Joe Cillo

 

HYDE PARK ON HUDSON, now playing at Landmark’s Embarcadero and Clay

Cinemas in San Francisco and elsewhere in the Bay Area, is a charmingly intimate look

at President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s life at his home in Hyde Park, New York.

 

The film focuses on Roosevelt’s erotic relationship with his cousin Daisy Suckley,

which only became public knowledge decades later when her letters (and some of his)

were discovered under her deathbed. Roosevelt is played, with a touch lighter than

air, by the great Bill Murray; Laura Linney’s Daisy is a wallflower at first flattered by

Roosevelt’s attention and then angered by its limits. Both are completely believable and

very affecting.

 

The other focus is on the weekend in June 1939 when the King of England, George

VI, and his wife Queen Elizabeth (later the Queen Mother), came to Hyde Park and

were famously treated to an informal (for them) hot dog picnic. They are presented (by

Samuel West and Olivia Colman) quite differently from the way we saw them in The

King’s Speech.

 

Olivia Williams is astonishing as Eleanor Roosevelt. She has her look, her manner,

her physical presence, even her gait, to the life. The screenwriter Richard Nelson gave

Eleanor almost nothing to do, which was a miscalculation. In her occasional few seconds

of action Williams gives the best performance in the film. Also excellent in brief roles

are Elizabeth Marvel as Roosevelt’s secretary Missy LeHand, and Elizabeth Wilson as

his gorgon of a mother. The costumes and production design are true to the period and

beautifully enhance the presentation.

 

The main interest of the film is the insight it gives into President Roosevelt’s life, and

by extension into his work. Nelson (who adapted his BBC radio play for this film), and

Murray too, succeed admirably by their restraint. Some reviewers have criticized the

film for not giving a rounded view of FDR, larger than life (as he could be) and booming

out an inspirational message. But Roosevelt was a hugely complicated man, and Hyde

Park on Hudson is not a biopic. A lot of the value of the film is precisely that it shows

him in a way we are not familiar with – quiet, lonely, exasperated by the tensions in

his household, needing intimacy but also moved as much by his own nature as by his

circumstances toward extreme reserve in his emotional life. By keeping most of the

action centered on small things, and by deliberately underplaying this publicly expansive

figure, Nelson and Murray give us a better look at Roosevelt than most of us have ever

seen before.

 

In particular, the film shows a lot about how Roosevelt’s paralysis affected his life.

We see him in his wheelchair, being carried when necessary, moving with difficulty

by clinging to the side of his desk. During his lifetime the press scrupulously avoided

showing any of this – there are only eight seconds of film in existence that show

him (after polio) walking (with a brace and a strong man to lean on), and only two

photographs (both taken by Suckley) showing him in a wheelchair. The film helps us

understand this part of his life in a way difficult to access otherwise.

 

The visit of the royal couple was not just a colorful episode, but a historically important

event. In June 1939 war in Europe was recognized as inevitable, and Britain urgently

needed American help to survive. But Roosevelt was constrained by the isolationist

views of Congress and the electorate, and couldn’t give the help he wanted to. Not

only were Americans determined not to repeat the experience of World War I, a lot of

them (especially the Irish) were actively hostile to Britain. The Mayor of Chicago said

publicly that if he ever met the King he would punch him in the nose. The real point

of the hot dog picnic was to humanize the British royals in American eyes and make

them appear friendly and approachable, so it would become easier to help them. And

Roosevelt did after this manage a lot of back door help (Lend-Lease, the Destroyers for

Bases program) before Hitler solved that problem by declaring war on the United States

after Pearl Harbor.

 

In keeping with the private focus of the film, close attention is given here to the

personal relationship between the King and the President, which developed into a

strategically important one. It is handled here with great sensitivity and insight.

One false note is the character of the Queen, who is shown here shrewishly hectoring

the King about his stammer and comparing him unflatteringly to his brother (the former

Edward VIII).

This is quite inconsistent with the historical record and all that is known about their

relationship, and it mars the film’s effectiveness.

 

But on the whole, and in almost all its parts, Hyde Park on Hudson is a superbly

crafted and beautifully presented look at a moment in time and an aspect of the life and

personality of one of America’s most important and compelling historical figures.

