SAN DIEGO THEATRE SCENE
"CURTAIN CALLS"
By Pat Launer
11/04/03
In the theater this week, there's a
sumptuous spread:
Shows to be seen, 'Great Books' to be
read
And two with slightly different slants:
'But Can He Dance?' and Boy! Can they
dance!
LITERARY LICENSE
Don't think you have to be
ultra-literate to like "All the Great Books (Abridged)." You don't
have to have read any of the tomes presented (though you'll laugh even harder
if you have, or if you've tried). It's all in good fun, and the creators of
this mayhem, the Reduced Shakespeare Company, freely admit, onstage and off,
that they themselves haven't read 'em all, either. But if they've only perused
the Cliff Notes, they sure learned a lot.
In the program, we get a syllabus. You
see, the show is presented as a Remedial high school English class, aimed at us
dolts, the ones who couldn't pass Western lit. So this is a crash-course, and
you'd better listen up. Set in a cartoonish library, books and shelves askew,
"Great Books" brings on the Coach (Reed Martin), the Drama Teacher
(Austin Tichenor) and an addled assistant (Matthew Croke) who asks some of the
same dumb questions you or I would. A lot of writing and planning obviously went
into this, but it has the feel of improv. In fact, the night I was there (one
day before the official opening), several line-drops and other minor mishaps
occurred, and the guys were obviously riffing on the situation, making light of
it and crumpling in laughter at times. These were some of the funniest moments
of the evening. Also hilarious were the ridiculously condensed versions of
"The Iliad" and "The Odyssey," "War and Peace"
and James Joyce's "Ulysses."
But the most hysterical (in both senses
of the word) part was the final few moments of the 2-act, 2-hour performance
where [like their one-minute "Hamlet" in "The Complete Works of
William Shakespeare (Abridged)], they sprint through about 40 of the 89 Great
Books they planned to cover, summarizing each in one sentence. Sheer genius. It
went by so fast it's one section I'd love to review in print (the RSC -- funny
takeoff on the august Royal Shakespeare Company, also called the RSC-- has
become a little cottage industry, and there's all sorts of stuff for sale in
the lobby, from texts to T-shirts).
To see RSC (this RSC) once, is
to get the idea. Their antic/frantic act is very similar across themes
(Shakespeare, the Bible, American history). But if you relish humor, both high
and low (Dickens' "A Sale of Two Titties," anyone???), you're gonna
love it. Me, I'm a sucker for wit based on literate or intellectual concerns;
Larry, Curly and Moe never were my kind of guys. There's plenty of slap-shtick
here, too, but as I said, if you even ever HEARD of some of these books, the
mishmash of pop culture, high culture and below-the-belt physicality is hard to
resist. In the John Donne segment of the poetry section, for example, the
timeless line becomes twisted into: "Do not go gentle into Gladys
Knight." Politics rears its ugly head, too. The "N-word" in
"Huckleberry Finn" is misconstrued to be 'Enron.'
"Stop hiding behind the
flag," says one jokester. "Why? It works for George Bush" is the
comeback. And a nanosecond later,: "Are you hiding the weapons of mass
destruction back there?" Then the three loonies decide whether the
audience is politically with 'em or agin 'em, creating an audience-meter with
their arms. The response to the Bush-jokes was mixed, but the audience,
surprisingly, was with 'em enough to stand and seriously say the Pledge of
Allegiance at the outset; perhaps they forgot it was a comedy, or maybe it was
just the gravity of the fire-week. The RSC-men might've been startled, too, but
they didn't show it (though they did allow Jehovah's Witnesses to remain
seated).
You should know that the nutty
triumvirate does make some distinctions between what they consider Great and
not-so-great books. J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien take a drubbing
(repeatedly). Maybe they just don't like those J-initial names. And by all
means, do NOT, I repeat, do NOT come late -- unless you would delight in a
relentless assault on your punctuality and your character. There is voluntary
audience participation later, and during the intermission, you can even write
down your conception of "the two greatest books and why," which may
or may not be read out at the top of the second act. The night I was there,
Danica McKellar (star of "Proof" next door) suggested "1984,
because I like numbers," but they missed the humorous reference to "Proof";
guess they hadn't been at the San Diego Rep long enough to know who their
neighbors were.
Throughout the evening, the physical
comedy remains (except for a few slow spots) head-spinningly speedy, and pretty
funny, as the wigs, dresses and other accouterments fly. This may not be your
cup of comedy; but if you like it raucous and irreverent; low-brow on high
themes; loopy, goofy and loony (are those an alternate three stooges? Or were
those 3 dwarves???), then Get to Class (or the Coach is gonna give it to ya'!)
THE DATING
GAME
She seems to
be looking for love in all the wrong places. Man # 1, 2, 3 and 4 are all
dreadfully wrong for her. She's attracted by the Bad Boy (but takes a tumble
with a Bad Girl, too) and gets her heart broken repeatedly. Various mates have
various traits, some good, mostly damaging or dangerous. None is relationship
material. And then, there's the dancing question.
