Tag Archives: Mike Dooly

Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo

Photo by Washington Ensemble Theatre

Directed by noted Seattle actor Michael Place, Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo, by Rajiv Joseph at Washington Ensemble Theatre (through October 7; tickets), poses existential questions with a poetry and fluidity that makes it at once heartbreaking and brutal. Though these questions are handled with delicacy, the revelations are nothing new, so while I was not subjected to any ah-ha’s myself, the fact that a tiger is broken up over his place in the world after death did give me pause (paws?) and shed a small amount of light on dusty crevices of Nietzsche.

The play opens on two American soldiers guarding a Bengal tiger at the zoo in Baghdad, and the audience is thrown into the mundanity of war while the tiger (played by the beautifully skilled Mike Dooly) waxes poetic about being a tiger and the pangs of dealing with more obnoxious creatures like lions, or the politics of escaping the zoo into a city that is very much not a jungle.

The soldiers, a manic trying to impress everyone but showing his adeptness to no one, Kev (Ryan Higgins), and the much more hard-nosed seen-it-all, even though he’s barely twenty two, Tom (Jonathan Crimeni), quickly devolve into a predictably idiotic encounter with the tiger that ends with Tom losing a hand and the tiger dying a less than noble death inside his cage.

From there, we see a city not just burnt to nothing by war, but also endlessly haunted by the creatures harmed by it (animal and human), feeling the effects of constant, pointless firefights while never seeing the action on stage. No. The stage is used to question the endlessness of war and whether or not any God is watching or acting for its creations.

The play is lucky to have such skilled actors and such a skilled director. Higgins and Crimeni are tragically horrible, while still being likable. Mike Dooly, as the morose tiger, aches with the knowledge that God has abandoned the city and himself. And Erwin Galan as the interpreter, Musa, is lovely as a victim of two regimes, neither of which treated him well.

The set, designed by Tommer Peterson, is beautifully constructed and utilized expertly by Place, gradually peeling back layers of a crumbling city as the play moves forward and alliances shift.

All that aside, there’s one overly distracting element about Bengal Tiger that left me unsatisfied even after some truly amazing performances, and that’s the use of female characters, or lack thereof. Call me a bitchy woman if you must, but come on. The women (Keiko Green and Leah Pfenning) in this play have no substantial contribution beyond virgin/whore/caregiver/shrieking freak-out roles, barely holding two minutes of stage time when they are present. At best they are props, and at worst they are emotional strings that Joseph chose to pluck for no other reason than to get a reaction from a suggested brutal rape and murder scene. Great. Reducing female roles to these basic stereotypes is utterly lazy, boring, predictable, and demeaning. And frankly, I expect more from the writer of Gruesome Playground Injuries, which performed in that space not three months ago.

In 2013 I expect more. Let me re-phrase: I want to expect more, but the realist in me knows that it’s fruitless to hope that a play treating all its male/animal protagonists with depth and nuance would also do the same for the very sparse female roles. And while it didn’t ruin the otherwise breathtaking performances from the actors listed above, it did depress me that two potentially skilled actors wasted their time serving as props for the gain of  male posturing. I’d almost rather they hadn’t been there at all than have them used in such a lazy way.

“Love’s Labour’s Lost” is a Win for Seattle Shakespeare Company

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David Quicksall as Don Armado and Donna Wood as Jacquenetta in Seattle Shakespeare Company’s 2013 production of “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (Photo: John Ulman)

Mike Dooly as Costard and Donna Wood as Jacquenetta in Seattle Shakespeare Company’s 2013 production of “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (Photo: John Ulman)

Rebecca Olson as Katharine, Scott Ward Abernethy as Boyet and Samara Lerman as the Princess of France in Seattle Shakespeare Company’s 2013 production of “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (Photo: John Ulman)

George Mount as Sir Nathaniel, David Quicksall as Don Armado and Allan Armstrong as Holofernes in Seattle Shakespeare Company’s 2013 production of “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (Photo: John Ulman)

Kayla Lian as Rosaline and Paul Stuart as Berowne in Seattle Shakespeare Company’s 2013 production of “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (Photo: John Ulman)

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Seattle Shakespeare Company is making a strong argument for your choice of Love’s Labour’s Lost (through April 6) as your favorite of Shakespeare’s comedies. This is astonishing as the play has a reputation for being as unwieldy as its title and riddled with obscure intellectual banter and philosophy. It includes scenes full of Latin, wordplay comprehensible only by footnote, and the utterance of the word honorificabilitudinitatibus (I dare you even to try say it).

There isn’t a weak link in the production — in fact, two immense strengths raise it from Seattle Shakespeare Company’s reliable competence to something approaching greatness. These strengths are found in newcomers: Paul Stuart, in the leading role of Berowne, delivers the text with ringing clarity and nonchalant charisma in his Northwest debut. Also new and notable is first-time Seattle Shakespeare Company director Jon Kretzu.

Kretzu’s production begins before the audience enters with a rowdy party populated by infantile young men one might take for frat boys in white tie and tails. There is also a battle-scarred Il Capitano, a black cravated boy, and a malevolent-looking derelict clown. Everyone is in action with one exception who appears to be a kind of servant (a riveting Brandon J. Simmons). He is a monument of stillness and a foreboding counterweight who leaves a lasting impression with hardly a word.

There isn’t much plot to Love’s Labour’s Lost. The King of Navarre (Jason Sanford) and the young men of his court swear oaths to three years of ascetic study without romance. They break those oaths when visited by the princess of France (Samara Lerman) and her attending ladies. Meanwhile there’s some vulgar clowning and academic wordplay by the commoners and Don Armado (David Quicksall).

While the first half of this performance establishes and then breaks the academic oaths the second half is all revels. The conflict is mostly flirtatious teasing and merriment. If there is an antagonist, it is the persistence of youthful indiscretion. In all the frivolity, frat-boy antics drive the young men, taking them nearly over the top before they give action to their yearnings. The anarchic devolution of their revels into baiting and abuse is cut short by the shocking denouement—which is only an emotional shock and overtly predictable as plot. These young men refuse to mature until forced to it.

While Stuart stands out boldly the rest of the cast does fine work as well including Donna Wood who appears to be reprising her role from last year’s Seattle Shakes production of As You Like It. Though that show’s Audrey had far more to say than does this show’s Jaquenetta, Wood owns the type in both instances.

David Quicksall makes Don Adriano de Armado surprisingly likable, playing up his vulnerability to deflate a potentially grating arrogance. The Spaniard winds up falling into the vein of Sir Toby Belch and Falstaff.

Mike Dooly goes more flat-out commedia with his Costard. Dooly takes this play’s most overt clown to the dangerous territory of Harpo Marx with a leer replacing Harpo’s relatively innocent smile. For him life is sex, wine, food, sleep, and casual violence, and yet he is irresistible.

The technical work is excellent across the board with lights, set, and sound all heightened without distracting, and costumes that hew to both character and the 1920s setting. Kretzu pushes the limits a bit with physical and prop bits that start to feel gimmicky but the gimmicks are a phase on the way to stratosphere of either silliness or mayhem. Marleigh Driscoll’s props are key in these achievements with a collection of period oddities that tug the staging into focus.

Kretzu counters the antics with a sudden gut-punching turn to darkness that leaves the whole theatre suspended. That balance fits this comedy, as it ends with only the promise of still-distant nuptials. Thankfully audience satisfaction and lightened hearts are immediate and guaranteed.