Steven Leigh MorrisI LAUGHED SO HARD I CRIED 
Mark White, “The Goth Comedian”
To maximize coverage of the Hollywood Fringe, Back Stage and the L.A. Weekly have joined forces this week, with a pact to avoid both papers covering the same shows. This week, the papers have combined efforts to review 44 performances. Thanks to Back Stage Executive Editor, Dany Margolies for her efforts on behalf of our theater. For schedule information, please contact hollywoodfringe.org — SLM
For all NEW REVIEWS seen over the weekend, press the More tab directly below.
NEW THEATER REVIEWS scheduled for publication in either the L.A. Weekly or Back Stage, on June 24, 2010
NEW REVIEW GO BACK TO BABYLON In this self-crafted
solo show, Gregg Tomé starts and ends as a man who refuses to attend
his 10-year high school reunion but then spends his increasingly
inebriated evening recalling many of his friends. The framing device
might not involve us enough, nor does the actor's continual
disappearance backstage to briefly prepare each character (Tomé is
self-directed). But his characters are spectacular and inspire awe each
time a new one appears onstage. Tomé skillfully uses costuming and
physicality, but his face, particularly his remarkably malleable mouth,
memorably sells each new persona, in these cautionary but never preachy
tales. Theatre of NOTE, 1517 N. Cahuenga Blvd., Hlywd.; Wed., June 23,
8:15 p.m.; Fri., June 25, 6 p.m.; Sat., June 26, 11:45 a.m. (866)
811-4111. (Dany Margolies/courtesy of Back Stage)
NEW REVIEW
BACK TO YOU, A DEAR JOHN (MAYER) LETTER Writer, director and featured
performer Brianne Hogan takes aim at the cult of celebrity in this
callow comedy that reimagines the private life of musician and tabloid
personality John Mayer. Fed up with messing around, the fictive Mayer
(Martin Lindquist) seeks his first love, Rihanna (Hogan), hoping to
start afresh. The lady's not interested, but two of her star-smitten
friends (Carla Lopez and Rodrigo Fernandez-Stoll) try to exploit the
connection to further their own careers. Comeuppance tales can be
satisfying and fun, but this effort needs extensive revamping:
restructuring the repetitious script, fleshing out the clichéd
characters and importing strong, outside direction to punch the
performances into shape. Comedy Sportz, 733 Seward St., Hlywd. CLOSED
(Deborah Klugman/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW GO THE BAD ARM: CONFESSIONS OF A DODGY IRISH DANCER Trained as an Irish
dancer, Máire Clerkin is also a gifted writer-actor, whose tales
(directed by Dan O'Connor) of growing up the imperfect daughter of a
perfectionist dance teacher touch the underappreciated in all of us.
That wayward bent elbow kept young Máire from winning dance
competitions, but as she grew up she put the arm to use swilling beer
and sucking cigarettes. All's well at the show's end, as Clerkin shows
off her dance chops during her fast-forward recap of those tales,
while we realize the fleeting nature of all our pain and all our
triumph. Theatre Asylum, 6320 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood; Fri., June
25, 5:30 p.m.; Sun., June 27, 2:30 and 7 p.m. (866) 811-4111.
www.maireclerkin.com. (Dany Margolies/courtesy of Back Stage)
NEW REVIEW BETTY Having spent a summer in my teens touring with Betty Hutton in
Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, I might be a harder critic to win over than
most, yet writer Shelby Bond's crafty concept did the trick, with
Hutton (Kellydawn Malloy) discussing her life and mercurial career with
the audience as a press corps. Equipped with subjects to broach, each
answer concluding with a song by the troubled star Bob Hope dubbed a
“vitamin pill with legs,” Malloy has perfected Hutton's signature
squinty smile, although the alternate wide-eyed look of feigned
surprise needs practice — right after she loses the cheat sheet taped
to the dressing-room tabletop — if the show continues to be explored.
Lone Star Laurels at Theatre Asylum, 6320 Santa Monica Blvd., Hlywd.;
Sat., June 19, 1 p.m.; Sun., June 20, 5:30 p.m.; Mon.-Tue., June 21-22,
7 p.m.; Sun., June 27, 4 p.m. (866) 811-4111. (Travis Michael
Holder/courtesy of Back Stage)
NEW REVIEW
BONNIE IN BRIGHTON There isn't a program to explain if the series of
parental-nightmare escapades experienced by a recent college graduate
from Texas, hiding behind her alter ego “Bonnie” while living a crazed
year's existence on the British seaside, are based on Erin Parks'
real-life adventures–and the script credited to Guy Picot helps keep
the authenticity of the piece a mystery. Either way, the staging here
is continuously clever, and Parks is an infectious performer who
successfully drags us along into her adopted world of drug-smuggling
and fleeting romances, making us lose our inhibitions and innocence
right along with her. Wasif Productions at Theatre Asylum, 6320 Santa
Monica Blvd., Hollywood; Mon., June 21, 8:30 p.m. (866) 811-4111.
