This Side of Crazy

Reviewed by Iris Mann
Zephyr Theatre
Through March 8

RECOMMENDED

With This Side of Crazy, Del Shores has created a gripping multilevel scenario filled with colorful Southern lingo and humor that emerges naturally from the characters. Beneath the comedy is a meaningful exploration of ambition, professional religiosity, anger, betrayal and family conflict. This production is a superlative piece of work that showcases Shores’s excellence as both playwright and director.

The story centers on former gospel singer-songwriter Ditty Blaylock (Sharon Garrison), a 70-something woman whose three daughters — she still calls them “little stars for Jesus” — were a sensationally successful singing trio as children. Twenty-five years later, Ditty lives with her oldest daughter, Rachel (Bobbie Eakes), who regularly — and loudly — has what Ditty calls “carnal relations with a man in a coma.” It seems that Rachel’s comatose husband Jude was strangled by her sister Abigail (Dale Dickey) in a jealous rage when they were both young women. At the time, Abigail was in love with Jude and had expected to marry him until her sister stole him away. To keep her daughter out of prison, Ditty concocted a tale and had Abigail confined to a mental institution.

Now, the Gospel Television Network wants to produce a 50-year tribute to Ditty and plans to arrange appearances by numerous country and gospel stars. The problem is that the network also wants to feature a reunion of the three sisters, who at this point are totally estranged. Nonetheless, Ditty arranges for Abigail to be released, luring her with an unsigned check for $5000. She has sent a similar check to the youngest sister, Bethany (Rachel Sorsa), although, given that Bethany is to sing gospel, they will have to keep it hidden that she is now an avowed atheist.

When the four finally come together, sparks fly, as old jealousies, resentments, accusations and suppressed rage rise to the surface. Apparently, the daughters felt exploited, trapped and drained as children.

As director, Shores extracts in-depth performances from the ensemble, while keeping the action flowing at just the right pace.

The actors are uniformly splendid. Garrison hits all the right notes as Ditty, transitioning from one feigned emotion to another “on a dime.” Her Ditty embodies elements of Amanda in The Glass Menagerie, televangelist Tammy Faye Bakker, and a hint of Naomi Judd, among other influences. She’s also a drama queen of a stage mother, a conveniently religious woman, a “victim” of her daughters’ unappreciation, and a manipulative narcissist. Her humorous moments hit the mark, and when she learns that Bethany is a lesbian as well as an atheist, her reaction is priceless. Yet, she also has a core of resilience, and Garrison conveys that aspect of the character with great subtlety.

Eakes’s entire performance springs from a profound and powerful well of emotion. She is skillful at hurling edgy comedic barbs, born of anger and bitterness, and when Rachel must own the fact that she stole Jude from Abigail, the moment she crafts is stunning. And Dickey is intensely moving when, as Abigail, she finally airs her agony and anger over Rachel’s treachery. The only leavening element among the four women is provided by Bethany, and Sorsa navigates that role with likability and strength.

Adding to the play’s impact and ambiance are Tom Buderwitz’s very fitting set design and Shon Le Blanc’s costuming.

If some of the plot points seem a bit “over the top,” it all somehow works anyway, perhaps because audiences can find aspects of this family’s conflicts and dysfunction eminently relatable.

Zephyr Theatre, 7456 Melrose Ave., West Hollywood; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. & 7 p.m.; through Mar. 8. www.delshores.com. Running time: two hours and 30 minutes with one intermission.

Nowhere on the Border

Reviewed by Iris Mann
The Road Theatre Company
Through March 8

Nowhere on the Border is playwright Carlos Lacámara’s sensitive, imaginatively crafted take on the various perspectives surrounding illegal immigration — a particularly timely topic given our current political climate. Unfortunately, as directed by Stewart J. Zully, the material’s potential to move us is only occasionally realized, while the performances are of varying quality.

As the story begins, we are “somewhere” on this side of the border with Mexico. Roberto (Jonathan Nichols) is watching over the decomposing corpse of a woman who apparently died while attempting to clandestinely cross. He is suddenly confronted by Gary (Chet Grissom), a volunteer who helps the Border Patrol and who assumes that the Mexican-born Roberto has entered the country illegally and might be a drug dealer or a terrorist. But Roberto has a visa and has notified the authorities about the dead woman. He is here on an ill-fated search for his daughter, Pilar (Natalie Llerena), who is now missing. She has paid the cartel to smuggle her into this country so she can find her husband, who has been living here for three years.

