Oscar E Moore

A bit of British imperialism is on view at the Laura Pels Theatre in what started out as a Tom Stoppard “clash of cultures” radio play in 1991 “In the Native State” that morphed into the retitled 1995 production of INDIAN INK that is now being presented by The Roundabout Theatre.  It is long on rhetoric and short on “RASA” – the “it” factor that makes a creative work “pulse.”  After all it is Tom Stoppard who seldom knows when to stop.

It’s a lethargic, complex period, period piece that is set simultaneously in Jummapur India (1930) and England and India fifty years later where Eleanor Swan (the indomitable Rosemary Harris) reminisces over the letters of her older sister Flora Crewe (a fine and refined Romola Garai) – a scandalous poet with a raunchy past when she traveled to India in 1930 for health reasons.

Or was she also looking for an excuse for another romantic adventure – this time with the shy and nervous Indian artist who loves everything British – Nirad Das (an excellent Firdous Bamji) who paints her portrait while she flirts and writes looking ravishing in her frocks designed by Candice Donnelly?

Eldon Pike (Neal Huff) is digging around for information that he wants to include in a biography of Flora – he is obsessed with her – after the publication of her poems and letters.  Her sister isn’t too keen on supplying any further information.  Or does she not know the truth?  INDIAN INK is in part about how we perceive the people we think we know.

The son of the artist, Anish Das (a fine Bhavesh Patel) also shows up at Eleanor’s doorstep.  The plot thickens like the fog in London as we go back and forth with characters from both eras on stage together – it’s a fine job of keeping the traffic moving that director Carey Perloff pulls off superbly.

She is aided greatly by the unit set of Neil Patel and the beautiful lighting of Robert Wierzel.

The ensemble cast is spot on but do we really need that scene at the British Club that opens Act II – prolonging the almost three hour romantic excursion of Flora with the most dapper and more English than English Lee Aaron Rosen as David Durance of the gin and polo set?

Assisting Mr. Pike in his quest for the real Flora is Nick Choksi as Dilip – who reenergizes the stage and longwinded second act that almost derails the journey.  He is marvelous with his sparkling eyes and wit whenever he appears.

Also keep an eye on the servant Nazrul (Omar Maskati) who manages to steal a few brief moments for himself.

In this economical but attractive production of INDIAN INK you may learn something of the history of the Brits in India but Flora Crewe remains an enigma as the plot evaporates in the heat of the British colony striving for independence.  Through Nov. 30^th

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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www.roundabouttheatre.org

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It’s like stepping into another world.  A fantasy world created by director/choreographer Austin McCormick, the new Ziegfeld of Off-Broadway.  A world of debauchery, provocative pasties, bejeweled jock straps and bare buttocks where one can celebrate with champagne the inventive, inspired and insane creativity of Mr. McCormick in the intimate salon at 428 Lafayette Street – the new oasis of COMPANY XIV – directly across from The Public Theater.

It is the perfect space for ROCOCO ROUGE.  Where arias meet rap.  Where Handel meets Beyonce.  Where Carmen rocks with Peggy Lee and where the inevitable Can-Can finale causes the packed house to cheer.

After last season’s sensational NUTCRACKER ROUGE expectations were high.  Mr. McCormick and COMPANY XIV mostly do not disappoint.  His is a rare combination of styles and music that somehow come together to entertain without a plot.  Just magnificent voices and beautifully toned bodies on stage strutting the period balletic steps – one of Mr. McCormack’s trademarks – and performing numbers reminiscent of Cirque de Soleil.

Suspended from the rafters is a hoop where two beautiful semi-naked bodies sinuously engage in a semi-sexual encounter that is balletic and ballsy.  One of the highlights of the program SONG TO THE MOON sung by a formidable Shelly Watson – the hostess for the evening and magnificently performed by Allison Ulrich and Steven Trumon Gray.

