casebolt and smith’s O(h): Review for Stage and Cinema

My roommate Roxanne has urged me for months now to start a blog about all my theatrical adventures – seeing and critiquing shows, as well as occasionally composing and working on them myself, in LA and beyond. I hope this blog will be a valuable place for me to work through my ideas, since I often do my best thinking through writing. Hopefully it will be an interesting read for others, as well.

This is my 139th post. So I hope someone out there is reading!

Actually, I know several people who are reading, who have been advocates for my theater criticism from day one. Within the first month, Colin Mitchell gave me a huge boost of confidence and expanded my audience with a Bitter Lemons post on “The Democratization of Theatre Criticism.” Trevor Thomas, with whom I engaged in some early debates about objectivity in theater criticism, invited me to write for EDGE Los Angeles beginning in November 2010. John Topping and Tony Frankel invited me to join Stage and Cinema in March 2011. Some of my most rewarding professional relationships and friendships have emerged from my criticism over the past two years. Thank you all.

Since January 2010, I have reviewed theater and other performance events in Los Angeles, Orange County, San Diego, New York, and Chicago. I have written articles on the blogger-critic, repetitive theatergoing and fandom, and the art of listening. I have used this blog for unabashed self-promotion as I composed, music directed, and dramaturged from coast to coast. I even blogged my trip to Israel with Manny Azenberg and a bunch of “show business Jews” last summer.

But the heart of this blog is and always will be the criticism. From the very first post, I set out to write smart and accessible, personal and visceral reviews for a theatrical community that rarely gets the coverage it deserves in the mainstream media. I am not a paid “professional,” so try as I might, I can’t see and review it all. But I see a lot, review a lot, and think a lot. And I am thrilled by the increasingly porous boundaries across academia, professional criticism, and blogging.

Although the LADCC still has its qualms about blogger-critics, Princeton professor Jill Dolan was recently awarded the George Jean Nathan Award for Dramatic Criticism specifically for her blog The Feminist Spectator. There are so many reasons to praise the award committee’s decision. Dolan breaks down the binary between “educated” critics and “uneducated” bloggers, as well as between “objective” scholarship and “feeling” human beings. What’s more, Dolan is only the 7th woman to win this award in its 56 year history. As Karen Fricker writes in The Guardian, ”Much of the joy of the online Feminist Spectator comes from the sense of someone letting their hair down, writing with lucidity and freedom about whatever she bloody well pleases.” What a refreshing thought!

At the same time, the increasing recognition of blogger-critics is part and parcel of the death of theater criticism as a viable career. Only this past week, longtime critic Dany Margolies was let go by Backstage. It is a sobering realization that “professional critics” are increasingly freelancers, jumping from job to job, while “bloggers” are often constrained by time and funds, writing in their spare time for the occasional comp ticket. This is a false binary, but it serves a point: I sometimes wonder if I am blogging myself into an impossible future career in theater criticism.

Yet the critics who navigate this Catch 22 – whether as professionals or as bloggers – are often united by an unquenchable thirst for theater and a passion for dialogue and debate. For the writers who persevere in this strange new system, criticism is more than a job and and more than a hobby: it is an imperative. We write because we can’t imagine not writing.

Perhaps this is the democratization of theater criticism after all. If so, I’m honored to be a little part of it, and I look forward to the next chapter.

Apologies (and other grey areas): Review for Stage and Cinema

I have an accordingly conflicted relationship to A Very She & Him Christmas, which I started listening to the day after Thanksgiving. Zooey Deschanel and M. Ward’s album of 12 Christmas classics illuminates in the very best and worst of hipster culture. From the very album title, this indie duo overwrites and undermines the “Merry” of Christmas with a heavy dose of irony about the “most wonderful time of the year.” Check out Deschanel and Ward’s expressions on the album cover, as well: averting their eyes, deferring judgment with blank expressions. “We made a Christmas album, but it’s totally like whatever.”

