Berkeley Rep: Treasure Island

Left to right: Steven Epp, John Babbo. Photo courtesy Kevin Berne and Berkeley Repertory Theatre.

The images in Robert Louis Stevenson’s 1883 book Treasure Island – the map with a big X over the buried treasure, the menacing pirate with the peg leg and parrot, the deserted island where lie the skeletons of a treacherous crew – have been irrevocably burned into the Western cultural consciousness. There have been dozens of adaptations in the past hundred years, yet it takes the touch of a director like Mary Zimmerman – a specialist in adapting larger-than-life tales to theatre – to make Stevenson’s work come to life on stage. Berkeley Rep’s production of Treasure Island cuts to the core of this swashbuckling adventure, creating a tense, riveting, and, above all, exciting play.

When reviewing an adaptation of Treasure Island, one must first discuss the most important element of the story: Long John Silver, the scoundrel who singlehandedly created the pop culture pirate. Actor Steven Epp emphasizes Silver’s trickster qualities, playing him as a veteran who compensates for his age and missing leg by being five times craftier than the rest of the characters. He is also fascinatingly ambiguous, switching sides multiple times in a single scene in an attempt to balance his own greed with escaping both justice and his mutinous band of ruffians. One particular piece of social gymnastics near the end of the play is more impressive than the multi-story gunfights.

The rest of the ensemble keeps up with Epp’s larger-than-life performance. Former Broadway actor John Babbo plays Jim Hawkins, teenage cabin boy and viewpoint character, with the pluck and courage one would expect from a Victorian-era protagonist. Castaway Ben Gunn (Steve Pickering) uses a boisterous physicality to punctuate his performance, dancing and leaping with joy when given his sudden redemption. My personal favorite supporting character, Squire Trelawney (Matt DeCaro), is the perfect aristocratic fop, whose loose lips and naiveté create trouble for the protagonists while the audience laughs at his bumbling demeanor.

Like many of Zimmerman’s works, Treasure Island uses music, visuals, and movement to further engage the audience the way only live theatre can accomplish. Traditional sea shanties punctuate the action, furthering slow parts of the plot and adding an eerie sense of adventure to the story as a whole. Todd Rosenthal’s set, consisting of a broad curved “floor” combined with lots of rigging, serves as a blank canvas while simultaneously suggesting a connection to the British nautical tradition in every scene. The costumes, designed by Ana Kuzmanic, separate the clean and crisp British loyalists from the grimy, practical pirates, making everyone’s allegiances identifiable on sight.

The most impressive part of Mary Zimmerman’s Treasure Island at Berkeley Rep is its utter sincerity. The plot is familiar to us, the characters effectively archetypes, but Zimmerman respects the source material and, except for a throwaway line where Long John Silver breaks the fourth wall, plays everything completely straight. To survive in the modern era, theatre needs the occasional injection of fun, goofy or not, and Treasure Island provides the excitement that we crave.

Theatreworks: tokyo fish story

Left to right: Francis Jue, Linden Tailor, James Seol. Photo courtesy Kevin Berne and Theatreworks.

Very few activities reflect the human spirit and its desire for transcendence like the precision and craft of cuisine. In particular, the culture built around sushi and its construction, as revealed to broader America in the documentary Jiro Dreams of Sushi, is slow, grueling, and demanding of perfection. Kimber Lee’s tokyo fish story, directed at Theatreworks by Kirsten Brandt, uses both character interactions and broader structure to contrast the art of sushi with the demands of the real world.

In a way, tokyo fish story is two plays at once: The poetic saga of sushi master Koji (Francis Jue), as his restaurant weathers a changing Japan, and the realist drama of his son Takashi (James Seol), who quashes his own culinary innovations out of fealty to his father. The merger of the two serves not only as a multifaceted look at a complex family relationship, but gives Koji the vulnerability he needs to become more than just a strict father.

Seol’s Takashi is the standout performance in the Theatreworks production. Though second apprentice Nobu (Linden Tailor) makes fun of him for being almost as uptight as Koji, in reality Takashi masks the pain of not knowing whether his father will ever see him as an equal. Takashi is a different person to every character in the play, and Seol portrays him with the beautiful emotional delicacy required for the audience to understand this.

Nobu’s role is meant to push Takashi into action and to provide a dose of levity. A lot of plays have similar “jester” characters, many of whom are loud and into pop culture (Star Wars in this case). Nobu serves this role while genuinely caring about his job and his mentor. While Tailor never tones down his intensity, he still finds ways to show his dedication to his work.

