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Rogue trip Kosher cowboys, chair ballet and belly dancers add funk to this festival. (Updated Thursday, March 11,
2004, 6:56 AM)
He was talking about "The Mysteries," a production of the Nowhere Theatre Company, a group primarily composed of theater majors at California State University, Fresno. Staged in a "promenade" style in which the audience is herded around as actors perform among them, the innovative production is a sort of hip, contemporary nod to the old medieval "mystery" plays that educated illiterate peasants about Bible stories. (The reenactment of Noah's famous flood, with cast members jiggling long blue streamers to approximate crashing waves, is a wonderful visual moment.) Nunis might have loved the show. But buzz can be a fickle master. Consider this comment from another patron about "The Mysteries" on the festival's message board (at http://www.roguefestival.com/) for audience reviews: "Unfortunately, this is the Old Testament the way your Sunday School teacher told it, except the actors speak medieval English. The archaic language didn't help alleviate my feeling of being preached to." The fun thing about an unjuried fringe festival is taking a chance. At a top ticket price of $6 -- with all proceeds going to the performers -- you can afford to experiment. Four Bee staffers did just that during the festival's first weekend. (The Rogue concludes with performances Friday night and Saturday. Most of the performances we saw return for the second weekend, and there are new acts as well.) We were among crowds that totaled more than 2,000 -- a festival record even before the second weekend. It wasn't possible to catch every performance, so we might have missed the hit of the festival. But that's part of taking a chance: But Where Was the Kitchen Sink? Ever seen a strainer faint? A mop wear sunglasses? A slow-motion martial arts kick, a la "The Matrix," performed by linen shaped like a woman? The All Too Real Players' "Junk Funk," described as "found object puppetry," is a labor-intensive foray into making something from next-to-nothing. Up to eight puppeteers -- covered in futuristic monkwear designed to make them disappear into the black background -- were required to bring the characters to life. Some of it is as slim as the extension cords that battle the aforementioned strainer in the first piece. But the last act, in which several sets of clothing go a-courtin', has romance, laughs and even a touch of regret. Fun, particularly for kids. (4 p.m. Saturday, Starline.) Best Use of Gibberish: Improver Behavior's "Full Frontal Improv" is a fast-paced hour with more games than the Olympics. The one in which several company members, using only pantomime and gibberish, communicate a Cluelike crime (for the record: Julius Caesar performed the murder with an outboard motor in a light socket) was the highlight. But just as inspired was the discussion of how to properly bake a pound of flesh for Super Bowl Sunday during the "Shakespeare Switch" game. Mel Gibson, take note. (7 p.m. Friday, Club Fred.) Come for the Theramin, Stay for the Music: Blake Jones never really answered the question posed by his "Theramin & Toy Piano . . . Is It Rock?" In fact, he didn't even flip the switch on the theramin until the last three numbers. But to see the instrument, most famous for its eerie contributions to 1950s sci-fi flicks and the Beach Boys' "Good Vibrations," played publicly was a rare treat -- especially in such close quarters on Veni Vidi Vici's patio. (Keep your arms and hands safely tucked away from the instrument.) Jones' bravura performance of "The Star-Spangled Banner" certainly had to have Jimi Hendrix sitting up somewhere, laughing and nodding in appreciation. If the theramin was something of a tease, Jones' jangly pop made the show worthwhile. Playful swaths of whimsy such as "My Baby Lacksadaisy" hit all the right notes, on the toy piano and otherwise. (No further performances.) Best Improvisation of a Mosh Pit: Patrick Reetz, acoustic guitarist for Chris Plays Guitar, hopped off the stage several times to tumble into the laps of female fans (and of drummer Bryan Zera, who sat out the semi-acoustic set). The band tempered the volume of its party rock but left all of the winking irreverence intact during a set Friday at Veni Vidi Vici. Between lyrics about beer, pop culture and sex, lead guitarist Chris Carey threw in solos in a swooping, slow-hand style that worked even when the guitar was behind his head or his legs. (8:15 p.m. Friday, Veni Vidi Vici.) Best Tribute to a Dead Guy: They Can't Hardly Playboys offered these reverent words Saturday night to a deceased pioneer of western swing: "Bob Wills would have been 99 today, and his liver would have been 200." The Playboys spent the rest of the set paying tribute to the thumping roots of country and blues. The set included Woody Guthrie's "(If You Ain't Got The) Do Re Mi" and Hank Williams' "Move It on Over." The band sports a strong rhythm section and some sweet solos on dobro and lap-steel guitar. Can't Hardly Play? Hardly. (4:30 p.m. Saturday, Veni Vidi Vici.) Dying for Sex: In Kevin McHatten's "Alive and Kicking," four women meet after a funeral, drink wine and spill lots of secrets -- including the revelation that a final resting place in a cemetery can offer temporary respite when it comes to you-know-what. There's an assured spark in this underdeveloped one-act play from Jaded Gypsy Productions, which could be described as "Sex and the City" meets "The Big Chill" as sponsored by the American Mortuary