Buntport Theater always moves beyond not only what anyone else has ever done, but also what they themselves have done before. With their new production, Wake, they present an alternate universe to Shakespeare’s Tempest through a collage of sounds, visuals, dialogue, and emotion, asking “What if the ship never came?”

Buntport creates a world where Prospero, Miranda, Caliban, and Ariel face interminable waiting, always looking for a ship, knowing Shakespeare’s lines to say when it arrives, rehearsing for a performance that never happens. In this universe, Prospero can control the weather, but cannot bring his enemies to him. In Caliban’s words, “the future holds nothing … just like the past.”

With a beautiful, functional, and integrated set, and creatively adapted electronic audio elements incorporated throughout, nothing in this story is as expected. Buntporters Erik Edborg, Erin Rollman, Brian Colonna, SamAnTha Schmitz, Hannah Duggan, and Evan Weissman, collaborating with composer Adam Stone, weave a tale growing out The Tempest, seizing particularly on one quote, creating an alternate view of that world that is both consistent with and completely unlike the world of Shakespeare’s play. The story is told nonlinearly, jumping between times, slowly revealing both what happened and why.

Ships leave a wake when they pass. With Wake, Buntport looks at the wake of a ship that never passes. The play is intriguing, the sounds are multi-dimensional, Shakespeare’s words are used and twisted, and the acting (particularly Rollman as Miranda) is phenomenal. This is challenging stuff, and at the end and probably long after, you’ll be thinking about what you have experienced. Lastly, after the show, stay and ask Stone to describe his amazing electronic creations — but don’t touch!

-Craig Williamson, February 7, 2013, North Denver Tribune

Developed from scratch (as always) by the six brilliantly creative Buntporters and collaborator Adam Stone, Sweet Tooth is the story of a woman, George (“because that is what she should be called”), and her two companions, or more aptly “enablers.” George is obsessed with the artistic and aesthetic. Because the real world can never live up to her standards of beauty and art, she has isolated herself in her home, with her maid Hortense and her “Mister” to immerse her in “experienceless experiences” which emulate reality, but with complete artistic control. This strange existence would continue unabated if not for the reality of a painful abscessed tooth, which becomes so severe that a dentist is brought in, abruptly bringing the real world with him. The results of this clash are unexpected, and the second act brings a resolution and an unsettling integrity to George’s life.How do they do it? Sweet Tooth, Buntport Theater’s latest original creation, is a fully developed two-act musical that builds an absurd world that seems reasonable, and then injects reality into that world, with unexpected results. There is the usual Buntport humor, but it is not as dominant as in past productions, and is imbued with thoughtful and challenging content. The music is fully integrated into the production, with some more traditionally structured songs, and other sections of sung dialogue, adding another dimension to the performance throughout. I was moved, intrigued, entertained, fascinated, and fully engaged throughout this amazing production.

Normally in a review, I summarize the premise of the story, then talk about the director, cover the acting, and then the design. Buntport completely messes that up. Everything is integrated into a whole, and there are never lines between the different aspects of the production. That said, the elements normally attributed to the director were well coordinated and fit perfectly with the story. The formal staging and blocking throughout reinforced the aesthetic focus of George’s world. The choreography carried that even further. The attention to detail and internal consistency throughout was remarkable — much of it in the background, not clearly noticeable, but always there.

Erin Rollman is George, “smitten by unreality.” The story and show revolve around her. Rollman brings complete credibility to this absurd role. We watch her, and her actions and reactions make this strange situation believable. She can emotionally turn on a dime, and she uses her very expressive face wonderfully. Hannah Duggan is Hortense, George’s devoted maid, and the enabler of the staged experiences. When the level of that devotion is raised in the second act, Duggan makes the unbelievable seem almost natural. Brian Colonna is Mister, George’s lover, companion, and personal artist. His character is less completely drawn into George’s world, and has real world concerns because of his love for her. Erik Edborg brings the real world into the sanctuary as Dr. Manette, the dentist called in for a house call. Edborg initially presents a start contrast and reminds us how strange George’s world that we had become used to really is. But then like us, he is drawn into it, but as we watch him change, we realize that the stakes were higher than we thought.