(Travis Michael Holder/courtesy of Back Stage)
NEW REVIEW GO THE BRITISH INVASION features a series of stand-up comedians from
Britain at IDA on Hollywood Boulevard. I caught the duo of Simon
Feilder and Sy Thomas in their act, Life of Si, like a British
reincarnation of the Smothers Brothers — amiable, eccentric,
self-deprecating and squabbling like children over issues of profound
import, such as what lines were actually said in James Bond flicks, and
whether there's time to get the entire audience a cup of tea. It's an
act of delightfully nutty repartee, and is gently mocking of stand-up
comedy conventions. One plays a heckler with strategically witless
insults. I particularly liked an opening video sequence in which the
duo tried to pass off what was obviously London for L.A. — “city of
angles.” Standing in front of the Houses of Parliament, they thrilled
at finally being at L.A.'s “city hall,” and showing a McDonald's logo
upside down, they veritably gloated at relaxing at the “W” hotel, “here
on Hollywood Boulevard!” IDA Hollywood, 6755 Hollywood Blvd.; thru June 27. hollywoodfringe.org/project/view/200. (Steven Leigh
Morris/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW GO BROWNSVILLE BRED “Written, performed and lived” by Elaine Del Valle.
With fashion-model beauty and a smile that can melt iron, Puerto Rican
Del Valle tells a mostly affectionate tale of living in and breaking
out of the Brooklyn housing projects where she grew up. She mocks her
own smile when, in trouble, she grins maniacally. She tells a generic
saga of triumph over impediments of family trauma, drug addition,
illness and would-be rapists, with her infectious charm that washes
away the shortcomings of the script. She has a squeaky voice that can
also become tinged with a growl, hinting at the ferocity mingled with
the sweetness of her portrayal. We're made up of mostly water, she
says, and the liquid looks so clean. Like us, however, it's not
necessarily as it appears.
Theatre of NOTE, 1517 N. Cahuenga Blvd., Hollywood; June 23, 6 p.m.;
June 26 2:15p.m.; June 27, noon. (323) 856-8611 (Steven Leigh
Morris/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW
GO BURTON In his 75-minute solo drama, Welsh actor Rhodri Miles
delivers a brilliant and gripping full-length portrait of fellow
Welshman, actor and movie star Richard Burton. Script-writer Gwynne
Edwards, director Hugh Thomas and Miles meld their talents in a bitter
and funny warts-and-all biography that traces Burton's life from cradle
almost to grave, with pithy accounts of his love affairs with Claire
Bloom and Susan Strasberg, his tempestuous marriages to Elizabeth
Taylor, and his love-hate relationship with acting (he preferred
playing rugby). Miles meticulously captures Burton's savage wit, his
love of language, and his guilt-ridden, self-destructive alcoholism.
Various venues. hollywoodfringe.com/project/view/26 (Neal Weaver/L.A.
Weekly)
NEW REVIEW GO BYE-BYE, BOMBAY The allegory of a raindrop seeking a puddle to land
in anchors what starts as a marionette show in Bye-Bye, Bombay, Cara
Yeates' solo show about defying her Indo-Canadian mother by visiting,
and reliving, her mom's Bollywood experiences in Bombay. Ably supported
by Cameron Avery's video design and Sylvan Sailly's animation, the saga
tells of a surreal descent into a world of incomprehensible poverty,
cruelty and transcendent mysticism. A capable performance about forging
an identity. Theatre Asylum, 6320 Santa Monica Blvd., Hlywd.; thru June
26. hollywoodfringe.org/project/view/191 (Steven Leigh Morris/L.A.
Weekly)
NEW REVIEW
CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW? The DMV waiting room provides the comic fodder
for playwright Phoebe Neidhardt's workmanlike series of character
portraits of the denizens and customers at the government office where
the author has gone to get a new license photo. The problem is that
the real wackos waiting in line at the DMV are inevitably more
interesting and engaging than these generic denizens of the government
office. Neidhardt depicts the prissy gay DMV license photographer, a
hard boiled female casting agent (with a yeast infection), a child's
nanny (who inexplicably talks like Holly Hunter), and a cheerful Latino
desk clerk. While the actress is commendably versatile, the
characterizations lack the context and dramatic heft to emerge as
anything more than the briefest of routine snapshots. Hudson Guild
Theatre, 6539 Santa Monica Blvd, Hollywood; June 26, 8 p.m.
hollywoodfringe.org/project/view/161. (Paul Birchall/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW
CHRISTMAS IN BAKERSFIELD Les Kurkendaal's solo performance tells of his
visit to his boyfriend's family in “California's armpit,” at their
Bakersfield manse. They knew their son was gay, but he'd neglected to
tell them that his lover was black. In a slightly mannered style that
stresses clarity over mystery, Kurkendaal proffers a compendium of
bigotry and homophobia, through which Kurkendaal is still able to win
them over — even terrifying “Grandma,” whose very name sparks alarming
noises over the sound system. It's a sweet tale that aims to cut to the
humanity of bigots and homophobes. Forgive them, Lord. They know not
what they do. L.A. ComedySportz Studio Theater, 733 Seward Ave.,
Hlywd.; hollywoodfringe.org/project/view/57 (Steven Leigh Morris/L.A.
