A Family’s New Chapter

An Ecuadorian father, Nelson (Anthony Ruiz), struggles to reconnect with his three adult children when his past catches up with him in Vanessa Verduga’s comedy Implications of Cohabitation. Verduga also plays the love child, Sara, who does not relate to her half-siblings, Kevin (Andres de Vengoechea) and Jenny (Connie Saltzman). Their father, Nelson, had an affair with Sara’s mother, Carmen (Adriana Sananes), when she worked as a waitress at a local Ecuadorian restaurant. Sara is a successful attorney with corporate clients, yet she is insecure when it comes to relationships with men. Kevin is an actor, but his father wants him to run the family construction business. Jenny is a punk rock singer who smokes marijuana and is still finding herself. Nelson’s wife, Caitlin, and mother to his two children, Kevin and Jenny, has recently passed away. Now alone, Nelson decides to live with each of his three children in their separate homes with the hope that they will take care of him in his old age. Nelson soon realizes that his children are more concerned about their own lives, and they are not interested in being his caretaker.

The comical misunderstandings throughout this production are amusing, as when Nelson discovers Jenny’s bong, but the humor cannot hide the lack of believability that pops up. In the beginning, when Kevin and Jenny share that they are still grieving over their mother’s death, there are not any memorable, somber moments to express their sadness or loss. They are more focused on viewing their half-sibling, Sara, as an outsider. Sara has a distant relationship with Nelson, while Kevin and Jenny seem to be closer to him.

It does not make sense that Nelson did not first ask his children if he could live with them. It suggests that Nelson has not been around his children for some time now, and he suddenly wants to spend his life with them. When Nelson does show up on their doorsteps, his children are so lost in their own worlds that they do not know what to do with him.

Right before Nelson arrives at Sara’s apartment, Sara’s ex-boyfriend, Jake (James Padric), a gay boxer, staggers into Sarah’s living room drunk. Jake says, “I fucked up. Me and Jean got into a huge argument. And now he’s disappeared.” Jean is Jake’s boyfriend, and Jake goes on about how worried he is about Jean. Padric’s entrance is confusing and it is a stretch to buy that Jake has genuine feelings for Jean and is actually worried about him. Padric does eventually pull off his character splendidly, with physical humor and succinct comedic timing when he mistakenly overdoses on the anti-inflammatory drug Naproxen.

Later, Nelson meets an alcoholic homeless man (David Pendleton) at a bench in a park. The two men get acquainted and eventually Nelson offers the homeless man a beer as they chat. Pendleton was giving a stellar performance until, unfortunately, he forgot his lines and whispered this to Nelson. Fortunately, Ruiz didn’t flinch and continued with his lines until he exited. His accomplished performance from the moment he appears on stage really holds this show together.

Set designer Anna Grigo creates a neat and organized set with a park on the left, an apartment in the middle, and an Ecuadorian restaurant on the right. What does not work is that the apartment is static and does not transform enough to represent each of the children’s homes. The transitions are also noticeably long. A picture is simply replaced on the wall to represent that the set has changed from Sara’s to Kevin’s apartment. When it is supposed to be Jenny’s apartment, some clothes are thrown on the furniture. The interior decorating best suits Sara’s taste and temperament, and it is easily plausible that this is her home. Kevin does not seem successful enough as an actor to afford to live in such a place. Jenny appears more like a squatter or an Airbnb guest in this space.

Even with a two-act structure, Implications of Cohabitation never fully ripens to the point where Nelson is actually living with any of his children. The play gradually takes a turn and focuses more on Sara’s wedding and the participation of her friends and family members. There is probably a great wealth of material that could be further explored by having Nelson live with his children. When telling a family story between two disconnected generations, it can be fascinating to watch how both generations play off of each other’s differences. Director Leni Mendez’s challenge is to bring greater authenticity to this production through natural performances and maintaining the original intention of this story.

Implications of Cohabitation runs until Aug. 26 at the Clurman Theatre (Theatre Row, 410 West 42 St., between 9th and 10th avenues) in Manhattan. Evening performances are at 8 p.m. Wednesday through Saturday and at 7 p.m. on Aug. 23. Tickets cost $20.25. To purchase tickets, call 212-239-6200 or visit sudacastheater.com.

Loss Takes On Many Forms

Holding on to the past can weigh upon a family. In her first play, Keep, Francesca Pazniokas explores how the emotional weight of a missing woman burdens her three sisters. Keep is inspired by her years of struggling to mask an addiction to hoarding. The production centers on a young hoarder, Naomi (Kim Krane), and her older sisters, Jane (Madison Comerzan) and Kara (Jenna D'Angelo). As Jane and Kara attempt to clean Naomi’s cramped apartment, they learn about what happened to their sister, Margo (Leslie Marseglia), who disappeared some years earlier. No, Jane and Kara do not find Margo’s decaying body underneath Naomi’s rug. Instead, they discover how disconnected their sisterhood has become.

Naomi does not sleep much and spends most of her time within a small area of her apartment, surrounded by junk and next to her filthy mattress. Jane and Kara arrive, and the three women blend together. They give bland first impressions as characters and are not easily distinguishable. Shortly after, Jane is revealed as more than a doting, artificial suburbanite who affectionately calls Naomi “Nooni”; she’s a lesbian who is in a relationship with a psychiatrist. Kara takes on a reckless and commanding leadership role and demands that the apartment be cleaned. Meekly, Naomi follows along with uncluttering her apartment and goes in and out of spouting incoherent passages like, “A rabbit, I think. A rabbit kicks a clot of blood and it–or someone boils it. I’m trying to remember. I think it was a rabbit.”

What doesn’t ring true is the sense of an actual intervention like those shown on an episode of A&E’s addictive television show Hoarders. The twist that is offered in Keep does not cure Naomi of her hoarding disorder. Other disorders like attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), obsessive-compulsive personality disorder (OCPD) and depression can be associated with hoarding. It is ambiguous if Naomi is struggling with any of these associated disorders or if she is just schizophrenic or bipolar. Hoarders are likely to be more guarded and attached to their items than Naomi’s passive nature indicates, and so Naomi’s hoarding disorder lacks some credibility. Although director Stephanie C. Cunningham brings out the sense of loss the sister feel, perhaps she could have urged bolder character choices.

The play is supposed to take place somewhere along the East Coast during the transition from winter to spring, but this is also ambiguous. Set designer Alfred Schatz creates a hoarder’s haven, with stacks of unpacked moving boxes, piles of old mail, and random pieces of furniture. It is like an antique store that has been turned into a storage unit. The set becomes enchanting after Margo appears, when lighting designer Cate DiGirolamo transforms the ceiling into a sparkling starry night.

The storytelling techniques used to show how these three sisters deal with the loss of Margo is the real value of this 80-minute production. Though they start out seeming indistinguishable, it becomes clear that Naomi lives in the past, Kara lives in the present, and Jane lives in the future. The distance between the three of them also brings them together because the separation reminds them of the intimacy they all once shared. Only Naomi really knows what happened to Margo, but, through the help of Jane and Kara, Naomi eventually reveals the truth.

Although simple and subtle, the play lands like a character study, without strong motivations from the characters. Because the characters do not coherently or explicitly stand for something, it is the plot that eventually moves the discussion forward. Pazniokas aims to dive deep into America’s “disposable society” and the value of human life, but lands somewhere between vaguely characterizing mental illness and grief.

The production is more successful at conveying how young women cope with isolation and alienation. The sisters’ disconnection is not due to modern technology or even mental illness in Keep, but because these characters have withheld who they really are from one another for so many years. The bonds of sisterhood began disintegrating after Margo left; the absent sister is the only one who frees herself of this burden but is unsuccessful at transforming her sisters—and this is where the true divide lives. Keep reminds theatergoers that the affinity shared between sisters can be powerful and ephemeral.

