Summer: The Donna Summer Musical at Playhouse Square

THEATER REVIEW: “Summer: The Donna Summer Musical @ Playhouse Square by Laura Kennelly

Photo by Matthew Murphy

Through Sun 10/27

This song-packed show at Playhouse Square’s Connor Theatre is designed to combine a tribute to Donna Summer, the “Disco Queen,” and the music she created. It delivers on the music. Anyone who grew up to the disco beat and the pop rock that followed might enjoy remembering “back in the day.” Certainly some in the audience opening night seemed to enjoy sharing smiles — perhaps remembering times past.

Directed by Des McAnuff, the musical features over 20 hit songs from disco and pop rock, strung together by a superficial bio of the superstar. An icon for decades, Summer died at age 63 in 2012. She was posthumously inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame the next year, so Cleveland seems a fitting location for the official media preview of the 2018 Broadway show’s national tour.

Bright lights and a pulsing beat, glittering costumes, and an impassioned team of dancers highlight the show. Three actress/vocalists convincingly portray Donna Summer and sing up a storm. There’s Dan’yelle Williamson, as the world-famous Diva Donna (when she’s not putting on a shawl and being Mary Gaines, Donna’s mother); Alex Hairston as the younger on-her-way-up-in-the-world Disco Donna; and Olivia Elease Hardy as Duckling Donna, the choir girl who learns about life the hard way. All three sing like angels — well, sexy angels in some cases, as when Summer records her first big hit, “Love to Love You Baby”). Other familiar songs include “Hot Stuff,”  “Bad Girls” and “She Works Hard for her Money.”

But all that is not enough to make Summer anything more than a paper-doll cut-out puppet display featuring old hits and young dancers. Donna Summer must have been a complex woman, but this book by Colman Domingo, Robert Cary and Des McAnuff only offers a Cliff’s Notes version of her resilience and talent. It’s not enough.

The sets were minimal (scenic design by Robert Brill) and the glittery costumes (by Paul Tazewell) usually outshone them. The three Donnas almost always wore blue so they were easy to spot. (Sorry to criticize the color, but Summer’s quoted in an interview for her 2008 album, Crayons, as saying that her favorite color is green. It would have looked better than the rather tired old basic primary color blue used in the show.) Sound design by Gareth Owen featured an appropriately throbbing bass (and wasn’t too loud — a big plus). I’m not sure whether it was sound design or real life, but early on cheers from the balcony sounded pre-recorded (and the diva’s response to them seemed rehearsed). No problem, just interesting.

BOTTOM LINE: It’s light as a feather (despite lip service to women’s rights and equal pay) compared to biographical musicals such as Funny Girl or Gypsy that make us care about their subject. However those who really enjoyed Jersey Boys or Motown may find themselves loving it and dancing. (BTW: There’s a party next door to the theater after every show.)

Review of The Music Man at Great Lakes Theater

THEATER REVIEW: “The Music Man” @ Great Lakes Theater by Laura Kennelly

Through Sun 11/10

How many ways to say “wonderful?” Meredith Willson’s beloved classic, The Music Man, now at Playhouse Square’s Hanna Theatre inspires a search for fresh adjectives to describe this lively look at small town life in 1912. Director Victoria Bussert and her cohorts make every minute engaging, from overture to triumphant finale.

The Music Man won Best Musical at the 1957 Tony Awards. In the right hands (and this Great Lakes production is), it’s still easy to see why: terrific score, romantic storyline, and engaging, loveable characters (even the villains turn loveable despite their villainy). It’s just fun to imagine living in 1912 River City, Iowa (at least in the Disneyfied version of Willson’s River City we see here).

Costumes by Tracy Christensen reflect turn-of-the-century small-town style with strait-laced, corseted (one imagines) ladies, gentlemen wearing fedoras, and kids with caps. A simple storefront scene (plus a tiny house porch and a bridge added when needed) designed by Jeff Herrmann is set off by lighting designer Jesse Klug.

To begin this nostalgic story, young Winthrop Paroo (Ian McLaughlin) walks onstage, sees a tiny xylophone, and with fewer than ten notes begins to play “Seventy-Six Trombones.” Hidden under the stage, a compact orchestra, attentively conducted by Nancy Maier (who also played keyboard), immediately picks up the theme and we’re off. Children skip around the stage as the music flows and  townspeople start their day. This brilliant opening kept the audience quiet during the overture. (OK, yes, talking during the overture is a pet peeve, so I appreciated the clever use of dancing children to snap our attention to the show.)

