From the Archives: 'Four Strong Women' (1996)

This review of British playwright Alan Bennett's Talking Heads appeared in The Metro Herald (Alexandria, Va.) in March 1996:

Four Strong Women

Rick Sincere

Metro Herald Entertainment Editor

What a study in contrasts! The Studio Theatre has shown its range this year, with two remarkably different yet similarly superior productions mounted since January.

The Studio Theatre's first offering of 1996, Two Trains Running by August Wilson, was an ensemble production, in which various characters existed as parts of a larger whole. No single character stood out, with the result being a portrayal of a community.

Flip this over by 180 degrees and you have the Studio's second major production of the year, Talking Heads by British playwright Alan Bennett. Not a play in the classic sense -- there is no plot, no action as such -- it is instead a series of four monologues, each delivered by a different actress portraying a different character. The absence of plot or action does not, however, mean the play lacks energy. Not at all -- it turns out to be gripping, moving, driving.

The first monologue, "A Lady of Letters," is a lightly comic piece about a neighborhood busybody, Irene Ruddock (played by Nancy Paris), who has an insatiable appetite for writing letters -- complaints, compliments, criticisms. Irene seems not to have any other occupation but a combination of spying on her neighbors and writing -- in elegant longhand -- strange letters to anyone for whom she has a postal address.

The second piece, "Bed Among the Lentils," is a powerful monologue about the wife of the local vicar, Susan (played by Jon Tindle). Of the four monologues in Talking Heads, this is the only one I had seen previously, when Dame Maggie Smith played the part on television. Smith and Tindle have created significantly different interpretations of the same role, yet both are powerful and emotive. Tindle gives us a cynical, boozy Yorkshirewoman who carries on petty jealousies about her priest-husband's "fan club" even as she pursues an affair with a local Asian grocer half her age. Tindle, who despite his age and gender makes a quite convincing middle-aged woman, pulls a star turn here.

A short intermission precedes "Her Big Chance," featuring Vanessa Maroney as small-time actress Lesley, who's biggest claim to fame is appearing as an extra in a TV soap opera. Lesley could be one of Tracey Ullman's Emmy-winning characters. Although created, of course, by Alan Bennett, Lesley has the mix of confidence and naivete that defines much of Ullman's work. This monologue describes Lesley's experience "acting" in a film that everyone but she understands to be a cheap pornographic video. As an actress, poor Lesley may not get the parts she desires, but she does get to see the insides of many producers' bedrooms.

The final piece, "A Cream Cracker Under the Settee," is the most poignant of the four. Elderly, widowed Doris (June Hansen), who insists on living on her own despite offers by the local social worker to give her a place in a pensioners' home, has just injured her leg while cleaning her house. The sun is setting, and no one is scheduled to visit for several days. Dragging herself across the room, Doris yields to the inevitable as she reminisces about her late husband, their inability to have children, and the nosy social workers who intrude on her life.

All four of these women are from Yorkshire, England's moral equivalent to Texas. As such, they each have a special pride that breaks through the darkness of their lives. Bennett wrote Talking Heads during the Thatcher years, a time in recent British history in which the North/South divide was very strong -- Thatcher's policies had the effect of ginning up the economy in the South, in and around London, while the North (places like Liverpool in the west and Leeds in Yorkshire in the northeast) suffered high unemployment and declines in property values. Bennett himself comes from the North and has always had an affinity for the Labour Party's socialist inclinations. While Talking Heads never addresses either politics or economics, its tone is meant to convey a subtle criticism of the establishment (witness Susan's cracks about life in the Church of England) and of attitudes toward the poor (such as Doris' meager life in retirement).

As entertainment, the Studio Theatre's presentation of Talking Heads cannot be faulted. It is a real gift to the Washington community, making concrete Lesley's comment about her own aspiring profession: "Acting is really just giving."

Talking Heads continues through April 7 at the Studio Theatre, 1333 P Street, N.W. Performances are Wednesday and Thursday at 8:00 p.m., Saturday at 2:00 p.m., and Sunday at 2:00 and 7:00 p.m. (tickets $18.50 and $23.50). Friday and Saturday evening performances (8:00 p.m.) are $24.50 and $29.50. For ticket information, call 202-332-3300.

From the Archives - Not for Women Only: Luce's 'The Women' a Triumph of Style, Substance

This article appeared in The Metro Herald (Alexandria, Virginia) on February 19, 1999:

Not for Women Only: Luce's The Women a Triumph of Style, Substance

Rick Sincere

Metro Herald Entertainment Editor

Dr. Laura would approve. The popular radio moralist (heard locally on WMAL-AM) nags her callers and listeners frequently about the evil nature of gossip. To gossip, she says, is morally wrong, both intrinsically and because it inevitably hurts someone, if not the object of the gossip, then the one who spreads it.

And The Women, Clare Boothe Luce's classic 1930s play now at the Arena Stage, is nothing if not a moral tale of the evil consequences of gossip, especially that practiced by catty (and witty) women of leisure in the upper crusts of society. To get to the moral of her story, however, Luce delivers a funny, bitchy, cynical script that, under Kyle Donnelly's direction, is as relevant today as it was when first produced on Broadway back in 1936.

What's more, Luce (wife of Time magazine founder Henry Luce, and later Ambassador to Italy and U.S. Representative from Connecticut) does not limit herself to the society matrons (and mistresses) that so titillated Depression-era New York audiences. Like Shakespeare, she sometimes turns to the lower classes -- in this case, the servants -- to comment on the action in a clownish but insightful manner. This offers a perspective that allows us to see the protagonists not just as victims (or vixens) but also as fools who fail to recognize their own imperfections.

Arena's production of The Women has its share of great performances -- Nancy Robinette is positively manic as the Countess de Lage, Stacey Leigh Ivey is seductive as Crystal Allan, Sarah Marshall is Gertrude Steinish as the professional writer, Miss Blake, and Ellen Karas is steadfast as Mrs. Stephen Haines, the evening's primary divorcée.

