In My Mind’s Eye

Reviewed by Julia Lloyd George
The Group Rep
Through March 15

In My Mind’s Eye is a charming memory play that chronicles the coming-of-age of a legally blind woman and her journey from childhood to adulthood. An ode to a geography teacher from playwright Doug Haverty’s youth, it’s dominated by scenes from the central character’s girlhood. Haverty nobly, albeit shakily, attempts to capture the evolution of a heroine struggling for acceptance despite her differences from “normal” society.

Though Patty (Peyton Kirkner) battles teasing from other children and the inevitable challenges brought on by her disability, the principal antagonist in her life is her overprotective mother, Lola (Maria Kress), whose good intentions result in unhappiness for both parties more often than not.

While their relationship is undeniably the most important in the play, the tension between this mother and daughter often feels frustratingly flat and strained. Lola either comes across as an unsympathetic bully who further isolates and holds back her already lonely daughter, or a pathetic figure that cries excessively at such moments as Patty’s prom for comic effect.

The audience is never privileged to fully understand her perspective and other shades of her character; she is merely the villain or the loser, with little in between. Though clearly the second most important character in the play, she’s presented with little depth. It’s clear that she loves and wants the best for her daughter, yet she so often achieves the exact opposite; I wanted to know so much more about the emotional history behind that tragic irony than I got.

On the other hand, Peyton Kirkner, the precocious and talented 14-year-old playing the young Patty, brings an admirable amount of spunk and energy to her role. She is full of enthusiasm and confidence almost all of the time, choosing to face life head-on; she bravely confronts both her mother and other kids when they bully her. I could not help but root for her success as she yearned to become a teacher.

When we see her older self (Kait Haire), she has achieved her dream and is beginning a new job as a teacher, yet she lacks some of the confidence and spunk of her younger self. Sweet and gentle, she gingerly embarks on a new romance with her handsome colleague (Bobby Slaski) and so begins to grow up and away from her still overbearing mother. The scenes between these two as they flirt and fall in love were my favorites of the play, as the chemistry between the actors is palpable.

But as much as I enjoyed Patty’s burgeoning romance, I couldn’t help but want her to achieve true independence instead of merely transitioning from one caretaker to another. Her final departure from her mother’s care is framed as her crowning victory, yet it never feels like a choice that she consciously made or fought for. Instead, it’s one that she merely lucked into as she skips pleasantly into marital bliss. It’s obvious that we’re meant to share her joy, yet the high never quite hits.

Lonny Chapman Theatre, 10900 Burbank Blvd., North Hollywood; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; through Mar. 15. www.theGROUPrep.com. Running time: two hours with one intermission.

The Little Match Girl

Reviewed by Julia Lloyd George
Loft Ensemble
Through February 16

If you are familiar with the work of Hans Christian Andersen, you know that he was no stranger to tragedy. Even so, he often resolved his rather sad tales by compensating his unfortunate protagonists with a heavenly exit. Based on Andersen’s short story, Elizabeth Suzanne’s The Little Match Girl, which centers on a poor girl, Annalise, who attempts to sell matches on a freezing New Year’s Eve, is no different. Things begin and end in a woeful place for her, yet she retains her innocence all the way through and is duly rewarded.

Your enjoyment will depend a lot on your tolerance for morality plays and a generous heaping of sentimentality. This is the kind of piece that hammers you on the head with the message of helping those in need, yet makes you feel hardhearted for rolling your eyes at it. In fact, the best word I can use to sum it up is “sweet.” It is the kind of show I think would be great for kids — teaching them the importance of selflessness and empathy.

For the discerning adult, however, this candy-coated shell can feel tiresome and a bit dishonest. There are only so many scenes of cartoonishly terrible men and impossibly pure, generous women that one can swallow without craving more nuance and dimension. As the angelic Annalise, Ella Grace Bergeron inevitably wins you over, but she can do little to overcome the flatness of her character. The plot itself — the simple story of this girl trying to survive the night by begging a series of indifferent citizens to buy just one of her matches — become repetitive.

Suzanne admirably attempts to fill the time by spinning out the girl’s fantasies — her games with imaginary friends and other characters from stories she’s heard in the past, including references to Andersen’s own work. These scenes add much needed levity yet do little to advance the story, and appear to exist merely to underscore the importance of imagination in dire circumstances. While one can’t help but sympathize with that message, it’s difficult to see these scenes as anything other than a cute distraction from a desolate reality.

When Annalise finally dies and is guided by her loving, ever-watchful grandmother (Barbera Ann Howard) into heaven, her experience is framed as a difficult but paradigm-shifting lesson for the townspeople — the girl died so that everyone around her could be shaken into examining their lacking morals. Meanwhile, she has achieved true happiness by being reunited with the only person who ever truly loved her. While true to Andersen’s original story, this ending nonetheless feels like a convenient gloss over the tragic significance of a death in the cold.

