OUR TOWN
at South Coast Repertory
Reviewed by Kristina Mannion
No curtain. No scenery. An empty, half-lit stage. These are the spare directions that preface the first act of Thornton Wilder's well-trod work Our Town, the deceptively simple classic which, in chronicling the small-town lives of those who inhabit turn-of-the-century Grover's Corners, New Hampshire, highlights the universal, often underappreciated, joys and sorrows of everyday life.
Stepping beyond those brief set directions, however, this new South Coast Repertory production offers a slightly different opener. In addition to the required bare stage, designer Michael Devine includes a softly back-lit scrim, behind which the large ensemble cast leisurely carries out its pre-show preparations. Treated to this behind-the-scenes set-up, spectators filing into the theatre get their first taste of the play's unconventional storytelling style, which blends past, present, and future while always making us aware that we are really watching a play within a play.
The atmosphere created by this unique beginning is one of piqued anticipation--somehow, we expect that something different, wonderful, and important is going to happen. And it does. That feeling of anticipation, so carefully cultivated by director Mark Rucker and his outstanding cast, is sustained throughout this moving account of the Gibbs and Webb families--from the first words of the venerable Stage Manager, to George Gibbs and Emily Webb's marriage, to Emily's heartrending realizations following her death in the third act. Effectively bringing out both the play's gentle humor and the more sobering experiences of the familiar characters, this second installment in SCR's American Classics Series proves that Wilder's oft-produced play is well worth the telling, and retelling.
In a further departure from the traditional Our Town mold, the SCR cast is an ethnically diverse panel of performers that serves as a mirror of our own contemporary kaleidoscope of racial backgrounds. Shaking up any preconceived notions of an all-Anglo cast, Rucker's vision of a 1998 revival (we're now 60 years from the play's '38 premiere) includes a female African-American Stage Manager (Kimberly Scott), a Hispanic George Gibbs (Jesus Mendoza), an Asian-American Mrs. Webb (Emily Kuroda), and other players of disparate heritage. A commonly shared New England accent is the one tangible tie that links them to early 20th-century Grover's Corners; otherwise, the group is a multifaceted metaphor for Wilder's desire to show us a little bit of ourselves in the ordinary people and the ordinary events of Our Town.
Exhibiting an obvious and convincing chemistry, the cast is a near-flawless collaborative team. In spite of a few bumps in her delivery, Scott guides the program with an almost motherly touch as the Stage Manager, the show's kindly narrator. Perhaps more at home in their roles, Mendoza and Sanaa Lathan, as George and Emily, make a stunning pair, both innocent and earnest in their youthful devotion to one another. Also lending strong performances are Armando Josƒ Dur‡n and Kuroda as Mr. and Mrs.Webb, and Kirk Taylor and Jennifer Parsons as Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs.
Coupled with Rucker's solid direction, the portrayals rendered here offer a stirring interpretation that culminates in a poignant, uncompromising final act--one that still has the power to produce a discernible hush throughout the entire theatre.
"Our Town," presented by and at South Coast Repertory, 655 Town Center Dr., Costa Mesa. Feb. 20-Mar. 28. (714) 708-5555.
BONDAGE:
A NIGHT IN
THE LIFE OF A PROSTITUTE
at the Zephyr Theatre
Reviewed by Brad Schreiber
"The things I do to earn a crust," laments London streetwalker Liz. Caning a client's buttocks in his bathroom while children try to break down the door is, ironically, one of the more innocent things she does. Bettina Ottenstein brilliantly traverses the territory of heartbreak and absurdity in this very strong one-character play by Brit David Hines. The U.S. stage premiere of Bondage, trailing Ken Russell's film version, Whore, is based on stories told to Hines while he worked as a cabbie. While crude and bizarre at times, they capture the inherent danger and humiliation of the profession unstintingly.
Ottenstein, pacing about in black vinyl raincoat and lingerie on a chilly evening in London's wretched Kings Cross district, holds forth on crooked cops, perverse johns, a lingering pimp, her estranged son, and a woman who lends a decidedly unique strength to her tenuous existence. The Danish actress has her Cockney dialect down cold, and director Robert Parr's skillful direction brings even more sympathy to the fore, as she sniffles and stamps her frozen feet, laced into red skyscraper pumps.
