Tag: quark theatre

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Intermission Impossible Theater

Farce Meets Horror in a Top Notch Radiant Vermin

Michelle Gregory, Lena Wallace Black, Chase Ring in ‘Radiant Vermin’

Philip Ridley’s Radiant Vermin is a comedy about a newlywed couple discovering the dream-home they’ve always wanted can be theirs, if they’re willing to do what it takes. What it takes is both awful and potentially in the service of some grander, even more awful agenda. Think Whose Line Is It Anyway? meets American Psycho (but British), all rolled up in a gloriously ham-fisted metaphor for a related set of familiar urban plagues. 

Storytelling techniques eliminate the need for sets and costumes. Shocking events are shared directly with the audience via light narration and flashbacks, with three actors taking on all roles. Things come to a head in a climactic garden party from hell, when neighbors who’ve all recently moved into the almost mysteriously trendy area converge. With its terrific cast leading the way, Quark Theatre’s creative team plays every note in this darkly comic aria perfectly, delivering surprise laughter and even more surprising flashes of tenderness.   

Michelle Gregory, Lena Wallace Black, and Chase Ring make up the tightest ensemble in town. They pull off an energetic balancing act that threatens to soar too far over the top, but stays just grounded enough for the human stakes to matter. 

What’s the worst thing you ever did for security? Comfort? Luxury? Did you even know you were doing it? And who are the real rats? These are some of the questions at the core Radiant Vermin, a show that gets in its audience’s face bit, while spoofing some contemporary British problems that sound awfully American.

Radiant Vermin is a kind of Macbeth for moderns exploring creature comforts, and how they help us manage guilt and other unpleasant feelings.  It asks us who the real rats are.

Radiant Vermin is at Theatre South through March 31. I cannot recommend it enough. More details are available here. 

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Intermission Impossible Theater

Meet Quark Theatre’s “Radiant Vermin”

Michelle Gregory, Lena Wallace Black, Chase Ring in ‘Radiant Vermin’

What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done for something you really wanted?

Chase Ring likes attention. Ring — currently lending his talents to Quark Theatre — made his marriage proposal onstage at Memphis’ annual Theatre Awards, The Ostranders. He’s one of the players in Philip Ridley’s Radiant Vermin, opening at Theatre South this weekend, and he’s quick to tell stories about the lengths he’s been willing to go to for a little limelight — minor self-mutilation, skinny dipping in the Tony Garner memorial fountain in front of the McCoy Theatre at Rhodes College. None of it’s really bad, but Ring’s co-stars Michelle Gregory and Lena Wallace Black shrink a bit because, to hear them tell it, they’ve never broken the rules for any reason ever. Then, at length, another member of team Vermin makes a sheepish admission.

“I had a fake ID,” she says. I won’t say who engaged in this heinous criminal deceit, nor will I call out the other for fibbing to reporters about never veering from the straight-and-narrow because, as St. Augustine made plain in his Confessions, being a little bad can be its own reward. And once you get rolling it can be hard to hit the breaks.

We humans are infinitely adaptable creatures, all too willing to take risks, and subvert shame and conscious when the payoffs are suitably rewarding, and that’s the most I want to say about this condition as it relates to Radiant Vermin.  Sometimes we cross the line for funsies — like a little skinny dip here and there or fudging our ages for access.

Sometimes there’s a body count. Sometimes we’re all implicated in the carnage.

Meet Quark Theatre’s ‘Radiant Vermin’

I took the sound out of this video to enhance mystery and let users add their own soundtrack. Trust me, you’ll want to.

Philip Ridley’s Radiant Vermin is a comedy about a newlywed couple discovering the dream-home they’ve always wanted can be theirs, if they’re willing to do what it takes. And what it takes is …  a lot.

What are you willing to do for security? What are you willing to do for comfort? Luxury? To let folks know who you are? And here’s maybe the more important question? Did you even know you were doing it?

Caption contest?

“I almost hate to say the word, but it’s a very ‘meta’ kind of play,” Director Tony Isbell says. “Some have compared it to a sketch show. It’s not a naturalistic, at all, there’s a performative element to everything they do, and it’s funny.”

