Lukas Schooler

Athenaeum, NoExit present mysterious ‘Gathering’

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By John Lyle Belden

The Athenaeum in downtown Indianapolis has long been reputed to house restless spirits.

At “The Gathering,” step inside and find yourself in 1919, right after the first World War, during a pandemic known as the Spanish Flu, and at the dawn of Prohibition. Also on people’s minds and hearts were the practice and promise of Spiritualism, a faith path leading many to seek communication with the dead.

This theatrical experience is presented by NoExit Performance, resuming the local company’s practice of site-specific productions.

Famed medium Madame Josephine (Callie Burk-Hartz) has returned to Indianapolis, her hometown, to give her final public séances at the former Deutche Haus. We in the audience are that public. While waiting for her show to begin, we happen to witness some interesting goings-on.

William (Bill Wilkinson), a former skeptic turned Prognosticator, shows us one of his mentalist tricks. Max (Jaddy Ciucci), a Metaphysician, arrives with a curious electric device she wishes to show Mme. Josephine. This sparks the curiosity of Edith (Kallen Ruston), a local reporter.  

Meanwhile, young widow Lorraine (Georgeanna Smith Wade) seeks a private audience with the medium, which the show’s producer Victor (Lukas Felix Schooler) says is not possible without a substantial additional fee. The distraught woman persists, as she needs to contact the spirit of her recently-lost daughter – providing it doesn’t also arouse the shade of her late husband.

We also encounter Nellie (Beverly Roche), a “scientific” Palmist, as well as a fellow Spectator (Audrey Stonerock) about whom we learn something we weren’t meant to know.

The audience moves through this production as the scenes play out in several rooms. This also takes us up backstage stairs not usually open to the public (those with mobility issues are taken to the similarly decorated elevator).

Some moments involve movement to evoke the hidden turmoil of these characters, with all their secret feelings and motivations. The first was surprising, but they shouldn’t be for those familiar with NoExit, juxtaposed with the more realistic portrayals of dialogue.

We join the séance itself on the historic stage of the Athenaeum. A rare view of its workings aids the feeling of being in a world on the haunted edge of comfortable reality.

Performances are first-rate, skillfully maintaining the atmosphere so that suspense is imperceptible until the foreboding mood is all around us like an ethereal fog. Smith Wade draws on our empathy while hinting at the darkness that follows her. Schooler keeps Victor equal parts protective and manipulative, never allowing us to trust even as we feel compelled to follow. Burk-Hartz perfectly presents tired and troubled Madame Josephine, up to now a polished professional, yet sensing in this night something too real for mere entertainment.

The subplot building with Ciucci and Ruston’s characters is pleasantly intriguing, as well as the presence of Wilkinson and Roche’s practitioners of occult arts who, though wise to the tricks, are still drawn into the growing sense of mystery.

My one criticism, which could be seen as a compliment – being left wanting to see more. It felt like another scene or two could have deepened the narrative, giving more context and purpose for all the characters, aside from one person’s grave secret mostly revealed at the evening’s climax.

Still, there is plenty here to see and feel. And some things are necessarily left in shadow for us to ponder, just as it should be for this chilling experience.

Performances start in the lobby of the Athenaeum, 401 E. Michigan St., at 7 and 8:30 p.m. Thursday, Friday and Saturday, Oct. 23-25. For information and tickets, visit AthenaeumIndy.org. Get NoExit info on their Facebook page.

IndyFringe: ‘Another Medea’

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By Wendy Carson

This production was part of the 2025 Indy Fringe Festival in August.

If you recognize the name “Medea,” you may know it* from ancient mythology: A spurned woman who kills her children when her husband leaves her to marry another. However, those who read and study her mythos know she is a far more complex and fascinating character. In fact, not all tales have her as the one who kills her children.

Regardless of your familiarity with the story, playwright Aaron Mark has found a unique spin with “Another Medea,” American Lives Theatre’s Fringe production.

