Summer Theatre: The Valley Heats Up
Stuck in your sweltering upstairs apartment with no air conditioning? Are Aunt Flo and Uncle Wayne about to roll up in their motor home looking for entertainment? Or are you simply thirsting for a cool, refreshing drink from the wellsprings of culture? Well, lucky for you, summer is here, and with it comes a bumper crop of great theatre. From Theatricum Botanicum in the west to the Alex Theatre in the east, Valley theatres are in full swing, offering everything from Shakespearean war-horses in outdoor settings to intimate dramas in converted storefronts. From comedy to tragedy, classical to contemporary, Valley theatre is blossoming (or is that baking?) like a field of sunflowers on a midsummer’s day.
To help you get started on your quest for the perfect play, we have selected a few productions for review that seized our attention for one reason or another, or for no reason in particular. These few, however, are just a sampling of the impressive list of productions that can be found this month. And while there may be a few dandelions in the bunch, it’s really too hot to kick up a fuss. So, pack up grandma, roll down the windows, and head on out to a playhouse near you.
Minor Demons
Alliance Theatre, 3204 West Magnolia Blvd., Burbank — (818) 566-7935
Minor Demons is a topical drama about two friends, a lawyer and a cop, and the brutal murder of a teenage girl in a working-class town just outside of Pittsburgh. It is also about addiction, and loneliness, and doing the right thing in morally complex situations. It is about families, and the ways people love and abuse each other. It’s about the legal system. And it’s about loss, and how things can’t be taken back: not words, not betrayal, not abuse, and not murder.
The power of this play lies in its cumulative effect. The drama unfolds slowly, methodically, tightening its grip on the audience gradually, until at last its powerful and frightening climax is unleashed. Minor Demons is a rather conventional play, in many ways, but in the hands of this talented company, it is a seduction.
The story finds Deke Winters (Al Sapienza), a flashy lawyer recovering from drug and alcohol abuse, returning to his home town, seeking solace from his personal demons. Like a wounded animal, he hides from the spotlight, until a bizarre murder thrusts him into its glare, as the defense attorney for young Kenny Simmonds (Arnie Starkey), a maladjusted youth and accused murderer. He is soon forced into an adversarial role with his lifelong friend, Vince DelGatto (Blaise Messinger), whose failure to obtain evidence in a proper manner threatens to destroy the prosecution’s case. The resulting rift between these two men is the centerpiece of the drama.
The cast is quite good and the illusion effective. Everyday life, with its small hopes and overwhelming catastrophes, is captured poignantly: a father yells at his children in the other room as he sits in the kitchen with his wife and a friend; a mother is unable, after long years of abuse, to say out loud that her son molested a teenage girl; a parent grieves, angry at a system that might allow the killer of his daughter to go free on a technicality; a sad and helpless cop wonders painfully if his life has ever added up to anything. These are the moments that make up Minor Demons.
Director Louis D’Esposito keeps the drama focused and tight. The players dole out the emotion in small units, conserving their energy until needed. Cheri Caspari, as Diane Sikorski, Deke’s defensive and combative co-lawyer, takes some warming up to, but her drunken scene with Deke is intimate and human. Arnie Starkey is creepy as Kenny, and illustrates how always looking on the bright side has its limits. Kathleen Marie Archer is a highlight of the evening as the formidable Mrs. Simmonds—let’s see more of her. And Blaise Messinger gives a complex and humanizing portrayal of a cop that is striking for many reasons, not the least of which is its compassion. Leading the pack, Al Sapienza is understated and believable as the troubled lawyer, Deke.
One of the interesting qualities of Minor Demons is the way the various characters’ viewpoints can be understood, when seen in context. This empathy for the misunderstood is a great strength of the play, and a message of hope in the bleak world portrayed here. In the end, these characters must live with themselves, and with each other, no matter what their failings. In the end, they must learn to forgive. (Jeff Nelson)
Mijo
Whitefire Theatre, 13500 Ventura Blvd., Sherman Oaks — July 15–August 27 — (213) 969-2445
Mijo, now playing at the Whitefire Theatre, begins with a rather preposterous situation and builds from there. But let’s let you decide. The lights come up on Carmen (Laura James), a very tiny woman doing step aerobics at 5:00 a.m. in a New York apartment while her son, Juan, lays dying of AIDS in the next room. No, that’s not the preposterous part. A menacingly tall black man, Michael (Jay Arlen Jones), clothed in black leather fetish garments and behaving like your basic urban nightmare, walks in and, to prove he actually does know this woman’s son, proceeds to regale her with tales involving the young man’s birthmark, ejaculatory target practice, and the sensation they share of both having had the son within their body. No, that’s not the preposterous part. So she spends about two seconds trying to frighten him off with a baseball bat and then, and this is where I had the problem, she lets him stay. You can see why having what follows might be just a tad problematic.
