Cusetonight
Theater
Review: Steve Martin’s ‘The Underpants’ at Syracuse Stage
October 24, 2015 Tom Magnarelli
Guten Tag! Syracuse Stage‘s “The Underpants” written by comedian Steve Martin in 2002 and adapted from the 1910 play “Die Hose” (The Trousers) by Carl Sterheim opens the stage’s 2015-16 season with a fun, situational comedy of extramarital affair exploration. Martin’s physical comedy style permeates the play with big, bold, unadulterated, slapstick gestures, puns and stereotypes. It’s an entertaining night out that you immediately know, when you enter the theater, can’t be taken too seriously, yet actually has a genuinely warm and somewhat enduring message at the end.
Taking place in Dusseldorf, Germany in 1910, the play opens with Theo (Mark David Watson), a loud and proud, burly German government pencil-pusher yelling at his wife Louise (Marianna McClellan) for an embarrassing accident she had in public. Trying to get a better glimpse at the king as he’s passing through, she stands on a chair to get a better look, cheers, and her underpants drop. Thus, she becomes quite popular, and the room she and Theo are trying to rent out has no shortage of new applicants.
There are classic Steve Martin lines.
“The whole thing lasted two seconds,” Louise says.
“Haven’t you heard? Time is relative,” Theo retorts holding up a newspaper.
“I pulled them up,” Louise says.
“Please, don’t be graphic,” Theo replies.
That smart, witty humor drives the play. One of the room applicants is Versati (Daniel Passer), a flamboyant, romantic poet that Louise falls for because her husband is such a stiff. Versati is Steve Martin as Don Quixote who enters a room by flinging his hat and coat anywhere. Another character, Cohen (Michael Brian Dunn), is the Jewish stereotype who claims he’s not Jewish (remember this is Germany in 1910). Cohen is constantly complaining or getting sick to Theo’s bemusement.
The set (William Bloodgood) was impressive for it being a modest apartment. Sausages go into the fabulously old-fashioned oven and come out smoking. Large doors and walls are complimented with rectangular windows above them, which add a thoughtful touch.
Theo steals the show with his bombastic voice that fills the theater. None of the actors have microphones. Hopefully he can maintain that level for the run of the show. He captures your attention. Louise holds her own with believable whimsy and she’s light on her feet, gliding across the stage as she frantically makes her plans. Gertrude (Sabrina Profitt), the nosy neighbor, steals a few scenes with jokes about her age and her encouragement of Louise’s affair.
One criticism is that you may sometimes miss a joke or two because of zee German accents zat zee actors speak with but it’s necessary and pretty funny. What makes the show more than just funny is its message of romanticism; the importance of being wooed.
It’s like Theo says, “What are breasts? Harmless, utilitarian lumps of flesh, but you squeeze them into a sweater and mountains move.”
This audience was certainly moved. Running from Oct. 21 – Nov. 8.
Theater
Review: Steve Martin’s ‘The Underpants’ at Syracuse Stage
October 24, 2015 Tom Magnarelli
Guten Tag! Syracuse Stage‘s “The Underpants” written by comedian Steve Martin in 2002 and adapted from the 1910 play “Die Hose” (The Trousers) by Carl Sterheim opens the stage’s 2015-16 season with a fun, situational comedy of extramarital affair exploration. Martin’s physical comedy style permeates the play with big, bold, unadulterated, slapstick gestures, puns and stereotypes. It’s an entertaining night out that you immediately know, when you enter the theater, can’t be taken too seriously, yet actually has a genuinely warm and somewhat enduring message at the end.
Taking place in Dusseldorf, Germany in 1910, the play opens with Theo (Mark David Watson), a loud and proud, burly German government pencil-pusher yelling at his wife Louise (Marianna McClellan) for an embarrassing accident she had in public. Trying to get a better glimpse at the king as he’s passing through, she stands on a chair to get a better look, cheers, and her underpants drop. Thus, she becomes quite popular, and the room she and Theo are trying to rent out has no shortage of new applicants.
There are classic Steve Martin lines.
“The whole thing lasted two seconds,” Louise says.
“Haven’t you heard? Time is relative,” Theo retorts holding up a newspaper.
“I pulled them up,” Louise says.
“Please, don’t be graphic,” Theo replies.
That smart, witty humor drives the play. One of the room applicants is Versati (Daniel Passer), a flamboyant, romantic poet that Louise falls for because her husband is such a stiff. Versati is Steve Martin as Don Quixote who enters a room by flinging his hat and coat anywhere. Another character, Cohen (Michael Brian Dunn), is the Jewish stereotype who claims he’s not Jewish (remember this is Germany in 1910). Cohen is constantly complaining or getting sick to Theo’s bemusement.