With a voice that alternately amuses with outrageous exaggeration and gouges with unnerving, quiet destitution, Ottenstein proves remarkably adept at an emotional balancing act that is highly demanding and pays off big time. She wrings laughter upon telling a client wanting to kiss, "If you want passion, that costs extra." Yet when she beseechingly asks the audience if her profession can be read in her face alone, it is impossible to not be moved. Regardless of the weather, this is a performance that demands attendance, for a woman who makes you thrill to walk more than a mile in her uncomfortable shoes.
"Bondage: A Night in the Life of a Prostitute," presented by and at the Zephyr Theatre, 7456 Melrose Ave., Hollywood. Jan. 24-Mar. 8. (213) 660-8587.
THE MUSIC MAN
at La Mirada Theatre for the Performing Arts
Reviewed by Les Spindle
The 45th season of Musical Theatre West is off to a rip-roaring start. As the cornerstone to what has shaped up as a local Meredith Willson festival (preceded by Here's Love at Musical Theatre Guild in December and the current Unsinkable Molly Brown at Fullerton Civic Light Opera), this scintillating revival of The Music Man, Willson's best work, reminds us how utterly satisfying the old-fashioned feel-good musicals can be.
The 1957 Music Man was among the most highly acclaimed and popular products of Broadway's musical Golden Age, and for good reason. The seamlessly integrated book, music, and lyrics by Willson are blessed with the hummable songs, lavish dance numbers, lighthearted humor, nostalgic Americana, and unabashed sentiment that have become all but obsolete in the new breed of harder-edged musicals. The story tells of likeable con man Harold Hill (Squire Fridell), who comes to the squeaky-clean community of River City, Iowa, to persuade the local citizens to invest in a boy's band, despite the fact that he can't tell one note from another. When Hill falls for standoffish librarian Marian (Janine Lindsay Benson), his duplicitous ways and her icy exterior eventually give way to the power of romance.
Foremost among the many praiseworthy elements of this excellent production is its unflagging energy, thanks to Todd Helm's robust musical direction, Lee Martino's buoyant choreography, and director Gary Gordon's superb staging, especially in the zestful ensemble numbers. Fridell is appropriately charming and weaselly at the same time, though his characterization is stronger than his vocal prowess. Benson is a graceful and captivating leading lady who serves Willson's lovely songs exceedingly well. The supporting cast is exemplary, highlighted by Jason Hillhouse's joyous performance as Hill's sidekick Marcellus, Billy Beadle as the blustery Mayor Shinn, Joey Gyondla's amusing characterization and showstopping dancing as the rascally Tommy, and the hilarious and harmonic barbershop quartet (Matthew Moul, Rusty Vance, David Eberhardt, and Justin Robertson).
Those who don't feel better after leaving this exuberant production than when they came in probably hate apple pie, Santa Claus, and Jerry Herman in about equal measure.
"The Music Man," presented by Musical Theatre West at the La Mirada Theatre for the Performing Arts, 14900 La Mirada Blvd., La Mirada. Feb. 20-Mar. 8 and at the Carpenter Performing Arts Center, 6200 Atherton St., Long Beach, Mar 14-15. (714) 521-4849.
WINTER
SHORTS 2
at the Tiffany Theater
Reviewed by Paul Birchall
Here's a collection of one act plays from New York's Naked Angels troupe that's everything a small theatre production should be: edgy, witty, substantial, and enthrallingly performed.
The flat-out funniest of the pieces is Ann Washburn's bizarre and outlandish The Tanks Break, in which a temp receptionist (Kelly Wolf) and her associates (Jessica Queller and Amanda Charlton) are the last line of defense as Armageddon commences. Director Charlton creates a hilariously ironic mood that's the perfect combination of nine-to-five corporate hell and surreal lunacy. And as sweet-talking receptionists clearly on the verge of turning into venomous monsters, Wolf and Queller both give particularly keen-witted performances.
