Greta Oglesby and Company in The Amen Corner. Photo by Michael Brosilow.

Luke staggers into his ex-wife Margaret’s Harlem flat – it’s the closest thing he has to “home” – carrying one thing: his shiny, lovingly maintained trumpet.  Margaret, popular pastor of a fundamentalist church, is appalled to see him.  He represents a part of her life she had thought safely in her past.  He frightens her deeply.

But Luke doesn’t care.  He has two agendae.  First, he intends to save his son David from the corrosive Christianity practiced by Margaret.  David is gifted and complicated, quite probably homosexual, just entering manhood.  Two futures beckon: playing piano for his mother in the “safe” church; or sallying forth into the huge, dangerous but mysteriously thrilling world.  “He got the call,” Margaret maintains, with increasing desperation.  “He’ll get the call.”  “I don’t care what life he leads,” Luke says, “as long as it’s his life.”

Agenda #2: Luke is going to die.  He suffers from TB, barely to breathe, and that he is in the final hours of his life lends the play terrifying intensity.  He represents music, artistic instinct, the real world, spirit.  And at the same time he is a harbinger of death, a reminder that our time on this beautiful planet can be brutally limited.  Luke’s passion plays out in a series of quiet and astonishing scenes, first with David, then with Margaret.  These scenes are gorgeously wrought – and are worth the price of admission.

They also form the heart of James Baldwin‘s sprawling but exuberant, acutely observed, richly autobiographical portrait of life in a small Harlem church, The Amen Corner (Penumbra Theatre performing at the Guthrie, through June 17).  The Amen Corner was composed (in 1954) when Baldwin was in his late 20s and the play does occasionally display a young writer’s lack of disciplined playwriting chops: it’s often repetitive and static.  But no matter.  Baldwin’s passion, his sense that Christianity is simultaneously empowering and stultifying animates The Amen Corner and lends it rousing energy.

James Baldwin is a true American master, who came into his own as a novelist (Fire On The Mountain) and, especially, as an essayist (The Fire Next Time, Notes Of A Native Son).  He lived in an amazing era, violent and nation-altering.  Despite the fact that he was, for most of his adult life, an expatriate living in France, Baldwin became a vigorous spokesman for the Civil Rights Movement, an incisive truth-teller.  Slight, frankly homosexual, with large dreamy eyes, Baldwin could transition from self-deprecating humor to fiery passion with breath-taking swiftness.  He lives on on YouTube and is well worth checking out (especially his thoughtful debate with Malcolm X).

Director Lou Bellamy and set designer Vicki Smith create a vivid sense of Sister Margaret’s fundamentalist fastness amid the mad swirl of 1950s Harlem.  We see, just barely, a billiards parlor, a liquor store.  Kids play, drunks stagger, sailors ogle girls.  But the church is a sweet sanctuary of gospel music – unless you are paraplegic this play will get your feet tapping – and joyful Lord-praising.

The performances in The Amen Corner are outstanding.  Greta Oglesby plays Sister Margaret beautifully, fearful of what Luke represents, yet drawn, inevitably, to his deathbed.  She never wavers from her religious convictions, even as old passions rise up unbidden.  She is able to give expression to gorgeous defiance in the face of her congregation’s (egregiously unfair) accusations.  Oglesby is also a terrific vocalist and she does some highly tasty singing – ditto the wonderful Dennis W. Spears.  As Luke, Hannibal Lokumbe amazes, as he pants and weaves through his scenes – and plays them with can’t-look-away fervency.  Plus, as a bonus, Lokumbe is a gifted trumpeter.  What more could you ask for?  As Odessa, Crystal Fox does quietly lovely work, as does Faye M. Price.  Thomasina Petrus is a hoot.

And Eric Berryman as David.  Wow.  Quiet, understated, poised, sweet, drawn to his father’s musicianship, in love with his mother’s safe religiosity.  Quietly defiant: “I have things I have to so,” he says, making you feel pressing burden of his future.  Berryman dominates every scene he’s in.  Bravo.

I would recommend The Amen Corner (enthusiastically), but with a caveat: it’s long.  Come prepared to spend a solid three hours in your seat.  And let James Baldwin’s enduring spirit wash over you.

