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Two Trains Running: a review by Victor Cordell

By Victor Cordell

Two trains, many meanings

August Wilson’s magnum opus, the Pittsburgh Cycle, is comprised of ten plays, each occurring in a different decade of the twentieth century.   “Two Trains Running”, represents the 1960s.  It takes place in the African-American Hill District of Pittsburgh, PA, in 1969.  At that time, great strides were being made in voting rights, civil rights, and women’s rights, but progress is usually uneven and incomplete, and advancement creates its own form of discrimination.

 

The play, which has much to offer, is dogged by its pedestrian pace, overly ambitious sweep, and some problematic characterizations.  Multi Ethnic Theater’s valiant effort lacks sufficient spark to bring out the best in Wilson’s work.

Memphis’s Diner is the setting of the play, but it has been designated for demolition by eminent domain as part of an urban renewal project.  The diner’s habitues are older black men, whose discourse is aimless and fatalistic, symbolized by their obsession with gambling the numbers.

As played by Bennie Lewis, Memphis is the only character determined to take control of his fate.  Lewis’s eyes are fiery, his look fierce, and his voice gruff, whether avowing that he will force the city to give him his price for the diner or barking orders at Risa, the cook/waitress.  Though the portrayal works much of the time, it would benefit from variation in tone.

Two other focal characters are Wolf, played by Fabian Herd, and Holloway, played by Stuart Elwyn Hall.  Herd is visually striking as the self-interested  numbers runner who dresses like a preening pimp and fancies himself the great ladies man.  Hall also looks his part as the eminence gris – unaspiring, but a thoughtful analyst and philosopher.

Sterling, played by Keita Jones, arrives as a strangely naive young man just out of prison.  However, the depiction reflects neither a bitterness nor a steely resolve that would amplify Sterling’s personality.  Through Sterling, the clash between generations in the black community is revealed.  He tries to gin up support for a political rally honoring Malcolm X, but the diner denizens are unenthused.  Their train has left the station.

And of course, by 1969, a fissure in the civil rights movement had appeared, between those who held to Dr. King’s dream and those who argued that progress would not occur without violence.  Other divides explored by the playwright are the white/black divide, with different standards and opportunities for the races, and the gender divide, with the female Risa being demeaned by Memphis and objectified by Sterling.

This production runs three hours including a brief intermission.  A subplot about Hambone, a gentle, but mentally-challenged soul, deals with abuse from within the black community.  It could be excised without loss of message.  At the same time, some political issues are not well explicated.  Some characters like Memphis and Wolf are well developed.  Yet Sterling’s contradictory actions render him incohesive rather than complex.  Beverly McGriff’s Risa seems oddly passive, despite having boldly disfigured her legs with razor cuts so that she wouldn’t be wanted by a man for her physical attributes.

Director Lewis Campbell designed the staging.  The set ably represents a poor ghetto diner – partly worn out and partly roughed out.  Two booths on either side of the thrust stage abut the front row seats, so that the Gough Street Playhouse becomes even more intimate than usual.  However, Campbell also uses extreme stage locations effectively for the public phone and the kitchen.

Campbell’s direction isn’t as incisive.  Actors are often allowed to speak at normal conversational volume, resulting in mumbled diction and a lack of energy on stage in a play that demands emotive acting to keep the audience fully engaged.  Better guidance to actors would help them better define their characters.  Finally, it is disconcerting to hear stage directions voiced to introduce each scene, as if it were a rehearsal rather than opening night.

“Two Trains Running” plays at Gough Street Playhouse in San Francisco through August 30.

Spitfire Grill at Meadow Brook Theatre, Rochester Hills MI

By Greg & Suzanne Angeo

Reviewed by Suzanne Angeo (member, American Theatre Critics Association) and Greg Angeo (Member Emeritus, San Francisco Bay Area Theatre Critics Circle)

Photos courtesy of Meadow Brook Theatre

Mary Robin Roth, Emily Hadick, Cory Cunningham, Larissa Klinger

 

“Spitfire Grill” Serves Up Some Down-home Charm

The story of “The Spitfire Grill”, a musical presented by Meadow Brook Theatre on the Oakland University campus, proves that disruption can be a good thing. In ways that are at first too small to be seen, like the tiny breeze from butterfly wings that can affect the weather miles away, one person can have a profound effect on those whose lives they touch, and beyond.

