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*****PRODUCTION REVIEWS ***** Characters make ‘Ocean ’ feel like a slice of truth
Review: 'Crowns' full of beautiful music BY BOB FISCHBACH WORLD-HERALD STAFF WRITER It's almost a religious experience. The John Beasley Theater's production of the musical "Crowns," by Regina Taylor, features so much beautifully sung blues, gospel and old-timey church hymns, with just a little bit of preaching and a lot of high-stepping thrown into the mix, you'll feel like you've been to a revival meeting. But rest assured it's some of the most lively and entertaining church you'll ever experience, thanks to this cast of seven exceptionally talented singer-actors. Taylor has written a 95-minute, no-intermission show about black women's love of extravagant hats, most especially worn to Sunday church. As six women characters expound on their experience with hats, elements of family, history and tradition are woven into the mix, along with all those wonderful hymns. Beasley is the seventh cast member, serving in a variety of husband, father and preacher roles, and he shows off a pretty good set of pipes himself on songs such as "Hem of Your Garment." The show hasn't so much a plot as a premise - a young girl (Brandi Smith) whose brother was shot to death in an inner-city neighborhood is sent to live with her grandmother in a small Southern town. At first she feels like a foreigner, singled out for her clothes and hair. Through a series of storytelling vignettes, the girl gets a new sense of her roots and cultural identity. But she also maintains her individuality as she's tutored and then absorbed by the group. The vignettes, played out on a bare stage ringed by hat displays, instruct in all things hat-related, from how they reveal and conceal to how they stay in place right into the coffin or are handed down as rich heritage. Proportion, color and shape are crucial. Don't touch. Hug with care. The purchase and storage of hats are a rich source of humor, along with the reactions of husbands and preachers who simply do not understand. Sometimes great sacrifice is required to afford that special hat. "I lend my children before I lend my hats," says one character. "My children know their way home." Smith could give "American Idol" a run for its money with her gorgeous vocals on numbers such as "I Don't Know How This Dead Soul Can Rise Again." And although Millicent Crawford, Phyllis Mitchell-Butler and Mahalia Asanaenyi each has fine moments in the spotlight as well, Janet Ashley and particularly TammyRa grab that light and run away with it in a flourish of comedic skill, movement and vocal embellishment that leaves you breathless. Audience members were moved to shouts and applause, even getting to their feet to move along - the same kind of enthusiasm you see when Jennifer Hudson grabs you by the throat in "Dreamgirls." Fletcher Nickerson's fine choreography and R. Leon Adams' stage-left combo of keyboards and percussion add considerably to the fun. Vocal director Curtis Leach and director Amy Laaker keep energy levels and pacing percolating at all times, and exceptional diction means you understand lines and lyrics clearly, all the way to the back of the small house.
When you hear the play is about mentally handicapped adults, you wonder whether it will wallow in stereotypes and make fun of its subjects, or if the acting will be over the top. You can set those fears aside. For consistency, character acting and a quality cast, top to bottom, "The Boys Next Door" ranks as one of the most solid shows this reviewer has seen at the John Beasley Theater. It's also highly entertaining - funny, insightful and at times quite moving, without ever disrespecting its subjects or subject matter. Quite the opposite. Tom Griffin's 1986 script follows the lives of four mentally handicapped men who live in a group apartment, with the goal of mainstreaming them into the community. Jack (Carl Brooks), the compassionate social worker whose job is to supervise 17 such living units, knows the guys will never be able to live on their own, that the policy is hopelessly flawed and that he is burned out riding herd on the antics of all these guys, year after year. He loves them, and they depend on him, but he's looking for another career as a matter of self-preservation. Of the four housemates, Barry (Aaron Wilhoft) seems the most functional - he's schizophrenic, not mentally retarded - but his fantasy that he can be a golf pro and his issues with an abusive, largely absentee father (John Payton) show he's far from solid ground. Arnold (Mark Feller), the ringleader, worries about everything. Jovial Norman (L. James Wright), who works at a doughnut shop and hoards his wares, is obsessed with his keys and his girlfriend (Mary Kelly). A personal favorite: Lucien (Andre McGraw), whose mental abilities are described as "somewhere between a 5-year-old and an oyster," lugs around books he can't read and tries to recite the alphabet. McGraw's focus, and his physical transformation, blew me away. As you watch the characters interact and manage household tasks, you get an inside track on their limited - but very real - hopes and dreams. They lean not just on Jack but on one another to get through the day. Griffin dares to make their antics funny, but in a way that makes you warm to them rather than mock them. You also see that community members and co-workers cheat, bully and verbally abuse them. And when the state decides Lucien is ready to go it alone, he has to go through the trauma of a hearing with a state senator (Brenda O'Brien), who quickly sees the truth. Two brief scenes that break from reality to show you what the characters might be like, freed from their mental limitations, are also quite moving. Pacing could tighten here and there, but mostly the show moves along nicely. Director Tyrone Beasley has pulled nuanced, specific performances from his principal players, any of whom could rate postseason honors. Contact the Omaha World-Herald newsroom Copyright ©2006 Omaha World-Herald®. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, displayed or distributed for any purpose without permission from the Omaha World-Herald. ©2006 Omaha World-Herald. All rights reserved.
