Arts & Culture
Black Strobe
By Ally Berndt Norwegian death metal. Gothic French electro. ‘80s electronic body music. Something totally different. Any or all of the above can be ways used to describe Black Strobe. Burn Your Own Church – “Brenn Di Ega Kjerke” in Norwegian – is Black Strobe’s latest album, and while all 11 tracks reflect the group’s Depeche Mode and ‘80s rock influences, most also represent a darker, trance-like mood. The sound is good, but probably best appreciated if you’re hopped up at a Euro rave. “Blood Shot Eyes” is a quirky song that’s mixed well and puts the synthesizer to great use, yet sounds oddly reminiscent of the Super Mario Brothers theme if set against Norwegian metal. Included on the album is a cover of Bo Diddly’s “I’m a Man.” It’s bluesy but more hyped up – a little bit out there, but enjoyable nonetheless. And if Rammstein put together an ‘80s house mix, I’m pretty sure it would sound very much like “Not What I Need,” with its deep half-spoken lyrics in Euro-metal drag. The last two tracks – “Last Club on Earth” and “Crave for Speed” – are by far the best, featuring not only the strongest vocals, but also some great piano work. It’s a welcome switch from synth and showcases Black Strobe’s low-key side. Burn Your Own Church is a decent album with a lot of great production work; the mixes are actually the best part. There could’ve been a little more guitar and a little less of the often over-powering keyboards and synthesizers, but overall Black Strobe has put together a well-rounded record that pulls elements from many styles of music and then lays them over acid-infused beats. Americans should definitely check it out, if only for the fact that it’s just not your everyday electro mix. VS
Jun 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Waukesha’s new Majestic Cinema and Palladium dinner theater
Marcus Theaters took a calculated risk opening up the colossal Majestic Cinema (770 N. Springdale Road, Waukesha) over the May 4th weekend, not only as a move to bolster attendance in an era of home theaters with surround-sound and HD/Blue-Ray technology, but also in location and philosophy. Set not far off from the now-demolished Westown and now-defunct West Point theaters, the Majestic is seated on the farthest edge of an industrial complex off the back side of a Home Depot and Sam’s Club. But rather than stick with the familiar spartan, low-ceiling multiplexes that have become a recognizable mainstay for the Marcus corporation theaters in the past 25 years, this 16-screen affair – two of them ‘UltraScreens’ and another a dinner theater called the AT&T Palladium, which will be detailed further along – is a throwback to the art deco days of the cinema house. Starting from the outside, gone is the towering and lit signboard listing movies, in favor of reading the times off the internet, outside posters and electronic marquees over the ticket stations. Forgivably, because there was a rush to get it open for the premiere of Spider-Man 3, the Marcustheatres.com website did not have a working phone number until Friday. Even then, only one automated message worked. You also are not able to purchase show tickets online (as of this writing) as they work out the programming kinks. A giant neon-lined overhang (think: Vegas casino) guides those who want to keep their date dry while they park – or they can use the $3.00 valet service. For once, however, the parking area is well-conceived and the walk to the front door is not necessarily interminable. Once inside and past the long ticket lines, the main lobby opens up to a grand affair. Anyone who has ventured to the new Marcus Renaissance in Sturtevant will recognize the new standard architecture and interior design being adopted for the movie complexes. In the center of the room sits a baby grand piano surrounded by leather sofas and palm trees. The piano mysteriously waits for someone to play it, but it is unlikely the harried and tuxedo wearing employees have the time. On the left is a separate pizza bistro called Zaffiro’s and to the right a Stone Creek Coffee dominated by ice cream shop offerings. The concession stand runs almost the length of the room, illuminated from below by tanks of popcorn. Food offerings here run the gamut from traditional sweet and salty snacks to more complete fast-food offerings. While you wait in line, many flat-screen plasmas distract from the high food prices with previews of coming attractions. Got a kid in tow? The Majestic offers a party room for birthdays and, more importantly, a chamber off the lobby for babysitting services. However, on its first Saturday open the room was dark and empty save for a desk, a pair of handheld buzzers ready to call you back from the show if your kid has a tantrum and a […]
Jun 1st, 2007 by Brian Jacobson
Long Day’s Journey into Night