Weekly)
NEW REVIEW THE DEADLY SIN BINGO SHOW Performing a show dependent on audience
participation for an audience of fewer than 10 can be disheartening.
But that's nothing compared to performing that show on the night of the
Lakers' NBA Finals Championship win while L.A. morphs into a rowdy
block party. To its credit, the cast — the holy trinity of Catholic
humor — a priest and two nuns (Jon Marco, Jenni Lamb and Lisa Merkin)
keep a snappy pace despite the honking horns and rebel yells rising
from Hollywood Boulevard. Even with Marco's funny riffs on calling
letters — “B” becomes “bordello,” “O” becomes “overeat” — this is still
just a bingo game, and without a few drinks and your most fun friends,
it feels like a promised date with your grandmother. Various locations;
visit hollywoodfringe.org/project/view/18, (312) 420-1352. (Rebecca
Haithcoat/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW
DEICIDE: A SORTA MUSICAL If you've ever yearned for a feel-good musical
about Holy Wars and the end of civilization, this is it. Sorta. Writers
Michael Ciriaco (book) and Brandon Baruch (book, music and lyrics) have
a shamelessly good time bashing the big business of God and humanity's
desperate need for deities, in whatever shape or form, as does the
appealing cast of their goofball, scrappily ambitious — albeit overlong
— musical romp. Like any good religious tale, it's filled with sex,
violence and cool costumes (Laura Wong). Baruch directs with attention
to cardboard-cutout detail (Gabriel Flores' design), and standout
performances keep us laughing, even as the premise is stretched thinner
and sillier. Murky Productions at the Paul G. Gleason Theatre, 6520
Hollywood Blvd., L.A. Tues.-Wed., June 22-23, 9 p.m.; Fri., June 25,
8:30 p.m.; Sat., June 26, 5 p.m. (866) 811-4111. (Jennie Webb/courtesy
of Back Stage)
NEW REVIEW GO DELILAH DIX AND HER BAG OF TRICKS Part stand-up and part cabaret,
this character-driven hour of outrageously maniacal chaos is the
brainchild of performer Amy Albert. Delilah, supposedly the elder
sister of the Olsen twins, is a foulmouthed, washed-up, celebrity
name-dropping, D-level Hollywood wannabe for whom nothing is
inappropriate. As her alter ego swigs Scope and rubbing alcohol, Albert
demonstrates spot-on comic timing, an obviously well-trained singing
instrument, and the ability to roll with whatever happens. Given the
wasteland of TV-sketch comedy, here's hoping her talents are discovered
by someone soon. ETC Productions LLC at the Second City Studio Theatre,
6560 Hollywood Blvd., L.A.; Mon., June 21, 7 p.m. (866) 811-4111. (Dink
O'Neal/courtesy of Back Stage)
NEW REVIEW GO ECDYSIS, A DANCE PERFORMANCE Ecdysis means to molt, or shed one's
skin. Written by Homa Dashtaki and set to music by composer and
musician Solitari, this beguiling dance piece celebrates womanhood as
it relays one individual's transition from jejune youth to weathered
maturity. The collaborative program consists of seven solo segments,
executed by seven dancers, that shift in mood and intensity, from
Aling Zhang's blithe opening to Tanya Beatty's final forceful
denouement, which embraces everything that's gone before. Dancer
Lennon Hobson's movement speaks to aspiration and Kami Rockett's to
defiant self-assertion. Most memorable is Dale Shieh, in a vivid
portrayal of erotic yearning and meteoric passion. IDA Hollywood, 6755
Hollywood Blvd. 2nd Floor, Fri., 9:30 p.m.; Sat., 8:30 p.m.
hollywoodfringe.org/project/view/222 (Deborah Klugman/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW GO ECO-FRIENDLY JIHAD Irish comedian/social satirist Abie Philbin
Bowman is supercasual, but his jokes come thick and fast. With his
rapid-fire delivery, wit and taste for paradox, he calls to mind both
Swift's Modest Proposal and Robin Williams' riffing genie in Aladdin.
He observes that while the U.S. delivers its lethal power via huge,
expensive transport planes, al-Qaeda operatives carry theirs on foot,
so obviously the jihadists create a smaller carbon footprint. Bowman's
material is so rich that occasionally one suffers psychic overload: I
sometimes missed joke no. 4 because I was still pondering nos. 1, 2 and
3. Various venues, hollywoodfringe.org/learn/content/247. (Neal
Weaver/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW
ELEVATOR One might expect seven strangers trapped in an elevator for
nine hours to begin their ordeal with an attempt at reserved civility
and end it tearing out each other's throats. Not playwright-director
Michael Leoni. In the muddled logic of his implausible claustrophobia
comedy, the close confines become a de facto confessional, as his
initially icy, urban archetypes quickly melt and begin spouting deeply
personal truths that would take the average neurotic years to work up
to in psychotherapy. Pedestrian dialogue, non sequitur psychology and a
slack staging defeat a valiant ensemble in an interminable 90 minutes;
the Marx Brothers did it much funnier in less than three. Hudson Guild,
6539 Santa Monica Blvd., Hlywd.; Fri., 10:30 p.m.; Sat.-Sun., 3 p.m.;
thru June 27. (866) 811-4111. (Bill Raden/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW ESCALATOR HILL Though they're from Echo Park, this five-piece outfit
sounds like the band with a standing Thursday-night summertime gig on
the back porch of a fraternity bar in a college town. Violinist Nancy
Kuo plays a sweet sadness that curls pleasantly around Ryan Ross'
gospel-tinged piano, and lead singer Tony Benedetti is awfully earnest,
if a little tone-deaf. Save for a few glimmering melodies, the show was
like a summer fling. You know it happened, but in such a
bourbon-soaked, humidity-stoked blur, all you recall is a fine haze.
