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Monday, May 21, 2012

By Wendy Rosenfield
FOR THE INQUIRER
Playwright Mac Rogers wants you to let him entertain you, and New City Stage Company’s world premiere of his spy thriller, Asymmetric, offers the kind of entertainment that’s usually enjoyed while lounging on the sofa, holding a remote. A quick-hit 80 minutes, this drama takes us from a back-room interrogation at the CIA to a techno-driven chase through Reykjavik, Iceland, sending us into the night to play Rashomon and figure out who knew what, when.
Want romance with that adventure? Rogers provides a pair of ex-spouses, Josh (Kevin Bergen), and Sunny (Kim Carson). He’s a disgraced ex-agent called in to get answers from her, both ex-wife and former protégé, accused of selling state secrets. Want violence? Meet Ford (Eric Rolland), a sadistic government inquisitor who specializes in finger-removal via hedge clipper. Comedy? Here’s Zack (Ross Beschler), a bumbling agent with the heart, comb-over and mustache of a born middle manager.
Care to plumb the motivations that lead a person to lose him or herself in this sort of personal and professional labyrinth? Look elsewhere. This is a playwright who once said he doesn’t like “sitting through something like Long Day’s Journey Into Night,” though he really wishes he did. 
Thus, Rogers’ characters spring fully formed from his head and into government service. For all their quippy dialogue — upon seeing Josh, Ford sneers, “Nice to see you, Josh. Gives me that peaceful August 2001 feeling” — they have no background, no family. While there’s more than enough circumstantial exposition, there’s no mention of the external tethers that connect them to real life. Even double agents and CIA sadists come from somewhere.
Carson’s Sunny, handcuffed and bleeding, but always taut, fares better under these circumstances; Bergen’s Josh seems adrift. Director Russ Widdall no doubt has his reasons for leaving Josh soft and amorphous, some of which probably have to do with plot twists I won’t discuss here, but nonetheless, Bergen just doesn’t project the sly intelligence or propulsion of a character described as being “on Thursday while the rest of us are on Tuesday.” 
Bloody escapism is nothing new onstage, and this thrill-kill variety shares a noble lineage, stretching from McDonagh to Shakespeare and beyond. But Rogers’ hermetically developed characters don’t earn it. On TV, you can wait for the next episode to explain special agent Sunny’s attraction to a man like Josh. Onstage, you get your 80 minutes — go ahead, take 90 if you need to — and if you want your audience to go home and puzzle over what happened, you’d better give them a reason to care.

By Wendy Rosenfield

FOR THE INQUIRER

Posted by Wendy Rosenfield @ 3:07 PM  Permalink | 3 comments
Friday, May 18, 2012
By Merilyn Jackson FOR THE INQUIRER You could sum up the work of the genius stagecrafter and choreographer Moses Pendleton by saying he exceeds the influence of such peers as Alwin Nikolais, Elizabeth Streb, Mummenschanz, and Pilobolus, the now-41-year-old company he cofounded, then left in 1983 to form MOMIX. His inventiveness and artistry far surpass the popular Cirque du Soleil. A Dance Celebration favorite, MOMIX opened at the Annenberg Center on Thursday night to a nearly full house with its show “reMIX.” Instead of one of his evening-length works, Pendleton offered an exotic caravan of pieces — some new, some familiar — that drew oohs, aahs, and scatterings of applause throughout. I’d love to be able to see into Pendleton’s dreams just one night, but dreams alone don’t make theater like this. It needs imagination, an understanding of the laws of physics — inertia, centrifugal force, gravity, weight, velocity — and the grit to work out the precision timing that keeps his dancers safe, all of which someone like Streb employs with ease. But like Nikolais, Pendleton brings beauty, mystery, emotion, and uproarious fun to the table, too. In his and Karl Baumann’s piece TableTalk, Steven Marshall, a phenomenal gymnastic dancer who performed in many of the works, splays his arms out and, with head below the rim of the table, draws us in with a powerful rippling of his shoulder muscles. He proceeds through every possible permutation of stance until finally he twirls the table on his back and carries it off. In Tuu, with Rebecca Rasmussen, he holds and lifts her, with every press of the feet, lean of the body, fall, timed to perfection. In Dream Catcher with Cara Seymour, he commands a giant elliptically designed gyroscope, which the two pivot and swing around on in dangerous-looking variations. Two dances by the company’s women endeared with sensuality and wit: In Marigolds, Phoebe Katzin’s fabulous orange frills enfolded the women and allowed them to shimmy the dresses down their bodies till they were rumba-like sheaths. Baths of Caracalla, by the same five women, now in white by Katzin, harked all the way back to Loie Fuller, with the women rippling their white skirts like bath towels, flags, or clouds. Sputnik and Pole Dance were magnificent spectacles, using poles for balancing, vaulting, and flying, that Philadelphia choreographer Brian Sanders had a hand in contriving. By the concert’s end the ethereal, Asian-inspired ambient sound and lounge music grew tedious — my only complaint — so it was a great relief in the last piece, If You Need Some Body, to hear Bach, which I normally hate for dance. It made a perfect foil for the ebullient silliness of the company of 10 partnered by floppy dummies that ended up flying joyfully from dancer to dancer. Additional performances 2 and 8 p.m. Saturday, 2 p.m. Sunday at the Annenberg Center, 3680 Walnut St. www.pennpresents.org.
Posted by Merilyn Jackson @ 9:41 PM  Permalink | Post a comment
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Leaders of stage companies met Wednesday at the Wilma Theater on Broad Street to consider the fate of the Barrymore Awards and get an update on the closing of the Greater Philadelphia Theatre Alliance, the umbrella group that provided services for them.