 

The Shelton Theater presents……

THE RAINMAKER

By

Richard Nash

Directed by Julie Dimas-Lockfeld

Starring Amanda Gerard-Shelton & Matt Shelton

Magic is believing in yourself.

If you can do that, you can make anything happen.

Goethe

Part of the mission of the Shelton Theater is “to communicate what it means to be human in the world” and Richard Nash’s classic play does just that.  “This poetic story has touched us with its quirky nature and courage to embrace the unknown,” says Director Julie Dimas-Lockfeld.  “It only takes a sliver of hope…to step into the grandeur of a larger and even more real perspective.”

 

Lockfeld worked with actors who have studied at The Shelton Studios.  Together, they created a moving tale of hope, love and beauty “The story for me becomes a romance between the elements of earth and sky – caring and dreaming,” says Lockfeld.  “The heart of the story is about opening up our closed minds and valuing what is right here. Funny thing is that what is here is so much more than what we imagined.”

 

For those of you who do not know the story of The Rainmaker, it is set in rural depression America during a drought that is destroying livestock, crops and hope.  Lizzie (Amanda Gerard-Shelton) is farmer H.C (Phillip Estrin)’s only daughter.  She is single, lonely and as big a source of worry to her father and two brothers as the lack of rain.

 

Noah, her older brother sees her for what she really is, a plan, quiet girl whose prospects diminish with each passing year, but her father sees the beauty that is beneath the surface: her goodness, her honesty and her compassion for others.  He loves her and wants her to find love and companionship, security and comfort.  The younger brother, Jim (John Kiernan) is a bit of a lush and a dreamer and does not realize that while he squanders money and time womanizing and drinking, his family needs him at home to help with the farm.

 

Into this quagmire of starving cattle, failing crops, spinsterhood and frustration comes Starbuck (Matt Shelton) a con man whose real name is Smith.  Shelton has created a character so charming and charismatic that his chicanery only adds to his appeal.  He burst into the kitchen and his appeal mesmerizes both the audience and the family on stage.  “I woke up this morning and I said to the world, this world is going at it all wrong” he says.  The family is so hungry for hope that Starbuck manages to convince H.C. and Jim to give him $100 to make it rain.  Both Lizzie and Noah doubt the rainmaker, but he reassures them: “Maybe God whispered a special word in my ear.”  He goes on to say, “Faith is believing you see white when your eyes tell you black.”

 

This is an ensemble piece and all the actors support one another beautifully, but it is Amanda Gerard-Shelton’s professionally accurate and sensitive performance that carries the play.  We not only hear her need in her speech, we see it in her eyes and her every movement.  She is lonely and she has accepted that all those hopes she once had will never come true.   “I’m sick and tired of being me,” she tells Starbuck and she goes out to the tack room where he is sleeping to find out if there can ever be something more in life for her.   Starbuck convinces her that beauty begins in the mind.  Sometimes, he says, it is a good thing to ignore what seems real, and believe that life is the way you want it to be.

 

When the brothers realize their spinster sister has spent the night with a crazy man they hardly know, they are scandalized. But H.C, knows the importance of love even if it is only for a moment.  He tells Noah,” You are so full or what right you can’t see what’s good.”

 

And indeed that is the point of this play.  We so often let our minds get in the way of our hearts that we keep ourselves from living the lives we could have if we but reached for the stars.

 

The set designed by Steve Coleman is a perfect replica of the time and place.  It sustains the mood of the play and yet looks as if it were plucked out of an American farmhouse from long ago.   Lockfeld uses the magic strains of the violin and artistic lighting to bring the audience into the world they see on stage.

 

The first thing we see is Lizzie in her bunk bed sleeping and we know that she is the fulcrum of the story.  “I just thought that this story is actually more of a fable. It’s more like elements in the psyche and I had the idea to style the production as a storybook tale. I wanted the experience of the actors to be real and personal and we keep working to grow that truth of experience in our work,” said Lockfeld. “Then maybe our modern sophistication and political correctness could be suspended a bit and we could enjoy the old fashioned family love, living close to the land, keeping faith in your heart qualities of The Rainmaker.”

 

The story, sentimental as it is, touches on important truths that transcend generations.  Only we can live our lives and only we can make those lives magic.  Lizzie says to Starbuck, “Maybe if you’d keep company with the world…if you saw it real.”

