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65 Years of Broadway! deserves its !

Long synonymous with musical theater excellence, 2nd Star Productions had a brilliant 2013-14 season with Children of Eden nominated for a WATCH Award as Outstanding Musical and Hello Dolly winning a Helen Hayes Award for All-Around Production Excellence.
    Now the company is celebrating with a star-studded musical revue.
    65 Years of Broadway! The Best Musicals, Abridged is a lively retrospective featuring all the Best Musical Tony Award-winning shows since 1949. The first — Kiss Me, Kate  — happens to be 2nd Star’s next show.
    The cabaret is compiled by Nathan Bowen, a WATCH nominee for Outstanding Featured Actor in a Musical for his role in Hello Dolly. In it he conveys both his passion for this genre and his comic appreciation of its excesses.
    Many tastes will find satisfaction here with 12 actors on a very small stage, performing under Bowen’s whimsical direction. You will thrill one minute to Phantom of the Opera and chuckle the next at the sight of the men’s chorus pirouetting and groveling on bended knee in All I Ask of You. The zealous young missionaries in Hello from The Book of Mormon will have you praying for breath from all the laughter. Then you get to sing along in the perennial favorites The Sound of Music, Cabaret, and Seasons of Love from Rent.
    With 65 songs in total, the entire cast gets to shine. E. Lee Nicol, star of Children of Eden, will break your heart in Not My Father’s Son (Kinky Boots) and I Am What I Am (La Cage aux Folles), then take you to Shangri La in Stranger in Paradise (Kismet).
    Pam Shilling — nominated for a WATCH award for Outstanding Feature Actress in Hello Dolly! — is exquisite in Send in the Clowns (A Little Night Music), Memory (Cats) and Bye Bye Blackbird (Fosse).
    Bowen, ever the comedian, gets to Put On a Happy Face (Bye Bye Birdie) and reunite with Dolly costar Daniel Starnes in Muddy Water (Big River) and in trio with Nicol for The Egg (1776). Starnes also shines in soli written for a young man of his age: Miracle of Miracles (Fiddler On the Roof) and All That’s Known (Spring Awakening).
    Cheryl Campo is empowering in Nothing (A Chorus Line), Shadowland (The Lion King) and As If We Never Said Goodbye (Sunset Boulevard).
    Emily Mudd shows off her vocal and acting range in Think of Me (Phantom of the Opera) and Buenos Aires (Evita).
    Michael Mathes, with his falsetto channeling of Frankie Valley, is so spot-on that when the male chorus spins into Sherry (Jersey Boys), you will swear it’s the recording.
    Young Sophia Riazi-Sekowski will touch you in Maybe (Annie). Geneva Croteau gets you dancing in I Can Hear the Bells (Hairspray). Cheramie Jackson gets into the groove in They Can’t Take That Away From Me (Crazy for You), Josh Hampton in What Do You Do (Avenue Q) and Alexandra Baca in Breathe (In the Heights). There’s even a stirring ensemble acappella rendition of Gold from Once.
    All the big composers you remember are represented here: Porter, Gershwin, Rodgers and Hart, Hammerstein, Bernstein, Hamlisch, Herman, Webber, Sondheim, and 35 others you may have forgotten or never knew about. There are also pop names that might surprise you such as Roger Miller, Elton John and Cyndi Lauper.
    This collection will not only get your toes tapping and your heart thumping but also pique your desire to check out Broadway’s more recent hits.
    Two hours (plus intermission) of pleasure for all ages.


Sixty-Five Years of Broadway! The Best Musicals, Abridged: Directed and Produced by Nathan Bowen. Musical director and accompanist: Laura Brady.

Playing March 13 & 14: The Shop, Cape St. Claire, Annapolis. $20: 410-757-5700; ­www.2ndstarproductions.com.

