Reviewed by Christian Graysen

Unless you’ve been living in outer space for the last few years, you know that every industry that had a “boom” is now going “bust.” For further evidence, there’s Genesis Repertory’s production of The Check Is In The Mail for the 13th Annual Fringe Festival. This high-speed one-act gives us an eye-in-keyhole view of the travails of a once flourishing business, now suffering due to one stupid move.

Playwright Robert Liebowitz once again hands us a well-written play spoken by the people for the people. Two Fringes ago, he put family matters in The Twilight Zone with the ghost story, The Wisdom That Men Seek. In this case, Check is the story of two partners in a prosperous printing firm (Allen Lewis Rickman and Jay Michaels) who made their first million in the days when business was run on cocktail lunches, a working knowledge of Yiddish and ribald humor, and a healthy dose of misogyny. The aforementioned stupid move was from founder, Leon Lipkin (Rickman), shortchanging star salesperson Janet Kupper (Cynthia Granville). Kupper instantly quits and sends the company into a tailspin with no way out … except one.

The cast is a group of seasoned pros and fresh faces: Allen Lewis Rickman and Jay Michaels as partners Leon Lipkin and Jerry Case, respectively, are enthralling. At once Bialystock & Bloom, then Felix & Oscar, Laurel & Hardy, Jekyll & Hyde, then Hyde & Hyde, the two banter almost non-stop for 70 minutes with humorous kibitzing giving way to dark accusations and devastating plot twists with Michaels excellently carrying the lion’s share of maneuvering the plot through all its sharp turns. Cynthia Granville deftly plays salesperson Janet with a world-weary air while maintaining a vulnerability needed to carry the subplot involving her relationship to Leon. Completing the quorum is Francis Callahan as Tommy, the lawyer for the unlawful. Callahan imbues Tommy with a savage persona then covers it with a lilting tenor tone. A perfect wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Populating the office was a bevy of supporting players whose countenance served as commentary for the action. Theresa Chow as Jerry’s officious assistant played the admin-afraid-of-losing-her-job with grace; Domenick Petito, stone-faced and imposing, as Cavanaugh’s right arm; and Kristin O’Blessin, the light comedy of this dark comedy as Helen, the befuddled office manager. O’Blessin’s presence turned her scenes with the two partners into a vaudeville routine prompting high-pitched screams from Rickman and old-fashioned double-takes from Michaels. O’Blessin then joined the dance trio for top-notch routines. That is not a typo, there are dance routines.

The play by itself is lively and engrossing but in the hands of director Mary Elizabeth MiCari (that’s right a female director for a play about chauvinistic white men) it is turned into an inspired piece of theatre. Injecting modern music, eerie lighting, and surreal dance breaks that seemed to both sum up and foretell, MiCari turned a naturalistic play into an ancient parable of hubris. Three dancers (O’Blessin, veteran dancer/choreographer Joyce A. Adams, and the fleet-footed Stefanie Smith, memorable as Leon’s less-than-perfect date) tapped, swayed, clogged, and marched to the beat of tunes played under foreboding newscasts of world affairs spoken by actual announcers from WPLJ. The company prides itself on finding ancient markings within all art and MiCari (the company’s new artistic director) outdid herself. The dancers were pagan priestesses, Greek chorines, or Macbethian witches, take your choice.

Technically, the show proved that less is more. Two desks made different by a soup of character driven props were all that was provided. While you might have wanted Leon to have an old woody desk and Jerry some modern piece of glass; the old monitor and chatkies on Leon’s desk told his tale while Jerry’s laptop, prescription pill buffet and stone statue summarized him. Likewise were the costumes. Jerry’s pinstripes battled the rumpled brown of Leon, with Janet in basic black and Tommy, a Clarence Darrow knockoff. Genesis’s crew – Shauna K. Smart from Hunter and Andrew Liebowitz from Brooklyn College (from the company internship program) – led by stage manager Robyn Gabrielle Lee, handled the lighting set-up, precision light and sound cues with ease.

Genesis Repertory is a parable of these changing times in and of itself. Once owners of the Jan Hus Playhouse, the company survived its lean years coupling with colleges and arts programs. Now a decade old, it can take its place as a fixture of the New York independent theatre scene, always presenting worthy works. This fall it begins work in its new 350 theatre in Brooklyn.

The Fringe – ironically – also is a parable. After 13 years, the Fringe is no longer the innovators but the competitor, with Fringes and Fringe-style Fests cropping up from Brooklyn to the Berkshires. But with clients like Genesis remaining loyal to the company store, New York will always have Fringe benefits.

The Check Is In the Mail has one more weekend – August 29 & 30. Go to www.fringenyc.org for details.

The expression “history is written by the winners” can be interpreted for theater productions as “works that are affordable are remembered.” Encores got a hold on countless musicals teetering on the brink of obscurity and gave them life, now the Readers’ Ensemble Company does the same for straight comedies and dramas. This new group dedicates itself to finding and presenting, in de-constructed format, works that are either not done or can’t afford to be done anymore. The latter case fits their second entry in a four-play series – The Madwoman of Chaillot. We’ve all heard of this play, we may have seen it in a university setting, but when was the last time you saw a 24-character play performed on, or directly off, Broadway?