But the truth is that if we can believe in miracles, they will comfort us. As T. S. Elliot once said, “Mankind cannot stand too much reality.”

 

This is a beautiful production, understated and real.  It lasts an hour and 35 minutes without intermission and in that short space of time, you will be transported into a charming world where thinking makes it so.

Where there is great love
There are always miracles.
 Willa Cather

IF YOU GO….

WHERE: The Shelton Theater, 533 Sutter, San Francisco

WHEN: Now through December 22, 2012,

Fridays and Saturdays, 8 PM

TICKETS: $38 GENERAL ADMISSION

WWW SHELTONTHEATER.ORG

1 800 838 3006

 

 

 

 

 

IN DEFENSE OF BIRQAS

By Lynn Ruth Miller

A woman’s face is her work of fiction.

Oscar Wilde

I have reached the age when looking in the mirror has become a nightmare.  Either I see my mother or a woman who looks ready for a plot.  If the night before has been particularly grueling, I don’t see much at all.

 

I find that it takes a lot of work these days to get my face ready for public viewing.  I am not talking about going to a formal dance or meeting a dignitary.  I am saying that before I dare leave the house, I have a time consuming, discouraging and ego damaging routine I must follow before I dare greet the outside world.

 

As soon as I wake up, I drink 12 ounces of warm water to hydrate my skin.  I use a special facial sponge to wipe the sleep from my eyes and remove the rivulets of sand that have lodged in the wrinkles on my face and dripped down the folds of my neck.

 

I haul out a magnifying mirror and work on the white heads, uneven bumps and enlarged pores that spring up as if by magic during the night. Then I address the lush new growth of hair in my lip, my chin and hanging from my nostrils.

 

I apply a light moisturizing lotion to try to plump up the sagging pouches around my eyes and under my chin.  I pat the skin dry and hope those gaping pores close.

 

They don’t.

 

I apply a mild sun screen to the entire region of flesh above my collar bone.  It is impossible to separate my jawbone from my clavicle.  They have coagulated into a soft mass of unidentifiable epidermis. I have not seen my neck in fifteen years.   I slather on moisturizer and hope it sinks into all the right places.

 

It doesn’t.

 

My skin has developed so many colors that I cannot decide if it is a plaid or a print. Both peaches and cream are but a memory.  I apply a foundation that is the color of what it once was when it glowed with the blush of youth.  This was so many years ago that I am not sure I have chosen the right shade.  The one I am using is a tad darker than bleached cotton but not so dark that I look like an immigrant.

 

It is now time to do my eyes.  The first challenge is locating them.  They are wedged between the folds of my eyelids and the puffed gray pillows around what is left of my eyelashes.  I rub a bit of oil on the lids and then a tad of eye shadow to match my outfit.    I need to be careful because if I am wearing a vivid combination of color, my eyes will look like Bozo’s.

 

I am now ready for THE BIG CHALLENGE.  I must use a pencil and draw a line right above my eye lashes and directly under my eye.  This can take anywhere from twenty minutes to several hours depending on how many times I jam the pencil into my cornea or dislodge my contact lens.

 

Each morning my cheeks sag a few inches closer to my collar bone. I need to redefine them with rouge.  The trick is to add just enough tint so I don’t look dead.

 

I look in the mirror to see if there has been any improvement.

 

There hasn’t.

 

I so envy the women of the Middle East.  They wake, drape themselves in a burqa and go out on the town.  Oh, I know they are subservient and need to shut up and take it.  But the truth is that with a face like mine, no one is going to want to give it to me anyway unless I cover it up.  There is a huge advantage to draping yourself in a filmy bit of fabric and leaving your appearance to the imagination.  I could probably pass for a real looker unless it’s a windy day.

While you’re saving your face;

You’re losing your ass.

Lyndon Johnson

FOODIES! THE MUSICAL

By Morris Bobrow

Starring David Goodwin, Kim Larsen, Sara Hauter, Deborah Russo

 

Statistics show that of those who contract

The habit of eating, very few survive. 