“Spitfire” began its barely six-week run off-Broadway in the fateful month of September 2001. The shattering effect of the terrorist attacks drew New York audiences to the comfort of the show’s gentle reassurance and lovely musical score, with characters that feel like family. The book was co-authored by American writers and longtime friends James Valcq and Fred Alley, with Valcq composing the music and Alley, the lyrics. Tragically, Alley died just two weeks before the show’s production workshop in May 2001.

Cory Cunningham, Emily Hadick

The story is set off the beaten path, in a town in Wisconsin surrounded by forest. It’s the kind of place, the locals say, that’s good for leaving.  For newcomer Percy, moving to the little town of Gilead and working at the old rundown diner offer her an escape from sorrow and the chance to start again. Despite her sincere efforts at friendship and determination to make good, she faces the headwinds of small-town gossip and suspicion. Will she ever fit in with these people, who seem so preoccupied with their own troubles?

Emily Hadick as Percy projects a sensitive wariness shaded with hope for better things, and just a touch of stubbornness. Her exquisite voice is well-suited for the music. The grill’s crotchety owner Hannah, played with feisty warmth by Mary Robin Roth, soon becomes her greatest ally. And Percy finds another friend in Shelby, played with quiet strength by Larissa Klinger, who helps out at the grill. Cory Cunningham delivers a solid performance as the low-key sheriff Joe. He hangs around the place, at first to keep an eye on Percy and make sure she stays out of trouble, and later for more personal reasons. Shelby’s distrustful, controlling husband Caleb is effectively portrayed by Dan Fenaughty. Kim Rachelle Harris is appropriately irritating as the town’s chief “Postmistress” and rumormonger, Effy. A mysterious, silent stranger (Michael Brian Ogden) makes nightly visits. Their lives will be forever changed by having Percy in their midst.

Larissa Klinger, Dan Fenaughty

Sure-footed direction and straightforward storytelling by Travis Walter and an evocative set design by Kristen Gribbin lend an intimate, cozy feel to the show. The graceful musical score, a combination of bluesy folk and country-style ballads, is performed by the cast and accompanied by the excellent five-piece band led by Jeffrey Campos. Memorable numbers include: “Come Alive Again”; “Colors of Paradise”; “Shoot the Moon” and “Wild Bird”. The ensemble cast has some thrilling harmonies and outstanding vocals throughout the show.

True, there is no crackling dramatic tension or rip-roaring laughter. Just a gently pleasing show, with some interesting plot twists and surprises in store. And music that will get under your skin.

 

When: Now through March 10, 2019

8:00 p.m. Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays & Saturdays

6:30 p.m. Sundays

2:00 p.m. Wednesdays & Sundays; Saturday, March 9

Tickets $36 to $45

Where: Meadow Brook Theatre at Wilson Hall

Oakland University

378 Meadow Brook Rd

Rochester Hills, MI 48309

(248) 377-3300

 www.mbtheatre.com

Listen to Me Marlon — Film Review

By Go See

Listen to Me Marlon

Directed by Steven Riley

 

This is a superb rendering of the varied, complex, and deeply tragic life of Marlon Brando.  It is very moving.  I don’t know what could be done to improve this film.   I think it is as good a presentation of this subject as can be done within the time constraint of under two hours.  Obviously when you try to condense a life as rich and complicated as Marlon Brando’s into less than two hours some things have to be left out.  I am curious to know more about Marlon Brando’s life as a result of watching this film, but the film had both breadth and depth.  It covered everything that I would have wanted it to cover and it was a penetrating, thought provoking study.  This was made possible by the many hours of audio diaries that Marlon Brando recorded himself that were searching, thoughtful, and introspective, and formed the soundtrack for the film.  There was no narrator or commentator other than Brando himself.  There were photographs, documentary footage, and newscasts to illustrate events.

The film explored his difficult childhood growing up in Omaha, Nebraska, with alcoholic parents, and an especially cold, violent father.  The mother seems to have been somewhat better and he had a nanny that he felt close to, but who left him at age seven to get married.  He had a bitter divorce, his son was kidnapped and recovered.  The son later killed his half sister’s boyfriend in Brando’s house.  The half sister later committed suicide.  He suffered more than his share of horrendous tragedies.  He did not like the spotlight.  Like John Lennon, he realized what a world of illusion and misunderstanding it is, how isolating it can be, and how it makes authentic relationships with people difficult or impossible.  He was interested in the civil rights struggle.  He was a companion and supporter of Martin Luther King.  He refused an Oscar as a protest on behalf of American Indians and their treatment by Hollywood.  He was more than an actor.  He thought about social issues and the impact of films upon society.