For more info about John Olive please visit his (recently updated) website.

Pipa Peartree, Tom Corbeil, Douglas Sills, Cortney Wolfson, Sra Gettelfinger, Blake Hammond and Patrick D. Kennedy in The Addams Family. Photo by Jeremy Daniel.

The Addams Family has settled into the friendly confines of the Ordway for a solid two week run (through May 20).  Your intrepid HowWasTheShow.com reviewers, Janet Preus and John Olive, attended opening night, then repaired to the Amsterdam Bar for cold beverages and an order of greas—, er, no, make that perfectly rendered freedom fries.  They discussed the play:

John Olive: The audience adored The Addams Family.  They laughed at all the dysfunctional family jokes – “My sweet little cockroach.”  Even after two and a half hours the jokes played – “Are you unhappy, darling? / Completely.”  They applauded every song. Did you see that young woman in front of me?  She giggled and clapped and hopped in her seat.  At the end, the play-goers leapt to their feet in a heartfelt ovation.  What kind of odious churl could dislike a show like this?

Janet Preus: You.

JO:  Janet, you have a lot of experience with music theater; you’ve directed many musicals, created them yourself.  Why does The Addams Family work so well?

JP: It’s well done.  It’s traditional American music theater, clocking in at a solid two and a half hours.  The audience adored the characters, they liked the spectacle, the fun of it.  The songs are solid and lyrics [by Andrew Lippa] in particular are clever.  The songs don’t develop the characters very effectively, but the book writers [Marshall Brickman and Rick Elice] and the composer make sure they pay off.

JO: Uncle Fester’s wonderful “The Moon and Me” may seem completely irrelevant, but the show-makers find a nifty way to make the story it creates end the show.

JP: The Addams Family uses the same basic story as La Cage Aux Folles:  a”straight” family visits and, exposed to the quirkiness of the Addamses, changes drastically. But La Cage has at its core a serious social issue. The same cannot be said of The Addams Family, but it works, and who would complain about a “love conquers all” theme for a musical? This is more about character anyway.

JO: I have assiduously limited my exposure to The Addams Family.  I’m too young to have enjoyed many of the Charles Addams‘s New Yorker cartoons, I didn’t watch the TV series, I’ve seen none of the movies.  Does this make me the perfect Addams Family-goer?

JP: No, you’re the worst.  Much of the appeal here is the audience’s familiarity with the characters.  They’re like old friends.  Did you see the kids dressed up as [the play characters] Wednesday and Pugsley?  The Morticias?

JO: My biggest problem was with the character of Wednesday [Cortney Wolfson] and her one-note desire to get married.  It’s pure story fodder and it makes her quite unappealing.

JP: She’s the ingénue and this is an example of how ingénue characters are often thin and no fun to play.  Her style of singing, peculiar to musical theater performers, is a pet peeve of mine. She has a powerhouse voice and could sing with more depth and richness, so why not do that?  Another problem is Act 2;  a few of the songs are repetitive.

JO: The performances are terrific.  Uncle Fester [Blake Hammond] is surprisingly sweet, lithe and light on his feet, with his mischievous grin.  I enjoyed him enormously.  And the way the show-makers make the tall and gangly Lurch pay off at the end is wonderful.  His basso profundo voice is a marvel.

JP: Not many voices like his get a pay-off like this one. Great fun. Gomez [played by Douglas Sills] is really wonderful.  He’s sharp, focused.  He carries the show.  His song “Trapped” is clever, delivered with finesse and sets up the action perfectly.  And Morticia [Sara Gettelfinger] is also excellent.  Kudos to the costumer[s, Julian Crouch and Phelim McDermott,] for creating her dress.

JO: That “plunges down to Venezuela.”  Yes, I kept my eye on it.

JP: Might have borrowed tricks from the Beauty Pageant or fashion world. They’re geniuses with body glue.

JO:Anyway, what you’re saying, if I can be trusted to place words in your mouth, is that if you’re bothered by static characters, repetitive songs, then maybe The Addams Family isn’t the show for you.

