Past Reviews

Regional Reviews: San Francisco/North Bay


Ride the Cyclone
New Conservatory Theatre Center
Review by Patrick Thomas

Also see Patrick's review of The Play That Goes Goes Wrong


Kaylyn Dowd and Jon Gary Harris
Photo by Jenni Chapman
How does this sound for an evening of theatre?: A group of teens on a show choir trip find themselves at the Wonderville Amusement Park. The kids climb aboard the park's roller coaster, the Cyclone, which promptly fails at its highest point, flinging the teens to their death. They are then instantly transported to a sort of limbo, where their situation is explained to them by The Amazing Karnak, a mechanical fortune-telling machine that can accurately predict the exact moment of a person's death–unless it has been set to "Family Fun Novelty Mode," which Karnak has been. Nonetheless, Karnak (played here with a delightful robotic cheeriness by Kaylin Dowd) still has quite a lot of insight to share with the confused newly-dead.

Sound like light-hearted fun? No, well, get yourself to Ride the Cyclone, which opened this week at the New Conservatory Theatre Center, and you will discover that the show filled with lots of humor (only some of it dark), some lovely songs, and a sweet message about friendship and making the most of one's brief time on earth–whether that ends at 17 or 117.

The set, by Matt Owens, is delightfully spooky, with sections of mangled coaster track adorning the proscenium, and an abyss-like opening upstage featuring a projectable surface that is used to clever ends by projection designer Lana Palmer.

The show opens in a rather macabre way, with a headless girl, back to the audience, singing the haunting "Dream of Life": "I know this dream of life is never-ending. It goes around and round and round again. You know the sun is rising while descending–it goes on and on and never ends."

Once the the five teens–all in the uniforms of St. Casein's Catholic school–arrive in limbo, where they are under the control of Karnak, they learn one of them will have the chance to be brought back to life on Earth. But only one. Instantly, one of the teens–Ocean O'Connell Rosenberg (raised by "far left of center humanists" and confirmed in the Catholic Church and bat mitzvah-ed at the local synagogue the same week–but "doesn't like to brag about it because it upsets my Buddhist sensibilities") steps up to sing about why she should be the one given a second chance. After all, she has a perfect GPA, plays sports, and participates in many extracurricular activities. It's almost as if she's applying to a top-tier college, and her song, "What the World Needs" is like an admissions essay. Ocean is played with delightful superiority and bubbly teen energy by Anne Norland. (Ocean's favorite record is an album from Up With People, a squeaky clean youth singing troupe that had some popularity in the 1960s and '70s, though from an acquaintance of mine who toured as a member of the group told me it was a hotbed of homosexuality!)

Over the course of 90 intermission-less minutes, all of the kids get a chance to express themselves through song. Noel Gruber (Jon Gary Harris), the only gay kid in the small Canadian town of Uranium City, bemoans his plight: "Being gay in a small town is like having a computer in the stone age–you can have one, but there's no where to plug it in." Noel dreams of being a tragic French prostitute in the early 20th century, modeling his persona, Monique Gibeau, after Marlene Dietrich's portrayal of Lola Lola in the classic German art film, The Blue Angel.

Mischa Bachinski (Matt Skinner) is a Ukrainian adoptee who came to Canada under false pretenses and is shunned by his adoptive parents. To express his angst, he turns to "self-aggrandizing commercialized hip-hop," rapping "This Song Is Awesome" with the help of some T-Pain style auto-tune. At the other end of the rage spectrum is Constance Blackwood (Sage Alberto), Ocean's BFF, mainly because she lets Ocean push her around. Her catchphrase, as determined by Karnak is "sorry." (Ocean's catchphrase is "democracy rocks!") Constance is always looking to slink off into the background and please everyone, an impossibility she nonetheless attempts.

Ricky Potts (Milo Roland), who was mute in life (due to childhood illness), finds a voice in this afterlife and tells of of the fantasy existence he constructed for himself as the savior for a planet of cat people, in his song "Space Age Bachelor Man," which find him in a glorious silver lamé bodysuit, serenading his feline subjects. (Costumes by Jorge R. Hernández)

Then there is the headless girl from the opening scene, identified as "Jane Doe," as he head was never found after the accident and no one came to claim her body. In limbo, Jane uses the head of a doll to replace her own, and Grace Margaret Craig, who plays Jane Doe, sports a curly blonde wig and brightly rouged cheeks with long, long eyelashes like something out of a slasher film where an evil doll kills off its owners one by one.

The cast assembled by director Stephanie Temple is one of the best to ever grace the NCTC stage. The players have a marvelous time diving into their roles, milking both the comedy and the teen angst present in the songs and book by Jacob Richmond and Brooke Maxwell. There's not an off-key voice in the bunch, but two performers stand a little taller than the rest. Grace Margaret Craig has an operatic soprano with such a lovely tone and strong musicality that I wouldn't be surprised if she one day ends up onstage down Van Ness Avenue from NCTC at SF's War Memorial Opera House. If Sage Alberto ends up anywhere outside the world of musical theatre, it would be in rock or soul clubs, so bluesy and wrought with emotion are her vocals.

Ride the Cyclone is as thrilling as the title suggests. But it's also very funny, a little heart-warming, and even a little subversive. It's also well worth buying a ticket for this attraction, as it's a ride you don't want to miss.

Ride the Cyclone runs through October 27, 2024, at New Conservatory Theatre Center, Decker Theatre, 25 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco CA. Performances are Wednesdays-Saturdays at 8:00pm and Sundays at 2:00pm. Tickets are $25-$65 For tickets and information, please visit NCTCSF.org or call 415-861-8972.