Director J. Michaels gave himself every obstacle in this Jean Giraudoux surreal comedy written as a response to World War II. A staged reading is tricky – daunting when done by two-dozen actors. He added performance elements (a dancing deaf mute, masque work – albeit very simple, and touches of modernization like a Spanish-speaking flower seller and a yuppie stock broker). His gamble paid off as the evening yielded a fine show.

The play opens in cartoon fashion with a President, Baron, Broker, and Prospector (Nick Fondulis, M. Alan Haley, John Stillwaggon, and Michaels himself, respectfully) gleefully chatting about their wealth, how to get more, and the middle and lower classes whom they disdain. Fondulis supplies us with an excellent mixture of mustache twirling villainy while keeping things real enough to make us think of every bank president across the country today, he is complimented by Haley’s confused aesthete of a baron, willing to sell his name to make money. The electricity was turned-up tenfold by Stillwaggon’s high-speed banter and game show host smile as the broker. J. Michaels added to the humor as a humorless old hermit prospector, deadpanning around the three corporate stooges.

They are greeted by the titular character, Countess Aurelia, the Madwoman of Chaillot. The casting choice was spot-on with Sheila Mart. Ms. Mart’s majestic presence in a tiny frame epitomized the character. Her staccato delivery fooled the audience by alternating between doddering and ingenuous. This allowed us to follow her down her rabbit hole (literally) to the play’s surreal conclusion.

There are also lovers (of course). The innocent, not-from-these-parts, Irma (played by Brianna Carlson-Goodman) and the repentant juvenile Pierre (Jim deProphetis). Carlson-Goodman and deProphetis played off of each other well, sharing innocence and pain, love and loss. Carlson-Goodman’s Act I monologue was a refreshing moment of clarity, while deProphetis’ scenes with Aurelia were charming and engrossing.

The financial wizards are forced to do battle with a cacophony of tradesmen and vagrants including a sassy waitress (played with great vigor by Sara Minisquero), a Latina flower seller (played in Spanish by Jessica Real-Mohr, whose gestures allowed even the most dense to understand her dialog), a lunatic foot doctor (Tracy Lipson doing her best impression of a 3 a.m. infomercial), two wacky policemen (Josh Silverman, hilarious as a new cop on the beat, and John Payne, truly funny and commanding as an old-fashioned beat cop complete with brogue) all led by an urban Ragpicker, played by Lorenzo Valoy. Valoy’s high energy and inventive delivery as the bearer of bad news in Act I and fire and brimstone channeling of all the evil of the world in Act II were high-points of the evening.

Act II brings a group of new characters. A sewer man (played with surreal joy by Robert Saunders) who thinks he’s a stand-up comic; three other madwomen: Constance (Dana A. Iannuzzi), whose choice of puppet dog over invisible dog – how it is normally played – was inspired; Gabrielle (Carla Kelly), an innocent chanteuse with an overactive libido, whose facial expressions and strange noises were a source of great humor, and the commanding Josephine (queenly played by Theresa Chow). Chow manages to make some of the play’s most absurd dialog sound totally logical.

Wide-eyed, tattered, and diminutive, teenager Adele Wendt – a trained ballerina – danced her lines (another inspired touch) as the deaf mute, adding a new dimension to this reading. Her frenetic “conversations” with Irma were a witty diversion and her Act I “ballet” (choreographed by Joyce A. Adams) became the play’s parable – the smallest flower can have the deepest soul.

Producers Dana A. Iannuzzi and Justin Flagg are to be commended for making possible a series that includes a rare George Bernard Shaw one-act (last week’s Press Cuttings), a Russian work made famous by Lon Chaney (next week’s He Who Gets Slapped) and rising star Lynn Nottage’s African-American drama, Intimate Apparel, which closes the festival. The small, warm theater chosen for the presentations might be an indication of an austere budget – a fitting parable as to why certain plays are allowed to vanish.

The festival is at University of the Streets on East 7th Street.

For more details log on to readersensemblecompany.org

For as long as there was – well – anything, there was art and artists. Maybe it was a cave painting to document a hunt, maybe it was ornate uniforms to strike awe in the hearts of adversaries, maybe it was fire-and-brimstone preachers of any and all faiths… or maybe it was children dancing to celebrate holiday and harvest. Nonetheless, there was always art and the finest came from real people like you and me.

J’s New Dance Center, the little studio that could – and has – for more than 20 years presented its annual dance recital this past weekend to thunderous – and well-deserved – applause.

The J in J’s belongs to Joyce Beck – a theatre and film dancer with credentials including All That Jazz – runs a thriving studio on Fifth Avenue and 74th Street in Bay Ridge Brooklyn that gives – what looked like – 100 students a chance at self-expression, and that is what theatre truly is intended to do.

The production opens with a sweet-voiced announcement regarding what you would expect – “turn off cellular phones, no flash pictures, etc.,” to the clever – “don’t stand up, your head will ruin our video.”

Then the fun began.

Down the aisle came some of Miss Joyce’s adult students in a rendition of the traveling number from Kiss Me Kate. Nice touch having the dancers in the aisle, also a clever beginning, setting the tone of a vaudeville-like presentation. There is a sense of separation once the performer is bathed in the light of the stage but there, neighbor dancing inches from neighbor, the electricity was more evenly shared. The audience then settled back to nearly 50 different dance pieces – from the cutest baby ballerinas and tapers dancing to melt your heart (one little exuberant girl sang the words to the song to which she was dancing at the top of her lungs) to impressive feats of acrobatics mixed with dance moves, to adults executing intricate classical ballet steps with really amazing precision.

