STAGE REVIEW: EQUIVOCATION



Sharpe (Dane Oliver) and Nate (Alan Blumenfeld) in Equivocatoin. Photo by Ian Flanders.



Anonymous anyone?

 

By Ed Rampell

 

This summer, to celebrate the 450^th anniversary of the playwright and poet from Stratford-upon-Avon’s birth, Will Geer’s Theatricum Botanicum presented an all-Shakespeare-all-the-time repertory season at its leafy amphitheater perched in Topanga Canyon. (Usually WGTB varies its annual program with a mixture of Shakespearean, other classic and original plays.) The final work of the lot is not by, but rather about, the Bard -- or a reasonable facsimile thereof.

 

Ted Barton, who’d previously portrayed the dramatist at WGTB’s July ceremony honoring William Shakespeare’s birth, plays a similarly named wordsmith, “Shagspeare,” in award winning palywriter Bill Cain’s Equivocation. This two-act drama with some humorous touches imagines a Shakespeare-like playwright receiving what is literally a command performance: A royal commission to write about Guy Fawkes and England’s 1605 Gunpowder Plot, a piece of agitprop that presents the government’s point of view, to be performed by the theatre company Shagspeare belongs to.

 

The Gunpowder Plot was an actual conspiracy to blow up King James and the Houses of Parliament that took place while Shakespeare was still alive. In any case, it’s beyond the scope of this review to go into details about the revolutionary scheme, but many readers will be familiar with Guy Fawkes masks, which depict a smirking face with a mustache upturned at each end and a goatee. These masks were popularized in the 2006 movie Vendetta and more recently have adorned the faces of protesters, from Occupy Wall Street to Anonymous, et al.

 

Shagspeare -- or “Shag”, as he is called for short (or perhaps in homage to the Tiki Pop artist of that name?) -- is, as stated, a member of a theatre company. Equivocation is at its thought provoking best when it ponders the role of theater and politics, plays and propaganda, or, to paraphrase Lenin, “the stage and revolution.” There is swordplay as well as wordplay, including a definition of what equivocation means that this reviewer had never considered before.

 

The work, which lasts about two and a half hours or so, is extremely complex, even convoluted, and this critic found it difficult to follow. This complexity is compounded by a play within a play, as at one point the troupe of thesps performs a truncated version of Macbeth. Although the cast consists of only six (small by Theatricum standards), it seems that at least some of the actors play multiple roles. If this reviewer understood that aspect of the production correctly, the playbill (say, were these publications named after Shakespeare? inquiring minds want to know) only listed one role per thesp, which only adds to the confusion. One can guess that all of the above reflects the fact that Bill Cain is, literally, a Jesuit priest.

 

In addition to probing the role of art vis-à-vis politics, nine years after the 400^th anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot the play’s plot has interesting references to our 21^st century world. There is the torture that has filled the stage and screen (think, for example, 24 and Jack Bauer) since the Cheney-Bush regime got into the euphemistically named “enhanced interrogation” biz at Guantanamo and “black sites” that straddle (and strangle) the globe. Indeed, this is the second WGTB production this summer wherein torture is a plot point.

 

Even more ominously, like Aeschylus’ Persians-- which is on the boards at WGTB’s neighbor down the long and winding road a bit at Malibu -- Equivocation also depicts a beheading. Both of these decapitations are occurring onstage just as ISIS maniacs are making videos (with “high production values”, as newscasters/propagandists for some reason rarely fail to point out) of the poor Western journalists and aid workers whose heads these terrorists are busy chopping off.

 

Furthermore, Equivocation was launched shortly before the referendum on independence for Scotland which, like the Gunpowder Plot, had the potential to greatly alter what is now call the United Kingdom. Even more eerie is the fact that as previously mentioned, Equivocation stages bits of Macbeth, which is nicknamed “the Scottish play.”

