THEATER REVIEW: MACBETH

Macbeth (Bo Foxworth) in Macbeth.

Spot on

By Ed Rampell

True confession: Until I attended the Antaeus Company’s luminous production of MacBeth, I had never actually read or seen a stage or screen adaptation of the Scottish play, as it is called. Sure, when I was a lad I attended MacBird!, the 1967 satire that combined elements of MacBeth with the JFK assassination. And I was familiar enough with Shakespeare’s immortal lines to know that “Out, out damn spot!” was not Dick and Jane chasing a dog away from their home.

The good news is that Antaeus’ rendering of the Bard’s tragedy about power mad social climbers made MacBeth well worth the wait for me. The ensemble’s admirable acting, which ranges from the psychopathological to the vaudevillean, is adeptly directed by Jessica Kubzansky. Antaeus has a full double cast -- the “Kinsmen” and the “Thanes” -- of around 20 players each tackling the production on alternate nights. At the premiere the Kinsmen performed, with Bo Foxworth and a not so noble Ann Noble portraying the murderous schemers who would be king and queen of Scotland.

The Antaeus version opens not with the trio of witches, but with a bit of poetic license, adding an entire scene that’s only suggested by the drama’s actual dialogue. In it, MacBeth (Foxworth) and Lady MacBeth (Noble) lament the death of their infant. The loss drives the couple to the brink and actually supplies an explanation for their subsequent power grabbing behavior. Unable to control the course of the natural world (childbirth), in a bizarre form of compensation, the MacBeths seek to seize state power and run the government so they will have some sense of control over a capricious world.

This prelude enhances insight into the lead characters’ motivations and enriches the play’s innately psychological text and texture. With her sheer will to power, come hell or high water, Noble is chilling as she pushes her husband to perform heinous deeds in order to attain then maintain the throne. Along with Hamlet,that other tragedy about those who wear the crown uneasily upon their troubled heads, MacBeth is arguably Shakespeare’s most psychological play.

Indeed, MacBeth says to the Doctor (Steve Hofvendahl) about his sleepless, guilt wracked wife: "Cure her of that." Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain And with some sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart?” Well, what is this if not a prescription for creating psychoanalysis, some 250-plus years before Freud?

But as the personal is also the political, Shakespeare elevates his drama beyond the realm of the mind and into statecraft. Although it’s rarely, if ever remarked upon, a recurring Shakespearean theme is the toppling of bad rulers by a more righteous wing of the elite, which seeks to set things right. This faction fighting leitmotif runs through many of the Bard’s epics, including: Hamlet, Richard III, Measure for Measure, Julius Caesar and MacBeth.

There are too many good actors to cite but allow me to single out Peter Van Norden as a droll Seyton (he also doubles as Duncan), Joe Holt as Banquo and James Sutorius as MacDuff. Foxworth plays MacBeth as if he has a a Napoleonic complex, seeking to make up through swordplay, murder and mayhem what he lacks in stature. Returning to Noble as Lady MacBeth, she is the ultimate henpecker, ever prodding her beleaguered husband on. She’s more terrifying than Scotland’s other infamous horror, the Loch Ness Monster. Noble is positively harrowing with her crimson locks and reddish period outfit, all redolent of her blood obsessed psyche costumed by Jessica Olson, who effectively garbs the rest of the cast in kilts, gowns and armor. (But where was that bagpipes player to complete the scene?)

Scenic Designer Tom Buderwitz, who brilliantly crafted a faithful replica of a British pub in the same playhouse where Antaeus presented Noël Coward’s WWII era Peace in Our Time, has worked his magic againon the diminutive stage, with sets that conjure up castles and misty Scottish moors.

Of course, the real star of this production remains Shakespeare, that inventor of proto-psychoanalysis. As Humanism swept Europe the Bard’s ultimate gift was to dramatize the “double toil and trouble” of the cauldron of the mind. Had he put quill to parchment and wrote the phone book, every time one looked a number up he or she would laugh or weep. Antaeus’ hair raising production does the playwright from Stratford-upon-Avon proud.

MacBeth runs through Aug. 26 at the The Antaeus Company, 5112 Lankershim Blvd., North Hollywood, CA 91601. For more info: 818/506-1983; www.Antaeus.org.

FILM REVIEW: THE WATCH

A scene from The Watch.

American style Snatch

By Don Simpson

Akiva Schaffer's The Watch opens with a not-so-clever bit about white bread life in the American Midwest. As Evan (Ben Stiller) jogs around his utopian, suburban town the joke seems to be on him. Evan wants to have a lot of friends, especially ethnic ones. He has an Indian friend, a Korean friend, and he is currently in the market for a black friend. (This all seems like a badly conceived SNL sketch.) This is why Evan has started a bunch of crazy clubs -- running club, Spanish club, etc. -- to force people to hang out with him.

