 |
 |
 |
|
Mysliwy gives bravura performance in ‘La Bete’Brian Mysliwy, on the other hand, becomes it. His performance in the Irish Classical Theatre Company’s season-opening production of “La Bete,” David Hirson’s quirky and breathless play about an acting troupe tossed into utter turmoil, is a pretty good argument for why the theater still matters. Mysliwy, whose performance in the Irish Classical’s “The Servant of Two Masters” in 2008 is still seared into the memories of local theatergoers, plays Valere, a self-besotted street clown, aspiring actor and blowhard to shame all blowhards. His part was clearly written for an actor to chew on and to luxuriate in, and Mysliwy is more than up the challenge. His performance of Valere’s sprawling opening monologue, which occupies the first half hour or so of the production, is an utterly captivating, tear-wrenchingly hilarious exhibition of unfettered buffoonery that makes Chris Farley look austere by comparison. Mysliwy’s Valere makes his grand entrance by spewing bits of food and liquid out of his mouth for a superhuman length of time while making grand pronouncements about his endless talent. As he goes on and on, delving ever deeper into a seemingly inexhaustible bag of tossed-off vulgarities and thinly veiled insults, the acting company leader Elomire (Vincent O’Neill) and actor Bejart (Gerry Maher) look on in horror, unable to get a word in edgewise. Valere, it turns out, has been granted access to Elomire’s company by a meddling princess (Josephine Hogan), who thinks he might add some needed spice to the company’s increasingly esoteric repertoire. Elomire isn’t having it, but as the play progresses and we are treated to Valere’s increasingly absurd performances, the rest of the company warms up to the previously insufferable interloper. While the play clearly belongs to Mysliwy — whose performance nearly obliterates concerns about its weaker second act — the rest of the cast holds its own. O’Neill plays the straight man well, where Maher milks his put-upon character for all it’s worth. Good turns come as well from Tim Newell, Kristen Tripp Kelley and others in Elomire’s company. Director Fortunato Pezzimenti, who was also behind the company’s brilliant “Servant of Two Masters,” keeps the play’s tricky rhythms perfectly in sync. During an improvised scene, which Mysliwy ad-libbed on opening night to wildly hilarious effect, Maher struggled to maintain his composure and finally couldn’t restrain his smile. To witness that little moment, of the same sort that happens during particularly ridiculous “Saturday Night Live” skits and despite its potential to become cloying, is to be in on the act of creating engaging theater. It’s what makes this show so completely engaging and what will always elevate the thrill of live theater above that of film or television. Behind all of Valere’s glorious posturing, his hilarious explication and improvised metatheater — all rendered in Hirson’s inspired and only occasionally reaching rhymed verse — “La Bete” does deal in its own serious way with a central and eternal problem of the theater. The conflict between Valere and Elomire is, in essence, the conflict all theater companies face in attempting both to enlighten and amuse. Too often, that choice is falsely represented as an either-or proposition, where high-minded material battles against populist schlock, and never the twain shall meet. “Who really cares about the bloated state of language and its ethical dimension and other themes too ponderous to mention, which tend to bore instead of entertain?” one company member muses after a performance of one of Valere’s plays. The Irish Classical’s production of “La Bete,” which matches up one bravura performance with some seriously juicy material, could never be accused of that. A TOP-SHELF "LA BETE" The cast of the Irish Classical Theatre Company production of La Bête at the Andrews Theatre take to the stage with so much confidence, they’re practically smug. The beauty of that is, they’re so damned good, they earn the self-congratulation! David Hirson’s play in rhyme tells the tale of Elomire, a 17th-century playwright reminiscent of Molière, and his wildly successful company. A crisis arises when their patron, the Princess Conti, decides she wants them to take on one more actor, a grotesquely vulgar and arrogant street performer named Valere. Under the precise and witty direction of Fortunato Pezzimenti, on an excellently elegant and economical set by Ron Schwartz, the antics unfold with dizzying energy, building momentum until the sublimely thought-provoking conclusion. The A-list cast includes Vincent O’Neill as Elomire, Gerry Maher as his loyal sidekick Bejart, and Brian Mysliwy in an unforgettable and magnificently wild, take-no-prisoners performance as disgusting Valere. Josephine Hogan is imperiously sublime as the ruthless and appropriately named princess. Jessica Wegrzyn is charming as monosyllabic Dorine. As the members of Elomire’s company, Jennifer Fitzery, Scott Malkovsky, Kay Keriman, Tim Newell, and the always lovely Kristen Tripp Kelley are unflaggingly perfect. The cleverness of Hirson’s script propels the action, and the talent of the cast floats it upward. La Bête is a theatrical treat. "La Bete” [The Beast] Blue. Later in the play Dorine entered, perched like a bird, and announced “Blue”. My companion Miss Dimeanor has been uttering the word “Blue” ever since she left the theater. She thinks it sums it all up, plus it was delivered with such elegance. Valere praises his own genius to excess and the burdens this has created, he stops to write down any sudden phrase or thought that strikes him as genius. In addition to being boastful, he is crude in many other respects, including being entertained by his own bodily functions. When he farts (loud and long), he laughs, and looks for a convenient place to shit, and decides on the trunk serving as a seat in front of the writing table. He lifts the