FringeArts Review: Saint Joan, Betrayed Is Everything the Fringe Should Be

Sometimes a Facebook status sums things up perfectly.

Last Friday night was a long one. I started out with The Renegade Company’s Bathtub Moby-Dick in Point Breeze at 6 p.m. before checking out the 8 p.m. A Doll’s House starring 14-year-old Mackenzie Maula at the Playground at the Adrienne.

And after a quick, late dinner at Marra’s, where I may have overdosed on garlic, it was time for the 10:30 p.m. showing of Saint Joan, Betrayed , an original piece about Joan of Arc by independent theater artists Mary Tuomanen (pictured) and Aaron Cromie.

And I’ll get to Saint Joan in a second.

Shortly after I published my rather negative review of A Doll’s House on this site over the weekend, Philadelphia actor Robert DaPonte, who did some voiceover work for that show, left a comment on the review, taking exception to it. Then he posted the following to Facebook:

“There is such a fine line between a theater review and a Facebook status update.”

I’m not sure if his Facebook post had anything to do with my review of A Doll’s House. Regardless, DaPonte is right. And sometimes, a Facebook status sums things up perfectly, and really no more needs to be said.

And so, I’ll let this show be summed up by local musician Max Guerin, who posted the following status on Facebook after seeing the same performance of Saint Joan, Betrayed that I saw on Friday:

“Aaron Cromie & Mary Tuomanen’s Joan of Arc Betrayed is everything the Fringe should be: unconventional theater in a small space, driven by interesting ideas. That it also happens to be beautifully executed is really just gravy.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself. I’m sure DaPonte will agree.

In any event, whatever your plans for this FringeArts season, make sure it includes this show.

Through September 14th
Tickets: $10 to $15

Other FringeArts Reviews By Victor Fiorillo
EgoPo’s The Doll’s House Is Not Fit For Human Consumption
My Kids Liked “Everything” About A Mystery?
Naked Man! Bathtub! Point Breeze!
Gunnar Montana’s Basement Is Some Crazy Shit