Other aspects of love include the always riveting Laura Careless dancing to Handel in Endless Pleasure while Brett Umlauf effortlessly adds silken vocals; Cyr Wheel Artist, Courtney Giannone repeating her stand out spinning from NUTCRACKER ROUGE.  And Davon Rainey artistically stripping to “Is That All There Is?” while lip syncing to the live vocals of Shelly Watson – who can sing just about any style and range.

The excellent guitarist Rob Mastrianni adds to the second “Break Interlude” – an excuse to order more drinks served by the cordial and charming wait staff.

The costumes designed by Zane Pihlstrom are spectacular, worthy of a Ziegfeld production.  Lighting by Jeanette Yew is artistically perfect.  My only wish is that the sound could be better so that we could enjoy to the fullest extent the soothing vocals of Katrina Cunningham.

Many more surprises await you – I don’t want to spoil all the fun by divulging them.  Tickets are $55 – 125 through November 2^nd. www.COMPANYXIV.COM

Photos:  Phillip Van Nostrand

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There were two Mozarts.  Two child prodigies.  The famous Amadeus (Wolfie) and his older, overshadowed sister Maria Anna (Nannerl).  Maria Anna started playing the harpsichord at eight and by age twelve was an accomplished and acclaimed pianist throughout Europe with a seven year old Wolfgang tagging along – vying for attention and then exploding onto the musical scene with his genius genes that were shared by his set aside and soon to be forgotten sister.  Until now.

Sylvia Milo a Renaissance woman herself has written a fascinating, surreal and theatrical one woman homage to Maria Anna – THE OTHER MOZART.  She is performing this seventy five minute “true and untold” story at the HERE Arts Center 145 Sixth Avenue – based on family letters that are strewn across and concealed inside the period eighteen foot diameter dress that fills the stage.

Itself a work of art by Magdalena Dabrowska and Miodrag Guberinic covered with sheet music and concealing miniature props that cleverly enhance the story.  A metal framework complete with panniers enable Miss Milo to fit herself into the dress when called for – a metaphor for her being imprisoned for being a woman with an enormous talent and not allowed to use it – as women were only supposed to sew and cook and find a husband.  They were not to think, not to perform and not allowed to express their innate talents as Maria Anna’s mother keeps harping on.

Miss Milo is quite mesmerising.  With expressive arms and hands that match her expressive and impressive ability to convey her brother, father and mother – among others – with vocal dexterity.  She is also quite the vixen with a sharp sense of humor.

Almost dancelike she narrates the tale appearing sometimes to be a marionette – the invisible strings being manipulated by her father – not allowing her to blossom while his son (and her younger brother) becomes more and more famous leaving her to languish at home, bored and frustrated.  Sylvia Milo is breathtakingly beguiling as Maria Anna.

Original music by Nathan Davis and Phyllis Chen partner with the sublime sounds of Wolfgang.  Great lighting design by Joshua Rose and a wonderful do atop the head of Miss Milo by Courtney Bednarowski are perfect adornments.  Directed by Isaac Byrne – a wonderful collaboration with his creative team is the result that begs to be seen.

Maria Anna Mozart was resigned to her fate as a woman.  She was strong willed.  Talented.  But alas she was a woman.  Just imagine if she had been born a man.  Would she then have eclipsed Amadeus and not been a mere footnote to his illustrious career?  Through July 12^th.

NOTE:  At the performance I attended the show started twenty minutes late – without any explanation or apology.  I was not amused.  However, Sylvia Milo and the production itself more than made up for any inconvenience.

Also please note that the understudy Julia Rosa Stockl will appear at certain performances.

www.TheOtherMozart.com

www.here.org

Photos:  Peter Griesser & Charlotte Dobre

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Tupac Shakur.  Palace Theatre.  Broadway’s newest odd couple.  What’s really odd is that the producers of this new hip-hop-rap musical have redesigned the orchestra section of the Palace Theatre – at what must have been a considerable expense – to make it more intimate.  Losing about half the number of seats in the process.  We now have “stadium seating” – the seats are no larger however nor are they more comfortable.  Only closer to what is happening on stage.

