The Reconciliation Dinner

Reviewed by Amanda L. Andrei
Power Mac Center Blackbox Theater at Circuit Makati in Makati, Metro Manila, Philippines.
Closed

Note: The production reopens at PETA Theater Center, Quezon City, Metro Manila, Philippines: August 5-20, 2023

RECOMMENDED

Note: This review is part of a reflection essay on Stage Raw contributor Amanda L. Andrei’s sojourn to the Philippines, in order to see the country of her ancestry, and the theater it now produces

Public relations strategist Dina Medina (Stella Cañete-Mendoza) and entrepreneur-baker Susan Valderama (Frances Makil-Ignacio), are intimately and joyfully wrapped up in each other’s lives—old college buddies, constant companions, godmothers to each other’s children. But after several months under the Duterte administration, when the subject of former president Ferdinand Marcos’ burial and the symbolism of a dictator honored as a hero is brought up at a Medina dinner party, the two friends burst into an ugly argument which Dina silences by requesting that they no longer speak about politics.

Cañete-Mendoza and Makil-Ignacio are both giddy and formidable as matriarchs and friends—it is heartbreaking to see the intimate connection between giggly friends turn cold, avoidant, and patronizing. Supportive and loving to their respective families, husbands Bert Medina (Randy Medel Villarama) and Fred Valderama (Jojo Cayabyab) each strongly espouse their political and moral viewpoints—Villarama in particular gives us a chilling moment when he retreats into a humiliated silence that foreshadows a burst of venomous machismo. The Medinas’ daughter, Mica (Mica Pineda), and her husband Ely (Nelsito Gomez) portray a younger generation’s conflicting politics, as well as how family hides their views from each other in order to keep the peace. And Phi Palmos as Norby, the Valderamas’ queer son and drag entertainer/activist in support of Leni, doles out heaps of charm, bravery, and song, all with a smile on his face and thunder in his voice.

From its November 2022 debut to its May, 2023 reprise (the story now taking place this year, the updates to Floy Quintos’s The Reconciliation Dinner to reflect the present are commendable—both the design and dialogue reflect recent events, such as diplomatic talks in May between President Marcos and President Biden. I left the theater wishing I saw more plays in America firing up the audience the way this one did – though I suspect the pressure of living under a second Marcos administration, with the memory of dictatorship lingering in the zeitgeist, would make Filipinos more ardent in their reactions to this play, regardless of their place in the political spectrum or at the dinner table.

Power Mac Center Blackbox Theater at Circuit Makati in Makati, Metro Manila, Philippines. Closed.

Macbeth

Reviewed by Philip Brandes
Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum
Through September 23

RECOMMENDED

It’s good to be the King—or is it? The titular Scottish monarch and his Lady consort discover many reasons to regret their lust for power in the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum’s haunting production of Macbeth.

Making excellent use of a 26-member ensemble and the outdoor Topanga venue’s expansive natural canyon backdrop, Ellen Geer’s atmospheric staging leans into the eerie supernatural elements in William Shakespeare’s blood-steeped tragedy.

When some spooky witches notify battle-hardened soldier Macbeth (Max Lawrence) about his impending upward mobility and ultimate fate, a more secular-focused production might make do with a cackling trio who strut and fret their lines upon the stage and then are heard no more. Here, however, a writhing, demonic foursome not only deliver their cryptic clues but lurk around the periphery to delight in the ensuing mayhem.

Macbeth’s response to the prophecy that he will soon be king raises a fundamental question about the character’s arc: is he a heroic warrior seduced into moral bankruptcy by the witches and his ruthlessly ambitious wife (Willow Geer)? Or was he just born that way?

In Lawrence’s assured performance there’s a clear choice: from the outset, the witches’ prophesies fall on receptive ears. This innately sociopathic Macbeth fully understands that achieving his desired destiny requires the murder of King Duncan (suitably regal Franc Ross, who later doubles as the comical Hellsgate Porter).

