Morgan Morton

Southbank ‘Crucible’: It’s not the witches we should fear

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By John Lyle Belden

In times of turmoil, people turn to faith either for hope or, too often, to look for monsters. Such was 1692 in Massachusetts Colony, when the blending of the Puritan church and state led to tragic hysteria. Such also was the 1950s, when the Red Scare inspired playwright Arthur Miller to look back to America’s genuine witch hunt to give us “The Crucible.”

In 2025, with political chaos and crisis churning daily, Southbank Theatre mounts a production of Miller’s play with an incredibly talented and dedicated cast. The period script with a more contemporary look bridges these eras, emphasizing this story’s relevance.   

Mostly true to the historical events, the play begins with girls engaged in a mesmerizing, mysterious dance. The Rev. Parris (Doug Powers) happens upon them, and in the shock of being caught in such forbidden activity – the dancing alone being punishable – his young daughter Betty (Ellie Richart) falls unconscious. Parris is furious, not just at what appeared to be a secret rite with some participants possibly naked, but more that his slave Tituba (Kayla Bush) was leading it and his niece and ward Abigail Williams (Hannah Embree) was involved.

Word quickly spreads around the village of Salem, including rumors of witchcraft. Occult expert Rev. John Hale (J. Charles Weimer) is called in to bring calm, but instead he sees signs of the Devil at work. When pressed for an explanation, Tituba fears for her life and tells the men what they want to hear. Arrests, interrogation, trials – and finally, executions – will follow.

Farmer John Proctor (Brian G. Hartz) tries to stay uninterested; however, he had recently had an affair with Abigail, who feels she should take the place of his wife Elizabeth (Morgan Morton) and lists her as an accomplice in her “confession” to witchcraft (giving names being a necessary step to avoid hanging). Also, the Proctors’ servant Mary Warren (Liz Carrier) has been attending and testifying at the court hearings.

We also meet Thomas and Ann Putnam (Darin Richart and Afton Shepard), wealthy landowners with both financial (property of witches is seized and sold) and spiritual (most of their children died in infancy) interest in goings-on. Francis Nurse (James Mannan) finds his wife, the midwife Rebecca (Adrienne Reiswerg) accused. Giles Corey (David Mosedale) likewise sees his innocent inquiry about his own wife jeopardizing their lives. The “bewitched” girls include Susanna Walcott (Mariah Rae Pearson) and the Putnams’ servant Mercy Lewis (Lauren Lotzow).

Director Eric Bryant plays Deputy Governor Thomas Danforth, the lead magistrate, assisted by Judge Hathorne (Paige Scott), with Ezekial Cheever (Matthew Socey) as clerk of the court. Deputy John Willard (Ian Hauer) finds himself having to arrest his friends and neighbors.

When what is and isn’t Christian – or demonic – are matters of law, they must be defined for the sake of enforcement. Modern concerns in the rise of Christian nationalism are echoed in the Puritan inquiries of this drama. The dynamics of power and privilege, or its lack, propel the plot in a situation that ironically becomes devoid of both magick and the mercy of Christ.

Hartz and Morton give powerful performances as the Proctors, finding the courage for their final ordeal. Embree sharply portrays a manipulative girl driven by youthful fantasy, tinged by a genuine fear for her life. Powers gives us the well-meaning local minister, frustrated by what he saw as a lack of respect, now compounded by events going further out of his control.

Bush and Carrier each show the horrors of being powerless with choices that condemn you no matter what you do. Reiswerg appropriately presents a person resolute in her convictions. Unfortunately, so do Bryant and Scott as uncompromising judges. Weimer gives the most complex performance, as a man who finds evil not in an entity but in unbudging egos, leading him to forego his own.

“The Crucible” tests its characters, as well as our own attitudes, a necessary exam for our own time.

