Shelton Auditorium

What we cannot know, we must ‘Describe’

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By John Lyle Belden

“Tell me another lie!”

It turns out that this is the only way to tell an honest story during this last century in the Soviet Union and the republics that succeeded it. In Southbank Theatre Company’s season of Origins, we have “Describe the Night” by Rajiv Joseph exercising its dramatic license to describe the rise of a Russian leader, as well as some people who have roles in that story.

The play’s title comes from the notes in a diary kept by celebrated Jewish Russian writer Isaac Babel. He notes that the words each person uses in a description can be true, even if they don’t agree. Facts are affected by the observer.

In 1920 near Warsaw during the Russo-Polish War, Isaac (Kallen Ruston) writes of Russian officer Nikolai Yezhov (Ronn Johnston) killing a man in self-defense, as the Soviet press will report. The two meet, and in their conversation the matter-of-fact Nikolai admires Isaac’s way with a story, his ability to relate an absurdity with a straight face. Key to this prevarication is the diary, where private feelings are kept, and perhaps “lies” like the murder of a helpless old Pole burying his son.

In 2010 at Smolensk, Russia, a small jet crashes, killing all on board, including Poland’s president and other government officials. The dense fog, outdated airport technology, and witness accounts of the airplane striking the tops of trees as it approached too low seem to confirm the official report that this was an accident – but, in this place, how can anything so straightforward be true? Mariya (Brittany Magee), a Moscow reporter sent to do a simple feature profile, hides in a Smolensk car rental office with its clerk, Feliks (Jy’lerre Jones), fearing for her life. As she makes her escape, she finds herself in possession of an old diary.

Somehow connecting these points is Alex Oberheid as a handsome, well-dressed Russian official, born in Leningrad/St. Petersburg, with a current address in Moscow. Friends call him Vova, a common nickname for Vladimir.

We also meet Nikolai’s wife Yevgenia (Miranda Boyle), a clairvoyant and, like her ruthless husband, apparently difficult to kill – though official records have him executed by his fellow Soviets in 1940 while she died in an insane asylum. In 1989 in Dresden, East Germany, where Vova is assigned by the KGB, he encounters Yevgenia while spying on her granddaughter Urzula (Rachel Kelso). Be careful with that soup.

Directed by Paige Scott, a master storyteller in her own right, this entire play is an unreliable narrator, yet within it is the absolute truth. To understand these lives – including persons actually known to our world – it helps to understand the culture of secrets and shadows that dominate that part of the world, and not just those for whom espionage is a career. As current events and technology bring our country into this atmosphere of doublethink and selective truth, this sort of story becomes all the more important.

Oberheid has Vova project confidence throughout, even when he doesn’t feel it. In fact, it gets more interesting in the moments when he isn’t in complete control. Boyle has always been good at charming characters with don’t-give-a-damn attitude, and she is in her element here. To her, second sight is not a gift or curse, but a responsibility, with her prophesies as valid as anything else being said. Ruston maintains the stubborn idealism of Isaac throughout (having seen photos of Babel, I see the sense in casting a woman dressed androgynously). Johnston’s portrayal of Nikolai is deceptively friendly, though the sociopath within eventually comes through. (I looked up Yezhov. This play practically makes him a saint compared to history, but then, even monsters can contain multitudes.) Magee and Jones make good use of their limited time on the stage, and the characters get to put the final button on the plot.

Tracy Herring is assistant director, and Ariel Laukins stage-manages. Aric Harris skillfully clutters an excellent stage for hinting at conspiracies. No leeches were harmed.

In a world that’s hard to describe, and one must choose those words carefully, it’s no trivial matter to “Describe the Night.” Performances are Thursday through Sunday, Nov. 12-15, at Shelton Auditorium, 1000 W. 42nd St. (southwest corner of Butler University campus), Indianapolis. Get tickets a southbanktheatre.org.

Southbank delivers brilliant Bechdel biography

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By John Lyle Belden

Southbank Theatre Company opens its season of Origins with the coming of age and coming-out musical, “Fun Home,” based on the graphic memoir by Alison Bechdel, with book and lyrics by Lisa Kron and music by Jeanine Tesori.

