Blacktop Highway

Reviewed by Paul Birchall
Odyssey Theatre Ensemble 
Through December 15

RECOMMENDED

A comic work of gothic horror, where madness flows like fine wine, performed by one of L.A.’s finest and most legendary subversive artists? The only thing you should say if offered the opportunity to see this is, yes, please!

This wonderful, outlandish solo work by the brilliant John Fleck should not be missed. Here, characters don masks made from human flesh peeled off hapless victims — and then they sing opera. A woman whose son is both her child and her sibling battles her brutish brother-lover. And a revolution perpetrated by crazed animals results in bloodshed and terror. It’s all assayed with cunning stagecraft and a fearlessness that is winningly enthusiastic.

A man steals a fortune, but his getaway car winds up stranded on an isolated rural highway in Maine, on a road inexplicably festooned with animal carcasses. His journey takes him to an isolated mansion — a sign on the door states that the manor is a combination veterinary clinic and taxidermy studio — and a crazy old woman grudgingly offers him hospitality for the night. She locks him in a room, where at first it seems he’ll be safe. But some “thing” gets into the room and commits a horrific atrocity on the gentleman. And that’s just the start: Before long, incest, monsters and lust consume all the characters like napalm.

Director Randee Trabitz’s production is occasionally suffused with quirky camp — but that doesn’t undermine the show’s mood of genuine unease, conjured by the sheer weirdness of the work and its sensibility. There’s also the sheer inventiveness of the presentation, with Fleck portraying all the characters, from the crazed old biddy to her monstrous child to the horrid brother/dad. And the piece is enhanced by a panoply of striking video effects (credited to Heather Fipps). One character confronts another on screen — or a scene from a character’s childhood will play out, replete with sequences of debauched behavior (in one instance, a character smears her underpants with butterscotch, echoing John Waters’ early movies).

Amidst the hilarious horror, there are commentaries from Fleck, who appears on video as a snooty professor analyzing the mad carryings-on. A pause midway through the show for a brief audience discussion hints at a deeper meaning to the work.

Is Blacktop Highway a cheesy work of Grand Guignol, or is it a depiction of our fragmented nature? Is it a metaphor for some kind of artistic process? Fleck’s smartly timed, perfectly pitched performance, filled with craziness, fun, and wisdom, keep us guessing. It’s a real pleasure to see something as compelling and fresh as this wonderfully odd work.

Odyssey Theatre, 2055 S. Sepulveda Blvd., West Los Angeles; Wed.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; through Dec. 15. (310) 477-2055 or https://odysseytheatre.com. Running time: 80 minutes with no intermission.