*Nunsense* photos (and 2003 review)

Nunsense opens Friday night at the Civic and runs through March 6, but hurry and call 325-2507 or (800) 325-SEAT soon, because it's already nearly sold out.

Bobo will have a preview in the print Inlander on Thursday. 

In the meantime, how about a review that appears even before the production has opened? (Wait, that's what they're doing in New York with that Spider-Man musical.) Amuse yourself instead with a review, written by some hack, of the 2003 Nunsense at the Civic.

(Left to right in the top photos: Kathie Doyle-Lipe as Sister Mary Hubert, Patricia Brady as Sister Mary Amnesia, Jean Hardie as Sister Mary Regina, Jillian Wylie as Sister Mary Leo, and Abbey Crawford as Sister Robert Anne)

*White Christmas* review

at Spokane Civic Theatre through Dec. 19

Winter Escape

PLAY REVIEW Dancing, singing and spectacle help White Christmas achieve escapism velocity. What about the parts that don't? MICHAEL BOWEN

Times are tough. You want the holidays to be festive. You want a little escapism.
White Christmas offers escape, all right: tap-dance storms and Fred-and-Ginger waltzing. A torch song that transforms into a lovely duet. The leading ladies parade around in a two-woman fashion show of one elegant '50s gown after another. Amid a multiplicity of well-designed sets, there's one scenic effect toward the end that will take your breath away. And yes, the title song moves from a cappella to singalong in warm, fuzzy, comforting ways.
The muscles and tendons of this production -- acting, dancing, singing, design elements -- then, are quite strong. The show's skeleton, however -- its plot, characterization and dialogue -- have a bad case of osteoporosis.
At one point, an angry outburst -- "That's nothing but a load of guff!" -- provides a good plot summary. Turns out White Christmas doesn't have much at all to do with Christmas: The famous song is just used as a framing device. It'a mostly let's-put-on-a-show sprinkled with the usual boy-gets-girl, loses-girl, gets-girl-again action.
"Oh, that's just old-fashioned escapism," people will say. What's wrong with that? Why not just enjoy it? And over the next several weekends, thousands will -- because this month-long show is already sold out.
Well, escapism doesn't work if half the time (nine out of 16 songs, not counting reprises), the corny-hokey-schmaltz factor has you eyeing your wristwatch instead of watching what's onstage.
The two numbers that are supposed to establish both halves of our love quartet as accomplished performers -- "Happy Holidays" and "Sisters" --come off as vaudeville-cutesy, with the boys in Santa costumes and the girls playing peekaboo with giant blue feathers.
Stereotypes abound -- all blondes are dumb, all men are demonstrably heterosexual, the stage manager (Eric Jeffords, channeling Tommy Tune) is so stressed out. Your eyes may start rolling. Take what Andrea Dawson has to go through, for example, in the Bing Crosby character's love-interest role. She and Kevin Partridge (in the Crosby role) have a whole series of spats, quarrels and tiffs. All night long, she's in and out and in and out and in and out of love. It gets to be annoying.
Still, Dawson does well with the resentful parts of the romantic comedy -- she misinterprets Bob's nervousness for arrogance, and no self-satisfied guy is going to put one over on her -- and in the second-act torch song, "Love, You Didn't Do Right by Me."
Partridge is no Bing Crosby, but he's better looking and better at delivering dry witticisms. Partridge doesn't have The Voice, but then who does? And when he and his tuxedo step into the spotlight for "How Deep Is the Ocean," his love-longing answers her love-disappointment in the evening's vocal highlight.

Most of Act Two prior to that feels like variety-show filler. There's a cutesy "I'm in love" number, followed by a cutesy "we're not in love" number.
When the next song requires a couple to get along, they get along; if not, they don't. One of the worst offenders is "Falling Out of Love Can Be Fun," in which Betty and Judy are dejected over how men are so untrustworthy. Their lines sound almost tragic. So they decide to do a snappy little song-and-dance.
Then there's a drag number, with the boys imitating the girls in a version of "Sisters" reminiscent of the antics at your local Powder Puff football game.. And then the Shirley Temple character came out with shoulder shimmies in a case of adults compelling kids to act like adults, with all the attendant self-consciousness (on the part of the kid) and seat-squirming (on the part of the adults looking on).

Midway through the first act, though, came one of the best things about this show -- called, appropriately enough, "The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing."
The secondary couple have just fallen in love, you see, and things are bustin' out all over. Cameron Lewis and Siri Hafso proceed to provide us with a Fred-and-Ginger moment, with the choreography of director Troy Nickerson (assisted by Jillian Wylie and Kathie Doyle-Lipe) reaching its apogee.
Lewis, with mischievous smirk and raised eyebrows, somehow conveys cleverness and joy all at once: "Look at how good I am, and look at how I got this girl," his actions seem to say. With tiptoe pirouettes and flowing swirls, he's remarkably light on his feet.
Lewis and Hafso waltz and shimmy arms, clap hands and kick, throw in some boogie-woogie moves, move apart and back together, floating across the stage and into each other's arms. It's better than Dancing With the Stars because we've gotten to know Phil and Judy -- they're open and frank about their feelings, not as starched-collar as the main couple -- and because it's emotive dancing (look at how much I'm in love) as opposed to show-off dancing (look at my impressive technique). The two of them are all graceful lifts, curling arms and extended toes. Nickerson, maximizing the romance, adds a vocal quintet and moonlit setting that idealizes the lovers.
Now that's the kind of stuff I can escape into.

