Thank you to my karaoke compatriots this past Friday night at Dino’s Lounge in Ferndale, Michigan, for encouraging these shenanigans: Colleen McConnell Fowler, Blaine D. Fowler, Collin Fowler, Bailey Fowler, Lauren Crocker, Michael Stets Steczkowski, Kristina Millman-Rinaldi, Dave Rinaldi, Matthew Laurinec, Jenna Miller, Danielle Zuccaro, Clarice Zuccaro, Sam Finn, Jo Epstein Finn, Bradley L Finn, Dustin Banooni, Warner Crocker, Thomasin Savaiano, and Amanda Murray. Thank you, John Mola, for cheering me on and taking these videos. 🎶❤️
Do you love Ella Fitzgerald, Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr, Doris Day, Tony Bennett, Lena Horne, Bobby Darin, Nat King Cole? Journey into a night club where every musical era is represented – swing, jazz, big band, lounge, Rat Pack, pop … and maybe even a few present day surprises.
Join us at the Village Theater on Wednesday, February 5th at 7 p.m. for our 3rd Annual Music Cabaret Fundraiser: “Live From the Star Light Lounge,” an event that educates, entertains, saves.
This show, under the musical direction of Kevin Ryan, director of music and liturgy at St. Thomas a’Becket, will include a live band with special guest trombonist Bugs Beddow as well as a cast of amazingly talented individuals and special appearances from some local celebs. DanceBeat will add to the fun with their unique and vibrant dance stylings. Local personality Roy Sexton, director of marketing for the law firm Clark Hill, will emcee the evening.
“We are thrilled to be returning for year three. The support from the community has been overwhelming. It’s a fantastic cause, and I’m so grateful for the incredible talent volunteering their time for this important mission. Ring a ding ding! Take a step back in time to the Rat Pack era for a fabulous evening of entertainment and compassion. Last year we raised over $20,000, so I can’t wait to see what happens this year,” noted Producer/Director Denise Staffeld, a mortgage loan officer at DFCU Financial.
Enjoy a delicious dessert and sweet treats bar, featuring Cold Stone Creamery ice cream, while trying your luck at our Prize Pull, 50/50 and more. A cash bar will be available. All proceeds and donations from the event will benefit the American Cancer Society’s Relay For Life of Canton and Plymouth
Frozen 2 has a difficult task: justify its existence as more than an unnecessary cash grab sequel to a multi-billion-dollar, unexpected-franchise-spawning original that was kind of a rip-off of the Broadway musical Wicked (which was, itself, a watered-down derivative of a much more interesting novel).
And, for the most part, Frozen 2 succeeds. Not unlike this summer’s Toy Story 4, the lack of a predetermined intellectual property roadmap is liberating, yielding a trippy, dark, existential exploration that surprises, delights, and traumatizes.
Frozen2 (is that REALLY the best title they could devise?) is beautiful and kinda loopy in a New Agey sort of way. Not sure exactly what I sat through, but I loved its messages of inclusion and empowerment, even if its plot line seems to throw Avatar, Pocahontas, The Fifth Element, Wicked, Marianne Williamson’s brain, and Frozen the First in a blender. Songs are fab too.
I’m not sure the world needed an origin story explaining Elsa’s snow queen powers, even if the potential revenue stream to befall the Mouse House makes such a cinematic move unavoidable. That said, I applaud the filmmakers for doing so with a conscience, muddled as the final results may be.
In essence, without spoiling too much, sisters Elsa (Idina Menzel) and Anna (Kristin Bell) discover that their forebears in the Arendelle royal family might not have been as kind as they should have been to the land’s indigenous Northuldra people. In a timely nod to our nation’s own Thanksgiving mythologizing, the first time their grandfather broke bread with the native tribe inhabiting the “enchanted forest” outside Arendelle, he might have had nefarious colonizing motives. It is then up to Elsa and Anna – alongside returning buddies Olaf the snowman (Josh Gad) and Kristoff and his beloved reindeer Sven (both voiced by Jonathan Groff) – to unearth the truth, bring peace to the natural order (reflected in weather patterns run amuck – sound familiar?), and right the historical wrongs. If Disney was ever to offer a populist counterpoint to xenophobic MAGA tribalism it is Frozen 2.
