The longest running Off-Broadway show in 1968-9 was Lorraine Hansberry’s autobiographical To Be Young, Gifted, and Black, drawn from her unpublished writings (It was the very first real play this reviewer ever saw – on a day pass from U.S. Army Basic Training at Fort Dix, New Jersey). Tragically, Hansberry never lived beyond young, having already died from pancreatic cancer at age 34.  After her death, the papers were adapted for the stage by her artistic partner and ex-husband Robert Nemiroff.  Also produced posthumously was the work she considered her most important, which was not quite completed at her death.  That was the play Les Blancs, which was also adapted by Nemiroff.

Oakland Theater Project and Director James Mercer II have produced a vivid and powerful rendition of Hansberry’s chilling play about relationships between colonials and locals in an undisclosed African country during a time of instability.  Notwithstanding a brilliantly delivered narrative, the production does have one considerable fault to be discussed later.

The complex drama challenges the theatergoer by offering up characters from various social, political, and racial backgrounds that refuse to fit conveniently into neat little boxes.  And the action involves brother versus brother in the very literal sense and at the highest level of conflict.

Hansberry was a committed political activist from a young age.  For this, her only play set in Africa, she was particularly influenced by the Mau Mau rebellion in Kenya and by Jean Genet’s play Les Negres.  Hansberry’s title deliberately caroms off Genet’s, and part of her motivation was to challenge the romanticized naivete in Genet’s depictions.

Les Blancs takes place in a poor village lacking electricity.  European doctors operate a primitive medical facility doing the best they can with poor resources.  It is a time of native terror in revolt against colonial rule, and one doctor notes portentously that even the foreigners who sympathize with the natives and do good works are often victimized by revolutionaries.

Into this tinderbox, Tshembe returns to his homeland from London.  His father was ill but passes before his arrival.  The centerpiece to the cognitive side of the play involves the heated discussions between Tshembe and an American journalist, Charlie Morris.  Each character is flawed, and passionate in his beliefs.  Though they both occupy middle ground in the political spectrum, they still speak past one another and each considers the other a hypocrite.  In effect, Tshembe represents Hansberry’s voice, insistent that colonialism must end, but patient enough to want an amicable parting with the colonial power.  Morris represents Jean Genet and a class of Caucasians who are socially liberal and well-intended, yet condescend and act as apologists for the historic role of colonialists.

Against this backdrop, near-stereotypical characters, but with internal conflicts and complicated underpinnings, interact.  There is the racist white African-born police officer; the elder European widow who considers Africa her home; the otherwise obedient African servant secretly involved in the revolution; the “Uncle Tom” who sells out to western religion, and thus to colonialism; and more.  In time, tragedy ensues, affecting all, not as a conflagration, but as a series of violent incidents.

OTP’s largely abstract scenic design allows the actors to deliver most of the feeling of the environment.  Jeunée Simon portrays Tshembe and creates a riveting persona, who, despite having a foot in the white world and being resistant to joining the terror, demonstrates viewpoints emphatically with body and voice.  Champagne Hughes as Charlie Morris stands up to the onslaught with like fervor.

With regard to the earlier mentioned fault, acting by each of the eight actors ranges from good to excellent.  However, one issue that will cause consternation to some audience members concerns a well-intended but confusing casting approach.  All actors appear to be black women, though the genders and races of some actors may vary from that assumption. Yet they portray black and white, man and woman.  To make things more confusing, three of the actors play two roles each.  Many audience members will be at sea until they unearth the identifications, which are not clear from the outset.

Some natives have European names like Eric and Peter.  And even with a name like Madame Nielsen or a “doctor” named Marta, we cannot assume that they are white until the facts make it clear.  Because all actors are visibly women, with the exception of Simon whose hair is cut in the fashion of a man, I had difficulty perceiving some of the characters as men, whether white or black, to the very end.

Although I am not a psychologist, I suspect that a typical mind can mentally transpose, for instance, one black female opera singer as playing Madame Butterfly, but a whole non-conforming cast taxes the cognitive ability.  As trite as it seems, it would help if markers are identified before the performance by announcing, for instance, that all characters dressed in light colors are Europeans and all in dark colors are African.  It’s unfortunate that trying to disentangle these conundrums distracts from an otherwise powerful experience.

Les Blancs, written by Lorraine Hansberry and adapted by Robert Nemiroff is produced by Oakland Theater Project, and plays at FLAX art & design, 1501 Martin Luther King Jr Way, Oakland, CA through July 27, 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://talkinbroadway.com/page/regional/sanjose/sj294.html for full review.

Serious music buffs know Jacques Offenbach for his final, unfinished but revered and oft-performed work, the episodic fantasy opera The Tales of Hoffmann.  But in France, he is renowned as the king of operetta with 98 to his credit.  Among his most enduring and endearing is La Vie Parisienne, offered in a well-produced and rousing English language version by Pocket Opera, with its opening at Berkeley’s Hillside Club.

