Julius Caesar (Shakespeare By The Sea's 2025 Production) Theatre Review

Julius Caesar set

Each summer, Shakespeare By The Sea takes two of Shakespeare's plays on the road, performing them in various parks all over Los Angeles County and Orange County. Currently, this talented company is putting on Julius Caesar and As You Like It, and yesterday brought its magic to a place that certainly needs it: Altadena. This was the company's first time performing at Loma Alta Park, a rather pretty location that itself seemed untouched by the fire, though the road to the park took us through devastated areas. The play these guys performed at that spot was Julius Caesar, a play that feels particularly timely. It is not that the current occupant of the White House is really much like Caesar as a person (Caesar had military prowess, and also a wife who cared for him), but that his being in power seems to be signalling the fall of our republic. This production uses the Play On Shakespeare text, with updated verse by Shishir Kurup. This was something that worried me, but, truly, apart from one jarring line that has no business in a Shakespeare performance, the text was fine, and most of it was Shakespeare's original text anyway. I should have known to trust this company and director Stephanie Coltrin to do right by Shakespeare. The production features some outstanding performances, particularly by Brendan Robert Kane as Brutus (if you saw his Hamlet in 2023, you know just what this actor is capable of), Jonathan Fisher as Cassius, Caleb Towns as Antony, and Gregory Mason Dodds as Julius Caesar.

The first scene with Cassius and Brutus is done beautifully. Cassius is downstage, while Brutus remains upstage at first, a meaningful separation. Brutus is clearly alarmed by what he hears happening. And Jonathan Fisher does a phenomenal job with that famous speech in which he begins to win over Brutus. On "Another thunderous shout" (a change from Shakespeare's "Another general shout"), Brutus moves downstage and looks out at the audience. This has the effect of making us question ourselves and our neighbors. Who among us didn't know at least one person who was eager for the monster in the White House to take over? On Cassius' "There was a Brutus once," Brutus then looks away, and we see the impact the words have on him. Even an innocent line like Cassius' "I will do so" is packed with meaning the way it is delivered, and in that line we hear his being pleased that Brutus has asked him to come to his home. This production does a good job of establishing relationships, and treats us to a nice moment where Brutus kisses Portia's hand during Caesar's first entrance. There is also an excellent moment as Caesar interprets the looks of Brutus and Cassius, and we see in his face what he suspects. Caesar is no fool.

The actors do not have a lot of entrances and exits through the audience this time, but the ones that occur are well-chosen, such as the entrance of Soothsayer (Nada Jawad), who is female in this production. It makes her feel like one of us, perhaps placing her outside of time, and of course any of us could have likewise warned Caesar of the Ides of March. Regarding the text, the early line "Set on; and leave no ceremony out" here becomes "Play on; and leave no ceremony out," both reminding me of the first line of Twelfth Night and making me wonder if it was a deliberate self-reference by the Play On Shakespeare team. Most of the changes are like that, of little consequence and not all that noticeable, and certainly not detriments to the production. The one line that Shishir Kurup should be whipped for is "Monkeys fly out of my ass." Yikes! The line is spoken by Casca (Will Mueller) and is so jarring that the audience is pulled right out of the story for a moment, instead thinking of that awful Wayne's World movie, where, if I recall correctly, the phrase originated (though there it was "butt," not "ass"). That comes in the speech where Casca talks about Caesar refusing the crown three times, so it is fairly early in the performance.

Brendan Robert Kane is especially excellent in the scene leading up to the entrance of the conspirators. He delivers the line "It must be by his death" to the audience, but he is also speaking to himself, clearly working out what must be done, and how he feels about it. He is captivating as he fashions his argument, while still being troubled by it. By the way, this production's Lucius is quite good. It's not generally a role that stands out, but Noah Allen does a great job. He is funny in the later scene when asking Portia what he should do. When the conspirators enter, they are hooded, and remove their hoods one by one as each is named. Their dark clothes are a nice contrast with Brutus' white night clothes. One thing that is fascinating about this play is how wrong Brutus is, and how right Cassius is. As an audience, we are led to believe that Brutus will be the voice of reason, of good, but it is that very voice, that very goodness, that leads to more trouble. For example, he puts a quick stop to Cassius' plan that Antony should die along with Caesar. And while we naturally support Brutus' approach, it shockingly turns out to be the wrong approach. I sometimes wonder just what Shakespeare is telling us there. And later Cassius cautions Brutus to not let Antony address the crowd after Caesar's murder, and again Brutus' choice leads to trouble for them. During the conspirators scene, Portia (Savannah Moffat) enters, remaining behind the stage, and so overhearing some of the planning, without Brutus knowing. When the others exit, she then joins Brutus. She, like Brutus, is dressed in white, a nice way of showing the two of them aligned. Even if we hadn't seen her lurking in the background earlier, we'd know that she's aware that something's up from her delivery of that big speech to Brutus. And after she lifts her shift slightly to show a bandaged thigh, Brutus kneels before her briefly, a nice touch. These two are so good in this scene, and we see clearly what Brutus is risking, by going through with the plan or not going through with the plan. And later when Brutus addresses the crowd, only Portia is on the stage with him. And she exits with him, showing they are united.

It is also interesting the similarities and differences in the way Calpurnia (Katie Herling) confronts Caesar with her worries, compared with the way Portia approached Brutus. And again, this production excels at showing the relationships. There are wonderful little touches, such as how Caesar looks to Calpurnia after the Soothsayer delivers her line and before he answers her. And there is a great intimacy in the moment when Caesar agrees with Calpurnia. He looks at Calpurnia when saying "And on her knee hath begged," holding her hand. He then lets go of her hand when the dream is interpreted in another way, a nice way of signifying that he has changed his mind. This production also does a great job in building the tension before the conspirators act. Brutus faces Caesar, and we can see the shock and disappointment in Caesar's expression. Caesar's "Then fall, Caesar" follows Brutus' cut. Antony is extraordinary in this scene. He enters carrying a war axe, and on "fit to die" he casts it down, and it seems he really believes he'll be killed. He even flinches, a wonderful touch, as he is knelt over Caesar's body. When he is left alone with Caesar's body, he immediately and furiously wipes the blood from his hand, another wonderful touch. And on "deadly objects so familiar" (a change from Shakespeare's "dreadful objects"), he retrieves his axe. And from that motion, we know things are going to get worse for the conspirators.

Antony does a remarkable job with this play's most well-known speech, making the familiar feel fresh, and swaying us all. Something that Shakespeare does with such skill, and joy, is show how easily manipulated a mob can be, how fickle a crowd is, how easily led and misled, something we know a bit about in this country, for sure. He does it in several plays, and there is a moment here that I love, when Antony has to remind the people to ask him to read Caesar's will, something that he was guiding them to do in the first place. Perhaps the most frightening and chilling moment in relation to the mob is when the people come upon Cinna the Poet, believing him to be Cinna the conspirator. There is the question of whether or not they really believe they have the right Cinna, and it seems to me they don't even care whether they have the right person or not. At that point, they are looking for any excuse to do violence. Interestingly, in this production Cinna the Poet and Cinna the conspirator are played by the same person (Megan Ruble), which might give some credence to the idea that they think they have the right person. They carry Cinna off, and the murder occurs behind the stage. 

One of the most touching scenes of the production is not between Brutus and Portia, or between Caesar and Calpurnia, but between Brutus and Cassius. The scene starts with them angry with each other, and after Brutus' "You have done what you should be sorry for," they are silent for a moment, another nice touch. And after Cassius tosses his dagger to the ground, Brutus retrieves and holds it under Cassius' chin threateningly for a moment before saying, "Sheathe your dagger." They then sit together at the edge of the stage, like two close friends, and it seems that nothing of the world can reach them or harm them. And it is then that Brutus reveals Portia's fate. Not much is made of it in the text, which makes it all the more heart-rending here, for we've seen how Brutus and Portia cared for each other. Brendan Robert Kane is fantastic here. And it is in this most of human of moments that we are certain that Brutus will not remain long in this world. While the play is titled The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, it really feels like The Tragedy of Marcus Brutus.