Performances resume Wednesday and Thursday (Oct. 29-30), then Saturday and Sunday (Nov. 1-2) at Sheldon Auditorium, 1000 W. 42nd St., Indianapolis (southwest corner of Butler University campus). Get info and tickets at southbanktheatre.org.

Summit shows the ‘Different’ could be any of us

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By John Lyle Belden and Wendy Carson

Summit Performance Indianapolis does more than produce great plays. As a community outreach, it presents “This is Different,” an original one-act play, followed by open panel discussion, on living with and looking past the stigma of substance use disorder (SUD).

Quoting Summit: “It is the ninth Community Conversation One-Act produced by Summit and developed in collaboration with Dr. Sally Wasmuth… at the IU Indianapolis School of Health and Human Services… created from local interviews, conducted by Dr. Wasmuth.”

One performance remains, 7 p.m. tonight (June 28) on the main stage of the Phoenix Theatre Cultural Centre, 705 N. Illinois St., downtown Indianapolis. As the production is made possible in part by the City of Indianapolis and the Opioid Settlement Funds through the Indy Arts Council, all tickets are free, but reservations are needed at phoenixtheatre.org.

Told mainly through compelling monologues, the first-person stories collected by Wasmuth were crafted by playwrights Lauren Briggeman, the director and a Summit founder with long experience in drama; and Kelsey Johnson Lyons, who approached the script from her experience as a poet. Briggemen noted that choreographer Mariel Greenlee, formerly a company member with Dance Kaleidoscope, took the initiative in recommending movement used to underscore the performances. Simple yet effective lighting and sound are by Laura Glover and Olivia Lawson; Nico Meisner is stage manager.

The spirit of collaboration is reflected by the cast, each a major local talent: Tracy Herring, Miki Mathioudadkis, Morgan Morton, and Tracy Nakagozi. The source, script, and earnest delivery combine to thoroughly humanize the addicts in recovery that they represent. While additiction is expensive and devastating, they warn, most of all it is “sneaky.” It’s a party – until it’s not. Without excuses or complaint, the women who speak through these four relate their circumstances, their losses, what they salvage, and the human desire to belong, whether among others or just alone in your own yellow house.

You likely know or may even have been someone like these anonymous real souls. Especially if you don’t, it is imperative to understand them. The discussion after the one-hour performance gives plenty of room for exploring what this means to you, and all of us.

The title, “This is Different,” turns out to have a double meaning. It is what that voice within says when it dawns that instead of using a substance, the roles are reversed; then it’s the realization when after all your attempts to get “clean,” you finally see real recovery.

Big thanks to Dove Recovery House for its participation in this production, and to the continued community work of Summit Performance Indianapolis.

Southbank: It truly is all relative

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By John Lyle Belden

Very few people can know what it is like to be Albert Einstein – arguably, one – but did he understand, or care, what it is like to be the rest of us?

In “Relativity,” a drama by Mark St. Germain presented by Southbank Theatre Company, in December 1949 Einstein (Anthony Johnson) receives a visit from a young reporter, Margaret (Morgan Morton), at his home on the Princeton University campus. His housekeeper/secretary Ms. Dukas (Miki Mathioudakis) doesn’t approve, but the lauded genius welcomes another opportunity to talk about himself and his contributions to physics.

However, since his decades of research, discovery, and scholarly work had been written about numerous times already, Margaret maneuvers the interview to other topics, such as Einstein’s two marriages, and his children. What’s there to say, Einstein says, reciting the publicly known facts.

But she has also interviewed Albert’s son – now things get serious.

In this imagined incident, employing Einstein’s own quotations and writing, one of the greatest intellects of the last century is probed to explore the nature of relationships, family, and what is important. We confront the burden of genius: what it owes the world, and what we owe to it.

Director Ronn Johnston said what we see on the stage is so much more than what one would read from the script. He worked with our highly-talented trio to bring life and dimension to these characters – two we don’t know and one we can only presume to – to give a more genuine, relatable conversation between one leading with the heart and another from his unique brain.

