Dracula - Hartford Stage

The novel Dracula, by Bram Stoker, is a classic Victorian Gothic work of literature.  It can be quite scary, with enough chills and heart-palpitating moments to give even the bravest souls the jitters.  The frights, with an exception or two, are what is missing from the production of Dracula, receiving its American premiere, at Hartford Stage.  Playwright Morgan Lloyd-Malcolm is more concerned with injecting the show with a feminist, sociopolitical point of view than providing a truly entertaining piece of theater. 

Scout Backus in Dracula at Hartford Stage.  Photo by T. Charles Erickson.

In this production, which can become somewhat confusing, an actress playing the role of Mina, a secondary character in the novel, is narrating a play within a play with just a handful of actors playing various roles.  It is a cautionary tale, spotlighting the terrors in the world.  Mina, played with a forcefulness and vitality by Sara Gutierrez, provides a great deal of exposition, which feels, sometimes, like she is lecturing to the audience.  She relates the tale of Count Dracula, which, due to the show’s brevity of 100 minutes and shortage of plot, might be hard to follow for people unfamiliar with the novel. 

Sara Gutierrez in Dracula at Hartford Stage.  Photo by T. Charles Erickson.

Jonathan Harker (Luca Dixon), Mina’s husband, is the focus of the production as the story unfolds.  He travels to The Count’s castle in Transylvania to finalize real estate transactions as the vampire looks to move to London.  Back in the British capital, the emphasis is on stopping his reign of terror.   In Lloyd-Malcolm’s rendering, Dracula is seen as a shadowy figure.  His attention is on Lucy (Scout Backus), Mina’s best friend.  The scenes of him attacking the young woman can prove terrifying, as is the moment Mina herself is assailed by him.  The ensemble, which includes vampire hunter Van Helsing, Lucy’s lovers, and a deranged Renfield, is woven into the story, leading to a final confrontation and the destruction of The Count.

The production, as directed by Jackson Gay, comes in fits and starts.  When the show is moving steadily forward, utilizing Paul Whitaker’s sometimes bold, often muted Lighting Design; Caroline Eng’s often eerie Sound Design,; and Riw Rakkulchon’s functional, uncluttered Scenic Design, the show can percolate.  Fabian Fidel Aguilar’s spider-like creations are decidedly creepy and truly frightening.  But when the narration, especially at the end of the play, takes over, it can sputter. 

Lucas Dixon in Dracula at Hartford Stage.  Photo by T. Charles Erickson.

The other two principal cast members, in addition to Gutierrez, are well-suited for their roles.  Lucas Dixon’s Jonathan Harker brings a Victorian staidness and, at times, a prideful haughtiness to his role.  Scout Backus as Lucy is a valiant victim.  She imbues her role with potency and vigor before coming under the spell of The Count.  The ensemble – Caitlin Elizabeth Clouthier, Anney Giobbe, and Pauli  -  in their multiple roles, provide sufficient support to the main characters.

Dracula, playing at Hartford Stage through November 1.  Click here for dates, times, and ticket information.

 

Little Bear Ridge - Theaterworks Hartford

The play Little Bear Ridge Road had a short-lived production on Broadway with the formidable Laurie Metcalf as one of the lead performers.   But this small-scale show was engulfed by the large Broadway stage, blunting its message of hope and perseverance.  However, the work is a perfect fit for Theaterworks Hartford, where it plays through November 8.  The play, with one main set of a comfortable couch, brings the audience front and center to the action.  At times, you feel like you are a part of the household up on Bear Ridge Road.

Denise Cormier and Mishka Yarovoy in Little Bear Ridge Road.  Photo by Curtis Brown.

However, the play, written by Samuel D. Hunter, is disappointing.  I just wasn’t swept up in this slice-of-life melodrama where characters complain, shout, and try to move forward with their lives. 

The plot is simple.  Ethan, a failed writer living in Seattle who has completed his MFA degree in creative writing, has little self-esteem and is searching for his place in society.  Sarah, his aunt, is independent and opinionated and wants to be left alone.  Their lives converge when the young man arrives at her home in Idaho.  Ethan’s father, whom he has rarely spoken to, has recently passed away, and he is in town to settle his meager estate.  Their initial meeting is tentative and exploratory.  Soon, what was to be a quick visit ends up being a two-year stay.  Their hesitancy with each other grows into trust and a somewhat dependency.  Ethan is still on a journey of self-discovery, which includes a romance with James, someone he meets in town.  As the play comes to its conclusion, the lives of all three protagonists have evolved – Ethan has returned to Seattle and started writing again; his relationship with Jame has ended, and he is now in Chicago pursuing a Doctorate in Astrophyiscs; and Sarah, suffering from the ravages of cancer, spends her last moments at home with an in-home care aide.

