Andrew Child

It’s hard to succinctly describe Shipping, a new musical by Jen Jackson and Louisa Kellogg with music by Brian Heveron-Smith. On one hand, it’s a scrappy little treat— a cobbled-together weave of local comedy talents that filled the Elysian Theatre with non-stop laughs from beginning to end.

The show is vibrant and candy-colored, featuring an earnest cohort of character actors perfectly placed into their roles, but with a stirring score by Jeanine Tesori and witty book by David Lindsay-Abaire, the piece is an instant classic of contemporary musical theatre.

In a meticulously scripted and carefully crafted medley of songs, the performers highlighted the highs and lows of their careers, illustrating their individual paths to Hairspray and sharing anecdotes of their vastly different lives since the closing of the show.

For all the device’s delicious successes, framing complicated shots of singers through the geometric slats of Ezio Frigerio’s behemoth set in ways that conversely evoke the opulence of a work by the Freed unit or the subtle asymmetry of a Mizoguchi movie, both the live performance and the filmed version suffer when neither is clearly prioritized.

Though the language is easy to imagine as the foundation for a more ostentatious spectacle, the sweeping narration is deftly relayed by a mighty fistful of actors and a polished trio of dancers in a way that allows grand battles and weighty sociopolitical musings to service the intrinsic poetry of the contemporary text.

Director Sean Cawelti has crafted a handful of stunning visuals which punctuate the narrative with video projection, meticulously-rendered puppet choreography, and a particularly stunning sequence with pyrotechnics.

The universe seems to have contrived to allow them to present a near-perfect production. With the gentle sounds of crickets in the background and the sporadic circling of LAPD’s helicopters, the seasoned cast weaves an intimate tale that is booby-trapped with a million Chekhovian guns which fire rapidly in an explosive climax.

The production is entirely fused with the bluish glow of the cellphones which tether the characters together and, in many ways, the continued relevance of the themes of the piece shine through. Musings on connections and loneliness seem freshly pertinent as Bobbie flicks through voicemails alone in her tiny apartment.

In attempting to reinvent Peter Pan for a modern audience, NETworks Presentations has embraced a major challenge. On the one hand, they have a gem. Jerome Robbins’ original production was packed with humor, heart, and adventures that captivated generations of audiences, not to mention a beautifully dynamic score by Morris ‘Moose’ Charlap.

Mike Lew’s two-hander feels ‘of a time’— and it is impressive how quickly these plays that seem to cater to the art sector’s regrowth post-quarantine both in content and structure already feel stale and dated.

As the mystical opening chords begin to play and Liz Toonkel emerges in a stunning sequined costume designed by Stephen James, one might relax back into their seat, assured that a flashy, polished magic show which meekly follows the formula made popular by Copperfield and Blaine is about to unfold

A sharp blade wielded threateningly, forced perspective creating looming palatial walls, the rotting heads of failed suitors, and a princess literally shrouded in mystery quickly orient us within Puccini’s iconic fairytale.

When director Ron Sossi elected to present Stalin’s Master Class at Odyssey Theatre Ensemble for the second time, he was aware that audiences might respond differently to the production than they did to the previous staging 37 years ago.

The success of Fanny doesn’t lie in the nuance or perspective the straightforward script lends to this historical figure, but rather in the eclectic smattering of talents artfully gathered and showcased by the piece.

In classic ANW style, Rodriguez-Elliott has simplified everything, returning to the text and highlighting elements of the (mercifully and artfully) truncated libretto. Without a drop of stage blood, she has crafted lasting images of violence that grip us and carry the narrative.

The live show, which celebrates ten years of Judge’s popular podcast Criminal,  was appropriately filled with stories whose hook introductions took many unexpected twists and turns before resolving in ways often contradictory to the well-trodden paths of narrative.

Matthew Bourne has certainly crafted a “New Adventure” under the title Romeo and Juliet. Purists may come up empty-handed if they mine the kaleidoscopic geometry of the mesmerizing opening sequence for any semblance of “Two households, both alike in dignity”.

It’s 2024 and theatres shouldn’t be taking anything for granted anymore. No standard of existence or tried and true method should be undertaken without scrutiny. Rogue Artists Ensemble has appropriately blown the lid off the standard fundraising gala event, opting instead for a Carousel of Fools on Santa Monica Pier.

Upon entering the theatre, one is met by Berlant herself engaged in a Yoko Ono-esque performance flanked by an artist’s statement which has appeared verbatim in the program for every show I’ve reviewed in the past year.

It feels like a slight to write about this piece as just another theatrical performance offered this time of year. The community clearly comes out in droves to hear the choral narrations, see the beautiful artistry of Vanessa M. Gomez’ tilmas, and celebrate a treasured story.