Ridley’s plays can be dark. The English visual artist and storyteller turned playwright pioneered what’s been described as the “In-yer-face” style. Radiant Vermin marks a shift in tone for Ridley but the fast-paced morality-farce still gets in the audience’s’s face at least a little bit. 

“His early stuff is funny but it can be dark-dark,” Isbell says. “This is more dark-light.”

Radiant Vermin opens this week at the best little basement theater in Cooper Young, Theatre South. Click here for details.

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Intermission Impossible Theater

Quark Theatre Announces New Season, New Nonprofit Status

Sims v the Detective in Quark’s ‘The Nether’

In only a few short seasons, Quark Theatre has built a reputation for producing thoughtfully staged work that’s conceptually ambitious, intellectually challenging, and technically do-able: little plays full of big ideas. Keeping with the Quark tradition, Season Four is exploring themes like the meaning of life, the meaning of death, the meaning of meaning, and what all that means. It marks the company’s fifth year of making theater together, and its first as a nonprofit.

September, 2019 
WAKEY, WAKEY by Will Eno

Wakey, Wakey is a funny, sad, tragic, comic examination of life and the leaving of it. In the first line of the show, GUY, the protagonist, seems to rouse from a nap and says “Is it now? I thought I had more time.”

And then we’re off to an examination of GUY’s life as he comes to the end of it. But it’s not a wake we’ve come to attend, but rather a celebration of GUY’s life, and OUR lives, too. A funny, thoughtful, at times tearful examination of what it means to be human.

The New York Times called “A glowingly dark, profoundly moving new play.”

March, 2020
A NUMBER by Caryl Churchill

When an adult son confronts his father about the reality behind his existence and identity, a dark world of truths, half-truths and lies is exposed…and nothing will ever be the same. The son learns he is but one of a number of clones, each with his own distinct personality and life. When multiple versions of a person exist, how can he be sure the love of his father is real?

The New York Times called it “A gripping dramatic consideration of what happens to autonomous identity in a world where people can be cloned.”

Quark’s next show is Radiant Vermin. The comedy by Philip Ridley opens March 15th. 

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Intermission Impossible Theater

The Typographer’s Dream is Dreamy Comedy at TheatreSouth

First off, Quark Theatre’s production of The Typographer’s Dream, is a fine, fine thing with more honest laughs, and little epiphanies than most plays twice its length. I’m probably not going to write very much about It though. Not because it’s not worthy, but because it’s a tiny thing, featuring only three actors, no set to speak of, and clocking in at around 75-minutes. More than usual, describing any of the component parts in any detail will spoil the fun.

Instead of narrative, playwright Adam Bock uses the convention of a panel discussion to just let a typographer, a geographer, and a stenographer talk directly to the audience about their seemingly unrelated jobs. The result is a curious, quirky show about the differences between what we do and who we are. Playing out like the most delightful documentary Fast, Cheap, and Out of Control filmmaker Errol Morris never made, The Typographer’s Dream is a subtle, jokey inquiry into the malleable, too-easily-shaded nature of translation and described realities. Best part: For being pretty heady stuff, Bock is never afraid to be a little poignant, and first and foremost, The Typographer’s Dream was built to entertain. But when the laughter fades, it may leave audiences contemplating the meaning, poetics, and ethics of their own occupations.

Jillian Barron is joyfully weird as the geographer. She’s one of those eternally chipper people and seems to love her job — and maps — just a little too much. Eric Vinton Jones plays the proud, disciplined stenographer like a man who’s always wondered what it might be like for somebody to care about what he had to say for a change. It’s a quiet, uncommonly honest performance, and very funny. 

Of the bunch, Michelle Miklosey’s typographer has the most trouble getting started. Her character’s feelings are complicated and thinking about them doesn’t always bring clarity. She’s not sure how to describe her her job. She’s not a graphic artist or a word decorator. She’s engaged with so much more than a visual representation of language. She worries about truth and honesty and how meaning can be distorted if we give it a misleading physical form. The whole of this warm, probing (but not so deep) comedy turns on this idea. It’s frustrating. It’s lovely.