Still, the real stars of The Women are the sets and costumes. Thomas Lynch's set design is sleek, convertible, and practicable. At the same time, Paul Tazewell's costumes are breathtaking. Moreover, the two designers have worked for convergence -- no costume seems out of place vis-à-vis the set decoration, and no aspect of the set overshadows the costumes. And, like the play itself, which builds through several scenes to a climax and denouement at a rooftop party, the final scene's evening gowns are absolutely fabulous. (Karas' red gown is worth the price of admission by itself.)

On leaving the theatre on opening night, my companion and I discussed the possibility of a musical adaptation of The Women. Only later did I find out that such a thing exists -- a 1956 musical film called The Opposite Sex, starring June Allyson, Joan Collins, Agnes Morehead, Ann Sheridan, Charlotte Greenwood, and Ann Miller, and including men in the cast. The movie obviously did not have much of an impact -- the composer, Nicholas Brodszky, apparently wrote nothing else of consequence -- but might make a fun video to rent. Nonetheless, if your only choice is to rent The Opposite Sex or the original film with Norma Shearer, Rosalind Russell, Joan Crawford, Marjorie Main, Paulette Goddard, Joan Fontaine, and Hedda Hopper, go with the 1939 non-musical. Or, even better, wander over to the Arena Stage and see it live.

The Women continues through February 21 at the Arena Stage, 1101 Sixth Street, S.W., in Washington. Performances are Tuesday, Wednesday, and Sunday evenings at 7:30 p.m.; Thursday, Friday, and Saturday evenings at 8:00 p.m., with selected Saturday matinees at 2:30 p.m. and selected Sunday matinees at 2:00 p.m. Ticket prices range from $24 to $45. For ticket information, call the box office at 202-488-3300.

From the Archives: How Can 'Twilight' Be So Bright? (1997)

This review of Anna Deavere Smith's Twilight: Los Angeles, 1992, appeared in The Metro Herald in February 1997:

How Can "Twilight" Be So Bright?

Rick Sincere

Metro Herald Entertainment Editor

Roget's Thesaurus offers the following words as synonyms for "brilliant": luminous, luminiferous, lucid, lucent, light, lit, well-lit, floodlit, flooded with light, bright, gay, shining, nitid, fulgent, resplendent, splendent, splendid, flamboyant, vivid, neon, colorful, radiant, effulgent, refulgent, dazzling, blinding, glaring, incandescent, flaring, flaming, aflame, aglow, afire, ablaze, fiery, glowing, blushing, auroral, rutilant, luminescent, fluorescent, phosphorescent, noctilucent, soft, lambent, playing, beaming, glittery, flashing, glinting, scintillant, scintillating, sparkling, lustrous, chatoyant, shimmering, shiny, sheeny, glossy, polished, reflecting, catoptric.

It is hard to find a word in this list that does not describe Anna Deavere Smith's remarkable performance in her current one-woman show at Ford's Theatre, Twilight: Los Angeles, 1992.

Based upon more than 175 interviews she conducted with participants and observers of the Los Angeles riots of 1992 (those which followed the acquittals of the LAPD officers accused of beating Rodney King), Twilight features more than 200 "characters" who are, in fact, real people. Smith portrays them all, male and female, black and white, immigrant and native, young and old. Her performance ranges from breathtaking to poignant to comic. In every case, Smith is brilliant. She never wavers, never lags, never fails to hit her mark.

Anna Deavere Smith is part anthropologist, part monologist. She has written this play but is no "rugged individualist" -- indeed, she called in four dramaturgs to help her write the piece and relies on the excellent direction of Sharon Ott. She works to be a bridge between people of different backgrounds, different races, different points of view. (Even as she was preparing to mount this production at Ford's Theatre in Washington last week, Smith made a special trip to New York to moderate a debate between Pulitzer-prize winning playwright August Wilson and theatre critic Robert Brustein on the topic of their long-simmering dispute about the future of "black theatre" in America.)

Smith says that the speeches in this play -- technically, there is no "dialogue," because there is only one "speaker" (Anna Deavere Smith) but in fact and in effect, the evening was one continuous dialogue -- are verbatim reproductions of statements made by the people she interviewed in the aftermath of the riots. What she has recreated is, in many cases, "found poetry." She plumbs the actual statements of real people and finds humor, rage, sorrow, arrogance, and incompetence. In short, she explores all the emotions and characteristics of real people in real situations.

At times, Smith had the audience nearly rolling in the aisles with laughter. The comedy was a soft comedy, however, not raucous or slapstick. The humor derived from the characters' apparent incapacity to understand that what they said was funny. An example: Elaine Young, "real estate agent to the stars," who talks about "huddling" at the Beverly Hills Hotel during the riots "because I've eaten lunch there every day for the past 36 years."

At other times, one could hear a pin drop -- the audience literally stopped breathing to better listen to the words from the stage. An example: Elvira Evers, a Panamanian immigrant who was shot during the early stages of the riot, but not until near the end of her monologue does it come out that she was pregnant and that the bullet was stopped by the baby in her womb. (A real tear-jerker, this, particularly when the audience learns that both mother and child survived, healthy.)

An interesting question: How is it that Anna Deavere Smith can recreate these actual personalities on stage without the risk of falling afoul of libel or slander suits? After all, some of these people are not very sympathetic. This problem didn't occur to me until the character of Elaine Young came on stage -- her name was familiar because she has been the real estate agent trying to sell the home of an acquaintance of mine. Should Ms. Young or any of the others disapprove of Smith's characterization of them, wouldn't they be inclined -- in these litigious times -- to sue the pants off the playwright?

That aside, Anna Deavere Smith proves once again that theatre requires little more than a performing space, some light, and an actor. She is able to create some 30 characters merely by putting on a scarf or a tie or a jacket, sitting in different chairs, lighting a cigarette or cigarillo, and adopting a new voice. One soon forgets that this is a "one-woman show." This is a multifaceted, multiple-personality show that happens to be performed by one actress.

It's a real shame that Ford's Theatre has booked Twilight: Los Angeles, 1992 for only 16 performances. This theatre is an excellent venue for this play. It is small enough that no electronic amplification is necessary for the audience to hear and understand the performer. This maintains a sense of intimacy and engagement that enhances the experience. Perhaps we will see a return tour someday soon.