George Bernard Shaw

 

Everybody does it….we all look forward to breakfast lunch and dinner….and unless we are anorexic, we indulge in all three, every day.  But in the Bay Area, eating and the food experience have been elevated to a pretentious and elaborate ritual. Morris Bobrow pokes fun at it all in this new, delightful and all too real spoof about what advertising, heath addicts and the medical community have managed to do to our eating habits. 

 

The show opens with a full cast presentation “I Like to Eat” (and who doesn’t?) and works its way through pompous waiters, falling in love with the food truck guy and trying to keep it kosher.  Who cannot see themselves and blush when the cast is so excited about a new place to eat that they simply cannot choose. “OMG” they sing, and that is exactly what we say when we find a new and different restaurant. 

 

We all have been put off by the pompous waiter who not only gives you dining suggestions but tells you his life story.  We have been smothered in the friendly restaurant atmosphere where you meet everyone involved in creating your meal.  Who can forget Deborah Russo ‘s brilliant smile when she announces, ”I’m your dishwasher!”?  It is almost too real to be funny.   

 

The hour is filled with many memorable moments, but unforgettable is the song, “Taking the Waters” that discusses the different types of water we drink these days in the same lingo that wine connoisseurs evaluate wine (and that in itself is about as affected as you can get.)  Gone the days when you could walk up to a counter and ask for a cup of coffee.  Now you have so many choices and so many decisions, it is almost easier to forget the whole thing and buy a tea bag. 

 

All the habits we have adopted, the hang ups that guide us, the foolishness in the name of health we read about and hear about every day are lampooned in this tuneful, energetic, beautifully paced little musical.  We smile; we tap our feet; and we love every minute of this performance because each person in the audience has experienced the frustration of worrying about what the food we are eating ate, and the humiliation of cooking a wonderful meal that no one likes.  It has happened to all of us, but in FOODIES: THE MUSICAL, we don’t throw pots and pans at one another, we laugh.

 

Don’t miss this opportunity for a  unique, laugh-filled hour filled with unforgettable tunes by the very talented Morris Bobrow, composer of “Shopping! The  Musical!” And “Party of 2-The Mating Musical.”  The cast work together as a team and yet each one shines in his own way. The music is hummable and never detracts from the movement on stage.  The show is as marvelous to watch as it is to hear.  It doesn’t get much better than that.     

 

Where: The Shelton Theater, 533 Sutter (at Powell), 433-3040
When: Preview performances Sept. 28-29, Oct. 5; show runs Fridays and Saturdays from Oct. 6-Nov. 17
Cost: $30 for previews; $34 general (purchase via Brown Paper Tickets)

 

To eat is a necessity, but to eat intelligently is an art.
François de La Rochefoucauld

San Jose Rep presents….

FREUD’S LAST SESSION

By Mark St. Germain

Directed by Stephen Wrentmore

Starring Ben Evett & J. Michael Flynn

To be an atheist requires an indefinitely greater measure of faith

Than to receive all the great truths which atheism would deny.

Joseph Addison

This play is an imaginary glimpse into the minds of two great thinkers, C. S. Lewis and Dr. Sigmund Freud in a conversation the day before England enters World War II and two weeks before Freud, dying of oral cancer ends his own life.  The two men discuss love, sex and the existence of God and debate the value and impact of all three on the human condition.

 

Kent Dorsey’s magnificent set recreates Freud’s study and sets the mood for the 90 minute discussion between the two men.  Director Stephen Wrentmore manages to keep the play moving by making use of the entire stage.  The characters move from the tea table, to the couch to the radio to listen to the news proclaiming the imminence of war.  Somehow, the combination of excellent direction and superb acting keeps the dialogue from descending into a tiresome recitation of two men’s conflicting philosophies.

 

C. S. Lewis ((Ben Evett) has recently embraced religion and Freud (J. Michael Flynn) says, “I want to learn why a man of your intellect would abandon truth and embrace a lie.”  The remaining 90 minutes is spent hearing the reason Lewis knows that God exists and Freud is equally sure religion is a myth.

 

Freud points out that the very existence of Hitler proves that there is no supreme being watching over us and Lewis disagrees.  “Hitler’s actions reinforce the opposite,” he says. “We have to accept that there is a moral law.” And he goes on to say, “The wish that God doesn’t exist can be stronger than the wish that God does.