JP: It’s still quite beautiful to look at, particularly the cityscape with moon. And if you seriously dig these characters, if you’re a fan of the films and series, or  if you are in love with the genre, go. You’ll enjoy yourself.

JO: Forgive me, I’m Bogarting the fries.

Dawn Krosnowski , phillip andrew bennet low and Tim Uren in "The Diamond Lens"

Steampunk Delusions features two plays, one produced by Hardcover Theater and the other by English Scrimshaw Theatrical Novelties.

Hardcover Theater fills a curious niche in the Twin Cities, bringing to life somewhat obscure books and stories in sparsely but cleverly staged plays. The Diamond Lens: a Microscopic Fantasy of Love & Murder, written, produced and directed by Steve Schroer, is based on an 1858 story by Fitz-James O’Brian. The idea behind this play almost lent itself more naturally to dance, which doesn’t require much explanation—or logic in the story line. Or perhaps this play just needed to be funnier, wackier or more tragic. It was hard to really feel for our hapless protagonist, Douglas Linley because he seemed so, well, normal, for one with such a curious obsession.

How are we to get caught up in the world of a man who loves his microscope so much and is so taken with what he sees under it, and is so driven to possess the best microscope the world has ever known (and therefore to be able to see more than the world has ever seen), that in the end – well, either something remotely believable or something completely out of the realm of possibility happens. You get to pick.

One could suppose that the microscope, in the time period from which this story was taken, might have embodied the danger of dabbling too deep into the secrets of the universe, revealed by scientific discovery. Early Victorians (at least some) might have been threatened by that. But we’re not.

Regardless, I’m always entertained, at the very least, by the ingenuity Schroer shows in presenting what is a potentially complicated production using a tiny cast, no set and no props. Costumes and solid acting chops are all that is needed to take us into the world he has created for us. And even though a useful premise escaped me, there’s good craft in this script.

Phillip Andrew bennet low plays a thoroughly likeable Linley. Dawn Krosnowski and Tim Uren skillfully juggle multiple roles, and Kezia Germ is adorable as the dancing Animula. KT Thompson provided live keyboard accompaniment.

To Mars with Tesla, or The Interplanetary Machinations of Evil Thomas Edison, with at least some basis in a 1901 novel by J. Weldon Cobb, was created by Joshua Scrimshaw and Adrienne English.

Scrimshaw as Tesla and Kelvin Hatle as the not-too-scary villain, Edison, were hilarious together. As long as they were on the stage we knew what was powering the plot. In fact, anytime Scrimshaw and Hatle were onstage, it got interesting, and Amy Schweickhardt as Madame Curie was a good foil for the polished physical antics of the two leads.

Sending everybody to Mars, as ridiculously as that was accomplished, worked, to the extent that the Tesla vs. Edison conflict stayed in front of us. Even a shred of plausibility (and this has a really thin one) is enough when it’s funny enough, which it always was with Scrimshaw, in particular, was on stage.

The silliness on the moon … not so electrifying, even if there was a brain sucking Martian death hat. (That could have been a dandy steampunk contraption. Steampunk enthusiasts, just so you know, but for the rocket pack, you’ll have to use your imagination for actual mechanical gadgets beloved of the movement.)

The connection between the trip to the moon and the subplot of the hapless Martian family—even though the denouement plugged in to the Tesla/Edison feud—was a little too loose and the scene just didn’t light up. But after Scrimshaw’s escape from a wig lying on the floor (Tesla has a hair phobia), a scene truly worthy of the silent movie comics, the Martians appeared a bit like kids playing in the backyard.

Steampunk Delusions runs through May 12 at Open Eye Figure Theatre. Take time to admire the marionettes displayed on the wall.

Gavin Lawrence (Langston Hughes) in Carlyle Brown & Company's production of Are You Now or Have You Ever Been ... by Carlyle Brown. Directed by Noël Raymond. Photo by Charissa Uemura

In the 1950s, there was a contingent in American politics with an intense fear of the rise of communism, fueled by the belief that communist infiltrators were everywhere, trying to bring down the American way of life. Headed up by Senator Joe McCarthy, this paranoia led to a systematic harassment of many of the country’s most acclaimed entertainers and artists. Many of them had, at least at one time, been attracted to socialism and communism, believing it offered  the hope of a more just and equitable society, particularly for people of color. Poet Langston Hughes was one of those.

