Robert Encila-Celdran - Page 3

IF ONLY I WERE TALLER is a devised collaboration with director/vocal coach and Broadway performer Ellyn Marsh (Kinky Boots, The Rose Tattoo, Pretty Woman: The Musical). Acclaimed pianist and musical director Drew Wutke leads a distinguished group of New York musicians to anchor Cracchiolo's repertoire.

It sounds simple enough, but not according to Veronika Duerr, whose journey to a viable pregnancy became a life lesson unto itself. In fact, she was so changed by the 'miraculous' experience that it spawned yet another gift: an original, one-woman theatrical performance documenting the challenges and joys of pregnancy.

Director Matt Bowdren helms this steady ship and fashions a piece of theater that strikes an impeccable balance between nuance and grandiloquence. With delicate adherence to Miller's sensibilities, actors never go out of bounds even as they achieve their bombastic heights; conversely, poignant moments are so intimate that one feels almost privy to a character's inner resolve.

It begins as a strained interplay between a fretful playwright/director and a high-strung, vulgar actress desperate for an audition. No sooner had they acknowledged their unsuitable chemistry than they found themselves enmeshed in a clever pas de deux that blurs our sense of reality. It’s an intellectual dance that unearths a primal game of sexual submission and domination, echoing what happens in the novel. A compelling point of reference: “Masochism” is a word inspired by the author’s surname.

Some folks can be ostensibly sanguine in the face of disquieting global crises. Take Mark Klugheit, for instance, who is certainly attuned to the tumult of the news cycle, but whose singular antidote to the world's chaos and gloom keeps him in sober perspective: his love for the theater.

In A SONORAN DESERT CAROL, Claire Mannle had the insight to adapt Charles Dickens' Christmas classic as a sacred homage to our native ancestors, but not without admonishing the predatory elites of our modern economic system. Dickens would likely approve the latter inasmuch as income inequality had become a chief ingredient of his social criticism.

No matter the competition, Gaslight remains a thriving enterprise -- an ironclad formula that keeps the house full, taste buds sated, music playing, jokes cracking, and business humming.

In MISS BENNET: CHRISTMAS AT PEMBERLEY, Gunderson partners with her friend Margot Melcon and lends a righteous voice to Mary Bennet, the third child of the Bennet household in Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. In the duo's amusing account, Mary comes of age in a way Austen enthusiasts ought to appreciate -- no longer the stodgy middle child consigned to a pedantic existence, but a woman of substance deserving of social recognition and romance.

In DRY POWDER (uninvested capital), Ms. Burgess acknowledges income inequality from the vantage point of elite power brokers, the oft-maligned “one percenters” driving the nation's economic bus to a cliff’s edge. As stagnant wages and unemployment take front and center in our political discourse, the playwright amplifies the reality by exposing the sinister forces behind the flailing American manufacturing industry and a crumbling labor market.

At the risk of confounding the average thinker, the playwright may lean on bookish details to justify her academic focus. Nonetheless, she's a gifted storyteller who can weave an arcane chalk talk on cosmology as a way to unfurl a theatrical yarn about a multidimensional protagonist.

The production, stripped of inessential razzle-dazzle, is a poignant piece of minimalist theatre rarely seen in mainstream venues. Chalk it up, by and large, to the small-scale nature of one-person experiments, not to mention the modest locales that draw your conventional cabaret audiences. Ms. Bertels transcends that genre as her trove of anecdotes funnels through a comprehensive and critically acclaimed libretto, courtesy of her best friend, Christian Duhamel.

You only have to scan the lineup in Scoundrel and Scamp's 5th season to acknowledge the company's commitment to serious and enlightened theatre work. Given its efforts to expose the community to an array of new, inventive works, S&S situates itself in the rare company of local vanguards shaping the theatrical landscape before us.

'New' is the operative component. Not to sound mawkish, but there's an aura of novelty and innovation at ATC that we haven't felt for some time. Artistic director Sean Daniels shares a unique perspective on the arts that tells me he's attuned to what's trending nationally. Citing his intrepid programming makeover, Daniels is compelled to position the company as a pioneering force in the industry.

FRANKENSTEIN is the latest to emerge from Gaslight's well-preserved crypt of spoofs and running gags, a brief but optimal antidote to the real horrors of the outside world. That's not an exaggeration; from a formulaic sense, reviewing Peter Van Slyke's mastery of the genre is simply gilding the lily. If you didn't find his work suitable before, you might thank him now for a much-needed boost of good cheer.

All in all, it's a solid ensemble that appears to have bought into the collective adversity of mental illness. Though it feels like an isolated experience, it's clear that others are severely affected and that no one feels safe until everyone's shame is reconciled with the truth.

Anna turns out to be indispensable in facilitating Augie's Lear, but more importantly she provides the anchor to Augie's wobbly effort to reclaim his self-esteem. A good chunk of Shakespeare gets a good polish, but the rehearsal itself is a mere conceit to unearth the real and urgent drama before us: the arc of a solid and beautiful marriage that endures life's travails.

Our first three shows, coming back, are all very charming, just laugh-out-loud good nights in the theatre. I always believe that theatre is a place for society to kind of wrestle with feelings and come up with new ideas about how we can heal and change. It's also sometimes just a great night out. There's nothing wrong with going and laughing -- and I think coming out of the pandemic, that is what we're gonna want.

Originally produced in 1977, the play catalogs the common acting adventures and technical mishaps that continue to age well: incidents and anecdotes on and off the stage that only seasoned thespians can truly appreciate. Nevertheless, it serves audiences a healthy dollop of good-natured laughs, thanks to the versatile delivery of two actors fit to embrace Mamet's brisk pace and not-too-subtle snides.

The Phoenix Theatre Company’s production is buttressed by a solid technical crew. It’s cohesive enough to support the herculean effort of Ms. Debra K. Stevens, who wields an impressive command of a voluminous text while practically staging a tutorial on how storytelling ought to be paced. She gives us a Dr. Ruth who is warm, funny, and authentic.

Rogue Theatre's season finale, AS YOU LIKE IT, delivers old-fashioned comedic romp. In Tucson, runs through May 9th.