SALT LAKE CITY — In my job as a research psychologist, I am often required to consider the health and well-being of the people who choose to participate in my research. Modern ethical guidelines are a consequence of the abuses that medical doctors and social scientists have inflicted upon their research subjects. The history of psychology, anthropology, medicine, and other fields is full of examples of scientists violating people’s rights to privacy, informed consent, or right to leave a study voluntarily.

One of the most drastic examples of an unethical study in the United States was the Tuskegee Syphilis Study, which started in 1932 and ran for 40 years. During that time, approximately 600 African-American men—about two-thirds infected with syphilis—were studied as the disease progressed. The men were given placebo treatments and scientists and doctors watched as hundreds died from the disease. At first, there was nothing wrong with the study, because there was no effective cure for the disease. When penicillin became widely available in 1945, however, the drug was knowingly withheld from the men for 25 years when thousands nationwide were being cured of syphilis. Miss Evers’ Boys, currently playing at the Grand Theatre in Salt Lake City, is the story of how such a study could happen in the United States, and the moral, ethical, and medical dilemmas faced by those involved with the research.

Latoya Rhodes stars as the title character of Nurse Eunice Evers, and African-American nurse who serves as the primary liaison between the doctors running the study and the research subjects. Rhodes quickly establishes her character as somebody who loves her patients, but is prodded into lying to them (for years), withholding lifesaving drugs, and watching them die by a devotion to her craft and a steadfast desire to serve the medical profession the best way she can. Rhodes’s performance helped me see the title character as a woman who was required to make difficult choices. Rhodes wisely chose not to make her character a victim in the story (after all, the real victims are the men who were denied life saving drugs), but the silent, slow death of Evers’s ethics is one of the most tragic aspects of the play. I thought Rhodes was at her strongest when Willie Johnson (played by Sean J. Carter) experienced the first physical symptoms of the disease, which alternated repeatedly with a scene a few days later in one of the African-American Tuskegee doctors’ office. The two juxtaposed situations forced Rhodes to switch instantly between having command of a medical situation to being a powerless supplicant, pleading for proper medical attention for her friend and patient.

I was also pleased with the performances from the actors who portrayed the study participants. Lonzo Liggins was a riot as Caleb Johnson, a man who becomes convinced of the ineffectiveness of the “treatments” he is receiving and tries desperately to obtain penicillin for himself and his ailing friends. Caleb also has feelings for Eunice, and Liggins was masterful as he portrayed a man who had enough braggadocio and self-confidence to attempt to pick up a female nurse while wearing nothing but a backless hospital gown. Gregory Lang was also pleasing as the aging Ben Washington, a man born during the years of Reconstruction and who was practically a walking symbol of the reasons the Tuskegee study participants were exploited. Ben was illiterate, without social standing, poor, and completely powerless in his community. But Lang breathed life into his character (especially in his last scene) as he interacted with Eunice, which amplified the sorrow and frustration that I felt about the patients’ fates.

The rest of cast was admirable, too. At first I had trouble with Carter’s performance as Willie Johnson, but by intermission I was won over by the young, athletic character as he grew and changed (and as the disease grew and changed him). Carter’s performance is an evening-long crescendo, with his strongest, most poignant scenes appearing in the second act. The final patient, Hodman Bryan, was played by Ricardo Eugene, who was charming as he tried to treat his and his friends’ sickness with folk remedies.

As much as I loved this cast, I feel mixed about Toni Bird’s direction. Occasionally, such as when Caleb undergoes an incredibly painful spinal tap, Bird’s direction was masterful as she shows the misplaced trust that the patients placed in Nurse Evers. However, I thought that many scenes were also stagnant, such as the first scene in the schoolhouse and the scene at midnight when Hodman is trying to cure Willie with folk medicine. I also feel like Bird overused the technique of a hard freeze when Eunice paused during scenes to give narration; there are many other ways that Bird could have included the narration, but she seemed to always go back to the old workhorse of having her actors hold perfectly still while Rhodes delivered her monologues.

Spencer Brown‘s lighting design is probably the best technical element in the production. His gorgeous designs effectively conveyed locations, time of days, and mood in almost every scene. I loved the silhouettes he sparingly used, which reminded me that this story is about people who may have been powerless, but who deserved to be heard. The contrasts between colors (such as in the second act when Willie is trying futilely to dance) was effective in adding emotion and depth to the action on stage. The costumes (Catherine Zublin) and set (Keven Myhre) were simple and unassuming. But given the unglamorous time and place where the action took place (rural Alabama during the 1930′s and 1940′s), this is appropriate. The only technical element that I think could be improved is the sound. In the cavernous Grand Theatre, the microphones could be turned up a tad. From my seat in the fourth row it occasionally became hard to understand actors (such as during the scene where Nurse Evers is comforting Ben).