Buntport develops the sets and costumes in the same way they do everything, and this show highlights the benefits of that approach. The show opens with flowing white drapes indicating a vast expanse of cold and snow, but they are then ripped down to reveal an oddly proportioned very red room, which impeccably captures how a room in George’s home would look, unnatural though it is. The caving scene is an example of the unique yet brilliant effects of Buntport’s collaborative design approach — it was remarkable. As an experienced lighting designer, it is difficult for me to admit this, but no traditional lighting designer could have conceived anything as unique and effective as the lighting for this scene.

The Buntport actors are not professionally trained singers, and musically, they are not pitch-perfect all the time, but that is not a problem. They have added vocal amplification while singing, which really helps balance the voices and music, and makes it easier to understand the lyrics, which is important for following the story. Rollman’s singing voice is very good, and the others do not try to do more than they can, keeping the music consistent. Adam Stone’s music has variety and is integrated well into both the plot and the overall production concept.

It continues to amaze me that Buntport Theater can consistently create fully developed productions from nothing in a few months. Sweet Tooth is the latest proof of this, but even more so. This musical is brilliant, funny, challenging, and unsettling.

-Craig Williamson, October 31, 2012, North Denver Tribune

Buntport Theater is presenting a revival of their look into the life of Franz Kafka, presented on ice (literally). While this would be inconceivable for any other company, for Buntport it makes perfect sense. While Kafka on Ice may sound like the latest beverage offering from Starbucks, it’s really a wonderful show that combines the meaning and depth of Kafka, extreme silliness, thoughtful humor, and surrealism.

Kafka on Ice creatively merges elements of Franz Kafka’s life and his most famous work, mixing in a lot of comedy, some thoughtful commentary, and a few invented details. Created collaboratively from scratch in 2004 by the then seven members of Buntport (Matt Petraglia has since moved on to other things) and local actor Gary Culig using their usual blend of research, brainstorming, and their intrinsic comic brilliance. The story follows Kafka through some important and some obscure times in his life, and parallels them with the characters in his Metamorphosis. And all the characters except Kafka himself perform the entire show on ice skates on an artificial skating surface. Buntport normally creates unusual situations for their productions, but this is probably the most appropriate, putting the whole thing in a context that Kafka would have appreciated, if he could have gotten past the fact that it was about him.

As with all things Buntport, the directing is collaborative, and works very well. Presented in the round, the action most often moves along the diagonals (at times quite quickly – they are on ice skates, after all), with scenes set center stage or in the corners, balancing the view from all sides. Another aspect of theater in the round that really fits this show well is that while watching the show, you also see the audience on the other sides, usually laughing heartily. You never forget you are in a theater. The show is chock full of clever and funny devices, including a prize fight between two bugs, a wonderful silent movie sequence, and several other surprises that I won’t reveal here. While the show is very funny, it is not just silliness – there is thought as well.

The acting is exception. Josh Hartwell takes on the role of Kafka, anchoring the show with genuine sympathy for his character. While he is certainly idiosyncratic, Hartwell does not ridicule the character, he elicits sympathy and understanding. And while very strange things happen around him, he never loses the sense of Kafka. The Buntport actors adopt a variety of rolls. Erin Rollman covers the range from the mother to incidental characters to a variety of love interests well, making each unique, but she is best as a modern teacher talking right at the audience. Erik Edborg is stern and domineering as the father, adding humor with his descriptions of how hard it was when he was young.

Brian Colonna is Kafka’s friend Max, sympathetic to a point, but also pragmatic – he is the one who disobeyed Kafka’s strict instructions to destroy his writings after his death. Hannah Duggan covers many small roles well, including compassionately playing the one woman that finally makes Kafka happy near the end of his life. Evan Weissman is fun as Janouch, the young man who allegedly remembered many conversations with Kafka long after the writer’s death.

The set is minimal by necessity, dominated by the large square of artificial ice. Kafka’s desk is an important element, changing at times to meet the needs of a scene, and the large almost cartoonish book of his writing is woven throughout in different and creative ways. The lighting works well, providing good illumination enhanced by the light-colored floor surface. The select use of projections was very effective, too. The costumes are creative and appropriate, ranging from figure-skating attire to historical fashion, all able to be changed with skates on. Sound is also an important element, with particularly effective bug noises integrated into several scenes.