Speaking of misleading, it’s not entirely true that there’s no narrative here. A story tying the three panelists together does emerge from their fragmented work histories. It becomes full enough to trigger stylistically incongruous flashbacks that shouldn’t work but somehow do.

Director Tony Isbell’s kept things simple, which is never as simple as it sounds. It’s another winner for Quark Theatre, and bite-sized performance in Memphis. 

The Typographer’s Dream closes this weekend, so catch it while you can. It would be so nice if a show of this scale — a show that could move into another theater, shopfront, lobby, or living room tomorrow — could be kept going. If it could be booked privately, like a band or deployed like a calling card to raise awareness, and $ for the company. But that never happens. Assume it will be gone after this weekend. Though it seems like such a disposable trifle, this is a show you want to see — a show you’ll want to keep with you. 

For more details, here’s the click.

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Theater Theater Feature

Great performances define 12 Angry Jurors, Years to the Day.

The Ostrander Awards executive committee needs to create a new category for set designer Jack Yates: Best Performance by an Onstage Bathroom. Last season, I witnessed an audience member walking across a realistic set into fake facilities Yates built for Rasheeda Speaking. Then last Sunday morning, I awoke to similar stories in my social media feed from Theatre Memphis’ sturdy, star-studded production of 12 Angry Jurors. As was the case with Rasheeda, Yates has developed an immersive space, placing the audience in an environment that’s as familiar as it is convincing — at least if you need to pee badly enough. But we’re not here to talk toilets, are we?

Though its fierce, searching speeches feel by-the-numbers in ways that expose Jurors‘ roots as an Eisenhower-era tele-play, Reginald Rose’s script is frustratingly current in its depiction of prejudice in the American legal system. It tells the story of a murder trial that might have ended in an easy guilty verdict if not for the persistence of one skeptical juror who defied peer pressure and outright threats because a man’s life was at stake. Director John Rone’s cast is a Who’s Who of Memphis Theater with Kim Justis, Bennett Wood, Pamela Poletti, Christina Wellford Scott, and Jim and Jo Lynne Palmer in key roles — and that’s just the first half-dozen. It’s a dream team, and every player’s at least as convincing as Yates’ crapper. It’s a rare and serious treat to see so many generations of talent working together on a classic. Catch it if you can.

12 Angry Jurors at Theatre Memphis through October 1st

12 Angry Jurors

Maybe I have a weird sense of beauty, but I’ve got to confess, I got a little choked up when I pulled right up to the door of 7 N. Main on my bike and looked into the brightly lit space. When those lights finally went down on Quark’s production of Years to the Day, I knew anybody walking by outside could look in and watch the show, too. They could watch the audience watching the show. Everything was so minimal, so open, immediate, inviting and accessible. It was something to see without being remotely extravagant.

Tony Isbell directs Adam Remsen and David Hammons in Allen Barton’s play about two middle-aged white guys sitting around talking that’s way more engaging than that sounds. Dan (Remsen) and Jeff (Hammons) are old college buddies who’ve grown apart and, prior to the awkward coffee date we witness, haven’t made time to hang out in four years. The ensuing conversation touches on all the things one might expect from a couple of 40-something guys hanging out talking — the latest film, health, aging, sex, kids, divorce, the grim specter of death on the horizon, etc. Jeff’s gay now. Dan nearly died of a heart attack in the parking lot of a discount store. There’s some catching up to do, and it’s not easy.

Dan’s such a conservative ranter and despiser of all things “nanny state,” it’s hard to imagine at times how these two men were ever friends. But the magic of Years to the Day is rooted in a slow-burning revelation that shared personal history creates needs that outweigh cultural values.

The story is set in a familiar world with an alternative history, so familiar situations are presented without the usual cultural/political baggage. This nearly trigger-free environment lets us watch debates without becoming a part of them — to see the dynamics of argument, not the merits of an argument. It’s a nifty, hypnotic writing trick, though it can also feel a little gimmicky at times.

If watching two strong, unaffected actors ruthlessly going for it in a tight, high-stakes game of middle-stakes Life sounds like your idea of a good time, Years to the Day delivers.

