On the other end of the spectrum, we have Actor’s Theater of Louisville and their second The Balcony event where social networking would not only be encouraged, it would be catered to.  The confirmation of my tickets came with an attachment that listed their accounts on both Facebook and Twitter as well as the designated hashtags for that evening’s production of #Girlfriend and told me to Unwind and Plug In.  To further the boundaries of interaction, a post show gathering at the bar with the cast and crew was promised and there would be a Soundtrack To Your Life insert in the program that asked us to name our mix tape and list the 5 songs that should be on it.

I paid the what seems to be steep $8.00 to park in their garage, grabbed our tickets from will call utterly flummoxed by the reality that people go to the theater in sweatpants, forgetting to stick my head into Edward Lee’s newest venture Milkwood to check out the soft opening instead we ascended the staircase, passed the long line at the bar in the mezzanine, past the poster that warns “This play contains strong language and strobe lighting,” pausing briefly to bow vaguely southwestwardly in appreciation for everything that Brown Foreman does for this city, and into The Balcony where a bar with no line waited for us.  Four dollars a (plastic) glass seemed entirely reasonable for the red wine, though there was no sign of the “light snacks” that were promised on the notice.  My date later allowed that she did see a plastic plate with what looked to be a spent piece of lettuce on it sitting on one of the cocktail tables that lay between The Balcony bar and our seats.

Every seat in the balcony was taken and it’s worth mentioning that I am 6’6” and was quite comfortable the entire time  From my perch I was able to observe only three seats in the lower area that were open.

The main stage:  A chest of drawers over there, a couch (or Subaru, depending upon the context) in the middle, and a dorky kid’s bedroom area over here.  Spartan to say the least, but behind that is another stage modeled after what every 18 year old guy in 1993 wished their basement looked like.  And the lighting rigs that never added too too much to the overall production were in the way of me getting to really visually enjoy that room.  I can’t imagine anyone seated in The Balcony disagreeing with me, and it seems like such an obvious problem to have avoided.  Those unfilled lower level seats were probably better.

We were seated by 7:45 as the notice encouraged us to be so that a docent could appear in our section and inform we the social networkers of, and these are ATL’s words, not mine “what’s cool and what’s lame.”

Ringers off, display dimmed, no recording, I  set my twitter to follow @ATLouisville and it starts like this as the house lights go down but for the one over my head  “Setting:  Alliance, Nebraska.  The summer after high school graduation, 1993.  #Balcony #ActGF”

The embracing of social media types was an ideal set up for me because #Ihatemusicals, and to top it all off, I didn’t like Matthew Sweet back then; there was almost zero chance of me liking him now  So, I was just going to sit there for 90 minutes, whisper snide wisecracks to my date, and distract myself with social networking and frequent trips to the bar since they had left the lights on in this section to accommodate me doing both of those things but there was just one glitch in my plan:  Girlfriend was fantastic.

4 girls pile into the “basement” set, Jyn Yates being instantly recognizable behind her drum kit, can’t see the bass player’s head from here because of the lighting rig, Kelly Richey straps on her Stratocaster, and this 4th person on guitar and keyboards with her back to me, according to the program, is Musical Director Julie Wolf and they launch into a ferocious jam on the intro to the song from which that album and this play takes its name.  And just as the first verse is about to start, they stop.  Great, I think, maybe this will be a musical with no singing.

Enter Will.  It is not the summer after High School as much as it is 5 minutes after High School, or as he calls it, New Years as he dumps his textbooks into the garbage.  He is wearing a T-shirt that is completely covered with from what up here appears to be the periodic table of elements.  He has a Star Wars pillow case and a bedside space shuttle lamp.  He has a jam box and a cassette tape and a first generation cordless landline with retractable antennae which rings as we are introduced to Mike, the play’s only other on stage character.

They are both wearing headset microphones.  There is obviously going to be signing.

What followed was 88 or so minutes of genius and bliss.  Picking up my mobile and checking what they had to say on Twitter simply never occurred to me.  Nor did getting up and getting another glass of wine.

Factor out that lighting rig and everything else was incredibly realized.  The notion quickly takes hold:  Maybe Matthew Sweet’s album Girlfriend was intended to be the soundtrack for early 90s middle American gay teen love.  Everything else makes sense after that, like the prom king type going off to college to become a brain surgeon instead of the Star Wars Space Shuttle guy who is not even planning on escaping his rural hellhole to go to college at all.

A third character begins to emerge; the movie that Will and Mike go to see at the drive in four or five times over the course of that summer. One’d be lead to believe that the movie is called Evangeline, which just also happens to be the name of a Matthew Sweet song.  A super hero, a cop, a extra terrestrial, a lover, and a nun all rolled into one.  I want to see this movie if it exists.  Normally, this is the type of quest that begins with a Google search, else straight to IMDB, but in the spirit of things, I fired off a tweet to which I still await* a reply: “Is Evangeline an actual movie? @ATLouisville.”

