Lila: The Love Story of Radha and Krishna

Remaining performances:
Jul 25th 4:15 pm

They say: Attraction, flirtation, jealousy, passion. Follow the human Radha and the god Krishna as they bask in the joy and burn in the heat of their love. The emotional quality of their story is captured beautifully through Odissi Indian classical dance.

Llewellyn’s take: It was pouring rain outside the Apothecary.  People shuffled in, soaked from head to toe, sopping wet playbills in hand.  A veritable waterfall cascaded from the ceiling in the back of the house.  The stage manager quipped that they were just trying to set the ambiance by making it more monsoon-like.  She may have been joking, but the drenched, humid conditions were perfect for what was a beautiful, intricate, and all-around amazing performance.  I can’t imagine a better way to wait out a monsoon then to watch the graceful interplay of these gorgeous women; the slow, delicate contortions alternating with the staccato raga stepwork.  Shalini Goel Agarwal’s flirtatious, mesmerizing gaze itself is reason enough to see this show.   The captivating beauty in their dress and expressive personalities had me wishing for an even plusher production—what if there were more dancers, more tapestries, real waterfalls, and a live tabla-sitar orchestra?

Some may be scared off by the prospect of classical, interpretive Indian dance.  American interpretive dance can be confusing enough by itself.  Maybe you think that the cultural barrier could only serve to alienate the audience; instead, the infectious pageantry won’t fail to enchant.  I’m not sure I completely understood the meaning even when outlined by the narrator (I think the plot was something akin to Shaggy’s “It Wasn’t Me”), but it didn’t really matter.  You know that it’s a dance of jealousy and passion: Radha complains to Vishnu, Vishnu appeals to Radha, they embrace, they fight, they get back together, and it repeats.  Somewhere in there, a flute gets played.  Sure, you might miss some details in this love battle of the gods while transfixed by the polyrhythmic undulations of the dance.  There are shows swimming in meaning and importance, but this one is swimming in beauty and technical skill.

See it if: You like nice things.

Skip it if: You still can’t forgive Vishnu for how he treated Shiva.

Remaining Performances:
Jul 24th 5 pm
Jul 25th 8:30 pm
Jul 26th 5 pm

They Say: A show that runs the gamut from A to D. Attention deficits, afternoon delights, American dreams, artistic differences, anxiety disorders, they’re all here. From the author of last year’s A Report of Gunfire, a comic look at the world today.

Llewellyn’s take: Of the “A.D.” items listed in the description, the emphasis should be placed on “attention deficit” and “anxiety disorders.”  There are also American Dreams and artistic differences, though I didn’t see any afternoon delights.  Instead, A.D. is a frenetic, one-woman dash through multiple personalities that weave in and out of neurotic introspections…all of it surrounding the fast-paced huck-a-buck world we live in today.  Annie Huey keeps up the tempo throughout the show with a nervous grin no matter which character she assumes, from frantic stewardess to nervous art model.

Unfortunately, this rapid change prevents Huey from ever really inhabiting or exploring any one persona—the characters all merge into one  blurred, smiling, speed-talking, hummingbird-type personality.  When the script jumps to a stand-up routine, it’s hard to realize that this comedienne isn’t just the next in a series of characters.  The comedy in that portion can be trite when it delves into Seinfeld style observational humor (e.g. “you twitter your Facebook to your flickr”), but it picks up when she starts chatting with invisible characters.  In the midst of neurotic breakdowns, she lashes out at the voices of those who are ogling and asking questions but who won’t give her a moment to think.  It’s the feminine hyper-culture version of “Stop the World – I Want to get Off”.  Sans mimes.

See it if: You think anxiety isn’t a condition; it’s more of a lifestyle choice.

Skip it if: You lost interest at “frenetic one-woman monologue”

The Girl Who Waters the Basil

Remaining Shows:
July 19th 4:45 pm
July 24th 6 pm

What they say: The tale of a poor shoemaker’s daughter and a lovesick inquisitive prince. Based on Lorca’s play of the same name, this slightly surreal ‘pocket-opera’ features performances by Robert Baker and Rebecca Ocampo.

Llewellyn’s take: One of the great perks of a show with so many credentials is that the playbill is large enough to use as a multi-page fan.  And heady credentials they are.  These are some classically trained maestros slumming it for us heathens who probably wouldn’t make it out to the Kennedy Center on five-cent beer night.  I mean, they have a musical ombudsman listed in the credits for crying out loud.

Even though they list it as a “pocket opera,” it’s still opera in the end, so expect bel cantos, colla voce, and a supernumerary.  Because the story is so short, you don’t get overwhelmed with boredom after three hours of butt-numbing vibrato; these folks keep it to a nimble 40 minutes of well-crafted musicianship.  You’re in, you’re acculturated, and then you’re out.

The story confines itself to a basic he-said/she-said romantic battle, and the tone remains playful throughout the show—even when they’re crying on the floor.  The comedy is goofy and maybe strained at points, but it provides a good counterpoint to the music. Rebecca Ocampo and James Shaffran have amazing voices, and the mini-orchestra keeps up with them.  Here’s hoping they do a 40-minute Ring Cycle next.

See it if: You’re an opera fan on a tight schedule or a cultural heathen feeling guilty.

