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"The
Girl With the High Rouge" Anchors in Long Branch
by
Donnie G.
FRED'S ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT August 3 - August 8 On Friday, July 28, Vincent Sessa's "The Girl With the High Rouge" opened at the Lumia Theatre (179 Broadway) in Long Branch. Presented by the New Jersey Repertory Company, this show will run until August 20th. Andy Hall outdid himself with the set design. Members of the audience were seated on opposite sides of the room. Acting as the stage, a boat separated both sides of the room. The walls were painted to be the seascape. This set increased the lever of anticipation for the show to begin. Liz
Zazzi was wonderful as Piper (the woman who couldn't remember
her past). Finding herself on Captain Lob's boat, Piper
quickly captured his fancy. Also on the were Gabriel and
Ryan (Lob's sons). The three men end up competing for Piper's
affection. Barney Fitzpatrick, who played Officer Sharkey
on "All My Children" for three years, gave us a very convincing
Lob. Ryan, who hid from life through literature, was portrayed
by Ken Wiesinger. Lenny Bart portrayed Gabriel, who became
jealous every time Piper directed her attention to one of
the other men.
All
of the actors captured the personalities of their characters.
This is a direct compliment to the director, Stewart Fisher.
Besides directing NJ Rep's first production ("Ends"), Mr.
Fisher directed the critically acclaimed "Adult Fiction".
Being
drawn into the fantasy world of these characters, one can
almost find themselves feeling what they felt. This is a
tribute to the actors. There are some interesting developments
within the story that won't be revealed, so as not to spoil
the fun. The New Jersey Repertory Company should be commended
for bringing these original works to the theatre. Therefore,
bring out your swimmies and reserve your seats by calling
the theatre.
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ATLANTICVILLE August 3 thru Aug 9, 2000 by
Milt Bernstein
High Rouge Washes Ashore at NJ Rep
The Girl With the High Rouge by Vincent Sessa,
the latest offering of Long Branch's New Jersey Rep Co. on
Broadway downtown, is a surreal drama set on a ship that never
goes anywhere.
With a cast - and crew - of three men, all family members,
a "captain" and his two sons, the play explores what happens
when a supple young woman, clad only in a revealing night-shirt,
mysteriously lands on the deck of the ship, as though she
has fallen from the air above.
As the two sons ponder her sleeping form, one can see the
conflicts arising, and the sexual tensions showing themselves
immediately. One son, the older, is sexually experienced,
and leaves little doubt as to his desires and his methods,
his "modus operandi." His brother, on the other hand, is a
bookish introvert, very shy, and forever to be found with
a paperback classic clutched in his hand. However, he is a
most handsome youth. One can easily see how he would also
appeal to the young woman, who has awakened by now (the "high
rouge" of the title refers to the reddish color in her cheeks,
the source of which is unknown).
And all of this before our captain even comes up from below!
He of course is a single man, a youthful-appearing widower,
who lost his adored wife, the mother of the two boys, in a
mysterious apparent suicide walk which almost seems the reverse
of the way in which the young girl has materialized.
Needless to say, he too, is drawn to the girl, and she
to him, and in the second act of the play, the tensions erupt
in a violent and chilling manner.
The set of the play, which dominates the action, is an
artfully constructed wooden deck of the ship, complete with
hatches and entryways that enable the actors to disappear
from view to further the action. The set is so huge that the
company was forced to abandon the normal proscenium stage
and perform like a circle, or a rectangle, in-the-round; and
limiting slightly the number of seats for the audience as
well.
The Girl With the High Rouge is ably directed
by Stewart Fisher; and the small cast of four includes Lenny
Bart and Ken Wiesinger as the two brothers, Barney Fitzpatrick
as their father, and Liz Zazzi as the innocently seductive
cause of it all. All four actors acquit themselves beautifully.
Performances of this fascinating, mysterious play will
continue through August 20.
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Set designer can take a bow . . . and a stern The Girl with the High Rouge 07/28/00 By Peter Filichia
When: Through Aug. 20. Thursdays through Saturdays at 8 p.m., Sundays at 2 p.m.
How much: $25. Call (732) 229-3166.
Andy Hall can claim to be one of the few set designers who is playing with a full deck.
When the Red Bank resident was enlisted to design "The Girl with the High Rouge" at New Jersey Repertory Company, he learned that the action would take place on board a boat. An important plot device in Vincent Sessa's play about two brothers has one sibling manning the bow, while the other constantly stands in the stern.
"How do you put a big boat on our small stage?," Hall recalls wondering. He had previously provided the troupe with a rustic cabin for "Ends," a suburban Texas home for "North Fork," and a porno bookstore for "Adult Fiction." But this time he felt he was in over his head.
Indeed, the Long Branch theater is the tiniest of the state's professional venues. It only seats 62 patrons in armless chairs, but its stage is even most modest: A scant 18 feet wide and 24 feet deep.
"We'd just have a short, squat boat," SuzAnne Barabas, the theater's artistic director, had speculated. "The brothers would be much too close to each other."
"I thought of putting the bow in the distance," says Hall, "but (director) Stewart (Fisher) wasn't comfortable with that. No matter which way we put the boat on that little stage, it just wouldn't work."
Finally Hall suggested that they just reconfigure the theater.
Instead of playgoers sitting in their seats, facing a proscenium arch, what if he built a boat in the middle of the theater? The free-standing chairs would be set on platforms surrounding it. In essence, he'd turn the place into a theater-in-the-round, with the boat as the centerpiece.
"This gives us an environment that's total, which is very exciting for such an abstract play," Fisher says.
Hall, who is also an instructor at Monmouth University, says he had "a thing" for boats when he was a pre-teen growing up on Long Island, but didn't know much about them. As luck would have it, John Wenz, New Jersey Rep's technical director, is a boating enthusiast and was taking a yachting trip to Maine.
"But, funny thing," says Hall. "I decided not to talk to him, afraid that I'd get too much information. Because this is such an allegorical play, I just didn't want to be that literal."
Hall also assured Barabas that, even with building additional platforms for seats, his conception would not cost more than any of his previous sets.
"Though," he adds with a sigh, "I thought this would wind up being a little more work, but as always, it's turned out to be a lot more work, getting all the plywood, sculpting and laminating it. Still, it's worth it because you do want to grow and expand."
