Channeling Kevin Spacey

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Photo Source: Warren Chow

A great popular and critical success on the fringe-festival circuit, "Channeling Kevin Spacey" recalls Woody Allen's "Play It Again, Sam" in its portrayal of a hapless schnook seeking inspiration in the temple of cinema. Given that the script, by Elan Wolf Farbiarz and Cory Terry, is rooted in middle-class male anxiety and the need for fictional role models, it's a shame the play doesn't cut a little closer to the bone. As it stands, "Channeling Kevin Spacey" is an extended comedy sketch, leaving very little trace of itself behind. Still, it's a frantically amusing showcase for the comedic talents of its two lead actors, and film buffs will have a fine time playing spot-the-reference.

In place of Allen's Bogart-worshipping nebbish, we have Charlie (Justin R.G. Holcomb), a beefy everyman with a soulless job and an even more soulless girlfriend. While spending yet another night with a stack of Netflix rentals, he comes to the appalling realization that his life parallels those of the defeated, frustrated characters embodied by Kevin Spacey. To break out of his passive rut, he decides to model his behavior on that of Al Pacino's characters—not the soulful introvert of "Serpico" or "Panic in Needle Park," but the shameless bellower of "Scarface" and "Scent of a Woman," who bulldozes his way into every situation.

Title notwithstanding, the play invokes Kevin Spacey rather vaguely, and Charlie's epiphany is dispensed with a little too quickly. Pacino is the real focus here, and Holcomb parodies the actor's macho excesses in high style. Holcomb's co-star, Jamil Chokachi, plays all the other roles, ranging from an oily pickup artist to Charlie's crush, a sweet female bagel-shop clerk. Slipping in and out of multiple characters with quicksilver speed, Chokachi evokes Frank Gorshin, the great impressionist and comic actor of the '50s and '60s best known for his portrayal of the Riddler on the "Batman" TV series. It's all there: the blade-thin androgyny, the facility with voices, the unnerving leer. He suggests a manic, possibly poisonous lizard, and I mean that in the best possible way.

Presented by Wolf & William Productions at St. Luke's Theatre, 308 W. 46th St., NYC. Opened May 15 for an open run. Sat., 5 p.m.; Sun., 7 p.m. (212) 239-6200 or www.telecharge.com.