‘Curtains’ @ Allen Contemporary Theatre

Photos by Laura Jennings

—Ryan Maffei

Allen Contemporary Theatre’s Curtains is a Kander and Ebb deep cut. Well, deeper than Cabaret or Chicago (and yes, they wrote shows that didn’t start with a C), with a better-than-dinner-theatre book by Rupert “If You Like Piña Coladas” Holmes. The musical burlesques both Broadway and murder mysteries, with a cute twist that the hardboiled police detective on the case dreams of being in musical theatre himself. The songs are jazzy (sometimes) snazzy (mostly) ready-mades, including one about how all critics are idiots unless they like your work. (They already had me before they went into that one, though their critic character is an odious ratboy Brit, whereas I am a charming ratboy American.)

There are about nine gazillion characters, and in one of its characteristic magic tricks, ACT has found excellent actors to inhabit every single one of them, with crackerjack direction by Laura Jennings and maybe the best vocal-music balance I’ve ever heard.

You could watch any member of the ensemble the whole time and come away having seen a great show – Charlotte Dameron or Lidia Leon or Isabella Wilson or Catherine Hesse or Hazel Lindsey, or Jackson Anthony and Braden Chavers, who are in a queer lovers’ spat, or Makenna Baker, who stomps on a few times as a deputy in full hat and trenchcoat, doing an Irish or Scottish accent (doesn’t matter which) for absolutely no reason. As in A Chorus Line, which this show is a lot better than because it doesn’t take itself seriously at all, a few members get to step forward: sidesplitting Tara Bryant, who starts off playing an ill-fated, Jennifer Coolidge-esque diva, or Brendan Tetter, so charismatic that every extra bit he’s given is a highlight.

Dale Moon and Rachel Velasco’s spare set and scenic design is all it needs to be; Alison Schonhoff raided ACT’s trunks and closets for pieces that scream “stock.” And bouquets must be thrown to music director Jared Duncan and sound designer/engineer Bill Sizemore: the vocal arrangements sparkle and I swear to god, you can hear everything perfectly in a space that should swallow it all. Allison Larrea double-dutied as stage manager and intimacy choreographer, two of the hardest jobs in the biz, and Ken Davis lit this stark and blackout-happy show just right, with Mike Shisko manning the boards.

Geoffrey Dail may have been everywhere: he’s credited with graphic design and sound design, plus key sound effects, house music we weren’t bored by, and board operation in his spare time. And there is a lot of dancing in this show! A lot of kicking, especially. Choreographer Becca Tischer and dance captain Katie O’Brien bring everyone sublimely into line.

Now that I’ve gotten all the little people on whose backs a great show was built out of the way, let’s do a roll call of prime suspects, shall we? First, the cop: Eddy Herring is perfect as Lieutenant Frank Cioffi, and looks straight out of central casting, as some dictator whose name I can’t recall used to say. In a show full of trained voices, his plain, vibratoless singing suits his character wonderfully, and he hits every note like a sharpshooter. Acting-wise, the comedy and pathos are well under his arrest (I don’t care, call the wordplay police), and it’s a special experience to watch a wildly gifted actor play someone who’s just happy to be near a stage. He holds the show together, but as one stellar performance in a galaxy of talent. Herring has stuck to Allen’s small pond, though he’s professionally represented, but it’s clear he’d be a major asset to any theatre in DFW, as would many of the following performers.

Emily Fabrega is as sweet and radiant as her guileless ingenue Niki Harris is meant to be, but she’s also hilarious—watch the little contortions her face goes through in milliseconds over the nonsense around her. Shea McMillan is flawlessly grounded as lyricist-turned-star Georgia Hendricks, an atypical type you figure was Fred Ebb’s idea. She sings beautifully, and often resonates as the most believably human presence in a stage full of wondrous caricatures. I knew, meeting Amy Foster Parsons after the Godspell she directed, that she had to act too, and here she is, absolutely nailing it as a producer’s wife and stage mom. Parsons has total “local Patti LuPone (except a lot nicer)” energy. And as the heartbreaking composer, Blake Rice does the strongest singing in the entire show. Alongside McMillan, Rice functions as the tender, low-key eye in a hurricane of hysterical absurdities.

Scott Hickman is another central-casting coup, doing an excellent double act with Parsons before he’s offed and reincarnated wearing the most gloriously horrible wig I’ve ever seen in my life. (This is the fate of characters who die along the way—playing a spot in the ensemble, in a wig so bad being buried in it would put you in the first circle of Hell.) Mario Estep steals the show every time he e-steps on stage (fire me, Jan). He never stops mincing, and the meal he makes of every last syllable is just sumptuous. Katie O’Brien applies her Radio Disney/ secret-switchblade energy to a Jean Hagen accent and a series of spot-on scowls. Beau Dameron was recently the titular villain in ACT’s Moriarty, and here he’s the opposite, a neurotic producer with swollen sinuses and comic timing strong enough to shove a detective off a waterfall. Jennifer Grace is plucky, Michael McMillan is smarmy, Alex Castle is repellent, and all three are great.

Let’s see, how shall we close this out? It’s no MYSTERY that ACT’s Curtains is a must-see. I have a strong SUSPICION that you will enjoy it. Laura Jennings and her crew certainly don’t MURDER this material; in fact with great powers of deduction they unearth several SECRET layers that make it at least as enjoyable to watch as it was in 2006, when things were also bad enough for a timeless pick-me-up to be just what the police captain ordered. [????] Dane Cook was the most popular comedian in the world, for goodness’ sake! But I digress. [Editor: Yes, you do digress, sir. Please see me in my “office.”]

There’s no better way to end this review, surely, than to quote the show’s skewering of theatre critics, “What Kind of Man”…

What kind of mom would raise her boy like that?
Who’d want her baby to destroy like that?
Who could be jerk enough
Hard up for work enough
To want a job like that?

Ohhhhhhhhhh, what kind of low down dirty bum
Ohhhhhhhhhh, what kind of swine-ish scurvy scum
Loathsome as they come, I wonder

What kind of man would want a job like that?
Well, to be fair, it’s not like I’m getting paid.
Go see Curtains! It’s the kind of show we critics do this for.

WHEN: June 27-July 13, 2025
WHERE: ACT, 1210 East Main Street, #300, Allen TX
WEB: allencontemporarytheatre.net