play

Enter the shadowy world of ‘M’

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By John Lyle Belden

Never a company to shy away from dark material, Catalyst Repertory presents “M,” a new play based on an old movie, written and directed by Tristan Ross. The original, by legendary German film pioneer Fritz Lang in 1931, was a predecessor to the genre of film noir. Being Lang’s first picture with sound, he innovated with it in ways that still inspire today’s filmmakers.

Ross captures the feeling of entrapment in a black-and-white world with the audience on three sides of the black-box Everwise Stage (formerly Indy Eleven) surrounded by heavy dark curtains. Entering and exiting this space feels like a labyrinth. Actors’ costumes are in blacks, greys and browns, with among a spare few props bright red balloons for effective contrast.

Voices literally surround us with some lines delivered by obscured actors behind the curtains or prerecorded. Little girls are puppets (provided by Beverly Roche) with vague innocent faces, ethereally voiced offstage by Kristin Watson Heintz. Technical director Arden Tiede and lighting designer Tim Dick assist with the noir effects, including fog and image projections, with graphic assistance by Catalyst founder Casey Ross.

As in the original story, by Lang with Thea von Harbou, there is a serial killer, known as “the Midnight Man,” attacking young girls. Ten have been brutally murdered when Mrs. Beckmann (Maria Meschi) discovers her Elsie is missing. Among the last to encounter the child alive was a friendly blind man (Craig Kemp) who we discover is a homeless former lawyer who manages through barter to get balloons to sell to neighborhood children. Police Chief Lohman (James Mannan) and Detective Grodin (Kirk Fields) find an unseeing “witness” only the beginning of their frustrations, as practically no clues are found and suspect leads go nowhere.

Meanwhile, the criminal community has grown frustrated with massively increased police activity and a fearful population cutting deeply into their “business.” Plus, even hardened criminals have no patience with child murder. Thus, one of their leaders, Breaker (Tristan Ross) leads an underworld search for the Midnight Man, with the help of thief Frank (Jeff Stratfer) and club/brothel owner Sharp (Austin Hookfin), with the Balloon Vendor working the “invisible” street people.

Another genre-inspiring aspect of this story is that the audience sees the perpetrator early on, one of the early plots about a killer’s descending madness and the other characters’ struggle to find and stop him. Normal-looking John Beckert (J. Charles Weimer) is locked in a cycle of obsession and predation. He acts quickly once a random potential victim is sighted, this being both a sign of dangerous impulsivity and part of what makes him impossible to predict.

However, eventually good detective work, and a vital clue realized by the balloon man, lead cops and crooks each to close in on Beckert. Which will get to him first, and what will “justice” be when they do?

The story is appropriately taut, tense and not as predictable as you would think, even as events feel inevitable. The acting is outstanding. Meschi, a mother herself, compellingly communicates the horror and desperation of Beckmann’s grief and need for answers and resolution. Kemp easily portrays his blindness without any broad gestures, his eyes looking nowhere as he “sees” with his hearing and speaks with clear voice to ensure understanding. Fields seems to toy with stereotype, at first an ineffective cop but proving his worth as Grodin realizes the right details to give his attention. Mannan gives us the Chief who is both police and bureaucrat, under frustrating pressure on both sides. Our underworld trio effectively play close to type – Stratfer’s Frank jittery nervous, Hookfin’s Sharp ever suave, and Ross’s Breaker deeply intimidating. (In the movie, the latter’s character is a safecracker, here he seems to be an enforcer; either way, his leather gloves are apropos.)

For his part, Weimer gives us an emotionally driven performance that gives insight into Beckert’s disordered mind and personal horror. This “monster” is given neither justification nor supernatural menace; as is noted during the search, he is “a man, like one of us.”

Consider the title to stand for Midnight Man, or “Murderer” as Lang did, or even the Roman numeral as the killer states “there will be a thousand more” if he is not caught. Regardless, find Catalyst’s “M,” with performances through July 7 at the IndyFringe Theatre, 719 E. St. Clair St., Indianapolis. Get tickets at indyfringe.org.

