Broadway Rose’s Latest Light Fun? This is Most Certainly True!

By Tina Arth

Maybe someday the world will be ready for a wry but gentle musical about Islam, but for now we’ll have to settle for loving parodies of the foibles of Catholics, Protestants, and Jews. Broadway Rose’s current production of The Church Basement Ladies is a classic example of the genre – warm, nostalgic, cheerful, and utterly harmless. What it lacks in substance it makes up for in unabashed enthusiasm (expressed through the actors, musical direction, and set) for a time, place, and people who define our image of both the strength and kitschiness of traditional American religion (in this case, Garrison Keillor’s much-loved Minnesota Lutherans).

The show is set entirely in the basement kitchen of a 1960s era rural Lutheran church, and cast only with the pastor and four women who prepare the food for church special events and slowly learn to deal with large and small changes on the horizon as the decade unfolds. Whether it’s changing the color of the hymnals (just plain wrong), the pastor’s young new wife who offers vegetarian lasagna for a church dinner (gasp!), or the teen daughter who may be dating a Catholic (oh, the horror!) the basement ladies bear up bravely, if not silently, under the assaults on their sacred ways. Pastor Gunderson, Mavis, Vivian, Karin, and Karin’s daughter Signe sing and dance their way through Christmas dinner, a funeral, a Hawaiian-themed Easter fundraiser, and finally Signe’s wedding (thankfully, to Handsome Harry, not to the Catholic boy).

While the show is amusing, and evokes a nice warm glow of nostalgia (probably stronger for Lutherans), the songs are not terribly memorable and it’s thematically thin. However, none of this matters – it’s Broadway Rose, and the quality of the performances ensures that the audience is treated to a spectacular two-hour concert by five wonderful vocalists. The solos sparkle, but it’s the harmonies that make the evening – mostly smooth and rich, but with occasional flights of spine-tingling inventiveness.

Matthew Belles (Pastor Gunderson) is a solid singer and actor, but mostly takes a back seat to the ladies. However, the emotional (by Lutheran standards) scene where he writes a eulogy for the beloved Willie the handyman provides one of the show’s most touching moments. Lori Paschall (Vivian), Debbie Hunter (Karin), and Zoe Randol (Signe) bring bite and warmth to their intergenerational tension. Paschall plays the crusty and seemingly immovable traditionalist to the hilt in her paranoid “The Cities,” but like Belles she gets a real moment in the scene where Vivian comforts Signe, the terrified bride to be. Paschall’s role as the aging, self-appointed doyenne of the synod might have been clearer if she had worn a white wig – it was not immediately obvious that she was supposed to be much older than the other women. Debbie Hunter (Karin) displays a nice combination of subservience and spunk as she wrestles with Paschall for a voice in the management of the kitchen, and it is Hunter’s voice that really sells some of the otherwise forgettable songs. Zoe Randol (Signe) has inherited her “mother’s” backbone – she is calm but firm as she stands up for her bold decisions to associate with a Catholic, go to college in the sin-rife Twin Cities, and listen to the Beatles.  Her ultimate marriage to a nice local (Lutheran) boy is a bit of a disappointment for the rebel in me, but she offers some stunning harmonies and displays the best dance moves in the cast, so I forgive her for that one lapse.

I first saw Kymberli Colbourne a few months ago playing Captain Ahab in Moby Dick, Rehearsed. Nothing in that impressive performance prepared me for Mavis – the ultimate farmwife with a sunny disposition, ready to tackle any challenge without complaint. Colbourne’s fine-tuned and fearless grasp of physical comedy makes her hot-flashes (first seen in the truly funny “My Own Personal Island”) a motif as powerful and oft repeated as the great Lutheran cliché, “This is most certainly true.” Whether she’s opening a stuck door, cooling herself in the freezer, or clambering to open a window in sub-zero temperatures Colbourne puts it all out there, and it works.

The sixth “cast” member is the set itself – a detailed, fully equipped room with great props, it captures every detail of a church kitchen.  In this show, butter holds a place of singular honor, each apron carries its own subtle message, and the knives, pans, tables and appliances almost come to life as they interact with the human cast (especially the dancing butter rolls).

Last, but not least, music director/keyboard player Jeffrey Childs is the unseen hero of the show.  He has molded a talented cast into a finely tuned and sometimes exciting vocal ensemble, and the music from his single keyboard is so full that my companion had to point out to me that he was working alone.

