The Foreigner at TLT

Stranger in a hilariously strange land

by Michael Dresdner

L to R: Blake York, Charlie Stevens     All photos by Dennis K Photography

On the opening night of their 100^th year, Tacoma Little Theatre pulled out all the stops with an intensely funny and perfectly executed Larry Shue comedy called The Foreigner. It was so good that even this jaded, “seen it all before” reviewer was laughing out loud at the antics of director Cassie Pruitt’s wonderful ensemble cast.   

Sadly, I can’t tell you much about the play’s plot because it would ruin a lot of the very unexpected humor, so I’ll do what everyone else does; just offer you the set-up and hope you will trust me enough to go see it mostly on my say so.

L to R: Mikel Michener, Jen Aylsworth

S/Sgt. Froggy LeSueur (Mikel Michener) arrives at a Georgia hunting lodge to drop off his friend Charlie Baker (Blake York) for a few days while he goes on maneuvers. The ultra-shy Charlie is horrified at having to converse with strangers, so Froggy tells their host, Betty Meeks (Jen Aylsworth) that Charlie is a foreigner and speaks no English at all. She finds that thrillingly charming (why, honey child, she just never met no foreigner before) and quickly misinterprets every little action as stuff that’s plumb natural for foreigners, no matter how unlikely and absurd it is.

Rev. David Marshall Lee (Cody Wyld Flower) and his fiancé, Catherine Simms (Caiti Burke) both take that as a free pass to be able to speak freely about private matters both around him, and in Catherine’s case, to him. Lee wants to buy the old lodge with Catherine’s money and turn it into… See, there you have it. One of the those things I mentioned that I can’t give away lest I ruin the comedy.

L to R: Jen Aylsworth, Cody Wyld Flower, Charlie Stevens, Brian Cox 

The rather duplicitous Reverend Lee is, we’ll soon find out, not quite so nice as he pretends to be when he shows up with a completely reprehensible stereotypical Southerner named Owen Musser (Brian Cox) in tow. There’s little reward in playing a truly bad guy. The better you play the role, the more everyone genuinely hates you, and Owen was outstanding at being despicable. From the moment Cox stepped on stage he crafted both a thoroughly obnoxious and a completely recognizable archetype.  

L to R: Charlie Stevens, Caiti Burke, Cody Wyld Flower 

Last, but certainly not least, is Ellard Simms (Charlie Stevens), Catherine’s mentally challenged brother. Gangly, a bit twitchy, and delightfully funny, Stevens made Ellard captivatingly believable. His breakfast scene with Blake during Act I was magnificent. Riddled with non-stop sight gags and almost no dialogue, the “slow” boy hilariously tries to communicate with this foreign tongued stranger, who plays along ad absurdum. It was both reminiscent of and better than the best work Laurel and Hardy ever did.

L to R: Caiti Burke, Blake York, Jen Aylsworth 

The key to this play is Charlie Baker, and Blake York hit that role right out of the park. With his range of facial expressions, body language, and grab-bag of strange voices and actions, he created a character that you couldn’t take your eyes off of, and couldn’t stop laughing at.

Each of these performers would have been justifiably praised on their own, but Blake’s work as Charlie was so outstanding that he actually overshadowed much of this exceptional ensemble. How good was he? Normally I despise standing ovations because they’ve become so overused, but when Blake stepped out on stage for his bow, he got one that was richly deserved.

Not content simply to act, Blake York also designed the beautifully realistic set (abetted by the talented scenic artist and painter Jen York) but then we’ve known for some time that Blake has pretty much captured the “best set designer in the area” title already. Add that to his skill as a director and you have a very different sort of theatrical triple threat.

Jeffery Weaver did his usual top-notch job on props, set dressing, hair, and makeup. Ditto for Michele Graves’ costumes, Niclas Olson’s lighting design, and Chris Serface’s sound design. In other words, the technical side was well up to the challenge of this extraordinary cast.

Opening night was sold out. When word gets out about this triumph, every other night will be as well. Trust me; go see this one. It’s hard to imagine a more wonderfully hilarious evening.