Keep runs until April 30 at the TGB Theatre (312 West 36 St., between 8th and 9th avenues) in Manhattan. Evening performances are at 8 p.m. Thursday through Saturday; there is an additional performance on April 27 at 8 p.m. There are no matinees. Tickets cost $18. To purchase tickets, call 800-411-8881 or visit BrownPaperTickets.com.

Crossing Into Madness

The filth, danger and enchantment of the South comes alive in Adam Rapp’s Wolf in the River and it all takes place around a fresh mound of earth with intoxicating purple flowers. The Man (Jack Ellis) is a shapechanger and he stands barefoot in the dirt, like he is on a soapbox, and counts each audience member one at a time. He is shirtless and holds his torso firmly as he moves around the room demonstrating his dominance. The shapechanger can supernaturally change from a man, to a wolf, and to a nasty, old woman named Dumptruck Lorna. The Wolf smells a pair of used panties from a canvas sack and examines a muddy sundress, cutoff jean shorts, sneakers and a cell phone. Ghoulish men and women known as the Lost Choir creep around the space and hide in the shadows. Suddenly, a distraught, young woman, Tana Weed (Kate Thulin), runs onto the stage naked, grabs the items and is attacked by the Wolf and Lost Choir.

The production explores Tana’s relationship with her apparent first love, Debo (Maki Borden)—a jovial young man from Benton, Illinois. Lighting designer Masha Tsimring uses the warm light from a worn fridge skillfully to create intimacy as Tana and Debo talk to each other over the phone. Scenic designer Arnulfo Maldonado constructs a psychotic background with black stick figures drawn across plywood walls and a thick rope looming over the stage. On a back wall hangs a picture of Jesus Christ with a green, plastic Christmas garland and red bow.

Tana also experiences a contrasting world of chaos and violence that is ran by Monty Mae Maloney (Xanthe Paige). Monty is a blood collector and uses a cane with an alligator head on top of it even though she walks perfectly well. She is also the girlfriend of Tana’s older brother, Dothan (William Apps). Dothan is a dishonorably discharged veteran who spends his time silently tinkering with electronic gadgets. Monty’s gang consists of Aikin (Karen Eilbacher) and Ansel Pinwood (Mike Swift), who goes by Pin. Aikin appears to be a masculine lesbian and eats the purple flowers to get high. Pin runs onto the stage half-naked with a printed copy of Miley Cyrus’ face taped to a blow-up doll. He has sex with the doll over the mound of dirt. Monty ensures that her crew have their intravenous medical ports working properly so that she can draw blood from them.

Theatergoers experience Tana’s worlds as though they are sitting right next to her, and this intimacy is the real value of this production. When Monty slams Tana’s head into the fridge, audience members might even get fake blood splattered on their clothes. The fresh soil from the center mound of earth and burning incense also brings a sense of smell to these worlds. Tana’s life is exposed, criticized and objectified. Nothing, including Tana’s virginity, is not left unjudged. Under Rapp’s direction, The Flea Theater’s resident volunteer acting company, The Bats, have these worlds come alive in raw form.

Rapp and the cast make bold choices and commit to them, but the challenge is having these choices payoff with theatergoers. The vulgarity in some of the scenes can create distance for theatergoers who are trying to relate to the characters and understand the storyline. It is awkward watching the Wolf engage with audience members when the audience is still just trying to figure out what is going on. The overall aim and vision can be unclear and other markets may not respond to this material.

At the same time there is so much depth to these characters that each of them could have their own play written about them. The issues are rooted more so in the characters and not the plot. Each character’s stand is like figments of Tana’s imagination. The violence, nudity and sexual situations do effectively show the characters’ vulnerability, desperation and fears–even when theatergoers have already seen enough.

Wolf in the River is recommended for theatergoers who want to be challenged and still have the patience to see what this production has to offer at the end. It is not recommended for those seeking a nicely woven and easy-to-swallow story. Thulin’s performance as Tana is solid and her ability to stay in character and be innocent while going through hell is very impressive. Tana’s hunched shoulders and bloody nose suggests that she is timid and defeated, but her determination to leave her hometown and run away with Debo stays present in her eyes. She is not a victim, but a survivor who hides her reality from Debo. The audience is the river and the Wolf says, “You go for miles and your current’s so strong this time a year that the people in this town string ropes across to help folks get to the other side.”

Wolf in the River runs until June 6 at The Flea Theater (41 White St. between Church Street and Broadway) in Manhattan. Evening performances are Monday and Thursday-Saturday at 7 p.m. and select matinee performances are Saturday at 1 p.m. and Sunday at 3 p.m. Tickets range from $20-$100. To purchase tickets, call 212-352-3101 or visit TheFlea.org.

The Steps Before Marriage

For any couple—gay or straight—the road to marriage can be filled with potholes, breakdowns and driving down one-way streets in the wrong direction. David Auxier-Loyola’s semi-autobiographical The EnGaygement, follows the evolution of his relationship with Carlos (Seph Stanek) from dating to getting engaged in New York City. The EnGaygement was originally written to be a musical and is still being further developed. Its current version is being directed by Duncan Pflaster and performed as a cabaret show at the Metropolitan Room.

The production opens with the group song, “Just Another Night,” and David singing about spending another evening at a gay bar and longing for a soulmate. Carlos sings about looking for sex at a gay leather bar called the Eagle. David appears awkward, lonely and indecisive, and Carlos is determined and focused. After the group song, David cannot decide if he should call his diary a journal because “journal” sounds more masculine for a 35‐year‐old man. Instead of reading from his diary-journal entries, David suddenly performs the song, “Like a Perfect Song.” David sings about finding true love after having his heart broken and then being alone again in the end. There are 17 songs in this show with 12 A. being a reprise of “Like a Perfect Song.” Musical director and arranger, Mark York, plays the piano beautifully throughout this performance.

In scene two, Carlos starts by saying, “Once upon a time” and then distinguishes that he is not telling a fairy tale but a "manly tale" about a princely, handsome man. Carlos then sings about his many failed relationships and how he is content with dating himself in the song, “Single and Lovin’ It.” Next, David has dinner at the apartment of his friend Colleen (Colleen Harris) and her “southern, liberal, bisexual, agnostic, PC‐hating, musical theater lovin' son of a bitch” husband, Jason (Jason Whitfield). Lastly, cast members Chris-Ian (Chris-Ian Sanchez) and Elliott (Elliott Mattox) provide comic relief.

The value of this production is its characterization of gay culture and its ability to have the characters’ personalities relate with theatergoers. The cast brings high energy and makes the text come alive. Within this space, Sanchez’s remarkable singing and acting talents stand out brilliantly.  Sanchez’s facial expressions and his ability to naturally dive into his character makes this show worth watching. On the other hand, the characters and their challenges seem outdated—like they are all still stuck in the '90s. It is unclear if this production is supposed to take place during the 1990s in New York City. The legalization of same-sex marriage or the popular use of dating apps are not present in David and Carlos’ world.

The ensemble also does not effectively represent the ethnically diverse lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) community in New York City. In doing so, The EnGaygement feels more like it takes place in New Jersey or Long Island. A more conceivable representation of New York City’s LGBT community would be the addition of a transgender character. Colleen and Jason seem more like good friends, siblings or cousins than a married couple in love. Likewise, one of the weaker scenes is when Carlos divulges that a rock hit his neck and he was a victim of gay bashing on Gay Street and Christopher Street.

The larger challenge with the current evolution of this production is its inability to powerfully stand for something extraordinary. Much of the material in this production revolves around superficial antics and heartache that is shared between two grown men who are supposedly in love with each other. It is like spending an evening watching two gay men break up, get back together, break up again, and then sing about why they cannot find love. Some of the cast members also appear to be reading their lines from the script and it gives the impression that the production is more of a public reading. At times, The EnGaygement feels more like a vanity project than a potentially new, bold musical. This limits the production’s ability to travel outside of the New York City market and reach future audiences who are seeking this material. More dialogue between the songs can further develop the plot and characters. Most importantly, Auxier-Loyola can make a bold choice and commit to either having The EnGaygement live in New York City’s cabaret world or as an Off-Broadway musical. Right now, The EnGaygement lives somewhere as a work in progress—like a house that is starting to lose its original floor plan because it is always in a state of renovation.