Design features are strong. With nine major settings spread across 17 scenes, set designer Peter Hardie ranges from a rustic barn to an elegant cocktail lounge. There's a backdrop featuring a country inn covered in moonlit snow that will take your breath away. (The treetops actually seem to, um, glisten.)
Jan Wanless and her costume crew also work wonders: Every time you look, the two leading women are wearing elegant suits and ballroom-dancing gowns.
The spangles on the some of the tap ensembles' brighly colored vests, however, encapsulate the entire show: Trying too hard to be cheery, they come off as lightweight and insubstantial.
As the old general (who led his battalion with crusty dignity and now runs the inn that's in a cash-flow pinch), Tony Caprile avoids excesses of sentimentality in a heartfelt speech of thanks to his troops (who are seated right where we are). As a tough old broad who runs the Vermont inn, Kathie Doyle-Lipe gets all throaty and pleading in a way that she knows is hilarious in a sexagenarian who wants to get back into show biz. "Put a light on me, I'm like a sunflower!" she squeals, longing for the limelight.

To summarize, then: White Christmas features beautiful sets, detailed and colorful costumes, and some exhilarating choreography.
The score features love duets, gimmick songs, a patriotic chorus, that torch song, a wonderful lullaby and two Christmas carols. An 11-piece band supports two dozen cast members, including the four triple-threat leads.
It's a lot of talent lavished on mediocre material, a lot of overproduced schmaltz with enforced pleasantness.
In his review of the Broadway production two years ago in the New York Times, Charles Isherwood got it right: If what you want is "old-school ... escapism" and" the prospect of singing the title tune along with a bright-beaming ... cast in festive sweaters," then White Christmas will please you. If not, it won't. And some of us aren't so big on festive sweaters.

Local stars mean box-office bonanza?

As part of its Tony coverage, the New York Times included a sidebar on how much big-name stars mean to Broadway's weekly grosses.
Basically, if you have Denzel Washington/Hugh Jackson/Catherine Zeta-Jones/ScarJo in your production and the other guy doesn't, then you will rake in two to four times as much per week.

Which leads to a local application. Kathie Doyle-Lipe has her local following, and for good reason. Some people will go see anything directed by Troy Nickerson — again, for good reason. Perhaps Patrick Treadway, Reed McColm, Ellen Travolta, Jack Bannon, Patrick McHenry-Kroetch and others have similar fan bases? (I don't know, and apologies to anyone I've failed to mention here. You fill in the names.)

Now, Bobo doesn't have access to box-office records hereabouts, and he tends to go to shows on opening night (which has its own buzz, but cannot yet have acquired the shine and increased ticket sales that result from good word-of-mouth). In other words, what does he know?

But here is your chance to praise your fellow artists. Who around here has the marquee name to "open" a show? What examples can you recall of a) poor scripts that sold well because so-in-so was the star, or b) good productions that grossed even better because of a recognizable lead actor?

[ photo: Patrick McHenry-Kroetch as Don Quixote in Man of La Mancha, Spokane Civic Theatre, May-June 2008 ]

review of *Escanaba in da Moonlight*

at Spokane Civic Theatre through April 25

A man with a rifle brings it to bear directly at us. He cocks the hammer. Takes a big, calming breath.
On the way in to the huntin’ lodge for openin’ day of deer season, you see, he’d had a vision. (Maybe it was all those PBRs he drank -- but to him, it was a vision.) A vision of a huge buck, dancin’ on the highway, as he was drivin’, right before his eyes. So he raised his .30-.30 (this being the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, he calls it his “turdy-turdy”) and then he “cocked back the hammer and blew him off the face of the earth.”
This is David Gigler as Remnar Soady -- all mismatched plaids and camo pants -- inviting us into his world for opening’ day here at the world-famous Soady Deer Camp somewhere out in the woods outside the town of Escanaba, where boys become men when they bag their first buck, and all the women have come to the conclusion that all the men are merely morons.
Gigler’s portrayal of Remnar is one of the funniest features of one of the funniest productions the Civic has created in recent years. Director Troy Nickerson’s gift for portraying men making fools of themselves, along with Peter Hardie’s man-cave of a rustic huntin’ lodge set, Hardie’s ominous lighting -- there are creepy things out in the Michigan woods -- Jan Wanless’s costume design (plenty of flannel and ear flaps) and Jeff “Dumberer” Daniels’ comic-onslaught of a script all combine, at breakneck pace, to create an enclave of eccentrics who think they see happiness, don’t know what to make of it, and decide to fire off a few rounds just to work off their frustrations.
Escanaba in da Moonlight, which has been produced all over the country ever since Daniels premiered it in 1995 at the little Upper Peninsula theater that he oversees, is full of sex jokes, gross-out jokes, cockamamie conspiracy theories and concern for the male pecking order.
It’s not men behaving badly, in other words -- it’s men behaving normally.
All that, and Act Two has the Mother of All Extended Fart Jokes.
And there, my friends, is where the comedy lingers.

