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ADOP
ME
T
LOVIE! 2-4 YEARS OLD
I’m Lovie, a beautiful little lady who’s looking for a home! I’m a 2-4 year old pit bull mix who was found as a stray. At just 23 pounds, I’m perfectly pocket-sized. I love a good game of fetch, but I’m just as happy to settle down for some snuggle time. Come meet me at 2nd and Arch! Located on the corner of 2nd and Arch.
N O V E M B E R 1 - N O V E M B E R 7 , 2 0 1 2 | C I T Y PA P E R . N E T
All PAWS animals are spayed/neutered, vaccinated, and microchipped before adoption. For more information, call 215-238-9901 ext. 30 or email adoptions@phillypaws.org
28 | P H I L A D E L P H I A C I T Y PA P E R |
[ arts & entertainment ]
✚ Strategic Decisions
entertaining cleverness, is no Brecht or Wilder — or Tom Stoppard, whom he also seeks to emulate. The helter-skelter becomes tedious midway through the second act, but larger themes come out when devout Eunice, at gunpoint, questions her faith. The scene is nicely set up by a skit featuring scientists preaching like religious zealots and religious zealots reasoning like scientists. However, the big question — “What is God’s purpose for you?” — is blown off by an ending that deflates the play like a birthday balloon. Like a roller coaster, The Exit Interview’s wild ride brings us back to where we started: a little queasy, a bit winded, but no wiser. Maybe that’s the point: It’s all too much, so enjoy the ride. Through Nov. 11, $20-$37, InterAct Theatre Company, 2030 Sansom St., 215-5688077, interacttheatre.org. —Mark Cofta
³ PHILADELPHIA THEATRE COMPANY
You know how sometimes you think, “Dom Perignon’s very nice — but, really, there’s nothing like a glass of ice-cold Manischewitz”? Well, here’s a show for those moments. “I’ve been a bad Jew,” admits Abigail Pogrebin at the top of Stars of David. She’s certainly found a cannily self-promoting way to do penance: First came Stars of David the book, Pogrebin’s series of interviews with notable American Jews reflecting on what Judaism means to them. Pogrebin is best known as a producer, so many of her subjects — Dustin Hoffman, Beverly Sills, Norman Lear, et al. — come from show business. So it’s no surprise that in its next incarnation, Stars of David is reimagined as musical theater. The 60-plus interviews are condensed into a series of songs and scenes, ably performed by an ensemble of three women and two men. Most take on multiple roles, with the exception of Nancy Balbirer, who brings some “talking like old friends” charm to her single character, the very Pogrebin-like narrator. Stars is a hybrid — not a conventional book show, but with more topical unity than a revue. It’s cunningly crafted, expertly performed and, as you might imagine, laden with happiness and tears. The happiness works best. Those who know writer Charles Busch primarily as a masterful drag performer and camp playwright will be pleased by his ear for Upper West Side patois here. Stars’ songs come from an assortment of high-end composers and lyricists — Duncan Sheik, Sheldon Harnick, William Finn, Marvin Hamlisch — but they hang together surprisingly well. Three of the comic numbers, in particular, are pure gold: “Smart People,” a portrait of Aaron Sorkin; “Just Be Who You Are,” a rafter-raising homage to Fran Drescher that Donna Viviano knocks out of the park; and “Horrible Seders,” a droll mini-biography of Tony Kushner. Alas, the tears in Stars are pretty treacley, mostly represented by a couple of tedious, bittersweet ballads. The short-and-punchy style of the show isn’t suited to deep exploration, so it’s left to the Pogrebin character to ruminate on bigger life issues. That’s not always a good thing. Frankly, as seen here, she’s not very interesting. It was clear from a few awkward moments on opening night that Stars is still in development, but for the most part this world-premiere production at PTC is all you could ask for. Among the cast, my favorites were Joanna Glushak and Brad Oscar — comic actors/singers who don’t miss a trick — but everybody’s good. Stage design — scenery by Beowul Borritt, projections by Jason Thompson and lights by Howell Binkley — is superb. Director Gordon Greenberg keeps things running like a well-oiled machine. Ultimately, Stars breaks no new ground, and demographically speaking, is a very narrow exploration of a huge issue. But it’s enjoyable and beautifully staged, and will be self-recommending to some audiences. (The opening-night crowd went crazy for it — and at the risk of profiling, I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that I wasn’t surrounded by theater-going Mennonites.) Through Nov. 18,
Kittson O’Neill as model/photographer Lee Miller in Behind the Eye. WILLIAM THOMAS CAIN
$51-$79, Suzanne Roberts Theatre, 480 S. Broad St., 215-985-0420, philadelphiatheatrecompany.org. —David Anthony Fox
³ GAS & ELECTRIC ARTS
No one who’s loved Gas & Electric Arts’ unique physical theater style in Between Trains or Anna Bella Eema would expect a straightforward historical-figure biographical play from them. We would anticipate a surrealist memory play like Behind the Eye, Carson Kreitzer’s exploration of photographer/model Lee Miller (1907-1977), an incisive choice by director Lisa Jo Epstein. Kittson O’Neill embodies this dynamic free spirit, a party girl and dissatisfied subject (“I’m so sick of pictures of my breasts,” she complains) until photography (and a fiery affair with Man Ray) opens her eyes. The play covers numerous events and drops many names, but through O’Neill’s unfettered performance, we ride the highs of her loves and fame, the lows of her World War II combat photography and alcoholism, and the too-contemporary problems of a woman living boldly in a man’s world. Kreitzer’s script keeps Miller connected to the audience, confronting us with a challenge: “So, you think you’ve got me all worked out?” The ingredients of connect-the-dots psychology emerge from her troubled childhood, but playwright, director and actress are all committed to resisting easy answers. Epstein’s production is visually fascinating, starting with Simon Harding’s near-bare stage punctuated by containers of Miller’s boxed-up work (discovered by her son long after her death). Shelley Rodriguez’s lighting is boldly colorful, and Melissa Dunphy’s original music complements the play’s dreamlike tone. A committed ensemble creates detailed characters, sometimes sharing confessions and insights directly with the audience: Allen Radway (Man Ray, second husband Roland Penrose), Charlotte Northeast (the aging writer Colette), James Stover (Miller’s son Antony) and Robb Hutter (first husband Aziz, Picasso) become a swirl of personalities orbiting an extraordinary, yet almost forgotten, woman. Through Nov. 18, $16-$25, Philadelphia Shakespeare Theater, 2111 Sansom St., 215-407-0556, gasandelectricarts.org.
“I’m so sick of pictures of my breasts.”
—Mark Cofta