The highlight of the evening was, unquestionably, the incredibly strong script by David Feldshum. All five of the main characters in Feldshum’s script are incredibly endearing, and I felt a genuine emotional connection with them as they passed through their trials and triumphs. Feldshum also forces the audience to grapple with the issues of the study by muddying the waters and presenting both sides of the ethical debate. He avoids simple dichotomies like right and wrong, Whites exploiting African-Americans, or doctors ignoring patients. I’m pleased that Feldman avoids easy answers and instead insists that the audience leave the show with unanswered questions. However, Feldman’s script is extremely long. This production ran for 2 hours and 45 minutes, and I wish that Feldman had shortened some of the scenes (such as Ben’s last scene or when Caleb confronts Eunice for the last time).

Despite some minor flaws, I highly recommend that people attend Miss Evers’ Boys. The story is an important one that served as a catalyst for Congress to pass the laws governing medical and social science research today. But more importantly, it is a story of the consequences that occur when people ignore the basic human rights of other people. Legal structures may exist today to prevent another Tuskegee Syphilis Study in our country, but the human tendency to take advantage of others is within all of us. Miss Evers’ Boys shows us the consequences of a lack of personal vigilance in how we treat other human beings.

OREM — On Friday I attended Utah Valley University’s production of The Secret Garden. I got to campus about an hour early, and it’s a good thing I did. It took me 45 minutes to find the theater. So for those of you unfamiliar with UVU, be smarter then me and look at a map before you go!

The Secret Garden is based on a children’s book of the same title, and follows Mary Lennox, an orphan living in her recluse uncle’s home in England. Lonely and unhappy, she explores the grounds and discovers a garden that has not been seen for 10 years. This secret garden draws Mary, her invalid cousin Collin, and her heart-broken uncle together.

Turning a book into a stage production can be difficult, because books are designed to tell you what is happening and plays to show you what is happening. In this production, there was much more telling then showing. The script had a great deal of narration; instead of seeing the story unfold, we were being told what has happening by narrators. This was especially true in the beginning of the show. One moment where this was particularly distracting was when Mary (Heather Ashton) was traveling to her uncle’s home after her parents’ deaths. A narrator told us that Mary was accompanied on the train by a clergyman’s wife who was very happy to be rid of her at the end of the journey. It sounded like a good story, and I wondered what Mary had done to try this woman’s patience so badly. I wanted to see their interaction. But all I got was that single sentence, and I felt I had missed out on something. There was less narration as the show progressed, but I found myself wondering if there was another way to give the audience the background information we needed without narrating it to us.

The staging also caused a few sight problems. The stage runs down the center of the theater with the audience facing each other on either side, like a runway. The stage was long and narrow, which meant that the actors often had their backs to one half of the audience, or had their profiles to the audience. This made it difficult to see facial expressions. From my seat, I often had to rely on the actors’ lines to understand what they were feeling and thinking instead of being able to see it on their faces. This was especially true in Mary’s interactions with Ben Weatherstaff (Robbie X. Pierce), a gardener who worked for her uncle. Their scenes took place in the long space in the middle of the stage. At one point Ben got extremely angry at Mary for asking too many questions about the locked garden and sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. She had been told multiple times that that garden is off limits, and should just accept that. His back was to me throughout this speech; I never got to see his face. It was frustrating to hear his anger but not be able to see it. I only saw Mary’s reaction but felt I was only seeing half the story. When I see a play, I want to see the whole story, not just the parts that happen to be facing my direction.

The staging was a disservice to the actors because, as a general rule, they were very talented. Heather Ashton (who played Mary Lennox) and Jordan Kramer (as Collin Craven) were especially fun to watch. Both were successful 10-year-olds; they had the attitudes and quirks of small children. When Mary was given a jump rope by Martha (Kaela Keel Hernandez), watching her trying to learn to use it was priceless. No one is born knowing how to jump rope, and her slow but excited progress made her look 10 years old. She would bring the rope over her head, let it lie of the floor for a second or to, then step over it. She did this over and over again, excited that she was getting better, even though she never moved very quickly. Kramer had the self-importance and confidence that some children exhibit effortlessly. He assumed that everyone would do exactly what he wanted them to do. At one point he dismisses his doctor and the housekeeper with a terse, “I have spoken, you may now depart.” Never mind that they are at least 25 years older then him; he is in charge and knows it. This self-assurance turned Collin into the comic relief, which was a unique and wonderful choice. I have seen several versions of The Secret Garden, and Collin generally comes off whiney and irritating. But Kramer had the audience laughing every time he was on stage with his belief that he was utterly in charge.