Julius Caesar runs through July 26, 2025. See the Shakespeare By The Sea website for the complete schedule. There is one intermission, coming at the end of Act III Scene i. The performances are free, but there is plenty of cool merchandise to purchase to help support the company.

"Fuck You, Hamlet" (Thoughts On The Horrible Mark Taper Forum Hamlet 2025 Production)

"Fuck you, Hamlet." That is something that Ophelia says in this debacle. Seriously. And that line should have been the title of the production, because it is clear that adapter and director Robert O'Hara hates Hamlet and also doesn't quite understand the play. The same might be true of the entire cast. This is the absolute worst fucking thing I have ever seen on stage (high school productions and amateur improv group performances included). I was not asked to review this production, and so I did not take notes. So this isn't one of my regular reviews, but rather a bit of a rant, because I have to get this off my chest, and then I hope to expunge the experience from my memory.

Let me begin by mentioning the things that I liked about this production, because that won't take long at all. First, there is a nice moment when Rosencrantz (Ty Molbak) and Guildenstern (Danny Zuhlke) whisper to each other, and that is what leads to Hamlet's questioning whether they were in fact sent for, a nice little bit of business. The second thing I liked was the moment when Hamlet (Patrick Ball) goes to kill Claudius (Ariel Shafir) when he is praying. In this production, Hamlet doesn't hesitate. He goes up and cuts his throat. And then there is a lighting and sound cue, and Hamlet is again downstage of Claudius (who faces away from the audience in his prayers), and we see that Hamlet was just imagining doing the deed. That wasn't bad. But the thing I liked most about this production was Gertrude's gorgeous fur coat. Yup, that full-length white fur was far and away the best thing about this production. Enough about that.

I knew we were in trouble from the beginning, because the first scene is cut. That's right, the opening scene of Hamlet is cut from this production. Why would anyone do that? And then when we do finally see the Ghost, it is done in such a ridiculous and confusing way, with four actors sort of miming the Ghost's part, while a giant face on the screen speaks the Ghost's lines. Awful. Barnardo and Marcellus are completely cut from the production. Before any of that happens, however, we are introduced to Hamlet and Ophelia (Coral Pena), which is not a bad idea. I actually like when productions show us a bit of the relationship between those two in a wordless way near the beginning. But here, well, Hamlet and Ophelia are basically fucking. That is how the production starts, and then Claudius and Gertrude (Gina Torres) enter, and we get the second scene of the play. At this point, I was only disliking the production, and had not yet come to loathe it. The performances are not good. That is the nicest possible way I can state that. It wasn't that far into the play when I thought, "I'm looking forward to this Hamlet's death." All sorts of lines are cut, and entire, well-known, speeches. Polonius' speeches to both Laertes and Ophelia are cut, for fuck's sake. And so later when Ophelia returns Hamlet's letters, people might wonder, "Why is she doing that?" The part where Polonius tells Claudius and Gertrude that he's discovered the reason for Hamlet's current state is also cut. So many cuts. Hell, this production has just one Player. How could one Player deliver 'The Mousetrap'?" you ask? Well, I'll tell you: very poorly.

But the cuts are not the worst of it. Far from the worst, in fact. Some words are changed, so "bare bodkin" becomes "bare dagger," for example. Maybe you're thinking that's not too serious. And maybe it isn't. But at one point, Hamlet actually calls Gertrude a "come dump," which is pretty far from what Shakespeare wrote, or even meant. I assumed I hadn't heard that correctly, and asked my friend Kate, who assured me that is what the asshole said. But long before that, we had to watch Hamlet and Horatio doing the swearing business regarding the Ghost. You probably remember that Hamlet makes Horatio swear upon his sword not to reveal what he has seen and heard. Well, in this play there are no swords. Can you guess what this terrible Hamlet refers to when mentioning his sword? Yes, he tells Horatio to suck his cock. I'm not kidding. Swearing upon the sword means sucking Hamlet's dick in this production. That was the moment when I started to loathe this production. But these assholes weren't done with their dick-sucking references. You might recall that wonderful scene from Shakespeare's play where Hamlet confronts Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, using the metaphor of the pipe. Well, here playing the pipe also becomes sucking Hamlet's dick. I kind of wish Robert O'Hara had just sucked Patrick Ball's cock in private and gotten this whole mess out of his system without having to attack the public with his juvenile garbage. This production isn't just bad, it is aggressively bad.

And that still isn't the worst of it. When you think they're about to get into the duel and end the goddamn pain for the audience, instead a detective or lawyer or... you know, it doesn't matter what he is. He has no business being in Hamlet. Anyway, this bastard enters and begins questioning Horatio about the final scene in some kind of pathetic attempt at deconstructing the play. And then it goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on. And it turns out Ophelia is still alive, having faked her death (seriously), and they begin to reenact scenes, but in modern language. (All of Ophelia's mad scenes were cut anyway.)  Somewhere in there, my friend Kate suggested we leave. I was tempted, but felt some perverse need to see how it ended. And it went on and on and on and on. And the characters started mentioning that Hamlet believed himself to be in a Shakespearean production. So in this world, suddenly, Shakespeare exists. If that's the case, shouldn't these characters be surprised that they all have names from one of Shakespeare's plays and seem to be living its plot? But no, they're not that self-aware. If you didn't hate all the characters before this, you certain despised them all now, which has to be the point. Robert O'Hara wants us all to hate Hamlet as much as he does, but what happens is that we just end up hating Robert O'Hara. It's clear he thinks he's smarter than Shakespeare, a better writer than Shakespeare. He isn't. He possesses not even the smallest fraction of talent that Shakespeare had. I hope to never again be subjected to anything this moron does.

Shakespeare References in Fahrenheit 451

It seemed a good time to revisit Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, and I found that it contains several Shakespeare references. The first play mentioned is Hamlet: "But many were those whose sole knowledge of Hamlet (you know the title certainly, Montag; it is probably only a faint rumor of a title to you, Mrs. Montag) whose sole knowledge, as I say, of Hamlet was a one-page digest in a book that claimed: now at last you can read all the classics; keep up with your neighbors" (p. 50). Next Bradbury mentions Shakespeare, having one character ask, "How many copies of Shakespeare and Plato?" (p. 67). Shakespeare is mentioned again ten pages later: "Oh, there are many actors alone who haven't acted Pirandello or Shaw or Shakespeare for years because their plays are too aware of the world" (p. 77). And then: "For these were the hands that had acted on their own, no part of him, here was where the conscience first manifested itself to snatch books, dart off with Job and Ruth and Willie Shakespeare, and now, in the firehouse, these hands seemed gloved with blood" (p. 95). A little later, a character says, "All's well that is well in the end" (p. 97), a variation of Shakespeare's All's Well That Ends Well. The book refers again to Shakespeare, and also to Julius Caesar: "Why don't you belch Shakespeare at me, you fumbling snob? 'There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, for I am arm'd so strong in honesty that they pass by me as an idle wind, which I respect not!' How's that?" (p. 105). That comes from a speech that Brutus delivers in the fourth act.

Fahrenheit 451 was published in 1953. The copy I read is from the 22nd printing, November 1970.

Love's Labour's Lost (Independent Shakespeare Company's 2025 Production) Theatre Review

It's summer in Los Angeles (isn't it always? you ask), and that means it's time for Shakespeare in the park. Griffith Park, that is. That is the summer home of the Independent Shakespeare Company, and last night they officially opened the season with Love's Labour's Lost, a comedy that focuses on love and attraction, and reminds us how love can strike us at any time, even when we are determined to avoid it. It also celebrates language and witty wordplay. These days when the world seems to lack the necessary portions of both love and wit, it is wonderful to be treated to these things in abundance, presented with the joy that we've come to expect from Independent Shakespeare Company performances. This production is directed by company co-founder David Melville, who also takes on the role of Costard, a clown.

