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‘Live as you are’

Joplin bio-musical recreates rock legend concert experience

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Mary Bridget Davies, Janis Joplin, Arena Stage

‘One Night With Janis Joplin’
Arena Stage
1101 6th Street, SW
Through Nov. 4
Tickets: $45-$94

Mary Bridget Davies, Janis Joplin, Arena Stage

Mary Bridget Davis as Janis Joplin in the Arena Stage production of ‘One Night with Janis Joplin.’ (photo by Janet Macoska; courtesy Arena)

Classic rock fans love pondering what might have become of the greats had they lived. If you really know the history and their personalities, informed prognosticating on what might have been likely makes for great barstool conversation.

For Janis Joplin, it’s hard to say. With a woman so known for her give-it-everything — detractors called it histrionic — delivery, what kind of singer and performer would she have become had she not ODed in 1970?

Mary Bridget Davies has a few thoughts and having researched Joplin’s life for two different stage productions and fronted a rock band herself, she’s in a pretty good position to imagine.

“It’s really a shame she died when she did, not just because it’s sad she died of course, but I really do think she was onto something musically just then,” the 34-year-old Cleveland resident says. “When you think about what came along in music just after that with the Allman Brothers and that whole southern rock thing, it’s a shame she missed that whole movement because I really think she could have been the mama of that. You hear some of that on ‘Pearl,’ like with ‘Bobby McGee.’ I definitely think she would have stayed in music as long as she could because it absolutely was her passion.”

Davies reprises her role as Joplin in “One Night With Janis Joplin” which had a successful summer run in Cleveland and is at Arena Stage in Washington through Nov. 4.

During a lengthy phone chat last week, Davies says several scenarios for what might have been Joplin’s fate in a parallel universe are feasible — the legendary singer might have blown out her voice irreparably in time, gone more heavily into the blues she loved, mellowed out some vocally to pace herself or become a southern rock headliner. Part of the mystique, of course, is that we’ll never know.

The “One Night” show — which its creators say is as much a concert as a play — doesn’t pretend to guess. Rather it recreates Joplin’s live concerts — in a way — while including her influences and thoughts.

Playwright Randy Johnson, who’s written successful shows on other late music icons such as Elvis Presley, Conway Twitty and Patsy Cline, says the show sidesteps the pratfall of possibly becoming a cheesy tribute band-type production because he had access to Joplin’s art, letters and diaries.

Randy Johnson, One Night with Janis Joplin

Playwright Randy Johnson. (photo by Eric La Cour; courtesy Arena)

“Most of those types of shows are created more from a fan perspective as opposed to a true biographical perspective,” the gay, Los Angeles-based playwright says. “I’ve never done a show that didn’t have the support of the family. I wouldn’t do it. Because if you read a biography without the family’s input, what you’re really reading is an opinion.”

The two-hour show, which finds Davies and a live band tearing through 22 Joplin classics, is pared down from its original length. Johnson opened the show in Portland and found he could streamline the piece after seeing how audiences absorbed it. Any overlap in what was being said versus sung was cut.

Davies was an understudy for the Cleveland production at first, but eventually took over when actress Cat Stephani, who got good reviews as Janis in the Portland production, bowed out just before the Cleveland opening.

Davies says she thinks her predecessor “seemed really run down.” She understands to a point — reproducing Joplin’s no-holds-barred vocal fire eight shows a week could ruin almost anyone’s voice. Even Joplin herself didn’t do that — shows in the classic rock era weren’t the two-hour-or-more marathons they became later with acts like Bruce Springsteen. Neither was Joplin playing eight shows a week.

Davies says while donning the Joplin stage garb can yield a feeling of invincibility — “You step out in those beads and velvet pants and that little waist band thing might as well have guns in it. It’s like you’re totally the sheriff in these parts.” — she does have to pace herself. Being a singer herself, she travels and records with her own blues/rock eponymous outfit, helps. She also played Joplin in the show “Love Janis” in 2005 and tours sometimes with Joplin’s old band Big Brother and the Holding Company.

“I take very good care of myself from a health standpoint,” she says. “Sure, there’s a part of me that would love to go out after the show and have 10 drinks and smoke a pack of cigarettes, but you just can’t do that when you have to do it six more times that week.”

Johnson says he knew Davies would be great in the part.

