Vampire Monologues
Presented by BroadAxe Theatre
Through Nov. 1 at Bongo After Hours Theatre
Jeremy Childs’ Vampire Monologues made a salutary splash on the local theater scene a few years ago. Childs, who has increasingly established himself as a triple-threat actor/director/writer, first presented his collection of imaginative, loopy short takes on vampire life under the aegis of Actors Bridge Ensemble in October 2000, and he subsequently revived the show a year later under the banner of BroadAxe Theatre, a company for which he now serves as artistic director.
With Halloween upon us, yet another version of Vampire Monologues—subtitled Final Draft—opened last weekend at Bongo After Hours Theatre. The shtick holds up pretty consistently, and Childs is definitely onto a good idea. Consisting of both revised and a few wholly new sketches, the 10 monologues—duologues in a case or two—provide the author with a useful M.O. for expressing intense, somewhat cynical and/or satirical viewpoints on pop culture and society. Meanwhile, incidental music—including some original compositions by Darin Karnes—helps to reinforce the dark mood with thick, angry guitar riffs.
But for all its talk of blood-feasting and the ways vampires go about procuring their victims (and how they feel about all manner of visceral, personal things), this show is at its best when it makes us laugh. This particular production—again under the direction of Brandon Boyd—is generally blessed with good performers, but they don’t always carry off the humor entirely. Case in point: the talented and energetic Anna Gorisch, who delivers one of the signature monologues, “Militant Feminist.” Gorisch is so personally appealing that she almost pulls off this strident empowerment piece, yet some of the tongue-in-cheek wit eludes us because she’s not playing the material with enough finesse or clarity, and the rhythm of the piece never quite gels. “Checklist” is another Vampire Monologues standard, wherein two cops patrol the city in their squad car, keeping the public safe from roaming bloodsuckers. The senior officer with almost all of the lines is Marc Mazzone, who delivers his rap with typical precision. Inexplicably, his focus feels off; it’s not clear if he’s talking to his partner, to the audience or maybe directly to God.
A few of the pieces left me scratching my head, specifically Evelyn Blythe in “Strawjobs” and Scott Moreno in “Thresholds,” both of which came off as esoteric. There’s still a lot of good solid work here, though. Kemper McDowell plays a trailer-trash vampire with consistent purpose in “Rumors of Mecca.” Matt Mellon is the spelunker vampire who brings his stripper girlfriend to “The Caves” for a, um, romantic rendezvous. And Robert Marigza and Sean Williams have a weirdly gay old time in “Undead Masochist,” which conjures the playful sensibility of the old SNL sketch “Sprockets,” only more baroque and, shall we say, personal.
The show’s veteran performers, Jon Royal and Josh Childs, serve up the best work of the evening. Royal’s “Bait” is a riveting rant on obesity, while Childs reprises his “Bloodfiend Neurotica,” presenting us with a totally assured standup comic routine, which isn’t always funny but is always very compelling.
Finally, a cheer for Kate Foreman and Paul Hull’s efforts on actor Clay Steakley’s gory makeup and costume in the opening piece, “Crosstreams.” That alone is almost worth the price of admission—but not quite, at $15 a pop for what is essentially a long one-act revue. The show overall, however, is surely worth that price. Those who have seen Childs’ vampires before will appreciate their reincarnation; newcomers who go for the offbeat will savor it.
Effective wrought 'Misery’
Circle Players’ new production of Misery, a stage adaptation of Stephen King’s well-known novel, offers proof that spookiness can be fully realized without the presence of vampires, goblins or demons. Best known from the 1990 film version starring Kathy Bates, Misery is an engrossing entertainment, and this rendering holds most of its psychological power. Few who have seen the movie can forget the tale of Annie Wilkes, a strangely repressed, even puritanical loner who rescues novelist Paul Sheldon from a car crash; she nurses him back to health in her isolated country home, only to turn a supposedly Good Samaritan deed into a nightmarish imprisonment for her infirm hostage.
Two-person casts often have a tough time keeping the momentum going in scripts of any kind. Not so here, as Rachel Agee and Brian Hill continuously mine Simon Moore’s script for palpable dramatic moments. Hill does a super job of sensitively, restrainedly—yet vividly—underplaying the Sheldon role, and Agee likewise keeps an admirably firm grip on the Annie Wilkes excesses. Mark Allen’s direction is generally very intelligent, and the actors play the potentially most explosive scenes with well-thought-out subtlety and cautious avoidance of gratuitousness. That said, Agee delivers plenty of subtle terror in her portrayal of the relentlessly obsessive, inexorably twisted Wilkes.
I guess it’s no surprise that no one takes credit in the program for the set design. It’s artless but serviceable, indicative of a stressed community theater budget (which is to say it could even be worse). Sound designer Lynn Bowden backs up the proceedings with some interesting musical selections and sound effects, and Dru Heffington’s lights come and go with enough eerie purpose.
This Misery is anything but, featuring a surprisingly consistent pulse in its depiction of embattled egos and perverse motivations. The show runs through Nov. 2 at TPAC’s Johnson Theater.
