The Great Privation (How to flip ten cents into a dollar), written by Nia Akilah Robinson and directed by Mina Morita, tells a philosophical and profound story where memories cling to soil and roots, where what was buried begins to breathe again, and where the past has not vanished and has arrived in the present to begin a new chapter.

Two story timelines unfold in scenes that alternate between 1832 and 2025. Throughout the play, themes of scientific consent, racial justice, the impact of history across generations, and joy and triumph amid struggle emerge in powerful confrontations and confessions.

In 1832, a deadly cholera outbreak felled thousands in New York City. Neighboring Philadelphia didn’t escape its clutches; many Philly residents succumbed as well. Those unfortunate souls — if they were believers and well off enough — ended up buried in a church cemetery, here at Philadelphia’s African Baptist Church. This is the setting for the historical events in the play. When the curtain goes up, we meet a widow who is mourning the death of her husband alongside her teenage daughter. They also are protecting the body. They have to guard his burial plot from grave robbers, so-called “resurrectionists” who pillage the bodies of the poor, the Black, and the Black poor so that their bodies may be exploited for scientific study. (Historical information on this practice is in the digital program.)

Multiple scenes covering three critical days pit Mother and daughter Charity against graverobbers John and a janitor, who covet the deceased for dissection at Jefferson Medical College.

Almost two centuries later, in 2025, time has turned, but the earth remembers. And in its quiet and disquieting persistence, a new story takes root on the same Philly ground, now redeveloped as a summer camp. This is where we meet another mother-daughter pair who are spending the summer working there as camp counselors. Several scenes portray the contemporary history of Mother and her daughter Charity, and their present-day conflict. For instance, Charity “wants to know her history, to earn her Black stripes,” while her mother wants her to “stay out of the limelight.” Hard to do when Charity is one of three Black kids in her school.

Eventually, the two timelines encircle and echo each other in dramatic and surprising fashion. I won’t say more.

Gifted actors anchor us in the past and the present, all four brilliantly playing dual roles.

Yetunde Felix-Ukwu (Mother/Modern-Day Mother) and Victoria Omoregie (Charity/Modern-Day Charity) make a dynamic team. Are they really unrelated? Their chemistry, affection, and trust with one another made them instantly believable as mother and daughter in both timelines. Their “push/pull,” “give and take,” and “no/why not” were expertly performed.

Both are formidable in projecting bravery, strength, resolve, vulnerability, and love for one another, whether standing up to graverobbers or as co-camp counselors. Playwright Robinson has crafted a script that nails motherhood and daughterhood, and one that shows the character growing and changing as the play progresses.

Moreover, both are exceptional performers individually. Victoria Omoregie physically embodies a teenager in both eras and perfectly captures young adulthood sensibility and attitude appropriate for the timeline. She showcases a remarkable range. She made me laugh in both roles! Similarly, Yetunde Felix-Ukwu’s skill in conveying nuanced emotions while alternating dialects, body language, and tone back and forth from 1832 to 2025 and scene to scene is outstanding.

Marc Pierre (Janitor/Cuffee) shines while deepening the story’s moral complexity. As the 1832 janitor, he credibly argues the nobility of his graverobbing for science. “In the twentieth or twenty-first century, there will be no deaths from cholera!” His performance in that timeline forces the audience to see his complicity as nuanced, borne of inner conflict and self-preservation. Notably, Cuffee in the present, self-described as the “first Black queer supervisor at this white camp,” provides thematic connection to the 1832 janitor, showing that one’s story is not as black and white as it at first may seem.

Zack Powell (John/Modern-Day John) excels in both roles. As medical student/graverobber, he is coiled, steely, and cold as ice, but believably manic, silly, and rubber-limbed as camp counselor. Yet a core trait projected in both roles — which I’ll call white-male entitled privilege egotism — links both characters across time as if showing both sides of the same coin. His counselor salary is higher than his co-workers’. Naturally.

This production, led by Mina Morita, has crafted a stupendous show from front to back of house. The pacing is excellent; scenes flow fluidly and end with precise intention to keep the audience engaged. The spare set, dominated by a magnificent tree suspended from the ceiling, visually deepened the play’s meditation on time and the connection between past and present that it explored. The lighting design and sound design complemented the moods being evoked for each timeline.

My one quibble is that at close to two hours, the play is long without an intermission, and the ending fused with the after-show celebration on stage. But I wholeheartedly agree with the standing ovation for a triumphant premiere performance.

Go see The Great Privation (How to flip ten cents into a dollar). It’s stellar. It powerfully offers a mirror to our times today and captures the ways in which the ghosts of the past shape the present and won’t stay buried despite attempts to keep them hidden. And it also reminds us to find joy in adverse situations. To quote Alice Walker, “Hard times require furious dancing.”

Running Time: Approximately one hour and 45 minutes with no intermission.

The Great Privation (How to flip ten cents into a dollar) plays through October 12, 2025, presented by DC’s Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company and Boston’s Company One Theatre at Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company, 641 D St NW, Washington, DC. Tickets ($55 —$83, with discounts available and a limited number of PWYW tickets starting at $5 for every show) can be purchased online, by phone at 202-393-3939, by email (tickets@woollymammoth.net), or in person at the Sales Office at 641 D Street NW, Washington, DC (Tuesday–Friday, 12:00–6:00 p.m.). Discount tickets are also available on TodayTix.

The digital playbill is downloadable here.

COVID Safety: Masks are optional in all public spaces at Woolly Mammoth Theatre except for a mask-required performance Wednesday, September 24, 8 p.m. Woolly’s full safety policy is available here.

Connectivity Programming
In keeping with Woolly’s commitment to inclusiveness and broad community engagement, a range of connectivity programming augments multiple performances, including Community Conversations, Artist Talkbacks, Post-Show Discussions, a Call and Response Workshop, and Affinity Performances. Get there early or plan to stay after the performance to have time to engage with Woolly Mammoth’s “The Lobby Experience.”

The Great Privation (How to flip ten cents into a dollar)
By Nia Akilah Robinson
Directed by Mina Morita

CREATIVE TEAM
Scenic Designer: Meghan Raham
Lighting Designer: Amith Chandrashaker
Costume Designer: Brandee Mathies
Sound Designer: Nick Hernandez
Hair and Wig Designer: Lashawn Melton
Stage Manager: Sarah Chapin
Dramaturg: Sonia Fernandez
Dialect Coach: Bridget Jackson
Intimacy and Fight Director: Sierra Young

CAST
Mother/Modern-Day Mother: Yetunde Felix-Ukwu
Charity/Modern Day Charity: Victoria Omoregie
Janitor/Cuffee: Marc Pierre
John/Modern-Day John: Zack Powell

The post ‘The Great Privation’ at Woolly tells a profound mother-daughter story  appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

Now to Ashes, which played at the 2025 District Fringe Festival, is tour-de-force theater-making that breathes life into pivotal white and Black figures at the vanguard and intersection of abolitionist and feminist activism. Written and directed by Renae Erichsen-Teal and Sarah Pultz, it is at once riveting, poignant, and profound.