Loaded with two charming leads, this movie doesn’t quite pull off its con

Nicky Spurgeon (Will Smith: After Earth) has a charming smile and a light touch. He’s adept at cons from lifting wallets to convincing investors that an empty warehouse is the Federal Reserve. A third-generation conman, Nicky has managed to stay successful in the game by staying isolated.
    When he meets Jess (Margot Robbie: The Wolf of Wall Street), a beautiful con clumsily targeting horny men, he sees potential. Jess becomes his student in the true art of the hustle.
    Soon his able pupil can emerge from crowded streets laden with wallets, watches and jewels. When their professional relationship turns romantic, Nicky panics. Explaining that love is dangerous in their business, he tosses Jess a pile of cash and takes off.
    Three years later, Nicky is working a scam on a billionaire racing magnate when he spots Jess. His deft touch fails. Distracted and lovesick, Nicky tries for both Jess and the money. His dangerous play could cost him his life and the girl.
    If Focus were a conman, it wouldn’t be a very good one. In a movie about misdirection and distraction, plot is convoluted and the numerous twists are telegraphed obviously by writer/directors Glenn Ficarra and John Requa (Crazy, Stupid, Love). Experienced moviegoers will pick out twists long before they’re revealed. Watch for shots that last longer than they should.
    Nor does the film offer tension or propose stakes. The pair never seems in real danger, even when a gun is pointed at their heads. Nicky seemingly never makes a misstep, which creates a sense of invulnerability. Since Nicky is infallible, there’s no need to worry about him; everything must be part of his plan.
    Though the plot fizzles, the herculean efforts of the stars keep Focus watchable. Up and coming Robbie sparkles as Jess, who she makes an eager student who thrills at every watch she slips off her marks. Her enthusiasm and charm are beguiling, and she is susceptible to panic, which makes her interesting.
    As the man who has a plan, Smith’s Nicky is smooth to a fault. Smith fails to give Nicky vulnerability, but he succeeds in reclaiming his shine as a movie star. He’s slick, cool and exceptionally likeable as he hustles through the movie. Focus is an effective reminder of why Smith became one of the biggest stars of the screen, standing he lost in the wake of After Earth and Men in Black III.
    The stars work well together, too, and we fall for the way they play off each other.
    Focus isn’t a good crime film, but it’s an enjoyable romantic comedy. Buy a ticket for Smith and Robbie’s sexy banter. But don’t let them near your wallets.

Fair Romantic Comedy • R • 105 mins.

