It is one thing to read “Dog bites man,” and somewhat of a curiosity to read “Man bites dog.”

But in the annals of the stage, it is rarer — an epochal event, in fact — to read “Man upstages dog.”

Shakespeare aficionados know all about this centuries-long battle between dog and man onstage, the eternal struggle for attention between a charmingly clueless pup named Crab (the Elizabethan equivalent of Rex or Fido?) and his utterly doomed owner, Launce, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona.

Launce, you see, is the servant of a feckless dude by the name of Proteus, and he has just been ordered to leave hearth and home in Verona to travel with his master to the big city of Milan. As Launce recounts his tearful departure — mom, dad, heck, even the cat drops a tear — he turns to Crab repeatedly for any sign of empathy only to find, well, a perfectly pleasant, indeed blissed-out, Zen of a dog who shows no emotion whatsoever.

And we in the audience, of course, have no sympathy for Launce whatsoever; after all, it was bone stupid to bring the dog onstage to begin with, all eyes will be on Crab for the duration.

Or so we thought…

There is, actually, a storyline built around this dog show, which I’ll get to in a minute; but first we must doff our caps to Geoffrey Warren Barnes II, whose charismatic turn as Launce manages the seemingly impossible feat of drawing focus away from Lady, the lovable mutt who often plays Crab’s role, and who would rather go paws-up in your lap than pay any attention whatsoever to Barnes. It is a signal achievement, peak-career stuff, to see anyone top this dog; the comedic chops required, the impeccable sense of timing, the ability to play along with the most impossible of scene partners, are golden.

What makes this canine spectacle even more charming is that the American Shakespeare Center is partnering with two local rescue organizations, the Friends of Staunton Augusta Waynesboro Animal Shelter ( https://friendsofsawas.org/ ) and the Augusta Regional SPCA (https://arspca.org/) to help find forever homes for Lady and her mates back at the shelter. There’s a nice display in the upstairs lobby, and numerous opportunities to interact with Lady both during and after the show at each performance. A worthier cause is hard to think of.

So now back to the storyline, if you’re at all interested in stuff like that: We find ourselves with two Gentlemen (i.e., dudes with trust funds) named Valentine and Proteus, who will soon find themselves on the road from Verona to Milan, where the bright lights and big city await. Proteus leaves The Love of His Life behind (Julia), swapping rings and all that. But once in Milan, Proteus forgets all about that ring business and decides he would much rather plot against his BFF Valentine, in order to get Silvia (who is daughter of the Duke of Milan and Valentine’s true love, naturally).

Plots ensue and Valentine is driven out of town, where he falls in with an amiable band of gentlemen-outlaws (think: Pirates of Penzance, in Renaissance drag). Back in Milan, Proteus’ plot fails miserably, and it doesn’t help that Julia, disguised as a boy, and now in Milan herself, has witnessed his perfidy. As the finale plays out, and as Valentine and Proteus exchange accusations and forgiveness, we’re left with the same two dudes alone onstage, and we have to wonder how on earth they’re going to get out of trouble with their respective mates, because it’s obvious to Julia and Silvia (not to mention the audience) that neither of them is an especially good catch.

Valentine and Proteus, in other words, end up in the dog house. (Sorry, couldn’t resist)

As Valentine, we have Joe Mucciolo, who has such a fine turn as the malevolent Tybalt in this fall’s Romeo and Juliet, but here he turns into a seemingly able suitor, calm and dignified, handy with a rapier, in fun or in earnest. And it’s a sign of the ASC’s deep bench that for the performance I just watched, understudy Pete Sheldon nails it as the duplicitous, scheming Proteus. Given the interactive nature of Blackfriars, when Proteus reveals his dastardly plans, he is met with a chorus of boos and hisses — which Sheldon takes in stride, almost as a compliment. Very nicely done indeed.

Directing this production is ASC veteran Aidan O’Reilly, who expands remarkably beyond his acting work, thanks to ASC’s Artists Development Initiative. Given his track record on the boards at Blackfriars (his Petruchio looms large in my mind), he’s an excellent fit for mining the comic potential of this play. There is much else to delight in here, in particular when contrasted with the other characters they play in the ASC’s fall repertory. As Proteus’ hometown sweetheart, Sara Linares’ Julia is joyful, and is as demure and self-respecting here as she is boisterous and bawdy as Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet. Ditto Maya Danks, whose Sylvia is as reserved and self-respecting as her Nurse in Romeo and Juliet is earthy.

As Speed, Valentine’s servant, Isabel Lee Roden has a similar reversal of character; no sooner do we see them as the modest Juliet one night, than we see them as outspoken, and fully capable of making us laugh ourselves silly, here in Two Gents. The one throughline, so to speak, is Christopher Seiler as the Duke of Milan, who is fittingly naïve even as he makes a big show of his authority; he is as clueless as Juliet’s dad in R&J as well (dads generally get short shrift with the Bard — wonder why).

This being Milan, and Sylvia being the Duke’s daughter and therefore an excellent catch, even though Valentine has caught Julia’s eye, he’s got competition in the form of an impossibly vain and foppish Thurio — played in completely over-the-top fashion by Nick Ericksen. His Thurio is as ridiculous as his Romeo (in, you know, that other show in the rep) is earnest. The guy’s talent for physical comedy is obvious just standing there — seriously, he doesn’t have to say a word to have you in stitches with his attitude.

And lest we forget that Milan is the very heart and soul of the fashion industry, this production also features some stand-out costumes; Elizabeth Wislar astonishes the eye with her textured fabrics, nicely cut to advantage, and she also isn’t above having fun at the expense of one of the spear-carrier roles, putting Nick Ericksen in a robe that fully matches the upstage curtain, creating the ever-popular “blends with the scenery” effect.

The pre-show and intermission tunes are a great fit, golden oldies all; there’s a touching tribute to the Turtles with “Happy Together,” led by Chris Seiler, and a girl-group tribute with Sara Linares leading her backup singers in a nicely-choreographed “Be My Baby.” Intermission, however, brings out the awesome showman Barnes as he proceeds to flirt with half the audience, singing Sam Cooke’s “You Send Me” (minus the dog this time), and Isabel Lee Roden rounds out in a tribute to Virginia’s own Patsy Cline with a heartfelt “She’s Got You.” Music Director Seiler has found a way to pinpoint songs that can serve an overarching theme, and Cline’s ballad works nicely at several points in the second act here.

As the title suggests, this comedy makes an interesting pairing with the tragic events of this ASC’s rep partner, Romeo and Juliet – in fact, Friar Lawrence gets mentioned here as if he were just down the block — and if you look closely, you just might see him for a split second! So you can think of this romantic comedy as R&J’s inverse, with intrigues of an amorous kind, but one in which the ending (thankfully) doesn’t involve a body count.

One last note, and a preview of coming attractions: If you like the lovable outlaws in Two Gentlemen of Verona, you’re gonna love the crowning production of this fall’s repertory, The Pirate Ballad of Bonny & Read, a new musical play based on the true story of two accomplished women who ruled the high seas.

What are you waiting for?

Running Time: Two hours and 15 minutes, including one intermission.

The Two Gentlemen of Verona plays to November 15, 2025, in repertory with Romeo and Juliet (to November 15) and the world premiere of The Pirate Ballad of Bonny and Read 2025 (October 16 to November 16) presented by American Shakespeare Center at the Blackfriars Playhouse, 10 South Market Street, Staunton, VA. For tickets (starting at $39), call the box office at (540) 851-3400 or purchase them online. ASC also offers a Local Rush deal of 50% off tickets on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Learn more here.

Cast and artistic team credits for Two Gentlemen of Verona are online here.

The fall season program is online here.

SEE ALSO:
‘Romeo and Juliet’ as endearing tweens at American Shakespeare Center (review by Andrew Walker White, September 11, 2025)

The post ‘Two Gentlemen of Verona’ at American Shakespeare Center is doggone good appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

If there ever was an actor meant to seize the stage in a role of authority, it is Virginia’s own Brandon Carter. Having established himself as a classical actor of considerable talents at Staunton’s American Shakespeare Center, he was the first Black actor to perform the entire three-play “Henriad” cycle (as Prince Hal in Henry IV Parts 1 and 2, and then in the title role as Henry V). His return to the Folger Theatre, after a turn as Friar Lawrence in Raymond O. Caldwell’s recent production of Romeo and Juliet, is auspicious, especially in times darkly tinged by politically motivated violence. He comes to our stage in a vitally important cautionary tale, one that Washington desperately needs at this historical moment.

Carter’s upcoming turn in the title role of Al Letson’s Julius X offers a bold re-imagining of Shakespeare’s Roman classic, from a distinctly American perspective. Inspired in equal parts by the Bard’s take on Julius Caesar and by the legacy of Malcolm X (himself the victim of an insider assassination plot), the play emphasizes the humanity of a semi-fictional African American leader whose journey from the lower depths to public prominence is by turns inspiring and cautionary.

The play’s opening words summarize the unique combination of history and fiction that lies at the heart of the drama: “This is not a story you know, but somewhere in between.” As Carter himself stresses, “This is not a story of Malcolm X in particular; it has elements from it, but it also has elements from Al Letson’s mind, and elements from Julius Caesar.”