The film does a good job of connecting Brando’s inner demons with his work on stage and in the movies as an actor.  His work as an actor grew out of his inner torment.  “When you are unwanted, you try on different identities in hope that you will find something that is acceptable.  Acting is survival.”  He was blessed with stunning good looks and natural charisma.   Many of his films are among the best films ever made.  There are reflections on the nature of acting and footage of his acting teacher, Stella Adler, at the New School in New York City.  He had been in psychoanalysis, which I think helped him focus on his inner self and use his own inner turmoil in his acting.  It probably motivated him to make the many tapes of his thoughts and comments, which are a fortunate treasure trove of information and insight.

I have never made a list of my ten best documentary films of all time, but if I ever did, this would likely be on it.  It is very hard to get any better than this.  Go see it.

The Metaphysical Caravan

By Jo Tomalin
above: Re-Animation Photo: Teatr Pinokio

Review by Jo Tomalin

Enchanting Puppetry

Poland’s Pinokio Teatr company presents The Metaphysical Caravan, a series of puppet shows held in their mobile theatre – a beautiful little caravan at the 2015 Edinburgh Fringe Festival. This company valiantly drove their special caravan across Europe from Lodz, Poland for the Fringe and is performing three different twenty minute puppet shows each day; each show is performed with a different puppetry style. Therefore, if you like puppetry, especially unusual puppetry techniques, then try to see all three shows. Puppetry is often thought of as a children’s entertainment, but it has great appeal to adults and any of the three Metaphysical Caravan shows are relatable and equally entertaining to very young children as well as adults.

At 11:00 The Sunset play is about an elderly lady sitting at home thinking about her life. The beautifully sculpted head and her small frame are sensitively manipulated by two puppeteers wearing black clothing, so they are unseen. Behind a large glass window we are looking into her home, and miniature black and white videos play on tiny screens. It’s a delicate and beautiful silent memory story accompanied by gentle guitar music.

The Metaphysical Caravan

13:00 A Table for Two is unique! A man sits at the table waiting for his guest. When no one arrives he decides to create a friend. Without giving away too much, this is simple story which quickly develops with humour and imagination while the masterful puppeteer creates images in front of the audience. Video clips are cleverly integrated in this little piece – it’s remarkable!

15:00 Re-Animation is based on body puppetry. A young woman is in bed and she has a bandaged foot. As the lighting changes mysterious things happen. It is a humorous piece showing how puppetry can be so simple and effective to communicate thoughts, ideas and emotions. A short optional workshop about the unusual body puppetry technique is offered immediately after the show by the puppeteer.

The Metaphysical Caravan’s mobile theatre holds about a dozen audience members at most on real theatre seating from an old theatre in Poland. All of these shows are short and disarmingly simple…as well as…charming, fascinating, intriguing, plus created and performed with care and heart by the accomplished puppeteers. The Metaphysical Caravan is a unique and special theatrical experience. So go and find the caravan before it returns to Poland! It’s’s tucked away, parked towards the back of the courtyard at Summerhall.

Review Originally Published in www.FringeReview.co.uk

More Information:


Jo Tomalin, Ph.D. reviews Dance, Theatre & Physical Theatre Performances
More Reviews by Jo Tomalin
TWITTER @JoTomalin
www.forallevents.com  Arts & Travel Reviews

Travels with Frankie highlight ‘The Voice of the Prairie’

By Judy Richter

A farmer becomes a celebrity by telling stories to early radio audiences in John Oliver’s “The Voice of the Prairie,” presented by Dragon Productions.

Davey Quinn (Robert Sean Campbell), an orphan, apparently inherited his story-telling ability from the 70-year-old Irish relative who looks after him. When the older man dies in 1895, young Davey has only his wits to help him survive.

Taking to the road, he rescues a young blind girl, Frankie (Maria Giere Marquis) from her abusive father. She then becomes his companion, riding the rails and sharing some great adventures for several months before they’re inadvertently separated.

Some years later, Davey has become a farmer who talks to friends about his adventures. A slick New Yorker, Leon Schwab (Tom Gough), overhears him and convinces him to tell his stories on Leon’s pioneering radio station, which he also uses to sell radios.

