Playwright Aaron Randolph III has, so far as I know, effectively captured the mental workings of a soldier suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder in his new drama A Green River. A representation of the chaotic, haunting thoughts likely experienced by some soldiers with PTSD, his play takes us through the memories of a single soldier - from childhood to falling in love to combat to his return home - while the young man revisits his favorite quiet place along a river. And as if the proceedings in Randolph's story weren't enough, he also includes a stunningly moving finale that packs such an emotional punch that I'd be surprised if most, if not all, of Saturday's audience members for the QC Theatre Workshop production aren't still reeling from it.
What starts as a theatre audition quickly becomes something entirely different in the QC Theatre Workshop's second production, Private Eyes. And this change from what's real to what's ... well ... something else is something I don't want to fully describe, because such a shift happened several times - and at very unexpected moments - during Friday's performance, making the evening a bit of an intriguing thrill that repeatedly piqued my curiosity.
Those familiar with Davenport Junior Theatre might find its forthcoming production of Mia the Melodramatic a bit ... well ... familiar. After all, the show concerns a children's theatre company that finds kids starring in and producing plays for other kids, and even comes complete with its own mascot in the form of an energetic, floppy-shoed clown.
There are so many smart line deliveries in the Prenzie Players' Tartuffe that I could gush over each one here and still not have space for half of them. From Stephanie Moeller's forceful proclamation "I'm timid!" to Jessica Sheridan's delightfully wicked warning about being stuck with the unbearable title character "each day ... and night ... for life," Friday's performance had me cackling over and over again. I won't, however, point to any more specific line interpretations, for fear of ruining the element of surprise. A large part of the production's humor lies in hearing its words delivered in unexpected ways.
Before November 26, I didn't know much about Junie B. Jones beyond her being the main character in a popular children's book series by Barbara Park. With that in mind, I felt I needed to enlist the help of my family's resident Junie B. expert, eight-year-old Madison, to adequately review the Circa '21 Dinner Playhouse's production of Junie B. in Jingle Bells, Batman Smells. (Madison is, after all, the show's target audience, as opposed to this 37-year-old, balding male.) I suspected that if she was pleased with the play, I would be, too.
[Author's note: The following was written for
There's a special thrill you get from a stage work that seems not just beautifully, but perfectly cast, and following the curtain call for the Green Room's Friday-evening presentation of Doubt: A Parable - currently playing at the Harrison Hilltop Theatre - that thrill stuck with me for the rest of the night, and into the next day.