Which is what happened to Sessa's play; after a well-received reading last year, Barabas decided to give it a full production.
"It's kind of a cross between Lewis Carroll's 'Alice in Wonderland' and Jean-Paul Sartre's 'No Exit,'" she says. "On the surface, it's about those brothers and their father who one morning awake to find this woman face-down on their deck, red-faced from falling. They don't know how she got there, and she doesn't, either. She doesn't even know who she is, and even the playwright doesn't give us a final answer."
When patrons enter the Shore-based theater, many will find their usual seats have been displaced by the 29-foot-long, 9-foot-wide boat. They'll also see some differences in the seats encircling the bow and stern.
"They won't be our usual chairs," says Hall. "Some will have arms, some won't, though we decided not to have folding chairs, because they're not comfortable enough. They'll all look good, though, because we're painting them all white. And we're going to get even more than 62 seats in there by doing it this way." |
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Down to the sea
Published in the Asbury Park Press 7/23/00 Born
in Brooklyn, raised on Long Island and now living in Manhattan,
Sessa was named after an uncle who served in the United States
Coast Guard and was killed overseas during World War II.
All
of the action in Sessa's latest play, "The Girl With the
High Rouge" -- beginning performances this week at the New
Jersey Repertory Theatre in Long Branch -- takes place on
board a sailboat docked at the end of a long pier.
It centers
on a young woman who can't remember her past and her late-night
encounter with a father and his two grown sons who live on
board the boat. It is stocked with classical literature from
which the sons have learned most of what they know about life.
"During
my teen-age years I was alone a lot and I read, and read,
and read," Sessa said. "One of my regrets now, since I do
so much writing, I don't get to read as much ... there
are so many great books I haven't gotten to.
"I'm
hoping in my future to have a life that combines writing and
reading ... and to be physical," said Sessa, who has a bachelor's
degree in English and works at his cousin's commercial
restaurant supply business.
Being
physical by walking everywhere he goes in Manhattan helps
him in his writing, a solitary endeavor he performs every
day.
"I hear
so many wonderful things on the street and write them down
..things I couldn't have thought of in a million years,"
he explained. "I know there is a play in my future saying
something about the political system from what I hear on the
streets.
None
of his 15 plays are alike, he said.
"It's
hard for me to describe my plays sometimes ... they cover
a broad spectrum of life," he said. 'I think of 'The
Girl With the High Rouge' as a kind of human drama with
a lot of comedy.
"It
has elements of things we've all encountered in life...
happiness, sadness, the idea of fleeing from something," he
explained. "And I guess the sea, for me, represents many things
Piper (the 'girl') talks about, such as it offers
freedom and fear, is deep and dark, we came from the sea and
we are mostly water."
Sessa
admits he tends to worry about things most people never think
about. He was appalled recently to read a story in the Science
section of The New York Times claiming within the next 50
years the North Pole may melt.
"That
kind of catastrophic change is frightening," he said, adding
he couldn't understand why such a story didn't run
on the front page.
He wants
to address such issues and finds the theater a good place
for them. He previously wanted to write the great American
novel but found, over time, that his descriptions were becoming
mostly dialogue and were better suited to the stage.
William
Shakespeare, Tennessee Williams and Eugene O'Neill are
among his main influences. Sessa, who has never taken a playwrighting
course, believes he's come into his own in the past five
or six years.
"I knew
I always had a gift for the lyric line, but putting it all
together with the right characterization -- that took time,"
he said. "I think it was Yeats who said he had the language
early on -- and his early poems are lovely -- but they don't
have the guts of his later ones."
So Sessa
has spent a number of years reworking all his plays.
"I felt
I had an obligation to go back," he said. "There was a lot
of love put into them -- what they lacked were technical expertise."
He expects
to finish that task by the end of the summer. From then on,
he said, it will be "clear sailing" for new plays, including
one he is just finishing about the reservation staff of an
ocean cruise ship company based on Homer's "The Odyssey."
Published
on July 23, 2000
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By
ROBERT F. CARROLL
As the play opens, the author's eight sanitarium inmates have been induced by the medical director, the strident Dr. Janice Goldman (Kathleen Goldpaugh), to eschew spoken language and express themselves through musical instruments. A ninth patient, the Composer (Chris Tomaino), scripts scores for the ensemble at breakneck speed. In act one the quirky therapy seems to be working, but things take an unexpected turn when chatty Sally Cubbage (Kendal Ridgeway), a research assistant, turns up to gather facts on the unusual treatment devised by Dr. Goldman. Sally falls for the Composer, gets him talking and spreads panic through the institution and the patients. In the second act, the faux musicians--they fake the music expertly thanks to the offstage experise of sound designer and composer Merek Royce Press--toss off their muteness and seem headed toward normalcy. Gabby Sally, on the other hand, veers into catatonia after her romance with the Composer goes off track. And Dr. Goldman comes completely unstuck at seeing her life's work jeopardized, eventually delivering an overwrought, show-stopping soliloquoy. The musicians, Cellist Jim Donovan, Concert Mistress Gigi Jhong, Violist Kurt Elftmann, Clarinetist Rozie Bacchi, Flutist Marian Akana, aggressive Trombonist Nicole Godino, Trumpeter Leslie Wheeler (who tosses in a five-minute tapdance) and Percussionist Billy Stone (he's a virtuoso with the triangle), lip-sync perfectly and create characters without a word being spoken. Playwright Dunn says he wrote "Octet" years ago when he was a musical composition student. Real-life composer Press wrote original music for the play, which the "Octet" inmates "play". SuzAnne Barabas, artistic director of the New Jersey Repertory Company in Long Branch, where "Octet" is premiering, directed. "Octet"
continues its world premiere Thursdays through Sundays through
June 18 at the NJ Repertory Company's Lumia Theatre on Broadway
in Long Branch.
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Musical play better composed than written Octet 06/06/00 By Peter Filichia
When: Through June 18. Thursdays through Saturdays at 8 p.m., Sundays at 2 p.m.
How much: $25. Call
(732) 229-3166.
While New Yorkers have been asking, "Is 'Contact' really a musical?," we here in New Jersey can pose the same question of "Octet," the newest offering from New Jersey Repertory Company in Long Branch.