What theater does best, always does best, is to bring seemingly familiar figures to life, and give them a depth well beyond the confines of the two-dimensional legend we have come to know. “What I love about plays like this,” says Carter, “I love seeing plays where there’s a possibility that this person was human. I think we don’t have many accounts of that in history where we see figures as human. We might think we know about figures like Malcolm or Julius Caesar, but Shakespeare wants to show us another aspect, and Al Letson wants to show us even more.”

Growing up in what Carter characterizes as “more of a Dr. King family,” he never realized the challenges Malcolm faced as he grew up. Carter recommends that audiences dive into Malcolm X’s autobiography (co-authored with Alex Haley), because it is there that we can appreciate the challenges Malcolm faced from a very early age. His father, part of Marcus Garvey’s Pan-African movement, was murdered when Malcolm was just a boy, and that loss led directly to the devastating loss of his mother to mental illness. After years in Boston and then as a hustler in Harlem, Malcolm ended up in prison — where, newly driven, he devoted himself to self-education, self-reconstruction, and conversion to Elijah Muhammad’s brand of Islam. It is during this time that he rejects his birth name, Little, and adopts the famous “X” as a reminder that, as a man descended from enslaved Africans, his true name and ancestry were stolen from him.

As Carter says, “I didn’t know how Malcolm X was at the bottom of the bottom. I knew that he went to prison, but I didn’t know about his full experience: that he went through all of that to become the man that we know, the icon that is as much known as the face. The ‘X’ is known just as much as James Dean and Marilyn Monroe, but we actually don’t know the person, and in the depictions of him, we have a version of him, and that’s not truly him.”

The language of Letson’s treatment of Malcolm/Julius X is planted firmly in the worlds of jazz and hip-hop; although this might require some attitude adjustment, we must remember that the iambic pentameter we associate with Shakespeare was the hip-hop of his generation. Elizabethan bards used pentameter as their beat-box, syncopating, rhyming, and singing their stories to spellbound audiences in London’s Globe and beyond. Music, and a dynamic relationship with the audience — which routinely talked back to the actors throughout the show — was the essence of the Globe Theatre experience, and it’s one that director Nicole Brewer is actively working to re-create at the Folger.

As for the rehearsal process, Carter can’t say enough about director Nicole Brewer’s generous spirit: “I love Nicole’s [rehearsal] room, I love rooms like that, and I think her experience in anti-racist theater, and her intention to re-mix the space, it’s just vital to making sure that Shakespeare adaptations like this are treated like a new play, because everyone’s bringing their different sides. We’re all strangers coming to this place and bringing our different experiences to tell a story. I think her room in particular needs this because of the improv nature of hip-hop and jazz.”

Given the tensions of Malcolm’s days, tensions we are all too familiar with today as shots continue to ring out against leaders of the right and the left, another anchor for Julius X is the need to take a deep breath and reflect on the central character’s humanity. As Carter puts it, “I think the main thing I got from Brewer from the beginning was this is a story of brotherhood and of love, and I think that he led the way to how we’re sharing this piece. I just want to honor the guy; I know it’s not Malcolm X precisely, but it is Malcolm X, and I want to give as much honor to him and the story as I can.”

He also hints at Shakespearean treatments he’d like to see in the not-too-distant future: “There aren’t many opportunities to play a legend, you know, unless Obama comes along, you know, hint-hint, you know, there’s not a lot of opportunities to play this, so it is important to me, there’s a responsibility to honor the guy. Malcolm is a little bit more of a humble leader. And I think we get that side of his humility, whereas Julius Caesar is more of the arrogant, self-righteous guy where you want this guy to go.”

Carter also understands the ways in which internal politics drive the plots and counter-plots for both of the stories that meet in this play. And the lessons of both times inform our extremely volatile present. “Rome fell from within. The [Black Muslim] brotherhood fell from within. That is something you can’t escape from; you’re layering this on the remix of this play. It becomes a cautionary tale; when people talk about shutting it down and taking people out, there are consequences. We don’t run from that in this production, and I think this is what makes the Folger a great place to be right now.”

This upcoming production also represents a culmination, of sorts, because of the invaluable contribution Brandon Carter made to Virginia theater after his recent turn as artistic director at the American Shakespeare Center. His leadership, through deeply troubling times at the Blackfriars Playhouse, helped to guarantee that it could survive and thrive, after crises that have crippled professional companies nationwide. That Carter rose to the challenge armed with not just performing arts chops but a minor in Strategic and Organizational Communications from his alma mater, Longwood University, seemed more than fortuitous; there was something about it that seemed destined to be a good fit.

Make no mistake: this production will be one that defines the 2025/26 season here in Washington, DC, and Brandon Carter is more than up to the challenge. Be there.

Folger Theatre’s production of Julius X plays from September 23 to October 26, 2025, at the Folger Shakespeare Library, 201 East Capitol Street, SE, Washington, DC. Accessible performances and related programming will be offered throughout the run of the production and are listed on the show page. Tickets ($20–$90) are available online at www.folger.edu/juliusx, by calling the Folger Box Office at (202) 544-7077, or through TodayTix.

SEE ALSO:
Folger Theatre announces cast and creative team for ‘Julius X’ (news story, August 26, 2025)

The post Brandon Carter on Malcolm X and playing ‘Julius X’ at Folger appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

The trick to performing a centuries-old hit like Romeo and Juliet is simple, but hard to pull off: pretend you have never seen the script before. Go for it with passion, and spontaneity, so you and the audience can forget that everybody already knows half the lines by heart. Leave audiences on the edge of their seat, wondering whether Juliet, perched on high, is really going back into bed, or whether she’ll rush back to the balcony once more to catch a glimpse of her gorgeous beau.

The beauty of the American Shakespeare Center’s rehearsal methods — drawing on those of Shakespeare’s original company — is that spontaneity is reintroduced, by necessity. And those methods have a huge payoff in this fall’s production of the Bard’s ever-popular romantic classic. It’s bawdy, brassy; it kicks you in the gut (and other nether regions) and gives you a night to remember.

It’s easy to forget that the original romantic couple, the inspiration for this play, were essentially middle-schoolers. Shakespeare makes a point of reminding us, time after time, that Romeo and Juliet are still kids wrestling with feelings over which they have no control. And they’re surrounded by peers who have no ability to control their impulses either. The urges to violence and sex are strong throughout their young cohort, and it is the failure to master either impulse that is at the heart of the tragedy.

What makes this production especially endearing is that Nick Ericksen and Isabel Lee Roden, in the title roles, embrace their inner tween selves. Ericksen’s Romeo is a dreamboat, to be sure, but clearly awkward in his newly-tall, newly-muscular body. No sooner does he make you swoon with a line or two than he falls flat on his face — his pratfalls are priceless, and perfectly timed. And Roden’s physical impulsiveness, coupled with the way she just bursts out with Juliet’s lines, convinces you that she’s never had these thoughts, let alone spoken them, ever before. The couple offer us a truly fresh take on familiar themes, and it’s a joy to watch.

Romance aside, fair Verona has its share of characters; you need look no further than Romeo’s bosom pals, Benvolio and Mercutio. Geoffrey Warren Barnes II and Sara Linares seem to have come straight out of the Montague locker room, with their boozy, bawdy playfulness on full display. Team Montague clearly loves to party, and they’ll run through every sexual metaphor imaginable, and maybe come up with a new one or two. Barnes and Linares rule the stage with their debauched attitudes; even their hangovers are priceless.

Joe Mucciolo’s Tybalt, on the other hand, from Team Capulet, reminds us of the darker side of youth, with its impulse to rage and destruction. When Tybalt discovers that Romeo has crashed the Capulets’ party, it’s everything Lord Capulet can do to avoid a bloodbath right there on the dance floor. What’s fascinating is to realize that even the grownups here have their own impulses. As Lord Capulet, Christopher Seiler has no sooner calmed down Tybalt’s rage than he re-engages with his own inner teen, spontaneously combusting when he discovers that Juliet has no interest in marrying the man he’s picked out for her.

As Paris, the man Juliet is supposed to marry, Britt Michael Gordon gives us a solid dude, who knows he’s entitled to the girl who will get him the right connections and just the right amount of dough in the bargain. In true Renaissance fashion, he also shows off his chops as a troubadour (the song selection owing more to Justin Timberlake, in this instance), and unintentionally plays just the right tune for Romeo and Juliet’s first romantic encounter.

The pivotal figure in any production of Romeo and Juliet is Friar Lawrence, and this production features one of the strongest, most authoritative friars you will ever see. It is tempting, perhaps out of deference to the leads, to play the monk as meek and mild, forgetting the highly politically charged environment in which this Renaissance Italian friar moved. Angela Iannone, thankfully, ditches the meek-and-mild bit, taking hold of the role with a cunning and passion that reminds us how vitally important Lawrence’s decisions are. And as those well-laid plans begin to fall apart, Lawrence is not above subterfuge and deception to make sure this young couple survives; monks in those days had spiritual authority and gravitas, and Iannone doesn’t hesitate to remind us.

