‘Rabbit Hole’ a careful exploration of painful subject

By John Lyle Belden

Eclipse Productions of Bloomington* presents the Pulitzer-winning drama, “Rabbit Hole,” by David Lindsay-Abare, which is a challenge to watch – not because it’s done badly, but because it is done so well.

Real-world married couple Kate Weber and Jeremy J. Weber play Becca and Howie Corbett, in whose suburban New York home the play is set. Months earlier, their four-year-old son Danny was struck and killed by a car when the boy chased his dog into the street. Becca is still dealing not only with the pain of grief but also with the constant presence of Danny’s clothes and possessions. Howie maintains a strong front, but privately watches VCR tapes from Danny’s last months before the accident, and sees even taking clothes to Goodwill as “erasing” their son. The couple had gone to a support group for parents who lost children, but Becca found their sentiments infuriating, so Howie goes alone.

We also meet Izzy (Trick Blanchfield), Becca’s sister whose irresponsible lifestyle is changing thanks to a surprise pregnancy by her musician boyfriend. Nat (Beth Fort), mother of the two women, is also present, cocktail in hand. Her attempts at comfort and relating to loss bring up her own unresolved pain over son Arthur, Becca and Izzy’s older brother, who died of suicide.

In addition, there is Jason Willett (Sam Durnil), the teenager who was at the wheel of the vehicle that hit Danny, dealing with his own feelings of responsibility.

The five visible characters are surrounded by an orbit of others whose presence are felt, including Arthur; Izzy’s boyfriend and his now-ex (an encounter with whom Izzy relates in the first scene); the ever-barking dog; and the long-time friends with children who haven’t called since the funeral.

The star at the center, of course, is Danny. Every conversation carries the weight of his absence. As Howie watches the tape, family moments are heard and seen in a projection that bathes the set with the happy boy’s presence.

Flashes of humor help make the moments of raw emotion bearable and relatable. Each person has their well-intentioned mis-steps on their way forward through the weeks that follow.

The Webers’ natural chemistry helps inform the longing between their characters struggling with potential estrangement. Each presents a soul nearing the breaking point; she as she cries out, he as he holds everything in. Blanchfield, ever reliable in a free-spirit role, transmutes smoothly as she becomes the voice of reason. Fort stirs our sympathies with her complex character, dealing with the loss of both son and grandson as best she can. Durnil handles well a teen given a burden way beyond his maturity to shoulder. Still, Jason’s brave naïve gesture becomes an unlikely turning point.

The play is directed by Konnor Graber, whose approach draws us in with compelling performances, the projected video, and the use of songs during low-light scene transitions that reflect the mood and plot. Lighting is by Allie Mattox, sound by Joshua Lane, set design by technical director Shayna Survil, with Alec Guerra as stage manager.

This drama is worth the effort to see as it eases us through this couple’s process, engaging us with a reminder that life can and must continue, even as those who departed linger in spirit.

Performances are Friday through Sunday, Aug. 8-10 at The Constellation Playhouse, 107 W. 9th St., Bloomington. For tickets and info, see eclipseproductionscompany.com.

*(No relation to the “Eclipse” Indy young artist program.)  

War ends but struggle continues for returning soldier

By John Lyle Belden

Center Stage Community Theatre of Lebanon, Ind., boldly presents the world premiere of the drama “Tail End Charlie,” by Joey Banks, directed by Matt Spurlock. This intense look at family dysfunction, mental health, and the hidden wounds of war might be considered daring for a small-town stage – yet apropos as it goes to the heart of the heartland with its setting in a fictional Lebanon-sized town (near Chicago), centered on a young man coming home from World War II.

But first, we see the soldier’s father (Tom Smith), his grasp on reality slipping, declaring both his sons are dead – Robert (Grant Craig), an Army Airman reported shot down over Normandy on D-Day; and elder son George (Davd A. Shaul), who lives but he chooses to see as a “ghost,” hated for costly alcohol and gambling addictions. Yet it is he, the old man, who will have passed away when our story gets under way the next summer, in 1945 with the War in Europe just ended.