In Carlyle Brown’s play, “Are You Now or Have You Ever Been …” Hughes has just been subpoena’s by the U.S. Senate to appear at a hearing, headed up by Sen. Joe McCarthy. He is struggling with writing a poem, Georgia Dusk, distracted by the fact that he doesn’t even know exactly why he has been served. “That line is blank,” he notes.

With Hughes poems, projected on a floor to ceiling scrim and scrolling behind him, we share in the frustration these artists, such as Hughes, must have felt attempting to explain the virtually unexplainable—how art speaks to us, what a poem means, where a poem comes from—to men who take all things literally and out of context.

Writers are “the canaries in the coal mine,” he tells us. “When they come for the writers, you could be next.” This was not only true, it served to throw the danger of the era’s paranoid thinking right in the lap of the audience from the outset.

The bulk of the play is a one-man show, with Gavin Lawrence as Hughes revealing many more things about himself and his writing life. But these are the context in which his poems are born, and the context that the Senate committee, late in the play, does not have the patience to hear. Lawrence is wonderfully engaging as the writer. Broke and at odds with other well-known Black writers, he types a line of poetry, rips it out of the typewriter, crumples it and throws it away, until at last he gets one line, and then another and another. In between he reflects on his place in the artistic life of the country – not just among “Negroes.” He recognizes the need to be able to speak to White people, too – something Whites never have to think about, he says. Lawrence’s performance of Hughes poems is reason enough to see this show. He really makes the poetry live!

Hughes’ appearance at the hearing is necessary to conclude the story, but it is not what this play is about. In fact, as good as the actors were, particularly Steve Hendrickson as Senator Dirksen, the hearing itself almost seemed like a different play. Staging the committee behind the black scrim, elevated and encased in their desks and behind their microphones, set up the distance between these two “sides.” But Hughes never faces them down. Furthermore, Hughes’ attorney, played by Brown, must sit, with only one line to deliver, for the entire time facing the audience. I think another means of staging this scene could have made it far more dramatic – perhaps with Hughes full back down center. That would have said something completely different.

Presented at the Guthrie’s Dowling Studio Theater through May 20. Produced by Carlyle Brown & Company. Recommended.

Katie Adducci and Company in Pippi Longstocking. Photo by Dan Norman.

Brosius takes the energy level to 11 and leaves it there for long stretches.  No one taps anyone on the shoulder without a scream and pratfall.  The two bungling burglars, Bloom and Thunder (played brilliantly – as always – by Dean Holt and Reed Sigmund), are so over-the-top they make the Three Stooges look Chekhovian.  Autumn Ness‘s Mrs. Prysselius (one of the finest character names in theatrical history) is a bumbling and shrieking hoot and a half.  She tries so hard to be nasty you want to kiss her on the nose.  The lovely Elizabeth Griffin, wearing less make-up than I’ve ever seen, is adorable as Mrs. Settergren (whose descendents opened a chain of hardware stores in Minneapolis).  Gerald Drake, bless him, plays the teacher with subtlety and wonderfully goofy, what-the-heck spirit.

One might disagree with Brosius’s broad (and often exhausting) approach, arguing that it devalues the story’s emotional richness.  Still, without question, the fun factor here is high.  The opening night audience had a grand time.

Pippi Longstocking is based on a series of books composed in the 1940s by Astrid Lindgren.  Lindgren’s Pippi is considered by many to be a proto-feminist, ruthlessly rude to pompous adults, but deferent to grown-ups who treat her with respect.  Of the latter category there are few in the CTC play (arguably the teacher).  Pippi lives on her own (in the famous Villa Villekula, with her monkey Mr. Nilsson and her gentle horse).  She makes friends with the ultra-earnest Tommy and Annika, waxes mean and then some with the adults, and pines for her absent father (a “seafarer” in the books; a pirate in the play).  Personally I found the ending, in which Pippi chooses to stay, rather than to sail off with Dad and his argh-ing band of colorful cohorts, unconvincing and confusing.  What does Pippi get, I wondered, from Annika and Tommy that would make her reject her father?  Still, as reviewer I am obligated to report that the theater was filled with sniffles and quiet oohs and ahs as Pippi made her wrenching choice.