Wilson Chin’s set flips the conventions of the proscenium theatre on its head to meet the varying needs of the production. Normally, the stage is used to create a two-dimensional effect like a television screen, but here, the multi-tiered wooden framing and use of suspended sculpture create a theatre space that can be unified or split into narrow zones as the direction demands. This creates room for the actors to maneuver, but still feels cramped and uncomfortable like a tiny kitchen.

tokyo fish story at Theatreworks is a look into a life profoundly different from our own, where a three-decade apprenticeship is not unexpected, and one can not notice a neighbor has been gone for two years. It’s a play that observes multiple lives traveling at different speeds, and how someone “irrelevant” can still be incredibly important. Rather than critiquing the pace of the current generation, Lee is simply sitting at the counter and asking us questions about how things will change.

Oregon Shakespeare Festival 2016 Season

Each year, the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, located in scenic Ashland, Oregon, produces 11 plays in repertory. About half of them are the works of Shakespeare, with the rest a mixture of contemporary plays, older musicals, and shows by classic playwrights.

Ashland itself is a wonderful place for a vacation. A variety of quality restaurants with fresh ingredients, lots of nearby trails and parks, and a thriving visual arts scene make the town a favorite destination.

Here are some of the most exciting plays of OSF’s 2016 season:

Twelfth Night (dir. Christopher Liam Moore)

Runs February 19 through October 30

While OSF’s previous version of this play was set in a color-saturated Elizabethan England, this year’s production is based on glamorous 1930’s Hollywood musicals. Because of the play’s strong themes of music and love, as well as the nicely wrapped-up ending where the villain gets his due, it feels like a great fit.

Director Christopher Liam Moore has worked mostly on contemporary plays during his 6-year career at OSF, but he also directed the semi-modern adaptation of A Midsummer Night’s Dream in 2013.

The River Bride (by Marisela Treviño Orta, dir. Laurie Woolery)

Runs February 21 through July 7

The River Bride, which had several productions around the West Coast prior to this performance, is a mystical, dreamlike story-play based partially on the Amazonian myth of dolphins taking human form to seduce women. Historically, OSF’s plays based on mythology, such as 2013’s White Snake, have been extremely successful, and I look forward to seeing how they present this one.

Great Expectations (Adaptation by Penny Metropulos and Linda Alper, dir. Penny Metropulos)

Runs February 20 through October 30

This new adaptation of Great Expectations captures the over-the-top characters and dramatic twists of fate that one would expect from one of Dickens' greatest novels. Stage versions of Dickens stories (excepting A Christmas Carol) are surprisingly rare, so it is a treat to see such a quality theatrical company take on the challenge.

Hamlet (dir. Lisa Peterson)

Runs June 7 through October 14

Hardly anything is more exciting than a production of Hamlet by one of the greatest Shakespeare repertories in the country. This version, directed by guest artist Lisa Peterson, emphasizes the themes of madness and doubt present in the play: Is Hamlet avenging the murder of a noble king, or killing an innocent man in a haze of grief?

While the 2010 production cast Dan Donohue in the titular role, this year’s Hamlet is played by Danforth Comins, most notable for his incredible portrayal of Stanley Kowalski in 2013’s A Streetcar Named Desire. It will be exciting to see what he brings to the part.

The Wiz (Book by William F. Brown, music and lyrics by Charlie Smalls, dir. Robert O’Hara)

Runs June 8 through October 15

This year, OSF’s recent tradition of directing classic 20^th-century musicals in fascinating ways arrives at the all-Black adaptation of The Wizard of Oz – the one that took audiences by storm in 1974. Director Robert O’Hara, who also wrote the play Insurrection: Holding History, frequently focuses on the conflicts between identity and the past in his work, and I look forward to what messages he will add to and discover within The Wiz. 

The Winter’s Tale (dir. Desdemona Chiang)

Runs June 9 through October 16

Shakespeare’s rarely performed tragicomedy, featuring magic, miracles, and the most famous bear-related stage direction of all time, arrives at the Elizabethan Theatre this year. For this production, director Desdemona Chiang has adapted the play across multiple times, setting it simultaneously in dynastic China and America’s West in the 19^th Century. One of the great benefits of large Shakespeare festivals like OSF is their willingness to take risks with uncommon works, and a production of The Winter’s Tale is a rare treat.

Santa Clara University: The Good Doctor

Left to right: Cameron Wells, Kalina Venugopal, Michael Standifer, Nick Medal, Claire Parchem. Photo courtesy Santa Clara University. 

One might not think of the works of Anton Chekhov as being rich material for comedy. However, the Russian author and playwright had a wit that was sadly overshadowed by early dour productions of his work. In the 1970’s, Neil Simon adapted some of Chekhov’s short stories into The Good Doctor, effectively Chekhov-turned-sketch-comedy. Santa Clara University’s current production, helmed by director Aldo Billingslea, makes the Chekhov/Simon duet shine brightly.

