Annie (Musical)

There are some things that are in our culture that we kind of take for granted and collectively “know” without being aware of their genesis or history. One of these things is the mythology surrounding a little orphan girl with red hair named Annie. Or Anne, or some variant thereon. Key elements include the red hair, the age (11 or so), the shocking yet charming personality, and the older man whose heart is melted by the girl. 

While many cultural myths have their origins shrowded in misty obscurity, the “Annie” myth has a definite beginning. Poet James Whitcomb Riley’s 1885 poem “Little Orphant Annie” was actually based on a real person: Mary Alice “Allie” Smith, an orphan girl who came to work as a servant in the Riley household when the poet was a child. The girl probably wasn’t an “orphan” in the sense of having dead parents, but was, like many orphans of the Victorian Era, a child whose parents couldn’t care for her for a variety of reasons. As such, she was cared for until she could (at a rather young age) work as a servant for her keep. As in the poem, the real life “Annie” told fantastic tales of horror to the children of the household. In a weird twist of fate, the name “Annie” was entirely an accident. Riley intended that “Allie” be used - but the printer bolloxed it up, and it was too late to fix. And thus, we have “Annie” as the quintessential orphan girl name ever after. 

It isn’t too hard to trace the eventual family tree of Annie. The Raggedy Ann dolls and the stories that followed. Anne of Green Gables. And, of course, the whole “Annie” Industrial Complex which arose over time. It is why when most of us think about an orphan girl, the spunky red-headed Annie/Anne is the first character which comes to mind. 

The musical was inspired by the comic strip created by Harold Gray in the 1920s and 30s. The strip ran for decades, and followed the adventures of Annie and her benefactor, the immensely wealthy Oliver “Daddy” Warbucks. Looking back, the strip was rather on the reactionary side, taking political shots at the New Deal, unions, and other progressive ideas. It also was in the vein of the stories of Horatio Alger - who is both the best known purveyor of the central American myth, and one of the most misunderstood authors of all time. We Americans often think of Alger as writing stories where hard work and bootstrapping raise a worthy young man from poverty to respectability - or even wealth. This is the Great American Myth™, of course. A person, no matter what their background, can rise - if only they work hard enough. And it occasionally is true. But it is more true that white, middle class boys become...white middle class adults. And the United States actually has rather low social mobility compared to other developed countries. Your socioeconomic status - and your race - are the biggest factors in your destiny. So the great American myth is mostly that - a myth. 

But also, the Horatio Alger story is most decidedly NOT a story of bootstrapping and hard work. It is amazing to me that more people don’t know this. The Horatio Alger story is actually this: poor boy who has character gets an amazing chance to perform an extraordinary act of bravery or honesty for a...wait for it...VERY RICH MAN, who then rewards his character with benevolence which gives the boy a chance to make good. 

That’s a very different narrative than our national myth. It’s more a story of Karma - goodness rewarded by luck. And actually, it seems remarkably similar to the narrative that many white people like to tell about young African American boys who dream of sports stardom. 

So, the Annie myth, at its core, is the same idea. A young girl makes good despite her poverty by a combination of her character and personality and a stroke of luck. This is less central to Anne of Green Gables, of course. Her “chance” is just the chance of a normal life with eccentric but definitely not wealthy people. (Which is why Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert remain delightful and timeless characters, while Oliver Warbucks seems hopelessly dated.) 

If anything, the idea of the billionaire industrialist as a force for good, rather than an exploiter, hasn’t aged well at all. Time and observation have proven that the Gilded Age (and the Roaring 20s for that matter) was indeed a time when the powerful preyed on the impoverished - much like our current age, come to think of it. Only doctrinaire libertarians (well, and the current GOP) truly believe that the cure for starvation wages is to kill unions, or that the real cause of the Great Depression was that the government didn’t give enough money to billionaires. In reality, the major economic catastrophes of the last century have been caused by unregulated rich people playing games to chase high return rates. And we are still (for now…) reaping the dividends of the New Deal and the Great Society. The best chance for a good life for most of us has come, not by being adopted by a billionaire, but by such radical ideas as a living wage, socialized retirement and medical care, and a belief that the wealthy have a responsibility to further the common good. 

On that note, let me discuss the musical, which opened in 1977, a decade after Harold Gray’s death. The musical itself is related to the comic, but takes significant liberties with the story. Of most significant note, in the musical, Oliver Warbucks is the world’s most eligible bachelor. In the comic, he is married to a harridan of a wife, who hates Annie, and sends her back to the orphanage whenever Oliver is called away on an extended business trip. (Thus the decades-long run of the comic - the same basic plot could be extended endlessly. Think of Shakespeare and Prince Hal’s “relapse” that enabled Henry IV Part II…) Of necessity, the musical had to reduce a rather long narrative arc into a short episode. 

Despite the differences, the same rather dated plot ideas dominate: a spunky young girl catches the attention and affection of an obscenely wealthy industrialist, and lives the life of dreams. The female version of the Horatio Alger story and the Great American Myth. Just be good (and cute and white) and a rich person will rescue you. As I said, the plot seems dated as hell. 

The musical, though, depends not so much on the plot - which, as I noted, is practically a standard in the American cultural imagination - but on the memorable songs and the acting of Annie. As a kid, my dad would sing bits from “Tomorrow” - one of the few songs he consistently got the lyrics right for in those pre-internet days. 