Cartoonist Bechdel, reaching the age that her father died, tries to come to terms with the past with her art. As she draws, stumped for the right captions to add, she remembers her life as a restless girl with her brother, sister, and parents in a “House on Maple Avenue” in Beech Creek, Pa., as well as her fateful first year of college when, in her words, she came out as a lesbian, and her closeted gay father killed himself.

We find her upbringing to be a little unusual, in a house with a museum-like collection of various antiques, with a father who not only teaches English at the high school but also runs a mortuary (the “Fun[eral] Home” of the title) passed down through the family. Father always has need of a young handyman to help with home improvement projects – his true purpose to which the kids are oblivious, while their mother understands too well.

Directed by Southbank founder and artistic director Marcia Eppich-Harris, she has again assembled an excellent cast. Patrick Vaughn plays conflicted and complex father Bruce, exacting and demanding with others as he strives to maintain tight control on himself. Afton Shephard gives an intense portrayal of self-sacrificing mother Helen. Orion Cortez and Lilly Adams give appropriately goofy teen performances as siblings John and Christian. Their comfort with unconventional surroundings especially comes through in the “Come to the Fun Home” TV-commercial skit they work on with little sister Alison – darkly “fun” in the conventional sense of the word.

Alison herself is portrayed by three actors:

Julie Lyn Barber is splendid as Adult Alison, greeting the memories playing out before her with a grin of hard-won wisdom and an unshakable sense of regret. Sharing her lack of certainty ironically makes her a more reliable narrator.

Emery Haley is Medium Alison, the college freshman discovering herself while struggling to understand her father – unaware their last day together will be their last day ever. Her coming out – first to herself, then her family – is a relatable experience for many, and we can all sense her apprehension at life away from home for the first time. We share her joy as she declares she’s “Changing My Major” to making love to Joan – smartly played by Nia Hughes. Her growing anxiety over life’s changes is also palpable.

Ellie Richart has a big role as Small Allison. This is not the kind of show that says “that’s me as a kid” and moves on – many of the pieces of this play’s puzzle are revealed in her early life. Richart’s talent especially shines in “Ring of Keys” in which the subject of the song is never seen but must be realized through the girl’s description and expression; this is a pivotal moment in Alison’s young life, and Richart nails it.

Bobby Haley also does very well as the various men in Bruce’s life. Most scenes of them together come off more serene than tawdry, adding to the growing tension as the Bechdels find their life of secrets ever harder to manage.  

Music director is Kristin Cutler, choreography by Andre Williams, and stage manager is Madison Pickering. The set design by Scott Hall features large reproductions of panels from the book made by Eppich-Harris and Casey Ross.

A compelling production of the Tony-winning, Pulitzer-nominated masterpiece, “Fun Home” has four remaining performances, Thursday through Sunday, Sept. 24-27 at Shelton Auditorium, 1000 W. 42nd St., Indianapolis (southwest corner of Butler University campus). Get info and tickets at southbanktheatre.org.

In this comedy, she really slays them

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By John Lyle Belden

As I once heard a comedian say, at some point with a mass murderer’s body count, you’re not sure whether to be appalled, or impressed.

Southbank Theatre Company presents “Hell’s Belle,” billed as “A True Crime Dark Comedy About Indiana’s First Serial Killer,” by Amalia Howard, directed by Becky Schlomann. Local actor Howard’s script was the winner of Southbank’s playwriting contest to determine this season’s closing show.

Based on the true story of Belle Gunness, a Norwegian-born widow who lived on a farm by the northern Indiana town of LaPorte from 1901 to 1908, we get a light-hearted look at a heavy topic. Howard portrays Belle’s sister, Nellie Larson, who narrates the story, speaking through time to today’s audiences, as well as other roles as needed. Ryan Moskalick and Jim Cherry play various men, many of whom do not live long. One exception is Moskalick as the farmhand Ray Lamphere, who survives Belle only to be tried as an accomplice.

As the star of the show, we have Lisa Marie Smith as Belle. She is plain but not ugly, and quite a find for lonely sons of Norway seeking the comfort of the cooking they grew up with. Her kitchen talents were indeed notable, if you don’t mind the strychnine.

