TeenTix Blog Reviews

Michael Schur in Conversation at Seattle Arts & Lectures explores the intersection of comedy, philosophy, regret, and hope. Although it is not a narrative experience, Schur’s humorous anecdotes and philosophical ramblings are as cohesive and entertaining as most stand-up comedy sets.

Schur is one of the brilliant minds behind many popular modern sitcoms, including The Office (U.S.), Parks and Recreation, and The Good Place. He also served as president of the Harvard Lampoon and led Weekend Update at Saturday Night Live. George Meyer, a former writer of The Simpsons, joins Schur to facilitate the dialogue. If you were wondering, yes, this is what non-denominational comedy heaven looks like. Michael Shur in Michael Shur in Conversation. Photo by Libby Lewis Photography.

The Mystery of Irma Vep, written by Charles Ludlam and performed by Intiman Theatre, centers on the Mandacrest estate in some nondescript Victorian setting, haunted by the recently-passed ghost of resident Lord Edgar’s former mistress as he attempts to move on with his second wife Lady Enid. There are mummies, werewolves, mistaken identities, and plenty of campy comedy to go around as only two actors perform a series of quick costume changes to portray the colorful cast of characters.

From a technical standpoint, the performers—Jesse Calixto and Helen Roundhill—pulled off the production near-flawlessly. The only unintentional slips I could discern were a few misalignments with sound effects and a brief hesitation in dialogue, both of which I qualify as the lowest form of nitpicking possible for a performance of any kind. In every other sense the night ran flawlessly as far as I could tell, the advertised 35 quick costume changes working seamlessly as characters deftly left and entered stages with mere seconds (and often, off-stage line deliveries) to do brisk wardrobe switch-ups. I expected to keenly notice the fact that only two characters could share the stage at once, but I scarcely considered that fact, a testament to the playwriting and both actors’ nearly flawless deliveries. Helen Roundhill in The Mystery of Irma Vep presented by Intiman Theatre. Photo by Joe Moore.

Journalism has a natural affinity to the arts. Plays and movies require less expertise to analyze without being questioned by experts—that is, you don’t need a degree in film studies to write a good article on The Empire Strikes Back. Hyper-specialized tech fields like espionage and intelligence politics are the very opposite. Where art is public, intelligence is private, and many people have little to no understanding about how critical agencies like the CIA or FBI work.

Here is where people like Amy Zegart come in. Her book Spies, Lies, and Algorithms covers intelligence agencies and their related fields in a human, comprehensible light, and in Town Hall’s The History and Future of Espionage in the U.S., she talks with KUOW executive producer and Town Hall regular Ross Reynolds about why that coverage is so important.

In the two-person domestic drama Monsters of the American Cinema, ArtsWest invites audiences to confront the most difficult of demons: those in our own homes. Monsters follows the story of Remy Washington, a Black man who takes care of his dead husband’s straight, white teenage son, Pup. They bond through a shared love of classic monster movies, but tensions arise when Remy learns that Pup bullies a gay teen at his school, and frequently uses the n-word around his friends. Has Remy raised a monster? Meanwhile, Pup’s childhood nightmares of ghosts and monsters return with increased severity.

The 2021-2022 season When We Wake was curated by a cohort of ArtsWest leaders and Associate Artists over the course of eight months, focusing on themes of community, collective healing, and the power of storytelling. Unlike the first show of the season, We’ve Battled Monsters Before, which primarily explored cultural heritage through the lens of joy, Monsters of the American Cinema leaves audiences intentionally uncomfortable, contributing a more disturbing perspective to the discussion of identity prompted by the former.

The wonderful thing about pessimism is that even if something bad happens, at least you can say, “I was right!”. In 2021, many foolish optimists thought the pandemic was nearly over. Consequently, our shared desperation as we celebrated the first pandemic-aversary, shaped much of the art that was created, leading to some of the most vulnerable, unique stand-up specials of all time.

“What? Stand-up comedy? That’s not art,” says a beret-clad man after buying a canvas some paint fell on for 72 million dollars. I hate to break it to you, buddy, but one of the fundamentals of art is that we don’t get to decide what it is or isn’t. Like all other art, stand-up communicates fresh perspectives through abstract presentation, finding entertainment value in its thoughtfulness. With streaming services such as Netflix on the rise, the medium is currently more accessible than ever. However, since it was not initially intended to be experienced digitally, artists have new constraints and creative opportunities.