And what is happening on the black bare bones stage with a few movable steps standing in as the stoops of the “hood” has some very mixed results.  A bit of background.

For those uninitiated – myself included – Tupac Shakur has sold over 75 million albums.  His rise to fame as a poet and actor (circa 1991-1995) with his very special brand of hip-hop-rap was intensely passionate and political – touching upon the plight of the niggers (the show uses this word freely) in his East Harlem ghetto neighborhood, their trouble with each other and the whites, peace, love, sex, gangs, poverty, violence and hope.  All written while in his twenties.

He was an angry, militant young man who had a high regard for his mother and all that she did for him.  He was shot dead in a drive-by shooting in Las Vegas when he was 25.  He was born of June 16^th 1971.  HOLLER IF YA HEAR ME opened on June 19^th 2014 – a very belated birthday gift from the dedicated creative team.

I suppose he would be honored by this tribute to his soul and his music.  It is claimed that this is not a bio-musical.  But all of the songs used are biographical – coming from the man himself – his passionate beliefs bared in rap.

All of his stories are shoe horned into a new book by Todd Kreidler who has moved the ghetto to MY BLOCK in a Mid-Western industrial city.   With an assortment of characters to voice Tupac’s thoughts.  The time is now.  The songs are from the 90’s – given new arrangements and orchestrations by Daryl Waters.  Unfortunately there is little to be done with gangsta rap.  The rhythms pulsate as the words spew forth.  However Tupac’s themes of entrapment, despair and pain are timeless.

Kenny Leon, a magnificent director who has just received the Tony for the acclaimed revival of A RASIN IN THE SUN (which has just closed) helms this large and very talented cast.  He seems out of his element here directing a musical and does not receive much help from his choreographer Wayne Cilento.

Musical numbers fade out.  The show doesn’t catch fire as we follow John (Saul Williams) who has just gotten out of jail and tries to get back his life in the old hood (that is dealing with the aftermath of a tragic shooting), attempting to reconnect and get a job at the garage that is owned by whites.  Griffy (Ben Thompson) is running the place as his dad is dying in a hospice as a homeless street preacher (John Earl Jelks) wanders around with megaphone and Bible.

John attempts to rekindle the sparks with Corinne (Saycon Sengbloh) a fine “Unconditional Love” – the next best thing that you’ll get to a traditional song.

Christopher Jackson plays friend Vertus who gets to sing the best number “Dear Mama” to Tonya Pinkins.

But the real revelation is Ben Thompson who gives great meaning to the rap number “California Love” strumming on his guitar atop a purple Cadillac newly refurbished at the garage. He puts meaning and emotion behind the words – he doesn’t just rap them out.

As I left the show I had to walk past all those empty orchestra seats that reminded me of the rows of headstones at Arlington Cemetery.  An eerie ending to HOLLER IF YA HEAR ME.

www.hollerifyahearme.com

Photos: Joan Marcus

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Two awards:  The first for most original shut-your-cell-phone-off warning and the second for outstanding stamina and longevity in the grand manner of British Music Hall entertainment go to Jim Smith aka Jim Dale – singer, songwriter (lyric for “Georgy Girl”) – Shakespearean actor, Broadway star (Barnum, Scapino) limerick man and all around raconteur who was born with show business DNA and hungry, make that famished, to escape the confines of a suffocating life in a shoe factory to go on and on and on entertaining audiences every charming tap step, song and joke along the way.

Jim Dale learned some of these jokes and dance steps back then at the age of seventeen.  He is now a ripe seventy nine and you would never know the difference.  Lithe and limber still, he is strutting his life across the stage of The Laura Pels Theatre in JUST JIM DALE – a musical memoir of his life thus far.  He isn’t the least bit tired.  Some of his material is.

However, Mr. Dale obviously loves to entertain his audience.  He is on stage with just a grand piano played to perfection by Mark York for almost two hours – no intermission – sipping once in a while from a small cup – never once out of breath as he jogs through his most memorable achievements as a performer.  And reader of the Harry Potter audio series with a slew of voices to match the slew of characters created by J. K. Rowling.

