Category: 2011 Reviews
The Face of Freedom and Struggle
|Betontanc and Umka.lv presents|
|Show Your Face!|
|Written by members of Bentontanc and Umka.lv
Directed by Matjaž Pograjc
at MCA Stage, 220 E. Chicago Ave. (map)
through Jan 16 | tickets: $28 | more info
Reviewed by K.D. Hopkins
I admit that I was left in awe of the Betontanc and Umka.lv production of Show Your Face! at the Museum of Contemporary Art. I was expecting something out of the ordinary because of the origins of the companies presenting. Slovenia and Latvia were mysteries when I was growing up. They were obscured by the politics of the dreaded ‘Iron Curtain’ and came into my consciousness in the 90’s with the fall of the Berlin Wall and unrest in the Balkans. This energetic and gripping production exposes how much we all are alike in our struggle for individual freedom, no matter the ideology of our origins.
Show Your Face is a multi-disciplinary production involving mainly dance, music, theatre, and puppetry. A faceless individual fights against the larger collective trying to possess him and his ideas. “The Faceless One” is portrayed by a child’s snowsuit used as a puppet. The scale of the snowsuit as a puppet gives an animated quality to the entire production. The human interactions take on a surreal quality that play on the psyche in a convoluted manner. None of the players seem to be human as a result – they are all emotion, enveloping the various manipulations of emotion: anger, fear, sex drive, and need for companionship or camaraderie.
Umka.lv is the collective that performs on the stage. They are the acting and puppetry part of the production in collaboration with Betontanc (Concrete Dance) a Slovenian dance theatre company. The collaboration is brilliant and terrifying all at once. No one is immune to the terrors of war and oppression these days. Water boarding and other tortures have been amply demonstrated for all to see. The question is: Do we really see it? Do we have empathy? The Faceless One is on the run constantly. The baby blue of the snowsuit has a gray and worn quality to it and the excellent puppetry gives a breathless and anxious animation to the Faceless One. The emotions are drawn in, and there are audible gasps in the audience when Faceless One is tortured. He is forced to drink liquor, clothes-lined with an iron bar, nearly drowned in a bucket, forced to stay awake, and in a particularly disturbing scene raped by a red masked seductress.
There are direct jabs at the collusion of religion and government in a scene with a priest and the Faceless One. The cast screams at the audience to tell the truth (meaning, in my opinion, see the truth and don’t turn away). The choreography element in Show Your Face! is raw and fluid. The physicality of the actors is called upon to project ragged emotion on one hand and to keep the action flowing seamlessly at the same time. There is a scene where the dancers become one organism and fall into an abyss that evolves into a stick-figure parade being swallowed by a giant red wave. Eventually the forced mating of the Faceless One and the red masked seductress results in a birth scene that is funny and difficult to watch because of the result.
Ugis Vitins and Silence provide the musical accompaniment. The words are sung in English and are a vital contribution to the narrative of Show Your Face!. Vitins’ voice is eerie and plaintive in the manner of David Byrne, and one passage pays tribute to Iggy Pop’s ‘The Passenger’. The musicians play piano, brass, percussion, and electronic embellishment. It is haunting, melodic and quite beautiful.
Show Your Face! is part of the Museum of Contemporary Art’s Global Stage Series. Performance companies from all over the world bring their collective cultural sensibilities and individual interpretations of theatricality to Chicago. These are companies that may not get the same exposure of those with larger budgets or more standard interpretations. Show Your Face! is written collectively by Betontanc and Umka.lv, directed by Matjaž Pograjc and producted by Bunker.
Take a look and take the time to check out the amazing theatre resource that is the MCA Stage Series. Highly Recommended!
An ardent Arden blooms beautifully
|Chicago Shakespeare Theatre|
|As You Like It|
|Written by William Shakespeare
Directed by Gary Griffin
at CST’s Courtyard Theatre, Navy Pier (map)
thru March 6 | tickets: $44-$75 | more info
Reviewed by Lawrence Bommer
Through disguise or intrigue, Shakespeare’s driven lovers test each other until they finally earn their fifth-act wedding. In As You Like It, an unconquered forest is the neutral playground for the romantic reconnoiters that will bind the exiled lovers Rosalind and Orlando. In this shelter for simple innocence, artificial privilege defers to natural merit.
