"Tuna Christmas" Kicks Off Season of Holiday Plays

Topher Payne Plays 13 Roles in Single Performance

by Jim Farmer, Southern Voice

A trio of holiday-themed plays open within the next week, all written by gay men and all featuring gay actors in leading roles. Just before Atlanta sees long runs of “The Santaland Diaries” and “A Queer Carol,” the one-week run of “A Tuna Christmas,” the perennial favorite starring two actors who play a whole town of characters, stops in as part of a national tour.

Local playwright, actor and columnist Topher Payne is one of the two stars of “Tuna,” which opened locally on Nov. 19 and plays through Nov. 23 at ART Station in Stone Mountain. The show is the popular follow-up to “Greater Tuna,” taking place in the third smallest town in Texas. In this show, hell breaks loose as a community theater’s production of “A Christmas Carol” and the annual yard-decorating contest go awry.

Payne and his co-star Jef Holbrook play all 24 characters, and Payne portrays 13 of them — from a 10-year-old boy to a 90-year-old grandmother. Approximately half of the characters are women. Although “Tuna” is considered a widely recognized as a two-man piece, Payne gives extra credit to two crew members.

“It’s really a four person show,” he says. “We have two dressers, and they deserve credit for dressing us, sometimes within seconds.”

Payne says the play’s humor hits a nerve with a wide audience.

“It’s not just about life in Texas or the South,” he says. “People know and recognize these people. Small towns are small towns.”

The Springer Opera House in Columbus is producing the tour.

"Notes" on Atlanta Scandal

by Dyana Bagby, Southern Voice

Atlanta playwright, actor, activist and David Atlanta Magazine columnist Topher Payne stops in at Outwrite Bookstore & Coffeehouse today to sign copies of his first book of collected essays, “Necessary Luxuries: Notes on a Semi-fabulous Life.”
Compiled from his “Maybe It’s Just Me” David columns as well as plenty of new material, Payne’s book is sure to be a hit with fans of the man willing to share every detail of his life — and the details of the lives of his friends, including George, Slutty Mandy and soon-to-be-husband, Preppy.
Payne’s reading and signing is at 7:30 p.m. Outwrite is located at 991 Piedmont Ave. Call 404-607-0082 or visit www.outwritebooks.com for more information.

Grotesquiana

By Brad Rudy, Atlanta Theatre Buzz

REVIEW: DON'T LOOK AT THE FAT LADY and ABOVE THE FOLD **** ½

Topher Payne's Two One-Acts, "Don't Look at the Fat Lady" and "Above the Fold" share a fascination with the Grotesqueries found in news headlines and the real people (with all the appropriate hopes and fears and obsessions) just out of sight beneath the screaming headlines. In Process Theatre's capable hands (as directed by DeWayne Morgan), both plays are funny, intriguing, well-acted, and even a bit suggestive of the "Talking Heads" paradigm of TV News and Panel Shows. Together, they make a unified and unique trip to the theatre. But, in its infinite wisdom, the M.A.T. Powers-That-Be have separated them into different productions, so, I'll talk about them as such. After all, I am second to none in my submission to "Powers-That-Be" (Be they Awards Panels or Exploitative News Headline Writers).