Smith gives her enough cleverness and charisma to keep her activities unsuspected, coupled with her unresolved issues around men and the children she desperately wants but can’t keep alive. She also feels the financial pressure that hits hard on single women of the era. Not that this excuses numerous instances of insurance fraud, but then, a girl gets accustomed to a certain standard of living.

While not downplaying the seriousness of the crimes, we get a rather humorous look at these events, especially the circus atmosphere that attends the eventual discovery of her many, many victims.

How many people did she kill? Did she get away with it all, slipping away with what today would be more than a million dollars? These questions are still debated. The evidence is presented for you to make your own guess as well.

Schlomann is assisted by Rachel Serago; Jenn Byers is stage manager. Simple yet comfy set design is by Scott Hall. Costumes and props are by Karen Cones, with the deadly meat-grinder 3-D printed by Tony Troxell.*

For an entertaining bit of macabre Indiana history, attend “Hell’s Belle,” Thursday through Sunday (April 30-May 3) at Shelton Auditorium, 1000 W. 42nd Street (southwest corner of Butler University), Indianapolis. For info and tickets, go to southbanktheatre.org.

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*(Edit after original posting, thanks to producer Marcia Eppich-Harris for giving us Troxell’s name.)

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.

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.

Play finds a way to have its say

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By John Lyle Belden

Equivocation, the use of language to say something without directly saying it, is a way of “telling the truth in difficult times,” according to the play “Equivocation” by Bill Cain, presented by Southbank Theatre Company, directed by Marcia Eppich-Harris.

In Cain’s drama, he takes actual historical events in the wake of the Gunpowder Plot of Nov. 5, 1605, and adds a fascinating “what-if?” – that King James I (target of the treason), through his advisor Sir Robert Cecil, commissioned William Shakespeare to write – adapting a prepared manuscript – a play on the “True Historie” of the event.

(The “Plot,” now remembered in the UK as Guy Fawkes Day, was to blow up the House of Lords while the King was in attendance for the opening of Parliament. An anonymous letter to one of the Lords warning him to stay away was given to Cecil, who showed it to James. Fawkes was not a principal conspirator but rather the “trigger man,” arrested before he could light the fuse on 36 barrels of powder. The cause behind this assassination attempt, which would have killed hundreds if not thousands, was the ongoing strife between England’s Catholics and the ruling Protestants.)

Shakespeare (Ronn Johnston) turns down the assignment, noting he only writes past events, legends and history, not current events. Cecil (J. Charles Weimer) insists, calling the playwright a master of “the art of cynical manipulation” whose works will outlive him by at least half a century. In this flattery, he could be describing himself, a man physically and ethically bent who helped put the former King of Scotland on the throne, and – especially as a bag of coins hits Shakespeare’s palm – one unwise to refuse.

“Shag,” as the Bard was then known, says he will bring it to his company, the King’s Men, a cooperative enterprise, for a vote. Veteran actor Richard Burbage (Dan Flahive), essentially the company leader, is at first reluctant but they could use the money. Actors Robert Armin (Joshua Matasovsky), Nate Field (Weimer), and young Richard Sharpe (Matthew Ball) readily agree.

In writing the King’s play, Shakespeare encounters a problem: In a story about something not happening, there is nothing interesting to put on the stage. While exploring the questions of what did happen, Shakespeare finds a bigger problem: The truth is not what was written on the pages given to him.

This leads to revealing interviews with alleged conspirators, Tom Wintour (Ball), awaiting execution, and Father Henry Garnet (Flahive), awaiting trial. Garnet was notable for his treatise on equivocation, which Shakespeare begs to better understand.

Also on hand is Shakespeare’s daughter, Judith (Abigail Wittenmyer), whose twin brother Hamnet (their father’s favorite) died in childhood. She lends assistance, though little appreciated, but will have her say.

In the shadow of the gallows, the Bard labors to bring forth a work of honesty that still keeps him off that scaffold. The results will still be remembered, many-times-fifty years later.