Four women are at the heart of the play. At the center of it all are abolitionist sisters Sarah “Sally” Moore Grimké and Angelina “Nina” Grimké, telling their origin story as defiant daughters in a white slaveholding family in the 17th and 18th centuries. Alongside them is Black abolitionist Sarah Mapps Douglas, instrumental in the creation and development of the Philadelphia Female Anti-Slavery Society. After Douglas met the Grimkés, she pushed for them to support women’s equality and changes to the Quakers’ original view that opposition to slavery should not be political. Anchoring the abolitionist past with the early civil rights movement is Angelina “Nana” Weld Grimke (the Grimkés’ niece), the Black poet, playwright, teacher, and writer of the early 20th century. Fascinating and complex characters all.

The play opens in the year 1956 with Angelina “Nana” Weld Grimke wondering when things will ever change. (We also see her throughout in youth.) It then hopscotches through time, each shift presenting a new vignette highlighting other characters or a significant event of the time, such as Douglas and the Grimkés’ meeting with William Lloyd Garrison, publisher of the Liberator magazine. It ends with Nana (in the present) as well, when she solemnly states, “I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

Hearing historical figures voice impassioned arguments defending and decrying slaveholding was eye-opening. The dramatized personal and political conversations laid bare the movement’s fissures that are not unlike contemporary disagreements about the direction of a cause. Moreover, the adamant demands from activists claiming their way forward was the only way through will resonate with anyone even remotely connected to direct action organizing around any issue and social justice advocacy. These vignettes also added action and momentum to more reflective parts of the production created by interspersing the readings of letters, speeches, and poems. (The poetry is Nana’s.)

Now to Ashes’ overall historical blueprint leads to three takeaways: revolution is always messy; freedom must never be taken for granted; and the path of progress is never a straight line. It also reveals the fault lines in any movement for change from the status quo. The inevitable fights over leadership. The tensions over the speed of actions or tactics to employ. The issue of money. The question of what to do when. And the ultimate: who’s inside the umbrella of care right now and who isn’t? The abolitionists fought over all of it.

Renae Erichsen-Teal and Sarah Pultz clearly conducted prodigious research to develop the play. For fun a few weeks ago, I started reading The Grimkes, by Kerri K. Greenidge. I’m still wading through it. One book is just a fraction of the material available to the playwrights. Their sculpting and sifting to present these key moments and turning points in abolitionism is an undeniable feat.

Speaking of fun, yes, this is a serious production, but it’s not a downer. It’s also entertaining with lighter moments too, like the marriage proposal scene.

Which brings me finally to mention the cast. If space permitted, I would want to call out individual appreciations for each of the cast of ten — many in multiple roles — but suffice it to say they were all spectacular.

Though some of the specific characters were imprecisely identified in the beginning (complicated by dual casting), I was sold on this show from start to finish. Now to Ashes is amazing and true to the 2025 District Fringe Festival motto. It’s uninhibited. It’s unafraid. And — I hope it’s unstoppable.

For more information about Now to Ashes, visit the website.

Now to Ashes
Historical drama by Renae Erichsen-Teal and Sarah Pultz

Running Time: Two hours and 30 minutes
Date and Time: Saturday, July 19, 2:00p

Venue: Phoenix – UDC Lecture Hall (44A03)
Tickets: $15
More Info and Tickets: Now to Ashes

Genre: Drama

Directed by: Renae Erichsen-Teal and Sarah Pultz
Playwright: Renae Erichsen-Teal and Sarah Pultz
Performed by:
Jam Donaldson as Angelina Weld Grimké (Present) and Grace Douglass
Madison Norwood as Young Angelina Weld Grimké and Margaretta Forten
Mikaela Fenn as Sarah Moore Grimké (Sally)
Alexandria Grigsby as Angelina Emily Grimké (Nina)
Amber Patrice Coleman as Sarah Mapps Douglass
Paul Brewster as John Grimké, Jonathan Evans, and William Lloyd Garrison
Allison Turkel as Polly Grimké and Catharine Beecher
Paulette Grady as Charlotte Forten
Ari Post as Israel Morris and Lewis Tappan
Max Johnson as Theodore Weld

The complete 2025 District Fringe Festival schedule is online website
The 2025 District Fringe Festival program is online here.

The post 2025 District Fringe Review: ‘Now to Ashes’ by Renae Erichsen-Teal and Sarah Pultz (4 ½ stars) appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

Here is what we know. Three years after what appears to have been an unspeakable crime, a survivor arrives at an office and faces off against two others who are ostensibly instruments of the judiciary. They question her about her family, her choice to come alone, and ultimately about a decision. We learn that their job is to witness, record, and potentially influence the survivor’s consequential decision — its full portent unrevealed until late in the play. The bureaucrats are focused on procedure. But the survivor still clearly suffers the aftermath of the crime she endured, as does her family.

One of the marvels of the play is that the world outside is of the play but not in the play, the world we must create in our imaginations about the particulars that we are not shown. Here is what we don’t know. What happened three years ago is a mystery. The names, identities, and formal roles of the bureaucrats, as well as the survivor’s name, are unknown. Furthermore, we don’t know the nature of the decision she must make.

Situated in Britain, hang by debbie tucker green, directed by Deidra LaWan Starnes, traps us within an imagined legal system (in an indeterminate time) that grants crime victims outsize power to render a decision about a perpetrator’s fate. hang premiered at London’s Royal Court Theatre in 2015, in a production directed by the author.

Playing at 1st Stage, this drama is for theatergoers who relish mystery and don’t want to be spoon-fed a story. Moreover, it’s for patrons willing to wrestle with wrenching questions about what a system of justice owes to victims, those unafraid of an unflinching glimpse of what reclaiming power might look like, as well as what surviving really means.

As the action progresses (or devolves), tempers flare. Demands intensify. The bureaucrats bicker and misstep, and the survivor gives as good as she gets as she battles them in a duel for power and control. It’s riveting to behold the bureaucrats neglecting the emotional and human dimensions of the survivor’s trauma in favor of procedure, inanities, and just plain clumsiness. Of course, nothing like this occurs in real life, where functionaries overlook the deeper emotional weight of a situation, prioritizing process over the personal anguish involved. Nope, no resonance to today!

But playwright debbie tucker green isn’t having it. Her script is constructed with vivid direct imagery, resisting abstractions. She zeroes in on the trauma. For example, the survivor explains that her child has attended three schools and has been in six classes with four teaching assistants — not that he is having a problem in school. She is blunt about intimacy with her husband, rejecting euphemism. She conjures sight and smell when she talks of piss-stained sheets rather than soiled bed linens. Indeed, her script is a tour-de-force combination of specificity, brutal honesty, and raw power. It locks you into her survivor’s journey.

Equally brilliant is the subtext created by the words unsaid, the sentences unfinished, and the unfilled conversational gaps as acted by Patrick Joy and Ellis Green, who are outstanding as the bureaucrats. Listening to them trip up and speak over one another, either trying to say something or trying not to say something, draws in the audience. We wonder: What were they going to say? Why didn’t they finish saying what they were about to say? Why did one prevent the other one from speaking? The conversational calisthenics also added much-needed humor and the chance to laugh during a devastatingly serious drama.