Listen up to tease plot from prattle

Colonial Players bills the World War II drama Watch On the Rhine as the first in their American Standard series, “presented for the nostalgia of older audiences or introduction to younger patrons.” As winner of the New York Drama Critics’ Circle Award for Best Play in 1941, this play would seem a good choice. It has star appeal: The hit film featured Bette Davis and Paul Lukas, who won an Oscar for Best Actor. It is historically compelling: A call to arms for a pre-war America grown complacent in the face of global discord. It smacks of scandal: Dramatist Lillian Hellman was blacklisted by the House Un-American Activities Committee because of her membership in the Communist Party.
    Yet for all its relevance and fine execution, this two-and-a-half-hour golden oldie feels moldy.
    Commenting on social conventions among the Roosevelt era’s upper middle-class, the play revels in trite gossip and quotidian trivia. It opens with irascible Fanny Farrelly (CeCe McGee-Newbrough), the widowed matriarch of a suburban D.C. mansion, preparing for the arrival of her daughter Sara (Theresa Riffle), whom she hasn’t seen in 20 years, along with Sara’s German husband, Kurt Muller (John Coe), and their children Joshua (Eli Pendry), Babette (Katie McMorrow) and Bodo (Andrew Sharpe).
    By way of preparation, Fanny barks orders to her butler, Joseph (Daniel M. Lopez II) and her live-in housekeeper, Anise (Mary MacLeod). She badgers her bachelor son David (Benjamin Wolff) about every aspect of his life that falls short of the standard set by his late father. She discusses with her houseguests, Count Teck de Brancovis of Romania (Timothy Sayles) and his young wife Marthe (Shannon Benil) such pressing issues as the weather, menus, jewelry and the social aspects of ambassadorial life. When she finally meets her son-in-law and grandchildren for the first time, it is with left-handed compliments and outright insults veiled as teasing. One understands why Sara stayed away for two decades.
    For one mind-numbing hour, we learn little more than the fact that the Mullers are impoverished and itinerant because of Kurt’s anti-Fascist work … that the Count and Countess are equally but secretly penniless … that Marthe is unhappy in her marriage … and that David is perhaps interested in her.
    The goldplate on their civility ­tarnishes when Teck rifles Kurt’s luggage for clues to his mysterious background. Teck, as it turns out, is an opportunistic aristocratic who know that Kurt is wanted for political crimes against the Nazi party. Being a gentleman, however, he offers to forget he ever saw Kurt in exchange for $10,000 hush money. Feeling that he must return home to save the lives of three colleagues, Kurt takes the blackmail into his own lawless hands and bids a tearful goodbye to his family. Fanny is left to cope with the realization that her world is no longer the safe cocoon she supposed it to be.
    Despite the play’s slow start, when the action finally comes, it explodes like a grenade. Meanwhile, the cast works hard to push their characters beyond their stodgy trappings. McGee-Newbrough brings a mix of condescension and compassion to her dowager widow. Sayles makes a suave and ominous villain. Wolff is the perfect put-upon eldest child, and Benil evokes our compassion as the embittered child bride. MacLeod is so comfortable as the long-time maid that she feels like ­family. As for the more sympathetic Mullers, Coe and Riffle blend a feeling of genuine affection with an air of mystery, while the children are models of comportment and cosmopolitan ­sophistication.
    The exquisite set features period antiques and a console radio that croons big-band swing. The costumes are sumptuous with gowns in moiré, chiffon and lace, and the men wear silk smoking jackets as they puff on their fruity pipes. The nostalgic trappings are so nice that they almost make one yearn for that simpler, more elegant time. Almost.
    In an era of sound bites where life is cheap both at home and abroad, this show may try your patience rather than keep you engaged. There are, however, exceptions: History buffs, amateur sociologists and enthusiasts of black-and-white cinematic classics will find this morality tale interesting.


Director: Terry Averill. Set designer: David Pindell. Sound: Sarah Wade. Lights: Matthew Shogren. Costumes: Bonnie Persinger. Fight choreographer: Mark Allen.

Playing thru Mar. 21: ThFSa 8pm, Su 2pm (and 7:30pm Mar. 8): Colonial Players Theatre in the Round, 108 East St., Annapolis; $20 w/discounts; rsvp: 410-268-7373; www.thecolonialplayers.org.

Beauty is in a guy’s eye

High school is a lot like the Occupy Wall Street movement: Only one percent of the student body is satisfied with their looks and lives. For the other 99 percent, it’s a four-year slog toward graduation.
    Bianca (Mae Whitman: Parenthood) is a senior who thinks she’s part of the one percent. Best friends since childhood with beautiful, smart and kind Jess (Skyler Samuels: American Horror Story) and Casey (Bianca A. Santos: Happy Land), Bianca takes it for granted that she’s as cool and popular as her friends. Her jock neighbor, Wesley (Robbie Amell: The Tomorrow People), shatters her delusion that she’s a worthwhile human being by informing her that she is a DUFF — Designated Ugly Fat Friend. As a DUFF, Bianca is the gatekeeper to her hot friends. Her existence is acknowledged only because of Jess and Casey.
    Bianca is confusingly beautiful and slender. Only her style of T-shirts and minimal makeup makes her a DUFF.
    Yet Bianca accepts this idiot’s opinion. She turns on her friends as traitors who befriended her so they would look better by comparison. She dumps them for Wesley, who helps transform her into a babe.
    With his advice on dressing, chatting up boys and making out, Bianca ascends the social ranks. She gives up schoolwork in favor of professionally styled hair and makeup. Who needs academic achievements when you’ve perfected the art of a good blowout?
    Director Ari Sandel (Aim High) fills the screen with emoticons and text-speak. Each frame looks like it’s pulled from a SnapChat.
    His characters are all horrible. Granted, teens aren’t always warm and likeable, but Bianca and Wes are such brats that it’s hard to conjure up much sympathy for either.
    The DUFF is the latest bad advice offered to kids in the guise of entertainment. As in most teen movies, this one has a message about being yourself and finding your inner beauty. But it’s hard not to notice that Bianca’s “true self” greatly resembles the dream girl Wes molded her into.
    Only teens could love this movie, though they shouldn’t.