Music Director Christopher Seiler has created a tight ensemble for pre-show and intermission, and the evening kicks off brilliantly with a moving rendition of Stevie Wonder’s “Love’s in Need of Love Today,” with Geoffrey Warren Barnes II leading a troupe whose harmonies will give you chills. Maya Danks, this production’s loquacious Nurse, also has a fine turn singing Melissa Etheridge’s “Come to My Window” at intermission. The show features live musical accompaniment throughout as well, with Britt Michael Gordon serenading us as Paris, after his pre-show take on Death Cab for Cutie’s “I Will Follow You Into the Dark.”

Elizabeth Weslar’s costumes here are wonderfully evocative, with richly-textured patchwork jackets and harem pants for the younger folk and straight-laced business attire for the adults — or, should I say, the ones who feel obliged to at least dress as grownups. Her Romeo sports bright yellow jeans, strategically distressed, to offset Juliet’s green sweats and thickly-soled, glittery sneakers, fashion statements that go a little over my head but which I’m sure the younger audience members will glom onto.

As the time approaches for fall foliage and apples by the peck and bushel, the ASC stands ready to welcome you with its repertory. Romeo and Juliet is just the beginning of what should be another great season of classic shows — Two Gentlemen of Verona comes up next, and there will be a world premiere of The Pirate Ballad of Bonny and Read, celebrating the exploits of two of the Caribbean’s most notorious women.

Running Time: Two hours and 15 minutes, including one intermission.

Romeo and Juliet plays through November 15, 2025, in repertory with Two Gentlemen of Verona (September 11 to November 15) and the world premiere of The Pirate Ballad of Bonny and Read 2025 (October 16 to November 16) presented by American Shakespeare Center at the Blackfriars Playhouse, 10 South Market Street, Staunton, VA. For tickets (starting at $39), call the box office at (540) 851-3400 or purchase them online. ASC also offers a Local Rush deal of 50% off tickets on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Learn more here.

Cast and artistic team credits for Romeo and Juliet are online here.

The fall season program is online here.

The post ‘Romeo and Juliet’ as endearing tweens at American Shakespeare Center appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

Summer is always a great time to hit the road and explore theater companies yet unseen; this year, for the first time, I hit Pittsburgh because word had it that there was a dynamite production of Anton Chekhov’s classic The Seagull (here simply Seagull). The kicker was that it was staged in a temporary open-air theater on the Chatham University campus, which is as picturesque as it gets. The stage, flanked by frequently opened gauze curtains, was backed by a small pond and surrounded by a green meadow, which was exploited by the cast in ways that were truly delightful to see, with parallel “silent” scenes playing out to complement the onstage dialogue.

The production featured a new approach to the central character of Constantine (the brooding, tortured avant-garde artiste), which created a new dynamic among Chekhov’s characters and made the visit all the more worthwhile. Adaptor and Director Joanie Schultz has taken a sprawling, three-plus-hours slog of a play, condensed it to some two hours’ traffic, and, to top it all off, has also unleashed her company of talented actors to explore Chatham’s grounds.

The result is a concise, environmentally vivid rendering of a play that seems set literally in the countryside, complete with all the cicadas, birds, and even rabbits, whose timing for entrances and exits is exquisite, I must say. The sense of place is fully realized, and the energy of the space alone is worth the ticket. Quantum Theatre specializes in staging productions in spaces that are not theaters, using neutral spaces as opportunities for actors to explore new relationships with their audiences and each other.

Anchoring this production, and setting it ablaze with passion, is Phoebe Lloyd’s turn as Constantine; in Schultz’s adaptation, the young, aspiring playwright is a daughter who identifies as male (née Katerina); and although much could be made of the “queering” of this classic character, the brilliance and vulnerability Lloyd brings to the role leaves all academic theorizing in the dust (or, there being a pond here, in the muck). We’re not watching a grad student thesis project brought awkwardly to life; what we see in Lloyd is a human being, struggling with misprized love and the crushing disappointment of having a famous mother — Arkadina, played with fire by Lisa Velten Smith — who only pretends to give a damn.

The dynamic between Smith’s Arkadina and Lloyd’s Constantine is here recast as a variation on the eternal mother-daughter struggle, with moments of loving tenderness turning on a dime to bitter rebuke. The battle between mother and child in this play has never been as vivid as it is here, and in Schultz’s able hands, there is no sense of a play out of kilter. Because of her fidelity to the original script, Schultz’s big change is easily taken in stride, offering us a fresh look at Seagull and reminding many of us what drew us to Chekhov in the first place. The struggle for love, for new art, and for authenticity is real for all of us in the theater, whoever we may be, however we understand ourselves.

Perhaps one of the most pleasant surprises of the evening is Maxine Coltin’s turn as Masha, the local country girl smitten with Constantine. In other productions I’ve seen, her character blends with the woodwork after her opening line (“I’m in mourning for my life”), but Coltin’s presence always adds an element of exquisite irony; her ever-present hip flask illustrates her ennui, her cynicism, complicated, of course, by her undying, unrequited love for Constantine.

Chekhov loves to create romantic merry-go-rounds, in which A loves B, who’s in love with C, who’s in love with Z, who gets no rest (I hope you get the picture). I say this because Coltin’s Masha is also part of one of the most hilarious, unscripted uses of the meadow behind the stage. While a couple of actors under the klieg lights chatter away about something forgettable, in the distance we first see Lloyd’s Constantine jump out from behind a bush, racing furiously stage left — only to be followed a short while later by Coltin’s Masha, whose pursuit is, of course, hopeless. (Keep your eyes peeled, in other words.)

There isn’t a weak link anywhere in the cast; Evan Vines’ Medvedenko, the sad sack school teacher whom Masha reluctantly marries, creates ample sympathy as his attempt to get attention — let alone affection — fails miserably. And as Arkadina’s fun-loving brother, Sorin, Ken Bolden personifies the bon vivant retiree who’d fit in perfectly on that next Viking cruise, his doctor’s sage advice notwithstanding.

Meanwhile as Dorn, the village doctor (who is supremely annoyed by Sorin’s booze and tobacco habits), Daniel Krell gives us a glimpse of that golden boy who always got the girl for years, and whose possible fling with Polina might explain his unusually sympathetic talks with Masha (who maybe possibly was the product of that possible fling? We’ll never tell).

Unlike all the other characters we encounter, Paul Anderson’s turn as Shamraev, the estate’s manager, provides that much-needed reality check. Because for all of Arkadina’s fame and fortune, it is Shamraev who actually controls her comings and goings, because the horses she needs for her trips into town, or to the train station, are needed in the fields where the late summer grain harvest is already in full swing. (As Chekhov, ever the pragmatist, would remind us: no harvest, no money; no money, no estate; no estate, no fancy dresses, and no excuse for putting on airs.) Equally grounded, and wary of the main characters, is Shamraev’s wife Polina, played here with just the right touch of gravitas by Gwendolyn Kelso. And yeah, she’s got eyes for Dorn.

As Chekhov’s alter ego, the writer Trigorin, Brett Mack does a great job of at least pretending not to understand why everyone makes such a fuss about him. He’s Arkadina’s plus-one, for now, and she clearly regards him as a trophy never to be surrendered. Trigorin’s long confessional monologue, where he lays out his almost OCD-like need to write about everything and everyone, is delivered with one eye on his faux modesty, and another eye on gaining the sympathy, and romantic attentions, of Nina, a local girl who aspires to a career on the stage like that of Arkadina. His obsession with young girls is matched by his need to use Nina as fodder for his fiction, and use her he most definitely does.

So now we come to Nina, who in other productions (and in Chekhov’s eyes) is the center of attention: a village girl who grew up on the same lake as Arkadina, smitten with the theater bug. In most productions, she is crafted to be a tragic figure, an Ophelia-like waif who is abused and discarded by Trigorin in her quest for stardom. Here, however, Schultz has decided to give her Nina, played forcefully throughout by Julia Rocha, an entirely different character.

Assertive and ambitious from the beginning, she engages in a consensual kiss with Constantine at the very opening of the play (by contrast, Chekhov has her dodging Constantine’s embrace with a silly question about a tree). Her response to Trigorin’s long lament about his work is met with glances that are more wary and calculating than sympathetic. This is definitely a young woman who can pinpoint that precise quote in that one story, have it engraved in a locket, and use that locket to leave Trigorin helpless. Not a waif in sight.

It makes sense to give Nina more agency, from our modern perspective, and I fully understand why Schultz would want something more out of this part than just the usual pathetic victim. The biggest change comes with her final scene, where Rocha repeats the famous line:

“I am a seagull; no, I am an actress.”

Originally, this line was designed to show a woman who was distracted, desperately trying to keep it together, half-losing her grip on reality. Here, however, Nina’s refusal to show any signs of distress, let alone remorse — not even for the baby, which she bore and lost — creates a very different ending. Nina is on her way to a small provincial  theater, and knows she’ll have to put up with advances from the local men (with whom she may have to sleep, in order to pay for the costumes she’ll use onstage). But this Nina is OK with it, and embraces what she has to do, to have a career.

Put it another way; in most productions Nina is a Russian version of Ophelia; in this production, Nina has matured to become a younger version of Arkadina, equally tough on the outside, and equally reluctant to show any vulnerability whatsoever. Smith and Rocha end up mirroring each other in fascinating ways. And it is Constantine’s realization that Nina has a strength of character that he lacks — that she has become his mother — which leads to the play’s climactic scene, after Nina’s final departure, played out by Lloyd in complete silence.