If love, joy or melancholy were to vanish from the world, you could reconstruct them from Shakespeare’s merriest and wisest comedy. The play’s genius is its artful dispersion of the good and, later, bad characters from the corrupt court to the enchanting trees of Arden. There the Bard imagines the perfect play–and proving ground for Rosalind, strategically disguised as the bisexual cupbearer Ganymede, to test her Orlando by teaching him how to woo the woman he takes for a man.
Sensing how Rosalind’s high spirits and good humor could overwhelm even this teeming forest, Shakespeare balances her natural worth against the snobbish clown Touchstone, the darkly cynical Jaques and the sluttish goatherd Audrey. By play’s end every kind of attachment–romantic, earthy, impetuous and exploitive–is embodied by the four (mis)matched couples who join in a monumental mating.
All any revival needs to do is trust the text and here it triumphs. Vaguely set in the Empire era, Gary Griffin’s perfectly tuned three-hour staging moves effortlessly from the artificial wood façade of the bad Duke’s cold palace to Arden’s blossom-rich, Pandora-like arboreal refuge. Over both the city and country hangs a mysterious pendulum, tolling out the seconds without revealing the time.
But then time stands still here: The refugees in these woods have been displaced by the pursuit of power. Very good, then: It gives them all the more leisure for four very different couples to reinvent love from the inside out with all the unmatched and dynamically diverse eloquence that the Bard could give them,
Griffin is an actors’ director and he’s assembled an unexceptionable ensemble as true to their tale as their wonderful writer could wish. Though a tad older than Orlando is usually depicted, Matt Schwader delivers the non-negotiable spontaneity of a late-blooming first love. Above all, he’s a good listener and here he must be: Kate Fry’s electric Rosalind fascinates with every quicksilver, gender-shifting mood swing, capricious whim, resourceful quip or lyrical rhapsody. Fry also plays her as postmaturely young, a woman who was happy enough to be a maiden but won’t become a wife without a complete guarantee of reciprocal adoration. All her testing of Orlando as “Ganymede” is both flirtatious fun and deadly earnest. It would be all too easy to watch only her throughout and see this again for the other performances.
The contrasting characters are a litany of excellence, with even the supporting actors attractive despite any lack of lines. Kevin Gudahl’s noble exile of a banished duke, Matt DeCaro’s elaborately evil one, Phillip James Brannon’s flippant and almost anachronistic clown Touchstone, Chaon Cross’ pert and well-grounded Celia, Patrick Clear’s dignified bumpkin, Steve Haggard’s infatuated Silvius and Hillary Clemens as his less than adorable Audrey, Dennis Kelly’s venerable Adam—these are masterful portrayals drawn from life as much as literature.
Shakespeare’s most brilliant creation is the anti-social Jaques, who darkly balances the springtime frolic of Shakespeare’s unstoppable love plots. Oddly social as he waxes with misanthropic melancholy, Jaques is cursed to see the sad end of every story: He can never enjoy the happy ignorance beginning and middle. Ross Lehman gives him the right enthusiastic isolation. He’s dour but never dire.
Arden is a forest well worth escaping to and never leaving. The most regretful part of the play is happily never seen, when this enchanted company must return from these miracle-making groves to the workaday world. But that’s just how the audience feels leaving the Courtyard Theatre, reluctantly relinquishing so much romance.
Drury Lane’s ‘Spamalot’ is a merry night of dancing and singing!
|Drury Lane Theatre presents|
|Book and Lyrics by Eric Idle
Music by John Du Prez
Directed by William Osetek
at Drury Lane Theatre, Oak Brook (map)
through March 6 | tickets: $31-$45 | more info
Reviewed by Allegra Gallian
Monty Python began as a British comedy group that created the television show Monty Python’s Flying Circus. Ensemble members included Graham Chapman, John Cleese, Terry Gilliam, Eric Idle, Terry Jones, and Michael Palin. The success of the show led to feature films including “Monty Python and the Holy Grail,” which is loosely based on the legend of King Arthur and his knights of the round table. With its witty and sometimes absurdist humor, Monty Python became a cultural phenomenon and “Holy Grail” was the basis for the musical Spamalot.
The set for Spamalot at Drury Lane Theatre resembles a traditional castle, with a castle gate center stage flanked by large wooden castle doors on other side, surrounded by stone bricks and gated windows. As the show progresses, scene changes are seamless and quick, never disrupting the momentum or action of the show.