Theresa Rebeck's wry and emotionally true Great to See You, in which a New York girl (Julie White) finds herself in an uncomfortable reunion with a former boyfriend (Tim Ransom) and his increasingly clingy wife (Rebecca O'Brien), is a subtextual tour de farce, offering a trio of deftly dysfunctional characterizations startlingly recognizable from any hour of the Doctor Laura radio show. The dialogue crackles, and directors Mary Pat Greene and Amanda Grace elegantly convey the horror and discomfort of a romantic debacle.
John Sayles' New Hope for the Dead, directed by the Wilton Project's Charlie Stratton, is a strange piece about an aspiring actress (Leslie Hope) who finds herself in a dark basement lair inhabited by an eccentric young man (Taro Alexander). Writer and director conspire to create a fascinatingly bizarre mood that defies easy explanation, but the performances are sad and insightful. The piece also concludes with one of the year's more simple but arrestingly disturbing final images.
Liz Tuccillo's hysterical Work, in which a desperate yet maladroit aspiring waitress (Kathleen Dennehy, in a gleeful performance) forces her hapless lover (Ned Eisenberg) to help her train for her new job, is rich in farcical humor and is dispatched with a delicious sense of comic timing.
"Winter Shorts 2," presented by Naked Angels at the Tiffany Theater, 8532 Sunset Blvd., W. Hollywood. Feb. 18-Mar. 7. (213) 660-8587.
YES IS FOR A VERY YOUNG MAN
at Theatre Exchange
Reviewed by Rob Kendt
The big question with a Gertrude Stein play is how her naggingly repetitive language can live onstage. The big surprise, in this nearly flawless and scintillating new production of her most accessible play, is that the language fairly breathes and pulses with wit, conviction, and feeling. In the hands of the capable actors of the Interact Theatre Co., under Lamont Johnson's strong, sensitive direction, the effect of Stein's elliptically orbiting dialogue on this relatively straightforward tale of a small French town during the Nazi occupation is not distancing or pretentious but rather layered, enriching, and occasionally hypnotic.
It is simple on the surface: five scenes and four main characters, seen over four years, from the French-German armistice of 1940 to the invasion of Normandie in 1944. And on Bradley Kaye's deft, painterly set--which, like the production, seems to capture a peculiarly French combination of bucolic and cosmopolitan, the artful and the everyday--the action of each scene is indeed laid out simply. But Stein's dramaturgy is remarkably deft, with occasional swathes of exposition leavened by her teasing way with words; we meet the American artist, Constance (Stacy Ray), who tries to stay above the fray but is not entirely unsusceptible to the persistent attentions of Ferdinand (David Drew Gallagher), a young man otherwise torn to the point of impotence over his country's occupation. And we meet Denise (Megan Zakar), a pragmatic country bourgeois whose alliances seem to go further to the right with each scene, while those of her explosively sardonic husband, Henri (Josh Adell), become more or less openly pro-Resistance.
If these sound like placards as written, they take on marvellously human contours in these actors' hands, from Zakar's forceful, alert readings to Adell's passionate exasperation, from Ray's eloquent ladylike steel to Gallagher's--oops, here's the rub. In the production's only misstep, Johnson has wildly miscast the role he played in the piece's 1946 premiere at the Pasadena Playhouse. Gallagher looks about as French as Opie Taylor, and his even, naturalistic acting, with a voice as flat as Kansas, stands out like a square peg from the production's more rounded theatrical vision. This is not quite the liability it could be, since Ferdinand is a strangely intermittent leading man, but it unfortunately deflates many of his scenes with Ray.
Contributing nicely to the overall vision are Eve Brenner and Mary Carver as a pair of nattering maids, James Harper as a laconic, spookily kind Nazi, and James Gleason as a nervily loyal Resistance fighter. Vicki Sanchez's costumes are deliciously and broadly in period, and Cheryl Waters' lighting well complements Kaye's dusky set.