Don't Look at the Fat Lady Why not? I can't help it. Imprisoned on her couch, Gloria is grotesque, filthy, obscene in her obesity. She's a Car Wreck on the Side of the Road, a CSI Episode, a live Execution. And, as her story unfolds, she's an immensely ingratiating heroine, a kind hearted soul trapped in a fat suit built more by circumstance than by her own weaknesses (not that she doesn't have any weaknesses). Gloria was always a "plus-sized" girl, living in the shadow (so to speak) of her beautiful sister, obsessively self-deprecating to survive in an obsessively thin-cultured world. But she had the kindness of an angel, living only for the moments when she can care for the children at her church's nursery. A combination of a freak accident, an incompetent doctor, and a neglectful "Might-as-well-be Husband" has led to her current distress-confined to her living room couch for an extended convalescence, she has grown so large she has literally become part of the furniture. Before too long, she (and we) are shocked to discover just how long she has been there and how abandoned she has become. If Topher Payne's script has plot loopholes large enough for Gloria to slip through (If her electricity has been off that long, how does she know about Katie Couric? If she's been alone that long, where did she get the drink she sips at - or is it really an empty glass she sips at by habit and delusion? If she's been alone that long, how large was she when she first had nothing to eat, and, presumably, her body started consuming itself?), his dialog is compelling and funny and ultimately moving. And, in Jo Howarth's hands, Gloria is an eminently likeable woman, so likeable we end up sharing her delusions and accepting the plot holes that accompany her story.
Let's contemplate Ms. Howarth's achievement for a moment here. Here is an actress trapped in a fat suit, unable to move an inch, who must grab our attention and hold it for what is essentially a 60-minute monologue.
She must make us not only understand this woman, but to finally like her and actually care about her fate. That she succeeds so well is not only commendable, but remarkable. This will be the performance to beat come award time next summer. On the production side, this is a small black-box venue (OnStage Atlanta's Mini-Theatre) and a repertory situation, so set design is minimal. On the other hand, the set dressing (stacks and piles of garbage and detritus that seem to be an organic part of the couch) is perfectly realized (I do not envy the crew that has to clear that for the second act of the evening). Nina Gooch's Lighting Design shows a good sense of color and mood (not to mention TV flickers and sudden sunlight), and Jane Koesig's fat-suit costume (which ultimately gives way to an angelic white nightgown) is almost perfect. At the end of the play, Gloria looks at us and says "What? You think fat people only dream about being thin?" Oddly enough, I never thought this. That the people in Gloria's life lead her to this conclusion is a subtle indicator of the circumstances that have brought her to this couch, a condemnation of those who build the "fat-suit" of neglect that becomes her prison. She's better off now that she's left them behind.

Above the Fold If "Don't Look at the Fat Lady" is a "Behind the Headlines" look at a real-life Tabloid Story, "Above the Fold" takes that concept quite literally. Four vignettes offer pithy "outside-of-the-box" glimpses into stories that headline supermarket Tabloids (the stories "Above the Fold" of the front page). Each one could be developed into a full-length one-act (if that's not an oxymoron). As they stand now, writer Topher Payne finds a kernel of depth in each story, developing them just long enough to make his points.
In the first scene, an "ugly duckling" housewife, Darcy (a radiant Amanda Cucher) has had an extreme Make-Over in one of those Reality TV Plastic Surgery grotesqueries. She spends her time preening, checking out her re-done face in any reflective surface, and constantly seeking assurances from her distant husband Jim-Jack (Greg Morris). It doesn't take long for us to realize that Jim-Jack misses the woman he fell in love with, and was more attracted to her inner beauty than her new "perfect" look. In the second scene, we meet Shonda (Jo Howarth), a woman who has been in a "persistent vegetative state" for more than a decade, and who is in the middle of a media circus generated by her feuding husband and parents (sound familiar?). Godfrey (Greg Morris), a flamboyant make-up artist, has come to "fix her up" for the latest media bash. In what amounts to a 15-minute monologue, Godfrey expounds on the nature of beauty and fashion, and all the things she's "missed" over the past decade ("Can you believe Princess Di is actually dead?"). The fact that his conclusion is that she may be better off by missing all the tsuris of the past decade is one of the better ironies of this enjoyable piece. In the third scene (my personal favorite), we're in Michael Jackson's Neverland. Carolyn (Ms. Howarth) is interviewing a mother and son (Ms. Cucher and Mr. Morris) to "contain" any scandal associated with the un-named star's latest indiscretion. From the first, it's obvious that the mother initiated everything to make a quick buck. Of course, the twist here is who is the smartest of three. Finally, in a powerful conclusion, a lesbian couple (Ms. Howarth and Ms. Cucher) recount the events leading up to their quiet friend's violent rampage at the local high school. In an “interview" that reflects their own ostracism, they can't help but wonder, not "why he did it," but "why he waited so long." It is a stark condemnation not only of the societal pressures that lead to such acts of violence, but of the media fascination with the perpetrators of them.
It may be easy to accuse Mr. Payne of being a tad facile with these stories (and, indeed, he may be), but his point is not to develop our understanding of them (or the characters he creates to tell the stories), but to remind us of our own complicity in the "Tabloidization" of our media and news coverage. Has our love of grotesquiana overwhelmed our sense and our shame? Is this, in fact, a self-feeding monster? In a way, it must be. We, as an audience, are fascinated by these situations, by these extremes of human behavior. Yet it is a fascination with the grotesque that causes them. Isn't it? That these vignettes bring these questions to mind is indicative of the success of Mr. Payne's endeavor. The production, as a whole, is quite smoothly put together, with sets and costumes designed to facilitate quick changes, all of which are "covered" by video introductions of the latest scandal "ripped from the headlines."
The actors inhabit the characters with various degrees of success, but always with a skill and conviction that drive the stories forward. Stagingwise, most are static "interview" situations, yet compelling because of their lack of movement. They are, in effect, staged "Talking-Head Documentaries," and are reminiscent of that often mis-used paradigm. These plays, like "Don't Look at the Fat Lady," are funny, moving, and compelling reminders about the extremes that can result from the combination of the most seemingly innocuous events. That they are all based on real tabloid adventures is cause for reflection. Hopefully, what's reflected back isn't as grotesque as what's on stage.

