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‘Alive and Well’

Zippy ‘Jacques Brel’ revue a smartly paced sonic treat

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Jacques Brel, Arena Stage

‘Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living In Paris’
Through Oct. 21
MetroStage
1201 North Royal Street, Alexandria
$45-$50 (student and military discounts)
1-800-494-8497

Jacques Brel, Arena Stage

The cast of ‘Jacques Brel,’ a well-staged French revue. (Photo courtesy MetroStage)

Belgian-born singer songwriter Jacques Brel might have joined the family cardboard manufacturing business and lived a life of quiet desperation. Happily, he didn’t. Brel instead escaped to postwar Paris and became the musical voice of his generation, turning out popular French songs about war, death, love, bulls and carousels.

In “Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris,” the best of Brel’s vast songbook is featured in two cabaret-like acts; and lucky for us locals, a topnotch production of the musical is now up and running at MetroStage (Carolyn Griffin’s intimate and estimable playhouse on the edge of Old Town Alexandria) through mid-October.

Translated from the original French by American poet Eric Blau and songwriter Mort Shuman, “Jacques Brel” premiered off-Broadway in 1968. Subsequent successful revivals have run in New York over the years including a 2006 revised production (which MetroStage is presenting).

The show opens with “Le Diable/Ca Va,” a zippy tune noting that the devil rules supreme on earth. And while Brel might believe modern existence is essentially crap, other songs prove he does find some things to savor in life like wit, wistful memories and the exquisite pain of lost love and missed opportunity.

A lot of the music is nostalgic and sounds French (accordion and all), but overall there’s variation ranging from the catchy, bourgeois-denigrating drinking song titled “The Middle Class” to “Next” (a young vet’s sardonic recollection of his experience with camp followers) to Brel’s familiar “Amsterdam,” an earthy ode to the lowly seaman, powerfully sung by Bobby Smith who brilliantly embodies the world-weary boulevardier.

Each of the show’s almost 30 songs is a self-contained story with its own beginning, middle and end all drawn from past romances, reckless youth, disappointment and hard living. Lighting designer Jessica Winfield evocatively sets the mood for each melodic tale and all four cast members are superb storytellers with terrific diction and phrasing to boot. In addition to the aforementioned Smith, the terrific cast includes Natascia Diaz, Bayla Whitten and a shaggy-haired Sam Ludwig.

Diaz performed in the off-Broadway 2006 production and it shows. She gives life to the spirit of Brel’s Paris, capturing the sadness, wit and irony in equal measure. Her heartrending interpretation of “My Death” is not soon forgotten. She’s just as effective singing Brel’s gorgeous Piaf-esque ballad “Ne Me Quitte Pas” (“Don’t Leave Me”) as the quietly potent “Old Folks,” a sort of lullaby about the inevitability of old age and death. Hers is a stunning performance.

The younger cast members Ludwig and Whitten (a lovely soprano) are excellent too. He beautifully inhabits the angry-but-girl crazy young man while she is at turns both naïve and jaded.

This “Jacques Brel” brings together Studio Theatre’s producing artistic director Serge Seiden with Signature Theatre’s associate artistic producer Matthew Gardiner (both gay).  Seiden’s staging is beyond solid. The production moves briskly and seamlessly without ever feeling rushed or forced. Gardiner’s cheery choreography is reserved mostly for the more lighthearted numbers. It’s fun, but more importantly, his dance sequences allow the players to interact in ways that might otherwise appear awkward.

Except for a pole with lights evocative of a street lamp and two simple café chairs that disappear when not needed, the shadowy stage is completely bare. Off to the side, the band (ably led by musical director Jenny Cartney on piano) is visible throughout the show. It could be the late night Parisian club scene where Brel got his start. For the first act, Janine Sunday smartly costumes the cast in vaguely late-‘60s gear, nicely conveying an era of protest and change. Puzzlingly, the second act — sartorially speaking — is more a hodgepodge of castoffs.

Contrary to the title, Brel is neither well nor alive. He died of lung cancer in 1978, but the music endures. Today his songs resonate as strongly as ever. For the uninitiated (which included myself prior to a recent matinee), MetroStage’s stylish effort serves as a marvelous introduction to Brel’s work. It’s also first rate entertainment.

 

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Theater

‘Feeling Afraid’ explores life of a neurotic stand-up comic

Navigating sex, work, and possibly love in London

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Steven Webb in ‘Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible Is Going To Happen’ (Photo by DJ Corey)

‘Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible Is Going to Happen’
Through July 12
Studio Theatre
1501 14th St., N.W.
$55-$102
Studiotheatre.org

Wordily yet rightly titled, solo show “Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible Is Going To Happen” dives deeply into the world of a neurotic stand-up comic as he navigates sex, work, and possibly love in London. 