Evan is the manager of the local Costco. On one fateful night, Evan runs into the nighttime security guard, Antonio Guzman (Joe Nunez), a Hispanic immigrant who has just passed his U.S. citizenship exam. Evan is quite proud of his growing collection of ethnic friends; now that Antonio is a card-carrying member of the U.S. of A., he becomes another trophy for Evan's mantel.

Just when it seems The Watch has pushed Evan's acceptance of "others" a bit too far, the film turns into an alien invasion flick -- specifically an alien invasion flick in which aliens might be disguised as humans. We have all seen Invasion of the Body Snatchers, right? Well, it is impossible to tell if The Watch is lampooning the fear-mongering that is inherent in aliens-disguised-as-humans films like Invasion of the Body Snatchers, or if it is actually taking its own plot seriously. In fact, nothing is ever what it seems, especially The Watch's opinion of "others," as well as its opinion of Evan and his neighborhood watch crew -- Bob (Vince Vaughn), Franklin (Jonah Hill), and Jamarcus (Richard Ayoade).

The gaggle of screenwriters -- Jared Stern, Seth Rogen, Evan Goldberg -- obviously tries to set up Evan as being overly accepting of "others" then turn his world so upside down that he is forced to fear practically everyone. If they could pull that trick off more smoothly, maybe the plot of The Watch would be more effective. Instead, the much-too-clever-for-their-own-good screenwriters muddy up the narrative with a lot of useless information, primarily Evan's sexual issues and Bob's parenting issues. All the while, Franklin is revealed to be a one-dimensional caricature of a nutso vigilante and Jamarcus is...well...just another geeky British guy played by Ayoade.

The Watch tries to be a very masculine film, saturated with mindless, testosterone-fueled humor. I can sometimes deal with "manly" (in this case, boyish) jokes, but even the fleeting memories of the film's long-winded sketch mocking the Abu Ghraib photos still completely spoils my mood. The script is fascinated with the masculine need for dominance, whether it be by using a penis, gun or knife. The Watch seems overly fixated on male genitalia (and other phallic metaphors), continuously going out of its way to squeeze in as many penis and cum jokes as possible. The women of The Watch are embarrassingly passive, sexual objects. Using the logic of The Watch, anyone (especially women) without a fully functioning penis (or gun) is powerless. Instead, women are repeatedly represented as vacant orifices that serve as mere receptacles for penises, including Evan's sex-starved wife, Abby (Rosemarie DeWitt). Heck, even the aliens want a piece of that action.

THEATER REVIEW: WHAT DO YOU DREAM OF?

Gerald Rivers in What Do You Dream Of?

From the mountaintop

By Ed Rampell

During the long imprisonment of her husband, Nelson Mandela, Winnie Mandela felt like “Part of my soul went with him,” as the title of her autobiography put it. In the same vein, when Dr. Martin Luther King’s life was cut short and the Civil Rights leader was taken away from us by an assassin’s bullet in 1968, part of America’s collective soul went with him. I truly don’t think the USA has ever recovered from the loss of such a moral compass, who could speak truth to power so authoritatively, persuasively -- and eloquently.

But for one night only, this one-of-a-kind apostle of peace will live again onstage during Gerald Rivers’ (almost) one man show What Do You Dream Of?Dr. King called America the world’s “greatest purveyor of violence” and Rivers is surely the planet’s greatest purveyor of this prophet of nonviolence in the entire arts world. With a smidgen of poet Samuel Coleridge’s “willing suspension of disbelief,” for 90 minutes or so Rivers’ uncanny impressions of the noble Nobel Peace Prize winner seems to bring King back to life.

According to Ellen Geer, Artistic Director of the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum, “the Martin Luther King estate adores Gerald. They really opened the literature to him… The library is open to him; all of Martin Luther King’s works, so that should say something,” especially considering that the King family is noted for its tightfisted control and copyrighting of the slain patriarch’s literary legacy.

The MLK speeches Rivers draws upon during his production include: “I Have A Dream”; “Funtown USA”; "The Street Sweeper"; and “American Dream.” Two songs were written especially for the Theatricum show: "Dare to Dream" by Jeffrina Oakes and "MLK Saved the Day," written by 13-year-old Miles McAliley.

Although essentially a one man show, the play includes African and Asian dance numbers. What Do You Dream Of?is playing July 27 at the Theatricum’s smaller 100-ish seat “Under the Oaks” amphitheatre for a special one night only performance as a fundraiser for the Topanga theatre company.