The set (William Bloodgood) was impressive for it being a modest apartment. Sausages go into the fabulously old-fashioned oven and come out smoking. Large doors and walls are complimented with rectangular windows above them, which add a thoughtful touch.
Theo steals the show with his bombastic voice that fills the theater. None of the actors have microphones. Hopefully he can maintain that level for the run of the show. He captures your attention. Louise holds her own with believable whimsy and she’s light on her feet, gliding across the stage as she frantically makes her plans. Gertrude (Sabrina Profitt), the nosy neighbor, steals a few scenes with jokes about her age and her encouragement of Louise’s affair.
One criticism is that you may sometimes miss a joke or two because of zee German accents zat zee actors speak with but it’s necessary and pretty funny. What makes the show more than just funny is its message of romanticism; the importance of being wooed.
It’s like Theo says, “What are breasts? Harmless, utilitarian lumps of flesh, but you squeeze them into a sweater and mountains move.”
This audience was certainly moved. Running from Oct. 21 – Nov. 8.
Syracuse Stage opens with Steve Martin's social satire (Review)
The Underpants
The characters of "The Underpants" are bookended by German beer hall girls. From left to right are Klinglehoff (Tuck Milligan), Frank Versati (Daniel Passer), Gertrude Deuter (Sabrina Profitt), Louise Maske (Marianna McClellan), Theo Maske (Mark David Watson) and Bnjamin Cohen (Michael Brian Dunn). Photo by Michael Davis.
By Tony Curulla | Contributing writer The Post-Standard
on October 24, 2015 at 3:55 PM, updated October 24, 2015 at 3:56 PM
Syracuse Stage opens its 43rd season with a wild comedy, filtered through the inimitable mind of Steve Martin. "The Underpants" is Martin's adaptation of a German Expressionist farce, "The Bloomers", by Carl Sternheim (1878-1942), who wrote the play in 1911. At the time, Sternheim was considered to be a master of stylized comedy, and given what we've seen of so much of Martin's comedy over several decades, it's no wonder that he might be drawn to a property of this sort for adapting purposes.
Basically, if you're familiar with Steve Martin's brand of humor, you'll appreciate where this one is going, despite its very foreign environs of Dusseldorf, Germany, circa 1911. In fact, the whole play has such a "Martinesque" quirkiness to it that I imagined that all six characters, plus the king (presumably Kaiser Wilhelm II), could have been played to great advantage by Martin himself.
Directed by Bill Fennelly, this exceptionally skilled ensemble of Michael Brian Dunn (Ben Cohen), Marianna McClellan (Louise Maske), Tuck Milligan (Klingelhoff), Daniel Passer (Versati, the King), Sabrina Profitt (Gertrude Deuter), and Mark David Watson (Theo Maske) demonstrates the kind of (seemingly) off-the cuff versatility necessary to bring off the zaniness in this out-of-sync series of situations.
Louise, the wife of proud, middle-level clerk Theo, experiences a wardrobe malfunction while watching a passing parade. In an effort to get a better view while waving at the passing king, Louise's underpants manage to slip down around her ankles as she stretches for greater height. Convinced that no one saw the act ("Everybody was looking at the king, not at me.") she is somewhat nonchalant about the situation as she explains it to her husband, who goes off the wall, fearing ridicule, embarrassment, and worse yet, possibly getting fired from his job. This situation sets off a series of encounters among characters who have been drawn to the Maske household due to the parade proceedings.
Chief among the visitors is Versati, a roguish sort with a quick tongue, fancy manners, and a desire to woo the lady who had put on quite the display at the parade. Passer's character is fun to watch as he devises a series of disingenuous machinations to attain his rather salacious purposes.
Dunn and Milligan, as Cohen and Klingelhoff, respectively, are bewildered, older men who respond to an advertisement to rent a room in the Maske home, and plunge into the morass of confusion created around the underpants incident that is further exacerbated by Theo's fears of no longer being a member of the proud middle class.
I'm a government clerk; I blend in! --Theo Maske
Profitt's Gertrude, a nosy neighbor, is a joy to watch as she manipulates much of the confusion, while often tipping off the audience with subtle facial expression and staccato physicality.
Played upon a single, very well-ordered set design by William Bloodgood, the characters (like in most uproarious farces), enter and exit by way of several doors leading to hallways and bedrooms, and scene changes are cued by a bevy of German folk dancers who bounce about the stage to the accompaniment of Teutonic dance music, hand clapping, flag waving, and even, yes, yodeling!
Among the more interesting aspects of the piece is the unsubtle social satire that's hardly buried beneath the chaos, quick-witted commentary, numerous, somewhat naughty, double entendres, and the well-directed and executed physical comedy that's filled with sight gags and even comic sexual simulations.