Twilight: Los Angeles, 1992, continues through February 14, 1997, at Ford's Theatre, 511 Tenth Street, N.W., in Washington. Performances are Tuesday through Saturday evenings at 7:30 p.m., Thursday matinees at 1:00 p.m., and Sunday matinees at 3:00 p.m. Tickets are available through ProTix at 703-218-6500 or at the Ford's Theatre Box Office.

From the Archives - 'Annie Get Your Gun': Not Just a Shot in the Dark

This article appeared in The Metro Herald (Alexandria, Virginia) on January 22, 1999:

Annie Get Your Gun: Not Just a Shot in the Dark

Rick Sincere

Metro Herald Entertainment Editor

By all rights, this year should be a great one for revivals of Broadway musicals, at least if major anniversary productions are mounted. December 30 marked the fiftieth anniversary of the Broadway premiere of Kiss Me, Kate; April 7 will see fifty years since the debut of South Pacific; December 8 will be the fiftieth anniversary of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. Hello, Dolly!, after a tryout at Washington's National Theatre, had its Broadway premiere on the night of January 16, 1964, making it 35 years old this month. A Broadway revival of The Sound of Music, which will be 40 years old on November 16, is already into a long run. Others celebrating forty years in 1999 include Gypsy, Once Upon a Mattress (also recently revived), and the Pulitzer-winning Fiorello. And another 35-year-old (September 22) is the great Fiddler on the Roof.

What all these great musicals have in common -- with the possible exception of the seldom-produced Fiorello -- is that members of the audience walk into the theatre already humming the tunes. (This is not to be confused with a similar phenomenon that occurs when people see a new Andrew Lloyd Webber musical for the first time.) So it is with the revival of Annie Get Your Gun now on stage at the Kennedy Center Opera House. This 1946 musical, written by the irrepressible Irving Berlin for the incomparable Ethel Merman, is jam-packed with standard melodies that should be familiar to anyone who has owned a radio during the past half-century.

Although the songs are arranged in a different order from the original production -- it now begins with that anthem to performers, "There's No Business Like Show Business" -- each one lands pleasantly and familiarly on the ears: "Anything You Can Do," "Doin' What Comes Natur'lly," "The Girl that I Marry," "Lost in His Arms," "They Say It's Wonderful," "You Can't Get a Man with a Gun," and "An Old Fashioned Wedding," introduced by Merman in the 1966 Lincoln Center revival, a contrapuntal duet no doubt intended to match the success of the similar "You're Just in Love," from the 1950 Berlin-Merman collaboration Call Me Madam.

The team behind this revival of Annie Get Your Gun certainly matches that of the original production, which included Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II (as producers), Dorothy and Herbert Fields (book writers), Jo Mielziner (scenic and lighting design), and Joshua Logan (director). That production was only the second book musical in Broadway history to exceed 1,000 performances (preceded by Oklahoma!).

This revival is directed by Graciela Daniele, fresh from her award-winning choreography for Ragtime; the book has been revised by Peter Stone, who has won four Tony awards; the scenic design is by Tony Walton, with three Tonys, an Emmy, and an Oscar on his shelves; and backed by Tony-winning producers Barry and Fran Weissler.

Bernadette Peters is clearly the star of the show as sharpshooter Annie Oakley. Her name appears above the title, and she can belt a Berlin ballad nearly as well as La Merman herself. The two Broadway divas are similar in many ways: Despite forays into film and television, Peters is known primarily as a stage actress, making her name in Sondheim shows (Sunday in the Park with George, Into the Woods). Merman seldom ventured into the movies -- she repeated her starring Broadway roles only in the 1936 Anything Goes and the 1953 Call Me Madam. Her greatest triumphs -- Annie Oakley and Mama Rose in Gypsy -- were played by Betty Hutton and Rosalind Russell in the film versions. Go figure.

Unlike Merman, Peters rose through the Broadway ranks in an era in which Hollywood does not automatically produce movies based on hit musicals. In fact, not a single one of Peters' Broadway hits has been translated into film, and only one of her films -- Annie (1982) -- is based on a Broadway musical. So, to non-theatregoers, Peters is known primarily by straight dramatic performances, and they might be surprised to learn that she has such a terrific singing voice.

In general, Peters delivers what her talent and the material in Annie Get Your Gun promise. Her interpretations of the songs are spot-on, although there is a disappointment in "Lost in His Arms." In this instance, Peters seems to build up to a huge climax, but settles down on the approach to the top. Is this her fault, or was it the decision of arranger John McDaniel? Whatever the case, the whole song feels unresolved and unfulfilling.

One serious problem with Peters performance is her cloying, backwoods accent. It is cute at the beginning, but quickly begins to grate. And why don't the three children playing Annie's younger siblings have a similar accent? Peters needs to tone this down. We're not asking for Manhattan here, but we don't need the Beverly Hillbillies, either.

TV star Tom Wopat gives a strong performance as Annie's love interest and rival, Frank Butler. Wopat's Butler is confident without being (too) arrogant.

Daniele's choreography, created in collaboration with Jeff Calhoun, has echoes of her work in Ragtime. Daniele's dancers move geometrically, complexly, exuberantly. It would be interesting to view her work from above, like the June Taylor Dancers on the old Jackie Gleason show.

Some commentators have criticized the revised book for Annie Get Your Gun for being too "politically correct." These critics are looking just at the surface. While it was probably advisable to rid the script of insensitive treatments of Native Americans (one song, "I'm an Indian, Too," has been dropped from the score), the fact is that Peter Stone's new book subversively makes fun of the P.C. crowd. The most "P.C." jokes are, in fact, self-referentially mocking.

All in all, Annie Get Your Gun is great fun and suitable for the whole family. I hope that many Washington area children get their first taste of musical theatre through this show. It wouldn't be the first time: The celebrated playwright Terrence McNally (currently represented at The American Century Theatre with a revival of his first play -- see last week's Metro Herald for a review) decided as a child that for him, there was "no business like show business" when he saw a road company of -- what else? -- Annie Get Your Gun!