This is the 6th CTC iteration of Pippi Longstocking; the first was in 1982.  I really hope that, for the 7th, the theater commissions a new adaptation.  The book, by Thomas W. Olson, is repetitive and the music, by Roberta Carlson, plodding.  The play is too long by at least twenty minutes.

So: find some children and go.  Kids with some familiarity with Astrid Lindgren’s books will have an especially good time; you would be behooven to do some preparatory reading-out-loud.  There is enough creativity and intelligence in the performances to keep you entertained as well.

For more information about John Olive, please go to his (updated) website.

Mamma Mia! North American Tour 2010. Pictured: Kaye Tuckerman. Photo: Joan Marcus 2010

The pitch for the Broadway touring production of Mamma Mia! is “You already know you’re gonna love it!” Judging by the opening night audience, at the Orpheum Theatre in downtown Minneapolis, I’d say that’s fairly accurate. A good portion of the audience was laughing before the gag and applauding an entrance before it happened. This show is on its way to achieving a fan base reserved for productions that seem to live on almost indefinitely. If you have already seen it, I am comfortable assuring you that it will meet or exceed your expectations. If you haven’t (I hadn’t) let me tell you what your in for.

Great Abba songs. It was odd for me to hear them telling a different story than the one that played in my head when I heard the originals, but it was gratifying to know that these songs really do hold up.

A wacky premise and contrived plot. For musical theater (updated a bit), it’s a perfect fit. Sure, we can see the ending coming, but it’s so satisfying that there’s nothing left but to sit back and be entertained, and isn’t that the point?

A curtain call that loads on the frosting. Just when you think it’s peaked out on costume changes and high-energy production numbers, it tops itself. Again. If you can’t take it, stick with plain yoghurt.

Charming, likeable characters. Well, of course. Who would go see a musical without them? Chloe Tucker as Sophie is fresh and sweet; her beau Sky (Happy Mahaney) is immature and irresistible; Kaye Tuckerman as Donna, Sophie’s tough, independent mom, shone in her private moments, delivering a powerhouse performance in “The Winner Takes It All,” in particular.

Donna’s former boyfriends (one of whom is Sophie’s dad) nicely set up the dilemma and provided ample excuses for physical schtick. Harry (Paul Deboy) and Bill (John-Michael Zuerlein) had instant appeal; Christian Whelan as Sam just didn’t seem like a fit for me: wrong voice for pop music and not much for sparks with Donna.

But Alison Ewing as Tanya and Mary Callanan as Rosie, Donna’s friends who show up for Sophie and Sky’s wedding, had a special chemistry going. Both powerhouse singers—together or apart—they lit up the stage.

You should also know that you will be hit over the head with the jokes. Repeatedly and emphatically. Every possible opportunity for broad (and low) humor was utilized, particularly if it could be highly choreographed. There is little rest from this until the play’s more serious moments, but apart from a lovely and brief show opener, that’s in Act II. If you laugh at this stuff, you already know you’re gonna love it.

Mamma Mia runs through April 29^th. Recommended for hardcore Broadway musical buffs.

Terry Hempleman, Amy MacDonald, Andy Rocco Kraft . Photo: Kevin McLaughlin

The Mill, a new play by International Falls, Minn., native Jeannine Coulombe presented at The Playwrights’ Center by The Workhaus Collective, looks at what it really means to live in a town that is dependent on one major industry and employer for its survival. The town’s history with its life support, a paper mill run by Boise, has been pocked with controversy, including strikes, union busting and violence. Its story has all the makings for intense drama: friendships suffered, families were divided and young people faced a changing hometown with confused emotions. This last point Coulombe addressed most effectively.

Rick (Andy Rocco Kraft) is home from college to spend the summer with his parents, Marty (Terry Hempleman) and Beth (Amy McDonald Morrison). His girlfriend, Callie (Katherine Moeller) took her old summer job back just to be home with him. The conflict for them is almost archetypal: the tug of the “the big world out there,” represented by the city (Duluth), versus the familiarity and loyalty for one’s hometown. Callie, who lives with her single mom, is ready for something more in life, but Rick is caught up in impending trouble at the mill, where his dad has worked for 36 years. The union will vote soon on whether or not they will support a planned expansion. The project is seen as a line in the sand with the union, a kind of with-us-or-against-us maneuver by the paper manufacturing giant.

