Woody Weingarten

Wine leads to the release of some inner Big Scary Animals at the Masquers Playhouse. From left are Kim Saunders (Rhonda), Joseph Walters (Donald), David Zubiria (Clark), and Duane Lawrence (Marcus). Photo by Mike Padua.

By WOODY WEINGARTEN

It’s easy to forget that human beings are critters — unless you’re seated in the Masquers Playhouse in Point Richmond watching Big, Scary Animals. Then you can’t ignore our baser behaviors and instincts.

If you have any sense of humor at all, you’re apt to spend much of the 90-minute comic drama by Matt Lyle laughing out loud at the dialogue and feral antics of four Homo sapiens, Until the playwright’s “truth bombs” abruptly smack you between the eyes.

The hidden biases and contradictions of each character either ooze or explode in unexpected ways at unexpected moments.

The plotline is simplistic and predictable: A middle-aged, straight white couple relocates to Dallas in 2015, “a simpler time,” to be closer to their granddaughter. But they’ve unintentionally bought into a “gayborhood.”.

Midway through, all hell breaks loose when a polite dinner conversation with their gay black and Latino next-door neighbors deep dive into sensitive subjects — race, sex, sanity, the N- and C- words, and gun control, among others. Director Gabriel A. Ross milks all the bathos possible while ensuring that no potential laugh-line is downplayed.

The entire ensemble cast is superlative, with Kim Saunders standing out as Rhonda, a naïve Christian “cracker” whose inner big, scary animal can be triggered by a single action and a single glass of wine, and David Zbiria as Clark, a flaming, hysterically funny, Latino homosexual whose common sense eventually erases his emotional spasms. Duane Lawrence inhabits the character of Marcus, a serious black college professor whose secrets are bursting to be revealed, paralleling the inner angst and problematic memories of Joseph Walters as Donald, whose wife repeatedly labels him as stupid.

Consoling Joseph Walters (Donald, center) are Kim Saunders (Rhonda) and Tristan Rodriguez (Ronnie). Photo by Mike Padua.

Two others — Natalie Ford as Sophia, a 20ish black “slut” who tries to use her psych-major tools at inappropriate times, and Tristan Rodriguez as Ronnie, the straight couple’s “troubled” son who’s gently being seduced by Sophia — do the most with under-developed roles.

The audience at a Sunday matinee rocked the small theater with laughter and expressed its consummate pleasure during a 30-minute Talk-Back session afterward. One theatergoer summed up the show this way: “It was heavy butreally funny.” Another said, “My eyes are still wet.”

The director, meanwhile, said he thought one takeaway from the provocative show should be, “There’s a good chance that you have something in common with the person you despise.”

Big, Scary Animals will run at the Masquers Playhouse, 105 Park Place, Point Richmond, through Sept. 28. Tickets: $30 to $35. Information: 510-232-3888 or info@masquers.org.

Sherwood “Woody” Weingarten, a longtime voting member of the San Francisco Bay Area Theater Critics Circle and the author of four books, can be contacted by email at voodee@sbcglobal.net or on his websites, https://woodyweingarten.com and https://vitalitypress.com.

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Don (Howard Swain, center) reacts to livestream comments projected above in Eureka Day at the Marin Theatre while (from left) Suzanne (Lisa Anne Porter), Carina (Leontyne Mbele-Mbong), Eli (Teddy Spencer), and Meiko (Charisse Loriaux) look on. Photo by David Allen.

By WOODY WEINGARTEN

To call Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s Thursday appearance before the Senate Finance Committee’s three-hour hearing contentious would be a monumental understatement.

Multiple Democrat and Republican senators charged him with making non-logical, false, and misleading claims about vaccines. The Secretary of Health and Human Services futilely struggled to pull answers out of his back pocket.

Humor: Absent.

Eureka Day, a play that also tackles the chasm between vax and not vax, uses satire to make you laugh louder and longer than you’ve ever done before in a theater during a single scene.

Laughter: Infectious.

Also contagious in the 105-minute play is a 15-student outbreak of mumps that ultimately triggers a debate about whether to mandate vaccinations at a private, progressive Berkeley elementary school where white privilege blankets the place.

A five-member executive committee keeps trying to reach a mandatory consensus when consensus is light years away.

The fast-paced comedy, which debuted in 2018 at the Aurora Theatre in Berkeley, is being partnered by that company at the Marin Theater in Mill Valley — despite the Aurora having to cancel its current East Bay season because of a money drain.

