Broadway and the Vaudeville circuit began in Los Angeles 100 years ago, in the downtown Historical Theater District named after New York's Broadway. That district still houses the largest number of historic theaters on one street in the country. A celebration of the 100th birthday of its earliest theaters starts March 26, with a series of multi-cultural events, historical retrospectives, tours and film screenings.
The kickoff is at the
Million Dollar Theatre with Theatrefication, the launch-event for the Los Angeles Broadway centennial celebration, BROADWAY 100. Other partners include the Los Angeles Conservancy, REDCAT, and the Los Angeles Historic Theatre Foundation.
Theatrefication features two avant-garde performances; a world premiere play with music by David J (Bauhaus and Love And Rockets), and an electropera (opera set to electronic dance music) by Helene Federici. Artist Shepard Fairey will be spinning a DJ set for the exclusive after party.
David J's The Chanteuse and the Devil's Muse sheds a chilling new light and a long-awaited reveal of the culprit behind the famous Hollywood cold case of the Black Dahlia with live music (a collaboration between David J and Ebola Music Orchestra's Ego Plum). This performance will also features the world renowned butoh artist, Vangeline.
Helene Federici's ET Mostavy is a tale of intergalactic turmoil told by the journalist who is trying to broadcast the opposing viewpoints. With an original electronic dance score by Chris Yanson, this electropera features stunning 3-D animation projections by Michael Allen, and incorporates the talents of the L.A. Breakers, Xtreme Motion, and operatic soloist Rachel Staples. Select pieces from the couture design house, SKINGRAFT, will be used as costumes.
For COMPLETE THEATER LISTINGS, press the More tab directly below.
COMPREHENSIVE THEATER LISTINGS for February 25 – March 3, 2011
The Berlin Dig
Photo by J
Playwright John Stuercke's attempted exploration of ideas and
ideology about fascism and world politics results in a stupefying mash:
The play takes place in present-day Berlin, where Dieter (Roy Allen),
after the funeral services for his mother, plays host to old friends
Peter (Irwin Moskowitz) and Rolf (Markus Obermeier). It isn't long
before the conversation turns to family ties, to times past and the Nazi
era, sparking a drawn-out, vapid exposition about history, complicity
and German guilt. It's here that Stuercke's pen goes a-wandering, and
doesn't seem to know where to settle, as the discussion turns to
contemporary politics, racism, immigration in Germany and America, oil,
the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the auto industry, Bush and Cheney,
the Kennedy assassination, slavery, communism, even the Armenian
Genocide, all of which transpires in the span of two benevolently short
acts. In Act 2, Stuercke, who also directs, mixes in a little bit of
suspense, when it's revealed that Dieter's father was really a Nazi, and
a relative arrives from America. By this time, it doesn't matter.
Completing the misfire are German accents better suited to Hogan's Heroes
and terrible performances that bury whatever potential the play may
have had. El Centro Theatre, 800 N. El Centro Ave., Hlywd.; Fri.-Sat., 8
p.m., Sun., 2 p.m., through March 6. (800) 838-3006. (Lovell Estell
III)
THE BEST OF LOVE BITES: 10 YEARS TOGETHER . . . AND STILL NO RING
Elephant Theatre Company's annual short play festival, presenting the
company's best one-acts of the past decade. (Two evenings run in rep.).
Elephant Space Theatre, 6322 Santa Monica Blvd., L.A.; Thurs.-Fri., 8
p.m.; thru
March 18, ElephantTheatreCompany.com. (877) 369-9112.
THE BEVERLY HILLS PSYCHIATRIST This double bill of one-acts by German
scholar-educator-playwright Cornelius Schnauber makes it clear he is
not a fan of psychiatry. The title play tells us about the Psychiatrist
(Alexander Zale) and his maddening treatment of his long-suffering
Patient (Tony Motzenbacher), a writer fraught with anxieties. The doctor
is absent-minded –he can never remember his patient's name –and tends
to fall asleep during therapy sessions; whenever he's asked a concrete
question, he evades it and ends the session. This goes on for 19
maddeningly repetitious scenes, during which one can only wonder why the
patient doesn't just leave. At the end, the patient finally does
realize his doctor is a fraud, but it's too little and too late. Perhaps
Schnauber was attempting a Pinterian conundrum, but Pinter was never
this dull. The second play, “Highway One,” is actually an excerpt from a
longer work, consisting of a monologue by an opera singer (Lene
Pedersen) as she prepares to perform Aida and worries about the
daughter she gave up for adoption years before. Director Louis Fantasia
stages the pieces ably enough, and there is excellent work by the three
actors, but they can't save the plays from themselves. (Neal Weaver).
Lounge Theatre, 6201 Santa Monica Blvd., L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3
p.m.; thru March 6, plays411.com/beverlyhills. (323) 960-4418.
BUT NOT FOR LOVE This long one-act by Matthew Everett, originally
commissioned by the Playshop Theatre in Meadville, Pa., tackles the
hotly contested subject of gay marriage. Eleanor (Krystal Kennedy) and
her brother Ephram (John Croshaw) are getting married in a double
wedding –and both are marrying men, turning the event into a media
circus, with protestors, news vans and cops camped outside the church.
Eleanor and Ephram's husband-to-be, Patrick (Andy Loviska), are
political activists, who want their wedding to be a public statement,
while Ephram and Eleanor's fiance, Roland (Chadbourne Hamblin), resent
having their private lives turned into a political spectacle. Things are
further complicated by Patrick's brother (Nick Sousa), who's a
religious zealot, determined to prevent the wedding by any means
necessary, and the minister, known as The Duchess (Natasha St.
Clair-Johnson), who's a postoperative transsexual. And Duke (Patrick
Tiller), the cop assigned to monitor the demonstrations, is strongly
attracted to the Duchess, unaware of her gender change. The production,
helmed by director Richard Warren Baker, is most successful in its
quieter, more human moments than in its strident political declarations,
when it topples over into melodrama. The events are not always
credible, but there are strong performances from Sousa, St.
Clair-Johnson and Tiller. (Neal Weaver). Renegade Theatre (formerly the
Actor's Playpen), 1514 N. Gardner St., L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 6
p.m.; thru March 13, plays411.com/forlove. (323) 960-4443.
BUTTERFLY Michael Antin's musical tale of a shy girl and a
psychologist. Write Act Theater, 6128 Yucca St., L.A.; Thurs.-Sat., 8
p.m.; thru Feb. 26. (323) 469-3113.
CABARET IDOL SEASON 2 James Mooney's weekly vocal competition, with
winners voted on by the audience. Hollywood Studio Bar & Grill, 6122
W. Sunset Blvd., L.A.; Sun., 7 p.m.; thru April 24. (323) 466-9917.
GO CAUGHT In the aftermath of Proposition 8 passing
in November 2008, one of the regrets of those who fought valiantly for
gay marriage and against the proposition was that enough wasn't done to
“normalize” gay couples. And while the events in David L. Ray's
world-premiere play take place in July 2008, Caught furthers
the cause by dramatizing one of those healthy relationships. In it,
Angelenos Kenneth (Corey Brill) and Troy (Will Beinbrink) are on the eve
of their nuptials, a ceremony that will be officiated by their friend
Splenda (Micah McCain), who is ordained via the Internet. This blissful
scene is interrupted by a visit from Kenneth's estranged sister, Darlene
(Deborah Puette), who is very Southern and very Christian, as well as
her daughter, Krystal (Amanda Kaschak). In the interludes between
scenes, we also see Darlene's husband, T.J. (Richard Jenik), preaching
to his conservative congregation in Georgia. Secrets, lies and
surprising revelations fuel the drama. Director Nick DeGruccio deftly
takes Ray's strong and likable characters from page to stage, sparingly
playing up stereotypes for comedy without ever reducing the characters
to them. Adding to the authenticity are Adam Flemming's delightfully
detailed set and Katherine Hampton Noland's colorful couture. Adding to
the emotional investment in the story is a talented cast; standouts
include Puette, for her rich and intense portrayal of Darlene; McCain,
for balancing divalike comedy with deep sincerity; and Kaschak, for
combining fresh-faced innocence and a willfulness to create a very
believable teenager. (Mayank Keshaviah). Zephyr Theater, 7456 Melrose
Ave., L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; thru April 3. (800)
595-4849.
GO CRACK WHORE GALORE — LIVE! Created by Tonya
Corneilisse, Ryan Oliver, Danny Roew, Graham Sibley and director Gates
McFadden, this obscenely funy late night rock music comedy sketch
features Cornelisse and Sibley as a pair of Brit-trash rockers who met
in a London rehab and somehow made it it to Hollywood, or at least to
its sidewalks, in pursuit of Rock 'n' Roll stardom. Their band is called
Crack Whore, and their hourlong cabaret opens with warmup balladeer
Jackie Tohn, on acoustic guitar, crooning with remarkable vocal
dexterity about low self-esteem and love. Into her act crash wafer thin,
obnoxiously loud drummer Abbey (in shades, skirt, and torn fishnets)
and guitarist Danny Galore (in vest and ripped shirt) wielding a
shopping cart filled with mannequins and other crap for their act.
Commenting loudly on how each of Tohn's song is worse than the next,
they “set up” behind her, while she attempts to finish her act. They
smash open a rolldown screen (to be used for a preview of their sex
tape, sold after the show in the lobby). The moment when the livid Tone
leaves the stage captures the moment when '60s folk yielded to punk.
What follows is pornography in song. You'd think Abbey is beyond a
melt-down, but in a moment of despondency, she crawls inside the
shopping cart: “I can't do this anymore, Danny, I just can't.” To woo
her back, and out, he croons the love song that he wrote just for her:
“It's all clogged up/The pressure's all built up/I think I might
explode/Now I need to blow my fucking load . . .” Abbey swoons in
adoration, and they're back on track. The power of love, and of song.