Some of the scenes are straightforward: “Surgery” features a vaudeville duo – an incompetent doctor (Drew Descourouez) and a priest with a toothache (Elahdio Aliaga), while in “A Defenseless Creature,” a loud woman (Kalina Venugopal) torments a bank manager and his assistant (Aliaga and Descourouez again – all of the actors play a handful of characters). These are scenarios common to old comedy, but Simon’s framing structure – using a nameless writer (Cameron Wells) to open and close each scene – provides a level of metahumor.

Later scenes have more complex structure and unusual jokes. My personal favorite was the late scene “A Quiet War,” where Nick Medal and Claire Parchem assume the roles of retired high officers who have a formal, strategized argument over what makes the perfect lunch. Despite the characters’ similarities, the actors interpreted them differently: Medal’s Army officer is loud and brash, while Parchem’s Navy is sly and willing to bend the rules of their argument. They might be at each other’s throats, but one can get a sense of their deep friendship.

The SCU production combines the sophistication of Chekhov’s characters and scenarios with the fundamentals of mid-20^th-century comedy. Jerald Enos’ set hints at the more elaborate, realistic sets commonly used for Chekhov’s plays, but all of the larger elements are moved to the back, allowing ample room for Simonesque slapstick. Billingslea’s flexible direction both makes use of the empty space for slapstick and what set elements exist for scenes like “The Drowned Man”.

Featuring a funny, versatile cast and the unique combination of Chekhov/Simon comedy, Santa Clara University’s The Good Doctor makes a great evening. Most likely, you will find that some of the scenes are funnier or more appealing to you than others, but it’s never a dull moment. This testifies to the wide diversity of the material, as well as the breadth and imagination of the SCU production.

Palo Alto Players: Clybourne Park

Left to right: Casey Robbins, Fred Pitts, Damaris Divito. Photo courtesy Palo Alto Players.

Clybourne Park is difficult to classify in terms of “comedy” and “drama.” The play, especially the second act, finds humor in the discomforts of racial tension, but is underscored with the characters’ essential humanity and desire for some amount of dignity in their life. Nobody in this play is a saint, but nobody is irrationally cruel either. Palo Alto Players’ rendition, directed by Jeanie K. Smith, uses brilliant staging to illustrate the subtleties of this challenging, multileveled play.

The first act, taking place in 1959 in the middle-class white Chicago neighborhood of Clybourne Park (mentioned during Lorraine Hansberry’s Raisin in the Sun), uses many of the same beats as the dramas of the 20^th century. It centers on white couple Russ (Todd Wright) and Bev (Betsy Kruse Craig), torn apart by recent family tragedy and contending with neighbors trying to stop them from selling their house to the black Younger family. Smith’s direction organizes the characters and their numerous subplots into understandable units, making the complex maze of relationships clear to the audience.

Wright’s performance as Russ – a weary man battling the recent loss of his son – is spectacular, measuring up to some of American theatre’s greatest patriarchs. In an act where almost every character’s true intentions are obscured by a barrier of politeness, Russ’ motivation is clear – he wants to leave. This clarity of action makes him more sympathetic than Jim (Casey Robbins), who wants to sweep tragedy under the rug, or Karl (Michael Rhone), who cares more about keeping the neighborhood white than about his neighbors’ pain.

Caught in the crossfire are Francine (Damaris Divito), Bev’s black housekeeper, and her husband Albert (Fred Pitts), who have no particular investment in the drama – Francine has somewhere she needs to be – but end up being used as props in everyone’s argument. Albert is by far the funniest character in this act, occasionally stepping in with a piercing remark that deflates the tension the other characters have painstakingly built up. The art of the one-liner is difficult, and in Clybourne Park, Pitts proves that he is a master.

The second act, set 50 years later in what has become an increasingly gentrified black neighborhood, retains much of the previous act’s structure but presents itself as a modern comedy. Michael Rhone and Kelly Rhinehart play Karl and Betsy, a white couple seeking to tear down the house from the previous act, but who have run into opposition in the form of black housing board representatives Kevin and Lena (Pitts and Divito).

In this act the web of relationships is simpler, the veneer of politeness is more fragile, and many of the characters are less sympathetic. Divito’s acting as Lena is superb – she’s singularly focused on protecting her family’s legacy and Clybourne Park as a community, and although she plays along, she quickly stops putting up with Karl and Betsy’s sheer ignorance of the problems they cause. Her performance is powerful but reactive; she doesn’t want to get dragged into a fight, but she can more than hold her own.

Clybourne Park is an intelligent, funny, well-written play about the way people skirt around uncomfortable issues of race and privilege, and how the artificial constructs of polite conversation crumble when faced with reality. Solid acting from the entire company and smart direction make this play a community theatre gem and an absolute must-see.