Our Love Is Here to Stay

The Hollywood Fringe – then and now
By Ashley Steed

The Hudson Theatres, one of many Fringe venues

Four years ago, after the inaugural Hollywood Fringe Festival, I wrote a piece for LA Stage about the experience. Using the stages of love as metaphors for my (and hopefully the greater LA theater community’s) experience and relationship towards Fringe, I predicted that this was a true love, and one that would grow. Just after the first Fringe, I moved to London and only recently moved back to Los Angeles — thus missing its evolution. I returned to the Fringe for its fifth anniversary with clear memories of that magical first year.

So, in continuing with the stages of love theme, is the Hollywood Fringe Festival a life-long love, or has it waivered? Well, that first year I said that in order for HFF to last, it would only do so with passion and commitment -– not just of the amazing staff (Ben and Stacy Hill, et al) but also of the greater Los Angeles theater community. That passion and commitment have grown, which is how I know this love is here to stay.

The Complex, a Fringe Festival hub

There are noticeable differences since the first year, so here are a few things worth noting.

 Previews

This definitely helps shows get their footing, but reviewers should take them with a grain of salt. I saw many previews that were simply not ready; in contrast, shows that had great previews got word-of-mouth momentum behind them.

My advice to performers – treat previews as an opening, be sure it’s the best you can make it. You want to get a buzz started immediately. A bad preview can greatly hinder your fringe success. If you really need to test it out on a preview audience, test it before fringe. Women came in after successfully performing in New York and thus were well prepared (along with other things, this is one reason why it won so many awards).

Tent

Fringe Central in 2010 (Photo by Jax Steager)

The first year we had a narrow outdoor area with a tiny bar setup in the corner and about 6 small tables. I even found a picture of it on the Internet. In 2014, the bar was much larger and more seats that often fill up, and a tent to house the Fringe Cabaret. I’ve heard stories of the magical year of the tent of 2011 so I’m not sure how this one does in comparison, but I was a fan.

Audiences

Audiences – We have them! Well, they’re growing. I think there was only one show where there was just a handful of us. The vast majority of the time, houses were nearly full. Granted there were many fringe participants doing comp swaps so many audiences were comprised of other Fringers. However, I definitely remember times the first year being the only one or one of two in the audience, so this is a huge improvement and one that needs to keep growing.

Youg(ish) People

Not only were there a lot of young audiences but the vast majority of the performers/Fringers where young companies. This is why I love fringe festivals; it gives young/new companies a chance to test the waters, to present new ideas. If they fail, oh well. If they succeed, it’s a great launching pad.

Technology

Smart phones weren’t as common in 2010. I certainly didn’t have one and it was during the first Fringe that I got into twitter. Now everyone has a smartphone and twitter is substantially more popular, I’ve definitely noticed a difference in people’s approaches to social media. Many of the shows I saw were simply because I was invited via twitter. Or some shows had a huge amount of buzz on the #hff14 hashtag so I would get tickets.

It is also nice that for the fifth year, Ben Hill introduced an app. I had time to kill in between shows, so looked at the app to what was playing at that moment nearby and thankfully stumbled upon a great show. I was also able to easily read reviews while out and about and I could look up where a venue was.

The Shows

There was a noticeable difference in the types of shows on offer. The first year, the vast majority were established (mostly autobiographical) solo shows. We then, surprisingly had quite a number of international folks coming from the UK, New Zealand and Australia. In other words – people who do multiple fringe circuits. There was a handful of ensemble work, but not much. There were also very few LA based companies – the ones that started at the first fringe have gone on to be respected practitioners in Los Angeles.

This year, ensemble companies dominated and LA based practitioners were in abundance. Even the solo shows I saw used the medium in new and inventive ways. This to me suggests a wave of young practitioners dedicated to the craft and who are looking for different ways to tell stories (while making it work on a shoestring budget). I foresee the fringe becoming a breeding ground for innovative work.

Losses

On a sadder note, where people have had time to adjust, I feel I’ve had to catch up – the first time I saw the sign for Bryan’s Bar at Fringe Central, I had a moment of silence to remember Bryan Burgess (in whose honor the bar is named, and who suddenly died at the end of the first Fringe). I wasn’t close to him but most definitely missed his presence. His grinning face was always a joy to see behind that first tiny Fringe bar.

Bryan Burgess

Likewise, my dear friend, mentor and much-loved champion of LA theater, Lee Melville – who died last year – was also sorely missed. He had been my main theater buddy the first fringe; he’s also the reason why I’m a writer. You never realize how distance affects mourning until you’re thrust back into the place where memories are harbored.

Lee Melville

Venues

Most of the venues are the same however, there’s a noticeable difference between them. The venues/producers that actively support and promote their shows and that offer a variety do the best. The first year, the godfather of the Fringe, Ezra Buzzington, programmed Theatre of NOTE very intently and had a huge success. This year Theatre Asylum and Schkapf had a steady flow of shows and queues of audiences.

A new venue of note is the bar and stage, 3 Clubs. The Fringe needed a great cabaret space and I’m so glad they stepped up to the challenge. There will be some Fringe Encore performances there so definitely go check them out.

Now onto my favorite aspect of the Hollywood Fringe Festival:

Community

For previews week I was greeted with hugs and “welcome backs.” Most of my Fringe friends haven’t seen me since that first year, so the first week was mainly one ongoing reunion. I said that I had made lifelong friendships (or Fringeships) that first year, and the overwhelming enthusiasm for my return is proof.

Throughout this fringe, I continued making new friends and chatting with other artists, many of whom I hope to work with and am excited to see how their careers grow. Nothing gets me more excited than passionate artists, and the Fringe was bursting with them.

Growth

The Fringe is growing, it’s also growing up. Although five years is very young in Fringeland, there’s a noticeable maturity to the festival. The first year had the exuberance of infinite possibilities and the “oh my god we actually made this happen” excitement. There’s still that excitement, but it’s clear the staff have a better grasp of what it takes to run a festival. They’re more confident and yet incredibly humble, as if they still can’t believe that this thing they started is still materializing.