Lacámara deserves particular praise for presenting his theme without taking sides, but instead giving voice and value to opposing views. In Roberto, he illuminates the perspective of desperate people who come from south of the border seeking work, safety or a reunion with their loved ones. From Gary, he airs the complaints of many American workers whose livelihood, from their standpoint, is threatened by the cheap labor that illegal immigrants supply.

As it turns out, both men have lost their jobs.

Intermingled with the scenes between the two men is Pilar’s backstory. We see her arrange with the “connected” Don Rey (Thom Rivera) to be smuggled across the border, and we follow her on her torturous trek through the desert.

The arduousness of that journey somehow fails to be moving. Pilar’s suffering under the intense arid heat and her increasing weakness are indicated but not potently conveyed, perhaps because the venue’s small stage makes it difficult to envision the punishing expanse and emptiness of the vast wasteland she is traversing. Derrick McDaniel’s lighting design and Nicholas Santiago’s projection design help somewhat, but the desired effect is still not totally achieved.

In addition, Pilar’s desperation to find her husband doesn’t arouse empathy. It is difficult to ascertain whether this is due to a weakness in Llerena’s performance or to the tepidness of her character’s motivation.

Other performances fluctuate in their effectiveness. Rivera and Leandro Cano, who plays Jesus, a man being taken across the border with Pilar, acquit themselves satisfactorily. But Diana DeLaCruz struggles to define her role as the ‘coyote’ who smuggles them.

The most powerful work of the evening is delivered during the exchanges between Gary and Roberto. In his portrayal of a volunteer guard attempting to prevent what he considers an invasion, Grissom grows stronger and more engaging as the action progresses toward its almost inevitable conclusion.

However, it is Nichols who makes the play sing — smoothly projecting an essential decency, innocence, good will and caring nature that evoke the viewer’s sympathy. The script is laced with humor, largely arising from Roberto’s naiveté, and Nichols navigates those moments effortlessly.

The full impact of this story finally makes itself felt when, after some tragic moments, the two sparring fathers manage to find in each other a common humanity.

The Road Theatre on Magnolia, 10747 W. Magnolia Blvd., NoHo Arts District; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; through Mar. 8. (818) 761-8838 or www.roadtheatre.org. Running time: 87 minutes with no intermission.

The Man Who Came to Dinner

Reviewed by Iris Mann 
The Group Rep
Through January 12

RECOMMENDED

This production of The Man Who Came to Dinner is Group Rep’s holiday gift to Los Angeles audiences, unwinding like a finely tuned instrument with cleverly coordinated moving parts.

Written in 1939 by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart, The Man Who Came to Dinner is crafted as plays were during that period, with three acts and a cast numbering more than 30 actors. Despite its outdated elements, this improbable tale of a houseguest from hell remains entertaining, particularly with its sendup of celebrity worship and its contrast between larger-than-life characters and more down-to-earth, everyday people. Also, the action is replete with amusing intrigues, romance, jealousy and clever one-liners that come fast and furious yet still pack a powerful punch. Director Bruce Kimmel has skillfully established the madcap pace the material calls for. Under his sure hand, the proceedings, far-fetched though they may be, are hilariously funny.

The story is set in the small town of Mesalia, Ohio, during the 1939 Christmas season. The well-to-do Stanley family has invited noted radio personality, critic and professional wit, Sheridan Whiteside, called Sherry (Jim Beaver), to dine with them. Sherry inspires awe and admiration in the Stanleys and the townspeople. But all does not go as planned. Entering the house, Sherry slips on the ice and purportedly suffers a severe fracture. As a result, he becomes a long-term guest, who proves to be a tyrannical, ungrateful and insufferable lodger. He is aptly described by his secretary, Maggie (Hartley Powers) as a selfish, petty, self-centered egomaniac.