Buntport’s brilliance is to take an idea or a concept, and tell a story around that idea or concept that is first and foremost true to itself, but also incredibly funny and thoughtful. Kafka on Ice is further proof of this brilliance, presenting Kafka’s life and work in a Kafkaesque way – on ice. This show is a must see for Kafka fans, for Buntport fans, for theater fans – okay, for just about anyone.

-Craig Williamson, February 3, 2011, North Denver Tribune

It almost seems unfair – each time I go to Buntport Theater, I expect something unique, unexpected, clever, hilarious, thoughtful, challenging – in short, I expect brilliance. This would be unfair, except that I have yet to be disappointed. Somehow, the six Buntporters are constantly able to expand what they do – they rarely go in the same direction twice. And their works are not just thrown together – they are complete, well-developed and structured stories that are engaging and insightful. Their latest creation, a musical called Jugged Rabbit Stew, is dark, funny, bizarre, thought-provoking, and edgy.

Jugged Rabbit Stew is about Snowball, a rabbit that is pulled out of a magician’s hat. The twist is that snowball has real magical powers. This makes the shows he does with Alec the Amazing and All-Powerful magician popular and successful – until something goes very wrong. Snowball is not a happy, cute bunny – he is angry, cynical, and mean. He has a bizarre collection of things, which exists as a result of his efforts to make others unhappy. He randomly rearranges body parts on several other characters for the same reason. But when he “collects” a fan of the magic show, he is frustrated that she refuses to be unhappy.

This is a musical, and composer, lyricist, and music director Adam Stone has written a nice variety of songs that fit into the story well. The music is prerecorded, and the quality of the singing is somewhat variable, but certainly good enough for the intent of the show. It also allowed for some very creative and funny ways of using microphones. And as with any good musical, the songs add another layer of emotion and context to the story. Buntport’s collaborative directing is excellent. The formal layout of the action on stage reinforces the interplay between the characters and provides an interesting and constantly changing visual image. The six members of the company are all involved throughout the development, so they understand the story perfectly and can integrate all aspects of the show completely. The pacing is spot-on, the musical numbers are integrated seamlessly and cleverly, and everything operates as a cohesive whole.

The acting is strong, with the story adding challenges that the company rises to. Eric Edborg is Snowball, and performs with a rabbit mask that covers part of his face. He more than makes up for this by using his voice and the rest of his body to communicate. He is angry and bitter, but also captures just enough of the essence of being a rabbit to make the character work without overdoing it. Hannah Duggan is Mystical Marla, the beautiful assistant with misplaced body part problems. Duggan’s movement convinces us that her body is not all her own – resulting in great physical comedy. Evan Weissman is the magician Alec – less his right arm. Weissman is the consummate showman, falling naturally into a presentational announcer’s voice frequently. Brian Colonna is Alec’s Right Arm (don’t try and figure it out – just know that it works). The two work together well, and get into some very funny arguments. Both also handle the restrictions on their movement and expressiveness very well. As the Woman, Erin Rollman is bubbly, enthusiastic, happy, and romantic, but also has more. She adeptly becomes serious as things progress.

As with all aspects of their shows, the six (the five actors listed above and SamAnTha Schmitz “off stage”) design the set, lighting, and costumes. The set, nicely framed by a proscenium of drapes, includes all sorts of things hanging suspended from above, and a floor covered in newspapers. The lighting provides good illumination, and includes some nice effects for some of the songs. The costumes are notable as well; especially Snowball’s mask, and the integrated costumes of Alec and his Arm. In Jugged Rabbit Stew, Buntport creates a sort of alternative universe, which is a lot like our own, but with a few important differences. But while the story exists in a different world, it is true to that world – and the feelings, relationships, and situations are authentic and relate to our world. While this may sound impossible (if you have never been to Buntport), it works flawlessly. The show is about fate and how we deal with what life gives us, and asks the question of whether we can control our destiny – or maybe suggests we can only control it by fulfilling it. It is funny, edgy, deep, unpredictable, and in the end, meaningful – and certainly worth seeing.

