Princess Kebabs, Anyone?

Eimi Taormini, Natasha Drena, Marissa Rudd, Colette Froehlich,
Theresa Swain and Shannon Gugenheim.

Disenchanted!

Dennis T. Giacino

Guggenheim Entertainment

June 22, 2019

If anything ever needed a good healthy skewering, it’s the Disney princess complex. The good news is, the ladies of Guggenheim Entertainment are doing just that, with Dennis T. Giacino’s biting, bawdy sendup of everything princessy.

The evening is hosted by Snow White (Colette Froehlich) a sort of head cheerleader/Gloria Steinem hybrid who’s ready to lead a revolution against The Mouse. She develops a fun repartee with a ditzy Cinderella (Theresa Swain) and a socially awkward Sleeping Beauty (Natasha Drena). The company has a grand time with general commentaries; “Big Tits,” for instance, takes on nerdy animators who give their teenage heroines curiously healthy racks. The number ends with a hooter parade, featuring actual headlights, honkers, and… pumpkins?

Colette Froehlich as Snow White.

The real points, however, are scored with the individual testimonials. Two of the best fell to Eimi Taormini. In “Without the Guy,” Mulan wonders if perhaps she didn’t end up with a prince because maybe she prefers princesses? In “Honestly,” Pocahontas keeps looking at her pornstar bod and asking why the story of the real, normal-looking Pocahontas wasn’t enough. (“And also, why do these leaves keep following me around?”) Both pieces deliver unexpected moments of poignancy, and also show off Taormini’s impressive pipes.

On the daffier side, there’s nothing like the casual chaos wreaked by Shannon Guggenheim. “Insane!” features Belle, strapped to a chair and beset by facial tics after years of talking to furniture. Later, she appears as a John Waters dominatrix version of Marlene Dietrich for Rapunzel’s “Not V’One Red Cent,” a protest of overmerchandising. Later, as The Little Mermaid, she abandons the anorexic “All I Wanna Do is Eat” to head for the concession stand, complaining all the way up the aisle - and then, naturally, returning with snacks for everyone. (Apparently, the whole stunt was improvised during rehearsals.)

Marissa Rudd appears in “Finally” to actually approve of a Disney move, the introduction of a black princess in The Princess Who Kissed the Frog. The most laughter-inducing piece was “A Happy Tune?,” in which Snow, Cin and Sleepy tell off their happily-ever-after hubbies, using a duck call and a triangle to bleep out the obscenities. It’s a standard sort of shtick, but it goes to filthy, hilarious extremes.

Natasha Dena as Sleeping Beauty

The regular luxury at Guggenheim shows is vocal strength all the way through the cast, which makes it so much easier to relax and enjoy the evening. This one also has a rockin’ little trio of piano, bass and drums.

Through July 21, 3Below Theaters, 288 S. Second Street, San Jose. 408/404-7711, 3belowtheaters.com

Michael J. Vaughn is an award-winning novelist and author of the plays Darcy Lamont and Café Phryque.

The Aria Comes to Life

Dvorak’s Rusalka

San Francisco Opera

June 21, 2019

Rachel Willis-Sorenson as Rusalka. All photos by Cory Weaver.

One of the more unique experiences of the opera aficionado is to fall in love with a particular aria, and then, perhaps years later, to finally see it in its theatrical context. I have been a fan of Dvorak’s Song to the Moon for a dozen years, owing largely to recordings by Renee Fleming and Barbara Divis. Only now, thanks to SFO, did I get it to see it in its proper context.

Kristinn Sigmundsson as the Water Goblin.

This level of attachment is a perilous thing. Boito’s “L’altra notte” is on that list, as well, and Patricia Racette did it no favors in SFO’s Mefistofele, drowning it in emotion. I’m happy to report that Rachel Willis-Sorenson fared much better with Song to the Moon, helped by an intensely lush approach from Eun Sun Kim and her orchestra (Olga Oretenberg-Rakitchenkov, harp). Willis-Sorenson possesses just the right broadness of tone and low-to-high range to pull it off. As she sang, pleading for a chance to become a mortal and meet her human lover, set designer John Macfarlane’s lakeside trees shifted aside to  reveal a gorgeously oversized full moon. The completeness of the experience was everything that I could have hoped for.