 

Barton is fine as the pantalooned Shag, as is Taylor Jackson Ross as his daughter. Judith, who is, alas, the ensemble’s only female member (unless you include a brief drag sequence -- after all, in Shakespeare’s day, all of the roles were depicted at the Globe by males). The interplay between father and daughter has something of a Shakespearean quality, a bit in the mode of King Lear (which is also on the repertory’s roster this season). Alan Blumenfeld is able as the ailing Nate and full of the romping pomposity this seasoned actor emanates in his more comic roles. As Sharpe, Dane Oliver steals many of the scenes he’s in as a preternaturally hammy, preening “ac-teur!” Mike Peebler deftly directs this complicated stew that this reviewer, fan as he is of the Theatricum, only wishes he could more unequivocally recommend to avid amphitheatergoers. Until next summer, this erstwhile critic bids his favorite theatre company adieu!

 

Equivocation runs through Oct. 4 at Will Geer’s Theatricum Botanicum: 1419 N. Topanga Canyon Blvd., Topanga, California, 90290. For repertory schedule and other information: 310)-55-3723; www.Theatricum.com.

 

 

THEATER REVIEW: LEAR

A scene from Lear.

A female gaze

By Ed Rampell

Hark! To paraphrase Juliet: “What light through yonder canyon breaks?” Why, it’s none other than the launching of the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum’s season at its Topanga Canyon outpost, which rather gloriously kicked off June 7 with a production of Lear, heralding the approach of summer with a quintet of Shakespearean productions to honor the Bard’s 450^thbirthday.

The Stratford-upon-Avon playwright’s masterpiece has been oft-produced on stage and screen. Theatricum artistic director Ellen Geer has adapted what may well be the most original version of Lear since  -- if not the First Folio -- since Jean-Luc Godard’s 1987 film co-starring Woody Allen, Norman Mailer, Burgess Meredith and Molly Ringwald as Cordelia. What makes the Theatricum’s Lear so offbeat is its gender role reversals. Here, the monarch is portrayed by a woman, with Geer herself in the title role, and Lear’s daughters all played by males: Theatricum veterans Aaron Hendry as Goneril and Christopher W. Jones as Regan, and relative newcomer Dane Oliver as a fresh-faced, sweet if tongue-tied Cordelia.

The  gender reassignment of some of the dramatic personae flows smoothly and in the case of Her Majesty, Britain (where Shakespeare’s tragedy takes place) has had female rulers such as Queen Victoria and both Elizabeths who reigned for long periods, including Buckingham Palace’s current occupant.

On the other hand, that Shakespearean shapeshifter, Ms. Mellora Marshall, once again plays a male character as a man. Last summer, the protean Marshall portrayed the bearded title character in Theatricum’s Merlin, Harbinger of Peace. As Eden (whom Shakespeare called Edgar), Geer also switches gears, as in much of the second act her character masquerades as a male beggar, a disguise necessitated by the treachery of Eden’s half-sister Igraine (Abby Craden plays the character Shakespeare called Edmond), who cravenly tricks their father, the Earl of Gloucester (Alan Blumenfeld), into believing that Eden is plotting against him.

Lear’s characters arguably commit Western theater’s biggest, most tragic mistakes since Oedipus plucked his eyes out at ancient Greek amphitheaters. Lear’s vanity, puffed up and inflated over the course of a lifetime of being susceptible to flattery as the monarch, leads to a colossal error when it comes to her offspring. Gloucester betrays a similar lapse in judgment. If power corrupts, absolute power corrupts the ego absolutely -- especially of an absolute monarch. It was Shakespeare’s existential genius to make his characters only able to think logically after going mad (paging R.D. Laing!) or able to see clearly after losing one’s eyesight (in what may be the Bard’s reference to Sophocles’ Oedipus the King).

The white-haired Geer’s energetic acting is extraordinary, full of vitality that belies and defies her years. To paraphrase the Soviet poet Vladimir Mayakovsky: “There’s no white hair in her soul.” Since your scribbler doesn’t get paid by the word, there’s only room to mention a few standouts in this cast of about 35 thespians. Like with Geer's performance, this reviewer has never seen Abby Craden do better whilst trodding the boards. Similar to her spell casting, creepy Morgana in last year’s Merlin, Craden’s spiteful, born-out-of-wedlock Igraine is a conniving, cunning schemer, determined to rise on the social totem pole by any means necessary. Romping about the bare stage apparently braless in Topanga, Craden’s character is one of those people who exploit their sexuality in order to attain self-seeking wishes, as she woos both of Lear’s married sons. Craden’s Igraine is sure to give you a migraine. As she says: "Now, gods, stand up for bastards!" indeed.

