L.A. Tool & Die: Live!

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Raunch and giddy humor are liberally dished out in writer-director Sean Abley's outrageous sendup of gay porn films. The 1979 Joe Gage opus "L.A. Tool & Die" is sometimes referred to as a "classic," a term that seems odd in the context of such an exploitative genre. Abley's shoestring-budget late-night attraction is clearly targeted to gay-male viewers in pursuit of down-and-dirty fun, who can hoot to their heart's content at gleefully bawdy lowbrow antics.

Though this parody is billed as the "Airplane!" of gay porn, there's little in the fitfully amusing goings-on to suggest the brilliance of that iconic film spoof. Throughout a frantically paced 60 minutes, Abley relentlessly slings dicey jokes and images at us, including full-frontal nudity and simulated sex scenes. Yet too many of the sketchlike episodes—such as a puzzling musical vignette, led by a scruffy-faced drag queen—seem more arbitrarily silly than pointedly satiric. Perhaps it helps to be familiar with the original film, but at the reviewed performance, the audience reaction was a mixed bag. Much like the genre being kidded, there's a repetitive feel to the proceedings that ultimately becomes—pardon the expression—anticlimactic.

What this premiere staging has going for it is a game and spirited ensemble of farceurs, headed by Thomas Colby-Dog as the listless auto mechanic Hank, a man's-man in every sense of the word, and Jon Gale as Wiley, the shy cowpoke who stirs up Hank's libido, sending the love-struck grease monkey on a cross-country odyssey to follow his erotic dream. They're backed up by the audacious efforts of Michael Vaccaro, Paul A. Brown, James Jaeger, Tim Hearl, Nathaniel Mathis, and Kevin Held, whose over-the-top (or bottom, as it were) portrayals in multiple roles are energetic and committed. The wisp of a plot seems entirely beside the point. Octogenarian grannies, born-again Christians, and "Dr." Laura Schlessinger are advised to stay away. Everyone else can decide whether this might be their cup of Budweiser-on-tap.

Presented by Dark Blue Theatricals with and at the Celebration Theatre, 7051-B Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood. July 30–Sept. 11. Fri.–Sat., 10:30 p.m. (323) 957-1884. www.celebrationtheatre.com.