Nia Hughes

Treadwell tragedy retooled by Southbank

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By John Lyle Belden

It’s enticing to explore the mind of a killer, but to only define the person that way misses the point and prevents understanding. In 1927, a woman – an unhappy mother possibly in an abusive marriage – brutally murdered her husband with the help of her lover. One of the most macabre photos published in a newspaper shows the moment of her execution in the electric chair at Sing Sing Prison.

The next year, journalist and playwright Sophie Treadwell published “Machinal,” a fictional examination of a case resembling the one recently in the headlines. This expressionist work with simple staging makes us feel the dark events as we witness them. In the 1920s, women in the workplace were fed into a social machine that used them as the system and the men who ran it saw fit. In the 2020s, Marcia Eppich-Harris proposes that these grinding gears still turn as director of the play for Southbank Theatre Company.

With a dream-like atmosphere (often edging on nightmare), setpieces shift, props become representational, and while costuming stays in the earlier era, technology blends typewriters and telephones with smartphones and laptops. The cast of Natalie Beglin, Brant Hughes, Nia Hughes, Adriana Menefee, Beverly Roche, Patrick Vaughn, and J. Charles Weimer each take on various roles, as well as often appearing in dapper black hats as a sort of Greek Chorus to enhance and punctuate the scenes.

At the center of this is our Young Woman, an excruciatingly brilliant performance by Alaine Sims. With Eppich-Harris’s guidance, she bravely gives substance to the experience of crippling anxiety.

The world is unkind to Her, perhaps as much as for other women who seem to have adapted. With the resigned acceptance of her mother (Roche) and at his insistence she marries her boss (Vaughn) though she can’t stand his touch. She gives him a child, bearing his disappointment at a daughter rather than a son. Then, in the arms of a lover (Brant Hughes) she feels “purified” and plots her escape. Finally, betrayed by lilies and little stones, she meets the fate foretold in the electric hum of the opening scene.

With dialogue often in patter that anticipates beat poetry and hip-hop, and the haunting jazzy Chorus who could be echoes of the press, a jury, or just city folk of the Roaring Twenties who read-all-about-it, this drama flows like a well-told story, reaching out to the frustrated soul within us, reminding us that the machinery is ever turning.

Madison Pickering is assistant director, with Gary Curto as stage manager. The set design is by Kai Harris, with lighting design – essential to this production – by Aaron Burns.

Regarded as one of the greatest plays of the 20th century – with much to say in the 21st – “Machinal” has performances Thursday through Sunday, March 19-22 at Shelton Auditorium, 1000 W. 42nd St., Indianapolis (southwest corner of Butler University campus).

For information and tickets visit southbanktheatre.org.

BCP comedy one for the books

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By John Lyle Belden

In “The Book Club Play,” a small group who meet regularly to discuss the literature they have all read adds an element of “Big Brother,” a new member or two, and before long the gathering becomes what one describes as “‘Lord of the Flies’ with wine.”

In this comedy by Karen Zacarias, presented by Buck Creek Players, Ana (Amanda McCabe) hosts the club at her home with close friend Will (Jericho Frank), a fellow literary snob, and husband Rob (Jeff Haber), who is there for the snacks. There is also Will’s friend Jen (Alyssa Lay); joining the club helped her recover from a downward spiral. Ana has brought in her new coworker at the newspaper where they work, Lily (Nia Hughes), who can’t help but notice she’s the only non-white person in the room.

Another source of tension: Ana – and the others, in signed releases – agreed to having a camera installed in the living room, recording everything during Book Club evenings. The footage goes to a famous Danish documentarian working on a film about the American phenomenon of these get-togethers. “Act natural,” Ana insists.

After lively discussions on “Moby Dick” and “The Age of Innocence” – the latter book affecting Rob deeply after he actually reads it – Lily shakes things up by selecting “Twilight.” This leads to the unexpected addition of Alex (Grant Bowen), a professor of literature seeking to understand the appeal – and unexpected merit – of popular fiction.

Between club meetings, we get brief scenes of various people apparently interviewed for the documentary, entertainingly portrayed by Connie Salvini-Thompson. (Note: One involves the smoking of an herbal cigarette near the front of the stage.)

It could be said that reading can change your life – but these readers aren’t prepared for what’s coming. This is especially true of Ana, the kind of person who feels things need to be perfect, as she sees it, and thrives on being in control. McCabe wonderfully portrays these borderline narcissistic tendencies, letting the comedy flow naturally from the contrast between her expectations and how things turn out. She seethes, but swallows her rage as she tries in vain not to look neurotic for the camera.

For the others, surprises start to alter their perspectives. A meeting on “The DaVinci Code” brings out secrets not on the pages. Then, an attempted discussion of a “Tarzan” book goes completely wild.

In the last chapters they read together, all is revealed.