So, about the local production. We saw it locally at Stars Theatre Restaurant, in part because my high schoolers have a friend in it. I loved that they still use live music, even though the venue doesn’t allow for a full orchestra like it did when I used to perform with them 25 years ago. The band sounded great this time, I must say. Likewise, the vocal quality of the ensemble was good - community theater is by definition a bit uneven on that. You work with what you have in any case. But this show attracted generally excellent singers. 

There were some other highlights. Bruce Saathoff was convincing as Oliver Warbucks. He is a regular of local theater, although he has directed more than acted as of late. He struck a nice balance of imposing and vulnerable in the role. Rosie Ayala was delightful as the nefarious Miss Hannigan. I was somewhat surprised at Randy Jelmini’s turn as Franklin Roosevelt. He never quite got the British accent right in Crazy for You (and has mostly been known in local theater for tireless support and deep pockets rather than acting), but he was hilarious as the President. The pacing and diction were spot on, with perfect comedic timing. I won’t mention all the rest of the ensemble (in part because I keep missing people), but I will mention that overall, the other parts were good. 

The title part went to Addison Cline, the daughter of local fixtures in the theater community here in Bakersfield. When we saw Matilda last year, she was one of the actors in the title role, but not on the night we were there. Addison is all of 10 years old but already has a tremendous stage presence - and some serious pipes. I will particularly note (with approval) that she pulled some difficult notes out of the air on entrances. One of the things that I love most about the local theater scene is that so many are devoting serious time and effort to training the next generation of thespians. (I know some of these people personally, and they deserve serious props.) Bakersfield tends to be the butt of jokes in national media, but we have a vibrant arts scene. It is easy to feel inferior living next door to a cultural Mecca like Los Angeles - but in many ways that competition has spurred us to a higher commitment to artistic values. 

Anyway, despite some eye-rolling at the dated plot, we had a good time. The music and acting carried the musical. And I’m still finding myself singing “Tomorrow.” 

 Stars publicity photo - unfortunately, they don't post enough of them. 

Green Day's American Idiot (Empty Space 2019)

Don't wanna be an American idiot

Don't want a nation under the new media

And can you hear the sound of hysteria?

The subliminal mind-fuck America

Welcome to a new kind of tension

All across the alien nation

Where everything isn't meant to be okay

Television dreams of tomorrow

We're not the ones who're meant to follow

For that's enough to argue

Well maybe I'm the faggot America

I'm not a part of a redneck agenda

Now everybody do the propaganda

And sing along to the age of paranoia

***

In doing my research for this post, I was startled to realize that the album, American Idiot, actually came out in 2004, which seems rather later than I thought. But I guess that is kind of the way it often works for me, given my, um, complicated, relationship with popular music. Maybe I should back up a bit and explain. 

Music is one of the most important parts of my life. I do not remember a time when I didn’t love music, and care deeply about music. Classical music in particular has been meaningful to me my entire lifetime. When I was very young, I remember snuggling in my parents’ bed after dark, listening to the classical program sponsored by a local utility. Somewhere around age 6, I saw a little friend of mine play a recital on violin, and I was struck by the idea that maybe I too could learn to play. I pestered my poor parents until they gave in and got me a violin and lessons for my 7th birthday. My mom probably deserves a sainthood for putting up with those first years until I got to the point where my playing was bearable. We didn’t have much money at that time, so even lessons were a stretch. But my mom also found a way to get a set of classical albums from a grocery store promotion, and from then on, classical has been a part of my listening. I worked my way from youth symphony to the grown up version around age 20, and have enjoyed making music with friends most of my life. 

So that’s the classical side. 

My dad always had a love for classic pop and rock from the 1960s, particularly The Beach Boys. I gained an introduction to that era from listening to the radio while driving around with him. 

Unfortunately, as I got to the age where I might learn the music of my own generation, my parents got into a bizarre bit of religious fanaticism on the subject of music. I don’t even remember the source or speaker on the tapes, but it basically tied all music that has an “African” origin - jazz, rock, pop, modern country, etc. - to “the devil’s music.” This idea was also a core part of Bill Gothard’s teaching, which dominated our family from my mid-teens onward.

This led to a huge tension in my life. I learned enough of the drums to play for our youth group and even fill in for the adult service. But I had to (more or less) lie to my mom that I played on beats 1 and 3 (God’s preference) rather than on 2 and 4 (the Devil’s beat). Which is - as any legitimate musician would know - utter bullshit. The history of Western music (and more) is that of bass on beats 1 and 3 and treble on 2 and 4. Basically, this whole thing was racism applied to music. Damn n----r beats, of course. 

So, my teen years were kind of a pantomime, in a way. Once I got my own car and license, I listened to stuff I liked (mostly learning the 60s and 70s on a good oldies station Bakersfield had at the time), playing music on drums, electric guitar, with actual syncopation. (Like, um, every classical composer too…) And, at the same time, trying not to freak my mom out any more than I had to. Which meant that I had to stay fully clear of anything actually modern on the radio. And certainly never listen to anything with a parental advisory on the cover. 

After I finally got a place of my own at age 22 - by which time the Internet had arrived - I had to go back and discover my own generation’s music. It has been a...process, shall we say. One thing I have had in my favor is a baseline of musical knowledge, which, along with a decent memory, allowed me to learn quickly. 

I do remember the first time I really listened to Green Day. It was around 1999 or so, when I was visiting friends (ironically, fellow Gothardites) who were a few years younger. We drove around Sonoma County in their Bronco and listened to forbidden music like Nirvana and Green Day - those were the two that stood out the most. Okay, and Weird Al Yankovic. 

