Richard III (review)

Spoilers ahoy!

Fair is fair. Let me begin by noting that Shakespeare's play Richard III is one of my favorites. Hence I bear quite a number of opinions on the subject--what is going on, how to view the characters, its strengths and weaknesses, etc. This cannot help but color my review.

That acknowledged, Zombie Joe's production of this play left me with some profoundly mixed feelings.

Begin with the text. As per standard operating procedure at ZJU, this three-hour-plus script ended up streamlined to one third that length. No bad thing, it seems to me. Richard III, an early play by Shakespeare, tends to seem overlong, especially to American audiences with less than a far-above-average knowledge of English history. Even the recent discovery of Richard's bones probably did little to change that. Besides, the sheer number of characters and the complexity of the relationships is so vast, I can but applaud practical efforts to make the play an easier experience. Had Shakespeare written the play later in life, it would frankly be a better and less cluttered script. Probably shorter as well.

But as far as I can tell, the editor in this case focused on hitting the high points of the plot. This effort works very well for some plays. It certainly did when the same director seemed to use this approach for her award-winning Hamlet last year and her thoroughly delightful Much Ado About Nothing a few months past! However, Richard III is (at least in my view) primarily a character piece--a portrait of this villain who shared all his thoughts and schemes with the audience. In effect, he makes them his co-conspirators. The plot per se is not only secondary, but almost tertiary. To work, we need to see Richard first and foremost, see and share his experience of events.

One result of this approach proved to be confusion. Major characters ended up cut, so they respective deaths impacted us not at all. Yet my companion that evening simply could not keep track of them all. She walked away with plenty of erroneous ideas of what happened. I myself lost track of who was who and what just happened, yet I know the play very well!

This approach involved stripping away nearly all nuance from the central character. Elizabethan theatre abounded with plays about Richard. He was their equivalent of Hannibal Lecter! Yet we only produce Shakespeare's version today. Why? Because in this one, he's a human being as well as a monster. He's a man who says "Love foreswore me in my mother's womb." (Olivier added this line from an earlier history play, but the words did come from Richard).  Likewise he wakes from nightmares of his victims and in the dead of night, gives voice to the bitter self awareness that he can find no pity in himself even for himself. (Ian McClellan cut this speech to the bone, but pointed did retain it). All these tiny glimpses of the man he might have been--gone. So the reason for the full title--The Tragedy of Richard III--gone. He isn't a tragedy. He's just an evil jerk.

Photo Credit: Zombie Joe

And yet...

W. Lochridge O'Bryan portrays Richard and Anna Gillcrist Lady Anne (right) is what is in many ways THE scene. Known as the "wooing of Lady Anne" this scene makes one long to see more interactions between the characters.

Honestly, it rarely works. Finding a way to justify how Richard persuades Anne to even consider him--he just interrupted the public funeral procession of her father in law, whom he murdered!--poses quite a challenge. I have my own theories. This production made a choice I've never seen before. And it worked so very, very well! This is what always hopes for in going to see a play already known! Something new and wonderful!  Going back to the history, that Anne and Richard grew up together as children, I could see the history there. More, I could see a reaction to Richard that Anne tried desperately to control--namely, that she found him intensely attractive! That the whole production didn't use this utterly wonderful piece of irony frustrated me no end! The fact they did it at all, however, was worth going in and of itself!

But really, kudos to those two in the highest caliber!

Photo Credit: Zombie Joe

O'Bryan unfortunately (and the cuts in the script did not help) fell into a trap. A common trap, with all acting and to some degree with acting Shakespeare. Several members of the cast fell into the same one. They chose to play exactly one emotion, pretty much throughout. Some of them could do it quite well! Sarah Fairfax as Queen Elizabeth (the famous Elizabeth's great grandmother) does worried nicely. But for most of the play that is all she did, until near the end when she gave us a very good example of fear. Multi-layered fear at that. But O'Bryan spent something like two-thirds of his stage time angry--nearly always a bad choice (this rule of thumb got hammered into me at the National Shakespeare Conservatory and I've zero reason to doubt it). Frankly, when he wasn't foaming at the mouth and almost screaming his Richard proved riveting. His kind words to Clarence, the scene in which he woo'd Lady Anne, his own terror during and after the nightmare before battle--this flashes of humanity made me want to see him again.

