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See this flick and you might wish you were dead

In the bowels of Basin City, there are no happy endings. So don’t look for any in these four stories of sex, death and violence.
    Barfly thug Marv (Mickey Rourke: Java Heat) hasn’t made a man bleed in days. It’s starting to get to him. As his impulse toward violence grows, he seeks an outlet to vent his rage.
    Gambler Johnny (Joseph Gordon-Levitt: Don Jon) is looking to make a score. Never having lost a game of chance, he buys into the richest card game in the city, playing police chiefs, senators and high rollers to take home millions.
    Private Eye Dwight (Josh Brolin: Guardians of the Galaxy) meets his long-lost love Ava (Eva Green: Penny Dreadful) at a bar. She promises love and fidelity if Dwight helps extract her from her marriage to the rich sadist for whom she left him.
    Stripper Nancy (Jessica Alba: The Spoils of Babylon) lost the love of her life because of the threats of a powerful senator (Powers Boothe: Nashville). Now an alcoholic with a tenuous grip on sanity, she vows revenge.
    Director Robert Rodriguez made the first Sin City film — adapted from Frank Miller’s popular graphic novels — in black and white so it looked ripped from the pages of a comic book. In this sequel, he seems to have forgotten what made the original a success. This sequel is so bad that it taints the memory of its predecessor.
    Despite graphic violence, near constant nudity and plenty of pulpy dramatic dialog, this movie is so dull that it could be used in a sleep study.
    The four story lines are smashed together rather than interwoven. The painterly quality so visually arresting in the first is replaced with shots of naked women framed as high art.
    Actors could save this one — were not most of them woefully inept or miscast. Jessica Alba continues to prove she’s one of the worst actresses working today. Gordon-Levitt’s slight frame is dwarfed in Miller’s world of hulking men.
    Only Rourke understands how to work with the pulpy dialog and plot. His Marv — who impressed in the first Sin City — is a sweet lunk who happens to be a dangerous psychotic. Rourke generates both sympathy and fear.
    With nothing but Mickey Rourke’s 20 minutes of screen time to recommend it, Sin City: A Dame to Kill For fails on three counts: film, action and cheap pornographic thrills.

Awful Action • R • 102 mins.

Theater al fresco at Reynolds Tavern, where the humor is bawdy, the medicine primitive and the fun timeless

     Annapolis Shakespeare Company keeps the comedy in the courtyard coming. After a successful run with Molière’s The Schemings of Scapin, now on tap outdoors at Reynolds Tavern is a lively and very funny Imaginary Invalid. Molière’s final play was written by the tuberculosis-wracked playwright/actor to star himself and reflect his disdain for the medical mores. He indeed played the lead to great acclaim before succumbing to his malady soon after the curtain went down on a show for King Louis XIV.
    Adapted by Tim Mooney and directed by Kristen Clippard, Annapolis Shakespeare Company’s Imaginary Invalid is three riveting acts of fast-paced fun, with a stellar cast reveling in every rhyming couplet. But don’t let the three acts worry you about a long night ahead; the 7:30pm start gets you out just a bit after 9pm.
    The imaginary invalid is Argan (Kim Curtis), a well-to-do hypochondriac who wants to marry his daughter Angelique (Ashlyn Thompson) off to a soon-to-be-doctor (Zachary Roberts), son of Diafoirus (John Stange), already a doctor, so one will always be around. Meanwhile, his second wife Beline (Amber Gibson) wants both her stepdaughters, Angelique and Louison (Roberts again), put into a nunnery so she can claim Argan’s riches when he dies. But Angelique is in love with the handsome, romantic and oh so dim Cleante (Keegan Cassady). Argan’s maidservant Toinette (Briana Manente) has no qualms about setting Argan straight on why a forced marriage is a bad idea, as does his brother Beralde (Stange again), who also is getting a little fed up with the whole ­hypochondria thing.
    Got all that? Thanks to a cast of actors who know how to deliver lines with their bodies as well as their voices, the action is easy to follow. Which brings up a personal nitpick: How many times have you gone to the theater and missed lines because the actors weren’t speaking up? Nine times out of 10 it’s not the volume that’s the problem, it’s the diction. Other local theaters would do well to emulate Annapolis Shakespeare Company’s focus on enunciation because nary a line was lost, even in this outside setting. Speak the speech, I pray thee.
    The other thing that often gets between the actor and the audience’s ability to follow what’s happening is the blocking — the placement and movement of the actors — a challenge especially in a round setting such as the Reynolds courtyard. Again, director Clippard’s focus on the details pays off. Despite the small space, the action does not feel limited or cramped, and no back is turned to any of us for more than a few seconds.
    In the less-is-more category, this is all done with a single chair and one chair-side table with a few apothecary bottles. That’s because the top-notch acting and efficient use of space eliminate the need for anything more than the very clever costumes. So, reserve a Tuesday evening and watch some very talented actors pull you away from Annapolis 2014 and into 1600s’ France, where the humor is bawdy, the medicine primitive and the fun timeless.