Macbeth’s only moment of hesitation comes in considering the enormity of this regicide: killing Duncan is not just an assassination, it is the upending of an entire natural order. Fortunately, Geer’s  steely and sultry Lady M provides the reassurance that Duncan’s throne occupancy is merely a temp job (a nice change of pace from the Theatricum veteran’s more genteel roles). 

Once he crosses the threshold, Lawrence’s Macbeth steadily builds in remorseless malevolence—it’s in-for-a-penny, in-for-a-pound for him as the bodies pile up. 

Particularly horrific is the callous glee with which Macbeth engineers the murder of his stalwart fellow-solder and bestie, Banquo (Jeff Wiesen). Slain Banquo’s ghastly apparition crashing the Macbeths’ dinner party stands out among Tracy Wahl’s consistently fine costume designs, and dials the creepy factor to eleven. 

Banquo’s fate was sealed by his presence at Macbeth’s first encounter with the witches, who also foretold the threat he posed to Macbeth’s reign. Though both friends received supernatural prophesies that spoke to their dark ambitions, Wiesen’s Banquo maintains an uncorruptible decency and integrity that further illuminates the receptive rot at Macbeth’s core.

Ironically, it’s Geer’s even more merciless Lady Macbeth who descends into guilt-ridden madness as she struggles in vain to wash away that indelible damned spot of conscience.

Lawrence handles Macbeth’s resulting “Out, out, brief candle” soliloquy with commanding force and a chilling lack of affect at the loss of his life partner-in-crime. Still, adding a shudder at the implicit prospect of his own mortality would make the speech more than an academic lecture on existentialism — after all, at this point the only human emotion still left festering in him is fear of the fine print in the witches’ prophesies of his own invincibility. Why not show it here?

That fear becomes abundantly apparent, however, with the predicted movement of Burnham Wood, camouflaging the advancing opposing troops (could you ask for better props than all that lush Topanga foliage?). Macbeth’s mounting terror culminates in the punchline to the world’s most macabre Caesarian section joke, as he squares off in a well-choreographed duel with his nemesis, Macduff (a notably complex Aaron Hendry, who conveys in just a few lines the grief his character endures at having abandoned his family to Macbeth’s murderous thugs).

Macduff’s revenge is sweet, but ’twould be sweeter still had not budgetary constraints reduced the tyrant’s severed head to a hoisted burlap sack. In other respects, though, the production doesn’t short-change the shocks in Shakespeare’s unnerving meditation on the nature of evil. 

The precision and clarity in Ellen Geer’s staging are bound to satisfy viewers already familiar with the play, and provide a thrilling introduction for MacNewbies.

Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum, 1419 N. Topanga Canyon Blvd.,Topanga; in rep thru Sept. 23, see website for schedule; https://theatricum.com/macbeth/; Running Time:  2 hours and 5 minutes including intermission.

Julius Caesar

Independent Shakespeare Company
Reviewed by Taylor Kass
Through July 30th

RECOMMENDED

Power is a slippery slope. In William Shakespeare’s political drama Julius Caesar, returning hero Caesar (David Melville, who also directs this production) is a larger-than-life figure, complete with adoring crowds, magnificent statues, and the promise of a crown. But to senators Brutus (William Elsman) and Cassius (Sabra Williams), Caesar is all too human. He has seizures, is deaf in one ear, and behaves quite dramatically when he had a cold. This is the man who’s turning the hard-won republic into a dictatorship? Call it envy or call it genuine concern for Rome’s future – the senators decide that Caesar must die. As the opening show of their Griffith Park Free Shakespeare Festival, the Independent Shakespeare Company’s production is brutal and sparse, just like the text.

