A trip to the theatre is a therapeutic experience; transporting someone to a new and different world can ease anyone’s worrisome mind. Likewise, the prospect of a productive and insightful rehearsal can invigorate any theatre practitioner. On the other hand, horror creates a different effect: unknown entities that go bump in the night can stir up feelings of suspense, unease, and wariness. Indeed, combining these two forms of storytelling makes for an interesting challenge.

Keegan Theatre’s The Woman in Black not only celebrates this challenge, but overcomes it with enthusiasm. With two superb performances by Matthew Keenan and Robert Leembruggen, they production embraces the play’s innovative style. Furthermore, the haunting light and sound designs by Michael Innocenti and Tony Angelini, respectively, make for a spine-tingling and sometimes whimsical adventure that will leave you begging for more.

Stephen Mallatratt’s play is based on Susan Hill’s 1983 gothic novella of the same name, premiering in 1987 to wild appraisal. Mallatratt’s book follows a play-with-a-play narrative. It revolves around Mr. Arthur Kipps (Leembruggen), a solicitor who wishes to tell to his family and friends the tale of his experience in Crythin Gifford, a small market town, where he was sent to sift through the various documents of the late Alice Drablow in her home, Eel Marsh House. In Mrs. Drablow’s home, Kipps experienced hauntings by a mysterious entity simply monikered “the woman in black.” In doing describing the accounts, Kipps hopes to lay his fears of the ghost to rest.

At his aid is an actor (Keenan), hired by Kipps to make his delivery of the tale a little less tedious. The play begins with a heated argument — the actor believes that Kipps’ 5-hour ‘line-reading’ will leave his audience in tears (as the actor constantly assures his pupil, “we’ll make an Irving of you yet!”). Kipps eventually allows the actor to play his younger self while he takes on the roles of the various country folk he encountered upon visiting Eel Marsh House.

The energy between the two actors is positively delightful. Leembruggen’s take on the timid and fearful Mr. Kipps contrasts beautifully with Keenan’s sardonic performance as the actor. They are both accomplished actors and masterful storytellers. Keenan is as charming as he is convincing when playing Kipps’ younger self. He negotiates seamlessly between his role as the young solicitor, the story’s narrator, and as Kipps’ acting coach.

Special recognition goes to Leembrugger who plays each townsperson with professional distinction. His performance, in particular, makes the narrative all the more clearer. Undoubtedly, should another actor have played Kipps, the audience might have found themselves lost in Mallatratt’s complex tale. As for the dreaded woman in black, you’ll just have to see for yourself!

Colin Smith’s set design immediately transports the audience into a sparsely dressed Victorian playhouse which mirrors perfectly as the haunted home. Like many of Keegan’s past productions, The Woman in Black makes brilliant use of the theater’s red brick walls — it creates an intimate environment that is absolutely necessary for a play of this kind. Even the theater’s dusty smell completely immerses the audience into the world of the play.

The lighting design, with its use of exaggerated shadows and intense front lights, is reminiscent of the film noir style. Much of the design is subtle — as an audience member, I found myself subconsciously looking around to catch a glimpse of the “young woman with the wasted face.” Finally, the sound design is what makes this ghost story so terrifying: it plays with the notion that what we don’t see is what scares us the most. Filled with a cacophony of altered voices, screams, and creaking doors, Angelini’s sound design creates an eerie atmosphere that would make film directors like James Wan and Dario Argento proud.

Overall, Keegan Theatre’s The Woman in Black is a strong piece of theatre and a truly chilling ghost story. The play’s length is its greatest strength: were it any longer the experience would have quickly grown tedious, but were it any shorter, the audience would arguably have left unsatisfied. It may not be the most thought-provoking piece of theatre, but it is, without a doubt, a play you do not want to miss. Thank you, Keegan, for once again giving DC theatre-goers an experience we have not seen in a while.

