First presented as a 7-minute interval act during the 1994 Eurovision competition in Dublin, Ireland, performed by Michel Flatley and Jean Butler as conceived by composer Bill Wheland and co-founders Moya Doherty and John McColgan, there’s a reason Riverdance has endured for three decades. With Riverdance 30: The New Generation–onstage in Nashville at TPAC‘s Jackson Hall April 3 & 4 as the U.S. Tour continues– that legacy isn’t just preserved—it’s reenergized with a thrilling sense of immediacy. From the first electrifying beats of Act I’s opener, “Reel Around the Sun,” this anniversary tour reminds audiences exactly why it became a global phenomenon in the first place and why its popularity is unwavering.
The company wastes no time establishing its signature precision, led by principal dancers Kieran Bryant, Will Bryant, Anna Mai Fitzpatrick, Fergus Fitzpatrick, Olivia Nachtigal, and Mairead Trainor—each bringing a distinct presence while maintaining the razor-sharp synchronicity that defines the production. (And for a deeper dive into two of the evening’s standouts, be sure to check out my recent Rapid Fire 10Q with lead dancers and brothers Kieran Bryant & Will Bryant.)
“Reel Around the Sun,” with original choreography by Riverdance‘s legendary Michael Flatley, sets the tone with a commanding blend of power and polish, while “The Heart’s Cry” and “The Countess Cathleen” introduce the production’s more lyrical and folkloric elements. Throughout, John Kavanagh’s narration threads its way between segments, landing somewhere between folklore, fairytale, and fact. While evocative, the through line can feel a bit elusive at times—beautiful in isolation, though occasionally lacking clarity in the larger arc. Perhaps falling victim to life on the road, the sound–at least during Night One of the tour’s Music City Stop–struggled a bit with the live instrumentation and vocal performances occasionally overpowering the narration and all three suffering in the aftermath.
That said, when the show leans into its rhythmic intensity, it’s virtually unstoppable. “Thunderstorm” delivers one of Act I’s most exhilarating sequences, the male troupe unleashing a barrage of percussive footwork that feels both primal and impossibly precise. “Firedance” shifts the energy entirely, with flamenco soloist Rocio Dusmet Orellano commanding the stage in a fiery fusion of Irish and Spanish traditions—an arresting reminder of the show’s global reach.
Musically, the production is as rich as ever, thanks to The Riverdance Band under the direction of Mark Alfred (drums, percussion, bodhrán). Cathal Croke’s uilleann pipes and low whistle add an unmistakable Celtic texture, while Haley Richardson’s fiddle and Emma McPhilemy’s saxophone bring both warmth and unexpected contemporary flair. Together with the company’s singers and drummers, they create a soundscape that feels as alive as the movement it drives. Interesting
Act I builds—inevitably, gloriously—to the showstopping “Riverdance.” It’s the moment audiences wait for, and it still delivers that mid-show ovation energy, the full company in perfect unison as rhythm becomes spectacle.
Act II opens with “American Wake,” a vibrant nod to the Irish diaspora, before launching into one of the production’s most visually and culturally compelling segments: “Trading Taps.” Featuring Riverdance Tappers Kenji Igus and Dharmesh Patel, the number unfolds—per state-of-the-art projections—Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass (DUMBO), a detail my date for the evening, a former New Yorker, was quick to appreciate. Here, the show brilliantly illustrates how Irish rhythmic traditions echo through tap and hip-hop, creating a dialogue between styles that feels both historic and strikingly modern.
It’s a standout moment, though its placement feels slightly out of sync with the show’s overall progression. In a production that might benefit from some light editing or reordering, “Trading Taps” arguably belongs closer to the finale, where its thematic resonance could land with even greater impact.
Other highlights in Act II include “Ritmos del Corazon / Andalucía,” once again showcasing Orellano’s commanding flamenco artistry, and the continued interplay between the company’s diverse dance traditions, including the applause-garnering contributions of the Dervish Folk Dance Troupe.