In a pre-show announcement, Cinna the Poet (Kelvin Morales) casts the audience as the play’s chorus. Shouting along to prompts on an onstage screen, it’s as easy to get swept up in Caesar’s magnanimity as it is to get sucked into the frenzy of the assassination plot. Williams plays Cassius, the instigator of the plot, as a bitter and pushy loner who lacks Brutus’ steadfast likeability. Cassius needs a figurehead to legitimize the power grab; Brutus needs someone to convince him that murdering Caesar is as benign as crushing a serpent’s egg. But their best speeches and their most logical reasoning fails when it comes time to put their daggers to Caesar’s flesh. Caesar’s assassination is shocking in its clumsiness; the senators are stunned at the juxtaposition between their lofty political ideals and their bloody hands.

While the energy leading up to Caesar’s assassination is relentlessly intense, it’s challenging to keep the momentum up after his death. Caesar’s heir Marc Antony (Hiwa Chow Elms) successfully stokes the public’s rage with an emotional speech at Caesar’s funeral, but the political fallout of the assassination and the formation of Marc Antony’s new triumvirate are difficult to follow. By the time that Brutus and Cassius face off with Marc Antony in the play’s final battle for control of Rome, neither faction seems better than the other. But maybe that’s the point.

 The Old Zoo at Griffith Park, main lawn, 4801 Griffith Park Dr., Los Feliz; Wed. – Sun. 7p.m.; through July 30. www.iscla.org. Running time: 2 hours and 25 minutes with one 20-minute intermission.

Misery

Reviewed by Terry Morgan
The Garage Theatre
Through August 12

 RECOMMENDED

For some unknown reason, Southern California is having a little theater horror boom at the moment, with at least four shows playing concurrently – Beetlejuice, Exorcistic, The Ants and Misery. As a horror fan, I intend to see them all. I previously expressed my disappointment with The Ants in my review for Stage Raw, so I’m happy to report that The Garage Theatre’s production of Stephen King’s Misery is a great example of how to do the horror genre well. The two lead performances are excellent, William Goldman’s adaptation captures the strength of the story, and sledgehammer fans will be very happy.

Famed romance novelist Paul Sheldon (Rory Cowan), author of the bestselling series of books featuring the beloved heroine Misery Chastain, has been in a bad car accident in Colorado. When he awakens after the crash, he is recuperating in bed at the home of Annie Wilkes (Jade Yancosky), who informs him that she’s his number one fan. She pulled him from the wreck and claims that the phones are down and the roads are blocked from a snowstorm. As days go by, however, Paul begins to realize that Annie is lying to him, and with two broken legs, he is actually her prisoner.

Yancosky is superb as Annie, lulling us in with the goofy character who uses words such as “oogie” and “cockadoodie,” then startling us with the cruel monster behind the silly prattle. Cowan is great in the trickier role of Paul, who has to make being bedridden interesting. He does so, going along with Annie’s quirks, gradually realizing with dismay how terrible his situation is. The fact that Cowan looks a bit like King himself in his costume adds an extra level of resonance. Finally, Gary Williams brings an effective slow-burn of suspicion to his role as Sheriff Buster that gradually adds tension to the play.

Director Cat Elrod gets fine performances from her cast and stages the show expertly, making use of every bit of the small theater space. She manages an especially chilling moment when the lights go down on a screaming Paul, whose cries of agony continue after the lights have gone down for the next scene transition. Goldman’s script is unsurprisingly solid – he also wrote the screenplay to the film – but he’s tightened it up even more for the stage. Especially in an intimate theatre setting, the audience feels as trapped as Paul, which heightens the suspense considerably.

Misery is a darkly humorous show, but doesn’t skimp on the shock value. Fans of the genre should take this battered valentine about artists and their fans to their “dirty bird” hearts.

The Garage Theatre, 251 E. 7^th St., Long Beach; Thurs.- Sat. 8 p.m..; through Aug. 12. www.thegaragetheatre.org. Running time: one hour and fifty minutes with no intermission.

The Fire at the Edge of the Earth

Reviewed by Socks Whitmore
Eight Ball Theatre at The Hudson Guild Theatre
Through July 30, 2023

RECOMMENDED

“I think the future could be so much better than the present… if we get it right.”