Helen Hayes–nominated Patrick Joy was subtle and touching. He was notable as the arguably less senior of the officials by eliciting sympathy in a role that could have been caricatured in less able hands. His missteps communicated an ingratiating, people-pleasing personality, without asking the audience to like him. Well-known DC-based actor Ellis Greer’s characterization — erect posture, never unbuttoned jacket, flashing eyes, and curt delivery — conveyed a compelling depiction of low empathy, think the anti–Olivia Benson (Law & Order: Special Victims Unit). This isn’t to say the functionaries don’t take her seriously. They do, yet are nonetheless inept. In her corner or just in the room? You decide.

Lolita Marie, a three-time Helen Hayes Award recipient and 2025 Supporting Actor nominee, furthers her reputation in the leading role of the survivor. Marie is spellbinding, severe and challenging, soundless and withdrawn, always intense, and mostly vulnerable. Her portrayal of one indefatigable woman standing in her power lifts her survivor’s story from bleakness to bravery. You can’t look away from her pride and seething pain as she parries with Joy and Greer as the bureaucrats. The tension that she creates plays out with every movement, every utterance, and her every breath. In the final scene (no spoilers), Marie holds us breathless in the palm of her hand and does not let go.

Director Deidra LaWan Starnes’ production is a triumph. Under her direction hang is thrilling and taut with tension from beginning to end. You will feel it long afterward.

The production design adds to the power of the acting and script. The set is an austere room mounted on a platform containing folding chairs and a table, all angles. It’s cold and gray and lifeless, except that it is bordered on the floor with a blood-red paint strip, the color matching a single red column towering in a corner. It resembles the standard interrogation room we’ve seen on TV network crime procedurals or a prison waiting room, devoid of humanity except for the water dispenser perched on a chair next to a long counter. Early in the performance, the survivor asks if she is being recorded or watched. The room certainly appears to be one where the audience is placed on the viewing side of a one-way mirror.

Additionally, the music and lighting reinforce the mood of the production. From the sounds of breathing, high-pitched tones, and what seemed to be a background hum as if the room was alive — or maybe dying — to lights that blinked and dimmed at unexpected moments, the show achieved a coherent intensity that is hard to overstate.

Is the ending bleak, brave, or both? You decide.

hang at 1st Stage is a wholly original show. It’s gripping, illuminating, moving, and superbly acted. This is a must-see production that demands to be experienced.

Don’t miss it. Five out of five stars.

Running Time: 90 minutes with no intermission.

hang plays through March 30, 2025 (Thursdays/Fridays/Saturdays at 7:30 pm  and Saturdays/Sundays at 2 pm), at 1st Stage, 1524 Spring Hill Road, Tysons, VA. Purchase tickets ($55 for general admission, with limited tickets for $25 and $40 at each performance) by calling the box office at 703-854-1856, going online, or in person before each performance. Select performances are open-captioned and/or audio-described. Open seating.

The digital playbill is downloadable here.

COVID Safety: 1st Stage is now a mask-optional space with select mask-required performances offered for each show. See 1st Stage’s complete COVID Safety Information here.

hang
By debbie tucker green
Directed by Deidra LaWan Starnes
Produced by Patricia Tetro and Jack Wilbern

CAST
Lolita Marie (Three)
Patrick Joy (Two)
Ellis Greer (One)

PRODUCTION AND DESIGN TEAM
Set Design: Giorgos Tsappas
Lighting Design: Venus Gulbranson
Sound Design: Justin Schmitz
Costume Design: Cidney Forkpah
Props: Pauline Lamb
Intimacy Coordinator: Lorraine Ressegger-Slone
Stage Manager: Sarah Usary
Dialect Coach: Jeri Jeannine Marshall
Assistant Stage Manager: Terrence Griffin
Artistic Director: Alex Levy

The post A survivor stands in her power in spellbinding ‘hang’ at 1st Stage appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

Matthew Capodicasa’s The Scenarios, making its world premiere at Studio Theatre, is a blistering, raw, yet undeniably tender and compassionate take on the third rail of policing — the collision between alternate realities when armed police encounter a person who is experiencing a mental or emotional disturbance — encounters that can often lead to violence or death for the civilian, and perhaps the officer as well. Capodicasa’s play is about more than meets the eye, with crisp dialogue, multiple themes, and provocative ideas.

It’s an excellent production.

The play takes place in a training room in a police station, where actors Angie, played by Sarin Monae West (they/them), and Ned, played by Joey Collins, have been hired to enact scenarios depicting mentally or emotionally disturbed persons for officers being trained in de-escalation techniques. Over the course of a week, Angie and Ned present officers Sasha (Keeley Miller) and Charlie (Joel Ashur) with opportunities to practice deploying alternatives to the use of force. Patricia (Alyssa Keegan, they/them) is the liaison between the actors and the police. They address the audience as if we are observing the class while they coach the actors and officers. Their goal is to help the officers learn to resist automatically cuffing someone by instead using techniques such as active listening, giving civilians space, and offering help. You can sum up this approach as fully seeing a person and not just reacting to them. Or that having humanity, empathy, and compassion matters.

The entire cast is exceptional.  Sarin Monae West stands out as Angie. The role demanded extreme physicality, requiring them to switch quickly between personas and portray a range of emotions. They were by turns scared and scary, thoughtful, pensive, defiant, withdrawn, and above all, simply vulnerable when not pretending in a scenario. West is a commanding talent. Joey Collins, making his Studio debut as Ned, played funny, poignant, and full of himself, truly embodying “an actor.” He masterfully revealed a basketful of insecurities beneath the surface of Ned’s bluster. When he makes a bold move, everything spirals out of control.

Much of the play centers around who has skin in the game (of pretend). Keeley Miller as Sasha fills a role that voices what some might say in seeking to dismiss the training, calling it “woke bullshit.” But her character, too, might just benefit from empathy as is revealed as the play unfolds. Charlie, played by Joel Ashur, is the most enigmatic of the group, perhaps hiding behind a desire to say what he needs to in order to pass the course. Ashur’s nuanced performance lets the audience fill in the gaps. For me, his portrayal was a wonderful antithesis of the super macho cop — a nod to Capodicasa’s refusing to cast a villain. Keegan as Patricia was superb. Watching their incessant cheeriness and refrains of “good job” play against Patricia’s utter powerlessness within the law enforcement industrial complex was stirring. Keegan demonstrated a remarkable ability to show how infuriating and rewarding change-making can be and that in the fraught world of policing, all efforts to get it right are honorable, even as efforts may fall short.

Kudos to West for movement that incorporated scrambling and crawling on the floor, leaping, hyperventilating, and more — all of it bringing vividness and richness to Angie’s characterization.

