16
Jan
2012
I adore the movie version of Grease, and think it's one of the few musicals in which the film is an improvement on the original stage version. The theatrical musical is less cohesive in terms of the timelime's flow, forcing the audience to fill in the gaps between scenes, and I kind of hate that about it - unless a stage production transcends the script's weakness, in which case, like the movie, I love it. However, while I did not hate Friday's performance of Grease at the Circa '21 Dinner Playhouse, I didn't exactly love it, either.
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.
While I like David Turley's work as a director - with this year's Chicago at the District Theatre and Gypsy with Countryside Community Theatre among his most notable efforts - I'd like to see more of him on-stage. I was wowed by his John Hinckley Jr. in 2008's Assassins at the Green Room Theatre, tickled pink by his William Barfee in 2010's The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee at the Harrison Hilltop Theatre, and amusingly intrigued by his Vladimir in that venue's 2010 Waiting for Godot.
Of all the installments in the Nunsense series, which includes six sequels and three spinoffs, the Christmas musical Nuncrackers - currently running at the Circa '21 Dinner Playhouse - seems to me the most palatable. For one thing, it has the added benefit of its Christmas theme; there's just something about the holidays that puts you (or at least me) in a cheery mood, which, in turn, makes it easier to forgive the show's shortcomings. And when you add the merry goofiness of the Little Sisters of Hoboken, it's hard not to be in good spirits throughout the show.
It doesn't happen often, especially if you attend a lot of local theatre - where the on-stage faces tend to become familiar ones. But every once in a while, you'll be at a production that you're really enjoying, and gradually realize that you're routinely focusing on one performer above the others - and asking yourself, with a grin, "Who is that?"
As suggested by the title, the Richmond Hill Barn Theatre's current offering, Sex Please, We're 60, involves men and women of a certain age and their libidos, but thankfully it maintains a modicum of decency by placing the "action" off stage. The piece also features many clichéd jokes and absurd situations, but while I cringed at the images conjured by the title, it's when the work is at its (relatively) raunchiest that the play and the cast work best.
I find it easy to like Scott Community College's production of The War of the Worlds, an adaptation of H.G. Wells' tale of alien invasion, presented here in the radio-drama style of Orson Welles' Mercury Theatre. The performance may not be the best you'll see in the Quad Cities, but the show features so much heart - such simple pleasure in performing - that it's refreshing to sit and watch the show's young men and women play on stage.
If I were a college (or even high school) student of the female sex, I might find playwright Merri Biechler's Real Girls Can't Win! poignant and, if not life-changing, at least food for thought. I'm not, though, so while I appreciated Augustana College's cute presentation of the piece, I found the play itself to be rather pretentious, and annoyingly preachy.
