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Arts and Culture (Theatre Reviews)

Captivating, with fine singing, ­excellent choreography, ballet-­quality dancing and a pianist who never misses a beat

With Brigadoon, Compass Rose Theatre brings a fantastical Scottish paradise to life in the highlands of Annapolis. It’s right here amongst the braes. I don’t know what a brae is, but I can tell you this:
    Bagpipes set the mood, so we’re in Scotland. Two young Americans, Tommy (Mike McLean) and Jeff (Lansing O’Leary), appear on the minimalist set, looking down on what we take to be a valley. They’re lost in the highlands. They hear faint music, and through the mist they spot a village. They decide to pay a visit, hoping to get directions to their inn.
    Entering the village, the men find themselves in Brigadoon, a place with a lot of young, pretty women and a few Tartan-clad men of the McClaren clan. A festive atmosphere prevails as the village prepares for a wedding.
    The Yankee newcomers join in the village revelry, dancing and cavorting with the lasses in the freest of manner. Natural human chemistry comes into play, and (as often happens) our two worthies are caught up in what may become budding romances. Meg (Megan Tatum), a lissome maid, is attracted to Jeff and persuades him to come away with her for a wee chat. Tommy and Fiona (Katherine Riddle) stroll off for serious conversations. Their relationship deepens, though Tommy has a fiancée back in New York.
    With fine singing voices, excellent choreography and ballet-quality dancing, backed up by a pianist who never once misses a beat, this play is captivating. We soon lay aside the simple romantic storyline and are caught up in the spirit.
    In a wee discussion, town schoolmaster Mr. Lundie (Greg Jones Ellis) allows the visitors a peek at an old Bible in which certain entries have been inscribed. Coincidences come to light. We learn why the denizens are so worry-free. There are, however, complications. Tommy and Jeff learn that the village appears for only one day every hundred years. This circumstance is the result of an old spell. The downside is that if anyone leaves the village, the spell (the denizens call it The Miracle) will be broken.
    “Why do people have to lose things in order to find them?” Jeff and Tommy lament as they debate the merits of staying in Brigadoon and living happily ever after, versus returning to the real world and its tribulations. It comes down to a crunch: our two Yanks have to make major ­decisions.
    However, the play speaks to the power of pure love, making anything possible.
    They return to America.
    Tommy ends his relationship with his erstwhile NY fiancée and, pining for Fiona, returns to the place where Brigadoon used to be. As expected, there’s nothing there, but lo! … You’ll have to see the play.
    My nominations for standout performances, I lay at the feet (literally) of the lasses who do most of the dancing: Katherine Riddle, Megan Tatum, Megan Schwartz, Ryann Lillis and Elizabeth Spilsbury. The willowy Megan Tatum does an especially good turn on the dance floor. She also shines in her two acting roles.
    In the singing category, kudos go to all and especially the fine tenor Max McLean in the role of Tommy the bridegroom.
    All of the actors made their roles live, but occasionally the dialogue was overridden by the music. However, it’s a small stage, and the piano work was superb.
    This play is well acted, well sung and well danced. You can’t beat that combination.

Brigadoon: Book and lyrics by Alan J. Lerner; music by Frederick Loewe. Director: Lucinda Merry-Browne. Choreographer: Emily Frank. Stage manager: Mary Ruth Cowell. Pianist: Eric Clark. Costumes: Renee Vergauen. Thru Dec. 20. Th 7pm, F 8pm, Sa 2pm & 8pm, Su 2pm, Compass Rose Theater, 49 Spa Rd., Annapolis, $38 w/discounts, rsvp:; 410-980-5857.

Scientific suppositions clash with religious superstitions at the United States Naval Academy

