Hershey Felder as Irving Berlin @ The Cleveland Play House, June 7 to June 24

Hershey Felder as Irving Berlin @ The Cleveland Play House, June 7 to June 24

Review by Laura Kennelly

I think I met Irving Berlin last night (June 14). Well, that’s what it felt like after Hershey Felder channelled the great songwriter to a happy crowd at The Cleveland Play House’s Allen Theater. Felder, as Berlin, shared a well-presented selection of the composer’s greatest hits. (The prolific Berlin wrote over 1,000 songs during a career that spanned both World Wars, the Depression, FDR, JFK, and beyond so there’s no attempt to be comprehensive, but the musical numbers chosen did evoke their eras.)  

When the show opens, we see Berlin as an old man in a wheelchair (he died at 101 in 1988). Suddenly, years drop off, he stands up and starts telling his story. All he remembers of Russia was when he was five years old, hiding and watching his house burn down. His Jewish family emigrated to the United States and settled in New York (the city he never left) and began to create a new life.

As it turned out, the youngster was a natural musician with a gift for writing melody and lyrics. He made a good living (he learned early to keep the rights to everything forever) composing vaudeville ditties such as “My Wife’s Gone to the Country, Hurrah! Hurrah!” (1907) before moving on to fame and fortune writing musicals. He was a major figure in what became fondly remembered as the Golden Era of Musicals (i.e. the 1940s and 1950s) with shows such as “Holiday Inn,”  “Annie Get Your Gun,” and “Call Me Madam.” Almost as a side job he also wrote for Hollywood films (including the musical “White Christmas”). Felder offers short clips with Fred Astaire dancing and singing Berlin’s music.

It’s almost easier to say what popular song from those years isn’t by Irving Berlin than to say what is. His hit songs include “White Christmas” (of course), “Puttin on the Ritz,” “There’s No Business Like Show Business,” “Heat Wave,” “Blue Skies,” “Always,” and “I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm.” And, of course, “God Bless America” made famous by Kate Smith in 1938.

Felder, who accompanies himself on the piano for most songs, inserts clips and quips to keep things moving briskly along, but be warned, there’s no intermission and it gets long--music-packed, but long. The night I went, he asked for audience questions after the show--questions which proved amusing (“What do you think of critics?”) and informative (“What’s next?”).

Felder, who has already done (and still does) musical/theatrical recreations (such as this one) that focus on great composers such as Beethoven, Gershwin, Chopin, answered the last question by playing a Debussy Arabesque.

Bottom Line: Fun time for summer evening.  It’s either a history lesson or a stroll down memory lane or both. Personally, it was a pleasure to remember (and even sing along--well, he invited us to at one point) the songs that first made a music theatre junkie out of me. And, by the way, June 24 at 6:30 p.m. there will be an extra show: One of Felder’s Great American Songbook/Sing-along performances where the audience joins in all the time.

The Royale @ The Cleveland Play House, May 5 to May 27, 2018

Photo: Roger Mastroianni

The Royale @ Playhouse Square, May 5 to May 27, 2018

Review by Laura Kennelly

Boxing and boxers rule in Marco Ramirez’s The Royale now playing at the Cleveland Play House’s Outcalt Theatre at Playhouse Square through May 27th. Directed by Robert Barry Fleming, the award-winning drama--two Obies, a Drama Desk, and an Outer Critics Circle Award--centers on the battle in the early 1900s to integrate the World Heavyweight Championship, in other words, to allow an African-American to fight the white champ.

As theater lights dimmed, atmospheric fog crept out from under the boxing ring placed in the middle of the in-the-round seating. The spare and effective scenic design by Jason Ardizonne-West evoked George Bellow’s 1909 painting, “Stag at Sharkey’s.” (See it in the Cleveland Museum of Art.)

In the small Outcalt space, boxing became a ballet--and thankfully, a bloodless one--with a carefully executed choreography, steps highlighted by feints, punches, and recoils. Blows and shouts represented by finger snaps and foot stomps furnished a major metaphor for life experienced both inside and outside the ring.

The Royale brought out the audacity of boxer Jay “the Sport” Jackson, who aspired to be named World Heavyweight Champion, not just Negro Heavyweight Champion (a title he already held). While inspired by the true story of boxer Jack Johnson in his battle against segregated boxing titles and his successful bid to become World Champion in the early 1900s, the story also spoke to today’s struggles. (True history side note:  take a look via YouTube at the techniques Johnson used to dominate the sport . . . fascinating.)