-Craig Williamson, June 3, 2010, North Denver Tribune

Buntport Theater and Paragon Theatre have coordinated efforts this season to present two facets of a landmark American play, Eugene O’Neill’s Long Day’s Journey Into Night. Paragon is presenting a full production of this epic play in their new facility on South Santa Fe, and Buntport has created The World is Mine, an original world premiere that takes place in the mind of Eugene O’Neill as he struggles to come to terms with his life and family, and begins to write what would become his most famous work and receive a Pulitzer Prize. Both shows are good individually, but seeing them both adds a level of understanding that enhances both, giving “the full experience.” I saw the two productions on consecutive evenings, starting with The World is Mine at Buntport, which is the order I will describe them here.

The World is Mine follows Eugene O’Neill inside his own mind as the playwright recovers from an appendectomy and struggles with writer’s block. The other characters are people from O’Neill’s life (his wife; a nurse), but they are all (and they admit this) projections of O’Neill himself – a fact we can’t forget because they all have the same mustache. The script wanders from dialogue to explicit stage directions to surrealism to theatricality, with brief interactions with the real world delivered straight out at the back of the audience. As O’Neill remembers the events of the past, he begins to pull together the play, enlisting whoever he needs at the moment for characters, with snippets of dialogue from Long Day’s Journey interspersed with his internal mental conversations.

Erik Edborg anchors the show as O’Neill, and is excellent at “turning on a dime.” He jumps from thoughtful introversion to dialogue, and from clever comedy to serious pain to silliness adroitly. As his wife, Carlotta, Erin Rollman is melodramatic and clever, and her sing-song voice adds an extra level to the characterization. Hannah Duggan is naïve and genuine as Cathleen, the nurse, contrasting the cynical superficiality of the other characters. As the Swedish Emissary, Brian Colonna is funny, but gets serious and even brutal when he steps into Jamie, O’Neill’s older brother, in the memory sequences.

The set, lighting, and costumes, created as always by the Buntport ensemble, fit the show well. The set has surreal and idiosyncratic elements that support the story, including some very funny ways that drinks appear or are filled, carrying through the alcohol that pervades Long Day’s Journey.

Long Day’s Journey Into Night is the story of one day, a very difficult day, for the Tyrone family. There is hope initially – the mother has shaken a long-term addiction to morphine and in spite of the usual sibling and parent-child bickering, things seem to be on the right track. But as the day progresses, things get worse, the arguments get more vicious, blame is bandied about, and everything falls apart.

The cast is superb. Kathryn Gray is Mary, showing beautiful tenderness, but lashing out in anger unexpectedly. Her bald-face denial of “I don’t know what you are talking about” is chilling. Her treatment of husband James, played by Jim Hunt, drives our sympathy – Hunt is loving and initially hopeful, but when things crumble, we feel his pain deeply. Michael Stricker is brother Jamie, hardened and cynical, but caring deep down. Brandon Kruhm is Edmund, the character O’Neill based on himself. Kruhm’s Edmund is sympathetic, truly caring about his family, and earnestly hoping that things will work out. Holly Ann Peterson rounds things out as Cathleen, the mostly comic maid, with an authentic thick Irish brogue.

David Lafont’s set design is clean and works well in-the-round, extending upward to define the space on stage. Brynn Starr Coplan’s costumes fit the period well, and carry through the palette of the scenery nicely. Unfortunately, Jen Orf’s lighting design caused some real problems – the lights glaring directly in my face for most of the show made even looking at the actors difficult at times. Perhaps it was because of unfamiliarity with the new space, or due to the challenges of a low ceiling and theatre in-the-round, but something went very wrong. Orf is an excellent and experienced designer – I just don’t understand what happened here.