Geer, who was interviewed in front of Woody Guthrie’s cabin at the Topanga grounds, goes on to say, “Gerald has become very important, because of the way he delivers, and the power behind when he does Martin Luther King’s speeches is quite profound… He understands how to drum up that wonderful energy Martin Luther King had to engage a large group of people… And he’s created this piece, and his children are in it this year. His daughter, who is an intern here with us, and his son, who was an intern last year” at the Theatricum, which not only presents Shakespeare and more under the stars in its twin Topanga amphitheatres, but also trains young talents who aspire to work in the theatre.

As stellar as Rivers’ depiction of MLK is, he is no one-trick pony. Rivers is a longtime member of the Theatricum’s troupe of thespians, who appears this summer in the theatre company’s rollicking production of Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure, which takes artistic liberties and under Ellen’s tutelage, is reset from Elizabethan London circa 1603 to counterculture California during the sizzling 1960s. Rivers appears as King at the opening of the updated Measure for Measure, “then he plays a pimp; it’s a beautiful switch,” laughs Geer, as Rivers depicts a Blaxploitation type of procurer during most of Shakespeare’s bawdy comedy.

During What Do You Dream Of?the dreadlocked Gerald also portrays a Southern Grandmother (in a tribute to all grandmas); a man (Sherman Tank) incarcerated along with Dr. King; MLK’s daughter, Yolanda; plus “Dreamawonde,” the ancient African Griot, with his father “Azanti.” But of course, the highlight is when not-so-old-man Rivers brings that shining prince of peace ever so back to life. For an hour and a half or so, through the magic of live theatre, viewers’ hearts can stop aching from the loss of our beloved dreamer and ever so briefly, our souls can soar again towards that long, lost “Beloved Community” Dr. King rhapsodized about. Rivers’ play allows us to fly back up the mountaintop and, as Hamlet put it, “Perchance to dream.”


What Do You Dream Of?will be performed tonight, 8 p.m., at the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum: 1419 N. Topanga Canyon Blvd., Topanga, California, 90290. For information: 310/455-3723; www.Theatricum.com.

FILM REVIEW: DARK HORSE

Miranda (Selma Blair) and Abe (Jordan Gelber) in Dark Horse.

The soul of Solodnz's Miranda

By Don Simpson

Abe (Jordan Gelber) is essentially all of Hollywood's stereotypes of losers rolled into one: overweight, balding, collector of action figures, 35-years-old and resides with his parents (Mia Farrow and Christopher Walken), works for his father (but seems utterly incapable of actually doing any work), drives a yellow Hummer, and listens to nothing but cheesy bubblegum pop. He is an overgrown brat who is prone to lashing out at everyone around him and blaming his family for his arrested development.

As you can probably guess, Abe's social skills are also lacking. This is showcased during the opening sequence in which Abe attempts to get a phone number from the quietly morose woman -- Miranda (Selma Blair) -- who is helplessly seated next to him at a wedding. Abe knows no boundaries and Miranda is ill-equipped to deal with a man who cannot take a hint. Nonetheless, Abe pries each digit from Miranda as if he is yanking her teeth out one by one with his fingers.

Writer-director Todd Solondz has an inherent knack for uncomfortable situations, and he attacks the opening sequence like the somewhat seasoned veteran that he is. Unfortunately, Solondz quickly becomes stuck in a quagmire of having nothing else to do with these two losers. So what would have been an inspired short film is stretched into a lazy portrayal of one-dimensional caricatures with limited personality traits that play in an endless loop for Dark Horse's 86-minute running time. Abe alternates between throwing childish tantrums and confusing lucid dreams with reality, while Miranda remains expressionless and emotionless. (It is a "joke" that she is so incredibly dull that she names her dog, Dog.)

In a way, Dark Horse is a lot like Miranda. The film has absolutely nothing to say or do. The narrative just stands there, blankly staring at us like Dora (the Explorer) awaiting our response. But what are we supposed to respond to? For better or worse (mostly worse), it seems as though Solondz no longer feels the desire to shock us; instead he just tries to bore us into a hypnotized state of mind-numbing submission. Then, once Abe starts slipping into ridiculous fits of fantasy, Dark Horse dissolves into complete nonsense.

OUTFEST 2012: MY BEST DAY

Karen (Rachel Style) in My Best Day.

Thawed relationships

By Miranda Inganni

It is the Fourth of July and sparks will fly around a small town after a phone call in writer-director Erin Greenwell’s wonderfully crafted film, My Best Day.

Karen (Rachel Style) is bored and annoyed. While others enjoy the holiday independently from work, Karen is stuck answering phones for a repair shop. Assuming the normal tedium, Karen’s day changes after she receives a call from a man with the same name as the father of hers she has never knew.