Costume coordinator: Maggie Cason. Stage manager: Sara K. Smith. Assistant stage management intern: Shannon McGovern.

Playing thru October 7 Tu at 7:30pm at Reynolds Tavern. 7 Church Circle, Annapolis. $20 w/advance discounts:
410-415-3513; www.annapolisshakespeare.org.

Grandpa, tell me about the good old days

    In the bygone era of 1980s’ movies, a hero’s worth was determined by the circumference of his biceps, the length of his cigars and the heft of his gun. It was a simple time of bloody shootouts, car chases and cheesy lines.
    Three decades later, these pumped-up monosyllabic heroes are well past their prime but determined to relive their glory days in the Expendables series. Most of the stars are too old for this stuff, but even action heroes have house payments. So every few years Sylvester Stallone (Grudge Match) writes a new Expendables script and trots out his buddies for a quick paycheck and a trip down memory lane.
    In the third geri-action installment, we follow Barney Ross (Stallone) and his mercenary team, the Expendables, on a seemingly routine interruption of an arms deal. The mission goes spectacularly wrong when Barney catches the arms dealer in the crosshairs. The dealer is Expendables’ co-founder Conrad Stonebanks (Mel Gibson: Machete Kills), who Barney believed he’d killed decades ago.
    Stonebanks catches Barney and the rest of the Expendables off guard, wounding them and making off with the money. Obsessed with killing Stonebanks and terrified that his aging mercenaries will die on the mission, Barney fires his team to seek a new, younger crew.
    Young audiences may miss the appeal of seeing wrinkled men mutter lame jokes, hit on women 20 years younger and beat each other bloody. But for audiences who grew up watching Cobra, Commando and Masters of the Universe, there is a certain nostalgic fun to these mindless action throwbacks.
    Filled with hokey lines, a ridiculous plot and low-budget action sequences, The Expendables 3 rises with its cast. Or falls, as Stallone’s new team of young pretty boys are pretty dull.
    When the veterans get their chance, each delivers. Stallone and Arnold Schwarzenegger (Sabotage) are old hands at charming their way through terrible material. Dolph Lundgren (SAF3) entertains by vacillating between imposing psychotic and goofy weirdo. Wesley Snipes (Gallowwalkers) proves that he still has a magnetic screen presence. Jason Statham (Homefront), who deserves so much better than this dreck, is the odd man out, too young to fit in with the old guard, too grizzled to join the boys.
    The only acting tragedy among the old guys is the villain. Gibson’s legal and PR troubles have made him an ideal bad guy for movies, but his wild-eyed performance shows that this once-great star has fallen.
    With a horrid plot, spotty acting and odd casting, The Expendables 3 is a bad movie. Yet I enjoyed it. Seeing these stars pick up their guns and get back to work is a little like touring Jurassic Park. There’s something magical about watching these dinosaurs in their natural element.


Fair Action • PG-13 • 126 mins.
 

