"A Jumping-Off Point" at the Jungle Theater

"A smart, sharp comedy that asks the important questions about privilege and who is allowed to fail." This tagline on the cover of the program pretty well describes the new play A Jumping-Off Point, receiving its regional premiere at the Jungle Theater. It's the kind of play that I love, one in which complex characters discuss relevant issues in a personal and relatable way, with no easy answers, no winners or losers. And the issues discussed are ones on the forefront of current conversation - who has the right to tell whose story? It's no longer acceptable for a writer to tell the story of a community they're not a part of, particularly a marginalized community. People in that community have the right to tell their own story, something we've only just begun to realize and put into practice. But does that make it OK to steal someone else's idea and "make it better?" Those are the thorny issues that this excellent three-person cast, savvy director, and brilliant design team dig into in just 90 minutes. Buckle your seat belts, not just to make it through Uptown construction to see this play at the Jungle through May 19, but also to navigate the twists and turns of this story.

"Liberty Falls 2020" web series by The Moving Company

The Moving Company is remounting their absurd comedy Liberty Falls 54321 as a four-part web series called Liberty Falls 2020, and I couldn't be happier about it. We revisit the specifically odd characters from the play (last seen in early 2017) in the specifically odd year that is 2020. The first three episodes are free to view, and if you like what you see, the fourth episode can be viewed for only $6.99. The talented and hilarious original cast (plus a few welcome additions) has reunited in creative ways to bring us wonderfully silly story, not without some social commentary. Click here to watch.

"Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again." by Frank Theatre at Gremlin Theatre

Potatoes and bluebells and watermelon, oh my! Just before Frank Theatre's production of Alice Birch's new play Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again, I posted on Instagram: "I'm not sure what I'm in for but I'm pretty sure it's gonna to be awesome. And 70 minutes no intermission." I was right on all counts. I'm still not entirely sure what happened, but it definitely was awesome, and short. Short, intense, and powerful. A six-person cast, a half dozen or so scenes, and a descent into organized chaos. All around the concept of feminism, and deconstructing our assumptions and language around it. Brave and outrageous and impactful and yeah, pretty awesome.

"Idiot's Delight" by Girl Friday Productions at Park Square Theatre

Idiot's Delight is one of those deceptive plays that makes you think it's a light and fun romp through the past, until you begin to see the seriousness behind the beautiful clothes and pretty music. WWI vet Robert E. Sherwood's play premiered in 1936 and is eerily prescient about the impending war in Europe. Or maybe not; maybe it was obvious at the time that the world was heading to another Great War, only 20 years after the first one. But even now, 80 years after it was written, the themes of nationalism, loyalty, changing borders, and a great sadness at the cost of war on all sides ring true. This one left me feeling a little depressed, but with much to contemplate, and also thoroughly entertained, as always, by Girl Friday Productions' biennial contribution to the #TCTheater world. Girl Friday specializes in "larger scale American plays of exceptional literary merit that are less frequently produced today," and Idiot's Delight is indeed a delight, but one that is most certainly not for idiots.

"Amy's View" at Park Square Theatre

Shortly after Mother's Day, Park Square Theatre brings us a mother/daughter story that is just one of the "complicated relationships" (the name of the signature drink accompanying this show) in Amy's View. Theater, criticism, art, finances, and messy relationships of all sorts are exposed in this play that spans 15 years. The play perhaps tries to cover too much, in time and topics, but the excellent cast and design make it worth the ride.

"Liberty Falls 54321" by The Moving Company at The Lab Theater

This weekend, The Moving Company is bringing back their "absurdly funny, surprisingly musically delicious, awkwardly cringe-worthy, and just plain ridiculous (in the best possible way)" Liberty Falls 54321, an operatic comedy. I really loved it the first time around in December of 2015 (and yes, I just quoted myself), and fortunately they've brought back the entire dream team of a cast (I think I've got my first nominee for "best comedic performance by an ensemble" for next year's TCTB Awards). The show is mostly the same show, with a few more topical jokes added referencing the recent election. Whether or not you saw it last time, Liberty Falls 54321 provides a hearty laugh in bleak times, best said by a note in the playbill: "You've got to admit, there's a lot of ugliness out there right now. So, we ask ourselves - what would Moliere do? Well, he'd look at it right in its wrong, ugly face. And make some fun out of it. Have a good old laugh at it. Yes, sometimes you just have to laugh at it all." A good old laugh indeed.