Ultimately, Riverdance 30: The New Generation is at its best when it leans into what it has always done so well: uniting music and movement in a way that transcends language and narrative. Even when the storytelling thread feels slightly diffused, the sheer talent onstage never wavers.
The evening closes with “Home and The Heartland,” a fan-favorite finale dating back to the 1995 Dublin stage debut. It’s as rousing and emotionally satisfying as ever—a full-circle moment that honors the show’s origins while celebrating its continued evolution.
Thirty years on, Riverdance still knows how to bring an audience to its feet—and in the hands (and feet) of this new generation, its rhythm feels as unstoppable as ever. Riverdance 30: The New Generation wraps it’s limited two-day Nashville stop with two performances at TPAC‘s Jackson Hall Saturday, April 4 with a 2pm matinee and a 7:30pm evening performance. CLICK HERE for tickets.
Following their Music City tour stop, Riverdance 30 continues its U.S. Tour with stops in Morgantown, WV; Dayton, OH; Johnstown, PA; Detroit, MI; and more through June as the U.S. anniversary tour continues. For future dates, to purchase tickets, or to see the full schedule CLICK HERE. For all things Riverdance, CLICK HERE or follow them on Insta, TikTok, Youtube and Facebook.
Beyond Riverdance, TPAC‘s calendar of events continues with Nashville Repertory Theatre‘s production of Sister Act on stage at the Polk Theatre April 10 thru 19 (Check back here at jhpentertainment.com for our upcoming chat with Sister Act‘s director and members of the cast). TPAC Inclusive Arts Presents two Arts Adventure Workshops—Stage Combat for ages 9-15 and Heroes and Villains for ages 8-16 on April 11. On April 16, TPAC InsideOut and Vanderbilt University team up to present a Lunchtime Preview of Nashville Ballet‘s Sherlock (onstage at the Polk Theatre May 1-3). April 16 thru 18, Nashville Opera presents The Barber of Seville at TPAC‘s Jackson Hall. CLICK HERE for all these and more great performances at TPAC.
As always, If you want to read our latest on Music, Movies, Performing or Visual Arts, please check out JHPEntertainment online or socials at Facebook, Insta, X and Threads. Till then…. #GoSeeTheShow!
Then there’s Doc. David Josefsberg’s take on the eccentric inventor is where the show truly locks into place. Wonderfully unhinged in the best way, his Doc balances manic comedy with genuine heart. His early numbers are the turning point where the audience collectively leans in and says, “Okay, I’m in.” Josefsberg doesn’t imitate—he reinvents, while still honoring what makes Doc such an iconic character.
And then there’s Cartreze Tucker as Goldie Wilson (and Marvin Berry), who nearly steals the entire show. From the moment he steps onstage, Tucker commands attention. His big number earns one of the largest audience responses of the night, and for good reason—his vocals are powerhouse-level, and his charisma is off the charts. It’s a star-making turn that injects an extra jolt of electricity into an already high-energy production.
Visually, the production is stunning. The use of projections, layered with practical effects and good old-fashioned stage magic and some mind-blowing state-of-the-art new theatrical tricks, the effects become a character in its own right. Whether it’s the clock tower sequence or the time-travel effects, the technical execution is nothing short of jaw-dropping. It’s the kind of design work that reminds you how thrilling live theatre can be when all the elements are firing.
Act Two does bring one of the more head-scratching moments in the show—a neon-soaked, new wave-inspired “21st Century” opening number featuring Doc and a troupe of backup dancers. It’s flashy and fun, but also feels a bit unnecessary and tonally out of sync with the rest of the piece. And on opening night in Nashville, it was followed by a rare hiccup: the hoverboard didn’t quite cooperate. Still, the moment was handled with total professionalism, and honestly, it was quickly forgiven given the sheer volume of technical wizardry the show gets right. Because when it works—and it mostly does—it really works.
