Category: Theatre

REVIEW: Hänsel und Gretel

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Photos are provided by Peter Smith Photography

From November 14th – 17th, students from SMTD’s Department of Voice & Opera presented Hänsel und Gretel, a whimsical and comical opera inspired by the Brothers Grimm fairy tale. On opening night, I walked in expecting a darker, more traditional retelling. Having recently read the original story for my English class, the haunting imagery and fast-paced plot were fresh in my mind. What I witnessed instead was a playful and modern reinterpretation that completely reimagined the tale I thought I knew. 

The opera began with Hansel and Gretel doing chores at home while horsing around. At this point, there was no dialogue; instead, the introduction was driven entirely by the music, with decorative trills and glissandos setting the tone. This lack of narration effectively established the scene, suggesting their actions were simply part of their daily routine. What stood out to me was the siblings’ dynamic, which differed from the original story. In this version, Gretel had more depth and independence. For instance, she had some attitude, and the two siblings squabbled early on. By the end, their tumultuous relationship evolved into a partnership where they worked together to overcome their struggles, making their character arcs feel more rewarding.

I was truly amazed by the quality of the music, particularly Hansel and Gretel’s vocals. Their voices projected clearly, and their vibrato and dynamics added a compelling layer to the storytelling. The pit orchestra, which was noticeably larger than those in musicals I’ve seen, played a pivotal role. Their synchronization with the actors heightened the emotional impact of the scenes, particularly in the introduction, and their technical consistency throughout the two-hour performance was impressive. 

The set designs were among my favorite aspects of the production, particularly in Act II and Act III, when the visuals became increasingly surreal. The TVs hanging around the stage were a quirky and creative touch that enhanced the eerie atmosphere of the woods and the chaotic energy of the Witch’s house. By displaying images like green mist and blinding lights, they played a crucial role in establishing the mood of each scene. The Witch’s house, made entirely of brightly branded cereal boxes, was both unexpected and amusing, providing a modern twist on the traditional gingerbread aesthetic.

 

 

The Witch was undoubtedly my favorite character. From the moment she appeared on stage, I was completely captivated by her eccentric and flamboyant costume. It was a riot of bright colors and peculiar accessories—such as eating utensils—and cleverly mirrored her chaotic personality and desire to consume the children. Her absurd and unpredictable presence made her scenes incredibly fun to watch, and I found myself smiling throughout. The audience shared my feelings, as frequent laughter echoed during her antics. 

 

 

Overall, this was an enjoyable performance. The chaotic and playful nature of the plot kept me engaged, especially when the production deviated from the original tale in surprising ways. The opera felt like a magical adventure that breathed new life into a familiar fairy tale. However, since the entire performance was sung in German, I often had to look away from the stage to read the subtitles, which detracted slightly from my experience but didn’t overshadow the production’s many strengths. I highly recommend this production to anyone who enjoys fairy tales and is open to seeing them reimagined in unexpected and creative ways.

REVIEW: 33 Variations

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December 6 | 11:00 pm | Newman Studio

 

Humans are naturally doused in curiosity. We’ve discovered the depths of Earth’s oceans while making our way to parts of outer space we probably were not intended for. The desire for complete discovery exists on both the largest and smallest of scales. A riling little mystery from the composer Ludwig von Beethoven’s expansive musical life has enchanted playwright Moisés Kaufman, writing a play of the same name: 33 Variations, in which he sends leading lady Dr. Katherine Brandt on her own expedition to uncover the reason for his insist creation of the tune.

In 1819, music publisher Anton Diabelli commissioned Beethoven to write a short variation of his waltz for a larger publication. Beethoven found it pedestrian and blew it off, but at some point, something intrigued him about the tune. This detail left out of history led him to ambitiously compose thirty-three variations on the waltz over the last few years of his life.

What changed? Why did Beethoven spend the height of his compositional years on a piece considered elementary?

Ella Saliba as Dr. Katherine Brandt.

Modern-day musicologist Dr. Katherine Brandt (Ella Saliba) travels to Bonn, Germany, to study Beethoven’s manuscripts from the 1820s. Clara (Aliyah Douglas), her restless daughter, disapproves of the journey due to her mother’s declining health from ALS and eventually joins her in Europe. The two often exchange fiery discourse, “You don’t love anything that you can’t understand,” Clara jabs. Their rocky relationship is exacerbated by Clara’s lack of career commitment and her cumbersome relationship with her mother’s nurse from the U.S., Mike Clark (Landon Wouters, whose character is hilariously inappropriate & full of laughs).

The play shifts between 19th-century Vienna and the present, while Beethoven (Nick Aiello) struggles to pay rent and faces his own ailments. His secretary, Anton Schindler (a charming James Parascandola), converses back and forth with Mr. Anton Diabelli (Marcus Byers) over four years while Beethoven writes his variations.