It is hard to believe that American Idiot didn’t come out until a few years later, after I was married and had a couple kids. Somehow, the songs run together with the older ones of my first memory. 

So all this to come to the present. My eldest is, like me, a musical omnivore. This has meant a heck of a lot of fun, honestly. We saw Bohemian Rhapsody together (she’s a huge Queen fan), and we go to concerts and sing along with all the songs we know from the 60s to the 90s. When we saw that there was going to be a local production of American Idiot, we knew we had to go see it. 

I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from the show. I got busy and didn’t have a chance to go through the album in detail and figure it out, so I had to kind of follow things as they came. 

The basic idea of the musical is a very barebones plot to hold together the songs themselves. The album is even more vague than the musical, of course. It has a basic idea, and the beginning of a plot, but it never really figures out what happens. Which is fine: it’s a concept album that just happens to have some amazing songs that have aged really well. 

If I had it to do over again, I would have gone ahead and read the Wikipedia plot summary first, to make things easier to follow. Basically, this is what it is: three friends growing up in a suburban dystopia decide to leave for the big city to find themselves. One ends up staying behind after his girlfriend gets pregnant. Another tires of the city quickly and joins the army, getting seriously wounded in Iraq. The third spirals down into drug addiction before deciding to return home. Which is what all three end up doing after their escapades. 

TES publicity photo  

Obviously, the plot isn’t the main point here. The songs are the thing, and they have stood up to time surprisingly well. Written three years into the Iraq War - which has turned out to have been the first in an 18 year (and counting…) debacle of absolute self-fuckery. The poets have turned out to be prophets in the end. 

To me and those like me, this wasn’t obvious at the time. I was all in on the war, having seen the towers fall. It was rah, rah, shock ‘n’ awe and this was totally going to work and be over fast and not turn into another Vietnam because this time we weren’t going to leave but were going to blow the bad guys to kingdom come and fuck the naysayers because the liberals were all a bunch of pansies and…

Well, here we are 18 years later. My children have never known a time we weren’t at war. We have caused, in all likelihood, well north of a million civilian casualties - innocent victims we euphemize as “collateral damage.” Saddam and Osama have been replaced by ISIS and others, and I can’t honestly say that any place in the Middle East is better off than before we intervened. (Although, to be fair, our disastrous interference dates back to World War I…) We have a generation of soldiers (as in Vietnam) who are traumatized by their experiences, causing ongoing issues with homelessness, suicide, and general dysfunction. And, as problematic as George W. Bush was (and I voted for him, twice, don’t judge), now we have gone far beyond him to the delightful combination of idiocy and virulent hatred that is personified in Trump. And it sure looks like Green Day was prophetic about the future, with Fox News and racist rednecks and bigoted theocrats in power. Good god. The poets (and musicians) have been and continue to be our prophets. 

So, a bit about this production. First, the bad. I found the vocals to be uneven, with some intermittent pitch issues. Combined with this (and perhaps causing it) was the challenging logistics. The Empty Space is a very small venue, in an older strip mall. Although they used mics this time - most shows have been pure acoustic - there is still no way to get around the acoustical challenges of the venue. For some shows, the vocals have been outstanding, but others, not so much. This one was a mixed bag. Interestingly, the best parts were the ensemble numbers. I get the feeling that the members of the ensemble cast were more comfortable singing under difficult conditions than the leads, and were able to carry the pitch. So, as a musician myself, there were some moments where I really wished the pitch had been better. 

On the more positive side, I loved that TES got some live musicians. In particular, Alex Mitts (who has been a favorite of mine as an actor and singer in past productions) rocked it on guitar and general enthusiasm in the on-stage band. (Two guitars and bass were placed at backstage behind a chain link fence.) Kudos as well to Scott Deaton and Luis Velez (who also act!) - I’ve played for musicals myself, and it is a freaking difficult and thankless job. 

The most major change that TES made from the original was flipping the gender of the lead character. Johnny, and part of the alter-ego “St. Jimmy,” were performed by Gari Galanski, which meant a lesbian love scene, and a somewhat different take on the character. Maybe it is just our culture, but I found her version less offensive than it might have been with a male lead. The love story with “whatshername” seems more equal and less “hump and dump” than with a guy, and the drug use more tragic and less “hey, look at me, I’m a heroic druggie!” than I have seen with male-oriented biopics. (Think the difference between, say, Hendrix, and Amy Winehouse…) 

 Johnny (Gari Galanski) and "whatshername" (Nancee Stieger) shooting up.

Oddly, I knew a heck of a lot more about heroin as a kid than I did about contemporary music...thanks to The Cross and the Switchblade and other religious books about drugs and gangs.

I should at least mention a few of the other performers. Kelsey Morrow carried the vocal duties for “St. Jimmy,” and she was the best vocal lead in the production. Jake Wattenbarger as Tunny captured the anguish of of war and injury - and looked a hell of a lot like Billie Joe Armstrong, although Armstrong never played that particular part. Nolan Long, a regular at TES, was rather strong as Will, the pothead loser who stays home. I don’t think I had ever heard him sing, but he was pretty good. And amusing as usual. Nancee Steiger who is good at everything, shined in her part as “whatshername.” And a few in the ensemble who always bring an amazing energy to the dance numbers. (Please don’t take it wrong if I don’t mention you - the ensemble was excellent and everyone contributed.) Corissa Garcia, Aron Clugston, Markelle Taylor, Kiera Gill, and Elizabeth Bomar, you guys stood out for energy and engagement. Rock on. 