Humor can draw anyone into a theatre, but it’s the darkness that really excites the imagination. Eugene O’Neil’s Long Day’s Journey Into Night is one of the great classics of dark American theatre. Under the direction of Heidi Mueller Smith, Cornerstone Theatre Company presents the classic in the basement of the Brumder Mansion. As everyone settles into their seats for the evening, Ruth Williams and Sandy Stehling animate the space with a traditional Irish tune. Gradually, the play settles over the stage. There’s no mistaking that this is going to be a long, dark journey into the inner social dynamics of a particularly dark, iconic American family. Thankfully, with Cornerstone Theatre it’s a trip to the theatre featuring some of the best acting in one of the smallest performances spaces in greater Milwaukee. Cotter Smith stars as family patriarch James Tyrone – an aging actor past his prime who has made a small fortune for himself, but nonetheless tours during the theatre season. It’s August of 1912 and it would appear to have been a very long summer. Smartly dressed with sharp features and meticulously manicured facial hair, Smith cuts a darkly charismatic figure in the role. There’s a mixture of weariness and restlessness in the way Smith carries himself here. Smith’s apparent darkness as James is offset by Michelle Waide’s performance as his wife Mary. O’Neil places Mary as something of a central enigma in the script. Waide’s performance here is particularly clever. She seems to hold a great deal of casual poise, but we can tell that somewhere in the background of her apparent stability lies the hazy static of unhealthy disorder. She’s swept it all into the background of her personality, but it gradually comes to prominence as the play progresses. Waide deftly rides the emotional contours of O’Neil’s script, only letting enough emotional distress slip out to make it to the next scene. Ken T. Williams and Steven Strobel play James and Mary’s sons, Jamie and Edmund. Williams is pleasantly cynical as the older son who has returned home to help out around the house. Being fully aware and at least marginally open about all of the negativity floating around in the family’s closets, Jamie comes across as being one of the darker people in the play. Williams lends a considerable amount of depth and compassion to that darkness, which holds up his end of the play quite well. Edmund, the younger brother, is suffering from a potentially life-threatening ailment. Strobel plays Edmund with the overwhelming presence of a turn of the century slacker. His polite, unassuming presence makes it easy to sympathize with him. Rachel Williams rounds out the cast as Cathleen, the young, Irish housekeeper with a serviceable Irish accent. She plays off the rest of the family dynamic quite well as a disinterested third party. O’Neil has Cathleen surfacing from the rest of the family on brief occasions. On the whole, the ensemble plays out the emotional landscape of the play with more […]
Jun 1st, 2007 by Russ Bickerstaff
The Baker’s Wife
By Tracy Doyle Opening night of Windfall Theatre’s staging of The Baker’s Wife, I was warmly ushered into the intimate and awkward venue and the best of the remaining seating was pointed out to me. The space, which must double as a meeting room of some sort for the Village Church Arts, was perfectly suited for this cluttered musical fable, music and lyrics by Steven Schwartz and book by Joseph Stein. The play is set in a very small town, where everybody knows everybody and no one can stand anyone but themselves. The everyday grind is thrown off when the town’s sole baker dies and a replacement shows up along with his beautiful and much younger wife. A typical Schwartz musical, the songs are long and boring, never striving for anything other than ordinary and the plot follows suit. The show opened with the sound of a man shooting himself in the foot. The first lines of “Chanson” are in French and I really wish a dialect doctor had been called because I was in pain. (Ba dum ching) But seriously, since this show started at such a low point the only way it had to go was up and it did. The lead roles of the baker and the baker’s wife, played by Larry Birkett and Linda Steiber, were beautifully constructed and developed. Both possess outstanding singing and acting abilities, which in local musical productions is a rare treat. The baker, Aimable, who struggles with the knowledge that his wife will eventually leave him, captures a real innocence and love of life that is all the more poignant she finally does leave him. Genevieve leaves Aimable for the young and charismatic Dominique, charmingly played by Thomas Rosenthal, whose lack of musical genius is made up in energy and comic timing. Highlights of the show include a hysterical Freudian orgy of bread and song, in which long loaves of fresh bread baked by Milwaukee’s own Wild Flour Bakery are acrobatically tossed and gnawed and shared between townspeople. Musically, Genevieve’s touching “Meadowlark” stood out as an honest rendition of a woman’s struggle to figure out just what to do with her life, and reminded me of many a night singing to myself in the privacy of my own home. My favorite part of the whole night coincided with the appearance of Albus Rosenthal as Pompom, who is (SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT!) the very first real live cat I’ve ever seen on stage, something I’ve been waiting for my entire life. I make an open suggestion for a new byline, Windfall Theatre: Making dreams come true. Props to Windfall for a show full of energy and performances worthy of a much better script. VS Windfall Theatre’s Production of The Baker’s Wife runs now through May 19th at Village Church Arts. For more info, call 414-332-3963 or visit Windfall online at www.windfalltheatre.com.
