How do you critique the inherent evils of capitalist America after co-starring in the action blockbuster Under Siege II? By acknowledging your own hypocrisy, of course. Eric Bogosian has never claimed to be better than any of us. In fact he'd probably admit he's worse. And he was at his very worst here—showing us his most greedy, most selfish, most frightened face in one speed-freak-paced monologue after another. We, of course, watched with rapt excitement and wincing pain because, ultimately, it's still our own ugly reflection up there. The unsubtle points that this angry, self-deprecating, hilariously heteroglossic mouthpiece has been making about himself and his country since the 1980s still reverberate, some more than ever.
Unlike past shows (Drinking in America, Pounding Nails in the Floor With My Forehead, and Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll), which offered a parade of contemporary faces—or rather voices—that added up to a frightening mosaic of prejudice, panic, and penury, this 90-minute "worst of" compilation laid out Bogosian's thesis in the simplest terms: The pursuit of wealth is the path to all evil, but what are you gonna do? And that question was in earnest: What are you gonna do? A short survey of past hits—the crazed dealer in "Red," the desperate homeless philosopher in "Bottleman," the paranoid painter in "Artist"—were combined with newer material to get right to the heart of the matter. (Apparently Bogosian is going to be taking a break from performing for a while to concentrate on writing and has decided to make one last howl—or plea—before letting his mic rest.)
The effect of this distillation was bracing but also occasionally disappointing. We miss some of the other, less strident voices in this best-of album onstage. In the past, Bogosian was often his most brilliant at his most tangential, not when he was pounding the nail right on the head. Nevertheless, when the material turned to celebrity, status, and to Bogosian himself, it was clear that there's still no one onstage today as honestly personal and critically political as this performer. The best piece of the night segued from a pathetically scraping audition for a bit part in some crappy film into a rant about how Bogosian (not a character, but the man himself) dreams of one day being among the Hollywood pantheon, above all the pathetic struggles of the lesser mortals. The audience groaned, tittered, squirmed. It was the stuff that hit closest to home. It wasn't pretty—but it was beautiful that Bogosian is still willing to get that naked.
Director Jo Bonney, Bogosian's longtime collaborator who crafted this piece, deserves a lot of credit for keeping the spotlight of this show decidedly on the man, his mic, his chair. That's all we need. Here's hoping Bogosian doesn't put down that mic for too long. We will always need his particular brand of laughter and pain.
"The Worst of Eric Bogosian," presented by UCLA Performing Arts at UCLA's Freud Playhouse, Westwood. Wed.-Sat. 8 p.m. Closed. $35. (310) 825-2101.
