Tag Archives: Margery Lowe
Raging family dysfunction played against an equally volatile backdrop of social upheaval makes for two seemingly separate but brilliantly acted and directed plays united in GableStage’s production of If I Forget — the emotional equivalent of a skiff tossed about in a raging tempest in the middle of a wintry ocean.
Palm Beach Dramaworks’ production of Arcadia is Tom Stoppard’s love letter to the miracle of human intelligence’s pursuit of learning — with a gentle jab at the hubris of those who are so taken with that pursuit.
Critics and award judges have been talking about it for weeks: The sheer amount of high quality work has made evaluating the last 12 months unusually challenging, but also an opportunity to remember one of the most rewarding calendar years in recent memory. So here’s a supremely subjective stab by all three critics here at Florida Theater On Stage at recognizing the shows and performances that stood out from a pack of productions.
Okay, yes, Hand to God has cute obscenity-spouting puppets having sex on stage, but the similarities to Avenue Q stops dead right there. This scorchingly funny and aggressively irreverent play at GableStage is a pitch black comedy about using the fiction of religion to rationalize and excuse the baser natural instincts of Mankind.
Gina Gionfriddo’s Rapture, Blister, Burn is rooted in an wry examination of post-feminism. But Zoetic Stage’s finely wrought comedy-drama goes much farther and deeper in examining the complex interrelationship of dreams, choices, responsibilities and consequences applicable to human beings of all sexes.
With its novelistic heft, lumbering pace and large cast, the 1953 Picnic is a product of its time. But rather than reproduce a propulsive Picnic for impatient 21st century audiences, Palm Beach Dramaworks’ interpretation deftly colors around the edges of the main storyline, spelunking the script’s peripheral action for new revelations about Inge’s mid-century, middle-class, Middle-American strivers.
South Florida Theater patrons checking and responding to email during a performance has mushroomed in recent years, but it reached a high water mark last week indicating a worsening of the collision of technology, performance art, the obsession with staying connected and the etiquette of communal interaction.
For such a seemingly simple play, Our Town requires the audience to generously invest their attention and imagination. Thornton Wilder’s classic only works when its visitors travel more than halfway there. But for those willing to make that journey, the gossamer delicate play can vibrate the heartstrings and the synapses.
Plenty of laughter greets every witticism and absurdity in Palm Beach Dramaworks’ production of Dividing The Estate, Horton Foote’s acidic depiction of greed, jealousy and family. But through the laughter, you either silently thank God you don’t know these people or you curse fate that they are way too familiar.
Amid blockbuster musicals and dysfunctional family dramas, one of the disappearing genres of theater and much of art is the slow, sweet sad song. And as Palm Beach Dramaworks’ slow, sweet sad production of Brian Friel’s Dancing at Lughnasa shows, nobody sings them like the Irish.