THE RAINMAKER
About
In the show, Lizzie capably takes care of the men in her house, but there’s emptiness in her life. She has no one of her own, and she dreams of a husband and children. A visit to her cousins, actually a failing attempt to find a prospective mate, has left her more frustrated than ever.
The recurrent reminders that she is considered “plain” by her family and herself do not relieve her fears of winding up as the “maiden aunt.” The Curry farm, like all those around them, is impacted by a withering and persistent drought. Suddenly, a charismatic stranger named Starbuck appears, claiming that he can make the clouds come and the rains fall.
REVIEWS
“Unless you see the current production of The Rainmaker, you’ve simply never seen this play. Each performance should be distilled, bottled, and preserved for posterity but the standout of this cast is TANNA FREDERICK – who by some magic of theatrical alchemy – performs a transformation not to be missed!
All of the players are ablaze in this terrific production of N. Richard Nash’s The Rainmaker, thanks to Jack Heller’s careful direction. But bottom line, the play belongs to Tanna Frederick as Lizzie – Meryl Streep couldn’t do it better!
If Robert Standley is The Rainmaker – and he most flamboyantly is – then Jack Heller must be the star maker for the way he directs Tanna Frederick in her role as Lizzie, literally changes her persona to turn in a magnificent performance.
Tanna Frederick plays Lizzie. She is both funny and touching at times. Her range is so huge, she can go from laughing to crying in a heartbeat. We feel deeply for Lizzie and want her to find that man.
Her hair pulled back into quite possibly the tightest bun on record and her face wiped clean of every trace of makeup, Frederick vanishes inside Lizzie’s plain-Jane skin, giving us a woman whose hopes and dreams have evaporated like whatever moisture there once was on the parched earth around her. The indie film star, previously seen at the Edgemar in Henry Jaglom’s multiple Scenie-winning Just 45 Minutes From Broadway, gives us a heartbreaking real, three-dimensional Lizzie, from her spunk and grit to her refusal to be a flirtatious bubblehead (though she does do a hilariously over-the-top imitation of one) to her very real longing to fit in, to be the swan rather than the awkward duckling.