Like most operettas, the storyline by librettists Henri Meilhac and Ludovic Halévy is fanciful.  As Artistic Director Nicolas A. Garcia notes, “Dramatic, it ain’t,” though charming and funny it is.  Parisian dandies Gardefeu (Andrew Metzger) and Bobinet (Justin Baptista) vie for the affection of demi-mondaine Metella (Phoebe Dinga), but when they see her at the train station with another man, the suitors turn to another quarry.  An arriving Swedish baron’s wife (Madison Hatten) appeals, and the baron’s (Jonathan Spencer) wayward ways provide the opportunity for Gardefeu to spirit the baroness away.

The silly subterfuge involves representing Gardefeu’s apartment, where the honored guests will stay, as an overflow of the Grand Hotel, where they are booked.  Dalliances ensue, but in the end, the old alliances are reaffirmed.  Although the plot and humor build slowly, Acts 3 and 4 after intermission redeem the work.  Overall, the artists exude charm and sing the 19^th century French pop music with verve.

Offenbach’s music doesn’t possess the sweep of his more serious efforts, but it is lively throughout.  Some of the songs highlight loopy repetition like “frou, frou, toc, toc” or goofy topics like whether boots or gloves are more important to fashion.  The latter is sung by Frick the bootmaker (Michael Mendelsohn) and Gabrielle the glovemaker (Marla Kavanaugh), whose subplot is totally superfluous, but they are pleasing performers, so all is forgiven….. Continue at TalkinBroadway.com .

Naughty, bawdy, and gaudy.  That’s what you can expect from pretty much any performance at Oasis, and Jurassiq Parq: A Musiqal Parody does not disappoint.  In many ways, a jukebox musical, it is full of familiar tunes as the characters sing and frolic their way through a genial romp full of visual and verbal sexual innuendo.  The plot, based on the obvious, doesn’t say much, but that’s not why you go to the Oasis anyway.

Perhaps because the wisecracks play into the iconography of the actors, some of the lead players have the names of the actors from the 1993 film rather than the names of the characters they performed.  Elanor Irene Paul is Dr. Laura Dern, while Marshall Forte is Dr. Jeff Goldblum, who is totally lascivious and self-centered.

But rather than portraying Richard Attenborough, drag queen great Vanilla Meringue plays the creator of the park as Colonel Sanders Hammond (Hammond being the character in the film), with an obvious nod to Kentucky Fried Chicken.  This notion gets some gag time in the musical – with video segments suggesting that chickens are descended from dinosaurs and that the Colonel created the four-breast chicken.  It’s also a bit of a riff on the movie Victor/Victoria in which Julie Andrews plays a woman who impersonates a man who impersonates a woman.  In this case, it is a man with a public persona as a female drag queen performing the role of a man, but disguised not to reveal his real appearance.

Along with the schtick that draws directly from the movie’s leads, there is plenty of space given to song, dance, and mugging by miscellaneous personages.  The well-chosen songfest is replete with well-performed singalong hits from the ‘80s and ‘90s that most of the crowd can relate to.  A taste of the offerings includes Britney Spears’ “Oops!…I Did It Again,” Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing,” Cyndi Lauper’s “Time After Time,” and No Doubt’s “Don’t Speak.”

However, the much-repeated closing anthem, 4 Non Blondes’ “What’s Up?” with its plaintive question “What’s going on?” proves the most poignant.  It speaks to a time of despair; sympathizes with those who feel or are viewed as peculiar; and calls for revolution to get up that “great big hill of hope.”  It’s a sad but vital message for these times.

At one level, the performances are so wink-wink spoofy with over-the-top acting, that it’s hard to appreciate their quality, but the acting is quite decent, and as Billy Crystal would say, some of the voices are “simply mahvelous.”  Oasis is noted for its drag queen performances, but this production includes only dabs of the flamboyant ladies, which may be a disappointment for some.

What surprises are the production values in this Michael Phillis directed show. To give an idea how similar to theater productions this is, there is a dazzling variety of costumes (Kypper Snacks) and over 1,200 action cues for operators in the lighting and sound design.  Maxx Kursunski’s lighting is notable, though I don’t know if the trail and framing lights that shift colors in the ceiling are permanent or for this show.  Jerry Girard’s sound is carried mostly by hand microphones, which is a bit unusual, but is perhaps a concession to the staging.  Another significant element is the video projections (no design attribution given), which are striking on their own, but also work extremely well in interaction with live characters.

The staging concession referenced is that the action is split between the permanent stage and a temporary platform in the center of the audience.  The division creates a bigness and dynamism in the production that works nicely, but the price to pay is that the audience behind the platform is standing, so they can see the main stage.  And it means these patrons have to hold their drinks.  Table seating between the main stage and the platform is VIP, for an extra charge.

In any case, for those who have not experienced this kind of rowdy LGBTQ entertainment, Jurassic Parq represents a good opportunity to join in the fun.  My wife/editor, Karin, and I probably skewed both the age and sexual preference demographics of the house, but we both had a great time.  For the regulars, it’s just what the doctor ordered.