Hyperion hosts good zombie play

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By John Lyle Belden

Local performer Brad Staggs said he took it as a challenge when several years ago his wife said, “There’s no such thing as a good play about zombies.” While the silver screen has stories of these undead of varying quality, and television the acclaimed “Walking Dead” (based on a brilliant comic book), this actually was in the realm of possibility.

In “I Love My Zombie,” which Staggs wrote, directed, and took a role in on June 6-9 at Theater at the Fort in Lawrence, he manages not only an entertaining zombie-centered comic drama, but also a tribute to the golden age of television and thinly-disguised tribute to the bold character of the legendary Lucille Ball.

In the Hyperion Players production, Becky Schlomann plays this parallel-America’s TV star June Burns, who, like Ball in our world, runs the production company that makes the number-one 1950s sitcom, “I Love My Wife,” starring her and her husband, Jimmy Teague (Ron May), who happens to be a zombie.

In the last days of World War II, the Nazis released an experimental gas as they retreated, which the Allied soldiers and civilian aid workers did not feel the effects of for a few years. In varying states of decay, yet fully active, the turned zombies, recognizable by sickly colored skin, were designated Stage One, like Jimmy, physically and mentally intact; Stage Two, like comic Sy Greenblaum (Jerry Robbins), losing body parts that can be simply reattached to regain function; Stage Three, largely mute and slow of mind but physically strong; and Stage Four, the kind you really don’t want to meet.

Carl Cooper (Robert Fimreite), another Stage One, is president of the Zombie Actors Union, which looks out for performers like Jimmy, as well as the Stage Three stagehands (Lauren Lotzow and Natalie George). June and Jimmy’s human costar Madeline Blonstein (Veronique Duprey) has grown weary of working with the undead; she commiserates with production assistant Michael Eastman (Brynn Lee), who is influenced by the letters published in the paper attributed to the mysterious “Mr. Kaplan,” who calls all zombies a dangerous menace that should be removed from regular human society.

Meanwhile, Gary (David Muller), the Director of “I Love My Wife,” apparently lives in his production booth and we only hear his voice.

This story is narrated to us by LAPD Detective Sam Cutty (Staggs), who tells it during a 1972 police seminar, with the help of his groovy young niece Tammy (Sydney Adams). Cutty was there in 1952 when he was called in to investigate a murder involving the aforementioned characters, leading to a bigger and more sinister plot.

I won’t spoil this, because hopefully this play will return at a later date. Staggs crafted an interesting mystery with lots of fun comic elements, featuring creatures who are not necessarily the bad guys, and not nearly as “mindless” as the attitudes of certain humans. The moral codes of the 1950s add to the atmosphere of discrimination as America deals with another easily misunderstood minority. June takes a stand as a voice for decency, rallying our sympathies as well as her castmates.

Sydney Jackson was assistant director. Beth Fike designed the sets. Ash Dykstra did the un-lifelike makeup.

From our perspective, we say “mission accomplished” for Staggs – a good zombie play with good zombies. This also shows Hyperion further establishing itself as another quality local theatre company. It starts its next season in September with “An Inspector Calls” by J.B. Priestley, directed by Nicole Amsler. See HyperionPlayers.com for details.

Desperate straits of addiction in ALT drama

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By John Lyle Belden

American Lives Theatre concludes its 2023-24 season as bold as ever with the drama “Spay” by Madison Fiedler, directed by Jen Johansen.

The setting is a recent September in Williamson, West Virginia (an actual town, hidden away on the Kentucky border). Noah (Jaddy Ciucci) has returned from the hospital, where she had been recovering from a very public heroin overdose, to the home of her half-sister Harper (Shawntè Gaston), who has custody of her pre-kindergarten son Benny (offstage).