This comes at a time when Einstein, who felt he had brought order to our understanding of the universe, explored the new frontier of quantum theory, reconciling the unpredictable with his predictable cosmos. But where in this universe does a child fit in?

Johnson nicely embodies the walking contradiction of the serious intellect with the wild hair, relaxed suit and quotable sense of humor. Incomprehensibly complex equations calm him, while discussion of close relations brings on a darker countenance and mood. Morton seems to combine the aspects of a strong woman and questioning child into a single irresistible interrogator.  Mathioudakis portrays a tireless defender feeling she may be the only one to truly understand the man, including his flaws.

Energy and matter, or the people who matter – explore “Relativity” Thursday through Sunday at Shelton Auditorium, 1000 W. 42nd Street, Indianapolis (Butler University campus).  Get info and tickets at southbanktheatre.org.

IndyShakes: ‘Caesar’ as seen by CNN or C-SPAN

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By John Lyle Belden

Julius Caesar. If you didn’t sleep through World History or Western Civ in high school or college, you are familiar with his name and his brief reign over the Roman Empire. Thanks mainly to the tragic play by William Shakespeare, his fate is forever part of popular culture – especially in mid-March, when the man becomes a meme on your smartphone.

What if those early 21st century devices were available in the 1st century BC? In the common practice of adapting the Bard to different eras, Indy Shakes and Zach & Zack present Shakespeare’s “Julius Caesar” in a tech-savvy Rome complete with 24-hour social media and news cycle. In the big black box of the Basile stage of the Phoenix Theatre Cultural Centre, we get a multimedia blitz of projected talking heads, Tweets on X, and smartphone video streams, with our players front and center enacting the familiar story with the freshness of breaking news. Diverse casting of race and gender, along with modern dress with hints of official robes, help make ancient times feel like today.

Quick refresher: The death of fellow leader Pompey left Caesar (Andy Ahrens) the sole Consul over the Roman Republic. This worries the Senate, who easily surmise that the man will overtake them as a tyrannical dictator. In Shakespeare’s telling, Cassius (Scot Greenwell), who was close to Caesar and feels him both too ambitious and too weak (the stigma of his epilepsy) persuades Brutus (Jen Johansen), another beloved of Caesar, to join a conspiracy to assassinate their Emperor. Despite signs and warnings, Caesar enters the Senate on March 15 and is slaughtered by his countrymen. Antony (Kelly Mills) plays along with the killers, but when given a chance to address Caesar’s funeral, stirs the people of Rome to action.

Other roles include Morgan Morton as Brutus’s spouse Portia, as well as Cinna the Poet; Carlos Medina Maldonado as Cinna the conspirator and others; Chandra Lynch, Daniel Martin and Immanuel Umoren as conspirators Decius Brutus, Trebonius, and Casca; Kelli Thomas as Brutus’s servant Lucius; Tiffany Gilliam as Caesar’s wife, Calpurnia; and Jacob Barnes as the Soothsayer, and later Octavius Caesar (who will eventually become Emperor Augustus).

From top to bottom, the cast have solid resumes and consistently display their dramatic talents throughout. It is in this adaptation, though, that Johansen’s Brutus stands out, doggedly facing both inner and outer conflict, reluctantly justifying extreme acts, then standing up to the consequences. Ahrens plays Caesar as having noble intentions but too driven to see how his larger-than-life personality could inspire his doom. In today’s U.S. Senate, Greenwell’s Cassius would be that devious deal-maker who would go to any length to advance his agenda, a Ted Cruz with knives. Mills’s Antony manages to come off as the rare honest politician, rising to the occasion like our memory of JFK, or Obama at his inauguration. Zack Neiditch is director, with sound and video design by Zach Rosing. Excellent costumes are by Tony Sirk with Caitlin Davey.

