Show closes May 26, 2012.

Noel Coward wrote Blithe Spirit in 1941 during the height of World War II and was briefly criticized at the time for the subject matter of contacting those who had passed on. The play concerns socialite and novelist Charles Condomine, who invites the eccentric medium and clairvoyant, Madame Arcati, to his house to conduct a séance, hoping to gather material for his next book. The scheme backfires when he is haunted by the ghost of his annoying and temperamental first wife, Elvira. Elvira makes continual attempts to disrupt Charles’s marriage to his second wife, Ruth, who cannot see or hear the ghost. The play was a huge success in London and with almost 2,000 consecutive performances, held the record for the longest run of a play until The Mousetrap surpassed it in 1957.

Set design by Michelle Brown, Jake Anderson, Amy Burton and Butch Young set the mood for this British farce. The small stage at the Empress was well decorated as the drawing room of the Condomines. Director Jorden Cammack led her cast well in both accents and diction and did well at creating the relationships between the actors. However, there were some odd pronunciations that didn’t fit with the British setting and did seem to jar me out of the illusion.

The actors all did well with their individual characters.  In every play of this type there are characters that have to play the “straight man” to the main character’s comedy. Bryan McNabb and Kimberly Wicker as Dr. George and Violet Bradman did very well in that. They had a very easy-going relationship and meshed well with the farce on stage. Heather Middleton as the maid Edith was fun to watch and got several laughs through the night with her “servant in a rush”. Michaella Greeff as the deceased wife Elvira did well in her role, but could have made a bit more of the part. Her character is described by the other characters as fascinating, maddening, cheerful and acidic, but when she shows up, she was pleasant. I found it odd that Elvira wasn’t much like the way she had been described before the audience met her.

Kristen Fox as Ruth Condomine and Stephen Bradford as Charles Condomine were very engaging in their portrayals. Fox had the somewhat difficult job of having an actor on stage and pretending not to see them.  Bradford was very convincing as the cynical writer who is suddenly confronted with a very odd situation.  But the real standout among the cast members was Nancy Jensen as Madame Arcati.  Her mannerisms and quirks were very enjoyable to watch and added greatly to the overall fun of the show.  My one slight complaint about her performance was that Jensen had no single discernible accent and the constantly shifting accents did make some of her lines a little harder to understand.  But she was still great fun to watch.

The Empress seemed to suffer on this night from a trend that effects many theaters when doing a non-musical comedy: a small audience.  I’m not quite sure what causes it, but plays seem to be a harder sell in legitimate theater in Utah.  I know form anecdotal evidence that at least one theater has all but sworn them off because they are so much harder to get audiences for.  Personally, I’m not sure why this is, and for such a show as this one, with a good cast and a very enjoyable plot, you would think they would be packing them in.  Hopefully, word will spread and this play will get the audiences it deserves.  Blithe Spirit is suitable for all ages and is a very witty comical farce.

The story is a almost a dream, within a play, within the show. Miguel Cervantes is being held by the Spanish Inquisition and while imprisoned his fellow inmates decide to place him on trial as well. As his defense, he presents his play, or charade, of Don Quixote de La Mancha. Quixote is a man that has given up on the baseness of reality and instead immerses himself in a world where an inn is a castle, windmills are giants, and the lowly serving girl and prostitute is a Lady by the name of Dulcinea. The conflict lies between Quixote living out this dream while his family sees as a fool endangering their family’s honor and name.

A live orchestra starts the night as the ensemble slowly filters onto the stage in character, but without any clear purpose or story (my only real, though minor, complaint regarding the direction by Charles Morey). I would have been satisfied to sit listening to the orchestrations and appreciating the elaborately textured set by George Maxwell. The entire show takes place in this dungeon. While the set remains the same throughout, I was surprised at how fitting it was for each scene. Part of the beauty in this show is that the audience is invited along as Cervantes stages his play to the inmates using only the costumes and props he’s brought along. As such, Maxwell’s set frames each scene perfectly fades into the background while reminding us ever so softly that we’re still in the dungeon.

William Michals is a transformative Cervantes/Quixote. His command of the stage was masterful as scenes were set, actors coached, and when he sang . . . well, I listened. Whether it was the sweet melody of “Dulcinea,” the powerful anthem in “Man of La Manch (I, Don Quixote),” or the hopeful and mesmerizing “The Impossible Dream,” I was hooked.

