5th's SOUND OF MUSIC later this year) - but her voice, full of raging belt and hovering pain of love, is a fresh experience every time. Jimmie Herrod's performance of Extraordinary Girl is, well, extraordinary: so perfect and on-target that it never occurs for a second to call it a drag turn; rather, it is just a perfect pairing of a performer (and his voice) with a role. And Chelsea LaValley, whom I enjoyed greatly in stageRIGHT's terrific FLOYD COLLINS, plays the somewhat thankless role of Heather with a great edge, a great vulnerability, and a great sound.

Singling out others in the ensemble is almost impossible - everyone has their moments to shine, and everyone makes everyone else shine brighter. So if I give shouts-out to the always-wonderful Ryan McCabe, the stunningly powerful Ann Cornelius, and the astounding physical-performing presence that is Jordan Taylor, it in no way diminishes my admiration for any member of the company - or, even more, for the company as a whole, one huge tribe that will probably always have this as one highlight of their ongoing lives in the theatre (which, given that some members of the cast are still in high school, should go on to many, many more triumphs).

That the show requires not only Ankrim's powerful directing hand but three choreographers is not surprising, considering the amount of movement and the number of spaces in which it goes on at once. It's a testimony to the organic creation that it is hard to say where Ankrim's, Trina Mills', Gabe Corey's, and Shadou Mintone's contributions begin and end (and to the fortitude of Production Stage Manager Melanie LeDuc that all of the moving parts move so seamlessly). 

On the musical front, performing a genuine rock score in a theatre context and not making it sound like an imitation is a hell of a challenge, one to which both R.J. Tancioco and Chris Ranney have risen multiple times before, and this is as good as any other they've done. (The superb orchestrations by Tom Kitt don't hurt - there is a special warm place in my soul for Tom Kitt strings.) 

The rest of the design team are to be lauded for being willing to take every chance in this journey - and none more so than ArtsWest Artistic Director Mathew Wright. ArtsWest had grown stodgy, I think, in recent years - to the extent that I canceled my subscription before last season - but the repertory choices of last season's acting Artistic Director, Annie Lareau, and especially Mat's for this season bring the theatre back to the forefront of where hot young theatre is happening in town. The organization's big bet on this production is evidenced in the gutting and reconstruction of the house to support the immersive staging - demonstrating that the theatre building itself is a microcosm of the dynamic, risk-taking institution.

AMERICAN IDIOT ends with the beautiful "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)" - performed with the cast in and around the audience, and gathered, heart-circle-like, center stage. It repeats: "It's something unpredictable but in the end is right / I hope you had the time of your life."

I did. You will.

Review: JACQUES BREL IS ALIVE AND WELL & LIVING IN PARIS at ACT

JACQUES BREL IS ALIVE AND WELL & LIVING IN PARIS
Music by Jacques Brel
Production Conception, English Lyrics and Additional Material by Eric Blau and Mort Shuman
Through May 17 2015
A Co-Production of ACT -- A Contemporary Theatre  and The 5th Avenue Theatre
at ACT
700 Union Street
Seattle WA 98101-4037
www.5thavenue.org / www.acttheatre.org
The common wisdom about BREL (so shortened to suit my laziness - the artist himself will be named in mixed-case as "Brel") is that it is a revue, a show without a story.

The common wisdom ain't so wise.

Director David Armstrong understands that the key to BREL -- and to Brel -- is that this is not a show without a story, but rather, a show with over two dozen stories. Brel's work here is like a finely crafted volume of short stories, with sharply drawn characters and vignettes not surrounding the songs as in a book musical, but within each of them. And, in support of that idea, he has cast a troupe of five performers (well, six, actually -- with one mid-run swap) who are terrific singers, but even more, wonderful actors who know they are creating characters and telling stories in song.

Brel, a Belgian singer-songwriter whose career spanned almost precisely the middle half of the 20th century, had terrific impact by himself on the tradition of the chanson and on European cabaret. But even more, many of his songs became more familiar to us when performed, especially in English translation, by a long roster of performers including (taking a deep breath here) Karen Akers, Marc Almond, Joan Baez, Theodore Bikel, David Bowie, Glen Campbell, Belinda Carlisle, Ray Charles, Judy Collins, John Denver, Neil Diamond, Marlene Dietrich, Céline Dion, Sheena Easton, Marianne Faithfull... and that just takes us through the F's - for a more complete list, check the Wikipedia article. He was cited as a significant influence by many writers including  Bowie, Alex Harvey, Leonard Cohen, Almond and Rod McKuen -- the last having written some of the most frequently performed, but sometimes a bit too free-wheeling, English translations of his work.

