Not That Jewish
Reviewed by Paul Birchall
Jewish Women’s Theatre at The Braid
Through May 31
RECOMMENDED
If you like your humor with a Kosher sensibility, Monica Piper’s delightful, if lightweight solo show is far more glatt than trafe – though the performer’s monologue may possibly be more palatable if you arrive at the start with a predilection for gags of the Catskills-and-Borscht Belt variety.
An example: “Ach! I have a Jewish heart… Which is different from Jewish heartburn!”
Or, maybe, “Why is there no Sabbath dinner?” “Well, I will give you a choice – would you rather cook for 9 hours or take an elevator?”
Or, even, “Every time I turn around there are more dishes in the sink!” “Well, don’t turn around then.” Ba-da-BOOM!
Piper’s performance is as much a stand up piece as it is a bona fide play, with situations occasionally shoehorned into the narrative so as to set up a certain punch line. However, it’s hard to blame her – one thing Piper knows is comedy. As we listen to her patter, we start to become aware that we are in the presence of real comedy she-mensch – someone whose delivery and timing possess a blithe breeziness that belies years of experience and artisanal practice. The play is like being present for a classic comedy act, and if you take the show in that spirit, it’s delightful.
Piper’s play consists basically of her autobiography — or as much of it as she can wrangle into a comic interpretation. The daughter of a pair of touring Vaudevillians who retired from the road to bring her up, Piper may be said to have been born into the life of schmaltz. She discovers that she is funny as a little girl, and, following a stint as a school teacher, and a brief, unhappy marriage to loathsome non-Jewish heathen, she sets off on a lifelong comedy career, which, thanks to her sheer talent, morphs into Hollywood glittering prizes — writing for Roseanne, and winning an Emmy as head writer for the children’s TV series Rugrats.
In director Eve Brandstein’s pleasingly intimate production, what elevates the show above being a merely reflexive comedy routine is the awareness that Piper’s comic spirit arises from an inner existential sadness. “Even facing the dark stuff,” Piper explains, she finds it better to find something to laugh about. Piper herself cuts an extremely likable portrait on stage: Half Jewish mama, half tongue-waggling, eye-bugging muppet, with a dash of Phyllis Diller and a Matzoh Ball soupçon of Joan Rivers. Kosher? As Piper performs, there’s more ham on stage than at a goyim’s Easter supper — but the humor is deftly performed and impeccably timed.
Jewish Women’s Theatre at The Braid, 2912 Colorado Ave, #102, Santa Monica; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7:30 p.m.; through May 31. (310) 315-1400 or www.jewishwomenstheatre.org.
