Theater review: Bold, original 'Vices' lights new fire at Caldwell

Marcus Bellamy and Holly Shunkey in Vices: A Love Story.
(Photo by Sean Lawson)

By Hap Erstein

Have you ever heard cobwebs being dusted off a theater company?

It sounds exactly like Vices: A Love Story, the world premiere musical that yanks the Caldwell Theatre into a new era and announces the arrival of Clive Cholerton as the Boca Raton stage troupe’s new artistic director.

That is not meant as a knock on the work previously seen at the Caldwell, which has long been a pioneer in South Florida theater and a frequent risk-taker. But slightly more than one month into the job, Cholerton has come up with a brash, energetic, sexy show on contemporary life and romance, easily the best new work from the company in the past 15 years.

Cholerton directs the production, but the prime force behind it seems to be choreographer A.C. Ciulla. This 1999 Tony Award nominee (Footloose) devises the quirky, acrobatic dance moves which define the very physical relationship of a couple who quickly go to bed, then get to know each other’s obsessions and vices, en route to figuring out whether they have a future together.

From the opening moments of the 80-minute, intermission-less show, a steamy, athletic pas de deux by Holly Shunkey and Marcus Bellamy -- two lithe, lean human specimens -- Vices: A Love Story proclaims its seductive originality.

It is then the conceit of the show’s committee of writers, Ilene Reid, Michael Heitzman, Everett Bradley and Susan Draus, that a quartet of alter egos shadow the couple, voicing their inner thoughts as they bare their bad habits. She smokes, spends too much on recreational shopping, cannot get enough chocolate, and has a narcissistic addiction to plastic surgery. He is a workaholic, works out to excess at the gym and is hooked on blackjack. And when they inevitably grow bored with each other, they both succumb to temptations of the flesh elsewhere.

These vices are introduced through a series of original songs sung by the talented foursome of Natalie Venetia Belcon, Carlos L. Encinias, Lara Janine and Leajato Amara Robinson. The songs have often-clever lyrics and range stylistically from faux-Mozart opera to rap to rock to pure Broadway belting. To my knowledge, Vices has the first song ever devoted to the vocabulary of text messaging, a distinction that may not suggest an advance in the art of songwriting.

The score is never less than engaging, but without Ciulla’s choreographic ideas and their awesome execution by Shunkey and Bellamy, Vices might be just another musical revue. Still, the songs are arranged with a hip contemporary sound by musical director Jon Rose and there are plenty of standout numbers, including Belcon’s rafter-raising All the Money and Robinson’s body-drumming to Some Like It.

Factor in Sean Lawson’s stage-high projections and you have a winning package that could move beyond Boca intact. But even if the show is rethought and restaged, it is unfathomable that it will not have a life beyond the Caldwell.

Whatever the fate of Vices: A Love Story, a new Caldwell has been jump-started, and an already hot summer just got some welcome added sizzle.

VICES: A LOVE STORY, Caldwell Theatre Co., 7901 N. Federal Highway, Boca Raton. Continuing through Sun., Aug. 2. Tickets: $38-$47.50. Call: (561) 241-7432 or (877) 245-7432.

Music review: Chamber fest opens with engaging voyage of discovery

Composer Bohuslav Martinu (1890-1959).

By Greg Stepanich

WEST PALM BEACH -- The Palm Beach Chamber Music Festival, which has been sweetening the sweltering summers hereabouts with music since 1992, is notable above all for two things:

Its showcasing of the individual instrumentalists whom local audiences normally hear only as part of the area's various symphonic and operatic ensembles, and second, its attitude of discovery. Year after year, the organizers of the festival have found overlooked, forgotten or just plain neglected gems from the vast repertoire of chamber music and presented them in a winning spirit of shared investigation and loving attention.

The festival opened its 18th season Friday night at the Persson Recital Hall on the campus of Palm Beach Atlantic University in a manner consistent with that approach, presenting four remarkable pieces that demonstrated how much worthy music is out there if you take the time to seek it out. The performances, too, were at a very high level for the most part, though there were some rough edges that hopefully will smooth themselves out by Sunday afternoon.