Annie Get Your Gun continues at the Kennedy Center through January 24. Performances are Tuesday through Saturday evenings at 8:00, Saturday matinees at 2:00, and Sundays at 1:30 and 7:00 p.m. Ticket prices range from $20 to $75 and may be purchased at the Kennedy Center box office or by calling Instant-Charge at 202-467-4600.

From the Archives - 'Cosmic Voyage': Ride of the New Millennium

This movie review appeared in The Metro Herald in August 1996:

Cosmic Voyage: Ride of the New Millennium

Rick Sincere

Metro Herald Entertainment Editor

A new film in the tradition of To Fly and The Blue Planet has opened at the Langley Theatre at the National Air and Space Museum. Called Cosmic Voyage, this IMAX film will give you the ride of your life.

Morgan Freeman (c) 2006 Rick Sincere

Narrated by award-winning actor Morgan Freeman, Cosmic Voyage takes its audience from inside the smallest atom in a drop of water to the outer reaches of the known universe. Using the latest scientific calculations and most current computer animation technologies, Cosmic Voyage offers a seamless blend of live-action and animation.

Cosmic Voyage premiered on August 8 as part of the Smithsonian Institution's 150th anniversary celebrations. As Dennis O'Connor, the Smithsonian's provost, put it, Cosmic Voyage is the Air and Space Museum's "candle for the Smithsonian's 150th birthday cake."

Last month, the Air and Space Museum marked the 20th anniversary of To Fly, one of the most popular IMAX offerings. According to Don Engen, director of the museum, To Fly has been seen by 13 million people in the Langley Theatre. Like Destiny in Space, its predecessor film that opened two years ago, Cosmic Voyage is what astronauts like to call "the next best thing to doing it."

Engen added that Cosmic Voyage was made with an audience of middle- and high-school students in mind, a view echoed by Gary Tooker, president of the Motorola Foundation (which financed the making of the film). Tooker told the opening night audience that "our future depends on nurturing the young minds interested in science and engineering, because that's the future of our company." He said that he and his colleagues at Motorola hope "people will be stimulated to think about the universe and the role we play in it."

Anyone seeing this film will, in fact, be struck by our tininess in comparison to the vastness of the universe -- and how big we humans are in comparison to protozoa and the atoms, electrons, and quarks that are the building blocks of all matter. Bayley Silleck, director of Cosmic Voyage, noted that the film's creative process was a "two-year adventure" that instilled "a sense of humility about our place in the universe."

It may be difficult, during the summer tourist season, to see Cosmic Voyage. Lines will no doubt be very long. If you want to experience the adventure, however, clip this article and pull it out sometime in January or February. I can't imagine a better antidote to mid-winter blues than participating in Cosmic Voyage's 35-minute roller-coaster ride. (Actually, I can: George Lucas has announced that his Star Wars trilogy will be re-released over President's Day weekend -- all three films to be screened in one day, with added special effects and new scenes. But until then, Cosmic Voyage deserves a visit.)

Cosmic Voyage is that rare blend of short films -- both educational and entertaining. This is a family movie, appropriate for children and adults of all ages.

The complete Cosmic Voyage, directed by Bayley Silleck and narrated by Morgan Freeman, has been uploaded to YouTube:

From the Archives: Modern Music Brightens NSO's Future

While primarily a theater critic during my tenure at The Metro Herald, occasionally I ventured into other aspects of the performing arts, such as this example, in which I reviewed a concert by the National Symphony Orchestra. Writing for a weekly newspaper, it sometimes made little sense to write about a one-time event (as most symphony concerts are) that was in the past, with no opportunities for readers to see (or hear) it. Yet newspapers do publish such reviews regularly. In any event, this review appeared in The Metro Herald in November 1995, and it does reference some recordings:

Modern Music Brightens NSO's Future

Rick Sincere

Metro Herald Entertainment Editor 

For conductor Leonard Slatkin to choose John Corigliano's Symphony No. 1 as the first piece he records with the National Symphony Orchestra speaks volumes about Slatkin's views about modern music and the direction the NSO should take. It suggests a dedication to modern, and to American, music that should undergird the NSO's entire mission.

Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts

Slatkin, who remains Music Director Designate until next year, explained before the Kennedy Center Concert Hall premiere of the Corigliano work that "music through the ages has traditionally been the abstract," but this composer works from the concrete. The symphony, he noted, had its "genesis" in the composer's response to two things: the AIDS epidemic and the famous Names Project Memorial Quilt, which serves as a vivid reminder of those who have lost their lives -- often very young lives -- to AIDS.

Strangely enough, the Corigliano First Symphony has been played by every major orchestra in America, in over 600 performances, since its commissioning by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra five years ago. Of the country's major orchestra's, only the National Symphony waited until now to perform the work for Washington audiences.

Corigliano has written a piece for a huge orchestra. The string sections are full, the horns and woodwinds are double and triple their normal composition, and the percussionists are busier than one ever sees them. The symphony calls for three piccolos, three flutes, three oboes, six clarinets, and three bassoons. The percussion section alone could fill a music store, with some instruments that are positively odd (yet add much to the totality of the work): The percussionists must play rototoms, temple blocks, crotales, a whip, a flexatone, a metal plate, a tam-tam, a brake drum, chimes, an anvil, and a police whistle. Corigliano has also written parts for two pianos, one onstage and one offstage.

Written, as symphonies are, in four movements, the third and fourth movements slide into each other imperceptibly. The first movement ("Of Rage and Remembrance") serves as an introduction of the themes that will predominate throughout the score. The second movement is manic in its form, which technically is a "tarantella," a wild folk dance of Italy. It is meant to represent the slowly building dementia suffered by so many people with AIDS. The third movement, by contrast, is far more lyric. It is dominated by a cello solo (with a bass continuo) that was inspired by a 1962 recording by the composer's good friend, Giulio, who died of AIDS-related causes. The fourth movement returns us to the themes that have been woven throughout the piece, and with "sonic waves" provided by the brass section, the solo cello continues, in dialogue with another cello, ending in a diminuendo that terminates the symphony on the same note with which it began.