The design team here is stellar; I was immediately struck by the symbolism of Ryan McMasters’ incidental music before the show, cascading notes on a keyboard accompanied by staccato violin, previewing the tensions we’re about to witness. His interludes shift, from one act to the next, mirroring the action in fascinating ways. Costume Designer Damian E. Dominguez finds just the right balance, between the plain workaday wear favored by Shamraev (and also by Trigorin, ever the fake working stiff) and Arkadina’s dazzling dresses, clearly designed to stop the conversation dead in its tracks. His designs for Nina, too, help to tell her story; from demure, to hot on Trigorin’s trail, to maturity, we see exactly where she is and who she thinks she is.

Given this production’s choice of site Chelsea Warren’s task, as scenic designer, was something of a challenge; there needed to be some sort of performance area for the dialogue, and for the opening play-within-a-play, but there also needed to be visual breathing room for the surroundings, which do so much of the “scenic” work from an audience’s perspective. The placement of posts and gauze curtains, easily dropped and raised, creates the illusion that both the stage and the environment are working together. C. Todd Brown’s lighting, meanwhile, apart from the usual stage wash, features some discreetly-lit drum faces lining the pond behind the stage, which — if you look closely — adopt red, beady eyes during the opening sequence.

In the program notes for this production, Joanie Schultz makes clear that this version of Seagull, a labor of love that was years in the making, is designed in part to honor and reflect upon her own personal struggles, which have been intense indeed. What’s fascinating is that she not only identifies with Constantine’s struggles, but she also chooses to find strength in Nina and her insistence on staying with the theater, come what may.

Schultz, whose work has been seen at Baltimore’s Everyman Theatre and Studio Theatre in Washington, DC (where she has also served as an artistic cabinet member), has created a concept for Seagull that is as visceral as it is new. It is a loving variation on Chekhovian themes, and a great way to introduce new audiences to this seemingly stale, dead white guy’s work.

Running Time: Two hours and 15 minutes, including one intermission.

Seagull plays through August 17, 2025, presented by Quantum Theatre performing outdoors on the Chatham University campus in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Ticket prices vary from $35 to $70. For more information, visit quantumtheatre.com/seagull/

Seagull
Based on the play by Anton Chekhov
Adapted and Directed by Joanie Schultz

The post A visit to an open-air ‘Seagull’ in Pittsburgh that’s as visceral as it is new appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

Face it — whenever Shakespeare’s immortal one-liners come up, who cares if Hamlet blathers on about “to be or not to be,” or whether some are born great, become great, or have greatness thrust upon ’em? Because one of the Bard’s greatest lines wasn’t even spoken by anybody onstage; it was just a note for the stage manager about a bit of blocking, to wit: “Exit, pursued by bear.”

I mean, a bear? Onstage!?!

Admit it — you’ve always wanted to see this done live, right? Well, now’s your chance. And when it’s over, the bear will loom large in your memory, but so will the rest of the American Shakespeare Center’s brilliant production of Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale. Director Raphael Emmanuel makes the most of this exotic play with its international setting, and gives its characters a contemporary, truly soulful twist.

From the minute the cast dives into the preshow tunes, with Marvin Gaye’s immortal “I Heard It Through the Grapevine,” you’ll find yourself immersed in a world of familiar emotions — jealousy, hatred, regret — and the emotional pitch, toggling as it does between tragedy and comedy, remains high throughout. This is a play that, confusing on the page, must be seen live to be enjoyed, and the ASC’s repertory company navigates its many twists and turns with great skill indeed.

Anchoring our journey is the royal couple of Sicilia, Leontes — the bold, forceful Jordan Friend — and his queen Hermione — played with grace and profound emotion by Raven Lorraine. When Leontes suspects his pregnant wife has been sleeping with his best friend, Bohemian King Polixenes (the cool, measured L James), and that her baby-to-be might not be his own, Leontes erupts into a jealous rage of the kind we know too well.

Leontes’ must trusted aides — Antigonus and Paulina — make a strong argument for Hermione’s innocence, and Angela Iannone and Sara J. Griffin are standouts for their gravitas and their passion for justice. And Hermione’s statement — this is not a plea, it’s a statement — of her innocence is moving in its simplicity; Lorraine’s delivery is one of the pivotal moments here.

This being set in pre-Christian times, the oracle of the god Apollo at Delphi is consulted; and this being a play, the trip from Sicilia to Greece and back takes minutes rather than months. And when Leontes rejects the god’s judgment, divine vengeance takes its toll on him with equal speed. His rage is converted instantly to grief and bottomless regret, and the rest of the play deals with the question of whether and how he can atone and perhaps reconcile with his beloved wife.

The Winter’s Tale is a sprawling story that toggles back and forth between a staid, proper Sicilia and a hip, somewhat hazily conceived Bohemia (i.e., it ain’t got no sea ports, and it sure ain’t got no navy; it’s landlocked — look it up). Emmanuel saves the visual delights of this production for our journey to his African-American take on Bohemia, with the balcony decked out in vinyl LPs and paintings unfurled along the railings inspired by Jacob Lawrence (be sure to look up his amazing work before you go).

Once in Bohemia, you’ll also find that costume designer Elizabeth Wislar has pulled out the stops with some of the most exotic, Eastern European–inspired pieces you’ll see this side of Appalachia. She creates a feast for the eyes to match the words and actions.

Bohemia proves as carefree and hilarious as Sicilia is dark and brooding, and it is here that the virtuosity of two of the ASC’s players is proven beyond a doubt. For no sooner has Raven Lorraine’s stately Hermione (apparently) died than she wanders into the audience as an Old Shepherd. The same actress who, moments ago, nearly brought you to tears now has you laughing your tail off with her antics and her thick, thick accent.

Joining her in her funny business is Angela Iannone, who likewise makes that astonishing switch that only true actors can make; one minute she holds the stage as Leontes’ chief of staff Antigonus, and the next she is the hickest of hicks, rivaling Lorraine in the thickness of her dialect and her talent for physical comedy. It is these two bumpkins who discover Hermione’s doomed baby, complete with letters detailing her true identity — Perdita, princess of Sicilia — and who proceed to live pretty high on the hog with the gold that has been left with that baby.

Since the play requires some 16 years to resolve itself, Shakespeare introduces the character of Time, who, decked in a blazing yellow zoot suit, informs us he’s going to just tip over that hourglass for us. Geoffrey Warren Barnes II gives us this brash showman, and re-enters soon after as the rascal Autolycus, whose thieving habits unintentionally resolve a lot of the plot’s issues.

A romance ensues in Bohemia between Prince Florizel (the solid Komi M. Gbeblewou) and the now-grown, seemingly common shepherd’s daughter, Perdita (gracefully played by Corrie Green). This plot twist, of course, creates new complications that can only be resolved through Shakespeare’s traditional twists and turns.

Among the many pleasures of any ASC production is the musical pre-show and intermission, with songs that suit the themes of The Winter’s Tale in a very contemporary way. We get treated to a slide guitar, played skillfully by Jordan Friend as he sings Wolf Parade’s “Grounds for Divorce” (as fitting a tune for Leontes as can be). And there is also ample room to tip the hat toward Harlem, with Fats Waller’s “Ain’t Misbehavin,” while Cole Porter’s “What Is This Thing Called Love?” made immortal by Ella Fitzgerald, sets the tone for the play’s denouement.

Shakespeare’s later plays were, dramatically and geographically, all over the map; and The Winter’s Tale is designed to astonish you with its virtuosity; he pulls it off, of course, but only because the ASC’s repertory company knows how it’s done. This production will take you on an emotional rollercoaster, which, with its theme of unfounded suspicion, reflects in interesting ways on our own times. Well worth the journey, both the play and Staunton, Virginia, itself.

On a personal note: It’s always inspiring to see how the ASC opens its doors to aspiring young artists, and on the night I was there, I got to see the next generation of stage performers, many of them sitting on the stage and taking part in the action. ASC hosts two Theatre Camps for teenagers, and each year the camps are grouped around specific plays and themes (this year it’s the history plays!). Have a look at this year’s program here, and think of a special young person in your life who might get a kick out of a three-week, residential intensive!

And if you’re just a touch beyond your teenage years, as (ahem) I might be, do not despair; the ASC also offers week-long “No Kidding” workshops for adults, where you can do a crash course in the unique Blackfriars techniques of performing Shakespeare. The more mature among you may wish to visit here as well.

Running Time: Two hours and 20 minutes, including one intermission.

The Winter’s Tale plays through August 2, 2025, in repertory with Sense and Sensibility (through August 2), presented by American Shakespeare Center at the Blackfriars Playhouse, 10 South Market Street, Staunton, VA. For tickets (starting at $39), call the box office at (540) 851-3400 or purchase them online. ASC also offers a Local Rush deal of 50% off tickets on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Learn more here.

The summer program is online here.

Cast and artistic team credits for The Winter’s Tale are online here (scroll down).

SEE ALSO:
American Shakespeare Center’s ‘Sense and Sensibility,’ up close and relatable (review by Andrew Walker White, May 10, 2025)

The post A memorably brilliant ‘The Winter’s Tale’ at American Shakespeare Center appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

There’s something special about a live, lights-up performance of Jane Austen’s novels; even if you know the characters and the stories by heart, there’s a special thrill having them come to life before your very eyes, just a few feet from where you sit. And as they take turns pleading their case, directly to you, you have the power to respond to them — with applause, with nodding and shaking heads, even with invective, as you please.

