Hand of God is puppet silliness writ way large 

All the basic condition theatre requires is that fire last night &
those costumes & the human voice & people gathered together.  

Sir Trevor Nunn, Director (Cats, 1981 \ Les Miserables, 1985)

Tyrone's shock of red hair reveals his inner me to Sunday schoolers Jason & Jennifer.  David Cooper photo.

From the footlights : What could possibly go wrong with a "puppet ministry" for Sunday schoolers conducted by a middle-age widow in a cheery, chipper Texas church basement? Enter the demon child Tyrone, a hand-held sock puppet that is the creation of the widow's teenage son Jason. Tyrone quickly establishes how he is Jason's alter ego, a frothing, foul-mouthed priapic presence demanding his allotted time on earth.

Jason's dad died six months back from a food-fed heart attack brought on by countless moons of marital misery. Both Jason and mom Margery use the puppet piece as a way to act out their not-very-deeply masqued anxieties and impulses. Death does that to peoples' psyches, and playwright Robert Askins pulls all the right churchy strings taking us there with a delicious mix of hilarity spiked with faux-horror bits.

As oft-noted, obviously, this show can't help but be seen as a nod toward Avenue Q via an extended romp on The Exorcist set too. Oh, sure, big themes such as guilt and hypocrisy and choice-vs-chance and the gap between thought-&-deed, about love, hate, fear, loyalty and loss are looked at, but not at the expense of the acid-tipped comedy Askins intends here the more.

Son Jason and puppet maven Mom Margery share a scary distracted driving moment.  David Cooper photo.

How it's all put together :  By his own admission, the script is based on Askins' experiences as a teenager in the suburban Texas town of Cypress (akin to suppress; repress). A believer in The Jesus Story through Grade 10, Askins, like Jason, does a 180 pirouette and dives into the sulphurous streams of Satan's realm after Dad dies youngish and he blames both God and Mom for his loss. "Sympathy for the Devil" will dance gustily-&-gleefully in your head in short order. It did in mine at least. But if you're of newer vintage than I, you'll no doubt recognize AC/DC's "Hell's Bells" as the show's recessional anthem.

As the puppetteers practice at practicing their skit, Jason's character Tyrone starts popping off about Jason's budding attraction toward Jessica. She's genuinely into the puppetry schtick, while a moody & sulky Timothy attends under duress : mom dumps him there enroute to her AA meeting. The fun of it all is watching Jason flip from his flesh-&-blood mama's boy contralto into Tyrone's Mike Tyson-meets-Anthony Hopkins growly riffs. It is this primary difference from the Avenue Q modality of the actor "being" their puppets that makes Hand to God just that much goofier still. 

Production values that shine through :  Obviously playwright Askins wants audiences to explore their own aggressive, sexually-charged tendencies that are normally squelched in polite company. Until we get to act them out thanks to some silly sox and related role-plays that conspire so we drop our normal personae and play out The Other that lurks in our soul, too. 

The play's promotional materials pose the quasi-metaphysical question whether we are born innocent in a state of grace and then flail-&-fail in an inevitable fall after a wee bite of apple. Or are we fundamentally corrupt and mediocre souls who only occasionally manage to rise from the muck and mire. Frankly neither, i.m.o. We just is what we is, say I : it's DNA, culture, a fat bit of chance, and then how we respond to all that bedevils us. But whether we blame God, blame Satan, blame the Church or just curse Fate when our lives go sideways, they're all just stories we're stickin' to.  

The Devil is in dreams & details. Scary propositions both.  David Cooper photo.

Set designer Brian Ball earns kudos for his church basement rendition replete with mac-tac exit door translucent stick-ons, praise Jesus posters and such. I could smell the must and mothballs of my home church back in the Midwest. Effective dramatic lighting by Jeff Harrison that accompanied James Coomber's electro-pop organ backdrop throughout. Meanwhile the BMO proscenium set was squished to the size of my old fave the G.I. Revue stage. Bravo! 

Acting pin-spots :  As Jason / Tyrone, Oliver Castillo left everyone in the house breathless with his constant role & voice switches with the devil affixed to his right arm. While occasionally the voice-flips overlapped, generally speaking a tour de force outing as complex as it was no doubt exhausting. As Mother Margery Stevens, Bard favourite Jennifer Lines' tempestuous, sexy, guilt-riven, shouty outing was her most expressive and compelling performance yet on Vancouver boards. Her seduction of the horny teen Timothy (Mike Gill) was even better than the football coach's wife Cloris Leachman doing Timothy Bottoms in that old classic The Last Picture Show. The Texan accents were a bit spotty-&-irregular tonite, as was the odd timing of some of the blood-spurty gore. But such are wee quibbles. 

