play

Civic adds suspense with ‘Wait Until Dark’

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By John Lyle Belden

“Wait Until Dark,” the suspense stage drama by Frederick Knott, relies on a belief many consider a myth, or exaggerated at best: That the blind have heightened senses to compensate for lack of sight. In the play’s adaptation by Jeffrey Hatcher, presented this month by the Booth Tarkington Civic Theatre, this becomes true for Susan as she is constantly trained, both by herself and near-bullying by her husband, to be hyper-aware of her surroundings, so as to become more self-sufficient.

Rather than consider this a superhero adventure like a Daredevil comic or Netflix episode, the theme here (and lesson, if you want to draw one) is attention to detail. For Susan (played by Carly Masterson) the importance eventually becomes life-and-death, but in everyday terms it helps her avoid a stubbed toe on the furniture and to keep track of what switches are on and off. Such attention to detail is vital to our villain, Roat (Jay Hemphill), as well. He always wears gloves, has a thought-out plan, and is quick to adapt when a doll of unusual value reaches the wrong destination. Let the game of wits begin.

In Greenwich Village in 1944 (set earlier than previous stage/film versions), Carlino (Parrish Williams), a dirty ex-cop who still carries his badge, takes a quick look around a basement apartment. He is joined by Roat, who discuss the fact that their female partner had the doll on a train and hid it in the bag of the man who lives in the apartment. But when she went to get it back from him (with an innocent-sounding story), she said they couldn’t find it. Roat finds this unacceptable, as evidenced by the woman’s body hanging in the closet. But before these two can carry the corpse out, the man’s blind wife, Susan, comes home. During the intense minutes before she leaves again, the men stay perfectly still. She senses them, but assumes it is Gloria (Mary Kate Tanselle), the girl who lives upstairs whom she hires to help around the apartment, playing another nasty prank.

Susan’s husband Sam (Colby Rison) ironically makes a living with his keen eyes, as a photographer. Serving with the Marines in the War in Italy, what he saw through his camera broke him mentally. While in the hospital, he met Susan (recovering from the accident that blinded her) who suggested he recover by taking pictures of babies and brides – which is now his living.

Roat and Carlino book fake appointments to take Sam a distance away, while they work to con Susan out of the location of the doll. Complicating events is a surprise visit by Mike (Lukas Robinson), who says he’s an old Marine buddy of Sam’s. He stays around, sharing Susan’s growing suspicion of the other men’s actions. Suspense builds towards the famous climax in which Susan’s handicap becomes her biggest asset, while Gloria, who came on the scene a total brat, gets her shot at being the heroine.

Even if you’ve seen any version of the show, or know where the doll is (or why it’s special), this production, directed by Emily Rogge Tzucker, will still have you on edge. Masterson gives us a woman who, while vulnerable, is strong and resourceful, and easy to root for. Rison’s Sam comes across a bit mean, but truly loves his wife. Williams is usually reliable for comic relief, and arguably there’s a couple of moments here, but he never loses his sinister edge. Hemphill just oozes evil and the overconfidence that is Roat’s one weakness. Robinson, in his theatrical debut, works his charming character like a pro. Tanselle, as the tween coping with parental strife at home and menial work for her neighbor, plays a nice character arc from irksome to trusted partner. Note that on coming Sunday matinees, Gloria will be played by Izzy Ellis.

An old thriller that still thrills, “Wait Until Dark” plays through March 26 in the intimate confines of the Studio Theater at the Center for the Performing Arts in downtown Carmel. For info and tickets, see civictheatre.org or thecenterpresents.org.

Fonseca: Story of family stuck in ‘Mud’

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By John Lyle Belden

The magic of live theatre is such that more than persons become characters in the drama. A house, for instance, can have a role, or even the concepts of time and culture.

This house on a street in the Mud Row area of West Chester, Penn., has a lot to say, through the people who occupy it. While the means to buy it was less than honorable, it sits firmly in the hands of a pair of sisters at a time when African Americans owning anything was an accomplishment. Each woman takes a different approach to improving their chances of future prosperity – Frances by joining the Civil Rights protests, and Elsie Mae by marrying her unborn child’s father, a member of the “Talented Tenth” – a designation for those meant to uplift fellow Blacks, but here, ironically, a form of elitism.