From the opening strains of the period-perfect ragtime-syncopated “Let Mother Vote,” maternally led by Mary Grandy‘s Carrie Chapman Catt and backed by a vocally powerful ensemble, Suffs makes it clear: this isn’t a museum piece. It’s a movement. The storytelling feels urgent, strong, and emotionally immediate—never preachy, always human.
As Ida B. Wells, Danyel Fulton commands attention with moral clarity, emotional precision and powerhouse vocals to rival a certain recent Broadway Gypsy. “Wait My Turn” simmers with justified frustration, and when she returns in “I Was Here,” alongside Mary Church Terrell (Trisha Jeffrey) and Phyllis Terrell (Victoria Pekel), the moment lands as a declaration of presence that resonates well beyond the period setting. Speaking of Fulton’s co-stars, Jeffrey brings elegance and resolve to Mary Church Terrell, particularly in “Hold It Together,” serving as an emotional anchor amid political fractures. Meanwhile, Pekel’s Phyllis as well as a later turn as Robin, reinforce the vitality of youthful exuberance necessary for any movement to continue into the next generation. Whenever any of these three talented performers are on stage, the audience is mesmerized and treated to stunning vocals.
Monica Tulia Ramirez’s Inez Milholland radiates charisma in “The March (We Demand Equality),” which she leads alongside Fulton’s Ida and the ensemble in one of the production’s most visually arresting sequences. Act I’s “Show Them Who You Are” showcases Ramirez’s sass while Act II’s reprise flips the script to haunting results. Milholland’s personal life and sacrifices poignantly reveal the true dedication these powerful, but often unsung heroes of the moment possessed.
Laura Stracko‘s Alva Belmont is boisterously brilliant. Gotta love a socialist socialite. Act I’s “Alva Belmont” introduces the character in a big way. With another period-nod, “Alva Belmont” is presented as a toe-tappin’ Tin Pan Alley-style ditty complete with playful, yet pointed lyrics: “I divorced my husband for philandering. Now I’ve got his millions for philanthropy.” Flawlessly introducing the character. Interestingly, while not really relevant to the plot, I discovered while researching to interview some of the cast that the real Alva Belmont, a native of Alabama, has ties-by-association to Tennessee. Her maternal grandfather, Robert Desha was a U.S. House of Representatives for the state of Tennessee. In the years before her political activism, she was first married to William Kissam Vanderbilt, the grandson of Commodore Cornelius Vanderbilt (for whom Nashville’s Vanderbilt University was named).
As President Woodrow Wilson, Jenny Ashman offers a sharply drawn portrayal. “Ladies” drips with calculated condescension (and sadly echoes a little too closely our current administration’s views on the arguably stronger sex, but I digress). Later in the show, Ashman’s Wilson attemps to placate with “Let Mother Vote (reprise)”, which lands with pointed irony. On Opening Night in Nashville, Ariana Burks stepped into the role of President Wilson’s Third Assistant Secretary of State Dudley Malone, a role usually played by Brandi Portert. Covering the role, Burks shines in “Respectfully Yours, Dudley Malone,” blending romantic sincerity with political awakening. Her chemistry with Marcus’ Doris in “If We Were Married” and its reprise adds warmth and texture to the broader narrative. Just one of a handful of relationships, while not at the center of the narrative, a wonderful aside. Other notable personal relationships alluded to within Suffs include sorority sisters Ida B. Wells and Mary Church Terrell, friends Alice Paul and Lucy Burns and longtime partners Carrie Chapman Catt and Mollie Hay.
s Edward Bloom, Micheal Walley bursts onto the stage with charisma and conviction. From his first entrance, his speech pattern and delivery lands near Mark Twain’s distinctive Southern storytelling drawl — deliberate, charming, measured — and for some reason put me in mind of French Stewart’s Harry Solomon from “Third Rock from the Sun”, quick with an unexpected sarcastic bite. The blend gives Edward both homespun authenticity and razor-edged comedic timing, a balance that keeps the character from drifting into caricature. The subtle but effective vocal change between younger Edward to his more frail self in later years is quite interesting to take in.