Work has begun in earnest on the company's permanent stage in the park, which means that Love's Labour's Lost is being performed in that more intimate space farther up the hill (which is largely in the shade, by the way). It is performed in the round, the main platform straddling the dry creek and painted mostly green. A smaller, covered platform is located to the side, but the company makes great use of much of the space around these platforms as well as the platforms themselves, and there is some interaction with the audience. This is set up before the play begins, with members of the cast welcoming us to the Court of Navarre, and warning us that there are rules against "commingling with members of the opposite sex." And to show just what is meant, Costard and Jaquenetta (Diana Reyes) engage in a bit of hanky panky before being quickly interrupted and arrested, all done to piano accompaniment. Yes, this production adds a bit of a live score, with several instruments set up to one side of the main stage, a really nice touch that adds to the fun vibe.

The play begins with Ferdinand (Pierre Adeli, who was excellent as both Duke Frederick and Duke Senior in last year's As You Like It) imparting the rules for the course of study to be undertaken by himself and the three others - Berowne, Dumaine and Longaville. The swearing off the company of women being an important part. Dumaine (Patrick Batiste, who was wonderful as Ferdinand in 2021's The Tempest) and Longaville (Isaac Ybarra) have no hesitation in signing the document, but Berowne (Brent Charles) pauses. Part of the success of the play depends on the charisma of Berowne, and Brent Charles delivers a very cool Berowne, even sporting sunglasses early on, setting him apart from the others. And he's incredibly funny. He is someone the audience immediately connects with, which is important. And on his "meet some mistress fine," he picks out a woman in the audience to focus on. Much of the physical comedy is stylized, as when Ferdinand says "adieu" to Berowne, and all three directly turn their backs on Berowne. Much of the motion is choreographed in such a way as to give it a heightened sense of reality, as in a musical. When each receives his book, the men move to their various spots to read, Berowne choosing to join the audience, making it clear that he has different feelings about this endeavor, again setting him apart. He even puts the book over his face, which is interesting, because later all four will hold the books in front of their faces in vain attempts to keep from viewing the women.

Because the men have sworn off the company of women, the princess of France (Melissa Chalsma) and her ladies are not allowed inside the court, and instead are given lesser accommodations out of doors, which they are clearly not happy about. And a good deal of humor results, much of it in their expressions. Melissa Chalsma is particularly wonderful in that regard. Through costume, it is clear which woman will end up with which man. Berowne wears a red jacket, Dumaine a blue one, and Longaville a green one, and the women they will fall for incorporate the corresponding colors in their outfits, Katherine (Asha Noel Iyer) wearing a blue dress, Maria (Carene Rose Mekertichyan) in a green one. Rosaline (Jacqueline Misaye, who was fantastic as Rosalind in As You Like It) has a red wrap. This matching actually even extends to Armado and Jaquenetta, for the color of her shoe matches the feather in his hat. The costume designer is Garry Lennon.

This company has several actors who are particularly skilled at comedy. David Melville, as Costard, is one. His bit about the "remuneration" is especially hilarious. William Elsman, who plays Boyet, advisor to the Princess, is another. There is something funny even in the way he carries himself. And this season the company has added a new actor talented in this area, Bernado De Paula, who is making his ISC debut as Don Armado. Armado is delightful when professing his love, the only man here who is not reluctant to do so from the start. He holds his love's shoe on "which is baser," and for him that article is endowed with her charm. Jaquenetta for her part is a bold and straightforward woman who is well aware that she is desirable, and Diana Reyes does a great job in the role. Also quite funny is Daniel DeYoung as Holofernes, the schoolmaster. One of the production's funniest sequences is that of the "Muscovites," when the men come to the women in disguises that the women are able to see through without trouble (the men, when the women exchange jewelry, are not so adept at discovering the deception).

It's all about love, and we see how falling in love changes these characters. Especially wonderful is when the King enters dancing about, completely joyful in love. The world needs that kind of love, that kind of joy. Each of the men in turn enters, the others then hiding within the audience so as to not have their love discovered. They are hilarious when confronting each other. Berowne takes great joy in taunting the other three, until all realize that they suffer from the same great trouble. And then their tunes change. It is then that Berowne says, "From women's eyes this doctrine I derive:/They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;/They are the books, the arts, the academes/That show, contain and nourish all the world." And who can argue with that? It is interesting too, because it is ultimately the women who are in charge here. They decide the outcome of the play. Perhaps the best performances of the evening are by Melissa Chalsma as the Princess, and Jacqueline Misaye as Rosaline. The Princess' reply "No," to the question of dancing is hilarious, and then the moment when in the middle of chaos, she and the King begin a sweet dance is beautiful. I love how this play defies expectations. Comedies end with weddings and dances, but here there comes a sudden end to the joy, black mourning gowns halting the dance. And that is one of the performance's strongest moments, and one of its least expected.

This production of Love's Labour's Lost runs through July 27, 2025. Visit the Independent Shakespeare Company's website for the complete schedule. There is one intermission, which comes at the end of Act IV Scene ii. The performance is free, but donations are encouraged. There are also T-shirts, sweatshirts, and tote bags for sale, as well as food and drink. So there are plenty of ways to offer support. This is a time when the arts need all the support they can get.

Nice Girl (Rogue Machine's 2025 Production) Theatre Review

They say you can never go home again. But what if you never left? Would the natural growth and changes that should have occurred to both you and the place be impeded? And when is it too late to make those changes, to have that growth? In Nice Girl, written by Melissa Ross, Josephine Rosen is a 37-year-old woman who, apart from a few months of college, has never left home. She lives with her mother, Francine. With her twentieth high school reunion looming, she falls into an unexpected friendship with a coworker named Sherry and runs into an old classmate named Donny, who flirts with her, and these two events get her thinking about the possibility of change, that maybe it is not too late for her. Nice Girl was first produced a decade ago in New York, and is receiving its west coast premiere now at Rogue Machine Theatre, in the intimate upstairs space of the Henry Murray Stage. This production is directed by Ann Bronston, and stars Anaïs Fairweather as Josephine, Bailey Humiston as Sherry, Jeff Lorch as Donny, and Susan Peahl as Francine.

The set begins as a room in Francine's house, and is designed to make us feel a part of the world, for we are essentially in the room with the characters, the walls behind us being the walls of the room, with wallpaper and a window behind the folks stage left, and a turntable next to the people seated stage right. When Josephine and Francine enter, they are arguing, the kind of argument that reminds me of home. The play takes place in a suburb of Boston, and not the wealthy sort of suburb one might think of. And the argument is the sort that occurs between family members who spend perhaps too much time together. It is not long before Josephine threatens to leave. It is an empty threat, and Francine knows it. She replies, "Fine with me." We know it would not be fine with her, but feel that also perhaps a small part of her would want an end to what she labels as nagging. But then what would be left? What's important is that everything here is completely believable. We know these characters, and we like them immediately. We feel at home with them. And, because of the way the set is designed, we are at home with them.

When Sherry enters, the room becomes the break room at the office where she and Josephine work. And throughout the performance one room is quickly and convincingly transformed into several locations, including a butcher shop, a night club, and the porch outside of Josephine's home. Sherry is a ball of energy, the type that, if she allowed herself to stop for a moment, we fear would break down completely. She divulges personal information to Josephine, namely that she has learned the man she is dating is married and has kids. Josephine tries to keep up with the conversation, which is largely one-sided, and most of her responses seem to come out of kindness. But when Sherry describes her own situation as so depressing that she wants to kill herself, and adds, "Know what I mean," Josephine's "Yeah" is the first thing from her mouth that sounds totally sincere. Josephine has found an unlikely kindred spirit of sorts. So when Sherry declares they are going to say yes to everything, we in the audience begin to feel hope for Josephine.

