Tag Archives: Margaret M. Ledford
City Theatre’s production of Building the Wall opens with audio of then-candidate Donald Trump spewing some of his more incendiary anti-immigration rhetoric. The first line has yet to be spoken, and already you can feel your blood pressure start to rise.
The 21st Century paradigm for developing new plays in on display this month at Palm Beach Dramaworks’ Dramaworkshop “developmental” production of Jennifer Faletto’s Domestic Animals.
Hardly unusual in musical theater, Meredith Bartmon strolls around the Carnival Studio stage singing passionately about her dreams and, later, her refusal to compromise those dreams. But this isn’t a two-and-half-hour epic on a national tour; this is one of nine 10-minute playlets in City Theatre’s 21st edition of Summer Shorts.
The ever-developing Summer Shorts Festival, now entering its 21st year in Miami, will sound a bit different this year: two of the ten-minute works will be musicals.
In Thinking Cap Theatre’s Waiting For Waiting For Godot, the absurdity of life is moved from the center stage spotlight of Samuel Beckett’s play in progress to the dingy dark wings where two understudies are waiting in vain to go on.
Intriguing premises are the jumping off points for the nine flights of theatrical whimsy in City Theatre’s annual festival of short plays, Summer Shorts. While no discernable thread runs through the disparate works, the deftly comic playlets are shot through with a striation of poignancy, and the moving entries are leavened with flashes of humor.
Fine acting and direction elevate a script that navigates intellectual mazes and human emotions in The How and the Why at Theatre At Arts Garage.
So the Cowardly Lion walks into a gay bar…. That premise pretty reliably lets you know that you must be watching the new edition of Shorts Gone Wild 2, the mildly risqué festival of short plays with a LGBT underpinning.
Efforts by City Theatre staffers to improve the consistency of its offerings has paid off: This edition of Summer Shorts is not only lushly and imaginatively produced with a noticeable extra bit of polish, but is more consistently funny and entertaining than any edition in recent memory.
For a century, August Strindberg’s tragedy Miss Julie has been interpreted as a seesaw of power exercised through class and sexual politics. But in Naked Stage’s operatic production, as lives lie in ruins, everyone ultimately is revealed a slave, never a master, when they toy with those three elements.