Advertisement

From Howard County Times Logo
subscriber services email print comment
Chris Donaldson and Steve Synk in "Little Shop of Horrors" at River Hill High School. (Greg Land Photography)

Another year of fierce high school rivalry is under way -- no, not out on those cold, muddy athletic fields but indoors beneath cool magenta stage lights. That's where curtains rose recently on the first two local entries in the sixth official Critics and Awards Program, nicknamed the "Cappies." By year's end, 11 separate productions by Howard County high schools and eight more by Baltimore County schools will be slugging it out for awards of excellence in categories ranging from design to execution.

One key element of the program provides for reciprocal student reviews. High school critics are sent to one another's stage offerings to provide reports on what they've seen and log a little experience in the art of reviewing. As space allows, Patuxent Publishing is committed to running a sampling of these student reviews.

Below are the first two such efforts, each followed by its writer's name and school. For more information on the Cappies program go to www.cappies.com.

River Hill opened 'Shop' on high note

Have you ever wanted to give your dentist a taste of his own medicine? In River Hill High School's production of "Little Shop of Horrors," the audience found out what happens when you do!

A macabre comedy that began as a sci-fi movie in 1960 with a cult following, "Little Shop of Horrors" became an off-Broadway success in the 1980s. It is the unconventional story of flower-shop employee Seymour Krelborn, a self-deprecating, abused man who comes to embody a perversion of the traditional tragic hero character. His curiosity leads him to develop a "strange and interesting plant" he calls the Audrey II, after the object of his unrequited love.

He soon discovers that the plant, although fast becoming his ticket out of Skid Row, thrives on human blood. As he feeds the plant, the plant in turn feeds his own success, turning him unwittingly into the selfish "up-towner" archetype he himself hated. After Seymour's final failed attempt to sever the connection between himself and the plant, the show ends with a strange moral: "unsuspecting jerks" get what they deserve.

The cast at River Hill not only sincerely understood the moral of the show, but devoted themselves to an authentic creation of the unique and dynamic characters necessary to convey that moral to the audience. Indeed, the production was characterized by such a balance between subtlety and energy, message and irreverence. The actors' willingness to commit to the absurdity of the show's premise allowed the audience to suspend disbelief and become carried away by the on-stage action.

At the forefront of the production was Chris Donaldson as Seymour Krelborn, whose ability to carry large ensemble numbers with as much confidence as when performing quiet, brooding soliloquies proved him an able lead. His powerful voice and unselfconscious physicalization, showcased equally by such contrasting songs as "Suddenly Seymour" and "Mushnik and Son," helped create his endearing, discomfited persona.

Steve Synk as Orin Scrivello, the dentist, was as amusing as he was frightening in his role as Audrey's abusive boyfriend with a nitrous-oxide addiction and an obsession with all things excruciating. Proving that he was playing more than a two-dimensional comic character, Synk played to the ironic tragedy of Scrivello's demise in "Now (It's Just the Gas)" with his slow, hiccupping transition into death.

One of the most noteworthy aspects of the production was the combined efforts of Bryan Becraft and Teryn Leaper in manipulating and voicing the giant puppet of Audrey II. Becraft was faced with the unique challenge of physicalizing Leaper's voice: while Leaper sung, Becraft moved the "mouth" of the plant. Their flawless coordination coupled with Leaper's extraordinary vocal ability made Audrey II a fascinating and engaging technical -- as well as theatrical -- element.

It was this seamless interaction not only amidst the actors but between the actors and technical components that made the run of the show self-contained and effortless. This effortlessness made River Hill's "Little Shop of Horrors" a captivating production that captured the essence of its own comic morbidity with humor and authenticity.

Alexis Monroe,
Glenelg Country School

Hammond students had what 'It' took

Welcome to the Sycamore household, where you will be treated to the twirls of a would-be ballerina, participate in a wrestling match with an aggressive Russian ballet instructor, and end the evening with a trip to prison -- but, you must remember, it's your fault for coming on the wrong night.

"You Can't Take It With You," the Pulitzer Prize-winning work of George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart, opened in 1936. More recently, Hammond High School invited us into the home of a happy family with its fair share of eccentricities.

Alice Sycamore, the only normal member of this family, is engaged to the sensitive Tony Kirby. As straitlaced as any well-to-do couple could be, Tony's parents are tied up in the observance of strict social convention. "You Can't Take It With You" depicts the farcical mishaps that occur when these two worlds collide at a dinner party.

Each member of Hammond High School's Sycamore family had a unique and individual focus while maintaining the bond of a unified family. As Essie, the dancer in training, Sara Koeppel dashed amiably about the house and, when not in focus, stretched quietly in the corner or practiced her pirouettes. Her husband, Ed, if not playing one of his original works on the xylophone, was finding an excuse to use his beloved printing press.

Eric Bricker as "Grandpa" Vanderhof was a joy to watch as the insightful unifying force of this wacky group, not without his own humorous quirks. Hannah Grabenstein as Penny Sycamore was also a guiding force, finding joy in her own hobbies but never forgetting that she was a mother first.

The set, in addition to being functional and well-made, carried its own creative flair with strange, mismatched knick-knacks and photos. The lights always arrived on cue and accurately portrayed the chaos of the firework explosions in the cellar.

So, whenever you get caught up in the crazy, mixed-up rat race of life, just remember the insightful words of Grandpa Vanderhof: "Just relax! You can't take it with you."

Sarah Goldstein,
Glenelg Country School


user comments (0)


login to comment

Advertisement

Advertisement

Advertisement