By Howard Shapiro

Posted by Howard Shapiro @ 12:05 PM  Permalink | 3 comments
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Flowers and cards were placed beneath a photo of Polina Kadiyska at the Rock School for Dance Education, before her death. Purple flowers are there now. (ROBERT MORAN / Staff)

I looked both ways three or four times Tuesday afternoon before I crossed Broad Street at Ellsworth, en route to the Rock School for Dance Education.

Posted by Ellen Dunkel @ 1:03 AM  Permalink | Post a comment
Friday, March 23, 2012

Fela! is in town for just three more days, with the Broadway musical starring either the equally good Sahr Ngaujah or Adesola Osakalumi making an exuberant noise at the Academy of Music for one show on Friday night and two each on Saturday and Sunday.


Posted by Dan Deluca @ 5:32 PM  Permalink | Post a comment
Thursday, March 15, 2012

Bruce Springsteen gave the keynote address at Austin's South by Southwest festival, in which we talks about his career and the history of pop music. It's one of the more endearing things we've ever seen. Bruce starts at about 5:00 in, and he uses some colorful language so be forewarned.


Posted by Molly Eichel @ 4:28 PM  Permalink | 2 comments
Monday, March 12, 2012

Actress Kim Delaney finally opened up to Entertainment Weekly about her appearance at September's ceremony for the Liberty Medal, an annual award given out by the Constitution Center.


Posted by Molly Eichel @ 12:37 PM  Permalink | 27 comments
Friday, March 9, 2012

By Ellen Dunkel
FOR THE INQUIRER

Posted by Ellen Dunkel @ 7:15 PM  Permalink | 1 comment
Thursday, March 8, 2012

By Wendy Rosenfield
FOR THE INQUIRER

Despite its backdrop of paved-over western mythology, Sam Shepard's Fool for Love is a rather intimate play for Iron Age Theatre. Though no strangers to Shepard's work -- they've produced The Tooth of Crime, Curse of the Starving Class, and Simpatico -- they're far more likely to take on work about labor issues, racism, or colonialism, and sometimes all at once.

But this, a bitterly comic drama that takes place in a motel room, with a fire-breathing love affair as its engine, is awfully close up for a company that favors the wide angle. With Shepard, the devil's in the details. It's Eddie, lassoing a metal chair and yanking it back with a smirk of juvenile satisfaction, or May, allowing her weary body to yield in Eddie's arms for just one brief, indulgent second before delivering a knee to his tarnished family jewels.

Posted by Wendy Rosenfield @ 6:39 PM  Permalink | Post a comment
Thursday, March 8, 2012

By Wendy Rosenfield
FOR THE INQUIRER

Quintessence Theatre Group's mission is to tangle with the classics, and this time, they tackle Jean Anouilh's wartime adaptation of Sophocles' Antigone. A response to Nazi occupation of France, the tragedy, as reimagined for a 20th-century audience, trades the wrath of the gods for existential dilemma, allowing man and woman to blunder about on their own, making terrible decisions for terrible reasons.

Antigone, you may recall, is the daughter of Oedipus and daughter/granddaughter of Jocasta, both dead. Antigone's uncle Creon claimed Thebes' throne in their wake, and her brothers, Eteocles and Polynices, killed each other on the battlefield. It's a bad scene, and doesn't get any better when Creon declares Polynices a traitor, refuses him a proper burial, and discovers Antigone burying him anyway. Anouilh's Creon is a bureaucrat, Antigone an impulsive kid with big ideas, and both confuse pride with sacrifice.

Posted by Wendy Rosenfield @ 6:31 PM  Permalink | Post a comment
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