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*** CRITIC'S PICK ***
TICKETHOLDERS
by Travis Michael Holder
Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings
Theatre @ Boston Court
The advent of the Theatre @ Boston Court's newest and most monumental triumph to date, Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings, cult-a-licious composer Eric Whitacre's epic fusion of musical theatre, opera, martial arts and even world-class anime, may easily herald the most remarkable use of a 99-seat stage inÉ wellÉ ever.
Let's start by admitting that the first given to explain the startling success of this world premiere is the facility itself, simply the most stunning example of state-of-the-art theatrical technology ever to be created for a Waiver-sized playing space. Thanks to the gracious and too rare artistic sponsorship of Z. Clark Branson, who generously gave T@BC's executive director Eileen T'Kaye enough deep-pocketed financial support to buy a parking lot next to Pasadena's Ice House, dig a big ol' hole there and literally invent the two-theatre complex from the ground up, we Angelenos have a resource unlike any other anywhere in America.
As someone who had the great fortune of appearing at T@BC in 2004's west coast premiere of Chuck Mee's Summertime (a production which, now considering the subsequent acceptance of Boston Court as a place where new things are tried without concern for commercial viability, was about two years ahead of its time to be appreciated fully), let me state without hesitation from my unique perspective as both an actor and a passionate theatre writer that this is the coolest place to work in a town so notorious for often taking its vast and willing pool of theatre artists completely for granted.
The acoustics at T@BC are amazing, the stage (as well as the adjacent smaller Branson concert space) was designed to be incredibly versatile regardless of the need, the grid for lighting designers to hang their instruments is hydraulically controlled, and the light booth is, in the words of Pasadena Playhouse artistic director Sheldon Epps, "bigger than some theatres where I've worked."
Add into the mix that the green room seems to have a continuous source for magically apparating cheese plates and other Trader Joe-y munchables and that the sparkling new dressing rooms have friggin' showers in them, and it's not hard to see why every actor who's worked there during T@BC's meteoric four year history wants to just plain move in-or at least chain oneself to the riggings until the people who run the place create a repertory company there. For me, I'd gladly take a big towel and my own bowl placed on the floor in the corner of Michetti's office and share the space with the theatre's beloved mascot canine Ginger. Yup. I'd be fine with that.
Of all the artistic and technical achievements offered at the Boston Court to date, Paradise Lost, Whitacre's first attempt at writing for the musical theatre (he's also the bookwriter), is the most ambitious yet. With the financial collaboration of Peter Schneider to augment all the wonders T@BC comes up with on a regular basis, this Paradise features a dynamic and unstoppably youthful cast of 20, spirited choreography by Bubba Carr, incredibly complex musical direction by Greg Chun leading cellist (Fang Fang Xu) and the On Ensemble troupe of Taiko drummers playing live from the elevated grids above either side of the stage, as well as incredibly professional-grade gigantic projected anime sequences worthy of InuYasha, expertly produced by Kirk Hanson and created by Lyn Garza and Michael Manning.
Now include some of LA's finest designers, including a sweeping set by Tom Buderwitz, gloriously atmospheric lighting by Steven Young, appropriately decibel-shattering sound by Martin Carrillo, knockout costuming right out of Mad Max by Soojin Lee, and incredible tribal tattoos and hair concoctions by Becca Coffman, and this one's a totally win-win situation, something akin to Cirque du Soleil meets Amadeus in a Jackie Chan movie played on Adult Swim.
At the directorial helm of all this is the Boston Court's mega-talented co-artistic director Michael Michetti, whose visualizations of armoires opening to unveil enchanted wonders and other theatrical delights helped make Summertime so brilliant-and made my experience appearing in his arresting re-envisioning of Brecht's Edward II for Circle X at the former Actors Gang Theatre one of my fondest memories as a performer. Here in Paradise Michetti is at his finest, obviously adoring the work and the incredibly haunting score by Whitacre.
And therein lies the underlying wonder of this E-ride trip to Paradise-the music. The work of Whitacre, who in person looks more like a rock star than a composer of classical music, has already afforded this guy a fervent worldwide following for his gossamer, almost surreal electronically augmented compositions, his eclectic signature style rich with excitingly dense choral structures bravely infused with electronic lows and ethereal modernistic touches.
Unlike any previous review I've written over the past 21 years, beyond me telling you how evocative and innovative is the work of Whitacre, I can suggest a link to listen to at least one of Paradise Lost's songs for yourselves by logging onto www.ericwhitacre.com. Click on the face of Hila Plitmann and then on "Butterflies," which she performs live nightly onstage in this very presentation.
Plitmann has a vocal instrument that is simply unreal in its beauty, a high lyrical soprano that cuts through Whitacre's electronic augmentation like a knife. But as Paradise's plucky heroine Exstasis, anyone cast must be more than ready for the stage of LA Opera: the person playing this rigorous role must be a gifted actor as well and be able to tumble her way through Caleb Terray's spectacular fight choreography as though she'd trained with the ghost of Bruce Lee himself.
Since Plitmann also has a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, simply being Mrs. Eric Whitacre on the side is no reason to assume nepotism was a factor in casting her here; to the contrary, maybe instead the crafty guy married her to assure she's play this role. But then I assume Whitacre didn't propose to all other 19 outrageously talented participants in this production, making me wonder if Michetti and casting director Julia Flores deserve some kind of special achievement award at the end of the year just for compiling this eye-popping troupe of young twentysomethings who obviously know no limits vocally, artistically or physically.