For Mark Dunn's new play is about a mental health institution where Dr. Goldman encourages her patients to stop speaking and start playing musical instruments. Audiences, instead of hearing wall-to-wall dialogue, get 90 minutes of conversation and a good half-hour of music.
Very good music, in fact. Merek Royce Press, New Jersey Repertory's composer-in-residence, is a talent that deserves to be heard. He's written 11 separate pieces, ranging from a traditionally named Adagio for Cello in D minor to the less conventionally titled Prelude Confused in F minor, Anti-Rhapsody for Solo Flute, and Concerto for Octet and Screaming Woman. All are hauntingly beautiful, though each contains a requisite number of whimsical sounds that reflect the oddities of the patients playing them.
We hear these works over the theater's sound system, while they are either mimed or softly played by The Violinist, The Violist, The Clarinetist, The Flutist, The Trombonist, The Trumpeter and The Percussionist. (Dr. Goldman insists that the players discard their names in favor of their roles.)
Dr. Goldman's theories are put to the test when Sally Cubbage, a research assistant, comes to the facility to glean information for her boss, who's writing a book. Sally soon becomes intrigued with The Composer, who breaks years of silence to speak to her. What happens to them isn't particularly surprising. That's true, too, of Dunn's eventual message -- a too simplistic one -- that psychiatrists are crazier than most.
Dunn also makes some amateurish errors. Dr. Goldman tells Sally what she discovered about her when she put the woman under hypnosis, but this is a scene we should witness. Later, The Composer tells of a rebellion that we also should have seen. "Show, don't tell" is one of the first lessons taught in Playwriting 101, but Dunn must have been absent for that class.
Director SuzAnne Barabas has found eight charmingly loony performers for her octet. She has Nicole Godino blithely use her trombone as a weapon when things don't go her way, and Marian Akana blast through her flute when she wants someone to leave. The brooding and bald Bill Stone plays his triangle with great seriousness, adding to the fun.
That leaves the three nonmusical roles, and they're well performed, too. As Sally, Kendall Ridgeway goes from a just-doing-my-job mentality to a woman who has a purpose in rescuing a man she thinks she loves. That will get her character into trouble, but it doesn't get Ridgeway into any. She maneuvers splendidly.
Chris Tomaino, who plays The Composer, carefully builds his character from ostensibly disturbed to warm. Kathleen Goldpaugh doesn't overdo the officiousness that has been written into Dr. Goldman.
"Octet" is not a significant work, but once again, New Jersey Repertory has given a play it loves a handsome production. How many theaters with only 62 seats would choose a work with 11 characters? The expense would give other producers apoplexy, but when SuzAnne and Gabor Barabas want to do something, they find a way. |
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'Octet' is a bold move for the NJ Rep
Published in the Asbury Park Press 05/31/00By GRETCHEN C. VAN BENTHUYSENTHEATER WRITER Who lives in the real world and who lives a life of self-deception is at the heart of Mark Dunn's new play "Octet," now receiving its world premiere at the New Jersey Repertory Company in Long Branch through June 18.
But as Dunn's drama progresses during its 2 1/2 hours, we come to realize the members of the octet are the ones who have faced reality and found a way to cope with it by voluntarily coming to the sanitarium and losing themselves in Composer's music. It is Sally and Janice who are sick, have refused to admit it to themselves and thus are destined to have mental breakdowns. Nicely directed by NJ Rep Artistic Director SuzAnne Barabas on Bryan Higgason's functional, all-white set, well lighted by Jeff Greenberg, the play moves along rather smoothly.
A major part of "Octet" is Merek Royce Press' music. His music has underscored nearly every production mounted at this 2-year-old theater. But this time it takes center stage and it is simply marvelous. It is the ninth character of the octet. While NJ Rep specializes in new plays, "Octet" is a bold move for the adventurous company. It is the first time music has taken center stage. It works well, although it is taped and not actually played by the actors. The play jumps between naturalistic and surrealistic moments, and that works as well. As always, productions values here are superb, even remarkable given the physical challenges the company has not only mounting new plays but mounting them in a building still being converted from a medical supply store to a two-stage performing arts space. Dunn's plays -- last year the troupe presented his "North Fork" -- tackle family and societal issues and his work is a nice fit for NJ Rep. Published on May 31, 2000 |
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Part concert, part play
'Octet' weaves drama through classical chamber music score 05/19/00 By Peter Filichia
Most New Jersey theatrical productions rehearse for three or four weeks. But "Octet," which begins performances on Thursday at New Jersey Repertory Company in Long Branch, began work in January.
The reason was not that the cast had so many lines to learn. In fact, eight of the 11 characters have no lines at all. Yet that octet began rehearsing in the dead of winter.
"Well, we had to," says Kurt Elftmann. "We're playing musicians -- and had to learn our musical instruments."
The octet of the title is a musical group assembled by Dr. Goldman, who heads an institute where patients are encouraged to communicate through music rather than speech. "It's her nontraditional idea on therapy," says Kathleen Goldpaugh, who plays Goldman. "She wants it that way . . . because she doesn't like to tackle anyone verbally. She knows people can use words as swords."
Playwright Mark Dunn, 43, says he wanted to write a work in which music had a powerful role. "It's a hybrid of a concert and a play, a story threaded through a classical music chamber work," he says.
While the theatrical rule of thumb says that each page of script represents a minute of stage time, "Octet" has only 63 pages, yet plays two hours. The rest is music.
The playwright didn't compose the score, even though he majored in music at the University of Memphis. New Jersey Repertory's house composer, Merek Royce Press, wrote the music, including a nine-minute piece, "Tea for Eight."
Then the cast had to learn it.
Says Elftmann, who plays The Violinist, "Getting through that piece has heightened my appreciation of musicians who must get through an entire symphony."
"We chose actors who'd be willing to take on an instrument and play it," says composer Press. "We met once every two weeks from January through April, then stepped it up to every week. I made CDs of my music, so they could listen and replicate the notes on their instruments. Rote and repetition is how they learned."
The CD will be playing along with the octet in performance. "But you'll definitely hear what they're doing, too," Press says of the cast.
Rozie Bacchi, who plays The Clarinetist, did play the instrument during her grammar school years, but hadn't picked it up in more than a decade. "Now when I play, some squeaking comes in," she concedes.