Johnston gives us a very human and relatable Shakespeare, exhibiting flashes of his genius along with his frustration at a nearly impossible and dangerous task, as well as his long overdue dealing with a personal struggle. The others flow back and forth smoothly between presenting The King’s Men in rehearsal and the men who serve the King at court. Flahive is masterful in his turns as the gruff master thespian and the clever yet doomed Jesuit priest. Ball also portrays the easily amused yet still intimidating King James, complete with Scottish accent. Wittenmyer makes a potentially overlooked character boldly stand out.

Along the way we sense how tensions then reflect questions now regarding freedom of expression, censorship, and expressing truth to power. These issues are as timeless and relevant, perhaps even more, than the works of the celebrated man at the center of the play.

There remain four more performances of “Equivocation,” Thursday through Sunday, Sept. 18-21, at Shelton Auditorium, 1000 W. 42nd St., Indianapolis (southwest corner of Butler University campus). Get information and tickets at southbanktheatre.org.

Southbank: Seeing ‘Red’ in Black and White

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By John Lyle Belden

American-born actor Ira Aldridge was the first man of African descent to play the lead role in Shakespeare’s “Othello” on the London stage in 1833.

(The tragic character Othello, as most know, was a Moor, dark-skinned from African heritage. But especially as he is the title role, even when Black actors were available in England he was always played by a White man in blackface.)

The play “Red Velvet,” by Lolita Chakrabarti, presented by Southbank Theatre Company, is about this and more, taking measure of a complex and controversial artist with particular emphasis on one of his many milestones.

We open and close the play in 1867 with Aldridge (Daniel Wilke) on what would be his final tour of Europe, performing “King Lear” in Lodz, Poland. We learn he has been a celebrity throughout the Continent and in the U.K., where he also managed a theatre. Turning 60, he is impatient, blustery, and forbids any press interviews (we’ll understand why later).

A young Polish reporter, Halina (Hannah Embree), manages to make her way into his dressing room, talking the actor into taking a few questions. Feeling her to be impertinent, he then sends her away. However, the memories have been triggered, and our scene switches to London, more than 30 years earlier.

During a sold-out London production of “Othello,” famed actor Edmond Kean, in the title role, has collapsed on stage and will never tread the boards again. Theatre manager Pierre LaPorte (Brant Hughes), a friend of Aldridge, sees a chance to make theatre history. Politically progressive company member Henry Forester (J Charles Weimer), who also supports the demonstrations against slavery in the British Empire raging at the time, likes the idea, but fellow thespians Bernard Ward (Doug Powers) and especially Kean’s son Charles (Matt Hartzburg) – who plays the Moor’s murderous rival Iago – do not.

It is argued that the British stage is for escapist fantasy, where a regular (White) person can pretend to be something he is not. This form of stark realism, Ward remarks, is as absurd as a real simpleton playing Caliban or a real Jew as Shylock. Still, LaPorte is adamant and the show goes on, with Aldridge baring his natural face.

While the men seem to fit archetypes one would expect to see in a story of shaking up things in a treasured institution, the women each take an intriguing perspective.

Ellen Tree (Liz Carrier), like the tragic female lead Desdemona that she plays, seems caught in the middle. She must act opposite Aldridge, the focus of this controversy, and she is the fiancé of Charles Kean, who threatens to walk out in protest. Her allegiance is to the company, and she seems intrigued by this American’s approach to the play and its characters. Wilke and Carrier, like the actors they portray, skillfully present themselves as professionals rehearsing a married couple who must stand close and touch each other as they are bonded by love and destroyed by jealousy. Is that all we see? Neither they nor Chakrabarti’s script under the direction of Donna McFadden give us an easy or definitive answer.

In a role of sublime subtlety capped by the profound moments when she finally speaks her mind, Kendall Maxwell is exquisite as the servant Connie. Just her presence at the back of the room – standing in contrast to the man of color who is treated as a peer and equal to the others who only see her as little more than a tea-serving automaton – speaks volumes.

Rachel Kelso plays Aldrige’s wife, Margaret, casually trusting and true to her famous husband. Her understanding helps buoy our feelings for Ira Aldridge, who in turn expresses genuine affection for her, especially when she is no longer with him.