Lighting Designer Alberto Segarra’s artistry particularly stands out at the end of the play. He softly lit the audience in waves of movement, evoking perhaps traffic lights from above or the way lights might play through cracks in concrete. This unifies the audience with the performers, allowing us all to share the experience at hand.

Tiffany Nichole Greene’s direction is sure. The pace mimics the speed at which the training scenarios unfold yet allows decompression from preceding intense training sessions.

Matthew Capodicasa’s The Scenarios is by no means a “message” play in the sense of being didactic and preachy. While it doesn’t pull punches about the importance of training for police officers engaging with people experiencing a mental or emotional disturbance, there’s no soapbox, and there are no villains. But Capodicasa’s immersive storytelling is a plea for resisting superficial and quick assumptions that render people into stereotypes and abstractions. It seems reasonable to suggest that everyone could use coaching on that.

Running Time: Approximately 80 minutes with no intermission.

The Scenarios plays through April 6, 2025, in the Mead Theatre at Studio Theatre, 1501 14th Street NW, Washington, DC. For tickets ($42–$95, with low-cost options available), go online or call the box office at 202-332-3300. Studio Theater offers discounts for first responders, military servicepeople, students, young people, educators, senior citizens, and others, as well as rush tickets. For discounts, contact the box office or visit here for more information. On Saturday, March 29 at 2:00 PM Studio offers an ASL-Interpreted Performance. Related Special Events include: Artists In Conversation on March 9 and March 15.

The program for The Scenarios is online here.

COVID Safety: All performances are mask recommended. Studio Theatre’s complete Health and Safety protocols are here.

The Scenarios
By Matthew Capodicasa
Directed by Tiffany Nichole Greene

CAST
Angie: Sarin Monae West
Ned: Joey Collins
Sasha: Keeley Miller
Charlie: Joel Ashur
Patricia: Alyssa Keegan

UNDERSTUDIES
Angie: Edmée – Marie Faal
Ned: Zach Brewster-Geisz
Sasha/Patricia: Fabiolla Da Silva
Charlie: Prince Bajon

ARTISTIC TEAM
Playwright: Matthew Capodicasa
Director: Tiffany Nichole Greene
Set Designer: Afsoon Pajoufar
Costume Designer: Moyenda Kulemeka
Lighting Designer: Alberto Segarra
Sound Designers: Noel Nichols; Daniela Hart; Bailey Trierweiler (UptownWorks)
Fight Coordinator: Sierra Young
Dramaturg: Adrien-Alice Hansel
Production Stage Manager: Leigh Robinette
Casting: Katja Zarolinski, CSA

The post A blistering yet tender police training in ‘The Scenarios’ at Studio Theatre appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

The crowd-pleasing encore engagement of Six roars into the National Theater giving DC the party we knew we needed but didn’t have an invite to! This Tony-winning musical “histo-remix” — staged as a singing competition — has it all: spectacular choreography, eye-popping costumes, exceptional music and sound, stand-out scenic and lighting design. As well as six sensational performers who are sexy, sassy, sharp, and sure.

Moreover, the show’s no-holds-barred reclaiming of the narrative we all learned about the wives of Tudor King Henry VIII is a resonant message of female empowerment that elevates Six from a mere pop concert entertainment romp through history, or herstory, though highly entertaining it is. Hands down, it’s a veritable explosion of exuberance and a rollicking good time!

The “Six” of course are Queens Catherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour, Anna of Cleves, Katherine Howard, and Catherine Parr. They open the performance by announcing their fates in sequence — “Divorced. Beheaded. Died. Divorced. Beheaded. Survived.”

From the first “Hello DC” to the curtain call when we were on our feet whooping and stomping approval, the phenomenally talented and diverse cast portraying these diva queens held the audience in the palms of their hands as they set the record straight about who they really were and how they ended up. To begin, the queens tell the audience that whomever it decides fared the worst as Henry VIII wife gets to lead the band, who are naturally the Ladies in Waiting. Then each sings her story of doom, each attempting to outwoe her rivals. They are more than ably served by a powerhouse book, music, and lyrics by Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss.

First up is Catherine of Aragon (Chani Maisonet). The program lists her queenspirations as Beyonce and Shakira. Maisonet’s rendition of “No Way” establishes the show’s defiant attitude. When she sings that there’s no way and she won’t back down, it’s an anthem, a rallying cry directed to Henry as much as to Anne Boleyn, one of Catherine’s ladies in waiting. I dare you to stop singing the chorus.

Boleyn (Gaby Albo) takes center stage next with “Don’t Lose Ur Head.” Throughout the show, Albo provides a playful counterpart to her true grim storyline of beheading by continually reminding the other ex-wives that she lost her head. In a serious/not-serious vein, she asks, “What was I meant to do?” when they are disbelieving how she became wife number two.

Next in line is Jane Seymour (Kelly Denice Taylor). The program lists her queenspiration as Adele and Sia, and indeed her aching delivery on “Heart of Stone” hits the mark. She empties her heart and soul into the song. She makes you feel what she is feeling.

Wife number four is Anna of Cleves, also known as Anne of Cleeves. Danielle Mendoza owns the role and the audience with her turn. She flirts with the audience in “Get Down,” coyly singing the refrain, “I’m the queen of the castle,” while channeling queenspirations Nicki Minaj and Rihanna, stripping down to a bodysuit, and gyrating suggestively. In fact, one audience member was so stirred that he rose from his seat and danced along for a bit. Who could blame him?

Katherine Howard (Alizé Cruz) was cutting and sarcastic, mocking the other ex-wives before launching into “All You Wanna Do,” a song in the style of Brittany Spears or Ariana Grande. Ironically, her display of self-assured sexuality sells her song of double entendres about the men in her life only wanting her body.

Finally there’s Katherine Parr (Tasia Jungbauer), who rounds out the group with “I Don’t Need Your Love” à la Alicia Keyes. She emerges as a voice urging common sisterhood that takes the show to new heights and sets up a satisfying finale to the dueling suffering.

It’s easy to simply enjoy the catchy songs that sample rap, electronica, ballads, pop, hip hop, punk, and a blending of genres. They are uniformly party-ready. I danced in my seat. (I wasn’t alone.) But my real pleasure was found in the witty lyrics and the wordplay that modernized historical references in each queen’s story. Hearing contemporary phraseology like unfriending, profile pictures, and sorry/not-sorry does more than update and translate outdated speech for the modern ear. It demonstrates relevancy to today and the importance of claiming one’s narrative and speaking it, or risking it being told for you.

Speaking of the songs, I’d be remiss if I didn’t call out the exceptional sound design by Paul Gatehouse and orchestration by Tom Curran. Additionally, I applaud the musical versatility and rockin’ playing by the band aka The Ladies in Waiting. Take a bow, Lizzie Webb, music director/keyboard; Emily Davies, bass; Rose Laguana, guitars; and Camilla Mennitte Pereyra, drums.