Photo Gallery

Matthew Keenan	Robert Leembruggen
Robert Leembruggen, Matthew Keenan	Matthew Keenan, Robert Leembruggen
Matthew Keenan	Matthew Keenan

Photos by Cameron Whitman

Cast

• Matthew Keenan: Actor
• Robert Leembrugger: Mr. Kipps

Crew

• Mark Rhea: Co-Director
• Colin Smith: Co-Director and Scenic Designer
• Carol Floretta Hood Baker: Set Dressing and Properties Design
• Tony Angelini: Sound Design
• Michael Innocenti: Lighting Design
• Dan Deiter: Stage Manager
• Craig Miller: Hair and Make-Up Design
• Kelly Peacock: Costume Design

Disclaimer: Keegan Theatre provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

Keegan Theatre has established itself as a company that dedicates itself to thought-provoking, heartfelt, and painfully immediate work. Its most recent production of David Lindsay-Abaire’s award-winning play, Rabbit Hole, is no exception to that rule. Headed by director Kerri Rambow, the production serves the play astutely, honoring its necessary moments of humor, sadness, tension, and lacerating truth.

Rabbit Hole is a stunning family drama that explores one family’s will to survive after monumental loss. It centers around Becca and Howie, a New York couple, eight months after the death of their four-year old son, Danny. Throughout the play, Becca and Howie occupy themselves with birthday parties, cozy wine-filled nights, and pastry baking. However, these attempts at normalcy cannot mask the lingering and terribly raw grief that Becca and Howie feel for their son.

Lindsay-Abaire’s script is undoubtedly a gratifying challenge for any actor to take on. In his playwright’s notes, Linsday-Abaire writes that while Rabbit Hole is about a family in mourning, its inhabitants are “highly functional, unsentimental, spirited, and often funny people” who try to navigate their way through their grief to the best of their ability. Indeed, the humor in this play is essential, something that Rambow clearly understands.

Keegan’s company uses Lindsay-Abaire’s wit, grace, and rhetorical skill to its near-fullest capacity. Keegan’s actors present an honest depiction of a family in a throes of grief who try maintain that delicate balance between falling into ruts of paralyzing sadness and finding the will to carry on.

The women in particular are the production’s crowning glories. Susan Rhea is stellar as Becca, who takes on the role with grace as she grieves for Danny in her own way while attempting to maintain some control over her life. Indeed, Rhea comfortably inhabits the play’s silent moments with mesmerizing tension and well-placed weariness, making her performance all the more impressive. Linda High’s take on Becca’s mother, Nat, is equally applaudable. Her mother-daughter dynamic with Rhea makes their relationship quite believable, and her astute layering of insight and comedy is delightful and well-received. Shayna Blass’ eccentric and sarcastic performance as Izzy — Becca’s younger sister — inspirits the play, providing much-needed comedic interludes that do not distract from its gravity and weight.

Only one critique exists where the women are concerned. Considering the relationship between Izzy and Becca and the apparent age range between Blass and Rhea, their dynamic better resembles that between a mother and a daughter rather than two sisters. While this certainly does not diminish the play’s overall effect, when Becca reprimands Izzy for taking part in a bar fight, it comes across as a scolding session instead of a heated discussion.

Founder and Artistic Director Mark Rhea — married to Susan Rhea — plays Howie, the grieving father, with honesty. His proclivity towards outwardly directed bitterness contrasts well with Becca’s arguably more controlled efforts at grieving. However, the pacing during some of Rhea’s moments of silent anger and sadness are a bit slow. This caused certain scenes to take longer than were perhaps necessary. As the sixteen year-old, Jason, who was involved with Danny’s accidental death, Patrick Joy takes on the role earnestly, channeling a good amount of teenage awkwardness and self-awareness. His scene with Becca as they discuss the rabbit holes in his short story dedicated to Danny is absolutely mesmerizing, particularly following Becca’s sudden breakdown.

For a play as personal as Rabbit Hole, it makes sense to set it in a hyper-realistic New York home. 4Points Design Collective has designed for Keegan a meticulously detailed two-story home featuring granite table tops, working stairs leading to the floor above, and walls covered with abstract art. Upon entering the theatre, the audience is transported into the Corbett’s suburban home. Perhaps most impressive — and haunting — is Danny’s bedroom on the second story. Brightly colored and decorated with robot sheets, drawings on the wall, and children’s books on the shelf, the very memory of Danny literally lingers above the couples’ heads. Indeed, scattered throughout the house are more reminders of their old life: broken toys, “creepy” Elmo dolls, and baby pictures serve as constant reminders that the pain never really goes away, but is something that you “carry around – like a brick in your pocket.” Despite the meticulousness of the set’s design, the only distracting element is a seemingly unfinished set of stairs.