Hotter Than Egypt, written by Yussef El Guindi and directed by John Langs, is a captivating play that you will be increasingly drawn into as the story unfolds. I was lucky enough to witness the world premiere at A Contemporary Theater (ACT), eleven years after El Guindi began Hotter Than Egypt during the Egyptian Revolution. The play follows two separate couples with seemingly little in common, as their lives become more and more intertwined. The plot plays on common tropes such as American ignorance to other cultures, and middle aged couples who have lost the spark in their relationship. The play has an intimate feeling throughout, taking unexpected and original turns while expressing enlightening commentary on broken marriages and power dynamics. This play declared it’s excellence to me through well developed characters, fabulous set design, riveting and topical social commentary.

The play follows Jean (Jen Taylor) and Paul (Paul Morgan Stetler), a white American couple from Wisconsin, on their travels in Cairo. They leave their college age children behind to embark on a trip to celebrate their 24th wedding anniversary. It is revealed later that their trip was planned to coincide with Paul’s work trip. While in Cairo, long-buried troubles within their marriage begin to surface as they interact with recently engaged Egyptian tour guides, Maha (Naseem Etemad) and Sief (Wasim No’mani). They soon find that working through their issues will not be easy, as the couples’ lives become increasingly complicated. Ahmad Kamal’s role as a boat driver, museum guard and door person really bring the setting to life. His range pulls the story together and allows for the play to feel more dimensional adding in plots that would otherwise be difficult to explore with only the two couples.

The stage opens to a quaint, wooden room. There is nothing but a small bookshelf and desk to the right, and to the left, a bare bench and coat hanger. An American flag stands basked in the bright glow of a spotlight. Littered about the theatre, there are signs that read: “We demand equal rights now!”, “Jim Crow must go!”, “We demand voting rights now!”, and “In freedom we are born, in freedom we must live!”.

Fannie: The Music and Life of Fannie Lou Hamer begins with Fannie Lou Hamer—usually played by E. Faye Butler, but for that afternoon’s show by Shaunyce Omar—walking onto the stage to speak at a podium. Hamer’s voice is loud and captivating as she begins her retelling of attempting and failing to vote when suddenly, the podium is pulled away. President Lyndon B. Johnson has ordered a spontaneous conference at the White House solely to take away the focus from Hamer’s testimony. This scene, simple as it may be, makes you angry on Hamer’s behalf and is our first taste of the heart-wrenching injustices that will take place later on.

Following a post-lockdown debut of Babette’s Feast, Taproot Theatre has hit the ground running in 2022 with an excellent rendition of the otherwise mediocre farce See How They Run. The show’s premise relies on the classic comedic trope of mistaken identities, and the resulting tomfoolery isn’t any more inventive. However, playwright Philip King’s intricate plotting and Taproot’s excellent cast make for a night of entertaining shenanigans, albeit nothing more.

The play follows Penelope, a vicar’s wife, as she attempts to have a night on the town with an old friend of hers, Corporal Clive Winton, while her husband is away. However, her foolproof plan is interrupted when a Russian spy is discovered to be on the loose.Nathan Brockett, Miranda Antoinette, and Nathan Tenenbaum in See How They Run at Taproot Theatre. Photo by Robert Wade.

“Banned! Witch Hunt,” is the first of a series of film talks at SIFF focussing on banned films and censorship throughout history. This informative two-hour workshop was communicated via a thought-provoking presentation on films banned by the U.S. government under 1920s obscenity laws. Due to COVID-19 precautions, this production was offered in a hybrid model where audience members had the option to participate in-person or view the production online through Zoom.

I engaged through Zoom, and the workshop started promptly. The presentation was effectively presented through a shared screen and the audio was extremely clear. The session was largely divided into three parts: an educational lesson on silent films, an exploration of two silent films, and a Q&A.

In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, many architects were guided by the maxim that “form follows function.” In the early 21st century, based on the success of shows such as Modern Family and Parks and Recreation, many television writers are guided by the maxim that “mockumentaries make money.” While story structure differs from architecture, the symbiotic relationship between the format and content of Bo Burnham’s 2013 sitcom Zach Stone is Gonna Be Famous makes for a triumph in bingeable situational comedy despite the show’s occasional lazy humor.

Zach Stone is a mockumentary series that captures the life of a high school graduate played by Burnham who chooses to use his college fund to hire a film crew to document his life rather than pursuing higher education. Each episode features a zany get-famous-quick scheme that inevitably goes awry, forcing Zach’s friends and family to save him. After one season, MTV canceled the show.

