Sonata for Rimbaud

Reviewed by Paul Birchall

In his solo show, creator-performer Abbott Alexander presents several monologues clearly influenced by the life and mindset of the influential French poet Arthur Rimbaud, whose writings blazed in glory during his teens. Rimbaud foreswore poetry at age 19 and then died of bone cancer at age 37. 

One can’t tell what Rimbaud himself would think about the show:  Probably the Rimbaud we’ve read about would down a jug of absinthe, sneer, and walk out after the first vignette to dally with some pus-spewing coquette. (Rimbaud’s poems ooze pus, remember.) But for the rest of us, Alexander puts on a perfectly pleasant, unexceptional show. 

Alexander is an energetic, charismatic performer who adroitly leaps about the stage with a smirk and a vaguely sinister sparkle in his eye. He possesses the gravelly voice of a foul-mouthed taxi driver, and he’d seem to be an ideal avatar to communicate the randomness and ambiguity of the surrealist cause Rimbaud founded. 

That said, Alexander’s writing ultimately consists of only sputteringly engaging vignettes that are generally too light in content to do more than suggest an earnest, slightly better-than-average recitation at a poetry open mic night. In one piece, Alexander describes the miserable existence of a parking valet, ignored and debased by wealthy customers who don’t realize that, beneath his white collar, he’s covered with muck and dirt.

In another, he portrays a BMX biker (or some kind of a sports bicycle enthusiast, really, it’s hard and unrewarding to try and figure it out) who experiences his epiphanies while zooping about on his big ole bicycle.  There’s a different, odd segment in which Alexander plays a man who’s approached by a creepy beggar, an old man who demands that the younger man read Rimbaud poems out loud, until the younger man discovers that the old man is a Rimbaud character himself. There’s also a brief biography of Rimbaud, focusing on his later life, with the hypothesis that even though Rimbaud ceased writing poetry at 19, the man continued his creative life through his letters, until his death. 

This collection of worthy, thin episodes offers a tepid tribute to Rimbaud, lacking fire and rage, even with Alexander’s most melodramatic efforts.  The show, one senses, is about artistic passion, but this homage could be about any poet, really:  I fail to see what is uniquely Rimbaud-ian about the tales.  It could be about Poe or Edward Lear, even.  Considering the work’s subject is a sensualist like Rimbaud, the wan result seems an almost inexcusable pity. 

Zombie Joe’s Underground, 4850 Lankershim Blvd, N. Hlywd.; Fri., 8:30 p.m.; through June 20, https://zombiejoes.com.