Choreographer Andrea Campbell, working in clear collaboration with director Aaron Gray, makes masterful use of The Keeton’s intimate stage. With a cast of twenty, filling the space without overwhelming it is no small feat, yet the production never once feels crowded. Instead, it feels alive. From kick lines to tap and everything in between, the variety of choreography reflects the musical’s tonal shifts while showcasing the ensemble’s versatility. One can only imagine the rigor of rehearsals required to master such range within spatial constraints, and the ensemble rises to the challenge with precision and enthusiasm. Director Gray deserves equal praise for staging that maximizes every inch of the performance area, creating dynamic stage pictures that feel expansive, an appropriate nod to the story’s 2003 cinematic retelling courtesy Tim Burton‘s film adaptation, despite the venue’s modest footprint.
Jacob Hinnen as Edward’s adult son, delivers a fully believable, emotionally grounded portrayal of Will Bloom. Hinnen never pushes for sympathy; instead, he allows Will’s frustration and skepticism to emerge organically. The result is authenticity. As Will prepares to become a father himself, the shift in perspective is subtle yet powerful. You believe him — every step of the way.
At the center is Brian Charles Rooney, who’s made quite a name for himself, not only on the local level, but for his work in New York on Broadway, is well-known for his vocal prowess as a musical theatre powerhouse. Rooney captures the full breadth of George’s life journey—from mischievous boy to wide-eyed dreamer to the exhausted, cornered adult wondering where everything went wrong. Remarkably, he accomplishes this not through drastic physical transformation but through subtle, sharply observed choices: a shift in vocal pitch, a slight change in posture, the weight of responsibility settling into the shoulders. These gradations make his downward spiral heartbreaking and his redemption cathartic. As George Bailey, it’s his sincere believability as the multi-faceted depth he brings to the stage that holds the audience’s attention from that first appearance of a man defeated to the much-loved ringing of that angelic bell signifying all is well with the world. His performance as George Bailey is nothing short of revelatory. And YES…though this production is not a musical, the audiences is indeed treated to just a bit of Rooney’s pitch-perfect multi-octave voice for a quick little verse of Buffalo Gals, the beloved tune featured in the 1946 film classic.
As Mary Hatch Bailey, Tamiko Robinson Steele radiates warmth, quiet confidence, and fierce devotion. Her Mary is not simply the supportive spouse—she’s the emotional compass of the story, grounding George even when he’s flailing hardest. Steele’s effortless sincerity elevates every scene she touches. From their scenes depicting George and Mary’s childhood friendship to their teenage flirtation, Steele’s sweet embodiment of Mary is palpable. The scene at the drugstore soda fountain when Mary leans over to George and whispers in his bad ear her devotion, I couldn’t help but have a little eye sweat. With Steele in the role, it’s no wonder George offers Mary the moon.
Among the remaining ensemble are Eric D. Pasto Crosby, who is first seen in a brief appearance as Mr. Bailey and a little more stage time as Nick the barkeep (question…did they really have Sports Bars called as such in the 1940s? It’s rhetorical. Sports Bars weren’t a thing until the 1960s, thus my only complaint about the set, for when Clarences shows George what life would have been like had he not been born, they visit the bar formerly owned by Martini, now emblazoned with a mirror-etched sign reading Nick’s Sports Bar). Aleia Eagleton and Darci Nalepa Elam appear throughout portraying various townspeople. Among their standout turns, Elam’s Ma Bailey is motherly perfection while her Tilley is flirty and fun. Then there’s the small in stature, but big in energetic presence of Eagleton as she is fabulously convincing and utterly enjoyable in the tiny, but pivotal role of Zuzu.