The Marin production’s being directed masterfully by Josh Costello, Aurora’s artistic director who also held the reins for the original version.

A caveat: The hilarious scene, featuring livestream comments projected on the rear wall of the set, is abruptly followed by an incredibly heavy change of pace (even though it’s sandwiched by many other moments that are less funny yet still quite amusing).

Each of the five main actors in the ensemble cast is phenomenal.

Howard Swain, who’s transcended so many roles in so many Bay Area venues that if you blink, you might find he’s already booked for 17 more, becomes Don, school executive committee leader with tangled white hair and white beard who desperately quashes potential squabbles. On occasion, he’ll read an indecipherable bit of prose or poetry to the others in a hopeful but valueless teaching moment.

Swain is in the minority, a performer who wasn’t plucked out of the original for this rendition. Ditto Leontyne Mbele-Mbong (Carina).

Eli (Teddy Spencer) embraces Meiko (Charisse Loriaux) amid emotional and intellectual turmoil. Photo by David Allen.

But the other three main characters — Charisse Loriaux (Meiko), Lisa Anne Porter (Suzanne), and Teddy Spencer (Eli) — are all vets of the original show. Clearly, the time between the first production and the revival hasn’t in the least diminished their mastery of their parts. Their range of emotions, their skill at showing feelings with a nuanced look or gesture, their ability to have learned about four zillion words from the script without blowing any, all that may have honed their chops.

One lady leaving the first row could be overheard to put it succinctly: “The cast is perfect!”

Another perfect fit is the jazz between scenes (unless, of course, you’re as anti-jazz as one character is anti-vax).

Eureka Day, which won the 2025 Tony for best revival for its Broadway run, has been performed in Austria, South Australia, and the United Kingdom.

The playwright, Jonathan Spector, a Berkeley boy, has made a few changes since his first effort. However, he’s kept everyone on stage skirting issues and being afraid of saying anything that another exec committee member might take offense at — and he’s inserted tons of swearing and characters interrupting and talking over each other like most real folks do.

That noisy writing strategy might resemble David Mamet’s style but Spector’s is funnier.

Eureka Day will run at the Marin Theatre, 397 Miller Ave., Mill Valley, through Sept. 21. Tickets: $38 to $89 (plus $6 handling fee). Info: 415-388-5208 or www.marintheatre.org.

Sherwood “Woody” Weingarten, a longtime voting member of the San Francisco Bay Area Theater Critics Circle and the author of four books, can be contacted by email at voodee@sbcglobal.net or on his websites, https://woodyweingarten.com and https://vitalitypress.com.

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L-R, Marsha von Broek, Mary Katherine Patterson and Helen Kim are funny in “Into the Breeches,” onstage at Masquers Playhouse in Point Richmond through Aug. 3. (Mike Padua via Bay City News)

By Woody Weingarten

Insert amateur thespians into a modernized World War II version of a Shakespeare play with an all-female cast and what do you get?

A possible hit for the play-within-a-play — and a barrelful of big laughs for the Masquers Playhouse audience in Point Richmond.

L-R, Katharine Otis and Dana Lewenthal appear in Masquers Playhouse’s production of the comedy “Into the Breeches,” onstage through Aug. 3 in Point Richmond. (Mark Decker via Bay City News)

Katharine Otis does far less schtick and thereby gets fewer guffaws as Maggie Dalton, but she ably leads the cast as the wife of the absentee director (he’s off to the front, as are most of the women’s mates). She’s sensitive but bold, brandishing a cerebral weapon for her personal, newly spawned battle to get women equal pay (and, in the process, rid herself of being labeled her husband’s parrot).

The individual jokes, not incidentally, take a back seat to a farcical scene about walking like a man that features codpieces.

There’s a smirk hidden in the “Into the Breeches” title: King Henry V’s battle cry was, according to Willie the Shakes, “Once more, into the breach.” Here, the play on words implies women climbing into men’s trousers.

Mostly upbeat, the charming play by George Brant (with many added references to East Bay locations that trigger wild applause and shouts of “yay”), also delves adroitly if superficially into issues of race, sexual discrimination, misogyny and family separation.