The film doubles down on the zany Nordic fantasy elements suggested by the bizarre rock trolls in the first film, with Frozen 2 offering flame lizards, anthropomorphic wind currents, water horses, bolder giants, and more cryptic hieroglyphs than you could hurl a Rosetta Stone at. It all works better than it should, woven together by our collective fondness for the characters, all voiced with warmth and whimsy by the principals, and for the music.
Songwriting team Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Robert López have outdone themselves on the numbers here, jettisoning any singsong qualities of the first’s films ditties in favor of musical comedy complexity and emotional depth. There are no “ear worms” in this score which is a compliment to the songwriters and the filmmakers who allow more character-driven nuance in. I’ll take this film’s “Into the Unknown” or “When I Am Older” or “Lost in the Woods” or “Show Yourself” or “The Next Right Thing” over the prior entry’s “Let It Go” or “Do You Want to Build a Snowman?” any day, all day long.
As Elsa notes ominously toward the film’s conclusion: “fear is what can’t be trusted.” If Frozen 2 is as inescapable as its predecessor was and successfully socializes themes of inclusion, equality, fairness, and acceptance among our youth (and their parents), then Disney deserves to fill its corporate coffers with a mountain of box office gold ten times over.
BONUS: Honored!! I was quoted by Law.com’s Frank Ready in “5 Challenges Facing Firms Trying to Boost Marketing With Tech,” which includes discussions of app development, podcasts, YouTube/video, social media, and open-source software: https://lnkd.in/em6NSpr (subscription may be required) … excerpt …
“They assume that you’re a good lawyer. They want to see that you’re a decent human being and that you’re engaged in our world,” Sexton said. “We need to put all of that in language that appeals, yes to millennials, but again, to millennials on the way toward appealing toward everyone else. And the manner in which millennials are reshaping our culture and the way we think, we have to keep an eye towards that.” …
Modern audiences are bombarded by content, and for every firm that adopts a video channel or sets up a podcast booth, there’s probably another lawyer out there doing the exact same thing.
To stand out, attorneys may have to emphasize personality over personal accomplishments and perhaps even begin contemplating the true meaning of the words “free of charge.” #lmamkt
Well, this is about the nicest review anyone (who isn’t my mother) has ever written about anything I’ve done on stage. “Roy Sexton is outstanding as Buddy. He has some of the most complex songs exploring the most complex emotions. His takes on ‘The Right Girl’ and ‘Buddy’s Blues’ are vocally strong and emotionally engaging as he conjures up a dialogue with his girlfriend while still yearning for the love of his wife.” Read more: https://pulp.aadl.org/node/399787. Theatre Nova’s Follies in Concert runs ONE more weekend, starting Thursday: http://www.theatrenova.org
“Follies” continues Thursday-Saturday, Nov. 14-16, at 8 pm and Nov. 17 at 2 pm. Theatre Nova, 410 W. Huron St., Ann Arbor. For tickets, call 734-635-8450 or go to theatreNOVA.org.
Follies’ premise – aged alumni of the Weisman (think Ziegfeld) Follies reunite at their derelict theatre to relive their youth and ponder their life choices just before the place is leveled for a parking lot – is challenging to stage for any theater because of the intermingling of time, but Theatre Nova carries it off. …
Dramatic highlights of this show are “Losing My Mind,” a solo performed by Sue Booth, as Sally, and “Live, Laugh, Love” by Thomas Murphy, as Ben, and the ensemble.
Comic highlights are the rollicking “Buddy’s Blues” by Roy Sexton as the sad sack traveling salesman Buddy Plummer, and “I’m Still Here,” performed by Olive Hayden-Moore as Follies veteran Carlotta.
Diane Hill, who directs the play and co-stars as Phyllis Rogers Stone, also performs two of Follies’ funniest songs, “Could I Leave You” and “Lucy and Jessie” with spot-on comic timing.