While Jimmy Stewart’s Alfred from 1940’s The Shop Around the Corner presented the male counterpart of the story as a bit of a prickly nay-sayer, the musical adaptation’s male lead Georg Now, played in The Keeton’s She Loves Me by Jayden Murphy,
As Amalia Balash, Jiana Kevilus is radiant—sharp-tongued in the workplace to comedic delight when pitted again Georg one moment and achingly vulnerable when speaking (or singing) of her unidentified letter-writing love the next. Her interpretation honors Amalia’s insecurities, especially those revealed in Will He Like Me?, while infusing her with modern emotional clarity. As anticipated, Kevilus’ Vanilla Ice Cream—approached as a pivotal moment where Amalia subconsciously begins to realize Georg’s true identity—bubbles with joy, confusion, and discovery. It is one of the highlights of the evening: vocally agile and acted with specificity. In an admirable way, Kevilus’ performance of the song put me in mind of Olivia Newton-John’s Hopelessly Devoted Grease moment.
Kimberly Wolff, who seems to have become a full-fledge member of the Keeton company of frequently seen actors, is a standout as Ilona Ritter. Wolff gives the role the perfect blend of glamour, vulnerability, no-nonsense practicality and emotional intelligence. Her work in the number I Resolve is especially effective—Ilona’s attempt at independence is tinged with hope, frustration, and surprising strength.
Her scenes with Tommy Anglim’s Kodaly are super-charged with electrically playful tension. Anglim’s Kodaly is smooth, sly, and charming in all the most infuriating ways. During their shared musical numbers—particularly Ilona, Anglim’s Kodaly delivers a somewhat bawdy, yet perfectly comedically timed riotous performance. Anglim’s delightfully narcissistic Kodaly and Wolff’s tough-but-tender Ilona feel like they walked straight out of a Golden Age film.
Once again, The Keeton’s in-house scenic designer, Kevin Driver delivers a triumph and his She Loves Me set should be one of the most-talked-about elements of the production. Inspired by the 2016 Tony-winning Broadway revival’s transformative shop design, Driver creates an only slightly scaled-down Maraczek’s Parfumerie that feels timeless, elegant, and tactile. The mobile units shift the space effortlessly, inviting the audience directly into the warmth of the 1930s Budapest shop.
The supporting roles are filled with memorable performances. Brian Best, last seen as William Frawley in The Keeton’s Lucy Loves Desi, lends Mr. Maraczek gravitas and returns Best to the typical bravado roles for which he’s come to be known. His solo of Act 1’s Days Gone By and its Act 2 reprise are unexpectedly hauntingly touching. Sipos, a role often 
played as gentle and understated, in the hands of Victor Davis, creates a charmer with soulful presence and hilarious comedic timing. Making his Keeton debut, Samuel Boggs brings youthful earnestness to Arpad, his Try Me full of plucky determination. Boggs’ performances should be remembered as he’s definitely poised to be one to watch with a sure-fire future in Nashville’s theatre community.
As for the rest of the cast, Brenda Brannon (always a personal favorite) is snooty perfection as the sever in the upscale restaurant where our two fated lovers attempt their first face-to-face, Rich Moses, and the ensemble—Chloe Beehm, Hazen Lawson, Kathleen McClanahan, and Amanda Noss—bring humor, color, and a bit of extra fun to each moment they touch. Again, particularly enjoyable is the restaurant scene, from the physical comedy to flirtation abounding.
Ben Laxton, as the steady, dry-witted Bob Wallace, anchors the show with clean vocals and a grounded charm that never attempts to mimic Bing Crosby, but instead finds a sincerity and warmth all his own. His rendition of Count Your Blessings Instead of Sheep lands with a quiet power—simple, heartfelt, and beautifully sung.
Laxton pairs especially well with Lisa Karlin’s Betty Haynes, whose rich, velvety alto brings a classic, old-Hollywood elegance to every number she touches. Her Love, You Didn’t Do Right By Me—a personal favorite moment of mine—was delivered with haunting restraint, channeling Rosemary Clooney without imitation and earning one of the night’s strongest responses.