The biggest and best-known work on the bill was the closer, the Serenade for Winds (in D minor, Op. 44) of Antonin Dvorak, though this piece is also quite little-known even to those who are well-acquainted with the Czech master's more celebrated symphonies and concerti, or even his lovely Serenade for Strings. But the Wind Serenade is a masterwork, and the 12 players on stage played it with gusto -- sometimes, too much of it.

The festival musicians played the Dvorak without a conductor, no mean feat with a dozen people, and entrances and exits, even the shared ritard before the recap of the opening theme in the first movement, were crisp and clean. Each of the serenade's four movements were interpreted with good fidelity to Dvorak's style, which marries the vigor of Czech folk music to the melodic power of Schubert.

But there was a strong sense of overblowing throughout the Serenade, with too much all-out attack and not enough subtlety and shade. In the second movement, the trio (a furiant) was beautifully handled, but the minuet (a souzedska) was a bit too loud, too forced and pushed, which masked its gentleness and obscured the contrast with the furiant.

The third movement, a slow-but-pulsing exercise in harmonic tension and motifs rather than tunes, is therefore harder to bring off, and here again things were played too forcefully, with not enough attention to the softer side of the dynamic ledger. There was, though, exceptional first-horn playing from Ellen Tomasiewicz, whose work gave the movement all the Romantic richness its composer sought.

The heritage of Dvorak could be heard, or in this case foreshadowed, in another Czech piece played earlier in the concert, the Serenade (H. 334) for two clarinets and string trio, written in 1951 by Bohuslav Martinu. This is a marvelous piece, filled with jazzy rhythms and striking tone colors that range from dark and disturbed to bubbly and radiant.

The quintet gave it a fine reading, making the most of Martinu's somewhat oddball scoring, which calls for the two clarinets (Michael Forte and Scott Ellington) to play as a pair most of the time, and singles out the viola (Rene Reder) as a frequent soloist. The three played admirably well, and all five (the others were violinist Dina Kostic and cellist Susan Moyer Bergeron) were particularly good in the middle of the third movement, a tricky, swift excursion into a world of glimmer and fire.

For unusual scoring it would be hard to beat a trio of bassoons, but there they were at the beginning of the second half, in the Divertissements of the French composer Eugene Bozza, known primarily today for his wind music. Bassoonists Michael Ellert, Matthew Corey and Fernando Traba played this charming three-movement piece with big, broad strokes, luxuriating in the dark but sensuous sounds three bassoons can raise.

Bozza's piece has almost nothing of the cartoon-comic in it, opening with a long-breathed, elegant melody traded in canonic fashion among the three instruments, followed by a somber, almost severe slow movement and a clever third that sparkled rather than guffawed. The audience still giggled between movements, but chalk that up to Bugs Bunny rather than Bozza or the three players, particularly Traba, whose rich, fat sound was most impressive.

The concert opened with the six-movement Serenade for flute, violin and viola of Beethoven (in D, Op. 25). Flutist Karen Dixon (one of the festival's co-founders along with Forte and Ellert) gave this early work an excellent spin, showing off an ability to play round, even notes with no trace of breathiness from the bottom to the top of the register. Violinist Mei-Mei Luo played with as much presence as Dixon, with violist Reder taking more of a supporting role.

Dixon was especially good in the first variation of the fourth movement, which calls for plenty of dazzle, and the strength of all three as an ensemble could be gauged in the D minor section of the second-movement Minuet, which had drama and passion to spare. First-period Beethoven though it is, this is a difficult but imaginative piece that needs fine musicians such as these three to leave the correct lasting impression, that of music with plenty of charm but too much bold invention to serve only as background music.

The first concert of the Palm Beach Chamber Music Festival 2009 will be repeated tonight at 8 p.m. at the Eissey Campus Theatre at Palm Beach Community College in Palm Beach Gardens, and at 2 p.m. Sunday in the Crest Theatre at Old School Square in Delray Beach. Tickets are $21, with a four-concert subscription available for $72. For more information, call 800-330-6874 or visit www.pbcmf.org.

Film review: 'Every Little Step' movingly depicts backstage reality show

The kick-line moment from A Chorus Line,
as seen in Every Little Step.