Follies’ famous mirror number, “Who’s That Woman,” is given nice treatment by Carrie Jay Sayer, as showgirl Stella.
The most effective time-splicing number in the show is probably “Waiting for the Girls Upstairs.”
Eddie Rothermel, Kryssy Becker, Connor Thomas Rhoades, and Annie Kordas do a fine job of portraying Ben and Phyllis, Buddy and Sally in their younger years.
Theatre NOVA presents “Follies in Concert” book by James Goldman, music & lyrics by Stephen Sondheim Nov. 7 – 17, 2019
ANN ARBOR, MI (Oct. 8, 2019) – Theatre NOVA, Ann Arbor’s professional theatre with an exclusive focus on new plays and playwrights, presents a limited engagement of “Follies in Concert” book by James Goldman, music & lyrics by Stephen Sondheim.
Sondheim’s Broadway smash-hit musical concerns a reunion in a crumbling Broadway theatre of the past performers of the “Weismann’s Follies” that played in that theatre between the World Wars. Presented in concert, Follies is a glamorous and fascinating peek into a bygone era, and a clear-eyed look at the transformation of relationships over time, with countless songs that have become standards, including “Broadway Baby,” “I’m Still Here,” “Too Many Mornings”, “Could I Leave You?” and “Losing My Mind.”
Directed by Diane Hill, with Music Direction by Brian E. Buckner, “Follies in Concert” features Sue Booth, Thomas Murphy, Diane Hill, Roy Sexton, Annie Kordas, Kryssy Becker, Eddie Rothermel, Connor Rhoades, Harold Jurkiewicz, Olive Hayden-Moore, Carrie Jay Sayer, Emily Rogers-Driskill, Gayle Martin, and Edith Lewis.The production and design team includes Monica Spencer (scenic design), Jeff Alder (lighting design), and Briana O’Neal (stage manager).
“Follies in Concert” will run for two weeks only, Nov. 7 through Nov. 17, 2019, at Theatre NOVA (410 W. Huron, Ann Arbor), a downtown performance space. Performances are Thursday through Saturday at 8:00 p.m. and Sunday matinees are at 2:00 p.m. Theatre NOVA features free parking for patrons, as well as quick access to the city’s restaurants, bars, bakeries, and coffee shops.
Tickets are $30 for this limited engagement fundraiser for Theatre NOVA. For tickets, visit TheatreNOVA.org, call 734-635-8450 or buy them in person at the box office one hour before showtime.
Theatre NOVA is Ann Arbor’s resident professional theatre company. Its mission is to raise awareness of the value and excitement of new plays and playwrights and provide resources for playwrights to develop their craft by importing, exporting, and developing new work.
Stephen Sondheim wrote the music and lyrics for “Saturday Night” (1954), “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum” (1962), “Anyone Can Whistle” (1964), “Company” (1970), “Follies” (1971), “A Little Night Music” (1973), “The Frogs” (1974), “Pacific Overtures” (1976), “Sweeney Todd” (1979), “Merrily We Roll Along” (1981), “Sunday in the Park with George” (1984), “Into the Woods” (1987), “Assassins” (1991), “Passion” (1994), and “Road Show” (2008). Sondheim also wrote lyrics for “West Side Story”(1957), “Gypsy”(1959), and “Do I Hear a Waltz?”(1965) and additional lyrics for “Candide” (1973). Anthologies of his work include “Side by Side by Sondheim” (1976), “Marry Me a Little” (1981), “You’re Gonna Love Tomorrow” (1983), “Putting it Together”(1993/99), and “Sondheim on Sondheim” (2010). He composed the scores of the films “Stavisky” (1974) and “Reds” (1981) and songs for “Dick Tracy” (1990) and the television production “Evening Primrose” (1966). His collected lyrics with attendant essays have been published in two volumes: “Finishing the Hat” (2010) and “Look, I Made A Hat” (2011). In 2010 the Broadway theater formerly known as Henry Miller’s Theatre was renamed in his honor.
