To begin understanding Anton in Show Business, all you have to do is start at the beginning.
Literally.
“The American Theater is in a shitload of trouble,” goes the play’s first line.
With that, playwright Jane Martin is off – exposing the flaws within her industry through a self-skewering construct.
And what’s at the core of Anton in Show Business, running at the Clarice Smith Performing Arts Center now until Feb. 21, is the unequivocal problem of the dying culture of theater.
Martin’s solution? Break all the classical rules of theater, including a minimal set, a nonexistent fourth wall and all 13 roles – including the men – played by seven women.
This self-deprecating comedy explores the journey of one small Texan theater attempting to put on the lofty, cultural Three Sisters by Anton Chekhov (“He’s Russian,” one character says plainly).
A na’ve Southern belle (Judith Ingber), a cynical New York-theater veteran (Ali Grusell) and a self-involved television star (Liz Brown) are thrown together as the cast by the out-of-touch producer with big dreams (Nevie Brooks).
Insert a big tobacco company as the corporate sponsors and a handsome country star as the leading man (also played by Brooks) and Anton has the recipe for a disaster.
But “is theater culturally important enough to be the subject of a play?” asks a planted audience member (Brooke Shoemaker).
It would be, if it weren’t for her interjections throughout the show – those little moments that ground the audience and keep the play from getting too, as one character says, precious. It is, in fact, the strength of Martin’s play: the ability to explore theater within a theater by making fun of it.
Directed by Jeremy Skidmore, the show is easily understood by theater folks and non-theater folks alike. Skidmore brings clever, well-placed direction to make the show uniquely his and enjoyable for all.
A minimalistic, abstract set, designed by Daniel Iwaniec, gives more room for the seven actresses to fill. Lighting by Jonathan Dillard and sound by Michael Saltzman create an environment that lends itself well to the direction of the show.
The key to Anton’s success, however, is in the ability of the ensemble cast to keep it together as they weave on and off the stage and give themselves completely to their roles (multiple roles for some).
The comedic timing is also crucial in Anton, and more than once, lines were delivered too fast, resulting in missed comedic moments.
Nevertheless, the cast succeeds most at weaving in the more tender moments and for their ability to stop just before reaching the heavy-handed sentimentality that other productions could easily be cursed with.
Like a crescendo, each character reaches her highs and lows, creating a show that pokes fun at itself, while also keeping a steady message. The ability to laugh at oneself while exploring a deeper issue at hand is a lesson that we should all learn – and one that Anton delivers respectably.
Grusell is notable for her portrayal of Casey, the bitter actress who is still fending off her mother’s nagging phone calls about her lack of success in the Big Apple. As Holly, Brown is equally committed to her role of the snobbish television host, who is secretly insecure at heart.
But especially memorable is Ingber for her wide-eyed Lisabette, the Texan schoolteacher who is auditioning because “the producer once had her appendix removed by one of her uncles.” Amid a sea of hopeful actresses dressed in black, Ingber is a breath of fresh air in really great heels.
The characters are stereotypical and predictable, but the cast’s portrayal of them is not. At the heart of the play, Martin seeks to make the characters easily read, using a twist of comedic parody and heartfelt moments to highlight a failing modern theater.
But a strong cast and skilled direction give Anton the deeper message of hope and conviction: That with dedicated actresses and an unspeakable love for it, theater will never and can never disappear – but neither will the critics.
Anton in Show Business runs now through Feb. 21. Show times are Tuesday through Saturday, at 7:30 p.m. Tuesday through Thursday and 8 p.m. Friday and Saturday. Tickets are $7 for students and $25 for the general public.
dnhan@umd.edu
RATING: 4 stars out of 5
