Tuesday, January 26, 1999
Curtain calls
"The Old Neighborhood" and "The Cryptogram"
In repertory through Feb. 14
Geffen Playhouse
Westwood
Tickets: $30-$40, $10 student rush 15 minutes prior to
curtain
(310) 208-5454
Those poised on the cutting edge of theater, noses aloft, may
dismiss the family drama as a thing of the plebeian past – as
nostalgic and trite as one of Tennessee Williams’ fading southern
roses. But there are very good reasons Williams’ plays are still
performed and much about the family in its various forms is still
worthy of dramatizing.
David Mamet has been kind (and characteristically brutal) enough
to script two highly convincing, disarming, hilarious plays that
stir up not just the collective past for the characters, but the
audience’s take on an entire genre.
From its bitchy, nostalgic opening vignette, "Neighborhood" –
the more comedic of the two – promises signature Mametian dialogue
(rhythmic, repetitive, artfully profane) with decidedly more
sentiment than the man’s man playwright usually permits. This owes
in part to Michael Bloom’s thoughtful, balanced direction, as he
allows the characters’ hypocrisies and idiosyncrasies to go beyond
conjuring a dismal image of human nature; they are also the prime
cathartic factors and laugh-getters.
Joey (David Warshofsky) details to old buddy Bobby (Dennis
Boutsikaris) the romantic life he might have led as a European
Jewish villager. Bobby has problems, though. He also envisions
himself killing his family and wandering the forest like some sort
of macho, freedom-breathing animal. As with most strong pieces of
fiction, the characters stew in their own rules, their weirdness
needing no outsider as counterpoint, since weirdness is the most
entertaining kind of norm.
Boutsikaris again plays active listener (amused, yet leagues
more hopeless than the ranters he encounters because he seems so
resigned to torment) when he witnesses his sister Jolly’s
breakdown. In the play’s most outstanding performance, Robin
Bartlett provokes rollicking, snorting laughter as she recounts her
wrong-way detour down a one-way street. When a fellow driver asks
if she knew which way the sign was pointing, she reels against
"this emasculated piece of shit who has to take out his aggression
on some haggard, sexless, unattractive housewife."
Of course, she sees herself as the latter, spends most of her
life searching for someone to blame for it, and therein lies the
tragedy.
Bartlett is a tough neurotic to follow, but Christine Dunford
rises to the occasion as Deeny, Bobby’s armchair-philosopher ex.
Deeny is likable for her random musings (on gardening, molecules
and cliches) and her own brand of haggardness, and Dunford is a
chatty, jumpy alternative to her role in "The Cryptogram."
Yet the specifics of their relationship get lost in the quirky
mire, and the scene closes on a note that is more unsettled than
unsettling.
The slightly off-kilter tone in some ways sets the mood for "The
Cryptogram," in which a young boy struggles with insomnia – a flag
for much deeper psychological rumblings – on the eve of a camping
trip with his conspicuously absent father. His mother is deaf to
his pleas in the wake of family friend Del’s cryptic hints as to
the father’s recent activities.
Frequent allusions to a book the characters never name, along
with other loftiness and dialogue so much like a ping pong game
that Mamet at times seems to parody himself, make "The Cryptogram"
the less immediately endearing of the two plays. Ultimately,
however, this is a game. Each character reveals a few encoded
secrets in hopes of snatching up a bit of the previously unknown
for him or herself.
"The Cryptogram" finely crafts heartbreak via three characters
who demonstrate their love only by lashing out when betrayed – and
who arguably mark new emotional heights for the playwright.
Ed Begley Jr. unveils Del’s complexity with perfectly timed
sensitivity. He begins as a breezy uncle type – good with the kid,
a little mischievous. But as Donny and her husband’s relationship
crumbles, Begley’s increasingly desperate gestures and unmodulated
voice expose bleakness behind the apparent friendship.
Dunford cinches the difficult task of making the cold,
self-centered mother sympathetic. We guffaw when her son shakily
confesses that he hears voices, and Donny replies, "I don’t care.
Go away … I love you, but I can’t like you." Dunford’s short
breaths and drawn-in posture hint that her exasperation is, in
fact, desperation.
Hardly a footnote to the trio, Will Rothhaar delivers the many
lines of the junior high-aged son as naturally and pleadingly as
his older co-stars. His role becomes especially crucial toward the
play’s ambiguous end, as the question arises: What will he do with
the painful knowledge he’s acquired tonight? Turn inwardly
destructive? Outwardly destructive? Or weave it cryptically into a
very personal piece of fiction?
Many have suggested that both plays are autobiographical for
Mamet, but a qualified director-cast team make these twisted jaunts
with the past universal. The boy’s constant, panicky questions
manifest a side of childhood rarely staged – probably because most
adults find the glossy overcoat of nostalgia more calming.
But David Mamet was never big on calm.