Sarah Cambidge as the foreign princess.

Willis-Sorenson continued her inspired vocalizing throughout the evening (except for the second act, when she was rudely required to be mute), and also captured the audience with her acting. Playing a water nymph completely out of sorts with her new human body, she radiated a painful physical anxiety.

Based on folk stories and works like Undine and Anderson’s The Little Mermaid, Kvapil’s libretto weaves these threads into a deeply conflicted view of interspecies love. There is always, he seems to say, a price to be paid. The intensity and suprising human-ness plays well with Dvorak, who, late in his great career, was creating from a full and fascinating palette. The opera incorporates turn-of-the-century features like through-composing, the use of folk songs and Wagnerian liet-motifs. (Bits of Song to the Moon, in fact, reappear regularly as Rusalka’s motif.)

Brandon Jovanovich as the Prince.

The players here are exceptionally strong. Rusalka’s father, the Water Goblin, is performed by Kristinn Sigmundsson, who delivers a stout bass and a domineering stage presence. He is forever scaring audience and characters alike with his surprising ascents through the stage floor. Tenor Brandon Jovanovich is his usual excellent self, lending a necessary charisma to the Prince. The audience has to care enough to resent his fickleness but pity his gradual madness.

Jamie Barton as Jezibaba.

One of Jezibaba's crows.

Mezzo Jamie Barton brings to Jezibaba (who grants Rusalka’s wish) a sense of cantankerous fun mixed with bits of sadism. As the jealous foreign princess, Sarah Cambidge has just the right level of bright sharpness (both tonally and actorly) to be amiably vicious.

Dvorak is such a masterful, inventive musician, it’s almost no surprise that he sometimes bogs down the stage action, but director Leah Hausman does a genius job of creating memorable stage visions. She is helped greatly by her dancers, who perform playful wood-nymph antics and beautiful ballets, as well as water-nymph lamentations for their lost sister that possess the sublime eccentricity of a Martha Graham work (choreography by Andrew George). As for Jezibaba’s crows, they nearly steal the opera.

Macfarlane’s royal hall is stunning, seemingly a mile long, and masterfully shadowed by David Finn’s lighting design. Moritz Junge’s costumes are endlessly inventive.

Through June 28, War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness, 415/864-3330, www.sfopera.com.

Michael J. Vaughn is the award-winning author of The Popcorn Girl and his latest work, A Painting Called Sylvia.

John Macfarlane's royal hall.

Beautiful Handel, Disappointing Story

Sasha Cooke as Orlando. Photos by Cory Weaver

Handel's Orlando
San Francisco Opera
June 15, 2019

It's got to be infuriating for a stage director to take on Handel. The pace is all directed to the music and the standards of the time, leaving tons of dead stage time, and the plot (at least this one) make very little sense.

Lord knows, Harry Fehr tried, and he came up with some viable ideas. In the wounded, mentally fragile warrior Orlando, he saw a prototype for PTSD, and placed the action in WWII England to make things more relevant. Then he turned the wizard Zoroastro into a wonder-working doctor and the shepherdess Dorinda into a nurse, and placed them in a clinic for soldiers.

Christian Van Horn as Zaroastro.

I like the ideas, but it doesn't make the action any less static or the plot more believable. People fall in love, out of love, and blame everything on either love or heartbreak. It's like an 18th century General Hospital. Clearly, plausible drama had not yet gained a foothold in the operatic zeitgeist. It could just be that Handel has the same effect on stagecraft as Wagner, creating music so big and magical that it leaves no room for theatrical demands.

And certainly there is wondrous music to be had. Playing Zoroastro, Christian Van Horn exhibits a thunderous bass-baritone and a dominating stage presence. Despite a virus limiting her power, mezzo Sasha Cooke played Orlando with tremendous vocal dexterity. The accuracy of her runs are priceless, and she gives a convincing account of her warrior's bursts of madness.

Aryeh Nussbaum Cohen possesses a hauntingly smooth countertenor, particularly moving in Medoro's aria "Verdi allori." The only disappointment is the generally excellent soprano Heidi Stober, who throws far too much emotion into her Angelica.

Christina Gansch as Dorinda.