The music was eclectic with Broadway standards following 50s ditties then countering with a modern piece, then Mozart, then children’s favorites (even Paddy Cake).  Dance styles also followed this eclectic scheme: tap, jazz, salsa, ballet, Pointe, acrobatics, barre work, etc. And while some studios might boast such a roster, the unique juxtaposition of music with the dance styles made for a lively and interesting evening. To hear a cutting edge modern tune done with barre work, or see tap-dancing cowboys, or listen to a 50s standard while jazz and acrobatic styles cover the stage was a true step above. Several performers seemed to master many styles including one omnipresent young woman whose stature might lend you to think that she is not a dancer but her amazing physical prowess and fleet-footed ease at every style displayed is a standing tribute to her talent and drive – and to the masterful teachers at J’s Dance Center.

Glimpses of other programs appeared in the production as well. Broadway performers Mary & Jay – whose voice and acting program is rapidly gaining ground in Brooklyn – sang a Broadway ditty as a warm up for the grand finale of Act I and Tara, the belly dance teacher wiggled and floated across the entire stage, she was framed nicely against the company’s Sgt Pepper-like psychedelic background. This was a lively portion in Act II. Tara is a professional belly dancer who tours the tri-state area and beyond and Mary and Jay run Genesis Repertory, a Manhattan-based theatre company now opening an office in Bay Ridge. Miss Mary has a long list of Broadway credentials and one of the most powerful natural voices you’re likely to hear in such a setting. She struck a striking presence in a black retro gown.

Each act also featured an appearance by the arbiters of the weekend-long event. Act I featured a power-packed routine laced with modern dance and sharp jazz styling by the agile Miss Joan and the second act solo by Miss Joyce herself, in which the dance veteran brought down the house with a high-steppin’ routine filled with jazz and tap that could have easily been pulled from a Broadway show. It is easy to see why everyone from babies to baby-boomers were able to make everything look easy.

The funniest performers of the evening were the parents and grandparents. They, too, seemed to learn dance from Miss Joyce and Joan. The sight of their children, nieces & nephews, siblings, and grandchildren dancing in stunning costumes acted as an elixir or powerful sermon to these residents of Bay Ridge and the neighboring provinces. Parents became acrobats and bounded from their seats, tap-dancing down the aisle to get a better shot of their baby ballerina; grandparents performed feats of incredible strength and agility carrying massive bouquets and balloons all the way around to the dressing areas; brothers and sisters – thinking they were unnoticed – would attempt to copy a step or two in the corner of the lobby during intermission; and like any red-carpet event, flash bulbs were popping and video cameras rolling from every conceivable corner … totally ignoring the sweet-voiced request at the opening of the show.

I wonder how many heads made it to the video.

J’s New Dance Center boasts a friendly and accepting atmosphere where all you need is a desire to dance and the willingness to have fun doing it.  Dance brilliance comes later … but it does come.

Summer Program starts July 13th.
Fall registration will be held September 1st.
For information call 718-680-6111

Classes include:
BABY RHYTHM (For kids ages 3 & 4) Learn Tap, Ballet, and Tumbling.
KINDERDANCE (for kindergarten & first graders) A great introduction to the world of dance.
TAP 45 (for graduates of Baby Rhythms and Kinderdance) 45 mins. of tap & 15 mins. of jazz.
ACROBATICS An excellent base for gymnastics, exercise, and the elements of a healthy lifestyle.
JAZZ Ethnic rhythms combined with the popular dance styles of today like hip hop.
TAP  A technique of quick footwork & lively rhythms.
BALLET Ballet is a classical form of dance. It is a MUST for any serious dancer.
POINTE  The ultimate progression of ballet. Dance On Your Toes!
BELLY DANCE An exotic form of Middle-Eastern dance excellent for spine & hip alignment.
SALSA Salsa is an exciting and highly popular style of dance.
ACTING Learn how to Audition and work in the professional theatre!
VOCAL TRAINING Do you want to sing in a musical, a choir, or concert? This class is just for you.
THEATRE COMPANY leading students are invited to join Genesis Repertory an off-B’way theatre

The world is starting to see the light – through the grit – but still seeing it. In fits and starts as well as planned change we are now looking to heel our bodies.

Bodies, here, can be euphemistic many times over.

We have polluted the main body – the earth; we have polluted our government with a war and crippling inflation; we have polluted out minds with Internet imagery; and there is no doubt we have polluted our own bodies. Whether it is through the inertia of slothful inactivity or ingesting harmful chemicals or tortured animals (I’ll have my antibiotic-filled hamburgers super-sized, please), we are hurting ourselves and want to stop.

Enter The Magic Apothecary. Creating a line of hand made products that – through herbal properties and aromatherapy – will help you heel.

Heel can be euphemistic many times over.

The Magic Apothecary is a line of soaps, bath products, oils, incense, candles, and meditations designed to empower you to better living. Named after ancient deities long associated with various strengths and powers, these simple handcrafted items, mixed with your own desire for better health and happiness, assist in your body’s natural desires for everything from courage to calm.

Each bar of soap, each candle, each bag of incense is handmade with real ingredients. Real herbs from bay leaves to chickweed and genuine essential oils including the likes of Rose of Damascus (a rare and expensive item in and of itself) are found in each. Each shower or bath opens your senses to the properties in these herbs; each mediation over a candle or incense fills your soul with the temperament of that particular god or goddess.