James Goldman was born in Chicago and graduated from the University of Chicago; he did postgraduate work at Columbia University. He has written numerous plays, including “Blood, Sweat and Stanley Poole” (1961; co-written with his brother, William Goldman), “They Might Be Giants” (1961) and “The Lion in Winter” (1966). In addition to “Follies” (1971), he has been the bookwriter of “A Family Affair” (1962; co-author with William Goldman, music by John Kander), the television musical “Evening Primrose” (1967, music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim) and “Follies” (1987, London – a re-conception of the original piece). His screenplays include “The Lion in Winter” (1968 – Academy Award; British Screenwriters Award), “They Might Be Giants” (1970), “Nicholas and Alexandra” (1971), “Robin and Marian” (1976) and “White Nights” (1985, co-writer). Goldman’s work for television has included an adaptation of “Oliver Twist” (1982), “Anna Karenina” (1985), “Anastasia: The Mystery of Anna Anderson” (1986). He is also the author of a novel, “Waldorf.”
Diane Hill (director) is a Producing Artistic Director at Theatre NOVA and was founder and Artistic/Executive Director of Two Muses Theatre, a nonprofit, professional theatre in West Bloomfield. Diane was a professor at University of Detroit Mercy and Oakland Community College, where she originated and designed the Theatre degree program. She has a Ph.D. in Theatre from Wayne State University and a Bachelor of Music and Master of Arts in Theatre from the University of Michigan. She has performed at many professional theatres in southeast Michigan, including the Fisher Theatre, Meadow Brook Theatre, Masonic Temple, Michigan Opera Theatre, Detroit’s Gem Theatre, Purple Rose Theatre, Tipping Point Theatre, Encore Musical Theatre, Croswell Opera House, Open Book Theatre, The Ringwald, and Cherry County Playhouse. She was awarded a Wilde Award for her portrayal of Professor Vivian Bearing in “Wit,” a Rogue Critic’s Award for her work as Mama in “’night, Mother,” both with Breathe Art Theatre Project, and an Ann Arbor News Award for her work as Agnes in “I Do! I Do!” at Kerrytown Concert House. At Theatre NOVA, she directed “Clutter” and “Kill Move Paradise.” Theatre NOVA audiences saw her play Olympe de Gouges in “The Revolutionists” (Wilde Award Best Production), Zelda in “The How and the Why” (Wilde Award Best Actress), and Penelope Easter in “The Totalitarians.”
Brian E. Buckner (Music Director) is an active actor, pianist, composer, arranger, vocal coach, choreographer and music director based in the Ann Arbor, MI area. A versatile talent, he works comfortably in all genres and is director of music of several local ensembles including Wild Swan Theater and the Episcopal Church of the Incarnation, in addition to having performed in Canada, China, and Mexico. Favorite recent productions include “Murder Ballad” (The Penny Seats Theatre Company), “The Devil’s Music” (Theatre NOVA), “Peter and the Starcatcher” (University of Michigan) and “Rock of Ages” (The Dio). Brian composed the original music used in Theatre NOVA’s production of “Kill Move Paradise.”
FACT SHEET WHO: Cast: Sally Durant Plummer: Sue Booth Benjamin Stone: Thomas Murphy Buddy Plummer: Roy Sexton Phyllis Rogers Stone: Diane Hill Young Sally: Annie Kordas Young Ben: Eddie Rothermel Roscoe, Young Buddy: Connor Rhoades Young Phyllis: Kryssy Becker Dimitri Weismann, Theodore Whitman: Harold Jurkiewicz Hattie Walker, Carlotta Campion: Olive Hayden-Moore Emily Whitman, Heidi Schiller: Edith Lewis Stella Deems: Carrie Jay Sayer Young Heidi: Emily Rogers-Driskill Solange La Fitte: Gayle Martin
About 20 years ago, someone described me as a “Midwestern Backstreet Boy.” I think it was meant as a put down, although if someone called me that now, I would be thrilled. To this day, I’m still not sure what it meant, other than like every kid my age in 1999, I had overly spiky hair and an under-developed fashion sense that rested somewhere between that of Chandler Bing and of Vanilla Ice … by way of JCPenney.
