The Burning House Group
Review: "The Bremen Town Musicians"
Holiday Roundup
by CP Staff
“Santaland Diaries“
Eye of the StormTheater
WHEN WRITER DAVID Sedaris (Barrel Fever, Naked) first moved
to New York, he took
a Christmas job playing an elf in Macy's Santaland section,
though his real dream was
to act on One Life to Live. Sedaris quickly assimilated into
Santaland's absurd
subculture, as actor Stephen Cartmell illustrates in this one-man
show (adapted from
Sedaris's eponymous radio monologue). You get the sense that
the decidedly elfin
Cartmell has also become engulfed in the world of an indoor
North Pole. He's so far
inside this story, we forget someone else wrote it. One imagines
the actor must be
haunted by nightmares of monstrous parents and terrified babies;
Santas of varying
levels of delusion about really being Santa; Phil Collins standing
in the photo line.
Cartmell keeps the audience rapt for the whole hour and finds
hidden corners of humor
beyond the text through body language and subtle timing. Santa's
lap will never look the
same again. (Kate Sullivan)
Through December 28, Loring Playhouse; 332-1619.
“Silent
Night Fever”
Martini & Olive
DURING THE FIRST half-hour or so, I had to put down my grilled-cheese
sandwich or
risk pulling a Mama Cass; I was laughing so hard my throat
started to cramp up. Martini
& Olive's '70s pop medleys seem more relentless than ever,
their costumes more
embarrassing than before, and the choreography as painful as
can be. For the
uninitiated, Martini & Olive are a Guffman-esque amateur
song-and-dance duo who cut
and paste swatches of good and bad '70s tunes into gooey extended
remixes, all
punctuated with fabulous moves like you haven't seen since
your sixth-grade talent
show. Their Sonny and Cher-style treadmill of costume changes
will spin your head: the
platforms! the poofy Jackson-Five denim hats! the love handles!
Knowing the
performers (Grant Richey and Judy Heneghan) actually lived
through that desolate
decade as sentient adolescents, one feels these two have earned
the right to cash in on
'70s nostalgia. (Anne Ursu)
Through December 31 at the Bryant-Lake Bowl; call 825-8949.
“The
Bremen Town Musicians”
The Burning House Group
PRESENTED BY THE Burning House Group, “The Bremen Town
Musicians”is a
charming--if not exactly Christmas-spirited--adaptation of
a relatively obscure and
nonsensical Brothers Grimm tale. The story involves four aging
farm animals who set
out to make their living as street musicians. Instead, a sudden
career change comes when the animals frighten
off a band of robbers, steal their food, and--like a kiddie
Clockwork Orange--take over their house.
The Burning House
Group has turned this piece into an interesting and quite watchable
movement-theater experiment. Matt Guidry is particularly impressive
as the rubber-limbed, goofy-eyed donkey. But then he is also
the most clearly schooled disciple of the
Margolis Brown method of movement theater, whose techniques
are both used and
abused here. Wearing cleverly designed outfits--a dog, cat,
rooster, and donkey--that
allow for sufficient anthropomorphism, the troupe does manage
to inject some heart into
the characters despite the dopiness of the tale. And “The
Bremen Town Musicians” is
only 45 minutes long, so it's over before it has a chance to
drag. (Tad Simons)
“The Bremen Town Musicians” continues at the Pillsbury
Playhouse through December
21; 623-9396.
“Black Nativity”
Penumbra Theater
IF ALL NATIVITIES were like this, I might go to church. It's
Penumbra's 11th go 'round
for this show, and one leaves hoping for 11 more. The Nativity
is celebrated through the
whole corporeal vessel: An exuberant gospel choir marvels with
body, voice, and soul;
and the ridiculously talented Jason Ansra Brooks and Luctricia
Welters convey Joseph
and Mary's emotions through handsome choreography. It's lamentable
that Midwestern
theatrical conventions--Minnesota's great white way, if you
will--denies these performers
the response they deserve. The actor's elation would be best
realized in a classic
gospel setting instead of the polite and staid sit-down-and-stay-down
feel of the
Fitzgerald. But then that cold response might be a result of
the literally icy house
atmosphere; the folk at the Fitzgerald seem to be going for
an environmental theater no-room-at-the-inn effect with the
climate control. (Ursu)
Through December 28 at the Fitzgerald
Theatre; 989-5151 (Ticketmaster).
