Sub-Total
2021 Audience Reviews
Member Reviews
The following reviews were submitted by Fringe Member: Logan Rodgers
Company: Theatre Pro Rata
Show: The Convent of Pleasure
Venue:
Hilarious and Meditative
This ninety minute comedy moves exactly how one would want a romantic-comedy to do so. Each scene is full of either humor or heart, and sometimes both. A meditation on polyamory, the marriage of privelege to pleasure, and the necessity of the communication of self in a relationship. The comedy hit the beats and the experience of a laughing along with a live audience after so long apart from it was a welcome boost of serotonin. Excellent work, all.
Company: The Winding Sheet Outfit
Show: The Darger Project aka The Darger Project
Venue:
A digital conversation to take a breath.
One part art-history documentary, one part conversation about how it has been being artists in a communal art form in an isolated year. A place to give thanks for having art and each other. Fast, loose, and candid like talking to an old friend. (Also, going into the nuances of what is and isn't comfortable about Henry Darger was appreciated.)
Company: Juggling Act Productions
Show: A Moment of Anxiety
Venue:
Story telling as self-care
A line that stood out to me was, "I don't know who telling this story will help" (paraphrasing) which reminded me of the process we go through as human beings in creating narratives to process emotion. Psychotherapy is a space for this, playwrighting is a space for this, and performance is a space for this. Watching the solo piece (beautifully performed by Erin Roberts) was an effective dive into vocalizing past trauma and the journey of emotional recall, catharsis, and moving on that comes with it. The details were specific to this one event and never strayed beyond the thesis of the piece which was to present what it is to process unvocalized emotion. Short, bitter then sweet, and to the point - it is an excellent exercise in ten-minute plays and monologue performance. The camera work by Simon Redstone helped make the virutal theatre space immersive. Kelly Lamphear-Dash's text is vulnerable and their hand could be felt as playwright and director in the performance. Erin brings a natural, conversational, presence that plays well in making the space feel candid and her performance sounded like someone naturally remembering and retelling past events - with all the pauses, utterances, and spur of the moment associations that stitch together trains of thought.
.jpg?Action=thumbnail&Width=600&Height=400&algorithm=fill)
Company: Jill R. Hildebrandt
Show: Dead Mother's Underwear
Venue:
Wow, and also... ouch.
A raw suckerpunch of what it is like to navigate mental health, financial woes, cultural myths of secondary education aiding class mobility, and relationships with family. Auto-biographical, poignant, sometimes sardonic, sometimes sarcastic; the feeling of being caught in the pendulum's ride back and forth between hope and despair. DIY art at its very best.
Company: an alleged Theatre Company
Show: Open Your Eyes, Be Bully-Wise!: An Anti-Bullying Spectacular!
Venue:
Are your eyes open?
If you don't see this show, you may be a bully.
.png?Action=thumbnail&Width=600&Height=400&algorithm=fill)
Company: Dogwatch
Show: Channel (In Person)
Venue:
Who we are when we are alone could use a hug.
It is so rare that one gets to have a first experience twice, with the world still trying to get back on its feet and theatrical-types working to regain their center of balance due to covid lockdown a return to live theatre turns the loud inner-voice aware of the artist’s machinations down and allows the art itself to breathe and feel new. I’ve felt similar experiences while returning to restaurants and movie theaters (during the pre-delta variant times we are now taking into cautious). “Channel” reignited that original, unironic, sense of magic and wonder that comes with watching live performance. With its beautiful set design and staging the show won me over before it even started. The moody atmosphere by abstract lighting, hanging sheets, the presence of a well-endowed and chaotically painted headless manakin, soundcloud beats (which all slapped) and the lone presence of LD (played by Elizabeth Efteland) gave a quiet, yet gently immersing pre-show. Without giving away too much of the content, thus spoiling the reason you would watch the show, the emotional arc of LD as she quietly manages the space while doing what we all do when alone, entertain ourselves by snapchatting, texting, or calling family members. The interior life we get to see of LD while alone and the myriad relationships built with others while using only an object, her phone, as an acting partner was no small feat. Watching the narratives each of these relationships tell about LD is incredibly rewarding on it’s own merit and would make for an engaging performance piece about who we are when we deal with external pressures while they are remote while present. Subconsciously, deeply resonate in our Covid-Coping-Culture. Where its content shines, on an already shiny platter, is the layering of the presence of ghosts. Remnants of the past that hang over LD’s (and by extension of our vicarious experience, our) head. A haunted theatre in a show about the intricacies and disappointments and frustrations of our toxic hustle and clique culture than no matter how much we claim to work for inclusion, always ends up playing a part makes it feel like the past of LD, all her disappointments, are reaching out to touch her on the shoulder. What is all the more profound, with no spoilers, are the questions that they ask. You’ll have to see the show to know, and to be asked them yourself. This being a one-person show is carried with finesse by Efteland. It is already a task to build one character in a cast. To carry an entire show as the cast is even more of one. Through quiet internal moments, lonesome emotional breakdowns, and even more impressive the nuances of mannerisms humans do to regain their composure in the face of stress was so rewarding to watch. She presents herself without pretense, nor does she ever make you fall out of believing in the show’s world. It was a privilege to be in a live and intimate space to watch her perform. Larisa Netterlund should also be commended on her work in building and synthesizing Efteland’s performance with Shannon Elliott’s incredible tech. The lighting was incredible, and as a former sound engineer assistant the mixing on the sound cues between using the phone and how it transitions between audio-source-location from object to theatre speaker choked me up in the best way as an audio-nerd (it sounds amazing). If I am allowed a parting thought, with a tiny spoiler (so stop reading now if you are going to see it), the show being about artists who are trying to live the life they want while nature takes its course on friends and family via age, the fraught parts of any relationship whether it be personal or professional, and how much of that is shown against being kept internal is something the so deeply resonated with experiences in my life that I, along with the sound design, had to work a knot out of my throat. If returning to theatre means that I get the spice of experiencing an old thing for the first time again, I am so fortunate it was with this show.