An Indian family spices up French haute cuisine

     Kadam family life is built around food. In India, young Hassan learns how to taste and create unique flavors from his mother, an intuitive cook. When a riot leads to her death and the destruction of their restaurant, the family decides to try their luck in Europe.
    When the family car breaks down in a remote French village, Fearless Patriarch (Om Puri: Welcome Back) sees not tragedy but fate. He spends the family’s savings on a broken-down building that he deems perfect for an Indian restaurant. The family is confident that their gifted Hassan (Manish Dayal: California Scheming) can convert French villagers to Indian cuisine.
    Their enterprise stands only a hundred feet from a famed restaurant with a coveted Michelin star. Its proprietor, Madame Mallory (Helen Mirren: Red 2), doesn’t like competition.
    She bristles at the Kadam family’s music, gripes at their colorful decorations and sneers at what she deems “ethnic food.” Soon the Kadams and Mme. Mallory are locked in culinary war.
    The Hundred-Foot Journey is a cinematic meringue: Light, sweet and without much substance. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but this serving doesn’t make for a very memorable cinema experience. Director Lasse Hallstrom (Safe Haven) has made a name directing fluffy romances and family dramas. This sweetly predictable fish-out-of-water tale stays close to what he knows. You know immediately how the story will end and which characters will be paired up before the credits roll. Issues like racism, death and classism are touched only briefly. This is a movie about pretty people making attractive food and finding equally comely life partners.
    On the plus side, Hallstrom’s cinematography is beyond compare. He lovingly captures the creamy peaks of a perfect hollandaise sauce and the bright colors of a chicken tikka, making food a sumptuous, nearly sensual, experience. A bag of popcorn and a soda will be a disappointment during this two hours of exotic, delectable cooking.
    Though there’s not much flavor to the story, actors work hard to imbue their characters with charm and charisma. Mirren does an excellent Maggie Smith impression as a stuffy patrician who learns to open her heart. Veteran Bollywood actor Puri gives dignity and kindness to what could be a horribly stereotypical role.
    The real find is Manish Dayal. His Hassan is naïve yet confident in his own abilities, a sympathetic character you hope succeeds.
Fair Drama/Great Cooking • PG • 122 mins.

 