Patience sometimes is rewarded. That's doubly true of the John Beasley Theater's wistful production of "Seven Guitars," which opened last weekend after several postponements. August Wilson's play about Floyd Barton, a jazz-blues guitarist on the verge of recording stardom, is set in 1948 Pittsburgh. The white-owned record company failed to pay Barton and his musician pals Red and Canewell what it owed them on a first record. Floyd urges patience and a second trip to Chicago to record again, this time with bargaining power because the first record is a hit. He also hopes for patience from girlfriend Vera, after he took another woman on that first recording trip and left brokenhearted Vera behind. But Red and Canewell want money upfront, and Vera has lost faith in Floyd's promises. Then the county drags its feet on paying Floyd the pittance he's due for hard labor done at a prison work farm. He needs the money to get his guitar out of hock. Floyd's patience is tested on all fronts at once. "Seven Guitars" earned eight Tony nominations, including best play, in 1996, and it won the Drama Critics Circle award for best play. Watching the play, you can't help but be moved by the finely drawn characters Wilson created and the flashes of poetic beauty found in his words. Co-directors John Beasley and Amy Laaker have accented the drama while perhaps not fully mining the comedy in the script, but there's plenty of acting talent in their cast of seven. Tyrone Beasley, John's son, shows great dramatic range as Floyd, whether charming a sullen Vera (Angela McGraw), bantering with his bandmates or exploding in angry frustration at the denial of his pay - and his dreams. Ray Gene McIntosh, as the genial and womanizing drummer Red, and Leander Phelps III, as practical and hardheaded harmonica player Canewell, give excellent supporting performances, adding warmth and depth to several key scenes. McIntosh displays a fine singing voice as well. Linda Brown creates some fine moments as self-reliant Louise, who has lost her faith in men but not quite her need to flirt once in a while. Rochelle Gordon, who joined the cast late as visiting cousin Ruby, steams things up as the kind of woman who causes trouble by just walking past. Her impact on mentally troubled Hedley (Jerry Davis) provides a pivotal plot turn. Friday's opener ran well past three hours, continuing a pattern of uneven pacing seen in past Beasley shows. Patience is rewarded in the fine performances and script, but sharper cues and speaking tempos could shave 20 minutes from the running time, while heightening dramatic impact. Carrie Brooks' costumes and Shane Staiger's set - a worn back porch, cellar door, garden plot and yard with high wooden fence - do much to capture time, place and mode of life for these characters, all of whom have disillusionment in their pasts. In an era short on attention span and long on visual dazzle, not all will sit still for the payoff in "Seven Guitars." For fans of socially relevant, slice-of-life drama, these rich characters and Wilson's words are worth the wait. Contact the Omaha World-Herald newsroom Copyright ©2006 Omaha World-Herald®. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, displayed or distributed for any purpose without permission from the Omaha World-Herald.
Welcome once again to the landscapes of Willy Loman's tormented mind.