Brel's work is rich in story but also in character, in sentiment but also in irony and sarcasm. (In fact, some interpretations by other translators who are tone-deaf to the searing sarcasm of Brel's lyrics miss the mark by being sincere to the point of being maudlin -- it's hard to believe that the much-derided "Seasons in the Sun" could have come from Brel's "Le Moribond" until you see that the original lyrics mock the missed lover and friend for the affair with which they betrayed the dying singer.) And Armstrong and the cast evoke that edge -- in Cayman Ilika's initially shy, but ultimately anything but shy, turn in "Timid Frieda" to Timothy McCuen Piggee's review of his own mourners from his bier in "Funeral Tango" to Eric Ankrim's and the other male singer's (Louis Hobson in the first half of the run, followed by Matt Owen) turn on "Girls and Dogs," to name three examples.

When you have songs that are themselves rich miniature plays or monologues, you need more than fine singers - you need terrific actors who are fine singers. Such is the BREL cast -- performers who are at home on the musical as well as non-musical stage, with a range of unique voices. The manic, almost explosive energy of Eric Ankrim serves as a perfect bookend in the second half of the run to the sensitive but joyous edge of Matt Owen. While Louis Hobson is a fine singer and actor, Owen found both harder edges and broader humor in the songs - while Hobson's "Fanette" was mostly wistful, Owen found an underlying bitterness to it. Piggee brings to his songs the extravagance and depth of character he brought to his performance as Belize in Intiman's ANGELS IN AMERICA last summer, but does so with several characters in three-minute chunks, from the corpse in "Funeral Tango" to  the sailor in "Amsterdam." 

The contrast is the strongest between the equally wonderful female voices - Ilika's sweetness, sadness, and rage illuminate every song she is in, and unique style and sound of Kendra Kassebaum makes "I Loved" and "My Death" wondrous, but nowhere near as much so as one of Brel's most familiar tunes, Ne Me Quitte Pas." (You may be familiar with Rod McKuen's oft-recorded version, "If You Go Away"; to me, that translation buries much of the genuine desperation in treacle, so the choice to make it the only song that is sung in the original and perfectly-accented French was a great one.)

The convergence of direction, performance, and stagecraft enhance the production in many ways - from the minimalist platform-and-elevator set, to the sparing but on-the-mark use of projections, to great costuming choices that add to the narrative and thematic richness -- from "Timid Frieda's" on-stage change, to the sport-on-sport costumes in "The Bulls" that combine football, bullfighting and, ultimately, combat into one crowd-fueled jingoistic binge, to the UN-costuming that strips the emotion of "Next" bare. This is a production that is full of great choices.

Staging twenty-six Brel songs end-to-end runs the risk of suggesting repetition, and there are places that the similarities between songs are strong -- especially between the full-company opener, "Marathon," and the penultimate "Carousel." But that sense is overcome by the strength of the numbers and the performances. The show ends with the full company performing what is probably Brel's most-sung piece, and the most anthemic and non-narrative, "If We Only Have Love"; after the dark and bitter and biting journeys we take earlier in the show, it is uplifting and cathartic, a beautiful way to leave the theatre.

BREL is a show I've hoped to see for more than half my life. I am not disappointed.

Review: LIZARD BOY at Seattle Rep

LIZARD BOY

By Justin Huertas

Through May 2 2015

Seattle Repertory Theatre

155 Mercer Street
Seattle, WA 98109 

www.seattlerep.org

(I should note up front that I can't make it through this review keeping to the convention of last-name references; the cast and director are theatre artists I know and whose work I care about greatly, and that last-name thing was feeling incredibly stilted as I wrote it, so it's first names from here on out.)

"Sit down and write about LIZARD BOY while it's fresh," I tell myself. And then, I think: LIZARD BOY will never be anything but fresh. It's handmade without being twee, authentic without being emo.

Set in what Marvel Comics famously called "the world outside your window" -- a Seattle of Dick's burgers but also of dragons emerging from Mount St. Helens, of Grindr hookups but also of super-powers -- the show is fantastic without ever being artificial, larger than life but also exactly the size and shape of real life.

Justin was commissioned by the Rep to keep diaries while playing cello on the SPRING AWAKENING National Tour, with the goal of having them turned into a play. The heart of the show evolved from a tour diary to a coming-out tale, then (as the author describes it) "a coming-out tale, but with super-powers." Through readings and workshops to its current fully-staged form, LIZARD BOY has grown bigger and richer and deeper without ever giving up an iota of its joyous hand-crafted spirit.

