March 3 - April 8, 2007

Reviews & Previews

 

L.A. Weekly

Truly classic theater

 

Boston Court analyzes the meaning of one of the oldest stories on Earth "The Epic of Gilgamesh" is one of the earliest known literary works on the planet, but despite thousands of years and countless cultural changes, the story of the mythological hero-king still carries a powerful relevance today. Anyone disputing that idea need only head over to the Boston Court Theatre next Thursday night to hear the pre-show discussion "Illuminations," in which a stellar panel of religious experts, as well as prominent LA theater critic Steven Leigh Morris, discuss the spiritual impact of the story, which has been adapted into this world premiere play.

 

Joining Morris on the stage for a pre-show discussion are prominent civil rights activist Rev. Inman Moore, who was pastor at Grace United Methodist Church in Pasadena before becoming associate pastor of the First United Methodist Church in Burbank; Glen Stassen, a Christian Ethics professor at Fuller University; and Rabbi Gilbert Kollin, former head of the Pasadena Jewish Temple and Center. Together, they'll try to plumb the depths of a story that explores the timelessness of love, courage, grief and the search for life's true meaning.?

 

-- Carl Kozlowski

 

The "Illuminations" pre-show discussion of "Gilgamesh" starts at 6:30 p.m. and the show begins at 8 p.m. March 1 at the Theatre @ Boston Court, 70 N. Mentor Ave., Pasadena. Tickets are $15. In addition, $15   previews for the production will run at 8 p.m. today through Saturday, at 2 p.m. Sunday, as well as at 8 p.m. March 2 before the play begins its regular, $30 run at the same showtimes March 3 through April 8. Call (626) 683-6883, or visit www.bostoncourt.com .

02-22-2007

 

 

L.A. Weekly

God Shed His Grace On Thee

Gilgamesh, Orestes, and America under fire

By STEVEN LEIGH MORRIS

Wednesday, March 21, 2007 - 3:00 pm

Ego and alter ego (Oparei and Watkins) search for meaning in Gilgamesh.

 

Zack Snyder's just-released film, 300, is a hit - a flashy, fleshy, violent account of the Battle of Thermopylae, during which 300 Spartans tried to defend themselves against a bazillion marauding Persians. Curiously, while 300 was setting national box-office records, two local theater companies were preparing productions of ancient works originating from the Middle East (Gilgamesh at Pasadena's Theatre @ Boston Court) and from Greece (Orestes Remembered: The Fury Project, spun from Aeschylus' Agamemnon and presented by Ghost Road Company at Santa Monica's Powerhouse Theatre).

That 300 captured the hearts (and $70 million in its first week) of American moviegoers offers a view into the deepest recesses of our national psyche. Though Gilgamesh and Agamemnon have very different structures from each other, they both stand in opposition to stories like 300. They show not just the glory of the battle, but how wars of conquest become attached to endless cycles of violence and tragedy. Life is a fleeting visage, these stories suggest. We can never be too sure of what's really going on. The most we can do is love our families, love life, and keep our heads down.

This is not the message you'll take home from 300, which is about the virtues of honor, duty, glory and combat. The movie is based on Frank Miller's five-issue comic book published by Dark Horse Comics in 1998. These kinds of stories — which run from taming-of-the-West myths (in which straggling pioneers wanting just a plot of land and a cow to graze on it survive hostile tribes on the prairie) through that metaphysical American, Superman, and beyond — have always done well in Hollywood because they tap the essence of America's Higher Purpose. We freed slaves and opened markets. We liberated Auschwitz. We spread capitalism and democracy to the Philippines, put our people in charge over in Iran and down in Central and South America. We even nuked Japan, and God blessed us with ever more power and prosperity. With a history like that, how could Superman not embody the unchallenged, blissful simplicity of our rectitude and resolve?

Stephen Mitchell's translation of the Sumerian poem "Gilgamesh" (adapted by co-director Stephen Sachs) derives from the oldest written text we know, a fable based on the life of a despotic king who ruled circa 2700 B.C. The poem itself was composed about a millennium later, and the 11 stone tablets on which it was inscribed were unearthed in what's now southern Iraq in the mid-19th century. And though "Gilgamesh" concerns what it means to be human, it could be said to be about the conflict between comics and literature.

