ADRIFT IN MACAO

Gene Chin (Tempura), Danielle Weathers (Corinna), Michael Morrow Hammick
(Mitch), Olivia Shimkus (Daisy and others), Pam Mahon (Lureena), Gary
Wayne Cash (Rick Shaw), and Joey Côté (Joe and others).

By Tina Arth

After a summer of big, beautiful, classic musical theatre, Broadway Rose kicks off its return to the smaller New Stage by offering a quirky, utterly silly show with absolutely no redeeming social value – and I love it! The sets, costumes, lighting, choreography, and music set the stage for an unashamedly campy homage to film noir. Director Isaac Lamb and his cast embrace the genre’s stereotypes with typical Broadway Rose panache and an enthusiastic embrace of the absurd reminiscent of Young Frankenstein, Airplane, or the occasional episode of American Dad!

Christopher Durang (book and lyrics) and Peter Melnick (music) set their little parody in Macao, China circa 1952. The plot is utterly predictable and fundamentally irrelevant – a small group of troubled Caucasians (casino owner Rick Shaw, rival cabaret singers Lureena and Corinna, and the handsome but hard-boiled Mitch) are trying to escape their troubled pasts in a den of iniquity; Mitch seeks to clear himself of an unjust murder charge by locating the mysterious McGuffin. As apparently the lone Asian in the world’s most densely populated city, the pianist Tempura portrays every possible Oriental stereotype with a veneer of subservience thinly covering his simmering hostility.  All’s well that ends well, with everyone back in NYC and the principles paired appropriately.

The first real joke in the show lets the audience in on the fun – after a brief (and, of course, hard-boiled) dockside flirtation, Mitch says “See you around, I hope” and Lureena replies “Well, it’s a small cast.” From there on, we know that they know that we are watching. Even though the fourth wall is only broken a few times, it’s enough to ensure that the stylized and melodramatic performances are perceived from the beginning as intentional parody.

Pam Mahon is absolute dynamite as “Lureena.” Her voice and stage presence are huge – even though the big ballads and bigger production numbers are (as generally expected in parody) quite forgettable, her performance is anything but. As the opium sniffing “Corinna,” Danielle Weathers shifts from drug-addled has-been to fighting tigress with aplomb, and she is perhaps the best physical comedian in the cast.  Casino-owner “Rick” (Gary Wayne Cash) seems to have been overlooked when the authors were handing out the fun roles, but the pseudo-poignant “Rick’s Song” makes it clear that he had been intentionally, rather than inadvertently, overlooked. Michael Morrow Hammack (“Mitch”) is the quintessential antihero – brooding, almost too handsome, with a perfectly trimmed two-day growth of beard to accentuate his chiseled chin. He seems to channel Humphrey Bogart, but with a much, much better singing voice.

Gene Chin (named “Tempura” because he’s been battered by life) gets many of the best lines, and he makes the most of them. Suggest that he is inscrutable, and he stomps his feet and insists that he is utterly scrutable. Chin’s operatic background makes “Tempura’s Song” even funnier – that powerful and lovely voice singing the praises of a “rovely rotus reef” – and his magic disappearing act after the final dockside battle is stunningly devoid of magic. The remaining two characters (Joey Côté and Olivia Shimkus) play a multitude of roles (it is, after all, “a small cast”) – and while Shimkus doesn’t get much chance to really shine, Côté is haplessly wonderful leading the audience in a round of “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.” In fishnet tights he also proves that he, not Chin’s “Tempura,” has the best legs in the cast.

As always, music director Mont Chris Hubbard and his tiny band are flawless, and their placement at the back of the stage ensures that they do not overpower the vocalists. The sets are appropriately cartoonish, and the first scene change (from the docks to the club interior) is breathtakingly efficient. The costumes (especially the women’s) are tastefully over the top, and the Carmen Miranda-like headdresses in the final performances are simply wonderful.