Make no mistake, The Apothecary’s weight-loss soap bar or her scented love candle will not magically make you thin and popular; the money soap and High-John the Conqueror candle will not get you the job at HBO, but the herbs in them will help strengthen your natural resolve to pull the god or goddess out of you. Sometimes all we need is that special aroma or texture to make us say, “I deserve it.”

Skeptics abound, even within the very community that supports such ideologies, so I asked a few of her clients (without telling them why). I got these comments:
Bob of Brooklyn said he’d been alone for far-too long. He bought a love kit and now he and his girlfriend are very happy (she just met mother); Mitch from The Bronx remarked on how he was living from paycheck to paycheck. He showered with the money soap until he could see the penny in the center of the bar. A loan came through enabling him to move to a better apartment; and even deeper, is Pat from PA – recently diagnosed with cancer and undergoing chemotherapy – was allergic to most lotions and perfumes, so the burn of her treatment seemed unstoppable. She was able to sooth her chemo-seared skin with The Magic Apothecary’s Moon bar … safely, naturally.

The Magic Apothecary does not have a product that washes away skepticism but at costs below similar chemically made, factory-produced, store-bought items… what’s the harm? And she even supplies certificates of authenticity with her merchandise.

Reprinted by permission of site and author. Originally published July, 2008,

Case in point: The Magic Flute.

The Magic Flute

Friday Cast

By Erica Vasaturo and Fran Bacine

The well-remembered comment made by the Emperor in Amadeus is that Mozart’s work has “too many notes.” If so then it takes masters to make each of these abundant notes flow seamlessly into the other. Such masters can be found at The Bronx Opera, at 41 years and counting – the oldest opera company of its kind in New York. The Mozart in question is one of his most familiar – The Magic Flute.

The plot weaves around Prince Tamino who, through a series of trials, must win the hand of Pamina, the daughter of the Queen of the Night, from Sarastro and the Temple Elders. He is given mystical weaponry including a magic flute bestowed upon him by three of the Queen’s mystical minions. He is also given a comedic sidekick – of course – the bird catcher, Papageno, who joins the adventure in the hopes of getting more food and drink but gets much more than he bargained for … good and bad. The Quixotic pair, both stricken with silence at points, both battle darkness and supernatural forces at other points.

Ben Spierman directed this English language production with a subtle hand. He imbued last years’ Pagliacci & Impresario with a stark “ripped from the headlines” flavor but this production received subtle shades of then and now. His wink-and-nod form of updating with one hand and maintaining tradition with another is done here beautifully. Starting with Tamino, dressed like a 1930s movie serial adventurer in the scope of Indiana Jones or Flash Gordon, somehow lands in this secluded mountain range filled with dragons, mysterious robed worshippers, and a sorceress. Not to mention. Lions and tigers and bears… literally. By keeping all but Tamino in traditional garb, the sense of transporting him to a mystical realm was emphasized. His bits of shtick entwined with traditional staging were also refreshing. Musically, Michael Spierman was the true sorcerer, commanding a huge cast and orchestra (literally spilling out over the sides of the orchestra pit) through a sea of stunning orchestral accompaniment.

An excellent principle cast was led by Neal Harrelson as Prince Tamino. His sweet sound, towering presence, and mane of blonde hair made him the ideal adventurer – and of perfect contract to Jason Plourde’s channeling of the late Dom Deluise with a litany of facial expressions, double takes, and food sight gags as the lonely yet luxuriate bird catcher, Papageno. His own terrific tones made for a great pairing.

He was not the only humor injected into the opera. Helen Lyons, Leslie Swanson and Shirin Eskandani play the Queen’s mysterious envoys in perfect harmony and as three lusty maidens wanting Prince Tamino for their own. Noteworthy also is Laura Shofner as Papagena, the comic relief’s comic lover.

Ushering back to the Hollywood “witch” of the 1930s was Astrid Marshall as the Queen of the Night. Draped in black with towering headgear, Ms. Marshall was Agnes Moorehead with dashes of Margaret Hamilton. Her famed aria of the second act was well worth the wait. And to counter this dark force is her daughter, Princess Pamina, angelically sung by Alfonsina Molinari.

Two standouts within the production came from the supporting cast: Jorge Ocasio as Sarastro, High Priest of the Temple has easily one of the most powerful presences on that stage and his deep rich bass-baritone voice only secured that image. The Temple Priests had a very difficult job – here is where too many notes come in. There are long orchestral sections upon their entrances and filling the stage was the first order. Ocasio was able to do this with ease. Each stride or turn was energizing. The second is Leslie Tay as the manic Monostatos. Filled with nervous energy, Tay brought a sense of urgency to his role making him that much more captivating. Even standing behind the action looking on, he was a story unto himself.

Maintaining a classical venire is a double-edged sword. While the declamatory style one might expect to see in classical staging allows the artists to sing above the orchestra and project better into the house (purists that they are, The Bronx Opera does not employ microphones) not to mention creating some absolutely stunning stage pictures, it also drains some of the urgency from this mature fairy tale plot. The exuberant audience certainly didn’t seem to mind though.