I hope the fringe continues to grow and mature. But I hope it doesn’t get too large, and I don’t think it will. This year, 279 shows were registered. The Edinburgh Fringe had over 10 times that amount last year. I love Ed Fringe, but it simply doesn’t have the same sense of community and fellow participant support that the Hollywood Fringe has. I want the quality and reputation to grow (I’d also like to see more international companies) however I’d like it stay a manageable size that boasts a variety of shows, but still has a community atmosphere where participants actively encourage one another.

For the 2014 festival, I saw 40 shows in 13 days. A few were exceptional, most were note-worthy, and a very small number were duds. I think that’s an excellent ratio. Most importantly, the fringe serves as an energy boost, re-invigorating my passion for theater, as well as this amazing LA theatre community. Most out-of-towners I spoke to commented on the support here and how they now look at LA differently. The Hollywood Fringe proves that we are not just a theater town, but one that actively encourages the performing arts and each other.

Prince of Silver Lake

Ric Montejano (1949-2014)

By Shelly Parsons

Ric Montejano, when a student at California State University, Fullerton, in “The Indian Wants the Bronx” (Photo by Dan Strickler)

Richard (Ric) Montejano, born on September 22, 1949, found his true community in Silver Lake, CA in the 1970s where he lived as a creative artist, entrepreneur and activist on his own terms, chasing his passions and accepting the pitfalls, until he died from lung cancer on June 22, 2014 at the age of 64.

After attending CSU Fullerton, Ric was artistic director at Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s City Lights Poets Theatre in San Francisco. Back in Los Angeles Ric continued to work as an actor and director in local theatre. In 2011, he fulfilled a lifetime ambition to open a show in NYC. Mad Women, a show he directed for performance artist John Fleck, was produced at La Mama NYC after a successful run at the Skylight Theatre in Los Feliz.

By the 1990s after the AIDS epidemic had swept through the gay community in Silver Lake, Ric was compelled to chronicle his experience with a series of short stories about the Gay 1980s, AIDS, crystal meth, incest, and obsession. Spoken word performances of the stories were performed at Word Space in Los Feliz, Highways in Santa Monica and at many venues and festivals.

As a survivor, Ric became a symbol for the gay community in Silver Lake. He has the words Silver Lake tattooed across the top of his back. A portrait of Ric entitled LOST appears in Patrick Ecclesine’s book and exhibits on Faces of Sunset Blvd. Another portrait of Ric writing at his kitchen table by photographer Philip Chin was shown at the Pasadena Armory.

From Patrick Ecclesine’s book and exhibits: “Faces of Sunset Boulevard”

In a Silver Lake History Collective interview with Ric Montejano by Richard Goldin and Marco Larsen, Ric discusses his life and the evolution of the gay community in Silver Lake:

For years Ric and his foundling Chihuahua-mix dog Sparky were memorable figures on Silver Lake Blvd., especially at Ric’s curbside Saturday sale of eclectic lamps. This was a “must stop” for local shoppers who remembered Ric as proprietor of Mohawk’s, a mid-century collectables store off Sunset Blvd. in the 1990s, and appreciated both the goods and the camaraderie.

When an intrusive electronic digital billboard threatened the peaceful nature of the neighborhood in 2008, Ric and Sparky regularly stood across the street with a hand-made sign that said “HONK if you hate this billboard.” Ric’s efforts, objections, and articulation attracted major media attention and editorial coverage that eventually unleashed a flood of protests to city hall until the billboard was removed.

Ric is survived by his many friends and his community. He has summed up the life he relished and chose for himself in his short story, “Beauty,” with these words: “I don’t regret chasing the dragon or flying too close to the sun. I don’t regret biting off more than I can chew or my nose to spite my face. I don’t regret eating crow or humble pie. I don’t regret walking down roads that led nowhere. This journey is MINE.”

To send donations for several legacy projects, including publication of Ric’s Silver Lake stories, contact montejanomemorial@gmail.com .

John Fleck is dedicating his upcoming REDCAT New Original Works show Blacktop Highway to Ric Montejano

Letter From the Fringe (3)

By Paul Birchall

Bronies: The Musical

What a lot of fun this year’s Fringe is turning out to be.  I did not intend to be a cheerleader for the festival, but it has just turned out that way.  However, I think that part of the enjoyment for me has just been to hang out between shows at the Fringe Central bar and café to watch and interact with the theater folk who come and go over the course of the day.

I found myself talking with Janet Miller, director of the acclaimed Fringe production of The Fantasticks, who explained how much work actually went into the gymnastic scheduling of shows at the various theaters.  Scheduling is the most important aspect of a production – what good will it do if the only performance times you get are when no one is going to be around?

“Oh, my God,” noted Miller.  “I spent four months exchanging e-mails with the manager of the Asylum to get the show times we wanted; it was so difficult!”

One of the great hidden gems of the Fringe has been one of the shows alternating with The Fantasticks in the same space.  The Orgasmico Theatre Company’s production of The Werewolves of Hollywood Blvd: A Damnable Rock Musical is a genuinely spooky thriller, with a wonderfully intense, hummable score and dark, quirky lyrics.  A year ago, the Orgasmico delighted audiences with their gleefully bizarre Exorcistic, a whackadoo musical satire of the movie The Exorcist.  Werewolves is a more conventional musical, comparatively but the piece is still peppered with hip irony.

Literary agent Lawson (Kyle Nudo) receives a mysterious screenplay that’s been sent from a lunatic asylum, but which turns out to possess a Satanically hypnotic power that makes it all but impossible to stop reading.

The script proposes a trilogy of horror movies, set in three different eras, about three different werewolves, including crazed Medieval shape-shifter Peter Stump (David Haverti), maniacal 14^th century cannibal Jacques Roulet (Michael Shaw Fisher), and sultry Portuguese Rennaisance she-wolf Joana of Tarcouca (Leigh Wulf).  Their stories begin to affect Lawson’s mind, particularly after he’s fired by new agency CEO Governs (Jesse Merlin), and he starts to haunt Tinseltown for blood.