They try to tell us their “story,” or to sell us their story –which is
the larger point –but can't agree on the details. She's told a wrong
version so many times, he can't quite grasp what's real anymore. There,
but for the grace of God . . . It's not a life-changing event, but the
energy electrifies, the music is surprisingly good, and the performances
are top-tier. (Steven Leigh Morris). Atwater Village Theatre, 3269
Casitas Ave., L.A.; Thurs., Sat., 10:30 p.m.; thru March 12,
ensemblestudiotheatrela.org. (323) 644-1929.
GO THE CRADLE WILL ROCK When Orson Welles attempted
to open his production of this Marc Blitzstein musical in 1937, it had
to contend with attempts to shut it down by the U.S. Congress, the
bureaucrats of the Federal Theatre Project and Actors' Equity. The fact
that it was able to open at all was epic. In Blitzstein's work, the
cradle represents not the sleeping baby of the lullaby, but a corrupt
and immoral establishment bent on co-opting every aspect of American
life. In Steeltown, USA, in 1937, local tycoon Mr. Mister (Peter Van
Norden) has corrupted press, church, educators, artists and doctors to
serve his greed and power hunger. He's opposed only by labor organizer
Larry Foreman (Rex Smith, looking and sounding like the quintessential
1930s working-class hero), who leads a stirring call to action. Generic
names like Reverend Salvation (Christopher Carroll) and Dr. Specialist
(Rob Roy Cesar) are standard elements of agit-prop theater, but here the
characters are given enough personal eccentricities to keep them funny
and human. In bringing back many elements of his 1995 production for
this same theater, director Daniel Henning gives us a lively, rousing,
highly stylized version and doesn't patronize us by overinsisting on the
obvious contemporary parallels. There are terrific performances from
musical director David O and a hugely talented cast of 19, with special
kudos to Smith, Gigi Bermingham as a soign<0x00E9> Mrs. Mister,
Tiffany C. Adams, Jack Laufer, David Trice, Will Barker, Lowe Taylor,
Matt Wolpe and several others. (Neal Weaver). Stella Adler Theatre, 6773
Hollywood Blvd., L.A.; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; thru March
20, TheBlank.com. (323) 661-9827.
GO CYCLOPS: A ROCK OPERA It gets so wearying –all
the satyr plays being done in L.A. … No, hold on, sorry: Was confusing
satyr plays with autobiographical solo shows. Satyr plays are an
ancient Greek oddity: violent, erotic, comedic concoctions that used to
be performed with three tragedies in annual festivals. Only one still
exists, Cyclops by Euripides, filched from the Homeric legend
of Odysseus being drawn to the shores of Mt. Aetna by the seductive love
call of the Sirens. In Louis Butelli, Chas LiBretto & Robert
Richmond's scintillating rock-opera adaptation, featuring a hedonistic
band (The Satyrs) in goat-skin pantaloons and a bare-chested drummer
(Stephen Edelstein), that love call sounds like so much caterwauling.
Co-directed by the co-adapters, the event recalls Radoslaw Rychik's
adaptation of Bernard-Marie Koltes' In the Solitude of Cotton Fields
last year at REDCAT –a similar kind of rock cantata backed up by the
Polish band Natural Born Chillers. Here, almost everyone's eyes are
rimmed in goth black paint, and half the cast have fingernails to match.
The music ranges from twisted ukulele-accompanied ballads, to Mick
Jagger and punk lampoons, singing the story of how Odysseus (LiBretto)
subjugated (by intoxicating with wine and then blinding) the one-eyed
cycloptic monster, Polyphemus (Jayson Landon Marcus), who has been
holding Dionysus (Casey Brown) captive, along with almost everyone else
in the shadow of the mountain. (Polyphemus is the embittered son of
Poseidon, if you follow such things.) A trio of gorgeous Maenads (Nicole
Flannigan, Madeleine Hamer, Liz Sydah), attired in figure-clenching
silks (costumes by Caiti Hawkins), serve as back-up singers (and more).
One of them mentions that cruelty in life brings a legacy of contempt,
whereas kindness brings a legacy of enduring love. This beautiful idea
doesn't sound particularly Greek, given their rigid codes of honor and
revenge. Whether or not Homer or Euripides gave it lip service, that
Shakespearean notion anchors and gives this ancient comic-book update
its humanity, a moral hall pass for the hedonism it wallows in so
glee-fully, and with such style and skill. (Steven Leigh Morris). Son of
Semele, 3301 Beverly Blvd., L.A.; Through March 4, 8 p.m.,
sonofsemele.org/shows/ccf2011.html…
GO DADDY Dan Via's Off-Broadway hit, receiving its
L.A. premiere, is set in the context of the impassioned debate over gay
marriage. Handsome gay newspaper columnist Colin (Gerald McCullouch) and
buttoned-down lawyer Stewart (playwright Via) have been best friends
for 20 years. Despite a bit of hanky-panky in their college days, their
friendship has never become a love affair, though they're closer in many
respects than some lovers. When Colin begins an affair with Tee (Ian
Verdun), an eager young man half his age, it's a seismic shock to the
long-standing relationship. Stewart is resentful of the boy's incursion
into their lives, and suspects there's more to Tee than meets the eye.
But when he tries to tell Colin about his doubts and suspicions, Colin
dismisses them as mere jealousy. Though Via's play gets off to a slow
start, things that initially seem cryptic or merely casual prove to be
of crucial importance as it progresses, and the piece builds to a
startling finale. Director Rick Sparks elicits finely nuanced
performances from his three principals, and Adam Flemming provides the
handsome and flexible unit set. (Neal Weaver). Hudson Guild Theatre,
6539 Santa Monica Blvd., L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7 p.m.; thru
March 13. (323) 856-4249.
DIRT Writer-director Bruce Gooch's barnyard gothic is set on a farm
where the horses are dead, the cows sold and the dog eaten by coyotes.
Mom's dead, too, and son Zac (Ryan Johnston) is in exile. This leaves
Papa (John D. Johnston) alone to work the land, whether or not it needs
working, because it's a sin to slack. (The Johnstons are real-life
nephew and uncle.) Set designer David Potts has draped the walls in
dense netting and installed a front porch that looms like a gallows.
It's an apt backdrop for when Zac returns to find his muscular pops has
gone dangerously senile. And as the set is stockpiled with a hatchet,
knife, saw and shotgun, I'd take Dad seriously when he threatens that he
won't leave his land without a fight. Though Ryan Johnston is miscast
as the estranged son, his clashes with John D. Johnston spark. Too
often, however, Gooch has them communicate to each other (and us)
through monologues and memories; the script sidesteps as often as it
allows them to butt horns head-on. Andrea Robinson is quite fine as a
local waitress who swings by to check on the fellas, but the stars of
the show are the evocative technics (even if in one climax, the symbolic
thunder drowned out the big speech) and the elder Johnston, whose
presence dominates the play like a frontier Fury. Post-Lennie Smalls,
overall-clad dementia is tricky business –at times, the play seems to
want the subtitle “Of Mice and Dad” — but veteran actor John D.
Johnston pivots on a nail head from mulish to brutish to yearning,
giving the play an immediacy it needs to unleash. (Amy Nicholson).
Theatre/Theater, 5041 Pico Blvd., L.A.; Sun., 3 p.m.; Thurs.-Sat., 8
p.m.; thru Feb. 27, roguemachinetheatre.com. (323) 960-5563.
DOUG LOVES MOVIES Free. Upright Citizens Brigade Theater, 5919 Franklin Ave., L.A.; Tues., 7:30 p.m.. (323) 908-8702.
EMILY'S SONG Its promo tagline, “An epic musical journey straight to
your heart,” would seem to place writer-director Chet Holmes' musical in
the same category as straight-to-video releases with similar epithets.
Considering Holmes' background in screenwriting and his desire to tell
“highly satisfying commercial stories that appeal to the masses,” it's
hardly surprising that his foray into musical theater fits the bill. In
it, aspiring musician Charlie Everson (Tom Schmid) gains a daughter and
loses a wife on the same day. Though young Emily (Darcy Rose Byrnes)
grows up motherless, her talent for music brings her close to her
father. Then one fateful evening, Charlie disappears, leaving Emily an
orphan with housekeeper and de facto nanny Rosa (Elena
Campbell-Martinez) as her only family. The next 10 years involve both
older Emily (Lindsey Haun) rising to stardom as a singer, and Charlie
starting over after he is robbed of his memory. Although the premise is
interesting, the problem is that the story is told so cinematically:
There are close to 100 scenes, some of which are four lines long before a
blackout. While this may work on screen, it is disjointed and jarring
on stage. The songs, co-written with Amanda Holmes and Tom Shepard, are
pleasantly melodic, but many are too short to be musically satisfying.
Still, Haun's voice is a highlight of the show, and she and Schmid do
the numbers justice. The two of them, along with the perky and
precocious Byrnes, are very talented performers, but, like the rest of
the cast, they're constrained by the formulaic and at times melodramatic
storytelling. (Mayank Keshaviah). Hudson Backstage Theatre, 6539 Santa
Monica Blvd., L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.; thru Feb. 27. (323)
960-7788.
FACEBOOK The weekly show formerly known as MySpace., $5. Upright Citizens Brigade Theater, 5919 Franklin Ave., L.A.; Wed., 9:30 p.m.. (323) 908-8702.
FREE $$$ Jonas Oppenheim's faux self-improvement workshop, hosted by
Robin and Randy Petraeus, Power Couple, “authors in the field of
positive thought energy.”. Sacred Fools Theater, 660 N. Heliotrope Dr.,
L.A.; Sun., 7 p.m.; thru March 20. (310) 281-8337.
FULL BLOWN Andrew Ableson and Jean Spinosa's stowaway tale. Part of
Son of Semele's Company Creation Festival. Son of Semele, 3301 Beverly
Blvd., L.A.; Sat., Feb. 26, 8 p.m.; Sun., Feb. 27, 5 p.m.; Through March
11, 8 p.m., sonofsemele.org/shows/ccf2011.html…
GAYS R US Erin Foley and her funny pals, gay and otherwise., $14. The
Improv, 8162 Melrose Ave., L.A.; First Thursday of every month, 8 p.m..
(323) 651-2583.
