Leslie Kane and Joshua Pride in Figaro (photo by Daisy Hoang, Augustana Photo Bureau)Augustana College's Figaro is a fine example of how witty, self-referential humor makes for a better farce than does banal innuendo and silly, unrealistic door slamming. Playwright Charles Morey's recent adaptation of Pierre Beaumarchais' The Marriage of Figaro (written in 1778) is sharply funny, filled with references to Beaumarchais' original trilogy ("It would take an Italian opera to describe [the plot.]") and digs at the rich ("How clever of you, sir, to be rich rather than smart.") There's still sexual innuendo and slamming doors, but Morey's script is so much quick-paced, pointedly humorous fun that the two-hour presentation rises above the level of most bedroom farce, especially considering that this production is populated by such a well-cast ensemble.


Jessica Sheridan and Corinne Johnson in WitIt is with great apprehension that I write this review of the Curtainbox Theatre Company's production of Wit, fearing I will not do it justice. The script's themes are so distressing and touching, the show's direction so meticulously wrought, and the lead actress' portrayal so rivetingly intense that I don't have the words to convey the depth to which Friday's production pierced the theatre space... and my heart. I left humbled, and will likely re-evaluate my priorities in life for days to come, certain that the production will result in a permanent change in my perspectives. That's how profoundly moving Wit is.

Tom Walljasper, Sandra D Rivera, Tristan Layne Tapscott, and Erin Dickerson in Are We There Yet Five Extraordinary Ensembles

An actor friend of mine says he always wants to be the worst performer in everything he's in, because if the rest of the cast is doing stronger work than he is, that means the show is in really, really good shape. With that in mind, any actor worth his or her salt would be thrilled to be the worst performer among these five ensembles.

 

Ben Webb and Veronica Smith in Blood Wedding Federico García Lorca's Blood Wedding isn't a play that's "fun" in any traditional sense of the word; you're thrown into complex states of grief and anger within this classic's first few lines of dialogue, and even the infrequent moments of levity are suffused with dread. (By all accounts, the Spanish playwright wasn't exactly a load of laughs, and for understandable reason.)