Nick Ullett (Photo by John Perrin Flynn)
Reviewed by Martίn Hernández
Henry Murray Stage in the Matrix Theatre
Through April 8
RECOMMENDED
Imagine an L.A. based production of Harold Pinter’s classic The Birthday Party with an Oscar-winning film director at the helm and a couple of movie stars in leading roles. When writer/performer Nick Ullett chose to develop a one-person show about the unraveling of that production in which he was cast, his wife, a fellow actor, begged him not to as it would kill his career. While the jury may still be out on career, Ullett’s shaggy dog tale has a wobbly workshop feel that is somewhat salvaged by his affable demeanor and proverbial British understatement.
“I came over in a boat. That’s how old I am,” is how Ullett describes how he and his then-comedy team partner Tony Hendra arrived in the U.S. from England in 1964. A visiting Hollywood agent is so impressed by the duo’s show that he offers them work in the States and covers their voyage to New York. “It was funny in London,” is the agent’s only response when his partner is not as impressed with the comics’ act. Despite a rocky start opening for an iconic American comedian, Hendra and Ullett managed a modicum of success with nightclub and TV work until their eventual breakup.
Fast forward to 2014. Ullett, now a “working actor’ in L.A., is set to audition for the menacing role of the gangster Goldberg in the Geffen Playhouse’s production of Pinter’s first full-length play. To Ullett’s surprise, the director is William Friedkin, famous for The Exorcist and The French Connection. “Call me Billy,” Friedkin tells the awestruck Ullett at their initial meeting, feigning an attempt at friendliness. While Friedkin likes his work, unexpected circumstances sink Ullett’s casting in the meaty part, but he does end up with a featured role – even though he thinks Friedkin may not remember his first audition.
British actor/playwright Steven Berkoff gets the Goldberg role but his — at least to Ullett — inexplicable antipathy toward Pinter results in his inability or refusal to learn his lines. There is no love lost between Berkoff and Friedkin either, with their face-to-face arguments more like belly-to-belly affairs due to their mutual rotundity. The other actors, such as Tim Roth, are more experienced with work on the stage and fret over the status of the show, since Friedkin’s expertise in filmmaking is not translating to the stage. One ensemble member constantly quits and Friedkin reels them back in; others quit and are recast; delays abound — and the whole shebang implodes despite a sold-out run. At least the Geffen paid for everybody’s lunch.
Ulllett’s wry storytelling is well suited for the intimate performing space and while he may fumble for his lines at times, he recovers quickly under Lisa James’s understated direction. The show, while not earth-shattering in its revelations, is a pleasant distraction showcasing Ullett’s talent in personifying his fellow actors, and others: male and female, Americans and Brits (and a Scot )— as well as pompous folks and the more modest ones.
Rogue Machine (Upstairs at the Henry Murray Stage in the Matrix Theatre),7657 Melrose Ave., W. Hollywood. Sat.-Sun., 5 pm, Fri. & Mon., 8 pm; thru April 8. https://www.roguemachinetheatre.org/ Running time 60 minutes with no intermission
