Theater Reviews: A Lie of the Mind, Mercy Warren’s Tea, Molly, Extinction

Also, Chatsworth, Grace Kim & the Spiders From Mars, Post, and more

Comments (0) By L.A. Weekly Theater Critics Wednesday, Dec 2 2009

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GO HAMLET SHUT UP! Writer-director Jonas Oppenheim’s whimsical reimagining of Shakespeare’s play as a silent movie (music composed and performed by Josh Senick) comes packed with theatrical imagination and a robust sense of humor. It also raises the question of what body language can express, and in so doing just grazes the surface of Shakespeare’s multitextured play. Sacred Fools Theatre Company, 660 N. Heliotrope Drive, Hollywood; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m. (added perf Thursday, Dec. 17, 8 p.m.); through December 17. (310) 281-8337. (Steven Leigh Morris) See Theater feature.

GO HOW THE GRINCH STOLE CHRISTMAS! THE MUSICAL The familiar yuletide tale from Dr. Seuss gets a musical face-lift in a touring version of the Broadway production. Narrator Old Max (John Larroquette), a wiser incarnation of the dog belonging to The Grinch (Stefan Karl), introduces the Whos of Whoville and their traditions, as well as the Grinch’s desire to put an end to their good cheer. In addition to Albert Hague’s widely known “Welcome, Christmas” and “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch,” a number of new songs cleverly incorporate traditional Christmas jingles but fails to achieve the iconic status of the aforementioned numbers (though “Santa For a Day,” featuring cute-as-a-button Kayley Stallings as Cindy-Lou Who, is sweet). What distinguishes this compact production (90 minutes without intermission) are John Lee Beatty’s set pieces, which incorporate Seuss’ original line drawings; Robert Morgan’s costumes, including the pastel mint hues of the Whos, and the bilious green coat sported by the Grinch; Thomas Augustine’s hair and wigs, featuring mounds of colorful curls and swirls; Angelina Avallone’s wonderfully detailed makeup; and Gregory Meeh’s clever special effects, like the flying sleigh and ubiquitous snowflakes. Director Matt August deftly manages hundreds of moving parts and gets an appropriately over-the-top performance from Karl, whose Grinch surpasses that of Jim Carrey’s. Headliner Larroquette has a surprisingly smooth hot-cocoa baritone, but his deadpan delivery is a bit too reminiscent of Dan Fielding. Like any face-lift, this one retains some wrinkles but makes for good family fare. Pantages Theatre, 6233 Hollywood Blvd., L.A.; Wed.-Thurs., 7:30 p.m.; Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 2, 5 & 8 p.m.; Sun., 11 a.m., 2 & 5 p.m.; through January 3. (800) 982-2787 or ticketmaster.com/artist/1062083. A Nederlander and Running Subway Production. (Mayank Keshaviah)

Tim Sullens

Molly

Ed Krieger

How The Grinch Stole Christmas — The Musical

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GO A LIE OF THE MIND As an inaugural staging, Studio Five Productions’ revival of Sam Shepard’s 1985 complex, fractured-memory fable proves an auspicious and appropriate debut. Director John Langs’ vibrant production is not only handsomely mounted and caustically funny, but, for a play about self-deception and misremembering, it goes a long way toward finally wiping away the memory of the Taper’s 1988 austere, Robert Woodruff–helmed L.A. premiere. Believing he’s killed his wife, Beth (Natalie Avital), in a jealous rage, Jake (Lance Kramer) flees to his Southern California boyhood home to hide out with his overly doting, widowed mother, Lorraine (Casey Kramer), and black-sheep sister, Sally (Maury Morgan). Unbeknownst to Jake, Beth has survived the assault and been whisked away by her overprotective brother, Mike (P.J. Marshall), to the rural Montana home of their bombastic father, Baylor (John Combs) and ditsy mother, Meg (Jennifer Toffel). While Jake and Beth recover from their respective traumas — his a self-lacerating guilt that has transformed him into a cowering wreck; hers a severe concussion that has left her physically and mentally impaired — the story’s one truth seeker, Jake’s brother Frankie (Logan Fahey), is himself crippled when the befuddled Baylor literally shoots the messenger. While myriad hidden truths will eventually come out, it’s not before Shepard lays bare the self-deluding, foundational myths of each family in blistering parodies of Greek tragedy and frontier lore. Along the way, Langs and his flawless ensemble nimbly navigate the difficult transition between brutal domestic violence and sly, screwball farce, aided by Dwayne Burgess’ elegantly expressionistic set, Travis McHale’s atmospheric lights and the dramatic punch of Tim Labor’s sound. Studio/Stage, 520 N. Western Ave., L.A.; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; through December 20. (888) 534-6001 or studiofiveproductions.org. Studio Five Productions. (Bill Raden)

MERCY WARREN’S TEA The first American woman playwright, Mercy Otis Warren (1728-1815), is such an intrinsically fascinating historical figure, it’s almost astonishing that she isn’t far better known in the theatrical pantheon. Almost immediately upon learning about this early “Republican mother,” we only wish we could see her satire, The Adulateur, in which she apparently skewered the corrupt British governor in pre–Revolutionary War Massachusetts. However, instead of such intriguing material, we get playwright Jovanka Bach’s plodding historical treatment. In 1783, playwright-historian Mercy (Donna Luisa Guinan) holds a tea party for her pal Abigail Adams (a nicely starchy Mona Lee Wylde), whose husband, John Adams, is one of Mercy’s major intellectual mentors. Mercy is plotting to write the definitive history of the Revolution — and, for research, she has invited none other than Mrs. Benedict Arnold (Susan Ziegler), to join them, so she can tell her side of the story of her husband’s betrayal of the American cause. Mrs. Adams and Mrs. Arnold argue bitterly — which, one suspects, was pretty much what the observational journalist Mercy was hoping for when she brought the pair together. The basic situation of these Daughters of the American Revolution meeting in one room is clever — but Bach’s drama is not, with its stilted, overly researched dialogue, which often feels as though it has been ripped whole cloth from some history text. Worse, the script lets go of Mercy’s story midway through to focus on the much less compelling interactions between Adams and Arnold. Director John Stark’s straightforward staging is functional, underscoring the pedantic tone. Ziegler’s sultry, twisted Mrs. Arnold is engagingly multidimensional, considering the script’s fustiness — and so is Wylde’s tightly controlled Mrs. Adams. Odyssey Theatre, 2055 S. Sepulveda Blvd., West L.A.; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; through December 20. (310) 477-2055. (Paul Birchall)