The daughters of Elsie’s girl, Regine and Toshi, today find themselves with a complex relationship to the old house, as gentrifying developers come around, money in hand, to turn it into a parking lot.

This is life on “Mud Row,” the play by Dominique Morisseau at Fonseca Theatre Company, directed by Josiah McCruiston.

Frances (Lakesha Lorene) and Elsie (Jacquelyn Owens) Jeter are each critical of the other’s intended actions, seeing confronting the police by one, and high society by the other, a fool’s errand — even dangerous. Still, they are family, bound by love and fierce pride. Lorene and Owens also imbue these women with unflagging optimism, foremothers to be honored alongside their ancestors. Their scenes cut in from time to time among modern moments, giving context and fleshing out the “character” of the home.

Regine (Aniqua ShaCole) is no longer a Jeter, having married Devin (Marcus Elliott), and glad to have gotten away from the Mud Row house to live in Philadelphia. However, Grandma Elsie’s Will gave it to her, which she only found out when notified of the cash offer from the developer. Now, the couple has returned, she to resolve difficult memories and he to get an appraisal for a higher price.

Having been abandoned for years, the home is eerily well kept. The reason, at least for the last few months, is a pair of squatters: Toshi (Anila Akua), who abandoned the family years ago for a life of crime and addiction, and her fellow recovering-addict boyfriend Tyriek (Brenton Anderson).

Morisseau’s funny-in-context humor gets quite a few laughs as each couple grouses about “who’s occupying MY house?” as well as the inevitable and mildly violent first encounter.

Akua gives an excellent portrait of a woman struggling with addict-brain, wanting to do good and feel she’s better than the streets, while part of her insists that’s where she belongs. She’s uncomfortable with trust, making her seem even more unreliable. Tyriek, bless his simple soul, has been thug so long he hardly knows any other way to act, though he desperately wants to strive for respectability. Anderson lets us see the flashes of street wisdom and noble eagerness that make him ultimately likable.

ShaCole and Elliott portray Regine as a woman gone bougie, while Devin always had been. Though likely a concept she only heard of in a college history class, she finally managed the family’s Talented Tenth dream, but felt resented by her grandmother for achieving it. Toshi, though, doesn’t remember things the same way.

McCruiston imbues this play with what he calls the spirit of “Sankofa,” a West African word meaning “to retrieve,” in this context to go back to a place and time to recover something important. Fonseca producing director Jordan Flores Schwartz notes she chose this play to begin a 2022 Season of Healing. These characters will need plenty of that.

To further give context to the play, McCruiston set up viewings of “West’s Neighborhood: A Black Woman’s View of the Suburbs” videos by Rachel West, an educator living in the Chicago area. One is shown pre-show, while the second is screened during intermission.  

To paraphrase an unrelated song, will they pave over the past to put up a parking lot? See “Mud Row” through March 20 at 2508 W. Michigan St., Indianapolis; tickets and information at fonsecatheatre.org.

Important ‘Mountaintop’ in the hills of Bloomington

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By Wendy Carson

On April 3, 1968, the night before the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.’s death by assassination, he gave one of his most famous speeches. Known as, “I have been to the Mountaintop”, it encourages people to wonder what would happen to them if they didn’t act in service to others, rather than what would happen to them if they did. 

He speaks of traveling through history and witnessing numerous times of oppressed peoples overcoming their struggles. He reminds us of what we have already been through and how we can continue to overcome poverty and injustice by working together to support one another. 

However, he also speaks about his near-death experience from a knife attack years earlier and how a mere sneeze could have killed him. He references the constant barrage of death threats that he endures each and every day. He acknowledges that he will not always be there to continue the fight for justice and equality. Yet, he assures us that he knows that what he has begun will continue on after he is gone.

