"Not a Genuine Black Man": ☼ ☼ ☼ BANG

It's still great. Even though Brian Copeland had serious spinal surgery in the Spring of 2008, and his week-long benefit for the Marsh Theater is his first spin back on stage in all that time, and even though up until his hospital stay he had been performing 'Not a Genuine Black Man' almost constantly, across the country and Off-Broadway, since its debut at the Marsh in 2004 (where it became the longest running solo show in San Francisco theater history), the material is still fresh. Its revelations continue to tear at our inner core.

Yes, Copeland is a little stiffer and maybe the tears and screams are a little more forced than when the show was new. But his story resonates, not because of his emotion in telling it, but because of the obvious truths he makes us face. Racism was real for him as a child in San Leandro in the late '60s and '70s, and though that monster has perhaps lessened its grip, it has not in any way disappeared from our lives.

It helps that Copeland is such an excellent performer. WARNING: his descriptions of everyone, be it his mother, father and grandmother or the landlords who are trying to evict them, are so spot-on that it may feel awkward at first to let that belly laugh escape. But you can't hold it back. The show is too funny.

Neither blacks nor whites are being held for ransom here, and Copeland is not trying to be Dave Chappelle. This is a theater piece, not a comedy review, and though his story may make you uneasy, it insists on making us all consider his central question: "What is it that makes the racial identity of successful black men suspect?"

There's only one week to see Brian Copeland at the Marsh, where his journey began. All proceeds are being donated to the theater to purchase new seats. We'll miss those old red spine squashers, but not too much.
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RATINGS : ☼ ☼ ☼ BANG

The San Francisco Theater Blog Awards Division awards "Not a Genuine Black Man" Three Stars with a BANGLE of Praise. The BANGLE is for Copeland himself having enough heart to honor his commitment to the Marsh. It's nice to hear that Ed Asner is considering making a TV series out of the piece, though God help us if Asner wants to play Brian Copeland. They'll have to change the chitlins/chitterlings gag.

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"Not a Genuine Black Man"
Benefit for Marsh Theater
1062 Valencia Street, San Francisco
Thu-Sat. July 24-26
$25-$50, sliding scale

"The Stove is White": UNRATED

Storyteller Jeanne Haynes is in her sixties and has an interesting tale to tell about her family. She appeared at The Marsh's Wednesday night Marsh Rising Series, whose purpose is to help development of new shows into the caliber suitable for a MainStage run. Haynes appears to still be more of a living room storyteller than captivating performer (she continually forgot her lines and needed prompting from a helper in the first row), so although there are touching and humorous moments, 'The Stove is White' is not ready yet.

RATINGS

"The Stove is White" has not received a rating.

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'The Stove is White'
Marsh Theater
1062 Valencia St., San Francisco

"The Busy World is Hushed": ☼ ☼ 1/2 BANG baub

At the heart of Keith Bunin's "The Busy World is Hushed" is a quest for understanding. Three characters circle the stage for two acts and spend most of their time discussing the life of Jesus and the parallels with their own lives -- which, the more they talk, become more and more intertwined.

Hannah (Anne Darragh) is an Episcopalian minister who has been sent a newly-discovered gospel of Jesus. She hires Brandt (Chad Deverman) to help her research and ghost-write a scholarly tome about this gospel. Brandt, struggling with the imminent loss of his father, can use a parent and Hannah, with trials of her own, needs someone onto whom whom she can pour her motherly feelings. It's all very neat until her wayward son Thomas (James Wagner) arrives. Brandt and Thomas are gay (the backdrop of the Episcopalian church's struggle with acceptance of homosexual pastors is embedded in the writing), so it's only a matter of time until they attempt to find Heaven in each other's arms. The Mom is perfectly happy with this arrangement -- too happy, in fact, which leads to the final inevitable blowup. No surprises here.



Anne Darragh does a marvelous job of bringing us into her world of scholarship and ministry. If she is bothered by the mysterious death of her husband, or the seemingly destructive behavior of her son, these only serve to strengthen her faith in God. Darragh has the craft to make us believe what would normally be a rather iffy rationalization.

Deverman and Darragh work beautifully off each other. But when Wagner's Thomas is in the picture it falls apart. Thomas and Brandt -- well, they don't have much chemistry. Brandt talks too much and Thomas is a jerk. Still, the audience is asked to feel empathy both for Thomas's disturbing lack of love for his mother, and for the inevitable breakup of his relationship with Brandt. Maybe it's casting, though all three actors have been excellent in other Bay Area roles (Deverman was fantastic in SF Playhouse's 'First Person Shooter'). Perhaps Robin Stanton's stand-here-speak-walk-over-there-speak direction was the best she could do with the material.