The lighting by Jim Elliot was lovely. Subtle changes in color and area created a panoramic sense with an oil painting finish. Meganne George’s set design – simplistic use of moving fabrics and window panels depicting everything from the mountains to the dungeons – was well used in conjunction with Mr. Elliot’s lights. While Meg Zeder is to be commended for inspired color schemes and establishing a sense of time period, each temple elder seemed to be in a different pair of shoes and stockings. Sadly, the maidens’ chorus suffered from the same footwear issue but their costumes seemed to cover it better. The men’s chorus again suffered the double edge sword of performing in period. While they look compelling in the flowing robes, a certain posture must be displayed or the costume wears the actor.

The Spierman family and The Bronx Opera fight the good fight. Like Prince Tamino they must battle dragons and darkness with nothing more than beautiful music. The Bronx Opera’s dragons are a wretched economy and its darkness is the stereotype for which the Bronx has weathered for far too long. Yet through it all, they present top-notch work at magically low prices.

Here’s hoping nothing silences their voice.

The Magic Flute

Saturday Cast

By Robert Greene

At first glance, this opera seems very much the fairy tale. Dragons, bird-catchers, and secret societies battling sorceresses… but looking deeper you have an ancient tale harkening from ancient societal rituals. One might look upon this as an Iron John-style manhood trial amid pagan practices and beliefs.

We begin with Prince Tamino (Eapen Leubner), trapped in a mysterious mountain range occupied by ancients of all kinds – a Queen of the Night (Heather Hill) battling a secret fraternal order (and by now we all know which one Mozart was alluding to). The dashing Lindbergh lookalike, Tamino, is joined by a towering troubadour named Papageno (Jeremy Moore) whose love of wine, women, and song places him at Tamino’s side and in the face of danger. Needless to say, there is a damsel in distress (Katherine Wessinger), a great wizard-like leader of the fraternal order (Michael O’Hearn), three supernatural handmaids (Elizabeth Perryman, Paula Jean Rocheleau, Paula Roediger) the lusty henchman (Kennan Vasudevan) and a gaggle of spirits (The Bronx Highbridge Voices chorus).

Eapen Leubner and Katherine Wessinger as the Tamino and Princess Pamina were simply lovely together and powerful individually, displaying great stage presence and vocal strength; Heather Hill made the Queen of the Night a formidable figure with a genuine sense of realism within her otherworldly role. Adeptly avoiding stereotype or overdoing it as the role can suggest, she brought urgency and reality to her delivery. Progressive thinking in opera for sure. Michael O’Hearn was truly magnificent as Sarastro, leader of the order. His expansive frame was only dwarfed by a presence worthy of grand venues. And his deep basso tones were perfectly placed. But the real fun was Jeremy Moore as Papageno. Combining leading man looks with genuine comic timing and a superior voice made him worth the ride alone. His early exchanges with his lady love, Papagena (played with flair by Andrea Leyton-Mange) were like old English musical hall humor. And for the cuteness factor, the gifted children of Highbridge Voices appearing as sprites along with a herd of dancing animals did not disappoint.

It is the wise company that knows when simplicity and implication are the ways of design and The Bronx Opera is a wise company. Meganne George series of drapes and stained glass panels allowed us to believe we were on mountains or in temples or beneath castles. There was just enough to hold the hand of our imagination. Gentle hues amid romantic shadows, gothic midnight, lighting flashes, and even mystical auras were all brought to us by Jim Elliot. Meg Zeder’s beautiful color scheme and use of ancient versus present made for opulent costumes. This long piece moved briskly thanks to director Benjamin Spierman and assistant Nicole Lee Aiossa. Michael Spierman, the company’s founder and guiding force conducted the production including a larger than expected orchestra and full chorus to great success.

Many remain unaware of the great work of The Bronx Opera due to its off-the-path location(s). I was dragged to my first production last year by their ardent press rep. Now I am a fan. Not just because of what I see as consistency of professional standard but to revel in seeing promising young artists take an ancient form of art and carry it into this new century.

Today, we laud the large ensembles when they update and translate.

Well, uptown, The Bronx Opera’s been doing it for 40 years.

When the curtain came down on the fifth and final one-act of Brooklyn One Theater’s “A Playwright Grows In Brooklyn”, two overused but still-endearing cliches came to mind: Slow and Steady Wins The Race, and Rome Wasn’t Built In a Day.

Tom Kane and Anthony Marino, first and foremost, are to be commended for continuing to bring vibrant, exciting, meaningful, entertaining theater to the good citizens of Brooklyn, USA. In this fast-moving, add-water-and-mix, I-want-everything-yesterday society we presently inhabit, it is hard enough to get people to leave the friendly confines of their living room for some live entertainment: after all, even with a gluttonous amount of electronic diversions,  there (still) is nothing like a live performance. If I wore a hat, I’d absolutely and gratefully tip it in their direction.

Here’s where the first cliche comes in handy: Rome wasn’t built in a day, and if the quality of the plays selected are any indication of the future of this particular festival, then it will take a lot longer than one day to build this little town.

The first two plays,”Extreme Duress”, and “Beautiful”, were terrible messes. Terrible productions of terrible plays.

John Capo, the author of “Extreme Duress”, has seen Quentin Tarantino’s “Reservoir Dogs” way too many times (he even mentions him in the play). A trio, two brothers and a femme fatale, take turns scheming each other, with one layer of unbelievability added to another. By play’s end, you wish for all the characters to be dead and gone. To compound matters, Mr Capo decided not only to direct his own work, but to act in it as well. Note to Mr. Capo: This triple play of yours, in the Spiral Notebook of Theatre Production, is a Bad Bad Idea. Please refrain in the future.