May 8th, 2007 by Vital Archives
Colin Hay, May 3 @ The Miramar Theatre
By Erin Landry Dropping in at Bay View’s local watering hole, the Palomino, you might have had the pleasure to be served a drink by Colin Hay’s opening act Thursday night: the talented Davey von Bohlen (of Cap’n Jazz, Promise Ring and Vermont fame), a regal name he says that was given to him at birth, which after the first few songs you realize is in direct contrast to his humble disposition. Starting off a set with “songs that preamble” by his own admission, he covered material from his “younger days” as well as songs recorded by his current band, Maritime. His voice warbles then cracks at one point, he misses notes, he stops then starts when he forgets lyrics, he laughs and chides himself, all of which just add to the spontaneous feel of his music. The imperfections and mistakes, instead of being distracting, conveyed the creative process and created an intimate performance. It was less of a concert, more of an impromptu experimental venture, music in its most raw form. And, though no explanation was necessary, after a youthful chirp from his two-year-old at the back of the crowd, he confesses that instead of practicing before the show, he “slacked off” and took his son to the children’s museum. How can you not forgive that? During intermission, the ladies room titters with rumors that Colin Hay’s live performances include his wife who does interpretive dance. Back inside the theatre, the lights dim and a rousing backstage introduction, which sets the tone for the rest of the night, describes Colin as a multi-platinum performer who “believes football is played with a round ball, enjoys sunsets, walks on the beach, and ladies, if you’re wondering, he’s a cancer.” Let’s get this right out of the way; Colin Hay is so much more than a blip on the ‘80s pop icon MTV screen (Men at Work). Since that time he has assembled an enviable body of work that has been touted through television via “Scrubs” and film via the indie hit “Garden State.” He is an artist that withstands the changing times, providing a new body of work of evocative and bittersweet songs and contemplations on life. In any case, the night’s performance is less pop concert more all-inclusive variety show (in the best possible sense) with song, poetry, comedy, storytelling and, true to rumor, an array of vocals, kazoo playing and interpretive dance by his gorgeous wife, Cecilia. The first hour was a sprinkling of newer songs overshadowed mostly by Mr. Hay talking about youth, life lessons and other musings including an admission that, while he recently wrote a song about the infamous Bob Dylan (his opening song: What Would Bob Do?), he’s never actually met the man in person. But instead of working on an album or song with Dylan, he says how he’d prefer to work on a car together, talk about alternators and transmissions…or maybe walk around a Costco in search for toilet paper, all the while […]
May 7th, 2007 by Vital Archives
Aqualung, May 3 @ The Pabst
Photo by CJ Foeckler/Pabst Theater It’s difficult to write a music review these days without drawing an inevitable comparison to a predecessor or contemporary. The case in evidence: Matt Hales’ Aqualung, which took the stage Thursday night as part of the Milwaukee Pabst Theater’s fairly priced series of talented but mostly underground and underrated national acts. What’s important about mentioning this last part has to due with some intimacy issues in the venue, which will come up again later. Matt Hales appears to be in his early 20s, which is probably important in light of the recent new flood of Britpop artists who have given us boatloads of sensitive rock in the past few years. If we follow a family tree, then Blur begat Verve and Suede, who begat Oasis and Radiohead, who begat Coldplay and Travis, which gave us (and drawing the wannabe label) Aqualung…and Keane, James Blunt, Snow Patrol, the Feeling, and…well, just insert your own VH1 You Oughta Know find – where Hales got his first American-side break. But the 35-year-old piano rock singer/songwriter is a bit older than most on the tree, and did not find success until landing a successful tune for the new Volkswagen Beetle in 2002. It’s hard to quantify a sound when in the middle of it. When synthpop was at its height, did