Gilgamesh (DeObia Oparei), whose mother was a goddess (Fran Bennett), is the kind of king who — just to show who's in charge — sleeps with virgins on their wedding night while the groom waits in the next room. Prayers by the people of Uruk for intervention are answered with the arrival of Enkidu (Will Watkins), carved from clay and living naked and untamed in the forest. A sex goddess (Cynthia Boorujy) seduces him, and their union civilizes and humanizes Enkidu so that he can enter polite society. In this production, Enkidu steps into Gilgamesh's view just as the king is about to deflower yet another virgin. Enkidu challenges Gilgamesh, and the king likes that, accepting Enkidu as a brother. Both actors are buff — one is black, the other white, ego and alter ego, superhuman and subhuman. After a bout of wrestling reveals their matched strength, Gilgamesh gets the idea to travel with Enkidu into the Cedar Forest to slay a sleeping monster.

Why, you may ask? To prove he can. In the program notes, dramaturge Scott  Horstein suggests that this is the first recorded preemptive strike. Enkidu has grave trepidation about messing with sleeping giants, but in the heat of battle, when the (offstage) monster is mortally wounded and begging for his life (in voice-over), it's Enkidu who goads Gilgamesh to cut off the beast's head. This is where the comic-book version, playing inside Gilgamesh's mind, screeches to a halt, and the epic takes over, ridiculing Gilgamesh's hubris and teaching him a thing or two. Shortly before expiring, the monster spits out a curse that Enkidu should suffer a painful death. You don't just decapitate a monster of your choosing, then walk away. On his continuing adventures, Gilgamesh must endure the monster's prophecy, then the fear of his own mortality, a futile quest for eternal youth and profound introspection on the purpose of life.

Sachs and Jessica Kubzansky stage a robust, physical production in front of Uruk's city wall, well spoken by the actors. Sea travel across the waters of death is depicted with a prop boat and billowing silks. For all such classic storytelling techniques, there remains a subtle distance between the audience and the show, which may be a curse of having such a lavishly equipped intimate theater. As with the Taper, it's as though the space itself demands opulent production values, rather than this production's silk and video-projection minimalism, or it feels just a little bit emptier than it should.

Also very close, but not quite there, is writer-director Katharine Noon's gorgeous and almost flippant spin on Agamemnon. She calls it Orestes Remembered: The Fury Project, and a devoted ensemble has developed it for the better part of a year. The extent of that devotion shows up on the stage and makes this production a must-see. Noon staged related works in 2001: Clyt at Home, based on the woes of Clytemnestra and her kids waiting for her hubbie, General Agamemnon, to return from the Trojan Wars; and Elektra-La-La in 1995, a study of Clytemnestra's infamous daughter.

In the legend, Clytemnestra is livid because Agamemnon sacrificed their daughter, Iphigenia, in exchange for favorable sea winds. She and her lover off the general upon his return, provoking their skittish son Orestes (Ronnie Clark) to stab his own mother. Now, in this production, Orestes is haunted by three furies (Kelsey Barney, Julie Lockhart and Cathy Carlton) — here attired in high heels and carrying handbags, like aunties from a Jerry Herman musical.

I'm not convinced the creators understand the power of this ghost story - of the penetrating way it questions the virtue of "justice" that's cloaked in vengeance. Watching Clark's Orestes slide down the razor blade of his torment has a horrific appeal, yet Noon and company give equal weight to putting Orestes on trial in a democratic election, which ends in a tie, and is therefore resolved by the goddess Athena (Brian Weir). They've got Macbeth in their hands, yet they feel compelled to supplement it with what could be taken as an ironic comment on the scandalous 2000 U.S. election. Such an election is in the ancient legend, and there's no reason to lose it. Like a sloppy shirt, it simply needs to be tucked in, so that the two stories are part of the same classical suit.

Maureen Weiss' lovely set packages the saga in miniature via a kind of foldout suitcase that embodies the diminished, ramshackle House of Atreus. The characters presume they're larger than life, that they can take justice into their own hands, while crouching to get through the damn door. Even the gods who drop in for a card game have to suffer through it. It's very funny.

In 300, the aggrieved, brave Spartans unintentionally look quite stupid. Gilgamesh and Orestes Remembered are stories largely about the folly of such heroic posturing. Taken from ancient appeals for wisdom and compromise among testy neighbors, they certainly pertain to a contemporary world that's growing smaller and hotter.


