Company Bracing and potent as a vodka stinger, Company (1970), Stephen Sondheim and George Furth’s multiple Tony Award-winning “musical comedy” on marriage, commitment and New York City, ushered in Sondheim as potential king of Broadway. This intimate production from MJR Theatricals and Music Box Musicals supplies plenty of grit and polish and an exceptional cast to keep this classic show spiky and full of attitude. Perpetual bachelor Bobby (Michael J. Ross), best friend of five conflicted married couples, refuses to settle down. He makes lame excuses for his noncommitment; he expects some future wife to be an amalgam of his women friends; he sleeps around and can’t remember his bedmates’ names. It’s either/or for “Bobby baby, Bobby bubi,” but there’s not much positive reinforcement from the couples. George Furth’s book about the joys of modern marriage is a bitchy blowtorch, and Sondheim’s disco-era music and ironic lyrics are incomparable at scouring off skin: “Being Alive,” “Another Hundred People,” “The Ladies Who Lunch,” “The Little Things You Do Together.” The dissection of personal relationships and matrimony’s “sorry/grateful” dichotomy is as sophisticated as a Manhattan penthouse and perfectly encapsulates what would be known later as the “swingin’ ’70s.” Happening all at once, for all we know, during Bobby’s 35th surprise birthday party, the action may all take place in his mind. The impressionistic revue flows without chronology in a series of little dramas, as each couple gets time with Robert, or someone will sing about relationships or what it’s like to live in an urban jungle while a scene is in progress. The show’s as fluid as a dream. Harry and Sarah (Brad Goertz and Allison Sumrall) duel in a comic male/female karate match; Peter and Susan (Adam W. Delka and Lendsey Kersey), seen by Robert as loving and perfect together, are getting a divorce; David and Jenny (Luke Wrobel and Kristina Sullivan, terrifically funny as stoned parents) believe they’re too staid to be swinging and youthful; Paul and Amy (Brad Scarborough, sweet and loving, and Rebekah Dahl, sweet and manic), living together for two years, are finally getting married, prompting the show’s comic highlight, Amy’s neurotic patter song “Getting Married Today.” Larry and Joanne (Joel Sandel and Susan Shofner) are older, richer and much married, giving the hard-drinking Joanne the caustic showstopper “The Ladies Who Lunch,” which Shofner spits out in a stinging, acid rage. Bobby’s girlfriends are a triptych of ’70s stereotypes: April, the clueless airline stewardess (Cay Taylor, in a beautifully shaded performance); sweet Kathy (Briana J. Resa), who can’t wait any longer for vacillating Bobby to make up his mind; and downtown grunge girl Marta (Libby Evans), who lives for a good time. The entire cast has had a hand in shaping the show. Each scene has a different director (Ross, Resa, Dahl, etc.) or choreographer ( Delka, Kersey, Shofner, et al). As testament to this troupe’s collaboration (or the musical’s tight structure and form), it’s all of one piece. A superlative song-and-dance man (The Producers, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, Little Shop of Horrors), Ross is best when playing nebbishes and nerds, the little guy who dreams big. Although he sings up a storm and can do a nimble soft shoe with the best of them, he’s not an ideal Bobby, a tad too doughy for the lady killer who’s the envy of his pals and object of maternal concern from their wives. He’d make a much better Sondheim husband than this show’s quintessential bachelor. Sondheim and Furth’s abrasive and comic X-ray of modern marriage is classic grown-up Broadway. Under MJR Theatricals/Music Box Musicals’ adroit handling (which includes Shofner’s glittering hardness, Dahl’s tongue-wisting nuttiness, Sumrall’s smoky mezzo, Marco Camacho’s projections, Mark X. Laskowski’s minimalist set design, Libby Evans’s unifying black and white costumes, and Jesse Lozano’s four-piece orchestra), this is Company you want to spend time with. Through November 22. Music Box Theater, 2623 Colquitt, 713-522-7722. — DLG
