Opined December 5, 2003
Usher Nonsense # 20 – Women on Fire
WOMEN ON FIRE by Irene O'Garden, Directed by Mary B. Robinson
with Judith Ivey (Dirty Tricks)
at The Cherry Lane Theatre
The more I go to the theatre, the more I love being there. Even if the production is a
dog, I walk out feeling connected to being alive.
I studied with Michael Moriarty back aways, and he said that the magic part of theatre
was that ANYTHING can happen. It is not in a can to be rewound and re-examined.
All the elements of time whip around like small tornadoes and drop us into the theatre:
The actors, the technical crew, the audience - and the ushers. Like small encampments
focused only on our particular fire and the people who share it with us.
So when I see something that is just boring, I still have to admire the actors up there
slugging away at it. They are trying, by God, and most of them are giving it 100%.
In the case of Women on Fire, Judith Ivey is left to fan a mighty small flame. Out of
the 11 monologues, a few are memorable, but most are just plain bland.
The piece starts off with a woman bemoaning the loss of her photo studio due to a fire
(get it?) but she tells the person on the other end of the phone that she just shot a series
of women and she likes what she got. Enter the monologues.
One woman's mantra is needlepoint - where every stitch matters - and baking - where
the ingredients never let you down. Too bad people aren't like that. Another is having
side effects from her depression meds and is beginning to think about the third world
people who earn bupkus to make the products she advertises. Another extols the
virtues of shopping as a metaphor for life. Good ideas all, but, like dry snow, they have
no place to stick and therefore never amount to much.
The simple set consists of a stretch of that background photo paper drawn down stage
and one chair. This works just fine as do the lights, with the exception of the "flash"
effect that goes off to indicate a photo being taken. This happens sporadically and is
therefore confusing.
It all contrives to throw Ivey into a performance where she is at times completely
engaging and at other times she looks like she is waiting for the monologue to finish so
she can move on to the next one. One character named Zatz climbs on top of a book
case with a can of srpay paint and threatens to spray a book a minute until she gets a
publisher. Climb down, I wanted to say, and get a writing coach instead.
Usher Nonsense # 20 – Women on Fire
WOMEN ON FIRE by Irene O'Garden, Directed by Mary B. Robinson
with Judith Ivey (Dirty Tricks)
at The Cherry Lane Theatre
The more I go to the theatre, the more I love being there. Even if the production is a
dog, I walk out feeling connected to being alive.
I studied with Michael Moriarty back aways, and he said that the magic part of theatre
was that ANYTHING can happen. It is not in a can to be rewound and re-examined.
All the elements of time whip around like small tornadoes and drop us into the theatre:
The actors, the technical crew, the audience - and the ushers. Like small encampments
focused only on our particular fire and the people who share it with us.
So when I see something that is just boring, I still have to admire the actors up there
slugging away at it. They are trying, by God, and most of them are giving it 100%.
In the case of Women on Fire, Judith Ivey is left to fan a mighty small flame. Out of
the 11 monologues, a few are memorable, but most are just plain bland.
The piece starts off with a woman bemoaning the loss of her photo studio due to a fire
(get it?) but she tells the person on the other end of the phone that she just shot a series
of women and she likes what she got. Enter the monologues.
One woman's mantra is needlepoint - where every stitch matters - and baking - where
the ingredients never let you down. Too bad people aren't like that. Another is having
side effects from her depression meds and is beginning to think about the third world
people who earn bupkus to make the products she advertises. Another extols the
virtues of shopping as a metaphor for life. Good ideas all, but, like dry snow, they have
no place to stick and therefore never amount to much.
The simple set consists of a stretch of that background photo paper drawn down stage
and one chair. This works just fine as do the lights, with the exception of the "flash"
effect that goes off to indicate a photo being taken. This happens sporadically and is
therefore confusing.
It all contrives to throw Ivey into a performance where she is at times completely
engaging and at other times she looks like she is waiting for the monologue to finish so
she can move on to the next one. One character named Zatz climbs on top of a book
case with a can of srpay paint and threatens to spray a book a minute until she gets a
publisher. Climb down, I wanted to say, and get a writing coach instead.
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |