Lying with Badgers

Reviewed by Terry Morgan
Native Voices at the Autry
Through March 15 [NOTE: Closed early due to COVID-19]

Los Angeles has many theatrical treasures, from big productions to intimate black box shows, from London and Broadway imports to works of homegrown genius. In the latter category, one of the city’s most unique blessings is Native Voices at the Autry. It’s the only Equity company devoted exclusively to developing and producing works by Native American, Alaska Native and First Nations playwrights — making it a truly original voice in American theater. I’m a fan of Native Voices and generally enjoy its work, but unfortunately this latest production, playwright Jason Grasl’s Lying with Badgers, is uneven in quality.

Asher (Enrico Nassi) is attempting to open a Blackfeet spirit lodge in the woods of Montana in an effort to garner eco-tourism dollars to try and keep corporate interests from developing the land. His romantic partner, Maggie (Rainbow Dickerson), is dubious about the project and even more so about one of their first guests, Crystal (Stephanie Childers), a businesswoman there to “mentor” the project and perhaps approve a loan. Another guest, movie star Tara (Dana Pacheco), is friendlier and more welcome, but the third and most unexpected guest is Asher’s long-absent older brother Russell (Glenn Stanton), whose return not only affects the family but also the spirits of the land itself.

Stanton brings an anguished intensity and casual charm to his role as Russell, blending the serious issues of the play with his own comedic chops, and delivering a performance that is a highlight of the production. Nassi is appealingly awkward as Asher, but he is somewhat challenged by the writing of his character, which flips between well-meaning ineptitude and moral certainty with little transition. Dickerson does solid work as the prickly Maggie, but she is similarly constrained by the writing; her character hits the same note of righteous anger repeatedly over two hours. Childers is effective as the formal and mysterious Crystal, and Pacheco is quite good as the open-hearted and open-minded Tara.

Director Randy Reinholz gets strong work from the ensemble and uses the theatrical space creatively. Faith James’s animal puppets are scruffily adorable, especially a large dog puppet, which Dickerson expertly maneuvers. As playwright, Grasl clearly has talent, but Badgers has problems both architecturally and tonally. Structurally, the play wants to be about modernity vs. tradition and capitalism vs. integrity, with lots of spirituality and a quick hint of tough love. But that tough love might possibly be child abuse; also, the various themes don’t mesh together very well.

Tonally, the inclusion of badger spirit puppets who speak in high-pitched, silly voices, or a fox puppet which is distractingly similar to Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, doesn’t mix well with the serious drama of the story. Jokes such as “oh, the fox-manity!” or a plot point which asks us to accept an instance of auto-cannibalism with a straight face don’t help either.

One can detect a better play in this material given more focused treatment, but unfortunately Lying with Badgers, while enjoyable and well-acted, isn’t quite there yet.

Wells Fargo Theater, Autry Museum of the American West, 4700 Western Heritage Way, Griffith Park; Thurs.-Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat.-Sun., 2 p.m.; through Mar. 15 [NOTE: Closed early due to COVID-19]. www.TheAutry.org/NativeVoices. Running time: approximately two hours and 30 minutes with one intermission.

Human Interest Story

Reviewed by Terry Morgan
The Fountain Theatre
Through April 5 [NOTE: Remaining performances suspended due to COVID-19]

Poverty and homelessness and what to do about them are hardly new matters of concern. King Lear berates his newly-found conscience thus: “Poor naked wretches…how shall your houseless heads and unfed sides…defend you from seasons such as these? O, I have ta’en too little care of this!” Well-meaning people have struggled to grapple with these problems, and yet homelessness in Los Angeles seems worse than ever, while the divide between the rich and poor widens daily. Add to this the demise of the traditional newspaper and you have the valid concerns driving Stephen Sachs’s new play, Human Interest Story. The world premiere production at The Fountain Theatre boasts a talented cast, strong technical credits and good intentions, but unfortunately the play is heavy-handed and unengaging.

