• Ever since my Dad first tricked me into trying some when I was a kid, Root Beer has held a special place in my heart. I’ve tried all the big brands (Barq’s, you can go screw yourself!) and explored the various local and niche brands, so I like to think I have a pretty good idea of what makes a good brew. And given I’ve already explored fermentation in various forms by making homemade hot sauce and mead, it was more or less inevitable that some day I’d try making the stuff myself.

    As I so often do with things like this, I dove deep into online research, reading a half-dozen or so different recipes to figure out the different ways in which root beer can be made from scratch. I identified the necessary specialty ingredients (and where to find then) and the basic techniques. What I ended up discovering is that most of the recipes I found used similar overall methods, with the individual steps tending to vary in specific details recipe-to-recipe. So having made some practice batches in the past, and adding some inspiration of my own, I’m going to show you how my own root beer gets made.

    Part 1: the Root of the Recipe

    Root Beer starts, of course, with roots. Yes, literal roots. Indigenous tribes in North America have been using dried roots and other plants, herbs, etc. for medicinal and culinary use forever, and most historical accounts seem to believe the origin of root beer came from European settlers and colonizers combining these Indigenous ingredients with their own brewing traditions. In many ways, you could say that makes root beer the most American of beverages. But what roots do you use?

    These can be found online in specialty stores or places like Etsy. Sassafras specifically, however, can be fairly expensive, so keep that in mind.

    The basis of most recipes I’ve seen put three roots at the center: Sarsaparilla, Sassafrass, and Birch. Sarsaparilla is probably one most root beer aficionados are familiar with, and it brings a lot of the familiar aromas and flavors. Sassafras was traditional for a long time, but has been phased out of commercial recipes. Large companies can’t use it as a food product because the FDA has concerns about it being a potential health risk. But home brew setups and cottage food manufacturers like myself aren’t subject to the same regulation, so I’m going to use it for authenticity’s sake. My recipe calls for half a cup each of Sarsaparilla, Sassafrass, and birch.

    In addition to the roots, there are other herbs and spices that can be added to enhance the root beer flavor base. For herbs, I use two different kinds of mint: Chocolate Mint and spearmint (sometimes I use wintergreen as well, depending on what I have available to me), one tablespoon of each. I’m also going to add to that some spices: Allspice, cloves, nutmeg (specifically calabash nutmeg, which is my preferred variety) and a cinnamon stick. These warming spices are a flavor profile I always enjoy, and they are often used in root beer. Finally, I have two vanilla beans for added depth and flavor

    One you have your flavorings picked out, it’s time to make your flavor base. Add the ingredients to a pot with a gallon of spring water, bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer. How long you cook this is up to you – recipes I’ve seen can vary from as little as 10 minutes to as long as 30. I have quite a few ingredients in the mix here, so I’m going to go with a 30-minute simmer to try and maximize flavor extraction.

    Double, double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble…

    30 minutes of cooking later, and let me tell you… it definitely smells like root beer! At this point what we essentially have is root beer tea, and like any good tea we’re going to let it sit and steep for a while. 1 to 2 hours or so off the heat will allow the flavors to better infuse. Meanwhile, we’ll use that time to consider our sweeteners.

    Part 2: Sweet and Lowdown

    There are a wide variety of sweeteners that can be used for root beer. Commercial brands use high fructose corn syrup, of course, or there are slightly higher-end brands that use cane sugar. Most of the recipes that I’ve found call for two types of sweeteners – a solid sugar like granulated or brown sugar, and a liquid sweetener, usually molasses.

    Here is where I break from tradition a bit. The first time I tried making root beer I used brown sugar and molasses. It tasted good, but ended up being too molasses-forward for my palate. So I’ve tried to find replacements that can do what molasses does in terms of color and sweetening but with a less dominant flavor. I ended up going with a combination. I’m using a little bit of molasses for color and tradition’s sake, but I’m combining that with treacle (often used in English cooking; it has a similar color and texture to molasses but is sweeter) and honey. The amounts I’m using aren’t measured exactly, but for a total of 1/2 cup of liquid sweetener I’m going with approximately one part molasses to one part treacle to two parts honey.

    Once the liquid has finished steeping, I’m going to strain it though a mesh sieve and cheesecloth into another pot. Then I stir in 1 1/2 cups of brown sugar as well as the other sweeteners. Once everything is fully dissolved and incorporated it’s time to break out the thermometer, because we have to make sure the liquid is the right temperature before it is time for the bubbly.

    Part 3: Carbonation Station

    Like most of the other steps, there are a number of ways to add carbonation to your root beer. You could use a Sodastream or other compressed CO2 if you wish, but I prefer something a bit more natural. In those instances, you can go with yeast or a ginger bug.

    Yeast, of course, comes in many different varieties for many different uses. I tend to keep yeast optimized for mead in my fridge at most times, but for root beer the ideal yeast is supposedly ale yeast. Now, this does mean the resulting beverage will have some alcohol in it. But due to the small amount used it’s going to be marginal – a kombucha or even a sandwich made on sourdough will probably have a similar alcohol content. But even then there are other options, like a ginger bug.

    This is my ginger bug. Her name is Mary Ann.