Through a plot with cadences that come off more bleak than cheerful, there is an abundance of humor woven into Kaufman’s hefty script. Aiello, Byers, and Parascandola are responsible for that—the three’s hilarious riffs were plentiful and cheeky. Perhaps nudging to the fact many of Beethoven’s variations do undoubtedly poke fun at Diabelli.

A young Ella Saliba earnestly waltzes through the life of the much more mature Dr. Katherine Brant. As Ms. Saliba explored Katherine’s ever-consuming and impassioned journey onstage, what the audience found was a deeply impressive, humble, and moving performance—resulting in a very misty curtain call.

James Parascandola and Marcus Byers.

One of the most exceptional parts of the play is the live pianist performing the “33 Variations” in real time. I would be remiss not to point out pianist Eric Head’s sensitive performance. This notoriously challenging work was greeted with poise from Head, providing an irreplaceable vibrance to the atmosphere.

Kaufman’s play may occasionally feel oversaturated with detail, but I was transfixed by his sentimental characters. The parallels between these two human lives across more than a century are deeply clever. Life’s ever-ticking clock is often responsible for igniting humanity’s obsessive quest for meaning in our short engagements on Earth, a theme poignantly embodied by Mr. Aiello and Ms. Saliba. I do hope Dr. Brandt found the answers she wanted, for she at least discovered the beauty nestled within the ordinary.

 

 

 

Images thanks to Basement Arts. 

REVIEW: Uncle Vanya

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December 13 | 7:30 pm | Ann Arbor Civic Theater

 

 

Chekhov’s stories task audiences to examine the challenges of the human condition. Uncle Vanya’s troubles manifest in a more ironically despairing way. The production, which ran for a second weekend at Ann Arbor Civic Theater last Friday, centers on the near-penniless Ivan Petrovich Voynitsky (better known as “Vanya”), who claims to have the most troubles—at least he thinks so. His extended family joins him at his late sister’s estate, only to share his dissatisfaction with life. How does a play doused in apathy preserve itself over a hundred years? And who is paying the mortgage?

Vanya’s (Trevor Maher) loathing is interrupted when his brother-in-law, the ex-professor Alexander Serebrakov (Bryan Shane), arrives with his beautiful new wife, Helena (the stoic Nicole Arruda). She becomes the object of affection for both Vanya and the household doctor, Michael Astroff (a spritely Joseph McDonald). The two men are infatuated with Helena, while she harbors only ambiguous feelings for Astroff. Yet she grapples with an understated resentment toward Alexander (Mr. Shane, who led a stately and demanding performance).

While Dr. Astroff and Helena shared coy exchanges, the spark of love did not burn bright for the young Sonia (Mackenzie Finley), Vanya’s niece, who had a seemingly teenage infatuation with Dr. Astroff. Though he flirted with the idea of her affection, the only make-out sesh occurred between him and Helena (unknowing to Alexander, of course). All this romantic ruckus left “Waffles” (Larry Rusinsky) and the family nurse Marina (a charming Wendy Wright) as the standing symbols of support and consistency.

Trevor Maher as Vanya.

As Ms. Wendy Katz Hiller’s director’s note acknowledged, productions of Uncle Vanya are appearing all over the country: The Broadway Revival starring Steve Carrell ran last spring, and Andrew Scott’s one-man Vanya from the West End is culminating in a Broadway run next spring. In addition to those big productions, I’m confident you could find at least one Uncle Vanya in every major city across the U.S. Vanya’s existentialism and exhaustion are wrapped in a search for purpose, creating a character who can be frustratingly familiar. The beauty of Chekhov’s text lies in its sustained relevance across decades, revealing universal feelings that make the production feel timely at many points in our history.

The usual two-and-a-half-hour runtime was whittled down to a crisp 95 minutes by Ms. Hiller—a choice greeted with narrative clarity for modern audiences. We see a succinct plot line, only at the expense of some poetic dialogue (which works for me!). Though, I found myself pining for a dramaturgical deep dive into performance. Historical context enriches a story for me, especially as this work shares many stifling thematic elements with its Chekhovian siblings, The Cherry Orchard and The Seagull (as far as depressed people living under deteriorating wealth go).

Vanya’s inner turmoil brings a bittersweet resolution where life continues unchanged despite everyone’s despair. I begged to feel hope from this story, just as I often do in our modern world, but the only condolence I received was, “We shall rest!” from the optimistic Sonia. Though these characters feel bleak, the curtain call reminded me that hope does exist in the resonance of community-driven theater—where timeless art can be found in every nook and cranny of Ann Arbor.

 

 

 

 

Photos thanks to Ann Arbor Civic Theater. 