Lukas Felix Schooler brings us the story of Marcus Sharp, a brilliant stage actor whom he idolized for years before his arrest and imprisonment.  They correspond for three years, until, though he had long refused to say a word in his defense, Sharp becomes convinced that he can trust this man to bear his tale.

Schooler then embodies Sharp for the rest of the performance, enacting that fateful prison interview.

Sharp’s story centers around Jason, a wealthy oncologist, with whom he enters into a committed relationship. Jason is supportive at first, but when work opportunities away from their West Village penthouse appear, he finds ways to discourage Sharp from accepting them.

A typical narcissist, Jason insists that his love (and money) is all Sharp will need. However, like so many others who put aside their own careers to be devoted to a partner, Sharp becomes hopelessly bored. He develops a close relationship with Jason’s sister, Angelica, which helps him to feel more useful, and gives him an idea for the perfect gift for his darling Jason’s 50th Birthday.

Since Jason adores children but is unable to have any of his own, Sharp will impregnate Angelica, and the children would be as close to actual genetic children that Jason could have. While Jason freaks out at first, he warms up to the idea and the twins, Grace and Lily soon arrive.

Everything is wonderful again, but after a few years, Jason takes Sharp to a play and spies a handsome young star, Paris, and a new “friendship” begins. Also wealthy, Paris better understands Jason. So, of course, he starts to usurp Sharp’s place in the household and family.

Things escalate quickly from there, resulting in Sharp’s current incarceration. Before he ends the visit, he mentions that the tale would make an excellent one-man show.

Not only does it make a great show, but it is also mesmerizing. Schooler is such a remarkable presence. He invites you on a journey and you fully follow him down every twist, turn, and rabbit hole to the conclusion. Schooler’s master class performance was directed by Jacob David Lang, who assures us that we will be safe from the orange-clad felon as we share this experience.

This is such an amazing piece of theater. I was personally moved beyond words at how vividly the prose was woven into a story that I felt I witnessed rather than just watched. If you missed seeing it, you should really petition American Lives Theatre to see about bring back another staging so you too can experience this harrowing saga.

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(*If you were thinking the Tyler Perry comedy character, she is “Madea,” likely named as an allusion to the myth, but with complications of her own.)

Betty Rage lets us in on a secret

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By John Lyle Belden

Betty Rage Productions presents the longest-running stage play, Agatha Christie’s “The Mousetrap,” in cooperation with The Scottish Rite Valley of Indianapolis, at Indianapolis Scottish Rite Cathedral, directed by the company’s original “Betty,” Callie Burk-Hartz.

The quirky whodunit opened in London in 1952, around when the play is set, and has been performed perpetually since (except for a break for Covid). For the second time in recent memory, this fun mystery plays in Indianapolis, with the hope that all who see it keep to the long-standing tradition to reveal to no one its secrets, including who “dun” it.

As the radio gives a bulletin about a brazen murder in London, near Paddington, Mollie and Giles Ralston (Hannah Embree and Charles Weimer) arrive to prepare Monkswell Manor for its guests. Married just a year, they have just acquired the old home located 30 miles outside the city and have just opened it as a rooming house. She seems wistful and hopeful, while he is stoic and matter-of-fact, still they share a subtle affection.

Just as a blizzard intensifies to confine everyone to the manor (naturally, this is a Christie story after all) we meet hyper and talkative aspiring architect Christopher Wren (named after the famous one, played by Matt Hartzburg); the “perfectly horrible” and never pleased Mrs. Boyle (Gigi Jennewein); easy-going retired soldier Major Metcalf (Mookie Harris); Miss Casewell (Michelle Wafford) whose trousers and attitude mark her as her own woman, brooding and secretive; and finally the expressive and wildly Italian-accented Mr. Paravacini (Lukas Schooler) who not only tells you up-front that you can’t trust a thing he says, he seems to delight in it. The latter is a surprise arrival, having (allegedly) stuck his car in a snowbank, forcing him to walk to this, the nearest house.

