Tag: Theatre

REVIEW: Titanic: The Musical

Maeve Ricks Leave a comment

Titanic: The Musical is a grand undertaking, promising an epic retelling of the historic disaster. And yet, this production found itself navigating turbulent waters and ultimately struggled to stay afloat. While the intent was ambitious, the execution left something to be desired, particularly in its lack of directorial boldness and inventive staging.

As the familiar story unfolded, one hoped to feel the looming dread and gravity of the sinking ship. Instead, the staging remained disappointingly static, failing to capture the urgency and chaos that the storyline demands. Titanic’s narrative should be a rising tide of tension and emotion, and yet it floundered around in shallow waters. A more dynamic approach to the physical space and movement could have transformed the experience into something truly riveting.

Another unfortunate iceberg in the path was the book itself, drowning under the weight of too many characters. The ensemble cast, while talented, had to fight for precious narrative space, leaving audiences adrift, unable to form meaningful connections or investment in their fates. With a plethora of characters vying for attention, the emotional impact of their plight was diluted, resulting in boredom and a noticeable uptick in glowing screens among the audience.

Sound mixing woes further muddled the waters. The orchestra’s impressive performance was marred by inadequate balance, often overwhelming the vocals. This left many lines and lyrics indecipherable, which is an ironic twist considering the music direction by Tyler Driskell managed to harness the beauty of the score so magnificently. Though the ensemble’s voices were heavenly, our ability to understand their words was sunk all the way down to Davy Jones’ locker.

Despite the muddled aspects, standout performances helped keep the ship from sinking entirely. Landon Wouters as Captain Smith, Nile Andah as Harold Bride, and Jason Mulay Koch as Frederick Barrett delivered compelling portrayals. Andah’s and Koch’s telegraph scene in act one, rich with tension and harmony, was a bright spot in the production and everyone’s phones were put away to witness.

While this titanic production (literally and metaphorically) struggled against its own dramaturgical and directorial currents, there were many shining moments for student performers. This production may have sank, but the performers managed to get on a lifeboat and survive. Hopefully, we will witness their talents navigating clearer waters in the future.

REVIEW: Sense & Sensibility: A New Musical

Sappy Leave a comment

From early to mid-March, under the direction of Matt Bogart, The Encore Musical Theatre put on a beautiful production of Paul Gordon’s Sense & Sensibility: A New Musical. The set design was grand and elaborate, making full use of the theater’s space. The costumes featured intricate details that reflected the period’s distinctive clothing, and the acting and soulful singing contributed to an immersive atmosphere. 

Based on the romance novel by Jane Austen, the plot takes place around 1792-1797 and follows two sisters, Elinor andMarianne Dashwood, played by Chelsea Packard and Jessica Grové. After the sudden death of their father, the women of the Dashwood family are forced to leave their home due to inheritance laws and relocate to a more modest property in the country. The sisters grew anxious about their marriage prospects, as women at the time heavily relied on marriage to secure their future. As they struggle to balance romantic desires with practical concerns, the story unfolds with messy relationships and complex emotions.

Because a musical and a novel are different genres, the musical’s pacing was faster, more direct, and exaggerated. While it lacks Austen’s iconic narrative prose, the show boasts an impressive amount of musical numbers with nineteen songs in the first act and twenty-one in the second that all showcase the characters’ personalities and emotional depth more vividly than the novel. As a result, characters with smaller roles in the book were able to have a bigger part in the musical. 

The first musical number that stood out to me was “Lydia,” sung by Colonel Brandon, largely due to the powerful voice of director and actor Matt Bogart, who is also a professor at SMTD. Bogart’s tone and vibrato enhanced the romantic desperation his character conveyed. My favorite songs from Act I, however, were the last three numbers: “Lavender Drops (Reprise),” “Hello,” and “Somewhere in Silence.” “Lavender Drops” and “Somewhere in Silence” were duets between Elinor and Marianne; their voices complimented each other beautifully, reinforcing their sisterly bond for the audience. In contrast, “Hello” is sung by Elinor and her love interest Edward Ferrars (played by Adam Woolsey), which offered insight into their relationship through its thoughtful lyrics. In Act II, I especially loved the humorous lyrics of “Wrong Side of Five and Thirty” sung by Colonel Brandon, which gave his otherwise serious character a more personable and vulnerable side.

Overall, although the tickets were a bit pricey and the commute to the theater was longer than preferred, the high production quality made it well worth it. I enjoyed being able to see a professor perform because I had only seen students perform previously. I’ve always been awed by the students at SMTD, and Bogart’s talent and skill demonstrated how great professors can foster great students. While this wasn’t my favorite musical narratively or musically, it was still a lot of fun to watch.



REVIEW: The Hunchback of Notre Dame

Maeve Ricks Leave a comment

Oh, the thrills of live theater… expectation in the air, anticipation humming, and—oh, what’s that?—a microphone left on backstage, inadvertently picking up the riveting sound of someone’s pre-show snack break. Alas, such was my experience with MUSKET’s winter production of The Hunchback of Notre Dame at the Power Center for Performing Arts. As the house lights dimmed, I was prepared for an epic adventure through the cobblestone streets of 15th-century Paris, guided by the sweeping melodies of a beloved Stephen Schwartz score. What I received instead was a journey paved with glaring sound issues and directorial missteps.