The pains of withdrawal and pangs of addiction still rage in Noah, but she insists this time she can stay clean – as she had been for nine months prior to the recent incident. Harper, a no-nonsense kindergarten teacher, insists on assurances that this time will be different. Noah will live there, and in turn she pledges to break up with her boyfriend (and dealer) Jackson (Matt Kraft).  We soon see how thin her resolve is on that point.

As the days start to cautiously pass without a relapse, a stranger comes to Harper’s door while Noah is at work. Aubrey (Julie Dixon) has come from a city hours away to offer help in the name of an organization that specializes in aiding young women with addiction. Harper is naturally slow to trust, but Aubrey confides that she had lost her own daughter to addiction and brings up a lot of valid points and advice, forcing Harper to seriously consider more aspects of her situation.

However, this voice of reason also comes with a choice that seems unreasonable – at least, at first.

It has become widely known the alarming degree to which opioid addiction has ravaged the coal country of Kentucky and West Virginia (part of a nationwide epidemic). This fact, plus an excellent stage set (designed by Zac Hunter) with running water and comfy furniture, aid excellent performances to help the audience, seated on three sides around the Phoenix Basile stage, feel right there with these characters.

Ciucci employs her whole body in a convincing portrayal of near-constant physical and mental pain. Her manner of speech and expression, a variety of moods as damaged and disordered synapses keep her on a perilous edge of self-control, are convincing, while generating a surprising amount of situational dark humor. In her deceptively calm moments, there is the sense they will not last.

“This is a survival town.” That line by Harper sums up the feeling of a desperate need for stability and control that Gaston ably portrays. She has deep affection for her sister but finds herself forced into constantly employing it as tough love. And she is readily a fierce defender of Benny.

Kraft plays Jackson as a charming, means-well, naïve redneck. He seems to care for Noah, but a close listen to his words shows signs of narcissistic control, wanting her as both the girl addicted to him and the loving woman he wants to marry, seemingly blind to the contradiction. His often-infuriating presence adds to the humor.

Dixon plays Aubrey as a gently-revealed enigma, leaving it to us to resolve if she is more savior or bargaining devil. According to ALT artistic director Chris Saunders, organizations such as the one she represents do exist.

Given her long-time presence on numerous stages, it is surprising that this is Johansen’s directorial debut. She has brought her experience with the actors’ perspective to bear to bring out the best in this talented ensemble.

Also notable is the musical soundscape by Todd Mack, with its haunting Appalachian tones.

The play ends on a fraught note, with a decision made but the consequences yet to be seen. This would be infuriating in a movie (begging a sequel) but on the stage a common device to open dialogue about what was just seen and our feelings about it. Still, it was a bit of a stun, the cautious applause when the lights came up snapping us out of a trance, delivering us swiftly back from two states away. Still, those issues, we realize, are here in Indiana as well.

A stunning, engrossing look at a widespread problem brought home to the individuals mired in its depths, “Spay” runs through June 30 at the Phoenix Theatre Cultural Center, 705 N. Illinois St., Indianapolis. Get tickets at phoenixtheatre.org, information (including ALT’s coming 2024-25 season) at americanlivestheatre.org.

Diving into Div(X)Fest

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By John Lyle Belden

How does one describe the ongoing process by which a stage production comes to be? It’s a bit crude to say “how the sausage is made,” as that is just too messy an image to place on creating art. On the other hand, saying its “how the magic is made” – aside from likely being trademarked by Disney – glosses over just how productively messy the journey can be. Writers like myself (and Wendy) use these terms to impress on the reader and likely patron that this work is not finished, but still worth a look which lends an insight into the labor of love (emphasis on both) plays, musicals, et al, truly are.

So, I’ll just say that IndyFringe’s annual Div(X)Fest (formerly Diva Fest) is our witness to the base materials our creators spin into theatre gold. (I think that works.) This year’s edition, again celebrating the talents of women (as well as trans and non-binary folx), features readings of three new works. One day remains, Sunday, June 9, starting at 2:30 p.m. in the IndyFringe theatre, 719 E. St. Clair St., downtown Indianapolis. Tickets are pay-what-you-can. Info at indyfringe.org.