Actually, what follows would have been problematic regardless. The actors are saddled with lines of such staggering pomposity (Big favorite: “If love is a killer then, yes, I murdered your son.”) that the audience can only sit slack-jawed and await the onslaught. (No, wait, perhaps my favorite was, “Nobody gave a damn about my elegiac epiphany.”) There’s a story in the midst of all this writing, perhaps even an intriguing one, but who can wade through the surrounding claptrap? (Okay, this time I’m certain, my favorite was definitely the moment after the mother returns from tending to her soiled and demented child. Michael’s greeting? “You smell like Juan. Your smell makes me hard.” I ask you.) There’s love. There’s death. There’s sex, sort of. There’s a dance break. What there isn’t, is escape.
While the eponymous “Mijo” passes from this world to the next offstage, we the audience begin to feel the malaise of terminal symbolism. Not only does this tall black figure clothed in black come to visit the house of the dying, he proclaims at various times in the play to be “truth serum in solid form,” “feelings,” and “forgiveness.” Had he claimed to write the songs the whole world sings I, for one, would have been unable to express surprise. Game though they are, the actors in this production are doomed from somewhere around the fourth line.
As I understand it, this show actually sprang from a monologue in a show entitled off, and, as a monologue, I’m told it was quite a show stopper. As it stands now, though, it’s just one damn catharsis after another. There is a very strong possibility that should you go to see this show you will find it an experience of unsurpassed lyricism and heap scorn upon my doltish head. Feel free. I have never been able to pin down the line between poetry and bludgeoning pretension. And remember, even questionable theatre is preferable to summer reruns. (Wenzel Jones)
The Tragedy of Macbeth
Theatricum Botanicum, 1419 North Topanga Canyon Blvd., Topanga — through September 18 — (310) 455-3723
One of the best-kept secrets of local theater is the delightful Theatricum Botanicum in Topanga Canyon. Set outdoors in a beautiful woodland setting, this rustic theatre is dedicated primarily to producing Shakespeare, but also presents works by other classical and modern playwrights. In addition to Macbeth, this season will also see a production geared for families and young audiences of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream (through July 16), Molière’s Educated Women (July 2–August 6), and Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie (August 13–September 18). Founded by Will Geer (best known as “Grandpa” on television’s The Waltons) the Theatricum Botanicum is not only the home to a professional repertory company, but also offers classes and workshops for both adults and youngsters at its Academy of the Classics.
Macbeth is, of course, one of Shakespeare’s finest plays, as much praised for its hauntingly beautiful language as for its fascinating study of a murderer’s heart. The bloody killing of Duncan, king of Scotland, at the hands of ambitious Macbeth and his scheming wife, Lady Macbeth, is the chilling crime at the center of this dark work. What drives men to murder? Is it greed? Self-importance? Fear? Or is man the plaything of supernatural spirits and unearthly creatures? Macbeth is both a careful study of one man’s descent into evil and a grand, despairing tale of life’s futility—“a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
This production is beautifully mounted and cleverly staged. Director Ellen Geer uses the natural setting of the Theatricum to marvelous effect, placing actors among the trees and on the hillside as well as on the stage, a device that greatly expands the psychological space of the theatre, and adds a note of realism to the proceedings. The leafy trees and sometimes cawing crows overhead are a reminder of the connection between the natural and the supernatural, and of the mysteries of life and death. How much more obvious these connections must have seemed in Shakespeare’s day, when after watching the play, one walked home through the dark woods, full of “horrible imaginings,” and not back to the air-conditioned car to drive home on the freeway!