lid, lowers his pants and underpants, seats himself inside and shits, before Elomire and Bejart can stop him. Plus the smell drives them both to the edge of the room and eventually temporarily out of the room. He talks while he shits, the noise of his shitting is loud and convincing and disgusting. I was fascinated by the reaction of a couple in the audience, sitting just beyond the chest in this theater in the round. The lady had a hand over her mouth in horror and protection, the gent was laughing. The theater action and sound effects were convincing to the lady, she was disgusted this was really happening in front of her. Kudos to Tom Makar, Sound Designer for such realistic sound projections, we won’t inquire further as to where and how he got them. I will just note that you don’t often see enthusiastic and naturalistic shitting in theater these days, particularly in a formal French 17th Century salon. Note the beautifully patterned black and white marble floor (Scenic Design by Ron Schwartz). When he was finished, Valere used the documents on the desk to wipe himself. He stood and continued his monologue, he continued to present his ideas and grand conclusions. His verbiage and verbobs entertained the audience immensely, they were laughing throughout, either at him or occasionally with him. Act II. Enter all. Dressed in a fine red dress, Princess Conti was played with serene confidence and quiet authority by Josephine Hogan. When she asked Valere to perform his story play using other players, he said it was impossible, he would not be able to, he would need six months to consider the adaption. She said she was sorry he couldn’t help the troupe, he was free to move along to his other concerns. He very quickly reconsidered, bowed, and said he would start it in three minutes. Then the whole company was assigned parts and moved into play, which they did very creatively, while Princess Conti and Elomire watched in judgement. Then discussion of its worth, opinion divided, Princess Conti made her decision, all others made their decisions, Exeunt all. Then the bows, each player entering and taking one, until finally Vincent O’Neill takes his bow as Elomire. He stands aside and hails with outstretched arm the last to bow, Brian Mysliwy as Valere. By now the whole audience is on its feet in fine appreciation of the amazing play, the fine cast, and the amazing performance by Brian Mysliwy. This magnificent play by David Hirson received major awards when it first appeared in 1992. It has been directed here by Fortunato Pezzimenti, for which we are very grateful. I expect many awards coming to Mysliwy and Pezzimenti for this great presentation of a Great Comedy! See it quickly before the run ends, and hope it is staged again elsewhere so you can see it again! If you are not in Drama 305, don’t bother with these numbered items, you can laugh with the play without knowing any of this. Drama 305 here are your questions, discuss one of these at length with your group and summarize: 1. What are the different schools of presentation of ideas in the theater represented by Elomire and Valere? Justify each. 2. It is difficult to sustain a long monologue on stage with other characters listening. Discuss how this monologue was sustained, the changes in tempos, subjects, volume, distance, etc. 3. Was Valere acting a part throughout his monologue, or was that the real Valere? Why? What did Elomire think and why? Where do we see Valere’s sincerity? 4. What famous plays are referenced in the play within the play? What does it mean in context? 5. What did Dorine (played by the beautiful Jessica Wegrzyn) represent? What did her actions at the end tell you? 6. Discuss the English the play uses. Why is it so accessible yet believable as 17th Century? Some scarce words are used, to what purpose? Can you rhyme anything let alone a whole play, while making it easy to understand? If you are not in Drama 305, aren’t you glad you don’t have to answer these? Practice this memorable line, usable at every dinner table, “Are you not the fool that you decry?” Memorable line usable for sudden exclamation: “Blue!” And in Buffalo, it will sling you a beer! REVIEW, "LA BETE" Mysliwy’s performance as “LaBete,” the definitive bad actor, blends inspiration, perspiration, memorization, evacuation and, as he said from his ordinary sedan after Saturday’s Irish Classical Theatre matinee, “just plain fun.” Through 1996, Mysliwy split sides on Monteagle Ridge, notably in “The Foreigner.” This takes it to another level, one breathless rant encompassing almost an entire act, including what may be a Buffalo theatrical first, mistaking an ottoman for a commode. We’re in Robin Williams territory here, but whereas Williams sucks all the oxygen out of a square block, Mysliwy adds to it. When Vincent O’Neill, as the frustrated producer says “I hate to interrupt” and Mysliwy replies, “I know the feeling,” their work is mutually enhancing. In “LaBete,” a modern farce in the 17th-century style of Moliere, a royal patron forces this execrable expectorant on an established troupe run by O’Neill and deformed aide Jerry Maher. Mysliwy’s insults to Maher are vile, but he’s cluelessly ignorant, and thus marginally sympathetic. Who can’t identify with a know-it-all who expounds: “We never forget the names of brilliant men like…uh, what’s-his-name.” Many in shorter roles reflect Mysliwy’s brilliance, notably Jennifer Fitzery, bobbing about like a grey pawn of an actress. Although playwright David Hirson succumbs to the temptation to take himself seriously in the second act and “LaBete” (“The Beast”) loses its bite, Saturday’s throng departed declaring they had never laughed so hard in their lives. They hadn’t forgotten what’s-his-name. “LaBete” roars through Oct. 2. Doug Smith has reviewed Niagara Frontier theater since 1969. |
|
625 Main Street Buffalo, NY 14203 | Box Office - (716) 853-ICTC | Administration - (716) 853-1380 Tell A Friend | Newsletter | Site Map |