NSMT’s ‘Come from Away’ Is A Reminder That Inherent Kindness Does Still Exist

Posted by

1

By Shelley A. Sackett

President Obama recently addressed a packed house of over 4,000 adoring fans at Salem State University’s athletic complex. While acknowledging that the current state of politics is “mean-spirited” and “dangerous,” he ended on an uplifting note.

“What people are starved for at the moment is the ability to tell a moral and compelling story about how we live together. … There is an underlying moral fabric to how we see each other and treat each other,” the Salem Patch reported.

He might as well have put in a plug for one of the most uplifting and entertaining musicals that not only fits the bill, but just happens to be playing up the road a piece at North Shore Music Theatre through next weekend.

As timely as it is timeless, ‘Come from Away’ is based on true events in the Newfoundland town of Gander during the week following the September 11, 2001 attacks, almost exactly 25 years ago. The musical follows the intersection of 7,000 passengers stranded in Gander (population 9,000) for five days in the aftermath of the closing of US airspace when all US-bound flights were diverted across Canada, including 38 that landed at Gander International Airport.

The cast of “Come From Away” at North Shore Music Theatre. Photos by Paul Lyden

The 100-minute one-act show does a marvelous job of bringing the audience into the small worlds of the passengers and town folk, each coping with stresses, challenges and unforeseen circumstances. The “plane people” are forbidden to leave their planes for over 28 hours. They have no idea why they have been grounded. They are without supplies, cell service or information about the attacks.

Meanwhile, the town tries to cope with the near doubling of their population amidst a bus driver strike, and the logistics of how to house, feed and care for an onslaught of international frightened and disoriented strangers. Stores donate whatever is needed, mess halls are set up, cots procured and clothes donated. Anyone with a spare bedroom happily offers it to strangers.

Eventually, the passengers are released from their planes, and the town rises to the occasion, not only providing food, sanitation, diversions, but also offering friendship, compassion and just plain old-fashioned kindness.

Conceived by Michael Rubinoff, a Toronto lawyer, theater producer and professor, he hired the husband-and-wife team Irene Sankoff and David Hein to write the show. They traveled to Gander on the 10th anniversary of 9/11 and spent almost a month interviewing its residents. Every character in the play is based on a real person; every event is a retelling of what actually happened.

The result is a show brimming with heart, humor and catchy roots, folk and Celtic-informed music.

Although NSMT seats 1,500, Jack Mehler’s sparse set of a few tables and mismatched chairs and a cast of only 12 who rapidly switch accents, costumes and carriage lend an uncommon intimacy and immediacy to the theater. Lively choreography and crisp direction (both by Kevin P. Hill) and snappy lyrics and dialogue combine to create a show well worth traveling to the North Shore to see. (Note: the stage in this theater-in-the-round is actually square for this production).

The plot unfolds seamlessly through the show’s musical numbers that are chock-full of narrative content. The opening number (“Welcome to the Rock”) gives the audience a through-the-keyhole look at the makeup of the town and its characters, including its mayor, Claude, a news reporter who just happens to be in Gander (Janice), Beulah and Annette (two teachers), and a host of other colorful characters. The ensemble of actors is well-oiled, conveying an atmosphere of ease, contentment, and familiarity.

Just as seamlessly, they move the chairs into two rows of closely packed seats and suddenly we are in the claustrophobic belly of a grounded plane (“28 Hours/Wherever We Are”) seated alongside passengers who are literally in the dark about why they are there. When they are finally allowed to disembark, they are greeted by Army tanks, buses and a landscape that resembles the moon.

Each passenger gets a moment in the spotlight to clue the audience in on their perspective. Bob, a black New Yorker, is wary of the natives’ friendliness and trust. When he is asked to gather all the grills he finds in people’s backyards, he is worried he will be shot for stealing — until he isn’t. A gay couple from L.A. who are both named Kevin have different reactions to Gander’s open arms. Diane, a Texan, and Nick, a Brit, strike up a romance while Hannah, the mother of a New York firefighter, bonds with Beulah as she tries to reach her son. Beverley, an American Airlines pilot, describes what it took to become the first AA female pilot (“Me and the Sky).

Carla Woods (Hannah) and Mary Callanan (Beulah)

There are poignant moments of connection and interaction. The 7,000 plane people have been diverted from all over the world, creating a communication challenge on par with the Tower of Babel. There are ethnic and religious diversities that don’t exist in Gander, yet its citizens welcome and make accommodations for all. Even when tensions rise, tempers flare and prejudices surface (one passenger, Ali, is an American Muslim), the town pulls together and plans a diversion in a local bar.

Lest this starts to feel like a Hallmark fairytale, it bears remembering that the play is based on true events, real people and eyewitness interviews. By the time the plane people are cleared for takeoff, lives have been changed by more than the devastation of the terrorist attacks. Marveling at the hospitality and kindness shown to them by the townsfolk of this isolated outpost in the middle of nowhere, the only reaction they get is grounded in the hope and faith that continues to drive President Obama. “You would’ve done the same,” they are told.

Recommended!

‘Come from Away’ — Book, Music and Lyrics by Irene Sankoff and David Hein. Direction and Choreography by Kevin P. Hill. Music Direction by Dr. Michael McBride; Scenic and Lighting Design by Jack Mehler; Sound Design by Ryan Marsh; Costume Design by Rebecca Glick. Presented by North Shore Music Theatre, 54 Dunham Rd., Beverly through September 27.

For more information, visit nsmt.org/comefromaway

Israeli ballet wunderkind makes his Boston Ballet debut

Posted by

0

Israeli dancer Yuval Cohen is a native of Jerusalem./OFER MOLDOVAN

By Shelley A. Sackett

Growing up in Jerusalem, Yuval Cohen always loved to dance. He started at age six with the Mehola Dance Company, focusing on folk and modern dance, and then joined the Jerusalem Ballet School in 2017, after receiving an excellence scholarship from the American-Israel Cultural Foundation.

But it was not until 2018, at age 15, when he won the gold medal at Russia’s Nutcracker International Ballet Competition and received an invitation to the Vaganova Academy in St. Petersburg, that he realized dancing was more than his passion; it was his destiny.

“It felt so natural to be in a huge theater, performing with an orchestra, even though I’d never seen these kinds of opera houses or even listened to a live orchestra,” Cohen recalled.

After graduation, he continued his meteoric path, first with the Bolshoi Theatre and then with the Philadelphia Ballet, where he was promoted quickly from apprentice to company and soloist. He made history in 2023 when he won the bronze medal at the Jackson International Ballet Competition, the first Israeli dancer to both reach the final round and receive a medal.

Cohen joined the Boston Ballet as an artist of the company in 2026, and the 23-year-old couldn’t be more excited about his move, both professionally and personally. “I love that Boston is super clean, with historic buildings alongside gorgeous skyscrapers, parks and greenery. It’s so relaxing and peaceful,” he said, noting that, when he misses home, he goes to one of the many Israeli/Jewish-owned restaurants.