Others weren't as lucky. Leslie Wheeler played the viola as a kid, but was cast as The Trumpeter. "Admittedly, I hadn't played viola in 30 years," she says, "and while going back to an instrument isn't like riding a bicycle, I still feel I would have had a leg up if they had me on viola. But they saw me as The Trumpeter, and now, I really feel I can play it."
Chris Tomaino once played the trombone and clarinet -- "but both those roles have to be played by women," he said, ruefully. He was cast as The Composer. Similarly, Mare Akana already knew how to play the cello, but that's a man's part, so she became The Flautist.
"I had hoped to be The Flautist, because a flute is so much lighter," says Nicole Godino. "Now I'm glad I'm on trombone, because working it has changed my body language. I find myself taking a wider stance. I'm 5' 6" and of average weight -- but this has made me feel bigger."
Billy Stone, who plays The Percussionist, thought his job would be easy. "I mean," he says, "how hard could it be to play a triangle? Then I started to learn. You have to strike a triangle in different ways at different times -- and at different lengths, too. When you go inside the triangle, it's going to make a different sound from when you hit it from outside. It's the same note, always the same note, but it somehow comes across sounding different." |
'Octet' sings love's praises
Published in the Asbury Park Press 5/25/00By GRETCHEN C. VAN BENTHUYSENTHEATER WRITER For the first time, the New Jersey Repertory Company is letting music take center stage.
Dunn, 43, who's written 23 plays, said he's comfortable
telling women's stories. His comedy "North Fork," staged here last spring,
centered on the relationship among four sisters with unresolved childhood
issues.
"Sometimes the story involves women as main characters,
and the issues are feminist," he explained from his home in New York's
Greenwich Village. "In this particular case, there is a love story .
. but it isn't as important to the story that Sally Cubbage is a woman
as it was important there were four sisters in 'North Fork.' "
N.J. Rep Artistic Director SuzAnne Barabas, who helms
the production, said she selected it because she was intrigued by how
the story, together with the music, "gels and moves along without actually
being a musical." But, she adds, she and her brother, Merek Royce Press,
who wrote the music, are rehearsing the 11-member cast as if they were
in a musical.
"We worked separately with the musicians and with the
speaking roles," she explained. "Then we put them together, working
on individual scenes, making sure it was coherent, making sure the transitions
ran smoothly."
This idea of the beauty of music versus the beauty of
language evolved into his play. He also explores the theme of head vs.
heart.
"Sally represents someone who comprehends the world through
intellect," he said. "Janice, the doctor, created an environment of
people who see the world in an emotional, nonverbal way."
Dunn himself has begun to explore the world differently
as well. He recently resigned from his job in the rare books and manuscript
division of the New York Public Library and now devotes himself totally
to writing. Royalties from pervious plays and his wife, an interior
designer, help pay the bills.
On the emotional side, he can write plays and devote himself
to the beauty of the language. On the intellectual side, he has signed
a contract with a publisher to write for a geographical encyclopedia
scheduled for publication in 2002.
"Play writing is what interests me and excites me," he
sighed. "The encyclopedia . . . it's practical."
Published on May 25, 2000
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Music, Madness, Medical Ethics Explored in Octet, Preem in
NJ May 25
|
Theater company rarely slows down, even to do the
same thing
|
 MICHAEL J. TREOLA
photo
During rehearsals for the New Jersey Repertory Company's upcoming play, "Octet," are (from left) Jim Donovan, Holmdel, and Gigi Jhong, Kurk Elftmann and Rozie Bacchi, New York. |
Workmen are unloading plasterboard and lumber from a delivery truck and setting it up inside. It is noon, but they won't be returning until evening to begin work to continue transforming what once was a medical supply building into various theater spaces devoted to new and original work staged by professional actors.
Meanwhile, deeper inside the building in what is called the Lumia Theatre, Artistic Director SuzAnne Barabas, 50, of West Long Branch, is helming a rehearsal for the upcoming world premiere of Mark Dunn's "Octet," a play set in a sanitarium where patients communicate through their musical instruments, not words.
Barabas has been at the theater since 8 a.m. Rehearsal began at 10 and will continue until 4:30 or 5. The workmen will arrive soon after and work until midnight, she says.
The cast is running through the "Resume" scene.
Kendal Ridgeway, 34, of New York City, is approaching the patient-musicians and reading their resumes as they "play" their instruments to tape music: Gigi Jhong, 26, of New York City, concert mistress. Kurt Elftmann, 33, of New York City, violist. Jim Donovan, 41, of Holmdel, cellist. Marian Akana, of Tinton Falls, flutist. Rozie Bacchi, 25, of New York City, clarinetist.
Composer Merek Royce Press, 34, of New York City, starts and stops the tape and watches closely how the actors finger their instruments.
They run the scene over, and over and over as Press and Barabas work on the fine details.
Then they move on to the next scene in which Ridgeway's character and Kathleen Goldpaugh's character Dr. Janice Goldman, the head of the sanitarium, confront a non-speaking patient who is the composer.
"That line . . . it just doesn't feel right," says Goldpaugh, of New York City, in the middle of the scene the first time they try it.
Barabas moves down from the seating platform, sits down on the stage and works with the actress to make it "right."
Then they run the scene over, and over and over again.
from the Asbury Park Press
Published: May 18, 2000
| APPRECIATION: End of a love story
Published in the Asbury Park Press 4/23/00THEATER WRITER For years, actress Kim Hunter and her actor-writer husband Robert Emmett had wanted to appear together in the play "On Golden Pond," a love story about a couple returning to their summer home for the 44th year.
