Tuck Everlasting - BLT

This month I decided it was time to take the first steps in reconnecting with the theater community.  I renewed my membership in the Theatre Arts Guild, and attended TAG night for Bellevue Little Theatre's "Tuck Everlasting - The Musical."  My emotional state seems better when I spend time with friends and family, and I need those connections.

What I didn't take into account was that I was headed out to see a show that centers primarily around the theme of what it means to be mortal. 

What struck me first as I entered the auditorium, even before I laid eyes upon the beautiful set, was the size of the audience - respectable for a TAG preview - and how I recognized nobody.  I've been away from theater for far too long, ever since I started working second shift.  I expect that to change, hopefully sooner than later.  I'm very pleased to see the community thriving, in spite of the rumors of plague circulating, and I look forward to making new friends in the near future.

Speaking of the set, I'm impressed with the minimalist design.  Patrick Ulrich has chosen not to hide the orchestra, nor shunt them off to the side.  Rather, they are seated at the rear, highlighted in cameo, with only a token separation from the foreground.  A couple of elevated platforms frame them, while also granting an extra level to serve as bridges, tree branches, and attics.  Ensemble cast carry extra set pieces in, away, and even change position during scenes, incorporating the movements well. 

Speaking of the ensemble, props to choreographer Kelsey Schwenker.  They looked like they were enjoying themselves, something that I often forget to do when I have to dance.  During one particular number ("My Most Beautiful Day"), it looked as if one woman was missing a partner, but she didn't look at all awkward, which had me questioning whether it was done that way on purpose. 

My reaction to the actors is the hardest for me to analyze, because here's where I find it difficult to separate what I'm feeling inside from what I'm seeing onstage.  I kept wanting to see more from everyone, and I'm not sure that's fair.  Or maybe it is fair, and they were doing their parts so well that it pulled such strong feelings from me, because I've been all those people.

I've been Winnie Foster, feeling fenced in at every turn and just wanting to taste some freedom.  I could hear it in Eva Cohen's voice during "Good Girl Winnie Foster."  I watched Eva reacting to everyone around her, watched Winnie's character learn and grow.  Pay attention to this girl.

I've been Winnie's mother, and her grandmother, simultaneously scared and overprotective, and rebellious of authority, wanting the kids to have some fun (my late wife would tell you that I was always more of the latter).  Both these behaviors are borne of intense love.  Sara Mattix and Rose Glock gave me that sense, it fed what I was feeling, and the fire wanted more.  I wasn't disappointed.

The hardest character to identify with, and the most fun to watch, had to be The Man in the Yellow Suit, yet I've been him too.  Patrick Wolfe showed us someone who has allowed his dreams of wealth and power to overshadow his connection with humanity.  And honestly, isn't this what we do when we spend so much of our time and energy pursuing a career that we ignore our families?  When we allow ourselves to believe that striking it rich would solve all of our problems?  Okay, sure, it would solve a lot of them, but not all.

The interplay between Constable Joe and Hugo (Jeff Klemme and Jake Parker) is deliberately light, and I think the show needs that, but in my eyes it didn't properly set up the relationship to follow, to view Hugo as comic relief.  That seems like a script problem, not the fault of anyone here.

And the Tuck family.  These people, being immortal, might seem to be the hardest to understand.  But their problems are not so very much removed from ours, because we often behave as if we will live forever.  I know I have.  Angus Tuck (Chris Ebke) spends his time lazing about, ignoring his wife.  Oh, I've been you, Angus, believing that there will always be tomorrow.  It's a tragedy of mortality that we're wrong.  Can you imagine the tragedy of being right about that?   I wanted to beat some sense into Angus.  Winnie was far gentler.

Miles (Travis Manley) has suffered loss, and never recovered.  I'm you, right now, Miles.  It's hard.  Travis made me feel that pain anew, with his anger, and I wanted to comfort him.