Così fan tutte If you want to know all about sex, why read Masters and Johnson when you can go to the opera and hear Mozart. What better primer than Così fan tutte (1790), the third collaboration between Mozart and urbane librettist Lorenzo Da Ponte. The masterpieces Marriage of Figaro and Don Giovanni preceded this classic. The title loosely translates as “All women are like this,” and if you change tutte‘s “e” to an “i,” you get “all men are like this.” That would be just as appropriate, for the opera skewers the male point of view with an equally jaundiced eye. Suffice it to say, the battle of the sexes has been raging long before and far after this work from the late 18th century, but there hasn’t been anything new. In this bittersweet opera buffa, woman’s faithfulness is tested, but so is man’s. On a bet, disguised as exotic “Albanians” with mustaches “like plumes of love,” two best friends, Guglielmo and Ferrando (baritone Jacques Imbrailo and tenor Norman Reinhardt), do their best to seduce each other’s fiancée, the sisters Dorabella and Fiordiligi (sopranos Melody Moore and Rachel Willis-Sorensen). To their horror and with blows to their vanity, they succeed — spectacularly so in under 24 hours — but they get as much heartache as they give, and then realize that women are no more suited to a pedestal than men. Everyone’s only human; accept the faults and go on. Don’t worry, be happy. This refreshingly modern view from Da Ponte is catnip for Mozart, who sets the fable to some of his most sublime melodies, both comic and dramatic. Most definitely a court composition, Così is refined, stylized and heightened by artifice. In structure the very picture of balance and control, its parts contrast and compare: two guys, two sisters, the roué, the flip servant. As the opera takes place in Naples, the musical atmosphere is filled with lilting breezes and sunshine. Mozart uses a lot of woodwinds and triple rhythms to achieve this effect, unique among his operas in its expressively liquid tone. Although there are coloratura outbursts from stoic Fiordiligi, whose aria “Like a rock” (“Come stoglia“) has been a showpiece of technique and vocal prowess ever since the opera’s Vienna premiere, and a grand, old-fashioned throwback “How will I live now that he’s gone” number for the more pliant Dorabella, the opera is awash with ensemble singing: duets, trios, sextets. This is an opera about conspiracies and masquerades, so it’s only logical that the co-conspirators sing together whenever possible. Of course, there’s the saucy maid, Despina (soprano Nuccia Focile), the wisest of them all, who doesn’t see what the women are fussing about since there are so many men in the world from whom to choose. The whirligig plot is set in motion by crafty philosopher Don Alfonso (bass-baritone Alessandro Corbelli), who’s fed up with the men’s starry-eyed, naive view of how pure their women are. He’s been around the piazza too many times to fall for that line. The bet is on. Houston Grand Opera uses the sparse and clean Goran Jarvefelt production that was commissioned for the company’s triple Mozart/Da Ponte celebration, which debuted in 1988 with Don Giovanni. Resembling an antique Baroque stage, the unit set with its receding perspective is ultra chic in its clutter-free look. Carl-Friedrich Oberle’s rich period costumes add eye-catching luxury. The cast is elegant, too. Vibrant and spry, with luxurious voices that wrap Mozart in velvet, they throw themselves into this divine, stylized comedy of manners. Così fan tutte. November 13 and 15. Houston Grand Opera at Wortham Theater Center, 501 Texas, 713-228-6737, hgo.org. — DLG
Mass Appeal What an apt title playwright Bill C. Davis gives his gentle two-character drama. Although set in a posh Catholic parish where Father Tim Farley is the beloved priest, Mass Appeal (1980) could just as easily be set at the local Wendy’s or some plumbing supply company. The message Davis preaches of basic human kindness could apply anywhere. Father Farley (Ric Hodgin, twinkling as usual) is complacent and not about to make waves. For ten years, he’s had a comfortable existence at St. Francis Church. He drives a Mercedes, the collection plate is always filled — a sure sign of success, like the Nielsen ratings, he says with satisfaction — and he receives bottles of sparkling burgundy as presents from his distinguished parishioners, which he consumes with increasing frequency. If he keeps his herd at a respectable distance, coddling them with harmless little lies and sweet compliments, who gets hurt? Like the proverbial fatted calf, he is quite content. Guess what happens next? Before you can say Hail Mary, young firebrand seminary student Mark (Braden Hunt, twinkling like a Haight-Ashbury dropout) disrupts Farley’s staid life. Full of life and compassion, brimming with indignation and audacity, this idealist desperately wants to be a priest. Naturally, the older man is put in charge of the apprentice, teaching him important life lessons on the road to