"The Life and Times of Tulsa Lovechild" at the SpyAnts

First things first--yes, this is actually the name of the play. But in all honesty, it's neither about the life nor the times of a woman unfortunately named Tulsa Lovechild. What Greg Owens' play IS is a collection of quasi-caricatures of American types that with its 10-second scenes and frequent location changes (with projected titles) feels like something low-budget found late-night on IFC. There's the committed hippie, the paranoid CIA operative, the wacky immigrant, the dumb-ass trucker, the shallow beauty contestant, the evil preacher-man, the pretty-boy actor, the kid soldier in 'Nam, and let's not forget the side-show freak. It would appear they're all somehow symbolic of the "American Experience", and they all converge on an interstate motel called "Bob's". Even the most three-dimensional character in the piece, Tulsa--the daughter of two hippies-on-the-lam--feels a bit staid in her post-summer-of-love cynicism (OK, more specifically: yes, there is a character by that name, and her story IS the spine of the piece, but the plot really is about 60% concerned with all the other characters).

The play pretends at depth, commenting on war, the government, the death of intellectualism, religion and the nature of celebrity...but kept making me think of "The Love Boat", with its multitude of unrelated plot lines and over-stuffed cast of characters. And this is part of the problem: you're not with any of these characters long enough to really get to know them, and as a result you just can't bring yourself to care about them--at least not enough to sustain you for two hours.

Here's what made me nuts about this evening: the cast was mostly excellent. (Special kudos to Lori Evans Taylor as a thoughtful, believable Tulsa.) Kelly Ann Ford's direction was subtle, smart and made the most out of a tiny playing space--it was, in fact, the standout element of the evening. And the real killer for me: the dialog was terrific and often very funny! But the sum was simply not equal to the parts. It all just felt so wasted on this silly and sometimes sanctimonious road picture--sorry, PLAY--that felt like one man's attempt at being the winking Jack Kerouac for his generation.

Bottom line: C+

'Til next time!
--HDSQ, Jr.

"Betty Garrett--Closet Songwriter" at Theatre West

For anyone unlucky enough to not know who Betty Garrett is: she is a real American musical theatre gem of the old school. To watch her work is an education in how to do it right. I won't list her credits here--just go IMDB her now. Go ahead. Or better still, go to IBDB.com, the Broadway database.

OK? Good.

So it seems not a complete surprise that anyone who would live in a world of music for as long as she has would have tucked away at least a few ditties of her own making. And so she has put together a charming show at venerable Theatre West (which she helped establish many moons ago as a workshop for New York actors wanting to keep their chops up on the TV coast) where she gets to trot out these pieces and explain the whys and wherefores of writing them, cabaret-style.

First the bad news. First, she ain't really a songwriter--she's an amateur in the best sense of the word. What comes out is a fascinating amalgam of American songwriting through the majority of the 20th century. Having been soaked in the stuff, she can't help but have picked up the flavor of everything she has ever come in contact with. So as the evening goes on you hear bits and pieces of every major composer's style, so you can guess when a song was penned, as a result. This one's a little Rogers and Hammerstein, that one's a little Sondheim.... Imagine if Christopher Guest had made a movie about an ol' Broadway hoofer who secretly has been writing show tunes -- this would be the soundtrack. Comedy and all.

Next, sadly, this is Theatre West. In all my years as an LA theatre watcher, I have found Theatre West consistent in its inability to put on a "great" show. They can take great material and make it adequate. They can take second-rate material and mate it as good as it could be. But never "great". And this falls under the latter category. For starters, out of a company of nearly 200 members (according to their program) it seems they can't round up enough of them who can sing (and by "sing" I mean carry a tune well AND act it at the same time) to put together a musically respectable eight-person musical. Of the seven cast in this who weren't Ms. Garrett, really only four made the grade or squeaked by. The direction was solid enough to get the remainders past it, but still: *really???*

Now the good news: it's Betty Garrett! This woman is more entertaining on her worst day than most so-called celebrities on their best. She's not 100% solid on her feet anymore, and her voice has weakened with the years, but the woman knows how to perform! And yeah--the songs aren't great. But they're mostly fun, if a little ham-fisted. And yeah--the rest of the cast sings a lot, which as I stated above results in a very mixed experience. (VERY mixed). But at the end of the night I wasn't sorry I came. And they got to extend their run, so I guess I'm not alone in that.

Bottom line: B-/C+

'Til next time!
--HDSQ, Jr

"The Mystery of Edwin Drood" at The Sacred Fools Theatre Company

After years of watching the development of the Sacred Fools Theatre in LA, I have come to a conclusion. They're the LA Theatre scene's equivalent of Madonna. They aren't brilliant (but certainly not without merit), they are very, VERY ambitious, they don't do heavy stuff, they think very highly of themselves, and they are ingenious at self-promotion. I have gone back to see show after show there--largely due to friends in their productions--and the experience is almost always the same: the place is packed (although usually about half the audience seem to be company members; possible due to the fact that they NEVER cast their shows with a majority of company members,, interestingly); the lobby is nicely set up in a theme to reflect the mainstage show, the show itself (inevitably a critic's pick) can usually be described thus: "bing-bang, flash-smile, wacky-wacky, nudge-nudge, wink-wink, ta-da!", and I walk out entertained...but forgetting what I had done that night the next morning.

Now don't get me wrong: I think it's great that an LA theater has even bother to find a style and really brand themselves. And while I don't love their style, per se, their consistency has garnered them an audience; and in fact when they do fun, light, glossy material they are quite terrific (as opposed to when they try to be heavy. Again, like Madonna, it only ends up laughable).

So to no surprise from me, their version of the flashy, theatrical, and shallow "The Mystery of Edwin Drood" is great fun. Executed with real authority by a terrific cast under the bang-on direction of Douglas Clayton, it had an infinity more going for it that the truly tedious Broadway tour of "Light in the Piazza" this past year at LA's huge Ahmenson Playhouse. For those of you who don't know "Drood" (and I suspect that's most of you) this c-grade musical takes it's title from the name of a book that Charles Dickens was in the middle of writing when he died, thus leaving it unfinished. The as-is story is presented in the "Drood" show as a performance by 18th Century music hall performers (and all that that entails), where we-the-audience take on the role of their audience, if you will. When they get to the last bit Dickens wrote it becomes an audience participation exercise and the performers give the audience options for the inevitable "who done it". When the guilty party for that night is chosen, the cast plays out the last scene for how that version of the story would end. The result is a different show every night.

The effect is all very Brechtian, with the audience constantly being reminded of the fact that they are in a theater watching a show. The flip side of this is that the audience never ends up being able to get caught up in the plot (such as it is) so we're left, frankly, not caring about the characters at all. Not aiding this is a wildly (and widely) styled series of songs, almost none of which you can hum upon one hearing (the exception being one particular number which gets repeated a lot, since, I suspect, the composer/writer/lyricist Rupert Holmes knew from the get-go it would be the only potential hit in the show).

So, substance and a real human emotion are really lacking here. But there is still a lot to love in this production. On top of a wonderful cast and inspired stage and musical direction (this latter by Bill Newlin, with a terrific small ensemble off to one side), the Fools' tight space is used to superb effect, setting up small playing areas in the house, and putting two "box seats" for the audience on stage, which has been turned into an opium den by set designer Joel Daavid. You can not help but have fun with the whole circus of it all!

But like the circus, you might ooh and ahh while you're there...and might not remember much the next day. I didn't. But I had fun while it lasted. B.

Til next time!
--HDSQ, Jr.