Looped & The Miracle Worker

In their latest, The Scottsboro Boys, with Kander completing the lyrics after the passing of his longtime partner, the scoresmiths and their collaborators (David Thompson on book with Susan Stroman directing and choreographing) tackle what might be their most difficult combination of story and stage show. The plot is taken from a 1931 case where nine black teenage boys were falsely accused of raping two white women while riding a train that had stopped in Scottsboro, Alabama. The choice to play out their saga through the conventions of a minstrel show is daring, immensely theatrical, and ripe for social commentary, even if the resulting musical isn't always up to the challenge.

While many would argue that minstrelsy did, in its own particular way, help popularize the music of American blacks of the 1800s, it's better remembered nowadays as a stage show where whites in blackface played offensive racist stereotypes. Black minstrel troupes did exist, but they portrayed the same lazy, buffoonish, happy-go-lucky caricatures as their white counterparts.

In The Scottsboro Boys we're presented with an (almost) all-black minstrel troupe. But here the lead clowns traditionally known as Mr. Bones (Colman Domingo) and Mr. Tambo (Forrest McClendon) save their broad stereotyping for when they and their cohorts portray brutally racist white police officers, lying white prostitutes claiming rape and corrupt and incompetent white representatives of the American legal system; a neat little twist that would never have occurred in real-life minstrelsy and suggests a parallel to the more modern practice of "taking back the word."

Musical theatre treasure John Cullum, the only white member of the cast, displays his usual gracious elegance as the interlocutor; the traditional name for the master of ceremonies. In his relatively small role, Cullum, representing the romanticized white south usually glorified in such pageants, seems oblivious to the horrors being acted out around him and is more concerned with skipping ahead to the crowd-pleasing cakewalk.

While the concept is intriguing, Thompson's book doesn't take advantage of the possibilities, stretching a brief outline of a plot (there's a trial... the Supreme Court finds that trial unconstitutional... there are a bunch of other trials) into an intermission-less hour and forty five minutes that tells us little of the nine strangers suddenly locked up together with the electric chair waiting for them. We hear mention that the north is outraged at the injustice going on in Alabama as well as the fact that the American Communist Party has paid for their legal defense, but these interesting details are left unexplored while attention is paid to a silent woman (Sharon Washington) whose eventual contribution to the drama is far too obvious.

Brandon Victor Dixon admirably plays out the clichés of his angry, system-fighter character, Haywood Patterson, who is taught to write by the sympathetic Roy Wright (Julius Thomas III) and puts that knowledge to good use, but what drags the storytelling down is that the symbolic conflict which gives the piece its best reason for being done as a musical, that between the interlocutor's desire to entertain and the troupe's need to tell the truth, is introduced at the outset but barely expanded upon, leaving a blandly told tale that never challenges the audience to think of the arrested teens as anything but targets of racism and the whites they encounter as anything but corrupt, sadistic or self-serving.

Fortunately, the Kander and Ebb score is exemplary of what puts them among musical theatre's elite. Not only is it filled with interesting and catchy melodies and lyrics boasting cleverness that extends beyond rhyming and wordplay, the duo provides songs that demand to be staged and frequently suggest their own staging. The rousing opener "Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey!" is patterned after the way minstrel troupes would parade through the streets of a town to announce their arrival. Patterson glumly pleads his innocence with a Bert Williams-styled "Nothin'," a song that will undoubtedly be grabbed by character men who are tired of auditioning with "Mr. Cellophane." "Southern Days" is a sentimental anthem that sneaks in an alternate view of the scenes described in the classic, "Strange Fruit" and one lovely ballad, "Go Back Home," gives the evening its tragic heart.

While Stroman's mounting is sharp and professional, with a talented ensemble strutting, high stepping and flashing their tap shoes with great exuberance, she never hits the discomforting satirical nerve the score keeps tickling, soaking the evening in a lively blandness. A nightmare routine involving the tap dancing volts of an electric chair never builds beyond the potential of its visual and her staging of a number that's critical of the "Jew money" that paid for a high-powered defense attorney is too reminiscent of the razzle dazzle of a Kander and Ebb standard that can be caught further uptown.

Cabaret succeeded by suggesting parallels between Nazi Germany and 1960s America. Chicago gained a new life by reflecting back at us how the nation has changed since the OJ trial. By comparison, The Scottsboro Boys takes the safer road and winds up resembling a "feel good" musical, separating our current nation from the world it depicts. That score, and history, deserve something cleverer.