Reviewing in reverse order of presentation, these plays are:

“The Sleepover,” I mention first because it is the closest to completion, planning its world premiere at the 2024 IndyFringe Festival in August. It is a unique collaboration begun earlier this year among five women who also perform in this “coming of age dramedy.”

Christine Gordon (as Alexis), Emily Worrel (Rowan), Natalie Fischer (Jessica), Samantha Hines (Chloe), and Wilhelmena Dreyer (Sydney) are 14-ish girls gathering for their annual (for all but Rowan, who is new to town) end of school year sleepover at Alexis’ house. There is a sense of transition, mainly signaled by moving on to high school in the fall, which has the hostess especially meticulous in her planning.

There is tension among them practically from the start, especially after Sydney finally arrives and they engage in their traditional game of Truth of Dare, “Kessler Road Rules.” Along the way we find hidden secrets, insights into true feelings, and hints of the presence of a monster they thought they had only made up – all magnified through the everything’s-extreme perspective of adolescence.

As others noted at one performance, although all five women contributed to the creation and writing of this play – from exploratory conversations and exchanging basic ideas to fleshing out characters. their relationships, and what they say and do – the pieces have melded together in what feels like a single narrative voice. They admit it did feel a bit like they were school friends who shared a deep bond in this process.

This should generate a lot of buzz going into this year’s Fringe, and we can’t wait to see how their creepy cryptid actually comes to life.

“The Silent Supper” by Kaitlynn McShea is a work of subtle horror in which an older woman sits by a ruined table, struggling to remember what happened before “the fire came.” In this reading, directed by Christine Gordon, Wendy Brown portrays the woman, exhausted by nightmares as every sweet memory “never goes right,” as well as the growing buzz of insects. Each remembrance is enacted by a foursome of local actors (I don’t have names at the moment; may fill in if I get them later) who give us some insight into their lives – presuming the one remembering is a reliable narrator. This short work does well in building suspense, reminiscent of Stephen King at his best. It gives Brown a good role to work with, portraying a troubled soul who pulls on our empathy.

“On the Rag Dolls” by Allison Fradkin starts the day’s entertainment, directed by Mira Cassidy, as a trio of young women (again, names unavailable) play three edge-of-puberty besties on their own “Casual Friday” sleepover. However, this scene is a satirical comedy with entendres and puns coming at you with the pace of a hit sitcom, expressed by girls who barely, if at all, get the subtexts (still, you know tweens talk like that). The trio are apparently all in the same hardcore Evangelical Protestant community, though only one goes to the Christian Academy rather than public school, so talk of the future is of boys they will marry and the children they will have (though sex is gross), as well as if their just-started periods are “the curse” or a blessing. – “Men-ses the day!” one girl resolves. – This work in progress is hilarious and shows lots of potential; after-show talkbacks allow us to give Fradkin ideas on where to take this story (as with McShea above).

We extend a big thanks to IndyFringe for hosting this event and their continued engagement in the development of local talent and new works.

Westfield takes on beloved comedy

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By John Lyle Belden

As it’s been said, classics are classic for a reason. From time to time, community theatres bring out the hilarious antics of the eccentric extended Sycamore family in Moss Hart and George S. Kaufman’s comedy, “You Can’t Take It With You.” This week, the invitation is extended by Main Street Productions of Westfield.

