Tuesday, January 19, 1999
Curtain Calls
"Yohen"
Through Feb. 5
David Henry Hwang Theatre at the Union Center for the Arts
Little Tokyo
Tickets: $17-$27
(213) 625-7000
Sometimes an accident in a kiln firing will produce a piece,
beautiful in its distortion. The Japanese call this artistic
phenomenon "yohen," but Sumi and James would like to call it their
marriage.
This theme launches the two-person play about an African
American and Japanese American couple struggling to keep their
marriage together after 37 years of relative bliss and ignorance.
The story opens with Sumi (Nobu McCarthy) going through a
post-mid-life crisis. With new direction in life, she asks her
longtime husband, James (Danny Glover), to leave.
For the next hour and a half, the audience must weed through
endless stretches of dialogue, as they attempt to reconcile, only
to dredge up more demons.
The premise hints at a promising drama about a largely
overlooked subject, but its vision is muddled in what seems to be
chit-chat for the greater half of the play. "Yohen" rarely fulfills
its intent to "(provide) audiences with a cross-cultural
experience" until the last half hour, which is ultimately
un-cathartic.
With an impressive cast, East West Players’ noted reputation and
a solid premise, "Yohen" seems bound for excellence. But the
production suffers from unpreparedness, a weak script and poor
direction.
Glover and McCarthy’s tiresome stuttering and hesitation may
contribute to an element of realism, especially with Sumi being an
immigrant, but in excess; it leaves the audience impatient and
frustrated. Similarly, the long scene changes and slow-moving plot
make "Yohen" one long, exhaustive effort to get to the point.
Despite such inadequacies, Glover manages to charm audiences
with his powerful stage presence and puppy-dog demeanor. His
undeniable chemistry with McCarthy saves the play from complete
failure, and the casual banter between the two – though irrelevant
and seemingly unnecessary – provides for some delightful highlights
(at one point, in discussing James’ "size" and her own fragility,
Sumi jokingly admits of her mother: "She knew your baby would kill
me.")
In the end, the significance of "yohen" is lost in a misguided
and half-hearted attempt to bring together two divergent
communities in a play that can’t converge on a single point.
Louise Chu
Rating: 4
Can’t Get Enough
Through March 28
Tickets: $10
Third Stage Theater
Burbank
(323) 664-9150
After watching Gay Goodenough’s one-woman show, "Can’t Get
Enough," she has convinced me that she has led a not-always-rosy,
but interesting life.
I’m guessing she has a full diary of cathartic muses relating to
the events in her life as she is an outcast in school, comes out as
a lesbian, and vies for a spot on a HBO special.
However, GoodEnough tries too hard to stuff her one-hour show
with snippets of what seems like every event in her life. To top it
off, the show is both stand-up and dramatic soliloquy, which just
doesn’t work in this case. The drama suffers because Goodenough
does not invest enough time in developing the characters that we
are suppose to care about, including herself. The comedy doesn’t
work consistently because it is composed of mostly lukewarm
one-liners and strange visuals.
Goodenough plays herself as a woman who is obsessive, confused,
insecure, satisfied, regretful, etc., etc. The list of adjectives
goes on and on as Goodenough relays many elements in her life
through flashbacks, narratives and phone calls. But overall,
Goodenough is a woman who has taken this long to find herself.
Among those discoveries are her homosexuality and the dream of
being a comedian. But Goodenough is plagued with discontent in
herself: her image, lovelife, hypochondriac tendencies and
neurosis. So she compensates by lots of chocolate and sex.
In the background, a voice offers Goodenough comfort in the form
of snide replies or inane comments such as "Why don’t you accept
the way you are?"
Thankfully, Goodenough’s dialogue isn’t as bland, but her
comments on everything from money and business to disease and sex
is erratically delivered and consequently unconvincing. Goodenough
also has a strange need to rhyme excessively when making a potent
point.
In between the social comments, Goodenough reveals a memory from
the past such as stories about her childhood, her childhood friend,
Chris (who is going through a sex-change operation for no explained
reason), her parents and her two husbands. Again, these scenes also
don’t quite connect to the rest of the performance, as moving as
they are suppose to be.
