Charles Busch’s Die, Mommie, Die! , currently onstage thru September 13, as co-directed by Diane Bearden and Daniel Vincent, transforms Playhouse 615 into the lavish Beverly Hills home of Angela Arden Sussman (local drag persona Veronika Electronika), a once-famous Hollywood star whose glamorous life has become considerably less glamorous behind closed doors. Her marriage to film producer Sol (Daniel Vincent) is crumbling, her daughter Edith (Christian Swann) is devoted to Daddy while harboring a serious grudge against Mommie, and son Lance (Zach McMasters) is trying to navigate his own peculiar place within the family. Add Angela’s decidedly complicated relationship with her lover Tony Parker (Wanderson Rezende), Bootsie Carp (Deborah Seidel), a suspicious maid and enough secrets to fill a Hollywood gossip column, and Busch has concocted a comic thriller where murder and mayhem are served right alongside the martinis.
I attended opening night, and before the play even began, I was already impressed by what I saw onstage. The set design (courtesy Eric Bradley & Wanderson Rezende) and construction (Bradley, Rezende, McMasters & Abby Waddoups) perfectly convey the expected opulence of a forgotten star’s late-1960s Beverly Hills mansion. It’s a vast improvement over the company’s previous production’s bubbled-up faux wood wallpaper, giving me hope before the lights even dimmed to start the show.
Thankfully, that optimism wasn’t misplaced. While there were a few occasional fumbled lines and a couple of dropped props along the way, opening night jitters are to be expected, and the cast generally recovered without disrupting the momentum. More importantly, everyone seemed to understand precisely what kind of theatrical playground Busch has created—and they were more than willing to play in it.
Electronika, who, in recent years has appeared in pretty much every drag-related production at Playhouse 615, proves effective as Angela Arden Sussman. Having been a fan favorite amongst Nashville’s drag community for nearly a quarter of a century (she knows I love her, it just reads cattier that way) whether she’s reading to kiddies at drag story hour–literacy…it’s SO controversial–hosting a charity event, lobbying for LGBTQIA+ rights, performing a drag show or appearing in a theatrical production, you know you’re gonna get a bit of the diva that is Veronika Electronika, especially if that’s how she’s credited in the playbill. Such is the case with Veronika as Angela. She’s larger than life, self-indulging, wickedly self-important, and thanks to Veronika’s own wardrobe doubling for Angela’s, dressed to the mother-fuckin’ nines–or at least sixes, because that’s how many wardrobe changes I counted, not including at least two outer layer discardings revealing more fashion underneath–while chewing on every inch of that decadent scenery. Yes, per Busch’s script you’ll find aspects of many a great diva including, but not limited to Bette Davis, Joan Crawford, and even Mama Rose, but make no mistake about it, it’s Music City diva Veronika Electronika who’s most present in this portrayal of Angela Arden Sussman.
It’s difficult to imagine anyone more naturally suited to play a faded screen siren who has absolutely no intention of surrendering her place at center stage. Veronika understands Angela’s theatricality instinctively, but there’s enough calculation beneath the glamour to keep her from becoming merely a caricature. Her exchanges with Daniel Vincent’s Sol crackle with marital venom, while her scenes with Wanderson Rezende bring an entirely different kind of heat.
While Veronika Electronika’s Angela Arden Sussman is the assumed, and self-proclaimed star of the show, she’s got some tough competition for that honor, most notably Wanderson Rezende’s Tony Parker is literally and figuratively Veronica’s stiffest scene-stealing competition. From his hilariously overly-dramatic ‘soap opera stare’ after nearly every line, to the comedic callback of his ongoing flippant chain-smoking habit (He literally puts cigarette after cigarette in his mouth only to carelessly flip them somewhere in the vicinity of the nearest ashtray, only to rinse/repeat this action throughout the show). As if stealing each scene weren’t enough, Rezende’s Tony never simply exits the stage. With every exit comes a last-minute fourth wall-breaking knowing over-the-shoulder glance letting you know he’ll be back for more mayhem. The audience just couldn’t keep their eyes off this production’s licentious lothario. Then there’s the matter of his wardrobe. It’s well-established early on that Rezende’s Tony is, um…above average in certain aspects. Suffice it to say Jimmy Fallon’s “Tight Pants” skit could easily have been written in Rezende’s Tony Parker’s honor. Humor suited for any horned-up 12-year-old, and it plays hilariously in the hands of Rezende.