 Will (Nolan Long), Johnny (Gari Galanski), and Tunny (Jake Wattenbarger)

 St. Jimmy (Kelsey Morrow)

As usual, I must commend The Empty Space for fantastic set design. From the floor (which had the entire song list) to the rolling couch to the slogans and posters on the walls, the atmosphere was perfect. Kudos to directors Perrin Swanson (no relation, but proud to share the name) and Mystie Peters for their vision for this. 

This show runs through the 23rd, so local folks might want to see it. TES is criminally inexpensive, so I never feel bad about grabbing a ticket and a cocktail or coffee there. Give it a shot.

***

Some personal stuff: 

During my first real crisis of faith this decade, a few Green Day songs have been meaningful to me. None more so than the quintessential misused graduation song, “Good Riddance.” That song was kind of my own personal anthem to both persons and institutions that were abusive to me and mine. Naturally, it has a badass violin part. If I hadn’t had a symphony concert in the middle of the run, I would have accepted the invite to be part of this production. Sigh. The sacrifices we make for art…

Anyway, I’ll just mention “Boulevard of Broken Dreams,” “Holiday,” “Extraordinary Girl,” “Wake Me Up When September Ends,” and “21 Guns” as additional favorites as songs from the musical. Again, “Holiday” seems to anticipate the Trump era in so many ways. Yeah, let’s embrace authoritarianism, wrap ourselves in the flag and faith, throw the Nazi salute at Il Toupeee, and kill the “fags” who disagree. Yeah, fuck that. 

So many of these songs speak to me. “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” is one of my all time favorite songs, and the video was filmed in my beloved Mojave Desert.  It has been a source of bonding with my eldest.

But is has to be “Good Riddance” that has been the genuine soundtrack for my break from, well, a lot of things. Evangelicalism, of course. But really, Billie Joe Armstrong wrote it as a breakup song for an ex, and it really captures the bittersweet essence of breaking up with...whatever. I have never had a nasty romantic breakup (that goes along with marrying your first real girlfriend - who is an amazing woman who you truly want to spend the rest of your life with), but I have had some truly traumatic breakups with my religious tradition and certain members of my extended family, some of whom I have retained a  relationship with - in a decidedly modified form - and others of which I have no relationship with because of their abusive behavior. And ditto for a few people in my religious history who went behind my back to propagate hate. 

Yet, when I look back, my personal and religious background also made me who I am. 

So take the photographs and still frames in your mind

Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time

Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial

For what it's worth it was worth all the while

That’s absolutely me. I am, for better or for worse, a product of my upbringing. The good and bad of my parents, religion, religious leaders, politics, and extended family. My 40 years spent in Evangelicalism, my upbringing in Cultural Fundamentalism. Those memories and dead skin on trial - they made me who I am. Were they worth it? Hell if I know, but it’s not like I had a choice when it came to my family. And I can’t say I really should have known to reject my religious tradition until it became obviously toxic. There were good times too. It made me what I am, for better or for worse. 

But, as I have deconstructed things over the last decade or so, “Good Riddance” has been on my playlist for those late nights when I have been working through my baggage. In some ways, it has been permission to let go of those ideas - and people - who have been toxic in my life. 

Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road

Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go

So make the best of this test and don't ask why

It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time

Those moments, those turning points in my past (and I can think of specific dates…) were indeed moments when time grabbed me by the wrist, and I had no real choice where to go. It wasn’t so much that I had a real decision to make, as that I had to learn a lesson. Evangelicalism wasn’t some benign religion, but a fucking white supremacist political movement. My family wasn’t ever going to truly accept the choices my wife and I made, but would insist on imposing 1850s gender roles and expectations on us. It was a lesson learned in time. I don’t really have to ask why (although I certainly do ask why, as a matter of theological necessity to myself), but I do have to learn the lesson. I hope I have. 

But at every major turning point in the road over the last decade, I have played this song as I have tried to deconstruct my own trauma. There is something about it, the combination of rejection of the past with the acknowledgement that who we are is totally about the reality we were raised in, that resonates with us Fundie survivors today. I wouldn’t give up who I am, even as I acknowledge how my past has traumatized me. And yes, Green Day is part of who I am as well. And for that I am thankful. 

Matilda the Musical (Ovation 2019)

I read quite a few Roald Dahl books when I was a kid. However, for some reason, I never did read Matilda. My memory of 35 years ago isn’t terribly detailed, but I am guessing that this was probably the result of a few factors. First, my mom wasn’t fond of truly naughty children in books - and even less fond of stupid parents in books. So, I might have not heard about it because she wasn’t interested in having us read the book. Also, it was marketed (by, say, the book cover) as being a girls’ book - this was the 80s, after all. So it might not have caught my eye, or been placed with other books of interest to girls in the library display. Or maybe I read the back and didn’t find it interesting. Whatever the case was, I didn’t read it. 

However, on a road trip (prior to my starting this blog), we listened to it on audiobook, and I found it quite enjoyable. 

There were a few reasons I was determined to see the local stage version. First, a legal colleague was in it. Second, a few of my musical colleagues were playing in the band. And third, the cast list included some of my favorite local actors. So, we went. 

For those few unfamiliar with the book, Matilda is a seriously precocious child, born into an unappreciative family. Dad is a shady used car salesman, while mom is a former dancer who hates that Matilda essentially ended her career. They can’t understand why she reads books rather than watching “the telly.” When she goes off to school, she makes friends with her teacher, Miss Honey, who appreciates her. And also makes an enemy of the brutal headmaster, Miss Trunchbull. Matilda must find a way to keep her beloved books, while defending her classmates from the wrath of Trunchbull. I won’t spoil the plot. Fortunately, the play hews pretty closely to the book. 