Eager to find out if the man is her father, Karen takes a trip to the next town over with the help of her friend, Meagan (Ashlie Atkinson). Meagan is going through a bit of a bout of relationship woes and recently has purchased a motorcycle -- perchance for a ride to freedom with an attractive, new love interest. With Meagan posing as the fridge repair person, the two young women get involved with Karen’s newly reunited family.

Subtle, nuanced hilarity ensues.

Karen reconnects with her half-sister, Stacy (Jo Armeniox), whose life has been overwhelmed by a gambling problem, while meeting her younger half-brother, Ray (Robert Salerno), who spends his day fighting with neighborhood bullies while trying to win over his first love. Then there are the nutty cops, a guy in search of meatless meat and host of smaller, small town folk.

Greenwell’s writing is superb and the cast of characters is extremely well acted, if not just exceptionally well cast. Characters are comical yet recognizable, making My Best Day one of the better films of the Outfest film festival.

OUTFEST 2012: A MAP FOR A TALK

Javiera (Francisca Bernardi) and Roberta (Mora Andrea) in A Map for a Talk. 

A Chile reception

By Miranda Inganni

Set in two days in Santiago, Chile, A Map for a Talk (Mapa Para Conversar) addresses the difficulties of establishing a relationship with someone while an overbearing parent looks on with distrust and dismay.

Roberta (Moro Andrea) is raising her young son, Emilio (Romano Kottow), with her girlfriend, Javiera (Francisca Bernardi). The tension between the lovers quietly simmers while they go about their daily lives, but it is clearly taxing the two women. One afternoon Roberta joins her mother, Ana (Mariana Prat), for coffee specifically to tell mom about her relationship with Javiera. A rather conservative woman with an uncomfortable past association with the politics of Chile's Pinochet regime, Ana is more concerned with her own image than her daughter's happiness.

Roberta decides that a day at sea on a relatively small sail boat is exactly what the three women need in order for her mother to be comfortable with Roberta’s lifestyle. What starts out with somewhat forced familiarity quickly turns to inebriated loss of inhibitions, which in turn leads to uncomfortable confrontations. Roberta and Javiera bicker. Roberta and Ana berate each other. Ana and Javiera butt heads.

While the dynamics between the two lovers is explored in writer-director Fernandez Constanza's A Map for a Talk, it is the relationship between mother and daughter that is at the heart of the film. Ana is not homophobic, she essentially approves of Javiera, but she clearly believes her daughter is not living up to her potential.


A Map for a Talk screens at Outfest 2012: July 14, 7:15 p.m., DGA 2; July 21, 2 p.m. DGA 2. For more information: A Map for a Talk.

FILM REVIEW: UNION SQUARE

Lucy (Mira Sorvino) in Union Square.

Unit-wit

By Don Simpson

Writer-director Nancy Savoca's Union Square is a strange, little film that seems unsure if it wants to achieve subtle neo-realism via a severely concentrated character study or appeal to the cheap seats as an over-the-top Odd Couple-like comedy.

The film follows a cartoonishly brash and outlandish babe from the Bronx, Lucy (Mira Sorvino), as she spirals uncontrollably towards a nervous breakdown. With what seems like a well-versed knack for dropping in on people, Lucy arrives at Union Square station to surprise a lover -- after some bargain shopping at Filene's Basement first, of course. When Lucy finally gets the not-so-subtle hint that her lover wants absolutely nothing to do with her, she heads straight to her estranged sister Jenny's (Tammy Blanchard) apartment.

Jenny is understandably shocked to see Lucy; and assuming that Lucy intends for this to be an extended stay, Jenny comes off as cold and unwelcoming. We then realize that maybe it is just in Jenny's natural personality to be cold and unwelcoming; just take a look around at her immaculately sterile apartment. You see, Jenny is one of those snobbishly organic, vegetarian types who suffers from the tunnel vision of her holier-than-thou lifestyle. Worst of all, Jenny has disowned her crazy family from the Bronx and developed a fictional past in which she grew up in a idyllic New England household, which is certainly more conducive to her bland granola-light lifestyle. Jenny shares the sterile bubble of her existence with her long-term fiancé, Bill (Mike Doyle), who is understandably confused by Lucy's sudden appearance...and, more than likely, Lucy's strong accent as well.

Savoca ensures that the audience develops no empathy or affection for either of the central protagonists, thus making Union Square a somewhat tortuous experience. Personalities are cranked up way past 11 in what turns out to be an acting showcase designed specifically to highlight Sorvino's dramatic range. Unfortunately, Union Square comes off as being a bit too over-directed, specifically because of some surprising plot twists that come inexplicably from nowhere. This is a story that would have benefited greatly from significantly less amplification of emotions.