Rabbit Hole, which runs through July 21st, allows its audience a public viewing of a family’s private life. The beauty of this play is that it speaks to something to which anyone could relate. Keegan Theatre’s performance is an astutely staged and moving piece that speaks to the universal notions of blame and individual means of grappling with grief after the death of a loved one. When you count the success of this production, this season’s final production of A Few Good Men, the fact that Mark Rhea just purchased the rights to the Church Street theater, and exciting news surrounding its upcoming season, it appears that Keegan Theatre has much to celebrate.

Photo Gallery

Susan Marie Rhea, Mark A. Rhea	Shayna Blass, Linda High
Mark A. Rhea	Patrick Joy
Susan Marie Rhea	Mark A. Rhea, Susan Marie Rhea

Photos by C. Stanley Photography

Cast

• Becca: Susan Marie Rhea
• Howie: Mark Rhea
• Izzy: Shayna Blass
• Nat: Linda High
• Jason: Patrick Joy

Artistic Team

• Director: Kerri Rambow
• Set Design: 4Point Design Collective (comprising of Stefan Gibson, Matt Corell, Mark Johnson, and Ricardo Seijo)
• Sound Design: Tony Angelini
• Set Dressing and Properties Design: Carol Floretta H. Baker
• Assistant Stage Manager: Timothée Courouble
• Stage Manager: Dan Deiter
• Hair and Makeup Design: Craig Miller
• Costume Design: Kelly Peacock
• Assistant Director/Lighting Design: Megan Thrift
• Assistant Properties Design: Katrina Wiskup

Disclaimer: Keegan Theatre provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

Faction of Fools, the city’s leading Commedia dell’Arte theatre troupe, seeks to embrace the Italian tradition’s nuances and themes, all the while progressing towards a more innovative and accessible experience. The company concludes its fourth season with their enthusiastic production, The Lady Becomes Him. The play is ripe with vaudeville gags, slapstick, and the offhand popular culture reference. However, while the piece is filled with eager and selfless actors who clearly enjoy their work, unresolved and often times confusing chaos dominates the stage.

The play follows several love triangles. Orazio (played by Stephen Hock) loves Celia (Lindsey D. Snyder), but her husband Il Dottore (Matthew Pauli) forbids the affair. A foreign noblewoman, Isabella (Amelia Hensley) also loves Orazio, but is pursued by another foreigner, Luzio (James McGowan). Isabella rejects Luzio’s advances, confident that Orazio loves her. Meanwhile, Orazio’s servant, Coviello (Jesse Terrill), loves Isabella’s maid, Rosetta (Rachel Spicknall Mulford), who cannot choose between Coviello and Pulcinella (John Bellomo), Il Doterre’s servant. Orazio and Coviello devise a plot make Celia and Pulcinella switch bodies (using, of course, a set of magic rings), which will give Orazio a chance to woo and run away with Celia. Naturally, shenanigans ensues.

This play marks Toby Mulford’s DC directorial debut. He is a graduate of the dell’Arte International School of Physical Theatre and a Faction veteran. Mulford, together with assistant director, Tyler Herman, adapted The Lady Becomes Him from a seventeenth-century plot outline titled Donna Zanni. This outline includes the classic tropes of infidelity, overlapping love triangles, disguises, and magic. Because the adaptation is based on an outline, certain moments in the play’s action become stagnant, forcing the actors to fill the gaps with improvised vaudevillian schtick: some gags work brilliantly, while others warrant only a chuckle. Some jokes, however, were flat to begin with, growing more tedious with each unnecessary repetition. The play’s comedic moments are most successful when they happen spontaneously and without warning. The conjuring of a spirit (known as the “Ringalungen”) and the company breaking into a composed sing-a-long become the highlights of the production solely because they were so unexpected.

The company displayed competency in the major components of the Commedia tradition: improvisation, exaggerated physicality, and comedic monomania. Pauli — aided by his ever-faithful stuffed companion, Dotteddy — is the ideal Commedia performer; his physical presence and fiery temperament made him the perfect candidate for the jealous nobleman. Hock’s performance was flawlessly timed as he minced across the stage, playing the part of the love-struck Orazio. Rachel Spicknall Mulford — who played both Rosetta and the “Ringalungen” — was particularly impressive. Her timing and improvisational skills left the audience roaring with laughter in most instances. Hensley and McGowan were perhaps the most successful in conveying the kind of physicality that the Commedia tradition requires. Armed with extravagant gestures, the pair never missed a beat and proved themselves proficient in slapstick.