With the American Shakespeare Center’s current production of Sense and Sensibility, newly adapted by Emma Whipday with Brian McMahon, you have an unprecedented opportunity to get up close and personal with the likes of Marianne and Elinor Dashwood, two sisters not the least bit alike in temperament but who must face together the trials of being deliberately dispossessed by their closest relatives. As they navigate, men arrive, men leave, and — here’s the thrill — men propose too!

Director Jemma Alix Levy is aware of the vast differences between Austen’s time and our own, and crafts an evening that gives you the opportunity to see your own journey in these characters — the shy young women and men, accustomed to being passed over; the brassy young men, the arrogant ones who damage others but who (in this story, at least) get their comeuppance. It’s amazing what a difference it makes when these characters are close enough to touch, because their relatability, 200 years on, reminds us why Austen is still one of our most popular authors.

As the long-suffering Dashwood sisters, Corrie Green (Marianne) and Sara J. Griffin (Elinor) create the kind of sibling rivalry, and the personal chemistry, that should come as no surprise to Austen fans — and sisters in the audience alike. Green’s passion and her absolute, metaphysical certainties, which are due to be tested in short order, contrast perfectly with Griffin’s reserved, sober eye on the world. Elinor’s reserve, in particular, is as discreet as it is riveting, as she quietly endures love and loss. Keep your eyes on Griffin, because it is the resolve to keep her feelings well hid that defines Elinor, with only the slightest gleam in the eye to tell you what’s really going on inside her head.

We’ll get to the guys in a minute, but first: Raven Lorraine is an absolute standout, tackling two truly conniving, gold-digging women with all the arrogance and self-assurance you might expect. As Fanny Dashwood, who deliberately impoverishes Elinor and Marianne, Lorraine is decked gloriously in black by Costume Designer Elizabeth Wislar. The costume and the actor are a perfect match, as we see her whittle away the girls’ inheritance to next to nothing. And her return as Lucy Steele — ever hungry for a man’s dough — is just as delicious and just as vicious. (Those boo’s and hisses you hear are no mistake, people.)

There is, of course, a true cad in the mix – John Willoughby, played here with deceptive charm by Komi M. Gbeblewou. This is just the sort of rake called for, dashing in appearance (again, thanks to Wislar), with confidence to spare, but utterly self-absorbed. When Willoughby’s abuses finally catch up with him, and he is reduced to pleading his case before Elinor — Marianne, the innocent girl he jilted, can’t stand to be near him — we feel no sympathy for him whatsoever. Don’t be surprised if, in addition to the boo’s and hisses, one hears someone utter insults his way as he makes his final, pathetic, departure (“Jerk!” was distinctly heard the night I was there).

Now for the good guys — you know, the ones you always ignore at first, but who turn out to have hearts of gold? Yeah, those fellas. Geoffrey Warren Barnes II’s turn as Edward Ferrars is nicely done, the shyness and the eagerness to please, the desperation never to offend (upended by the entrance of Miss Steele, see above), all endear him to us, and the resolution of his search for a mate is, of course, happily concluded. Barnes’ turn as Sir John Middleton reminds us, too, that he can do bold and brassy with the best of ’em as well.

Meanwhile, in Jordan Friend, we have a fine Colonel Brandon, the “old man” of the bunch, completely irrelevant at first, of course, but once he has an opportunity to show his kindness, the wall between Brandon and his intended dissolves into a very happy ending indeed.

This being a Shakespeare company, it is a real treat to see the passages the cast chooses to highlight as part of the action — Marianne being passionate for the plays, has two different reading partners at different points, and chances are you’ll be quite familiar with the scenes they choose to read aloud for us.

The festivities get off to a truly rollicking start in the pre-show, with Barnes’ take on Stephen Stills’ classic “Love the One You’re With.” Green and Griffin lead the way on some lovely harmonies for Heart’s “What About Love?” and Friend rounds out the opening with U2’s “Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For,” which gives the whole ensemble a chance to harmonize beautifully. Intermission finds us, yet again, with a series of spot-on songs to suit the mood of Austen’s story, with Counting Crows’ “Accidentally in Love,” Rihanna’s “SOS” nicely done by Lorraine and James, and (a special personal favorite) a full-throated version of Annie Lennox’s “Walking on Broken Glass,” by Griffin, Barnes, and the whole ensemble. I mention these tunes as a reminder that it always pays to show up early, and to grab your intermission drinks as quickly as possible so you can enjoy the way the cast sets the mood.

The Summer Repertory is off to a great start with this production of Sense and Sensibility, and for our next dose of the Bard we’ll have a treat come June with the addition of The Winter’s Tale. With these two plays, we’re reminded that the course of true love never doth run smooth at Blackfriar’s Playhouse — but of course, if it did, what would be the point of watching? Let’s dig in and enjoy the ASC’s new shows!

Running Time: Two hours and 5 minutes, including one intermission.

Sense and Sensibility plays through August 2, 2025, in repertory with The Winter’s Tale (June 5 to August 2), presented by American Shakespeare Center at the Blackfriars Playhouse, 10 South Market Street, Staunton, VA. For tickets (starting at $39), call the box office at (540) 851-3400 or purchase them online. ASC also offers a Local Rush deal of 50% off tickets on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Learn more here.

Cast and artistic team credits for Sense and Sensibility are online here (scroll down).

The summer program is online here.

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
Adapted by Emma Whipday with Brian McMahon
Directed by Jemma Alix Levy

SEE ALSO:
A memorably brilliant ‘The Winter’s Tale’ at American Shakespeare Center (review by Andrew Walker White, June 20, 2025)

The post American Shakespeare Center’s ‘Sense and Sensibility,’ up close and relatable appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

 Ah, Spring. That glorious time of year when you watch nature wake up, one flower at a time. Snowdrops here, crocuses there, then the dandelions, the magnolias, the cherry and plum tree blossoms.

I mean that’s all well and good, but what about we toss in a pratfall? A good dose of slapstick, or even a fully weaponized lollipop into the mix?

Now, we’re talking.

The American Shakespeare Center rounds out its Spring 2025 repertory with the premiere of its third production, The Comedy of Errors. ASC veteran Chris Johnston takes the helm as director and has created one of the zaniest, wackiest takes on the Bard’s beloved comedy you’ll ever see. After an understandably gradual lead-in (the exposition takes a little time), you’d best fasten your seat belts for the rest.

The play is set in Ancient Ephesus (the show cribs heavily from the Roman playwright Plautus), and we see the chaos that erupts when two pairs of identical twins, separated at birth, suddenly encounter each other on the same streets, in the same town, and with the same cast of supporting characters — a spurned wife, a goldsmith looking for his pay, etc. — chasing after them, one after the other.

It doesn’t help matters that one set of twins, both named Antipholus, are masters, while the other set, both named Dromio, are servants. So you’ve got two masters, two servants, constantly combining and recombining in a series of misadventures that end — well, it’s a comedy, so it ends well, but there’s a helluva lot of glorious schtick to be had before we come in for a happy end.

For fans of the ASC repertory, perhaps the biggest delight is you get to see actors stretching their talents over three contrasting shows, each one utterly unique. Rasell Holt, the earnest Friedrich Baer in Little Women and Edgar (aka Poor Tom) in King Lear, gives full rein to his talents for physical comedy as the clueless Antipholus of Syracuse, the freshly-arrived traveler who is instantly mistaken for his already-married, identical Ephesian twin. Constantly harassed by people who know him but whom he’s never seen before in his life, he relies on his Dromio — or whoever looks like him — to get him out of trouble.

Meanwhile, Joe Mucciolo complements his turn as the charming Laurie in Little Women and the evil bastard Edmund in Lear by playing the worldly-wise, man-about-town Antipholus of Ephesus. When we first meet him, he’s clearly intending to dine at his mistress’ house, drawn by the distinct aromas from her kitchen (pasta puttanesca, perhaps?). Mucciolo is utterly shameless when it comes to scene-stealing, and the predicaments he finds himself in are many — some of which he had coming to him, but that’s another story.

Summer England, memorable as Jo in Little Women and the witty fool in Lear, embraces her inner clown as Dromio of Syracuse, trying to do whatever his master tells him to do, and failing to understand why the master’s orders are all over the place. One of the great running jokes here is her Dromio’s taste for lollipops — although I would advise the tender-hearted to look the other way as she wields it, because her sweet tooth has a bite to it, and the Lollipop Guild would most certainly not approve. (And yes, lollipops are harmed in this production; you have been duly advised.)

On occasion, you’ll have the chance to catch some up-and-coming stars of the stage who come on as understudies. Taking the place of Raven Lorraine, on the night I was there, Becca Westbrook proved exuberantly audacious as Dromio of Ephesus, the servant of the philandering Antipholus twin, who like the boss is married (as Dromio of Syracuse discovers by accident, much to his shock). The penchant for slapstick is strong in her, and she’ll keep you in stitches, when she’s not dodging the wrath of both Antipholi (I swear that’s a word).

