Category Archives: 5/10

Big White Fog – June 2007

5/10

By: Theodore Ward

Directed by: Michael Attenborough

Venu: Almeida Theatre

Date: Saturday 16th June 2007

This is a play, written in the 1930s, dealing with the various ways that black folk in US northern cities (Chicago, in this case) handled the discrimination they experienced every day. The family is a mixture. The wife, Ella, is the daughter of a woman (Martha) who’s part-white, born out of wedlock, and inordinately proud of being a Dupree. Ella has married Victor, a fully black man who’s heavily involved in the movement set up by Marcus Garvey, encouraging black people in America to return to Africa to set up a modern state there. Ella’s sister, Juanita, has married Daniel, who’s a wheeler-dealer type, trying to work the system to his advantage, and doing OK at this time, though the Depression gets even him in the end. Daughter Wanda chooses to drop out of school to work in a shop, as she doesn’t see education helping her much, while Les, the son, has received an ambiguous letter suggesting he’ll be accepted for a scholarship to study chemistry at college.

We see how things develop over several years, eventually ending up in the middle of the Depression. Les is turned down for a place at college because he’s black, and the scholarship committee is specifically forbidden from granting scholarships to black people. He turns to communism as an alternative, supported by a Jewish friend. Marcus Garvey does a runner with the money raised to found the Black Star Line, and is eventually put in jail, but Victor stays resolute to the end, becoming even more important in the organisation, and even less able to provide for his family as he’s put all their savings into Black Star Line shares. Wanda, influenced by her friend Claudine, ends up with a white sugar daddy, only she’s the one who has to be sweet to get any money out of him. And there’s also Uncle Percy, Victor’s brother, who spends all his time having fun, drinking and spending his money on clothes (and, presumably, women). He ends up a serious drunk. Meantime, Ella has done her best to keep her family together and cared for, but eventually even she has to speak up and complain.

One of the most interesting aspects of this production is that it’s the complete opposite of the colour-blind casting we’re so used to. It’s totally colour-sensitive. I noticed this first when Claudine comes in, as she’s light-skinned enough for me to be unsure that she’s playing a “black” character. Later, the racism amongst African-Americans comes to the fore, as Martha lets rip at Victor because he’s a black man! I know that no group is free of its own prejudices, but it’s rare to see this shown on stage. We get a touch of Queen Lear at this point, as Martha flounces off to her other daughter, only to return years later, saying she can’t stay with Juanita another night.

The other point of interest is how much the Depression affects everyone, black and white. Given that the Communists are racially integrated, it’s a sign of hope, but given that the whole country is suffering, it’s a setback for those trying to improve the lot of black people.

I did enjoy this play. It was amazing to see such a huge cast on the Almeida stage, and good to see an “authentic” piece – written by a black playwright at the time. I didn’t feel it was particularly shocking or even that powerful; it seemed quite gentle given the subject it’s covering, but that may be down to my detachment in time and experience from the events depicted. All the performances were excellent, though Novella Nelson (Martha) and Clint Dyer (Percy) were my favourites. The set reminded me of the Eric Sykes show, with the stairs, door and sitting room. Good fun.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

A Matter Of Life And Death – May 2007

5/10

Based on the film by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, adapted by Tom Morris and Emma Rice for the National Theatre

Directed by: Emma Rice

Company: Kneehigh

Venue: Olivier Theatre

Date: Thursday 31st May 2007

I enjoyed Kneehigh’s Cymbeline so much, that I probably expected too much of this production. There was a lot to enjoy, but some of it was just plain dreary. Even so, I cried buckets, and felt happier when we came out, so I’d obviously had a good time.

First off, I tried out the audio devices for the first time here. Although we were in Row E, and I would have expected to hear most of it anyway, I wanted to find out what it was like. The headset is quite nifty, and certainly gave me a louder and clearer listening experience than without it. I found the pressure in my ear a bit uncomfortable, verging on painful, so I may have to investigate other options, but for now this will be a great way to get more out of the many plays we see. I also realised I would have to avoid wearing my pendant, as it kept clattering against the base of the headset. (Audio assisted experiences marked (headset) after seats.)

