By Chris Joseph
By Michael E. Miller
By Kyle Swenson
By David Villano
By Kyle Swenson
By John Thomason
By Michele Eve
After a stop at the Papermill Playhouse in New Jersey, the state that invented schlock, this production is reportedly aiming for a Broadway run. It may please the bridge-and-tunnel crowd, but I cringe when I think what will happen when Manhattanites get out their knives. Better to swim with the fishes.
Schlock out, schlock in. While Romeo & Bernadette strives to make it to New York, New York has retaliated by dumping schlock of its own in our neighborhood. One such delivery is on view at GableStage, which is presenting Dirty Blonde, a wholly forgettable exercise in competent but pointless stagecraft.
Dirty Blond written by Claudia Shear; directed by Joseph Adler. With Ian Hersey, David Kwiat, and Margot Moreland. Presented through February 2 by GableStage at the Biltmore, 1200 Anastasia Ave., Coral Gables, 305-445-1119.
The show, a long-running New York hit, was created by actress/writer Claudia Shear largely as a vehicle for her to portray the legendary Mae West. The play features Mae's career, sorta, while also following the off-beat romance of two of her modern-day fans. Mae's history is presented in straight-ahead factoid scenes -- her life in vaudeville, her involvement with several men, her problems with the censors, her shaping of her Sex Queen stage image. Amid this history parade is the tale of Charlie, a reclusive film archivist, a raving West fan who travels to Mae's grave on her birthday. There he encounters another Mae fan, Jo, a chunky, insecure wannabe actress. The awkward pair certainly connect in their fascination with West and click, kinda, romantically.
Jo is fascinated that Charlie actually met the aged Mae in her Hollywood home. Charlie even has one of Mae's gowns, which he urges Jo to don for a costume ball. But then Jo discovers that Charlie likes to wear Mae's gown himself. Will Jo go to the ball with Charlie, both dressed as Mae West? So goes the big dramatic question in Dirty Blonde and that, my friends, is about as fine an example of schlock as you are ever gonna get.
There is some real dramatic potential to the history of Mae West. She certainly created a unique persona, and her frank sexuality anticipated the modern era by many decades. But this show reveals nothing about West; it just shows her cracking smart one-liners and rolling her eyes at her own innuendoes. What really motivated this driven, lonely woman and who she really was are issues left completely unexplored.
As for the Charlie/Jo plot, I suppose a story about two gown-wearing celebrity-worshiping fetishists in love has an appeal to some but, as Miles Davis might say and did: So what? The play tries to drum up some moral lessons about bravely going where your heart leads you -- you can almost hear another Davis, Sammy, bleating out I Gotta Be Me (or maybe I Gotta Be Mae) -- but surely there's a better story to be told than this.
If this stuff has to be produced, at least it's being done competently. Joe Adler's production is quick-paced, sleek, and good-looking. Rich Simone's minimalist set, a series of quick sliding curtains and panels, is a big asset here. The trio of actors has a field day playing several roles. Margot Moreland slips back and forth between playing Jo and Mae with ease. She's especially good as the old Mae, hobbling around in a bad wig and a cloud of memories. Ian Hersey is solid as Charlie and a few other roles. But the real scene-stealer is David Kwiat, who plays Mae's ex-boxer confidant, a supercilious English director, and a flurry of other characters. Kwiat seems to pop up in every other area production -- from an embittered Yiddish actor in Smithereens to a string of wackos in Comic Potential to a haunted Irish drinker in The Weir. Every one of those characters is memorable. Sadly, not so with Dirty Blonde.