The John Beasley Theater presents Arthur Miller's mesmerizing contemporary classic, Death of a Salesman. Originally titled The Inside of His Head, its half-century longevity can be attributed chiefly to audiences' loving, loathing, pitying, fearing and embracing Willy. Crossing that threshold that provides access to Willy's mind can be likened to exploring a nightmare with all of its expressionistic distortions. As we watch his warped flow of consciousness unfold, we identify with his all-too-familiar predicament, for Willy's excessive lust for success and popularity frequently reflects frightening, albeit spellbinding images of ourselves. Willy, a washed-out Brooklyn dreamer over 60 who's both economically challenged and spiritually impoverished, has struggled for decades pretending to be something he's not - a likable, successful salesman. Presently, he's come home from his final sales trip to his excessively loyal wife, Linda (Erline M. Patrick). The couple's two grown sons Biff and Happy (Guy Herman Shields Jr. and Tyrone Beasley, respectively) have returned home for the first time in years, a home where the inhabitants have always lived a lie. What happens during this fascinating family reunion reaps tragic consequences. Director John Beasley (the definitive pro who also plays Willy) has created compelling theater, adeptly clarifying Miller's rich motifs and symbolism. Beasley's adroit directing choices juxtapose the riveting rhythms within his own mercurial acting, generating bravura entertainment. Beasley's powerful acting performance exemplifies estimable physical, emotional and intellectual control in mastering the character's multiple contradictions: He's brave, yet cowardice; aggressive, but timid; loving and vengeful. Beasley's unassailable stage presence gravitates us right into the windmills of Willy's mind - a riveting place to visit but a horror to live in. Beasley extracts impeccable performances from his principal players who complement and complete Miller's battle-torn tapestry. Ultimately, we witness how rage can be transmuted into groping, unselfish love. Though Willy emerges from his battle mortally wounded, Beasley emphasizes that the tragedy could have been prevented, intimating that all Willy had to do was learn to be his own person, to liberate himself from certain corrupt societal dictates that constantly encourage us to compare ourselves to others. At one point, Biff laments, "He never knew who he was." That's true. Then Biff asserts, "He had the wrong dreams. All, all wrong." That's false. Beasley's interpretation communicates that Willy had the right dreams; he simply went searching in the wrong direction, becoming morally diminished and lost in madness. Miller's criticism of our capitalist society and its compromising effect on some people's moral code depicts the tragedy of unrestrained competitive forces. The play exhibits how this invariably capitulates into materialism, jealousy and self-loathing, forcing the Willies of our world to march to the throbbing beat of demanding societal expectations, consequently becoming casualties of the system. But ultimately, Miller's artistic merit triumphs over his politics - his humanism overshadowing his Marxism. Beasley's study of Miller's thesis poetically conveys a lesson for all of us: To avoid becoming a slave to - and ultimately a casualty of - the very system that we love. Death of a Salesman runs through June 26 at the John Beasley Theater & Workshop inside the LaFern Williams Center, 3010 Q Street Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays at 7:30 and Sundays at 3 p.m. Admission is $20 general and $18 for students and seniors with proper ID. For more information call 444.3446
Given a week since opening, the cast and crew of the Beasley Theater's "Death of a Salesman" may have a stellar production on their hands by now. It was not so on opening night Friday.
