Reviewed by G. Bruce Smith
Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum
Through Oct. 1

Last Summer at Bluefish Cove

Reviewed by F. Kathleen Foley
The Fountain Theatre
Through August 27

When first produced in New York in 1980, Last Summer at Bluefish Cove represented a revolution in the American theater. Jane Chambers’ drama was one of the first times that lesbians were portrayed as well-rounded, “normal” individuals, devoid of the layers of pathology with which they had previously (and rarely) been represented in drama.

The play was presented at the Fountain Theatre in 1983, where it ran for over two years and won a bevy of awards and accolades. That runaway success helped establish the Fountain as the cutting-edge production entity it has remained for the last 40 years.

The current production of Bluefish Cove at the Fountain marks the fortieth anniversary of that celebrated staging. Since then, where gay and trans rights are concerned, heartening societal changes have taken place— along with a shocking backlash of resistance to those causes.

But while Chambers’ brave and groundbreaking piece has certainly earned its rightful place in the annals of theatrical history, in terms of pure dramaturgy, it is showing its age.

We meet our cast of characters in the “lesbian beach colony” of Bluefish Cove, for decades the summer getaway for queer women looking for community and a respite from city life.

For the most part, the women assembled in the Cove in this summer of 1974 are living as couples, but there’s always the possibility of an extraneous affair and the commotion that inevitably follows.

Able actors, helmed by director Hannah Wolf, do their best to enliven Chambers’ musty archetypes but can’t always prevent their characters from slipping into caricature.

There’s Kitty (Sarah Scott Davis), a former physician who has since become a best-selling author and cherished figurehead of the women’s movement. Kitty remains carefully in the closet, ever mindful that, if she were outed, the adoring audiences on the talk show circuit would reject her feministic message. Rita (Tamika Katon-Donegal), Kitty’s secretary and partner, is a true believer in Kitty’s genius and an ardent feminist in her own right.

Famous sculptor Annie (Noelle Messier) has achieved an enviable state of domestic bliss with partner Rae (Ellen D. Williams), a sort of de facto spokesperson for the virtues of homemaking. (Williams gives a solid turn in the role, but Rae, the ardent feminist who loves scrubbing kitchen floors, strikes us as Chambers’ somewhat clumsy attempt to be inclusive.)

Blue-blooded, wealthy and insecure, menopausal Sue (Stasha Surdyke) has a history of monogamous relationships with gold-digging younger women unworthy of her. Donna (Stephanie Pardi), her lover of three year’s duration, is a particularly insufferable entry in Sue’s revolving door of youthful dalliances.

The sole single woman in the Cove is Lil (Ann Sonneville), an adventuresome spirit who has had affairs, both long and short term, with several of the Cove’s residents. In a twist of fate (and an effective meet cute), Eva (Lindsay LaVanchy), having just fled her overbearing husband, rents a cabin in the Cove, completely unaware that she has blundered into a lesbian enclave.

Before long, Eva and Lil are embroiled in a torrid affair — a life-changing bond that Eva assumes will be long lasting. But Lil is dealing with a medical condition that she’s kept carefully secret from Eva, convinced that their ecstatic new relationship — her first real love — will protect her from any peril this condition may bode.

We know better. In fact, we see the inevitable denouement coming a country mile down the road.

Barely skirting melodrama, Bluefish Cove is a sort of lesbian Love Story, a wannabe weepie that, although sweet and engrossing, has a movie-of-the-week quality that may not deeply resonate with modern-day audiences.

The amazingly prolific Chambers died at age 45, at the peak of her popularity and success. But one can only wonder if a decade or more of artistic maturation would have smoothed the rough edges off her already considerable talent and given rise to the truly deathless drama intimated in her landmark, culturally essential works.

The Fountain Theatre’s Outdoor Stage, 5060 Fountain Ave., Los Angeles. Fri.-Mon 7 pm, through August 27.  www.FountainTheatre.com. Two hours including 15-minute intermission.