"Yes Is for a Very Young Man," presented by the Interact Theatre Company at Theatre Exchange, 11855 Hart St., N. Hollywood. Feb. 21-indef. (818) 789-8499.
ACCIDENTAL DEATH
OF AN ANARCHIST
at the Empty Space Theatre
Review by David-Edward Hughes
If you are able to laugh over the political antics in our own country, then you should be able to indulge in a hearty chucklefest at the Empty Space's fine production of Dario Fo's Accidental Death of an Anarchist. Rod Ceballos' machine-gun pacing and smooth direction of a talented ensemble highlights an adaptation by Richard Nelson that is nearly always amusing, if not always comprehensible.
Anarchist concerns a probe into the accidental death (or was it?) of a political anarchist who fell out an open police station window. Thanks to a slippery-tongued devil called the Fool, who assumes new looks and identities in the blink of an eye, the cloddish villains of the piece are ultimately put through the wringer.
Seattle newcomer Robert G. Anderson offers a boldly inventive broad comic portrayal of the Fool, bringing to mind the kind of comic chaos one associates with Robin Williams. He is matched in his buffoonery by Anthony Curry's dolt of a Police Chief and Jeffrey Treadwell's frustrated Captain. Other good work comes from Bruce Holmes as a much abused Inspector, and Keith Anderson's lump of an Officer. Joanne Klein gets to wear a very funny costume, but the straight-woman nature of the Reporter role wastes her comic skills.
High marks all around on the technical side, from Carol Wolfe Clay's appropriately drab and realistic police station set, enhanced by Tim Wratten's lighting and Lissa Cuneen's pleasing costumes. Anarchist will offend some, please many others, and keep the seats full at the Space for the remainder of its run.
"Accidental Death of an Anarchist," presented by and at the Empty Space Theatre, 3509 Fremont Ave N., Seattle. Feb. 18-Mar. 21. (206) 547-7500.
CABARET
at the Granada Theatre
Reviewed by Donna Mulgrew
Santa Barbara Civic Light Opera continues its cutting-edge season of provocative Broadway drama with director Mark Madama's interpretation of the Kander and Ebb classic Cabaret. Madama's treatment is reminiscent of the Bob Fosse film but features a more malevolent Emcee (Jamie Torcellini) and a somewhat sweeter Sally Bowles (Darcie Roberts). SBCLO's production more than lives up to the Fosse presentation.
Disarming as the free-thinking, fast-living Bowles, Roberts has a voice that is surprisingly strong, especially since the Sunday matinee I attended was but the fifth time she has been able to sing her role since her Jan. 28 thyroidectomy (younger sister Rhea Roberts took on the singing duties from the orchestra pit for the first week and a half of the run). Singing is not her only forte: Roberts' dancing is jazzy and splashy, her acting right on.
Torcellini, more than any of the other very capable players, absolutely owns his role. By the time he's through with the opening, "Wilkommen," Joel Grey's ghost is vanquished. An accomplished dancer, Torcellini is so confidently convincing that we believe indeed that tomorrow belongs to him.
Anthony Paul Meindl is boyishly charming as the sensitive yet open-eyed young American novelist caught up in the Mardi Gras-like debauchery of pre-World War II Berlin. Meindl's is one of the three standout voices (after Roberts and Torcellini) of the production. Barry Dennen is lovable as the hopelessly optimistic Jewish shopkeeper, jilted by the pragmatic boarding house operator, performed ably by Claiborne Cary. Katie Thatcher avoids a stereotypical portrayal of the hard-hearted whore as Fraulein Kost, the sailor-serving prostitute who shows herself to be "patriotic" outside her rooms as well as in them.
Appropriately gaudy and glitzy costuming complements just-edgy-enough choreography, not-quite-garish sets, and intriguing lighting design in this satisfying theatrical sojourn.
"Cabaret," presented by Santa Barbara Civic Light Opera at The Granada Theatre, 1216 State St., Santa Barbara. Feb. 6-Mar. 1. (805) 966-2324.
