Photo Source: Salvator Xuereb
The production immediately establishes an off-kilter tone, then takes its time cluing in the audience to precisely what's transpiring and why. In a dingy public restroom, a distraught and disheveled woman, Emily (Alexandra Hoover) puffs on a cigarette. A bloodied male lies on the floor—presumably dead—as another man, Don (Michael Friedman), bursts in and tries to get a rational explanation out of Emily. We learn that Emily has killed the man, and she threatens to do the same to Don. The source of her rage is her husband having left her for another woman. She seems determined to take out her bitterness and grief on everyone. In subsequent scenes, Emily joins a lonely-hearts self-help group, meets a mysterious man (Dominic Rains) who is either a male fairy godmother or the world's slickest seducer, and ultimately has a showdown with her philandering spouse (Salvator Xuereb) and his extramarital lover (Kate Huffman).
Director David Fofi maintains a tongue-in-cheek tone that flirts with crossing over into bleaker dramatic territory. Yet Poe's characters and story repeatedly opt for the jocular over the profound. It seems the playwright wants to convey a meaningful statement about how we commit—or fail to commit—to our relationships and how we sabotage our own happiness. Yet the play's disparate episodes aren't sufficiently coherent, and the proceedings come across as more madcap than ironic. Having the characters launch into familiar pop songs on a few occasions feels like a clichéd device often used in popular films, adding to the impression this play is more of a put-on than an attempt at probing social commentary.
Nonetheless, the performers do creditable work, particularly Hoover as the hapless antiheroine, Rains as the wolf in sheep's clothing, and Christopher Game as a salacious self-help guru with a personal agenda. The not-quite-realistic dimension where the story unfolds is imaginatively conveyed by Joel Daavid and Adam Haas Hunter's edgy scenic design and Matt Richter's austere lighting.
Presented by and at the Elephant Space, 6322 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood. Sept. 23-Oct. 29. Thu.-Sat., 8 p.m. (877) 369-9112. www.elephanttheatrecompany.com.