While the actors should be applauded for their unbridled enthusiasm, I would argue that the physical comedy was rather chaotic. Very often did the actors run and roll around the stage without purpose or precision, making it seem like they were pandering more for a particular reaction from the audience, instead of authentically playing the comedic bits.

The theatre company is notable for incorporating the deaf and hard of hearing, as Faction works heavily with the Theatre Arts department at Gallaudet University. Perhaps the most innovative aspect of this production was the creative use of the theatre’s caption board which, when it wasn’t providing visual accompaniment to the spoken and signed dialogue, became a fully integrated and saucy addition to the cast.

In many ways, the production’s technical elements served their purposes without fail. Daniel Flint’s scenic design aptly captures the scenery of 17th-century Naples. I would, however, have liked to see the period-appropriate laundry hanging from the clothes lines used as a comedic device. In the opening scene, Pauli uses a pair of bloomers to disguise himself, seamlessly using the set pieces to enhance the gag. Chris Holland’s lighting design simultaneously added touches of naturalism and cheeky theatricality to the production. Lynly Saunders’ costume design smartly differentiated between social status and stock characters, while Aaron Cromie’s mask designs honored the Commedia tradition with acute perfection.

Faction of Fools’ production of The Lady Becomes Him is an enjoyable frolic through 17th-century Naples, peopled by a group of fun-loving actors. What the production lacks in physical precision and witty banter, it makes up in unbridled enthusiasm and exuberance.

Director’s Notes

This is a play about love, and the messes we get ourselves into because of it. This is not a new theme.

The Lady Becomes Her is a Frankenstein’s monster of a play. The skeleton is taken from a three-page document entitled Donna Zanni, from the Casamarciano Scenarios, one of only a few existing collections of plot outlines from the 17th century Commedia dell’Arte. The flesh and blood were created collaboratively by the actors and designers, mixing and matching oddly-shaped parts in a frenzy of experimentation. Tyler Herman and I have supplied the rawhide sutures to stitch it all together. The breath of life comes from you, the audience. And whether the resulting play stumbles about grunting and breaking lab equipment, or grabs a top hat and shuffles off to Buffalo, the hope is that it will at least be entertaining.

I believe that this haphazard form of playmaking is a perfect mirror for the haphazard nature of love. While we may do homage to love with sonnets and sonatas, the reality tends to be a bit more clownish, complete with pratfalls, comical stuttering, and the odd squirting flower.

Love and slapstick are both about people getting hurt, but not dying of it. Your heart gets broken, your bottom gets paddled, and you pick yourself back up and go on. This principle is what fuels Commedia: if the young lovers get together in the end, the world can go on spinning, no matter what kind of mayhem we all had to go through to make it happen. At the end of the play, we get to bask in the fulfillment of their love for a moment, before something goes wrong and we’re plunged again into chaos. Further comedy ensues. Life lurches misshapenly on. We hope at least that it is entertaining.

Photo Gallery

Matthew Pauli, Rachel Spicknall Mulford and Amelia Hensley	Stephen Hock, John V. Bellomo, Rachel Spicknall Mulford, Lindsey D. Snyder and Matthew Pauli
Rachel Spicknall Mulford and Amelia Hensley	Rachel Spicknall Mulford, Amelia Hensley, Matthew Pauli, Lindsey D. Snyder, James McGowan, Stephen Hock and John V. Bellomo
Matthew Pauli

Photos by Second Glance Photography

Cast

• Il Dotorre, a powerful man: Matthew Pauli
• Celia, his wife: Lindsey D. Snyder
• Pulcinella, their servant: John V. Bellomo
• Orazio, in love with Celia: Stephen Hock
• Coviello, his servant: Jesse Terrill
• Isabella, in love with Orazio: Amelia Hensley
• Rosetta, her servant: Rachel Spicknall Mulford
• Luzio, in love with Isabella: James McGowan
• The Sorcerer: Amelia Hensley
• The Spirit: Rachel Spicknall Mulford

Artistic Team

• Artistic Director: Matthew R. Wilson
• Production Manager: Sarah Conte
• Director, Managing Director: Toby Mulford
• Assistant Director: Tyler Herman
• Stage Manager: Alice Maglessen
• Assistant Stage Manager: Kathryn Dooley
• Scenic Designer: Daniel Flint
• Lighting Designer: Chris Holland
• Props Designer: Kristen Pilgrem
• Mask Design and Fabrication: Aaron Cromie
• Costume Design: Lynly A. Saunders

Disclaimer: Faction of Fools provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

The Olney Theatre Center kicks off its 75th season with its breathtaking and mesmerizing production of Spring Awakening. Artistic director Steve Cosson leaves his audience members speechless and humming the tunes long after final curtain.

