Theater Review

Almost noir with 'Blue'

By Keisha Thomas
Staff Writer

     Somewhere in the corner of Culver City, there is a dark and shadowy street, lined with equally grim buildings resembling factories and warehouses. For those who dare to venture into this dusky setting, there lies a light at the end of the tunnel -- the performance space of the Evidence Room.
     The Evidence Room, a theater company born just four years ago, purports that its aim is to produce "aggressive, imaginative, unpredictable events" for a "younger, more engaged audience." A production entitled "Almost Blue" is its most recent event, and while it doesn't fully embody the company's goal, it comes gloriously close.
     The story revolves around Phil (Christian Leffler), a jaded and despondent resident of a room in a dilapidated apartment building. Fresh from a term at the local jail, he's revealed to be the ultimate antihero -- pathetic at best, utterly contemptible at worst. The only thing breaking up the monotony of his daily existence is his friend from the room below, Blue (Tom Fitzpatrick).
     However, Phil's life becomes unexpectedly complicated when the ex-wife of one of his former inmate friends appears on his doorstep. Liz (Laura D'Arista) brings news of her husband Steve's recent death. However, along with this update, she also brings with her a wealth of problems for the antisocial recluse.
     The situation heats up all the more when a quite alive Steve (Tim Streeter) shows up later. It isn't long before the four find themselves embroiled in a web of murder, betrayal and alternating flashes of honesty and deceit.
     "Almost Blue" is an absorbing experiment in theater noir. Spectators may be more familiar with the art of film noir. Literally "black film," film noir is a style of film often characterized by dark, hazy settings and cynical, disillusioned characters. The principles are the same for theater noir; only the medium differs. The company captures the essence of noir beautifully in its use of austere lighting and set design. The characters move through the space almost like shadows, the bleak darkness of their personalities blending in with the backdrop.
     The characters even make references to film noir within their conversations. Blue tells Phil about how his dreams resemble Fritz Lang films with their "shadows and shiny streets." The characters of Phil and Liz actually mirror conventional figures in film noir -- he, the estranged loner, imprisoned by a self-imposed isolation from the rest of the world; she, the dangerous femme fatale who threatens his familiar solitude.
     However, this is where the play runs into a few problems. In attempting to echo filmic conventions, the production sometimes collapses into standardized clichs. For instance, Liz enters with a sultry gait, her voice resounding with that gravel-dipped-in-honey edge made famous by the likes of Barbara Stanwyck and Lauren Bacall in the 1940s. The character of Steve likewise proves a slightly updated version of the archetypal jailbird of classical Hollywood cinema. Blue is perhaps the closest thing to an original character type the production has to offer. An older man colored by nuances of homosexuality, he possesses an intimate affection for Phil. Is it a fatherly love...or something more? He clings to Phil, even when the standoffish young man tries to cast him off.
     "I'm your friend and you're my friend," he tells Phil. It seems more of a plea than a statement of fact. Fitzpatrick fills out the character of Blue nicely as he breathes life into a persona not so closely associated to past stereotypes.
     This isn't to say that the other actors do their characters any disservice. Quite the contrary, each infuses their personality with a violent energy all their own. However, the entire production is simply too dependent on filmic proprieties -- to the point where it appears they've tried to put a short film on the stage. But, film is film and theater is theater. While the two have blended on occasion in the history of the arts (see Mankiewicz's "All About Eve" or Hitchcock's "Rope") without the apt skill of a fine director, a film on stage is little better than a filmed play.
     The performances are emotionally charged, the surroundings appropriate. However, a bit of the theatricality of the production has been lost to the influence of film, which turns out to be the play's biggest detriment. In a note contained within the play's program, director Bart DeLorenzo notes that "Almost Blue" is "more closely linked to the pitch-black novels of Jim Thompson and James Cain...."
     However, what DeLorenzo fails to note is that he is not working in the medium of literature (or film, for that matter); he's operating in theater. Instead of drawing on a plethora of stock film characters, he should push himself and his actors to create fresh theatrical representations within the familiar artistic context of noir. With a renewed realization of his medium, DeLorenzo could easily transform "Almost Blue" into good theater with cinematic elements rather than passable theater trying to be film. B-



"Almost Blue" plays Thursdays through Sundays until Oct. 26 at the Evidence Room in Culver City. Tickets are $12 with a student ID, and $15 without. For more information, call (310) 841-2799.


Copyright 1997 by the Daily Trojan. All rights reserved.
This article was published in Vol. 132, No. 25 (Friday, October 3, 1997), on page 19.