Speaking of surprises, local policeman Sergeant Trotter (Aaron Stillerman) suddenly arrives on skis to investigate how Monkswell and its occupants are apparently related to the murder mentioned above. “Three Blind Mice” is the theme of the goings-on, and when body number two is found, the plot intensifies in a quest for the identities of both the killer and the endangered third “mouse.”

Performances are excellent with steady accents. Each acts suspiciously in their own way, keeping fellow characters and the audience guessing. Hartzburg and especially Schooler have a blast with their hilarious over-the-top characters, as others on stage remark on their eccentricities to reassure us that neither is too intense for what the setting and story allow.

Liz Carrier is assistant director and Jamie Rich stage manager. The Scottish Rite provides, aside from the beautiful J. Robert Wortman Auditorium, a stage crew as well as set and props. This includes behind the stage’s central windows a scenic backdrop that dates back to the Cathedral’s first presentations in 1929 (which explains why it is kept as-is and not “snow” covered).

The play only has a single-weekend run, with remaining performances Saturday and Sunday, March 8-9, at 650 N. Meridian, downtown Indianapolis (big castle-like building, you can’t miss it). Promise not to tell, and come see who gets caught in “The Mousetrap.” Get tickets at bettyrageproductions.com.

Good examination of ‘Bad Seed’

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By John Lyle Belden

The story that shockingly brought the question of nature vs. nurture in human evil to popular culture, “The Bad Seed,” is brought splendidly to the stage in an adaptation by Indianapolis’s own James Capps, produced and directed by Callie Burk-Hartz for Betty Rage Productions at the downtown Scottish Rite Cathedral.

Time brings a notable perspective to this drama. We, as a society, have learned an incredible amount in the decades since the 1954 novel by William March, which became a play that year and a hit movie in 1956. Since then, especially with the Criminal Minds and Hannibal Lecter books, films and TV series, as well as True Crime shows and podcasts, the average person is at least casually aware of the signs a person is a “born” psychopath or sociopath.

This sense of “if we only knew then what we know now” adds a deeper level of suspense and dread to the Capps play, placed firmly in the Eisenhower era, when the nature of criminality is only starting to be understood. Being born bad is a fringe theory, with juvenile acts chalked up to bad backgrounds. So, of course, 10-year-old Rhoda Penmark (played by 11-year-old Greta Shambarger) couldn’t be anything more than the perfect little girl adults take her to be.

She gets excellent care from doting parents Christine (Christine Zavakos) and Col. Kenneth Penmark (Lukas Schoolar) in their beautiful Tallahassee apartment. Col. Penmark gives Rhoda extra gifts and “baskets of hugs” to compensate for leaving on assignment to the Pentagon. Meanwhile, the girl is off to a school picnic, while Christine hosts lunch for friend and criminologist author Reginald Tasker (Tristin Ross) and landlady and upstairs neighbor Monica Breedlove (Shannon Samson), who is fascinated with Freudian psychotherapy.

The day turns tragic as Rhoda’s classmate Claude Daigle – whom she had been furious at for winning a Penmanship Medal she felt she had deserved – “accidentally” drowns during the school outing. Our girl then blithely skips home and quietly slips something into her keepsake box.

While coldly clever, Rhoda is still only as smart as her age, but goes far on charm, flattery, and, at turns, tantrums. Still, there are suspicions. Her teacher Miss Fern (Alyce Penny) is impressed at her academic prowess but concerned at her inability to get along with peers, or to accept setbacks. The apartment building caretaker Leroy (Austin Hookfin), having a simple yet complex mind of his own, senses her constant deceit, and calls her out on it. Claude’s distraught mother, Mrs. Esther Daigle (Jenni White), is positive there is more than what she’s been told, but her excessive drinking blunts efforts to get at the truth.

Christine increasingly realizes what has been going on, and with the help of her father, former radio star and investigative journalist Richard Bravo (Ronnie Johnstone), digs at a deeper secret.