The EnGaygement is recommended for theatergoers who enjoy listening to live singing while having a drink at a plush venue. It is not recommended for those seeking an accomplished musical or an innovative cabaret show that will leave them transformed. There is no doubt that this production has vast potential and a very talented cast, but its holes are showing because its overall aim and direction fall short.

The EnGaygement runs until June 22 at the Metropolitan Room (34 West 22 St. between 5th Ave. and Ave. of the Americas) in Manhattan. Evening performances are April 21, May 24 and June 22 at 7 p.m. with no matinee performances. Tickets range from $20-$115 (plus a two-drink minimum). To purchase tickets, call 212-206-0440 or visit metropolitanroom.com.

Disasters Change People

Audience participation in Take Care consists of three levels—featured participants, group participants and voyeurs. Featured participants give solo performances, group participants perform with three or more people and voyeurs pretty much just watch. Participants are given instructions with a starting time, starting location, action, ending time and what to do when done. There are six to eight prompts that are to be performed within 50 minutes and the prompts usually involve making sounds, reciting lines and/or moving body parts. On the walls are television screens and digital clocks that count down the time and act as timers. During the performance, anyone—even the voyeurs—can go up to the microphone and pause the performance by saying “hold.” The clock stops and the person holding up the show can share their critique, comments, suggestions or requests about the production and the actors will respond. There is only one “hold” available for the whole performance.

All theatergoers receive personalized customer service from the moment they drop off their coats at the coat check to being escorted downstairs to their seats. Each point of contact provides theatergoers the opportunity to engage with the production before the performances even start. The actors offer the audience members mints and ask, “What is your desired level of participation?” No matter what level of participation a person chooses, the production provides a space for theatergoers to explore how they respond to emergencies and dangerous environments while in group situations.

The Flea Theater’s artistic director, Niegel Smith, partnered with his long-time collaborator, Todd Shalom, to create Take Care. Smith also directs The Flea Theater’s resident volunteer acting company, The Bats, in this production. At times, the actors feel more like supportive audience members or coaches guiding the participants through their scenes. Some of the most memorable, authentic and telling moments happen when the theatergoers share their personal stories at the microphone. For example, one woman shared about being discriminated against at the DoubleTree Hotel in Jersey City during Hurricane Sandy because she was black. Another woman, who had left Singapore because of religious persecution, was confronted with her past when a Singapore news channel wanted to interview her during Hurricane Sandy because she was Singaporean. A bartender talked about spending his time at work in Manhattan donating candles to people during Hurricane Sandy. Later, participants ask their neighbors if they can put their head in their lap or on their shoulder and then everyone watches a video of people kissing each other.

The value of the production is in the range of human emotions that are evoked and experienced by the theatergoers. Climate change, natural disasters, environmentalism, racism and many other subjects are covered throughout the show, but the topics go deeper than just being thought-provoking. Audience members feel alone and isolated within the group and then loving and comforting toward each other. The events have theatergoers distinguish their own resistance to helping fellow survivors. Take Care creates a dual experience where theatergoers feel like “we’re all in this together,” while at the same time, audience members go through their own personal journeys.

The material is relevant to the modern world and reads like it was more likely inspired by Hurricane Katrina than Hurricane Sandy. The production is effective enough as a fluent expression and does not get bogged down with the subject matter. Instead, the theatergoing experiences are personalized. If the overall aim and vision were to see if people really do take care of each other, then playwright and director Smith has achieved this. The play leaves theatergoers in a different place than where they started off.

The challenge with this production is its ability to travel outside of New York City and for theatergoers in other markets to relate. A greater balance between the positive and negative events that take place would make the uplifting scenes occur more natural and less out of place. More live singing and dancing could maximize the performances.

Take Care is recommended for theatergoers who do not mind getting a little wet and who are seeking something different. It is a participatory performance with a cast that really does care about its audience members. It is not recommended for those seeking a traditional theatergoing experience that involves passively observing. The production will likely trigger past events and transform how people relate to each other during a major disaster. It is also a production that theatergoers could experience every night of the week and never experience the same show twice since the participants are always different. Each participant alters the mood of the performance with his or her sharing. The next natural disaster that happens will likely share some of the same emotional elements that are exposed in Take Care.

Take Care runs until Jan. 25 at The Flea Theater (41 White St. between Church St. and Broadway) in Manhattan. Evening performances are Monday at 7 p.m. and Thursday-Saturday at 9 p.m. with no matinee performances. Tickets range from $15-$35. To purchase tickets, call 212-352-3101 or visit TheFlea.org.

Family vs. Video Game

Picture perfect families in a managed neighborhood begin to crack when a popular video game starts feeling like reality. Jennifer Haley’s dark comedy Neighborhood 3: Requisition of Doom shows just how fragile family bonds are when a community encounters a crisis and parents are faced against their teenage children in order to survive. Veteran film director Joel Schumacher adds his vision of Haley’s material and directs a full cast from The Flea Theater’s resident volunteer acting company, The Bats.

The production begins with a voice (Justin Ahdoot) giving instructions to pick up a claw hammer and enter a house. Theatergoers feel like they are walking through Disneyland’s Haunted Mansion and eventually realize they are witnessing a video game called Neighborhood 3. Brazen high school student Makaela (Adelind Horan) flirts with classmate Trevor (Alex Haynes) in her home and offers him Vicodin. Trevor declines the Vicodin and only wants to play Neighborhood 3. Makaela does not want to play the video game because she finds it creepy.  The video game uses satellite technology to map out Makaela and Trevor’s own neighborhood. Trevor believes “sometimes you need a place to be sick” and Neighborhood 3 offers such a venue. Players kill zombies who closely resemble people that the players know in reality.

Neighborhood 3: Requisition of Doom continues on with revolving scenes of self-absorbed parents who are aloof but act concerned about their children playing the mysterious, violent video game. The zealous teenage children are gung-ho about getting to the game’s next level with other players. It is not until the latter half of the play that the two worlds—parents and children—start to collide. Theatergoers who are used to experiencing a play through the eyes of a single main character may struggle since there are 17 characters in this production. The video game does not really have a backstory so there is not a lot of depth to the antagonist.

The video game is like an omniscient intelligence that is not seen but heard and capable of creating horrific events. Theatergoers might feel detached after seeing one scene after another with new characters since the production’s advancement relies on its plot and not character development. After a while, it is like watching recycled characters going through a similar experience without the story moving a few inches until the predictable ending shows up. Following just one family as they struggle through Neighborhood 3 would give theatergoers the opportunity to grasp the depth of what the characters are really experiencing.

The casting and performances are outstanding and Eric Folks is flawless as Steve—a husband whose “wife is taking a break from [their] family so [he is] kind of holding down the fort.” The script provides enough space for the actors to interpret the material and make character choices. Folks brings physical humor and a natural 1950s feel as a father struggling to raise his defiant teenage daughter Chelsea (Madeline Mahoney). As a corporate manager, Steve terminates employees who are not performing, but at home, Steve cannot sack his only child when she does not meet his standards. In the driveway scene, Steve confronts Chelsea and demands that she go back inside their home. Before their emotional exchange turns violent, Steve expresses that he does not know Chelsea anymore and Steve adds humor to the scene by awkwardly walking across the stage. Folks effectively generates charm and sympathy, and then leaves audience members wondering if his character is really as pure as Steve’s clean-cut looks suggest.

Scenic designer Simon Harding creates a space where theatergoers enter by walking across artificial grass and sit in front of cutout trees with a slanted backdrop that resembles a public skateboarding ramp. The space does not feel like a movie set from Tim Burton’s Edward Scissorhands or Beetlejuice, but more like the neighborhood from A Nightmare on Elm Street.  Lighting designer Brian Aldous’ genius use of subtle lighting coming from a tree trunk allows for the trunk to also act as a refrigerator.

