Theater

Over the course of his long and storied career, maverick American director Robert Altman reeled off a handful of cinematic corkers: Nashville, M*A*S*H, Gosford Park. Among Altman’s lesser films, sandwiched between Popeye (yes, Popeye!) and Streamers, is an adapted play with the sesquipedalian title of Come Back to the Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean. Folks of a certain age probably recall Cher in that one. And, like me, you may also remember it, vaguely, as a musical along the lines of Hairspray. But it wasn’t, and isn’t.

Pieces of a life burst across the stage; the years slip by, 1952, 1939, 1949. The audience picks up the threads of the story, each scene inspiring the viewer to piece the events together, to crack the code to understanding the life of Alan Turing.

Pithy, witty and wise, Oscar Wilde remains the toast of the sniff set. Though dead all these long and tedious post-industrial years, Wilde, the foremost icon of soft-soap Victorian sabotage, is always good for a sharp, stinging rebuke to the narcissistic pretensions of the bourgeoisie or some feisty fillip about sexual hypocrisy of the straight crowd. His aphorisms, with their subtle swish and sting, trip oh-so trippingly off the tongues of would-be wags everywhere. Morrissey, Truman Capote and Paul Lynde, Wilde’s closest modern kin, ain’t got nothing on the master.

“The names have not been changed,” John Dobbs says with a dramatic flair. “There are no innocent.” And thus begins the staged transcript of the deposition of John Dobbs.

There is this sublime passage near the end of Cottage Theatre’s current production of The Secret Garden when Kyra Siegel, in the lead role of Mary Lennox, bows low to the stage and then rises in hypnotic fits and starts, as her character commences a healing dance for her invalid cousin Colin (George Schroeder); seeming possessed, Siegel’s lanky body jumps and arcs and shivers through space, and the complicated grace of her movements defies the mundane laws of gravity. It’s beautiful to behold. So beautiful, in fact, that I found myself tearing up.

“Coming out of the first interview I called my partner and said, ‘Start packing!’” new LCC Theater Director Brian Haimbach says. In a discussion that was heavily peppered with descriptors like “smooth,” “easy” and “meant to be,” it is obvious that Haimbach is happy in his new home with the Titans.  Stepping into the shoes of local legends Ed Raggazio and Patrick Torelle, Haimbach has a big job ahead of him, and one that he seems to be relishing. 

The Actors’ Table of Eugene (T.A.T.E.) is showcasing some of the best comedy for women ... and potatoes. This installment of Eugene’s eclectic readers’ theater will feature some sort of spud in every offering. Local actresses will read from their favorite comic pieces, and so long as there’s a potato involved, it’s no-holds-barred on the material.

“There’s just no one who can touch her. Hell, I hang on every line,” Jimmy Buffet once sang of Patsy Cline. She is so much more than the first female country singer to headline her own tour, to perform at Carnegie Hall and to truly break down barriers of gender in country music. She is more than a tragic legend of young talent, villainous prompters and a cheating husband. She is a voice so strong and soulful you begin to wonder why you ever bothered listening to anyone else try to sing.

Near Amazon and 19th is a theater that seats 1,000 people — it is the second largest theater in Eugene. Its cavernous room glows warmly from the theater lights hitting the sea of red velvet seats. The elegant curve of the stage leads the eye to a custom-welded circular light piece, twinkling as it hangs above four candy-colored carousel horses — the quartet is hand-carved and painted, and worth $60,000. The theater director and his leading cast gather in the aisle, chattering about the opening night of their production, Carousel, on Feb. 21.

“That was the best play I’ve seen in Eugene,” I hear one audience member say. “It’s like something you’d see in Ashland,” another woman comments. Oregon Contemporary Theatre (OCT) opens a new theater and a new era with Next To Normal.

Fantastic characters, high drama, a peppering of unexpected jokes — the VLT production of Sherlock Holmes: The Final Adventure has it all, almost.

The year is 1980. Columbia University student Mark Beudert stood at the edge of the stage, coming in on the right note along with the rest of the chorus, as Kevin Klein and Linda Ronstadt rocked the house in a wildly successful Broadway production of Pirates of Penzance.

Fast-forward 32 years and leap across the nation, Beudert is back at it again. This time he fills the director’s chair, but still utilizing the lessons he learned as a sophomore to inform a new production of the Gilbert and Sullivan classic.