deaconship. Do I need add that the young man will instruct the master? While we know where this play is headed, Davis adds enough small touches and felicitous detours to keep the journey fresh and revealing. Sprinkled throughout are personal revelations from both men, affixing just enough information to keep us guessing what will happen next. The genre’s road map might be rumpled and well-used, but the final destination, though familiar, is lovingly detailed. With these two pros leading the way, we happily go along for the ride. It’s high praise indeed that never once do we ask, “Are we there yet?” At his disposal, Hodgin uses a career’s worth of wily craftsmanship to delineate Farley. He doesn’t have to do much to show his character’s desperation or panic at being exposed by this young man. He can slump in a chair with the best of them, give a throwaway side glance that says everything or fumble through a sheaf of papers as if handling holy writ. Less is more with Hodgin, and it’s impossible not to like Farley, faults and all. There is decency in him, and when he rises to the challenge of defying church authority, he has the weight of Martin Luther nailing those famous theses to the doors of Wittenberg Cathedral. Hunt is younger, naturally, but he matches the veteran with surprising stage wiles of his own, not least a charismatic presence enhanced by his angelic halo of black curls and deft athleticism. Mark is supposed to be a distance runner, and Hunt looks every inch of it. He has a Disciple’s aura about him, a determination and singleness of purpose that will not be swayed. When Farley seeks a time to meet for lessons, Mark lists his extensive charity work. Farley snidely asks, “What, no leper colony?” We laugh because we’re sure that if there were one anywhere within a 20-mile radius, Mark would work there. These two actors play off each other with appealing finesse and theatrical savvy. As is the norm at A.D. Players, the production is crisply detailed through designer Mark A. Lewis’s bifurcated set of office and pulpit, with lighting to match; costumer Patty Tuel Bailey’s sacramental cassocks vs. Mark’s gym gear; and sound designer Zach Varela’s ethereal chimes and echoing church coughs. (Those coughs are instrumental to the story, but you’ll have to see the play to understand their significance.) Although the blackouts between scenes could be tightened, director Joey Watkins keeps the pace within scenes taut and varied, and wisely stands back and lets these two pros do their thing. Much like Levi’s Jewish rye bread, you don’t have to be Catholic to like Mass Appeal. A nice love of theater is all that’s needed. Through November 16. 2710 West Alabama, 713-526-2721. — DLG
Romeo and Juliet This tale of star-crossed lovers was written toward the end of the 16th century by William Shakespeare, and has captivated audiences ever since. The cast here is composed of student actors in the drama department of the University of St. Thomas. The set is an authentic-looking stone wall, with entrance arches at the rear on both sides of a raised stone tomb. It is soon filled with pulsing humanity as the play’s director, Eric Domuret, sends enthusiastic young performers hurtling onto the stage. The play begins with a brawl and swordplay, quite well-staged. Domuret has wisely decided to mine this classic for wit and good humor, and has set it in modern dress. Romeo sports a number of tattoos, and Juliet enters on a skateboard. Two key male roles, Mercutio and Benvolio, are filled by females. These two are companions of Romeo, and are of the Montague clan, as is Romeo. The Montagues and the Capulets are feuding, and, since Juliet is a Capulet, her relationship with Romeo must be clandestine. Tybalt, a Capulet, kills Mercutio in a duel, and in turn is killed by Romeo, with these deaths fueling the plot. Amelia Templeton as Mercutio gives a strong performance, capturing the energy and swagger of a young buck. Kyna Hogan as Benvolio catches the Shakespearean rhythm of speech. Andy Santos as Lord Capulet has a strong stage presence and a powerful, stentorian voice. Kathleen Smith as Juliet is attractive and vulnerable, and captures her youth and innocence. Emanuel Nguyen as Romeo creates an interesting, consistent character with a strong presence. The tragic ending is shown by flashlight — not Domuret’s most inspired choice. He keeps the pace energetic and the action flowing. Through November 15. University of St. Thomas — Jones Hall, 3910 Yoakum, 713-525-3520, stthom.edu. — JJT
This article appears in Nov 13-19, 2014.