“Church Basement Ladies” is playing at the Broadway Rose New Stage Theater, 12850 SW Grant Avenue, Tigard through Sunday, May 15th with performances at 7:30 pm on Thursday, Friday and Saturday and 2:00 pm matinees on Saturday and Sunday. An additional performance will be held at 7:30 pm on Wednesday, May 11.

Dark Comedy Lights Up the Stage at Theatre in the Grove

Masha (Jodi Coffman) and Vanya (Aaron Morrow)

By Tina Arth

Anton Chekhov is inarguably one of the key figures of 19^th century realism in theater, and it is a bit of an understatement to say that his worldview was not perky. Although told it was dark comedy, I was expecting something pretty gloomy when I walked into Theatre in the Grove for the opening night production of playwright Christopher Durang’s Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike and saw a stunningly detailed set reminiscent of the home in TITG’s 2014 production August in Osage County (also not exactly a theatrical funfest).  I walked out a few hours later with my fears assuaged, thoroughly entertained and utterly charmed. Director Zachary Centers and his cast do a fine job of capturing the often-gentle humor of Durang’s Chekhovian send-up, and show surprising restraint even when dealing with the broader comedic elements of the play.

The story centers on three siblings, all named after Chekhov characters by their theater-loving parents; in middle age, the three are still doing a great job of embodying the despair and ennui of their namesakes. Vanya and Sonia live completely unproductive lives in their childhood home, which is owned by jet-setting sister Masha, an international screen star (courtesy of her roles in the “Sexy Killer” film franchise).  Masha arrives at the homestead with her new boy toy Spike, intent on selling the property (thus leaving her siblings with no home in which to park their empty existence). A constant sense of impending doom is reinforced by the hysterical ravings of Cassandra, the cleaning lady/local prophetess. While most of Cassandra’s dire predictions are literally fulfilled, disaster is averted as the key characters find their authentic voices along with the courage to deal with the setbacks.  Oh, and it’s really, really funny.

Aaron Morrow (Vanya) is a newcomer to TITG, but will be familiar to many from performances all over Washington County and beyond in other community theater productions – frequently as a goofball, a drunk, or a drunken goofball. Morrow and director Centers have worked together to create a very different actor – witty, wry, and controlled in a huge role. Even his funniest moments, like the rant about change and his overt lusting after the hunky Spike, are played with careful timing that project both Vanya’s intelligence and Morrow’s. As Sonia, Pruella Centers is neurotic, insecure, and wonderfully mercurial – she shifts fluidly from raging angst to self-pity to almost catatonic calm, and neither the audience nor Vanya knows which Sonia will emerge next. Jodi Coffman plays Masha as the consummate actress who no longer seems to have a character of her own – she is every insecure, vain, self-absorbed and dissatisfied screen queen ever imagined – and Coffman plays it to the hilt.

Andy Roberts has a great deal of fun as boy toy Spike – his reverse strip tease is flamboyantly athletic and carefully costumed for maximum effect.  Wendy Harris Bax doesn’t just play the role of Cassandra, she attacks it, and her scene with the voodoo doll is beyond hilarious. The final character, Nina (Rachel May) is a young, beautiful aspiring actress who radiates naivety from every pore. May is sweetly innocent as an ingénue, but it is her performance as a molecule (simulating a hedgehog, a porpoise, a spider, and a host of other creatures) that allows her to display a remarkable talent for physical comedy.

Theatre in the Grove strikes a fine balance between traditional community theater fare and the truly unexpected; Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike definitely falls into the latter category. The range of humor and cultural references is broad and layered, so familiarity with Chekhov, while helpful, is by no means prerequisite to enjoying the play.  Parental discretion is advised, as there are mature themes and language.

Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike plays at Theatre in the Grove, 2028 Pacific Avenue, Forest Grove through May 1 with performances at 7:30 pm on Fridays and Saturdays and matinees at 2:30 pm on Sundays.

Aggle Flaggle Klabble? Not This Knuffle Bunny!