As the Earl of Gloucester, Blumenfeld is moving as a man who has been blinded -- literally. Geer is largely relegated to the background in Act I but splendidly comes alive in the second act, with scenes her Eden dominates. Depicting Lear’s Fool, Marshall, as usual, delivers the goods with another uncanny cross-dressing performance in what is a pivotal role, since during Europe’s medieval epoch court jesters were the only subjects allowed to publicly voice critiques of the crown and court. And if ever a crowned head needed a sound tongue lashing (albeit one with its barbs laced with and sugarcoated in humor), it is Lear, whose mistakes of epic proportion in judging character wreak havoc.

Ellen Geer’s and Marshall’s co-direction is likewise inspired, making full use of the Theatricum amphitheater’s space amidst Topanga Canyon’s sylvan glade. Lear’s madness scene on a rooftop is stunningly staged (although it had this fan fearing for Geer’s life!) and there is plenty of swordplay onstage and gamboling through the woods, as is this outdoor troupe’s hallmark. Val Miller’s period costuming enhances the ambiance, and it’s interesting to note that this production does not list a set designer per se in the credits. The sparse stage suggests Jerzy Grotowski’s “poor theater” -- but what the boards “lack” are more than made up for through a vivid use of the hilly woods, unified as an organic part of the action.

As this reviewer noted recently in his coverage of The Gondoliers at Sierra Madre Playhouse, it’s fascinating how ideas percolate up out of the primordial ooze of the collective unconscious. Works written centuries ago can take on new meanings and have enhanced relevancy when put into a modern context, striking contemporary chords. Currently, the “republican Monarchy” in Gilbert and Sullivan’s 1889 operetta can refer to today’s income inequality and wealth gap.

Similarly, the intercepting of messages, which plays a key role in Lear -- believed to have opened with Richard Burbage circa 1606 -- has an updated relevance for 21^stcentury auds. Although Lear’s intercepted messages are presumably written on parchment with a quill dipped in ink, and not emails, phone calls, etc., in our time one can relate this plot device to the phone hacking scandal of Rupert Murdoch’s media minions in the UK (even the royals’ phones were allegedly hacked), and to the whole brouhaha surrounding WikiLeaks and l’affaire Edward Snowden, with their releases of classified information. Indeed, the online publication that Glenn Greenwald and his First Look Media partners in thought crime have created is called The Intercept.

In addition to being William Shakespeare’s 450^th birthday, 2014 is being billed as the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum’s 40^th anniversary. Judging by the first play of its season celebrating the Bard, my favorite L.A. theater company proves, once again, that where there’s a will -- or two Wills -- there’s a way.

Lear runs through Oct. 4 at the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum: 1419 N. Topanga Canyon Blvd., Topanga, California, 90290. For repertory schedule and other information call: 310-455-3723 or see: www.Theatricum.com.

                                                  

THEATER REVIEW: A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM

Puck (Will Hickman) in A Midsummer Night's Dream.

Puck yes

By Ed Rampell

 

What is even the point of writing a review about such inspired madcap mystical mirthfulness? Honestly Dear Reader, you should save your reviewer the effort and simply just go see the concoction and confection that is the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The Geers’ effervescent version of the Bard’s dream-like yarn is such rip-roaring good fun that it should suffice to say, that if you love yourself and believe you deserve to have a good time, get thee to a Topanga amphitheater.

 

Yet review it I shall -- once more into the literary breaches, lads and lasses! Where shall I begin in describing this surreal romantic romp written with quill and ink way back when Amazons were female warriors and not online book retailers, and pixies not pixels reigned? William Shakespeare’s frothy supernatural tale with its plot about lovers blithely switching partners the way most people change their socks inspired Woody Allen’s 1982 A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy.

 

Costumer Katherine Crawford’s regalia -- especially of the motley crew of faeries -- is the best pixie-ish apparel this side of Tinkerbell. As usual, the troupe’s organized mayhem of mise-en-scene, co-directed by Willow Geer and her auntie, Mellora Marshall, takes full advantage of the surrounding woods and hills, literally putting the Botanicum into the Theatricum. But in this production the WGTB outdoes itself, offering something I haven’t seen before on this stage amidst the sylvan glade: Puck (played by the athletic Will Hickman) swings above the boards, Tarzan-like, on a tree-attached rope -- not a vine, although the theatrical effect remains divine.