The performances of Corigliano's Symphony No. 1 on November 9, 10, and 11 were recorded both by National Public Radio for future broadcast and by RCA Victor Red Seal. In a few months, we will be able to see whether Slatkin's interpretation of Corigliano will stand up against the premiere recording, by the Chicago Symphony under the baton of Daniel Barenboim.

Accompanying the Corigliano work in this set of concerts were three other pieces: Samuel Adler's organ fanfare, "Festive Proclamation," Henry Purcell's Chacony in G minor (orchestrated by Benjamin Britten), and Hector Berlioz's "Les nuits d'été," a song-cycle performed by Dutch mezzo-soprano Jard van Nes.

Slatkin's selection of the Britten/Purcell work is an indication of his tastes in music, too. Britten is seldom performed in the United States. Slatkin, however, has recorded several Britten works as director of the St. Louis Symphony, including the opera A Midsummer Night's Dream (which is available in a video recording in the Kennedy Center gift shop). Britten fans in the Washington area have much to look forward to, as the National Symphony has not offered much of the 20th century British composer's work in recent years.

Adler's organ fanfare is one of 25 fanfares commissioned for the NSO this season by the John and June Hechinger Commissioning Fund. Its driving rhythm, strong contrapuntal technique, and use of all the registers of the organ (including some significant pedalpoint work) will bring this work into the mainstream of organ music. Though written specifically for the NSO's organist, William Neil, it is not hard to believe that this composition will quickly find its way into the repertoires of many church organists throughout the country. It would be appropriate for weddings, ordinations, special celebrations, and even secular events such as theatre dedications or presidential inaugurations.

From the Archives - "The Gate of Heaven": Two Lives Examined

This review appeared in The Metro Herald in November 1996:

"The Gate of Heaven": Two Lives Examined

Rick Sincere

Metro Herald Entertainment Editor

Usually, when artists portray the meeting of cultures, they express it as a confrontation, a "culture clash." Seldom do they show the other side -- the meshing of cultures, their ability to complement each other, the capacity of people from different backgrounds to learn from each other and to grow more completely as human beings.

This "other side" is shown with accomplishment by the creators of The Gate of Heaven, which opened at Ford's Theatre in Washington on October 23. Ford's outgoing artistic director (and main engine of growth) Frankie Hewett introduced the play to the audience by saying there is "no better theatre, and no better city in America, to present this play." The Washington premiere was made possible through a financial partnership with General Dynamics, which underwrote much of the costs for transferring the production from San Diego, where it was first produced.

The Gate of Heaven is a collaborative effort in which the two actors -- Lane Nishikawa and Victor Talmadge -- are also the playwrights. They benefited from the dramaturgical contribution of Tony Award-winning playwright David Henry Hwang (M. Butterfly) and director Benny Sato Ambush. It tells the story of two men, Japanese-American soldier Kiyoshi "Sam" Yamamoto (Nishikawa) and Leon Ehrlich (Talmadge), an East European Jew rescued by Yamamoto from the Dachau concentration camp at the end of the Second World War.

Ten years later, after searching far and wide, Ehrlich locates Yamamoto in San Francisco, eager to thank the American for saving his life. In the decade since the end of the war, Yamamoto had become an accountant while Ehrlich had, in turn, moved to Israel, fought in the war for independence there, come to America (where he became a citizen and a psychiatrist working for the Army).

From that point forward, Yamamoto and Ehrlich -- Sam and Leon -- become fast friends. Each teaches the other about his life and culture. Leon, who never marries, is adopted into Sam's family. Despite arguments and personal tragedies, their friendship persists throughout the next 40 years of their lives.

The Gate of Heaven deals with issues that many Americans would like to sweep under the carpet, including racism and the forced relocation of Japanese-American citizens into concentration camps during World War II. Sam's family had been relocated while he volunteered to serve in the 442nd Regiment, the most highly decorated unit in American history -- consisting almost entirely of Japanese-Americans whose families were living in horrid conditions in prison camps in Utah and Arizona. Worse, even while wearing his country's uniform and medals awarded for valor and several Purple Hearts, Sam and his fellows from the 442nd are derided and spat upon when they return home from the war. Restaurants refuse to serve them because they are "Japs."

The issue of racism comes to the surface -- and works dramatically as a means to cause a temporary estrangement between Sam and Leon -- on the occasion of the U.S. Bicentennial, the 4th of July in 1976. A seemingly simple conversation about what restaurant they should patronize -- Sam wants "American food," like steak while Leon wants something exotic, like sushi -- turns into a vivid exposition of racist undercurrents in American society. One example stands out: Earlier in the day, tourists had approached Sam and Leon asking for directions. They spoke only to Leon -- the immigrant with a foreign accent, who happens to have white skin -- while ignoring Sam -- the native-born American with no accent but with a different complexion. The tourists simply assumed that Leon was American and Sam was foreign, even though the opposite was true. This, Sam says, is one of the subtle but constant reminders of America's residual racism.

To Leon, this seems trivial. He had, after all, lived through the Holocaust, when his entire family and 6 million other Jews had been exterminated by "real" racists. He had seen the ethnic conflicts in Palestine after the war, and in contrast America is a paradise.

Voices are raised, leading to a separation of the friends lasting for several years.

The Gate of Heaven is an episodic drama. Many of the plot lines are revealed not linearly, but through flashbacks and asides and allusions. There are twists that do not become clear until late in the play. Nonetheless, the various facets come together seamlessly, creating a luminous gem of the theatre.

Much credit goes to the actors, Nishikawa and Talmadge, who have chosen difficult parts to portray. Not many actors can carry off the aging process of two men over a 50-year period with the same level of excellence as these two do.

