Tell a musical theater aficionado that you’re going to see The Wild Party and the first question you’ll be asked is “Which one?” Will it be the 2000 Broadway show with music and lyrics by Michael John LaChiusa, or will it be the 2000 off- Broadway version with music and lyrics by Andrew Lippa?

That’s right.  Two musicals (both based on the 1928 narrative poem by Joseph Moncure March) debuted only minutes from each other in the same year.  Both shows deal with the same love quadrangle and both begin with a song whose first words are identical to the poem’s (“Queenie was a blonde and her age stood still, and she danced twice a day in vaudeville. Queenie was a blonde, and if looks could kill, she would kill twice a day in vaudeville.”)

The basic plot is simple.  Platinum blonde entertainer Queenie and Burrs, her abusive lover of 7 years, throw a party for their friends, one of whom, a firecracker named Kate, arrives with her latest flame Black. Black and Queenie hit it off, with tragic consequences.

Michael John LaChiusa’s version fleshes out the stories of a dozen or so of the party guests and features a 1920s flavored (and to many ears discordant) score, while Andrew Lippa’s Wild Party focuses mainly on the mismatched pairs of lovers and includes many showstoppers (“Let’s Raise The Roof,” “A Wild Wild Party,” etc.) which have a contemporary Broadway feel (even though Lippa’s was the off-Broadway version).

The Wild Party (a la LaChiusa) had its L.A. debut in a nearly flawless Equity waver production by the Blank Theatre in late 2005 only months after Musical Theatre Guild staged an equally memorable “reading” the Lippa show, but the latter had only a two performance run, leaving Lippa fans starving for a fully staged production.  A 2006 L.A. premiere was, unfortunately (or perhaps I should say fortunately) one of the few times I’ve witnessed truly amateurish work on a local stage. Thus, the mostly sensational Orange County premiere of Andrew Lippa’s The Wild Party, just opened at STAGEStheatre in Fullerton, comes as a long wished for treat, and signals the arrival of an important new musical theater talent, 27-year-old director/choreographer/designer T.J. Dawson.

From the moment a gunshot rings out on a darkened stage and an intensely white spotlight reveals the slender peroxide blonde figure of Jeanette Phillips as Queenie, the audience knows that it is in for something special, even more so when Phillips is joined by chorus boys dressed (or undressed) in black a-shirts, boxer briefs, garters, socks and shoes, and by chorus girls in abbreviated black lingerie and red feather boas. As Phillips sings about Queenie, the blonde with “grey eyes, lips like coals aglow” whose “face was a tinted mask of snow,” suddenly from behind the curtain of an onstage bathtub appears the imposing form of Alex Mohajer as Queenie’s abusive lover Burrs, wearing a hobo tux and red clown nose, and the two engage in simulated sex, all the while the boys and girls surrounding them continue the opening number.

And that’s just the start of some of the most adult musical theater ever seen on an Orange County stage.

Though there are a number of stellar performances in the large ensemble cast, the real star of the evening is Dawson, who, though he has based “certain pieces of choreography and direction” on “concepts from the original Off- Broadway production,” is clearly an artist with a vision ... and imagination to spare.

Some of the evening’s directorial touches include:

•Queenie in bed surrounded by dancers in black, functioning as a kind of Greek chorus

•A jazz singer singing some sensational scat as Queenie is raped by Burr

•Queenie surrounded by adoring men as if in a Ziegfeld Follies production number

•Kate making a spectacular entrance, lifting her skirt to reveal half a dozen or so flasks attached to garter belts

•“Poor Child” sung by the four leads with spots on each, two of them lit from in front and two from behind

•A drunken nightmare sequence with Burrs surrounded by the entire ensemble hiding their faces behind Queenie masks

•A violent fight sequence which nearly kills both Burrs and Eddie

•An orgiastic scene in which cast members disrobe down to their undies (doubtless left on less out of propriety than because that’s where their mike transmitters are hidden) and copulate in various permutations including some same gender canoodling.

This Wild Party features numerous pizzazzy production numbers choreographed by Dawson, including “Let’s Raise The Roof,” with its Latin beats and wild, abandoned choreography; an electrically staged “The Juggernaut,” danced with kicks and spins (the hardest workout any ensemble will likely ever be given); and a high energy “Let Me Drown” performed by Burrs, Kate, and company.  (Dawson was assisted in his choreography by young ballet vet A. J. Abrams, who performs several superlative solos in the role of the mute Jackie, most especially a graceful and poignant “Jackie’s Last Dance.”)

Dawson has assembled a talented and committed cast, and a younger one than might be the case if Actors’ Equity did the right thing and extended their 99-seat plan to Orange County, thus allowing AE performers to work in small theater productions in the O.C. 