Then suddenly, some men set down suitcases, sit on them, and boom! We’re on a bouncy train listening to the pattering “Rock Island,” as suit-clad salesmen (plus a conductor) travel across the Midwest. When the train stops at River City, Iowa, a certain Harold Hill (Alex Syiek) steps off. He’s heard the men’s gossip and believes Iowa City is the perfect spot for his usual swindle. When he runs across his old friend Marcellus Washburn (Marcus Martin), he’s sure of it. Washburn agrees to come in on the scheme to sell music lessons, band uniforms and instruments to the townspeople and then skip with their money. Later, another salesman on the train, Charlie Cowell (Lynn Robert Berg), returns to try to stop Hill. Berg nicely conveys comic frustration when he’s not believed.

A charismatic charmer, Harold Hill convinces the townspeople that they need to save their children from the dangers of the new pool hall (“Ya Got Trouble”). He promises to save by teaching them to play band instruments.

The only real obstacle to his scheme is the town music teacher, Miss Marian Paroo (Jillian Kates), who will know he’s a fake. We learn a lot about both Marian and her mother, Mrs. Paroo (played by Carole Healey with perfect “mom speak”), while Marian teaches a lackluster student how to play note by note (“Piano Lesson”). Mother wants Marian to marry and does her best to encourage her teacherly daughter to look for a man in “If You Don’t Mind My Saying So.”

Yes, Hill and Marian fall for each other, but gradually and believably. As Hill, Syiek successfully portrays a con man surprised by genuine feeling for another. The chemistry between Syiek and Kates works to make us believe that Marian, who is no fool and soon realizes Hill is a phony, can reform Hill now that he has found joy in River City. When Kates’ lovely Marian sings “Till There Was You” and Syiek’s Hill joins in, we cross our fingers that what they dream of can come true. (Never mind that a real Harold Hill would get bored in River City in short order and that love can’t “fix” a person — that’s a different musical world, not Meredith Willson’s 1950s world.)

The constantly frustrated Mayor Shinn (a comic David Anthony Smith), owner of the ranted-about pool hall, keeps trying to get the city to check out Hill. Hill’s clever scheme to introduce the four civic authorities (Elijah Dawson, Enrique Miguel, Mack Sharilla and Boe Wank) to the joys of barbershop quartets distracts them. It also gives us a chance to hear “Lida Rose” and other classics. These gentlemen can’t stop singing, and we’re glad.

There’s fun too in River City that’s generated by the ladies, especially Jodi Dominick’s hapless, talentless Mayor’s wife Eulalie Shinn. Joining her in creating well-intended but comic classical “tableaux” and lots of gossip (“Pick-a-Little, Talk-a-Little”) are her enthusiastic lady friends (Shelby Griswold, Laura Welsh Berg, Jessie Cope Miller, and Erin Niebuhr).

The ladies and gentlemen also enjoy letting their hair down when Martin’s Washburn teaches them the “Shi-poo-pi.” Martin’s enthusiasm for “the latest dance” carries everyone along as he cavorts adroitly around the stage.

Aled Davies as the ineffectual Constable Locke who chases Hill brings laughs. Other ensemble members include Jahir Hipps who, along with Berg, Dawson, Miguel, Shirilla, Smith and Wank, plays one of the train-bounced salesmen in the first scene. (The music’s rhythm and their example had most of the audience rocking along with them.)

Children play a large role in The Music Man, especially Marian’s little brother, Winthrop, who gains confidence and loses his stutter when he sings “Gary, Indiana.” His belief in Hill’s “Think Method” does the trick. Other cute River City kids includes Marlowe Miller, Owen Mills, Avery Pyo, Brenna Sherman, August Sumlin, Sun-Hee Smith and Chase Christopher Zadd. Dressed in their new band uniforms, they have almost the last word with a rousing “Seventy-Six Trombones.” (Their parents think the squawks and blats they make sound wonderful. (Ah, yes. Parents.)

