"Seminar," starring Jeff Goldblum

Stories Must Be Double-Spaced in 12 Pt. Font

A couple of weeks ago, I went to see the play, Seminar, at The Ahmansen with a writer friend who was in several of my college workshops.

Seminar is a comedy by Theresa Rebeck about four young adults who pay $5,000 for a professor/editor to spend ten sessions with them, working on their manuscripts in the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Jeff Goldblum stars as the professor.

Seminar is peopled with funny caricatures of the kind of students you sometimes find in workshop, mixed with real-life examples of Stuff White People Like. There is Kate, the rich, white girl who writes about women who like Jane Austen; there is Izzy, who writes good, “sexy” pieces and then proceeds to sleep with all of the men in the group (at the same time). Of the men, there’s pretentious Douglas, who talks in complicated abstractions. He’s a mediocre writer encouraged to go to Hollywood. When describing a writer’s colony’s landscaped grounds, he says it’s a place where there’s “a convergence of the interiority and the exteriority.” This becomes a running joke.The last student is Martin, who is quiet, shy, honest, and who ends up writing the best manuscript of all (he reminds me of Leonard, from The Big Bang Theory).

Not to confuse you, but their professor’s name is, actually, Leonard. He’s a sharp, foul-mouthed professor who thinks the only relevant stories are about HIV-positive amputee war veterans who beg on the streets in Somalia. That’s because he’s always going off and having near-death experiences in dangerous places–like Somalia.

Though there were funny lines, situations, and characters, I felt like it could have been even funnier with more characters.

It was well-written, but it could have been better written: near the end of the play, one workshop participant makes a choice that is inconsistent with her character When she is asked about the decision, she says, “People are complicated,” as if that is supposed to address and explain the inconsistency. This is a cop-out. Of course people are complicated, but as the playwright, it’s Rebeck’s responsibility to help us understand the complications of these specific characters. Having characters acknowledge a problem within the production only works sometimes–and this is not one of those times. This, plus the one set change, signalled a kind of odd shift in tone between the first 3/4 of the play and the last 1/4.

Seminar is a fun, sharp play that might have benefited from a minor workshop of its own.



Originally published online by Cliche Magazine.

The Fantasticks

Without a hurt the heart is hollow.

Mt. San Jacinto College performed The Fantasticks these past two weekends. Written by Tom Jones and Harvey Schmitt, it is the longest-running off-Broadway musical (though it’s now on Broadway); this shouldn’t be surprising, as it’s the story of Romeo and Juliet—minus the double suicide.

MSJC’s production was directed by Darren De Priest, who has recently done The Spitfire Grill and Blithe Spirit. In the lead were Carmina Manley (The Tempest), Danny Guererro (The Mystery Plays), and Ashley Henley (Little Women). The two men who had been cast as The Narrator/El Gallo dropped out, so Ms. Henley took on the part just two weeks before opening night.

Louisa and Matt (Manely and Guererro) are neighbors whose parents want them to marry. But because children only do things “the minute that you say no,” their fathers have built a wall and feigned a feud so Louisa and Matt will fall in love. Unfortunately, once married, they’re not as content with each other as they thought they’d be. Consequently, Matt leaves to see the world while Louisa takes up with the rogue El Gallo, and they only reunite when they learn that “without a hurt the heart is hollow.” Among the themes explored are love and pain, reality and illusion.

Though the whole cast had lovely voices, I enjoyed Ms. Henley’s performance the most. The Narrator/El Gallo (oddly enough) is the deepest, or most multi-faceted character in the musical—and Ms. Henley did justice to the part with her charismatic performance. El Gallo was always fresh and captivating. Also funny was Kevin Quam’s version of Mortimer, or The Man Who Dies, as an Indian with a cockney accent. On the other hand, Ms. Manley occasionally felt monotonous—she used the same frilly hand gesture for the length of the play, and Arthur Baum, as Henry, was both unconvincing and hard to understand.

In addition to their singing, the actors danced well, and the fathers were especially funny in their restrained-yet-silly step dancing. Besides the fathers’ numbers in which they sympathize with each other about the contrariness of children, the best choreography showed up in the campy abduction scene.

Costumes, lighting, and set design (from the “Prop Box”) were delightfully minimal and eclectic, with kind of a home-made feel. These choices added to the silliness and allowed Mortimer, at one point, to wear a purple paper pirate hat.

The Fantasticks was definitely one of MSJC’s better performances.