Mr. Dale has written this show and my one quibble is that it could be a bit shorter – perhaps by ten minutes.  Some tales, as charming and interesting as they are, begin to repeat themselves in words and actions.  That being said, I think you will have a most enjoyable time in the company of Jim Dale.

As directed by Richard Maltby, Jr. JUST JIM DALE is a time capsule of a performing style of a bygone era by a man who originated these many numbers and is still able to perform them magnificently.

In the blink of an eye he is performing “The Lambeth Walk” – from Me and My Girl (1937) then he is Barnum – singing a tongue twister of a song a la Danny Kaye – then a monologue of Shakespearean quotes in the style of Victor Borge that is brilliant and then a tidbit from Noel Coward as a hen-pecked husband escaping from his nagging wife and daughter and then an audience participation excerpt from JOE EGG.  It’s a master class of how to go from getting titters, to giggles, to guffaws and then applause.

Some jokes are groaners – but Mr. Dale delivers them with perfect comic timing that make them seem fresh and not merely recycled.  Jim Dale loves his audience and his audience loves him in return in this easy going stroll down memory lane in JUST JIM DALE – a revival of his life in the biz called show.

Limited run through August 10^th.  A Roundabout production.

Photos:  Joan Marcus

www.roundabouttheatre.org

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Once in a blue moon an actress has the good fortune to be cast in a career defining role that she is ready, willing and more than able to take advantage of.  Jan Maxwell has been given this wonderful gift by playwright Anthony Giardina in THE CITY OF CONVERSATION that has just opened – and been extended (rightfully so) – at The Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater at Lincoln Center.  She is fantastic.

The role is that of the glamorous, smart, sophisticated and lethal Hester Ferris – a liberal/activist/ hostess (and controlling mother) who makes the most of her gorgeous Georgetown townhouse (another classic design by John Lee Beatty) by giving political deal making dinners, bringing together those opposing Senators and such and allowing their opposing ideas to be hashed over, over brandy and cigars with the hope of persuading them to be swayed – one way or the other – in the process.

One such dinner is on the menu the day that Hester’s son Colin (Michael Simpson) whom she has been “grooming” from day one, unexpectedly arrives back from London armed with his ruthless fiancée Anna Fitzgerald (Kristen Bush) in September 1979 – during the Carter Presidency.

Guests for the evening include George Mallonee (John Aylward) conservative Senator from Kentucky and his wife Carolyn (Barbara Garrick) whose tongue has been sharpened for the event, Hester’s long time married boyfriend Chandler Harris – D. VA. (Kevin O’Rourke) who is seeking a VP place on Ted Kennedy’s ticket and her sister Jean Swift (Beth Dixon) who acts as secretary, maid and bottle washer.  I’ve left out “chief cook” as there is never much food in the house as per Hester’s request (never fully explained).  Why Aunt Jean stays and puts up with this is also never fully explained.  But I quibble.

Politics and family are dished up with wit and zingers.  Deftly directed by Doug Hughes.  The dialogue is fast, taut and at times furious. We soon discover that Anna is as conniving and sharp tongued as Hester with strong political ambitions that are on the opposite side of Hester’s agenda, bringing to mind another opportunist – Eve Harrington (ALL ABOUT EVE).  Sparks fly and the fight is on.  Round one ends with Anna securing a job with Mallonee.

Act II – October 1987 – The Reagan Presidency – finds a dismayed Hester lovingly doing day care for Colin and Anna’s six year old son Ethan (Luke Niehaus) who likes bouncing his ball, running around inside the house and watching Cinderella – while secretly writing a letter to block the nomination of Robert Bork to the Supreme Court – which is at odds with her son and Anna’s political agenda.

More sparks fly as they verbally spar.  Anna threatens to take Ethan away from grandma’s care – never to be seen again – if the letter isn’t destroyed.  What’s a stubborn hostess who is losing ground fast but with her principles still intact to do?

