City Lights: Alabama Story

Left to right: Karen DeHart, Steve Lambert, Erik Gandolfi. Photo courtesy Taylor Sanders and CLTC.

Kenneth Jones’ Alabama Story is in many ways the second coming of the classic play Inherit The Wind: A heartwarming narrative, based on a true story, about reason and togetherness emerging victorious over the evils of hate in a Deep South town. City Lights’ San Jose production, a West Coast premiere, is a play as uplifting as the children’s book about which it is written.

Alabama Story’s most overt theme is racial integration and the fight over a children’s book that – at least according to Alabama’s white supremacist element – implicitly supported interracial marriage. The burgeoning Civil Rights movement and the actions of early protesters like Rosa Parks drives much of the action of the play. However, existing alongside the play’s message of tolerance is a subtler theme of the power of literature to touch anyone’s heart. The main character, veteran librarian Emily Reed (Karen DeHart), defends The Rabbits’ Wedding on the basis that books shouldn’t be censored. Even the antagonist, segregationist senator E.W. Higgins (Erik Gandolfi), continues to fund the library during the fight out of a childhood love of Tom Sawyer. Books in Alabama Story are the most important ideological boundary, and nobody in the play disrespects the boundary enough to truly step over it.

City Lights’ cast brings the play to life. Gandolfi’s E.W. Higgins is the very picture of a Southern politician, employing a stentorian voice, Sunday morning delivery, and a passive-aggressive method of enforcing his will. DeHart’s Reed, on the other hand, stands opposite in every way: She displays a powerful inner strength while remaining humble and neutral. This emphasizes the clash not only between these characters’ values, but how they fight for them. Steve Lambert takes on a variety of roles, but the best is the elderly politician Bobby Crone, which he portrays with a mix of practicality and force of will. Jeremy Ryan plays Reed’s charming assistant Thomas Franklin with innocence, charm, and well-meaning righteous anger. Meanwhile, Bezachin Jifar and Maria Giere Marquis portray star-crossed lovers Joshua and Lily; their chemistry is evident whether they’re sharing small talk or reckoning the reality of a Jim Crow South.   

While some plays benefit from a wild technical approach, the design team of Alabama Story wisely knew when to experiment and when not to. Standing out most is scenic designer Ron Gasparinetti’s proscenium archway of book-shaped projector screens: Though they’re noticeable while the audience gets settled and awaits the show, it’s employed subtly so it doesn’t draw focus away from the actors. The tiered floor of the set also serves, along with Mia Kumamoto’s insightful, economic lighting work, to define the multiple plotlines that run simultaneously during the show.

Alabama Story at City Lights is a comforting tale of the triumph of knowledge over ignorance and a future classic. Lovers of Twelve Angry Men and, as mentioned, Inherit the Wind, will especially enjoy the play’s timeless themes and well-defined characters.

Theatreworks: The Prince of Egypt

Left to right: Jason Gotay, Diluckshan Jeyaratnam. Photo courtesy Kevin Berne and TheatreWorks.

Dreamworks’ 1998 movie The Prince of Egypt, an adaptation of the story of Exodus, thrilled audiences with its superb animation and Stephen Schwartz-composed music. The film’s lynchpin song, “When You Believe,” won Schwartz an Academy Award for Best Original Song. Theatreworks’ world premiere adaptation, directed by Scott Schwartz and featuring a selection of new music, translates the majesty of the original work in a way that can only be expressed on the stage.

Central to the work are Moses (Diluckshan Jeyaratnam) and his brother Ramses (Jason Gotay), crown prince of Egypt. Jeyaratnam’s Moses is mischievous, emotional, and tormented by the actions he has to take as God’s chosen one. This human interpretation of Moses is an interesting departure from the Moses-as-inscrutable-prophet version in the public perception. Meanwhile, Gotay portrays Ramses not as a force of evil, but a pitiful figure crushed by the expectations held of him. Though he is responsible for the continual enslavement of the Hebrews, it stems more from weakness than malice. Ramses’ confrontation with Moses is as inevitable as it was in Exodus, but in this production, Gotay gives us a sense of tragedy on both sides.

The rest of the cast delivers equally stellar performances. Brennyn Lark’s Tzipporah ventures into romance with Moses without losing the fiery independence at the core of her character. Tom Nelis approaches the role of old pharaoh Seti like one would approach Shakespeare’s Caesar, weighing down the younger characters with his gravitas even after his death. High priest Hotep (Will Mann) is elevated from a goofy minor antagonist in the film to a force of authority responsible for many of Ramses’ worst decisions; Mann’s balance of sinister power and cartoony outrage is perfect for the role.