Bertolt Brecht’s key question in his play Galileo — whether society can stand on doubt and not on faith — refers to the astronomer’s trial by the Inquisition for his heretical theory of heliocentricity. The question had parallel relevance on Galileo’s opening night at the Naval Academy, just hours after terrorist attacks in Paris. Billed as an exploration of the scientist’s responsibility to the world, this show is an apt undertaking for the Masqueraders, a troupe of our nation’s future scientists and leaders in an age of technological progress and pandemic regress. The script sparkles with timely aphorisms, such as This is the millennium of doubt, and Truth is the daughter of time, not authority.
    Longtime director Christy Stanlake picked a supernova for her final Masqueraders production. Rich in spectacle and drama, with live musical interludes and supertitles summarizing each scene, this historical drama is engaging and understandable — despite a platoon of multicast actors in Mahan Hall’s grievous acoustics.
    From Padua to Venice, Florence and Rome, the play follows Galileo (Jett Watson) in his visionary orbit of honor and derision. Rather than presenting a straight-up hero, this post-World War II revision of the play shows a protagonist of nuanced ­character.
    There’s Galileo the brilliant astronomer and teacher to Ludovico (Tim Burnett), Sagredo (Leith Daghistani), Andrea (Megan Rausch) and Fulgonzio (Chris Hudson), a little monk of humble origin …
    Galileo the debater opposite University Curator Priuli (Orion Rollins), the Cardinal Inquisitor (Daghistani) and Pope Urban VIII (John Mendez), an enlightened scholar turned traitor to reason …
    Galileo the sycophant appealing to nine-year-old Prince Cosimo de Medici (Josh Ryan) …
    Galileo the egotist, glutton and opportunist, profiting from the telescope as if it were his own invention …
    Galileo the manipulator (the shortest distance between two points may be a crooked line) …
     Galileo the victim, who recants his revolutionary theory and is nevertheless sentenced to house-arrest for the final nine years of his life …
    Galileo, father to Virginia (Clara Navarro), a simple girl of simple aspirations whose engagement to Ludovico is broken on account of her father’s notoriety.
    The costumes are spectacular, most notably in the April Fool’s revelry, a fantastic parade of eye candy and garbled mayhem staged to illustrate public derision of Galileo for his outlandish theory. The sparse but majestic set is period save for a massive globe whose modern depiction of the world somehow slipped by a roomful of future navigators. As for the acting, this is a solid student production in which Watson impresses in the title role and Daghistani finesses opposing roles as his best friend and worst foe. There is even a delightful clique of children.
    In a clash of scientific suppositions and religious superstitions — a debate that continues to this day — it is good to be reminded that there’s no such thing as a book of science that only one man can write. We are not, as it turns out, the center the universe. Yet to see Brecht’s depiction of Galileo, one might almost think that he believed he was.

Two and a half hours with intermission. With Oliver Abraira, Will Ashby, Kennedy Bingham, Colin Bower, Shenandoah Daigle, Moises Diaz, Nick Hajek, Shannon Hill, John ‘JPK’ Kroon, Miguel LaPorte, Cody Oliphant, Matty Ryan, High and Alec Michalski-Cooper and Evan Wray. Technical director: Jason Henry. Set and costume design: Richard Montgomery. Lights and sound: Dave Johnson and Jacob Pittman.
Playing thru Nov. 21 FSa 8pm, at Mahan Hall, U.S. Naval Academy, Annapolis, $12, rsvp: 410-293-8497;

The Forest of Arden magically becomes Cumberland Gap in the 1930s with country music and dancing

The Annapolis Shakespeare Company bills As You Like It as a bluegrass take on the Bard, offering a neighborly snoot to audiences that perhaps see Shakespeare as too snooty. Less bluegrass than traditional Americana, though, it features costumes straight from The Waltons, lively contra dances and such familiar old-timey tunes as I’ll Fly Away and Down in the River to Pray. There are Shakespearean lyrics set to melodies. You’ll recognize The Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond, and a touch of Stephen Foster (Hard Times).
    The music is a pleasant diversion, but not all the performers are experienced singers because As You Like It is about the plot. Typical Shakespeare, this story relies on royal intrigue and comedic contrivance with villains and exiles, love at first sight, a fool, a love triangle, disguises and summary resolution with redemption.
    Brotherly rivalries are the catalyst for action as young Orlando (Jonathan Feuer) resents his older brother Oliver (James Carpenter) for denying his birthright. When Orlando beats court favorite Charles (Reed DeLisle) at wrestling, envious Oliver plots his destruction. Happily, Orlando’s servant Adam (Richard Pilcher) warns him, and they flee to the Forest of Arden, where deposed Duke Senior (Carpenter) has already taken refuge. Unhappily, flight means Orlando must leave behind the woman he fell in love with that very day, Rosalind (Teresa Spencer), Duke Senior’s daughter.
    Rosalind, as cousin and best friend of Celia (Renata Plecha), the daughter of wicked Duke Ferdinand (Pilcher), has been allowed to remain at court for Celia’s sake — until the duke has a sudden change of heart and exiles her. The girls flee to Arden, taking the court jester, Touchstone (Gary DuBreuil). Rosalind disguises herself as a man (Ganymede) and Celia as a shepherdess (Aliena).
    In the forest, they meet a lovesick shepherd, Silvius (DuBreuil) who pines for the disdainful shepherdess Phoebe (Plecha). Touchstone pursues the lovely goat-herd Audrey (Megan Morse Jans), and the girls encounter the hermit/philosopher Jacques (pronounced Jayquees) and lovesick Orlando, who is living with the good duke’s band and has papered the forest with love poems to Rosalind.
    Rosalind (as Ganymede) offers to instruct him in the art of love, even as the shepherdess Phoebe pursues him. Through Rosalind’s machinations and the divinely inspired reformation of the wicked brothers, everyone reunites and four weddings ensue: Rosalind and Orlando; Celia and Oliver; Phoebe and Silvius; Touchstone and Audrey.
    With most actors portraying three characters — some not named here — the story is beyond confusing at times. To wit, three women play four brides simultaneously with minimal wardrobe adjustments.
    There is also something odd about characters dressed as simple country folk addressing each other as Duke This and Sir That. Three performers, however, rise above these limitations. Philchern shines as a unique persona in four central roles and delivers a memorable All the World’s a Stage speech.
    Feuer has a unique talent for infusing venerable lines with modern interpretations, and he also plays a mean guitar. The chemistry between his Orlando and Rosalind’s Spencer is palpable even as she swings from ingénue to pants role and back again. Also notable is Jans’ splendid mezzo, evident in her solo Under the Greenwood Tree, a Shakespearian lyric.
    Another hallmark of this professional troupe is its ability to transcend set, performing on an empty stage with lighting suggestive of foliage against a simple forest backdrop decorated with picture frames and Orlando’s many love letters.
    Shakespeare lovers will appreciate this thoughtful new interpretation of a classic. But if you’re unfamiliar with the play, brush up on plot to have any hope of following. This is a fast-paced, sometimes humorous and sad, two and a half hours with ­intermission.