Michael Shaw Fisher’s book and music are top notch, combining a gothic score that’s still rock and roll punchy.  And it’s quite amazing to watch the three werewolves, particularly Wulff’s deliciously inscrutable Joana and Haverti’s terrifyingly brutal Stump.  Director Aaron Lyons’s harrowing staging is fast-paced and colorful.  Admittedly, the piece is hampered by some jumbled plotting and sound issues – the music tends to drown out the lyrics.  Still, how can you not like lines like “There’s a Werewolf on Hollywood Boulevard!   The sheep are going to fall hard!”  or “Everyone needs a Succubus, not a Mother Teresa.”  The production’s a little rough at this workshop stage, but this is a show that has great promise.

Over at the Lounge, I saw Bronies:  The Musical  — the Fringe’s current “break out” effort. It’s to the Fringe what Blair Witch was to Sundance – partially because it has hit a note with the public, of course, and partly due to a Tweet from cartoonist tycoon Stan Lee. That said, the musical is unable to live up to the fecundity of its premise.  Bronies are, if you haven’t heard, young men in their teens (or older) who happen to be fans of the children’s TV show My Little Pony, a program that is more commonly targeted at little (and I mean little) girls.

There was a recent movie on the subject of Bronies (Bronies:  The Extremely Unexpected Adult Fans of My Little Pony) which clearly inspired the writer-composer team of Joe Greene (music) and Heidi Powers and Tom Moore (lyrics).  The idea of a musical about dudes who happen to like a TV show aimed at tiny little girls, and about rainbows and unicorns certainly is inventive, though the show itself is disappointingly prosaic.

The one episode I viewed of My Little Pony is really very sweet, with an underlying wit and a fast-paced excitement that underscores the dancing unicorns and flying blue ponies.

Bronies: The Musical

Bronies centers on three young adults — high school geek Tyler (Mark Gelsomini), popular basketball jock Austin (Matthew Hermann), and recent college graduate Jacob (Jeffrey Christopher Todd) – tussle with all the usual strains of youth:  Tyler is bullied, Austin is worried he isn’t taken seriously as a smart kid, and Jacob is trying to find a job as an artist but his stern school principal dad (Kurt Koehler) insists he work as the school’s janitor instead.  By chance, each of the three boys catches an episode of the TV show, and they’re hooked.  Before long, Tyler has learned to stand up to the bullies, Austin makes peace with his gentler side, and Jacob comes out of the closet and finds a boyfriend.  All with the help of a group of the Little Ponies (played by a chorus of backup singers).

Director Ryan Bergmann’s upbeat and ever-cheerful production boasts the genuinely imaginative idea of having the Little Ponies portrayed by a team of Dreamgirls-like backup singers, dressed in the iconic colors of their TV characters.  Otherwise, though, the musical’s straightforward “kids find self confidence” storyline is stale and only tepidly involving.  It would, frankly, be more exciting if the Ponies actually played more of a role in the story;  as it is, they’re just set dressing. The score’s halting melodies are tinny, while the lyrics are top heavy with limp clichés.  Still, as the three Bronies, Gelsomani, Hermann, and Todd assay their roles with utter conviction, while the Dreamgirls-Ponies are also delightful.

Digital Dionysus

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
By Terry Morgan

The National Theatre’s production of “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time” (Photo by Manuel Harlan)

As someone who loves theater but doesn’t have the wherewithal to travel across the country or the globe to see particular productions, I’ve wished for a long time that theater companies would preserve their shows in some way. The longstanding argument against this was that it would reduce the live show’s audience or profit margin, but this always seemed short-sighted to me. If you’re doing a show of possible national or international interest, there is a lot of potential audience that will never be able to attend, simply due to time or distance. The other argument would be that seeing something on DVD or in a cinema can’t compare to seeing it live in a theater. I don’t disagree with that, but isn’t it better to have the option to see something at least in some format than never to see it at all? Thankfully, London’s National Theatre started broadcasting recordings of their productions in movie theaters back in 2009, and this experiment has been a resounding success, artistically and commercially.

The first time NT Live broadcasts one of its plays, it’s a live performance sent via satellite to whatever theaters have agreed to present it, but shown on a delay due to the difference in time zones. Then there are some encore performances of that recording over months or more than a year, such as shows like Danny Boyle’s popular version of Frankenstein. This is convenient for audience members, who have multiple opportunities to catch a show they may have missed. As of this writing, Los Angeles has three venues that regularly carry NT Live productions: the Downtown Independent, the Sundance Sunset Cinemas and the James Bridges Theater at UCLA. I’ve attended several of the NT Live screenings, and they’ve always been well-attended, such as the encore presentation of The Curious Incident of The Dog in The Night-Time, which I caught at the Downtown Independent recently.

Photo by Manuel Harlan

The Curious Incident of the Dog in The Night-Time is based on the best-selling novel by Mark Haddon, and was adapted for the stage by Simon Stephens. The production was revived in London in June, and is slated to appear on Broadway, at the Barrymore, this coming September.

Christopher (Luke Treadaway) is a 13-year-old who is skilled with math but whose autism causes him difficulties in dealing with others. He’s been raised by his rough but well-meaning father Ed (Paul Ritter), after Christopher’s mother Judy (Nicola Walker) died of a heart attack years before. Christopher discovers a murdered dog on a neighbor’s lawn, and he decides to investigate the crime on his own. What he discovers during this investigation uncovers not only the perpetrator of the crime but also uncomfortable facts about his own life.

Treadaway is believable and sympathetic in the lead role, onstage for the entirety of the show, although the character of Christopher as written feels a bit too earnest. Ritter is fine as Ed, a father whose weariness and stress over raising Christopher solo makes his temper unsteady. Walker is terrific as Judy, particularly in a scene where her initially pleasant memories of raising Christopher gradually and inexorably become an attack against his existence. Una Stubbs is charming as the kind neighbor Mrs. Alexander, whose concern for Christopher leads to unexpected trouble.

Photo by Manuel Harlan

Director Marianne Elliott does a remarkable job of visualizing Haddon’s novel, and her staging is truly the star of the show. The set is a rectangular grid with light-emitting diodes in the floor that combine with Paule Constable’s lighting and Finn Ross’s video projections to create vivid locations — from a moving subway train to the stunning use of the entire stage as a moving escalator. Elliott manages the actors to superb effect, constantly moving them on and offstage as neighbors, crowds or even pieces of scenery, although the movement sometimes seems overly balletic. The overhead view often offered by this recording is actually an improvement of sitting in the theater, because it fully displays the production in a way that an audience at the theater couldn’t see.