Davey becomes famous and is reunited with Frankie in 1923 just as Leon is in trouble with the Federal Communications Commission for broadcasting without a license.

The story jumps back and forth as Gough and Marquis portray other characters. Gough carries the heaviest load. In one scene he’s Leon, in another he’s James, the asthmatic Methodist minister who wants to marry Frankie. He’s also seen as Davey’s relative, Frankie’s father, a sheriff and a loutish farmer. He’s terrific in all these roles.

Directed by Dragon’s founder and artistic director, Meredith Hagedorn, this production starts slowly as Davey’s relative, Poppy, tells a story. His narrative is often interrupted by Davey’s high-pitched giggles, which become off-putting because they’re repeated so often.

The pace gradually picks up during the first act, and the second act, which takes place mainly in 1923, becomes more rewarding and satisfying.

Aside from his early scenes with Poppy ,Campbell makes a likable Davey, whose life is forever altered through his adventures with Frankie. For her part, Marquis is convincing as the blind Frankie, making her a strong, resolute character.

This three-actor play is well suited to Dragon’s intimate space. The simple set by Jesse Ploog, lighting by Jeff Swan, costumes by Brooke Jennings and sound by Martyn Jones facilitate the action. Mostly it’s the skill of the playwright and the talent of the actors that fill in the details of time and place.

“The Voice of the Prairie” runs just under two and a half hours with one intermission.

It continues through Sept. 13 at Dragon Theatre, 2120 Broadway St., Redwood City. For tickets and information, call (650) 493-2006 or visit www.dragonproductions.net.

 

Snippets of conversations beguile, titillate and shock

By Woody Weingarten

Writer Woody Weingarten wishes he had ears like this fennec fox so he could overhear more juicy delicacies.

Unlike our federal government, I don’t snoop.

Unlike countless other organizations, I do no surveillance — electronic or other.

Unlike cable news networks and Wikipedia, I don’t spread misinformation, gossip or rumors.

But I do grab snippets of tête-à-têtes from restaurants, park benches and street corners.

And, because what I overhear might end up as fodder for a column, I typically jot down what I catch. This, in fact, is the third compilation of succulent morsels I’ve picked up.

Perhaps these delicacies will beguile, titillate or shock you — maybe even as much as they did me.

To wit…

While asking questions at Town Hall about a new neighbor’s construction project, I overhead a nearby San Anselmo employee say, “I absolutely need to unwind, un-stress and un-overload.”

“I’m done with him,” said a teen girl in the Marin General lobby the week before. “He’s now just a speck in my litter box of life.”

Outside Trader Joe’s in San Rafael, a sly geezer declared — albeit a little too publicly — to his vastly younger female companion, “I have a feeling some prankster put crushed Viagra in my miso soup at lunch.”

A long-haired, college-age guy philosophized outside The Bicycle Works co-op in San Anselmo: “We all know what to do about Killer Bees, but how can we handle Killer Sharks — you know, those anti-middle-class Wall Street venture-capitalist types — or the Killer Publicists, the marketers who clutter up popular films with irrelevant product placements, or Killer Second Amendmenters, those pro-gun jerks who think every kid’s room should be stocked with an Uzi?”

Addressing a diner who’d obviously over-tipped, an elated server in Il Fornaio in Corte Madera gushed, “Grazie, merci, danke, arigatou, toda and asante. Oh, I forgot — thanks a lot.”

A dowager in deep blue dress, diamond necklace and studs outside Mag’s Local Yogurt shop in Larkspur lapped up some vanilla one sunny p.m. “I’m supporting Carly Fiorina and Marco Rubio,” she said, “and have donated to both their campaigns. I’m also speaking for them locally, sort of reversing things by putting my mouth where my money is.”

“Arguing with a spouse,” one mid-lifer in front of the Fairfax police station said to another, “is like having a nuclear war — nobody wins.”

I heard, in the Post Office in Ross, a sentence that could never apply to a compulsive-obsessive neatnik, maker of priority lists and lint picker-upper like me: “He’s having a real romance with disorder.”

But I agree with the disheveled mother who chided her ear-budded son outside Bananas at Large in San Rafael, “Once there were songs; now there’s only noise.”

And I definitely could share a grin with the gray-haired gent in pristine white shirt, power tie, filthy sneakers and tattered jeans in San Anselmo’s library who proclaimed, “I love it that I’m old enough to still appreciate — in the face of all this damned technology — paper clips, rubber bands and a plunger.”