Before the start, the Olivier stage was bare. At the start, the panel at the back slid open (up and down), and the musicians were wheeled on, on a rectangular bandstand with a white arch at the back. The music was not particularly pleasant – rather wailing and loud – and it went on for far too long, in my view. As the music got under way, the whole stage became awash with the cast – cycling nurses stopping to light up a fag, hospital beds with pyjama-clad military patients, etc. Various people were reading aloud from books, and at one point there was a blaze in the middle of one of the beds – why? They’d already discovered torches under the bedclothes, and strung them up, and then the blaze, and then some fire buckets were brought on and set alight, and I have absolutely no idea why any of this was going on.

Then one of the pyjama men, dressed in a natty pair of star-patterned pj’s, started us off with the description of the universe. This was where it first started to engage me. As this was going on, another arching staircase is brought on, and Peter, the airmen who causes all the trouble, is being set up on it. Then we’re into the famous dialogue between Peter and June, and I cried and cried.

When Peter jumps out of the plane, he’s held aloft by wires for a while, and then comes down on a newly-cleared stage with a (photographic) beach scene plastered all over the back wall, and a couple of sand patches deposited on the floor. This was very evocative. He chats with a small girl, who’s playing in one of the sand patches, then along comes June, and the great romance gets underway.

Meanwhile, up in heaven, or at least the waiting room, Peter’s crewmate is waiting for him. The angels, all in nurses’ uniforms, are booking flyers in, but so far, there’s no sign of Peter. The chief accounting angel has no sooner explained that mistakes aren’t made, but that if one were all the alarms would go off, and that hasn’t happened for over 600 years, than the alarms go off, and it’s all hands to the pump to get that day’s soul receipts balanced.

This is where we’re introduced to Conductor 71. He’s a Norwegian, not that long deceased, who used to be an escape artist, but who suffered the most embarrassing death, as the trick that went wrong was the first one his mother had ever turned up to see. Judging by his completely unsuccessful attempts to vanish in front of everyone’s eyes, she was right to be unhappy about his chosen profession. He claims that the thick fog prevented him from snatching Peter’s soul from the jaws of life, and so he’s sent back down with orders to put things right.

Back on Earth, Peter and June are shown in a more sexually liberated 1940’s Britain than usual. They’re snuggled up together in bed, minus some clothes, and having a swinging time. Literally. The bed is swinging from side to side of the stage, and as Conductor 71 comes along, he show us his gymnastic skills by hanging on underneath. Eventually he emerges, and causes time to freeze, so he can speak to Peter. Spare company members hold the bed in place, while Peter tells Conductor 71 where to go.

The story unfolds as expected – the doctor at the hospital who’s in love with June tries to sort out Peter’s medical problems, and eventually gets caught up in helping him fight his case in heaven. All is resolved happily (yet still I cried!), and I left feeling cleansed. So, what else to say about the staging?

Wheeling the beds on and off was occasionally distracting, but overall, I felt the production settled down into a good rhythm. There was a lovely sub-plot with a wounded airman who’s obviously very affected by his experiences. He’s playing Bottom in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, as staged by the doctor, and for ass’s ears, he’s got a couple of bedroom slippers strapped to his head. He hangs himself, which was distressing. Later, he sings a lovely song, which was actually a poem written by a deceased airman in the war; it’s quoted in the program notes.

While the doctor and June wait to see how Peter will go, they play ping-pong. This is done by having a ball on the end of a long pole, with one of the non-visible cast members moving it backwards and forwards between the players – great fun.  Finally, the bike crash was well done, with Douglas Hodge, the doctor, being lifted away from the wreckage.

Overall, I enjoyed this well enough, but wouldn’t particularly want to see it again.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Entertainer – May 2007

5/10

By: John Osborne

Directed by: Sean Holmes

Venue: Old Vic Theatre

Date: Wednesday 23rd May 2007

I would have loved to have given this production a higher rating, but unfortunately this performance was marred by the one thing which I never thought would affect a performance adversely – an appreciative audience. Listen and learn.

I was in a better position to appreciate this play this time, as I’m more aware of the Suez crisis, and other events around that time. I could see how the play was reflecting some aspects of British society at that time, though it still feels very distant to me. As we were much further back than usual, I had more difficulty hearing the lines – I think I’ll check out the induction loop facilities for the future. The afternoon was also warm, and the auditorium very stuffy, with the beginnings of crowded room aroma starting to percolate, so I did find myself nodding off a little before the first interval.