 The action is set in Marty and Beth’s backyard, where Marty is trying to finish a gazebo for Beth “with a refrigerator for pop” by the 4^th of July. This functions as a device to present the varying opinions among friends. Emotions flare up concerning the impending vote, oppressing them like the uncharacteristic June heat. Case (Eric Webster) is helping Marty with the gazebo. He’s a hothead and a redneck who feels compelled to “stand up for something,” but simply creates more trouble. Beth’s pal, Luce (Jodi Kellogg) helps Beth plant flowers while the two discuss the mill, the young people and dance around their differing feelings.

The drama that surely was inherent in the town’s larger story was, however, missing from this one – even with the entrance late in the play of a new neighbor, Ignacio (James Rodriguez) – one of the workers for the out-of-state construction company hired by the mill. The presence of these outsiders fuels the locals’ frustrations and brings the conflict to a head, but even then we only hear about it later. The play’s best moments are when we are actually in the moment – Rick finally opens up to Callie (in two different scenes) and Ignacio returns to Marty’s backyard with a gentle confrontation (although the scene following with Rick was superfluous).

This is a very capable cast, but Hempleman as the husband who mostly stuffs his feelings is simply wonderful. I grew up in a small Minnesota town, too, and I knew people just like the character Hempleman gave us. Kraft and Moeller were charming as the young couple, with a completely believable chemistry bubbling between them.

Generally, Coulombe’s play has the same backbone that holds up a small town, and she has nicely captured the language and rhythm that fits it. She’s been a little Minnesota-nice about the ugly side, though. There is a lot more passion available to her in this subject matter. The play runs through May 5. Recommended.

NOTE: The Workhaus Collective is a group of playwrights working in association with The Playwrights’ Center that brings to Twin Cities audiences the plays of its members. They pass around production duties in support of each others’ plays, which means that every play has the advantage of benefiting from the assistance of all. It’s a wonderful concept and – even better – it’s working.

Hope Cervantes, Aditi Kapil, Seth Tucker, Bonni Allen, Brian Skellenger and Jamie Elvey in Learn To Be Latina. Photo by Rich Ryan.

In the demented, clutch-popping and mud puddle shallow Learn To Be Latina (Mixed Blood Theatre, through May 13), by Enrique Urueta, a sweet-tempered, blissfully open Lebanese-American (clear emphasis on the latter), Hanan Mashalani, is informed that although she exhibits serious musical talent, her Arabic background will never do.  We will assume, since we’re all morons, that Hanan carries a bomb in her purse.  She needs fresh ethnicity.  Hm.  What to do.  Let’s ask nasty Mary.

Enter Mary O’Malley, ethnic consultant.  Ms. O’Malley is possessed of a thick north-of-Ireland brogue, a Señor Wences hand-puppet and a truly ugly orange wig.  She comes in seated in a moving barca-lounger, pushed by her manic assistants Jill, Bill and Will.  O’Malley opines that ethnicity “is as negotiable as a back alley hooker,” and although “black is great if you’re yellow,” Hanan won’t pass as African.  Ergo: she must become – drum roll – Latina.  Surely this will work – look at Salma and Shakira, both, after all, part-Lebanese.

Hanan (now Hanán) undergoes a 12 week Latina training, during which she receives a bogus background (“I was born in Buenos Aires”) and a slinky red dress with matching heels.  She earns a place on Elena’s frenetic (everything is frenetic in this play) talk-show on which, even after 12 weeks of training, she mispronounces “Aires” (it’s a tough word).

Learn To Be Latina repeats a pattern: just as Hanan is about to say no, I want nothing to do with this ethnicity-shifting nonsense, Mary O’Malley holds out the glittering promise of fame and fortune.  Hanan salivates and soldiers on.