Jurassiq Parq: A Musiqal Parody, written by Michael Phillis and produced by OasisArts and Michael Phillis, plays on the stage of Oasis Nightclub at 298 11^th Street, San Francisco, CA through August 2, 2025.

The sun rises each day in the east.  New York City is the most populous city in the United States.  Stephen Curry is a basketball player with the Golden State Warriors.  These would seem to be objective realities – at least as expressed by the verbal symbols for these objects in the English language.

Yet, linguistic theories suggest that the same things are perceived differently depending on the language representing them.  In the social sciences, the theory of Social Construction of Reality suggests that each person perceives a distinct world.  And in the physical sciences, competing theories allow for the existence of parallel universes.

These notions comprise the backdrop for Nick Payne’s innovative and stimulating play Constellations, the title of which suggests perceptive distortion.   While we see constellations in the sky as if all of the stars are in one plane facing us, some stars in the cluster may actually be millions of miles further away from our eyes than others.

Marianne is an astrophysicist at Cambridge University, an intellectual who perceives that there may be multiple universes with corresponding multiples of individuals making decisions with free choice.  Roland, a beekeeper, is grounded in the system of nature as most people would define and understand it.  He is more deterministic, focusing on the natural roles that are laid out for various species.

The disparate pair meet and fall in love.  Marianne tells Roland of things like the contradictions of particle and quantum physics, whereas he talks of the utter predictability of the social structure of bee colonies.  As suggested by the gulf in the couple’s world views and interests, nothing in the narrative convinces that these two would ever have a basis for connection, much less marriage – this being one of the gaps in the script that makes it less convincing.

They share the little pleasures of courtship as well as the disappointments with one another along the way.  The compelling conceit of the play is that each of the distinct vignettes between the two is presented three times with variation in each.  In some cases, the exchange is identical until the very end, when the outcome can change.  In others, the three versions differ significantly from the start of the tale.  Otherwise, a significant event may affect one of the partners in the first two tellings of the episode, but it affects the other in the third.  Essentially, the concept reveals the world from Marianne’s perspective of multiple realities. 

Constellations was devised as a two-hander, with the same actors performing all three variations of each episode.  The Pear Theatre has deviated by using three sets of actors playing the two characters.  Not having seen the two-hander format, it’s impossible to criticize with certainty, however, this much is clear.  While the play’s concept is interesting and the specifics of the storyline are mostly very engaging, it is fundamentally a talkfest with little action.

In this version, there is no scenery save for designs of the universe on the stage floor, so it is a truly acting-centric production.  All of the actors are always on a dimmed stage with the spotlight shifting from one couple to another accordingly, creating some dynamism and the energy of six actors.  With only two actors, one can imagine the play to be much more static.

Also, with three actors playing each part, it’s a bit like seeing different aspects of their personalities, one Marianne more bubbly, another struggling with aphasia and unable to articulate some of the words that her mind produces.  The two-hander format may allow for more tour-de-force acting, with each actor showing greater range.  On the other hand, it must seem a bit like either an acting class or different takes from filming movie scenes with having to repeatedly differentiate nearly the same material.

The cast of The Pear production, all identified in the photos, excels in creating empathetic characters with their various dimensions.  The minimalist staging suits the spareness of the plotline.

Another interesting format twist by Director Reed Flores is that after the play, some audience members randomly select which actors will play which of the three roles for each character in the next performance.  It could be intriguing to see the play a second time with the actors in different capacities.

Often, theatergoers ask the purpose of a play.  Perhaps the defining contribution of this one is raising the awareness that individual perceptions differ.  Reconciling, or at least realizing, those differences may be the start to better understanding one another.

Constellations, written by Nick Payne, is produced by The Pear Theatre, and plays on its stage at 1110 La Avenida St., Mountain View, CA through July 20, 2025.

Central Works’ unique position in the East Bay market is producing world premiere plays, the current offering being their 77^th.  Usually designed for small casts due to the company’s tiny residence at Berkeley City Club, The Last Goat is a three-hander written and directed by company Co-Director Gary Graves.  Its twist on a traditional family theme of elder care triggers turns in the plot that result in a highly entertaining experience with a tense narrative and outstanding execution.

Set on the remote Greek island of Kasos in the 12^th century BC, two women live in a large, old house – an older woman, Melina, played as dour and suspicious by Jan Zvaifler, and her granddaughter, Kori, portrayed as restless and yearning by Liris Robles.  Blessed with a water source in an otherwise inhospitable terrain, they grow wonderous produce and catch fish from the sea, but they are down to their last goat.  Kori dreams of escape to a normal world, but one of the foundations of family life is that the younger generation, especially females, care for the older when they are in need.

Into their lives comes an intruder, a young man, Nikolis, performed by a seemingly sincere but crafty Andre Amarotico.  His story is that he is from a wealthy family in Mykonos; was returning from war in Ilios; and his boat was sunk by a sea monster of some sort.  He seeks sustenance, shelter, and a way to get back home.