Director: Sally Boyett. Choreography and music: Megan Morse Jans. Scenic designer: Mariana Fernandez. Fight choreographer: Casey Kaleba. Voice and dialect coach: Nancy Krebs. Lights: Adam Mendelson. Sound: Gregory Thomas Martin.
Playing thru Nov. 15 FSa 8pm, Su 3pm, Studio 111, 111 Chinquapin Round Rd., Annapolis, $40 w/discounts, rsvp: 410-415-3513;

If you don’t love this show, I will personally refund your money

What do you expect from an iconic musical winner of five Tonys, a Grammy and an Oscar? A show so revered it cemented the careers of Shirley Jones and Robert Preston, and launched little Ron Howard to stardom?
    At 2nd Star Productions, expect the perfect delight of screen and vinyl.
    The Music Man tells a story as old as human nature about opportunism and naiveté, exceptionalism and jealousy — with humor. It’s nostalgic and sweet without being sappy, it’s upbeat and colorful, and it’s delivered in spectacular song and dance. If you don’t love this show, I will personally refund your money.
    E. Lee Nicol strikes just the right chord as Professor Harold Hill, the Gilded Age flimflammer who revolutionizes a parochial town with his bogus vision for a boys’ band he knows he can’t deliver. Yes, Ya Got Trouble right here in River City. Even prim and lovely Marian the Librarian (Emily Mudd) can’t resist this dynamic, quick-witted huckster, especially when Hill helps her little brother, Winthrop (Andrew Sharpe), overcome debilitating shyness.
    Hill transforms the quarrelsome school board through rich barbershop harmony with, in order of height, Nathan Bowen’s anchoring bass and David Merrill’s soaring tenor bookending Brian Binney and Kevin Cleaver’s mid-range voices, parrying each of their inquiries into his qualifications with the suggestion of a song: Lida Rose or Goodnight Ladies, the last performed in duet with the gossiping Pickalittle Ladies (Allison Baudoin, Victoria Rose Brown, Rosalie Daelemans, Kirsti Dixon, Diane Schwartz) as they justify their unwavering scorn for Marian.
    This provincial town is full of unforgettable characters. You meet the self-important Mayor and Mrs. Shinn (Martin Hayes and Jeanne Louise) and their ditzy daughter Zaneeta (Abigail Wallen), who is secretly dating that wild kid Tommy Djilas (Daniel Starnes). There’s Marcellus Washburn (Brian Mellen), Hill’s former accomplice turned upright citizen; Marian’s plain-spoken mother, Mrs. Paroo (Carole Long) with the brogue; and teasing Amaryllis (Vanessa Daelemans) who is enamored of Winthrop. There’s even a salacious traveling salesman, whom Marian waylays in order to save Hill — Nicholas Mudd (Charlie Cowell) — played by Marian’s (Emily’s Mudd’s) real husband. As the credits attest, this is a family show both on and off-stage.
    Beautifully cast with winning leads, this production also features townsfolk of all ages and shapes. The ensemble is tight, from the percussive patter of peddlers on a train (Rock Island) to show-stoppers such as the Wells Fargo Wagon and Seventy-Six Trombones, complete with stunning dances featuring Andrew Gordon and Tabitha Thornhill. Even the pit orchestra outshines any that 2nd Star has assembled in years. There’s love (Till There Was You), patriotism (Columbia, Gem of the Ocean) and zaniness (Shipoopi). There are five, count ‘em, five meticulous sets and gorgeous period costumes in a bouquet of eye-popping colors. With clever staging, a train car appears to actually scroll past the town. Only the lighting seems off at times with low lights obscuring rather than showcasing the dancers.
    Harold Hill is a wise man. “Pile up enough tomorrows and you’ll have a pile of empty yesterdays,” he warns. Don’t let many tomorrows pass without catching this great show.

