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Family issues arise in ‘The Lake Effect’

By Judy Richter

Long-held family secrets and resentments surface in Rajiv Joseph’s “The Lake Effect,” presented by TheatreWorks.

Anyone who has spent a winter east or southeast of a Great Lake knows about the lake effect. It’s heavy snowfall resulting from cold wind blowing over the warmer water and picking up moisture, which becomes snow. In the play, lake effect also has an allegorical meaning, which becomes clear near the end.

The action takes place during the winter in a dingy, now-closed Indian restaurant in Cleveland, along the Lake Erie  shoreline. Because its longtime immigrant owner is ailing, his estranged son, Vijay (Adam Poss), goes there for the first time in 15 years.

While Vijay reviews his father’s financial records, Bernard (Jason Bowen), a black man, comes in. He says that he always has lunch there and that the father, Vinnie (not seen), is his good friend. That’s when the first secret comes to light. The ever-frugal Vinnie has taken to betting on pro football. As his bookie (Bernard denies that status, says he just place bets for Vinnie), Bernard wants to give him his latest winnings.

Vijay is dismayed when Bernard tells him that Vinnie never mentioned a son but that he often talked about his daughter. Soon Vijay’s younger sister, Priya (Nilanjana Bose), arrives. Sibling rivalry is evident. Even more conflicts arise after Vinnie’s death.

All three characters have their own issues and problems, but Bernard copes more effectively in part because of his optimism. That attitude gradually affects the siblings and allows the three to form a quasi-family.

Set designer Wilson Chin (with lighting by Matthew Johns) recreates the lake effect with several inches of snow piled on a car parked outside the restaurant as more snow falls. Sound by Brendan Aanes evokes the cold, blustery weather every time the door opens and a bundled-up character enters (costumes by Jill Bowers).

Although the emotions can run high, the tension is often leavened with humor. Sensitive direction by Giovanna Sardelli capitalizes on this ebb and flow.

All three actors do well, but Bowen as Bernard has perhaps the deepest role and mines it well.

This intriguing play runs just under 90 minutes without intermission.

“The Lake Effect” will continue through March 29 at the Lucie Stern Theatre, 1305 Middlefield Road, Palo Alto. For tickets and information, call (650) 463-1960 or visit www.theatreworks.org.

 

 

Art imitates life in play about gay lover of logic and men

By Woody Weingarten

[Woody’s [rating: 3.5]

John Fisher (kneeling) directs himself (as gay scientist Alan Turing) and Heren Patel (as his young Greek lover, Nikos) in “Breaking the Code.” Photo by David Wilson.

The real Alan Turing.

One plus one can add up to more than one might expect.

Having seen the film “The Imitation Game,” I suspected I’d find “Breaking the Code,” a parallel play about math and men, merely a re-run since it leaned on the same biographical source — the real life of Alan Turing.

My computations were wrong.

“Code” adds considerable depth by emphasizing Turing’s homosexuality and humanness (as opposed to the hit movie’s slicker, dramatic focus on the gay scientist’s breaking a Nazi code).

Indeed, John Fisher doesn’t portray Turing. He instead inhabits the character’s body and makes him astoundingly authentic.

A mental giant and “an old poof” to whom “possessions per se mean very little.”

Powerful yet pathetic.

Fisher adroitly incorporates the atheist mathematician’s quirkiness without turning him into a caricature — his OCD-like insistence on lining up chairs and tables with exactitude (on an almost bare, pliable set); his fussy straightening of clothing; his recurrent fingernail-biting; and his childlike climbing into a fetal position in chairs.

The director also slyly prods the plot through a recording of “Someday My Prince Will Come” from the Disney cartoon classic, “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.”

Both play, which is surprisingly not devoid of humor, and film are well worth seeing.

And, happily, still catchable.

The former, presented by Theatre Rhinoceros, runs through March 21 at the Eureka Theatre in San Francisco; the latter can yet be found in various Bay Area movie houses.