Still, the whole of this production is greater than the sum of its well-executed parts, going beyond just putting old speech in a new setting. In a time when tragic events, including wars, unrest, and celebrities performing to ever-present cameras are constantly on our television, computer and phone screens, this makes historical events feel even more “real” than any attempt to tell the story in its own time.

Two weekends remain of “Julius Caesar,” through May 19, at 705 N. Illinois St., downtown Indianapolis. Get information and tickets at indyshakes.com or phoenixtheatre.org.

Bard Fest presents heavy ‘Hedda’

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By John Lyle Belden

Trigger warning: Suicide.

Now that I’ve given that necessary note, I can delve into why – if you feel up to it – you should see the Indy Bard Fest production of Henrik Ibsen’s “Hedda Gabler,” adapted by Jon Robin Baitz, directed by Chris Saunders at Arts for Lawrence’s Theater at the Fort.

For those, like me, who may have read Ibsen’s “A Doll’s House” in school but are not aware of this work, another example of his bold realistic look at society in late 19th century Norway, Gabler is a headstrong woman whose beauty attracts men while her icy demeanor keeps them at bay: the original “mean girl.” The daughter of an army General, she is also accustomed to a certain standard of living.

The play opens with Hedda (Morgan Morton) returning from her long honeymoon after marrying the academic George Tesman (Joe Wagner), an uber-nerd who spent most of those months in tedious research. It becomes evident that she has married him mostly for his potential status once his scholarly works are published, and takes his puppy-like devotion as her due. She enjoys being rude to George’s aunt Julia (Susan Hill) and indifferent to the servant Berta (Carrie Reiberg) in this big house that George can barely afford.

The Tesmans aren’t the only ones back in town. Eilert Lovborg (Matt Kraft), who had been a hopeless alcoholic as well as Hedda’s old flame, has turned up sober with a popular book that rivals the one George is still working on. Aided by Thea (Anna Himes), whom Hedda used to bully in their school days, he also composed an even better follow-up – the only manuscript copy of which is in his bag. However, a boys’ night out with George and the unscrupulous Judge Brack (Clay Mabbitt) sets in motion events with tragic consequences, aided by Hedda’s machinations.

Though the play predates Freud’s works, it shows Ibsen’s keen perception of various neurotic types – which our cast ably take on. Kraft’s Lovborg is the restless genius bohemian; Wagner’s detail-obsessed yet socially oblivious George appears to be on the autistic spectrum; Himes’ Thea is desperate to rise above her fears, and at the very least redirect her people-pleasing impulses to someone more appreciative than the distant husband she left to be with Eilert; Mabbitt’s Brack is the classic sleazy womanizer and party hound with a position he can use over others.

But most fascinating, of course, is our title character. Hedda’s narcissistic aspects are obvious, but she also has a unique perspective on life, honor, and the way things should be that lead her to an even more untenable position. Morton has all her stone glances and manic moments down perfectly, keeping her fascinating enough to not let us be completely put off by her brusque demeanor.

This brilliant examination of a fateful 48 hours in the lives of people filled with pride and potential has one more weekend, Friday through Sunday, Nov. 10-12, at Theater at the Fort, 8920 Otis Ave., Lawrence. Get info at indybardfest.com, tickets at artsforlawrence.org.

ALT: Voices on the right take their ‘Turn’

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By John Lyle Belden

What if you were in an echo chamber, and the voice coming back questioned you? Or said something else entirely?

Welcome to the edge of a small town in the west-central part of Wyoming, home of cowboys and a Catholic college. It’s Trump country – especially in August 2017, with conservatives still grateful they narrowly avoided a Hillary Clinton presidency and perhaps realizing that buffoonery was about all they would get from the President they elected.

In the Pulitzer-nominated drama “Heroes of the Fourth Turning,” by Will Arbery, presented by American Lives Theatre, you will find no “liberals,” yet these four young men and women gathering seven years after graduation from the college, celebrating their mentor becoming its president, aren’t entirely of the same mind.

