Life on Hiatus 

Reviewed by Iris Mann 
Lounge Theatre (Hollywood Fringe Festival) 
Closed 

Australian writer/ performer Lachlan the Bray has crafted an intricate piece of spoken word poetry in Life on Hiatus, with compressed portrayals of four San Francisco characters whose lives, in a sense, are “on hold,” because their expectations are unfulfilled. Though their circumstances are unfortunate, some of the four seem to be sabotaging themselves.

One of the characters is an arrogant college boy with an exaggerated self-image who can’t wait to be free of his parents as they drive him to campus. He’s weighed down by student loan debt, but nevertheless spends too much time partying, drinking and taking so many drugs that he tends to fall asleep in class. Eventually, he is blown off by a desirable woman. Another character, who turns out to be a migrant worker, also has an inflated opinion of himself and loses his job when he doesn’t show up due to an extended period of carousing. Struggling with unemployment, he can’t fulfill his responsibilities to his family until he is forced to make compromises. Then there is the career woman, an ardent feminist, who accidentally becomes pregnant but refuses to settle for a life of traditional domesticity. When she seeks an abortion, she contends with Catholic guilt and fanatical pro-life protesters.

Finally, there is the homeless veteran suffering from PTSD. His is perhaps the most tragic story because he tries to help himself, but he is ill-served by an inadequate and uncaring bureaucracy.

As writer, Bray does an admirable job of encompassing volumes within these slices of life, yet at the same time creating an overarching sense of surrealism.  But while the monologues are skillfully written, their complex structure, filled with rhymes and alliterations voiced too rapidly, lends itself more to being read than heard. One occasionally gets the impression that Bray is too much in love with his own clever craftsmanship.

Director Mia Romero might have helped him slow down the pace of his performance and inject more variety into the presentation. She might also have eased him into a deeper involvement with his subjects. As it is, his delivery tends to be declamatory, so that the viewer is distanced from the characters rather than moved by them. (Deep sympathy, disapproval, annoyance, understanding, outrage — there are a number of possible reactions that might have been provoked.)  Bray does manage to involve the viewer at select moments, such as the dramatically moving passage that comes at the end of the vet’s story, or the stirring sequence describing the pregnant woman’s encounter with religious fanatics demonstrating outside the abortion clinic. There needs to be more passages that land as powerfully. The potential is there.

It’s also there in Mark Goodwin’s sound design, which helps create a sense of the various settings but is so loud that it frequently overpowers the performer. Here, too, a little modulation would have gone a long way.

The Lounge Theatre, 6201 Santa Monica Blvd., Los Angeles; Closed. https://www.hollywoodfringe.org/projects/5048. Running time: one hour with no
intermission.