And Beaver’s Sherry lives up to that description. He delivers his one-line zingers with aplomb and is every inch the guest one loves to hate. He insults nearly everyone with whom he comes in contact — at one point, he says of his physician, “Doctor Bradley (Fox Carney) is the world’s greatest argument for mercy killing.” He amasses huge telephone bills and welcomes a series of oddball guests, including some paroled convicts, an insect specialist who brings him a cockroach colony, and a Hollywood comedian named Banjo (played last weekend by Michael Gabiano), who is the incarnation of Harpo Marx. Gabiano goes over the top in the most delightful way. His expansive performance approaches the very limit of foolishness and ends with a flourish in a Jimmy Durante imitation.

Other performances are equally superlative. Striking the right balance between a naturalistic reality and a heightened comedic level can be difficult, but as Sherry’s saucy secretary, Powers conquers the challenge admirably: She stands up to her employer and gives as good as she gets. Kay Cole is a hoot as Sherry’s jittery nurse — her silent takes in the face of Sherry’s put-downs are priceless. And Doug Haverty, who plays the man of the house, owns his role, while Michele Bernath is amusing as his loony sister who dances awkwardly in and out her scenes.

As playwright/performer Beverly Carlton, a character reminiscent of Noel Coward, Chris Winfield oozes sophisticated artifice, and half talks, half sings his musical number with just the right touch. Winfield also created the beautifully-appointed set, highlighted by warm, dark colors and an inviting Christmas tree. His design conveys a sense of the time, the place and the season. The same can be said of Michael Mullen’s costume design, which is particularly appropriate to the period.

The Lonny Chapman Theatre, 10900 Burbank Blvd., North Hollywood; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; through Jan. 12. (818) 763-5990 or www.thegrouprep.com. Running time: approximately two hours with two intermissions.

Salvage

Reviewed by Iris Mann
Lounge Theatre
Extended through January 19

RECOMMENDED

Rarely does a theatergoer encounter as seamless a marriage of script, song, direction and performance as in Salvage, Tim Alderson’s emotionally captivating gem of a play.

The title refers in part to the possibility of salvaging lost souls. Alderson examines various aspects of the human experience: ambition, broken dreams, responsibility for others, bitterness, and, ultimately, hope. “Having a dream is like running with scissors,” says one of the characters, who has failed to realize his potential. The story unfolds in layers, as revelation follows revelation and secrets are uncovered, so that we are constantly surprised.

The play begins with Harley (Christopher Fordinal), a young man in his twenties, entering a down-and-out bar that he believes to be the place where his country music idol, Floyd Whitaker, committed suicide. An aspiring singer-songwriter, Harley nonetheless plans to pawn the guitar he had struggled to buy in order to support his pregnant wife Destiny (Nine Herzog) and pay their bills. He questions the surly saloon owner, Johnson (Leonard Earl Howze), about Whitaker, but Johnson brushes him off and tells him that he can either buy drinks or leave.

In a corner of the bar sits an unkempt, near wreck of a man, a former clergyman called Preacher (David Atkinson), who starts strumming his guitar and singing, “I’m So Tired of it All.” At first, he derides Harley’s sense of responsibility and sunny disposition. But as Harley begins to play and sing, his attitude changes as he comes to recognize the young man’s talent.

The two very slowly begin to communicate. It turns out that Preacher and Whitaker were musical colleagues and that they both grew up with Johnson. Gradually, a back story of disillusionment, jealousy, exploitation and betrayal is laid bare. The story builds to an unexpected ending that may seem too pat to some theatergoers but somehow adds to the serendipitous sensibility of the piece.

Most of the searing songs (by Alderson, Pat Terry and the late Mark Heard and Randy VanWarmer) pre-date the play — yet they precisely reflect the inner lives of the characters who perform them.

Damien D. Lewis directs with a sure hand and a certain touch, in a theatrical production grounded in an edgy reality.

The performances are uniformly splendid. It is unusual to find such strong actors that are also equally accomplished musicians. Atkinson, who is vaguely reminiscent of Kris Kristofferson, maintains the specter of a ruined yet still attractive man throughout the evening. He projects a mesmerizing grittiness, inner rage and self-pity that eventually morphs into a hint of the inner pain and despair that torment his character.

The dynamic Fordinal is equally appealing — conveying Harley’s essential decency, youth and kindness, as well as a wistful sense of loss when, at the beginning, he prepares to abandon his hopes.

