THEATRE REVIEW:

"7 BLOWJOBS" at SLEDGEHAMMER Theatre

KPBS AIRDATE: OCTOBER 24, 1991

If you blush easily, turn down the volume. Here comes the play title the newspapers won't print. It's called... "7 Blowjobs," and that may be the most provocative part of the whole thing. Not surprisingly, it comes from Sledgehammer Theatre, San Diego's fringe arts organization that simply thrives on audience shock-appeal.

They're back to seeking out offbeat venues, too, housing the play in a cavernous downtown garage. A perfect setting. No exhaust fumes, but plenty of horsepower in the production.

When we enter the garage, we're confronted first with a massive standing mural, a veritable spreadsheet of art icons, from Venus on the Halfshell to a Campbell's soup can. Parts or all of this "7 Blowjobs" mural are for sale, to benefit Sledgehammer. The statement is about controversial art. That's what award-winning playwright Mac Wellman is talking about. He's had a number of run-ins with the Radical Right and the National Endowment for the Arts.

So he's dedicated this piece to Senator Jesse Helms and Rev. Donald Wildmon, who, together with Representative Dana Rohrabacher and Rev. Pat Robertson, make up "the four Harebrained Horsemen of our Contemporary Cornball Apocalypse." You get the picture already. There isn't going to be much in the way of subtlety for the rest of the evening. But you will get plenty of laughs.

Wellman, known for his linguistic playfulness, isn't really saying anything new. He's got a cast of stock, stereotypical characters, like a bumbling, smarmy Senator, his moronic son and Peter Principled staff, and a close ally who's a sanctimonious televangelist. Hypocrisy runs high. That leaves plenty of space for Sledgehammer to move in for the kill.

The story is merely an excuse for some terrifically over-the-top performances. You see, one typical day on Capitol Hill, a package arrives at Senator Bob's office. Inside are seven shockingly explicit photographs of amazingly unnatural acts. Staffers can't even determine whether the acts are being committed by people or animals, by the Pope or the Senator's sons. But we watch each character, in turn, react to the pictures, talk about where they came from, what to do about them, and then surreptitiously try to recreate some of the outlandish poses.

Director Scott Feldsher makes marvelous use of his agile cast; the production is filled with silly moves, split-second timing, pratfalls, skittishness and squirming. It's physically and visually irresistible. Much more so than the play.

Produced by a less clever, creative, smartass company, it might be merely repetitive and derivative. But just to watch the facial and bodily contortions, the drooling, writhing and praying on all fours, is to howl at the hilarity, the insanity of it all. Haven't we just seen and heard enough from Senators on national television? Apparently not. Mac Wellman knows it never ends, especially when sex, politics and religion are intertwined. Or are they ever separable any more? Speaking of entanglements, you won't want to miss some of San Diego's finest actors, cavorting on one stage together, backed by terrific tech work, and everyone apparently having a helluva time. ...

I'm Pat Launer, for KPBS radio.

©1991 Patté Productions Inc.