When picking up food for that night, Josephine runs into an old high school classmate, Donny, who works as a butcher and is clearly having trouble dealing with his station in life. In addition to that dead-end job he has a marriage that is ending, but hasn't quite ended. He flirts somewhat awkwardly with Josephine, but that is enough for her to feel some spark, some life in her. Interestingly, early in that scene they discuss her troubles with veal, specifically that the meat is from babies that are taken away from their mothers. It is a hint that perhaps the reason for her still living at home is not entirely the fault of the mother, but something within herself. Neither she nor Donny is all that keen on going to the reunion at first, though both still feel a sort of pull toward it. Reunions generally cause folks to take a more critical look at their own lives, to compare where they are to where they had thought they'd be, something that is depressing for many people, as they come up terribly short. So what does one do when faced with such shortcomings? Blame someone else? Lie to people, telling them you're something you're not? It's a serious subject, and we in the audience can't help but think of our own lives, and the areas in which we have failed ourselves. We can't help but see ourselves in these characters. In a scene where Josephine is exercising, she tells her mother, "I'm not going anywhere," which is maybe the most heartbreaking line of all. This play would be terribly depressing if it weren't so damn funny, particularly its first half. This is the sort of the play that has the audience repeatedly laughing aloud.

A great deal of the joy of this play is due to the tremendous and captivating performances by all four members of the cast. There is not a single moment that doesn't ring true, because of their incredible talent, and each of these characters has difficult scenes. Perhaps because there is so much laughter, the scenes of ache and pain are all the more effective and affecting. Each of the characters is somewhat troubled, and the play does not offer easy solutions to any of them. Perhaps the most difficult scene is that where we learn Sherry, even though she's been betrayed by the man she's been dating, still wants to be with him. Normally we might expect a character in that situation to have gained enough pride in herself to lift her head and walk away. But that is just it: no one here is able to walk away. We might think of Josephine when early on she wonders if anyone is really happy. But maybe it is Francine's line to Josephine that stays with us, that life is not that bad.

Nice Girl runs through July 20, 2025. Visit the theater's website for the complete schedule. There is one short intermission. The scenic and lighting designer is Barbara Kallir. Sound design is by Christopher Moscatiello. Costume design is by Christine Cover Ferro. I should also mention the dialect coach, Lauren Lovett. I am from Massachusetts, and these actors totally nailed the dialect. Rogue Machine Theatre is located within the Matrix Theatre, at 7657 Melrose Ave. in Los Angeles, California.

Much Ado About Nothing (Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum 2025 Production) Theatre Review

The new season at the wonderful Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum has begun, kicking off with William Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing. In these days of division and misogyny and bigotry and deception, it makes perfect sense to turn to a comedy like Much Ado About Nothing, which is a love story, but also one that involves villainy, deceit and questions of trust, and where, after all that, everything turns out all right in the end. I think we need that, we need to believe things will turn out all right at the end. The theme for this season at the theatre is "A Season Of Resilience," and most of us are hopeful that this country will be able to recover from its current crisis, that people will be able to finally admit their mistakes.

This production of Much Ado is set in another period of deep division in our nation, the Civil War (though oddly the program lists the performance as taking place in Elizabethan era England), and even begins with some of the cast singing "When Johnny Comes Marching Home" (a song they return to periodically throughout the performance). A change in time period and place (in this case, from Sicily) necessitates some minor changes in the text, something I always have mixed feelings about (the "cinque-pace" becomes the "polka," and "the Great Cham's beard" becomes "Ulysses Grant's beard," and "tabor and the pipe" becomes "piano and the harp," for examples). Don Pedro (here renamed General Penn), Claudio (here Captain Claudio rather than Count Claudio) and Benedick (here Sergeant Benedick rather than Signior Benedick) are Union soldiers, with Don John on the side of the Confederacy ("John the bastard" becomes "John the rebel"). That heightens that sense of brother against brother that exists in the play, something that is talked about in any lesson on the Civil War, and perhaps gives Don John (Emoria Weidner) more reason for his hatred and villainy.

The two main relationships, however, are those between Beatrice (Willow Geer) and Benedick (Aaron Hendry), and Claudio (Kelvin Morales) and Hero (Audrey Forman), the first a couple that is playfully tricked into admitting their love for each other, the second a couple that is maliciously tricked into believing in one's infidelity to the other. The Beatrice/Benedick relationship is the one that audiences most often latch onto, in part because that is where most of the play's delightful humor lies. Willow Geer and Aaron Hendry deliver wonderful and often hilarious performances. Right from the start, Beatrice does a great job of showing her interest in Benedick while simultaneously expressing her distaste for him. And while she and Benedick speak center stage, Claudio and Hero clearly express love for each with looks from opposite ends of the stage. Claudio is quick to fall in love (and does so without any lines, not the easiest thing to get across), and is also later quick to believe the worst of his beloved, and shames her publicly. There are productions where Claudio is understandably not very likeable, but this Claudio is immediately endearing to us, which is important, so that we feel for him later. Both Kelvin Morales and Audrey Forman do remarkable jobs with roles that can sometimes feel secondary to the Beatrice and Benedick relationship. You might recall Kelvin Morales from his excellent work with the Independent Shakespeare Company (as Demetrius in 2023's Dream, as Malcolm in 2022's Macbeth, as Chiron in 2018's Titus Andronicus), and here he gives us a Claudio that we can't help but love. And we believe completely that he has fallen for Hero; we believe in love at first sight.
 
Of course it is the verbal sparring between Beatrice and Benedick that is the most enjoyable aspect of the play, and feels like the heart of the piece. Both characters love speaking, and appreciate others who also speak well, which is certainly part of their mutual attraction. Just listen to the way Benedick delivers the line "as being a professed tyrant to their sex," obviously taking great joy in his words. In their meaning, yes, but also in the words themselves. And that is a great deal of the joy for the audience as well. It is that, more than the physical comedy, that holds such appeal. Though, of course, there is plenty of wonderful physical comedy as well, particularly in the scenes where Benedick and Beatrice overhear their friends discussing how one loves the other. Benedick at first hides behind a plant at the gate, then, as he wants to better hear what is being said, moves the plant closer to the others. He then hides at the fountain, and even rolls off the stage in order to keep from being seen. The others watch all of his movements with delight. What is also wonderful about this scene is the way that Benedick turns to the audience at the end, his expression asking us to take his part before he delivers the line, "This can be no trick." His delivery of "will be horribly in love with her" is likewise hilarious. Beatrice, for her part, sneaks in from the woods off stage left, and is wonderful as she ducks down at the front of the stage. At one point, after unintentionally making a noise, she imitates the sound of a bird, just as Benedick had imitated a dog during his scene. Those little moments show that these two have more in common than they believe, a nice touch. Not only are Benedick and Beatrice excellent in their respective scenes, but those who are gulling them also excel here. Later, when Benedick says, "I am not as I have been," we hear the truth of those words in his delivery, the way his voice has changed. His voice changes again when he tells Beatrice, "I am engaged."

Gerald C. Rivers is fantastic as Dogberry, which probably comes as no surprise to anyone who saw him as Falstaff in The Merry Wives Of Windsor or Autolycus in last year's production of The Winter's Tale. He possesses a natural flair for comedy, and isn't just hilarious as Dogberry, but believable, his lines delivered with a certain dignity. It seems he even blushes when he says "If it pleases your worship to say so," pleased himself at being called tedious. Another of the production's strongest performances is that of Lynn Robert Berg as Don Pedro, here Major General Penn. His delivery of "Benedick is not the unhopefullest husband" is hilarious, the way he pauses before "unhopefullest," as if considering the most appropriate word to use there, and then choosing one that is barely a proper word at all. This is another role that does not often stand out, but Lynn Robert Berg does such a great job with it that the audience is drawn to him. When speaking to Don John, his delivery of "You know he does" shows that he knows his brother is not to be completely trusted. In that scene, he even grabs hold of Don John at one point. This is great because of course he should know his own brother, and it makes it all the harder on him when he learns that he's let his brother mislead him.

Claudio too is misled, and chooses to confront his bride in the ugliest, meanest way: at the altar on their wedding day, rather than before it, privately. Again, it's important that the audience truly likes Claudio early on, because otherwise this scene would be impossible for him to come back from. The reaction of Leonato (Tim Halligan) is excellent. Clearly he doesn't want to believe Claudio's accusation against his daughter, and we see the pain and sadness in his expression as it hits him that there might be truth in it. The Friar Francis of the text becomes Sister Frances (Shoshanna Green) in this production. For some reason, the advice offered by this character doesn't seem as believable coming from a nun as a priest, but then there is the added humor to her lines about concealing Hero in "some reclusive and religious life," since what she is suggesting is that Hero become a nun like her. Of course, it is all sorted out in the end. And these relationships - that between Beatrice and Benedick, and that between Claudio and Hero - give us some hope for the world at large, that problems can be worked out, that deception will be weeded out, that forgiveness is possible (though I do appreciate that Beatrice exhibits some remaining rancor toward Claudio at the end, as she forces him to his knees next to Hero). And there is the hope that everything will end with a dance.

