The play opens in the kitchen and stays there for almost the entirety of the show. (Photos: Sean Moore)
It’s difficult to imagine a more Memphis-centric theater outing than the opening night of The Circuit Playhouse’s production of The Hot Wing King — written by Memphis native Katori Hall, performed by a cast of six Memphis residents, set in Memphis, and attended by none other than the mayor of Memphis.
If the audience’s response is anything to go by, this show’s success could be described not by a traditional two thumbs-up, but rather by a rapid-fire volley of finger snaps. The Hot Wing King serves up not only an often-hilarious look at the bonds and squabbles of a found family, but also a refreshing, unapologetic depiction of gay Black men comfortably presenting a full range of everything non-toxic masculinity can be.
This play has a bit of a sitcom-like feel to it, right down to Andrew Mannion’s scene design of a slightly upscale lived-in Memphis house. The play opens in the kitchen and we stay there for almost the entirety of the show, but you’ll find no complaints here as the set dressing was beautifully homey.
The Hot Wing King follows Cordell, a St. Louis native who recently relocated to Memphis to move in with his boyfriend, Dwayne. Their cohabitation seems like it’s off to a rocky start despite their obvious affection and deep feeling for one another. Cordell, who is currently looking for a job, seems to be rubbed the wrong way by the idea of being supported by another person. Thus, he pours himself obsessively into his hobby, trying to win the annual Memphis “Hot Wang Festival.” Much of the play’s two-and-a-half-hour runtime is taken up with the intricacies of the cooking, prepping, marinating, etc. of the wings by the couple and their two close friends, but the real meat in this production lies in the struggle of the characters’ internal battles of guilt and accountability, and of the external conflicts that subsequently stem from within.
One such major conflict arises when Dwayne’s nephew EJ and EJ’s father TJ make unexpected appearances in the middle of the festival prep. Sixteen-year-old EJ is in need of a place to stay, and as his mother, Dwayne’s sister, died after being restrained by police (police that Dwayne had called for a welfare check) almost exactly two years ago, it’s understandable why Dwayne wants to take EJ in. At least, it’s understandable to the audience. Cordell, on the other hand, is still struggling with his discordant relationship with his own adult children, who don’t know that he divorced their mother in order to pursue a relationship with Dwayne.
The situation is messy, yet it has an air of familiarity to it that most audience members will probably be able to relate to. Anyone who has been through great loss will understand that though everyday events and emotions are a necessity for navigating daily life, the pain is never too far away. While the dialogue occasionally drifts into somewhat unrealistically poetic expressions of this sort of grief and pain, the cast carries it off well. The jump between comedic hijinks and somber self-reflection doesn’t feel quite as stark as it could, when the actors are performing with such open honesty.
What makes this play truly special and important is the matter-of-fact presentation of queer Black men who are completely at ease with their sexuality. As a straight white woman, I can only imagine what it would mean to see that kind of representation onstage to a person struggling with their own sexual identity. What I especially appreciated was Katori Hall’s method of revealing the characters’ struggles after we had been introduced to their confidence. Again, I have only imagination and empathy to go off of here, but I think seeing these characters being their full authentic selves would be inspiring to young queer people; to see that they, too, overcame struggles to get to that point could only be incredibly validating.
When it comes to serving up quality theater, The Hot Wing King has everything to offer: heart, saucy exchanges, slapstick comedy, and even redemption.
Michael Detroit, executive producer at Playhouse on the Square. (Photo: Carla McDonald)
Memphis’ annual Ostrander Awards honor the season’s best local theatrical productions.
Mostly.
But there is one category that gives a standing ovation to someone who has had an ongoing, yearslong impact on the theater scene.
The Eugart Yerian Award for Lifetime Achievement has put the spotlight on these singular people since 1984, and this year, the distinction will go to Michael Detroit, executive producer at Playhouse on the Square, a professional resident theater company.
Detroit started at Playhouse when he came to Memphis in 1989. And he’s done it all: actor (stage, film, television, commercials), director, singer, costumer, choreographer, professor, creator of the Unified Professional Theatre Auditions (UPTA), civic activist, and more.
When Detroit took over at Playhouse from founder Jackie Nichols in 2018, he was more than ready, having been associate producer since 1998. As executive producer, he manages $15 million in capital assets, a $3.3 million annual budget, an endowment of more than $7 million, and 40 full- and part-time employees, including hundreds of contract actors, designers, and directors.
Being ready to take over also helped when the global pandemic hit, forcing arts organizations to rethink how to keep creating — and delivering — art. Detroit and Whitney Jo, managing director at Playhouse, were able to ensure that no staff or company member was laid off because of the pandemic. Further, they devised ways of creating online content to sustain interest and involvement.
Detroit will receive the award at the Ostranders ceremonies on August 26th at the Orpheum.
The Memphis Flyer asked Detroit about the highlights of his 35 years in Memphis.
Memphis Flyer: Tell us about your journey since you came to Memphis in 1989.
Michael Detroit: I’ve been very fortunate that I’ve been able to make a living in the arts, which is hard for anybody that goes into the arts. For me, it was a history of piecemealing things together — doing theater, doing video gigs, doing voiceovers, doing print work, and teaching and all the things you did to make a living as a younger artist. And I’ve been able to stay with it and make a living out of it. With that kind of vision in mind, my goal since I became executive producer was to strengthen our ability to have artists have the ability to make a living in Memphis — things like salaries and working conditions and hourly work weeks and all of those things, which is a challenge in any artistic format for sure.
What are some of the initiatives behind your vision?
