Marie and Rosetta Makes its Long Awaited Appearance at Yellow Tree Theatre and Proves it Was Worth the Wait!

Adair Gilliam and Chaz Shermil Hodges Photo by Alex Clark

Marie and Rosetta, after being postponed last season, finally takes the spotlight at Yellow Tree Theatre, and it was well worth the wait. I have no personal connection to gospel music, but I gained a real appreciation for it, and genuine enjoyment, during the 100 minutes I spent with Adair Gilliam and Chaz Shermil Hodges, who play Sister Rosetta Tharpe and Marie Knight, respectively.

These are perfect roles for both actors, especially Gilliam. I imagine the pool of Twin Cities performers who can handle the intricate guitar work required for this role, while also acting and singing at a high level, is not a large one. But no matter how large that pool might be, I doubt anyone could do it better than Adair Gilliam. Her guitar playing is stunning, her singing remarkable, and her acting equally strong, but she also possesses that intangible quality I can only describe as chemistry with the audience. There’s something in the way she leans into the music, particularly with the guitar in hand, her feel for it, the twinkle in her eye, the smile that spreads across her face as she doesn’t just sing, but communicates the lyrics. It gave me goosebumps, and it will undoubtedly be one of my top theater highlights of 2026, even this early in the year.

Chaz Shermil Hodges is a terrific partner for Gilliam. As Marie, the young protégé Rosetta has taken under her wing, she projects openness and youthful energy, and their vocal performances together are both uplifting and electric.

The story unfolds over their first evening working together, as they rehearse and get to know one another. Interestingly, it takes place in a funeral home. As Black performers traveling the South in the 1940s, their lodging options are limited, so they rely on friends and community connections wherever they go. The women talk about their mothers, the men in their lives, religion, and music, sharing their stories as we come to know them. I found these conversations fascinating, like listening to two people you instantly like open up about themselves. Co-directors Ansa Akyea and Richard Thompson beautifully capture that feeling of connection, the simple act of sitting, talking, and truly listening. It’s something many productions aim for, but few fully achieve.

The show would be worth seeing even without the musical numbers woven throughout, but man, those performances make this one a must-see. Go and swing with Marie and Rosetta which runs through April 19 at Yellow Tree Theatre in Osseo. For more information and tickets, go to https://yellowtreetheatre.com/marie-and-rosetta.

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The Stages of MN YouTube channel is home to the Stages of MN Show. You can watch it by clicking here. Be sure to check out the latest episodes and subscribe so you’ll always know when a new one drops. Not sure you agree with one of my takes? I’m also part of the Twin Cities Theater Bloggers (TCTB), where you can find review roundups from my colleagues and me. Follow us on Facebook at @TwinCitiesTheaterBloggers.

The Welkin Is Riveting From Start To Finish From Frank Theatre Ending Sunday at the Gremlin Theatre

Cast of “The Welkin” Tracey Maloney and Elizabeth Efteland front and center Photo by Tony Nelson

The Welkin continues Frank Theatre’s tradition of producing incredibly thought provoking and relevant work that speaks directly to our world. I had to reschedule this one three times due to some ongoing health issues. I didn’t want to miss it, but by the third reschedule, when I was looking at finally seeing it during the last weekend, that’s usually when I cut my losses and move on to something with more of a run left. Big shout-out to my friend Jill over at Cherry and Spoon, who made sure I knew this was not to be missed. She has never been more right in all the years I’ve known her. This one has TCTB Awards written all over it.

Here’s the thing: it’s now almost midnight on Thursday, and this show closes Sunday. So this is going to be short and sweet, because I have another show tomorrow night, and if I want to give anyone a chance of catching this, I need to publish tonight. And those health issues? Still ongoing. I’m tired. So Frank Theatre, forgive me if this feels a little rushed.

“It’s 1759 in rural England, and the country is awaiting the return of Halley’s Comet. A young woman, accused of murder, is sentenced to death. When she tries to escape the noose by claiming she is pregnant, twelve ordinary women are gathered to decide whether she is telling the truth.”
—Frank Theatre website synopsis

Wendy Knox directs Lucy Kirkwood’s script, which had its U.S. premiere in 2024, making this the first chance for local audiences to experience it. The show runs close to three hours, with a 15-minute intermission, but I swear it feels like two, and a quick two at that. Knox’s great strength is her work with actors. There are 16 performers onstage, and not a single one fails to captivate for even a moment.

