Let the Season Begin!
The Hound of the Baskervilles
Over the years The Awkward Pose has evolved. This blog, initially centered on yoga, became a forum about Haiti post-earthquake, then a chronicle of bicycling across America (a couple of times) while our nation descended into divisiveness. Recently, it’s been a potpourri of personal essays.
For the past three years I’ve written articles about Boston-area theaters for NETIR (New England Theatre in Review). I’ve seen some extraordinary local theater — more than thirty performances last year alone. NETIR is an archival record, published after the theater season is over. Therefore, what I write is already history. So this season I’ve decided that when I see inspired local theater, I’ll post it to The Awkward Pose in real time.
Perhaps it will motivate local readers to attend some of the terrific theater Boston and Cambridge offer. Perhaps it will move distant readers to discover local theater wherever you live. Either way, I hope it will encourage everyone to support local theater, an art form that no screen can rival.
The Hound of the Baskervilles
September 12 — October 6, 2024
An empty stage. The ghost light. What a perfect welcome to a new season of theater.
Central Square Theater kicks off its 2024–2025 season with Steven Canny and John Nicholson’s creative retelling of The Hound of the Baskervilles, directed by Lee Mikeska Gardner and showcasing the versatility of three stellar females: Aimee Doherty, Jenny S. Lee, and Sarah Morin.
Yes, Watson, your deduction is correct. A mere three women present this entire Sherlock Holmes’ mystery, portraying a dozen or so Victorian men, along with a few rather dazzling damsels. However, truth be told, the piece lacks one major component of the original — it’s not the least bit scary. Rather, it’s funny. Very, very funny.
CST’s Hound is a riotous concoction of stodgy source material, stirred to a Monty Python level of comic excess, laced with pop-culture references, served up in female drag. Within the space of a few minutes I caught allusions to Barry Manilow, The Man from UNCLE, A Chorus Line, and Goodnight Moon. And the really weird thing is: each out-of-context reference makes perfect sense in this zany interpretation.
Not every aspect of the production is perfect. The set is rather banal, the stage is actually too large for all the bounding and hiding, and the second act goes on a bit too long. But such criticisms are minor compared to the perfect synchronization of actor, lighting and sound throughout. There are moments when the actors literally change character every line, but the audience stays with them because each character, no matter how minor, is so well crafted.
There are even moments when the actors play Aimee, Jenny and Sarah themselves, commenting on the play even as they are performing it. Ultimately, this meta- aspect of the play is what makes the entire evening so worthwhile — and hilarious. The quick change, the aside wink, the in-joke that we all get because we are all together in the flesh. These are elements of art and performance that do not translate to the screen. That energy, that passion, that sense of commonality can only be felt live and in person.
So don’t just sit there, reading this on your screen. GO!!!!