I, for one, was glad I saw the movie first — it made the jerky backward-and-forward time shifts of the play simpler to discern.

Turing was an unlikeable, often neurotic, sometimes dysfunctional gay scientist who — despite odds of “50,000 to 1 against” —broke the Enigma code.

His work, which resulted in his pioneering the computer and artificial intelligence, helped win World War II because it enabled the Allied forces to pinpoint Nazi U-boat movements.

Turing, ironically a devotee of logic, nevertheless was convicted of being a homosexual.

He was sentenced to undergo hormone treatments that left him so physically and mentally bereft he, after two years of persecution, committed suicide at age 41.

That tragedy, apparently a historic inevitability, might well slice through a theatergoer’s emotional armor.

“Breaking the Code,” by Emmy award-winning playwright Hugh Whitemore, was based on Andrew Hodges’ book. It was originally produced in London and on Broadway in the late ‘80s.

But the playwright apparently took some liberties with the truth.

For instance, Turning, who was protected by Winston Churchill (and posthumously pardoned by Queen Elizabeth in December 2013), had been thoroughly investigated by police.

He didn’t accidentally blurt out his sexual preferences to a cop.

Accurately depicted, however, was the scientist’s fascination-flirtation with a schoolmate, Christopher Morcom, whose premature death haunted him all his life — and an awkward, non-sexual, short-lived entanglement with a female co-worker who worshipped him.

Not only is Fisher, the Rhino’s executive artistic director since 2002, brilliant in his acting, his direction is equally luminous.

He makes the play’s two hours race by, he ensures everyone’s British accent is consistent and easy to penetrate, and he draws the best possible performances from Celia Maurice as Turing’s doting but unenlightened mother, Sarah; Val Hendrickson as Dillwyn Knox, his supportive boss who personally doesn’t care if Turing goes “to bed with choir boys or cocker spaniels” but frets about what the authorities will think; Kirsten Peacock as his infatuated coworker friend Pat Green; and Justin Lucas as Ron Miller, Turning’s lover-user-betrayer.

Like most, I knew zilch about Turing before the publicity bandwagon gassed up for “Imitation Game” and Benedict Cumberbatch’s starring role.

I feel richer for having been informed.

“Breaking the Code” will play at the Eureka Theatre, 215 Jackson St. (at Front and Battery streets), San Francisco, through March 21. Evening performances, Sundays, 7 p.m.; Wednesdays through Saturdays, 8 p.m. Matinees, Saturdays, 3 p.m. Tickets: $10 to $30 (subject to change). Information: 1-800-838-3006 or www.TheRhino.org

Contact Woody Weingarten at voodee@sbcglobal.net or check out his blog at www.vitalitypress.com/

The Convert debuts at Marin Theatre Company

By Joe Cillo

African Drama in Troubled Times, Troubled Places

For its first production of the new year, Marin Theatre Company is presenting  “The Convert,” a Bay Area premiere by Zimbabwean-American playwright and actress, Danai Gurira.  The play is important for its originality. It’s an African period piece and a dual-language script set in the present Zimbabwe — Rhodesia in 1896 — at a time when native Africans had begun to strike out against the British colonists and other Africans who sided with them. It’s also another culture’s views of family loyalty.

The play opens with Jekesai, half naked, fleeing with her cousin Tamba from her forced marriage to a much-married older man. This flight will enrage her uncle, who was waiting to collect his “bride price.” Tamba takes her to a safe house, the home of Chilford, a young Catholic clergyman, not yet ordained, where Mai Tamba, Jekesai’s aunt, is housekeeper. The home is furnished with a few pieces of Victorian-style furniture and a small altar on one side of the room. The only other ornamentation is a large, wall-mounted crucifix that startles the young  Shona girl. Before Chilford arrives, Mai Tamba throws a concealing, shapeless gown over her niece, then introduces her as a new student and convert. His claim to have the power of God with him will keep Jekesai safe from her enraged uncle. And because Chilford needs converts to improve his status with the Jesuits, he accepts the protege and changes her name to Ester.

