Archive for July, 2008

Press & Chronicle Reviews for The War of the Roses

Posted in reviews with tags , , , , on July 10, 2008 by ladamesansregrets

Two very different reviews for Nova’s current production of Shakespeare’s War of the Roses… The consensus: Ambitious, fearless, enterprising, innovative, and fun are the words Houston critics are using to describe Nova’s latest escapade!

Read both and share your thoughts with us!

Press Review:

Nova Arts Project’s ambitious War of the Roses actually works

Elizabethan Cabaret

By D.L. Groover

Published on July 10, 2008

Where:Barnevelder Movement/Arts Complex, 2201 Preston, 713-623-4033.

Details:Through July 19. $10-$15.

Group A (Thursdays and Saturdays) includes Richard II, Henry IV Part 1, Henry IV Part 2 and Henry V. Group B (Fridays and Saturdays) includes Henry VI Part 1, Henry VI Part 2, Henry VI Part 3 and Richard III. That’s a library full of English history to plow through. Any one of these complex dramas is complicated enough, with murderous fathers, sons, uncles, brothers, wives and cousins all conspiring for top dog. That the enterprise works at all is some sort of theatrical miracle.

Think of Nova’s cycle as Elizabethan cabaret. The eight directors have conjured a little bit of everything and something for everyone. Yes, it’s uneven, and a pair of editing shears should be employed, but the evening holds together. That, of course, has a lot to do with Shakespeare. No matter how you slice and dice him, the Bard remains supreme. Just to hear snippets is pleasure enough. How often have you seen any part of Henry VI?

The opener, Richard II, directed by Jennifer Decker and written by John Harvey, sets the template but is the bleakest. Dispirited and haunted, Richard II (Ryan Kelly) slumps on his black throne contemplating his cousin Bolingbroke’s fateful return from exile, which predestines the king’s doom. In the background, a series of photographs ironically mocks the worn-out king, while The Other Richard (Eddie Chevez) prophetically smashes vases containing the dynastic red rose (the House of Lancaster) and white rose (the House of York) with a croquet mallet. Kelly’s look and attitude is the perfect picture of absolute power corrupted from within.

“A Little More Mascara” from La Cage Aux Folles ushers in Henry IV Part 1. Director Sara Patterson spins her tale with cheeky grunge as the “Bolingbroke Beauties” put on a show. Swishy Henry (Jon Harvey) wears a tiny tiara, pearl earrings and a Mummer’s peacock headpiece as he rails against the opposition and his unprincely, wayward son Hal (Eddie Chevez), who’s enthralled by the drunken wastrel Falstaff (Justin Dunsford, so lusty and lewd he must have stepped right off the Globe stage). Hal pulls up his spandex bodice as Hotspur (Bobby Haworth), Northumberland (Sean Patrick Judge) and Worcester (Miranda Herbert) prance around backstage, waiting for their chance to strike. As in Carrie, a bucket of slo-mo blood douses the fairy king, but the rebellious villains are dutifully dispatched.

Director Antonio Aguires III captures his vision of Henry IV Part 2 on film in what can only be described as soft gay porn. What this boy-beds-boy tale has to do with any part of Henry IV is beyond me, unless it’s Aguires’s weird take on Hal (Bobby Haworth) and Falstaff’s (Michael Dunsworth) friendship and whoring. Not even Shakespeare suggested such a sexual pairing, but the bedsheets rumple artistically, lines of coke disappear up noses and there are lots of time-lapse shots of flowers opening. As flames lick across the screen, the movie bleeds into live action with some uncomfortably explicit, fiery violence, which might suggest the rebel leaders are treacherously executed by Prince John. Who knows? You can’t tell the players without a program, so this is anyone’s call.

Henry VI Part 3, directed by Philip Hayes, is anchored by Sean Patrick Judge’s knockout comic performance as Margaret, the great she-wolf of France. It’s the most consistent piece in the cycle and plain laugh-out-loud funny. In beret and greasy limp wig, a Gauloises hanging damply from his mouth, Judge vamps it up gloriously. When Margaret has York in her power, she taunts him and waves her cigarette like Cruella de Vil: “I’ll kill you with secondhand smoke.” Then there’s the Lady Grey blowup doll and Henry (Brittny Bush) in exile inside a cardboard box, serenaded by a herd of sock-puppet sheep. It’s so delightfully silly — Shakespeare would applaud.

Although Richard III is played for laughs with its “R” bling jewelry and Saturday Night Fever poses, Judge as Shakespeare’s first complex villain is most serious indeed. Oh, Richard can boogie down with his fine Chicas (Elissa Levitt and Brittny Bush) and woo a distraught Anne (Miranda Herbert) until she’s putty in his hot hands, but he leaves a long line of corpses. He gels his hair, kohls his eyes and reddens his lips, but don’t be fooled by the vanity — he’ll stab you with his eyebrow pencil. Abetted by director Amy Hopper, Judge gives a full-bodied performance — it’s chilling, precise and cuts to the bone.

