Aboveground Racial Politics

Underground Railroad Game, a bold and imaginative theatrical piece created by Jennifer Kidwell and Scott Sheppard, is a bawdy satire in which the audience is made to look head-on at the serious issues of race, sexuality, and how we deal with them in the aftermath of slavery. Guided by a thoughtful director, Taibi Magar, the piece exposes the damage that has been done to the national psyche by slavery’s devastating legacy, especially in terms of interracial relationships and the ways we communicate.

Two teachers—Caroline (Kidwell), an African American woman, and Stuart (Sheppard), a white man, are teaching a fifth-grade class project on the Civil War. Dressed as a Quaker abolitionist, Stuart aids a distressed runaway (Kidwell) in a campy tête-à-tête that establishes the sexual energy between the two characters immediately. Then the action abruptly changes to the bright, fluorescent-filled modern classroom where the two are enthusiastically teaching the issues of the Civil War. The teachers quickly include the “class” (i.e. the audience) in the “games” of war, incorporating “safehouse signs” and “slave dolls.” Soon the battle of the sexes is added to the mix, as well as interracial relationships, as the teachers spend time together outside the classroom.

Kidwell as Caroline gives a raw, bold, yet vulnerable interpretation of the African-American woman and her torn relationship with white men. Sheppard’s comical yet painfully exposed performance as Stuart breaks through serious barriers that society doesn’t often discuss. Sheppard and Kidwell’s dramatic exposition feels especially relevant with the racial tensions in the U.S. right now. Magar’s choices as director show the negative effects of slavery’s legacy and the way it has stunted the nation’s ability to heal through open and honest discourse.

The authors use stereotypes of African-American women from old movies such as Gone with the Wind, yet Magar has invested the piece with both melodramatic flair and honesty. Particularly riveting is a segment when Caroline is dressed in Mammy costume in daguerreotype silhouette. As Kidwell plays the runaway slave hiding in the barn, her blood-red, antebellum skirt is the focus as the character sensually moves her arms and upper body in beautiful rhythm with her song that draws Sheppard’s abolitionist to her breast. They offer a tender, painful look at the two characters’ complicated sexual relationship as a result of the shackles of enslavement. Kidwell seductively pulls her skirt up and Sheppard kneels down to her, disappearing in the velvet billows. The skirt eventually becomes a pup tent where the two teachers are discussing social issues and their relationship, foreshadowing the theme of the power of language and the bruises of misunderstanding because of white privilege.

The designers contribute sinister fog, dogs barking, creaking barn doors, crickets, and bobwhites chirping (sound design is by Mikaal Sulaiman) in the distance.

Kidwell and Sheppard have been working on this piece since they met as teachers several years ago; it is produced with the Philadelphia-based troupe Lightning Rod Special. Through the period story, they carefully expose the sexually charged, precarious relationship between African-American women and white men in this country today.

Magar guides them through some volatile moments: triggered by Stuart’s response to the phrase “nigger lover” in a classroom prank, Miss Caroline rears up in righteous indignation into a fiery S&M dance with him that is not for the prudish nor for small children. The two rage against their attraction for each other and the forces that pull them apart, leaving Teacher Stuart completely bare on stage, both physically and emotionally, and Kidwell takes Sheppard to school in an S&M dance that leaves him completely exposed, revealing a sinister essence at the core of their relationship. The play ends with both standing barren and disconnected. But with that, it is clear that only through empathy and open discussion, can we heal from our history’s wounds.

Although the past has left its ugly mark, Underground Railroad Games challenges us to look at our past with honesty and move ahead to a positive future.

Underground Railroad Game plays at Ars Nova (511 West 54th St.) through Nov. 11.  Performances are at 7 p.m. Mon.-Wed. and at 8 p.m. Thurs.-Sat.; matinees are at 3 p.m. Saturdays. Tickets are $35; for more information, visit arsnovanyc.com or call (212) 352-3101.

Days of Drinking Games

Love has a hard road to travel to find itself, especially in this madcap world. It has never been easy for young adults to figure out the mating game, and in Half Moon Bay, a dark and witty new play by Dan Moyer, the lovers meet in the grungy bar of a bowling alley. The two-hander opens to Led Zeppelin and bright lights, then goes pitch-black as the Talking Heads blare in the darkness. The lights (by Mike Inwood) abruptly go full up to reveal Annie (Keilly McQuail) alone at the bar, where she meets the neurotic Gabe (Gabriel King), a gambling addict with too much time and money on his hands. The alcoholic Annie gives Gabe lessons on pickup lines. And so begins a dark comedy about the narcissistic, existentialist, and often self-destructive struggle young adults experience to find themselves.

Moyer’s intelligent yet poignant dialogue reflects what many go through at that period when a person realizes he or she is not a child anymore and is trying to play grownup, but doesn’t know how. Gabe asks, “You here with anyone else?” And Annie retorts smugly, “No I come here alone and bowl by myself, then I go home and cry when I lose.” Amid the humorous banter there is a serious undertone that mirrors the inner struggle of finding love in a hopeless place.

Annie realizes she’s an addict when she discovers she has genuine feelings for Gabe. Although both actors start out tensely over-animated in performance, as they live through what they are doing and build the emotional life of their characters, their desperation becomes compelling.

Reid Thompson’s set is so real it’s surreal, enhancing that unearthly feeling that alcohol and attraction can give. Pictures on the wall tell of past bowling championships; half-empty liquor bottles and dirty glasses whisper of other lost nights. The disarray of Annie’s apartment reflects the disarray of her life.