The outstanding cast of five, some in multiple roles, fought, negotiated, defied, taunted each other, all the while redefining their place in the world. As Jay Jackson, Preston Butler III (all muscles and six-pack abs) looked and acted every bit the confident champion. Nikkole Salter, as his sister Nina, evoked the thoughtful presence of women who always try to hold things together. Brian D. Coats, as Jackson’s trainer Wynton, offered wry and earnest advice to the boxer. Johnny Ramery, as young Fish, brought bounce to his role as Jackson’s opponent and then sparring partner. Leo Marks primarily played Max, the boxer’s manager, but also effectively, sometimes amusingly, also played all the white guys necessary to the plot.

The Royale benefited from era-appropriate costumes by Toni-Leslie James, spot-on lighting design by Alan C. Edwards, and very subtle sound design by Jane Shaw. (Shaw might have made the fight sounds even harsher, more percussive and jarring.) Pretty good dialects overseen by coach Michael Morgan brought further richness to the production.

The final scene of this short play was unexpected, a dramatic surprise, and one that brought a telling finale. It was not a kumbaya ending by any means. The only negative observation may also be a positive one: the play was too short, too much a sketch. There was much more (some suggested by a gorgeous fur coat the boxer wore for one entrance) to be explored about these characters and their interactions.

Bottom Line: Often we see dramas where an individual pays a high price for being an agent of change, as Martin Luther King did in CPH’s Katori Hall’s The Mountaintop in 2016. In Ramirez’s poetic work, the price of one individual’s proving his superiority is paid by nameless others who are punished in his stead. As the boxer’s sister warns: "Look at the dogs you're about to unleash. And when it happens, don't say I didn't warn you." I’d like to see a  fuller drama centered on (as in Macbeth, for example) the price of ambition--even if, as in this case, it’s just a small part of a much larger social movement.

Misery at Great Lakes TheaterFebruary 10, 2018

Photos by Roger Mastroianni

Well played, Great Lakes Theater! Misery, Stephen King’s 1987 best-selling thriller, is anything but misery-inducing, thanks to William Goldman’s dramatic adaptation now playing at the Hanna Theatre. Bravo to Charles Fee’s insightful direction, the fine cast and some terrific special effects. Misery had opening night viewers wincing in sympathetic pain one minute, terrorized another and laughing in the next (yes, there’s humor there).

The setup: During a winter storm, writer Paul Sheldon (Andrew May) author of the adored Misery Chastain series of romance novels (think Nora Roberts, Georgette Heyer or even Jane Austen) accidentally slides off the icy road and is trapped in his car.  He’s rescued despite a raging snow storm by the stalwart  Annie Wilkes (Kathleen Pirkl Tague) who takes him home and sets his broken legs.

That’s the backstory. Sheldon awakes to find Annie caring for him and learns she’s a nurse as well as a devoted reader of the Misery series. She is, she confides, his “Number One” fan. When Annie learns he has a new Misery Chastain romance, she quickly buys it, reads it and trouble starts: she insists that he rewrite it to her taste.  Sheldon’s relief that he’s being taken care of turns to terror when, eventually, he realizes that she intends to keep him “safe” forever. May, without undue histrionics, absorbs us into Sheldon’s plight as he brilliantly reveals his character’s  creative mind as well as his desperation. We want him to be saved; we are not sure he can be.

Tague’s Annie is a no-nonsense kind of gal who radiates a brilliant streak of crazy and sells her character’s insanity so carefully that we can’t really believe she’s going to do what she does. She just seems so “nice,” fixing him up a bed, nursing him, feeding him. But — just be glad if you don’t have any Number One fans. Trust us, you don’t want them.

Things look worse and worse. Eventually we pin our hopes on Nick Steen as Buster, the local sheriff, who is friendly, but nobody’s fool. But then things go awry in an explosive scene involving the whole cast (all three of them).

It’s an excellent production overall — what we’ve come to expect at Great Lakes. Costumes (Alex Jaeger), lighting design (Paul Miller), sound (Josh Schmidt) and especially special effects (Jason Tate) all hit just the right note. The cleverly designed set by scenic designer Gage Williams allows us to see both inside the house and outside.

The coolest thing about this play is that it’s funny. Maybe you have to be an aspiring novelist (raises hand) to think it funny, but a certain humor vibrates throughout. What if fans could capture their favorite authors and make them write things over? (If I could I’d drag Anna Karenina off the tracks, cure Beth March and save Snape.) While the  play (and the 1990 film) isn’t as violent as the novel, don’t bring the toddlers.

