A Depression-era band performs an impromptu concert at a small-town theatre, facing off against an overbearing, somewhat inept police officer who later, after getting plastered, takes a shine to them. The group's biggest adversary is a mean-spirited rich woman who, after boo-worthy attacks on the group, gets her comeuppance when her power is pulled out from under her. The story serves as the bridge to performances of early-20th-Century songs performed by this jukebox musical's cast members, who play on string instruments and out-of-the-ordinary percussion sources.
It's a description that fits both Southern Crossroads and the District Theatre's latest debuting production, Big Rock Candy Mountain.
On Saturday evening, I was reminded of the local treasure that is the District Theatre's A Christmas Carol. Written by Tristan Layne Tapscott with music by Danny White, this holiday musical is something special: a locally created piece so good that it could, and should, be staged by theatres throughout the country. And this year - the second the theatre has produced the show - brings some notable changes from last winter's staging of this theatrical gem.
It only takes the jurors of the District Theatre's 12 Angry Men an hour to deliberate and arrive at a verdict in the play's murder trial, but director Tristan Tapscott's production in no way feels rushed or stunted. Instead, Thursday's 60-minute trip through this classic piece of theatre did a fine job of showcasing the excellence of playwright Reginald Rose's script. Plus, purists be damned, Tapscott's decision to cast women in what's traditionally - even titularly - an all-male drama proves not at all problematic, and allows for the inclusion of Patti Flaherty, and her infusion of humorous personality traits, in the role of Juror Four.
As its storyline was inspired by 1925's notorious Scopes "Monkey Trial," and its original 1955 presentation a response to McCarthyism, Inherit the Wind is one of those theatrical titles that wears its badges of Importance and Social Relevance on its sleeve. And so it isn't until you see the play (or see it again) that you realize (or remember) just how entertaining it is; Jerome Lawrence's and Robert E. Lee's courtroom drama is less a lecture or a harangue than a juicy, if sentimentalized, episode of Law & Order.
If you weren't able to get tickets for the Green Room's weekend presentations of Assassins, I'm guessing you weren't alone, as all three performances wound up selling out. But over the next two weekends, I urge you to try again - there are scenes in director Derek Bertelsen's production that are so good they'll give you the chills. And the scenes that don't? They're pretty amazing, too.