    A ginger bug is made from a process virtually identical to making a sourdough starter. You start with filtered or spring water, then add chopped fresh ginger root and sugar. You then feed it ginger and sugar every day until you can see the bubbling begin. Lots of recipes for ginger bug I’ve found online call specifically for the use of organic ginger, so that’s typically what I use, but I honestly can’t say run-of-the-mill ginger root wouldn’t work just as well. My personal touch is rather than using straight sugar to feed it, I alternate normal granulated sugar with turbinado sugar, a less refined sugar often used in Caribbean or West African cooking.

    For my root beer, I’m going to use a combination of my ginger root and a small amount of ale yeast. I’m using about 1/2 cup of the former and just a pinch – probably less than 1/8 tsp – of the latter. But you have to be careful to not add it too early… if the liquid is warmer than 80 degrees Fahrenheit it’s likely to kill the yeast before it can do its work. I typically wait until the temperature is between 75 and 80. Now it’s time to bottle.

    Part 3: Bottle it up, but don’t explode!

    We don’t mess around with carbonation in this house.

    You can store this is any number of containers – I’ve used mason jars in the past – but for the true root beer experience you want a glass bottle. You can buy flip-top bottles that can be reused, and those are also very useful for testing (more on that later), but since I’m selling this stuff, I’m going to use fully sealed glass bottles.

    Make sure you use clean bottles, obviously.

    Once the carbonation agent(s) have been thoroughly mixed, it’s best to use a funnel and cheesecloth filter to fill in the bottles. But not too full! There’s going to be a lot of carbonation building up during the fermentation process, and you don’t want to risk the bottles exploding. So make sure there’s at least once inch of space near the top before you seal it.

    You can use flip-top bottles, or this scary-looking device to seal glass bottles completely.

    Now that the bottles have been filled and sealed, it’s time to ferment. This is where having a spare flip-top comes in handy. Any leftover root beer you have after filling in as many bottles as you can (this recipe makes about 9-10) can be put in a flip-top for testing purposes. Place all the bottles in a secure, room-temperature area for 2-3 days. At this time the yeast and/or bug will have done their work. Test it by flipping open a bottle and seeing how most carbonation has built up. If it’s to your liking, you can move the bottles to the fridge for chilling and to slow any further fermentation. Still, it’s not unusual for quite a bit of CO2 to build up over just a day or two, so be careful.

    So yeah, that’s how I made my own root beer. And as I mentioned, it is for sale. Given this is a limited supply, made of high quality ingredients, I’m asking for $5 per bottle or 4 for $20. Based on supply, demand, and my own schedule, I’m going to continue to keep making this particular style of root beer, but that’s not where it ends – I have more recipes that I’m developing/experimenting with that I’ll be revealing soon, so stay tuned, friends and neighbors!

    Please reach out to me if you are interested in buying some or ordering the next batch!

  • The Little Falls theatre community theatre’s production of Into the Woods shows that there’s still plenty of creativity to be found in this material. It’s probably my favorite musical of all time, and I’ve seen more than a half-dozen productions of it in different capacities. This production, directed by Emma Ahlin, shows a great deal of inspiration and imagination, even if the incredibly meticulous nature of the direction leaves some of the performances by the actors behind.

    This take on Into the Woods seems to exist primarily within the imagination of a young girl. The set is bright and colorful, styled like a child’s bedroom. The Narrator (Nora Vedder) opens up her toy box as she begins to tell the story, with the performers representing the dolls she removes from it. This is a very inspired perspective – one I’ve never seen before. I wonder if the Baker and his Wife represent the Narrator’s parents – that adds an interesting twist to the standard doubling of roles where Vedder also plays the Mysterious Man. However, right away we also get an example of the direction getting in the way of the performers. Nora Vedder has a wonderful singing voice as showcased in “Ever After” and “No More”, but her line delivery elsewhere in the show is very rushed. I get the sense that she was focusing on getting her lines out so she could make it to the next movement in her blocking (the character also operates a lot of props, such as Cinderella’s birds). This robs the delivery of the emotion the dialogue deserves, especially in her scenes as the Mysterious Man.

    This is something I noticed in many parts of the show – the blocking is so precise and deliberate that while often very imaginative, it also makes the show feel less spontaneous, less lively. Compare this to the production I saw in Pequot Lakes a few weeks ago – that one had technical issues and was less formally ambitious, but the actors were truly bringing their own energy and imagination to the performances. The actors in this production are undeniably skilled, but with a few exceptions they seem more like… well… playthings than performers.

    The actors who stood out to me the most were Abby Shnobrich (who also serves as Production Manager) as The Witch, Janna Idzerda as The Baker’s Wife, and Derik Wright & Eric Kalkbrenner as an uncharacteristically (and delightfully) dorky pair of Princes. All of these performers are able to find new life in their roles and don’t feel as if they’re being rushed. I don’t know if it was inherent to how their scenes were written or if the staging was different, but if the rest of the casts’ performances were allowed to slow down and breathe in the same way, we could have had the whole cast find ways to give performances that are as individually inspired as Ahlin’s overall directorial vision.