I’m not sure what else I can say about this show without spoiling punchlines that sometimes land like actual punches. Clocking in at under 80 minutes, it’s not a huge time investment either, leaving plenty of time to enjoy life on the riverfront.

Quark’s Years to the Day at 7 N. Main through September 29th

Categories
Theater Theater Feature

Memphis theaters confront a variety of hideous creatures.

CREDIT: Bill Simmers

Daylight saving time may have sprung us forward Sunday, but even so, it’s getting darker out there all the time. Almost every production on stage in Memphis right now toys in some way with concepts of ugliness, scars, and deformity. In Lord of the Flies, schoolboys turn into murderous beasts when they’re marooned on an island. Violet’s about a girl whose face was scarred by an axe. Based on the true story of the conjoined Hilton twins, Side Show tells a circus story populated by a cast of “human oddities.” Blackbird‘s a tiny piece of chamber theater subjecting audiences to 90 painfully awkward real-time minutes as a victim of child sexual abuse confronts her abuser at his workplace. Everything’s ugly, and beautifully done.

There are moments in Playhouse on the Square’s chillingly austere take on William Golding’s classic Lord of the Flies when the story’s opposing gangs threaten to stage a Pat Benatar video or square off in a Jets vs. Sharks dance-off. The sequences — impressive as they are — create tonal inconsistencies in a strong show. It works but never as cohesively as it might.

Lord of the Flies is the definition of an ensemble show. Director Jordan Nichols brought together an age-appropriate cast of (mostly) teens, capable of addressing the story’s heart and its horror. Golding’s violent parable of tribalism and unraveling democracy is encumbered by a bit of post-colonial savage vs. civilization bias, but its story of marooned British schoolboys playing naked dominance politics rings as true as ever. The kids nail it.

In one of the evening’s more effective movement numbers, the cast becomes a living, breathing evolution chart going one way first, then full on reverse. It’s too brutal and too beautiful and probably too on the nose. It’s also a perfect bullseye.

Lord of the Flies at Playhouse on the Square through March 26th

Violet‘s the best Tony-nominated musical nobody’s ever heard of. Based on Doris Betts’ short story The Ugliest Pilgrim and buoyed by a collage of authentic Americana sounds, Violet tells the story of a hardened young woman who’s pinned her hopes and dreams on a Tulsa faith healer. It’s a road trip story prominently featuring one hot, transformative night in Memphis. In a short-feeling 90 minutes, Violet tackles big ideas about race, class, beauty, and faith with none of the usual “put it on Jesus” cliches. Germantown Community Theatre’s production of Violet boasts some extraordinary voices and some not-so-extraordinary voices, but it’s all honesty and heart. Nichol Pritchard’s Violet is someone everybody knows. Hers is a standout performance.

Violet composer Jeanine Tesori (Fun Home, Caroline, or Change) dove deep into American roots music and delivered an unpretentious country-, blues-, and bluegrass-laden score, where Bo Diddley beats meet big Broadway ballads.

Violet at Germantown Community Theatre through March 26th

If you like good acting, go see Blackbird. If you like stories that are so overloaded with emotional twists, you’ll spend the rest of the night unpacking it all, go see Blackbird. This first production by Memphis’ Quark Theatre is one hell of an introduction. Tony Isbell and Fiona Battersby play Ray and Una — a sexual predator and his one known victim. Their unexpected reunion in Ray’s workplace keeps audiences squirming, cringing, and trying very hard to look away (and failing) for 90 intense minutes.

Blackbird at TheatreSouth through March 26th

Side Show‘s got it all — great voices, great design, and a great story to tell. It doesn’t really capture the hell conjoined twins Violet and Daisy Hilton lived through and only hints at a life where every relationship is abusive, reducing a horrible existence to so much irony and failed romance, but for all of its missed opportunities, this circus musical cuts to the core of everyday insecurity. Who hasn’t felt like everybody was staring at them and asked “Who will love me as I am?”

With the simplest gestures, Theatre Memphis’ designers have turned the entire main stage space into a big top. The effect brings everybody into the same big tent for the show’s duration.

Side Show at Theatre Memphis through April 2nd