GROUNDLINGS SINGLE CRUISE All-new sketch and improv, directed by
Mikey Day. Groundling Theater, 7307 Melrose Ave., L.A.; Fri., 8 p.m.;
Sat., 8 & 10 p.m.; thru April 23. (323) 934-9700.
INKUBATOR Katselas Theatre Company's monthly performance showcase of
projects in various stages of development. Skylight Theater, 1816 1/2 N.
Vermont Ave., L.A.; Last Friday of every month, 8 p.m.; Last Saturday
of every month, 8 p.m.; Last Sunday of every month, 4 p.m.; thru Nov.
27. (702) KTC-TKTS.
A JEW GROWS IN BROOKLYN Jake Ehrenreich's comedy musical memoir.
American Jewish University, 15600 Mulholland Dr., Bel-Air; Tues.-Thurs.,
7:30 p.m.; Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 & 5 p.m.; thru March 6. (866)
811-4111.
JUMP/CUT Neena Beber's study of friendship and mental illness. Arena
Stage at Theater of Arts (formerly the Egyptian Arena Theater), 1625 N.
Las Palmas Ave., L.A.; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; thru March 26,
jumpcut2011.tix.com. (323) 595-4849.
KEEP IT CLEAN COMEDY Hosted by JC Coccoli., Free. 1739 Public House,
1739 N. Vermont Ave., L.A.; Mon., 10:30 p.m.. (323) 663-1739.
LA RAZON BLINDADA (THE ARMORED REASON) How does a prisoner survive
without hope? Writer/director Aristides Vargas drew inspiration for this
poignantly horrific black comedy from the experience of his brother, a
political prisoner in Argentina during that country's military
dictatorship. Confined in solitary, prisoners were permitted a brief
respite on Sunday, when they could meet and talk, albeit while remaining
seated and with their hands on the table. That setup provides the
physical framework for this luminously surreal 80-minute one-act in
which two incarcerated men come together to role-play –one calling
himself De La Mancha (Jesus Castanos Chima), the other Panza (Arturo
Diaz de Sandy). The actors remain seated throughout, navigating across
the stage on wooden chairs with wheels. Within these loosely assumed
personae, the pair frolic through a hallucinatory landscape, clowning
their way through speculations about madness, sanity, heroism and human
bonding, and conjuring an elaborate fantasy of regency over an island
that brilliantly mocks the nature of power. In the end, the aim of the
game is survival –not as rational beings, because reality would be too
painful, but as madmen whose lunacy frees them from the shame of
powerlessness. The performances are consummate and the staging, as
eloquent as the text, features a videographed landscape over which their
sunken shadows pass, and Faure's Elegie for Violoncello and Orchestra
to underscore the pathos. (Deborah Klugman). 24th Street Theater, 1117
W. 24th St., L.A.; Sat., 8 p.m.; thru Feb. 26. (800) 838-3006.
GO LOVE LETTERS TO WOMEN Flowers irritating your
sinuses? Fondants being stuffed down your throat? Frilly Hallmark
sentiments causing excessive eye-rolling? Marketers work overtime in
early February to sell romance while inadvertently stimulating the “ugh”
reflex. So forgive us if the premise of this world premiere, created by
German Michael Torres and written by Ryan T. Husk, gives us pause.
Inspired by Torres' life growing up with five older sisters, the series
of monologues examines men's relationships with all the women in their
lives. The opening sequence, in which the five actors offer descriptive
phrases such as “women are faith” and “women are queen,” is as
sickly-sweet as a box of cheap chocolates. Fortunately, though, director
Hector Rodriguez has cast a group of men talented enough to overcome
that initial saccharine taste by rendering the monologues that follow
with real heart. Mario Martinez delivers his one-liners (“She was
foreign-exchange-student hot”) as casually as if they just came to him,
and J. Todd Howell's realizations as a good ol' boy confronting his
prejudices elicited tears in the audience. Michael Ruesga easily is the
star of the show, and the night could use more of Jeff Blumberg's
adorable dorkiness. Even Kevin Vavasseur, who's like a bull in an
airplane bathroom, finds his stride in a piece about the Lakers. Across
the board, the monologues are too long, but over the course of the
evening, even the coldest, crankiest resistance to romantic
sentimentality will have started to melt a little. (Rebecca Haithcoat).
Casa 0101, 2009 E. First St., L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 5 p.m.;
thru March 6, Casa0101.org. (323) 263-7684.
GO MACHO LIKE ME In her solo performance, the very
funny Helie Lee explores the issue of male privilege from a South Korean
female perspective. (Though she was born in Seoul, her family emigrated
to the U.S. when she was 4.) She saw firsthand how her brother was
treated as a crown prince, while she and her sister were judged purely
on their marital prospects –provoking her parents' urgent concern with
getting her married. She decided to live as a man for 10 weeks, to
experience the strength and freedom she attributed to men. She strapped
down her bosom, had her hair cut short, acquired a masculine wardrobe
and set out to gain entry to all-male enclaves; the results were not
what she expected. She found that men's lives were no less constricted
than women's, limited by competitive machismo and the fear of being
perceived as gay. The tale is both illuminating and hilarious as she
gains new insights into what it's like to live as a man and as a woman.
By the end of her experiment, she's delighted to return to the familiar
bonds of femininity. With director Sammy Wayne, she has forged a rich,
witty, seamless tale. (Neal Weaver). Matrix Theatre, 7657 Melrose Ave.,
L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; thru March 12. (800) 595-4849.
MAGIC STRINGS Bob Baker's marionette variety revue, featuring puppet
horses on a merry-go-round, an opera diva on roller skates, a “Day at
the Circus,” and an all-American grand finale. Bob Baker Marionette
Theater, 1345 W. First St., L.A.; Sat.-Sun., 2:30 p.m.; Tues.-Fri.,
10:30 a.m.. (213) 250-9995.
GO ME, AS A PENGUIN Yorkshire playwright Tom Wells'
comedy, in its U.S. premiere, is a throwback to British “Kitchen Sink”
dramas of the 1950s. This one might be dubbed a “Toilet Bowl” comedy. “I
think you should see this,” says visiting Stitch (Brendan Hunt),
peeking out from the bathroom door belonging to his his very pregnant
sister, Liz ( Mina Badie). “Whatever you've done, just keep flushing,”
she fires back from her threadbare couch. The play unfolds from her
grubby living room. With his penchant for the comfort of knitting,
idiosyncratic and perhaps mentally touched Stitch is visiting his sister
in Hull from even more rural Withernsea, in order to check out Hull's
gay scene. The tenderness between the misfit, almost mortally lonely
Stitch and his very pregnant sister has much in common with Shelagh
Delaney's 1958 similarly tender play, A Taste of Honey. Themes
of loyalty, love, and desperate longing -intertwined with
sado-masochistic behaviors –just keep trickling across the divide of
centuries, and in much the same gritty, earthy theatrical style depicted
in filthy furniture (set by John Pleshette) that represents poverty,
and not just the poverty of financial resources. Pleshette directs a
fine production that gets to the heart of the matter, even if some of
the North Country dialects drift a wee bit southwest into, say, Alabama.
Hunt serves up a dynamic performance as Stitch, laced with twitches and
subtle mannerisms. Bradie's Liz has a similar richness and
authenticity. James Donovan plays Liz's partner, and the father of her
child, Mark, with a blend of the requisite gruffness required by a guy
trying to scrape out a living in Hull, masking a soft-heartedness that
would get him cast out to sea, were more people to know about it. Stitch
becomes obsessed with a callow aquarium attendant named Dave, played by
Johnny Giacalone with an arrogant brutishness that's a pleasingly
heart-hearted antidote to the eccentric humanity that shows up in the
room. In her pregnancy, Liz has become almost addicted to a popular
British snack called Battenberg cake. “Ah,” remarks Stitch drolly,
watching her opens the wrapper and melt into paroxysms of delight at the
first bite: “Sponge. Jam. Marzipan. All the major food groups.” What
keep audiences watching new plays may not be new forms at all, but
merely the references that provide the necessary inclusion. The Lost
Studio, 130 S. La Brea Ave., Los Angeles; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 4
p.m.; through March 6 (323) 960-7721. (Steven Leigh Morris). Lost
Studio, 130 S. La Brea Ave., L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 4 p.m.; thru
March 6, plays411.com/me. (323) 960-7721.
MLLE. GOD Playwright Nicholas Kazan's uninspired spin on Frank
Wedekind's “Lulu” plays comes as a cautionary reminder of just how
difficult it is to capture libido on a stage. What some might think is
the essence of the erotic mystique certainly will seem for others to be
little more than an embarrassingly self-revealing mistake. That the
latter proves to be the case in director Scott Paulin's pallid
production is not for want of trying. Annika Marks' Lulu contains more
provocative posturing per minute than one generally encounters at the
average “gentlemen's club.” Unfortunately for a play attempting to
explore issues of feminine sexual power and the hegemony of patriarchal
gender constructs, Marks' miscalculated stridency conjures all the eros
of a cold shower. To be fair, even the great Louise Brooks –whose
performance in Georg Pabst's classic 1929 screen adaptation Pandora's Box
continues to reign as the definitive Lulu –would have been lost in the
sophomoric self-parody of a text that calls for a gentleman admirer
(Tasso Feldman, double-cast with Gary Patent) to involuntarily blurt out
an ecstatic “Yes!” every time Lulu bends over. Keith Szarabajka emerges
with his dignity fully intact in a fine turn as the Lulu-obsessed
painter Melville (also played by Robert Trebor). Richard Hoover's
versatile set and lighting designs and Jason Thompson's sci-fi-tinged
video projections lend the proceedings a stylish gloss. Late in the
play, a character refuses to describe Lulu's sexual appeal, adding that
it is “a certain quality which I wouldn't want to ruin by naming it.”
Would that Kazan had taken his own advice. Performs with alternating
casts. (Bill Raden). Atwater Village Theatre, 3269 Casitas Ave., L.A.;
Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 & 7 p.m.; thru March 27,
ensemblestudiotheatrela.org. (323) 644-1929.
