Opera aficionados speak of war horses, those dozen or so operas that receive an inordinate number of productions.  Why are they so often presented?  Because they are esteemed by old timers and accessible to dabblers as a result of compelling plot lines; dynamic characters; theatrical grandeur; and most importantly, a beautiful score with soaring arias, ensembles, and choruses.  As a result, these select few draw audience and pay the rent.  La Traviata, composed by Giuseppe Verdi and with libretto by Francesco Maria Piave, is the epitome of a war horse and wonderful to enjoy in all respects.

This being my ninth Traviata (yes, I keep records), and a traditional one at that, I was not particularly enthused about attending and having to review.  In the haze of hundreds of operas and thousands of plays over the decades, I can’t say that I remember with great detail the versions that I saw at The Met, San Francisco Opera, Warsaw Opera (in Polish!), and elsewhere.

What I will say is that while some have been more opulent, I have no memory of having been any more enthralled than I am with this Livermore Valley Opera production.  While it can stand tall on most dimensions, the difference maker is the performance of Avery Boettcher as Violetta.  If there is more that can be offered in performing this role, I’d like to know what it is.  Although she is still young, it appears to be time for her to appear on the biggest stages.

The central story is of Violetta, a courtesan loved by Alfredo who comes from a high social class.  When they are poised to marry, his father, Giorgio intervenes because of the irreparable social damage that would befall the family.  Violetta sacrifices her love and her hopes in deference to the father’s wishes.

Few operas include two lavish party scenes, and Traviata even opens with one.  Immediately, the audience is delighted by one of the signature pieces from the opera, the lively brindisi, or drinking song “Libiamo ne’ lieti calici” (“Let’s drink from the joyful cups”) which starts as Alfredo’s tenor aria, later joined by the soprano, Violetta.  It is followed by the enchanting love duet “Un di felice” (“One day, happy”).  This is a remarkably demanding opening for both leads that requires them to be in full voice at the start and sets expectations for the opera.  But despite the luxurience of the parties, the remainder is very intimate

Brad Bickhardt as Alfredo displays a warm and wonderfully mellifluous voice that has all of the coloration required for this lyric role.  He excels in intimate scenes when caressing the music, but what the tenor does not evidence is the volume to power through spirited arias and to meet the needs of larger opera houses.

Violetta’s role demands versatility of the highest order, having lyric, coloratura, and dramatic elements.  Boettcher has it all.  Her lyric voice is velvety and smooth, but she navigates demanding leaps, runs, and coloratura trills with precision and ease, notably in her brilliant “Sempre libira” (“Always free”).  And when extreme emotion is demanded, her volume and upper range exhibit control and fill the house.  The artist also masters the various moods of the role, as Violetta alternates among giddy, loving, vulnerable, gloomy, and despairing.

The third major character is Giorgio, a complex person whose priority is to defend his family, even if it damages Violetta.  The audience may resent but understand his interference, and as he evolves, he becomes more sympathetic.  Giorgio is performed by Krassen Karagiozov who brings a lustrous, authoritative, and booming baritone voice to the role.  The warmth and depth of his voice is in evidence in early acts, particularly when he is trying to lure the alienated Alfredo back to the fold in his hallmark aria “Di Provenza al mar” (“Who erased the sea and the land of Provence from your heart”).  Toward the conclusion of the opera, he must call on the higher end of his range which he does with great success.  By this time, but too late, Giorgio realizes Violetta’s goodness and regrets that he has stood in the way of her union with Alfredo.

Violetta continues to have highlights throughout, and Boettcher meets every challenge vocally and with impassioned acting, leading to her finale “Gran Dio!…morir sì giovane” (“Great God!…to die so young”).  Two examples of opera conventions that outsiders occasionally deride occur here – that she can possibly take so long to die and that she can vocally ring the rafters when she’s dying of consumption.  We opera lovers endorse both.  The music and the performance are both magnificent.

Apart from the trio of main characters, the secondary principals are a little uneven.  Notwithstanding, the always reliable bass Kirk Eichelberger as Dottore Grenvil delivers his small singing part with great resonance.  Both male and female voices show well in the chorus, and the strings-dominant orchestra delivers the score with a lush sound.  Conductor Alexander Katsman controls the varied tempos and dynamics of Verdi’s rapturous score with precision and sensitivity.

La Traviata, with music by Giuseppe Verdi and libretto by Francesco Maria Piave, based on the novel La Dame aux Camélias by Alexander Dumas fils, is produced by Livermore Valley Opera and plays at Bankhead Theater, 2400 First Street, Livermore, CA through October 5, 2025.

