The Color Purple

The informal rule of casino-housed production shows is that they last 90 minutes and have no intermission—primarily to minimize time away from gambling. The Smith Center for the Performing Arts has no such obligation. And right on cue, I had a few Pavlovian fidgets 90 minutes into the 145-minute musical (not counting the 15-minute intermission) The Color Purple. But whenever my muscles twitched, the fantastic performance pulled me back in. (Blame my Vegas frame of reference if I saw a little Cirque in the tribal dancing and a little House of Blues gospel brunch in the ensemble songs.)

The Color Purple was the perfect choice for launching The Smith Center’s Broadway series. Sure, I had a little trepidation before the curtains went up. The show just seemed so … literary. The source material, a novel of the same name, won the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award. But I needn’t have worried. The musical turned out to be joyous and fun, comical and sexy (especially the juke joint scenes).

But here’s the kicker: That literary pedigree gave The Color Purple one hell of a narrative backbone—it follows the life of Celie, a poor, repressed and abused 14-year-old girl in Depression-era Georgia who blooms into a self-possessed woman. The story’s emotional depth counterbalanced the show’s ear-candy to offer a delightful experience and the best of both worlds. ★★★★☆

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Total GWAR

Music

Total GWAR

By Jarret Keene

Costumed, comedy shock rockers GWAR, from Richmond, Va., have been slinging fake gore at audiences and performing absurd songs such as “You Are My Meat” for more than 20 years. Vegas Seven called the band’s frontman, Dave Brockie, a.k.a. Oderus Urungus (an intergalactic, horned humanoid barbarian), who refused to break character. Indeed, Brockie insisted on conversing as if he’s really the chief “chaos warrior intent on eradicating all life on Earth—even the tiny, helpless creatures.” GWAR’s most recent album is 2010’s Bloody Pit of Horror.

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