Houston Chronicle Review:

Eight Shakespeare plays in one day, really

You’ll never believe what I did on Saturday.

Eight (count ‘em!) Shakespeare history plays, all in one day:

Richard II; Henry IV, Parts 1 and 2; Henry V; Henry VI, Parts 1, 2 and 3; and Richard III.

No, I wasn’t visiting the Royal Shakespeare Company. Even the RSC would be hard-pressed to fit eight plays into a single day.

Yet the feat is being achieved by Nova Arts Project, one of Houston’s youngest and most enterprising alternative troupes, with its current War of the Roses Cycle.

Perhaps one should say ….achieved in a fashion.”

In truth, Nova Arts is not presenting full-length versions but a half-hour digest of each play, with eight directors given free rein to devise whatever take on the material he or she desires.

Nova Arts directors Clinton and Amy Hopper figured that, since the plays tell the ongoing story of the struggle for the English crown in the 15th century, why not combine them in a single project? Because doing the eight in their entirety would prove too unwieldy, the project offers abridged versions arranged in two programs.

Group A (the first four plays) and Group B (the remaining ones) can be seen on successive evenings or in a matinee/evening marathon on Saturdays.

Nova Arts did something similar with its 2006 Oedipus3, combining abridged versions of Sophocles’ three Oedipus tragedies, as a single program – with interesting and sometimes potent results.

Yet in this case, while giving credit for the ambitious nature of the project, it must be reported that the company’s reach has far exceeded its grasp.

Allowing each director to do his own thing may be great for the group’s creative freedom, but it doesn’t serve Shakespeare or the audience’s need for a coherent, dramatically effective take on this far-flung material. With no continuity between the sections, the plays remain uninvolving.

Even those who arrive with a knowledge of the plays (all but Henry V and Richard III being among the Bard’s least familiar works) will have a tough time figuring out what’s happening in some stretches.

A couple of the plays are treated in straightforward fashion, extensively trimmed but true to the originals. Others are mangled in such extreme styles as to become unrecognizable; they might be exercises in an ….Interpreting Shakespeare” workshop. Still others are turned into outright travesties in a ….Look, we’re being cute with Shakespeare!” approach that comes off amateurish, precious and self-indulgent – the kind of thing best appreciated by friends and associates of the participants.

Director Jennifer Decker’s take on Richard II reveals the scruffy, actors’ workshop approach: four players in street clothes (but wearing crowns), with an everyday delivery of the lines. Sardonically captioned slides back the action.

Director Sara Patterson gives the first of the wacky treatments to Henry IV, Part 1 – as a drag show, with the guys in dresses and wigs and everyone camping it up to the max. At least that explains why the opening music is A Little More Mascara from the Jerry Herman musical La Cage Aux Folles. (First Hello, Dolly! tunes in Wall-E and now a La Cage number in a Shakespearean cycle – do I hear a trend?)

Antonio Aguries III offers Henry IV, Part 2 as a short film, replete with a nicely done (if clichéd) title sequence set against time-lapse photography of flowers blooming. Most of the film’s action shows characters club-hopping, drugging and hooking up. It’s certainly a free interpretation, capped by the one live-action sequence, a dialogue-free orgy of torture and executions.

In the closing play of Group A, Rob Kimbro’s capsule Henry V, we get a faithful rendition. The staging is simple, and the five black-clad actors speak the lines capably. Miranda Herbert (as the Chorus) and Sean Patrick Judge (title role) do the best work of the cycle here.

Group B lapses back into goofiness with Melissa Davis’ take on Henry VI, Part 1. The battles are enacted as a football game, with an onstage scoreboard heralding ….The Blokes” vs. ….Ze French” and Elissa Levitt playing Joan of Arc as an American Gladiator contestant.

Rob Shimko’s staging of Henry VI, Part 2 tries to reinstate a relatively straightforward and sincere approach. But the impact remains haphazard, most often achieved by having actors yell key lines.

Wackiness again prevails with Philip Hayes’ take on Henry VI, Part 3. Conflicts are represented by characters throwing stuffed animals or decapitating them. Many figures adopt Li’l Abner-type dialect, while others seem to have wandered in from South Park. Typical bit: A just-slain character, being dragged offstage by his heels, turns to the audience to wave ….bye-bye.”

Amy Hopper’s direction of Richard III seems set to close the cycle on a serious note, as Judge darkly launches into the famous ….winter of our discontent” speech. Then he begins putting on eyeliner, as if preparing to play the master of ceremonies in Cabaret. You know things have veered off course when Judge is reduced to playing Richard by striking Saturday Night Fever poses and Bobby Haworth’s Henry VII delivers his big speech in the voice of a Southern-fried televangelist.

