by Geoffrey Paddy Johnson on April 29, 2012
There’s much more than a touch of Raymond Chandler’s Philip Marlowe in the character of Katharine Sherman‘s Christopher Marlowe in her new play, Christopher Marlowe’s Chloroform Dreams, running at the lower east side’s The Red Room. The time-and-smoke shrouded legend of the Elizabethan playwright hangs over the proceedings and propels the story all the way, and then nearly, to its end. Familiar tropes from classical mythology and fairy tale erupt everywhere in a noiresque style tale of a femme who is at once fatale and in flight. Mix in more than a strain of poetic patter and the result might be ponderous, over rich and over-reaching if it weren’t from the pen of a careful, gifted playwright who has a sharpened sense of when to call off the big thunderous themes to allow the smaller human story to breathe. Sherman is excellently served in this production by director Philip Gates who has done a great deal to let this highly theatrical, complexly structured drama flow. And flow it does, like silk, like smoke.
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by The Happiest Medium on March 3, 2012
The Happiest Medium review by guest contributor Katelyn Manfre
For those of us tucked up in the Northeast part of the country, Hurricane Katrina is a distant memory, a tragedy of nearly a decade ago. But for those still feeling the effects down South its presence is constant. Siobhan O’Louglin gives a voice to the personal stories in her solo show, The Rope in Your Hands (playing at The Red Room). Through thirteen different first-hand survivor accounts, O’Loughlin deftly moves through the before and after of one of the most devastating disasters in recent memory.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on March 1, 2012
When you read that the title of a play is as blatant as Stripper Lesbians you might be led to believe that what you are about to see is nothing more than a show which has women in various states of undress (personally or professionally), making out a lot. However, read further to “Rising Sun Performance Company” and your perspective quickly changes. Sure, the show is sexy, shows a lot of skin, and has no problem exploring the more intimate moments of the relationship, but Rising Sun’s inherent intelligence as an ensemble ensures that your skin is served up with a side of thoughtful, though-provoking drama which explores the title rather than exploits it.
So, who are these stripper lesbians of the title?
First there’s Evan (Amanda Berry). She strips, of course, but identifies herself first and foremost as a woman’s studies major. After all, she wouldn’t even be stripping if she wasn’t writing her senior thesis (cleverly titled “Stripper Lesbians”) as an insider’s exposé on what it’s like to be dating a sex worker.
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by Geoffrey Paddy Johnson on February 29, 2012
Little Lady featuring Sandrine Lafond (Photo credit Paolo A. Santos)
I can’t remember, before this show, the last time I saw an adult person unhesitatingly put their whole big toe in their mouth and suck on it with a sense of blissful satisfaction. You can marvel at the flexibility of such a feat even as you cavil at the notion of exactly how clean, now, was that toe before it went in to that mouth. This combination of awe and uncomfortable personal fastidiousness is what Sandrine Lafond, the performer and creator of Little Lady, is happy to promote. She wants to hold you in a spell of fascination as she pricks away at your comfort levels, never allowing you to lapse into a passive, carefree enjoyment of her performance. Perhaps it’s her butoh training at work, or perhaps she’s artfully channelling a sense of anger stemming from her experience as a female performer. Either way she has devised in this one woman piece a highly individual performance of peculiar distinction.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on February 29, 2012
Man Saved By Condiments by Mary Jo Pehl is a dramatization of the true story of a man whose car went off a bridge while he was on his way to work. With a broke his hip, no cell phone and no one aware of where he was, he survived for five days by eating snow and the packets of condiments he found strewn around the floor of his garbage heap that passes for a car.
The solo show, directed by Bill Stiteler, starts off a bit clumsily as every thought is expressed aloud by Steve (Tim Uren) for the sake of the constructs of the play. While the back story explains that in order to stay sane the man talks to himself the device is somewhat forced for the sake of theatricality. It also doesn’t help that Steve is somewhat unlikable and not particularly introspective. He’s got a chip on his shoulder and (as bits of his life are revealed through the various moments when he’s either talking to himself, chatting with squirrels or railing at God) there’s not much redeeming about him.
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by The Happiest Medium on February 29, 2012
The Happiest Medium review by guest contributor Katelyn Manfre.
Canadian import Rachelle Elie enjoys being a woman. She especially enjoys her run-of-the-mill feminine pastimes: trying on sparkly dresses with eye makeup to match, dancing seductively to Ke$ha on a fur carpet, and hydrating with imported bottled water. She’s married to an Obstetrician/Gynecologist, has two lovely sons, and is, for all intents and purposes, living the dream.