Embree is also impressive, giving us a character having to power through her own issues in a society determined to limit her.

Also, in the 1867 scenes Weimer amusingly plays a randy German stagehand, while Powers is Aldridge’s longsuffering personal assistant.

Hughes delivers a sharp performance as one struggling to keep both a career and a friendship without losing both. His character’s Frenchness makes him a sufficient outsider to be the catalyst of change, still, he’s all (show) business for his role in these events.

We come to find in the play’s title an aspect of Aldridge’s life’s arc. He recalls peering through velvet curtains as a boy to see his first plays; as an adult, he dons a crimson velvet cloak as the Moor. (Just one of many excellent costumes by Karen Cones.) Turning convention on its head, in preparing to play the aging King, he applies greasepaint to lighten his skin.

A reflection and commentary on racial and gender discrimination that has us considering how much has truly changed, and what it has taken to change it, wrapped in an intriguing portrait of a historic individual, “Red Velvet” has one weekend of performances left, Thursday through Sunday, May 1-4, at Shelton Auditorium, 1000 W. 42nd Street, Indianapolis (Butler University campus).  Get info and tickets at southbanktheatre.org.

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.

We love Southbank

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By John Lyle Belden

The power and mystique of the Shakespeare tragedy “Hamlet” are so strong, one can talk about and around the play and not only impart its importance, but also tell a story that stands on its own. This our young protagonist learns in the comedy “I Hate Hamlet,” by Paul Rudnick, presented by Southbank Theatre Company, directed by Eric Bryant.

Set in the early 1990s, television star Andrew Rally (J. Charles Weimer) rebounds from the cancelation of his show by going to New York to play the lead in a Shakespeare in the Park production of “Hamlet.” To be honest, he doesn’t really want to do it, being self-aware that his talent lies more in the small screen than on a big stage.

Still, his girlfriend Deirdre (Michelle Wafford) adores the Bard and might finally give in romantically if Andrew takes the role. His agent, Lillian (Wendy Brown), also sees this as a good decision. On the other hand, we will soon meet his friend Gary (Anthony Nathan), a TV director and smarmy denizen of Hollywood who sees the fading TV star in over his head, getting little to no financial gain from this likely fiasco. Gary arrives with a deal for a style-over-substance show that is assured to make them both rich, if Andrew abandons the Shakespeare gig.

Meanwhile, New York Real Estate broker Felicia (Jean Arnold) has set Andrew up in an eccentrically-decorated apartment that was once home to legendary actor John Barrymore – Drew’s grandfather, and, more importantly, regarded as the greatest Hamlet of his era. Felicia also fancies herself a psychic medium, so she, Andrew, Deirdre, and Lillian (who once knew the actor), attempt to reach out to Barrymore’s spirit.

Unable to resist an opportunity to perform, John (Kevin Caraher) does appear, and won’t leave until Andrew Rally is Hamlet (ghost rules, otherwise he’s stuck).

That’s the plot, but more important is the hilarious journey Andrew takes in getting over his “hate” of Hamlet, feeling compelled to prove to everyone – especially himself – that as an entertainer he is more than just “an anytime snack” (see the show, you’ll get it). Caraher plays Barrymore as a manic mentor, while still carrying echoes of the regrets and alcoholism of his mortal years (the real actor did have an interesting biography). He and Weimer engage in some great physical comedy, especially when the swords come out.

Wafford’s Deirdre could be pictured next to “giddy” in the dictionary, a blend of (literally) virginal innocence and fangirl ebullience. Brown plays her aging German agent as both sensible and wistful, the latter especially when she has her long-awaited second encounter with the spirited stage star. Nathan does broad comedy as naturally as breathing and embodies happy-go-lucky about as heartily as anyone short of an actual cartoon. It’s telling that Gary lives so much in the alternate reality of the West Coast that he easily sees Barrymore without an inkling that the event is supernatural.

A roaring good time in a sly homage to the power of Shakespeare and the character of those who take it on, you’ll love “I Hate Hamlet.” Performances are Thursday through Sunday, Nov. 14-17, at Shelton Auditorium, 1000 W. 42nd St., Indianapolis, on the southwest corner of Butler University campus. For info and tickets, see southbanktheatre.org.