Hunter's career spans nearly 60 years. She made her Broadway debut in 1949 opposite Marlon Brando in "A Streetcar Named Desire" and is also well-known for her appearences in the "Planet of the Apes" movies. Emmett, who had pursued an acting career both on and off-Broadway, was better known as a writer who penned the satiric 1960s' TV show "That Was the Week That Was," as well as segments for dramatic shows and specials for stars such as Barbra Streisand, Julie Andrews and Harry Belafonte. When news of his death reached members of the NJ Rep, they were deeply saddened. "He was such a dear man, always cheerful, a joy to be around, incredibly funny and very professional," said SuzAnne Barabas, West Long Branch, artistic director of the company. "After we worked together he would call us up periodically to check up on us, especially after he'd seen on TV flooding from a storm along the shore." Barabas said one thing that struck her was how active the couple were. After "On Golden Pond," she said, Hunter and Emmett flew to Spain for a film festival. "They were constantly traveling and doing things," she noted. "They lived in an apartment on the third floor for 40 something years. "They would fly up and down those stairs and I would get out of breath," Barabas said. Hunter and Emmett has also done several staged readings for the troupe, which specializes in new work. Both were scheduled to return over the winter, but illness forced Emmett to cancel, she said. Alex Brumel, a freshman at Marlboro High School, played Billy opposite Emmett's Norman in "On Golden Pond." Billy is a kid with an attitude that softens and changes as he spends time with Norman. And Norman finds in Billy the kind of loving relationship he never found with his own daughter. Brumel said he was apprehensive about a scene in which his character yells at Norman. "The director said to throw everything I could into it," Brumel said. "And Bob looked me right in the eye and said 'Lay it on me, kid.' "He was always looking for everything to be real," Brumel continued. "It was almost like he didn't believe in acting, more like get up and become the character." But things got a little too real one night during the run of the play, Brumel said, which deeply saddened him. In the play Norman takes a walk, becomes disoriented and returns to the house in a panic afraid he is losing control. "Bob was having a lot of problems with with his memory late in his life and there was one performance when he completely blanked out," Brumel said. "He tried to improvise but the audience knew something was wrong. "Later, backstage, I saw him sobbing and I remember feeling so horrible ... it was awful," Brumel said. But mostly what Brumel and Barabas remember was Emmett regaling them with stories. For Brumel, it was hearing about all the stars for which Emmett had written. For Barabas, it was the time she and husband Gabor spent socializing with the acting couple. Hunter, she said, is a gourmet who wrote a cookbook and she and Emmett loved to eat. They were particularly fond of Joe & Maggie's Bistro on Broadway and the Fromagerie in Rumson. "Kim and Bob stayed at the Ocean Place (Resort) for awhile and after a show we would go sit in the bar, have a few drinks and share stories. "He was so funny," Barabas said. "I am just so happy they were able to share 'On Golden Pond' together."
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Adult
Fiction? Yeah! by Nick Montesano triCity Staff Writer
LONG
BRANCH - Sometimes the most apt of pupils and the most philosophical
of teachers miss emphasizing the single most important aspect
of a lesson. The Result leaves both with more to learn.
The
New Jersey Repertory Company in Long Branch is currently presenting
the New Jersey premiere of Brian Mori's "Adult Fiction". Don't
miss it.
Mori's
tender tale is set in the most unlikely, yet somehow appropriate
of places, an adult bookstore in Times Square in 1979. What
unravels is the relationship between Earl, the proprietor
of the shop and Mikie, the son of one of Earl's former love
interests.
In the
course of one evening, the two men discuss life, women, predestination,
money, coffee, and life. And when Earl sets Mikie up on a
date, Earl instructs his young protégé how to bring candy,
take her to a movie, compliment her, and not expect sex right
away. We are sure that Mikie knows exactly what to do.
The
results however are nothing short of hysterical and disastrous
with bitingly difficult realizations for both men.
This
is an outstanding evening of theater.
The
play itself is a masterwork of character study. Mori
has written a story with a poetic vernacular that rings so
true it almost sounds improvised. Only Earl could get away
with statements like, "Her beauty is in bad shape, I don't
mind tellin you." and "I always try to improve my language
when I am around opposite sexes." There is nothing "unright"
about this writing.
The
language of Mori's play serves to create characters that are
tender and rich, and he weaves a tale that is filled with
subtlety, sadness and an underlying hope.
The
acting is superb. Jerry Marino as Earl and Aaron Vieira as
Mikie are a team of performers so intertwined in their craft
that each complements the other, strengthens the other and
carries the other to funny, unsettling and wonderfully touching
moments while creating a friendship that is not soon forgotten.
Marino
is remarkably adept at showing Earl's gift of gab. Vieira
is the wide-eyed sponge hanging on Earl's every word. The
mere fact that these two men have found so many readings for
the word "yeah" in itself is astounding. They are truly amazing
to watch.
The
Moment these gentlemen create when Mikie reads a note from
his date written on a Snickers wrapper is rife with varied
emotional levels from both actors.
Billy
Stone and Dominic A. Gregoria provide a correctly sleazy presence
as the other customers.
At the
helm of this production, director Stewart Fisher has led this
cast beautifully, never missing a beat in pacing. Fisher has
embraced and clearly presented the nuances of these characters,
making them funny and pathetic while preserving their dignity.
Andy
Hall has created a set that winningly leaves no detail untended
to. Electrical junction boxes run along the walls above viewing
booths with functioning red occupancy lights. The shop has
a black and used to be white tile floor, racks of videos,
magazines (even copies of "Oui" and "Amateur Babes"), dildoes,
paperbacks and pinups. Outside the mottled and scratched windows
of the shop there is a perfectly pre-Disney Times Square assemblage.
It pays to arrive early just to take it all in.
Hall's
scenic creation is pivotal to the story. The fact that such
a tender tale is told in such a sleazy environment serves
to heighten the beauty of the production.
Listen,
too, how craftily Merek Royce Press has created an introductory
sound design that brings you from period music to a grating,
scratching audio depiction of New York City. It partners perfectly
with Hall's set.
So,
go!
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The Two River Times
March 31, 2000
New Jersey Rep's 'Adult Fiction' in
Long Branch
New play proves fledgling company's mission
possible
by Philip Dorian
After the opening night performance of "Adult
Fiction" at New Jersey Repertory Company, Executive Producer
Gabor Barabas made a brief pitch on behalf of season subscription
plans. Noting that the company, starting its second season,
specializes in new or neglected plays, he made the point that
subscribers will not have the comfort of seeing familiar titles
on NJ Rep's schedule. The idea is to make a leap of trust.
If the next four productions spanning May-December
2000, live up to the promise of the current offering, that trust
will be amply rewarded. For while you probably have never heard
of "Adult Fiction", now running at the 65-seat Lumia Theatre
on Long Branch's lower Broadway, be advised that it is a startlingly
good play. Playwright Brian Mori has a sure ear for common dialogue,
and, ably guided by director Stewart Fisher, Jerry Marino and
Aaron Vieira act the heck out of it.