But for the most part his Richard seemed a one-note thug. Not, I'm convinced, from lack of talent. In several other roles actors I've seen before--Tyler McAuliffe and Kirby Anderson (excellent in Sculptress of Angel X)--fell into the same bad habits many do when confronted with Shakespeare. Unnatural body language is one (the overuse of hands is a dead giveaway) while another is acting out what they're talking about. Oh dear. And throughout, most of the cast grabbing a single emotion and holding on to it for dear life through all that iambic pentameter.

But again, there were flashes in most of the cast of real quality. Only in the wooing of Lady Anne did it prove consistent, however. For that scene at least I was pleased to have gone. But for the most part I don't think this was up to the standards established by this director in her previous two Shakespeare productions.

Richard III plays at Zombie Joe's Underground Theatre Group at 4850 Lakershim Blvd, North Hollywood CA 91606 Fridays at 8:30pm and Sundays at 7pm until June 16, 2013. You can make reservations at (818) 202-4120

The Shawl (review)

Spoilers ahoy!

At the corner of Heliotrope and Melrose stands a venue called the Moth Theatre. Turns out to be a little startling. One has to look for it! But in the end one can find it--through the alley in back. Nicely, there's parking!

Even more nicely, there's a production of David Mamet's The Shawl underway. Not one of Mamet's best known plays, but something of a gem. The company decided to do something interesting in this case--switching the genders of the characters.

So instead of a Miss A we get a Mr. A (Ryan Surratt, who also directed). He goes to see a spiritualist named Joan (Lili Bordan) in the wake of his mother's death, finding himself astonished with what she seems to know of him. Originally "Joan" was John, a middle aged man trying to keep his younger lover Charles--in this version a young woman called Charlie (Liz Guest).

What we see as the play unfolds is how belief shapes life, not simply in the way we see what we with to see. No, something far more complex. Because when we disagree on belief, what are we left with? More, what happens when facts seemingly contradict what we believe--or at least what we long to believe? Consider--a man with unresolved issues. Permanently unresolved, now that his mother has died. But he does not confront the real issues. Rather, he aims for a different question, asking a medium for an answer from his mother--not what he really wants to know, but what he pretends matters most.

Now consider the medium. Who is a fraud. Or at least has all the skills of a fraud. Yet she evidently has real ethics, considers her tricks and skills in service of something honest, something good.

But she'll break those rules to keep a young lover. Someone who only recently came into her life. And that someone--she'll make demands, flatly refuse to show patience, yet turn out to have her own set of longings. She too wants to believe.

In what?

Therein lies the rub. Because Mamet, like Chekhov, writes with deep and complex subtext. The play only works when and if the cast dive into the complex hints and nuances of these characters--these contradictory, extremely human characters--and bring them to life on stage.

Which is precisely what happens in The Shawl. In theater convention, there's an idea called "the well made play" in which all the plot points are hit, the formulaic complexities and climaxes and unveilings unfold in a measured, workable pattern. This play doesn't do that. It is too real to fit into such a structure. Given the sheer number of stylistic plays I've been seeing lately, it was honestly rather refreshing to watch human beings simply talk on stage, each wanting so much and trying to hide it, as we as a species in this society are wont to do.

This cast dove in and dove deep. Nothing in the text gives anyone but Mr. A--the least important of the three--anything like a specific backstory. Yet Joan and Charlie carried their pasts with them when they came on stage. Each portrayed the emotional habits of a lifetime, habits that brought them together. This might easily have been an ordinary crime drama. If so, the plot would have been simple enough. Either Mr. A is conned or not. If conned, who gets the money? If not, do the criminals escape and/or remain loyal to one another? But The Shawl is not a crime drama, although it remains a drama surrounding what is technically a crime.

But again, close to nothing without actors doing it right. Mediocre performances are the equivalent of singing an entire song off key. We'll all seen these.

Bordan gives the bulk of the lines, which often come across as the verbal equivalent of hand-waving. Yet she also tries to tell people something, something real. That she does it with lies, or the habit of half-truths at least, leaves us with a very complex emotional reaction at the end. We still want to believe. Indeed, I still felt it quite possible she's a real medium at the end. Whether she believes it or not. But then, who's to say my belief is any more valid than hers? Save that I (and the audience) share much of Guest's character's world view, at least in terms of this person and this specific situation. Guest (and Surratt) both masterfully commit one of the greatest skills any actor can show--listening. And, like real human beings, they listen with agendas. How can they not?