The production is also exceptional for other design elements. Gabriella Slade’s costumes perfectly outfitted each ex-wife specific to her story and attitude and enhanced the story each told about themselves. While each of them had a rock star look, each rhinestone, bustier, jacket, miniskirt, or over-the-knee boots sold that queen’s story. Each costume detail amplified it, such as the chokers worn by the beheaded queens. I also loved the hip holsters where the queens stashed their microphones. Practical genius.

Carrie-Anne Ingrouille’s choreography is masterful as well. The routines are amazing. Indeed, the choreography surely accounts for the global juggernaut that is Six. Since its debut, Six has become a phenomenal must-see around the world. Hats off to Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss for this inspirational creation capturing a genie in a bottle. All credit is due. Everybody should see this touring production. Its message of empowerment is one we can all use.

And don’t we all deserve a dose of joy right now?

Running Time: 80 minutes with no intermission.

The North American tour of Six plays through December 1, 2024, at the National Theatre, 1321 Pennsylvania Ave NW, Washington. Tickets ($100–$199) are available online, at the box office, or by calling (202) 628-6161.

Enter the Digital Lottery for a chance to purchase $29 tickets. Learn more here.

The cast and creative credits for the touring production are here.

COVID Safety: Masks are strongly recommended but not required for all ticket holders. For full COVID protocol, go here.

SEE ALSO:
‘Six’ diva queens are front and center at the National Theatre (review by Lisa Traiger, July 18, 2022)

The post Smash-hit musical ‘Six’ returns to the National Theatre a rollicking good time appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

Watch your ideas of good and evil go up in flames in Covenant, masterfully executed by Theater Alliance. Following a sold-out Off-Broadway run in 2023, this Southern gothic tale arrives at the perfect time to ignite your imagination and set fire to what you think you believe. It is a riveting and spellbinding play about lies and secrets, truth and trust, piety and shame, and the power of identity and belief.

When bluesman Johnny (Isaiah Q. Reed) returns to his hometown in 1930s Georgia after years of touring juke joints, playing like an angel and smooth talking instead of stuttering, rumors circulate that he acquired his guitar skills by selling his soul to the Devil. Blues aficionados might recognize the nod to the real-life bluesman Robert Johnson, whose prodigious skills and songwriting resulted in his being accused of playing “the Devil’s music.”

Johnny’s return inspires differing reactions from the four women who round out this accomplished cast. Mama (Fatima Quander) is religiously devout and unflinching in her view that the rumors are true. She forbids her strong-willed eldest daughter Avery (Renea S. Brown) from seeing Johnny. Avery’s sister Violet (Raven Lorraine) tries to convince Avery to be skeptical about trusting Johnny. What if anything is he hiding? Violet’s friend Ruthie (Madison Norwood) is more welcoming of Johnny than Violet and obviously so. But as the play goes on, we discover each woman also harbors something buried and that their connections to Johnny and one another create an interconnected web, leaving the audience to tear fact from fiction.

Each of these performers gives a master class in portraying complex characters, no doubt the result of sure direction by Autumn Angelettie. One by one each takes a spotlight turn spinning a strand of this spider web of a story. Fatima Quander as Mama commands each of her scenes with jaw-dropping, fear-inducing certitude. Yet she allows her pain to leak through. Renea S. Brown’s metamorphosis as Avery is simply staggering. Isaiah Q. Reed as Johnny is physically nuanced and believable as he exposes different sides of himself to Avery, Violet, Ruthie, and Mama. Raven Lorraine as Violet is expressive and dynamic. She speaks volumes through her eyes and facial expressions, and also delivers the humor the show needs to avoid being unrelentingly chilling. It’s impossible not to cheer for her. And Madison Norwood’s Ruthie believably conveys youthful yearning complicated by people-pleasing earnestness. Indeed, this play is really an actors showcase. Each delivers!

The creative team has created the perfect complement to this frightening story. The design team amps up the supernatural with illusions that stupefy such as blackouts and spinning furniture and sounds that throb such as lightning strikes. The spare set allows prominence to the actors while conveying the multiple locations in the story.

But last and not least it’s playwright York Walker’s dialogue and story construction that blew me away. His debut play is quite accomplished and sophisticated. Indeed, the complex and multilayered Covenant is as if Jordan Peele, Nathanial Hawthorne, and August Wilson got together and wrote a play. It’s amazing. Don’t miss it.

Running Time: 95 minutes, no intermission.

EXTENDED: Covenant plays through November 10, 2024, presented by Theater Alliance performing at The Westerly, 340 Maple Dr SW, Washington, DC. Tickets are available online.

The program for Covenant is here.

COVID Safety: Masks are optional.

Covenant
By York Walker
Directed by Autumn Angelettie

CAST
Renea S. Brown: Avery
Raven Lorraine: Violet
Madison Norwood: Ruthie
Fatima Quander: Mama
Isaiah Q. Reed: Johnny
Jordan Taylor: Understudy

CREATIVE TEAM
Gisela Estrada: Scenic Design
Logan Benson & Rakell Foye: Costume Design
David Lamont Wilson: Sound Design
Colin K. Bills: Lighting Design
Trinity Joseph: Assistant Lighting Design
Ryan Phillips: Illusions Consultant
Justin Nepomuceno: Props Associate

PRODUCTION TEAM
Stage Manager: Regina Vitale
Assistant Stage Manager: Kelsey Jenkins

SEE ALSO:
Theater Alliance announces The Westerly as temporary venue for 2024/25 season (news story, October 2, 2024)

The post Riveting and spellbinding ‘Covenant’ at Theater Alliance appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

Re: Writing by Caitlin Frazier is an ambitious and provocative show.

Caitlin Frazier plays Jane, a struggling writer who couples with Dylan, played by Ella Manning. Both are winning performers, and their rapid progression — in true lesbian cliché fashion — from initial meeting to sharing a home and holidays is believable because of their convincing chemistry.

Jane wants to tell Dylan’s story. The more Jane learns about Dylan’s childhood secret the greater her desire to write a book about it despite Dylan’s reluctance to be commodified. The narrative swiftly moves as the relationship grows in tandem with Jane’s writing ambitions about Dylan’s story.

Their interactions are characterized by extensive word games and third-person captions previewing topics under consideration. Structurally, this choice leads to fast pacing. On the one hand it allows Frazier to cover a lot of territory about the characters’ likes and dislikes, their quirks and foibles. On the other hand, we experience a lot of telling instead of showing.

Notwithstanding wanting the hyperactive word games to end sooner, I did crave more words. I wanted words strung together to form deep and intimate conversations. In particular, despite the abundant banter and longer exchanges that highlighted Jane’s and Dylan’s differences and similarities, they never spoke about being in an interracial relationship. Director Olivia Martin states that the two “never quite share anything of actual substance” in a program note.

And yet, omitting how racial differences contributed to their personal perspectives regarding trivial or serious matters, or if race indeed affected their gay identities — in a work about identity — rendered Jane and Dylan less than whole and hinted at an inauthentic relationship. Moreover, I wondered about Jane navigating the publishing industry as a woman of color. I know it to be a high-wire act.