Adrift In Macao is perfect for audiences looking for a little R-rated entertainment – the plot may be predictable, but the strong vocals combined with laughs that often come in unexpected places makes it an evening well-spent.

Adrift in Macao runs at Broadway Rose’s New Stage, 12850 SW Grant Avenue, Tigard through October 25th.

Bag & Baggage’s Best Asks: Have We Really Come a Long Way, Baby?

Arianne Jacques (Gregg), Stephanie Lippert (Brenda), Cassie Greer
(Caroline), Jessi Walters (Mary Agnes), and Joey Copsey (as Mr. Shalimar)

By Tina Arth

We’ve all seen 9 to 5, Mad Men, and countless other dramedies dealing with sexism and gender inequity in the culture of American business. In 2015, can a play (even if written in 2012) based on the absurd sexual politics of the 1950s have anything meaningful to offer, other than cheap laughs and a little head scratching at how stupid everybody used to be? Surely the feminist revolution of the ‘70s fixed all that! This question is answered with a resounding “yes” in the Bag & Baggage production of Rona Jaffe’s The Best of Everything, adapted for the stage by Julie Kramer. Bag & Baggage, already known for its consistent elevation of the status of women, has outdone itself in this profound (and hilarious) production.

The story is based on Jaffe’s bestselling 1958 book, and explores the lives of a group of young secretaries in New York City. It opens as recent Radcliffe grad Caroline is left waiting on the pier by her fiancé, Eddie, who has hitched his wagon to the daughter of a wealthy Texas oilman. Unwilling to go back home in defeat, Caroline takes a secretarial job at Fabian Publishing, where she finds herself surrounded by women whose lack of ambition and stereotypical obsession with snagging a husband at first seems to define them. As the play progresses, the women become more complex, and issues like wage gaps, sexual harassment, marital infidelity, the glass ceiling, abortion, and stalking flesh out these characters’ lives. Ultimately Caroline becomes an editor, while most of the others get the husband/family they sought – but at what price? And then there’s the death of Gregg, the aspiring actress who cannot accept rejection by David, a producer and super-cad who rivals Eddie for the title worst boyfriend/husband material on Earth.

Clearly, the comedy is not inherent in the sometimes-grim plot – but this smartly written play is loaded with ironic one-liners and absurd perspectives that are amplified by Michelle Milne’s direction and her cast’s spectacular use of timing (especially the pregnant pause). Cassie Greer’s “Caroline” is played with an admirably straight face, even when confronted with the ridiculous things she hears from her bosses, former fiancé, and co-workers. Her unflappable acceptance of the most outrageous conduct is terribly funny, but also illustrative of how commonplace this blatant behavior was in the 1950s. Andrew Beck’s alarmingly self-centered “Eddie” is evocative of Cinderella’s Prince – suave, pretentious, condescending, and utterly clueless. Joey Copsey plays the remaining four male roles, and displays a remarkable ability to shift characters at the drop of a hat (or the addition of a cravat), but he relies more on posture and delivery than costuming cues to create the weirdly sympathetic Mike, the elderly lech/boss Mr. Shalimar, the utterly despicable David, and the awkward, stuttering, naïve but sweet Ronnie. Morgan Cox manages her character’s transition from arrogant and amoral ice princess to reluctantly supportive mentor with believable subtlety, and Arianne Jacques’ portrayal of the pathetic stalker “Gregg” is both chilling and heartbreaking.

The staging, sets, and costumes combine to support both the humor and deeper themes of the story. The interchangeable desks create invisible walls, illustrating workplace class distinction and emphasizing the employer’s view that the secretaries are completely interchangeable. Hats become symbols of maleness, and ambitious women don hats as part of the uniform of success – but the hats also are used to show that it is really the men who are soulless cogs in the machine.

So why is The Best of Everything engaging and profound over a half-century after the book’s debut, and several decades after the “sexual revolution” should have made its issues passé? Take a look at the current crop of presidential candidates for a clue. And don’t miss the opportunity to see this wonderful production!