Decked-out matron watching road construction in Mill Valley with a gal-pal: “These days more than ever, perseverance trumps perspiration.”

Cynical senior in Fairfax’s Good Earth Natural Foods generalized,  “Those that can, do; those that can’t become politicians.”

A twenty-something father, near the stone dinosaur at Millennium Park in San Anselmo, appeared to be wasting some psychology on his toddler daughter, “Okay, don’t have fun. Don’t have any fun.”

Matronly blonde outside Luther Burbank Savings in San Rafael was waving her arms in a friend’s face: “Our government has definitely completed its wrong-headed transition from the Gold Standard to an Ink Standard. The only question remaining is: How much money can The Fed print?”

A young guy with an unusually high forehead had collared   a sidekick at Drake High School, “There’s only one word to describe her — feckless.”

Loaded down with books on the Kentfield campus of the College of Marin, a student was chatting with his clingy girlfriend. “A few minutes ago John was quoting ‘The Huffington Post,’ then Wikipedia. That’s cool. But I’m still hoping he’ll really go retro and quote ‘Esquire’ or ‘Elle.’”

Finally, while munching on a delicacy at Terra Linda’s High Tech Burrito, a Millennial said to a worker cleaning tables, “Would your family be the basis of a soap opera, sitcom or reality show? Mine could be all three.”

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

 

Drama about blacks in the ‘60s reflects today’s news

By Woody Weingarten

[Woody’s [rating: 3.5]

Risa (Beverly McGriff) and Bennie Lewis (Memphis, right) get caught up in the musings of Sterling (Keita Jones) in “Two Trains Running.” Photo by Steven Wilson.

“Two Trains Running” is a rear view peek at America’s racial turmoil that concomitantly reflects today’s cringe-worthy headlines.

Despite it being somewhat of an anachronism.

With black playwright August Wilson leaning heavily on the n-word.

The two-time Pulitzer Prize winner wrote “Trains” in 1991 as one piece of a masterful 10-play series, but neither his language nor ghetto portrait are as edgy as, let’s say, playwright Tarell Alvin McCraney’s in the more recent Brother/Sister Plays trilogy.

I find “Trains” to be more a slice of life, centering on dissatisfaction and anger, than a dissection of racial tensions.

Even though it uses the Civil Rights movement of the ‘60s as a backdrop.

Martin Luther King’s name is dropped, and a rally following the assassination of Malcolm X does get attention in the Multi Ethnic Theater (MET) drama at the Gough Street Playhouse in San Francisco.

All six actors in the work, set in a Pittsburgh diner in 1969, adroitly showcase the period and the black working class while juxtaposing the humor and hope of Wilson’s script.

Although a fan used in a hallway to cool the theater occasionally muffles dialogue.

In “Trains,” the frayed eatery is expected to become a casualty of a reconstruction project. And restaurant owner Memphis worries “the white man” will cheat him by paying too little for the business.

The milieu actually is similar to neighborhoods I watched change as a child growing up in a New York City suburb. Blacks typically saw those shifts through a radically different lens than we Caucasians — not as urban renewal but urban removal.

Wilson’s work features six flesh-and-blood characters searching for empowerment but failing to find it easily.

Each character is well defined.

Bennie Lewis’ bug-eyes quickly convey Memphis’ likability — and frustration.

Keita Jones spotlights job-hunting ex-con Sterling as a confused but determined lover not above stealing flowers from a mortuary or teaching a developmentally disabled fellow a black power anthem.

Beverly McGriff, the only female in the cast, makes me believe Risa, an emotion-blocked cook-waitress with a penchant for cutting her legs is willing to change.

Fabian Herd replicates the shady and selfish character of Wolf, a bookie; Geoffrey Grier (who alternates the role with Anthony Pride) fabricates a tunnel-visioned, mentally deficient Hambone; and Vernon Medearis is appropriately unpleasant as black-clad undertaker/real estate magnate West.

Stuart Elwyn Hall fills out the cast as Holloway, a 65-year-old self-styled philosopher.

Curiously, though, I find the most fascinating Wilson characters to be Aunt Ester, an offstage 322-year-old mythic everyone visits to ward off bad things, and the dead Prophet Samuel, another being who never appears yet one whose coffin visage includes ostentatious bling and $100 bills.

Lewis Campbell, who founded the MET and wears hats as its artistic director, executive director and stage designer, skillfully directs the drama.

