The Wild Party at UH’s Earle Ernst Lab Theatre
|October 29, 2013||Posted by Staff Reviewer under Staff Reviews|
By Donald Quilinquin, Guest Staff Reviewer.
“We were having a wild, wild party.
We were loving it loud and fast.
We were having a wild, wild party,
And hoping the beer would last.”
Based on the poem by Joseph Moncure March, The Wild Party by Andrew Lippa is set in New York City during Prohibition. The story follows Queenie (Leiney Rigg) as she hosts a party for her lover, Burrs (Garett Taketa), while she falls for a charming man named Black (Lavour Addison). We ultimately see the journey of self-discovery in Queenie’s life. In this version, staged in the intimate space at the Earle Ernst Lab Theatre, director Brittni Michele Shambaugh presents a fun and raw rendition of a party that could have been in 1926. Shambaugh highlights the performance with a wide range of creativity and skill by her cast, choreographers, and designers.
Leiney Rigg begins the performance with her entrance as Queenie in striking burlesque fashion with a seductive song. Rigg’s musical voice mixes sweet elegance with strength that describes Queenie’s personality. Rigg also adds a dream-like quality with choices in Queenie’s movement that exponentially quantify her physical attributes. But as beautiful as Queenie is, she’s only telling and honest when pushed to her emotional edge. Rigg displayed this with fear, love, and sadness.
Our first impression of Kate comes from the cast’s repulsive response to her boisterous entrance. Kyle Scholl brings spunk and arrogance to Kate, which anyone can find annoying, and we love it. Scholl establishes many character traits that overwhelm our attention but provide a presence that never waivers throughout the musical. It didn’t matter if she was just walking or flirting, or whether focus was on her or another couple, Scholl continued to perform with annoying grace. Kate proves to be one odd cookie, but we all know someone like her, a testament to Scholl to keep Kate human throughout.
In Burrs, there is a duality to the character that surmounts his identity. Garett Taketa uses unstable emotion to establish Burrs’ erratic nature between clown and man, both convincingly. Taketa uses clean and purposeful movement to establish the clown, while he uses a very direct and tense approach for the man that struggles with his love for Queenie. Burrs’ large presence on stage seemed constant but in opposition to his change in his personality. Taketa uses his natural aura as a spotlight.
Opposite the directly cunning clown is Black. Suave and sleek, Lavour Addison brings along a gentle man that paces well with Rigg’s Queenie. Addison compliments Taketa’s performance in a clash to win the heart of Queenie. Unlike Taketa, Addison uses his acting ability to shrink his presence to allow Queenie to open up her heart, as well as expanding his presence to be as large as Burrs. Addison is Taketa’s opposite, flowing around space where Taketa is direct.
The whole ensemble also impresses through the use of many abilities. Stacey Pulmano shines with strong comedic timing and expressions as Madelaine True. Comedy is also constant with the mischievous and rowdy duo of Oscar and Phil D’Armano, played by Isaac Ligsay and Kalau Crisostomo, respectively. The unique abilities of the ensemble surpass comedy as well. Eddie and Mae, played by Joe Winskye and Amy Johnson, respectively, beautifully sing “Two of Kind” with an adorable quality that is second to none. Jonathan Clarke Sypert gives Jackie a different dimension of communication, playing a dancing, tongueless character. Sypert uses multiple dance forms in key moments of emotion. The most impressive was a short tap dance number that included Rigg and Pulmano. Most of the credit goes to the actors and actresses for relentless performances, singing and dancing. But we shouldn’t forget about the choreographers. Michelle Johnson and Kathryn Holt deserve admiration working with a large cast in a small space on a dynamic, multi-tiered set.
With the many abilities that were seen, we also cannot forget about the designers. The collaboration of the design team was as impressive as the cast. Scenic Designer Meg Hanna, who also designed costumes and props, stacked the stage with multiple levels that provide a visual hierarchy of control. Initially looking like a dusty Vaudeville house, Hanna’s use of subtle brown hues helped lighting designer Ray Moschuk transform the house into a clean and colorful party. The incorporation of foot lights and drapery behind the audience helped establish the physical parameters of a play while still inviting the audience to the party. Hanna also cleverly uses color in the costumes, with help from Moschuk’s lighting design, to establish a different type of hierarchy from the set.
Shambaugh directed a unique and impressive showing of The Wild Party. I can safely say that the performances touched me to my core, not because of the March’s poem or Lippa’s composition, but because of the choice Shambaugh made to include the audience. I wanted to dance and sing, move around the space, and mingle with audience members and cast alike. I felt like I was attending a Vaudeville specialty performance. It truly felt like a party.