On the tiny stage of the Hudson Guild Theatre, two lovers on the precipice of their relationship (and the top of a legendary mountain) reckon with their very nature. The Fire at the Edge of the Earth is the inaugural production of Eight Ball Theatre, a start-up collective founded by the 8 members of USC’s Acting BFA Class of 2023 and committed to “accessible theater that tells stories from fresh perspectives.” After a successful run at the 2022 Edinburgh Fringe Festival, the two-man play by company member Zack Rocklin-Waltch brings a story of queer love and perpetual human heartbreak to Los Angeles for its U.S. premiere.

The novelistic title and the minimalist set may appear unassuming, but what lies within is a complex and intelligent journey through myth, memory, and the present moment of two men in love scaling the mountain from the legend of Prometheus. Titans and gods are not the focus of the trek, however, but rather the profound contemplation that the Prometheus of myth was never meant to give fire to humankind—and that the defiance of fate in the name of progress created the mess we’re in now. The epic allegory compares the Promethean feat to the queer experience; when the predetermined timeline of one’s life is rescripted by the impossibility of who they are, the “titans of intellect” must make their own way. This reflection on human evolution is woven through both everyday conundrums and mythical quests, bearing witness to Pluto and Vector (playwright Rocklin-Waltch and Michael MacLeod, respectively) as they shift from tender and soft to tense and codependent. Watching the pair lovingly describe one another and their love story is especially warming, just as Pluto’s displayed anger and rigidity is stiffening.

The piece largely dwells in a conversational, intimate space as it unpacks these concepts in detail. The first 15 minutes rush a little too eagerly into philosophical discussion and physical stagnancy, and the interspersed flashback scenes don’t quite set up solid narrative ground for Pluto’s sudden emotional shift on the mountaintop. But even for these minute flaws, The Fire at the Edge of the Earth can leave one touched with a deep understanding that the “edge of the earth” is also a historical precipice: we were never meant to reach this moment, but we’re here now and capable of change… though perhaps not alone.

Eight Ball Theatre at The Hudson Guild Theatre, 6539 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood. Opens Sat., July 8; Sat., 8:30 pm, Sun., 2:30 pm; thru July 30. https://www.tickettailor.com/events/eightballtheatre/945851# Running time: 70 minutes

Garden of Alla

Reviewed by Joseph Klink
Theatre West
Through July 23, 2023

RECOMMENDED

Who is Alla Nazimova? A cunning and revolutionary artist of the early 1900s, she was internationally recognized for her work in theater and silent film. She studied with Constantin Stanislavski at the Moscow Art Theatre, she performed Ibsen and Chekhov on Broadway, she was openly part of the LGBTQIA+ community, and she was one of the first female directors, producers, writers and editors in the film industry. How is it that her name and story have remained buried beneath Hollywood while her contemporaries persist?

Theatre West presents Garden of Alla: The Alla Nazimova Story, and whether you are familiar with early Hollywood history or not, this insatiable queer icon, and this one-woman show honoring her, is a masterfully illuminating experience. Written and performed by Romy Nordlinger and having premiered in 2017, this production has met audiences across the US and overseas at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Nordlinger has put in the hours and she succeeds in bringing Nazimova to life.

As the house opens there are clips from Alla’s films projected on the back walls. We gain the slightest sense of her and what it was like to see her acting. Then the fire, herself, takes the stage. “I am not a woman, not a man, not tall, not short, not fat, not thin…”, she says. She wields power from the start. Audiences are taken back through time as she intimately shares her experiences being Jewish in czarist Russia before; moving first to New York where she quickly rose in theater; and later to Los Angeles, with her Garden of Alla, a 2.5 acre estate on Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood. Directed by Lorca Peress, this production does not miss a beat and brings audiences in close. Video and graphics design by Adam Jesse Burns match with lighting design by Malcom Wilson, score and sound by Nick T. Moore; they all come together magnificently to establish an impressive space. 