The plot concerns the interactions among the three characters.  We soon learn that, like the goat, the women represent the end of an era as the only remaining humans on an island that has been depleted by plague and war.  But they differ on fight or flight in response to the adversity.

Informed by previous experience, Melina bears an inherent distrust of men, always meeting Nikolis with a knife in her hand.  Zvaifler’s Melina is harsh, cautious, and defensive.  Though he is deferential to the point of obsequiousness, she cynically questions Nicolis’s every motive, repeatedly asking him why he is here and assuming that he holds unstated aspirations at the women’s expense.  At the same time, Kori and Nikolis seem attracted to one another, but is it real, or does each see a way to use the other?  Kori resents and squabbles with her grandmother; finds Nicolis appealing; is prepared to abandon her grandmother to total solitude; and sees Nikolis as her ticket out, if they only had a seaworthy boat.

Along with the characters’ verbal thrusts and parries come unexpected revelations from their backstories that make for more complex relationships in an engrossing triangle of mistrust.  Nikolis’s clumsiness in responding to some questions only heightens Melina’s skepticism about his trustfulness. Meanwhile, Melina discloses to Kori stories about her parents that the latter had never heard.   Intrigue sets the stage for additional conflict.  Is there a way that these three can reconcile their differences and find some way forward?

The production is well crafted with Central Works’ typically spare staging, which in this case seems appropriate given that décor would not have been well developed in the Bronze Age.  One anachronism however is the use of contemporary costumes, but that decision does allow situational dressing that works well and that the audience can understand.

Acting is solid with particular kudos going to Amarotico, who deserves recognition even before beginning his main role.  At (figurative) curtain up, he masterfully portrays a highly effusive and interesting professor who gives a lecture on the Bronze Era and the locale of the play’s action.  His range is extended as he adroitly expresses the many faces of the opaque Nikolis.

Beneath the surface, The Last Goat explores numerous themes.  Beyond family loyalty and responsibility, it examines self-determination, personal relationships, and life’s priorities.  It is a thoughtful and thought-provoking work.

The Last Goat, a world premiere written by Gary Graves, is produced by Central Works and plays at Berkeley City Club, 2315 Durant Ave., Berkeley, CA through July 27, 2025.

The history of the United States builds largely on the motifs of freeing ourselves from British rule and conquering the Native American populations before and after Independence.  The American Southwest deviates from that tradition with a history of Spanish and then Mexican control of the region, complete with Hispanic populations, preceding the Southwestern states’ admittance into the Union.

Aztlán is the ancestral home to the Aztec people, perhaps a millennium ago.  Its location is unknown, and while the Aztecs thrived mostly in central Mexico, some believe that Aztlán reached into California.  This link forms the foundation for Luis Alfaro’s engaging world premiere play at Magic Theatre.  The dramatic opening with spirit dancing on a low-lit stage depicts possible ritual behaviors of the people.

Central to the play is the character named Aztlán, portrayed as a highly volatile young man diagnosed with dangerous anger and impulse control issues when a pre-teen.  Having later spent nine years in prison for a robbery that was not consummated and a related death by heart attack that he tried to prevent, his resentment is understandable, but his uncontrolled and wide-ranging rage is self-destructive.

Returning to his roots, which are those of the playwright, Aztlán tries to reconstruct his life in Delano, a small city in the Central Valley of California.  However, he faces the obstacles that only an ex-con on parole confronts – a maze of restrictions on movement and activities and financial precariousness that make it difficult to carve out a viable livelihood.

A magnetic Daniel Duque-Estrada seethes as the violent hothead whose strings are pulled unmercifully by a sadistic parole officer.  Ogie Zulueta captures the cruelty of Aguila, the mocking PO, who rejects multiple urine samples, only to require Aztlán to come in earlier for the next one.  Never mind the unsatisfactory schedules and unreliability of the buses to get him in for a preposterous 4:00 a.m. appointment.

Aztlán is equally jerked around with his housing.  In one of the few light touches in the play, Juan Amador deftly portrays his twin landlords with opposite personalities, changing personas by twirling from one side of Aztlán to the other, reversing his baseball cap, and changing his affect.

A large part of the narrative concerns Aztlán trying to reconnect with his family, though his mean father is dead, and his vacuous, self-serving mother played disdainfully by Catherine Castellanos, never communicated with him while he was in prison.  His hope is in his older brother, Mickey, who always stood up for him when he was a kid.  But people grow up, change, take on different roles in the life cycle, move on, and more, and the younger brother doesn’t really know what to expect.

Aztlán excels as a case study in post-incarceration challenges and as an almost harrowing study of a man so explosive that randomly coming into contact with him could result in life alteration.  What is most lacking is a strong connection between the protagonist’s narrative and the cultural theme.  The interludes with Aztec myth are energetic and appealing with their visual and aural power.  In addition, there are references to “when we were kings” and the disrespect that Mexican-Americans suffer in modern times.  But Aztlán’s woes are not well tied to loss of cultural agency or discrimination from the majority community.  Rather, he, his family, and the people around him just seem to be a clutch of bad characters who could be of any ethnicity in any place.