He will dance in the season opener, “Fall Experiences” in the second piece, “Vertical Road [Reimagined],” a ballet set to an evocative score and driven by rhythmic, elemental movement that explores humanity’s search for meaning. “It’s so intense and so hard on the body, but has such a powerful energy and connection to God and humans collectively,” Cohen explained.

Although he has lived far from Israel for most of his career, Cohen retains deep connections to both his homeland and his Jewish heritage no matter where he resides. Surprisingly, his years in Russia were no exception.

Russia and Israel had better relations from 2018-2021, the years Cohen was there, than they do today. He spent a lot of time at the Chabad synagogue in Saint Petersburg. “It made me feel very close to home and kept me connected to the traditions that I grew up with in Israel,” he said.

The Russian appreciation for the art of ballet was equally surprising, unlike anything he had experienced anywhere else. “Being an artist in Russia is like being a Hollywood star in America,” he said, recounting the time a taxi driver asked him for his autograph when he heard he was a ballet dancer.

After the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023, Cohen became very active and vocal in his support of Israel. By coincidence, he was scheduled to perform his first featured role with the Philadelphia Ballet – Escamillo in “Carmen” – that very night. He dedicated his performance to Israel and the hostages. “It was my way of serving Israel, like my brothers and our soldiers, but in my field,” he said.

With the hostages back, he is happier and relieved, but is still scared to look at what news he has awakened to. He is aware of the international damage the war has caused, and he remains committed to continuing to help however he can, whether by performing at fundraisers or by showing up at simple talks and gatherings. “The Jewish and Israeli communities have to keep supporting each other and Israel,” he said.

He was raised in Israel during times of war and uncertainty in a family that included Holocaust survivors. “This makes you see life differently,” Cohen said. “Jews and the Israelis are, in general, optimistic.” He credits this optimism with keeping him focused and able to push his body and mind forward to continue to break new ceilings in his career.

“I believe everything is a journey. No matter how hard and difficult life is, you must still work and grow. You might not see the light at the end of a dark path today, but it will happen,” he said.

In July 2024, Cohen was selected by Dance Magazine for their “25 to Watch” list of up-and-coming dancers. He performed an excerpt from William Forsythe’s “In the Middle, Somewhat Elevated” for the magazine’s “25 to Watch Live Event.” (Forsythe is an American choreographer who transformed classical ballet into a dynamic 21st-century art form by pushing classical technique to extreme physical and conceptual limits).

Cohen has been fortunate to work with different choreographers and stagers across many repertoire genres, from classical and traditional to modern and contemporary. The Forsythe work is one of his favorites to perform because it “shapes your body and mind in a most interesting way,” he said. Nonetheless, he is always ready to prepare for a classical, full-length ballet because he thinks “it’s most satisfying for the dancers and audience to follow a story and characters on stage in a ballet journey.”

To prepare for his roles, he works with his trusted teacher, Nadya Timofeyeva, the artistic director of the Jerusalem Ballet). First, they read about the character he will perform, looking at paintings, for example, to see their style and how they carry themselves. After gathering this information, the two begin investigating the choreography and what Cohen can do to make himself more in character. “I will be forever grateful that I have her help and guidance with every production,” he said.

Cohen is excited to join the Boston Ballet and the Boston community. “I hope I can bring over beautiful traditions, culture and Jewish Israeli spice to any stage and platform. Being together gives us strength to spread love and happiness to the world,” he declared. Θ

A.R.T.’s ’Rhinoceros’ is A Must-See Knockout

Posted by

0

By Shelley A. Sackett

Eugène Ionesco (né Ionescu) was born in Romania in 1909. He spent most of his childhood in France, returning to Romania with his father in 1925. As a young man in Bucharest, he witnessed the rise of the Iron Guard, a violent and prominent fascist movement, and watched in horror and despair as many of his friends, mentors, and intellectuals embraced its Nazi ideology. When his father, a magistrate, opportunistically shifted toward antisemitism and totalitarian politics in 1936, Ionesco broke off relations with him. The two never reconciled.

Years later, while living in France, he remained deeply scarred by World War II and the way ordinary people had accepted the extraordinary. In 1959, he wrote Rhinoceros, his “Absurdist” play that illustrates how society and herd mentality normalizes extremism. Now in production at American Repertory Theater’s Loeb Drama Center through September 27, this 2-ish hour (one intermission) is a response to and condemnation of the seduction of the surging rise of Fascism and Nazism during the years preceding World War II.

Paul Giamatti and John Turturro in A.R.T.’s ‘Rhinoceros’ Photos by Hawver and Hall

Rhinoceros starts out as an alarming, grotesque anomaly. Quickly, that anomaly is rationalized, debated into legitimacy, and eventually adopted by civic institutions as the new norm, leaving dissenters feeling like they are the ones losing their minds.

If this sounds like 2026 as much as 1936, well it should. The play’s themes of mob mentality, philosophy and (im)morality couldn’t be more timely.

If it sounds dark and depressing, it is that too, but rest assured that Tony Award-winning director Diane Paulus and her star-studded cast (led by John Turturro, Paul Giamatti and Tatiana Maslany) and creative team will mesmerize you with the most energetic, innovative, talented and — yes — hilarious evening of theater this side of Broadway. (Who would have guessed Ionesco could be quite THAT funny about a topic that painful?)

The play opens on a small, provincial French town square. The tidy, attractive café, church and grocery store (set by Riccardo Hernández) are the centers of activity. Bérenger (Turturro) is a low-level clerk who is too apathetic even to hate his job. He nurses a hangover and thirsts for his first drink of the day while awaiting his best friend, Jean, a man as buttoned-up and practical as Bérenger is disheveled and detached. Jean is a man of purpose with nary a moment to waste, except when it comes to criticizing his friend.

Turturro

Ionesco pens his most clever lines for these two, and Obie and Emmy Award-winning Turturro and three-time Golden Globe awardee Giamatti couldn’t be better matched, each electrifying in his own way. Part Vladimir and Estragon, part Laurel and Hardy, they are a winsome duo.

Turturro brings humor and heartache to Bérenger, withstanding Jean’s barbs one minute, regretting his life the next. (“I’ve always tried to live, but I’ve passed life by,” he laments.) His cadence is impeccable, his flourishing gestures and facial expressions works of art.

It is Giamatti, however, who will steal the first two acts (he doesn’t appear in Act III) with his staccato sarcasm and self-serving puffery. He uses his whole body to summon comedic punctuation, shape-shifting (literally) before our eyes.

All is not well in our bucolic town, however. A rhinoceros has been spotted, raging through the streets. Suddenly, one stampedes through town. A second tramples a cat.