Bag & Baggage’s The Best of Everything runs through September 27^th with performances Thursdays – Saturdays at 7:30 p.m. and Sundays at 2:00 p.m.

Lots To Love In HART’s I Hate Hamlet

Paul Roder ("John Barrymore") and Benjamin Philip (Andrew Rally)

By Tina Arth

Bard lovers, Bard haters, even the Bard-indifferent should all find something to love in HART Theatre’s current production of Paul Rudnick’s I Hate Hamlet. Propelled by a menu of truly memorable one-liners, the show keeps its audience laughing, and at intermission folks seemed eager to get back into the theater (once they had devoured a few fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies) to see what gems the second act held in store.

The show marks Penny Lonergan’s debut as a HART director, and it’s a great start. Solid casting helps – in a six-person show, any weak link really hurts, but Hamlet is devoid of those cringe-worthy moments. With a script as witty as Rudnick’s, poor timing, rushed lines, pregnant pauses followed by mugging or muffled delivery – all would be downright criminal.

The story was new to me, and probably most of the audience. TV actor Andrew Rally arrives in New York City, after a run as lead in a recently cancelled LA-based TV series. Realtor Felicia Dantine has found him an apartment that is everything Andrew hates – a musty, vaguely Gothic brownstone once inhabited by the great John Barrymore. It’s so wrong for a displaced Angeleno in love with the new (an obvious commentary on the contrast between the modern transience of television vs. the lasting traditions of theatah…). Worse yet, agent Lillian Troy (who had a tryst with Barrymore years earlier) has booked him as Hamlet for Shakespeare in the Park – antiquated role, lots of work, no payback in terms of fame or fortune, and burdened with the history of Barrymore’s definitive 1922 Hamlet.  The cast also includes Deirdre McDavey, Andrew’s 25-year-old virgin girlfriend, and an astonishingly shallow LA buddy (producer-director Gary Peter Lefkowitz). A séance (to contact the ghost of Barrymore) that summons the spirit (and corpus) of the Great Man puts the foundation in place. Under Barrymore’s tutelage, Andrew learns to love the role and the apartment; Deirdre learns a thing or two about love, too. Felicia hitches her star to Gary to achieve her dream of being a Beverly Hills realtor, Lillian has one last tender moment with Barrymore before he disappears, and Andrew decides that despite his abysmal acting chops he’ll stay in New York and pursue real theater. Trust me, it’s a lot funnier than it sounds in synopsis!

Kathleen Silloway’s “Lillian” is a curious combination of Teutonic stiffness and romantic fantasy, and she captures this duality nicely in her performance, with bits of melodrama, languor, and carefully timed dry wit. Tamara Sorelli (“Felicia”) uses a mild New York accent to express her character’s shamelessly mercenary bent; I appreciate her restraint in allowing the script to drive the comedy, rather than chasing laughs with overacting. Les Ico (“Gary”) nobly represents all that is most despicable about Hollywood; he unselfconsciously dismisses all live theatre, especially Shakespeare, as “Algebra on stage”. Emma Heesacker (as the virginal “Deirdre”) has the least to work with – ingénues rarely get the best material – but when she is allowed to loosen up in Act II (post-Barrymore) she and the audience have a lot of fun with the role.

Benjamin Philip’s “Andrew” is funniest when playing off the Ghost of Barrymore (Paul Roder). His attempt to update Prince Hamlet with a sort of Valley Girl method acting is simply hilarious – he is at his best when acting like he’s overacting, and his final bow is a thing of beauty. Roder bears little physical resemblance to Barrymore, and his tights and tunic do little to add to his stature, but he very quickly melds himself with the larger than life character he portrays. His voice, timing, movement and projection make the most of a powerful (and powerfully funny) role, and the swordfight with Philip is played to the hilt.