Well, actually, plenty of actors do not. But these three do, and the emotional fabric of what they weave on that stage wraps us up in a story we only partially understand.

Like a shawl.

The Shawl plays at Moth Theater Thursdays, Fridays,and Saturdays at 8pm until May 31, 2013. The address is 4359 Melrose (at Heliotrope) Los Angeles CA 90029.

Hemophelia's House of Horrors (review)

Spoilers ahoy!

Some of us with Halloween were every day. Or every month at least. Hemophelia's House of Horrors is a comedy variety show aimed squarely at that precise audience.

Hemophelia (Lara Fisher) is our hostess, the love child of Elvira Mistress of the Dark and Hannibal Lecter. She introduces a series of sketches dealing with typical light-hearted fare. Children contemplating the murder of their mother. A Twilight Zone-esque tale of a lout who meets a bosom  he cannot handle. Torture. Mass death. That kinda thing.

To be honest, it was a mixed bag. Was it funny? Yes. Was it entertaining and clever and very much worth my time? Beyond doubt! But it did feel a tad under-rehearsed. Sometimes one could see the humor hovering at one level when it could have easily gone higher (and funnier) with a little work. Indeed, the first sketch proved a case in point. Without going into too many details it all came down to a babysitter telling a tall tale to get her little charges to shut up and go to bed. It all spirals out of control from there. It worked (indeed set a nicely comic and macabre tone for the whole show) but with a little more work it could have been hilarious.

That held true throughout. Never once was I bored or felt un-entertained. But I've seen better from the Visceral Company, who've created something of a high bar for themselves. Then again, I watched the show on opening night, complete with the traditional jitters. In fact, my own guess is the ensemble and their sketches will keep improving. Already HHOH (I like to imagine this pronounced as "H'hoe") makes for a very nice blend of SCTV and a slew of horror movies. Given a chance, I'd gladly see it again!

Special mention should go to the delightful "Habeas Corpus" bit roughly halfway through. My words cannot do the piece justice, but let us just note the presence of puppets. Leave it at that. Kudos to Jana Wimer who created it.

I also wanted to give a special shout-out to Cloie Wyatt Taylor, not simply for being a good actress (the entire cast did a very good job) but for doing a magnificent job of physical acting in the sketch with the brothers. It was an entirely silent role yet her character came shining through. I note she also doubled as choreographer!

Samm Hill also did a very good job when it came to actually conveying a great deal with his voice. This is a pet peeve of mine, actors who have not mastered their instrument. Well, he has--and it showed itself off best in the last sketch (all about when things go wrong in the middle of a Satanic ritual--don't you HATE it when that happens?) The bit about a surgeon worked less well, but that seems to me an extremely difficult piece to get right. The tone required would probably need a lot more time to nail down (see rehearsal above).

Cynthia Zitter played several parts, of various ages and types, doing them very well. She enjoys a quite interesting and compelling stage presence--one my eyes did not wish to leave.

Matt DeNoto performed as well as wrote and did the songs for the show. His abilities came across as very real and praiseworthy, even in the problematical sketch with Mr. Hill. I especially liked him in the Satanic Ritual sketch (Note for life: Do not reveal to anyone involved in dark magic secrets you don't want them to know. Really.)

Casey Cristensen in truth didn't have a lot to do overall--that is, she didn't really play any of the central roles for the most part. These kinds of parts all too often end up with, well, lesser performers. One the things I so liked about HHOH was how uniformly good the entire ensemble proved to be, including Mis Christensen as well as Brian Prisco.

As for Miss Fisher as Hemophelia, she fulfilled her role admirably, with just the right blend of cute and psycho-horror. She sings quite nicely as well. Her smile and voice remained with me. Still do, in fact.

Hemophelia's House of Horrors plays Fridays and Saturdays at 10:30 pm until June 8, plus special Hollywood Fringe performances Tuesday, June 11, at 8pm and Thursday, June 13, at 10:30pm (No performances May 17-18. Head to the Lex at 6760 Lexington Avenue, Hollywood, 90038 (corner of Lexington and Highland, thereabouts, just north of Santa Monical Blvd).

