Shoulder to the Wheel

There's a certain bravado on display in director/compiler Lyndsay Michalik's Shoulder to the Wheel; even her program notes have a daring assertiveness, deferring description of what the play is about until she explains what it is [emphasis hers]. And here, in an assortment of scenes and pieces purported to weave a tapestry of American life and culture, this confidence proves to be quite at home.

Michalik's eight ensemble performers take the construction-zone stage for vignettes ranging from heartfelt monologues to abstract juxtaposition to joyous group dances. With original material from fourteen writers, we spend little time with any single perspective, which gave me the disappointing impression of a shallow overview. Presented with a fractured assortment of one-off and briefly recurring characters, I was forced to take the long view, and in so doing realized that these uniquely American points of view were primarily united in being loud, self-assured, and helplessly indulgent. Brought into sharp focus by an expatriate character — who herself cannot help betraying shades of the Ugly American she supposedly abhors — the play wants to convince us that there are a lot of right ways to be American, but unintentionally reinforces how much Americans like to be right.

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Snowbound

There are some who like intense drama, who enjoy nothing more than to leave a theater feeling devastated. Others like a brief show, without those pesky intermissions. Margaret Edwartowski's new Snowbound, the latest in the Planet Ant late night series, proves one doesn't have to choose. Clocking in at just under an hour, this period piece rapidly piles on one unnavigable decision after the other, mistakes that accumulate to an inevitable but searing conclusion.

In late-1870 Colorado, what remains of the Adler family is preparing for — and fearing — another winter in isolation. However, this isn't a story of human perseverance; a sense of foreboding runs throughout, and death seems to be the only possible outcome unless they uproot themselves and move closer to the city. With the weather constantly looming, timing is everything, and on-the-spot decisions are often regretful and irreconcilable — leading to more impossible split-second choices. We spend little time with these characters; the scenes are almost like snapshots, but under director Michael Carnow, the detail and clarity of what unfolds more than makes up for its brevity.

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Act Your Wage: The Pink Slip and Fall of an Automotive CEO

Having missed Kwame a River and Kwame a River 2: The Wrath of Conyers, the highly lauded predecessors to Andiamo Novi's latest installment in the local-spoof canon, I have no basis of comparison for Act Your Wage: The Pink Slip and Fall of an Automotive CEO. This 60-minute comedy attempts to lampoon greedy, inept auto executives, a topic in which Southeast Michigan has been actively entrenched for months upon months, but shies away from openly mocking; the resulting vague and allegoric premise — albeit mixed in with some great bits — is tepid where it might have scorched.

Fittingly for a production on a former Second City stage, Act Your Wage is strikingly similar to a Second City revue, with a bare set, jump-cuts and other familiar scenic devices, nods to audience suggestions, and a handful of musical numbers. Yet this production puts story first, requiring expository and transitional scenes that aren't always funny; moreover, the story itself is pretty messy. CEO loses job, loses car, loses wife, is briefly introduced to how the other half lives (supposedly in order to "gain perspective," a eureka moment that never quite materializes), panics about money, flails about for a new job, and finds his calling just in time for the finale. Themes are embraced, then put on hold for another narrative thread. The script can't decide whether it wants to deliver a coherent story or just string together as many hilarious scenes as possible, and instead falls short of both.

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Happy Season to You, Acquaintance Name

Christmas fatigue is not an acceptable excuse to pass on Happy Season to You, Acquaintance Name. Although this Abreact comedy was originally slated for a December run, the story is more about office politics than Yuletide anything — the holiday setting is primarily a heightening device. It stands to reason that if being snowed in at the office is bad, then being snowed in at the office on Christmas Eve is a special form of torture.

It's supposed to be the last day at work for Jason (Travis Grand), but after manager Bonnie (Michelle Becker) forces him and the few remaining employees to wait out their shifts despite the bad weather, the whole gang is stuck indefinitely with no one but a new young security guard to protect — or unintentionally menace — them. The players are confined to the employee break room, a dreary little place carefully appointed with touches of banality any office worker will appreciate. (Thanks to whoever butchered the "Youre Mother Doesnt Work Hear" notice and hung near-identical posters of waterfalls, one labeled SERENITY and the other SERVICE, expertly setting the tone.)

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If Only In My Dreams

A revised performance schedule almost caused me to miss If Only In My Dreams. Instead, I found myself at what had become the last performance in the Blackbird Theatre's longtime home. A mere two actors, Barton Bund and William Myers, gave the place not just a marvelous sendoff, but a cool and challenging take on a Christmas play.

If Only In My Dreams is a collection of four short stories and novel excerpts, told by their authors (Bund and Myers tackle two writers each). The set for this production is scaled way back; in fact, the open space, corner bar, and mismatched furniture evoked a Christmas-decorated basement. With very little to look at, and a single performer onstage at a time, the challenge of this production is earning and keeping an audience's attention, and Bund and Myers exceeded my expectations.

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