There were some beautiful visual moments in the piece, in the character of the robin. This bird was played by Morgan Fenner, who carried a robin on a stick, and voiced by a flute, played by Jordan Hall. As the robin, Fenner and Hall conveyed irritation, excitement, fear, and even sarcasm through music and movement. One moment I really enjoyed was when Mary and Dickon (the latter played by Christian Max Richards Jolley) are watching the robin. Mary jumps up and starts towards him. Morgan hopped back and then fluttered on the spot, looking just like a bird that has been startled. It was so much fun to watch a bird on a stick interact with the other characters because it was so clear what the robin was thinking and feeling, even though he wasn’t a speaking character. It was a wonderful director’s choice that added comedy and fun to the piece.

The set design (designer Alison Clare) also added visual interest. At first glance, it looks very simple; a bedroom on one end of the stage and a garden wall on the other. But both pieces turn into other places, allowing the center of the stage to become hallways in the house, gardens outside, or any other location the play needed. It was beautifully designed and added a magical dynamic that works well with The Secret Garden. The moment when Mary finds the key to the locked garden and opens the door was fabulous. Light shone through the open door across the stage as she walked through the door. Then the garden wall piece turned, and she walked back through the door. It was obvious that she had just entered the garden, and the lighting and set made it clear that the moment was important.

I struggled with the script and some of the director’s (John Newman) staging choices in The Secret Garden. But I was impressed with the acting overall. I felt a great deal of dedication from the actors to their characters, which made them fun to watch, even when I was frustrated by narration or bad sight lines. I especially enjoyed the second act, after Collin came on the scene and the comedy and energy picked up. The Secret Garden is a wonderful story, and I enjoyed UVU’s telling of it.

PROVO — The Merchant of Venice is one of Shakespeare’s most complex plays. It deals with issues of race, the legal system, love, duty, mercy, and justice. So to go into BYU’s production without any foreknowledge, one might be surprised to see the place is decked out for kids. That’s right, BYU’s Young Company took what is already a bold choice and went even further to make it accessible for children. What a feat!

For those that aren’t familiar with the plot of The Merchant of Venice, it revolves around a Jew named Shylock who acts a moneylender to the rich Venetian Antonio. Antonio gets money for his friend Bassanio who needs funds to woo the beautiful Portia. Shylock decides to lend the money with the stipulation that if Antonio cannot pay it back by a certain date, he must forfeit a pound of flesh of Shylock’s choosing. The plot thickens as  Antonio falls on hard times and cannot repay in time, forcing Bassanio come to his aid. However his newly won love, Portia, has plans of her own and in exacting mercy and justice to the fullest extent, she teaches everyone a lesson about human nature.

This production let the audience come up with replacement occupations, money, and nationalities for the characters. I thought it would be silly, hearing about a man who worked at the DMV, or a beautiful woman from Mordor, but this technique worked really well in diffusing the race issue in this play. The cast also handled this choice well, because they—impressively—never missed the words that they needed to change. The whole show followed this interactive vein, in fact. Children sat on the stage, audience members were asked questions, and some audience members even pulled up to play parts. This was the great success of this show. Children were given costumes and small lines and they didn’t just play guards or villagers, but were secondary characters, and they were adorable! Though they were a little shy at first, they warmed up as it went on, and it was clear they were loving it.

While the look and feel of this show was great, the acting was a little subpar.  Adam White was an energetic Bassanio and Jenna Hawkins was great as the little parts she played within the show when she wasn’t the Storyteller, but it seemed a little fake and put on whenever they talked to the audience. Katie Jarvis as Antonia had a cool, dominating demeanor that worked, but I had a hard time hearing her even in the intimate space. Shakespeare, even for children, is all about the language, and I felt like sometimes this cast sacrificed the magic of the words in order to seem more accessible.

Not all the acting was off that night, though. Andrew Foree was great as playing the frustrated Shylock. He gave a certain gravity and wasn’t too villainous, and didn’t make Shylock seem like a total victim either. That’s a hard balance to find in this play and Foree did well with that. Sarah Butler’s quick witted and charming Portia was another highlight of the evening. She really worked well with the audience and made her scenes feel balanced between presentation and naturalism. Her ability to walk between the world of the play and the world of the audience helped strengthen the sharp intelligence of her character and I really enjoyed watching her scenes.

Besides some of the faults this production had in the acting, it focused on clean cut, clear interactions with the kids. That being said,  I think this is a major success. Seeing the glow on the face of the little girl who was chosen to play Nerissa as she was cheered on by the audience made me reflect on all the great exposure I had to Shakespeare as a child. Shows like this are the reason I started reading Shakespeare at a young age. It was simply too exciting not to read!  So I think it is a great accomplishment whenever a company exposes  children to works what adults deem as “too advanced.”  The smiles on the kids faces that night were proof enough that such a thought is far from truth.