Another issue is that while a playwright’s stage directions in the script may provide clarification, audience members don’t have the luxury of seeing them or possibly the time to process brief introductions.  Thus, with characters like Huitzil, it is unclear whether she is real or mythic or Aztlán’s dream, and with Martina (Castellanos again) in her long, absorbing soliloquy, whether she is historical or simply “on” something.

The acting is excellent throughout.  In addition to those mentioned, the other actors and their main roles are Gabriela Guadelupe as Huitzil and Sean San Jose as Mickey and the Spirit.  Kinan Valdez directs with a sure hand, despite the major changes that took place up until hours and even minutes before opening.  Tanya Orellana’s simple but striking scenic design is enhanced by Alejandro Acosta’s sharp and eerie lighting, Joan Osato’s projections, and David Arevalo’s costumes.  Christopher Sauceda’s sound adds an ominous dimension.

Aztlán, a world premiere written by Luis Alfaro, is produced by Magic Theatre and plays at Fort Mason, Building D, 2 Marina Blvd., San Francisco, CA through July 13, 2025.

A young, unidentified woman from a dysfunctional family graduates a New England college with no family or friends present.  Seeing no clear path to the future in her current situation, she drives west leaving no forwarding information behind, and not stopping until she reaches the Golden Gate.

This is Word for Word’s sterling production of Lauren Groff’s Annunciation, with an outstanding ensemble cast and an often frenetic production directed by Joel Mullennix that ensures pace and action in a narrative heavy on exposition.  It is the story of The Woman’s hard scrapple existence as she tries to gain a toehold on financial independence, starting from scratch.  So desperate is she that at a youth hostel in San Francisco, she pinches food supplies left behind by guests for the hostel.  And when she starts working, she grabs anything available from food trays at meetings.

Having seen previous performances and even having chatted with her, I knew to expect professional work from Rosie Hallett.  However, I was unprepared for how she confidently commanded the stage in a huge part as The Woman, virtually on cue non-stop for nearly 90 minutes.  Although very demanding, Hallett’s role is more as a raconteur than an actor with comparatively little range in affect.  Perhaps her greatest deviation from neutral emotion is when she sneers with disgust as a colleague at a meeting snares a bagel that she hoped to pocket for her next meal.  Most of the humor and frenzy are given to the other characters, and in part, The Woman is a straight man/woman/person/whatever to five comic actors.

When The Woman finds a temporary job in Redwood City and housing in a guest cottage in Mountain View, she stabilizes enough that two people will have recurring involvement in her life.  Her wise mentor but still young co-worker, Anaïs (a guarded Molly Rebekka Benson), is a mystery woman who lives with her preschool daughter in a van, even though she is working and can afford to donate $1,000 to a charlatan televangelist preacher.

The Woman’s landlady, Griselda (Patricia Silver, charter member of Word for Word), lives on a large plot of valuable land, yet picks scraps like an unfinished jar of honey from neighbor’s trash.  Full of fanciful tales of time spent with the likes of Andy Warhol, David Bowie, and more, if believable, Griselda’s earlier life was fantastisch, as she would say in her native German.  The Woman gains more control over her future after working for a while, but sad incidents occur with both Griselda and Anaïs, her main links to humanity.

Many sparkling, high energy vignettes accent the narrative, with props and characters in ever-changing costumes shot from the wings like cannon balls.  A toreador and bull flash across the stage. Celebrities appear and disappear in an instant.  Young Griselda briefly basks in the sun on a yacht.  Younger women are generally played with verve by Monica Rose Slater, while older women are mostly played by an also highly animated JoAnne Winter (WfW Artistic Director) or Benson.

Brennan Pickman-Thoon plays the male ensemble parts plus one other.  If you think back to some meta-theatrical movie that you’ve seen, you may remember an acting teacher having students do something ridiculous such as acting like a dog.  Well, this is a rare case where that training is actually put to use.  With only the costumery aid of furry paws with claws, Pickman-Thoon amazes in his complex characterization of a 200-pound English mastiff, from romping enthusiasm to hopeless despair as he tries but is unable to bark as his voice box has been removed.

I have collected a few opinions concerning the broader arc of the story.  There is considerable disagreement, not on the facts, but in interpretation and conclusion.  Some view this as a coming of age in which unpleasant obstacles are vanquished by The Woman, and much of the sorrow that occurs is the reality of life.  She survives and succeeds.  And while she previously regretted turning too much away from life, she has embraced it more in her new environs.

Others feel, despite the light touch in much of the production, that the events are relentlessly depressing and that the protagonist doesn’t fully escape her demons.  Half empty?  Half full?  In any case, the story is provocative and engaging, and the production is energetic and powerful.

At this point, I wonder if those who aren’t familiar with Word for Word realize that this essay has not been a review of a play per se.  The production is a fully staged and acted short story with no changes to the text.  If the words in the original prose read “she states” or “she looks longingly at the billowing clouds,” an actor, selected by the director as most appropriate, will speak those exact words.  This is what WfW has done since its inception in 1993 with remarkable results.  Particular kudos are due the director of any of these works, as a host of decisions not faced in a play make this a more complex undertaking.