Set in 1979, the store's proprietor (Marino)
passes on his earthy philosophy to Mikie (Vieira), whose mental
acuity is just on the plus side of "slow". Earl, 55 years old,
is resigned to his present and future as the manager of a sleazy
adult bookstore, but in his own way he functions above that
lowly station. He's a 'dese, dem and dose' guy, but in pithy
comments and brief anecdotes, he reveals a temperament, if not
hopeful, at least patient, and tolerant.
Mikie, already forlorn at 19, accepts Earl's
efforts to arrange a blind date with a coffee shop waitress.
The scenes leading up to the fix-up phone call, and the call
itself, are as comical as can be, but they don not lapse into
stand-up. The laughs don't come from quips; rather they come
from recognition of the awkwardness we've all experienced in
similar situations. Earl's advice regarding first-date behavior
might be blunt and sexist, but it's downright funny - and not
far removed from pseudo-scientific self-help manuals on the
same topic. Judging from "Adult Fiction," Mr. Mori is a writing
talent to watch.
Marino and Vieira are excellent. Their incisive
acting, with as much attention to listening as to speaking,
gets the most from the spare dialogue. Marino's Earl is paternal
without condescension, and Vieira's Mikie, though dull-witted,
is sweetly sensitive. Best of all, both actors make it look
effortless. Director Fisher makes sure the two don't overplay
the lingo, and the result is natural and realistic. So is the
bond of affection between the crude middle-aged sage and the
emotionally need young man. And casting Billy Stone as customer
Spike was a coup. Stone's physical appearance and his consummate
performance in a minor role serve the play well.
We're used to Andy Hall's fine set designs on
the small Lumia Theatre stage, and this one, the inside of a
tacky adult bookstore, is exceptional. Deede Ulanet's props,
displayed semi-discreetly, add to the illusion, and Jim Hultquist's
lighting design, with muted red neon blinking outside the front
of the shop, keeps us aware of Times Square.
"Adult Fiction" is not an optimistic play; its
theme is failed relationships. One such, barely hinted at, is
the key to the bond between Earl and Mikie. The hinted-at relationship
might be the most significant one in the play.
The play runs about 90 minutes, including an
unnecessary, even disruptive intermission. Good as it is, "Adult
Fiction" would be better in one act with two scenes: pre-Mikie's
date, and post-Mikie's date. And maybe Mr. Fisher and Mr. Marino
could work on keeping Earl unaware of his profundity right up
to the very end. Poignant as it is, the denouement should not
represent an epiphany.
There's some coarse language in "Adult Fiction",
but no more than is found in many mainstream movies. The language
is, in fact, a source of the synergy among the play's writer,
director and actors. There is no doubt that this is the way
Earl and Mikie talk, and rather than offend, the expletives
serve to punch up the humor and emphasize the emotions. These
are, after all, not articulate characters, and their blankety-blanks
are legitimate adjectives and adverbs. The indelicate language
doesn't descend into the gratuitous. Be not offended; be drawn
into the expressive writing, directing and acting of "Adult
Fiction"
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Lusts of the flesh Exploring matters of the heart in a porno bookstore 03/28/00 By Peter Filichia
When: Through April 16. Thursdays through Saturdays at 8 p.m., Sundays at 2 p.m.
How much: $25. Call (732) 229-3166.
When theatergoers enter "Adult Fiction" at New Jersey Repertory Company, they walk into a gritty re-creation of a pornographic bookstore. Magazines abound, with such titles as "Jail Babies"; lines of videotapes display covers of naked couples. A mop and bucket are placed near the screening booths.
As the lights come up, it's somewhat surprising to hear Earl, the store's manager, ask Mikey, his 19-year-old customer, "So how's your mom?"
Playwright Brian Mori lets us know -- simplistically -- that purveyors of porno and their customers are basically good-hearted people with the same wants and needs as the rest of us. They may use "adult" language (there's plenty in this 90-minute play), but if we prick them, do they not bleed?
The 55-year-old Earl views Mikey as the son he never had. But Earl has all the wisdom of Archie Bunker, who, sad to say, must have been Mori's model. The playwright includes malapropisms worthy of Archie -- "hospital" for "hospitable" -- and if that weren't enough, has him utter "whoop-de-doo," too.
Earl secretly lusts for Ann, a waitress in a nearby coffee shop, but knows he's too old for her. He calls her to see if she'll date Mikey. That the young woman would take a recommendation from a porno distributor may seem odd, but her reasons later become clear.
Theatergoers will assume the match won't work out because Mikey -- a gullible nerd in a Led Zeppelin T-shirt -- is hardly a catch. Aaron Vieira expertly shows us a kid who works hard to keep up with the conversation, hoping that the comment he's just thrown in registers. His face and squint constantly spell confusion. He often casts his eyes down to the floor, and, when he looks up, hopes that he'll see a kind and understanding face.
Jerry Marino certainly gives Earl that face, though he isn't above playing the lord of the manor to the other customers. ("This ain't no library!") He unfolds many layers of paternal feeling, and forgives Mikey no matter how much the young man disappoints him. Marino lets us sympathize with the man and his wasted existence, especially deep in the play, when Earl is forced to examine his life.
Stewart Fisher's direction shifts smoothly from the first-act laughs to the second-act poignancy. "Adult Fiction" is a competent work that doesn't aim too high, but hits the mark it set for itself. |
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'Adult
Fiction' plot needs fleshing out
Published in the Asbury Park Press 3/28/00By GRETCHEN C. VAN BENTHUYSENTHEATER WRITER The New Jersey Repertory Company in Long Branch has opened its second season of main-stage plays with a work about two misfits that takes place in 1979 at a pornographic book store in Times Square.
His two-character drama, with comedy, centers on the relationship
between Earl (Jerry Marino), a middle-age man who manages the
porno book store, and Mikie (Aaron Vieira), a 19-year-old lost
soul with little common sense and even less brains.
The first act of this 85-minute play (with an unnecessary
15-minute intermission) centers on getting Mikie a date. The
second focuses on how the date doesn't work out. Within
this framework, we learn Mikie barely graduated high school,
has been laid off and lives with his single mother as he drifts
through life. Earl lives in a roach-infested apartment; he hates
working in a store, he hates eating his meals in a coffee shop
that he loves.
This slice-of-life play resembles a slice of apple pie that
has been sitting under glass on the counter of a coffee shop
all day. It's OK, but warm it up and add a scoop of vanilla
ice cream and it would be much better.