It goes back to things like UPTA, where we’ve got 1,100 people coming in over four days with 85-plus companies and 850 actors all looking for work that pays across the country. We’re also very committed to partnering with our friends at the Greater Memphis Chamber. Playhouse belongs to seven different chambers and I wanted to make sure that we were doing that so that we were civically engaged, not just an artistic company, but as a small business in Memphis. And that creates an awareness of employees, but just like the big folks out there, like FedEx and IP and Nike and AutoZone, we want to attract and retain the talent that we have here as actors and designers and technicians and admin folks.
You have to have material that they want to work with and work on, but you’ve got to pay them a salary that’s of value to them. And that’s what UPTA was created for, to help folks find work, and certainly to help Playhouse find talent. Coming out of that too, making sure that what we’re bringing to the table is a lot more newer work, perhaps than we had done in the past, and certainly a greater diversity of work than we have been doing in the last, let’s say, couple of decades. So, we’re getting back to our roots in terms of types of shows we’re doing.
You like to see where there’s a need and then take steps to meet it, right?
Yes, things like the Queer Youth Theater Program. We chose to do it, recognizing that as something that’s important for our community, we’ve been able to do that and do it proudly, do it unabashedly. It’s easy to identify issues. It’s challenging to find the right materials to put in front of folks that help push that needle in one direction or the other that reflects that diversity of our community. So yeah, we’re going to do the family shows because that’s part of our community, but then we’re going to do shows that talk about the politics that we’re dealing with right now.
I’ve also been helping theatrical licensing companies realize that Playhouse on the Square in Memphis is a treasure to be had because we can produce things here in the Mid-South that these licensing companies, quite frankly, can’t really license anywhere else. And they realize quickly when we produce things that perhaps they can be produced in other places.
You were instrumental in organizing last year’s arts-centered mayoral forum. How did that go?
We worked with various other folks through the Memphis Cultural Coalition who had strong contacts into the various mayoral candidates committees. We got four of them here at Playhouse to talk to a full house of people, and it was specifically geared towards the arts. It’s something, as far as I know, that had never happened before, and it was extremely successful. We had four candidates committing to creating something or engaging the arts as a way for Memphis to move forward. We see that now in Mayor Paul Young’s messaging. We had a chamber event at the Memphis Botanic Garden last week, and he talked about it there, and he’s talking about it without being fed a line about it. He’s making it part of his platform. If you feed the arts, you feed business. Without a strong professional arts component, especially in a city, you become a tier-two city. And we want to be a tier-one city. It’s important to keep those organizations vital and thriving.
Playhouse’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is sweet, uplifting, and, most importantly, fun. (Photo: Sean Moore)
Having read Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory many times growing up and having seen both the 1971 and 2005 movie adaptations, I thought I knew exactly what to expect walking into Playhouse on the Square’s opening night of the stage musical. However, I’m happy to say that I was entirely mistaken. The production, directed by Dave Landis, told a familiar story in a way I had never seen before, and the entire show was — appropriately — a sublime display of eye candy.
Though the onstage version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory shares quite a few similarities with the 1971 film Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, such as several of the same musical numbers, there are also a few differences. For one thing, this play takes place in a contemporary setting, with many references of modern relevance — Violet Beauregarde’s Instagram following, as one example. These nods to a present-day timeline help make the humor in the musical more accessible to a 2024 audience, and much of that humor is surprisingly dark, though in my opinion all the more funny for it.
The story of this musical is the same one most people have grown up knowing: Plucky daydreamer Charlie Bucket, played on opening night by McCager Carver, wins one of five golden tickets to gain entry to the Wonka Chocolate factory, a place that’s been operating behind mysteriously closed gates for decades by the reclusive genius Willy Wonka. Carver, in his Playhouse debut, absolutely shone as young Charlie Bucket, bringing a mischievous and carefree energy to the character while maintaining what the audience must know about Charlie from the get-go and never question: He is good.
Photo: Sean Moore
As in the ’70s film version, Mr. Bucket is deceased, meaning Mrs. Bucket is a single mother working alone to maintain a household of five dependents, if we’re including the four immobilized grandparents. Amy Polumbo Nabors’ interpretation of the character was slightly different from what I’ve come to expect from the onscreen versions of Mrs. Bucket, less overtly nurturing and more anxious, which makes perfect sense given her circumstances. Still, one moment that I thought was extremely touching took place once the optimistic Charlie starts to lose hope after failing to find a golden ticket in his annual birthday chocolate bar. It’s his seemingly more cynical mother who makes a wish for his dream to come true — a wish that of course comes to fruition. A mother’s love isn’t really of thematic importance in this show, yet it’s nonetheless a hidden linchpin to the plot if you’re paying attention.
Without question, my favorite section of this musical was the introduction of the golden ticket winners. Each one came with their own musical number, and each one was somehow even funnier than the last. A surprising standout was Brooke Papritz as Mrs. Teavee, which would never have been a character I would have thought warranted much attention. Papritz, however, managed to make Mike Teavee’s introduction just as entertaining with an almost entirely solo performance as the other kids’ intros were with all the glitz and glamor an onstage musical has to offer.
The character of Willy Wonka has a duality in this musical, as he disguises himself as a mere chocolate shop owner during the first half of the show. Jimmy Rustenhaven’s Wonka in act one is somewhat quiet and unassuming, though by act two we are introduced to someone who doesn’t seem particularly bothered by occasionally straying over the line that separates eccentric, creative genius from rich, outlandish asshole. Watching that transformation take place was a highlight of the show.
For a musical about chocolate and candy, I expected the production to be visually decadent, an expectation that was met and surpassed. Lindsay Schmeling’s costume design was spectacular to look at, with a variety of textures, colors, sequins, and accessories constantly on display. The reporter Cherry Sundae? Style icon. The choreography of the ensemble was also highly entertaining, at times like watching a delightfully riotous fever dream (I’m thinking particularly of the squirrel ballet that delivers Veruca Salt’s comeuppance).
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory has much to offer to Memphis audiences: It’s sweet, uplifting, and, more than anything, fun.