Association. Yet McHatten's script builds to its rushed final revelation without taking time to develop its characters. (8:30 p.m. Friday, Club Fred.) Best Performance by an Answering Machine: Should it be the prim, proper Princess phone in Marcel Nunis' clever "Calling It In"? Or the imposing, high-tech silhouette cast by the contemporary apparatus perched on a stool across the stage? If this were the Oscars, it'd be a toss-up. Nunis' company is called We Have No Actors Theatre, which isn't quite accurate -- it does have actors, but they recorded the script beforehand, letting the story unfold as the answering machines duke it out on stage by themselves. It's a show that could have sputtered once past its lively premise. But as you sit there and watch the dialogue unfold between the two spotlighted machines -- and yes, you do wind up swiveling your head like it's a tennis match -- it becomes clear that Nunis' clever version of "How the Tower District Turns" is a hoot. And you'll never think of Harvey Keitel the same way again. Kudos to the production's lighting design, which at times flickers and dances in the background as if it were another character. Also on the bill: Mallory Moad's "Dadapalooza 2," in which an off-site director tells her on a cell phone to do wacky things. Does workman's comp cover being hit in the face with a marshmallow? (5:30 p.m. Saturday, Club Fred.) Texas-Style Down-Home Bris Alert: The Irregular Theater Company's "Blame It on the Chlorine" offers nice chuckles -- including an inspired bit featuring a kosher cowboy and an appearance by a TV evangelist so smarmy you're practically obligated to throw money at him. But the structure of this improvisational-comedy production, in which the audience becomes participants in a "family reunion," is too heavy on the prewritten set pieces. In other words: Give us more improv. (1 p.m. Saturday, Starline.) Best Use of Phone Books: In Kenneth Balint and Cheryl Kershaw's dance production, "Holophrastic Kinesics," a tree-on-wheels built of phone books from New York, Puerto Rico and other places plays a central role. One dancer shouts the name of each city or country, and the other dancers free-associate their responses while dancing. The audience got into the action -- too bad about the technical glitches. (No further performances.) Most Quotable Pick-Up Line: "Do you have room in your purse for keys to a Hummer?" "Lunkheads on Parade," written by Nunis (he's a busy guy) and a Just Another Cheap As production, is a conflagration of relationship woe, cheeky local references ("Say, didn't you go to Computech?"), brisk comic asides, philosophical meanderings and good-natured intellectual puffery. Though it almost threatens to burst at the seams, there's a nice emotional arc to this one-act play about two friends hanging out in a bar trying to figure out what women want. An especially compelling moment: a tango of memory in which one character reenacts an entire relationship on the dance floor. (10 p.m. Friday, 5:30 p.m. Saturday, Starline.) Girl With More Than a Pearl Earring: At one point in the entrancing "Tapestry of Time & Traditions," one of the belly dancers unclasps a strand of pearls from her neck, attaches it around her midsection and proceeds to make the pearls wiggle up and down using stomach-muscle-power. Who needs an ab cruncher? This show from the Ananka Dance Company plays as a sort of primer of belly-dancing history. The colorful costumes are professional-cabaret quality, the dances crisply choreographed, the atmosphere inviting and the energy infectious. (8:30 p.m. Friday, Starline.) Thou Shalt Act: Brandon Petrie plays God in "The Mysteries," and what a self-satisfied CEO of the universe he makes as he's perched on a ladder surveying his creation. He has the slight smugness of a really smart doctor as he deals with Adam and Eve, the holier-than-thou glibness of a self-assured preacher as he squares off against Satan. This provocatively and beautifully staged excerpt from Tony Harrison's play, which creates Old Testament stories from the Bible using Medieval-style verse and live music, has entrancing moments, and Petrie more than anyone in the talented cast captures the tone that's needed to keep it from being a bland, self-important Sunday School lesson. But the verse can bog down. And what's up with the deliberately vague program description? (2:30 p.m. Saturday, Starline.) Best Free Locales to Experience the Rogue: The Rogue's Galleries, where belly-dancers and various performance artists pop in and offer a free sample of Rogue shows. You can take in some art while you're at it. 637 Salon, 637 E. Olive Ave.; Ashtree Studio, 1035 N. Fulton St.; Recycom Gallery, 604 E. Olive Ave. (5:45-9:30 p.m. Friday, 1-9:30 p.m. Saturday.) Beautiful Music: Singer-songwriter Merlinda Espinosa's "Songs of Love & Struggle" combines Latino folk songs with Beatles tunes, sung by a gifted teen with a grown-up and chill-inducing voice. (7 p.m. Friday, Veni Vidi Vici.) Best Use of Office Chairs: The centerpiece of the you-have-to-see-it-to-believe-it "Lost & Found on the 99" from Baba for Now is an extended ballet with office chairs. Wacky or weird? Certainly no more so than the dance number featuring old folks and their walkers in the decidedly mainstream theatrical hit "The Producers." What starts out comic actually morphs into a thing of beauty. You do have to see it to believe it. (1 p.m. Saturday, Club Fred.) Fresno Bee staff writers Marty Berry, Don Mayhew, Donald Munro and Jody Murray contributed to this story. |
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