The full cast is skillful: Dana Lewenthal plays a narcissistic but forgiving diva Celeste Fielding, who opts to play Cinderella rather than having to inhabit a character her own age; Alana Wagner as Ida Green, a Black costume designer who aims to snap a racial barrier; Helen Kim as Grace Richards, a newcomer to town who’s terrified her husband wouldn’t approve of her acting; Mary Katherine Patterson as June Bennett, a bike-riding ingenue who wants to become a symbol of patriotism and war efforts; and Chris Harper as Winifred’s board president husband, Ellsworth, who prefers to block progress but folds under pressure.

L-R, Gregory Lynch and Alana Wagner appear in Masquers Playhouse’s fun production of “Into the Breeches.” (Mark Decker via Bay City News)

The Masquers production is a bit quirky. Some of the props on the spare set are covered in material (looks like sheets) that’s removed only when the particular item is needed.

Director Marilyn Langbehn manages to neatly balance its comedy and heart.

Theatergoers appreciated the perfection of the recorded WWII music playing between scenes and the two acts. After the play, one patron said, “I came with trepidation because I’m not a fan of Shakespeare, but I shouldn’t have worried because the short excerpts didn’t get in the way of my enjoying all the comedy.”

And a woman in the first row said she enjoyed the show because the actors were “real people” who acted like real people.

“Into the Breeches” runs through Aug. 3 at the Masquers Playhouse, 105 Park Place, Point Richmond. Tickets are $15 $35 at www.masquers.org. 

Contact Sherwood “Woody” Weingarten, a member of the San Francisco Bay Area Theater Critics Circle and author of four books, at voodee@sbcglobal.net, https://woodyweingarten.comand https://vitalitypress.com.

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Empathy coach Sofia (Sam Jackson, right) looks on as Jon (Joseph O’Malley, left), Jordan (Phil Wong, second from left) and Howie (Max Forman-Mullin) laugh in Do You Feel Anger? Photo by David Allen.

By WOODY WEINGARTEN

If you think the phrases “non-reciprocal blowjob,” “piss chart,” and “life is an oblong” are inherently funny and might be even funnier if they’re each repeated about 49 times in 90 minutes, go see Do You Feel Anger? at the Marin Theatre.

If you believe several adult characters acting like acting-out, clueless toddlers crammed into an office playpen of debt collectors might be funny in a slapschtick, farcical way, do go.

And if you consider mysterious or untethered themes, an O. Henry ending, a marvelous secondary set spotlighting three toilets, or good lighting and sound effects between scenes as items that might satisfy your cerebral or sexual needs, go.

A recent gray-haired audience liked the show’s office absurdities enough to applaud more than a little when it was over, enough to periodically chuckle quietly or even cackle or guffaw on rare occasion. On the other hand, a woman in the front row volunteered a three-word stinger: “That was painful!”

The plot? Sofia is an empathy coach newly hired to buoy the consciousness of three workers drawn by playwright Mara Nelson-Greenberg as somewhere between the classic personas of TV’s hilarious satire, The Office, and David Mamet’s biting dark satire, Glengarry Glen Ross.

The staff is overseen by a fourth cartoonish character, an office manager who doesn’t know what a woman’s period is and who joins the others in the belief that empathy is a bird.

Eva (intentionally played by linda maria giron with a grating ever-screechy voice and theater-shaking laugh) keeps getting mugged, or is delusional about it, or maybe both, and is obsessed with being a mermaid.

Jordan (left) and Howie goof around while Sofia watches. Photo by David Allen.

Howie (exquisitely portrayed by Max Forman-Mullin as a macho man-child whose anger is always on the brink and whose horniness is almost always on display) is physically and verbally over the top.

Jordan (a Phil Wong tour de farce distortion whose bug-eyes are aways in humorous motion) joins Howie as a resident misogynist.

Jon, the manager who’s interested only in having his mandated documentation signed by Sofia even if she’s unsuccessful, is skillfully delivered by lanky Joseph O’Malley with legs that jerk and slide like a ballet dancer on coke.

Jesse Caldwell, by the way, is excellent in his cameo monologue as Marcus, a geezer bomber-wannabe who’s seemingly lost the key to his dementia ward.

And Atosa Babaoff acquits herself well in dual roles, that of Janie, a woman who’s permanently ensconced in the bathroom, and Sofia’s long-suffering mom who’s featured in a parallel storyline that ultimately ties some stuff together.

It should be noted that there’s a major disconnect between the entire cast of crazies and Sam Jackson, who inhabits Sofia with a serious insatiable need to please. That gap might have been shortened.