My only two quibbles about the show both derive from the marketing of the source material. The book and the play are both marketed as if it’s a quirky feel-good story, when in fact it’s a serious drama. People may well be surprised by how much the protagonist is made to suffer. Secondly, that nobody other than Christopher seems overly concerned about a dog that’s been impaled by a pitchfork on a suburban lawn is simply surreal, particularly in animal-loving Britain.

The Downtown Independent, where I saw this screening, is a friendly venue that serves both beer and wine and has a convenient parking lot next door and street parking available. This is a dazzling and innovative show, and is well worth the time of any theatergoer.

The Curious Incident screens at the James Bridges Theater at UCLA on June 22. For more information, check out ntlive@nationaltheatre.org.uk and downtownindependent.com.

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Letter From the Fringe: June 19

By Paul Birchall

Our distinguished correspondent, Paul Birchall, hard at work at Fringe Central

As you run into folks in passing at the Hollywood Fringe this year, you start to discover something a little odd.  No one is seeing the same plays!  Is this an unusual year in that respect?  You find yourself having the same exchange again and again – “Oh, so what have you seen that’s good?” “Well, I saw so-and-so, did you see that?”  “Well, no, but did you see such-and-such?” “Nooo, but did you see this-and-that?”  This conversation is repeated over and over again at Fringe Central, but with different play titles:  It’s like one of those games of concentration in which you try to “match” titles and are never able to.

Everyone is also chasing around, looking for the Golden Ticket — the play that’s just so perfect it alone will justify wading through the dozens of other lesser plays.  Here’s the truth, though:  I am not absolutely sure that Golden Play actually exists.  It’s like the Unicorn or the Yeti.  There’s no secret Next Big Thing hiding in the sub-basement of the Underground Basement Theater (formerly a soap box, I’m sure).  However, I do think that there are any number of really good, fun plays that are more than worth your time and money.  And they can almost just be stumbled upon, let alone searched out for.

This is, I think, one of the benefits of the non-curated festival: Unless you are coming to a certain play for a certain reason – if you know the playwright, the star, or the director – there’s a pleasing random aspect to the festival, whose structure suggests that we need to see at least several plays and then judge the experience as an accumulated aggregate.

Mariah Freda

For instance, I found myself at the Asylum Theater (again) for a rather randomly selected play that happened to be going on just when I had an hour free.   Playwright performer Mariah Freda’s Jesus H. is, in many ways, quite a typical solo show:  It’s Freda’s autobiography, told in a series of interwoven monologues, with the emphasis on religion.  On a cross-country plane flight, Freda finds herself sitting next to an African-American passenger who turns out to be a Jehovah’s Witness.  At first, Freda wants to ridicule the woman – but her comments send her into a series of meditations on the role of religion in her life.

Freda, a young, appealing performer, is charismatic and tells her story with energy and a sense of humor – but the rather routine tales of prancing about at Catholic school and of certain stern teachers are a little lightweight, as is Samantha Jones’s workman-like direction.  So, this is not the Golden Ticket.  On the other hand, it was perfectly enjoyable – and the audience appeared to get a lot out of it.

It’s almost hard to get one’s head around the huge number of shows in the Festival.  An example:  As I left Theatre Asylum, I was startled to see a rather absurd spectacle:  A long line of groups of productions, stretching down Lillian Way, all carrying different props and set pieces, waiting patiently for the shows before them to finish up so they could get into one of the six little theaters and set up.  It’s just so funny:  There’s a group of people in a bunch dressed in Renn Fair outfits – and over there, here are some folks dressed in office wear, except carrying gigantic stuffed sharks and telephones.  It’s like a series of costume parties, one right after the other.

Across the boulevard, at the Hudson Guild studio theater, I found myself attending Survivor’s Guilt, playwright-director David Love’s funny, but flawed comedy about cynicism and media.  Franklin (Bryan Coffee, channeling nebbish Woody Allen perhaps a little too overtly) is having trouble publishing his novel, so he rewrites it as a memoir, pretending the author is an 89 year old Holocaust survivor.  The complications are predictable – and they ensue when the publisher (an excellent, intimidating Paul Zegler) demands to meet the real author.  Franklin and his wife Rachel (Becca Murray) hire effete, elegant actor Nigel (William Knight) to portray the old Survivor, but before long, the old man has edged Franklin out of his writing and out of his marriage.

Yes, the notion of poking fun using the Holocaust as a context is indeed a bit of a deal breaker, I suppose, but if one gets past this single (admittedly glaring) notional misstep, this is a really funny farce about deceit and ego.  And the performances are really delightful, with the work cast with a brilliant ensemble of the most compelling character actors you ever saw.  Knight, whose captivating ham actor Nigel shifts effortlessly from pompous RSC-type thespian to sweetly vulnerable alter-kocher, is amazing – and so is Goldberg, as the crusty, heartless publisher.  You just wish that Love had chosen a different backstory from the Holocaust, which is predictably hard to make “funny.”

The thing to do after you see a show, even if it’s nominally a feelgood comedy that uses cheating and lying about the Holocaust as a central conceit, is to hang out at the delightful Fringe Central Station, which, this year, is in that former Post Office parking lot across the street from the Complex.  I have ranted and raved for years that one of the things that LA needs is a café that’s dedicated to the theater community — Chicago has one, New York has several – and now, for a couple of weeks, at least, so does Los Angeles.

There’s really nothing much nicer than “holding court” at the Fringe Central after the show!  It’s where the cast of almost every show goes after their curtain goes down – for a critic, it can be a little daunting, particularly if you’re about to pan a show, and there they all are having a drink at the next table.  For instance, I attended Short Plays For All Your Problems, Aaron Kozak’s collection of clever, but uneven skits, which generally demonstrate a good sense of dialogue humor but a weaker feeling for plot and structure.