Michetti told me the casting process, though obviously quite exciting, was grueling, making the weary conspirators humorously wonder at one point if Whitacre and David Norona's lyrics about the gang of young wing-challenged angels should, rather than having them sing about their 17-year exile in their Paradise, instead be changed to reflect they'd been stranded there for 42 years.
Whatever it took to bring this cast together, the effort was worth every minute, as this uniformly showstopping ensemble of players proves themselves to be simply golden through and through. Granted, everyone on this stage has that familiar look to me: an entire troupe of performers completely into and mesmerized by the sheer genius of working with a mind like Michael Michetti's, here enhanced about a zillion times by getting also to perform the music of Whitacre, surely a man primed to become one of the most notable composers of our time.
Even more serendipitously, Whitacre was there himself as a hands-on collaborator for the entire rehearsal process, except when he had to leave for a week to attend the annual Eric Whitacre Wind Symphony Festival, which began in 2004 in Sydney and this year was held in Florence and Venice. I told you this guy was the real deal, didn't I? Mark my word, though I am hardly the first to predict his potential stardom.
But I digress from the deserved lionization of this Paradise of a cast. Where the most revered of musical theatre gypsies are talked about as being "triple threat performers," meaning adept as singers, dancers and as actors, the folks chosen to bring Whitacre's tale to proper fruition had to also be able to perform martial arts and physical stunts it would usually takes years to acquire-and if any of them are over 30, I'll eat my moisturizer.
The magnificently-piped Dan Callaway, looking like a fugitive from an Abercrombie & Fitch ad, is suitably imposing as Exstasis' ruling brother Logos, particularly memorable in his "Forgotten" duet with Plitmann and his heartfelt solo "Eldest of All." Kevin Odekirk, so memorable in the Rubicon Theatre's Songs for a New World two seasons ago (and a fellow devotee of Ventura Beach's homey Marriott), is once again a spirited standout as Paradise's antagonist Ignis, poignantly showing his strident character's hidden soft side in his ballad "Little One," tenderly sung to his treasured pet butterfly.
As Exstasis' stalwart band of rebels, the resonantly baritone Rodolfo Nieto is wonderful as the enclave's resident lummox Gravitas, especially endearing in his scenes with Daniel Tatar as the wheeling-dealing Fervio (who then comes into his own with a solo "All Alone"), and Juli Robbins and Marie M. Wallace are perfect choices to harmonize with Plitmann in the glorious "Sleep, My Child" and a couple of other equally unforgettable numbers.
But for everything Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings has going for it, the real celebration is the music of Eric Whitacre, surely soon to be recognized as one of the most daringly prominent contemporary classical composers of the millennium. Hang tight and move over, misters Beethoven, Mozart, Satie, Weill and Glass; there's definitely a new kid on the block.
Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings plays through Sept. 2 at the Theatre @ Boston Court, 70 N. Mentor Av., Pasadena; for tickets, call 626.683.6883.
Daily Variety
Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings
(The Theater@Boston Court; 99 seats; $34 top) A
Theater@Boston Court presentation of a musical in two acts with music and book
by Eric Whitacre, and lyrics by David Norona and Whitacre. Directed by Michael
Michetti. Choreography, Bubba Carr; fight choreography, Caleb Terray; musical
direction, Greg Chun.
Logos - Dan Callaway
Gravitas - Rodolfo Nieto
Ignis - Kevin Odekirk
Extasis - Hila Plitmann
Pieta - Juli Robbins
Fervio - Daniel Tatar
Aia - Marie M. Wallace
By BOB VERINI
"Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings" employs not just original anime sequences, but the very structure and attitudes of classic Japanimation to spin out its post-apocalyptic allegory about angel children's struggle to build a new world. The result may resemble a musicalization of "Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome" but it's neither pretentious nor kitschy. Musically lush, committed and smart, tuner will appeal to a demographic far beyond comic book fans (who'll adore it), for in composer/librettist/co-lyricist Eric Whitacre it introduces an exciting new, and potentially important, figure in the musical theater.
A Grammy nominee for his a cappella choral compositions, Whitacre here adds overhead
accompaniment of cello, synthesizer and percussion that literally lifts one out
of one's seat. A raft of beautiful melodies is complemented by disparate
musical influences, from the urban nitery's throbbing techno beat to the
massive drums of martial arts cinema, all unified by the spirit of youth that
both performs the piece and serves as its theme.
An anime prologue explains how the angels of light, preparing to engage with
the forces of darkness, planted their children, wingless, behind an
impenetrable rock wall until the titanic battle could be played out.
17 years later the promise of return remains unfulfilled, though Logos (Dan
Callaway) and henchman Ignis (Kevin Odekirk) summon nightly combat challenges,
superbly staged by Caleb Terray, to tool the tribe into a lean, mean fighting
force primed to defend the sanctuary. (Evidently the kids were dumped near an
Army-Navy store and tattoo parlor, permitting Soojin Lee to outfit them in
boots, cut-up fatigues and body art to strike fear in any army of darkness.)
Yet restiveness has begun to crack the sense of homeland security. Logos's
visionary sister Exstasis (Hila Plitmann) experiences pieces of memory - also
dramatized through pitch-perfect "Astro-Boy" anime, wide-eyed urchins
and all - that inspire a dissident quest for the missing wings, to test whether
staying the course is the best response to whatever waits behind the rock
barrier.
Whether one sees the wall as an international border or a metaphor for our
response to terrorism, plot can be read on many levels in the manner of
"Akira" and "Vampire Hunter D." What matters is not
"the" meaning but whether story has been told with forthrightness and
intelligence, and this one most certainly has, no campiness allowed. Company's
belief in the stakes inspires our own.