Twenty (!) years later, the Backstreet Boys are still touring, all of them about my age, and the teenagers and 20-somethings who once screamed with rabid adoration are now (cough) middle-aged, debt-ridden, maybe a bit paunchy, and prone to sit during all but the most popular numbers, dutifully capturing every moment on their eerily glowing iPhones, grainy footage never to be viewed again.
I admit *NSYNC was always more my speed, and I have followed Justin Timberlake’s career with some unearned pride, like a racehorse upon whom I had inadvertently placed the right bet. And my husband and I have somehow fallen into the habit of becoming latter-day 98° groupies, to the point the band members actually recognize us when we show up at meet and greets. Heaven help us.
So I went into tonight’s DNA World Tour stop of The Backstreet Boys at Detroit’s Little Caesars Arena with some trepidation. My friend Nikki bought these tickets what seems like a year ago, when their new album DNA was released. I was pleasantly surprised by the songs on that record, which showed a hard won humility and remarkable amount of sophistication, but I admit I hadn’t listened to it after the first couple of plays and had forgotten most of the new music. That was a mistake on my part, and I would advise anyone seeing the show to re-familiarize themselves with that album. It will help your enjoyment immensely.
Much of the first half of the show comes from that album, but DNA’s nuance gets lost in the cavernous environment of an arena. That’s a shame. The Boys might have been smart to take this album on a club tour, not unlike the one “Madame X” Madonna is launching soon. Nonetheless, I was struck by the incredible vocal prowess of the quintet, who sang live throughout, full voiced and powerful. – the rare a cappella number being a particular showcase of their skills.
The set design was unremarkable, but perfectly reasonable for the setting. Replete with digital screens and glowing geometric shapes, the set did not detract, although it did not add much either. Choreography was also at a minimum, essentially The Boys strutting around a trapezoidal catwalk while wearing various shades of what appeared to be military fatigues as designed by Mad Max. To their credit, they avoided all of the modern rock tour clichés like aerial gymnastics or platforms that float out above the audience.
My mother has a couple of things she says about performers these days. She will look at stars around my age and say, “I don’t understand why they are famous. They look like they would come fix my sink.” And “Why can’t singers just stand still and sing anymore?” I suspect she would’ve said both things during this show, and when The Boys did just stand still and sing, vocals layered with silky harmonies and overly earnest delivery, they were at their best.
Band members Kevin Richardson and AJ McLean offered the most pleasant surprises of the night, the former acquitting himself as a remarkably able comic raconteur and the latter demonstrating an earthy, bluesy grit to his singing that I don’t recall from 20 years ago. I’d like someone to give this duo their own variety show post haste.
All of that said, The Boys’ strongest material has always been their carnivalesque, slightly garish, day glo uptempo numbers – “Larger Than Life, “Backstreet’s Back (Alright),” and last year’s pulsating hit “Don’t Go Breakin’ My Heart.” Wisely, they close the show with those hits in a foot stomping rave up that has even the most world-weary Gen X’er fist-pumping like it’s 1999 again. And that alone is worth the price of admission.
Rodgers and Hammerstein’s The King and I is a puzzlement. For the modern viewer at least. The classic show has one of the most beautiful and haunting scores in the legendary R&H canon, but that book … that book. It’s one part Beauty and the Beast fairy tale, one part Westernized history lesson of a culture that deserved better – a fetishization of Asian stereotypes that somehow doubles upon itself as a stringent critique of racism, ethnocentrism, and misogyny.
The King and I is very much a “have its cake and eat it too” smorgasbord of mid-century tropes. Is it a Rorschach test indicting Westerners’ elitist, imperialist, entitled tendencies, or is it simply a smug regurgitation of prejudices for self-satisfied commercial ends? That whole “Small House of Uncle Thomas” ballet in the second act was likely a provocative critique of racism in its day, but our post-Book of Mormon-conditioned cynicism now brings the sequence a whole new layer of culturally appropriated meta-awkwardness.