"Golden Girls" Live!

by Richard Eldredge

Atlanta Journal-Constitution

This could be the kookiest fund-raiser of the year. Tonight, Atlanta playwright and actor Topher Payne and his thespian friends will present “The Golden Girls Live!” at Onstage Atlanta at 2597 North Decatur Road in Decatur.

Did we mention that Payne, Greg Morris, DeWayne Morgan and Joey Ellington will all be in wigs, heels and painstakingly recreated frocks from the 1980s NBC sitcom, stitched by Atlanta costume designer Jane Kroessig? Payne has adapted two scripts for the stage originally penned by “Golden Girls” creator Susan Harris.

One hundred percent of the proceeds from tonight and Wednesday’s 8 p.m. performances will go to Atlanta Cotillion, an annual fund-raiser for AID Atlanta. Which means everyone involved is working for free.
“For years, I’ve been told that I’m the Bea Arthur in my group of friends,” Payne told us Monday. “I thought, ‘Let’s make some money off that!’ The frightening thing is that in drag as Bea Arthur I’m more mannish than I am dressed as myself.”

So how did Payne’s pal and Atlanta actor Morris land Rue McClannahan’s coveted signature role of Blanche Devereaux? Replied Payne: “How do you not cast Greg Morris as Blanche? The only major difference is now he’s acting trampy while wearing sling backs.”

All That Glitters

Can't Buy Me Love... Or Can You?

by Curt Holman

Creative Loafing

Valhalla focuses on beauty as its own reward, whether in the form of an architectural wonder, an attractive body or a pink chenille bedspread. The relentlessly quippy playwright of such hits as I Hate Hamlet and Jeffrey, Rudnick reveals deeper ambitions in Valhalla. The play examines the fascination of many gay men with aesthetic beauty, a lifelong obsession for both Bavaria's Ludwig (Topher Payne) in the 19th century and Texas' James Avery (Matt Felten) in the 1930s and '40s. Both have consuming needs for beauty – in people and objects – even as children. In his first scene, James shoplifts a crystal swan as a kleptomaniacal 10-year-old, saying only, "I needed it."
Payne offers a droll and sympathetic portrait of Ludwig, a royal sissy who moons over Wagnerian opera, recoils at ugly servants and remains oblivious to political realities. The Ludwig track offers hilarious, Woody Allen-esque farce, and Jane Kroessing's costumes convey Ludwig's world on a shoestring budget. The James Avery storyline proves more difficult. As a young man, James pursues his desires so directly that he's almost sociopathic. He develops a romantic triangle with a handsome young jock (Greg Morris) and the high school beauty queen (Kate Graham). Graham's amusing role speaks of the responsibility and entitlement of the extremely good-looking: "Inner beauty is tricky because you can't prove it."
Valhalla commits to some weak jokes and peculiar detours under Peter Hardy's direction, including a World War II musical number, "Soldiers Need Seamen," that, despite Felten's musical chops, belongs in a farce about gays in the military. The more Ludwig and James seek transcendence, however, the more intriguing the play becomes. James pursues seemingly unattainable love while Ludwig all but bankrupts his country, putting his throne at risk to build such structures as Neuschwanstein Castle, the model for Sleeping Beauty's castle in Disneyland. In effect, both men want to live in castles in the air, but realities of their times bring them crashing to Earth to suffer fates as brutal as Shylock's.
Valhalla depicts conflicts with the materialistic world at a time when such definitions are becoming more ambiguous. In the 21st century, we live in an increasingly paperless economy, and goods such as music and other forms of entertainment exist in cyberspace, not on our shelves. I'm not sure if that makes prized ephemera more or less valuable, but shows as thought-provoking as Valhalla would be cheap at twice the price.