Most importantly, Nordlinger’s performance is an example of dedication. She is an expert. Her writing gives us the history and the context in a personal and impressionable manner. It is storytelling with potential to bridge the gap between never learning about this great artist and making her story known as it should be. Nordlinger makes strong choices in physicality, embodying several people from Nazimova’s life, and her energy demonstrates the sort of excellent stage presence that the titular figure was known for.

Those previously familiar with Nazimova are aware that she became a controversial figure in Los Angeles, working under a male pseudonym, and this is probably the main reason why she has been forgotten. Yet her spirit would arguably resonate with audiences now more than ever.

Garden of Alla, written and performed by Romy Nordlinger, presented by Theatre West, located at 3333 Cahuenga Blvd West, Los Angeles; Fri.-Sat. @ 8 pm, Sundays @ 2 pm, thru July 23.  Running time 80 minutes with no intermission. https://theatrewest.org/on-stage/2023/garden-of-alla-the-alla-nazimova-story

The Tempest

Reviewed by Martίn Hernández
The Antaeus Company, Kiki & David Gindler Performing Arts Center
Through July 30

RECOMMENDED

Director Nike Doukas adds a three-piece combo and rocking beat to Shakespeare’s tale of magic, revenge, and love in a production that is part musical, part radio play, and all fun. Rather than a set that depicts the play’s island motif, Doukas and scenic designer Angela Balogh Calin strategically place tables – cluttered with sundry auditory devices – and a handy spiral staircase on the stripped-down stage. The cast members use handheld, standing, and table microphones as props and to deliver the tunes, dialogue, and vocal and mechanical sound effects.

Twelve years have passed since Prospero (Peter Van Norden), the powerful sorcerer and former Duke of Milan, and his then three-year-old daughter Miranda (Anja Racić), were deposited on a tropical island after his two-faced brother Antonio (Bernard K. Addison) deposed him. While he rails about his sibling’s coup d’état, Prospero is a usurper as well, enslaving native dwellers such local sprite Ariel (Elinor Gunn), and Caliban (guitarist JD Cullum). Caliban is half-man, half-monster, son of the witch Sycorax, who ruled the island but died before Prospero’s arrival. While Ariel willfully does Prospero’s bidding, either from love or a hope for her freedom, Caliban is a jealous nemesis who desperately wants his throne back.

Prospero, with Ariel’s undercover aid, has brewed up a massive storm to shipwreck onto his atoll his brother Antonio; Antonio’s accomplice and King of Naples, Alonzo (Adrian LaTourelle); Alonzo’s equally deceitful brother, Francisco (pianist John Allee); Prospero’s old ally, Gonzala (Saundra McClain); and Alonzo’s beloved but naïve son, Ferdinand (Peter Mendoza), who gets separated from the others only to meet cute with Miranda. Dimwitted crew members Trincula (Erin Pineda) and Stephano (LaTourelle) also wash up on shore and meet up with Caliban to take over the island from Prospero, but besotted hijinks may gum up their plan.

Taking cues from the likes of Mel Brooks and The Three Stooges, Doukas’s comedic timing is right on point. Designer Julie Keen outfits the actors in contemporary costumes that ably project the characters’ personalities and class standing. Foley designers Jeff Gardner, Doukas and sound designer Jeff Gardner have proffered some inventive tools for sound effects, too funny to name here. The composer John Ballinger’s songs and their renditions by drummer/percussionist John Harvey, Cullum, Allee, and others relate well to the story.

Racić and Mendoza make for a handsome couple, whose nimble maneuvering around mike stands is just one commendable bit of Doukas’s clever staging. Van Norden’s Prospero is stern yet loving and anchors the piece with his regal bearing and sonorous voice and all cast members, notably Gunn, have a firm handle on the vocals as well as the text.

If there is a message to be gleaned from all this frivolity, perchance it’s best delivered by McClain’s Gonzala in her heartfelt call for a land where there is “no use of service, of riches, or of poverty, no contracts . . . no occupation, all men idle, all. And women too. . . No sovereignty.”