MOTHER Mary-Beth Manning's one-woman show about a complex
mother/daughter relationship. Hudson Guild Theatre, 6539 Santa Monica
Blvd., L.A.; Wed., 8 p.m.; thru March 16, plays411.com/mother. (323)
960-5774.
GO MR. KOLPERT What to do when you're settled,
successful and sociopathic? For bored couple Sarah (Lauren Olipra) and
Ralf (Tommy French), the answer is, terrorize Sarah's tee-totaling
co-worker Edith (Kimberly Dilts) and her meathead husband Bastian (J.T.
Arbogast) at a dinner party for four. Sarah and Ralf claim that they've
killed Mr. Kolpert from Accounts and locked him in the trunk. The
enraged Bastian makes good on his claim to kill them all, including his
missus, who may or may not be joking about having an affair with Mr.
Kolpert. Everyone is lying –or “kidding” –in David Gieselmann's comedy
of lethally bad manners, and it's cruel fun once the audience is clued
in to its odd, bright artificiality. Between the blood and fake vomit
are digressions into chaos theory, which hint that there's a method in
Gieselmann's madness. What sticks is his caricature of yuppies as being
so dulled by civility and chardonnay that the only wake-up is a sharp
knife. Director Mike Monroe could scale back Bastian's out-of-the box
rage, but otherwise the cast is terrific, with Arbogast's oily charm,
Olipra's feline callowness and Dilts' nuanced comedic turn as the
perfect wife with her own axe to grind. (Amy Nicholson). Fake Gallery,
4319 Melrose Ave., L.A.; Tues.-Wed., 8:30 p.m.; thru March 9. (323)
644-4946.
NO. SAINTS LANE The setting for Eric Czuleger's dark comedy is a
remote cabin in Scagway, Alaska, where, amidst the battering of a winter
storm, Mer (Meredith Schmidt) and her slow-witted daughter, Dizzy
(Kirsten Kulken), are again on the run from Mer's violent spouse, Hunter
(Adam Navarro), who has just completed his Special Forces duty. This
time, Mer has decided to end the abuse permanently by asking her current
lover, Jay (Joe Calarco), to kill her husband. Initially, things seem
to go as planned, but the celebration is short-lived when the batterer
hobbles in bruised and bloodied, with the intention of reclaiming his
family. Up until then, the play had some legs, albeit wobbly ones, but
most of Act 2 turns in to muddled attempt to explore the volatile
dynamics of love, attraction and repulsion, and even the effects of
torture on the human psyche –little of which is articulated or emerges
from the incoherent structure. The contrived finale is just puzzling.
Cast performances are barely adequate, with Calarco (who does fine job
with the sound design), being the only exception. Steve Julian directs.
(Lovell Estell III). Actors Circle Theatre, 7313 Santa Monica Blvd.,
L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7 p.m.; thru March 6,
coeurage.org/tickets/buy. (323) 882-8043.
NUNSENSATIONS! Nuns go to Las Vegas in Dan Goggin's comedy. Lyric
Theatre, 520 N. La Brea Ave., L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., March 6, 7
p.m.; Sun., March 13, 7 p.m.; thru March 13. (626) 695-8283.
GO 100 DAYS The title of Weiko Lin's two-character
play is derived from an old Taiwanese Buddhist tradition, which dictates
that when the parent of an unmarried child passes away, the child must
find a spouse within 100 days in order for the spirit of the deceased to
transition peacefully. But matrimony is the last thing on the mind of
Will (Eric Martig), who revels in his debauched, hand-to-mouth existence
as a traveling comedian on the college circuit, where there is a steady
supply of booze and female company. But for Miki (Joy Howard) –Will's
love of 15 years removed — life is nothing but painful drudgery, made
all the more so by old emotional wounds, an unhappy marriage,
middle-class monotony and her fear of having children. When Will attends
a funeral service for his mother, he encounters a family friend who
sets in motion a chain of events that eventually brings Miki and Will
together again, allowing another chapter of their relationship to play
out. Notwithstanding a somewhat tedious Act 2 involving an overcooked
night of drinking and reminiscing, there is much that is engaging. Lin's
script bristles with energy and humor, and he invests these characters
with a simple, captivating humanity. The cast delivers high-quality
performances, under Brett Erickson's direction. (Lovell Estell III).
Loft Ensemble, 929 E. Second St., No. 105, L.A.; Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7
p.m.; thru March 20, LOFTensemble.com. (213) 680-0392.
PIPPIN DOMA Theatre Company's dark take on the Stephen Schwartz
musical. MET Theatre, 1089 N. Oxford Ave., L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.;
Sun., 3 p.m.; thru March 13, plays411.com/pippin. (323) 960-5773.
PLAY DATES Sam Wolfson's offbeat love story. Theatre Asylum, 6320
Santa Monica Blvd., L.A.; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7 p.m.; thru April
17. (323) 960-7784.
GO POINT BREAK LIVE! Jaime Keeling's merciless
skewering of the 1991 hyper-action flick starring Keanu Reeves and Gary
Busey is loaded with laughs, as well as surprises, like picking an
audience member to play Reeves' role of Special Agent Johnny Utah. It's
damn good fun, cleverly staged by directors Eve Hars, Thomas Blake and
George Spielvogel. (LE3). Dragonfly, 6510 Santa Monica Blvd., L.A.;
Fri., 8:30 p.m.; Sat., 8 p.m.. (866) 811-4111.GO
PUZZLER In writer-director Padraic Duffy's new play, Niklas Keller
(Mark Bramhall) now in his 70s, sits at a desk somewhere in Germany,
rifling through documents shredded by the East German secret police
years ago. His pin-in-a-haystack search is for a fragment of a
conversation, for a woman, his wife, for a fleeting marriage that
dissolved before his eyes in a world where everybody was being watched
and nothing was certain. His Quixotic search is for certainty, for an
understanding of why said wife disappeared, after that conversation in
which she promised somebody, some man in a trenchcoat, that she would
see him later in that day. It was clandestine rendezvous in which both
man and woman were each incognito (except to each other). After she met
with that man, Keller never saw his wife again. Keller pieces together
that conversation from shreds of tiny slips of paper found in sacks of
shredded documents that the contemporary government is analyzing in
order to understand the now defunct East German mentality. That
conversation shows up again on film, actually a live re-enactment
performed by Jessica Sherman and Jacob Sidney. Her neck is wrapped in a
purple scarf, and the kind of white handbag that was de rigueur for East
German spies. He's in a trenchcoat. It's all very noir. And so
Duffy's romantic thriller follows a kind of Agatha Christie logic, as
revealed in a smokey Fritz Lang flick where nobody is quite who they
claim to be. The flashbacks provide the keenest sense of film noir
that Duffy's play winks at. There's an almost choreographic panache to
the swirl with which Sherman and Sidney move. Less so in the present
tense, where the acting style more cinema verite than noir.
The consequence is a kind of emotional investment in a sentimental love
story, pinched at times by the sly visual jokes on a film style that
Duffy clearly adores. His affection for the form, and for its
characters, is so much more satisfying than a parody. (Steven Leigh
Morris). Sacred Fools Theater, 660 N. Heliotrope Dr., L.A.; Thurs.-Sat.,
8 p.m.; thru Feb. 26. (310) 281-8337.
GO ROOM SERVICE Twenty-two jackals –I mean, actors
–have run up a $1,200 bill at a posh hotel in 1930s Manhattan, and
their producer, Gordon (Derek Manson), is desperate to skip out on the
tab. Fat chance with manager (Phillip William Brock) and corporate heavy
(Charles Dennis) blocking their escape. Since Gordon, the director (Joe
Liss), the playwright (Dustin Eastman) and the rabble are on the 19th
floor, they can't jump. Better options are playing sick, suffering a
hunger strike, faking suicide and dabbling in bank fraud. John Murray
and Allen Boretz's madcap comedy ran for 14 months on Broadway in 1937,
and if the quips and the wise guys (especially Daniel Escobar's cheery
lug) smack of a Marx Brothers movie, that's because it was one in 1938.
Except for Eastman's guileless writer, these starving artists aren't
suffering for the sake of art; their play seems secondary to saving
their own skins. When real talent, a Russian waiter who studied Chekhov
(Elya Baskin, excellent), auditions into their hotel room, his
breathtaking monologue goes ignored. This three-act contraption gets
going in Act 2 after co-directors Bjorn Johnson and Ron Orbach ease the
cast into the comedy's chirpy rhythm. It's a slender pleasure, despite
the directors' argument that it makes us reflect on our current economic
crisis. Better just to enjoy the physical comedy that makes full use of
every corner of Victoria Proffit's suite set; the ensemble leaps over
furniture and gobbles down smuggled food like wild, wise-cracking
animals. (Amy Nicholson). Open Fist Theatre, 6209 Santa Monica Blvd.,
L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; thru March 12, openfist.org.
(323) 882-6912.