Lyrics co-authored by David Norona demonstrate graceful true rhymes and a
minimum of generic, freedom-is-everything blather. Logos is permitted to argue
his position (be focused and ever-watchful) forcefully enough to get a decent
dialectic going for a while. And the muscular score features not a single
romantic power ballad; any romance would be a trivial intrusion on a yarn
taking itself this seriously.
Callaway and Ignis sturdily convey the weight and temptations of power, while a
Timon-and-Pumbaa pair offers a welcome dollop of humor. Daniel Tatar's
dissolute rogue Fervio delivers a touching ballad of self-exile, "All
Alone" (though he'll make a Han Solo comeback when the going gets
toughest), and Rodolfo Nieto is sweetly affecting as the giant petty thief
Gravitas.
While Plitmann commands Exstasis' martial skills and spooky second sight (the
opportunity to cast a lyric soprano with a black belt in Tae Kwon Do must have
been irresistible), a slight lisp and insistence on vocal beauty over clarity
render her lyrics almost completely unintelligible, leaving aud too long in the
dark about the rebels' motivations.
There's other murky plotting, and show lacks a sense of the tribe's everyday
dynamic when not smacking each other around the campfire. And given a score
that dips so readily into the sounds of multiple cultures, one is surprised
that multiculturalism doesn't seem to have been a casting goal. Predominantly
staffing the forces of light with Caucasians creates unintended implications
that may be tough for some to shake.
Design team achieves stunning effects irrespective of 99-seat budgetary or
space restrictions. Steven Young's lighting envelops the characters in a
mythical glow but is never so stylized or self-conscious as to undercut their
human dimensions. Helmer Michael Michetti takes full advantage of Tom
Buderwitz's imposing granite rear wall, incorporating platforms and a
zigzagging pathway to the top.
At one point helmer evokes the Israelites under Pharaoh as Ignis drives the
tribe by the lash - exactly the kind of quick visual association characteristic
of the most artful anime.
All the talk about breaking through to confront unknown dangers serves to
telegraph the final effect, though its impact sneaks up all the same. The
swelling chorale singing thrillingly of "Bliss" creates a final
frisson that many another ambitious musical would envy. Neither we nor the
children know what awaits them or whether they'll triumph. But the sheer act of
breaking through visually, musically and emotionally becomes a blissful victory
in and of itself.
Sets, Tom Buderwitz; costumes, Soojin Lee; lighting, Steven Young; sound
design, Martin Carrillo; anime producer, Kirk Hanson; animation sequences, Lyn
Gaza, Michael Manning; production stage manager, Liza Tognazzini. Opened,
reviewed July 28, 2007; runs through Sept. 2. Running time: 2 HOURS, 30 MIN.
LA CityBeat
Theater Critic's Choice: ÔParadise Lost: Shadows and Wings'
Caught up in a war, a group of adult angels left their children in a fortress
17 years ago, with wings shorn Ð so the kids wouldn't be tempted to venture
outside the protective walls. Now, with the parents long gone, the young adults
train for a war that might never take place. Some of them want out, led by the
sister (Hila Plitmann) of the group's authoritarian leader (Dan Callaway).
Choral and symphonic composer Eric Whitacre's new musical (with some lyrics by
David Noro–a) avoids the trap (think of last year's Pilgrim) of dividing fantasy characters into all-good and
all-evil. The score is a fascinating mix of opera, techno, trance, rock, and
Asian drumming, and the singing is gorgeous. Michael Michetti's staging
features slashing martial arts moves and flashbacks told in anime projections. As the production takes flight,
thoughts of the real-life "war on terror" are hard to avoid.
-- Don Shirley
The Theatre @ Boston Court, 70 N. Mentor Ave., Pasadena, (626)
683-6883. Bostoncourt.org.
Opens Sat. at 8 p.m. Weds.-Sats. at 8 p.m.; Suns at 2 p.m. Closes Sept. 2.
Hollywood News Calendar
Paradise Found. The Theatre at Boston Court debuts a unique vision.
By John Fox ö
August 1, 2007
Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings introduces John Milton...to Mad Max. An innovative, high-tech mash-up of electronica, opera, anime and the fight choreography of the best Hong Kong action films, the elements combine to share a high tech, yet timeless mythology. It's a winning combination. The audience is witness to a collection of young (and impatient) angels hidden away by their parents in a time of war. Dan Callaway's Logos is the reluctant leader of this Lord Of The Flies tribe of lost angels - his stern veneer eventually crumbling under the weight of his secrets. Hila Plitman shines as Extasis, a scrappy angel yearning to see beyond the walls of their prison. Both display strong operatic voices well suited to the pop score. The athletic supporting cast is note-perfect. Michael Michetti directs the cast with a sensitive hand that allows the audience to believe in the whimsical proceedings.
Eric Whitacre's accessible compositions never falter, deftly transitioning from modern Ambient music to subtle cinematic scores without missing a beat. Martin Carrillo's sound design is atmospheric and clear, grounding the fantasy environment. Tom Buderwitz's elaborate set design creates an otherworldly playground that is used to great advantage throughout the show while Soojin Lee's post-apocalyptic costumes add a unique feel and backstory to each character. Special kudos to Richard Landon's radio-controlled DaVinci-esque angel wings. (Their thoughtful movements echo the actors' emotions.) Caleb Terray's poetic fight choreography successfully filters the best of "The Matrix" and "The 300" through Bob Fosse. It's a seamless transition from fighting to dancing.