Mori offers the audience very little conflict and characters
we can pity, but not empathize with. Both characters are frustrated
with life -- aren't we all? -- but where are the revealing
monologues or seminal moments that help us better understand
why Earl and Mikie are the way they are?
Mori asks us to accept his two characters at face value and,
perhaps because the production values are so rich, the audience
expects richer, deeper characters.
Why has Earl loved and lost, and, although fatalistic about
life, is not bitter about the hand he has drawn? Is Mikie really
that naive, or is he perhaps mentally disabled, growing up in
a city where the school system has failed him? Why does he look
to Earl as a father figure, and is it the lack of a real father
that hindered his maturity?
Mori needs to give us more to better understand Earl and Mikie's
relationship with each other and society at a time that, the
producers point out, was one of uncertainty and disillusionment.
Could all of their disillusionment stem from their simple
exchange near the end of the play when Mikie, who has screwed
up yet one more time, says, "I wanna love somebody, y'know,
Earl? I just wanna love somebody."
And Earl's answer is, "I know."
They are looking for love. The porno shop customers are looking
for sex.
The audience needs to know more about Earl and Mike's
quest for love, for that is a sentiment we all can empathize
with, and one that could truly touch our hearts.
Published on March 28, 2000
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Porn in the U.S.A.
Published in the Asbury Park Press 3/24/00Theater Writer Brian Mori never dreamed the New Jersey Repertory Company would produce his play "Adult Fiction" because it takes place in a pornographic book store in Times Square.
Mori said his play was staged at the Geva Theatre in Rochester, N.Y., about 10 years ago. The rest of the Rep's five-play season are world premieres. "Part of our mission is to do new plays and neglected plays and this is a new, neglected work," explained the Rep's Artistic Director SuzAnne Barabas, West Long Branch. "I think people who are offended by (profane) language shouldn't come and see this, just like they may choose not to see an R-rated movie." Barabas said the play may be a "turn-off" to some people, but to her it's a "quite funny and very moving play" about human relationships. The two-act, two-character play takes place during the summer of 1979 -- in pre-Mayor Rudy Giuliani Times Square. It centers on Earl (played by Jerry Marino of Edison), a man in his 50s who manages a porn shop, and 19-year-old Mikie (played by Aaron Vieira of Manhattan), a shy loner. It is directed by Stewart Fisher of Brooklyn, who also directed "Ends" for the Rep. Mori, 42, of Manhattan, divides his time between writing stage plays and screenplays while working part-time for the Ford Foundation. He said he began writing as a high school student to express himself since he was so shy.
"Earl is so much like my Dad, who died shortly before the Geva production," Mori said. "He was not the brightest guy in world, but he was a kind and decent man living on the margins and frustrated by how his life had turned out. "And there was a time in my life when I was shy and lonely," Mori said. "Dreaming of love and not sure how to go about getting it." After his mother and father split, Mori's father, like Earl, became a coffee-shop junkie while living on the edge of society. "He used to take me to coffee shops when I was a kid," said Mori, who was born in Pennsylvania and grew up in southern California. "He became a regular and they were special to him, a way to keep in touch." The play revolves around a blind date Earl sets up between Mikie and a waitress from his favorite coffee shop. However, circumstances prohibit Earl from returning to his favorite shop. Now married and living in Manhattan, Mori struggles to earn a living with his writing. His play "Dream of Flight," published by the Dramatist Play Service, "pays me unbelievably less than $5 bucks every six months." He rewrote and polished parts of "Adult Fiction," which is the first play he's worked on in about four years, he said. He said it has been optioned several times for off-Broadway productions, but the financing never comes together, he believes, because of the play's milieu scares off backers. "It's impossible to make a living just writing plays," said Mori, whose first New York production was in 1978. "This is my 20th production and I've made less than $20,000 in all these years. "I've had a bunch of options on my screenplays, which pays me enough money for six months," he explained. "But if this one screenplay I have kicks in, it will give me enough money to write for two-three years ... I dream of making a living at writing."
Published on March 24, 2000 |
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Two River Times January
15-22
Scene On Stage by Philip Dorian
The Plays Within The Plays Are The Thing At Two Theaters
INTENTIONALLY AWFUL PLAYS-within-plays are centerpieces
in two comedies that opened last weekend on New Jersey Regional
stages. "Noises Off", the 1983 farce by British playwright Michael
Frayn, is at Paper Mill Playhouse in Millburn, and "The Play's
the Thing," written sixty years earlier by Hungarian dramatist
Ferenc Molnar, plays through January 23 at New Jersey Repertory
Company in Long Branch. It may be stretching a point to claim
further similarities, but both are comedies about theater people
at work, and both New Jersey productions feature established
actors of note in leading roles. Experienced farceur Brian Murray
plays the director in "Noises Off", and Stuart Vaughan, a founder
of the New York Shakespeare Festival, plays a playwright in
"The Play's the Thing", and, in fact, directed the production.
Good things come in small packages.
NJ Rep, in its 65 seat Lumia Theatre, comes closer to realizing
the essence of its play than does Paper Mill, twenty times larger.
The relative sizes of the venue serve to enhance the
one and weaken the other. "The Play's the Thing" becomes a charming
chamber frivolity in Rep's intimate space, while "Noises Off"
is blown up and amplified (literally) to something other than
the compressed frenzy it should be.
.......
If it's not a contradiction in terms, "The Play's
the Thing" is a mannerly farce. Clever word-play and mental
gymnastics take the place of physical action and slamming doors.
One theory of farce says that it harbors subversive qualities
and addresses unspoken urges; in Molnar's "putting on" of a
play writing, actors, critics, class distinction, elitism and
intellectualism, "The Play's the Thing" fits that description.
The adaptation by P.G. Wodehouse is remarkably close to the
original, and directed by Stuart Vaughan, the highly professional
production at NJ Rep is leisurely paced. As the plot thickens,
audience interest becomes amusement, and early chuckles grow
to robust laughter.
A young composer overhears his actress-fiancée
in a passionate exchange with another actor. To avert personal
and professional ruin, a playwright dashes off a short play
in order to convince the composer that all he heard was a rehearsal.