GILGAMESH | Adapted by STEPHEN SACHS from a new translation by STEPHEN MITCHELL | At THEATER @ BOSTON COURT, 70 Mentor Ave., Pasadena | Through April 8 | (626) 683-6883

ORESTES REMEMBERED: The Fury Project | Written and directed by KATHARINE NOON | Presented by Ghost Road Company at the POWERHOUSE THEATRE, 3116 Second St., Santa Monica | Through March 31 | (866) 633-6246

 

 

Pasadena Star News

Review: Gilgamesh (The Theatre at Boston Court)

by Frances Baum Nicholson

 

The oldest known story ever written down is that of Gilgamesh—a tale of power, grief and spiritual discovery equal to the more commonly known myths of the Greeks or Norse. Interest in "Gilgamesh" has risen in the past few years, in part because it comes from the general area of modern Iraq, and in part due to its all-too-familiar themes: the nature of mortality, fallibility, and the limits of authoritarian regimes.

 

Among several new translations, Stephen Mitchell's has been adapted by Stephen Sachs into an impressively spare theater piece now at The Theatre At Boston Court in Pasadena. Sachs and fellow Boston Court artistic director Jessica Kubzansky direct what becomes a thoughtful and timeless excursion into the mystical.

 

Deobia Oparei makes the large, powerful Gilgamesh as imposing and passionate a character as the story demands. This becomes most apparent as Gilgamesh builds a relationship with the wild man Enkidu, given a fascinating blend of innocence and forcefulness by Will Watkins.

 

Yet, in the midst of all this passion and intensity, what makes this surprisingly universal story work is the sensitivity with which its most raw and visceral moments are handled. Enkidu arises as a creation of the gods to live wild and naked in the forest, and yet watching him never flickers into a more prurient pursuit. As the priestess called upon to civilize him through sexual contact, Necar Zadegan brings to their coupling an air of ritual and the sacred as ancient as the goddess worship from which it arises. The small but integral part of Gilgamesh's priestess-mother, given warmth and wisdom by Fran Bennett, underscores the power and ritual nature of the feminine.

 

Indeed, this sense of purposeful, almost sacred creation lies at the heart of why "Gilgamesh" works as a stage piece, the way fine Greek drama works as a stage piece. Everywhere is the presence of the gods, unseen and yet apparent. The chorus, here Shaheen Vaaz, Newton Kaneshiro, Cynthia Boorujy and Jack Kandel, bounce back and forth from portraying characters to becoming formal narrators and commentators, as a good classic chorus should.

 

More compelling still, for those who do not know it already, is the story of Gilgamesh himself: a man of unparalleled power, able to use people as playthings, who comes to a final sense of the meaning of life and power when finally faced with his own limitations and the deep well of personal human grief. How powerful to know that long before the Christian era, we humans knew so much about this, and have yet to internalize its essential message.

 

"Gilgamesh" is performed without an intermission, and its early minutes include both nudity and overtly sexual situations. Taking children, or anyone who would be offended by either or both, would be counterproductive.

 

What: "Gilgamesh" When: Through April 8, 8 p.m. Thursday through Saturday, 2 p.m. Sunday Where: The Theatre at Boston Court, 70 N. Mentor Ave. in Pasadena How Much: $30 Info: (626) 683-6883 or www.bostoncourt.org <http://www.bostoncourt.org>

 

 

Pasadena Weekly

March 15, 2007

GILGAMESH

In today's world, we seem to want our heroes saintly. The flawed Hercules becomes a wise, easygoing guy on TV, as opposed to the impetuous, not particularly clever man of Greek and Roman legend. Yes Hercules was simply a soldier, not a sovereign.

 

In "Gilgamesh" the titular hero is as mighty as Hercules -- a greatly admired king who is also feared because his absolute power has made him arrogant. Under the deft direction of Stephen Sachs and Jessica Kubzansky at The Theatre @ Boston Court, the emphasis is on a manly man learning manly virtues. In this world premiere adaptation by Sachs, who used Stephen Mitchell's new version of the ancient tale, Gilgamesh as played by the muscular, dark-skinned DeObia Oparei is a lion of a man, and he considers the women of the city-state of Uruk to be part of his pride. His people pray to the gods for salvation, and the gods send another man, Enkidu (Will Watkins). Gilgamesh sends priestess Shamhat to seduce Enkidu. And so begins an adventure that will take Gilgamesh to the world of the dead and back and teach him how to be a better man.

