Broadsword: A Heavy Metal Play

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Photo Source: Gaalan Michaelson and Lauren Pasternack
The enigmatic mysticism of music, the firm ties of friendship, and a devil of a story yield this production—in part conjuring a tale told around a campfire and in part ruminating on how deeply loyalty can run. Marco Ramirez's writing is a touch expository but creates an intriguing evening with characters who seem real and, for rock musicians, rather interesting.

The story focuses on three former members of the band Broadsword as they meet up, after 16 years apart, at the memorial seravice for the fourth band member, who disappeared six months before this and is presumed dead. Under the direction of Mark St. Amant, tongue-in-cheek humor affectionately coexists with a sense of mystery and longing. His uniformly strong cast of young actors is bookended with the prodigious skills of Morlan Higgins and Armin Shimerman. Higgins plays a musicologist who had been working with the missing member, Richie, on music esoterica. Shimerman plays The Man in White—not the color we usually associate this figure with—appearing to be an agent who plucked Richie's brother, Tony, from the group and encouraged Tony's solo career. Tim Venable makes a brooding Tony, Kenneth Allan Williams is the teddy-bear former drummer, Blake Robbins is the unflappable bass player, and Heather Sher is the sturdy girlfriend. What's missing from the script is a fully realized bond among the Broadsword boys that would make clear why they're taking the risk at the play's climax. Otherwise, they're just foolhardy.

Kurt Boetcher's basement set lets the audience eavesdrop on the characters; but should our eyes wander, we can glimpse period instruments, old amps, a washer and dryer, and rafters precariously stuffed with stored junk. Leigh Allen's lighting is on the dark side, yet we can see the actors' every expression. Dave Marling's sound design includes hilarious static from the amps. Thomas Hajdu composed the devilishly jokey music. And, by the way, are the wonderfully stunning footprints made of earthly filth or are they the stuff of legends? It's for the audience to decide.

Presented by and at the Black Dahlia Theatre, 5453 W. Pico Blvd., L.A. June 18–July 31. Thu.–Sun., 8 p.m. (800) 838-3006. www.thedahlia.com.