music fans say, “Oh, that Erasure. They’re just a Depeche Mode wannabe.” At the time, there was room for everybody. Shouldn’t it be fair to just claim Aqualung as an overall part of a new movement deeply entrenched in mood and angst? Hales does not make it easy. To sit back in the demure and refined darkness of the Pabst and enjoy his obvious and highly-trained musical talent, there has to be a suspension of disbelief. This would mean in musical terms that the audience member would forgive the lapse in organic flow and just be entertained. But just close your eyes as the four-piece band plays, and suddenly you’re listening to the sound of Ben Folds. Then in another song, Chris Martin. Then another, Damon Albarn. Another, Thom Yorke. The music eloquently meanders like this as you try and guess the influence, like a gourmand attempting to guess the subtle flavors as they emerge in a complex dish. When Aqualung launches into “Pressure Suit,” off his newest studio album Memory Man, suddenly you are hearing Jeff Tweedy and Wilco circa A Ghost is Born. Hales goes so far as to admit a personal infatuation with the band during one of his cheeky bantering with the audience. From there, Hales (now seated at a baby grand instead of standing up front at a Yamaha keyboard) and company attempt to cover Wilco’s “Muzzle of Bees.” “Attempt” is used as the operative word here since it seems like something the guys rehearsed on the tour bus ride into town. Also, the lowdown desperation of Tweedy’s version is missing and replaced with something more harmonious. To his credit, Hales voice often […]
May 4th, 2007 by Brian Jacobson
A little bit indie, a little bit classical
Photo by Lenny Gilmore They may have a cute name, cute merch and cute alternating boy/girl vocals, but the nine-month-old Kid, You’ll Move Mountains aren’t aiming to charm, though frontman Jim Hanke does admit the five-piece has had “great luck fall in [their] lap.” This luxury has allowed a somewhat lax approach to promotion and recording – but don’t think the band lacks a smidge of motivation or enthusiasm. “Our ages and personal situations require us to be pretty focused,” says drummer Nate Lanthrum, with a subtle air of experience. From 2001 to 2005, Lanthrum and his brother, bassist Andrew, toured six months a year with Chicago’s Troubled Hubble, as Hanke sang for El Oso across the northerly state line. Ultimately, it was Hubble’s showcase for Latest Flame Records in Hanke’s hometown of Milwaukee that crossed the musicians’ paths. After being “blown away” by their performance and “overall humility,” Hanke and Lanthrum’s bands formed a “family-like union,” booking and networking together throughout the Midwest. As both projects wound down from current to former, Hanke and the Lanthrums, still eager to “bring something new and creative to [their] respective local scenes,” appended guitarist Corey Wills and classically trained pianist Nina Jones – whose background contributes a more traditional perspective – to complete the group. “Nina is a phenomenal musician,” says Lanthrum, in awe of Jones’s comprehension of “notes and keys” instead of his more-familiar “deep, guttural sounds and sweeping arm gestures.” Nevertheless, he’s learning, and is convinced that with her dynamic, KYMM has “a whole new range of places to go.” In August of 2006, the band was in the downtown WMSE studio playing a set for the Local/Live program. “We weren’t sure that having a radio show as our documented first recording was the best idea, but the sound was perfect for what we were looking for,” Lanthrum says of the convenient, minimal production. Hanke adds, “It was a good opportunity to record our first six songs together for nothing.” Further boosting the grassroots appeal of the EP, a Polaroid photo taken the day of purchase satisfies both the need for album art and a “slightly different” execution. At live shows, the instant camera is omnipresent and fans can opt to be photographed for their own CD jacket. “The only downside,” says Hanke, is “when people refuse the picture because they think they look pudgy or they have red eye. We have a stack of those.” Clearly, photo discards should be incorporated into the packaging of KYMM’s upcoming glossy debut, which the band is currently in the process of home recording, somewhere between Milwaukee and Geneva, Illinois. “We definitely want to get an official record out there, but we are also anxious to take our time and tool around with different ideas and make the entire process a fun adventure,” says Hanke. In the meantime, Hanke intends to “play as many shows as possible” as Lanthrum scratches his itch to return to the road. KYMM has already opened for a […]