Sweet twenty-year-old Alice Sycamore (Hannah Partridge) is in love with her boss, Anthony Kirby (Aaron Budde), a young executive thanks to his chief executive father (David Dessauer). Tony and Alice want to get married, but she’s afraid the Kirbys couldn’t deal with her family – father Paul Sycamore (James Semmelroth Darnell) makes fireworks in the basement with the help of Mr. DePinna (Eric Bowman), who came to deliver ice years ago and never left; mother Penny Sycamore (Carrie Reiberg) writes melodramatic unfinished plays on a typewriter that just showed up on their doorstep; sister Essie (Cara Olson) makes candy “Love Dreams” daily but really wants to dance (though she’s awful at it), while her husband Ed Carmichael (Noah Shepard) plays the xylophone and obsessively prints cards, menus, and papers with whatever sounds interesting to him; finally, grandfather Martin Vanderhof (John Welch) does whatever he likes because he walked away from his downtown office decades ago and never looked back.

Their maid Rheba (Sophie Liese) is a so-so cook but very understanding and fits right in this household, along with her Irish boyfriend Donald (Austin Uebelhor), who helps when he can, as long as it doesn’t jeopardize his “relief” payments. Russian expat Boris Kolenkhov (Louis Cavallari) tries in vain to teach Essie ballet; this being 1938, he still remembers his homeland before the Soviets and knows exiled nobility including The Grand Duchess Olga Katrina (Miki Mathioudakis). We also meet inebriated actress Gay Wellington (Susan Hill), who isn’t related or a resident, yet adds to the chaos in her own way.

There are also appearances by Tony’s father and mother (Renee Whiten Lopez), as well as Tom Smith as nosy government agents, along with Aaron Ploof and Emma Fox.

For those unfamiliar, yes, it’s a lot. But there is subtle method to this madness in a funny fable about love, acceptance, and truly living out the pursuit of happiness.

Under director Nicole Amsler, everyone gets their moments to shine. Darnell plays Paul as single-minded, trusting the others to do what’s needed, yet amiable when not downstairs. Bowman gives DePinna a sense of joy that reveals a man who would much rather play with fire than work with ice. Reiberg’s Penny is the kind of unassuming person whom whatever she is doing at the moment is right thing, and you can’t help but agree. Shepard and Olson as Ed and Essie seem to not be the sharpest knives in the block, yet come across as charmingly naïve, never stupid. Cavallari brings big energy to his role, making Kolenkhov feel like just one of the family.

Partridge nimbly plays Alice’s struggle to maintain normalcy while still loving her family. Budde, for his part, gives Tony a growing admiration for the freedom that the household represents.

As the patriarch, Welch lends a subtle gravitas to Grandpa. He has his quirks – like keeping snakes – but is as down-to-earth a character one could find. When he says grace in his unique way during the mealtime scenes, you can’t help but feel welcome at his table.

Be their guest this Thursday through Sunday, June 6-9, at the Basile Westfield Playhouse, 220 N. Union St. Get tickets at westfieldplayhouse.org.

Hear and feel the ‘Voices of the Avenue’

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By John Lyle Belden

From Emancipation in the 1860s to well into the 20th century, Black populations brought together by community and herded by racist policies gathered in neighborhoods across America that managed – despite contrary forces – to flourish, at least for a time. In Indianapolis, that legacy is Indiana Avenue.

That street, and its jazz-infused culture, is celebrated at the District Theatre on Massachusetts Ave. in the world premiere musical, “Voices of the Avenue,” a stunning, inspiring story by new playwright Brandi L. Metzger.

Set at an actual popular Indiana Ave. nightspot, the Sunset Terrace, this is the story of sisters Constance (Jodi Holmes), a writer for the Indianapolis Recorder (still a voice for Black issues today), and Pearl (Komoca Rowley), a singer and regular at the Sunset. On the night of club owner Denver’s (Jay Fuqua) 50th birthday celebration, Connie arrives hoping to persuade Pearl to join her in leaving for New York to seek bigger opportunities. The joint is jumping, thanks in part to performer Burnin’ Bernie (Keiston Drake). Also present is a mysterious white man, calling himself Apollo (Clay Mabbitt), who keeps writing something in his notebook.