Eric and Penny Lonergan’s set is lovely – appropriately elegant, Gothic, and thoroughly functional. Karen Roder and seamstress Pat Hill provide imaginative and evocative costumes, and Heather Sutherland’s lighting design is key in setting and changing the show’s moods.

It’s always risky to tackle a show that is a bit obscure, but the combination of a tightly crafted comic script and skillful production should make this gamble a winner for HART and local audiences.

I Hate Hamlet plays at Hillsboro Artists’ Regional Theatre (HART) through Sunday, September 20th, with performances Friday and Saturday at 7:30 p.m. and Sunday matinees at 2:00 p.m.

Singin’ In the Rain A Real Coup For Mask & Mirror

Blake Isaac (Don) and Amelia Morgan-Rothschild (Kathy)
Al Stewart Photography, Tualatin

By Tina Arth

When Mask & Mirror Community Theatre announced that the first “Tualatin Community Musical” would be Singin’ In the Rain I was not alone in wondering what kind of absurd hubris led this tiny group of theater lovers, whose previous shows had been in a church rec room, to believe they could pull off a show this complex – and with a live orchestra! Audience expectations could run very high, as it is arguably Comden and Green’s best screenplay, and the musical that defined Gene Kelly’s song-and-dance persona for millions of fans. Friday night’s opening proved all naysayers wrong – the show is delightful! Credit is due first to Director Sandy Libonati, who managed to assemble the acting and production talent necessary for an enterprise of this scope. The secret is at least in part that it is truly a “community musical” – the program reveals a broad range of support from the Tigard/Tualatin communities, other theater groups, the school district, and individuals and businesses from all around the metro area.

Singin’ In the Rain revolves around a glamorous silent film couple, Don Lockwood and Lina Lamont, whose careers are in jeopardy with the advent of talking pictures. As a former song and dance man, Don is well equipped to make the switch to talkies, but Lina can neither act nor sing, and her harshly nasal New York accent is a disaster on tape. Despite the public perception that they are an “item,” Don cannot stand Lina in real life. Don’s sidekick Cosmo Brown convinces the studio to hire a stand-in to dub Lina’s lines for her - Don’s real girlfriend, chorus girl Kathy Selden. This does not go over well with Lina, who is ultimately disgraced when the deception is revealed. Lina rushes off in embarrassment, Don and Kathy kiss, and things work out just the way they should – a very 1950’s Hollywood ending!

Taylor Libonati (Cosmo) - on the board.
Al Stewart Photography, Tualatin

The four leads really make the evening worthwhile. Jessica Jaeger (Lina Lamont) does a wonderful job of sublimating her beautiful voice in service of Lina’s dissonant delivery, and her solo “What’s Wrong With Me” is the funniest song in the show. Taylor Libonati (Cosmo Brown) has a solid voice, and his dancing simply sparkles. He’s exciting to watch with his mid-air splits, tapping on an elevated two by four, and leaping on and rolling over his cast mates’ bodies. For me, his finest moment is when he pulls off Donald O’Connor’s famous backwards somersault off the wall – it more than compensates for an otherwise inexplicable scene change! Blake Isaac (Don Lockwood) is also a fine dancer, and his solid baritone is perfect to sell amazing songs like “You Were Meant for Me,” and, of course, “Singin’ In the Rain.” His mixture of sincerity and nonchalance precisely captures Lockwood’s character. However, the real shining star is Amelia Morgan-Rothschild (Kathy Selden) – a part often relegated to sweet, pretty girls with nice voices (think Debbie Reynolds in the movie), but rarely to actresses as incredibly cute, smart, and serious as Morgan-Rothschild. She holds her own in the dance numbers, but it is her beautiful soprano (with just a touch of controlled vibrato) that makes numbers like “You Are My Lucky Star” and “Would You” real showstoppers.