 

Although methinks A Midsummer Night’s Dream is age appropriate for children of all ages, the opening is quite sensuous with sinewy, sexy Sydney Mason as Hippolyta, queen of the Amazons, adorned by war paint in a revealing outfit, embracing Theseus, duke of Athens (the lucky J.B. Waterman; Valeka Holt generally plays Hippolyta). Leaping leopards -- a sort of leopard skin-garbed, war whooping Tanya Edwards is a standout in the ensemble of Amazons.

 

The shape shifting Mellora Marshall, who sheds genders the way we mere mortals change garments, surpasses herself here, playing a character who isn’t even human. The grand Marshall is neither a man nor a woman -- portraying Titania, she is Oberon’s fairy queen. As Helena, Marshall’s co-helmer, Willow Geer, is confronted by a creative challenge: Somehow this young woman who is, offstage, a radiant redheaded beauty, must somehow convince audiences she is a plain Jane. That through her dramatic sleight-of-hand Willow manages to do so is proof that she’s one of L.A. finest stage actresses.

 

And now we come to the bottom of Will’s bill, with Katherine Griffith’s hilarious cross-gender turn as the male, mustachioed, bellowing Bottom. Shakespeare, of course, slyly comments on the art of acting and those who do it in Hamlet, wherein “the play’s the thing.” The Bard also does so in A Midsummer Night’s Dream: Bottom is part of an itinerant troupe of actors (or something or other) who perform a play-within-the-play about the Roman mythological characters Pyramus and Thisbe (Ovid tells their tale in his Metamorphoses) to celebrate the nuptials of Theseus and Hippolyta and company. Griffith’s Bottom is a bottomless pit of ego magically transformed by some stage effects into Shakespeare’s notion of what the playwright thought of hammy actors.

 

To be sure, the Botanicum Theatricum, as usual, does the Bard proud. Nevertheless, the most magical thing about A Midsummer Night’s Dream is Shakespeare’s vision and his deathless dialogue. Go Puck yourselves and allow the enchanting, irreverent revels of this tidbit of Topanga tomfoolery cast a spell on you.

 

 

A Midsummer Night’s Dream is runs through Sept. 28 at the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum: 1419 N. Topanga Canyon Blvd., Topanga, California, 90290. For more information: 310-455-3723; www.Theatricum.com.

 

THEATER REVIEW: THE ROYAL FAMILY

A scene from The Royal Family.

Wise-eyed Geer

 

By Ed Rampell

 

George S. Kaufman and Edna Ferber’s 1927 The Royal Family is a love letter to the act of acting, and, in particular, to the actors and actresses who trod the boards and appear onscreen. Modeled after the Barrymore clan, The Royal Family'sCavendishes are the first family of America’s thespians. Greasepaint coursing through their blood they are theatrical in every sense of the term, as well as free spirits similar to the Sycamores in the anarchistic screwball comedy You Can’t Take It With You, which Kaufman co-wrote with Moss Hart for the stage in 1936 and with Robert Riskin for the screen in 1938 (co-starring a certain Lionel Barrymore, BTW).

 

Who better to incarnate this dynasty of performers than members of the House -- or, rather, amphitheater -- of Geer, a real life line of stage of screen artistes, descended from legendary, lanky Will Geer (1954’s The Salt of the Earth, 1972’s Jeremiah Johnson, and ultimately as America’s beloved über-grandpa from 1972-1978 on TV’s The Waltons)? Ellen Geer, the venerable Artistic Director of theWill Geer’s Theatricum Botanicum, plays Fanny, the aging, ailing, grand dame of the thee-a-tuh and matriarch of the Cavendishes. Ellen’s sister, Melora Marshall -- a shape shifting actress known, among other things, for her gender bending roles (she portrays the male character Grumio in The Taming of the Shrew, one of the other plays this troupe is presenting in repertory this summer) -- here plays Fanny’s daughter, actress Julie Cavendish. Willow Geer -- who, offstage, is Ellen’s actual daughter and Marshall’s niece -- portrays ingénue Gwen Cavendish, the onstage child of Julie at the beginning of her acting career.