A Very She & Him Christmas left me cold and a little irritated after the first listen. As cliche as it may be, Christmas is one of my favorite times of the year, particularly because music – whether sacred or secular – is such a ritual part of the holiday. She & Him seemed to be sucking the spirit out of the season with this album of careless, throwaway tracks.

Included in this secular set of songs are several of the most depressing holiday favorites, such as “Blue Christmas” and “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” Taken at oppressively slow tempi, even sappy sentimental songs like “The Christmas Waltz” and “Silver Bells” come across as flat and utterly futile attempts at happiness. Meanwhile, a playful gender-reversed “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” is taken at such breakneck speed that Zooey Deschanel spits out the lyrics with little musicality.

Oh, Zooey Deschanel. How I admire her quirky charm and intellect; how I respect her successfully bridging that gap between actor and musician. But her careless vocals are my greatest frustration with A Very She & Him Christmas. Songs seem to have been recorded in a single take, which often sounds sloppy rather than delightfully amateur. In one of the most vocally and instrumentally mechanical tracks of the album, Deschanel jerks rather than rocks around the Christmas tree. M. Ward sets Deschanel up for vocal failure on “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” and “The Christmas Song,” which are arranged in depressing keys too low for her voice. Even Deschanel’s layered harmonies – featured most prominently in “Christmas Day” – fail to lift the music to angelic heights.

I exaggerate, of course. A Very She & Him Christmas isn’t a bad album. The diverse instrumental textures, from rockabilly band to solo ukulele, keep things interesting; and the album is a welcome antidote to oppressively happy holiday hits. However, A Very She & Him Christmas remains a frustrating album for me – if only because I know She & Him are capable of making more professional and more passionate music.

Since that first encounter, I have been unable to listen to A Very She & Him Christmas without singing along, harmonizing with the album, almost in some odd attempt to elevate its spirits. My relationship to this album says a lot about my weird relationship to hipsters, which is both an affective embrace of the subculture and a critical distance. If I am on the margins of hipster subculture, then I am also on the margins of a musical theater subculture that could teach hipsters a thing or two. While the hipster bemoans a futile search for authenticity, the show queen celebrates the theatricality of life; while the hipster and sees the inevitable disappointments of Christmas, the show queen indulges in the musicality of the season.

A Very She & Him Christmas brings ironic gravity to the holidays, but perhaps She & Him could balance that gravity with some advice from Zooey Deschanel’s past: ”The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.” The holidays are never all sugar plums and candy canes, but sometimes in the very act of singing, we can find a momentary happiness that is at once utterly theatrical and utterly authentic. Let’s aim for those luminous moments this holiday season.

I always see more theater than I have the time to review, but here are my top 10 shows of 2011 – from LA to Chicago to NYC, from gritty black box theaters to Broadway stages.

10. The Comedy of Errors (Los Angeles Theatre Ensemble) – Review

Playing in the realm of contemporary pop culture, this free summer Shakespeare production had the audience roaring with laughter from start to finish. It’s perhaps no surprise that I saw The Comedy of Errors twice.

9. God of Carnage (Ahmanson Theater)

Yasmina Reza’s play snaps from a sophisticated realist dramedy to a brilliant physical satire of “modern” man. With a star studded cast direct from Broadway, God of Carnage was an unexpectedly explosive favorite this year. (While the stage show has more fireworks, Roman Polanski’s film Carnage offers powerhouse performances and clever drunken camera work.)

8. D is for Dog (Rogue Artists Ensemble) – Review

The collaborative artistry behind D is for Dog was astounding – from the story to the music, from the set to the puppetry. I was enthralled by every twist and turn in Rogue Artists Ensemble’s smart sci-fi thriller.

7. Hugh Jackman, Back on Broadway (Broadhurst Theater)

This unbelievably charismatic man lives up to the hype. Whether you’re seated on the first row of the orchestra or the back of the mezzanine (like me), Hugh invites you into his musical world with silly stories and flirty banter, cool and confident moves, a powerhouse voice, and genuine smile. He leaps effortlessly from macho Billy Bigelow to flashy Peter Allen, and I adore him for it.