The show is packed with favorite and hummable tunes not mentioned above, such as “Good Night, My Someone” (Kates’ gorgeous soprano seems a perfect fit for this wistful wishing song) and “The Sadder-but-Wiser Girl” (Syiek’s eye rolls work well here as Hill promises he’s not looking for a “good girl”).

BOTTOM LINE: How to describe this show? It seems “wonderful” will just have to do. It offers something for every generation, so be sure to consider taking your child (or your parents) to see it. As an opening song “Iowa Stubborn,”  advises, “You really ought to give Iowa a try” — most especially this Great Lakes Iowa.

greatlakestheater

Review: Come From Away @ Playhouse Square

Come From Away @ Playhouse Square, July 10, 2019
Laura Kennelly (for Cool Cleveland)

Set in Newfoundland, Come from Away, now at Playhouse Square, explores what happened in one corner of the world after the  September 11, 2001 attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. Most of us can remember where we were and what we were doing when we heard the news on the day we now call “9/11.”

This engrossing, clever and mesmerizing production is every bit as good as the one I saw in New York two years ago. Written by Irene Sankoff and David Hein, it tells the 9/11 story from the viewpoint of those in Gander, Newfoundland, when air traffic was shut down for several days. No flying in or out of the United States stranded thousands.

Among those affected were nearly 7,000 people via 38 planes diverted to Gander (population 10,000). Come From Away, directed by Christopher Ashley, with  music supervision by Ian Eisendrath, creates a narrative based on true stories collected by Sankoff and Hein.

Packed with Gaelic tunes, rhythmic narrative, bar tunes and more, all delightful, it highlights hospitality offered by townspeople used to living “on the edge of the world on an island in the sea.” Love and unlove, strangers meeting and parting, all play a role as we are swept into this “side effect” that no one could have imagined or planned. It’s not sappy “feel-good junk songs either — but it did leave most of us feeling hopeful (even joyous) as we left the theater. (If I had more space I’d tell you about the lost cell phone returned by strangers after the show and all the good will it showed.)

As the opening song, “Welcome to the Rock,” reveals, one reason the Newfoundlanders managed the sudden population increase so well is that in addition to being used to hardships,  they also shared a great sense of humor. This came in handy when they buckled down to offer emergency housing and meals for thousands of (by now) crabby and scared passengers.

Why was so much help needed? Well, for one thing, all passenger baggage was locked inside the grounded planes, so ordinary necessities — think baby food, diapers, tampons, medicine (please never check necessary medicines) — had to be found. The people of Gander rallied and found space and provisions for the people (and even for the animals confined to the hold).

Brilliant musical staging (by Kelly Devine) and a functionally beautiful set (by Beowulf Boritt) add mightily to the show’s impact and wit as the cast swiftly moves chairs, tables, etc. when the story shifts from inside the planes to local bars, school gyms, and so on.  Thanks to this, it’s easy to see what’s happening no matter where you sit (seats in the top balcony, where I was in NYC) and in the front rows (where I was in the Connor Palace) are equally good.

The excellent onstage band, led by conductor Cynthia Kortman Westphal (who played keyboard, accordion, and harmonium), included whistles, Irish flute, Uilleann pipes (Isaac Alderson), a fiddle (Kiana June Weber), guitars (Adam Stoler, Matt Wong, Max Calkin), and percussion (Steve Holloway and Ben Morrow).

Twelve fine actors play airline crew, passengers and townspeople. They switch roles and accents with such flawless precision I had to check my program later to be sure there were only twelve. They included Kevin Carolan, Harter Clingman, Nick Duckart, Chamblee Ferguson, Becky Gulsvig, Julie Johnson, Christine Toy Johnson, James Earl Jones II, Megan McGinnis, Andrew Samonsky, Danielle K. Thomas, Emily Walton, Marika Aubrey, Jane Bunting, Michael Brian Dunn, Julie Garnyé, Adam Halpin and Aaron Michael Ray.

BOTTOM LINE: Come From Away may even be perfect for skeptics who say they hate musicals because they judge them fake or too sentimental or too satirical or whatever. It’s none of those things. An unlikely subject for a musical? Probably, and yet, it’s a perfect mix of story and song that doesn’t wallow in tragedy or negative emotion. If you only go to one show this year, let it be this one.