A couple of the nine or 10 sketches are really rather ingenious:  There’s a crime drama satire in which a homicide detective interviews the characters from the Wizard of Oz for killing the Wicked Witch, for instance.  And there’s another really charming vignette, with some homages to Beckett, in which a talking pumpkin (Trevor David) and a penguin (Lenny Hernandez) discuss the inevitability of death.  But for the most part, these are slight pieces.

The problem, of course, was that, after the show, I trooped across the street to the Fringe Center for a drink – and so did they, trailing across the boulevard after the next show “loaded into” the Complex space they vacated.  It’s fortunate, though, one can easily bury oneself in any number of theater conversations at neighboring tables quite simply:  All you have to do is ask anyone at the café “what are you in?” or, if you are not able to do that, you can ask “so what have you seen that’s good?”

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Hamlet Max

Reviewed by Neal Weaver

Schkapf
Through June 24

Despite initial claims that this production is set in post-apocalyptic Denmark, director-adapter Jacob Sidney has given us a brisk, fast-moving and ultimately conventional production. The projected comic-book-style settings by Hillary Bauman and the eccentric costumes by Angi Bell Ursetta are initially startling: Hamlet (director Sidney) has crimson-dyed hair with a white stripe circling his head, a man’s suit-coat with sleeves cut out, and bare feet, with garish red toe-nail polish. But the play’s sweep soon makes us forget the oddities, though Sidney often seems more interested in the exotic externals than in a serious exploration of the text.

Aside from some gender-blind casting, the only stylistic innovation is the handling of the soliloquies, which are delivered as voice-overs, with the texts projected on an upstage screen. This makes for clarity, but puts the focus sharply on the words rather than on actor or interpretation. Sidney’s Hamlet has wit, fencing skills, and a rumbustious style, but the “sweet prince” is not in evidence. Jonathan Goldstein is an impressive Claudius, Kellie Mattson is an athletic Laertes, and Coryn Cummins is a sweetly naïve Ophelia, blighted by the traumatic events that overtake her, while Matt Henerson gives a contemporary feeling to Polonius and a bare-chested Grave-digger. –Neal Weaver

Central City Productions at Schkapf, 6567-6585 Santa Monica Blvd., www.hollywoodfringe.org/projects/1658

This review is offered via a partnership between L.A. Weekly and Stage Raw. To maximize coverage of the Hollywood Fringe Festival, the two publications are sharing reviews and funding responsibilities. Stage Raw is an Emerge Project of the Pasadena Arts Council, with other funding coming from a combination of advertising and individual donors.  For the L.A. Weekly, please visit www.laweekly.com

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Letter From the Fringe

Casual observations, along with reviews of Linden Arden Stole the Highlights, and The Wake

By Paul Birchall

With a bit of time to kill in my oh-so-hectic reviewing schedule, I found myself hanging out at the Asylum on Monday night.  Not the lunatic asylum, but the Asylum Theatre that’s part of the Elephant Theater complex on Santa Monica Boulevard and Lillian Street, which is one of the centers for Hollywood Fringe shows this month.

When the Fringe is on, one of the great things is that you can stay put in a single place and the plays come to you, rotate in and out, and then move on.  Don’t like a show you’re seeing?  Well, all right:  Here comes another one.

Another thing I’ve been startled to notice is that folks who keep telling you that LA Theater is dead or dying are completely misinformed:  Show after show I’ve seen so far, even in the preview week, have been sold out to the point that the box office folk turn away almost a dozen people each hour.  Lord help you if you don’t have an “in” to help you score a coveted seat, even for one of The Complex flea dens.

That was certainly the case for the Monday performance of playwright Colin Mitchell’s excellently moody Linden Arden Stole the Highlights, a remounting of his original 1994 production which Mitchell wrote and starred in.  Mitchell is, as locals know, the publisher and editor-in-chief of the indispensable Bitter Lemons website – and it’s a pleasure to see him prove that he can put his money where his mouth is — not just opine upon the theatrical issues of the day, but also cut a mean theatrical figure on the stage as well.

Linden Arden might be best called a character portrait — it’s an attempt to create a living context for the protagonist of a famous Van Morrison song about a small-time crook who steals some cash and hides out in a remote village, until the past catches up with him in a terrifying way.  Mitchell’s performance is suffused with geniality that lurches unexpectedly into flashes of rage and madness — it’s a fascinating if inscrutable acting turn that’s not just “organic” and believable, it also seems so natural, we almost wonder if it’s acting at all.

The show opens with Mitchell’s Arden greeting us with the easy going affability of a laid back barkeep – the performer passes out shots of real whiskey to any audience member who says yes to his invitation.  And yet, his undercurrents of melancholy and anger – rather Tony Soprano-like, really – erupt with terrifying ease.  If the show’s script comes across as being a tad light in the narrative scope department, Mitchell’s harrowing turn is enough to keep us engaged.

It is an interesting side element of The Fringe that, after a show, folks tend to congregate outside the theater like Stage Door Johnnies, sometimes waiting for the next show, sometimes just hanging out hoping to talk theater.  The passion of the audience is delightful and palpable.

I found myself arguing about the merits of Mitchell’s show, for instance, with a young Colombian actor, recently arrived from New York, where he had worked with Judith Molina’s Living Theater.  I asked him what brought him out to Los Angeles from New York, where he had a strong career going in the underground scene.

“Oh I dreamed about it,” the young actor replied.  I noted that many folks have the dream of coming to LA and achieving stardom, but he just shook his head.  “No, you don’t understand:  I dreamed it.  I had a dream in which I came out here, [so I] knew I had to.”

The Wake

Even more of a surprise was the delight at the play that followed Mitchell’s opus in the exact same Asylum space — playwright performer Ben Moroski’s hilarious solo dark comedy The Wake, a pleasingly meta-romance about necrophilia and neuroses.  Moroski, with impeccable comic timing, portrays a substitute teacher putting on a one-man workshop play in hopes of expiating his conflicted feelings over a simply appalling love affair he’s conducting with someone who might best be called a real stiff.

In director Nick Massough’s compellingly dynamic staging, Moroski exudes an insane energy, even as he also appears to strongly resemble every 20-something hipster we’ve ever seen with love troubles.  It’s a fast-paced, constantly hilarious, offbeat show that takes the stock parameters of the Fringe’s one-hour format and turns it neatly into something strange, creepy, and joyfully funny.  This is likely to be one of the big break-out solo-show  hits of the Fringe.