This speech, its message, and King’s life are the inspirations for Katori Hall’s play, “The Mountaintop,” presented by Cardinal Stage in Bloomington. 

King (Michael Aaron Pogue) retires to his room at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis to try and get some rest while working on his next speech. He sends a friend to get him some cigarettes to help with this mission. After calling down to the front desk for room service, his coffee is delivered by Camae (AshLee “PsyWrn Simone” Baskin), a beautiful maid on her first night of her new job. She also brings with her the next day’s paper. With the storm raging outside and his reluctance to be alone, the two engage in a spirited discussion of King’s life, the Civil Rights struggle, and the future. 

Hall pulls no punches in portraying King as an honorable but flawed man. Pogue proudly shows us King’s many great achievements while also regretfully acknowledging his indiscretions and moral failings. He also shows us flashes of future inevitability in his panicked reactions to the claps of thunder which, sounding to him like gunshots, rattle King so.

Baskin shows Camae as a mater-of-fact woman who has no time or desire to mince words and always clearly speaks her mind. She manages to keep the character’s expletive-laden rants light yet never denies the meaning and power behind them. She also skillfully keeps Camae sympathetic once we learn the truth of who it is she is actually working for. 

Director Ansley Valentine brings us a story that reminds us not just of the loss of a great leader for change but also that the struggle is not a sprint, but a relay race, and we are all responsible for our part in it. So, take up the baton, and see this show. 

Performances run through March 20 at the Waldron Arts Center, 122 S. Walnut St., Bloomington. Get information and tickets (“pay what you will” pricing) at cardinalstage.org.

Summit’s ‘Crew’ a bold workplace drama

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By John Lyle Belden

You see the signs, and not just the unusual ones on the bulletin board. Management holds a lot of private meetings; rules start tightening up; workers leave and are not replaced; rumors circulate. The writing is on the wall, perhaps literally when notices go up: people are going to lose their jobs, and perhaps the entire workplace will soon close. 

What had been unthinkable in times of booming industry and union strength has become too common now. I went through a similar situation, perhaps you have, too. And in a recent era, this was the fate of Detroit auto workers in Dominique Morrisseau’s “Skeleton Crew,” the drama presented by Summit Performance at the Phoenix Theatre.

Faye (Dwandra Nickole Lampkin) is within months of 30 years at the plant. She is also: a proud UAW rep; a feisty cancer survivor who can’t – won’t – give up smoking; stubborn protector of her crew, especially Shanita (Akili Ni Mali) and Dez (Kerrington Shorter); practically a mother to the foreman, Reggie (Daniel A. Martin); wise and philosophical, always with something to say; eager to take your money in cards, but not always successful; and a multi-skilled worker who never seems to leave the factory. The fact that she is gay is honestly her least significant trait. 

Shanita is the best on the production line, proud of following her father and helping build something others will be proud to own. She doesn’t even let pregnancy slow her down. As for Dez, he’s got big plans, nice shoes and a gun in his bag. He talks smooth and means well, but the fire within him isn’t always under control. He and Reggie don’t get along, as they seem to assume the worst of each other. Then again, Reggie is right that Dez has been gambling on the premises. 

And as word swirls around that the plant is doomed, someone is quietly stealing from the plant – taking their severance one metal part at a time.

Needless to say, there is a lot of drama and tension as the uncertainty builds. But Morisseau has sprinkled in a healthy dose of workplace humor, and a bit of feeling among the members of this workplace family. It doesn’t take much digging nowadays for these skilled actors to bring the emotions – from concern to frustration – to the surface. Lampkin is a rock. Mali radiates confidence. Shorter gives substance to the angry-young-(black)man archetype. And Martin, known to many for his comic skills, again shows his true range.

Director Melissa Mowry strikes the right balance in the look and feel of the play. The stage (designed by Mejah Balams) is a plant break room, a temporary respite from the noise and stress just outside the back-wall door. Opaque windows show images of industry, and at transitional points in the story, silhouettes of cast members moving rhythmically – men as machines – choreographed by Mowry with the actors. It’s a brilliant visual element that sticks with you.