May 2nd, 2007 by Amber Herzog
Feist
Leslie Feist has all the makings of a classic indie girl – completely indecipherable, yet at the same time completely able to be pigeonholed. For one not familiar with Feist, the Canadian has some pretty ridiculous credits racked up: from the electro-shock value of Peaches to the pretty indie-pop of the Broken Social Scene (not to mention stints with By Divine Right and Kings of Convenience). She seems comfortable with and suited to each place she ventures. Her newest album, The Reminder, sees her travel right from writing in the tour bus and creating in the studio to finishing up a tour stint in Berlin and capping it off with a recording session with pals Mocky, [Chilly] Gonzales and Jaime Lidell in la Frette Studios outside of Paris. Feist’s previous releases, Let it Die and Open Season, made Canada and Europe take notice of her youthful but classic jazz vocals and guitar playing that lent a punchy yet wispy quality to her pop, half penned by her, half lent by others. This time around, Feist is writing more, collaborating with her recording pals Mocky and Gonzales as well as Ron Sexsmith. If Feist was arresting before doing other people’s songs, she is even more so singing her own. The lone cover song, “Sea Lion Woman,” was originally written by George Bass and made famous by Nina Simone. Feist revamps it by pairing light-stepping vocals with energetic and full handclaps. Feist also tries her hand at gospel, country-twinged pop in “Past in Present,” brooding piano dynamics in “My Moon My Man,” haunting ethereality in the chilling “The Water” and upbeat with “I Feel it All.” Versatility is the mark of a great songwriter, and Feist is writing with such fluidity on The Reminder that it will be interesting to see which direction Feist will travel next. VS
May 1st, 2007 by Erin Wolf
Lady Day
By Jill Gilmer It’s hard not to have a great evening at the Stackner Cabaret. The nightclub-style setting creates a relaxed and festive atmosphere and the well-heeled crowd doesn’t seem to mind sharing tables with strangers and chit-chatting over cocktails or coffee and dessert. Add to this backdrop the wonderful music of Billie Holiday performed by Grammy award-winning singer Regina Marie Williams and you have the recipe for a string of sell-out performances, which Lady Day has enjoyed since it opened on March 16. But theatre-goers hoping to learn more about the life and legacy of this jazz icon may leave the Cabaret disappointed. Like many theatrical productions that examine a celebrity figure, Lady Day focuses less on Ms. Holiday’s life and career and more on her personality. While this in itself is a worthy endeavor, director David Hunter Koch’s obsession with her surprising dark side nearly overshadows both her story and her talent. The story takes place at the Emerson Bar & Grill, a hole-in-the-wall jazz club in Philadelphia and the actual site of one of Holiday’s last performances before her death in 1959, at age 44. Emerson was, apparently, one of the few clubs in the U.S. where she was still welcomed. A series of temperamental incidents – most likely exacerbated by alcohol and heroin abuse – had tarnished her reputation and limited her performance venues. Regina Marie Williams delivers a riveting enactment of Ms. Holiday’s descent into a drunken trance over the course of her 1-hour and 15 minute performance. At least, we can only hope it was alcohol that fueled the seemingly-endless string of expletives that dotted her performance and the insults she hurled at her unsuspecting audience. This drunken rant was a stark contrast from the image of graciousness suggested by her strapless white satin gown, elbow-length gloves and trademark gardenia in her hair. Leaving the show, audience members who are unfamiliar with her contributions to jazz might even question whether the accolades history has bestowed on her are justified. These thoughts were sufficiently