Taken individually, these shows are both engaging and well-performed. After seeing The World is Mine, Long Day’s Journey Into Night seemed somehow more clear to me than it would otherwise have been. While some of what the Buntport ensemble included was based on fact, some was included to make a better story (just as O’Neill undoubtedly did in his play), but all increased the depth of my understanding. Long Day’s Journey is a very sad story, but a very real story about complex family relationships and the toll that secrets can take. As Mary puts it, “None of us can help what life has made of us.” It is not hopeful, but knowing that in the character of Edmund, O’Neill is representing himself added insights and gave the play some hope. These two plays are very different, but are tied together – both are worth seeing, even if you can only see one. But if you take advantage of the opportunity to see both, you will be rewarded with a unique perspective on one of this country’s most important playwrights

-Craig Williamson, February 16, 2010, North Denver Tribune

Buntport Theater continues to challenge themselves and their audiences, moving into a new realm with Indiana Indiana, an adaptation of Laird Hunt’s novel. Buntport has proven again and again that they can do many things well, particularly excellent comedy, but this production takes things in a much more serious, thoughtful, and even surreal direction, doing so beautifully. The production also integrates all aspects of the production brilliantly, with scenery, lighting, and projection all in tune to enhance the world of the play.

This play is a series of scenes that tell a story, but not in a conventional, linear sense. It is the story of the life of Noah Summers, told through his memories, which individually supply incomplete pictures of what has happened. We learn he was married, briefly – maybe. We meet his parents. We know and accept that “he just knows things that the rest of us don’t know,– and we get a visceral sense of the anguish he is feeling. Through the combination of all of these snippets of memory, we connect with him, even though his experiences are very unlike our own.

In spite of the nonlinearity of the story, the scenes are remarkably consistent in style and tone. As the focal point of the story, Noah wears a mask which sets him apart from the other characters. Scenes are staged creatively and diversely, helping to keep the audience in rapt attention throughout.

Evan Weissman is wonderfully understated and complex as Noah. He drifts through the show, onstage throughout, paradoxically anchoring things as they flow in all directions. His anguish is palpable, made the more remarkable as it comes and goes in the nonsequential scenes. All other characters are played by Erik Edborg, Hannah Duggan, and Brian Colonna, distinguishing the different roles through minor costume variation, vocal changes, and physical adjustments. Edborg is quirky, remorseful, and at times menacing as Virgil, Noah’s father. Colonna shows great range, first as the sympathetic and helpful Max, later as the Minister, a role with complexity and strength, and also as the Sheriff, nonjudgmentally looking to Noah for insights into unsolved cases. Duggan is appropriately maternal as Ruby, Noah’s mother, and efficient and by-the-book as the Nurse. Near the end she appears as Opal, delivering a very complex character that is both sympathetic and disturbing.

Normally, I separately describe the scenery and lighting, and credit the designers. Here, however, the Buntport ensemble has created an exquisite integrated visual collage that includes set, lighting, sound, and projections. The visual impact of the dramatic wall of jars is amazing. Bits and pieces of the set move on and off from all directions, with projections appearing and disappearing on any and all available surfaces. I can honestly say that I have never seen these technical aspects of a production integrated so completely and creatively into the action onstage as well as they are in Indiana Indiana. Without this tight integration, the impact of the show would have been less. Even the costumes, though somewhat neutral in tone, fit with everything else.

In the course of only about 80 minutes, Indiana Indiana gives the audience both an emotional and an intellectual understanding of the tragic, beautiful, and real life of Noah. Neither type of understanding is complete without the other, but combined, the whole person that we are connects with this character in a much more complete way. In the past, I’ve always left Buntport entertained, with a broad smile on my face. After Indiana Indiana, I was smiling, yes, but also thinking, feeling, pondering, and basking in the glow of a wonderful experience.

-Craig Williamson, September 15, 2009, North Denver Tribune

The talented folks at Buntport Theater have set their sights on musical theatre, creating their first all-original musical (their now legendary musical version of Titus Andronicus was based on Shakespeare, after all). They have taken the U.S. Postal Service as their “central metaphor for interconnectedness,” and built Seal. Stamp. Send. Bang. The result is a fun, funny, clever, unpredictable, and entertaining musical.

Seal. Stamp. Send. Bang. is the story of how the lives of eight characters intertwine. Several of them work for the Postal Service, and the mail plays a pivotal role in most of the surprising twists and turns the story takes. While there is a plot, this production is more about characters and relationships than storyline. Each new revealed connection between characters completes a piece of the story, until everything comes together by the end.