Short stories set for the stage opens up a whole new dimension in performance to theater goers.  The members of the company may know better, but my research has not revealed another company anywhere that shares Word for Word’s mission.  It’s great to have them with us in one of the country’s premier regions for theater.

Annunciation, a performed short story written by Lauren Groff and published by New Yorker Magazine, is produced by Word for Word and Z Space, and plays at Z Below, 450 Florida Street, San Francisco, CA through July 13, 2025.

World premieres are always a crap shoot, but the risk is reduced when the material is taken from a known source.  In this case, TheatreWorks Silicon Valley has produced a musical version of a successful play and movie, the new variation being Come Back to the 5 & Dime Jimmy Dean Jimmy Dean: A New Musical.  Akin to its cult-like predecessors, it is a true delight in every respect, with an ensemble of fine actors and great creative design.

Desolate far west Texas desert, between Odessa and El Paso, equals South Carolina in size but has many times more rattlesnakes, scorpions, and horny toads than people.  One of its towns, Marfa, has blossomed into a small artist colony in recent times, but previously was best known for the filming of the movie Giant, released in 1956.  Before the movie’s opening, icon and idol James Dean would die in a car accident, having played the antihero Jedd Rink.  He would earn outsized respect based on acting in only three movies, for which he received two posthumous Oscar nominations.

The central character in 5 & Dime is Mona, from the even smaller fictional town of McCarthy.  She’s a focused and slightly condescending type aptly portrayed by Lauren Marcus.  Her life is indicative of how a random event can induce promise of a brighter future to go off the rails.  An extra in the film Giant, she became pregnant ostensibly by James Dean.  As a single mother to a boy she named Jimmy Dean, she dedicated her emotional life to the memory of the actor, starting the “Disciples of James Dean” club.  Now, in 1975, it celebrates the 20^th anniversary of the actor’s death.  The action of the play also flashes back to 1955.

Although the play seems shallow at first, it achieves uncommon depth in time, despite having characters that are cardboard thin.  Its messages are as relevant today as they were then.  The celebration takes place at the Kress 5 & Dime in McCarthy, and before long, the other three members of the club appear.  Sissy (a vivacious Stephanie Gibson) has a big sexual appetite and dreams of being a country singing star.  Stella Mae (Hayley Lovgren, whose singing pipes raise the roof, as in her anthem “God damn, I love Texas”) is an emigree to Dallas, childless, but has 100 oil wells with children’s names instead.  And Edna Louise (Ashley Cowl, who is clearly not an ugly duckling) is a Chicana who was ridiculed for her looks and ethnicity. 

A legitimate small-town Texas vibe can be felt, which this reviewer can verify from personal history.  Loretta (the distinguished Judith Miller) manages the 5 & Dime and represents the rural way of life.  A bible beater who is either ignorant or hypocritical, yet good hearted, she’s even tolerant enough to allow the other women to drink booze in the store, even though she’s a teetotaler.  At the other extreme, Jimmy Dean (played by the androgynous trans guy Ellie van Amerongen), who is anything but typical Texan, drifts in and out of the action.

The soundtrack comprises country-rock songs that are 100% listenable melodies and with thoughtful lyrics that drive the story.  Music is by Dan Gillespie Sells, with lyrics by award winning Shakina, who is notable as the first trans performer ever with a regular part on network television.  She also plays Joanne, a mysterious traveler who just happens upon the action, though McCarthy is on the road to nowhere.

The narrative brims with denouements, big and small.  We learn secrets about husbands, wayward and worse, and about resentments among the women themselves.  Some key disclosures occur in songs, personal “secrets” some of which were known by everyone.

After Edna Louise is ridiculed for how her party dress looks given her pregnancy (I thought she looked great), she and Joanne share a touching duet in the bathroom as each tells of how she has suffered scorn throughout her life.  In another clever but sad number, Edna Louise sings (in Spanish, with Stella Mae translating!) how an Anglo teacher made the Mexican-American kids “bury” their language in an elaborate procedure and refrain from ever speaking it at school.

Something interesting happened opening night that is more common in opera than in musicals.  Sissy exposed herself with raw emotion in her sincere reveal song.  At its end, the audience couldn’t tell whether the song was over, or whether it was a long pregnant pause.  But perhaps more respectful than hardy applause was the absolute dead, focused silence from the audience.  What’s more, Mona then sang her reveal, and, who would have thunk it, it was déjà vu all over again with unwavering silence.

5 & Dime is full of comic moments and considerable discussion of sex, but it provokes thoughts about friendship in a layered manner.  We first see friends sharing bonding experiences as the women yak and laugh.  But scratching beneath the surface, we see the expressed and hidden clashes.  Yet, scratching further, we sense their warm feeling of communion, despite differences.

