Medea at the Greenway Station through May 30
Do NOT miss The NOLA Project’s gripping production of Medea, Euripides’ still all-too-relevant 2,500-year-old tragedy, at the Greenway Station.
Do NOT miss Natalie Boyd’s phenomenal performance as Medea, the granddaughter of the sungod Helios, who is cast aside for another woman by Jason (a terrific Jon Greene) of Argonaut fame.
Jon Greene and Natalie Boyd in Medea (photo by Jillian Desirée Oliveras Maldonado)
Do NOT miss Gab Reisman’s powerful direction and a featured cast that add distinctive portrayals of the other characters in Alistair Elliot’s superb adaptation.
(This is a merely place holder for a full review that will appear here after I return from out of town, by which time this vital production will have closed.)
[For more information and tickets, go to https://www.nolaproject.com/medea]
It’s been a month since I saw The NOLA Project’s Medea, and unlike so many other shows I’ve seen, I still remember it vividly, a high testament to the production’s immediacy, keen vision, and overall general excellence.
If today, Euripides’ canonical drama of a woman, who forsook her country, took up with the enemy’s military leader, and bore him children only to find herself abandoned by him for the king’s daughter, can come off like a tabloid tale or a very high-class soap opera, so be it. In Alistair Elliot’s splendid adaptation, the dialog remains formal but conversational; I especially liked Medea’s comment to Jason, “Your words are mouthfuls of rubbish.”
Under Gab Reisman’s sharp direction, the narrative proceeded relentlessly, tension was maintained (no small feat if one knows how things are gonna turn out), and, wisely, comic touches were sprinkled throughout. Reisman managed to give this ancient tale a ritualistic feel while also limning a tragic portrait of a disintegrating partnership.
From Medea’s first line, “I want to die”, Natalie Boyd was astonishing. Passionate and justifiably mad that she is alone in a foreign land where “the joy of life is gone”, Boyd brought out all of Medea’s colors–noble, pitiable, intelligent, rueful, insightful, with occasional flashes of humor–but never overplayed it. If she/Euripides tells us what Medea will do, Boyd/Reisman kept us on the edge of our seats wondering if she really would go through with it.
Jon Greene made for a commanding and suitably arrogant Jason. Greene’s Argonaut leader was a bro who thought (a) he was always right & knew just what he was doing and (b) could get away with anything; his comeuppance, as terrible as it is, was satisfying. At one point, when Medea and Jason were in the midst of heated argument, Reisman had them embrace and kiss passionately. If such an action borders on the cliche, here, compellingly acted by Boyd and Greene, it showed, briefly and essentially, the sexual chemistry that once flowed between them, now reduced to merely an ember.
The rest of the cast, like Boyd and Greene, all spoke their lines beautifully. Aria Jackson, as a regal Creon, Jason’s father-in-law, was rightfully afraid for his daughter’s well-being. Megan Whittle delivered Euripides’ horrifying eleventh-hour monolog about what happened in the palace with great conviction. Roney Lee Jones was stern but obviously caring as Medea’s sons’ tutor; chicly dressed in leather and knee-high boots, she was the kind of teacher that fathers come to visit for parent/teacher conferences. As Medea’s friend Aegeus, Robinson J. Cyprian nicely brought momentary, and appreciated, levity to the proceedings. Together, these four actors shared the duties of the Chorus with proper stateliness while avoiding the trap of woodenness. Wearing a blood-red outfit, Kristin Witt contributed her usual talents as a younger-than-usual Nurse.
Tastefully outfitting the Chorus in neutral colors, Baylee Robertson costumed the other characters in appropriately detailed garments. Joan Long evocatively lit the Greenway Station, never an easy task, adding to the dramatic atmosphere.
I would just quibble with composers Morgan Orion + Alex Pianovich’s music which seemed too peppy for this tale. And while I admire the acting abilities of the members of the Chorus, singers they’re not; at least I don’t think the abundance of flat notes was intentional. Reisman’s only staging fumble was having Medea’s sons play an endless and distracting game of hide’n’seek during their featured scene; I would tend to think they’d be somewhat more attuned to their mother’s situation. But, as said, quibbles in an otherwise flawless production.
For those who missed this Medea, I pity you as those who saw it shall remember it for a long, long time.
Carmen Miranda: Samba in Technicolor at the WWII Museum’s Stage Door Canteen
Carmen Miranda’s fantastical life story, from working in a boutique in Rio de Janeiro to Hollywood’s highest-paid entertainer in 1945, deserves a big splashy Broadway musical. Or a Busby Berkeley-esque cinematic treatment. Or a Douglas Sirk-like melodrama full of saturated emotions perhaps directed by (at the risk of conflating all Latin American cultures into one, something Miranda had to endure in Hollywood) one of those Oscar-winning Mexican auteurs.