Paul Gleason Theater. CLOSED (Rebecca Haithcoat/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW GO EURIPIDES' MEDEA Photo courtesy of paperStrangers' Performance Group
Coups de théâtre abound in this haunting adaptation
from wunderkind director Michael Burke and his Indianapolis-based
paperStrangers Performance Group. Burke, who also choreographs and
designs the show's brilliantly inventive feathered costumes, set
pieces, video projections and lighting, pares Euripides' text to its
brutal, psychic core. Melissa Fenton's sympathetic Medea is a tour de
force of blistering anguish and unbridled rage spilling into
infanticidal madness. Kellen York's aloof Jason is the emotionally
detached bastard who done her wrong. An eerie, wraithlike chorus
externalizes inner demons in ritualistic dance. And Burke's
breathtakingly theatrical denouement is not to be missed. Dorie Theater
at the Complex, 6476 Santa Monica Blvd., L.A.; Thurs.-Sun., 7 p.m.;
thru June 27. (866) 811-4111. (Bill Raden/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW GO THE EVENT Starting as an objective narration of the relationship
between the actor and the audience, this solo show slips quietly from
theater and the specific to life and the universal, doing so with
dignity but without pretension. Written by John Clancy, directed by Ian
Forester, and starring the mesmerizing Paul Dillon, this production is
destined for the status of a classic–if you tolerate Beckett and the
like. Though the character refers to himself as The Man and the
audience as The Strangers, he binds us to him as we reverently watch
without breathing, fascinated and ultimately awash in emotion.
Needtheater at the Paul G. Gleason Theatre, 6520 Hollywood Blvd.,
L.A.Thurs.-Sat., Sun., June 24, 26-27, 7:30 p.m. (323) 795-2215). (Dany
Margolies/courtesy of Back Stage)
NEW REVIEW FEELING SORRY FOR ROMAN POLANSKI Chicago import, Sideway Theater and
Taco Dog Productions production of Sue Cargill's amusing comedy about
victims and the people who love them. Amid kitchen banter between a
gossipy wife, Myrna (Danielle Fink), and her forlorn husband, Bink
(Michael Whitney), Bink reveals how his energetic performance of
singing a telegram in a gorilla suit induced a fatal seizure in the
almost 90-year-old recipient of his entertainment. As Bink faces the
loss of his job and some guilt, even his own wife starts to subtly
blame him. She cannot help but side with victims; this includes an
impassioned and slightly goofy defense of her favorite director, Roman
Polanski, attributing his alleged molestation of a 13-year-old girl to
his harrowing upbringing during the Holocaust, and the trauma of the
Sharon Tate murders. The droll humor spins in circles for a bit too
long under Michael A. Stock's direction, until Bink chooses to visit
the deceased woman's nephew (Joel Brady), her only living
relative, at her funeral. “I've decided not to sue you or your
company,” is supposed to be good news from the nephew, leading instead
to Bink's questioning the nephew as to why, exactly, he chose to hire
a guy in a gorilla suit to deliver a greeting to a woman so obviously
frail — a reasonable question that shifts responsibility back to where
it would belong in a rational world. But Cargill's world, in her
intriguing play with competent performances, is far from rational.
Theatre Asylum, 6320 Santa Monica Blvd., Hlywd.; thru June 27.
hollywoodfringe.org/project/view/108. (Steven Leigh Morris/L.A.
Weekly)
NEW REVIEW GO 55 MINUTES OF SEX, DRUGS, AND AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION Howard
Lieberman and Loren Niemi's storytelling tour de force plants its tent
pole deep in the territory of 1970s mythos, with the two men
improvising earthy tales that are hilarious yet strangely melancholy.