In terms of real show-stoppers, I’m of two minds here, with two actors submitted for your consideration: Charlene Hong White, whose role as Beth in Little Women gave a hint of her comedic side (while her Cordelia in Lear kept her comedic talents well hid), puts paid to the old dictum “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” As the Ephesian Antipholus’ wife, Adriana, it’s clear she’d skewer you in broad daylight with nothing but her tongue — and you’d have it coming, too. And when it comes to eccentric locals, Angela Iannone’s turns as Angelo the goldsmith and Dr. Pinch the exorcist are case studies in swivel-tongued chaos. Iannone’s gift for twisted dialects (the actor with a thousand voices, she) and for delivery of the most improbably pronounced English words are on full display, a masterclass in comedy if there ever was one.

The cast regales us with a few good tunes as well, with Blake Henri (who plays our Duke of Ephesus, but also a Courtesan in full-feathered regalia) giving Jamestown Revival’s “Fur Coat Blues” a workout, and Rasell giving us a fine hip-hop interlude, as part of a mashup of “It Takes Two” and “Made for Me,” complete with a shoutout to Bill Withers’ “Two of Us.” The Georgia Satellites’ classic “Keep Your Hands to Yourself” will have you singing along too; but not to be outdone, Christopher Seiler (our long-suffering dad Egeus here) premieres his own song, “The Girl’s Alright,” which has the same infectious chorus riff, very well done indeed.

As Mother Nature comes into her own, so does the American Shakespeare Center. The current repertory is full of surprises, star turns, and with “The Comedy of Errors” a comedy that will leave you begging for mercy, the laughs come so hard and so fast. Time to head for the hills and see something truly dazzling!

Running Time: Two hours and 5 minutes, including one intermission.

The Comedy of Errors plays through April 20, 2025, in repertory with Little Women (through April 19) and King Lear (through April 19), presented by American Shakespeare Center at the Blackfriars Playhouse, 10 South Market Street, Staunton, VA. For tickets (starting at $36), call the box office at (540) 851-3400 or purchase them online. ASC also offers a Local Rush deal of 50% off tickets on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Learn more here.

Cast and artistic team credits for The Comedy of Errors are online here (scroll down).

Age requirement: 7 and up.

The Comedy of Errors by William Shakespeare
Directed by Chris Johnston

SEE ALSO:
‘Little Women’ at American Shakespeare Center is a heartfelt story for us all (review by Andrew Walker White, February 14, 2025)
A ‘King Lear’ both upbeat and dark at American Shakespeare Center (review by Andrew Walker White, February 24, 2025)

The post Laughs come hard and fast in ‘Comedy of Errors’ at American Shakespeare Center appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

It is one thing to go to the theater and have a good time, with solid acting, great songs, and have the satisfaction that comes from a good night out.

But to find yourself in the presence of a master of the craft, whose grasp of Shakespeare’s language is profound, whose very presence onstage is magisterial, is the rarest of gifts. This, dear friends, is what you will find onstage within the friendly confines of the Blackfriars Playhouse in Staunton, Virginia.

King Lear is very much a tragedy for our times: the tale of a monarch who chooses flattery over true loyalty, with truly horrific results. Tough times call for a tough Lear, and we have one here: Angela Iannone has shown herself, time and again, to be an artist whose understanding of the Bard has a visceral truth to it, and often heart-breakingly so. Solid as Gibraltar, as a King Lear for the ages, she owns the stage, and the house itself is her noble realm.

This, simply put, is how it’s done.

This, simply put, is what must be seen.

Iannone has found a remarkable balance between Lear’s egotism and insouciance; her Lear isn’t some doddering old fool in early dementia (why on earth some prominent actors make that choice with their Lear plumb evades me) but a narcissist whose conversion isn’t so much toward madness as it is toward clarity, a deeper understanding of life’s fragility.

What’s truly refreshing, in the opening scene, is the way Iannone allows the audience to have a good laugh at Lear’s expense. Given the pathetic competition between Goneril and Regan in the sappy “Who Loves Daddy Mostest?” contest, we all know what’s about to transpire, and Lear of course is the last to know. We can laugh, knowing full well what Lear does not. But as the action proceeds, and the betrayals start to mount, we are also witness to some of the most harrowing denunciations ever uttered on any stage. When Lear condemns Goneril to sterility, the force of Iannone’s delivery makes you seriously fear for that young woman’s health.

The rage and fury Lear displays, as both Goneril and Regan proceed to strip Lear of everything, is pre-ordained and well done. What takes skill, however, is to move from rage to realization, and it is here that the genius begins to show itself. For later, in the aftermath of Lear’s complete dispossession, we find Iannone discoursing discreetly with a fly on the subject of sex — silly, but ever so poignant.

This Lear gets it; too late, but this Lear gets it.

What also makes the American Shakespeare Center’s current production of King Lear well worth the visit is the way that director Paul Mason Barnes has exploited the play’s constant switching between tragedy and farce. Shakespeare wasn’t into one long schlep to the grave; he knew we could take only so much of that doom and gloom, so he made a point of inserting a comic routine or three to ease the burden of what we know is yet to come.

Complementing Iannone’s remarkable gifts, we have Blake Henri as Kent, the ally who goes undercover to look after Lear’s safety. His conversion from sober policy wonk to merry prankster is smoothly done, and once his English yeoman avatar is fully constructed (as it were), we can follow his antics with great delight.

Another undercover agent, so to speak, is Edgar, played here with a towering passion by Rasell Holt. Falsely accused by his half-brother Edmund of plotting against his father, the Earl of Gloucester, Edgar is forced to become “Poor Tom,” and the scene of Edgar’s disguising has overtones that should be seen to be fully appreciated.

Gloucester himself, as played by Christopher Seiler, is — like Lear — hardly an innocent bystander; you wince as he openly introduces Edmund as his bastard son, whose mother gave him a good ride but little more. As for Edgar’s scheming bastard brother Edmund, Joe Mucciolo is every inch the slimy villain, deadly attractive to the wrong kind of ladies — and Regan and Goneril clearly both have eyes for him, to their last breath.

The script for this production dispenses with the husbands, which is something of a double-edged sword. On the one hand, we get to see Lear’s evil daughters as they saw themselves — not as mere pawns in the old man’s dynastic politics but as political actors in their own right. On the other hand, this also removes the one speech that Lear’s third daughter, Cordelia, had, which would have shown her backbone and her pragmatism. As a result, the quietly charismatic Charlene Hong White has less to do here than I would have liked.

But back to the evil ones: Leah Gabriel (Goneril) and Raven Lorraine (Regan) do a fine dance at the beginning, and their flattering public speeches for Lear were obviously well rehearsed. Hardly surprising, either, that they proceed to take turns seeing who can most humiliate the old man. Both, moreover, have eyes for Edmund as their boy-toy; and when it appears that Edmund’s father might be plotting against them, Regan takes the prize for villainy when she gouges Gloucester’s eyes out in revenge. (I’ll take my toast with butter, thanks very much.)

Rounding out the cast is Summer England, as Lear’s Fool, the sharp-witted, punny, allusive, evasive wordsmith who knows exactly what is happening even when Lear can’t buy a clue. As an all-permitted fool, she gets to critique Lear’s every thought, and top it. Here, the Fool is Lear’s anchor, and Summer does the fine dance of honesty, delivered just obliquely enough that it isn’t seen as open criticism. A fine dance that, perhaps, a few of us might want to make a study of for the near future.

The festivities are livened, as always, by a few hit songs; Summer England kicks things off with Rosemary Clooney’s rousing classic “This Ole House,” while Blake Henri and Charlene Hong White chime in with Tears for Fears’ moving ballad “Mad House,” followed later by The Head and The Heart’s “Rivers and Roads,” a somber reflection on emptiness and departures. Christopher Seiler does a fine job with the old Beatles’ favorite “Fool on the Hill” (I mean, what else is more fitting?), the songs here striking the same balance as the play, between upbeat and dark.

This production of King Lear, great acting aside, has lessons for us all as we muddle through very confusing, troubled times of our own, when professions of loyalty often hide the deepest deceits and quiet loyalty, unexpressed, is left unattended. May we survive these times long enough to watch this show as a mere historical curiosity, and not the warning it now has become.

Running Time: Two hours and 30 minutes, including one intermission.

King Lear plays through April 19, 2025, in repertory with Little Women (through April 19) and The Comedy of Errors (March 20 to April 20), presented by American Shakespeare Center at the Blackfriars Playhouse, 10 South Market Street, Staunton, VA. For tickets (starting at $36), call the box office at (540) 851-3400 or purchase them online. ASC also offers a Local Rush deal of 50% off tickets on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Learn more here.

Cast and artistic team credits for King Lear are online here (scroll down).

Age requirement: 7 and up.

King Lear by William Shakespeare
Directed by Paul Mason Barnes

SEE ALSO:
‘Little Women’ at American Shakespeare Center is a heartfelt story for us all (review by Andrew Walker White, February 14, 2025)

The post A ‘King Lear’ both upbeat and dark at American Shakespeare Center appeared first on DC Theater Arts.

There are few shows that can introduce our children to the magic of live theater like Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women. Few shows, moreover, that can open up our vision of the great American family, of belonging, in days when that belonging appears to be in question. Constance Swain, who has raised the rafters of Blackfriars Playhouse with her past performances, has taken the director’s reins this time and made Alcott’s classic a story for all of us.