Choices by sound designer Janie Bullard and Thompson heighten the characters’ emotional state. The muted outside illumination that Inwood has artfully crafted for the Santa Cruz, Calif., setting is particularly effective, as is the way nighttime becomes daybreak as Annie switches from “party-ready” to “Get the hell out of here” mode after their evening together.

Thompson’s set is utilized fully by director Jess Chayes; the actors improvise and evolve in their experience together, and ultimately connect in this mad, mad world. Starting out quick-witted and terse, the evening ends poignantly still and emotionally moving. The play looks at broken children and reprimands society to offer more to them, underlining that young adults need guidance on how to love as well as maneuver through life.

In response to Annie’s story on bad pickup lines like “Your mouth is like a window to the tongue,” Gabe asks her, “It didn’t work, did it?” She sadly replies, “Of course it didn’t work.  Very much.” Yet a good deal of the play is about what is not said; it helps that director Jess Chayes’s choice of music sets the proper tone.

Thankfully, Moyer offers hope in the end for the lovers. After much fear and reluctance Annie does open up and allows Gabe into her heart. There’s a possibility for them to find a true connection.

Lesser America’s production of Half Moon Bay runs through June 4 at the Cherry Lane Theatre (38 Commerce St.). Evening performances are at 8 p.m. Thursday through Sunday at 8 p.m.; there is an additional performance on Wednesday, May 18, at 8 p.m. For tickets, which are $19, call OvationTix at (866) 811-4111 or visit www.cherrylanetheatre.org/onstage/half-moon-bay.

A Stroll Down Memory Lane

The Marvelous Wonderettes, a 2008 jukebox musical that is being revived at Theater Row, shows how far women have come since the days of the Drifters, with naive bobby-socksers at the high school gym lost in crinolines and pink. Roger Bean’s playful show features a nostalgic storyline that spans the decade 1958-68 as it focuses on the lives of four women in high school and then, in the second act, at their 10-year reunion.

Christina Bianco plays the bossy, fiery Missy, who is in love with their teacher, Mr. Lee. Kathy Brier is Suzy, happily in love. Jenna Leigh Green is the vamp, Cindy Lou, and Sally Schwab portrays the ever-duped-in-love Betty Jean. Each character represents a different aspect of women’s issues, whether it’s marriage, work, or loyalty, and the story follows the evolution of women’s rights. As the girls weave their narrative of life since the high school prom around the lyrics of the old favorites straight from the American Bandstand Top 10 charts, the audience gets a sparkling overview of women’s struggles to make their dreams come true.

Under the direction of Tom and Michael D’Angora, the top-notch cast share a glimpse at that journey as they deliver the lyrics of the oldies but goodies, such as “Leader of the Pack” and “Son of a Preacher Man.” The production is full of color and glitz; it feels like memory—the way the mind’s eye makes it pretty and delusional about how simpler the times were then. It is not a thought-provoking, deep show, even though Bean hits on some serious themes, such as women coming together in sisterhood rather than being pulled apart by the social forces that have often oppressed them, though the themes are not fully realized yet.

The women sing with superb harmony (the musical director is William Wade) and dance, perfectly synchronized, to the choreography of Alex Ringler. The well-rehearsed moves work beautifully as the women swirl in their jelly-bean-colored prom dresses, created by Bobby Pearce. All the chiffon and crinoline in rhythm with the music makes an audience sway and bask in the joy of more innocent times. 

William Davis has designed a crisp, clean set of right angles and Day-Glo colors—exactly what is remembered of those halcyon days. With family-friendly slapstick, the direction is perhaps a bit too over-the-top in its pantomimed physicality, but at the same time it is faithful to the period variety shows like those of Red Skelton and Jackie Gleason.

The high school competition between Cindy Lou and Betty Jean over the unseen, two-timing Johnny has the potential to make some important points about women and how they are pitted against one another because of society’s codes, but as yet isn’t strong enough. This becomes more obvious in the second act, when the girls come back to perform at the 10-year high school reunion. A very pregnant Cindy Lou, crying her woes over a faithless husband, embodies the issue of staying committed to a marriage and raising a family in an unhappy union.

Meanwhile, Missy, who is still trying to catch Mr. Lee and yet hold onto her own identity, is a clear reflection of the issues of independence women faced during this period. As the girls rally around her and berate the unawares Mr. Lee (played by an audience member brought on stage), reminding him that “He doesn’t own her,” the ladies improvise terrifically.

This is a classy production with a group of very talented young women. Although it’s a fun blast from the past, we really have come a long way, baby.

The Marvelous Wonderettes is playing at the Kirk Theatre (410 W 42^nd St.) in an open-ended run. Evening performances are at 8:15 p.m. Wednesday and Thursday; matinees are at 2:30 p.m. Wednesday 3 p.m. Sunday. For tickets and information, visit http://www.theatrerow.org/kirknowplaying or call (212) 239-6200.

Breaking Gender Barriers in ‘Shrew’

New York theater is known for challenging the status quo, and  that is what the Queen’s Company is all about—breaking down barriers by creating gender-blind performances of the classics and reaching out to a broader, more diverse community in its perspective on those classics, in particular Shakespeare. Artistic director Rebecca Patterson’s vision shows she understands that Shakespeare transcends time and place. His characters represent all of humanity and hit at a deeper core—the truly humane one. Because every actor was cast according to how her personality fit the role, not according to gender, the production is an organic ensemble theatrical experience.