GO SHADOW ANTHROPOLOGY: A POST-9/11 COMEDY Ten years
after 9/11, the plight of rural Afghans caught in the crossfire between
U.S. forces and the Taliban remains dire. Playwright-director Rick
Mitchell lays bare the cruel urgency of their circumstances in this
unpolished but potentially compelling production. Utilizing music
(composer Max Kinberg) and puppetry (shadow artist Maria Bodmann), and
depicted with the broad strokes of Brechtian-style theatrics, it begins
with the recruitment by a Blackwater-type firm of a post-grad in
anthropology named Fe (Lymari Nadal). A left-leaning Puerto Rico native,
Fe has the job of interviewing Afghans for the U.S.'s human terrain
project. Touted as a way to win hearts and minds, the project is a
devious attempt to root out insurgents through entrapment. Overseeing
the program is a well-paid defense operative named Evan (David Lee
Garver), an unprincipled superpatriot whose sprawling ego is pumped up
by his coke-and-heroin habit and his steady intake of Viagra. A
practiced slimeball, Evan nonetheless proves no match for the region's
chief warlord, Gulab (Andrew Qamar Johnson), a brazen villain with no
compunction about engineering the murder of a hapless farmer (Ray
Haratian), whose 21-year-old daughter (Claudia Vazquez) he has procured
in marriage for his septuagenarian uncle (Eduardo R. Terry). Despite
roughness around the edges on opening night, the performances are on
track, especially Garver's and Johnson's, whose scenes together zone in
on the ubiquitous venality on both sides. Illustrating Afghan women's
nightmares is another grotesquely funny segment in which Vazquez's
martyred bride undertakes, for her family's survival, to fornicate with
her moribund but still lecherous spouse. Part of Son of Semele's Company
Creation Festival. (Deborah Klugman). Son of Semele, 3301 Beverly
Blvd., L.A.; Through Feb. 25, 8 p.m.,
sonofsemele.org/shows/ccf2011.html…
NEW REVIEW GO THE SONNETEER
Photo by Katie Pomerantz
Nick Salamone's play examines the ways in which homophobia, guilt,
self-delusion and hypocrisy cause the gradual disintegration of the
Cardamones, a first-generation Italian-American family. Louie Cordero
(Paul Haitkin), his younger brother, Michael (Ray Oriel), and their
friend Joey (Ed Martin) go off to serve in World War II. Michael and
Joey, serving in France, secretly become lovers. After the war, Louie
marries his sweetheart, Livvy (Sandra Purpuro), but he also discovers
the relationship between Michael and Joey, and his virulent homophobia
is aroused. Pressured by salty, bossy older sister Vita (Cynthia
Gravinese), who wants to save him for middle-class respectability,
Michael marries a sweetly naïve hospital nurse, Ella (Victoria Hoffman),
whom he'd like to love, but doesn't. Meanwhile, Livvy, desolate over
Louie's death, writes sonnets to relieve her pain. Director Jon Lawrence
Rivera sensitively explores the rich characters and understated
subtleties of Salamone's play, with fine assistance from his able and
faithful cast. Haitkin, in particular, scores as both homophobic Louie
and his scholarly pro-gay son. Davidson/Valentini Theatre, L.A. Gay
& Lesbian Center's Village at Ed Gould Plaza, 1125 N. McCadden
Place, Hlywd.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m., Sun., 7 p.m., through March 13. (323)
860-7300, lagaycenter.org/boxoffice. (Neal Weaver)
GO THE SUNSET LIMITED John Perrin Flynn's top-notch
staging of Cormac McCarthy's 1996 two-character play shows the author is
a gifted dramatist as well as a superb novelist. A life-and-death
struggle emerges in the dingy apartment of an ex-con named Black (Tucker
Smallwood), who has just rescued White (Ron Bottitta) from a suicide
leap off a subway platform. That their names are racial signifiers is
just one of the dynamics McCarthy uses to mine the ironies in this
simple scenario. Black is poor, uneducated and a committed man of faith,
an inner-city Good Samaritan whose redemption came in prison and who
unwaveringly believes in the value of life and God's grace. White is a
hyper-rationalist, a successful university professor and defiant atheist
who is weighted down with crushing despair and hopelessness. It's a
high-stakes intervention where both men state their cases with unbridled
passion and eloquence engendering a back-and-forth shift of empathies,
and one never gets the sense of an immutable moral center or of merely
listening to lectures. McCarthy, who is noted for his sparse dialogue
and powerful imagery, exhibits an uncanny ear for ghetto argot, but just
as nimbly utilizes the idiom of the academic. When, at the end, White
erupts and expresses a weltanschauung of the darkest hue, one is
reminded of Nietzsche's remark about staring into the abyss.
Complementing Flynn's fine direction are the equally superb
performances. (Lovell Estell III). Theatre/Theater, 5041 Pico Blvd.,
L.A.; Sat., 5 p.m.; Sun., 7 p.m.; Mon., 8 p.m.; thru Feb. 28. (323)
422-6361.
UNSCREENED New short plays by Emily Halpern, Leslye Headland, Beth
Schacter, and Susanna Fogel and Joni Lefkowitz., (310) 424-5085. Zephyr
Theater, 7456 Melrose Ave., L.A.; Mon., 8 p.m.; thru March 7. (323)
852-9111.
VIOLATORS WILL BE BIOLATED Casey Smith's solo mime show. Atwater
Village Theatre, 3269 Casitas Ave., L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 10:30 p.m.; thru
March 19, circlextheatre.org. (323) 644-1929.
THE VIOLET HOUR Richard Greenberg's tale of a publisher besieged by
two authors. Lillian Theatre, 1076 N. Lillian Way, L.A.; Thurs.-Sat., 8
p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.; thru March 13, plays411.com/violethour. (323)
960-1054.
WOMEN IN SHORTS World premiere themed evening of theater, starring
Joanna Miles and Louise Davis. Working Stage Theater, 1516 N. Gardner
St., L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.; thru March 20,
brownpapertickets.com/event/143986. (800) 838-3006.
CONTINUING PERFORMANCES IN SMALLER THEATERS SITUATED IN THE VALLEYS
ALMOST, MAINE John Cariani's love story set in a snowy, remote town
in Maine. The Whole Theatre, 5918 Van Nuys Blvd. (behind the Young
Actors Space), Van Nuys; Sat.-Sun., 8 p.m.; thru Feb. 27. (818)
785-7979.
BROTHERS GRIMM'S SHUDDER Zombie Joe's Underground's adaptation of the
Grimm fairy tale “The Story of the Youth Who Went Forth to Learn What
Fear Was.”. ZJU Theater Group, 4850 Lankershim Blvd., North Hollywood;
Fri., 11 p.m.; thru March 25. (818) 202-4120.
GO CAMINO REAL Told that the rarely performed play
was by one of the great 20th-century playwrights, you'd guess the author
was Tom Stoppard before Tennessee Williams. The 40-character limbo-land
puzzler mashes up Don Quixote (Lenny Von Dohlen), Casanova (Tim
Cummings), Lord Byron (Michael Aurelio) and the Hunchback of Notre
Dame's gypsy femme fatale Esmeralda (Kalean Ung) in the town of Camino
Real (pronounced KA-mino REE-al, a la gringo, so as to distinguish it from the country of CaMIno ReAL
just next door). Inside the gates, the hamlet is divided further still
between the Haves, who sip brandy with Gutman (Brian Tichnell) at his
sumptuous hotel, and the Have-Nots, who lay their heads at the fleabag
Ritz Men Only, or worse. Between them, there are enough liars and whores
that a chipper innocent like Kilroy (the fantastic Mike Goodrich), a
former boxing champ with a heart as big as a baby, is humbled within 10
minutes of hitting town. But this isn't about his escape. It's about his
destruction and whether he –and the rest of the captives –will be
able to face their fate when the murderous cleaners (Frank Raducz Jr.
and Murphy Martin) come to sweep them away. The only people not trying
to leave town are the people too damaged to try, a motley crew of
pawnbrokers, pickpockets and a taco salesman whom director Jessica
Kubzansky keeps in motion, each slipping out in time to pop up in
another role. Camino Real is most famous for bombing on
Broadway in 1953 and temporarily tarnishing the careers of Williams and
director Elia Kazan. (There's even a play about the flop, The Really Big Once,
which opened last fall in New York.) Williams' episodic structure lacks
momentum, particularly in the second act during a long scene between
Kilroy and Esmeralda (who needs more heat). But the decades have given
us a better perspective on the questions Williams, then at the anxious
peak of his stage career, was asking himself: Can you still love when
you're old and cynical? Can art survive amid crass capitalism? And is
being a former talent a source of pride or shame? Kubzansky's ensemble
is outstanding, even wringing a knowing chuckle from the faux-naif line,
“Why does disappointment make people unkind?” With all technical
contributions including Silvanne E.B. Park's costumes hitting high
marks, Camino Real is a curiosity that you're not likely to see
again — let alone this well. (Amy Nicholson). Boston Court, 70 N.
Mentor Ave., Pasadena; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; thru March 13,
bostoncourt.com. (626) 683-6883.
THE CAPULETS AND THE MONTAGUES The star-crossed lovers get an
astrological realignment in this comedy by Shakespeare's Spanish
contemporary, Lope de Vega. Seeming to send up Romeo and Juliet,
Lope's play is, in fact, not a skewering of the Bard's tragedy but a
farcical rendering of the same source material, Matteo Bandello's
novella Giulietta e Romeo. Dakin Matthews' thoughtful English
translation centers squarely on the frivolity of lovesickness, the
foolhardiness of relentless family loyalty and the potential for comedy
amidst the murkiness of communication breakdown. For every fatal turn
Shakespeare's text takes, Lope's version veers into the gleefully
ridiculous: Juliet (Nicol Zanzarella-Giacalone) comes on to Romeo (Benny
Wills) like a tigress in heat at the masquerade ball, Capulet (John
Achorn) plans to marry his niece (Kellie Matteson) to ensure an heir
when Juliet is pronounced dead, Romeo stumbles around like a frightened
man-child in Juliet's dark tomb. Though there's promise of great fun in
seeing this underperformed play in a careful translation that pays close
attention to the lighthearted impact of rhyming verse, the production
is in desperate need of directorial attention. In the hands of Anne
McNaughton, the potential for out-and-out comedic outrage and unabashed
farcical tomfoolery is lost. Instead, we get a dramatically lukewarm
retelling of a well-known story, a tone-deaf production begging to be so
much more than a famous tragedy with a jocular spin. The able lead
actors suffer under the tonal ambiguities. As nurse Celia, Etta Devine
carries many of the comic scenes with her excellent timing and
sure-handed delivery. The biggest laughs come when Celia and servant
Marin (Bruce Green) revel in low comedy, mocking the wooing process as
the lead lovers wax poetic. Dean Cameron's costumes are flawless. (Amy
Lyons). New Place Theatre, 10950 Peach Grove St., North Hollywood; Sun.,
2 p.m.; Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 2 & 8 p.m.; thru Feb. 27, Andak.org.
(866) 811-4111.