Poor Comedy • PG-13 • 101 mins.

These spies could use some sensitivity training

There aren’t many gentlemen in Eggsy’s world (Taron Egerton: The Smoke). His stepfather is an abusive criminal, his friends are petty thieves and his mother refuses to let him leave home. When a stolen car and a high-speed chase through London land Eggsy behind bars, the outlook is bleak, until Harry Hart (Colin Firth: Before I Go to Sleep) shows up.
    Hart has the pull to get Eggsy sprung and charges his dropped. Hart, it seems, has always felt the need to repay Eggsy’s father for saving his life. He also offers Eggsy the chance of a lifetime: training to join the secret Kingsman gentlemen spies.
    Kingsman enjoy the freedom of independence. The only mission is to do good throughout the world. Named for one of King Arthur’s knights, each spy is a highly trained killing machine with impeccable outfits and outlandish gadgets.
    Eggsy joins a group of elite teens hoping to earn spots at the Kingsman’s table. While he trains, a media mogul known as Valentine (Samuel L. Jackson: Kite) is planning a nefarious new world order with the help of his henchwoman Gazelle (Sofia Boutella: Monsters: Dark Continent).
    A throwback to the James Bond-era of drinks, sexism, ridiculous violence and punn-ish jokes, Kingsman: The Secret Service could have been a fabulous over-the-top action romp along the lines of John Wick. It has all the elements: silly accents (from Jackson and Mark Hamill), thrillingly gory fight scenes and a charming cast. Director Matthew Vaughn (X-Men: First Class) is a deft hand at action, crafting fast-paced battles that are bloody, brutal yet beautiful. A musical sequence featuring exploding heads manages to be a hilarious tribute to ­Michelangelo Antonioni’s Zabriskie Point.
    As the bespoke spy whose impeccable manners make James Bond look like a back room brawler, Colin Firth exudes unflappable charm. He also convincingly sheds his posh exterior for a couple of fight sequences that highlight his physicality. As the successor to Hart, Eggerton is a talented new discovery with plenty of charm. His crooked smile and bravado help ease awkward dialog and scenes.
    With a talented cast, great action and a fun concept, what could go wrong? As it turns out, not much. Kingsman was well on its way to earning a place in the pantheon of action greats. Until its final 10 minutes.
    A running gag in the final moments is so vile and sexist that it nearly spoils the movie. Too crude to repeat in a family-friendly paper, the joke would have been at home in a Seth MacFarlane movie. It’s made worse by Vaughn’s dedication of the film to his mother.
    Too bad this fun and fast-paced thriller about gentlemen spies ends on a decidedly ungentlemanly note.

Great Action/Gross Humor • R • 129 mins.