L-R: William Michals as Don Quixote, Sara Kae Childs as Horse, Daniel Marcus as Sancho and Eric Lee Brotherson as Donkey. Photo by Alexander Weisman.

Daniel Marcus as Sancho Panza was a delight. It took until “I Like Him” before I really felt he hit his stride, but the character is so lovably charming spouting out proverbs like Tevye (Fiddler on the Roof) had he been born in Spain. (Though considering a primary facet of Spanish Inquisition was to convert/purge Judaism from Spain, how appropriate that there be a Jewish influence present in the play.)

On a whole, the show is marvelous. I’ve never caught myself smiling quite so often during a show as I did this one. Much of that is due to the beautiful writing of Wasserman, Leigh, and Darion, but a good amount of credit is due to Pioneer’s production team and cast.

My primary disappointment lay in the singing of Maria Eberline as Aldonza. While impassioned, the evening’s performance seemed plagued with pitch issues. But, oh, how well could she act! Eberline has built such an incredibly strong character from her downstage right moment where she claims the dress, on through her role as Aldonza and transformation to Dulcinea.

Therein lies the beauty of the entire show. Amidst the baseness of reality, there is beauty and worth. I was first introduced to Quixote and his loveable sidekick, Sancho, as an eighth grader in Spanish class. It’s that message that struck me at a young age, and now still leaps off the stage. Man of La Mancha is a beautiful play and Pioneer has done a beautiful job staging it. While this is the last show from artistic director Charles Morey, hopefully it’s not the last we see of his work on the Utah stage.

L-R: Maria Eberline as Aldonza and William Michals as Don Quixote. Photo by Alexander Weisman.

Show closes May 26, 2012.

Reviewing a piece obviously not geared toward me as an audience member is somewhat of a challenge. I am not a child and consequently, much of my review comes from (maybe not so) covert spying on the children in the audience around me. A child doesn’t care how deep a play is or how impactful the story is. A child does not analyze the use of lighting, music, or costume design to bring out the show’s hidden thematic elements. A child simply reacts—purely, absolutely, with no shame for being outright bored if something is boring or conversely, joyously giddy when entertained.

Knowing this, as I waited for the show to begin and watched the anticipation on the small faces around me, I thought: what a tough gig for these theatre artists. Honestly! Maybe the actors didn’t have to worry as much in this show about how in sync they are with the character or what their constant motivation is (though the acting, I noticed with my adult analytical brain, was well-executed by all). But they had the biggest stressor of all: the lack of a socially-brainwashed-to-be-polite audience. Kids do not temper their opinions and reactions, one of their most endearing—and frustrating—qualities. However, kids want magic. They want to believe fairy tales are true—that they are a reality we adults so easily dismiss. And that is what I was looking for in the faces of the children around me—that face of being entranced, of believing a little more in magic because of the show before them.

And that was precisely what I saw. I saw the terror and horror on kids’ faces as the stepmother (the impressively evil Meighan Smith)—belittled and mocked Cinderella. I saw the amusement and humor that the child audience members had towards the two ugly stepsisters (Mandi Jensen and Allison Froh)—whose comedic timing was perfect, by the way. And I saw the absolute thrill, the magic as the French-speaking Fairy Godmother (Mattie June Smith) appears multiple times to save the day. And of course, I could not ignore those faces of mixed excitement, and perhaps a little embarrassment, as the perfectly dashing prince (probably my favorite character, played by Landon Kraczek) gave the ever-sweet, ever-lovable Cinderella (Alex Vermillion) her first kiss.

A little adult talk: the scenery was simplistic, but enough to create the scenes, especially because the acting was so energetic and engaging that I couldn’t help but use your imagination to “create” the world in my own mind. My favorite scenes were among the “royals”—the King and Queen, the royal attendants, and of course, the Prince. The added character of beauty expert La Plumeba (Spencer Jackson Hohl) was constant comedy. I am sorry to say that I don’t even know who composed or executed the stunning music—which gave that extra oomph every show needs to reach beyond the ordinary. Kudos to the director, Brett Howell, for pulling together so many great elements to form this entertaining show.

This was my first time seeing a show at The Children’s Theatre (which is in a new venue, I learned, and looks like a nice, promising space) but it will not be my last. I want to return with my kids to share with them the wonder that is theater—stories come to life so vibrantly before them. And, let’s be honest, it never hurts every now and then to have a few hours to try to feel like a kid again.