Pictured is Richard Cohn-Lee ("Dad"), Kayla Hughes ("Mom"), and Michaela Warren ("Trixie")

By Tina Arth

Beaverton Civic Theatre is reaching out to a whole new demographic with their latest production, Mo Willems’ Knuffle Bunny: A Cautionary Musical. Since the Knuffle Bunny books emerged well after my active parenting days, I rounded up an eight-year-old neighbor to accompany me to the show and to share some age-appropriate insight. She is a smart, well-behaved kid and definitely great company for this adventure – but sadly, she doesn’t seem to have the makings of a theater critic. When I asked her after the show what she thought were the best things and what things could have been better, she happily informed me that she loved everything! When pressed, she did confess that it would have been nice if the part of Trixie (the central character) had been played by someone much younger – but since it’s a huge role and Trixie is supposed to be about 18 months old, we agreed that no actual baby could have handled the job!

For those of you new to the world of Knuffle Bunny, here’s the skinny: Dad and Mom are parents to Trixie, a stunningly lively toddler who has an extensive and colorful baby talk vocabulary, but hasn’t quite mastered expression in English. She adores Knuffle Bunny, her stuffed toy, and is desolate when separated from the rabbit. Dad (inept, as dads often are in children’s stories) resolves to take Trixie to the laundromat, and give Mom a few hours of peace and quiet. While at the laundromat, Knuffle Bunny is accidentally put in with the dirty clothes; when Trixie discovers that her toy is missing she is inconsolable, incessantly screaming “Aggle Flaggle Klabble” but unable to explain to Dad what is upsetting her. Mom, of course, saves the day. When the traumatized dad/daughter get home, Mom immediately sees the problem and asks (repeatedly) “Where is Knuffle Bunny?” Once Dad calms down enough to actually hear the question, he knows at once! They rush back to the laundromat, Dad bravely throws himself into the washer and after a Herculean struggle with panties, bras, socks, etc. he emerges from battle victoriously clutching the errant bunny. Overjoyed, Trixie yells “Knuffle Bunny” – her first actual words!

Richard Cohn-Lee (“Dad”) struck me at first as ridiculously over-the-top. However, a few minutes in it struck me: he is not just playing a role, he’s playing it in the exaggerated style a parent uses to bring life to a funny story when reading to a young child. The reaction of the kids in the audience makes it clear that he is hitting exactly the right note. In response to his panicked “where did Trixie go?” a little girl in front of me pointed stage right and cried out “that way!” When he chases after Trixie in the aisles, kids all around the theater crane their necks to catch every slapstick moment.  He is particularly funny when he envisions himself as a rock star, playing air guitar like Pete Townsend on steroids, but he manages to rein it in and express genuine emotion in the touching “Really, Really Love You.”

Kayla Hughes (“Mom”) is the show’s straight man, and she does a fine job of portraying the long-suffering, exhausted, but super-competent parent. She has a lovely voice that is occasionally drowned out by the music track – something that can be easily fixed with a little modulation in the sound booth. 

The real star (other than the bunny, of course) is Michaela Warren as “Trixie.” This is an amazingly demanding role for a young girl, and she simply nails it – I expect to see her time and again in local theater productions! A sparkling moment in her performance is the poignant “Aggle Flaggle Klabble,” a song composed entirely of nonsense syllables that nonetheless expresses her complete despair at having lost her beloved Knuffle Bunny. I am in awe of her ability to learn the hundreds of lines, when only the final moments of the show allow her to speak English!

As is appropriate for a children’s storybook, the set is minimal. A few large cubes double as planters and washing machines (Cohn-Lee’s foes in the heart-pounding rescue scene and props for the hysterical antics and vocals of the laundromat chorus).

Director Melissa Riley and Music Director Beth Noelle are bringing something new and wonderful to Beaverton Civic’s repertoire – theater appropriate and captivating for even the youngest audiences. The family-friendly nature of the show is enhanced by the $5.00 ticket price, and the single act runs less than an hour, so kiddos with short attention spans don’t have time to get restless (or need to use the bathroom!). This is a “can’t miss” show for parents or grandparents of young children, and with only a two-week run tickets are selling fast!

Beaverton Civic Theatre’s production of Knuffle Bunny: A Cautionary Musical has three performances on Saturday, April 16^th with shows at 11:00 am, 1:00 pm, and 3:00 pm at the Beaverton City Library Auditorium.

TWILIGHT’S FINE TWILIGHT

Danyelle Tinker ("Suzanne") and Jason A. England ("David"). Photo by Garry Bastian photography.

