The Playcrafters Barn Theatre’s Make Me a Cowboy will appeal to anyone who likes pure, wholesome, clean-humored comedy that’s light on plot and heavy on friendly cowboys and public-domain cowboy-themed songs. While that “anyone” does not include me, I at least recognize the earnestness in playwright and director Don Bailey Bryant’s effort to present a decent show, and Make Me a Cowboy certainly made for a good time for Friday’s audience, many of whom sang along to a good number of ditties and seemed pleased with the production.

 [Author's note: The following interview with Eddie Staver III was written for TheCurtainbox.com, the Web site for our area's Curtainbox Theatre Company. I'm proud to say that I'm an ensemble member with the theatrical organization, and along with Staver, am a cast member in the company's September 15 – 25 production of Time Stands Still.]

A company member since 2009, Eddie Staver III made his Curtainbox Theatre Company debut as the haunted title character in 2008’s Danny & the Deep Blue Sea, and went on to appear as the amoral salesman Moss in 2009’s Glengarry Glen Ross, the troubled son Eddie in 2010’s Fool for Love, and, later that year, clinical oncology fellow Jason Posner in Wit. And when I mention to people that Staver is returning to the Curtainbox to play James in Time Stands Still – his first role for the company in over a year – the response I get is almost always the same: “Where has he been?”

There’s a common misconception that, once the musical- and comedy-filled summer season is over, our area’s theatrical output becomes a lot more demanding. But that’s absolutely not true. For example, this autumn brings with it the Western charmer Make Me a Cowboy. And the showtune pastiche Give My Regards! And the fairy-tale spoof Honk! And ... .

Hmm. “Make Me”? “Give My”? “Honk”? That all sounds pretty demanding.

The Timber Lake Playhouse’s ’Til Death Do Us Part: Late Nite Catechism 3 opened this past Thursday, and it seems a little rude to describe just how staggeringly hysterical the performance was, because unless you were one of the evening’s many other cackling patrons, there’s literally no way you’ll be seeing the same production I did. In theatre, of course, no two shows are ever exactly alike. Yet this one-woman comedy may be a special case in that regard, because not only is ’Til Death Do Us Part dependent on audience interaction, but several audience members are so directly involved in the proceedings – and so spectacularly, riotously well-involved – that they could make legitimate claims for co-star billing, and maybe even deserved paychecks. (As it stands, they’re instead treated to lovely parting gifts.)