Powerful drama with strong performances, “Skeleton Crew” has two weekends remaining, through March 13 at the Phoenix, 705 N. Illinois St. For tickets, visit phoenixtheatre.org or go to summitperformanceindy.com.

CCP: Explore ‘Curious Incident’ with unique mind

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By Wendy Carson and John Lyle Belden

Christopher John Francis Boone is 15, a mathematical genius who finds all social and physical interactions terrifying. This is because Christopher is autistic. He lives alone with his father in Swindon, UK, having lost his mother two years earlier.

His love of animals brings him out one night to visit the neighbor’s poodle, Wellington, only to find it killed. Since he’s found kneeling with the dog, he is initially accused of its death. When the responding policeman tries to calm him down, his touch causes Christopher to lash out and be arrested. The misunderstanding is cleared up, but Christopher is left with a warning on his permanent record.

Discovering the murder of a dog is too irrelevant to be investigated, he decides, against his father’s strong wishes, to do it himself. This results in him having to talk to his neighbors, who to him are strangers, but he is determined to overcome his fears and solve this mystery, “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime.” This 2015 Tony-winning play by Simon Stephens, based on the acclaimed novel by Mark Haddon, is on stage at the Cat Theater through March 6, presented by Carmel Community Players. 

While he does eventually find the killer’s identity, the path to that information has Christopher discover a huge family secret and embark on a journey that tests his resolve and the very limits of his abilities.

The staging, like the novel, is from Christopher’s point of view. Director Larry Adams and his crew (assistant Karissa Monson, lighting and video design by Eric Matters, set by David Muse, and sound design by Lori Raffel) excellently deliver the technical aspects of his world with all its abrupt stimuli, cacophonous sounds, and tangled language. 

Being on stage the whole time, the role of Christopher is demanding to start with – add to this a British accent, various physical tics and almost constant movement and it turns into a Herculean challenge. In his first leading role, Noah Ebeyer is spectacular in embodying the part. He never seems to act; we only see the troubled genius trying to make sense of his world, get the answers he feels he deserves, and get to school in time to take his Maths A-Levels exams. Adams agrees with the talk of the performance being award-worthy, marveling at how Ebeyer took naturally to the role. And while the boy he plays may be put off by us strangers, he makes us feel something special for him.

Christopher’s teacher Siobahn (Lori Colcord) provides support and reads to us much of his inner dialogue from a notebook he had kept. Earl Campbell is sharp as his father Ed, struggling to do what’s best for Christopher and learning the hard way the consequences of keeping facts from one whose mind relies on them for his whole life’s structure. Nikki Lynch plays Christopher’s loving but overstressed mother Judy.

The rest of the cast – Tanya Haas, Kelly Keller, Cathie Morgan, Gus Pearcy, Ryan Shelton, Barb Weaver – morphs from one character to another (people as well as inanimate objects) while also voicing Christopher’s self-doubts and thoughts. No actual dogs were killed in the making of this show – including Bob Adams in a touching canine cameo.

Also, you will cheer for a mathematical solution! (Stay through the curtain call.)

The Cat is at 254 Veterans Way in downtown Carmel. Find information and tickets at CarmelPlayers.org.

Touching treatment of Steinbeck classic in Westfield

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By Wendy Carson

There was a comedian who once said he doesn’t like “Star Wars” because growing up he saw the movie “Spaceballs” first and was disappointed by the lack of comedy. Growing up with numerous Looney Tunes cartoon shorts parodying various high-minded subjects, I feel the same way about “Of Mice and Men.” I liked the comedic versions I grew up watching. However, I have learned that with local theater offerings, a great production can change your opinion of a show — and that is the case here.

Main Street Productions in Westfield has on stage a remarkable version of the John Steinbeck novel. George Milton (Brian Coon) and Lennie Small (Joe Wagner) are two drifters in search of a small stake they can use to purchase a small house and farm in order to “live off the fat of the land.” This brings them to the barley farm that proves to be their salvation and undoing.