My biggest problem with this show is already looming: when I submit my nominees next January, do I just nominate it for Favorite Ensemble in a Drama, or do I also single out individual performances? Elizabeth Efteland as Sally, the accused, and Tracey Maloney as Elizabeth Luke, the local midwife and her chief supporter, both deserve Favorite Performance in a Drama nominations, but do they end up canceling each other out? That’s a problem for next year. The point is: they are both brilliant.

And then, frankly, so is everyone else. That includes Stages of MN favorites like Grace Hillmyer, Suzie Juul, Eva Gemlo, and Wini Froelich, who shows a side of herself you never saw at The Mystery Café. Simply stunning. Even performers with the fewest lines hold your attention completely. There isn’t a wasted moment, not a throwaway line. In fact, there are a couple of subtle, intriguing lines that could easily be missed but leave you questioning what you’ve actually seen. I won’t spoil those moments. This play is so strong that others will undoubtedly produce it, but I doubt they’ll do it as well as Frank.

The remainder of the run, which ends March 29, is nearly sold out. If you can make it, I urge you to act fast and grab one of the remaining tickets. I’ll make it easy, here’s the link to the Frank Theatre website:
https://franktheatre.org/events/the-welkin/

The Stages of MN YouTube channel is home to the weekly Stages of MN Show. You can watch it by clicking here. Be sure to check out the latest episodes and subscribe so you’ll always know when a new one drops. Not sure you agree with one of my takes? I’m also part of the Twin Cities Theater Bloggers (TCTB), where you can find review roundups from my colleagues and me. Follow us on Facebook at @TwinCitiesTheaterBloggers.

Abuelita From Prime Productions Needs More Time To Tell its Characters Stories.

The cast of Abuelita Photo by Dan Norman

Prime Productions closes out its 8th season with the world premiere of ABUELITA, a new play by Nathan Yungerberg. There is a lot of good stuff here, but there also seem to be many threads that don’t really lead anywhere. What this material feels ideally suited for is a TV series. There are seven great characters, and four of them get about one scene in which to shine, when they are clearly interesting enough to hold our interest for dozens. In its present form, it feels like there are three characters too many, or perhaps three who are given stage time that should have gone to others, so that more of them could fully realize their roles in the story.

The play opens with Davia, a 72-year-old white grandmother from Iowa who has moved to Spanish Harlem in the summer of 1993 with her fifteen-year-old mixed-race grandson, Jesús, to expose him to his father’s Puerto Rican culture. They meet the other residents of their apartment building on the stoop when they arrive. Davia and Yvette quickly bond over being grandmothers raising grandchildren who have lost their mothers, getting drunk on some sort of alcohol Yvette smuggled back from her last trip to Puerto Rico. Yvette’s granddaughter, Sonya, and Jesús become friends, and she introduces him to her group, some of whom are gay, as we learn Jesús is as well. Davia, in turn, begins to find companionship with Yvette, her sister Indigo, and Wilfredo, a bongo-playing singer who lives next door.

It’s hard to escape the feeling that many of these interactions play like the first of what should be many scenes, or like the third scene, with the previous two missing. Davia is a great character, but almost every moment with her feels like it needed more room to breathe and develop. I also don’t think the character was helped by Mary Gant’s performance; there were simply too many missed or flubbed lines. There is real potential here, but Gant doesn’t quite convey the nuance the role requires. Or perhaps the issue lies more in the script, which rushes toward “aha!” moments that would land more effectively if the relationships had time to grow and unfold.

There are, however, several very enjoyable performances. Skyler Seiler as Sonya is sassy and fun. King Jackson as Jesús starts out somewhat awkwardly, but that seems to be a deliberate choice that tracks with the character; as he becomes more comfortable in his new environment and freer to be himself, the performance comes alive. Pedro R. Bayon is very good as Wilfredo, though he’s another character who gets one strong scene and little else to do, despite feeling like someone you’d want to follow further. Gabi Del Moral as Yvette is also very good, though her relaxed, fluid performance only highlights Gant’s relative stiffness, and their instant friendship doesn’t quite feel earned. Adlyn Carreras as Indigo has a few line flubs as well, but her swagger and attitude carry her through them more successfully. Like others, Indigo feels like a character with much more story to tell. And since I’ve mentioned everyone else, I should note Elsa Vega Pérez as Niego, who is apparently related to Yvette and Indigo, though it’s not entirely clear how. She has only a few lines in Spanish before disappearing for a stretch and then briefly reappearing. She’s good, but likely the first character to cut if tightening the piece.