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory runs at Playhouse on the Square through February 18th.
The Indie Memphis showing of The Taste of Things will be followed by an actual food tasting.
Moviegoers often wish they could be eating what the characters are eating in certain scenes in a film. Think of the famous dinner scene in Tom Jones. Or everything edible in Julie & Julia, the movie about chef Julia Child. And then, of course, there’s that spaghetti in Walt Disney’s animated classic, Lady and the Tramp.
Well, Dan Kopera is making that a reality. He will serve some of the cuisine featured in The Taste of Things following the 11:30 a.m. movie showing, which will be Saturday, October 28th at Playhouse on the Square. Those who bought tickets to the 2023 movie, directed by Tran Anh Hung ,will then walk to the old Pantà restaurant at 2146 Monroe Avenue for Kopera’s take on some of the dishes in the film.
Chef Dan Kopera (Credit: Michael Donahue)
Describing the movie, Kopera, 49, a chef at The Second Line, says, “It’s a romantic relationship between the chef and his cook, and it all revolves around food. There’s so much food in the movie. It’s primarily French food. It does take place in France in the 19th century.
“They sent me a screening line. I enjoyed it. It’s not a movie I would have sought out for myself. It’s not my style. But it was very good.”
Then, he says, “I copied a few things from the movie that were interesting to me.
“I spent a couple of hours the next day just brainstorming and doing some research. Which then I took to chef Kelly English [owner of The Second Line] and consulted with him to get his thoughts on it. He added his opinions and that’s how we came up with these four items.”
Some dishes in the film were unfamiliar to Kopera. But, he says, “A couple of things from the movie I could do. Baked Alaska was one. It’s the only dessert featured in the movie.”
Making Baked Alaska is “much easier to make in modern days than it was in the 19th century when it was invented.”
Back then, making the dessert “was kind of an all-day-long process.
“For one, we have refrigeration. And they had to use ice chests to make the ice cream. And, also we have modern equipment. The blow torch to cook the outside of the meringue. Rather than what they did, which was light brandy on fire and roll it over it to cook the outside. Meringue protects the ice cream from melting.”
He’s also doing chicken vol-au-vent. “They did a very large version of this. It’s a puff pastry filled with various things. I’m doing a chicken dish with it. It’s one of those things you can fill with anything. Almost a cream puff kind of thing. I’m going to be doing little mini vol-au-vents for everyone to try.”
Kopera will make croque monsieur dip with crostini. “The original dish is a sandwich. A grilled ham and cheese. I’m taking it to another level. I’m French toasting it.”
And, finally, he will be serving ratatouille skewers. “It’s eggplant, zucchini, tomato, peppers — taking the basic ingredients of ratatouille, which is usually baked in a sort of casserole — and I’m making that into hand-held bite-sized skewers.”
Like popcorn, everything Kopera is serving will be finger food. “These are little tastes, so people can get the taste of the movie and the taste of France.”
For more information on The Taste of Things showing and tasting, go here.
Playhouse’s production of The Prom overcomes a lackluster script. (Photo: Sean Moore)
At the end of the soliloquy in act 2 scene 2 of Hamlet, the audience is offered the line, “The play’s the thing,” a phrase with layered meaning according to most Shakespeare devotees. In examining Playhouse on the Square’s production of the musical The Prom, I need to make a clear distinction between the play, which I mostly didn’t care for, and the performance, which I mostly enjoyed.
The Prom takes place for the most part in the small town of Edgewater, Indiana, where high school student Emma Nolan is banned from bringing her girlfriend to prom. The musical opens on four Broadway stars lamenting their bad press — they are (correctly) lambasted for being narcissists — and deciding their only possible recourse to regain some good PR is to find a cause to champion and become activists. They stumble upon Nolan’s story online, hitch a ride on a touring Godspell cast bus, and make their way to Edgewater. In their misguided attempt to leech onto Nolan’s hardship, the four actors end up finding their long-latent humanity.
I can’t say I entirely disliked the show, as there were some moments, such as the PTA scene in act 1 and the song “Barry Is Going to Prom” in act 2, that were scripted and executed incredibly well. My number one complaint with this musical is that, thematically, I feel it missed the mark. The conflict of The Prom centers around intolerance, which is such a deep, pervasive problem in our society that overcoming it with a song or simple conversation, as happens in The Prom, seems like a slap in the face. The stakes are too low.
If the world portrayed in the musical was meant to be a rich idealistic universe in which singing to a group of teenagers actually could change minds and reverse years of indoctrinated hate, then maybe I wouldn’t have been so irked. But it’s obviously meant to take place in our real, actual world. It’s as if the playwrights are saying, “If only you would do this simple thing, the world will be changed! Hooray!” It came off as preachy, which is ironic given that the script pulls no punches in criticizing small-town religious culture. I’m not suggesting that the play’s central theme of fighting against intolerance is distasteful; if anything, I’m disappointed to see intolerance portrayed as something so easily overcome. Watching a play that celebrates the LGBTQ community so unabashedly was a joy — until the play suggested, more than once, that people can and will change their minds if we can just sing a song heartfelt enough.
While I had qualms with the source material, the cast made the show worth watching. Annie Freres in particular was a monumental presence on the stage as Dee Dee Allen, the biggest diva of the Broadway stars in TheProm. Her powerhouse vocals could bring the house down in any musical, and she certainly knows how to wield them. Whitney Branan’s lithe, sensual materialization of Angie Dickinson was also a standout of the production.
