Joe Cillo

620 words By ROSINE REYNOLDS

This “Tuna” Bites Back
Tuna, Texas is a fictional small town with a small town’s closeness. However, this community is not the pies- and-picket fences of Andy’s Mayberry, Hank Hills’ Arlen, Keillor’s Lake Woebegone or anyplace in “Our Town.” Tuna is more tumbleweed and barbed wire.
This town starts its mornings with local news from radio OKKK, delivered by veteran newscasters Thurston Wheelis and Arles Struvie. Today’s headline concerns the death of an important citizen, Judge Bruckner, beloved for being the judge who ordered the most hangings. The judge was found wearing a women’s bikini bathing suit. (This story will be corrected later as to the kind of swim suit it was.)
There follows a commercial from Didi’s Used Weapons, which, even though used, are “absolutely guaranteed to kill.” A standard Texas weather report follows, predicting “rain from all directions,” a dust storm, locusts and Tropical Storm Luther.
We then get a close-up look into the Buford household, where Mrs. Buford is being interviewed about her work on the Censorship Committee. The Committee objects to “Roots” in the public schools, saying that it “only shows one side of the slavery issue.” “Romeo and Juliet” is also on their list because of its “rampant disregard for parental authority and teenaged sex.”
But all is not harmony in Tuna. Many townspeople are at odds with the local animal lover, Petey Fisk of the Humane Society. (Petey has nightmares all through hunting season.) Mrs. Pearl Burras loves animals too, as long as they’re chickens, which she defends with modern science. Mrs. Buford doesn’t love animals as much as she used to before her Jody began collecting dogs. But Jody’s sister Charleen is having a personal crisis because she didn’t make cheerleader, and now she’s a senior.
There is, of course, a church, and the Rev. Spikes arrives to deliver a one-size-fits-all eulogy for the Judge. The Deity is also called upon for various needs throughout the story.
A genuine Texan, Linda Dunn, directed “Greater Tuna” for the finale of Ross Valley Players’ 82nd season. Its spoofs are, she says, “all these things I grew up around.” And it was on a visit back to the Lone Star State to see her mom that Ms. Dunn saw a production of “Greater Tuna” with more than two in the cast.
Originally created by three men – Jaston Williams, Joe Sears and Ed Howard — the show’s twenty characters were played by just Williams and Sears, each taking on multiple roles. The show debuted in Austin in 1981 and went on to become first in a series of four. It has since developed a loyal audience, even having an online General Store with its own merchandise.
Ross Valley Players’ version uses a cast of seven, including a number of recognizable names. Jim Dunn plays newscaster Thurston Wheelis as well as Elmer Watkins. Wood Lockhart is his partner, Arles Struvie, but is also Didi Snavely, the weapons saleslady. News banter between Wheelis and Struvie are highlights of the show.
The versatile Steven Price carries five parts, only four of whom are human. Robyn Grahn plays all the Bumiller children. Tom Hudgens (another Texan) is both the beleaguered Petey Fisk and the very proper church lady, Vera Carp. Jeffrey Taylor portrays three townspeople, including the Sheriff, and Javier Alarcon plays four others.
Michael A. Berg costumes all these people right down to the slip showing and the ear-flap hats.
“Greater Tuna” will be at The Barn Theater in the Marin Art & Garden Center, Ross, through Aug. 12. Thursday performances are at 7:30; Friday and Saturday shows are at 8 p.m., and Sundays at 2 p.m. For complete information and ticket prices, see www.rossvalleyplayers.com, and for reservations, call 456-9555, ext. 1.

Joe Cillo

www.forallevents.com/

“King John” – Good Play about a Bad Guy

Just as hurricane names are retired after they cause devastation, the name John
seems to be off-limits for British kings. One John was plenty. This was the same king who usurped his brother’s throne while Richard was on the Crusades and the same who harried Robin Hood. He’s also the king who was forced to sign the Magna Carta in 1215 when his over-taxed barons demanded their “ancient liberties” back.

Marin Shakespeare’s Managing Director, Lesley Currier, has revived the Bard’s seldom-seen “King John” with a dynamic blend of fine acting and history. To appreciate this production fully, be sure to read Ms. Currier’s program notes before the action begins.