Photos by Carol Rosegg: Top: Derrick Cobey, Julius Thomas III, Brandon Victor Dixon and Josh Breckenridge; Bottom: Rodney Hicks, John Cullum and Brandon Victor Dixon.

Follow Michael Dale on Twitter at michaeldale.

Posted on: Friday, March 19, 2010 @ 11:45 AM Posted by: Michael Dale | Leave Feedback

The Book of Grace: Writing Wrongs

A U.S. military vet who hasn't seen his father since he was ten surprises dad, also a vet, by kissing him on the mouth... hard... and refers to previous times when they would do that quite a bit while the father rather casually denies any recollection of such instances. Shortly after, the prodigal gets acquainted with his stepmother by having sex with her on the couch. To what degree we're supposed to take the events in Suzan-Lori Parks' The Book of Grace at their face value probably depends on how willing you are to believe dad and stepmom live in a home with a sandbox floor.

Grace, played by Elizabeth Marvel with puppy dog cheerfulness that acts as a defense against accepting how her life has evolved, is a woman with creative impulses and an optimistic view of the world that insists there is good in all people, even as she hides the book she's been writing from her domineering husband, Vet (John Doman). The symbolically named Vet, who used to be known as Snake, is a proud member of the U.S. Boarder Patrol who believes strongly in fences -- both public and personal -- and, as the play opens, is ironing the crease in his uniform's pants in preparation for the next day's ceremony, where he'll be honored for his single-handed bust of a group of illegal Mexican immigrants trying to smuggle in marijuana. He often speaks in the elevated language of the speech he's preparing to make, accenting points with sharp blasts of steam.

Vet, who is white, has a black son, Buddy (Amari Cheatom), from his first marriage. (Their racial difference is never directly approach. Is it indirectly approached? You tell me.) Having gotten into a bit of trouble with the law after being discharged, Buddy appears to be trying to put his life back together, though at first he seems intent on one-upping dad on every one of his accomplishments. Through a video journal we learn of Buddy's plans for a violent rebellious act.

With a projected chapter title announcing each scene, there's the suggestion that we're seeing at least part of the evening's events via Grace's secret writings, but the point of view is as ambiguous as the symbolic meaning of the various unrealistic plot points, played by director James Macdonald's fine cast for naturalistic drama. (Marvel, though, is the only one with a textured character to play; with Buddy being a familiar figure and Vet broad-stroked as an outright stereotype.)

Parks' great asset as a playwright is a skill with language that can effectively balance realism with near-poetry, giving her the ability to intrigue, even if her plot and characters do not.  The Book of Grace plays like a drama that has something interesting to say.  It just needs to speak more clearly.

Photos by Joan Marcus: Top: Amari Cheatom; Bottom: John Doman and Elizabeth Marvel.

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The heck with the prom.  Let Constance take her girlfriend to The Tony Awards!

Follow Michael Dale on Twitter at michaeldale.

Posted on: Thursday, March 18, 2010 @ 11:24 AM Posted by: Michael Dale | Leave Feedback

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Broadway Grosses: Week Ending 3/14 & Theatre Quote of the Week

"In Hell they play the cast album of ‘Walking Happy.'"
-- Gerard Alessandrini

 

The grosses are out for the week ending 3/14/2010 and we've got them all right here in BroadwayWorld.com's grosses section.

Up for the week was: LEND ME A TENOR (75.4%), SOUTH PACIFIC (20.6%), IN THE HEIGHTS (15.7%), THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA (15.7%), CHICAGO (14.5%), WEST SIDE STORY (13.4%), HAIR (12.2%), FELA! (12.0%), MARY POPPINS (11.8%), NEXT TO NORMAL (9.5%), ROCK OF AGES (8.1%), MAMMA MIA! (8.1%), PRESENT LAUGHTER (7.1%), JERSEY BOYS (6.0%), BILLY ELLIOT: THE MUSICAL (6.0%), THE LION KING (5.7%), THE MIRACLE WORKER (4.5%), COME FLY AWAY (4.4%), ALL ABOUT ME (3.9%), A LITTLE NIGHT MUSIC (3.1%), GOD OF CARNAGE (2.6%), A VIEW FROM THE BRIDGE (2.6%), WICKED (1.8%), MEMPHIS (1.6%),

Down for the week was: A BEHANDING IN SPOKANE (-3.6%), NEXT FALL (-2.6%), TIME STANDS STILL (-2.2%), RACE (-0.7%), LOOPED (-0.5%),

Posted on: Monday, March 15, 2010 @ 04:36 PM Posted by: Michael Dale | Leave Feedback

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Top Secret: The Battle For The Pentagon Papers

"Let's publish."