The play also examines self-perception and self-delusion.  Our self-evaluation is often based not just on what we think of ourselves, but how we perceive that other people see us.  As these women find, their long-time friends are often privy to what each concealer thought were her own secrets.  Fessing up to some of these embarrassments actually breaks down walls and helps create more sincere relationships.

Favored with a well-crafted and heartwarming musical, Director Giovanna Sardelli pulls the pieces together, extracting sympathy and laughter, each in good measure.  Frequent design collaborators, Nina Ball with scenic, Kurt Landisman with lighting, and Cliff Carruthers with sound all contribute to a top-notch production.

Come Back to the 5 & Dime Jimmy Dean Jimmy Dean: A New Musical is written by Ashley Robinson, based on the play by Ed Graczyk, with music by Dan Gillespie Sells and lyrics by Shakina, is produced by TheatreWorks Silicon Valley, and plays at Mountain View Center for the Performing Arts, 500 Castro Street, Mountain View, CA through July 13, 2025.

You may not know the name Jean-Baptiste Poquelin, but no doubt you know him by his pen name, Molière, the 17^th century playwright and the greatest exponent of French farce and indeed, a non plus ultra of French language literature.  Several of his characters still reign as exemplars of stereotypes, perhaps the most famous of those being Tartuffe, the relentless swindler and unrepentant hypocrite.

In 1980, the opera Tartuffe, composed by Kirke Mechem, premiered at San Francisco Opera, and it has been one of the most successful operas by an American composer.  Pocket Opera, which specializes in English-language, chamber versions of opera’s warhorses as well as many lesser lights has produced a version that delights at every level.  The power of the cast’s voices makes one question whether they are amplified (they’re not), and their comic acting is as good as their singing.  It is difficult to suggest where there could be improvement in the casting or the performances.

Though Tartuffe is the center of attention from the outset, the central character doesn’t appear for the first hour.  His advocates and financial lifelines, Mme Pernelle, and especially her son Orgon, are infatuated and cultishly blind to his deception (Does this seem familiar?).  Both sing of his purity, to a chanting counterpoint chorus of detractors.

To daughter Mariane’s horror, Orgon wants her to marry the reprobate, which prompts a cute duet between her and the maid Dorine, after Mariane contemplates suicide.  Ultimately, Orgon insists on making Tartuffe sole heir of the family assets, without finalizing the binder of marriage.  At this point, the action really heats up as the rest of the family fight to expose him.

Among those who see through Tartuffe’s artifice, Orgon’s kids and wife are on to him big time. Mariane expresses it plaintively in her aria “Father, I beg you.”  Wife, Elmire, is more exasperated and sarcastic with her “How strange men are! And stranger still that women need them so” which goes on to slyly note “What a myth is marital bliss.”

This Tartuffe is very much an outstanding ensemble, and each of the cast of eight basks in the spotlight.  Rather than sprinkle the review with commendations that apply to each artist – commendable power, accurate pitch, good range, and acting charm – I’ll divvy performers into two convenient categories:  #1 “I Knew They Were Great As I’ve Seen Them Multiple Times Before” – Shawnette Sulker as Dorine, Melissa Sondhi as Mariane, Courtney Miller as Elmire, Eugene Brancoveanu as Tartuffe, and #2 “I Minimally Write 15 Reviews For 6 Bay Area Opera Companies Per Year, And Why Do I Not Know These Fine Talents?” – Alix Jerinic as Mme Pernelle, Isaiah Musik-Ayala as Orgon, Julio Ferrari as Damis (Orgon’s son), Max Ary as Valere (Mariane’s boyfriend).

The success of this opera starts with the storyline, which is one of the great farces of all time.  On top of that, Mechem’s music, particularly the orchestral support conducted by Music Director Kyle Naig, is delightfully tonal and accessible.  Lyrics offer clever rhymes and rhythmic series of things.  And for those not enthusiastic about farce, the music acts as another dimension that seems to temper the silliness.

Largely, this is like an 18^th century number opera with independent arias that can be lifted from the score.  Not all of the arias are highly melodic, but one in particular stands out, Dorine’s “Fair Robin I love.”  Perhaps it resonates because the tune sounds much more like an Anglo-American folk song than an opera aria.  It’s a bit odd, however, that this character not essential to the plot sings the most memorable solo. 

In addition to the shining music, hammy acting makes this piece work.  Several riotous, chaotic ensembles integrate both performance components, contributing to the brightness.  Finally, staging plays a key role.  Stage Director Nicolas A. Garcia deserves kudos for integrating the pieces into a brilliant whole.  He has also designed the costumes, while Daniel Yelen created the scenery.  The well-coordinated palette of clothing and furnishing, dominated by gleaming, solid colors provide more cheer.

In all, this is an experience that will leave you culturally enriched and smiling.

Tartuffe with music and libretto by Kirke Mechem and based on Molière’s play of the same name is produced by Pocket Opera.  It offers two remaining performances – at the Legion of Honor, 100 34^th Avenue (Lincoln Park) San Francisco, CA on June 22, 2025 and Mountain View Center for the Performing Arts, 500 Castro Street, Mountain View, CA on June 29, 2025.