Both actors are approximately the same age as their characters are at the beginning of the play. Nishikawa does a marginally better job at aging his character, Sam, in large part because his aging process is more subtle. He does this mostly through changing his voice, making it, over the years, huskier and more gravelly. For his part, Talmadge ages his character more physically -- letting his hairline recede, growing a mustache, slouching at the shoulders -- but he also uses his voice to show the passage of time. As Leon, Talmadge begins the play with a heavy East European accent, but slowly discards it so that by the end of the evening, one can hardly tell Leon's foreign origins. This is a realistic way to portray an immigrant, most of whom lose their accents over time. He easily could have kept the dialect throughout the play, but by choosing this method, he underscored the "Americanness" of Leon, his equal status to Sam.

The first performance of The Gate of Heaven actually took place at the U.S. Holocaust Museum, a quite appropriate venue. The play provides a starting point for discussing the Holocaust and also the culpability of the U.S. government in oppressing its citizens of foreign origin (primarily Japanese-Americans). As a matter of fact, Ford's Theatre has provided a study guide for the play that can be used with high school (or college) history classes ("Backstage View: A Teacher's Guide to The Gate of Heaven," by Davi Walders, available from the Audience Development Director at Ford's Theatre, 202-638-2367 or http://www,fordstheatre.org).

The Gate of Heaven is simultaneously entertaining and instructive. It is poignant as well as hard-hitting. It successfully demonstrates how individuals can adapt to changing circumstances, how we can learn from each other and adopt other people's customs as our own, and how we are all better people when we do so. It accomplishes this without being preachy or didactic, keeping entirely within the dramatic context set by the playwrights, director, dramaturg, and scenic and costume designers.

Because it is a two-character play, The Gate of Heaven will probably gain a great following among community-theatre groups around the country. Props and setting are simple, so even the smallest low-budget company might be able to mount an adequate production. Whether amateur groups can find actors as excellent as Nishikawa and Talmadge remains to be seen, however.

Ford's Theatre deserves commendation for bringing The Gate of Heaven back to Washington for an extended run. Performances are Tuesday through Sunday evenings at 7:30 p.m., Thursday matinees at 1:00 p.m. (perfect for class trips) and Sunday matinees at 3:00 p.m. Signed performances will take place on Wednesday, November 13, at 7:30 p.m. and on Sunday, November 17 at 3:00 p.m. For ticket information, call the Ford's Theatre box office at 202-638-2367 or ProTix at 703-218-6500.

From the Archives: Review of TAP's 1999 'Damn Yankees'

Searching through the archives, I found this article from 17 years ago, the same day that my review of Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace was published.

The following review of a community theatre production in Arlington, Virginia, appeared in The Metro Herald (Alexandria, Va.) on May 21, 1999:

TAP’S DAMN YANKEES HAS A LOT OF HEART

Rick Sincere

Metro Herald Entertainment Editor

One of the great things about community theatre is that, when the cast is having fun on stage, the audience knows it. The sense of delight – and, yes, community – imparted by amateurs having a good time is infectious. While the Washington area is blessed with numerous top-notch professional and semi-professional theatres, there is something refreshing about seeing a group of actors, singers, and dancers putting on a show for the sheer joy of it, without worrying about the next audition, next paycheck, or the next job waiting tables.

Thus it is with the Arlington Players’ current production of Damn Yankees at the Thomas Jefferson Community Theatre. It may be true that not every step is in place, not every not is hit just so, and not every line is delivered with equal panache – but the energy and enthusiasm of the cast and enthusiasm of the cast and crew shines through and overcomes any “amateurism” in the pejorative sense. This sensibility even comes through in the sound of the community theatre (and also the high school theatre) orchestra, which has a certain raw, rough-edged sound that, while never being exactly “off,” still lacks the pristine precision of a professional ensemble. This lack of polish is not a flaw; instead, it is endearing.

It is particularly gratifying that director-choreographer Christopher Dykton has chosen to use the original script of Damn Yankees from the 1950s, rather than the compressed, rewritten book from the 1995 revival (which played the Kennedy Center in late 1996 with Jerry Lewis as Applegate; see The Metro Herald for December 28, 1996). That latter work eliminated some characters and changed others (“Sister,” for instance, is a hometown friend of Meg Boyd in the original, but she becomes Meg’s sister – what else? – in the rewrite.) Although the original script has some lame jokes and some anachronisms, it retains a better exposition than its successor. We learn, for instance, that Meg and Joe Boyd are two members of a colony of transplants from Hannibal, Missouri, in Chevy Chase, Maryland. Who knew? (Two of the puzzling anachronisms: The play is set in 1955, yet Lola is introduced to Joe by Applegate as “Miss West Indies of 1957.” And in the opening number, “Six Months Out of Every Year,” Meg sings that she and Joe met in November of 1938 and married soon thereafter; later in the show, Joe says he got married at age 20. This means that Joe would be about 37 years old in 1955, yet he is played as someone in his mid- to late 50s. A simple change of that lyric to “1928” would solve the problem.)

Perhaps it is this hearkening to a simpler time that allows the cast to relax and enjoy themselves as they recreate the material on stage. All the performers put their all into their roles. You can almost see them licking their lips in satisfaction after a number ends successfully.

Of the principals, perhaps Chuck Dluhy is the most perfectly cast as Mr. Applegate, the devil who comes to Washington. Dluhy’s slinky performance reminds us of Bob Fosse as the snake in The Little Prince, and how appropriate can that be? After all, the original Damn Yankees was choreographed by Fosse, and there are echoes of his style in Dykton’s dances. Unfortunately, despite the enthusiasm of the chorus, the choreography here is much better conceived than it is executed.

Dluhy is well-matched with Kathryn Fuller as Lola, the vamp who used to be “the ugliest woman in Providence, Rhode Island.” Fuller’s height contrasted with Dluhy’s diminutive stature turns them into a Mutt-n-Jeff team that works remarkably well. And the red and black costumes designed for the pair by Susan Chong are delightfully devilish.

If there is any problem in casting, it is, unfortunately, in Darrin J. Friedman’s Joe Hardy. He seems weaker than he should be, and this manifests itself the moment Friedman appears on stage, taking up the song “Goodbye, Old Girl,” where his older alter ego, Joe Boyd (Jim Golterman) leaves off, Friedman turns out to have a lighter voice than Golterman, when the opposite should be true. Boyd should have a voice that sounds worn, while Hardy should be booming. That’s not the case here.

