Theater as a Place to Be

21-year-old Devin Weil would rather be in the audience than on the stage
BY PAUL BIRCHALL

 

 

 

 

We’ve been told often enough that theater is for older people – or, worse, that young people don’t appreciate or understand the joys of the theater.  To those folks, who usually seldom go to a play themselves, Devin Weil offers the most eloquent rebuttal one can imagine.  Devin, 21, a recent graduate in Spanish Literature from Occidental College, is someone whose sophisticated and mature passion for theater belies her youthful appearance.

 

 

As part of the Stage Raw outreach program in which a young theatergoer is invited to accompany a veteran critic to a show, I interviewed Ms. Weil, whose obvious enthusiasm for theater-going is a kind of reassurance that theater can still be for everyone — even in Los Angeles.

 

 

I had been warned by the publicist of the show we’d been assigned to, City Garage’s Production of Maria Irene Fornes’s The Conduct of Life, that the play was a little dark and sometimes difficult to watch, the result of a story (set in some unnamed Latin American country ) that included acts of rape and torture.  I warned Devin of this and offered to book on to a different show if she’d prefer -– but she would have none of it.  “I love challenging theater!” she noted.

 

 

Primarily, however, her enthusiasm for theater can be traced to her mother’s enthusiasm for it, and to attending theater, often, while growing up.

 

 

 

“I was brought up in New York,” Devin explained, “And my mom really, really loved the theater.  I grew up going to the theater all the time – I’d see theater every weekend!  They were usually shows that my mother thought were interesting -– the small stuff . . . But every weekend I’d go to a show with mom.”

 

 

 

 

Although Devin appeared in a few plays in high school, she quickly realized she was not a performer.  “Acting always seemed like just a hobby and what I really wanted to do was just to see theater.”

 

 

The transition to Los Angeles, when she moved out here to go to college, was a game-changer.

 

 

“I really got to know LA over the past four years.  Learning a new city was kind of an adventure,” says Devin.  And, indeed, in addition to her studies at Occidental College, Devin has worked a variety of unusual gigs – “I was a delivery driver for a juice company. That took me all over the city, from the Hollywood Hills to Studio City, to Echo Park.”

 

 

Devin is also assisting with writing a book:  “I’m working with a chef, helping him create a cook book about Mexican-Kosher food.”

 

 

A former volunteer at the Los Angeles Film Festival, which dovetails nicely with her enjoyment of movies – old movies, she explains: “I’m a Turner Classics kind of girl.”

 

 

The pre-show conversation quickly devolved into a list of favorite shows she’d seen, which encompassed an unexpected variety of works of different types.  “I remember seeing a great Barefoot in the Park . . . and, yeah, that Hedda Gabler with that woman from Weeds [Mary-Louise Parker].  That was crazy. talk about dark! I guess I’m an old fashioned person. I’m an old soul!

 

 

Devin approached her theater visit to City Garage with excitement and the self-evident delight of someone who just enjoys the theater as a place to be.

 

 

The Conduct of Life

Reviewed by Devin Weill
City Garage
Through August 17

 

 

 

 

Maybe the trifecta of the 76 gas station turkey sandwich, full moon, and repeated rape sequences on stage were the perfect marriage to make my stomach have difficulty digesting, or maybe the subtle sounds radiating from my stomach came as a result of the intense BUTI yoga class I took earlier that afternoon. Either way I had a strong visceral reaction to Maria Irene Fornes’s The Conduct of Life at City Garage.

 

 

Before the full throttle theatrics, I met Frederique Michel, the French redheaded miniskirt-donning femme fatale who directed the play. She warned Paul and me with the simple remark, “It’s tough” that accompanied a slight chuckle.

 

 

Placed in a sofa in the last row of a small theater (maybe 50 seats at most), Paul and I had a bird’s-eye view of the three realms represented on stage: the upstairs attic, the living room, and the basement (or at least that’s how I interpreted the layout). The only sound that accompanied the voices of the characters in between scenes was a clanging-of-iron-working-at-a-rail-yard type sound.

 

 

The first image ingrained in my mind is of Orlando (George Villas), the lieutenant—his militant aura, rigid movements, and mini monologue where he announces, “The goal is to eliminate all obstacles . . . maximum power is the ultimate ideal.” Those words seem to paint the pain and pleasure paradox that haunts Orlando.

 

 

Orlando’s “obstacles” come in the form of the three women in the play: Olimpia (Nicole Gerth), the maid; Leticia (Kristina Drager), Orlando’s wife; and Nena (Nili Rain Segal), the orphan girl he holds hostage and rapes repeatedly. Olimpia offers some comic relief to the otherwise dark, difficult drama with her sassy remarks and obvious faint friendship and loyalty towards Leticia and her role as a comforting mother figure to Nena. Leticia comes off as a foolish woman trapped to the confines of the house but she also seems to be simultaneously scheming her escape with dreams of going to university, becoming educating, and changing the world. Nena is a trembling puppy dog, a shell of a person. What seems most evident is that the strength and fortitude of Orlando is a veneer hiding the destroyed person he truly is. Like Nena, he is an orphan, without a home, a shivering puppy dog whimpering for help. Orlando’s desire to destroy only further destroys him, leaving him powerless. The Conduct of Life grapples with the common paradigm of male domination and female submission. But the play subverts that theme with Orlando because his hubris shines brighter than any physical strength he possesses and ultimately destroys him.

 

 

City Garage, Building T1 at Bergamot Station Arts Center, 2525 Michigan Ave, Santa Monica; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.;  Sun., 5 p.m.; through Aug. 17.  citygarage.org.

 

 

Also, read Paul Birchall’s review.