Theater Reviews: Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson and more

THEATER PICK: BLOODY BLOODY ANDREW JACKSON“Revisionist history” doesn’t even start to describe this wild and wicked take on the life and times of the seventh president — let’s just say it won’t be necessary to read any Arthur Schlesinger Jr. to prepare for this musical by Alex Timbers (book) and Michael Friedman (music and lyrics). Timbers (A Very Merry Unauthorized Children’s Scientology Pageant, Hell House) imagines Jackson (Benjamin Walker) as a boyish, passive-aggressive frontiersman, thrust into greatness by historical circumstances, whose bigotry and messianic sense of manifest destiny lead him to eradicate much of America’s Indian population. He is also a populist rock & roll god battling foppish Washington elites while riding the thundering crest of Friedman’s guitar-heavy score. By turns campy and politically snide, the story is so over the top with its hey-dude vernacular speech and cartoon history lessons that we fear it will never step into bigger shoes. Eventually it does, however, as Jackson’s early mistreatment of the Indians comes back to haunt him as president during the Indian-removal campaign. (Parallels with our current president are visible, but the Bush buttons mercifully don’t get pushed too often.) The acrobatic ensemble, like everything else under Timbers’ manic direction, runs with the timing of a giant pinball game. Emily Rebholz’s costumes are mostly anachronistic (lots of cowboy outfits) yet match the show’s malarial conjuring of the past. Bart Fasbender’s sound flawlessly amps the band while hitting the many sound-effects cues, and Jeff Crointer’s lighting emphasizes this circus’s Macbeth-like undercurrent. Finally, Robert Brill’s set (part saloon, part music hall) features a large upstage diorama of North American mammals — which, by play’s end, will figure as a sardonic judgment as Jackson’s youthful wilderness is transformed into the suburban prairie. KIRK DOUGLAS THEATRE, 9820 Washington Blvd., Culver City; Tues.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 6:30 p.m.; mats Sat., 2 p.m. & Sun., 1 p.m.; thru Feb. 17. No perfs Feb. 5-8. (213) 628-2772. (Steven Mikulan)

Benjamin Walker as the title character in Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson (Click to enlarge)

Ben Kusler

Chuck DiMaria in Hedwig and the Angry Inch (Click to enlarge)

The Last Days of Desmond Nani Reese (Click to enlarge)

GO  ARE YOU DELICIOUS? The comedy troupe Dynamite Kablammo serves up wit and talent in a performance that opens on a note of horror. The protagonist (actor/director Greg Kaczynski) in an Edgar Allan Poe-like episode attempts to seal up his companion (Dane Biren) behind a layer of bricks; a moment later, said companion pops up out of a surprise window announcing his discovery of a nightclub — bump-'n'-grind music blasts, drunk horny girls call out to him. The series of sketches that follows continues to surprise. The troupe rattles the audience with tummy-shaking humor: A swashbuckling pirate asserts, "A fish fucked a rock and that's how turtles came to be"; a comedian (Dana DeRuyck) hires an "insecurity" guard to remind her of her shortcomings so she can use the material; things get a little hairy, literally, when a girl (DeRuyck) starts taking hormones and her boyfriend (Matt DeNoto) has to deal. There's even an unforgettable, perverse love ballad about divorce. A number of scenes inevitably dip into sitcom land, but with such a delectable array of fast-moving sketches, the show remains savory. Among the fine cast, standouts Biren, DeNoto and DeRuyck prove to be the kind of folks you want to be your b.f.f., to sit on your couch and make you laugh. Kaczynski's dynamic directing provides swift pacing, and sound/tech maestro Adam Neubauer puts the "ammo" in Dynamite Kablammo. ZJU THEATER GROUP, 4850 Lankershim Blvd., N. Hlywd.; Tues., 8:30 p.m.; thru Feb. 19. (818) 202-4120 or www.Zombiejoes.com. (Sophia Kercher)

GO  IL BIDONE Part of a trilogy that includes La Strada and Nights of Cabiria, Federico Fellini's 1955 film Il Bidone grew out of the Italian neo-realist movement, revolving around three con men who roamed the countryside swindling the poor. Adapter-director Patrick Mapel has taken the basic story and — utilizing the talents of a gifted design team — wrapped it with the fantastical elements associated with the director's later work. Augusto (Ralph P. Martin) is an aging hustler whose sole aim in life is pulling off the successful scam — until a chance meeting with his estranged teenage daughter (Andrea Tzvetkov) provokes a change of heart. His cohort Roberto (Ben Messmer) is an inveterate womanizer, while the trio's weakest link, Picasso (York Griffith), struggles to juggle his life of crime with his more benign persona as artist and family man. This is an impressively mounted production, executed with aplomb by a solid ensemble. Okulus Anomali's music, Fionnagan Murphy's sound, Jeffrey Elias Teeter's lighting and Janne Larsen's set blend to create a haunting aura that is both whimsical and harsh. It's an ironic backdrop to what ultimately emerges as gripping human drama. (Eric Michael Nolfo serves as technical director.) One important reservation: If you haven't seen the film, you might find the shifts in the episodic plot difficult to follow. A "chorus" of five performers, in clown costumes, portray a variety of characters, and their metamorphoses were not always clear to me. Some further clues — more pronounced costume changes or props or simply a note in the program — would be helpful. Rushforth Productions at BOOTLEG THEATER, 2220 Beverly Blvd., L.A.; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; thru Feb. 24. (213) 389-3856 or www.­rushforthproductions.com. (Deborah Klugman)CHERRY POPPIN' PLAY FESTIVAL: FRIDAY NIGHT BILL Justin Wheeler's Arc of Joan spins G.B. Shaw's meditation on spirituality and sacrifice — Saint Joan — into a lighthearted update featuring the devil (Jerry James), whom his droll assistant (Steve Sornbutnark) wakes from a centurieslong nap. Lucifer has a quota to fill, and there simply aren't enough incoming souls. For this reason, he contrives to breach the treaty between England and France (peace is so bad for business) by employing an innocent 13-year-old girl, Joan of Arc (Sarah Brooks, in a lovely performance), to stir the French soldiers against the Brits. The angel Michael (Jeremy Aluma) also makes a spectacle-laced entrance. The larger point of hell just being another global corporation has sly appeal, but Andrew Eiden's pallid staging — literally in dim pools — works against the comic tone. Brian Addison's Beco/Me juxtaposes the horrors at a Gitmo-like detention center against a Nazi concentration camp in a docudrama that parallels the plight of a Muslim enemy combatant (Angel Correa) with that of a Jewish internee (Ivan Rodriguez). It's both sobering and, at this point, painfully obvious — the pain deriving from both the powerful imagery and our familiarity with it. The play's overstatement is offset, somewhat, by Olivia Trevino's artful, choreographic staging. Alive Theatre at THE GARAGE THEATRE, 251 E. Seventh St., Long Beach; Fri., Jan. 25, 8 p.m.; (562) 433-8337. For information on Saturday and Sunday bills, visit www.myspace/alivetheatre. (Steven Leigh Morris)