Mai Tamba keeps the house in order, but keeps her beliefs to herself. She recites her prayers as required: “Hail, Mary, full of ghosts,” but privately scatters unknown herbs around the home and later upbraids her niece for not going to the family ceremony to honor the dead.

Others come to the home. Chancellor, a friend of Chilford, affects British dress and language because he wants to be part of the winning team. The two friends speak an ornamented kind of English together, while Chancellor’s fiance, Prudence, presents herself as more British than Queen Victoria.

The play’s accents, bilingualism and length make huge demands on both cast and director. MTC’s Jasson Minadakis has assembled a superb, all-Equity cast from locals and imports. Both Katherine Renee Turner (Jekesai/Ester) and Jefferson A. Russell (Chancellor) were together in MTC’s recent production, “Fetch Clay, Make Man.” L. Peter Callender (Uncle) and Omoze Idehenre (Prudence) have made many appearances in the Bay Area, including in Marin Theatre Co’s “Seven Guitars.”  Elizabeth Carter (Mai Tamba) has multiple acting credits locally, while both Jabari Brisport (Chilford) and JaBen Early (Tamba) are making their Marin debuts in this play.

Excellent actors and direction will be necessary for “The Convert” to continue in production at other theatres. Ms. Gurira’s script is almost three hours long and burdened with lengthy speeches. “Wordy,” was a remark overheard at the first of two intermissions. Further, the accents can sometimes overcome the dialogue and make it hard to understand — especially during the speeches. This script will need a tune-up if it’s going to get “legs,” but meanwhile, Marin Theatre Company has given “The Convert” a fine introduction to the west coast.

“The Convert” will play at the Marin Theatre Company in Mill Valley Tuesdays through Sundays till March 15. Sunday matinees are at 2p.m.  All evening shows begin at 7p.m. Ticket prices range from $20 — $58, with discounts available for seniors and military. For additional information, see the website, marintheatre.org, or call the box office, (415) 388-5208.

 

Shining City at Main Stage West, Sebastopol CA

By Greg & Suzanne Angeo, Uncategorized

Reviewed by Suzanne and Greg Angeo

Members, San Francisco Bay Are Theatre Critics Circle

Photos courtesy of Main Stage West

John Craven, Nick Sholley

Ghosts of the Soul

Modern Irish playwright Conor McPherson is known for crafting stories with elements of the paranormal. His 2004 play “Shining City” was first performed in London’s West End and saw its Broadway debut in 2006. It was nominated for the Tony Award for Best Play.

This is a ghost story that’s about more than just floating bits of protoplasm. It’s about haunted people who carry their ghosts around with them. The tale unrolls like an interesting fabric with frayed edges purposely left undone. Set in contemporary Dublin, “Shining City” is spooky drama leavened with wry humor. Taking place entirely in a dingy therapist’s office, it was written to flow seamlessly over five scenes without intermission. At Main Stage West, there is one, and the dynamics remain intact.

The play opens with John (John Craven) arriving at the appointed time. He is jittery and jumpy, as if wired to an electric current. His wife died in a car crash a few months back, and now he’s seeing her spirit in the house they shared. Positive he’s coming unhinged by grief and guilt over his past failures as a husband, he’s visiting a therapist to unload. His therapist Ian (Nick Sholley), an ex-priest, has his own inner ghosts to exorcise. John is his very first patient, and he’s unsure how to proceed. His relationship with his fiancé Neasa (Ilana Niernberger) has hit a rocky patch. For mysterious reasons, he has estranged himself from her and their baby, and she shows up at the office later and demands to know why. Finally, an enigmatic drifter named Laurence (John Browning) appears, summoned by Ian for what he hopes will be a moment of self-discovery.