Always look on the bright si-ide of life …
 

     There are two kinds of people in this world: Those who get Monty Python, and those who don’t. The dividing chasm is willingness to accept silliness. Python’s humor is physical (Google Silly Walk), yet it has an underlying winking, silly intelligence that the don’t-gets … well, don’t get.
    Fortunately for Annapolis Summer Garden Theatre, the opening night audience for Monty Python’s Spamalot was filled mostly with gets. Based largely on the 1975 film Monty Python and the Holy Grail — but borrowing from plenty of other Python hits — the Mike Nichols-directed Spamalot premiered on Broadway in 2005 and won three Tonys, including Best Musical. Some of the humor that is directly aimed at a Broadway audience full of Python fanatics fell a little flat in Annapolis (case in point: the Mel Brooks-ish “You Won’t Succeed on Broadway … if you don’t have any Jews”). Some noticeable opening night tentativeness between orchestra and chorus will tighten up over the five-week run. But this is already a delightful production creatively directed by Jeffrey Lesniak and highlighted by stellar individual performances.
    Even if you haven’t seen the movie (and by all means, do, it’s timeless!), you’re in for a silly good time.
    As some Broadway musicals use a thin plot to string together strong songs, Spamalot uses its thin plot — Arthur and his knights searching for the Holy Grail — to string together classic Python comedy bits and a few songs. The songs are meant as much to skewer Broadway musicals as to push along said plot. Python founder and writer Eric Idle wrote the lyrics and book. A parody of Arthurian times, Spamalot revolves around King Arthur (a droll Ruben Vellekoop) and his knights of the “very round” table. The knights are the stars of this show.
    Each plays several roles with comic timing and delivery — not to mention the various speaking and singing voices — all spot on. Standing out in the voice department is David Merrill, whose Sir (Dennis) Galahad gets things moving with a hilarious diatribe about the woes of the working class. He then joins the Lady of the Lake (Alice Goldberg) for a satirical yet lyrical jab at formulaic Broadway called “The Song That Goes Like This.” Merrill’s tenor is a treat. Later he shines as the famed Black Knight, insisting “it’s just a flesh wound” after losing his limbs to his challenger. He reappears as Prince Herbert’s overbearing father, getting into a hilarious back and forth with two guards who can’t quite grasp the concept of “stay here.”
    The other knights — Sir Robin (Fred Fletcher-Jackson), Sir Lancelot (Joshua Mooney) and Sir Bedevere (DJ Wojciehowski) — each contribute several comedic turns. Notable is Mooney as the French Taunter (“I fart in your general direction!”), the Knight of Ni and, of course, Lancelot, whose sexuality is confirmed for him by the singers of “His Name Is Lancelot’ (“he likes to dance a lot; he wears tight pants a lot”). Other standouts: a very funny Steven Baird as Patsy, the king’s dedicated coconut-clopping sound effects toadie; and Austin Heemstra, who narrates things as the historian and gets his own laughs as Not Dead Fred, the Minstrel and Prince Herbert.
    In addition to the very effective duet with Merrill on “The Song That Goes Like This,” Goldberg’s Lady of the Lake takes another shot at Broadway tunes when she returns to the stage in “The Diva’s Lament” (“whatever happened to my part? It was exciting at the start …”).
    Perhaps the most famous Python song of them all, “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life” opens Act II (and returns very effectively after the curtain call) exclaiming “When you’re chewing on life’s gristle, don’t grumble, give a whistle.” Originally sung in Life of Brian by a chorus of the crucified, it works, very well, here.
    Also working very well is the multi-level castle set by Dan Lavanga and the wide variety of colorful costumes by Linda Swann. Only God and Eric Idle (one and the same in this show) know what was going on behind the scenes during those quick changes.
    Don’t think that because Spamalot runs through August 31 you can just gallop on over and secure a seat. Annapolis Summer Garden Theatre has a hit in this one, so the Holy Grail around Annapolis this month may be securing two tickets, not one chalice.


Music director: Steve Przybyiski. Choreographer: Rikki Howie Lacewell. Stage manager: John Nunemaker. Lighting designer: Matt Tillett. Sound designer: Dan Caughran. About 2 hours and 15 minutes including intermission.

Playing thru Aug. 31: Th-Su 8:30pm at Annapolis Summer Garden Theatre. $20; rsvp: 410-268-9212;
www.summergarden.com.

How many losers does it take to save the universe?

The night Peter Quill’s mother died, he was abducted by aliens. Twenty years later, Peter (Chris Pratt: The LEGO Movie) remembers Earth by a troll doll and his mother’s Walkman. He travels the galaxy scavenging rare treasures from abandoned planets, listening to a mix tape of his mother’s favorite tunes.
    On a treasure run, he steals an orb from an abandoned building. Suddenly, he’s the target of a galaxy-wide manhunt. Turns out the orb will help the evil Ronan (Lee Pace: The Hobbit) exact revenge on the galaxy he blames for killing his warlord father.
    Quill is soon accosted by Gamora (Zoe Saldana: Rosemary’s Baby), an assassin working for Ronan. Gamora is in turn thwarted by two bounty hunters, a genetically modified raccoon named Rocket (Bradley Cooper: American Hustle) and a sentient tree creature Groot (Vin Diesel: Riddick), both also after the price on Quill’s head. This team of sworn enemies, petty thieves, disinterested third parties and psychotics are all that stand between Ronan and the galaxy’s destruction.
    Guardians of the Galaxy is a silly action movie with ridiculous characters, big budget explosions and a machine gun-shooting raccoon. It’s also the best time I’ve had at a movie all summer. Director James Gunn (Super), who co-wrote the script, creates a universe filled with witty heroes, slapstick humor, thrilling action and awe-inspiring visuals. In other words, he understands how to make a film based on a comic book.
    In his big-budget debut, Gunn isn’t overwhelmed. He manages to orchestrate high-paced action that packs emotional punch. But Gunn’s real accomplishment is the script, which imbues a jumble of clichés — like the bad-boy thief with a heart of gold — with credible personalities.
    Script and direction make a good framework for the actors to vitalize. Pratt has long supplied comic relief in film and television; Guardians of the Galaxy is the star turn he deserves. With granite-jawed good looks and a devilish smile, Pratt turns Quill into a Han Solo for the modern era. He’ll shoot first and betray comrades for a quick buck. But when the fate of the universe is on the line, Quill will do the right thing.
    As a tortured assassin looking for vengeance, Saldana is a tough, smart heroine with a tremendous sense of right and wrong. Think of her as the Black Widow — if Marvel gave her an independent storyline.
    Supporting the two leads are a crew of oddballs. It’s not surprising that a tree with eyes, a tattooed and stupid tough and a smart-mouthed raccoon provide comic relief. It is surprising that Gunn allows each character a moment of dignity that makes them emotionally powerful.
    Unlike The Avengers — a movie about special people learning to set their egos aside and work together to be even more fantastic as a unit — Guardians of the Galaxy is a film about what losers can do if given half a chance. Quill’s crew isn’t the brightest, the strongest or the fastest; in fact, we watch each of the members fail spectacularly a few times. But they figure it out in the end. It’s a powerful message for those of us who haven’t discovered how to craft an Iron Man suit.