Spamalot opens with an historian (Jackson Evans) explaining the history of Britain. He’s initially both relatable and charming, instantly pulling the audience into the action. The story the historian relates then comes to life as King Arthur (David Kortemeier) enters. Arthur is searching for knights for his round table and is traveling throughout England in search of them. He puts together what seems like somewhat of a motley crew consisting of Sir Lancelot (John Sanders), Sir Robin (Adam Pelty), Sir Galahad (Sean Allan Krill) and Sir Bedevere (Bradley Mott).
All of the actors are fully charismatic and bring a ton of characterization to their parts: Robin (Pelty) is sweet and funny with his fear of actual fighting. Galahad (Krill) is charming but not irritating with his pretty boy looks and demeanor. Lancelot (Sanders) is entertaining with his tough boy act to hide his hidden interests and Bedevere (Mott) works well to round out to the cast.
Not only is the acting stellar, but the singing is strong and clear and the music is just fun. Each actor’s range is suited to their character, allowing their singing talents to really shine. This is especially the case with The Lady of the Lake (Gina Milo). Milo’s voice is stunning and powerful, and her ability to hit so many runs in the music is captivating. The only minor complaint is that, on occasion, vibratos in the cast are a bit too heavy.
As a show with a triple threat, the dancing is also well choreographed and shows of the dancing talents of the cast. Minus a few missed landings and mishaps, the dancing is quite spectacular, especially Patsy’s tap number (Matthew Crowle) during “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life.” It’s clear that Crowle has a talent for it and he shows it off spectacularly.
Once the crew is assembled, they are given a task directly from God: find the Holy Grail. With this task at hand, the group, led by Arthur, goes in search of the Grail. Encountering various other knights and obstacles, the action flows quickly with a lively energy, pulling our attention towards the stage. The actors play up the comedy, doing well with the laugh lines and the hilarity of the writing.
Spamalot is a fun-filled, hilarious show that fits for anyone who loves Monty Python and the tale of the Holy Grail. Highly recommended!
Spamalot plays at Drury Lane Theatre, 100 Drury Lane, Oak Brook, IL, through March 6. Tickets are $31 to $45 with lunch/dinner packages ranging from $45.75 to $68. Student and senior prices available. Ticket can be purchased through the box office by calling 630-530-0111.
good design ≠ good machine
|Trap Door Theatre presents|
|Written by Heiner Müller
Translated by Carl Weber
Directed by Max Traux
at Trap Door Theatre, 1655 W. Cortland (map)
through Feb 12 | tickets: $20 | more info
Reviewed by Barry Eitel
As one of the leading figures in postmodern literature, Heiner Müller is nearly as widely influential as fellow German Bertolt Brecht. However, Müller, with ingenious methods of chopping up and pureeing language and story, never gets the same exposure on this side of the ocean as that master of alienation, Brecht. Some of this might come with time, considering that Brecht wrote about 30-50 years before Müller. American audiences may also have a hard time stomaching Müller’s intentionally entangled, muddy hairballs of non-linear narrative, which make Brecht’s plots look relatively straightforward.
Director Max Traux and Trap Door Theatre have a hard time dealing with Müller’s deliberate mess with their production of Hamletmachine, the playwright’s 1977 opus. The piece riffs on both Shakespeare and machines, slamming together Hamlet with 20th Century existentialist questions. Traux conceptualizes the 9-page play (!) as a rock opera of sorts, turning several of Müller’s phrases into musical catchphrases. Although the page length seems miniscule, it’s a very dense nine pages. Müller once staged a 7-hour production of Hamlet, featuring Hamletmachine as the play-within-a-play. At Trap Door, Traux spreads the text among three Hamlets, two Ophelias, and a Gertrude for good measure, further splintering the piece. The droning music, fierce acting, and heavy choreography impart weightiness, but it’s hard to discern much substance from Trap Door’s bloated production. We see lots of horrified expressions and hear plenty of pained soliloquies, but I was never sure exactly why anything was happening.
Müller and Traux are assuming that the audience is fairly familiar with Shakespeare’s original, arguably the most important work of literature in human history (we may have to reconsider after Spiderman: Turn Off the Dark is published….). Here, Hamlet (either Antonio Brunetti, Rich Logan, or David Steiger) mulls over his usual philosophical inquiries while also posing questions about modern-day revolution and art. Müller really shows off his genius when placing Hamlet’s fundamentally human dilemmas in a contemporary context—“Tomorrow has been cancelled” is an oft-repeated line through the piece.