Patterson, a Lucille Lortel Award winner, is an actor’s director. Every moment in the play was active, honest and alive with brilliance. Having the role of Bianca played by the lovely Sweetie Doll (a blow-up sex doll) was a hysterically funny touch. In that single choice, Patterson shows one of the most important themes of the play—women’s oppression by men’s control of sexuality. Choices in music that fit key moments of the performance further heighten that theme and the emotional tension of this famous love story. Particularly funny yet thought-provoking was the pantomime of a Tina Turner song performed by Petruchio’s motley servants, led by Ashley Samona Baker as Grumio. As they perform, Katharina fights her shrewish instincts to be right. The lyrics and their playful performance reveal the inner conflict of that moment when Kate breaks and realizes she is fighting a losing battle.

The cast is perfect. The entire ensemble deserves praise for playing multiple roles with ease. Elizabeth Preston as Petruchio was spot on. Catherine Dalton as Hortensio was delightful in her Brant Russell physicality. Their playful interaction was reminiscent of Orlando Bloom and Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean. But Preston was no overacting pirate; she was more like Depp in Chocolat—sexy, sensitive, cool. She captured Petruchio’s arrogance and willfulness, but also his vulnerability. Preston reveals Petruchio’s genuine respect and interest in Katharina when Petruchio reflects on how Katharina aggressively deals with Hortensio as the ill-fated music instructor: “Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench. I love her ten times more than e'er I did.” Preston’s performance breaks the gender barriers, yet nothing is overstated or falsely posed. In her direction, Patterson has shown the true meaning of Petruchio and Katharina’s relationship—they represent all the nuances of falling in love and giving oneself over completely to another.

Tiffany Abercrombie is a stoic Katharina, creating a mother of the modern woman. The chemistry between Petruchio and Katharina is crucial to this play, and these two sensual interpretations reveal perhaps a more honest point Shakespeare was making—that love is not a prideful battle but a partnership made from love and respect. Under Patterson’s thoughtful direction, Abercrombie’s heartfelt confession as Katharina, as she infamously reprimands women, becomes more a proclamation of true love. And Petruchio’s response becomes that of a repentant faithful lover.

Their final kiss truly is a declaration of respectful love. It no longer is an issue of man’s will against woman’s but more about how wonderful love can be when it is with the mate who is a perfect match. Patterson’s interpretation gives Shakespeare’s play a fairy-tale ending of renewed faith in love, not a battle of wills and submission.

The set, lighting and costuming were simple and basic, with a dance of colors rich with textured fabrics of wool, fur, and velvet fully enhancing the raw beauty of the time and place of this wonderful play. Muted blue lighting against the brown wools and furs for the servants, the burgundy velvet for Baptista, and the bold red lace for Katharina mirrored the emotions of the characters but also reflected the barriers of caste and class.

Patterson’s talented entourage of technical artists worked seamlessly within her artistic vision. Set designer Angelica Borrero, lighting designer Alberto Ruiz, costume designer Elizabeth Flores and sound designer Beth Lake created an atmosphere that set the tone and playful mood of this timeless story. Patterson and her troupe really honored Shakespeare and all he represents in theatrical history. For Shakespeare lovers, this is a must-see production.

The Queen’s Company’s The Taming of the Shrew runs through May 1 at the Wild Project (195 East 3rd St., between Avenues A and B). Performances are at 8 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday and at 3 p.m. on Sunday. Tickets are available by calling (866) 811-4111. Tickets are 2-for-1 on Tuesday nights. For information, visit http://QueensCompany.org.

Lost in Space

Real theater ignites our sense of moral duty and mirrors what is good and bad in our society. Writer Seanie Sugrue clearly does that in One Way to Pluto!, a seething reprimand of our irrational times. With humor and bite, Sugrue uses engaging dialogue to serve his thematic purpose: that we are fragile and easily broken in a brittle, capitalistic, greedy, political society that has lost its empathy. His characters’ rich dialogue stings in this punked-out philosophical commentary on our world.

Sugrue’s drama is reminiscent of the works of Sam Shepard, Harold Pinter, and Samuel Beckett. The playwright, who also directs, combines quick-witted moments with original music (by the downtown band Acquiesce) to create a CBGBs-style energy, earning its label of “punk theater.” With fine craftsmanship, Sugrue and his troupe, including designers, have memorably fused words and music together.

The story begins when Peter Cooper, a young musician struggling to find himself in New York City, wakes up to an escort, Tiffany (a sexy Jenni Halima), who demands money, and to Sean Dempsey, his irate Irish landlord, screaming for several months’ rent. Peter escapes the tougher realities of life as a poor artist, grappling with his sexuality by shooting up, dressing in drag, and running away.

Patrick Brian Scherrer gives a seismic performance as Peter, whose torment fits Sugrue’s dramatic response to the many serious issues of today. (The character performs a painful drug dance in drag that shows his inner turmoil.)
Sean (Myles O’Connor) as the ferocious landlord fed up with trying to help Peter  espouses the playwright’s views with righteous indignation, spitting out lines like, “Everyone wants to die until they find out they’re going to.”

The Utah-born Tiffany, Peter’s paid-for one-night stand, offers him a no-nonsense perspective on life as she flits around disgusted at his living conditions—dirty and sparse. Social commentary on the city’s housing situation from the escort in ripped stockings really lends the piece a raw, punk edge.

Particularly fun to watch was Peter Halpin’s eccentric performance as Johnny, a “Billy Idol wannabe” Romeo who fires Peter from the band. Halpin’s kinetic, slithery movements were hilarious. Johnny changes persona with each new rock-and-roll fad, and Halpin’s ability to switch from Sid Vicious characterizations to a Rod Stewart “club” performance without forsaking the role of Johnny enhanced Sugrue’s insight into the superficiality of the gentrification of arts in New York City. Contrasting with the wilder moments is a scene when Peter steals from his mother, Molly: Mary Tierney conveys maternal anxiety and shows that an addict’s pain affects those who love him. And Courtney Torres plays a nerdy, college student, Charon, willowy and vulnerable and intruding on Peter’s homestead. Charon’s neurotic fluidity dances in step with Peter’s.