By Tina Arth

Jonathan Tolins’ hard-hitting tragicomedy, Twilight of the Golds, opened in 1993 – the same year that Seinfeld fans made the phrase “not that there’s anything wrong with that” a cultural icon. These are not unrelated phenomena, as the play explicitly revolves around a Jewish family in New York dealing with issues of tolerance and homosexuality. However, the play’s slightly futuristic and sci-fi flavor allows (actually, requires) the audience to view both gayness and genetic research as metaphors for a much broader set of ethical and moral questions. Twilight Theater Company director Ronald Jorgensen and his mighty five-person cast present a carefully paced show that fluctuates between stereotypical (but terribly funny) humor and gut-wrenching emotional expression.

Suzanne Gold-Stein and husband Rob Stein are celebrating their third anniversary with her very close, very loving family – parents Phyllis and Walter and her obviously gay, but only occasionally campy brother David. Suzanne waits until the family is together to announce that she is pregnant. Genetic researcher Rob reveals that his employer may be willing to do an experimental amniocentesis and DNA analysis of the fetus, just to make sure nothing is wrong. Here’s where the sci-fi aspect emerges, as the test results come in: the baby is fine, but is 90% likely to be “like David” (i.e., gay). The story then revolves around the family’s reaction, and in particular the possibility that Suzanne might choose to abort the baby. How does a relatively liberal Jewish family with a much-loved gay son/brother feel about this, particularly in 1993, the year that U.S. AIDS diagnoses peaked? How do they reconcile an intuitive aversion to eugenics, especially powerful in any post-WW II Jewish family, with a woman’s right to choose?

Given that issues of nature vs. nurture and genetics research even in 2016 render the 90% “like David” diagnosis utterly implausible, one can (but should not) dismiss the plot as naïve and irrelevant. It’s not a huge stretch, after all, to expand the conversation to include transgender identity, autism, and other “defects” that are not necessarily predictive of extreme suffering or devastating illness.  Leaving legal issues out of the equation, what are the moral implications of terminating a pregnancy, not because the family or woman is unable or unwilling to raise a baby but because they don’t want to raise this baby? Can we assume that a gay, or black, or transgender, or autistic, or even female adult is by definition disadvantaged and would be better off with the more culturally powerful status of straight, white, “normal” male?

For the story to work, we need to believe that the Golds are inherently likeable, good-hearted people – people a lot like us. This is where Twilight of the Golds really sparkles. Jodi Rafkin (Phyllis) creates a perfect Jewish mother – over-the-top warm, intensely involved and lovingly manipulative toward both of her offspring. She controls her accent and delivery so that the humor and pathos come through without a hint of parody. Chandano Fuller (Walter) captures the contradictions of his role – apparently self-centered, clearly used to being the alpha male, but revealing his doting father side by secretly doling out cash to his kids and by refusing to kvetch about their choices. Danyelle Tinker (Suzanne) and Jason A. England (David) have great chemistry as the closely bonded sister and brother who seem to be unquestionably accepting of the others’ faults – the bitter poignancy of their ultimate disagreement is testimony to their believability. The only character we don’t need to love is Rob, and William Ferguson does a fine balancing act – part cold scientist, part emotional outcast because he will never really penetrate the loving shell around the nuclear Gold family.

With the IKEA-feel of the Gold-Stein apartment and a few kitschy touches in the Gold’s dining room, JJ Abrams sketches the yuppie design of the era. Robin Pair’s lighting design eliminates the need for scene changes and keeps the action flowing, and his special effects (in combination with Ilana Watson’s sound design) create brief but striking operatic interludes.  I was especially struck by the subtly appropriate costumes – small touches like ‘90s appropriate pantyhose, Phyllis’ bouffant hairdo, and that tiny Izod alligator helped me to absorb the action from the perspective of the era.

Because of mature themes and language, Twilight of the Golds is not appropriate for younger audiences. Beyond that, I would enthusiastically recommend that local audiences take advantage of the opportunity to see this rarely produced, powerful, funny, thought-provoking show.

Twilight Theater Company’s production of Twilight of the Golds is playing at the Performing Arts Theater, 7515 N. Brandon Avenue, Portland through Saturday, April 16^th with performances at 8 P.M. Thursday, Friday and Saturday and Sunday matinees at 3 P.M.

Becky’s New Car Crashes Through HART’s Fourth Wall

Bryan Luttrell, Karen Huckfeldt, Carl Dahlquist, Paul Roder, David Roberts, and Patti Speight. Photo by Nicole Mae Photography.