Swan Song

by Brad Rudy

Atlanta Theatre Buzz

In 1848, Richard Wagner writes his opera Lohengrin, creating time-honored melodies that tell the Arthurian tale of the Knight of the Swans, and his rescue of the fair Elsa.

In 1869, King Ludwig II of Bavaria, a friend to Wagner and lover of all things Lohengrin, begins construction on the magnificent Neuschwanstein (“New Swan Stone”) Castle near Hohenschwangau in Southwest Bavaria.

In the early 1930’s a fictional boy named James Avery steals a glass Swan figurine from a small town Texas Department store because he “really wanted it.”

These seemingly unconnected events form the backbone of Paul Rudnick’s new comedy, “Valhalla,” an examination of love and beauty and music and swans. And it is the opening of this year’s Essential Theatre “Power Play” Festival, an annual gathering of plays freshly written by Georgia Playwrights, or works of established playwrights that are seeing their first Southeastern productions. Mr. Rudnick has built a reputation as a “gay Neil Simon,” writing very accessible plays with gay themes (or, as in “I Hate Hamlet,” gay subtexts) as well as popular movies (such as “In & Out”). With “Valhalla,” he has written a very funny, sometimes moving piece that follows the life and adventures of King Ludwig and the fictional romances of the 20th-century James Avery. All the other characters are played with bravura quick-change ease by a company four, who often switch genders, centuries, and costumes in the space of seconds.

Although I found much to admire and enjoy in this production, I’m not sure Mr. Rudnick completely succeeds at integrating the two stories, and I’m not sure this production takes full advantage of the opportunities that are there. This is really only a vague feeling, leaving me at a loss to articulate specific shortcomings of either playwright or production team. Still, this is a funny (VERY funny) and captivating show, which actually motivated me to find out more about poor Ludwig and his life.

Ludwig, while still a Prince, finds himself isolated from others and in full training for his eventual succession to the throne. He has no one who shares his likes and dislikes, no friends, no confidants, and no desire to make the further acquaintance of any of the ludicrously “wrong”’ Princesses who are paraded before him. But one day, while in the forest, he makes the acquaintance of Princess Sophie of Austria, an equally insecure lady who shares his love for Lohengrin and his dislike for arranged royal engagements. She is also a hunchback, and Ludwig is the first person to ever make her feel beautiful. They remain the best of friends, even after Sophie discovers he’s really the Prince, even after she discovers his preference for the tenors and baritones of the local opera company. And she inspires him to follow in the footsteps of the great kings of the past, and be remembered for his buildings, buildings that bankrupt his kingdom and send him into a presumed and comforting madness.

Meanwhile, a hundred years later, James Avery is heading down the path to juvenile delinquency. He finishes High School in a reformatory and comes back home to seduce away Sally, the almost-bride (and prom queen) of his childhood conquest, Henry Lee. That she loves them both is evident, that James loves them both is equally evident. As they grow into adulthood, James and Henry Lee find themselves in the same army unit, behind German lines, hiding for their lives. Meanwhile, Sally finds herself pregnant with the child of, well, one of them.

The war takes a bitter toll, and the play ends with a bittersweet coda, which I won’t spoil for you. Let’s just say it involves a solid gold valentine-shaped reliquary that may (or may not) contain the heart of King Ludwig.

I cannot talk about this production without praising the cast. Topher Payne is Ludwig in a way I was not expecting. He has made a career of playing and writing about gay characters. Here, though, he concentrates more on making him a confused, lonely young man without the stereotypical campy mannerism we might expect. Yes, we see him preferring men to women, but we also believe his genuine affection for and friendship with Sophie. He is a fully a 19th-century aristocrat, not a 20th-century cliché. And I, for one, fully accepted his eventual embracement of madness, his obsession with Lohengrin, and his total infatuation with beauty of any kind.