Catherine Tandy and Clay Helms completed the cast and, sadly, contributed nothing. A sense of urgency, of pace, style, of moment-to-moment reality, of planned spontaneity, of empathy, of change, even of simply entertainment, ideas that are a staple to an actor’s essence, were nowhere to be found. The dialogue was straight out of junior year in high school, and the acting was about the same.

However, compared to “Beautiful”, “Extreme Duress” was Brando in “Streetcar”.

“Beautiful”, pardon the obvious play on words, was anything but. In fact, it would take a long journey down memory lane to recall a play that was so poorly written. It was a 55-minute session at the dentist. The play concerned something about Reality TV, or our national obsession with external beauty, or both. Ordinarily, these are important themes, and if Dana Fuchs, the playwright, had set out to write a satire, or a cautionary tale about the excesses of these vices, then all would be well and good. Unfortunately, Ms. Fuchs had no idea what she wanted to say, and had no idea in how to say it. The characters are cartoons, the dialogue is unnatural, tepid, and as dull as dishwater, and the performances were simply lousy from top to bottom.

Intermission, and not a moment too soon. To Leave or Not To Leave, that is the question. No, I will stay. Hope: It’s what keeps us alive. Sure enough, allow the other cliche to make its entrance: Slow and steady wins the race. That is true for horse racing, marriages, elections, and evenings in the theater. The second act, consisting of three shorter works, gave the evening the U-Turn it so desperately needed, and ultimately made the evening moderately successful.

The first of these plays, “The Midnight Radio Show” by the late Vince Mazza, was pretty standard fare, with a decent twist ending:Jonathan Beaumont, an obnoxious talk-radio host, ably played by Dustin Cross, begins receiving strange, then threatening phone calls from his various listeners. Director J Michaels keeps things moving along briskly, a breath of fresh air from the abyss of the first act. Michael Ruocco, who starred in “The Music Man” recently on the NCT stage, again shines as Tom,
Mr. Beaumont’s long-suffering producer; Christopher Sirota completes the cast in an effective manner as Mr. Sunshine, one of the off-the-wall callers. Slowly but surely, the U-Turn had begun.

It picked up speed with “Say What You Mean/Mean What You Say”, a nice little skit/play by Aaron Jaros. A man and woman, in their early twenties, meet in their basement laundromat, and engage in the mating dance in a quirky, sweet, compelling way. The play appeared well cast, with Nicola DePierro and Stephen Ryan playing the would-be lovers, but both had an alarming propensity for turning inexplicably out to the audience, suddenly breaking the fourth wall and destroying the momentum and the illusion of the believability of the situation. Still, the play was well directed by Anthony Marino, and had more than a few clever lines of dialogue. Best of all, the production and the play had the sense of moving forward into unexplored terrain, which is all anyone could hope for, and which after all is the point.

The evening’s final play, “True Blue”, by Mary Steelsmith, was a strange way to end the evening, and left an even stranger taste in the mouth. Ms. Steelsmith has an obvious knack for playwriting, an excellent ear for dialogue, a clear understanding of exposition, a strong sense of pace, and an affinity for dramatic tension. The direction by Michael Coluccio was strong, and the acting, by Stephen Fontana and Anton Koval, was first rate, and the evening’s best. What was missing was the point. It was easy to miss; the substance of the play,–two competing soldiers in a mysterious room competing for something– was too eccentric to be readily understood. The soldiers were competing against each other in some fashion, but I, for one, was not sure what was the nature of the competition, and why. Were they both American soldiers, just on different teams? Or was one Russian, one not? (One dark-haired actor, one blonde) Or were they two sides of the same person, a la ” The Fight Club”? Wasn’t sure. Still, a success, completing a modest “three-peat”.

There didn’t appear to be any semblance of a technical design (lighting, costume, make-up, etc.) The standard ’set’, used by all the plays, consisted of some sort of fence with little masking to speak of. Actors made exits, but you’re never really sure if they are off-stage at any time. Black curtains would have prevented portraits of Robert E Lee and Ulysses S Grant from staring at the audience while hanging on the center stage wall. Easy, obvious things were not addressed that are essential to completing the theatrical experience. Things to put on the top of the to-do list for the fourth annual festival.

Robert Liebowitz is a published and produced playwright. His productions have received contract runs off-Broadway and premieres at The Fringe Festival. He is the author of the anthology, “Awake & Aggravated.” He is artistic director of None of the Above theater, a 20-year-old stage company based in
- and on – New York City.

Nestled in tree-lined suburban façade of Brooklyn’s Bay Ridge area lives a beautiful summer-stock style theatre in Christ Church. Within the picturesque wooden sloped ceiling and Tudor style frame, The Brooklyn Association of the Performing Arts and The Brooklyn Theatre Arts Project, Inc. presented a truly top-notch production of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Jesus Christ Superstar.

Lloyd-Webber has become known for style-above-substance-works, but this is from a time when he was daring. Putting hope before hype, he created a quartet of masterpieces (Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, Evita, and Chess make the other three). Here he juxtaposed politics and the pulpit to create a truly enthralling work.