Performances are nicely delivered with a touch of melodrama appropriate to a 50s film, tension builds as revelations and bodies fall. Zavakos is touching as a devoted mother, afraid the blame could be partly hers, driven to extreme measures. Samson and Ross ably portray the know-it-alls who miss the big clue because they can’t see past the smile and pigtails – a pity they never asked Leroy, who Hookfin plays with a wink to his aw-shucks manner. White brings out the full tragedy of survivorship without support. Johnstone gives a case study on internal conflict, struggling against the inevitable pain to himself and others.

Shambarger, being a gifted young actress, makes you want to not let her near sharp objects until she’s at least in high school. She manages the layered expression of a person without emotion presenting emotion, a caught animal coldly calculating a way out, or a machine-like stare.

The timeless wood-trimmed auditorium of the Scottish Rite compliments the cozy living room set by Christian McKinny. Gigi Jennewein is assistant director; Kallen Ruston is stage manager, assisted by Jamie Rich.

As this is posted, there are performances tonight, Saturday afternoon and evening and Sunday matinee, March 1-3, at the Scottish Rite, 650 N. Meridian (entrance and parking in the back), Indianapolis. Get tickets at bettyrageproductions.com.

Thus Spake Southbank: Fascinating portrait of a misunderstood man

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By John Lyle Belden

It’s interesting that Marcia Eppich-Harris relates her writing of the play, “Seeking Nietzsche,” now premiering with Southbank Theatre Company, “out of order in 30- to 45-minute blocks, simply writing whatever I had time to blast out.” This scattered approach reflects how German academic and philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900) reportedly composed one of his more notable works, “Thus Spake Zarathustra,” which is referenced in the play.

True to a philosopher of at the edge of the modern world, this dramatic examination of the man goes back and forth, from his deathbed to his early academic career, to his various works, and to his key relationships. Lukas Schooler in the brushy mustache bears a resemblance to Nietzsche, and his talent at interpreting the often-misunderstood personality brings him brilliantly to life, noting, in Eppich-Harris’s words (that Friedrich would likely have said, given the chance), “Some men are born posthumously, as I was.”

The set, designed by Aric Harris, is a theatre of Nietzsche’s decaying mind – papers everywhere – which fits neatly into the pit-like indoor amphitheater of Shelton Auditorium at Butler University. Evren Wilder Elliott, familiar with being misunderstood and the struggle to make one’s self the best man possible, directs with an eye to portraying a man whose life and opinions were ever on the move, never predictably fixed. Nikki Sayer is stage manager.

In Nietzsche’s world, we meet his firmly conservative sister, Elisabeth Forster-Nietzsche (Amalia Howard), whose German Nationalist pride easily adopts the anti-semitism his brother never felt. There is also Lou Salomè (Trick Blanchfield), with whom Friedrich and another companion attempt a philosophical commune – a sort of thruple with no sex, but a lot of longing. That doesn’t last, but Salomè’s deep platonic affection for him does. Celebrated composer Richard Wagner (James Mannan) is embraced as a father figure; his works were as brilliant as his views on society were toxic. Swept up by the former, Nietzsche finally cannot tolerate the latter.

Much of the difficulty in understanding the philosopher was due to his fluctuating viewpoints, scribbled roughly on various sheafs of paper; this was further distorted by the posthumous editing of his sister, an eventual admirer of the new German Chancellor.

I joked to Eppich-Harris that I would have named the play, “God is Dead, and I’m Not Feeling Too Well, Myself,” but that sentiment does sum up the feeling of her “Finding Nietzsche.” In Wilder’s hands, with bold support by Howard, Blanchfield, and Mannan, we get from Schooler an intriguing soul always suffering in some manner – mentally, spiritually, and especially physically – but with an underlying cord of humor than never quite breaks until the moment he sees his legacy likely forever tainted, when we see the ghost of the man who mourned God, nearly cry.

Pardon the tangent, but consider how on short video online platforms, you can see an exploding object with the video run in reverse. The outer damage and exploded bits collapse towards the initial blast, finally bringing the true object in focus. This play hits “rewind” on the violently interpreted concepts such as the “ubermensch,” bringing us back to the contrary yet certain man who went out for a walk and came back with some insight.