Veteran newspaper journalist Andy (Rob Nagle) is pitching his new editor Carl (Matt Kirkwood) a story on a woman who brings soup to homeless people when he’s dumbfounded to learn that he’s being laid off. The paper has been taken over by media mogul Harold Cain (James Harper), and traditional journalism is being given the heave-ho in favor of chasing web hits. In frustration, Andy writes and posts a fake letter from a homeless woman named Jane Doe, who bemoans the current world and threatens to kill herself on the upcoming Fourth of July. This letter becomes a viral sensation, and Andy is besieged by offers to have Doe speak and write more. His dilemma is solved when he meets homeless Betty (Tanya Alexander), who offers to pretend to be Doe so as to pull herself out of her bad situation. But as Andy and Betty are drawn into the national spotlight, what was once a simple fib becomes a complicated and unsustainable deception.

Nagle, one of the most consistently great actors in L.A. theatre, does his best but is stymied by the role as written, which is not a character so much as a viewpoint (that of a hangdog moralist who spends a lot of the time speechifying about newspaper as “sacred text”). Alexander is in the same boat, unfortunately, as she goes from being a person who will gladly do anything to change her situation to a person who spends most of the show angrily denouncing that change. At no time do we see her make a credible transition from one state to the other.

Aleisha Force is quite good as both fellow journalist Megan and the chirpy host of Good Morning St. Louis, bringing a tart humor and energy to her performance. Kirkwood is terrific as multiple shady, morally compromised editors and campaign staffers, excelling in both blunt and subtle moments. Finally, Harper is excellent as Cain, a tyrant in a red Trump power tie. He captures the current villain of our times with intelligence and strength, punching out his lines with impressive vigor and bringing powerful energy to all the scenes he’s in.

Writer/director Sachs might have benefited from another person at the helm to help trim the text — the second act in particular feels like a long stretch of one earnest speech after another. Matthew Hill’s video design is vivid and artfully composed, adding a lot of visual panache to the production. Sachs is clearly a talented writer and has his heart in the right place, but Human Interest Story feels more expository than specific. Characters are described as brilliant writers or moving orators but never demonstrate these talents. A romantic subplot seems shoehorned in and extraneous. Finally, setting this story in the current day, and evincing shock at the gutting of newspapers seems about a decade past freshness, while the over-the-top reverential description of classic journalism as holy scripture takes the play even farther from reality, undermining it further.

There is a lot of talent working in Human Interest Story, and an overriding anguish in the writing about how the country is going wrong — how we, like Lear, have taken too little care.

Unfortunately the play itself is flawed, and whatever message it intends to deliver gets muddled along the way.

The Fountain Theatre, 5060 Fountain Ave., East Hollywood; Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 2 p.m. & 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; Mon., 8 p.m.; through Apr. 5 [NOTE: Remaining performances suspended due to COVID-19]. www.FountainTheatre.com. Running time: approximately two hours and 30 minutes with one intermission.

Earthquakes in London

Reviewed by Terry Morgan
Rogue Machine
Through March 1

RECOMMENDED

The phrase, “Nero fiddled while Rome burned” is used to describe doing something trivial when serious action is desperately required. It’s an apt epigram for humanity today — fully aware of the worsening disasters brought on by climate change but content to focus on acquiring more money and power, even as sea levels rise. People do know what’s coming, however, and Earthquakes in London, Mike Bartlett’s smart, ambitious play now receiving a superb West Coast premiere at Rogue Machine, details all the ways this knowledge shapes us.

In London, the three daughters of a famous father move through their lives in very different ways. The youngest, Jasmine (Taylor Shurte), parties and strips (as performance art), recklessly careening from one thing to the next. Sarah (Anna Khaja) is a government minister interested in environmental causes but not disinterested in power. Freya (Ava Bogle), pregnant and very anxious, wanders the city, waiting for a predicted earthquake to strike. Their estranged father Robert (Ron Bottitta) lives alone in Scotland, in grim anticipation of the world’s descent into chaos. They’re all drawn together by a personal cataclysm which, while tragic for them, might offer hope to mankind.

Shurte has fun as the strong-willed Jasmine; she flirts and divvies up drugs (“I’ll be mother.”), but also excels in quiet moments, as with her first meeting with her absent father. Khaja is terrific as the clever but arrogant Sarah, an alpha executive who enjoys her status but might be morally losing her way. Bogle does strong work in the tricky role of Freya, the suffering soul of the piece. Bottitta is excellent as Robert, who bullies the world and his family with his genius. Bottitta’s delivery of a monologue about Robert’s feelings for his daughters is quietly powerful albeit damning, and it’s a highlight of the production.