“You really can’t approach this from a musical theater background,” he says. “You can’t just kind of wink at the audience and fake your way through it. Mary Bridget has Janice in her DNA. … The ones who came in (to audition) with the boas and so on usually don’t make it past 16 notes. She came in in a nice shirt and jeans, opened her mouth and just blew the whole table away.”

Oddly, Davies remembers Liza Minnelli being at the table during her audition.

“I think a lot of the girls buckled under her presence,” she says. “She and Randy are friends. She was sitting there, leaning in at the stage table, all smiles like the best stage mom you could ever ask for.”

For Johnson, who was approached by Joplin’s two siblings (who manage her estate) in 2009 about the possibility of doing a show, Joplin still has something to say even all these decades later.

While he fully acknowledges she had “demons,” he says the “drugs and craziness were only about 10 percent” of her life. When studying her writings, he discovered a “very gentle spirit with a great sense of humor who was not bullshitting anybody.”

A 1950s conformist hangover made it a lot tougher to do so in that era, he says.

“It wasn’t easy but she simply spoke and sung her own truth and audiences were drawn to that.”

Though the show doesn’t address Joplin’s bisexuality, Johnson says her story has a message for gays today.

“If you listen very carefully to the show, she’s telling you to be yourself,” he says. “Don’t bullshit yourself, don’t bullshit anybody else and live it while you can. You can lie but eventually it comes out, so I think her message is to simply live as you are.”

 

 

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Sports

English soccer bans transgender women from women’s teams

British Supreme Court last month ruled legal definition of woman limited to ‘biological women’

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(Photo by Kirill_M/Bigstock)

The organization that governs English soccer on Thursday announced it will no longer allow transgender women to play on women’s teams.

The British Supreme Court on April 16 ruled the legal definition of a woman is limited to “biological women” and does not include trans women. The Football Association’s announcement, which cites the ruling, notes its new policy will take effect on June 1.

“As the governing body of the national sport, our role is to make football accessible to as many people as possible, operating within the law and international football policy defined by UEFA (Union of European Football Associations) and FIFA,” said the Football Association in a statement that announced the policy change. “Our current policy, which allows transgender women to participate in the women’s game, was based on this principle and supported by expert legal advice.”

“This is a complex subject, and our position has always been that if there was a material change in law, science, or the operation of the policy in grassroots football then we would review it and change it if necessary,” added the Football Association.

The Football Association also acknowledged the new policy “will be difficult for people who simply want to play the game they love in the gender by which they identify.”

“We are contacting the registered transgender women currently playing to explain the changes and how they can continue to stay involved in the game,” it said.

The Football Association told the BBC there were “fewer than 30 transgender women registered among millions of amateur players” and there are “no registered transgender women in the professional game” in England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland.

The Scottish Football Association, which governs soccer in Scotland, is expected to also ban trans women from women’s teams.

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Theater

Theatre Prometheus spreads queer joy with ‘Galatea’

Two girls dressed as boys who find love despite the odds

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Cate Ginsberg as Phillida and Amber Patrice Coleman as Galatea (Photo by Charlotte Hayes)

‘Galatea’
Through May 10
Theatre Prometheus
Montgomery College Cultural Arts Center
7995 Georgia Ave, Silver Spring, Md.
$27
Theatreprometheus.org

In a timely move, Theatre Prometheus thought it would be a beneficial thing to spread a little queer joy. And since the company’s mission includes engaging audiences and artists in queer and feminist art, there was nothing to stop them. 

Co-artistic directors Tracey Erbacher and Lauren Patton Villegas, both queer, agree they’ve found that joy in John Lyly’s “Galatea,” an Elizabethan-era comedy about Galatea and Phillida, two girls dressed as boys who find love despite some rather slim odds.  

Now playing at Montgomery College Cultural Arts Center on the Takoma Park/Silver Spring campus, the upbeat offering is a mix of contemporary and period, and strives to make audiences happy. Galatea’s cast includes Amber Coleman and Cate Ginsberg as the besotted pair. 

Erbacher, also the production’s director, adds “queer joy is something that I prioritized in casting actors and interviewing production people. I asked them what it means to them, and resoundingly the reply — from both them and the play — is that queer joy is the freedom to be yourself without having to think about it.

“Galatea” was first brought to Prometheus’s attention by Caitlin Partridge, the company’s literary director. Erbacher recalls, “she strongly suggested I read this very queer play. I read it and fell absolutely in love. And because it’s a comedy — I really like directing comedy — I knew that I could lean into that while not neglecting its universal themes of young love.” 