Director Becca Wolff might also have sliced the text a bit or added an intermission; the workplace comedy feels a tad long in spite of being timed at an hour and a half.

All the acting’s worth seeing and there are, to be sure, a few wonderful lines. Such as “Everyone’s starting to say the clitoris is a hoax.”

Not incidentally, a “piss chart” is never explained in the show but one Google keystroke will instantly indicate that it’s used as an unclear metaphor based on its definition of a color map designed to illustrate hydration and urine levels. Who knew?

Do You Feel Anger? Will play at the Marin Theater, 397 Miller Ave., Mill Valley, through June 29. Tickets: $47 to $85. Information: 341-388-5200 or info@marintheatre.org.

Sherwood “Woody” Weingarten, a longtime voting member of the San Francisco Bay Area Theater Critics Circle and the author of four books, can be contacted by email at voodee@sbcglobal.net or on his websites, https://woodyweingarten.com and https://vitalitypress.com.

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Odd angles are a highlight of Mark Morris’ “Pepperland” at Zellerbach Hall in Berkeley. Photo by Frank Wing/Cal Performances.

By WOODY WEINGARTEN

A black man scurries onstage and is introduced to the audience as white science giant Albert Einstein, only one of multiple racial- and gender-bending flashes and same-sex moves in a 12-part, 60-minute ballet, “Pepperland.”

The squatting dancer then mimics a classic photo of Einstein by sticking out his tongue and wiggling his brows.

A brunette Marilyn Monroe prances. Shirley Temple preens. So does Sonny Liston. They’re joined by other celebrities, all extracted from the cover montage of The Beatles’ groundbreaking concept album, “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” to which the ballet pays homage.

The life-size cartoons specifically flesh out “Magna Carta,” one of five original pieces by arranger/composer Ethan Iverson squeezed between seven Fab Four tunes used in the Mark Morris creation at Zellerbach Hall in Berkeley.

“Pepperland” features oblique postures. Photo by Frank Wing/Cal Performances. 

Morris’ out-of-the-box choreography — highlighted by dancers repeatedly standing and walking at virtually impossible angles, frequent three-person lifts and dancers melting/collapsing onto the floor, groupings of two and four, and frequent insertions of visual humor — guarantees to put a grin on your face and to keep it there.

The music itself is another story.

Fusion — which combined jazz harmonies and improv with rock, funk, and rhythm and blues — hadn’t yet become “the thing” in 1967. But that’s when The Beatles released their groundbreaking concept album, a whimsical stroke of imagination that superimposed psychedelia and pop onto rock rhythms.

Musical moments later, the term fusion became stretched beyond imagination following trumpeter Miles Davis’ experimentations with electric instruments and rock beats in his jazz.

Ultimately, to virtually everyone’s confusion, public relations flacks started defining fusion as the blending of any two or more genres of music, no matter how disparate, even when the notion of playing five tempos simultaneously was a part of the melodic landscape.

Iverson might not be fond of the label either, despite his arrangements rapidly slip-sliding like a roller coaster between slow, mournful blues to almost deafening jazz that features amazing runs on clarinet, sax, and drums.

“Pepperland,” which Morris first mounted in 2017 as a 50th anniversary tribute to the Sgt. Pepper album, was revived this weekend at Zellerbach Hall in Berkeley under the auspices of Cal Performances. It not only merged elements of yesteryear seamlessly, it accomplished that task with light-hearted charm, dark aviator sunglasses, and Elizabeth Kurtzman’s brightly colored Mod-style costumes that couldn’t help but bring to mind 1967’s Summer of Love.

The often quaint and/or oblique dance moves wash, rinse, and repeat, then wash, rinse, and repeat again and again, their consistency playing off the low backdrop of irregular mylar-like pieces that reflect various colors.

Those who came to see unadulterated Beatles would have been disappointed. Iverson’s score, played live by seven musicians (including him on piano), emphasizes vocals by Clinton Curtis and an electric instrument, the theremin, which requires no human touch (though Rob Schwimmer’s body parts hover over it to produce a cornucopia of sound).

Theremin riffs varied, from lovely high-pitched wailings that might potentially evoke tears to screechy chalk-on-blackboard sounds that could trouble eardrums.

Innovative were moments like Iverson’s conversion in “A Day in the Life” of individual vowels into two-note grunting patterns. Amusing, too, was a double-take-inducing move in which one dancer is hidden behind another to create a laughable form.