REVIEW: Ragtime at Cain Park

Through Sun 6/30

Photo by Steve Wagner

The swiftly-moving Ragtime: The Musical, now at Cain Park’s Alma Theater, gives a musical snapshot of early 1900s in New York City. Based on E. L. Doctorow’s fine and dramatic novel with the same name, it features book by Terrence McNally, music by Stephen Flaherty and lyrics by Lynn Ahrens. The Cain Park production,  directed by Joanna May Cullinan, pays appropriate homage to the classic America-as-melting-pot narrative (at least to the New York City, East Coast  version).

Three families, one white and wealthy, one immigrant and poor, and one black and on the rise, represent turn-of-the last century dynamics. Instrumental and vocal music — not just ragtime, but klezmer, waltzes and more — expresses their emotions, hopes, and dreams.

The story follows what happens when (among other things) Mother (Bridie Carroll) finds an infant in the garden of her comfortable suburban estate. She takes in (and loves) the baby who, as it turns out, is the child of the black servant Sarah (Mariah Burks) and her lover, the soon-to-be-famous ragtime musician Coalhouse Walker, Jr. (Eugene Sumlin). At the same time, penniless Jewish immigrants Tateh (Scott Esposito) and his young daughter (Elise Pakiela) have just arrived in the United States. Ragtime tells what happens as their lives intertwine over the years.

There’s heartbreak, violence, injustice (no one is an angel here, except the little children), and new-found happiness and reconciliation. Something for everyone.

Overall, it’s a delightful summer show with several outstanding performances. As a peacekeeper, Bridie Carroll’s “Mother” handles her pivotal role with elan and grace. Burks’ Sarah shows passion in her despair and pride. While Sumlin’s smooth Coalhouse Walker adds panache to the portrayal of his proud, self-respecting character, at times he seems a little too gentle in his anger.

Displaying great fire, Nyla Watson as “Sarah’s Friend” rocks the first-act ending with a moving, full-voiced “Till We Reach That Day.” In the final scenes, Isaiah Jackson, as Coalhouse’s and Sarah’s little son, is so darn cute it’s just as well he doesn’t appear earlier in the show — he’d have stolen every scene. (As an infant, he’s represented by several alarmingly small bundles carried around by Mother. Real mothers in the audience exchanged wry smiles about baby’s unbelievable size and silence.)

Esposito’s Tateh illustrates beautifully (both literally and figuratively) how creativity can bring wealth without sacrificing compassion. Esposito and Carroll (Mother) persuade us that love prevails in the affirming “Our Children.”

Beauty Anna Barrett, playing celebrity tramp Evelyn Nesbit (and singing “The Crime of the Century”), brings a wicked sense of humor to the role.

The newly configured in-the-round Alma Theater stage should also get special mention. Ragtime can be a big production for large spaces (as it was in Toronto in 1996 when I first saw it). The new oval space at Cain Park meant that the cast (over two dozen) could be seen and heard by people on all four sides at once, thanks to choreographer Imani Jackson and the director. Big kudos to artists  Brittany Ganser and Justine Schneider for handcrafting the cleverly imagined setting that brought us closer to the story.

Credit for “making it real” should also go to set and lighting co-designers Trad A Burns and  Ben Gantose who found a new use for pianos and also created an amazing staircase. Costume designer Tesia Dugan Benson and wig designer Janel Moore brought the era alive. Sound designer Carlton Guc handled the tricky acoustics so that even when characters were not facing us, we could still understand them. Jordan Cooper directed the small above-stage orchestra that ably handled the show’s various styles.

BOTTOM LINE: Filled with tunes great and small, Ragtime mixes history with music. If visual art also intrigues you, then visit the Cain Park’s Feinberg Gallery (next to the Alma) while you are there. Running through July 21, the current exhibition The Ends of the Earth … Lead You Home features photography by Will Slabaugh and Catherine McManus. Slabaugh’s intriguing photographs taken in Japan (and printed on handmade paper) show in subject and creation how old and new can blend. McManus’s varied photographs document her visit to the United Kingdom.