Robert, who survived as a prisoner of war, gets home a little early, surprising his wife Dorothy (Sabrina Duprey) as she prepares the homecoming celebration. She is grateful to see him in the flesh, especially after the ordeal of being told he had perished the year before. George arrives with a cheerful greeting, but bad news: their father’s business, Dobson Manufacturing, which Robert would inherit and George managed in his stead, is in danger of being overwhelmed by big-city competitors. Remembering how his brother used to be, Robert rails at him for apparent incompetence until he sees the books himself – and the buy-out bids that would land them on their financial feet, as well as give a severance to the employees facing unemployment regardless.

As Robert mulls the difficult choices regarding his legacy, keeping at bay growing suspicions and unsettled memories, a slick character straight from a gangster flick (Matt McKee) walks in. The man says he’s Frank, a “friend” of George’s, who still owes him money.

Did George lie about giving up gambling? Or is Frank even real? The elder Dobson suffered from hallucinations, even calling one of them Frank, as his mental and physical health deteriorated. Is it just Robert’s overstressed mind, or is there something increasingly wrong with how his wife is behaving? Visits from Dr. Ross (Chris Taylor) offer little insight, though Robert feels confident enough while alone with him to relate haunting details from his crash and capture by the Germans.

Suspense and suspicion build to a tragic end, leaving us much to consider about the fragility of the mind, especially when forced to choose when there is no good choice. The play’s title refers to the vulnerable position of Robert’s aircraft, flying at the rear of the formation. In a way, his fortunes never get better.

Smith lends calm gravitas to the Dobson patriarch, even in a mental fog, delivering a scene that sets the play’s tone with a character whose lingering effect haunts both his sons. Shaul plays George in a way that deftly keeps us guessing – is this a redemption arc, or is he an exceptional liar? Duprey gives us a heartbreaking portrayal of “Dee,” a good-natured woman worn down by the stresses of the homefront, nearly broken with the news of the previous summer, and still struggling to do more than deal with other people’s circumstances.

Craig does well in giving us in Robert the soldier whose demeanor is not quite off the battlefield – survival reflexes now manifest in hair-trigger moods and snap reactions, compounded by the possibility of a sort of family curse, and the mental baggage he doesn’t dare unpack. Then there’s Frank, a merciless provocateur with the insight of a nagging conscience, which McKee plays with relish.

Language gets intense, though mostly PG-13; there is some impressively choreographed fighting; and we are alerted there will be a gunshot – the circumstances I’ll leave you to discover.

“Tail End Charlie” has two more weekends, July 25-27 and Aug. 1-3, at 604 Powell St. in Lebanon. Get tickets at centerstagecommunitytheatre.org.

‘Wit’ in Westfield: Facing a ‘very tough’ end

By John Lyle Belden

In ‘Wit,’ the Pulitzer-winning drama by Margaret Edson, presented by Main Street Productions in Westfield, it’s not a big spoiler to say that our central character, Vivian Bearing, Ph.D, dies at the end of aggressive stage-four ovarian cancer.

Vivian (Beverly Roche) confides as much when she enters the stage as her own narrator. Feeling the play’s run-time, she condenses the necessary flashbacks and eight months of experimental chemotherapy into having less than two hours to live. In her friendly engagement with us across the fourth wall, it feels initially like a one-woman play that happens to have several supporting actors – however, we also gain a sense of their own feelings on their endless struggle against the forces of death.

Dr. Bearing is not a medical doctor, but a renowned professor of literature, weaving her career-long study of the works of 16th century English poet John Donne (sonnets include “Death be not Proud”) into the narrative of her final days, grasping for the wit she saw in his approach to life and mortality. We see a pivotal moment of her as a college student of Donne expert E.M. Ashford (Susan Hill), engaging her attention to detail that would make Vivian notorious as a teacher herself.

“You have cancer,” Harvey Kelekian, M.D., (Mark Kamish) says frankly – which she appreciates. Being advanced stage four (there is no “stage five”), he sets up what turns out to be a brutal course of chemotherapy, telling Vivian he needs her “to be very tough.” She agrees and, somehow, will see it all through, bringing us all along.