However, I also found the performances very good, especially those of Pam Ferris and Robert Lindsay, in the title role. The structure of the play is interesting, with domestic scenes interspersed with Archie’s increasingly ragged performances on stage. The final scene, with all the backdrops lifted, and the bare, empty stage echoing to Archie’s departure, can be very moving, with a variety of emotions surfacing. Here, however, we had the problem that the audience, instead of stony silence as he disintegrates in front of them, roared with laughter at his final “joke”, and applauded loudly as he walked back to Phoebe to put on his coat and head out the stage door. Not the usual send-off for a failed entertainer. In fact, if this audience had been around in 1956, Archie would probably have had his own TV show!

It’s a tough balance to strike, putting across that this guy isn’t very good, and is deteriorating fast, while casting top-class actors in the part, as it needs a lot of skill to pull it off. Robert Lindsay did a very good job, though as I know how good he is at song and dance, my own “baggage” saw him as a better performer than he was meant to be. The audience just couldn’t get enough of him, and I don’t know what he would have to do to put them off. I’ve looked at the possibility that this is a perfectly acceptable way to stage it, but I keep coming up against the text – music hall was on its last, tottery, leg and no audience would have reacted that way to this guy. Ah well, at least the Old Vic is doing good business out of it.

Pam Ferris gave us an excellent portrait of an alcoholic air-head who will just not stop talking. I often find with Osborne’s characters that his observation is pretty sharp, but there isn’t the compassion to go with it. Someone like Alan Bennett, for example, can have me howling with laughter at a character, while also recognising their humanity and feeling warmth, respect and a greater understanding for their plight. These characters were unpleasant, and the case for the defence never really got going, in my view, so I left the theatre feeling a little “underdone” – cheated by the audience and to a certain extent by the play.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Mistaken …. Annie Besant In India – April 2007

Annie Besant

Image via Wikipedia

5/10

By: Rukhsana Ahmad

Directed by: Chris Banfield

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Thursday 26th April 2007

This was only the second performance of this play, and it became clear early on that a fair bit of work is still needed, even once the performances bed down. The subject is interesting, but the play itself lacks some coherence, and could do with more humour. The performances came across as lacking confidence for the most part, but there was still enough enjoyable material to suggest that, with revision, this could become a very watchable play.

The action is basically split into two sections, covering Annie’s experiences in India in 1916 and then in 1919, with some later events tacked on. Given that she seems to be largely forgotten now, it might have been helpful to have filled in her background more, such as her involvement in the match workers strike, and her relationship with her husband and children. However, we still get to see some momentous occasions, such as meetings with Ghandi, and her support of the young man who became Krishnamurti. With such a rich life, the problem must be what to concentrate on so that the audience can get home before midnight!

The author uses a narrator, or storyteller, to provide us with a structure. She reflects back to her time with Annie Besant (a fictional storyline), and this gives us a window on the past. (This narrator is played by two women – the storyteller who stayed to one side and linked some of the scenes, and the young woman who enters the play and meets Annie in person.) We see Annie as an already established figure within Theosophy and the Indian Home Rule movement. She regards herself as Indian, and is convinced that India’s future lies in a close relationship with Britain – Home Rule within a Commonwealth, rather than Independence. We see her increasing isolation as she disagrees more and more with the choices made by the other Indian leaders, such as Ghandi and Nehru. And we also see Krishnamurti’s split from the Theosophical Society, which she initially rejects, but then comes to accept – why identify someone as special, gifted, and destined to lead people spiritually, then not trust his choices? While he travels the world, teaching, she languishes back in India, waiting for his return, and finally dies in 1933.

The main problem I found was purely technical – many of the cast did not deliver their lines clearly enough. Reading the play text, I suspect I lost about half of what was going on – it is so important for actors to project clearly. This was not true of everyone – on the whole I heard Annie fairly well throughout, and Krishna was usually clear, but the others needed to become stronger in their delivery – the storyteller was almost conversational in volume, and as she was located in the far corner of the stage, that made it very hard to hear her.