This giveaway is restricted to Utah residents only!

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Centerville — If you’ve seen Noises Off (either the film or or the stage version), then you know of Gary, one of the classic comedic characters in theater. He tends to stutter through life and ends many of his statements with an uncertain “you know.”  Noises Off, currently playing at CenterPoint Legacy Theatre, is full of colorful characters like Gary as this farce within a farce barrels out of control. The first act introduces us to a troupe of actors as they rehearse late into the night before they open their show, Nothing On (a farce) the next day.

Like most farces, Noises Off is a hysterical ride that propels us into a world of absolute chaos and out-of-control laughter. This show is the perfect example of what a farce should be with its quickened pace, improbable interactions an random plot twists. Noises Off is probably my favorite comedic piece of theater and I commend writer Michael Frayn on the sheer brilliance and insanity that he has created.

The second act takes us back stage as the actors rush on and off the set of Nothing On. Other than the lines from the show they are doing, most of this act is without dialogue as we observe the silent backstage mayhem. The third and final act is completely nonsensical and absurd, but absolutely fantastic. Best said by the Nothing On director Lloyd (David Marsden), this show is about “doors and sardines. Getting on, getting off. Getting the sardines on, getting the sardines off. That’s farce.”

One of the things I most enjoy about this show is the potential for things to go wrong, thus forcing the actors to improvise. The fun thing about this is the fact that so much is actually scripted to go wrong that one would be hard pressed to see when something is intended or is truly a misstep. One such moment came during the performance I saw on Friday night during the first act where Gary (Lee Cannon) is on the phone and the phone cord comes unplugged form the handset. I think this was an actual mishap, but Cannon had so much fun with improvization that it became one of the funniest and authentic moments of the night.

Linda Jean Stephenson plays the sardine-obsessed Dotty with such delight. I thoroughly enjoyed her transformation from struggling to remember her lines and props to overtly not caring and muttering “I’ve never lost the phone before,” on stage during Nothing On. David Marsden as Lloyd is the embodiment of a director who watches his show spin out of control from the sidelines. I worried he might actually blow his top with his struggle to control his temper in the “What’s that dad?” interaction with the flaky, cell-phone playing (nice addition) Brooke (Kati Paul). Freddie (Bob Bedore) was most hysterical in the third act with his dramatic aversion to violence and continuous apologies. Scott Van Dyke as Selsdon chasing the bottle of whisky through the whole show and Cameron Garner (who needs to work on enunciation a little) as Tim trying to buy the flowers were the highlights in act two. Stage hand Poppy (Paige Hunsicker) and gossip queen Belinda (Mara Lefler) were both enjoyable to watch as well. However, there was one character that I just couldn’t connect to. I worry that Kati Paul was miscast as the oblivious Brooke, who is supposed to be flightily and ditzy but felt rather flat and unresponsive instead.

The direction of the show is pretty solid. I’ve heard from directors, that they feel like Lloyd (the director of Nothing On in the show) as they work through Noises Off.   While incredibly funny, it is complex and I imagine unbelievably difficult to direct. Josh Richardson (the real director of Noises Off for CenterPoint Legacy Theatre) does a good job getting the necessary pieces in place for this show to move forward. Considering the complexity of the play, Richardson’s choices work. However, the play needs to be tightened up quite a bit. I suspect this will come as the actors get more confident with the live audience, but much of act two is still obviously choreographed rather than fluid and natural. What is lacking in timing is made up by the sheer hilarity of what writer Michael Frayn has created.

On a side note for all theaters, in addition to the cell phone message at the beginning, I’d recommend advising patrons to unwrap cough drops or candy prior to the show beginning. A reminder at intermission would be exceptional as wrapped goods are often sold. Personally, I find this very disruptive and it feels reminiscent of being in a movie theater rather than attending a live theatrical production.

Overall, I found Centerpoint Legacy’s production of Noises Off to be awfully entertaining. If you like a good old fashioned belly aching laugh and have not seen this show before – then I highly recommend checking out their production.

LINDON — For thirty-seven years, the Valley Center Playhouse has been bringing quality, fun-filled, family friendly shows. Playing now until February 13, they are performing Marriage Go Round, which is a compilation of two different one-act plays. Interestingly, the combination of these two pieces give a pretty good showcase of what marriage is. And that’s saying something.

The first play is Why I am a Bachelor written by Conrad Seiler. The premise of this is that the Lecturer (Tyrone Svedin), one of the modern-day conmen who play to large audiences who have more money than sense, conducts seminars pontificating why people should stay single. Svedin has the swagger necessary, and interacts with the audience easily.

