I'm not personally familiar with author Judy Blume's children's book Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, but judging by the almost-packed house for Saturday's opening-day performance, I'm pretty sure many elementary-school students are. And based on the kids' relative silence and lack of fidgeting while observing the production, I'm guessing the Circa '21 Dinner Playhouse's stage production is, for them, just as much of a hit as the book.
One of the cleverest things about the Circa '21 Dinner Playhouse's Always a Bridesmaid is its title, and the way it fits its group of women who, because of a promise made at their senior prom, continue to be bridesmaids in each other's weddings well into their 50s. That, however, is as clever as playwrights Jessie Jones, Nicholas Hope, and Jamie Wooten get, as their show's humor is amusing, at best, but never hilarious. The plot and comedy play out more like that of a television sitcom than a theatrical comedy - which might be expected given Wooten's work as a writer and producer on The Golden Girls.
Female fans of princesses will likely enjoy the Circa '21 Dinner Playhouse's children's-theatre holiday offering A Fairy Tale Christmas. Thanks to the always-impressive costume designer Gregory Hiatt and actors Cara Chumbley and Kelly Ann Lohrenz, respectively, Cinderella and Snow White each bear striking resemblances to their characters' Disney designs. Despite slight variations in style, Hiatt's costumes are remarkable re-creations of the most well-known looks for the two princesses, and Chumbley and Lohrenz amusingly mimic the fluttery voices and laughs of the storybook ladies.
The Circa '21 Dinner Playhouse's Things My Mother Taught Me, which is about a young New York couple moving into a new apartment in Chicago, is one of those plays that requires patience, as the first half of the first act takes a while to get on its feet and bring in the humor. While Brad Hauskins' Polish building superintendent Max elicited hearty laughs during Friday's performance through the actor's adept comic delivery and (eventually overused) "Uh-oh"s, not much else, early on, was all that effectively funny. Until, that is, the parents of the cohabitating Olivia and Gabe arrived, at which point it was clear that director Warner Crocker's pacing for the rest of the show was going to be remarkable, and the comedic chaos amplified by the play's four parents fussing over their children.
The strength of playwright Neil LaBute's writing skills was on full display in the District Theatre's equally stunning, Friday-night presentation of reasons to be pretty. LaBute's gritty drama about the demise of a couple after the guy is overheard describing his girl as having a "regular"-looking face is loaded with sharp banter and realistic relationships that are less than perfect, and the show's dark humor is not lost on director Bryan Tank's cast. The comicality is clear as the characters scream obscenities at each other, stab each other verbally, and behave in seriously ugly ways.
As the show's many, many stagings have taught us, so long as you have a great Maria, a good Captain von Trapp, and a bunch of cute kids, you can present even a really mediocre The Sound of Music and get away with it. And I'm happy to report that the Countryside Community Theatre's presentation of Rodgers & Hammerstein's musical has a great Maria, a good Captain von Trapp, and a bunch of cute kids. As for the rest of the production ... well, they're getting away with it.
When you attend the Green Room's re-imagining of Rodgers & Hammerstein's Carousel - and I'm trusting that you will attend this altogether glorious production - the first thing likely to catch your eye is the playing area's bucolic backdrop, its pastoral simplicity only tarnished by an off-center, crudely drawn Nazi swastika. A flip to the back page of Carousel's program finds director Derek Bertelsen devoting three paragraphs to the World War II ghetto of Theresienstadt. And when the show's actors dolefully enter the stage, they're wearing muted grays offset only by yellow Stars of David. Yes, you realize, this Carousel is set in a German concentration camp.