Who gonna like : Hand of God will play best to folks who have not had a dose or two of Avenue Q first, I would say. The puppet-pornucopia bit works best as a surprise antic. It doesn't entertain as much when it's a been there, done that experience that comes off as derivative. Still, Hand of God is nothing if not a robust and raw and raucous riot of aggression and violent sexual urges let loose as comedy. Pinnochio has come a long way, baby, and if profanity and sacrilege are your thing, you won't want to miss the ride on this bucking bronco of a script that finds a loveable Satan who spit right smartly in my lapsed-Baptist eye. 

Particulars :  Script by Playwright Robert Askins. Produced by the Arts Club Theatre.  At the Goldcorp Stage, BMO Theatre Stage, 1st Avenue at Columbia. On until June 25, 2017. Run-time 110 minutes, including 20 minute intermission. Tickets & schedule information via www.artsclub.com or by phoning ACBO @ 604.687.1644.  

Production team :  Director Stephen Drover.  Set Designer Brian Ball.  LCostume Designer Ines Ortner.  Lighting Designer Jeff Harrison.  Sound Designer James Coomber.  Puppet Designer & Coach Jeny Cassady.  Stage Manager Angela Beaulieu.  Assistant Stage Manager Liz King.  Apprentice Stage Manager Koh McRadu.

Performers :  Oliver Castillo (Jason; Tyrone).  Mike Gill (Timothy).  Julie Leung (Jessica).  Jennifer Lines (Margery).  Shekhar Paleja (Pastor Greg).  

Outside Mullingar a fable that stretches our hearts

All the basic condition theatre requires is that fire last night &
those costumes & the human voice & people gathered together.  

Sir Trevor Nunn, Director (Cats, 1981 \ Les Miserables, 1985)

An Irish tale of two generations starring Ron Reed, John Emmet Tracy, Rebecca deBoer, & Erla Faye Forsyth.
Kayla Heselwood photo.

From the footlights :  Farm life in the Irish Midlands circa Y2K times. Life-long neighbours Rosemary Muldoon and Anthony Reilly are both spinsterish, he 42, she 35. Rosemary suppresses an abiding attraction for Anthony since they were kids despite the fact he knocked her down & broke her crown when she was but six. 

For his part Anthony not only hates the aching drudge of farming chores but comes off a bit daft as well. He's fagged and bored by each day's routines, though he performs his labours & burdens dutifully to keep the 120-year-old family place marginally sustainable. What he loves most, however, is hearing his fields talk to him. "Da" threatens to disinherit the unmarried, childless Anthony and offer the farm up to his American nephew Adam instead.

In the dim, blue murk of rain the talk is mostly melancholy stuff of loves lost, despond & death -- the yin opposite Irish-jigs-&-beer that are the country's defining yang. Sentiment being sentiment, however, we sense a happy ending in the making from this John Patrick Shanley script (remember his Moonstruck with Nick Cage & Cher?)

How it's all put together : The set-up toggles between a quick-tongued and belligerent Rose (Rebecca deBoer) swapping chit-chat while puffing her pipe out under the barn eaves with the dour, closed-off Anthony (John Emmet Tracy). "People don't appeal to me that much," he tells her. She flips back "That's normal. Who likes people? Nobody." A wee taste of Harold Pinter re-born a Celt in such exchanges. It is clear Rose & Anthony's trek to each other's heart will be more goat track than evergreen lane strewn with petals.

Tentative, skeptical life-long relations simmer slowly between farmers Rose & Anthony.
Kayla Heselwood photo.

Meanwhile in the farmhouse kitchen aging dad Tony (Ron Reed) muses over tea with Rebecca's mama Aoife (pron. EEfa) played by Erla Faye Forsyth. Given they just buried her husband Christopher,  it's obvious the measuring tape of life is nearing its final few millimetres for both of them, too. They ponder -- with wit-&-wonder (some call it blarney) -- just how soon their own life stories will continue only in someone's memory. A land-locked strip of disputed land threatens in any event to scuttle Tony's sell-the-farm plans.