The theater's namesake, John Beasley, stars as Willy Loman in Arthur Miller's classic 1949 Pulitzer winner, and his talented son, Tyrone, both directs and stars as Willy's son, Happy. Sounds like a potent combination, along with established local talents Erline Patrick as Willy's wife and Ben Gray as his brother. And it may yet be. The spirit of Miller's characters and the play's themes were very much alive on the stage Friday, but the show felt as if it needed another week to be ready for an audience. At times actors seemed to be reaching for lines and ad-libbing to cover the gaps, resulting in repetition, awkward silences or several talking at once. That may have caused lighting cues to be off as well, sometimes leaving speakers in the dark while a brightly lighted area stood empty. Backstage lighting caused recurring distractions of shadows moving on the theater's back wall and on a backing flat just beyond a stage left doorway. These were not shadows we were meant to see. Uneven pacing stretched the show to about three hours. A generous audience gave the cast a standing ovation, despite the flaws, and little wonder. The emotional impact of this timeless work's themes is immense. John Beasley has had success as an actor in a recurring role on the WB's dramatic television series "Everwood" and in featured roles in some terrific movies, such as "The Apostle," "Rudy," "The Sum of All Fears" and others. He has shared his good fortune with his hometown, opening the John Beasley Theater & Workshop in 2001. The theater has staged many successes in its short history. This production, too, had successful and moving moments, as when Willy's son Biff ("Guy" Herman Shields Jr.) discovers his father's marital infidelity. It is the end of hero worship and the start of bitter estrangement. John Beasley showed his full dramatic power in flashback sequences in which he confuses past and present, anguished in his search for where his life took a wrong turn. Patrick was particularly eloquent in a scene in which she shocks her sons into recognizing Willy's plight and what they owe him. Tyrone Beasley gave a consistently focused and effective performance. Charles Galloway Sr. was a crowd favorite, providing comic relief as neighboring Uncle Charley. "Death of a Salesman's" themes of broken dreams and disillusionment take on added resonance spoken by this mostly black cast. Given time to settle and attention to detail, this production's full potential can more than do justice to Miller's masterpiece. ************************************************************************ Published Saturday ************************************************************************
Most people know Ted Lange as the bartender on "The Love Boat," but he has written 14 plays and directed a lot of episodic television. Lange's gifts as both playwright and director were on display Friday night at the John Beasley Theatre, along with those of four personality-plus actresses in Lange's "Four Queens - No Trump." And four African-American queens they are, contrasting each other in body type, fashion sense, hair, personality - and taste in men. Happily married Deola (Rusheaa Smith) hosts the weekly card game, dancing alone as she sets up the table and chairs, and cooking up a storm. Deola is a psychic dog groomer, so you can get your palm read when you drop your pet off. Maude (Pasionetta Prince) is full of foul-mouthed sass. "I love a well-placed expletive in an otherwise ordinary sentence," she explains. She also loves jazz musicians. Wealthy Jocenia (Makayla M. Wesley) is all attitude and shopping. "I am not high-maintenance," she insists. "I'm spoiled, and there IS a difference." But is her married life as happy as it appears? Edna (TammyRa Jackson) is Deola's friend from college days, recently divorced and beginning to date again. A bit more reserved than the others, she still knows how to hold her ground. A horrible secret in her family's past plays a role in her future. Across the card table or over scotch, we get to eavesdrop on what four middle-aged black women talk about when only their closest friends are listening. And it is funny. Lange has a pretty good ear for dialogue, evidenced by the steady laughs from a crowd of about 60 at Friday's opener. Running jokes build the humor, such as Deola's habit of opening a door before someone knocks or heading to the phone before it rings. "It's a gift," she reminds Edna. "It's a curse, keep it to yourself," replies Edna. The sex talk does get a little raunchy, and there's plenty of cussing, but also plenty of heart as the four women clash over cards, dish the dirt and listen when someone needs to sing the blues. The appearance of a love interest, Jefferson (Jon Jefferies), seemed to deflate the comedic souffle late in the show, as pacing and timing slowed. Just two women's stories contained a full dramatic arc, while the lives of the other pair were unchanged at play's end. Still, the crowd stood early at final curtain. A few insider jokes about Omaha law firms and personalities tailored the play to its audience. Lange said he wrote "Four Queens" in 1997 and has enjoyed his three weeks rehearsing it in Omaha. Beasley hired him through a mutual friend. *************************************************************************