For the remainder of the year, my San Jose and Peninsula theater reviews will be posted on Talkin’ Broadway with only introductions to those reviews on this site]. Please continue to https://www.talkinbroadway.com/page/regional/sanjose/sj298.html for full review.

“Faster than a speeding bullet” (appropriated), artificial intelligence went from casual coffee klatsch conversation to existential board room challenge.  “More powerful than a locomotive” (appropriated), AI disrupts economic life and eliminates jobs – manufacturing products, interacting with customers over the Internet, identifying criminals, and much more.  In the world of creative entertainment, AI produces lifelike visual images and writes literature in whatever context or style specified.  Relevant to this story, it can also dissect existing literature and identify what sources were used in its composition.

It is in conjunction with the latter that we meet Jacob McNeal (Johnny Moreno).  He is under care for stage 3 liver failure exacerbated by heavy drinking (stage 4 is irreversible) but learns that he has just won the Nobel Prize for Literature.  Will this give him something to live for?

Much like a contemporary take on Fellini’s 8 ½, the protagonist engages with the women in his life in scenes that are dyads of him and his antagonists – a physician, insistent and demanding that he change his ways or begin a death spiral (Abigail Esfira Campbell); his literary agent, loyal but resentful of his disloyalty (Nicole Tung); an interviewing journalist, offended by his racist DEI comments and knowledgeable of his misdeeds but still admiring (Storm White); and his former lover, fiery, hurt, but still connected (Bridgette Loriaux).

The narrative is totally about the title character, and the indomitable Johnny Moreno gives a tour de force performance as is his way.  His irascible, self-indulgent McNeal schlumps about the stage in oversized garments, not caring about appearance.  He wobbles side-to-side, arms with loose and broad gesticulation as he pontificates, often denigrating those he considers undeserving.  And from his well-articulated mouth and with his derisive, incisive speaking style it almost seems that he is literally chewing the scenery……  

McNeal runs through October 19, 2025, at San Jose Stage, 490 South 1^st Street, San Jose, CA.  For tickets and information please visit https://www.thestage.org/.

Immigrants tend to cluster in more ways than one.  Not only do they favor certain cities, they gravitate toward certain communities within a city.  Often, they even concentrate on the same occupation or type of entrepreneurship.  Back in the day, when you saw New Yorkers carrying coffee in paper cups, they were most frequently identical blue with white artwork cups, because many of the city’s diners were owned by Greek immigrants.  Similarly, Pakistanis seemed to dominate newsstands.  Jews came to corner the “rag trade” in New York’s Garment District.  And so it goes.

In contemporary times, Korean immigrants appear more comfortable than most investing in mini-marts, even in dodgy neighborhoods.  So much so, that when the Kim of this review wanted to open a store, his favorite store names with Kim in the title were already taken.  So begins the story of Kim’s Convenience, a typical small food and sundries market in Toronto.

The central figure of our story is known as Appa – not a real name, but Korean for dad.  He’s had a signature immigrant experience.  He’s worked hard for decades.  But despite his sacrifices, which included giving up his career as a teacher in Korea, his son abandoned the family under a cloud.  Meanwhile, his 30-year-old daughter Janet (played by a light and bright Kelly Seo) is unmarried and pursuing a career that Appa doesn’t appreciate or approve – photography.

The story takes place in the authentic looking convenience store.  The action is hilarious from beginning to end with occasional respite for screaming arguments, pathos, and resulting teary eyes for some patrons.  All of the laughs are thanks to playwright Ins Choi, and most of them are delivered by Appa, also played by Ins Choi.

Remarkably, Choi delivers many flaccid lines in a deadpan manner, but everything seems to hit simply because of his look and his timing.  What’s more, his Korean accent is very thick, and surprisingly, most of the audience cuts through the verbal garble and gets the humor.  The story even recognizes how challenging his accent is when he has a conversation with a Jamaican immigrant, and neither can understand the other’s English.

Some of the drollery is a bit sophomoric, playing on common Korean mispronunciations in English, where steal becomes ste-e-er.  More pointed is when a potential suitor for Janet is present.  Suggesting that Janet give the young man some snacks from the shelves as he’s leaving, the father repeatedly makes intended double-entendres in which peanuts sounds like a man’s body part.

The two driving themes of Kim’s Convenience are intertwined, managing the store and managing the family.  Of course, the store is the basis for the family’s sustenance, and to Appa, it represents his opportunity to leave a family legacy.  But two conditions work against succession.  Janet is not the least interested in working the store, and Appa has received an attractive offer to sell.