Some of the anecdotes undeniably hint at a nostalgia for a freer,
hippie past — of the four stories the two men unspooled, three
described incidents involving sex-and-LSD drenched communes. Of the
pair, Niemi, a craggy-faced, ponytail caparisoned character actor,
tells more deeply introspective stories about drug use and an innocent
romance, while Lieberman assays the persona of a neurotic Jewish
intellectual as he describes his first (near) homosexual experience and
his loss of virginity to a beautiful she-hippie. These two are
fascinating performers who manage to whip up a theatrical experience
from little more than their mouths and imaginations. ComedySportzLA,
Ballroom Studio Theatre, 733 Seward St., Hlywd.; June 22-27,
hollywoodfringe.org/project/view/54 (Paul Birchall/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW
GO 4 CLOWNS Here be four clowns — Sad Clown (Alexis Jones), Angry
Clown (Kevin Klein), Nervous Clown (Amir Levi), and Mischievous Clown
(Quincy Newton) — and as an announcer intones, they've lived, died and
resurrected, never changing, since “Before the earth trespassed across
the sky.” Odd, then, that creator Jeremy Aluma then shows us the
terrestrial agonies that shaped them: bad moms, torturing older
brothers, horny school teachers. It's clown catharsis as each directs
the rest to re-enact their childhood, adolescence, adulthood and death
in scenes that are skilled and true. Aluma may be saying that human
pain is at once particular and universal; what's certain is his cast is
gifted, including musical director Ellen Warkentine as the one woman
orchestra in the wings. Art/Works Theatre, 6569 Santa Monica Blvd. An
Alive Theatre production. hollywoodfringe.org/learn/content/257 (Amy
Nicholson/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW THE FUNERAL CRASHER From a grandma taking pictures at funerals and
saving the photos in the family Bible to a military funeral at sea,
which finds the coffin bobbing back up as the mourners look on,
writer-performer Stacy Mayer's concept of collecting funeral stories
from friends as she mines the field of dark comedy is clever. Vivacious
and bubbly, Mayer's delivery is well-suited to stand-up comedy, but her
material is slight and oddly cobbled together. Director Kimmy
Gatewood's penchant for moving chairs and stools around further
fragments the narrative. The stories need TLC. Presented by MC2
Productions and Green Room at ComedySportz LA, 733 Seward St., Hlywd.;
Sun., June 20, 7 p.m.; Mon., June 21, 3 p.m.; Tue., June 22, 7 p.m.;
Wed., June 23, 3 p.m.; Fri., June 25, 5 p.m. (866) 811-4111. (Melinda
Schupmann/courtesy of Back Stage)
NEW REVIEW GO I LAUGHED SO HARD I CRIED As you might expect from a comic who
dubs himself “the Goth Comedian,” Mark White tells jokes that edge
toward the darker and more disturbed side of the spectrum. Yet, you
need not be afraid that the Goth Jokester will come onstage, bite the
head off a bat, and then tell that tired gag about the two peanuts
walking down the street. Fortunately, it turns out that White is a
first-rate comedian who just happens to have a goth persona. Some of
White's material is amusing — most particularly jokes about his unique
childhood masturbation technique (“Assume the paratrooper position!”)
and his parents' sagging tattoos (“I have seen the future of tattoos,
and they're not pretty!”). Even given White's costume trappings of
ghoulish lipstick, mascara and a seersucker suit, the Goth Comedian's
routine is fresh and unexpectedly touching. In spite of his attempts to
portray himself as a freak, he ultimately comes across as a sweet,
oddly vulnerable fellow whose makeup belies an unexpected romantic
streak. Complex Theatre, 6476 Santa Monica Blvd., Hlywd. CLOSED. (Paul
Birchall/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW INVISIBLE The art of self-deprecation is beating the critic to the
criticism in order to sidestep public embarrassment.
Twenty-four-year-old writer-actor Anya Warburg takes that art to an
audacious new level by trying to wring humor from the dilemma of being
too young, too white, too “normal” and having lived too sheltered a
life to be a compelling stage artist. Unfortunately her show supports
that thesis with less than stellar results. Despite a sweet onstage
presence and several mildly amusing anecdotes, there just isn't enough
insight, incident or energy here to power a 70-minute performance.
Director Debra de Liso deals Warburg a disservice by even allowing this
out of the workshop. Dorie Theater at the Complex, 6476 Santa Monica
Blvd., Hlywd.; CLOSED. (Bill Raden/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW GO KILL YOUR TELEVISION Writer-performer Jeff Gardner's dialogue-free
solo comedy packs a wealth of trenchant pop-culture satire and
technical wizardry into a lightning-paced 40 minutes. A send-up of
couch-potato addicts and the pitfalls of leading lives enslaved by the
tube, the piece demonstrates what happens when the power of the
airwaves takes over the life of an obsessive watcher. Gardner's
ingenious physical shtick and rubber face bespeak volumes about his
socially isolated character. There are terrific lighting effects, and
the smashing soundtrack is punctuated with iconic sounds of commercials
and shows, contemporary and historical. Vicky Silva's slam-bang
direction seals the deal in Gardner's brilliant tour de force. Quantum
Theatre at Elephant Stages, 1076 Lillian Way, Hollywood. Sat., June 19,
3:30 p.m.; Sun., June 20, 3:30 and 7 p.m.; Wed., June 23, 8 p.m.; Sat.,
June 26, 2 p.m. (866) 811-4111. (Les Spindle/courtesy of Back Stage)
NEW REVIEW
LA LIGHTS FIRE With elements of humor and crude carnality, Joe Calarco
portrays 12 men, as a fire rages in the Hollywood Hills. Inspired by
recent L.A. conflagrations, Eric Czuleger has written a tightly
structured series of monologues, giving Calarco the opportunity to
become such characters as a firefighter, an aging skater-dude, an
agent, an actor, and an evangelistic preacher, to name a few. Directed
by Czuleger, Calarco delivers emotional heft to the characterizations
and makes the philosophical underpinnings of the story plausible.
