Ben Dobler

What a ‘Ride’!

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By John Lyle Belden

For those in search of the next “Rocky Horror” phenomenon, or who feel that the stakes in “Spelling Bee” weren’t high enough, we invite you to “Ride the Cyclone”!

First developed in Canada in 2008 by Jacob Richmond and Brooke Maxwell, then appearing Off-Broadway the next year, “Ride the Cyclone: The Musical” has more recently taken on cult status with a large Tik-Tok community of fan art, theories, and costumes. The Phoenix Theatre now gives this experience a whirl, directed by K.T. Peterson.

In a storage building for a traveling carnival, a ghostly lament is heard, and the Amazing Karnak (Ben Asaykwee) awakens. Not a boast, he says, just the name on the side of his box. Unknown carny magic allows him to read the future, but only of one’s time and manner of death. This being too much of a downer, he’s been adjusted to be more cryptic. As he knows his own demise is imminent, he uses his remaining power to find those he couldn’t properly warn. Six teens, members of a school choir from Uranium City in far north Saskatchewan, died when The Cyclone roller coaster went off its rails. Their spirits are summoned to give one of them the opportunity to resume the life they had lost.

Enter overachiever Ocean (Mia Stewart); sassy only-gay-in-town Noel (Parker Taylor); surly adoptee from Ukraine, Mischa (Seth Jacobsen); comics-obsessed dreamer Ricky (Noah Lee), who had been struck mute from an earlier trauma; and plain and shy Constance (Marachey Fowler), most notable for being Ocean’s best friend and whose catchphrase is a very Canadian “So-rry!”

They are soon joined by Jane Doe (Olivia Broadwater), who had not been identified after the accident as no one could find her head. She replaces it with one from a doll. Having no identity of her own, she looks, acts, and speaks like an animated toy.

They each sing their case for going back through the light (like “Cats,” but more relatable) in a show that is at turns funny, moving, and surreal.

Asaykwee brings a bit of magic to all his roles. Here he gives wide expression to his wooden face, taking charge of the entire stage though he never leaves his box. He also shares this space with some of the best young talent we have seen around Indy.

Taylor once again makes us love a quirky character, even if his life’s dream is to die elsewhere. His Noel is comfortable in his queerness, while frustrated at missing the opportunity to be where he better fits in.

In fact, they all wanted to escape life in their dying former mining town (in our present day, home to under 100 residents). Perhaps it is more frustrating for Ocean, who Stewart plays as a controlling Alpha whose youth shows in her lack of tact. Or for Constance, who feared becoming resigned to living her whole life in Uranium (which, sadly, happened). Fowler takes on her pain of being overlooked and taken advantage of, converting it to inner strength.  

Ricky surprises them all, having regained his voice, and he has a lot to say. Ironically upbeat, Lee shares his sad origin and the cool sci-fi fantasy synthesized from his unconventional upbringing, complete with sexy catgirls.

Mischa is a little older than the others but was mostly denied a regular childhood. Jacobson handles his angst well. Feeling culturally mixed-up, he channels his feelings into hip-hop rhymes, and longs for the girl who liked him on YouTube.

Broadwater shows immense talent in working within the limits of her character in both movement and personality, taking her from creepy to heartbreaking with apparent ease.

Note the production is for teens and up, complete with a few F-bombs and a giant rat (Kristin Wentz). Appropriately cluttered yet versatile stage design is by David B. Vogel, complimented by lighting design by Michael Moffatt and sound and video projections by Ben Dobler.

Like the best carnival rides, The Cyclone is fun, wild, exhilarating, and affecting – and makes me want to get in line for another ticket.

Get yours at the Phoenix Theatre Cultural Centre, where “Ride the Cyclone: The Musical” runs through Aug. 2 at 705 N. Illinois St., downtown Indianapolis. See phoenixtheatre.org.

Fonseca: Diner serves up potential for redemption

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By John Lyle Belden

Regarding the comic drama “Clyde’s” by Lynn Nottage, presented by Fonseca Theatre, a famous 19th-century French quote used by the original Japanese “Iron Chef” series comes to mind: “Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are.”