    It may feel like I’m being overly critical, but it’s not often that I feel so aware of the mechanics of a show’s direction. Maybe it’s because I’m so familiar with Into the Woods as a property, or maybe it’s because the individual pieces are so good. Technically, the show was impeccable (a few mic issues in Act 2 aside). The set and lighting are beautifully done and there always seem to be new surprises popping in how the show is being staged. The blocking and choreography are well done (the exception being “First Midnight” which mostly consists of people walking rapidly back and forth across the stage) and the songs are all sung wonderfully. There’s no denying that this made me think harder about the show more than just about any other version I’ve seen, and even if I had some issues here and there, there’s undeniably value to that.

    I stand by my belief that any production of Into the Woods is going to be worth going to, and despite my quibbles, the sheer creativity on display here absolutely makes this one worthy of anybody’s time.

    INTO THE WOODS plays at Charles D. Martin Auditorium in Little Falls High School through August 9th.

  • Theatre is about telling stories, music is about capturing emotion, and art is about representing life. Artistry MN has accomplished all of that with their new production of In the Heights. Director Maija García’s production of Lin Manuel Miranda’s musical about a few days in the life of a Washington Heights community embodies the joy and struggle of everyday life. It’s about when it is time to move on and why it’s sometimes important to stick it out. More than anything, it’s a celebration of all who are able to keep living their lives in the face of setbacks, and learning from the ones you face along the way.

    We see through the show’s runtime a collage of different stories representing the various people who live in the Hispanic neighborhood. Most everybody is facing hardship of some sort – financial, romantic, professional, personal – and everybody seems to be in each others’ business. Usnavi (Andrés-Román Wood) runs the local bodega and serves as our narrator. Everybody can tell he’s in love with Vanessa (Janely Rodriguez), but he’s terrified of making the first move. Benny (Chris Owuso) is ambitious but stuck in a job at the local taxi dispatch. He’s never quite been able to earn the respect of his boss Kevin (Pedro R. Bayón), a situation complicated by the fact that he has feelings for Kevin’s daughter Nina (Raquel Ponce), who just returned from California and is terrified to admit she had to drop out of Stanford. There’s also Claudia (Jen Santoro Rotty) who’s lived there forever and has served as the honorary Abuela to everyone in the neighborhood. What makes a show like In the Heights so distinct is that all of these characters and more feel like real people with real problems and real dreams. Much like Come From Away (soon ending its run at the Guthrie) everyone in this show feels like somebody you could encounter on the street, and they’ve been written, directed, and performed by people who fully understand their sort of life. It’s a show that feels universal in its specificity.

    The word that comes to mind when I think of this production is vibrant. This is a colorful, energetic, exciting production where even the lowest points of the story feel full of life. This is thanks in large part to director García and choreographer Abby Magalee, both of whom do exceptionally good work. Magalee’s choreography especially is a highlight, with the cast breaking out some incredible dance moves that we know were meticulously planned out but nonetheless feel spontaneous. There’s always something going on in Eli Sherlock’s single-location set, reminding us that no matter what happens with our protagonists, life still goes on with everybody else. Then there are the moments when the entire neighborhood becomes engaged, like when Usnavi realizes he’s sold a winning lottery ticket and everybody starts to dream about what they would do with the $96,000 prize. The entire show, beginning to end, feels like we’ve been welcomed in to these people’s lives, to the point where when there’s a death, we grieve the deceased alongside everybody else.

    The attention to detail, the sensitively managed performances, the emotional truth, all of these show that In the Heights has come from a team that truly loves that they have been given the opportunity to share this story with us, and for good reason. At a time when the Hispanic population is being targeted and demonized, works of art like In the Heights remind us that these people are just fighting to live their lives, and their willingness to do that is exactly what makes their lives worth fighting for. In what has been overall an incredibly strong year for musical theatre productions in the Twin Cities, In the Heights is one of the very best.

    IN THE HEIGHTS plays at the Bloomington Center for the Arts through August 23rd

  • It seems weird that it took until now for me to finally see Wicked live. I was generally aware of the musical’s premise and performed a couple of the songs in high school band, but it wasn’t until the film duology was released that I actually saw any of the show itself. Of course, the stage musical is a different beast compared to the movies and should be engaged with on its own level. Thankfully, the national tour of Wicked, currently playing at the Orpheum in Minneapolis makes that easy. This is what people want to see when they go see a Broadway musical.

    A key part of the show’s success (something that some more modern shows miss) is that for all of the colorful spectacle, effects, and choreography, the performances from the actors are always front and center – often literally. In some lavish musicals there’s a risk that the performers may get swallowed up by the sheer size of the production, but not here. Both restraint on the part of the direction and the charisma of the actors makes it clear this is about the characters and what the events of the story means to them. There are many numbers where it’s just an actor on a mostly bare stage singing, and that’s all we need. This is especially true for the numbers involving Elphaba. Elphaba is played by Aline Mayagoitia (previously seen in the Broadway cast of Real Women Have Curves and on tour as Katherine Howard in Six) in a commanding performance. Her Elphaba makes is clear from the start she suffers no fools. Being the target of people’s fear and malice has made her a very angry person, and she’s not afraid to show it. It’s the sort of performance you can’t take your eyes off, no matter what else is happening on stage. She’s so good that the rest of the cast is overshadowed at times – there’s no question that this version of Wicked is Elphaba’s story through and through.