Trevor, the lizard boy of the title, was one of a half-dozen children trapped on a Tacoma playground during the battle during which the dragon was battled to its death. Its blood conferred super-powers on five of the six -- but left Trevor only with green, scaly skin. Often shunned but occasionally fetishized as exotic, Trevor has resigned himself to a life alone with his sketchpad, his music, and his dreams -- leaving his refuge only one night a year, for the MonsterFest that commemorates the night of the dragon, when revelers dress up and he can be taken for one boy in a lizard costume among thousands.

The search for his date of the previous year on Grindr yields an awkward contact, and an even more contact not-quite-hookup, with William A. Williams' Cary ("like Sissy Spacek?" "No, Cary Grant."), and through a web of crossed signals and horny sweetness, they approach, withdraw, and end up heading to the Crocodile to hear the singer Siren (Kirsten deLohr Helland), who Trevor recognizes on the cover of The Stranger as the girl of his dreams -- literally -- and the girl in his sketchbook. 

It's not giving away much of the plot to reveal that Siren, as well, was one of the Point Defiance playground kids, or that her powers and agenda move the plot to the awesome battle that ensues. In the readings and workshops, the script at this point simply said, "An awesome battle ensues" -- it is a testament to the superb staging instincts of director Brandon Ivie, and the sheer presence and power of the cast, that the battle covers the entire surface and every level of the stage, and no performers or musical instruments are harmed in the process.

Oh, did I fail to mention the musical instruments? From the moment you enter the theatre, the stage is pretty much covered in the objects -- "instruments" is much too narrow -- that will provide the score. Everyone is not only acting and singing but also playing -- Justin mainly on cello, Bill mainly on guitar, Kirsten on everything from melodica to piano to ukulele, with kazoos and random percussion objects being played by all (including Bill's beatboxing), and instruments smoothly being moved from stage to hand to hand. It's not a dance show, but the flow of the instruments is pure choreography.

I know I haven't mentioned the songs yet -- only because I can't say it all at once. Justin has crafted songs that lay the characters bare, move the plot to places it couldn't go in any other way, and heighten the emotional ante, all at once. They're great pop songs; they're great rock songs; they're great theatre songs. Justin's and Bill's terrific voices more than serve them well, and Kirsten's astounding instrument (as in many shows before) is a jaw-droppingly powerful wonder. The songs have one of the most important characteristics of great theatre songs: they are at once specific to the plot and universal to anyone in a situation anything like it. (Granted, without the exact complications of super-powers and dragon blood.)

In his career so far, Brandon Ivie has worked on some very traditional types of shows (A CHRISTMAS STORY, CATCH ME IF YOU CAN); but his passion (as reflected in the NEW VOICES concert series he has conceived and put together) has clearly been for newer-style, more "fringe-y" works, such as NEXT TO NORMAL and JASPER IN DEADLAND, the latter his New York directing debut that is about to be re-staged at the 5th Avenue. He has helped this cast of friends fully realize the work with love and skill.

It's always a little bit of a red flag when people say things like "you've never seen anything like it" or "it's unlike anything else" -- it always makes me want to ask, "Yes, but how good is it?!" So I won't go there, because LIZARD BOY doesn't need me to do so -- it's an awesome, real, pure adventure in the theatre.

But I will say this: one of the best and rarest experiences in the theatre is the feeling that, even through years of craft, weeks of rehearsal, precise direction, and performance after performance, you are watching a bunch of friends creating something new every time. Like Trevor, you're seeing the work of an awesome man but also a boy. In our being privileged to share in that act of creation, we remember the best child-like reason that we call them "play."

Review: NEXT TO NORMAL at SecondStory Repertory

NEXT TO NORMAL

Music by Tom Kitt
Book and Lyrics by Brian Yorkey

Through Mar. 15, 2015

SecondStory Repertory

16587 NE 74th St
Redmond, WA 98052 

www.secondstoryrep.org

Everybody has a blind spot or two. Or, at least, others think they do. I have a friend who writes about theatre both professionally and recreationally, and who thinks that NEXT TO NORMAL is The Worst Musical Ever and Everything That's Wrong With Musical Theatre Today.

This review is for the rest of you...

OK, I'll grant that NEXT TO NORMAL is not an easy show - not easy to sing or act, not easy for directors and actors to find the characters, not easy to sit through in the light-entertainment sense. It raises serious questions about sanity and insanity, visibility and invisibility, memory and forgetting. But the journey is, I think, rich in rewards. And this production, especially, finds substance I've never seen in any other production, from coast to coast.