The sound design/mixing was, let’s just say, a unique interpretation of cacophony at its finest. The voices of leading roles were swallowed by the ensemble during featured moments; it was more like they were competing in a vocal tug-of-war where only one side had their microphones turned on. When the sound design is good, you notice nothing; when it’s bad, it’s like nails on a chalkboard. Mics left on at inopportune moments, and mics off when they were supposed to be on was just the beginning of the rest of this epic-length musical.

Then we have the set—a gorgeous, rented fantasy courtesy of Disney itself. Revel in its arches, its gothic allure, the golden bells, and its underwhelming presence because it was scarcely utilized! If I saw one more chorus arc singing center stage and standing still, there’d be hellfire to pay. Not to mention, that every powerful ballad lacked movement, standing on the same bored center stage mark.

The direction, I’m afraid, felt more like a directionless meandering. Lacking dynamism, each scene seemed to wash into the next with a repetitive lull that did no favors for the audience’s attention span or for characters who already struggle to stand out against their major movie counterparts. It’s hard for me to grasp onto characters whose only defining trait is their ability to make me wish the scene transition would happen already.

Despite these misadventures in sound and space, the cast carried the show on their capable shoulders with Esmeralda, played by Abby Lyons, and Quasimodo, played by Max Peluso, shining even through the most challenging acoustic trenches.

In the end, not even the beautiful set could gloss over the production’s glaring flaws, echoing Shakespeare’s timeless observation that “All that glitters is not gold.” Alas, it’s a poignant reminder that the right team can turn straw into gold, but all the gold-rented sets in the world can’t salvage a lackluster vision and poor sound mixing.

For a student theatre organization that is so popular and well-revered, it’s a shame this production can’t stand next to some of their other hits. Here’s hoping future productions can rise above, allowing both story and song to truly soar.

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

vprayag Leave a comment

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: Murder on the Orient Express

Madi Hammond Leave a comment

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.

REVIEW: Ulysses – Elevator Repair Service

artsyramblings Leave a comment

The Elevator Repair Service’s production of Ulysses feels more like a work of art than a play, passing almost like a blurred fever dream of text and desks and baby dolls. The company is known for Gatz, an eight-hour production during which the entirety of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby is read and performed. Ulysses, based around James Joyce’s notably lengthier novel of the same name, does something similar, though at a more moderate runtime (under three hours, including an intermission). In one of the few moments not pulled directly from the text, the audience is told in an opening explanation given by actor Scott Shepherd that all of the text will play on a teleprompter on the back of the auditorium. As far as I could tell from when I looked back during the performance, this is true, though it is impossible to see both the screen and the action on stage at the same time. However, not all of the text is spoken – various chunks are fast-forwarded through, a whiz playing over the speakers as the teleprompter speeds up and a digital clock in the background which tracks the time in the play spins on to the next moment. Sometimes, the text scrolls along the front of the desks the characters spend much of the play sitting behind; sometimes, the entirety of the stage, including the actors on it, are covered with the text, which occasionally overlaps itself like pages laid on top of one another. The latter is an especially visually striking effect, as the text layers over itself and subtly three-dimensional elements at the back of the stage.

Ulysses carries with it a peculiar sort of minimalism. There are only seven actors, but a great many more characters, so everybody ends up playing multiple roles. Vin Knight, playing Mr Deasy and Leopold Bloom (the latter being the main character of the novel), plays the fewest number of roles, with other actors playing between four and nine. Character shifts are indicated by small costuming shifts, particularly hats; Lenehan, for instance, played by both Maggie Hoffman and Christopher-Rashee Stevenson, is indicated by a blue cap. The play starts out in an office, and so the blazers reasonably worn by characters in such a setting provide one more element to remove or add to indicate character shifts. There’s a lack of extravagance to the changes, though – though the actors act in different ways, the fact that there has been intentionally little effort made to distinguish their characters from one another makes it impossible to forget that this is a work being put on by seven people, playing different characters. The whole thing feels self-aware of its status as a play, and of its status as a sort of staged reading of a novel. There are stage lights upstage, above-stage, and peeking out of the wings, and they’re always visible. At one point, Shepherd breaks out of the text to warn the audience in an aside that things are going to become somewhat more confusing (there was laughter in the audience at this). Remnants of earlier scenes – bits of paper, crumbs, office supplies – linger behind after they’re gone. Somehow, this all adds to the sense of surrealism which surrounds the piece until it comes to a head around the middle of the second act. During this portion, among other things, Bloom is seen giving birth (most of the babies are successfully caught; they are all summarily placed in a bucket; one is wearing a Michigan shirt), and a character sees the ghost of their mother. The play grows more and more manic, before beginning a decrescendo into more calm realism. It ends with an extended soliloquy by Bloom’s wife, Molly (Maggie Hoffman, delivering said monologue with aplomb). As with the rest of the play, it is taken directly from the original novel.