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Bike Odyssey LA

Schkapf
Through June 14.

RECOMMENDED:

“This is your city. Welcome home.”

Sometimes traversing the large urban sprawl that is Los Angeles can feel like an odyssey in and of itself – that is why this walking-tour performance Bike Odyssey LA, which takes Homer’s Odyssey and fuses it with Los Angeles, works so well.

We are greeted by a collection of characters who take us on our journey where we meet Odysseus (Jesse Sirkus-Brown), triumphant in the Trojan War and ready to return home. After a sacrifice of kale to the gods, we are given our sailor names and begin our long journey throughout Hollywood. We literally stop traffic to cross the raging seas (aka Santa Monica Blvd.), get caught in a storm, write poetry and drink wine, battle the Cyclops (Vanessa Conlon) built out of a car and road cone, meet Circe (Bree Cardenas), a Hollywood starlet who turns some of the sailors into pigs, and tie Odysseus to a bike so he can sail past the Sirens. After entering the gates of hell by sharing a personal obstacle, we traverse into the land of the dead (where a random woman walking down the street joined us for a bit), and share stories of LA with the Venice Beach lotus-eaters before finally returning home (to the theater) where Odysseus is reunited with his wife Penelope (Linda Ravenswood).

The entire journey is an epic poem to and about Los Angeles. It’s clear that director Brian Sonia-Wallace (who also conceived the show) and his ensemble love this city through their use of history and humor. They blend gang wars, gentrification, hipsters, USC, Hollywood, the 1992 riots, immigration and more into the Greek tale, making it a truly unique story of LA in all of its complicated facets.

The bold ambition of this project is commendable; however, there is still a lot of developing, refining, and fine-tuning that needs to be done. At times the audience participation feels clunky and forced, which takes you out of the experience. It would be nice to have the participation come more organically from the story – which also needs more fleshing out. Since it is such a condensed adaptation, we never really get the expansive and exhaustive arch of Odysseus’s journey home.

Overall, the ensemble is engaging, energetic and enchanting. As we move from place to place on our journey, they create a tribal soundscape, interweaving voices – something that could be developed with more specificity to the story. There’s also some inventive and playful staging. The ensemble want to make sure that we all feel safe and comfortable on this journey together, thus the use of humor in the beginning (and throughout) works well in getting the audience primed to partake of the wine (both metaphorically and literally).

This piece was developed with cycling as part of the experience. Since the Fringe perfs are walking tours, I will definitely try their cycling shows in the post-Fringe Festival future and look forward to seeing how the project continues to develop.—Ashley Steed

Schkapf, 6567 Santa Monica Blvd., Sat., June 14, 1 p.m.,

https://www.hollywoodfringe.org/projects/1870?

The Fantasticks

Lillian Theatre
Through June 29

RECOMMENDED:

Photo by Sherry Barnett

Those who have fond memories of this 1959 musical will likely find much to enjoy in Good People Theater Company’s production. Audiences coming to it fresh (such as myself) might miss the rush of nostalgia but should still be pleasantly entertained.

The Fantasticks is a remake of Edmond Rostand’s Les Romanesques, about next-door neighbors Matt (Matt Franta) and Luisa (Audrey Curd), whose fathers conspire to get them to fall in love, and how the world conspires to pull them apart.

Curd captures Luisa’s sense of romantic mania perfectly, and she delivers a charming version of the song “Much More.” Franta is a bit bland as Matt, but he and Curd offer a nice duet in “Soon It’s Gonna Rain.” Matt Stevens and Michael P. Wallot are both amusing in their comedic roles, and Joey D’Auria is very funny as the forgetful old actor Henry. Christopher Karbo, unfortunately, doesn’t quite bring the necessary brio to the narrator El Gallo, although his singing voice is strong.

Director Janet Miller does a lot with a little. Her staging adds a lively energy to numbers such as “Never Say No.” The decision to bring in harpist Jillian Risigari-Gai reaps musical dividends, adding to the story’s magical feeling. — Terry Morgan

Lillian Theatre, 1076 Lillian Way, https://www.hollywoodfringe.org/projects/1513?

Angels and Whiskey

The Actors Company
Through June 27

Photo Courtesy: Dusty Bums Productions

In this dense and interesting one act by Joshua Thomas, someone named John (Bruce Cervi) finds himself in a bar, with the maddening sensation of downing the very same drink over and over again. In walks a well-spoken stranger (Thomas) – the Devil as it turns out – come to enlighten John on his peculiar status as a spirit lodged in his own personal corner of Heaven. Trouble is, John feels he’s in Hell. With Lucifer doing most of the talking, they engage in a discourse about faith and the lack of it, actions and their consequences, the world as we know it and the Hereafter. After a few drinks, even Lucifer himself expresses doubts and resentments.

Thomas, who also directs, is a charismatic presence as the erudite Dark Angel, a companionable dude who’d be fun to hang with were it not for his ulterior motives. Cervi and Daniel J. Parker as a cryptic bartender do fine, but they are upstaged. It’s evident their performances and the production as a whole would benefit from a third eye.—Deborah Klugman

Dusty Bums Productions at The Actors Company, 950 N. Formosa Ave., www.hollywoodfringe.org/projects/1632.

Dramatis Personae

Theatre Asylum
Through June 27

Photo Courtesy: Vespertine Productions

Solo performer Kristopher Lee Bicknell focuses on the work of lesser known playwrights throughout the centuries, performing material which for one reason or another has become obscure. This conceit is part of a sly game involving co-writers directors Sean Dillon and Curtis Krick.

As a commentary of forgery and plagiarism, the piece is a walloping success: The performance itself is a bit less impressive, showcasing a developing talent rather than a mature one. When, at one point, Bicknell the performer seems to be having a breakdown, the effect is unconvincing, then annoying (enough with the artistic angst!) then confusing. Ultimately, the show unwinds like a complex exercise in an acting class, albeit a more advanced one.—Deborah Klugman

Vespertine Productions at Theatre Asylum, 6320 Santa Monica Blvd., https://www.hollywoodfringe.org/projects/1768?details

Four Tree Plays

Schkapf
Through June 29

Photo by Anne Mesa

The quartet of short plays benefits from a versatile ensemble and some amusing writing but suffers from a somewhat random raison d’être.

