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.
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2 comments:
HDS, not to be sanctimonious or anything... but it's a dumbass farmer, NOT a dumbass trucker. Keep writing intelligently. Best, WJK.
I sit corrected -- he was driving a tractor, too: I remember now! Thanks for the note! You are absolutely right!
--HDSQ
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