Once they arrive in the farm bunkhouse, they meet our somewhat usual assortment of characters: the gruff, no-nonsense Boss (A. Mikel Allan) and his hot-headed son Curley (Jake Hobbs), who recently married and seems to always be searching for his flirty wife (Audrey Duprey). For the actual working members of the crew, we have Slim (Robert Webster Jr.), the mule driver and de facto supervisor; Candy (Chris Otterman) a crippled, aging farmhand with a dog (Meeko) about as broken as he is; Crooks (Austin Hookfin), the black stable-hand who gets his name from his injured back (NOTE: As the script was written in 1937 and takes place during the Great Depression, certain racist terms are used, in context); as well as the other farm hands Carlson (Logan Browning) and Whit (Nathaniel Taff).

Coon does a great job of balancing George’s ambitious dream of the future with his concerns for Lennie’s actions erasing all hope of it. While Wagner seemed to take a little bit to fully get into character, once he settled in, his Lennie emulates all of the sweet naivete and simplicity of purpose that the character struggles with in his desire to just hold and enjoy the feel of something soft in his hands.

Otterman’s performance is perhaps my favorite. He manages to keep Candy upbeat while embracing the character’s desolate vision of his pathetically painful demise on the farm. He takes on the hopefulness of joining George and Lennie on their farm, trusting them to “take him out back and shoot him” when he is no longer viable. He even manages to upstage Meeko, whose debut turn as Candy’s Dog makes him a rising star to watch for in future roles.

Chris Otterman aptly brings out Curley’s obsessively neurotic desires to keep his wife happy, yet under control, at any cost. As Curley’s wife, Duprey delicately treads the line between the lonely woman who just wants companionship and the “tart” out to make trouble among the menfolk for her own pleasure. Webster does an admirable job of subtly showing Slim as a man just wanting to keep peace throughout the workforce without encouraging any of them to fall for the “honey trap.”

Hookfin gives us a window to the struggles people in his skin had in that era, even in the otherwise egalitarian world of the farm worker or ranch hand.

James H. Williams directs, and Ian Marshall-Fisher provides an excellent bunkhouse/barn design for the stage. Coon also created the lighting design.

While the show is a heady mixture of the stark realities of life, it does manage to portray the human struggle for hope and happiness throughout. Whether you liked the novel or not, you should certainly give the play a viewing. It will help open dialogues regarding its message and why it remains a classic of literature that should continue to be taught in our schools.

One weekend of “Of Mice and Men” remains, though Sunday, Feb. 20, at the relatively new Basile Westfield Playhouse, 220 N. Union St., Westfield. Info and tickets at www.westfieldplayhouse.org.

Catalyst tells troubling tales with ‘Pillowman’

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By John Lyle Belden

I’ll admit some bias up front: Wendy and I are good friends with Casey Ross, and longtime supporters of her plays and work as founder of Catalyst Repertory. Wendy is also a big fan of Martin McDonagh’s very dark comedy, “The Pillowman.”

Still, I hope you believe us when we say that Catalyst’s Ross-directed production of “Pillowman” at the IndyFringe Theatre is perfectly cast and brilliantly executed (pardon the apt turn of phrase).

For those unfamiliar with the play, the setup misleads you. In a fictional dictatorship, the State Police arrest and detain a writer of stories for children. At first, it appears that this is a political persecution, a free expression issue. But though the officers do routinely violate citizens’ civil rights, it turns out they have a good reason for interrogating Katurian Katurian (Taylor Cox) and his mentally handicapped brother Michal (Dane Rogers) – brutal child murders that resemble the plots of Katurian’s stories.

Dave Pelsue is lead detective Tupolski, with Matthew Walls as Detective Ariel, who plays “bad cop” (complete with custom-built torture device). Given the heinous nature of the crimes, they feel quite justified in their tactics. Katurian, well aware of this, tries in vain to assert his innocence. When he finally spends time with Michal, he finds the situation even more bleak than he had feared.