 

Freud counters with “Theologians hide behind their ignorance;” and as the discussion continues he says, “I always find what people don’t tell me is less important than what they do.”    Lewis sees that Freud is dying and he says, “How can a man of your intelligence think the end is the end?   When you are faced with death, then what?”

 

Indeed, through the endless back and forth discussion whether God exists or if He is a product of our imagination, the arguments presented were the same l ones religious leaders and atheist have been tossing back and forth every since religion began.  It was Michael Bakunin who said, “All religions, with their gods, their demi-gods, and their prophets, their messiahs and their saints, were created by the prejudiced fancy of men who had not attained the full development and full possession of their faculties.”

 

In contrast Calvin Coolidge said, “It is hard to see how a great man can be an atheist. Without the sustaining influence of faith in a divine power we could have little faith in ourselves. We need to feel that behind us is intelligence and love.”

 

The debate we heard on the San José Repertory’s stage was the one that has been going on for centuries.  There were no shocking revelations, no new lights cast on the eternal conflict between religion and its opponents.  The play is saved by the virtuosity of the actors moving across an amazing set that recreates the time the play is taking place and the pace of the production.  You won’t hear anything new in this play, nor will the ideas presented convince you that your own belief is invalid.  I doubt that either argument presented in the script will be innovative or strong enough to convert a believer and convince one who does not.  The virtue of this production is in the acting and direction and for that alone it is well worth the price of admission.

 

 

 

FREUD’S LAST SESSION continues through  November 4, 2012

San Jose Repertory theatre

101 Paseo de San Antonio

San Jose

Tickets $29-$74 408 367 7255 or www. Sjrep.com

           

WHAT WILL THE TOOTH FAIRY DO?

Lynn Ruth Miller

 

Most people can’t even think what to hope for

 When they throw a penny in a fountain.
Barbara Kingsolver

There is talk on this side of the pond, of getting rid of money. “Today, only 7% of all transactions in the United States are done with cash, and most of those transactions involve very small amounts of money.“ says the internet blog, The Economic Collapse. “Our financial system is dramatically changing, and cash is rapidly becoming a thing of the past.”

 

These days, it costs more than it’s worth to manufacture the cash we stuff into our wallets and bulging coin purses. In America, it costs 11.18 cents to mint a 5 cent piece and a penny costs 2.41 cents.  It isn’t much better in Britain.  Although the Royal Mint will not reveal how much it costs to mint 1p, rumor has it that the cost from manufacture to distribution is approximately £3.

 

That doesn’t make sense.

 

Besides the cost to make them, there is the threat to our health and well being.  Coins and bills land in thousands of pockets, are touched by millions of hands and no one ever cleans them up.  The bills are tattered and full of germs; the coins are not only cumbersome but they create embarrassing bulges that aren’t what you think they are.

 

When coins were first invented, everyone thought it was the greatest idea since the fig leaf.  Coins didn’t rot or die on you.  Their value didn’t deteriorate with time.  You could stick them in the bank and they would be there for years and still have value. You used them to reward children and toss in fountains.  You stuck them under pillows when children lost their baby teeth and you put them in your shoe for good luck.

 

What will happen to the Piggy Bank when pennies are no more? When I was a child, this was the time of year when I began stuffing pennies in the little ceramic pig I got for Christmas last year so I could buy my Mama a present for Christmas this year.  Every day, I would put in a penny I had earned for helping her bring in the groceries or drying the dishes (now you know how old I am) and by December first, my little pig was bulging with the hard earned cash I had fed him. I would go to the jewelry store, hand the clerk my piggy bank and say, “What can I buy my mother with this?”  She and I would smash the bank and pile the pennies into columns of ten and then tabulate the results.  One year, I was able to buy my mother a silver candle snuffer and another time, I bought her a lapel pin with a little blue stone in the middle…all with the money I earned doing chores.

 

Children these days would either have to type in a code on their cell phones or swipe a credit card to pay for that special something they want to buy for their parents.  It just couldn’t give them the same sense of accomplishment.  Every penny I gave that saleslady had a story behind it. All a credit card has is an APR.

Say good-by to wallets when cash is no more.  You can keep all your credit information on your cell phone or slip your credit card in your pocket.   Profiles will be slimmer and, because seeing the cash, made you realize how much you were actually spending, expenditures will go up.  But who cares?  It’s all just numbers and as every politician knows you can make numbers say anything you want.