She deserves better, tho, than Carmen Miranda: Samba in Technicolor that recently ran at the WWII Museum’s Stage Door Canteen, a Wikipedia-inspired presentation filled with great music but zero drama, courtesy of Denise Altobello’s cliched and bromide-filled script.
We heard, to repetitious effect, how Hollywood wanted to keep Miranda in the “Brazilian bombshell” box and how she tried to resist. We never saw this dramatized in any meaningful way, though.
As Miranda, Cristina Perez Edmunds sang well but, as is often the case in these bio musicals, it’s difficult to conjure up the raw charisma of the original star. Geovane Santos led an excellent band but his (occasionally flat) singing and wan line readings could have been bettered.
Cristina Perez Edmunds, Geovane Santos (both at right) and the cast of Carmen Miranda: Samba in Technicolor
Carmen Miranda is a fascinating person for many reasons. I hope someday there’ll be an extravaganza worthy of her.
The Night Fiona Flawless Went Mad at Le Cabaret May 29-June 1
[Trey Ming’s The Night Fiona Flawless Went Mad returns to Le Cabaret May 29-June 1. Here are excerpts from my review of 2024’s presentation. Gregory Theiss directs this production. Laveau Contraire and Prince Octavian reprise their roles joined by Jeez Loueez and Sebastian E’toile.]
Trey Ming’s musical The Night Fiona Flawless Went Mad has triumphantly returned to The AllWays Lounge where it premiered five years ago. When it debuted in 2019, I wrote admiringly that “if it started off as mere camp, by the end, the show had deepened into an acute portrait of a troubled soul.” With a new cast it starts off less campy than before and finishes on a happier, more upbeat note, but provides just as much gender-bending theatrical pleasure now as it did originally.
Fiona Flawless tells the tale of a gorgeous drag queen, Fiona, who has turned herself in for a double homicide; she and her psychiatrist then search for why she did what she did. The answer involves a volatile love triangle, but to disclose more than that could involve spoilers and I wouldn’t want to lessen any bit of the mystery that Ming has crafted so well.
What I can say is that Fiona Flawless addresses complexities of gender and identity in not your typical ways, always a plus. And that Ming playfully incorporates neologisms like “bakeress” and “fornicatoress” (or was it “fornicatress”?)). And that as playwright as well as director, Ming encourages his cast to break the fourth wall–sometimes scripted, sometimes not–to deliciously fun effect.
Ming has provided a score of 10 songs with intricate melodies that seemingly feel like they arise organically from the characters and their situations rather than being superimposed on them willy-nilly as is the case in so many musicals these days including quite a few award-winning ones. For example, in Fiona’s second act, My Kitchen is a fabulous spat for two divas that would not be out of place in a Handel opera as two of his warring queens go at each other.
The cast of four, whether singing solo, in duets or group numbers, all deliver beautiful vocals that allow the audience to hear all of Ming’s witty, intelligent lyrics.
Bedecked in diamonds and looking utterly glamourous, Laveau Contraire, one of NOLA’s top tier drag performers, proves she can do more, much more, than lip sync, dance, and reveal layer after layer of wigs & outfits (which is already quite the grand achievement). As the title character in Fiona, not only does she display a lovely and powerful singing voice, but great talent as an actress and comedienne, knowingly and expertly walking the fine line between sincerity and irony.
As Fiona’s psychiatrist Dr. Fiddle (or is it “Piddle”?), Prince Octavian, looking a bit like Kate McKinnon as Rudy Giuliani on Saturday Night Live, slyly embodies an older, tweedy sort of man without ever overdoing it, and scores with a terrific aria about sexual confusion. The Prince is quite an adept ad libber as well.
Laveau Contraire and Prince Octavian in The Night Fiona Flawless Went Mad
Although I have some dramaturgical quibbles with the book, its singularly engaging story holds your attention, more than can be said about a lot of recent musicals, while its buoyant, sophisticated score and off-kilter sensibility struck me as a cross between two off-Broadway hits, The Fantastiks and Vampire Lesbians of Sodom.
The Night Fiona Flawless Went Mad may not be flawless…but it’s pretty darn close.
[For tickets and further information, go to https://www.eventbrite.com/e/the-night-fiona-flawless-went-mad-tickets-1988635569521?msockid=352e9f325ea562e232ea882a5f3263ec]