Travis Anderson and Mishka Yarovoy in Little Bear Ridge Road.  Photo by Curtis Brown.

 

Director Rob Ruggiero keeps the interactions close, mixing tense scenes with flashes of pathos.  He perfectly layers into the production Michael Schweikardt’s Scenic Design, which is transformed throughout the show by Matthew Richards’  vivid Lighting Design and Camilla Tassi’s naturalistic Projection Design.  The paper mâché-like background morphs into a mountain landscape, a starry evening sky, and a neighborhood tavern.

The cast gives a straightforward rendering of their characters.  Denise Cormier is matter-of-fact as Sarah, but the actress adeptly, almost imperceptibly, moves from her preference for solace to favoring the human connection.  She conveys anger without being overwrought.  Mishka Yarovoy is called upon to display a diverse set of passions and sensations for Ethan.  Occasionally, the actor becomes too agitated in showing his grief and displeasure with his stance in life.  Travis Anderson’s James presents a fine portrayal of a fish out of water who, in some respects like Ethan, is trying to find his place in the universe.  The well-traveled actress Janelle Anne Robinson, in a very small role as an in-house care provider, delivers a caring, final punctuation mark to the production.

Mishka Yarovoy, Denise Cormier and Travis Anderson in Little Bear Ridge Road.  Photo by Curtis Brown.

Little Bear Ridge Road, playing at Theaterworks Hartford through November 8.  Click here for dates, times, and ticket information.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button - Off-Broadway

The new musical, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, is an inspired piece of musical theater, both a jubiliant and somber work.  Based on F. Scott Fitzgerald story of a man who ages in reverse, the show was a big hit on the London stage, winning the 2025 Olivier Award for Best Musical.  The production is set to run at The Public Theater through December 6, 2026.  A possible extension or move to Broadway could be in its future.

 

Director Jethro Compton, who also wrote the book and lyrics and created the Scenic Design, has moved the original story from New Orleans to a fishing village on the Cornish coast, circa 1918.   His multi-level set incorporates items suggestive of a coastal fishing village – weathered wooden planks, rope, and netting.   This is combined with Zoe Spur’s atmospheric lighting design that heightens the ethereal nature of this whimsical tale.  Choreographer Chi-San Howard keeps the cast in constant motion, whirling around the stage.  There are no large-scale production numbers for the performers, just a more natural flow of energetic flourishes. 

 

The plot follows the birth of Benjamin Button as a 79-year-old man.  We first glimpse him, hunched over, dressed in a full suit, sitting on his bed at home.  His mother and father, shocked and resentful, keep him in an upstairs bedroom, away from society’s prying eyes.  As the years pass, the elderly man begins to get younger.  Compton makes the correct choice of disusing extensive makeup or special effects to simulate the reverse aging process.  Instead, the actor Andrew Durand uses his physicality, costuming, and props, like glasses.

 

Yearning to be free and see the world, Benjamin escapes from his home, where he ends up at the local pub.  There he sets eyes on the barmaid Elowen, falling instantly in love.  Their “courtship,” takes a long, circuitous path that is at times blissful, celebratory, but also full of tragedy.  Time, for many reasons, is not on their side.  It is such an important aspect of the show that, throughout the production, cast members note its passage by days, months, years, even minutes.

 

Compton paces the musical at a satisfying tempo.  He has infused the show with imagination and creativity that enhances and pushes forward the story.  The underwater sequences, for example, are exquisite theatrical renderings.

 

The score, with music and lyrics by Darren Clark (and lyrics by Compton), leans heavily into folk music, sea shanties, tender ballads, and rousing ensemble numbers.  Speaking of ensemble, the show is propelled by a nine-person ensemble, in addition to the two main characters.  This group of superb performers portrays multiple characters, they sing, dance, and each also play several different instruments.

 

Andrew Durand gives an stirring performance as Benjamin Button.  It is quite a different role for the actor, who most recently was a love-struck corn grower in Shucked and a crazed desperado in Dead Outlaw.  Here, as I stated before, he credibly transforms from an aged old man to a spry lad in his teens.  The portrayal is full of wonder, as he explores his new world, and sadness as his life moves backward.

 

Kelsee Kimmel’s Elowen is full-of-life, independent, and rebellious.  As with Durand, he convincingly goes through the aging process as she experiences happiness and sadness alone and by the side of Benjamin Button.

 

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, playing at The Public Theater through December 6.  Click here for dates, times, and ticket information.