A minimalist set reflects the grit and grunge of the punk scene meshed with a Waiting for Godot motif and works brilliantly. Although manic chaos is on the surface of Peter’s struggle, the power of the play is in nothingness: the tone and mood of the set stand in juxtaposition to the thought-provoking dialogue.

A desperate Peter lands in Strawberry Fields, where he meets a homeless man named Dwight. In this whacked-out world, Dwight is the voice of wisdom, an “alchemist” in the urban desert. Played playfully and seamlessly by John Warren, he offers solid answers to the protagonist’s questions.

The most riveting scene occurs in a psychedelic trip to Pluto, where Peter and Dwight see all that is right and wrong in the world. Scherrer lets loose an inspiring rant about “planet of hate.” They ultimately conclude, as Dwight suspected, that John Lennon was right—“all you need is love.”

The play ends poignantly, with Dwight and Peter in their Central Park homestead, at peace with the world. The dramatic juxtaposition of Scherrer’s high-strung Peter with Warren’s mellow Dwight really captures the pathos of the final moment. While Sugrue berates the world for its hate-mongering, he also offers hope after so dark a journey.

Sugrue and Locked in the Attic, fellow producer Amanda Martin, and the historical 13th Street Repertory all have reputations for being politically bold in their presentations. This ensemble of artists inspires social awakening with an “in yer face” punch.

One Way to Pluto! ends tonight at 8 p.m. Tickets at $15 may be purchased at www.13thstreetrep.org or at onewaytopluto.brownpapertickets.com. More information about the jammin' soundtrack may be found at www.aquiesce.com.

Womanhood Through Rugby

As the final performance of the month-long FRIGID New York at the Kraine Theater, the autobiographical one-woman show "With You!" was an uplifting crescendo to a powerful festival. With You!, written and performed by Una Aya Osato and directed by Nelson T. Eusebio III, starts out as a peppy, quirky coming-of-age story of a young awkward athlete gaining her confidence in her sexuality and herself through college rugby. While Osato energetically transports us through her four years of college rugby, it is easy to see how important these growing pains are to discovering who we really are, what really matters to us, and what's important in the world outside ourselves. As Osato shares her story and how team sports helped her in her self quest, we are reminded that we are a product of our experiences.

Osato is a fireball of electricity as she jumps out in her gym clothes and hypes up all theatergoers. The audience literally feels like they are in the bleachers during the game as she runs, jumps, rolls, and bounces back and forth from characterizations of herself and her teammates. Eusebio, as Osato’s director, knows his performer well and sets her free. She fluidly leaps back and forth acting out the various plays of the game and creating the drama and excitement of winning. The audience can’t help but high five with Osato and cheer her realization of her own power.

As Osato playfully explains the meaning of the rugby songs at the after-party, she also reveals its significance in her social and sexual development as a woman. Osato has the comedic physical talent of a Lucille Ball as she pops from her awkward self to the various girls she is attracted to on the team. Eusebio’s direction allowed her to dance from each very specific character to her own younger self who is left trying to figure out the rules of the game and life. 

Particularly humorous was her interpretation of her budding relationship with one of the more seasoned players who offers her advice on love. Osato’s talent is her ability to reveal the deeper emotional issues by how she builds the physical life of her characters. As she shares her story, she also reminds the audience on the importance of creating early bonds in friendship. And just like the rest of us, it is not until heartbreak and isolation that she really comes of age.

The piece ends with a more mature, confident woman returning to her alma mater to encourage the young athletes of tomorrow. As she reflects back with the wisdom of hindsight, she shares the lessons she really learned during that vulnerable time of development when she discovered her identity through team sports. She learns we must experience the struggles of love and identity to be able to bring about positive change in the world.

While the festival is over, FRIGID NY sponsors eight festivals a year. Visit http://www.horsetrade.info/frigid-festival to learn more about the festival's various events. Una Aya Osato can be seen in various venues across the city and the country and other “Una Happenings” can be found on her website, http://www.unaosato.com. For more information about upcoming events at The Kraine Theater (85 East 4th St. between 2nd and 3rd Aves.) in Manhattan, visit http://newyorkcitytheatre.com/theaters/krainetheater/theater.php.

Tales of the Road to Freedom

Frederick Douglass said, “Slaves sing most when they are most unhappy. The songs of the slave represent the sorrows of his heart; and he is relieved by them, only as an aching heart is relieved by its tears.” It felt like the spirit of Douglas was downtown at the Gene Frankel Theatre, inspiring all who hear the call to go see Pappy on Da Underground Railroad. This heartrending one-man show, developed by cabaret performer Richard Johnson, under the direction of Keith Allan with musical accompaniment by Terry Wallstein is in honor of Black History Month. Johnson soulfully weaves the tales of trials and tribulations on the trail to freedom with Harriet Tubman on the Underground Railroad. With honest, down to earth direction and staging, this charming piece found its perfect venue at the Gene Frankel Theatre.

Raw, vulnerable, intuitive, fiery, wise, and out smarting, Pappy is the culmination of all the heroes of that dark time in American history. Soulfully singing some of the old classic spirituals such as “Wade in the Water” and “Steal Away” Johnson, as Pappy, explains how Harriet Tubman used song to guide runaway slaves to freedom. Through Johnson’s characterizations, we learn about the spirit of a people who were willing to pay the price for freedom and how it takes courage and determination to continue to fight for it.