John has succeeded his popular brother, Richard Lionheart — killed in France by a crossbow — and is receiving an ultimatum sent by Philip, King of France, to relinquish all English claims to French territory. John refuses, though war between the two countries is sure to result. The ambassador leaves, and a pair of brothers arrives, one of whom claims to be King Richard’s illegitimate son. John’s mother, Elinor, sees the resemblance, and the older brother is knighted Sir Richard. He’s eager for the fight.

Back in France, King Philip’s ambassador delivers the bad news that England will not negotiate, and war is imminent. The court shelters young Arthur, son of John’s older brother Geffrey, and his devoted mother Constance, Geffrey’s widow.

(Those who are keeping score can see that there are now three possible claimants to the throne. Will there be more?)

A full-scale war erupts around the amphitheatre, after which it’s agreed that John’s niece, Lady Blanch, should marry Lewis, the French Dauphin; Arthur will be given a land grant as a consolation prize. Sir Richard, who has taken a fancy to Blanch, calls this peace agreement “most base and vile.” Everyone’s taking sides. Austria switches its allegiance to England; Cardinal Pandulph, the Pope’s emissary from Rome, is turned away, but first he excommunicates John and warns that France must not become his ally. King Philip chooses to remain with the Church, and the fight continues.

Shakespeare, by all accounts, never traveled, so it’s pardonable that he might have thought France and England were closer neighbors. But here’s where the Director’s program notes are essential.

Elizabethan audiences were proudly English and disdainful of foreigners. Besides, Gloriana herself might be in the audience. So Shakespeare’s French are shown as foppish and arrogant, his Austrian’s a brute in animal skins, and his Catholic emissary is deceitful. This way, even though King John is known to be a bad guy, he’s not as bad as the others.

There are thirty-three in the cast, and the ensemble playing is seamless. Scott Coopwood is a masterful King John, chilling in his conversations with Hubert (James Hiser.) Barry Kraft plays the beleaguered French King, torn between his love of country and this duty to the Church. Steven Muterspaugh portrays the Cardinal, accurately predicting John’s end. Liz Sklar, mother to young Arthur, holds the audience with her grief when Arthur’s been spirited away to England, and Erik MacRay is the ambitious Sir Richard.

And yes, there is another heir. In a wonderful concluding scene, Sir Richard will deliver the crown, and the Plantagenets will be redeemed.

“King John” plays at the Forest Meadows Amphitheatre in Dominican University, San Rafael in repertory with “Midsummer Night’s Dream” through Aug. 12. Parking and restroom facilities have been remodeled and greatly improved since last season. The amphitheatre is still outdoors, though, so playgoers should dress for the weather.

Ticket prices range from zero (under 18 on Family Day matinees) to $22. For complete information or reservations, please see www.marinshakespeare.org or call the box office, 499-4488.

Joe Cillo

www.forallevents.com/

To close its 45th season, Marin Theatre Company has assembled a load of big talent: Producing Director Ryan Rilette, four well-matched Equity actors and a script by Parisian playwright Yasmina Reza, who based this play, “God of Carnage,” on an incident from her son’s teens. It’s a quick (75 minutes) two-handed slap to the audience that builds fast and doesn’t let down until the final minutes.

At the outset, two couples are seated in the Novaks’ apartment, and Veronica Novak opens with, “So this is our statement.” These people are transacting some kind of business, and as the conversation continues – with interruptions and amendments — it’s clear that they are not friends.

The Raleighs’ son Benjamin has fought with young Henry Novak and has broken two of his teeth with a stick. (“Should we say Benjamin was ‘armed’ with the stick, or should we say ‘equipped?’) Bravado was probably involved, but isn’t bravado a type of courage? This is not the type of thing one expects in Cobble Hill Park, which is always so safe, not like Whitman Park.

Alan Raleigh’s cell phone makes the first of many intrusions. Alan’s an attorney whose client, a pharmaceutical company, has discovered an unfortunate side effect from one of its medications just before the shareholders’ annual meeting. Alan’s concerned about insurance coverage in case of litigation.

All agree that Benjamin should apologize to Henry, though Alan chuckles that their son is “a savage.” His wife affirms that Alan has never been “a stroller dad.” Veronica, slipping automatically into her hostess role, offers clafouti and coffee, explaining the secret of combining pears and apples together, then asks if young Benjamin understands that he’s “disfigured” his playmate.

There is talk of a gang; there is talk of a snitch. And there is a genuine gut reaction from Annette Raleigh shortly after her husband gets another phone call and asks for the definition of ataxia.