GROSS INDECENCY:
THE THREE TRIALS OF OSCAR WILDE
at the Mark Taper Forum
Reviewed by Rob Kendt
There is more to Gross Indecency, Moisƒs Kaufman's playful and pointed parsing of letters, writing, and records of the grinding humiliation suffered by Oscar Wilde at the hands of the English courts in 1895, than liberal-hindsight docudrama. If this startling account of institutional homophobia at times feels a bit like one of those TV movies about the bad old days of segregation or McCarthyism or a fill-in-the-blank evil we can congratulate ourselves we now know better about, it is not for lack of theatricality: The action plays out fluidly in front of vast red velvet curtains, with the barest hint of a courtroom setting--tables either side of a podium, another long table on a lower level downstage, at which a versatile four-member chorus sits facing out, not in--and only later, in Act Two, expands upstage over and above a curtain rod, on a raked platform, and at the sides of the stage (the expansive sets are by Sarah Lambert, the dramatic lighting by Betsy Adams).
Yet even at its slickest and most sinuous, it remains a starkly Brechtian presentation, with all that implies not only in stagecraft but in a strong, didactic point of view and a dialectical course of argument (nicely nudged by the give and take of the trial format). In recreating the tragic sweep of the trials--the first a quixotic libel suit brought by Wilde against his lover's father, who accused him of posing as a homosexual, the others absurdly tawdry criminal trials which set out to prove in detail that Wilde did much more than pose--Kaufman is determined to cast Wilde as a gay art martyr, and to take him at his word in his defense of his character and his art.
This is, in the end, wisely if maddeningly true to the man who said, "The truth is rarely pure and never simple." Indeed, if Kaufman's literal-minded approach to Wilde's character occasionally gives off the cloyingly sweet odor of hagiography, it may be the show's saving grace, since Wilde in his own words is always much more complicated than he seems at first. And the elfin actor Michael Emerson is up to these complications. Though he looks nothing like Wilde, he suggests a wraithlike, idealized image of Wilde's spirit, moving like a marionette or posing like a tintype but speaking in a voice that skates disconcertingly, and movingly, along the line from petulance to passion. It's axiomatic that anyone who claims so much joy in life knows ugliness all too well, and Emerson beautifully embodies Wilde's inner torment, which was magnified, not engendered, by his public flogging.
Among the rest of the cast, Simon Templeman and Geraint Wyn Davies are both exceptional as opposing barristers, and three out of the four chorus members--J. Todd Adams, Eddie Bowz, and Benjamin Livingston--winningly steal the show in their various guises (the fourth, Mitchell Anderson, is distressingly out of his depth). Mike Doyle makes a chiselled--perhaps all too chiselled--"Bosie" Douglas, and Hal Robinson is practically a silent-film heavy as Queensberry and a pair of judges.
"Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde," presented by the Center Theatre Group and the Mark Taper Forum, 135 N. Grand Ave., Downtown L.A. Feb. 8-Mar. 29. (213) 628-2772.
GOLDEN CHILD
at the Geary Theater
Reviewed by Kerry Reid
M. Butterfly creator David Henry Hwang returns to some familiar themes of assimilation and gender roles in his newest work, making a stop at the Geary Theater (under the direction of James Lapine) prior to its Broadway opening this spring. Despite some lags in the pacing and less than crisp transitions, this is a handsome, moving, and highly intelligent portrayal of an upper-class 1918 Chinese family in the throes of transformation.
Eng Tieng-Bin (Randall Duk Kim, in a stellar performance) is a wealthy merchant whose business in Manila keeps him away from his three wives and children for long stretches of time. Before his return, we see the wives jockeying for position. First Wife Eng Siu-Yong (the marvelous Tsai Chin) is an iron-handed traditionalist, as well as an opium eater. Hwang has given her many of the best epigrammatic lines in his irony-laden script, such as her exhortation to the youngest of the three wives: "If you can't live with dishonesty, you have no business calling yourself a wife."
