|
“BETTY” STILL
RULES
By Gary Tischler
At the end of the rock-and-angst fueled musical,
"Betty Rules," which practically levitates the usually
more dignified Aaron and Cecile Goldman Theater in the DC Jewish
Community Center, people (those that are able) jump up and cheer
and clap.
On opening night, one man, thinning hair, thin mustache, gets up
slowly amid the raucous noise around him, pulls out what appears
to be a Zippo lighter, and, in the tradition of rock concerts of
yore—back in the days—lights it in tribute and appreciation.
Now, he may be a plant, or he may be just one beguiled audience
member tripping on a rock reflex, but the gesture seems entirely
right.
Betty, the three-woman rock band which has its roots in the DC rock
scenes of the 1980s, really does rock out. The girls are loud, the
guitars are louder and it deserves a hundred lit lighters. The fact
that there was only one lighter lit is cool, too, because it speaks
to the fact that while Betty is a really terrific rock group, somewhat
impossible to categorize, it is also a band that is as much local
legend as anything else. "Betty Rules," a wonderfully
entertaining and original gig nabbed for Theater J’s season,
is also a personal kind of show about three women and how their
lives got all wrapped up in the band and before they knew it, 20
years had gone by.
Betty—that would be the sisters Ziff, Amy and Elizabeth, and
their partner in crime, the amazing Alyson Palmer—formed in
1985, practicing in the Ziff basement in Fairfax, a couple of "Jewish
chicks and a tall African American woman." They got noticed
at the 9:30 Club, DC Space, Birchmere, and other local-legend clubs.
They made records and albums. They toured with big and not-so-big
groups. They moved to New York. They made more records and played
the clubs and wrote music for HBO children’s shows and much
later, the current "The L Word" on Showtime.
They were a success, and they were not. Partly because they wanted
to play and sing and perform the music they liked, they never quite
conformed to any of the boom-and-bust girl bands of the time. They
weren’t hard rockers like the Wilson Sisters of "Heart"
and they weren’t the "Go-Gos"; they were a little
and a lot punk, a little and a lot harmonic, and they could scream,
but they were also tight, high-energy, no wasted notes.
And they were a little crazy because their personas and their lives
made them that way. After all that time, as Amy points out in the
show, the record stood: "We started out broke and we’re
still broke." So did they despair? Yeah. Did they kvetch endlessly?
Damn straight. Did they love and lose and lose and love? Of course.
Did they give up? Hell no. They made a show out of a career path
that was the ultimate zigzag. The result was "Betty Rules,"
which WAS an unquestioned success in New York, Off-Broadway, and
now here. That’s probably fitting, too, because it’s
about performing, about being "Betty."
The three are not the same girls they were 20 years ago. They’re
20 years older and with an attitude, and the unflinching need to
rock, to sing. That’s what makes the show fun, the way they
kick musical butt. What makes the show funny is their personas.
There’s Amy, who looks like the smart one, the practical one,
but she’s a screaming ninny, a bundle of over-think and over-analysis.
There’s Elizabeth, the raging lesbian, who’s got a scream
in her voice and does those stage jumps like the third guitarist
for a heavy metal band or a rugby player, and incidentally, flashes
the audience right off the bat.
And there’s Alyson Palmer, tall, big-boned, and, of course,
vulnerable. That is, until she slings the strap of a pink electric
guitar over her shoulder and takes up the position. There’s
something about an attractive female rocker with a guitar that’s
both scary and enticing for guys of almost any age—at least
I hope it’s not just me. Remember those Robert Palmer backups?
And Joan Jett, who would just as soon shove "I Love Rock and
Roll" down your throat?
It should be said that Betty, as a rock band—with male backup
guitarist and drummer—is slick and tight. So is the show.
It aims to please, to make the lives of the women just fascinating.
The music—from the invigorating "Ups and Downs"
to the "I Met Someone" ballad—is bracing and engulfing.
Musically, they accomplish the original trick of sounding both hard-core
rock/punk and melodic.
Betty still rules.