 

The atmospheric lighting by Jeremy Pivnick, coupled with Melissa Ficociello's minimalist set, create a lush epic, while Tamica Washington-Miller's choreography tastefully suggests sexual situation and violence. This is undoubtedly, an adult myth that skitters over the issues people might find questionable in favor of telling a story according the values of another time.

Jana J. Monji

 

LA CityBeat

Primordial Parables

'The Serpent' and 'Gilgamesh' tell old stories with new, and not-so-new, twists

 

~ By DON SHIRLEY ~

 

Extremely ancient stories can stimulate mesmerizing feelings of awe at a theatrical event. Or not. Examples of both outcomes are available in a pair of shows that opened last weekend.

 

The more compelling of the two is The Serpent, an Unknown Theatre revival of Jean-Claude van Itallie's 1968 "ceremony." Although seldom seen, it's famous in theater history. Its original production by the Open Theatre was a seminal moment for the American avant-garde.

 

The core text here is from Genesis – Adam and Eve, their seductive neighborhood serpent, Cain and Abel, the "begetting" passages. But these tales are supplemented by incantatory '60s words and images, including a repeated visual reenactment of the Zapruder footage from the JFK assassination and a brief excerpt from Martin Luther King's "I have a dream" speech. Contemporary reflections on everyday life and death are spoken by a doctor and by a chorus of four women.

 

It might sound like a hodgepodge, but director/designer Chris Covics and his 12 performers turn it into a gripping invocation of birth, death, and those in-between instances when you realize that irrevocable moments have passed but the end is not yet known.

 

The performers lead the audience from the lobby past the theater's regular seating, into a circular stage area covered with black sand. Spectators sit around the edge of the circle, never more than a few feet from the action. In-the-round configurations can run the risk of blocked sight lines, but the ritualized movement here is staged with penetrating clarity as well as fully committed passion. The title character is played by a handful of performers slithering as one.

 

Despite the continual close-ups, audience members are never thrust into the action – and for those who care one way or the other, there's no nudity, even during the simulated copulation of the "begetting" scene. The actors wear bland, anonymous workout uniforms that allow them to assume different roles with no fuss.

 

It's yet another eye-opener from the Unknown, which surprises anew with each production. That element of surprise is missing from Gilgamesh, a dramatization of the Mesopotamian epic at the Boston Court.

 

Gilgamesh has an impressive pedigree – Stephen Sachs of the classy Fountain Theatre adapted Stephen Mitchell's new translation. Sachs also did the initial directing, but the theater's artistic codirector Jessica Kubzansky assumed a codirector role in the last month, as the press of Sachs's other commitments (the Fountain's brilliant Miss Julie and the upcoming New York staging of Athol Fugard's Exits and Entrances) required an additional hand at the helm. The performances are excellent, including those of DeObia Oparei as the fearsome Gilgamesh and Will Watkins as Enkidu, his more mortal adversary turned ally. Everything is executed flawlessly.

 

But the Gilgamesh text and costuming are too literal. The style is story-theater, which sometimes devolves into the formulaic stances and stentorian delivery of a swords-and-sandals epic. Even though the action takes place in what is now Iraq, there are no explicit links to the present. The warriors and gods feel remote physically and thematically, compared to the more down-to-earth characters in The Serpent. Even the snake who plays a role near the end of Gilgamesh's tale is a shadow of the title character in van Itallie's play.

 

Still, if you insist on nudity with your cutting-edge theater, Gilgamesh has a notable edge over The Serpent. Enkidu, whose arm-first entry from a hole in the stage is the evening's most arresting image, begins the play as a naked wild man. He's civilized via sex with a priestess, then eventually has a full-mouth kiss with his "brother" Gilgamesh. In 2700 B.C., sex made people more human, not more animalistic - something that audiences in 2007 might want to consider.

 

 

Los Angeles Times

March 15, 2007

 

A distant 'Gilgamesh'

By Charlotte Stoudt

 

In Iraq, a powerful leader leads a preemptive strike against a supposed enemy, he drags a coalition of the willing into the fray, and the results are disastrous all around. Sound familiar?

 

The epic of "Gilgamesh," now being staged by the Theatre @ Boston Court, takes place around 3000 BC, a collection of ancient tales dealing with the fundamentals: justice, pride, mortality.

 

This show, sourced from Stephen Mitchell's verse translation, certainly looks gorgeous. Melissa Ficociello's two-tiered rampart set glows as if the sun had warmed it for centuries, thanks to Jeremy Pivnick's lighting design.