6. Jerry Springer the Opera (Chance Theater) – Review

Kudos to the Chance Theater for conquering such a morally and musically challenging opera. Jerry Springer the Opera has yet to receive (and may never receive) a full production at a mainstream venue in the United States, but the Chance continually impresses with exciting productions of innovative work.

5. David Greenspan’s Poetics and Plays (Getty Villa)

David Greenspan’s performative lecture of Aristotle’s Poetics and Gertrude Stein’s Plays enacts the imbrication of performance in academics and academics in performance. I was dorkily enthralled. Charles McNulty may have preferred the classical Aristotle portion, but my theatergoing companion and I found Greenspan’s Stein to be uncanny.

4. The Last Act of Lilka Kadison (Lookingglass Theater) – Review

On my first trip to Chicago, I was inspired by the palpable art of listening across ensembles at Steppenwolf and Lookingglass. The Last Act of Lilka Kadison made theatrical magic of an utterly predictable story.

3. The Select (The Sun Also Rises) (Elevator Repair Service)

I have never been a fan of Hemingway’s macho prose – but with an ensemble of enthralling storytellers in a bar, corks popping and bottles flying, and a dash of music and dance, Hemingway was transmuted into a kind of camp. I was captivated. I’ll be back for Gatz this spring.

2. Septimus and Clarissa (Ripe Time) – Review

I was already a fan of Virginia Woolf’s soft, sensuous narrative voice that sweeps from one character to another, from interiority to exteriority. Ripe Time clarified and amplified Mrs. Dalloway for me, physicalizing Woolf’s words with such profound nuance and care.

1. Cyclops: A Rock Opera (Psittacus Productions) – Reviews and More

This raucous rock opera adaptation of Euripides’ satyr play consumed me – from Son of Semele to Pasadena Playhouse to the NY Musical Theatre Festival. I ended up occupying a strange and shifting position as a fan, critic, scholar, and dramaturg on the company’s road to NYMF. But most of all, I loved being a friend and advocate for such a smart and sexy new work.

Happy holidays, all. Looking forward to a very theatrical 2012! I’m kicking off the new year by dramaturging a new rock opera The Demise, previewing at The Roxy on January 19. And look for me music directing Act III Theater Ensemble’s Xanadu at UCLA in early March!

The Myths We Need – Or – How to Begin: Review for Stage & Cinema

Bring It On The Musical: Review for Stage & Cinema

We regret to inform you that Stephen Sondheim was unable to travel to Orange County due to snow storms in the New York area which have impacted flights.

What is “Stephen Sondheim in Conversation” without Stephen Sondheim? Jen and I were disappointed, to be sure … but not devastated. We would be appeased with an impromptu concert. Last night’s brilliantly cobbled-together performance illuminated the the immense talents of Christine Ebersole and Brian Stokes Mitchell, as well as their music director Tedd Firth; the joys of “live” performance; and, perhaps most importantly, the way in which Stephen Sondheim’s work has indelibly impacted his fans’ lives. Although Sondheim was not present for the concert, his creative and collaborative spirit presided over the evening’s deeply satisfying entertainment.

Michael Kerker, director of musical theater for ASCAP, kicked off the concert with an explanation of the travel fiasco. Apparently Sondheim was in the plane at JFK, ready to depart, when all flights were canceled due to accumulating snow. In true theatrical fashion, Christine Ebersole and Brian Stokes Mitchell – already in Orange County – decided the show must go on. They met in their dressing room yesterday afternoon and pieced together a set list of favorite Sondheim songs. With Kerker providing detailed historical connective tissue and animated anecdotes between musical numbers, Ebersole and Mitchell conquered an impressive array of material: from hit 11 o’clock numbers to songs cut in pre-Broadway tryouts, from canonized classics to (in)famous musical flops.