Somewhere in this historical hodgepodge are embedded a few effective moments. But be forewarned. It takes heaps of patience to reach them.

everett.evans@chron.com

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Houston Press Review: “Loving Love Loves a Pornographer”

Posted in reviews with tags , , , , on July 10, 2008 by ladamesansregrets

Thanks, DL!!!

Loving Love Loves a Pornographer
Nova Arts Project surprises with a wicked Victorian comedy-of-manners parody

By D.L. Groover
Published: April 17, 2008

Barnevelder Movement/Arts Complex
2201 Preston, 713-623-4033

Details:
Through April 26. $15-$30.

It takes a few minutes to become acclimated to Nova Arts Project’s immaculate staging of Love Loves a Pornographer, Jeff Goode’s wicked parody of a late Victorian comedy of manners. This isn’t because the satire is odd and edgy — it’s downright classical, if truth be told — but because we don’t expect something quite like this from the avant-garde troupe, certainly not after its surreal tempOdyssey, wacky, CSI: Denmark-inspired Hamlet or crazy-quilt Oedipus3. Goode’s beguiling sex comedy begins with an obsequious butler, a fine old English country house and fine English landed gentry, who seem to have crash-landed from an unknown play by Pinero, Shaw and, most assuredly, Wilde. Epigrams, waistcoats, dueling pistols — this is not typical Nova territory. But once we shake our head clear of expectations, allow the radiant cast to work its definite magic and relax into Goode’s extremely funny play, we’re bathed in first-class entertainment all the way. Love is the cleverest play on either side of the bayou this month.

A prolific playwright, Goode has unbridled humor, an ink-blot view of the world and an absolute love of words — qualities that serve him perfectly in Love, his loving, anachronistic tribute to, and parody of, Oscar Wilde. It’s difficult to spoof Wilde, since his arch style pricked his own society and class. Of course, Wilde’s shallowness and pretense hid great depth, but he wasn’t about to say so. Goode takes Wilde’s basic tenets — superficial characters, witty dialogue, mistaken/misplaced identities, sublimated sex, tony language – and flicks them with his own brand of body English. Love never falters or loses momentum, it just moves faster and more furiously, making the plot funnier as it becomes more convoluted and improbable. This is a neat trick for any writer, and Goode pulls it off brilliantly. Wilde is definitely smiling.

Love is no slavish imitator, though, and pulls some neat tricks all its own. Fennimore, the Butler, sits offstage at a table loaded with props and reads a newspaper when not “on.” Daughter Emily wears proper Victorian garb, yet sports sneakers and striped socks. Earl, Emily’s American fiancé, wears 21st-century casual. A child’s crayon drawing is talked about as if it were a Gainsborough, and Fennimore uses a TV clicker to announce the act titles. These delectable postmodern deconstructions cheekily add to the fun. The play almost pops in 3-D.

Any detailed description threatens to deflate this finely crafted confection by revealing its numerous twists and surprises, but here are some basics — believe it or not, they’re interconnected. Lord Cyril Loveworthy (Seán Patrick Judge) supplements his income by writing pornography under a pseudonym. His nemesis, Reverend Miles Monger (Timothy Evers), the influential literary critic of the Times of London and a sanctimonious prig, might be on intimate terms with Lady Lillian, Cyril’s wife (Jenni Rebecca Stephenson). Out of jealousy, might Cyril be dallying with Millicent, Monger’s lovely but frustrated wife (Melissa Davis)? Daughter Emily (Katrina Ellsworth) has returned from travels in America not with a genuine earl, as was expected, but with Earl (Bobby Haworth), a questionable mountain man who sells unsavory literature in Flagstaff, Arizona. Mrs. Monger may have committed suicide in the garden, but the guests spend time arguing over who has the proper social standing to investigate. Fennimore (Wayne Barnhill) is chastised for swooning when he should leave that to his betters.

Of course, in plays like this, no one is ever who they seem, and reversals and surprises are a matter of course. Goode keeps us guessing — and listening. Timed to perfection, the words, barbed and dangerous, or flighty and shallow as the clueless characters spouting them, swirl like clouds. Love is intricately structured to allow the witty Wilde-like throwaways their deserved position front and center, such as Lady Lillian’s wonderful “No married woman should be left alone with a firearm. The temptation is simply too great.” Or Monger’s: “Money should never be earned, when it can be inherited.”

Under Rob Kimbro’s faceted direction, the cast of seven is a dream. Judge is particularly effective in relaying Lord Loveworthy’s commanding tone and haughty sense of entitlement. But it is Evers, as the smug Monger, who steals the show with his marvelously twitchy performance. Encased in costumer Kiza Moore’s straitlaced greatcoat, with hair combed straight down, glasses nailed to the very tip of his nose, and those long bony fingers constantly on the prowl over his watch chain, he’s a George Cruikshank illustration come to life. Self-righteous and proud of it, his dirty little secret drives the play, and Evers takes the wheel with glee.