Long-time cabaret performer Johnson authentically brings to life a part of our past that should never be forgotten. In the storytelling tradition of Haley’s Chicken George or Walker’s Celie, without overacted characterization, Johnson shows us the passion of a powerful survivor in his magnetic Pappy. With pathos, he comically impersonates his giggly first love, Mary, who pined for another. He mimics her obsession for, “Jacob! Jacob! Jacob!” and then tenderly reveals she killed herself by drinking lye after her lover was beaten to death for killing the master’s son who raped her. What hits to the core is how Johnson weaves Pappy’s memory with his heart-rending vocal of “Balm in Gilead,” accompanied by the mournful piano rendering of musical director Terry Wallstein.

Johnson’s subtle interpretation of Harriet Tubman is truly inspired. There is never doubt that Pappy is an authority on Tubman. He tells of his first meeting with the sassy Tubman and how she convinces him to come with her on the freedom trail. With hands on his hips, and a molasses sweet voice, he mirrors her command, to go back south to get her mother.

With assistance from technical crew, Stephon Legere, Luis Rivera and Cesar Perez, Allan uses a minimal set, allowing Johnson’s own energy to create the time and place. Small wooden platforms transform from tree stump to safe house cellar doors to a boat on the river, to train tracks to the north. Johnson guides us by the North Star and the sounds and signals along the riverbanks to freedom. The use of haunting sound effects enhances the menace in the moment, further heightening the historical significance of Pappy’s story.

As Johnson sings the doleful spirituals of those times and interweaves the stories of survival and escape to the Promised Land of Canada, he paints a clear picture of those heroes and villains he deals with along the way. Speaking to the audience as if they were his new group of runaways, Johnson creates the suspense and urgency of the time and place in a very internal and organic way, making his audience feel very much the eminent dangers of the ghostly swamps, in the pitch black night.

Perhaps one of the most suspenseful moments was when Johnson transforms into the racist slave hunter and his dog. As the slave hunter reveals his reasons for hating runaway slaves so much—his favorite boyhood mammy was sold off because of her runaway son—the crescendo of his anger rises with the sound of the barking of his dog. This brilliant direction really enhanced the danger of that moment in the journey to freedom.

Johnson really draws in his audience as his partners on the Underground Trail. When Johnson illuminates on the hidden meanings of the railroad terms, he also sheds light on how significant the building of the railroads were to the emancipation of slaves. Sitting comfortably Indian style, Pappy decodes the meaning of the symbols of the quilts and reveals the ingenuity and sophistication of a people intend on gaining freedom. With the eerie sounds of the river flowing in sync with Johnson’s rich vocalization of the classic, “Follow the Drinking Gourd,” he elucidates on how each symbol will be signs along the way to guide his motley runaways to safety in Canaan, which Pappy declares is the name for Canada. On reaching the Promised Land of Freedom, Pappy leaves us with a sense of hope for the future, as long as we never forget those champions of the past.

In these tumultuous times, Johnson’s exploration of the past is very significant. It encourages us to be as brave and determined as people like Harriet Tubman and all the unsung heroes of that time. In order to change history, we must learn from it. Johnson, in his poignant characterization of Pappy, leaves us with the great message that the heroes of yesterday can inspire the heroes of tomorrow. As Alice Walker said, “Harriet Tubman was not our great-grandmother for nothing.”

Pappy on Da Underground Railroad's last performance was Feb. 27 at the Gene Frankel Theatre (24 Bond St. between Bowery and Lafayette St.) in Manhattan. For more information, visit brownpapertickets.com.

An Unlikely Rom-Com Commute

Who says you can’t find love on a train? Trains are very romantic. Anything can happen on a train. And it does to the two star-crossed maybe/maybe-not lovers in Jerry Mayer’s new comedy, 2 Across at St. Luke's Theatre. Evelyn Rudie (Eloise, among many others), directs a cast that stars award-winning performers, Andrea McArdle and Kip Gilman. Streamlined direction and crisp performances keep this tête-a-tête comedy rolling down the tracks on an early morning commute for an entertaining look at love and the lonely.

Two commuters on a San Francisco BART train meet and duke it out over The New York Times crossword puzzle. And the battle of the sexes is on. Janet, played by Andrea McArdle (polished actress of Annie fame), is a psychiatrist who has just said goodbye to her son who joined the Marines against her wishes. Josh, played by actor extraordinaire Kip Gilman, is an out-of-work advertising man. She is a control freak; he is a freewheeler. They clash.You can always tell a person by the way they do a crossword. And they learn much about each other and themselves as they roll down the tracks competing with their puzzles. Josh inadvertently helps her with her son and she helps him regain his confidence to find a job. As they build up and let down their barriers of emotional baggage, we can relate to the inner yearnings of these two lonely people. After “Granite” Janet’s strategy of helping Josh finish the crossword and tearing down her defenses, they find they are just two vulnerable people with the thought of the romantic possibilities.

Full of quick banter reminiscent of the great classic sitcoms such as "Mash" from which Mayer is renowned, 2 Across is stylish and witty. Gilman is a mix of Al Pacino and Alan Alda; a bit quirky, yet macho, and very charming. Used to enticing women with his wits, Josh is surprised to learn that he has a certain physical appeal as well. McArdle is gorgeous as a neurotic Mary Tyler Moore type. The perfect romantic touch is when Josh recites classic love poems to woo her. All it takes to let her defenses down is poetry, a sandwich and a couple of mini bottles. This is true of any woman, right? Josh finally lowers her stoic resistance and by the time it is their stop, she has conceded she will meet him… or not.