Ilana Niernberger, Nick Sholley

The expressions “on your own”, “on my own”, “on her own” are used over and over again. This suggests not independence, but loneliness and isolation, a sense of being alone in the company of others. “Frightening” is also repeated a number of times, as if to drive home the terror of aloneness. A number of cathartic monologues delivered by Craven are sheer, spellbinding magic.

The dialogue flows very naturally including those long, awkward conversational gaps where the silence says more than the words ever could. All four performances, as an ensemble, are courageous, creative and spot-on. As the tormented John, Craven’s unease is palpable. Sholley’s Ian conveys the sense of a great listener, assured on the surface with turmoil just beneath. Niernberger gives a notable performance in showing Neasa’s frantic attempt to understand Ian and salvage what’s left of what they once had. And Browning is restrained and insightful as Laurence in his single, surprising scene with Sholley.

Beth Craven’s sensitive and perceptive direction lends just the right touch, enhancing the unique situation of each scene. “Shining City” is quietly moving and provocative at the same time, with an eerie conclusion that raises more questions than it answers. More than just the story, the words pull you along, a mastery of wordcraft over stagecraft.

John Browning, Nick Sholley

When: Now through March 15, 2015

8:00 p.m Thursdays, Fridays & Saturdays

5:00 p.m. Sundays

Tickets $15 to $27 (Thursdays are “pay what you will” at the door only)

Where: Main Stage West

104 North Main Street

Sebastopol, CA 95472

(707) 823-0177

www.mainstagewest.com

A Lie of the Mind is a long night’s journey at the Magic Theatre

By Kedar K. Adour

Frankie (Juan Amador) listens to Beth (Jessi Campbell) as Baylor (Robert Parsons) looks on.(Photo by Jennifer Reiley)

A Lie of the Mind: Drama. By Sam Shepard. Directed by Loretta Greco. Magic Theatre, Building D, Fort Mason Center, S.F. Two hours 50 minutes. (415) 441-8822 or www.magictheatre.org 

A Lie of the Mind is a long night’s journey at the Magic Theatre [rating:3]

Extended through March 14, 2015

Once again 24 hours separated an evening of fun and an evening of intense drama with nary a separation of two miles between the two theatres. Wednesday the national tour of the musical Newsies at the Orpheum left the audience with warm feelings as they gave the production a standing ovation. The next night an exceptionally fine staging of Magic Theatre’s local production of Sam Shepard’s A Lie of the Mind led some of the audience to leave at intermission. It was not an unexpected situation at the Magic that seems to stage plays involving dysfunctional families.

Sam Shepard who honed his art as playwright-in-residence for 10 years (1974-1984) at the Magic is known for his portrayal of dysfunctional families. In doing so he has earned honors heaped on honors with his plays and Buried Child earned the 1978 Pulitzer Prize. That play has received stunning staging by A.C.T and the Magic. The present production of Lie of the Mind has never been produced in the Bay Area and can be recommended for its historical relationship to the Shepard’s development as a writer and as an example of Lorretta Greco’s directorial skills. It has been suggested it is the final chapter of Curse of the Starving Class (1976), Buried Child (1979), True West (1980), and Fool for Love (1983) that are semi-autobiographical with the male characters dominating.  Although the action of the male characters In A Lie of the Mind are the causation of events, his female characters take center stage and are given almost equal status as the males. 

The story involves two dysfunctional families, separated by miles but tied together by marriage. Jake, his brother Frankie, sister Sally and their mother Lorraine live in a Western State. Jake’s wife Beth is from a North Dakota family that includes a mother Meg, a father Baylor and a brother Mike.  Their abstruse relationships are gradually defined though Shepard’s mastery of dialog and action creating fully rounded individuals but ends with more questions than answers.

The play begins and ends with violence and is filled with intense situations that are gut-wrenching but at times somehow garner stifled laughs from the audience. Those moments are few. What can one expect when the opening scene is a telephone call between brothers Jake and Frankie where hyper-manic Jake is confessing his near fatal beating of his wife Beth and a second hospital scene of brain-damaged Beth being consoled by her brother Mike?