Or, as the serene chef of this roadside diner puts it, “What’s your favorite sandwich?”

Clyde (Chandra Lynch) is proprietor of the restaurant, of which we only see the kitchen. An ex-offender who doesn’t mind being offensive, she hires felon parolees who find themselves with nowhere else to go. Her demeanor is cruel, even abusive, with a belief that those convicted are forever unredeemable losers that would put Javert of “Les Misérables” to shame.

The zen-like sandwich master Montrellous (Jamaal McCray) raises the crafting of ingredients between slices of bread to art bordering on philosophy. While exacting in his process, he takes pleasure in the simple fact that truckers come from miles around just to have one of his delicious creations. His co-workers come to embrace his approach, desiring to make their own perfect sandwich that “tastes like the truth.”

Clyde, of course, scoffs at this but doesn’t mind the business their unique menu brings in.

Also working the kitchen are Rafael (Ian Cruz) with a robbery conviction and a 12-Step sobriety chip; Tish (Shandrea Funnye) who was busted for drugs while caring for a daughter with medical issues; and Jason (Dave Pelsue) who has a temper, an assault conviction, and Aryan tattoos (which, him being the only White person present, doesn’t go over well with the others).

Director Josiah Ray McCruiston infuses this production with his devotion to good storytelling. We see in every character the distinct fears of the formerly incarcerated, their anxiety over the mistrust and misuse by those they know in the outside world, dealing with the sense that such treatment is deserved, striving to somehow make their lives – if not better – at least worth carrying on. Trust must be rebuilt; anger must be discarded; the act of making something nourishing can be nourishing itself.  

Fortunately, while there are cutlery and dishes, the food itself is mimed. This not only aids the ephemeral nature of its making (and it’ll never look better than it does in our imagination) but also this busy kitchen would generate a lot of food waste over several performances, and the smell would just make us all in the audience hungry. Kudos to Bernie Killian for the set design of this convincingly clean and cozy diner kitchen, complete with order-up window at the back. Paully Crumpacker’s lighting and Ben Dobler’s sound are also commendable.

As I’ve indicated, this is about so much more than making a great sandwich, but it also gets you thinking: What’s your favorite?

Bon Appetit. Performances are Fridays at 7 p.m., Saturdays at 4 p.m., and Sundays at 2 p.m., through May 17, at 2508 W. Washington St., Indianapolis. Get info and tickets at fonsecatheatre.org.

Fonseca touching on sensitive topics

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By John Lyle Belden

“Can I Touch it?” by Francisca Da Silveira is about Black women’s hair. It is about Black women. It is about a Black neighborhood facing change, and a Black family in the middle of it.

This comedy addresses, according to director Dena Toler, the many ways people of color are “touched,” personally and collectively. Counter to the old saying, “It’s a Black thing, you wouldn’t understand,” this is a theatrical opportunity to get past clumsy questions and listen to the answers we need to absorb.

A helpful bit of context: According to Boston.gov, the central neighborhood of Roxbury is “the heart of Black culture” in the city. However, the headline of the web page says, “We’re bringing this historic neighborhood into the 21st century.” – Who is “We”? – Keep this in mind when you see this show at Fonseca Theatre Company.  

Shay (Lanetta Chandler) is having trouble getting a loan to help sustain her wig and beauty supply shop on Dudley Square in Roxbury. She runs it with her sole employee, and cousin, Meeka (D’yshe Mansfield), who also has braiding skills. Shay’s daughter Ruth (Ronni Watts) is finishing high school and doesn’t want to settle for the local college, Northeastern University.

The issues with the loan seem to coincide with Patron Bank also having designs on Dudley Square for development with modern multi-level, multi-use buildings. Shay and her friend since childhood, Mark (Peter Scharbrough), are among locals meeting with the bank’s representative, Beth (Mansfield), who addresses them with a saccharine smile and thinly-veiled condescension.