The supporting cast is huge and versatile – with rapid changes of costume, several characters play three or four parts. Ensemble vocals are generally tight, but some of the larger dance numbers could use a bit more precision.  Triple kudos to costume designer Viola Pruitt and her assistants for pulling together more than 200 lavish and period-appropriate costumes! An orchestra pit would be nice – the music is occasionally a bit overpowering (especially the trombones) and it was my bad luck to be seated right in back of conductor Sam Talluto, who efficiently if inadvertently blocked my view of several key moments. The show runs long, and would have benefited from some condensation of the scene changes (especially because of the cute and lively pre-show and intermission student dance performances). However, clever staging and some nice video work keep the evening moving along pretty well.

With a lot of vision and little help from their friends, Mask & Mirror is offering a genuinely entertaining evening of musical theatre. The show only runs one more weekend, so get your tickets early!

Singin’ In the Rain is playing at the Tualatin High School auditorium through Sunday, August 23d with performances at 7 pm Friday and Saturday, 2 pm on Sunday.

Broadway Rose’s Oklahoma Climbs Clear Up To The Sky!

By Tina Arth

Almost fifty years ago, a high school sophomore ambled onto the stage at the San Gabriel Playhouse and sang “There’s a bright golden haze on the meadow...” and for me, it was the beginning of a lifelong love affair – not with the actor, but with the show. The current Broadway Rose production of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s sweeping epic Oklahoma reminds me of why this beautiful musical captured and has held my heart for half a century.

The setting, and the sets, of Oklahoma evoke an image of a golden time in American history when everything seemed possible, when people willing to take risks, work hard, and look out for their neighbors could be rewarded with a secure and happy future for themselves and their families. Of course there is much mythology in the image – one has to suspend for a couple of hours one’s 21^st century sensibilities to environmental destruction and the oppression of indigenous people (not that there are any in the show – but the “open” land was not ceded voluntarily by the Five Civilized Tribes!). Oklahoma is a show about dreams – of freedom to plant crops, raise cattle, and build a community, of a surrey pulled by snow-white horses, of skyscrapers in Kansas City, of exotic truths emerging from a peddler’s smelling salts – and some of the show’s biggest songs pull the audience like a tractor beam right into the magic.

When it comes to Broadway style musicals, few local theatre companies can even hope to compete with Broadway Rose’s big summer productions. Director Sharon Maroney’s experienced hand ensures that the Oklahoma audience will see and hear a consistently professional, first-class show – elaborate and evocative sets, effective lighting, superb leads and vocal ensemble, crisp choreography, and an orchestra to die for.

Jared Miller (“Curly”) and Dru Rutledge (“Laurey”) bring years of training and experience to their roles. Their voices blend beautifully, and “People Will Say We’re In Love” is a simply breathtaking duet. If anything, they are a bit too good – it can be hard to reconcile their clear and flawless voices with the earthy pioneer and cowboy they portray. My personal pick for best performance goes to Megan Carver, whose “Ado Annie” somehow manages to be both naïve and experienced, a free-thinking inadvertent feminist with a simple sexuality that sells “I Cain’t Say No!” as a comic masterpiece. Another standout is Colin Wood (“Jud Fry”) who manages to convey a little of the pathos of his role as perennial underdog without losing his character’s menacing foundation.  The strength of the ensemble is eye opening in “Many a New Day” – the solos by several of the “girls” clearly show voices and attitudes that would do credit to lead roles in any big musical, and there are places where the female vocal ensemble has an almost Disney-like clarity and musicality.

Special recognition must go to choreographer Maria Tucker for the “Dream Sequence” – the dark ballet of Laurey’s nightmare often comes across as a jarringly psychedelic intrusion from a bad horror movie, but Tucker’s ballet is a more balanced blend of beauty and violence. Props for restraint also are due to Brynne Oster-Bainnson, whose costume design is refreshingly subdued, reflecting the earth tones and homespun fabrics that would have been available to the people of the frontier.

Once again, Broadway Rose has shown that they know their audience by delivering a beautiful production of a true classic, and the reward is the enthusiastic response of a truly appreciative public.