The sound (Fitz Patton), special effects (Markus Maurette) and lighting (Jen Schriever) are dark and menacing. We feel the presence of these enormous animals as they blast past. Kudos to these three, who bring the stampede to life without overplaying their hand and turning the sublime into the mundane.

Jean is beside himself, asking everyone what they thought of what happened. “I can’t get over that!” he exclaims over and over. “It shouldn’t be allowed.” Nonplussed, Bérenger tries to rationalize the rhinoceroses’ appearance. Perhaps they escaped from a zoo, he suggests. In any case, it doesn’t matter, because it’s over.

Except it isn’t over and it does matter. Some don’t believe the news reports. (“I never believe journalists. I don’t need them to tell me what to think,” one of Bérenger’s co-workers says). Some think they should be left alone (“Are they harming you?”) Some question the morality of deciding whether to become a rhinoceros or not; others reframe good and evil, wondering whether they are merely “personal preferences.”

Suddenly, townspeople are changing into rhinoceroses. At first, it seems to be against their will. It just happens. There are debates about whether the metamorphosis is caused by a disease, why it is happening, whether it isn’t a good thing after all, and, finally, whether there is any reason NOT to join the crusade.

Even Jean embraces becoming one of the herd. Giacometti’s transformation is such a tour de force of frenzied snorting, frothing and rutting we almost expect him to return for the curtain as a fully shapeshifted rhinoceros.

Act III continues the downward spiral, but without the warmth and humor. A placid co-worker sheds his white button-down oxford for a horn and thick skin. One by one, the entire town “gets used to it.” Bérenger and his girlfriend, Daisy (Tatiana Maslany, the Emmy winner of TV’s “Orphan Black”), are the last holdouts until she too falls under the spell of mass conformity.

Tatiana Maslany and John Turturro

Alone, the last human left standing, Bérenger wonders if he’s made the right choice, then turns on himself. He is ugly. They are beautiful. He is miserable. They are happy. He will come to a bad end. They will triumph.

But be that as it may, he’s not giving up. He may be the last man standing, but he’s not capitulating. Long live Bérenger; long live Ionesco; and long live Diane Paulus and her reign at A.R.T.!

Highly recommended!

‘Rhinoceros‘ by Eugène Ionesco, translated by Derek Prouse, adapted by American Repertory Theater. Directed by Diane Paulus. Scenic Design by Riccardo Hernández; Costume Design by Anita Yavich; Lighting Design by Jen Schriever; Sound Design by Fitz Patton; Special Effects Design by Markus Maurette; Fight Direction by Thomas Schall; Movement Advisor Jill Johnson; Dramaturgy by Ryan McKittrick; Production Stage Manager Ryan Gohsman. Produced by American Repertory Theater in Cambridge, MA through September 27, 2026.

For more information, visit https://americanrepertorytheater.org/shows-events/rhinoceros/

‘Dalloway: First Love’ Is A Romp Through the Beloved Novel’s Genesis

Posted by

0

Cast of Gloucester Stage Company’s “Dalloway: First Love”. Photos by Shawn G. Henry

By Shelley A. Sackett

Ever since high school English classes, where most of us first encountered (and many fell head-over-heels in love with) Virginia Woolf and her seminal novel, Mrs. Dalloway, any speculation about the characters that populate the book has been largely prospective rather than retrospective. What might have happened to these people, so intertwined, next, we wondered. Few, if any, even thought about what Clarissa Dalloway might have been like as a teenager, or the origins of the relationships woven into the tapestry of her life.

Luckily, playwright Lindsay Joelle (TRAYF, The Garbologists) not only pondered, but dug in and applied her creative juices to pen Dalloway: First Love, a creditable version of 18-year-old Clarissa and her cohorts during one indelible summer. Her play is the perfect backstory —  it enriches Woolf’s novel for those familiar with its characters without alienating or abandoning those who have never read it.

It also makes for an enjoyable theatrical experience, especially when paired with a (mostly) exceptional cast, outstanding direction, and stunning set. Gloucester Stage Company presents this world premiere through August 29, and it is well worth the trip up the coast to see it.

A nutshell version of the novel is helpful to appreciate the play. Mrs. Dalloway covers one day in the life of Clarissa Dalloway, a 51-year-old upper-class housewife, as she walks through her London neighborhood to prepare for the party she will host that evening. She thinks about many people from her past, reliving interactions and replaying conversations. All will be at her party, including a former suitor, Peter Walsh, her husband, Richard Dalloway, and Sally Seton, a firebrand in her youth who shared an incendiary and life-altering kiss with Clarissa and who now has five sons and a husband.

Josephine Moshiri Elwood and Shobhit Piasa

The play opens as a tomboy-clad young woman lolls, book in hand, under a massive tree that is the stage’s centerpiece and around which all the action will take place (set design by Kristin Loeffler). Engrossed, she recites aloud, “Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself,” the first line from the 1925 novel. With that simple reference, Joelle acknowledges that, while her work is of her own invention, she is aware of and pays homage to its underlying source.

In a flash, we are in 1890, 35 years earlier, at the Bourton family estate. Clarissa Parry (a luminous Josephine Moshiri Elwood) is about to turn 18. Motherless since childhood (Woolf’s mother died when she was 13-years-old), she lives with her stern, no-nonsense father (Jesse Garlick, who plays several roles) and desperately misses her sister, whose fatal fall from the set’s massive tree she still grieves (with the help of the opioid, laudanum).

This is the summer she will pursue and be pursued by a number of suitors. They will fall into three categories: those her father prefers, those she prefers, and one lifelong friend who longs to elevate his status from friend to husband. The problem is that Bourton is facing financial ruin (a fact for which her father takes no responsibility) and he has laid a guilt trip on Clarissa that it is her duty to “marry up” and save them both from ruination.

Haley Dyana Schwartz nd Josephine Moshiri Elwood

Peter Walsh (Shobhit Pisa) is the life-long friend. Penniless and of Indian descent (his parents still live in India), he left Oxford under cloudy circumstances and has returned to Bourton to propose marriage to the love of his life. Clarissa is caught off guard, wanting to keep her best friend’s companionship, but unwilling to sacrifice romance to do so. Enter Sally Seton (a deliciously salacious and scene-stealing Haley Dyana Schwartz) and her bag of magic tricks.

At Bourton under dubious pretenses, Sally captures Clarissa’s attention, captivating her with tales of wanton, Je m’en fou behavior and arousing a heretofore unknown passion. When the two share a delicate kiss (at Clarissa’s instigation), Clarissa is left shell-shocked and head-over-heels in lust.

This simmering pot boils over with the arrival of Hugh, a smarmy, wealthy suitor summoned by Clarissa’s father to woo her and save the family homestead. Turns out he and Sally have a backstory. The two squabble like schoolyard rivals, revealing how cunning and duplicitous they both are at heart.

