The Speakeasy: Age of
Scofflaws
Bennett Fisher & Nick A. Olivero
David Gluck, Geoffrey N. Libby & Nick A. Olivero,
Producers
The Speakeasy, In Association with Boxcar Theatre
Em Lee Reaves |
And in San Francisco ninety-two years later, merry revelers
show up in back alleys, give a secret password, and then make their way to a unknown
location somewhere on the border of North Beach and Chinatown to find Joe’s
Clock shop and enter through a grandfather clock into the underground world of
The Palace Theatre. Women dressed in
flapper dresses decorated with feathers and flowers, beads and rhinestones, and
plenty of glitter and fringe and men donning suspenders and spats, gartered
sleeves, and lots of black attire all have arrived for The Speakeasy’s latest
version of Roaring Twenties fun, the 1927-dated version now entitled Age of Scofflaws.
As each person enters a darkened hallway richly decorated in
reds, each carries an official “Treasury Department, U.S. Internal Revenue Prescription,”
with all that ails to be cured with “one pint whiskey, one tablespoon every four
hours.” The revelers’ three-plus-hour
evening begins either in a large multi-level nightclub; a bustling, crowded
casino; or a bar with piano playing and drinks flowing among the many tables’
inhabitants. In fact, drinking the
offered exotic drinks is close to a requirement and will play a big part in the
continued enjoyment of the evening as merrymakers begin to roam at will among
the several rooms and many hallways, nooks, and crannies in this underground
world of “illicit” jollity.
With over twenty-five actors, musicians numbering seven, and
a script purportedly of 1500 pages, The
Speakeasy: Age of Scofflaws – written by Bennett Fisher and Nick A. Olivero
as were the 2014 premiere and the 2016 remount that has run continuously ever
since – is an incredible accomplishment for the production’s not one, but three directors (Michael French, Leah
Gardner, and Nick A. Olivero).
Throughout the night, not only are there ongoing stage shows of
comedians, singers, and dancers, there are also multiple, ongoing “happenings”
and interactions occurring at any given moment, in any given setting. With most of the paying guests dressed in
their own costumes, it is often a surprise that the period-attired person
standing or sitting nearby suddenly is interrupting the evening with drunken
slurs, angrily throwing cards at the Blackjack dealer, or accusing a waitress
of infidelity.
Sal (Mark Nassar) with Two Cast Members |
Partygoers have the choice of staying mostly in one place to
see what develops in that venue, roaming aimlessly around and running into
‘action’ along the way, or following faithfully a particular character room to
room (one probably named right out of The
Untouchables with a nomenclature like Vinnie, Sal, Mickey or Velma, Viola,
Virginia). The result, as touted by the
company itself, is that each partyer is bound to experience a very different
evening from all others. To experience
all the different storylines, characters, and dramas/comedies, a number of
visits, we are told, are necessary.
While there is not an overall, evident plot for the evening,
by chance or by purposeful following, individual storylines do begin to
develop. In our visit, a young, dapperly
dressed man named Eugene (Luke Myers) makes it past a scrutinizing Vinnie (Tom
Osborne) at the always locked door with a sliding slit for peering out. Eugene wanders into the bar with eyes wide as
half-dollars and a tentative, scared look all about him, only to be noticed and
encouraged to have his first-ever drink by the loud, gregarious storyteller,
Tom (Kevin Copps) who has been keeping us all entertained in between the
honky-tonk piano playing of Elyse Weakley.
As Eugene spills all his worst fears of what will happen if he takes
that first shot of gin, lights come down; and a bar-filling dream scene occurs
down the center aisle, populated by everyone from gangsters to a teatotaler
crusader to a drunken woman Dorothy (Cecilia Palmtag) who has already been
pulled down from wanting to dance on amiable bartender Mac’s (Maurice Williams)
bar. Eugene does take that first drink,
and his decreased inhibitions lead him to an evening he probably never expected
to happen upon entering.
Totally by chance, my hubby and I get to witness further
chapters of Eugene’s evening, including a scene as we were passing through a
large hallway full of plush couches -- one on which we sat, soon to be joined
by Eugene and another young man who evidently works in the casino, Clyde
(Robert Kittler). The initial attraction
between the two evidently occurred at a time we were not in the casino, but the
scene between the two hesitant wanna-be lovers that plays out around us (with
suddenly piped in music and highlighted, special lighting) is nothing short of
romantically beautiful and moving – especially considering the time is
1927. As it turns out, there is another
who has been that night attracted to Eugene (Leland, Liam Callister), who after
a few too many is now voicing loudly his feeling betrayed (earlier threads of
the story we have also missed). Lucky
for us, a final chapter of Eugene’s story will occur as the evening winds down;
and we are in the right place at the right time.