Secondly, there were some confusing aspects of the play. In one scene, after Annie is involved in inciting those attending a rally to riot, we see her on the ground, where Krishna finds her. She seems to be confused, rambling, doesn’t know who Krishna is, etc. Shortly afterwards, she’s steered into a meeting with the Governor of Madras, to be sent to prison as a terrorist (there is a war on, after all), and she seems clear and focused. I couldn’t easily see how these scenes related to one another. Had she made a remarkable recovery? Was she losing her mind? Why did Krishna appear to be taking her home and then leave her? Was it a dream? There was too much confusion in what was meant, so although it was possible to ignore that bit and move on with the rest of the action, it left a niggling doubt about how the information was being presented, especially in terms of the timeline.

In the final scene, after Annie’s death, as the storyteller and her character in the play are discussing the event, they express regret at not telling her the truth. What truth? I assumed it was to do with Krishnamurti not coming back, but it’s not clear, and left me with an unfinished feeling at the end.

The other main problem I experienced was the dullness of the piece. There is one lovely piece of humour, when Sidra, the character of the storyteller, starts to explain a spiritual term to Krishna’s father, and he explodes with anger, complaining that “Every second person thinks he’s a swami!” It got across the situation much better than several pages of exposition. Unfortunately, this was the only laugh all evening, and the whole piece felt rather dreary and worthy, like a drama-documentary. More humour would make it more accessible, especially as truly spiritual people are usually full of humour, in my experience.

Mind you, Annie herself comes across as a dour campaigner, so perhaps this play is simply reflecting her personality accurately. I was left at the end not knowing whether the play was a celebration of the life of an amazing woman who influenced Indian political thought and nurtured its educational system, but who ultimately fell into disrepute and became a forgotten heroine, or whether it was a critique of her work, pointing out her mistakes, while trying to remember her in some way. The title suggests the latter, though the elements of the play don’t entirely support that conclusion.

All in all, I was happy enough that I’d seen it, and would be willing to see it again, once the initial run has sorted out the performance issues.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Soldiers’ Fortune – March 2007

5/10

By: Thomas Otway

Directed by: David Lan

Venue: Young Vic

Date: Saturday 10th March 2007

This was our first trip to the refurbished Young Vic, and it was really good to see it open again. They’ve opened it up much more, although the character of the place hasn’t changed, and although the auditorium looks bigger, it’s still the same basic shape. (The loos are much better, as well.) The entrance to the auditorium is now in the centre, so I’ll describe all productions as if I’m standing in the doorway. If today’s production is anything to go by, there could be some weird and wonderful play sets to come.

We sat in the second row, to the right of the entrance, and fairly central. The set was very elaborate, more so when the curtains on the “stage” stage opened. From the doorway, there were several levels leading up to a proscenium arch stage with drawn curtains. These levels or steps took up a fair bit of room, and the stone effect gave an outdoor feel. To the right of these steps, the musicians were perched on a slope – piano, double bass, cello, accordion and guitar, with the piano player also on flute. David Bamber’s character, Sir Jolly, also played a few numbers on the piano. All the musicians were in period costume, and doubled as whores and watchmen. The music was good – a bit jerky and strident most of the time, typical Restoration stuff, at least as it’s done nowadays.

When the curtains opened, we could see another whole level behind, reaching back to the wall of the theatre, from the look of it. Another staircase swept upwards to the left, and there were some arches under it. Together with a sunken area on the extreme left of the performance area, this meant there were about six or seven different levels to perform on, depending on whether you count the actual floor as well, and the total performance space looked bigger than the seating area!

Given that this was a Saturday matinee, and not that well attended, it meant that the atmosphere was distinctly lacking. The actors all did their best, and there were many excellent performances, but the production just didn’t sparkle. With such a big area to cover, there wasn’t the same sense of intimacy we were used to, and the play itself came across as a bit thin, lacking any real substance. (One of the dangers of seeing so much Shakespeare is that other writing can seem insipid by comparison.) Still, we had a few good laughs, and enjoyed it as much as we could.