The Teen Editorial Staff teamed up once more to bring to light some different perspectives about the recently released Arcane: League of Legends (2021). Read on to see how anyone can gather enjoyment from this new Netflix series, whether or not you're an avid video game enthusiast. DISHA

Having no interest or experience in video games except for the pesky midnight screaming of my brother in the neighboring room, I was pleasantly surprised by Arcane: League of Legends. The unique animation style with its fresh coloring gives life to the characters; the 2D textures utilized to create the backgrounds of certain scenes contrast brightly with the fleshed-out 3D characters, fabricating a somber mood. The brunt of the storytelling is conveyed through an ethereal narration that harkens to a gruesome yet hopeful past (courtesy of Hailee Steinfeld) and lends to the meaningful themes in Arcane’s narrative. The plot hoists itself on the legs of stories and tropes already told—innocence inevitably corrupted by society’s ruthlessness, lost sisters, warring siblings, a battle for the ages—it’s a tale as old as time, pioneered by predecessors such as Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Dragon Prince. However, the show’s worldbuilding and portrayal of war and society is so bracingly revolting, that it highlights a welcome, adult perspective in animation—mostly afforded by its unapologetic swearing and sexual plotlines.

For the premiere of We’ve Battled Monsters Before, ArtsWest transformed itself into a creative fantasyland reminiscent of the chocolate room in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. However, musical instruments are scattered across the stage rather than oversized candy and while there is no chocolate fountain in sight, a tree composed of fabric and paper towers over the audience. Despite the set’s inherent minimalism, the space bursts with color and creativity, as does the show. Photo by John McLellan

Justin Huertas, the creator of Monsters, was TeenTix’s first-ever Crush of the Month, and for good reason. The talented writer, composer, and performer explores his intersectional identities through musical allegories that entertain and inspire empathy among Seattle audiences. However, this was not always the case—according to a January 2010 interview with TeenTix, Huertas “enjoy[ed] writing plays and songs, but the two didn’t mix well for him when he tried to write a musical.” Based on Monsters, I can assure you that is no longer the case. Photo by John McLellan

Vincent van Gogh’s oil paintings are well known and honored by almost everyone who knows anything about art. It’s well known that his struggles with mental illness impacted his art. In a rented warehouse on Occidental Street, Van Gogh: An Immersive Experience displays art in a way that makes it accessible to a modern audience using digital enhancements to warp his work into a dynamic performance that captivates viewers.

Near the entry, a summary of Van Gogh’s life hangs next to a sculpture of his head. The figure holds a projection of Starry Night that looks as if it’s growing onto the figure. Having a three dimensional Van Gogh head as the canvas for a two dimensional oil painting beautifully displayed the depth behind Starry Night and showed how Van Gogh saw the stars. Though creative and captivating, the display raises the question: Does this display change his intent behind his original creation? Is this an expression of Van Gogh or the current creators of the exhibit? Photo by Dan Swartz for Exhibition Hub & Fever

The winter season brings to mind precious, wonderful memories, and the prospect of making even more. Alternatively, it harkens the mundanity of semi-theatrically unboxing presents for an hour of your day before returning to doing whatever work you had set aside for Winter Break.

However, there is humor to be had in the outlandishly horrible, the “[winter-adjacent holiday] gone wrong” that you’ll always remember either as a sore patch, a laughing point to bring up in holiday-related small talk, or a blank hole in the timeline. This notion of being able to look back and laugh is the basis of Jet City Improv’s Uncle Mike Ruins Christmas, a performance in which actors take audience members’ fondest holiday memories and—through the medium of the titular uncle, played by Mike Murphy—decimate them in ways both insane and inane. I found this concept ripe with comedic potential, and having enjoyed what little experience I had with improv shows, I signed up to check out their performance at West of Lenin.

Book-It Repertory Theatre’s production of Alexandre Dumas père’s The Three Musketeers is better designated as an audiobook than an audio “play.” Book-It’s usual format functions on reinterpreting classic literature for performance while maintaining some tone and style from the original work by incorporating narration. In an audio-only context, Book-It’s elegant style loses its magnetism. The adaptation fails to add something new to Dumas’ original work beyond sound effects and a more contemporary style. And in the swashbuckling world of The Three Musketeers, the audiobook-esque performance falls flat.

Lamar Legend’s adaptation and direction stay true to Dumas’ story. Trick Danneker’s D’Artagnan joins a group of musketeers: “the three inseparables,” Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, played by Porscha Shaw, Nicholas JaPaul Bernard, and Nathaniel Tenenbaum respectively. When his landlord, Bonacieux (John Coons), asks D’Artagnan to find his wife, Constance Bonacieux (Kathy Hsieh), D’Artagnan becomes involved in controversy surrounding the Queen of France (Kate Jaeger) and Duke of Buckingham (Basil Harris). D’Artagnan and the musketeers also meet the femme fatale, Milady de Winter (Kate Jaeger), an agent of Cardinal Richelieu (John Coons). Photo of Trick Danneker by John Ulman

The Future is 0 is an exhilarating night of satirical, refreshing commentary on our current society in the form of a classic game show, hosted by Clay Buff (Claire Buss) and Kat O’Hara (as herself). The show is, in the words of the hosts, “a battle of mental, physical, & psychological challenges” in which three contestants play a variety of absurd games. The contestants spin a wheel to choose the games, which are previewed with hysterical, Adult Swim style animations designed by Nick Shively, who also runs the booth. Subtly, one of the best parts of the show is the retro synth-pop theme music that plays throughout (and I am currently petitioning for its release onto streaming platforms).