Kill Me (review)

Spoilers ahoy!

Kill Me as an original play premiered at the Wildclaw Theatre in Chicago. I mention this because when first learning the Visceral Company here in Los Angeles would produce one of their shows, my reaction was excitement! Alas, have never seen Wildclaw. Only read about them. And longed to see one of their productions!

So what is Kill Me all about? Depends. On the most basic level one can say it tells of Cam (Natasha Charles Parker), a troubled young woman who clearly inspires powerful emotions in others. Her lover Grace (Jonica Patella) for all practical purposes fell into Cam's eyes and in a real sense never crawled out. This idea will creep you out while watching the play. I'm just warning you. Likewise Cam's sister Wendy (Angela Stern) continues to feel a shadow or echo across her life, even after years of no contact.

Cam recovers from a short-term coma--one precisely seven days in length from the minute of a car accident to her eyes opening. To the minute. Odd.

Wait.

She claims to have gone...somewhere. Hell maybe. To have somehow encountered bizarre beings, being that altered her in totally unexpected--and surprisingly horrific--way. Cam insists she cannot now die. This notion fills her with horror. Some might find this puzzling. I do not. But if you do, the play spells it out for you. Watching every single person or thing you love decay and vanish over and over over again--such make for the stuff of nightmares. And that is only the beginning.

But is this true? True in the same sense that the 101 Highway is a factual thing? Something we all perceive and therefore agree exists? Or is it true only in terms of what Cam herself believes? Then again, perhaps it is both. Her trauma might just have given her the ability to see what others cannot, which she interprets in her own way, right or wrong (or both). The monsters that haunt and tease and threaten her--we the audience see them. See how they might just be influencing Grace and Wendy (may I add my love of these character names?). And if they are real, what are they, really? Hallucinations given form, the native monsters of the darkest shadows of our minds, eternal horrors that predate time and shall outlive reality--take your pick!

Said monsters have a name in the program, dubbed the Miseries: (right, clockwise) Yanna Fabian is Paranoia, Lamont Webb Angst, Karen Nicole Dread,  and Alexander Price Despair.

As you has hopefully perceived by now (and if the title weren't enough of a clue), Kill Me is a horror story. Written by Scott T. Barsotti, it uses the same fundamental horror that informs such classics as The Haunting or the works of Edgar Allan Poe. Recall that the Robert Wise film, unlike the remake, followed Shirley Jackson in refusing to "explain" what was happening. Just as we never ever really find out what is up with that Raven--whether or not it is even real. Poor Cam perceives a horror that might crack a stronger will than hers. Whether that horror has any origin other than personal issues and a string of seemingly inexplicable coincidences--does it really matter? She feels an abyss yawn within her. We feel it with her. Likewise, whatever the "objective" facts can one doubt that the two women in her life experience a horror of their own? At the very least this girl they love descends into schizophrenia. Part of  what makes this a horror story is that we hope that's all it is! Because we can be no more sure than they are--which ends up the metaphysical equivalent of nails on a chalkboard.

Cam is the central role and Parker captures well her desperation. Not only in the face of what seems happening to her, but the reaction of those around her. She tries to find the words, not to explain, but to convince, and so loses her way with every breath.

Patella has in effect a harder part, simply because her character switches back and forth in time rather more often. Tricky. Made trickier because I'm not quite sure to whom she and Stern are talking. They have the unenviable task of spending much of the play's start talking to the audience rather than another actor. Very tricky. For that reason, the emotional involvement between ourselves and the cast takes longer than any of us would like. However, it gets there. And by the end, we're cringing. Not from any surgery acted out on stage or some revelation of personal darkness. No, this is Grand Guignol of the soul, of the perceptive mind, and we feel a little tug of the metaphysical hook in our own psyches.

The Miseries very nearly are dance performances rather than acting, but that does them insufficient credit. All four command the stage when they appear, leaving fascination and revulsion in their wake. Not at all an easy thing to do!

Kill Me plays at the Visceral Company's new permanent digs, the Lex Theatre 6760 Lexington Avenue, Hollywood, 90038, at Lexington and Highland (a little north of Santa Monica Boulevard), Fridays and Saturdays at 8pm with Sunday matinees at 3pm. The final performance should be June 2, 2013. Highly recommended for adults who enjoy a disturbing, moving piece of theater than invades your awareness.