[Written by Laura Kennelly]

Review: Dear Evan Hansen, Playhouse Square June 12, 2019

Dear Evan Hansen @ Playhouse Square, June 11--June 30, 2019

Review by Laura Kennelly

    Overheard on the way out of the Connor Palace Theatre: “This show would be great for psychologists.” The show? The long-awaited, Dear Evan Hansen. multiple award winner, including a 2017 Tony for “Best Musical.”
     Directed by Michael Greif, with book by Steven Levenson, a score by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, the musical explores alienation, family dynamics, and chance. Greif, surely a master of unhappiness, offers a sad and serious look at life for several teens and two sets of parents. It should come as no surprise to learn that he also directed Rent and Next to Normal. The characters, the sub-text (modern life can be pretty awful, but there’s hope for us all), echoes a similar perspective.
     The first and most important teen is, of course, Evan Hansen (Ben Levi Ross), a lonely kid with good intentions. Ross projects, with cringe-inducing accuracy, the painful shyness and insecurity his character suffers. It’s easy to identify. It’s also easy to identify with his mother Heidi Hansen (Jessica Phillips). Phillips subtily shows Heidi’s unintentional contributions to Evan’s problems by exhibiting mannerisms similar to her son’s. (Maybe it’s just me, but what teen has ever, ever in the history of teendom, ever answered truthfully the first time a parent asks “What’s bothering you?” Maybe some do.)
     The Murphy family (as opposed to Evan’s single mom family) seems to have it all, but as nuanced performances by Larry Murphy (Aaron Lazar), Cynthia Murphy (Christiane Noll), and their children Zoe Murphy (played by understudy Ciara Alyse Harris), and Connor Murphy (Marrick Smith) reveal, that’s not true.That tragedy ultimately brings them together reflects the play’s ironic core.
     Jared Goldsmith plays Evan’s kinda friend (Jared Kleinman) with delightfully creepy intensity. Phoebe Koyare, as the bossy Alana Beck, evokes memories of certain high school friends--the ones who always “had a great plan” and could tell you exactly what to do.
     Technically, it’s a musical, but the music seems incidental; it’s mostly anthems of one sort of another that support the plot line. The most hummable include “Waving Through a Window” and “You Will Be Found,”
     The scenic design by David Korins, with projection design by Peter Nigrini, brilliantly reflects our internet age. The stage, filled with flashing displays on vertical columns recreates life on Facebook or Twitter or on email. As the story progresses it echoes what’s happening on stage as digital life reflects “real” life. (I’ve got to add that the usual before-show warning to “Turn off your phones” was the most effective I’ve ever seen.) A usually invisible small orchestra, seated on a platform above the stage, was directed by Austin Cook.

Bottom Line: Dear Evan Hansen is well-produced technically and well-worth seeing. But for a story about redemption, it’s less persuasive than I’d hoped. More a play with incidental music than a “musical,” it lacks the tunes and self-awareness that, for example, a production dwelling on similar teen problems, Be More Chill, delights in.





Side Note: Playhouse Square offers a digital lottery for the few remaining tickets to Dear Evan Hansen at http://www.playhousesquare.org/news/detail/dear-evan-hansen-2019 [http://www.playhousesquare.org/news/detail/dear-evan -hansen-2019].

King Lear at the Beck Center

Shakespeare’s King Lear shines with fresh light in this subtle and brilliant Beck Center production. Director  Eric Schmiedl has created a new view of this familiar classic by ditching frills, fancy  costumes and elaborate sets. It’s nothing like the King Lear you might have been forced to read in school (of course, if you liked it then, never mind this sentence.)

The Studio Theatre set designed by Walter Boswell consists of a series of blocks and planks — all painted black. This stark setting does nothing to distract from the human tragedy we see developing before our eyes when King Lear in his pride and folly divides his kingdom among his daughters and demands verbal assurance that they love him most of all.

Simple costumes created by Kerry McCarthy seem fitting for any period (gowns, generic military uniforms). In an effective touch, decorative trappings of rank (crowns, jewels, scarves) are distributed before a word is spoken (and collected in the same manner at play’s end). The point is made: glory and rank are transient. (And that Nick Sobotka’s Duke of Burgundy wore a burgundy suit added a clever touch.)

Benefitting from their own considerable skills (plus the tight confines of the Studio Theatre), the fine cast made us hear Shakespeare’s words clearly as we watched the interplay of  jealousy, fear, love and ambition that this story lays before us.