Shepard is a master at developing bits of information combined with physicality to create fully rounded characters but he is not above using exposition in the guise of ordinary conversation to unravel past actions that defines personality. A specific scene that defines the true relationship between the manic Jake and his deceased drunken father is one of those lapses in the plays construction. This may be due to the fact that he gives those specific lines to Jakes young sister Sally (Elaina Garrity) and it does not carry the horrific nature of a past event that leads to a momentous decision by mother Lorraine (a marvelous Catherine Castellanos) and Sally to abandon the family home.

Jessi Campbell gives a Tony Award winning type of performance as the brain damaged Beth and you will find yourself trying to help her find the words buried in the prison of her mind. Sean San Jose gives a histrionic patina to his performance as Jake just as Shepard has suggested in his stage directions. (Shepard directed the original production). You can feel the mental and physical pain tinged with loyalty of Jake’s younger brother Frankie in Juan Amador’s performance. James Wagner’s transition as Beth’s concerned and protective brother Mike to an unbalanced deer hunter seems artificial even if Shepard had intended the dichotomy. Robert Parsons and Julia McNeal as the parents of Beth and Mike do a superbly believable job of displaying the attributes written into their characters.

This three act play as suggested by the author has complicated scene changes and may be one reason it has not had many productions. Director Greco has wisely simplified the staging and the scenes flow smoothly even when the action is hectic. Original music written and performed by Nicholas Aives and Jason Cirimele is used as bridges between scenes, underscores monologs and opens and closes each act.  Running time 2 hours and 50 minutes with one intermission.

CAST: Juan Amador (Frankie); Jessi Campbell  (Beth); Catherine Castellanos (Lorraine);  Julia McNeal (Meg); Robert Parsons (Baylor); Sean San Jose (Jake); James Wagner (Mike); Elaina Garrity (Sally).

CREATIVE TEAM: Director, Loretta Greco; Set Design, Robert Brill; Costume Design, Alex Jaeger; Lighting Design, Burke Brown; Sound Design, Sara Huddleston; Stage Manager, Karen Szpaller;  Dramaturg, Jane Ann Crum; Vocal Coach, Deborah Sussel; Fight Director, Dave Maier; Director of Production, Sara Huddleston; Technical Director, Dave Gardner; Props Design, Jacquelyn Scott; Local Casting,Dori Jacob and Ryan Guzzo Purcell; Original Music Composed and Played by Nicholas Aives and Jason Cirimele

Kedar K. Adour, MD

Courtesy of www.theatreworldinternetmagazine.com  

 

Dragon’s “Show People” humorously honors theater folk

By Judy Richter

As the audience files into Dragon Theatre for the opening of its 15th season, a recording of Ethel Merman singing this line, “There’s no people like show people,” can be heard.

It’s an apt way to settle into “Show People,” Paul Weitz’s often funny salute to the people who bring plays and musicals to life.

As the play opens, two actors, Marnie (Monica Cappuccini) and Jerry (Bill Davidovich), who have been married to each other for a long time, are arriving at a beach house owned by Tom (Casey Robbins). He has hired them for the weekend to impersonate his parents in order to impress his live-in girlfriend, Natalie (Sara Renée Morris).

She in turn tries to impress them. For example, she bakes blueberry muffins, but she adds some horseradish, rendering them almost inedible, but everyone else is too polite to say so.

To say much more about the plot as it twists and turns would be to spoil the surprises except to say that little is as it seems on the surface. However, one thing is clear: Despite all the trials and tribulations Marnie and Jerry have gone through over the years, they still love each other and the theater.

Astutely directed by Austin Edgington, all four actors fully inhabit their characters and their shifting relationships while mining both the humorous and the serious moments of the play.

Cappuccini’s performance as Marnie is especially noteworthy. In addition to impeccable comic timing, she relays volumes with her unspoken reactions to various situations and the other characters.