The depictions in the play carry authenticity partly because of Appa’s complexity and human contradictions.  In one incident, he nabs a shoplifter, much to the horror of Janet, as his identification is based on rigid racial profiling, not having actually observed any theft.  One of the funniest sequences in the dialog is when he reveals his whole “if-then” schema in which he notes what combinations of race, body type, and apparel determine whether the person is a shoplifter or not.

His list of perpetrators leans heavily toward blacks. Yet when a black man, Alex, (Brandon McKnight in one of his four varied roles) who had known Janet in high school appears and seems attracted to her, Appa is more than welcoming.  Later, he even encourages the po-po! (policeman in Korean).  He also relishes telling the story of the market in Los Angeles that was protected during riots by a cordon of black patrons who appreciated the generosity of the Korean owner who helped them out when they were in need.

It should be added that Appa’s Korean pride naturally involves inherent dislike for Japanese because of their past colonization and other mistreatment of Koreans.  The antipathy extends to guilt by association, like to anyone who owns a Japanese car!  He even calls the police when he sees an illegally parked Japanese car, but not any other.

Though set in Canada, this tale will ring true to immigrant families around the world, especially those in which the parents sacrifice so that their children will gain education and easier lives.  While laughs dominate the timeline of the play, and some of the issues concerning family and work are superficial, the more resonant ones concern redemption and forgiveness.  So there is more than just humor that makes this play compelling.

Incidentally, for those of you who are otherwise unaware and wonder if this show will have legs, Kim’s Convenience first hit the stage in 2011 and then television, first on Canadian TV followed by five seasons on Netflix.  So it’s already proven itself with quite a run.

Kim’s Convenience, written by Ins Choi, is produced by American Conservatory Theater, and plays at Toni Rembe Theater, 415 Geary Street, San Francisco, CA through October 19, 2025.

Among people of good will, legitimate differences can occur.  Based on a true story, Dead Man Walking deals with a difference of the highest order, the death penalty.  Advocates cite the rights of victims’ families to exact punishment and achieve closure.  Biblically, they note the dictum of “An eye for an eye.”  Detractors argue that killing a murderer doesn’t bring back the victim; precludes redemption; and rejects the Christian notion of turning the other cheek.

Despite its harrowing topic, San Francisco Opera commissioned Dead Man Walking, composed by Jake Heggie with libretto by Terrence McNally.  It has become the most performed 21^st century opera, and the company reprises it with a stupendous production on the opera’s 25^th anniversary.

At one level, Dead Man Walking can be perceived as the intimate story of an unrepentant killer and the nun who befriended him and acted as his spiritual counselor as he faced execution.  The opera however is grand in scale, having a great many principal roles and choruses.  It is blessed with melodious tonal music replete with rich categorical diversity and motifs; a libretto of immense thought and consequence; and breathtaking staging that reveals its heart-breaking scenes.

The opening captivates with its depiction of the lurid crime set to ominous music.  With a parked car at a lovers’ getaway onstage, its headlights attract the two rapist/murderers to the site like moths to a flame.  A young, naked couple on a blanket is ravaged and knifed to death senselessly – she 35 times.

We then jump to the final month before the execution, when Joseph de Rocher calls upon Sister Helen Prejean, a nun previously unknown to him, to comfort him.  The wonderfully cast Ryan McKinny is chilling as the vile Joseph, having a deep, expressive baritone voice delivered with menace and an authentic sounding Louisiana accent.  Though he seeks grace and deliverance, he verbally abuses and disparages those whom he asks for help.  In his aria “A warm night” when he first meets Sister Helen, he shares his sexual desires and conquests with her, showing contempt for her station.

The fine young mezzo Jamie Barton is Sister Helen.  She captures the nun’s gentility and complex reactions with a mellow and nuanced voice as she fights revulsion in trying to induce Joseph to confess and seek forgiveness.  Her dedication to her calling is revealed in the recurring hymn-like “He will gather us around,” and she realizes the watershed she faces in the reflective “This journey.”  But the journey is not only thankless, she is vilified by the victims’ parents, the warden, and even the prison priest.

Among the many highlights of the opera, a powerful and accusatory sextet “You don’t know” involving the victims’ parents, Sister Helen, and Joseph’s mother addresses the pain and grief the parents confront, down to remembering the last, inconsequential things that they said to their lost children.  In the end, an understated Mrs. de Rocher, performed by the redoubtable Susan Graham with tremulous restraint, faces grief as well.  One difference is that she knows that these will be her last words to her son, and in the attempt to keep alive her hope that Joseph is innocent, she begs his silence in the plaintive “Don’t say a word.”