As time goes by, it's clear acting is a birthright for the Beasley family, that talented clan of thespians is fast-evolving into a mainstay of the Omaha theater scene.John Beasley long ago forged his way in Omaha, scoring dramatic triumphs in the 1970s and '80s at many local theaters and later, outside of Omaha, on the small and big screen. Now, after all of that, he has returned to his hometown to give back to the community that gave to him, and this time he has two sons, Tyrone and Michael Beasley, to help. In 2002 John founded the John Beasley Theater & Workshop, sharing space with the South Omaha YMCA in the La Fern Williams Center at 3010 Q St. Since then the three men have worked to together to hold workshops for local actors and recruited topnotch talent from outside of Omaha to showcase African-American plays. Like Father, Like Sons It's been 20 years since this family patriarch made the leap from acting on community and regional theater stages to character parts on television and in feature films. His film roles include small but telling turns in the feel-good Rudy and the intense The Apostle. Even with such successes, the realities of screen acting dictated being an itinerant artist and forced him to go wherever the next gig was. That is, until he landed the recurring role of Irv Harper on the WB series, "Everwood." Now that he has "a regular job," he's devoting much of his time away from the "Everwood" set to the South Omaha theater that not only bears his name, but also stirs fond memories and renews old ties. The theater is the site of the old Center Stage where Beasley first flexed his acting muscles. Just as it celebrates diversity in plays by and about minorities, the John Beasley Theater is all about alternative voices and faces. As the sons follow in the shadow of their father, they're treading some of the ground he once trod. Like his father before him, Tyrone performed at the Goodman Theatre in Chicago. And Michael was signed to his first film by Ruben Cannon, the same producer and casting agent who linked John to his first national acting jobs - the ABC movie Amerika and the ABC-TV series "Brewster Place." John, a veteran of the boards and the bright lights, is the mentor and role model whose strong, centered, accessible presence is something each of his sons or, for that matter, any actor, aspires to obtain. Despite some formal training, he's largely self-taught and draws on personal life experience. He's been everything from a jock and jitney driver to a radio-TV host to a longshoreman and janitor. He uses these personal stories to develop telling and human characters on stage and screen. In addition to occasionally acting at the JBT, John serves as the theater's executive director and artistic director, and most notably directed its inaugural production of August Wilson's Fences, in which Beasley starred as Troy Maxson. He and Tyrone also teach the workshops that are part of the JBT's mission of developing a pool of trained actors for future shows. Growing Talent "You have to think about it and feel it first before you can express the truth about it. You don't just rattle lines off. Method actors call it being in the moment. And this is what we instill in our people," John said, referring to the JBT workshops. "The first thing we tell them is, 'Get out of your head. Get away from' - I did it this way last night and the audience really loved me, so I'm going to repeat the same thing tonight. Then you never grow. If you want to do that head thing, you can go someplace else because we're trying to set a certain standard here with believability." For Jitney, Beasley brought in ringers in the figures of professional actors Anthony Chisholm ("Oz" and Beloved) and Willis Burks (Chronicles of Riddick: Escape from Butcher Bay), but the rest of the cast was local - an indication of the talent here. According to John and Tyrone, an ever-expanding base of minority talent is being identified and groomed through the JBT workshop program. "I see young people coming in who are going to do very well. When they come out of my theater, I want them to have that confidence they can work anywhere. That's exactly why we have the workshop - to give them the confidence," John said. An Omaha Benson High School grad, Tyrone earned an art degree from the University of Nebraska at Omaha. He did some modeling. Then, after getting hooked on acting at the Center Stage, he took private drama lessons in Chicago. Following his father's footsteps, Tyrone scored a coup when cast by the legendary theater director Peter Sellars in The Merchant of Venice at the Goodman Theatre. Blissfully ignorant of Sellars' world-class reputation as an enfant terrible genius, Tyrone found himself acting with future heavyweight Philip Seymour Hoffman in a production that eventually toured Europe. "I don't know how my audition would have went if I knew who [Sellars] was. I might have been more nervous," Tyrone said. After Chicago, he attended California State University, Long Beach, where he acted with the California Repertory Company. "I also worked out of Los Angeles doing readings and worked behind the scenes as a film production assistant," Tyrone said. "That was a great experience." Although Jitney was the first time all three Beasleys acted together, John and Tyrone, who co-stared with Michael, collaborated as producer and director on the JBT's rendering of Wilson's Two Trains Running in 2003. Years earlier, Michael portrayed Biff opposite his father's Willie Loman in a Center Stage mounting of Death of a Salesman. While taking vastly different paths to the craft they now share, each articulates a similar passion for acting and its sense of discovery. After his father launched the JBT, Tyrone was enlisted in 2003 to help get the fledgling theater on a solid foundation. Michael, however, took a different path and aside from that one time on stage with his dad in Death of a Salesman, he was hell-bent on a career in athletics, not dramatics. After making all-state his senior season at Omaha Central High School, he earned Juco hoops honors at McCook Community College before playing for the University of Texas-Arlington. He played more than 10 years of pro ball in the United States and abroad, mostly in Latin America. Off-seasons, he lived in Atlanta, where he still makes