Josephine Moshiri Elwood and Shobhit Piasa

Clarissa, however, has been awakened by Sally to her own homo/bi-sexuality (Woolf herself and Vita Sackville-West shared one of the most famous literary relationships of the 20th century, beginning as an intense romantic affair in the mid-1920s and evolving into a lifelong friendship that lasted until Woolf’s death in 1941). She falls hook, line and sinker for Sally’s picture of a Utopian world where women are free to live without men, on their own terms and in charge of their own bodies and destinies. “There is no need to be anyone but ourselves,” Sally says. She talks of a “Women’s Collective,” and Clarissa is ready to pack her suitcase and abandon stuffy, patriarchal England.

More down to Earth, Peter counsels her that “the privilege to be whoever you are is reserved for the wealthy” which, at least for the moment, includes neither of them. Snotty, snide Hugh (Garlick shines in this role), for his part, maintains the party line of his class and sex — marriage is a business arrangement best left to men to arrange.

There are a slew of other suitors, Clarissa’s sister’s music teacher and even a séance, all of which feel like they serve Joelle’s inexplicable need to run out the clock and pad the character list.

With the arrival of Richard Dalloway (Garlick, perhaps at his most comfortable), the tone shifts from semi-frenzied to semi-gentrified. Richard is Peter’s foil, as cerebral and self-contained as Peter is emotional and impulsive. Yet, he instinctively knows what Clarissa wants and, more importantly, what she needs. Unlike Peter, he doesn’t require a roadmap; he just does it. He may be dispassionate and aloof, but he pushes the right buttons and she is finally able to relax.

While Act II starts out with a bang (the séance), it quickly bogs down as Joelle shifts gears and (again, inexplicably) has her characters catapult into 20th century speculation about women’s rights, racism, and the challenges facing those fighting the good fight. (“See you in 1990,” one character actually says). Fortunately, Joelle rights the ship before capsizing, and we are again in the midst of the summer of first loves, first unrequited loves, and first steps towards lifelong relationships.

Woolf champions those connections forged in 1890 in her novel, where Clarissa relives many events of that summer, including the life-altering kiss with Sally. “She and Sally fell a little behind. Then came the most exquisite moment of her whole life passing a stone urn with flowers in it. Sally stopped; picked a flower; kissed her on the lips. The whole world might have turned upside down! The others disappeared; there she was alone with Sally,” she wrote.

Joelle closes by beautifully bridging the 35-year gap between her play and the novel with a single line. Spoken by Clarissa to Richard Dalloway, it is both indicative of the reins she will hold during their marriage and a direct link between Clarissa’s character at 18 and 51. “I shall always buy the flowers myself,” she informs him, and that, dear audience, is that.

‘Dalloway: First Love’ by Lindsay Joelle. A world premiere production directed by Rebecca Bradshaw; scenic design by Kristin Loeffler; costume design by Chelsea Kerl; lighting design by M Berry; sound design by Aubrey Dube; intimacy direction by Cassie Chapados; stage managed by Carolyn Ferris. Presented by Gloucester Stage Company in Gloucester, MA through August 29, 2026.For more information, visit https://gloucesterstage.com/dalloway/

‘Starf*ckers’ Showcases Writer/Actor John Kuntz in A Tailor-Made Solo Performance

Posted by

1


John Kuntz in Starf*ckers. Photo: Gillian Gordon Photography.

‘Starf*ckers’ — Written and performed by John Kuntz. Directed by Alex Lonati. Lighting Design by Sawyer Grabow; Sound Design by Alex Lonati and Anna Drummond. The run has ended.

By Shelley A. Sackett

When local playwright, actor, director and solo performer John Kuntz débuted Starf*ckers in 2000 at Speakeasy Stage Company, it garnered the Norton Award for Outstanding Solo Performance. Over a quarter of a century later, the 90-minute piece about a handful of characters’ obsession with celebrity and fame has, if anything, mushroomed in relevance, affecting all of us, from adults to young children. With the invention and accessibility of “new and improved” technology and social media platforms, today’s fixation on likes, follows and filters has created its own menu of psychosocial disorders and challenges, including but not limited to anxiety, depression, cyberbullying, and the exaggeration of unrealistic beauty standards.

All of which is not meant to plunge us into despair, but rather to point out how timely and indeed prescient Kuntz’s piece remains.

The intermission-less evening begins with Kuntz chatting with the audience in real, 2026 time. He references reviews when the play first opened (“Joyce’s Choices” raved; The Evening Transcript “not so much”) and contemporary examples of what the show we’re about to see is about (“Sydney Sweeney — look her up”).

Then the lights dim (Lighting Design by Sawyer Grabow) and Kuntz scampers over to a clothing rack which contains all he will need to transform into six characters who have one thing in common: they would all sell their soul (and probably their mother’s and children’s) for fame of the David Bowie variety.

The first character (who bookends the play’s seven vignettes) is a no-talent actress auditioning for a part in Xanadu: The Musical that she will never get. She is presumptive, rude, crude and clueless. She offers to sleep with anyone and everyone before going postal at a “No, thank you” response. Kuntz couldn’t be more convincing as this excruciatingly awful leech.

Sprite-like, Kuntz dashes to the clothing rack, changing from one character to the next with the simplest costume adjustment, his chameleon features fully exploited to theatrical advantage by Grabow’s literally spot-on lighting. He introduces us in turn to five others who were bitten hard by the showbiz bug.

There is a man who spent a brief time as Julia Roberts’ best friend, to a disastrous end. There is Ginger Grant, a Nora Desmond-esque fading actress who recounts her life’s story to a man she is on a first date with. Turns out “Gilligan’s Island” was not as much fiction as fact, and the Professor and Mary Ann were sources of a secret sauce. Kuntz shines in this role, both as performer and storyteller, though the story could be edited a tad to excise repetition and retain audience interest.

In “Pig-man,” the man whose advertising career and life go south after he invests in irreversible self-mutilating surgery, Kuntz is unable to rein in his sheer joy at playing such a revolting, pig-hearted, and scandalously funny clout chaser.

A creepy “Adonis” who looks and sounds AI-created and advertises useless products while repeating, “I say what you want to hear” is next. This one, with its bloodless monologue about conquering and consuming the world and Brown Shirt aura, is a little too close for contemporary comfort.

The evening’s most (and, perhaps, only) endearing character is a retired “Smurfs on Ice” road manager and cat collector being interviewed by Cat Fancy Magazine. Channeling Robin Williams as Mrs. Doubtfire, Kuntz creates a full-fleshed, appealing grandmother type whose backstory reveals humility, compassion and integrity. Fame was never her holy grail, and what she’s doing hanging out with the rest of this motley crew only Kuntz knows, but she is a welcome palate cleanser.