By Tina Arth

HART Theatre’s latest offering, Becky’s New Car, asks a question rarely addressed in theater (but all too often encountered in real life): how should we react when a good person does a bad thing? Does the good person become a bad person? Does the bad thing become OK? Or do we just roll with clichés like “nobody’s perfect” and get on with our lives? Director Dorinda Toner and her cast have a great deal of fun delving into playwright Steven Dietz’s script and milking it for both its comedic and philosophical richness.

The story is convoluted and implausible, rife with stereotypes and characters whose quirks and neuroses would seem way over-the-top in a more conventional production. The show’s salvation is twofold: first, there are lots of just plain funny lines (“so there you have it – my son was loaded and the dishwasher was not”). Second, the show is self-consciously theatrical, with no pretense at maintaining the “fourth wall.” As the audience is actively incorporated into the show at several points, we are insiders rather than spectators, engaged with the cast and relieved of the burden to suspend disbelief.

Middle aged, middle class Becky is having an “is that all there is?” moment, fed up with her roles as office manager at the auto dealership and chief cook and bottle washer at home. Husband Joe is a hard-working roofer, steady and loyal but taciturn to a fault, and uncomfortable with sharing his feelings – as he says, “I’m a roofer. I cover things up.” Son Chris, a twenty-something psychology grad student, lives in the family basement and expresses himself only in pretentious psychobabble while driving his mother crazy with his slovenly habits and self-absorption.

Late one night at the dealership, in charges multimillionaire Walter Flood, a socially inept widower who suddenly sees Becky as the pathway out of his grief.  A comedy of errors follows – Walter thinks Becky is a widow, and relentlessly pursues her.  Becky never quite gets around to correcting Walter’s mistake. She begins a secret double life on Walter’s remote island estate that cannot possibly last. When Joe, Walter, Chris, and Walter’s daughter Kenni discover Becky’s duplicity, chaos naturally ensues.

Patti Speight is brilliant as Becky – outgoing, scattered, and so darned likeable that we just can’t be mad about her tangled web. She’s dead wrong in her prediction that the audience will end up liking her less than husband Joe (David Roberts), although he’s a pretty sympathetic character too. Roberts is definitely at his best in Act 2, when things get serious and we see a bit of the impassioned man beneath the shell. Carl Dalhquist (“Chris”) is annoyingly funny in Act 1, but has the most impact when he loses it – like Roberts, Dahlquist sheds his composure in the second act, moving from smug observer to an emotionally engaged participant in his own life. The other key performance is Bryan Luttrell’s “Walter.” It can’t be easy to be that befuddled, clueless, and harmless while playing the role of the other man, but Luttrell pulls it off. It helps that there is so little sexual chemistry between Becky and Walter that the audience is not forced to imagine them in the throes of an affair.

The set is simple, in keeping with the surrealism of the script. Becky’s office and living room share the stage with Walter’s terrace, and two chairs serve as Becky’s car(s). Lighting, with some cues called out by the cast, directs the audience’s attention to the right zone. This adds up to zero time lost to scene changes – always a plus!

Director Toner has assembled a fine ensemble cast and given them the space they need to express both the comic and more serious elements of this unusual show. It is safe to say that first-time audiences cannot be prepared for everything they will see – and it’s a show that may well merit a second visit to catch nuances missed the first time around.

Becky’s New Car is playing at the HART Theatre, 185 SE Washington, Hillsboro through April 3, with performances at 7:30 on Fridays and Saturdays and 2:00 on Sundays.

A GREAT WHITE WHALE SWAMPS THE VENETIAN

Joey Copsey, Jessi Walters, Kymberli Colbourne, Peter Schuyler, Arianne
Jacques, Eric St. Cyr. Photo by Casey Campbell.

By Tina Arth

In the proud tradition of generations of English majors, I always hated Moby-Dick, Herman Melville’s massive 19^th century whaling novel. I had no opinion at all about Orson Welles – he wasn’t in the syllabus, and I never really got the fuss about Citizen Kane. Thus I walked into the Venetian Theatre for opening night of Moby-Dick, Rehearsed, expecting a well-staged, well-acted, well-directed (it is, after all, Bag & Baggage) evening of wordy pretentiousness with a few gems of real story buried in a mass of ponderous blubber. I was dead right on the first three counts, but amazed to be completely wrong about the last part. Welles’ adaptation for the stage may not be everybody’s cup of krill, but it provided me with a couple of hours (barely enough time to get through Chapter 1 in the book) of challenging, moving, sometimes fun theater.