Rudie’s lively direction kept the candid dialogue going. The train setting, designed by Scott Heineman, was so detailed; the intercom voice, the sounds and seats were all so specific. But when the actors stood up, there was no acknowledgement of a moving train. They could have made subtle moves to indicate the jumps and jolts of the train to create the feeling that they were in fact travelling. As nimble as these performers were, there could have been choreographed in-sync movements once or twice that would have really enhanced the overall effect. This is only a minor detail in an otherwise seamless performance by an ensemble of consummate professionals.

At curtain call, they sang a lovely duet that was probably the best part of the show. The play definitely lends itself to music. It would have enhanced the evening to hear more of McArdle’s exquisite singing. She is absolutely gorgeous, but the writing somewhat stifled her, often giving Gilman the wittier lines and more freedom of interpretive movement. The humor at times was a tad bit too old school machismo. McArdle was stymied as the uptight straight liner who gives into the stronger, wiser male. Women are increasingly evolving away from these roles.

But the script was true to life. We trusted the writer and felt safe in the familiar dialogue of two resistant, yet hopeful lovers. Who hasn’t had a fantasy about the person across the aisle doing their crossword, too? We all have those dreams of running away with a stranger on a train. Don’t we? 

Jerry Mayer’s 2 Across is in an open-ended run at St. Luke’s Theatre (308 West 46th St. between 8th and 9th Aves.) in Manhattan. Evening performances are at 8 p.m. on Wednesday and Saturday. Matinees are at 2 p.m. on Sunday. Tickets are $39.50 and can be purchased by calling 212-239-6200 or visiting Telecharge.com. For more information, visit 2AcrossThePlay.com.

Lord Have Mercy

According to Flannery O’Connor, “the basis of art is truth, both in matter and in mode.” And the truth is in the pudding in the revival of The Savannah Disputation, a charming and thought-provoking comedy by Evan Smith produced by Me & She Productions and ManyTracks Inc., at The Cell Theatre, the beautiful artists’ rental space in Chelsea. Set at Christmas time in Georgia, it is an exploration at the battle between the righteous. It’s the Catholics versus the Protestants in Southern style.

Two unmarried prudish Catholic sisters, appropriately named Mary and Margaret (played by Lucy McMichael and Charlotte Hampden respectively) are forced to defend their faith to Melissa (played by Katie Yamulla), an overzealous Protestant cheerleader for Jesus. The situation becomes tricky when they call in the troops, Father Murphy and their parish priest (performed by Michael Gnat) to prove his valor and set the wayward Protestant straight. They all learn some humbling lessons as they try to prove that their idea of faith is right and the other is wrong. Of course, they all learn that maybe they are really on the same side after all and that maybe organized religion isn’t always the best way to save your soul. 

Understanding the details of time and place is necessary to an accurate and convincing set. Sarah Edkins was spot-on with her interpretation of an old-style Southern Catholic home in Georgia. Complete with Better Homes and Gardens and Reader’s Digest on the mahogany coffee table that anyone from the South would recognize—the only missing magazine was Southern Living.

The two sisters are like the good fairies in "Sleeping Beauty" trying to figure out which color Princess Aurora’s dress should be. Both bicker and flit around their pristine cage showing their contrasting temperaments. But Melissa, the enthusiastic holy roller, is no princess. In tight leggings, hot pink valor and flip flops, Yamulla throws on all the Southern charm to sell them on Jesus. Father Murphy is the voice of reason, who in between bites of banana pudding, enlightens them all to certain decrees of Catholicism, forcing the sisters and Melissa to question their own misinterpretations of religious dogmas.

As typical with sisters, one is sweet and unsure; the other is aggressive and hot-tempered. They are true Southern ladies of biblical proportions. While Mary is ready to barricade the fort against the forces of evil that Melissa seems to represent (Protestant white trash), Margaret is much more open to listening to Melissa’s perspective. Demanding that Father Murphy set things straight, Mary is mortified when she learns that the Catholic faith also believes that earthly bodies will rise and go to Heaven—one of the many tenants that Melissa is preaching which Mary is convinced is a lie: “You Christian Delinquent!” This sets her off in a fury to denounce herself from the Catholic faith; she rails in her denial for excommunication which Father Murphy explains to her one cannot do to themselves.

Both actresses are defenders of the faith with a scent of lavender and hot sauce. Director Katrin Hilbe gives leeway for her actors to explore the emotional life of their characters with the rich dialogue created by Smith. Mary defends herself righteously with lines such as “That is the way the Lord made it’s not my fault.” Margaret, bothered and bewildered by the contractions Melissa offers: “I just want to be buried next to somebody I know.” Sweet Melissa justifies her need to convert her wayward hostesses with retorts like “Catholics are just people too when you take away their religion.” Her phone goes off randomly at perfect times in the action with the "Mission: Impossible" theme song ringtone, enhancing the dilemma she faces trying to help guide her new friends to the true way to Jesus.

The Cell Theatre is a cozy performance space that invites the audience into a realistic home environment. The set encompassed the entire space besides the round seating for the audience. A grand piano with family portraits, a Faulknerian settee, doorways off to a kitchen and backyard, and wooden cabinets full of unopened Scotch all create the mood of old school Catholic Georgia. The use of the stairway and upper floor as part of the action was also very effective. When Mary preaches down to the others in her dismay and denunciation of Catholicism, the contrast of the giant mural of El Greco's "Christ Carrying the Cross" on the stairway wall further enhances the play's themes.