Anne Darragh is the only one with a clue and she tries hard to steal the show. The two men, when they're done groping, have little to add to the discussion.

RATINGS ☼ ☼ 1/2 BANG baub

The San Francisco Theater Blog Awards Division awards "The Busy World is Hushed" two and a half stars with one BANGLE of Praise and one bauble of despair. One of the stars is for Anne Darragh's controlled and underplayed minister; another is for the moments she and Chad Deverman comfort one another. It's nice to watch. The last half star is because Bunin's writing makes us look over our shoulder for God when we leave the theater. We realize we could drive into a pothole and never come out while God stood on the sidewalk selling the Street Sheet.

The BANGLE of Praise is given for Minister Hannah's no-nonsense moment when she stares through the stained-glass windows (that she loathes), and says: "I want my windows clear of stain. I want nothing to cloud my view of God." She is able to bare her soul and bring us with her.

The bauble of despair has to be given to the depicted amorous relationship. Perhaps both actors are gay, or one, or none -- and perhaps straight theater reviewers are not supposed to get gay groping -- baloney. Has anyone seen Octopus? Love and fire are there, or they're not. If not, please let them stop writhing on the rug.

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"The Busy World is Hushed"
Aurora Theater Company
2081 Addison St., Berkeley
Thu-Sun through July 20: $40-$42

" Squeezebox": ☼ ☼ ☼ BANG BANG

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"'Tis Pity She's a Whore": ☼ ☼ ☼

Nobody does stairways like A.C.T. Certainly, the rooming houses in August Wilson's "Gem of the Ocean' and Phillip Kan Gotanda's "After the War" come to mind. Walt Spangler's surrealistic stairways to Heaven in the new A.C.T. production of John Ford's "'Tis Pity She's a Whore" fit admirably into the long line of on-stage carpentry extravaganzas.

As for Ford's almost 400-year-old avant-baroque morality tale: the stairways helped. With two acts encompassing more than two and a half hours of Middle-English conversation, it was good that the actors had somewhere to walk. The subject matter (incest) would certainly have been controversial at the time the play was written, but perhaps less so since the English writer set the tale in Italy where the villains are all Catholics and the evilest of all characters is the Cardinal himself (Jack Willis). It is smarmy he who, as the curtain comes down, pronounces Ford's famous last couplet:

"Of one so young, so rich in Nature's store
Who could not say: "'tis Pity she's a whore!"



Just about everyone is dead by this time and the Cardinal has appropriated all the valuables for himself. Keep in mind that John Ford was one of the leading English playwrights during the reign of Charles 1, a Protestant who married a Catholic to the dismay of the English people (and, presumably, the playwrights).

It cost Charles his head. So expect incest, duels, at least one poisoning, a lot of backstabbing and front stabbing, masks, intrigues and long speeches about lust = death. Perhaps the excellent Rene Augesen (Annabella) sums the story best, when she cries: "Love me or kill me" -- she says this as her brother kneels beside her with a sharp knife between them. Blood will flow.



RATINGS: ☼ ☼ ☼

The San Francisco Theater Blog Awards Division awards "'Tis Pity She's a Whore" one star for Walt Spangler's priceless set; another for Candice Donnelly's brilliant costumes and Robert Wierzel's inventive lighting, half a star for the music (more in a moment) which helps to convey mood during scene changes; and the final half because it's such a fascinating production and it has Gregory Wallace (Bergetto) in it. He was a brilliant tax inspector last time out but he's a fine Italian scooter-riding fool as well.



About the music: a great deal is made about the performance of Bonfire Madigan Shive on cello. She is part of the scenery itself. She looks great. She sounds pretty good too, plus she can scream. One of these nights she just might eat her cello. Think Baroque Bjork. The audience loved her.



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"'Tis Pity She's a Whore"
A.C.T. Theatre
405 Geary Street, San Francisco
Tue.-Sat. through July 6
$17-$82

"The Cooking Show with Karimi and Castro": ☼ ☼ 1/2 + BANG - 1/2 baub

Although they are carrying knives, Comrade Mero Cocinero Karimi ("the man who put the meat in meatless)" and his favorite leftist right-hand man Comrade Ex (not 'X' as in Malcolm, but 'Ex' as in his current dating status), do not appear to be dangerous men. Whether in back of their food prep tables or walking through the audience serving food to the audience, Robert Farid Karimi and John Manal Castro are very funny guys.