That ability to create was evident in many of the choices made by The Grand Theatre’s production staff.  Van Tinkham’s stepped set design gave director/choreographer Jim Christian many levels on which to tell a visually interesting story.  Megan McCormick’s lighting and Phil Lowe’s costumes both used contrasting colors to support the plot, (for example, reserving yellows for the two villains).  Ben Linford’s projection and video design added a technical dimension which integrated seamlessly with the choreography and staging.  While the occasional actor’s shadow on the projection caused minor distraction, this production made excellent use of visual elements to set the stage for a night of entertainment.

But like the Muses coming to life from the chalk drawing, it was the actors who brought this musical to life.  Dancing to a disco beat only he seemed to hear, Sean Bishop delivered a believable, starry-eyed portrayal of the dreamer/artist Sonny.  While his comic ballads with Clio/Kira (Ashley Gardner Carlson) were everything they were intended to be, Bishop really hit his stride as he belted “Don’t Walk Away” with a chorus of full harmonies backing him up.  For me, this was the musical apex of the show.

Carlson was gorgeous in her pink demigod dress and sparkly leg warmers, and the natural ease she displayed on roller skates consistently amazed me.  As I watched her execute the same choreography given to those standing firmly on two feet, I would often catch myself suddenly realizing that she was doing that on wheels!  Carlson transitioned smoothly between her Clio voice and Kira’s Australian accent.  However, she seemed to play it safe; it may have been fun to see Kira just a bit more over-the-top.  I also thought that Carlson was often difficult to hear when she sang in a lower register, but she made up for it with vocal comedy which provided some of the best laughs in the show.

Two of my favorite characters were the villains Melpomene (Camille Gerber Van Wagoner) and Calliope (Shelby Andersen).  Van Wagoner and Andersen delivered several hilarious duets including “Evil Woman,” and always maintained their characters during production numbers.  I often found myself looking for them to see what hilarious modifications they had made to the choreography to customize it for their characters.  While Van Wagoner owned the stage with her body language and comedic timing, I felt her higher notes sometimes became a little thin.  In contrast, Andersen delivered every facial expression, every note, and every arm movement with complete dedication to her character.  As a result, the sidekick occasionally outshone her mentor.

Some believe that a production is only as good as its weakest character.  Luckily for this production, there were no weak links.  Kim Blackett’s portrayal of the sold-out artist turned businessman, Danny, gave an excellent contrast to Sonny, and Nicholas Morris’s dancing as Young Danny was a highlight of the show. Each of the additional Muses (Stacia Hardy, Stephanie Jameson, William Richardson, Tanner Rampton, Liz Corona, Maggie Goertzen) and Sean J. Carter as Hermes exhibited both vocal and physical strength in this ensemble.  From the first moments of “I’m Alive,” I was particularly impressed by their blend; I was never distracted by individual voices or unbalanced harmonies.

I do have to admit, however, to being confused by use of men cast as Muses.  It is my understanding that this musical is written specifically for that casting, and I think it had the potential to create hilarious moments and raise the overall energy of the show.  I thought Morris, Richardson, and Rampton more than held their own among the ladies, but their potential as comedic characters in the production was unreached.  It seemed they were used in a “why not?” sort of way when I would l have enjoyed seeing a clear “why.”

Kevin Mathie’s work as music director occasionally allowed the actors to sacrifice musical perfection for comedy.  It worked because in numbers like “Don’t Walk Away,” the actors removed any possible doubt of their musical capabilities.  I was delighted to hear rich harmonies throughout the production numbers and accurate, effortless harmonies in the duets and smaller numbers.  In fact, I came to expect so much of the musical numbers that I was slightly disappointed in the second act opening number.  Several of the Muses were featured as soloists, but the microphone balance did not help the solos stand out.  I would have loved to hear their individual talents soar above the harmonies of the ensemble.

Christian’s choreography did just what musical theatre choreography should do: it told the story.  I especially enjoyed watching each Muse tell her own story within the constructs of the given choreography.  Each dance had the perfect mix of crisp unison moments and moments for characterization.  Christian used Carlson’s skating skills and Tinkham’s rotating set pieces expertly, creating one of my favorite moments in “Dancin’.”  I have to admit, however, that after an evening of sharp, energetic choreography, I left feeling underwhelmed by the roller-finale “Xanadu.”  The actors had obvious differences in their levels of comfort on skates, and many seemed in deep concentration throughout the number.