.png?Action=thumbnail&Width=600&Height=400&algorithm=fill)
Company: Dogwatch
Show: Channel (Virtual)
Venue:
Spooky and full of heart. (Live-Show-Review)
It is so rare that one gets to have a first experience twice, with the world still trying to get back on its feet and theatrical-types working to regain their center of balance due to covid lockdown a return to live theatre turns the loud inner-voice aware of the artist’s machinations down and allows the art itself to breathe and feel new. I’ve felt similar experiences while returning to restaurants and movie theaters (during the pre-delta variant times we are now taking into cautious). “Channel” reignited that original, unironic, sense of magic and wonder that comes with watching live performance. With its beautiful set design and staging the show won me over before it even started. The moody atmosphere by abstract lighting, hanging sheets, the presence of a well-endowed and chaotically painted headless manakin, soundcloud beats (which all slapped) and the lone presence of LD (played by Elizabeth Efteland) gave a quiet, yet gently immersing pre-show. Without giving away too much of the content, thus spoiling the reason you would watch the show, the emotional arc of LD as she quietly manages the space while doing what we all do when alone, entertain ourselves by snapchatting, texting, or calling family members. The interior life we get to see of LD while alone and the myriad relationships built with others while using only an object, her phone, as an acting partner was no small feat. Watching the narratives each of these relationships tell about LD is incredibly rewarding on it’s own merit and would make for an engaging performance piece about who we are when we deal with external pressures while they are remote while present. Subconsciously, deeply resonate in our Covid-Coping-Culture. Where its content shines, on an already shiny platter, is the layering of the presence of ghosts. Remnants of the past that hang over LD’s (and by extension of our vicarious experience, our) head. A haunted theatre in a show about the intricacies and disappointments and frustrations of our toxic hustle and clique culture than no matter how much we claim to work for inclusion, always ends up playing a part makes it feel like the past of LD, all her disappointments, are reaching out to touch her on the shoulder. What is all the more profound, with no spoilers, are the questions that they ask. You’ll have to see the show to know, and to be asked them yourself. This being a one-person show is carried with finesse by Efteland. It is already a task to build one character in a cast. To carry an entire show as the cast is even more of one. Through quiet internal moments, lonesome emotional breakdowns, and even more impressive the nuances of mannerisms humans do to regain their composure in the face of stress was so rewarding to watch. She presents herself without pretense, nor does she ever make you fall out of believing in the show’s world. It was a privilege to be in a live and intimate space to watch her perform. Larisa Netterlund should also be commended on her work in building and synthesizing Efteland’s performance with Shannon Elliott’s incredible tech. The lighting was incredible, and as a former sound engineer assistant the mixing on the sound cues between using the phone and how it transitions between audio-source-location from object to theatre speaker choked me up in the best way as an audio-nerd (it sounds amazing). If I am allowed a parting thought, with a tiny spoiler (so stop reading now if you are going to see it), the show being about artists who are trying to live the life they want while nature takes its course on friends and family via age, the fraught parts of any relationship whether it be personal or professional, and how much of that is shown against being kept internal is something the so deeply resonated with experiences in my life that I, along with the sound design, got choked up . If returning to theatre means that I get the spice of experiencing an old thing for the first time again I am so fortunate it was with this show.
Company: Paper Soul
Show: Rewind-A-Buddy
Venue:
For the meloncholic self reflecting romantic.
Rewind-A-Buddy's meditation on the vein nature of creating a perfect day based on a past cannot be rekindled is the kind of show that resonates in this Covid landscape, especially in a virtual context. Watching Buddy through a screen (mocking VHS screens to deepen the refences to the past) feels like an adorable, yet awkward, first date on the old mail service find-a-date tapes. The kind that 80s and 90s sitcoms would use as a plot device to bring in a long-term love interest. And, it is that kind of nostalgia romance that make spending the half hour with Buddy a charming time. Everything from the nerdy posters, shelves full of old books and video games, and even the furniture call back to a time of cheap wood paneled walls and Sega Genesis, with a VHS taped copy of Ghostbusters 2 when your friend who had HBO could get you a copy. This feels apt in our modern day obsession with pumping past nostalgia for popular media. The subversive turn to this choice is not all celebratory, in fact it calls out to us the audience not how hallow these past things are, but that the excitement of their substance cannot be regained. Yet, this dressing is only part of the equation. Motz lets this sit and breathe while the ongoing series of date-ice-breakers we are subjected to are isolated and one-sided because we can't respond to Motz in real time. We are subjected to what every episode of Mr. Rogers and Blue's Clues did to kids: you are asked questions by the TV you ultimately have zero influence over no matter how you respond. It gives the date-like atmosphere of this VHS tape-show this overpowering presence that I felt if I were in person for I would feel some obligation to cheer Buddy up, politely recommend therapy, or try to find an exit. And all of those things come from a human place where I as an audience member really do wish well upon this person. it starts as a game show, but ultimately bleeds into some little games and amusements all done to keep and cope with the hard parts about being human. In a world still teetering between being stuck inside for safety and venturing back out into open spaces, this production has an uncomfortable poignancy. It is a nice reminder that others get as nostalgic as you, and that sadness is real, but so is vulnerability. And that it is okay to be those things. It's a short, but profound, game of theatre.