Sunday, May 25, 2025

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.

Sunday, May 11, 2025

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.

Thursday, May 8, 2025

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.

Monday, May 5, 2025

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.

Saturday, April 26, 2025

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.

Friday, April 25, 2025

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.