A cacophony of noise and colors for youngsters

The secret to the harmonious life of the ocean town of Bikini Bottom isn’t friendship, love or understanding. It’s the Krabby Patty. The fast food treat is so addictive that the residents of Bikini Bottom can’t live without it. So when Mr. Krab’s (Clancy Brown: The Flash) secret formula for the Krabby Patty goes missing, the town falls into chaos. To prevent a Krab-induced apocalypse, fry cook SpongeBob SquarePants (Tom Kenny: Adventure Time) teams up with his nemesis Plankton (Mr. Lawrence: SpongeBob SquarePants) to find the secret formula. The search leads to the surface world, where the nefarious pirate Burger Beard (Antonio Banderas: The Expendables 3) may know the fate of the formula. Can SpongeBob save Bikini Bottom from a Krabby Patty crisis? Will the evil Plankton finally learn how to work with his neighbors instead of against them? Can your reviewer make it through this film without a flask? In the interest of full disclosure: I don’t have a child. I was unfamiliar with the travails of SpongeBob, Patrick and the rest of the Bikini Bottom crew, airing for nearly two decades on Nickelodeon. I imagine that most people buying a ticket to see this mass of loud noise and color will have been conditioned by the television show. Alas, my folly was attempting to watch a feature length film without inoculating myself with a few 30-minute episodes first. SpongeBob SquarePants: Sponge Out of Water is best enjoyed by smaller viewers. There are cute moments, but this is a film written and animated for the youngsters. As on television: there is no growth of characters and no real danger. All is back to normal before the credits role. Adults without knowledge of SpongeBob’s antics will find themselves lost in a sea of poorly written puns, silly noises and posterior-based humor. I was not the target demographic, but the film did very well with its intended audience. Children laughed, shouted and clapped their way through my screening. If you are taking a group of children, don’t waste your money on the 3D upcharge. Because of the flat animation style, 3D effects do little besides lightening your wallet. My bright spot was Banderas’ grizzled pirate. As the only human in the film, Banderas must adjust his performance accordingly. He shouts, snarls and high steps around his animated co-stars, clearly having the time of his life. His performance is so full of fun that you can almost forget how inane the plot is. Almost. Good Animation for Kids/Bad for Your Reviewer • PG • 93 mins.

You’ll get feeling as well as fun in this play on why actors do what they do

The quality that 2nd Star Productions brings to its big musical productions is exemplified not only by sold out houses but also by recognition among its peers. 2nd Star last month received 21 nominations from the Washington Area Theater Community Honors, a local collaborative of amateur theaters that judge each other’s shows and present awards in March. Only one of those nominations is for a non-musical, A Soldier’s Story. The majority were for the highly acclaimed Hello Dolly and Children of Eden. 2nd Star’s range is illustrated by its nonmusicals, as evidenced by that dramatic A Soldier’s Story, and more recently the intense and well-acted 12 Angry Men. Now, on the other end of that spectrum, comes the comedy farce I Hate Hamlet. The plot: Andy Rally (Zak Zeeks), a young, successful TV actor, comes to New York from Los Angeles after his hit show has been canceled. He rents a large, gothic apartment from real estate agent Felicia (Nicole Mullins). The apartment was once occupied by famed actor, womanizer and drunk John Barrymore (Fred Nelson). Andy isn’t too high on his agent Lillian’s (Carole Long) offer for him to play Hamlet in a Shakespeare in the Park production. He’s even less enthralled with his girlfriend Deidre’s (Malarie Novotny) determination to stay chaste until they are married. He’s tempted by his Hollywood buddy Gary’s (Daniel Douek) offer of millions to give up the New York theater life and do a TV pilot. Where to turn for guidance? And for a damned good sword fight? Barrymore himself, of course. As the ghost of Barrymore, not exactly alive but still very much kicking as he haunts his old digs, Fred Nelson stalks the stage with the intimidation of a star so macho that even his black tights strain against the testosterone. From his fluid physicality to his well-modulated voice, Nelson brings us a Barrymore who, for all his weaknesses in life, demonstrates a genuine passion for the stage and a compassion for those charged with playing the character many consider Shakespeare’s most difficult role. As Barrymore cajoles and convinces Andy to take on Hamlet, he also comes to grips with lost love in the form of Lillian, with whom he had a fling back in the day. A highlight of this show is the tender and funny scene between the two as they dance, quietly, in the dark and come close to rekindling that youthful lust. Long and Nelson are two fine actors. Their ability to take a fast-paced farce on a brief detour of affection is a fine lesson in the less is more school of thespianship. That’s a school that Zeeks as Andy seemed to graduate from as the second act rolled around. His first act of too-punched punch lines and overwrought volume eased into a more nuanced second act that offered a much clearer window into his character. Perhaps it was opening-night excitement, and as the run progresses the talented Zeeks will ease more comfortably into the role and reject the temptation to force things. He’s got the character right; he just needs to share Andy with the audience rather than hit us over the head with him. Director John Wakefield keeps the pace moving at a good clip, though he could have reined in some unnecessary mugging. Nowhere in the script — though it’s been a long time since I’ve read it — do I recall a strange accent indicated for the character of Gary. Douek is funny in the role and has wonderful stage presence, but too many of his lines are lost as the audience strains to understand this unidentifiable dialect. As always, Jane Wingard’s set design is a winner. Along with Garrett Hyde’s lighting, it invites us to settle in for an evening at Barrymore’s. Mary Wakefield’s costuming of Barrymore is spot on, though the bunny slippers on city girl Deidre were a cheap-laugh-seeking misstep. Quibbles aside, I Hate Hamlet is a funny, fast-paced and at times warm look at why actors do what they do. Thanks to Nelson’s mastery of the stage and his keen sense of when to envelop the audience and his cast mates in broad theatricality and when to simply tell a story, we’re treated to a farce that has feeling. Playing thru Feb. 22: FSa 8pm; Su 3pm (and 8pm Feb. 19): Bowie Playhouse at White Marsh Park, Bowie; $22 w/discounts; rsvp: 410-757-5700; www.2ndstarproductions.com.