The songs in the musical are a combination of the award-winning soundtrack from the movie and new work made specifically for the stage adaptation. The opening song “Deliver Us” retains its overwhelming grandeur, setting the stage for the great scope of the story as a whole. Moses’ new song “Footprints on the Sand” prefaces his journey through his desire to accomplish something meaningful, not just to live in luxury. “One of Us”, another new number at the beginning of the second act, uses a jaunty tune and fun rhymes to lighten the mood before the Exodus truly begins.

Because the movie made frequent use of expensive artistic elements, one would expect the stage adaptation to do the same. Instead, the technical elements are restrained, making use of minimal props and sets to tell its story. Much of the musical’s visual aesthetic is created through the work of choreographer Sean Cheeseman; a talented ensemble uses dance to construct such set pieces as the wall of an Egyptian palace or the fire through which God speaks to Moses. What can’t be represented through human motion is created through Shawn Sagady’s projection work or set designer Kevin Depinet’s multipurpose stone blocks. This technical work avoids the long shadow created by the musical’s predecessor, creating a visual spectacle that can only be achieved by live theatre.

The Prince of Egypt at Theatreworks is more of a reinterpretation of both the original film and the story of Exodus than a retelling. Not only are the structure and characterization different, but even major story components like Ramses drowning in the Red Sea are changed. Even if you’ve seen the film, the stage adaptation creates a fresh perspective through a talented cast delivering new takes on familiar characters and a visual style that makes use of the theatre’s ability to represent through movement.

Theatreworks: Hershey Felder, Beethoven

Hershey Felder. Photo courtesy Christopher Ash.

Ludwig van Beethoven has left perhaps the largest legacy of any classical musician, with such seminal works as Für Elise, Moonlight Sonata, and the famous “Da-da-da-DUN” of his Fifth Symphony. And yet we mostly see Beethoven as a marble bust upon a shelf, a machine who created beautiful music, instead of the flawed, tormented human he really was. Pianist/actor/playwright Hershey Felder illustrates the struggle between joy and misery within the composer in his one-man show Hershey Felder, Beethoven, which brings to life a person whom most of us have known only as a distant legend.

Hershey Felder, Beethoven is not approached from Beethoven’s perspective: Perhaps Felder thought an outside look would better illustrate Beethoven’s complexities, or that Beethoven’s inner struggles were too complicated to be retold truthfully from his view. What we get instead is fragments of Beethoven’s life, death, and struggle with deafness, from the perspective of Gerhard von Breuning, his former caretaker. This framing is a more honest way of discussing a historical figure about whom little is known; the audience leaves the theatre still asking questions that may never be answered.

Felder’s acting dwells at two extremes: His portrayal of von Breuning is clipped and composed, calmly asking the audience to hear his side, while his portrayal of Beethoven is wild, driven to paroxysms of joy and rage. We don’t get tired of either character because Felder switches between them so often, and, in fact, discover new facets of their personalities every time we return to them. Other incidental characters, such as the point-of-view character’s father, are portrayed with delicacy and nuance.

Unlike most one-person shows, Hershey Felder, Beethoven is interspersed with Felder’s emotionally charged piano performances of some of Beethoven’s best-known work. This is vital for the performance, as it shows, not tells, the sheer impact of the music and allows us to experience for ourselves its timeless power. Interspersed between the music, Felder points out Beethoven’s love for composing in C minor, Beethoven’s melody speaking to us above the rhythmic base in the Moonlight Sonata, and many other insights into Beethoven’s legacy, which allows us to appreciate his music on a higher level.

Hershey Felder, Beethoven is a glimpse into what little we know of one of the greatest, most complex musicians in Western history. Knowing Beethoven’s flaws doesn’t bring him down to earth, but instead gives us more insight into a composer who, while fraught with despair and rage, was nevertheless able to produce works of tremendous beauty. Even for those with only a passing familiarity with Beethoven and his works, this one-person show will bring tears to your eyes.

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The Marsh Berkeley: East 14th

Don Reed. Photo courtesy Aaron Epstein.

A sparse wooden chair and a beaten-up red vinyl seat sit on opposite sides of the stage of Don Reed’s autobiographical one-man show East 14th. These chairs, we soon learn, are a visual metaphor for Reed’s identity as he grew up in Oakland in the 70’s, torn between an early upbringing under his strict, religious stepfather and teenage years with his laissez-faire, fun-loving dad, who he realized years later was one of Oakland’s biggest pimps. East 14^th, now running at The Marsh Berkeley, is a masterfully written show recalling a funny, complex, and, most of all, unique coming of age.