Wes Deitrick -- with dumb geniality straight out of The Red Green Show, and with the befuddled looks and excess of flannel plaids to prove it -- acts as the clan’s patriarch and the audience’s goofball narrator. If scratching yourself constantly, fantasizing about 18-point bucks, staying in a hootch-induced stupor all day, and making fun of anyone who’s not from northern Michigan seems like it might be a foreign experience, Deitrick’s Albert Soady is there to guide you.
Gigler knows how to play the confident doofus, sure of his hunting mastery right up until he isn’t. (Then the little superstitions tumble out.)
The plot (more like a series of boyish squabbles over nothing’, but funny) revolves around the fact that the other Soady son, Reuben (Civic newcomer Scott Miller, persuasively desperate) has dishonored the family by remaining, at age 35, “buckless“ and “without venison.” (He’s “just not a straight shooter.”)
As Reuben pursues his buck-bagging quest, the action gets entangled with alien abductions, maple-flavored whiskey and Native American rituals (in ways you’ll just have to witness for yourself).
In a show that hurls its eccentricities at you relentlessly, the most eccentric characterization belongs to Todd Kehne as Jimmer Negamanee of Menominne. (Say that fast five times, and you’ll be talking gibberish just like he does. Jimmer hasn’t been the same since strange things happened to him out in the woods, you see.) Kehne is a revelation, with incredibly high energy, antic fits, and expressions that convey his puzzlement that the backwoods boys around him don’t realize that they’re just as insane as he is. (Slightly better diction, is all.)
For a glimpse of the attention to detail, both by Nickerson and his cast, watch the episode when Reuben introduces the gang to some foul-smelling stuff that supposedly wards off evil spirits. The joke -- and as in much of Daniels’ play, you may see it coming, but it’s funny anyway -- is that once it gets all freaky-deaky outside, the guys are going to go for the liquid they were just now acting all squeamish about. One dabs it daintily, with two fingers grazing his neck; one splatters himself; another slathers it on.
Or when characters, seemingly catatonic, suddenly but briefly rise up just to clarify a point or two -- you can see where rehearsals paid off, where Nickerson and his inventive actors had experimented, tried things out, and opted for the funniest bits.

The script and acting both veer off occasionally into the kind of excessive silliness that can make an audience become self-conscious about being directed to laugh instead of simply laughing. The eccentricities of the forest ranger, the predictability of who’s behind Reuben’s vision-quest (and why), the childish exuberance of some of these men’s rituals and superstitions (over-indicated, and with too much stepping on the laughter) all briefly intrude on the fun.
But not much, and not for long. Daniels and Nickerson keep the surprises and the goofin’ at a fever pitch, and the result was a whole lot of belly laughs

People were wiping away tears, they were laughing so hard. (I noticed this, right after wiping away my own.)
That fart joke, it’ll really blow ya away, yah sure.
Escanaba in da Moonlight is one of the funniest and inhibition-shattering comedies you’re likely to see.
I may be more like those “white wine-drinking, Winnebago-driving, fun-sucking trolls” who live in urban areas of the Lower Peninsula (like, God forbid, Detroit) -- and I’ve never handled a “turdy-turdy” rifle in my life, but I’d go back to spend a couple hours with the Soadys anytime. Somehow they remind me of the no-slugs, penalty-beer, passed-out-on-the-couch-so-put-his-fingers-in-warm-water days of my misspent youth.
I’d like to spend some more of it. And the Soadys seems to have their fingers in my pocket.

[ video cover (2001) from hotmoviesale.com ]

*Escanaba in da Moonlight* photos

April 9-25 on Spokane Civic Theater's main stage
by Jeff Daniels

directed by Troy Nickerson
with Wes Deitrick as Albert Soady
Scott Miller as Reuben Soady
David Gigler as Remnar Soady
Todd Kehne as Jiggers Negamanee
Thomas Heppler as Ranger Tom T. Treado
Lynn Komarek as Wolf Moon Dance Soady

Fair warning on *Curtains*

I’ve really struggled with this review. I mean, that one song that calls critics “mentally sick”?
That’s going a bit far.
Sure, there’s a lot of talent on display in Troy Nickerson’s production, but I gotta tell ya, I’ve got some criticisms of several individuals in the show. Sorry.
My review will be out on Thursday.

Audio slide show: *Curtains*

See what director Troy Nickerson and his Krazy Kids are up to here or here.

Curtains, the murder-mystery musical, opens this Friday at Spokane Civic Theatre and runs through Feb. 6.

The minute-long slide show features a voice-over by Andrew Ware Lewis, who plays the role of Lieutenant Frank Cioffi (the role played on Broadway by David Hyde Pierce).

You can view the Civic's self-produced video previews of Curtains and other shows from this season here.

*Curtains" cast list

Scarcely 18 months after the David Hyde Pierce/Debra Monk production closed on Broadway, it'll be Curtains for musical-theater fans on the Main Stage at Spokane Civic Theater, Jan. 15-Feb. 6. (The Australian premiere of Curtains won't take place until a week after the Civic's production closes, and the U.S. tour doesn't start until March.)

