Steven Leigh MorrisNEW REVIEW GO BEDROOM FARCE
Photo by Ron Sossi
The title is apt, since the action occurs in three radically
different bedrooms in a 1975 English suburb. Kate (blond and
taffy-voiced Kate Hollinshead) and Malcolm (buff and playful Jamie
Donovan) are having a party in their new flat. Nick (Scott Roberts) and
Jan (Ann Noble) are invited, but Nick has put his back out and is
confined to his bed in agony — and he's annoyed that Jan is going to
the party without him. Obstreperous and self-obsessed Trevor (Anthony
Michael Jones) and his noisily neurotic wife, Susannah (Regina Peluso),
are also invited, but their tempestuous marriage is rocked by one of
its endless crises. When Trevor makes a pass at former girlfriend Jan,
Susannah goes into massive hysterics, wrecking the party. Trevor
descends on bedridden Nick to “explain” his behavior, while Susannah
runs to Trevor's bemused parents, Ernest (Robert Mandan) and Delia
(Maggie Peach), for solace. Alan Ayckbourn's play plumbs no great
depths, but he's unflaggingly inventive in exploring comic surfaces,
and director Ron Bottitta has assembled a likable and deftly stylish
cast to keep the pot boiling on Darcy Prevost's huge and handsome set.
Kathryn Poppen's trendy '70s costumes add further charm. Odyssey
Theatre Ensemble, 2055 S. Sepulveda Blvd., W.L.A.; variable schedule,
through September 26. Call theater for info: (310) 477-2055,
odysseytheatre.com. (Neal Weaver)
For all NEW THEATER REVIEWS seen over the weekend, press the More tab directly below:
NEW THEATER REVIEWS Scheduled for publication July 28, 2010
NEW REVIEW THE BAKER'S OVEN
Photo by Adam Neubauer
The softly Southern lilt of the imploring, impassioned pastor's
voice sermonizing on patriotism playing as preshow background music is
the red flag. Well, that, juxtaposed with the jarring opening scene, in
which a dark electro-rave song slaps the audience while a little girl
spanks her knockoff Barbie doll until its legs fly off. Anachronistic,
that toy, considering the play's setting is the Great Depression, and
Mattel didn't launch Barbie dolls until the late '50s. But in light of
the lurid action that follows, that's a negligible quibble. As
playwright Christopher Goodwin unleashes one monstrous act of human
nature after yet another, you almost laugh at the utter absurdity of
the plot and its evil mastermind, the charred-and-shriveled-hearted Roy
Baker (Jim Eshom); and you begin to wonder if Goodwin's a 21-year-old
theater major who (mis)read Bret Easton Ellis' American Psycho
too many times before writing and mounting his first play in the
college's “experimental” theatre. He's not. And though theater majors
might congregate at a coffee shop afterward to discuss the symbolism of
such unnecessary blanket violence (the U.S.'s history of military
invasions seems a likely and politically correct response) and sexual
abuse (organized religion, ditto), searching for meaning in this
quasi-Greek tragedy of a play is as fruitless and confusing as its
ludicrous final scene. Lila Green directs. Zombie Joe's Underground
Theatre Group, 4850 Lankershim Blvd., N. Hlywd.; Fri.-Sat., 8:30 p.m.;
through August 7. (818) 202-4120 (Rebecca Haithcoat)
NEW REVIEW GO BEDROOM FARCE
Photo by Ron Sossi
The title is apt, since the action occurs in three radically
different bedrooms in a 1975 English suburb. Kate (blond and
taffy-voiced Kate Hollinshead) and Malcolm (buff and playful Jamie
Donovan) are having a party in their new flat. Nick (Scott Roberts) and
Jan (Ann Noble) are invited, but Nick has put his back out and is
confined to his bed in agony — and he's annoyed that Jan is going to
the party without him. Obstreperous and self-obsessed Trevor (Anthony
Michael Jones) and his noisily neurotic wife, Susannah (Regina Peluso),
are also invited, but their tempestuous marriage is rocked by one of
its endless crises. When Trevor makes a pass at former girlfriend Jan,
Susannah goes into massive hysterics, wrecking the party. Trevor
descends on bedridden Nick to “explain” his behavior, while Susannah
runs to Trevor's bemused parents, Ernest (Robert Mandan) and Delia
(Maggie Peach), for solace. Alan Ayckbourn's play plumbs no great
depths, but he's unflaggingly inventive in exploring comic surfaces,
and director Ron Bottitta has assembled a likable and deftly stylish
cast to keep the pot boiling on Darcy Prevost's huge and handsome set.
