Godspell

The reliance of a production’s success on the people behind it is never more apparent that in a work like Godspell. The book by John Michael Tebelak offers no narrative tension to hide behind; the music and lyrics by Stephen Schrwatz have entered the canon of musical theater classics — a lot for any cast to live up to. Thus, the ten onstage performers of The Encore Musical Theatre Company’s production, as well as director Dan Cooney, have no one but themselves to credit for a vivacious piece of entertainment. Focusing on the tight ensemble and infectious energy of the followers of Jesus, this show is notable for driving its well-hewn story by mood alone.

“Nonspecific” is the name of the game in this telling: set designer Leo Babcock’s architectural details suggest an artfully decrepit abandoned theater, which is inhabited by a small band of ardent believers in the word of God (according to the Gospel of Matthew, upon which the piece is based). The players’ strong and immediate convictions are manifest in make-do, dress-up playfulness (costumes by Sharon Larkey Urick) and space-filling spectacle (assisted by lighting designer Daniel Walker) to match their imaginative explorations of faith. Time period, circumstance, and relationship are inconsequential to this telling; it’s a risky proposition rewarded by the unblemished strength of the ensemble. The approach is helped in no small part by the strong illusion of the first time, drawing the viewer into a string of nonlinear discoveries that appear to be at least half as fun to perform as to watch.

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M 5

Planet Ant Theatre’s commitment to new works was never in question: its monthly Ant Farm staged reading series has previously shepherded new scripts to successful full productions. However, M 5 marks the first time the company’s late-night series has been specifically earmarked to showcase favorite Ant Farm selections. Helmed by director Sara Wolf Molnar and with a capable quartet of comic performances, this original show feels like an ode to the short play — that is to say, something rich and strange.

All five scripts (“Mile High,” by Leah Darany; “The Little Things” and “Homeland Security,” both by Audra Lord; “Mother,” by Jacquie Priskorn; and “Bloody iPhone,” by Marty Shea and Ian Bonner) are brief enough to tuck into a single act, barely skimming an hour’s running time. Each bears the brand of preposterousness that serves as the quirky signature of a short-form comedy, although the devices and executions vary. Against the elaborate setup leading to a swift roundhouse punchline, for example, is a slow-burning monologue of increasing perturbation. Whereas one play roots into the comic possibilities of forced conversation amid sustained discomfort, another gets its framework out of the way in a staccato of short establishing scenes. Strengths and weaknesses show in the writing for each, but the end product amasses into a kaleidoscope of the form’s overall potential.

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Speed-the-Plow

Few playwrights fling as much malice toward women as does David Mamet. Yet his plays generally revile them from a male point of view, rarely capitalizing on the ugliness that can manifest between women — especially in the workplace, where codified inferiority and perceived competition breeds more adversaries than allies. Now, director Joe Bailey takes a radically different tactic with an all-female version of Mamet’s Speed-the-Plow. With biting performances that nurture curious discoveries, this swaggering one-act Hollywood fable at the Ringwald hungrily gnaws at the vituperative potential of a bitch-eat-bitch world.

The story — as intact as the names in this telling — provides just enough context for the various characters to bounce their principles and egos off each other. As Bobby Gould (Jamie Warrow) luxuriates in her first day as head of production at a major Hollywood studio, her “courtesy read” of a tedious novel is interrupted by the room-filling combustion of longtime associate Charlie Fox (Leah Smith). Charlie is armed with a bankable script, an unattainable star attached, and a 24-hour window in which to ink the deal; the two speak each other’s language well enough to know this is a career-making project. The ecstatic celebration between executive and sycophant eventually ropes in the timidly dewy Kathy (Kelly Rossi), Bobby’s temp assistant and a clear outsider whose childish scruples seem laughably out of place. Some combination of Kathy’s frankness and her eagerness to please makes Bobby hand over the novel, and what follows is a rollercoaster of shifting attentions and questions about what a person’s work says about her.

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Fiction

Complacent audiences conflate story with truth. Backed by history and storytelling rules, it’s a generally acceptable expectation (there’s a murder, the butler did it, he eventually confesses); it’s why reversals that upend the very foundations of storytelling remain so effective. However, in reality, truth is a flawed continuum for which story is an imperfect stand-in: this is where Steven Dietz’s Fiction thrives. In this Tipping Point Theatre production directed by James R. Kuhl, the viewer is guided along an unusual journey, in which the complex relationship between storyteller and audience is illuminated with intellectual curiosity and visceral connection through the lens of one marriage.

The rollicking squabble between Walter (Aaron H. Alpern) and Linda (Julia Glander) that opens the play turns out to be their first meeting; the scene is followed by present-day narration that succinctly introduces a broken-timeline structure and well-deployed editorializing. In the present, they have been married twenty years, both have since become published novelists of fluctuating acclaim, and they have just learned that Linda has an inoperable brain tumor and mere weeks to live. Among her last wishes are for her husband to read her private journals after she dies — and to read his in return, with the time she has left. Together, Glander and Alpern cultivate a uniquely quirky rapport that speaks to their shared competitive profession and highly refined respect for each other’s privacy; both are possessed of warmth and wit that bring wry humor and vexing immediacy to a loving but fractious relationship tested by strife.

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Spreading it Around

People work hard their whole lives, they provide for themselves and whoever depends on them, and the lucky ones live long enough to reap the ultimate reward: griping about their ungrateful children. Playwright Londos D’Arrigo takes the thankless-generation cynicism to the extreme in Spreading it Around, a farce that makes no bones about glorifying its acerbic outlook. Meadow Brook Theatre now gives the comedy its Michigan premiere, which director Travis W. Walter ensconces in broad, unmistakable exaggerations that aptly complement an outlandish premise.

The phrase “gated community” need only be repeated so many times before a certain level of financial comfort is successfully evoked, and the distinctively lush surroundings of this cavernous residence leave no room for doubt. New-construction anonymity and untouched, impractical, match-y furniture and décor are the signature of set designer Brian Kessler’s concise sold-everything-and-retired-to-Florida story. Lighting by Reid G. Johnson grounds a soaring ceiling with overhead fixtures and gives loving glimpses of the sunny outdoors. Sound design by Mike Duncan turns tunes of a certain age into a peppy grab bag blending tropical and materialistic. The concept is unified by a playfully pervasive visual theme, which rewards attentive viewers with its thorough application and charming Easter-egg surprises.

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