 

The Geers’ in-law, Abby Craden, depicts Kitty Dean, who is dissed and disdained by the Cavendishes for committing the unforgivable, heinous crime of being a lousy actress. This presents an artistic challenge for Craden -- who has portrayed Cleopatra and Queen Elizabeth in Theatricum Shakespearean productions and also appeared in numerous plays presented by the A Noise Within company -- because Craden actually is quite a good player.

 

The Royal Family's action takes place entirely in the Cavendishes’ sprawling home. Comebacks, romances, premieres and more things than are dreamt of in your philosophy are hatched on the premises in this madcap comedy and merry meditation on the nature of celebrity. The Cavendishes are fiendishly funny, hammy, scenery-chewing, attention seeking troupers, for whom the play’s the thing (along with the moolah, adulation, and gratification applause brings). If Fanny is patterned after Ethel Barrymore (who threatened to sue the playwrights and after Royal’sBroadway premiere “only nodded coolly to Kaufman when the two met at parties,” according to Howard Teichmann’s biography of the writer), then Tony Cavendish is clearly inspired by that matinee idol, John Barrymore.

 

The estimable Aaron Hendry’s two-fisted Tony steals ever single scene he’s in, like Winona Ryder let loose in Saks Fifth Avenue. Hendry, who also plays Petruchio this season in the Theatricum’s Taming of the Shrew, portrays his swashbuckling character with great panache, and is heaps of fun to watch in every scene he steals, dashing from brawls, paparazzi and lovers seeking to serve him legal papers for “breach of promise” lawsuits. Both playwrights knew Drew’s forebears, the Barrymores, but there is scant if any mention by Kaufman and Ferber of the carousing John Barrymore’s legendary, prodigious drinking. Their farce focuses on the foibles of actors by trade, and in particular on the few who attain stardom and are firmly fixed in the public eye.

 

The stage and screen credits of Kaufman, of course, include the Marx Brothers’ The Cocoanuts, Animal Crackers, A Night at the Opera and A Day at the Races, as well as Dinner at Eight (with Ferber), Nothing Sacred, The Man Who Came to Dinner and other classics. Ferber, who likewise was a mid-Westerner with a German-Jewish and newspaper background, was also a novelist who wrote the books Show Boat, Giant and Cimarron, which were adapted for the screen. A film version of their The Royal Family was directed by George Cukor in 1930 and in 1977 there was a TV movie version. Given today’s snaparazzi and the TMZ, tabloid press with TMI about celebs, it would be a hoot to update this 86-year-old play.

 

In any case, Susan Angelo ably directs what is now a period piece, with a cast that includes Theatricum alum Alan Blumenfeld as Oscar Wolfe, a commercial theatrical producer who yet dreams of producing at least one play with redeeming artistic value. Tim Halligan drolly depicts the over-the-hill Herbert Dean who dreams of returning to the limelight. Andy Stokan and Bill Gunther both play the long suffering suitors of, respectively, Gwen and Julie, who have the impossible task of competing for their affections with the smell of the greasepaint and the roar of the crowd.

  

The Royal Family is delicious fun with the Geers in fine form and moving in high Geer. This is a rollicking, royal romp full of Bohemian bonhomie, an ode to those who have been bitten by the acting bug -- and to those of us who enjoy watching them prance about on- and offstage in their not-so-private lives.

 

 

The Royal Family runs through Sept. 28 at the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum: 1419 N. Topanga Canyon Blvd., Topanga, California, 90290. For repertory schedule and other information call: 310-455-3723 or see: www.Theatricum.com.

 

THEATER REVIEW: THE TAMING OF THE SHREW

A scene from The Taming of the Shrew.

For the birds

By Ed Rampell

“Hark! What light breaks through yonder canyon?” Why, it’s none other than another repertory season of revels and revelations at Will Geer’s Theatricum Botanicum, made glorious summer by these sons and daughters of Geers.

As I’ve written for years, no summer in Los Angeles is complete without a stage sojourn to the Theatricum and this remains true as ever for 2013’s theatergoers. There’s nothing quite like seeing Shakespeare under the stars in that rustic amphitheatre nestled in Topanga Canyon. Never ones to shrink from controversy, the Theatricum has launched its 40^th Anniversary Repertory Season with one of the Bard’s most contentious plays: The Taming of the Shrew.