FIREHOUSE Unlike police officers, who are so often feared or
mistrusted, firefighters almost always engage the appreciation and
respect of the people they serve. Playwright Pedro Antonio Garcia's
message-minded melodrama jump-starts around the community's perceived
betrayal of that covenant, and the pressure brought to bear upon a
firefighter named Perry (Kamar de los Reyes) to make a bogus choice
between loyalty to his unit and loyalty to his Puerto Rican ethnic
group. A 20-year department vet, Perry is on the cusp of retirement when
a crisis erupts at the South Bronx firehouse after a colleague named
Boyle (Gerald Downey) rescues another firefighter from a burning
building but leaves behind a 12-year-old child. Boyle steadfastly
maintains he didn't see the girl for the smoke, but his credibility is
open to question –in no small part because of his personal history as a
former cop who was tried and acquitted for shooting an unarmed
civilian. Whereas the community, represented here by Perry's fiancee,
Aida (Jossara Jinaro), a criminal defense attorney, is up in arms, most
of Boyle's buddies give him the benefit of the doubt and pressure Perry
to do the same. Garcia gleaned aspects of his story from real-life
headlines in this effort to offer up an intrepid examination of how our
native prejudices cloud our judgment. Too often, however, the characters
seem mere profanity-riddled mouthpieces for one side or another's point
of view, a problem exacerbated by Bryan Rasmussen's overheated
direction. Most discrepant is Jinaro's counselor-at-law, unconvincing as
a perspicacious professional not only by virtue of her mini-skirted and
otherwise revealing attire but in her strident insistence that Perry
take her side for personal reasons rather than principled ones. (Deborah
Klugman). Whitefire Theater, 13500 Ventura Blvd., Sherman Oaks; Fri., 8
p.m.; thru April 29, theatermania.com. (323) 822-7898.
IT'S JUST SEX Jeff Gould's comedy takes the underpinnings of sexual
fantasy, fidelity and money and puts all of those nuances onstage in a
contemporary comedy about three married couples. The wife-swapping plot
is straight out of Hugh Hefner's pad, circa 1975. That the play
resonates today, in the ashes of the sexual revolution, is one
indication of how little has changed, despite how much has changed.
(Steven Leigh Morris). Two Roads Theater, 4348 Tujunga Ave., Studio
City; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7:30 p.m.. (818) 762-2272.
LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS Man-eating-plant musical, book and lyrics by
Howard Ashman, music by Alan Menken. Center Stage Theatre, 8463 Sierra
Ave., Fontana; Fri., 7:30 p.m.; Sat., 7 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; thru March
6. (909) 429-7469.
THE MAIDEN'S PRAYER Nicky Silver's look at the randomness of love.
Raven Playhouse, 5233 Lankershim Blvd., North Hollywood; Fri.-Sun., 8
p.m.; thru Feb. 27. (800) 681-5150.
MELODRAMA Adam Neubauer's absurd comedy about a man's quest to find
his father's murderer. ZJU Theater Group, 4850 Lankershim Blvd., North
Hollywood; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; thru March 12. (818) 202-4120.
A MIXED TAPE Eric Edwards' retrospective of a lonely guy's love life.
Playhouse West Repertory Theater, 10634 Magnolia Blvd., North
Hollywood; Sun., 8 p.m.; thru March 27, amixedtape.com. (818) 332-3101.
NERVE Adam Szymkowicz's dark comedy set on a couple's first date.
Chance Theatre, 5552 E. La Palma Ave., Anaheim; Thurs.-Fri., 8 p.m.;
Sat., 3 & 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; thru Feb. 27. (714) 777-3033.
NEW EYES Yafit Josephson gives an accomplished performance in her
solo show about a Jewish actress facing down Hollywood's cultural
stereotypes. It's marred only by a poorly designed slideshow. Josephson
slips easily into various personae, combining characters with
caricatures to good comedic effect. The opening has her switching from a
formidable military officer to her nervous young self on her first day
of compulsory military training in the Israeli army. Highlights include a
hilarious mime sequence where she uncomprehendingly attempts yoga and
another scene where she gives a goofy impression of a macho guy in an
Israeli nightclub. Josephson's tall, slender build, piercing eyes and
chiseled face lend her a commanding presence, but it's her prominent
proboscis that relegates her to the usual gamut of villainous roles,
from terrorist to evil witch –“And no, they didn't have to use a fake
nose,” she jokes. Her adult journey takes her from the New World back to
Israel, where she touches base with her culture, returning to Hollywood
with newfound strength of character. Beneath the comedy lies a serious
undercurrent stemming from the ongoing war in the Middle East: Land
equals identity. (Pauline Adamek). Whitefire Theater, 13500 Ventura
Blvd., Sherman Oaks; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.; thru March 12.
(323) 960-7712.
OEDIPUS THE TYRANT The Porters of Hellsgate present a new translation
of Sophocles' classic, translated by Jamey Hecht. Sherry Theatre, 11052
Magnolia Blvd., North Hollywood; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; thru
March 13, brownpapertickets.com/event/149704. (818) 325-2055.
NEW REVIEW THE REVENANTS Not only do the
protagonists in this zombie play break the age-old cautionary rule (in
zombie-prone regions) of avoiding the basement at all costs, but they
manage to hunker down below ground with two members of the rapidly
multiplying undead population. Thus, a long and tediously unfolding
chain of events is set in motion by characters entirely lacking sound
decision-making skills. All of this stupidity would be fine were it a
remotely intelligent commentary on human folly, but nothing in Scott T.
Barsotti's text resembles satire or keen irony. Instead, we witness the
agonizingly uninteresting plight of Gary (Carl Bradley Anderson) and
Karen (Anne Westcott), a pair of old friends whose respective spouses,
Molly (Lara Fisher) and Joseph (Rafael Zubizarreta Jr.), have turned
zombie. While the uninfected couple make feeble attempts to devise a
plan of action, they chain Molly and Joseph to the wall. For the play's
duration, Molly and Joseph halfheartedly strain against their bindings
while Gary and Karen talk about old times, argue over the extent to
which their spouses are lost and question their marriages. There isn't a
nail-biting moment in sight here; the constant presence of the zombies
creates a tolerance factor that renders them about as threatening as a
pair of uncouth houseguests unaware of the late hour. Because Gary and
Karen are entirely unremarkable characters, the stakes are further
purged. If the goal is to make us root for the zombies (think George
Romero's smirk at rabid consumerism in the shopping-mall setting of Dawn
of the Dead), then the failure is one of narrative scope: Focusing on
four characters in a static setting is no way to build an audience of
gleeful zombie sympathizers. Whitmore-Lindley Theatre Center, 11006
Magnolia Blvd., N. Hlywd.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m., through March 19. thevisceralcompany.com. (Amy Lyons)
REWIND SkyPilot Theatre Company's late-night series of one-acts, on
everything from “how to get fired from a job” to “how to survive a
zombie attack.”. Victory Theatre Center, 3326 W. Victory Blvd., Burbank;
Fri.-Sat., 11 p.m.; thru March 12, skypilottheatre.com. (800) 838-3006.
SCHMUTZIGEN DEUTSCHE KABARETT This latest, late-night creation from
sardonic, surrealist director-choreographer Amanda Marquardt is so
straightforward and simple in its concept and execution that it's a
wonder no one thought of it before. Take the Kander & Ebb musical
classic Cabaret, jettison the treacly and preachy Joe Masteroff book,
and stage the results as a brisk and breezy, melodrama-free evening of
simulated Weimar nightclub entertainment. The schmutzigen is
provided by the indecently flamboyant Luke Wright, who, from opener
“Willkommen” through his solo on “I Don't Care Much” to the show's
finale, vamps his way through an endless string of double entendres to
stake a creditable claim to the role of MC that made Broadway stars of
Joel Grey and Alan Cumming. Marquardt herself appears as Sally Bowles
(replete with Liza-like false eyelashes), displaying an appealing set of
pipes on such signature numbers as “Don't Tell Mama,” “Cabaret” and
“Mein Herr.” Wright returns (wearing little more than an uncredited but
campy pair of tuxedo briefs) with chorines Skye Noel (also credited as
dance captain and co-choreographer) and Eva Ganelis, as the trio strut
their comic stuff in “Two Ladies.” But, you might ask, if there's no
book, what about the musical's politics –and what does that have to do
with us? Relax. Marquardt gets in her licks, and puts the Deutsche
Kabarett, political-satire bite back into Cabaret with “High
Chancellor,” a hilarious, show-stealing strip number, with Jonica
Patella in Hitler drag, bumping, grinding and goose-stepping to the Nazi
march “Erika.” (Bill Raden). ZJU Theater Group, 4850 Lankershim Blvd.,
North Hollywood; Sat., 11 p.m.; Fri., 11 p.m.; thru April 22. (818)
202-4120.
STEALING BUFFALO Profanity, perversion and a pig iron do not a Mamet
play make. While the “master” is known for his liberal use of the
f-word, the c-word and other unmentionables, his machine-gun dialogue
generally contains an undercurrent of danger, social commentary and
revelation of character. Many Mamet imitators fail to grasp this
subtext, and, like Vern Urich and Craig Ricci Shaynak, create pieces
that superficially resemble Mamet's patterns but lack his depth. In this
take on American Buffalo, Jed (Urich) enters like Teach from the original, uttering a string of f-bombs followed by the word Mamet instead of Ruthie.
He has again failed to get the rights to put on his favorite play in
Los Angeles. Jed's rotund friend Stu (Shaynak), also an actor, is having
troubles of his own but with women. After a lengthy lecture by Jed on
“bangin' broads” (a phrase that becomes noisome from repetition), the
two concoct a scheme to “steal” Mamet's work. A strange attempt to fuse
Mamet-speak and Swingers, this unending string of one-liners
quickly ventures into tedium, with its numerous tangents, such as a
listing of all the celebrities whose sign is Sagittarius, replacing an
actual story. The pizza box-laden set (presumably an homage to Mamet's
junk shop) lacks any sense of design, and the literal projections only
elongate the tangential riffs on pop culture, which grind the action to a
halt. While the inspiration for the piece is Urich's own experience,
the result lacks the stakes and tension to turn documentary into drama.
(Mayank Keshaviah). Lonny Chapman Group Repertory Theatre, 10900 Burbank
Blvd., North Hollywood; Sat., 5 p.m.; Sun., 6 p.m.; thru March 6,
thegrouprep.com. (818) 700-4878.