Mark Morris (left) and Ethan Iverson collaborate on a tribute to The Beatles. Photo by Trevor Izzo/Cal Performances.

Morris seemed genuinely overjoyed Opening Night as he acknowledged with a smile and deep bow that a healthy chunk of the audience was giving his ballet a standing ovation.

“Pepperland” starts with company members in a tight circle smoothly dancing their way into a larger design. The ballet ends similarly, just in reverse. In between are tons of smooth transitions from one grouping to another. And yes, Morris’ flamboyant, carefree, entertaining approach to modern dance does delete much of the edginess and tension in the original Beatles musicology.

What’s left, sometimes, are mugging dancers and an over-all cutesiness with which all you can do is lean back and enjoy.

The Mark Morris Dance Group has one more show at Zellerbach Hall in Berkeley, this weekend — at 3 p.m. today. Info: 510-642-9988 or https://calperformances.org. Upcoming Cal Performances include the June 21 roots music of Rhiannon Giddens and The Old-Time Revue.

Sherwood “Woody” Weingarten, a longtime member of the San Francisco Bay Area Theater Critics Circle and the author of four books, can be contacted by email at voodee@sbcglobal.net or on his websites, https://woodyweingarten.com and https://vitalitypress.com.

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In living tableau of painting by Artemisia Gentileschi (Emily Anderson, right) in Marin Theatre’s It’s True, It’s True, It’s True, the artist and Judith (Alicia M. P. Nelson. left) behead Holofernes (Maggie Mason). All photos by David Allen.[yasr_overall_rating]

By WOODY WEINGARTEN

Rape.

That should be as offensive as any other four-letter word in the English language today, despite many of our society’s males consistently downplaying it.

Still, it was a tad worse 400 years ago.

At least that’s what’s displayed in It’s True, It’s True, It’s True, a dramatic polemic of sorts that runs at the Marin Theatre through May 4.

The play does focus on a positive theme — 15-year-old Baroque artist Artemisia Gentileschi using her paints and canvas to display her anger and pain and to get a taste of revenge for being sexually assaulted.

It’s a true tale.

Playwrights Ellice Stevens and Billy Barrett — and especially director Rebecca Wear — have mainly through exaggeration inserted just enough humor to keep the women in the audience in their seats instead of jumping up and screaming demands of female empowerment.

Elders (Keiko Shimosato Carreiro, left) and Maggie Mason) burst onto the scene. Behind them is a sign with an ironic motto in Latin that translates to “All are equal in the eyes of the law.”

Rock music loud enough to obscure virtually all lyrics pops up at various times, played and sung at top decibels by the all-female Actors Equity cast of four. That, along with costumes by Pamela Rodriguez Montero that merge 1612 courtroom attire and 2025 black leather-and-glitz punk band garb, makes some moments jagged because the two timeframes don’t fit together seamlessly.

About a third of the script — a reenactment of a real-life he-said, she-said courtroom drama — stems from verbatim records, translated into modern English that might be spewed by street people in Berkeley, that had been preserved (though the final pages were lost).

Emily Anderson plays Artemisia Gentileschi, the victim, one moment her face flashing rage at being raped, the next flaunting a satirical exuberance from a male perspective. Clearly, she can be demure or filled with piss and vinegar.

Anderson is exceptionally potent when she becomes part of living tableaus depicting two of the Baroque artist’s paintings (“Judith Slaying Holofernes” and “Susanna and the Elders”). In those moments, she’s aided significantly by the astonishing lighting of Mikiko Uesugi and resounding sound effects by Matt Stines.

Anderson is superb, too, in a scene where she, totally frustrated, poignantly repeats the phrase “It’s true,” dozens of times.

Maggie Mason, in the gender-bending role of Renaissance Italian painter Agostino Tassi, is appropriately lecherous, cocky, and snarky — and is as apt to slyly insert into his testimony his credentials as staff artist for the Pope as he is to deny any culpability as a rapist.

The judge (Alicia M. P. Nelson, rear) listens to testimony of Tuzia, Artemisia’s confidante (Keiko Shimosato Carreiro).

As the black-robed judge, another male part, Alicia M.P. Nelson is pointedly personality-less, a sharp contrast to when she shows her acting range in several minor roles and her energy as the band’s lead singer.

