Neill Fleming and members of the audience (Photo by Chelsea Curtis)
Reviewed by Deborah Klugman
The Speakeasy Society and Order/Fire Productions at Rita House
Through November 16
RECOMMENDED
In restaurant parlance, a “family meal” is a special meal served after hours to the employees of a restaurant. The fare is usually different from what is commonly served on the restaurant’s menu, and the idea behind the event is that everyone at the table is part of one big supportive family.
This notion may or may not be behind the titling of Family Meal, an immersive theatrical event currently on offer at Rita House on West Third Street in L.A. A collaboration between The Speakeasy Society (which specializes in staging immersive events) and chef Ben Baron, Family Meal caters to the palates of discriminating foodies with a fancy multicourse dinner elegantly prepared and served. But the meal is but one aspect of this experience; it’s also at the core of a family melodrama, with (at least as billed) the audience participating in the future rise or fall of a high-end restaurant whose chef is about to retire.
The overall conceit is that attendees are privileged guests — food writers and critics —in the home of Chef Landwald (Neill Fleming), a luminary who is retiring after 30 notable years in the world of haut cuisine. (In an introductory spiel, guests are asked to show respect for their host’s property by neither touching nor moving any of the objects on display.) To mark his retirement, the chef is hosting a dinner party for friends and fans. Far from wholly celebratory, the event is marked by tension and high drama, as the chef’s three progeny compete to be the sole heir to the restaurant and its legacy.
The competitors include first-born Jozef (Chris Mollica), a guy who doesn’t mind letting the whole world know how he feels about things — and this evening what he’s feeling is rage and bitter disappointment that what he assumed would be coming to him actually may go to one of his siblings. Then there’s Anna (Claire Chappeli), beautiful and chilly and not afraid to show her dad how much she resents him; and finally Firas (Zan Headley), an adopted son with an understated mien and the only one whom you think might actually know how to cook. Two additional characters are woven into the drama, both longtime restaurant associates: Shiloh (Emily Faris) the establishment’s superbly poised and impeccably mannered manager and hostess, and Byron (Alexander Demers), a dedicated sous chef who’s been with the establishment from the beginning but who, in the course of the evening, runs precipitously afoul of his ill-tempered tyrannical employer.
The setup is hardly new: it bears semblance to Succession, with its greedy, ugly-spirited cast of family members — but with a narrative thread drawn from myriad movies and series that feature mercurial chefs who rule their kitchens with a wounding tongue and an iron fist. Three writers — Jenny Curtis, Chris Porter and Bryan Tarver — are credited for a script that appears to be (at least from what I could tell from one-on-one interacting with the actors in character) partially improvised. The show has a flexible format — there’s a banquet style dining room and then there are adjacent spaces where, at intervals, guests adjoin with the characters for up-close interactions. A certain critical indulgence is in order: This isn’t Shakespeare, Shaw or Shepard; it’s immersive theater in L.A. in 2025, and it’s meant to be fun. Still, the storytelling could use finessing — more original plot points, more vivid anecdotal detail about past relationships and a less ambiguous denouement.
The direction is shared by Curtis, Genevieve Gearhart and Julianne Just, while the performances, mostly solid, differ in tone, from the broad and conspicuously over the top histrionics of Mollica’s Jozef (so ludicrously out there that you have to laugh, and likely are meant to) to the restrained naturalism of Headley’s Firas — a choice that makes you root for him. As Anna, Chappeli looks and behaves like the spoiled, wealthy, shallow “princess” the story calls for, while Fleming’s angry booming voice and pronounced stage presence immediately defines his character as the man to be reckoned with. Demers’s Byron is the latter’s nervous, neurotic opposite, while Faris, a fountain of aplomb, is almost intimidating as the cool, controlling mistress of the evening’s mise en scene.
The sit-down dinner follows cocktails (which this critic did not imbibe) accompanied by an extremely tasty hors d’oeuvre. During cocktails, guests mingle with the cast. (I myself was accosted by Anna, who declared she was sure we had met at a recent charity event for pets.) Once at table, it’s a five-course deal, not including a chocolate cake dessert (okay but not a wow) which is served in the cocktail alcove before you exit.
The presentation is upscale, but with favorites and non-favorites among the offerings, at least three of which are supposed to be the creation of one of the competing siblings. The third course, a green peppercorn Caesar salad, is a standout — crisp mixed lettuces, of varying hues, a touch of lemon, fried garlic, roasted pumpkin and blood orange — a superb juxtaposing of contrasting flavors, all of which hold their own yet combine into a delectable whole. Also quite yummy is a croquette with potato, creamy blue cheese and a red walnut tapenade. The fourth course is a distinctive “donut,” a pastry described as made from Hungarian fried bread, with black garlic chevre, and a super-intense pink peppercorn caramel sauce. The lead-in course, two small roasted beets and caviar in a pool of cultured cream, makes less of an impression, with the taste of caviar, to my pallet, somewhat obscure. The fifth most substantial course, duck breast bordelaise, is chewy and pink at the center, for me an expensive misfire, though it disappeared from other plates. (Note: a vegetarian menu is also available.)
Wine pairings are extra.
The decor goes a long way towards making the event feel exclusive, with lit candles, a faded upholstered ceiling two floors high, and a staircase with a wrought iron banister, rising to a balcony above the main dining area. Production designer Hannah Lewis decks the dining hall in earthy tones and a smattering of bamboo. In other rooms, visual art and faux objets d’art lend an air of discretionary wealth. Designer Ian Momii’s soft lighting wraps an aura of illusion around this getaway evening.
Rita House, 5971 W. 3rd St., LA. Fri.-Sun.; thru Nov. 16. https://www.speakeasysociety.com/family-meal Runtime: approximately 3 hours with no intermission.