The tall, deep-voiced Davidovich allows Jerry to be something of a ham most of the time, but he can also tone him down to become serious and sincere when necessary. Robbins as Tom and Morris as Natalie are believable.

Kirsten Royston’s two-level set, with lighting by Leonardo Hidalgo, works well in Dragon’s intimate space. The character-appropriate costumes are by Jeff Hamby, the sound by Jesse Scarborough.

This 2006, two-act play runs just over two hours with one intermission. It’s an enjoyable production for the audience and a great way for the company to begin its new season.

“Show People” will continue through March 22 at Dragon Theatre, 2120 Broadway St., Redwood City, through March 22. For tickets and information, call (650) 493-2006 or visit www.dragonproductions.net.

 

Storytelling, Simpsons central in ‘Mr. Burns’ at ACT

By Judy Richter

Storytelling becomes a powerful survival tool in “Mr. Burns, a post-electric play,”  presented by American  Conservatory Theater in a co-production with the Guthrie Theater.

Playwright Anne Washburn sets the action in California after meltdowns at nuclear power plants across the country have knocked out the electrical grid, causing massive death and destruction.

As the play opens, a group of survivors is gathered around a campfire trying to reconstruct “Cape Feare,” an iconic episode of TV’s long-running “The Simpsons.” The approach of a stranger puts them in a defensive mode, guns drawn, but he’s just another survivor, and he brings news, none of it good.

The next scene fast-forwards seven years when the band of survivors has become a seven-member theater troupe. They’ve moved into an abandoned warehouse where they rehearse their performance of  “Cape Feare,” making due with limited resources. By now, lines from “The Simpsons” have become valuable currency for which the troupe must compete against others doing the same thing.

The second act is set 75 years later when a theater troupe is staging “Cape Feare,” complete with a mix of popular songs from the era of the Simpsons.

Although the play is filled with pop culture references that can evade some audience members, it’s still enjoyable for the strength of Washburn’s writing and her lyrics for the score by Michael Friedman.

It’s also enjoyable for the outstanding performances that director Mark Rucker elicits from the engaging ensemble cast: Nick Gabriel, Anna Ishida, Kelsey Venter, Ryan Williams French, Charity Jones, Jim Lichtscheidl, Tracey A. Leigh and Andrea Wollenberg. Wollenberg also works with musical director David Möschler as part of the two-person, offstage band.

The set by Ralph Funicello (with lighting by Alexander V. Nichols) becomes ever more fanciful, as do the costumes by Alex Jaeger. The sound is by Jake Rodriguez, the choreography by Amy Anders Corcoran.

Although the play stresses the importance of storytelling, it also honors humankind’s instinct for survival no matter how dire the circumstances.

After closing in San Francisco, the production will move to the Guthrie in Minneapolis.

 

King Lear at the Lark: Up close and personal like you’ve never seen him

By David Hirzel, Uncategorized

You may think you know him, the tragedy of a doddering old man whose senses are beginning to leave him, and whose children use his failing powers to take what is his in the name of protecting him. It must have been as common an occurrence in Shakespeare’s day as it sometimes seems to be today. To hear the arguments of King Lear’s daughters Goneril (Maev Beaty) and Regan (Lisa Repo-Martell) it only makes sense to do so. Seen through the filter of his still sound mind in its lucid moments, it is betrayal that he calls out and confronts with all the passion his soul can muster. In Colm Feore’s King Lear, that is a lot of passion, and his early face-to-face confrontations with his daughters it spills out with volcanic fury, and is met with the same.

There are other betrayals—son against father, brother against brother, wife against husband—and they are played out with equal, unbridled passion, to their ultimate Shakespearean tragic and ruthlessly bloody end. But this performance is Lear as you’ve never seen it. Stratford Festival  has filmed the play live in their great theater in Ontario, Canada. Those in the audience are watching and responding to the performance, but they see it only from a distance.