When Rebecca learns of the potential disinheritance to the American relation wanting to find a wife on the Emerald Isle, she pounces. She seethes, storms, unleashes a torrent of sarcasm to match the near-constant rain around them. 

How does a happy ending emerge from such as this? Because it's the only alternative rom-com narratives ever offer up. And fitting divertissement in the chaotic, cynical times that confront us regardless of Mr. Shanley's benign but somewhat contrived script & characters. 

Tobacco in the rain for Rosemary is better than tea & sympathy inside. 

Kayla Heselwood photo.

Production values that shine through :  "For a moment, through the spell of storytelling, I had a home. I was Irish. And then the moment faded. That's how it is with writers. We keep getting evicted from our own imaginations. We are wanderers, dreaming, and then our dreams become real and push us out." So wrote 60-something poet cum playwright Shanley about Outside Mullingar in a New York Times squib in 2014.

At times I thought I was knee-deep in the world of fable and was put to mind of Zuangzi's famous butterfly dream and the riddle he posed : "Now I do not know if I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly or whether now I am a butterfly dreaming I am a man."

Shanley strives to tell a tale built on the lilt and lyrics of bucolic farm life in Ireland. He relies on stuff of life lived there as well as certain stage stereotypes. It is a fictional invention whose actors under director Angela Konrad drive the storyline inexorably forward to its self-obvious conclusion. 

Assisting mightily was the timepiece farmhouse kitchen set by Carolyn Rapanos that was choice and earthy. But it was the faux board-&-batten translucent barn wall lit up first with rain and thunderstorms, then a firmament of fake stars followed by bursts of sunlight as imagined and executed by Lauchlin Johnston that stole the show for visual effect and mood.

In Konrad's program Note, thus : "Even if we have never been to Ireland, our souls know this place. The fabled land casts a spell even while the commonness of the kitchen calls us us home."

Acting pin-spots : As noted above, the actors drive this script, not vice-versa as is often the case. Most of the dialogue is just that, the cast hived off into two's to tell their tales. Humour, irony, pathos, memory, the need for connectedness, the fear of intimacy, family feuds and forgiveness, a swack of "cracked" people looking up and wondering why-&-wherefore -- it's all there in a metaphorical Irish stew that is spicy and tasty and designed to please one's taste for poetic schmaltz.

Speaking of charm, this reviewer found Ron Reed as the Reilly patriarch Tony at the absolute pinnacle of his character-acting prowess, but Erla Faye Forsyth as Mama Aoife nipped niftily at his heels in chasing down Shanley's dialogue delights.

But of course the gist of the play is on the unrequited would-be, wannabe lovers. Act 2 is just them pursuing grace after their folks have bequeathed each of them their patch of mortal coil. Undiminished kudos to both Mr. Tracy as Anthony and Ms. DeBoer as Rosemary for gesticulation, stage business and dialogue dynamics that they obviously possess inherently but were magnified so creatively and imaginatively under the guiding hand of Director Konrad. 

Who gonna like : Outside Mullingar is a rom-com, no doubt, but less a drama than a tone poem, a paean to the idylls and charms of an imagined bucolic inland isle. There are kindred pockets geographically here in B.C., no question, but not the heritage component and idiosyncratic stereotypes European olde sodde provides.

These characters created by playwright Shanley work their way into our hearts because they breathe : genuine hopes and pain and loss and bewilderment are central to each of them. Which is way more than can be said for 95% of t.v. or cinema fare these days. For a momentary embrace of such emotions and values, Outside Mullingar is precisely the ticket you need to punch.

Particulars.  At Pacific Theatre, 12th @ Hemlock. Performances until June 10th.  Schedules and tickets contact the Box Office @ 604.731.5518 -or- online @ the Pacific Theatre website.

Production crew. Written by John Patrick Stanley.  Directed by Angela Konrad.  Set Designer Carolyn Rapanos.  Costume Designer Sabrina Evertt.  Lighting Designer Lauchlin Johnston.  Sound Designer Julie Casselman.  Properties Manager Jenny Jantsch.  Stage Manager Linzi Both.  Assistant Stage Manager Jess Garden.  Dialect Coach Adam Lane Bergquist. 

Actors :  Rebecca DeBoer (Rosemary).  Erla Faye Forsyth (Aoife).  Ron Reed (Tony).  John Emmet Tracy (Anthony). 

-30-

Million Dollar Quartet rocks a concert of Wow!