Loft Ensemble, 11031 Camarillo St., North Hollywood; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7 p.m.; through Feb. 16. https://www.loftensemble.org/. Running time: one hour and 30 minutes with no intermission.

La Bohème: AKA “The Hipsters”

Reviewed by Julia Lloyd George
Pacific Opera Project
Through December 14

RECOMMENDED

La Bohème is an opera that’s left no shortage of adaptations in its wake. Rent is probably the most famous of them, and the one which this playful hipster version of Giacomo Puccini’s original seems closest to.

Set in modern-day Highland Park and revolving around a recognizably eclectic group of struggling artists who cavort around town, pursue romance, and just try to survive, it combines the trappings of a traditional opera with the accessible irreverence of a homegrown, contemporary satire. While this unlikely marriage leads to a couple of tonal misfires, Pacific Opera Project’s La Bohème: AKA “The Hipsters” is an undeniably fun night at the theater that should not be missed.

Staged in the historic Highland Park Ebell Club, the production has the high rafters and intimacy of a small-town chapel but the casual bawdiness of a cabaret show. Instead of traditional row-by-row seating, there are little round tables that you can book with a bottle of wine and some food, adding to the warm and welcoming atmosphere.

In keeping with the DIY theme, there is no orchestra befitting a traditional opera, only a humble background piano that allows for greater focus on the performers’ vocal talents. Rather than leaving the audience to decipher the Italian, the producers have chosen to project English subtitles above the stage. This was definitely my favorite feature of the show: The often silly, contemporary dialogue of Highland Park hipsters, conjoined with impeccable Italian singing, consistently made for comedic gold.

The production is definitely at its strongest when it leans into the whimsy of its premise. I’d argue that the best scene is the dramatic entrance, at a restaurant, of Musetta (an excellent Maria Dominique Lopez), and her seductive ploy to win back her morose graphic designer ex, Marcello (Kenneth Stavert), by parading her current wealthy boyfriend in front of him. While it’s evidently difficult to adapt La Bohème into a straight comedy, I would have loved to see more of that kind of humor come through.

The central romance between aspiring screenwriter Rodolfo (Orson Van Gay II) and freelance silk flower-maker (yes, that is her job) Mimi (Janet Szepei Todd) has obvious appeal and irresistible sweetness, but their tragic fate carries far less emotional weight than I had expected. While both actors are fantastic and Todd is an enormously talented soprano, it is difficult to get invested in their romance. Their conversations are a little too heightened and sentimental to feel realistic; grounding the dialogue a little more would have helped, even if the result were slightly less operatic.

Mimi’s illness is also an element of the show that doesn’t translate to this adaptation very well; even though she shows signs of ailing from her very first appearance, no one thinks to get her medicine or a doctor until she is literally at death’s door. That final scene is a little drawn out, as well; there is definitely room to cut down on the run time in future.

Despite these shortcomings, this La Bohème is easily the most affordable, accessible, and hilarious opera in town. I mean that without a hint of irony.

Highland Park Ebell Club, 131 S. Ave. 57, Highland Park; Wed., Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; through Dec. 14. www.pacificoperaproject.com. Running time: two hours, 20 minutes with three brief intermissions.

Department of Dreams

Reviewed by Julia Lloyd George
City Garage Theatre 
Through December 8

On its surface, Department of Dreams promises to be an assuredly compelling production. It’s the work of prolific Kosovar playwright Jeton Neziraj, whose career has been built on political dramas with a focus on authoritarian governments. It’s described as an “Orwellian comedy” whose protagonist, like Winston of 1984, works in a government department designed to ensure the public’s conformity to the rules of the state. Apparently inspired by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Neziraj even delves into moments of magical realism and dream sequences that inevitably reveal characters’ true feelings about their dystopian nation. I was truly intrigued to see a play dealing with the mysteries of dreams and the unconscious, a typically private realm that becomes commodified and dissected under the grip of a grim dictatorship. It’s a genuinely exciting premise.

Despite all this propitious material, however, the play fails to say anything new, develop characters beyond the limits of caricature, or even be particularly funny. Its protagonist, Dan (John Logan), starts out as a naïve and overeager new employee at the Department of Dreams, where it is his job to interpret the dreams that various low-level citizens have “deposited.” His unctuous supervisor, known simply as Official (David E. Frank), informs him that his predecessor, Shortleg (Gifford Irvine), was a highly valued interpreter that mysteriously flew away one night and never came back. Dan doesn’t consider this to be ominous at all, apparently, even though he has access to Shortleg’s diaries and receives cautionary visits from him reminiscent of the ghosts from A Christmas Carol.