Most of the great moments in the show were created by the actors themselves.   But one of the most memorable elements was the descending Pegasus which, through the onstage assistance of two ensemble members, seemed to fly across the projected sky.  For all those involved in that decision and execution, I thank you for that moment of pure entertainment.

My disappointments with this production were minor.  The small, on-stage orchestra played expertly and was dynamically well-balanced with the cast.  However, I expected a certain energy from having a live orchestra, and with the exception of the Act I finale, “Don’t Walk Away,” they just didn’t quite deliver.  And while I was impressed with the overall quality of the microphones and sound, I was disappointed by the technical glitch which left Blackett without amplified sound for his entire introductory scene and song.

All in all, The Grand Theatre’s production of Xanadu was great fun supported by great talent, and I’d recommend it to anyone who’s willing to laugh at the expense of art itself.  For a grand night of glitter, roller-disco, and laughs, be sure to catch this production as it runs through May 26.

Show closes May 12, 2012.

The Taming of the Shrew is the tale of how Katherina, a cruel and most disagreeable woman who refuses any consideration of marriage, becomes “tamed” by her wooer Petruchio. Petruchio marries Katherina and makes her a kind, obedient wife with whom he can enjoy a lifetime of marriage. Throw in the obligatory secondary Shakespearean love story (this time between the characters Lucentio and Katherina’s sister Bianca) and some disguised characters, and you have an enjoyable Shakespeare comedy.

The most striking part of my evening experience was the performance of the cast. Michael K. Johnson is a swaggering Petruchio, who lets his dominance over the other characters channel his masculinity in a convincing and appropriate way. Johnson’s character is decisive and unwavering in his goals (such as in Act IV when he takes Katherina home after their wedding), which makes his contrived cruelty especially believable. Although Johnson is a joy to watch individually, he shines brightest in his scenes with his counterpart, Brooke Wilkins (playing Katherina). Wilkins and Johnson have an exciting chemistry that makes the banter between their characters seem natural and highly entertaining. I loved her first scene with Johnson because of the way Wilkins made Katherina seem flustered for the first time in her life. It was an aspect of the character that I had never considered, and for me it shed new light on Katherina’s inner psychology. Wilkins also seemed genuine in her portrayal of bitterness, vulnerability, and anger in the wedding scenes, which provided a welcome change in pace from the preceding frenetic energy that preceded her entrance.

Although the pairing of Johnson and Wilkins was engaging, an equally riveting performance was given by Natalia V. Noble as Tranio, the servant of Lucentio. Charged with helping her master woo Bianca, Tranio takes on a disguise and helps her master gain access to his love. Noble had the difficult task of playing a character playing a character, a task at which I’ve seen many actors falter. However, Noble prevented the personality traits of Tranio from getting lost in the disguise, for which I commend her. I also appreciated the emotional tension that Noble cultivated in her first scene as Lucentio asks her to help him marry another woman.

Other cast members were impressive in their performances; Andrew Maizner was a compassionate Baptista who was cautious of his daughter Katherina. In early scenes of the play Maizner conveyed a hesitation that non-verbally indicated that Katherina had a long history of spurning men and driving them away. G. Morgan Walton‘s Grumio was an excellent comic relief character who always seemed to get laughs out of the audience.

Of course, great performances don’t just happen. Jesse Peery‘s direction was often inspired in the way he guided the actors as they told the age-old story (which modern audiences often have difficulty with because of the way women’s place in society has changed since Shakespeare’s day). I think that Peery’s decision to set the story in the swinging 1960′s was a fun choice that perhaps helped many audience members find the story more accessible (and also permitted Brooke Wilkins to create some highly amusing designs in her capacity as costume designer). What I appreciated most of all, however, is Peery’s cultivation of the relationships among characters in the play. Relationships between amorous couples, fathers and children, masters and servants, and others were realistic, satisfying, and often moving under Peery’s guiding hand. However, I felt that pacing in Act IV was a noticeably slower than the rest of the play. I also feel like Peery’s lighting designs made Act IV too dark for the DHT stage and that the lighting changes for the characters’ asides were unnecessary and distracting.

Unquestionably, though, The Taming of the Shrew was a wonderful way to spend an evening, and the production would serve as a wonderful introduction to the play for anyone. Moreover, I’m glad I discovered UNIPAC, which for me is a new hidden gem in the Utah theatre community. I eagerly await the next UNIPAC production.