With Kaitlin Fish, Paula Farina, Maureen Mitchell, Erica Miller, Julian Ball, Madison Pyles, Aubrey Baden III, Eric Meadows, Genevieve Ethridge, Isabelle Gholl, Michael Mathes, Tyler White, Erin Culfogienis, Nicole Hoyt, Creedence H. Jackson, Snowdenn A. Jackson, Bay Moore and Aaliyah Schultz.


By Meredith Willson. Director and set designer: Jane B. Wingard. Costumes: Elizabeth Starnes and Jeane Binney. Musical director: Joe Biddle. Choreography: Andrew Gordon. Lights and sound: Garrett R. Hyde.
Playing thru Nov. 14. FrSa 8pm, Su 3pm, Sa Nov 14 at 3pm, Bowie Playhouse, White Marsh Park Dr., $22 w/discounts, rsvp: 410-757-5700.

Twin Beach Players stages to scare

Twin Beach Players is making a habit of scary world premieres. This Halloween, it’s H.G. Wells’ unsettling science fiction novel, The Island of Dr. Moreau, adapted by playwright-in-residence Mark Scharf. Last year Scharf adapted The Legend of Sleepy Hollow to Twin Beach Players’ time and place; in 2013, he gave us Frankenstein.
     “I try to keep it simple,” Scharf said, “having an appreciation for the resources Twin Beach Players provide. It tickles me that a small community theater can successfully take the kind of risks that Twin Beach Players have, incorporating original music to an original adaptation with costumes and special effects make-up. Performing this way, you’re playing to win, and people will come to support you.”
    In this spooky production directed by Players’ president Sid Curl, Scharf made his mission “to capture H.G. Wells’ vision of what it means to be human and in pain.”
    The set is minimalist in black. In the background a cycle of original futuristic-sounding tribal music mixes with jungle sounds, tickling the imagination about what the Frankensteinian doctor might be up to on this island.
    To eerie effect, the 17-member cast of adult and young actors plays both human and hybrid creatures. Among the humans, Ethan Croll conveys shipwrecked Edward Prendick’s unexpected plight with pensive and intense demeanor. Jim Weeks transforms Montgomery from rescuer to conspirator. Rick Thompson capably projects a scheming and sinister Dr. Moreau.
    Among the hybrids, Melly Byram plays Moreau’s servant; Angela Denny, a Dog-Creature; Angela Knepp, the indeterminate Sayer of the Law, Brianna Bennett, an Ape-Creature; Jenny Liese, a Puma Woman; Alayna Stewart, a Leopard-Creature; Mickey Cashman, a Hyena-Swine-Man; Laura Waybright, a Fox-Bear-Witch; Olivia Phillips, a Satyr; and M.J. Rastakhiz, a Wolf-Bear-Man. They wear Skip Smith’s transformative special effects make-up and make effective physical and vocal character choices.
    I suspect that over a few performances they’ll master their pacing, which on opening night tended to ­be sluggish.

Thru Nov. 1. FSa 8pm (except 9pm on Oct. 31); Su 3pm. Trick-or-treat show Th Oct. 29 7pm: pay as you may; free popcorn nightly for costumed playgoers, Boys & Girls Clubs of Southern Maryland, 9021 Dayton Ave., North Beach. $15 w/discounts, rsvp: 410-286-1890, ­