The composer’s music engages not only in its operatic mode, but in pastiches of other styles.  Along with hymns, the score imitates blues and rock, and in a sequence that brought about some bonding, the two main characters share their love of Elvis, who Sister Helen had seen live in Las Vegas.  Heggie also utilizes motifs throughout the score.  But in addition to a recurring musical phrase identifying a particular character, when characters interact, their motifs sometimes do as well.  In the case of Sister Helen’s “This journey” motif, it is also adopted by Joseph in his confessional “I did it” as he takes the final steps in his journey.

Central to the stellar staging is the steely prison set.  Its daunting mobile components – catwalk, chain link fencing, and circular staircase towers are disturbing evocations of life behind bars, and dramatic lighting accentuates the isolation of prison existence.  But all of the scenery gives a strong sense of place, even the occasional fragmentary sets or the projection-based views of rural Louisiana when Sister Helen first drives to Angola Prison.

Even though the opera’s topic matter may be off-putting and though numerous personalities are unpleasant as well, the exceptional creative artistry and execution, as well as the significance of the story, overcome these objections.  The overall production is sensational with the orchestral music of Heggie’s appealing score conducted by the acclaimed Patrick Summers.  The only defect of note is that a number of artists sometime fail to project suitably so that much of the singing seems underpowered.

Dead Man Walking, composed by Jake Heggie with libretto by Terrence McNally, is produced by San Francisco Opera and plays at War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco, CA through September 28, 2025.

Così Fan Tutte wastes no time in getting to the heart of the matter.  The title is ambiguous, but in the context of the libretto it loosely translates as “women all do it” – the “it” being partake in infidelity.  From the opening lyrics, the older and cynical Don Alfonso challenges the naïve young men, Ferrando and Guglielmo, wagering them that their fiancées, Dorabella and Fiordiligi respectively, will betray their vows within 24 hours if given the chance.  The peacocks that they are, the young men bristle at the thought that their loved ones could possibly consider being unfaithful.  The whole opera is dedicated to that single issue.

Opera San José’s audience seems partial to opera war horses, and what could be more fitting than a popular opera uniting perhaps the most successful opera creating team ever.  Composed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart with libretto by Lorenzo da Ponte, they produced three of opera’s most famous masterpieces – the others being Don Giovanni and The Marriage of Figaro.

OSJ’s production of Così is masterful, blessed with wit and warmth.  Credit excellent casting which results in an ensemble of six wonderful performers with mellifluous voices that complement one another beautifully.  Add fine direction from Alek Shrader as well as brisk and decisive orchestral support conducted by Joseph Marcheso.

Mozart’s music always lifts a production.  However, it’s the cheery performances punctuated by outstanding comic acting by all of the performers that are the difference makers, moving the action along.  Particular acting recognition goes to soprano Nicole Koh as Despina, the maid.  In a featured role, she wins over the audience as she sashays, struts, flits, flops, and mugs like a fine comic actor and even sings in a comic manner when necessary.  Her singing does sometimes fail to project adequately, though she certainly possesses the power as she has sung The Queen of the Night from The Magic Flute for OSJ.

Kudos to the other five cast members for finding the humor in their parts as well.  Among other slapstick acts, artists flop onto their backs, especially soprano Emily Michiko Jensen as Fiordiligi.  The exception is Joanne Evans as Dorabella who received a dispensation slip as she’s seven months pregnant!  Despite that, she sings with a wonderfully warm, exacting mezzo-soprano voice and charms with a bright, enduring smile.

In taking up Don Alfonso’s bet, which is aided by Despina’s involvement, the young men must disguise themselves as Albanians.  Using the plot device of fiancée swapping, each will lure the other’s love interest.  In most operas, the tenor and soprano are paired as the leads (and the good guys), and the baritone and mezzo are secondary.  In Così, the alignments are switched, except when the men are in their foreign guises – presumably so they won’t be recognized.

At first, the young ladies are steadfast, and Fiordiligi sings her anthem to fidelity, “Come scoglio.”  Jensen’s powerful top end is in evidence as well as her ability to make great vocal leaps, though she does fade a bit when in lower register and deeper into phrases.  When the men falsely feel that they have won the day, Ferrando sings his signature aria, the most noted piece from the opera “Un’aura amorosa” (“A breath of love”).  Jonghyun Park is Ferrando, and he commands the beautiful aria and the high tessitura of the role with ease.

