Reviews by Kerry Freek
The Big Lie
The Big Lie
By Warren MacDonald and Ryan Sero
Presented by Audeamus
Royal St. George’s Auditorium
Fri, July 9 4:30 PM – 355
Sat, July 10 3:30 PM – 362
Danny Bell’s (Ryan Sero) recent turn from hardened journalist to entertainment columnist isn’t sitting well with him, and he’s anxious for a good exposé. Enter the Magnificent Bugiardo (Jack Clift), a magician/spiritualist/con artist with a curvy assistant looking to make the big reveal, uncovering his fraud once and for all. Make the right links and you’ve got a story. Of course, there’s a twist. Unfortunately it’s not very complicated, nor is it unexpected.
Despite its relative simplicity, The Big Lie is decent attempt at the neo-noir genre — the shadowplay set and Badalamenti-esque soundtrack lend to the atmosphere — and features a fairly talented cast. The obvious star is Lea Russell, whose conniving damsel-in-distress assistant is funny and quick-witted. As the fast-talking investigator, Sero is impressive but sometimes gets ahead of himself and trips on the dialogue. At times his delivery becomes less like acting and more like reciting a tongue twister. Clift’s Bugiardo is reliable, but the other secondary character, Bell’s office mate/love interest, played by Stephanie Crothers, could use a bit of work.
Overall? Not bad, kid. Not bad at all.
Waiting for André
By John Arthur Sweet
Presented by Hard Times
The Solo Room
Sun, July 11 2:15 PM
Five people in the audience at a one-man show about coming of age. On a Tuesday at 10:15 p.m. From the start, this show’s fate wasn’t promising. Nevertheless, a brave John Arthur Sweet approached the stage and began weaving together two stories: his trying and bizarre experience as a hired actor to “advertise” a production of Waiting for Godot by — you guessed it — waiting, and his mysterious yet meaningful run-ins with an artist named André.
At first, Sweet’s delivery seemed disconnected and awkward. Like the script of a Gilmore Girls episode, his words, which probably read very well on the page, sounded overly narrative and verbose in a spoken format. However, by show’s the midpoint, Sweet’s style had grown on me. His monologue morphed into a balanced prose, and editorially, he made some great decisions. As he discusses his night alone with the beautiful André, for instance, there is no direct explanation of physicality. It’s implied, but with class and clear respect for his cherished memory. The story is heartfelt and the point is made without being vulgar or syrupy.
As the Godot and André storylines met and the show came to a close, I felt thoroughly engaged — and I hadn’t expected to be. So there.