The production we saw was at the Ovation Theater, one of several local theaters in our vibrant arts scene. 

Because Matilda has a large number of children in the cast, I will mention them first. The part of Matilda is a huge one, requiring solid vocal chops and a lot of charisma. This production had two actors alternating in the role. We saw Kya Leyendecker in the role. She was outstanding, and I think worth keeping an eye on as she grows up. 

Kya Levendecker as Matilda 

(All photos: Ovation publicity photo)

I can’t individually mention all the rest, but I was thoroughly impressed with their preparation, acting, and especially their excellent pitch. The kids obviously put in long hours practicing, and their teachers are to be commended. This bodes well for the future of the arts in our town. 

As far as the adult parts, I want to mention a few. First, Braeden Addison, who played multiple parts, including the Russian mobster. He is an Ovation regular, and always makes me smile. Riordan Banks was hilarious as Rudulfo, the dance partner and possible paramour of Matilda’s mother. David Allen (another regular in local theater) as Mr. Wormwood, Matilda’s father, was perfectly cast. And even more perfectly dressed. That loud plaid suit was amazing. Erica Briscoe, as Mrs. Phelps the librarian, turned in a solid performance in one of the few truly straight roles. 

David Allen as Mr. Wormwood (plaid suit), Braeden Addison (kneeling) as Sergei

Tara Haner (blonde in rear) as Mrs. Wormwood, Riordan Banks (right rear) as Rudolfo

 That suit demands a closer look. And that tie...

I may be biased, but I thought that Tara Haner, my legal colleague, was hilarious as Mrs. Wormwood. She portrayed the ditzy dancer as kind of an Oildale meets Keeping Up Appearances low class, high volume sort. Her squeaky voice was perfect - and I am impressed she kept both that and the Cockney accent while both acting and singing. That’s tough stuff, and she nailed it. 

Nancee Steiger (Miss Honey), Riordan Banks (Rudolfo), and Tara Haner (Mrs. Wormwood)

Nancee Steiger (Miss Honey) has long been one of my favorite local actors. It really is a shame she isn’t in more productions. (Past favorites of mine were If/Then, Assassins, and The Glass Menagerie.) As Miss Honey, she nailed the earnestness and deer-in-the-headlights look necessary for the part. 

 

 Dominic Demay (Trunchbull) and Nancee Steiger (Miss Honey)

Finally, I have to commend Dominic Demay for his turn as Trunchbull. He too is an Ovation regular, last seen getting impaled by a slot machine handle (while singing You Make Me Live) in Disaster! I cannot think of a better person to play Trunchbull, as he brought the menace, and the overwhelming stage presence that a Trunchbull requires. Not a bad little flip move either. 

The band deserves some love too - despite difficult logistics (it’s a really small theater), they brought it. Kudos to Ovation for hiring real musicians. 

Matilda runs two more weekends, so if you are local and have a chance, definitely go see it. 

***

Not directly related to the play, but interesting: The Irregulars by Jennet Conant, which is the story of Roald Dahl’s career as a spy in World War Two…against the United States.  

Disaster! (Ovation Theater 2019)

Ovation Theater had a special for Father’s Day weekend, so we decided to take a chance and go see this. The basic premise is a send-up of 1970s disaster movies, built around iconic music from the era. Make no mistake, the lines are cheesy, the dialogue silly, and everything is way over the top. There were some flaws in the execution. But it was fun. 

The musical takes place on a casino boat, run by the shady Tony (Jason McClain). A variety of characters happen to be on board. Reporter Marianne (Nichole Michelle) tries to uncover illegal operating conditions on the boat. Dour disaster expert Ted (Rikk Cheshire) attempts to warn the passengers and crew of impending disaster. Sister Mary Downy (Renee Cleek) tries to warn everyone they are going to hell - even as she fights her own gambling addiction. Faded Disco star Levora Verona (Caitlin Wolfenstein) hopes to banish her debts with a lucky chance. Older couple Maury and Shirley (real life couple Adam & Terri Cline) are hoping to celebrate retirement. Also featured are dancer Jackie (Erika Kimmel) and her twin children Lisa and Ben (both played by Ellie King), waiters Chad and Scott (Derrek Reed and Dominic Demay), and assorted minor crew and guests.

Never exactly explained is how the combination of poor pier construction and disco dancing is expected to trigger an earthquake and tsunami - the idea is supposed to be silly of course. But disaster does come, and the characters must find a way to survive...or not.

The plot itself exists primarily to set up the songs. Which are used mostly in completely inappropriate ways. For example, “You’re My Best Friend” by Queen, sung by an impaled and dying Scott. Or “Torn Between Two Lovers” sung by Sister Mary Downy to describe the call of religion and the slot machine. Or a dispute about whose watch is more accurate (while the boat is sinking, of course) leading to “25 or 6 to 4.” That’s to say nothing of “Feelings,” or “Knock Three Times.” Part of the fun was trying to guess which song was being set up by the dialogue. (It’s rather like trying to guess the punchline of a terrible pun.)

As I noted, there was some unevenness to this production. One of the good parts was the use of a live band. (I also knew some of the musicians - it’s a close musical community in this town.) The downside to this was that disco beats (from my former community college orchestra director Robbie Martinez) can only be played at a certain volume level. With a small space and limited backstage, this meant that sound levels were challenging. Additionally, we had a very enthusiastic person behind us, who laughed or cheered during dialogue or songs - which we then missed. Keeping the vocals audible was a challenge - I appreciate that, having been there myself. The other issue that the mixing posed was a certain disconnect between the band and vocals. They couldn’t see each other (except, presumably on video), and the singers had a bit of difficulty finding the pitch with the drums and bass louder than the midrange.