An award-winning rock musical based on the Frank Wedekind play, Spring Awakening follows the story of children going through adolescence without parental guidance during the late nineteenth-century. It focuses on the budding relationship between Wendla and Melchior, two children aware and curious of their bodily changes, and Moritz, a youth traumatized by his sexual desires. In the musical, the three students and their fellow adolescent friends express their confusion, longing, fears, and desires.

Olney’s design of Spring Awakening honors both the expressionist nature of Wedekind’s play and the modern and presentational elements of the musical adaptation. Adrian Jones’ set design is minimal and Robert Wierzel’s lighting design uses effects from a rock and roll concert as its primary source of inspiration. Together, the designers created a set that makes seamless scene transitions an easy feat. As the musical progresses, chairs move around the space and different lighting fixtures drop from the ceiling to indicate location changes. The production’s approach displays the designers’ flairs for presentation; they make no attempt to conceal the orchestra or various lighting instruments. Wierzel’s design consists of spotlights and a frame of fluorescent and multicolored lights, stretching around the proscenium’s edges. The overall design allows the production to straddle presentation and representation without any trace of forced effort. Ceiling lamps and lights emulating natural sunlight fill the stage during the book scenes, while bright and multicolored lights flash before the audience when the actors sing. Jones continues to astound the audience by adding a few scenic surprises in the second act.

In both the musical and the straight play, Spring Awakening‘s dialogue explores the differences between two generations. Indeed, Sarah Beers’ costume design explores that generational clash. The two adults — played by Liz Mamana and Ethan Watermeier — are dressed in Victorian and colorless clothing to match their equally draconian viewpoints. On the other extreme, the children wear flattering school uniforms with small flourishes of color. Along the same vein, Sam Pinkleton’s choreography for the children results in an overflow of sporadic energy, while the adults move mechanically and rarely dance at all. Thanks to Cosson’s staging and Pinkleton’s choreography, the production never had a static moment.

Even though Spring Awakening is emotionally charged and almost painfully immediate, the cast all played their roles with authenticity and professionalism. From the principals to the ensemble, each actor — for the most part — truthfully explored different phases of adolescence. The actors’ transitioned between the awkwardly childish lines and the beautifully poetic lyrics almost effortlessly. Alyse Alan Louise was delightful as Wendla, particularly during her renditions of “Mama Who Bore Me” and “Whispering.” She captured Wendla’s sense of wonder and curiosity, gleefully joining her classmates in song with unbridled longing. Matthew Kacergis’ Melchoir was equally impressive; he approached the character with a balanced sense of rebellion, stoicism, and exuberance. Kacergis’ interactions with Louise were mesmerizing, their shared energy and tentativeness was nothing short of electrifying.

Special congratulations go to Parker Drown and Maggie Donnelly for their performances of Moritz and Ilse, respectively. Drown’s performance of the tragic hero was beautifully executed. Timid and vulnerable during his scenes, Drown let loose during his private moments, attempting to confront his feelings with precision and eloquence. His performance of “I Don’t Do Sadness” left the audience heartbroken and slack-jawed. Donnelly’s take on Ilse was a true delight. As the infamous bohemian, unaware of the immediate danger of her lifestyle, Donnelly’s timing was impeccable and she approached the role with tragicomic sophistication. Mamana and Watermeier also deserve recognition: they transitioned between adult characters with great distinction and without difficulty. Indeed, most of the production’s humor came from Mamana’s and Watermeier’s interpretations of the mechanical and tightly wound German adults.

My only criticism of the production concerns the scene with Hanschen and Ernst — played by Austin VanDyke Colby and David Landstrom, respectively — in the second act. During their homosexual encounter, the two characters act with honesty, fear, and excitement. Instead, Lanstrom slightly glosses over his character’s fear, embracing a more giddy and stereotypical interpretation. The scene therefore came across as somewhat campy, implying that their relationship was nothing more than a humorous commodity. In light of everything else, however, this scene did not diminish the production’s overall success.