Macbeth is played in a grand manner by Tom Allard, who commands the stage, if not his destiny. At once magnificent and terrible, Allard’s Macbeth is a portrait of decay, a being whose festering guilt eats constantly at his soul, ultimately devouring the man. Lady Macbeth, as played by Ellen Geer, is a puppetmaster whose marionettes spin faster and faster, until she is finally, fatally, entangled in events she herself sent whirling into motion. Geer is graceful, in the manner of a snake, and gives a performance that is pure poison. See her plot and chide Macbeth! See her clasp her bloody hands with his, sealing their dark fates together! See her on the castle stairs, fruitlessly cleansing that awful stain! Believe me, this is good stuff.
The rest of the handsome cast are all first rate. The three “weird sisters” (Earnestine Phillips, Melora Marshall, and Herta Ware) and Heather (Holly Orlansky), ancient fertility goddess and protectress of witches, are especially fun, and gambol about, abducting improbably pouting crows and basically stirring up trouble. The march to Dunsinane is dramatically staged, and ends in a quite exciting battle that had me looking everywhere at once. And, for those of you who like gore, there is a special little treat at the end of the play that left the audience gasping for more.
You should realize that the Theatricum’s historically charming grounds and picturesque Shakespeare garden are a very nice place to enjoy a picnic, before or after the show, something encouraged by those who run the place. Finally, and this is very important, it is strongly recommended that you bring a comfortable cushion or go prepared to sit on a cold, hard bench. No cushion, and you will feel like you are sitting on the deck of a melting ice barge. Cushion, and you will be transported to a land of leisure and imagination in a shady, rustic idyll. It’s as simple as that. (Jeff Nelson)
The Zoo Story
Actor’s Workload Studio, 7723 Lankershim Blvd., North Hollywood — through July 30 — (818) 508-7305
This production of The Zoo Story, currently playing at the Actor’s Workload Studio, adds a new dimension to this Albee classic by using American Sign Language (ASL). The addition gives the work an extra element and expands the intimacy that can exist between the two performers of the play. Heath and Daren are formidable talents and they give the work such care you wonder how the play could be done without ASL. At times, however, the pace is too slow. A moment of reflection is just as important as speech or action in building and sustaining momentum.
Making human connections is what The Zoo Story is all about. By presenting the play with both spoken word and signing, we can see more clearly how isolated we are from our internal worlds and how much we depend on the communities of strangers with whom we share our lives.
The Actor’s Workload Studio has brought this intimate style of performance to the Valley with their new black-box space on Lankershim — a venue dedicated to poetry, plays, and discussion of the arts. The Studio’s focus on the development and growth of the individual artist is evident in their commitment to challenging work. If this production is any indication, the Studio should enjoy a long and prosperous life. ♦
A Man’s A Man
Odyssey Theatre, 2055 S. Sepulveda Blvd., West Hollywood — (818) 732-0691
When Bertolt Brecht created A Man’s A Man in 1925, the German Expressionist movement, with its revolutionary approaches to the social structures of the previous century, had already passed its high-water mark and was fragmenting into various competing factions. The hopes of post-war Germany to build a more perfect society were being replaced with the biting disillusionment and pessimism brought about by civil unrest and economic chaos, catastrophic events that nevertheless inspired a flood of work in fields as various as music, dance, art, literature, and architecture. A Man’s A Man exemplifies the New Realism that was characteristic of Germany between the wars.
One of the exciting aspects of German drama of the 1920s was its modernity. Its despair for humanity and civilization, satiric and ominous, is as thrilling and evocative to contemporary audiences as it was to those who flocked to the theatres in pre-Nazi Germany.
The songs are well sung and are quite entertaining in themselves. Musical Director Gordon accompanies the cast on piano with apt arrangements and solos, and works well with this material. The choreography by Terry Emond brings together both modern and traditional styles in a way that is truly beautiful and unforgettable.