During the course of the narrative, we also see recitations of the macabre tales, acted by Rachel Snyder and David Rosenfield as the cruel Mother and Father, Eleanor Turner as the young Boy, and Lane Snyder as the little Girl. McDonagh’s stories within the story have the bizarre air of popular fiction by writers like Roald Dahl, but the playwright has said his inspiration goes further back, to the dark, original versions of Grimm’s Fairy Tales and the traditional stories of his Irish childhood. Such fables were meant to teach children lessons, but Katurian seems to enjoy the maimings and torture of his writings a bit much – perhaps owing to his own dysfunctional childhood, revealed in his lone “autobiographical” story, “The Writer and the Writer’s Brother.”

Ross also incorporates shadow puppetry in the telling of his stories, and a lifesize plush version of the title character. The Pillowman is Katurian’s attempt to make sense of the senseless things that happen to children, including himself and Michal, while incorporating a fatalistic outlook. 

Performances are exceptional. Pelsue has the tough-SOB archetype down, and gives us a perfect calm-but-simmering veteran cop. Walls plays a man who has a human layer under the professional inquisitor, but makes you earn getting a glimpse of it. Cox doesn’t look like the kind of person who can survive such an interrogation, but he finds some fight within him. 

As for Rogers’s Michal, he keeps it “simple” without being an insensitive caricature. Comparisons with Lennie of “Of Mice and Men” are unavoidable – and purely by coincidence, there is a production of Steinbeck’s story now on stage in Westfield. But while the classic big man felt absolutely no malice, Michal’s damaged past allows for dark vengeance, and pain is just part of a child’s story.

“There are no heroes,” Ross told me. All four men enter the story broken, and not all will leave alive. As for the stories, 400 manuscripts sitting in document boxes, it is their fate that is the main question. Will they survive? Should they? 

Performances continue Feb. 18-20 at the IndyFringe Basile Theatre, 719 E. St. Clair, Indianapolis, and streaming Feb. 25-27 on Broadway on Demand. For info and tickets, visit catalystrepertory.org or indyfringe.org.

Phoenix: ‘Love’ in an unusual place

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By John Lyle Belden

True story: In the middle of the Pacific Ocean, an area bigger than many countries, there is a vast sea of human-generated garbage. Now, what if a solitary seabird called Nigel, who lived on a remote island off New Zealand (also true), instead occupied a tiny patch of land in those plastic-infested waters?

This sets the stage for “Love Bird,” a play by K.T. Peterson at the Phoenix Theatre. Note that I write “solitary” above rather than “lonely,” as in this fantasy, Nigel (portrayed by Scot Greenwell) constructed a couple of companions from the washed-up flotsam.

Elegant Saundra he adores, and wishes would return his affection. Nigel creates an extravagant nest, and even composes a song for her on his homemade instrument. But also, there’s easygoing Jessica, who likes to hang around in a nearby tree (a shrubbery, she corrects in his head). She’s the kind of friend who is easy to talk to.

“What a world we create for ourselves,” Nigel remarks, with no sense of irony.

He has a ring-pop secreted in a shell-covered box for his true love. The nearby pod of whales converse mainly with each other, so Nigel instead argues with some oncoming storm clouds. Suddenly, another flesh-and-blood seabird appears.

Norman (Bill Simmons) has different plumage, a gregarious personality, and likes to draw in the sand – mostly portraits of eggs. He comes bearing a gift of clothespins. He also seems to have been observing Nigel from afar, which is bothersome. 

Concerns are put aside, however, as Nigel sets up a wonderful dinner party for Norman, a double-date with Saundra and Jessica. Eventually, the storm butts in, and changes everything.

The portrayals of these birds (Nigel is a gannet, Norman is unspecified but resembles a brown boobie) are fascinating and highly entertaining. With the help of creative makeup, clownish clothing by Beck Jones, and movement to mimic creatures not used to walking everywhere, what we get is anthropomorphic but not human. Rather than seeing bird costumes revealing the personality within, we observe pure personalities with the hint of an avian exterior.

