Mel Donaldson stars in actor/writer Levy Lee Simon's wickedly funny comedy about a dashing African American preacher who stutters.
A stuttering and womanizing preacher
The Stuttering Preacher. Actor/writer Levy Lee Simon's wickedly funny comedy about an African American preacher who stutters and interprets the Lord's word in his own womanizing way is raw and classy all at once.
$30. 2 and 8 p.m. today at New Freedom Theatre, 1346 N. Broad St.
$15. 9:30 p.m. next Wednesday; 7 p.m. next Thursday at the Painted Bride, 230 Vine St.
This production of the 80-minute one-act at New Freedom Theatre boasts the carefully plotted characterizations and solid direction it takes to bring off that paradox - it exudes charm with a nasty edge.
Director Johnnie Hobbs Jr. directs The Stuttering Preacher like a fine piece of jazz; it twists and turns but keeps recalling the theme that caught you in the first place. Here, that involves being single, female, and black - and world-weary about men, at least as a defense mechanism.
At Wednesday's opening, Deborah Billups played Efay, the woman who was alternately charmed and repulsed by the preacher. She is a dynamo in the role and is able to express every frustration and delight of a woman entranced by men and repulsed by manly hubris. (She alternates in the role with Meryl Lynn Brown.) Mel Donaldson makes his dashing preacher equally at home spouting Bible and barnyard bawd.
- Howard Shapiro
$30. 2 and 8 p.m. today at New Freedom Theatre, 1346 N. Broad St.
Gold. Each year, Fringe audiences and critics have unearthed gems of genius performances. In 1998 I stumbled across a brilliant dancer/choreographer, Dean Moss. So when I was mining for Fringe dance concerts to cover and heard Keila Cordova worked with Moss, I checked around and heard that her work last year was quite good. If that was so, something must have happened in the year since. Because the dances, concepts, dancers, and vocals presented Wednesday night at the Painted Bride were among the worst, most unprofessional I have seen yet.
Happy Inside, with its unintentionally hilarious and excruciatingly sung lyrics (written by the cast - "Tuesday night is pizza night," for one), and Meteorologica, a hapless solo performed by Kate Abernathey (also a group effort with the dancers), opened this dreadful evening.
Cordova, listed as the director/choreographer/writer of Gold, proved not to have the Midas touch with this gruesomely sappy and haphazard mishmash of weird songs and dances that (gag me) seemed to never end. The choreography consisted mostly of the girls exiting the stage on their behinds, leg over leg like seals, with interludes of tap-dance that was more heifer than hoofer.
- Merilyn Jackson
$15. 9:30 p.m. next Wednesday; 7 p.m. next Thursday at the Painted Bride, 230 Vine St.