Three by NYC Equals Nine
By Howard Kaplan
New York City Ballet presented three programs at
the Kennedy Center for a total of nine different ballets: four by
the great master himself, George Balanchine; three by choreographer
Jerome Robbins; one by the present head of City Ballet, Peter Martins;
and one by Christopher Wheeldon, former member of the company turned
resident choreographer. The results were mixed. Last year, when
New York City Ballet returned to the Kennedy Center after an absence
of seventeen years, their performances crackled with electricity.
Those nights in the theater were special. I’m afraid this
season just didn’t pack the same punch. There was often sloppiness
to the corps.
Balanchine was represented by "Theme and Variations,"
"Divertimento No. 15," "The Four Temperaments,"
and "Stars and Stripes." "Theme" and "Divertimento"
are the classical pieces of the bunch, danced to Tschaikovsky and
Mozart, respectively. "Temperaments" from 1946, is one
of his "black-and-white" ballets—so named for the
simple stripped-down costumes the dancers wear—and it is based
on the ancient notion that men and women are made up of four humors:
Melancholic (danced with extraordinary aplomb by long time principal
Peter Boal); Sanguinic; Phlegmatic (a strong Albert Evans); and
Choleric (Teresa Reichlen and ensemble). "Stars and Stripes,"
Balanchine’s tribute to the marching music of John Philip
Sousa, is all apple pie. It’s got military precision and the
American flag and is Patriotic with a capital P. Damian Woetzel
brought incredible verve to his role, as did Tom Gold and Ashley
Bouder to theirs.
One Robbins ballet blew me away: "Glass Pieces," his 1983
dance to the then-hot music of Philip Glass. I was surprised that
it didn’t look dated. The way some cities are now picking
a book for all to read, I think "Glass Pieces" could become
the official dance of New York City, at least the first section.
It reminded me of living in Manhattan and trying to cross the street
during rush hour. The stage is alive with dancers walking across
and you never know who is going to connect with whom. The insistent
pulse of the music was met by the assured purposefulness of the
dancers. The second section featured a pas de deux danced by Philip
Neal and Wendy Whelan. While they’re dancing, a chorus line
of women slowly saunter onstage. Are they classical, as in "La
Bayadere" or are they creatures from a different world altogether?
They were sculptural in their movements, as if a frieze had melted
and come to life. The last section, "Akhnaten," featured
the men of the company dancing with fire to the somewhat B-movie-ish
sounding music. A kind of "Rite of Spring" with all the
ritual but none of the sacrifice.
Peter Martins’ "Thou Swell" was a tribute to the
music of Richard Rodgers, but Martin’s choreography seems
to have taken a back seat to the staging, the live singers, and
the costumes. Even the wonderful Darci Kistler and Jock Soto, despite
some lovely partnering, couldn’t save the ballet. All in all,
it seemed more swollen than swell.
Finally, Christopher Wheeldon’s "Polyphonia," a
dance for four couples, to music by Gyorgy Ligeti, was an inventive,
if not brilliant ballet, made all the better by the fluid dancing
of Wendy Whelan and Jock Soto. As I watched this dance—reminiscent
of Balanchine’s "black-and-white" work, I thought
it was 75% genius. However, there was something sterile and procedural
about it, and a feeling that the choreographer didn’t know
where to take it.
Colin Quinn Returns to DC
By Nicole Crowley
When I saw Colin Quinn win his round of Texas Hold
‘em on Bravo’s Celebrity Poker Showdown, I was impressed.
When I saw him on Chris Matthew’s Hardball talking about politics
recently, I was intrigued. So when I heard he was coming to D.C.
to do his stand-up at The Improv, I went.
Since last sitting down and interviewing Quinn in the summer, his
Comedy Central show, ‘Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn’
has gone off the air. But his observations and comments on our culture
and politics are still sharp.
He told me he was glad to be back in D.C. because the crowd is different.
"It differs in that – if you talk about politics other
places they like it for about three minutes, then they go, ‘Okay,
we’ve had enough,’ whereas in D.C. you can really be
a little more sophisticated."
He supports our troops and is back in Iraq for two weeks doing "3
shows a day, moving around." He’ll end up doing 20 to
30 shows. This is his second trip to the war zone because as Colin
puts it, "Look what they’re doing for me. You know what
I mean? That’s why."