We meet the Goodmans - OK, maybe a little obvious - on a morning like any other. For them, anyway. It becomes clear pretty quickly that the world of wife and mother Diana might be somewhat off-kilter, as her sandwich-making turns compulsive. And the Goodmans themselves - Diana, husband Dan, daughter Natalie, son Gabe - may not all be who or what they seem, either. Gabe's overpowering influence on his mother and nobody else, Natalie's frustration at disconnection from her mother, Dan's struggling to hold the family together as Diana melts down and passes from therapist to (rock-star) therapist... yield a family dynamic (capped with the addition of Henry, Natalie's sweet stoner of a suitor) that is far from (even next to) normal, but also, familiar in many ways.

When you ask people what N2N is about, the short answer is often "electroconvulsive (shock) therapy" - that certainly is an important element, reflected in the original developmental title of the show (and title of one of the songs still), FEELING ELECTRIC. But Diana's journey to, and through, ECT is just the catalyst for the complex dance that the Goodmans will do, on their way to negotiated survival, and spiritual light.

I've always been a little disappointed with some of the character dynamics of the show - every production I've seen before seemed to reflect the natures of the characters too much in the dynamics of the performances as well. It's always seemed that Diana and Natalie had the highs and lows, Gabe a few mysteriously explosive and seductively sweet turns, and Dan and Henry left to be the stable, reassuring, but somewhat wooden pillars on which the production rests. This is the first production that, to me, really let the male partners, and especially Dan, be full and equal emotional forces in the show.

Diana and Natalie have always been strong diva roles, and Ann Cornelius and Regan Morris are wonderful in them. Cornelius, a performer new to Seattle but from whom I hope to see lots more, carries the bombast of the highs and lows of Diana perfectly, and also, knows when to speak, even near-whisper, a line or phrase to make it really hit home. There were many places her vocal performance was reminiscent of Alice Ripley's at her best in the show, paired with some surprisingly soft, almost painfully quiet readings. And Morris is spot-on as Natalie: hurt, angry, giddy, controlled, out of control... and always pitch-perfect both vocally and as a scene companion for each of the others.

The revelation in this production, though, as I said, are the male partners, Ryan McCabe as Dan and Christopher Ellis as Henry. McCabe has been a mainstay of Seattle theatre for as long as I've been here, but in his Dan, he reaches new levels of both personal accomplishment and character complexity. Having played the supporting roles of the doctors in Balagan's fine production a couple of years ago, he truly finds the soul and fragility of Dan Goodman, husband and father, trying to balance past and future while being buffeted by the world of now. He sings and acts it with subtlety, vulnerability, and presence beyond anything I've ever seen in the role, and beyond anything I've ever seen from him. His performances in KISS OF THE SPIDER-WOMAN, [title of show] (also directed by Jeff Orton), and many more shows were terrific, but this is an entirely new and brilliant level. Ellis, too, finds both a naivete in Henry, and a well-defined stoner nature, that raises the character to an equal to Natalie, rather than just a foil for her. 

It's a pleasure to see the male roles so in balance with the women - something that is to the credit of each of the actors, but also, to the directing chops of Jeff Orton. By letting smaller moments be smaller but not less crystalline-sharp, he makes room for the bigger ones to hit hard.

You may notice that I didn't mention Nicholas Tarabini's performance as Gabe. I mean that as no slight to him - it's simply an issue of timing. The performance I attended is one of those that every small company fears: the sudden injury or illness without an understudy. Apparently, Tarabini has been singing his heart out in the role; unfortunately, he's also sung his voice out, resulting in total laryngitis for tonight's performance. Director Orton made a bold call, and one that is especially suited (without giving too much plot away here) to the character of Gabe: to have Tarabini act the role silently, with the superb Kody Bringman - who played the role in the Balagan production, and has been the go-to guy for sensitive bad boys from Gabe to Andrew Jackson (of BLOODY BLOODY fame) to Eddie in ArtsWest's DOGFIGHT - singing it from a clearly visible spot upstage. The effect was perfect for the character, and the singing superb as always. If you see the show next weekend, Tarabini should be back in his full power - though power was not something his silent, seductive, muscular on-stage presence lacked at all.

Aaron Howland had the challenge, not always met by others, of making the two doctors, Fine and Madden, seem thoroughly different while frustratingly the same. To do so, his Doctor Fine may have been on the tamer side of those I've seen, but that left room for contrast with the "rock-star" Madden, who gets far more stage time. 

