Nightmaricomio and Riot Grrrl Saves the World
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Riot Grrrl Saves The World
Reviewed by Pauline Adamek
Elephant Studio/Theatre Asylum
Through June 28RECOMMENDED:
Playwright Louisa Hill’s world-premiere play Riot Grrrl Saves The World (well directed by Scott Marden) tackles some significant issues with humor and vitality. The pervasive violence against women, the oppressive messages that permeate the media and pop culture, as well as restrictive attitudes at home and school are all given an airing by a group of teenage girls each finding their own voice through fresh, funny and authentic dialogue. While there is a justifiable undercurrent of anger and defiance beneath the way these heavy topics are addressed, Hill also ensures there is an abundance of joy, hilarity and positive energy in her political dramedy. The result is an exuberant entertainment that has plenty to say about the darker corners of life.
A feisty troupe of young actors – Zoë Lillian, Poonam Basu, Emma Servant and Tiffany Mo – convincingly and endearingly play teenagers who more or less share goals but have well-delineated personalities. The play’s parallel storylines are deftly handled with a satisfying degree of complexity. Additionally, Courtney Eaddy-Richardson plays Grrrl, a character who bookends the play.
Three revolutionary teenagers have started publishing a magazine, hoping to spread the word about feminism and positive attitudes. “It could save a girl’s life to know she’s not alone,” one opines. The trio meets on a regular basis and decides to form a punk band to gain more exposure for their cause. When a straight-laced Jehovah’s Witness girl stumbles into one of their Riot Grrrl meetings, a forbidden romance ensues. While the (now four) band members argue about just how much exposure to mainstream media they really want, they all find out just how damaging that can be.
Occasionally the scenes become didactic, such as a declamation by the central trio about how “living in a [female] body is an occupational hazard” thanks to the prevalence of sexual harassment and aggression on every level “just because you are a girl.” Another serious soliloquy vividly describes an appallingly violent assault. These heavier scenes underpin the messages of the (somewhat) lighter storyline, to excellent effect. The story is poised on the cusp of an apocalypse, which not only serves as a metaphor but, curiously, also permits an uplifting note to the play’s conclusion.
Elephant Studio/Theatre Asylum, 6320 Santa Monica Blvd., Hlywd.; hollywoodfringe.org/projects/1724
Nightmaricomio
Reviewed by Pauline Adamek
Elephant Studio/Theatre Asylum
Through June 26
A guy named Kevin (musician Kevin Van Cott) pounds away at a drum kit while a writhing ball of cast members moan and gyrate manically like a nest of vipers. And that’s pretty much it for an excruciating 35 minutes that feels like an eternity. Nightmaricomio is a lazy mash-up of two previous ZJU shows, Manicomio and Nightmares.
As we enter a small theater with all its seats removed, we see the cast in action. The men are clad in shredded zombie-like rags while the women are wearing tight, stripy aerobics wear and bras. All have their faces painted with lightning bolts and geometric designs much like the Kiss Army fan club.
Striving to be an experimental theatrical labyrinth of interwoven lives, flashbacks, dreams and apparitions haunting a dark asylum, the production plays out like an exploratory acting class. At one point the knot of actors breaks apart and they all gambol about the space, shrieking, barking, howling and drooling. Dialogue is sparse. Three times Kevin loses his cool and wants to leave, but he is talked out of it by the others. One actor spouts lines from Shakespeare’s Troilus and Cressida while later another seems to be sharing notations from her private journal. One mesmerizing if headache-inducing segment is an extended drum solo in pitch darkness, illuminated by Kevin’s blue glowing drumsticks.
While Zombie Joe’s Underground Theatre Group has performed in New York and South Africa, they haven’t ventured anywhere else in Los Angeles besides their tiny black box digs in NoHo. By rights, this first Fringe show should serve as a showcase for their special brand of Grand Guignol live comedy/horror. Instead, it’s just random snippets of macabre nonsense. Rather than attracting a wider fan base, unfortunately this train-wreck of a show may ensure theater-goers stay away in droves.
Elephant Studio/Theatre Asylum, 6320 Santa Monica Blvd., Hlywd.; hollywoodfringe.org/projects/1843