Oh, and you gotta love one particular scene in which Tony arrives at the mansion to give Angela a tennis lesson. Angela, dressed in a cute green knit tennis ensemble (a reliable source tells me it was procured at a local Goodwill, if you can believe that) is carrying a matching equipment bag with the words RACKET and BALLS on it. Perfect to decribe both the racket going on within the house and well, Tony, in general. Meanwhile, it also wasn’t lost on me that Wanderson’s Tony is sporting track pants by Everlast©.
Rezende’s portrayal thrives on precision. That ridiculously prolonged stare, the ever-present cigarette and the calculated physicality could easily become tiresome in lesser hands, but he keeps finding new ways to wring another laugh from them. Tony is the kind of character who seems convinced that every room is his personal stage—and Rezende gives him exactly that level of shameless confidence. Having seen Rezende in just under a dozen roles in recent years, I’m continually impressed with his versatility as an actor and his masterclass-level comedic timing.
Daniel Vincent’s Sol Sussman is the butt of many of the show’s jokes. That ASSessment makes more sense if you’ve seen the show. Pulling double-duty as co-director of this production, perhaps Vincent leans a bit too heavily into the stereotypes of the character’s Jewish film producer tropes. Regardless, Vincent is most fun to watch when he’s trading barbs with his on-stage wife, when paired with Christian Swann as his too close for comfort dotting daughter, Edith Sussman. or dodging advances from his mildly obsessive maid. But it’s the aforementioned nearly-incestuous ick between Sol and Edith as played by Vincent and Swann that’s pure Charles Busch camp.
There’s a particularly entertaining rhythm to Vincent’s scenes with Veronika, as Sol and Angela volley insults with the practiced ease of a couple who have spent far too many years perfecting the art of getting under each other’s skin. His scenes with Swann take that discomfort somewhere considerably stranger, particularly as Edith’s devotion to her father begins veering into decidedly inappropriate territory.
On the subject of Swann’s Edith, when I heard Playhouse 615 had cast a male in the role of the Daddy-worshiping, Mommie-hating Edith Sussman, I fully expected the joke to be drag queens playing the rivaling mother/daughter duo to the hilt. Much to my absolute camp-loving delight, making his Playhouse 615 debut, Swann’s Edith is played strictly for laughs as a boy in a wig and a short dress. Sure his nails are painted, the wig has potential and he’s donned a bit of makeup, but there’s not even the slightest attempt at a higher-pitched voice, or perceived ultra-feminine gesturing or movement. Yet, somehow Swann simply reads brilliantly as Edith. I suspect the show’s co-director, Diane Bearden had a hand in this. Either way, kudos to Swann for not only making Edith his very own, but also for making her among my personal favorites in the show.
That choice proves particularly effective because Swann never seems to be chasing the joke. He simply inhabits Edith’s bizarre worldview and allows the circumstances around him to generate the comedy. His expressions and reactions do a tremendous amount of work, particularly when Edith is confronting Angela or fawning over her father. For a Playhouse 615 debut, Swann makes a memorable first impression, turning what could have been a one-note gag into a character with a distinct presence of her own.
Cast as Lance, the Sussman’s ne’er do well, oddly twitchy son is Zach McMasters. In my recent Rapid Fire 20Q with cast from this production, I chastised Zach about the raven-colored, poorly groomed wig as seen in the show’s promo shots, so at least they went with something less offensive for the performance. Looking AND sounding like a less-mellow Shaggy Rogers from Scooby-Doo, I half expected McMasters to let out the occasional “ZOINKS!” when action in the play took a surprising turn. Nonetheless, his Lance mugs for the audience, somehow transcending the camp, evoking a bit of sympathy for his familial circumstances. And is it weird that among the on-stage overlapping love interests, couplings, flirtations and strange bedfellows, his scenes with Rezende’s Tony somehow equate to the most chemistry between actors? Nope. It’s not weird. In a production filled with tangled relationships and improbable romantic entanglements, their exchanges have an oddly genuine spark that makes their scenes particularly enjoyable. Lance could easily disappear beneath the eccentricities, but McMasters gives him just enough vulnerability to make us wonder what might have happened if he’d grown up in literally any other family.