Moving rifts on the decline of jazz and a family

“Jazz is life.” So says Jim Reiter, director of Colonial Players’ Side Man, billed as an elegy for a lost love and a lost world. Both jazz and life, he explains, are propulsive, rhythmic and sometimes distorted improvisations where we all riff on the expectations set before us.
    Unfortunately, musicians can’t riff on life as easily as they can on a tune, which is the point of this autobiographical tragicomedy by Warren Leight (producer of TV’s Law and Order). Winner of the 1999 Tony Award winner for Best Play, this show about the decline of jazz and its effect on Leight’s dysfunctional family is a shot of heartbreak, heavy on nostalgia, with a chaser of resentment.
    Clifford Glimmer (Jason Vellon) is the glue holding this show — and his family — together, narrating 30 years of recollections as a voyeur on his past. The sensitive white sheep of the family, he seems too sensible to be the offspring of Gene and Terry. For as he puts it, “the rocks in her head fit the holes in his.”
    Gene (Timothy Sayles) is a brilliant but unambitious trumpeter destined for obscurity as a sideman to the greats. Playing backup to the likes of Dizzy and Sinatra, he improvises life by eking out weekend gigs to supplement his welfare checks. He means well but is more devoted to his art and fellow artists than to his family.
    Terry (Mary McLeod) is the long-suffering wife to “that rat-bastard.” A naïve divorcée trapped in a neglected marriage, she finds comfort and tragic transformation in the bottle as Gene devotes himself to his music and his pals.
    Al (Richard Koster) is a Romeo trumpeter. Ziggy (Richard Estberg) is a trumpeter with a repertoire of bad jokes and a speech impediment. Jonesy (Ben Carr) is a trombonist with a uniquely philosophic outlook and a calamitous heroin addiction. Because every band needs a groupie, there is Patsy (Ali Vellon), the vixen waitress and serial seductress.
    As characters and as actors, they are a compelling bunch. Jason Vellon and McLeod are tearjerkers, sharing some of the tenderest moments when she is at her most hysterical.
    Likewise, Carr knows just how to coax the most pathos from his pitiful junkie without crossing the line to disdain. Sayles’ character is maddeningly oblivious to just how maddening he can be. Koster and Estberg are attentive to the details that convey musicianship, such as blasting a few notes on an instrument or listening with keen appreciation to an extended musical passage shared with the audience. Ali Vellon shows impressive range, swinging from seductress with the band to mother figure opposite her real life husband, Jason.
    Most of the cast, however, is skewed older than is convincing for a play that spans three decades.
    My main quibble is with the playwright for dispensing with two major plot points effortlessly. The resulting denouement feels a bit like the end of a windup toy’s run.
    The design team deserves kudos for the split set — half living room and half lounge — that is just shabby and smoky and greasy enough to feel real and raw with authentic touches like metal TV trays. Simulated television broadcasts with pulsing spotlights to illuminate the small screen evoke a familiar hominess.
    If you love jazz, you will love this play. If you don’t love jazz, you will still find this a moving and meaningful show, if a bit long in places.
    Adult language, drug references and mature themes. Two hours with intermission.

Director: Jim Reiter. Stage manager: Herb Elkin. Set designer: Carol Youmans. Sound: Sarah Wade and Reiter (music). Lights: Eric Lund. Costumes: Fran Marchand and Paige Myers.

Thru Oct. 31. ThFSa 8pm, Su 2pm, plus 7:30pm Su Oct. 25, Colonial Players, 108 East. St., Annapolis, $20 ­w/discounts, rsvp:

As You Like It plays simultaneously

In tribute to the master of macabre, Annapolis Shakespeare Company kicked off its 2015-2016 season on Edgar Allan Poe’s death day with the world premiere of Gregory Thomas Martin’s play in his honor. Descending the back steps to the 1747 cellar pub in historic Reynolds Tavern in Annapolis, you feel as though you indeed have entered a bygone era. The room you are shortly ushered to is small and dimly lit.
    In part it’s the exposed brick walls, wooden beams and brick inlaid floor. Simple sconces light the dark room. There is an open fireplace and five high tables and chairs for the audience. Two candles sit atop each table.
    Crumpled sheets of paper have fallen to the floor under another high table and chair by the bar. While you eat, Poe, played by Broadway actor Brian Keith MacDonald, pulls back a red curtain and slips into the small room. He sits alone at the table by the bar, dressed in black but for a white shirt, mumbling, looking through notes and writing at a simple wooden writing desk.
    A barkeep, played by Renata Plecha, is dressed simply in brown, her hair tied back in a bun. She tidies up the bar, then lights the second candle on each table.
    These two resident company actors share the stage with you, the audience. Over the next hour, you hear many famous Poe works — including Annabel Lee, Lenore and The Raven — joined together to give a glimpse into Poe’s fragile state of mind and heart during his final days.
    McDonald evokes varying intensities of exultation and angst as Poe. Preparing for the role, he not only learned the script but also researched what Poe’s contemporaries said about him. Sharing the stage with Plecha also helped. “She provides a wonderful contrast,” he told me, “helping pull Poe in and out of his mental realities.”
    Plecha transitions easily through her roles as Barkeep, Eliza and Poe’s Muse. Of her roles she says: “Eliza, Poe’s love, appears to Poe through flashbacks of events in Poe’s life, representing hope and love. The Muse inspires a lot of Poe’s writings, which turned darker after Eliza dies.”
    Research into Poe and his Eliza (Virginia Eliza Clemm Poe) supports her characterization, as well. “All is happening in Poe’s mind,” she told me, “and the space is so intimate that every moment has to be believable.”
    Deliberate movements and vocal variety add depth to both McDonald’s and Plecha’s characters.
    Sally Boyett, producing artistic director of the Annapolis Shakespeare Company and director of Poe, commissioned the play and collaborated with the native playwright in support of the company’s mission to create new works, making them and classics accessible to all audiences.
    Poe “seemed like a good fit for the fall season, the Reynolds Tavern and Poe’s ties to this area,” Boyett said. She adds that this show is a “cerebral production that puts Poe’s own words in a new context.”
    In keeping with its mission, the Company will provide a variety of offerings this season including two Shakespeare plays and five classics that are, Boyett says, “adaptations through a modern lens.”
    Poe plays on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. Included in the single ticket price of $75 is a three-course prix fixe meal, gratuity, soda and iced tea and a seat near the actors. A cash bar, coffee and tea are additional. Two half-hour acts are separated by a 10-minute intermission.
    Meanwhile, the company’s second offering, William Shakespeare’s comedy, As You Like It, opens this weekend.
    As You Like It is Boyett’s modern adaptation set in 1930s’ Appalachia. It includes classically trained actors doubling in roles, bluegrass music, vocalists and much more.
    While simultaneously performing in Poe, Plecha will portray the roles of Celia and Phoebe in As You Like It, which she calls “a play on how love manifests itself in different forms.”