Most of TheProm’s appeal lies in the over-the-top classic big Broadway musical numbers — “Barry is Going to Prom” being my favorite — but there were a few intimate moments that brought the show back down to Earth. Arielle Mitchell’s rendition of “Alyssa Greene” came across as raw and utterly genuine, saving that character from being mishandled by the playwrights as simply a caricature of a typical popular high schooler. Jonathan Christian as Barry Glickman and Katy Cotten as Emma Nolan also achieved a real intimacy not often seen onstage, as it was one not of romantic overtones, but of found family and friendship transcending age and circumstance. Their makeover scene together was the moment in the production that seemed the most real to me, Christian and Cotten having succeeded in creating a personal bond between their characters.
Though TheProm suffered from a starry-eyed vision of the redemptive power of a musical number, Playhouse’s production of it overcame the hurdles of the script itself. There’s something hopeful in the realization that — to paraphrase Shakespeare for a second time in this column — if all the world’s a stage, the players can sometimes rise above a lackluster script.
The Prom runs at Playhouse on the Square through September 17th.
Nathan McHenry as Anatole and Katy Cotten as Natasha (Photo: D’angelo Connell Photography)
The week before I saw Playhouse on the Square’s regional debut of Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812, I was asked what the play was about. I wasn’t quite sure, having deliberately avoided finding out beforehand, as is sometimes my practice when seeing a show I’m unfamiliar with. This continued until the morning I was to attend, when a coworker read aloud a short synopsis. The words “electropop,” “opera,” and “Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace” gave me the impression it had the potential to be either really cool or a complete disaster. I’ll tell you now: It was utterly insane, and I loved it.
Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812 is a sung-through musical; there is no spoken dialogue. Everything is performed in song, which can be a lot to take in for the average theatergoer. Coupled with the fact that it’s is an adaptation of Part 8 of War and Peace, you might be forgiven in expecting the effect to be too much. Instead, the show leans into its own weirdness, breaking the fourth wall before the action even begins. Performers enter through the lobby, where they mingle with the audience before the show. Almost immediately the musical makes fun of itself; in the first number, the company scatters additional programs containing a family tree with notes about each character, such as “eccentric” and “slut” (it’s tongue-in-cheek, don’t worry). The actors warn to pay attention because everybody has, like, eight names.
The set design feels like a cast member in its own right. Throughout the show, the ensemble performs in and around the audience, entering from the back of the auditorium and moving toward to stage, or utilizing the half-moon runway that goes from downstage out into the rows. A staircase curves artfully up from stage left to the balcony overhead. Scenic designer Phillip Hughen created something that lends itself to the spectacle called for by the script and also feels incredibly intimate, as if the audience were peering into the secret back room of a speakeasy or brothel.
Another unique aspect is the live music performed by an orchestra half-hidden by velvet curtains nestled upstage. The music is wild, ranging from moving operatic solos to a bouncing bass-heavy rave. At one point, the characters attend an opera-within-the-opera, which can only be described as delightfully bizarre. The note I jotted down reads, “Holy shit. This is hot.”
I’m refraining from going over the broad strokes — such as the plot — if only because I was so enamored with the details. Every actor, from the leads to the individuals of the ensemble, brought such an energy that everywhere you looked there was something interesting going on — which is an accomplishment in a musical this busy. Dave Malloy has written a play scattered with poignant vignettes. One such moment especially stood out, during a song in which an old man repeatedly asks, “Where are my glasses?” only for his daughter to remark that they are on top of his head. She then says quietly, “I disgust myself,” a moment I found incredibly relatable (from both perspectives).
While Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812 probably isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, I found it a fully immersive escape from reality and a complete theater success.
Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812 runs at Playhouse on the Square through May 21st.
Courtney Oliver as Cindy-Lou Who (Photo: Playhouse on the Square)
Every Who down in Who-ville loved Christmas a lot. But Cindy-Lou, who lives on the south side, has been through a LOT. Now living in a trailer park, she is ready to share her turbulent story, so stop by Playhouse on the Square and see Cindy, as played by Courtney Oliver, in her full glory.
“I cannot stress enough that this is not a kids show,” says director Marcus Cox. Put simply, Cindy-Lou with her unexpected past is quite unorthodox. “She asks audience members questions. There’s some food handed out. But it’s not like Rocky Horror where you can scream and shout.”
For Cox, this show marks his Playhouse directorial debut, and he’s the one who introduced the play to the crew. Before this, he’s mostly dabbled in children’s theater, but as said before, this is strictly an adults-only feature.
Courtney Oliver as Cindy-Lou Who (Photo: Playhouse on the Square)
But, fear not, Playhouse has kid-friendly productions going on this month, too: The Wizard of Oz and Junie B’s Essential Survival Guide to School are sure to woo. “We tell the stories of our full community, young and old,” says Cox. “We tell the stories of our community’s minds, hearts, and souls.”
As the regional theater for the entire Mid-South, Playhouse has to cover a large swath of land. “That requires us to do more shows, but we are proud that we have a team that can.
“People know Playhouse for edgy shows that make people cry and make people think, and all of that is vital and extremely distinct,” says Cox. “But it’s also good just to be able to relax and enjoy live theater with your family and with your friends. For Who’s Holiday, in particular, the fun never ends.”
But will your heart grow three sizes after the play? Well, only you can say, but on Thursdays through Saturdays at 8 p.m. and Sundays at 7 p.m., you can catch Who’s Holiday, opening this Friday. To purchase tickets to this production, The Wizard of Oz, and Junie B, visit playhouseonthesquare.com or call 937-6496.
Who’s Holiday, The Memphian Room at The Circuit Playhouse, Friday, November 25-December 22, $20-$45.
(from top to bottom) Scenes from the pioneering 1922 horror film Häxan, Howard Bell’s Jookin, and Bradford Thomason and Brett Whitcomb's Butterfly in the Sky.
These days, it seems that film discourse is dominated by discussions about the future. But while there are real issues facing the unique combination of art and commerce we call cinema, there’s more to movies than just the multiplex — and that’s what Indie Memphis has specialized in for the last 25 years.