The ambitious show is clearly much bigger than its intimate space. See it now in its "1.0" version before its inevitable debut on Broadway where, no doubt, the Angels will fly. It runs Wednesdays through Sundays until September 2.
BackstageWest
PICK: Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings
August 01, 2007
By Les Spindle
Boston Court thrives on taking big artistic risks, and this unconventional world-premiere musical is certainly bold. The highly imaginative piece melds a tragicomic fable reminiscent of classic Greek mythology with contemporary vibes, enriching the brew with Japanese anime-styled film segments. Added to these artful elements are diverse musical styles -- operatic, rock, Broadway, electronic techno, Asian drumming -- and eclectic choreographic motifs, including graceful martial-arts sequences. The result is a thrillingly original creation that defies pat categorization. That this visceral experience supports a stimulating cerebral narrative -- Beckett meets Euripides -- is all the more impressive.
Composer-librettist-co-lyricist Eric Whitacre and co-lyricist David Noroña found a simpatico collaborator in director Michael Michetti, who tells the larger-than-life story in audacious strokes, combining theatrical crafts into an enthralling entertainment, seamlessly integrating moods ranging from tragic to giddy. Exploring themes of the afterlife, the inevitability of war, and familial betrayal, the play seems very loosely inspired by John Milton's epic 17th-century poem Paradise Lost. In an unspecified era, the children in a civilization of angels had their wings removed and are banished to a hidden refuge by their parents, supposedly to protect them from constant wars. Yet the children's fervent desire to escape and their inevitable power struggles lead to battles, and their plight looks even bleaker when the motives of the parents come into question.
The gifted cast rises to the challenges, beautifully serving the lovely and complex score, mastering the physical demands of the dances and vigorous action, and bringing the intriguing characters to life. As the two focal characters -- the group leader Logos and his restless, determined sister, Exstasis -- Dan Callaway and Hila Plitmann are brilliant, eliciting strong empathy and singing gorgeously. As Extasis' good friend Fervio, Daniel Tatar makes a masterful transition from a troublemaking rogue to an emotionally devastated soul in the searing ballad "All Alone." Among other standouts in the beautifully balanced ensemble are Rodolfo Nieto, Kevin Odekirk, Juli Robbins, and Marie M. Wallace.
Greg Chun's music direction is exemplary; ditto Bubba Carr's choreography and Caleb Terray's fight choreography. The designs of Tom Buderwitz (set), Soojin Lee (costumes), and Steven Young (lighting) are inspired, and the animated sequences credited to Kirk Hanson, Lyn Gaza, and Michael Manning are magnificent. Considering the recent onslaught of new musicals derived from formulaic films (The Wedding Singer, Legally Blonde), this invigorating new work is a godsend.
Presented by and at Theatre@Boston Court,
70 N. Mentor Ave., Pasadena.
Thu.-Sat. 8 p.m., Sun. 2 p.m. Jul. 28-Sep. 2.
www.bostoncourt.org.
TalkinBroadway.com
Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings
More stagecraft than storytelling, the world premiere musical Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings has moments of stunning imagery supported by beautiful and inventive music - which are surrounded by a mediocre book and banal lyrics. The Theatre @ Boston Court's production, directed by Michael Michetti, pulls off a near-impossible feat: a fully-realized spectacle musical in a 99-seat house.
With music by choral composer Eric Whitacre, realized by Taiko drummers enhanced with electronica (and a cello), the bulk of the score is not your standard musical theatre fare. Modern but not atonal, more rhythmic than melodic, Whitacre's music - particularly when sung by the entire ensemble - can be an intense musical experience, if not the sort of thing you walk out humming.
The story begins with a brief prologue, done in anime and projected on a screen, wherein we learn of a society of angels, engaged in a war. Worried about the safety of their children, the angels locked their children in a walled fortress - taking their wings so they would not be tempted to get out - and left them, promising to return soon. The action of the play begins 17 years later, and the parents have not yet returned.
As the lights come up, we discover what has become of the abandoned angel children. They've grown up waiting for the day they would join their parents in war. They wear torn, shredded clothing - it's very Road Warrior - and every night they meet in hand-to-hand challenges, battling each other over their meager possessions and food rations, while wearing impressive-looking mechanical wings. (An angel wins when he removes the other's wings - much like flag football but with really nifty flags.) When a challenge begins, each combatant is framed in a spotlight while an unseen narrator states his name - it's reminiscent of the start of a video game, when you're shown the characters that are just about to fight. And then they do, with electric martial arts choreography by Caleb Terray. Between the fighting and the music, it's a hell of an opening.
And then, unfortunately, the plot gets moving. It centers on Logos, the leader of the group who got the job since he was the eldest and never gave up on his promise to keep the other children safe. And it also centers on Exstasis, Logos's little sister, who is sweet but flighty. By following some mystical butterflies (delicately portrayed as fluttering on handheld wands by visible cast members cloaked in grey), Exstasis discovers a secret golden door, behind which she thinks their parents hid their wings. Exstasis can't get to the door, though, as there is a small river between her and it, and she can't fly over it since she has no real wings. (The fact that the angels apparently can't swim, or build a raft, is just one of many elements of this plot that do not hold up under scrutiny. One might ask why, in 17 years, none of the angels have procreated - giving birth to new winged angels would certainly solve their flightlessness issues.) When Exstasis returns to the other angels to tell them about her discovery, Logos is very quick to silence her. As the story develops, it seems that Logos is afraid that the forces of darkness still surround them, and he'd rather just wait for their parents to return than to risk a flight.