Tiffany Stoddard as Bianca and Jonathan Sherman Tate as Lucentio.

Show closes May 12, 2012.

Betrayal is the story of an affair between two married individuals told in reverse, from the breakup back to the first kiss.  Pinter captures the natural rhythm of conversation (I would say a particularly British rhythm of conversation) with all of its starts, stops, and awkward pauses. None of his characters are particularly likeable, but all for varying reasons.  And while there are humorous moments, this is a hard play to watch.  It is also, because of the reverse timeline element, a cold, clinical look at the affair.  Director Alexandra Harbold has constructed a very sparse, taut production.  There was nothing wasted or superfluous.  She maneuvered her actors through the many set changes and was able to evoke the proper emotional content going backwards.  Unfortunately, the program did not list the set designer. It was a very inventive staging with two three-sided set pieces that served as the walls for the various scenes with the simple addition of a few modest furniture pieces.  Scene changes were handled quickly and smoothly with only one slight hiccup in the second act.

Where this production really shines is in the actors.  Melanie Nelson was a wonderful Emma.  She is a difficult character to be around, but Nelson portrays the emotional content of each of Emma’s scenes extremely well.  Jared Larkin is also very engaging as Jerry.  Larkin clearly portrays the emotional distance that Jerry seems to have toward everything in his life.  He never really seems to connect to anyone or anything in a committed way.  Roger Dunbar as Robert has perhaps the most likeable of the three characters, and Dunbar gives Robert the easy-going charm that imbues him with a somewhat tragic tone.  He is tied to the other two characters, in spite of the emotional toll it all takes.  These are three extremely talented actors in a very emotionally difficult play.  Jared Thompson as the waiter did well in an otherwise throwaway role.  He was there to break up the tension of the moment and it worked.

In the end, this is a very moving and slightly (to me, at least) disturbing look at three friends and the betrayals that they commit to each other and themselves.  I have not been able to stop thinking about the relationships, and the evening has caused no end of mixed emotions in me.  I have to say that the play itself left me rather cold, but that is in no way a comment on the performances.  They were stunning.  I look forward to future productions from this highly dedicated company.  Friday’s performance was sparsely attended, and that is a real shame as Pinnacle Acting Company deserves bigger audiences.

Show closes May 19, 2012.

SALT LAKE CITY — There is something to be said for an excellent playwright. His words entertain, captivate, and get us to tune in to our emotions. Add to that a group of talented, skilled actors, and what you get is a lovely evening at the theater.

Neil Simon‘s play Chapter Two tells the story of two people: one is a man named George, who has recently lost his wife Barbara due to illness, and is grieving her death. The other is Jennie, a woman whose unhappy marriage to a man named Gus has ended after six years. Both people are trying to come to terms with starting from scratch, and, through their friends who are determined to see the two happy again, the pair meet and begin a whirlwind romance. What Neil Simon is most skilled at is mingling humor in with real-life drama. I felt myself sucked into the lives of George, Jennie, Faye, and Leo almost as if I knew them. The words were so real and some struck so close to home that I even found myself tearing up at one point.

In the role of George was Brian Pilling, whose portrayal of the grieving widower was graceful and emotional, and very well-handled. He slipped in and out of the lighter to more dramatic moments with the skill of an experienced actor, which was very refreshing to see. Playing his counterpart Jennie was JJ Peeler, who, like Pilling, filled the shoes of her character with maturity and strength. She was perhaps the strongest actor in the show, delivering up a veritable rainbow of emotions effortlessly. It is a truly magical thing to watch an actor slip into the skin of their character, so much so that you are convinced that Jennie Malone is real, and that these are her pains, her happiness, her habits and mannerisms. I was enchanted with Peeler, particularly in the second act, wherein she played a woman trying to understand what the man she loves is going through, while she, too, is suffering.

Another favorite of mine was David Hanson, who played George’s younger brother, Leo. Hanson started the play with his own kind of energy, and he played the sometimes jovial, sometimes solemn non-monogamist with a great deal of warmth and tenderness. I found myself wishing that Leo were my brother. It seemed to me that Neil Simon wrote this character, along with Jennie, from someone he knew, for that was the kind of love that went into the writing. Hanson played the part as a real person, especially in the second act, where the many layers of his character were revealed. Finally, Michelle Linn Hall played the role of Faye, Jennie’s best friend and Leo’s mistress. She floated across the stage merrily, a sharp contrast to the show’s heavier moments, and I enjoyed many of the aspects of her portrayal of Faye.