Finally, we are full circle back to that Sydney Sweeney wannabe. While some sketches are more silly than funny and the script could use paring down in spots, Kuntz brings a vibrancy of spirit and talent that is refreshing and unique, and an evening spent with him and his posse of Starf*ckers is an evening well spent indeed.

BTG’s Pitch Perfect ‘Lovesong’ Traces the Evolution of a Marriage

Posted by

0

By Shelley A. Sackett

We have all handled times when, faced with a fork in life’s path, we have had to decide which one to take. Moments, years or decades later, it’s hard to resist wondering how our lives might have turned out had we chosen differently, whether we should regret or rejoice in the one we selected.

In playwright Abi Morgan’s ‘Lovesong,’ in production through August 29 at Unicorn Theatre in Stockbridge, she gifts her audience with a glimpse at a couple at the end of a long and complicated marriage. Over 90 intermission-less minutes, we ride shotgun as Maggie (Karen Allen, resplendent) and Billy (a winsome David Garrison) remember themselves as newlyweds Margaret (Rebecca Brooksher) and William (Shawn Fagan) and, together, trace episodes in their four decades of marriage.

Along the way, there are shared moments of joy, silliness, heartbreak and passion. There are also moments of betrayal, boredom, isolation and retreat, any one of which might have sent any one of us on a path straight to a divorce lawyer. Yet, through it all, Maggie/Margaret and Billy/William stay the course, navigating the choppiest waters until, at last, they reach the safe harbor of old age.

Shawn Fagan and Rebecca Brooksher

The trigger for this trip down memory lane is Maggie and Billy’s need to clean out the 40 years of stuff they’ve collected during their marriage as they downsize and move on (any more hints would be a spoiler). Each item they unearth sparks memories and instant time travel back to the moment when they first acquired it. Suddenly, their 30-something selves (Margaret and William) appear, reliving that moment as their 70+ selves watch their relationship slowly replay.

And here lies the intersecting brilliance of Morgan’s script, Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright David Auburn’s direction, and Isadora Wolfe’s movement direction. Like the lithest and most appealing dancers, the two couples are on stage together, gliding past each other, seemingly within millimeters, on Alexander Woodward’s stunning two-story set. Complete with kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, staircase and yard, this home is the perfect hearth for a blending of past and present in this sensitive portrayal of aging, memory and indelible connection.

As the play begins, a Medicare-plus-aged Billy stands on the porch, looking over a slightly overgrown lawn and smoking a cigarette. “When I clean my teeth, I always clean them twice… Because our teeth are our legacy, after bones and muscles have dissolved into dust and the earth, our teeth remain. Their value to archaeologists and paleontologists is infinite and undeniable. They reveal what we eat and how we live. I see it as my duty to preserve them,” he informs the audience.

Preserving legacy even seeps into his dreams, he explains. “In my sleep, I am younger.”

He and Maggie (a role that Allen effortlessly owns) talk about the size of the lawn, whether it has shrunk and whether the peaches are ripe enough to eat. Against the backdrop of drumbeat thrum and swelling music (composition and sound design by Scott Killian), they slowly climb the stairs to get ready for bed. Maggie opens the closet door, and Margaret steps out.

Allen

We first meet William and Margaret as newlyweds. Margaret is thrilled by their house, by the prospect of a future full of the patter of little feet. William is a freshly minted dentist who is chafing under the thumb of his boss. Even though the mortgage is stretching their budget to the breaking point, William wants to take out a loan to open his own practice.

He sits alone at the kitchen table, drink in hand. He downs it, goes to the freezer, removes the bottle of vodka, and refills his glass. Twice. When he tells Margaret his plan, she objects. When he tells her he already secured the location and loan, she hits the roof.

For the first time in this newborn marriage, disagreement has arisen. William sees taking a risk as a crucial element of the success of their future together. “There are going to be moments when you have to leap with me,” he says. “Do you trust me?”

The focus shifts back to the present as Billy and Maggie finish preparing for bed. “We can’t stave off the inevitable,” Maggie (Allen) tells Billy (Garrison), continuing the same conversation some 40 years later.

And, just like that, ‘Lovesong’ casts its magic spell. For the rest of the show, we will travel back to those moments that, for specific reasons private to their shared lives, are the bedrock of this couple’s marital narrative.

We witness the good, the bad, the sacred and the profane that take place over the lifetime of this union. They face many bumps in the road — from infidelity and boredom to learning to balance the need to be alone with the realities of marriage. They are loving and they are mean. They cope with childlessness and illness. They rejoice in eating the peach from the tree they plant.

Morgan has a featherlight touch as she hints at the future without tipping her hand. Auburn’s direction is equally understated, and Daniel J. Kotlowitz’s lighting renders the chronological shape-shifting both artful and credible.

It is the cast, however, who really make the conceit work. Allen doesn’t play Maggie; she is Maggie, from her first moment on stage to her last. As Billy, Garrison brings both a boyish charm and sage resignation. The two share palpable chemistry and artistic sympatico.

Fagan’s William wears his heart on his sleeve, moving from arrogant to insecure to sentimental. Brooksher imbues Margaret with a level-headed maturity and candor that meshes, clashes, and blends with her partner.

Shawn Fagan and Rebecca Brooksher

‘Lovesong’ offers its viewers a glimpse through the keyhole at a couple whose marriage survives those crises that present moments of soul-searching questioning: Can I stay in this marriage? Do I want to stay in this marriage? How many have been at that very fork in the road and wondered, decades later, how their lives might have turned out differently if they had chosen differently?

Maggie/Margaret and Billy/William are one of those couples that chose to struggle through together, to sacrifice the small things for the sake of the bigger picture. As the breathtakingly affecting ending illuminates, such a lifetime lived together is a reflection of life’s most resilient, fragile and intimate offerings. Or at least, it can be.

Highly recommended.

‘Lovesong’ — Written by Abi Morgan. Directed by David Auburn. Scenic Design by Alexander Woodward; Movement Direction by Isadora Wolfe; Costume Design by Amanda Roberge; Lighting Design by Daniel J. Kotlowitz; Composition and Sound Design by Scott Killian. Presented by Berkshire Theatre Group at the Unicorn Theatre, Stockbridge, MA through August 29.

For more information, visit BerkshireTheatreGroup.org

In GSC’s Excellent ‘Betrayal,’ Pinter Creates An Endless Loop of Deception

Posted by

0

Liza Giangrande and Tanner Efinger in Gloucester Stage Company’s production of “Betrayal”. Photos by Shawn G Henry

‘Betrayal’ — Written by Harold Pinter. Directed by Shana Gozansky. Scenic Design by Jeffrey Petersen; Costume Design by Nia Safarr Banks; Lighting Design by Amanda E. Fallon; Sound Design and Composition by Julian Crocamo. Presented by Gloucester Stage Company, 267 East Main Street, Gloucester through August 1

By Shelley A. Sackett

The “Droste effect” is a unique visual experience created by the seemingly infinite repetition of a picture within itself, creating a captivating, recursive image that draws the viewer in and leaves them pondering the limits of reality. Like a telescoped hall of mirrors, the effect is of a picture appearing within itself, in a place where a similar picture would realistically be expected to appear, creating a loop that could theoretically go on forever. Named after a Dutch cocoa company whose packaging featured the effect, the “Droste effect” has captured the imagination of artists, photographers, and design enthusiasts alike.