Dorinne
Kondo's "But Can He Dance?" is a cute, clever exploration of the
singles scene from the perspective of one Asian woman (named, archetypically,
She) and the four disastrous men she meets at the onset of the millennium
(named, as noted above, Man 1, 2, 3 and 4). She has Great Expectations (or, as
the RSC-guys put it, 'Great Expectorations') for love and mates and what she
should get or feel, how she should be treated, and how well the other person
dances. She gets to do the horizontal lambada quite a bit in the show, mostly
behind a scrim, bathed in red light, in a wild assortment of outrageous
positions, in Anne Tran's clever staging of the show for Asian American
Repertory Theatre. There isn't a great deal of new ground broken, but we do get
to view the dating world through the eyes of a person of color, who hooks up
with an angry, literate, alcoholic black man, an irresistible but irresponsible
Latin lover, and a nice-guy Asian nerd. None of them lives up to her hopes or
needs, some of them are downright abusive. But she, like most of us, keeps up
the blindness to self and others. This is really a story of self-deception and
honesty. Until truths are confronted and told, progress can't be made. Okay,
not too profound, but very well done.
Set designer
Dave Weiner has reconfigured the Playhouse on Plaza (Lamb's Players' original
space in National City) so it's 3-sided rather than being arena seating, fully
in the round. Lighting designer Kurt Doemelt follows the action with pin-spots
and other little highlights of a scene here, an interaction there, and ghostly
appearances of ex-lovers over there. The former partners serve as conscience,
Greek chorus and four-headed, bespectacled shrink, forcing She to take a long
hard look at her past and her present, so she can get on with her future. The
dialogue is snappy, playing into stereotypes and then smashing them. It's an
enjoyable romp, replete with the titular dancing, thanks to choreographer/stage
manager Annette Nixon.
San Diego
newcomer Tiffany Loui is extremely agile, emotionally and physically; I hope we
all get to see her on other stages soon, and often. Susan Hammons does a fairly
convincing guy and a scary dominatrix; G. Madison, IV is spot-on as the African
American writer with a 'tude and a drinking problem; Juan Manzos is seductive
as the salsa king who loves 'em and leaves 'em (but not before he dances with
'em). Jeff Lorezco is aptly sympathetic as the Asian Nice Guy (who of course,
finishes last). Nobody gets the girl; but she gets back her sense of self, and
though there's no happy ending, there's a strong whiff of personal power and
optimism. Smart people, foolish choices; we've all been there (some are still
there). Go see "But Can He Dance?" Maybe you'll pick up a few
pointers.
DICHOTOMOUS
DANCES
In
"Sacred and Profane," choreographer John Malashock paints stage pictures
with all the contrast colors in his creative palette. The thematic
juxtapositions comprise a 15-year anniversary celebration of projects old and
new. It's a wonderful, refreshing evening of dance, as the ever-inventive
Malashock taps into his whimsy, his humor, his depth and his dark side. The
works careened back and forth, from sunlight to shadows.
The opener
is the Dance Suite from "Blessings and Curses" (winner of a Patté
Award in 2000). The text spoken by actors brought other layers and gradations
to the original, but the soulful Jewish folk-tale of a weaver losing her sight
and finding inner vision still has the power to inspire. The most striking
segment is the biblical tale of Abraham and Isaac, the anguished father
(Michael Mizerany) forced to sacrifice his naïve and trusting son (Jake Fry) to
demonstrate his faith. The paternal agony and grief are palpable; the youthful
innocence is heart-breaking. And in the background, the tortured women wait and
wring their hands.
Next up is the new dance-film, "The Soul
of Saturday Night," set to the Tom Waits album of the same name. The
highly professional, imaginative, delectably gritty production, choreographed
by Malashock and directed by John Menier (of UCSD-TV), tells the tale of two
couples meeting late at night on the seamy side of town, coupling and
uncoupling in steamy scenes, falling in and out of bed, love,
ardor and angst. One pair
is all gossamer, soft light and romance; the other's moves are angular, angry,
ambivalent, aggressive. Filmed around San Diego, from Santa Fe Station to the
Aero Club and the Pickwick Hotel, the short film is a splendid collaboration,
worthy of a broad audience.
Malashock's
at his very best when he works from his personal/cultural history or mines his
quirky humor. When he ventures into the more ethereal and esoteric realms, the
results are often less stirring and accessible. But at one moment in the world
premiere, "I and Thou," the
otherworldly music of John Tavener is wonderfully counterbalanced by the dancers'
percussive noises and rhythms,
suggestive of people's efforts to take some control in a capricious world.
The evening
ends with the delicious "Love and Murder," a 1998 work whose musical
backdrop, the Murder Ballads (and other songs) of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds,
embodies the dichotomous nature of the evening; melodic, sweet or lilting
rhythms describe brutal, deadly acts. Love becomes violent and vicious. Through
the dance, the contrasts are highlighted and the humor shines through. Perfect
end to a delightful evening that explores the intricate, enigmatic nature of us
all.
THE 'DON'T MISS' LIST
Malashock's "Sacred and
Profane" -- wonderful array of dances, old and
new, whimsical and serious, lofty and low-down; at the Museum of Contemporary
Art in La Jolla through November 9
"Homebody/Kabul" -- well worth the trip to L.A…. Tony Kushner is the genius -- and
conscience -- of the American theater; politics, humor and introspection, beautifully
done in this Steppenwolf production; at the Mark Taper Forum through November 9
"The Boys Next Door" -- wonderful performances, touching and often humorous play; at
Lamb's Players Theatre; EXTENDED through November 23
"Annie Get Your Gun" -- delightful production with two great leads and wonderful
costumes; at the Lawrence Welk Resort Theatre, through November 8
"Beehive" -- one of San Diego's longest-running musical hits, is closing
soon; all those great girl-group songs; irresistible! At the Theatre in Old
Town, through January 4 only.
It's awhile till Turkey Day, but after
all we've been through, it's high time to give thanks for what we've (still)
got.
©2003
Patté Productions Inc.