Jeff Lorch gives a touching portrayal of Sarah’s unhappy husband, Colin, and James Liebman serves up simmering anger as Freya’s concerned spouse, Steve. Zoey Bond demonstrates great skill and comedic timing as the hyper-verbal young teen, Peter, while Jonathan P. Sims is all silky elegance as the manipulative businessman Carter. Paul Stanko, Michael James Bell, Mari Weiss and Sara Shearer are standouts in supporting roles within a talented ensemble.

Directors Hollace Starr and John Perrin Flynn do expert work with their 17-person cast, staging the action dynamically and pacing it so swiftly that this two hour and 40 minute play never feels as long as it is. Starr and Flynn keep a myriad of plotlines distinct and add impressive visual flair to unexpected musical sequences, which are well-choreographed by Marwa Bernstein. Matt Richter’s lighting and Michelle Hanzelova’s projections brilliantly combine to create the many different settings of the story.

Earthquakes in London is essentially a family character study laid out on a big canvas. Bartlett’s writing is sharp and funny and moving, and while his ultimate message is one of hope, he also makes clear the possible consequences of our flawed stewardship of the planet. “The earth knows what it wants. It wants to get rid of us.” It’s a stark statement in a striking play and a great production.

Rogue Machine (in the Electric Lodge), 1416 Electric Ave., Venice; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; through Mar. 1. www.roguemachinetheatre.com. Running time: approximately two hours and 40 minutes with one intermission.

Disposable Necessities

Reviewed by Terry Morgan
Rogue Machine Theatre
Through February 3

The adage, “Youth is wasted on the young,” is generally attributed to George Bernard Shaw, a man who didn’t lack for adages. The idea that youth can also be wasted on the old is one of the undercurrents that powers Neil McGowan’s play, Disposable Necessities, a science fiction comedy/drama that posits a future in which extended life or immortality is technically possible, but only for the rich. It’s an interesting premise, and a talented cast runs with it in this world premiere production at Rogue Machine in Venice. Ultimately, however, the play’s effective elements and scenes don’t add up to a greater whole.

[Mild spoilers follow.] In the year 2095, the technology exists to transfer the mind of one person into the body of another, meaning that people who have the money can, in theory, delay death indefinitely. These transfers can also be implemented simply to keep life fresh, or to change sex or race or age on a whim.

Daniel (Darrett Sanders), a middle-aged author, is not an enthusiastic supporter of this way of life. His wife Al (Billy Flynn), though born female, is happier as a male, while his son, Chadwick (Jefferson Reid), switches bodies frequently and is now a young African American man. By contrast, his long-estranged daughter Dee (Ann Noble) has ethical issues with body-switching; after she returns home to speak to her family, everything changes.

Sanders has the unenviable role of a man who mostly reacts to all the craziness around him, but he does get to reveal more about Daniel as the play goes on — his world weariness and his suppressed morality. Noble gives vivid expression not only to Dee’s anger but to her underlying and contradictory feelings of joy and despair. The two actors share the most powerful scene in the play, in which father and daughter are having an important conversation when Daniel reaches out to touch Dee’s hand. The emotion this stirs seems about to overpower her, so he quickly pulls back, with a depth of feeling confirmed but not long indulged. It’s a lovely moment.

Claire Blackwelder gives a funny and fully committed performance as Daniel’s friend Phil, and Reid is quite good as the immature Chadwick, who tries out his latest body and race selections as if they were amusing toys. Finally, the charismatic Flynn is terrific as Al (short for Alice), a person who has found personal fulfillment in her choices. Flynn plays Al’s different relationships within the story — as mother, wife, etc. — with unshowy skill, in an impressive portrayal.

Director Guillermo Cienfuegos gets strong work from his actors, but the play’s first act is weighed down with a lot of exposition while some of its science fiction trappings (a virtual internet, earpod-type phones you can’t see) are less convincing than they might be. On the other hand, McGowan’s writing is sharp and humorous and creative, and the moral questions he poses in the second act are intriguing if somewhat theoretical. The main problem with the piece is the abstract nature of its central premise, which seems too distant from our current reality to make the drama electrifying or genuinely provocative. Instead, what we get is more a clever intellectual exercise than a satisfying play.

