ENTERTAINMENT
By Michael Sragow and Michael Sragow,michael.sragow@baltsun.com | August 13, 2009
Before "Bandslam" came along, Maryland-bred actor Gaelan Connell's biggest role was Michael Darling in Irene Lewis' 2002 Center Stage production of "Peter Pan." "I got to fly," he whoops. "It was really cool. They had pirates and people flying across the stage and it was very magical. If you can imagine me at age 13, a much smaller me with even bigger hair. ..." Connell stops and laughs at the "surreality" of it all. He's gone from levitating in his jammies to playing the character in "Bandslam" who wins the trust of Aly Michalka and the heart of Vanessa Hudgens.
ENTERTAINMENT
By Edward Gunts, Sarah Kickler Kelber, Mary Carole McCauley, Rashod D. Ollison, Tim Smith and Michael Sragow | January 22, 2009
POP MUSIC Truckers tour Drive-By Truckers hail from Athens, Ga., and sport a sound that melds brash Southern hard rock with erudite lyrics. The band's style deepens on its latest album, the solid Brighter Than Creation's Dark, released early last year. The band performs tomorrow at Recher Theatre, 512 York Road, Towson. Tickets are $25. Call 410-547-7328 or go to ticketmaster.com. FILM 'Hook' The Rotunda Cinematheque is presenting a free showing at 10 a.m. Saturday of Hook, Steven Spielberg's 1991 movie about a grown-up Peter Pan (Robin Williams)
NEWS
By Mary Johnson and Mary Johnson,Special to The Baltimore Sun | January 11, 2009
In a production where the audience is asked to clap if it believes in magic and fairies, a dress rehearsal of Peter Pan easily accomplished its goal last week in the new, $1.8 million Children's Theatre of Annapolis on Broadneck Peninsula. Helping to create the magic is Robert Kauffman, the 71-year-old former Anne Arundel Community College performing arts chairman who was lured out of retirement by CTA to direct the opening production for its 286-seat theater. This is the same show that capped his 30-year AACC career in November 2002, a few months before his retirement.
FEATURES
By Michael Sragow and Michael Sragow,Sun Movie Critic | November 16, 2007
Every great magical fantasy contains a critical moment that tests the audience's belief, whether it's the near-death of a fairy in Peter Pan or the death and resurrection of a lion in The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. It usually comes well into the action, when the creators have already sucked us into a heady mixture of mythology and reverie. When similar movies fizzle, such as the recent The Seeker: The Dark is Rising and today's opening, Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium, it's often because of impatience: The filmmakers are like antsy little boys, itching to get to "the good stuff," not realizing that the stuff only gets good after it's been seasoned and prepared for. Magical movies, like poetic dramas, in an odd way need to be tough-minded: For us to suspend our disbelief, they must set out some underlying rule for the marvels, miracles and metaphors they spread out before us. Set in a magic toy store, Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium starts out several feet above the ground and never touches terra firma as it lays out the final days of the wonder-working title character.
NEWS
By Karen Nitkin and Karen Nitkin,Special to the Sun | November 14, 2007
Matt DeCaro, a junior at Wilde Lake High School, had been rehearsing the same line for weeks: "Second to the right, and straight on to morning," he said. But this time, when he pointed to the sky, his body slowly lifted off the floor. He was flying back and forth across the stage, and so were the actors playing the three Darling children, Wendy, John and Michael. Wilde Lake, home to the 750-seat Jim Rouse Theatre for the Performing Arts, has long been known for the high quality of its student productions.
NEWS
By Mary Carole McCauley and Mary Carole McCauley,Sun theater critic | August 26, 2007
Some of the most provocative and cutting-edge theater around these days is being mounted by volunteer actors working on tiny stages with less than 100 seats, where the production budget essentially consists of a ball of twine and two pieces of tape. Welcome to the weirdly exhilarating world of Baltimore's community theater, where a sofa can spend more time on stage than in its owner's living room, and where practitioners jealously guard their secret recipe for stage blood. In the coming season, the latter should be in great demand: Baltimore community theaters shows tend to go for the jugular.