Broadway Rose’s Oklahoma runs through August 23d at Tigard High School’s Deb Fennell Auditorium.

Bye Bye Birdie C.A.S.T. Brings Youth Favorite to Forest Grove



Jeremiah Stephens (Albert) and Breanna Grimes (Rosie).
Photo by  Becca Cooper of "Portraits by Becca."

 

By Tina Arth

 

How do you turn a generation of tiny-screen texters into a legion of live-theatre lovers? Get them on stage having real, face-to-face fun – or at least put them into the audience of a live show! Theatre in the Grove’s remarkable Children’s After School Theatre (C.A.S.T.) program is working its magic again in 2015 with an ambitious production, the Young Performer’s Edition of the classic Bye Bye Birdie. Participation in the C.A.S.T. summer teen production provides an educational opportunity for all registrants, free of charge, to be on stage or to work backstage at a fully staged musical. To expand the program’s reach, the shows are priced at only $5.00 general admission – a great deal for families looking for an inexpensive and wholesome way to introduce kids to the wonders of theatre.

 
Like the more well-known “Jr.” shows, the Young Performer’s Edition of Birdie is condensed and, where appropriate, cleaned up a bit for younger audiences. The show is performed in one act, with minimal sets and prerecorded music to keep the production costs modest. Guided by Jeanna Van Dyke and Adam Borrego, in only 8 (very long) days of rehearsal, the cast of 34 (plus stage hands and techs) put together a lively and entertaining version of the 1960 musical loosely based on the furor surrounding Elvis Presley’s 1957 induction into the U.S. Army. It may not be perfect, but it is definitely fun.

The fictional rock star and teen idol Conrad Birdie has been drafted, and his mama’s boy manager Albert Peterson (pushed by his secretary/girlfriend Rose Alvarez) is trying to cash in on his departure with a huge publicity stunt. Conrad will go to Sweet Water, Ohio to bestow “One Last Kiss” on local fan club president Kim MacAfee. Kim’s starry-eyed friends, bratty little brother, frustrated dad, and jealous boyfriend ensure that the plan will go awry, as it does when 15 year old Kim goes off to a local makeout spot, The Ice House, with bad boy Conrad. Of course everything works out fine – Kim is reunited with boyfriend Hugo, Conrad is shipped off to the Army, and Albert’s interfering uber-momma Mae Peterson is tricked into boarding a train for New York. Meanwhile, Albert and Rosie head off to get married in Pumpkin Falls, Iowa, far from Mae’s grasping histrionics.

The show has some notable strengths, including the vocal and dance ensemble, which are amazingly coherent given the timeline and the open casting – clearly, Van Dyke and Borrego have worked hard with their cast, and clearly the performers have repaid their efforts with real dedication. Breanna Grimes (“Rosie”) and Jeremiah Stephens (“Albert”) are true professionals – even better this year than they were in last summer’s Into the Woods. I wish that the condensed version had retained “Spanish Rose” – I would have loved to see what Grimes could have done with it! Ian Romig (“Hugo”) has a refreshing take on the role – more mature and much less whiny than the average “Hugo.” Athena Van Dyke (“Kim”) is charming, and physically perfect for the role. However, I found myself wishing the part were written for an alto, as she has to fight for some of the higher notes. Van Dyke’s lovely voice comes through best in ensemble numbers where she can stay within her comfortable range.  Parker Loughmiller (“Conrad”) is obviously having a lot of fun with the role, and he has mastered the timing and attitude essential to a dissipated rock legend.

It’s tough to imagine any group that deserves community support more than TITG’s C.A.S.T. program. It’s fun, educational, and a truly egalitarian effort to expose today’s students to the dramatic arts. On top of that, in the dog days of August it’s hard to beat almost two hours of lively performance in an air-conditioned theater for $5.00!

Bye Bye Birdie plays at Forest Grove’s Theatre in the Grove, 2028 Pacific Avenue, through Sunday, August 16^th with performances at 7:30 on Friday and Saturday and 2:30 on Sunday.