Rogue Machine in the Electric Lodge, 1416 Electric Ave., Venice; Sun., 7 p.m. on 12/29; Mon., 8 p.m. on 12/30; in repertory in 2020 — check schedule; through Feb. 3. www.roguemachinetheatre.com. Running time: approximately two hours and eight minutes with one intermission.

Elijah

Reviewed by Terry Morgan
The Victory Theatre Center
Extended through December 22

Placing a disparate group of characters in a location they can’t leave and forcing them to deal with each other has been a tried and true source of dramatic conflict since Sartre’s No Exit. The claustrophobia and stress of interacting with new people ratchets up the tension swiftly. So it is with Judith Leora’s new play, Elijah, which is receiving its West Coast premiere at The Victory Theatre. Unfortunately, strong production values and a fine ensemble can’t prevent this show from trying to spotlight too many issues at once.

Lori (Kathleen Bailey), a manager at a rural Texas TGI Fridays, has opened the restaurant to provide food and shelter to a group of people in the middle of Hurricane Elijah. She has one cook, and has pressed her teenage niece, Ashley (Mackenzie Rickaby), into service as a waitress. Young couple Dawn (Molly Gray) and Greg (Jordan Wall) are on vacation in the area, although Dawn is cagey as to why. Gay lawyer Tim (Jesse Merrill) and conservative Christian Patience (Elle Vernee) are on opposite sides of a capital punishment protest. As the hours pass, moving toward the scheduled execution in a local prison, the secrets of all these people hiding from the storm will be revealed.

Gray manages to take the character with the least credible plotline, Dawn, and still make her sympathetic through the power of her likable performance. Wall struggles more with the role of Greg, whose character’s backstory seems somewhat extraneous to the rest of it. Vernee does excellent work as Patience, relaying the woman’s kindness and tendency to judge others with equal skill. Merrill is terrific as the somewhat imperious Tim, who may be morally correct but undercuts his conduct by being regularly unpleasant. Finally, Bailey is good as the put-upon Lori, who tries to hold everything together, and Rickaby is funny as the bratty Ashley, although her character as written never entirely coheres.

Director Maria Gobetti gets strong work from her ensemble and stages the show with brisk expertise. Evan Bartoletti’s set is impressive in its level of detail, as if the production had actually taken a whole room from an existing TGI Fridays and placed it on the Victory stage. Playwright Leora is clearly talented and skilled at writing humorous dialogue, but the contortions of the plot don’t seem believable. On top of that, the play touches on so many different social issues (capital punishment, child abuse, homophobia to name but a few) that it’s barely able to do any of them justice.

There are certainly enjoyable elements in this production, but the play itself needs shoring up.

The Victory Theatre Center, 3326 W. Victory Blvd., Burbank; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 4 p.m.; Extended through Dec. 22. www.thevictorytheatrecenter.org. Running time: approximately 80 minutes with no intermission.

Buried Child

Reviewed by Terry Morgan
A Noise Within Theatre Company 
Through November 23

Watching A Noise Within’s new production of Sam Shepard’s Buried Child, I was struck by how closely the first act resembles Pinter’s The Homecoming. A man who’s been away from his family for some time returns, accompanied by a woman whom he brings into a group of strange, violent men. But whereas in The Homecoming this meeting changes the future of the family, in Buried Child its impact has to do with digging up the past. Bolstered by several strong performances, this revival does do justice to Shepard’s play, but a couple of missteps keep the production from reaching its full potential.

In a house in rural Illinois, elderly Dodge (Geoff Elliott) sits on a couch nursing a bottle of whiskey in between coughing fits. His wife, Halie (Deborah Strang), chatters incessantly from upstairs as he tries to ignore her. Eldest adult son Tilden (Michael Manuel), returned home broken after some undefined “trouble in New Mexico,” keeps bringing produce in from the usually barren backyard. Middle son Bradley (Frederick Stuart), who appears later, lost a leg in a chainsaw accident. Into this weirdness arrives Tilden’s son, Vince (Zack Kenney), with his girlfriend Shelly (Angela Gulner) in tow, looking to enjoy a family reunion but finding instead a shattered group of people who don’t even remember him.