To show why singlehood is preferable to marriage, he has an example couple: Heidi, played by Sarah Pendleton, and Andrew, played by Daniel Tomlinson. We first see Heidi and Andrew just after their engagement. Andrew is completely insane with romantic love, and Tomlinson is hilariously perfect in this role. His facial expressions are appropriately goofy, and we ache to watch him act like such a fool. But I cringed because I had a premonition of what was coming.

Fast forward two years. It’s Heidi and Andrew’s anniversary, and they’re having a big fight. It isn’t pretty, but it is pretty realistic. The Lecturer by this time has been confronted by a lovely girl, played by Makinsey Eddy, who relates that her parents have been married for 40 years and yes, there are some tough times, but they are littered with tender moments, too. The Lecturer obviously doesn’t want to show this. He’s making money by convincing everyone to stay single. But the Girl asks the couple to show one of those tender moments, and they do. I won’t tell you what it is, but it’s charming and heartwarming and sweet. And it completely obliterates the icky fight.

What I liked about this play is that the couple is supposed to be a real couple, but is happy to recreate their happy and not-so-happy moments. It’s a shift in perspective that delighted me. All the performers were great, but Tomlinson definitely stole this show with his sincere performance.

The next one-act is a play written by Mark Twain called Adam and Eve. This has some really funny moments and some serious ones, too. For the first part of the play, Eve (played by Tonya Patterson) calls Adam (delightfully played by Dave Patterson) a reptile and he calls her “The Creature.” When they are cast out of the Garden of Eden, they begin to recognize their value to one another and realize they love one another. As anyone familiar with the story knows, soon Adam and Eve know sorrow when their elder son kills his younger brother. The end of the show is tender but, I’ll be honest, really sad. It’s an inevitable ending, but still…

Adam Cannon, the show’s director, did a fabulous job with both plays, choreographing movement throughout. Especially in Adam and Eve, with only two actors and minimal set decoration, movement was required. His directing for Why I am a Bachelor is equally proficient. The Valley Center Playhouse is a theater in the round, in that it has a “stage” in the middle and seats on all four sides. All the actors did well to keep moving so they never had their back to any audience for long. I also love venues like this because the actors don’t have to wear microphones. We hear their pure, clear voices without a bunch of static. Ahhhh.

I was sorry that only eighteen people attended tonight’s performance. However, I’m not sure this show is for children. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but kids might get bored because it has a theme that’s more interesting to adults than children: marriage. My 16-year-old thought it was great, so I’m going to say teenagers and up will love this show.

The only thing I can say that isn’t totally positive is the Valley Center Playhouse has some miles on it. It could use a little sprucing up. But it really is a gem and it’s nice that there are places to go that aren’t too expensive and have a little bit more pizzazz than the same old movie date night or family activity.

SALT LAKE CITY — Thursday night I attended by first production at the Sugar Space just off 7th East, a performance space I’ve been hearing a lot about. The theatre itself is actually a lot bigger than I would have guessed from the foyer. It’s a good sized space; if anything, it could probably do with more seating. The production happening there now is Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Nile, staged by Titus Productions and directed by Jake Andersen.

I love Agatha Christie. She wrote hundreds of twisted stories (there’s a double meaning there), some of them rather grisly. And though a number of them have similar elements, they always keep you guessing. Murder on the Nile is no exception.

The play has quite a few eccentric characters who, in traditional Christie style, first present themselves as strangers but whose lives, it turns out, actually intersect in shocking ways. At the center of this particular whodunnit is actress Kay Ridgeway Mostyn (Serra Willis), the wealthiest woman in England. To the surprise and dismay of her fans, Kay has recently married the penniless Simon Mostyn (Michael Chestnut) a young man far below her in social standing. The couple, recognized wherever they go, are taking a honeymoon cruise aboard the Lotus, a ship that cruises the Nile. Also on the Lotus are renowned novelist Salome Ottoman (Rachael Rasmussen) and her daughter Christina (Olivia Osborne). Though wealthy herself, Salome is on the brink of a slander lawsuit brought against her by Kay; if the case carries, Salome will lose everything. Kay’s mistreated maid Louise (Devin Johnson) is on board, as is a doctor whose reputation was ruined by Kay’s father (Lorrinda Christen), as well as Kay’s uncle, Ambrose Pennefeather, a canon in the Anglican church.

Last to board the ship is Jacqueline de Severac (Amber Avery), Kay’s former best friend and, we discover, Simon’s former fiancee. How’s that for a plot thickener? Jacqueline, it seems, can’t quite forgive Kay or get over Simon and has followed them all the way to Egypt on their honeymoon. You may have guessed that Kay is the one who ends up dead. As to who did it, well… Christie packs the Lotus full of possible motives, and I won’t spoil the ending, but some may find the killer to be as surprising as Kay’s whirlwind wedding.