The script is what we expect from Buntport – an interesting story with diverse and well-developed characters that create unexpected situations and outcomes. Adam Stone has injected clever lyrics and synth-pop music that fit the story and the characters singing them well. The funniest number involves a singing and dancing package.

The production is well directed, though as with everything Buntport, direction is a collaborative effort. The timing is tight, perfect for quick comedy, and the constant details and small creative bursts seem limitless. The songs are integrated into the action on stage well, without any pretentious buildup or false theatricality.

Erin Rollman anchors the show as Susan, a cheerful, exuberant, optimistic mail carrier. The unlikely corner of a love triangle based on misunderstandings, she is happily oblivious to much of what goes on around her. Jason, played by Erik Edborg, is compulsive and voyeuristic as he deals with “dead letters” that can’t be delivered. Edborg captures the essence of someone trapped inside an office, constantly looking at other people’s mail, but officially only enough to get a delivery address. Brian Colonna is Richard, the sadistic yet mousy security enforcer, always looking to catch someone doing something wrong. Daphne, played psychotically by Hannah Duggan, is a woman on the edge. She is seething with anger, but the expression of that anger is annoying and, well, just weird – but hilariously so. Rounding out things on stage is Evan Weissman, playing all the other roles needed. As Ethan, he is sheepish and infatuated, but unable to express his love directly. But he transforms himself completely into several other characters as well.

The set is modular and integrated well into the show, with several different homes transforming into offices, interiors, or mail trucks when needed. The lighting is clever, much more of an element than in past Buntport shows. I particularly liked the creative follow spot use, run deftly from the booth by SamAnTha Schmitz. The costumes were appropriate, with each helping to reinforce the character wearing it. This show also called for a higher level of sound integration, which worked well for the most part. The transition in mid-song from full reinforcement to a simulated Walkman sound was very clever.

Seal. Stamp. Send. Bang. is just plain fun. The music is interesting and enjoyable, the choreography is silly and a wonderful parody of musical theatre, and the hilarious story twists will catch you off guard. The play is about interconnections and misconnections, and while there may not be as much depth or insight as in recent Buntport offerings, that doesn’t matter. This show is about fun, comedy, and entertainment, and it hits that target squarely on the bulls-eye.

—Craig Williamson, March 19, 2009, North Denver Tribune

Many theatre companies occasionally develop spoofs of classic theatre and come up with very funny productions. Buntport Theater never makes it that easy on themselves. All their productions are original creations, and to call them take-offs or spoofs sells them short. Musketeer, the latest Buntport creation, is (of course) very funny, includes some clever plot twists and time warping devices, and has, dare I say it, an almost deep message about art and creativity.

A word about Buntport: six people collaboratively develop all aspects of each show, including writing, directing, designing, and acting. While my reviews normally mention each role and discuss that person’s contribution, that makes no sense with Buntport. Suffice to say, when I talk about each component of the production, credit goes to all six œ Erin Rollman, Hannah Duggan, Erik Edborg, Brian Colonna, Evan Weissman, and SamAnTha Schmitz.

Musketeer starts with the (presumably) factual exhumation in 2002 of the body of Alexander Dumas, author of The Three Musketeers, in order to be reburied in the Pantheon in Paris. The twist comes from the accusation that Dumas based his most famous story on an obscure book entitled The Memoirs of Mister D’Artagnan, which he allegedly borrowed from the Marseilles Public Library and never returned. In Buntport’s story, a present-day librarian hears that Dumas’ body is being moved, and decides to get the long overdue book back (and collect a huge fine). The challenge of getting a book from a man dead for 132 years doesn’t seem to daunt her in any way, and the fun begins. The story bounces back and forth between the past and the present, and between reality and imagination, drawing the audience along at every step.

The staging of Musketeer is clever and effective. The actors use the small space and interact with the few scenic elements well. I particularly like the staging of Charlotte and Dumas jammed into the casket together, part live and part projected onto a screen. The pacing is quick and the comic timing strong.

