Review: Justin Vivian Bond

This show was intended to be called “Justin Vivian Bond is Regifted,” but somewhere between the time when Bond sent v’s title and blurb to the Joe’s Pub office and the time the tickets were printed, some device somewhere “auto-corrected” the title to “Justin Vivian Bond is Refrigerated.” JVB figured “well, the tickets have been printed,” kinda liked the title, and thought it wouldn’t take much to move the show in that direction. One of the adjustments v made was to open with a passionate version of Annie Lennox’s “Cold,” setting up the “fire and ice” dynamic that has always been JVB’s wheelhouse.

The legendary Kiki & Herb Christmas shows of yore were full of vitriol and blasphemy. More love than vitriol now (though when v touches on a subject worth the vitriol, v doesn’t hold back), and an end to blaspheming in favor of something more spiritually positive: Bond now puts v’s own pagan ambivalence about Christmas at the heart of the show. For instance there’s a dark little medley celebrating the winter solstice, dedicated to Judy Collins.

The musical backing from Matt Ray on piano, Nath Ann Carrera on guitar and Claudia Chopek on violin is sophisticated and rich. There’s nothing particularly jazzy about the arrangements – if anything they are redolent of folk rock and chamber pop – but there is a powerful sense of improvisational give and take.

Bond is one of the most original and potent performers of our time, whom I think everybody should see at least once. Or more often – there’s something new and freshly rewarding about every single performance.

For tickets, click here.

To learn about Jonathan Warman’s directing work, see jonathanwarman.com.

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Review: Lady Bunny

Once upon a time, Lady Bunny lip-synched her own voice for her song parodies, both medleys and single-song versions but now she does them live. It’s skipping a step and she’s actually a somewhat soulful singer, so this arrangement works well. She’s even writing some original stuff, a jazz song, even! Okay, so it’s called “I Gave Head to Mr. Ed,” but still!

Of course for her famous, zany Laugh-In style routines, she still lip-synchs and there was a number where she performed the thoughts expressed in her voice-over, but didn’t actually mouth the words. This “Lady” doesn’t put limits on what she’s going to say or do in her new cabaret act “Pig In A Wig” – one of the great charms of this show is its spontaneity.

Bunny is one of the smartest drag queens ever, even if the majority of her act is a steady stream of dick and poop jokes. She’s a powerful presence who also posses a terrific sense of when to keep it light. Girl knows just how to milk it!

She never stays in one mode for too long, and while she might go all stream of consciousness at certain points, she never quite seems to ramble. The Lady isn’t afraid of sentiment, but she’s not sappy – It’s a terrific balance, and probably the only way you could tell these on the edge jokes in a way that’s funny rather that truly offensive. She’s an energetic, mostly-for-the-laughs winner – definitely the funniest gay show in town!

For tickets, click here.

To learn about Jonathan Warman’s directing work, see jonathanwarman.com.

Review: The Prom

Brooks Ashmanskas is The Prom‘s shining star. After decades of being a comic scene-stealer in roles that ranged from ensemble to supporting, he finally has a lead role, and boy does he make the most of it. Oh, he’s still the comic scene-stealer, even up against such expert competition as Christopher Sieber and Beth Leavel (Leavel was out sick the night I went, her understudy Kate Marilley chewed the scenery with a fervor that would have made Beth proud – Marilley’s one to watch for sure). But in the character of Barry Glickman, the authors of The Prom have given Ashmanskas a role with a touch more depth, giving him a chance to show all his gifts.

As The Prom opens, Glickman is co-starring with diva Dee Dee Allen (Leavel / Marilley) in Eleanor! A musical about Eleanor Roosevelt. They find out at the opening night party that the reviews mean the show will close for sure, and they drown their sorrows with chorus gal Angie (Angie Schworer) and out-of-work pretentious Julliard grad Trent Oliver (Seiber). When these theater relics hear that young lesbian Emma (Caitlin Kinnunen) is being excluded from a small-town Indiana prom – and the press is shining a spotlight on it – they know that it’s time to get involved, and grab a little of that spotlight for themselves while they’re at it. As a t-shirt available at the merch table says, they’re out to “kick-ball-change the world.”

The spine of The Prom is the growing friendship between Glickman and Emma, bonding over what being oppressed queers does to you – it’s a sweeter thing than that description suggests. Kinnunen is as grounded as Ashmanskas is flighty; with all these shameless hams in town, it’s Emma that gets the 11 O’Clock number, the achingly earnest “Unruly Heart,” which Kinnunen knocks out of the ballpark. Director / choreographer Casey Nicholaw is fresh off Mean Girls, so he knows his way around the high-school scene (he’s long known his way around Broadway!), and gives it his usual heart and pizzazz. Highly recommended.

For tickets, click here.

To learn about Jonathan Warman’s directing work, see jonathanwarman.com.

Review: The Ferryman

There is an extensive dramatic literature about strife in Ireland. So, crafting a drama that takes a fresh angle, and tells that story in a new way is no small accomplishment. That’s exactly what playwright Jez Butterworth has achieved in The Ferryman, an enormous family tragicomedy set during “The Troubles.” Specifically, the play is set in rural County Armagh, Northern Ireland, late summer 1981. The Carney farmhouse hums with activity in preparation for the annual harvest. A day of hard work on the land and a traditional feast finds the family inexorably – and tragically – drawn back into the arms of the Irish Republican Army.

