UPDATE: Angel Street (Gaslight) Nominated for a TBA Award!
See all the links to Bay Area reviews and praise:
"As Mrs. M., Adrian Deane is a revelation of realistic portrayal. Her maddened state is a painfully truthful representation of a mind under siege, never trusting itself, and completely controlled by a stronger will."
"Adrian Deane radiates fearful anxiety under meek reserve as Bella Manningham."
"Adrian Deane captures both Mrs. Manningham’s fragility and strength in a stirring performance."
OCTOBER 20 - NOVEMBER 5, 2017
Adrian Deane (Mrs. Bella Manningham): "Without the sinister husband, or the extensive tea set, I am Bella, a woman who wants to be loved and be known, who is learning all the ways those two wants can get tangled up. Gaslight was introduced to me early on as one of a genre of films that presents a woman who is unknown both to her partner, whose love for her is more important than herself, and also therefore to herself. Bella's desire to be loved, or rather, her fear of losing love, threatens to blind her from everything she knows is true, about herself even. And although I'm not fighting for my life with a disarmingly charming detective in a shady Victorian house, I am on the same journey as Bella: of discovering the courage to declare and know myself. Whiskey may assist."
Adrian Deane (Mrs. Manningham) is mad with love for Role Players and the opportunity to help finish building Bella's Angel Street home with Alan, Dorian, Jeanette, and Jess. She is grateful to these cast mates for encouraging her to light up the stage with them, and to her director, Chloe, for knowing how to encourage just a little more darkness. Wildest thanks are for her parents for indoctrinating her into literature of unknown women, for her sister, Alex, for the best education on true love's crazy, and for Maggie the cat for teaching her that a little cuckoo gets a lot of scratches and a lot of scratches can raise a little cuckoo.
She knows not what she knows she knows but thinking makes it so.
She strives to speak the language of her Love: the honest show.
Her words once learned and counted in first measured audio
Do tell the tale of choose-your-own but still find: Friend or Foe.
She knows not what she knows she knows but speaking makes it so.
Yet give her just one echo of her tone from cast tableau,
Found free in bouncy beaux and cheery chat of social throws,
And suddenly she hears her voice translate into shadow.
She knows not what she knows she knows but sharing makes it so.
Alone can hold the hearing truth for just so long below—
But second her and overrule insanity’s plateau.
Reiterate her, justify, Her Other Auto-Bio.
She knows not what she knows without her solitude in tow.
To meet the world with words is to be met right back with woe.
What game is this long lesson of whose lingua lasts and grows?
Her thought-idiolect won’t hold alone the love she knows.