The Olney Theatre Center’s production of Spring Awakening is simultaneously charming and mortifying. It would be a mistake to miss out on this experience, as almost everything about it is flawlessly executed and truthfully explored.

Dramaturg Notes

In the opening scene of Spring Awakening, the rock-music reimagining of Frank Wedekind’s 1891 play, a teenage girl asks her mother how babies are born. Conditioned by a culture that uses shame, disguised as morality, to repress its people, the mother does not answer the question. These moments of silence and misinformation fuel the tragic events that follow. Fast forward more than a century to contemporary America, and adults and teens are still not talking about sex – at least not as openly, honestly, or as effectively as we could be.

Both the play and the musical address issues of their times — teen sex, suicide, child abuse, abortion, and the general difficulties confronting adolescents in an adult-controlled world. In a world that does not discuss sexuality, the children of Spring Awakening are left to their own resources of investigation. The boys and girls experiment with autoeroticism, homosexuality, and even sado-masochism. Wedekind considered this experimentation a natural stage in the development of human sexuality. What he saw as unnatural (and what he criticizes in this work) is a society, represented by parents and teachers, which avoids the discussion of sexuality. Wedekind saw this censored speech as the true perversion of bourgeois society in that it instilled anxiety and ignorance in children.

Frank Wedekind anticipated in his attack on bourgeois society the modern drama of revolt. Here was a man with no inhibitions, critical of middle class values, and willing to push moral, political, and social boundaries. In the microcosm of Spring Awakening, Wedekind presents parents and school authorities as automata, incapable of human feeling. The adults speak in pompous, meaning clichés, while the young people express their feelings with an awkward honesty.

Spring Awakening is beyond sex and controversial issues. It’s about the circulation of knowledge — how information, beliefs, and ideas are produced, exchanged, and, most importantly, questioned. Sheik and Sater blend rock music, contemporary slang, and poetry to remind teenagers and adults alike of the chaos, within and without, which is adolescence.

In a time when schools across the nation are weighing the value of abstinence-only sex-education programs, or fretting over whether or not to allow the distribution of condoms, Spring Awakening makes a passionate and deeply moving argument in favor of open discussion and the sharing of information. Although parents may instinctively want to protect their kids from the harsh realities of the adult world, the play firmly insists that when dealing with sexuality, ignorance will definitely not lead to bliss.

– Meghan Twible, Educational Fellow

Photo Gallery

Wendla’s Mother (Liz Mamana) explains, in her way, where babies come from to Wendla (Alyse Alan Louis)	Melchior (Matthew Kacergis) stands up for Moritz (Parker Drown)
Melchior (Matthew Kacergis) and Wendla (Alyse Alan Louis) share a moment	Liz Mamana and Ethan Watermeier portray all the adult roles
The cast	Melchior (Matthew Kacergis) is prosecuted by his teachers (Liz Mamana and Ethan Watermeier)
Melchior (Matthew Kacergis) and the cast	The cast

Photos by Stan Barouh

Cast

• Wendla: Alyse Alan Louis
• Ilse: Maggie Donnelly
• Martha: MaryLee Adams
• Anna: Dayna Marie Quincy
• Thea: Gracie Jones
• Melchior: Matthew Kacergis
• Moritz: Parker Drown
• Hanschen: Austin VanDyke Colby
• Ernst: David Landstrom
• Georg: Chris Rudy
• Otto: Chistopher Mueller
• The Adult Men: Ethan Watermeier
• The Adult Women: Liz Mamana
• Ensemble: Samuel Edgerly, Ali Hoxie, Katie McCreary, Tim Rogan

Understudies

• Melchior: Austin VanDyke Colby
• Moritz: David Landstrom
• Hanschen, Ernst: Tim Rogan
• Georg, Otto: Samuel Edgerly
• Wendla, Martha: Ali Hoxie
• Ilse, Anna, Thea: Katie McCreary

Production Staff

• Director: Steve Cosson
• Acting Technical Director: Charlie Olson
• Choreographer: Sam Pinkleton
• Musical Director: Christopher Youstra
• Costume Designer: Sarah Beers
• Set Design: Adrian W. Jones
• Sound Design: Will Picken
• Lighting Designer: Robert Wierzel
• Fight Choreographer: Casey Kaleba
• Production Stage Manager: Renee E. Yancey
• Dance Captain: MaryLee Adams
• Production Director: Dennis A. Blackledge
• Company Manager: Mackenzie Douglas
• Costume Shop Manager: Jeanne Bland

