Därkhorse Drämatists “Tales from the Script” HALLOWEEN THEMED PLAY FESTIVAL. It’s important to note, that while we favor newer plays, this festival is not limited to original work. Your submissions may have been produced at other venues, so long as it is unpublished and wasn’t featured in last year’s festival. Besides one-act plays, we are also looking for 1-person shorts & monologues.
NEWvember is a festival of rehearsed readings of new plays that will take place over four days at Belvedere House in Dublin’s city centre. There is no fee for submissions and all plays are read blind of name or gender by our panel. The spirit of NEWvember is to provide a dynamic, interactive and comfortable place where writers can hear their plays read by professional actors and discuss their work and creative process.
Fred Ebb Award - Each applicant must be a composer/lyricist or composer/lyricist team wishing to create work for the musical theatre, and must not yet have achieved significant commercial success.
Application Materials: A CD of up to four songs from one or more musical theatre pieces, with typewritten lyrics and a description of the dramatic context for each song; and
A completed application form.
*** FOR MORE INFORMATION about these and other opportunities see the web site at http://www.nycplaywrights.org ***
*** LYING LIARS ***
Review: A Revival of ‘The Liar’ Plays Alternative Facts for Laughs
Dorante, the title character in Pierre Corneille’s 17th-century comedy “The Liar,” has a little problem with truth-telling. Even when it serves no discernible purpose, he compulsively and ceaselessly — er, how shall I put it? Makes false statements? Proffers unsubstantiated assertions? Presents alternative facts?
Well, since Dorante (Christian Conn) is himself so blithe about his penchant for fabrication — and we are talking matters of romantic comedy, not matters of state — let us just say that he cannot not tell a lie.
Setting his sights on the comely Clarice (Ismenia Mendes), whom he sees strolling in a Paris park, Dorante, portrayed with swashbuckling heartiness by Mr. Conn, boasts that he’s a soldier from the German wars — although, in fact, he ditched a boring law career in another city. When she demurs at his sudden intimacy, he insists that he’s been haunting her doorstep for six months — when, really, he has arrived in Paris just hours before.
Watching in stupefaction is his newly hired servant, Cliton (the superlative comic actor Carson Elrod), who himself has a psychological tic that gets him into hot water. His “tragic flaw,” as he puts it: He cannot stop his tongue from uttering the unvarnished truth.
A LIE OF THE MIND involves two desperate families connected by the marriage of the son of one (Jake) to the daughter of the other (Beth). As the play begins Beth, brain-damaged from a savage beating that Jake has given her, is being tended by her parents, Baylor and Meg. Jake sends his brother, Frankie, to Montana to see if she is dead or alive, but Beth's father, mistaking Frankie for a poacher, shoots him in the leg and takes him prisoner. Thereafter the tensions and enmities that motivate the two families grow increasingly disturbing and dangerous. Frankie falls in love with Beth, but her brother, Mike, is bitterly determined that she no longer have anything to do with her husband or his loathsome family. Meanwhile the distraught, hysterical Jake, back home in California, is nursed by his possessive mother, Lorraine, and his sister, Sally, to whom Lorraine is openly hostile. Having gotten Jake back from Beth, Lorraine is determined to keep him with her forever, but Jake soon recovers and sets out to regain his wife. In the end, however, his will fails, and he allows Beth to stay with Frankie; Lorraine burns down her house and departs for Ireland with Sally; and Jake, bereft and alone, seeks communication with his dead father by gently dispersing his ashes into the moonlight—hoping to find order and meaning in the present by coming to terms with the haunting spectres of the past.
A modern ‘Misanthrope’ in the play ‘School for Lies,’ at Shakespeare Theatre
Until the middle of the 19th century, most plays were written, at least in part, in rhyming verse. Today, that’s as rare as powdered wigs.
“I’m definitely working against the grain,” acknowledges playwright David Ives, whose “The School for Lies” and its rhyming couplets are coming to the Shakespeare Theatre Company next week.
Ives has his character Philinte explain to the audience that this new show is based on Molière’s 1666 play “The Misanthrope.” Unfortunately, Philinte explains, Molière is not only dead, but he also wrote in French. “So screw Molière,” the character announces. “We’ll do our rendition in English.” And in this version, modern audiences are asked to imagine a long-ago, unbelievably primitive era when “scoundrels, loons and clowns of wild variety had influence, positions of great power.”
Ives didn’t write a word-for-word translation of “The Misanthrope,” but rather a kind of sequel, in which the same plot points in the same 1666 setting are presented in a similar sequence but with rawer rhymes and a more modern sensibility.
Farce: It’s all about lies and the lying liars who tell them
When I was growing up, my mother taught me that if you always tell the truth you don’t have to worry, because you won’t have to keep track of what you said and remember which lie you told to what person.
That philosophy might work for maintaining clear consciences and authentic relationships, but it’s poor advice for a farce.