All the basic condition theatre requires is that fire last night &
those costumes & the human voice & people gathered together.  

Sir Trevor Nunn, Director (Cats, 1981 \ Les Miserables, 1985)

Jonas Shandel (Johnny Cash), Steven Greenfield (Jerry Lee Lewis), Kale Penny (Carl Perkins)
and Erik Fraser Gow (Elvis Presley) are the lyric crazy showboaters front-&-centre in M$Q.          
David Cooper photo.

From the footlights : M$Q starts here : a jukebox musical about Sun Records. Which was a boutique recording label owned by Sam Phillips in Memphis. Phillips had Carl Perkins as a mainstay recording artist. On December 4, 1956 Phillips had arranged to have Perkins meet another rising young talent from cotton-pickin' country, Jerry Lee Lewis. Oh yeah. And a couple other of Sun Records musicians were expected to wander by just for hellry -- Elvis Presley & Johnny Cash.

And they did. But they didn't spend the afternoon jamming all their greatest hits the way this Colin Escott & Floyd Mutrux script does. Reportedly they mostly strummed-&-hummed-&-keyboarded a bunch of folk tunes and church-inspired gospel spirituals. 

But a folk / gospel re-do of that remarkable pre-Xmas '56 afternoon wouldn't put butts in Y2K live theatre seats, Escott and Mutrux knew. So not surprisingly what M$Q brings is a night of spirited rockin' shout-outs of the Hit Parade chart-toppers that everyone who loved that epoch will hoot-&-holler-&-standing-o to. 

Mid-50's rockamania is what Million Dollar Quartet is all about.
               David Cooper photo.

How it's all put together : The show kicks off with the company rousing the crowd with Perkin's iconic Blue Suede Shoes that Elvis "stole" from him and made famous in '56 : I was in Grade 6, had a pair of Buster Brown b.s.s.'s my older sisters insisted Mom buy for me -- and Yes! everyone took great delight to step on 'em. 

Next come a host of hits between explanatory monologues spliced in by Phillips (Graham Coffeng) that tie together the Sun Records' mottled story + the history of how he met & nurtured these lads one-on-one, song-by-song. Also some requisite Aw shucks! nitter-natter and wee-jealousy fits between ongoing feast of guitar, piano, bass and drum riffs the Sun Studio group puts out. 

But no question it's the cuts themselves chosen by Mutrux-&-Escott that steal the night : Folsom Prison Blues; Long Tall Sally; Great Balls of Fire; Hound Dog; Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On! -plus- Elvis's ostensible girl friend named Dyanne (Lauren Jackson) doing Peggy Lee's torch song Fever as well as pop singer Gale Storm's cover of I Hear You Knockin' to add some welcome sex appeal.

Steven Greenfield as Jerry Lee Lewis is the antic centrepiece in much of M$Q's music tribute.  
David Cooper photo.

What the show brings to the stage :  It's the selection of songs that explains the who / what / why / where / when & how of these unassuming ultra-gifted fellows fetched up in Dixie's fly-over-America. How they came to show off all the juice-&-joy-&-jam that set the rock-n-roll stage.

From Elvis's hip-swivel style to Lewis's manic gymnastic keyboarding to Cash's raw jailhouse stuff. On to Bo Diddley to Chuck Berry to Little Richard to Roy Orbison to the heartbreaking Feb. 3, 1959 Clear Lake, Iowa plane crash martyr squadron of Buddy Holly and Ritchie Valens and Big Bopper J. P. Richardson and all the "Bye, Bye Miss American Pie \ The day the music died" wannabes who've entertained us ever since.  

Suffice to remind readers of the famous Sir Paul McCartney tribute to what Sun Records brought the world : "If there had never been a Carl Perkins there would never have been the Beatles."

Not much purpose in detailing how Phillips had to sell Elvis's Sun Records contract to RCA in New York to stay afloat financially. Or how Johnny's expiring Sun contract & crescendoing hits would catapult him from humble Memphis to Columbia Records in Nashville. How crushed Sam Phillips (Graham Coffeng) was at the news. [The script tends toward tedious on this topic.] Here's a peek at what makes the show sparkle.

Production values that shine through :  At the hands of veterans, Ted Roberts' Sun Studio set with Gerald King's rock concert lighting make every square inch of the Stanley's 75-foot proscenium explode with colour and vibrancy. Add the musical staging by Valerie Easton's invariably deft and creative hand. She moves the lads up down over-&-around the set and one another -- not to mention atop their pet instruments as well. What you get are visual effects that are grabby and sure and constant.

