Review: Immersive and untethered to reality, Jobsite’s ‘Alice’ is an eclectic, episodic journey full of fun

Most regular Tampa Bay theatergoers know Spencer P. Meyers from his charismatic performances as Hedwig or, perhaps as a henchman of Arturo Ui. But his inspired drawings and obsession with Lewis Carroll have spawned a unique cabaret entertainment where the entire visual aesthetic that Jobsite Theater’s usual suspects have created is a unique mashup to take audiences down Alice’s rabbit hole at the Shimberg Playhouse through June 4.

Tampa restaurants Koya, Lilac and Rocca earn city's first ever Michelin stars Center stage on Brian Smallheer’s checkerboard proscenium set with echos of M.C. Escher, sits Jeremy Douglass beneath headphones as he coaxes all manor of notes and sounds from double keyboards and electronic gizmos in an 85-minute score which ricochets from weird polkas to faux Kurt Weill. Douglass and his daughter, Juniper, have crafted the music and lyrics with help from cast members Colleen Cherry and Kasondra Rose—plus some words cribbed directly from Carroll. Mark Warren (strings) and Elwood Bond (drums) are splendidly offstage so as to not divert our attention when Douglass employs that most delicious and theatrical of instruments—the melodica. You know you’ve gone through the looking glass when you see and hear the almost ridiculous sounds of a miniature lung powered keyboard.

Director/adapter David M. Jenkins has partnered with Meyers and Katrina Stevenson, who not only created a plethora of memorable costumes echoing Carroll’s “literary nonsense,” but with Ms. Rose, has choreographed fun, whole-cast sequences and their own dazzling aerial lyra hoop bits that defy gravity and give a new twist to the Tweedledee and Tweedledum “sisters.”
Meyers’ delightful fantasy world of anthropomorphic creatures comes in all shapes and sizes from tiny one-person miniatures to enormous constructions operated by four performers. 

The main anchor is the splendid honey-voiced Julia Rifino as Alice, who manages her puppet with Lisa Simpson eyes to great effect. She continually strikes the right tone navigating this topsy-turvy world where “being so many sizes in a day is very confusing.”

The inimitable Colleen Cherry first appears as the “frumious” (fuming and furious) Bandersnatch with black lipstick, black pantaloons, and a zip-up leather bustier barely able to contain its contents. Her long black locks turn a flaming red as they tumble down her back toward a sheer multi-layer half-petticoat piped with scarlet trim. Just when you think she’s a frightening presence, she returns as the the tyrannical and deranged Queen of Hearts with a sadistic penchant for beheadings. On her right hand is the diminutive King hand puppet—clad in red with a cape trimmed in white fur to match his wild Einsteinesque mane.

The other multi-talented largely puppet-free ensemble members are Robert Spence Gabriel (Jabberwocky, Knave of Hearts) and Donovan Whitney (Mad Hatter, White Knight, Caterpillar). Ryan Sturm gets the plum job of bringing three distinct puppet characters vividly to life (White Rabbit, March Hare, Mock Turtle). His “Avenue Q” bona fides pay off in spades.

A jaunty oompah vamp drives the quick-paced melody as the cast rhythmically pounds the table, claps, flips and tosses metal cups like a factory assembly line: “My argument is ironclad, we’re all a little mad, I like what I get, I get what I like.” But then lest we miss the deterministic, pessimistic message, the chorus slows to a legato finish repeating “we’re all a little mad.”

Since the immersive, environmental nature of the show is untethered to reality, Jenkins throws in everything but the kitchen sink for your divertissement—flamingo mallets, undulating fabric “water,” audience members reading lines from cards, rippling ribbons, a rainbow of toy trumpets, and a duo of cutout waves undulating—just to mention a few.

Jo Averill-Snell’s evocative lighting includes psychedelic black light to enliven the hookah-smoking caterpillar and the Cheshire Cat. I understand the impulse to use checkerboard front light echoing the scenic elements, but I often found the focus in the wrong spot with dark shadows on the eyes or mouths, for example, while a neck or ear glowed a bit too bright. Especially in the world of Jabberwocky where the text or lyrics might be unfamiliar. “Twas brillig, and the slithy toves / Did gyre and gimble in the wabe” is difficult enough on its own.
The tale of the walrus and the carpenter is particularly fun, with Meyers crafting two dimensional talking portraits. As they tell the tale, Jib-Jab style, we observe a sea of tiny oysters with little tap-dancing legs. “The time has come,’ the walrus said.” And the jolly little mollusks one by one meet their inevitable gastronomic fate—I trust with a piquant mignonette.

Another inspired romp is the Mock Turtle’s Lobster Quadrille, with almost the entire cast as giant crustaceans in a kick line plus dolphin, fish and turtle cutouts dancing to English music hall vamping. It’s an eclectic, episodic journey full of fun with plenty of visual and musical interest. You’ll want to hop on Amazon to get yourself some cool puppets and a snazzy melodica. Trust me; leave this to the pros at Jobsite.

Tickets to see Jobsite Theater's "Alice" inside the Shimberg Playhouse at David A. Straz Center for the Performing Arts in Tampa from May 11-June 4 are on sale now and start at $29.50.

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