    That’s not to say the rest of the cast is lackluster. Claudia Bennett is an absolutely hilarious Glinda, showing excellent skills at physical comedy and sweet chemistry with Mayagoitia and Ethan Kirschbaum’s Fiyero. As Boq, Pablo David Laucerica may be a bit too ineffectual for his own good… it’s not clear exactly how someone as sweet and smart as Nessarose (Cristina Sastre from the original Broadway cast of How to Dance in Ohio) became so attached to him. Tom McGowan plays the Wizard with an appropriate balance of charismatic and pathetic… someone who just kind of stumbled into power and became a tyrant almost by accident. The most truly malicious character in this production is Susan Cella’s Madame Morrible, who does most of the heavy lifting when it comes to manipulating and exploiting people. It’s probably telling that Glinda having Morrible arrested gets a bigger reaction than when she runs off the Wizard.

    The production itself is slick and full of energy – there’s not a single lag in its pacing. There’s inventive choreography throughout, especially in the early numbers like “What is this Feeling” that help to vividly portray Elphaba’s isolation from her classmates. I did have difficulty distinguishing the lyrics in the larger ensemble songs, which is not an issue I typically have. Thankfully, there are only a handful of ensemble-driven songs with most of the rest led by one or two of the main cast members. Lyrical clarity aside, the ensemble is doing strong work here, helping create a fully realized Oz for the characters to inhabit – credit especially should go to the performers who play the monkeys, who pull off some truly remarkable physical and acrobatic feats.

    Having finally seen it on stage, it’s easy to see why Wicked became such a cultural phenomenon. This is a show that dazzles and excites the audience, built around performances that can instantly turn actors into stars. You’re never going to bring them down.

    WICKED plays at the Orpheum Theatre in Minneapolis through August 8th.

  • “The butler did it” is one of those turns of phrase that has existed as a cliché for so long that it’s impossible to think of a context in which it could be used seriously. Jeffrey Hatcher’s new play The Butler Did It, having its world premiere at Park Square Theatre in St. Paul, is indeed a thriller where the butler did it, but that is only the start of the story and it’s a story told with wit and energy to spare.

    Basically the play’s set-up

    The show is set in a San Francisco school for butlers run by Portman (Steve Hendrickson) a veteran butler who doesn’t much like to talk about his past. Also there are his second in command Merriman (Pearce Bunting) and their students, the overachieving Lane (Peter Christian Hansen), his girlfriend Emma (Anna Beth Baker) and the hapless Tony (Neal Beckman). A murder occurs on the night of Lane’s final exam, and the ensuing investigation reveals secrets about the school and those who attend that could threaten to ruin everything.

    I’m going to do my best to avoid any specific plot details, as for a show like this seeing things unfold is half the fun. Suffice it to say, however, this is not a conventional whodunit. Jeffrey Hatcher’s author’s note mentions the story was originally conceived as an episode of Columbo, and it plays in much the way you’d expect from that – a murderer who thinks they’re smarter than everyone else commits what they believe is the perfect crime, then spends the rest of the show trying to ensure they get away with it, usually encountering and dispatching with an unexpected obstacle or two along the way. Hatcher and director David Ira Goldstein (long-time collaborators at Park Square, having last worked together on the brilliant Holmes/Poirot in 2024) know they’re working with well-worn tropes, but are also skilled enough to find ways to add additional twists, turns, and double-crosses even when we think we’ve figured out where things are going.

    The cast spends the pre-show tidying up the set, as butlers are wont to do

    Another similarity this play has with Columbo is in its detective character: Inspector Denise is an affable, enthusiastic sort whose friendly exterior hides a shrewd mind that is able to identify even the smallest inconsistency in a story. Allison Vincent plays the Inspector and she’s a total delight, positively vibrating with energy as the character embarks on her first case. There are plenty of laughs to be had in her interactions with the snooty butler school, but she never lets the culture clash get to her. She’s just there to do her job, after all but who says she can’t enjoy herself along the way? This is the first of five new plays Jeffrey Hatcher plans to write for Park Square, and while I don’t know if he has any more plans for Inspector Denise specifically, I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to seeing her on stage in further adventures.

    The entire cast around Vincent is very well-balanced, with even the actors who only have one or two scenes making an impact. The set by Benjamin Olsen, a single room in a mansion, is well designed and decorated and filled with the sorts of little details and surprises you’d expect from a story like this. The script and performances are filled with little details, too – many of which come back and show their significance in unexpected ways. I’d love to come back and see it again Z I’m sure there are even more details that I missed. That’s the mark of a good thriller – even if it is working from conventional tropes, and even if you already know what is going to happen, there will always be a thrill that comes from witnessing it all come together.

    THE BUTLER DID IT plays at Park Square Theatre through August 16th

  • It may be a musical comedy by genre, but there were times as I watched the Brainerd Community Theatre’s production of Mean Girls that had me so stressed out I felt like I was wriggling out of my skin. Co-directors Amy Borash and Travis Chaput are able to capture the anxieties of being in high school uncannily well. Of course, when you’re a teenager all of your emotions are magnified tenfold anyway, but in this production the emotional fallout of the shattered friendships and revealed secrets reaches a borderline apocalyptic tone. That makes it all the more impressive by how the show still manages to bring everything together with a finale that manages to be truly cathartic and moving in a way that feels truly earned.