On the other side of the romantic coin, Jeremy Benton and Elizabeth McGuire ignite the stage as Phil Davis and Judy Haynes. Benton, not stranger to area theatre audiences, was last seen in Nashville as Bert in Nashville Rep‘s 2022 production of Mary Poppins, is also no stranger to the role, having performed in the National Tour of White Christmas and incredible 7 seasons. Speaking of previous connections to the show, Benton’s on-stage love interest McGuire, who’s making her Studio Tenn debut in the show, has previously appeared in two regional productions of White Christmas. Not only do they match the flirtatious comedic energy required of the roles, they also jointly co-choreographed the production—an ambitious undertaking given the show’s dance vocabulary is steeped in the iconic work of Randy Skinner. The result? Pure joy. Their The Best Things Happen While You’re Dancing is dreamlike and precise, but it’s the Act II taptastic extravaganza I Love a Piano that stops the show cold…or should I say Hot! Benton’s dancerly ease and McGuire’s crisp, buoyant tapping create the kind of musical-theatre electricity audiences hope for in December. They honor Skinner’s lineage while injecting fresh life into every step.
In comedic and heartwarming supporting turns, Megan Murphy Chambers (Martha) once again proves she can steal an act with one number. Her Let Me Sing and I’m Happy blends powerhouse vocals with effortless comedic bite—she lands every quip, every side-eye, and every belted high note with the precision of a seasoned pro. Belting lyrics like “if my song can start you laughin’/can start you cryin'”with humor and heart, rest assured MMC can and does! Chambers is a jewel in the crown of area theatre folk. She’s an entertainer’s entertainer. Equally at ease whether tasked with comedy or sincerity. Her scenes with Curtis Denham‘s General Waverly check all the marks perfectly hitting the highs of broad comedy and the more subtle genuine moments between two longtime friends. Speaking of, Curtis Denham brings a grounded gravitas to General Waverly, avoiding caricature and instead offering a touching 
portrait of a leader rediscovering purpose. Rounding out the primary cast is young Frankie Lou Lauderdale, who simply charms instantly as Susan (Preslee Siebert also plays Susan at some performances). Lauderdale delivers the pint-sized earnestness gives the storyline its heart. I’ve always found it interesting that in the original film, Susan is General Waverly’s adult granddaughter, but for the stage adaptation, Susan is presented as a young girl. I does indeed add a more family-oriented dynamic and Lauderdale’s Susan provides the right amount of youthful sweetness combined with moxie, as proven in her cheer-inducing ambitious rendition of Let Me Sing and I’m Happy.
While none of the cast truly look like their real-life counterparts, it’s not an impersonator show in Las Vegas, after all, Grace Gaddy’s Lucille Ball is, when all is said and done, a loving tribute to the iconic comedian. From her expressive eyes and impeccable comic timing to the way she embodies Lucy’s signature blend of glamour and goofiness, Gaddy gives a performance that’s joyously alive. Her physicality and facial expressions elicit hearty laughter while paying true homage to one of television’s greatest icons. My only hesitation in a giving Gaddy’s Lucilly Ball a full five star review rests on the fact that Gaddy’s choice of voice isn’t quite there. Yes, Lucille Ball’s real-life voice was quite different from her quicker, higher-pitched Lucy Ricardo voice, but Gaddy, try as she may, never quite hits the mark vocally. Of course the average Keeton audience member will easily overlook this because of Gaddy’s otherwise full-force embodiment of the iconic comedic actress. It should be noted that Gaddy’s Lucy is at her best not only when recreating a few classic I Love Lucy moments–her lip-smacking, face-pulling expressions during a quick look at Vitameatavegamin is indeed near-perfection–but also during scenes that show the rarer more vulnerable moment of the woman behind the legendary laughs.