 

A Piece of My Heart - Ivoryton Playhouse

War is hell.  And since the Vietnam War, it has been brought into our homes via the airwaves – the death, destruction, and, occasionally, lighter moments.   Today, the impact of what seems like daily reports from around the world, while not dulling our senses, has numbed our attitudes and impressions of conflicts.  This is the issue with the well-acted and directed play, A Piece of My Heart, at the Ivoryton Playhouse.  Playwright Shirley Lauro’s 1991 work (based on interviews she conducted with 26 women who served in the Vietnam War in 1986) feels dated, like watching an old newsreel.  This is not to negate their sacrifices and horrific conditions they faced in Southeast Asia or their troubles acclimating back into society.  However, most of the time, I was just not too engaged with the scenes that unfolded on stage.

 

The cast of A Piece of My Heart.  Photo by Jonathan Steele.

Lauro has synthesized the conversations with her subjects into the creation of six characters, mostly young women nurses who volunteered for their assignments thinking of glamour and travel.  The beginning of Act I relates their varied backstories and then, when they arrive in Vietnam, the harrowing realism of war.  Lauro pulls no punches with graphic descriptions of life during wartime, the medical facilities, operating room, and post-op recoveries.  Every so often she leavens the nightmarish conditions with levity, mostly singing, led by entertainer Mary Jo.  Act II brings forth their lives stateside as all six women seek normalcy as they reenter society. 

 

Members of the cast of A Piece of My Heart.  Photo by Jonathan Steele.

Director Jacqui Hubbard keeps the action and actresses in constant movement on Kim Zhou’s appropriately designed minimalistic set that includes platforms, ramps, pieces of corrugated metal, and chain-link.  She incorporates Qier Luo’s fitting lighting design and Rhian Franchebois’ punctuating sound effects of gunfire, explosions, and approaching helicopters.  The show unfolds as ever-changing tableaux under Hubbard’s adept guidance, allowing each story a chance to breathe.  She deftly blends in music from the 60’s and 70’s, which adds to the backdrop of the time period.  The show would have more impact if condensed into a single Act.  Some scenes run too long, such as the Act II subplot of a daughter suffering from Agent Orange.

 

Oliva Fenton, Alicia Kaori, and Autumn Eliza Sheffy in A Piece of My Heart.  Photo by Jonathan Steele.

The strength of A Piece of My Heart is the ensemble of actresses (and one sole actor) that bring to life the accounts of the women who served their country.  Too often their stories were pushed to the side.  But the performers - Mandy Evans, Olivia Fenton, Angela Hall, Alicia Kaori, Allie Seidbold, Autumn Eliza Sheffy, and Galen Donovan, who plays an assortment of the male roles in the show – wonderfully bring the angst, horrors, and resilience of the women to the fore.  For whatever shortcomings of the play, the actresses bring an emotional grist that animates the assorted stories. 

 

Alicia Kaori, Galen Donovan, and Oliva Fenton in A Piece of My Heart.  Photo by Jonathan Steele.

A Piece of My Heart, playing at the Ivoryton Playhouse through October 25.  Click here for dates, times, and ticket information.

A Lesson From Aloes - HartBeat Ensemble

A Lesson from Aloes, by South African playwright Athol Fugard, is being given a noteworthy production by HartBeat Ensemble, playing at the Austin Arts Center on the Trinity College campus. 

 

Brian Jennings, Rebecka Jones, and Godfrey L. Simmons in A Lesson From Aloes.  Photo by Nick Caito.

 

The play, written in 1978, during the heightened conflict of the apartheid regime in the country, takes place in 1963.  We learn that Piet (Brian Jennings), an Afrikaner and former bus driver, has, years earlier,  left his position and taken up the cause of racial injustice with Steve (Godfrey L. Simmons Jr.), a Black South African and leader of the resistance.  In the process, the two have become fast friends.  But the years have not been kind.  Steve has just been released from jail for his actions, and Piet’s wife, Gladys (Rebecka Jones), is on the verge of another mental breakdown after previously being institutionalized.  Piet is alone with his aloe plants after being shunned by friends and colleagues on suspicion of being the police informer who sent his friend to prison.

 

Brian Jennings, Rebecka Jones, and Godfrey L. Simmons in A Lesson From Aloes.  Photo by Nick Caito.

Act I has Piet and Gladys in preparation for a farewell meal for Steve and his family, as the one-time activist is being forced to leave for England.  We learn about the lives Piet and Gladys share, and the emotional turmoil they have experienced in the police state.  In Act II, Steve arrives…alone.  There is a mistrust in the air as he suspects Piet of being the traitor.  In bitter, highly charged conversations, the politics of freedom, loyalty, and friendship are dissected and, in the end, obliterated.