We meet medical staff with contrasting approaches to her treatment: Dr. Kelekian’s research fellow, Dr. Jason Posner (Connor Phelan), who seems more interested in the cancerous cells than the woman they inhabit, and Nurse Susie Monahan (Becca Bartley) whose humanity and empathy become increasingly valuable as they work through the coming ordeal. 

Other roles are played smartly by Eric Bowman, Leah Hoover, MaryAnne Mathews, and Teresa Otis Skelton.

The play is directed with compassionate detail by Eric Bryant and Becky Schlomann. Bryant said he had proposed directing the play to MSP, then felt grateful when circumstances allowed him to add a co-director for a woman’s perspective. Their easy cooperation is reflected throughout the ensemble, who were encouraged in preparation to reflect on their own experiences with loved ones dying and/or working through cancer.

The background work included assistance from dramaturg Brooke Conti, Ph.D., of Cleveland, for her expertise on Donne; clinical consultant Glenn Dobbs, who aside from his involvement in local theatre is a retired OB/GYN; and intimacy director Lola LaVacious, considering the very personal and invasive nature of the disease and treatment.

“People always talk to us about the production (after a performance),” Schlomann said, but with this show, they “bring up their own stories, they find a personal connection.”

As Vivian, Roche makes that sense of kinship feel natural, as both a fascinating lecturer and an engaging guide. Her disease has cracked the professor’s cynical shell, allowing us to see the soul – with its stubborn wit – within.

Hill, whose professor has a more tempered approach to the Poet, gives us a wise mentor who bookends Vivian’s journey with a touching penultimate scene. Bartley’s Susie kindly and heroically reminds us that there is more to good medicine than doctorate-level knowledge.

Phelan’s Dr. Posner seems at times aloof, practically on the neurodivergent spectrum, but maintains his own complexity with his devotion to research and fascination with the “immortal” nature of cancer cells. Perhaps there is also a discomfort with mortality that informs his clinical distance from his very mortal patient.

This play, even with its own sense of wit among the serious goings-on, can be challenging to watch – especially if you have had any experience with the events portrayed – but it is well worth the effort to experience.

Speaking of which, it won’t be easy to reach the Westfield Basile Playhouse, 220 N. Union St., due to highway construction downtown. We found our way by driving the streets that lead to Westfield High School, then turning south on Union. Consult a maps app for alternate routes.

Performances of “Wit” are Thursday through Sunday, June 5-8. Get tickets at westfieldplayhouse.org.

Hyperion presents man’s ‘zero hour’

By John Lyle Belden

BE ADVISED: This play explores heavy topics, including suicide.

What does the dark, serious comedy “Rocket Man” by Steven Dietz, performed for one weekend by Hyperion Players in Fishers, directed by Daniel Maloy, have to do with the 1972 hit song by Elton John and Bernie Taupin?

In my mind, absolutely nothing – and everything.

The song was reportedly inspired by a sci-fi story by Ray Bradbury about a time when being an astronaut will be just a regular job. The lyrics are less about the wonder of traveling in space and more about the ennui and loneliness of the very long commute.

In this play, Donny (Bailey Hunt), in his 40s, finds himself in a crisis he can’t just brush off as “midlife.” It’s a crisis of time and space. He’s “losing” time; hours and days seem to pass without his noticing. He plans a milestone birthday party for teenage daughter Trisha (Amelia Bostick), not realizing it was a week ago.

As for space, he’s been changing his relationship to it. Having quit his long-time successful job as a land surveyor and abandoned his past ambition to be a landscape architect, Donny cleared his house of all its objects – to the shock of Trisha, surprise of good friend and neighbor Buck (Greg Fiebig), and chagrin of his ex-wife Rita (Isabel Hunt) – except for the attic, in which he has reopened the skylight and set up his E-Z Boy recliner for stargazing.

Donny’s best friend and former survey partner Louise (Lauren Taylor) comes over as well. Her chronic insomnia has somehow led her to study at a seminary. Buck confides in her on a spiritual manner: he is sure he is hearing voices around his own house, telling him to build an ark (like in the biblical Noah story).