A brilliant exploration of a man, his philosophy, and how they molded each other before changing the world, the play runs Thursday through Sunday, Sept. 21-24, at the Shelton, 1000 W. 42nd St., Indianapolis (Seminary side of the Butler University campus). Information at southbanktheatre.org, tickets through Butler Arts and Events.  

ALT: What happened there

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By John Lyle Belden

In the early 2000s, by annual average there was a suicide in Las Vegas roughly every 26 hours. However I feel about this, I can be confident it is true, as someone checked. The serious and fraught topic of self-harm is what gives the play “The Lifespan of a Fact” its riveting emotional heft, but at its core is the principle noted in the previous sentence.

This drama – with hilarious comic moments to get through the serious context – by Jeremy Kareken, David Murrell, and Gordon Farrell, is presented by American Lives Theatre, directed by Chris Saunders, at the Phoenix Theatre. It is based on a book by John D’Agata and Jim Fingal detailing their struggle with D’Agata’s 2010 essay in The Believer magazine.

Editor Emily Penrose (Eva Patton) calls upon intern Jim Fingal (Joe Wagner), a recent Harvard graduate, to fact-check the piece by D’Agata (Lukas Felix Schooler), which is ready to go to print in just a few days. Fingal is told to give it his best effort, as the writer is known to take liberties with details. “Give it the ‘full Jim’,” Penrose instructs, and boy, does she get it.

The essay, focusing on a teenager’s suicide – jumping from the city’s tallest casino tower – to comment on the greater culture of Las Vegas, is riddled with factual errors, starting with the lead paragraph. While the death itself is well-documented, various added details are wrong. Penrose tells Fingal to bring them up directly to D’Agata, which he does by flying out to visit his Vegas apartment.

At first the altered “facts” are trivial, inspiring much of the humor. When Penrose is alerted to one that could get the magazine in legal trouble, she, too, travels from to New York to Nevada, just hours before the presses in Illinois roll for national distribution.

I must note my own bias here. I am an experienced journalist, including a university Journalism degree and experience at four daily newspapers (most recently the Daily Reporter in Greenfield, Ind.). In my mind there was no question that D’Agata was in the wrong with the initial version of the essay. Deviations from the truth, even in details having nothing to do with the core event, and especially easy to confirm and debunk, hurt the credibility of not only the periodical and the writer, but also the valid point of the story itself.

However, D’Agata argues, this isn’t a news “article” but a non-fiction “essay,” and “the wrong facts get in the way of the story.” He justifies altering events for his writing’s symmetry, or because the wording doesn’t “sing” to him otherwise. What could appear as indulging in ego he sees as a higher calling to a deeper “truth.” Having gone to extensive research, interviews, and discussions with the deceased’s family, he feels too personally invested to submit to the smallest correction or alteration.

For his part, Fingal appears absurdly nit-picky – what color were the bricks, how many strip clubs were there? But what we would call “white lies” also contain more misleading falsities, and if any were detected by a reader, he notes, that same person could decry the whole essay as a “hoax” on social media.

Penrose understands the writer isn’t, strictly speaking, a journalist, and her magazine is more literary than hard-news, but she insists on having standards. Still – the writing was so good she senses this could be a major milestone for the publication, if she could just get everyone in agreement on the actual text.

Patton, Wagner and Schooler deliver riveting, top of their game, performances. No winks at the audience, this is serious business involving real people and real incidents (both the publication of the essay and the death that inspired it). The humor is purely situational, the absurd that comes with doing one’s job, this time with higher stakes.

“Trigger Warning” is very much applicable here, if you hadn’t guessed by the subject matter. The play contains the most heart-wrenching moment of silence, and an ending that lets no one off the hook.

The ALT play runs through Sept. 25 at the Phoenix, 712 N. Illinois St., Indianapolis; details and tickets at phoenixtheatre.org or americanlivestheatre.org.

The best-selling 2012 book, also called “The Lifespan of a Fact,” is still available in stores and online. The essay in question is still online in its checked, edited, and published form (Note: intensive discussion and description of suicide) here.