Blessedly, Lincoln Center’s recent Tony-winning revival, now touring nationally and currently running at Detroit’s Fox Theatre, sidesteps (mostly) the show’s more cringe-worthy moments with a light, humanistic approach that focuses less on spectacle (although there is just the right amount of glitz) and more on the quiet moments as Anna and the King find their appreciation for each other as people not stereotypes. The time-warped jokes about hoop skirts and polygamy still abound, but the production and its cast do a lovely job winking at the clunkier bits without condescending to the source material or breaking characterization. That’s an impressive high wire act.
The cast is sublime, with leads Elena Shaddow (Anna), Jose Llana (King of Siam), Joan Almedilla (Lady Thiang), and Q Lim (Tuptim) offering riched, nuanced turns on iconic characters. Llana plays up the childlike whimsy of an authoritarian wise enough to know his limitations but far too arrogant to openly admit them. His “et cetera, et cetera, et cetera” becomes a kind of postmodern emotional shorthand that never devolves into hackneyed shtick (more “I am Groot,” less “That’s what SHE said!”).
Shaddow presents a fiery and steely Anna, overlayed with poignant notes of loss and heartache -#ImWithHoopSkirt. Almedilla avoids the community theatre pitfall of devolving Lady Thiang into Cinderella’s Lady Tremaine, painting a portrait of a dutiful if wounded courtesan who finds agency working between the cracks in a broken system. Her “Something Wonderful” is a heartbreaking, pretzel-logic showstopper.
Q Lim’s Tuptim – offered as a gift of “property” to the King at the show’s beginning (even though her heart belongs to another) – is the show’s moral compass, revealing the toxic hypocrisy at the heart of Siam’s patriarchy. Her “My Lord and Master” is ablaze with a welcome feminist undercurrent that might be anachronistic to this show and its setting but perfectly welcome in this #MeToo era. “We Kissed In a Shadow” takes on an increased urgency in Lim’s hands as well. Thank goodness.
As expected, the costumes (Catherine Zuber) and sets (Michael Yeargen) are divine. You can’t do this show without some sartorial sumptuousness, and Zuber delivers, her cast awash in gorgeous, flowing jewel-toned silks. The sets are more evocative than detailed, filling the space with floating, gliding pillars that represent a number of locales. Yeargen’s scenic work brings a lovely and surreal dream-like quality to the proceedings which suits Bartlett Sher’s contemporary and self-aware direction.
The King and I is a classic that deserves to be rediscovered by modern audiences, and this production is one for the ages, smoothing over any problematic datedness with a fresh and humane approach. This production celebrates the wonder and beauty of cultures finding appreciation for each other and, more importantly, of people letting go of gendered and racial pretenses and embracing their common humanity.
If Neil Simon’s Plaza Suite had been written by Mel Brooks and staged as a very special episode of The Carol Burnett Show, you would have The Dio’s latest Murder at the Howard Johnson’s. And if you are a child of the 70s, as I am, that is pretty high praise. The Dio, as always, has put on an extremely capable and professional production. What they do so well is provide crowd-pleasing entertainment, exceptionally produced and beautifully performed.
The piece is, as the title suggests, a series of vignettes around a possible murder (or murders) at a Howard Johnson’s Hotel. From Wikipedia: “Murder at the Howard Johnson’s is a 1979 play in two acts by American playwrights Ron Clark and Sam Bobrick. The production officially opened on Broadway at the John Golden Theatre after 10 preview performances on May 17, 1979; closing just three days later after only four more performances.” Surprisingly – and this could be why the play closed so quickly in its original incarnation – it is more prescient and self-aware than most similar farces of its era of the 70s’ overall garishness and often-absurd attitudes toward gender and sexuality.