The breakout performance of the evening is that of Laura Thatcher as Queenie’s dark-haired rival Kate, unrecognizable as the same actress who so delightfully played dumb blonde in January’s Leading Ladies. Thatcher proves herself a force-of-nature actress/vocalist who can belt or sing sweet, and stops the show not once but twice with her solos “Look At Me Now” and “Life Of The Party.

As Queenie, Jeanette Phillips bravely surmounted opening night mike troubles, proving herself a fine actress in a very difficult role. Vocally, Queenie challenges even virtuoso singers like Off-Broadway’s Julia Murney and MTG’s Tami Tappan Damiano, but Phillips gives it her all, with a passionate rendition of “Maybe I Like It This Way” being one of the evening’s highlights.

Alex Mohajer is a big guy, making his Burrs truly scary opposite waif-slim Phillips. Vocally strong, he also reveals all three dimensions of this “villain” and his and Phillips’ performance of “What Is It About Her” concludes Act 1 with a WOW!

Completing the quartet of lovers is handsome David Belowich, an ingratiating performer who does his best despite being challenged by the demands of Lippa’s music.

Unlike LaChiusa’s The Wild Party, Lippa’s version gives only three of the peripheral characters their own songs. Fortunately for the trio of performers (and for the audience), Lippa has written them a pair of show stopping numbers.

Cheryl Daro brings down the house with sex appeal and a deep sultry voice as lesbian Madeline True, looking like a cross between Norma Desmond and the Spider Woman.  Her dazzlingly inventive “Old Fashioned Love Story” is the kind of performance than wins awards for a single song.

Alternate Christopher Van Etten as pugilist Eddie and Lola Ward as his giggly girlfriend Mae channel Ernest Borgnine and Betty Boop in the charming and funny “Two Of A Kind.”

In smaller roles, Joshua Lay and Brenda Kondratczyk delight as gay lovers Phil and Oscar, wearing twin suits and mustaches. Others in the exceptional ensemble (who never leave the stage) are Danielle Beckmann, Cate Conroy, Ryann Crofoot, Kyle Dallatore, Max McMullin, Bailey Quist, Shaun Samaro, Adam Secousse, and (notably) American Idol-ready Drew Tablak, who sings scat like a seasoned jazz pro and later belts high notes to the rafters in “A Wild, Wild Party.”

Technically and design-wise as well, this is a first-rate production.  Foxton Lewyn’s lighting is spectacularly imaginative, as are Annie Riley and Dawson’s costumes. Mitch Faris’ set is simple but mobile, allowing the audience to view the party from different angles. Coryn Ellis and Jeff Weeks deserve high marks for make- up and wigs.

The songs are performed to tracks prerecorded especially for the show by musicians Stephen Armundson, Alexander “Lex” Leigh, Brian Boyce, Justin Smith, Rich Cozzi, Michael Fortunado, and David Shoop, engineered by Marcus Junkin, with sound design by Phillip Roa.  Though a certain “live” quality is lost by prerecording, what is gained is a “big” sound that gives the show far more power than a small live combo would have provided. The music cues are perfectly timed, though the volume was too high for my eardrums.

STAGEStheatre’s The Wild Party received a huge (and deserved) ovation from Friday’s opening night audience and the show can only improve and tighten as the run continues. Lippa fans who’ve been waiting for a class production of his Wild Party now have reason to rejoice.

STAGEStheatre, 400 E. Commonwealth, Fullerton. Through May 10.
Fridays and Saturdays a 8:00. Sundays at 6:00.
Reservations: www.stagesoc.org.

Steven Stanley
     --April 4, 2008

The 'Delicate Balance' of love and fear

Review: Though the cast isn't ideal, Fullerton's Stages troupe does justice to Albee's 1966 Pulitzer winner.

Anyone familiar with "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" will recognize many of Edward Albee's pet elements in 1966's "A Delicate Balance": an older couple whose familiarity has lead to ossification, the perpetual use of alcohol as a coping mechanism, an enveloping fear, whether unspoken or not.

For his troubles, Albee received his first Pulitzer. Continuing to mine similar themes brought him to "Seascape" a few years later, and a second Pulitzer.

Re-dressing the sparkling set of "Rumors" during its extended run, Stages Theatre delivers a formal staging that rings with its characters' primal wants and needs.

The cast Erin Saporito Strauss has assembled isn't ideal in terms of Albee. They're not always convincing as the upper-crust figures of the script, nor do they have the needed bite and sardonic edge. Strauss, though, provides a solid framework within which to work. Her staging, from blocking and pace to tone, is classical à la O'Neill, Williams and Miller. If not perfect, this cast at least has a fighting chance.

Albee depicts a rarefied world of wealthy WASPs, their views, tastes and prejudices. Those shown in "Balance" use two tools to cope: sarcasm and booze. The play's formal structure and tone depict a deep sadness, and Albee paints his characters in dark, despairing, poetic language.