REVIEW: As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow – The Play

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On December 6th, at 5 PM, the Ford Collaboratory in the Mardigian Library became a portal to war-torn Syria through the powerful stage adaptation of Zoulfa Katouh’s As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow. The story, which follows Salama Kassab’s heartbreaking journey through the Syrian civil war, was beautifully translated into a theatrical experience

The play centered on Salama (played by Leila Haddad in a standout performance), a former pharmacy student turned volunteer medic. Leila captureed Salama’s internal struggle with raw, unflinching authenticity. Her portrayal of guilt, hope, and despair—especially in moments of silence—felt like a masterclass in restraint. Haddad’s ability to convey emotion, especially in the quieter, more introspective moments, was mesmerizing.

Image Courtesy: Leila Ghaznavi

However, where the play truly shone was in its staging. Director Amira Shafiq, President of the Theater club, created an intimate, immersive experience that makes the audience feel as though they’re walking alongside Salama in the ruins of Homs. The use of minimalist sets striked a balance between realism and surrealism. The lighting design deserved special mention, with its stark contrasts between the warm glow of past memories and the cold, unforgiving present.

One of the play’s most intriguing choices was the personification of Khawf, Salama’s manifestation of fear. Actor Omar Darwish gave Khawf a chilling yet oddly sympathetic presence. His interactions with Salama—at times antagonistic, at times comforting—perfectly captured the inner turmoil of living through unimaginable horrors. These scenes, while impactful, occasionally slowed the pacing slightly, but they were essential in depicting her mental and emotional state.

The dialogue, much of it drawn directly from the book, was both poetic and raw, though some lines feel better suited to the page than the stage. While some of Salama’s reflections felt a bit expository when spoken aloud, they still carried the emotional weight of her journey.

“Perhaps this could have been remedied with more physical storytelling or additional silences to let the weight of the words sink in,” added Alexis Mohammed, a student at the University of Michigan Dearborn.

The supporting cast also delivered heartfelt performances. Yasmin Agha brought warmth and strength to the role of Layla, Salama’s pregnant best friend, though her limited stage time left her arc feeling somewhat underexplored. Karim Al-Rashed, as Salama’s brother Sami, offered moments of levity and hope, with his final scene leaving the audience in stunned silence.

One of the play’s most powerful moments was the climactic hospital scene. The chaos of wounded civilians flooding in, enhanced by overlapping shouts, frantic movement, and a pulsing soundscape, left both Salama and the audience breathless. It was a visceral reminder of the relentless toll of war.

That said, the play did struggle to capture some of the novel’s nuance, especially in depicting Salama’s quieter moments of healing and growth. The ending, while emotionally charged, felt slightly rushed, leaving the audience including myself, yearning for a deeper exploration of Salama’s transformation.

As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow is a story that demands to be told, and this stage adaptation did justice to its poignant message. With stellar performances, innovative staging, and a deeply personal tone, the December 6th performance was more than a play—it was a call to bear witness, to empathize, and to remember.

REVIEW: Plano

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November 16 | 7:00 pm | Newman Studio

 

 

It seems director Natalie Tell found the question of time most interesting in her multilayered senior thesis, Plano. What really is now? What is later?  Earlier? Suddenly? And where do our lives fit into a structured system of a concept that refuses to be contained? These questions were presented in her attuned director’s note in the program, but I found that more prominent themes of identity and male-induced panic rose to the surface onstage.

Plano lets us loose in a semi-mythical Texas in the home (or rather, on the porch) of three sisters, Anne (Maya McEntrye), Genevieve (Hannah Long), and Isabel (Audrey Andrews). They are haunted by strange physical things (like slugs, ribbons, ghosts) that all seem to tie back to the patriarchal influences of their unexplored past. Each sister has a different quandary with the primary man in her life: Anne quickly marries John (Joaquin Consuelos) after finding out she is pregnant, but he seems to be with her for the green card; Anne, is married to her less-than-superb husband, Steve (the hilariously erratic Rohan Maletira); and young Isabel finds herself in a relationship with God, but grapples with the presence of looming spirits.

The play establishes a fantastic “handshake” with the audience right out of the gate. The lights come up, and the sisters are having a fiery sharp conversation, darting through time when a character decides, “It’s later.” We discover John (whose real name is Juan) is gay and gallivants off to Plano (a seemingly mystical, metaphorical place) leaving Anne alone with her thoughts. Isabel is afflicted by two Faceless Ghosts who dwell uncomfortably near when she’s alone. When Genevieve and Steve ultimately divorce due to his infidelity, he splits in two (and eventually three) haunting Genevieve’s home and mind.

“A third Steve is making music in the garage. He won’t leave. And the other two Steves are really proud of him.” says Genevieve.

 

The eclectic universe Ms. Tell crafted was completely alive: props emerged seamlessly, Faceless Ghosts wandered around pre-show, and a bowl of hummus came out of the wall! The curse manifested itself in ways other than through the character’s words, it surrounded them. Ms. Tell’s creative design choices made the script’s (by the poignant Will Arbery) insistent metaphors in the script all the more playful.