disturbing to send this writer surfing the in search of “the real Billie Holiday.” The artist I read about online seemed to bear little resemblance to the obnoxious faded starlet portrayed in Lady Day. The lack of balance in this portrayal of Ms. Holiday leaves an unwarranted black eye on this great artist. Despite her unbalanced portrait of Ms. Holiday, Regina Marie Williams does a superb job capturing the emotional intensity and famed uniqueness of Ms. Holiday’s voice, if not its exact tone quality. A highlight is a soul-stirring rendition of “Strange Fruit,” her classic song about Jim Crow-era lynchings. The song is a fitting conclusion to Ms. Holiday’s account of a racist incident she experienced while touring with Artie Shaw. That story reminds us of the difficult era (the 1930s, ‘40s and ‘50s) during which she succeeded in establishing herself as an African-American singer with a ground-breaking sound. The enormous obstacles she had to overcome are proof that this lady […]
May 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Simply the best
By Evan Solochek + Photos by Kat Jacobs and Gene Martin He is one of the recording industry’s true living legends; some call him the godfather of modern music. His name is as synonymous with rock & roll as Jimi Hendrix or Eric Clapton. What’s that? You say you’ve never heard of him? Well, take a closer look at that cursive signature on the headstock of that Gibson guitar your favorite musician is playing. That’s his. His name is Les Paul. Born Lester William Polfuss in 1915 in Waukesha, Wisconsin, Les Paul took to music at an early age, performing semi-professionally by the age of 13 and with Rube Tronson’s Cowboys by 17. Shortly thereafter, he moved to St. Louis, Missouri and joined the Wolverston’s Radio Band on KMOX. By the 1930s, Paul was in Chicago playing jazz on local radio stations, and in 1936 he released his first two records. However, despite this early success, Paul was generally disappointed with the musical equipment with which he had to work; he found the acoustic bodies of the ‘30s-era electric guitars to be too dampening for noisy clubs. So, Paul began experimenting, and after some initial success in 1935 with “The Log,” which was nothing more than a length of fence post with a bridge, neck and pickup attached, Paul perfected his design in 1941 and built one of the first solid-body electric guitars, a revolutionary design that made rock & roll’s signature sound possible. By the early ‘50s, Gibson Guitar Corporation had finally taken an interest and used some of Paul’s design suggestions to build a prototype that would come to be known the world over as the “Les Paul” model, immortalized by the likes of Jimmy Page, Jeff Beck, George Harrison, Bob Marley, Joe Perry, Slash and countless others. Today the Les Paul design remains virtually unchanged and one of the most popular guitar models around. While Paul also made many groundbreaking innovations in the area of multi-track recording, overdubbing and reverb, he is much more than an inventor. Widely considered the greatest jazz guitarist of his generation, over his 75 years in music and radio Paul has released over 10 albums, recorded and performed with the likes of Nat King Cole and Bing Crosby and was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1978, the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1988, the National Inventors Hall of Fame in 2005 and the National Broadcasters Hall of Fame in 2006. Also in 2006, at the age of 90, Paul won two Grammy Awards for his album Les Paul & Friends: American Made, World Played. Now 91, this musical visionary will return home to Waukesha on May 10 to play a concert at the Milwaukee Marriott West hotel (tickets are $1,500 for up-front Premier Tables of four or $300 for general admission) that will also include appetizers, dinner, a silent auction and an autograph session. While the concert will only be 45 minutes long, it will mark the […]
May 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Bright Eyes