Rita contends with the consequences of her “year of being real,” in which she always told people what she thought of them – a factor in her and Donny’s divorce. Still, it is his unsettled mind that primarily drives him.

There is also a crosswalk sign, “terrible” cookies, the moon and stars, an umbrella, things not done, things not finished, the song, “Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars,” and some recognizable signs that a person is taking a one-way voyage.

However, once we reach that other world – where things are the same, yet different – the troubled feelings aren’t necessarily better.

This inventive look at loss and what-ifs is wonderfully presented and incredibly challenging. Hunt’s performance is of a man feeling the pressure of being between worlds – age, creativity, even literal planets – who only feels relief in a desperate plan. The others play well their unusual aspects, enriching the context for the story’s Bradbury-esque strangeness.

Fiebig also designed the excellent attic setting in which nearly all the action takes place.

This play has remaining performances tonight (as I post this) and Sunday, May 31-June 1, at The Switch theatre in Ji-Eun Lee Music Academy, 10029 126th St., Fishers. Info and tickets at hyperionplayers.com.

– – –

Can’t help but see the events of the pivotal moment between Acts in these lyrics:

“And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time
‘Til touchdown brings me ’round again to find
I’m not the man they think I am at home
Oh, no, no, no
I’m a rocket man
Rocket man
Burning out his fuse up here alone.”

Mysterious forces at work in ‘Oak’ at Phoenix Theatre

By John Lyle Belden

During the new Terry Guest drama “Oak” at the Phoenix Theatre Cultural Center, you could ask, what’s happening? The simple answer is that children and teenagers routinely disappear near Odella Creek, deep in rural Georgia, and have for generations. The query then follows: How? And why?

To learn the legend, we meet local youngsters Pickle (Jadah Rowan), her little brother Big Man (Joshua Short), and their cousin Suga (Tracy Nakigozi). They each know a version of the two-century-old story of Odella, a slave girl who, not long after giving birth, found an opportunity to escape – alone. It was believed that she drowned in the creek that now bears her name, near the old oak.

The implied question becomes, is this a simple horror story of a disturbed ghost, a vengeful spirit preying on children? Or is this something different – a cryptid, wild animals, or even a human predator? However, the question that we hear, announced over public address systems, is “Do you know where your children are?”

Pickle and Big Man get home after the 7 p.m. curfew, which only adds to the annoyance of their mother, Peaches (Psywrn Simone), who prepares for her shift at Krystal (a Southern burger chain similar to White Castle). The kids must stay at home after dark, at least until “snatching season” ends in July. On the radio, an urgent report states that this time, a white girl has disappeared.

Meanwhile, on the way to her house, Suga sees the glowing red eyes.

This chilling piece of Southern Gothic horror is a National New Play Network Rolling World Premiere. At each stop (this being the second between theatres in Florida and New York), the production takes on a different approach. For the Phoenix, Guest is joined by director Mikael Burke, who also worked on his “Magnolia Ballet” in 2022.

Conjuring the proper spooky atmosphere in a live performance is challenging, so the crew’s contributions are especially vital. The simple yet effective set design by Robert Koharchik, aided by lighting by Laura E. Glover and soundscape by Brian Grimm, put the action “in the round” with seating surrounding the floor of the black-box Basile stage. Aided by fog effects, well-played paranoia, and those “eyes,” the sense is not that we are surrounding the actors but that the setting has surrounded us with them.

Within this story is a memory best told as a fairy tale, “The Princess and the Wolf,” with excellent puppets by props artisan Kristin Renee Boyd.

Suspense grows, tempered with nervous humor – especially in the kids’ encounter with Simone as First Lady Temple, the shotgun-wielding old woman said to be the only survivor of whatever truly happens at Odella Creek.

Rowan, Short, and Nakigozi have not only the youthful look, but also deliver the right touch of childhood wonder, fear, and risk-taking appropriate to their young characters. Even at 16, Pickle still feels that childlike urge to believe what adults say is impossible – how else does she explain this world? With similar hopeful naivete, she and Suga feel that they will be safer if they move away to a big city.