Robert Hawkes’ persuasive King Lear seemed every bit the “retired” CEO who really couldn’t retire — until the last scene when he realized that he had wronged the one he loved most (Danyel Rennee Geddie’s Cordelia). As the play underscored, both Lear and Cordelia shared a stubborn and ironic loyalty to the importance of words.

Not so with Lear’s two other daughters: Julia Kolibab as Goneril and Lisa Louise Langford as Regan. Words were nothing more than sound for them. Both Kolibab and Langford played “mean girls” with spirit and verve, especially when they were romancing Edmund (Daniel Telford).

I’m an Anne McEvoy fan, so casting a woman as the Earl of Gloucester worked well most of the time. At play’s end, the blinded McEvoy elicited pity and her resolution to carry on after her “fall” brought admiration. Gloucester and her son Edgar (James Rankin), who accompanied the banished earl, created a tender portrayal of filial and maternal love. Rankin was convincingly crazy in his disguise as an “insane” (and super athletic) beggar.

However, Gloucester is supposed to have two sons, the legitimate son Edgar (James Rankin), and the bastard son Edmund (Daniel Telford). It’s a stretch to think a female (and McEvoy wore women’s clothes)  could get away with that — even if she were an earl. And even if she did, wouldn’t both sons legally be the product of her marriage? Ho hum: Details details details.

Others in the cast included Brian Pedaci as Albany, Rodney Freeman as Cornwall, Jeffery Allen as Lear’s Fool, Shaun Patrick O’Neill as Oswald, Tyler Collins as the King of France, John Stuehr as the Old Man, and David Hansen as Kent.

BOTTOM LINE: A don’t-miss production that, taken overall, exemplifies what Shakespeare’s King Lear is all about: the power of  human connection (aka true love) and the impermanence of worldly trappings.

Native Gardens @ Cleveland Play House, April 27th to May 19th

Review by Laura Kennelly

“Good fences, make good neighbors?” Well, maybe not always. Karen Zacarias’s witty and abundantly funny Native Gardens, directed for The Cleveland Play House by Robert Barry Flemming, plants two contrasting families side by side in a wealthy Washington, D.C. neighborhood. As the drama grows, entwining Zacarias’s characters into battle despite their good intentions, it becomes harder to tell the weeds from the flowers.

The story begins with happy welcomes when newcomers, the ambitious young lawyer Pablo Del Valle (an earnest Grayson DeJesus) and his very pregnant wife Tania (an idealistic Natalie Camunas), first meet the neighbors, master gardener Frank Butley (a grandfatherly Wynn Harmon) and his engineer wife, Virginia (a matter-of-fact Charlotte Maier). The Butleys have lived in their house for years; the Del Valles are first-time home owners.

Both couples agree that gardens are to be cultivated and fences to be maintained. Or do they? A polite disagreement over a fence that separates the two backyards soon escalates to outright chaos as both couples surprise themselves with their own prejudices (and we laugh at the realization of our own assumptions). Meanwhile, a small crew of construction workers labor away in the background. The ensemble includes Anais Bustos and Anthony Velez. (Opening night Velez provided a bit of comic relief when he exited the stage via a series of remarkable handstands and flips.)

As contradictory and confusing as it may sound (can politics ever be funny again?), the witty Zacarias brings laughs with references to well-intentioned contemporary taboos and rules (such as don’t be regionalist, ageist, racist, sexist, etc.). As a result, and as with the very best satire (which I consider Native Gardens to be), many of us saw laughable aspects of ourselves, especially as relating to our current political passions and divisions. (At times the players had to pause so they could be heard over audience laughter.)

Scenic designer Jason Ardizzone-West’s gorgeous set supplied their unlikely battleground with a simple, but brilliant design: two backyards, one an English garden, and the other an unfinished “natural” garden complete with a huge oak tree. Lighting designer Michael Boll skillfully turned night into day and back again with convincing ease. Ensemble players kept busy working in the yard and planning a fence. The beautiful wooden barrier in question, furnished by Elyria Fence Company, got special mention. (Full disclosure: I’ve used Elyria Fence too.)

Bottom Line: Yes, the play is satire, but it’s not a pile of negative snark. The story seems refreshingly grounded in the author’s faith in the human capacity for love and growth. It reminds me of Voltaire’s (and Bernstein’s) Candide because at the end, it’s love that ultimately makes these D.C. gardens grow. Native Gardens is a delight.