The Antaeus Company, Kiki & David Gindler Performing Arts Center, 110 East Broadway, Glendale.; Mon. and Fri. – Sat., 8 p.m.; Sat. – Sun., 2 p.m.;  through July 30. https://antaeus.org or (818) 506-1983

Into the Woods

Reviewed by Socks Whitmore
Ahmanson Theatre
Through July 20, 2023

RECOMMENDED

Once upon a time, in the far-off kingdom of Los Angeles, the touring production of Stephen Sondheim’s twisted musical fairytale Into the Woods arrived on the stage of CTG’s Ahmanson Theatre. After six months on Broadway starring Tony-winning veterans like Sara Bareilles and Brian d’Arcy James, Into the Woods comes to SoCal sporting a new cast line-up and the same four fairytales by the Brothers Grimm: “Jack and the Beanstalk,” “Cinderella,” “Rapunzel,” and “Little Red Riding Hood.” The show weaves these classic capers together into one shared fantastical land, allowing the fairytale protagonists to bump into one another as they chase their happily ever afters—but the story is far from over when they get their happy endings.

On opening night, the enthusiastic audience burst with applause at every opportunity, and with good cause. From start to finish, Lear deBessone’s flawless stage direction teases the humor and zest from a difficult script; even those who have been spurned by the drama’s convoluted plot before may find their relationship to the material restored by the smart choices of this colorful adaptation. The casting brings a much-needed breath of diversity to the 1987 Sondheim show, and each actor is perfectly suited to the part. The vocal performances are excellent across the board—though not without the occasional strained note in the soprano register. Gavin Creel as the Wolf is ferocious and playful, not to mention unrecognizable when he returns to the stage in costume for his primary role as Cinderella’s Prince. The prince brothers are delightfully fruity (to say the least) and the step sisters are wickedly sassy. Montego Glover is saucy and delicious as the Witch, slaying with a riveting rendition of “Last Midnight.” Kennedy Kanagawa deserves a special nod for his spirited service as the cow Milky White, who is endearing, pathetic, and an absolute show stealer.

The use of skeletal puppets for Milky White, Cinderella’s birds, and the heeled shoes of the lady giant (designed by James Ortiz) are just one layer of the inspired choices that make this production so strong. The use of live sound effects from the orchestra brings out the punchlines and flavor of the characters. The orchestra occupies half the stage on an elevated platform, leaving only shallow sections of stage in front and behind for the actors to utilize, but the scenes are rarely less dynamic for it — with only a few on-set props and a forest of cylindrical paper trees, the tale makes its way through the storybook woods unhindered by luggage. The most interesting set piece is Rapunzel’s tower, formed by a mounted painting frame serving as a window above a rolling set of curlicue wooden steps. The scenic contributions (David Rockwell) leave much to the imagination, but in the act prove that even on a Broadway budget, simple sets can carry large stories. The modest decoration leaves ample room for the vibrant array of costumes (Andrea Hood), which aspire to include every color of the rainbow and successfully create vivid contrasts in moderation, though a few pieces miss the mark.

The past year has been bountiful in strong revivals, and Into the Woods is no exception. Whether you’ve seen it a million times or you’ve never seen it before, this is a Sondheim classic as it’s never been done— catch it before the last midnight’s gone.

Ahmanson Theatre, 135 N. Grand Ave, Los Angeles; Tues-Sat, 8 pm, Sun, 2 pm, Sun, 1 pm & 6:30 pm; thru July 20. https://www.centertheatregroup.org/tickets/ahmanson-theatre/2022/into-the-woods Running time: 2 hours and 45 minutes, with one 15 minute intermission

The Cherry Orchard

Reviewed by F. Kathleen Foley
South Pasadena Theatre Workshop 
Through August 6

RECOMMENDED

Watching The Cherry Orchard, Anton Chekhov’s last play, you might somehow be put in mind of a horror movie where the characters blunder into the cellar knowing full well that a psychotic slayer is at large.