Fast forward to January 2009 – The Obama Inauguration – a grown up and openly gay (I didn’t see this coming) Ethan – age 27 played also by Michael Simpson beautifully – unexpectedly drops in with his boyfriend Donald Logan (Phillip James Brannon) who just so happens to be black, just as young and an historian – to visit his estranged grandmother – a now physically frail but still strong willed Hester and Aunt Jean for a reconciliation of sorts.  Jan Maxwell’s transformation is awesome.  The final moments are touching and will bring tears.

THE CITY OF CONVERSATION is an entertaining and gripping examination of how far one will go to prove a point.  Prove a point and lose a family.

Nice work Mr. Giardina to start off the new theatrical season. Through July 6^th.

www.lct.org

Photos:  Stephanie Berger

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In this somber, strangely poetic, esoteric and dull as dishwater play by David Rudkin and directed by Jack McNamara (as if he were wearing blinders) THE LOVESONG OF ALFRED J. HITCHCOCK – a riff on the T.S. Eliot poem The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock – is two hours of prolonged torture reminding one of Marat/Sade.

It aspires to make some sort of tragic Shakespearian hero out of the iconic film director of such classics as Psycho, The Birds, Vertigo and Strangers on a Train.  Better to rent one of these films than to catch this opus which is part of the Brits Off Broadway at 59E59 Theaters.

This limited engagement, through May 25^th – would be fodder for those interested in what was going through the mind of the master if only it were more interesting with at least a modicum of entertainment.  Does mental abuse make a genius?

Mr. Hitchcock (an unconvincing Martin Miller) was also funny.  Scary yes, but with a droll, dry sense of humor that is absent in this production with the exception of three, no make that two jokes in Act II as he struggles to come up with the motivations of his actors and the plot of a film he is working on with an American writer (Tom McHugh).  Here he is a prime candidate for the funny farm.

An excellent Roberta Kerr gets to chew the scenery (what little there is of it) playing his dragon of a mother Emma who instilled “fear” in her little boy and his wife Alma (his severest critic – that is, until now) who is attempting to write a book that might be titled “My Life with a Serial Killer”.

Poor Hitch was obsessed with his weight – having been jeered at by others but continued his love of food – as well as his muddled relationship with women.  Racked with guilt we discover his obsession with religion and we even get to witness his “confession” – which only makes us want to flee the theatre all the faster.

Anthony Wise portrays a Jesuit Teacher, Priest and Stranger on a train.

The short, staccato words and phrases do little to help and their repetition tends to make one fall asleep.  I kept anticipating someone yelling “CUT!” which would bring to a close this ill- conceived character study that began its life as a 1993 radio play…

www.newperpectives.co.uk

www.59E59.org

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Photo:  Carol Rosegg

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Can you imagine if Gerard Alessandrini wasn’t an out of work actor thirty years ago?  His creative, sharply witty and blistering expose of the blemishes of Broadway musical revue– FORBIDDEN BROADWAY would never have been born.

And now thirty years later, emerging in its newest incarnation FORBIDDEN BROADWAY – Comes Out Swinging (and boy do they mean it) – at the newly refurbished DAVENPORT THEATRE – where it sparkles like a treasure chest filled with diamonds.  It is immense fun.  And knowing the show’s reference points make it twice as much fun.  No one is safe.

With a quartet of players (Carter Calvert, Mia Gentile, Scott Richard Foster and Marcus Stevens) blessed with outstanding comic timing, an ability to mimic the multitude of stars represented, terrific voices and the dexterity to manage hand held microphones – we are bombarded with Mr. Alessandrini’s take on the present and recently departed Broadway scene with its extended family represented by the television live special of THE SOUND OF MUSIC included, re-writing the lyrics to the famous tunes to suit his own satiric purpose.  How could he resist lampooning Carrie Underwood?  Or pointing out the corporate take-overs rampant on the Great White Way?