At first, Logos seems like an interesting character, in that he's opposing Exstasis but actually has good motives for doing so. Later, when we learn that Logos is willing to restrict the other angels' civil liberties in the interest of keeping them safe, it looks like there might be a decent political allegory in here, too. But this goes too far - Logos doesn't just take away the others' rights, he treats them like slaves. (Really. Forced labor under a whip-cracking overseer. I'd find this an intolerable abuse of the plot, except the in-tempo whip cracking is an exceptional addition to a second-act musical number.) But given the way Logos treats everyone but Exstasis, the only real surprise is that he has any actual followers among the angels he oppresses.
The biggest problem with the plot, though, is that we have no emotional investment in any of the characters. There's nothing particularly likeable about Exstasis. She's stupid enough to think she can fly over the river using fake wings, and she seems blissfully unaware of the privileges she gets because she's the leader's sister. By intermission, I realized that the only reason I hoped she found the wings was because I figured the stagecraft involved in making this ensemble fly would be really impressive - not for any concern for the characters.
The lyrics certainly don't help. While a lot of the lyrics are not enunciated clearly enough to be understood, the ones that are aren't worth the effort. With routine rhymes like "she's gone from me/and now I see" - and one song in which all of the words are simply of the "bum bum bum" variety - the lyrics are instantly forgettable and do nothing to move the plot along or engage us in the characters' dilemmas. Spoken dialogue often sounds forced, with the angels unnecessarily peppering their speech with Latin words and phrases and the groan-inducing "kiss my feathered ass."
The cast is committed and hard-working. Exstasis is played by Hila Plitmann, whose program credits include soloist appearances with many orchestras and a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, a combination which ideally suits her to Whitacre's music and Terray's fight choreography. Dan Callaway brings a more musical theatre sensibility to his Logos, and his tenor makes a nice vocal counterpoint to Plitmann's soprano. There is little to say about the acting however, as the actors are given so little to work with.
Daniel Tatar plays an angel who is conflicted between doing the right thing and being selfish, and his guilty feelings manifest themselves in an entire song. However, his plotline ultimately resolves itself in a throwaway line, and you wonder why they even bothered creating this character if they weren't going to do anything with him. Unfortunately, one could say the same thing about the entire show - it is full of brilliant sound and fury, but ultimately signifies nothing.
ACCESSIBLY
LIVE OFF-LINE
(Vol. 12-No. 32-Week of August 6th, 2007)
The Theatre @ Boston Court in Pasadena presents the world premier of PARADISE LOST: SHADOWS AND WINGS, Eric Whitacre's fantasy musical of angels fallen from their "heaven" and their challenge to return back home.
Some seventeen years before, a group of angels dwelling within their heavenly
domain became lost through a secondary force that placed them within a
purgatory setting. One young angel named Exstasis discovers a way where she and
her fellow brethren can find their way back and to no longer be as the orphans
they evolved. Through hope, courage, and the power of faith, these angels hold
the key to the discovery to reenter to the place they once came.
This production is presented in an illusionistic way using as its best
description as one part Anime (a form of animation that holds its roots from
Japanese style storytelling), one part "adult" graphic novel (a
mature and elaborate comic book), with a touch of video game presence (with
more emphasis on plot and character development and less with violence), and
fantasy/adventure epic-style feature film (self explanatory). The scenic design
by Tom Buderwitz suggests a post apocalyptic middle ground, along with the
costuming by Soojin Lee and (angels') wing design by Richard Landon. Much of
the scenes within the story are told in actual anime animation projected along
the wings of the stage with its graphic detail and limited animation designed
and animated by Lyn Gaza and Michael Manning. And in spite of this show being
agreeable to the visual senses, it's a full fledged musical! The eighteen song
selection (with music by Eric Whitacre and lyrics by Whitacre and David Norona)
are not one's typical "musical" numbers. The tunes ranges from
operatic to electronic "underground house" that actually enhance this
presentation that is just as pleasing for the ears as it is to the eyes.
With such an epic production, it boasts a very large cast that features Hila
Plitmann as Exstasis, Dan Callaway as Logos, with (in alphabetical order),
Annie Abrams, Seth Barnett, Brad Culver, Jason Currie, Ryan Cusino, Jessica
Harwood, Lena Gwendolyn Hill, Emily Kososki, Eddie Lopez, Rodolifo Neto, Keven
Odekirk, Jordan T. Ogron, Kuli Robbins, Daniel Tatar, Katherine Terray, Marie
M. Wallace, and Melissa Wolflain.
With the themes of anime and graphic novels in place, this show would
definitely appeal to the "younger" (i.e. 30 years and less) set; the
same demographic that normally shuns away from traditional theater. And even
those north of thirty would just as appreciate the moody persona that rings
true. In short, PARADISE LOST: SHADOWS AND WINGS is post-modern heaven! It will
be a very long time (if at all) that another production such as this one will
ever make its appearance on any stage at any theater anywhere! In other words,
if one doesn't see this title right away, then just like the angels, it will
take off to its greater beyond! This show is highly recommended!
PARADISE LOST: SHADOWS AND WINGS performs at the Theatre @ Boston Court, 70
North Mentor (at Boston Court), Pasadena, until September 2nd. Showtimes are
Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights @ 8:00 PM, and Sunday
afternoons @ 2:00 PM. For ticket information, call (626) 683-6883, or visit the
website at http://www.BostonCourt.org
Los Angeles Times
THEATER BEAT
A dangerous world to face in 'Paradise Lost'
August 3, 2007
The leading soprano wears Doc Martens and kickboxes her brother's butt; her fly girls sport more dreadlocks and eyeliner than Jack Sparrow, and the conductor turntables the score to the rhythm of strobe lighting. They're all on the front lines of "Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings," the emphatic if underformed new rock opera at Pasadena's Boston Court, featuring a book and music by Eric Whitacre, and lyrics by Whitacre and David Noro–a.