“We are kind of in our own lane,” says Executive Director Kimel Fryer. “Indie Memphis is like no other film festival, because Memphis is like no other city.”
Indie Memphis was founded in 1998 by a group of University of Memphis film students led by Kelly Chandler. Known then as the Memphis Independent Film Festival, it attracted about 40 people to a Midtown coffee shop, where they watched student movies projected on a sheet hung on the wall. Nowadays, the annual festival boasts an attendance of more than 11,000, and the organization hosts programming and events year-round, such as the monthly Shoot & Splice programs, where filmmakers provide deep dives into their craft. The Indie Grants program was created in 2014 to help fund Memphis-made short films. The Black Creators Forum began in 2017 to help address the historic racial inequalities in filmmaking. During the pandemic, Eventive, a Memphis-based cinema services company that began as Indie Memphis’ online ticketing system, pioneered the virtual programming which is now an established feature of film festivals worldwide.
“It took 25 years for Indie Memphis to become an organization that reflects the city,” says Artistic Director Miriam Bale. “But each step along the way has added to what makes it special now.”
Memphis Grizzlies superstar Z-Bo in Michael Blevins’ 50 for Da City.Karbanová and Jitka Cerhová in Daisies.Tahar Rahim is a jilted lover in Don Juan.
A New Leader
Kimel Fryer took over as Indie Memphis’ new executive director only a few weeks ago. But she is no stranger to either Memphis or the world of independent film. She’s a West Tennessee native whose mother has taught at Oak Elementary since the mid-1990s. “My mom was always tough on me, and I’m grateful for it because I ended up kind of inheriting that from her,” she says. “In my mind, I’m supposed to reach for the stars. I’m supposed to overachieve.”
Fryer holds graduate degrees in law and business from the University of Memphis and the University of Tennessee at Knoxville. She has worked for companies as diverse as Lincoln Pacific and Pfizer, and left FedEx to take over the reins of Indie Memphis when Knox Shelton resigned after only a year on the job. The mother of two saw it as an opportunity to merge her professional life with her passion for film. “When I was working for Chrysler, I realized that I had this amazing job that I worked my butt off for,” she says. “It was a great company with great benefits. But I was depressed. If I wanna be completely honest, it was one of the saddest periods of my life.”
Growing up, Fryer had tried her hand at writing, and she had been involved with theater and band programs in high school and college. In Detroit, she found a new outlet for her creativity when she volunteered as casting director for filmmaker Robert Mychal Patrick Butler’s Life Ain’t Like the Movies. “The independent film world is very visible in Detroit,” she says.
When she landed Coming 2 America star Paul Bates for a role in the film, Butler promoted her to producer. “I said, ‘What is a producer?’ He said, ‘You’re kinda already doing it.’”
Fryer wrote and directed her own short film, “Something’s Off,” which will screen at Indie Memphis 2022. She says she got her acceptance email just a few weeks before she found out she was going to be the new executive director. “I’ve found this career where I could kind of wrap all my skills into one job,” she says. “I could actually be my full self all the time, which is really my dream.
“I’m very eager to learn and eager to meet other people, understand how they do things. But I’m also cognizant of the fact that I am coming back to Memphis, and we’ve always been a different city that has marched to the beat of our own drum. We’ve got to continue that as we continue to grow and strive for greatness in the film community. I’m really excited about what’s next. I believe in Indie Memphis. I believe in the staff. I believe we are headed towards a great film festival.”
The Picture Taker
From the 1950s to his death in 2007, it seemed that photographer Ernest Withers was everywhere. “We keep calling him a Zelig-like figure or like Forrest Gump,” says Phil Bertelsen, director of Indie Memphis 2022’s opening night film The Picture Taker. “He was at every flash point in Civil Rights history, and then some.”
Ernest Withers, courtesy of the Withers Family Trust.
Withers was a tireless documenter of Black life in the South. His work even appeared in publications like Jet and the Chicago Defender. “Some of my favorite photos of his are street portraits — the photos he took of everyday people just going about their daily business,” says Bertelsen.
“I think what made him almost like a father figure in Memphis was the fact that he recorded his community’s lives literally from birth to death,” says producer Lise Yasui. “He left behind an estimated 1.8 million photos. They are of every major event in every family’s life — as we say, it’s celebrations as well as sorrows. He locked that into their histories and made sure that they had these records of the lives they lived. Those photographs are really beautiful. They have an intimacy that can only come from someone inside the community.”
Three years after Withers’ 2007 death, Commercial Appeal reporter Marc Perrusquia revealed that the trusted photographer had been a paid informant for the FBI. The news came as a shock to many in the community, who saw it as a betrayal of the Civil Rights activists who had trusted Withers. “When you go behind the headlines and the surface of it all, you recognize that there’s a lot of nuance and complexity to that choice that he made at that time,” says the director. “What we attempted to do with the film is to try to understand that time, that choice, and the man who was at the center of it all.
“I think it could be said, without question, that Ernest was a patriot who believed in the hope and promise of this country,” continues Bertelsen. “Don’t forget he was a fourth-generation American war veteran.”
Withers was far from the only one talking to the FBI — their reports refer to him as source #338. “I had the privilege and the workload of reading as many of the FBI files as we could get our hands on,” says Yasui. “They tell a story that’s pretty intense and really detailed in terms of names, places, affiliations, and friendships — everything down to personal gossip. The other thing that you have to understand is they are FBI records written by FBI agents. So there’s not a single document in the 7,000+ pages that I’ve read that is a direct quote from Ernest himself. It’s always through the lens of his FBI handler. That’s not to say that what he wrote was not accurate, but it’s filtered through their agenda, which was to root out radicals who were allegedly inside the Civil Rights movement. …We heard testimony that he basically kept people from harm’s way because he knew what he knew. But at the same time, he damaged the reputations of people by informing on them. It was a double-edged sword that he was wielding.”