In 1978, it also captured the imagination of playwright Harold Pinter, whose drama, ‘Betrayal,’ is in production through August 1 at Gloucester Stage Company.

Presented in reverse chronological order, the play traces the nine-year cycle of birth, life and death of an affair between Emma (a glorious Liza Giangrande) and Jerry (Michael Underhill), Emma’s husband Robert’s (Tanner Efinger) best friend. We meet our former lovers as they face the fact that their fiery affair is, alas, smoke and ashes. They have not used the clandestine flat they rented in two years. It’s time to face the fact that their love nest is empty and to move on.

We learn that Emma is a gallerist and Jerry and Robert have a personal (going back to college days) and professional (Jerry is a literary agent, Robert a publisher) relationship. Interestingly, all three have one thing (other than Emma and Jerry’s affair) in common — they all make their living as middle (wo)men, peddling and profiting from the creativity of others.

Underhill and Giangrande

Over 85 intermission-less minutes, these three will take a trip down a Droste tunnel where it becomes impossible to untangle the betrayed from the betrayer. Truth, lies and everything in between lurk more in the interstitial pauses than actual conversation, a signature talent of Pinter’s which he hones to a lethally sharp point in this sparse, nine-scene classic.

Because we know how, why and when the affair ends, our attention can focus on unraveling what makes the characters tick rather than figuring out the plot. Pinter dangles clues and then hides them behind a cloud of scant dialogue and nine-month pregnant pauses. More emotion is revealed by the stellar ensemble (especially Giangrande) and their silent but dramatic reactions than by the words they actually say aloud to each other. These are people who live in the shadows, whose dishonesty with each other is only surpassed by their disingenuousness with themselves.

About the only consistent link among them seems to be the belief that monogamy breeds monotony. That and a penchant for conversation that is cerebral, pithy and devoid of passion.

Efinger, Jeremy Beazlie, Underhill

Yet, thanks to Shana Gozansky’s focused, expert direction (she hits that elusive dramatic sweet spot of milking each pause without ever overdoing it) and a top-notch production team and cast, the play rarely lags.

The “Memento” (Christopher Nolan’s cinematic masterpiece) experience begins subtly with a seductive jazz soundtrack (Sound and Composition design by Julian Crocamo) before the play starts, setting a relaxed but sexy tone. As the timeline runs in reverse from 1977 to 1968, so does the soundtrack, sounding more like the Beatles’ “Revolution No. 9” by the end. Jeffrey Petersen’s slick, impersonal set morphs easily from pub to house to apartment to hotel and restaurant. Back-lit walls that silhouette the characters as they change costumes (Lighting Design by Amanda E. Fallon, Costume Design by Nia Safarr Banks) bring reminders of the late 1960s-70s mod, go-go style that featured sharp tailoring, bold colors, and geometric shapes.

All four cast members are superb. Jeremy Beazlie is a tension-breaking relief and delight in his comic waiter cameos. As Jerry, Underhill embodies his narcissistic immaturity and boyish shallowness. Efinger brings an undertone of dissatisfaction and sadness to a character whose anhedonia knows no relief except when he is playing squash.

But it is Giangrande as Emma who anchors the production both plot-wise and by her nuanced portrayal of a complex, perplexed and enigmatic woman whose identity seems dependent on mistreatment by and of men. Beyond all the duplicity, deception, infidelity, competition and power tripping exhibited by our damaged trio, the most chilling moment is Robert’s confession that he hit Emma. “I wasn’t inspired to do it from any kind of moral standpoint. I just felt like giving her a good bashing. The old itch…you understand,” he confides to Jerry.

Like all satisfying theater, ‘Betrayal’ leaves us pondering big-ticket questions. What exactly constitutes “betrayal?” Is it an action? An omission? Is it knowing about the act and saying nothing? Does a betrayer owe loyalty to their co-conspirator or to their partner or to neither? Can only lovers suffer and commit betrayal, or does it extend to strangers?

But, most difficult to understand of all, is why our ill-fated lovebirds thought that renting a flat together would cure their malaise. A placeholder that is neither home not hotel, they set up house, replicating that which is obviously not working in their “real” lives. If it were, they wouldn’t be having an affair, or, now knowing these two as best as is possible, would they?

For more information, visit: https://gloucesterstage.com/

Fast-paced, Colorful, and Highly Entertaining NSMT’s ‘Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat’ Is A Crowd Pleaser

Posted by

1

By Shelley A. Sackett

What a set of pipes Olivia Valli has! The granddaughter of iconic singer and actor Frankie Valli (known as the lead singer of Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons), Olivia has also played her own grandmother, Mary Delgado, in ‘Jersey Boys’ Off-Broadway. As the omnipresent Narrator in North Shore Music Theatre’s excellent ‘Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat,’ she brings an excitement and hip, young vibe to one of the oldest and best-known stories ever told.

Nikita Burshteyn (Joseph) and Olivia Valli (Narrator) and the cast of “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat” at North Shore Music Theatre

It’s a pretty safe bet, however, that this dazzling, high-energy and delightfully entertaining version of the Genesis tale is a far cry from the one you grew up with.

First, a nutshell primer. Joseph’s father, Jacob, had 12 sons, but favored Joseph and gave him the famous multi-colored coat as a gift. This sends his brothers, already jealous of Jacob’s favoritism, nearly over the edge. When Joseph tells them of his two dreams in which all the brothers bowed down to him, they decide to get rid of him. They throw him into a pit and then sell him into slavery. The brothers then dip Joseph’s coat in goat blood and show it to their father, saying that a lion tore Joseph apart.

Joseph ends up in Pharaoh’s court as his favored vizier after he correctly interprets Pharaoh’s dreams, ensuring Egypt’s survival and prosperity during a predicted famine. Joseph’s brothers, suffering in Canaan, travel to Egypt, where they bow before a Joseph they do not recognize (thus fulfilling his prophetic dream) and beg him to sell them food.

Joseph eventually reveals himself, the brothers retrieve their father, and they all live happily ever after, a family reunited and absolved.

How lyricist Tim Rice and composer Andrew Lloyd Webber managed to come up with their inventively fresh spin on this old tale is one of the unheralded wonders of the world.