Music by John Kander, lyrics by Fred Ebb
Book and additional lyrics by Rupert Holmes
Original book and concept by Peter Stone

Directed by Troy Nickerson
Music Direction by Gary Laing
Choreography by Troy Nickerson and Jillian Wylie

Boston, 1959

Robbin' Hood: A New Musical of the Old West is the musical-within-a-musical

Lieutenant Frank Cioffi (of the Boston P.D.; a fan of musical theater; the David Hyde Pierce part): Andrew Ware Lewis
Carmen Bernstein (co-producer; the Debra Monk part): Mary Starkey
Niki Harris (the ingenue): Liz Oyama

Aaron Fox (the show's composer): Patrick McHenry-Kroetch
Georgia Hendricks (the show's lyricist, divorced from Aaron Fox): Maureen Kumakura
Christopher Belling (the show's director): Lance Edwin Babbitt
Oscar Shapiro (the show's financial backer): David Gigler
Bambi Bernet (chorus girl): SaraEllen Hutchison
Johnny Harmon (stage manager): Thomas Heppler
Sidney Bernstein (Carmen's skirt-chasing husband; he gets his comeuppance): Gary Pierce
Daryl Grady (the theater critic, so obviously he's a douchebag; see definition 3): Doug Dawson
Jessica Cranshaw (the no-talent leading lady who meets a premature demise): Nova Kaine (no WAY this is a pseudonym, no way)

Bobby Pepper: Henry McNulty
Sasha Ilinski (the conductor; obvious typecasting here): Gary Laing
Ensemble: Cynthia Bauder, Kate Cubberley, Victoria Gatts, Siri Hafso, Craig Heider, Shawn Hudson, Todd Kehne, Daniel McKeever, Ross Mumford, Rachel Packard and Christopher Wooley

Ben Brantley's 3/23/07 review in the New York Times is here. 

[ photo from newyorkology.com, with David Hyde Pierce — no relation to Gary? ]

audition for *Curtains*

Sunday-Monday, Nov. 1-2, at 6:30 pm in the downstairs Studio Theater at the Civic, Howard St. and Dean St.
Callbacks: Tuesday, Nov. 3, at 6:30 pm
Production dates: Jan. 15-Feb. 6, 2010

by Kander and Ebb (who died in Sept. 2004), with book and additional lyrics by Rupert Holmes
original book and concept by Peter Stone (who died in April 2003 -- my God, is this show cursed?)

directed and choreographed by Troy Nickerson

Cold readings. Be ready to dance. You'll be asked to perform a verse and chorus from a contemporary musical.
Needed: 12-15 women and 12-15 men (everyone appearing ages 16-65)

Çurtains premiered in L.A. in July 2006; it ran on Broadway from March 2007-June 2008. A U.S. tour is planned starting in March, so it's pretty cool that Spokane's getting it in January.

[photo: from broadwayworld.com; composer John Kander (left) and lyricist Fred Ebb]

Troy Nickerson named Resident Director

Unfortunately, Bobo was out of town for the Civic's second annual Endowment Dinner, but glad to see that Dee Finan was honored for 25 years of costume design at the Civic and that Troy Nickerson has formalized his commitment to direct two shows every season by being named the Civic's Resident Director.
If I may say so (without offending any hyper-sensitive sensibilities around here), he's a real pro.

opening-weekend review of *Godspell*

at the Civic's Studio Theater through April 11

Either you feel the spirit or you don't. Godspell speaks to human emotions, and it shouldn’t be intellectualized. So here's one human's emotional response to director Troy Nickerson’s production: During the silly parable re-enactments, I was smiling; when Jesus said goodbye to one apostle after another, I had a lump in my throat; and when the show was over, I sat in my car and cried — in sadness over my own failings, in sadness for the world. But I also cried for joy — joy that people in my own community could create an evening as touching, funny and profound as Spokane Civic Theatre's Godspell (through April 11 in the Studio Theater).
But only Jesus freaks enjoy Godspell, right? No, because Stephen Schwartz’s show paints a vision of a better world — one that we can all share, the kind where we demand the highest moral standards of ourselves while having hair-trigger forgiveness for others (instead of the reverse).
The all-embracing range of Nickerson's production — from earthy to spiritual, from condemnation to acceptance — is echoed by the range of Robby French's portrayal of Jesus. French soothes and preaches, cajoles and reproves. He does a soft-shoe; he impersonates Groucho Marx. He hangs upon a cross of chains, keening as he’s dying; in the next moment, he’s confident and resurrected, with “Prepare Ye (the Way of the Lord)” joyously reprised to fulfill the show’s Christian message.
God's creation has range too — alpha and omega and all that — so it makes sense that we too might journey from silliness to sadness while watching the story of Christ’s life.
The image of the Savior doing vaudeville shtick may seem irreverent or silly to some, but those sequences reinforce Godspell’s insistence that God isn't some white-bearded abstraction. Instead, in the delapidated subway station of this world, she's the bag lady over in the corner.
Peter Hardie’s graffiti-splattered tile evokes that subway station; even better, his lighting scheme helped emphasize the action in a multi-level, sometimes fast-paced production.
Nickerson’s choreography (assisted by Jillian Wylie) gathers up ‘70s moves, but especially in a number like “O, Bless the Lord, My Soul,” he combines them in inventive ways: dip-stomp-swirl, step-clap-kick, fan hands and — big finish!
During the fast pace for the Jesus-Judas soft-shoe number, "All for the Best," diction suffered, as if Nickerson deliberately chose to slur over the gee-whiz lyrics. Still, French and David Gigler (as Judas in a business suit, full of misgivings) built to a rousing finish.
Becky Moonitz's five-piece band provided musical accents (including a rock-anthem guitar screech for Jesus' death) without overwhelming the singers, though volume was a concern in a couple of places (at the start of “Day by Day,” for example, and in the top-of-Act-Two reprise of “Learn Your Lessons Well").
But the fun soon resumes. As John the Skater-Kid Baptist, Mark Schurtz launched “Prepare Ye (the Way of the Lord)” with a thrilling a cappella solo; Nickerson’s direction amplified the intensity nicely. And this is the kind of production in which baptism involves squirt bottles, and the Last Supper, some baggies and a Thermos. So if religious practice too often seems to you like just a solemn duty, Godspell is the corrective: Loving Jesus can be a blast, man!
Happiness practically radiates off French, whose aw-shucks Jesus is capable of welcoming sinners with a hug, slapping them for their sins and then opening his arms wide to them yet again.
Both he and Nickerson handle the show’s tonal contrasts well. There can be jarring contrasts, after all, between the Sesame Street antics and Christ's rigorous theology: Cut off your hand, cast out your eyeball and ha-ha-ha. And somewhere around the parable of the sheep and goats or the story of the prodigal son, the comedy-sketch antics grew tiresome, as if Nickerson's cast were pushing too hard to deliver Theology Lite. But, in the parable of the sower, four groups of improvising cast members make the four-way metaphor visually graspable. With few lapses, the ten-person cast sang well, allowing joy to emerge from doubt.