Let’s go to ‘Bed’

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By John Lyle Belden

“Bed Play,” by Shar Steiman, presented by Stagequest Indy, and directed by Ty Stover at the District Theatre, is a unique theatrical experience. But it also resonates with something universal in all of us.

To sum it up, I think of it as a Queer Epic Love Poem. I must give one caveat: mature language and content. There are an amazing number of ways to rhyme “uck” and other provocative words. So, consider it a hard “R” in movie terms. But, as one actor recently posted in social media, to simply say “it’s not for everyone” sells it short and gives an unduly negative impression. There is no nudity, aside from some glimpses of bum, and no sim-sex, as this show is not meant to shock, but to stimulate dialogue.

For 99 percent of romantic media, even in today’s accepting atmosphere, it is all cis-het boy meets cis-het girl. But if you truly feel that “love is love,” then celebrate in this performance when gay meets gay or trans meets trans.

We have four characters, played by Steiman, Lukas Schooler, Meghan Dinah, and Case Jacobus. Their personal relationship journeys go from hook-ups to partnerships. Four paths become two, but the lines cross, and each person has to reassess. At the center of it all is the one constant – the bed. Occupying center stage, it steadfastly supports our lovers as they flirt or fight, or just snuggle in each other’s warmth.

Steiman’s script is crazy amazing, the lyrics blazing, the same as I’m simulating in this stimulating paragraph, getting a laugh from the poets who know it takes real skill to fulfil this mission, done in the tradition of hip-hop and slam, constant rhymes in command, flow like Lin-Manuel Miranda, with uncensored, unfiltered expression, the impressions of confessions of love and sincereness and (actual quote) “the power of Queerness.”

Seriously, the versatile verses are a marvel unto themselves, as intriguing and probing as the relationships, and kept up throughout. At moments it is comparable to Eminem or Miranda, or even Shakespeare’s sonnets, but better to just say it’s Steiman’s brave genius at work. The co-stars give of themselves freely, taking on the words as though they composed them, and portraying honest affection, whether lusty, friendly, or feeling betrayed. The easy, natural manner in which they interact is also a credit to Intimacy Director Claire Wilcher (a local acting legend, recently trained and educated to aid in this manner).

Note the online program lists Ash Addams and Kelsey Van Voorst as alternate cast members.

Unless you really can’t deal with adults getting touchy-feely, accept the challenge of experiencing this unique “Bed Play,” through Sunday (July 8-10) at the District Theatre, 627 Massachusetts Ave., Indianapolis. Get tickets at Indydistricttheatre.org.

Quiet play has a lot to say

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By John Lyle Belden

The stage is so serene, as the actors silently enter one by one, you don’t want to make a noise in the audience, either.

To the delight of American Lives Theatre director Chris Saunders, the rule of silence in this retreat setting of “Small Mouth Sounds” by Bess Wohl, seems to permeate the room, as he presents, in his words, “What if you met a stranger and didn’t have the words to immediately assume everything about them?”

Jan (Kevin Caraher), a nicely dressed older man, calmly takes his seat. Ned (Zacharia Stonerock), wide eyes under his stocking cap, comes in looking unsure of himself. When Rodney (Lukas Felix Schooler), whose manner can’t help but project the fact he is a Yoga master, comes in and takes off his sandals, Ned immediately sheds his shoes and from then on, we have an assumed rule in this meeting space. The no-talking rule is also taken for granted, so it is jarring to hear married(?) couple Joan (Nathalie Cruz) and Judy (Jenni White) enter, bickering. But they get the hint, and soon the voice of the Teacher (Ben Rose) fills the space, exotically sounding like an English-speaking African man.

Teacher opens with a cryptic story of talking frogs; warns that the participants will not necessarily encounter him, or even Enlightenment, but “yourselves;” and gives the rules, which include that aside from a structured Q&A with him once a day, no one is to speak. During this, our last camper, Alicia (Morgan Morton) enters; the fact that she missed an important rule will come back on them later in the play.

Through our mind’s eye and the laying out of mats, the stage also becomes their cabin floor, as we get further impressions of these men and women, and the first lack-of-language barrier issue as Jan and Alicia were, it seems, assigned the same space.