Precision-perfect direction and choreography by Gerry McIntyre match Robert L. Rucinski’s always luminous musical direction as the cast and children’s chorus sing and dance their way through numbers that range from a country-and-western hoedown and calypso to 1970s disco and 1920s Charleston. There’s even a 1960s hip-shaking Pharaoh as Elvis and a 1970s go-go number. Somehow, it works; Rice and Weber successfully infuse this well-known tale with a mish-mash of styles without sacrificing narrative cohesion or artistic integrity.

To boot, the quality of talent, from dancing to soaring harmonies and swoon-worthy solos (Valli brings down the house several times with her powerhouse voice and comedic timing), is icing on this already delectable cake. The ensemble meshes beautifully, yet supports individual spotlights, such as Brent Thiessen as Pharoah/Elvis, Nikita Burshteyn as Joseph, Eric Jordan Young as Jacob/Potiphar, and Naomi Kakuk’s dance solo as the slinkiest Mrs. Potiphar this side of Michelle Pfeiffer’s Catwoman.

Although ‘Joseph’ is over 130 minutes long (one intermission), unlike other recent NSMT productions, the show feels well-paced, exciting, and interesting, from start to finish. Even if you’ve seen ‘Joseph’ before, seeing it in the round lends a new twist. And if you’re seeing it for the first time, you’re in for a treat — NSMT’s production was worth the wait!

Recommended.

‘Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat’ — Lyrics by Tim Rice. Music by Andrew Lloyd Webber. Music Direction by Robert L. Rucinski. Direction and Choreography by Gerry McIntyre. Scenic Design by Baron E. Pugh; Costume Coordination by Rebecca Glick; Lighting Design by Jose Santiago; Sound Design by Alex Berg; Wig and Hair Design by Rachel Padula-Shufelt. Produced by North Shore Music Theatre, 54 Dunham Road, Beverly through July 19.

For more information, visit https://www.nsmt.org/

Even BinB’s Glitzy Production Pizazz Can’t Hide the Underlying Tragedy of ‘The Great Gatsby’

Posted by

0

By Shelley A. Sackett

It’s not surprising that the current climate of skyrocketing economic disparity and criminal impunity has spawned renewed interest in The Great Gatsby, the story of Jay Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s fictional mega-nouveau-riche man with a mysterious back story and lavish lifestyle. Set in the post-WWI, giddy, glitzy Jazz Age, the 1925 novel depicts first-person narrator Nick Carraway’s interactions with Gatsby, a man haunted by his past and obsessed with reuniting with his former lover, Carraway’s cousin, Daisy Buchanan.

As has been the case with many Broadway in Boston productions, the best quality of ‘The Great Gatsby’ lies in its production value. The giant period musical spares no expense when it comes to extravagant sets (Paul Tate dePoo III), costumes (Linda Cho) and orchestration (Jason Howland). Alas, no amount of moving screens, fancy projections and on-stage gimmickry (including several vintage cars) can mask the fact that beneath the eye and ear candy, this emperor of a production wears no clothes.

Cast of Broadway in Boston’s ‘The Great Gatsby’

There is quite a bit of meat on the bones of Fitzgerald’s tragic tale. It’s spring 1922, and Yale alumnus and World War I veteran Carraway (an appealing Joshua Grosso) has moved from the Midwest to New York City, where he hopes to get a job selling bonds. He rents a cottage on Long Island in East Egg, next to Gatsby (Jake David Smith) and across the sound from his cousin Daisy (a sadly miscast Senzel Ahmady), who lives in the “old money” town of West Egg with her husband, Tom Buchanan (Will Branner).

Glimpses of a plot emerge. Daisy and Gatsby became sweethearts when he was stationed near her before overseas deployment. He was unable to reconnect; she thought he was dead. She reluctantly married the wealthy, brutish and philandering Buchanan because, well, what else was a young single socialite to do?

Now she has a baby, money and a ball and chain named Tom Buchanan.

Staying with the Buchanans is Jordan Baker (Leanne Robinson, a welcome relief), an outspoken flapper, golf champion and childhood friend of Daisy’s. She fills Carraway in on the unspoken details of the goings on in this sad, unhumble abode.

Buchanan (a fellow Yalie who remembers Carraway), for his part, is carrying on an affair with Myrtle (Lila Coogan), who lives in semi-squalor with her clueless, sad-sack mechanic husband, George (Justin Scott Brown). Buchanan pampers her with gifts, a suite at the Plaza, and the occasional broken nose. She all but rubs it in George’s impossibly naive face.

Joshua Grosso, Lila Coogan. Will Branner

Meanwhile, Gatsby explains to Carraway that he built the mansion directly across from Daisy’s house so he could see her. His only mission in life is to win her back. He enlists Carraway’s help in setting up a meeting, which eventually leads to a rekindled affair.

Along the way to its grim and fateful conclusion, ‘Gatsby’ picks up steam with bootleggers, mistaken identities, trysts, deaths and the reveal that the main difference between the rich and the unrich is the latter’s ability to shield themselves from the consequences of their reckless, selfish acts and the former’s fate to clean up the mess and try to keep on keeping on.

If all this sounds like juicy fodder for a gritty drama, it is. What it is not is grist for the kind of run-of-the-mill musical currently in Boston.

In fairness, ’The Great Gatsby’ does a good job of exposing the dark, violent underbelly of the glittering 1920s. But its misguided (though entertaining) insistence on peppering the production with goofy, comic musical numbers feels like a red herring intended to distract the audience from the fact that this is a gossamer version of Fitzgerald’s classic tale.

While most of the cast is in fine vocal form (especially Smith as Gatsby and Robinson as Baker), they are hamstrung by a script that provides little emotional exploration and connection. Branner does what he can with two-dimensional Buchanan and Grosso tries to elevate Carraway above his role as flaky narrator and moralist, but, in Ahmady’s hands, the central role of Daisy is unfortunately (and distractingly) demoted to the trivial.

Nonetheless, if a summer night of razzle-dazzle is what you’re in the mood for, by all means attend (and revel in) this musical version of ‘The Great Gatsby.’ Just don’t expect F. Scott’s ghost to be lurking in the wings, nodding in approval.

‘The Great Gatsby’ — Book by Kait Kerrigan. Based on the novel by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Lyrics by Nathan Tysen. Music by Jason Howland. Directed by Marc Bruni. Music Supervision and Arrangements by Jason Howland; Choreography by Dominique Kelley; Scenic and Projection Design by Paul Tate dePoo III; Costume Design by Linda Cho; Lighting Design by Cory Pattak; Sound Design by Brian Ronan. Presented by Broadway in Boston at Citizens Opera House, Boston through July 19.