Farces are built upon lies.
It can be a simple white lie a character initially tells to get out of a jam, but then discovers he has to tell more and more in order to keep up the deception.
As Dr. David Mortimore declares in “It Runs in the Family” at the Herb Strauss Theater, “If you’re going to tell a lie, tell a whopper!”
And he does. One right after the other.
And when all the lies he’s told seem to contradict each other, he creates even more lies. They pile up like the December snow outside his hospital.
Dr. Mortimore, played by Matthew Edwards, is about to give what could be the most important speech of his life. It’s three days before Christmas, and he’s to address 200 fellow neurologists; he could very well become the head of physicians and be knighted.
“Clever Little Lies,” yes, but not clever liars
Prolific playwright Joe DiPietro (Memphis; The Toxic Avenger; I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change) had an off-Broadway hit with his 2013 comedy Clever Little Lies, currently being presented at the Bickford Theatre in Morristown. The show starts out as an amiable enough comedy, yet by the end it has made its way into darker territory in which the characters’ cleverness provides no defense.
The first half of this one-act play (the first three scenes) establishes us in familiar sitcom territory. Bill Senior’s married son Billy has confessed to falling in love with another woman, and makes his dad promise not to say anything to his mother, Alice. Naturally, Bill’s father leaves enough clues (while thinking he is cleverly deceiving Alice) so that his wife guesses their son’s secret. To make matters worse, Alice is convinced that Billy’s wife Jane must be told the situation. In the fourth and final scene, things come to a head during a disastrous get-together at Bill Sr. and Alice’s home. One final lie that rings with just a little too much truth brings the evening to an unsettled close, leaving the audience guessing about the futures of both couples.
LIARS IN FUR COATS
It’s the title of a whimsical dance/theatre piece at Baldwin Wallace this weekend inspired by the university’s research on the social and mating habits of squirrels, presented as part of “fyoo zh en 17,” their new music and dance project. But it could describe a whole range of folks busy at work this winter.
New music ensemble No Exit is trying their damnedest NOT to lie as they present honest contemporary classical music at venues like SPACES, CSU & Heights Arts. Cleveland concert photographer and ailurophile Joe Kleon is hosting an online auction of some of his stunning concerts shots to raise money for the Medina cat shelter. Lee Chilcote’s new book of poetry hones in on the exactitude of love, family and marriage. Claudia Taller experienced the legitimacy of resistance when she traveled to D.C. for the recent women’s march, witnessing a solid wall of Pussyhats.
It’s a Bumpy Ride, What With Bette Davis in the Driver’s Seat
‘The Lying Lesson,’ Starring Carol Kane
Lightning flickers, rain pelts against the windows, and an ominous thunderclap is heard shortly after Bette Davis — portrayed by Carol Kane — enters the slightly seedy house where “The Lying Lesson,” the new play by Craig Lucas, takes place. The year is 1981, and Davis has long since descended into, and not quite recovered from, her period of low camping as a gorgon in Grand Guignol B movies.
A few minutes later, after the lights have gone out and the tempest outside has reached a ferocious pitch, there goes Bette into the kitchen, only to emerge with — gasp! — a butcher knife. Soon she is coolly barking out threats to the mysterious figure who has climbed through the window: “I will sever your carotid artery, woman!”
Watch out, folks. Could Baby Jane be priming herself for another rampage?
Review: ‘Double Falsehood,’ and Just Maybe a Double Byline
Whether Shakespeare or someone else wrote it, you have to admire the prescience of “Double Falsehood,” at least as it’s being staged in a well-conceived production by the Letter of Marque Theater Company. Thanks largely to a scalding scene in the first half of the show, a central plotline seems as if it could be a commentary on the modern-day scourges of date rape and on-campus assaults.
The play has long been a source of debate among scholars over whether it can be wholly or partly attributed to Shakespeare. Last year, two experts who analyzed its language asserted that Shakespeare’s hand is unmistakable.
THEATER: 'PACK OF LIES' AT THE ROYALE
HUGH WHITEMORE'S ''Pack of Lies,'' the new play at the Royale, tells a cold war spy story about KGB agents and purloined NATO secrets, but its author won't settle for entertaining the audience with anything as trivial as a suspense yarn. This is a play about the morality of lying, not the theatrics of espionage, and, in Mr. Whitemore's view, lying is a virulent disease that saps patriots and traitors alike of their humanity.
The playwright, who has the aspirations but not the skills of a Graham Greene or John LeCarre, may be too high-minded for his own good. ''Pack of Lies'' - which is adapted from a real-life spy case of the 1960's - comes across as a terribly polite English attempt at a Lillian Hellman melodrama; it's too flimsy and low- keyed to support its weighty polemical message and yet too pretentious to cover its ideological bets with cheap cloak-and-dagger thrills. What Mr. Whitemore does is allow some terrific actors the opportunity to shine in the sweat generated by their characters' many betrayals.
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