Snapshots So Much More Than A Scrapbook by Tina Arth

A Musical Scrapbook is playing at Broadway Rose’s New Stage, 12850

SW Grant Avenue, Tigard through Sunday, February 19th.

Although I love musical theater, I still generally have modest hopes for musical

revues, even in the deft hands of a company as skilled as Broadway Rose. I expect

to hear memorable songs sung by strong vocalists with clear solos and complex

and beautiful harmonies. I expect to see all of this draped loosely around a story

line that sometimes fits, sometimes feels like an afterthought. However, I do not

expect to be moved – much less driven to tears – by the beauty of a tale that

unfolds on stage and is enhanced rather than limited by the music. To say that

Snapshots: A Musical Scrapbook exceeded my expectations is a vast

understatement.

The show is based on thirty + songs from the rich musical catalogue of

playwright/songwriter Stephen Schwartz (think Wicked, Godspell, Pippin,

Enchanted, Children of Eden, as well as a few shows I’ve never heard of and a

couple of songs written just for Snapshots). Among the many unique features of

this utterly original work, perhaps the most extraordinary is that Schwartz

collaborated closely with playwright David Stern, actually rewriting the lyrics to

some of his most iconic songs to conform to the needs of the book. The result is a

completely new story, woven seamlessly around music that is often familiar but

that can be experienced in an entirely new light.

The story covers thirty + years in the relationship between Sue and Dan,

childhood friends/buddies who eventually marry, raise a son, and find themselves

drifting apart. Sue is planning to leave her husband, and comes across a box of old

snapshots while packing in the attic. As she and Dan look at the snapshots they

relive the path that has brought them to this point. Vignettes from various

periods in their lives are handled by six actors – the mature Sue and Dan (Ali Bell

and Andrew Maldarelli), the young adult Susan and Daniel (Marin Donohue and

Alex Trull), and the children Susie and Danny (Sophie MacKay and Collin Carver).

While the story shifts frequently between past and present, it’s easy to adjust to

the rhythm, and it’s fascinating to watch Sue and Dan interact (through their

memories) with their younger selves.

The entire cast brings remarkable vocal and dramatic prowess to each scene; the

solos and vocal ensemble work are equally sublime, and the mixture of nostalgia

and loneliness is leavened by frequent moments of witty awareness and even flat-

out comedy (MacKay’s sassy charm and Carver’s defensive insecurity are

wonderful, and as cheerleader “Marilou” Carver is simply stunning). A high point

in the show, for me, was finally hearing Maldarelli utter the last words in “With

You,” and Bell drove me to tears with the quiet “The Hardest Part of Love.” In a

show replete with strong voices, Trull still manages to stand out, and he and

Donohue are unforgettable in the much-reprised “If We Never Meet Again.”

Music Director/Conductor Colin Shepard manages to weave piano, bass, drums

and guitar into orchestral accompaniment worthy of each song’s illustrious

origins, and Director Annie Kaiser has navigated the swirls and eddies of an

incredibly complex show so that it flows smoothly. Scenic Designer Larry Larsen

has built a beautifully cluttered, utterly believable multi-level attic perfectly suited

to the mood of the show. In short, I could not love it more.

Proof – I’m Convinced by Tina Arth

 

Photo by Beth Moore shows Katie Souza, Amelia Michaels, and Jason Paris

Mask & Mirror’s latest is one of those “stop reading right now, get your tickets, then come back if you are so moved” shows. I would say this if it were playing in a 500-seat theater, but myadvice is all the more urgent because playwright David Auburn’s Proof is on stage at the tiny Tualatin Heritage Center and there are only six remaining performances. The Pulitzer Prize/Tony Award winning play, in the hands of Director Tony Broom and four superb actors, is hands down the most powerful and moving thing I’ve seen since local stages reopened after the pandemic shut-downs. 
 

Other than my general awareness that the play involves mathematical theory, I had no idea what to expect – I had never seen the stage play before, nor have I seen the 2005 movie version. To say that I was blown away is an understatement – the script is brilliant, and clearly informed by the author’s deep understanding of the nuances of both mental illness and the mathematical mind. Even the best script requires careful direction of the right actors to really shine, and Broom has guided his fine cast through both character and plot twists with a subtle, steady and knowing touch.

 

In a spoiler-free nutshell: Catherine (Amelia Michaels) remains in her family home, where she has been caretaker to her recently deceased father Robert (Greg Prosser), a once brilliant mathematician whose mind has succumbed to mental illness. Catherine’s sister Claire (Katie Souza) is determined to convincethe obviously depressed Catherine come live with her in New York. One of Robert’s former students, Hal (Jason Paris), suspects that his previously-gifted mentor may have left a spark of genius in his hundreds of notebooks (many filled with drivel), and he is determined to search them all. By the end, Hal finds both the proof (mathematical) and proof (as in compelling and irrefutable evidence) that nicely ties the strands of the plot writ large and the human relationships together into a satisfying whole.