This production of Much Ado About Nothing is directed by Ellen Geer, with costume design by A. Jeffrey Schoenberg, sound design by Lucas Fehring, and lighting design by Hayden Kirschbaum. There is one intermission, which comes at the end of Act III Scene ii. The play runs through September 13, 2025. Visit the theatre's website for the complete schedule. Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum is located at 1419 Topanga Canyon Blvd. in Topanga, California.

Shakespeare References in Monsieur Pamplemousse Afloat

Michael Bond's Monsieur Pamplemousse Afloat contains a few Shakespeare references. The first is a reference to The First Part Of King Henry The Fourth. Bond writes, "Discretion being the better part of valour, Monsieur Pamplemousse decided not to pursue the subject" (p. 58). That is a reference to Falstaff's line, "The better part of valor is discretion, in the which better part I have saved my life." The next reference is to As You Like It, with Monsieur Pamplemousse reciting, "Blow, blow thou winter wind, thou art not so unkind as man's ingratitude" (p. 114). That comes from a song in Act II Scene vii. Bond continues: "It was one of only two English quotations he could remember from his school days" (p. 114). The person Monsieur Pamplemousse is speaking with doesn't catch the reference, and so Pamplemousse says, "Shakespeare" (p. 115). The other character responds: "Yeah? I might have known. That's the kind of thing he would say" (p. 115). Interestingly, the other Shakespeare reference is not actually a Shakespeare reference at all, but a mistake by the author. Bond writes: "He was in the act of bracing himself when he recalled the other Shakespearean quotation he had learned as a boy. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'" (p. 163). That is not, in fact, a Shakespearean quotation. The line comes from a William Congreve play from the late 1600s. Bond then writes: "Monsieur Pamplemousse felt sure that had he found himself in a similar situation, Shakespeare would have reached very much the same conclusion. He might even have dreamed up a suitable quotation as he put his boot through the door" (p. 163).

Monsieur Pamplemousse Afloat was published in 1998.

Shakespeare Reference in Isaac Asimov Presents The Great SF Stories: 12 (1950)

Isaac Asimov Presents The Great SF Stories: 12 (1950) is, as its title tells us, a collection of science fiction stories from 1950. One of them, "The New Reality" by Charles L. Harness, contains a reference to Romeo And Juliet. Harness writes: "And why do you say the 'Einsteinian' universe? The universe by any other name is still the universe, isn't it" (p. 304). That is a reference to Juliet's speech from the balcony scene, where she says, "What's in a name? That which we call a rose/By any other word would smell as sweet." Many people quote the line as "By any other name," which is from the Q1 text, the bad quarto. This book was published in 1984.

Lear Redux (Odyssey Theatre Ensemble 2025 Production) Theatre Review

Lear Redux is a touching and fascinating adaptation of what many believe to be William Shakespeare's greatest work, King Lear, set in modern times but using much of Shakespeare's text in an ingenious and imaginative way. It was adapted and directed by John Farmanesh-Bocca, who in 2016 gave us Tempest Redux (following Pericles Redux and Titus Redux). The world premiere of the play opened this weekend at Odyssey Theatre. A few of the actors from Tempest Redux return for Lear Redux, including Jack Stehlin as Lear, Dennis Gersten as Kent, and Emily Yetter as Cordelia, along with Jade Sealey as Goneril, Eve Danzeisen as Regan, Ahkei Togun as Day Nurse/Edgar and Andres Velez as Night Nurse/Edmund.

Before the performance even begins, the set gives the audience the sense of a celebrated actor nearing the end of his life. A large bed is placed center stage, with a collection of pills on the bedside table and an IV stand next to that. Stage right there is a fireplace, above which is a large picture of Hamlet, with flowers on either side (and more flowers tossed in the fireplace). The Day Nurse is asleep on a chair stage left of the bed. Hanging on the headboard is a crown. When Lear enters, it is with a walker. He playfully acknowledges his younger self in the Hamlet picture, and also acknowledges the audience. When he gets to the bed, he goes through several death scenarios, triumphantly acting out what we worry might be actual and then inevitable, glancing at the audience mischievously and joyfully after each one, letting us know these presentations are for our enjoyment, almost like an aged Harold Chasen. These are stage deaths, ones he likely enacted before other audiences throughout his career. We are perhaps his final audience (the nurse sleeps through the performance). It is all done without dialogue, and it has the effect of endearing him to the audience, immediately putting the audience on his side, which is important.

The Night Nurse arrives, bearing more flowers, as does Lear's family, to celebrate his birthday. A surprising dance sequence commences as Lear relives earlier moments from his life, and this dance is wonderful and captivating and beautiful. It feels like Lear is orchestrating his memories, and what a blessing it would be to be able to do that. It is then that Lear begins to deliver his first speech from Shakespeare's play. The others play along. They know the play, they know their roles, it is clear they have done this before. And it is, after all, his birthday, so why not celebrate the way he wishes? And that's how it feels at first, like he has chosen this way to celebrate his birthday, like he is in control. Just as Lear seems to be in control at the beginning of Shakespeare's play. His bed is a strange sort of throne from which to command the action. As there is no Cornwall or Albany on stage, Lear finds these characters among those in the audience. When Goneril rises to deliver her first lines, she receives encouragement from her sister, who reminds her of the rhythm of iambic pentameter. Lear's younger brother takes on the role of Kent. Perhaps the most challenging role is that of Cordelia, as Cordelia is the name of Lear's dog. Emily Yetter does an excellent job maneuvering a large dog puppet while speaking lines that perhaps only Lear can hear, leading Goneril to ask, "He's talking to the dog now?" More disturbing to Goneril and Regan is that Lear has named the dog after their younger sister. Yet as the play progresses, and as reality becomes less solid, and memory mixes with theatre, Emily Yetter is both the dog and the daughter. There is a touching moment early when the others exit and Lear is left alone with Cordelia, both the dog and the lost daughter. The nurses become Burgundy and France, and they have to calm Lear, both as their patient and as the play's character, which is interesting. Early on, the line between the character of this play and the character of Shakespeare's play becomes blurred.

This play is also about how the children of famous people cope (or fail to cope) with their parents' fame, and includes a short section of filmed interviews with Goneril and Regan, wherein we learn the fate of Cordelia. This also gives us greater understanding of the two other daughters, not just in this play but perhaps in Shakespeare's play as well. And that is a tremendous gift. While Goneril and Regan do some horrible things in Shakespeare's play (especially Regan), I never felt that they started out as villains. Their worries and complaints early in the play have always struck me as valid and understandable. And put in the context of the famous parent, as is done clearly in this adaptation, it is difficult to not sympathize with them. Jade Sealey and Eve Danzeisen deliver incredibly strong performances. The moment when Goneril tells her father, "put away/These dispositions which of late transport you/From what you rightly are," this Goneril adds, "I know you are faking it." And we in the audience are struck by that line, wondering if that is precisely what Goneril is thinking in Shakespeare's play.

