Theater Reviews: The Ballad of Emmett Till, Dual Citizens, The Subject Was Roses

THE BALLAD OF EMMETT TILL Shirley Jo Finney directs a vivacious five-person ensemble in Ifa Bayeza's choreopoem based on the life and death of the 14-year-old black child from Chicago, brutally murdered during a 1955 working vacation in Mississippi, for the "crime" of whistling at a white, female shopkeeper. His funeral, and the open casket demanded by his mother, became a flashpoint for the nascent civil rights movement. Despite the performances' visceral intensity, its lingering, emotionally exploitive depiction of the murder helps boils the history down to a black-and-white sketch of good versus evil. It provokes righteous self-satisfaction more than our introspection. Fountain Theatre, 5060 Fountain Ave., L.A.; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; through April 3. (323) 663-1525. (Steven Leigh Morris) See Theater feature.

PHOTO BY LINDSAY SCHNEBLY

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More About

• Vivian Bearing
• Cris D'Annunzio
• Anna Skubik
• Theatrical Plays
• Theater

BARBRA'S WEDDING Daniel Stern's two-character comedy takes place in the Malibu digs of Jerry and Molly Schiff (Wilson Green, Mary Beth Evans). The seemingly happily married couple's placid existence is thrown into disarray when their ordinarily quiet street is transformed into a media horror show with the pending nuptials of their neighbor Barbra Streisand. The street is choked with limos, there are scads of celebrities arriving, and the din of news copters is continual and deafening, forcing them to take refuge inside. Jerry's daily jog is interrupted; Molly wants to block out the whole riotous scene with a specially prepared meal. Before cabin fever sets in, the forced proximity engenders a verbal altercation about Jerry's need to hobnob with the stars, his failed acting career, and even the circumstances of their wedding ceremony. Clocking in at just more than an hour, the script offers some laughs but not nearly enough satire to make the show memorable — the ending drift takes on the tone of a therapy session. Brent Mason's strikingly beautiful two-tiered set piece with its immaculate kitchen is notable. John Coppola directs. Second Stage Theatre, 6500 Santa Monica Blvd., Hlywd; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; through March 7. (866) 811-4111. A Studio C. Production (Lovell Estell III)

CALLIOPE ROSE Writer-director Bill Sterritt centers his play on Rose (Dyan Kane), the reclusive keeper of a lighthouse on an island off the coast of Maine. She's obsessed with Greek mythology and living by the Greek ideal, and convinced that the modern world is going to hell. She's visited by Jason (Chris Pauley), clad in antique Greek armor, but it's not clear if he is her long-lost husband or the mythological Argonaut Jason. Or maybe he's a hallucination. Rose's daughter Tina (Ashley Archambeau) wants to turn the lighthouse into a tourist attraction. Several ships have foundered in the vicinity, and it's rumored that the beacon goes dark in heavy weather. Tina suspects Rose of turning off the light deliberately and calls in an agent from the Department of Transportation (Rob Ullett) to investigate her mother. He's soon making love to both mother and daughter. Meanwhile long-lost husband Jason emerges from the sea, tangled in flotsam and jetsam. I found much of the performance inaudible or incomprehensible, due to the lack of projection from the actors, loud sound effects, and extensive use of distracting strobe lights. What I was able to hear sounded precious and pretentious. Studio/Stage, 520 N. Western Ave., L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m., Sun., 2 p.m.; through March 7. Produced by SPQR Stage Company. (323) 463-3900, spqrstageco@aol.com. (Neal Weaver)

CELADINE With its contrived plot and wan humor, this piece of trivia by Charles Evered reminded me of the chick-lit historical romances I devoured when I was 10. Celadine (Giselle Wolf) is an exceptional 17th-century woman, an acclaimed playwright who once had King Charles' affections. Suffering writer's block, she now runs a coffeehouse with her garrulous friend Mary (Holly Hawkins), a former prostitute. High-spirited and unconventional — but with a dark secret, of course — Celadine cavorts with a young mute, Jeffrey (Will Barker); for laughs, they play horse (Jeffrey) and rider (Celadine), and he mends her pantaloons' seam while burrowed beneath her skirt. The play's real action jumpstarts around a smooth-talking thespian named Elliot (Michael A. Newcomber), who wants Celadine to write another play; soon after, there's an unexpected visit from the king (Larry Cedar), who assigns Celadine a dangerous espionage mission to help root out Protestant spies. The comedy might have worked had it been doused in tongue-in-cheek wit. Though Newcomber charms his way through the vapid script, the miscast Wolf is too earnest and declamatory. Hawkins and Cedar do their best, but there aren't enough clever, farcical elements for them to properly exercise their talents. Most annoying is how the abundant skills of Stephen Gifford, Luke Moyer and A. Jeffrey Schoenberg — scenic, lighting and costume designers, respectively — are frittered away on such prosaic material. Andrew Barnicle directs. Colony Theatre, 555 N. Third St., Burbank; Sun., 2 & 7p.m.; Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 3 & 8 p.m.; through March 7. colonytheatre.com. (818) 558-7000. (Deborah Klugman)

DIGGING UP DAD "If your last name ends in a vowel," explains Cris D'Annunzio in his autobiographical one-man show, you know somebody who knows somebody who rumor says might be working for the Mafia. Though he never knew if his estranged father, an alcoholic second-generation immigrant, and his pals down at the Italian-American Progressive Club were members of the Family, when Pops mysteriously dies of an apparent opium overdose, he's left a startling $250,000 in the bank, and D'Annunzio is the only one brave enough to take the cash as his inheritance. When two gat-toting goons show up to shake him down for $1,500 a week, he realizes he's more like dear old dad than he wants to admit. D'Annunzio has a hell of a hellish life story, but curiously, he rushes through the riveting details that would make it crackle to life. (After the thugs instruct him on how to make his weekly tithe, he skips straight to "Months later ... ") Director Mike Myers could help the tale's pacing and delivery, which feel forced and detached — D'Annunzio is walled off by brusque sarcasm, as though he's not entirely at ease with his frustrations. With her graveyard set lush with grass and dirt, Christine Silvoso has given D'Annunzio a great platform to make what I doubt is his final cross-examination of his relationship with his abusive father, and his Italian-Jewish roots. Ruskin Group Theater, 3000 Airport Drive, Santa Monica; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; through March 20. (310) 397-3244 (Amy Nicholson)