What would you do if you lost yourself?

Forget The Conjuring and Paranormal Activity. The most bloodcurdling movie of the last five years is a quiet drama about a brilliant woman slowly losing everything that matters to her.
    Dr. Alice Howland (Julianne Moore: Mockingjay Part I) is a linguist, professor and sought-after speaker. The fiercely ambitious woman raised three children while climbing to the top of her field. She wrote the seminal textbook in linguistics, teaches a popular course at Columbia University and still finds time for date night with her doctor husband (Alec Baldwin: Blue Jasmine).
    On her 50th birthday, Alice is going strong, noticing only a few signs of aging. Sometimes she forgets a word when speaking to a class, as well as names. But when she gets lost jogging a well-known campus trail, she worries. Her diagnosis is much worse than the brain tumor she fears. She has early-onset Alzheimer’s disease.
    Refusing to be defeated, Alice throws herself into finding ways to keep her mind. But occasional lapses turn into frequent confusion. She can’t hold a conversation. Words slip from her mind just as she needs them. Her own home betrays her, and she finds herself lost.
    To her family, Alice’s descent is torture. Their strong, vibrant matriarch is reduced to childlike behavior. Husband John tries to be strong, but he misses his partner and escapes into work so that he can afford his wife’s expensive care and forget that the woman living with him now barely resembles his love. Her children help when they can, but watching her deteriorate means glimpsing their own possible futures.
    Poignant, beautiful and utterly terrifying, Still Alice shows us the horror that is Alzheimer’s disease. Directors Richard Glatzer and Wash Westmoreland (The Last of Robin Hood) wisely choose to underplay the drama, slowly building on Alice’s deteriorating state. There is no tension to the story, no miracle to save the day. The film peaks in the middle, when Alice breaks down. Thereafter it slowly fades away, mimicking Alice’s journey.
    As Alice, Moore proves that she remains one of the best actresses of her generation. Her performance is a slow descent into hell. Everything that makes up a person, her ability to express herself and her memories, is stripped away until Alice is a shell, capable of only the most basic vocalizations. It’s a brutal performance, one that will likely earn Moore the Oscar and one that will leave you weepy and uncomfortable.

Good Drama • PG-13 • 101 mins.