Elliott is a reliably strong actor, but while he does good work, he seems somewhat miscast as Dodge. If there’s one person responsible for this family’s destruction, it’s Dodge, and even if he’s been laid low by old age, the shadow of the man he was should still be present. Elliott is adept at finding all the dark humor in the role, but his interpretation lacks menace, which unfortunately robs the production of some of its power. Strang, whose part is more difficult — she’s offstage for much of her dialogue — is actually more successful at portraying Halie who, a bit deranged, monologues tirelessly (almost like a Beckett stream-of-consciousness) and then abruptly verbally attacks whomever attracts her ire.

Gulner is excellent as the resilient Shelly, credible both in her alarm at the craziness around her and her kindness to Tilden. Manuel is solid as the damaged Tilden, who sells the notion of the backyard’s endless fecundity and the weird symbolism that entails. Stuart has a potent entrance scene at the end of Act One and is equally good at displaying the character’s weakness in Act Two. Kenney’s performance as Vince works when he’s thrown into confusion early on, but a pivotal drunk scene towards the end might benefit from some restraint.

Director Julia Rodriguez-Elliott gets high-quality performances from her cast, and if she chooses to focus more on the comedic aspects of the play more than the dramatic, it’s a valid choice and the production still succeeds. Angela Balogh Calin’s costumes aren’t showy but they’re appropriate to the various characters; scenic designer Sibyl Wickersheimer’s living room/porch , however, seems bland and undetailed.

Although slightly dated, the play — a clear forerunner to August: Osage County — still retains its primal power, wherein the sins of the father, secrets long buried, find their inexorable path into the light.

A Noise Within, 3352 E. Foothill Blvd., Pasadena; in rep, call for schedule; through Nov. 23. www.anoisewithin.org. Running time: approximately one hour and 55 minutes, with one intermission.

The Mystery of Irma Vep – A Penny Dreadful

Reviewed by Terry Morgan
Actors Co-op Theatre Company
Through November 10

In today’s parlous theatrical economy, more must be done with less, which explains the proliferation of one-person shows on some of our larger stages. This is understandable in a pecuniary sense, if regrettable in an aesthetic one — one misses the dramatic interplay between actors. A nice compromise is the “two-hander,” in which two performers make up the entire cast. Charles Ludlam’s The Mystery of Irma Vep — A Penny Dreadful is an excellent example of this theatrical form. It’s a showcase for a pair of accomplished actors to demonstrate their skills in multiple roles. The new revival at Actors Co-op features two strong performers; unfortunately, static direction takes the wind out of the production’s sails.

The story takes place at British manor house “Mandacrest,” in a time set “between the wars,” where Lord Edgar (John Allee) lives with his new wife, Lady Enid (Isaac Wade). They’re tended to by prickly housekeeper Jane (Allee) and groundskeeper Nicodemus (Wade). Edgar is still mourning his late wife Irma, who perished in mysterious circumstances, and Enid worries about her husband’s obsession and the frequent appearances of wolves on the estate grounds. The more deeply Enid looks into the unnatural demise of Irma, the closer natural and supernatural forces come to devising Enid’s own death.

As Lord Edgar, Allee is appropriately tormented, and he excels as the snappish Jane, who alternately flirts with Nicodemus and slaps him down (“How dare you speak to me in such a manner?! I’ve had education!”). Wade, reveling in histrionic reactions and gestures, is wonderfully over the top as Enid (who is supposed to be a retired actress). He especially shines in a sequence in which Enid’s singing voice is revealed, at hilarious length, to be less than lovely.

Ludlam’s play is a classic, a tribute to old Universal Studios monster movies and gothic melodramas, and it retains all of the quick wit and affection for the genres it satirizes. Allee and Wade do their best and are generally entertaining. But a successful production of a play like this requires rapid pacing, to accommodate all the quick costume changes required. Unfortunately, as directed by Carla Cackowski, this doesn’t happen; instead, the action stops and starts when it should be fleet throughout. Jessa Orr’s set is also somewhat lackluster, although David B. Marling’s sound is consistently amusing, especially the very specific effect of Nicodemus screwing his wooden leg into its socket.

Actors Co-op Crossley Theatre, 1760 N. Gower St., Hollywood; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sat., 10/12 & 10/19, 2:30 p.m.; Sun., 2:30 p.m.; through Nov. 10. www.ActorsCo-op.org. Running time: approximately two hours and five minutes, with one intermission.