Watts also plays Lili, a customer at Shay’s shop who also works at Patron; Scharbrogh is also Nicky, a barber in Somerville (just outside Boston) and friend of Meeka.

This heart of Black culture has a beat which rises up between scenes as the title question and others, such as “Is it expensive?” and “Does it hurt?” are considered one at a time.

“We live in the compromise,” Shay says, and Chandler gives her a weary optimism of one who has lived in that mode her whole life. Mansfield contributes much of the comedy in her portrayals of both eager and feisty Meeka and blonde bitch Beth. Watts gives us Ruth feeling caught between concern for her mother and worry for her future. Scharbrough, as all the white men in the cast, gives Mark and Nicky distinctive positive personalities. He also has a moment as an unhelpful loan officer.

It is fitting that with those in more than one role, much of the difference is reflected in the wigs worn. Watts truly looks like two different people as the girl Ruth with natural hair and the woman Lili with a long straight weave.

Credit, then, to Jeanne Bowling for costumes and props (including the hairpieces, I presume). Bernard Killian designed the stage with components that change from Shay’s shop to other locations as needed, aided by lighting by Ben Dobler. Ayshah Matthews is assistant director and Maggie Ward is stage manager, aided by Mad Brown.

Joshua Short makes an appearance as an online video influencer.  

Serious stuff with some laugh-out-loud moments and answers to bothersome questions – perhaps raising a few more – “Can I Touch It?” runs through March 30 at 2508 W. Michigan St., Indianapolis. Get tickets and info at fonsecatheatre.org.

FTC presents genuinely haunting tale

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By John Lyle Belden

And now, a dark comedy in which characters are often plunged into darkness.

“A Skeptic and a Bruja,” the play by Rosa Fernandez presented by Fonseca Theatre Company, is also the title of a paranormal podcast by three women of color: Jess (Arëe Lyn) is the Bruja (Spanish for “witch,” that in this case references a particular spiritual practice); Sam (Cara Wilson) is the skeptic, compulsively seeking a logical explanation for anything that happens; and Remy (Yolanda Valdivia) handles all the tech, making audio and video recordings of the other two as well as setting up a/v equipment to detect and record anything weird.

They have come to investigate an old house being converted into a bed-and-breakfast by professional chef Pricilla (Chandra Lynch). Before the podcasters arrive, we already hear the thumps and see a door open itself. But, of course, all is quiet when the investigators arrive. Sam openly wonders if this will be worth their time, while Jess sees it as at worst a free stay at a quaint B&B with gourmet meals. They are fascinated by the upstairs room full of creepy dolls, though.

Soon enough, the entities in the house make themselves known, taking advantage of the fears and regrets each of the women were already afraid to confront, especially for Remy, who just recently lost her mother.

Directed by FTC Producing Director Jordan Flores Schwartz, the play effectively grows tension from laughs to chills as circumstances grow more serious. Well-executed startling effects are employed, including sounds, visuals, and falling objects, aided by the work of light and sound designer Ben Dobler.

Our foursome play these scenes with zero camp. Lynch has Pricilla already inclined to think she’s haunted by her partner who died of cancer a year earlier. Wilson expresses Sam dealing with her mask of rationality rapidly fraying. Lyn gives Jess the centered calm of a woman who has seen ghostly entities her entire life, only growing concerned when her guardian spirit makes an abrupt exit. Valdivia takes on the complexity of Remy’s being the target of the house’s unseen residents, coupled with reconciling the fraught relationship she had with her Mom.

You could look at this as a cool telling of a ghost tale somewhere between “Scooby-doo” and “The Conjuring” films, or, as an unconventional story of women finding their inner strength to deal with the regular-world grief that haunts them (and eventually, all of us). I think it’s both. Regardless, this haunted house is worth a visit.

“A Skeptic and a Brujah” plays through July 28 at 2508 W. Michigan St., Indianapolis. For info and tickets, visit fonsecatheatre.org.