If I have any reservations about the production, they are all imposed by SSR's performance space. The sound, especially with regard to mixing and clarity, can be a challenge; occasionally vocals were swallowed by the instruments. Even in the band, the mix was problematic: one of the most distinguishing characteristics of Tom Kitt scores and orchestration is the mix of powerful rock sounds with lush strings, and it was often difficult to pick out the violin and cello, or to hear them as more than thin buzzing. 

The shallowness of both the floor-level stage and the audience seating rake meant that it was often difficult to see much more than upper bodies through the heads in the row ahead, and that limited the impact of the physicality of the show in places, including the sandwich-making frenzy of the opening scene. Also, the use of the two-level set with the house frame and pitched roof line (as compared to Balagan's flat deep stage and Broadway's and the tour's three-level set) meant that some locations that were not in the house, such as the music practice room, seemed to be upstairs in the house. 

And I wish that for the end of "Light," there was lots more light.

But these are quibbles; the show is rich with fine performances and thoughtful directorial choices that make it a thrilling emotional roller coaster ride and a spectacularly rewarding two-and-a-half hours. See it.

If you're not my theatre-writer friend, that is.

Review: tick, tick... BOOM! at SecondStory Repertory

tick, tick... BOOM!

Book, Music and Lyrics by Jonathan Larson

David Auburn, Script Consultant

Through Nov. 22, 2014

SecondStory Repertory

16587 NE 74th St
Redmond, WA 98052 

www.secondstoryrep.org

I promised myself that when I write an actual review - not a commentary inspired by a show, but a full-on review - I'd do it while there's still time to see the show. Technically, that's true, in this case, but only by the tiniest of margins - the show closes tomorrow. If you can get a ticket, go. If that wasn't clear enough: GO.

If you know Jonathan Larson's work at all, I'll give 1000:1 odds that it's for RENT, his multi-Tony-award-winning musical that could definitely fill the role mentioned in this show by Larson as "HAIR for the 90s." A well-known part of the legend of RENT is that Larson never lived to see it performed before an audience, dying at 35 of an aortic dissection on the morning of the first off-Broadway preview. But the other work of his that has survived and is occasionally, though I think too rarely, performed is this one.

Larson struggled with a musical called SUPERBIA through the 80s. The show, an unauthorized rock musical adaptation of Orwell's NINETEEN EIGHTY-FOUR, won awards and industry recognition for Larson during its development, but was never fully produced; to deal with the disappointment and push through, Larson put together a "rock monologue" about his experience and his life through the period; originally titled 30/90 (which remains as the title of the opening song), it was eventually renamed tick,tick... BOOM! Performances of this show made producing connections for Larson that helped lead to the development of RENT. After Larson's death, David Auburn (who wrote and won the drama Pulitzer for PROOF) restructured it into a three-performer work, as it is now performed, and Stephen Oremus arranged the vocals and orchestrated the songs.

I've been hoping to see a production of the show for years, but have always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time for it. Now that I've seen it, I understand what everyone has seen in it. In many ways, some blatant and some more subtle, it foreshadows many of the themes and techniques of RENT. But it's a more intimate and personal show - fitting, as it's autobiography. And because it's a musical about making musicals, it deals much more directly with that creative process. Larson's worship of (whisper) Stephen Sondheim is a key element, not just in the plot, but in some musical touches; the song "Sunday" is a spin on the song from SUNDAY IN THE PARK WITH GEORGE, only instead of being about art, it's about... brunch. Starving artists need day jobs, and like many others, Larson's was as a waiter. (In many ways, Roger's and Mark's creative advances and obstacles in RENT are metaphorical stand-ins for Larson's own.)

As I said, many of the same concerns and themes are here - the boho life vs. selling out, balancing love and art, and the specter of AIDS. It's interesting how the world changes in five years, too: in 1990 in this show, when AIDS is mentioned - no, not even mentioned, but talked around - it is as a death sentence; while there is some of that in Roger's need to write "one last song" and in, well, Angel's death, there is also a survivor's spirit and, along with it, the "AZT break."

So, about this production. A three-person show with this much music needs strong singers; a three-person show with this much substance needs strong actors. None of the cast have much if any Seattle stage work on their résumés, but I hope that's going to change as a result of this show. Adam Minton, as Jon, rocks out when he can, sweetly sings his heart (and yours) out when he needs to, and is utterly believable in the outsized role. Ryan Lile (Michael and others) and Faith Howes (Susan and others) hit the same marks consistently. And Ben Bentler and the rest of the band are with them every step of the way.