Before the games begin, the main host Clay Buff performs her three-minute opening monologue during which an audience member is picked from the crowd to sit in the “Chuckle Throne.” A camera monitors the person's face and will sound an aggressively loud alarm whenever the person isn’t actively smiling and laughing. Besides being a hilariously bizarre intro, this establishes a key part of Clay’s character. Through her need for constant validation and praise and by forcing this audience member to smile and laugh the whole time we see her dictatorial manner. Her take on the classic game show host was eerie and fantastical and had a hypersensitive performative progressiveness that, while a commentary on our “fauxgressive” society, made her character refreshingly new but simultaneously all too familiar.

A string quartet is precisely the kind of musical act you’d expect to see at a place like Town Hall Seattle. Being a converted 20th century church, their Great Hall has a charming feel about it; people file past stained-glass windows, and slide into church pews with the chatter of any other audience. PUBLIQuartet was the string ensemble about to play that night in the Great Hall, with members Curtis Stewart, Jannina Norpoth, Nick Revel, and Hamilton Berry all taking their seats. The contemporary group advertised their sound as “dynamic, genre-bending chamber music,” a claim just as ambitious as their piece selections for the evening, which included an intriguing array of improvisations based on pieces composed by Ornette Coleman, Tina Turner, Alice Coltrane, and Antonín Dvořák. The stage dressing was simple; with only four seats, it lacked anything showy. Yet from the very beginning of PUBLIQuartet’s performance, from the hushed silence right before the first note was drawn, it became evident that they weren't just there for a good time. They were there to say something powerful.

In their first Seattle performance, PUBLIQuartet chose to play pieces from their upcoming album What is American. The work explores issues of identity and belonging in this country, using improvisations of well-known American compositions to expand on the power of music’s diverse history. American born-and-bred genres such as rock, funk, and jazz are used to represent the nuanced title, with genre musicians taking prominent positions in the album’s influences. The group performed renditions of contemporary works by Vijay Iyer, and improvised on Dvořák’s “American” Quartet, a popular chamber music composition influenced by the Indigenous and Black American music Dvořák encountered while in the United States. These compositional choices reflect most heavily the influence of Black music on America’s musical culture as a whole. Photo by Lelaine Foster

With this blend of influences and the added challenge of improvisation, how did PUBLIQuartet connect the dots between seemingly disparate works tied loosely with a label of “American”? It was an incredibly daunting prospect, but PUBLIQuartet surprised me; they made it seem effortless.

Every part of the performance was done masterfully. The group’s selections were tied together with a common thread of artistic reflection, which was accomplished within their improvisations by musically reiterating the similarities between the pieces. They included repeated motifs and rhythmic elements throughout their selections, giving their own commentary on the inspiration behind their reworked source material. By the end, PUBLIQuartet’s selections seemed so well-conceived that I wanted to experience them all over again, just to try to understand them a bit better.

The most magical thing about their compositions was the layered effect. The group balanced musical elements of rhythm, harmony, and melody within their pieces, so there were always several layers of sound, each accomplished with different instruments. In this way, no instrument went to waste—not even a single note. Every moment of the performance was taken up with a perfect blend of the violins, cello, and viola, but never in a way that felt old, repetitive, or dull. The musicians improvised so well with each other that the music never lost its depth, even as the group transitioned between different tones, genres of influence, and techniques. Unorthodox vocal and drumming techniques were layered on top of melodic elements and subtler harmonies, contributing to the distinct impression of PUBLIQuartet’s unique musical identity. Even as the musicians shifted back and forth from atmospheric interpretations of their source material to frenetic and dynamic moments, there was never a dull moment.

PUBLIQuartet’s pure skill and flawless musical layering were not the only impressive aspects of their performance. Their thoughtfulness, passion, and mastery laid heavily upon the audience, and their music lingered with a deep understanding. Alice Coltrane’s music was interpreted with a soulful and somewhat strange spirituality, incorporating both the original artist’s depth and PUBLIQuartet’s unique style. The improvisations on Fats Waller’s Honeysuckle Rose also painted a vivid cityscape with unconventional rhythmic elements. It added a layer of story to the original song, by reimagining it within the context of the life of Madam C.J. Walker, the first female self-made millionaire in America.