    Mean Girls is, of course, Tina Fey’s stage musical adaptation of her hit 2004 comedy about a teen named Cady (Mekayla Van Santen), previously homeschooled while living in Africa with her parents, who enters an American school for the first time in her sophomore year of high school. There’s a fun running gag in the show where Cady, raised mostly around wildlife, compares the dog-eat-dog nature of high school social orders to the actual carnage of the animal kingdom, and she’s not too far off. She learns early on through the guidance of classmates Janise (Sarah Larson) and Damian (Noah Barnhart) that the school is run by a strict hierarchy of cliques, and above all lie the Plastics, led by the imposing Regina George. Gwendolyn Bowen was originally cast as Regina George, but as a result of a medical emergency, the role was played in the performance I watched by Marie Fahey, who originally served as the show’s intimacy coordinator. Watching the performance, you’d never suspect Fahey was a last-minute replacement – she gives Regina all of the charisma, spunk, and deviousness the role requires. She makes a great foil to Mekayla Van Santen, who brings great sincerity to the role of Cady, in a deceptively difficult role. She has to play the earnest heroine who slides into meanness without realizing she has done anything wrong. Van Santen does this so effectively you could risk missing the character arc. At one point I was considering  if the true lead of the show might actually have been Sarah Larson’s Janise, as she’s the one who convinces Cady to infiltrate and subvert Regina’s circle in the first place, and she has an entire arc of her own as the witnesses both the personal and wider consequences of her actions.

    This circle includes Natalie Topete as Gretchen, always eager to please, whether it be Regina or anybody else who enters her social circle.  She’s joined by Karen (Mehayla Van Santen), who steals scenes with her dim-bulb tendencies. Some people are said to have difficulty walking and chewing gum at the same time – for Karen, standing and breathing simultaneously seems to be pushing her limit. Cady initially seems if not charmed by Regins at least impressed by the power she holds amongst her classmates (the song “Apex Predator” ties this to the aforementioned wildlife theme) and soon finds herself spending more and more time with them. She also finds herself drawn to Aaron (Leopold Famoso, charming and endearing) a cute guy in her calculus class. Her song “Stupid With Love” is a very charming expression of an awkward crush, one that becomes dangerous when she learns Aaron is Regina’s ex. Not wanting to risk her friendship with Regina by making a move but still wanting to spend time with Aaon, Cady downplays her own mathematical abilities in order to get him to tutor her. But soon Regina learns of Cady’s interest in Aaron, and when Regina takes him back at a Halloween party, Cady becomes driven to finally bring her down.

    This is a faithful adaptation of the film, and Tina Fey updated it by incorporating social media into the story. There’s even a very funny song in Act II called “Stop” where Damian encourages Cady to hold back on the posting. This number and a few other places in the show had some audio imbalance, with the sound of the music and dancing drowning out the dialogue, but it only mattered briefly. You can always count on fun choreography from shows Amy Borash is involved in, and this one is no exception. There’s energetic dance numbers throughout and even some fun fight sequences. It’s all very elevated and very funny, but as the show takes pains to point out, the issues surrounding bullying are very real. Everybody’s gotten a thrill of taking someone down a peg, and everybody’s faced the pain of being targeted (ESPECIALLY in the age of social media). A show as goofy as this isn’t going to change the world, but it’s at least nice to know it takes its subject matter seriously – there’s even a song given to Regina’s mother (a character who was a total cartoon in the movie) reminding the audience that despite her pretense of being a “cool mom” it is still hard work to be a parent.

    Mean Girls is funny, exciting, and by the end surprisingly moving. I didn’t expect to have tears in my eyes while watching this, but as the cast performed “I See Stars” it truly created an emotional moment that brought it all together. It made being reminded of all the anxieties that came with high school worth it.

    MEAN GIRLS plays at the Chalberg Theatre at Central Lakes College through August 1st

  • Into the Woods is material that is just about as close to perfection as you can find in the American theatre canon. Between Stephen Sonheim’s unforgettable music and James Lapine’s tightly-constructed and witty book, I’ve often said almost any group with a baseline level of talent and resources can put on a satisfying show. This new production from the Pequot Lakes Community Theatre (aka Greater Lakes Performing Arts) was hampered by a number of technical flaws and pacing issues, but thanks to a game cast and the underlying strength of the material it still managed to ultimately make for a satisfying evening.

    The issues started early, when the opening number was paused due to an error involving the musical backing tracks. This eventually led to the whole thing being reset, but even the second go-around had an extended pause in the song resulting from actors missing their cues. Credit should go to Jayley Andresen as Red Riding Hood for getting the action moving again – the character of Red often sets the rhythm for productions of Into the Woods anyway, so she obviously knew exactly what to do to hit her cue and kick things into gear.

    Thankfully the technical issues during the rest of the show weren’t as noteworthy, although there were some issues with the sound and moments when the cast’s vocals didn’t quite synch up with the backing tracks. I recall there being similar issues when I saw Pequot’s productions of Shrek: the Musical and Annie, so maybe it comes with the venue. Outside of technical issues there was the occasional some lag in the pacing, most notably with “Giants in the Sky” which normally begins immediately after “First Midnight” but here there was a gap between songs as the actors moved into their paces, which upended the pacing a little bit. Thankfully Avi Trujillo as Jack made the song her own & brought new dimensions to it through her vocals.