Subtext is dense here, hanging thick as the moss around the stage or the Southern humidity you swear you can feel. The Black experience today and the burden of history are reflected in the horrors of Odella’s experience, the media’s different attitude towards a routine tragedy when inflicted on a white child, and an aspect of Paradise being where the taxis always stop for you. A reference to the Atlanta Ripper of the 1920s (an actual unsolved case) shows the history of public indifference when girls with dark skin vanish. The perils of escape – however it’s defined – are a constant motif.

We will get few answers here, and those received may haunt as much as those left unknown. Dare to find out what waits at the “Oak,” with performances through June 8 at 705 N. Illinois St., downtown Indianapolis. Get info and tickets at phoenixtheatre.org.

Getting help with all life’s ‘Stuff’

By John Lyle Belden

It’s the easiest trap most of us fall into: You need to save this. You must hold on to that. I’m not finished reading this. I’ll get around to making something with that… Time passes, boxes stack up. And then there are the mementos – especially when they signify a time, place, and most importantly a person, no longer around.

Suddenly, people tell you that you have a problem.

Local playwright Jan White presents, with Actors Ink Theatre Company, her comic drama “Stufferage” at The District Theatre, directed by Sandra Gay, who founded Actors Ink decades ago, and now dedicates it to providing performance opportunities for “People Of a Certain Age.”

As White notes in the program, roughly six percent of people have some sort of hoarding disorder. This gets further complicated by aging as well as other likely mental issues. In the play, inspired in part by actual people and events, Marty (Chad Pirowski) persuades his aunt Georgia (Sheila Wright), a therapist, to come out of retirement to aid his mission-oriented business, Stop Stuffering, in honor of his recently-deceased mother (Georgia’s sister), a lifelong serious hoarder. His idea is to help others with similar issues to declutter and organize their stuff to better deal with their lives.

To seek interest, they set up a “Help for the Overwhelmed” Facebook group and in-person meeting. They already have one client, Barbara (Melody Ware), who refuses to leave her overflowing home so is ordered by a judge to at least attend via Zoom.

Arriving in person: Sarah (Mary Hardin) let things accumulate during the Covid isolation period and is still nervous about venturing out. Married couple Jim and Donna (Rob Young and Tina Nehrling) see each other as the problem – her overflowing craft room, his overstuffed garage – but with additional endless piles of mail and magazines, their adult children let them know it’s both of them. Mimi (Stephanie Reinert) is obsessed with puppets, but the ever-growing accumulation of pieces, projects, and finished figures has ironically taken control of her life. Darrell (Brian Shobe) misses his late wife and, after several months, can’t bear letting go of any of her possessions.

Rick Northam is handy as various supporting roles, crew director, and the foley for an opening scene that, with awkward humor, gives us a sense of how bad things get for the “stuffering” and those who love them.

The narrative shows us the various ways these characters work through their issues, both the accumulated objects in their homes and learning to “clear the clutter from your heart.” There are varying degrees of success, with Barbara – “I have a right to my stuff!” – being the most difficult, her unsettled personality nearly as colorful as the exploded flea market of her front yard. The excellent scenic design, including piles and stacks capable of moving on and off stage as needed, is by Carlos Teeters.

We get compelling performances all around. Pirowski and Wright portray sincere empathy – hers more professionally, his with the sense of a son who wishes he had helped his mother more. Hardin and Shobe each pull our heartstrings. Young and Nehrling add more humor than rancor to their couple who seem to have arguing as a love language. Reinert is endearing and an inspiration to crafters everywhere as Mimi strives to actually make some puppets! Ware takes on the most complex role with appropriate gusto while keeping Barbara’s mental issues true to life.

A light-hearted and hopeful look at a serious problem, experience “Stufferage” Thursday through Sunday at The District Theatre, 627 Massachusetts Ave., downtown Indianapolis. Get tickets at indydistricttheatre.org.

Jewish Theatre of Bloomington: Herzog play goes the distance

By John Lyle Belden

How far would you go for a friend? For someone you love?

The Jewish Theatre of Bloomington presents “4000 Miles,” the 2013 Pulitzer finalist dramatic comedy by Amy Herzog.