Orchestra

• Conductor, Keyboard, Accordion: Christopher Youstra
• Violin and Electric Violin: Patricia Wnek
• Viola: Andrea Vercoe
• Cello: Catherine Mikelson
• Acoustic and Electric Guitars: Kim Spath
• Acoustic and Electric Bass: Frank Higgins
• Percussion: Alex Aucoin
• Additional Guitar: Sam Edgerly & Katie McCreary
• Additional Orchestrations and Programming: Christopher Youstra

Disclaimer: Olney Theatre Center provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

Directors Christina Coakley and Michael Innocenti have successfully provided DC with a piece of genuinely excellent theatre. The Keegan Theatre’s production of Cabaret is well-timed, indeed, as it lines up with the 1972 film’s 40th anniversary. However, this production embraces the musical’s more sinister roots making it quite different than the, for lack of a better word, light-hearted nature of the film. Upon walking into the theatre, it became clear Coakley and Innocenti chose to base their production on the Studio 54 1998 Broadway revival. Regardless of approach, their production is refined, mesmerizing, and a refreshing take on a musical that can admittedly be repetitive in its presentational nature. The production’s innovation in storytelling went hand-in-hand with Coakley and Innocenti’s crisp staging, Rachel Leigh Dolan’s beautiful choreography, and most of the casts’ truthful and spot-on performances.

Based on John Van Druten’s play, I Am The Camera, and Christopher Isherwood’s short novel, “Goodbye to Berlin,” Cabaret follows the seedy nightlife of the Kit Kat Klub during the Nazi’s rise to power in 1931. Specifically, it focuses on Sally Bowles, an English cabaret performer, and her romantic entanglement with Clifford Bradshaw, a young American writer. Overseeing the whole affair is the Emcee, a charismatic but twisted Master of Ceremonies, who frequently narrates the action occurring outside of the nightclub. As a whole, the production delicately and professionally finds the balance between presentational and representational theatre. The production’s transitions from the realistic to the theatrical are quite seamless. Speaking of theatrical, the musical’s diegetic numbers are performed with a delightful combination of whimsy and chilling seriousness. From Sally dancing with her very own lollipop guild to the Emcee enjoying a romp with a boy or two, Innocenti and Coakley ensure that the audiences’ eyes remain glued to the stage. This production honors the musical’s episodic nature better than any production of Cabaret I’ve seen thus far. The production told the story particularly well, especially in places where the musical’s nonlinear structure made the plot a bit muddy. At what point does Sally notice Cliff in the Kit Kat Klub, for example? What does “Mein Herr” discuss? You’ll find out!

Innocenti’s scant set design beautifully showcases the Church Street space’s skeletal and bricked interior, immediately creating the deliciously seedy effect that the Kit Kat Klub emanates. The slight touches and flourishes of period-specific costumes and props play an effective role in showcasing the performers’ abilities, as there are few distracting scenic elements. Innocenti’s lighting design is a delicate balance of the musical’s real and heightened moments and Jake Null’s sound design is well-placed and unobtrusive. The orchestra, which lives above the stage, played Kander’s score with deliberation, honoring the minimalistic musical style of the 1998 revival, while making homage to some of the “Weillian” musical flourishes of the 1966 original production.

Cabaret‘s characters undergo political, social, and economic strife, forcing them to reveal to us their true, or otherwise conflicted, natures. Indeed, most of the actors did just that, all the while playing their parts with a great deal of life and authenticity without necessarily relying upon the traditions of past productions. Paul Scanlan was mesmerizing to watch as the Emcee. He simultaneously charmed and disgusted the audience by switching between charismatic entertainer and twisted pervert. Armed with a silky singing voice, Scanlan sang his ghostly and hypnotic rendition of “I Don’t Care Much,” for example, making the audience cringe in their seats and yearn for more at the same time. I was also delighted to see that Scanlan did not call upon Joel Grey or Alan Cumming for inspiration, particularly at the end of “If You Could See Her.” Maria Rizzo’s performance as Sally Bowles was inspiring as she sporadically went from effervescent performer to wry alcoholic with a tragicomic whimsy. I would argue, however, that Rizzo’s singing voice was perhaps too pretty for the role. I have always thought of Sally as a particularly untalented character, but Rizzo glided through songs like “Maybe This Time” and “Mein Herr,” regardless of how introspective those songs were, a bit too gracefully. Throughout the musical, I kept asking myself why Bowles felt the need to leave Mayfair with a voice like that. Interestingly enough, there were times where Rizzo sped up in her songs. Regardless of whether this was a deliberate acting choice or merely incidental, I felt it added an extra layer of instability to Rizzo’s performance of Sally. Bradley Foster Smith’s performance of the optimistic and wide-eyed Cliff was a breath of fresh air. Too often have I seen actors play Cliff with a straight-laced and matter-of-fact air that closer resembled Christopher Isherwood than the character himself.