Villegas, who’s not ordinarily drawn to the classics, was also instantly smitten with Galatea.

“Usually with classics, the language doesn’t jump out at me the way modern works do,” she says. “But not so with ‘Galatea.’ The first time I heard it read aloud, I found it easy to follow and entirely accessible in the best way.”

Whether Lyly deliberately wrote a queer play isn’t known. What’s definitely known is the play was written with an all-boy performing troupe in mind; that’s partly why there are so many young female roles, the parts 10-year-old boys were playing at the time. 

There’s not a lot known about Lyly’s personal life, mostly because he wasn’t wildly famous. What’s known about the times is that there wasn’t a concept of “gay,” but there were sodomy laws regarding homosexual activity in England geared toward men having sex with men; it was all very phallocentric, Erbacher says.

She categorically adds, “Women’s sexuality wasn’t considered in the equation. In fact, it was often asked whether women were even capable of having sex with other women. It just was not part of the conversation. If there wasn’t a dick involved it didn’t count.

“Perhaps that’s how the playwright got around it. If there were two male characters in the play he could not have done it.”

Prometheus has done adaptations of ancient myths and some classics, but in this case it’s very faithful to the original text. Other than some cuts winnowing the work down to 90 minutes, “Galatea” is pretty much exactly as Lyly wrote it. 

And that includes, “girls dressed as boys who fall in love thinking girls are boys,” says Erbacher. “And then they start to clock things: ‘I think he is as I am.’ And then they don’t care if the object of their affection is a boy or a girl, the quintessential bisexual iconic line.” 

And without spoiling a thing, the director teases, “the ending is even queerer than the rest of the play.”

Erbacher and Villegas have worked together since Prometheus’s inception 11 years ago. More recently, they became co-artistic directors, splitting the work in myriad ways. It’s a good fit: They share values but not identical artistic sensibilities allow them to exchange objective feedback.

In past seasons, the collaborative pair have produced an all-women production of “Macbeth” and a queered take on [gay] “Cymbeline,” recreating it as a lesbian love story. And when roles aren’t specifically defined male or female, they take the best actor for the part.  

With Galatea, Prometheus lightens the current mood. Erbacher says, “the hard stuff is important but exhausting. We deserve a queer rom-com, a romantic sweeping story that’s not focused on how hard it is to be queer, but rather the joy of it.”

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Movies

Jacob Elordi rides high in ‘On Swift Horses’

Sony Pictures’ promotions avoid referencing queer sexuality of main characters

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The stars of ‘On Swift Horse.'

You might not know it from the publicity campaign, but the latest big-screen project for breakout “Euphoria” actor and sex symbol Jacob Elordi is 100% a gay love story.

Alright, perhaps that’s not entirely accurate. “On Swift Horses” – adapted from the novel by Shannon Pufahl and directed by Daniel Minahan from a screenplay by Bryce Kass – actually splits its focus between two characters, the other of which is played by “Normal People” star Daisy Edgar-Jones; but since that story arc is centered around her own journey toward lesbian self-acceptance, it’s unequivocally a “Queer Movie” anyway.

Set in 1950s America, at the end of the Korean War, it’s an unmistakably allegorical saga that stems from the marriage between Muriel (Edgar-Jones) and Lee (Will Poulter), a newly discharged serviceman with dreams of building a new life in California. His plans for the future include his brother Julius (Elordi), a fellow war vet whose restlessly adventurous spirit sparks a kindred connection and friendship with his sister-in-law despite a nebulously strained dynamic with Lee. Though the newlyweds follow through with the plan, Julius opts out in favor of the thrill of a hustler’s life in Las Vegas, where his skills as a card shark gain him employment in a casino. Nevertheless, he and Muriel maintain their friendship through correspondence, as he meets and falls in love with co-worker Henry (Diego Calva) and struggles to embrace the sexual identity he has long kept secret. Meanwhile, Muriel embarks on a secret life of her own, amassing a secret fortune by gambling on horse races and exploring a parallel path of self-acceptance with her boldly butch new neighbor, Sandra (Sasha Calle), as Lee clings obliviously to his dreams of building a suburban family life in the golden era of all-American post-war prosperity.