Some would call those words heroic. Others would call them treasonous. Uttered by Washington Post Publisher Katherine Graham on the seventeenth of June in 1971, those words changed the relationship between the federal government and the free press.

The title Top Secret: The Battle For The Pentagon Papers may scare off a playgoer or two who imagines some dry, dense history lesson, but playwrights Geoffrey Cowan and the late Leroy Aarons (an award-winning journalist and founder of the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association) deliver a tight, tense drama that celebrates the patriotism of challenging the government.

Premiering in 1990 as a radio play broadcast over NPR, director John Rubinstein stages the piece in the same manner; having actors speak into downstage microphones with scripts in hand while foley artists execute Lindsay Jones' sound design from an upstage table. Holly Poe Durbin's costumes and minimal moments of movement provide theatrical visuals without taking away from the radio play spirit. The text is based on interviews with real-life participants and trial transcripts released under the Freedom of Information Act with minor alterations made for the sake of clarity and dramatic presentation.

History tells us that in 1971, the New York Times began publishing a series of front page reports revealing public deception and scandal related to U.S. involvement in Vietnam, based on information acquired from top secret Pentagon documents When a federal court stopped the series from being continued after the third installment, Washington Post Editor-in-Chief Ben Bradlee (Peter Strauss), long frustrated at the Times' status over his paper, acquired copies of the documents and had his staff quickly produce a story that picked up where the New York paper left off, knowing that doing so could risk the entire future of his publication.

While the 1^st Amendment guarantees a free press, publishing information that may compromise national security would be considered treasonous. The ensuing legal battle debated the government's right to determine what information should be kept secret over the judgment of a publication's editor.

Narrating the piece is Katherine Graham, an intelligent and cultured socialite who was still a novice at journalistic matters when she took over as publisher of the family business. Kathryn Meisle gives a warm, everyperson presence to the role of a woman who must decide in less than a day if she is prepared to challenge the entire federal government. In a docu-play more concerned with providing information than fleshing out characters, she is the glimpse of humanity that gives the evening empathy while Peter Strauss' gruff and hard-nosed Bradlee and his cohorts deliver their juicy jargon with crackling alacrity.

If the evening has a flaw, it's the piece's one-sidedness which presents Nixon (Larry Pine), Kissinger (Peter Van Norden) and their allies as near-buffoonish sketches. While Americans pride themselves in living in a land of free speech, a more sympathetic look at the reasons why someone would put a boundary around this freedom could make this already interesting and enjoyable play downright fascinating.

Photos by Joan Marcus: Top: Kathryn Meisle, Peter Strauss, Peter Van Norden; Bottom: Peter Van Norden.

Follow Michael Dale on Twitter at michaeldale.

Posted on: Saturday, March 13, 2010 @ 04:28 PM Posted by: Michael Dale | Leave Feedback

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Next Fall: Biblical Sense

This past June mine was not one of the reviews that contributed to the Off-Broadway premiere of Geoffrey Nauffts' Next Fall becoming one of the summer's hottest tickets, earning three extensions and now, a move to Broadway's Helen Hayes Theatre. Viewing it for a second time, it didn't seem like the playwright and director Sheryl Kaller made any significant changes from their earlier production. Thus, I've decided not to make any significant changes from my earlier review.

While the situations presented by playwright Geoffrey Nauffts in Next Fall are certainly realistic, the evening suffers from a steady feeling of contrivance as the storytelling pieces fall too neatly into place and a nagging sense that the playwright has avoided certain obvious issues that would add some needed depth to the piece.

Aspiring actor Luke (Patrick Heusinger) lies in a coma after being hit by a taxi, while his partner Adam (Patrick Breen), with whom he's been living in a committed relationship for four years, stresses in the waiting room. Only family members are allowed to see him and if Adam explained to Luke's somewhat ditzy mom (Connie Ray, whose air-headedness has toned town quite a bit since Off-Broadway) and gruff, domineering father, conveniently nicknamed Butch (Cotter Smith), why he should also be at their son's bedside it would out his lover to his parents. (The issue of whether or not the hospital would consider an unmarried gay couple in a committed relationship as family is never brought up.) Compounding the matter is that Butch is making serious decisions regarding Luke's treatment, unaware of any reason why Adam should be consulted in the matter.