Jesse (Elliot Kerkhofs) is forever frozen in adolescence, for all of his years.  I'm not proud to say that this describes much of my own life.  Many of us take far too long to grow up.  By the final scene, brief as it was, he did seem to have matured a bit.  Maybe it was that very curt goodbye that did it.

The only character that I have never been, is Mae Tuck.  Jennifer Gilg portrayed a woman who looks back on a long life that has contained multitudes of sadness, and still smiles, and still sees hope.  She remembers the best days, the good times.  I aspire to this, but cannot claim it.

I won't go into detail on the final dance number.  It recaps the entire moral of the story, without words, and it utterly destroyed me.  I should have stood for the curtain call.  The cast and crew deserved it.  But I was busy blowing my nose.

Tuck Everlasting - The Musical runs weekends until March 29, at the Bellevue Little Theatre, 203 W Mission Ave, Bellevue, Nebraska.  (402) 291-1554.  Performances start at 7:30 pm on Friday and Saturday evenings and 2:00 pm on Sundays.  Admission Prices are Adults: $20.00 Seniors: $18.00 Students: $10.00

Review: Pitch coal-fire Pizzeria (Dundee)

(One star)

 I don't think we would ever have tried this place without a Groupon.You can tell it's a "trendy" place when you walk in the door. But, once in a while, a trendy place has decent food, and we'd already paid an entry fee, so we decided to stay. I wish we hadn't.

We ordered a variety of things to taste and share among the four of us. Altogether, we ordered two large pizzas of different flavors, a pasta dish, a burger, and a basket of truffle fries for our appetizer. The fries were lightly covered in truffle oil and fresh basil. None of us were particularly impressed, though none of us hated them. That was, unfortunately, the best part of our meal.

When the pizzas arrived, two different flavors, both with shockingly thin crust and very little on top - so little sauce that it had dried in the baking - we noticed that the shrooms pizza looked burnt on the bottom. The Margarita pizza was normal in appearance, browned appropriately. And, while the Margarita suffered from lack of toppings and iffy flavor, at least it wasn't black on the underside. Knowing that sometimes things can look darker than they taste, two of us tried the shrooms. We both agreed that we didn't enjoy it, in part because it was lacking flavor, but mainly because it tasted of burnt crust.

It's my opinion that you shouldn't ask how someone likes their burger cooked unless you can actually approximate the customer's wishes. This was probably one of the better meals, though it wasn't cooked the way it was ordered. We had also ordered butternut squash ravioli. There were five ravioli swimming in oil and two crusts of bread to sop up the "sauce" for a price of ten dollars. We tend not to like trendy places because they overcharge for poor food, and our observation wasn't changed by this location.

Realizing that none of us wanted to eat the burned crust pizza, I reported it to our waiter, along with a request for another drink for one of our party - the waiter hadn't shown up since our food was delivered and had to be flagged down this time. I said that we needed that pizza either removed from our bill or replaced. The waiter wanted to argue with me, claiming it wasn't burned, that it was dark from the coal fire process of the ovens. I pointed out that the other pizza was of normal color for crusts, and reiterated that it -tasted-burnt. I was shortly to feel that I was involved in a Monty Python skit, paying for the privilege of arguing that my parrot was dead. Even when he finally agreed to replace the pizza, he wanted to insist that our taste buds were at fault, not the pizza crust.

We are usually good tippers. It's not infrequent that we leave 25%, often 20%, and ALWAYS 15% if we even get slightly poor service. We do not stiff a waiter unless we are angry, and we were very angry by the time we left. We went at a slow time for the restaurant to beat the Valentine's Day rush, and our experience was considerably less than romantic or enjoyable.

The second attempt at the shrooms was not burned and had considerably more toppings. Had that been our first introduction to this pizzeria, we might have walked away with our taste buds happy, if not our wallet. Also, for what it's worth, if I wanted to buy my soft drinks by the bottle, I'd bring a six-pack with me to the restaurant. No ice in the water? Come on. Some trends should die.