Howze has no musical numbers; instead, his character acts as something of a narrator and truth-teller. Johnson’s exasperation with Preacher’s self-pity and nihilistic attitude is sharp and pointed, while Herzog, who has a lyrical voice, provides a leavening presence as Harley’s understanding spouse. She is quietly engaging and sympathetic.

Lounge Theatre, 6201 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m. (dark Dec. 27, 28, 29); extended through Jan. 19. (323) 960-7712 or www.Onstage411.com/Salvage. Running time: 90 minutes with no intermission.

Fifteen Men in a Smoke-Filled Room

Reviewed by Iris Mann 
Theatre 40
Through December 15

According to the perspective put forth by playwright Colin Speer Crowley, this play could well be titled “The Reluctant President.”

It takes place in a Chicago hotel room during the Republican National Convention of June 1920. At first, the possibility that Ohio Senator Warren G. Harding (David Hunt Stafford) will be the party’s nominee for president seems remote. But his handler, political operative Harry M. Daugherty (John Combs), has concocted a devious scheme whereby the two front-runners are certain to be deadlocked, and the delegates backing one of them have actually been sewn up to switch to Harding on a late ballot.

As portrayed here, Harding, a renowned ladies’ man, doesn’t really want to be president. He would prefer to chuck it all and live with his current mistress, Nan Britton (Sarah Walker), who has given birth to his child. But Daugherty manipulates him into acquiescing.

The play is a mildly interesting look at political machinations (made by men in smoke-filled rooms), but as drama, the production only occasionally sparkles. The script is labored, and a heaviness overhangs the action. The very able director, Jules Aaron, keeps the evening flowing, but even he can’t completely overcome the story’s limitations.

Part of the problem is that, as drawn here, Harding is not a particularly compelling figure and is less interesting than most of the other characters. He is presented as a weak, vacillating, easily controlled, even henpecked, man, without any strengths. Stafford, a talented, versatile actor, makes the most of the material he’s given, but is afforded little opportunity to display the appeal and charm that Harding was noted for.

Also, while most of the events in the play are historically accurate, and the main characters actually existed, several of the motivations impugned to them are less supportable. For instance, was Harding really such a wavering nominee? Did his wife Florence (Roslyn Cohn) really wish that her husband not become President because she feared the death that a clairvoyant foretold for him?

As Florence, a historically active and forward-thinking First Lady, Cohn gives one of the production’s most enlivened performances. At first, she is so expertly bitchy, critical and sarcastic that she arouses delicious hostility. But she becomes much more sympathetic when it’s later revealed how well she understands her husband and how much she needs and loves him. Combs plays his part equally well, projecting every inch the blustery man of action and limited self-reflection. The actor never falters in his drive and cunning.

Walker’s Nan is an effervescent flapper type. She is totally convincing as a hero-worshipper who turns out to want things just the way they are, preferring to become the mistress of a United States president rather than spending her life with an ordinary citizen.

Unfortunately, Kevin Dulude is miscast as a crafty newspaper editor. He has an impish quality that doesn’t suit the character of a savvy journalist. He is much more successful in his other role, that of a French waiter. And Roger K. Weiss needs to acquire a more professionally authoritative tone as a radio announcer conjured in Harding’s imagination, predicting future events that actually come true.

The set is a beautifully appointed interior (Jeff G. Rack) which creates just the right ambiance. Equally praiseworthy are Joseph “Sloe” Slawinski’s theatrically stimulating sound and Brandon Baruch’s expert lighting.

Warren Harding’s administration was beset by political scandals, most notably the Teapot Dome affair in which a cabinet official received a bribe in return for awarding oil leases at low rates without competitive bidding. Given the current political climate, the skullduggery depicted in the play just goes to show that, the more things change, the more they remain the same.

Theatre 40 – Reuben Cordova Theatre at Beverly Hills High School, 241 S. Moreno Dr., Beverly Hills; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. & 7 p.m., Dec. 1 & 8; dark Nov. 28 & 29 (Thanksgiving); through Dec. 15. (310) 364-0535 or www.theatre40.org. Running time: 90 minutes with no intermission.

Eight Nights

Reviewed by Iris Mann
Antaeus Theatre Company
Through December 16

RECOMMENDED

This heartfelt odyssey, covering eight decades (1949–2016) in the life of a Holocaust survivor struggling to move her soul beyond the horrors she has undergone, is lyrically rendered in Jennifer Maisel’s beautiful scenario. Maisel explores the way in which the legacy of the persecuted echoes down the ages to affect future generations.