Acting pin-spots :  The challenge for any director in staging the Escott/Mutrux book is to find actors who approximate the characters whose youthful, brash & ambitious souls they are trying to imitate in song. 

Jerry Lee Lewis (Steven Greenfield) was colloquially known as "Killer", famous for jumping all over his piano, sitting and standing on it, kicking the keys with his feet, playing them behind his back. "The motherthumpiest piano player you ever did see!" he chortles. Greenfield must have watched countless YouTube out-takes to master the act as he does. (His malignant, anarchist carrot-top hair was pure hoot to watch doing its thing trying to keep up with his gyroantics.)

As Johnny Cash -- "The Man in Black" -- Jonas Shandel evinces all the baritone/bass nuances from the range of gospel, folk, country & rock influences Cash was so good at delivering. He also convinced us, sort of, about his torn Christian soul troubling itself whether all of this irreverent shin-dig stuff was perhaps the Devil's doing. 

Elvis's uptempo style was often known as "hillbilly bop". And though EP hated the nickname of the day "Elvis the Pelvis", Erik Fraser Gow pulled off many of his moves remarkably well. (His pompadour hairpiece was less a good match.)

For his part Carl Perkins (Kale Penny) was known for his blues vamp touches. Phillips calls him the Father of Rockabilly. Loved his gabardine slacks. Kind of matched his Sun Studio stage persona at times.

From my perspective, meanwhile, Lauren Jackson as Elvis' squeeze Dyanne came close to stealing the limelight from the wildly effervescent Greenfield as Lewis and from Shandel who was "closest to the real thing" in his cut at Cash. Jackson maintained her perky, snappy, chipper personality throughout and had rich pipes to boot. Pure engaging charm in her crisp red dress atop timely petticoats six feet across.

Who gonna like : Greg Lake of the band EL&P once said "The human voice is a matter of the expression of passion in the understanding of the human condition." Synonyms for passion include such feelings as zeal, rage, craving, anger, hunger, yearning, gusto, frenzy, and zest. These are the qualities of early rock-&-roll that struck deep into our hearts and souls back then, do now. Powerful but simple stuff, not cynical in the least.

Got rhythm? Got a jones for genuine rock tunes? Want just plain fun music to cheer you and make you clap loudly and whistle and cheer? No question at all : Best bang for the buck in sheer fun, sport-&- amusement since ACT's Black-&-Gold Revue from 30 years back.

I usually don't gush-gush, but this is a Do! Not! Miss! musical stage event in Vancouver for folks who love this heart-pumping music, folks who now and then hanker for the simpler more innocent times that once were and won't likely come this way again.

N.B. Addendum : Special note must be made of Todd Biffard's turn as the show's sessional drummer. Late small-club jazz impresario Ted McCann used to aver there are two kinds of drummers in bands : those who are wood-choppers and those who finesse the skins instead. "Drummer!" was the first word I wrote on my notepad as the show opened. Without a doubt Mr. Biffard is the best I have ever seen or heard in a Vancouver stage musical. Finesse? Completely exquisitely so. A large part of my Wow! from this musical feast.

Particulars :  Produced by Arts Club Theatre.  At Stanley Industrial Alliance Stage.  On until July 9.  Run-time 90 minutes plus intermission.  Tickets & schedule information via www.artsclub.com or by phoning 604.687.1644.  Original concept & direction Floyd Mutrux.  Book by Colin Escott & Floyd Mutrux.

Production team :  Bill Millerd, Director.  Zachary Stevenson, Musical Director.  Valerie Easton, Musical Staging.  Ted Roberts, Set Designer.  Barbara Clayden, Costume Designer.  Gerald King, Lighting Designer.  Caryn Feher, Stage Manager.  Ronaye Haynes, Assistant Stage Manager.

Performers :  Mathew J. Baker (Brother Jay, based on Carl's brother Clayton, on bass).  Jonas Shandel (Johnny Cash).  Lauren Jackson (Dyanne E. Girlfriend).  Todd Biffard (W. S. 'Fluke' Holland) on drums.  Steven Greenfield (Jerry Lee Lewis).  Kale Penny (Carl Perkins).  Graham Coffeng (Sam Phillips).  Erik Fraser Gow (Elvis Presley).  