 

Michaels delivers a master class in acting throughout the show – there was not a moment that she was on stage that I was not riveted by her performance as she revealed herself and developed her very different relationships with her fellow cast members.  During the few times that she was on the sidelines I was torn about who to watch, so my head swiveled back and forth to catch every movement and expression. Prosser’s “Robert” has just the right flat, mindlessly abrasive affect to convey his mental illness, and is surprisingly passionate in the moments when he is (or thinks he is) in control. Souza is hard to love as Claire – trying to be the “good” daughter but coming across as appallingly pushy and domineering – but she ultimately shows us enough of her background to convince us that she’s not a monster. Paris is simply fabulous as Hal – naïve, academically ambitious, good-hearted but utterly clueless in the ways of the world, crushing on his mentor’s daughter and still enamored of his professor’s former brilliance. 

 

A final note – the sets at the Tualatin Heritage Center is notoriously, necessarily minimalist, and never more so than in Mask & Mirror’s staging of Proof where the set décor consists almost completely of a folding table, three chairs, and a snow shovel. I can give no higher praise for this show than to say that it simply doesn’t matter – it’s the performances that make the show, and an elaborate set would have been at best a distraction.

 

Mask & Mirror’s Proof is playing at The Tualatin Heritage Center, 8700 SW Sweek Drive, Tualatin, through Sunday, February 5, with performances at 7:30 on Fridays and Saturdays, 3:00 on Sundays.

 

5 Lesbians Eating a Quiche – a Light Snack at Twilight by Tina Arth

Fey Devro, August Wygal, Alicia Turvin, Jenny Tien, and Brit 
Eagan

There is a lot to like about Twilight Theater Company’s current production, 5 Lesbians Eating a

Quiche – the comic chops of the five actors, the careful fidelity of the set, costumes, and

makeup to the show’s time and place, some fun special effects with both lighting and sound,

and director Jeremy Abe’s attention to his cast’s blocking, delivery, timing, and pacing. Can you

feel a “but” coming? Here it is: I really am not thrilled with the script. I know it’s not fair to

expect a lot of depth from any farce, even with a topic as deliciously dark as this one, but 5

Lesbians feels more like a super-sized The Kids in the Hall sketch than a fully realized, two-act

comedy.

Playwrights Evan Linder and Andrew Hobgood begin with a premise ripe for exploration and

exploitation – it’s the annual Quiche Breakfast of the Susan B. Anthony Society for the Sisters of

Gertrude Stein (just in case the title didn’t cue us in on the lesbian angle?). The entire audience

is made part of the club – we have been randomly issued name tags giving us overtly female

identities before we enter the theater, and the cast frequently alludes to our presence as

society members. The five lesbians referred to in the title are, of course, the five actors on a

stage that represents a middle-American community center basement/bomb shelter at the

height of Red scare paranoia in 1956. These are Officially Good Christian Women who are either

heavily closeted or truly unaware that they are lesbians, despite their overt disgust with all

things male and frenetic devotion to all things egg-related. There are definitely lots of laughs,

drawn in large part by fine physical comedy, but by the end of a very brief Act I most of the core

jokes have been trotted out (for the first time, at least).

That said, it’s a fun show to watch - - just keep your literary expectations low and immerse

yourself in the performances. Jenny Tien (“Ginny”) sports a wonderful accent, her

pronunciation of “quiche” is captivatingly inept, and her full-throated/utensil-free attack on the

winning quiche is worth the price of admission. August Wygal (“Dale”) goes from peppy

photographer to trauma-laden hysteric in a smooth arc, and her final incarnation as athletic

hero is oddly hilarious – as is her demise. The real power in the Susan B. Anthony Society is held

by Lulie (the president, played with admirable ferocity by Alicia Turvin), Wren (Brit Eagan, a

twittering dynamo of an events chair), and the overtly butch Vern (Fey Devro), facilities

manager/construction guru who takes no crap from anybody. Each of these power players

helps to drive the utterly implausible script, laden with PBOT-sized plot holes, to the show’s

appropriately illogical conclusion.

From the abundant laughter on opening night, it was clear that the audience was amply

entertained, and sometimes that’s all that’s required. If you need some laughs and a light

evening out (as we all occasionally do) then I definitely recommend 5 Lesbians…just be

prepared for a theatrical snack rather than a hearty meal!

5 Lesbians Eating a Quiche is playing at Twilight’s Performing Arts Theater, 7515 N. Brandon

Avenue, Portland, through February 5 th with performances at 8 pm on Friday and Saturday and

3 pm on Sunday. There is an additional 8 pm performance on Thursday, February 2 nd .