On the plus side, the actors didn’t mail this one in, but really bought into the cheese. Performances were rather over the top and exaggerated - exactly what was needed in this case. I particularly thought Derrek Reed as Chad was hilarious during his musical numbers. In general, the others were somewhere between decent and excellent.

Just a few other things to mention. The ongoing gag of Ben and Lisa - with quick hair changes being the only way you could tell them apart - including some visual gags involving hands - was pretty funny. Likewise, the use of disembodied arms and legs. And piranhas.

Anyway, we found it entertaining in a silly way. As did the kids. If you are a Kern County local, the show runs the next two weekends.

https://theovationtheatre.com/disaster/

The Last Five Years by Jason Robert Brown (Empty Space 2019)

This is one of those plays I had never heard of but decided to go see just because it was an Empty Space production and I had an evening free with my date. It also sounded like an intriguing concept.

The basic idea is that there are two actors, portraying Jamie and Cathy, a couple who meet, fall in love, get married, grow apart, and split up, all within five years. Their stories are told in reverse order, so Jamie starts his with them falling in love, while Cathy starts hers with the aftermath of the breakup. As the play progresses, they meet briefly in the middle, during the wedding. Then, we see his progression toward the breakup, while her story goes back in time to the beginning.

Furthermore, there is essentially no dialogue, and nearly everything is told through song, not spoken lines. It is an interesting way of putting a play together - but also a challenging one to pull off. The hardest part, in my opinion, is creating chemistry when the two actors are rarely on stage together, and when they are, the either interact solely through acting, not dialogue, and are often even at different places in the story. The second hardest part is pulling off the challenging music. More about that later.

Jason Robert Brown wrote this play - and the music and score and everything - it is essentially a one-man show. That is pretty impressive from the level of difficulty. Wagner, of course, did the same thing, although his were decidedly longer and more turgid, although they contained some of the most transcendent music of all time. There are pitfalls to this approach, however. One of which is that generally either the music or the poetry is good, but rarely if ever both. In this case, I think both had some issues. The music was sometimes a bit too obscure to serve the plot, and the stream-of-consciousness lyrics were sometimes a bit hard to follow.

The play was apparently inspired (if that is the right word) by Brown’s own failed marriage. When the play first came out, she threatened to sue him. He changed one song so it wasn’t quite as obviously autobiographical. The irony of this is that Brown actually wrote the play so that “his” character, Jamie, is pretty unsympathetic. Bluntly, he is an asshole most of the play, obsessed with his career, callous about Cathy’s own failures, and fully expectant that she will be the little trophy wife and go to all his publicity stuff with him. And then, he cheats on her, and then complains that “I could never rescue you.” Ouch. I have to wonder if Brown’s ex-wife actually listened to the play, because she comes off as the better person.

The Empty Space took an interesting approach to the casting. They cast two actors in each role, and then used each combination - a total of four - for different nights. In addition, while two women (Megan Jarrett and Ellie Sivesind) played the part of Cathy, the role of Jamie was split between male and female (namely, Alex Mitts, and Baeleigh Bevan.) This meant that there were two opposite sex couples, and two same sex couples. I was only able to see one particular combination - Jarrett and Bevan - so I cannot say how the other combinations worked. Although it is safe to assume that each combination had a different feel to it. 

 Ellie Sivesind and Alex Mitts

 Megan Jarrett and Baeleigh Bevan

One of the advantages of seeing this performed by a same sex couple is this: all the stupid male privilege and entitlement looks a bit different when it is a woman doing it. So, as a great example, one of the better songs, “A Miracle Would Happen,” is Jamie’s experience being the popular guy that all the girls hit on. Seriously. Read the lyrics. Jamie is a total asshole, and it sounds even more horrifying when it is a woman singing the lyrics. (Blame my gender essentialist upbringing for my response to that.) Once you strip away the “boys will be boys” and the wink and nudge about supposed male sexuality, and see a woman treat another one that way, it is pretty clear that it is just atrocious behavior.

I should mention the other really clever song, “Audition Sequence,” which is brutally honest about the pressure that theater puts on women.

As a musician, I did find the score to be fascinating. The style is pretty broad, from pop and rock to jazz, classical, and klezmer. And within that, the keys are ambiguous and rapidly modulating, the time signatures and tempos variable. As a result, the vocal demands are really high, and the songs difficult to pull off. The instrumentation is sparse and eclectic: piano, acoustic guitar, bass, violin, and two cellos. At first, I thought is was a string quartet - because the one cello essentially takes the role of both viola and second violin. Which means you had better have a badass cellist. TES has no space for live musicians, so it was a recording. I would have love to play this score, though, challenging as it would be. It is quite impressive how Brown covers the various musical genres without a drummer. In my opinion, the score is the strongest part of the musical for that reason.

The downside of this, though, is that the vocal demands are really high. I’m hardly a great singer, and couldn’t even fumble my way through this. But as a violinist, I know enough to see the difficulty level. The venue didn’t help, either, as TES doesn’t use microphones, and the audience is a full 270 degrees, so it is imperative that vocalists make sure every nuance comes through.