To understand the play, it helps to have a basic grasp of the Moby-Dick story (from the novel, the 1956 movie, or one of several subsequent film versions). An unconscionably abridged version for the uninitiated: in mid-19^th century Massachusetts, the whaling ship Pequod sets sail under the leadership of Captain Ahab, who lost a previous ship and half a leg to a huge white whale named Moby-Dick. Ahab is obsessed with killing this whale. Novice seaman Ishmael joins the crew. While scouring the seas for the elusive giant, the Pequod encounters other ships, including the afflicted Rachel. Rachel’s crew had hunted Moby-Dick but is now searching for a boatload of lost men, including the captain’s young son. Ahab refuses to help, pressing on with his own quest. Eventually the white whale is sighted and chased. Moby-Dick fights back, crushes several boats, and destroys the Pequod in a final gory battle between Ahab and the leviathan. Only Ishmael survives, to be rescued by the crew of the Rachel.

Director Scott Palmer is notorious for deliberately challenging gender conventions in his casting, and the 12-person cast is split evenly between women and men – with a woman (Kymberli Colbourne) in the role of Captain Ahab. Moby-Dick, Rehearsed provides a play within a play, with Colbourne playing the overbearing leading lady of an acting troupe rehearsing King Lear. The star suddenly decides to switch stories to Moby-Dick, thoroughly confusing the stage manager and the rest of the company. After some casual backstage talk, the troupe bravely launches into a rehearsal of the new show. Without appropriate costumes, sets or props both cast and audience are allowed only imagination (augmented by ladders, sticks, and flags) to create the illusion of the whaling ship, the vast Pacific, and the great white whale. Watching the group transform itself from a bickering acting troupe into a cohesive unit nicely parallels the ship’s crew as its members gradually unite in support of Ahab’s insane quest.

The show’s lighter moments come during the backstage banter phase, primarily from Peter Schuyler (“Serious Actor/Starbuck”), David Heath (“Old Pro, Peleg”), and Eric St. Cyr (“Cynical Actor/Queequeg”). While Welles took most of the dialogue directly from Melville’s work, this segment allows the playwright to express a few thoughts of his own, including a sly dig at critics. A particularly astute moment comes when, in response to a comment about the need for theater, a character replies, “Nobody ever needed the theater — except us. Have you ever heard of an unemployed audience?”

Once the play-within-a-play moves into high gear, the women own the wrenching emotional content, while the men hurl themselves into the demanding physicality of creating ship and sea. Colbourne’s performance as Ahab and Father Mapple is shattering; the Leading Lady gets lost in the intensity and insane passion of her roles. Insanity also drives two of the other women – Arianne Jacques (“Stage Manager/Elijah”) and Cassie Greer (“Young Actress/Pip”).  Jacques brings a keening hysteria to her prophetic pronouncements, while Greer uses a plaintive, little-boy-lost delivery that draws the audience to the quiet, touching relationship between Ahab and Pip. Of the women, only Jessi Walters (“Ishmael”) lacks a touch of madness; as the only survivor, she ends up in the comparatively flat role of narrator.

Early in the show, cast members complain about the absence of an orchestra, as they will be forced to sing the show’s songs a cappella. While Moby-Dick, Rehearsed is certainly not a musical, and there are a few outside instrumental effects, the leads and ensemble work in the vocals are exquisite. The hymn and whaling songs are hauntingly powerful, and the whale’s final lament almost brought me to tears (of course, I’m the sort who always roots for the whale!).

Successfully creating the appearance of a spontaneous production is no mean feat. Lighting designer Molly Stowe, scenic designer Megan Wilkerson, and technical director Nate Patterson all play key roles in evoking the nonexistent ship, sea, and whale. Once again, Scott Palmer has pulled together a complex, rarely seen, and compelling piece of theater that entertains his audience while expanding their understanding of the art of theater.

Bag & Baggage’s Moby-Dick, Rehearsed is playing at Hillsboro’s Venetian Theatre, 253 E. Main Street, through March 20th, with performances Thursday through Saturday at 7:30pm, Sunday at 2:00pm.