Though the production could use editing, aided by Calarco's inventive
sound effects, it is memorable. Coeurage Theatre Company at
ComedySportz LA, 733 N. Seward St., Hollywood; CLOSED (Melinda
Schupmann/courtesy of Back Stage)
NEW REVIEW LOST MOON RADIO, EPISODE 6 A too-rare theater occurrence, this latest
episode of a serialized variety show that's been appearing every few
months at Los Angeles clubs is funny and intelligent. A somewhat hipper
“A Prairie Home Companion,” this hourlong faux radio show, hosted by
Jupiter Jack (Matt McKenna), features ridiculous commercials, sketches,
and callers, all performed by a cast of five and a live band. This
episode, an early Fourth of July celebration, features hilarious takes
on Americana, most memorably scenes from a forever-bickering Lewis and
Clark during the pair's famed expedition, and a doo-wop song sung by a
racist in the 1950s. Lost Moon Radio at Fringe Central Theatre of
Arts, 1625 N. Las Palmas, L.A. Fri., June 18, 9:30 p.m.; Wed.-Thu.,
June 23-24, 8 p.m.; Fri., June 25, 11 p.m.; Sat., June 26, 4:30 p.m.
(866) 811-4111. (Jeff Favre/courtesy of Back Stage)
NEW REVIEW
LOVE HAS NO GENDER Pacoima-based The Unusual Suspects presents Love Has
No Gender, written and performed by local youth, with guidance from
adult artists, in a program supported by El Nido Family Centers and the
office of City Councilman Richard Alarcón. The place is packed with
parents and friends, if the venue's 40-some seats warrant the adverb
packed. They've performed this show before in a 500-seat high school
gymnasium, they said in a postperf discussion. But here, in intimate
confines, they can be heard. In the story, two Latino families grapple
with issues of immigration, drug abuse and daughters who are a little
too close for their families' comfort, but things work out in the end.
The acting is remedial, and it doesn't matter a jot. What matters is
the postplay confession of sweet Sandra Gonzalez, who played one of the
leads, that — midsentence she teared up — “everyone here is so
friendly.” Theatre of NOTE. CLOSED (Steven Leigh Morris/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW LOVE & SEX IN THE EARTH'S SPIN CYCLE One of the keys to successful
dating, explains writer-performer Lambeth Sterling, is to look for “the
less fucked.” Directed by David Ford, Sterling's rather random musings
on her misdirected life course after growing up in the South–“the
buckle of the Bible Belt”–begin with a clever, spreadsheet-ready
breakdown of proper mate selection. The advice is heavily influenced by
12-step programs, therapists, and spiritual gurus. But the smart,
surprising writing that occasionally pops out in the meandering story
that follows never quite hits its mark. And as a performer, the quirky
Sterling often seems more lost in her own material than we are. Various
venues; thru June 27, (866) 811-4111. (Jennie Webb/courtesy of Back
Stage)
NEW REVIEW HIS MINUTE HAND In writer/director Stephen Kaliski's play, officers Rip
(Lloyd Mulvey) and Charles (Christopher Salazar) are bound to uphold a
law that demands women remain confined indoors because of “the war”
outside. However, their pregnant wives, Hilda (Rebecca Newman) and
Penelope (Nancy Noto), have cabin fever, so Charles decides to bend the
rules. The ensuing nonlinear collection of scenes, unfortunately, is
like a shower with an erratic water heater. Sometimes the volcanic
plumes of anger scald you, while at other times the disconnected
dialogue leaves you cold. Mostly, the action is lukewarm and confusing,
or as Charles says, “like pouring vinegar on waffles.” The Complex
Theatre, 6476 Santa Monica Blvd., Hlywd.; Mon.-Thurs., 3 p.m.;
Fri.-Sat., 3 p.m. & 7 p.m.; thru June 27. (866) 811-4111. A Green
Room Presents Production. (Mayank Keshaviah/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW MISSION OF FLOWERS Australian actor Leof Kingsford-Smith's solo
performance of Gerry Greenland's biographical drama is based on the
life and diary of English-Australian aviator Bill Lancaster. Alan
Walpole's set creates a kind of cart carved from the imagined wreckage
of Lancaster's plane, which crashed in the Sahara in 1933. And there's
that image of water once more as the essence of what we are. Lancaster
sits preserving energy, and crossing off chalk lines on a water canteen
as day after day tick by, with flickering and then fading hope that his
flares will be noticed by nearby pilots. The play is a fever dream as
Lancaster awaits rescue. For a fever, however, it sure is a
straightforward and rational account of the guy's memories, including
his affair with a flame — female aviator Chubby Miller — for whom
Lancaster divorced his wife. A mutual American friend then struck up a
romance with Chubby, and issues of betrayal, murder and/or suicide
percolate. Kingsford-Smith gives a tenderly rendered portrayal of
haughty adventurer who runs out of adventures, under Damien Lay's
direction. When he smacks his lips, you can feel that blistering Sahara
heat. Theatre Asylum, 6320 Santa Monica Blvd., Hlywd.; thru June 27.
hollywoodfringe.org/project/view/106. (Steven Leigh Morris/L.A.