Along the way, farcical events occur, allowing the young men to show their comic chops, as when Despina is dressed as a doctor and uses a giant magnet to withdraw poison from the men’s bodies as they writhe like cockroaches on their backs!

Ricardo José Rivera is delightful as Guglielmo, using wry facial expressions as well as dramatic gesticulations.  His baritone voice is easy and mellow, producing a great overall performance.  His vocalizations appeal throughout, and he blends especially nicely with Evans in their love duet “(Il core vi dono).” (“I give you my heart”).  Perhaps it is no surprise to the reader that the young women do fall under the spell of the “visitors,” and despite the men being crestfallen, they forgive their fiances.

Final recognition goes to the highly accomplished bass-baritone Dale Travis as Don Alfonso, the instigator of the plot (pun intended).  He brings comedy, authority, and a mellow voice to his characterization of the insightful but slightly underhanded Don.

At this point, I will observe that what makes this OSJ production particularly notable to me is that I am no fan of Così, and the production had to compensate for deficiencies in the opera to bring me on board.  To begin with, at three hours, it is too long for the simplicity of the story line.  Also, for a major opera, it has only six principals and no chorus or extras, making the opera seem less than grand.  And while there is a great deal of fine music, the execution of the plot is very static.  Much of the singing is stand-and-deliver, often with only two people, or even one, on stage, so that it seems more like a concert version rather than a fully-staged production.

Notwithstanding, the Opera San José rendering of Così Fan Tutte contains so many pleasures that it is a joy to behold.

Così Fan Tutte, composed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart with libretto by Lorenzo da Ponte, is produced by Opera San José and plays at California Theater, 345 South 1^st Street, San Jose, CA through September 28 2025.

A common concern among minority-group populations that receives nary a thought from the majority population is how its people are presented in entertainment and media.  Whether Black, Latino, Jewish, or other, there is particular concern when it is someone of their own ethnic group who is depicting them in a bad light.

In 1906, Polish Jew Sholem Asch wrote the Yiddish-language play God of Vengeance.  A table reading was hosted by Poland’s most distinguished living Yiddish intellectual, Isaac Peretz, who at the end of the reading was so offended by the portrayal of fellow Jews that he said “Burn it Asch, burn it.”

In 2015, Paula Vogel wrote the metatheatrical play Indecent, which tells the dramatic history of the evolution of God of Vengeance and its impact on society and on its playwright.  Written with pathos and reverence for its characters and her culture, Vogel insightfully integrates scenes from Asch’s play into her own, cleverly and seamlessly as a piecemeal play-within-a-play.

What made God of Vengeance so controversial in the Jewish community?  It was innovative and daring beyond its time but in the opinions of many, its portrayals were blasphemous and disparaging.  Not only is the male lead a Jewish brothel owner who tries to buy respectability by his financial contributions to the synagogue, but in the end, he desecrates a Torah and consigns his own daughter to his brothel because of having a lesbian affair with one of his prostitutes.

Starting with the Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award winning play, the incredibly potent and distinguished production of Indecent at Center Rep excels on every dimension and should not be missed.  Elizabeth Carter directs with consummate skill, marshaling all of her creative resources.  The feel of authenticity is palpable, highlighted by the breadth of costume design (Brooke Kesler); the often targeted and sepia-tinged lighting (Spense Matubang); and haunting klezmer music (Timothy Fletcher).  Useful projections (Lyle Barrere) complement the dialog to identify the frequent time, location, and language shifts.

 A fine ensemble of actors, all but one in multiple roles, perform admirably.  Of particular acting note is that of Adam KuveNeimann, primarily as the younger Sholem Asch, gentle, yet assertive in his self-belief and in his play that he feels tells a side of his community’s life that needs to be told.  When Asch assembles his entourage, the inexperienced Lemml would become his traveling stage manager. Played with great touch by Vincent Randazzo, Lemml would begin in a humble and halting fashion, later becoming demonstrative and challenging his mentor.  Michelle Drexler’s elan shows as various sharp-edged characters and as the loving prostitute Manke who loves Rivke, the daughter of the brothel owner.

Despite condemnations and discouragement from his close circle, Asch took God of Vengeance on the road.  It was well received in Yiddish and in translation in the cultural capitals of Europe.