 

 

Godfrey L. Simmons in A Lesson From Aloes.  Photo by Nick Caito.

 

Fugard, who knew firsthand the devastating impact of apartheid on his people, slowly builds the tension of the play from playful banter to the shattering finale.  There is a passionate emotional quality that weaves its way throughout the production.  While the encounters between characters can be riveting, some portions of the show, primarily in Act I, could have been shortened to make the play leaner and even more captivating.

 

Brian Jennings in A Lesson From Aloes.  Photo by Nick Caito.

Director Vernice Miller allows the action to unfold at an unhurried pace, letting Fugard’s dialogue be the guide.  There are many instances of silence and patience, which heighten the verbal sparring between husband and wife, and the two friends. 

 

Rebecka Jones and Brian Jennings in A Lesson From Aloes.  Photo by Nick Caito.

The three seasoned performers are superb, fully realizing their characters’ strengths and weaknesses.  Brian Jennings imbues Piet with an inner fortitude and an outward effusiveness that belies his private struggles.  The actor is at his best when just standing, staring, and allowing the accusations to pelt him.  Like the aloe plant in the title of the play, he is hardy sole even in such a hostile environment.  Rebecka Jones effectively infuses the character of Gladys with a somber, anxiety-ridden dread that encapsulates the mistrust and fright from a political state.  As with Jennings, her silent terrors speak volumes.  Godfrey L. Simmons Jr., the Artistic Director of HartBeat Ensemble, but also an accomplished actor who has recently graced the stages of Theaterworks Hartford and Hartford Stage, is like a cornered large cat waiting for the opportunity to strike.  He prowls the stage, eyes searching for potential dangers as he confronts Piet and is verbally goaded by Gladys.  Simmons doesn’t just appear in Act II.  He envelopes it.

A Lesson From Aloes, playing at the Austin Arts Center on the Trinity College campus through October 17.  Click here for dates, times, and ticket information.

The Happiest Man on Earth - Playhouse on Park

With the Holocaust fading into history, and denier’s falsehoods and fabrications continuing to take hold, The Happiest Man on Earth is a show that needs to be seen.  Based on the memoir of Holocaust survivor Eddie Jaku, Playwright Mark St. Germain has fashioned a one-man play that is at times harrowing and gripping.  But throughout Jaku’s remarkable account of survival and resilience, there is a humanity that weaves its way throughout his story.

Robert Resnikoff in The Happiest Man on Earth.  Photo by Meredith Longo.

The play begins as the actor Robert Resnikoff (Jaku) welcomes the audience as his new friends.  He asks if he can practice a presentation he will be making at his son’s synagogue the following day on the Holocaust.  That is the catalyst for a summary of his life, beginning as a young Jewish boy in Leipzig, Germany.  From there, with the Nazi Party taking hold of Germany, Jaku and his parents’ lives are forever changed.  The events of his life, from 1939 to 1945, include stints in the Buchenwald and Auschwitz concentration campus, captivating tales of heroism, life-saving escapes, friendship, and love.  They are at times breath-taking in detail and scope.  As with Jaku’s memoir, St. Germain doesn’t pull his punches as the memoirist relates his story.  Sometimes you wince at the atrocities inflicted upon him.

Robert Resnikoff in The Happiest Man on Earth.  Photo by Meredith Longo.

The Happiest Man on Earth works as compelling drama due to the outstanding performance of Robert Resnikoff.  Working in front of Scenic Designer Chris Ostrom’s unassuming, deeply rich, wood-paneled set, the actor, whose comportment would not be out of place at a Temple Brotherhood brunch, comes across as a natural born storyteller.  He eloquently and movingly conveys the angst, horror, and desperation his character faced in wartime Europe.  Throughout the production, Resnikoff also nimbly switches his vocal tone and facial expressions to portray a number of different characters during the timeframe of the show.

Robert Resnikoff in The Happiest Man on Earth.  Photo by Meredith Longo.

The Director Sasha Bratt has molded St. Germain’s script into a production that has drama and a touch of humor.  These are traits the playwright has brought to his other works that have graced Connecticut stages (Freud's Last Session and Becoming Dr. Ruth).  Bratt, incorporating Chris Ostrom’s well-appointed Lighting Designer, and Xi Lin’s opportune Sound Design, brings a sensitivity and straightforwardness that compels audience members to listen and be engrossed.  He brings movement into the show – Resnikoff is constantly prowling the stage, sometimes engaging with the audience – which prevents the action from becoming too static.

 

The Happiest Man on Earth, playing at Playhouse on Park through October 18.  Click here for dates, times, and ticket information.