his home with his wife and kids. Then the acting bug bit again. His first post-hoops gig came as a last minute replacement. "The way that went down is I was deciding to get back into acting when some people fell out of the Two Trains cast, and Tyrone called and said, 'Can you come up here and do this play tomorrow?' So, I came up, and it was a great experience. It whet my appetite to pursue it further," Michael said. "I try to absorb everything like a sponge and feed off the stuff my father does to prepare. I've been able to draw on the experience I had in the play and bring it to the film projects I'm in now." Answering a calling "I feel like I was definitely influenced because my father did it, but I feel like it's chosen me more than anything. It's a calling," Tyrone said. "Of course, my father was an influence," Michael said. "A lot of people think I'm in acting now because my father's really successful at it, but our father never pushed us. It's just something I chose. "It fills a void after basketball. I can't play anymore at a high level, but with acting - the sky's the limit. It's something else to be passionate about. Besides, I'm not a nine-to-five guy. And I love the challenge." In John's opinion, no one chooses acting. "It chooses you," he said. "We talk about [acting] a lot. It's part of our lives." For someone as accomplished as John, tweaking his craft is a little more delicate and subtle process. The goal is to never stop growing, which becomes a trickier process as an actor gains more experience. "When you get to a certain level, there's only so much that you can do as far as the technique of acting," Tyrone said. "But with each character, it's different and you have to approach each character differently and hopefully learn about yourself and see the world from someone else's point of view. That's what we, as actors, are basically trying to do. So growth on a certain level comes from that." Tyrone said his goal is to achieve the kind of unadorned truth that his father finds in everything from a classic soliloquy to a modern rant. "We're trying to make it seem conversational, so that as the audience you're eavesdropping on people. Just talking, not acting. That's what we're trying to get to." For Tyrone, the appeal of drama is storytelling and trying to portray stories truthfully. "Drama's like holding a mirror up to life," Tyrone said. "I like paying attention to the details and colors of life. My job is to explore that and, using my imagination, to take it to the fullest." Looking to build on the momentum of Jitney, John Beasley's commissioned noted UNO Theater director Doug Paterson to direct Lorraine Hansberry's Raisin in the Sun. Paterson and company will workshop the play six weeks before it opens. Beasley's also working with his agent to help round out the cast with name actors. "That's a really good connection to have for putting some really nice ensembles together," Beasley said. "We have a lot of talent in Omaha, but sometimes it helps to bring in some professionals. I think it's good for the theater, good for the audiences and good for our actors here." A Raisin in the Sun will open Sept. 17 and run through Oct. 10 at the John Beasley Theater, 3010 Q St. For ticket information and times, call 444.3446.
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Omaha stage, screen and TV actor John Beasley has invested a lot of time and energy in his John Beasley Theater & Workshop.
The payoff is evident in a splendid production of August Wilson 's "Two Trains Running," directed by Beasley's son, Tyrone. Wilson opened this show at the Yale Repertory Theater in 1990 with Samuel L. Jackson and Laurence Fishburne. In 1992 the show went to Broadway, with a cast that included Fishburne, Roscoe Lee Browne and Al White. Beasley's cast doesn't have to take a back seat to anyone. Full of juicy roles, "Two Trains Running" is as well acted and enjoyable as any show in this 2003-04 Omaha theater season.
The director, Tyrone Beasley, is superb as Sterling , a likable down-and-outer, fresh from prison, with empty pockets and an eye for Risa, the waitress at Memphis Lee's diner in a decaying Pittsburgh neighborhood, circa 1969. Another Beasley son, Michael, is completely convincing in another lead role as Memphis , the exasperated owner of the restaurant, who faces a forced sale when the city takes over his property under eminent domain authority. Wilson manages to present vivid characters, all with their own stories, but also to paint a background picture of African-American concerns in a Rust Belt urban area in the late '60s. Above all, the show is funny. The dialogue, which rings true, bubbles with mirth. The all-black cast tosses around the "N-word," but never with malice. In fact, despite the humor, the play is permeated with a sad air, a sense of loss in a world dominated by gambling, poverty and good and bad luck. The two trains running are, symbolically, life and death. Across the street is a funeral parlor run by one of the few affluent folks around, Mr. West (forcefully and delightfully realized by Nate Butler). West, like some of the other characters, offers plenty of folk wisdom, though he is topped in that category by a restaurant regular, Holloway, a 65-year-old gent who rambles on in a slightly hurt, but not angry, fashion. Charles Galloway Sr. scores well in this part. The excellent cast also includes Kelcey Watson as Wolf, a numbers runner; Julie Adams as Risa; and Cager Eaton Haynes as the mentally disturbed Hambone. The set by Chris Gray, in the LaFern Williams Center (South Omaha YMCA), is a little gem, complete with jukebox, counter and stools, front window and telephone booth. As eloquent about poverty as some of Eugene O'Neill's plays, this work, a gift from the Beasley family, is a gem. Don't miss it.