I took particular notice in the costumes for the show. In the first scene, George came in wearing a blue shirt, and Leo a purple one. Then, mirror-like, Jennie and Faye entered in the next scene, Jennie in blue and Faye in purple. There seemed to be a very specific idea about color in the costume designer’s mind, who unfortunately wasn’t listed on the program. (Perhaps it was the work of director Lane Richins.) Characters often wore darker or more mute colors in scenes where their moods were low, and more vibrant colors in scenes of jubilation or heightened emotion. Whether this was on purpose or not, I thought it a nice touch.

Whitney Betts, who designed the set, also seemed very specific in her intentions. The apartments were portrayed by a large flat serving as the backdrop, painted two different colors, almost like one apartment reflected in the mirror of the other. I also liked the way the apartments were decorated, which showed the audiences that both people were very alike, but also quite different. Both had pictures or paintings of Parisian hotels and restaurants on their walls, but George, unlike Jennie, had photos of his late spouse still lurking on walls and on his desk.

Richins did well in casting these fine actors, and I’m sure this made his job easier. All of the blocking of the show felt completely natural, never forced, and the actors all used body language extremely well. The cast never over-exaggerating their movements, but managing to portray tension, intimacy, and anger by their stances alone. Richins also made some fun choices for the actors, such as having Jennie and George slip into foreign accents in more flirtatious or lighthearted moments. You can feel a skilled director’s hand in a show that is very tight and balanced.

There were many moments in this show that touched me, and many that made me laugh. I would highly recommend it to anyone who would like to enjoy an evening getting to know these characters, and maybe even getting to know themselves a little better in the process.

Show closes May 26, 2012.

The play begins with Norman and his wife of over 40 years, Ethel, opening up their summer cottage on Golden Pond. This really is a cottage, very woodsy-looking. Over the heads of the audience across from the stage is a big painting of Golden Pond, a wonderful feature, and Ethel spends a lot of time in the play looking at the lake, fascinated with the loons that inhabit the water and shore.

In addition to the set design, I thought that the sound was nearly perfect and that it established the mood of a tranquil country pond. However, there is only one song playing before the show as the audience members take their seats, and it plays during each scene change. This got a bit tedious, but I was pleased that there was a different song as the show ended and the lights went dark. I also approved of the lighting. The Little Brown is a tight, happy little theater and the technical aspects of their productions seem to keep getting better and better since the Little Brown opened just last year.

The plot of On Golden Pond may be one that is familiar to many due to the film of the same name produced in 1981. I admit, I was curious how the play would match up to the movie, which gathered three Academy Awards (for Henry Fonda as best actor, Katherine Hepburn as best actress, and for Best Adapted Screenplay for Ernest Thompson, who wrote the play.) The  film also garnered seven more Academy Award nominations. This play brought something beautiful to the screen. Of course, the movie—with its movie-sized budget and location filming—was able to tell a far more of a visual story than a play can. Specifically, films make it possible to capture beautiful photography of Golden Pond itself. But the play lends itself to talking about the pond, talking about the loons, and the sound of the motorboat Charlie the mailman motors to bring the mail every day helped me remember that this play really does take place on the edge of a quaint rustic pond.

Bill Brown as Norman Thayer, Jr. may be playing the role of his life. He was born to be the curmudgeonly “Old Poop.” This is actually Brown’s third time playing the role. In an instance of life imitating art, after Brown’s second time putting on the play, he himself had a serious heart attack (Norman has heart palpitations and has to take nitroglycerin in one scene to help him after having a small attack of some kind.) Brown was definitely crabby enough, but when it was time for him to smile (which doesn’t happen often because Thayer is really a crabby old man) Brown shines with delight. But what struck me most is the body language Brown used. It haunts me still. He had this way of sort of looking up, as if searching a higher place to remember the things that his old age had snatched from his memory. Because one of the themes of this story is that Norman is getting very old (80) and is slowly losing his memory.