"Henry V" by Theatre Pro Rata at the Crane Theater

I recently wrote, "I should just give up seeing anyone else do Shakespeare, because no one does it like Ten Thousand Things." Of course that's not very realistic for a theater blogger; Shakespeare is still one of our most produced playwrights. But lucky for me, Theatre Pro Rata's new production of Henry V borrows a few things from TTT, namely a small cast, an edited story, and a playful spirit. They use just five actors to play the two dozen or more roles, and what's even more interesting - each actor takes a turn playing the title role. It's all done in a meta theater style in which five actors attempt to tell this epic story and realize just what they're up against, congratulating each other at the end when they accomplish the task. And accomplish it they do, in what is a new and inventive take on a very old play.

"Waiting for Waiting for Godot" by Loudmouth Collective at Open Eye Figure Theatre

Waiting for Waiting for Godot is definitely the lightest and funniest show Loudmouth Collective has done in their five seasons. And friends, it's really funny. Playwright Dave Hanson has written a clever, smart, and silly companion play to Beckett's classic absurdist play Waiting for Godot, in which two understudies are waiting backstage for their moment in the spotlight. Much like the original (which I've seen but am not super familiar with, having only seen it once at the Jungle a few years ago) Waiting for Waiting for Godot is kind of just two idiots blathering about nothing. But in doing so the play touches on the nature of acting and waiting and being. It's another great choice for Loudmouth. As much as I love their dark and intense side, what a treat it is to watch them be fun and playful, while still putting on a sharp and all-around high-quality production with a dream team of cast and creative. In short - go see it! And soon, because it's only around through next weekend, after which you'll just be waiting for Loudmouth's next show in the spring

"Six Characters in Search of an Author" at Park Square Theatre

I first saw director and playwright Alan Berks' adaptation of the 1921 Italian play Six Characters in Search of an Author three years ago at Gremlin Theatre (one of the last shows in their space on University in St. Paul). I called it "a weird, trippy experience, one that's difficult to explain or make sense of. But it sure is fun to try." I was eager to take that trip again with a slightly revamped version of the show, featuring some of the original cast members and some new ones. It was fun to see it in a new space with some new additions, and with a little more preparation for what I was in for. It's still pretty weird and trippy, and still asks some intriguing questions about reality, fiction, and theater itself. What follows is what I wrote three years ago, but with some updates about this production.

"Liberty Falls 54321" by The Moving Company at the Lab Theater

The Moving Company has done it again. With their newest work Liberty Falls 54321, they have yet again created a crazy brilliant original piece of theater that is absurdly funny, surprisingly musically delicious, awkwardly cringe-worthy, and just plain ridiculous (in the best possible way). The story of a 105-year-old woman's birthday celebration in a small town in Wisconsin, created by the company and directed by Dominique Serrand, is really just an excuse for these specifically defined oddball characters to gather and show off their quirks and talents, skillfully brought to life by this dream cast. If you've never experienced the unique genius that is MoCo, let Liberty Falls be your introduction.

"A Lie of the Mind" by Theatre Pro Rata at nimubs theatre

An all too real depiction of the real-life hanging of a circus elephant. A disturbing adaptation of a well-known dystopian novel. A devastating and thought-provoking portrait of a child molester. And now a deep dive into an abusive relationship. Theatre Pro Rata doesn't shy away from the tough stuff. After a brief trip to the lighter side with The Illusion at Park Square this summer, Pro Rata returns to the dark side with a sobering look at abusive and dysfunctional families in Sam Shepard's A Lie of the Mind. This dark fable of a modern day Western offers little hope, but once again Pro Rata offers a beautiful, well-acted and -directed, and disturbing evening of theater.

