Top-notch writing and likeable acting make Lobby Hero one of the most satisfying comedies to appear in the Bay area since Woman In Mind last June. Kenneth Lonergan's play (in a Stageworks production) is about two security guards and two cops and the convoluted moral problems they face over two days. Since all the characters are fascinating, and Lonergan's a prodigiously talented wordsmith (see also This is Our Youth), the drama grabs your attention and just gets better and better.
And there's one performance — Steve Du Mouchel's as the policeman Bill — that's so spectacularly good that it'll renew your faith in the live stage. I can easily imagine a better production of Hero — those other three actors could all be more persuasive — but I had such a good time, laughed so loud, felt such suspense, I'm not about to complain. If you want a good time, make a point of seeing this show.
The story goes like this: There's a security guard named Jeff, a loose-tongued loser, and he's infatuated with rookie policewoman Dawn. But Dawn has unwisely entered into a sexual relationship with her married supercop partner Bill, not knowing that Bill is carrying on yet a third liaison with a call girl. Meanwhile, Jeff's boss is in a quandary because his just-arrested brother wants him to mendaciously provide him an alibi.
In the midst of these complications, Jeff is tempted to speak the truth: to tell Dawn that she's being cheated on, to tell the police that his boss may be perjuring himself. But the truth, if it comes out, would wreck Dawn and Bill's relationship and possibly send an innocent man to prison. Problem is, Jeff's a bigmouth. And he wants Dawn. And he wants to be a good guy.
Even with a less talented cast, the play would be worth a theater lover's attention. But director Richard Coppinger has chosen three actors who turn in good, solid work and one who's just stunning. That one is Du Mouchel, whose Bill-the-Policeman is about as memorable as a portrayal gets, whether in Lonergan or O'Neill.
Du Mouchel's Bill is ultra-macho, ultra-slick, more or less committed to a moral life (except where sex is concerned) and not a bit unconscious of the impression that he makes on a grateful, adoring public. It would be tough for any actor to look good next to Du Mouchel, but each of his three colleagues gives us something to like and much to laugh about. Curtis Belz as hapless Jeff is a sad sack of a security guard, someone who convinces us with ease that he was kicked out of the Navy. As his usually upright boss, Joshua Goff starts slow but ends strong, helping us feel what a trial it is to have his moral code under pressure. And Cael Barkman as policewoman Dawn is especially impressive when her anger and hurt break through her mask of professionalism — and threaten her job.
R.T. Williams' set of a Manhattan apartment house lobby is appropriately bland, and Amy Cianci's costumes, for the security guards and police, are impeccable.
So check this out if you can. It's intelligent, very funny and surprisingly suspenseful. And it features Du Mouchel, offering one of the best performances in months. Which should be endorsement enough.
Heart to Heart. Rag and Bone is such a charming play that you can almost forget the limited range of its ideas. And the Gorilla Theatre production is so smooth and professional, you can almost believe that you're witnessing an important event. But clever dialogue and capable acting can't finally mask the fact that Noah Haidle's light comedy has almost nothing to tell us.
Yes, it's fun to see a dour businessman transformed into a sensitive poet, and yes, director Ami Sallee Corley has made one short scene follow another with cinematic fluidity. But we go to the theater wanting to think and feel deeply, and Rag and Bone (even with its sexually explicit language) comes across ultimately as a cartoon. It's amusing and colorful and eminently insignificant.
The premise of the play is that a ladder shop run by brothers George and Jeff is actually a black-market human heart emporium to which people come in order to change their personalities. A self-doubting woman tries on the heart of a righteous public defender, and that businessman, exasperated by his self-centered life, pays to become a visionary poet.
Meanwhile, the poet, whose heart was stolen during a mugging, wanders the streets of the city trying to regain his fineness of consciousness, and winds up with a hooker whose heart is so golden that it's not for sale. That's pretty much the whole play, though there's one more crucial transplant that sets matters on their heads, and there are several mildly funny exchanges involving a pimp named T-Bone. It all takes place on Gregory Paul Milton's not very interesting ladder-shop set, and it moves from scene to short scene with a pleasant swiftness.
At least the acting is gratifying. Best of all are Mike Buck and Christopher Rutherford as brothers Jeff and George, whose love and concern for each other shine through every crisis. Also superb is Nicole Paris Williams as the unnamed hooker: She's so effervescently devoted to her work that she can't even give it up once she's become rich.
Lothar Bergeest as the numb businessman might have stepped out of a Doonesbury strip, and Charles W. Wilcox as T-Bone makes pimping, violence and blackmail look no more wicked than milk and cookies. Finally, Kevin Whalin offers one of his best performances ever as the poet whose heart has been stolen: He really does seem to have lost his emotional range. Shrewdly costumed by Jennifer Cunningham, these actors are always fun to watch, even when we've given up hope that their behavior will add up to much.
But there's no point blaming an ice cream cone for not being a steak. Rag and Bone may lack nutritional value, but it's whimsical and fast-moving and refreshingly surreal. It's nice to think that one might climb a ladder to the moon. Isn't that what escapism means?
See it when the last thing you want is to get serious.
This article appears in Sep 12-18, 2007.