-30-

End of the Rainbow engages our ear & heart

All the basic condition theatre requires is that fire last night &

those costumes & the human voice & people gathered together.  

Sir Trevor Nunn, Director (Cats, 1981 \ Les Miserables, 1985)

Judy Garland's last show in London -- a meteor just months from flaming out. 
Ryan Crocker photo.

From the footlights : ACE Productions steals directly from NYT's critic Ben Brantley (April 2, 2012) to describe their Jericho Arts Centre show that tells the tale of Judy Garland's last days : " 'She had perilous bipolar energy that so often animates great performers. Touch this woman at your own risk. She burns... Every chapter of Garland's history is alive : she is foul-mouthed, flirtatious, erotic, childlike, unedited, manipulative and supremely self-conscious as she makes love and war' with her keepers."

Two principal men join Janet Gigliotti doing Judy in this Peter Quilter script directed by Claude Giroux. As the world recently witnessed with supernova singer Amy Winehouse, when a comet burns up in what began as a stratospheric arc, the results are at once breathtaking and extremely sad, too. 

Making Garland into a believable and tragic figure -- a woman trying for renasence and redemption though at 46 she was notoriously past her prime & a pill-popping drunk -- this is the wee challenge ACE Productions accepted when they bought this script. The show's events happened many moons ago. Why should we care in light of today's world?

How it's all put together :  Rainbow focuses not only on Judy but on her latest husband, a youthful Mickey Deans (Jeffrey Hoffman) who is her manager, ringmaster and enabler. Her piano accompaniest Anthony Chapman (Gordon Roberts) is Garland's sympathetic sounding board, lit.-&-fig., who tries to rescue Judy from both herself and from Deans.

The scenes toggle between London's Talk of The Town nite club where Garland's Last Stand took place in December 1968 and the hotel room where she repaired, so to speak, nightly. It is in the claustrophobic confines of that hotel room that the struggles among the characters pose the great existential question : to what extent is anyone their own creator / destroyer -vs- what contextual forces contribute fatefully and fatally to one's life course? 

What the show brings to the stage : The comparison to Amy Winehouse is on purpose. Anyone who hears, today, her cover of "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?" or "Tears Dry On Their Own" can't squelch the ache that such raw but chiseled beauty should have killed itself off, in her case at rock's magic death-age, 27.

"Trolley Song", "The Man That Got Away", and of course "Over The Rainbow" are all vintage Garland charts that Gigliotti riffs off with energy and grace and foreshadowing of Garland's impending implosion from an overdose just six months after the London gig.

Production values that shine : The set by director Giroux is a clever "overdub" of a junior suite at Picadilly's Circus's Ritz Hotel atop Bernard Delfont's Talk of the Town night club formerly located at Leicester Square's Hippodrome a few blocks away. The baby grand was plunked capably and entertainingly by Gordon Roberts, with nice subtle support by the duo of Matthew Simmons on bass and a delightfully understated Colin Parker on snare.

Lighting effects by Stephen Bulat were effective, though the blackouts and chiaroscuro fade-outs between night club and hotel scenes were at times unnecessarily longish.

One slightly off-key half-note. While Tiffany Bishop's threads for characters Mickey Deans and Anthony Chapman were spot-on for their roles and the times, fact is Judy Garland was famous for her outlandish and effervescent costumes to match her personality. Doing Janet Gigliotti up in a series of LBD's with scarves didn't much match memory.

Acting pin-spots : Ms. Gigliotti is a voice to be reckoned. Strong and lyrical for many of the charts she performed, she was also capable of great subtlety, finesse and nuance. Her rendition of "Come Rain or Come Shine" brought on unbidden tears. And her final short-stanza cut of "Over The Rainbow" melted hearts the room through.

The only "complaint" might be that she wasn't slurry and hicuppy and cracked-voice enough to match these final concerts by Garland (see Addendum), though her stage blocking imparted those effects well for each post-concert Ritz scene.

Aside from his charming Elton John keyboard moments, Gordon Roberts' best scene in the show had to be his plea to Garland to come away with him and become his "love" in Brighton instead of marrying Mickey Deans. The touchingness of this due to the fact that his character Anthony was the composite gay representing how popular Judy was with that entire community, particularly in California, in her day. He promised to hunt up johns for Judy at the end of the Brighton pier when she got horny.