The Philadelphia Story: This One’s for Laughter, Not Lamentation

Erin Bickler (Tracy), Richard Cohn-Lee (George), James Van Eaton (Sandy),
Nolan Morantte (Dexter), Dan Kelsey (Uncle Willie), Allie Andresen
(Dinah), Nate Walker (Mike)

By Tina Arth

The title The Philadelphia Story used to conjure up images of Katherine Hepburn, Cary Grant, and Jimmy Stewart on film in the classic 1940 romantic comedy. These days, people’s first reaction is more likely to be “you mean Philadelphia, the Tom Hanks movie about AIDS?”  Director Doreen Lundberg at Beaverton Civic Theatre is doing her part to redress this grievous slight by offering a thoroughly engaging version of playwright Philip Barry’s original work. The play (also starring Katherine Hepburn) opened on Broadway in 1939 and ran for an impressive 417 performances; while the overwhelming success of the subsequent movie ultimately overshadowed the original stage version, both are well worth watching.

The Philadelphia Story tells a tale of the Lord family, members of Philadelphia’s old money “main line” set. Stubborn and judgmental elder daughter Tracy has a taste for the unconventional – she wears trousers, astonished the local socialites two years previously by eloping with neighbor C. K. Dexter Haven (then added fuel to the fire by divorcing him), and is now on the eve of her wedding to the rigidly upright, very plebian and nouveau riche George Kittredge. Efforts to block an obviously unsuitable match come from several corners, including her younger sister Dinah, quirky Uncle Willie, and ex-husband Dex. Mike Connor and Liz Imbrie, two reporters from a tacky tabloid are on site (supposedly incognito, but everybody is in on the deception) to write up the wedding (“The Philadelphia Story”) for their scandal rag, and their presence is tolerated as part of an elaborate bargain to keep the magazine from publishing the shocking details of an affair between family patriarch Seth Lord and a New York dancer. Tracy’s drunken midnight swim with reporter Mike throws a monkey wrench into the wedding plans – not a trivial problem, since she had already cheated everyone out of a wedding two years earlier – but of course in the end it all works out nicely, although not exactly as planned.

It must be exceptionally challenging to bring an individual take to the role of Tracy Lord, as it’s so closely associate with Hepburn’s performance (and was actually written for her). Actor Erin Bickler has the advantage that she bears little physical resemblance to her iconic predecessor, and she has enough performing experience that she knows how to pay homage without imitation. Like some other cast members, she is at her funniest when her character is engaged in deliberate parody of her position as an elitist socialite. However, the real star for me is Tracy’s younger sister Dinah (Allie Andresen). Andresen is beyond charming as the enthusiastic, slightly gawky adolescent trying to emulate her idolized sister’s sophisticated, world-weary ennui, and she delivers some hilarious malapropisms with perfect timing and naïveté.

Dan Kelsey (“Uncle Willie”) is another exceptionally fun character to watch as he melds his wicked sense of humor with his genuine fondness for the Lord girls – illustrated perfectly when he drily emulates Dinah’s mispronunciation of “illicit.”

Speaking of dry, there’s Nolan Morantte (C. K. Dexter Haven). Like Bickler, he’s got big shoes to fill – his character is most identified with the movie portrayal by the great Cary Grant. Morantte has just the right touch – cool, restrained, seemingly uninvolved and affectionately contemptuous while he subtly ensures the right outcome for his soon-to-be-ex-wife. For most of three acts it is not obvious that he still loves her – but that’s exactly how the role needs to be played.

Set designer Alex Woodard has done a nice job of capturing the “old money” feel of the Lord home, and the three-act format allows for the major scene changes to take place during intermission, so there are no scene-change delays. Tonja Schreiber’s costumes are a real asset – capturing the differences in social class between reporters and socialites, George Kittredge’s tightly wound stuffiness and Dexter Haven’s casual elan, and the rebellious flavor of the two Lord girls.

Director Lundberg has assembled a cast and crew capable of doing justice to a witty, sophisticated period piece that holds up really well. I suspect that many audience members will be tempted, as I am, to track down the movie so they can spend a bit more time with the Lord family.

The Philadelphia Story Songs runs through Saturday, March 12^th at the Beaverton City Library Auditorium, 12375 SW Fifth Street, Beaverton, with performances at 7:30 p.m. on Fridays and Saturdays and 2:00 p.m. on Sundays.