The value of the production is in the entertaining and morbid tone about massively multiplayer online role-playing games (MMORPGs), like World of Warcraft, influencing our social interactions and shaping our family dynamics. Haley relies on style and exploits improbable and exaggerated situations in a missed attempt at creating a farce because of the production’s lukewarm plot twists. The play can travel for decades as long as future generations of theatergoers relate to the subject matter. For theatergoers who are only interested in seeing Neighborhood 3: Requisition of Doom because Schumacher is attached as the director, this might not be enough to carry the show. This production is recommended for theatergoers who enjoy seeing a fresh slant on popular culture and are not solely attached to character development or plot depth.

Neighborhood 3: Requisition of Doom runs until Dec. 20 at The Flea Theater (41 White St. between Church St. and Broadway) in Manhattan. Evening performances are Wednesday-Monday at 7 p.m. with no matinee performances. Tickets range from $15-$105. To purchase tickets, call 212-352-3101 or visit TheFlea.org.

Opposites Attract a Solution

Hard and soft qualities and everything in the middle can characterize a man’s masculinity. Mark Borkowski’s two-act comedy The Head Hunter explores masculinity through the contrast of two cousins who take on life’s challenges. Late 30’s writer Casmir (Trenton Clark) and his rugged, older cousin Salvy (Jay Rivera) come from the same family but occur to be from two different worlds.

The production feels more like a family drama and takes place during a winter in Hoboken, New Jersey in Casmir’s outdated apartment. Casmir’s white refrigerator, stove, and oven could have been from the 1950s. The worn rug, antique writing desk and wooden chair with a missing wheel give the impression that Casmir has not left his apartment in years. Casmir’s bland clothes even looks like he sleeps in them and contrasts with Salvy’s new, stylish clothes. Salvy is also taller, stronger and has more facial hair compared with his younger cousin Casmir.  The two men do not appear or sound like they are from the same neighborhood.

Salvy challenges Casmir’s ability to stand up to a movie producer who has the rights to Casmir’s screenplay. Casmir mistakenly signed his rights away and does not have enough money to hire a lawyer. Casmir says, “You're right, I was desperate. I needed the money. I needed...the attention. Somebody was recognizin' me.” Casmir and Salvy conspire to get the rights back to Casmir’s script. Casmir prefers to take a polite, gentleman approach when faced with difficult situations and Salvy resorts to brute force. When Casmir finds out that Salvy is a head hunter who decapitates people for the mob, Casmir says, “No, how do we come from the same bloodline?” Salvy says, “What, you sayin' you better [than] me?! ‘Bloodline.’ Hey, don't forget, the same guy who made Christ also made the devil. So go figure. ‘Bloodline.’” Great dialogue like these lines can be heard throughout the play and the value of the production is in Borkowski’s writing.

The writing is worthy of traveling to other markets and easily relates to the modern world. The subject matter is not only limited to New York City and our current time but has universal meaning that can apply to future generations.  Borkowski’s writing sheds insight into the varying moral and ethical principles that people adhere by. Casmir says with great honor that his deceased father had pride and Salvy says, “Pride. I love that fuckin' word. Ya know what that word is? It's an excuse, another excuse for a man to keep himself down.” Casmir counters by stating that his father still had a conscience. Salvy later goes on to challenge Casmir’s masculinity and says, “'Cause [you're] soft. Your insides, they gettin' ripe. [You're] ready to be plucked. Forget that, you are plucked. Like a tomato. It hangs nobly on the tree. Whole and hard, as if it's sayin' don't fuck wit me. It gets soft, it falls off the tree and gets squashed. That's what happenin', my friend. You are getting squashed.” The dialogue is brilliant, authentic, thought-provoking and allows audiences to reflect on their own lives.

Director Richard Gekko has an opportunity to insert his own vision and interpretation of the material. It would be interesting to witness Gekko’s slant on the text. Gekko could also improve the overall pacing of the production. The Head Hunter struggles with timing and could be more intentional. For example, the intermission seems to go on too long and could be shortened. Likewise, when Casmir steps out onto the roof, audiences might start to wonder when Casmir will return. Lastly, Rivera could slow down and take some deep breaths before delivering his lines so his performance has time to sink in with audience members. On the other hand, Clark’s timing as Casmir was on point when he spoke and his performance did not feel rushed and scrambled.

When entering the Abingdon Theatre Complex, a poster for The Head Hunter is not visible. The Dorothy Strelsin Theatre is on the second floor and is not easily accessible via the staircase, but there is an elevator. The theater is intimate and audience members feel like they are sitting in the living room of Casmir’s apartment.

The Head Hunter is recommended for theatergoers who love great writing and appreciate seeing family members from different backgrounds coming together to solve a problem.  Borkowski captures the natural voice of a broken writer and his criminal cousin. Audiences are able to grasp where each character stands as the plot develops. The contrast between the characters is like looking at two sides of a coin. The vision is clear and the aim is accomplished. The writing carries the show and theatergoers will be keen to see any other productions that Borkowski writes.

The Head Hunter runs until Nov. 28 at The Dorothy Strelsin Theatre in the Abingdon Theatre Complex (312 West 36 St., 2nd Fl., between 8th and 9th Aves.) in Manhattan.  Evening performances are Thursday-Saturday at 8 p.m. and matinee performances are Saturday at 2 p.m. and Sunday at 2:30 p.m. Advance evening tickets are $35 and matinee tickets are $20. To purchase tickets, call 212-868-4444 or visit SmartTix.com.

No Pot of Gold

An 8,000-year-old Irish fairy is not to be mistaken for a leprechaun in James McLindon’s Comes a Faery. The production opens with a grown woman (Meghan St. Thomas) acting like an 8-year-old girl Siobhan as she plays with a doll and toy truck. Though it is noted in the script for “a very youthful-looking adult [to] play Siobhan,” the casting does not work. St. Thomas sounds and behaves like a whiny child and looks more like an adolescent who is at the beginning stages of puberty. The mismatch in casting distracts theatergoers from acknowledging St. Thomas’ solid performance and her ability to carry the production. The director Shaun Peknic could have taken the liberty to cast a younger woman to portray the child Siobhan. On the other hand, Josh Marcantel is well cast as the Irish fairy Seaneen. Comes a Faery attempts to capture the emotional and mental impacts that a child experiences when their mother is away overseas serving in the armed forces.

The play takes place in an apartment in Cambridge, Massachusetts and the set design by Kyu Shin is modest and homely with a loveseat, lamp and nightstand. In the background appears to be a wooden stage with three boxes wrapped in beige paper that have light cursive writing. The brown coloring used for the wording is not dark enough to clearly understand what is written. The two large walls on the backstage appear to be a large book and they also have the beige paper with brown wording on them. The light and dark blue and white zebra print floor is distracting and it does not exactly match the blue and white blankets on the couch. The audience members were further distracted from the actors’ performances when a cockroach ran across the stage and St. Thomas killed it by dropping a book on the cockroach. Marcantel tried to sweep the dead cockroach under the stage with his foot, and the experience left a lasting impression with the audience.

Siobhan is fixated on seeing her mother again and is easily manipulated by Seaneen, who has convinced Siobhan that everyone in her life will leave her. Seaneen is never clearly defined as actually being a real, live fairy or Siobhan’s imaginary playmate. This is one example of how McLindon leaves it up to audiences to decide for themselves if Seaneen is real or not. The lack of clarity does not add much to the plot or Seaneen’s character development and actually creates confusion. Siobhan’s pediatrician Dr. Neery (Lori Kee) cannot clearly diagnose Siobhan’s condition or Siobhan’s relationship with Seaneen. When Seaneen convinces Siobhan to catch Dr. Neery on fire with a burning newspaper, Dr. Neery writes off Siobhan’s failed attempt and says, “That which doesn’t kill you makes for a great story later.”  Dr. Neery believes that Siobhan could be experiencing conduct disorder or possibly psychosis. Siobhan’s guardian and Aunt Katie (Michaela Reggio) thinks that it is normal for 8-year-old girls like Siobhan to have an imaginary Irish fairy as a best friend. Katie’s artist boyfriend Raphael (Benjamin Miller) is Siobhan’s only healthy, male role model and he appears to be the only person who can actually relate to her.