After the ammo smoke settles, they all are left shell-shocked with doubts about their religion, while also realizing they have been stripped bare of the canonical veil and are left eating their own humble pie. Through Hilbe’s direction and the ensemble of designers and actors, we see a clear picture of the battle for faith in us all. While letting us laugh at a very deep issue of the dangers of dogmatic religious beliefs, Hilbe's interpretation of Smith's masterpiece leaves us all reflecting on our own belief systems and eating a bit of humble pie, too.

The Savannah Disputation is running until Dec. 20 at Nancy Manocherian's Cell Theatre (338 West 23rd St. between 8th and 9th Aves.) in Manhattan. Tickets are $18 and can be purchased by calling OvationTix at 212-352-3101 or visiting https://web.ovationtix.com/trs/pr/952841 or www.meandsheproductions.org.

A Classic Coming-Of-Age Tale

We all want to know what happened to Tiny Tim, don’t we? Did he grow up healthy and strong? What was his relationship with Scrooge? Did he meet a girl and live happily ever after? The award-winning combination of playwright Alan Knee and lyricist Andre Catrini behind The Astonishing Times of Timothy Cratchit create their concept of what might have happened to Tim and it is magically “astonishing.” Knee and Catrini have a unique and darkly ethereal view of the possibilities of our favorite childhood characters and what happens when they (and we grow up). With a beautiful set, seamless score, perfect casting, and truly inspired direction by Thomas Coté, this thoughtfully written musical brings us back to our favorite Christmas story. It is the grown-up version of the classic tale that reflects the real spirit of life with an authentic Dickens' flair. It is the tale of the true value of our lives and loves and the many lessons learned as we follow our destiny. 

As soon as attendees walk into the cozy, intimate Workshop Theater, we are transported into the era of Dickens. The set, designed by Craig Napoliello, was so specific in detail and every piece had its significance in creating the mood and tone of the play. Under the musical direction of Nathaniel Beliveau, a three-piece orchestra settled into their designated stage area. Consummate in their musical skills, the trio was very much a part of the story. One could imagine them accompanying Nancy in "Oliver Twist." It was a pure joy to watch them involved in the characters’ lives as much as we were, while also playing Catrini’s score beautifully. The costumes designed by Kimberley Jean Windbiel were eerily accurate from the colors to the flow of the fabric. Each costume fit the character perfectly.

While it is a big play in a small space, Coté's direction cleanly created a space for the actors to move and tell their story. It never lagged or wandered; we were always caught up in the moment and delighted by the revelry and magic. He let the actors play. Nathan Gardner was just what one expected Tim as a young man to be. Optimistic and hopeful—a mesh of Pip and Oliver. His wide-eyed wonder at the world and his vulnerability in contrast with his confident repartee with the audience make us believe in Tim. We want him to follow his dreams. His is a delightful yet painful coming-of-age story. Having been taken in by Scrooge after his father’s death, Tim has the option to take over his mentor’s business or go off in search of his own destiny. Of course, he chooses the latter, breaking the heart of Scrooge. While we are sad for Scrooge, we root for Tim in his journey and applaud his success as he grows from his experiences into a more mature young man who realizes his potential as an artist.

Robert Stattel was magnificent as Scrooge. We empathized with him in his sorrow over Tim’s departure. In his perfect timing as he banters with Mrs. Linden (Joanie Schumacher) in the charming song, "A Cup of Tea," he endears us and wins our affections. Through Stattel’s interpretation of Scrooge, we are provoked to think of issues for the elderly in this age, so often cast aside. The relationship between Scrooge and Tim really reflect these timely moral issues. A son must leave and a parent must feel the emptiness of being left behind with just the memories. This bittersweet lesson is enhanced by Stattel’s poignant and moving performance. For example, when Tim confesses, “I feel like a blank piece of paper/like an emptiness echoes inside me." Scrooge entreats: “Empty? How can you feel empty when everything about you is alive?” With these insightful lyrics and lines, we feel the young man’s lust for life and impatience for adventure, in contrast with the old man’s awareness of how fleeting it all is and his desire to just be with the person he loves.

Once Tim leaves the safety of Scrooge’s home, he finds himself in a cheap tenement—a real Dickens' Hot L Baltimore, complete with a dancing parade of characters played by a small ensemble who were hysterically versatile in their segue from role-to-role. Under the skillful choreography of Madeline Jaye, the rhythm and timing of move-to-move made transitions smooth and sleek. Mrs. Poole (played by Virginia Roncetti) as she bossily assures Tim in the song “A Clean Establishment"; Mr. Goldsmith (played by John Martello) always looking for his teeth; and Miss Tulips (played by Kendall Rileigh) pining seductively for her far away lover—all stay true to the spirit of Dickens, in a soiree of song that is classic yet relevant and original. We are as mesmerized as Tim at his new surroundings as they frenetically frolic around him and make him feel at home.

And, of course, there is a girl. When Tim shows interest in the maid, Lucy (played saucily by Hanley Smith), she retorts in her song to him, "Boys Like You": "Silly predictable boys/thinkin' 'cause they know books and art/that makes 'em grown 'n makes 'em smart." The chemistry between Smith and Gardner is felt right away and we look forward to watching their young love blossom. 

As Tim goes off to search for fame and fortune, he stumbles upon the rare opportunity to become the assistant to the great clown, Grimaldi. D.C. Anderson as Grimaldi was sublimely humorous and light on his feet. He was reminiscent of Bernardo Bertolucci in "Children of Paradise" with a bit of the Cowardly Lion comically sashaying around. The supporting cast were Federico Fellini-esque in their playful and skillful swirl of enticement—a fusion of all the motley bunch so wonderfully created by the imaginative lyrics and score. Smith with her lyrical twirling as the flirtatious Aria and Kendall Rileigh as the slinky and flexible Mo-Mo delighted us along with the rest of the quirky troupe (Andy Ingalls and Jeff Paul) in the song, “A Modest Man.”