Kathryn Poppen's trendy '70s costumes add further charm. Odyssey
Theatre Ensemble, 2055 S. Sepulveda Blvd., W.L.A.; variable schedule,
through September 26. Call theater for info: (310) 477-2055,
odysseytheatre.com. (Neal Weaver)
NEW REVIEW GO BREWSIE & WILLIE
Photo by Scott Groller
If the name Gertrude Stein isn't enough of a clue to not expect your
average, well-made play, just walk into the seventh floor,
downtown-penthouse performance space of this mesmerizing production by
CalArts' Center for New Performance and L.A. stage experimentalists,
Poor Dog Group. That's where Jesse Bonnell, John Kern and Jeffrey Elias
Teeter's video projections of the surrounding cityscape create the
uncanny effect that Efren Delgadillo Jr.'s combat-detritus set is
perched high upon a vertiginous, open-air promontory. Such lofty, if
illusory, heights provide an apt metaphor for the elevated discourse of
Stein's lucidly conversational, postwar novella and its
all-too-prophetic admonition against the political and intellectual
conformity awaiting America's returning WWII GIs. Set during the limbo
period between the end of the war and demobilization, director Travis
Preston and writers Marissa Chibas and Erik Ehn's elegant adaptation
follows the fears, gripes, prejudices and dreams of Stein's archetypal
cross section of soldiers and military nurses as they pass the time
fraternizing and musing about their uncertain futures. Brewsie (Jonney
Ahmanson), a thoughtful sergeant “foggy in the head” but who wants “to
be clear,” provokes a probing dialogue with his fellow dogface, the
voluble Willie (a dynamic Brad Culver), which soon includes their less
reflective comrades. As the inarticulate men and women struggle to find
words for their thoughts, Stein's apprehensions about parallels between
the regimented thinking demanded by the Nazi's military-industrialism
and those invited by our own consumer-industrial society are gradually
given voice. Preston's vibrantly inventive direction of a first-rate
ensemble, plus some additional, authentic ambience provided by circling
LAPD helicopters, together suggest that any similarity between Stein's
fears and the straits in which we find ourselves today is strictly
intentional. 7th Floor Penthouse, 533 S. Los Angeles St., dwntwn.;
Wed.-Sun., 8 p.m.; through Aug. 1, brownpapertickets.com. A CalArts'
Center for New Performance in association with Poor Dog Group
production. (Bill Raden)
NEW REVIEW GO JAYBIRD AND HALLELUJAH Writer-director Pel Tedder's comedy-drama promises to change the way
you think about life, death and the afterlife. Perhaps it will. A bit
like an upbeat No Exit on wheels, Tedder's stories concern a
handful of unhappy souls riding a bus through purgatory on New Year's
Eve. They need to make it to the intersection of Jaybird and Hallelujah
in order to cross over to Heaven, but unseen rioters threaten to lock
them in limbo. As personal tales are revealed, we are drawn into their
torment and recriminations. The flaring temper of an aggressive and
sexually charged jock-type Willie (Eric Goldrich) is kept at bay by his
adoring girlfriend, Adriana (Sarah Delpizzo), reminding him of the
power of positive thinking. We soon learn why he's there, but her
presence in purgatory is more mysterious. One smooth-talking character,
Swamp Rat (Greg L. Grass) has the colorful and musical vocal delivery
of a preacher. There are some beautiful and touching moments in this
fine play. Flashes of comedy are underpinned by its serious theme.