Ultimately, I’d happily watch these characters for 10 or 12 hours a year. If this play were the first season of a TV series, the ending we see here would probably land around episode six. It’s not that the play is bad, it’s one of those cases where you can clearly see its potential to be something more, and it’s hard not to focus on that. Most plays are easy to take as they are: good, bad, or somewhere in between. But every once in a while, you encounter something that so clearly should be, not different, just more. These characters don’t need better writing; they simply deserve more of it.

ABUELITA runs through March 29th at the Capri Theater in Minneapolis. For More information and to purchase tickets go to https://www.primeprods.org/abuelita

The Importance of Being Earnest Reminds of the Importance of a Little Silliness at Lakeshore Players

Oscar Wilde was perhaps the greatest wit of the 19th century, and The Importance of Being Earnest is the perfect showcase of his genius. Unlike the comedies of William Shakespeare, Wilde’s play makes no claim to profound insights into human nature. It pokes fun at pomposity and the upper class’s detachment from reality, to be sure, but its greatest achievement is much simpler: it is hilariously entertaining. That, and Wilde’s innate mastery of the English language. It truly is a marvelous script: very smart, very funny, and very, very silly.

It is also one of those rare plays from the 1800s that needs no modernization to make it accessible. There’s no need for conceptual updates, explanatory framing, or footnotes aimed at the audience. Wilde’s language and comic structure still land perfectly well on their own. As an avowed anglophile and connoisseur of British humor, his work has always hit the sweet spot for me, and Earnest remains one of the purest examples of how well that style of comedy can work.

The play, which premiered in 1895, centers on two members of the idle upper class: Jack Worthing and Algernon Moncrieff, both of whom make use of aliases in order to get out of obligations and do whatever they please. Jack has created a younger brother named Earnest, which he uses as an excuse to leave his home in the country, where he lives with his ward, the 18-year-old Cecily, and go to London to live a carefree and pleasure centered life as his imaginary brother. Algernon has invented an invalid friend named Bunbury, whom he uses to escape dinners with his aunt, Lady Bracknell, under the excuse of being called to Bunbury’s sickbed.

Jack has fallen in love with Lady Bracknell’s daughter Gwendolen, and she with him. But Lady Bracknell will not allow the engagement due to Jack’s not knowing where he came from, having been discovered in a handbag as an infant in Victoria Station. Algernon, thinking Jack will be in London through the weekend and having discovered his country address, and the existence of the young ward Cecily, arrives at Jack’s country home pretending to be his younger brother Earnest. Cecily and Algernon immediately fall in love.

When Jack returns early to inform his household of the death of his brother Earnest, he’s surprised to find that Earnest has apparently moved into the bedroom next to his. The final ingredient comes when both men, who have wooed under the name Earnest, discover that the women they love insist they could only ever love a man named Earnest, which neither of them actually is. Hilarity ensues, and one can’t help suspecting that this play must have served as a template for half the books P. G. Wodehouse would later write.

Director Craig Johnson’s production at Lakeshore Players Theatre in White Bear Lake features a cast as nimble of foot as they are of tobgue. They bring a physicality to their roles that heightens the already deliciously ludicrous tone.

Cody Carlson plays Jack, the straight man, at least compared to Lewis Youngren’s Algernon. Both play their roles superbly. They have a wonderful scene where they argue while each tries to claim the muffin tray for himself. Skye Stuempert plays Gwendolen and Aerin O’Malley plays Cecily, who verbally spar over their mistaken belief that they are both engaged to Earnest. They play the cattiness of romantic rivals perfectly. Mary Cutler is a delight as the formidable Lady Bracknell, deliciously selling the leaps of logic and nonsensical rationale behind her firmly held beliefs, which conveniently change depending on her immediate goal.

Michael Garry plays both Algernon’s manservant in town and Jack’s servant in the country. The former feels like a template for Wodehouse’s Jeeves, and Garry captures that unflappable, dry delivery perfectly.