Led by Summer England’s charismatic turn as Jo March, the precocious author-to-be, Swain’s cast brings the March sisters to vivid life — multi-hued and devoted to each other through thick and thin, in sickness and in health, in loss and triumph. Whatever differences we may think we have as we enter the theater, we leave with our hearts that much bigger and more open.

As adapted by Erin Riley, the traditional narrative is thrown open and turned into an intensely personal journey. Jo March addresses us directly and introduces us to her loving family, and we follow the sisters’ fortunes and Jo’s slow maturation as a writer through her eyes.

If you’ve grown up in a multi-sibling family, much of what transpires will seem remarkably familiar. Each of the actresses here creates an instantly recognizable family member, with traits to match. Raven Lorraine, as Meg, anchors the March girls as the eldest, taking charge of the spartan decorations for the fatherless, penniless family Christmas that opens the story. (Elder siblings, male and female alike, can relate to Meg’s need to project propriety and responsibility even as her sisters fly off hither and yon.)

Charlene Hong White’s turn as Beth, the introverted musician, has a quiet power to it, as we see her gifts recognized and rewarded. And Larisa West, who performed as the understudy for Amy March when I was there, throws herself into the role of the youngest sister — whose passions, aspirations, and sense of style seem to outstrip the household’s means at every turn.

The grown-ups, a necessity, I suppose, generally acquit themselves as grown-ups ought to; Angela Iannone gives us the mother of the brood, Marmee, as principled and empathetic as we wish all mothers to be. But just in case we get too starry-eyed about Marmee’s virtues, Iannone also has wicked fun as the infernally cranky Aunt March (Mr. March’s aunt) constantly finding fault with Jo and driving the other March sisters to distraction. Meanwhile, Christopher Seiler does double duty as the long-absent father, Mr. March, when not showing his softer side as the lonely but engaging Mr. Laurence.

The story isn’t all fun and games, of course; tragedy strikes the March family, and here is where Swain inserts a beautiful remembrance of a beloved sister; one of Jo’s biggest struggles is to find her own authentic voice as a writer, and the scene where she begins to find it is one that will remain with you long after curtain.

This being Alcott, and this being a story that of course must have a love interest or three, our eyes must also turn to the young men who grace the March household with their presence. Joe Mucciolo returns to the Blackfriars stage as the cloistered, easily-smitten “Laurie” Laurence, whose friendship with Jo has its share of ups and downs. He and Summer have some hilarious moments, and of course their relationship is nothing if not full of surprises. As Laurie’s tutor, Mr. John Brooke, Blake Henri does a fine job, fumbling and a bit awkward around the ladies at first, but finding his footing as big sister Meg comes into his sights. Last but not least, Rasell Holt’s turn as the learned, German-born Professor Friedrich Bhaer has its share of charming moments; his name, pronounced as you might expect, brings with it some comical stage business, which is great fun to watch.

The balcony, which comes in for some nice uses here, is hung with bunting of a special kind — the pages of Alcott’s novel. And Amy Monsalve’s costume and hair stylings are evocative of the 1860s when most of the action takes place. The musical selections, too, set the tone for these sisters’ stories, from Raven Lorraine’s rendition of Beyoncé’s “Daddy Lessons” and Summer’s pensive take on Natasha Bedingfield’s “Unwritten” to Christopher Seiler’s turn on the mandolin with Billy Joel’s “Vienna.” It always pays to get to your seat early because the musical talents of the company are full of surprises.

America has always been a rainbow, albeit sometimes fractured; and sometimes our dysfunction is all too much on display. But sitting with each other for a couple of hours, and reconnecting with family, can be such a wonderful thing, and this production of Little Women could be just the thing to unite us in these difficult times.

Running Time: Two hours and 30 minutes, including one intermission.

Little Women plays through April 19, 2025, in repertory with King Lear (through April 19) and The Comedy of Errors (March 20 to April 20), presented by American Shakespeare Center at the Blackfriars Playhouse, 10 South Market Street, Staunton, VA. For tickets (starting at $36), call the box office at (540) 851-3400 or purchase them online. ASC also offers a Local Rush deal of 50% off tickets on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Learn more here.

Cast and artistic team credits for Little Women are online here (scroll down).

Age requirement: 7 and up.

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
Adapted by Erin Riley

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Face it — with all the messiness of our news cycle, you need to get the heck outta Dodge; you need to get a breath of fresh air, check out a falling leaf or two, and generally reconnect with life outside the Beltway.

Oh, and you also need to laugh your ass off. Long and hard.

If you’re looking for some good, long, roll-on-the-floor stuff, have we got a show for you! Staunton, Virginia’s American Shakespeare Center has just what the doctor ordered, with their final repertory offering of Dracula: A Comedy of Terrors by Gordon Greenberg and Steve Rosen. Under director Matt Radford Davies’ eagle eye, a tightly-knit cast of ASC regulars gives you a masterclass in comedy that is guaranteed to give you nonstop yuks (some cheap, but some pretty classy, I must say).

Greenberg and Rosen have made a name for themselves taking classics and skewering them mercilessly, perverting them into hilarious, chaotic messes. By design, their scripts feature a cast of only five actors, who must then play what must be triple the number of characters in the course of the evening. This makes for some deft hat-and-wig switching, with voices to match; half the fun is simply keeping track of who is playing whom, and when, while watching to see how they’ll manage having to play them all.

The only actor lacking this split-personality syndrome is ASC favorite Aidan O’Reilly, who owns the Blackfriars house in the role of our favorite bloodsucker. Decked out in dashing opera cape, black leather trousers, and smoking jacket, O’Reilly’s Dracula is clearly dressed to kill — but of course this being Greenberg and Rosen’s scenario, things don’t go off according to plan. O’Reilly’s gift for deadpan humor is on full display here, as he reveals himself to be the most determined and yet most clueless villain you’d ever meet on the moors.

Smitten with the adventurous Lucy (Sara Linares, in riveting form) once he arrives in England, our thirsty Count is forced to settle for Lucy’s wallflower sister, Mina, when he gets a bit peckish. In which role we get to enjoy yet another star turn from Angela Iannone. She of the Thousand Voices. Iannone has you in stitches as the insufferably annoying Mina, but only when she’s not doubling as Dr. Van Helsing, the bespectacled, tweed-clad German doctor whose accent is so thick it would take a cleaver to cut through it.

Leah Gabriel, meanwhile, gets to play the urbane, pipe-smoking Dr. Westfeldt, Mina and Lucy’s father, whose management of an insane asylum in his own home allows for the cast to take turns playing some rather eccentric servants: Gabriel combines Westfeldt with our favorite insect hunter Renfield (fly swatter in hand, natch), and we get to watch how both characters somehow manage to appear on stage simultaneously. Gabriel isn’t the only one to pull this off with aplomb.

Of all the romances that blossom on the stage, perhaps the oddest one develops between Dracula and Jonathan Harker, Lucy’s fiancée, played with amusing reticence by K. P. Powell. Harker/Powell’s refusal to stand up for himself, let alone for his intended, makes for some delicious irony, as Lucy proves to be the one “wearing the pants” between the two of them. Greenberg and Rosen use Harker’s character, among others, as an opportunity to demolish our usual gendered expectations and gender habits, which are skewered systematically throughout the evening.

This being a more contemporary take on the Count, we also see a vampire who is quite liberal in his tastes, willing to take on Jonathan in addition to any female he can waltz into his clutches. Harker’s resulting transformation, after a fateful private encounter with Dracula, is every bodice-ripper’s dream, and his hilarious, outrageous “coming out” will leave you begging for mercy (bad news: he has none).

Presiding over the festivities from her perch in the Blackfriars balcony is Summer England, ASC’s musical director, who as the show’s Foley artist provides us with sound effects galore; creepy screeching sounds abound, of course, and I guarantee you’ll never look at that folding fan of yours the same way.

Dracula: A Comedy of Terrors offers a solid 100 minutes of nonstop, madcap insanity, featuring another ripping tale of our favorite Vlad — not the Russian one, the Transylvanian one. Vlad the Impaler. Dracula to you — Count Dracula.

Running Time: One hour and 40+ minutes, with no intermission.

Dracula: A Comedy of Terrors plays through November 24, 2024 (in repertory with The Merry Wives of Windsor through November 23 and Macbeth through November 23), presented by American Shakespeare Center at the Blackfriars Playhouse, 10 South Market Street, Staunton, VA. For tickets (starting at $33), call the box office at (540) 851-3400, or purchase them online. ASC also offers a Local Rush deal of 50% off tickets on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Learn more here.

Cast and artistic team credits for Dracula: A Comedy of Terrors are online here (scroll down).

SEE ALSO:
A ‘Macbeth’ for our moment at American Shakespeare Center (review by Andrew Walker White, July 23, 2024)
A madcap ‘Merry Wives of Windsor’ at American Shakespeare Center (review by Andrew Walker White, September 25, 2024)

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So maybe this fall, you’re planning on that weekend trip to the Blue Ridge, to enjoy the foliage and all its wonders.

Yeah, some folks just love watching trees dumping tons of desiccated, dead leaves all over the place.

Big whoop.