The funnyman makes you think. He’s always enjoyable and I
ask him how he does it. How does he walk the line between comedy
and commentary? "I advertise myself as a comedian, so I want
to make points with my jokes, but ultimately if your points are
not funny and don’t make people laugh – then you are
lying that you’re a comedian. If you want to be something
else that’s fine, but ultimately you gotta make a point and
make it funny." And Quinn certainly did that. He started his
show with some laugh-out-loud lines about living in D.C. He told
us he watches ‘CSI’ and ‘24,’ but that we
probably didn’t think they were fascinating because we live
it. And he commiserated with the audience on how everybody wants
something from us, how our relatives in Ohio must always say to
us, “So what’s going on with Social Security? How’s
it coming along, are you fixing it?”
The crowd at The Improv appreciated his political observations,
and I mean the whole crowd, which was all ages. I happened to be
seated next to a table of four young men who were laughing during
the entire show and then I realized that they were born around the
time that Quinn starred on MTV’s ‘Remote Control.’
Yeah, remember ‘Remote Control’? People continued to
belly laugh at comments on life that everyone can relate to like
cringing at going to family weddings, to Wall Street, to child-
rearing in today’s society, to going to Iraq, to religion.
He does that kind of humor that you can’t help but laugh at
because it’s brutally honest.
He’s concentrating on building morale with the troops right
now. He also is talking with networks about a global laugh-in kind
of show and honing his stand-up. If you’re looking for a guy
who sits back and waits for things to happen, look elsewhere.
Theatre Shorts
Saint Joan—George Bernard
Shaw’s classic, witty, intellectually engaging take on another
patron saint—of French freedom and religiosity—kicks
off the Olney Theater’s new season under the direction of
Chris Hayes. This is no agonized, shrinking violet of a Joan—she
gives almost as good as she gets in stinging debates with the reigning
clergy and powers of the day. At the Olney Theater Center for the
Arts, 2001 Olney-Sandy Spring Road. Call 301-924-3400. Through March
20.
Hello and Goodbye by Athol Fugard, directed by Jewel Orem, tells
the story of a reunion between a brother and sister in South Africa
in 1963. Johnny and Hester unravel the burdens of their past as
they meet for the first time in 15 years. Johnny has been caring
for an invalid father, Hester selling herself in Johannesburg. March
25 - April 10 at Warehouse Theater, 1021 7th St., NW. info@didactictheatre.com
/ 202-276-3694.
The Playboy of the Western World—This is
the story of the rise of a nonentity to a hero in the eyes of a
small Irish village at the turn of the century? Directed by Mark
Reiss through March 13 at 815 and l/2 King Street, Alexandria. Call
703-527-6000.
Yerma—This is his tale of a barren woman
battling rural passions, spirituality and issues of honor. Directed
by Helen Hayes Award winner Hugo Medrano at 14th and Park Road in
Columbia Heights through March 13. Call 203-234-7174.
You Never Can Tell—The new woman stands in
the spotlight in this early play. Presented by the Washington Stage
Guild and directed by John McDonald. At 1901 14th Street NW, through
April 3. Call 240-582-0050.
The All Night Strut—The 1930s and 1940s come alive with the
works of Calloway, Gershwin, Blington and Carmichael. At the MetroStage,
1201 North Royal Street, Alexandria, through March 27.
Columbinus—About the Columbine massacre––a
clear, wounding look at the reasons behind school shootings. Through
April 1 at 8641 Colesville Road, Silver Spring, MD. Call 240-644-1100.
The Milk Train Doesn’t Stop Here Anymore—An
aging diva who’s retired to the Italian coast to write her
memoirs takes up with a young hustler known as the Angel of Death.
At the Washington Shakespeare Company, at 601 South Clark Street,
Arlington, Virginia, through April 9. Call 800-494-TIXS.
The Goat or Who Is Sylvia?—Love, the mysterious
Sylvia, a goat, an ideal family, happiness and the American dream,
no doubt, all figure in this concoction. Wendy Goldberg directs
at Arena Stage, 1101 Sixth Street SW, through April 17.
|