VERY simply, this rock musical – written in a time of upheaval in our own country – tunes in (pardon the pun) on a charismatic enlightened soul whose great good deed of bringing about change and spiritual growth create socio-political upheaval. Presenting this parable in its purest, the charismatic soul is Christ and the play is his last days.

Director Anthony Augello took an inspired path and depicted Jesus and Mary [Magdalene] as sort-of John Lennon and Yoko Ono figures, creating immense spiritual growth while enraging the “system” with their beliefs on world affairs. This is taken even further with an unapproving Judas dressed in a Sgt. Pepper-style jacket.

In the title role, rock performer and local celebrity George Tsalikis was commanding and vocally stunning. His obvious understanding of rock music made his work on the stage that much more authentic and enjoyable. His soft stature yet booming musical control perfectly communicated the depth of whom he was portraying. As his love interest – yes, love interest; Momo Kajiwara was gentle and grounded, presenting a confidence not often associated with the role. Kajiwara’s voice was lovely and hypnotic. Together they created “a power couple.” Director Augello placed them into a physical relationship complete with on-stage kisses and off-stage inferences. This infuriated Judas and undoubtedly many others – on stage and in the audience.

Dimitri Minucci as Judas was electrifying. It took him a scene or so to get his energy going but once there he was brilliant. In a wild beard and shaven head, looking like the lead singer in a wild rock concert, Minucci’s high-powered star-turn was the perfect foil to Tsalikis’ clean-shaven, boyish Christ.

The supporting players found the truth in their roles: the Temple Priests were all privileged men of means whose posture and power were evident. Leading the pack of politicians was Joseph Autuoro as Caiaphas. His strong demeanor and great stage presence depicted to us perfectly who these decision-makers were and why. The apostles were all sound actors presenting these holy men as simple guys innocent of all around them. This allowed their unwitting betrayals to be that much more heartbreaking. Two standouts were Dustin Cross as Thomas, whose angelic voice was a highpoint of the dark second act and Miguel Sierra adding just a little extra thought to his characterizations. Musical director Jake Lloyd and his full band (yup, full band) should be praised for shepherding the well-sung chorus through difficult harmonies. And Sherri Norige’s high stepping choreography was a delight.

The true standout of the supporting players was Rocco Buonpane as Pilate. A good production of Superstar understands that it is Pilate that sets world affairs in motion so a strong Pilate is a necessity. Rocco’s powerful voice cut through the hot summer air and his truly phenomenal stage presence gave Pilate the necessary thunder. It would be easy to smirk at Buonpane for his Wellesian hubris in taking a plum role as well as serving as executive producer, but after watching his work on stage and noticing the sold out crowd – some coming from Manhattan – it was obvious his head fits both hats.

The production sported a terrific set complete with lighted cross and stairs built into walls creating an Escher/Dali effect. The lighting was extremely well used giving color and isolation to all the right moments. Both were guided by director Augello, showing solid vision technically.

The production suffered only two sins. The production scheme of 60/70s turbulence could have gone even farther. When it was there it was excellent and truly inspired: the Hugh Heffner robe on Pilate; the faceless tribunal straight out of The Prisoner TV series; and the Ziggy Stardust hell for Judas were all quite brilliant but the same should have been done for Simon – played with gusto and a killer voice by Noah Brendemuehl – and maybe something different for the Pharisees. In black hats and prayer-style shawls (staying in those costumes and performing the final execution), this could be interpreted as a nod to Mel Gibson’s religious ideologies more than world changing 60/70s. The use of medallions on each cast member to explain character – again – was compelling and interesting – but some of the symbols may have created more confusion than description. Their use in the finale was really extraordinary and had the audience known what each symbol meant its impact would have been definitive.

The other problem was the intolerable heat in the theatre. The old structure – while gorgeous – did not allow for air conditioning, so the building was immeasurably hot for the audience and undoubtedly unbearable for the actors who needed to layer their lovely costumes, painstakingly built by Angela Campione, for quick changes. Sometimes emotional transitions were unclear or too fast most likely due to the distracting heat. Somebody please buy this great theatre an air-conditioner!!

Summer weather aside, the evening’s event was enthralling and enjoyable. Theatergoers laud regional settings like Shakespeare & Company or The Paper Mill Playhouse, but if you wish to have a truly enjoyable theatre experience in a regional theatre setting, just board the R train to Brooklyn and walk a brief three blocks toward the water. Look for the full parking lot and long ticket lines.

J. Michaels – known for his work as a stage director – runs the New York outlet of Wright Group Marketing & Communications; is director of public relations for The Bronx Opera, and is an experienced speech writer and marketing executive for several international philanthropies. He is a former professor of speech, media, and theatre and began his writing career in 1990 as a caption writer for The Daily News.

Everyone knows “And Then There Were None”; it is Agatha Christie’s most popular murder mystery (with sales of 100 million and counting); it has run for seemingly ever on the London stage (along with her companion piece “The Mousetrap”), and has been made into several film and television versions. It is so good, so clever, decades ahead of it’s time, it should be shipped off to the Smithsonian and into a time capsule. This is Art (or certainly the murder-mystery genre) at its finest.

When Narrows Community Theater decided to mount a revised production of it, setting it in the ‘Me’ decade of the mid-70s, it seemed to be a particularly innovative tact, garnering approval from the theatre Gods. Director George Ferencz led a competent, tight cast through the two-and-a –half-hour evening, and has emerged triumphantly on the other side despite some design and technical issues, which receive an A for effort.