It's often been said that good tragedy is "easier" to execute than good comedy, and I think that's because tragedy is more universal, and comedy, or comic tastes, are more individual. I thought about those ideas as I witnessed a theater full of out-and-out laughter as I sat admiring the cleverness of the situations and the comic sensibilities and movements of the actors that prompted my few smirks and smiles.
As a side thought, once a "one-act" piece goes over the 90-minute length, I think an intermission is in order someplace earlier. I realize that the writing and the action dictate "natural" breaks, however, one hour and fifty minutes is a very long sitting for many patrons to retain concentration.
The characters of "The Underpants" are bookended by German beer hall girls. From left to right are Klinglehoff (Tuck Milligan), Frank Versati (Daniel Passer), Gertrude Deuter (Sabrina Profitt), Louise Maske (Marianna McClellan), Theo Maske (Mark David Watson) and Bnjamin Cohen (Michael Brian Dunn). Photo by Michael Davis.
By Tony Curulla | Contributing writer The Post-Standard
on October 24, 2015 at 3:55 PM, updated October 24, 2015 at 3:56 PM
Syracuse Stage opens its 43rd season with a wild comedy, filtered through the inimitable mind of Steve Martin. "The Underpants" is Martin's adaptation of a German Expressionist farce, "The Bloomers", by Carl Sternheim (1878-1942), who wrote the play in 1911. At the time, Sternheim was considered to be a master of stylized comedy, and given what we've seen of so much of Martin's comedy over several decades, it's no wonder that he might be drawn to a property of this sort for adapting purposes.
Basically, if you're familiar with Steve Martin's brand of humor, you'll appreciate where this one is going, despite its very foreign environs of Dusseldorf, Germany, circa 1911. In fact, the whole play has such a "Martinesque" quirkiness to it that I imagined that all six characters, plus the king (presumably Kaiser Wilhelm II), could have been played to great advantage by Martin himself.
Directed by Bill Fennelly, this exceptionally skilled ensemble of Michael Brian Dunn (Ben Cohen), Marianna McClellan (Louise Maske), Tuck Milligan (Klingelhoff), Daniel Passer (Versati, the King), Sabrina Profitt (Gertrude Deuter), and Mark David Watson (Theo Maske) demonstrates the kind of (seemingly) off-the cuff versatility necessary to bring off the zaniness in this out-of-sync series of situations.
Louise, the wife of proud, middle-level clerk Theo, experiences a wardrobe malfunction while watching a passing parade. In an effort to get a better view while waving at the passing king, Louise's underpants manage to slip down around her ankles as she stretches for greater height. Convinced that no one saw the act ("Everybody was looking at the king, not at me.") she is somewhat nonchalant about the situation as she explains it to her husband, who goes off the wall, fearing ridicule, embarrassment, and worse yet, possibly getting fired from his job. This situation sets off a series of encounters among characters who have been drawn to the Maske household due to the parade proceedings.
Chief among the visitors is Versati, a roguish sort with a quick tongue, fancy manners, and a desire to woo the lady who had put on quite the display at the parade. Passer's character is fun to watch as he devises a series of disingenuous machinations to attain his rather salacious purposes.
Dunn and Milligan, as Cohen and Klingelhoff, respectively, are bewildered, older men who respond to an advertisement to rent a room in the Maske home, and plunge into the morass of confusion created around the underpants incident that is further exacerbated by Theo's fears of no longer being a member of the proud middle class.
I'm a government clerk; I blend in! --Theo Maske
Profitt's Gertrude, a nosy neighbor, is a joy to watch as she manipulates much of the confusion, while often tipping off the audience with subtle facial expression and staccato physicality.
Played upon a single, very well-ordered set design by William Bloodgood, the characters (like in most uproarious farces), enter and exit by way of several doors leading to hallways and bedrooms, and scene changes are cued by a bevy of German folk dancers who bounce about the stage to the accompaniment of Teutonic dance music, hand clapping, flag waving, and even, yes, yodeling!
Among the more interesting aspects of the piece is the unsubtle social satire that's hardly buried beneath the chaos, quick-witted commentary, numerous, somewhat naughty, double entendres, and the well-directed and executed physical comedy that's filled with sight gags and even comic sexual simulations.
It's often been said that good tragedy is "easier" to execute than good comedy, and I think that's because tragedy is more universal, and comedy, or comic tastes, are more individual. I thought about those ideas as I witnessed a theater full of out-and-out laughter as I sat admiring the cleverness of the situations and the comic sensibilities and movements of the actors that prompted my few smirks and smiles.
As a side thought, once a "one-act" piece goes over the 90-minute length, I think an intermission is in order someplace earlier. I realize that the writing and the action dictate "natural" breaks, however, one hour and fifty minutes is a very long sitting for many patrons to retain concentration.