A powerful musical incites an emotional tilt-a-whirl in the audience. From the heights of excitement at the possibilities of Tim’s success, the story takes us down to the dark abyss of loss as well. It is crushing when Tim returns to an ailing Scrooge. In the song, “The Attic,” Stattel sings reflectively,"The world had given up/but I saw you and I knew/in an endless sort of ways/when all my days are gone/my world could live on in you." His words to Catrini’s music hit at that universal core, really touching that place in our hearts where we feel how precious life and love are. 

While there is room for the expansion of characters—one was left a bit dissatisfied with the writer’s thin explanation to Tim’s family, nor was there any reference to Scrooge’s nephew and his wife. They could have been added to the story although Robert Meksin does a noteworthy job of bringing Bob Cratchit to life in Tim's flashbacks. There were sections in the play where Tim told us the story when we would have preferred to have seen the action, but economy of space was clearly mandatory, and the ensemble talent of the cast with an impressive setting made it work. Gardner’s finale song, “My World,” leaves us with hope for life and all it brings us, both sad and joyous. We see the possibilities of a wonderful world like we always dreamed of as children when we were reading or watching "A Christmas Carol."

This should become a yearly classic on Broadway for sure. Or at least a Tim Burton film. With a bigger cast and stage, it will entertain audiences for a long time to come. It will be one of the “to do for Christmas” traditions for any who have the pleasure of seeing it.

The Astonishing Times of Timothy Cratchit is running at The Workshop Theater (312 West 36th St., 4th Fl. between 8th and 9th Aves.) in Manhattan until Dec. 19. Performances are at 7 p.m. on Thursday and at 8 p.m. on Friday and Saturday; matinees are on Saturday at 2 p.m. and Sunday at 3 p.m. Ticket prices: $18 for general admission and $15 for students and seniors. For tickets, call OvationTix at 866-811-4111 or visit www.workshoptheater.org.

A 'Mansplanation' Set to Music

The legendary director Harvey Cocks once claimed, “An actor must never be afraid to make a fool of himself.” And real men shouldn’t be afraid to be fools, either. At least that is the perspective of the creators of Real Men: The Musical, the playfully vaudevillian show at the New World Stages, an Off-Broadway multi-theater venue in Midtown Manhattan. This new award-winning musical comedy has been brought to New York City from the Actors’ Playhouse in Coral Gables, Florida. The show is cleverly written by Paul Louis and Nick Santa Maria, with impeccable musical direction by Martin Landry and exquisite arrangements by Manny Schvartzman.

Real Men: The Musical is a man’s view of men. As the characters read to us from the Book of More Men, we learn the truth about what goes on in a real man’s mind. Apparently, not much besides sex and sports. At least they are able to laugh at themselves about it. And sing about it. And play with puppets (and themselves) about it. As the piece follows the men in their journey into married midlife suburban crisis, we learn that they do want to understand why they are so stupid. According to the playbill, the play is set in “Present Day” to suggest that some things never change. It also reads that the place is "Everywhere," but Boynton Beach and Boca Raton sure are recognizable. Jerry Seinfeld's parents would love it. And who doesn't love South Florida?

The musical stars Stephen G. Anthony (I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change) along with the writers, Louis (from the 1995 TV series "Jelly Bean Jungle”) and Maria (Secrets Every Smart Traveler Should Know). Under the manly guidance of award-winning director David Arisco, these performers give us a hilarious and harmonious examination into the minds of men. All three performers effortlessly mastered the melodies and harmonies; a real twisted Rat Pack with the Three Stooges. While they were campy at times, that was what they were striving for and they did it well. The inclusion of puppet women heightened their point that men see women as objects with talking heads, breasts and derrières. 

Some of the lyrics were hysterical; some were a bit dated—heard them from my ex-husband and his father, in South Florida years ago. But again, they reiterate the point that men are limited in their thinking and that it is a universal disease. The production definitely caters to the older bridge and tunnel crowd. Married and divorced couples will get it but younger theater-goers might need variety in the music and a younger perspective (maybe the son in the song "That’s My Boy" could appear). The music was well-written and performed, reminiscent of the old great standards—but a bit repetitive in certain spots. There was most certainly room for a rock song, or other style of music, too. And while the men can sing, and move well, an audience does like to see nice legs. Not that Anthony's legs weren’t nice—he looks great in drag. While it was especially delightful to hear these real men’s confessions, the character development could have been further expanded. 

Particular songs that really hit the mark were "I’m Not with Nick" and "Married Man’s Lament," a hysterical number sung by Louis with help from Maria, Anthony and a giant penis. "That’s My Boy" was a real surprise. It was flawlessly carried by Nick, who has a real sense of character, comedic timing and honest acting. Anthony had a powerful voice, nice hair and could really move his hips. Paul was a hoot with the puppets; he really knew how to work them smoothly into his performance. Plus, he looked great in his cowboy outfit and tutu. They all had undeniable chemistry and it was clear they were enjoying themselves. So we enjoyed them, too. We all knew these fellows. They were our fathers and husbands in true form. It was nice to laugh at them and not get in trouble.

Real Men: The Musical is running through Jan. 2, 2016 at New World Stages (340 West 50th St. between 8th and 9th Aves.) in Manhattan. Check the performance schedule here. Tickets range from $59-$79 and can be purchased by calling 212-239-6200 or visiting Telecharge.com.