THIS LA “BASH” IS THE ONE TO SEE

by Shelley Gabert

It’s an ambitious undertaking for any theater group to take on a Neil LaBute play, especially BASH, which is a series of one act plays, or monologues where the actors as ordinary people drudge up their horrific crimes for our pleasure. Originally premiering Off-Broadway in 1999, starring Ron Eldard, Calista Flockhart and Paul Rudd, the brutal language is still powerful and has lost none of its resonance, as it circles around itself, and draws you in only to deceive you. If you haven’t seen one of the productions mounted here in Los Angeles recently, or the Showtime taped for television version, the Crooked Neck Production currently running at the Elephant Asylum in Hollywood (Tuesday and Wednesdays through June 14) is definitely the one to see.

Founded by Rachel Jackson and Stephanie Nasteff, Crooked Neck Productions has produced several Off-Of Broadway productions in New York, but this is their first project in Los Angeles. BASH stars Jackson, Charlie Capen and David Weynand, who each give strong, nuanced performances. Under the direction of Josh Biton, who was in communication with LaBute, the set is stark, and there are no distractions from the actors’ or their biting words. Watching them is similar to driving by a car crash and craning to see the victims being pulled out -- we want to look but at the same time we don’t want to look. “Thank god it’s not us,” we say, but lurking inside is the realization that it could be. Opening night, May 17, there was lots of nervous laughter throughout the pieces, a reaction from how uncomfortable and on edge these pieces make you feel. Every time we think we know about these characters turns out to be totally wrong, and the awful twist really is that they get away with their crimes and there’s no redemption, no saving grace for them, or, maybe for us, either.

In the first act, Weynand is riveting as the man in “Iphigenia in Orem,” the strongest written piece. And he’s up to the material. He oozes insincerity but is distraut and funny at the same time. This man is really an every man, struggling to keep his job in the corporate rat race, fearful of his women co-workers and trying to keep his family together. Is he in this hotel room to confess to the strange woman he has picked up, and then end his suffering or does he just long to tell someone about the unimaginable crime he has committed? In the end, he doesn’t seem better for sharing his story and it’s one the audience would prefer not to have heard, but it’s bone chilling none the less.

The All American couple in “A Gaggle of Saints,” the second act and title piece embody our romantic view of young love. As they reminisce about a trip to New York, we’re drawn in by their bubbling enthusiasm and affection. In her black ball gown, blonde hair pulled back and red lipstick, Jackson and Capen in his tux, seem ready to ride off into the sunset or at least a carriage ride around Central Park. Instead, Capen and his friends beat up a gay man that night, so horrified are they to see the man kissing his lover in the dark. It’s really Capen’s performance, upbeat but scary, but as his girlfriend (Jackson) interrupts and adds often superficial but funny details and anecdotes that demonstrate how in the dark she really is about the person she loves. Jackson makes an astonishing transformation not only physical but spiritual when she comes back on stage for the final piece, “Medea Redux”. For a minute, you’re not sure it’s really her. . the make up is gone, her hair is pulled back in a straggly ponytail and she’s wearing frumpy clothes. She’s also reverted to behavior more like the 13 year old girl she was when she was molested by a school teacher than a woman of 27. Jackson gives a haunting performance as she shares the details of their romance, her subsequent pregnancy and the pivotal meeting between her son and his father 14 years later.

Shelley Gabert is a freelance journalist who covers film and television for Variety, Emmy, Documentary Magazine and FilmStew.com.