It’s clear that this production is meant to ask questions rather than provide answers. A wise person once told me that we define people, especially those close to us, by the questions we choose to ask and the answers we choose to believe. At a pivotal moment Jane asks Dylan, “Do you trust me?” Dylan’s reply and the ending (which comes suddenly) wrap the play in a set of questions about approximation, appropriation, creativity, and trust.

I would love to see further development of this brainy production. Without a doubt, however, it deserves a wide audience as is. In a world where so much of writing is appropriative, a play that illuminates the complexities of the issue is sorely needed.

Running Time: 60 minutes
Genre: Drama
Dates and Times:

• July 20 at 11:35 AM

Venue: Bliss, 1122 Connecticut Avenue NW
Tickets: $15
More Info and Tickets: RE: Writing

The complete 2024 Capital Fringe Festival schedule is online here.

The post 2024 Capital Fringe Review: ‘Re: Writing’ by Caitlin Frazier (3 ½ stars) appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

Firefighter Nick Baskerville’s solo production of Black Smoke Showing ignites a fire of curiosity about Black firefighters with an engaging storytelling mix of comedy, candid commentary, and charisma.

The show blends historical events and personal narrative. For example, Baskerville cleverly pairs sharing his research about Molly Williams (recognized as the first Black woman firefighter) with spending an afternoon connecting with his daughter.

We learn about the Freedom House Ambulance Service that served the predominantly Black community known as the Hill District in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The Ambulance Service was staffed solely by a cadre of African Americans who were trained to deliver emergency medical treatment on-site and en route to the hospital, making it the first paramedic program in the world. And we learn what happened when the city took it over.

Baskerville is a poised and charming storyteller, one obviously comfortable on the stage. He brought events to life with contagious cheer, wordplay, and occasional jokes. Moreover, his relaxed candor about race and the challenge of racism is noteworthy.

There were a few kinks. The pacing was affected by exchanges with the audience. On the other hand, Baskerville’s ease with us made for an intimate experience.  There was also confusing misnaming of one of the luminaries. Baskerville corrected himself when he realized it. Both those are minor details in an otherwise stellar Fringe debut.

When you first sit down to listen to Baskerville share stories about trailblazers like John Moon or Molly Williams, you might be tempted to wonder about the stakes for him and for the audience.  But the stakes and the relevance of the stories to today are clear by the end of the show. Baskerville desperately wants to avoid allowing the “firsts” for a specific contribution or role in fire service to be forgotten or overlooked any longer. He needs to share his knowledge (and correct misinformation) about the contributions of African American firefighters and organizations such as the African American Fire Fighters Historical Society, both to preserve a legacy and to inspire a new generation of brave African Americans to follow in his footsteps.

Baskerville performed this show because his passion for firefighting and sharing his knowledge about Black firefighters makes him happy.  Thus, it’s the perfect show to embody the theme of this year’s Fringe Festival, which is Happy. I’m happy I saw it.

Running Time: 75 minutes
Genre: Solo/Comedy
Dates and Times:

• July 20 at 7:05 PM

Venue: Delirium, 1120 Connecticut Avenue NW
Tickets: $15
More Info and Tickets: Black Smoke Showing: Stories of African American Firefighters

The complete 2024 Capital Fringe Festival schedule is online here.

The post 2024 Capital Fringe Review: ‘Black Smoke Showing: Stories of African American Firefighters’ by Nick Baskerville (4 stars) appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

Becky Bondurant has something to say and the guts to say it. In her remarkable one-woman Fringe show Penis Envy, Monolinguist, English professor, and writer Bondurant enthralls with verve, humor, astute insight, and raw honesty about — well no topic was taboo. This is fierce and fearless storytelling. The narrative unfolds in November 2016 when she eagerly awaited the birth of her daughter in tandem with the anticipated election of Hillary Clinton and the aftermath of her defeat in the electoral college. And we are still processing that, so thank you! From there Bondurant loops back to childhood and realizing all the presidents were men, and then back and forth in time, covering 9/11, her college years, writing and teaching, the birth of both her son and daughter, motherhood, circumcision and masturbation, politics and, yes, Freud’s defunct penis envy concept. Her weaving and unknotting of those last two items was particularly deft.

Being at the show was like spending the afternoon with a witty friend unafraid to say the things we are not supposed to say, your therapist, and your favorite political commentator all rolled into one. Bondurant’s confessions about the struggle to maintain dual identities of mother and writer really struck home. When her daughter said, “I want to kill you,” Bondurant replied, “You are.” I heard gasps along with “mm-hmm, yes” from the audience.

Bondurant’s performance and storytelling skills are exceptional. She’s enthralling. She held the audience’s attention throughout the show. Her well-timed pauses to let her words sink in, her facial expressions acknowledging the impact of her well-crafted language, and her own visible reactions to what she was admitting to thinking, doing, and saying. In fact, at the end of the show the auditorium was silent for more than ten seconds because we were all eager to hear what was next until we realized that our expectations for a bit more would have to come from seeing the show again.

The production was augmented by a brilliant set design consisting of original Presidential portraits and a playful playlist while we waited for the show to begin. By all measures, Penis Envy is a provocative and entertaining production by a virtuoso writer and performer. Don’t miss it.

Running Time: 50 minutes
Genre: Solo/Drama
Dates and Times:

• July 14 at 7:00 PM

Venue: Cafritz Hall, 1529 16th St NW
Tickets: $15
More Info and Tickets: Penis Envy

The post 2024 Capital Fringe Review: ‘Penis Envy’ by Becky Bondurant (5 stars) appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

Not everyone takes the time to look back to face the meaning of their life. And fewer still are willing to share their reckoning with a painful moment of truth from their history, one that’s set the stage for a life’s work. For Amy Oppenheimer, the monologist of Looking for Justice (in all the wrong places), the core of this impulse is her search for redemption. Hers is a heartbreaking, intimate, and memorable story. I recommend it.

Looking for Justice spans her late ’60s college years, setting out for “Bezerkley” (Berkley, California) from New York with a best friend, and crush turned boyfriend by the time they arrive, feminism circa the ’70s, uncertainty about latent lesbian identity, and the drama and trauma over sexual harassment and sexual violence. But the essence of the show centers on a pivotal decision that stuck with her through a career as a lawyer and judge. It’s one that will stick with you too.

The big reveal is shocking. You have to appreciate the significance of earlier events, such as Take Back the Night Marches, to fully grasp the momentousness of Oppenheimer’s deed. And if you participated in activist activities, Oppenheimer’s choice will land with greater resonance. If they are merely historical artifacts, then you might not become unglued, as I did upon learning what happened. However, make no mistake: Oppenheimer’s life-altering action is a stab to the listener’s heart regardless of personal experience.

Without giving anything away, the heart hurt the most was clearly Oppenheimer’s. As we watch her contemplate justice and forgiveness, a fundamental truth of Looking for Justice emerges: in the end, the stories we tell ourselves about what we did or didn’t do may matter more than what did or didn’t happen.