PUBLIQuartet's overarching enthusiasm and powerful interpretations tied every exemplary aspect of their performance together. If you closed your eyes as they played, their sound was defined by the fluidity, movement, and dynamism of their composition. PUBLIQuartet’s music was transformative, beautifully atmospheric, effortlessly exciting, and unlike any string quartet I’ve ever heard before. It was a lapse from genre-based confines for the ages.

PUBLIQuartet played at Town Hall Seattle on December 6, 2021. For more information see here.

Lead photo credit: PUBLIQuartet, photo by Lelaine Foster

The TeenTix Newsroom is a group of teen writers led by the Teen Editorial Staff. For each review, Newsroom writers work individually with a teen editor to polish their writing for publication. The Teen Editorial Staff is made up of 6 teens who curate the review portion of the TeenTix blog. More information about the Teen Editorial Staff can be found HERE.

The TeenTix Press Corps promotes critical thinking, communication, and information literacy through criticism and journalism practice for teens. For more information about the Press Corps program see HERE.

Imagine a world where elves are security thugs, Mrs. Claus is a fake old schemer, and detectives and crime bosses suck on candy canes instead of cigars. In a tribute to two familiar genres we’ve all seen before, Seattle Public Theater’s production of Christmastown, written by Wayne Rawley and directed by Rachel Delmar takes classic Christmas characters like elves, reindeer, and jolly Santas and tosses them into a cauldron with film noir tropes, resulting in a hilarious Christmas romp that also examines dark themes with some dismal twists.

The story centers around Nick Holiday, a hard-boiled detective, who narrates the story to the audience as he works through his comedic thoughts aloud. After a mysterious lady elf shows Nick pictures of Santa’s questionable activity, he is thrown into a spiral of fights, escapes, chases, and interrogations with crazy police, reckless and brilliant cab drivers, and shady families that control the holiday. As Nick runs around the City of Christmastown, trying to uncover the truth about Santa, he begins to realize along the way that there are hidden secrets surrounding Big Red that many citizens don’t want to hear. The city's fate hangs in the balance as Nick faces past issues, confronts new ones, and digs deeper into the dark plot that surrounds Santa.

Warm. That was how I felt leaving the Community Spread: How We Faced a Pandemic exhibit at the Wing Luke Museum. After spending a while freaking out about driving on I-90 for the first time, I walked through Capitol Hill, shivering and stuffing my hands in my pockets. Yet, when I pulled open the door to the museum, I was embraced with warm air and excited smiles.

The Wing Luke Museum is in a special spot. It could’ve been built by the Gates Discovery Center, or in Bellevue, but it’s in the International District right near Chinatown. The proximity to the Asian community that the museum honors is an important part of the experience. Walking up to the museum you pass an Asian grocery store, selling fresh dashi stock, durians, and pulled noodles. When I crossed the street, two bundled up elderly Asian women walked past me with arms full of groceries. It’s important that the museum wasn’t built in more developed neighborhoods. The museum isn’t white-washed and doesn’t pander to the desires of those more privileged. The diverse International District neighborhood creates a rich environment for the Wing Luke Museum.

When you walk into Diana Al-Hadid’s Archive of Longings, you are greeted by what appears to be a block of glittering ice—you’ll later learn that this mountain-like sculpture is called “Gradiva”. The thirteen sculptural pieces speak, in the most genuine way, to the different ways that the female identity can present itself. The “block of glittering ice” alludes to the title character from Wilhelm Jensen’s novella Gradiva, who was famously analyzed by psychologist Sigmund Freud. Gradiva became known in the world of surrealist art as “the woman who walks through walls,” and Frued recognized her as a modern mythical figure. Al-Hadid uses this imagery to highlight the elusive nature of desire, to show the viewer how women are perceived, and to call out where that narrative is lacking. She expertly captures the individual stories of women through imagery like that of “Gradiva”. At the same time, she focuses on the body, and how those two facets of identity, the physical presence and the cultivated experience, work together to navigate the world.

Immediately to the right of the exhibit’s entrance, there’s a sculpture of a staircase titled “Moving Target”. On a plaque, Al-Hadid writes that she creates things on a large scale to show that the physical labor it takes to make art is just as important as the mental labor. Perhaps the most striking of these large-scale pieces is the archway called “Smoke Screen” that is built into the wall, where peeled resin drips like icicles. When she blurs the lines between function and beauty—art and architecture—she works to “obscure a single narrative”.