TOPDOG/UNDERDOG Suzan-Lori Parks' Pulitzer Prize winner about two
African-American brothers. Fremont Centre Theatre, 1000 Fremont Ave.,
South Pasadena; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; thru Feb. 26. (866) 811-4111.
THE TRIP TO BOUNTIFUL Horton Foote's nostalgia story. Lonny Chapman
Group Repertory Theatre, 10900 Burbank Blvd., North Hollywood;
Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; thru March 6. (818) 700-4878.
WEIRD ON TOP Improvisational comedy by Danielle Cintron, Tiffany
Cole, Mason Hallberg, Kerr Seth Lordygan, Sarah McCann and Alex Sanborn.
Eclectic Company Theatre, 5312 Laurel Canyon Blvd., Valley Village;
Tues., March 1, 8 p.m.; Thurs., April 21, 8 p.m.; Thurs., May 12, 8
p.m.; Thurs., June 9, 8 p.m.; Sun., July 17, 8 p.m.; Thurs., Aug. 18, 8
p.m.. (818) 508-3003.
WOUNDED Amy Tofte's historical narrative inspired by the Wounded Knee
massacre. CalArts, Walt Disney Modular Theater (MOD), 24700 McBean
Parkway, Valencia; Through Feb. 26, 8 p.m.,
https://calarts.edu/calendar…
CONTINUING PERFORMANCES IN SMALLER THEATERS SITUATED ON THE WESTSIDE AND IN BEACH TOWNS
GO ADDING MACHINE: A MUSICAL In Joshua Schmidt and
Jason Loewith's adaptation of Elmer Rice's 1923 satire of accountants
slaving for The Man in cubicles, a shlub named Zero (Clifford Morts, in a
marvelously cantakerous turn reminiscent of the late Carroll O'Connor)
eagerly awaits some reward on the 25th anniversary of his hiring.
Instead, he's fired, having been replaced by an adding machine. Rice's
play was written before the days of pensions and labor unions and the
kinds of post War labor protections that, incidentally, accompanied the
most robust economic boom this country has every experienced. It was
also written five years before the Great Depression. It now arrives as
almost all those protections have been swept away, and our economy
teeters precariously once more – cursed by economic conditions and
employment practices that in so many ways, resemble those of 1923. Yet
neither the play nor this musical adaptation is primarily about
economics, but rather about metaphysics, which would explain director
Ron Sossi's fascination with it. The operatic, often dissonant and
percussive music has almost no melody, which is exactly right in a story
that drives a spike through the heart of sentimentality and romance.
Zero's wife is a hideous, jealous, nagging monstrosity – that would be
the character, not Kelly Lester's spirited interpretation that contains
echos of Angela Lansbury. The colleague who loved Zero unrequitedly (the
marvelous Christine Horn) joins him in the after-life. For the way God
really works, and the way dead souls are recycled, you have to see the
show. Sossi directs a strong production, though with minimal silk drops
representing the afterlife, it didn't look much different from the drab
life herein. That minimalism does subvert the moral joke. Patrick
Kenny's musical direction strikes nice balances between the onstage band
and the singers. The actors just need to settle in and push out the fun
they're already having. (Steven Leigh Morris). Odyssey Theatre, 2055 S.
Sepulveda Blvd., L.A.; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; Sun., Feb.
27, 7 p.m.; thru March 13. (310) 477-2055.
AFTERMATH Elliot Shoenman's comedic drama studies a widow named Julie
(Annie Potts), and her almost adult children, still struggling to come
to terms with her husband's suicide three years previously. More like an
emotionally raw drama with a sprinkling of good laughs, Shoenman's play
unfolds like a typical 1950s kitchen sink drama, the strip-mining kind
where secrets and recriminations are laid bare and the obligatory
catharsis ensues. This notion is visually supported by co-producer and
set designer Gary Guidinger's realistic kitchen-and teenager-bedroom
set. What isn't necessary is the slide show across the back flats
repeatedly displaying the pathetically inadequate suicide note Julie was
left with, and which also illustrates her children's passage to
adulthood. Everyone in the capable cast gets at least one monologue,
from the hostile son, Eric (Daniel Taylor), to the mild-tempered
daughter, Natalie (Meredith Bishop), to their father's former best
friend and Mom's possible new boyfriend, Chuck (Michael Mantell). With
her pixie haircut and thick N.Y. accent, Potts wavers from droll to
distraught, only sometimes stridently overcompensating for first-night
nerves and an ensemble performance that occasionally seemed to lose its
rhythm. At its best, the incisive dialogue volleys back and forth like
an enthralling game of tennis. Mark L. Taylor directs this slice of
dysfunction well. (Pauline Adamek). Odyssey Theatre, 2055 S. Sepulveda
Blvd., L.A.; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; thru March 13. (310)
477-2055.
GO CYRANO DE BERGERAC Director Rae Allen revels in
the equal measure of might assigned to pen and sword in Edmond Rostand's
word-centric, swashbuckling classic. Allen's sure hand in guiding the
text along a well-paced tragicomic trajectory begins with her decision
to slash the first scene significantly, depositing the legendary lead
character and his protruding nose onstage within a few minutes of the
outset. John Colella tackles the titular role with an overabundance of
seething anger and outward frustration at Cyrano's self-described
ugliness, neglecting at times the character's inherent charm, a crucial
hinge upon which the play's front door hangs: We have to fall in love
with Cyrano if we are to feel the requisite frustration over Roxanne's
(an arresting Olivia D'Abo) ill-informed choice of the doltish but
adorable Christian (a sufficiently hapless Toby Moore) rather than her
eloquent, adoring cousin. Romantic flatness aside, Colella successfully
thrusts home poetic parlance, bringing an effortlessness of speech to
the verbose role. Jonathan Redding does smarmy to perfection as the
pining Comte De Guiche, and Mark Rimer bumbles beautifully as Raggeneau.
Swordplay and balcony climbing are skillfully staged in the small
space. (Amy Lyons). Ruskin Group Theater, 3000 Airport Dr., Santa
Monica; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; thru Feb. 26. (310) 397-3244.
DECIDER CRE Outreach presents a Changing Perceptions/Theatre by the
Blind production by Colin Simson, performed by the only entirely blind
theater troupe in America. Magicopolis, 1418 Fourth St., Santa Monica;
Thurs., 8 p.m.; thru March 10, creoutreach.org/decider. (310) 902-8220.
FIVE UNEASY PIECES Todd Waring's study of diverse characters,
including an elderly Southern woman, an Aussie art teacher, and a French
singer. Santa Monica Playhouse, 1211 Fourth St., Santa Monica;
Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7:30 p.m.; thru Feb. 27, plays411.com/five.
(323) 960-5521.
Free Are special talents a burden or a blessing? Set in a fantastical
backwoods America, Barbara Lindsay's lightweight comedy concerns the
woes of an itinerant performer named Free (Michael Earl Reid), whose
uncanny ability to levitate and then float in the air does little to
make him happy. Tired of being gawked at, he declares his intention to
chuck the carny life and get a job making beds at a seedy California
motel. The an-nouncement dismays his manager and longtime pal, Stoney
(Greg Albanese) — not surprisingly, since Stoney's income depends on
his friend's mind-bending forte. Ultimately rescued by several comedic
performances, the play is slow getting started, in part because Free's
bellyaching persona is so simplistically crafted at the top, and also
because it's never clear what has triggered his crisis. Directed by
Wendy Worthington, the production eventually comes alive around Dagney
Kerr's sidesplitting portrayal of Althea, an obsessive fan who perceives
the wussy Free as the source of her own salvation. Donaco Smyth is
likewise extremely funny as Althea's hulking husband with the
disposition of a lamb. Also notewor-thy are McPherson as the hotel
housekeeper who inspires Free's decision to change his life, and
Albanese as a wannabe slick operator who turns out to really have a
heart. (Deborah Klugman). [Inside] the Ford, 2580 Cahuenga Blvd. E.,
L.A.; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 & 7 p.m.; thru Feb. 27. (323)
461-3673.
GO HOBOKEN TO HOLLYWOOD: A JOURNEY THROUGH THE GREAT
AMERICAN SONGBOOK The big-band show in this musical (book by Luca
Ellis, Paul Litteral and Jeremy Aldridge) is staged as a
behind-the-scenes live taping of a late-1960s television special with a
star identified in the program only as “The Crooner.” James Thompson's
authentic set comes with sound booth, TV cameras, microphones, lighting,
a spacious bandstand and stage, overhead video screens and neon
applause signs. Adding to the realism is lots of backstage banter,
numerous gaffes, miscues and retakes, and some well-placed comedy and
drama played out between director Dwight (Al Bernstein) and his
overworked and underappreciated assistant Andy (Pat Towne). There are
also cheeky commercial breaks for Shmimex watches and the all-new Ford
Mustang. Musical director Litteral and his nattily dressed 12-member
band (Jessica Olson's costumes are entirely on cue) combine into a
flawless, robust performance redolent of the best of Ellington or Basie.
Luca Ellis is a knockout from start to finish as the Crooner. How good
is he? If you close your eyes while he sings familiar tunes such as
“That's Life,” “New York, New York” and “Fly Me to the Moon,” you'd
swear the Chairman himself had come back for one last encore. As
masterfully woven together by director Aldridge, the material is so good
that the applause signs aren't really needed. (Lovell Estell III).
Edgemar Center for the Arts, 2437 Main St., Santa Monica; Sat., 8 p.m.;
Sun., 3 p.m.; Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 3 p.m.; thru March 27. (310) 399-3666.