A cast of 19, dense choral music, fight sequences, anime projections, puppetry and live taiko drumming (by On Ensemble) are all marshaled for a fable of liberation. Seventeen years ago, a fleet of angelic beings, facing a bloody war, hid their children from the impending cataclysm. Now those young refugees are nearly adults, and their asylum has become a sort of teenage Thunderdome, fractured by infighting and resentments. Their leader, Logos (Dan Callaway), battles with his sister, Exstasis (played with tremendous vocal and physical grace by Hila Plitmann), over the course the colony should take. Should they remain in their rocky enclave, endlessly challenging each other to tests of strength, or should they venture out to a new, probably lethal world?
For a 99-seat theater like Boston Court, "Paradise" is an undeniably impressive achievement. Directed with real scale and confidence by Michael Michetti, the show comes at you like a roller coaster -- a roar of youth, speed and metal.
But no matter how many resources you throw at a project, it all comes down to story, and here's where "Paradise" is less than ideal. Whitacre's sense of characterization and narrative never transcend a certain graphic-novel pulp, and the show feels a little hollow, as though it hasn't grown into its ambitions. Still, its creators have plenty of chutzpah, and it'll be worth seeing what they tackle next.
"Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings," the Theatre at Boston Court, 70 N. Mentor Ave., Pasadena. 8 p.m. Wednesdays through Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays. Ends Sept. 2. $20. (626) 683-6883. Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes.
Los Angeles Daily News
Friday, August 3, 2007
Choral composer Eric Whitacre may be among the next exciting musical theater voices. So, at least, say the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers an the American Academy of Arts and Letters, both of which have showered laurels on Whitacre's long-gestating debut musical, "Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings.
On the score of "Paradise Lost," that is. Nobody appears to have honored the musical's book, and after seeing the show's arresting world premiere at the Theater@Boston Court, perhaps the less we say about Whitacre's storytelling ability (he's the book writer as well as the co-lyricist), the better.
This production - a technological and multigenre fusion more operatic than straight-on musical - is as heavy on performance talent as it is chockablock with visual bells and whistles usually reserved for larger arenas. Credit director Michael Michetti, the Boston Court and underwriting angel Peter Schneider for delivering something rather grand and frequently astonishing.
But when not gaping, you may giggle. And the deathly in earnest "Paradise Lost" is not built for laughs.
There may be a dignified way of recounting a story of adult children of angels searching for their missing wings and the accompanying liberation it will signal, but this isn't it.
There's this colony of wingless - and therefore powerless - seraphim guarded over by protection-minded leader Logos (played by Dan Callaway). Many years before, the angels' elders, in the face of unspecified peril from the outside world, stripped their children of wings, promising eventually to return and take the kids home.
Seventeen years have passed, with Logos leading the colony - akin to a prison compound - in battle exercises. His kid sister Exstasis (Hila Plitmann), ostensibly the angels' savior, is less inclined to wait much longer.
Rounding out the ensemble are Gravitas (Rodolfo Nieto), a simpleton with a knack for thievery; Fervio (Daniel Tatar), who runs a gambling ring; Pieta (Juli Robbins), who makes the fake wings for the battle exercises; and Aia (Marie M. Wallace), beloved by Gravitas. "Paradise's" ostensible villain is Logos' lieutenant, Ignis, (Kevin Odekirk), mistakenly trained by Logos to opt for force over intellect.
"There is another way," Exstasis repeats in what appears to be the show's mantra, and she's going to find it. This "other way" involves a hidden key, an underground cavern and a silver box that, when opened, releases a mass of shimmering silver butterflies (maneuvered on poles by the ensemble).
Given the mass of energy, skill and visual dazzle that have gone into this, you want so desperately to buy into Exstasis and the angel's quest. But too often, extreme hokiness is an enemy more powerful than even a battle-tested angel can combat. -Evan Henerson
TheatreMania
Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings
Reviewed By: Terri Roberts
It's difficult to know where to begin in talking about the extraordinary experience that is Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings, the first musical being presented by Pasadena's Theatre @ Boston Court. What first must be acknowledged is that this spectacular new musical proudly defies easy description and categorization. In fact, "musical theater" seems an unfairly minimalist tag to attach to this ambitious work -- which is much more operatic and far-reaching than traditional musical theater fare.
While the small but classy Theatre @ Boston Court is not quite four years old, in terms of production values, caliber of casts, artistic vision, and an overall willingness to take risks, it often rivals -- and in this case, just plain out-ranks -- many of the more high-profile Los Angeles houses that have been around for decades. Moreover, with its epic scope of storytelling, its mythological, religious and fantastical heritage, and its multi-musical form, Paradise Lost would present any theater with a big challenge.
The story concerns a band of child angels whose parents secluded them behind a great cloud-covered wall 17 years previous for protection while they went off to do battle. As a further precaution, the children's wings were removed to keep them from flying away, an act which also left them defenseless and mortal.
The eldest angel, Logos (the thrilling Dan Callaway), was charged with the safety of the younger ones and warned to make them strong. Over the years he has held to that duty with a myopic devotion that has made him a stern taskmaster. Believing that only a dreadful darkness lies in wait for them outside the wall, he requires daily combat drills and regular fight challenges with mechanical wings (mimicking their childhood ordeal) to keep them ever ready in case of attack.