The atmosphere is ominous: Could it be that the infamous Charlottesville riot was just days ago? Or that this land where the Plains meets the Rockies will soon be in the totality of a solar eclipse? Or is it something about the deer that Justin (Tyler Lyons) shot, or that unnatural noise in his shed? His guests – Teresa (Morgan Morton), who lives in Brooklyn, N.Y., and admires then-White House advisor Steve Bannon; Kevin (Taylor Cox), an apparent alcoholic working for a Catholic publisher in Oklahoma; and Emily (Devan Mathias), who lives with chronic pain and in the shadow of her mother, Dr. Gina Presson (Gigi Jennewein), whom they have gathered to honor – start to have what Kevin likes to call “big conversations.”

Teresa is fascinated by the controversial 1997 book, “The Fourth Turning,” by social scientists William Strauss and Neil Howe, and treats it like prophesy, asserting the “Turning,” a time of upheaval, is upon them. She calls it an imminent “war,” and Justin, a Marine veteran, agrees, seeing the conflict not as spiritual, cultural or rhetorical, but armed revolution. Emily, who battles mental and physical torment with an exceptionally upbeat outlook – “pain and grace,” she calls it – doesn’t want to hear any of it. Kevin, feeling uncertain about everything, wants to delve further. To change the topic, Justin tells of a children’s-book story he is working on, “The Grateful Acre,” about the stoic optimism of a plot of land.

Eventually Gina arrives, and when prodded for her thoughts, adds her perspective to the party.

In the words of Arbery, with the guidance of director Andrew Kramer, we get excellent insight on what people on the political right are thinking and why. Any notes from the other side of the spectrum come from experiences with others, as bits of devil’s advocacy, or in warnings from Teresa that “this is what they say about us.” The militant and reactionary perspectives dash against the rocks of Gina’s intellectual conservatism (think Bannon vs. George Will), but even her logic frays at the edges.

Morton and Lyons are solid as characters who stick to their guns (one figuratively, the other literally). Jennewein’s stalwart academic reminds me now much I miss the relatively measured stance of the late Bill Buckley Jr.

Mathias nimbly gives us a necessarily complex character, too often finding herself in the middle of things with no real control. Emily also has a life experience that impacts her conservative Catholic beliefs, a thing that won’t reconcile easily.

“It’s hard to be the ‘Holy Fool,’” Kevin says, but Cox gives us a master class in embodying the archetype. Like the Fool who stood by King Lear in a storm, his Kevin is all over the place both in dialogue and movement, ever probing for the veritas his vino won’t provide. Ridicule, insult or pity him – as others do – but his jagged queries are worthy of answers.

This play was written and first staged in 2019, yet instead of feeling dated its contents become more profound in the light of what would happen in America over the next three years. One can argue if the Pandemic is the Fourth Turning, or if events have damaged the presumptions of Strauss and Howe’s work, but what’s portrayed are what people did (and do) think and feel.

Regardless of your place on the political spectrum, this is a worthy challenge to experience, leavened with a few situational laughs and a curious bit of supernatural edge. Remaining performances are 7:30 p.m. Friday and Saturday, Jan. 27-28, at the Basile IndyFringe Theatre, 719 E. St. Clair St., Indianapolis. Get info and tickets at AmericanLivesTheatre.org or IndyFringe.org.

Examining our Hoosier President

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By John Lyle Belden

History’s judgement of President Benjamin Harrison, Ohio-born but spent most of his public life in and in service to Indiana, is sort of a mixed bag. During his one term, 1889-1893, he championed progressive policies and admitted a half-dozen states to the Union, but then there was the protectionist tariff and economic troubles, rocky relations within his own party, and, in hindsight, the opportunities lost. Scholars rank him middling to lower-half on the list of best-to-worst Presidents, while Hoosiers like to celebrate their only Chief Executive (aside from his grandfather, territorial governor and “Tippecanoe”).