Great Comic Movie • PG-13 • 121 mins.

This tempest is a summer storm you won’t want to miss.

Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale of an eerie desert isle where a band of royal castaways is marooned in style. No, it’s not a new sitcom or reality show. It’s William Shakespeare’s The Tempest, a supernatural classic of haunting beauty playing for the next two weekends at the Bowie Playhouse. It’s also the Annapolis Shakespeare Company’s last production in that space before moving to new space on Chinquapin Round Road in the fall.
    The story begins before the action with Prospero (Brian Keith MacDonald), the deposed Duke of Milan, living in exile for 12 years with his teenage daughter Miranda (Jenny Donovan). All that time he has been plotting his retribution. Toward that end, he has become a powerful sorcerer by studying books provided for him by his confederate Gonzalo (Joe Palka), who spirited the father and daughter to safety along with basic comforts like a vast library complete with ornate shelving and a leather armchair. In Prospero’s service are a vile semi-human, Caliban (Alex Zavistovich), rightful heir to the island and son of a now-deceased witch, and three sprites: Ariel (Raven Bonniwell), Ceres (Emily Samuelson) and Juno (Micaela Mannix). All help Prospero exact his revenge on his traitorous brother, Antonio (Grant Cloyd). Thus the eponymous tempest, a supernatural storm conjured by Ariel, which is so ferocious you would swear you were caught in a real microburst if only the theater sprinklers were employed.
    The villainous Duke Antonio is shipwrecked along with his co-conspirator Sebastian (Elliott Kashner) and a royal entourage including King Alonso (Brian McDermott), Prince Ferdinand (David Mavricos), Prospero’s old friend Gonzalo, the jester Trinculo (Charlie Retzlaff), the drunken steward Stephano (Kiernan McGowan) and the noblewoman Adrian (Amie Cazel).
    Prince Ferdinand, separated from his shipmates, is delivered to Prospero and Miranda by Ariel so the youngsters may fall in love and marry, as is Miranda’s birthright. What follows is a series of trials involving frustrated lovers, treasonous assassins who play upon Caliban’s resentment, comical inebriates and generally clueless witnesses to supernatural intervention in the natural order of things. Finally, Prospero is returned to power, Ariel is freed from his service and Caliban is presumably left in peace at his master’s imminent departure.
    As with many of Shakespeare’s works, the plot can be overwhelming, so don’t try to follow it too closely. Just bear in mind that this play is more about witchcraft than story, and enjoy the ride.
    This production is technically a more impressive show than Annapolis Shakespeare Company’s typical fare. The simple set features a sheer curtain of oceanic scrim enhanced by dramatic special effects such as strobes, thunder and wind that either comes from a machine or supreme acting. A disorienting sonic décor of shifting chordal suspensions composed for this show by Gregg Martin keeps the magic alive throughout. The sprites cavort in bodysuits of a rich aquatic palette, while the aristocrats glory in resplendent crimson and gold.
    Major performers behind the mystery are Bonniwell and her sprites, Samuelson and Mannix, who gambol and tease and seethe and flit around the auditorium in a dreamy suspension between sea and sky from the moment the doors open until closing curtain, their every move a nuanced ballet. Zavistovich’s man-monster, with his dreadlocks, crazed eyes and rabid smile, menaces and cowers in extremes of animalistic power and vanquished powerlessness. Yet he is an eloquent beast. MacDonald commands the stage as if it truly were his home, and Retzlaff’s physical comedy makes him the king of fools.
    This tempest is a summer storm you won’t want to miss, but you can’t watch it from your porch. Get your tickets now, before they vanish.