Who gonna like : The question posed above "Why should we care in light of today's world?" is answered, simply, because this script tells a tale of compulsion and traps and pitfalls that have universal appeal. And the music of Judy Garland to boot.

The Quilter script engages because it captures the dynamic of a wizard (!) stage personality. But one, alas, borne of a life of drugs begun as a grammar school kid whose mom wanted her to make it in Hollywood with 05:00 curtain calls. Ritalin was the go-to favourite because as I remember it from college it delightfully focuses the memory and truly helps keep one awake [36 consecutive hours once for me]. But then Secanol is Ritalin's alter ego, the drug that Garland ultimately used to kill herself in June 1969 (via 10X the recommended daily dosage).

This is, to quote a friend met at today's show, "not the usual musical we are accustomed to". No. It is a drama of personal crisis and demise that touches the heart. It also features a swack of concert pieces made famous by Garland that utterly please the ear. No Cats or Mama Mia!, this is small-stage musical intimacy the will engage and embrace and, wonderfully, sadden you just long enough to demonstrate what a dramatic delight it truly is.

Particulars :  Produced at Jericho Arts Centre, 1675 Discovery Street, Vancouver. Until May 20. Tickets & schedule information 1.800.838.3006.  Online tix @ brownpapertickets.com. Run-time two hours including intermission. 

Production team : Director Claude Giroux.  Musical Director Gordon Roberts.  Stage Manager Nico Dicecco.  Set Designer Claude Giroux.  Costume Designer Tiffany Bishop.  Lighting / Sound Designer Stephen Bulat.  Set Construction Michael Smith, John Hutchinson, Mike Lord, Peter Dunsford.  Scenic Painter Athena Ivison.  Technical Director Stephen Bulat.  Lighting Operator Nico Dicecco.  Props Janice Howell. Photography Ryan Crocker.  Poster & Graphic Design Andrew Johnstone. Publicity Maryanne Renzetti.

Performers : Janet Gigliotti (Judy Garland).  Jeffrey Hoffman (Mickey Deans).  Gordon Roberts (Anthony Chapman).  Matthew Simmons (Porter/Interviewer/ASM).  Colin Parker (Drummer).

Musicians :  Gordon Roberts (Piano).  Matthew Simmons (Bass).  Colin Parker (Drums).

Addendum :y

December, 1968 reviews in London press

[media sources not named]

By James Green

Judy Garland's London cabaret debut last night at the Talk of the Town was part happening, part experience, and all nostalgia.

Predictably the nervy and restless Miss Garland, so slim and boyish at 46 she might have been Peter Pan, turned in a raw emotion-packed powerhouse performance.

Here and there the voice cracked noticably and the notes were ragged. She herself said before sitting cross-legged on the stage and singing Over the Rainbow "I may croak a bit."

She did. But its's the 12,480th time she's sung it and it still gets homage.

There was standing room only before she came out, and a mood of instant hysteria among an audience determined to clap itself silly. 

It applauded the overture.Gave a big hand for the curtains. A few bars of the wedding march and it would have weeped.

Soon-to-be-wed Miss Garland finally appeared in a bronze Beau Brummell trouser suit alive with sequins and gold beads.

She straightaway threw her heart to the mob - Ginger Rogers, Zsa Zsa Gabour, Danny La Rue and Johnny Ray among them - while belting out "I belong to London".

MAGNETIC

An hour later she left to a rave reception with the reminder "A Londoner I'll always be." It was kisses and squeals, schmaltz and worship, sugar and syrup.

"We love you Judy," cried the faithful, "And I love you," came the response.

It was that kind of night. She sang 12 of the songs that make her Judy Garland and treated it as a private party.

She pretended not to remember or care what came next and laughed at herself with lines like: "I haven't learned a new song since Covered Wagon.Not since andy Hardy met Deanna Durbin. Now what do we do?"

Plus a show stopping: "I've been through a lot. People ask 'Is she going to appear? Is she dead?' Well I'm here and you couldn't keep me away."

MAGIC

She has personality-plus, and if the voice has taken a beating she can wake up the town with songs like Just in Time, Rock-a-bye, The Trolley Song and You Made Me Love You.

Judy still has punch. She has the star quality, magnetism and confidence to bend the rules and indulge herself with an undisciplined take it or leave it act.

They took it - and shouted for more. Like it or not her standard dabbling in emotions and nerve ends, she is what the business is about.