The foolishly feckless aristocrats in the play, whose beloved cherry orchard is about to fall under the auctioneer’s gavel, have every opportunity to avert disaster but are unable to act to forestall their doom. Trapped in the rapidly congealing amber of their generational privilege, they are deaf to the echoes of revolution in the wind.

As for the play’s current production at South Pasadena Theatre Workshop, I have a simple question: Where has this venue been all my life?

Apparently, the Workshop has been around for the past dozen years or so, and although their production history has been somewhat scant, this solidly realized production, seen here in Tom Stoppard’s definitive translation/adaptation, establishes it as top-notch entity on the local theater scene.

The aristocrats we meet here are not of the boot-on-the-neck, crush the peasants variety. Essentially well-meaning albeit tragically oblivious, they have simply been over-bred to the point of Darwinian extinction.

Lyubov Ranevskaya (Sally Smythe) has just returned to her ancestral estate from Paris, where she was robbed and jilted by her lover. Nearly bankrupt, she still opens her purse to anyone with a hard luck story, much to the frustration of her eldest daughter Varya (Roshni Shukla), who has been running things on a shoestring in her absence.

Ranevskaya’s boorish, verbose brother Gaev (Lawrence Novikoff) has been kept in almost infantile dependence by his childhood servant Firs (Robert Cesario), a fast-failing elderly retainer who fusses over his charge like a mother hen.

Perpetual student and firebrand Trofimov (Anthony Adu), former tutor to Ranevskaya’s little boy, who drowned on the estate, dredges up painful memories for Ranevskaya. Trofimov soon falls in love with the impressionable Anya (Michaela Ivey), Raneyvskaya’s 17 year old daughter, whose head is turned by his passionate speechifying about shedding the past and embracing a new world order. We fear for her.

Other servants and hangers-on populate this hectic, comical/tragic microcosm, but the voice of reason trying to penetrate the babble belongs to wealthy Lopakhin (Hossein Mardani). The son of a drunken, abusive serf, he has made the most of his ascension into the Russian middle class. Sincerely fond of Ranevskaya, he tries to convince her and her brother to rent out estate parcels to holiday-goers, which will not only pay off their debts but assure their future prosperity. When all his efforts fail and he purchases the property at auction, he is giddy with triumph, disbelieving of this “dream” that has transformed him from slavery to supremacy in one generation. Yet, in true Chekhovian fashion, he is also mired in inaction, letting his opportunity to propose to Varya slip sadly by.

Among the outstanding design elements, Clay Wilcox’s set is particularly eye-catching. Puffs of cherry blossoms cannot distract us from that desiccated tree in the corner – a striking symbol of the fate that awaits this soon-to-be demolished orchard – and, by extension, its owners.

Director Sam Cass and assistant director Kila Packett make the most of their superb cast in a staging that brims with quietly effective moments so subtle, they are gone almost before we are aware of them. Yet they also handle crowd scenes, in particular a lively dance sequence, with brisk assurance.

Solidly realized in every particular, Cherry Orchard plays in repertory with Dakin Matthews’s adaptation of The Seagull through August 6.

South Pasadena Theatre Workshop, 1507 El Centro St., South Pasadena. Sat., 5 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; thru Aug. 6. https://SouthPasadenaTheatreWorkshop.com. Two hours 15 minutes including intermission.

Fetch Clay, Make Man

Reviewed by Deborah Klugman
Kirk Douglas Theatre
Through July 2

RECOMMENDED

It’s hard to imagine two public figures more dissimilar in their representation of the African American community than Stepin Fetchit, an actor whose fame rested on his clichéd portrait of a lazy shuffling Negro, and Muhammad Ali, a champion boxer and cultural icon who defied convention and whose embrace of Islam and criticism of the White Establishment cost him dear.

Yet historically, the two men were friends — or at the very least acquainted. A photo in which they appear together served as inspiration for playwright Will Power’s Fetch Clay, Make Man, which reflects not only on the struggle of Black men and women to preserve their dignity in our racist society but on the thorny role of religion and ideology in defining who we are as individuals.