It helps in great part that The Dio’s crackerjack production team – director Steve DeBruyne, assistant director Carrie Sayer, set/lighting/sound designer Matt Tomich, costume designer Norma Polk, and props master Eileen Obradovich – understand to an almost superhuman level the high wire act of balancing arch comedy and full-on camp without devolving into a soapy, self-indulgent mess. They really spin magic out of smartly utilized resources and raw talent at The Dio – that is what theatre is all about.
The production is an affectionate love letter to a blessedly bygone era. The color scheme is that of the classic hotel, and the dinner theatre food offerings before hand even more so. Why-oh-why American decor abandoned that lovely, preternatural turquoise and orange hue combo I’ll never know.
Molly Cunningham, Joshua Brown [Photo courtesy The Dio, Michele Anliker Photography]
For those unaware, The Dio always offers an immersive evening of entertainment, beginning with dinner and dessert before the performances. If you have a Midwestern palate like mine, and your idea of haute cuisine was shaped table-side at restaurants like Ho-Jo’s with a soundtrack of Hall and Oates and Air Supply in the background, the buffet of vintage delights will leave you chuckling and satisfied by its array of guilty pleasures. I’m vegetarian, and The Dio is always great about accommodating dietary needs, but even I was charmed by the clam strips on the menu. I remember thinking as a child that clam strips were the most exotic items I could order in any restaurant. The Dio has even replicated the vintage style of a Howard Johnson’s menu in the show’s program. No detail is left unturned.
The show is a hoot from start to finish, and, as the run progresses, the tight three-person ensemble will likely get looser and funnier, knowing when and where to milk the audience’s shock-and-awe over the spiraling shenanigans. Those audience reactions will be a key component to the success of this production. Not unlike Harvey Korman and Tim Conway legendarily “breaking” in the middle of a sketch because they had so surprised one another with a comic bit, Murder at the Howard Johnson’s will rise and fall by the affection the performers have for each other’s work. The audience on Saturday night was vocal and enthused, and the cast responded accordingly. The production finds an easy 70s groove with solid pacing, clever musical cues, and the aforementioned pitch perfect set and costume design. I had my covetous eye on one plaid jacket in particular.
Dale Dobson, as cuckolded used car salesman Paul Miller, nearly runs away with the show. Imagine if Gene Wilder and Charles Nelson Reilly had had a baby. No really. Imagine it. There is no place that brave Dobson won’t go – physically and emotionally – and his performance is a manic and escalating tour-de-force. Dobson’s character development pulls just to the right side of becoming an unhinged cartoon, the actor weaving in authentic notes of heartbreak and confusion over the realization that his beloved wife (“I bought her FIVE watches!”) has taken up with a hunky bald dentist who has an affinity for, yes, plaid jackets.
Molly Cunningham Joshua Brown, Dale Dobson [Photo courtesy The Dio, Michele Anliker Photography]
Joshua Brown as dandy dentist Mitchell Lovell is nicely understated (somebody has to be amidst the day-glo chaos), nailing the oddball swaggering machismo of the era, wherein sexual infidelities were seen as heroic accomplishments and men who had been weaned on too many cowboy movies thought a highly compensated career in, say, dentistry made them a modern day Wyatt Earp. The “Me Decade” had no idea #metoo was on its way. Brown has a gift for scoring laughs in the quiet moments, a glowering sidelong glance here, a well-placed sigh there. He is the Lyle Waggoner of this enterprise.
Molly Cunningham knocks it out of the park as Arlene Miller whose indiscretions and flights of murderous fancy launch the narrative into action. She has a knack for the throwaway line, scoring as many laughs with a tossed off zinger as she does the screwball physical comedy demanded by the production. Cunningham also does yeoman’s work keeping the slower moments moving along, setting up the piece’s increasingly hyperbolic tomfoolery.
The show is broken into three scenes (there is no intermission) placed across three holidays (Christmas, Independence Day, and New Year’s), all set in a Howard Johnson’s hotel room, as the trio plots and fails miserably to kill one of their own – a different victim each holiday – triggered by the passions Arlene sparks in the knuckle-headed men in her life. The play’s structure is a tad clunky, forcing the audience to become precoccupied with the passage of time – both in terms of the narrative’s chronology and the play’s length. Interestingly, this is the only element of the piece that reads as dated. However, the Dio’s production makes it all work so well that this becomes a minor criticism.