Busy arranging hookups and dates on “The App,” the 36-year-old gay funnyman juggles a full dance card; still he’s never been in a romantic relationship. While he’s willing to give love a shot, he’s not pressed about it. As he says, he harbors no fear of dying alone.

Currently making its American premiere at Studio Theatre, this darkly humorous Edinburgh Fringe import features terrific out English actor Steven Webb as The Comedian who’s about to explore what it means to spend all his time with one man. 

At Studio’s intimate Mead Theatre, Kat Heath’s minimal set says standard comedy club (fluorescent tube lighting, the mic with a long cord, a single stool backed by a rose-colored curtain), but gay playwright Marcelo Dos Santos has conjured something much more than a live comedy set. 

Yes, The Comedian bounces onstage in his red Converse high tops, jeans, and pink shirt with a huge mouth emblazoned on the back, but he delivers more than jokes. At times hilariously self-deprecating, then dark, and occasionally a lesson on what makes standup work, this is a layered, well-acted piece.

With Webb (a keen caricaturist of types and voices) playing all the parts while conducting The Comedian’s hilariously frenetic interior monologue, “Feeling Afraid” takes us through a summer of love. It seems after six chaste dates with The American, our nervous hero has found Mr. Right. The American is earnest, smart, hesitant to initiate sex. He’s also well built with a beautiful smile. And strangely, he’s been medically advised not to laugh aloud.  

The Comedian delights in the joys of new love: dates, first kisses, sex, and then suddenly spending all of his time with the adored. Visits to art galleries become fun. Eating home cooked meals followed by grim documentaries is a thing. The Comedian is beguiled as his own boyish figure fills out, but something isn’t right. He can’t entirely relax.

Along the way we meet the Aussie doctor, our protagonist’s longtime hookup; a young runner with some exceptional body parts; the random third in a failed threesome; grumpy working comics, male and female; and an ineffectual counselor. 

Webb gives a lightning-fast performance that boggles the mind (in terms velocity and virtuosity). He can be impish, very impish. He’s nervous energy incarnate, flashing jazz hands, grimacing but handsome when still. He’s likeable, a necessity when delivering a hilariously rude joke just feet away from two stone-faced audience members. (Perhaps they were laughing on the inside? At any rate, they stayed through the end the show.)

Produced by the team behind Fringe hits “Fleabag” and “Baby Reindeer,” small stage works that were developed into major TV screen successes, “Feeling Afraid” is funny for sure, and it’s also highly confessional, sexually explicit, and raw.

Written by Dos Santos during COVID lockdown, the piece was a smash hit in the 2022 Edinburgh Fringe before finding further success in London. Its depiction of a youngish queer guy navigating the big city rings entirely true. Like so much Fringe stuff, the one-man show is delightfully lewd and standup inspired.

One little moan: the show closes cleverly but too abruptly with its star dashing offstage without sufficiently basking in the admiration and applause of his thoroughly chuffed audience.

They say third time’s a charm, and regarding “Feeling Afraid,” I’d agree. After two performance cancellations (first for laryngitis and the second involving faulty air conditioning on an especially muggy June evening), I made my third trek to Studio where I found both the actor and AC in very fine fettle. And truly, Webb’s work was more than worth the wait.

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Photos

PHOTOS: Baltimore Pride Festival

LGBTQ celebration held at Druid Hill Park

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A scene from the 2026 Baltimore Pride Festival. (Washington Blade photo by Linus Berggren)

The 2026 Baltimore Pride Festival, “Pride in the Park,” was held at Druid Hill Park on Sunday, June 14.

(Washington Blade photos by Linus Berggren)

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Movies

‘Stop! That! Train!’ is made for fans, but fun for all

RuPaul stars as President Gagwell trying to avert a tragedy

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RuPaul and Matt Rogers star in ‘Stop! That! Train!’ (Photo courtesy of World of Wonder/Bleecker Street)

Before I can begin a review of “Stop! That! Train!” (the movie that’s been algorithmically dominating your queer social media feed in the form of ads for weeks now), I feel it’s necessary to provide a disclaimer: I am not a superfan of “RuPaul’s Drag Race.”

That doesn’t mean I’m NOT a fan, mind you. I’m just disclosing that I have never been the loyal viewer for whom each new episode is the highlight of the week, or followed the careers of the contestants I loved the most; I don’t know who won each season, or how many times they’ve been on the show. I barely even know any of the catch phrases. I say all this because you should know that, as someone who didn’t get any of the show references I’ve been told were laced throughout the movie, I’m probably not the person RuPaul and filmmaker Adam Shankman had in mind when they were making it.

I do, however, respect and adore the art of drag, not just as an expression of queer identity tied to a long tradition stretching back centuries, but as a powerful tool for satire. It’s a queer-eyed view that exposes the hypocritical norms and mainstream social “morality” in a form that goes right over the heads of anyone who isn’t in on the joke, and the Queens of “Drag Race” not only honor that tradition but live up to it. Make no mistake, the queer spirit of rebellion is alive and well in “Stop! That Train!” – even if it sometimes feels like it’s just along for the ride.