Don't expect sets or costumes — this production runs on the smell of an
oily rag, sustained by the power of Tedder's nicely modulated writing
and some convincing performances. Most nights The Ukomo Theatre Project
presents the same play with two different casts, interpretations and
strikingly different endings. It's an ambitious attempt and worth the
effort. Subtitled “The Redemption” and “The Salvation,” the versions
perform in repertory. NoHo Actors Studios, 5215 Lankershim Blvd.,
N.Hlywd.; Sat., 9:15 p.m.; through Aug. 7, ukomoproject@live.com. (818)
761-2166. Ukomo Theatre Project(Pauline Adamek)
NEW REVIEW LADY LANCING, OR, THE IMORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST
Photo courtesy of Ark Theater Company
The Ark Theater Company's fetching idea of staging Oscar Wilde's
farce has, at its core, the original, unrevised script and four-act
format. The addition of a minor character and some name changes do
little to alter the story or to temper the fun. It's the rough edges of
this production that keep that fun at bay. The play is, after all, a
gentle comedy with farcical overtones. Here, the tone and pace turn
those gentle qualities into a kind of sedative, under the ultralight
touch of co-directors Douglas Leal and Derek Livingston.
Notwithstanding some glaring instances of flubbed lines (a contagion
that spread throughout the cast with the consequence of seeming to dull
Wilde's otherwise pointed wit), Kenn Johnson and Leal acquit themselves
well in the roles of Jack and Algernon, the two puffed-up dandies whose
name-swapping high jinks and romantic foibles lie at the play's heart.
JoAnna Jocelyn infuses the requisite imperious dignity and stuffiness
to her role of Lady Brancaster, while Anna Quirino and Caroline Sharp
are quite good as Jack and Algernon's love interests, despite Sharp's
wobbly British accent. Osa Danam's costumes are beautifully
understated, and Christina Silvioso's painted backdrops add a visual
comic touch. Ark Theater Company at The Attic Theatre and Film Center,
5429 W. Washington Blvd., L.A.; Fri.-Sat. 8 p.m.; Sun. 2 p.m., through
August 15. (323) 969-1707. (Lovell Estell III)
NEW REVIEW NOT ABOUT HEROES
Playwright Stephen MacDonald's 1982 drama about the World War I
friendship between British poets Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen is
an Anglophile's orgy of poetry and irony. The stage simmers with
repressed sexuality and doomed talent — chilled with that stiff upper
lippiness that has boys quoting poetry as they march off to get
slaughtered in the Somme. In 1917, at the Scottish mental hospital
where they have both been committed for shell shock, wide-eyed novice
poet Owen (Robert Hardin) nervously approaches his idol, celebrated war
bard Sassoon (Josh Mann), to ask for his autograph and to get his
opinion of his own verses about the horrors of WWI. The two men kindle
a warm mentor-prodigy relationship that stops an inch short of a
lip-lock — and, even though they never declare their obvious romantic
love, Sassoon is left bereft after Owen returns to his unit and dies
pointlessly in the trenches. MacDonald's drama is incredibly
well-researched — some might say overresearched, as the piece strives
to shoehorn into the text almost every single fact about its subjects'
lives. Yet, director Bill Hemmer's elegant if unevenly paced production
limns the shifting power dynamic between the two poets, as well as
offers a compelling portrait of a war that literally crushed a whole
generation of young men into the mud. Hardin's delightfully boyish Owen
matures and become ravaged by the conflict, before our eyes — while
Mann's subtly arch turn as Sassoon belies the affection for his prodigy
lurking below the surface of his snarky ironic exterior. Although the
play is ultimately perilously overwritten and a bit static, the
production itself recalls the mood and tone of those fringe British
dramas that are frequently staged in the backrooms of London pubs, in
which nothing ever seems more crucial than art and beauty. Lounge
Theatre, 6201 Santa Monica Blvd., Hlywd.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7
p.m.; through August 22. (323) 960-7744. (Paul Birchall)
NEW REVIEW SPEECH AND DEBATE Stephen
Karam's hit 2007 off-Broadway play riffs on the presumed nerdiness of
high-schoolers who opt for forensics over sports. In this case, three
outcasts are also determined to triple their misfit status via drama,
the school newspaper and a “gay-straight-alliance.” The journey through
youthful angst begins as gay Howie (Matt Strunin) trolls online for sex
only to discover, to his major gross-out, that he's sexting with the
theater teacher. Meanwhile, ambitious but untalented would-be
coloratura Diwata (Tiffany Jordan) captures Howie's attention with her
“blogalog” about the same teacher's unjust casting policies. Also
pulled into the electronic circle is aspiring reporter Solomon (Simon
Daniel Lees), who is obsessed with sexual predators. Through a series
of scenes, subtitled with Speech and Debate rules, the three find a
mutual attraction bordering on friendship, which ultimately allows them
to find solace in their eccentricities. Finally they collaborate on a
bizarre musical performance-art piece mixing aspects from the plays of
Arthur Miller and Wicked among several mismatched ingredients, which is
fascinating in its pure awfulness. Though not quite convincing in terms
of youth, the acting of the students is superb, compassionately
exploring the constant pain and few joys the characters experience.