The cast does a noteworthy job breathing life into Traux’s bizarre, fluorescent-lit world. Rich Logan’s limber, ponytailed version of Hamlet is the most interesting to watch, even when hunkered down in the aisles and gleefully eyeing the action occurring on-stage. Tiffany Joy Ross and Sadie Rogers present two very different characterizations of Ophelia, adding further complexity to the piece. It was obvious the actors were all very committed, but the performances lacked clarity. One can’t expect defined motivations and objectives from such an expressionist extravaganza, but choices should make sense in some way. In Trap Door’s manic production, a lot of the meaning soars over the audience’s heads.
Jonathan Guillen and Nicholas Tonozzi provide an eerie soundscape for Traux’s hellish vision, with a focus on repetition a la Philip Glass. Costume designer Nevena Todorovic creates fascinating concoctions that combine Elizabethan styles with strong doses of steampunk. In general, the design does a fantastic job of evoking a specific mood (a bleak, unhappy mood), a specificity the rest of the production yearns for.
The best moment of the play occurs when Hamlet #3, David Steiger, gives a monologue describing a populist uprising. There is no singing or choreography, just an actor addressing the audience. Steiger gives the audience something to cling onto amid the storm. Even though that moment doesn’t gel with the rest of the play stylistically, it is the most powerful.
Trap Door’s failing, noble as it may be, is that the production is overburdened conceptually. Müller’s script is already a puzzle. In production, the confusion should be unraveled somewhat, not wound tighter. Traux’s vision of the play may be brilliant, but it doesn’t read.
Composer & Sound Designer: Jonathan Guillen / Production Designer: Richard Norwood / Stage Manager: Barry Branfrod / Costume Designer: Nevena Todorovic / Graphic and Video Designer: Michal Janicki / Production Manager: Caitlin Boylan / Makeup Design: Zsófia Ötvös / Music Collaborator: Nicholas Tonozzi
Boho fills stage with profound, meticulous performances
|The Bohemian Theatre Ensemble presents|
|The Elephant Man|
|Written by Bernard Pomerance
Directed by June Eubanks
at Theater Wit, 1229 W. Belmont (map)
through Feb 6 | tickets: $25 | more info
Review by Paige Listerud
Just what is the price for belonging and acceptance? What if one can never fulfill the requirements for being part of the society of the human race, no matter how gentle, law-abiding and meritorious one is, no matter what efforts others make to provide some integration? Bernard Pomerance’s The Elephant Man is unique in that it takes these issues to absolute extremes and forces us to see ourselves through its funhouse mirror. Boho Theatre has mounted an elegant, stately and psychologically mature production at Theatre Wit. June Eubanks’ direction adheres to the minimalist aesthetic and self-consciousness theatricality the play was born in, crystallizing poetically profound moments that elevate language much in the same way that John Merrick (Mike Tepeli) describes the effect of the uplifting architecture of St. Philip’s church.
John Merrick, dubbed the ‘Elephant Man’, and his place in late Victorian society, is uplifted for our gaze. He is a man who can never stop being a spectacle; his life, trapped in outrageous physical deformity, is constantly at the mercy of what the rest of his fellow humans see and suppose of him. I can praise the excellence with which Tepeli assumes Merrick’s form, virtually pretzel-twisting himself into character at the beginning of each scene, but more excellent is the way he captures Merrick’s childlike, innocent acceptance of himself, of those around him and his lot in life. Just as powerful are Merrick’s moments questioning, from his bath, Treves’ notions of established order or the rush of intense emotion upon Merrick once he shakes Mrs. Kendall’s (Cameron Feagin) hand for the first time–or loosing her, on Treves’ orders. Tepeli has completely mastered his role, with assurance the audience can relax into watching how others respond to him.
Likewise, Steve O’Connell’s Treves has all smooth and put-together bearing of a clueless do-gooder just beginning to realize how dubious his mercy towards Merrick is and how little he can do to alter the inequities between them. His relationship with Merrick seamlessly sets into motion Treves’ re-examination of his culture’s social inequality. When he begins to crack under unbearable conundrums about his real value, as a respected member of the British Empire or as a human being, O’Connell sculpts Treves’ emotional downfall with intricate care–his breakdown in the arms of Bishop How (Thad Azur) is every bit the epiphany it is supposed to be.