The play and the production both have their flaws. Murder on the Nile is not Christie’s best, full of obvious red (pink?) herrings and pointless characters. As far as the show goes, the acting is rough around the edges, tipping Christie’s dated script into the realm of melodrama. I felt like I was being yelled at most of the evening; sometimes the volume was a valiant attempt at projection, but mostly it was an unnecessary expression of emotion. Accents also tended to get in the way of things.

Stand-outs the cast include Rachel Rasmussen, whose portrayal of the tipsy Salome always won a chuckle. Though he doesn’t look the least bit Egyptian and is probably half the size of everyone else in the show, 8th grader Nate Andersen is a firecracker as the Lotus’s Steward, serving drinks and bossing the crew. I was impressed by the number of high and junior high schoolers in the cast (and even running the show’s tech).

This was my first experience with Titus Productions. My impression is that they are family-oriented theatre group out to have fun with a classic Christie caper. The production experience among the cast differs, and there is a range of ages represented. This community theatre outing in particular is attached to a fine cause: all proceeds from this weekend’s performances will help a local family whose young father is being treated for cancer; if you are interested in learning more or making a donation, I’ve included a link to Titus’s Facebook page below in the info box.

Did the show have the gleam and polish of a professional show? No. Walking in and seeing the set, my first thought was that I was in the wrong place, that I had wandered into someone’s wedding reception. Could this be the 1950′s? Maybe kinda sorta. But hey—a group of family and friends got together and put on a show, and for a good cause, to boot. That takes guts and passion. Who am I to get in the way of that?

MURRAY — One of the benefits with working for UTBA is visiting theaters that normally I wouldn’t purchase a ticket for, such as Desert Star Theatre. Given my tastes in theatre, none of the ads for the Desert Star’s parodies ever caught my attention. But I’m willing to give almost any venue a try, so I volunteered to be the reviewer for Desert Star’s latest production, CSI Provo: Decaffeinated DNA.

CSI Provo: Decaffeinated DNA tells the story of a murder that is discovered on the BYU campus. Gil Grimace (played by Jeff Jensen), a crime scene investigator who also teaches biology classes at UVU, is called upon to use his expertise to investigate a murder on the BYU campus. Joining him in investigating the homicide are Darlene Small (Corinne Adair), who has little spare time because of her duties as a Relief Society president and a mother of many children; and Horatio Caruso (Matt Kohler), a non-Mormon detective for the city of Provo. Gil also wishes to marry the daughter of legendary BYU football coach LaVell Edwards (Matthew Mullaney), who is also named LaVell (the daughter LaVell is played by Kelley Knight). After Gil forgets about the wedding because of the distraction of the murder investigation, Gil’s professional and personal life are in crisis.

The cast’s job actually isn’t that difficult. All of the characters in the play are caricatures and the goal isn’t to portray realistic, multidimensional people. Instead, they’re supposed to squeeze as much humor out of the script as possible. Although this isn’t hard, it takes commitment, and the slightest lack of commitment would make the show suffer greatly. With this in mind, I was most impressed by Adair and Jensen, both of whom gave all the energy they could muster to their performances. I especially enjoyed their camaraderie and their command of the humor in the crime lab scene in the second act. Although most of the actors were impressive, I did feel slightly disappointed by Mullaney’s performance. His performance wasn’t bad, but he never appeared to belong in such a silly piece of theatre. Instead, he often seemed a little awkward and rarely connected with his fellow actors. This was most apparent in the scenes in the Edwards home where he was supposed to be angry at his daughter, but never really showed it. However, Mullaney was much more comfortable when portraying the BYU president at a country club. Finally, it’s worth mentioning that Richie T. Steadman was hilarious in his many different roles; he definitely stole the scene where he played an exaggerated version of LDS musician Kurt Bestor.

Visually, I thought that this show was delightful. The backdrops were beautifully drawn (although the crime lab backdrop was obviously a reused backdrop that was probably supposed to originally be a mad scientist’s lab) and I loved the set piece that represented the BYU campus bell tower. The costumes (designed by Lynn Funk) were simple and had a low-budget feel that worked excellently with the tongue-in-cheek attitude of the show.

The story is extremely simple and Ben E. Millet—who wrote the script—shoehorned every joke possible into the 60-minute show. The story and the humor is clearly aimed at an LDS population; anyone who hasn’t spent time in Utah County would probably be perplexed at a few of the jokes. But all the old standbys are there: church basketball, scrapbooking, caffeine, the BYU honor code, etc. (It’s all done affectionately and nothing sacred is ridiculed.) If you’ve been an LDS Church member your entire life, you’ve probably heard many of these. But there is quite a bit of original humor, and I found myself laughing pretty hard, especially in the second act.