Though Asch would live mostly in the U.S. as a safe haven free of pogroms from 1914 onward, his adopted home would become a major source of his discontent.  Only when the controversial play premiered in the sanctimonious United States in 1923 did participants in the production suffer legal repercussions for travesties like showing the first same-sex kiss on the American stage.  Unlike in Europe, he had to make eviscerating changes to the play to placate criticism, and eventually he became so disconsolate that he would remove the play from the market so that it couldn’t be performed.  Later, he would re-emigrate to England to avoid prosecution from the House Un-American Activities Committee.

Vogel incorporates Asch’s work into her own in such a smooth manner that it becomes difficult to disentangle them.  It feels that Asch’s drama and convictions are Vogel’s own and that the two plays are really one riveting story.

As introduced earlier, a number of messages resound, starting with the humanity of the lesbian relationship of the two women.  Perhaps the signature scene from God of Vengeance is the rain scene in which the two young women share a loving embrace that is regarded as a Romeo and Juliet scene for lesbians, which is beautifully presented in this production, even with “rain” falling on the two women.  But beyond the particulars of the women, this sequence is a plea for acceptance that equally applies to Christians accepting Jews in their midst, and, dare we say, political conservatives accepting liberals in their midst.

Another notion is the hypocrisy of false piety which persists across religions and national boundaries.  It particularly plagues this country now, as purported Christians from the religious right act in ways antithetical to Christ’s preaching and make deals with the Devil to enhance their power, not their righteousness.  In doing so, they are undermining the very democracy that enabled their religious freedom.  Do they not realize that the revolution often devours its own children?

Paula Vogel’s poignant Indecent reminds us not that “it” could happen here but that it is happening here.

Indecent, written by Paula Vogel, is produced by Center Repertory Theatre and Yiddish Theatre Ensemble, and plays at Lesher Center for the Arts, 1601 Civic Drive, Walnut Creek, CA through September 28, 2025.

Charismatic and queer, Josh has been kicked out of an alcoholism half-way house for fermenting his own hooch.  Meanwhile, his tough-love mother, Patricia, has confiscated his driver’s license and credit cards and won’t let him return home until he’s been sober for 90 days.  She believes that the addict won’t get it right unless there’s been a memorable price to pay.  What is a young man to do?

So opens Jake Brasch’s compelling dramedy The Reservoir, now playing at Berkeley Rep.  Full of strong performances of well-differentiated characters, this dark but funny semi-autobiography holds the attention throughout.  The play strengthens as it progresses as Josh’s unappealing self-indulgence, is somewhat supplanted by touches of humility and redemption in Act 2.

Not uncommon with young writers is the tendency to cram a lot of the ideas that have consumed their early lives into one package.  This is the case with The Reservoir, which benefits individually from all of its threads, but not all are essential for a cohesive narrative.

Two dominant narrative themes fuse through a modest linkage.  Josh’s alcohol addiction dominates his part of the storyline. Ben Hirschhorn as Josh gives a bravura performance as the conflicted and immature youth, both when besotted and when recovering.  His heavy drinking has resulted in occasional memory loss and blackouts, which includes missing a full day in which he was to bear responsibilities that he failed to fulfill, causing great consternation to others and repercussions to himself.

His memory loss ties into the second theme.  Josh has left NYU to return home to Colorado where his single parent-mother and both sets of grandparents live.  Dementia in general and Alzheimer’s in particular will sweep through his grandparents like an epidemic.  The sadness of the associated catatonia leads to great reflection and many touching moments.  There is much discussion of the technical aspects of dementia and clever metaphors about the processes involved, which also reveals the reason for the play’s title.

The play also identifies as being intergenerational.  Indeed, Josh tries to connect with his grandparents, and he is not totally successful.  He finds that they have their own lives to live, and partly due to his own missteps, he is not invited by all of them to be part of it.  But he also objects to the politics of his paternal grandparents, arguing that if they loved him, they would accept that he is gay, and that in itself would change their politics.  His relationship with his mother is fractious and one dimensional at this point, and her relationship with Josh’s grandparents is not really explored, so the intergenerational aspect is a bit underdeveloped.

A final theme relates to Judaism.  The maternal grandparents are Jewish, and paternal grandparents are not.  Triggered by grandfather Shrimpy (played by a sly and witty Peter Van Wagner), much humor is Jewish, especially because of his having a second bar mitzvah at age 85.  The rest of the humor from the grandparents understandably centers on old people’s issues such as bad hips and bodily functions.  The ethnic element however seems more like the playwright’s simply wanting to share personal information as it adds nothing to the essential concerns.