“We can build a beautiful city,” Jesus sings, in a lyric imported here by Nickerson from the movie version, “—not a city of angels, but we can build a city of man.”
We can indeed build a better world, and Godspell makes the good news personal. Its emotional power — acknowledging loss and failure, but insistently pointing out the transcendent — hits you right in your spiritual guts.
That’s why lot of people who might otherwise not consider attending a show like this — from charismatics to disbelievers and all the Lutherans in between – ought to consider spending a couple of hours at the Civic. It’s better than any sermon you’ll hear on Sunday, and a lot more tuneful.


Godspell delivers its song-and-dance version of the Gospel According to Matthew through April 11 at the Civic's downstairs Studio Theater (just east of Spokane Arena) on Thursdays at 7:30 pm, Fridays-Saturdays at 8 pm, and Sundays at 2 pm. Tickets: $22; $11, student rush. Visit www.spokanecivictheatre.com or call 325-2507.

changes to Civic's 2009-10 season

The Fiddler got Pirated away. And it's Curtains for Chicago.

The Civic has announced changes to the first and third full-run slots in its next Main Stage season.

A touring version of Fiddler on the Roof will be coming through Spokane, so the Civic's season will now open (Sept. 25-Oct. 25) not with Fiddler but with Sullivan and Gilbert's The Pirates of Penzance, directed by Yvonne A.K. Johnson.
(Best of Broadway had no comment, saying that they'll announce THEIR season on April 16.)

The third long-run Main Stage slot (Jan. 15-Feb. 7, 2010) was going to be Kander and Ebb's Chicago, but now it's going to be another Kander and Ebb show, Curtains. (Think David Hyde Pierce investigating a murder in the middle of a musical production.) Troy Nickerson will direct.



Curtain Up reviews of *Curtains* from August 2006 and Feb. 2007 are here.

*Godspell* cast list

by Stephen Schwartz
directed by Troy Nickerson
musical direction by Becky Moonitz
at the Civic's Studio Theatre, March 20-April 11

with Robby French as Jesus, David Gigler as Judas, and Mark Schurtz as John the Baptist

There will be an ensemble of nine including Gigler and Schurtz along with Emily Bayne, Mike Hynes, Hannah Kimball, Manuela Peters, Mary Starkey, David Williams and Jillian Wylie.

And they'll all be joined by a quartet of Lei Broadstone, David McCarthy, Steve Porter and Amy Schoedel.

(photo: soundtrack of the 1973 film)

*Godspell* auditions, Feb. 2-4

at Spokane Civic Theater's Studio Theater
on Monday-Tuesday, Feb. 2-3, at 6:30 pm, with callbacks on Wednesday, Feb. 4
director: Troy Nickerson
musical direction by Becky Moonitz
5 men and 5 women; sing a verse and chorus from a contemporary musical and do cold readings
music and lyrics in*Godspell* by Stephen Schwartz

Performances: March 20-April 11

Can God be found on a New York City subway? Prepare ye the way of the Lord, day by day by day ... even if it takes you through the turnstiles at 59th and Columbus.