If you want to see something truly spectacular, might I suggest you include a stop in Staunton, Virginia, where, after a tedious day of leaf counting (really?) you can step into the Blackfriars Playhouse and laugh your tail off with a repertory acting company at the height of its comedic powers.

The American Shakespeare Center’s current production of Shakespeare’s The Merry Wives of Windsor is one of those amazing, madcap, one-laugh-per-nanosecond productions that are only possible with a professional company that is so relaxed and spontaneous in their work that the hard work of stage comedy can seem as natural as breathing.

Or, in the case of Sir John Falstaff, as easy as inhaling a pint of the good stuff.

Director Dawn Monique Williams has brought some of the best work out of this company — and that’s saying a lot, considering their already superb turns in Macbeth and The Importance of Being Earnest, both of which are already locked into the fall repertory. She has created a freewheeling environment onstage that leaves the actors constantly trying to top each other in mayhem. Period costumes (tastefully designed by Nia Safarr Banks) are mashed together with a series of anachronistic props, the presence of which only adds to the fun. The results are almost indescribably hilarious (well, almost, because I still have some column inches to cover here, so I’d better get busy).

Merry Wives is a classic example of Shakespeare, in true Hollywood style, shamelessly making that extra buck with a quickie sequel, featuring one of his most perfectly ridiculous characters. In this case, we follow the misfortunes of Sir John as he tries repeatedly to con some money (and maybe a little nookie) out of a couple well-to-do women in the London suburbs.

That his attempts at courtship are as ill-conceived as they are poorly executed doesn’t faze him in the least; and Kenn Hopkins Jr. as Falstaff is the perfect straight man for all the pranks that the women of Windsor are about to play on him. He is as deadly earnest as a drunk man can be, especially when the money for his bar tab is at stake. In terms of mental acuity, however, he is no match for objects of his intentions, Mistress Page (Leah Gabriel) and Mistress Ford (Sara Linares), who realize pretty quickly that they have both received the exact same “love” letter from him (performed as a kind of klutzy serenade by Hopkins and companions). Humiliation is piled upon humiliation, and by the end of the evening even their husbands are in on the joke, and a climactic rumble in a nearby park features nearly the entire town of Windsor conspiring against Falstaff — all in good fun, of course.

Given that marital fidelity is one of the main themes here, the preshow gets off to a fine start with Aidan O’Reilly and K. P. Powell giving a good, soulful rendering of Ben E. King’s “Stand by Me.” That they play the husbands of the two wives Falstaff is trying to woo only adds to the fervor. On the flip side, Hopkins takes a turn with Rik Rok and Shaggy’s reggae comic crossover hit “It Wasn’t Me,” on the subject of — what else? — flagrant infidelity. And the company rounds out the intermission music with a rousing chorus of Cindi Lauper’s “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,” which sums up the whole point of the show, when you come to think of it.

In the never-underestimate-the-bit-parts department, Britt Michael Gordon has entirely too much fun alternating among the roles of three suitors, all of whom vie for the hand of Anne Page (played with relish by Summer England). The climax of Gordon’s performance comes when, after a series of exits and entrances covering the switching of roles, he attempts to perform all three nearly simultaneously — must be seen to be believed, he pulls it off to great effect. Meanwhile, Angela Iannone, one of the treasures of the season, keeps you in stitches with her turns as the baritone Justice Shallow and the squeaky-mousie Mistress Quickly, who is as wickedly clever as she seems, well, otherwise.

So, what’s your excuse? Face it, dead leaves are gonna be everywhere you look; but this production is only around for the next couple of months and you’d be fools to pass it up.

Running Time: Two hours and 30 minutes, including one intermission.

The Merry Wives of Windsor plays through November 23, 2024, (in repertory with The Importance of Being Ernest through October 20, 2024, Macbeth through November 23, and Dracula: A Comedy of Terrors from October 17 to November 24) presented by American Shakespeare Center at the Blackfriars Playhouse, 10 South Market Street, Staunton, VA. For tickets ($28+), call the box office at (540) 851-3400, or purchase them online. ASC also offers a Local Rush deal of 50% off tickets on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Learn more here.

Cast and artistic team credits for The Merry Wives of Windsor are online here (scroll down).

COVID Safety: ASC no longer requires proof of vaccination or universal asking.  ASC is monitoring local, state, and federal guidelines and will update this policy as necessary.

SEE ALSO:
A ‘Macbeth’ for our moment at American Shakespeare Center (review by Andrew Walker White, July 23, 2024)
Wickedly funny ‘Importance of Being Earnest’ at American Shakespeare Center (review by Andrew Walker White, August 1, 2024)

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Having already advised you, dear reader, of “something wicked” currently playing at Staunton, Virginia’s Blackfriars Playhouse, I can further recommend something wickedly funny to round out your visit with American Shakespeare Center’s current acting company.

Macbeth may be a great study of the evil that lurks in our hearts, but Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest is a truly delectable study of our pomposity and cluelessness. Chock full of immortal aphorisms and gags to keep you in stitches, José Zayas’ production of this Wilde classic fits the unique ambiance of the Blackfriars perfectly — where the lights stay on and the actors constantly throw their best one-liners right into your lap.

The setting is an appropriate mixture of reality and pretense. At the opening we have a nice, red Persian carpet, complemented by an equally cozy chaise lounge in red paisley, both of which are offset by a clearly fake fireplace painted on canvas upstage. It’s a hint of the ways in which façades and fakery define Wilde’s world and his characters, reality notwithstanding.

As becomes clear early on, both of the young bachelors here — Algernon and Jack — thrive on dual identities, adopting one persona in the city and another in the country. The discussion of “Bunburyism” certainly had a more secret meaning for Wilde (who himself lived a double life), but in this instance, it is all about the joys of subterfuge and fakery, and using the country and city personae to personal advantage. Especially when one considers one’s romantic objectives.

Our bachelors here are a great match: as Algernon Montcrieff, Britt Michael Gordon’s insouciance and nonstop jokes at the expense of society (and himself) find their foil in K. P. Powell’s Jack Worthing — with Powell playing straight man to Gordon’s madcap wit. Scarcely capable of keeping up with Algernon and his schemes, Jack finds his best-laid plans nearly blown apart as the evening progresses.

It doesn’t help that the two ladies who are the objects of their affections — Summer England’s Gwendolen Fairfax and Sara Linares’ Cecily Cardew — have their hearts set on marrying men with just the right name — Ernest, naturally, must be the man of their dreams. That they might be better off looking into their beaux’s personalities and lifestyles never occurs to them, of course. And the minute it looks like both Gwendolen and Cecily might be vying for the same gentleman, the gloves come off. Which leads, dear reader, to one of the most hilarious, passive-aggressive High Teas From Hell imaginable, with the bumbling servant (Aidan O’Reilly, a proper klutz if there ever was one) desperately trying to avoid getting hit by bits of flying cakes and sugar lumps.

Presiding over these nutty festivities, in the highest of high dudgeon, is Lady Bracknell, whose daughter Gwendolen is one of the, erm, objectives here. Angela Iannone, who has more than proven her excellence in tragedy, turns in a sidesplitting take on the matriarch whose every utterance is a study in Victorian nuttiness. Her magisterial presence, complete with Kristina Sneshkoff’s costumes (and brilliantly festooned hats!), is matched by her warbling, elite vocal qualities. (Think of her as Algernon in corseted drag, and you get some idea.)

Nothing bodes better for a night of comedy than a swinging pre-show: musical prodigy Britt Michael Gordon (who, when not sporting a guitar, is the wittiest Algernon on the planet) leads the cast in a brilliantly syncopated acoustic version of Michael Jackson’s classic “The Way You Make Me Feel,” followed by Sara Linares’ wonderful take on Julieta Venegas’ “Me Voy.” Truth be known, the musical programming has had some weak spots here and there over the last few years; but for this repertory, Musical Director Summer England (who, when wearing other hats, plays the ridiculously self-composed Gwendolen Fairfax to a T) has assembled an ensemble that can belt it out, keep up with the changes, and have us grinning from ear to ear before a word of Wilde’s is even uttered.

But wait, there’s more — we are treated to two intermissions here, which gives Iannone (in one of them) an opportunity to drop her magisterial Lady Bracknell for an earthy Cockney wench, leading the audience in an old music hall classic, Charles Collins’ “My Old Man Said Follow the Van.” And the second intermission finds the ensemble rendering Ed Sheeran’s “I Don’t Care” as a nice segue into the final act.

There is so much to recommend to one’s sensibilities here — for humor, for music, for fine costuming — that I’m afraid I might run on too long with this review. Rest assured, you’ll be dazzled and smiling the whole night through for this production of The Importance of Being Earnest.

Running Time: Two hours and 30 minutes, including two intermissions.

The Importance of Being Ernest plays through October 20, 2024, (in repertory with  Macbeth through November 23, The Merry Wives of Windsor from September 12 to November 23, and Dracula: A Comedy of Terrors from October 17 to November 24) presented by American Shakespeare Center at the Blackfriars Playhouse, 10 South Market Street, Staunton, VA. For tickets ($28–$73), call the box office at (540) 851-3400, or purchase them online.

Cast and artistic team credits for The Importance of Being Ernest are online here (scroll down).

SEE ALSO:
A ‘Macbeth’ for our moment at American Shakespeare Center (review by Andrew Walker White, July 23, 2024)

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