The Lighter Side of RICHARD III

Eric Nepom as the Duke of Buckingham, Gary Strong as the Bishop of Ely, and
Peter Schuyler as King Richard, photo courtesy of Casey Campbell Photography

By Tina Arth 

Scott Palmer, Artistic Director of Hillsboro’s Bag  & Baggage, is notorious for his irreverent interpretations of Shakespeare’s hallowed output – but this summer’s plein air cartoon version of the (usually) dark and violent Richard III scales new heights of cheerful absurdity. I had read enough of the copious pre-production press to be expecting a dose of Monty Python colored with a hint of Three Stooges, but was caught off guard by (“wait for it…”) a soupçon of Barney Stinson in the mix.

Like many of Shakespeare’s works, Richard III as originally written is a bit too complex and dreary, and way too long, for some theater goers unless it simultaneously fulfills a course requirement in an English Lit class. Once Palmerized, however, it is not only tolerable, it’s actually entertaining – the lofty Shakespearean language combined with admirably low comedy (and the occasional severed head) yields a remarkably funny amalgam that keeps the audience alert and engaged throughout. Two time-honored clichés (“Now is the winter of our discontent” and “My kingdom for a horse!”) at the beginning and end of the show are a jarring reminder to the audience that we are seeing real Shakespeare stuff, no matter how dramatically altered the lens through which it is viewed.

Even as simplified by Palmer, the story itself is a bit convoluted (much like the actual history on which it is based). Luckily for the audience, all is made clear by the witty and thoroughly diverting backdrop, a graffiti-bedecked sheet that succinctly summarizes the era’s history with crude org charts, a hangman’s noose, and pithy phrases like “some other Henry” and “King = me”. The backdrop does double duty, for in addition to offering a much-abridged version of the tale it also hides the Tower of London’s unseen, but often heard, unkindness of ravens (although, given the story, perhaps the less common “conspiracy of ravens” would be more appropriate).

With the wrong cast, Palmer’s adaptation could be puerile – but the five Bag & Baggage company members and an equal number of newcomers pull off the show’s 18 roles with impressive versatility, sliding smoothly between slapstick and intense emotion. Peter Schuyler plays Richard as a murderous scamp who happily shares his somewhat distorted worldview with the audience in frequent asides – we are supposed to like him, and we do. Cassie Greer pulls off Lady Anne’s ditzy affect (and spectacular headgear) quite nicely, but her finest (long…) moment is when, as the Duchess of York, she storms off stage left – her tiny mincing steps as she s-l-o-w-l-y propels her walker across the seemingly endless steps of the Civic Center Plaza. It is a credit to the cast that they even try to keep the action going while the audience’s attention keeps shifting to Greer’s agonizing exit.

Sam Jones as Lord Rivers and Peter Schuyler as  King Richard,photo courtesy
of Casey Campbell Photography

With the aid of Melissa Heller’s colorful and flamboyant costumes (and a gargantuan wig) Gary Strong has way too much fun in his dual roles as Queen Margaret and the Bishop of Ely.  However, the best hair award must go to a newcomer, the impossibly lanky Sam Jones, who rocks Lord Rivers’ flowing tresses with a campy feminine mystique as he prances around the set figuratively (and sometimes literally) throwing himself into the action.

Shakespeare aficionados should love Bag & Baggage’s production for the same reasons that Universal Monster fans love “Young Frankenstein” – knowing the content and conventions makes the shtick even funnier. For the rest of us, Richard III is a fine way to introduce one of Shakespeare’s longer and bloodier dramas in an accessible, charming, and abbreviated format that sneaks a touch of high culture into an evening of laughter.

Bag & Baggage’s production of Richard III runs Wednesday – Saturday through August 1^st with shows at 7:30 p.m. All performances are held at the Tom Hughes Civic Center Plaza, 150 E. Main Street, Hillsboro. Please bring your own chair – no seating is provided!