Gonzaga grad to be on *Friday Night Lights*

Jeff Rosick, Gonzaga '08 and a theater arts major, has just started filming the upcoming fifth season of NBC's show about high school football culture in a dusty Texas town. Rosick (John Proctor in The Crucible, the lonely kid in This Is Our Youth here at Gonzaga) will play Buddy, who has returned to Dillon and wishes he hadn't.
Best of all, it's a seven-episode gig.
And that's a pretty good line in the ol' IMDB entry for an actor who's just two years out of college.

review of *To Kill a Mockingbird* (readers theater version)

continues Monday, March 1, at the South Hill Library, 3324 S. Perry St.
and
on Wednesday, March 3, at 7:30 pm at the Barnes & Noble just east of the Spokane Valley Mall
Free
(See Feb. 18 Inlander, p. 55, and the Calendar of Events)



One of the revelations of a streamlined readers theater version of To Kill a Mockingbird is its emphasis on plot and action: no time for the adult Scout’s narrative voice, ma’am -- or for a few of the characters and several episodes.
All sacrificed for the sake of intro / trial scene / aftermath.
But there were gains, too: Atticus’s appeal is directed right at us, the virtually all-white audience. Scout, Jem, Dill and the Reverend all sat in the “courtroom’s Negro balcony” in the row right in front of me inside Wolff Auditorium inside Gonzaga’s Jepson Hall.
Director Brian Russo had actors entering and exiting through all four available aisles.
The impact of being in the room when a white man stands above Tom Robinson, glaring at him and repeatedly calling him “boy.”
The reminder, which you get in performance and not in reading the book, of Tom’s crippled left arm (a crucial plot point, you’ll recall) -- sitting there, stoic and silent.
Well-acted, costumed and blocked. No weaknesses in the cast at all; if I had to pick standouts, I'd select Nate Clemons' marked, younger-version resemblance to Gregory Peck as Atticus, and Kiki Wright's impassioned fear of being humiliated when on the witness stand as Mayella Ewell, the girl who accuses Tom Robinson of rape. 

In the novel, Miss Maudie (here, Lindsay DeLong) delivers the title speech about one-third of the way through; in Christopher Sergel's stage adaptation, it comes almost at the top of the show -- pointing a big index finger toward the interpretation that the generosity of Boo Radley (Ryan Knowles) is the kind of thing that is beautiful and should never be dismissed, and that the dignity of Tom Robinson (Christian Santa Maria, who's not black, but then this is readers theater) likewise is a rare and beautiful thing. It is indeed a sin to kill (or want to kill) either one of them.

It was like watching the novel, all sped up, and also more visceral: Bob Ewell (Chris Wheatley, effective as a racist hillbilly, and then, in quite a contrast, remarkably articulate during the post-show discussion) spitting in Atticus' face; Atticus leaning into the faces of witnesses; seeing the final attack and rescue in the light, and not imagining it in some dark field at night; and so on.
Bobo co-led a talkback afterwards (with some interesting audience comments) along with Prof. Vik Gumbhir, who specializes in sociology and criminology and who set forth the details of the Scottsboro Boys case (nine black youths accused of raping white girls in 1931 Alabama -- a notorious case that Harper Lee is clearly alluding to in her novel).

These are the kind of events that the NEA's Big Read brings to our community -- and next year, while it's not yet official, it looks as if we have a good chance to have the Big Read again, with a more recent American novel, accompanied by the novelist himself making an appearance. But that's for more than a year from now.

[ photo: Harper Lee in Aug. 2007; from msnbc.com ]

review of "Pride and Prejudice*

[portrait of Jane Austen from english.upenn.edu]

The best things about Gonzaga's production of Pride and Prejudice (continuing tonight at 7:30 pm and on Sunday at 2 pm) are the stage adaptation of the novel by Marcus Goodwin (which he himself directed at Seattle's Book-It Rep Theater nine years ago) and the direction of Brian C. Russo, in keeping the traffic of so many Regency dandies and high-waisted gowns flowing.
The opening image is impressive: all five Bennet girls striding confidently right at us and sharing the famous opening line about "a single man in possession of a good fortune": At a stroke, the aggressive/precarious/desperate situation of the unmarried daughters is established.
There is much moving-about of furniture and clambering into and out of carriages, but Goodwin and Russo have managed to mingle scenes both crowded and intimate in a mostly fast-moving way. Several first-act scene transitions, however, lagged, slowing the pace; entrances should start before exits are fully completed.
The standouts in the cast are Brigid Carey -- showing range in dual roles, from the hands-thrown-up-and-shrieking society-gossip hysteria of Mrs. Bennet to the remote hauteur of Lady Catherine DeBourgh -- and Jason Meade as Mr. Darcy -- handsome and aloof at first, but gradually making the transition to a man willing to explain himself and show his vulnerabilities.
I'm no Austen expert, but it didn't appear that any major chunks had fallen out of Goodwin's stage version. Which is both a strength and a weakness. Somehow he encapsulates an entire novel in about 2:20 of running time (with intermission), and the pace has almost cinematic quickness. But no one reads P&P all at one go -- and being subjected to a crash course of country strolls and elaborate missives and squealing excitement and hands excitedly clasped in anticipation of the next gentleman caller ... well, I love Austen, but her talent is for the dry narrative observation (not easily included in a theatricalized version, though Goodwin includes several, announced presentationally by the actors). Austen's narrator's voice, of course -- even with the adapter working hard to preserve it -- is going to fall out of any stage version.