Poe: thru Nov. 25 TuW 6:30 dinner, 7pm show, 1747 Pub at Reynolds Tavern, Annapolis. $75; rsvp: 410-415-3513;

As You Like It:  Oct.17-Nov. 15 FSa 8pm, Su 3pm, also 2pm Sa Nov. 7 & 14, Annapolis Shakespeare Company’s Studio 111, 111 Chinquapin Round Rd., Annapolis. $25-$55: 410-415-3513;

If it’s entertainment you’re after, seeing this one is elementary

Fancy a spot of mystery to sharpen the old mind after summer’s idyll? Then you must check out Sherlock’s Last Case by Charles Marowitz, showing at Colonial Players through September 26. While I am forbidden by Colonial and Scotland Yard to divulge the particulars of this brilliant whodunit, trust me when I say Annapolis’ grand dame of amateur theater has produced another winner with this escapist spoof, rich in one-liners and plot twists.
    Here we have Sherlock Holmes (Jim Gallagher), sleuth extraordinaire, at his best: an aficionado of violin, fencing, handwriting analysis, history, chemistry, psychology, yoga and Jiu Jitsu, with a peerless intellect and ego to match. So what if Marowitz’s Sherlock is a touch more pompous than we remember? He has earned that privilege, especially since he dispatched his evil nemesis, Dr. Moriarty.
    Enjoying retirement at his cozy Baker Street home, Holmes is ensconced in silk settees and smoking jackets, listening to chamber music and bantering with his loyal associate Dr. Watson (Nick Beschen), that jolly good fellow. Blessed is the man who can count on such an indulgent friend. There’s also efficient housekeeper Mrs. Hudson (Lisa KB Rath), upon whom they both rely for sustenance and the civilizing touch of a woman. She also comes in handy for amusement, as Holmes loves to joke about her parsimonious Scottish nature. Other than such entertainment and the newspaper, however, life is so boring that Holmes has taken to the opium pipe with renewed gusto.
    Then a letter arrives from Moriarty’s outraged son, Damion, followed by a visit from his daughter, Liza (Erin Leigh Hill). A delicate auburn-haired beauty who catches Holmes’ attention with her fair looks and temperament, Liza understands her late father’s faults all too well and has come to arrange a truce between Holmes and her brother, who resides in (shudder) America. No sooner has she left, however, than a mysterious assailant hogties Watson in the closet and threatens Holmes with death. Enter the venerable Inspector Lestrade (Morey Norkin), and by scene three the thriller is off and running.
    Marowitz’s script, winner of the Louis B. Mayer Award, challenges the audience to solve the perfect crime by thinking beyond the evidence and taking nothing for granted. It also entertains with such a rich repertoire of parodies and puns that you will find yourself stifling laughter so as not to miss the next zinger.
    This production, directed by Beth Terranova, is brilliantly cast with Gallagher delivering a spot-on Sherlock. Beschen, though a touch soft-spoken, brings lovable new dimension to the typically circumscribed Watson. The Victorian costumes — by Carrie Brady with Regina Todd — are stunning, and the accents — coached by BettyAnn Leesberg-Lane — melodious. The only hole in this show is the lighting: so dark during the two key suspense scenes as to be soporific, and so bright with black light effect at curtain as to be blinding.
    This is a don’t-miss, even for those who, like yours truly, don’t ordinarily go in for mysteries. If it’s entertainment you’re after, it’s elementary.
    Two and a half hours with intermission. Includes simulated smoke, gunfire and blood.

