The Humans at Your Table

Stephen Karam's The Humans
San Jose Stage Company
November 23, 2019

The scariest thing about the Blake family is that they are likely not all that different than your family or mine. As they gather around the Thanksgiving table, you'll find the same role-players you might see at your own gathering. The one who wants everyone to behave themselves for once and keep it light. The one who wants to talk about everything and keep it heavy. The outsider who's anxious about what kind of family he's joining. The one who's desperately hiding the fact that her life is falling apart.

Brigid (Madeline Rouverol), Erik (Tim Kniffin) and Aimee (Lyndsy Kail).
Photo by Dave Lepori.

Stephen Karam's play is a cyclone of intentions and secrets, dropping hints and fears as its characters damage each other in the very act of trying to help each other. Under director Tony Kelly, the Stage's cast weaves a performance so naturalistic you feel like you could sit right down, grab a turkey leg and join in.

Brigid Blake (Madeline Rouverol) is hosting her family at her new digs, a Manhattan Chinatown apartment that she's sharing with her boyfriend Richard Saad (George Psarras). The set, by Giulio Perrone, is a marvelous two-story concoction that allows for simultaneous dialogues and actions. A memorable example is when daughter Aimee (Lyndsy Kail) takes her worsening colitis upstairs for yet another bathroom visit and follows with a painfully awkward phone conversation with her ex-girlfriend, who has already moved on.

I also enjoyed Tim Kniffin's performance as the father, Erik Blake. There are so many anxieties simmering beneath that shock of gray hair that poor Erik can barely function, his few moments of clarity ranging from heartfelt affection to creepy nightmare anxieties. He confides about the latter with Richard, a psychology student who finds his own creepy dreams terrifically entertaining.

Aimee (Lyndsy Kail) and Deirdre (Marie Shell).
Photo by Dave Lepori.

There's a similar complexity in Marie Shell's performance as the mother, Deirdre Blake. Her work with Bhutan refugees (rudely derided by her daughters) indicates a heart full of good intentions, but her constant prodding of her family's moral weaknesses (Brigid's "shacking up," her clan's general godlessness) provide a running irritation. (Naturally, the audience laughs at these gibes, but they don't have to live with her, am I right?) It's Deirdre who sets the trigger, asking her husband if he's going to tell them before dinner or after, and effectively activating the suspense.

Coincidentally, I recently re-watched Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, and the bickering here provides an interesting comparison. Whereas Taylor and Burton (Martha and George) operated at a near-psychotic level, the Blakes come up with regular moments of warmth (a lovely letter written by grandmother Momo - Jessica Powell - before she lost her mind to dementia) and light-hearted quirks (a family ritual of following each declaration of thanks by whacking a peppermint pig). In other words, the Blakes may be having a bad Thanksgiving, but the fraying threads are not so much worse than the ones in your family or mine. And that's scary enough.

Through December 15 at The Stage, 490 S. First Street, San Jose. 408/283-7142, www.thestage.org.

Michael J. Vaughn is the author of 22 novels. His latest, A Painting Called Sylvia, was inspired by his recent success as a visual artist, and is available in both paperback and ebook forms at amazon.com.

The Hansel and Gretel Shuffle

Kerriann Otano as the Witch. Photo by Bob Shomler.

Humperdinck's Hansel and Gretel
Opera San Jose
November 16 2019

Opening night at Opera San Jose was a bit of a crisis center, what with the company's original Hansel, Stephanie Sanchez, being down with an illness (I hate the idea of someone putting in all that work only to miss performances, so be well, Stephanie). The resultant shuffle - original Sandman Talin Nalbandian in for Hansel, while understudy Jamie Wodhull played the Sandman - had no obvious ill effects on the result, an enchanting production directed by Layna Chianakas and powered by Kerriann Otano's dynamite turn as the Witch.

The chemistry between the two siblings suffered not a whit. Nalbandian seemed absolutely comfortable, and did well with portraying a young boy's growth-spurt awkwardness. (Perhaps it helps that Gretel is the classic bossy sister, so Hansel has only to follow her lead.) Elena Galvan's Gretel is perfect. She possesses a certain impishness to begin with, so playing an imaginative young girl is a natural. And the energized lift of her soprano is one of my favorite brands of coffee. She excels especially the morning scene , and the two of them blend wonderfully in Humperdinck's Evening Prayer.

Elena Galvan as Gretel, Talin Nalbandian as Hansel. Photo by Pat Kirk

The Mother came off as unusually fierce, but it's a suitable reaction to finding your two brats throwing laundry all over the house. (This impression came before I realized the same singer was playing the Witch, a fairly common doubling with this work.) I really enjoyed Eugene Brancoveanu, who lent his boisterous baritone and presence to the Father. After a rare success selling brooms in the town he downs a few beers and comes home with a veritable feast of groceries. His aria "Ach, wir armen Leute!" conveys the particular joy of a provider who's finally getting a chance to provide.

Amy Goymerac as the Dew Fairy. Photo by Pat Kirk.

Ironically, Mother had just sent her two naughty children into the woods to pick berries, and Father tells her the legend of the witch who lives in those woods, who has a curious habit of baking kids into gingerbread cookies. Larry Hancock's set design, filled with the craggy limbs of oak trees, makes an easy segue from the house and its branchy furniture to the woods, which can be alternately spooky and gorgeous. Against this backdrop are displayed several enchanting visuals. Director Chianakas demonstrates the wonder that may be created simply by moving fourteen orb-carrying forest angels about a stage in interesting patterns. Woodhull has much fun skulking about in her hunterish Sandman cloaks, and Amy Goymerac's Dew Fairy is a one-woman dazzlement, thanks to Elizabeth Poindexter's silver-blue dress, Christina Martin's sky-high wig and a pair of confetti bazookas.

Which brings us to the Witch. Otano just takes over the place (which is, ideally, what a witch should do). Her high-energy stage presence is downright mesmerizing, reminiscent of Bette Midler in her prime. She handles her magic broom like a samurai sword, preps an oven that resembles the lantern fish from Finding Nemo and even rambles across the stage in a Wizard of Oz-ian bicycle, a gingerbread child filling in for Toto. Otano is also better-looking than a usual Humperdinck witch, but there's a nice twist to that, too. (I also loved Galvan's puppet-dance while she's under the witch's control, and I hope she doesn't hurt herself doing that.)

The fourteen angels. Photo by Pat Kirk.

To sum up, this production is a hell of a lot of fun. It's also very kid-friendly, sung in English with supertitles just in case the operatic singing drowns out the words, and with special $9 student tickets. There were a number of children opening night, and some of their exclamations were priceless.

I sat closer than usual to the pit and really savored watching Joseph Marcheso; his conducting possesses a fascinating intensity that certainly translates to his orchestra. The brass lent a particular richness to the angel-march. I also got a peek at percussionist Arthur Storch playing the cuckoo-pipes, which resemble two PVC spigots. Another lovely touch was having members of the children's chorus sing the echo parts from the audience.

Through Dec. 1 at the California Theatre, 345 S. First Street, San Jose. $29-$219, $9 students. www.operasj.org 408/437-4450. Be sure to arrive early and get holiday photos with costumed performers and gingerbread men.

Michael J. Vaughn is the author of 22 novels, including the award-winning opera novel Gabriella's Voice.