 

The good news is if you keep your pennies stashed away in a bureau drawer, they will become valuable relics from another time, like vinyl records and rotary dial phones.   Your heirs can sell your stash for at least 500% of their face value.  That should pay for your casket!

When I was young I thought that money

Was the most important thing in life;

Now that I am old, I know that it is.
Oscar Wilde

 

TOPDOG/UNDERDOG

By Suzan-Lori Parks

Directed by Timothy Douglas

Starring Biko Eisen-Martin & Bowman Wright

Being black is not a matter of pigmentation –

Being black is a reflection of a mental attitude.
Steven Biko

Be prepared to be spellbound from the moment Biko Eisen-Martin walks on the Marin Theatre Company’s stage until the climax of this disturbing, all too real drama, two and a half hours later. You will see and actually feel this story of two brothers barely scavenging their way uphill through one disappointment after another not because of their lack of ability or ambition, but because of what they are and what they have been.

 

Booth (Biko-Eisen Martin) is living in a one room tenement flat with no running water that his older brother Lincoln (Bowman Wright) is sharing with him because Lincoln’s wife has thrown him out of his former home.  Booth’s is the only bed and Lincoln sleeps in a recliner.

 

The brothers have managed to survive a rollercoaster childhood. They were abandoned by both parents two years apart; first their mother then their father.  Lincoln, at sixteen, was forced to watch out for Booth who was only 11 years old.  Throughout this play, Lincoln continues to worry about his younger brother. He still feels responsible for Booth’s well-being and he shields him from unpleasant truths.   He gives him the food he prefers, gives him money not just for rent and utilities but for special treats that Booth doesn’t really need.  Booth’s talent is stealing and he is so light-fingered he can take any product from anywhere undetected.  Lincoln’s talent is dealing cards but he has given up that kind of life for a conventional one with a real job with benefits….and he isn’t doing very well.

 

His job is Impersonating Lincoln the day he was assassinated.  He has to whiten his face to resemble the famous president  and he is being paid less than the going rate for his services because he is black.  He swears he likes his job because it gives him time to think about things and compose songs in his head, but he is worried he is going to be replaced by a fabric dummy.  The real reason Lincoln clings to the daily grind that is wearing him down is his determination to live the conventional way with a steady job, one where he isn’t depending on his wits for fast cash.  Before he started this job, he was a highly successful dealer in a Three Card Monte scam.  Three Card Monte is a con game that no one can ever win.

 

The game is as much a performance as it is a contest that proves the hand is always quicker than the eye.  Lincoln was so quick with his hands that he was the best on the street.  He made more money than he could spend and he felt good about himself.  His luck seemed eternal until his mark, Lonny, the man who starts the betting and keeps the game moving, was killed.  In that moment, Lincoln saw the game for what it was and he knew he wanted no part of it.   Still, dealing is his special gift and he is proud of what he could do.  “Lucky?” he says.  “Aint nothing lucky about cards.  Cards aint luck.  Cards is work. Cards is skill. Ain’t never nothing lucky about cards.”

 

Booth doesn’t share his brother’s sense of right and wrong and he is desperate to earn the kind of money his brother once did on the street. .  He believes the two of them can start their own game and earn a living together.  Booth is sure he can be a dealer because he is so quick and facile with his hands.  He is so adept at stealing that he managed to get both them both new suits, a room divider, a blanket and food.

 

This play is dialogue driven and the plot takes its shape from the brothers’ rapid fire conversation.  The acting is beyond wonderful and the two men manage to make their characters loveable and very vulnerable.  We know that they are trapped their life because of their color and because of the disruptive, chaotic childhood that prepared them for nothing but a desperate, frustrating fight to keep their heads above water.  The author Suzan Lori Parks says “There is no such thing as THE Black Experience.  That is there are many experiences of being Black which are included in the rubric….What can theatre do for us? We can tell it like it is, tell it as it was, tell it as it could be.”

 

And in Top dog/ Underdog that is just what she does, using rich and textured dialogue delivered with consummate skill by Martin and Wright.  Make no mistake.  This is not a play about being black.  It is about being poor and underprivileged.  It is about living on the edge of society, never feeling that your humanity gives you privilege.