Leisurely, pensive, and deeply infused with a sense of impossible yearning, it’s the kind of movie that might easily, on the surface, be viewed as a nostalgia-tinged romantic triangle – albeit one with a distinctively queer twist. While it certainly functions on that level, one can’t help but be aware of a larger scope, a metaphoric conceit in which its three central characters serve as representatives of three conflicting experiences of the mid-century “American Dream” that still looms large in our national identity. With steadfast, good-hearted Lee as an anchor, sold on a vision of creating a better life for himself and his family than the one he grew up with, and the divergent threads of unfulfilled longing that thwart his fantasy with their irresistible pull on the wife and brother with whom he hoped to share it, it becomes a clear commentary on the bitter reality behind a past that doesn’t quite gel with the rose-colored memories still fetishized in the imagination of so many Americans.

Fortunately, it counterbalances that candidly expressed disharmony with an empathetic perspective in which none of its characters is framed as an antagonist; rather, each of them are presented in a way with which we can readily identify, each following a still-unsatisfied longing that draws them all inexorably apart despite the bonds – tenuous but emotionally genuine – they have formed with each other. To put it in a more politically-centered way, the staunch-but-naive conformity of Lee, in all his patriarchal tunnel vision, does not make him a villainous oppressor any more than the repressed queerness of Muriel and Julius make them idealized champions of freedom; all of them are simply following an inner call, and each can be forgiven – if not entirely excused – for the missteps they take in response to it

That’s not to say that Minahan’s movie doesn’t play into a tried-and-true formula; there’s a kind of “stock character” familiarity around those in the orbit of the three main characters, leading to an inevitably trope-ish feel to their involvement – despite the finely layered performances of Calva and Calle, which elevate their roles as lovers to the film’s two queer explorers and allow them both to contribute their own emotional textures – and occasionally pulls the movie into the territory of melodrama.

Yet that larger-than-life treatment, far from cheapening “On Swift Horses,” is a big part of its stylish appeal. Unapologetically lush in its gloriously photographed recreation of saturated 1950s cinema (courtesy of Director of Photography Luc Montpellier), it takes us willingly into its dream landscape of mid-century America – be it through the golden suburbs of still-uncrowded Southern California or the neon-lit flash of high-rolling Las Vegas, or even the macabre (but historically accurate) depiction of nuclear-age thrill-seekers convening for a party in the Nevada desert to watch an atom bomb detonate just a few short miles away. It’s a world remembered by most of us now only through the memories and artifacts of a former generation, rendered with an artful blend of romance and irony, and inhabited by people in whom we can see ourselves reflected while marveling at their beauty and charisma.

As lovely as the movie is to look at, and as effective as it is in evoking the mix of idealism and disillusionment that defines the America of our grandparents for many of us at the start of the second quarter of the 21st century, it’s that last factor that gives Minahan’s film the true “Hollywood” touch. His camera lovingly embraces the beauty of his stars. Edgar-Jones burns with an intelligence and self-determination that underscores the feminist struggle of the era, and the director makes sure to capture the journey she charts with full commitment; Poulter, who could have come off as something of a dumb brute, is allowed to emphasize the character’s nobility over his emotional cluelessness; Calle is a fiery presence, and Minahan lets her burn in a way that feels radical even today; Calva is both alluring and compelling, providing an unexpected depth of emotion that the film embraces as a chord of hope.

But it is Elordi who emerges to truly light up the screen. Handsome, charismatic, and palpably self-confident, he’s an actor who frankly needs to do little more than walk into the scene to grab our attention – but here he is given, perhaps for the first time, the chance to reveal an even greater depth of sensitivity and truth, making his Julius into the film’s beating heart and undisputed star. It’s an authenticity he brings into his much-touted love scenes with Calva, lighting up a chemistry that is ultimately as joyously queer-affirming as they are steamy.

Which is why Sony Pictures’ promotions for the film – which avoid directly referencing the sexuality of its two main characters, instead hinting at “secret desires” and implying a romantic connection between Elordi and Edgar-Jones – feels not just like a miscalculation, but a slap in the face. Though it’s an eloquent, quietly insightful look back at American cultural history, it incorporates those observations into a wistful, bittersweet, but somehow impossibly hopeful story that emphasizes the validity of queer love.

That’s something to be celebrated, not buried – which makes “On Swift Horses” a sure bet for your must-see movie list.

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