This third wife, Eng Eling (Ming-Na Wen), is the only one Tieng-Bin married for love. His return with an English missionary (John Horton), and his announced intention to convert to Christianity, sets fire to the tinderbox of his house, as scheming Second Wife, Eng Luan (Kim Miyori), takes up religious instruction to curry favor with her husband, who must now renounce polygamy. By play's end, Tieng-Bin learns that no changes take place without painful consequences.
Julyana Soelistyo plays Tieng-Bin's daughter, Eng Ahn, both in the past as a child and in a present-day bookend device in which Ahn appears as an old woman. Soelistyo's transformation from an eightysomething Chinese granny into a playful and inquisitive little girl is astounding, accomplished with little more than a headscarf, a shift in posture, and a change in voice.
It is the young Ahn who benefits the most from her father's attempts at modernization. Over the protests of her mother, he insists that her feet be unbound, in a truly heartrending scene that represents not just Ahn's freedom, but also the pain of that freedom--the way in which modernity will separate her from her beloved mother. To Hwang's great credit, the play makes no definitive attempt to judge whether Tieng-Bin's choices are right or not, choosing instead to concentrate on the tangled web of results, good and bad, arising from swift changes enacted out of mixed motivations.
Hwang incorporates some elements from Chinese opera, to often comic effect. Tony Straiges' scenery beautifully suggests the cloistered world of Tieng-Bin's wives, with three curtained, pagoda-like pavilions for each of their rooms. And David Landers' lighting casts a golden, luminous glow over the proceedings, evoking the mist of nostalgia and the evanescence of family history.
"Golden Child," presented by the American Conservatory Theater at the Geary Theater, 415 Geary St., San Francisco. Feb. 18-Mar. 15. (415) 749-2228.
CHILI QUEEN
at the Coronet Theatre
Reviewed by J. Brenna Guthrie
Jim Lehrer was an accomplished novelist and certainly an accomplished journalist when he wrote his first play, Chili Queen, in 1984. And while a more experienced playwright could have made the piece truly sing, Lehrer shows a tremendous amount of theatrical promise in his maiden effort.
Chili Queen's premise stems from what would seem to be an everyday event--a disagreement between two people--as it is blown out of proportion by the media. Indeed, what may have seemed outrageous satire when the play was written a decade ago would now find itself at home in the current state of media manipulation. Ex-pump jockey Buddy Hardeman (Brad Beyer) has stopped into a restaurant of the play's title on his way through East Texas. After paying for his meal, he claims the waitress Velma Allen (Margot Hartman) has short-changed him. What starts off as a simple disagreement soon turns ugly as restaurant owner Junior Denison (Neal Mayer) pulls a gun that soon ends up in Buddy's hands. The result is a hostage situation that plays out over local television.
While this is the main thrust of Lehrer's play, the inexperienced playwright seems at times more interested in proving he can flesh out characters, therefore losing much of the dramatic tension inherent in his premise. And although he definitely has an ear for realistic-sounding dialogue (in part due to growing up in the area), the characters often get sidetracked by the minutiae of life, which can be deadly in the theatre.
Producer/director Del Tenney has done a decent job in keeping the tension level high, but at times it's a losing battle with the play's meandering pace. What he does have going for him is a tremendous talent in Beyer as Buddy. Not only does he look the part of a cracker gas attendant, he has the ability to convincingly switch the emotional gears Lehrer has written for the character. As Velma, Hartman exhibits the right amount of stubbornness and sass, as well as Velma's abject fascination with being at the center of such a media event, though she lacks the depth of character that would illuminate her softer sides. Mayer has his moments as the nebbish restaurant owner, and Peter Ratray competently rounds the cast out as the no-nonsense sheriff.
On the production side, Eldon Elder has amazingly transformed the Coronet stage into a roadside diner I'm sure does exist somewhere in East Texas, and Erik Bruce's costumes perfectly complete the scene.
"Chili Queen," presented by Del Tenney and Kermit Christman at the Coronet Theatre, 366 N. La Cienega Blvd., Los Angeles. Feb. 20-Mar. 15. (213) 365-3500.