Finally, though, she meets the play’s saving grace: the lovely Blanca.  Hanan and Blanca (called by the other characters, for unfathomable reasons, Office Bitch) fall in love and their sweet passion is a wonder.  We are admonished, in a sign in the Mixed Blood lobby, to “check [our] puritan ethics at the door.”  My guess is that this refers to the exuberant and ardent kissing done by these two women.  I found it enchanting and I found Mary’s reaction (“You will write 1000 times ‘Good Latinas don’t eat cunt’”) more than a little offensive.

As Blanca, Hope Cervantes, wholesome, charming and astonishingly appealing, very nearly steals the show.  I thanked the great god Thespis every time she walked onstage.  Jamie Elvey as Hanan is similarly wonderful.  Her unflagging sweetness in the face of Mary’s unrelenting meanness keeps the play moving.  As Mary, Aditi Kapil is gruesomely effective, giving this disagreeable character size and genuine power.  Her brogue is excellent.  Good performances are also given by Bonni Allen, Seth Tucker and Brian Skellenger as, respectively, Jill, Will and Bill.  It took a great deal of skill for their timing to be so spot on.  And George Keller excels as the high-pitched Elena.

I’m worried about Mixed Blood; they have now presented two vapid, poorly constructed and unfunny farces in a row.  This is the theater that produced the magisterial Ruined and the Kapil’s terrific and pyrotechnic Agnes Under The Big Top.  They will shortly announce their 12-13 season.  Let’s hope they get themselves back on track.

For more info about John Olive, please visit his website.

To their credit, co-writers Tom Broadbent and Jerry Seifert put together a production team, headed up by producers Jim Foltz (Tyrol Hills Music) and Kurt Larsen that gathered the resources and absolutely top-notch talent, ironed out logistics and made it happen. I am impressed with that.  Their new show, Deal! The Musical opened at the Ritz Theater in Northeast last night and will run through May 6. Joshua James Campbell directs.

The story is set in small-town Minnesota during the 1950s and 1960s. A poor couple, Art (Jon Andrew Hegge) and Elsie (Laurie Flanigan-Hegge), struggle to raise their two teenaged daughters, Julie (Aly Westberg) and Audrey (Lizzie Schwarzrock). Julie wants to go to college, a notion her mother mocks, but their dad, with his own dream of a little farm, favors his “Angel,” perhaps because he has some hope that she will make it. There is no reason to believe that he ever will.

Time is passed by regular poker games with friends and family, a device that serves to unfold the story line and reveal how this ritual holds them together through life’s ordinary events and extraordinary trials. Oscar (David Roberts) drinks too much, which suits his floosy girlfriend, Millie (Kim Kivens), just fine. She drinks, we ultimately learn, to forget a tragic loss at a young age. Kivens is blessed with the most interesting character, which she plays with good humor and finesse. Pearl (Catherine Battocletti) is Elsie’s old friend and a recent widow. Max Wojtanowicz plays the awkward prom date who blossoms into a sensitive husband for Julie. The cast of characters makes for a colorful mix of personalities who clash now and then, but it never threatens to dismantle the game or their relationships.

The mother, Elsie is so out of touch with her own feelings that hard work substitutes for showing affection for her daughters. In her world just paying the bills constitutes a successful life, and it’s probably all you really deserve. Audrey bucks the family bias against Catholics and marries one – a conflict that is quickly dissipated by Elsie’s recorded voice telling Art, basically, to get over it. Nothing seems to faze her – good or bad – which works both ways. Of all the characters, Elsie certainly had the most potential to truly be a fully developed protagonist and drive a conflict from beginning to end. Had we experienced everyone else’s stories from her perspective, we would have had much more invested in her emotionally and the ending would have been enormously satisfying, rather than a tidy little wrap-up.

The idea for this show is brimming with potential for rich emotional content, all of which gets a nod now and then, but with eight characters telling their own stories and tackling their own demons, there is little time to develop a powerful narrative to which we feel connected, long for the same things that a protagonist wants, and are then rewarded in the end.