In case anyone's wondering, the "balance" Albee refers to is between how much one does for oneself and how much one does for others – the giving of love or friendship to family and friends. Families, says Albee, can't function without love, and close friends are like family. How much to give, how much to withhold: That is the question.

Though not at center-stage, other pet themes of the famed playwright are explored – primarily, fear of insanity and loss of identity, marital and parent-child relationships, and Albee's ever-present concern for moral decay.

The focal couple are Tobias (Brian J. Page) and Agnes (Penelope VanHorne), whose comfortable lives have become a marathon of drinking and dropping in at the club. Best friends Harry (Frank Rich) and Edna (Harlene Miller) drop in one night, shaken to the core. They're in the grip of terror, something with no shape and to which none are immune.

Stay, they're told. We'll take care of you. Harry and Edna take their old friends at their word, moving into the unused bedroom of Julia, Toby and Agnes' 36-year-old daughter and returning the next day with suitcases in hand.

Things get sticky when Julia (Shanelle Noss) moves home after the collapse of her fourth marriage. Harry and Edna are outsiders. They're intruders. They don't belong and aren't welcome – nor, she opines, is it anyone's right to give away her bedroom, even if she is no longer, as Tobias terms her, "15 and misunderstood."

Where compromise would solve everything (stay for a limited period, then depart), Albee makes the presence of best friends an either/or moral question which forces Tobias into a corner: Which does he value more – his and Agnes' space, or his lifelong friendship with Harry?

From the sidelines, Agnes' alcoholic sister Catherine (Bonnie Werlinich) acts as court jester and Greek chorus. Harry and his wife are no more or less entitled to exploit Tobias and Agnes' generosity than their own daughter, an ironic fact only Catherine sees.

Coming through most forcefully are Page, Werlinich and Noss. With his burly frame and fierce demeanor, Page is an unconventional choice for Tobias, but he makes the role his own, adding demonstrative anger to his portrait of conciliation and introspection. Agitated and perplexed at all that unfolds, Page's Toby is a roiling caldron.

VanHorne has Agnes' snobbery and sarcasm, and she and Werlinich often stumble over their dialogue, but Werlinich's Catherine impresses with her frowsiness and casually bitter observations. She gets laughs by balancing a half-full brandy snifter on her forehead and nails the crux of human weakness when she notes, "We submerge our truths."

The slim, pretty Noss is a well-bred, elegant, casually spoiled Julia whose final confrontation with Edna is the play's emotional focal point. Albee has built a seriocomedy whose comedy tastes acrid and whose drama is deeply tragic. Love and fear, he notes with sadness, are deeply linked.

Rick Lawhorn's set is beautiful, and Strauss' redesign makes it clean, reserved and tasteful. Tellingly, a vase of dead flowers sits downstage left, for when love is drained away and terror invades, is death very far behind?

Freelance writer Eric Marchese has covered entertainment for the Register since 1984

Rumors
Backsatge, January 23, 2008
Neil Simon's 1990 comedy is built on a foundation of pain: the emotional anguish four upper-middle-class couples experience as guests of a wedding anniversary party gone awry, and the physical agony they endure after their host nearly commits suicide. Much of the former results from gossip insinuating that the host and his wife (both unseen during the entire play) are cheating on each other, as well other bits and pieces of hearsay; the latter forms the basis for an almost steady stream of scorched fingers, hives, whiplash, back spasms, swollen lips, and deafness inflicted upon its victims. Cruel, yes, but in the right hands, unfailingly funny.

Simon imbues his characters with sharp tongues and loads of sarcasm, complementing their suffering with a barrage of cleverly worked out one-liners. That foundation is the strength of Rumors, and director Brian Kojac and his cast cash in on the verbal assault while diving fearlessly into the physical humor, which they twist and embellish in ways that augment what's on the page. Kojac and Tracy Perdue play Lenny and Clair, who arrive in time to help elaborate on a growing cover-up. Working off Perdue's ditsiness, Kojac throws himself into the fray, injecting Lenny with fraught nerves and manic screams of pain. Mo Arii makes Chris' nicotine fits as funny as her drunken utterances. K.C. Mercer smartly transforms typically sweet, nerdy Ernie into a cool-headed, analytical authority figure. As Ernie's cooking-specialist wife, Cookie, Andrea Freeman is younger and more attractive, yet no less loopy, than the standard casting. Thomas Helsper milks laughs from politician Glenn's suave narcissism and deadpan demeanor, and Laura Lynn Orlow is more poised than spacy as his wife. Jon Gaw's scenic design, with its high quotient of modern art, is as spotless as a gallery. This show is pure, door-slamming fluff -- but expertly penned, rapid-fire, manic hilarity worth every penny.

'Visitations' delivers a twist for the holidays

Freelance writer Eric Marchese has covered entertainment for the Register since 1984.