Theater Reviews: Chico's Angels: Chicas in Chains, Hello, Merrily We Roll Along

Also, Valentino Valentina, Sultan's Battery and more

Comments (0) By L.A. Weekly Theater Critics Thursday, Oct 7 2010

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SKELETON STORIES Delondra Williams' spooky play draws from the rich mythology that surrounds the Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead). A young girl on the brink of puberty (played to bratty perfection by Nina Harada) descends into the underworld searching for her deceased mother, Corazon (Lorianne Hill). Guided by various spirits, such as a sinister yellow dog with a skeletal head (Rick Steadman), the sassy and intrepid Maya encounters an assortment of gods and spirits, as well as the insatiable dead, who relate their stories. Masks, puppets, tricksy props, video effects, plus Mark McClain Wilson's particularly chilling and atmospheric sound design, fill in the gaps left by Williams' occasionally incoherent plot. Is Maya praying to Santa Muerte to liberate her mom, or are her incantations inciting more excruciating torment at the hands of a cheerfully malevolent devil named Jeffy (Keith Allan)? When mother and daughter unite, their simple and beautiful pas de deux, choreographed by Nancy Dobbs Owen, suffuses the reunion with tenderness. Flashes of humor in the dialogue blend well with the play's more ominous and violent sequences. Maya's journey is perilous, but the stories she hears prepare her for the transformation she is facing. Theatre of NOTE. 1517 N. Cahuenga Blvd., Hollywood; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7 p.m.; (added perfs Thurs, 10/28, 8 p.m.; & Sun, 10/31, 2 p.m.); thru Nov. 6. (323) 856-8611. theatreofnote.com (Pauline Adamek)

SULTAN'S BATTERY "What if God was one of us?" singer Joan Osborne asked, and playwright Kathy Rucker answers in this world premiere. Ray (Liam Toner) is a high-strung American tourist (he does jumping jacks to calm his anxiety) made more so by his mission, toting his father's prized statue of the Virgin Mary to a pageant in India. Meanwhile, the gods are debating their relevance, and thus begins a commingling of the mystical and the mortal. Some befitting production and thoughtful observations are appreciated: The stage is sparsely populated at all times, ironic considering the sardine-crammed country India is; the dialogue is spiked with remarks that cleverly turn conventional religious commentary on its head, such as a god who "no longer believes in the believer." And the sharp contrast between cultural philosophies is as consistent as the train clock that looms over the set is inconsistent — Mira (Geeta Malik) launches into a lengthy explanation of when the train will arrive, finally giving a precise time, and an exasperated Ray huffs, "Why didn't you just SAY that?!" Yet this poignancy ends up getting swallowed by a script that's far too roomy, and actors whose response times are far too protracted. By the time Rucker's message meanders in, the leisurely pace of India has so lulled the audience, it barely realizes the play is over. Co-directed by Cody Goulder and Marisa Rojas. Fresh Baked Theatre Company, Whitmore-Lindley Theater, 11006 Magnolia Blvd., North Hollywood; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.; thru Oct. 17. brownpapertickets.com (Rebecca Haithcoat)

PHOTO BY MIKE PINGEL

Chico's Angels

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THEY'RE PLAYING OUR SONG Director Lonny Price's dynamic production of Marvin Hamlisch, Neil Simon, and Carole Bayer Sager's musical about love and artistic collaboration opens with a haunting montage of mostly forgotten images from the 1970s — beautiful young Cher in an Indian headdress, still hunky John Travolta doing the disco dance, and the shark from Jaws. It's a sequence that cunningly fixes the show's steeped-in-amber status as a disco-era period-piece. To its credit, Price's evocation of attitudes and music of the time give the production a strangely melancholic, nostalgic air that has nothing to do with the characters, the narrative, or even the music. The musical is a highly fictionalized account of the romance and productive professional partnership of Hamlisch and lyricist Sager, as amped up with Simon's banter and one-liners. In the role of the composer Vernon, Jason Alexander is totally winning — admittedly, much of his performance is in full on neurotic bluster-mode of The Producers, but his comic timing is impeccable. As Vernon's muse and love, Sonia, Stephanie J. Block's character may seem a little too limned from an early draft of Annie Hall, but her voice is amazing and when she sings the showstopper "If You Remember Me," in which the heartfelt emotion of the performance is greater than the parameters of the song itself. Yet, notwithstanding the skillful cast, the plain truth is, They're Playing Our Song is an awful musical. The songs are mostly horrid — like listening to the theme from The Love Boat 11 times in a row — while the book is annoyingly top heavy with reflexive, twitchy one liners and laborious, EST-y therapy speak. Price's decision to stage it as an historical artifact makes sense, but this great production of a dullard piece ultimately leaves one feeling somehow saddened. John Iacovelli's record album turntable set is charming, while Kate Bergh's goofy costumes (particularly for Block) sets the piece nicely in its era. Freud Theatre, UCLA's McGowan Hall, Westwood; Tues.-Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 2 & 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 & 7 p.m.; thru Oct. 10. (310) 825-2101. A Reprise Theatre Company production (Paul Birchall)

VALENTINO VALENTINA It takes audacity to present a page one "script polish" of Shakespeare's classic "Twelfth Night," but that is precisely what playwright Carlo Allen does in a modern language adaptation of the Bard's comedy of mistaken identity and gender confusion. Allen further attempts to update the play by setting it amongst Los Angeles's illegal immigrant community. Sister Valentina (Iris Gilad) and brother Valentino (Michael Onofri) are separated during a car crash while trying to cross the border, and each assumes the other is dead. Valentina takes on her brother's identity and goes to work for hunky construction executive Ernesto (Neto de Paulo Pimenta), who sends her to woo gorgeous Cleaning Lady Company Impresario (no, I am not making that up) Olivia (Stephanie Sanchez). Olivia falls for the boy-girl in drag. Meanwhile, Olivia's boozy Uncle Gordo (Leo Weltman) and his buddies play a hideous prank on Olivia's sexually repressed major domo Rodrigue (Spike Mayer). Sadly, in director Odalys Nanin's lackluster production, the results of these attempts to modernize the classic are uneven at best, with the goings on executed with disappointingly plodding pacing and an oddly unfocused sense of comic timing. The show ultimately possesses the heaviness and stiff execution of a journeyman Shakespeare production, but little of the beauty of the poetry, which, obviously, has been jettisoned to make way for Allen's mostly wooden dialogue. The performances range widely, with the standouts being Weltman's deliciously broad and gleefully gluttonous Gordo and Gilad's droll turn as a hyper-macho drag-king. Some of the other awkwardly inexperienced performers, though, are unable to bring much vigor or humor to the tepidly involving dialogue or situations. This is a show that needs to go big and go fast to make its impact — but much of the show is stodgy and oddly glum, while also being clumsily conceptualized, making it a disappointment in almost all dimensions. Macha Theatre, 1107 N. Kings Road, West Hollywood. Fridays and Saturdays at 8, Sundays at 7, through October 17. (323) 960-7712. (Paul Birchall)