The play begins shortly after Jake (a frighteningly good Nate Cheeseman) has beaten his wife Beth (a frail yet strong Amy Pirkl) so badly that she ends up in the hospital with brain damage, and has to relearn how to walk and talk. This is not the first time this has happened, and Beth's brother Mike (Bear Brummel) and parents (Don Maloney and Delta Rae Giordano) take her home to recover in Montana where she grew up. Similarly, Jake's sister (Joy Dolo) and bitter mother (Kit Bix) take him in while his brother Frankie (Gabriel Murphy) travels to Montana to check on Beth and make sure she's not dead, as Jake feared. What follows is an exploration of three dysfunctional families. Beth's father is the stereotypical head of the household, spending all his time in the hunting shack and ordering his wife to apply oil to his dry and cracking feet. Jake's mother has never recovered from her husband leaving and his tragic death. And we know how Jake and Beth ended up.

Nate Cheeseman and Amy Pirkl
as the not so happy couple
(photo by Charles Gorrill)

This is one of those plays that makes one happy to be single. What's the point of getting married if all you do is make each other miserable, and raise miserable children who go out to make other people miserable? None of these characters are particularly likeable, but all are beautifully brought to life by the strong cast under the direction of Carin Bratlie Wethern. Perhaps the least hateful of these miserable people is Beth, who, like many so-called simple-minded characters, speaks simple and eloquent truth in her blunt and mixed up speech. And Frankie seems like a good guy, trying to make up for his brother's sins. But maybe looking for good guys isn't the point of the play. Maybe it's to recognize the bad guys within all of us. And then hopefully not marry one.

The starkly beautiful West of Sam Shepard's imagination is well represented on nimbus' intimate stage by scenic designer Ursula Bowden. The stage elegantly and seamlessly combines three very different sets - a hotel, hospital room, and childhood basement bedroom - with a painted Western backdrop tying them together. The former two sets are replaced by the Montana living room, which shares some of the same space with the basement bedroom. In fact they almost seem to exist in the same space, even though they're presumably hundreds of miles apart, as Jake and Beth can almost seem to see each other across the distance.

The last Shepard play I saw was only an hour long, so I was expecting this one to be short as well. It's not, coming in at almost three hours with intermission. That's a long time to spend with these miserable people in their miserable lives, but it's a compelling and engaging play despite the misery. A Lie of the Mind continues through September 27.

"The Reagan Years" by Workhaus Collective at the Playwrights' Center

I've never seen the movie American Psycho, but the idea I have of it in my head is similar to what I saw at the Playwright's Center last night. In Workhaus Collective's production of Dominic Orlando's dark new play The Reagan Years, we meet a wealthy young man who appears to be mostly normal on the outside, but is hiding a deep dark psychopathic soul. It's a compelling and fascinating story, well directed by the playwright and well performed by a talented young cast, but it's a hard one to stomach due to the ugly and violent nature of the situation and the characters.

It's 1988, near the end of the Reagan years, and four college buddies are facing graduation and having to leave their free and easy partying college life for the real world. Calling themselves "The Danger Boys" (a name that later becomes startlingly fitting), they live together in a house owned by Guy's father, who runs a large corporation. Guy is the typical spoiled little rich boy, entitled, conceited, generous with his friends but demanding of loyalty almost to the point of subservience. The primary victim of this is young Moth, possessing an artist's soul and a sycophantic love for Guy. Frisbee is the perpetual stoner and party boy, and Walkman is the ambitious one who wants a place in Guy's family's company. On the night before graduation after a weekend of blissfully ignorant partying, the guys find out that there's been a deadly accident involving the company. Walkman convinces Guy to tell him the truth about what's going on, and it's not good. Further complicating matters is Dawn, the hitchhiker that Guy picked up, who seems unusually curious about the company. Things take a dark turn, as Guy reveals his psychopathic nature, and his friends must decide where their true loyalty lies.

the Danger Boys Walkman, Frisbee, and Moth
(Gabriel Murphy, Paul LaNave, and Michael Hanna,
photo by Leah Cooper)

The play is tightly written and directed, coming in at under two hours with a brief intermission (necessary for dramatic effect and to give the audience a much needed break). Everyone in this six-person cast (none of whom were probably alive in 1988) gives a well-defined performance as these very different characters caught up in a messy situation. Michael Hanna's Moth is the most sympathetic, as he imbues the young artist with conflicting feelings of loyalty and justice, showing the depth of the love-hate relationship with Guy. Paul LaNave is the comic relief as the loopy goofy Frisbee, Gabriel Murphy expresses Walkman's inner conflict between his ambition and doing the right thing, and Jessie Scarborough-Ghent and Charlotte Calvert have nice turns in the less-developed roles of Dawn and her friend. But this is really Guy's story, dark as it is, and Bryan Porter is scary good as he portrays this rich playboy's descent into madness, making Guy something truly menacing.