The acting ensemble is well balanced, with all actors contributing. Erin Rollman is Charlotte, the librarian, with many wonderful small character bits that really establish her personality clearly. Opposite her and in contrast is Evan Weissman as the writer Dumas. Charlotte and Dumas represent the two extremes of rationality and expression, and they battle delightfully throughout the show. As the three musketeers, both present and past, real and imagined, Hannah Duggan, Erik Edborg, and Brian Colonna all capture the essence of their characters’ personalities. In the present, they show flashes of their parallel selves from the past, giving the intertwined stories a strong connection.

The set is creative and effective. The two main elements are a set of three rear projection screens, and a casket on wheels that transforms into a carriage. I’ve seen projections used in live theatre every once in a while, but rarely are they integrated into the action of the play as completely as they are in Musketeer. The projections are sometimes just background, sometimes informational, but occasionally move into the foreground and become an integral part of the action. The transformation of the casket into a carriage and back again helps change the setting from real to imaginary each time it happens. The costumes also help reinforce the parallels between the two worlds, functioning both as anachronistic costumes in the present, and as appropriate attire in the past. The lighting is unremarkable but mostly all right. Occasionally it is a bit difficult to see into the carriage, but that does not detract much from the scene.

The message of Musketeer is that there is more to life than simple facts. Charlotte starts as a completely rational and sensible person, focused on facts. But Dumas convinces her of “the importance of disregarding the facts,” and that there is so much more œ art is what adds meaning and substance to life. At the risk of getting too deep, Buntport is really presenting the case for their very existence. Creativity and artistic expression can enhance reality and move it beyond the mundane. Perhaps at its best, art can confound and transcend reality. Okay, so that is probably way too deep. Let’s go with this: Musketeer is hilarious, clever, intriguing, and well worth seeing.

-Craig Williamson, September 1, 2008 , North Denver Tribune

Buntport Theatre is truly unique. They do theatre differently than any other company I’ve ever known. Instead of starting with a script, they start with something-it could be a book, an idea, a loose concept, or, as with their latest offering, a genre. Then they transform that into a play. But they do not do things simply or superficially, tempting thought that might be. They truly reinterpret the original material, and in doing so, create something fresh and new. Their current production, McGuinn & Murry, has fun with the detective story genre, but it has its own interesting storyline, fully defined characters, and clever twists and turns. And all elements of the play are created collaboratively and in parallel, allowing for more integration of elements such as costume, scenery, acting, and direction.

McGuinn & Murry is both a spoof and a tribute to the 1940’s detective story and Film Noir genre. The story starts with our two detectives waiting for work, killing time by making up mysteries to solve. One of these mysteries takes on a life of its own, creating much more than a simple mind exercise. McGuinn is on the case-and the fact that he is his own prime suspect doesn’t slow him down one bit. Murry joins in, at first thinking it is just a mind exercise, until both get swept up into a real mystery. Maybe.

The language of this play is brilliant. I’ve always loved the 1940’s detective movies, and the dialogue perfectly captures the genre. Both actors deliver their lines with just the right amount of affectation-it sets everything up so well. Most impressive is that this dialogue was created entirely by the Buntport crew, though they undoubtedly watched a few classic films along the way.

With only two actors playing all the roles, much of the show depends on Erin Rollman and Erik Edborg. Both are more than up to the task. Edborg captures the hard-boiled detective McGuinn well, and contrasts that with the fastidious Pauly. Rollman is very good as Murry, and brilliant as she transforms herself first in to the ditzy Budge, then into a barkeep, and finally completely changing her voice, stature, and gender to become the Fat Man. The culmination of the story is hilarious and delightful to watch, as both actors bounce back and forth between multiple clearly-defined characters, never missing a beat.

The scenery becomes almost a character on its own. It is one of the most transformable sets I have ever seen anywhere. There are many clever devices used throughout the show. The lighting is competent, providing some variety and good illumination. The costumes were, like the set, an integral part of the transformation of the actors. Simple but clear changes helped differentiate the characters well.

McGuinn & Murry is a pleasure to watch. The pacing is excellent, the plot twists and the multiple characterizations are incredibly creative, the dialogue is very funny, and the acting is top-notch. If you would like a fun evening of creative and clever theatre, then go see McGuinn & Murry at Buntport. And if you choose one of the right performances, you get the bonus of live local music beforehand.

-Craig Williamson, May 2008, North Denver Tribune