This is also a story of a time and a place at a cultural and historical crossroads few on the Avenue saw coming. As Denver reminisces, despite troubles through the 1920s and ‘30s, the Black communities rallied and “Indy’s Harlem” persevered. But it is 1945; soon, thousands of men – mostly white – will be returning from the War and the age of “redevelopment” and suburban boom will begin. This Apollo represents succinctly. An advance scout and embodiment of the coming change, he presents himself as an amateur hypnotist who can freeze the moment to let us in our own era beyond the fourth wall know what forces are at play and the justifications they will use to act.

The brighter side of the Avenue, full of life and brave joy, is personified by the music of the outstanding on-stage ensemble, led by Matt “BigBeatz” Franklin at the keyboard, with jazz pianist Carl Hines, Jef Payne on trumpet, and Byron L.A. Hobbs on drums. Stephen Martin Drain and Nakia B. White tend the bar and provide backup vocals. Club patrons are played by Heather Strain, Teresa Francis and DaJuan Thrasher.

This production is in the able hands of veteran director Nikki Miles, assisted by Angela Leonard. Justin M. Lewis provides cool choreography appropriate to the times, and even gets Mabbitt to cut a rug.

The songs are all original, by Metzger in collaboration with Franklin and the actors who perform them. They perfectly capture and move the plot, and a rousing salute to “The Sunset” is fun to sing along to – which we’re encouraged to do at the end.

Holmes and Rowley give great performances with voices sharp whether in song or snapping at each other as siblings do. We can feel their relational struggles as well as the growing shadow of the bigger story they are in. Fuqua plays Denver as all charm and blind optimism, perhaps not an angel, but a vital part of the Avenue. Drake gives Bernie the driven attitude of the talented up-and-comer not wanting to consider there might not be a place to get to.

The only disappointment is that this intense experience clocks in at just under an hour. Still, a lot of story and history is packed in. It never feels rushed, like great jazz; I just wasn’t ready for it to end. It’s one thing to learn by reading, lecture, or even documentary, about the spirit of Indiana Avenue, but “Voices of the Avenue” gets you to truly feel it.

This work was brought about by Black Light Training and Development, a grantee of the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation. Metzger is a recent graduate of its playwriting course. Find more information at the program’s Facebook page.

Remaining performances of “Voices” are today (as we post this) and tomorrow, Saturday and Sunday, June 1-2, at the District Theatre, 627 Mass. Ave., Indianapolis. Get tickets at indydistrictthteatre.org.

Glimpses of comics’ lives in ‘Purple Lounge’

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By John Lyle Belden

In case there is any confusion, note that “Live at the Purple Lounge” has nothing to do with Prince. Another clarification: “Green Room” is just the traditional name for the place performers can relax before and after going on stage; it can be any color.

This said, welcome to the Purple Lounge comedy club, presented by Betty Rage Productions at the IndyFringe Basile Theatre. Seating includes cozy little tables, where crew member/bouncer, Chelsea (Kelsey VanVoorst), the New Comic, greets us. She doesn’t enforce a drink minimum but advises there are plenty of adult and alcohol-free beverages available for purchase at the back of the room.

However, what we see before us is not the classic stand-up stage backed with faux brick, but the backstage Green Room, tended by club manager Bethany (Meg McLane). Over the course of a few nights, we hear the last bits of a comic’s set, then see what happens in this room after.

Rory (Brooke Neubaum) closes with laments about her dating life, then comes into the room to find her mother Victoria (Jean Arnold) – a successful sex-positive writer – waiting with a rather stress-inducing surprise.

Sydney (Tracy Herring) slays in her set, then comes backstage to husband John (Chad Pirowski) with news that she can book a West Coast tour – a small miracle for a lesser-known 50-year-old comic. He doesn’t quite share her happiness.

Lena (Anna Himes), on the other hand, bombs – and it’s not the first time. Sure enough, old friend Travis (Dave Pelsue) is there to remind her that it’s been a year now. There’s a way to get herself funny again, he promises.

Anna (Rachel Kelso) makes her set about how sadly vanilla her girlfriend is. Meanwhile, in the Green Room, said partner Logan (Laurel Clark) is on her phone with customer service about a defective sex toy.