*A Christmas Carol: The Musical* -- Civic's cast list

*A Christmas Carol: The Musical*
Book by Lynn Ahrens and Mike Ockrent; lyrics by Lynn Ahrens; music by Alan Menken; based on the story by Charles Dickens
Directed by Troy NIckerson
Choreographed by Troy Nickerson and Cameron Lewis
Musical direction by Trudy Harris

at Spokane Civic Theatre, Nov. 21-Dec. 20
Tickets: $26; $24, seniors; $18, students
Visit www.SpokaneCivicTheatre.com or call 325-2507 or -2508.

with
Patrick McHenry-Krotech as Scrooge
Cody Garner as Bob Crachit
Danae Ervin as Mrs. Crachit
Kate Cubberly as Martha Crachit
Benjamin Worden as Tiny Tim
Quinn Klaue as Peter Crachit
Danille Martin as Belinda Crachit
Marshall Rochon as Tom Cratchi and Ebenezer (age 8)

Christmas Present/Sandwich Board: David Gigler
Christmas Past/Lamplighter: Heidi Gnos Kuban
Christmas Future/Old Hag: Ryan Patterson
Mrs. Mops: Evelyn Renshaw

Marley: Gavin Smith
Mr. Fezziwig: Gary Pierce
Mrs. Fezziwig: Melody Deatherage
Young Ebenezer (18): Jarod Mola
Young Ebenezer (12): Cade Martin
Fred: Mark Charyk
Emily: Jillian Wylie
Fan: Bailey Heppler
Jonathan: Peyton Cooley

... and a Chorus of 13

(photo: Alan Menken and Lynn Ahrens)

revisiting La Mancha

This is a very good show, and Bobo was wrong about it.
Not a perfect show, and Bobo still doesn't feel that ALL his criticisms were invalid. But the Civic's *Man of La Mancha* is a very good show.
Start with Patrick's performance: exceptional. Incredible. It was a real treat to see this show nearly four weeks after it opened, as opposed to on opening night. Like any show, it has grown and gotten better. I was struck by how well Patrick was _acting_ his way through "The Impossible Dream." He had the pipes when he needed them for the rousing finish, but before that, he was enacting the doubts and self-inspiration of the lyrics, making it a miniature drama all of its own. He's differentiating Cervantes/Quijana/Quixote even better than he was at first. It's a phenomenal performance. In the death scene, with Aldonza pleading with him and finally declaring herself to be, indeed, Dulcinea, I felt like I was watching one of the great moments in the history of Spokane Civic Theatre unfold.

I realized while watching last night was that much of the too-light tone I object to in this show has to do with Dale Wasserman's book of the musical and not Troy Nickerson's direction of it. Having said that, in my (one person's) opinion, Troy should have toned down the silliness considerably more, because some sequences cheapened what was often a profoundly moving show.
"I'm Only Thinking of Him" takes way too long to characterize the skeptic and his fiancee, the padre and the Housekeeper. As written, it's too long and cutesy. The slapstick "victory" by sheer luck of DQ and Sancho and Aldonza over the muleteers, as written, is silly.
Maybe it's a generational thing: What seemed like necessary "comic relief" in 1965 (a bogus theory: people can handle sadness just fine, and it's not as if every bit of bad news has to be carefully prepared for with a bit of I Love Lucy comedy)just comes off as condescending high jinks now.
"The Moorish Dance" (the gypsies): as written, a silly dance break that repeats what we already know, that DQ can idealize even the most venal and base aspects of human behavior. It's as if Wasserman didn't trust his audience. In terms of mood, I guess I just want more grand opera and less of music-hall comedy in my *La Mancha*s; it's just a matter of personal preference.

It's a matter of tone, and getting the tragicomic balance right is extremely difficult to do.
I felt that the Studio production of *Crimes of the Heart* overcompensated for past jokey productions by making this one too somber, missing too much of the comedy and really missing the black comedy (getting us to step outside anguished moments to realize that from another perspective, they're not heart-rending but absurd). A lot of people disagreed with me on that. Here, almost the reverse is true. Ideally, I would preferred to have seen Troy's direction minimized the slapstick, ha-ha aspects of the musical's book and favor instead, at more junctures, its darker, costs-of-idealism features. In a sense, I think Cervantes is trying to say that Dr. Carrasco-style realism and practicality has its own costs: unpoetic, unromantic, self-limiting, we're all just maggots crawling upon this muckheap of Earth (a viewpoint that Aldonza, of course, expresses and then repudiates -- because she GROWS). But similarly, as Wasserman's book goes overboard in emphasizing (because it's good for a joke), Quixote-style idealism is blind -- it selects what it wants to see. That's part of why Patrick's delivery of the "men have died in my arms" speech is so affecting and solid: it's the idealist declaring that his idealism is grounded in a gimlet-eyed view of how cruel and awful life can be.

But there's so much to admire in this show. I would listen to David Williams sing anywhere: his clear, sweet tenor voice as the Padre was quite affecting and effective in both the Act One closer, "To Each His Dulcinea" and in "The Psalm." I meant even back when I wrote my review to spend more time praising his talent.
The rape scene SEEMED to me (I'm probably wrong) to have added a couple of brief and more graphic moves; I thought it balanced moral ugliness + artistry very well. Patrick's pronoucement that the dishrag is "gossamer"; the timing of two of his and Tami's sudden face-to-face encounters; the way she clings to her missive and asks about the "quest" -- all were spine-tingling moments. In its first appearance, "Little Bird" seems to be motivated by ... what, exactly? It comes out of nowhere. BUT ... its reoccurence during the rape sequence is haunting. Troy created numerous memorable episodes like this.

I still think two or three of the performances were well short of ideal, and, as I said, I think the book is deficient in yukking it up too much. As for the Patrick > Robert Goulet line: I never saw Goulet in the part. But I associate him with phoniness and hamminess. Patrick never fell into that trap, and soared well above it. His performance, and most of this show, should be remembered with pride for years to come.