The value of the production rests in its opportunity to have a greater conversation about children who are raised by others while their biological parents serve in a war.  However, the lack of clarity and confusing casting has McLindon fall short in clearly delivering a message.  Simply leaving it up to theatergoers to decide what is happening or what the point is, suggests that the material is underdeveloped. The show runs for 120 minutes with an intermission and feels like it lags. A matured production will have theatergoers wanting more and not just waiting for the show to end so that they can go home.

Comes a Faery misses it mark and does not deliver to its full potential. The production would be much more powerful if St. Thomas were cast as Aunt Katie and a teenager played Siobhan. As strong performers, St. Thomas and Miller could compliment each other’s performances if they were paired together as boyfriend and girlfriend. Reggio portrays Katie as a victim of her own circumstances and instead of having theatergoers feel empathy for Katie, she occurs as annoying and tiresome to watch. Miller stands out in comparison to Reggio when they are partnered together. Miller’s energy feels like a sitcom actor. Comes a Faery is not recommended unless theatergoers are willing to overlook its shortcomings and focus on the dynamic performances by St. Thomas, Miller and Marcantel.

Comes a Faery runs until Oct. 24 at the New Ohio Theatre (154 Christopher St. between Greenwich and Washington Sts.) in Manhattan. Evening performances are Friday and Saturday at 8 p.m. Tickets are $18 and can be purchased by calling 347-524-0514 or visiting www.nylonfusion.org.

Finding True Joy

Sex, drugs, alcohol and money does not bring contentment to New York City lawyers, but it is still entertaining to watch the lawyers search for inner peace. Ethan McSweeny directs an accomplished ensemble in Thomas Bradshaw’s Fulfillment. Set in present-day Manhattan, the play covers ridiculous housing challenges and various pathways to self-satisfaction that resonate with New Yorkers.

The play's protagonist is a 40-year-old black lawyer named Michael (Gbenga Akinnagbe), who has worked 80 hours a week for the past nine years at a law firm with the same title of senior associate. Although Michael's colleague Steven started at the law firm the same time as Michael, Steven has been promoted to partner and makes $800,000 a year. Michael’s white, office hookup-turned girlfriend Sarah (Susannah Flood) claims that Michael has not been promoted to partner because of racism. She says, “Just think about it. No women partners, no black partners. I’m telling you this because we’re two of the only people from under-represented groups working here. We need to stick together.”

Whenever Michael’s white boss Mark (Peter McCabe) has a new, black client, Mark “trot[s] [Michael] out like a show horse!” Mark claims that Michael has not been made partner because Michael has a drinking problem.  Mark offers to have the firm pay for Michael to go to rehab, but Michael does not want to be away from work for that long. Michael also just bought a “shoebox in Soho” to live in for $1.5 million and had to borrow $80,000 from his mother’s retirement to help cover the down payment. Sarah says that Michael should instead “be living in a five million dollar apartment.”

This play’s message about happiness not being found in external things is communicated well. The value of this production is demonstrated in how this message is shown through the breakdown of Michael’s life. Audiences witness how Michael’s alcohol dependency feeds his insecurities and ultimately sabotages everything Michael has been trying to create for himself. New York City theatergoers will also easily relate with the intolerable amount of noise from Michael’s upstairs neighbor Ted (Jeff Biehl). The situation only escalates when Michael complains to the president of his condo association Bob (Denny Dillon).

As a grown man, Michael appears naive and boyish and easily manipulated by others. His own identity and sense of self-worth are questionable. Akinnagbe conveys Michael’s innocence eloquently and this allows for audiences to eventually develop compassion for Michael’s struggle. It also softens the cold, robotic, conniving exterior behavior of the other characters. Audiences begin to understand the roots of Michael’s alcoholism when Sarah says, “It’s only natural that you have no idea how to deal with people. You stopped maturing emotionally the second you started to drink [alcohol].” Michael started drinking when he was 16 years old.

As the characters seek fulfillment in their own lives, theatergoers may start to wonder if this production achieves what it set out to accomplish. Even with stellar performances like McCabe perfectly nailing his portrayal of Michael’s boss, the production seems like it is still in its adolescent stages. The material is fresh, quick and current but feels underdeveloped. The scenes tend to be short and end too prematurely for audience members to get the full emotional impact. The creative transitions between the scenes are flawless due to the lighting by Brian Sidney Bembridge and sound by Mikhail Fiksel and Miles Polaski. However, the multiple transitions become disruptive and lose their originality after a while. At times, the production relies on engaging audiences by using intense sexual scenes with masturbation, S&M and full-frontal nudity. Sex choreographer Yehuda Duenyas creates very realistic sexual scenes and it is like sitting on the set of a pornographic film.

Fulfillment does capture modern life in New York City and creates a greater conversation around what motivates and drives people. At the same time, Bradshaw could have focused more on universal, redeeming qualities.  This would add depth to the production’s message and allow for audiences to empathize with the characters’ vulnerabilities. McSweeny could also achieve this through directing the actors to have more emotional range in their performances.

The overall aim of this production falls short, and the production’s message has so much potential to mature and could even be further developed. Despite these weaknesses, the cast is superb and well worth seeing in this production. The Flea Theater has produced award-winning Off-Off-Broadway productions and is known for showcasing current and original material. For those seeking a captivating glimpse into the life of an alcoholic lawyer in New York City who has not come to terms with his alcoholism, then see Fulfillment.

Thomas Bradshaw's Fulfillment runs until Oct. 19 at The Flea Theater (41 White St. between Church St. and Broadway) in Manhattan. Evening performances are Wednesday–Monday at 7 p.m. and matinee performances are Sunday at 3 p.m. Tickets are $35, $55, $75 and $105 and can be purchased by calling 212-352-3101 or visiting www.theflea.org.

Fairy Tales with Scary Endings

German brothers Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm are best known for writing Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White and many other famous fairy tales. There was also a darker side to the Grimms’ earlier works that included child abuse, incest and anti-Semitism. The short stories in Martin McDonagh’s The Pillowman echo the Grimms’ twisted side. The Pillowman takes place in a totalitarian state and deals with childhood abuse. The characters rarely experience a "Disney" fairy tale ending. Audiences are sure to be amused and horrified as this story unfolds.

The production opens with a proclamation from writer Katurian (Kirk Gostkowski) trying to weasel his way out of being tortured: “The only duty of a storyteller is to tell a story.” Detectives Tupolski (Deven Anderson) and Ariel (Paul Terkel) do not buy Katurian’s noble stand as a writer. Katurian recites one of his gruesome short stories The Tale of the Town on the River about a poor, little boy with no shoes who is bullied by the local children. One day the little boy offers a hooded driver a piece of the boy’s sandwich. The driver repays the boy by using a meat cleaver to cut off all of the boy’s toes on his right foot. The driver is supposed to be the Pied Piper and he is riding into the German town of Hamelin to lure away all of the children with his magical flute. Due to the boy’s missing toes, he is unable to walk as fast as the other children. The little boy is not taken away by the Pied Piper and becomes a Hamelin survivor.

Detectives Tupolski and Ariel claim they found the toes of a dead, Jewish boy in Katurian’s home.  The detectives assert there is a connection between the crippled boy in Katurian’s short story "The Tale of the Town on the River" and the Jewish boy’s death. A string of other child deaths could be tied to Katurian’s violent short stories. Out of the four hundred stories Katurian wrote, he says “maybe ten or twenty have children in [them].”  Audiences soon discover Katurian’s inspiration for these morbid stories in a film directed by David Rey. The film discloses the horrific abuse and neglect Katurian’s brother Michal (Kyle Kirkpatrick) experienced by their parents—which permanently left Michal “slow to get things.”