There are a sizeable number of stories that end by saying it’s important to be yourself, but East 14^th is one of the few that approaches this message with nuance and charm. The teenage Reed becomes surrounded by smooth-talking players as he spends time with his father and half-brothers, but it’s obvious that he doesn’t quite fit in. Yet Reed’s character arc isn’t simple and neat; he doesn’t realize that his stepfather was right after all and go back to his stark religious life. Instead, he learns that he has to find his own path in the world, one that draws from both sides of his family.

Like many solo performances, Reed portrays dozens of characters over the course of the show, ranging from a sour-faced neighbor kid who burned down a garage to a poorly dubbed actor from the classic kung fu movie The Five Fingers of Death. Reed primarily uses physical tics, posture, and word choice to define new characters, which makes them recognizable without dragging them into the realm of caricature. Some of these changes are remarkably subtle, most notably Reed’s stepfather – Reed merely stands a little straighter and slightly alters the inflection of his voice to transition from nervous preteen to self-confident Jehovah’s Witness.

East 14^th is mostly a comedic play, and its structure reuses jokes to powerful effect. Reed will introduce something funny  – say, that he used to blink constantly as a child – and, just when the audience has forgotten, return to it using increasingly complex setups. It’s fairly similar to the work of Eddie Izzard, a cycle of humor that increases in both complexity and payoff the later it gets in the play. But within all the comedy lie genuinely painful and frightening parts of Reed’s life; he transitions into these with lightning speed and snaps out of them with a well-timed joke. These tense moments, tightly woven into the show, remind us that this isn’t a series of comedy sketches – this is Reed opening up and showing us a strange and sometimes difficult childhood.

Don Reed’s East 14^th at The Marsh Berkeley is an astonishingly well-crafted piece of theatre and one of the best shows I’ve seen in years. The solo performance combines a bittersweet look at life growing up in East Oakland in the 1970s with a nuanced exploration of personal identity and a barrage of excellent comedy. 

East 14th runs through June 4th.

Theatreworks: Rags

Left to right: Kyra Miller, Danny Rothman, Jonah Broscow. Photo courtesy Kevin Berne and TheatreWorks.

Rags, according to its bookwriter Joseph Stein, is in part a follow-up to his previous work, the legendary Fiddler On The Roof. Both concern questions of Jewish identity and faith; however, while Fiddler was about life in the Eastern European shtetl, Rags takes place in America among a community of recently arrived Jewish immigrants. Combined with a score by Charles Strouse (Bye Bye Birdie, Annie) and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz (Wicked, Pippin), Rags is a work both emotionally provoking and immensely entertaining. Theatreworks’ production of Rags, directed by Robert Kelley, is an excellent opportunity to see a rarely produced Broadway gem.

The plot of Rags follows several groups of new immigrants scraping out a living on the streets of New York City in the 1910s. The main characters – if the play could be said to have them – are Rebecca Hershkowitz (Kyra Miller) and her son David (Jonah Broscow). Miller’s performance as Rebecca is outstanding. Despite exhibiting justifiable caution toward the new customs and dangers of the United States, she lowers her guard. Miller’s songs communicate her fear and insecurity, but are also beautiful to listen to thanks to her clear, powerful voice. Meanwhile, Broscow’s enthusiasm contrasts with his mother’s defensiveness, as he absorbs both the customs of his new country and the Socialist philosophy of the disaffected adults around him.

Multiple excellent performances round out the show. Julie Benko and Donald Corren play daughter-and-father pair Bella and Avram Cohen – Benko deftly navigates one of the most complex characters in the play, while Corren’s acting spans the gamut between goofy comic relief and intense pain. Saul (Danny Rothman) helps Rebecca and David adjust to life in New York while also pushing Rebecca to join a union. But far from being a perfect symbol of workers’ rights, Saul makes numerous mistakes that harm his loved ones. Rothman’s intensity in his commitment is balanced by genuine remorse for his errors.

The technical work is interesting without being overwhelmingly flashy. Set designer Joe Ragey creates a pent-in feeling with numerous tall structures combined with a projected backdrop that takes us from Ellis Island to the nicest parts of Manhattan. Pamila Z. Gray’s lights are often diffused through stage fog, adding to the sense of New York’s grimy industrial cityscape. Combined with Fumiko Bielefeldt’s down-to-earth costumes, the audience is drawn into the setting while focusing more on characters’ interactions rather than the surrounding stage.

Immigration and America’s national identity are complex topics addressed by some of the greatest modern plays. Rags at Theatreworks adds another voice to the conversation, drawing together the perils of new immigrants – especially at the turn of the 20th century – with the questions of Jewish peoplehood and assimilation also featured in Fiddler On The Roof. More than just pure entertainment, Rags lends perspective to a multi-faceted subject.