Showing posts with label Magic Theatre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Magic Theatre. Show all posts

Thursday, June 22, 2017

"Grandeur" at Magic Theatre

I have mentioned before that Carl Lumbly is one of my favorite Bay Area actors. I first noticed his work on television back in the 80s or 90s, and I was quite thrilled when he started appearing more frequently on local stages a few years ago. Now having seen him a couple of times at SF Playhouse, plus at ACT and a reading to benefit TheatreFIRST, I really look forward to every opportunity to see his work. When friends recommended that we catch the performance of Grandeur at the Magic Theatre, I hadn't realized that Lumbly was featured in it. Buying tickets only a few days before the show, we ended up with separate single tickets in the front row, and I have to say, that was a tremendous bonus.

The show only runs through this coming weekend, but before I get to all the other comments, just let me say: Go see this show, if only to watch Carl Lumbly.

The play is a world premiere of a work by Han Ong, a writer whose work I did not know before, though he has worked at the Magic previously, some 25 years ago.

The Play

Grandeur is set in 2010, in the dark, cave-like apartment of Gil Scott-Heron in New York City. Scott-Heron has just released his first album in 16 years, causing quite a stir, and he is suddenly the subject of much interest in the musical press, being known as the "godfather of hip-hop" in some circles. He is also addicted to crack cocaine. A public fixture in both music and letters at one time, he is now reclusive and withdrawn into his own little world. But with the release of an album, he is suddenly recapturing attention, wanted or not.

The play centers on the visit of a young writer, a fan of Scott-Heron, who wants to interview him for a piece to be submitted to the New York Review of Books. The writer, Steve Barron, finds the whole process quite daunting, and struggles a bit getting started with the curmudgeonly Scott-Heron. But he persists, getting past the gatekeeper, "Miss Julie," who may or may not be Scott-Heron's niece. Over the course of an afternoon, Barron manages to establish some rapport with his subject, and the two converse on a variety of topics that might eventually produce an article or an interview or a blog posting.

Ultimately what we learn is that the real interviews of this period were all pretty much of a piece, and Ong speculates in this play how an interview might have played out with a different sort of interviewer and a different sort of interview. The point is made clearly that all the stock interviews were done by pretty much interchangeable, white reporters. One of the things that intrigues Scott-Heron here is that Barron is also a person of color, though he pokes some fun at Barron's choices of shoes and clothes.

Even when not the focus of the dialogue, the topics of race, class, generational differences, and privilege are never far from the surface.

The Production

The set effectively captures the image of a man withdrawn from normal life, living isolated, largely in the dark, with his memories, his words, and his crack pipe. As Gil Scott-Heron, Carl Lumbly is completely captivating and convincing. He manages to portray a wizened, road-weary, and thoughtful wordsmith who has largely chosen not to share his work with others. From my vantage point at the end of the front row, I was literally the closest person to Lumbly for much of the evening, and the opportunity to watch the nuanced details of his performance was priceless. For the entire duration of the show, even when he was not in the focus of the action, he was never still, never relaxed or taking it easy: he was always working his character.

Rafael Jordan portrays Barron, the in-over-his-head writer who desperately wants to get this interview, but at some level also wants something else, something personal. Miss Julie (Safiya Fredericks) has her own opinions of what is going on here, expressing the belief that Barron's arrival portends ill for Scott-Heron.

As the play runs, we learn much more about Barron, though he remains somewhat enigmatic, and his motivations are ultimately unsure to us. Scott-Heron, on the other hand, is largely what we know him to be at the outset, talented and aging, reluctant to provide anything but stock answers, deflecting questions he doesn't really want to ask.

The Reaction

This is a really good piece of work. The writing feels very smooth, with the dialogue flowing quite naturally among the characters. Miss Julie, though she has the least stage time, is a truly interesting character, filling various roles as "niece," caretaker, roommate, and protector, stepping in as Scott-Heron's alter ego when necessary. The dance between their characters is obviously ongoing, though we have no idea when it started, where it came from, and so on. Then Barron drops in as kind of a fish-out-of-water, and for a while no one is quite sure what to make of anyone else.

So it's utterly absorbing. Lumbly dominates, both as the central figure in the drama, but also as the most convincing actor throughout. During one exchange about his addition, I could swear he was about to tear a chunk out of the arm of the upholstered chair he was sitting in. His tension was visible and palpable, but not allowed to vent through action or words. And without going into too much detail, I'll just say that he returns to the set before the intermission ends, and is already fully in character throughout, though you might not expect it in context. From beginning to end, Lumbly gives one of the finest performances I've seen on a Bay Area stage, ever.

The play is quite clever and effective in focusing on one imagined day, alluding to real events and people in Scott-Heron's life without having to portray them. He gets to react to things related through interview questions or off-handed comments by Miss Julie, and we can read about them in the program or online. By staying within itself and not trying to incorporate things outside, the play feels much more true and powerful.