Director: Jay D. Brock. Scenic designer: Andrew Cohen. Choreographer: Sally Boyett. Lighting designer: Catharine Girardi. Costume designer: Maggie Cason. Composer/sound designer: Gregg Martin.
Playing thru Aug 17, F at 8pm; Sa at 2pm & 8pm; Su at 3pm at Annapolis Shakespeare Company, Bowie Playhouse, White Marsh Park. $30 with discounts; rsvp: 410-415-3513; www.annapolisshakespeare.org.

The everyday banalities of saving the world

     Günter Bachmann (Philip Seymour Hoffman: Catching Fire) isn’t a man who stands out in a crowd. His shoulders hunch, pulling awkwardly at his ill-fitting jacket. His softening middle hangs over his pants, the product of poor diet and long days at a desk. His weary, weathered face reveals bright blue eyes often peering over the rim of a whiskey glass.
    Bachmann looks like hundreds of dissatisfied office workers who flood the bars of Hamburg. But he’s not. He’s the head of a small intelligence agency tasked with rooting out terror cells. Bachmann’s unremarkable appearance is exactly what makes him so good at his job.
    Bachmann’s current obsession is Dr. Faisal Abdullah (Homayoun Ershadi: Inja Iran), a wealthy Islamic philanthropist who may be funneling money to terrorists.
    When illegal Chechen immigrant Issa (Grigoriy Dobrygin: 4 Days in May), washes up on the shores of Hamburg, Bachmann sees his opportunity to break open a terror cell. Issa claims to be the heir to a Russian warlord’s massive fortune and a refugee from a Russian torture camp. He was also part of an extremist Islamic group. Bachmann is eager to see if Issa will use his new inheritance to help Abdullah fund a terror cell.
    Can Bachmann prove Abdullah is a dubious character? Is Issa a threat to Germany? What is the human cost of keeping a country safe?
    Based on a novel by John le Carré, A Most Wanted Man is much like the character of Bachmann: unremarkable, unless you’re paying attention. Director Anton Corbijn (The American) takes time to build the Hamburg environment. The offices are dingy, filled with papers and outdated technology. Dirty streets spill over from a heavily industrialized waterfront. Corbijn takes his time making the life of Hamburg teem in the streets.
    Because Corbijn spends so much time setting the scenes and developing his characters, he tears through plot at a breakneck speed. Like 2011’s Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, the movie is more rewarding to viewers familiar with the novel. If you don’t know the broad strokes of the plot and characters before buying a ticket, you’ll need to focus intently.
    As Bachmann, Hoffman is the quintessential le Carré hero. He’s cynical, drab and fiercely devoted to a country that allows him to do terrible things to save it.
    Hoffman is the center of a powerful cast that includes Willem Dafoe, Robin Wright and Daniel Brühl. The one weak spot in this impressive spy thriller is Rachel McAdams’ Annabel, whose German accent quakes when she has more than a few lines of dialog and who isn’t quite believable as a tough human rights attorney.
    If you’re looking for a classic spy drama with a feeling of realism, A Most Wanted Man won’t disappoint. See it to say goodbye to one of America’s finest actors in a performance that is worthy of his legacy.