Their slogan is: "La revolución empieza en la cocina" (the revolution begins in the kitchen), and their banter is laced with political activism. When Karimi proudly announces the evening's food preparations will come from locally produced organic vegetables, Comrade Ex gently reminds him they couldn't afford the $20/lb. green leaf lettuce from the Ferry Building Farmer's Market and that the soy sauce comes from Wisconsin.

Guised as a television cooking show, there is music too: Karimi's gag song "I Want to Be Where the Iron Chefs Are" is pleasant, but could be tighter. As an evening of entertainment, the duo excels when doing their planned-out bits, but improvisations tend to drag and Comrade Karimi can become a bit overbearing, especially when he is wheedling for donations at the end.

Karimi and Castro can do more with this show (this reviewer saw it at the final performance of the United States of Asian America Festival). It's unique enough to become a true gem. The two need to put aside the public radio personae and think of themselves as stars. They can do it. The audience will always be on their side, because they're really likable guys.

And a special shout out for the The Persian (whoops, Iranian) yogurt with dill and mint: delicious. Thank you, brothers.



RATINGS: ☼ ☼ 1/2 + BANG - 1/2 Baub

The San Francisco Theater Blog Awards Division awards "The Cooking Show with Karimi and Castro" two and a half stars with a BANGLE of Praise (and a half-bauble of Despair). There is not enough happening on a theater level to talk about characters or lighting or staging, but the Cooking Show idea is intriguing and anyone who has ever seen Bobby Flay or Rachael Rae on TV will enjoy the references. The bit about Spam ("Spam has brought joy to Filipinos, Hawaiians and Trailer Parks across the USA") earns a hysterical BANGLE of Praise. But if Comrade Ex's Cutting Corner is going to remain in the show, and it should, he really has to learn to cut something a little more complex than a carrot into slices, and the audience needs to be able to see it.

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"The Cooking Show with Karimi and Castro"
SoMarts Center, 934 Brannan Street San Francisco
Part of the 11th Annual United States of Asian America Festival, now concluded

"Octopus": ☼ ☼ ☼ 1/2 BANG!

First off, you're going to see four naked men fondling each other on stage. Kevin and Blake have met Max and Andy in a neighborhood bar and almost immediately they are back at Kevin and Blake's apartment, in their birthday suits, having dispensed with foreplay, and are moving towards the bed.

But before you think this is a 'gay play,' think again. Steve Yockey's "Octopus," produced through a collaboration of Magic Theater and Encore Theater Company, is a universal love story that deals with the meaning of love, the implications of illness and, above all, the power of commitment.

The four men occupy the first fifteen minutes of the seventy minute, one act performance, but it is the appearance of the fifth (Rowan Brooks, as the unexpected Telegram Delivery Boy), that ratchets 'Octopus' away from your everyday relationship drama.



He has a telegram for Blake, which appears to have been sent from the bottom of the ocean. The Telegram Delivery Boy and the telegram are dripping with water, and that water never quite goes away. Quite the contrary: it becomes the show's most powerful metaphor, as well as the home of...the Octopus.

Patrick Alparone is terrific as the younger and more insecure Blake, as is Eric Kerr as his more distant partner Kevin. It is Kevin who has instigated the evening of sex with strangers, to Blake's nervous discomfort, but it is Blake who is prettier and more desirable. This leads to an unforeseen set of circumstances that bring us to a dark and watery world where saying you love someone is not nearly enough.

Clearly, we will all have to meet the Octopus. As Andy (Brad Erickson), the man who has been tossed aside, intones from the depths: "No one has ever bested this beast."



"Octopus" is hard to define -- part farce, it stings with truth. Highest praise to a young writer with a unique and many-armed talent.

RATINGS ☼ ☼ ☼ 1/2 BANG!

The San Francisco Theater Blog Awards Division awards 'Octopus' one star for the writing -- a rare combination of grand story telling with farcical twists. Kate Warner's flawless direction rates half a star, and Erik Flatmo's set design (oooh, that Bjork poster) and Jarrod Fischer's surreal lighting earn half a star each. The last star is for the ensemble of actors, with a special BANGLE of Praise for Rowan Brooks's Telegram Delivery Boy. All the acting is superb, but no one expects Brooks to go where he goes. Three and a half stars with a BANGLE of Praise, and when we see it again we may up it to Four Stars. The show is that good.



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"Octopus"
Magic Theatre
Fort Mason, Building D, San Francisco
Wed.-Sun. through June 8; $40-$45 (sliding scale on Wednesday)