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Friday, January 27, 2006
‘Charley’s Aunt’ @ Theatre in the Square
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
THEATER REVIEW. “Charley’s Aunt.” Through Feb. 26.
One attends a warhorse comedy like “Charley’s Aunt” hoping for an unexpected spark, perhaps a shred of contemporary relevance or, better yet, a performance that captures the farce’s fabled fizz.
This show, by George, doesn’t have it.
Directed by August Staub, Theatre in the Square’s production exudes the kind of dry archival respect for a classic that pays fealty to its tradition but does little to bring it to engaging life. Without some clever reinvention, the Victorian-era relic first produced in 1892 feels hopelessly dated, a genial trifle, and one that’s largely laughless.
The plot: Two Oxford chums (Jack and Charley) recruit another pal (Lord Fancourt Babberley) to pose as Charley’s aunt and serve as chaperone on an important date with their girlfriends, Kitty and Amy. The identity theft hits knee-slapping heights when Amy’s uncle and Jack’s father both fall for “her,” and then the real aunt —- from Brazil (“Where the nuts are!”) —- shows up on cue.
Of the cast, Christopher Eckholm comes closest to inspiration, playing Jack with a dreamy bonhomie reminiscent of Bertie Wooster. His marching, guardsmanlike entrance down the theater aisle to “The Eton Boating Song” may be the show’s funniest moment. For most of the evening, however, “Charley’s Aunt” tries, unsuccessfully, to outrace Father Time.
THE 411: 8 p.m. Tuesdays-Saturdays. 2:30 and 7 p.m. Sundays. Also 2:30 p.m. Feb. 22. Through Feb. 26. $18-$33. Theatre in the Square. 11 Whitlock Ave. Marietta. 770-422-8369. www.theatreinthesquare.com.
The verdict: Jolly wooden show.
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‘Wait Until Dark’ @ Aurora
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
THEATER REVIEW. “Wait Until Dark.” Through Feb. 12
When the lights go out in what’s supposed to be the terrifying final scene of Aurora Theatre’s “Wait Until Dark,” the audience lets out a few titters and laughs, but nary a scream or gasp.
Those who remember the chilling movie version of Frederick Knott’s 1960s thriller stage play will wonder where the excitement went.
The Aurora’s earnest, physically appealing cast, directed by Freddie Ashley, glides through the performance too glibly to build suspense. Because they never reach a higher level of illusion, pulling the audience out of itself, a lot of glaring holes in the script are revealed. What was shocking and innovative in the 1967 movie starring Audrey Hepburn and Alan Arkin now appears obvious, contrived and absurd.
Set in the chic, deteriorating New York of the 1960s, the play makes the era seem clunky and outmoded. From the vantage point of our connected time of cellphones, e-mail and iPods, the blind Susy Hendrix’s sense of abandonment and isolation while trying to outwit a desperate band of baddies grows implausible. The story —- about crooks trying to pull off an elaborate con to trick Susy into giving up a doll she doesn’t realize contains heroin —- now seems terribly far-fetched.
Played by Kate Donadio with Mary Tyler Moore tics of helplessness and growing independence, Susy uses her acute perceptions as a blind person to figure out the ruse. As Susy reaches out to any ally available, she shares some interesting moments with Gloria (11-year-old Hannah Wilkinson), who lives in her Greenwich Village apartment building and helps her defeat the bad guys. As Susy and Gloria’s initially combative relationship humorously grows into sisterly trust, one wishes they were characters in another play, a sweet reverse-Helen-Keller story perhaps.
As the smooth, sympathetic con Mike Talman, Theroun Patterson brings some originality to the role memorably played in the movie by Richard Crenna. A risky romantic warmth builds between him and Donadio as he pretends to be an old Army buddy of her absent husband.
As the mastermind psychopath Harry Roat —- Arkin’s brilliant portrait of evil —- Brik Berkes doesn’t convincingly make the transition from suave, hip immorality to creepy menace.
Pleasantly acted, more farce than thriller, the undemanding, innocuous performance about desperate criminals seeking a horrible drug is apparently considered suitable even for children, judging by the number of youngsters in the audience. But if you really want to scare the little ones —- and yourself —- get the DVD of the movie and watch it at home.
THE 411: 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays; 2:30 p.m. Saturdays-Sundays. Through Feb. 12. $18-$25. Aurora Theatre, 3087-B Main St., Duluth; www.auroratheatre.com, 770-476-7926.
The verdict: A lackluster thriller.
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‘8 1/2 x 11’ @ Dad’s Garage
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
THEATER REVIEW. “8 1/2 x 11: The Birds and the Bees.” Through Feb. 18
I always take notes at shows. It helps me internalize what I’m watching. And apparently it works, because I rarely have to flip through those pages of chicken scratch to jog my memory.
But by Jove, one production sends me scrambling for that little brown pad every time. Dad’s Garage’s short play festival, “8 1/2 x 11,” is the culprit —- and only because those thespian anarchists have the nerve to do nine one-acts in a single night.
While previous installments have skewered rock ‘n’ roll and censorship, this year’s theme is “The Birds and the Bees,” courtesy of artistic director Kate Warner, who commissioned the batch of world premieres.
If the subject sounds like a loaded excuse for Dad’s usual stable of playwrights to stage an orgy of equal-opportunity sexual deviance using the devices of sketch comedy, it is —- mostly.
Some of the writers have love, and war, on their brains, as evidenced by Christian Danley’s video “Robot Love,” a “Satellite of Love” homage about cute little bunny-people who are blasted off to space and war, and Lauren Gunderson’s “Heart.Beat.” —- in which a jogger is peppered by soul shrapnel.
The most solid and reflective piece is Lisa Kron’s “43/13,” in which a middle-aged lesbian talks to her younger self —- before she’s discovered her sexuality.
But never fear. There’s plenty of naughty fun here to keep Dad’s comedy klatch in a dither.
This means Brian Griffin’s “Go Ask Phallus,” a “Saturday Night Live”-style doozy that riffs on quiz shows and perversions of sexual psychologists. (Instead of “The Man With the New Brain,” imagine an accident victim with a pair of “donor fingers” gone out of control.) And Ross Maxwell’s “The Illusionist,” hosted by a gay magician who has lots of tricks (yuk, yuk).
Also on display are evidence that love will tear us apart (see Steve Yockey’s disturbing “Snuff Film”) —- just as surely as it will keep us together (see Kyle Jarrow’s valentine to Captain and Tennille).
But what exactly does love have to do with mosquito bites and mothers in Darth Vader masks (Alice Tuan’s “Scratchy Makes Itchy”)? Even my notebook can’t help on that one.
THE 411: 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays. Also 5 p.m. Sunday and 8 p.m. Monday. Through Feb. 18. $9-$23. Dad’s Garage, 280 Elizabeth St., Atlanta. 404-523-3141; www.dadsgarage.com
The verdict: Love —- with and without sugar.
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