The value of this production is its ability to creatively show the effects of childhood abuse through the eyes of Katurian. As the main character and a family member, Katurian’s perspective is unique because he was never abused. His parents loved him and encouraged him to be a great writer. Audiences are able to connect with Michal’s suffering through Katurian’s love for his brother. Likewise, it is Gostkowski’s stellar performance as Katurian that carries this show.  Katurian appears clever and likable, and at the same time, he feels so slippery. Audiences are left wondering if Katurian is telling the truth or lying about the murdered children in his stories.

Anderson is not fully self-expressed and authentic in his portrayal of Detective Tupolski. Director Greg Cicchino could have Anderson face the audience more often and project his voice so that audience members can get related to Anderson’s character during his opening lines. Instead of gauging the audience’s approval of his performance, Anderson could be more powerful by fully stepping into his role as the lead detective. As Detective Tupolski’s partner, Terkel maneuvers through the action scenes seamlessly in his performance of Detective Ariel. When Terkel slams Gostkowski’s head against the wall, the audience gains a real sense of what it is like to live in a totalitarian state. However, Terkel’s frequent use of herbal cigarettes starts to become a distraction and eventually does not add to his character. Kirkpatrick’s performance as Katurian’s mentally challenged brother Michal adds comic relief when Michal goes on about having an itchy butt.

Production designer Aaron Gonzalez created a simple, gray set that feels like a cross between a makeshift jail cell and an abandoned office during the height of the Cold War. The Chain Theatre is a fresh, friendly, intimate space with a gallery exhibition in the lobby by Tyler Hughes. The seating is connected, and if someone in your row is fidgeting throughout the show, their movements can be felt by others sitting in the same row. There is also simulated gunfire during the production for those who are sensitive to noise.

If you have not had a chance to see a performance of McDonagh’s award-winning play The Pillowman, then this is an opportunity to do so. Since its first public reading at London's Finborough Theatre in 1995, the play has traveled around the world. The use of universal, childhood fairy tales allows for generations to easily connect with the material. It is McDonagh’s take on childhood abuse that is most startling and thought-provoking for audiences to discover.

The Pillowman runs until Oct. 3 at the Chain Theatre (21-28 45th Rd. between 21 and 23 Sts.) in Long Island City, Queens. Evening performances are Wednesday-Saturday at 8 p.m. and matinee performances are Saturday and Sunday at 2 p.m. Tickets are $18 in advance and $20 at the door and can be purchased by calling 866-811-4111 or visiting www.variationstheatregroup.com.

A Slanted Perspective

The reality in New York City and the rest of the modern world can seem absurd, morbid and mysterious from one minute to the next. Troy Deutsch’s In a Tilted Place shows just how strange life can really get. The production is a series of nine outlandish short plays, or wild scenes, and opens with a giddy, young woman (Cassandra Stokes-Wylie) retelling her “very, very real” dream. In her dream, she saw herself as a spirited girl, who had faith in God and ate ice cream at her local Dairy Queen. In her small town she “[biked] down Main Street with streamers on [her] handlebars.” Her story starts to take an unexpected turn when she shares about her first love, an “All-American quarterback.” She had group sex with her football player boyfriend and a brown, squirrel mascot who had “actual squirrel fur,” small paws and human eyes.

These creepy twists and turns are consistent throughout In a Tilted Place, and theatergoers wonder what this show is trying to say about the world we live in. The characters are in environments that seem normal at first and then their circumstances become bizarre and surreal. The female characters are often portrayed as controlling, manipulative, sex-crazed maniacs and the men are aloof, unavailable, drunk or driven mad by women. The value of this production is its ability to present ordinary, day-to-day life as uncanny, odd and whimsical. In a Titled Place is able to disgust, enlighten and provoke audience members.

In the second play, Chanel Chance, a lonely, desperate, young woman Ella (Kelsie Jepsen) sits in a cafe and tries to read Donna Tartt’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, “The Goldfinch.” Ella catches the gaze of a young man (Ronald Peet) sitting at another table and asks, “Are you someone? I’m sorry. But I noticed… Are you watching me? I’ve been looking over here and…” Their quirky exchange quickly becomes heated and even more awkward when Ella discovers that her own father has been paying this young man to spy on her. Ella forcefully kisses the man and demands, “Just look at me. Just smell me. Smell me. Smell my neck. Smell it. Smell it.” It is like watching a weirder version of an episode from “The Twilight Zone.”

This is Peet’s opening scene and his heavenly voice is abruptly overshadowed by Jepsen’s frenzied performance as she dominates the space. Peet is an exceptional actor from the Bahamas who graduated from the Tisch School of the Arts Drama program at New York University. Directors Ashley Brooke Monroe and Courtney Ulrich could balance out this scene by having Peet speak directly to the audience more often and have Jepsen slow down a bit. In a later play, Glowing Dinoflagellates, Peet plays naive and impressionable Benjamin. Benjamin is seduced by a powerful, horny, middle-aged woman (Pamela Shaw) to stay at her vacant inn on a cliff. Peet and Shaw’s authentic chemistry and first-rate performances complement each other extremely well and create a solid foundation for other actors to shine. Sex slaves (Sean Kazarian and Michael Kingsbaker) generously contribute to heightening this scene by bringing comic relief as they ramble on in unison about their torturous stay at the inn.

This production’s material is too insular and will likely not travel beyond audiences who enjoy fringe theater. In Brown Fish, a young woman sits on a bench in a concrete park and confesses to her male friend about her roommate’s poop cabin. She describes the poop cabin as “A brown, self-induced, feces log cabin. Like from pioneer days. But the logs, instead of wood, were made of poop.”  Wider audiences may not appreciate this production’s unconventional subject matter and style.

The set design by Kate Noll is uncomplicated with a few pieces of furniture and gray, bland walls that look like concrete. Viewers get the sense that these characters exist between a rock and a hard spot. It is like watching a group of people living in an emergency exit hallway in the basement of a skyscraper, and they do not know that the building is on fire. This minimalistic approach is not distracting and allows for audiences to focus solely on the performances. The simplicity works when a mermaid (Rachel Moulton) slowly drags herself across the floor and onto the stage in Call Me Daryl Hannah. Audiences are captivated watching her struggle as she pulls her body and huge fin across the bare, hard surfaces to meet a young, drunk man (Kingsbaker) sitting on a park bench.

In a Tilted Place relies on shocking and unusual subject matter to create tension and mystery. Audience members can turn into distant bystanders who are merely observing. As observers, they can become disconnected from these unique characters and not know how to relate. A clearer overall aim and vision could create a deeper appreciation for this production’s willingness to transcend traditional ideas.

In a Tilted Place runs until Aug. 30 at the IRT Theater (third floor of 154 Christopher St. between Washington and Greenwich Sts. in Manhattan). Evening performances are Monday, Friday and Saturday at 8 p.m. and matinee performances are Sunday at 3 p.m. Tickets are $18 and can be purchased by calling 800-838-3006 or visiting BrownPaperTickets.com.

Global Impacts of Genocide

The bodies of about 1,000 dead Muslim men and boys are still missing to this day in the forests of Srebrenica, a small mountain town in Southeastern Europe. During the Bosnian War in April 1993, the United Nations declared Srebrenica a “safe area” in their peacekeeping mission and oversaw a Dutch battalion under Lieutenant Colonel Thom Karremans. In July 1995, commander Karremans failed and approximately 8,000 Muslim males between the ages of 12 and 77 were murdered by the Bosnian Serb Army of Republika Srpska under the "Butcher of Bosnia" Colonel General Ratko Mladić. Today 73-year-old Mladić supposedly suffers from "deception of memory" and struggles with his recollection of past events. At the United Nations, Russia, Britain and the United States are still arguing over if the Srebrenica massacre should be categorized as genocide. This tragedy seems like it happened last week in The International by Irish actor and playwright Tim Ruddy.