So, even though I hate to say something negative about a local production, the vocals were a weak point. Specifically, there were times when Bevan simply could not be heard. We were seated at stage right, and when she turned to the left, we just lost the voice completely. This was particularly an issue when the song took her down into the low range, or when there were a lot of those stream-of-consciousness lyrics where every word is crucial. So, for her opening song, “Shiksa Goddess,” I didn’t figure out the key point that Cathy isn’t Jewish - which is why Jamie’s mother is going to freak out in a way that she wouldn’t even if Cathy came from an incestuous family. I just lost too many of the lyrics to get the picture.

To be fair to Bevan, she was covering a “male” part, so the low range may have been a struggle for her anyway. And then add the difficult pacing and often unusual syntax, and I sympathise. I got the impression that she actually sings quite well, but that this had just too many difficulties for her to overcome. That said, I will forgive a lot, but I have to be able to hear the lyrics. On the plus side, I thought Bevan did a fine job of making Jamie a more nuanced character, not just the jerk his part suggests.

Jarrett was better. I think the range was more comfortable for her, and she just belted it out. I will give particular credit to her for some extended notes that she held without going the least bit flat. Because I have played enough music theater to have winced at plenty of otherwise outstanding performances which suffered from at least one note that deflated by the end.

Singing aside, I thought both actors did pretty well considering they rarely got to interact. The format is interesting, to be sure, but does make it difficult to really see if there is chemistry between the actors. As with the songs, I would have liked to have seen if any of the other combinations made a strong connection despite the challenges.

With the flaws aside, I do want to give TES credit for trying unusual works, and not just recycling the same 20 favorite musicals and plays. Not everything always comes together perfectly, but credit for taking some risks.

One final note: as usual, TES has such creative sets in a small space. The whole exploding clock thing was excellent. Credit to Brian Sivesind and Jesus Fidel for their design - and to the small army of volunteers who bring every set to life.

Crazy For You by George and Ira Gershwin and Ken Ludwig (Stars 2019)

George and Ira Gershwin occupy an interesting place in my history. Both of my parents enjoy classical music - a good thing with three string player children - but they have one significant source of disagreement. My dad likes George Gershwin - in part because of the old United Airlines ads using Rhapsody in Blue. (He was an amateur pilot and professional air traffic controller back in the day.) My mom? Not so much. She never has liked jazz in any of its forms, and Gershwin’s jazzy harmonies and blue notes never did it for her. So, my dad and I would listen to Gershwin, and she would tune it out as best she could.

Later, I met my now wife Amanda. She loves the whole era of music, from classical to jazz to Broadway. In particular, she loves Ella Fitzgerald. Over the course of our courtship and early marriage, I carefully collected the Songbooks in CD form off of Ebay one at a time. The first one was the George and Ira Gershwin songbook - four disks of delicious interpretations of classic American tunes with witty lyrics. During our day trips out to the beach, we played these over and over, and I got pretty familiar with them. (For the record, “Nice Work If You Can Get It” is one of “our” songs.)

In 2001, which would either have been right before or right after we got married, I had a chance to play Crazy For You with what was then Bakersfield Music Theater (now Stars/BMT) when they played at the Harvey auditorium. Back then, they had the budgets and the space to hire a larger orchestra - including strings, which are so rare these days. When you are in the pit, you can’t see everything, but there were some extended scenes without music, so I had a pretty good idea of the plot.

I enjoyed that experience so much that I jumped at the chance to see it again, 18 years later.

While George Gershwin died in 1937, and many of the musicals his songs appeared in have been largely forgotten, the songs themselves have endured. In 1992, Ken Ludwig did an extensive re-write of an original Gershwin musical, Girl Crazy, added in other songs by the Gershwins, and created Crazy For You. While the plots have some similarity, Crazy For You does differ from the original in many ways - even more than the three Hollywood adaptations of Girl Crazy.

My wife described the plot to our kids as “Every musical’s plot: boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back. There is singing and dancing.” Which is pretty accurate. There is, of course, a little more to it than that. Boy (Bobby Child) is an aspiring song and dance man stuck working for his mommy’s predatory bank. He tries to get Broadway impresario Bela Zangler (modeled after Florenz Ziegfeld) to notice him, but is repeatedly rebuffed. He does, however, win the hearts of the showgirls. Mommy sends him to an old Nevada mining town to foreclose on an old theater. Upon arrival, he falls hard for the girl (Polly Baker), the daughter of the theater owner. She learns who he is, however, and rejects him. He then has the brilliant idea of disguising himself as Zangler, and inviting the showgirls (who are on vacation) out to put on a show to save the theater. In disguise, he wins Polly’s heart. And then the real Zangler shows up, chasing head showgirl Tess. Hilarity, love, songs, and dancing ensue. 

In this local production, the cast was pretty close to a “who’s who” of local dance and song talent, featuring some of my favorite actors. In a reprise of the pairing in My Fair Lady at The Empty Space last fall, the lead parts were played by Tevin Joslen and Tessa Ogles. While it was obvious from previous productions that both can sing and dance quite well, Crazy For You was a real showcase of their talents. Joslen had several extended tap and soft shoe sequences which were excellent. Ogles got to expand her big voice into a larger space, and she had no difficulty filling the theater. The two of them have believable on-stage chemistry as a couple (or as frenemies in My Fair Lady.) Unfortunately, it appears that Joslen is moving on to bigger things, departing for Los Angeles. Bakersfield has enjoyed his talent the last couple of years and he will be missed. (I will never forget that epic tea-spitting in My Fair Lady, or his riveting performance as Belize in Angels In America.)