Amazingly smart and very funny, Love Loves a Pornographer has class, style and wit. The comedy, whose world premiere was only five months ago, proves that new, fresh theater doesn’t have to be dumbed down to work like gangbusters. It just has to be good — or better, Goode.

Houston Chronicle: Ingenious wordplay drives Pornographer

Posted in reviews with tags , , , on July 10, 2008 by ladamesansregrets

Ingenious wordplay drives Pornographer

Copyright 2008 Houston Chronicle

By EVERETT EVANS

Sometimes you can pinpoint the exact moment when a play irrevocably pulls you into its corner. With Jeff Goode’s Love Loves a Pornographer, getting a nifty Houston premiere courtesy of Nova Arts Project, it’s this inspired bit of verbal lunacy:

“Your latest creation elicits illicit elations.”

Goode’s playful homage to drawing room comedy has already rhapsodized about “savage enravagements” and tossed off wry epigrams such as “A man should take pride in his livelihood, however shameful.” Not to mention the priggish antagonist who, described as “rakish,” defends himself with this choice retort: “In my entire life, I have never been rakish with so much as a leaf-strewn lawn.”

Yet for me, it was that “illicit elations” line that put the play over the top. Despite a few lulls here and there and a sense of winding down near the close, Pornographer can be recommended for the sheer merriment of its ingenious wordplay and the fun this cast generates delivering it. It’s the heightened language that’s supposed to sound like stage talk, not everyday talk.

Premiered in December by Los Angeles’ Circle X Theatre Company, Pornographer starts out as a tribute to, or spoof of, Victorian drawing room comedy as epitomized by Oscar Wilde. Yet midway, it acquires a more modernist bent — as if a play by John Guare or Christopher Durang or Paul Rudnick had wandered in and mingled with the earlier model.

Famed novelist Lord Cyril Loveworthy and his wife, Lady Lillian, entertain the Rev. Miles Monger, who also happens to be the Times of London’s lead literary critic, and his wife, Millicent. Lord Loveworthy, whose writing is respected but not sufficiently lucrative, tries to blackmail Rev. Monger into a favorable review of his next book. Lord Loveworthy needs the boost so that he can finance the wedding of his daughter, Emily.

Emily arrives with the man she plans to marry — not “an earl” as her parents had misunderstood, but Earl, a scruffy bookseller Emily met in Flagstaff, Arizona. While the other characters are steadfastly British and Victorian in speech and attire, Earl is thoroughly contemporary and American. Before long, other anachronisms creep into the scene. One character leafs through an issue of Vanity Fair. Another sips not from a teacup but a can of soft drink.

The thunderbolt is the revelation that Earl’s bookstore specializes in erotica. “Earl is a pornographer” Emily announces, the punchline just before intermission (at which the butler faints dead away.) The second half is (as the butler announces) “a series of shocking revelations.” All pertain to which of the other characters are secret readers of the star author whose work Earl sells, or have secretly written those books, or even secretly inspired the whole series through real-life experiences recounted in a diary.

Was every Victorian a secret hedonist? As one character observes, “You make this licentiousness sound almost medicinal.”

An exercise in theatrical style, Pornographer marks a change of pace for the young Nova Arts group. Director Rob Kimbro generally keeps things crisp, brisk and light of touch. Apart from a few hesitant moments (and remember, many of these lines are a mouthful), this team gives the play a capable rendition.

Sean Patrick Judge makes Lord Loveworthy sly, condescending and morally slippery. Given many of the script’s most potentially tongue-tangling lines, he handles them with authority. Timothy Evers makes an amusing foil as the stuffy, stodgy Miles Monger — prim, prudish and sourly disapproving.s

Jenni Rebecca Stephenson brings haughty confidence to Lady Loveworthy. Melissa N. Davis’ Millicent Monger is particularly appealing, indefatigably cheery with an unabashedly saucy streak.

Bobby Haworth’s laid-back Earl Kant seems to have wandered in from another play, continent and century, which is exactly the point. Katrina Ellsworth shows daughter Emily’s increasing iconclasm and rebelliousness.

As the butler, Wayne Barnhill, formerly of Infernal Bridegroom, has a droll way of being unflappably obliging to his “betters” yet at the same time mocking them.

You might say that while Love Loves a Pornographer is not quite Wilde, it’s certainly very Goode.

LOVE LOVES A PORNOGRAPHER

• When: 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, through April 26
• Where: Nova Arts Project, at Barnevelder Movement/Arts Complex, 2201 Preston

• Tickets: $15-$30; 713-623-4033

http://www.novaartsproject.com/