Th-Sa 8pm, Su 2pm, plus 7:30pm Sept. 13 (Sept. 13 only, students free with available seats at curtain time); thru Sept. 26. 108 East St, Annapolis, $20 w/discounts, rsvp: 410­-268-­7373.

Your inner child will want to see it again and again — even without Cousin Itt

“America has loved the Addams Family for 80 years, and now we have a rerun marathon of your favorite creepy and kooky characters in the flesh and blood. They’re all back (minus Cousin Itt) in a surprisingly sanguine musical that celebrates family values through the generations. Annapolis Summer Garden Theatre’s production will keep you smiling from the moment Thing cues the overture until the inspirational finale, Move Toward the Darkness.
    Gomez (Vince Musgrave) and Morticia (Alicia Sweeney) are a matched couple. He a devoted family man and she a macabre lovely, they share a passion for life and death. Gomez revels in his whacky Spanish ancestry in the opening tango, When You’re an Addams, while Morticia celebrates their complete candor in her cha-cha, Secrets. But when daughter Wednesday (Lucy Bobbin) confides a secret love affair to her father, Gomez has two problems: Morticia’s possible reaction and his sorrow that, as he sings, Wednesday’s Growing Up. Love is also a problem for little brother Pugsley (Drew Sharpe/Matthew Beagan) with whom Wednesday shares a sadomasochistic sibling rivalry. Cue the waltz What If She Never Tortures Me Anymore?
    Wednesday’s boyfriend, Lukas Beineke (Daniel Starnes), is a conservative Midwestern tourist she met while crossbow hunting on the Addams property in Central Park. A disastrous dinner with his parents, Mal (Jim Reiter) and Alice (Andrea Ostrowski Wildason), ensues, despite Wednesday’s pleas for One Normal Night. When Mrs. Beineke accidentally imbibes one of Grandma’s (Ginny White) herbal truth serums while playing Full Disclosure, a game “loosely based on the Inquisition,” she lambastes her control-freak husband in the grave Lament. Uncle Fester (Eric Meadows) comes to the rescue by summoning the dead Addams ancestors to keep the Beinekes hostage until all can resolve happily ever after. For despite his upbringing, the suitor who aspires to be a coroner is an Addams at heart.
    This cast shines brighter than a blue moon. Musgrave draws on his Cuban heritage to create the quintessential Spaniard with a versatile voice of gold: tortured in the tango, Not Today, urgent in the habanera, Trapped, introspective in Happy Sad and haunting in Morticia (“the screams she saves for you, the hell she puts you through!”).
    Sweeny, every curvaceous inch Morticia with the mincing step and withering deadpan, is most compelling in her cheery softshoe, Death Is Just Around the Corner. As Wednesday, Bobbin is as cold as ice and hot as flames with a voice and moves to wake the dead in her pulsing solo, Pulled. As her suitor,  Starnes is charming and lovable in his salsa-infused rock anthem, Crazier Than You. Sharpe is a vulnerable, hollow-eyed Pugsley. As Uncle Fester, Meadows is sweet strumming a ukulele and crooning love songs to the moon. Reiter is too convincing as the unfeeling square, while Wildason is maddening with her Pollyanna-style rhyming couplets. And Steve Streetman is uncanny as the Frankensteinean butler Lurch. As for the chorus, they are the most spirited the company has ever gathered.
    With a dilapidated Victorian set complete with spider-patterned wallpaper, a torture chamber and sound effects featuring ghostly moans and the thumping of Poe’s Tell Tale Heart, you’ll feel right at home. Spotlights broadcast the silhouette of the creepy tree in the yard with a full moon projected onto the roof of a neighboring building, where Fester serenades from the parapet. The music features clever lyrics reminiscent of Weird Al and dance moves from the zombie to rigor mortis. Costumes are scary good with ghostly details like tire tracks across the back and nooses. There are a few awkward scene changes and special effects, but nothing to detract from an otherwise spooktacular show.
    As Director Debbie Barber-Eaton writes in her program notes, this is a show about the “family to which we all secretly wish to belong.” Your inner child will want to see it again and again — even without Cousin Itt. Buy your tickets now, before they all vanish.