In “Benjamin Harrison Chased a Goat,” a new play by Hank Greene finally getting its premiere at Theater at the Fort (former U.S. Army post Fort Benjamin Harrison), the policy and politics are background to an examination of Harrison the man. In addition, we are reminded of important women in his life: Caroline Harrison, his wife, and Alice Sanger, the first woman stenographer in the White House.

And then, of course, there’s Old Whiskers, which would be referred to as the First Pet by today’s news media.

We meet the President (Steve Kruze) in the Oval Office as just a few hours remain before returning it to Grover Cleveland. He works on his Farewell Address, stuck for an ending, when he is surprised by the arrival of Sanger (Morgan Morton) – the only staffer left working in the White House, as all the men have exited for new positions. He is reluctant, but she persuades him to let her “polish up” his scattered notes. As he goes out to ruminate on the speech’s closing, Harrison is distracted by the wandering ruminant.

Much of the story follows in flashback. Harrison, flanked by trusted advisors Caroline (Carrie Schlatter) and longtime aide James Noble (Alex Oberheide), greet inauguration with optimism, despite not winning the popular vote in the 1888 election. Haunted by his famous name – and the soured legacy of John Quincy Adams not living up to his own Founding Father – Harrison is determined to accomplish great things in his own right. Seeds of doubt from this are nourished by Republican Party operative Edward Proctor (Joshua Ramsey), who blunts the President’s bold moves by advising the GOP’s cautious approach.

We also get glimpses of the relationship between Benjamin and Caroline, from the first dance to the last chimes of the music box. Her importance becomes clear, despite the mostly ceremonial position of First Lady. She chafes at being only known as the woman who brought electricity to the White House, and who rid it of (four-legged) rats. Trouble stirs at both the speech Mrs. Harrison gives to the Daughters of the American Revolution, and the speech she opts not to give.

What happened to that electrifying speaker who helped elect an Indiana governor? What will his last words as U.S. President be, and will they be remembered? And where is that goat, anyway?

Kruze and Schlatter make a dynamic First Couple, devoted though their love gets tested to the breaking point. Their then-controversial “progressive” views sound more like conventional wisdom now (and the gold vs. silver standard debate, rather quaint) so we mainly see committed public servants working with the noblest intentions. Morton helps put a spotlight on another real historical figure, as Sanger speaks for the common person wanting to know why all this politics and policy matter.

Oberheide delivers an excellent performance of the right-hand man who becomes taken for granted, Noble’s disillusionment the indicator that our leader’s path has gone astray. As Proctor, Ramsey’s delivery is as perfect as his impeccable facial hair. He doesn’t twirl that curled mustache, though, as he is not a villain but more representing the way party politics have been conducted throughout American history. His arguments for inaction and vague promises can be heard on Capitol Hill today.

Directed by Christine Kruze, this play, like many historical dramas, is an enlightening look at the past with some lessons for our present. Best of all, it’s a nice insight into a man whom history largely overlooks. Circumstances limited the run to the current weekend, Aug. 12-14. If you are reading this in time, find tickets at ArtsForLawrence.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.

Bard Fest: Scott edit does ‘Measure for Measure’ justice

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By John Lyle Belden

“Measure for Measure” is classified by Shakespeare scholars as one of the Bard’s “problem plays,” fitting not quite into the comedies (though using many of the familiar devices) yet not quite a tragedy, as it doesn’t end with someone dying on stage. In adapting the drama for Bard Fest, director Paige Scott lets us know the true “problem” is injustice and misogyny.

In a mythically modern Venice, the Duke (David Mosedale) notes that many laws, especially dealing with vices, have gone unenforced for years. In a bizarre experiment, he charges pious Angelo (Zachariah Stonerock) with taking charge of the Duchy and its ordinances while away on a journey. However, he doubles back, and disguised as a priest, observes how justice is meted out. 