Russo shared with me that, when asked about the fall production, women in particular would repeatedly volunteer their personal connection with Austen's novel. And it's true: Elizabeth Bennet (played here by Millie Duchow, straining too much vocally but good at being feisty and self-assertive, as she was with in the title role of Shrew this summer) has to face familiar obstacles: overcoming her own misperceptions; fighting the restrictions of class and gender prejudice; fending off acquaintances who are snooty, superficial and stupid; enduring the insufferable self-regard of that damnably handsome (and rich!) Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth, in other words, provides a template for women's self-determination in a world with rules (all that curtseying and formal dancing and yes-Mum propriety).
Michael Barfield's unctuous Mr. Collins (the nerdy clergyman with no social skills and elevated self-image) was subtly comic: slight stumbles, twitchy mouth, out-of-step awkwardness, a wonderful mixture of ineptitude and self-confidence -- an awkward bear cub scampering among all the ladies with their pretty dresses.
John Hofland's set design sketched in Regency elegance with five large gilt frames depicting a mansion's exterior, the corner of a grand ballroom, and so on. With some inlaid designs surrounding a central wooden floor, and with Summer Berry's gowns and waistcoats depicting the formal wear of Austen's world, we got a strong sense of how constrained these people were by etiquette and propriety.
The second act dragged and the acting's uneven, but the Gonzaga Pride and Prejudice provides a Cliff's Notes reminder of what Austen's novel is like, and the many challenges that likeable Elizabeth faces and overcomes. Just old-fashioned chick lit? No. Universalized human experience performed so convincingly that the high stakes will be apparent to all? Not that either. The Goodwin/Russo Austen provides many amusing moments and scattered insights, but it's like getting hit with a hardback in the forehead: There's an overwhelming sameness when you drink your P&P all at once.

*Pride and Prejudice* at Gonzaga

Performances still remaining on Thursday, Friday and Sunday
Directed by Brian Russo

Gonzaga University Theatre presents Pride and Prejudice • Friday, Oct. 23, at 7:30 pm; Saturday, Oct. 24, at 2 pm; Thursday, Oct. 29, at 7:30 pm; Friday, Oct. 30, at 7:30 pm; and Sunday, Nov. 1, at 2 pm • Tickets: $12; $10, Gonzaga staff; $4, students Gonzaga, Harry and Colleen Magnuson Theatre • 502 E. Boone Ave • Call: 313-6553

Gonzaga theater events this weekend

Thursday, April 30, from 2:30-3:30 pm, Theatre Dance Studios, 1108 N. Pearl St., two blocks east of Division
Scenes and monologues from Ibsen, Pirandello, Ionesco, and original works performed by Gonzaga's advanced acting students.

Thursday, April 30, from 7:30-9:15 pm, Magnuson Theatre (east end of College Hall, 502 E. Boone Ave.)
"Stab Me in the Back, Kiss Me on the Cheek": Student-directed American one-acts, and you get to rate the plays.
Also on Friday, May 1, same time

Bloomsday night, Sunday, May 3, from 7:30-9 pm, Magnuson Theater
"Solutions": four student-written one-acts about the developmentally disabled and adopted persons

Free; donations requested for Sunday night's show only
russob@gonzaga.edu or 313-6551

[ photo: Luigi Pirandello, 1867-1936; from an Italian Website, liberliber.it ]

Shanley play at Empyrean, April 23-26

The Way Off-Broadway Theatre Group continues bringing contemporary plays to Spokane's best coffeehouse on Thursday-Friday, April 23-24, at 7:30 pm; on Saturday, April 25, at 6:30 pm; and on Sunday, April 26, at 4 pm, with performances at Empyrean, 154 S. Madison St.