Cheryl Klein
Rating: 8
"Rent"
Through Feb. 28
Shubert Theatre
Century City
Tickets: $30-$70, $20 rush
(800) 447-7400
Attention "Rent" rushers: Don’t put away your wallets yet.
Though the show enjoyed a hefty L.A. run last winter and a brief
reprise this summer in Orange County, repeat offenders know that
the cast’s freedom on stage brings as much enthusiasm and nuance as
chaos.
The latest interpretation of the sung-through musical about a
group of East Villagers navigating a year marked by AIDS,
break-ups, make-ups and a battle to keep their apartments, comes
from the first national touring company.
Though the cast is new to Californians, many are familiar with
Daphne Rubin-Vega’s raspy, emotive voice from the Broadway cast
recording. Seeing the Tony Award-winning actress up close is an
entirely different and magical experience, however. Closeness is
literally the key – Rubin-Vega’s subtle mannerisms portray Mimi’s
insecurities and conflicting sensibilities far more believably than
the inconsistent Julia Santana of the L.A. cast. Rubin-Vega is
streets-of-New-York tough, concealing a caring, needy,
self-destructive soul.
In general, this cast is throatier vocally, especially Dean
Balkwill’s Roger, who – though somewhat uncomfortable in his rock
star get-up – delivers an introspective "One Song Glory" and
ignites a bonfire with Rubin-Vega in "Light My Candle."
Trey Ellett’s Mark links the various segments of the show
together with appropriate dorky charm; charm being a crucial
character component that Neil Patrick Harris understood keenly,
even if his successors did not. Ellett is especially strong in the
first act, his smooth, playful physicality bringing life to "Tango:
Maureen" and the intro to "La Vie Boheme" (he heaves his body onto
the table, feigning zombiedom when Benny declares "Bohemia is
dead").
Shaun Earl makes an aggressive, charismatic Angel and, like most
of the ensemble, executes the energetic choreography with rhythm
and style. But such robustness doesn’t fly quite as well in Act II
when AIDS takes hold. Here audiences will miss Andy Senor’s frailty
and femininity.
The ensemble harmonizes well, but lacks some of the character
distinction that made L.A. cast fans enjoy non-spotlight drama.
Conductor David Truskinoff brought out the "rock" in rock opera
opening night, peppering the score with guitar riffs and piano
slides. Add to this operatic soloist Danielle Lee Geaves’s
audience-friendly expressions and Kamilah Martin’s stirring "Take
Me or Leave Me" (her freewheeling growls as Joanne put diva Maureen
in her place).
The result is a musically happenin’ evening, making good on
"Rent’s" reputation as a passionate musical that always delivers a
rush.
Cheryl Klein
Rating: 9
"Art"
Through March 14
UCLA/James A. Doolittle Theater
Hollywood
Tickets: $17.50-$60
(800)447-7400
For a brief moment while watching "Art" one forgets where one
is. Suddenly the Sunset Strip is much farther than two blocks away,
and Los Angeles becomes only a faint recollection of home.
At this moment, instinctive acts such as breathing become
secondary, one forgets about the large head of hair blocking the
view and is completely absorbed by the profound hilarity of a
wonderful play.
Yasmina Reza’s play "Art," tells of a tight friendship tested by
the expensive purchase of a white-on-white painting.
Although the play lacks a dramatic set or more than three
characters, its humor penetrates deeply, while its portrayal of
three friends and their teetering bond is shockingly accurate. The
personalities maintain a timeless quality; the characters recall
types of people we have all met before – people we know and have
come to understand through experience.
Serge (Victor Garber) is the purchaser of the painting who seems
to be heading through a slight age-crisis following a recent
divorce. The character has a lost father-like quality – the
attitude that every dad must briefly assume somewhere around the
age of 45, when he makes an expensive and questionable purchase.
Serge captures the moment when "Dad" is no longer the greatest man
in the world – rather, kind of old and seemingly lame.
His initial fallout occurs with his older friend Marc (Alan
Alda), who plays the intense cynic, not at all fond of his friend’s
recent buy. Marc, in classic friend style, believes that the
painting represents a deeper change for the worse in his friend,
selling out to a world of modernism and art critique.
Yvan, played by Alfred Molina, completes the trio, with a
stunning performance as the trying-to-please victim. His various
monologues provide one of the most amusing aspects of the play,
causing the entire room to break out in bellowing laughter.
Although the hysterical quality of the performance would be
enough to draw sold-out crowds nightly, the wonderful quality of
the play comes from the deeply accurate reality of its portrayal of
friendship.
The play perfectly captures the tragic moments when one first
starts to question his closest friends. The dialogue, beyond being
hilarious, is superbly realistic and easily related to. The
audience becomes a part of the conversation, understands where the
feuding friends are coming from and remembers having a fight nearly
exactly like this one only a few months before.
Erin Beatty
Rating: 9Geffen Playhouse
Ed Begley Jr. and Christine Dunford star in David Mamet’s "The
Cryptogram." The play runs at the Geffen Playhouse through Feb.
14.
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