In this play, the stories of all eight characters intersect without any one of them going very far. All the characters get “a moment” to illuminate their perspectives in a ballad, which means there were lots of ballads. There were musical ideas that should be noted:  Clint’s Dancing in Love changed up the rhythm and was quite lovely, we were charmed by Schwarzrock’s My Catholic Boy, and Kim Kivens’ Lord’s Prayer was memorable, although the setup for a song that powerful was thin.

Some “wants” are not introduced until late in the play, some wants are not addressed adequately after that point, and some are resolved somewhat superficially. This may be the way life really is, but in two-plus hours it’s hard to get an audience to love the characters as much as they deserve.  

 NOTE: This is a great little happenin’ neighborhood. Make plans to enjoy one or more of the local establishments within a about a block of the theater before or after the show.

Jeannine Coulombe

It doesn’t rain but it pours: playwright Jeannine Coulombe has two major productions opening within a week.  The first, The Mill, produced by Workhaus Collective, performing (as always) at the Playwrights Center, opens this Friday, April 20 and closes May 5.  Jeannine’s second play, Where The Mountain Meets The Moon, an adaptation for young audiences of the popular Grace Lin novel, opens at Stages Theatre Company in Hopkins, opening April 27 and closing May 20.  We recently caught up with the playwright at a coffee shop.  Jeannine talks about her plays with a calm but very infectious passion.

HowWasTheShow: What’s The Mill about?

Jeannine Coulombe: The play is based on a real event.  In International Falls, in 1989, there was a union riot.

There’s a paper mill in town, Boise Cascade, it’s been in operation since 1909.  In the 80s, at a time when a lot of manufacturing was shutting down – mines, taconite processing plants – Boise Cascade decided to expand and enlarge the mill.  They hired a non-union general contractor, BE&K, to do the work.  And they asked for a “more flexible” union contract.  It was an obvious attempt to undermine the power of the local union.

International Falls is a strong union town.  Of the 6,000 residents, 2,000 worked at the mill.  The threat was that if the union didn’t buckle under the company would leave.  So here was the quandary: accept the contract, or destroy the town.

The union decided to act: they stormed the “man-camp” (as it was called) of non-union construction workers and destroyed it.  Several security guards were injured.

HWTS: But no one was killed.

JC: No.  There was a strong sense that the Beekers – that’s what everyone called the employees of BE&K – were “the other”.  They were from the South, many were African American, Spanish-speaking.

The union chose to riot.

HWTS: You’re from International Falls.

JC: Yes

HWTS: Are any of the characters in the play based on people you know?

JC:  Not really.  No.  Like everyone from the town I have a strong connection to the mill.  My father, my step-father, my uncles all worked there.  But the central characters of The Mill are fictitious: a man who’s been working at Boise Cascade for 36 years, and his family.  The play takes place entirely in his backyard.  It goes from Monday to Sunday.  The style is very realistic – a change for me.  No ghosts, no time-jumping.

I’ve been working on The Mill for 10 years, ever since 9/11.  It’s my most personal play and the most political.  The play focuses on the effects of larger economic development on regular people.  It’s a hugely important issue and I think the timing is right – look at what’s happening in Wisconsin.

HWTS: How long have you been connected to Workhaus?

JC: Since its inception, 6 years ago.  I was one of the founders of Theatre Unbound, but then I had a baby and decided I didn’t have time.  But when Workhaus came along I couldn’t resist.  It’s the only theater in the cities that focuses on playwrights.  I love the collective approach.  Whosever play is being produced is the artistic director.  So I chose the director, [Matt Sciple], I was there for auditions.  We take turns producing.  For my play Dom[inic Orlando] is doing PR, everyone works the box office.  I’m especially proud of the fact that 70% of Workhaus’s budget goes to paying artists.

HWTS: Where The Mountain Meets The Moon?

JC: A completely different process.  I got the commission last March, first draft was due May 31, rewrite was due July 1, etcetera.  The play adheres to the Stages tradition of taking children literature and turning it into exciting and unusual theater.  My play uses several non-realistic dramatic devices – for example, a play-within-the-play.  It’s a lovely book, the way Grace Lin weaves together traditional Chinese stories.  It’s being performed with al all-Asian cast.  Rick Shiomi (of Mu Performing Arts) is co-directing, along with Stages Theatre Co.’s artistic director Sandy Boren-Barret.