 

This production sparkles and moves at so rapid a pace one cannot believe over two hours have passed since the play began.   Timothy Douglas’s direction is a masterpiece of movement and staging.  The men co-ordinate their actions across the stage as if in a macabre dance.  As their dialogue bounces off one another, we relive their hopes, their disappointments and we ache for them.  We watch in terror as they deceive themselves and each other leading them both to their own inevitable destruction.

 

I realize that I’m black, but I like to be viewed

as a person, and this is everybody’s wish.
Michael Jordan

 

Topdog/Underdog continues through Oct. 28.

Marin Theatre Company, 397 Miller Ave., Mill Valley.

Tickets  $36-$57. (415) 388-5208. www.marintheatre.org.

 

 

 

 

 

 

SPEED THE PLOW

David Mamet

Directed by Carole Robinson & Christian Phillips

Starring Joseph Napoli, Dean Shreiner & Sydney Gamble

Actor’s Theatre never fails to amaze me.  Christian Phillips manages by some miracle of talent and determination to put up truly compelling productions of American classics that speak to every generation.  He does this  on a minuscule budget in a tiny, spare theater void of any pretentious décor.

 

In this production of SPEED THE PLOW, he and his co-director Carole Robinson have gone far beyond their previous successes.  Their interpretation of David Mamet’s classic tale of unscrupulous greed and ambition has elevated this excellent script into a work of art that cannot help but mesmerize with its rapid fire dialogue across a stark almost empty stage. There is very little movement on stage, but every gesture makes an impact.   The program notes tell us that “Mamet’s plays often deal with the decline of morality in a world which as become an emotional and spiritual wasteland,” and the bleak stage with its bare walls is the ideal setting for a play whose central theme is how easily our souls are bought . All three characters in the play are merciless and narcissistic human beings  without a shred of compassion for one another.

 

Let us talk first about the actors.  It is hard to believe that these three people are not among the top performers in the bay area, so professional were the interpretations of their characters.  Dean Shreiner’s Bobby Gould is right on the mark.  He is a self-serving, greedy movie producer whose eye is always on profit at the expense of art.  As the play develops, we see beneath his brittle crust to the insecure, needy man beneath.    When, in the third act, we realize he has succumbed to Karen (Sydney Gamble)’s seduction, he says, “She understands that I suffer,” and his persona visibly softens.  The audience can see his vulnerability and feel his desperate need to do something “good” with his life. ”You look forward to your life and you think it’s never going to happen.  Deep down inside I never thought it would,” he says.

 

And Charlie (Joe Napoli)  replies “You’re a whore, Bob.” And he is right. The reality is that Bobby has compensated for that need to be special by being rapacious and hard- nosed in an industry where sentimentality is a death knoll.

 

Joe Napoli’s Charlie is perfection times ten.  His verbal pace is amazing, his expressions validate his words and his presence on the stage is mesmerizing.  He obviously sees himself as he really is and he likes his image.  ”If I’m just a slave to commerce, I’m nothing…” because for him, the selling and making movies is an exciting and dangerous game that he intends to win no matter what the cost. “We all hope,” he tells Charlie.  “That’s what keeps us alive.”

 

Sydney Gamble is a student at The Academy of Art in San Francisco but in this production she has the professional polish of an actress twice her age and four times her experience.  Her Karen combines an innocence with a hard core that is fascinating to watch and always believable.  When she visits Bobby to talk about the vapid script she just read, one senses that she knows as well as he does that it is not commercial. Her purpose in going to his flat was to better herself, not to report on the script.  She  has set her sights on producing that film with him and so she hits him where he is weakest: his self esteem.  “We are all frightened, she says.  “I listened to your heart and I saw you.  You were put in the world to make movies people need to see.“ (In direct contrast to Charlie’s pronouncement in the first act when he tells Bobby, ”Your job is to make movies that make money.”)

 

Karen knows she has scored a hit with Bobby when she appeals to his better self and she pursues her advantage by telling him she knew why he asked her to his apartment and she is willing to pay the price.  She knows it will get her exactly what she wants.  She says, “You asked me to come.  Here I am.”