I wanted to love this play more than I did. There was much affection for Nigel among the audience, partly because Greenwell is just so darn adorable. In fact, it is the stellar talents of both him and Simmons – who provides contrast, tension, and eventually revelation – that elevate this performance above issues I had with the text. The human-relatable metaphors get muddled, as the characters make references both to being birds (“when I was a fledgling”) and being stuck in an office job with a “Karen.” And is it really that necessary for a bird to have a boat?

One obvious point in the play is the ubiquitousness of the garbage, from which Nigel makes his world,* and that Norman is tempted to eat. (This brings on one hilarious literal “gag.”) The fact that it goes without comment should perhaps be distressing to us, as our junk becomes “normal” to the creatures who live there. But in its colorful arrangement by set designer Kyle Ragsdale, and the way Nigel/Greenwell relishes its pieces, it comes across more quaint than invasive.

Directed by Jolene Mentink Moffatt, with the quirky weirdness you often get in plays like this (which has long been a hallmark of the Phoenix), this romantic comedy like no other might not be for everyone. But it is worth a look for its visuals and performances. At the core, it’s just a couple of bird-brains looking for companionship, and we can all relate to that.

One weekend of performances remain, through Feb. 20 on the mainstage at 705 N. Illinois St., downtown Indianapolis. Get info and tickets at PhoenixTheatre.org.

(*The trash was not a factor in the life of the real Nigel, as he lived on a relatively clean island with concrete gannets placed by researchers to attract the birds. Poor Nigel was the only taker, making him Internet-famous. The lone but not lonely bird passed away in February 2018, next to his concrete “mate.” Other live gannets have since taken his place on Mana Island, two miles north of New Zealand. [Source: Washington Post])  

‘Good’ show at BCP

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By John Lyle Belden

Hard times can make hard people, but also “Good People,” in the hit 2011 Broadway play by David Lindsay-Abaire, now on stage at Buck Creek Players.

Margie (Molly Bellner) is a lifelong resident of Southie, a Boston working-class neighborhood — the kind of hardscrabble place one grows up planning to escape. For years, she struggled since dropping out of high school to take care of her baby, now a mentally disabled adult. Care for the unseen Joyce has made her late for work one too many times, and she is searching for a job again. Her friend Jean (Francie Mitchaner) and landlady Dotti (Susan Hill) suggest Margie look up her past boyfriend Mike (Jeremy Tuterow), a successful doctor, to see if he can help. Her visit to his office quickly becomes awkward, yet results in her getting an invitation to his birthday party at his nice home.

Later at the Bingo Hall (with Brian Noffke as the voice of the Priest calling the numbers), Margie meets Jean, Dotti, and her former Dollar Store supervisor, Stevie (Josh Rooks). She tells them about the party, and her hopes of hitting up someone there for a job. Jean notes that if she tells Mike that Joyce wasn’t born prematurely, making him the father, Margie could leverage that to get his help. But then Mike calls, saying the party has been cancelled – Margie doesn’t believe him, and goes anyway.

This play is best described as a rather dark comedy, wringing a good amount of humor from sad and uncomfortable situations. The struggles aren’t just with employment, as the Act II “party” with Mike and his wife Kate (Alicia Sims), a beautiful African-American woman, becomes reminiscent of “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner.”

Bellner gives a brilliant performance, as a person for whom (“pardon my French,” she’d say) “busting your balls” is her love language. Her environment has brought her up so that being passive-aggressive, pushy and manipulative became necessary for survival. But it still comes across that Margie means well, that deep down she strives to be good, or at least “Good People” by Southie standards.

Mitchaner and Hill show in their characters that Margie isn’t unique, Jean and Dotti have only grown older and more cynical. But at least Dotti has her side-hustle, selling handmade (with Joyce’s help) wooden rabbits. Rooks sweetly plays the boy who never got out of Southie, but is making the best of it. Tuterow gives us the boy who did, but resents its shadow, while nursing a darkness that innocent Kate already suspects.

It’s interesting that to these folks, a Bingo jackpot is their “lottery dream.” Note the audience gets a chance to play, too, as Father Noffke calls a game during Intermission, complete with a prize.