Running Time: 75 minutes
Genre: Solo/Drama
Dates and Times:

• July 14 at 5:40 PM

Venue: Bliss, 1122 Connecticut Avenue NW
Tickets: $15
More Info and Tickets: Looking for Justice (in all the wrong places)

The complete 2024 Capital Fringe Festival schedule is online here.

The post 2024 Capital Fringe Review: ‘Looking for Justice (in all the wrong places)’ by Amy Oppenheimer (4 stars) appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

Sometimes a show punches you in the gut even when you go in knowing the source material and fully aware that it’s not your grandfather’s musical. The world premiere of Long Way Down presented by the Olney Theatre Center is such a show. It’s challenging, chilling, and charged with emotion, sparking live-wire energy as if lightning might strike at any moment.

Long Way Down reckons with a reality of street rules when a loved one has been killed. When Will’s brother is slain, he must wrestle with the rules that he (and those before him) have respected and followed. No crying and no snitching are the first two. But it’s the third that thrusts Will into an abyss of anguished pain and misery: avenge the death. The entire story spans the 60 seconds it takes Will to ride in an elevator from the eighth floor to the lobby. He’s carrying a gun in his waistband, grief and anger by his sides. Will plans to kill his brother’s murderer, his traumatized psyche a jangle of random thoughts, as he descends floor by floor, joined on each one by ghosts from his past, each a former victim of gun violence.

The talented actors Tyrese Shawn Avery, Io Browne, Victor Musoni, Colin Carswell, Parris Lewis, Cheryse Dyllan, Quincy Vicks, and Naiqui Macabroad all excel in representing the moments, characters, and understandings of the lives that unfold before us.

Under Ken-Matt Martin’s capable direction, Long Way Down moves at a breakneck, breathless pace. The immersive performance forces you to question assumptions about the lives behind the statistics and the ready dismissals about the perpetrators and victims of gun violence.

The overall production design is outstanding. For example, Simean Carpenter’s set features a life-sized fabricated elevator complete with buttons. The open view of Will and Shawn’s bedroom wall displays a photo of Allen Iverson going to the hoop. Metal risers suggest cages echoing the elevator cage, and perhaps the mentally confining existence of the apartment’s inhabitants. Costume designs (Danielle Preston) portray the characters true to their essence and era. For example, Mike’s hair is covered by a knotted stocking cap (keeping his hair “tight”), and Uncle Mark wears a cap emblazoned with the name “Bullets.” (Old-school Washingtonians will recognize it as the former name of the Washington Wizards, who were known as the Washington Bullets from 1974 to 1997.)

Book/lyricist/composer Dahlak Brathwaite and Khiyon Hursey (additional writing) have created a narrative masterpiece. Their predominantly hip-hop storytelling is complex and nuanced. The language is rich. The poetry is powerful. The rhythms are varied with echoes of gospel, R&B, and Michael Jackson slipped in too.

I’ve read Jason Reynolds’ 2017 award-winning novel-in-verse, Long Way Down. The Olney Theatre’s R&B and hip-hop musical adaption allowed me to engage with the story with an added sense of urgency and immediacy. It put me inside Will’s head and forced me to feel his escalating tension and confusion as he traveled down, down, down. There are numerous showstoppers. One comes early from Io Browne, as Will’s mom. Her performance of “The Cry #1” completely blew me away. Tyrese Shawn Avery (Will) takes us on a journey to the lobby that is heartbreaking. His grief is palpable. His confusion is plausible. But his reality is undeniable because “The Rules” are inviolate. Why? Will tells us: “They weren’t meant to be broken. They were meant for the broken to follow.” As Will, Avery’s performance is a tour de force of believability through gesture, singing, movement, and soulfulness. He is stunning.

Music direction (Cedrick Lyles) and sound design (Kevin Lee Alexander) are stupendous. The prowess of the live accompaniment backing the book and lyrics is top shelf. It seamlessly switched multiple styles, tempos, and genres of the Black American music tradition, delivering an exuberant hip-hop and rap (predominantly) sound explosion. Harkening to some of the earlier time frames referenced in the show, if mixtapes of the show had been for sale they would have sold out.

The choreography (Ken-Matt Martin and Victor Musoni) is exceptional. It reflects and amplifies the dynamics between the characters on the stage from push and pull to tension, with characters circling one another as thoughts swirl in Will’s mind. It is moving and masterful. At the other end of the emotional spectrum, the joyous couple dance between Io Browne (Shari) and Quincy Vicks (Mike) is infectious and synchronized.

Olney Theatre’s Long Way Down is brutally beautiful. Opening night with Jason Reynolds in attendance was a triumph concluding with a sustained standing ovation. I highly recommend this haunting production. Approach it with an open mind. Depart it with an open if wounded heart.

Running Time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

Long Way Down plays through June 23, 2024, at Olney Theatre Center, Mulitz-Gudelsky Theatre Lab, 2001 Olney-Sandy Spring Road, Olney, MD. Tickets ($55–$90) are available online or through the box office at 301-924-3400, open from 12 pm – 6 pm Wednesdays through Saturdays. Discounts are available for groups, seniors, military, and students (for details click here).

The program for Long Way Down can be viewed here.

COVID Safety: Face masks are recommended but no longer required to attend events in any Olney Theatre Center performance spaces.

Long Way Down
Book, music, and lyrics by Dahlak Brathwaite
Additional writing by Khiyon Hursey
Adapted from the bestselling novel by Jason Reynolds
Co-choreographed by Ken-Matt Martin and Victor Musoni
Directed by Ken-Matt Martin
Music direction by Cedric Lyles

FEATURING
Tyrese Shawn Avery (Will), Io Browne (Shari), Victor Musoni (Shawn), Colin Carswell (Frick), Parris Lewis (Buck), Cheryse Dyllan (Dani), Quincy Vicks (Mike), Naiqui Macabroad (Mark).

LIVE ACCOMPANIMENT
Piano / Conductor: Cedric Lyles
Bass: J Anthony Dix
Percussion: Evander McLean

PRODUCTION DESIGN
Scenic and Lighting Design: Simean Carpenter
Costume Design: Danielle Preston
Music Programmer: Nick Hernandez
Sound Design: Kevin Lee Alexander
Stage Manager: Robbie Armstrong III

The post Brutally beautiful ‘Long Way Down’ triumphs at Olney Theatre Center appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

What happens when a lascivious lesbian has a mission to convert suburban housewives to … the climate-sustainable ways of permaculture? You won’t be able to resist either! Hurricane Diane is equal parts hilarious, sobering, pulpy, and poignant. Prepare to surrender to the gale force and butch charisma of Diane, incognito as the Greek god Dionysus, in this production presented by the Georgetown University Department of Performing Arts. This is an exceptional production that you don’t want to miss.

Hurricane Diane is Pulitzer Prize finalist playwright Madeleine George’s take on the mythical Greek god Dionysus, known chiefly as the deity of wine, fertility, and theater who surrounded himself with worshipful women as acolytes as a way to prove his powers. In George’s version, climate change, suburban gardening, and sexual seduction collide, and Dionysus is a woman who has been living among us in various guises, including a sailor, stripper, rock star, and mayor.