There is a dreamlike quality to the play, what with the beautifully choreographed dances and the way time seems to halt so that some action takes place outside of time. And that works wonderfully, because this is really, in a sense, all about one man. As a way of working through some unresolved problems in his life, he turns to the one thing he's always been able to rely on, the words of Shakespeare. The only thing that is perhaps unclear is why the Edgar/Edmund subplot takes hold of the action for a while, since that doesn't necessarily help Lear work through his past, his memories. Lear is not in those scenes in Shakespeare's play, and doesn't interact with those characters until he meets Edgar in the guise of Poor Tom. When the Night Nurse becomes Edmund, we no longer trust him. Is he inventing the story of jewelry stolen from another family?  Is he planning on taking money from this family? We are curious, but it doesn't really matter too much for the main thrust of the story. It feels more like a way for this production to keep as much of the King Lear story in place as possible rather than as a way for this character to come to grips with his past, to come to peace with it. Interestingly, the Day Nurse begins to call Lear "Nuncle," so taking on the part of the Fool as well. When Kent re-enters, he is not disguised, as in Shakespeare's play, but Lear fails to recognize him anyway. I've had some experience with dementia, and to not be recognized by a close family member is painful. Kent does his best to handle it in stride, but we can feel the ache within him. And he says that Lear reminds him of his big brother, and then, as Kent does in Shakespeare's play, he answers, "Authority," regarding what Lear has in his countenance. What is so interesting about this is that while the other characters first began acting out the play to humor Lear, it seems by now they are caught in its plot.

Any truly great performance of King Lear should have the audience in tears at certain key moments, and this play succeeds. Much of that is due to Jack Stehlin's outstanding performance as Lear. He is completely captivating from the moment he steps on stage, a performance of great tragedy but also great comedy. We feel for him from the beginning. What's interesting is that that does not mean we don't feel for the other characters, even when they are in direct opposition to him. A key example is when Lear and Goneril are arguing, and she accuses him of being responsible for Cordelia's demise. Lear then delivers his curse, "Into her womb convey sterility," which packs an even greater punch than usual, as Goneril is pregnant in this telling. But of course it is the reunion with Cordelia that is most emotionally affecting. It is a beautiful scene. Lear combines the "Do not laugh at me" speech with the "We two alone will sing like birds" speech. Something else interesting occurs near the end. Lear says that he wanted to know that he was loved, that he mattered, and that itself seems to be an answer to the question that many have asked about his action in Shakespeare's play demanding declarations of love from his daughters. And at the end, he does still have that which we call authority, for he is able to command us in the audience, "Look there! Look there!" And we do look to Cordelia, just as he does. We see what he sees. And when he tells us, "It's okay," it is our mortality that we think of. Somehow this play has made us come to terms with our own pasts, our own fears. And that is powerful.

This world premiere of Lear Redux runs through July 13, 2025. The performance is approximately ninety-five minutes and runs straight through, without intermission. The scenic design is by Mark Guirguis. The costume design is by Denise Blasor. Lighting design is by Bosco Flanagan, and sound design is by John Farmanesh-Bocca. Properties design is by Jenine MacDonald, and the puppet was designed by Eli Presser. Odyssey Theatre is located at 2055 S. Sepulveda Blvd., in Los Angeles, California.

The Glass Menagerie (Antaeus Theatre Company's 2025 Production) Theatre Review

Antaeus Theatre Company is closing its 2024/2025 season with an excellent production of Tennessee Williams' classic The Glass Menagerie, directed by Carolyn Ratteray, and starring Emily Goss as Laura Wingfield, Josh Odsess-Rubin as Tom Wingfield, Gigi Bermingham as Amanda Wingfield, and Alex Barlas as Jim O'Connor. This extraordinary cast brings the struggling family and its gentleman caller to life with riveting performances.

Some memories won't leave us alone. They demand to be replayed, to be worked through. Poets and playwrights have an advantage in that regard, being able to tackle these memories through their writing, as we presume the character Tom does in Tennessee Williams' play. And as Tennessee Williams himself seems to have done with this very play, the character Tom standing in for the playwright (Thomas was Tennessee's real name). Tom functions not just as a character but as the narrator, as our guide into the story of this family. And as memory is not always to be trusted, so too our narrator cannot be completely relied upon, and he tells us so straight away. "Yes, I have tricks in my pocket, I have things up my sleeve." We in the audience become immersed in a memory that is not our own, and we are conscious of the memory itself being manipulated. In part, that is because Tom tells us so at the beginning. But also it is because of the set design, the way words themselves are an integral part of the set. Words cover the floor of the stage, as well as two backdrops, so that the action takes place within a frame of language, of the written word. By the way, the words are such that we can't quite read them; rather, it is the sense of words, the idea of language that surrounds these characters. This also gives Amanda's line "I can see the handwriting on the wall" another layer. The scenic designer is Angela Balogh Calin. The other element that dominates the set is the large portrait that hangs from the ceiling upstage center, a portrait of Tom and Laura's absent father, a man who is referred to many times but who does not appear. His portrait gives us an idea of where Tom himself might eventually be heading.

The opening moments of the play, even before the first line is spoken, give us the sense that Tom is reliving a memory. When he sees his sister Laura enter, it is as if she's not fully there. He can't reach her, and in fact, can only reach her glass menagerie, which is placed downstage center, so that it is easily visible to all in the audience. It is an interesting moment, for the glass collection is more real than his sister, more tangible, functioning as a representation of her. So that moment carries with it the idea that this glass collection has outlasted his sister. It's a wonderfully unsettling way to introduce us to their troubled world. Tom then joins his mother and sister at the table, thus joining the action of the story, entering memory. And though it is his memory, his mother Amanda immediately takes over. What's interesting is that she herself becomes lost in memory as she describes the gentlemen callers she once received many years earlier. Her memories within his memory lead to one of her most vivacious moments. That itself is intriguing, because Tom is coming to grips with a memory, whereas Amanda seems happiest reliving her past, a past she wishes to recreate for her daughter, to give to her as perhaps her greatest gift, perhaps her only gift. All three of these people seem lost, damaged, and ready to scream.

Another way in which the father is present in their lives is through the records he has left behind, records that Laura enjoys playing. Apart from collecting glass figurines, it is the only thing she has been doing with her life. Early on, Tom comments on how memory always seems to happen to music, so it is interesting that the absent character is the one who essentially provides that music. In a way, he is more present in their lives than they themselves seem to be. The phonograph player is located upstage near his portrait, adding to the sense that he is providing the music. And there is the subtle question of whether these memories could be relived without those records, again adding to the importance of the absent father. Tom himself is often absent from the home, going to the movies night after night, though Amanda does not believe that is truly how he spends his time. Josh Odsess-Rubin is wonderful throughout the performance, but is particularly good as he imagines a great criminal life for himself, jokingly creating one which might very well be a character he picked up from the movies. It is a time when he imagines a more exciting life for himself. What is especially interesting about that scene is that there is a moment at the start of that speech where it seems he is considering telling his mother the truth, opening up to her. But then he gets rolling, and takes great delight in the yarn he spins.

There is a good amount of comedy to this play. I often forget just how many laughs this play provides. Many of these laughs come in the interactions between Amanda and Tom, and in Tom's reactions to her. "Her not speaking, is that such a tragedy?" he quips to Laura about their mother. And Amanda's line about the future becoming the present, the present becoming the past, and "the past turns into everlasting regret" receives a strong laugh, as does her line to Laura, "This is the prettiest you will ever be." She means it kindly, but there is an unmistakable harshness to it, though perhaps that is because we can sense the truth in it. Laura is left alone for a brief time then to study her image in the mirror (we in the audience are in essence her mirror), a wonderful moment. It is a moment of possibilities, before the reality of the gentleman caller enters.

Jim O'Connor, the gentleman caller, is an interesting character, and while Tom had earlier described him as "the most realistic character in the play," we do get the impression that he is acting a part. Having studied public speaking, he seems to be trying out some of what he has learned, and also not quite realizing the sort of dysfunction he has stepped into. But when things seem to be going right for Laura and him, there is an almost magical tone to the action. That is, once Laura has finally given herself to the moment, trusting in it, in its reality, in her part in it. And that makes us feel that this might be her only chance. And so there is a sad beauty to the scene. She is especially delightful when she tells Jim, regarding her glass figurines, "I haven't heard any arguments among them." It is then she is at her lightest, and she even takes some joy in having told a joke. It is in that moment especially that we in the audience want for her what Amanda wants for her. Though there is much comedy to the play, there is still a darkness that runs through it. Early in the play, Amanda asks, "What is going to become of us? What is the future?" It's actually a funny moment, yet at the end of the play, we may be wondering that very thing. The play's lack of optimism for the future really speaks to us in these dark days of our own. This is a production that will stay with us, playing in our own memories long after the lights go up.