The hour and a quarter show dissolves the century gap to reveal a plotline reflecting how gender equality is absent, how biased judges can allow victims to become de facto defendants, and how repeated lies can erase truth. Do those concepts replicate today’s headlines? Yes.

The performance also reveals not only how enemies are enemies but how so-called friends may not be trustworthy either. Keko Shimosato Carreiro portrays Donna Tuzia, supposed confidante to Artemisia, who wavers on the stand trying to gain favor with both sides. She flails her arms a lot.

It’s True, It’s True, It’s True is a flawed but fascinating experimental effort filled with content that some folks may dislike: the applying of thumb screws to Artemisia;; the grisly display of beheading and sex scenes (oral, anal, and self); the close-up look at naked breasts.

But those eager for something different, those willing to check out this story about the first woman to enter the Accademia delle Arti del Disegno in Florence in spite of having been slut-shamed and having had to battle gender inequality again and again, will appreciate having their brain massaged.

Even if the actors occasionally drop lines, and the set is practically non-existent.

Think rape. Think the #MeToo movement. Think a world of alternative facts. Think of yourself or your sister or your daughter. Think. Then shudder.

It’s True, It’s True, It’s True runs in the 99-seat Lieberman Theater in the Marin Theater, 397 Miller Ave., Mill Valley, through May 4. Tickets: $10 to $81 (plus $6 handling fee per total order). Info: https://www.marintheatre.org or 415-388-5208.

Sherwood “Woody” Weingarten, a longtime member of the San Francisco Bay Area Theater Critics Circle and the author of four books, can be contacted by email at voodee@sbcglobal.net or on his websites, https://woodyweingarten.com and https://vitalitypress.com.

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Members of the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre ensemble display their versatility. Stock photo by Dario Calmese.

By WOODY WEINGARTEN

Spirituality, grace, energy.

Those elements have since 1958 been trademarks of the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre but never more so than now.

The company’s entire three-part Program C, which Cal Performances staged last week at Zellerbach Hall in Berkeley, leaned more heavily on spirituality than usual — but in no way to the detriment of the other two components.

The program ended with “Revelations,’ the glorious signature piece that closes so many Ailey shows and is, of course, based on a series of Negro spirituals. But “Sacred Songs” (the emotional, sometimes frenzied opener) and “Many Angels” (danced lusciously with traditional dance movements to the solemn music of Gustav Mahler) both also provided a sense of connection to something greater than ordinary men and women.

In the first and third parts particularly, the dancers were so limber, so fluid, that it appeared they might be minus some bones.

And never did theatergoers need be sure their interpretation of the wonderment on stage (including verbal injections of Jesus, the Lord, and Elijah) were correct; it was sufficient to appreciate the seemingly flawless skill of the performers,

The audience was so enthusiastic it frequently interjected bursts of loud applause topped off with spasmodic cheering.

“Sacred Songs,” a Bay Area premiere whose diverse elements were a cornucopia of energy, fluttering wrists and fingers, and a reaching up to the heavens, featured several scenes so riveting they appeared to last only seconds before a blackout.

Its music — by DuBois AKeen — ranged from extreme softness in “Be Still” to frenzied jazz; garments were rapidly switched from jeans and mesh tops for men to pristine, loose-fitting white for both sexes, but their muted impact was immediately overshadowed by the wild energy, unadulterated smoothness, and synchronicity of the dancers’ movements.

Its choreography by Mathew Rushing ensured the whole stage was used superlatively — so well, in fact, it was impossible for human eyes to take it all in at once. Quickly changing focus from one dancer to another became a necessity, as if one were watching a three-ring circus filled with ballet pros.

One segment of the piece opened with a dancer’s hands moving as if she were playing bongo drums — so realistically you could almost see the instrument that wasn’t there.

“Many Angels,” also a Bay Area premiere, began with dancers on the floor in front of a noteworthy backdrop of clouds with light streaming through them. Both music and dance were a sharp contrast in tone to the rest of the performance. Choreography by Lars Lubovich, who also was responsible for the scenic design, flowed as smoothly as angels’ wings might flap in a celestial breeze.

This segment drew polite clapping and commentary about its soft, pale beauty as opposed to the unbridled tribute-yelling earned by “Revelations,” which brought applause from repeat viewers before the curtain rose.

“Revelations,” a 1960 creation choreographed by Ailey himself and colorfully costumed by Ves Harper, was so spirited that what felt like a third of the audience applauded rhythmically in unison to several of its 10 parts, A multitude of ballet-lovers leapt to their feet to sway and clap during the last one, “Rocka My Soul in the Bosom of Abraham,” which showcased the entire company.