On the bright side, the story still can serve as a counterbalance to one’s unbridled wishes for fame and fortune. The idea ricochets inescapably around the plot that sometimes when you get what you want, it’s not what you want after all.

BOTTOM LINE: Happiness, not misery, at the Hanna. There were gasps of horror in the audience around me, but there were also soft chuckles and “ooos.” This outstanding production and its fine cast creates a dark comic horror and brings a wonderful theatrical escape from winter’s gloom.

Appeared in Cool Cleveland (Feb. 20, 2018)

Love Never Dies @ Playhouse Square, Jan. 9--28, 2018

Review by Laura Kennelly

Phantom of the Opera fans rejoice! No chandeliers fall, but the mysterious Phantom still holds dangerous powers. Music still means love. Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Love Never Dies, running until January 28 at Playhouse Square’s Key Bank State Theatre, reveals the tortured genius at work (I mean the Phantom, of course).

The show calls on the varied talents of a large creative team: lyrics by Glenn Slater and Charles Hart; book by Webber, Ben Elton, Glenn Slater, and Frederick Forsyth, and orchestration by Webber and David Cullen. Although it opened in London’s West End in 2010, Love still hasn’t made it to Broadway.

But never mind. It’s got Broadway-style flash and dazzle. Despite a few dubious plot twists (but what fan of Phantom cares about that?) the capable cast blazes through the romantic, telenovela drama. If you’ve not seen The Phantom of the Opera then please see it first: all will then become clear when you see Love Never Dies.

One might quibble over whether it’s “love” or “obsession” that never dies, but hey--it’s an old-school, romantic musical. Some songs, such as “The Beauty Underneath” and “Once Upon Another Time” offer pleasant memories of the original show.

Back to the plot. It’s been ten years since the Phantom disappeared. Now a world-famous opera singer, Christine Daaé (rich-voiced Meghan Picerno) has married her Raoul (a mercurial Sean Thompson) and they have a ten-year-old son, Gustave. (Gustave's part is double cast and the night I went it was handled with stunning clarity and impressive vocal range by Jake Heston Miller.)

The family arrives in New York after she’s invited to perform at Phantasma at Coney Island for a huge sum at the invitation of a well-known impresario. And that’s where the spooky left me. Coney Island? Place of fun, swims, hot dogs, and muscle builders? Just sounds like fun, not menace (though I know anywhere can be).

Gardar Thor Cortes, as The Phantom (yes, of course he shows up), seems so suave and kind (and he has such a beautiful tenor/baritone voice) that one wonders why Christine didn’t get over the mask phobia faster. He’s still manipulative, so we can’t give him a pass.

The Coney Island setting is a great excuse though for the second most entertaining performer in the show (the first being Miller’s Gustave). To call stuntwoman Katrina Kemp (who plays Fleck) diminutive and cute misses the point: she’s that, but she’s also an athletic dynamo with excellent timing (she debuted in showbiz playing Chucky the Killer Doll at Universal Studios).

Kemp and trio partners Richard Koons (as the chubby Squelch) and Stephen Petrovich (as the tall Gangle) do their best to turn Coney Island into a place of fun mixed with mystery. I’m not sure how they fit into the story, but I really don’t care. It’s a pleasure to see their teamwork.

Other characters include bossy Madame Giry (Karen Mason) and her daughter, the insecure Meg Giry (Mary Michael Patterson).

Marvelous set and costume design by Gabriela Tylesova (including a stage-filling gown that makes Christine look like a peacock), a fine orchestral score ably directed by Dale Rieling, and eye-catching choreography performed by the nimble ensemble cast, all contribute mightily.

Bottom Line: It’s a fine night of entertainment if you already know and love the original show. Webber proves, however, that it’s hard to compete with yourself. It’s no Phantom of the Opera.

Side Note: Kudos to the RedCoat volunteers who calmly and competently ushered us out before the second act because smoke and fog used in the show had alarmed the Playhouse Square fire alarms. After about five minutes, they brought us back into the theatre. All clear. Thanks!

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The Diary of Anne Frank @ The Cleveland Play House, October 29, 2017

Review by Laura Kennelly

It’s both painful and important to realize that The Diary of Anne Frank is based on truth, not fiction. Drawn from incidents described in young Anne’s diary, this moving drama by Frances Goodrich and Albert Hackett (adapted by Wendy Kesselman) is currently onstage at PlayhouseSquare.