The clear delight is Austrian soprano Christina Gansch, who is making her U.S. debut. Playing Dorinda, Gansch delivers an ebullient tone and presence, performing the coloratura aria "Amore e qual vento" with dazzle and fun. Her Dorinda has a lovely sense of humor, and works well as the eye of the clinic's hurricane.

The orchestra under Christopher Moulds is a treasure, featuring period instruments like recorders, a theorbo and two harpsichords. The feel is beautifully authentic. Yannis Thavoris's set is an agile wonder, quickly spinning into new rooms and angles. Andrzej Goulding's projections add a provocative visual dimension.

Through June 27 at War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Avenue. sfopera.com, 415/864-3330, $26-$398.

Michael J. Vaughn is the author of 22 novels, including Gabriella's Voice and Operaville.

What Makes Mamma Mia! Such a Hit?

Allison F. Rich, Adrienne Herro and Jill Miller

San Jose Stage

Mamma Mia!
June 1, 2019

Now that the musical with the ninth-longest run in Broadway history has hit the age of twenty, it might be fun to consider its place in musical theater.

The idea of using already-popular songs to piece together a musical story is hardly new. The most famous example is John Gay’s The Beggar’s Opera, a 1728 concoction that added new lyrics to ballads, folk songs and hymns to create its narrative (the story would later be used for Brecht and Weill’s Threepenny Opera). The first four decades of the 20^th century were filled with American musicals that followed the same patched-together format.

But then came the mid-century invention of “the band” – a musical unit that both composed and performed its songs. And although The Who ventured into opera with Tommy, and Hollywood tried to paste together a film version of The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, nothing clicked quite so well as when the Swedish hitmakers ABBA and book-writer Catherine Johnson created a musical with 23 ABBA songs. At the time, it probably seemed like a preposterous idea (and certainly, early critics were NOT impressed). But something obviously worked.

And what was that something? I’ve got some guesses. Number one, Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus resisted the temptation to use only their biggest hits, often deploying lesser-known songs that better fit the story. Number two, Johnson’s book is quite clever in providing a plausible path for the biggest of those hits. A trio of baby boomers reminiscing about their wild youths? What better than “Dancing Queen”? A single mom scraping by as a resort manager in the Greek Isles? Sounds like she could use “Money, Money, Money.” That same woman running into her three potential babydaddies? “Mamma Mia!”

Number three is the generalized nature of ABBA’s songs. Like classic operatic arias, they don’t further the action so much as comment upon situations and feelings. Thus, “S.O.S.” fits any number of breakup scenarios, while “Take a Chance on Me” is an all-purpose flirtation-song.

Stage’s production delivers abundant energy, intensified by its cozy space. Keith Pinto’s choreography is endlessly inventive and sexy, and the band led by Martín Rojas Dietrich delivers a genuine ABBA sound.

The vocals are solid throughout, with a few definite standouts. Playing the lead “father candidate,” Noel Anthony displays a real talent for connecting song to character, particularly with “Knowing Me, Knowing You,” a bit of fatherly advice for his potential daughter. Adrienne Herro plays mother-of-the-bride Donna with a girl-next-door appeal (much preferable to Meryl Streep’s annoying glamour-pus) and hits an emotional peak with “The Winner Takes It All.” Both songs remind us that the ultimate Euro party band could also deliver real heartbreakers.

The comic highlights come from Donna’s gal-pals. Allison F. Rich invests Tanya with equal parts AbFab and Christine Baranski, playing the cougar to the hilt. As Rosie, Jill Miller has both the appearance and comic flair of Lisa Kudrow, taking a couple of small physical bits (padding her hotel bed like a kitty-cat) to the level of hilarity.

As director, Rich has a tremendous eye for detail. Even the furniture changes have their own little ballets. During the barely controlled chaos of the Dancing Queen scene, one could look anywhere on stage and find some little mini-drama – exactly like a typical night at a disco. It was also fun to watch the supporting cast in their Greek chorus mode – for example, in bride Sophie’s (Allison J. Parker’s) truly disturbing nightmare scene. Bethany Deal’s costumes were brilliant, particularly the ABBAriffic jumpsuits of the finale.

Through July 7, San Jose Stage, 490 S. First Street. 408/283-7142, thestage.org.

Michael J. Vaughn is the author of 21 novels, including the rock band comedy Slow Children.