REVIEW: Murder on the Orient Express

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

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. 

REVIEW: Everybody

2:00pm • Sunday, April 2, 2023 • Arthur Miller Theater

Everybody was a very strange experience. The play is based on the 15th-century play Everyman, a morality tale which uses allegorical characters such as Death, Everyman, Fellowship, Kinship, and Good Deeds, to explain how one attains Christian salvation. This adaptation, written in 2017 by Branden Jacobs-Jenkins, modernizes the story into a more inclusive, interfaith exploration of morality, death, and afterlife. Jacobs-Jenkins points out similarities with Buddhist philosophy in the story’s moral framework, and builds upon those similarities by questioning reality and emphasizing points such as Everybody’s attachments to the material world and the self. He also makes the play more interactive, using a lottery at the beginning that determines which actors will play which characters, and opening the play with several of the actors hidden among the audience.

I appreciated how the affordances of the physical space of the Arthur Miller Theater, the elements of audience participation, and the blending of the cast with the audience added to the surreal tone of the play. I wasn’t entirely sure when the performance had actually started, because the “ushers” spent a long scene in the beginning explaining the theater etiquette and executing the lottery. These elements made the play feel personal and “real,” which made the more surreal scenes even more jarring. For example, immediately after bantering cheerfully with the audience and explaining the reasoning behind the play, the ushers became conduits for the voice of God, speaking simultaneously and doing simple, mildly disturbing partner gymnastics while a distorted, echoing recording played over their voices.

By chance, two different cast members sat next to me over the course of the performance. The first was there when I entered the auditorium, noisily interacting with (who I later realized were) other cast members in the audience. The second actor played the role of a random child, which meant that midway through the performance a person in a puffy Alice-in-Wonderland-looking dress entered quietly, plopped down next to me, and rummaged around in her pocket for a Fruit Roll-Up. She put one end in her mouth and unrolled the whole thing into her lap, slowly sucking the strip into her mouth. It was weird, and I was uncomfortable. I felt this brief sense of relief when I realized she was an actor, but also sort of guilty. What if those actors had just been people being people? A more critical awareness of my own “othering” tendencies was an unexpected result of the performance.

I appreciated the weirdness with which SMTD executed this production of Everybody, and I wish the audience had been a little fuller, although it was a Sunday matinee performance. The cast did a great job, and I look forward to hopefully seeing them in some other productions during the next few semesters.

PREVIEW: MOSCOW MOSCOW MOSCOW MOSCOW MOSCOW MOSCOW

That’s a lot of “MOSCOW”s in the title! Let’s abbreviate, shall we?

WHAT: A performance of the play “MOSCOW x 6” by UM’s own Department of Theatre & Drama!
WHERE: the Arthur Miller Theater inside the Walgreen Drama Center (that pretty light green building down the road when you get off the bus at Pierpont!)
WHEN: See all showtimes here! I’ll be catching tomorrow night’s 8pm show. This show is on the October 1-15 Passport to the Arts — you can redeem a passport for a FREE ticket at the League Ticket Office!

Besides being intrigued by this play’s unusual title (it sounds like it’s shouting at me!), I was curious about the blurb that states: “It’s Chekhov’s “Three Sisters” for the Fleabag generation. A deftly comedic (and undisputedly raunchy) exploration of unchecked privilege.”

Who is Chekhov? What exactly is the Fleabag generation? I wondered. If you’re wondering too, don’t worry I’ll share my research.

“Three Sisters” is a 1901 play by Russian playwright Anton Chekhov that follows the lives of, you guessed it, three sisters. They feel trapped in their rural Russian town and long to move back to the big city of Moscow where they grew up.

“Fleabagging” is a dating phenomenon named after the hit dark comedy television series “Fleabag” created by Phoebe Waller-Bridge. It’s repeatedly dating the “wrong” person, careening from bad relationship to bad relationship, gravitating toward those who you know will never be “the one.”

Into this mix comes Halley Feiffer, a playwright who decided to reimagine “Three Sisters” for a contemporary audience. Add a splash of black comedy, a sprinkle of feminism, a slab of social critique and class commentary, and you get “MOSCOW x 6” — a play that seems startlingly relevant to our world today.

I am incredibly intrigued to see how our theater students will interpret this nuanced piece, especially given that the ongoing war in Ukraine has colored public perspectives of Russia and its crown jewel: Moscow. There will definitely be no shortage of interesting discussions after the show.

Note the following content warnings for this performance. Take care of yourself!
Contains suicidal ideation/mental illness; physical violence; homophobic language; depicted sexual content; foul language; misogyny; alcohol abuse

PREVIEW: Home

Come see the interesting and ambitious idea to build a house on stage. The advertisement that this play will feature the making of a real house on stage was enough to make me get the ticket. However, there’s a deeper intention behind why this is being done: the play is supposed to be a question about what makes our home.
A home is an interesting place: it’s people’s most intimate place to rest, yet it doesn’t have to be a fixated area – remember the strange feeling you felt when you haven’t been to a place long but felt so relaxed and comfortable when you’re there. It’s also a reflection of taste-imagine the diversity of dorm rooms. Also, it can be threatened as well, because of social, political reasons, gentrification, or various reasons. Musing about the idea of home shows that it’s an interesting concept with lots of debates to be done on it- come see it done on the stage this Friday and Saturday(April 22th, 23th), at the Power center.

More information about the tickets can be found here.

REVIEW: Somebody’s Children

Somebody’s Children, a tale of children who lives just next door to the land of the fairy tale, Disney land, but whose life isn’t so fairy-tale-like, asks the audience whether it’s really ok that some people are actually living in sucn unstable homes and clearly provides the answer-it’s not Ok. The play is written by José Casas, assistant professor at the University of Michigan, and the actors were consisted of students in SMTD. The setting takes place in a run-down motel just outside Disneyland, and while their personal stories are told in beautifully and powerfully written vignettes, the sorrows in characeters’ lives expands into a problem of social structure by the contrast of their unsafe living place and children who laughs happily in Disneyland, which is so close to where they are living. The stage design made this interesting setting even more clear – there was a huge and gorgeous sign that spells out ‘Disneyland’ on the right side of the stage. Glowing white, the sign had an aura that made sure that the audience was not missing it, but the actual shape of Disneyland was not shown; as if symbolizing that the real Disneyland did not existed to children living in the motel. With this direct contrast, the deprived feeling and anger that the characters are feeling is strongly delivered while raising the point that they could have also been the careless children who have a great time in Disneyland, and highlighting the brutallity of reality in which the children were pushed into. They were somebody’s ‘Children’. Their sorrow is valid and raw, but they are children, who should be kept away from those things. Who are to protect them? the play asks.

I want to highlight the actor’s amazing performances – as mentioned before, the play mainly consited of vignettes, so the lines were symbolic and poetic, rather than straight to the point. The actors expressed out the emotion that the children is reciting the vignette so well; the sad but happy, nostelgic look of a girl who danced with her imaginary quinceañera dress, how two boys exchanged roles to between a police man that stopped them on a night’s walk to get some ice and the boys who got pinned down even though they did nothing wrong swiftly was just awestrucking. Production was amazing as well – using sitting actors as poles to put up police line was not only visually intersting but also symbolized that the children in the motel were deeply embedded in all the tragedy happening in the place.

In all, Somebody’s Children was a beautiful and socially-conscious play that used experimental lines-vignettes-to deliver the theme and did it, not over-dramatically but emotionally affluently. Highly recommend to anyone looking for performances that speaks about the modern world.