In the last half, Goodenough gets glammed up as Cher in a
prelude to her stand-up act, which for a little while is the
strongest element of the show. But it reverts back to the same
unsuccessful back-and-forth between drama and comedy. Goodenough
also does something we are suppose to be shocked by, but it wears
off in the next minute.
At the end, the impact from watching Goodenough’s show also
wears off quickly. Although Goodenough exudes confidence in her
piece, the piece itself has an awkward pace that shifts too rapidly
from scene to scene. All the parts don’t quite add up to a whole;
they are like separate entities whose ideas don’t have room to
breathe in the constricted script.
Perhaps Goodenough’s mostly manic performance is meant to make
up for the fact that she must take on different moods and muses so
rapidly, but she ends up losing the impact of her story.
Goodenough is certainly very enthusiastic, but the piece needs
work on its pacing and material. A good example of what it could be
is Beth Robbins’ involving and satisfying "Heaven Knows" playing at
the Improv, which is similarly a one-woman show about a gay woman
trying to make it in show business and her struggle with life.
No doubt, Goodenough reveals much about herself in her
autobiographical show, but the show itself shouldn’t run like a
diary, with rambling thoughts that only make sense to its
author.
Sandy Yang
Rating: 3
"Vincent"
Through Feb. 21
Court Theater
Tickets: $25
(800) 660-8587
Vincent Van Gogh’s life is often a collection of myths and
half-truths as colorful as any of his paintings. In the new one-man
play, "Vincent," the painter’s tumultuous and painful existence
gets some measure of vindication.
Based on correspondences between Van Gogh and his younger
brother Theo, the play captures Van Gogh in moments of lucid
delirium and, more importantly, moments of humanity.
Set in a Paris lecture hall, Theo Van Gogh, an art dealer and
besieged sibling, gathers Vincent’s friends for a posthumous
remembrance. "Vincent" sheds light on the relationship between the
brothers. Through a series of flashbacks, Theo defends his brother
against persistent accusations of insanity.
Sam Lovett, a founding member of the Central Coast Theatre
Works, deftly portrays both the troubled genius and concerned
brother. Theo is the practical, sensible one left with the
responsibility to support his poor starving "artist" sibling.
Frustrated by Vincent’s eccentric habits, Theo faces the growing
burden of providing financial support as well as dissuading his
family and society from assuming that Vincent is completely
mad.
There lies the theme of "Vincent"; strip away the paint, and the
play is left as a story of family bonds tightening; a brother
standing up for a brother. It’s a scenario that anyone with a
sibling can identify with.
The play moves with deliberate pacing, jumping from Theo to
Vincent with excellent continuity. As the work unravels, Lovett, as
Theo, sets the story straight about the legends involving Van Gogh.
The most infamous of all has to do with Vincent removing his ear
for a lover. In reality, Vincent cuts off his ear after arguing
with famed painter Gaughin; he then gives the ear to a
prostitute.
Lovett plays Theo well as a tired, beaten man exhausted from the
constant defense he must put up for his literally helpless brother.
There is a sense of kept anger in Lovett’s performance, Theo loves
his brother but he also hates him for making him the "older"
protector.
Indeed, Lovett play’s Vincent with naive idealism fighting for
the artist’s rights. He exudes the desperate urgency in Vincent to
find comfort in camaraderie, love and art comes unhinged by his
incredibly self-conscious complex. It would be easy for Lovett to
play the role of Vincent with the exuberance of madmen, but he
takes on Vincent with delicate hands.
Lovett seemed destined to play the role of Van Gogh. From his
hauntingly similar appearance, he controls every outburst of
emotion with tempered discipline. He embraces Van Gogh’s character
with sympathy, acting more like a man broken by life rather than a
man gone insane.
As much as "Vincent" is a celebration of the great artist
achievements, it is a eulogy for a life marred by hardship.
Trinh Bui
Grade: 7
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