Logos' soft spot is for his innocent sister, Exstasis (Hila Plitmann, who fights like a warrior and sings like the angel she portrays), who remembers fragments of their parents' traumatic departure and yearns to find her wings and fly again. As Exstasis gradually recalls more of what really happened that fateful night, she becomes increasingly determined to escape the grim prison that has become her home. As much as Logos is led by a deeply-embedded fear that terrible danger surrounds them and constant vigilance is key to survival, so Exstasis comes to live by faith in a better world and readily risks everything to reach it.
Six years of workshops and concert versions allowed co-creators Eric Whitacre (music, lyrics and book) and David Norona (lyrics) to hone and shape this remarkable show, balancing focus and clarity of vision with wild inventiveness and a sense of adventure. Exstasis' flashbacks are revealed in classic anime-style animation projected on the upper portion of Tom Buderwitz's inventive set, which includes multiple levels above and below the stage, and reveals smaller areas with doors that unfold like wings.
The spine-tingling, operatic score is punctuated by live Taiko drumming, a gripping techno undercurrent, and outstanding choral work by an exemplary cast that includes Kevin Odekirk as Logos' second-in-command, Ignis, Daniel Tatar as mischief-maker Fervio, Rodolfo Nieto as the slow-witted but heart-smart Gravitas, Juli Robbins as hot-headed Pieta, and Marie M. Wallace as shy Aia.
Director Michael Michetti, another willing explorer of the imagination, does a stellar job advancing Whitacre's vision, as does the rest of the superb production team's work: Steven Young's atmospheric lighting design; Soojin Lee's punkish Flashdance-meets-Apocolypse Now-inspired costumes; Martin Carrillo's eerie sound design; and Caleb Terray's exciting fight choreography. Equally excellent efforts come from Bubba Carr (choreography), Becca Coffman (hair and makeup), Chuck Olsen (props), and Richard Landon (wings and special effects).
CurtainUp
Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings
There is always another way. - Mother
The most dazzling musical of the year maintains the consistently high standard of The Boston Court Theatre in Pasadena. Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings may play like a graphic novel version of Milton's fallen angels crossed with Starwars but a brilliant cast, haunting music, killer costumes and intuitive direction by Michael Michetti make it soar.
The graphic novel ambiance is enhanced by anime projections that, while not consistent with the tragic warrior tone on stage, do clarify the details of the rather confusing plot. Basically it's a power struggle, fear vs. freedom. For 17 years after a battle in heaven, the children of the angels have been wingless, hidden in a dark asylum, living on their parents' promise to return for them, as reinforced mantra-like by the oldest child and self-appointed leader, Logos (Dan Callaway). His principal opponent is his petite sister, the fiercely beautiful Exstasis (Hila Plitmann), who disputes his view of the past and fights her way through a locked door to the truth. Although the initial monolog by the vanished Mother which sets up the plot is often obscured by the musical accompaniment, it's not hard to get the gist of the story.
"Libertas Imperios" (Imperial Freedom), Logos's theme song, is an obvious parallel to the contemporary world but you don't need to dig too deep. Michetti has succeeded in making Eric Whitacre's book suspenseful and Whitacre's music, with lyrics co-written by David Norona, has an involving rock-opera quality. The children live in a constant state of rage, alleviated in various interesting ways, not the least by Caleb Terray's fight choreography and Bubba Carr's dance choreography.
The cast appear to be chosen for their superb voices and physical beauty. None of them disappoint but particular pleasures are Hila Plitmann as Exstasis; Dan Callaway as Logos; Rodolfo Nieto as Gravitas, a huge idiot whose ability to steal not only drives the plot but injects humor; Kevin Odekirk as Ignis, the most lost of the lost children who morphs into Logos's sadistic enforcer, Juli Robbins as the constantly enraged and mis-named Pieta, and Daniel Tatar as the prickly lonely Fervio. Whitacre takes full advantage of their range, from opera singer Nieto's basso to Odekirk's ability to reach falsetto.
LA Weekly
GO: PARADISE LOST: Shadows and Wings Eric Whitacre and David Noroña's musical creates a postapocalyptic world in which attractive young angels who sing, dance and practice martial arts live in a kind of Mad Max Thunderdome, where they await the return of the warrior parents who left them there years ago. Ably directed by Michael Michetti, this fantasy incorporates anime, Eastern theater techniques and big-ass Broadway numbers - and electronica! Despite an archly formulaic plot, the show somehow soars above its own romantic bombast. THEATER @ BOSTON COURT, 70 N. Mentor Ave., Pasadena; Wed.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; thru Sept. 2. (626) 683-6883. (Steven Mikulan) See Stage feature next week.
Steven Mikulin
Classical and choral composer Eric Whitacre's new musical shamelessly combines two of pop culture's more cloying fixations, anime and angels. Somehow, it overcomes the familiarity of its saccharine iconography in a show whose melodies are muscular while, at the same time, its lyrics, co-written with David Noroña, are surprisingly introspective. Receiving its world premiere at Theater @ Boston Court, Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings oozes dread, even in its somber, pre-show score - marshy, Eno-ish electronica accompanied by a virtual weather front of stage mist. Over the next two hours, Whitacre expands his palette to include throbbing beats that propel the action forward as a kind of trance opera.