Abbie (Jenni White), one of the club regulars, is a hit again. Backstage with Bethany, a long-time friend, she is forced to confide an issue that not even her “husband Bill” can help with.

Being a stand-up comic is a funny life – both “funny ha-ha” and funny/unusual – and we get plenty of both in these scenes. The unique lifestyle and stresses of the job are explored in various ways, as well as the toll they can take on those who love them. Some of the biggest laughs, such as the moments with Rory and Victoria, or Anna and Logan, come with their share of tears. In this backstage sanctuary you’re as likely to find a metaphorical punch in the gut as a gut-busting punchline.

Performances are top-notch, especially McLane, who we usually see in absurd comedy shows, getting to exercise her dramatic range to great effect. Himes and White also hit us directly in the feels in their scenes.

Directed by Betty Rage founder Callie Burk-Hartz, “Live at the Purple Lounge” has just four more performances, 7:30 p.m. Thursday and Friday, 3 p.m. and 7:30 p.m. Saturday (May 23-25), at 719 E. St. Clair, Indianapolis. Get info at bettyrageproductions.com and tickets at indyfringe.org.

Waves of laughter at Cryptid’s ‘Beach Party’

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By John Lyle Belden

Let’s take a beachin’ trip back to 1962, as weirdly envisioned in 1987, then done for film in 2000 with actors you may know but the same dude doing the script, for further irreverent treatment by Indy’s Cryptid Entertainment today in “Psycho Beach Party,” directed by Kevin Holladay.

Did you know that Oscar-winning actress Sally Field famously played both beach-chick Gidget and, in a different film, the multiple-personality sufferer Sybil? Not sure why I brought that up…

Anyway, the Off-Broadway hit by Charles Busch sends up the ‘60s Beach films with inspiration from Hitchcock-style horror. Note to the triggered, especially as it is Mental Health Awareness Month, but this also hearkens back to not-that-long-ago when being a total whacko was fair game for comedy. This doesn’t so much mock Dissociative Identity Disorder (which is real, but rare, and caused by deep trauma) so much as the way such conditions were exaggerated for dramatic and comic effect.

In our mythical Malibu, The Great Kanaka (Thomas Sebald) rules the waves, accompanied by college dropout – Psych, of course – Starcat (Suraj Choudhary). Chicklet (Ellie Graves) a girl with small boobs and big dreams, provided she can stay free of her overbearing mother (Andrea Haskett), wants to learn to surf, even if it is a man’s world. Bikini hottie Marvel Ann (Hannah Embree) has her eyes on one of those men, and Chicklet’s bestie Berdine (Ezri Braid-Grizell) has her mind occupied by the great (non-surfing) philosophers. Other surfer dudes are Provoloney (Case Jacobus), Yo-yo (Katie Endres), and Nicky (Kelly Haas).

An incognito movie star, Bettina Barnes (Jessica Hawkins), shows up hoping to get away from the world of schlock films. Meanwhile, Kanaka accidentally discovers that sometimes Chicklet really isn’t herself – and alter ego Ann Bowman (!) kinda turns him on.

Also, there have been bizarre shaving attacks.

Considering that Busch played Chicklet in the original New York production, don’t be surprised that things here get a bit gender-fluid and queer. It just adds to the fun.

The cast all ride the waves of absurdity for all they’re worth. Graves shows entertaining range and talent, so that she could also move on to more dramatic roles (y’know, like Sally Field did). Sebald looks like Indy’s version of Jason Mamoa with all the same fun energy and cool charisma. Choudhary (who was cool with me saying he looks like if Jesus were drawn correctly) charms as well. Embree is cutely committed to her high-class persona. Hawkins has no problem hanging with these characters, taking to being rightly feted like a queen with her court.

What is the secret of Chicklet’s troubled past? Will Provoloney and Yo-Yo admit their feelings? Can I get an invite to the Luau? (The answer to the last one is no, but they did give me a beach ball.)