The Glass Menagerie runs through June 2, 2025. See the theatre's website for the complete schedule. There is one brief intermission. The theatre is located at 110 East Broadway in Glendale, California.

Shakespeare Reference in The Holland Suggestions

John Dunning's novel The Holland Suggestions contains a Shakespeare reference. Dunning writes: "I felt a stupid flush of teenage jealousy that was annoying and at the same time intriguing. No woman had roused that green-eyed monster in me in more than fifteen years" (p. 109). That's a reference to Iago's speech from Act III Scene iii of Othello, "O, beware, my lord, of jealousy!/It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock/The meat it feeds on."

The Holland Suggestions was originally published in 1975. The copy I read was the Pocket Books edition from 1997, which includes a new introduction by the author.

Shakespeare References in Irish Girls About Town

Irish Girls About Town is a collection of short stories written by various female Irish authors. A few of the stories contain Shakespeare references, and interestingly all of those references are to Hamlet. The first reference appears in the story "Soulmates," written by Marian Keyes. Keyes writes, "The times people said, 'Don't you think Georgia and Joel are just too devoted? Methinks they do protest too much,' became fewer and fewer" (p. 14). That refers to Gertrude's line, regarding one of the players, "The lady doth protest too much, methinks." The next two references appear in a story titled "Girls' Weekend," written by Marisa Mackle. Mackle writes, "So I know it might sound like I'm being a bit of a prick, but I'm just being cruel to be kind" (p. 329). Hamlet says to Gertrude, "I must be cruel only to be kind/This bad begins, and worse remains behind." A little later in "Girls' Weekend," another character says, "Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind, do you know what I mean?" (p. 331). The final Shakespeare reference of the book comes in the story titled "The Union Man," written by Tina Reilly. Reilly writes, "Hoisted by my own petard" and then a few lines later, "Blown apart by my own petard" (p. 356). Hamlet, in that same scene with Queen Gertrude, says, "Let it work,/For 'tis the sport to have the enginer/Hoist with his own petard."

Irish Girls About Town was published in 2002.

Tasty Little Rabbit (Moving Arts 2025 Production) Theatre Review

The political climate of the 1930s has been very much on the minds of anyone who has been paying even the slightest bit of attention to current events, particularly in this country. Who would have thought fascism would come to the United States and be completely embraced by one of its two major political parties? But here it is. Tasty Little Rabbit, a fascinating new play written by Tom Jacobson, takes us out of this country and this time, its action set in Sicily in 1936 (the time of Mussolini), and in 1897. Based on a true story, this play deals with fascism and the suppression of artistic expression, focusing on the actual case of the seizure and destruction of the negatives of photographer Wilhelm Von Gloeden, as well as the creation of some of those very photos in 1897. The play stars Robert Mammana as Wilhelm Von Gloeden, Massi Pregoni as Pancrazio Buciuni (the subject of many of his photos), and Rob Nagle as Sebastian Melmoth, a writer who is visiting Von Gloeden. Robert Mammana and Rob Nagle also play different characters in the 1936 scenes, Mammana as Podesta Cesare Acrosso, and Nagle as fascist official Francesco Maffiotti. The current production at Moving Arts is the play's world premiere, and it is directed by George Bamber.

This might come as a surprise, given the subject, but there is a good deal of humor in this play. And we are clued in to that fact during what has become a routine announcement before performances, that photography and recording are prohibited. Here we are told they are "strictly prohibited and punishable by death" by "order of the podesta." And as the play begins, the podesta (Robert Mammana) directly addresses the audience, telling us, "Individuality is a myth." He says it with such authority. It's an interesting way to set things in motion, for the very first line gets us thinking about free will and power over our own lives. What really does cause us to make each decision we make? For most of us, the idea of individuality being a myth is frightening, and something within us instinctively braces against the idea, and so against the character giving it voice. The set, by the way, includes two screens, which are used to great effect throughout the performance. When the audience enters, one of the screens shows a bay, helping to place us in the scene. But during the opening speech, different photos are shown, photos of statues of Rome. And soon we come to the question of pornography, a central question of the play. What constitutes pornography? Who should be the judge of that? And what should be done with images deemed pornographic?

Pancrazio Buciuni (Massi Pregoni) is under investigation, for he has come into ownership of the photographs in question, photographs in which he himself is often the subject, as well as the entire photography business, and he has taken some pictures of his own too. The photographs are now considered pornography by the fascist regime, depicting, as many of them do, nude men in classical poses. When he admits that there is one time he did something of which he is ashamed, the investigation focuses on that time, and the action shifts to December 1897, when he was eighteen. His relationship with the photographer becomes clear, especially through the interactions with a visiting writer who is interested in getting some photographs of his own. That writer, Sebastian Melmoth (Rob Nagle, who was excellent as Toby in a recent production of Twelfth Night), takes great pleasure in helping to pose the young Pancrazio, and perhaps even more pleasure in educating the young man regarding mythology and history. There is a good deal of joy to his character, to his actions, but with a greater, deeper misery that we begin to sense underneath, as well as a longing. And when he says that he once was beloved, we can't help but think of Sir Andrew's line from Twelfth Night. Von Gloeden tells Pancrazio that their guest is very famous, and we in the audience begin to guess his true identity early on.

There is an intriguing love triangle among the characters, and there is a question of how much of a say Pancrazio has regarding his own actions, not because individuality is indeed a myth, but in part because he feels he owes much to Von Gloeden. There is also clearly an economic element to his position. He does, however, stand up for himself at times, and it is one of those times that gives the play its title, with Pancrazio saying, "You are offering me to him like a tasty little rabbit." Interestingly, Pancrazio breaks from the action occasionally to address the audience directly, and in those moments we can't help but feel that we are part of the inquisition into the photographs and his possible guilt not just in possessing them, but in his part in creating them, that we are in a position of judgment. And it places us in both time periods simultaneously. The action, by the way, moves with ease between the two time periods, and it is never confusing where and when we are, and which characters are being portrayed. These transitions are done quickly, with minimal changes in costume, so the whole thing has a very fluid feel, to the point where it almost doesn't matter what year we are in. There is the sense of a great continuum, a conversation that bridges the decades, not just between 1897 and 1936, but between then and our time.

The play touches on the fact that social norms and mores change over time. Sebastian says at one point, "Today's blasphemy is tomorrow's orthodoxy." It's a funny line, and true. There is the unfortunate implication that for some people, many people perhaps, the change from blasphemy doesn't come soon enough. It comes out in the dialogue that Sebastian spent time in prison for his sexual orientation. What's interesting is that long before the end of the play, the question of what constitutes pornography ceases to concern us. For it is the characters that we care about now, and their personal stakes in the issue rather than the issue itself. And we find our allegiance shifting throughout the performance, from character to character. This is in part because of the excellent, riveting performances by all three actors. And though Rob Nagel might seem a tad older than the forty-three years of the writer he plays, he gives such a delightful and nuanced performance that it doesn't matter. In fact, one of the most powerful and moving moments of the play is on his delivery of the line "Why? Why did you let go?" This play also has moments of touching beauty.

Toward the end, Pancrazio, facing out to the audience, says, "Government officials cannot judge art." And so we have become the government officials, we have become the judges, whether we wish it or not. And by then, we likely have no desire to act as judge, and would distrust anyone that does.

Tasty Little Rabbit runs through June 6, 2025. See the theatre's website for the complete schedule. The play is approximately ninety minutes, and runs straight through without intermission. Moving Arts is located at 3191 Casitas Ave. in Los Angeles. There is a free parking lot next to the theatre.