Murder at the Howard Johnson’s is great fun. Ibsen, it ain’t. Gloriously goofy, it is. Grab a bottle of wine; enjoy the buffet of carbs; and sit back for a night of relentlessly hysterical comedy. Under the orange roof, you won’t be disappointed.
Prince pretty much generated his own cottage industry of Minnesota-bred funk acts. New artists and groups spun from his orbit on what seemed like a daily basis (at the Purple One’s peak): Sheila E., Vanity 6, Apollonia, Wendy & Lisa, The Revolution, The NPG, Tevin Campbell, Ingrid Chavez, Andre Cymone, Carmen Electra, Candy Dulfer, Rosie Gaines, on and on. Arguably, one of the most legendary names is Morris Day and The Time – in great part to having launched the producing careers of band members Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis (the master architects of Janet Jackson’s sound, among others).
In fact, Prince assembled The Time out of thin air, deciding in his whimsy (and expert marketing) that a “rival band” would make for a good narrative. (Think World Wrestling Federation, Jem & The Holograms vs. The Misfits, or any one-off episode of The Monkees.) Lead singer Morris Day was a real-life childhood friend of Prince’s so he was “cast” as Prince’s musical nemesis on the charts and, then quite literally, in the film Purple Rain. Prince was nothing if not clever at creating a deafening buzz, one that sometimes overshadowed his musical gifts.
Day always played his role to the hilt – a vain and petulant Cab Calloway to Prince’s relatively serene Duke Ellington – and The Time’s naughty novelty hits reflected that character: “The Bird,” “Jungle Love,” “Jerk Out,” “Cool,” “Ice Cream Castles,” “Chocolate.”
I always got a kick out of the dynamic, so I was excited that a partially reunited Time (at least Day and drummer Jellybean Johnson) would be performing at Detroit’s Motor City Casino Sound Board venue.
Well, as Thomas Wolfe observed, “You can’t go home again.”
The show was entertaining but on the balance disappointing. Day seemed to be going through the motions, with a new “Jerome” following him around with mirror and trench coat and Day looking pretty bored with it all. (One of Day’s trademark “bits” has been to have a footman – “Jerome” – follow him around holding a mirror up whenever Day wanted to gaze lovingly at his own face or to help Day change in and out of any number of day-glo zoot suits and swing coats.)
Day still has his ear-splitting squawk, and the band he has assembled can replicate the Prince-ified magic of yesteryear, but the whole enterprise now comes off like an oldies band performing at a state fair. The energy was down; the sound mix was muddy; and most of the time (no pun intended) I had a hard time discerning one song from the next.
There also was an unfortunate sequence during “Ice Cream Castles” wherein Day invited a number of female audience members on stage so that he could ogle and comment on their physical appearances. That’s never ok, but now in this historical moment it was particularly nauseating.
All of that said, Day is still a showman and even a worn out carnival barker has his moments. The 90 minute show zipped by, and the audience of 40-plus somethings helped him maintain a party atmosphere, reliving the bygone days of dancing in their parents’ rec rooms, basements, and garages to The Time’s loopy grooves. It’s just a shame Day has found himself locked in amber.
One of his more interesting asides during the concert was when Day posited that Grammy-winner Bruno Mars owed his flamboyant style, cheekiness, and success to the path carved first by Day. It was a telling moment, devoid of irony – a kind of Sunset Boulevard “I am big; it’s the pictures that got small” bit of snark – that revealed Day’s bitter humanity in a way none of his onstage preening ever could. And, it is true that Mars has made a pretty damn fine career mining and reinventing the best of his R&B forebears’ work, but the key difference between Mars and Day is Bruno’s heart and whimsy and light touch. Something Day never really had. Enough with the ginned up rivalries, Mr. Day. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
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