REVIEW - Workshop Theatre's HARVEY--A Classic American Comedy by Jane Peterson

At its heart, Harvey is a story about

acceptance, kindness, and the freedom to be yourself …

Harvey, currently running at Workshop Theatre, is a Pulitzer Prize-winning and classic comedy written by Mary Chase. It premiered in 1944 and ran on Broadway for four years. The play was adapted in 1950 into the classic film of the same name starring Jimmy Stewart.

Directed by Bakari Lebby, the story centers around Elwood P. Dowd (Marshall Spann), a gentle, mild-mannered man who claims to have a best friend—a six-foot-tall, invisible rabbit named Harvey whom he introduces to everyone he knows in town. Elwood’s eccentricity is a source of embarrassment for his sister Veta Louise (Katie Mixon), who is desperate to climb the social ladder and fears Elwood’s behavior will hold her back. When Veta’s patience reaches its limit, she attempts to have him committed to a sanitarium, only for the staff to start questioning who’s truly the "crazy" one. This leads to some entertaining, if not a bit absurd, twists and turns as Veta finds herself drawn into the strange world of Elwood’s imagination.

Marshall Spann shines as Elwood, embodying the character’s warmth and innocence with remarkable ease. His performance is the heart of the show, making Elwood’s outlandish belief in Harvey feel both natural and endearing. His interactions with the invisible rabbit are a joy to watch—there's something genuinely magical about how Spann connects with Harvey, even though we (the audience) can't see him.

Katie Mixon brings a lot of energy to her role as Veta, though at times her performance edges into the over-the-top territory. Her dedication to the role and comedic timing earned her plenty of laughs.

… there's something genuinely magical about how Spann connects with Harvey …

A standout in the ensemble is Emily Padgett, who impressively juggles two roles—Ethel Chauvenet, the quirky aunt, and Betty Chumley, the wife of the head psychologist at the sanitarium. Her facial expressions and impeccable timing elevate her performance, proving that sometimes less is more when it comes to comedy.

Some of the other performances, however, felt a bit forced, and there were moments where actors seemed to be going through the motions rather than fully embracing their characters. The characters were very lively and will keep the audience entertained.

Visually, the set was a bit of a mixed bag. While the barebones design worked in some instances, the frequent entrances and exits felt awkward and confusing. A more cohesive use of props and period-specific details could have helped ground the production more firmly in its 1940s setting. I would like to have seen everyone in period-specific costumes which I know can be a difficult task.

The play runs a little over two hours, with two intermissions, so be prepared for a longer evening. Despite its minor flaws, the production offers plenty of charm, humor, and thought-provoking moments. At its heart, Harvey is a story about acceptance, kindness, and the freedom to be yourself—lessons that feel just as relevant today as they did when the play first premiered.

Catch Harvey at Cottingham Theatre before it closes on February 2. It is a fun, quirky escape into a world where imagination and kindness rule the day. Tickets are available by phone and online. Don’t miss your chance to meet Elwood and his invisible friend Harvey!

REVIEW: A New Realization of a Classic Work -- The Glass Menagerie at Workshop Theatre

Workshop Theatre opened its 56th Season with Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie on Friday, September 15th at Cottingham Theatre at Columbia College.  As this 78-year-old play is frequently included in high school literature curricula and regularly produced at community and professional theatres around the country, it is likely that many audience members have already had an experience with this play. It continues to relevantly examine escapism, unfulfilled desire, and familial responsibility in an old American South that is in conflict with modernity and advancement. Friday’s audience seemed to enjoy the production, leaning into the intended comedy of scripted moments, while also finding levity in moments that seemed absurd to contemporary audiences. For example: one of the biggest laughs came when a character decided to put a newspaper on top of a rug in order to “catch the drippings” of a candelabra that was being used to combat a blackout. The audience seemed to scream with their laughter: “Somebody call the Fire Marshal! This guy is nuts!”

          A quick recap of the story: The Wingfields live in St. Louis, Missouri. The patriarch has long since abandoned the family, leaving them to fend for themselves. The matriarch, Amanda Wingfield, is an overbearing mother hellbent on refining her modern children and pushing them towards the life she wishes for them. Tom, her son (and the narrator of the play), is the main bread-winner of the family – working a very unsatisfying job at a shoe factory. Amanda is constantly badgering him about pretty much everything. Laura, the daughter, is an incredibly timid young woman who spends most of her time indoors with her phonograph and her animal figurines made of glass (cue title of the play). Amanda obsesses about Laura’s future, and after learning that her daughter’s anxiety has kept her from her typing classes – she insists on Tom finding a gentleman caller for his sister. He says he will, and indeed this former high-school hero, Jim O’Connor, comes to the house for dinner. Go see this production if you are not aware of what happens next. 