The same meticulous care can be witnessed in every aspect of Boho’s production—one of the more scintillating aspects being that the rest of the cast take on multiple roles and carve a unique, distinctive character with each role. Cameron Feagin indelibly etches both the horrified missionary Nurse Sandwich and the charmingly controlled and worldly actress Mrs. Kendall. Zach Bloomfield’s Ross is devastating, particularly when he comes begging to Merrick in the hospital for another crack at being his handler—Bloomfield and Tepeli could conduct an acting masterclass based on that scene study alone. Michael Kingston’s turn as Carr Gomm brings the right note of complacency to his foil for Treves—an administrator quite content to oversee Merrick’s care, so long as his freakish presence keeps the money rolling in to the hospital in donations from the upper classes.
Indeed, the only flaws of the production may be its still awkward scene changes. Jill Vanc’s projection of scene titles and their announcement at each scene purposely heighten The Elephant Man’s theatricality. But upon opening the show still suffered some clumsiness in actors getting on and off through the transition—a problem that could be worked out in the course of the run.
Photo (left to right): Thad Anzur as Bishop How, Michael Kingston as Carr Gomm, Mike Tepeli as John Merrick, Michael Mercier as Lord John, Cameron Feagin as Mrs. Kendall, Steve O’Connell as Frederick Treves. (photo by Peter Coombs / Boho)
Epic tale propelled by audacious scope; uncompromising artistic vision
|Halcyon Theatre presents|
|Written and Directed by Tony Adams
At Greenhouse Theater Center, 2257 N. Lincoln (map)
through Jan 30 | tickets: $18 – $20 | more info
With Trickster, Halcyon Theatre takes on a wildly ambitious epic of ancient Native American lore woven into a contemporary story of survival in apocalyptic world. Written and directed by Halcyon Theatre’s Artistic Director Tony Adams, the piece’s challenging, provocative sprawl of interlocking tales doesn’t always form the most coherent narrative. But what it lacks in clarity, it makes up for in sheer audacious scope and an uncompromising artistic vision.
Within the animal world, the earth’s four-legged creatures battle a dark fate overseen by a cruel Wolf Master. At the same time, a rag-tag group of humans try to stay alive in a burned out landscape where water and food are scarce and marauding soldiers are everywhere. Think ‘The Road’ merged with a highly sexualized take on Aesop’s Fables merged with the intricate Native American belief system of Spirit Animals and you’ve got a good idea as to the ruling aesthetic that governs Trickster.
Adams’ wild ride begins with a slam poet cry to a muse, and a violently worded harbinger of what’s to come. From there, the audience lurches to a fever-dream of a sex scene where in two dimly lit bestial creatures are making the beast with two backs. The illicit union of Swan (Christine Lin) and Coyote (Scott Allen Luke) leads to Coyote being chased to river, where he jumps in and assumes the shape of a stone. Flash-forward 500 years: Coyote has emerged from the river and been restored to his regular shape, only to find a world in ruins.
Competing storylines ensue as the animals attempt to redeem a world that’s a burnt-out husk and the humans try to keep from starving or death or being gang-raped by soldiers. The primary trouble with Trickster lies in the editing process: plots and sub-plots branch out from each other like an endless root system continually stretching out, increasingly tiny branches moving ever farther from the primary trunk. The result is that Trickster becomes compartmentalized – defined by many different storylines that don’t always add up to an emotionally resonant, authentically connected whole. The piece would benefit from some judicious pruning. At almost three hours, Trickster sometimes rambles despite the truly streamlined pacing.
As for Adams’ epic-sized cast of 19, it’s a beautiful thing to behold. This is the rare ensemble that truly reflects Chicago. Despite the best of intentions, the vast majority of theater companies simply don’t look like the city they spring from: Color blind casting doesn’t happen with any degree of regularity in Chicago. Halcyon is fiercely committed to it and with ensembles such as the one in Trickster, offers proof that diversity and excellence are hardly mutually-exclusive concepts. Halcyon is leading towards the time when multi-ethnic casting is the norm and doesn’t even warrant a mention.
There are several beguiling performances within Trickster’s ranks – Yadira Correa is delicious as a predatory owl intent on eating children. Riso Straley absolutely gets the combination of vulnerability borne of irrecoverable heartbreak and untouchable toughness borne of surviving in a battle-hardened world.