For more information, visit https://www.boston-theater.com/shows/citizens-bank-opera-house/the-great-gatsby

Two Couples, Each On the Verge of Connection, Take Different Paths in ‘In Old Age’ and ‘Frankie & Johnny in the Clair de Lune’

Posted by

0


Ebony Marshall-Oliver and Marvin Bell in Front Porch Arts Collective’s ‘In Old Age’

Reviewed by Shelley A. Sackett

On the surface, two plays, both two-handers running through June 28, have much in common. They both center on men and women seeking second chances at connection after suffering through previous unhealthy relationships. Both feature intensely persistent men who face uphill battles convincing the women to see them as life rafts rather than (another) albatross necklace.

Both women resist, terrifying ghosts of their pasts still fresh and evidenced in the emotional and physical scars they bear. They have convinced themselves that they are happy (enough), settled in their aloneness. Fear of repeating past miseries outweighs any desire to explore alternatives; as far as they’re concerned, the possibility of finding real love is a ship that sailed long ago.

Yet, for all their similarities, In Old Age (Front Porch Arts Collective) and Frankie & Johnny in the Clair de Lune (Psych Drama Company) couldn’t be more different.

The eighth and penultimate installment of playwright Mfoniso Udofia’s nine-part Ufot Family Cycle, In Old Age (105 min., no intermission) centers on Abasiama (an expressive, nuanced and captivating Ebony Marshall-Oliver), the 80-year-old Nigerian-American matriarch who lives in the house she shared with her deceased husband in Worcester. The house hasn’t been updated since 2001; there is a rusty coal stove in the living room, the floors creak, the windows are sieves and whatever repairs need to be done, well, Abasiama handles them herself.

She knows the house is falling apart (the play opens with a piece of molding falling off the wall and her trying in vain to stick it back on), but she is content in her cocoon where she no longer has to do anything she doesn’t want to do and where what she has and what she has been is fine with her. At her age, she has no interest in picturing what something could become or in imagining what might come next.

Her daughter, Toyoima, has other ideas. As a surprise gift, she has hired a carpenter to renovate her mother’s home. Abasiama learns all this when Azell Abernathy (a convincingly winsome and equally captivating Marvin Bell) shows up one early morning, banging on her door.

He explains that his church keeps a list of workers whom they send out on jobs. Toyoima contacted his pastor to hire someone to build her mother the house of her dreams. “I’m your man — workman,” he explains to the thunderstruck Abasiama. “It’s been a long time since I met someone with the ability to piss me right off,” she replies.

Their rocky start goes from pebbles to boulders. Azell hasn’t worked in a while and this project will be his last job. “It’s got angel dust on it,” he says prophetically. He is no-nonsense and gung-ho, demanding that she pick out new flooring and wall colors. He is smooth-talking and doggedly enthusiastic, confident that if Abasiama follows his rules, everything will run smoothly.

He never anticipated his client would thwart his every move, battling him tooth and nail with rules and demands of her own. Abasiama may be the feistiest, stubbornest, most independent woman he has ever met. She calls him a “charming bulldozer.”

If he’s going to force her to let him guide and witness as she opens up and embraces change, she wants a quid pro quo from him. Azell has to make himself vulnerable to her too and reveal intimate details about himself. “What kind of man are you?” she asks by way of introducing this idea. “Tell me something about your women.”

As they work through the renovation project, it takes on the tenor of a spiritual renewal for these two. Their ease with each other increases as their relationship unfolds organically. They talk about and own their mistakes. They exhaust each other, exasperate each other, and ultimately trust each other and themselves. They approach the idea of friendship as steady, capable adults, with openness, tenderness and honesty.

Udofia’s script is funny, moving, romantic, emotional and more intimate than a 10-alarm lovemaking scene. She weaves in the ancestral spirits and ghosts that have been integral to every Ufot play. Director Dawn M. Simmons has done a marvelous job, as have Eduardo Ramirez (lighting), Arshan Gailus (lighting), and Jeffrey Peterson (set). Most of all, Marshall-Oliver and Bell are pitch perfect as Abasiama and Azell; they bring an authenticity that hooks us emotionally and artistically.

Frankie & Johnny in the Clair de Lune tackles the same subject of the possibility of second-chance connections to wildly different effect. Frankie, a cagey, hardened waitress, and Johnny, a short-order cook who spouts Shakespeare and declarations of love, work in the same diner. The set (Allie Glavey ) is Frankie’s apartment; its main focus is the bed, where most of the play’s action takes place, including the opening scene of acrobatic sex accompanied by moans and groans of operatic volume and duration.

Wndy Lippe and Cliff Blake in The Psych Drama Company’s ‘Frankie & Johnny in the Clair de Lune’

Frankie and Johnny are on their first date after eyeing each other for a while. Initially lurid, amusing, then (after overstaying its welcome by too many beats— the case in most of the play) boring, this sexual romp sets the tone for the next 150 minutes (one intermission).

The rest of the play takes place over the course of this single evening. Although meant to reveal these two to each other and to the audience, playwright Terrence McNally has given them little to work with. Johnny’s “I love you” and Frankie’s “You really don’t know me” mantras elicit eye rolls and watch checking after the first half dozen declarations. They are both relentless, repetitive, and cardboard, more caricatures than fleshed-out people. They are vulnerable and pitiable, but we don’t care and so we really don’t care if they come together or not.

McNally pays lip service to character development, but never really scratches below the surface. Where Azell is a charming bulldozer, Johnny is more tedious, a demolition derby. He talks over Frankie, dismisses her and starts to creep her (and us) out when he refuses to leave despite her repeated requests for him to do so.

Frankie’s character fares a little better, and Wendy Lippe gives it her all, but there’s little for her to hook onto, and she and Cliff Blake (Johnny) have little chemistry. By the time dawn breaks on our immature pair, we want to congratulate them for making it through the night and ourselves for lasting through the second act.

Before June 28, maybe someone should buy Frankie and Johnny tickets to see In Old Age — they might learn a thing or two about grown-up relationships.

‘In Old Age’ — Written by Mfoniso Udofia. Directed by Dawn M. Simmons. Scenic Design by Jeffrey Peterson; Lighting Design by Eduardo Ramirez; Sound Design by Arshan Gailus; Costume Design by Chloe Moore. A Front Porch Arts Collective production presented by Arts Emerson at Emerson Paramount Center, 559 Washington St., Boston through June 28.

‘Frankie & Johnny in the Clair de Lune’ — Written by Terrence McNally. Directed by Julia Murney. Technical and Set Design by Allie Glavey; Lighting Design by Matthew Breton; Sound Design by Olivia Comolli; Intimacy Coordination by Katie Thorn. Presented by The Psych Drama Company, Inc. & Luckiest Films, LLC at Plaza Black Box Theatre, 539 Tremont St., Boston through June 28.

For more information, visit https://artsemerson.org/events/in-old-age/ and https://www.bostontheatrescene.com/shows-and-events/frankie-johnny-in-the-clair-de-lune/