Dread Hot Mamas

Dear The Phantom,

My lovely bride, Abby, and I recently joined the empty-nesters club. Our kids finally flew the coop, and our home was ours—just us—at last. Then my dad died, and my mom came to live with us. She’s a bit of an alcoholic control freak. Well, actually she’s definitely an alcoholic control freak. Then, not to be outdone, my mother-in-law moved in too. Well, we thought wackiness was sure to follow. You know what I mean: wackiness that’s coupled with farcical hilarity and a dash of dramatic soul searching in a backwards version of a coming-of-age, goofy comedy. That’s certainly what I intended.

So, Mr. The Phantom, how come no one was laughing?

Signed,

Boring in Bryan

__________________

Dear Boring,

Conceptually, you are correct. A reasonable person could rightfully expect wacky, good times to be forthcoming from a situation like that one, which had a lot of potential for high quality entertainment. Some of the lines recited by your family were funny, but—and you know that The Phantom has only your best interests (and of course, those of his phans) [and perhaps his conscience] {and common decency} /and maybe even the Universe’s essential balance of order and chaos\ at heart, but the Truth is that the show sucked. Y’all fell well short of the mark. Wide right. No points.

Regretfully,

The Phantom

————————

What, The Phantom asks, has happened to a famed theater venue? This show should have been a hit, but it suffered from some indifferent casting, some lousy acting, and some odd direction.

Let’s start with the acting. It was dicey at best. The Phantom even hesitates to call it some of it acting.

For example, take Sarah. Please. Sarah has apparently been a valued StageCenturian for a long time. The Phantom hears that she is a paragon of loyalty, dedication, truth, generosity of spirit and all things good in this world—backstage. She is evidently a tireless volunteer, a results-oriented stage manager, a faithful friend, and an effective and successful director. She is said to have many wonderful strengths, and of course, StageCenter needs her and dozens more like her. She is extraordinary, and The Phantom applauds and appreciates her. But please, please, please have mercy. The Phantom—and this is important, so he will be brutally honest and direct—has taken to shuddering when he sees her name on the cast list. He’s not kidding. Sarah, dear woman, acting is not one of your many strengths. It has become bizarrely fascinating for the audience, rapt with suspense, to wonder whether you are going to remember your next line or not. Then if the actual words do come to mind, will they be enacted in a manner that seems to pertain, however remotely, to the scene at hand? One never knows, and the ongoing mystery is always an unintended highlight of your shows. But that’s not fun for long. In fact, it’s not actually “fun” at all. It’s dreadful. Sarah, please stop. StageCenter, for heaven’s sake, please stop hanging Sarah out to dry. She deserves better.

By comparison, everyone else in the cast of Red Hot Mamas did alright. Not great, but okay. Unfortunately, their efforts were noticeably hampered by direction and blocking that was amateurish. Interactions between characters dragged along without any snap, and any rhythm the actors started to develop was crushed by the interminable set changes. At least our long stretches sitting in semi-darkness waiting for something to happen were accompanied by an enjoyable soundtrack.

(The careful reader may have noticed by now that, although The Phantom is widely renowned for his discretion and universally admired for his judgment and taste, he risks being indelicate by being quite so direct. However, with great blogging comes great responsibility, so The Phantom shall soldier on. But keep reading, dear Phan, and you may find that The Phantom has some displeasure to drop in your lap too.)

Why didn’t the director utilize the entire stage instead of closing off two-thirds of the space with large black walls? Had he opened up the space and had a bedroom set up stage right and the living room/kitchen set up at stage left, scene changes could have been achieved using lights and not with the tireless crew/smaller-role people doggedly dragging the furniture on and off over and over and over again. Crafty lighting to manage one’s scenes has been used to great success by other theaters. In this show, every time we had to sit through an Atlas-U-Rent-It-U-Move-It scene change, any momentum that had been hard fought and won in the previous scene, any emotion, be it glee or sadness, was beaten to death by the dreary, unending and painful moving and setting up. At one point our devoted backstage crew painstakingly set a complex dinner table for four. Was it worth it? No, no and no. The audience was kind not to revolt, take hostages and then burn the place down when their demands for a little pace were not met.

Overall, this production was a disappointment. And The Phantom is disquieted. He does not review children’s shows, so he did not review Treasure Island, but it was reportedly dreadful. It’s not been a good fall for StageCenter. Indeed, it’s been a mediocre year. Some shows have had excellent casts (consider, despite the anachronistic stupidity of the play itself, La Turista) and some shows have been simply superb (The Compleat Works of Wm. Shakespeare, Abridged), but too often of late StageCenter has had an air of a small club of neighborhood kids puttin’ on a show instead of being a genuine community theater. What’s going on? Is its board dropping the ball? Publicity has been nonexistent, so it’s no surprise that auditions and performances have been poorly attended, and that suggests that the place could be better run.

But The Phantom also worries that you, his Phaithful Phans, aren’t doing your part. Look, folks, NTA is great—really good—but Bryan and College Station need more homegrown theater than just the phine musical phare served up by TTC. What have you done for StageCenter lately? You’re here on this site, so you care about theater in the Valley. (You also love The Phantom himself, you know you do, but let’s not interrupt The Phantom’s instruction.) It is time, The Phantom asserts, for you to feel some personal responsibility for supporting (and perhaps restoring) this venue. Audition for its shows. Go to its shows. And make yourself heard. If you don’t know what’s going on at StageCenter, tell them. If there’s a show you want to do or see, suggest it. This is not the time for passivity, people. Support StageCenter.

Other than that, it can be great.

The Phantom