As Josh’s recovery waxes and wanes, he finds a surprise ally, his maternal grandmother.  The wonderful Pamela Reed plays Bev, gracing her with deadpan sardonic humor, a foul mouth, and crack timing.  Like Patricia, she shows tough love as well.  However, she takes a more proactive role in trying to fix Josh by getting him to appreciate the small things in life that add up and make it worthwhile.  But Josh finds her to be an enigma.  While offering to pay his way back to NYU when his mother won’t, Bev still pushes Josh away.  She doesn’t want to be friends but rather a grandmother who sends impersonal Hanukkah cards once a year, and he can’t understand why.

The Reservoir, with direction by Mike Donahue, plays on a spare set, so the focus is very much on the acting.  Behind a strong lead, a fine ensemble gives excellent performances of a slightly flawed but thoughtful and entertaining play.

The Reservoir, written by Jake Brasch, is produced by Berkeley Repertory Theatre and plays on its stage at 2025 Addison St., Berkeley, CA through October 12, 2025.

For the remainder of the year, my San Jose and Peninsula theater reviews will be posted on Talkin’ Broadway with only introductions to those reviews on this site]. Please continue to https://www.talkinbroadway.com/page/regional/sanjose/sj297.html for full review.

No modern humorist playwright can compete with the accomplishments of Neil Simon.  A winner of three Tony Awards plus numerous recognitions for movie and television works, he remained a theatrical institution for four decades.  While many of his plays were a product of his upbringing, conspicuously Jewish and set in New York City or its suburbs, others were neutral and could take place across the country.  Rumors, one of his many beloved plays, does take place in the New York suburbs, but it could be anywhere.

Debuted in 1988, well into his middle-age, Rumors departed from Simon’s bedrock.  He had written relationship comedies of many sorts with a focus on a clutch of well-defined principal characters and usually of the middle class.  This play involves an ensemble of ten in a wealthy suburb and is Simon’s first attempt at farce, embracing ridiculous situations demanding over-the-top acting.

Pacifica Spindrift Players, an all-volunteer community theater, has chosen well.  The play suits the cast which delivers an entertaining product, extracting humor at almost every turn.  For a small theater, Spindrift’s stage is very large.  All of the action occurs in the living room of a large house, and Alexis Orth’s white with black set is striking and effective.

To celebrate their 10^th wedding anniversary, Charley and Myra are throwing a party with four other couples at their home.  All are part of the Porsche/BMW-driving, swanky tennis club belonging, set of rich professionals – analysts, doctors, lawyers, and such.  The playwright needles the snobbish and conspicuous life style of this class of people as every reference to past events they’ve attended is a fund raiser for a charity.  Making the farce seem sillier, the guests are dressed to the nines, with women bejeweled in party gowns and men in formal wear.

Ken and Chris are the first arrivals and have to let themselves in.  Soon, they hear a gunshot, and Ken runs to the master bedroom to find Charley bleeding from a bullet through his ear lobe, which Ken assumes was a suicide attempt.  Myra is nowhere to be found, and the first rumor to be mentioned is that she’s having an affair.  Of course, we know that covering up an incident often creates more complications than facing up to the truth.  Ken’s instinct is to protect Charley, and he and Chris first try to hide what has happened from the other guests.  However, when the next couple, Lenny and Claire, arrive, Lenny starts sniffing it out…………

[For the remainder of the year, my San Jose and Peninsula theater reviews will be posted on Talkin’ Broadway with only introductions to those reviews on this site]. Please continue to https://www.talkinbroadway.com/page/regional/sanjose/sj296.html for full review.

Some characters in plays leave an indelible imprint on the audience.  Occasionally, it is not the title character who earns that distinction.  So it is with Gypsy.  Mama Rose, who is the real central figure and the real gypsy, represents the archetype of the stage mother – bumptious, brazenly ambitious, and living through the successes of her children to the point that she sacrifices all else in that quest.  This musical is biographical, and one performing daughter that Rose became estranged from ultimately became stage and screen actress June Havoc.  The other would become the most storied stripper of her era and perhaps the most famous of all time, Gypsy Rose Lee.

The musical debuted on Broadway in 1959, enjoying a highly successful but not historic run.  Gypsy was nominated for eight Tony Awards but won none.  Yet, it is viewed by most critics as one of the finest musicals ever written and by several influential ones as the greatest musical written up to that time.  Several Broadway revivals have followed, most recently in 2024-5, starring Audra McDonald, who has won the most Tonys of any performer and received a nomination for this one.