Unfortunately the same is not true of Nina Donato in a pair of adult
roles that fly into caricature — a choice seemingly pushed by director
Jon Cortez to get some laughs, which prove to be at the expense of the
production. Cortez also keeps the pace so sluggish through clumsy scene
breaks, they interfere with the crispness of his young stars. Mike
Rademaekers' clever set easily transforms between schoolroom and
bedrooms, which provide the unfollowed cues for agile scene
transitions. Secret Rose Theater, 11246 Magnolia Blvd., North
Hollywood; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7 p.m.; through Aug. 22. (877)
620-7673. (Tom Provenzano)
[TITLE OF SHOW] “Musical about making a musical.” Music and lyrics by Jeff Bowen, book by Hunter Bell. Celebration Theatre, 7051-B Santa Monica Blvd., L.A.; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.; thru Sept. 5. (323) 957-1884. See Theater feature
NEW REVIEW THREE SISTERS AFTER CHEKHOV
Photo by Thomas Sanders
Adapted from Chekhov's classic, Trinidadian playwright Mustapha
Matura's multi-storied melodrama tracks the wavering fortunes of three
sisters living in 1941 colonial Port of Spain. The action — colorfully
inlaid with Caribbean culture and language — transpires in their
multihued, middle-class apartment overlooking the city's main drag.
Alma (understudy Elayn Taylor), a spinster in her 40s, serves as the
family's matriarch, while 30-something Helen (Yvonne Huff), trapped in
an unhappy marriage, has fallen hard for a gallant British officer
(Douglas Dickerman). The youngest, Audrey (a lively and appealing
Diarra Kilpatrick), cherishes buoyant dreams — soon to be shattered by
the shadow of war in Europe and local unrest among the island's poor,
arising from water shortages, skyrocketing prices and government
corruption. Meanwhile, trouble ferments within the family when the
sisters' doted-upon brother Peter (Terence Colby Clemens) becomes
enamored of a sexy manipulative social climber named Jean (Nadege
August). The play gathers speed as romantic entanglements intensify and
the motifs of war, manhood, personal integrity and freedom from
colonial rule shift to the fore. Director Gregg T. Daniel displays a
deft hand, but the performances are something of a patchwork, with
certain characters far more vividly drawn than others. In addition to
Kilpatrick's endearing Audrey, the evening I attended featured
understudy Jeorge Watson, injecting a welcome dynamic as Helen's
implicitly unscrupulous and predatory spouse. Designer Shaun Motley's
shabby chic interior works well, but the set's hand-painted blue
backdrop lacks the very dimensionality it's supposed to suggest. Lost
Studio, 130 S. La Brea Ave., L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 4 p.m.;
through Aug. 8, lowerdepththeatreensemble.org. (800) 838-3006. A Lower
Depth Theatre Ensemble production. (Deborah Klugman)
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