Mr. A has the courage to say what many people think but are afraid to say.  Bless him!  And he says it with a sometimes scathing wit that is based in truth – the whole truth and nothing but – which makes it all so deliciously amusing.  That is, if you are not the target of his barbed arrows.

The other stars of the production include the expert pianist David Caldwell, who keeps things humming along like a well-tuned engine as the actors quick change characters, fabulous right on wigs (Bobbie Cliffton Zlotnik) and amazingly elaborate costumes (Dustin Cross/Philip Heckman) and director Phillip George who has also provided some snappy dialogue (along with his co-director Mr. A.)

Highlights include everything.  And I won’t give any of the specifics away – they must be heard for the first time for full effect.

If I must I will point out Mr. Foster’s Robert from BRIDGES, Frankie Valli JERSEY BOYS, Sylvester Stallone ROCKY, Steve Kazee ONCE and Alan Cumming CABARET.  Mia’s Patina Miller PIPPIN, Cristin Milioti ONCE, Audra McDonald THE SOUND OF MUSIC and Stark Sands KINKY BOOTS.  Then we have Carter Calvert as Andrea Martin PIPPIN, Fran Drescher CINDERELLA, Francesca BRIDGES, Carole King BEAUTIFUL, Carrie Underwood THE SOUND OF MUSIC and Liza.  Mr. Stevens shines as Matthew Warchus Trunchbull MATILDA, Jason Robert Brown, JASON ROBERT BROWN, Andy Karl ROCKY, Woody Allen BULLETS and the amazing Mandy Patinkin.

There are more laughs per minute than any other production on or off Broadway.  Who could ask for anything more?  Two Acts.  Almost two hours.  Too funny for words.

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Photos:  Carol Rosegg

www.forbiddenbroadway.com

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Something new and wonderful has been added to the stage of the Vivian Beaumont Theater at Lincoln Center – a gorgeous, traditional, translucent red show curtain trimmed in gold for its production of James Lapine’s adaptation of the Moss Hart 1959 autobiography ACT ONE – a celebration of his life that is done magnificently under Mr. Lapine’s direction and starring Santino Fontana and Tony Shalhoub as the younger and older Hart respectively.  There is also an even younger Mossy played by Matthew Schechter.  It takes three excellent actors to fill Mr. Hart’s shoes admirably as he was a force of nature who loved the theater and became a world famous writer, director and bon vivant.

But it didn’t come easy.  His success was a combination of passion for the theater instilled in him by his theatrical Aunt Kate (Andrea Martin) his obsessive reading, his desire to do anything to get near a stage, his need to escape the poverty of his English-Jewish parents in the Bronx, some good connections (the Confederation of Office Boys), his obvious potential, his hunger for food and fame, his persistence and his life changing collaboration with the famous and quirky George S. Kaufman (Tony Shalhoub) on ONCE IN A LIFETIME – a very lucky break indeed.

But Moss Hart made his own luck.  Pursuing his dream with vigor and not letting anything or anyone distract him from his ultimate goal of being a successful writer.  It seems like a charmed life.  But it did have many ups and downs.  His persistence ultimately wins out.  One couldn’t make this up.  It would be hard to believe.  But it actually happened and is brought to vivid life in this perfect production highlighting the years 1914-1930.

As the play begins the curtain parts to reveal the mammoth and brilliant stage set design by Beowulf Boritt – a large, multi-tiered turntable that serves as the many locations – Hart’s home, the theatrical office where he was a clerk, a theatre and Kaufman’s sumptuous apartment – among the many others where life continues to go on as Moss Hart’s story unfolds narrated by both the young, naïve and ambitious Santino and the confident, urbane Shalhoub – who does triple duty here.

Not only is he the older Hart but he portrays the cockney accented father of Mossy and the fastidious Kaufman – earning him a Tony nomination as best leading actor in a play – beating out Santino only by a split hair.  They are both excellent.