Although the Srebrenica massacre inspired the creation of this production and it is loosely based on the actual events, The International is a work of fiction. The United Nations, Srebrenica, Karremans and Mladić are not mentioned anywhere in the script and it takes place during an unspecified armed conflict in Bosnia and Herzegovina during 1995. The International focuses on evoking a greater conversation about the bureaucracy, ineffectiveness and self-righteousness of international peacekeeping efforts. It echoes the characteristics of other historical atrocities like the Armenian and Rwandan genocides.

The well-written script, seamless performances, and intentional direction by Christopher Randolph effectively captures the voices of a beautiful farm woman Irene (Carey Van Driest), an aspiring artist Dave (Ted Schneider), and a naive Dutch soldier Hans (Timothy Carter). The three share their experiences next to seven colorful, abstract paintings that transform throughout the story as the lighting by Derek Van Heel is brilliantly manipulated. As specific colors are intensified by the lighting, the paintings take on different images with great subtly.  The characters appear to be visiting a modern art gallery or museum in Los Angeles or New York by themselves.

At first, the production occurs as three separate monologues, but when the story takes a sudden turn, we are thrown into the interweaving of their lives. The issue at hand is rooted in the plot and the characters eventually show where they stand and their true identities. We witness how this armed conflict impacts Irene’s family, Hans’ personal character, and the $800 bet Dave could win if the enemy is successful at annihilating everyone. Dave would use his winnings to finally take his wife Bani, and their 4-year-old daughter Emery to Disneyland.

For those living in the United States, wars in other countries are often experienced by flipping through television channels or social media sites. Dave represents a demographic in America, and Schneider’s portrayal of him is so authentic that audience members will soon realize that they have met someone like Dave before. As an out-of-work sculptor who is struggling to live the dream in Los Angeles while providing for his family, Dave has a lot to lose. When Dave discovers his daughter is watching the news he says, “Not just the news, but the world news on CNN.” In Dave’s world, international affairs are a foreign language compared with the familiar sports and reality shows he watches in bars. The execution of this character is crucial because Dave provides a lens into this story that is instantly relatable.

This production’s value is in its elusive ability to successfully show the effects of war without overtly preaching, passively whining, or trying to persuade people one way or the other. Audiences are left to draw their own conclusions and make comparisons to similar historical events.  The material is not tear-jerking, but it does call for a standing ovation and is a must-see for general theatergoers. To convert audience members from observers of a staged horrific incident into participants, there needs to be greater emotional pull. The Peter Jay Sharp Theatre is modern and airy with light, wooden seats and exposed brick walls.  Do not take a photo of the stage with your cell phone or an usher may try to enforce the house rules by grabbing your phone.

The International does what live theater can do best, and that is to eloquently and magically show us the world that we are living in. It is a story well worth telling. The subject matter is nothing new, but the ingenious presentation and delivery of this production are powerful enough to have people stop and reflect the next time they are going to watch a war on CNN or Fox News. Audiences will leave this play with a different, possibly profound, perspective about the global impacts of warfare than what they originally had in mind.

The International runs until August 2 at the Peter Jay Sharp Theater (416 West 42nd St. between 9th and 10th Aves. in Manhattan). Evening performances are Tuesday-Saturday at 7:30 p.m. and matinee performances are Saturday and Sunday at 3 p.m. Tickets are $45 and $65 and can be purchased by visiting TicketCentral.com or by calling 212-279-4200.

A Thief for Our Hearts

London’s eccentric thief Mary Frith wore men’s clothing and was supposedly known to be a pimp, pickpocket and reseller of stolen goods. She gained the nickname “Moll Cutpurse” after being arrested for stealing purses. Her reputation inspired playwrights Thomas Middleton and Thomas Dekker to create their comedy The Roaring Girl during the Jacobean era (1567–1625). The title is borrowed from young, drunk men who were called “roaring boys,” and they would pick fights on the streets. The Roaring Girl is filled with campy sexual innuendos and manipulative characters who challenge our cultural beliefs about gender roles, marriage and status.

In this fictionalized dramatization of Mary Frith’s life, Sebastian Wengrave (Jacob Owen) attempts to trick his greedy father Sir Alexander Wengrave (Matt Walker) into allowing him to marry his true love Mary Fitzallard (Anna Clare Kerr). Mary’s dowry is too small to meet Sir Alexander’s demands and he threatens to cut Sebastian out of the family. Sebastian tries to outwit his father by pretending to be in love with infamous thief Moll Cutpurse (Malloree Hill) so that his father will eventually prefer to have Mary as his daughter-in-law, and not an outcast. Sebastian’s plot is thwarted when Sir Alexander has whimsical Ralph Trapdoor (Max Hunter) spy on Moll. Sir Alexander unsuccessfully tries to have Moll steal diamonds so that he can frame her. Moll is too savvy and does not take the bait, and later unmasks Trapdoor when he pretends to be a wounded soldier.

Deceit and seduction are also played out in two other parallel stories about marriage. Laxton (Joel DeCandio) and Goshawk (Ryan Mills) both pursue taking advantage of two married women whose husbands eventually get involved. The ploys and subject matter from this era have withheld time and still translate to modern culture. The test of one’s character ultimately holds more weight than appearances and titles in this production.

After stepping off of a noisy downtown street and walking up four flights of stairs you will find yourself in a cozy space decorated with a rainbow carnival canopy. The warm hardwood floors are inviting as you find your seat at a red jazz club table and play with colorful feathers in glass bowls. There are amusing table signs with written tips for comprehending a Jacobean joke: “If you think it’s about sex, it is,” and “If you don’t think it’s about sex, it still is.” The actors suddenly appear from behind you and they will even put their feet up at your table without asking first. Director Anaïs Koivisto and this youthful, vibrant cast also bring choreographed sword fights and group brawls in beautiful period costumes.

The show runs for two hours and 15 minutes with a 10-minute intermission and might occur as long at first. There was a slight dead period right before the opening and the audience members were left waiting and wondering. However, the live singing, group dancing, and guitar and drum playing, will keep you entertained throughout the entire show.

Hunter consistently provides the needed stamina and physical comedy required to perform as foolish Trapdoor, and he becomes a guiding light throughout this production. His energy is complimented when he teams up with Gull (Quinn Warren) as a disguised soldier. The spunk and moxie that Warren brings to feisty Gull can be summed up when she says, “I am call'd by those that have seen my valour, Tearcat.” At times, Hill lacks the same level of power as the heroine Moll to carry out this show. She does capture some of the masculine characteristics of Moll, such as her stance, and she maneuvers through the sword fights with ease and grace. When challenged or questioned about Moll's reputation, Hill’s facial expressions appeared quietly surprised and passive. It could be more fitting for Hill to not avoid Moll’s defiant history, and instead own her past. If Moll were alive today, she would probably be living her life as she wished and have little or no regard for laws, social norms or being politically correct.

The Everyday Inferno Theatre Company delivers on their commitment to provide classic material to a wide audience while maintaining low production costs in The Roaring Girl. This production is one of two plays in a rotating repertory called Punks & Provocateurs. For those who appreciate Shakespeare and are interested in a sexy alternative, The Roaring Girl is worth your attention. It is not an everyday occurrence to experience Middleton and Dekker’s witty material performed in an intimate and unimposing downtown setting with an eager ensemble.

The Roaring Girl runs until June 21 at the Access Theater (380 Broadway between White and Walker Sts.) in Manhattan. Evening performances are Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday at 8 p.m. and matinee performances are Sunday at 3 p.m. Tickets are $18 and can be purchased by visiting punksandprovocateurs.bpt.me or by calling 347-291-1805.