Kevin McDonald has been one of my favorite local actors since I saw him in Twelfth Night as Malvolio. (His single hand practically deserved its own billing.) As Bela Zangler, he was as good as ever, from the crusty and dismissive producer of the first act, to the pathetic heartbroken drunk in the musical’s best scene (see below), he was perfectly in character. 

 Tevin Joslen and Kevin McDonald

Selfie shamelessly stolen from Kevin McDonald

The supporting cast was quite good as well. I’ll give special mention to stage veteran Paula Einstein as the controlling Mrs. Child, Brian Purcell as saloon owner and villain Lank, and Kelsea Johnson as Bobby’s wannabe fiancee Irene. (And also, Perrin Swanson’s facial hair, which, along with his coif, deserves an award for its many manifestations over the last 12 months.)

I was particularly impressed with the extensive choreography in this production - it was definitely more involved than any show I have seen locally in decades. I already mentioned Joslen and Ogles, but there were quite a few in the dance corps who brought a lot of energy, precision, and athleticism to the production. 

 Tessa Ogles (top) and assorted cast in one of the ensemble dance scenes.

Stars/BMT publicity photo.

There are two scenes which I think deserve some comment. The first is the one between Irene and Lank. Smarting from her rejection by Bobby, Irene seduces Lank while singing “Naughty Baby,” playing up her kinky side. I remember this being a pretty steamy scene when I did it before - although I was a bit more prudish then, so who knows. At the angle I was at, there were definitely unmentionables visible, and the two actors involved set the scene up with a fairly nasty edge. In contrast, Purcell and Johnson were more toward the PG end of the spectrum. A lot of that has to do with who they are as actors (and perhaps as people too.) Purcell excels as the loveable boy next door, the nice, quiet guy you bring home to meet your parents. Because of this, his version of Lank isn’t a melodrama-style cackling villain, but the goofy and hapless comic villain. He just wants to expand his saloon, and maybe even help out the theater owner by buying him out, but he gets bullied by the Fodors and caught by a designing, if sexy, woman. Likewise, Johnson literally thanked her wonderful boyfriend and God in her program blurb, which is definitely more “good girl next door” than dominatrix. She definitely nailed the uptight pissy feline in her scenes with Mrs. Child, but wasn’t quite a sex kitten later. So this version was a bit different than the last I saw.

Don’t get me wrong - I actually thought the scene worked well. Here’s why. With Johnson’s initial characterization, her later seduction was believable as the “librarian gone wild” kind of kinky seduction. Behind the facade, she is sexy and even mildly kinky. But you never forget - and she never forgets - who she is. This is then combined with Purcell’s naive and goofy villany, and he looks genuinely shocked and stricken when she unexpectedly goes after him. Even her mild naughtiness threatens to overwhelm him. The two of them are a match, which is why I could see them living happily ever after - rather than worrying they would kill each other someday.

  Brian Purcell (center, seated) and Kelsea Johnson in "Naughty Baby." 

Also, to Johnson's right, Perrin Swanson's facial hair.

Stars/BMT publicity photo.

The very best scene, though, is the “two Zanglers.” Both Bobby (in disguise) and the real Zangler, reeling from rejection by their respective flames, get fall-down drunk, and stagger into the hotel with their bottles, and proceed to pour out their grievances in song. The whole time, they mirror each others actions, and in fact appear to think they are seeing themselves in a mirror. This requires, naturally, a great deal of coordination, and careful memorization of every gesture for a scene which lasts a solid ten minutes. The humor is all in the gestures, the facial expressions, and the irony. Particularly delightful are the places where one Zangler fails to precisely mirror the other. This causes a momentary confusion, before they decide the mistake was just an artifact of the booze. 

Done well, this scene is the true peak of the musical. A few factors really made this scene pop for me (and for my kids - seeing this for the first time - thought it was hilarious.) First, Kevin and Tevin do not look alike, even with the makeup. Kevin is, like me, “fun size,” while Tevin is quite tall. The age gap (sorry, Kevin) is significant (although this is accurate to the story), and the athleticism gap is even greater. So the whole idea that Polly might mistake them for each other is humorous to start with. However, what they share is key: they both are fantastic physical actors with impressive skills at gesture and language. They actually sound fairly similar, and move their bodies with the same movements. So, in this scene, they may not be physical twins, but they are convincing as the same character. Also, both nailed the stumbling drunk schtick. I’m surprised neither of them hurt themselves with those falls. I guess you practice it until you get it right. I went into this scene with high expectations, and I was not disappointed.

While most of the show was great, I was a little disappointed by the Fodors. After a brief attempt at the British accent, which never quite worked, they pretty much gave up. Perhaps they should have enlisted Ron Warren or Mendy McMasters to help with that, given their attention to linguistic detail.

Let’s see: acting, choreography, singing...oh yes, good sets and costumes too. I can’t think of any sour notes there.

One more mention: while lacking strings, the seven piece live band sounded great. Brock Christian, conducting from the piano, followed the singers well, and handled the many tempo changes fearlessly. As I noted, I have played this one, so I remember the challenges. (I’m also totally biased because I know several of the band from my other musical gigs.) It always makes me happy when there is live music, so applause for the musicians is well warranted.

Living in Bakersfield presents one with a dilemma: contrary to popular belief, there is actually a lot going on here. The arts community is particularly vibrant with (at last count) over a half dozen drama venues (plus the colleges and high schools), the Symphony (shameless plug!), art shows, live music, and more. It is impossible for me to see everything, alas. However, I am grateful for the opportunity to experience a sampling of the passion and talent that so many in our community bring to the arts.