An impressionistic tale of a painter

J.M.W. Turner (Timothy Spall: Blandings) better expresses himself through paint than words. A famed member of the Royal Academy of Art, the Victorian artist travels Europe capturing vivid landscapes.
    Turner stands out from other academicians in more ways than one. They are refined; he is not. His manner is awkward and his speech accented with a thick brogue. His fame keeps him from humble circles, so he is often on his own. Closest to him is his father (Paul Jesson: Closer to the Moon), who has always supported his son’s art and works as Turner’s studio assistant.
    As his father’s health declines, Turner becomes more isolated. His only friend is Mrs. Booth, a landlady at a seaside town where he paints. He calls himself Mr. Mallord to maintain his anonymity, even as the friendship deepens to romance.
    Turner’s artistic obsession is capturing the spirit and the light of his subjects. He has a sailor lash him to the crow’s nest during a winter sea crossing to capture the light; he walks for hours in search of the perfect composition.
    Cinematography is stunning. Leigh fills his film with Turner’s paintings and its locales, treating us to sweeping seascapes, pastoral leas, surging trains and austere battleships.
    Spall’s performance is one of the best of the year. His Turner is an almost feral creature, driven by nature’s beauty. He grunts instead of speaking. He spits on his canvas in the middle of a show to loosen the oils and make changes. He watches human interaction with the interest of an alien observer.
    The artist is famous in his native England as an early experimenter in the style that would become known as Impressionist painting. But his international renown is not that of Picasso or Monet. Director Mike Leigh (Another Year) assumes a well-versed audience, so his film may be difficult to follow. Do yourself the favor of a bit of research before you go.

Good Biopic • R • 150 mins.

A farce to be reckoned with

The Liar adapted by David Ives
is a farce guaranteed to brighten lives.
Iambic pentameter is the way
This hilarity comes to modern day.

Written long ago by Pierre Corneille
Steve Tobin directs this quite funny play.
There’s a fine cast of players, they all shine.
And costumes and sets that all bring to mind
1600s’ France, where our play we find.

Fred Fletcher-Jackson’s the liar of note
The guy whose adventures are merely gloat.
Jackson’s Dorante is very uncouth
he just cannot seem to tell us the truth.
He meets two women, Lucrece and Clarice,
But the names get mixed, and the plot’s unleashed.
Meanwhile his father’s betrothed him away,
To one of the two? Well, I shall not say.

Geronte is the father, played by Marc Rehr
A doting dad, who thinks his son’s quite fair.
Rehr’s character shines, he takes us along
as Geronte wonders what’s right and what’s wrong.

Rebecca Ellis and Natasha Joyce
Give Lucrece and Clarice wonderful voice.
Their solid acting and stage presence make
Their way with a punchline easy to take.

Jeff Sprague as Cliton, servant of Dorante  
keeps the pace moving as fast as you want.
Sarah Wade’s twins, Isabelle and Sabine
Are two odd sisters, one flirty, one mean.

Seth Clute’s Alcippe, Ethan Goldberg’s Phileste,
Each get their own laughs with vivacious zest.

The silent Mike Winnick and Nicole Musho
Both play such intricate parts in this show.
They keep the set changes moving along
and get a few deserved laughs of their own.

As led by Tobin this cast is stellar
So good they can get laughs from a crueller.

Iambic pentameter’s not my thing
and it’s clear that my lines, they just don’t sing.
But if you want to laugh, let me just say
Colonial Players has the right play.

The Liar’s a romp, and it moves apace,
Tobin makes creative use of the space.
So hie yourself down to East Street, and fun.
For great entertainment, this is the one.


Director: Steve Tobin. Assistant director: Dave Carter. Stage manager: Ernie Morton. Costumer: Linda Swann. Set designer: Krisztina Vanyi. Lead carpenter: Dick Whaley. Lighting designer: Alex Brady.
About 2 hours and 30 minutes including intermission. Playing thru Feb. 7: ThFSa 8pm, Su 2pm (and 7:30pm Jan. 25) at Colonial Players Theatre in the Round, East St., Annapolis; $20 w/discounts; rsvp: 410-268-7373; www.thecolonialplayers.org.