Despite its shortcomings, this is a fine production on many levels. The play is better and sharper today than it ever was, although in Brecht’s Germany it must have seemed genuinely urgent. After Hitler’s seizure of power in 1933, Brecht himself suggested a re-working of the play to specifically target Nazism. This play is about something dark, something important, and to experience it is to hear Brecht’s voice, a voice ever so slightly edged with panic, telling us to be on guard: there is evil in the world, evil that comes from ignorance and fear, but that wears the cloak of the military general, and speaks with the tongue of the politician. Evil appears when it is presented reasonably, when we are told that it is necessary for the good of all (all of those like ourselves, that is). Evil is necessary, lies are the truth, intellect is suspect, we’re number one, we must keep the others out! Heil Hitler! (Jeff Nelson)
The Chisholm Trail Went Through Here
The Road Theatre Company, 14141 Covello, 9-D, Van Nuys — July 1–August 7 — (818) 785-6175
If you miss The Road Theatre’s latest production, which effectively opened their fourth season Friday, July 1, at their Van Nuys facility, then you’ll be missing one of the best Los Angeles plays of the year. Brady Thomas’ The Chisholm Trail Went Through Here is one of the finest plays to be seen in Los Angeles since The Coast Theatre’s production of Distant Fires. Quite honestly, theatre doesn’t get much better than this.
What makes this play so unique and special, besides the outstanding acting, directing, and production values that The Road has lent it, is a dynamic script by Brady Thomas that quietly percolates and simmers, much like the coffee on the back burner in the rustic and old-fashioned Rucker kitchen. This is the kind of American play that is hard to find anymore—a well-constructed and durable two-act play with resounding dramatic import and unforgettable characters. You know, plays with resonance and scope and scant amounts of profanity—the last of a dying breed, if you will.
The Chisholm Trail Went Through Here concerns the plight of the Rucker family, living out their existence in the dry, arid plains of North Central Texas. They have worked the land surrounding their farmhouse for generations, but now, after surviving the changing global landscape of two world wars and the bleak years of the Great Depression, the Rucker family is finding itself hard put to make sense of their place in the twilight of the American frontier. It is 1947 and the matriarch of the clan, Mae Rucker, is trying to hold together the remaining tendrils of her wanderlust-struck family members. Besides grappling with the overwhelming societal and agrarian changes that confront them almost daily, the Rucker characters, each individual in their own right, must figure out how to best take a stand and make a mark.
While Brady’s play is a character study through and through (it brings to mind Arthur Miller’s early masterpiece, All My Sons, and Richard Nash’s The Rainmaker), much transpires around the huge, mahogany table that adorns the set as the centerpiece of this visceral slice of bygone Americana. The table serves as a solid symbol of strength and nourishment for these traditional, sincere people. It’s the kind of table that people rarely find themselves sitting down to anymore—the daily regimen of the cathartic family meal having gone the way of the Edsel and the radio drama. And The Chisholm Trail Went Through Here plays the Rucker family drama across this table with wit and, ultimately, searing violence.
Taylor Gilbert’s masterful direction is sure and in keeping with the play’s sense and cadence. She has cast the play to within an inch of its life. The cast is impeccable from top to bottom and every actor has a moment to shine. Standouts include: Patricia Healy as Mae Rucker, brilliant as she moves the play (and a number of multi-course family meals) through its dramatic paces. Nine-year-old Tawni Tamietti, as the granddaughter Jo Beth, has an amazing amount of text and stage time and conducts herself with an intelligence and focus that is rarely seen in a performance by a youngster on stage; Tawni delivers some of the play’s most heartfelt and poignant moments. David Giannopoulos as the irascible son, Buck, brings a macho edge and a comic sensibility to the role that can’t be beat. Christopher Favile’s Bryan Lee Rucker provides an engaging turn as the son who would rather paint and pursue life as an artist than leave home and stake a claim for himself in the real world. Eve Brent, as the elderly Aunt Josie Davoset, is textbook cantankerous and a joy to watch. Maria Marlowe as the misunderstood Peggy Joan Sandusky (Buck’s girlfriend) turns in an extraordinary performance with one of the play’s most demanding characters. Susan Rome’s portrayal of daughter Eileen is keenly astute and her work here is not to be missed. Finally, Patrick James Clarke, as the black sheep Malcolm Jennings, is an amazing performer—his aw-shucks trickster demeanor not revealing the inner turmoil and chaos of a life gone rotten until an unfortunate decision he makes in the second act brings the wrath of the family upon him.
If you see no other play this summer, this is the one. The Chisholm Trail Went Through Here is a landmark play for a theatre that is fast becoming one of the finest venues for the newest and best of American dramas. ♦ (Barry J. Williams)