Though Dan expresses concerns about the department’s torture methods on his very first day, he does not follow through on his concerns until about three quarters into the play. In fact, he continues to excel at his job quite happily, interrupted only by an incredibly superficial romantic subplot featuring an actress, Night (Angela Beyer), who agrees to kiss him once he promises to help her get a job. By the time Dan re-introduces his ideas about reform, the bosses have already decided to keep an eye on him, simply because of his dream-interpreting prowess and perceived arrogance. Eventually, they manage to uncover “evidence” in the form of Dan’s suspiciously anti-authoritarian dream.

Within this simplistic narrative, Dan’s character remains frustratingly static and passive. His interest in reform does not seem to be animated by any personal necessity and is only a topic that he brings up fairly casually on two occasions. He seems genuinely passionate about his work and does not even acknowledge any problems with the government to the one character outside his department, Night. I couldn’t help but feel this was a wasted opportunity to see a different side of Dan that he might not be able to show at work. The issue is, he doesn’t seem to have many different dimensions at all; instead, he’s a genuinely earnest worker that has been miscast as a revolutionary merely because of a dream and an apparently forbidden love affair.

There is undeniably great potential here to tell the story of a well-meaning everyman who falls into the inevitable traps of an oppressive government — yet the protagonist is consistently blank and there are no other characters that really merit our emotional investment. Moreover, the ending is a complete cop-out, favoring facile fantasy over the cruel reality of the situation. It caps off an ostensibly seductive yet ultimately desultory production that could use a couple of firm feet on the ground.

City Garage Theatre at Bergamot Station, T1 Space, 2525 Michigan Ave., Santa Monica; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.; through Dec. 8. (310) 453-9939 or www.citygarage.org. Running time: one hour and 40 minutes with no intermission.

We Are Proud to Present a Presentation About the Herero of Namibia, Formerly Known as South West Africa, From the German Südwestafrika, Between the Years 1884-1915

Reviewed by Julia Lloyd George
Third Culture Theatre
Extended through November 3 

RECOMMENDED

How do you depict a genocide? That’s the question that the actors of the metatheatrical We Are Proud to Present… struggle to answer, propelling to the surface increasingly relevant concerns of what kinds of stories we should be telling and who should be allowed to tell them. Rather than provide easy answers, Sibblies Drury’s innovative, challenging play forces you to confront your own biases and embrace the inherent discomfort of that task. If that sounds awfully heavy, I should probably mention that We Are Proud to Present… is also rather hilarious. Given its excellent ensemble and Bryan Keith’s sensitive direction, it’s a production that should not be ignored.

It all starts with a group of six actors, in an authentically low-rent rehearsal room filled with basic black blocks, delivering a haphazard lesson on the history of the German occupation in Namibia. The ringleader is the comically earnest, yet nameless Black Woman (Francesca Gamez), who anxiously flips through her notecards before the group gathers around a projector beaming a map of Africa.

The “presentation” then bleeds into the behind-the-scenes process of staging a production about the genocide of the Herero people, as the actors try — and fail — to bring this horrific history to life. The crux of the problem is that the only surviving historical documents the actors could find are the letters the German occupants sent home to their wives.

In their desire to stick to the facts, the group repetitively rehearses a letter-writing scene between White Man (Dallis Seeker) and White Woman (Miranda Wynne). The letters are mundane and lifeless, offering no understanding or real perspective on the genocide. Both White Man and the fantastically eager White Woman struggle to “find” their characters and their motivations, treating the audience to some laughable histrionics over their inability to know their “active verb.”

The fact remains that the spotlight is on two well-intentioned, yet fairly ignorant white people appropriating the story of an African tribe’s genocide. When the previously quiet Black Man (Myles Bullock) finally decides to call out this elephant in the room, the fissures in the group begin to show. Though Black Man rightfully points out that the storytellers need to start prioritizing the “black experience,” the white actors consistently push back, saying they can’t just invent a story about the genocide without the appropriate historical documents to back it up.

Without a real consensus on what the story should be, the rehearsal devolves into increasingly alarming displays of violence that blur the line between performance and reality, which leads one to ask: How much of these improvisations are the actors’ inhabitations of their characters and how much are their own subconscious beliefs?

Though the path to this utter chaos feels unrealistically abrupt — it seems to be missing a few crucial steps and any vulnerable, personal moments from the characters that would lead them to unleash their demons in a theatrical rehearsal — the audience is nevertheless forced to confront some of the darkest deeds of humanity without any airbrushing effects. By the end, the spotlight has been re-focused on one of the ugliest events in our nation’s history. The actors don’t even come back for their  traditional bow and applause — refusing to give the audience a reprieve from what’s directly in front of them. It’s as if to say, “Don’t forget, don’t look away.” It’s a message that demands absorption.

Third Culture Theatre, 1017 N. Orange Dr., Hollywood; Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. & 8 p.m.; extended through Nov. 3. https://www.thirdculturetheatre.com/. Running time: 90 minutes with no intermission.