The Homecoming (review)

 

Spoilers ahoy!

Tiny confession.  Although having heard of it for years, up until now I had neither read nor seen The Homecoming by the late, great Harold Pinter.  Hence this was an intense treat, to see a play of this caliber for the first time, done by a theatre company on this level...I feel buzzed in the aftermath.

In many ways, the premise (in terms of plot or situation, anyway) is simple, in terms of the play's period, the 1960s, almost cliche.  Teddy (Taylor Lee Marr), a philosophy professor in some American university, returns home to his North London working class home after six years.  This home consists of nothing but four men--Max (Troy Dunn) a cantankerous retired butcher now walking with a cane, his other two sons Lenny (Adam Langsam) who gives off a strange air--one that we eventually realize is "Pimp"--and Joey (Carey Cannata), the youngest in so many ways with hopes of becoming a boxer, and finally Sam (David E. Frank) Max's younger brother who works as a chauffeur.  Teddy arrives without warning in the middle of the night, bringing with him a wife, Ruth (Angela Beyer), about whom no one is his family has any clue at all.

She seems to be the first woman in this house, since the death of Jessie, Max's wife and the boys' mother.  

A lot of things become instantly obvious.  First, this house simmers with tension, unresolved and possibly unresolvable.  Every word it seems is a weapon, or a shield.  Secrets are everywhere, their presence increasingly loud, their specific nature remaining elusive.  

Second, what is true of one home seems utterly true (albeit in a totally different flavor) of the "home" which is Teddy and Ruth's marriage.  We sense instantly here is something afoot, which grows more obvious by the breath.  For several moments in the play I wondered if Ruth had been hired to pretend to be Teddy's wife.  While I dismissed that idea pretty quickly, by now the idea seems more likely--on Ruth was in effect "hired" when she and Teddy did get married six years ago.  Here is not a happy marriage.

Whose homecoming is this?  Teddy's obviously.  But we learn Ruth used to live near here, so might it not be hers as well?  The men of this house begin becoming more obviously themselves, a cascade effect from the introduction of Ruth.  So, one could say they are also coming home, home to themselves.  Little truths spill out.  How Lenny hates being called Leonard, evidently because his mother called him that.  Hints of abuse by Max are sprinkled throughout.  People keep talking about an old friend of Max, and Sam ends up spewing a BIG secret about him.  Joey almost turns infantile by the end.  

Throughout, words rarely reveal anything.  They hint, and tease, deceive and accuse, but hardly anything of import is ever stated clearly.  Everything, every sentence and phrase and word, is an act of combat, or a negotiation.  Life as warfare.  Or, as high stakes poker.  

And this cast, under the direction of Frederique Michel, makes every glance or smile or silence work exactly the same way.  The experience proves eerie, fascinating, a little bit disgusting, often quite funny, and it crawls under one's skin.  I should mention I know about half the cast reasonably well, yet looking at them on stage during this performance I did not see the men and woman I know.  I saw Ruth and Max, Sam and Lenny, Joey and Teddy.

Bravo.

The Homecoming plays Fridays and Saturdays 8:00pm, Sundays at 4:00pm through June 15, 2025 at City Garage, Bergamot Station, T1 Space, 2525 Michigan Ave Santa Monica, CA 90404

Blood Alley (review)

Spoilers ahoy!

I imagine when theatre goers hear the name "Zombie Joes" among the things coming to mind are words like "edgy" "dark" "disturbing".  More than anything else, this demonstrates a success in marketing a brand.  ZJU remains open and producing original works for decades.  One reason is that very success in letting the audience know what to expect.

At the same time, Blood Alley offers us an example of taking that brand to the extreme.  Even more than the company's (often brilliant, certainly wildly popular) signature show Urban Death, this one pushes boundaries.  I've often called theatre at this venue "theatre of dreams" because it captures a sense of watching/participating in a dream.  Sometimes those dreams are nightmares.

This one certainly qualifies as a nightmare.  Lots of nightmares.  So much so I feel trigger warnings might be appropriate.  Anyone who has recently been the victim of any violence, especially sexual violence, might want to reconsider seeing this work. It aims to disturb, with all the power of a Dionysian ritual in Ancient Greece--and succeeds!

Credit: ZJU

Much of what the (fearless) cast produces under the direction of Zombie Joe gets under your skin.  Sometimes for reasons obvious, but other times strangely covert. Distortion, fear, a sense of decadence or subtle madness permeate many of the vignettes making up the experience.  In fact there's relatively little actual violence enacted during the hour-long performance.  What we do see is often brief, but vivid.

Sometimes it is also very simple.  Like the suitcase.  You'll find out what I mean if you go.

Or just a turnabout in ways we don't expect--a weirdly un-erotic fully nude dance which involves distortion, first by a lovely woman then a fairly handsome young man. 

Fortunately there's also some humor.  A good thing, because some release from the tension was frankly needed.  Part of the humor arose from musician Kevin Van Cott as a policeman (interestingly, outfitted as a London Bobby) who is freaking out over what he's seen or heard of this place--Blood Alley.  As far as the title goes, I immediately thought of Harry Potter's Diagon Alley but where all the dark things go and fester, where fears and neuroses scuttle amid the shadows and debris, and hungers we don't like to admit we feel emerge.

Credit: ZJU

To give an example of what this show entails, it contained the most harrowing rape I've ever seen on stage.  What made it most powerful was how Ian Heath in effect assaulted Charlotte Bjornbak via telekinesis or remote control.  They never even touched!  But my own flesh crawled.

And likewise it proved fascinating whenever the performance ventured into sexuality--be it lesbian make-out session or the strutting of some artfully posing streetwalkers (Daniel Palma, Elif Savas, Allison Fogarty, and Cassie Carpenter) that sexuality never ventures into the erotic.  Sex without pleasure, or even the hint of pleasure!

Credit: ZJU

Theatre of Nightmares.  As in waking up in a cold sweat...

I don't want to describe any more of what happens, since that might rob this amazing show of its impact, but let again praise the very brave performers--especially those not yet mentioned by name:  Liliane Laborde-Edozien, Kelly Powers,  Adam Shows,  and Alex G-Smith.  An excessively brave cast this!

Blood Alley plays at 11pm Fridays and Saturdays until April 9, 2016 at Zombie Joes, 4850 Lankershim Blvd. (just south of the NoHo sign) North Hollywood CA 91601.