Ironically, it’s people like Coby Smith, a member of the Memphis-based Black Power group The Invaders, prime targets of the FBI’s COINTELPRO program, who defend Withers in The Picture Taker. “He was a man of great reputation and appreciation,” says Bertelsen. “In fact, we were hard-pressed to find anyone who had anything negative to say about him, even after it was shown that he informed on them.”
For Bertelsen and Yasui, this is the end of a six-year journey. “We are so grateful to the many people of Memphis who helped us get this story, especially the family who really took a leap of faith by trusting us with his images,” says Bertelsen. “They’ve had to face some very painful revelations about their patriarch, and they’re still facing them. I think it shows a certain amount of grace and trust and understanding. There are a lot of ways you can interpret this story, and they haven’t shied away from the truth. They told us they learned things about their dad that they didn’t know before, through this film. That’s very gratifying to us.”
The Poor & Hungry
In 2021, Craig Brewer directed Coming 2 America. It was his second collaboration with comedy superstar Eddie Murphy, and the biggest hit in the history of Amazon Studios.
In 2000, the biggest job Brewer had ever held was a clerk at Barnes & Noble bookstore. That was the year his first feature film, The Poor & Hungry, premiered at Indie Memphis. “I still feel that it was the biggest premiere that I’ve ever been to, and the one with the highest stakes,” he says. “Winning Best Feature for 2000 is still the greatest award I can ever remember winning in my life. … The festival back then was a beacon. It was the North Star. We were all making something so we could showcase it at Indie Memphis. It’s something I hope is still happening with the younger filmmakers today. I had another short that year called ‘Cleanup In Booth B.’ It was a big, productive time for me. But it was also the first time ever to see my work being shown in front of people at a movie theater.”
Craig Brewer’s The Poor & Hungry, which premiered at Indie Memphis Festival in 2000, will return to the festival.
The Poor & Hungry is the story of Eli (Eric Tate), a Memphis car thief who accidentally falls in love with one of his victims, a cellist named Amanda (Lake Latimer). The characters’ lives revolve around the P&H Cafe, a legendary Midtown dive bar which was run by the flamboyant Wanda Wilson, who plays herself. To call the black-and-white feature, shot with a handheld digital camcorder, “gritty” is a massive understatement. But Brewer was able to wring some striking, noir-like images from his cheap equipment, and the film features a series of great performances, most notably Lindsey Roberts’ stunning turn as Harper, a lesbian street hustler.
“I think what I got right on it is something that I tried to carry over to Hustle & Flow, which was, how do you create characters that, if somebody were to just describe them to you, you would say, ‘I don’t think I would like them’? But then, when you start watching them in the story, you find that you not only love them, but you want them to succeed, and you feel for them when they’re in pain.”
Made for $20,000, which Brewer inherited when his father Walter died suddenly of a heart attack, The Poor & Hungry would go on to win Best Feature at the Hollywood Film Festival, defeating films which had cost millions to produce. It got his foot in the door in Hollywood and earned him the opportunity to direct his second feature film Hustle & Flow, which was nominated for two Academy Awards, winning one for Three 6 Mafia’s song “It’s Hard Out Here For A Pimp.”
The Poor & Hungry will return to the festival where it premiered as part of Indie Memphis’ 25th anniversary celebration. “When I look at it now, I view it as an artifact of a time in Memphis. There are so many places that aren’t there anymore. The P&H Cafe that it’s named after is no more, and Wanda has left this planet in bodily form but remains in spirit. I’m so glad that I captured all that. It’s good to see a Memphis that may not be there anymore. But most importantly, I hope people come see it because it’s the movie that I point people to when they say that they want to make a movie but they think it’s impossible. Well, I made this with just a small camcorder, a microphone, four clamp lights, and a lot of effort.”
Hometown Heroes
It’s a bumper crop year for the Hometowner categories, which showcase films made here in the Bluff City. In addition to anniversary celebrations of Brewer’s The Poor & Hungry and this columnist’s punk rock documentary Antenna, nine features from Memphis filmmakers are screening during the festival.
Jookin is Howard Bell IV’s story of an aspiring dancer caught up in Memphis street life. The ’Vous by Jack Porter Lofton and Jeff Dailey is a documentary about the world-famous Rendezvous restaurant. Ready! Fire! Aim! is Melissa Sweazy’s portrait of Memphis entrepreneur Kemmons Wilson, founder of Holiday Inn. Show Business Is My Life — But I Can’t Prove It by G.B. Shannon is a documentary about the 50-year career of comedian Gary Mule Deer. Michael Blevins’ 50 for Da City recounts Z-Bo’s legendary run as a Memphis Grizzly. Cxffeeblack to Africa by Andrew Puccio traces Bartholomew Jones’ pilgrimage to Ethiopia to discover the roots of the java trade. United Front: The People’s Convention 1991Memphis is Chuck O’Bannon’s historical documentary about the movement that produced Memphis’ first Black mayor. Daphene R. McFerren’s Facing Down Storms: Memphis and the Making of Ida B. Wells sheds light on the Black journalist’s early years in the Bluff City. The Recycle King is Julian Harper’s character sketch of fashion designer Paul Thomas.
Bartholomew Jones in Andrew Puccio’s documentary Cxffeeblack to AfricaJack Oblivian in the Memphis punk rock documentary Antenna
On opening night is the Hometowner Narrative Shorts Competition. In recent years, this has been the toughest category in the entire festival, where Memphis filmmakers stretch their talents to the limits for 10 minutes at a time.
Janay Kelley is one of eight filmmakers whose works were chosen to screen in the narrative shorts competition. A junior at Rhodes College, she’s a product of the Indie Memphis CrewUp mentorship program, and two-time Grand Prize winner at the Indie Memphis Youth Festival. “This is my first film festival as an adult,” she says.