Great Literary Work Travels

We can instantly access information 24 hours a day on our cell phones about the latest and most exotic places in the world to visit. Our friends and family members share their vacation photos and videos on social media. My younger sister traveled around the world when she graduated from college with her friend from high school, and she inspired me to live in Japan, India, Nepal and Bali. Traveling Papers inspires us to get out and experience the world, or to at least read some great literature about travel. Today we can fly to breathtaking beaches in developing countries, like Costa Rica or Indonesia, and stay at a discounted luxury resort we found online. There are also packaged family cruises to the Bahamas, or one could simply pack their backpack and travel alone through Europe. Our innate curiosity for adventure, exploration and self-discovery can take us to places and cultures we never imagined existed. Creators Barbara Bosch and Martin Tackel take on creating a theatrical journey that reminds us of our innate love for traveling in Traveling Papers.

“Wherever you go, go with all your heart,”—Confucius, and other inspirational quotes from Ralph Waldo Emerson, Blaise Pascal, Henry David Thoreau, and other famous people provide feel-good moments throughout this play. In "The Globetrotter Diaries," photographer Michael Clinton sparks our curiosity to travel to Asia when he shares about being in Nepal and “watching cremations in the tradition of the Hindu religion.” This production is a travel tapestry of literary work from Mark Twain, Edith Wharton, W. Somerset Maugham and Anthony Bourdain. By covering the work of so many profound people within 90 minutes, it does not give the audience enough time to connect with the individual stories. These rich tales touch our hearts and minds and speak to us from the past. It is like recalling the first time you read Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken." The real brilliance of this production is the weaving of all of these stories throughout time and the deliveries are executed with humor and gratitude.

Watching seven actors in beige safari outfits, who are distinguished by their age, gender, weight and hairstyle, lacks the variety to engage the lens of New York theatergoers, and does not represent a universal connection to travel. These similar characters do not speak for the whole population and there is a clear disconnect when the production aims to show how humankind has a deep desire for exploration. The bare, black stage with only wooden chairs and a stack of vintage trunks and suitcases adds to the visual blandness. A more diverse ensemble could add to each character’s unique point of view and create more entertaining contrast.

In scene 15, you will become immersed into the short story, “The Guiding Miss Gowd” by novelist Edna Ferber, and a suspension of disbelief will set in. It takes place in Rome with British guide Mary Gowd (Gwen Eyster) as she attempts to save "Tweetie" Gregg (Jillian Stevens) from being romantically swept away by Italian officer Signor Caldini (Kyle Doherty). Eyster successfully carries this scene with humor and an inner conflict through the mastery of her eyes and facial expressions. Her eye movements are so skillful that the audience is naturally drawn in and instantly curious about the next character she plays.

The ensemble also features Gwen Arment, John Camera, Peter Husovsky and Macy Idzakovich. As one group of actors perform, the others sit silently in chairs along the walls. The performing actors announce their own actions at times, and it can sound redundant. It would be more entertaining if director Bosch instructed the sitting actors to voice the actions of the performing actors.

Traveling Papers does accomplish igniting the kind of unexpected journeys that Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Marcel Proust, Marco Polo, and many others have shared throughout time. The value of this production relies heavily on the past great work of other people. For audience members who are already familiar with these stories, there is a natural cultural context and appreciation. The production would have been stronger with more original content and fewer stories to develop the characters. Traveling Papers is recommended for those who love great literature and the art of travel. Flipping through Facebook, Pinterest and YouTube in search of the next vacation can be stimulating, but live theater strokes an inner yearning to travel outside of what we think we already know.

Traveling Papers runs until June 20 at Theatre Row's The Lion Theatre (410 West 42nd St. between 9th and 10th Aves.) in Manhattan. Evening performances are Wednesday-Saturday at 8 p.m. and matinee performances are Saturday at 2 p.m. and Sunday at 3 p.m. There is no performance on Saturday, June 13. Tickets are $17 and can be purchased by visiting Telecharge.com or by calling 212-239-6200.

A Lost Family

Middle-aged hippie housewife and Beatles’ fan Anna (Deborah Offner) is at the center of her dysfunctional family as she tests her Catholic faith and battles with the “awful monkey in [her] head” during the days before Christmas. The “monkey” is actually a belittling teenage version of herself as Anna 2 (Catherine Dupont), who recalls Anna’s past abortion and drug use. Her Jewish atheist husband Henry (Larry Cahn) suffers from dementia and sleeps his days away on the couch as their adopted 18-year-old son Jude (Adam Weppler) smokes marijuana and seeks his own identity.

Playwright Nancy Manocherian explores how this family struggles with loss, identity and being incomplete with the past. Anna “had to pay for [her] father’s suicide” because of her abortion and Henry stopped “being a Jew” when he was bullied as a boy. Jude never met his biological Romanian mother and believes the “cockroach will survive, but [humans are] on a path of entropy.” Even when Anna is confronted with a life-altering situation, her denial does not allow her to take responsibility for her actions. Hey Jude attempts to venture beyond a psychological inquiry into socially impaired family dynamics and leaves the audience craving closure with these characters.

Jude’s challenge to grasp his father’s dementia is authentically performed by Weppler. The dynamics between Jude and his retired father reminded me of my younger cousin who struggled to make sense of his father’s multiple sclerosis. Jude is so eager to understand Henry, but he cannot relate because Jude has never had dementia. Jude does his best to care for his father and wants to bond by attending sporting events together. Henry brings comic relief by wearing an adult diaper on his head and then later returns wearing Anna’s church hat. Even though Henry’s dementia is the elephant in the room, Anna’s lunacy does not give Henry the space to develop as a character. Also, instead of being an insanity trigger for Anna, Anna 2 could be a stronger antagonist for Dupont to portray. Offner effectively conveys her character's extreme complexities and subtle need to control everyone in her life. Director Kira Simring has the challenge of creating sufficient room for all of these characters to breath so they are not overshadowed by Anna’s mental illness. Hey Jude could be mistaken for Hey Anna.

The set design by Peiyi Wong increases this production’s value with an ideal living room outside of New York City in 2007. The light colored walls, shelves, curtains and hardwood floors allow for the decorated Christmas tree to instantly set the holiday tone. Finding Henry asleep on the plush, brown sofa and holding a pillow with the television on is like standing in a neighbor’s living room. This home is a natural representation of many modern households in America. However, the missing wall next to the xylophone is a distracting black hole and when the actors point at cockroaches there are none to be seen. The morning light in the windows by lighting designer Gertjan Houben adds to the ethereal feeling that the audience is waking up with this family, and we get to see how Henry starts his day.

For audience members who did not grow up listening to the Beatles, they might not relate to the Beatles’ nostalgia that Anna shares, or the era that she experienced as a young woman. The generational contrast can be felt when Jude says, “There’s never anything to eat in this house. Unless you’re a vegetarian, and Paul McCartney doesn’t live here.” Likewise, when Henry refers to the song “Rumania, Rumania,” some might not get the cultural reference or know of Yiddish jazz singers, The Barry Sisters, who were popular during the 1950s. Lastly, when Anna sings her version of Shirley Ellis’ “The Clapping Song” from 1965, some might not recognize the original lyrics. If you are not familiar with these songs, they are worth listening to online and reading the lyrics for their stories.

Hey Jude falls short of conveying a clear message and allows a general audience to draw their own conclusions. It is like driving past a fight on the side of the road and later wondering if the police or an ambulance ever came to take anyone to the hospital. We want to know if these characters ever find any peace or if they just continue to cope with their circumstances. The value is seeing aspects of our own family members in these performances. Hey Jude is recommended for those who are not so concerned about a resolution and are entertained by watching a modern family struggle.

Hey Jude runs until June 21 at Urban Stages (259 West 30th St. between 7th and 8th Aves.) in Manhattan. Evening performances are Tuesday and Wednesday at 7:30 p.m., Thursday-Saturday at 8 p.m., and matinee performances are Sunday at 2 p.m. Tickets are $45 and can be purchased by visiting thecelltheatre.org or by calling Brown Paper Tickets at 800-838-3006.