Rounding out the cast is yet another scene-stealing, dialogue-devouring member of the cast comes courtesy the Sussman family’s sedulous, albeit frequently soused (was that a Tiffany & Co. flask I spotted?) maid, Bootsie Carp, as played by Deborah Seidel. Part devoted Alice Nelson from The Brady Bunch, with a healthy does of Agnes Moorehead’s loudmouth, back-talking maid Velma Crutcher in Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte, Seidel’s Bootsie simultaneously throws verbal punches to Veronika while while whispering often unrequited sweet nothing to Sol. Spoiler Alert: her ‘death scene’ blatantly steals every over-reaching laugh-grab from classic comedians like Carol Burnette, and we’re here for it.
Seidel has the timing to make Bootsie’s every appearance feel like a comic punctuation mark. She knows exactly how long to hold a reaction, when to fire off a retort and when to let the audience enjoy the sheer ridiculousness of what’s unfolding around her. Her rapport with Veronika is especially delicious, with Bootsie seemingly possessing just enough nerve to say what everyone else in the mansion is thinking. And when she turns her attention toward Sol, that flirtation adds yet another wonderfully inappropriate wrinkle to the household. As for that death scene, subtlety clearly never entered the room. And frankly, why would it?
Charles Busch’s particular brand of comedy works best when the performers embrace the outrageousness rather than attempting to sand down its sharper edges. Having assembled a cast that brings distinctly different flavors to the Sussman household Playhouse 615 get it. Veronika Electronika has the glamorous excess of Angela down to a rhinestone-encrusted science, while Wanderson Rezende turns Tony into a walking, talking, smoking, smoldering testosterone laugh-fest. Daniel Vincent finds just enough mileage in Sol’s perpetual discomfort, Christian Swann delivers an unexpectedly terrific Edith in his Playhouse 615 debut, Zach McMasters gives Lance an appealing vulnerability beneath all that neuroses, and Deborah Seidel makes Bootsie the kind of maid you absolutely want around, especially if your’e the black sheep of the family and the rest of your relations start behaving badly. It’s worth mentioning again, this production also benefits enormously from that sumptuous set. It provides exactly the sort of decadent backdrop this story demands and immediately establishes the world in which these characters can indulge their worst impulses. Just remember: in Beverly Hills, the family that schemes together may not stay together—and when Mommie says everything is fine, you might want to check the body count.
If you like your family drama served with murder, marital betrayal, sexual innuendo, extravagant wardrobes and a maid who knows entirely too much, Die, Mommie, Die! is ready to welcome you into the Sussman mansion as Playhouse 615 continues the camplicious hysterical histrionics thru September 13. CLICK HERE to purchase tickets (use the drop-down to select specific date/time). For more from Playhouse 615, check out their website or follow them on Instagram and Facebook.
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RAPID FIRE WITH CHRISTIAN SWANN, DIE, MOMMIE, DIE!’s EDITH SUSSMAN
RAPID FIRE WITH ZACH McMASTERS, DIE, MOMMIE, DIE!’s LANCE SUSSMAN
RAPID FIRE WITH VERONIKA ELECTRONIKA, DIE, MOMMIE, DIE!’s ANGELA ARDEN
With an obvious nod to the original Broadway run’s scenic design by Beowulf Boritt, for The Keeton’s production, Kevin Driver and his scenic team (Abby Waddoups, Donna Driver, Aras Alexander, Eric Bradley and Crystal Liles) construct a seemingly simple but successful set. The backdrop, a stripped-down horizontal slat wall that beautifully plays with Jesse Watts’ lighting design. Also reminiscent of the original set design, Keeton’s stage is flanked on either side by tall, thin but sturdy trees that extend out of sight above the action. Driver and company nicely represent the play’s locale with the added touch of downstage rock formations, giving just a hint of a rocky-shored island vibe. No need for elaborate set pieces or projections representing the various scene locations. Throughout the action of the piece, a chair can represent a seat on a plane, a place at a table, a passenger waiting for answers or simply another piece of the constantly shifting landscape. To that end, the choreography by Mckenna Driver works hand-in-hand with that concept, keeping the ensemble in perpetual motion and allowing the story to move with the same speed and urgency as the characters’ rapidly changing circumstances. Here, chairs become airplanes one moment, a bus headed to parts unknown the next, and then a crowded airport filled with weary strangers who somehow become fast friends. If you read my column with any regularity, you know I love a bit of chairography (blame Sweet Charity’s Shirley MacLaine or Janet Jackson if you want) and in Come From Away, chairography—a wonderfully inventive use of the simplest theatrical object to create an entire world—is key.