The Cleveland Play House production, directed by Laura Kepley, brilliantly places us into Anne’s hidden life in Amsterdam during 1942-1944, a time when Nazi forces sought out and killed millions of Jews throughout Europe (as they had done from the beginning of World War II). Anne’s diary, found after her death, chronicled what happened when she and her family, as well as another couple, their son and a family friend spent two years hidden in a secret upper floor.

The claustrophobic possibilities of the intimate Outcalt Theatre’s stadium seating draw us in and fine acting keeps us watching and hoping — against all prior knowledge — that this time Anne and her attic family will escape. They don’t.

The whole cast stays in character and onstage even during intermission, reading, mending, doing laundry, getting dental work done (one hopes not really — looked painful), and napping, adding to the impression that one is watching history happen.

The audience sits on three sides, with those in the first row actually seeming to be part of Anne’s household prison. Much credit should be given to scenic designer Robert Mark Morgan for creating an abstract, yet realistic, upper room. Beds, clothes, kitchen, sink, tables all speak of lives lived in poverty and fear. The audience is surrounded by barbed wire and wooden beams, harsh reminders of prison and wartime. Lighting by Mary Louise Geiger, costumes by David Kay Mickelsen and sound by Daniel Perelstein all contribute to the play’s somber mood.

Anne Frank was only thirteen when she went into hiding. Annie Fox as Anne offers a spirited performance that makes it clear that in hiding or not, Anne Frank is a lovably complex person, unsure about what to do with her intellect (she dreams of being a journalist) or her budding sexual maturity (early printed editions of the diary omitted her sexual curiosity and her intermittent dislike of her older sister and her mother). Fox’s passionate and volatile Anne at one point shouts “I have a better side.”

She adores her father (a kindly Rick D. Wasserman), shouts at her stressed-out mother (a nervous yet generous Lise Bruneau), stomps around the attic and is often impatient with her older sister (a steadfast Sarah Cuneo). As time passes Anne develops a crush on fellow teen Peter Van Daan (an obligingly polite Yaron Lotan). Lotan’s Peter is as naive as Anne and their stolen moments in the upper room’s attic bring innocent joy to both.

Others in hiding with them are Peter’s parents. His mother cannot face their new reality and clings to her luxurious fur coat (Laura Perrotta convincingly conveys her as a woman on the edge). His father (a secretive Bruce Winant) reveals serious character flaws. The family dentist Mr. Dussel (a fussy, grumpy Lee Wilkof ) also lives with them.

The brave Miep Gies (an open and friendly Amy Fritsche) risks her life and that of her family to smuggle food to the seven in the attic. In addition, it was she who preserved Anne’s diary. Other characters include “Mr. Kraler” (a helpful Tom Woodward) who assists Miep Gies. (“Kraler” is a pseudonym for Victor Kugler whose real name was not published in the original diary.) Paul Bugallo, Randy Merrill and Peter Hargrave play Nazi enforcers, concentration camp guards (they guard us at one point), and nosy neighbors.

Anne herself never knew that her simple diary would make her famous and that millions would love her and mourn her loss. In her diary she wrote, “I finally realized that I must do my schoolwork to keep from being ignorant, to get on in life, to become a journalist, because that’s what I want! I know I can write …, but it remains to be seen whether I really have talent …”

I think we can safely say “Yes.”

BOTTOM LINE: A fine and moving production of what is now a classic.

Apollo’s Fire: 50 ways to leave your lover @ St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, November 11

Review by Laura Kennelly

Apollo’s Fire brought a new (although this wonderful ensemble often brings something new) offering to music lovers last weekend (November 9-12). Early English love songs performed by tenor Nicholas Phan and a small ensemble showed us that love has ever been problematic. Provocatively titled “50 ways to leave your lover, or A Painted Tale,” the program featured songs from the 16th and 17th centuries. They combined to recreate feelings swirling around a young man’s love, the delicious object of said love, his terribly broken heart, and his subsequent death.

In brief introductory remarks, Phan characterized his selections as “a greatest hits breakup playlist” and thanked Apollo’s Fire founder, Jeannette Sorrell, for “letting me play in her sandbox.” And “play” he did, singing with beautiful diction, precision, and feeling over a dozen sweet, angry, and sentimental songs that survived a turbulent era of British history.