Raucous applause and shouts of joy reverberated earlier when Xavier Mack finished his solo, “I Wanna Be Ready.”

And ultimately the crowd gave an expected standing ovation as the concert concluded, hints of joyous music still resounding in the acoustically superb auditorium.

Dance will be featured in two upcoming shows at Zellerbach Hall in Berkeley, through Cal Performances: from a Brazilian troupe, Grupo Corpo, which blends classical ballet with folk and popular dance, April 25 and 26, and the Mark Morris Dance Group’s tribute to the Beatles’ “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” May 9-11. Info: 510-642-9988 or https://calperformances.org.

Sherwood “Woody” Weingarten, a longtime member of the San Francisco Bay Area Theater Critics Circle and the author of four books, can be contacted by email at voodee@sbcglobal.net or on his websites, https://woodyweingarten.com and https://vitalitypress.com.

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Lawrence Redecker, as crazed Carrier X in “The Boiling: A tale of American nihilism,” stands before a striking projection. Photo by Jay Yamada.

By WOODY WEINGARTEN

If you relish theatrical productions that can merge disparate elements into a unique gel, the Magic Theatre’s The Boiling: A tale of American nihilism might satisfy your appetite.

It’s a complicated, offbeat, wannabe thriller that challenges the mental acuity of its audience, which may be left answerless to a carload of questions.

Major themes include roots and the question of if you can go home again, whether human relationships and identity do change, how personal and community histories can be integrated with today’s beings and events, how to deal with major violence in our lives, and whether science and book-learning can protect us from danger.

Plus, where serene birding fits into all of it.

The world premiere that’s presented by the Magic in conjunction with Campo Santo combines acting that ranges from muted subtlety to emotional outbursts, perfectly inserted music that skips from raucous rock to melancholy softness, and striking video, sound and lighting effects that can startle and delight.

Sunhui Chang’s drama, which jumps back and forth in time and from the Carolinas to Colorado, certainly isn’t linear. But there is a storyline:

Edris Cooper-Anifowoshe (left) and John Brougher are befuddled agents trying to track down a killer virus spreader. Photo by Jay Yamada.

Brian, a Korean American virologist from the Midwest, and Vee, a Southern-bred Black detective linked to the Pacific Northwest, team up as agents of a new government agency to hunt down David, a rampaging nomadic Caucasian carrier of a killer virus labeled “the boiling.”

For those who enjoy stage puzzles that dip into mental masturbation, the play covers several aspects of nihilism, including the concept that the attitude can be a source of despair as well as a catalyst for individual freedom. If you have the patience to look deep enough, you may discover that The Boiling also touches on fundamental nihilistic notions such as life is basically meaningless, without purpose or value; objective moral codes and beliefs don’t exist; and the possibility of knowledge or unbiased truth is nil.

That sounds awfully negative on paper, yet in the skilled hands of the cast of seven, it’s not overpowering but integrated with whatever else is happening onstage — and off, because characters join the chain of events from deep in the seats (and even surprisingly plop down in the front row).

The device of characters reading — in the third person — a book entry that describe themselves and what they’re doing can be seductive. Also alluring is the projection of plot locations in big letters on the stage floor between scenes, perhaps an outgrowth of the author originally conceiving of the slow 95-minute creation as a screenplay.

Jesse Vaughn (front) performs a ritual in “The Boiling” as Jeannine Anderson shuts her eyes in quietude behind him. Photo by Jay Yamada.

Off-putting, unlike a movie or video where the volume can be adjusted by a techie, is the choice by director Ellen Sebastian Chang of having two actors turn their backs to the audience in one long scene, muffling their words despite being mic’d.

From a more positive viewpoint, Lawrence Reducer excels as Carrier X, as do Jeannine Anderson as Miss Lolli (a narrator), and John Brougher as Brian.

All three — part of a metaphoric road trip — help bring the puzzle and story home.   

The Boiling: A Tale of American Nihilism runs at the Magic Theatre, 2 Marina Blvd., Landmark Building C, Suite 260, Fort Mason, in San Francisco, through April 20. Tickets: $35 to $75. Info: 415-441-8822 or https://magictheatre.org

Sherwood “Woody” Weingarten, a longtime member of the San Francisco Bay Area Theater Critics Circle and the author of four books, can be contacted by email at voodee@sbcglobal.net or on his websites, https://woodyweingarten.com and https://vitalitypress.com.