“The Hunt”
Heart of the Beast Puppet and Mask Theatre
AFTER SO MANY years of producing puppet theater for children,
you'd think the folks
at Heart of the Beast would learn something about pace and
momentum--like how to
include some. The Hunt, the story of Christ's birth told both
in English and Spanish and
adapted from the writings of St. Matthew and St. Luke, is a
case in point. Combining
HOTB's best and worst characteristics, The Hunt is a beautifully
imagined, big-puppet
theater spectacle told at a snail's pace with about as much
energy as a napping dog.
You really have to work hard to dull down a show with this
much visual appeal, but
HOTB somehow manages it.
For diehard fans, though, The Hunt
has its pleasures: 10-foot-tall Picasso-esque wise
men; giant dancing reindeer; flying angels; citizens of an
entire village (including Joseph
and Mary) cut out of cardboard. The most inspired and entertaining
parts posit King
Herod as a demonic agent of Wall Street who orders the slaughter
of the innocents via
cell phone--HOTB's obligatory swipe at Big Brother capitalism.
Parents needn't worry too much about the theater's warning
that the slaughter scene
may disturb the tender consciences of children under 10.
When the babies are "shot" by
military goons, the cardboard kids simply pop off their cardboard
parents and fall onto
the floor, where the ghost of death sweeps them up. When asked
what his favorite part
was after the show, my four-and-a-half-year-old son immediately
answered, "the death
skull." So much for the protection of innocence. (Simons)
“The
Hunt” continues at Heart of the Beast Puppet
and Mask Theater through
December 28, 721-2535.
“Gender Vittles”
Dudley Riggs Brave New Workshop
THIS ISN'T A true holiday show, so much as a few holiday-oriented
bits tacked on to the troupe's current offering, a dazed tour
of hotspots in the sexual revolution (which is still
on, believe you me). Skits deal with all areas of sexual preference
among human adults, though the funniest bit takes place in
a support group for people in the process of changing species:
One's becoming a pony, one a loon, the group leader a squirrel.
Some skits are just plain weird, like "Cute Man," a
takeoff of “Dead Man Walking” about
a crazy guy on death row with a freakishly high voice.
The
most remarkable thing about “Gender Vittles”,
though, is the way it veers around all your expectations of
a Brave New Workshop show. It's obviously geared toward a far
younger and hipper audience than shows of recent vintage, with
sketches that don't
seem overly concerned with whether these folks can immediately
understand what's
going on at any given moment. The skits touch on some pretty
painful subjects--castration, domestic violence, sexual harassment,
cruelty to children--and I left feeling a
little greasy all over. I don't recall if the actors swore
(except for using the word "bitch"),
but I feel as if they did--all night long. It's that kind of
show. And for the moment, that's
rather refreshing, considering the source. (Sullivan)
Through January 11 at the Dudley Riggs Theater; 332-6620.
“A
Christmas Carol”
Guthrie Theater
IF “A CHRISTMAS CAROL” is what you want, you must
get to the Guthrie. The Guthrie
has managed to keep this chestnut warm against all odds--though,
granted, it helps inestimably to have Dickens writing your
material. This year's Scrooge, Jarlath Conroy,
is especially good: Instead of eagerly metamorphosing into
a good-doer, Conroy
maintains continuity between malevolent and virtuous Scrooge;
he's the same person,
only peering through a new set of spectacles. (And Conroy's
eyebrows-askew grimace
is one of the Scroogiest I've ever seen.)
Unfortunately, Sir
John Gielgud's taped narration gets lost amid the hubbub of
rousing party scenes, and the great actor's diction is failing.
It's a shame, because the show's sharpest component is still
Dickens's sublime prose. Richard Ooms allows us to see
him trying to be scary as Marley's ghost, which deflates the
spookiness of his bedroom invasion. Still, this excellent “Christmas
Carol” preserves
Dickens's message: None of
us lives in a vacuum, and we ignore human interdependence our
own peril. (Ursu)
Through December 28 at the Guthrie Theater; 377-2224.
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