Great Drama • R • 121 mins.

Plenty of solid hits light up nine innings

     Colonial Players’ One-Act Play Festival has been a biyearly summer event since 1999. This year’s installment, THIS AND THAT, presents nine plays across two slates, THIS and THAT, running on alternating dates. The Festival is an occasion for novice directors, production staff and actors to produce known and unknown works under the tutelage of seasoned mentors. Thus, such talents as Rick Wade, past Colonial  Players president and author of the company’s classic A Christmas Carol, appear alongside theater newbies or actors who are cutting their directorial teeth.
    This year’s directors, in the order their shows are listed, include Dave Carter, Timothy Sayles, Rebecca Feibel, Robin Schwartz, Cseni Szabo, Scott Nichols, Dave Walter, Mark T. Allen and Lelia TahaBurt. Their stories range from comedy to tragedy, yet a theme in all but one is that things are not as they seem.

THIS, playing July 25 and 27
     Jerry Casagrande’s Among Shrubs and Ivy, which debuted in 2011 at Silver Spring Stage, follows John (Robert Eversberg) through a decade of vacations at a seaside campground owned by crusty Korean War vet Frank (Martin Hayes). With few but powerful words, they bond over their shared love of the property, their families and the value of continuity in a changing world. With Laurel Kenney, Gregory Anderson and Chloe Kubit.
    Me and My Shadow is a riotous look at duplicity when two classmates reunite with inner voices in-tow, speaking unspeakable thoughts. Playwright Rich Orloff’s forthright comedy follows an insecure writer, Susanne (Bernadette Arvidson), and her Super Ego, Susie (Rosalie Daelemans), to a luncheon with Susanne’s successful publisher friend Jacqueline (Kathryn Huston), and her Id, Jacquie (Peggy Friedman). Even the waitress, Andrea (Laurel Kenney), is funny as Andi (Kubit) expresses her candid thoughts about her customers.
    Sure Thing by David Ives is a take on the dating game reminiscent of Groundhog Day. Bill (Brandon Bentley) and Betty (Sarah Smith) grapple with pick-up lines and small talk, rejecting each other’s overtures with a game show buzzer until they stumble on the right formula for starting a relationship.
    James H. Wise’s comedy Mugger in the Park, voted an Audience Favorite at last year’s Watermelon One-Act Festival in Leonardtown, continues to delight with Kathryn Huston’s portrayal of Selma, the stereotypical little old lady who is stuck up by a thug (Jason Vaughan). Selma prevails with her retinue of complaints, kvetching and clever one-upsmanship. Martin Hayes and Robert Eversberg play Selma’s husband and a second thug.
    In Tough Cookies, by Brett Hursey, a date fizzles when the waiter (Jason Vaughan) can’t supply an entitled jerk, Chaz (Brandon Bentley), with a fortune cookie worthy of its name, while his date, Roxanne (Kenney), racks up paper compliments and blessings.

THAT, playing July 24 and 26
     Queen of the Northern Monkeys, by Jason Vaughan, presents a snippet of life from the 1957 Roman holiday of Danish Baroness Karen Blixen (Carol Cohen), aka Isak Dineson, who wrote the memoir Out of Africa. This lovely episode of her life, exploring her friendship with American literary titan Eugene Walter (Kevin Wallace) and her secretary Clara (Erica Jureckson), feels more like an excerpt from a larger work than a complete work in itself.
    Jeff Stolzer’s award-winning satire Emergency Room pokes fun at the broken healthcare system, pitting a patient (Kim Ethridge) against a corrupt hospital where the doctor and billing clerk (both played by Erica Jureckson) and security guard (Richard Atha-Nicholls) conspire to keep her captive. The exaggerated premise would be funnier if not for the frustration and sick humor.
    Rick Wade’s Foxgloves is a smart intrigue that takes place at an airport bar where widower Dennis (Danny Brooks) and his traveling companion Jerry (Atha-Nicholls) discover how much they have in common. Bernadette Arvidson plays the sympathetic waitress.
    Alien Love Triangle, by Katherine Glover, is a hilarious sci-fi thriller starring Richard Atha-Nicholls and Erica Jureckson as two astronauts studying life and finding love with K’Sh, an amoeba-like creature with three heads (Kubit, Sam Morton and Brooke Penne). 
    Some productions are more polished than others, but each slate offers at least a couple solid wins. It’s summer fun for sultry nights with a seed of surprise.