Others don’t fare quite so consistently well: It’s difficult to understand much of the dialogue that springs from Fox (Arch Harmon) – his words are muffled, his diction muddy. And despite the cast’s size, there’s some distracting double/triple casting going on: As the final scenes wore on, it felt like the same three or so characters kept getting killed. When an actor gets his throat cut, shows up a few scenes later to have his neck broken, and shows up still later to suffer a fatal gunshot wound, well, the impact of the violence is diminished.
The production benefits greatly from costume designer Izumi Inaba’s work, which is a playful, furry example of creativity triumphing the constraints of a small budget. Her canine creations are the strongest, wild and wooly headpieces that emulate the spirit of the animals the actors are depicting, if not their literal appearance. Adam’ spare, burnt orange scenic design evokes the blistering heat of the great southwest, as well as the ancient art of the cultures who lived there millennia before the white folks showed up.
Halcyon Theatre demands a lot of its audiences. This isn’t the theater of effortless escapism. Instead, Adams takes you down a dark and difficult path, demands that you pay attention and leaves you with a brain overloaded with questions of morality, philosophy and the intricate nature of the human condition.
Featuring: Jenn Adams, Yadira Correa, Delicia Dunham, Rafael Franco, Rudy Galvan, Johnny Garcia, Kamal Hans, Arch Harmon, Arvin Jalandoon, Christine Lin, Scott Allen Luke, Goli Rahimi, Johanna Middleton, Julie Mitre, Ruth Schilling, Riso Straley, Helen Young and Derrick York. (Cast & Production Team bios after the jump)
To get out, you’ll need to use ‘em…or lose ‘em
|The Ruckus Theater presents|
|Escape from the Haltsburg Boys Choir|
|Book/Lyrics by Aaron Dean
Music/Lyrics by Jason Rico
Directed by Daniel Caffrey
at Side Project Theatre, 1439 W. Jarvis (map)
through Jan 30 | tickets: $15-$20 | more info
Reviewed by Katy Walsh
The Emperor requests a performance by the up and coming boys choir. The royal attention spearheads strategies to keep the vocal stylings intact. What wouldn’t a choirmaster do to cash in on his established prepubescent harmonies? (Imagine Michael Jackson’s dad in 18th century Austria.) The Ruckus presents the world-premiere musical Escape from the Haltsburg Boys Choir. Originally conceived as a fable based on the Vienna Boys Choir, The Ruckus moved the setting to the fictional town of Haltsburg after a cease-and-desist letter from the VBC. The story centers around the questionable recruitment and retention practices of a boys choir. Back in the day, star performers would retain their position by being castrated. To maintain the higher cherubic quality, it was off with his balls. Motivated by the threat of castration, four boys skip choir practice to flee captivity. Escape from the Haltsburg Boys Choir promotes the tagline ‘to get out, you’ll need to use ‘em…or lose ‘em.’
The Ruckus is staging its world-premiere musical at Side Project Theatre. It’s a 35 seat theatre with a 13 member cast plus a 4-piece band off-stage. The ambitious undertaking is ballsy! Playwright Aaron Dean has written a fable that chronicles the fugitives’ interactions with a witch, a dragon, a talking rock and a dancing penis. In a small venue, it’s a lot to take in. The Medieval choir torture is an intriguing horrific tale in itself. The puppet pageantry and ancillary characters could be snipped to focus on the real action, though the superfluous pieces do add fantasy elements. But instead of an orgy for the senses, it’s gets clunky, confusing and ultimately unsatisfying – a pleasurable experience is all about one solid thing probed deeper (pun intended?).
Under the direction of Daniel Caffrey, the cast works energetically to escape disaster. The quartet of runaways crawl, croon and create an exit plan. Kate Black (Johanne) leads the singers with an enthusiastic chipper. Alyse Kittner (Nils) brings the sass as a rambunctious sidekick. Liz Goodson (Arthur) anchors the foursome as the stalwart quiet one. Heather Moats (Sebastian) endears as the timid lost boy. Megan Gotz (Victors) connives as the jealous wannabe soloist. These gals don’t need balls to hit the right melody. With the talented he-shes and a tighter script, Escape from the Haltsburg Boys Choir will take flight. Snip-snip! “It’s easy as A-B-C, 1-2-3…”
Running Time: Two hours and thirty minutes with a fifteen minute intermission
Production photography by Lucas Gerald.