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Thursday March 13, 2003
Ain't Misbehavin' 444-3446
The Joint Is Jumpin' Thomas "Fats" Waller's Ain't Misbehavin' opened as a limited-run cabaret act on Feb. 8, 1978 , but was so well-received that it soon moved to Broadway, running 1,604 performances. Recreating the atmosphere of a 1930s nightclub in Harlem , it was nominated for five Tony Awards, winning for Best Musical, and received the New York Drama Critics' Circle Award and a Special Citation from the Off-Broadway Obie Awards. Six years after it closed, it was revived in 1988 by lyricist Richard Maltby Jr. and ran another 184 performances. This much-lauded musical revue, which contains such songs as "T'Ain't Nobody's Business If I Do," "Honeysuckle Rose," "The Joint is Jumpin'" and "It's a Sin to Tell a Lie," will open March 28 in the John Beasley Theater located inside the LaFern Williams Center at 30th and Q streets.
Who Joe Turner is and how he affects the characters of "Joe Turner's Come and Gone" are not revealed right away by playwright August Wilson. In fact, by the time Wilson introduces the name in his script, theatergoers are long past wondering about the title, caught up in the many threads Wilson has thrown out in the first act that he weaves into a beautiful whole by the stunning climax. "Joe Turner," one of a cycle of Wilson plays examining African-American life throughout the 1900s, is set in 1911 at the house of Seth and Bertha Holly. The Hollys' Pittsburgh home is a way station for blacks heading north to find new lives - or perhaps to reconnect with old ones. Into the Hollys' home stalks Herald Loomis, a man who has traveled from the deep South with his young daughter in search of his missing wife. Themes of reconnection and of travel - "the road" is a frequent reference - dominate "Joe Turner's Come and Gone," which initially appears to be a fairly rambling piece - an array of character studies - before Wilson begins pulling it all together. In the first act, while the questions of who Loomis is and what he intends to do hang over the proceedings, the real interest is watching Wilson's characters interact. This production has a cast that makes that process captivating. Presented by the John Beasley Theater and Workshop, "Joe Turner's Come and Gone" is directed by Donald Douglass, the acting artistic director of Chicago's Free Street Theatre. He has cast Jonathan Wilson as Seth, the blustering but good-hearted proprietor of the boarding house. Wilson brings a great deal of humor to the role while consistently presenting Seth as a man of both vision and conviction. Evelyn Bullock plays his even-tempered wife, Bertha, who serves as a kind of den mother to the tenants who wander in and out of their home. As Loomis, Tyrone Beasley (John's son) is a foreboding figure, dominating the stage, wearing a crumpled hat and a long coat that seem designed to disguise him. Seth takes a dislike to him almost immediately, but audiences are more likely to be intrigued. Herald Loomis is clearly the heart of the play, a dispossessed man trying to reconnect with some portion of his old life, if only to discover what his new life can be. A sense of impermanence hangs over several of the residents of the boarding house, with Seth and Bertha providing both anchor and example. That impermanence also contributes to the question of what Herald's plans are exactly, and Beasley's performance gives the audience a Herald who seems both dangerous and sympathetic. The cast as a whole is excellent, making the most of Wilson's often-poetic dialogue. V.L. Alston stands out as Seth's friend, who offers both charms and advice in the manner of a spiritual counselor. The play speeds by, in part because Douglass has cut the role of Reuben, a young neighbor boy who befriends Herald's shy daughter. In the end, Wilson leaves a few questions unanswered. But there is no question that if it can continue to mount productions of this quality, the John Beasley Theater is on its way to being one of the premiere venues in town. |
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