These four never leave the stage, but outsiders influence the conversation: calls from Alan’s office, calls from Michael Novak’s mother (who might be taking the suspect medication,) and concerns about Nibbles, the missing pet hamster.

Unfortunately, a bottle of rum is brought out. This veers “God of Carnage” into “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf” territory, in which the characters drink and bicker and nobody leaves. One final phone call turns the mood and suggests that the carnage is mopping up.

Ryan Rillette has done a brilliant job of moving the players around the stage to indicate their shifting loyalties. Stacy Ross as Veronica Novak performs both the best tantrum and the most tender scene in the play. Remi Sandri shows her husband Michael living out his fantasy of himself as a combination of Spartacus and John Wayne.

Warren David Keith as Alan Raleigh depicts the perfect successful man who’s also a social embarrassment, and Rachel Harker’s Annette gets an audience cheer when she takes charge of her husband’s cell phone.

Meg Neville has costumed the characters in family groups: the Novaks are stylishly casual, the Raleighs more formal. Set designer Nina Ball has provided a comfortable, sleek apartment with one brick wall hung with African masks and two vases of blood-red tulips. All these details are significant.

An audience member leaving the theatre behind us was comparing this play with its film counterpart and said, “The movie lags. This one really moves!”

“God of Carnage” will be at the Marin Theatre Company, 397 Miller Avenue in Mill Valley, through June 17, every day but Monday. Tuesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays are at 8:00 p.m., Wednesday is at 7:30 p.m. Matinees are Thursday, June 7 at 1:00 p.m., Saturday, June 16 at 2:00 p.m. and every Sunday at 2:00. Sunday evening performances are at 7:00 p.m.

Joe Cillo

www.forallevents.com/

River City, Iowa has everything a town needs on July 4, 1912: a grocery store, City Hall, livery stable and modest house with a “Piano Lessons” sign in the window. It also has a train downstage and a 14-piece orchestra out of sight in back, so when the train begins to move, we know we’re not in Iowa anymore. We’re on Mt. Tam.

Meredith Willson’s “The Music Man” was a success as soon as it opened on Broadway in 1957, even though it had to compete with “West Side Story” down the street. It won five Tony awards and ran for more than a thousand performances. And the secret to its long success is evident in the opening scene. The combination of songs with setting is superb.

Here’s a train carrying a load of traveling salesmen. The train jounces along the track, smoke billowing from its engine, as the salesmen complain about the handships of their trade in rhythm with the rails: “Whaddaya talk! Whaddaya talk!” and “You gotta know the territory!” Their main complaint is a black sheep salesman known as Harold Hill, whose latest racket is selling uniforms and instruments for an imaginary boys’ band, even though he doesn’t know music, and he doesn’t know the territory. And who is that fellow waving goodbye and getting off in River City?

“The Music Man” contrasts the rascally Hill with the honest and loyal Marian, her deserving family and the rivalries of their town. Hill is outgunned from the start.

This is a love story set to Meredith Willson’s lyrical music and told against Ken Rowland’s lovable-town backdrop. Much is being made of this year’s Mountain Play, as it is director James Dunn’s thirtieth and last. For his finale, this fine director has pulled together a group of seasoned actors from all over the county. Familiar names light up the program: Susan Zelinsky (Marian Paroo,) Stephen Dietz ( Mayor Shinn,) Randy Nazarian (Marcellus Washburn,) Gloria Wood (Mrs. Paroo,) Erika Alstrom (Ethel Toffelmeir,) Sharon Boucher (Eulalie Mackecknie Shinn) and Bob Wilson (Constable Locke.) Robert Moorhead (Harold Hill) has played this part three times in other venues, and even the children are already stage veterans. Brigid O’Brien (Amaryllis) was Scout in “To Kill a Mockingbird” and Jeremy Kaplan (Winthrop Paroo) has performed in seven musicals.

The barbershop quartet and the anvil salesman are additional of-the-period entertainment.
There are 61 cast members, 14 orchestra members, a marching band and a horse in this production.

Backstage, Pat Polen has woven Americana into costumes designed in all variations of red, white and blue. Debra Chambliss leads the band, and Rick Wallace has choreographed the dance numbers.