Phan, with a voice sometimes honey sweet, sometimes forceful, all contained within the grey stone walls of the church, made us believe we had somehow travelled back to England. It was a beautiful program (although I’m surely glad not to have endured living in those days).

In addition to doing a splendid job accompanying Phan, ensemble members Johanna Novom and Evan Few (violin), René Schiffer and Ann Marie Morgan (viola da gamba and cello), and William Simms and Charles Weaver (lutes, guitar, and theorbo), also played selections from William Lawes’ The Royal Consort. The stem of the theorbo stretched so long and high that one wondered if at times it might not also have been used as a defensive weapon (keeping fans at bay, perhaps?).

On Saturday night, Phan also treated the audience to a lovely encore: the Whitney-Houston-made-famous “I Will Always Love You.” Phan made a great (and deliberate) point with his encore choice: our generation did not invent love’s delights and woes. The poets and composers Phan selected celebrated it (“My thoughts are winged with hopes,” John Dowland), fretted over it (“O turn not those fine eyes away,” John Blow), and despaired of it (“Not all my torments can your pity move,” Henry Purcell).

The sedate setting with soaring ceiling contributed to the mood inspired by centuries-old songs as they were enlivened and made relatable to today by Phan’s exceptional vocal technique and the Apollo’s Fire Ensemble’s traditionally excellent playing.

It’s too late for this program, but it’s not too late to catch the Apollo’s Fire Christmas fest (yes, this is a plug). It’s a new program created by Jeannette Sorrell: “Christmas on Sugarloaf Mountain: An Irish-Appalachian Gathering.” It features Amanda Powell (soprano), Ross Hauck (tenor), the Apollo’s Singers, and the Sugarloaf Mountain players. (Not to mention, free ginger cake and cider after the concert.)

For tickets and concert locations around town, see apollosfire.org or call 216-320-0012.

Wicked @ Playhouse Square, Nov. 8--Dec. 3, 2017

Review by Laura Kennelly

Magic still sparkles in Wicked: The Untold Story of the Witches of OZ. This brilliant production once again has returned to Playhouse Square (possibly for the fifth time), but then consider, this Tony-Award winner has been on Broadway since 2003 (and it’s still playing there). The time-tested winning concoction, created by Stephen Schwartz (music and lyrics), Winnie Holzman (book), and Joe Mantello (director) enchants, amuses, and entertains. The touring version, thanks to its all-round excellent cast, good small orchestra plus adept mechanics, offers Cleveland a dashing Broadway-quality production.

Imagine taking a favorite story, The Wizard of Oz (by L. Frank Baum), later made into a film classic, and then turning the whole familiar story inside out. That’s akin to what novelist Gregory Maguire did when he created the Wicked storyline from plot threads in Baum’s original.  

Wicked shows nothing directly about Dorothy Gale, but she figures significantly in the story anyway--just around the corner and up the yellow brick road. If, by chance, you are like me and have never seen the show or read Maguire’s book then I don’t want to spoil the delightful surprises in store for you. (In the past, I had avoided the show, on principle, I suppose and indulging in “How dare they mess with the Oz series” and other foolish thoughts.)

So I can testify as one who comes to it fresh. And folks, I loved it even before the curtains parted. A giant dragon head with flashing eyes crowned the stage, making it look rather like a Viking ship and a green stage curtain centered with sparkling emeralds promised Oz delights.

Blonde and beautiful Glinda the Good comes bubbling down from the sky to begin the story. Ginna Claire Mason’s Glinda moves delightfully from airhead narcissist to one who just might be a good queen some day. Her “Popular” brings back memories of “Legally Blonde’s” Elle and everyone else who ever won prom queen back in the day.

Elphaba, her green-skinned classmate is just a bit different, but Mary Kate Morrissey makes her appealing and vulnerable. Morrissey’s vocal range is also impressive as she sustains note  high and low, especially in ”No Good Deed.” Mason and Morrissey sell the closing duet, “For Good,” like two who really believe its “feel good” message..

The whole cast (including the monkeys) clambers, dances, and scrambles entertainingly  along the way as they sketch out the full stories of the wizard, the tin man, the scarecrow, and even a bit of  the cowardly lion. Susan Hilferty’s costumes are beautiful, though the citizens of Oz look a lot like those in District One in The Hunger Games (but Wicked came first).

Bottom Line: A classy production with an excellent cast. No wonder denizens of Northern Ohio love this show and return to Oz time and time again.