By Hap Erstein

If ever there were a natural angle for a documentary about a Broadway show, it would be to show the auditions for A Chorus Line, the Tony Award- and Pulitzer Prize-winning musical about dancer hopefuls auditioning for a fictional Broadway show.

Even though having the idea and gaining the backstage access are much of the reason Every Little Step is such involving viewing, directors Adam Del Deo and James D. Stern still deserve plenty of credit for the execution of this singular sensation of a film.

A Chorus Line premiered off-Broadway in 1975, a year after obsessive director-choreographer Michael Bennett gathered two dozen itinerant dancers, so-called Broadway “gypsies,” and recorded their life stories, expecting these hours of audiotape could somehow be transformed into an evening’s entertainment.

Every Little Step conveys the history of the show, thanks to fascinating archival footage of Bennett conducting those sessions, the tapes themselves and some grainy film of the show’s original cast in production. Contributing to the storytelling challenge is the fact that nearly all of the creative team has died, many from AIDS, including Bennett in 1987.

The sole survivors are composer Marvin Hamlisch and co-choreographer Bob Avian. Hamlisch is prominent in the film, spinning oft-told tales, like how the song Dance 10, Looks 3 became a hit with audiences only after its title was changed to not give away the punch line in the Playbill. Avian has become a prime torch bearer for the show, directing the 2006 revival whose auditions become the core of Every Little Step.

Bennett seems to have foreseen the advent of reality TV, for that is what A Chorus Line now feels like, and certainly what the revival auditions most resemble. In the show, the sadistic director puts his would-be cast members through an elimination gantlet for a long afternoon. For the actual auditions, the performers are kept in suspended animation for eight months, brought back countless times for further comparison.

The prime matchup is for the role of Cassie, the veteran dancer and former lover of the director, an almost-star trying to work her way back into the chorus. The two finalists for the plum part are Charlotte D’Amboise and Natascia Diaz, both close enough to gaining the role that they can taste it, and it probably helps the suspense if you do not know in advance which one prevailed.

Surely the most stunning audition is by a young actor named Jason Tam, who delivers the monologue of the character Paul, who started in show business in a sleazy club as a female impersonator. Tam enters and gives a reading of such originality and impact that he elicits tears from Avian and wins the role on the spot.

Your enjoyment of Every Little Step would be aided if you have some knowledge of A Chorus Line, but just as the show is about a more universal yearning than that of chorus dancers, the documentary can be seen as a metaphor for what we all go through for a job, particularly in these recessionary times.

Beyond the story of the creation of the original show and the revival, it is a statement of what performers go through to land a role, never knowing if the show will close on opening night. To see this film is to gain a renewed appreciation for what these highly trained creatures go through, for their art and for their rent money.

EVERY LITTLE STEP. Distributor: Sony Pictures Classics; Directors: Adam Del Deo, James D. Stern; With Michael Bennett, Bob Avian, Marvin Hamlisch, Charlotte D'Amboise. Rated: PG-13. Venue: Emerging Cinemas, 709 Lake Ave., Lake Worth, today through Thursday, July 16. Call: (561) 586-6410.

Theater feature: Caldwell's chief betting on world-premiere 'Vices'

A scene from the Caldwell Theatre's Vices.

By Hap Erstein

Note to restaurant waiters: Be nice to your fellow workers. You never know when one has a new musical you will want to produce one day.

And conversely, if you have a musical you want to see staged, you never know when one of your co-workers will one day run a theater.

That is how Vices: A Love Story, opening today at the Caldwell Theatre, became the debut presentation of new artistic director, Clive Cholerton. Sure enough, the show was sent his way by singer/songwriter/former waitress Ilene Reid, who worked alongside Cholerton many years ago in a New York eatery.

“She introduced me to her music and her talent and we have stayed very good friends,” says Cholerton, the Boca Raton playhouse’s board chairman for the past four years. Recently, Reid and her team of collaborators send a rough draft of Vices to him “with the idea of reworking it and telling the story through dance, and I just fell in love with the idea of it,” he says. In addition to Reid, the script and score are written by Michael Heitzman, Everett Bradley and Susan Draus.