As is the phenomenal Andrea Martin who not only plays Aunt Kate but Frieda Fishbein (Hart’s pushy agent) and the wise and elegant Mrs. Kaufman – Beatrice – wearing lovely dresses designed by Jane Greenwood.  Ms. Martin is a delight whenever she is on stage.

Time appears to fly by in this almost three hour production thanks to the set and direction by Mr. Lapine who has done a great job in condensing Mr. Hart’s tome.

The second act deals with the odd couple collaboration of Hart and Kaufman – the apprentice and the master at work and their attempt – attempts – to bring to fruition a successful ONCE IN A LIFETIME that opened to raves at the Music Box Theatre in 1930.

As we view a troublesome scene from the satirical comedy they are writing revisions elsewhere and as they change the script the actors change the lines in the play.  Back and forth.  It’s a brilliant touch.  Both as writer and director.

You don’t have to be an aficionado of the theatre to love this production.  Anyone who has a dream, who has the hunger, the desire to succeed in whatever will be given enlightenment and encouragement by the exemplary and ultimately successful life story of Moss Hart.  Persistence is the key word.  That and potential.

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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CASA VALENTINA is a fascinating and bizarre drama that examines a group of straight men who have a need to dress as women.  They are not gay.  Not flamboyant drag queens nor female impersonators.  They are men, most of whom are married – some with children.  Men that feel trapped and choked in their male clothing – needing to don dresses and slips and wigs and make-up to release whatever they need to be released.

Playwright Harvey Fierstein has based this documentary like drama/comedy on true life events in the Catskill Mountains resort “Chevalier d’Eon” where the world of the “self-made woman” was created in 1962.

Together with director Joe Mantello they have cast a stellar ensemble of men who are totally believable as women in this Manhattan Theatre Club production at the Samuel J. Friedman Theatre that is totally well-intentioned but a bit contrived and melodramatic as it tackles a bit too many issues.  Mr. Fierstein has bitten off a lot more than we can digest.

We first meet Rita a GG (Genuine Girl) Mare Winningham the relaxed and soft spoken wife of George.  She literally wears the pants in the family as George is mostly in a dress as his alter ego Valentina.  Their child is the resort they run that is losing money.  In addition, George has been mailed an envelope containing gay porno that was meant for another person.  An envelope that somehow was unintentionally opened allowing the photos to spill out resulting in George being investigated.

Bessie (Tom McGowan) quotes Oscar Wilde a lot.  She is warm hearted and welcoming of first time attendee Jonathan (Gabriel Ebert) who is a nervous wreck.  He is so completely unprepared for this festive weekend as Miranda that he is given a complete make-over by the other women –Gloria (Nick Westrate) Terry (John Cullum) The Judge (who arrives hunting rifle in hand – before he becomes Amy (Larry Pine) and the VIP guest Charlotte (Reed Birney) the publisher of the group magazine who has been arrested and jailed as has an agenda that is cause for a heated debate among the members.

Looking very much like a chic Bette Davis, cigarette in one hand and drink in the other she wants them all to sign an affidavit that she hopes will legalize transvestites and that will exclude all gays – as that is not what these members are.  Wait…

The heated debate takes up most of Act I.  They then take a rest at the opening of Act II as a trio lip syncs a recording of “Sugartime” by the McGuire Sisters as the others enjoy.  Then melodrama kicks in until the rather downbeat ending.

All through the play I kept wondering about the wives.  Some know, some don’t.  The ones that know accept or do they?  Rita does up to a point and we get some insight as to how she feels but George/Valentina seems so selfish and unfair to her.

At the very least Mr. Fierstein has gotten this secret topic out in the open creating discussion.  At best he has created some very juicy roles for men to explore their inner woman.

CASA VALENTINA was inspired by the book CASA SUSANNA by Michael Hurst and Robert Swope.  Whose story is it?  Miranda’s?  Valentina’s?  Amy’s? or Charlotte’s?

Photos:  Mathew Murphy

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www.casavalentinabroadway.com

www.manhattantheatreclub.com

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