Even though he plays the man upon whose book this play is based, Michael Welch has the benefit of playing someone most people have never seen and whose physical appearance isn’t as easily recognized as the four stars of the groundbreaking sitcom. That anonymity works to Welch’s advantage as he simply shines as Jess Oppenheimer, serving as the grounding force amid the behind-the-scenes chaos. His balance of humor and sincerity keeps the story engaging and human. His scenes between Gaddy’s Lucy and Rainwater’s Desi truly exemplify Oppenheimer’s role as both close friend and trusted collaborator in the creating of one of the world’s most beloved sitcoms.
Musically, this expanded version of the show delights with nostalgic selections that evoke memories of classic I Love Lucy episodes, including I’ll See You in C-U-B-A, Friendship, California Here I Come, and the beloved I Love Lucy theme song, complete with a bit of a did you know who wrote it spoiler and Rainwater and Gaddy singing the rarely heard lyrics. Enhancing the musical score throughout, frequent Keeton musical director Roger Hutson’s piano recordings add a lighthearted, era-appropriate touch, while Steve Love’s sound design, Brooke Sanders’ lighting, wig design by Alison Gaddy (loosen up those wigs so they look more natural and like the real-life ladies they’re styled after) and Denese René Evans’ costumes work in harmony to transport the audience straight to midcentury Hollywood. Evans’ costumes throughout are quite fun and seemingly period authentic, I do wish that Lucille’s Emmy dress was accurate, through…again, I’m just being an overzealous Lucy fan.
In spite of my above-reference initial hesitations and a strangely tepid Opening Night audience (Note: it’s ok to laugh out loud and to applaud after a particularly entertaining scene) and what could probably be chalked up to first night jitters from the cast resulting in the majority of Act 1’s delivery being a tad flat with several lines coming across as monotone with not real inflection and somewhat memorized, rather than convincingly felt and delivered with punch, those initial hesitations faded once the cast found their groove. 
Jay Sullivan is chilling as Count Dracula. He doesn’t simply linger 
Opposite him, Sullivan’s performances is beautifully balanced by Brian Webb Russell who gives a gravely controlled performance as Abram Van Helsing, anchoring the heroic opposition with clarity of intent and moral weight. Russell’s Van Helsing offers the perfect amount of sharp intellect and righteous urgency. His verbal sparring with Sullivan’s Dracula are electric—two forces circling each other in a battle of will and belief.
The trio of Lane Adam Williamson’s Renfield, DéYonté Jenkins’ Norbert Briggs and Catherine Gray’s Margaret Sullivan are tasked with carrying a bit of dark humor that helps temper the heavy suspense.
Then there’s Logan’s costumes. Every costume a work of art. The female cast members regal and radiant in finery fitting the period of the action. Van Helsing’s leather wardrobe, perfectly fitting for battle. Renfield’s asylum attire tattered and torn, but with a hit of glamour by way of some blinged-out blood spots. But it’s Dracula’s wardrobe that is truly glamorous and entrancing. From his first appearance bare-chested, but corseted in black to a black jacket accented with blood-red beaded erratic epaulets when he returns from a mysterious night right. (Gotta love that this particular look gets no mention within the context of the play, but is a jarring visual clue to the most astute audience member). The beauty of that costume not without merit, my personal favorite is yet another black jacket and pants combination. The jacket, from one side appears nothing special as the hem hits just below the actor’s waist, but from front view, its asymmetrical as the other side is more the length of a morning coat. Perhaps another visual clue of the duality of the wearer? Just when you think Logan’s used up his bag of costume tricks, in the final scene Dracula appears the most sparkly transfixing figure yet, but I’ll let you experience that on your own.
What impresses most about this DRACULA is how it leans into its horror while refusing sentimentality. McNulty’s choice to portray Dracula as predator (not tortured romantic) is honored here. That clarity gives other elements room to breathe: the trauma of Lucy’s affliction, Mina’s struggle with memory and agency, Van Helsing’s moral burden, Seward’s scientific disbelief challenged by the impossible.