With direction and excellent set design by Jim LaMonte, “Good People” has one more weekend, through Sunday, Feb. 13, at Buck Creek Playhouse, 11150 Southeastern Ave. (Acton Road Exit off I-74), Indianapolis. For info and tickets, visit buckcreekplayers.com.

IRT: Book ignites a fire of awareness

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By John Lyle Belden

On Friday, Jan. 28, one of the leading news stories and topics of Internet buzz was the banning of a Pulitzer-winning novel at a school – an example of how such actions not only deprive our youth of literature but also enable the denial of history. That evening, in a bizarre coincidence, we attended the Opening Night of “Fahrenheit 451” at the Indiana Repertory Theatre.

Based on the novel of the same name (referencing the temperature at which paper burns) by Ray Bradbury, adapted by Tobias Andersen (who worked closely with the author), the play is set in a future in which housefires are automatically quenched and Firemen are called upon instead to incinerate books.

Guy Montag (played by Amir Abdullah) loves his job. The printed matter is trivial to him — something society has deemed too distracting and distressing to keep around — he just likes seeing the flames dance. But after a hard day at work, he comes across a neighbor girl, the peculiar Clarisse (Janyce Caraballo) who engages in weirdly sophisticated conversations as she takes her evening walk. Before he can sort out his disquiet, he arrives at home to find his wife Mildred (Jennifer Johansen) overdosed on pills again. After a quick home visit from the paramedics, who routinely undo suicides as part of their rounds, she awakens oblivious to what she had done, eager to spend her day with the television wall. It provides programming so customized, it calls her by name.

Later, Montag and fellow Firemen take down a house surprisingly loaded with printed works, whose owner shockingly takes matters into her own hands. This affects our hero, as curiosity compels him to hide a small novel away in his coat, leading to changes in his life and his thinking, an encounter with an English professor in hiding (Henry Woronicz), and a reckoning with Fire Chief Beatty (Tim Decker).

All but Abdullah play additional roles (Firemen, paramedics, etc.) as needed.

Though Bradbury stayed vague about the year in which this is set, it may not be too far from our future, with so much of the technology already in place: flat-screen TVs; ear buds; ATMs; “Metaverse” connectivity; and a version of the “Hounds,” dog-like robots that hunt books and their readers, now being manufactured by Boston Dynamics.

Also, the play is riddled with literary references, often familiar to even the characters who obediently shun (and destroy) books. This shows the irony of how drenched in past literature our popular culture is, even while we deny the source. It also shows how we take our linguistic touchstones for granted, and how quickly our indifference can lead us to tyranny. For 2022, we can also note how mental distress and illness becomes endemic.

While praising the content, I’ll also note its superb delivery. Abdullah engages us in his hero’s journey, while Decker’s Beatty is a wild study in contrasts, both a steady mentor and Faustian victim finally realizing his cost. Woronicz keeps his reluctant paternal figure neurotic without going over the top, while Caraballo, while charming, isn’t given much to work with – at least she doesn’t stay dead, like in the original novel (a change Bradbury approved, and which shows a bit of manipulation via the “fake news” of her demise). IRT regular Johansen again masters different characters, with divergent moods and motivations. Kudos to director Benjamin Hanna.

Scenic designer William Boles and projection designer Rasean Davonte Johnson have created an artistic masterpiece of a stage, with lines and elements that bridge the “future” tech as envisioned by Bradbury in the 1950s to our 21st century life — classic sci-fi with none of the cheese — a world technological and cold from the perspective of either era.

Performances of “Fahrenheit 451” continue through Feb. 20 at the IRT, 140 W. Washington St., in the heart of downtown Indianapolis, find tickets and information – including the option of streaming a recording of the play — at irtlive.com.

A postscript: Indy is blessed with literary resources including the Center for Ray Bradbury Studies at IUPUI, which helps continue the author’s work in fighting censorship and encouraging literacy and the study of speculative fiction; and the Kurt Vonnegut Museum and Library, which is active in promoting the Hoosier author’s works and involved in the American Library Association Banned Books Week. Please feel free to look into any and all of these.