This film brings us into the play in a way that watching it on stage can never do. The miracle of modern film brings the action, the faces, the tears of sorrow right to your own eyes. At its most beautiful moments—Cordelia reunited with her father, Lear comforting the blinded Gloucester—we the audience are moved to tears ourselves. At its most horrid—slash of the knife to the eyes, the brutal deaths by blade—we recoil in fear. Mercifully some of the deaths at the end of the play occur offstage. Lest anyone think the Bard was unusually bloodthirsty in his depictions of eye-gouging and murder, one has only to look to the recently discovered, violently mutilated remains of another medieval monarch, Richard III.

The performances are of the highest caliber, and we view them with the greatest clarity in detail, lighting, and sound. The one-night showing at the Lark is over now, but this is one version of King Lear you can see if it comes again to an art-house theater near you, or by renting a DVD to watch at home. It casts a whole new light on a play you may have thought you already knew.  Directed by Antoni Cimolino.

Look for two more of Shakespeare’s finest—King John and Anthony and Cleopatra—coming later this year to the Lark. Mark these dates on your calendar:  April 8 and May 21, 2015.  Don’t miss them.

If you haven’t already been to the Lark theater in Larkspur, give yourself plenty of time. It’s not easy to find, but believe me, if this is your only chance to see Shakespeare this close and personal, it will be well worth the effort.

 Lark Theater:  549 Magnolia Ave., Larkspur CA  415-924-5111

Review by David Hirzel



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2/26/15

 

‘The Convert’ looks as little-known aspect of African history

By Judy Richter

Irony ultimately rules in “The Convert,” presented in its Bay Area premiere by Marin Theatre Company.

Danai Gurira sets her play in Salisbury, Rhodesia, (present day Harare, Zimbabwe), between 1895 and 1897. A young African woman, Jekesai (Katherine Renee Turner), is taken to the home of Chilford (Jabari Brisport) by her cousin, Tamba (JaBen Early).

Because Tamba’s mother, Mai Tamba (Elizabeth Carter), works there as a maid, Tamba hopes that Jekesai can find refuge from her uncle (L. Peter Callender) who would force her to marry a much older man, whom she despises.

Chilford is an African who has renounced his tribal heritage and become a lay Roman Catholic minister trying to convert other Africans. He changes Jekesai’s name to Ester.  She comes to embrace Catholicism and to join him in his missionary work.

Over time, however, the natives begin to rebel against the white English settlers who have repressed them. Violence follows on both sides.

Chancellor (Jefferson A. Russell) warns Chilford that their fellow Africans regard him and other converts as traitors. Chancellor’s fiancee, Prudence (Omoze Idehenre), urges Ester to be her own woman.

Although Ester is presumably the title character, Chilford, too, is a convert, and both become increasingly conflicted between their new faith and their tribal traditions. Tragedy ensues.

Playwright Gurira, who was born in the United States to Zimbabwean parents and reared in Zimbabwe, is a promising young playwright. However, this nearly three-hour play could benefit from judicious pruning to reduce it from three acts and two intermissions to two acts and one intermission.

MTC artistic director Jasson Minadakis directs the outstanding cast, eliciting strong performances from everyone. The simple set is by Nina Ball with lighting by Gabe Maxson. Fumiko Bielefeldt designed the mix of Western and African costumes. The music and sound are by Chris Houston.

Dialect coach Lynne Soffer deserves credit for the accents, which are usually understandable if one listens carefully. Julia Chigamba, a native Zimbabwean, served as cultural consultant and guest vocal artist.

Despite its length, “The Convert” makes for fascinating drama while shedding light on a part of African history that probably is unfamiliar to most Americans.

It will continue through March 15 at Marin Theatre Company, 397 Miller Ave., Mill Valley. For tickets and information, call (415) 388-5208 or visit www.marintheatre.org.

 

Are writer and his wife in danger of losing it? Nah

By Woody Weingarten

Granddaughter’s front teeth rank low on columnist’s list of worrisome lost items. Photo: Woody Weingarten.

