Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Sylvia

Tempe Little Theatre is holding auditions tomorrow night for Sylvia by A.R. Gurney. It goes like this:

"Middle age Greg finds precious Sylvia (a dog, played by a human) in the park and immediately takes a liking to her. He brings her back to the empty nest he shares with Kate.

When Kate gets home, she reacts very negatively to Sylvia and wants her gone. They eventually decide that Sylvia will stay for a few days before they decide whether she can stay longer.

Over the next few days, Greg spends more and more time with Sylvia, and less time at his job. Already dissatisfied with his job, he now has another reason to avoid work.

Tension increases between Greg and Kate, who still does not like Sylvia at all. Eventually, Greg becomes completely obsessed with Sylvia, and Kate fears their marriage is falling apart. Greg finally realizes what is happening, and decides to give Sylvia to another family.

At the last minute, Kate has a change of heart and decides that Sylvia can stay with them permanently. Greg and Kate resolve their differences, Greg finds a job he likes better, and they live happily ever after."


I can dig this. This is my kind of play: comedy. I need to make a trip to the Scottsdale Library and check out their copy, but I feel I could make a mighty fine bitch. =)

Thursday, October 1, 2009

In Stray Cat Theater’s Blackbird, David Vining Inspires Sympathy

Phoenix New Times review.

"David Vining is many things: theater director, dialect coach, university professor. In Stray Cat Theater's new production of Blackbird, Vining reminds us that he's also a fine actor. His rather estimable job in this one-act...is to create sympathy for a 60-ish man who, some years earlier, had an affair with a minor. Harrower has fashioned a long, curvy conversation that begins as an indictment and wends its way through every human emotion, winding up finally as a peculiar (and rather stunning) reminiscence between two injured people. In his presentation of a sad sack Everyman, Vining does the unthinkable: He allows us to sympathize with — but never feel sorry for — a fellow who made a single terrible mistake. It's a difficult distinction to bring to the stage, yet Vining...does so with subtle turns of phrase and body language as he swings between cowering passivity and towering rage."
- Robrt L Pela, Phoenix New Times