Early on in this journey, the campers are instructed to each write their “intention” on a slip of paper, a source of friction when one accidentally reads another’s. As the drama builds, so does the humor, both drawing interesting and startling exchanges and moments from their self-enforced mime-hood.

Note that this play does include brief nudity, forbidden incense, and illicit use of Fritos. We also get Ned’s “life story,” as he accidentally asks the character’s most profound question. We also get a sense of deep loss – past, present, and future – each participant is working through. Even Rodney, acting blithely like a sort of yogic tourist, comes into some hard lessons.

At some point, practically every rule of the retreat is broken, which even brings Teacher – dealing with off-campus issues and finding Enlightenment via cold medicine – to his own self-reckoning.

Performances are sublime. Schooler uses his real-world yoga knowledge to good effect. Stonerock ably gives us a man struggling with his own identity, in more than the philosophical sense. Morton gives us someone about whom we learn so little yet feel for so much. We read volumes between the lines with White and Cruz – the former as a cancer survivor, and the latter recovering in her own way. And I don’t want to say too much about Caraher, but the revelation of his character sticks with you pleasantly.

Now that I’m outside that space, I feel free to speak up: See “Small Mouth Sounds,” in remaining performances Friday through Sunday, Dec. 10-12, at the District Theatre, 627 Massachusetts Ave., downtown Indianapolis. Info and tickets at americanlivestheatre.org.

Toymaker tinkers with oft-told tale

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By John Lyle Belden

In the hands of No Exit Performance’s Ryan Mullins and Georgeanna Smith Wade, Mullins’ portrayal of the toymaker Drosselmeyer has expanded to something far beyond the necessary supporting character for the “Nutcracker” ballet, emerging as a signature personality for the No Exit troupe.

His painted, sharp-dressed hunchback looks odd, yet exudes a confident charisma that makes him funny while kind of dangerous (and sexy, he’d insist I add sexy). From the moment he takes the stage, he is in charge, completely. The dancing, giggling players around him obey; the audience, under his firm gaze, are taken by his unusual charm. He can be challenged (and occasionally is) but never defeated – or can he?

I attended a production of No Exit’s “Nutcracker” a couple of years ago. With Drosselmeyer as the emcee, we were treated to a strange but entertaining variation of the story (with dance breaks, but none of the traditional ballet). This year our toymaker has invented something new, yet familiar.

“Drosselmeyer Presents: Another Twisted Classic” is the title of this year’s show, staged in a large downstairs garage area of the Tube Factory, the Big Car artspace located at 1125 Cruft St., Indianapolis (just off south Shelby near Garfield Park).

Our host promises the audience he will stage another edition of the Nutcracker, but first a little nap… Clues like this, and when we see Callie Burke-Hartz as a kid on a crutch, tell us what often-told Christmas tale this band is going to twist. You feel like you know what’s going to happen next – it sorta does, but it totally doesn’t, at least not like you’d expect.

Other notable characters (at this point Drosselmeyer insists you stop reading because it’s not about him; just see his show!) include Lukas Schooler as the magnificent mulleted Mustache Man, the toymaker’s rival for our attention; Michael Burke as the beautiful Ginger; Aaron Beasley as grifter handyman Mr. Scratchit; and the return of Drosselmeyer’s – um, friend? partner? servant? – darling Sparkle (Wade), who in the silent clown tradition, speaks volumes with a gesture. She just wants everyone to be happy, but is there any joy left for her?

Funny, inventive – as much an experience as a play – I highly recommend this show to anyone up for something a little unusual. There are a few mature moments, so this is best for teens and up. The stage location is down a steep staircase, but accommodations can be made for those who have difficulty with this.

Performances resume today (Dec. 7) and run through Saturday, with two more on Dec. 16-17. Get info and tickets at www.noexitperformance.org.

John L. Belden is Associate Editor for The Eagle (formerly The Word), the Indianapolis-based LGBTQ news source, where he also places his reviews.