Let me say from the outset that the mise-en-scene, which creatively makes use of the natural surroundings, the music, the period costumes (I’m always up for traveling back in time to the Renaissance) and the acting are up this equity house’s usual high standards. As Grumio the sly cross-dressing Melora Marshall humorously plays yet another male character. Raven-haired Willow Geer -- who has trod the boards in many a Bard play and is arguably one of Los Angeles’ finest theater actresses -- is superb as the fiery, strong-willed (and did I forget to say sexy?) Katharina. Willow can heave her bosom with the best of them, and coming up against this force of nature is another Theatricum veteran, Aaron Hendry, as Petruchio, who seeks to woo, wed and domesticate this fireball.

The troupe’s venerable Artistic Director, Ellen Geer, presides over the organized mayhem of this naughty, bawdy, rowdy farce with her usual astute aplomb. In the playbill’s “Director’s Notes” Ms. Geer -- a Shakespearean expert -- observes that there are “many points of view” about The Taming of the Shrew, which is indeed subject to interpretation. One point of view is that in this play about the eternal war between the sexes where Petruchio subdues and subjugates Katharina to his will. Backstage, after the show, Hendry told this critic that Petruchio could be considered to be a “misogynist."

In the story Katharina, the “shrew-ish” title character, is an acid-tongued, temperamental woman used to having and getting her way in Padua. Or, she is a proto-feminist, free spirited and determined to live life on her own terms. However, she is coerced against what appears to be her will to enter into an arranged marriage on very short notice with Petruchio. He is no gentleman from Verona, and after marrying Kate, literally uses Guantanamo-type (I kid thee not) “enhanced interrogation” methods to break her spirit, including sleep and food deprivation.

The reader may feel that, to paraphrase Queen Gertrude: “The critic doth protest too much, methinks.” To be fair to the production, Hendry does succeed in conveying a sense that Petruchio is genuinely smitten with Katharina. And when they lip lock one can sense that both characters feel a libidinal thrill.

However, at one point Kate shrieks at the top of her lungs that she wants to be “free!!!”

Here, here -- hear, hear the voice of women throughout the ages struggling for their rights, to be treated as equals, not chattel!

To be sure, the Theatricum’s version is a romp, but many of the jokes may stick in your craw. The subjugation of human beings is never a laughing matter to be taken lightly -- although there are those who argue that Kate bests her loutish husband by using submissiveness as a ruse to -- as ever -- get her own way. But what would we say if Shakespeare had titled The Merchant of Venice “The Taming of the Jew”? Some of this tale of domination is frankly disturbing to my egalitarian, anarchistic sensibility. But as far as the Theatricum’s production goes, to paraphrase Cassius:

“The fault, dear Bard,
Is not in the staging
But in our text.”

The Taming of the Shrew runs through Sept. 29 at the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum: 1419 N. Topanga Canyon Blvd., Topanga, California, 90290. For more information: 310-455-3723; www.Theatricum.com.

 

 

THEATER REVIEW: WHAT DO YOU DREAM OF?

Gerald Rivers in What Do You Dream Of?

From the mountaintop

By Ed Rampell

During the long imprisonment of her husband, Nelson Mandela, Winnie Mandela felt like “Part of my soul went with him,” as the title of her autobiography put it. In the same vein, when Dr. Martin Luther King’s life was cut short and the Civil Rights leader was taken away from us by an assassin’s bullet in 1968, part of America’s collective soul went with him. I truly don’t think the USA has ever recovered from the loss of such a moral compass, who could speak truth to power so authoritatively, persuasively -- and eloquently.

But for one night only, this one-of-a-kind apostle of peace will live again onstage during Gerald Rivers’ (almost) one man show What Do You Dream Of?Dr. King called America the world’s “greatest purveyor of violence” and Rivers is surely the planet’s greatest purveyor of this prophet of nonviolence in the entire arts world. With a smidgen of poet Samuel Coleridge’s “willing suspension of disbelief,” for 90 minutes or so Rivers’ uncanny impressions of the noble Nobel Peace Prize winner seems to bring King back to life.