Yet, the full potential of Maisel’s masterfully crafted script, which is suffused with an element of magical realism, is only intermittently realized in this world premiere production by Antaeus Theatre Company. Director Emily Chase stages the work smoothly, but under her direction some of the actors, several of whom play multiple roles, fail to explore the depths of trauma implicit in the theme. As a result, the production falls short of eliciting the deep emotional response the subject matter warrants.

The play consists of eight scenes, which take place a decade apart in the same New York apartment, each falling on one of the eight nights of Chanukah. The story begins with the arrival of 19-year-old Rebecca (played by Zoe Yale for the years 1949-1978) at the home of her father, Erich (Arye Gross). Mentally and emotionally, she is still back at Auschwitz and Dachau, the concentration camps where she was imprisoned and where her mother and two sisters died. She is terrified by every sound, every knock at the door, and every stranger. She had been a passenger on the historically famous ship, the St. Louis, which, loaded with Jews fleeing the impending Nazi regime, had sailed the world seeking refuge after one country after another closed its ports. As a consequence, the passengers were forced to return to Germany, and many were subsequently slaughtered.

Yale has the physical delicacy and birdlike quality suitable to the role, but she needs to reach for deeper layers of a damaged psyche. In addition, her accent is not consistent. She is more effective when playing Amy and Nina, Rebecca’s daughter and granddaughter.

Conversely, veteran actor Gross gives a finely tuned, multilayered performance as the father who escaped Germany in 1939, expecting that his family would soon follow. Gross projects a visceral sense of guilt beneath an essential decency and genuine fatherly love. But he fails to establish a contrast between this character and that of a current day Muslim refugee from Syria, which he also portrays.

As time passes, Rebecca (played by Tessa Auberjonois for the period 1988-2016) begins to engage in the world. She marries, has a family, and builds a successful business selling maternity clothes. Yet, she continues to be haunted by the horrors of her past and by the ghosts of those who have gone before her — apparitions which appear onstage to move in and out of her life. Like many other survivors, she refuses to discuss the Holocaust — believing that she is shielding her family, particularly her daughter and granddaughter, from knowing about the atrocities. But her choice only serves to erect a wedge between herself and those she loves. The play ignites in a confrontational scene when Arlene (Karen Malina White) the wife of the African-American soldier that liberated Rebecca, upbraids her for not sharing her past with her daughter.

But Rebecca refuses. Auberjonois is enormously potent in this role — palpably in touch with the passions whirling around in her character. She also helps the evening come alive during the sequence in which Rebecca, in a Shoah-like taped interview, finally testifies about the Holocaust And Malina establishes a strong presence as Arlene, skillfully differentiating that character from her later role as Lacey, the lesbian lover of Rebecca’s granddaughter.

Other cast members acquit themselves reasonably well. Christopher Watson has an effective moment as Ben, Rebecca’s liberator, who can’t get the horrors he witnessed out of his mind, while Josh Zuckerman imbues Aaron, Rebecca’s husband, with a tender quality and the anguish of one who is shut out from his wife’s inner life.

Devin Kawaoka plays Steve, the half-Japanese lover of Rebecca’s pregnant daughter. It is he who gives voice to one of the playwright’s stated aims, to draw parallels between the Jewish experience under the Nazis and the experiences of other victimized groups: African-American descendants of slaves, Middle Eastern refugees, and — in Steve’s case — the Japanese, including his grandparents, who were interned during World War II. (Rebecca rejects this comparison, insisting that while it must have been terrible for his grandparents, it’s not the same.) At one point, Steve relates how his grandfather was mistakenly shot and killed by a guard. It’s a potentially powerful moment, but Kawaoka needs to reach further to embody the pain such a tragedy must engender.

Despite this and other shortcomings in the production, the finely conceived, sensitively written story is one the public needs to hear.

Kiki & David Gindler Performing Arts Center, 110 E. Broadway, Glendale; Fri.-Sat. & Mon., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. (dark Nov. 15, 16, 24 & 25); through Dec. 16. (818) 506-1983 or www.Antaeus.org. Running time: one hour and 40 minutes with no intermission.