Prototype Issue
The Golden State
By Nathaniel Page
(page 1 of 1)The Golden State is Moliere’s The Miser adapted to a southern California setting, an estate somewhere in the hills with the wildfires closing in. “A play of greed, lust, and other American values” heralds the bill, “with women on top.”
There is nothing dignified about the woman on top, of course, the acidic miser and object of universal loathing Gertrude.
In typical Dell Arte form, the play is a political statement by way of comedy. The central characters are alternately ridiculous, loathsome and pathetic; only the underpaid domestic servants evoke any sympathy. As is also usually the case with this theatre company, the play leans heavily on the comedic values of a flaming homosexual and a hysterical fat man.
The latter, Chubby Hopper, is a deadbeat thirty-five year old painkiller addict played by Tyler Olsen. His sister Sylvia Hopper (Barbara Geary) is a suicidal prima donna seduced by the disgruntled Chilean gardener. They both still live at home, stunted by their tyrannical mother.
The audience did not fill the auditorium, and I suspected that it was heavily composed of theatre students. By intermission I was feeling disappointed and heard grumblings of “flop” and “missed the point” from those around me, along with technical critiques. I couldn’t imagine that anyone hadn’t caught the joke, but the cartoonishly odious stereotypes initially came across as excessively sardonic and pointless.
Also, it was only their third performance, and it showed in a certain lack of cohesion between the actors. Guillermo Calderon’s portrayal of the gardener was wooden. His lack of enthusiasm contrasted unpleasantly with that of Joan Schirle, playing the evil Gertrude, who almost could have carried the show herself. Equally garish and spectacular were the flamboyant Federico, with his lip gloss, jock strap, and faux-Mexican accent, and the perpetually bellowing Chubby with his potbelly hanging out and short little tie.
The second half redeemed everything, though. The characters’ antics rose to progressively higher levels of outrageousness, the plot went from absurd to preposterous, and the crescendo was the never-failing hilarity of a stout old man playing a stout old woman.
The play has great potential, and after a few more nights I expect that it will be executed flawlessly.
Through February 24. Fridays & Saturdays Feb. 15, 16 22, & 23 at 8pm; Sundays Feb. 17 & 24 at 3pm. Tickets, $15-$25. 24th Street Theatre, 1117 West 24th Street, LA, 800-838-3006, www.24thstreet.org.
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