Doomsday Kiss
It does not bode well for new theater company, The REPO division, when its inaugural production of four loosely connected one-acts concerning the end of days is a strong indicator that the days for this company are probably numbered. Co-produced with the Bootleg Theater in a seedy, downtown adjacent district that looks more like a war zone outside than onstage, the ambitious multimedia collaboration features live music and an art installation by curator Sandy Rodriguez. In a bold attempt to provide all the accoutrements to set the evening’s tone to the point of distraction, these alone cannot distract from the individual plays that collectively fail to deliver anything but a mushroom cloud of nauseating hot air.
The three plays disjointed by Clay Hazelwood’s reoccurring interludes of “Who is Randall Maxit?” explores the grosser underbelly of doomsday with lackluster results. Each seems intent on outwitting the other with its sexual language, bizarre situations and ridiculous caricatures, but none are especially innovative. Using the word ‘clitoris’ more times throughout the show than The Vagina Monologues let alone the prop gag of a giant clitoris erupting from a headmistress’ skirt is not even mildly clever in the hands of this ensemble. It just comes across as a rude, crude, transparent attempt to shock for the sole sake of shock value.
Opening and closing the show is one mad scientist, Randall Maxit (Gray Palmer) in Clay Hazelwood’s play that explores identity and conscience by admission. The ongoing mental degradation of the lonely doctor intrudes between the other three pieces and lacks any sense of cohesion or unity to the show.
Sharon Yablon’s “You Might Be Waking Up” pits co-workers trapped inside a high-rise in a primal struggle for sex and survival. The buffoonish characters suffer from guilt, lust, and longing while giant crustaceans muck about outside their building. Every character has an obvious but unexplainable flaw, from an aging, single secretary with a limp (Tina Van Berckelaer) to the pilfering savage hippie devilishly played by Mickey Swanson to the washed up WeHo go-go boy (Shaughn Buchholz) clad in glo-lite jewelry and black pleather pants. Gordon Vandenberg finds some dark tableaus in his direction, and Yablon’s twisted dialogue conjures up terrifying images, but the cast fails to connect to their roles or to each other.
In “Fun Days at Sea” by Eva Anderson, two couples on a cruise ship come to terms with their mortality and their relationships as their ship and the world is consumed by a deadly vapor. The pair of swingers (Michael Dunn & Jessica Hanna) rally around a despondent newlywed (Alana Dietze) abandoned by her insensitive husband (Ben Messmer). Dunn goes all out and gets some laughs as a paunchy exhibitionist, and Hanna finds some nice emotional turns.
“The Class Room” by Wesley Walker rounds out the three plays with a weirdly perverse interview between a submissive journalist (Lily Holleman) and headmistress/psychiatrist (Jacqueline Wright). Claiming that she can subdue the children with extraordinary techniques resulting in psychosexual control, she proves her unusual skill resulting in the reporter’s disturbing pelvic thrusts and writhing on all fours. Much of the direction by Amber Skalski is repetitive and exasperating, shuttling the women without any motivation back and forth like a ping-pong ball. Wright is fascinating underneath her cool, stoic persona but even that eventually wears thin.
For all the falderal in the lobby, the four one-acts come as a bitter, tedious disappointment. The art installation by Rodriguez is worth mentioning, although not worth seeing for the price of enduring the show. At least fifteen artists from across the country, particularly from the local area and Texas made a great contribution with a wide array of jewelry, mixed media, sculpture, fashion, and watercolor. The standout for the evening was well-known designer Allessandro Thompson with his Dali-like prop plane in bronze and enamel jutting from the wall. Jewelry designer Ron Dotson uses gun casings to make an interesting assortment of necklaces and cuff links. Scott Winterrowd’s spectacular pastel mushroom clouds are nothing short of breathtaking.
If The REPO division can survive this bomb, then like cockroaches they may be able to survive anything. As of yet, they have aspired for more than they can produce. It is unclear what the future for this company will bring, and it might serve them well to bunker down and study “Tactics, techniques, and survival strategies in the event of a systematic and simultaneous...catastrophe” printed on the back of the programs.
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Theater: Bootleg Theater, 2220 Beverly Blvd. LA, CA 90057
Web Site: http://www.bootlegtheater.com/
Tickets: 213-389-3856
Dates: Through May 10,2009 - Thurs, Fri, and Sat at 8pm