          In the first scene of the play, Tom Wingfield, played by Lamont Gleaton, steps onto his “safe place” – the fire escape outside of his home. Here, he tells the audience that what follows is a “memory play,” and that “nothing is real.” Thus, Williams has explicitly told the audience to expect the unexpected, while also freeing a director and production team to dream outside the constraints of slice-of-life realism and engage in the magic, idealism, romanticism and, sometimes, regret that memory can conjure. Workshop’s production, under the direction of Bakari Lebby, intentionally exercised creative freedom with their production rendering a thoughtful dive into the memory-world of the play that truly made this a 21st Century production - with mixed results.

          Workshop’s The Glass Menagerie is performed by an ensemble comprised of Columbia-based actors Lamont Gleaton (Tom Wingfield), Katie Mixon (Amanda Wingfield), Carly Siegel (Laura Wingfield), and Marshall Spann (Jim O’Connor). Contemporary productions of Williams and Arthur Miller plays are being cast more frequently with Actors of Color in the past 20 years here in America – offsetting the decades long practice of casting only white actors to portray the families that these playwrights created. The multiracial casting of Workshop’s Menagerie invites the audience to engage in a different kind of discomfort when witnessing Amanda Wingfield’s talon-tight grip on the old Southern way of life. When insisting she clean the table after a meal in Scene II, Amanda uses a racial epithet to describe her domestic services to the family – something that creates a unique tension on stage and in the audience as a white mother says this to her non-white children. The casting also begs more questioning of Amanda’s southern-fried prejudices within the context of her relationship to her now-absent husband. These questions provide good fodder for post-show conversation, but do not overshadow the author’s original intent during the performance – which focuses more on universal and poetic themes.

          As Tom Wingfield, Lamont Gleaton was taxed with a large order to play an iconic character from the American canon. Having wowed audiences this time last year with his portrayal of Lola in Workshop’s Kinky Boots, this seems to be Gleaton’s first foray into non-musical theatre. He shines in scenes with other actors – letting his cool-heeled naturalism serve the play throughout. He particularly brought control to a scene where he returns home drunk from “going to the movies” – realistically exhibiting a man on a bender who is returning home to live a lie.  Gleaton does seem to struggle with inviting the audience into the poetic monologues that connect the scenes all evening. Gleaton might gain more command as the production continues if he realizes that this story is Tom’s to tell.

          Katie Mixon in the role of Amanda Wingfield was an audience favorite – she confidently commanded the stage as her character created most of the conflict in the play. Her portrayal was theatrical, outrageously comedic – and the audience rewarded it with laughter. However, this choice makes it seem that Amanda is not only in a different world in her head – it feels as if she is in a different play. Gone is the brutality and seething criticism that the character garners on the page, leaving the stakes low for Tom’s need for exodus and freedom, and completely eradicating the possible indications that Amanda’s narcissistic abuse exacerbates her daughter’s severe insecurity and anxiety. Still, when Mixon took her final bow – she was met with audience members who were inclined to stand to show their appreciation.

          As Laura Wingfield, Carly Siegel was one of the strongest performers in the production. Siegel emphasizes the affliction of Laura’s anxiety disorder – a condition that, as we understand it today, can be a crippling disability. Though the character is traditionally portrayed with a limp or costumed to wear a leg-brace, this Laura does not. In 2023, we can totally acquiesce to the concept that this character’s timidness and fragility (a trait she sees in her glass figurines) is a product of her own anxiety which is made more severe through her mother’s scrutiny. Seigel beautifully executed the moment in the play when her “gentleman caller” accidentally causes the destruction of one of her beloved glass animals. She grows in the moment right in front of the audience – controlling her response and avoiding a sure panic attack.

          Marshall Spann was a solid choice for the prized gentleman caller, Jim O’Connor, who finally enters the play in Act II. His charming portrayal of the character makes him a magnetic interest for Laura, while also welcoming allure from Amanda (and possibly Tom?). The scene in Act II in which Spann and Siegel are left alone on stage is very rewarding, with both actors creating a welcome tension between the possibilities of the future and their ultimate hopelessness.

          Director Bakari Lebby and the design team present a very thoughtful concept of this memory play – accepting Williams’ scripted invitation to be inventive in creating the world on stage. A painted portrait of the absent father changes over the course of the play, with each following iteration becoming more and more abstract. The Wingfield home is a foundational structure that is faced with reflective material – making the set a literal glass enclosure from which the characters cannot escape. The sound design proffers a delightful mix of period-appropriate jazz that is peppered with contemporary music – drawing modern connections to the story and giving the audience permission to see how moments in the story could feel like “here and now.” Most notably, the media used in the show is instrumental in this production’s presentation of memory. Film clips that were filmed and edited specifically for this production were featured throughout the performance, giving the audience glimpses into the minds of these characters. These inventive and well-produced clips were shown on two TV’s nestled in the on-stage structure.