They had been using their twitter feed to mostly retweet audience feedback, but also to announce the title of each song as it worked it’s way into the story line, and while Kelley Richey’s left hand was not technically a character in the play, it was something you never wanted to take your eye off as it flew all over the neck of her guitar while the band provided the Matthew Sweet jams and backing vocals to accompany Will and Mike’s working of the lyrics into the script when they weren’t delivering one perfect line of Todd Almond’s dialogue after another, transforming the vibe during the musical moments from taking in a play to checking out a bar band.  Being a dork in love is never easy, never comfortable, but being a gay teenage dork in love in Nebraska in the early 90’s?  And while Sweet’s album brings all of this to life perfectly, it is the dialogue that fleshes out the script

People of a certain age are assured to get a nostalgia kick from the early ninetiesness of it all (especially if they appreciate the fact that they are being encouraged to tweet from their mobile devices about a play set blatantly in a time before mobile devices existed), but the main themes are timeless.  I can’t imagine anyone, regardless of age, gender, or orientation, not being able to identify with Will and his general awkwardness and the anxiety that locks him up while sitting in the front seat of the Subaru night after night at the movies.  You will laugh while cringing at your personal frame of reference for these moments.

After the fact it was apparent that people had been tweeting throughout, but it certainly was never a distraction.  Wrapped up in the comedy, and it was hysterical, was a great deal of sweetness, a touch of bittersweetness, and a depth and empathy that I found surprising.  I was rapt.  Everything gets a standing ovation these days, rendering them meaningless.  Girlfriend earned it.

* The replies came.  First “Our detectives are working on it. Will update you as we uncover more!”  and then the next day: “research led us to a film called ‘naked nuns with big guns’ Not the film! Checked with Todd Almond and film is made up!”

The set design was one of the best I have seen at Actors, with Act 1 resulting in a two-tiered set and a dramatic change in Act 2 for the mall scene. A backdrop of blue-favored-snow-laden houses paired with a techno-color Christmas tree complimented the golden light of the famous “leg lamp” in front of the window. The set alone could easily transport us to Hohman, Indiana, circa 1940.

There were some notable differences with Grecian’s adaptation: without the gift of motion picture special effects, there is a consistent execution of creative props and comic relief sewn into the dialogue causing the audience to use their imagination even through distinct moments of realism. For example, this version included hilarious elves who introduced the play, were responsible for scene changes amid amusing dance scenes, and who had creative interaction with cast members to create scenes similar to the movie.

The narration was audible as well as physically viewable as the present-time (now grown) Ralph Parker (Larry Bull) reminisced aloud while circumnavigating each scene.

There were several stars of this production. Henry Miller (Ralphie Parker) of course, with the right pair of glasses really took on the personification of Ralpie, but what indubiously got the crowd in a consistent uproar of laughter (aside from the elves) were The Old Man (Justin R. G. Holcomb) and Mother (Jessica Wortham). Holcomb’s animated voice and dramatic gestures were well supported by Wortham’s whimsical light-heartedness, and together collided into an explosion of histrionic hilarity.

Add to that an Andrea-Martin-like Miss Shields (Katie Blackerby) and a supporting cast of surprisingly look-alike characters to the movie, and a fuzzy sweater — you have an evening guaranteed to make you laugh for years to come! This production was so entertaining that I am bundling up my children and bringing them to see it. Perhaps they will learn a lesson…a Red Rider BB Gun might “Shoot your eye out”.

A Christmas Story will be showing at Actors Theatre Nov. 8 – Nov. 27. For tickets and more information visit: http://actorstheatre.org/shows/a-christmas-story-2011-2012

Written By: Jessica Eturralde for City Concierge Louisville

Fall is a time of cool weather festivities and long standing traditions, be it reaping the harvest, Halloween or seeing Dracula at Actor’s Theater. This year’s production (adapted and directed by William McNulty and based on Bram Stoker’s novel of the same name) is phenomenally entertaining.  If it’s gore you’re after, Dracula holds the key to your bloody little heart. The tale revolves around a character similar (albeit not referenced) to Vlad the Impaler, Prince of Wallachia and Dracula, son of the Dragon who has lived hundreds of years as a vampire, feeding his immortality on the innocent blood of the unsuspecting. Dracula has developed a mysterious interest in Jonathan’s fiancé, Lucy, and has lured her to his lair. With the assistance of Doctor Van Helsing, Jonathan sets out to save Lucy and rid the world of Dracula’s evil.