Skip it if: You don’t have the attention span for opera in cartoons

Billy the Kid: First Exhumation

Remaining Performances:
July 17th, 7 pm
July 25th, 5 pm

They say: Directed by a former member of Herbert Blau’s performance group Kraiken, Redd Shifft tackles similar performance issues, including spontaneous improvisation, psycho-association, physical and vocal reflexivity, all in a highly charged, non-linear context of the body longing to know.

Llewellyn’s take: Be grateful for the Fringe Festival: these experimental theater opportunities that are few and far between in DC.  Dramatic improvisation may not be everybody’s cup of tea for sure, but I like it as a palate-cleanser from a world filled with Legally Blonde the Musicals.

So here we have Billy the Kid: A First Exhumation, a storytelling experiment that delves into the fight-or-flight mentality.  Intertwined with the stream of consciousness re-enactment of Billy’s life are modern tales of revenge and revenge fantasies. Threats punctuate dream sequences while a tense Western gunfight-strum plays in the background.  The characters are there only to mock and threaten each other—just the way Artaud might have wanted them to.

The acting is best in the monologues, wherein the characters have full range to run free with their emotions, but in between these, the straightforward retelling of Billy’s life is fraught with the caricatures of the old West.  The staid stereotypes of rowdy drunkards and saloon shootouts are so ingrained from TV and radio shows that it’s hard to get past them and find something that doesn’t sound like, “Yew shot mah paw”.  The story touches on a personal side of Billy himself—that he might not be the gun-swinging archetype people generally assume him to be, but just another person who let his emotions get ahead of himself.  The monologues play off of this narrative in ways that aren’t completely apparent, but they make for a good story.

See it if: You like dramatic improv and a good fight story.

Skip it if: Western accents make you think of Bonanza reruns.

Remaining Performances
Wednesday, July 15th 5:30 pm
Saturday, July 18th 6 pm
Thursday, July 23rd 8 pm
Sunday, July 26th 11:45 am

They say: GS-14 is a comedy about a fed-up government manager who decides to ignore all rules so as to get the job done. He tries to fire the lazy. He tells people unwelcome truths. He’s soon in fights with almost everyone!

Llewellyn says: Isn’t government one big, convoluted bureaucracy?  I mean really, who knows how anybody gets anything done in a world of inane requirements, embattled egos, and endless paperwork.  Maybe if someone were only able to circumvent all the needless requirements, then something could actually get done around here!  That’s the story of GS-14, where a frustrated, conniving manager, aptly played by Seth Vaughn, looks to circumvent the PC police to complete this fictional software that would “save untold lives”. It’s an office drama, told with lots of wit, that digs into the details of political maneuvering and innuendo that surround this town’s untold soap operas.  Complex and creative maybe, but in the end, it’s unsatisfactory.  Constantly pacing around an office desk, most of the actors never seem to settle into their roles unless they’re imitating other characters within the story.  They are all just ordinary office workers going about their day.  And without characters to care about, the obscure military references fall flat.

This couldn’t be more apparent as when the new hire Theo, a transvestite chess player played by Ricardo Frederick Evans, comes aboard and steals the show.  His timing and personality easily trumps whatever statement was being made about political correctness.  When Theo is forced to wear proper clothes at work, and Megan, played by Ariana Almajan, is repeatedly told her fiancée is a terrible person for reasons unknown to the audience, I wished the cast had mutinied right then and there against the rampant sexism in the script.  There’s little redemption that all of these horrible things were in any way justified so we could see some fantasy software being made.  Theo’s identity politics are there to be belittled.  I had a hard time believing that any software was worth putting people down like that, and in the end I yearned for more bureaucracy.

See it if: You like software more than people.

Skip it if: You like people more than software.

They Say: Follow one woman’s quest in acquiring the art of the sword. Filled with drama and adventure, the play also delves into power politics behind religious persecution, the nature of revenge, and the role of women in society.

Llewellyn’s take: Of all of the shows in this year’s Fringe involving female swordplay (three so far), The Fifth Musketeer just happens to be the one without nudity.  Must be tough on publicity!  Think about it: given the option, would you go see a.) female swordplay or a.) naked female swordplay?  Of course, that might be the same as asking if you would rather see bowling or naked bowling.  Sometimes nudity doesn’t have the additive property.

Instead, this show takes the high road, and everybody keeps their clothes on for a straightforward sequel to the adventures of d’Artagnan and his swashbuckling friends.  In this rendition, there’s a feminist bent: Tara Garwood plays the daughter of D’Artagnan, a perky swordsmith dueling for the honor of her father and against the sexual mores of 17th-century France.  Kelley Slagle plays a great swordmaster with the eerie poise of a lone gunfighter, and Matthew Wilson puts his all into crushing the Huguenot rebellion.  But the show languishes at points—not for fault of the cast, but when one goes into a show with Musketeers in the title, one expects something like a violent ballet with weapons.  The action is there—and tastefully done—but it’s a minor note in a story about religious tolerance and sexual identity.  A small, delightful tale on the whole, but I was left yearning for more saber battles.

Maybe that’s just me.

See it if: You like your swordplay with pants on.

Skip it if: Musketeer boots just get in the way of your psychosexual stage violence.