Most recently as explained in an opening monologue spectacularly delivered by Jane Cai as Diane, she’s been living off the grid with a bunch of lesbian separatists (in a “consensus-based community,” what else?) outside of Burlington, Vermont, operating her own landscaping business with a focus on sustainability and small-scale permaculture.

But now it’s time for Dionysus/Diane to return because humans are despoiling the earth to such a degree that humanity will be decimated and “there won’t be a single human left on the planet to worship me!” So, it’s time for a comeback, and Red Bank, New Jersey, suburbia is the perfect place, where Diane storms into the lives of four housewives living on a cul-de-sac to offer her services as a gardener like no other. The time implied is the recent Hurricane Sandy past.

Diane pulls out all the stops to convince the housewives to choose sustainability over curb appeal and appearances. She cajoles, reasons, and insists. She flirts and swaggers. And seduction is not off the table; it’s on the menu. A word here about that: Director Michael T. Williams stages the action clearly showing the housewives as willing participants giving in to Diane’s butch charisma, evident by the actors’ physical movements and reactions to Diane (and in one case being the aggressor rather than the pursued). And it’s obvious that Intimacy & Movement Choreographer Kate Al-Shamma approached the action and the actors with care and consideration. The seduction development and choreography is exquisite. So yes, Diane is lascivious — but seeking and receiving consent.

Additionally, the pacing is excellent. The script is full of zingers. It offers all of the actors an opportunity to shine, and shine they do. From the opening moment, Diane (Jane Cai) commands the stage using voice and body in a lengthy monologue that convinces you of her deity and passion for permaculture. Her charm keeps growing throughout the show. Her nods and winks to the audience pull us in. Cai’s comic timing is impeccable. Her performance is captivating and credible.

Diane first approaches Carol (Claire Cable), who admits her husband Bill doesn’t love her. Carol tells Diane, “I need you to bring my fantasies to life.” Those fantasies turn out to be a wrought-iron accent bench and a lawn with curb appeal in the mold of the prefect photo spreads she drools over in neighbor Renee’s HGTV magazine. It would be easy to dismiss Carol, who is all about “curb appeal.” But as embodied by Cable, Carol emerges as more than a comfort-seeking caricature. She reveals Carol’s inner torment and repressed rage while insisting Diane respect her boundaries. It’s a nuanced portrayal of a woman on the edge holding tight to a view of herself and her world seeking HGTV perfection.

Amelia Scott as Pam is simply magnetic as the opinionated, brassy, jewelry-laden, animal-print-wearing, heart-on-her-sleeve Italian American. She delivers so many hilarious lines with priceless aplomb. You can’t take your eyes off her. And her Jersey accent is killer and spot on. She’s the truth-teller, brutally direct but quick to apologize when she crosses the line. She’s entirely believable, and convincing in every respect.

Beth (Lucia McLaughlin) is terrific as the housewife with the overgrown lawn unattended since her husband left her. When we meet her she exudes fragility. McLaughlin demonstrates a range of emotions as she moves from insecure and insignificant to assured and confident. She changes her voice register and volume. Somehow, even her eyes twinkle after signing on to Diane’s agenda. It’s tough to play a part with so many layers, and McLaughlin does an excellent job.

Renee (Jazmyn Harmon), the HGTV executive, is the one housewife who needs no convincing about sustainable gardening or hooking up with Diane. She’s believable as the cutting-edge climate change acolyte who is eager to follow Diane’s lead. She plays Renee as likable and genial, yet ready to call out nonsense. Her silences carry as much weight as her dialogue.

Costume Designer Dorothy Barnes Driggers has done an excellent job outfitting each housewife, from Renee’s tunic to Pam’s snug animal prints to Carol’s Talbot’s look to Beth’s hoodie. Well done.

A single set represents all four kitchens of the housewives’ cookie-cutter houses. Jessica Trementozzi’s scenic design conveys New Jersey upper-middle-class affluence to perfection: a modern kitchen with wooden accents, a long island in the middle that I read as granite-topped with a sink in it flanked by four stools, a pricey stainless steel stove with raised vented hood, a set of multi-paned French doors that open to the garden in the rear. It’s the place where a bottle of wine is never far from reach, where things get cooking figuratively, where Diane flirts, while the housewives banter and bicker and occasionally engage the audience.

As a queer woman, it’s refreshing to experience DC theater on something of a tear this spring in featuring lesbians. Just a week ago I was delighted by the lesbians in Bryna Turner’s At the Wedding at Studio Theatre and now get to feast again on Madeleine George’s Hurricane Diane, with a play centered on another powerful woman, this one a masculine butch lesbian. I hope it’s the start of a new and renewed direction for DC theater. I want to see more lesbians, all of us in all of our diversity.

In the end, this reimagining of a Greek god is realistic and hopeful. Hurricane Diane implores us not to ignore the impending storms and disasters ahead. As the play closes with a new storm descending on the cul-de-sac, the question for the audience is, Are we going to wait until it is too late?

Running Time: Approximately 90 minutes with no intermission.

Hurricane Diane plays through April 20, 2024, presented by Georgetown University’s Department of Performing Arts Theater and Performance Studies Program performing in the Devine Studio Theatre of the Davis Performing Arts Center, Georgetown University, Georgetown University, 3700 O St NW, Washington, DC. Purchase tickets ($3 students, $10 general) online.

The performance on Thursday, April 18, will be ASL interpreted.

COVID Safety: Wearing a mask is optional. GU’s Coronavirus (COVID-19) Resource Center is here.

Hurricane Diane
By Madeleine George

CAST
Lucia McLaughlin as Beth; Amelia Scott as PAM; Jazmyn Harmon as RENEE; Jane Cai as DIANE; Claire Cable as CAROL; Jenna Pae (Swing, U/S Carol).

CREW
Director, Michael T. Williams; Associate Director, Ollie Henry; Assistant Directors, Joanna Ray & Briana Sparacino; Stage Manager, Shee Shee Jin; Assistant Stage Managers, Ava Schneiberg & Kat Bouker; Director of Production, Alicia DiGiorgi; Scenic Designer, Jessica Trementozzi; Lighting Designer, Kristin A. Thompson; Sound Designer & Composer, Michael Costagliola; Wardrobe Supervisor, Damien Sedlak; Props Designer, Isaac DeMarchi.

Assistant to the Scenic Designer, Liza Smaliak; Assistant Props Designer, Lindsay Khalluf; Costume Designer, Dorothy Barnes Driggers; Intimacy & Movement Choreographer, Kate Al-Shamma, Ph.D.; Dialect Coach, Kim Schraf; Dramaturg, Claire Catenaccio; Assistant Dramaturg, Scott Burke, Courtenay Kim-White, and Cynthia Yu; Community Engagement and Development Manager, Stanley Bahorek; Technical Advisor, Callan Daniel; PR/Marketing Specialist, Caitlin Lawlor.

The post A lesbian deity gets earthy in ‘Hurricane Diane’ at Georgetown appeared first on DC Theater Arts.