According to Ellen Geer, Artistic Director of the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum, “the Martin Luther King estate adores Gerald. They really opened the literature to him… The library is open to him; all of Martin Luther King’s works, so that should say something,” especially considering that the King family is noted for its tightfisted control and copyrighting of the slain patriarch’s literary legacy.

The MLK speeches Rivers draws upon during his production include: “I Have A Dream”; “Funtown USA”; "The Street Sweeper"; and “American Dream.” Two songs were written especially for the Theatricum show: "Dare to Dream" by Jeffrina Oakes and "MLK Saved the Day," written by 13-year-old Miles McAliley.

Although essentially a one man show, the play includes African and Asian dance numbers. What Do You Dream Of?is playing July 27 at the Theatricum’s smaller 100-ish seat “Under the Oaks” amphitheatre for a special one night only performance as a fundraiser for the Topanga theatre company.

Geer, who was interviewed in front of Woody Guthrie’s cabin at the Topanga grounds, goes on to say, “Gerald has become very important, because of the way he delivers, and the power behind when he does Martin Luther King’s speeches is quite profound… He understands how to drum up that wonderful energy Martin Luther King had to engage a large group of people… And he’s created this piece, and his children are in it this year. His daughter, who is an intern here with us, and his son, who was an intern last year” at the Theatricum, which not only presents Shakespeare and more under the stars in its twin Topanga amphitheatres, but also trains young talents who aspire to work in the theatre.

As stellar as Rivers’ depiction of MLK is, he is no one-trick pony. Rivers is a longtime member of the Theatricum’s troupe of thespians, who appears this summer in the theatre company’s rollicking production of Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure, which takes artistic liberties and under Ellen’s tutelage, is reset from Elizabethan London circa 1603 to counterculture California during the sizzling 1960s. Rivers appears as King at the opening of the updated Measure for Measure, “then he plays a pimp; it’s a beautiful switch,” laughs Geer, as Rivers depicts a Blaxploitation type of procurer during most of Shakespeare’s bawdy comedy.

During What Do You Dream Of?the dreadlocked Gerald also portrays a Southern Grandmother (in a tribute to all grandmas); a man (Sherman Tank) incarcerated along with Dr. King; MLK’s daughter, Yolanda; plus “Dreamawonde,” the ancient African Griot, with his father “Azanti.” But of course, the highlight is when not-so-old-man Rivers brings that shining prince of peace ever so back to life. For an hour and a half or so, through the magic of live theatre, viewers’ hearts can stop aching from the loss of our beloved dreamer and ever so briefly, our souls can soar again towards that long, lost “Beloved Community” Dr. King rhapsodized about. Rivers’ play allows us to fly back up the mountaintop and, as Hamlet put it, “Perchance to dream.”


What Do You Dream Of?will be performed tonight, 8 p.m., at the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum: 1419 N. Topanga Canyon Blvd., Topanga, California, 90290. For information: 310/455-3723; www.Theatricum.com.

THEATER REVIEW: HEARTBREAK HOUSE

Hector (Mark Lewis) and Hesione (Melora Marshall) in Heartbreak House.

Shaw are screwball

By Ed Rampell

I was especially eager and curious to see the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum’s excellent adaptation of Heartbreak House because I know little about George Bernard Shaw beyond his plays, Major Barbara and Pygmalion. To be sure, Heartbreak House is veddy British, and the Theatricum troupe regales the audience with convincing English accents, although its thespians are mostly or all Yanks. But there’s much more to this work than being a mere drawing-room comedy of manners.

Shaw wrote Heartbreak House under the influence of playwright Anton Chekhov, subtitling it A Fantasia in the Russian Manner of English Themes. However, Heartbreak House seems in turn to have had a major impact on American screenwriting and playwriting: It is arguably the prototypical screwball comedy, a genre which hit its prime on the silver screen during the Great Depression. Shaw’s play has the attributes of this breed of humor, notable for its madcap perspective and cross-class romancing, such as in Frank Capra’s 1934 It Happened One Night and George Cukor’s 1940 The Philadelphia Story. Indeed, Heartbreak House’s Bohemian household seems to be forerunners of the wacky, freethinking Sycamore family in Moss Hart and George S. Kaufman’s 1937 play You Can’t Take It With You, which Capra adapted for the screen a year later.