One of the most exciting things about SecondStory is its effort to let some of the town's strongest performers strut their directing stuff. Last season, Billie Wildrick took on KISS OF THE SPIDER-WOMAN and delivered a production that made the show feel as big as it had in houses much larger than SSR's 78 seats, but benefited from its claustrophobia in its prison setting, while making character dynamics stronger and clearer than I'd seen in those MainStage versions. Here, Jeff Orton takes his turn. As a performer, Orton's name is at the top of my list when I'm asked to word-associate "fearless" - killer turkey, anyone? Jewish Christian boyband singer? - and his sure directing hand is seen here as well. (A few years back, he also staged a terrific [title of show] for Balagan.) The show is well-staged, kinetic without burying the soul in motion. Orton is directing NEXT TO NORMAL for SSR in February and March, and I'm looking forward to his take on that monster.

The show itself, and the production, are enough of a reason to see it tomorrow. The unfortunate fact that chances to see it are so rare should push you even harder.

Again: GO.

On WITNESS UGANDA, PrEP, and Accidental Activism

One of my friends told me he thought this blog was just going to be a pile of theatre reviews, and putting the word "sex" in the title was just a cynical way of lining up readers. This post puts the lie to that - it starts out being about theatre, yes (though it's not really a review), and a key theme it picks up takes us over to the "sex and longing" side of the world.

Tonight, INTIMAN Theatre Festival presented a work called WITNESS UGANDA. INTIMAN was, for years, a major year-round theatre company in Seattle; several years ago, it collapsed under its debt and cancelled its in-progress season, and pulled back to reorganize, tackle its debt, and rethink its mission. The then-Assistant Artistic Director, Andrew Russell, who subsequently became Producing Artistic Director, led the rethinking of INTIMAN as a summer festival. In each of its first two seasons, they produced four works in repertory, including both plays and musicals, both new works and fresh thought on old ones. (A few examples were a staging of LYSISTRATA set in an American military base in Afghanistan; Dan Savage's MIRACLE! - which answered the question "what if Helen Keller was a 1990s Seattle drag queen?"; and the new musical STU FOR SILVERTON, about the first trans mayor in the United States - as far as we know, anyway.) This summer, the festival featured ANGELS IN AMERICA, as well as several new and existing works that supported its themes. The last production of this year - I'm starting to think of it as a "stealth" year-round operation - was tonight's offering.

WITNESS UGANDA is a work in development by Matt Gould and Griffin Matthews. Originating in Matthews' six-week volunteer education work in Uganda a decade ago, it follows his personal journey (and that of Gould, his partner in theatre and life), as well as the project it grew into, the Uganda Project, which has taken about a dozen young people who wanted to be able to afford an education through high school, university, and into their working lives. The full production, with a cast of 14 and an orchestra of 9, is slated for Broadway in the fall of 2015. Tonight's performance was not a performance of it, but something else entirely: part tasting menu, part duologue, part fundraiser, part barn-raiser, totally inspiring. (Read here for more on the show, and here for more on the Project. And if they come to your town before the show hits Broadway, see them.)

Of course, the Project is the focus, but not the whole experience, because the experience of two gay Americans relating to Uganda in the era of the Anti-Homosexuality Law is not just about their work, but also, about themselves, their souls, their very existence. The fact that they are gay has become a challenge to their work, and potentially, to not only their freedom and their lives, but to those of the students as well, given that the penalties under the now-overruled-but-potentially-resubmitted Law affect not only homosexuals, but anyone who knows one and fails to report them. Matt and Griffin set out to be artists, educators, and sponsors - the circumstances made them activists as well, in a way they never intended. And as the students dealt with the knowledge and its potential consequences, it did the same to them. If brought the whole family, to varying degrees, into "accidental activism."

Cut to: my world today. (Here's where the "sex" part starts, sort of.)

Since August of 2012 - about three weeks after interim guidelines for its use were issued - I've been participating in an HIV prevention strategy called "pre-exposure prophylaxis," or PrEP. Once my negative HIV status was confirmed by the latest tests, I began to take a single pill of Truvada daily. While HIV treatment regimens today use three-drug combinations, two of the drugs most commonly prescribed are also available in a single two-drug pill. Many studies have shown that PrEP can reduce the risk of HIV infection dramatically when taken daily (and is tolerant of missing the occasional dose) - in one recent study, not a single infection occurred in anyone taking the pill at least four times a week, regardless of how much or how little they used condoms.