In their performances, the cast show how the usual motivations for these clubs, equal parts fellowship and meaningful conversations with the book as a catalyst, get warped by the fact that there is an unblinking “audience.” Hughes’ Lily doesn’t mean to be provocative, yet stating the obvious seems to brush against unwritten rules. Contrast this with Bowen’s Alex, who, as an academic, welcomes and encourages debate.  Frank’s Will constantly flips between confident and unsure – and if he trips your gaydar, we all see it, too (well, not everyone). Lay as Jen gently finds necessary growth of character throughout. As for Rob, Haber’s portrayal of this go-along/get-along personality shows him finding he has lost track of what he really wants and needs.

Meanwhile, Salvini-Thompson’s character work adds wonderful comic touches – starting in full Capote mode, then a stiff Secret Service agent, down-home Wal-Mart associate, prison “dealer,” and a feisty retired librarian (with the final punchline at the end of the curtain call).

It’s all well-crafted by Josh Rooks in his directing debut, adding to past onstage experience in bringing the funny. He is assisted by producer and fellow BCP mainstay Ben Jones.

“The Book Club Play” is uproariously funny, and it might even give you a fresh perspective on books and reading – note its pitfalls if you wish to start a club of your own! Performances are Friday through Sunday, June 13-15 at the Buck Creek Playhouse, 11150 Southeastern Ave. (Acton Road exit off I-74), Indianapolis. Get tickets at buckcreekplayers.com.

Footlite: ‘Change’ shines

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By John Lyle Belden

When you are the singular housekeeper working in the basement of a modest home, it can feel like your only friends are the new washer and dryer. The swish-swish of the laundry sings to you, a rhythm matched by the Motown backup singers on the radio.

This is the world of Caroline Thibodeaux in “Caroline, or Change,” presented by Footlite Musicals, directed by Bradley Alan Lowe. It is the Indiana premiere of this 2003 Broadway musical by Tony Kushner, with music by Jeanine Tesori, based on Kushner’s own childhood.

Caroline (Damaris Burgin), a Black single mother in Lake Charles, La., in 1963, is fortunate to have a job working for the Gellman family even though they can’t pay much. Their young son, Noah (Asher Ortman) has taken a liking to her, but mostly her companions are Washing Machine (Anya Andrews), Dryer (Markell Pipkins), and The Radio (Jada Radford, Nia Hughes and Vivian Husband). We also meet personifications of the Bus (Samuel McKanney) that brings her to this neighborhood and the Moon (Angela Manlove) that shines up above. But this is not “Beauty and the Beast” – the feeling is closer to “Driving Miss Daisy” but as a musical is almost entirely sung-through. Consider it like an opera for the domestic servant, with music that includes Gospel, R&B, and Jewish Klezmer refrains.

Noah has his own difficulties, as his mother died and his musician father Stuart (Phil Criswell) is remarried, to close family friend Rose (Emily Mae Gaddy), of which the boy does not approve. Also on hand are his Gellman grandparents (Dan Flahive and Gisele Dollinger).

Caroline rides the homeward bus with fellow domestic Dotty (Zarah Shejule). She shares her small home with daughters Emmie (Kaylee Johnson-Bradley), Jackie (Cairo Graves), and Jo (Praia Graves) – her son is with the Army in Vietnam.

Rose notices that, being a typically careless boy, Noah keeps leaving pocket change in his pants when they go into the laundry. She decides to teach him a lesson by announcing that whatever Caroline finds, she gets to keep. However, the boy then makes a point of leaving nickels, dimes, and quarters to see what happens. As for Caroline, the arrangement doesn’t feel right, but this small “raise” is making a big difference for her girls.

National events are naturally at the edge of this story. They are in a relatively quiet Southern city, but still hear news of JFK as well as the Civil Rights struggle elsewhere – also, the statue of a Confederate “hero” in the center of town has disappeared.

Things get more interesting with the Hannukah visit of Rose’s father. Mr. Stopnick (Graham Brinklow) is a liberal New Yorker who feels for what “Negroes” are going through, but wishes they would take a different approach than that of Martin Luther King Jr.

Performances are wonderful all around. Burgin is endearing yet tough as the title character. The limits of her pride are often tested as dealing with “change,” in any form, makes her stronger. Johnson-Bradley is fierce as Emmie, an impetuous youth finding her voice and place in the world she’s growing into. Ortman’s Noah is a likable kid who makes mistakes but means well, though he learns that not everything you say can be taken back.

The most complex role, next to Caroline, turns out to be Rose. Gaddy plays her as someone who realizes she is the “evil stepmother” in this tale and defies that by showing she does care in her own way. At first homesick for New York, she dedicates herself to the household and family she has chosen, including the boy she hopes one day with love her, and the proud Black woman she tries to understand.

Discover this unconventional look at some interesting people (and appliances). “Caroline, or Change” plays through March 16 at 1847 N. Alabama St., downtown Indianapolis. Get tickets at footlite.org.