The Impossible Scream

"*Man of La Mancha* was BRILLIANT, and Bowen HATED it."
We figured he'd love it, and he didn't. He wrote The Impossible ... [scream]."

1. We tend (all of us, me included) to think in blacks and whites (extremes) like this. But my review (back on about May 24) wasn't entirely negative.
I even did a word count: As published in The Inlander, it had ...
230 words in sentences that were neutral or factual
340 words in sentences that were positive (praising)
350 negative
In other words, it was a mixed review, not a completely negative one.

2. Troy Nickerson is an exceptionally talented director, choreographer and actor. He's a Spokane theatrical treasure. We are lucky to have him. People like Troy and Michael Weaver and Nike Imoru (and I could name several others) are the kind of directors who make theater run in this city. I feel honored to know them. They inspire great affection in those who work with them.
(And Troy had better things to go than field phone calls about my stupid suicide "threat." I apologized to him then, and I apologize again now. I'm really sorry that I upset him and everyone else.)
But does that mean that Troy's directing choices can never be disagreed with? No.
(I haven't reread my review in the last two weeks. I'm going again tonight. Clearly, I'm in a minority in my opinion of the show. Too many actors whose opinions I respect have told me that they think very highly of this production.
I don't think I'm going to change MOST of my opinions about this show. But it seems like an opportunity not to be missed -- go see a show for a second time, and late in the run.)

3. One of the most perceptive comments in the flurry of anti-Bowen posts right after my La Mancha review suggested, all too briefly, that my insistence that the reality/illusion theme should be treated seriously in production is itself undermined by the fact that the prison inmates lead a dreary existence and are putting on a play to amuse and divert themselves.
I've seen this show twice (at Calif. community theaters, 20 years ago and more) and of course the movie.
This is (probably overall, certainly in many particular sections) the best of the four versions I've seen. Maybe I was too harsh on it. Anyway, I hadn't thought of that -- a critical blind spot, that the inset play is supposed to be funny ha-ha -- and so I'm eager to re-evaluate that aspect tonight. Not to mention Patrick's performance and Troy's staging and David's set and much, much else.

*Man of La Mancha*: opening-night review (delayed)

An idealistic old knight asks his lady for her trust and a token of her favor; the whore responds by spitting on his quest and tossing him a dishrag. This face-off between Don Quixote and Aldonza exemplifies the conflict between face-the-facts realism and imagine-it-otherwise idealism in Man of La Mancha (at Spokane Civic Theatre through June 15).
Ever the idealist, Quixote (Patrick McHenry-Kroetch) caresses the dirty towel and pronounces it “gossamer.” Those who chuckled — and there were many in the opening-night audience — were probably thinking along the lines of “deluded old fool.” But McHenry-Kroetch’s persuasive line reading conjures the power of the imagination. If we don’t keep striving to break free of the muckheap we’re stuck on, Quixote seems to ask, then what’s a life for?
And yes, he steps up and delivers on the famous anthem that everyone remembers. Somehow he manages to combine a powerful baritone with tottering movements in "The Impossible Dream," showing us Don Quixote's vulnerability and stoic endurance in the same moment. When the tempo dwindles as Quixote contemplates being “laid to my rest,” McHenry-Kroetch lingers in repose for a moment before rousing himself to continue: resolute striving embodied in the song’s action. Galloping through the title song and holding his love-longing tight in “Dulcinea,” his performance ranges — often in the space of just a few moments — from feeble to virile, from despondent to aspiring.
Director Troy Nickerson devises some effective sequences: two stylized horses that appear out of nowhere; the way that Quixote gazes longingly at his Dulcinea and pursues her across the stage during a crowd scene; later on, a stylized rape sequence that while not ugly enough, didn't shy away from ugliness and human corruption, either.
While musical director Gary Laing’s ensemble sounded thin in the overture, it propelled the self-assertion of “It is I, Don Quixote” and provided a nicely understated, guitar-strumming introduction for an “Impossible Dream” that soon after soared.
Scenic and lighting designer David Baker bathes his Spanish dungeon in golden light at some junctures, then plunges it into ominous darkness. And his menacing drop-down staircase underscores the scariness of the Spanish Inquisition.
Nickerson's production contains many fine moments — the realistic/idealistic confrontations between McHenry-Kroetch and Tami Knoell as Aldonza, full of tension; the ensemble's energy as the costumes fly out of the trunk and the play within a play gets produced inside the prison; the pathos of the final sequence (Quixote's "death" and "resurrection"); the creepy magic of the Knight of the Mirrors episode, in which Gavin Smith’s bossy realist compels Quixote to see himself, really see himself.
But the conflict of practicality and imagination, so striking in the holding up of the mirrors, seems underemphasized elsewhere: The Civic’s *La Mancha* approximates the ideal, but it’s also, at several junctures, earth-bound. For one thing, Dale Wasserman’s book of the musical is so episodic that it prolongs the evening unnecessarily. Sure, it’s possible to explain what the scene with the padre hearing confession from two women was all about. But can anyone explain how the show would be harmed if it were cut? Similarly, the second act’s gypsy fantasia has Quixote repeatedly seeing the bright side of tawdry circumstances — which we’ve seen him doing before, repeatedly. It’s filler.
Nickerson settles for a jokey approach (slapstick muleteers, that goofball Sancho) that instead of pitting idealism against humans the way they really are, poses a debate between idealism and humanity's exaggerated silliness. Take the “it’s a shaving basin”/”no, it’s a golden helmet” sequence. Here and in the earlier praising of the kitchen trollop Aldonza, Quixote’s exaggerations are received with a kind of forehead-smacking “How can he possibly see things this way?” attitude. But what’s needed instead is more in the way of how Aldonza, being repeatedly told that she isn’t worthless at all but worthwhile, gradually is converted to Quixote’s hopeful perspective. The Golden Helmet of Mambrino is both valuable and ridiculous, and Quixote’s imaginings need to be seen through both sets of lenses.
In the early going, Knoell didn't seem to be in strong voice; later on, she wasn't bitter enough in spitting at Quixote's quest and damning humankind for the crime of being born. In “I Really Like Him” and “A Little Gossip,” Gary Pierce fails to project melodies. Then he camps up Sancho Panza’s comic mannerisms so much that the sidekick seems planted on the side of the realists instead of ever coming over to his master’s idealistic point of view.