Bill Simmons, who directed the Indiana premiere in 2012, is at the helm again. He said that the time that passed between these productions has given him better perspective on the main characters, 21-year-old Leo (Ryan Eller) and his 91-year-old grandmother Vera (Martha Jacobs, who was also in the 2012 Phoenix Theatre production).

Leo arrives unexpectedly around midnight at Vera’s New York apartment. He is excitable with hair-trigger moods, while she is patient and understanding, though a bit bewildered. He brings in his bicycle, having ridden not from his family’s home in St. Paul, Minn., but all the way from Seattle. He does not want his mother to know where he is.

Through 10 emotional scenes we learn what has brought Leo here, and the feelings and issues he must work through. This includes his relationship with Bec (Sofia Salgado), also in New York to attend college. One night, he brings home a young woman he just met, Amanda (Laura Rong), who resembles his adopted sister Lily (Rebecca Von Kirk). He has a lot to deal with, along with a sense that others believe he’s handling it all wrong. Meanwhile, Vera is dealing with her own feelings of things slipping away, including the passing of a dear friend in her “octogenarian club.”

The sharp script, excellent acting, and Simmons’ touch combine to make these strangers feel familiar, like people whose pain we don’t mind sharing. The generation gap and Vera’s feisty attitude generate a good amount of welcome laughs as a little absurdity finds its way into even the most serious situations. Beneath the problems is a genuine sense of feeling and connection, which leads to a hopeful outcome we can all feel as the play concludes.

Travel the much-shorter distance (from Indy) to experience “4000 Miles,” Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday, May 15-17-18, at the Waldron Art Center Rose Firebay, 122 S. Walnut St. (ground floor off 4th Street), Bloomington. Get tickets and info at jewishtheatrebloomington.com.

ALT characters only ‘Human’

By John Lyle Belden

With the passage of time, we are often prone to looking back at particular eras. Stephan Karam’s Tony-winning play, “The Humans” takes a snapshot of a day during the years between the national traumas of 9/11 and Covid.

In this 90-minute (no intermission) drama, presented by American Lives Theatre at the Phoenix Theatre Cultural Centre, Brigid and her partner Richard (Susannah Quinn and Trent K. Hawthorne-Richards) are hosting Thanksgiving dinner for her family – parents Erik and Deidre (Eric Bryant and Eva Patton), older sister Aimee (Jenni White), and grandmother “Momo” (Wendy Brown) – in her new apartment located in Manhattan’s Chinatown.

It’s a big place for New York, split-level on ground floor and basement, connected by a narrow spiral staircase, but with a view only of a cigarette butts and ash-filled inner courtyard, as well as the occasional disturbing mysterious noises from the neighbors. The one bathroom upstairs, while kitchen and dining area are below, becomes an issue because Momo has severe dementia and, though able to walk some, mostly gets around pushed in a wheelchair; also, Aimee has frequent intestinal symptoms from her ulcerative colitis.

These factors, as well as general family awkwardness, plus Erik and Richard each relating the weird dreams they have been having, serve up all the ingredients for a family-holiday comedy. However, while there a quite a few good laughs in this show, the overall tone is set by Erik’s Thanksgiving toast “to knowing what’s important,” because “one day, it goes.”

We find that each character has something slipping away or lost. As the plot gains substance, it draws out the essence of American life in the early 21st century: that we perpetually, for the sake of our sanity, ignore that every one of us is one setback away from catastrophe. The odd sounds, the grandmother’s babble of insistent phrases you almost understand, as well as individual reflections on a past September day, bring the fast-flowing currents of fear closer to the surface.

Plus, we learn about “pig smash,” which looks kinda fun.

Matthew Reeder directs, assisted by Jacob David Lang, on an excellent stage set by Rozy Isquith, featuring metal spiral stairs that are legendary around Indy theatres.  

As for the cast, this ensemble all know how to bring the feels. I find it difficult to single out any particular performance – White and Brown are among our friends, but I still think it’s fair to call them exceptional: White can play having all-the-problems while still being sweet and relatable; Brown gives a tender performance, punctuated by confusion, anger, and moments of something approaching mischief. Hawthorne-Richards works with nervous charm as the outsider point of view on the others’ family dynamic, and it’s nice (especially for something set only about a decade ago) that it is this different upbringing more than his skin tone that sets him apart.