Scenes alternate between the present day hospital events and a progression of flashbacks that bring us up to speed on the fellows' relationship, beginning when the young and handsome Luke, on a cater-waiter gig, sets out to meet the older, nebbishy Adam by giving him an unnecessary Heimlich maneuver ("I just wanted to get my arms around you.") and an invitation to see him play the stage manager in Our Town. The thought that this vapid fellow actually has the acting tools to do any justice to the role is a bit more than far-fetched (He mentions to Adam that he wanted to play George and seems disappointed that he was cast as the stage manager instead.) but the plot point allows the author to heavy-handedly point out themes supposedly shared by his play and Thornton Wilder's.

The steady conflict in their relationship stems from Adam's objection over Luke's devout Christianity; not because of his own atheism, but because he doesn't see the sense in a gay man following a faith that condemns his own sexuality. (If we're really supposed to believe that Adam would stay with someone who prays for forgiveness after each time they make love, just in case he's struck down dead before being forgiven for the sin he just committed, then I'd say we have a new low self-esteem champion of the world.) His partner's insistence that accepting Christ insures you a place in heaven despite your sins is countered by a sobering hypothetical ("So then, if Matthew Shepard hadn't accepted Jesus Christ before he died, he's in hell, and his killers who, say, have, are going to heaven? Is that what you're saying?") but the subject is dropped just as things are getting interesting.

Nauffts can write funny lines for his two central characters and have them bring up thought-provoking topics for viewers to ponder later on, but he never gives us any sense of them as a couple in love. There's amusing banter and some physical closeness but little in the way of tenderness and affection. In one scene Adam frantically tries to hide anything in their apartment that hints of homosexuality, anticipating an unexpected visit from his Bible-revering dad. His insistence that his life partner make himself scarce and Luke's refusal to do him that favor doesn't exactly build empathy for their relationship.

While Butch is presented as the obstacle between Adam and his desire to be with his partner during what could be his final moments, the conflict lacks impact because the father is never made aware of his son's sexuality and the true nature of their relationship. He comes off as a bit of a bully, but given that his son's life is on the line such behavior might be understood, especially in a climactic scene where Luke starts standing up for his own rights and Butch has no idea why this stranger is telling him what to do. The scene ends with a moment that seems aimed to strike hard emotionally but is just too coincidental to be believable. Also not believable is quick exchange where Butch uses both a homophobic and a racial slur, because nothing else in the script justifies suddenly painting him as a bigoted man.

But despite holes in the plot the evening's surface is smooth and rather enjoyable, thanks to crisp staging by Sheryl Kaller that emphasizes the wit of Nauffts' dialogue. While the characters lack empathy, the actors (including Maddie Corman and Sean Dugan in roles that exist primarily to give Adam a chance to speak openly) give appealing performances. There are some especially nice moments between Ray and Breen as the mother silently hints that she's beginning to understand Adam's position.

Next Fall is that kind of play that, at first, appears to be tackling some weighty issues. But as the evening progresses it becomes apparent that the author is only lightly tapping them.

Photos by Carol Rosegg: Top: Patrick Heusinger, Cotter Smith and Patrick Breen; Bottom: Patrick Breen, Maddie Corman and Connie Ray.

Follow Michael Dale on Twitter at michaeldale.

Posted on: Friday, March 12, 2010 @ 01:42 AM Posted by: Michael Dale | Leave Feedback

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Neighbors: Black Like Me?

As we've all learned from David Mamet this season, there is nothing a white person can say to a black person about race. And I only mention this because, as I'm about to explain why I consider Branden Jacob-Jenkins' Neighbors to be the most exciting and theatrically daring new play or musical I've seen in many a season, I'm also very aware that there will be people who hate this play. There will be people who find themselves very, very hurt by the images they see in this exploration of not only how people of different races see each other but also of how those of the same race may see each other.  My guest the evening I attended, a black woman who, like myself, was intrigued but a bit flabbergasted at intermission, told me during the interval that a loved one of hers would have walked out five minutes after the play had begun.

And while I'm not going to try and convince anyone that they shouldn't have any of the above reactions, let me say that that the final page of this play, which I will not describe here, provided the most provocative moment of communal audience discovery I've ever experienced. Yes, a similar moment occurs in at least one American theatre classic, but in context to the rest of the evening Neighbors sends you off with a jaw-dropping finish that delivers an extra jolt after the curtain call and even one more as you exit the theatre.

That's not to say that Neighbors is in perfect shape right now. Its nearly three-hour length can use some trimming, there's at least one long speech that needs a more realistic tone and a moment or two whose significance is a bit baffling. But presented as a Public Theater LAB production, which mounts developing new scripts in front of audiences who pay only $10 per ticket, the piece needs to be accepted as a work in progress. The decision to invite reviewers wasn't made until well into its scheduled two-week run, which has now been extended through March 14^th.