This is a great opportunity to see one of the great comedic plays brought to the stage by a cast that clearly knows how to make the laughs land. I always tell folks that when a classic like this comes around, make sure you see it. Plays are meant to be experienced live, and some of these classics don’t come around nearly as often as they should.

The Importance of Being Earnest runs through March 22nd at Lakeshore Players in White Bear Lake. For more information and to purchase tickets go to https://www.lakeshoreplayers.org/earnest-season-73

Cake is Bittersweet With Layers of Rich Emotions Sprinkled With a Dash of Grounding Realism. Yep I Cried at Theatre in the Round

Natavia Lewis, Via Logan, and Jenny Ramirez Photo by Aaron Mark Photo Film

The Cake isn’t your play-it-safe, fairy-tale-ending play about bringing social consciousness to “The South”. You know what I mean when I put “The South” in quotation marks. I’ve made enough comments in these reviews and on the YouTube show that you probably know which side of the bed I fall out of. If you’re reading this, I assume you either land on the same side or at least respect the differences in our sleeping arrangements.

This isn’t really a play about changing someone’s views. It’s about personal growth, and about learning to push back against the things that feel wrong, even when doing so is uncomfortable.

Della, a Southern baker with strong Christian values, is asked to bake a wedding cake for her late best friend’s daughter, Jen. The complication? Jen is marrying another woman, Macy. Della who has trouble supporting this, is supported by her husband Tim. Jen, meanwhile, tries to appease everyone in her life, including Macy, who does not quietly suffer fools. It’s safe to say the situation turns all of their worlds upside down.

What follows is a tender, funny, and complicated reckoning with faith, friendship, love, and tradition. You may think you know how it ends, but it isn’t as neat and tidy as we expect. The play repeatedly subverts expectations, taking turns I didn’t anticipate.

As Della begins to question her stance, she’s also forced to confront other aspects of her life, including her marriage. There’s a pivotal scene in which she confronts Tim, beginning with their sexual relationship and expanding into questions of power dynamics. Depending on your age and relationship experience, their marriage may feel either deeply wrong or deeply real. I don’t personally agree with their dynamic, but there’s a difference between someone imposing a patriarchal structure and a couple who have simply been raised to believe that’s how things should be. Playwright Bekah Brunstetter deserves credit for wading into these murkier waters and embracing nuance. It allows us to see Della and Tim as a real couple, not just a couple from “The South.” By the end, both show a willingness to try, even if neither transforms into a tree-hugging leftist exploring gluten-free veganism and queer theory.

Jenny Ramirez as Della and D’aniel Stock as Tim deliver what we used to euphemistically call “brave” performances. This is where I warn you that this show contains strong language, sexual situations, and partial nudity. Since I doubt I have many 13-year-old readers, I don’t feel like I’m driving exploitative ticket sales by saying so. Ramirez and Stock deserve real credit for their vulnerability, which is what those scenes are about. These scenes are not about titillation, pardon the pun, but about two people opening up to each other in ways they haven’t in years. That’s difficult and deeply human. Is it necessary? I think it’s not only effective but appropriate in this play. It grounds the play and gives the audience a way in. Like Endometriosis The Musical last summer, it creates space for conversations we should be having more openly.

The entire cast is strong, but Ramirez especially impressed me. She plays the character who we assume in most audiences minds has it wrong. She never completely changes, but she does grow, and her performance allows us to view the character sympathetically and to understand her, even if we don’t agree with her. Stock likewise keeps Tim recognizable and grounded, never slipping into caricature.

Natavia Lewis brings confidence and clarity to Macy. She isn’t militant; she’s persuasive, thoughtful, and firm in who she is. Via Logan gives a moving performance as Jen, caught painfully in the middle. She beautifully captures the difficulty of embracing an identity that challenges everything she was raised to believe, not just about her sexuality, but about how those in her orbit think about people from “The South.” It’s an emotionally raw performance that hit home. And yes, I cried. Big surprise.

I’ve avoided mentioning Kjer Whiting as George until now because he provides something entirely different: delightful bursts of comedic fantasy that act as perfect palate cleansers between heavier scenes. It’s impeccable casting. It’s hard to imagine anyone else frosting those lines with quite the same flair.