We often praise performance for its “liveness,” but let’s be honest: that “liveness” is not always palpable. Theater aims for consistency through repetition; it is scripted and blocked, often functioning like a well-oiled machine. The relationships between actors will shift slightly from night to night, and the dynamic of the audience can shape a performance; these shifts are most palpable for the cast, creative team, and repeat theatergoers. But nothing makes us so aware of “liveness” as when the machine breaks, when “real life” intervenes and performers are made vulnerable. (Why do you think Spider Man continues to sell on Broadway … ?) Last night’s concert was all the more thrilling because its “liveness” was palpable. The set list had been sketched out beforehand, but the exact details were delightfully improvisatory. The highly knowledgeable Michael Kerker could throw in another Sondheim story on a whim; Brian Stokes Mitchell could delay a song’s start for a heartfelt tribute to his accompanist; Christine Ebersole could quip away. The performers’ playfulness and generosity enraptured the audience.

The concert included three outstanding duets starring Ebersole and Mitchell: ”You Must Meet My Wife” from A Little Night Music, “Barcelona” from Company, and an especially rollicking ”A Little Priest” from Sweeney Todd. The always-solid Brian Stokes Mitchell offered a determined performance of “Everybody Says Don’t” from Anyone Can Whistle and a heartwrenching “Loving You” from Passion, though his “In Praise of Women” from A Little Night Music lacked humor and ”Giants in the Sky” from Into the Woods could have used a more youthful sense of discovery.

As impressive a performer as Mitchell is, his dramatic baritone felt one-note in comparison to Christine Ebersole’s versatile soprano. Ebersole deftly flipped among accents in “The Boy From …” (a parody of ”The Girl from Ipanema”), while her take on “Can That Boy Foxtrot” milked every lyric for sexual innuendo – and sent the unsuspecting audience into fits of laughter. Although Ebersole is an effortless and exuberant comedienne, her standout performances last night were three of Sondheim’s most riveting compositions: “The Ladies Who Lunch” from Company, “Send in the Clowns” from A Little Night Music, and “I’m Still Here” from Follies. Ebersole owned each iconic song of female survival as if she were originating it.

Few performers have the range to perform the gritty and cynical Joanne, the contemplative Desiree, and the staunch Carlotta – particularly within the span of a single concert. Yet it is precisely this range that captivated me when I first saw Ebersole in Grey Gardens. Her Edie Bouvier vocally intertwined the weight of old age with a lingering youthful naivete; a mournful flatness of tone would warm into a soaring and rich vibrato, nostalgic for her glory days. Ebersole’s performances last night were similarly nuanced, with her invigoratingly direct rendition of “I’m Still Here” even winning a standing ovation from many audience members. If only Ebersole had performed ”Losing My Mind” from Follies or “Not a Day Goes By” from Merrily We Roll Along …

Music director Tedd Firth deserves special notice for not only his stunning piano performance of such challenging scores, but for his remarkable skills as a collaborative accompanist. When Ebersole rhythmically faltered throughout “Sorry-Grateful,” Firth seamlessly adapted the underscoring to fit her singing. (For the record: Ebersole may have been off beat in this song from Company, but she infused “Sorry-Grateful” with a poignant lyricism that many performances sorely lack.)

In a brief interlude, Michael Kerker engaged Ebersole and Mitchell in a little conversation beginning with the question: “What gift has Sondheim given to performers?” Ebersole’s response was poetic and precise: Sondheim has given both performers and audiences “the gift of gray.” His songs are multifaceted, embracing all the complications and contradictions of humanity. Mitchell agreed that Sondheim writes such rewarding and psychologically complex roles; he uniquely inhabits his characters while composing.

The truth is, Sondheim inhabits his characters – and his characters inhabit us. Although neither Christine Ebersole nor Brian Stokes Mitchell had performed most of these songs for an audience before, Mitchell expressed a sense that the songs were in their bones and in their blood – as they are in the audiences’. I heard more than a few fans singing along (under their breath) with the glorious performances on stage. By the end of the evening, the initial disappointment of Stephen Sondheim’s inability to appear “live” had given way to a passionate (re)engagement with his creative work. Although Sondheim (“the voice of God”) phoned in from NYC to apologize for missing the concert, there was no apology necessary. Last night was a once-in-a-lifetime gift.

The Lord of the Rings in Concert: The Fellowship of the Ring:

Review for Stage & Cinema