Southbank takes up Quixote quest

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By John Lyle Belden

“Take a deep breath of life and consider how it should be lived.”

These words spoken by Miguel de Cervantes as his creation Don Quixote in the musical “Man of La Mancha” help sum up the method behind the madness of the deluded knight at the center of the story – and is perhaps his most lucid advice.

Southbank Theatre Company and its founder, director Marcia Eppich-Harris, present the man, the madness, and the dangerous times in which this celebrated satirical novel came forth in their current production of the Broadway classic. Written in the 1960s by Dale Wasserman with music by Mitch Leigh and lyrics by Albert Marre, the story is loosely adapted from Cervantes’s 1605 book, portraying the author working through select scenes and characters in the more sweeping novel.

In the late 1500s, the dreaded Spanish Inquisition has arrested Cervantes (Paul Hansen), along with his servant (Anthony Nathan), not for a certain book he has yet to finish, or for being an actor or playwright, but because in his temporary employ as a tax collector, he tried to foreclose on a church. This lands him in our principal setting, a spacious communal dungeon in which the other prisoners mill about, seeking to cure their boredom. Their Governor (Scott Hall) declares the newcomer should stand trial for charges of the criminals’ choosing.

Cervantes seizes the opportunity – both to buy time and see how his stories are received by others – and “defends” himself by putting on our main story, the play within the play. Pasting on gray whiskers, he declares himself Don Quixote, with his servant now the farmer-turned-squire Sancho Panza. Other prisoners join in as various characters as needed.

If you know nothing else of this tale of an aging minor nobleman who reads one too many medieval romances and thinks himself the last defender of Chivalry, you have probably heard about the windmill. It’s actually a small part of the story, and Quixote’s charge against the four-armed “giant” happens quite soon in the musical. This is how we theatre folk get you, casual fan: come for the windmill tilting, stay for the meaningful stuff.

The plot really gets rolling when Quixote and Sancho arrive at an inn, which our knight sees as a castle (naturally). The Innkeeper (Hall) humors them, and we meet the other guests, a gang of muleteers led by Pedro (Kevin Caraher) who harass Aldonza (Jessica Hawkins), the wench serving up drinks, and maybe something more if the price is right. Quixote sees the woman, envisioning a high-born lady whom he declares to be “Dulcinea.”

Meanwhile in La Mancha, Quixote’s niece Antonia (Ashton Driscoll) and housekeeper (Yolanda Valdiva) enlist the help of a priest (Jericho Franke) and Dr. Carrasco (Rachel Serago) to find the man and bring him back to his senses.

The cast also includes Kendall Maxwell, Scott Stockton, Amalia Howard, Susannah Briscoe, Aaron Henze, Andrea Haskett, and Will Harris, who also plays guitar in coordination with the backstage orchestra, led by Seth Young.

A notable aspect of Cervantes’s satire is the comedy of good intentions gone awry, usually with others hurt while our oblivious old man goes blithely onward. This especially hurts Aldonza, who ironically becomes the one who most gets the point of this pointless adventure in the end. Thus, the musical asks a lot of Hawkins, and she is more than up to the challenge. She is compelling and commanding as a woman coming to terms with the possibility that her horrid past and present don’t define her future.

Veteran actor Hansen captures that perfect mix of maturity and whimsy to tackle his double-role. In both modes, he exudes confidence that stays a step ahead of the fear of a darker reality. Nathan, who must have been a court jester in a past life, is totally in his comic wheelhouse here. Serago, who as a prisoner is Cervantes’s “prosecutor” at trial, keeps one guessing if maybe the good Doctor is getting a kick out of tormenting Quixote in his efforts to save him.

There is much to unpack thematically, especially the simultaneous folly of and need for striving for a higher ethos. Perhaps this is why its most famous song, “The Impossible Dream,” resonates so much for so many. Hear it in context and see the “Man of La Mancha” at remaining performances Thursday through Sunday, March 14-17. at Shelton Auditorium, 1000 W. 42nd St., Indianapolis (edge of Butler University). For tickets and information, go to southbanktheatre.org.