 

Alex Jaeger's opulently draped costumes complement the lyrical style of Stephen Sachs' adaptation. And Sachs, directing with Jessica Kubzansky, composes a dazzling series of stage pictures using minimal elements: a long table, a muslin curtain, a few rough-hewn poles.

 

But all of this stagecraft doesn't really bring the myth any closer to us.

Despite committed work from the cast, "Gilgamesh" feels declamatory and solemn, as though everyone involved remained a little too respectful of the text to make it their own.

 

The result is something more anthropological than immediate.

C.S.

 

"Gilgamesh," the Theatre @ Boston Court, 70 N. Mentor Ave., Pasadena. 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays. Ends April 8. $30. (626) 683-6883 or www.bostoncourt.org <http://www.bostoncourt.org> . Running time: 1 hour, 35 minutes.

 

 

Variety

Gilgamesh

(Boston Court Theater, Pasadena; 99 seats; $30 top)

By JULIO MARTINEZ

Fran Bennett and DeObia Oparei appear in Babylonian epic "Gilgamesh" at the Boston Court Theater in Pasadena.
 
A Boston Court Theater presentation of a play in one act, adapted by Stephen Mitchell from an ancient Babylonian epic. Directed by Stephen Sachs, Jessica Kubzansky.
 
Gilgamesh - DeObia Oparei
Enkidu - Will Watkins
Shamhat - Necar Zadegan
Ninsun - Fran Bennett
 
As the opening salvo of its fourth season, Pasadena-based Boston Court Theater is offering an earnest but thematically sketchy adaptation of ancient Babylonian epic tale "Gilgamesh," about the warrior king of the third millennium B.C. city-state of Uruk. Scripter Stephen Mitchell, along with co-helmers Stephen Sachs and Jessica Kubzansky, spotlight the high points in this ruler's evolution from absolute despot to world-weary pilgrim, but give short shrift to the transitions necessary to imbue Gilgamesh's journey with veracity. The production is elevated by the fiercely committed perf of DeObia Oparei in the title role.

Played out on Melissa Ficociello's impressively atmospheric open-floor setting, the play follows the relationship between all-powerful Gilgamesh, who has become disheartened by his own rule, and his soul mate, Enkidu (Will Watkins), a half-wild man of nature who undertakes a dangerous quest at Gilgamesh's urging.

 Although many of the thematic transitions feel arbitrary, Oparei and Watkins admirably convey the shifting dynamics of the relationship between these hyper-macho men as they attempt to conquer forces on Earth and challenge the power of the gods.

 Sachs and Kubzansky bring pomp and ritual to the proceedings, aided greatly by the dance and fight choreography of Tamica Washington-Miller and Josh Gordon, respectively, as well as the mood-enhancing production designs of Alex Jaeger (costumes), Jeremy Pivnick (lighting), Ellen Juhlin and Kari Rae Seekins (sound).

 Much of the actual storytelling is left to a highly active four-member chorus (Shaheen Vaaz, Newton Kaneshiro, Cynthia Boorujy, Jack Kandel), who play myriad roles. Lending support and motivation to Gilgamesh's shifting state of mind is his ever-counseling mother Ninsun, performed with stately gravity by Fran Bennett.

 The sensual highlight of the production is the seduction of Enkidu by the harlot priestess Shamhat (Necar Zadegan). The graphic, ritualistic coital entanglement of their nude bodies gives adequate credence to Enkidu's newly acquired desire to live among people rather than animals.

The most dissatisfying transition in the work comes after Enkidu's fateful encounter with a god sends Gilgamesh on a nightmarish quest for the secret of immortality. The ruler's transformation from joyful, all-conquering warrior to fitful, death-fearing sojourner is so immediate, it necessitates suspension of disbelief.

"Gilgamesh" is a potentially engrossing epic legiter that needs more than its allotted 90 minutes to fulfill its tantalizing plot potential. The performances also give credence for an expanded two-acter.
 
Sets, Melissa Ficociello; costumes, Alex Jaeger; lighting, Jeremy Pivnick; sound, Ellen Juhlin, Kari Rae Seekins; video, Austin Switser; choreography, Tamica Washington-Miller; fight direction, Josh Gordon; stage manager, Flori Schutzer. Opened March 10, 2007. Reviewed March 11; closes April 8. Running time: 1 HOUR, 30 MIN. Chorus: Shaheen Vaaz, Newton Kaneshiro, Cynthia Boorujy, Jack Kandel.