Polarizing indie icon Conor Oberst lobs his first full-length studio album since 2005’s simultaneous releases I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning and Digital Ash in a Digital Urn. Cassadaga, Florida, renowned “Psychic Center of the World” and the “South’s Oldest Spiritualist Community,” is the CD’s namesake. Songs about self-cleansing, balancing out and finding home emphasize the spiritual theme. “Four Winds” – on loan from this spring’s eponymous EP – and the Janet Weiss-drummed “Hot Knives” come as close as Americana can get to head-banging and fist-pumping. “Middleman” flaunts Iron & Wine-worthy breaths of grainy fiddling and “I Must Belong Somewhere” alone embodies enough colorful imagery to defend Oberst’s visionary status. Tribal beats and vocals feel fresh on the atmospheric “Coat Check Dream Song.” “Make A Plan To Love Me” begins as an airy lullaby swirled with female a capella, but becomes so over-produced that it winds up leaning toward theatrical score. Though delivering memorable storytelling and big hooks, the majority of songs also surrender to the same excessive polishing. Gone is the raw zest and neighing naiveté that made Fevers and Mirrors such a powerful release. Oberst even sings “…was a hopeless romantic/now I’m just turning tricks,” a possible reference to fatiguing artistic expression. Is our precious Conor jading over, growing up and abandoning his wild ways? Cassadaga is an attempt to convince, but he’ll most likely still be spitting into microphones, stumbling over amplifiers and wrangling up girls with nice shoes on the album’s supporting tour. Just as he should be. VS
May 1st, 2007 by Amber Herzog
A Shot in the Dark
The Boulevard Ensemble closes its 21st anniversary season with a murder-mystery comedy by Harry Kurnitz, adapted from an original French work by Marecl Archard. It’s a fun, well-balanced comedy adeptly directed by the Boulevard’s Mark Bucher. Bucher has assembled a surprisingly good cast for the final show of a memorable 21st season of theatre in Bay View. I believe it was Alistair Cooke who said that a shot in the dark doesn’t take much time. Well, the Boulevard has certainly taken its time in getting to this one, ending its latest season with a production that feels deftly aimed. The talented Joe Fransee holds together the center of the play as Magistrate Paul Sevigne, who is investigating the death of a Spaniard (Cesar Gamino). The action of the play takes place in Sevigne’s office as he interviews people who might’ve been involved in the murder and is aided in this work by Morestan – his chief clerk played by the ample Al Dobyns. Fransee’s charisma goes a long way here, but it’s the timing between Fransee and Dobyns that really pulls together the center of the play. All of the usual mucking about with exposition that goes on in a mystery is made all the more palatable by the interaction of Fransee and Dobyns. In places, they almost seem to be fencing with the dialogue, which isn’t done enough in local theatre. Fransee has a tight, crisp precision to the delivery of his lines that woks well with Dobyns overall affability. The chief suspect in the murder of the Spaniard is his lover: parlor maid Yvette Lantenay, played by Anne Miller. Lantenay was found at the scene of the crime holding the gun that killed the victim just moments after his death. The Spaniard’s last words even implicated her as the murderer. In spite of all the evidence against her, it is clear that Lantenay did not commit the crime and a good portion of the play rests on the audience’s acceptance of this. We must not think for a second that Lantenay is the murderer; otherwise all of Sevigne’s work to find the true murderer would seem remarkably tedious. Here, the casting of Anne Miller is crucial. To her credit, Miller has a sweet, innocent stage presence; it would be very difficult to imagine Miller as a killer. This is staggeringly important, as the same could not be said of every actress in town. Bucher’s choice in casting Miller does wonders for the production. Other notable performances here include Liz Mistelle as Sevigne’s beautiful wife and Jennifer LaPorte as a wealthy lady of high society. The decision to split the play’s three acts with two intermissions would seem a bit indulgent, but so much of the play relies on plot points revealed solely in the dialogue that two intermissions are welcome. Each intermission allows the audience some distance from the plot to turn it around and possibly figure out who the actual killer is. Bucher and company keep the […]
May 1st, 2007 by Russ Bickerstaff