The basic story involves a young man who comes back from the wars with no money, and finds the love of his life has married a rich old idiot in his absence. She works a very devious plan to get together with her former lover, using her husband himself as the go-between. There are the usual misunderstandings, before they get to spend a night of passion in the husband’s house, practically under his nose (he thinks the chap is dead, at his instigation, so he’s got other things on his mind). Eventually, the husband has to agree to the relationship continuing, or risk exposure as a cuckold.

A sub-plot has the hero’s friend, also back from the wars, falling in love with Sir Jolly’s adopted daughter. Sir Jolly is the Pandarus of this play, constantly helping lovers to come together, and getting as much pleasure out of watching as they do out of the action. The friend finally wins the daughter’s heart and hand, so all ends pretty happily.

Hopefully the next production we see here will be more challenging.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Alchemist – February 2007

5/10

By: Paul Coelho, adapted by ???

Directed by: Dominic Knutton

Venue: Connaught Theatre

Date: Tuesday 27th February 2007

This was a bit of a disappointment. I haven’t read the book, but the opening set up looked promising. A couple of the actors, in costume, were selling programmes inside the auditorium. The programmes consisted of a plastic bag, containing a piece of paper with production information, some sand, a pebble, and a chocolate (bagsy the chocolate!). The other three actors were on stage. I think only one was playing the music, while the rest sat and listened. The stage itself had a large round mat in the middle – a story-telling circle. On it were some large reddish coloured blocks. Outside the circle were instruments and various impedimenta of the production. At the back I could see poles and wires, with small bundles of coloured cloth in various places. It looked like these would be raised up to create a backdrop, and indeed they were. There were three streamers in the middle, and two on each side, which were raised at different times to create different effects. The actors wore basic tops and trousers, except for the woman who was actually playing a woman – the other actress was playing the boy at the heart of the story. Headdresses were added as needed, and I particularly liked the sheep’s heads that most of them wore at the start.

The story is simple – a boy herding sheep has a recurring dream. I lost track of what he was actually dreaming about. One the one hand he seems to see a beautiful woman, and on the other, it’s a child who takes him off to the pyramids to find buried treasure. Anyway, he sets off in search of the treasure, while keeping an eye open for the woman. He has various adventures, arrives at the pyramids, and unravels the mystery, presumably ending up wealthy and with the love of his life, although this adaptation ends with finding the treasure.

Firstly, we found it difficult to ignore some massive coughing coming from our right in the early stages. It was so loud, that I briefly thought it might be part of the performance. Secondly, the delivery from a couple of the actors was on the weak side. The Connaught isn’t a large theatre, and we were seated in row G, yet I lost about half of the dialogue through lack of projection. I felt the production was designed for smaller auditoria – studio spaces perhaps, or theatre in the round. Thirdly, the blocks in the circle sometimes became a distraction, as the actors moved them around to create various settings. Normally, I love this kind of thing, but here it seemed very dull, lacking in imagination, and noisy enough to add to my hearing difficulties. Finally, the story itself seemed a bit simplistic and lacklustre, and I didn’t feel as engaged with it as I would have liked.

On the good side (and there has to be good side, or I wouldn’t have given it 5/10), I did like the music (more of that, please), the use of the cloth streamers at the back, the excellent sheep at the start, and the use of mime throughout to avoid perilous props, e.g. crystal glasses. I perked up when one of the characters is revealed to be Melchizedik, especially as he seemed to have uncanny knowledge of the young lad and his search. The effects with the wind, desert and the hawks were excellent, so perhaps all this production needs is time to bed down. We did see it on the opening night in Worthing; I don’t know how many other performances they’ve done. The actors are certainly talented enough, so good luck to them.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Letter – January 2007

5/10

By: Somerset Maugham

Directed by: Alan Strachan

Venue: Theatre Royal, Brighton

Date: Tuesday 16th January 2007

This was a play adapted by the author from his own story. Set in Malaya, it’s an account of the trial of a woman for murder, following her shooting of a man who, she claims, tried to rape her. But is it that clear cut? Well, the title’s a bit of a giveaway, as you know there’s going to be a letter involved somewhere along the line, which will have a crucial bearing on guilt or innocence. And the plot doesn’t have many more twists than a willow wand, but the performances were good enough (although I couldn’t make out Jenny Seagrove too well in the early stages) and the story was watchable enough to make it an enjoyable evening. At least Maugham gets some good humour into the writing, and the characterisations have more detail than average, although we’re so used to his style now that there are few surprises. The set was rampant colonial, with bamboo screens being moved hither, thither and yon during scene changes, and the theatre was so stuffy I found myself nodding off a bit during the first half (that, and a very late night yesterday). Still, a decent play and very watchable, especially for the Chinese lawyer milking the letter situation for all it’s worth.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Little Women – November 2006