A Play Is a Poem

Reviewed by Terry Morgan
Center Theatre Group (in association with Atlantic Theater Company)
Through October 13

Ethan Coen is one of the greatest screenwriters of the past 50 years, with some of his works — Miller’s Crossing, Fargo and The Big Lebowski — standing as masterworks of the form. He’s also an accomplished short story author and poet, as attested to by Gates of Eden and The Drunken Driver Has the Right of Way, respectively. So, it’s disappointing to report that his new show at the Taper, A Play Is a Poem, is at best a mildly amusing collection of four short plays, with an implacably bad, tough-to-endure one-act positioned right at the center.

In “The Redeemers,” two ne’er-do-well siblings are trying to dispose of a dead body when their cop brother knocks at the door. “A Tough Case” follows detective Ed (Joey Slotnick) as he investigates an embezzling case, assisted by his accident-prone fellow P.I., Don (CJ Wilson). “At the Gazebo” focuses on a pivotal conversation between Carter (Sam Vartholomenos), just returned from Europe for the first time, and Dorothy (Micaela Diamond), who’s never left Natchez. In “The Urbanes,” a cabbie (Max Casella) and his wife (Miriam Silverman) argue about starting a new taxi business. And finally, “Inside Talk” follows a series of film pitches from wannabe producers Lou (Jason Kravits) and Jerry (Saul Rubinek) to an increasingly aggravated executive (Peter Jacobson).

Slotnick is credible as the standard film noir detective Ed, but he’s considerably livelier as the Cabbie’s duplicitous prospective business partner, Joey. Wilson excels both as Gary, a violent “Christian” cop and as the cheerfully idiotic Don. Vartholomenos and Diamond do the best they can as Carter and Dorothy, but their play is so baroque in its tedium that they can’t bring it to life. However, Diamond does do sharp work as the sassy Lindy in “Tough Case.”

Casella and Silverman are both funny as the eternally feuding Cabbie and Wife, and Ro Boddie lends great support as twitchy and enthusiastic fellow taxi driver, Steve. Jacobson does a nice slow burn as the Executive who puts up with one progressively more stupid film idea after another and finally erupts in rage. Rubinek scores as the comparatively reasonable (if still manipulative) Jerry, and Kravits is terrific as the aggressive Lou, who prefaces all his attacks “with respect.” Finally, Nellie McKay, who performs songs between each play, is easily the best aspect of the production: Her lyrics are witty, her voice is lovely, and her musicianship is superb.

Director Neil Pepe gets solid performances from his cast, but his staging is somewhat tepid. “At the Gazebo” is particularly problematic; punctuated by the sighs of flagging audience members, it soon slows to a crawl. Coen is undeniably a very talented writer, and several of these pieces display his wit (“You were born with a stick up your ass. Life has not worked it free.”). However, the shorter segments feel more like fragments than plays; they end abruptly or don’t have much point. “At the Gazebo” attempts to be a high-minded character study; instead it’s a stultifyingly endless barrage of stilted verbiage that goes nowhere.

Without it, A Play Is a Poem would be moderately entertaining. There’s some funny writing, good actors and the wonderful presence of Nellie McKay. But having that dead spot in the middle of the show makes it difficult to sit through.

The Mark Taper Forum, 135 N. Grand Ave., Downtown L.A.—Civic Center; Tues.-Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 2:30 p.m. & 8 p.m.; Sun., 1 p.m. & 6:30 p.m.; through Oct. 13. www.CenterTheatreGroup.org. Running time: approximately one hour and 50 minutes, with no intermission.

Handjob

Reviewed by Terry Morgan
Echo Theater Company
Extended through October 28

RECOMMENDED

Erik Patterson’s new play, Handjob, aims to be provocative, and it succeeds in its goal. While the show features the explicit depiction of a sexual act (I bet you can guess which one), the playwright is going after bigger themes than sex alone. Issues such as consent, homophobia, racism and the depiction or lack of depiction of gay life in modern culture are a few of the subjects this work deftly explores. Patterson’s play is smart and very funny, and if its reach slightly exceeds its grasp, it’s no matter. The world premiere production by the Echo Theater Company is expertly acted and directed and genuinely thought-provoking in the best way.