Back in the 1930’s and 1940’s, Matt Felten gives James Avery a drive and burning intensity that transcends sexuality and expectation. He makes the seductions of Henry Lee and Sally equally believable and even desirable. This is a character who can only be happy indulging all his sides. Of the supporting cast, I found Kate Graham, the most impressive, and this is not intended to belittle the efforts of the others – Greg Morris (Henry Lee and others), Sunny Williams (the mother of both Ludwig and James, among others), and Alejandro Gutierrez (Ludwig's brother, his chief minister, and others). But Ms. Graham must play both the blonde Texan Sally and the Austrian brunette Sophie, sometimes in consecutive scenes. Yes, she owes a debt of gratitude to her dressers and wig-makers, but she gives both characters a sparkle and edge that are all her own -- delightful, appealing, and distinct. These (and the few other minor parts) show her to have a remarkable range that hopefully will soon be exploited by other theatres.

If the connection between the stories strains a bit, if the interactions between the characters of differing centuries sometimes seem more playwright contrivance that character-driven madness, if the energy (and humor) flag a bit in Act II, the final coda is beautiful, symbolic elegy to both stories, and a moving meditation on the nature of love and beauty.

The set is simple and stark, fully in tune with the constraints of a production in repertory, and seemingly in contrast with Ludwig's obsession with elaborate architecture and over -the-top construction. But, at the same time, it gives an elegant bridge between the centuries, and gives us the opportunity to imagine a grander castle than any set designer could conceive and build. And, on Ludwig'sascension to the throne, the lighting conspires with the simple set (and Mr. Payne’s performance) to give us a moment of transplendent glory.

King Ludwig was found dead under mysterious circumstances in 1886 in a lake outside his still not-quite-complete Neuschwanstein Castle. Following the custom of his time, his heart was not buried with his body, but kept in a gilded reliquary. This play succeeds as history never does in showing how the truth of his heart is the Swanlike beauty of Lohengrin, a Swan Song for a life striving for the eternal, a beauty capturing that timeless eternal.

Rather than the traditional “Swan Song” of eras’ ends, this is a fitting opening for what promises to be another successful Power Plays Festival.

Back and Forth

Topher Payne and Sunny Williams shine in Valhalla

by Jim Farmer

Southern Voice

WRITER PAUL RUDNICK is a truly funny man, but his projects aren’t always fail proof. Everyone remembers his “In and Out” and “Addams Family Values,” but he’s also responsible for film duds such as “Marci X” and the “The Stepford Wives” remake.

As a playwright, he’s also had mixed success. Some of his work — especially “Jeffrey” and “The Most Fabulous Story Ever Told,” are beloved. Now Atlanta has a chance to see Rudnick’s latest work, “Valhalla,” currently part of Essential Theatre’s Power Plays Fest.

Rudnick shifts between two initially dissimilar worlds, that of King Ludwig II of Bavaria (Topher Payne) and that of James Avery (Matt Felten), a fictional young boy growing up in Texas just before World War II. Pressed to marry, Ludwig finally decides to wed a humpback (Kate Graham) he really doesn’t love. Meanwhile in Texas, the bisexual James has a crush on Henry Lee Stafford (Greg Morris) but also seems fond of Sally (Graham again). James turns into a troublemaker and winds up in jail, before interrupting the marriage between Henry Lee and Sally. The two men later wind up fighting in Germany together.

THE PLAY FOLLOWS BOTH LEAD CHARACTERS, who turn out to have a lot in common. Both are misunderstood and unconventional, and also have a domineering mother (Sunny Williams in both roles).Rudnick, who is openly gay himself, is one of only a few playwrights whose plays always seem to have an unabashed gay sensibility. “Valhalla” has much gay content, and both leads seem to like men, even if Ludwig’s taste is played more ambiguously. Rudnick deserves immense credit for not writing another cookie cutter gay romantic comedy. “Valhalla” has ambition to spare, but it can lose scope. It is that rare play that would be more effective if it were simpler.

“VALHALLA” CAN LURCH back and forth wildly, and just when things are getting nutty, Rudnick throws in a bizarre musical number featuring the two soldiers.The cast, fortunately, makes the production well worth seeing. Payne’s comedic touch is on sharp display, Morris shows considerable talent, and Graham has a charming presence. Yet all the performers pale next to the dynamic Williams, who chews scenery delectably. “Valhalla” is one of the goofiest plays you’ll see this summer.