Heartbreak House debuted just as the twenties started to roar, and must have seemed very libertine in its day. With its shifting romantic liaisons, dalliances and alliances, the play seems as sexually footloose as characters in Woody Allen films, particularly his 1982 A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy.  The play is largely seen as an allegory of Europe on the eve of destruction, as World War I, that charnel house of trench warfare and poison gas (the WMDs of its day),looms. This conflagration is hinted at near the end, wherein director Ellen Geer makes good use of the Topanga Canyon grounds where the Theatricum’s amphitheater is set. In any case, what especially interests me about Shaw is that he takes complex theories about economics and class and renders them in dramatic form in a popular mass entertainment medium.

For example, in 1913’s Pygmalion, smug middle class Prof. Henry Higgins, that cunning linguist, indulges in class struggle (as well as the war between the sexes) with the plebian flower girl Eliza Doolittle, whom he endeavors to convert from a guttersnipe into a well mannered repository of respectability. (Along with Moss Hart, Lerner and Lowe famously transformed Pygmalion into the beloved musical My Fair Lady; incidentally, Rex Harrison starred in screen versions of My Fair Lady in 1964 and of Heartbreak House in 1985.) In 1905’s Major Barbara Shaw, a man of the left, dramatizes an economic theory about the role the armaments industry plays in industrial capitalism that is similar to that of the German Spartacist Rosa Luxemburg.

Shaw similarly skewers capitalism in Heartbreak House, and Alan Blumenfeld has good fun deconstructing Boss Mangan. At the heart of the play is whether or not the far younger and more attractive Ellie Dunn (Willow Geer) should wed this presumed man of means. Shaw poses the predicament: Is one to marry for money or love? He also reveals the dilemma of women during that era, disadvantaged by society’s chauvinist conventions and constrictions, and how marriages of conveniences were among the few options open to the so-called “fairer sex.”

Heartbreak House also references race relations. Captain Shotover, the world rover, mentions that he married a “Negress” in the Caribbean, which would make his coquettish daughters with their Greek myth inspired names, depicted by the Caucasian actresses Ariadne Utterword (Susan Angelo) and Hesione Hushabye (Melora Marshall), biracial. However, unlike in the Theatricum’s version of Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure, also playing this summer in repertory, the themes of miscegenation and race are barely if at all explored in its Heartbreak House.

To my untutored ear Willow affects a flawless English accent, as does most of the cast, as they toss Shavian barbs about like so many verbal Molotov cocktails. Willow’s Ellie convincingly careens from girlish innocence to Lady MacBeth-like scheming. As the family patriarch, Captain Shotover, Hunt is alternately daft and worldly wise, and dispenses some indispensable pearls of wisdom to befuddled Ellie. Mark Lewis is suitably dashing as the rakish raconteur Hector Hushabye, while Ed Giron as the bungling burglar, Aaron Hendry as Randall Utterword and David Stifel as Mazzini Dunn, all have suitably comic turns. On opening night some of the best dialogue was delivered by a dog who repeatedly barked during the first scene -- before adlibbing lines in a droll improv that led to the canine thespian’s expulsion from the stage.

Ellen skillfully helms the ensemble cast of around 15, but one standout who demands to be remarked upon is the mellifluous Marshall, who marshals her considerable energy and talent like a preternaturally gifted shape shifter. In the Theatricum’s Measure for Measure Marshall plays a mustachioed male character, but in Heartbreak House she portrays one of Captain Shotover’s daughters, the eccentric seductress Hesione Hushabye. As she slings zingers with savoir faire, clad in her gown and wig of long black tresses, Marshall is simply unrecognizable from the Lucio she depicts in Measure for Measure. A non-actor can only marvel at how thespians can transmute themselves from one role to another completely different, even diametrically opposed part.

There is much to commend this play to the viewer, but Marshall’s performance alone is worth the ticket price. This type of sophisticated theater driven by the oral pyrotechnics of Shaw’s dialogue may not be everyone’s cup of tea and crumpets, but to them I say “pshaw!” I loved this sparkling, sexy, witty gem.

Heartbreak House runs through September 30 at the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum, 1419 N. Topanga Canyon Blvd., Topanga. For more information: 310/455-3723; www.Theatricum.com.