 

 

LA Weekly

GO!

GILGAMESH Based on the life of a king who lived circa 2700 B.C. in what's now Iraq, this ancient Sumerian fable, written about a thousand years later on 11 stone tablets, was discovered by archeologists in 1853. The epic fantasia follows the eponymous tyrant (Deobia Aparei) on his quest for glory and immortality. The story concerns just about everything that has ever mattered — ego and alter-ego (Will Watkins), aggression and civilization, grief and mortality, i.e., what it means to be human. Adapter Stephen Sachs co-directs with Jessica Kubzansky a simple, elegant and robustly physical production of Stephen Mitchell's new translation, mostly staged in front of a looming city wall. This production hangs on its vivid presentational style and grand gestures. The charged ensemble also includes Necar Zadegan, Fran Bennett, Shaheen Vaaz, Newton Kaneshiro, Kynthia Boorujy and Jack Kandel. THEATER @ BOSTON COURT, 70 N. Mentor Ave., Pasadena; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; thru April 8. (626) 683-6883. (Steven Leigh Morris) See Theater feature next week.

 

 

Accessibly Live Off-Line

(Vol. 12-No. 9-Week of March 12th, 2007)

 

Pasadena's Theatre @ Boston Court presents the world premier adaptation of GILGAMESH, translated by Stephen Mitchell and adapted for the stage of Stephen Sachs, is a tale that has been known to be the world's oldest story of a mighty king, his closest friend/brother, and the journey he must partake to keep the spirit of his brother alive.

 

Told with a Greek-style chorus, it tells the fable of Gilamesh, a king and warrior who hears about a strange human beast lurking among the wilds of nature. He tames this beast through the seduction from a priest of the female species. The best, named Enkidu, becomes a close friend, later a brother of Gilamesh. But Enkidu is mortal, and faces death. Upon the loss of his brother, the warrior king sets upon a journey for an external life and encounters the challenges that the gods and nature places upon him.

 

This story, known to be the oldest on record, dates back to c. 2750 BCE that takes place in the ancient city-state of Uruk, located in the present area of southern Iraq. Much of what's in this story can be traced to later writings from The Iliad to the Old Testament. Perhaps what is told within this tale was later adapted in humankind's later creations. Time wasn't necessarily kind to this tale, as later translations were either lost of just forgotten until the stone tablets telling the fable of Gilgamesh were found in the 1850's near the city of Mosul in Iraq. As far of this stage production is concerned, it is a stirring and even poetic story of friendship, survival of faith, and the power that sexual attraction can bring upon a human being. Deobia Oparei plays the role of Gilgamesh. His portrayal of this king holds the inspiration of an Egyptian Pharaoh or mortal god. Will Watkins as Enkidu shows his appearance as one that is just as forceful as his new brother, yet shows his being as a sole mortal. Fran Bennett is Ninsun, the mother goddess of Gilgamesh who makes Enkidu her son's brother in arms. Necar Zadegan is Shamhat, the female priest who tames Enkidu, and the chorus, consisting of Shaheen Vaaz, Newton Kaneshiro, Cynthia Boorujy, and Jack Kandel, tells this magical and mythical tale of this friendship between two masters.

 

A special note is to the staging of this production. Melissa Ficociello's scenic design is minimal, and thus enhances the story with the augmentation of Austin Switser's video design projected upon the background that shows an enhancing journey upon the ages. Along with Alex Jaeger's costuming, Ellen Juhlin & Kari Rae Seekins' sound design, and Tamica Washington-Miller's choreography, all come together that brings an old story to newer contemporary heights.

 

Skillfully directed by Stephen Sachs and Jessica Kubzansky, GILGAMESH isn't an "old" story that just came back to life. It's a retelling of some of humankind's desires, emotions, and believes that still live on to this very day. This stage production should be absorbed for just what it is. Besides that, it's very inspiring and entertaining. And because of the nature of some elements of this fable, it's highly recommended for mature audiences only.

 

GILGAMESH is presented and performs at The Theatre @ Boston Court, 70 North Mentor (at Boston Court), Pasadena, until April 8th. Showtimes are Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights @ 8:00 PM, and Sunday matinees @ 2:00 PM. Reservations and information, call (626) 683-6883. Visit the web site at http://www.BostonCourt.org