    The cast of Into the Woods

    The cast as a whole all did well to rise up to the occasion, and with a show as well-balanced as Into the Woods it ensures that just about everyone had a standout moment. Brynn Bestland brings a smart earnestness to the role of Cinderella, while the always entertaining Baird Brutcher brings a unique and delightful physicality to the Wolf before moving on to playing Cinderella’s Prince as a man convinced he’s actually the hero of the story, even though his actions show him to be anything but. As the Baker, Sam Kalthoff is initially maybe too believable as a passive man who relies on his wife for everything (of course it’s probably easy to seem passive in comparison to Carrie Walker as the Baker’s Wife who steals scenes with her forceful personality) but especially in the second act Kalthoff digs deep into the Baker’s anger and brings new dimension to the character. I also appreciated how performers in the supporting cast like Erin Caswell, Abigail Porter, and Stephanie White brought a lot of character and personality to Cinderella’s mother, Rapunzel, and The Steward – these are smaller supporting parts that sometimes risk getting swallowed up by the rest of the story, but they make the characters real and distinctive.

    While I may have had issues with the technical execution and pacing of this production, I did enjoy the look and physical presentation of it. Director Jennifer LaRee Anderson and set designer Tim Leaglend build a layered set that has the main characters emerge from giant storybooks that are wheeled out onto the stage, with a series of trees in the background to represent the woods themselves. I also enjoyed the choice to have human actors play Milky White, the goose, and the harp (Anderson must have seen the Guthrie’s 2023 production of Into the Woods, as both it and hers use an actor on a tricycle to play Milky White). It’s a small touch, but it does give the show more personality.

    Thankfully, the second act had many fewer technical issues and went much smoother as a result. There were still some directorial and pacing choices I found odd but by the end I because as caught up in the story as I always do when watching this show, and Sonheim’s finale continues to be a rousing, emotional end that never fails to bring a tear to my eye. This production really is a tribute to the power of the underlying material, and how a talented cast will always be able to make a good show out of it.

    INTO THE WOODS runs through July 26 at Pequot Lakes High School Auditorium

  • Big Shark is Tommy Wiseau’s latest exploration of the joys of male friendship and how women are the biggest threat to it. Also there’s a big shark terrorizing New Orleans.

    One of the biggest concerns that comes with a filmmaker like Wiseau following up a movie as notorious as The Room is that he would start acting like he was in on the joke. Trying to wink at the camera and play into the reputation he’s cultivated in the years since The Room became a phenomenon in bad movie circles would likely be insufferable. The best thing that can be said about Big Shark is that Tommy Wiseau’s earnestness is still wholly present. Much like The Room was his attempt to create a Tennessee Williams-esque melodrama, Big Shark is an earnest effort at making a disaster-horror movie, although Wiseau still can’t help but soak the proceedings in melodrama along the way.

    Big Shark follows three New Orleans firefighters (Isaiah LaBorde, Mark Valeriano, and Wiseau himself) who have to save the city from a series of deadly shark attacks. In between – and sometimes during the shark attacks – they still have time for dance parties, basketball, day drinking with friends, and arguments with their girlfriends (who in the grand tradition of Wiseau’s films, are all obnoxious harpies). Casting himself as a firefighter allows Wiseau to indulge in another of his trademarks: endless self-aggrandizement. People are constantly telling our heroes how heroic they are, and hardly a scene goes by without someone reminding Wiseau that he’s a really great guy. The interplay between the firefighters (all of whom live in the same house, presumably to save on the movie’s budget) is very reminiscent of The Room in its idealized portrayal of male friendship alternated with harsh, angry arguments. What’s weird is how abruptly the tone shifts from friendly and angry and back again, often in the same scene or even the same conversation. One thing that can be said, in contrast to The Room, is that despite the inconsistent writing and acting I didn’t find myself asking why these guys were friends in the first place – if nothing else, the bond they have as firefighters comes through.

    Yes, this actually exists.

    The same thing can’t be said about the relationships between the men and their girlfriends, though. The arguments between them, especially between Wiseau’s Patrick and his girlfriend Sophia (Ashton Leigh, an old pro at this genre, having appeared in such films as Mississippi River Sharks, Ozark Sharks, Swamp Shark, and Great White Waters) are among the most insufferable parts of the movie; much like in The Room these arguments and conversations constantly repeat very strangely worded turns of phrase (most notably “you have a delusional mind!”) like a Harold Pinter play translated by Martians. What makes these scenes so frustrating is that they contribute almost nothing to the plot outside of manufacturing conflict between the characters, something that shouldn’t be necessary considering there’s a big shark on the loose.