Four

Reviewed by Steven Leigh Morris
The Broadwater, Second Stage
Thru June 24

Clé Holly’s 60-minute etude studies four musicians in a string quartet — and their callous manager — as they wrestle with the principles and financials of remaining or disbanding.

On a spartan stage with four chairs and four music stands, the play opens with a gesture: Second violinist Roger (Michael Lamb, authentically and endearingly stuffy) places a white rose on the vacant chair of his late husband, first violinist Leonard who, we later learn, was “instrumental” in recruiting this quartet. (Leonard just recently died.) The group had a pact that if one left the ensemble, they would disband. However, the group’s manager (Bong Cabrera) sees a financially lucrative future for the group playing at weddings and other events, if they can accept his newly recruited first violinist Kiki (Melissa Folzenlogen).

Under John Coppola’s direction, Folzenlogen is the single performer who brings an instrument to the stage and plays it well. The others mime their instruments to recorded music. This conceit is a bit, well, dissonant, but eventually settles in, stylistically —much in the way that the brash, practical and talented Kiki settles in after a hate-at-first-sight introduction to the surviving three musicians.

Violist Violet (Katherine Lee) struggles to endure the prospect of unemployment in New York City should the group disband, as well as the inexplicable insults of manager Hassim, who insists that violists remain in the shadows. (Why would he so diminish her if he wants to keep this group together?) Meanwhile cellist Ayodele (the charismatic Tonoccus McClain) keeps his calculations close to his chest. Ultimately, the players agree to work for three months before making a final decision, so the clock is ticking.

As it does, playwright Holly serves up a series of truncated scenes that sketch out the emotional dynamics of all concerned, often through confessions that feel at odds with the play’s otherwise staccato rhythm. Also, it’s hard to distinguish whether Hassim, as written, is really as over-the-top desperate as Cabrera plays him.

The play’s profundity lies in its combination of erudition (playwright Holly’s knowledge of the classical music world is impressively apparent) and allegory: The tension between the individual versus the collective shown here can also be extended to so many aspects of our culture beyond music, reaching a head with the mask mandates during Covid.

Still, the stakes for whether this group remains or disbands have not yet been sufficiently solidified. What exactly has been lost should they go their separate ways? That question is teased out as a kind of curiosity, but the play’s final impact remains muted.

The Broadwater, Second Stage, 6320 Santa Monica Blvd., Hlywd.; Thurs., June 22, 9:30 pm; Sat., June 24, 5:30 pm; thru June 24. https://www.hollywoodfringe.org/projects/9825?tab=tickets; Running time: one hour with no intermission

The Catastrophe Club

Reviewed by Deborah Klugman
La Fonda Restaurant
Through June 25

A party in a bar on the eve of an apocalyptic event becomes the foundation for one woman’s investigation of events 500 years in her past in The Catastrophe Club, Devin Burnam’s intellectually ambitious but underdeveloped drama.

Billed as an immersive event, this Los Angeles production (the premiere production was in New York in 2019) is staged in the now shuttered La Fonda restaurant on Wilshire Boulevard in Westlake. A group of friends meet in this rather desolate (for real) bar and supper club. Besides gathering for drinks, their aim is to make a videotape to use in a time capsule, to be preserved either for the young daughter of one of the women, who may be terminally ill, or for posterity. Little do they know that a genuine catastrophic event is upon them.

But there’s a catch. The people we watch interact aren’t real humans; they’re SIMS, created by Ruth (Lindsay Torrey), an anthropology-minded individual living in an Orwellian society in the 26^th century. Ruth has uncovered the 21^st century videotape and used the people in it as models for her SIMS. Her narration now serves as the framework for the play, whose central conceit is that we, the audience, are her fellow-citizens, and are meeting surreptitiously to learn about historical events. the knowledge of which has been forbidden.

With the exception of Maya, the bartender (Maya McGowan), the other characters are scientists and engineers who have worked together in the past but no longer. One of them, Anders (Rebecca Ann Johnson) has just sold her company for 80 million dollars, sparking pointed remarks from her former colleague, Emime (Burnam) about capitalism’s evils. Another, Teres (Lauren Yeoman), is the sick woman who’s waiting for a phone call with the results of a crucial test. Her friend Zizzie (Sophie Yukimi Gorai), who has a reputation for intimating the future, is working hard to buoy Teres’ spirits and assure her everything will be okay.