Keith (Steven Culp) has hired a “shirtless cleaner,” Eddie (Michael Rishawn), to tidy up his New York apartment while he watches. He’s made unfortunate assumptions about Eddie that turn out not to be true. In a similar situation, Kevin (Stephen Guarino) has hired Bradley (Ryan Nealy) to do the same kind of job, but the outcome is quite different. Elsewhere, a harried theatre director, Susan (Tamarra Graham), is forced to deal with a heated dispute between her cast members.

Culp is compelling as Keith, an intelligent man partially blind to his own sins, whose passion occasionally escapes his control. Rishawn brings a simmering intensity to his role and serves as the moral conscience of the piece. Nealy does solid work as the open-minded Bradley, and Graham excels as the frustrated director Susan, who initially tries to be politically correct but ultimately just lets loose in a brilliant torrent of anger. Finally, Guarino is superb and consistently hilarious as Kevin, especially during a scene in which his description of a group of internet searches becomes a fantastically elongated aria.

Director Chris Fields gets excellent work from his actors and takes what could have been a confusing series of overlapping plots and makes its intricacy crystal clear. Patterson’s dialogue displays a glorious abundance of sharp wit, and the play’s structure is clever and effective. Its only fault — and it’s a small one — is that it seems to take on too many issues at once, so that the power of the outrage in the final scene is somewhat diminished.

Handjob is not for everyone, but those open to the experience will find much to enjoy, appreciate and think about.

Atwater Village Theatre, 3269 Casitas Ave., Atwater Village; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 4 p.m.; Mon., 8 p.m.; extended through Oct. 28. www.EchoTheaterCompany.com. Running time: approximately one hour and 30 minutes, with no intermission.

Andy Warhol’s Tomato

Reviewed by Terry Morgan
Pacific Resident Theatre
Extended through December 15

RECOMMENDED

Back in the ’60s, Andy Warhol was quoted as saying, “In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes” — but his own fame clearly outpaced that prediction. He’s been the subject of films and books, and now playwright Vince Melocchi has crafted a play about the artist before he was celebrated, titled Andy Warhol’s Tomato. The world premiere production at Pacific Resident Theatre is a well-acted and entertaining addition to Warhol lore.

In 1946 small town Pennsylvania, college-age Andrew Warhola (Derek Chariton) has passed out from an anxiety attack on a city street. He wakes up in the back room of Bonino’s bar, temporarily tended to by the establishment’s owner, Bones (Keith Stevenson), until Andy’s brother can pick him up. The artistically ambitious, somewhat affected and not very covertly gay Andy and the gruff but kind blue-collar Bones couldn’t seem more different. However, as they spend more time together (Andy paints the sign for the bar), they realize that they’re both aspiring artists, each in his own way.

Chariton does a nice job of portraying Andy before the Warhol persona was fully formed, with a combination of artistic enthusiasm and curiosity mixed with touchy defensiveness and pointed humor. It’s an engaging and skilled performance, and I was struck by how credibly one could imagine this character moving to New York and becoming the artist we all know. Stevenson is excellent as Bones, and although his character, as written, is less flamboyant than Andy, he’s the heart of the play. Decency and the demanding struggle to be a good person don’t always sound charismatic, but Stevenson’s performance is affecting and subtle and seems true-to-life. This grounds the show and transforms it from what could have been a celebrity anecdote into an interesting human drama.

Dana Jackson’s sure-handed direction draws terrific work from her cast, and a moment toward the end of the show where Warhol’s sketches are projected onto part of the set provides the production with a lovely note of visual grace. Rich Rose’s detailed set — the backroom of a bar packed with stacked boxes of beer and whiskey and a convincing steam boiler — greatly adds to the story’s authenticity. Melocchi’s writing is funny and sometimes touching, and the piece is an enjoyable look at a lesser-known period of Warhol’s life. My only quibble is that sometimes it is a bit too “on the nose,” with specific explanations for various preeminent aspects of the artist’s work.

Overall, however, Andy Warhol’s Tomato is a strong and entertaining production about a unique artist. As Bones says in the play, “There is beauty in the mundane.” This show has found it.

Pacific Resident Theatre, 703 Venice Blvd., Venice; Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.; extended through Dec. 15. www.pacificresidenttheatre.com. Running time: approximately one hour and 20 minutes with no intermission.