And Eugene’s is just one of many threaded tales, others of
which we happen to see glimpses; others, we probably never saw at all. But being at The Speakeasy is not always just
a passive experience. When I arrived,
the glad-handed boss and owner, Sal (Kevin Copps) greeted me as if I were an
old friend, kibitzing and hugging me with both friendliness and a certain
reverence. Later in the evening as I was
enjoying the jazz singing and soft-tap dance of Roland’s (Dedrick Weathersby)
“Harlem Strutters’ Ball,” a serious-looking dude in black suit came to get me
and took me (alone) to Sal’s office.
Calling me Giuseppe and identifying me as the local, honored consigliore,
I am asked to give advice what to do about the Lorenzo Brothers, who that
evening have intercepted Sal’s truck-load of smuggled alcohol and have sent to
Sal in a wooden box the driver’s thumb (which I unfortunately get to see as
proof). Pulling out my best Sicilian
self, I played into the scene as best I could (“Get the sons-of-bitches”) and
received his lifelong allegiance and thanks (and another big Italian hug). I later discovered the scene that played out
was being watched through a two-way mirror by partyers who picked up old phone
receivers to listen to it all.
And I am sure such scenes and other like them occurred all night
in this office, in the dance line’s dressing room (another venue with a hidden
mirror for all us passing voyeurs), or in corners and couches tucked away
throughout the large venue. Just as most
of us in attendance are boozing it up during the evening, many of the actors’
characters are likewise as part of their storyline having a few too many. As the third hour of the evening hits, the
noise level everywhere increases (not from us, since we as ticketholders have
been explicitly warned to “speak easy” and only in whispers to order more
drinks).
One example is the final appearance of nightclub and bar
singer, Velma Louise Cole (Em Lee Reaves), a deep, smoky voiced chanteuse who
in elegant art-deco look has entertained us throughout the night with songs of
the era, including “Some of These Days” and “I Love a Piano.” But when she slightly stumbles to the stage
and even whisks the piano player away, she false-starts several love songs
before complaining with a slur, “Why do I have to sing about love all the
time?” Em Lee Reaves’ Velma then stuns
us all, ‘passing out’ with a fall off the stage that is difficult not to
believe she could do so without ending up in the hospital.
The scores -- if not hundreds -- of planned, scripted
interactions and events such as the few noted here that fill the evening are
supported by a creative team where few flaws are ever evident. Somehow, lights dim, focus, shift, and go
full-lit at just the right moments to focus on specific and general actions and
events in multiple locations at the same time – all thanks to the outstanding
design of Allen Willner, Gabe Maxson, and Brad Peterson. The same occurs for sound effects and
piped-in music as designed by one of my personal Bay Area favorites, Matthew
Stines.
Ralph Hoy’s multitude of costumes are eye-popping and a show
unto themselves as scantily clad flappers dance in beads and spangles; gangster
types roam around in their black suits and studded collar pins; and bar patrons
arrive with their life stories highly evident by just the manner of period
clothes they wear. The wonderfully
designed interiors, secret entrances through the likes of paintings and
bookshelves, and the authenticity of everything from lamps to microphones to
phones are the artistic results of scenic designers Geoffrey Libby and Nick A.
Olivero as well as props designer, Kyle Nitchy.
Choreographers Elizabeth Etler and Kimberly Lester ensure high-kick
dance lines, Charleston swinging dancers on tables, and soft-shoe interludes
are all well-executed. Somehow, the
three directors have the ability to get the right characters to the right spots
time and again throughout the three hours and to have each sudden entrance seem
totally spontaneous and each interaction to be one that has no script, but of
course does. Finally, Musical Director Joe
Wilcockson has planned the era’s live music that permeates through a five-piece
band in the nightclub and a piano player and various singers in the bar area.
The Speakeasy is
one of several ‘only in San Francisco’ events that we residents are so lucky to
be able to attend and to offer to take our out-of-town guests. The recently premiered Age of Scofflaws retains all the fun and fascination of the
original show and many of the same, core characters; but the new storylines,
actors, and songs to match the new timeline of May 21, 1927, beg a deserved,
return visit by past patrons and welcome a continual parade of new revelers to
an evening of laughs, surprise, musical enjoyment, and of course, the forbidden
booze.
Rating: 5 E
The Speakeasy: Age of
Scofflaws continues in a secret venue somewhere near Chinatown and North
Beach in San Francisco. Appointments can
be scheduled at the present time through July 27, 2019 online for 8 p.m.
Thursdays through Saturdays at http://www.thespeakeasysf.com.
Photos: The Speakeasy
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