Things get serious quickly, as Claudio (Bradford Riley) is arrested for fornication with now-pregnant Juliette (Brittany Magee) and Angelo coldly sentences the man to death. But when the condemned man’s sister, novice nun Isabella (Morgan Morton) goes to plead for his life, Angelo agrees to do so only in exchange for the woman’s virginity. Appalled, but desperate, Isabella finds herself torn between bad options. Fortunately, a kindly priest offers a solution.

We also have a sense of Angelo’s character in the way he treats his loyal assistant Escalus (Miranda Nehrig), who takes her bruises against the glass ceiling with grin-and-bear-it frustration. 

Magee also plays sex-worker Mistress Overdone, as well as Angelo’s nearly-forgotten fiance Marianna. Further good performances from Aaron Henze as Lucio – a good friend to Claudio, but a flair for exaggeration is his undoing – and Daryl Hollonquest Jr. as Pompey, a “bawd” barely a step ahead of dogged constable Elbow (Tracy Herring).

Stonerock plays his calculating villany chillingly straight, his contemporary suit and tie reminding us that not much has changed in the last 400 years with men in charge. Morton bristles as a woman in a conflict she should never have to endure, finding her Churchly authority useless, cheapened to a powerful man’s fetish. 

There is humor and an imperfect happy ending, but Scott’s skillful edit leaves us appropriately unsettled, focused on three women bravely looking for their fair “measure.” 

This stunning, conversation-starting production has performances Friday through Sunday, Oct. 29-31, at IndyFringe Basile Theatre, 719 E. St. Clair, Indianapolis. Info and tickets at indybardfest.com.

ALT: Intense drama includes talkback after every show

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By John Lyle Belden

American Lives Theatre, the latest new company to the Indianapolis stage scene, makes a bold and provocative debut with its production of Pulitzer finalist “Gloria” by Branden Jacobs-Jenkins.

In the offices of a New York-based magazine, aspiring writers, stuck as assistants to faceless editors, snipe at each other as they lament their lack of opportunity, discuss their exit strategies, and seek to take advantage of the breaking story of a celebrity death. Dean (Joe Barsanti) is facing his 30th birthday with the vain hope that his memoir on his struggles in a dying industry will make all this worth it. Ali (Morgan Morton) is very go-along-get-along, which infuriates super-ambitious Kendra (Kim Egan). It’s the last day for intern Miles (Joshua Short), who is questioning his career path, now that he has seen the beast from the inside. The general commotion in this room infuriates Lorin (Tom Weingartner), trying to keep up with the demands of being chief fact-checker down the hall. Meanwhile, Gloria (Bridget Haight) — generally quiet and kinda weird, but a constant presence for the past 15 years — keeps dropping by, appearing anxious. Could this have something to do with the housewarming she hosted the night before, to which only Dean showed up?

This is about all I dare reveal of the plot. Director (and ALT founder) Chris Saunders notes that the content of this play includes a “trigger warning” due to a very specific trauma at the heart of the story. But I won’t spill, as the shock is an essential part of the drama. 

Fortunately, there is plenty of satirical and workplace humor, even as the characters become haunted by their circumstances. Haight also plays Nan, an editor with her own perspective that receives attention. Most of the cast also have additional roles, notably Short as a rather in-charge Starbucks barista. All have talents well up to their task.

“Gloria” is not so much about what happens, but rather how we deal with it. As each person comes to terms with their role and reactions, it becomes a question, as Saunders asks in the post-show discussion, “who owns the rights to trauma?”

Yes, there’s a talk-back — after every performance. Saunders hosts, and the actors may also get involved. Given what happens in the play, this can be a very important part of the overall experience.

Performances are Friday, Saturday (Jan. 17-18) and the next Friday through Sunday (Jan. 24-26) at the IndyFringe Theatre, 719 E. St. Clair. Get info and tickets at americanlivestheatre.org or indyfringe.org.