My wife keeps me busy by endlessly assigning me unwanted tasks.

Like finding her lost cell phone.

And umbrellas.

My search parties are mobilized weekly.

Not long ago Nancy phoned from downtown San Anselmo while walking our little white rescue mutt.

No, she hadn’t misplaced our biodegradable poop bags.

“Please come and rescue me,” she wailed. “I’ve lost my keys again.”

I scoured virtually every inch of her trail — Creek and Inspiration parks, block after block of San Anselmo Avenue, the lawn of Town Hall.

I pushed aside foliage where Kismet had deposited some stinky stuff and Nancy had bent over to collect it. I checked each early-blooming flower, each parked vehicle. I kicked aside fallen leaves that had accumulated at curbside.

I stopped counting at 1,439,574.

Diddly squat.

Happily, a young lad found the keys soon after we’d retreated to our home. He turned them into the police, whom we’d been smart enough to notify.

Losing this ‘n’ that has for sure become too habitual for both of us.

As well as for a slew of our aging friends.

On a whim, Nancy and I crafted a list — and noticed that losing something isn’t necessarily bad.

When she partially lost her hearing, for instance, she could no longer hear my snoring.

And when I lost my taste for alcohol, weed and Pall Malls, she — not to mention my liver and lungs — was grateful.

Losses also can fill our mental safety deposit box of anecdotes.

Nancy once got a Jaguar tour of the Civic Center parking lots when she coaxed a young attorney into helping her locate her vanished Camry by pleading, “Pretend I’m your mother.”

Then, of course, there’s the negative side of the ledger.

Topping my list of worrisome recent disappearances is my diminished eyesight, abetted by cataracts.

To counteract my growing anxiety, I’ve stooped to regularly kissing the rings of Kaiser Permanente ophthalmologists and optometrists in San Rafael.

At the bottom of my list of worries are my granddaughter’s missing and wiggly baby teeth. I’d be willing to bet the 8-year-old doesn’t believe in the Tooth Fairy anymore but firmly believes in the five-dollar bill she gets for slipping a tooth under her pillow.

Lost through inflation along the way has been the value of a buck. I used to give my kids a quarter. And I felt no deprivation whatsoever even though my parents stiffed me completely.

Some losses undeniably are permanent.

My underwear somehow evaporated in Europe, for example, while quick drying on a wine rack.

Nancy’s luck with AWOL clothing is infinitely better. A hotel employee once took the trouble to mail her back an unwashed, wrinkled nightgown from a Bahamas vacation.

But the truth is, my wife doesn’t fret in advance about losing things.

That’s mainly because she strongly believes in karma and always returns what she finds.

I can verify this fantastical account about a wallet she found: When she called the owner to inform her about it, the woman was dining with Nancy’s dermatologist.

Finding is, naturally, the flip side of losing.

My 75-year-old wife recently unearthed an old, old, old supposedly lost outfit in the way-back of her closet.

She wore it just for giggles while strolling with Kismet in Fairfax one evening. A woman she didn’t know approached her just to say, “What a magnificent vintage dress.”

Without losing a beat, Nancy answered, “Thanks. It goes with the face and body — I’m vintage too.”

Losing things is hardly a new experience for us.

In fact, my wife and I wrote a song called “Lost It Blues” for our unproduced musical revue, “Touching Up the Gray.” And we’re still living out the lyrics, despite having composed the piece 16 years ago.

“I’ve lost 2 billion pens, 3 dozen pinky rings

“Over the last 40 or 50 years.

“And where’s the car I just parked

“With all its dings.

“I’ve lost count of what I’ve lost.

“It’s so embarrassing.”

But the song ends on a more serious note by referring to what we both consider our biggest loss — our youth:

“Time is irretrievable,

“It is unbelievable

“I had time on my hands,

“But now it’s lost.”

Contact Woody Weingarten at voodee@sbcglobal.net or check out his blog at www.vitalitypress.com/