The idea of an HIV prevention strategy that is anything other than the "use a condom 100% of the time" message that has lost effectiveness as HIV itself lost the edge of terror is upsetting to many people. Ironically, while many of my straight friends have said they found it to be a no-brainer - including my fourth-year med student niece, who said, "well, there's no vaccine, and no cure, so you should protect yourself as best you can" - the pushback in parts of the gay community has been vicious, labeling people everything from selfish hedonists to pawns of Big Pharma. It's far from ubiquitous, but the anti-PrEP drumbeat has been heard in corners of the prevention community, and most recently, from a certain out-of-the-closet movie star.

Now, when I started on PrEP, I didn't say, "Hey, self, here's a cause you can comment on endlessly everywhere from Facebook to The Huffington Post and bang your head on your desk multiple times a day." Really, that wasn't my plan. I was just going to take my pill every day and protect my health. 

It's not like I'm uncomfortable being an activist. I worked on non-discrimination and/or domestic partner benefits policies at three Silicon Valley companies; I was a founding member of Dartmouth College's first sorta-LGBT-student-association, Students for Social Alternatives; I participated in Kiss-Ins and Queer Stereotypes on Parade demonstrations at shopping malls with Queer Nation San Francisco; I marched through the streets of San Francisco and helped occupy the Bay Bridge in protest of the first Gulf War (and, to bring back the "sex" theme while staying PG, let's just say that a couple of us exuberantly burned off the adrenaline high in a private place between the time we ordered post-protest dinner and the time it arrived - ah, dear, departed, and fiercely ironically named Baghdad Cafe!)... But being labeled a PrEP activist was never the plan. Yet, well, here we are.

What's the take-away? Now, I'm by no means equating putting your life and freedom on the line with commenting on blogs. But... Sometimes, just doing what you have to is activism, whether you mean it to be or not.

Review: DOGFIGHT at ArtsWest

DOGFIGHT

Music and Lyrics by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul

Book by Peter Duchan

Through Nov. 22, 2014

ArtsWest Playhouse and Gallery

4711 California Ave SW 

Seattle, WA 98116

www.artswest.org

There have been some terrific musicals created in the last few years. (And a lot of less terrific ones.) But in most cases, it has been a case of a good score, a good book, good direction, good choreography, and a good cast making a whole that exceeds each of its parts.

And, yes, I think DOGFIGHT is all that. But it also is something far too rare these days: a terrific score, one that I can play over and over again, one that earworms me and won't let go. One that makes me glad that the songwriters, Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, may finally be starting to age out of the "so talented at that age I hate them" stage.

The musical is inspired by the superb River Phoenix/Lili Taylor film, written by Bob Comfort and directed by Nancy Savoca, that embodied the optimism of the early incursion in Viet Nam, and the testosterone-poisoned culture that prepared young Marines to go overseas to win the hearts and minds of the people - before LBJ and the machines of war decided that, in order to win their hearts and minds, you'd need to grab them a little lower. Peter Duchan's book captures the heart of the story, and forms a strong frame on which to hang the songs.

The dogfight of the title is a real contest, part of the system that was employed to enable young Marines to depersonalize women, so that enemy women were seen more as "gooks" and less as just like their mothers and sisters. Under the pretext of a date, the men were to bring the ugliest women they could find to a party, at which the one who brought the ugliest would win a cash prize.

Eddie Birdlace - one of the "Three Bees" of his unit, along with Boland and Bernstein - ducks into a diner on the evening of the dogfight (the night before they ship out), and meets Rose Feeny, an innocent, plain waitress who is a beginning songwriter of the Guthrie/Dylan/Baez tradition. He convinces her to go with him, and things go well for the couple - awkwardly well, but well - until Rose finds out what is really going on. 

Through the dogfight, its aftermath, and their subsequent discovery of each other's hidden aspects - Eddie finding Rose's strength and beauty, Rose cutting through to the sensitive man-boy underneath Eddie's bluster - every move is sharp, clear, finely drawn, and real.

The brilliance of the score, to me, is the fact that it manages to be both muscular and sensitive, in a way that few others have managed so well. There are lots of "drag your husbands with you" musicals, of course, as the stereotype goes. And there's a much smaller list of "musicals guys like too" - mostly jukebox shows, like JERSEY BOYS and ROCK OF AGES. (Gay audiences, this paragraph is mostly not for you - we have a whole different set of stereotypes about musicals and our tribe to engage.) But there are very few musicals that manage to have big, blustery, jockish numbers and finely-drawn, sensitive ones too, and to keep them in such balance, across a huge dynamic range. DOGFIGHT's score has taken some heat for this, for not being able to make up its mind. But I think this is its greatest strength: being able to depict the forces churning inside its characters in the variety of its music. 