“The Mountain Play Experience” is exactly that. Audiences take most of their day for this event, and some of them do it every year in groups. Just being in the amphitheatre is part of the fun, but so is the remarkable view over the treetops and down to the Pacific. A few stalwarts hike both ways from Mill Valley, most take the bus at least one way, and some drive. Everybody brings water, a hat and comfortable shoes. The play starts at 2 p.m., but playgoers should plan to arrive at least an hour before. Ticket prices vary from $15 to $40 with no admission for children three and under. Reserved seating and group discounts and more information are available at www.MountainPlay.org.

Because of the approaching fire season, this uplifting show will play only June 3, 10 and 16, and will close June 17, Father’s Day.

On opening day, Jim Dunn did not come out for a curtain call, even though there were calls for “Director! Director!” That clamor will continue. After thirty years on the mountain, Mr. Dunn knows the territory.

Joe Cillo

www.forallevents.com/

Ross Valley Players are producing Tennessee Williams’ “Night of the Iguana” in tribute to the playwright’s 100th birthday last year. Williams’ last visit to The Barn was in 1979 for “The Glass Menagerie,” his first big success. That play won him a Pulitzer. He was thirty-four then.
Two years later, he came up with “Streetcar Named Desire” and then, when he was forty-four, “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” and another Pulitzer. “Night of the Iguana” was produced in 1961, when the playwright was fifty. A number of significant changes had happened in his life by then.

By the ‘60s, Tennessee Williams had come to terms with his own homosexuality and had formed a long partnership with Frank Merlo. He had not overcome his alcoholism, however, and had also developed an increasing dependence on prescription drugs. Merlo developed lung cancer and died in 1963. By the end of the decade, Williams’ brother had him hospitalized for his addictions.
“Night of the Iguana,” reaches back to a 1940 trip to Acapulco in which young Williams bonded with another writer who was also in desperate condition. The notes he took then formed the basis of a short story that eventually became the play.

This work isn’t set in the south, but in Mexico, in the fictional Puerto Barrio. All its characters are troubled. The Rev. Lawrence Shannon is trying to restore himself in the church, maintain sobriety and fend off the advances of Maxine, the innkeeper. Increasingly slovenly, Maxine satisfies her lust with her Mexican houseboys and then complains that they lack discipline.

Prim, ladylike Hannah arrives pushing her grandfather’s wheelchair. Her life is devoted to his needs. “Nonno” is a poet, as was Williams, but he’s almost ninety-eight now. They scratch out a bare existence selling Nonno’s poems and Hannah’s sketches of tourists.

Outside the hotel, honking loudly for attention, is a busload of Baptist female tourists, demanding the comfortable accommodation that Shannon, their tour leader, had promised. One of the women, Charlotte, is only sixteen, and she’s already had an affair with Shannon, for which she expects him to marry her. Charlotte’s chaperone, Miss Fellowes (Sandi Rubay) rages continually and vows reprisals. Further, a big storm is brewing, and a captured iguana, which “tastes like Texas chicken,” is scuffling around below.

Even Tennessee Williams cannot resolve this situation satisfactorily. The play’s ending forecasts itself a long way off.

As Lawrence Shannon, Eric Burke is onstage almost all the time and has an exhausting load of script. We want to like Rev. Shannon, but he makes this impossible when he defends his seduction of Charlotte with, “she asked for it.” Maxine (Cat Bish) copes with isolation by being overly upbeat and sloppy, while Hannah (Kristine Ann Lowry,) fits Shannon’s description of her as “a thin, standing-up female Buddha.”

Nonno (Wood Lockhart) seems to dodder more when he wants attention. He recites his poems in a strong voice, especially the epic he’s been working on. Young Charlotte (Kushi Beauchamp) escapes Miss Fellowes long enough to beg Shannon to let her help him.

Jake Latta, the substitute tour guide, is played by Mark Toepfer, Hank, the bus driver, by Richard Kerrigan, and Maxine’s two houseboys by Eric Sadler and Noah Benet.
“Night of the Iguana,” directed by Cris Cassell, will be at The Barn Theatre in the Marin Art & Garden Center, Ross, Thursdays through Sundays until June 17. Thursday performances are at 7:30 p.m., Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m. and Sundays at 2 p.m.
Ticket prices range from $17 to $25. An audience “talk back” with the actors and director will be offered after the matinees on May 27 and June 10.

For complete information, call 456-9555 or see www.rossvalleyplayers.com.

Joe Cillo

www.forallevents.com/