Last month, I happened to turn on my TV to an episode of PBS' American Experience titled “The Perfect Crime,” which told of the senseless, 1924 murder of a young Chicago boy. The crime was committed by two teenagers, Richard Loeb and Nathan Leopold, and I was awestruck not only because of the horrific details of the killing, but also by the fact that I had never before heard of it. Then, a few weeks ago, I was assigned to review Thrill Me: The Leopold & Loeb Story, a musical I was unfamiliar with – but one, thanks to PBS, boasting a story I now knew.
During Friday's performance, the QC Theatre Workshop's The Pillowman had me in stitches. While I didn't laugh loudly often, I did chuckle repeatedly throughout the performance, only subduing my laughs out of concern that the subject of my delight was too dark to be funny. But playwright Martin McDonagh's dark comedy is both unquestionably dark and outrageously funny. I mean, it has a young girl (Laila Haley) who considers herself Christ-like proclaiming, "I don't think I'm Jesus. I [effing] am Jesus!" That is some dark comedy.
I want to see Thomas Alan Taylor bomb on stage, and actually fail to portray a role well. This isn't said out of disdain or schadenfreude, but because, to date, I've seen no evidence that he can do any wrong as an actor.
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.
I went into Red, playwright John Logan's drama about abstract expressionist Mark Rothko and his young assistant Ken, with uncertainty about how to appreciate visual art beyond just liking pretty things I see. I left Friday's QC Theatre Workshop production with a better understanding of meaning and intent in art, while also feeling a disdain for abstract expressionism, particularly Mark Rothko's "color fields." And while I'm not certain that Logan's intent is for viewers to dislike Rothko or his paintings, I do think he wants audiences to walk away with emotion and opinions about the artist's creations - making my distaste for Rothko evidence that Logan's work is effective.
New Ground Theatre's current offering, Mr. Marmalade, is about four-year-old Lucy and her imaginary friends. Suicidal, coke-snorting, physically and mentally abusive imaginary friends. And it's incredibly funny. One particularly dark scene during Thursday's performance, in fact, had me laughing so hard, for so long, that I was wiping away tears by the end of it.
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.
Not being a child myself, I can only imagine the delight that kids feel at seeing a much-loved book played out, on stage, before their eyes - which is what's currently happening in the Circa '21 Dinner Playhouse's production of Alexander & the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. While I've personally never read author Judith Viorst's work, I do know it's a popular story among younger readers, and those in the audience during Saturday morning's performance certainly seemed to like what they were seeing. (They were also at least familiar enough with the source material to be able to shout out the show's title without a hitch... though I'd bet many could recite much more than that part of the book by heart.)
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