The Aftermath

As is becoming more common these days, the Magic hosted a conversation after the performance. Most of the audience chose not to stay, and in retrospect, they were wise. When done well, these talk-back sessions can be enlightening. This was not one of those.

The Magic staffer who ran the session spoke very softly, even when multiple audience members asked her to speak up. She started with a couple of pretty generic questions ("What stuck with you about the play?") without much reaction or followup. When the actors came back out, they sat off on the side, behind a post from the remaining audience, so it was essentially impossible to see or hear them or address them directly.

All in all, quite frustrating, because a well-prepared, well directed talk-back can be enlightening for both the company and the audience. I got the feeling that both sides here felt it was just a waste of time. Too bad.

And also too bad because it rather detracted from what was otherwise an extremely effective and powerful play, with a dynamic and discussion-worthy ending. Had they chosen to take off from there, it might have been a more effective part of the evening and made the overall production more effective, not less.

Bottom Line

But any criticisms notwithstanding, this is an outstanding play and cast. If you can see it this weekend, you should. It closes on June 25th.

Friday, October 28, 2016

"Nogales" at Magic Theatre

Timing is everything. In humor. In theater. And Magic Theatre had great timing with their turn in the rolling world premiere of Richard Montoya's "Nogales." I don't get to the Magic very often, so I often miss out on their good stuff. I'd been hearing about this one, and since I like Montoya's work, I made a point of getting to one of the shows at the start of the closing weekend.

And as coincidences go, seeing this right after seeing "Into the Beautiful North" the previous week at Central Works was excellent. One of my thoughts while seeing the earlier show was that I would kind of like to see it handled with just a little more sharpness and polish, which I've come to expect from Montoya and his sometime collaborator Sean San Jose (who directed "Nogales" as well as appearing in it). So I kind of got my wish, in that this is their take on some of the same kinds of issues.

The Play

Nogales is a border town in the Mexican state of Sinaloa. Being on the border opposite Arizona, it is a frequent point of departure for immigrants trying to sneak over/under/through the border fence and across the Sonoran desert into the US. A key event, referenced throughout the play, is the shooting of Jose Antonio Elena Rodriguez in Nogales, by a US Border Patrol agent on the other side of the fence. Fifteen times. Indeed, Rodriguez is a silent presence throughout the play.

The other major character in the play is Maricopa County (Arizona) Sheriff Joe Arpaio, crusader against illegal immigration, currently being prosecuted in federal court for repeatedly violating court orders designed to stop his office's ongoing racial profiling.

The early part of the play is largely Arpaio (played brilliantly by Montoya) introducing himself, his office, and his work. Based on actual interviews with Arpaio, it's disarmingly funny, but disturbing all the same. Watching him dance around interview questions and dodge difficult questions is like watching a master at work: He's slippery and evasive, but so engaging that you almost feel bad for hating what he's saying.

So a lot of that part of the play is really about understanding Sheriff Joe and how he can hang on to his position for so long, despite clearly standing in opposition to federal law and court orders.

The rest of the play is less sharp, less focused. We meet various characters in and around Nogales and the Sonoran desert. One thing that becomes clear is that the border, the division between the countries, is not nearly as well defined as the wall would have you believe. And yet, there it is, turning a shooting into an international incident.

The Production

The literal center of the production is a room that serves mostly as Sheriff Joe's office, but surrounded by a diorama that is meant to be Nogales in miniature, backed by video screens that show scenes from Nogales and the desert. Unfortunately, the structure of the Magic, with four large pillars holding up the ceiling around the stage, blocks a lot of the sight lines, particularly from the side seats where we sat. So much of the video was either invisible or largely occluded. It didn't help that one of the projection screens (the one easiest for us to see) went mostly dark in the middle of the play. Ah, technology!

So I think (and indeed, know, from talking to friends who were sitting in front of the stage instead of to the side) being able to take in the video along with the acting would have been more powerful. The play is largely a collaboration between Montoya, San Jose, and video designer/photographer Joan Osato. I don't feel like I can really evaluate how much Osato's work contributed to the impact of the show.

The acting ensemble does a reasonable job, but the star of the show is definitely Montoya as the aw-shucks, have a beer, kindly but weird uncle Joe. They have clearly adapted the text to include digs from current events ("bad hombres," "nasty women," etc.), and of course the "build the wall" theme. So it's a terrific look at how the wall and the border and the whole southwestern desert shapes the dialogue not just locally, but nationwide.

Conclusion

I thought the play was worth seeing, if only to catch Montoya and San Jose working together. I love their work, and Montoya in particular shines in this role. Things go a little off the rails late, as Montoya narrates a kind of "Heart of Darkness"/"Apocalypse Now" gonzo travelogue through the desert, but the overall impact is still good. As a play, it's probably not quite as good as another Montoya/San Jose collaboration I saw a couple of years ago ("The River" at Campo Santo), but it's still worth seeing.

But I need to remember to buy tickets earlier so I can sit in a better part of the theater next time.