By Alex Rendon
By Monica McGivern
By Michele Eve Sandberg
By Alex Rendon
By Monica McGivern
By Ian Witlen
By Christina Mendenhall
By Michele Eve Sandberg
This year's edition features the works of 17 playwrights in two programs, which can be taken in separately or together, with a catered box meal in the interval. The writing ranges from sharp satire to serious drama to romantic comedy; the writers range from well-known veterans like Christopher Durang and Steven Dietz to up-and-comers from our area and across the country. That's all more than enough to recommend City Shorts. But add an ensemble of nine of South Florida's most versatile actors, eight talented directors, and a resourceful design team of six and the happy result is a showcase for the entire South Florida theatrical community.
The logistics of producing such an event are mind-boggling. Rehearsals must be a scheduling nightmare -- a company of nine actors may not seem like all that much, but this company appears in 21 plays directed by eight directors. We're talking 63 speaking roles (plus an array of walk-ons) and characters who must be costumed, directed, and propped. All 21 playlets must be lighted -- lighting designer John Hall has a separate plot for each one. Each play has a specific set of requirements: The floor of Rich Simone's nifty unit set -- a leafy tropical thrust stage backed by sliding translucent panels -- is peppered with dozens of colored tape marks -- every rolling set piece, every piece of furniture has its own placement. The myriad set changes, each a complex ballet of precision backed by a terrific sampling of rock 'n' roll tunes from sound designer Steve Shapiro, comprise a show in themselves. The acting company faces formidable character challenges -- each role must be researched, developed, thought through. It doesn't matter how long each play is; if the character's every moment on stage isn't completely alive, the play falls flat. It's tough enough to come up with one plausible characterization, but this ensemble must do so for six to eight roles apiece.
The range of dramatic material varies widely in tone, style, and impact. Some "plays" are merely brief monologues or sketches, what City Theatre calls "short hors d'oeuvres." Most of these are of necessity mere monologues, but Lauren Feldman's inspired "Monday in C Minor" shows what can be done in two minutes, making a witty connection between the morning rush to work and Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. Other offerings are fully realized dramas, with complete characters and developed story lines, albeit in compressed time frames. In program A, the standout is a playlet from local writer Robert Linfors, "Does Jesus Drum?" In the American South at the beginning of the Civil War, a stern mother (Elizabeth Dimon) tries to dissuade her son from joining the Confederate Army. A parent's anguish and the allure of war have obvious contemporary parallels, and Dimon's performance, under Des Gallant's careful direction, is riveting. Another standout is Christopher Durang's "DMV Tyrant," wherein a motorist (Steve Trovillian) is subjected to psychological torture from a smug bureaucrat (Dimon). Suzanne Bradbeer's "Bethlehem, PA" has to do with an ordinary man (Gregg Weiner) who's about to bury his beloved pet in his backyard only to be interrupted by his new neighbor (Camille Carida, a Shorts newcomer with impressive range), a wacky modern dancer and ex-stripper with an agenda of her own. Director Barbara Lowery nicely balances Weiner's beat-by-beat naturalism with Carida's off-the-wall comedy.
Program B offers material with more political substance. In Rich Orloff's "The Right Sensation," a bumbling, would-be lover (Dave Corey) doesn't know what to do when his intended paramour (Angie Radosh) confides that her recent mastectomy has made her shy and insecure. The actors, under Kim St. Leon's nuanced direction, somehow manage to be both hilarious and poignant without tipping into maudlin sentimentality.
Some offerings, however short, feel like full-blown dramas. Lucinda McDermott's "Bricks" is one of these. In it, a 15-year-old orphan girl (Lauren Feldman) must not only cope with the death of her guardian grandmother but also her retarded brother (Brandon Morris), who seems unable to accept the death. Gail Garrisan's simple staging, at a kitchen table, evokes a complete family drama that might merit development into a full-length play. Morris, who makes his third consecutive appearance with City Shorts, shows an impressive emotional range and depth here. A similar richness can be found in "A Room Full of Lovely," another Lowery staging, in which a troubled artist (the resourceful Joe Kimble) has a fateful meeting in a diner with his equally troubled sister (Carrida). Other offerings are decidedly hit-and-miss, though if one short fails to please, the next arrives in short order.
This year's version of City Shorts maintains the company's signature quick, upbeat pace and breezy style, but it adds a political edge. A number of hot-button issues are touched upon: gay marriage, same-sex kissing, masturbation, and, with the program B's "A Speedy and Public Trial," a biting, Kafkaesque critique of the Bush administration's Patriot Act. There's nothing here you couldn't find on network television; the play selection limns a cultural geography that's white, upscale, gay-friendly, and left-of-center. That City's writers are individually raising such issues might be meritorious, but overall, there's something absent here, something that's missing in virtually every South Florida theater -- a willingness to honestly give voice to and examine opposing sociopolitical views. Despite the obvious standoff in this deeply divided society, most arts professionals doggedly pursue a proscriptive liberal-left vision instead offering a forum for opposing views that may challenge conventional thinking and provoke an exchange of ideas. More on this subject in a future column.