Two hours and 45 minutes with intermission. By Marshall Brickman, Rick Elice and Andrew Lippa. Director: Debbie Barber-Eaton. Musical director: David Merrill. Choreographer: Jamie Miller. Costumer: Nikki Gerbasi. Set: Matt Mitchell. Lights: Matt Tillett. Sound: Dan Caughran. Musicians: Ken Kimble, Rich Estrin, Randy Martell, Trent Goldsmith, Reid Bowman, Zach Konick, Randy Neilson and Paul Pesnell.

With the chorus of Addams ancestors: Katie Gardner (bride), Kevin Cleaver (caveman), Michael Ruttum (conquistador), Ashley Gladden (courtesan), Karah Parks (flapper), Mariel White (flight attendant), Christian Gonzalez (gambler), Kristi Dixon (Native American), Nathan Bowen (Puritan) and Brian Mellen (sailor).

Th-Su thru July 25, W July 22, 8:30pm, Annapolis Summer Garden Theatre, 143 Compromise St.. $22; rsvp: 410-268-9212.

Billed as a smart and energetic musical comedy with a pop rock score and immensely likable story, this show delivers

With Baby, Infinity Theatre Company surpasses the high expectations raised over five years of bringing professional New York City productions to Annapolis each summer. This show delivers on its billing as a smart and energetic musical comedy with a pop rock score and immensely likable story. If you last saw it in the 20th century, you’re in for some surprises. The 1984 Tony-nominee was reworked in 1999 with new songs and significant plot twists that make it less idealistic than the original.
    Parenthood is an equal opportunity job — until it’s not. Thus, in a college town we have three diverse couples who all find at the same time that they are expecting. Two aren’t prepared, while one has been trying for years. You can guess which one is the false positive.
    Lizzie (Lauren Wright) and Danny (Nick DeVito) are undergraduate music majors who have just moved in together when they face the biggest decisions of their lives: to have or not to have it, to marry or not to marry. Arlene (Joy Hermalyn) and Alan (Erick Pinnick) are empty-nesters celebrating their 20th anniversary when she conceives during a champagne-fueled night of passion at The Plaza. Again the question arises: to have or not to have it? When she ultimately miscarries, there’s a new question: to remain or not to remain married? Then there are Pam (Erin Wegner Brooks) and Nick (Jon Reinhold), two athletic coaches who are desperate for a baby yet suffer the insult of infertility on the heels of her false alarm. For them the question becomes whether their marriage can endure the lack of a child.
    Chances are you don’t know the music yet, but you’ll leave humming three choruses: the driving feminist anthem I Want It All; the head-bopping Fatherhood Blues; and the hilarious Ladies Singing Their Song, featuring a Vaudevillian parade of intimate strangers who offer unsolicited advice and labor horror stories.
    Each song is memorable in the hands of this stellar cast. Wright’s The Story Goes On, a wondrous look at the cycle of life, will have you cheering. DeVito’s proposal, I Chose Right, will leave you breathless. Pinnick will make you laugh with recognition in Easier to Love, his wise juxtaposition of marital and paternal love. Hermalyn, who bears a striking resemblance to Bette Midler both vocally and physically, delivers a powerful and searching ballad, Patterns, about the many ways long-term marriages avert crisis with convention.    
    Hometown girl Wegner Brooks inspires hysterics and tears in her gymnastic song cycle Romance, segueing from romantic Tango to defeatist rant as she submits to the rules of love by the book. The voice you will yearn to hear more, from the first smooth jazz strains of Baby, Baby, Baby, is the rich baritone of Reinhold, a Robert Goulet for the new age. Equally unforgettable is his stirring duet with DeVito, At Night She Comes Home to Me.
    When is the right time to have a baby, to get married, to separate? These are the eternal questions. But in the end, it’s all about the couple, not the kids.
    As Lizzie collects teddies for the nursery, Pam collects teddies for the bedroom. Whichever you are, if you’ve ever experienced or pondered having a baby, this fabulous show will appeal to you.

Appropriate for ages 14 and above. Baby by Sybille Pearson, David Shire and Richard Maltby Jr. Directed by Igor Goldin. Musical director: Jeffrey Lodin. Set: Paul Tate de Poo III. Costumes: Tristan Raines. Lights: Jimmy Lawlor. Sound: Wes Shippee. Pit Band: Jeffrey Lodin, Laura Brady, Tom Harold and Ahren Buchheister. With Sam Hood Adrain, Alex Smith, Ana Marcu, Jacob Shipley and Emily Freeman.

Playing 2 & 7pm Th; 8pm Sa (and F July 31), 2pm Su, thru Aug 2. Children’s Theatre of Annapolis, 1661 Bay Head Rd.
$20-$36; rsvp: 877-501-8499;