Experience: 5/10

By Louisa M Alcott, adapted by Ali Gorton

Directed by Ali Gorton

Venue: Connaught Theatre

Date: Tuesday 7th November 2006

This was a good adaptation, and a reasonable production, marred only by poor delivery from many of the cast, more used to TV work than theatre.

I liked that the adaptation only covered the first of the books, Good Women, from Christmas to Christmas, and although they still couldn’t include everything, we got enough of a sense of the events they went through and how they were affected, though it wasn’t as good as reading the book, obviously. There were some cumbersome scene changes, but then the set had to cater for quite a few locations, mainly the Marches living room, but also Mr Laurence’s study, a ballroom, and the garden.

The performances were good, too, apart from the delivery. The various characters came across very well, especially Amy, and some scenes came across more clearly than I remembered from the book – like the problem with Meg and Jo sharing gloves. Overall it worked very well, and I felt this was one of the better adaptations this company has done.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Measure For Measure – September 2006

Experience: 5/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Peter Hall

Company: Peter Hall Company

Venue: Courtyard Theatre

Date: Wednesday 13th September 2006

This was an interesting production, using the idea of the Duke representing King James, who had published a book on good government shortly before this play was first produced. The costumes reflected this – black, black and more black (but best velvet, of course). The whores were more colourful – drab beige and brown. Those caught out by the strict laws had sackcloth draped over them, with a description of their shortcoming writ large for all to see – “Whore”, “Fornicator”, etc.

The set was largely bare stage. Three grills dropped down to represent the bars of the prison, with the middle one further back, to allow access. Benches, throne, tables, etc. were brought on as needed, and there were openings at the back on both levels for cells and viewing spaces for the citizens.

On the whole, the actors delivered their lines clearly, although for whatever reason, I couldn’t make out much of James Laurenson’s part – it seemed a bit muffled. Bit of a drawback, this, as he played the Duke, but he came across OK when it mattered, especially during the final act when the friar comes out of the closet. Isabella was very good. She had clear diction, and spoke with understanding as well as feeling. I could see her move from a position of absolutism to one of charity, if not actual compassion. Also, in that final scene, when she has to choose between mercy and revenge, it put me in mind of Portia’s plea to Shylock. In fact, I could see Merchant of Venice references throughout.

I didn’t see her reaction to the Duke’s first proposal of marriage; all I could see were her arms around her brother as she hugged him. There was no obvious response to the second proposal, either, and the Duke was obliged to leave the stage alone.

Lucio was very good. I always enjoy him, partly for the humour later on – the final act would be dreadfully dour but for him chipping in now and again – but also because he is the catalyst for Isabella’s renewed pleading to Angelo. But for him, she would have taken “no” for “no”, and left. He is therefore the person who helps her see better what she is capable of, as well as showing himself a good friend to Claudio, and setting in train the whole business of the play. It can be difficult to reconcile these two completely different aspects of his character, but Michael Mears managed it pretty well, and was very entertaining in the process.

Annette Badland was seriously wasted as Mistress Overdone. There don’t seem to have been any cuts in her part, but I remember seeing more of this lady in the past, presumably just in the staging. Barry Stanton as Escalus was suitably sober and dependable, and his scene with Elbow was entertaining.

Angelo’s a really nasty piece of work – self-righteous and as judgmental as they come. A good match for Isabella – maybe part of what softens her up is seeing herself reflected in such a man. These main characters worked very well together, and gave me more insight into the relationships between them. I felt the Duke was deliberately testing Angelo, as well as attempting to resurrect the penalties which had lapsed. His reaction to overhearing Isabella’s disclosure of Angelo’s offer to her brother was visible, though slight. All in all, a good production, which, as always, left me wishing Angelo had had the common sense to pack Claudio and Julietta off to a priest, instead of sending Claudio to prison.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me