Director Sam Mendes deftly weaves together the everyday and mystical elements that Butterworth has weaved into this complex tapestry of a play. Paddy Considine plays household head Quinn Carney brilliantly, sharply etching the bright lights and deep darks of this deeply-conflicted central character.

The Ferryman is above all an ensemble show. Butterworth has given each of its many characters a distinctive personality, Mendes has given structure to this often chaotic household, and every member of the ensemble plays the hell out of their part no matter how large or small. A particular standout is the luminous Fionnula Flanagan as Aunt Maggie Far Away, a mostly catatonic elder family member, who, when she comes to life, comes blazingly to life.

Does The Ferryman earn its 3 hour and 15 minutes running time? Not 100%. There are times, especially in Act III, where it feels like Butterworth is luxuriating in a moment too much. But it is still, overall, a rewarding production of a richly written play. Recommended.

For tickets, click here.

To learn about Jonathan Warman’s directing work, see jonathanwarman.com.

Review: The Lifespan of a Fact

This is one tight little machine of a play, never letting up for much of its hour and a half. Even more, while it is dense and thematically packed, the play simultaneously retains a razor-sharp focus on character. This makes it particularly compelling. The Lifespan of a Fact is based on the true story of “What Happens There” an essay by John D’Agata (played here by Bobby Canavale) about the Las Vegas suicide of teenager Levi Presley. Jim Fingal (Daniel Radcliffe), assigned to fact check the piece, ignites a debate on the blurred lines of what passes for truth in literary nonfiction.

The play doesn’t directly address the present administration’s excessively unhinged grasp (or lack thereof) of what constitutes a fact. The closest it comes to that is Fingal warning D’Agata that, in this day and age, playing fast and loose with fact leads directly to unscrupulous or gullible people developing conspiracy theories. That said, its intelligent examination of the very nature of truth feels exceedingly timely. Radcliffe and Canavale are formidable as these two strong personalities, and Cherry Jones (“formidable” could be her middle name) is just as terrific as their editor Emily.

Director Leigh Silverman keep the tension, and propulsion, going in every moment. The Lifespan of a Fact rigorously explores the nature of accuracy in journalism, and the dangers of taking literary license when writing non-fiction, even if the aim is getting at deep truths. Recommended.

For tickets, click here.

To learn about Jonathan Warman’s directing work, see jonathanwarman.com.

Review: Nellie McKay

This cabaret act solidifies Nellie McKay’s right to be considered the 21st Century Blossom Dearie, but even more surreal, subversive and nutty. She’s a supreme stylist, with broad, substantial musical intelligence behind every single understated flourish. She combines heart-on-sleeve sincerity with supremely arch, dry wit; she’s utterly unique, her performance style multifarious and unpredictable, drawing ideas from extremely diverse eras and genres.

The act, at the Birdland Theater, is edgy even for a venue that regularly features post-bop royalty – she opens with the casually venomous “Inner Peace” from her 2004 debut album – all the while displaying musical taste and restraint so impeccable you dare not take issue with her cabaret bona fides. It’s 100% a solo act, just Nellie in a bejeweled drum majorette’s uniform, accompanying herself on piano, and exceptionally expressive ukulele (I’d go so far as to call her a virtuoso of the uke). Plus there’s a Hammond XK electric organ (a favorite instrument of mine) which adds just the right level of kooky spook to her original “Zombie.” Speaking of kooky, her version of the jazz ballad “Willow Weep for Me” breaks into wild boogie-woogie in the middle; it’s a left-field move, which somehow feels just right.

She becomes one with the piano, forcing you to focus on the nuances of both the music and the lyrics. While she still places a knowing distance between herself and the audience, this show finds her the most comfortable I’ve ever seen her just being her utterly unique self, communing with the vibe in the room. McKay’s a highly individual talent, with wildly crazy creativity to match her razor-like interpretive ability. She’s a true original, and it’s an exceptional pleasure to hear her in such an intimate setting. Highly recommended.

For tickets, click here.

To learn about Jonathan Warman’s directing work, see jonathanwarman.com.

Review: Raja

One of the most effortlessly stylish queens ever to appear on Drag Race, Raja is doing her second solo cabaret show at the Laurie Beechman Theatre. Titled Masque, the show features a little bit of everything: some singing, some monologuing about contemporary issues, and a whole lot of fashion fierceness.

As a matter of fact, after singing one of her original songs in a bejeweled and horned mask, Raja says “this is the part of the show where I do nothing but fucking model for two and a half minutes,” proceeding to give indescribable body and face to Right Said Fred’s “I’m Too Sexy.” There’s your admission fee covered right there.

And even though she says “that all the choreography you’re going to get” after a handful of hip bumps in her first sung cover of the evening – Tina Turner’s “Private Dancer” – don’t you believe it. Raja instinctively swirls, twirls and dips with aplomb whenever there’s music. That makes me wish the ratio of talk to music favored music more, even though the monologues are spiritually and politically deft and intelligent. Maybe a tad repetitive, but I’ll chalk that up to the weed and wine she cheerfully admits to having taken in.

Raja has a warm charismatic presence, which makes you think she’d be able to put over just about anything she wanted. Recommended.

For tickets, click here.

To learn about Jonathan Warman’s directing work, see jonathanwarman.com.