It must be daunting to step into the legendary shoes of many of the greatest and most iconic actresses.  Among others who placed their stamp on the role, Ethel Merman created Rose for the stage, and Rosalind Russell starred in the movie.  Palo Alto Players has enlisted Caitlin Gjerdrum as Rose, and she is absolutely stupendous.

First of all, Gjerdrum has the pipes, with power to spare.  She blasts away buoyantly and optimistically on composer Jule Styne’s “Everything’s Coming Up Roses,” in which she gives encouragement to her no-talent daughter Louise (Whitney Hisako Moore), who would become Gypsy Rose Lee.  Among lyricist Stephen Sondheim’s brilliant formulations, this song not only conveys Rose’s need to dominate but plays effectively on her name.  Rose also reveals her ambition in “Some People” in which she notes that a sedentary life is okay for others, but not for her.

Gjerdrum brings compassion as well in the hopeful and beautiful “Small World.” She has a long, warm relationship with their act’s managing agent Herbie (Ray D’Ambrosio), and in the song she notes all of their complementarities which make them a fine couple……………..

A jukebox musical paying tribute to a singer depends on two factors for success – a historic figure who resonates with the audience and a performer who engenders nostalgia for the original.  Not only was Janis Joplin an iconic figure, but her flame burned bright and was tragically extinguished in the most distinctive and storied post-WW II decade – the 1960s.

The ‘60s brought with it a sea change of strong influences including involvement by teens and twenties in music, politics, civil and women’s rights, religion, clothing, and intergenerational clashes.  San Francisco sat at the epicenter of these dramatic shifts, highlighted by the Summer of Love in 1967.

In the same year and only two hours down the coast, Monterey Pop would become the prototype for Woodstock and other massive rock music festivals.  It provided quantum lifts for Jimi Hendrix, The Who, and a band little known outside of San Francisco – Big Brother and the Holding Company.  Its lead singer Janis Joplin would deliver one of the most memorable and electrifying performances recorded in rock history.

Sonoma Arts Live brings Janis to life in the person Libby Oberlin, who replicates the icon with exceptional flair.  She sings with Joplin’s urgency and raw emotion.  She punches the air, waves her hair, and jitters and stomps around with the same gesticulations. And she talks with Joplin’s signature raspy voice and laughs with her nervous giggle.

Those who enjoy the jukebox format and who like or are curious about Janis Joplin will relish the experience.  The performance of over 20 songs dominates the evening, supported by a live band of eight instrumentalists.

Smatterings of somewhat sanitized connective tissue, much about growing up in Port Arthur, Texas, give the show some narrative.  But it largely ignores the ridicule and ostracism she suffered as a teen and her massive addiction problems when she entered the entertainment world.  And while the part of her that is the Southern Comfort-drinking free spirit comes across, we see little of the web of contradictions that include her self-doubt and vulnerability.

In one sense, A Night with Janis Joplin is a one-woman show, as the title character is the only one with dialog.  However, the physical energy and vocal demands of the role are punishing, and a clever script design brings timely relief and recovery to the Joplin character.

Joplin grew up with the blues, and her musical influences included Bessie Smith, Nina Simone, Etta James, and her contemporary, Aretha Franklin.  Scattered through the show, performers impersonate and sing works from these great blues singers.  An odd one out that is included is the girl group the Chantels, whose anthem “Maybe” was a Joplin favorite.  In addition to giving the lead performer a respite, these intervals add variety and context.

All four of the additional singers contribute well, as soloists and as backup singers to Joplin.  Particularly notable is Safira McGrew who plays Aretha and other parts.  Her voice is stunningly bright, accurate, and penetrating.

Of course, Janis and her songbook are the main attraction.  Most moving are “Piece of My Heart” and especially “Ball and Chain,” with their gruffness and wailing.  Yet, more laidback pieces strike the fancy as well, like “Me and Bobby McGee” and the a capella “Mercedes Benz” that delights the audience as a sing along.  Finally, the uniqueness of Janis’s style comes across in songs that are sung two ways – by others in earlier versions and later by Oberlin as Janis.  The distinctiveness shows particularly in “Summertime” and “Maybe,” which also demonstrate how versatile a good song can be.

The one caveat of the evening’s entertainment concerns the format itself.  As a musical compendium with a little history of the title character thrown in, there is no dramatic arc, so it doesn’t feel like a play.  But it will work well for anyone who enjoys treatments of the music of one of rock-and-roll’s queens.

A Night With Janis Joplin is written by Randy Johnson, produced by Sonoma Arts Live, and plays at Sonoma Community Center, 276 East Napa Street, Sonoma, CA through September 21, 2025.