Jane Petkofsky was radiant as Fräulein Schneider. From “So What?” to “What Would You Do?,” Petkofsky’s take on the tough and hardworking Schneider brought either a smile to my face or a chill in my spine. Stan Shulman’s performance as Herr Schultz may have been the most charming thing about this production. Shulman’s comedic timing was impeccable, whether he drunkenly stumbled around at his own engagement party or sheepishly gave a pineapple to his lady-love. The two actors were an absolute delight in “It Couldn’t Please Me More” and “Married;” I could not help but giggle under my breath as the two danced around the stage. Christopher Gillespie was quite effective as Ernst Ludwig, Cliff’s first introduction to Berlin. I would, however, have liked to see more of Ludwig’s comical side (see: “We can make a large whoopee, ja?”) in the first act, as it would have made his personality change in the second act all the more jarring.

Special congratulations go to the ensemble members of the production, who created the deliciously hyper-sexual and chilling ambience of the Cabaret‘s Germany with great enthusiasm and selflessness. The whole cast worked tirelessly through Dolan’s choreography. My main criticism of the ensemble, however, concerns the males; while they romped and rolled with gusto as Kit Kat Boys, their performances as intimidating Nazi soldiers were perhaps less than effective.

This production is, at its core, a fun romp in Berlin but it also treats on deeper and darker issues that pervaded Weimar Germany during the Nazis’ rise to power. It would be a grave mistake to miss out on this production, for in spite of my criticism, the truly excellent outweighs the slightly disappointing or under-explored.

Photo Gallery

Maria Rizzo and Paul Scanlan	Maria Rizzo and Paul Scanlan
Paul Scanlan as Emcee and Kit Kat Girls	Paul Scanlan as Emcee and Ensemble
Maria Rizzo as Sally Bowles	Charlie Abel as Max and Maria Rizzo as Sally Bowles
Maria Rizzo as Sally Bowles and Bradley Foster Smith as Clifford Bradshaw	Ensemble

Photos by Cameron Whitman and C. Stanley Photography

Cast

• Emcee: Paul Scanlan
• Sally Bowles: Maria Rizzo
• Clifford Bradshaw: Bradley Foster Smith
• Fräulein Schneider: Jane Petkofsky
• Herr Schultz: Stan Shulman
• Fräulein Kost/Fritzie: Sarah Lasko
• Ernst Ludwig: Christopher Gillespie
• Max/Herman: Charlie Abel
• German Officer/Hans/Rudy: Timothy Adams
• Lulu: Shayna Blass
• Helga: Sarah Chapin
• Texas: Alison Crosby
• Rosie: Paige Felix
• Bobby: Matthew Rubbelke
• Frenchie: Erin Ryan
• Victor: Ryan Patrick Welsh
• Swings: Shannon Marie Cusselo, Ben Lurye

Artistic Team

• Director: Christina A. Coakley
• Director/Set Designer: Michael Innocenti
• Set Dressing and Properties Designer: Carol Baker
• Choreographer: Rachel Leigh Dolan
• Costume Designer: Shadia Hafiz
• Costume Assistant: Brittany Harris
• Music Direction: John-Michael d’Haviland
• Hair and Make-Up Design: Craig Miller
• Stage Manager: Lauren A. Miller
• Sound Design: Jake Null
• Assistant Stage Manager: Will Pommerening
• Assistant Director: Jennifer Richter
• Properties and Set Dressing: Katrina Wiskup

Cabaret Orchestra

• Conductor: J. Michael d’Haviland
• Keyboard: Walter McCoy
• Trumpet: Paul Weiss
• Reed I: Gwyn Jones
• Reed II: Dana Gardner
• Trombone: Ryan Shofnos
• Percussion: Matt Robotham
• Bass: Jason Wilson

Disclaimer: Keegan Theatre provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.