The plot needs only a bare-bones introduction: A group of people (ten would be a wild guess) are invited to a remote island of the coast of Long Island, and the bodies then start to drop one by one. Whodunnit? No one knows for sure, and that’s the thrill and the attraction.

The able cast is led first and foremost by the talented Dain Alexandra as the gregarious but street-smart Vera Claythorne. Her performance was thrilling to watch and experience, from soup to nuts. Others in the cast who deserve honorable mention would be Al Whidden exuded great stage presence as the Judge, Ted Lewis as the snobby military officer, General MacKenzie, and Larry Gutman as the film-noir style eccentric Dr. Armstrong. But it is Ms. Alexandra’s performance that stands out.

Over the years, NCT has been the flag-bearer in importing professional-caliber talent to breathe life onto its humble Brooklyn stage. And while its supportive audience showed no signs of disapproval, one hopes that more time can be made to creating sets and lighting that can complement the excellent acting. Sadly, in the days of turntables and flying cars, no theatre production, no matter how well the acting is, can be considered complete without it. But regardless, a tip of the hat goes the NCT team, for its sometimes uneven but ultimately satisfying production of “And Then There Were None.”

(Robert Liebowitz is an award-winning playwright with successful runs at The Fringe Festival, LoveCreek, and several off-Broadway houses. He has one anthology of his plays available at The Drama Book Store and another in the works.)

When you take a moment to realize how elitist opera and other forms of classical theatre have become you jump for joy at companies like The Bronx Opera. Translating and updating, they bring works that are slowly becoming invisible to “joe-theatregoer” thanks to soaring ticket costs and exclusive crowds, right to their door. A great case in point is the company’s final entry in their 40th season (a milestone for any mid-sized anything!)

The night opens with Mozart’s Impresario – directed and translated into great fun by Ben Spierman. It concerns a small opera company and its multi-tasking artistic director (Ed Friedman) and how he attempts to keep art alive without selling out. His mission gets tougher when greeted by a greasy financier (Gary Giardina) and his two mistresses (Katherine Wessinger and Nicole Lee Aiossa). Our impresario has all-but given up trying to keep his associate (Matthew Rzomp) on the straight and narrow as he is enticed and enthralled by the two attractive divas.

The hour-long curtain raiser sent the audience into hysterics as the corniest of jokes are given new twists amid divine voices and excellent acting. Ed Friedman’s deadpan delivery supplied the perfect rim shot to Rzomp and Giardina – each packing over-the-top tomfoolery and double takes. Rzomp also opened his mouth to sing and a glorious sound came out. The duo of divas gave sounded gorgeous when singing and contributed their own wackiness when exchanging barbs. Particularly wonderful was Nicole Lee Aiossa, as the grande dam hiding her “old neighborhood” grit.

Director Ben Spierman provided a fast moving and witty piece of theatre, which packed a thought-provoking punch in the face to corporate America’s treatment of the arts. If Amadeus is true, then Mozart would be proud – especially after Friedman’s grand exit speech.

Pagliacci, the second of the night is as near a perfect opera as you can get. The plot – timeless and gripping; the characters – based on real people – are briskly identifiable even – if not especially – by today’s standards; and the music, which alternates between heartbreakingly beautiful and rousing, never seems dull or heavy. And it’s also only an hour!

Again, Ben Spierman knows how to keep his audience in the seats. Promoted as taking place in a free performance band stage in some park (Brooklyn?) Images of Nathan’s signs, ped-taxis, and the green-leaf park sign brought this piece right to our door. The expansive chorus as fruit sellers, tour guides, hot dog venders, and others also helped the change in period.

Roger Ohlsen’s take on the jealous Canio (the “pagliaccio”) expertly blended expectation with innovation. His choice to play him as a tired and angry “great actor” made his jealously and volcanic temper more understandable and human. It put levels to his relationship with Nedda, his wife (played with darkness by Jenny Searles) that gave us a fresh take on this portion of the story. Jeremy Moore was terrific as Silvio, here as a philandering pretty-boy. Again, Matthew Rzomp was a standout as Beppe, the supporting actor, and Jerrett Gieseler, as the deformed Tonio, was a perfect foil for Searles. Their scenes together were engrossing as we watch two dark souls with their own agenda on a collision course.

A few touches did not gel with the modernization: Gieseler did not need a hump and his costume seemed to fight it for than enhance it; same can be said for Nedda’s costume, too confined and plain for her character; Canio’s knife and knife holder were incongruous in a world of Swiss army knives and homeland security, and the chorus singing of going to church made their exit confusing. You loose the lovely enselmble piece wondering what day and time it is. And there was a little too much use of red roses… somebody get an orchid or something.

Director Spierman guided his actors to the realization of well-fleshed characters while Michael Spierman, Elizabeth Scott, and Michael Haigler gave us some beautiful voices to enjoy. Ben Spierman’s staging was brisk and comfortable on the eyes. It gave the opera’s chorus (normally no more than set dressing) a chance to shine and shine they did as each voice blended as equally as their characters were individual. Standouts were the elderly chess players with their portable beach chairs and two strong actor-singers as very visible policemen.

But the standing ovation for the night should go to the company itself, The Bronx Opera – for four decades – has bestowed great power and artistic excellence to those who might never get a chance to view this great art form.

Bravo.