 

The Faceless Ghosts pre-show.

Arbery’s book contains rich ramblings, which develop deep and relatable characters, blending humor with the uncanny. The play between reality and surrealism is intricate but such charming performances kept me fully engaged in attempting to unravel the timeline. The three sisters are distinct characters to me, each carrying a strange sense of familiarity. The clarity could stem from Arbery’s vocal inspiration from his seven sisters whom he grew up with in Dallas, Texas (a short distance from Plano, Texas).

 

Ms. McEntrye, Long, and Andrews are filled with endurance and are constantly thrilling. They relentlessly search for their identities while navigating life and facing the challenges of hegemonic authority from previously trusted men. Ms. Long’s performance was a personal favorite of mine, showcasing her quick wit and unveiled compassion. While their male counterparts can be mundanely loathsome in the world of Plano, the performances by Mr. Consuelos and Mr. Maletira were quirky and deliberate.

Though Ms. Tell’s director’s note emphasized her exploration of time in Plano, I found the most moving aspects of it were its relationship with the women fighting it. It’s difficult to truly grasp the metaphysical concept of time in this piece, as it (seemingly) is not linear, but it was effortless to feel for the strong women’s journey of discovery. To Ms. Tell’s point, time is something we’re always aware of, and these characters certainly are too.

“We’re a tiny part of a tiny thing that never ends…” Anne says.

 

 

 

Plano runs November 15-16 in the Newman Studio. Images thanks to @umichdesignandproduction on Instagram.

REVIEW: Murder on the Orient Express

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Before I saw Rude Mechanicals’ production of “Murder on the Orient Express,” I had no idea what to expect. Somehow, despite the source material by Agatha Christie being so iconic, neither the plot nor the ending had been spoiled for me.

Going in, I had no preconceived notions of what this play should look like – and, like with all murder mysteries, I think that is the best way to do it. 

The play opens with a blinding blast of light from the stage, mimicking a train’s headlights, before diving into the show. Hercule Poirot (Ty Lam), a world-renowned Belgian detective, is traveling from Istanbul to London on the Orient Express, a train line owned by his friend, Monsieur Bouc (Fabian Rihl). Once aboard the train, a kooky cast of characters including the chic and dramatic Princess Dragomiroff (Bobby Currie) and the over-the-top Helen Hubbard (Olivia Sulisz) soon find themselves trapped when the Express gets stuck in a snowdrift.

Amidst the hubbub, a dead body is found with eight stab wounds. It’s Samuel Ratchett (Jax Coates)… or is it? Poirot is immediately on the case.

The Rude Mechanicals cast performs “Murder on the Orient Express” on November 8, 2024. Photo by Ellie Vice.

While the play is, at its core, a murder mystery, it is also a comedy. In the program, director Anderson Zoll says they “leaned into the humor and heightened theatricality” to give the show “a generous dose of camp.” And overall? I think they succeeded. 

As someone who didn’t know the plot before going in, it was a bit tough to follow at first because nearly every character has a different accent. A terribly tough task, to truck through the 100 minutes in an Irish, Russian or Swedish accent. But once the cast fell into stride, the show chugged along like a well-oiled machine. The Rude Mechanicals machine, perhaps. 

Part of what heightened the “campy” aspect of this production were the cheeky asides and musical transitions between some scenes. For instance, in one of the first scenes, a character remarks that Lam’s mustache “doesn’t even look real!” In response, Lam moves the open newspaper he is obviously hiding behind to give the audience a pointed look over the mustache that is, very obviously, fake. In one of the scene clearings, the ghost of Daisy Armstrong (Christine Chupailo) performs a beautiful ballet sequence; but in the context of the flippancy of everything else, it almost made me laugh. 

While the whole cast was great, Rihl, Currie and Sulisz stood out. With a healthy dose of physical comedy and almost-constant movement, Rihl really played into the stressed businessman who will do anything to keep his customers happy. Even when not speaking, Rihl’s reactions to other characters and their actions simply made so much sense; of course he would dust off the seats before someone sits down to be interrogated! Currie plays Princess Dragomiroff in drag, a choice that felt so natural it made me search whether the role was usually played in drag. And Sulisz, from using Michel the Conductor (Jaden Gonzalez) as a handrail to climb onto the train to singing show tunes to herself in a pink robe, drew some of the biggest laughs. The loud, dramatic American traveling solo, the character Sulisz played was both familiar and novel, and altogether magnetic.

Some of the more serious moments fell flat, but they were few and far between, and the play did wonders as a comedy. A good comedy immerses the audience in a world and lets them leave their worries at the door, if only for two hours. While the plot was interesting, it was ultimately the way the cast embraced their roles and “committed to the bit” that made it so enjoyable.