          Ultimately these production design elements put a unique stamp on Workshop’s production of The Glass Menagerie. One can feel that these elements were intended for a larger presentation. Perhaps more specific lighting and projection mapping on the set could have elevated these elements to a more effective level for the audience. In the end, this production seems like a laboratory or workshop for a future production. Whether it was lack of resources or technical capabilities, this production suffers from a grander vision not being realized. This production should be seen and supported, because there is quite a bit of thought and inventiveness that went into it. The stylized concepts, though they could have been pushed much farther, do present Columbia with a new realization of this classic work. Tennessee Williams continues to prove that he was a skilled auditor of the human condition, and we can still see ourselves in these characters. The Glass Menagerie runs through September 24th at Cottingham Theatre at Columbia College, and you may book tickets at workshoptheatreofsc.com.

REVIEW: Torch Song at Workshop Theatre

Torch Song began its evolution as three one-act plays, the first of which, International Stud,  opened off-off-Broadway way back in 1978. It was followed by Fugue in a Nursery the next year and finished with Widows and Children First. The three were combined into Torch Song Trilogy which made its Broadway debut in 1982. Harvey Fierstein’s groundbreaking piece took home the Tony for Best Play in 1983.  In his acceptance speech, Producer John Glines openly acknowledged his lover and the show’s co-producer, Lawrence Lane. This, kiddoes, had never been done before.  

Join me and Mr. Peabody in the Wayback Machine. (IYKYK)  It’s the late 70’s and early 80’s. AIDS has just started to ravage the gay community, aided and abetted by the nonchalance of the straight community. (Thanks, Ron & Nancy. I digress.) We’re just over a decade past Stonewall. In this environment Harvey Fierstein spins the (largely autobiographical) story of one Arnold Beckoff. He addresses issues such as gay marriage and adoption, which were unheard of 40 years ago.  Look how far we’ve come…(hold that thought) 

In Workshop Theatre’s production, Arnold is played lovingly and endearingly by Julian Deleon.  The show opens with Arnold in his dressing room at International Stud, transforming himself into Virginia Ham. (Pay attention to the list of drag names with which he peppers his opening monologue. You. Will. Love.)  Deleon’s delivery of this exercise in self-analysis is fast and furious and funny, and absolutely spot-on. It would be so easy to turn Arnold into a caricature. This piece was, after all, written by and originally starring Harvie Fierstein. DeLeon never steps over that line.  His Arnold is maddening, infuriatingly needy, manic, frustrating, and utterly and completely loveable and heartbreaking.  

Arnold meets one Ed Reiss up in da clurb. Ed is a charming fellow, a school teacher who must be circumspect in all things, as we are not yet a “woke” world. Arnold falls head over heels in love with Ed, because of course he would. Because a Torch Song by definition cannot have a happy ending.  

Ed is set up on a blind date with the lovely and hapless Laurel and falls head over heels into the easy out, which is to marry the straight girl of his parents’ dreams. Ed and Arnold remain “friends.” At Laurel’s invitation, Arnold visits the lovebirds at their farm in upstate New York and brings along his new love, Alan. Interesting conversations ensue.  

Enter Mother. Dear, strict, conventional, conservative Jewish Mother. Hurtful, passive-aggressive, put upon Mother. Debra Haines Kiser plays this role with such conviction and passion. When she makes one jab too many and Arnold can take no more…. I thought I’d accidentally wandered into George and Martha’s study. Kiser and Deleon work beautifully off each other. Their scenes snap, one line on top of another, until we are all exhausted.   

Crouch has assembled a good, solid cast. Brady Davis plays David, Arnold’s soon-to-be-adopted son. His David is such a 15-year-old gay boy – sassy, bitchy, rebellious, outspoken, and very loving. (Can we do something about poor David’s suit? He’s about to be adopted by a drag queen with mad sewing skills. Arnold would not have allowed him to leave the house in a suit two sizes too big.)   

I wish Marshall Spann’s Ed had been more… energetic? Ed is supposedly so charming that both gay men and straight women cannot resist him. I wanted to see more of that charm.  

Beth DeHart’s Laurel is enigmatic. She vows to have fallen in love with Ed and has come to terms with his bisexuality, but has she?  Arnold and Alan visit the farm on her invitation, not Ed’s. To what purpose? Is she proving herself to herself? Is she testing Ed’s dedication to being straight? Is she deliberately taunting Arnold? There is no incorrect answer.  

Taylor Diveley creates a perfectly adorable Alan with whom Arnold cannot help but fall in love.  He’s a smart, gorgeous cocker spaniel puppy. You want them to be together forever and ever and ever. (This is a Torch Song) 

Set, costumes, and music come together nicely.  (Please make a mix-tape of the show’s music and sell it in the lobby). I tried to figure out a way to sneak the kitchen table and chairs out of Arnold’s Act 3 apartment but wasn’t able to make it work.  

I shall now pick a nit. Please. Please. Please. When food and drink are mentioned in a script, have food and drink onstage.  It isn’t that difficult to whip up a pot of instant mashed potatoes to put on plates and have water/tea/coffee in a pitcher or kettle to pour into cups. After all  the tremendous care and effort put into a production, it’s annoying to see actors trying to block the fact that they are serving imaginary food.  

Fierstein has written, and Jerry Crouch has lovingly directed a show about what we all ultimately want - to be loved and respected for who we are.   

Torch Song runs through January 29.