The night was capped off with the olio, a music and comedy performance that is a tradition at Desert Star. I found the olio to be the highlight of the evening and more enjoyable than the actual show itself. Knight and David Martin especially were impressive in the olio, and both actors took advantage of the format to showcase their talents. Knight was wonderful in the opening medley and in her performance of “One Fine Day.” Martin naturally mingled with the audience as he told jokes, sang, and even danced with people.

In conclusion, Millet’s script isn’t poetry. It’s not complex or thought provoking. But it’s not supposed to be. Millet’s goal was clearly to do nothing more than make people laugh for an hour. On its own terms, CSI Provo: Decaffeinated DNA was a success. Desert Star has clearly mastered their formula for an evening’s entertainment. If you’re looking for a life-changing evening of theatre, you won’t find it. But if you want to laugh and forget your worries for an hour and a half, Desert Star is the place to be.

SALT LAKE CITY — In my high school theater class, we were taught that when a person wants something, they also—believe it or not—want its opposite.  For example, I want to be healthy and finish my broccoli, but I also really want to throw it away and eat seven cookies.  We theatre kids were told that an actor must be aware of these contrasting desires, and communicate them to our audience.  Find and Sign is full of opposites, dilemmas, and duality.  This play struck a chord with me as it showcased the polarity of human beings, and did so with flair. Wendy MacLeod, the writer of Find and Sign, was inspired by Shakespeare’s Othello.  I don’t know all the traits the two shows share, but I do know that both plays explore the same themes: racism, love, jealousy, and betrayal.

The play opens with our hero and heroine meeting at a party in New York City.  Iago’s focus, we find out later, is his career.  He wants to find a great R&B group, sign them, and move up the corporate ladder.  But Julia steps into his path and the two connect through their mutual frankness and humor; Julia sees potential in Iago, a trace of humanity that she decides to have faith in. Julia introduces Iago to one of her students, who is a talented musician.  She also connects Iago’s boss with her beautiful roommate.  Everyone in the cast gets conflicting desires to choose between throughout the show, and even beyond, as it doesn’t all get wrapped up by the end.

I was impressed with how full the theater was; Pioneer Theater Company sure knows how to pack a house.  And most of the patrons near me seemed to be regulars.  The play invited us into a different, cooler world than most of us see day to day (at least for me, anyway).  The urban looking set, the parties, the lifestyle of a record executive—just the feeling created by the music (Matthew Tibbs) and lighting (Dennis Parichy) made me lean into the stage a little closer.

There were six actors in the show, and each was cast so well.  I want to mention Iago (Karl Miller), who seemed like such a ho-hum guy at the beginning, but as Julia became more and more interested in him, so did I.  Miller knew just how to deliver each line to make me love him, even when I thought maybe I shouldn’t.  I have to say, too, that Julia’s best friend, Mona (Gardner Reed) was pretty much impeccable.  She was glamorous, kind and energetic.  Her English accent and her beautifully deep voice really added another color to the auditory environment.  I loved her.

Julia (Molly Ward) was a delightfully awkward character, and she really explored a wide array of emotions.  What a brave actress she was.  There is a scene when Julia and Mona are in a clothing store, and Julia is picking out lingerie.  We all know you’re supposed to try on those things over your own underwear, for sanitary purposes, and Julia follows this rule.  But the ongoing scene that takes place with her wearing her possible purchase over her own white “granny-panties” is anything but routine—hilariously awkward and just plain funny.  Props to Molly Ward.

One complaint about the acting, though I hate to mention it, is with Andre, Iago’s boss and best friend.  Played by Keith Hamilton Cobb, Andre was supposed to be Jamaican, apparently, but his accent came and went throughout the show.  Cobb did a great job, other than that.  I loved it when he would swagger offstage, because physically, that man epitomized power.

I admire those who designed and created the set for Find and Sign (James Wolk).  There is a sort-of patchwork background made out of bricks and metal-looking patterns. The sets for each scene roll on from the sides and through the background.  Julia and Mona’s apartment, varying restaurants and clubs, and Andre’s office all came on and off with precision.  Director Charles Morey intricately weaved the actors’ entrances and exits into these set changes, and most costume changes (with costumes designed by Pamela Scofield), too, were seamlessly made on stage during transitions.  The actors stayed in character and carried their emotions with them in the dimmed lighting.  The whole thing was like a dance; it was fascinating.  And I won’t give away the ending, but thank you to the set design team, and the costumers, for painting a beautiful finale.

There were some hilarious lines in this production.  Can’t help but mention the comparison between The Cat in The Hat and being on drugs, the discussion between Andre and Iago about what a Boppy is, lots and lots of queries as to whether a previous comment was racist, and a bit of good- natured jokes about New York City.  My favorite, favorite line (you can see the show to find out who says it) is, “I will love you when you are plump and grey.”