Taking place in what the playwright describes as "a distorted present" Mimi Lien's set reveals two homes in a college town. Staring out his kitchen window, Richard Patterson (Chris McKinney), a black professor who hopes his taking over of a course in Greek drama will give him a boost up the academic ladder, is disgusted as he observes his new neighbors settling in. He has a name for them which his white wife, Jean (Birgit Huppuch), will only refer to as the n-word.

Their actual name is Crow, though their patriarch Jim has recently passed away, leaving behind Mammy (Tonye Patano), who lives with her children, Sambo (Okieriete Onaodowan) and Topsy (Jocelyn Boih) and their uncle, a dandy in a top hat and swallow-tailed coat who goes by the name Zip Coon (Eric Jordan Young). Played by actors who are black, the Crows are traveling entertainers who all wear blackface makeup in their everyday lives (accented by large, red painted-on lips) and live as the famous stereotypes their names suggest. Director Niegel Smith, who mounts the piece with an appropriately flashy hand, pulls no punches in allowing his actors to play the most extreme characteristics of their iconic namesakes.

(Production photos of these actors in makeup and designer Gabriel Berry's costumes were not made available.)

The only member of the Crow family who appears almost normal is Jim, Jr. (Brandon Gill), who also wears the family makeup but is otherwise a typical shy, awkward teenager. Though he normally serves as the act's stage manager, Jim Jr. is nervous about Mammy's expectation for him to take over his father's role on stage.

As samples of what we might expect to see at a Crow performance, Jacob-Jenkins occasionally puts them in front of a show curtain for a series of vulgar comedy bits that involve (fake) sex organs, a watermelon, a plunger and a unique way of putting out a fire. Though these routines are horrifically offensive to modern viewers, they were once staples of blackface comedy that had white audiences doubled over with laughter.

While Richard fears that any association with the Crows would reflect badly on him and hurt his career, his teenage daughter Melody (Danielle Davenport) has struck a budding romance with Jim and the lonely Jean has taken to having afternoon teas with Zip Coon (Young's exceptional work presents a living, breathing cartoon of exaggerated elegance) who has her questioning the way she and Richard see each other in terms of race. By that time you may have noticed specifics about the text that suggest the author is also asking us to consider how each Patterson is seeing the Crows in terms of race.

By the end of the play Jacob-Jenkins is laying out a history of black entertainers in America, from what might be considered the country's first instance of black people taking the stage for the enjoyment of white people to the types that are popular in the 21^st Century, for us to decide if their mainstream appeal comes from a virtual blackface that gives white audiences the same pleasure that the greasy kind did for other white audiences one hundred years ago. Nobody is condemned, but the thought is thrown out there to discuss. And something tells me people who see Neighbors will be discussing the experience for a long, long time.

Photos by Ari Mintz: Top: Chris McKinney and Birgit Huppuch; Bottom: Chris McKinney, Birgit Huppuch and Danielle Davenport.

Follow Michael Dale on Twitter at michaeldale.

Posted on: Wednesday, March 10, 2010 @ 10:46 AM Posted by: Michael Dale | Leave Feedback

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Broadway Grosses: Week Ending 3/7 & Theatre Quote of the Week

"Americans adore me and will go on adoring me until I say something nice about them."
-- George Bernard Shaw

 

The grosses are out for the week ending 3/7/2010 and we've got them all right here in BroadwayWorld.com's grosses section.

Up for the week was: ALL ABOUT ME (51.0%), LOOPED (17.1%), GOD OF CARNAGE (15.3%), NEXT FALL (14.7%), A BEHANDING IN SPOKANE (9.9%), SOUTH PACIFIC (8.7%), MARY POPPINS (7.1%), BILLY ELLIOT: THE MUSICAL (6.8%), MAMMA MIA! (6.5%), THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA (6.5%), PRESENT LAUGHTER (5.5%), CHICAGO (5.4%), THE LION KING (4.2%), WEST SIDE STORY (3.9%), TIME STANDS STILL (3.8%), MEMPHIS (2.9%), WICKED (0.3%),

Down for the week was: FELA! (-16.1%), ROCK OF AGES (-7.9%), HAIR (-6.2%), THE MIRACLE WORKER (-6.1%), NEXT TO NORMAL (-4.7%), RACE (-4.6%), A LITTLE NIGHT MUSIC (-3.9%), IN THE HEIGHTS (-3.6%), JERSEY BOYS (-1.0%), A VIEW FROM THE BRIDGE (-0.1%),