Nicolas Hoover’s “Seeking Still” is the slightest of the lot, with four different types of trees using an Internet dating service. Leilani Marie Smith brings charm and vivacity as a Valley Girl-esque apple tree. “Tree Counsel” by Stina Pederson is the most dramatic offering, concerning the meeting of lonely, religious Ralph (Whit Spurgeon) and archeologist Candace (Smith) at a forest dig. Spurgeon is quietly unnerving as Ralph, creating doubts as to the character’s motives, but the story ultimately doesn’t add up to much after considerable buildup.

Brendan Weinhold and Spencer Seibert’s “Sophistree” is the most successful of the pieces, wherein a suicidal tree (Dawn Alden) tells nature activist Keith (Weinhold) that she wants to be cut down. Alden has a strong comedic presence as the blunt tree, and the play is funny until an overwrought conclusion. Jennie Fahn’s “Does it Make a Sound?” rounds out the production, a cute sketch about a squirrel’s love for a tree, and Weinhold scores as a seductive feline. — Terry Morgan

Ray Burley Productions at Schkapf, 6567 Santa Monica Blvd., https://www.hollywoodfringe.org/projects/1508?

These reviews are offered via a partnership between L.A. Weekly and Stage Raw. To maximize coverage of the Hollywood Fringe Festival, the two publications are sharing reviews and funding responsibilities. Stage Raw is an Emerge Project of the Pasadena Arts Council, with other funding coming from a combination of advertising and individual donors.  For the L.A. Weekly, please visit www.laweekly.com

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The Art of Making Music

Composer Charles Fox, on the most difficult piece of music he’s ever written, and why he’s never had writer’s block

By Rebecca Haithcoat

Composer Charles Fox

A few years ago, composer Charles Fox’s wife asked him for a favor. Would he play a little concert in a friend’s living room for the Fulfillment Fund, the charity he co-founded and she was president of? The legendary composer, who lists “Killing Me Softly” (made famous by Roberta Flack) among his many hits, said sure. They invited people and hoped they would raise money.

It was such a success that the next year, Fox invited a few of his colleagues to perform. With buddies like Bill Withers, Kenny Loggins, Sergio Mendes taking the stage, the annual “Songs of Our Lives” concert has become a huge smash.

On June 7, at the Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts in Beverly Hills, two different powerhouses will be featured — Lamont Dozier, whose career includes over 50 No. 1 records for artists such as the Supremes and Marvin Gaye; and David Crosby, a defining figure in the folk rock music scene and founding member of The Byrds, and Crosby, Stills & Nash.

We talked to Fox about how he started his own star-studded career, the most difficult piece of music he’s ever written and why he’s never had writer’s block.

STAGE RAW: When did you start playing?

CHARLES FOX: I started playing piano when I was quite young. I went to the High School of Music & Art, one of the great art schools in the country—it merged with a school called Performing Arts, the school from Fame, and is now called LaGuardia High School of the Music & Art and Performing Arts. I go back and speak to the students, the songwriters and the composers. We didn’t even have a songwriting course when I was there! Of course things have changed, but things have not changed. Everyone needs help, everyone needs mentoring.

SR: Who were those mentors and helpers for you?

CF: I left high school and, for a year, I studied privately with two of my high school teachers, my composition teacher and my orchestration teacher. And I was playing in bands and writing music for them. A year following that, I went to Paris, which was a life-changing experience for me. I studied with Nadia Boulanger, known as the greatest composition teacher of the 20^th century. People came to her from around the world. I stayed for two years and saw her three or four times a week for lessons. She influenced my life to this day. This concert is one of the ways that I can start to return that to other people who want to get started and need the help.

SR: What do you see as the golden door, the one opportunity that changed the course of your life?

CF: You know, I’ve had a lot of doors like that. It wasn’t just one. When I came out to California when I was 28, the folks at Paramount Pictures appreciated my work and kept me busy. I met Henry Mancini my first day in California, and he invited me to join the Motion Picture Academy. That was a big deal. But the biggest influence in my life was Nadia Boulanger. She’s someone I take with me to this day. I got to understand the depth music can achieve, the height you can bring out in terms of expression, and the beauty of the music of the past.

How is the music business different now from when you first started?

It is different, first of all. Most of television work is done with electronics, synthesizers. Most people working do it at their homes and supply the finished tape. It seems to me most of the work is not done with orchestras at studios, but by composers at their homes. But the writing for film is pretty much the same process. You look at the film, you spend time with it, you decide where the music goes, discuss with the director, and you compose. I would sit at my piano and play themes for directors, describing what was going on cinematically. I always figure music as a character in the film, a silent character who adds substance and feeling and drama.

Has your personal process changed over the years?

For one thing, I used to work day and night! [laughs] I don’t do that anymore. I love the process, putting notes down on paper. When I’m involved in a project, it’s pretty much on my mind 24 hours a day—whether or not I’m sitting at my desk anymore is a different issue. I’ve been doing a lot more concert work lately. I’ve written ballets and have been doing a lot more conducting. And since my book [Killing Me Softly: My Life in Music, published by Hal Leonard] came out, I’ve been sitting at the piano and telling my stories.

Fox, in concert

What’s the most difficult piece you’ve worked on?

I don’t know if I could single that out. Every piece has its own challenge. I’m always nervous whether it will be good. Is it too much? Did I go too overboard here, is it too hard here? At the same time, it’s a joy for me to see how it grows. There’s always a thought of how best to do that, but fortunately for me, the music has never stopped.

Has anything ever just flowed out, just poured out of you?

Yes. And when it does, I feel nervous I’ve taken someone else’s music. [laughs] I think, “Who did I steal that from?” I’m used to working hard on music. To be honest, “Killing Me Softly” came very easily. Norman Gimbel and I talked about writing a song called “Killing Me Softly,” and he went home and called me a couple hours later with a lyric. I sat at the piano for a couple hours and we had a song.

Do you ever have writer’s block?