Alex Morfas, playing the eccentric asylum madman, Renfield, brought more charm and satisfaction to his portrayal than did Tom Waits in the Francis Ford Coppola movie adaption (Bram Stoker’s Dracula, 1992).  Until now, the only dramatization of the novel I had ever seen was that film, and it left an unfortunately cornball impression. Actor’s production resurrected my appreciation of Stoker’s timeless tale.  Rufio Lerma, portraying Count Dracula, gives a charismatic, saucy and suave performance. His intensity draws the audience deep into the dark clutches of McNulty’s direction, which is chillingly combined with the toxic decadence of Bram Stoker’s story. With no hesitation, I can say that the whole cast gives an arousing and passionate performance, from the oozing of blood to the shrillest screams. Not too shabby for the seventeenth consecutive season of Dracula at Actor’s. The production is as fresh as the blood that its haunted antagonist spills.

I can’t stress enough how important it is to keep places like Actor’s Theatre supported, especially when they go out of their way to create amazing shows year after year. Louisville is fortunate to have such well done theater in its proverbial living room. Actor’s presentation of Dracula certainly starts the Halloween season off on its best foot, if not on a downright thrilling one.
Once the cast digs its teeth into the rich dialogue, delivering heroic and curdling performances to Stoker’s masterpiece, you can’t help but cozy up to the idea of spending a cool October evening with the delightful cast of Dracula. It’s when the theater becomes red-hued and dusty and you can almost smell the adrenaline sifting from heart-palpitating panic that you remember why you love to see the tale unfold again…and again. Your pulse quickens. Your pupils dilate. Before you know it,  the curtains close. You can’t help clapping. My how time flies when your inner goth is having fun!

They are woven together within Mark Twain’s famous novel: “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer”. Playwright Laura Eason and Director Jeremy B. Cohen come together as a dynamic twosome to display this tale to stages all over the country; including New York, Philadelphia, Denver, and now here in Louisville.

Louisville’s Actor’s Theatre continues its stalwart season with a well-accomplished cast with backgrounds on Broadway, film, and television. Tim McKiernan rightfully exhibits the free-going personality of Tom Sawyer, engaging the audience in laughter with his dialogue with Huckleberry Finn (Robbie Tann). Onlookers even gasped when the two ‘cut’ their fingers for a blood oath.

Yes, I am 20 minutes early to see the 48^th season’s first performance of Sense and Sensibility. However, I do not mind because it is cool, quiet, and I am sipping on the sweet tartness of the celebrity cocktail of the evening, “The Dashwood”.

“In this witty comedy of manners, two sisters who are alike only in their pursuit of romance find themselves without fortune, and facing difficult marriage prospects. Will Elinor’s common sense or Marianne’s impulsive passion offer up the key to living “happily ever after”? Austen’s classic tale of flirtation and folly graces Actors Theatre’s stage in a delightful new adaptation by Jon Jory,” I read from my program guide.

The stage area is beautifully lit up in shades of blue, gray, and mixing with a tease of filtered red. In the middle stands a colonial-style double door. Behind the door is a large reflective circle, resembling a golden sun.

The lights dim and our play begins.

Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen’s first and most beloved novel; is wittingly sewn together. There is a consistent tango of empathy and comic relief. Nancy Lemenager (Elinor) and Helen Sadler (Marianne) skillfully embody the sister’s contrasting personalities.

“This is a story that pits passion against rationality,” says John Jory, adapter and director. “These two facets of human nature are commingled in every personality, but in varying proportions. Jane Austen had great affection for passion, but she knew that in order to live a life not constantly endangered by excesses of passion, one needs common sense.”

So I observe the unwinding of these two sisters coping with their circumstances, searching for love within or beyond their means. Each character seems to carry their own identity about themselves. One of my favorites, Sir John Middleton (wellfully played by David Pichette) has a character full of excitable energy. I look around. The crowd looks anxious, anticipating him in wonderment. Almost all of us in the back rows are seated forward to appease our curiosity. And I… watch in amusement even through the lingering hair follicles of the man slouching in front of me.

The story ends with the bowing of characters to a full standing ovation; a clear statement of satisfaction of the night’s performance. I gracefully shimmy out of my aisle and follow the chattery crowd down the carpeted stairs into the gallery area. As I make my way around the art displays under the ornate lobby dome, I can only think of the quirkiness of love.

“Love: the byproduct and/or the means of any intentional action that we take,” I conclude.

I ride the elevator to the 3^rd level to return to my car. While opening the door, I am greeted by the night’s lingering humidity and a smell that only a car garage can emit. I smile. “It was a good night,” I think to myself.

“In the end only love is worth writing about, the rest is simply a matter of detail.” –Jane Austen

*Sense and Sensibility will be playing at the Actors Theatre through Sept. 24^th. For more info on The Actors Theatre visit: www.actorstheatre.org