The story is what Cholerton calls “boy-meets-girl, boy and girl expose each other’s vices, vulnerabilities, strengths and weaknesses. Then they get to a point where they have to make a decision of whether this relationship is worth hanging onto or not.”

The show brims with original songs in styles ranging from pop to jazz to disco to rhythm and blues. What makes Vices: A Love Story different and increases the show’s risk factor is that “the dominant storytelling component is dance.”

Choreographing the show is A.C. Cuilla, Tony Award nominee for Footloose, who has gathered a cast of Broadway veterans from such shows as Rent, Mamma Mia! and Tarzan. Cholerton likens the show’s choreography to television’s So You Think You Can Dance. “It’s very physical. He asks a lot of his dancers.”

Adding to the risk is the fact that much of the show was not written by the time rehearsals began. “All of the dance music was written on the fly -- all of it,” says Cholerton, who directs the production. “The musical numbers, which are kind of the fantasy component of the show, sort of a manifestation of what is going on in our characters’ minds, those songs were all written ahead of time. But even they have had a makeover in terms of lyrics and musical stylings. I would say maybe 30 percent has been created in the last three weeks, which is a lot.”

Asked what he was looking for to begin his tenure as the Caldwell’s artistic director, Cholerton says, “Excitement. I wanted something where people went, ‘Wow, that was different. I haven’t seen that before.’ And the only way you can do that is to take a chance and that is what we have done.”

Michael Hall, left, with Clive Cholerton.

The question is will the Caldwell’s traditional audience be receptive to Cholerton’s shake-up approach. Speaking about his vision for the theater, he emphasizes the similarities to what now- retired founding artistic director Michael Hall did. “I just want to pick up where he was,” says Cholerton, then quickly adds, “I’m in my 40s and he’s not anymore. That is itself takes on a new sensibility, a new energy.”

Cholerton would not mind attracting some 40-something theatergoers, but he would bring down the median age of the audience if he could draw the next wave of migrating retirees to South Florida. “In my mind, we’re not really capturing that 55-65-year-old that’s just retired down here,” he says. “We need to do shows that will be of interest to them and that are relevant to them. I know from a relevancy standpoint, Vices fits the bill.”

Cholerton feels certain that Vices: A Love Story will have a life beyond Boca Raton. Although the Caldwell does not have a financial stake in the show’s future, all subsequent productions will be required to credit the Caldwell as the site of its world premiere. “What we want to be known as, if you want to develop a new interesting piece of theater, this is a place you can do it at,” he says. “That moves you up on the ladder.”

Gaining a future percentage of the show’s royalties, fairly typical in the industry, was not worth arguing over to Cholerton, even though the Caldwell is facing its own financial woes. “The reality is the points that you get on something at this level are pretty minimal,” he says, even though he fully expects Vices eventually to make its way to off-Broadway.

Cholerton recently confirmed that some staff members have left, top management has taken a pay cut, the operating budget has been reduced by $250,000 and the theater is behind in its mortgage payments and vendor bills.

His word for the Caldwell’s current financial health? “Challenged.”

Asked if he is confident about the company’s survival, he pauses and hedges, “Um, what’s your definition of ‘confident’?

“I know we’re going to do absolutely everything that we can. I know that we could not have a more supportive environment to get ourselves through it, from the standpoint of our lenders. I wouldn’t have jumped into this if I didn’t feel that way.”

At the moment, his focus is on the onstage product. “If we do good quality work, people will come and see it and we will sell enough tickets and well will be absolutely fine,” says Cholerton confidently. “The onus is on us. We can’t blame it on the economy or anything like that. It’s within our own powers to control our destiny and that’s what I want to do.”

The new Caldwell Theatre starts now with Vices: A Love Story. “It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before and it’s incredibly entertaining,” he says. “It’s really something to experience. If you want to get your head out of this economic malaise that we’re in, this is the best way to do it.”

VICES: A LOVE STORY, Caldwell Theatre Co., 7901 N. Federal Highway, Boca Raton. Opens today, runs through Sunday, Aug. 2. Tickets: $38-$47.50. Call: (561) 241-7432 or (877) 245-7432.