In a long-ago war between the forces of light and darkness (a conflagration depicted in Lyn Gaza and Michael Manning's show-opening anime cartoon), angel mothers and fathers sheltered their similarly bewinged children in a walled city for safekeeping. (Where the armies of the night boarded their kids, this cartoon does not say.) There, the children were to await the conclusion to the war in heaven, which, with a little luck and good tail winds, would send their parents flying back to reclaim them.
Seventeen years later, the kids are still waiting. All grown up and covered in tattoos, fishnets and ripped cammies, they slam-dance and jostle across a Burning Man milieu. (Scenic designer Tom Buderwitz's thrust stage is topped by a large, raked platform whose granite texture is echoed elsewhere on his boulder-crowded set.) These children of paradise are lost but angry, insolent yet in search of authority, and the musical Whitacre builds around them seems like an uneasy mixture of Rent and Lord of the Flies. The characters are literally an unflappable tribe, since the parents removed their protean wings before leaving for war.
The society these grounded kids have cobbled from scratch does actually function, but you know it can't last. Already there is grumbling about the futility of waiting, and the air is filled with a vague urge to revolt against the sanctuary's claustrophobia. We find them puttering about their Thunderdome, with martial-arts tournaments as their only diversion. (Fight choreographer Caleb Terray must have worked overtime on this smack-down-heavy show.) They are governed by their eldest, Logos (Dan Callaway), an unsmiling taskmaster who issues orders through his often-dissed lieutenant, Ignis (Kevin Odekirk). Logos religiously believes that only strict military discipline can stave off the anarchic dark lurking outside the walls. His sister, Exstasis (Hila Plitmann), is a rebellious blonde seemingly named for a popular rave drug. Exstasis' nighttime dreams lead her to recall suppressed memories and discover an underground cavern containing the children's stored wings. Soon Exstasis' curiosity drives her away from her strict brother, Logos, and toward the influence of her wayward gang of friends.
Exstasis' pals are a mixed bag, attractive yet almost whimsically flawed. There's the unscrupulous wheeler-dealer Fervio (Daniel Tatar) and his dim but muscular sidekick, Gravitas (Rodolfo Nieto, who comes close to stealing many a scene with his low-keyed likability). Pieta (Juli Robbins) and Aia (Marie M. Wallace) are the kind of unruly homies whom Logos' henchman Ignis might bust for smoking in the girls' room - if paradise had cigarettes. Instead of tobacco, the pair partake of "amber," an elixir that looks suspiciously like Johnny Walker Red and is poured from oval flasks.
There is really only one conflict in the story and that is Exstasis' willful attempt to retrieve, against her brother's commands, the children's forbidden wings. Some viewers will find Paradise Lost's book (by Whitacre) to be a very formulaic yarn in which a virginal girl opens a box she shouldn't open, crosses a river she shouldn't cross and generally disobeys long-standing parental instructions. Despite this, he has created a watchable story peopled with memorable characters.
This Paradise Lost is a fable built not around Genesis or Milton, but upon Whitacre's own reductive mythology, which he fortifies with the angels' warrior codes, daily routines and even their own swear words - jokey alterations of Anglo-Saxon and Spanish profanities. More important, the musical is a Romantic story without a romance. The plot's only tension and love - albeit a nonerotic love - exist between Logos and his sister, Exstasis. For all of its depiction of youthful passion, there is no sex in this musical.
Instead, it plays out as kind of an elaborate afterschool special and probably should be marketed more to high school audiences than adults. This isn't a knock against the show - everything about Paradise Lost, from its hip music to lessons about peer pressure and individuality, cries out to be brought into schools. One particular scene, beautifully orchestrated by choreographer Bubba Carr, deftly showcases the story's nonpreachy approach to personal morality. It comes during the "Stealing Song," in which Gravitas effortlessly demonstrates how he can pickpocket nearly anything he wants from his unsuspecting fellow citizens.
Although Whitacre fills the kids' personalities and conversations with naive impulses, there is nothing condescending about his treatment of youth, no vicarious reimagining of bygone years by the writer. Exstasis and her crowd may brim with you're-not-the-boss-of-me tantrums, but ultimately they are fighting against apathy and struggling for an identity. When Fervio says, "This could be the only chance to get out of this slum," he's not talking about moving to the suburbs.
Director Michael Michetti's production, which sometimes leans on traditional Eastern theater techniques, looks like a million dollars, and every penny of that look goes to bringing audiences into Whitacre's world. Michetti captures the complex psychology of youth without infantilizing Whitacre's characters. Instead, the wingless angels (whose ages would have to range somewhere between 20 and 26) seem like brats still in their early teens - which works fine in this context of emotional underdevelopment. Every one of Michetti's enthusiastic, 19-member cast is in tune with the story (it doesn't hurt that Plitmann owns a black belt in tae kwon do), and all the principal actors perform their songs with energy, ably accompanied by the On Ensemble taiko drummers, cellist Fang Fang Xu, and musical director Greg Chun's keyboarding.
Although the 99-seat Boston Court seems like a relatively small venue, everyone is miked in this musical, which may not be necessary - certainly the ensemble's members seem to have the pipes to carry to the back of the house. Fortunately, Martin Carrillo's sound design is reliable and crisp, as is Steven Young's light plot. Completing the story's post-apocalyptic look are Soojin Lee's grunge costumes and Becca Coffman's hair and makeup.
Even if Paradise Lost doesn't explain why 20-somethings are awaiting the return of parental rule, or makes you wish you'd never see a Mylar butterfly again, it still packages the need to rebel and question authority in a smart box that even the most complacent kid might want to open. Which may well make it one of the season's more innovative offerings.