    The shark scenes come fast and end just as abruptly, with the beast created through SyFy-grade CGI as it flies down flooded streets of New Orleans munching away at random civilians. The streets flooding with water is used as a way of foreshadowing the shark attacks and there’s an oblique reference to the city’s vulnerability to flooding in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, but there’s no real effort made at explaining where either the flooding or the shark came from. The only scenes that contain any suspense are when our heroes are trying to find the shark’s breeding ground so they can take it out with a pig stuffed with dynamite (the extended sequence where they procure the porker from a local barbecue place has to be seen to be believed – it plays like a Tim Robinson sketch). They’re also the only sequences where the shark doesn’t immediately devour whatever is in front of it (presumably the shark is a lot more effective at killing when flying through the air compared to when it is actually underwater). Like many a b-movie monster, the shark seems to vary in size from scene to scene. Wiseau describes the shark in dialogue as being thirty-five feet long, but it grows and shrinks depending on if it needs to navigate the streets, prowl the depths, or attack a yacht or suspension bridge (yes, that happens).

    Despite all of this, Tommy Wiseau’s technical skills do seem to have improved since The Room, although this could be a result of having more accomplished technicians below-the-line (Christian Schulz, one of several credited cinematographers, is a director in his own right and editor/colorist Hunter Thomas has worked as a technician and camera operator on many movies, including the New Orleans-set Renfield.) We get some expected obvious use of green screens that seem like part of Wiseau’s visual style at this point, but the location shooting in New Orleans is actually not bad. Wiseau’s affection for the city and the people who live there definitely comes through.

    This is clearly a movie meant to be seen with a rowdy crowd – that’s how most people have seen it since 2023, in event screenings often hosted by Wiseau himself (say what you will about him, but the man clearly knows his audience). I watched it at home on its newly-released Blu-ray, which is admittedly probably the least ideal viewing situation. As a result while there were plenty of unintentional laughs, after nearly two hours of it I ended up feeling like I was banging my head against the wall. This is a fascinating movie – like The Room it seems to transcend normal classification of “good” or “bad” or evem “so bad it’s good”. If you’re a fan of The Room or are a mad movie aficionado this is definitely worth checking out, but make sure you’re in the right mood.

  • Over the last few years, there’s been a trend on various forms of social media of women taking on the role of “tradwife”, where they relegate themselves to, and presumably find fulfillment in, traditionally conservative gender roles of the woman as homemaker and nurture. Laura Wade’s play Home, I’m Darling may have preceded this trend by a few years when it premiered in Wales in 2018, but it nonetheless plays like a deliberate deconstruction of the idea. This production at Lyrics Arts, under the direction of Scott Ford, is a funny, well-acted, and ultimately surprisingly moving portrait of a marriage where nostalgia is used to try to ward off the problems of the world.

    Kendra Mueller and Kyler Chase play Judy and Johnny, a middle-class British couple who live a near-perfect representation of wholesome 1950s sitcom life, with Johnny heading off to work every day with his suit and briefcase and Judy serving as the homemaker. The issue is, this isn’t the 1950s – it’s the present day, and Judy and Johnny are deliberately aping the 50s as a lifestyle choice. A lot of comedy comes from their interactions with others such as the family friend Fran (Siri Hellerman) who is proud of her job but more than a little tempted to join in the facade and Judy’s radical feminist mother Sylvia (Patti Hynes-McCarthy) who is gobsmacked her daughter would choose to live what she sees as a regressive existence. But even the comedic scenes between them have an underlying sense of tension. Judy staying at home and maintaining the house with its period-accurate 50s appliances (represented in a colorful and meticulously-realized multi-layer set designed by Ren Edson) means she doesn’t get a lot of interaction with the real world, and you almost get the sense Judy is trying to seal herself off, until the real world starts coming for her. Fran tells Judy that she saw Johnny having lunch at the local shopping center with a young woman, which Judy tries to brush off but can’t quite. On top of that, it costs a lot of money to live the life of a 1950s sitcom, and the couple are counting on Johnny receiving a promotion soon in order to stay comfortable and happy.

    The more Judy and Johnny find themselves in contact with the rest of the world, the more their own lifestyle begins to fray. One turning point is a scene where they invite Johnny’s new boss over for drinks. The boss in this case is Alex (Izzy Maxwell), the woman Johnny was seen having lunch with. This creates an uncomfortable parody of the typical sitcom plot, laced with tension as the couple try to ingratiate themselves with her while also explaining their choices to live in the 50s to this fully modern woman, all while Judy tries to gauge exactly what the relationship between Johnny and Alex is. Another is when Fran’s husband Marcus (Charlie Morgan) is suspended from his job due to allegations of sexual misconduct, which of course was the sort of thing that just wasn’t talked about in the 1950s.

    A lot of credit should go to director Ford and his cast for maintaining a tonal balance here – this is a show that could easily go wrong. Play the sitcom parody too broadly and the real-world stuff doesn’t wouldn’t fit. Lean too hard into the dramatic material and the sitcom parody would either come across in bad taste or like some kind of cult. But what we get is a very funny show that nonetheless carries the effective dramatic throughline of a couple trying to find ways to keep their marriage healthy. Mueller and Chase have excellent chemistry, and you truly get the sense that they care for each other. The show’s set transitions go a long way towards maintaining the comedic elements of the show’s tone, with the performers literally dancing as they move props and pieces on and off. There’s also a barnstorming moment in the second act where Sylvia unloads on Judy and Fran in an extended monologue about what life in the 1950s was really like, not the sitcommy version Judy has been living (“the 50s didn’t even look like this in the 50s!”), reminding them of all the ugliness and difficulty that the aesthetics of the period tried to hide. It’s such a standout moment for Patti Hynes-McCarthy (one that generated spontaneous applause from my audience) that you almost expect the show will wrap up soon after – after all, what else it there to say? But the actual ending of the show is still a while coming, and it comes in a surprisingly straightforward way: Judy and Johnny sit down and talk. No punchlines, no plot contrivances, just two people who love each other trying to figure out how to make it work. It’s such a mature and thoughtful way to wrap things up, and I found myself genuinely moved.