His diner set, incidentally, feels totally authentic — the kind I long ago liked to frequent.

Four booths, a pass-through window to the kitchen, an old-fashioned pay phone (where Wolf takes 600-to-1 numbers bets), a blackboard on which daily specials are chalked, and an on-again, off-again jukebox that’s occasionally fed quarters.

Wilson’s language in the play, produced in association with Custom Made Theatre, can be poetic. But it also can ramble.

Brief passages can be amazingly revelatory, though.

As in a Memphis rant: “Ain’t no justice. Jesus Christ didn’t get no justice. What do you think you’ll get?”

Or the effortless characterization embedded in Sterling’s nonchalant declaration that “I drove a getaway car once.”

Or West’s optimistic pronouncement that “life is hard but it ain’t impossible.”

“Two Trains Running” is part of Wilson’s Pittsburgh Cycle, sometimes referred to as the Century Cycle, where each play deals with the African-American experience in a different decade of the 20th century.

Best known probably are “Fences” and “The Piano Lesson,” both examples of intense theatricality.

During this performance, however, I started squirming not long after intermission because the two-act outing runs half an hour too long, barely a few minutes short of three hours.

Still, it’s important to note that Wilson (who was born Frederick August Kittel Jr.) reputedly started writing on a $10 stolen typewriter he’d pawn when money got tight.

I’m glad he found that keyboard.

“Two Trains Running” plays at the Gough Street Playhouse, 1620 Gough St. (off Bush), San Francisco, through Sept. 12. Evening performances, 8 p.m. Tuesdays through Saturdays. Matinees, 2 p.m. Sundays. Tickets: $20 to $35. Information: 1-415-798-2682 or info@custommade.org

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

Jazz singer-pianist Diana Krall is fantabulous, funny

By Woody Weingarten

Diana Krall

I’d planned to see Diana Krall last winter, but she got pneumonia and canceled.

I didn’t take it personally. But I was disappointed.

A few nights ago, I went to the Wells Fargo Center for the Arts in Santa Rosa to see the 50-year-old Canadian.

I was anything but disappointed.

She was fantabulous — both her vocals and piano artistry.

I can’t remember her contralto voice being quite so hoarse or husky before, but I do recall a similar inability to sit still throughout her concert.

My legs shook and my toes tapped — at the same breakneck pace as her foot keeping time.

I also can’t recall her being so self-deprecatingly funny.

Including an oops, immediately followed by the admission, “I hit the wrong key.”

Although some critics of her current “Wallflower” national tour have trashed her 12th album as filled with schmaltzy, sultry covers of pop tunes dating to the ‘60s, I regarded her live selections from that same-titled album only a fleeting distraction from her life’s blood — rollicking jazz.

To ensure that genre remaining predominant, Krall employed five dazzling sidemen.

Most notable was fiddler Stuart Duncan, who bowed, plucked and strummed his way into my heart and ears despite his instrument being a jazz rarity. Though each virtuoso may have deserved equal time, Duncan resembled George Orwell’s pig in “Animal Farm” — more equal than the others.

Together, Krall and crew romped through two unbroken hours of songs, coaxing a good third of them into the showstopper category.

With the best of the best being Tom Waits’ “Temptation,” which spotlighted each guy in electrifying — and sometimes electrified — solo riffs.

Krall, who switched periodically from piano to synthesizer to create a countrified twang or clipped rock ‘n’ roll beat, dipped heavily into standards, a mainstay of her previous concerts — in this case such classics as “Exactly Like You,” “Deed I Do” and “On the Sunny Side of the Street.”

She also invoked the ghosts of Oscar Peterson, playing a few lightning-fast bars from an arrangement of his before claiming she hadn’t learned more, and Nat King Cole, paying homage to that singer-pianist via “You Call It Madness But I Call It Love.”

Only for an instant did she border on boring me — with two straight extracts from the “Wallflower” album.

Instead of sticking with historic conventions, she’d undoubtedly have done better using The Mamas and The Papas’ “California Dreamin’” and The Eagles’ “Desperado” as springboards to jazz inventions like those that thrust her into celebrity.

During the show, a large screen at stage rear projected static wallflowers, blossoming flora and a stylized shot of her twin boys.

I found those accents superfluous to the musical marvels onstage.

Ditto the lights that occasionally blinked from the amps.