Kelley’s film is “The River,” an experimental marriage of imagery and verse. “My grandmother told me once that the river that you got baptized in could be the same river that drowns you in the morning. I like that dichotomy of healing and of destroying, of accepting new people into your life and saying, ‘Will you help me or will you harm me?’”
Kelley provides her own narration for the film, which was based on a prose poem she wrote while still in high school. “I take a lot of inspiration from my Southern heritage, especially from the women in my family,” she says.
The visuals reference several Black artists of the 20th century, especially the painting Funeral Procession by Ellis Wilson, which was famously featured on The Cosby Show. Kelley treats the many women, young and old, who appear in the film with a portraitist’s touch.
“Before I started in films, I was really into photography, and you can see a lot of that still in my work,” she says. “I come from a very poor background. There is a specific picture of my mother, my grandmother, and my aunt, and they got it taken at the fair. Back in the day, they used to take people’s portraits there, so some families would get dressed up to go to the fair to get their portraits taken, because they couldn’t afford to get it done any way else. What you need to know about being poor and Black in the South is that a lot of us don’t live long. So some of the stories I’ve heard about my family members, I’ve heard after they have died, and I’ve had to kind of stare at their pictures. I think it comes out of a genuine love of the history of photography, and what it meant for people like me.”
Witchcraft Through the Ages
Indie Memphis’ October spot on the calendar means that it coincides with what Bale calls “the spooky season,” when many horror movie aficionados embark on a monthlong binge watch. For this year’s festival, Bale programed a pair of rarely seen horror classics that have significant anniversaries. The first is Ghostwatch, a British mockumentary which debuted 30 years ago.
In the tradition of Orson Welles’ infamous Halloween radio broadcast of “War of the Worlds,” Ghostwatch was presented as a Halloween special in which real-life BBC journalists Sarah Greene and Craig Charles would broadcast a live investigation of a supposedly haunted house. But their goofy Halloween jokes turn serious when the house’s real ghosts show up and start causing mayhem. When it was first broadcast on Halloween night in 1992, the BBC switchboard was jammed with more than 1 million calls from viewers concerned that their favorite newscasters were being slaughtered by ghosts on live television. “This is a staff favorite,” says Bale.
The second Halloween special is Häxan, which has its 100th anniversary this year. Indie Memphis commissioned a new score for the silent film from Alex Greene, who is also the music editor for the Memphis Flyer. For this performance, Greene’s jazz ensemble The Rolling Head Orchestra — Jim Spake, Tom Lonardo, Mark Franklin, Carl Caspersen, and Jim Duckworth — will be joined by theremin virtuoso Kate Taylor. “We’ve been wanting to work with Alex for a long time, and this was a great opportunity,” says Bale.
Indie Memphis honors the 100th anniversary of the pioneering 1922 horror film Häxan with a new live score from Alex Greene and the Rolling Head Orchestra.
Director Benjamin Christensen based Häxan on his study of the Malleus Maleficarum (“The Hammer of Witches”), a guide for clergymen conducting witch hunts, published in 1486. Upon its premiere in 1922, Häxan was the most expensive silent film made in Europe. Christensen’s meticulous recreations of witches’ Sabbath celebrations, complete with flying broomsticks and an appearance by a mischievous Satan (played by the director himself), still look incredible. Its frank depictions of the Inquisition provide the horror. “I was shocked by how much of it is framed by the torture of the witches,” says Greene. “It implies that a lot of this crazy behavior they described was just victims trying to make up anything to stop the thumbscrews.”
Released a decade before Dracula ushered in the modern horror era, Häxan is a unique cinema experience. “I think of it as kind of like Shakespeare’s time, when the English language was not as settled in spellings and meanings of words. It was a fluid language,” says Greene. “This film came at a time when the language of cinema was very fluid and kind of up for grabs, which is why you could have this weird hybrid of documentary/reenactment/essay.”
“It’s within the Halloween realm, but not necessarily a horror movie,” says Bale. “That’s part of what’s so interesting about it. There are some silent films that just feel so fresh, they could have been made yesterday. Häxan is one of those.”
The 25th Indie Memphis Film Festival runs from October 19th to the 22nd at the Orpheum Theatre’s Halloran Centre, Crosstown Theater, Black Lodge, Malco Studio on the Square, The Circuit Playhouse, Playhouse on the Square, and virtually on Eventive. Festival passes and individual film tickets can be purchased at indiememphis.org. The Memphis Flyer will feature continuing coverage of Indie Memphis 2022 on the web at memphisflyer.com.
As someone who has spent years studying and watching musical theater, I can say that Something Rotten! is like one giant inside joke for the theater crowd, particularly those with a penchant for William Shakespeare.
Playhouse on the Square’s production of Something Rotten! is the perfect show for anyone who loves musical theater, but don’t worry, even if the multitude of theater references are flying over your head, you’ll still enjoy it. When I speak to director/choreographer Whitney Branan over the phone, she reassures me, “If you are somebody who is not a musical theater or a Shakespeare — I say this term with pride because I am one — nerd, you will still have the best night at the theater because it is hilarious.”
Something Rotten! takes place in the year 1595 during the English renaissance. Two brothers, Nick and Nigel Bottom, are struggling playwrights living in the shadow of the illustrious Shakespeare. Nick Bottom’s ill-fated plan to enlist a soothsayer to show him the future of theater ends up with him trying desperately to figure out how to pull off a full-scale musical without knowing quite exactly what that is. As Branan puts it, “It is the story of seeing these renaissance theater troupe members try to create this new art form from kind of hints from the future, and it goes terribly wrong.”