The show this time is John Patrick Shanley's “The Dreamer Examines His Pillow” (1985), written just a couple of years before Shanley won the Oscar for best original screenplay for *Moonstruck* but a couple of decades before his recent stage and film success with *Doubt.*
Tickets: $7; $5, students. Call 313-6551 or write russob@gonzaga.edu.

Tommy lives in a shabby apartment and imagines himself to be an artist. Donna wants to be his girlfriend, but isn't pleased that Tommy has been fooling around with Donna's 16-year-old sister. So she recruits her dad (played by Gonzaga theater professor Brian Russo) to clarify the situation. With all the philosophizing, misogyny and resentments, "Dreamer" shapes up as "an anti-romantic comedy." Performances will be just 75 minutes long.
[ photo: John Patrick Shanley at wwd.com ]

still in the cage

Lessons from doing The Zoo Story
Bobo and Brian Russo were asked by Tom Davis of the Peaceful Valley community to perform the play one last time (we did four performances at Empyrean in late April) -- only this time, in an actual outdoor city park:
Saturday, June 21, at 7:30 pm, at Glover Field, outside where the marmots roam just east of the Peaceful Valley Community Center (which is itself below and just east of the Maple St. Bridge) Five bucks; cash only. Outdoors. We're apparently going to be miked, because of the rushing-river noise. We'll literally have to sweep up all the marmot shit out of the playing area in order to be able to perform. The setting does have a Central Park in NYC vibe, which is suited to where Albee placed his 1959 play.

Bobo doesn't think he was very good in the role. (Way to keep that confidence up, going into one last performance!) I mean, I don't think I completely embarrassed myself, but I think I overreacted while listening to Brian's Jerry rant on and on. I was OK. The knifing scene and tragic ending came off better than I feared -- I really thought it was going to be just laughable and awful, and I _think_ we avoided that. (Not entirely sure.)
I learned how much effort it takes just to publicize a play. Making all the arragnements, putting up all the posters, hoping against hope that somebody, anybody will show up. (We were hoping for 4 x 25 = 100 paid playgoers; we got something like 26 + 20 + 32 + 63 on the four nights. Expecting to LOSE money on this venture, Bobo actually made some money on this gig. Does that make him a professional actor? Ha. Far from it.
I was reminded of all the work that goes into memorizing and blocking and re-blocking a show. Best of all, every time I felt like giving half-effort ("But my job is so demanding!"), I'd remind myself: People who act and volunteer at the Civic (and lots of other theaters in this region) have other jobs, too. They're tired. They still give it their all. Stop whining.
I discovered that varying reactions while listening onstage is really difficult. Jerry is the star; Peter (my part) is just the straight man. Since Brian was the director and the Gonzaga student who was supposed to videotape our performance blew it, we've never really seen ourselves. I'm not saying I was badly directed, or didn't get any direction. I'm just not very good.
But it's good for a critic occasionally (was Guys and Dolls at the Civic really six years ago?) to get out there and take a whack at doing what he so presumptuously criticizes all the time.
The need to practice with props, over and over, paying attention to every little detail even in the awareness that you are not in an earthshaking Broadway show, and does it really matter even a little bit in the grand scheme of things? Just another tiny pebble in the grand edifice of theater history.
The need to bring it every night, never knowing who's going to be out there: The "green room" at Empyrean was their food storage area, a concrete cell. Russo spent the half-hour before curtain every night pacing around, smacking himself, muttering his lines. Opening night, he comes out intense as hell, blew me off the stage. Second night, not quite as sweaty or with it, he goes up entirely at one point (remember, he's got a 15-minute "dog" speech, and that's only one of his long speeches), has to backtrack obviously, I can't figure out how to help him -- and that's the night Michael Weaver was there.
So much for getting a job at ARt.
I really have no idea who showed up. Some friends from work. My wife and daughter. Patrick and Heather McHenry-Kroetch and Abbey Crawford on closing night.
The constant self-berating: could have done this better, should have done that better. Ho-hum -- actors go through that all the time.
The anticlimactic let-down at the end: We put all that effort into it, and now it's not going to be duplicated, ever again, quite the same way (or at all). Welcome to the transience of theater: all the more to be treasured, because we are all wisps, going going gone.

Did going through all these difficulties make me a kinder and gentler critic? Not according to the adherents of Man of La Mancha. More on that in a moment. But Bobo is very much aware that there are dozens, hundreds of people in this town far more talented that he is at singing, dancing, acting, you name it. I'm in awe of the dedication and resolve on view on stages all around here. I often come out of plays thinking, How did she do that? I could never do that.
Disagree with me if you want, but don't think that I'm not a supporter of the Spokane theater scene.