VIOLENCE: The Misadventures of Spike Spangle, Farmer
Reviewed by Lara J. Altunian
The Actors’ Gang
Through June 22
Tim Robbins’ VIOLENCE: The Misadventures of Spike Spangle, Farmer feels like a blast from the past. Though the ludicrous plot and over-the-top characters are entertaining, the story, set in the 1980s, eventually winds its way into an overly-familiar ending. Predictability may be a part of the play’s message about corruption in politics, patriotism and militarism, but it felt like it could’ve built up to something more.
Spike Spangle (Tom Szymanski) is expecting his first child with wife Flora (Andrea Monte Warren). An innocent dreamer from the heartlands whose hopes for his family’s future exceed his modest living as a farmer, Spangle’s financial luck turns after he meets greedy billionaire businessman Maximilian Enormous (Will Thomas McFadden). Joined by a Reverend (Jeremie Loncka) with freaky hands, and an ensemble of military chiefs (Chris Bisbano, Stephanie Lee, Sean Paul, Zivko Petkovic, Stephanie Pinnock, and Tess Vidal), Enormous concocts a master plan to propel Spangle to superstardom as an all-American hero, albeit with the intention of using his fame for his own grisly gains. The ensuing adventure is a twisted look at celebrity worship (emphasized in a reality where animated figures are real), materialism, and absolute power through the lens of consumerism.
Spike Spangle’s themes transcend time. The dangers that were present in our government 30 and 40 years ago have given way to today’s nefarious presidency. Based on that logic, it’s no wonder the play is experiencing a revival. However, the material dates itself with its constant ’80s references. Though funny, and purposely corny, the more serious warnings about a dystopian future featured in the second half of the play might have a stronger impact if the timeline were updated.
Additionally, the two acts feel disproportionate to one another. The first half takes its time building the characters and painting a proper picture of the deep-seated level of bureaucratic dishonesty that has leaked its way into everything from banks to medical care and even religion. The second half seems rushed by comparison, especially when regarding the catharsis that comes with the characters’ final conversations and monologues. Not enough happens after the quick climax. The after effects mostly remain a blurred assumption that would have been more poignant if they had at least partially played out on stage.
That being said, the acting is terrific. McFadden excels as the cartoonish villain whose facial expressions are reminiscent of Jack Nicholson’s joker in the 1989 Batman film. Flipping his emotions on a dime, he is able to portray comically manic highs and lows without completely losing his edge as a dangerous, power-hungry sociopath. Even more crazed, but equally amusing, is director Bob Turton’s performances as a banker, Superman, and other characters who have various run-ins with Spangle that amp up the story’s insanity. Szymanski is the straight man to the rest of the ensemble’s frantic routines. He and Warren’s general state of calmness portray the one, disconnected, but comforting sense of realness in a world of deception, particularly during Act 1.
Designed by Margaret Maggie Cleary, the set is barebones and simple, mainly using one basic prop — a large metal table that is constantly shifted around The Actors’ Gang space to accurately portray multiple items, including a marital bed, a CEO’s desk, and a rocket launching pad. The rest of the story in each scene is portrayed via Cihan Sahin’s large projection designs (with video editing by Peter Lazarus). Most striking is Mela Green’s costumes, which appear futuristic, but definitely display a 1986 flair. Every one of the corrupted characters are featured in clown-white face paint to over-emphasize the known extremeness of their behavior. Turton’s direction ensures that the actors do not get lost in the grand-scale proportion of each scene.
The play at times feels disturbing, and at others, just plain goofy. However, it never loses its point amid the chaos. Spike Spangle’s lesson is universal, though it is one that humanity may, unfortunately, never truly learn.
The Actors’ Gang Theater at the Ivy Substation, 9070 Venice Blvd., Culver City; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 6/2 & 6/9, 2 p.m.; through Jun. 22. (310) 838-4264 or https://ci.ovationtix.com/35132/production/1003886. Running time: one hour and 45 minutes with one 15-minute intermission.