Eddie's songs (some with the other Marines) range from the bluster of "Some Kinda Time" and "Hometown Hero's Ticker Tape Parade" to the pain of "Come Back"; Rose's, from the rage of "Dogfight" to the sweet strength of "Before It's Over." And if WICKED's "Defying Gravity" is The Audition Song for a generation of belters, so should "Pretty Funny" be the "she can sing AND act" audition song. (And the number of "Pretty Funny" recordings on YouTube, from professionals to students performing, make it look Pretty Certain.) For its characters, torn between who they want to be and who the world tells them to be, the score shows their fullness in a way that reminds me of nothing so much as WEST SIDE STORY's.

This is by no means an easy piece to play, to choreograph, or to stage. Sometimes, as many of you probably do too, I like to play The Casting Game: what Seattle actor would I cast in a role if it were produced here? When I first considered DOGFIGHT, I must admit, while there are lots of young singing actors more than up to the role, I would have bet two dollars against your one that Eddie would be played by Kody Bringman - and you'd have won if you took me up on it. Bringman brought the same audacity to Eddie that he did to Andrew Jackson on the same stage in BLOODY, BLOODY a couple of years back. But I was reminded even more of his performance in the staging of NEXT TO NORMAL co-produced by Contemporary Classics and the dear, departed Balagan. (This production of DOGFIGHT was to be an ArtsWest/Balagan co-production until Balagan's sudden disbanding left it fully in ArtsWest's hands.) In both roles, there's a challenging mix of aggression and almost childlike sensitivity, and Bringman nails it.

For Rose, there were lots of great candidates - but the ranks of Seattle's theatre community is frequently blessed with new talent, and in this case, Devon Busswood's Seattle debut is stunningly good, strong and sensitive. 

The rest of the company is a mix of new Seattleites, folks who have played on many of our stages, and recent graduates from Village Theatre Kidstage and other youth theatre programs. The energy of their performances is exceeded only by their power and range. To single one out, as always, in a couple of finely-drawn but larger-than-life character spots, Kirsten deLohr Helland delivers another of those performances which, no matter what else is happening on stage, you'd be a fool not to keep one eye on her.

One of the great strengths of the original off-Broadway production of DOGFIGHT - and there were many - was the incredible, hyperkinetic, hyper-muscular choreography by Christopher Gatelli. Trina Mills more than had her work cut out for her here, and the challenge was raised even higher by ArtsWest's smallish floor-level stage. She more than rises to it, using the intimacy of the stage to make the Marines' athletics more in-your-face, the party dancing even more engaging.

The dynamic range of DOGFIGHT could intimidate a lesser director. But if his work here is any indication of what we can look forward to seeing from Mat Wright, ArtsWest is in good hands with his talents as both director and Artistic Director. He brought together a terrific cast and crew, and went far beyond the cat-herding mode here to bring together a wonderfully unified production, supported by some of Seattle's finest theatre crafts and creative people: Robert Aguilar on lighting design, Ahren Luhrmann on scenic design. Chelsea Cook on costume design, Michael Connolly on sound design, Chris DiStefano on music direction. In some ways, their jobs are best done when you don't notice them; but they were also most noticeable when they shone, the best time for it to be so.

A big shout out to stage manager Dani Franich, whose all-too-brief tenure as Balagan's executive director was notable for putting this project together (with Wright) as a co-production; staying with it when ArtsWest picked up the reins, she brings to it her great strength at keeping it all flowing. (On the night we saw it, she and the cast and crew had to face one of the greatest terrors of the modern theatre, a power glitch - luckily, the timing was such that the leads could continue performing without mikes, and the lights and sound came back just in time for the next number. Still, one of those stories that are perfect over drinks. And require them.)

When I praise DOGFIGHT's score, it is not to diminish the strength of any other part of the show. But in the last couple of years, the number of great new scores can be counted on a single hand (Jason Robert Brown's score for THE BRIDGES OF MADISON COUNTY comes immediately to mind, and then, well, give me a few minutes to think about it), and this is one of them. 

A great score, in service to a very good story, beautifully realized. Anyone who thinks that musicals are Just Not For Them (and especially, Not For Guys Like Them), as well as anyone who thinks They Just Don't Write Them Like That Any More, should see it. And so should the rest of you.