Director Jennie Ward and Intimacy Director H. Ashley deserve enormous credit for bringing this production to vivid life. Ashley handles the intimacy between Della and Tim with a clear understanding of how longtime partners differ from young lovers. In contrast, the physicality between Jen and Macy emphasizes passion and immediacy over familiarity. Ward makes a particularly effective choice in overlapping Jen and Macy’s love scene with Della lying awake in bed, trying not to think about them. It deepens the emotional resonance of a later moment and ties the themes together beautifully.

The Cake is thoughtful, funny, and deeply human. It doesn’t hand you easy answers, and that’s precisely its strength.

The Cake runs through March 15th at Theatre in the Round. For more information and to purchase tickets go to https://www.theatreintheround.org/thecake/

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Oscar Wilde’s Salomé is Shiveringly Good at PAIKKA

Nathan Keepers Photo by Molly Jay Photography

The new production of Oscar Wilde’s Salomé, playing at PAIKKA, isn’t just a play, it’s an experience.

To get the most out of it, when they show you the coat rack, do not avail yourself of it. Find a seat close to the action, but also as near as possible to the end of the room you entered from. A character exits and enters through an exterior door several times during the show, and depending on the weather, you’re going to want to protect yourself. If I have one criticism, it’s not the use of the door, it’s how long it’s left open. I’m not saying I believe they shouldn’t do it. I just know I wished I’d had my coat instead of sitting there in a short-sleeved T-shirt.

The discomfort is clearly intentional, and I understand the artistic reasoning. Still, a warning might have been nice. At times I found myself distracted, not only by my own chill but by concern for the actors, who occasionally had even less protection than I did. And that’s all I’ll say about that. Take the proper precautions and you’ll be free to immerse yourself in this riveting drama.

Wilde’s play tells the story of Jokanaan (John the Baptist), imprisoned in a cistern by King Herod. The production opens in a dining hall, where some audience members are seated (don’t worry, there’s no audience participation), as four servants tidy up and gossip. We quickly learn that one of them is infatuated with Princess Salomé, Herod’s stepdaughter.

When Salomé leaves the party and enters the dining hall, she hears Jokanaan’s prophetic ravings and becomes fascinated. She convinces a servant to bring him before her. She is captivated by him, and is determined to kiss his lips, but he refuses her advances and is returned to his prison. Soon Herod and his wife, Herodias, enter. It becomes disturbingly clear that Herod harbors an inappropriate fascination with his stepdaughter. He promises Salomé anything she desires if she will dance for him. She agrees, and when she names her price, he desperately attempts to dissuade her.

Director Grant Sorenson eschews traditional theatrical forms, creating something immediate, immersive, and visceral. From my seat at one of the tables, it felt like front row theater in the most literal sense, which as faithful readers know, is my preferred vantage point. The action unfolds between two long banquet tables, with audiences seated along the outside edges and in rows lining the walls. The performers use the entire space, moving from one end of the room to the other and even through both doors. At times, the actors are directly between the tables and the audience, eliminating any sense of distance.

The performances are uniformly strong. Ani Tonoyan, in a dazzling silver gown, makes Salomé both seductive and calculating. Emily Gunyou Halaas brings a grounded realism to Herodias, watchful and keenly aware of her husband’s wandering eye. Logan Lang’s Jokanaan is ferocious, a prophet teetering between divine inspiration and madness, with bursts of physical intensity that are genuinely startling.

But it is Nathan Keepers as Herod who steals the show. His performance is layered with pointed allusions to Trump, funny, unsettling, and chillingly recognizable. He prowls the dining hall, ranting and rambling, his obsession with his stepdaughter rendered both grotesque and darkly comic. Whether you see the parallels immediately or gradually, the effect is undeniable. It’s a bold and captivating performance.

The ensemble of servants is equally compelling, and the presence of Stages of MN Must-See Lister, Stephanie Kahle, alone is reason enough to attend.

Salomé runs just two weekends ending February 28th. For more information and to purchase tickets go to https://www.salomempls.com/

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Les Misérables Continues to Stun and Captivate at the Orpheum Theatre

Lindsay Heather Pearce as Fantine Photo by Matthew Murphy

This is my fourth journey to post-revolutionary France with Les Misérables and, remarkably, my fourth time seeing this touring production at the Orpheum Theatre. The first was in 2018, before The Stages of MN’s time. At a time when I’m trying to scale back on the number of shows I attend so I can focus on producing episodes of the YouTube show, repeat viewings are usually the first to go. For example, although I enjoyed Kimberly Akimbo when it played The Orpheum Theatre last year I decided to skip it at the Ordway Center for the Performing Arts this month.