Served with a side of audience discomfort, Elie’s solo show, Big Girls Don’t Cry (playing at The Red Room), is an insightful, if slightly off-putting insight into the psyche of the Modern Woman. Elie appears in what looks like a doll’s dress that lost a fight with a Bedazzler, knee-highs and platform slippers. She gapes and gasps her way through her basic biography, stopping every so often to sing or dance in a non-sequitur celebration of her womanhood. Questions are posed to the audience, and as she stares hard into each person’s eyes, she dares us to not be jealous of her in all her sparkle, and the beautiful life she has.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on February 27, 2012
Not everyone got the kind of name that looks good on a marquee or sounds good in the sentence ” … and the award for best actor goes to …”. And let’s all just admit it now: no one really knew how to pronounce “Gyllenhaal” till several movies in, and even then it took TWO siblings to get the world to say it properly. Twenty years later Demi Moore still has 50% of the population putting the accent on the wrong syllable.
So. Now imagine that you’re not that famous at all. Nowhere near. And you’re given a name that everyone mispronounces or mistakes for another name upon hearing it. Wouldn’t you change your name too? You would if you were Moe Rosen, writer and performer of I’m Only Explaining This Once, his solo-show currently playing at the Red Room.
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by The Happiest Medium on February 25, 2012
The Happiest Medium Review by Guest Contributor Linnea Covington
Afternoon Tea With Jane Austen (Photographer credit: Chris J. Hing)
Most little girls grow up reading the works of Jane Austen, be it Emma, Sense and Sensibility, or Pride and Prejudice. Some boys also read her stories, but usually that’s a school assignment. But, no matter how you digest this early 19th Century author, one thing remains consistent – you never learn much about her actual life. In Tali Brady’s one-woman play Afternoon Tea With Jane Austen, the Montreal-based actress and playwright attempts to share this history with you.
It’s an excellent way to become acquainted with Austen, and while Brady wrote a wonderfully fluid play chock full of personal details, fetching narratives, and historical information about the author, she doesn’t always execute her role as Austen well. The show started out slow as she bumbled around the who’s-who in Austen’s family, and even though she said herself that it was boring, it still shouldn’t have been. This isn’t because of the subject matter but more of Brady reciting her lines like she’s dictating instead of storytelling.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on February 23, 2012
The characters of this show may be tiny, a little wooden, and come off as a little stiff but Poe-Dunk: A Matchbox Entertainment is anything but rigid. In fact, this innovative, charming, engaging show by Playlab NYC directed by John Pieza is a lively piece of theatre thanks to the man behind the matches – Kevin P. Hale.
Hale conceived this show which can be though of as a trip at break-neck speed along the autobahn of Edgar Allan Poe works (in the course of an hour over 30 Poe works are mentioned, performed or touched upon). Hale is also the sole performer, voicing all the characters and maneuvering scores of itty-bitty matchstick puppets around their eensy-weensy sets. Don’t worry, though, thanks to a projector every microscopic bit of theatre is visible to the audience and there’s not a bad seat in the house.
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by The Happiest Medium on February 19, 2012
Five Questions. Five Answers. And One Big Decision: Rock, Paper, Or Scissors?
Stripper Lesbians
Company: Rising Sun Performance Company
Evan, a woman’s studies major, is writing a killer senior thesis– by becoming a stripper at her favorite strip club. In between her current girlfriend, a stripper-lesbian, and her ex boyfriend, an unemployed Tisch graduate, Evan dances the line between love and betrayal. A comedy about what it really means to be ‘in love with a stripper’ and what it means to become one.
Show Times:
- Wed 2/22 @ 11pm
- Sat 2/25 @ 6:30pm
- Mon 2/27 @ 11pm
- Thu 3/1 @ 8pm
- Sat 3/3 @ 3:30pm
Answers by: The Whole Gang!
(Because we’re an ensemble company,
we’re gonna answer this ensemble style!
Everyone’s got a little something to say!)
Karen Tortora-Lee’s Question
That’s some title. How did you come up with it – and what does it mean?
Kate Foster (The Playwright): The title was the joke that fit. When I was writing the play, I would tell interested parties I was writing about strippers and lesbians. People kept on giving me the classic double-take, so I had a feeling Stripper-Lesbians was onto something.
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