That's "The Play's the Thing" in a nutshell, but the essence
of the play is in the simplicity and lightness with which Molnar
has drawn the situation. Within the formality and elegance of
a luxurious Italian Inn, worldliness and wit prevail. There's
a propriety about the behavior of the older playwright and his
collaborators, but the earthiness of their instincts is not
far beneath the veneer. "No poetry in my soul, but a balance
in my bank account," says the playwright. But there is poetry
- and poetic license, as he writes the playlet and passes it
off as one by Sardou, whose melodramas had dominated the Parisian
stage in the late 1800's.
While it is generally unwise for an actor to
direct himself, this play might be an exception. (So might be,
for that matter, Stuart Vaughan.) The role of Sandor Turai,
the play wright based on Molnar himself, is at the hub of "The
Play's the Thing". Everything that happens, the other characters'
actions and reactions are at Sandor's instigation. It is perfectly
natural for him to control the tone of all else on stage. Mr.
Vaughan does it with aplomb. Looking dapper in formal attire
to leisure wear, his Sandor runs the show - literally, as well
as within the play.
AS Sandor's associate, William Shust is equally
at home with wordplay; Philip F. Lynch, as the composer, carries
callowness to an extreme. Angela Roberts is very good at capturing
shadings of worldliness under the fiancée's sunny disposition.
As the would-be seducer, Joseph Culliton's bombast is out of
sync with the rest of the play, but the actor does make hay
with the comic playing of the faux scene - it's broad reading
probably too much so, but funny nonetheless.
New Jersey Repertory producers Gabor and SuzAnne
Barabas have promised to produce neglected or infrequently staged
works. To start the New Year, they're off and running in high
style with "The Play's the Thing."
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Atlanticville
January
13 thru January 19, 2000
CurtainCalls
Review by Diana Moore
The
play-within-the-play's the Thing at NJ Rep
Adultery is
usually dangerous, but in Ferenc Molnar's "The Play's the Thing,"
now playing at New Jersey Repertory Company's Lumia Theatre in Long
Branch, it's downright humorous.
Set in an
Italian castle in 1924, Molnar's comedy (adapted by P.G. Wodehouse)
is directed by and stars Stuart Vaughan, who reigns supreme in the
role of playwright Sandor Turai, with a style reminiscent of Anthony
Hopkins and a relaxed approach to acting that makes his delivery
thoroughly believable. Opening with some sly commentary by the main
characters on theatrical clichés and conventions, the farcical situation
kicks off when Sandor, his longtime collaborator Mansky (William
Shust) and their young composer friend Albert (Philip Lynch) happen
to overhear the titillating sounds of erotic overtures coming from
the bedroom of Albert's "Prima Donna" (Angela Roberts) bride-to-be
and her former suitor and co-star Almady (Joseph Culliton). This
send the composer spiraling into a turbulent sea of despair, anger
and self-loathing; his fiancée sinks into her own frantic ocean
of woe when she discovers that her late-night rendezvous was overheard
by the man she truly adores.
So, can this
couple ever be stitched back together? Possibly - by way of a masterwork
of deceit conjured by the veteran dramatist, who seeks to turn this
tragedy into a "life imitates art" spectacular. The ingenious plot
involved disguising the salacious encounter as a play rehearsal,
in hopes that he'll believe it, she'll be forgiven and all will
be well again - or will it?
In addition
to Vaughan, William Shust radiates excellent stage presence as the
other half of the sardonic and sneaky pair of playwrights - and
if you aren't weak of heart, you will laugh till you have an aneurysm
when you watch Joseph Culliton drive everybody mad as the hilariously
hammy Almady.
This being
my first NJ Repertory experience, I was very impressed at not only
the talent of the cast of characters, but the way the set designer
Bart Healy and costume designer Juliet Ouyoung took an intimate
setting and turned it into a whole different and exciting world.
One word of advice to the readers: "Beware of thin walls." (You
would be surprised at what one can hear through soft paneling -
I know I am).
The
COASTER January 13-January 19
Review by
Robert F. Carroll
The
play-within-the-play's the Thing at NJ Rep
Ferenc Molnar's
turn-of-the-century --- that's the other century -- comedy,
"The Play's the Thing" is a funny, gentle, well-crafted play short
only on social relevance of "significance" that modern playwrights
seem to believe is demanded by modern audiences.
The Hungarian
Molnar's comedy (as adapted by P.G. Wodehouse, the English humorist),
is the current offering of the New Jersey Repertory Company at
its cozy Lumia Theatre on Broadway in Long Branch.
Stuart Vaughan,
the founding artistic director of the New York Shakespeare Festival,
directed and plays the lead in this classy production. Vaughan
is Sandor Turai, an elder playwright who has arranged a meeting
between his composer and protégé, Albert Adam (Philip Lynch),
on a new musical, and Ilona Szabo (Angela Roberts), who is to
play the lead in the show, to go over the details.
The meeting
is set in an Italian villa whose walls are paper thin, especially
the one between Turai's suite and Ilona's bedroom. So, of course,
Turai and Adam overhear Ilona and a former lover, Almady (Joseph
Culliton) conduct an incendiary assignation. This presents Turai
with a problem: How can he explain away the overheard conversation
to young, inflamed Adam, Ilona's fiancé?
It's a nice
plot, and Turai is up to solving it. The overheard conversation,
he explains, is dialogue from a new play the pair have been rehearsing.
How he goes about convincing everybody concerned takes the second
and third acts before everything is resolved to everyone's satisfaction,
including the audience.
Vaughan
is superb as the elder playwright - self-assured, in control and
accustomed to having his own way. He and Mansky (William Shust),
a fellow playwright and co-author of many years' standing, make
a marvelous pair, exchanging pleasantries and showbiz quips and
snips in the best Oscar Wilde tradition. John FitzGibbon, as the
waiter Dwornitschek, almost steals the show with his calculated
obsequiousness. Not far behind is Culliton as the fatuous Almady,
who strives to maintain his innocence via a hilarious third act
tete-a-tete with Ilona. Brenton Popolizio plays a superheated
major domo of the villa.
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ASBURY PARK PRESS January 11, 2000
'Play's the Thing' well worth
the time by Gretchen C. Van Benthuysen
"The Play's the Thing," which opened last weekend
at the New Jersey Repertory Company in Long Branch, begins its first
act with characters talking about the difficulty of beginning a play |