And so the Bottom brothers are pitted against Shakespeare, who Branan describes as “the rockstar of the day.” William Shakespeare is hilariously portrayed as a man whose fame has gone completely to his head, resulting in a sort of egocentric machismo that makes fun of itself more and more as the show unfolds.
Rife with pop culture and theater Easter eggs, the show’s musical numbers are all delightfully tongue-in-cheek. The ensemble cast truly shows their comedic chops in this play, as the dances themselves are often an additional layer in the ongoing musical-within-a-musical joke. The characters even poke fun — multiple times — at iambic pentameter, using modern slang and completely ignoring their Elizabethan setting.
According to Branan, “The concept of the show is really cool because it is set in Shakespeare’s world, but it has this anachronism aesthetic to it.” That aesthetic is a huge part of what makes the show inherently funny, but the performances are what really drive the humor home. Comedy is the force behind this musical, and it’s also where the company shines the most. I laughed out loud throughout the production.
(Credit: Bill Simmers)
Something Rotten! was originally slated to be performed at Playhouse during 2020 but was rescheduled multiple times due to the pandemic. The production that came out of that long interim was absolutely worth the wait. Branan took every opportunity to brag on both her cast and production crew. “The dancers that were originally cast in this show spent the pandemic upping their game,” she said explaining that some of the actors used the two-year wait as added time to perfect their tap dancing skills.
One of my favorite things about this specific production of Something Rotten! is that Memphis theater in particular receives nods throughout the show. Branan shares that she did this with great intention, even reaching out to Christi Hall, the choreographer of Guys and Dolls which opened at Theatre Memphis on the same night as Something Rotten!
There are two eight counts of choreography from Guys and Dolls that make a “special cameo appearance” in Something Rotten! Memphis theater regulars will also spot allusions to Playhouse favorites such Little Shop of Horrors and Kinky Boots. For a show that persevered through two years of Covid-19 delays, there is a kind of added affection attached. Branan puts it beautifully: “The show is a valentine to Shakespeare, it’s a valentine to theater, it’s a valentine to musical theater, but our work that we’ve done for a couple of years on this show is a valentine to the Memphis theater community.”
If you are a theater-loving Memphian, don’t let this opportunity to show your appreciation to local artists pass you by. It’s not every day that you can see a Broadway musical that has been specially personalized to fit your community.
Something Rotten! runs through September 18th at Playhouse on the Square.
Smokey Joe’s Cafe (Courtesy Playhouse on the Square)
I’m coming to realize that when viewing a play, I often start out tepid. I think this might be an effort on my part to remain objective, to let go of any preconceived notions and simply take in what’s about to unfold. If Playhouse on the Square’s Smokey Joe’s Cafe found me lukewarm at the top of Act One, then know that by the end of Act Two I was fully in love. This is a production that will win you over entirely.
Smokey Joe’s Cafe is a revue, and in case you’re unfamiliar with the theatrical term, let me explain. A revue has no plot or storyline. There are no characters to follow, no dialogue to keep track of. Smokey Joe’s Cafe is a revue that feels as though your favorite golden oldies playlist manifested itself onstage in a perfect paracosm of feel-good music. The music, all works by Jerome Leiber and Mike Stoller, is the central theme running through the show. Rich ensemble harmonies and outstanding solo numbers are rife throughout, and as an audience member, there is nothing asked of you except to sit back and experience pure, unadulterated entertainment.
The music in the show is what my parents would have grown up listening to on the radio. During intermission, my friend, Maggie Fyfe turned to me and said, “My mom would love this.” Because I grew up listening to ’60s hits, the songs were almost all familiar and comforting to me, as well, despite my millennial age. The general feeling in the audience was one of joy. I often found myself smiling underneath my mask, and every time I glanced around, everyone else was grinning as well. The occasional breaking of the fourth wall invites the audience in, and the atmosphere this show creates as a result is convivial.
I typically admire dressed-down set design, and Ryan Howell’s scenic configuration was no exception. By the second half of the show, where the cast really seemed to find their stride and turn up the energy, I was admiring it because it stayed out of their way. The elements of this show — the costumes, the live band onstage, the giant neon sign bearing the title of the play — come together seamlessly without distracting the viewer from the true point of the show: the musical performances.
Each member of the cast had an opportunity to shine, from Kylan Owens’ taking the spotlight in Daniel Stuart Nelson’s choreography, to Breyannah Tillman belting out “Hound Dog” like you’ve never heard before in your life — even in Memphis, Tennessee. Maggie and I paused on our way out after seeing the show to hash out our favorite moments. At one point she asked me, “Are you just gonna write about how sexy it was?” While it is difficult to refrain from gushing over Cleavon Meaborn IV crawling downstage during “Little Egypt” for the rest of this column, I will do my best to remain professional. (I think it was “Little Egypt.” I was so absorbed that my note-taking admittedly began to suffer.) Memphians will be pleased to note that the several Elvis songs throughout the show are performed without feeling campy or impressionistic, with each performer bringing distinct personality to the numbers.
The most powerful moment of the night, in my opinion, took place in Act Two. The female members of the company came together to sing “I’m a Woman,” and, being a woman of child-bearing age in the midst of current headlines, this one hit different for me. Brooke Papritz in particular took no prisoners, her voice ringing out with rage, passion, and pride. There were several times that Maggie and I glanced at one another with the raised-eyebrow expression that universally translates to an impressed, “Damn!” “I’m a Woman” contained one such moment.
Personally, I needed this show at this time in my life. Not every play or musical can offer you a chance to truly turn off your brain, forget your stress, and be uplifted. Smokey Joe’s Cafe offers up comedy alongside performances of some of the biggest hits of the 20th century. I walked out in a better mood than when I went in, which is the best praise I can give. Smokey Joe’s Cafe runs through Sunday, May 29th, at Playhouse on the Square.
Smokey Joe’s Cafe (Courtesy Playhouse on the Square)