Much of the rest of the show relies on good, strong ensemble work, and Dykton squeezes that out of his cast to good effect. It is difficult to pick out the stand-outs, but special message should be made of Kerry DeMatteis as Rocky, Christopher Smith as Vernon, Matt Steffens as Strane, Steve Gluckman as Mickey, and Wyatt Fenner in multiple supporting roles.

Damn Yankees has a number of wonderful, tuneful songs, including “You’ve Gotta Have Heart,” “Whatever Lola Wants,” “A Man Doesn’t Know What He Has,” and the comic baseball song, “The Game.” It also has what is perhaps the most clearly superfluous song in all of musical theatre, “Who’s Got the Pain,” a mambo number that was obviously designed to give Gwen Verdon (the original Lola) a chance to show off her special talents. It serves no other purpose.

If you want to have a good time and escape into the arms of a strong community of players, then go see Damn Yankees.

* * * * *

Damn Yankees continues through May 29 at the Thomas Jefferson Community Theatre, 125 South Old Glebe Road in Arlington (near the intersection of Route 50 and Glebe Road). Performances are Friday-Sunday, 8:00 PM, with a matinee this Sunday, May 23, 2:30 PM. Tickets are $12 for adults and $10 for seniors and juniors (18 or younger).

For reservations, call the Arlington Players, 703/549-1063, or visit the TAP Website at http://www.come.to/the_arlington_players.

For the record, the current web site of The Arlington Players is http://www.thearlingtonplayers.org/. Damn Yankees was written by Richard Adler and Jerry Ross (music), Richard Adler and Jerry Ross (lyrics), Douglass Wallop and George Abbott (book; based on Wallop's novel The Year the Yankees Lost the Pennant). The original production was directed by George Abbott.

From the Archives: May the Fourth Be With You - Part II

As I noted in my previous post, 17 years ago this month, I was one of hundreds of Star Wars fans who camped out in front of the Uptown Theatre in Washington, D.C., to be among the first to buy tickets and then to nab the best seats to see the long-awaited prequel to the epic trilogy, Episode 1: The Phantom Menace.

While my first report for The Metro Herald described the spontaneous community that emerged along the Connecticut Avenue sidewalks, my second report was a sort-of review of The Phantom Menace.

I just found this article in my archives and had not read it in many years.  The biggest surprise to me? Not a single mention, positive or negative, of Jar-Jar Binks.

The following article appeared originally in the Arts & Entertainment section of The Metro Herald in Alexandria, Virginia, on May 21, 1999:

Star Wars: Supernova or Firecracker?

Rick Sincere

Metro Herald Entertainment Editor

Raising more questions than it answers, The Phantom Menace, episode one of the Star Wars series, burst upon the nation this Wednesday, May 19.

Preceded by months of active anticipation and sixteen years of quiet waiting for fans and non-fans alike, the newest segment of the Star Wars phenomenon was accompanied by hype, hoopla, and hurrahs.

At the first showing at Washington’s Uptown Theatre on upper Connecticut Avenue, NW, the audience was on edge and playful. After more than 60 hours of sleeping, playing, and waiting patiently on the sidewalk outside, and taking their seats some 45 minutes before the program was scheduled to begin, members of the audience participated in mock light-saber battles in the area in front of the huge Cinerama screen. The slightest mention of Star Wars or its box-office champion nemesis, Titanic, elicited loud cheers or jeers.

And the moment the words “Lucasfilm, Ltd.” appeared on the screen, the auditorium was consumed by hoots, hollers, whistles, footstomping, and applause.

And how well-deserved this greeting was! The Phantom Menace is a tour de force of special effects. George Lucas, returning to the director’s chair for the first time since Episode 4: A New Hope of 1977, has given us a payoff for his long wait for technology to catch up to his imagination.
Drawing upon the mythological traditions of Europe, the Middle East, and East Asia, Lucas has created a story with universal appeal. Using archetypes that have been found throughout literature since before man learned to write, Lucas shows us, quite literally, the stuff that dreams are made of.

It is conventional in a review like this to resist revealing key plot developments and, in particular, the ending. So I will resist. But a few comments are in order.

Young Anikan Skywalker (played by nine-year-old Jake Lloyd) is intelligent, humble, and helpful beyond words. He is easy to love. Yet, at the same time, because we know what happens in Episodes 4-6, we also know that he will become the evil Darth Vader. Thus it is with some ambivalence that the audience applauds when things go well for young Anikan. Is Lucas trying to mess with our minds? Is he trying to personalize this Manichean struggle between good and evil? Is he helping us to demonstrate for ourselves that each of us has within us, as Jewish tradition would put it, a good yetzer and an evil yetzer?

Are we supposed to cheer and applaud, only to draw back and correct ourselves, saying, “Hey, this cute little kid is the bad guy! What am I doing?”

Some have faulted this episode of Star Wars with being big on special effects and short on characterization. This may be true, so far as it goes, but one should also keep in mind that this episode is meant as an exposition, setting up a situation for a payoff that will happen later. Half of the fun is to look for clues and links to events and characters we already know from Episodes 4-6. We can count on fuller character development in Episodes 2 and 3. Still, The Phantom Menace stands on its own as an entertaining whole. One need not have seen any of the previous (later?) Star Wars films to enjoy this movie.

The rest of the summer will no doubt be filled with Star Wars mania. Enjoy it while it lasts. The next film is not scheduled to be released until 2002.

My review of that 2002 release, Episode 2: The Attack of the Clones, is here. My look at Episode 3: Revenge of the Sith, is here, while memories of my first encounter with Star Wars in 1977 can be found in this group post on Bearing Drift.  My 2005 photo essay about "Dressing a Galaxy," an exhibit of Star Wars costumes, is here. (And just one mention of Jar-Jar Binks among them all.)

From the Archives: May the Fourth Be With You - Part I

Seventeen years ago this month, I was among the hundreds of Star Wars fans who camped out in front of the Uptown Theatre in Northwest Washington, D.C., to wait for an opportunity to be the first to buy tickets and, the next week, to see the first screening, of Episode 1: The Phantom Menace.