The Foreigner

Sept. 14 to 30, 2018

Tacoma Little Theatre

https://www.tacomalittletheatre.com/

Brighton Beach Memoirs at Lakewood

When salmon meets lox

by Michael Dresdner

L to R: Drew Bates, Andrew Fox Burden      All photos by Tim Johnston

Lakewood Playhouse opened their 80^th season last night with Brighton Beach Memoirs, part one of the brilliant autobiographical trilogy by the deservedly legendary Neil Simon less than two weeks after his passing. It’s a masterpiece of timing.

By the time Simon turned his attention to his own childhood memories in this oeuvre, he had already racked up a string of close to 20 stage hits over as many years, including Come Blow Your Horn, Barefoot In The Park, The Odd Couple, Plaza Suite, The Sunshine Boys, Murder by Death, and several others.

L to R: Andrew Fox Burden, Pamela Roza 

Eugene Jerome (Drew Bates) is almost 15, not yet recovered from puberty, and living in a barely middle class Brooklyn household in 1937, a time when war was already heating up in Europe. Eugene does double duty as the narrator who fills in details and delivers a stream of comical “observations” about his family, a technique that mitigates the painfulness of their very tenuous grip on solvency.

L to R: W. Scott Pinkston, Andrea Gordon 

His father, Jack Jerome (W. Scott Pinkston) works two jobs to support his wife Kate (Pamela Roza), their sons, Eugene and his 18-year-old brother Stanley (Andrew Fox Burden), Kate’s younger and more timid sister Blanche (Brynne Garman), and her two daughters, the beautiful 16-year-old Nora (Andrea Gordon) and her 13-year-old sister Laurie (Kate-Lynn Siemers), who has a heart flutter but is treated like far more of a delicate flower than she really is. Blanche lost her husband six years earlier to cancer (a word no one says in anything but a whisper lest uttering it would bring it on) and is completely dependent on the largess of her sister’s family. They all live crammed together in a small house where they must be constantly on top of one another.

At the opening of the play, Jack has lost one of his two jobs, and son Stanley, the only other wage earner of the bunch, is on the cusp of losing his. It’s just the first of  any number of calamities, mostly financial, that befalls the stalwart tribe, but they always manage to pull together and soldier on. The glue that binds them is a deep and real familial love, something strong enough to overcome whatever comes.

Meanwhile, Eugene is grappling with his lust for his cousin Nora, the dark secret of teen masturbation, and his dual desires to be a baseball player and a writer. Throughout, he’s fed a scattering of sage sexual advice by his slightly more aware older brother, confidant, and role model Stanley.  

L to R: Pamela Roza, Brynne Garman 

Although the males take much of center stage, the best scene, and the most authentic character portrayals, comes during act two, when sisters Kate and Blanche have it out. The argument dredges up all the long-suppressed resentments of childhood, from the common “mom always liked you best” issue, to the unyielding unfairness of being the older/younger sibling. Kudos to Roza and Garman for making that scene truly sparkle.

The set, by director John Olive with props by Karrie Morrison, was large, complex, and quite appropriate, though I have seen better paint jobs from past Lakewood teams. Lighting by Michalyn Thomson was bright and clear, but I would have liked to have seen it used for more delineation. For example, there are times when Eugene verbally (not physically) “steps away” from the action to narrate, and dim lights and a spot on him would have made those transitions more crisp.

Costumes, by Rachel Wilkie were right on target for both the characters and the time period, and if you like that period’s music, which I do, you’ll love the sound design by Artistic Managing Director John Munn.

My biggest issue with this play is how much it depends on a deep understanding of the culture it portrays. Simon peels back the veneer of classic Jewish angst to expose a very specific, and very common, family dynamic. However, though it is in English, he expresses it through the unique rhythm and musicality of Yiddish jargon. That may sound easy, but it’s rather elusive for West coast ears.

Mind you, there’s nothing wrong with salmon, but it’s not lox. Though this undoubtedly sounds effete and petty, for someone who grew up as part of that culture, this rather goyisha take on Simon comes off a bit like an all-white version of Raisin in the Sun.

Still, that hairsplitting is probably lost on most patrons, and to be sure, the opening night audience definitely found this both funny and delightful. My guess is that you will too.

Brighton Beach Memoirs

Sept. 7 to 30  2018

Lakewood Playhouse

http://www.lakewoodplayhouse.org/