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Hop Fro is a delicious beer. Very delicious. A quick, seasonal from Fat Heads brewery; and a damn fine brewery it is. It makes delicious sandwiches. And delicious beer. And you know what else is delicious? Snake Oil at Ohio City Theatre Project. Very delicious. I think if you re-read this and think in your mind of Will Ferrell acting the part of George W, it works. It’s in the cadence.

Snake Oil is awesome. It was good fun. Mostly clean fun. Okay, not really. Arwen Mitchell’s piece is a Brechtian delight: overthetop costuming, outrageous plot, songs, placards, audience intimidation, with archetypal characters dashing about. And Sade Wolfkitten (Yay!!) of convergence fame stroking the accordion: adding the ooompah to the frivolity. The play has the subdued spirit of Wizbang in it’s vaudevillian shorts, but the plot is as risqué as any ca. 2015 bit of reality tv naughtiness. All of which is captivatingly captured by Kilbride (Amy Schwabauer), who dances and strides around the countryside (Canopy Collective) with a pair of torpedoes blazing across her bow. Apologies for slipping into pirate speak, of a sort. Schwabauer is a fiery streak of silk energy in a Moulin Rouge dress: kicking, dancing, and fighting her way across the landscape. Stuart Hoffman steals the show, seriously, in a bit of acting that absolutely should not be missed. Hoffman shows a strong mastery of facial expression, farcical energy, and crash characterization that carries some sections of the production. His devilish character (Dryeth) is the trickster at the crossroads and Hoffman wears all the masks. The devil has put his finger on poor Delacourt (Kyle Adam) who is only trying to sell his elixir of life, with the help of his sweet Kilbride. I’ve not seen Adam in anything before, but I see he’s in something coming up at Dobama. He does a great job of selling the huxter shtick: the song, the cadence, the energy, and the spontaneous oratory. He does a good drunk as well… in the play. I’ve no knowledge of how good a drunk he is (or isn’t!) elsewhere.

I’ll not give away the plot except to say that Kilbride and Delacourt claim themselves to be from Nice, France—which they pronounce like Midwesterners discussing the decision to bring Old Aunt Edna some flowers up in Eastern Star nursing facility earlier today. The emissaries from Nice are glad to meet their host country folk in a town they call “Best.” They sell their elixir, which turns out to be a liquid that induces somnolence in the “Johns” that Kilbride has made arrangements with. Once out, Kilbride robs the men blind inside their own houses, or offices, or whatever. A brilliant bit of New World grifting. In steps the menacing yet, strangely, happy-go-lucky journalist, Dryeth, who squeezes a story from our daring duo. Dryeth promises a sale, but instead delivers destruction, splitsville. A tale as old as the Moses testament and dangerous as God’s wrath. Angels and Insects, baby.

Sarah Greywitt directs and does excellent work using the space and no doubt the design aspects. She explains at the outset where the stage is (dashed lines of red tape in a discrete rectangle to the ‘front’ of the house). But she continues that the space will be broken. The actors will be out of the lines and about. She invites us, as audience, to move around too. Change perspective. (But don’t interfere with the actors.) The life of the wandering Snake Oil salesman is invoked, the set is excellent with highlights that create an impression, a reference to the whole. Greywitt keeps the play rolling and balances the energy of the actors and the energy of the script.

I’m not telling how the story ends. But see it. Experience it. Have fun. Laugh, cry, rejoice. Saw Peter Roth there, and his lovely wife Olivia. A wonderful eve of thee in cle. Buy some cool shit from Canopy Collective, too.

Attended a staged reading of Christopher Johnston’s play Nude Reclining into Shadow at Dobama. The reading featured the talents of Lara Knox, Dana Hart, and John Busser.

The following description is from the event listing from Playwright’s Gym:

“Keegan is a middle-aged artist who once reveled in national acclaim for his paintings and photographs. He’s been away from the limelight for many years, however, and survives by teaching a college class in painting at his decrepit studio. Now, just when he’s at a new low and the university is forcing him to retire, he meets Amaris, a beautiful, young, fiercely independent model who is equal parts inspiration and exasperation. She could become the new muse he so desperately desires to start painting again – or his worst nightmare.”

The role of Keegan was read by Dana Hart and that of Amaris was read by John Busser, just kidding, it was Lara Knox, with Busser handling the stage directions.

The eventual performance will be a mix of media, including screen projections (text and video), studio space action, and movement through time.

I have to say, from the reading, that I did not pin Keegan as a middle-aged artist. This had nothing to do with the reading itself, but more to do with the predicament of the artist, the unfamiliarity with more modern communication devices, and perhaps the social disconnection that were both of his own making and the passage of time. I imagined him as more early to mid sixties or later, perhaps. More specifically, it seemed that the artist character was reclining into shadow, shadow of a more permanent sort.

I’m not going to discuss the play too much because I’m still thinking about it and it has not been staged, which will make a pronounced difference. I will say that I found it intensely engaging and, through a series of intimate encounters, a play about longing with a heightened eroticism that I haven’t experienced in many plays before.

I do hope that it finds it’s path to a full production.