PART OF THE risk of staging experimental theatre is that sometimes it doesn't work as well as the directors envision. Such is the case with a.k.a. Theatre's Original Short Works Festival, a series of four one-acts which, despite clever dialogue and a few competent performances, generally fail to generate the excitement for which they aim.
Managing Director Noel Chester says the selection of works featured in the festival came together in the "spur of the moment on a fast deadline," from a small body of submissions.
"We wanted to open up to the community, so we were committed to going through with what we got," says Chester. "We decided that this was what the community gave us, so this is what we would give back."
The three Tucson playwrights--Marc Goldfeder, Gary Sabbag and
Martin Chandler--turn out admirable efforts considering their
limited experience. The festival opener is only the second play
Goldfeder's ever written. And Rachel Parker's stirring sketch
shows insightful wit for a woman in her early 20s. Still, these
are clearly works in progress.
The production opens with Goldfeder's A Simple Proposition, a Faustian version of a bar pick-up scene in which two femmes fatales set out to get (literally and metaphorically) a glib male barmate. Vexed by his affectation, the two unleash a provocative verbal barrage regarding sex, cigarette smoking, the damnation of the soul and the art of conversation, not necessarily in that order. Clever dialogue and synergistic chemistry between the two women (played by Suzi List and Delani D. Cody) keep this fast-moving banter interesting throughout. Though the conclusion seems disappointingly abrupt after such seemingly purposeful wordplay, this is a forgivable sin in an otherwise well-executed effort.
From this promising start we move into Soul Mates, a dismal effort to make a case study of the transmigration of souls, as narrated "by the book" by two angelic figures. The story has potential, chronicling 2,000 years of near-miss chance encounters faced by two incognizant, karmically-challenged strangers now awkwardly waiting for the same train. But the acting is both too ridiculous to be taken seriously and too earnest to be funny. The actors (Ben Priam and Hillary Pursehouse as "Figures No. 1 and No. 2," Charles D. Prokopp as "Man" and Delani D. Cody as "Woman") need more attentive direction, a surprising glitch since Gary Sabbag is directing his own play. Soul Mates is not without comic merit, but the frantic whining and swooping of the two white-caped crusaders becomes so annoying you can't wait to get on to the next life....
...Which is, appropriately, a murder mystery called Scarlet Angel, by Martin Chandler. This psychiatric interview between patient Bob (played by Robert E. Jensen) and his psychiatrist (Tracy Alexis Trapani) takes an unusual twist when the good doctor tries to illicit a murderous confession from her subject. Lisa Danielle Coffey plays an outspoken ghostly apparition, possibly an incarnation of Bob's subconscious, as he recounts the events on the night of his girlfriend's murder. The play admirably attempts a suspenseful edge, creating a menacing image of psychology by portraying the doctor as more of an interrogator than a therapist. But the power of suggestion isn't sufficient to carry Angel to a climactic conclusion.
Despite their sincerity, it seems painfully clear the actors are acting out emotions rather than believably going through them. The result is an escalating volume that's more like getting caught in a yelling match than hanging in suspense. More expression and less projection would go a long way toward making the audience gasp rather than sigh at the conclusion.
Finally, we settle into The Hair Shirt, set in a rat's nest of an apartment where the neurotic Frankie (convincingly played by Rachel Parker) has collected a homeless Electra (Noel Chester) from the streets below. At times, The Hair Shirt is an interesting character study of two women haunted by their pasts, making one an obsessive-compulsive introvert and the other a restless, angry fugitive. But the script does itself a disservice with repeated interruptions that take the audience away from the characters to note the passage of time (the story spans several days).
As with the other plays, the writing is good. Sticking to a true one-act format and tightening up the script might have a more focused, intense effect on the audience as they watch the relationship between the odd couple develop.
While a.k.a.'s latest may not be its greatest, the talent and energy of cast and crew should not be overlooked...or underestimated. A glance at the program reveals the variety of hats these devoted performers are forced to wear just to stage a workable production. You have writers directing and acting their own plays, actors providing technical support, and directors directing themselves, as in The Hair Shirt, written by Rachel Parker, directed by Noel Chester and Rachel Parker and starring--who else--Rachel Parker and Noel Chester. While playing the jack of all trades is an admirable undertaking, it has the unfortunate proverbial result: master of none.
The Original Short Works Festival aims high and falls a bit shy of the mark, but it still goes an impressive distance, as indicated by the audience's enthusiastic response on opening night. Perhaps that's the festival's greatest success--if some love it and some hate it, they must have done something right.