Be advised that there is some adult content in this production.  Personally, I didn’t feel overly put off by anything in the show.  Ok, but one short scene did make me uncomfortable.  It preceded Iago and Julia’s first intimate encounter and I just didn’t enjoy how openly they were speaking.  Also, the profanity seemed to multiply near the end.  But I knew what I was getting into; the content was clearly advertised on the website and even in the lobby of the theater.  An older man behind me (maybe not so well-informed) commented at intermission that the production was like something you’d see on television that you “maybe outta turn off, but you leave on.”  It made me smile a bit.

My eyes and ears were pretty much delighted by this engaging show.  I don’t think a single line fell flat—such clever writing it was.  The actors are phenomenal, and the director used his wonderful crew to full advantage.  I wish I had room to list every name.  Find and Sign is a great piece of theatre at the PTC; you ought to go fill up one of their few empty seats.  Really.  Go.

SALT LAKE CITY – In traditional Neil LaBute style, In a Dark Dark House hinges on sudden twists in the story, and I’ll do my best not to let any spoilers out. The play opens with two estranged brothers meeting for what might be the first time in a while. Successful lawyer Drew (Lucas Bybee) has been incarcerated after crashing his car while under the influence of cocaine. Now undergoing therapy and rehab, he asks his elder brother, security guard Terry (Brandon Sean Pearson) to corroborate the story he’s telling his doctors: that he was sexually abused as a child. There are only three scenes in the play, and the first, between the brothers, unleashes a flood of emotion and baggage.

Bybee is particularly fine here, torn between mending the harm he’s wreaked and the expensive life he’s on the brink of losing. As older brother Terry, Pearson is a towering mass of brooding anger, just waiting for the right fuse to set off an explosion.

Also traditionally LaBute, the dialogue is natural and pedestrian, in some places to a fault. For example, Terry constantly chides Drew for using words like “dude,” “totally,” and “whatever,” trying to be younger and hipper than he is. The thing is, those words fit perfectly into Terry’s vocabulary and with his character; I had a hard time believing that he was so bothered by his brother’s word choice. LaBute’s scripts are also full of overlapping sentences, lines that trail off, and vague “you know”s. Ambiguity, while key to naturalism to an extent, gets in the way of the storytelling here. Suggestions are put forward, though dubiously, leaving the viewer to wonder what really happened. Some of the more vague moments in the play, it seems, are placed for shock value, to make the audience gasp and chill, when really they can’t be certain what exactly has occurred.

But the performances are the attraction here. Even if I didn’t completely understand the brothers, I felt a connection between them—a reminder of sorts that blood is thicker than water. Bybee and Pearson hold each other at arm’s length, eying each other warily, firmly attached as brothers yet distrusting of one another as men. The conflict between them is rich and meaty as they finally grapple with the years of resentment piled between them.

Sandwiched between two acts featuring the brothers is a scene that may seem out of place, as I must discuss it out of context: Terry befriends teenager Jennifer (Lexie Allen) on hole 13 of the mini golf course she manages. In stark contrast to the other two acts, the mood here is light and fun, though you can’t quite escape the idea that something terrible might be lurking underneath. Allen seems to enjoy playing the headstrong teenager who is not afraid to talk to strangers, especially the tall, good-looking, rough-around-the-edges kind of gent. It’s great to see a lighter, brighter side to Pearson’s Terry, and there is something perverse yet appropriate about a key scene in this play taking place on a mini golf course. Pearson and Allen have a fun rapport, though I got more of a big brother/little sister vibe than that of a potential romance.

Director Sam C. McGinnis V does a fairly solid job directing this tricky piece, keeping things moving and not letting anyone—the audience included—get comfortable. I do take issue with the choice to put up the show in the round, however. When I first entered the space and saw the seating configuration, I intentionally sat on one of the sides to make a fair assessment. For the most part, things work (Kit Anderton’s simple and effective set helps) though there were several moments where one actor would completely block another, especially when a strong look or expression was being employed instead of words. Lines were muffled and nearly lost, being harder to hear from behind an actor’s back; I realize the space is intimate and the story is powerful, but a little projection couldn’t hurt.

One choice that didn’t sit well was that of having Terry left alone on stage at the end of each act. I don’t know if this was McGinnis’s choice, or if it’s written into the play, but it felt a little heavy-handed to me: as if we needed to see Terry writhe in confusion one last time before we would believe he was actually troubled. It made Pearson’s performance feel like, well, a performance and not an organic occurrence.

In a Dark Dark House deals with issues that are difficult to talk about, from addiction to sexual abuse to homophobia. The performances make Wasatch Theatre Company’s current production worth seeing, and the story may haunt you long after it’s over.