The overall premise is interesting, for sure, but the details surrounding both the plot and the characters are vague. For example, we are never told exactly what is wrong with Teres (who prances about as if she were in perfect health) — but her medical crisis is talked about and remains pivotal nonetheless. Nor is the project these scientists supposedly worked on together made specific; at one point they huddle and exchange generic, techie-type dialogue that sounds like it was written by someone who hasn’t a clue. The totalitarian behemoth that has Ruth so very paranoid is referenced but without particulars, while the cataclysmic event that supposedly levels our society never comes into clear focus either. In general, we don’t get to know these characters with any depth — instead, we observe them superficially interact. The dramatic tension doesn’t exactly sizzle.

Directed by first-time stage director Jake Hart, the problems with the writing are compounded by performances in need of dynamic and definition, with the exception of Torrey, whose anxious yet purposeful Ruth is clearly defined.

The evening also includes a prelude — a talk given by a non-actor who is not a cast member, which is held in the adjacent bar area prior to the scripted show. The evening I attended, an individual involved in projects to fight climate change gave a presentation. Though perhaps worthy of note in itself, this presentation added nothing to the story, while tacking 15 minutes onto the running time.

Set dresser Nicole Bernardini underscores the depressiveness of the playing area with strategically placed plastic sheets and naked light bulbs. Sound credited to Matthew Harting and director Hart adds a degree of ambience in a space where the high ceilings and poor acoustics impact on the actors’ voices.

La Fonda Restaurant. 2501 Wilshire Blvd, LA. Thurs.-Sat., 8 pm, Sun., 2 pm; thru June 25. https://thecatastropheclub.wellattended.com/events/the-catastrophe-club Running time: one hour & 45 minutes with a brief intermission.

Getting There

Reviewed by Dana Martin
Hudson Guild Theatre as part of the Hollywood Fringe Festival
Through June 24

Rebecca O’Brien is determined to survive. Getting There, written and performed by O’Brien and directed by Cameron Watson, is a story that circles the biggest battle of her life: breast cancer. The one-hour solo show is part of the Hollywood Fringe Festival and is now playing at the Hudson Guild Theatre.

Rebecca O’Brien is a self-reliant woman who happens to be broke and have cancer. After leaving her unsupportive partner in the midst of her life-changing diagnosis, she sets off to save her own life with her service dog Stella at her side. While riding the L.A city bus back and forth from chemotherapy appointments, O’Brien discovers an unexpected support system, often in unexpected ways and from total strangers.

The narrative jumps back and forth through time, blending fragments of O’Brien’s childhood, trips to the local grocery store, divine encounters with misfits, outcasts and strangers.

O’Brien claims the story isn’t about cancer, but it looms. Her story unfolds in her preparation for battle — and the toll in its aftermath. She finds solace and support that appears almost out of thin air exactly when she needs it most.

O’Brien is an engaging performer with a brand humor that’s a blend of cute and crude. She embodies a variety of characters, focusing primarily on vocal variation and slight physical embodiment, often veering into caricature. She’s at her most compelling when she is directly dealing with the pain, difficulty and catharsis of her experience — but she rarely allows the action to remain down long enough to explore it.

Director Cameron Watson finds full use of space with clean, clear and direct staging. The set and lights are simple and suffice. Slide projections are used liberally throughout, which sometimes distract from the performance.

Getting There is a story hope, the power of human kindness, and of survival. O’Brien jokes that being broke is worse than having cancer— but it’s those very hardships and hard-fought battles that shape her life and give her the strength that she needs to keep on fighting.

Hudson Guild Theatre; 6539 Santa Monica Blvd.; Hollywood; June 15, 8:30 pm, June 18, 1 pm, June 24, 3 pm. https://www.hollywoodfringe.org/projects/7059. Running time: one hour with no intermission.