NEW REVIEW GO THE HYACINTH MACAW An
unabridged dictionary can be a dangerous thing, particularly when it's
wielded with the playfully pleonastic dexterity of a stage poet like Mac
Wellman. Like a deranged Dr. Seuss for adults, Wellman marries a love
of wordplay with a mischievously subversive wit that entertains even as
it teases out the unspeakable fears festering at the fringes of American
complacency. In director Jim Martin's handsomely mounted production of
Wellman's 1994 fractured fairy tale, the playwright zeros in on our
gullible faith in the empty, “pneumatic” bromides and hackneyed romantic
tropes that form the fragile mythologies from which we make sense of a
larger, unknowable reality. In the case of the Moredent family of Bug
River, all of their assumptions about their very identities are upended
with the arrival of Mister William Hard (Jerry Prell), “a doctor of
divinity, equidistance and gradualist” from “the land of evening,” who
announces that they are all orphans. It seems the father, Ray (Craig
Anton) is an “inauthentic duplicate” of Hard and the two must trade
places to redress the error. Blithely accepting the news, Ray packs his
bag and departs, freeing wife Dora (Lysa Fox) to run off with an
itinerant vagabond (Simon Brooke), while daughter Susannah (Anna Steers)
remains behind to help Hard bury the eerily glowing remains of the
dying moon. While Martin's staging underscores the text's whimsical
non-sense at the expense of its more mordant phenomenological musings,
Cristina Bejarano's imaginative, angular set and Nick Davidson's
hauntingly evocative lights eloquently support Wellman's off-kilter
cosmos. Royal Theater aboard the Queen Mary, 1126 Queens Hwy., Long
Beach; Wed.-Sat., 8 p.m., through March 12. (562) 985-5526, calrep.org. A California Repertory production. (Bill Raden)
GO JULIA Playwright Vince Melocchi's sweet,
melancholy drama artfully makes the point that, of all the sorrows,
nothing beats the sadness of being haunted by guilt over a long-ago
romantic misdeed. Lou (Richard Fancy), a frail old man who clearly does
not have too much sand left in the hourglass, shambles into a run-down
Pittsburgh coffeehouse, ostensibly to witness the razing of the local
department store where he worked some 50 years ago. However, his real
purpose in returning to the scene is an attempted reconciliation with
his long-lost sweetheart, Julia, whom he feels guilty for spurning many
years ago. However, Julia (Roses Prichard), who now has Alzheimer's
disease, doesn't even remember her own son, Steve (Keith Stevenson).
Melocchi's writing is deceptively top-heavy with conversations that at
first appear pointless but gradually coalesce to construct the
psychological underpinnings of strikingly plausible blue-collar
characters. In director Guillermo Cienfuegos' mostly subtle and
emotionally nuanced production, the pacing could stand some amping up,
but the feeling of reality encompassed by the interactions and
confrontations is haunting at times. In his turn as the gruff, cranky
Lou, Fancy builds on our expectation that the character is a feeble old
coot, gradually shifting him into a figure whose regret and rage are all
too understandable. Prichard is unusually believable as the tragically
blank Julia. Dramatically vivid work also is offered by Stevenson's
glum, disappointed Steve and by Haskell Vaughn Anderson III, as a family
friend who remembers all the parties when they were young. (Paul
Birchall). Pacific Resident Theatre, 703 Venice Blvd., Venice;
Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.; thru Feb. 27. (310) 822-8392.
KISS ME, KATE The Relevant Stage presents Cole Porter's
play-within-a-play musical romcom. Warner Grand Theatre, 478 W. Sixth
St., San Pedro; Thurs.-Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 2:30 & 8 p.m.; Sun., 2:30
& 7 p.m.; thru Feb. 27. (800) 838-3006.
NEW REVIEW GO LOCKED AND LOADED
Photo by Cydne Moore
Ever hear the joke about the two guys with terminal brain tumors who
decide to beat death to the punch? A Jew and a WASP dress up in tuxes,
rent a presidential suite stocked with their favorite booze and call
some hookers to help them go orgasmic into that good night. OK, so the
subject matter and setup of, and even the quietly heartbreaking
backstories in, actor-playwright Todd Susman's play are a little
derivative — Leaving Las Vegas and Marsha Norman's play 'Night, Mother
spring to mind — but some very clever writing and smart performances
make this West Coast premiere much funnier and more mystical than the
approach its predecessors took. Particularly interesting is Susman's
deliberate trafficking in stereotypes. Old-monied Dickie Rice (Andrew
Parks) is haughty as he hurls three strikes in quick succession at an
African-American hooker, sniffing, “Do you know who I am?” and referring
to her “Aunt Jemima” style of speaking. Sad-clown sitcom writer Irwin
Schimmel (Paul Linke) turns his poison pen on himself and his Jewish
heritage, and Catorce Martinez's (Terasa Sciortino) inability to
understand English subtleties is the source of many jokes. But in
electing Princess Lay-Ya (a very sharp Sandra Thigpen) queen pin, Susman
gives the underdog the upper hand, which Lay-Ya uses to force the
superficialities aside to reveal the very real, raw pain coursing
beneath. After such deep diving, the resurface at play's end is a little
easy; nevertheless, the whole shebang is a much more entertaining
evening than the premise portends. Chris DeCarlo directs. Santa Monica
Playhouse, 1211 Fourth St., Santa Monica; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m., Sun., 3:30
p.m., through April 16. (310) 394-9779. (Rebecca Haithcoat)
A NIGHT AT THE OSCARS Peter Quilter's comedy about a thespian couple
preparing to sing at the Academy Awards. Malibu Stage Company, 29243
Pacific Coast Hwy., Malibu; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 5 p.m.; thru March
20, brownpapertickets.com. (310) 589-1998.
GO PARADISE PARK A profoundly despondent fellow
(Kenneth Rudnicki) wanders into an amusement park for distraction from
his agony. Inside, he slips into a fantasia of scenes –including his
own romance with a young woman (Reha Zemani) from the Midwest, igniting a
bundle of neuroses that keeps them estranged; a
ventriloquist/philosopher (Ann Stocking) and his bifurcated dummy (David
E. Frank); a tourist couple (Bo Roberts and Cynthia Mance) at the end
of the tether that's barely holding their marriage together; their irate
young daughter (KC Wright) who yearns, in vain, for an effete Cuban
(Tim Orona); a psychotic pizza-delivery boy (Jeff Atik); a wandering
violinist (Lena Kouyoumdjian); a circus clown (Troy Dunn); and, in a
directorial flourish, a guy in a chicken costume. Charles Mee's comedy
is like a sonnet with a couple of repeated motifs: distraction, love and
the general feeling of being cast adrift in cultural waters that are
partly enchanting, partly evaporating, and partly polluted by the refuse
of our ancestors, of our families, of our determination to follow
impulses we barely comprehend, and to wind up unutterably lost. He's one
of this company's favorite scribes, and mine, for the way in which,
with the literary touch of a feather, he conjures primal truths of what
keeps us at odds with ourselves and with each other, keeps us yearning
for the unattainable. And though there's obviously psychology at work,
the driving energies of the language and of the drama are subconscious,
cultural and historical currents. Production designer Charles Duncombe
anchors his platform set with a wading pool stage center, in which sits
an alligator, and he decorates it above with strings of festival lights.
Josephine Poinsot's costumes are thoroughly whimsical with primary
colors and a feel for an America of the late 1950s — with the possible
exception of the married couple's matching shorts and T-shirts that
read, “Kiss my ass, I'm on vacation.” Director Frederique Michel stages
the poetical riffs of text in her typically arch style, and it serves
the play almost perfectly, except for the pizza-delivery scene, where
the choreography distracts from the psychosis that lies at the core.
Even so, I found the evening to be indescribably affecting, tapping
emotions that lurk beneath the machinery of reason. This is the last
production to be staged at this back-alley venue in Santa Monica, where
the company has been putting on plays for 15 years. The ventriloquist's
lines couldn't have been more ironic and true: “Then, because the
theater is the art form that deals above all others in human
relationships, then theater is the art, par excellence, in which we
discover what it is to be human and what is possible for humans to be
… that theater, properly conceived, is not an escape either but a
flight to reality, a rehearsal for life itself, a rehearsal of these
human relationships of which the most essential, the relationship that
defines most vividly who we are and that makes our lives possible, is
love.” (Steven Leigh Morris). Track 16 Gallery, 2525 Michigan Ave., C1,
Santa Monica; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; thru March 13,
citygargage.org. (310) 319-9939.
STANLEY ANN: THE UNLIKELY STORY OF BARACK OBAMA'S MOTHER Workshop
production of Ann Noble's one-woman play, presented by Missyng Pictures,
in cooperation with the Los Angeles Theater Ensemble and Powerhouse
Theatre Company. Powerhouse Theatre, 3116 Second St., Santa Monica;
Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.; thru March 6, latensemble.com. (310)
396-3680.
NEW REVIEW TUCUMCARI
Photo by Ed Krieger
Riley Steiner's bittersweet country tale transports us to a 1930s
motor-court homestead along a remote, dusty New Mexico stretch of Route
66. For young bride Lillian (Ciera Parrack), marriage means embarking
upon a new life and exploring the vast world beyond her Albuquerque
farm. But on her honeymoon she is dismayed to learn that her new
husband, Lyle (Logan Fahey), has a different future all worked out for
them — running the motel he won in a card game. Lil makes the most of
her lot and all is going well until a handsome traveler passes through
their tiny town of Tucumcari. Meaningful looks exchanged between Lil and
Cade (Robert W. Evans) suggest a heated past. When Cade stays on to
help Lyle build a porch, Lil finds her affections are divided. Pretty as
a picture, Parrack is excellent as the stubborn and feisty heroine,
conveying a deep and conflicted longing for the life she always dreamed
of having. As quiet and slow as a country mile, Steiner leaves plenty of
space between the spoken words, and director Doug Traer preserves the
languid rural pace of this sweet and simple life. While it's enjoyable
to watch the porch taking shape, the lean story merely plods along.
Upstage, behind a scrim, a trio of country singers (Aric Leavitt, Rachel
Kiser and Pat Whiteman Astor) yodel and harmonize exquisitely to the
strains of banjo, guitar and fiddle, singing cowboy and coyote tunes.
Theatre 40 at the Reuben Cordova Theater, 241 Moreno Drive, Beverly
Hills (on the Beverly Hills High School campus); Wed.-Sat., 8 p.m.,
Sun., 2 p.m., through Feb. 27. (310) 364-0535. (Pauline Adamek)
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