Weekly)
NEW REVIEW
GO THE MOST DANGEROUS WOMAN IN AMERICA: (MACHINE GUNS, COAL DUST, AND
THE MAKING OF THE AMERICAN DREAM Eighty years after her death, Mother
Jones' howl for safe mines and responsible corporations still echoes.
Therese Diekhans' hell-raising one-woman show captures the lioness
shaming a field of miners about needing an 83-year-old woman to fight
their fight (in fairness, she lied about her age). Playwright David
Christie isn't interested in biography; this is a snapshot of a
firebrand and the climate that forged her, and under Carol Roscoe's
direction, the actress shifts wonderfully between 15 characters,
including a grandstanding John D. Rockefeller Jr., who pontificates to
workers that if they can't afford to feed their families, “Your
children should not have been born.” Theatre of NOTE, 1517 N. Cahuenga
Blvd., Hlywd.; hollywoodfringe.org/project/view/97. (Amy Nicholson/L.A.
Weekly)
NEW REVIEW THE PACKER Take away the geographical and cultural specifics and remove
the heavy Australasian accents, and Dianna Fuemana's gritty solo show
starring Jay Ryan and directed by Jeremy Lindsay Taylor could easily
take place in any American setting. That's because what drives
Fuemana's dozen or so characters are universal human desires that run
smack into harsh realities. Expertly played by Ryan, who seamlessly
transitions from the protagonist, Shane, to his alcoholic mother and to
a variety of West Auckland inhabitants, this production in one hour
offers a complex slice of life without moralizing or judging. Taylor
sets a lightning pace from the opening lines and drives the story full
speed until its satisfying conclusion. Theatre of NOTE, 1517 N.
Cahuenga Blvd., Hlywd.; Tue., June 22, 8 p.m.; Thur., June 24, 10 p.m.;
Sat., June 26, 6:30 p.m.; Sun., June 27, 2 p.m. (323) 956-8611. (Jeff
Favre/courtesy of Back Stage)
NEW REVIEW
PINK CHAMPAGNE Writer-performer Dylan Jones heads an offbeat musical
entertainment, supported by four able dancer-singers (Jay Willick,
Addison Witt, Tara Norris, Kaiti Tronnes), under Aryiel Hartman's
direction. Jones is superior to her acid-trip material, which suggests
a cross between On a Clear Day You Can See Forever and Lady in the
Dark. When diva entertainer Mathilde (Jones) admits to a crisis of
confidence, she undergoes past life-regression therapy to find herself,
experiencing a series of bizarre misadventures. The songs are primarily
lifted from classic Broadway shows. The rewritten lyrics are awkwardly
imposed, and the songs seldom fit their contexts or work as parodies.
Presented by Freakstar Entertainment at the Elephant Stages, 1076
Lillian Way, Hlywd.; Sat., June 19, 2 p.m.; Wed., June 23, 9:30 p.m.;
Sat., June 26, 3:30 p.m. (866) 811-4111. (Les Spindle/courtesy of Back
Stage)
NEW REVIEW THE STORIES OF CÉSAR CHÁVEZ Writer/director Fred Blanco's heartfelt if
hagiographic, one-man show about the late civil rights leader, labor
organizer and United Farm Workers founder seeks to put a human face on
the enigmatic and provocative Hispanic messiah. Through multiple
characters and perspectives, Blanco charts Chávez's rise from his
childhood as a California migrant worker, through his zoot-suited teens
as a barrio tough, to the discovery of books and learning, which
culminated with his conversion to the cause of economic justice. While
Blanco is an affecting performer, this life in brief revels in the
triumphs but avoids the controversies that might have lent complexity
to his blemish-free portrait. Theatre Asylum, 6320 Santa Monica Blvd.,
L.A.; Thurs., 10 a.m.; Sat., 2:30 p.m.; thru June 26. (866) 811-4111.