There may be twelve cast members, but the way Come From Away is presented, each cast member plays at least two roles: those of the displaced passengers and crew of the diverted planes and the townspeople of Gander, Newfoundland. At the center of the ensemble is Melissa Silengo, whose performance as Beverly Bass is nothing short of a powerhouse. Silengo brings an impressive combination of authority, vulnerability and warmth to the role of the pioneering female pilot. Her rendition of “Me and the Sky” is one of the production’s defining moments, taking Beverly from a young girl captivated by the possibility of flight through the challenges of becoming a pilot and ultimately into the extraordinary circumstances that put her leadership to the test. Silengo never plays Beverly simply as a heroic figure; she gives her humanity, making the character’s determination all the more affecting.
As for the passengers, Yolanda Treece’s Hannah, is equally heartbreaking. Her story, particularly as she waits desperately for word about her son, gives the production some of its most emotionally devastating moments. Treece allows Hannah’s grief to unfold with restraint rather than melodrama, making the quiet moments every bit as powerful as the big ones. When the characters gather in prayer, the scene becomes a poignant reminder that despite differences in religion, nationality and circumstance, there are some fears and hopes that belong to all of us.
RAPID FIRE WITH COME FROM AWAY’s KEVIN J., JUSTIN TINKER
RAPID FIRE WITH COME FROM AWAY DIRECTOR SUSAN WALSWORTH
If you’re deciding what to catch over the remainder of the festival, the six productions highlighted as this year’s Must Sees provide an excellent place to start. Musical theater fans should make time for Fairy Floss: A New Musical, a charming new work by Madeline Hicks featuring music by Kara McLeland. Inspired by the invention of cotton candy, the production blends romance, whimsy and history into what promises to be one of the festival’s sweetest offerings.
Opera lovers shouldn’t miss Faith: A New Opera, composer Jeremy Smith’s ambitious new work combining Southern gospel traditions, Appalachian folk influences and classical opera in the story of a charismatic preacher whose growing influence comes at a cost.
Of course, one of Kindling’s greatest strengths is the joy of discovering productions that may not have been on your radar before arriving. This year’s lineup also includes Common Ground, an evening of dance celebrating community and collaboration; Milk Makes Me Sick But My Body Needs It, Hannah Dorfman’s deeply personal exploration of womanhood and healing; 30 Plays in 60 Minutes, an energetic collection of miniature plays inspired by the festival’s UTOPIAS theme; and See You in Hell, an unforgettable mix of burlesque, drag, clowning and spoken word.
It seems only fitting that one of the grande dames of Nashville community theatre should portray the grande dame of this troubled estate. Linda Speir is perfectly cast as Mrs. Warwick, carrying herself with the unmistakable air of someone who has spent decades believing everyone else exists merely to disappoint her. Speir expertly mixes aristocratic self-importance with dismissive disdain for nearly everyone she encounters, yet wisely avoids making the character simply cold or cruel. In fleeting moments—a softened glance, a quieter line delivery, the slightest crack in an otherwise rigid exterior—she reveals the forgotten gentler woman buried beneath years of grief, pride and disappointment. Those subtle glimpses make Mrs. Warwick far more interesting than the stereotypical overbearing matriarch she could have easily become.
Rounding out the cast Emma Reinbold is, on the surface, a steady, reassuring presence as the devoted Ms. Bennett, grounding many of the play’s more emotionally charged moments with quiet sincerity. But of course there’s more to her long-tenured devoted presence. Rich Moses lends Julian an affable confidence that keeps audiences guessing exactly where his loyalties lie. Andrea Coleman’s police Sergeant provides some of the nights’ more comical moments. She and her on-stage superior, Rezende’s Inspector, trade eye-rolls and seemingly unscripted, adlibed barbs, giving the Sergeant more range of character than the calm professionalism with which the role is typically presented. Kamron Smith rounds out the ensemble as Angell, offering up the tried and true embodiment of the age-old mystery trope that raises the question, did indeed the butler do it? OK, so Angell isn’t a butler, but he is a male attendant to the murder victim, but you get the gist.