"Love not what thou art, but only what thou may become," says Don Quixote. Idealists get such a bum rap: Realists are always decrying them as impractical, when all practicality gets us is too much focus on all the things that keep us hemmed in. The tilter at windmills is like that inconvenient, bothersome voice inside all our heads that's always urging us to do better: Being quixotic can be obnoxious.
The Civic’s *Man of La Mancha* sounds and looks great. (They may have gotten a windfall of Renaissance costumes, but Susan Berger and Jan Wanless impressively built up all those slashed sleeves and floppy breeches.) In McHenry-Kroetch’s performance generally — and in the simple way Knoell renames herself, acceding to the old knight’s vision of Dulcinea — it creates some inspiring moments. A better production, however, would have demonstrated how gritty realism is merely jaded and self-limiting, and how idealism can become self-blinding. By playing up the impracticalities of Quixote's insistence on striving for a better life, Nickerson's show settles for humor when it could have contained a genuine debate.

La Mancha (very partial)

Yes, he steps up and delivers on the famous anthem that everyone remembers. Patrick McHenry-Kroetch's performance as the idealistic knight in Man of La Mancha (at the Civic through June 15) ranges from virile to feeble. Somehow in "The Impossible Dream," he manages to combine a powerful baritone with tottering movements, showing us Don Quixote's vulnerability and stoic endurance all in the same moment.
As exceptional as McHenry-Kroetch is, however, a number of factors contribute to make the Civic's production good but less than stellar. Some of it is Dale Wasserman's book, which is so episodic (especially in the first act) that most of the narrative momentum (and even coherence) is frittered away. Director Troy Nickerson settles for a jokey approach (slapstick muleteers, goofball Sancho Panza) that instead of pitting idealism against humans the way they really are, poses a debate between idealism and humanity's exaggerated silliness. In the early going as Aldonza, Tami Knoell didn't seem to be in strong voice; later on, she wasn't bitter enough in spitting at Quixote's quest and damning humankind for the crime of being born.
On the other hand, scenic and lighting designer David Baker bathes his Spanish dungeon in golden light at some junctures and has provided a menacing drop-down staircase. Nickerson directs some effective sequences: two stylized horses that appear out of nowhere; the way that Quixote gazes longingly at his Dulcinea and pursues her across the stage during a crowd scene; later on, a stylized rape sequence that while not ugly enough, didn't shy away from ugliness and human corruption, either.

"Love not what thou art, but only what thou may become," says Don Quixote. Idealists get such a bum rap: Realists are always decrying them as impractical, when all practicality gets us is too much focus on all the things that keep us hemmed in.
The tilter at windmills is like that inconvenient, bothersome voice inside all our heads that's always urging us to do better: being quixotic can be obnoxious. Nickerson's production contains many fine moments -- the realistic/idealistic faceoffs between McHenry-Kroetch and Knoell, full of tension; the ensemble's energy as the costumes fly out of the trunk and the play within a play gets produced (not too much, but not in too Spartan a fashion, either) inside the prison; the pathos of the final sequence (Quixote's "death" and "resurrection"). A better production, however, would demonstrate how gritty realism is merely jaded and self-limiting, and how idealism can become self-blinding. By playing up the impractialities of Quixote's insistence on striving for a better life, Nickerson's show settles for humor when it could have expressed a genuine debate.

(partial, draft review)

*Man of La Mancha* cast list

May 16-June 15 at Spokane Civic Theatre
directed and choreographed by Troy Nickerson
musical direction by Gary Laing

by Dale Wasserman, Mitch Lee and Joe Darion

Patrick McHenry-Kroetch as Don Quixote
Gary Pierce as Sancho Panza
Tami Knoell as Aldonza
David Gigler as Governor/Innkeeper
Gavin Smith as Duke/Dr. Carrasco
Hannah Kimball as Alonso's niece, Antonia
Heather Lee as Alonso's housekeeper
David Williams as the Padre
Benjamin Lee as the Barber
with Justin Gray, David McCarthy, Daniel McKeever, Steve Porter, Justin Roney, Amanda Rood, Mandy Shumski, Kristin Wilkinson