Bonnie Pence plays Ethel, the beautiful woman that Norman loves. Ethel is fiercely protective of her husband and after so many years married, teases and becomes exasperated with him, but supports Norman and keeps him safe in a way that is charming and poignant. The true theme of this play, in my opinion, is the love story of Norman and Ethel. Pence, too, was in the former productions of On Golden Pond with Brown and it is obvious. Their ease with one another shows. These are actors who’ve played these parts before and have none of the “gee, we’re supposed to be a long-married couple or a new couple in love but I’ve barely met you” kind of awkwardness that is seen in so many plays I attend. Their chemistry is very nice. Peaceful, the way I hope a couple who’ve been together as long as the Thayers have would display. My only criticism of Pence is that Pence wasn’t loud enough to be heard over some of the sound effects. But her movement, her timing, her ease was soothing and effective.

Dane Allred played the confirmed bachelor Charlie the mailman. Allred is brilliant in this role, with his broad Maine accent and his L.L. Bean sturdy (but worn) plaid jacket, whiskers thick on his face. Every scene he was in, which were far too few for me, sparkled and popped and had the energy that was sometimes not as evident in other scenes. Kaye Fugal-Arnold played Chelsea, the Thayer’s only child, now in her late 40’s. She and Norman, whom she calls Norman (not Dad), have a sticky, uncomfortable and downright resentment-filled relationship. Though Chelsea is still close with her mother, she and Norman just don’t get along, and Fugal-Arnold showed this so well. She was anxious, almost brittle in her scenes with Norman. I felt her longing to be accepted and loved by her father.

Chelsea arrives with her boyfriend Bill, played by Jamie Gritton. Gritton isn’t onstage for long, but he has a compelling and rather humorous scene with Norman that shows he’s up to the challenge of calling Norman on his manipulative bullying, which Gritton performed admirably. Gritton’s son Tristan played Billy, Bill’s son. With the arrival of Billy, who ends up staying with the Thayers while Chelsea and Bill go to Europe, there is a transformation in Norman and in Billy as well. Both characters are tough—Norman because he’s been a grump probably his whole life, and Billy because he’s 13 and has been tossed back and forth between his divorced parents. Tristan did a pretty good job, although I think that he should slow down in speaking his lines sometimes.

The play itself is very quiet. There is little spectacle in it, if any. It is the story of a man and woman who have loved each other for most of their lives, who have supported one another, forgiven one another, and have learned the almost impossible task of being comfortable with one another in spite of often very different ideas on how to look at life. Norman is a half-empty glass guy, Ethel definitely sees life as a glass half-full. I wouldn’t recommend this show for anyone under 13, not because there are difficult themes or any profanity or gore or anything sexual (though there is one rather funny scene where sex is discussed), but because the play is for people to see a life, a family, and then ponder it in a quiet, introspective way.

The look of The Father of the Bride was great. Despite a few technical hiccups and a broken cockatiel sculpture (which the actors improvised around very well), the visual aspects of the show were nearly flawless. The play takes place in the Stanley Banks home as he and his wife deal with the wedding of their daughter Kay. With the exception of the hanging light fixtures that looked modern-retro enough to feel like they came from IKEA, I really did feel like I was watching a 1960’s family in their 1960’s living room. Kimberly Fitt also did a marvelous job as costumer in the production. This was her first time as a costume designer for a Hale show, and she pulled it off wonderfully. Everyone looked natural in their clothing, and I never got the sense of anything looking too “costumey.”

The acting performances were pleasing overall as well, but I felt hazy as to everyone’s intentions. While I don’t expect theatrical experiences to be handed to me on a platter, I feel that a good show is built from a recognizable foundation of knowing what the characters want and need. I don’t think the actors ignored this foundation. However, as an audience member, these choices and desires didn’t read clear enough for me to be pulled into the story. The jokes and punchlines were more visible than the characters behind them.

That’s not to say that the actors did poorly. In fact, I felt like this was more of a directorial problem than anything else, but I’ll discuss that later on. My favorite performance of the night was Jenessa Brown as Peggy. Brown played a fairly small role, but she was funny, quirky, and real all at the same time. Applauding an actor for being real may seem like a cliché, but it is easy for these smaller roles to be characterized by nothing more than one line zingers. Whenever she opened her mouth, it didn’t feel like a funny script was being spouted off, it was just a funny girl talking at awkwardly funny times. When I saw Brown’s portrayal I could get a sense of her complete character, not just what I saw on stage. Kylee Bird as Kay Banks was a charming young bride to be as well. She had a great balance between the young idealistic girl, and the married woman she was to become. The play became confusing to me when it was revealed that Kay’s breakdown was due to a problem with the wedding invitations. The invitations suddenly became a key factor to her character that didn’t seem a part of her worries before. I only became aware of that concern when others lines in the script pegged that detail onto her character, so I didn’t really buy into it as an audience member.

