Tag Archives: Paul Tei
The South Florida Silver Palm Theatre Awards committee honoring theatrical excellence in South Florida will present the award to 28 individuals and organizations in its ninth season. Recipients range from veterans like Joseph Adler to newer names like Aygemang Clay.
Why Not? With Richard Nixon is perhaps Mad Cat Theatre Company’s most Mad Catty show ever, a production for company insiders that is esoteric enough to reference another Mad Cat show in its text. If you feel invited to this self-contained world, you’ll have a blast; if not, you may feel you’re observing a bubble you can’t enter, looking at your watch and waiting for it to pop.
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.
The Mad Cat Theatre Company, which prides itself on experimenting with non-mainstream offerings, has collected three short Samuel Beckett plays under the umbrella title, Tones On Tales. Some people will find this evocative, highly-stylized pieces mesmerizing; others will run screaming for the exit.
2015 produced a wild variety of snapshots to paste in the theatrical scrapbooks: a male Dolly Levi, a homicidal dimwit slicing carrots, a kidnapper forcing her captives to learn nonsense, a tsunami engulfing a Japanese village, a green-gunked survivor of toxic sludge singing love songs to his blind librarian girlfriend. You know, just another year for regional theater in South Florida.
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.
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.
Professionalism is the only explanation why this much talent—the cream of South Florida theater from the director to the cast to the creative team — invested itself so deeply into the flawed frippery of The Book Club Play at Actors’ Playhouse.
Palm Beach Dramaworks’ Buried Child is not a pleasant evening of entertainment; it’s more of scathing abrasion therapy that purges the mental palate with fare that is as harrowing as a plow etching a deep gash in the land. But it is theater at its best.