But when it comes to Les Misérables, there are shows you can miss… and shows you simply don’t. You can probably guess where this one falls. Even though it was here just over a year ago, I signed up without hesitation. And when it returns in a few years (fingers crossed), I’ll be there again.

Once more, I was completely swept up in the overwhelming beauty of this production. With its magnificent cast and painterly production design, every scene glowing as though lifted from a Rembrandt painting, the show remains one of the most breathtaking theatrical experiences around. Inarguably among the greatest musicals of the late 20th century, it pairs music by Claude-Michel Schönberg with lyrics by Herbert Kretzmer, adapted from the novel by Victor Hugo. Nearly three hours long, it never wastes a moment. Every lyric, every musical phrase, propels the story forward. No matter how many times I see it, I remain riveted from beginning to end.

Set in early 19th century France, Les Misérables follows Jean Valjean, imprisoned for 19 years for stealing a loaf of bread to feed his sister’s child. Upon his release, he discovers that freedom does not mean acceptance. Shunned and desperate, he is taken in by a Bishop who offers him food and shelter. When Valjean steals silver from him and is caught, the Bishop claims it was a gift, granting him a second chance. In that moment of grace, Valjean resolves to remake his life.

Years later, he has become a factory owner and mayor. There we meet Fantine, unjustly dismissed and forced into a tragic downward spiral to support her daughter, Cosette. Meanwhile, the relentless Inspector Javert begins to suspect Valjean’s true identity. The narrative spans years, weaving together love, sacrifice, political unrest, and redemption, culminating in the Paris student uprising. Though epic in scope, the storytelling is remarkably clear. And while the events can sound relentlessly bleak, the overall effect is anything but. It is uplifting, powerful, and wonderous.

Opening night featured numerous understudies, something I might not have realized had I not been told. Randy Jeter stepped in as Jean Valjean, a role I had previously seen performed by Nick Cartell. Jeter more than did the part justice. While he may not have had quite the same upper-register strength as Cartell, his performance was emotionally grounded and vocally assured.

Lindsay Heather Pearce delivered a heartbreaking “I Dreamed a Dream,” letting Fantine’s despair seep into every note. Jaedynn Latter’s Eponine was another standout. If Valjean is the show’s conscience, Eponine is its heart. Her “On My Own” was so moving it briefly makes you question whether Marius truly belongs with Cosette. Hayden Tee’s Javert was vocally powerful and dramatically nuanced, his final scene eliciting audible gasps. Even on my fourth viewing, I still can’t quite figure out how that moment is staged. Kyle Adams, stepping into the role of Thénardier, provided comic relief alongside Victoria Huston-Elem’s Madame Thénardier, though Adams doesn’t quite eclipse previous performance by Matt Crowle who I saw last time and whom he was understudying for tonight. Still, their timing offered welcome levity amid the drama.

The production design, everything from the sets to the lighting, projections, and costumes, creates one of the most beautiful shows I’ve ever encountered. On one side of the stage there’s a doorway; on the other, a stone archway. Those elements remain constant. Throughout the play, the sides push out to varying degrees and, somehow, these two openings come to look like entirely new structures. It’s a fascinatingly versatile set, large, impressive, and solid-looking, yet able to flow, change, and reconfigure with remarkable fluidity.

Set and image design is by Matt Kinley, inspired by the paintings of Victor Hugo. Lighting designer Paule Constable doesn’t merely illuminate the stage, she paints with light. There’s such a seamless melding of physical set and lighting design, and it’s through the marriage of these two art forms that the show achieves its painterly aesthetic. And yes, when set and lighting design look this good, it is absolutely an art form.

Projections by Finn Ross and Fifty-Nine Productions are used sparingly and effectively, enhancing rather than overwhelming the physical scenery. As someone often wary of excessive projection, I found this production a reminder of how breathtaking the medium can be when used judiciously.

Les Misérables runs through February 22 at the Orpheum Theatre in downtown Minneapolis. For tickets and more information, visit hennepinarts.org.

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