by Michael Meigs
Published on April 13, 2009
'Age of Arousal' is a strange, febrile comedy. It's like Dickens on drugs, if Dickens were to write about a closed circle of odd women.
Age of Arousal is a strange, febrile comedy. It's like Dickens on drugs, if Dickens were to write about a closed circle of odd women.These women are "odd" both in the numerical meaning of "not in a pair" and in the metaphorical meaning of "singular" or "remarkable." They are not "unique," because playwright Linda Griffiths intends them to represent for us the plight of women in late 19th century England, where by demographic quirk women outnumbered …
by Michael Meigs
Published on April 11, 2009
We see Straus's mind at work, his hopes invested in the witches' equivocal predictions. His berating of messengers is dramatic, effective business. His soliloquies late in the play are measured, beaten-down but defiant. His Macbeth reaches grim awareness.
One of the challenges of Macbeth is that we all know the text. Not by heart but, thanks to the hard work of generations of English teachers, just about anyone who is sitting in the theatre when the lights go down will have the elements of the plot.That's good, and familiar, and comforting. The downside of that familiarity is that the actors don't fear losing us. They have a text to deliver, and they make sure that …
by Michael Meigs
Published on April 07, 2009
Will they or won't they? And what will be the consequences? The answers to those two questions aren't really important, but they justify the ensuing nonsense.
Billy Alexander is beleaguered and bemused throughout this cheery piece of Canadian froth, now playing at the Gaslight Baker Theatre in Lockhart.As the stay-at-home writer Ross Cameron, he's a Mr. Mom surrounded by women: his wife the successful industrial designer, the friendly home care nurse Miss Bricker from the Canadian public health service, and his flighty mother-in-law Beattie, still a dish after all these years. Oh, and his infant daughter, offstage. We never see her …
by Michael Meigs
Published on April 06, 2009
Though it has a quick-step rhythm and plenty of incident, this common ground has little depth. The plot is about two inches deep, like sparse topsoil in the worst farmlands of Texas.
An impressive cast brought San Antonio playwright Antoinette Winstead's Common Ground to the Boyd Vance theatre this past weekend, with the sponsorship of the Pro Arts Collective. LeVan Owens stands tall at the center of the piece, in the character of James Parker, a powerfully built man stiff legged from a rodeo accident long ago. He's a dutiful son enduring a deep, mute resentment.Winstead sets the piece at a Christmas sometime in the early 70s, starting the …
by Michael Meigs
Published on April 05, 2009
A good time was had by all. Are any longer scripts brewing over there? As Mickey Rooney used to say to Judy Garland, "Say, kids, let's put on a show!"
The gathering for Time Steps at the Blue Theatre last Thursday felt like skit night at the close of summer camp. Friendly excitement, lots of young adults, and a program based on games, brainstorming and collaborative action, intended to amuse and astound us over the course of a short evening. The Blue Theatre itself, tucked away behind the Goodwill warehouses in East Austin, is a found venue of sorts, redolent of much earnest make believe.Austin Scriptworks stirred …
by Michael Meigs
Published on April 03, 2009
Last year the Austin Chronicle called Zell Miller III "an incendiary device waiting to go off." You can certainly see the flame in the man, but when he talks about becoming a father it burns with a completely different light.
A review last year in the Austin Chronicle called Zell Miller III "an incendiary device waiting to go off." You can certainly see the flame in the man, but when he talks about becoming a father it burns with a completely different light.Becoming a parent is a life-changing event and, again and again, a mind-blowing one. I remember clearly the first session of the birthing class, and the electric zap! that went through me when the instructor turned to …