His investigative process becomes theatrical in all the best ways. Whether employing the murder weapon as a visual aid, incorporating a fruit snack into his deductions, or somehow turning a bit of knitting into investigative tool, Rezende constantly finds inventive bits of business that not only earn laughs but reinforce the notion that this Inspector’s mind is always several clues ahead of everyone else. A prime example come in the aforementioned investigation of Speir’s Mrs. Warwick. As the Inspector invites the elder matriarch to join him on the sofa for a little chat, he nonchalantly takes out his knitting needs, and yarn. He nonchalantly tosses the yarn into Mrs. Warwick’s lap, which she quickly and calmly removes from her lap a sets the yarn between them. It’s a simple but effective scene. The Inspector is either trying to equate the humdrum hobby of knitting with the senior suspect, or he’s establishing dominance by assuming she’ll hold the yarn as he coaxes her to weave her tale of the events of the murderous night. Either way, in the hands of Rezende–with an able assist from Speir–it’s one of the most inventive Christie moments you’re likely to encounter on a local stage.
As is the case with most mysteries, there’s that uncomfortable moment when difficult facts are presented. It is in that spirit that the usual suspects of technical issues within Playhouse 615’s production need be addressed. While the majority of the Welsh accents were certainly serviceable, several wandered throughout the evening, occasionally drifting toward a more generic British sound before finding their way back again.
RAPID FIRE WITH THE UNEXPECTED GUEST CO-DIRECTOR CRAIG HARTLINE
RAPID FIRE WITH KATIE DELAUNE THE UNEXPECTED GUEST‘s LAURA WARWICK
RAPID FIRE WITH EMMA REINBOLD, THE UNEXPECTED GUEST’s MISS BENNETT
RAPID FIRE 20Q WITH HAMILTON‘s ELIZA, LILY SOTO
RAPID FIRE WITH HAMILTON‘s ANGELICA, MARJA HARMON
RAPID FIRE WITH HAMILTON PRINCIPAL STANDBY, CHIBUEZE IHUOMA
RAPID FIRE WITH HAMILTON ASSISTANT SOUND ENGINEER, JOSHUA BOATMAN
Isiah Rankin, pulling double duty behind the scenes as the show’s music director helps shape a score that feels authentic, alive and wonderfully spontaneous. Performing as Andre, Rankin brings an easygoing best-friend, wing-man energy to nearly every scene he inhabits. Whether leading the slyly playful “T Ain’t Nobody’s Biz-ness If I Do,” joining the delightfully flirtatious “How Ya Baby,” or bringing swagger to “The Viper’s Drag,” he consistently demonstrates both vocal confidence and magnetic stage presence.
Yolanda Treece, performing as Nell, emerges as one of the production’s most engaging personalities. Possessing a remarkable ability to connect with the audience through nothing more than a wink, an eye-roll or a flirtatious grin, Treece makes every moment feel personal. Her spirited rendition of “Cash for Your Trash” earns plenty of laughs, while “Mean to Me” reveals a deeper emotional vulnerability. By evening’s end, it becomes clear she knows exactly how to work a room…and we’re all better for it.
Lisa Graham’s Armelia is powered by boundless energy and a voice capable of effortlessly navigating Waller’s jazz-infused melodies. Her playful “Squeeze Me” is an Act 1 standou, while later numbers such as “Find Out What They Like”, alongside Treece showcase both her comic timing and vocal precision. Graham consistently finds fresh colors within each song, making every appearance memorable.
Raven Buntyn proves herself the show’s most versatile performer. One moment she’s the provocative, self-assured Charlaine commanding attention during “Yacht Club Swing.” The next she’s leaning into a more innocent, delightfully ditzy persona. Buntyn handles every shift seamlessly, while her heartfelt “Keepin’ Out of Mischief Now” offers one of the evening’s loveliest vocal moments.
As Ken, Elliott Robinson demonstrates remarkable ease navigating both sides of Waller’s catalog. He is equally comfortable delivering laugh-out-loud comedic lyrics as he is tackling material with deeper emotional resonance. His charming performance of “Honeysuckle Rose” helps establish the production’s playful tone early on, while “I’m Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter” becomes one of Act Two’s most satisfying highlights.
The decision to position the musicians directly onstage pays immediate dividends.