Mounted as a parody of old-school “disaster movies” – a genre that found its heyday in the same ‘70s and ‘80s period that also saw the success of classic movie spoofs like “Young Frankenstein” and “Airplane!” (which clearly serves as the primary blueprint) – Shankman’s film seems driven by an impulse toward the absurd as a kind of de facto social commentary, but puts the most emphasis on landing its jokes. It imagines a contemporary world where high-speed train travel is an actual thing in America (wouldn’t that be nice?) and a Black drag queen can be elected president (OK, maybe she’s a cisgender woman in context of the plot, but still), but in which everything is pretty much just as “off the rails” as it really is, anyway.

In the middle of it all are Tess and DeeDee (Ginger Minj and Jujubee, both popular “Drag Race” veterans), two “train stewardesses” who fake their way into jobs on the prestigious “Glamazonian Express” railway line and face hostility from the “mean girl” attendants who work there. The popularity contest soon takes a back seat, however, when the train finds itself speeding into a catastrophic “storm-o-ganza,” and they’re faced with the challenge of saving themselves – along with the train’s assortment of passengers – from all-but-certain doom. Fortunately, they’re not alone; under-appreciated train dispatcher Donna Dusk (Rachel Bloom) is doing her best to guide them from afar toward the least catastrophic outcome, and no less than American President Judy Gagwell (RuPaul Charles, of course) takes a personal interest in averting the disaster; after all, it could take a few points off of her popularity rating if she doesn’t. Can this plucky alliance of women-with-something-to-prove shepherd this runaway train (and everyone on board) to safety? Of course they can, and in the most ridiculous way possible.

Like the aforementioned “Airplane!” (the zany 1980 farce that was itself modeled after the popular “Airport” series of all-star disaster epics), “Stop! That! Train!” takes an approach to comedy that’s more like facing a high-speed pitching machine in a batting cage than watching a movie in a theater; it’s one joke after another, thrown rapid fire against the wall on the theory that at least some of them will stick – a time-honored tradition that, admittedly, results in a lot of them that dont. For every belly laugh, there’s a real groaner, and a fair number of the chuckles are “polite” ones, at best; but that, of course, is part of the appeal. Screenwriters Christina Friel and Connor Wright skew their humor toward the lowbrow – something the popular drag movement fully embraces, anyway – and make most of their characters into clowns as they freely transplant plot points and tropes into their ludicrous scenario; all of it’s on purpose, and most of it works, because this is the kind of movie that is intended to be as “stupid” as possible and we wouldn’t want it any other way.

Of course, some viewers will inevitably be underwhelmed by the movie’s humor; its borrowed tropes may feel less funny for being too familiar, sometimes the “lowbrow” might edge too closely on the “tasteless,” and the overall spirit of “bitchiness” could easily come across as just plain “mean” if one is in the wrong mood. Let’s face it, though: most of those people will probably not be going to see “Stop! That! Train!,” anyway. For the rest of us, even if more of its jokes fall flat than we might hope and some of the zingers don’t have the “zing” that they should, there’s still a cumulative effect that leaves the impression of a whole being greater than its parts. After all, sometimes we just want to have brainless fun at the movies instead of having to think too much about it, and nobody was expecting an Oscar-winner, were they?

As for the disaster movie plot, it’s impossible to take seriously, of course, but it does provide the opportunity to showcase a lot of characters – and caricatures – along the way. Minj and Jujubee are essentially the stars of the show, and their easy chemistry together helps them carry the film; RuPaul, every inch the superstar as ever, strides confidently into his presidential role and rightfully dominates every scene that he’s in, yet is graceful enough not to overwhelm or overshadow the work of his co-stars, especially Matt Rogers, who, as President Gagwell’s possibly psychopathic press secretary and confidante, shares more screen time with him than anyone else. 

Veteran comic actor (and “SNL” alumnus) Chris Parnell uses his hilariously deadpan lunacy to great advantage as the train’s conductor, and Brian Jordan Alvarez (“The English Teacher”) brings a smarmy charm as the co-conductor who doesn’t know how to operate a train – despite the questionable choice of using an exaggerated “Bill and Ted” era Keanu Reaves impression for his character’s voice. There’s a whole gallery of familiar faces on hand in bit parts and cameos as passengers on the train, who arguably provide more genuine comedy and interest than the main storyline. And even if she never sets foot on the train herself, Bloom (“Crazy Ex-Girlfriend”) is every bit on board for the ride, serving as a grounding force even as she gives herself over completely to the silliness.

And silly it certainly is. It’s as insubstantial as the AI-generated backgrounds used to create the action scenes of speeding train and the storm. And at the risk of repeating myself, we wouldn’t have it any other way.

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