She may no longer be the little girl crying for the rainbow...the voice may waver and the notes come harder...show business may eat it's young...but the formerFrances Ethel Gumm retains most of the magic given her by the wizard of Oz.

Yes Judy Garland is alive and well and queening it in London.

Judy's Great Artistry Triumphs

By Andy Gray

Singers with artistry have a great advantage - when their voices starts to go their artistry remains. Hat's off to the greatest singing artist of them all - Judy Garland, who can still hit the big note to end "Rockabye" and bring the house down.

It was excitement all the way at the Talk Of The Town on Monday, what with a legal battle raging to see if it would be a one-night stand or a 5-week season for her (it's a season and a hooray for de Judge). But after the Talk orchestra, under Burt Rhodes baton had played for quite a while and no Judy appeared one wondered if she was going to.

(She even cracked later : "Something extrordinary for me...not only have I appeared, but I am singing a new song." This was all about having a whale of a time at night and to hell with the morning).

She did make an entrance eventually in the sparkling, bejewelled organy suit, looking slimmer than I ever have seen her with a leprechaun haircut and green scarf round her neck.

For one hour she alternately bowed in thanks for the great reception she got, sang with concentration and dithered about between numbers asking Bert what came next and overdoing the 'relaxed' bit. But we all loved her. Her "I belong to London" was a bit goo-ey, but we believed her, and standards like "Man that got away", "Trolley Song", "Chicago" and "Over the Rainbow" were all socko hits.

For a breather, she coaxed Danny La Rue on-stage and he plugged his chart-maker, "On Mother Kelley's Doorstep," with Judy joining in. The tune has stayed with me ever since, along with the memory that Judy is a great artist and we're so happy paid us all a call.

Judy: Still on the way to Oz

By Ray Connolly

Last night Judy Garland appeared at the Talk Of the Town - and if I pay scant attention to her trembling uncontrolled vibrato, and flat, cracked notes it is because her appeal to the audience last night did not rely on singing ability. Her voice is not the world's greatest, but this hardly detracts from a remarkable performance. To have mentioned it at all seems rather an unkind irrelevancy.

Last night her audience (the biggest I've ever seen at the Talk of The Town) was ecstatic. She didn't need to be able to sing, and in fact, she didn't overwork on that particular score. It was enough that she could scamble through that remarkably melodic bunch of songs with which she is associated - The Man That Got Away, Rock-a-Bye, You Made Me Love You, etc.

RIVETING

And yet I must admit she is truly a riveting entertainer. Now 47 she is still Dorothy on the way to Oz: still the little girl packed with spirit and fighting her way against some enormous odds: still an explosive compound of pathos, self mockery, guts and comedy. She bawls, she totters, she does a mocking little tap dance, and she struts and marches - all arched back and flaying arms like some very grand principal boy in her sequined Pearly Queen trouser suit.

"They tell me I'm a legend." she quips , and it is not for us to question how or why she should have attracted such a reputation. She has, and it is only in this context that it is now useful to regard her.

During a remarkable performance of flying kisses and jokes for her stageside enthusiasts, she dragged Danny La Rue up to give us a song ("I know it's my night - but I'm tired"), used her M.D; Burt Rhodes, as a straight man for her frequent and lengthy comic asides, and generally gave an impression of complete disorientation.

To say that she played to her gallery would be to do her constant rapport with her army of devotees less than justice, and to complain that much of her bewteen songs dialogue was indistinct and confusing would be to miss the point of her appeal. It is precisely this gloriously defiant pathos which is the character of her charisma.

The climax of the ritual was , of course, Somewhere Over The Rainbow, which she sang quietly sitting cross-legged on the floor under a single shaft of spotlight.

It always was a great song.....

Danny La Rue makes an unexpected stage appearance!

By John Denison

Ray Connolly's thoroughly on-target appreciation of Judy Garland's extraordinary talent [December 31] should be required reading for everyone who thinks they know what show business is all about.

I remember Hollywood's Roger Edens (who guided Judy through her biggest movie successess as her musical arranger) saying that really only three stars could create such magic with an audience in this centuary. In his opinion they were Al Jolson, Ethel Merman and Miss Garland.

THe opening Monday proved to so many of us that he was probably right- this girl is still something to marvel at.

To Danny La Rue must surely go full marks for his handling of an unexpected on-stage appearance - something which could have easily mis-fired and particularly under the circumstances which would have defeated many a "professional".

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