Woody Weingarten

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Evvy Calstrom-March (center, as Sally Bowles) and Stephen Kanaski (also center, as the Emcee) star in Cabaret. (All photos by Katie Wickes)

By WOODY WEINGARTEN

There’s no perfect show, no perfect production. But the Marin Musical Theatre Company’s interpretation of Cabaret comes within a hair’s breadth of reaching those pinnacles.

The best Bay Area theatrical work of the year, perhaps the season, it stars Evvy Calstrom-March as chanteuse Sally Bowles, the main draw in Berlin’s shabby Kit Kat Club, circa the Roaring Twenties and the rise of Hitler.

Calstrom-March is a joy to watch every second she’s on stage at the Novato Theatre Company (which presented Cabaret). She’s a quadruple threat: vocals that might make many a Broadway starlet jealous; dancing that puts a capital “L” in limber; dramatic acting chops that make you feel with her; and a rubberized face that can deliver comic expressions with ease.

Also completely watchable is Stephen Kanaski, the Emcee, who changes costumes as often as kids check out their smart phones, and who leers and sneers with the best of them — even though actor/singer Joel Grey originally “owned” the role.

Choreography by Katie Wickes — who also seamlessly co-directed the show with Jenny Boynton — derivatively reminds theatergoers of Bob Fosse at his peak with an underlay of classic Jerome Robbins (and that’s not a bad thing). She staged and rehearsed each of the four nightclub dancers so well they seemed to fill the spotlights as if there were two or three times that many hoofers.

Superlative costumes by Krista Lee and Andria Nyland ranged from a military uniform to glitzy, skimpy burlesque outfits to “ordinary clothing” that blended so well it became invisible so they didn’t distract from the plotline.

A trio of instrumentalists, led by music director Daniel Savio just off the stage, doesn’t miss a proverbial beat and couldn’t have supported the cast better with its bouncy jazz rhythms suitable to the era.

Others worth lauding include Daniela Innocenti Beem, who smoothly injects landlady Fraulein Schneider (who feels pressured by the political upheaval to not marry the Jewish fruit peddler she loves) with humor and pathos and a voice that won’t quit, and Michael Lister, who portrays Ernst, a Nazi smuggler, with appropriate sleaze.

Cabaret, as most theatergoers know, is a rough-edged tragic double-love story engraved on a backdrop of Nazism. Today, the 1966 musical again acts as a red-flag metaphor suggesting that extreme nationalism, racism, Antisemitism, anti-LGBTQ+ism, and blindness to burgeoning authoritarianism can imperil our frail democracy.

Fräulein Schneider (Daniela Innocenti Beem), a landlady, cozies up to Jewish fruit peddler, Herr Shultz (Jere Torkelsen).

The Marin Musical Theatre Company (MMTC) show isn’t for everyone, certainly — despite the production’s overall superb quality and the show’s Tony award-winning history. MAGA devotees probably won’t like it just because. And anyone who can’t handle its cornucopia of heavy sexuality, debauchery, homophobia, immorality, hedonism, prostitution, and drugs most likely will stay home.

Sally Bowles (Evvy Calstrom-March, center) and Kit Kat Club girls come on strong.

Regardless, classic Broadway music by John Kander and lyrics by Fred Ebb, a team that also spawned another Great White Way blockbuster, Chicago, remain a perfect fit. Several of the tunes, in fact, can be sung or hummed or whistled as you leave the theater, an endeavor that’s almost as dead as the proverbial dodo if you think about more modern musicals.

Joel Grey, not incidentally, gets cited online by Wickes and Boynton, in lieu of a production prologue, by reprinting an op-ed he wrote for the New York Times last November.

In it, he sounds an alarm about “the dangers of apathy” and distraction — as he simultaneously warns us about being seduced by a sense that we are facing dark times but “they won’t really affect our own day-to-day lives.”

That sense, he notes, echoes “the tragically shortsighted assessment of so many European Jews in the 1920s and ‘30s.”

The MMTC/Novato Theatre Company co-production of Cabaret will play at the Novato Theatre Company, 5420 Nave Drive, Novato, through April 13. Tickets: $35 to $50. Info: 415-883-4498 or info@marinmusicals.org.

Woody Weingarten

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