Theater Reviews: All My Sons, Opus, King Lear: The Madmen

Also, Praying Small, The Fantasticks, Amadeus and more

Comments (0) By L.A. Weekly Theater Critics Thursday, Jul 1 2010

GO ALL MY SONS If even a thread of a silver lining can be found in the BP gulf oil-spill madness, it might just be that the appalling incident has breathed new life into Arthur Miller's powerful tragedy about the twin evils of reckless capitalism and false sanctimony. Director Kiff Scholl's powerful and well-acted production never overtly channels the spill — but the parallels between the cabal of greedy oil-company CEOs and the dark heart of corruption that lie at the center of the family in Miller's play are apparent. The play concerns seemingly genial war-parts manufacturer Joe (Mark Belnick), whose family life is splintering ostensibly over the fact that his beloved but emotionally fragile wife, Kate (CaroleAnne Johnson), is unwilling to give up believing that their son Larry, dead in a war plane crash, is still alive. Meanwhile Joe's other son Chris (Nicholas S. Williams) is plotting to marry beautiful Annie (Lauren Dobbins Webb), the daughter of Joe's former partner, who's serving a prison term for sending faulty plane parts to the front. Of course, the real truth of how those faulty parts got to the front is far more horrible — and ultimately tragic to all concerned. Staged in a theater so small it often seems to creak at the seams of the play's aching themes of rage, disgust and greed, Scholl's sturdy production is unflinching, with the intimacy only adding to its beauty. The ensemble's vivid and psychologically nuanced characters lead to the feeling that we "know" we "know" these people, like friends — from Belnick's backslappin', bonhomie bloat-spouting Joe, whose "big man" attitude is quickly abraded into weasel-eyed oiliness, to Johnson's beautifully fragile but increasingly darkly complicit Kate. Webb's sweet, then fierce turn as Annie becomes surprisingly complex as she ultimately wields a weapon that puts the final nail in the villain's coffin — while Williams' shift from dorky rich-boy idealist to ferocious avatar of justice is strikingly powerful. Raven Playhouse, 5223 Lankershim Blvd., N. Hlywd.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7 p.m.; through July 25. (323) 960-4420. (Paul Birchall)

PHOTO BY CHELSEA SUTTON

CHiPS the Musical

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AMADEUS Written as Theophilus (from the Greek) on his birth certificate, Mozart's middle name can be interpreted as either "lover of God" or "loved by God." Antonio Salieri clearly believed the latter, and his jealousy of Mozart fuels the drama in Peter Shaffer's 1979 award-winning play. As court composer, Salieri (Peter Swander) has the favor of Emperor Joseph II (David Robert May) and admires Mozart's music — until he meets the young prodigy. Mozart's (Patrick Stafford) sexuality and vulgarity drive the devout Catholic wild, and as Salieri can't reconcile the philistine with the ethereal music he creates, he becomes determined to destroy Mozart. In that quest, Swander often speaks of passion, yet it rarely feels as if his character possesses the passion his words suggest. Part of this may have been director August Viverito's desire for a slow build, even though it does eventually pay off in Act 2. Stafford's Mozart, on the contrary, is id perfectly personified, with occasional glimpses of the genius hiding behind the schoolboy pranks. Danielle Doyen, who plays his wife, Constanze, pairs well with Stafford, and like the rest of the cast, is capable. However, her 1980s, Madonna-style outfits, along with Mozart's gold pants and the emperor's raspberry zoot suit, are questionable choices by designer Shon LeBlanc. While for Salieri "a note of music is either right or it's wrong," for me the show had a pleasant melody but not one that stuck with me for long. The Production Company at the Chandler Studio Theatre Center, 12443 Chandler Blvd., N. Hlywd.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.; through July 31. (800) 838-3006, theprodco.com (Mayank Keshaviah)

CHiPS THE MUSICAL Those masters of the mashed-up musical parody, the Troubadour Theater, have always played by their own comedic rules. Rule No. 1, invoked repeatedly in this uneven send-up of NBC's kitschy, late-'70s police drama, is to follow the laughs wherever they lead. And if that means repeatedly tossing out the script when it isn't hitting on all cylinders — as is the case with writers Rick Batalla and Henry Phillips' roughly tuned lampoon — and substituting it with the Troubies' trademark repertoire of quick-draw ad libs, self-mocking asides, audience-harassing gibes and an escalating onstage hugger-muggery, so be it. Batalla and director Matt Walker fill the famously skintight CHP uniforms (courtesy of costumer Sharon McGunigle) of swaggering freeway heroes Ponch and John as they ride down a marauding gang of lesbian ecoterrorists led by "synthetic albino" KG (Beth Kennedy). Meanwhile, the new political realities are shaking up the station, as sexist supervising sergeant "Getrear" (Mike Sulprizio) is sent off for sensitivity training and replaced with the sexy, Pam Grier–like ballbuster, Carmel (Michelle Anne Johnson). The 14 loony production numbers (under Eric Heinly's musical direction), neatly skewer the original series' generic, funk-flavored, adult-contemporary score along with its absurdly insipid storylines — talk about shooting fish in a barrel! — and even produce the occasional gem, like Caroline Gross' hilarious, must-be-seen, aerial-birthing flashback dance. Troubadour Theater Company at the Falcon Theatre, 4252 Riverside Drive, Burbank; Thurs.-Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 4 & 8 p.m.; Sun., 4 p.m.; through July 25. 818-955-8101. (Bill Raden)