Bryant brings gravitas to his paternal role, reflecting experience (on other stages) of seeing the story as a director (here, it’s Erik knowing this may not end well) and feeling it as an actor (struggling with circumstances he can’t control). Quinn plays the desperate soul bargaining that if one dream comes true – Brigid getting a nice place to live – her others don’t have to die, either. Patton maintains the stage tradition of the Mom who is like a rock while dealing with the growing cracks.

Walls thump and lights flicker, but knowing how fantasy stories end, we understand what it is that the ghosts and shadows fear. “The Humans” runs through May 11 on the Phoenix main stage, 705 N. Illinois, downtown Indianapolis. Get tickets at phoenixtheatre.org, information at americanlivestheatre.org.

Southbank: Seeing ‘Red’ in Black and White

By John Lyle Belden

American-born actor Ira Aldridge was the first man of African descent to play the lead role in Shakespeare’s “Othello” on the London stage in 1833.

(The tragic character Othello, as most know, was a Moor, dark-skinned from African heritage. But especially as he is the title role, even when Black actors were available in England he was always played by a White man in blackface.)

The play “Red Velvet,” by Lolita Chakrabarti, presented by Southbank Theatre Company, is about this and more, taking measure of a complex and controversial artist with particular emphasis on one of his many milestones.

We open and close the play in 1867 with Aldridge (Daniel Wilke) on what would be his final tour of Europe, performing “King Lear” in Lodz, Poland. We learn he has been a celebrity throughout the Continent and in the U.K., where he also managed a theatre. Turning 60, he is impatient, blustery, and forbids any press interviews (we’ll understand why later).

A young Polish reporter, Halina (Hannah Embree), manages to make her way into his dressing room, talking the actor into taking a few questions. Feeling her to be impertinent, he then sends her away. However, the memories have been triggered, and our scene switches to London, more than 30 years earlier.

During a sold-out London production of “Othello,” famed actor Edmond Kean, in the title role, has collapsed on stage and will never tread the boards again. Theatre manager Pierre LaPorte (Brant Hughes), a friend of Aldridge, sees a chance to make theatre history. Politically progressive company member Henry Forester (J Charles Weimer), who also supports the demonstrations against slavery in the British Empire raging at the time, likes the idea, but fellow thespians Bernard Ward (Doug Powers) and especially Kean’s son Charles (Matt Hartzburg) – who plays the Moor’s murderous rival Iago – do not.

It is argued that the British stage is for escapist fantasy, where a regular (White) person can pretend to be something he is not. This form of stark realism, Ward remarks, is as absurd as a real simpleton playing Caliban or a real Jew as Shylock. Still, LaPorte is adamant and the show goes on, with Aldridge baring his natural face.

While the men seem to fit archetypes one would expect to see in a story of shaking up things in a treasured institution, the women each take an intriguing perspective.

Ellen Tree (Liz Carrier), like the tragic female lead Desdemona that she plays, seems caught in the middle. She must act opposite Aldridge, the focus of this controversy, and she is the fiancé of Charles Kean, who threatens to walk out in protest. Her allegiance is to the company, and she seems intrigued by this American’s approach to the play and its characters. Wilke and Carrier, like the actors they portray, skillfully present themselves as professionals rehearsing a married couple who must stand close and touch each other as they are bonded by love and destroyed by jealousy. Is that all we see? Neither they nor Chakrabarti’s script under the direction of Donna McFadden give us an easy or definitive answer.

In a role of sublime subtlety capped by the profound moments when she finally speaks her mind, Kendall Maxwell is exquisite as the servant Connie. Just her presence at the back of the room – standing in contrast to the man of color who is treated as a peer and equal to the others who only see her as little more than a tea-serving automaton – speaks volumes.

Rachel Kelso plays Aldrige’s wife, Margaret, casually trusting and true to her famous husband. Her understanding helps buoy our feelings for Ira Aldridge, who in turn expresses genuine affection for her, especially when she is no longer with him.