I enjoyed, however, Krall’s drawing laughs by inserting strains of “Moon River” into a tune she admitted was “not usually known as a funny song,” and smiles from a confession that “my left hand and my right hand aren’t talking to each other very well.”

I also loved the frequent, idiosyncratic flipping of her long dirty-blonde locks from her face.

And I smiled admiringly when she took her bows alongside her backups — Duncan; guitarist Anthony Wilson; bassist Dennis Crouch; drummer Karriem Riggins; and keyboardist Patrick Warren — rather than alone.

As I look back, I think this Sonoma County performance outranks my previous favorite, a freebie Stern Grove outing in San Francisco where not even the heat or mosquitos could quash my Krall pleasure.

This time, she, who’s been married since 2003 to chartbusting pop-rock singer Elvis Costello and who’s sold more than 15 million albums worldwide, ended a 20-minute encore with “Ophelia,” which again brought the sold-out Person Theater crowd of more than 1,600 to its feet as a single unit.

That segment also had included a swingin’ version of  “The Frim Fram Sauce,” which had been popularized by Cole, and a snoozer, Bob Dylan’s “Wallflower.”

Some fault-finders are hell bent on chastising Krall for “selling out” by concocting a heavily stringed, non-jazzy pop album.

Almost as stubbornly as denigrators bombarded Dylan when he switched to electric guitar.

Count me not among them — in either case.

Upcoming star turns at the Person Theater of the Wells Fargo Center, 50 Mark West Springs Road, Santa Rosa, will include comedian Lewis Black’s “The Rant Is Due: Part Deux” on Sept. 11, vocalist Frank Sinatra Jr.’s “Sinatra Sings Sinatra” on Oct. 8, and Rosanne Cash with John Leventhal on Oct. 16.  Information: www.wellsfargocenterarts.org or 1-707-546-3600.

Contact Woody Weingarten at voodee@sbcglobal.net or www.vitalitypress.com/

Cal Shakes has fun with ‘Irma Vep’

By Judy Richter

“The Mystery of Irma Vep,” aka “Irma Vep” and subtitled “A Penny Dreadful,” is the late Charles Ludlam’s spoof of Victorian melodrama, old-time horror movies and more.

California Shakespeare Theater has fun with the show, thanks to direction by Jonathan Moscone and his versatile two-man cast, who play all characters of both genders.

The story takes place in Mandacrest, a spooky country estate owned by Lord Edgar Hillcrest (Liam Vincent), who has remarried after the death of his wife three years earlier. His new wife is Lady Enid (Danny Scheie).

The estate is staffed by Jane Twisden (Vincent), the housekeeper; and Nicodemus Underwood (Scheie), the caretaker.

A portrait of Lord Edgar’s first wife, Irma, looms over the massive stone fireplace. She and their young son were killed by a wolf, or perhaps a werewolf.

For various reasons, Lord Edgar, an Egyptologist, goes to an Egyptian tomb, where he finds a mummy and takes it back to Mandacrest. His guide there is Alcazar (Scheie).

Literary allusions to the likes of James Joyce, Edgar Allan Poe, Oscar Wilde, Henrik Ibsen and William Shakespeare abound in the script, as do cinematic borrowings from “Gaslight,” “Rebecca” and “Wuthering Heights.”

They’re all part of the fun, but the greatest fun comes from the two actors, who often make split-second character changes. It would be interesting to peer backstage and watch as dressers help them with their transformations. Credit to costume designer Katherine Roth for her role here.

Vincent and Scheie are both Cal Shakes favorites. Here, Vincent tends to play all of his parts fairly straight. Scheie, on the other hand, tends to flounce and mug, as he is wont to do.

The detailed set is by Douglas Schmidt with mood lighting by Alex Nichols. The sound by Cliff Caruthers features some scary storms.

This is Moscone”s last hurrah as artistic director of Cal Shakes. During his 16 seasons at its helm, the company has made great strides artistically, upgraded its theater and expanded its community outreach.

He is moving his artistic home across the bay t oSan Francisco’s Yerba Center for the Arts, where he will become chief of civic engagement. His successor has not been named.

He will be greatly missed, but one can hope that he will still be available to direct occasionally.

“Irma Vep” runs about two hours and 10 minutes with one intermission.

It will continue through Sept. 6 at Bruns Memorial Amphitheater, 100 California Shakespeare Way (off Hwy.24), Orinda. For tickets and information, call (510) 548-9666 or visit www.calshakes.org.