BIG
at the Paramount Theatre
Reviewed by David-Edward Hughes
Despite some significant salvage work which strengthens its lead female character, the musical version of Big, the John Weidman adaptation of the hit Tom Hanks movie, with songs by Richard Maltby Jr. and David Shire, is just about as problematic in its national touring version as it was on Broadway.
The pluses in this version of the tale of a little boy who wishes on a carnival fortuneteller and is transformed into a thirtysomething ad executive for a toy company are winning performances by its lead players. Jim Newman as big Josh is effortlessly believable as the 13-year-old trapped in a man's torso. Though it was senseless for this reworking to remove Josh's best song, "I Wanna Go Home," from the Broadway score, Newman is thoroughly satisfying and endearing in the role, especially in the duet "I Want to Know" with Joseph Medeiros' young Josh. Jacquelyn Piro almost steals the show, however, as big Josh's love interest Susan. Piro is given the best of the touring version's new songs and sings them with warmth, humor, and power.
Brett Tabisel as Billy, young Josh's ally in finding another fortuneteller to change him back, offers a buoyant reprise of the role that earned him a Tony nomination, and Judy MacLane as Josh's Mom is stellar in her portrayal (better fleshed out here than on Broadway), wringing a tear out of the best song of the evening, "Stop, Time." Ron Holgate is smooth as silk as the crusty but lovable toy company boss, and pairs well with Newman for the film-inspired "Fun" number, which features the dance on the giant piano keyboard.
Eric D. Shaeffer's direction is certainly a factor in the winning performances, and choreographer Karma Camp does what she can with office production numbers which, as on Broadway, still seem like rip-offs of similar, better numbers in How To Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. The low-budget look of the tour, especially the threadbare set designs by Zack Brown, are the production's biggest failing. Otherwise, Big is a pleasant, anachronistic throwback to a 1960s formula Broadway musical--and one which fails to make a strong case for musicalization.
"Big," presented by the Seattle Landmark Association and Pace Theatricals at the Paramount Theatre, 911 Pine St., Seattle. Feb. 17-Mar. 1. (206) 292-2787. Also playing at Civic Auditorium in Portland, Ore., Mar. 3-8.
NO EXIT
at Theatre of Arts
Reviewed by Zach Udko
If Jean-Paul Sartre were alive to see this production of his masterpiece, he might have redefined his concept of hell. Hell, contrary to Garcin's statement at the end of the play, is not "other people," but rather being forced to watch one of your favorite plays ruined by a misguided interpretation.
Perhaps the major failure of this embarrassing production is the lack of loyalty to the script. Creative license is one thing, but when it misses the complete point of the text, there's a problem. In Sartre's vision of hell, we are presented with three malicious characters trapped in a Second Empire-style room for eternity. They are neither able to close their eyes nor turn off the lights to hide from one another. Yet under Juan Carlos Malpeli's shall we say, creative direction, characters are allowed to wear sunglasses, hide behind curtains, put on masks, even taunt each other with the use of disturbing puppets. Yes, puppets.
Down time, too, becomes a rather tricky quagmire in this production. With the triangular nature of Sartre's hell, someone is always going to be left out of the other two character's romantic escapades. So, while the coward journalist Garcin (Louis Bourassa) tries to pursue a disinterested lesbian Inez (Teresa Corchete), Estelle (Tori McPetrie) makes conversation with imaginary friends and even does some delightful poses for an invisible camera. Corchete's downtime consists of shouting obscenities in Spanish (surprise! not in the script), while Bourassa has nothing else better to do than jot things down in his reporter's notebook, as if he were going to file a story on his time in hell.
McPetrie's performance would be salvageable under the right hand, adding a sometimes believable sense of empty-headed energy to the dead stage. Malpeli's set could have been appropriate if half of the items (a typewriter, scattered clothing, etc.) on the cluttered stage were removed, save for the script's suggested chairs, chaise, table, letter opener, and bronze statue. Well, at least he didn't have flames painted on the walls and horns coming out of the actors' heads.
"No Exit," presented by and at Theatre of Arts, 4128 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles. Feb. 20-Mar. 14. (213) 380-0511