Posted on: Monday, March 08, 2010 @ 06:39 PM Posted by: Michael Dale | Leave Feedback

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Signs of Life: Make Them Hear You

Despite the success of Cabaret and The Sound of Music, the appropriateness of using a story from Nazi Germany as the basis for a new musical is unavoidably questioned by those who believe the addition of songs will trivialize the subject. So let me begin by acknowledging the extra difficulties no doubt encountered by Peter Ullian (book), Len Schiff (lyrics) and Joel Derfner (music) in their effort to create Signs of Life, a serious-minded musical set in the concentration camp of Theresienstadt.

Located in what was the Czech town of Terezin, Theresienstadt was hailed as a "City For The Jews," by Hitler's propaganda machine.  With its official function to protect its guests from growing hostilities, the Nazis populated the prison with writers, musicians, painters and other artists, encouraging them to create. This was the showplace meant to convince inspectors from the Red Cross that the Jews were being treated with respect and being encouraged to let their culture thrive.

While the characters in Signs of Life are fictitious, they play out the true story of imprisoned artists who, under the threat of being sent to the death camp of Auschwitz, were forced to create work that depicted Theresienstadt as a joyous and vibrant community, while secretly smuggling out pictures that told the truth about their lives.

The story centers on 19-year-old Lorelei (Patricia Noonan), an art student who is initially willing to give the Nazis the kind of pretty pictures they want but when she and the others discover the full truth about what is happening to their fellow Jews, she must weigh the value of her own life against trying to alert the world of the lies being told. There's a bit of romance between Lorelei and a young former rabble-rouser (Wilson Bridges) who gets tongue-tied in her presence and hand-makes her tokens of his affection like a portable toilet seat. While Noonan and Bridges have attractive singing voices and play their roles with fine earnestness, there is little substance in their story, as the book's numerous subplots give the musical a patchwork quality.

New York stage veteran Stuart Zagnit gives gentle nobility to his role as a designated elder who is unaware of the consequences of his regular assignments to select Jews to be transferred out of the camp. In a score heavy with ballads, Erika Amato, in the supporting role of a Christian convert who was nevertheless cast aside by her husband, has the strongest material: "Home Again Soon," sung of the horrific fate of the children put in her care, and "I Will Forget," where she defends her decisions about her post-war life. Jason Collins, who plays a gay cabaret singer who is offered a chance to cooperate with his captors in exchange for freedom, offer the evening's most interesting and nuanced portrayal.

Admirable, the authors present the story's two Nazi officers with some degree of humanity. Kurt Zischke is the bureaucrat who doesn't seem especially political and who might be pleasant company under better circumstances. Allen E. Read is the stern and humorless patriot who truly believes that Hitler's policies will benefit his people.  In a realistic moment, both men express their horror at the inhuman scenes to be found in the other camps.

While the subject matter undoubtedly hits the emotions hard, director Jeremy Dobrish's fine enough premiere production has trouble finding any depth in the text that creates its own impact, revealing the project, at this point, to be more of an interesting work in progress.

Photos by Joan Marcus: Top: Nic Cory, Patricia Noonan, Kurt Zischke and Allen E. Read; Bottom: Jason Collins and Erika Amato.

Follow Michael Dale on Twitter at michaeldale.

Posted on: Monday, March 08, 2010 @ 02:11 AM Posted by: Michael Dale | Leave Feedback

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Next 10

About Michael: After 20-odd years singing, dancing and acting in dinner theatres, summer stocks and the ever-popular audience participation murder mysteries (try improvising with audiences after they?ve had two hours of open bar), Michael Dale segued his theatrical ambitions into playwriting. The buildings which once housed the 5 Off-Off Broadway plays he penned have all been destroyed or turned into a Starbucks, but his name remains the answer to the trivia question, "Who wrote the official play of Babe Ruth's 100th Birthday?" He served as Artistic Director for The Play's The Thing Theatre Company, helping to bring free live theatre to underserved communities, and dabbled a bit in stage managing and in directing cabaret shows before answering the call (it was an email, actually) to become BroadwayWorld.com's first Chief Theatre Critic. While not attending shows Michael can be seen at Shea Stadium pleading for the Mets to stop imploding. Likes: Strong book musicals and ambitious new works. Dislikes: Unprepared celebrities making their stage acting debuts by starring on Broadway and weak bullpens.