Embree is also impressive, giving us a character having to power through her own issues in a society determined to limit her.

Also, in the 1867 scenes Weimer amusingly plays a randy German stagehand, while Powers is Aldridge’s longsuffering personal assistant.

Hughes delivers a sharp performance as one struggling to keep both a career and a friendship without losing both. His character’s Frenchness makes him a sufficient outsider to be the catalyst of change, still, he’s all (show) business for his role in these events.

We come to find in the play’s title an aspect of Aldridge’s life’s arc. He recalls peering through velvet curtains as a boy to see his first plays; as an adult, he dons a crimson velvet cloak as the Moor. (Just one of many excellent costumes by Karen Cones.) Turning convention on its head, in preparing to play the aging King, he applies greasepaint to lighten his skin.

A reflection and commentary on racial and gender discrimination that has us considering how much has truly changed, and what it has taken to change it, wrapped in an intriguing portrait of a historic individual, “Red Velvet” has one weekend of performances left, Thursday through Sunday, May 1-4, at Shelton Auditorium, 1000 W. 42nd Street, Indianapolis (Butler University campus).  Get info and tickets at southbanktheatre.org.

‘Dracula’ stalks Garfield Park

By John Lyle Belden

Garfield Shakespeare Company is taking on a couple of classics outside the Bard’s folios, including the 1920’s adaptation of “Dracula,” by Hamilton Deane (who was authorized by the Bram Stoker estate) and John L. Balderston.

The play makes some small changes from the novel and sets the story in the ‘20s so that Count Dracula arrives in England overnight by airplane rather than in the hold of a cursed ship. Otherwise, things look eerily familiar.

We open with the events of Stoker’s story already in progress. Mina died in recent weeks of a strange sort of anemia, and now Lucy Seward (Kyarah Love) is weakening from a similar condition. Her father, Dr. Seward (Banjamin Mathis), is perplexed and worried – and further stressed by the rantings of Renfield (Derrick Krober) a troublesome patient in his sanitorium.  Lucy’s fiancé, Joan Harker (Tess Smith), shares Seward’s concern and both have given their blood in transfusions to help sustain her. A new neighbor from eastern Europe, the nobleman Count Dracula (Christopher O’Hara) has also taken an interest.

At Dr. Seward’s request, his friend, the well-travelled scientist Abraham Van Helsing (Aaron Collins) arrives to investigate the cause of Lucy’s malady. We can tell he has an idea of the answer but must ascertain all the facts and ensure that all are ready to accept what he must reveal. Also on hand are the dutiful maid, Miss Wells (Sydney Engelstein), as well as the orderly Butterworth (Jake Hobbs), who has his hands full keeping Renfield in his locked room. Cuthbert, the plush mouse, plays himself.

GSC member Cheri Walker-Owens makes her directorial debut. Cheyenne Henson is stage manager, whose crew includes two – Miranda Khoury and costume designer Ella King – who become thralls of the vampire. Also vital to this production are fight director Chris Burton and especially intimacy director AJ Stannard, considering all the “necking” going on.

The well-paced story acknowledges that the audience already knows what is going on, with the characters steadily figuring it out with only about a scene’s worth of necessary disbelief once Van Helsing reveals the facts. The growing dread as Dracula stays steps ahead of his pursuers is amplified by the genius casting of O’Hara, whose tall frame, cinema-perfect look, suave manner, and mesmerizing baritone voice had us wondering if the Count himself had auditioned.

The gender swap of Joan (for Jon) Harker is barely noticeable as Smith is fierce, her character’s devotion being both shield and weapon against the unnatural foe. For his part, Collins gives an action-hero air to Van Helsing, constantly inspiring the others. Love only plays Lucy passive at first, giving her more range of feeling and a sense of internal struggle as the stakes become clear.

You likely know the story, but it’s something else to see it performed right in front of you, on a fairly small stage level with the seating on three sides. And you can’t beat the price – free! – but contact gscindy.org to reserve your seat. Performances are Thursday, Friday, and Sunday, April 24-25 & 27, at the Garfield Park Arts Center, 432 Conservatory Drive, Indianapolis.