 

There is not a trace of the coquette in her interpretation of her role.  Her speech seems innocent and altruistic and yet everyone in the audience knows exactly what she is.  We see in her very presence that she has a goal and that goal will serve her purpose, alone.   That is acting taken to its best level.

 

“When the curtain falls on this short and unsparing study of sharks in the shallows of the movie industry, it’s as if you had stepped off a world-class roller coaster. The ride was over before you knew it, but you’re too dizzy and exhilarated to think you didn’t get your money’s worth,” says Ben Brantley in his New York Times review of the production of the play in 2008 on Broadway.  “The slangy, zingy patter of exaggerated insult and tribute swapped by the studio executives Bobby Gould and Charlie Fox isn’t just air filler; it’s the existential warp and woof of their lives. ….”Speed-the-Plow” is about what happens when the shiny bubble produced by this talk is punctured by someone who doesn’t speak the language.”

 

And that sums up this Actors Theatre production, as well.  It is a polished, glistening gem of a play that shows us what we are beneath the veneer we assume in public.  Mamet sees us all as base creatures ready to sell every value for a pot of gold.  One walks out of one of his plays furious at the human condition and perhaps it is that fury…and that fury alone…that will spur us on to make ourselves better.

 

If you love theater, you will want to se this production of SPEED THE PLOW again and again.  It is everything fine dramatization should be from the first words spoken on that stage until the last.

 

Plays until November 10th, 2012; Wednesdays through Saturdays at 8pm.

Venue: Actors Theatre of San Francisco, 855 Bush St, Between Taylor and Mason

Box Office: (415) 345-1287 or online at DramaList.com

Tickets: General: $38, Students & Seniors: $26

 

 

SLEEPWALK WITH ME

Directed by Mike Birbiglia

Starring Mike Birbiglia and Lauren Ambrose

 

Being in a relationship is a full time job

So don’t apply if you’re not ready

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I am a stand up comic.  I have been fighting to succeed in this very challenging profession for eight years and I am finally seeing hope.  So much of this movie rang true that it was actually painful to see.  Matt (Mike Birbiglia) wants to do stand up comedy because he can’t seem to succeed at anything else.  He has two big problems:  He has lousy material and he isn’t funny.  One would think that would be enough to discourage him from pursuing this very low paying often thankless job….but no…as his agent (Sondra James) tells him, “You don’t have to be funny…you just have to get booked.”

 

And she is right.  One of the most telling lines in the play and the most real is the “veteran” comedian(Marc Maron) who tells Matt (Mike Birbiglia) how disgusted he is that comedians who have no jokes and never get laughs are rising to the top, while he is struggling to get at least some gigs that pay.  This couldn’t be a more accurate description of this very difficult profession.

 

No one realizes how difficult it is to make a group of strangers laugh at something you think is hilarious.  When you are on that stage, the audience judges every word and all too often comedians simply do not listen to the response they get.  They refuse to admit that no one laughed at any of their jokes and indeed some people actually fell asleep.  Matt is one of those comedians. One laugh in the midst of 20 minutes of silence,  is all he needs to keep him plugging away at his new found career.  And somehow, some way, he manages to get paying gigs to sustain him.

 

Even as his comedy is improving (but not by much) he is overwhelmed with doubt about committing to an 8 year relationship with the adorable and very sweet Lauren Ambrose.  Just before he is about to break up with her, he reminds the audience in the ongoing narrative that holds the shaky plot together, “Before I tell you this part of the story, I want to remind you that you’re on my side.”

 

Perhaps some of us are.  Birbiglia’s persona is irresistible and his plight is acerbated by the severe sleeping disorder that he ignores.   He acts out his night mares and until the night he crashes through a window of his hotel room, he refuses to do anything to help himself.    His father’s (James Rebhorn) determination to get him properly diagnosed was a bit overbearing to me and his ditzy mother (Carol Kane) did not convince me that she was real.  Birbiglia and Ambrose carry the film and it is their charm that keeps our interest until the all too predictable end.

 

This is a very lightweight film, but there is something so real about the characters that the action holds our attention.   I thought it was charming, but then I too am fighting to become a recognized stand-up comedian and I know how all-consuming that can be.   I am not so sure it would hold together for someone not so involved in the field.