See the Cryptids without the time restraints of a Fringe show, Thursday through Sunday (two shows on Saturday), May 16-19, at Fonseca Theatre, 2805 W. Michigan St., Indianapolis. Find Cryptid Entertainment on Facebook for info and tickets or try this link.

Gritty ‘Streetcar’ an immersive ride

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By John Lyle Belden

A relative newcomer to the Hoosier theatre scene, Eclipse Productions of Bloomington (no relation to the student company in Indy) presents its take on Tennessee Williams’s “A Streetcar Named Desire.” One of the founders, Konnor Graber, told us Eclipse’s shows “are going darker, grittier, and authentic.” This stage classic turned out to be the perfect vehicle, steered by director Kate Weber (another founder, along with Ashley Prather and Jeremy J. Weber).

Perhaps coincidentally running during Mental Health Awareness Month, the production focuses on the growing madness of Miss Blanche DuBois, an aging Southern Belle who lost both her family and their former plantation, Belle Reve, in Mississippi, and goes to her only living relative, sister Stella Kowalski, in a cozy working-class apartment in New Orleans’ French Quarter.

Actually, we meet Blanche (Dania Leova) before the play officially starts, as the lobby has transformed to the vistors’ parlor of a Louisiana mental hospital, not long after the unfortunate woman’s committal in 1947. She is quiet and literally restrained in her chair, while a nurse (Connie Shakalis) reads poems by Poe to keep her calm. We are entertained by a visiting singer (Jen Wells, who is also stage manager) accompanied by Noel Patrick Koontz on guitar.

The theatre doors open, and Blanche is wheeled in before we are allowed to enter and take our seats. Wells follows, her voice lilting “Dream a Little Dream” as she climbs through the audience. For a moment, Blanche is at the corner of the stage, perhaps wondering, how did it all come to this? A quick blackout, and we all proceed to find out.

Leova is exquisite as Blanche, charm laid on as thick as the region’s humidity. She has us believing her despite ourselves, never relenting as the center of attention, though we see her trustworthiness slowly erode. Graber is powerful as Stella’s husband, Stanley. Little effort is made to make the man likable, though he has a personal magnetism that keeps his friends and wife loyal. His is another study in untreated mental issues, a lifetime of class resentment and being called “pollack,” capped by service in World War II, leaving him with a constant undercurrent of rage, only abated when transformed into lustful attention to Stella (Shayna Survil), who is addicted to him like a drug. He practically snarls his lines, at or edging on a shout; every object he handles gets slammed somewhere; and sensing a fellow façade, he sees through Blanche from the start and never lets her forget it. Survil, for her part, is endearing as she struggles to stay the voice of reason, the mediator between her unstable housemates. Alas, she also has what would now be classed a trauma bond with her often abusive husband.

Shakalis and Benjamin Loudermilk are charming in their own way as neighbor/landlords Eunice and Steve Hubbell, in their stormy but loving relationship. Playing Stanley and Steve’s bowling and poker buddies are Koontz as Pablo and Jeremy Weber as Mitch, a single man living with his ailing mother, who takes a fancy to Blanche – a relationship she proceeds to toy with and exploit. Weber ably portrays both Mitch’s infatuation and his solid sense of honor.

The performance is accentuated by the growing intervention of Blanche’s intrusive mental static, music, and other noise provided by sound designer Joshua Lane. Kate Weber credits the combined efforts of her direction, Lane’s soundscape and lighting by Allie Mattox for the overall effect. We all become witness to Blanche’s ever-worsening state, snapped by a rash act that, with her at last speaking truth, no one believes – or wants to.

Bearing in mind appropriate trigger warnings, come aboard the “Streetcar” this Thursday through Sunday, May 16-19, at the Ted Jones Playhouse, 107 W. 9th St., Bloomington. Get info and tickets at eclipseproductionscompany.com.

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.