    I had almost no knowledge of Home, I’m Darling going in, and even then it was vastly different from what I was expecting. But what I got was ultimately more complicated, challenging, and probably more satisfying than I could have possibly anticipated.

    HOME, I’M DARLING plays at Lyric Arts through June 21st

  • My Ántonia, a new musical having its world premiere at Theatre Latte Da in Minneapolis, is a triumphant production filled with emotion, joy, and humanity. It’s a story that speaks effortlessly about immigrants, the obstacles women face in society, about masculinity, class divides, even art – and it’s all wrapped up in a love story told through gorgeous music and performed by a cast of some of the most talented performers in the Twin Cities.

    Adapted from the novel of the same name by Willa Cather (one I am personally unfamiliar with), the show tells of a pair of families in 19th-century Nebraska, told through the memories of Jim (Tom Reed), reminiscing about his past to his hard-drinking author friend Willa (Em Rosenberg). Most of his memories revolve around Ántonia, the daughter of a family of Czech (or “Bohemian”, as they’re referred to in the show) immigrants who live close to the farm where he lives with his grandparents. This sort of framing device – taken from the novel – is something that can often feel contrived on stage, but as written in Noah Brody’s book and directed by Jessie Austrian it works surprisingly well, mostly because the two of them aren’t just passive narrators. Jim and Willa don’t just tell the story, they also offer commentary as it goes along, with Willa being unafraid to ask Jim questions or confront him about his mistakes. This more dynamic form of narration also partially takes the curse off of a flaw so many stories like this have: that Jim as the POV character is significantly less interesting than Ántonia herself.

    Both Jim and Ántonia are played by three different actors over the course of the show, all seamlessly working together to portray the full span of the lives of these two very different people who nonetheless have a deep and abiding connection. Maddox Tabalba and Lillian Hochman as the youngest versions of the characters give some of the best performances by young actors I’ve seen on stage in recent memory. Both of them get to showcase the whole range of emotions that come from childhood, from joy and silliness to strife and heartbreak. They’re so good that I would have liked to have seen the entire show be built around them. The way the show transitions between the young and adult Ántonia (Sara Masterson) is a remarkable feat of theatre that sweeps you up so completely in the emotion of the moment that you practically forget you’re seeing two different people. The accent work and mannerisms match uncannily well – you truly feel like Ántonia’s spirit has moved from one performer to the other.

    Credit should also go to Will Dusek who plays the adult Jim. He gets the most complicated version of that character of the three, often having difficulty processing his own feelings for Ántonia, which sometimes leads him to lash out in a way that hurts them both. This is in no small part because of the complicated issue of gender dynamics on the prairie. Ántonia shows herself to be as strong and hard-working as any male farmhand, with a spunky and assertive personality to boot. She knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to seek it out. Jim by contrast is more bookish, quiet, and seemingly content to follow the path set for him by society. He looks at Ántonia and yearns not just for her romantically but also for her independence. But there are moments when Ántonia’s independence gets her in trouble – she’s still a woman in turn-of-the-century Nebraska, after all, and reputation matters a lot. There are men who she finds herself linked professionally or romantically to that people in town know won’t work out well for her, but either because of her own stubbornness or because of a reluctantance of people to disrupt the town’s dynamic by speaking up, Ántonia stays with them, at least until she can’t anymore. There’s one key scene where Jim tries to protect Ántonia from her shady employer, and it goes wrong in such a horrific way that it drives a wedge between them that he fears might never be fixed.

    All of this would be an emotional and heartrending story all on its own, but this is a musical, with an indie/folk flavored score composed by The Kilbanes (Lucille Loertel and Drama Desk award-nominated for their previous musical Weightless) and music direction by Jason Hansen, and it’s beautiful. Every song fits the setting and mood perfectly, from the joyful “Name, What Name” and “Hired Girls” to the mournful “Lay Your Burden Down” and suspenseful “Snake in the Garden”. Contrast this with something like The Great Gatsby that revels in its jazz age setting but has a score that sounds like any number of other contemporary musicals. In My Antonia the songs, whether they serve to move the story forward, deepen our understanding of a character, or simply set the mood, are always a joy to listen to. This is helped, obviously, by being performed by such a wonderful cast. Aside from the previously mentioned Reed, Masterson, Dusek, and Rosenberg, the cast also includes such local mainstays as Sally Wingert, Bradley Greenwald, Emily Gunyou Halaas, and Anna Hashizume. You can tell they all care deeply for this material – it creates an infectious feeling of love that emanates from the stage. There’s always a sense of joy that comes from discovering something new and special, and that’s what I felt through every minute of My Ántonia.

    MY ÁNTONIA plays at the Ritz Theatre in Minneapolis through July 12th