I’ve never had writer’s block. I’ve never not had the ability to sit down and write music, however, it’s not always good right off the bat. Sometimes I hate what I write. I just keep trying things out. The work comes from the work. To me, the work doesn’t come from the inspiration to sit down and work, it comes from the work itself. I get up, get dressed, have my breakfast and sit down to work with no thoughts in my mind, necessarily. When I sit down, I don’t always fall in love with what I do and even when I start to like what I’m doing, I keep working, keep honing, sometimes even up until the day of the performance or recording. I can keep working on a piece forever.

Right. Continually tweaking.

Exactly. Something always can be changed. But there finally comes a time when you have to put down the pen.

What do you listen to for pleasure?

Mostly classical music. I love Latin music, salsa. I used to write salsa and play in Latin bands when I was young. My early songs were in Spanish. I didn’t speak it, but I had a good feel for it. [laughs] I played and wrote music for Tito Puente.

What’s been the most unusual twist or turn of your career?

I was trained as a classical composer, but I spent a good deal of my life doing pop and rock and roll records and arrangements. Finding myself on a stage conducting orchestras around the world, sitting at the piano and performing for people, telling them my stories — I never dreamed of that.

Lamont Dozier

David Crosby (Photo by Django Cro)

The Seventh Annual Songs of Our Lives concert, featuring Lamont Dozier and David Crosby, will take place Saturday, June 7 at the Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts. Visit www.fulfillment.org/concert for tickets.

On Transparency and the Fourth Wall

by Zayd Dohrn

Erica Bitton and Darren Keefe in “Muckrakers” at Art of Acting Studio

My new play, Muckrakers (now playing at the Art of Acting Studio, 1017 N. Orange Drive in Hollywood), is set in a private space (a bedroom in a tiny Brooklyn apartment) and depicts an intimate encounter (a one-night stand) between a fugitive European journalist and a young American activist. The two spend a long night drinking, fighting, having sex, and exposing one another’s dangerous and damaging secrets. And while the fourth wall between audience and stage remains unbroken, the transparency of that separation between public and private is in fact the central concern of the play.

I’m always drawn to stories that link the personal and the political. The theater is a perfect place for those stories because it, more than any other literary form, is built for the collision of the private and the public. Unlike a novel or a poem, which can be consumed in solitude, a performance of a play (even one designed for a single performer and single audience member) is always an interaction, both a personal expression and a social event, joining the private (a writer’s imagination) with the public (an audience’s experience) through the convention of that transparent fourth wall.

Transparency, of course, also happens to be one of the great professed ideals of the 21st century, championed by the 1% and the 99% alike. On his first day of office in 2009, President Obama famously declared that “government should be transparent,” and, vowing an end to Bush-era secrecy, pledged that his administration would be “committed to creating an unprecedented level of openness in government.” A few years later, the General Assembly of Occupy Wall Street resolved that “Without accountability and transparency, the will of the people has no meaning,” and Google CEO Eric Schmidt managed to unite Silicon Valley utopianism and Big Brother paranoia in a single interview, arguing for “true transparency and no anonymity,” while suggesting that “If you have something that you don’t want anyone to know, maybe you shouldn’t be doing it in the first place.”

Darren Keefe and Erica Bitton in “Muckrakers”

The idea that increased visibility can cure our social ills is nothing new. In Ancient Greece, Diogenes the Cynic chose to live in the open marketplace, eating, sleeping, and masturbating in public to draw attention to the hypocrisy of Athenian society. During the French Renaissance, Michel de Montaigne urged the virtuous man to build his home entirely out of glass, forcing him to reconcile his private life and public image. And in the late 18th Century, British social reformer (and designer of the Panopticon) Jeremy Bentham argued that both “transparency and surveillance are a positive way of making all things present in order to generate understanding and make life better for all.”

But transparency works both ways; in the era of Twitter and blogs, of selfies and sex tapes, many of us have made a conscious choice to share, and over-share, the details of our private lives. And while governments and corporations strive to create what Julian Assange foresees as a “postmodern surveillance dystopia,” their efforts are increasingly complicated and undermined by new forms of counter-surveillance or sousveillance — watching from below — by hackers, leakers, whistleblowers, and ordinary people who document and share what they see with the world. Increased transparency, in other words, has led us not just to NSA wiretaps and surveillance drones, but to Wikileaks,

Enter Edward Snowden, Anthony Weiner, and the Arab Spring.

Playwright Zayd Dohrn

I wrote Muckrakers during the aftermath of the uproar created by Wikileaks’s disclosure of classified State Department cables, and since then, the trends I wanted to explore in the play have only accelerated; by the time Muckrakers was produced a year later (at Barrington Stage [in western Massachusetts] in 2013), the premiere coincided exactly with Snowden’s revelations about NSA wiretapping and another round of media self-examination about the role of transparency in public and private life.

So Muckrakers was written, and takes place, at a moment when our most basic assumptions about openness and privacy are being challenged. The characters in the play are, like the man in Montaigne’s glass house, exposed to the public eye. They can never assume, even within their own homes and intimate relationships, that they will remain unseen. And while they may not know they are onstage, by the end of the play, the characters are forced to confront the fact that they are living inside walls that have become suddenly, frighteningly, transparent. And so they grapple with the same basic questions we all now face: Is there a virtue in concealment? Any moral or societal drawbacks to constant visibility? And what have we sacrificed, as individuals and as a society, in the name of greater and greater transparency?

Zayd Dohrn’s plays plays have recently been presented by Manhattan Theatre Club, Berkshire Theatre Festival, MCC, Marin Theatre Company, The Public (SPF), Naked Angels, South Coast Rep, The Vineyard, Southern Rep, Kitchen Dog, The Lark, and New York Theatre Workshop. An LA premiere production of his play Reborning will open at the Fountain Theater in August. He is currently writing screenplays for American Film Company and Vox3 Films. Mr. Dohrn is the son of the former Weather Underground leaders Bill Ayers, now an education professor at the University of Illinois at Chicago, and Bernardine Dohrn. 

Muckrakers is being performed at the Art of Acting Studio, 1017 N. Orange Drive in Hollywood through July 2. Read Martin Hernandez’s Stage Raw review.