(Bill Raden/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW
GO THAT'S FUNNY. YOU DIDN'T SOUND BLACK ON THE PHONE
Performer Jacquetta Szathmari explains that for many years she had “given
up on being black,” not out of any internalized racism but because she
had always disapproved of the narrow definition of behavior imposed on
her by the outside community. In her cracklingly smart, funny,
philosophical and often politically incorrect monologue, Szathmari
describes growing up in an isolated, hardscrabble rural Maryland
community, where she always dreamed of finding class and culture — it's
not that she didn't want to be black, she wanted to be upper class and
live the life exemplified by a copy of The Official Preppy Handbook she
purchased at a library bookstore. Thoughtful, introspective and sweetly
intimate, Szathmari's solo show offers a great deal to ponder, as it
presents a genuine, unapologetic nonconformist on her own journey of
self-discovery. Various locations,
hollywoodfringe.org/learn/content/268. (Paul Birchall/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW GO THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID This lesbian-themed, cabaret-style piece,
featuring the abundant talents of vocalist Amy Turner and
keyboardist-singer Kathryn Lounsbery, is first-rate fun. Their original
numbers (“Lesbian Cliché Song,” “Fanny Pack Lover,” “U-Haul Rap,” etc.)
and comedic rapport are charmingly witty. Though occasionally a bit
“inside” with the countless sexual/genitalia references, the duo's
output is remarkably diverse in style. Highlights include a send-up
called “H.M.Lez Pinafore,” “You Can't Spell Pussy Without US,” a
country-western piece whose title adorns the pair's T-shirts, and “Why
Is My Right Wrong?” a requisite yet touching anti-Proposition 8 ballad.
All in all, these ladies offer something for everyone. Los Angeles
Women's Theatre Project at the Stella Adler Theatre, 6773 Hollywood
Blvd., L.A. Fri., 8 p.m.; thru July 16. (818) 471-9100. (Dink
O'Neal/courtesy of Back Stage)
NEW REVIEW GO T-O-T-A-L-L-Y! In Kimleigh Smith's one-person show, she portrays
herself as a 17-year-old virgin, an ingratiating cheerleader who speaks
in Valley-girl cadences, where every sentence is peppered with
“totally.” She endures a gang rape and the eventual recovery of her
sexuality, which was shut down after the attack. This is the formula
for what could have been the worst one-woman show ever seen; it's
actually among the best, thanks entirely to Smith's superhuman
vivacity, her blistering sense of humor, in which, with considerable
physical heft, she performs those ridiculous high school cheers in a
teensy, revealing skirt with a mania that crosses deep into mockery.
She is without shame, and she's earned that right. There's not a trace
of self-pity; rather, super-hero determination. And when she details
her technique for seducing a lover, the result is one of the most
erotic, funniest scenes you'll find on any stage, anywhere. Paula
Killen directs, and obviously knows exactly what she's doing. Theatre
of NOTE, 1517 N. Cahuenga Blvd., Hlywd.; June 25 8:30 p.m.; June 26,
4:15 p.m.; June 27, 4:15 p.m. (323) 856-8611. (Steven Leigh Morris/L.A.
Weekly)
NEW REVIEW
TRUE WEST GIRL “There were good times too. It wasn't all incest and
booze.” While this is true, Barbara Lee Bragg's solo show is akin to
being accosted by a passionate PETA activist and spending an hour with
her: you believe in the cause, there's genuine emotion behind her
claims, but the unchecked gusher of words and imagery spewing at you is
a little hard to take. Bragg's source material is gold, especially her
stint as a youth coordinator for Dick Cheney in the 1970s, but she and
director Deborah De Liso could stand to tame the wild west a bit in
order to make the experience less overwhelming. The Lounge Theatre,
6201 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood; Sat., 5 p.m.; Mon., 8 p.m.; thru
June 26. (866) 811-4111. A White Hawk Productions Production. (Mayank
Keshaviah/L.A. Weekly)
NEW REVIEW GO UNBUTTONED At the end of Andreas Beckett's musical solo show, from
backstage he reemerges sporting a Bavarian alpine hat, and then dons a
baseball cap as he sings “God Bless America.” It's a fitting finale to
this whirlwind tour of a life that started in a farming community at
the foot of the Bavarian Alps and wound up in America steeped in show
business. Beckett spends a lot of time discussing numerous romantic
escapades, which aren't always interesting, but he makes up for that
with crackling spontaneity and humor. He can sing — really well — and
receives splendid piano accompaniment by Mikael Oganesian. Mitzie Welch
directs. Lounge Theater, 6201 Santa Monica Blvd., L.A.; Mon, Fri.,
Sat., 8 p.m., Sun., 2 p.m., thru. June 27. (Lovell Estell III/L.A.
Weekly)
NEW REVIEW
GO THE WASTELAND Nothing is simple about T.S. Eliot's seminal
modernist poem, and co-directors Hilario Saavedra, Jason Bonduris,
Celeste Den, Tane Kawasaki and Carla Nassy use it as inspiration for a
provocative performance piece. The troupe employs dance, spoken word
and simple objects (lights, glasses) and the beating of a drum to
create stark images while reciting sections of the poem. Themes of
death, infirmity and impotence are common throughout, which Saavedra
and his darkly clad actors capture with subtle force. The section
titled “Death By Water,” is especially powerful, where a flurry of
balloons, representing water drops, is unleashed onstage. Theatre
Asylum Lab, 6320 Santa Monica Blvd., L.A.; Tues. 2:30, Wed., 7 p.m.;
Sat., 1 & 10:30 p.m.; thru June 26. (Lovell Estell III/ L.A.
Weekly)
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