This and That: One Act Play Festival. Stage Manager: Ernie Morton. Sound: Brittany Rankin and Richard Atha-Nicholls. Lights: Eric Gasior and Shirley Panek. Costumes: Hannah Sturm and Kaelynn Miller. Set: Lyana Morton and Edd Miller.

Playing thru July 27, Th thru Sa at 8pm and Su at 2 at Colonial Players, 108 East St. Annapolis. $10 per slate or $15 for both; rsvp: 410-268-7373; thecolonialplayers.org.
 

Is privacy possible in the Facebook Age?

     Jay (Jason Segel: How I Met Your Mother) and Annie (Cameron Diaz: The Other Woman) were insatiable. Their voracious sex life led to an unplanned pregnancy and marriage. Over a decade later, Jay and Annie still love each other, and they are flourishing professionally and personally, but their sex life has gone belly-up. Though both miss the intimacy, they can’t seem to find time for each other.
    Jay, who works at a radio station, has a complicated musical filing system that requires two iPads. For some reason, it also requires him to purchase new iPads every few months. He distributes his old ones to friends, family and occasionally business associates.
    Writer Annie’s popular blog on ­motherhood has attracted the attention of a huge corporation. They’d like her to be the face of their mommy blog, as long as she promises to keep the material wholesome. Thrilled at a chance to advance her career, which has stalled since the kids arrived, she plans to celebrate with a wild night of passion.
    Alas, Jay and Annie are no longer in synch. Things get awkward until Annie has a brilliant idea: Use Jay’s iPad to make a sex tape and spice up their DOA sex lives.
    Apparently, a camera lens is all you need to fix your marital ennui; the sex tape works like a charm. Happy to have reignited the spark, Annie tells Jay to delete the recording from the iPad. In post-coital bliss, Jay forgets and synchs his iPad to his computer. Now, thanks to the cloud and carelessness, Jay and Annie’s X-rated romp has been loaded onto all the iPads that Jay has given away.
    Can the couple retrieve them before their reputations are ruined? Or should they film a sequel?
    Rude, raunchy and ridiculous, Sex Tape is funny in spite of its plot. The misplaced sex tape has been done in sitcoms over the years, so the concept of a suburban couple terrified that their friends and family will find out that they have sex isn’t a new one. Still, the ease with which information is shared in the digital age could offer up some interesting problems for Annie and Jay.
    Director Jake Kasdan (Bad Teacher) isn’t interested in the implications of our media-obsessed culture. His interest is having Diaz flail and make funny faces while Segel flops from pratfall to pratfall. Nor is the crisis believable given what we know about the characters. It seems improbable that a guy who has cycled through at least six iPads in a year knows almost nothing about the cloud, which Segel’s Jay seems to think is a magical entity. There’s also a way to erase data remotely from synched iPads, but Segel and Diaz are too busy panicking to call tech support.
    Lazy plotting and lazier character development make Sex Tape a substandard film. That doesn’t mean it isn’t funny. Kasdan has stacked the deck with so many weird situations and outrageous lines that you’ll find something funny. Diaz and Segel are veteran comedians who can land a punch line out of sheer will. They are aided by supporting players who wring laughs out of the meager script. Rob Lowe, in particular, does some weird and wonderful work as Diaz’s seemingly conservative boss.
    Watching the movie is a bit like coming across your neighbor’s sex tape: You know you shouldn’t watch it and it probably won’t be that well-made, but that won’t necessarily stop you.

Fair Comedy • R • 94 mins.