The Snow Goose - Goodspeed Opera House

The musical The Snow Goose, receiving its world-premiere at the Goodspeed Opera House, is based on the beloved 1940 novella of the same name.  It is an intimate tale of friendship and the cyclical nature of life.

The cast of The Snow Goose.  Photo by Diane Soboelwski.

In the book, Philip, an artist, lives in an abandoned lighthouse, afraid to interact with others because of his disability.  He is befriended by a local girl, Fritha, who brings a wounded snow goose to him to nurse back to health.  Once the snow goose has healed, she returns each year to be at the side of Philip and Fritha.  At the end of the story, Philip volunteers his boat to be part of the famous Dunkirk evacuation of British troops during WW II, risking his life for others and, in the process, saving numerous lives.

Ashlyn Maddox and Eric Graise in The Snow Goose.  Photo by Diane Soboelwski.

The Goodspeed production has enlarged this simple tale, adding many new characters and plot points not found in the book.  The resulting, expanded musical comes across as overstuffed with side plots, and characters not fully developed.  The results are mostly unsatisfying and ends up diluting the central themes of the book.

 

The show begins with The Bard, a troubadour (a new character), acting as a type of narrator, setting the scene for what will occur.  Fritha, who now has three friends – Wilf, Clara, and Farley (all new characters) – gets separated while exploring the marshes of Essex, England.  Fritha finds a wounded snow goose and brings it to the lighthouse where, according to townsfolk, “the monster” resides.  There resides Philip, a double amputee, who grudgingly agrees to nurse the bird.  This begins a tentative, then lasting friendship between the two as the snow goose returns each year during her migratory journey. 

Matthew Davies, Leah Hofmann, Kiersten Kelly and the cast of The Snow Goose.  Photo by Diane Soboelwski.

In between the yearly reunions, trouble brews for Fritha as her aunt (new character), who has raised her since she was a child, forbids the young girl from seeing Philip.  Wilf, her would-be boyfriend, also disallows her from visiting the lighthouse.  Ignoring their edicts, Fritha clandestinely continues her rendezvouses.  Fritha urges Philip to come to town to show the towns folk he is not a monster, but when he arrives he is verbally and physically assaulted because he is different.  Later, when boatmen are recruited to help save soldiers at Dunkirk, Philp pushes aside the hate and prejudice heaped upon him to volunteer, sacrificing his life in the process.

Ashlyn Maddox in The Snow Goose.  Photo by Diane Soboelwski.

 

The central issue with the book by Scott Gilmour and Claire McKenzie is the inclusion of so much additional material that blunts the unadorned earnestness of the source material.  Storylines are not fully fleshed out, and characters are not completely developed.  There is now a large ensemble, with uneven choreographic flourishes by Misha Shields, filling the stage.  Emmie Finckel’s Scenic Design are at its best when the staging is minimal.  Philip’s sailboat is especially well-done.

 

The strength of the Snow Goose is the performance of Eric Graise as Philip and the puppeteers manipulating the snow goose.  Graise, a double amputee, adds a high degree of realism to the Goodspeed stage.  He effortlessly exudes strength, independence, and melancholy in his role.    The snow goose has been designed by Nicholas Mahon and manipulated, primarily by Leah Hofmann.  The puppet comes alive within the practiced arms of his handlers, exuding playfulness, joy, and fear.

Ally Bonino and the cast of The Snow Goose.  Photo by Diane Soboelwski.

 

Ashlyn Maddox’s Fritha is at her best as a young lass, struggling with her own feelings and the decisions she wants to make.  The actress is less successful as she ages, a full ten years by the musical’s conclusion.  While a forceful presence on stage as Harper, Fritha’s aunt, Ally Bonino is not given enough of a backstory to establish her character beyond a nagging relative.  Out of the new characters, Charlie Webb’s Wilf receives significant stage time.  He brings youthful energy, timid emotions, and a degree of intimidation to his portrayal.

 

The score by Scott Gilmour and Claire McKenzie can be unabashedly exuberant and reflective.  There are some Broadway styled songs, but the majority of the numbers are tinged with the folk music of the area.

 

Eric Graise and Ashlyn Maddox in The Snow Goose.  Photo by Diane Soboelwski.

Director Marshall Pailet, who helmed the outstanding musical Private Jones at the Norma Terris Theatre a few seasons ago, works hard attempting to make all the diverse elements of the show coalesce into an entertaining whole.    He partially succeeds, with the more intimate scenes involving Philip, Fritha, and, to some extent, the snow goose – as a prime example.

 

The Snow Goose, playing at the Goodspeed Opera House through October 18.  Click here for dates, times, and ticket information.