Guy in front of Moth's flag mural
(Bryan Porter, photo by Leah Cooper)

The stage at the Playwrights' Center feels like a frat house in the '80s, with all the mess, music, and period clothes. The entire back wall of the stage is covered by the impressive mural that the character of Moth has created - the original US flag created by painted wood slats. Some cool and trippy slo-mo moments add to the mood.

This was a difficult one for me to watch and to write about, to try to make sense of. I suppose it says something about the end of the Reagan years, the danger of capitalism without a conscience (what do I know, I spent most of the Reagan years doing homework and watching sitcoms). If you're sensitive to violence you might want to stay away, although it's worth noting that much of the violence occurs off-stage, yet is still palpably felt. Only four performances of The Reagan Years remain, so make plans quickly if you're interested in a dark and disturbing tale of greed gone wrong.

"4000 Miles" at Park Square Theatre

Is there a sweeter word in the English language than "Grandma?" Maybe it's because I don't have one anymore, but there's something about the grandchild/grandparent relationship that strikes me as so unique and special. Your grandparents are sort of like your parents, only much cooler and wiser. Park Square Theatre's production of playwright Amy Herzog's 2011 play 4000 Miles explores this relationship in a really beautiful way. With a small cast and a simple and profound story, it's perfectly suited to their new thrust stage* in the basement of the historic Hamm Building.

The title refers to Leo's cross country journey by bicycle, starting from his current home in Seattle, through his childhood home in St. Paul, and ending at his grandmother's Greenwich Village apartment. The journey took some unexpected turns, and Leo is suffering from more than just the usual angst of youth. He and his grandma Vera don't know each other well, but he has nowhere else to go. He needs to heal and figure out where to go from here, and Vera helps him do that, just by being there, listening (when she has her hearing aid in), and providing that no-nonsense sage advice of those older and wiser than us. Vera comes to rely on Leo as well and enjoy having him around. They develop a comfortable rapport, but alas, by definition of the relationship the situation can't continue as it is, and once Leo has healed, he's ready to leave the nest again.

Leo and Vera (Gabriel Murphy and Linda Kelsey,
photo by Petronella Ytsma)

Under director Gary Gisselman, this four-person cast really shines. Brief appearances by Becca Hart as the estranged girlfriend and Joann Oudekerk as his date shed more light on Leo's character, but the show belongs to Linda Kelsey and Gabriel Murphy. Linda's performance as Vera is so lived in and real, it's easy to imagine sitting down at her table for coffee and frozen pastry. She gives Vera a vital spirit that's struggling to get through her aging body and mind. Gabriel hits all right the notes as this cocky youngster who thinks he has it all together, slowly peeling back the layers as Leo lets his grandmother (and the audience) see the trauma he's experienced and the pain that he's feeling. The two of them together are just so charming as they portray a really beautiful multi-generational relationship.

This is only the second play in the new Andy Boss Stage, so it's fun to continue to explore what it can look like and be. In this case, scenic designer Rick Polenek has transformed it into a very detailed and realistic NYC apartment. The back of the stage is lined with shelves filled with books and tchotchkes, while dated grandmotherly furniture extends into the thrust part of the stage.

4000 Miles is one of those wonderful plays that's not big on action, but that really digs into relationships and characters, through sharp, funny, poignant dialogue, as well as through things left unsaid. Unfortunately I'm catching this one towards the end of its short run; it closes this weekend. But if you have some free time in your holiday schedule this weekend, it's definitely worth a visit.


*I was not able to see 2 Pianos, 4 Hands, now playing on Park Square's main stage, due to scheduling issues, but I saw it two years ago and found it to be quite delightful! Read more of my thoughts here, and buy your tickets for this year's show here.