Power espied the photo in a large coffee table book about Ali that he discovered in Marcus Book Store in San Francisco one day when he was browsing. It was taken in 1965 — which happened to be the year of the march on Selma, and two years following Martin Luther King’s clarion “I Have a Dream” speech. It was also the year that Malcolm X, at odds with the Nation of Islam, was assassinated. The photo was taken in May, on the eve of Ali’s return match with Sonny Liston, which he was widely expected to lose. It featured, according to Powers, Ali “and his entourage, which included his trainer, his bodyguards and his sidekick, looking defiantly into the camera.” What caught the playwright’s eye was the unlikely presence of Fetchit among them.

How and why was Fetchit there? So intrigued was Power by this anomaly that he wrote a whole play about it.

In his imagined scenario, Ali (Ray Fisher) has invited Fetchit (Edwin Lee Gibson in a sterling performance) to his dressing room to glean information about the technique of former boxing champ, Jack Johnson, whom Fetchit had known back in the day. How did Johnson defeat his rivals, Ali wants to know — or more specifically, did he have a “secret” punch that Fetchit knew about and that he could now relay to Ali himself to aid him in this confrontation with Liston?

Fetchit is caught off-guard and denies knowing anything of a secret punch — but his interview with Ali continues anyway. The celebrity boxer has taken a shine to the now frail and ailing former actor, much to the disgust of his valet and quasi-bodyguard Rashid (Wilkie Ferguson III), a Muslim and fanatical ideologue who hasn’t time for the likes of an “Uncle Tom” sellout like Fetchit.

Amidst the tensions and contrasts among these three men, the play speculates on the relationship between Ali and his first wife Sonji (Alexis Floyd), who passionately adores her husband and has converted to Islam at his request, but who is finding its harsh strictures on women demeaning. Her ire is especially fueled by the efforts of the self-righteous Rashid to define “her place.” A fifth character, the movie producer William Fox (Bruce Nozick) appears in flashbacks; in these we see a younger, healthier Fetchit at the height of his career — a moneymaker for both himself and the studios, and a smart tough negotiator on his own behalf. Fox (instead of being a cliché) gets to tell his story too —that of a self-made millionaire who clawed his way up from ghetto rubble. The role is a solid cameo, and Nozick, a veteran at playing tough-talking dudes, runs with it.

Fetch Clay, Make Man doesn’t deliver a narrative with a beginning, a clear middle and an end; it’s more a series of scenes with a landscape of views on religion, race and the role of women at a pivotal moment in our history. But it works supremely well as such because the characters through which its perspectives are filtered are so richly and skillfully drawn.

Directed by Debbie Allen, the story comes most spectacularly to life in Gibson’s intricately fashioned portrayal of a vulnerable elderly man who, despite physicals failings, remains nobody’s fool. Fisher, who performed the role of Ali in the play’s Off-Broadway premiere at New York Theatre Workshop in 2013, projects the bluster of the former champ but without the finely tempered nuances of a memorable portrayal. That missing nuance is likewise underdeveloped in the scenes between Ali and Sonji, a shortcoming I perceived as one of direction. Ferguson is despicably spot-on as a true believer who fails to respect the humanity of anyone who doesn’t support his cause.

Sybil Wickersheimer’s interior is spare and functional, with effective lighting by Tom Ontiveros and enhancing sound and composition by Lindsay Jones. Pablo N. Molina’s projection design provides historical scope. Sara Ryung Clement’s costumes for Sonji struck me as transitioning too swiftly and radically from Muslim garb to party dress without being especially flattering to the performer.

Kirk Douglas Theatre, 9820 Washington Blvd., Culver City; Tues.-Sat., 8 pm, Sat., 2 pm, Sun., 1 pm & 6:30 pm; thru July 2. https://www.centertheatregroup.org/tickets/kirk-douglas-theatre/2022-23/fetch-clay-make-man/. Running time: two hours and 15 minutes with an intermission.