David Weekes and Jennifer Hohl were wonderful as Kay’s parents. Among the three of them in the family, they had a real potential for the familial chemistry that is created during a wedding, and the three actors did achieve that in some scenes. The last scene, between Kay and her father, was the most touching of the night. It was this scene that made me realize that the rest of the play could have been great if it were not impeded by the need for playing for laughs. It was sincere, heartfelt, and I felt for this father and daughter who were on the cusp of changing their roles in life.

In director John Adams‘ note in the program, he stated an intent to return to the simpler times in which this story takes place. While the sentimentality of that nostalgia was apparent, I didn’t feel like it served as a good enough reason to support why this show was important enough to produce. Good laughs and simple times are only strong when compared to trial and struggle, and this production felt unbalanced in that aspect in its overall tone. I believe it was the director and not necessarily the script that was responsible for this lack of balance. A story of father and daughter preparing for the changes that come with marriage is a universal and touching story. Adams’ interpretation just seemed too much like it was being seen through rose colored glasses in order to keep the laughs rolling.

While I feel it is far from my duties as a reviewer to suggest changes to the production, this is how I honestly felt watching this play. I encourage readers to go see the show for themselves if they feel their tastes may be different from mine. I love a good laugh, and I feel like I am a sentimental person at heart, but I always feel like those things should be grounded in real and honest choices. For me, this show had all the packaging of a great wedding, but was more fluff than actual substance—despite great actors and designers.

David Weekes & Kylee Bird

The “fiddler on the roof” is a metaphor Tevye uses at the beginning of the show to describe the instability and foolishness of breaking away from tradition.  Throughout the show, Tevye struggles to be faithful to his customs and traditions while honoring his love for his daughters—whose actions turn farther and farther away from those customs.  The fiddler appears intermittently to remind the audience of Tevye’s position concerning his traditions; however, director Joanne Parker’s decision to change the actor playing the fiddler each time caused me to reflect on how Tevye’s perception of tradition evolves throughout the story.  All symbolism aside, this is a children’s show, and the target audience is likely to miss the subtleties that their parents will appreciate.   The musical was shortened, well-paced, and easy to digest.

In some ways, the production quality can be compared to the new building: clean, accessible, welcoming, and definitely ready for an audience, even though there may be some finishing touches to add.  They both add new vitality to something old. There were no microphones, and I don’t know how that affected audience members on the back row.  It wasn’t a problem for me on the second row because the performers all projected their voices.  The music (with musical direction by Anne Puzey) was well-balanced and delightful.  I sometimes think it can be harder to perform with a track instead of an orchestra, but the cast managed it just fine. The choreography (Camee Faulk) was simple, yet effective.  It was reminiscent of Yiddish styles, with an occasional Russian dance step (appropriate for the setting).  It’s always a good sign when the dancing makes the stage seem bigger than it actually is.  I’m sure that’s largely attributed to the energy level of the dancers.

The real highlight for me was the acting—especially from Robert Fernandez, who played Tevya.  From the first line of the show to the very end, Robert delivered a phenomenal portrayal of the conflicted patriarch.  His accent was convincing, his presence was known, and at times I forgot he was only a teenager.  Each of the three oldest daughters, Tzeitel (Phoenix Poore), Hodel (Annie Cowden), and Chava (Lucy Holmgren), displayed their own level of acting that showed maturity as well.  As they began to act on their own behalf, I saw a growth in the way they portrayed their characters—a transition from girls to women.

As I mentioned earlier, there are a few finishing touches I would like to have added.  While the staging and lighting was great, there were a few times when actors found themselves in the shadows.  But it’s likely that these things are a consequence of being in a new building and have been tweaked after the opening performance.  Also, I didn’t see enough anger/fight in most of the actors.  It would have been nice to see a more feistiness from some of the characters as they came in conflict with Tevye or the events around them.

In the end, I really enjoyed this production, and I would definitely suggest watching it – especially if you have children you’d like to introduce to Fiddler on the Roof.  You’ll enjoy what they’ve done to the new theater.  And after seeing Fiddler, I’m convinced that the Children’s Theatre will do more than renovate an old building.  They’re bringing vitality to a rich theater culture in the community they’ve moved to.  I’m excited to see more from them.