A prodigy in his youth and prodigious in the whole of his too brief life, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was one of opera’s greatest composers.  His five warhorses are known by most opera buffs by a single word – the Italian language compositions Giovanni, Figaro, and Cosi, and the German language Flute and Seraglio.  Perhaps next in esteem, and in some ways more important than the rest, is Idomeneo.

San Francisco Opera offers only its fifth ever production of Idomeneo.  Contrast that with its other summer offering La Bohème, which has appeared in 46 of the company’s seasons! Idomeneo’s stellar cast and Mozart’s immortal music make for a worthy opera experience.

In 1781, Mozart is all of 24 years of age.  His new composition, Idomeneo would become Mozart’s earliest opera to rise to the opera repertory.  Its significance lies in its adoption of new principles.  Strongly influenced by Gluck and contemporary French composers with a foundation in Italian traditions, this opera holds a major position in the reform movement.  It embraces arias, ensembles, and ballet (though not in this production) along with more realistic emotional depictions than previous operas.

The title character is a minor player in classic Greek plays.  Librettist Giovanni Battista Varesco introduces Enlightenment sensibilities to his story and injects the volatile Elettra (better known in English as Electra) with a vital role.  The crux of the plot concerns the ancient tradition in which leaders are asked to make sacrifices to placate the Gods, thus demonstrating their fealty to a higher power, just as leaders expect from their subjects.  To survive a storm at sea, Idomeneo, King of Crete, promises Neptune that upon reaching safety, he will sacrifice the first person he sees.  Tragically for him, that person is his son Idamante.

Mellifluous tenor Matthew Polenzani brings the conflicted Idomeneo to life with a wide range of emotions and his usual exemplary singing.  His apotheosis is perhaps the finest aria from the opera, “Fuor del mar” (“Saved from the sea”) in which Idomeneo questions why he was saved only to sacrifice his son.  Polenzani handles (or creates?) the liberal ornamentation in this soliloquy with consummate skill.  He then revisits the king’s anguish in the final act.

Females voice the other three leads.  Mezzo Daniela Mack reprises her role as Idamante from the SF Opera 2008 production.  Though a male character, the part is written to be voiced by any gender.  A trousers role for Mack, her vocal timbre simulates a countertenor to give greater credibility to a female singing it.

While giving an exemplary singing performance, Mack took ill at opening, as announced by General Manager Matthew Shilvock before Act 3, begging the audience’s indulgence.  Mack soldiered on, and if there was any sacrifice in her volume, there was none in her vocal quality or performance.  Oddly, this was a dolorous period for Idamante, so perhaps the illness didn’t hurt Mack’s characterization.

Two dramatic soprano roles complete the top of the bill, and what a pair.  The larger role is Ilia, daughter of King Priam of Troy, who has been defeated by Greek forces led by King Idomeneo.  Captured by the Greeks, Ilia falls in love with Idamante.  Ying Fang plays the role which opens with a searing aria.  She maintains lovely tonal and lyrical quality even throughout the dramatic elements.

Like Mack, Elza van den Heever is a Merola and Adler Fellow graduate, loved as a part of the greater SF Opera community.  She is Elettra, and she tears through the role with the power of a lioness with strong and accurate vocalizations.  Near the climax, she finds her aspirations crumbling, and her mad scene is an emotive tour-de-force of sound and sight.

This production should definitely be seen, yet the score has issues.  While the music is Mozart, it lacks arias that would appear on popularity lists.  However, a trio and a remarkable duet that morphs into a quartet, with each principal bemoaning a life worse than anyone elses, are both thrilling pieces.  The other matter is that particularly the first half of the 3 ½ hour run time is dominated by stand and deliver singing with relatively little interaction.  Thankfully, the latter part redeems the earlier.

Further, while the cast is blessed with top international performers who show why they are on top, production decisions won’t be to everyone’s liking.  The fixed hardware of the angular set is comprised of white walls with doors for egress.  Australian Stage Director Lindy Hume’s concept is to project scenes and distortions of nature against this backdrop, particularly crashing seas and billowing leaves of trees from Tasmania. This ties in thematically with the Enlightenment period’s growing interest in nature and situates the action in Australia where the production was originated.  Some will find this approach less satisfactory than a conventional staging, and it may seem to be in response to budget limitations.  Disclosures – I have no idea if a run of projections like this actually costs less than full staging, and the projections look much more vivid and attractive in photos than they did from my seat.

Similarly, darkly-hued contemporary costumery is often worn, and with the chorus on stage, it creates a bit of a pall, which, granted, is consistent with the storyline.  The chosen outfits were probably another reflection of the director’s dark vision of the narrative and perhaps another attempt to put a more modern stamp on the production.

Idomeneo, composed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart with libretto by Giovanni Battista Varesco based on Antoine Danchet’s opera libretto Idomenée is produced by San Francisco Opera and plays at War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco, CA through June 25, 2025.