Shakespeare References in Death In Venice And Seven Other Stories

Thomas Mann's Death In Venice And Seven Other Stories contains several Shakespeare references. Most of them occur in the story "Tonio Kröger," and all of the references within that story are to Hamlet. Mann writes: "That is Horatio's answer, dear Lisabeta. 'Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so'" (p. 101). There the character is quoting one of Horatio's lines from Act V scene i. Next Mann writes: "Such was the case of Hamlet the Dane, that typical literary man. He knew what it meant to be called to knowledge without being born to it. To see things clear, if even through your tears, to recognize, notice, observe - and have to put it all down with a smile, at the very moment when hands are clinging, and lips meeting, and the human gaze is blinded with feeling - it is infamous, Lisabeta, it is indecent, outrageous" (p. 102). Mann then writes, "but don't you find, Lisabeta, that I have quite a Hamlet-like flow of oratory today" (p. 106). And then: "I want to stand on the terrace at Kronberg, where the ghost appeared to Hamlet, bringing despair and death to that poor, noble-souled youth" (p. 107). Two other stories contain references to Shakespeare. In "A Man And His Dog," Mann writes, "The name of the street where I was walking was Shakespeare Street" (p. 252). And in Felix Krull, Mann writes, "But when they were over and I resumed my dull and ordinary dress, how stale, flat and unprofitable seemed all the world by contrast, in what deep dejection did I spend the rest of the evening" (p. 376). Yes, another Hamlet reference. In Hamlet's first soliloquy, he says, "How stale, flat and unprofitable/Seem to me all the uses of this world."

Death In Venice And Seven Other Stories was published in 1930, 1931 and 1936. The edition I read was published, I believe, in 1963.

Shakespeare Reference in The Crucible

Arthur Miller's The Crucible contains a reference to Hamlet, which comes in the notes at the beginning of Act One. Miller writes, "The times, to their eyes, must have been out of joint, and to the common folk must have seemed as insoluble and complicated as do ours today" (p. 4). The phrase "time is out of joint" is spoken by Hamlet at the end of Act I Scene v. He says, "And still your fingers on your lips, I pray./The time is out of joint. O cursed spite/That ever I was born to set it right!"

My copy of The Crucible was the special book club edition, the Bantam Book edition, printed in 1981.

Corktown '39 (Rogue Machine's 2025 Production) Theatre Review

The Rogue Machine Theatre (located within the Matrix Theatre) is currently hosting the world premiere of Corktown '39, a powerful and often funny play that centers on a family of Irish immigrants and their involvement in the struggle for an independent Ireland. It takes place in an Irish section of Philadelphia in the days just before World War II, a time that has been on the minds of many people in this country lately, as certain parallels are too striking and frightening to ignore (those parallels were not lost on the audience at Sunday's performance). The play is part political thriller, part family drama, and it deals with questions of authority in both realms. It was written by John Fazakerley, who also wrote Corktown '57, which premiered a decade ago. This new play is a prequel to that one, though you don't need to have seen that play to enjoy and appreciate this one. One of the major draws, at least for me, is the participation of Peter Van Norden, who plays Joe McGarrity, a character we hear a lot about before meeting. Peter Van Norden in 2022 gave the best Polonius I've ever seen in any medium. He is an extraordinary talent, though, truly, the entire cast of this production is excellent, with a particularly riveting performance given by Ann Noble as Kate. Another draw is the subject matter itself.

Almost the entire play (with the exception of one brief scene) takes place within the parlor of the home of Mike Keating (Ron Bottitta, known to television viewers for his roles in Lost, Suspense and Criminal Minds). The set (designed by Mark Mendelson) has a fairly warm feel to it, with wood, carpets and thick drapes, and a chaise lounge at its center. A large radio set is upstage center. There is a welcoming vibe to this home, though the stage left section is where certain business is conducted, adding a different element. And we soon learn that this home is actually mostly about business, that business being the aid to fellow Irish people, done through a variety of means. "No need to thank me," Mike says to someone on the phone early in the play. "We look after our own." Looking after one's own people is something that initially sounds commendable, laudable; but as the play goes on, and we learn that looking after one's own might mean putting other innocent people in danger, our thoughts are not so clear on the subject. The family is going to be hosting the head of the IRA and a man brought in to carry out an assassination plot.

There is a lot of humor, particularly in the opening scene, as when we learn that Mike's daughter Kate is dating a cousin, Tim Flynn (Thomas Vincent Kelly, known for his work on 24 as well as appearances on JAG and The Closer), and Mike worries what will happen if she gets pregnant. We have enough idiots in the family already, he reminds her. But beneath the humor, something very serious is unfolding. The fact that there is such humor makes the whole thing all the more real, and perhaps the more sinister. The radio set does play a part in the performance, and as a recording of "God Bless America" comes on, we see Mike strapping on a pistol before the lights fade out, a striking image. When the action resumes, the radio is broadcasting an unsettling speech. Martin Connor (Jeff Lorch), the man hired for a job he is as yet unaware of, asks Mike's son Frank (Tommy McCabe) how they let people spew such fascist garbage on the radio. "Welcome to America," Frank replies. That is a line that received an audible reaction from the audience. A segment of this country did support Hitler and the Nazis in the 1930s, just as a segment of the country now embraces the fascism of Trump and his gang of rat bastards. This play is based on a true story, and the history of it is fascinating (such as the fact that the Irish largely supported the fascists in Spain, and were possibly supporting Hitler as well). But how it applies to our current situation is also part of what intrigues the audience.

Tim Flynn is a rather joyful character that the audience immediately likes and identifies with. He provides a voice of reason, a voice of caution, a voice of humanity, and we can't help but wonder if there is such a voice in the current administration of this country. It is through this character that the main question of the play is posed, which is how far can you go in the name of a good and just cause before you too become a villain. JD Cullum (who had parts on Grey's Anatomy and Bones, and who gave a really good performance as Caliban in 2023) plays Sean Russell, the IRA leader who is one of the faces of power in this story. And he uses his position even to try to force himself on Kate, at which point all sympathy the audience had for him disintegrates. Frank steps in to defend his sister, and Mike is clearly torn, which is fascinating. We want to like him, we want for him to stand up for his own daughter. And when he doesn't, we know that he is capable of dark deeds. Or at least that he will stand by while they are committed, which is almost just as bad. The other face of power, though we learn a waning power, is Joe McGarrity, a man who has become more reasonable in recent days. "When you find out you're dying, you rethink your positions," he says at one point. We can't help but wonder if that's what it takes, again applying the tale of this play to the nation's current situation. But he is also naive, offering the opinion that the courts in Germany will sort things out, something we hear uttered a lot in this country now. Are we too being naive?

The person caught in the middle of everything is Martin, who is at first prepared to go through with the plot, but who begins to have doubts. Kate too, as she becomes romantically involved with Martin, has to question a position she's never questioned before. And, even more difficult for her, has to question her father. This play is fascinating and frightening, with a powerful conclusion you won't likely forget. And the phenomenal cast makes this a production you won't want to miss.

Corktown '39 is directed by Steven Robman, who has a long list of credits both in the theatre and on television. The performance is approximately an hour and forty-five minutes and plays without intermission. The play runs through May 25, 2025. Visit the theatre's website for the complete schedule. The Matrix Theatre is located at 7657 Melrose Ave. in Los Angeles, California. There is no parking lot, but there is a good amount of street parking.

Shakespeare References in Mrs. Pargeter’s Pound Of Flesh

Simon Brett’s mystery novel Mrs. Pargeter’s Pound Of Flesh contains a few Shakespeare references. The first, obviously, is in the very title of the book, which is a reference to The Merchant Of Venice, and specifically to Shylock’s bond. That title is what drew me to the book in the first place. The first reference within the book’s pages, however, is not to Merchant, but to Hamlet. Simon Brett writes: “But Mrs. Pargeter had interrupted him firmly, insisting she always would pay for everything. ‘Neither a lender nor a borrower be,’ she had said, quoting another of the late Mr. Pargeter’s regular sayings (though he may perhaps have borrowed that one from someone else)” (p. 76). Yes, indeed he did. The line is part of the advice that Polonius gives to Laertes.in the play’s first act. It isn’t until near the end of the book that Simon Brett refers to The Merchant Of Venice, writing “Shylock was not more pertinacious in his demands than she in her determination to settle scores with Julian Embridge” (p. 197). And then: “His betrayal of the late Mr. Pargeter was avenged. Mrs. Pargeter had her pound of flesh” (p. 204).

Mrs. Pargater’s Pound Of Flesh was published in 1992. My copy was the hardcover edition.