I also covered the gathering for The Metro Herald, which in succeeding weeks published my report on the sidewalk queue and my review of the movie.

Brought up from deep in the archives, this article ran on the Arts & Entertainment page of The Metro Herald in Alexandria, Virginia, on May 14, 1999:

ADVENTURES IN JEDI-LAND, DC

Rick Sincere

Metro Herald Entertainment Editor

Star Wars Episode 1: The Phantom Menace is, without a doubt, the most anticipated movie in a generation, perhaps since Gone With the Wind. Some would argue that it is more hype than substance, though that remains to be seen, since the vast majority of us have seen only tantalizing snippets in the form of trailers, commercials, music videos, and computer files that end in *.AVI or *.MOV.

For diehard Star Wars fans, however, this is a religious experience. They, like the rest of us, have been waiting for 16 years for the newest film in the series to be released. Yet their wait has not been casual. It has been intense, with the intensity growing in recent weeks as the magic date of May 19 approached.

Starting last Sunday evening with a handful of dedicated fans, growing as a trickle through Monday night, until by Wednesday morning some 325 or more devotees had gathered on the sidewalks outside the Uptown Theatre on upper Connecticut Avenue in Northwest Washington. The line snaked along from the south edge of the theatre, past Starbucks and Ireland’s Four Provinces, past the Cleveland Park Public Library, all the way to the end of the bridge that carries the avenue over Rock Creek Park.

There is no sense of crowdedness, certainly no rowdiness, but definitely a sense of hominess. The sidewalk is littered with sleeping bags, lawn chairs, coolers, pizza boxes, empty soda cans, knapsacks, and more. Some sit on inflatable furniture. (Inflatable Darth Maul chairs are available at Toys-R-Us for $21.95.) Some people have brought along radios and CD players. (The musical score from earlier Star Wars episodes floats through the air along with the chatter of fans.) For the overnight campers, there is the portable entertainment in the form of card games, Star Wars Trivial Pursuit sets, action figures, and plenty to read, from collections of “Bloom County” cartoon strips to J.R.R. Tolkien books to Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

The crowd is mostly young, primarily college students but some people in their thirties and some in their teens. Some come dressed in Star Wars-inspired costumes, but most are dressed simply in shorts and t-shirts, jeans and sweatshirts. As the sun rises across Connecticut Avenue, they rub sleep out of their eyes, wrapped so tightly in their sleeping bags that an unwary observer might think this gathering is for a re-release of Cocoon or The Revenge of the Pod People. But soon they emerge from their protective covers and begin socializing amiably with their neighbors.

One 12-year-old boy is there alone and, in the middle of the night, his mother comes looking for him. Afraid to give away his location because she might be there to drag him home, nearby fans express their sense of hesitancy. “Oh, that’s not why I’m here,” Mom exclaims. “I just brought him some blankets and Three Musketeers bars.” She explains that when she was her son’s age, 22 years ago, she camped out to await the first Star Wars movie (Episode 4: A New Hope) and she felt it would be hypocritical of her not to let him do the same. From one generation to another…

Despite the discomfort of sleeping on concrete overnight, the queue of fans is remarkably chipper so early in the morning. A palpable friendliness permeates the atmosphere. For so many people, the situation is quite calm, peaceful, and orderly. It provides an excellent example of economist Friedrich von Hayek’s “spontaneous order” – particularly appropriate since Hayek’s 100th birthday was celebrated on Saturday, May 8. An ad hoc community has been formed here, where once and future strangers watch out for one another as friends. Need a drink? Does nature call? Leave your things behind; no one will allow them to be pilfered. Everyone seems to get along. Oh, there might be an occasional light-saber fight, but only on the friendliest terms. And in the middle of the night, the whole gang played an elaborate game of “telephone,” with whispering that starts at one end and finishes up three blocks and three hundred people later.

As people pull out their breakfasts – consisting of Mountain Dew, Doritos, potato chips, and chocolate bars – there is no hesitancy about sharing. Local businesses and radio stations have chipped in, too. They are passing out free doughnuts, and Ben & Jerry have brought a load of ice cream treats.

The local media are here, of course. Fox News has a crew on hand all morning long, doing periodic live broadcasts throughout the network’s morning news show. The perky Fox correspondent, Holly Morris, gets the fans to play Trivial Pursuit with her, share their yummy breakfasts, and sing along to the Star Wars theme song (using lyrics invented by Bill Murray on Saturday Night Live more than 20 years ago, in his character of a smarmy Vegas lounge singer). Local radio stations are here en masse: WPGC; WASH 97.1 FM; WHFS; 104.7; Mix 107.3. They’re all passing out promotional materials – free CDs, flyers, T-shirts, various Star Wars souvenirs. They recognize a captive audience when they see one – and they get the fans to play along, too, putting them on the radio, live via cell phone.

Cell phones are ubiquitous, too – a lifeline to home or work for those who have been absent for almost three days. Some troglodytes are still using the pay phones that dot the landscape, but these old-fashioned devices are far from necessary these days.

As the sun rises higher in the sky, shirts come off and the aroma of suntan lotion wafts through the air. The anticipation grows stronger as zero hour – 2:30 PM is when tickets go on sale – approaches. Each person in line will be limited to buying 12 tickets, and all of them must be for a single performance. The most eagerly sought tickets are those for the first showing at 10:00 AM on Wednesday, May 19. Those who are purchasing them are already planning to camp out for the three nights preceding the show, simply so they can have first choice of the choicest seats. It becomes a never-ending story.

Could such a gathering of people occur in the suburbs? It is hard to imagine hundreds of people camping out on the macadam outside a suburban multiplex for days at a time, with traffic zooming by on the surrounding four-lane highways. A barren parking lot lacks the vitality of a central city’s sidewalks. Star Wars fans, with their souls in another galaxy, far, far away, have their feet firmly on the ground in the most traditional of settings, the urban village.

Next week: Reactions to the movie.