LaBute New Theater Festival 2019

C+

This year’s edition of the festival, once again presented by St. Louis Actors’ Studio, differs from previous years in that all the plays —a  two-hander sandwiched by two monologues — are premieres by LaBute himself. In the first play, “The Fourth Reich,” Karl (Eric Dean White), a mild-mannered middle-aged man laments that Hitler gets a bad rap because some of his mistakes have been allowed to erase his accomplishments. His prized possession is a watercolor by Hitler in which he sees the promise of a bright future. If LaBute intended to provoke, his circumspect treatment has undermined that intent. In a sense, Karl’s polite demeanor and failure to raise his voice makes his words more chilling, but it doesn’t make for lively theater. In the second play, “Great Negro Works of Art,” we meet Jerri (Brenda Meaney; Indian Ink, Incognito) a thirty-something white woman, and Tom (Keilyn Durrel Jones; SummerShorts), a light-skinned black man, in a museum on their first date after connecting on an online dating site. Their attempts at light banter repeatedly trip over political correctness and racial sensitivities, revealing that LaBute’s knack for dialogue that is both amusing and revealing is still intact. The final and, in my opinion, least successful work is “Unlikely Japan.” While half-watching the news, Katie (Gia Crovatin; The Money Shot) learns that an old boyfriend was one of the victims of the Las Vegas mass shooting. Rather than feeling sad, she feels bad and that makes her sad. Got that? She relates the story of their high-school romance including the really cruel way she ended it and wonders whether a change in her behavior then might have produced a different outcome now. There did not seem to be a clear point to the story. As is often the case with LaBute, the women do not come off well; one is a bit dim and the other lacks compassion. I don’t see how it unites the plays, but a quotation from John — “the truth shall make you free” — is used in each. In all three plays, LaBute seems to be holding back and showing a muted, less confrontational side. The actors in all three plays were first-rate. The first two plays were directed by frequent collaborator John Pierson and the third, by the playwright. The bare-bones set is by Patrick Huber and the costumes, by Megan Harshaw. Before the play, I had a conversation with LaBute, who was most accessible and congenial. I learned from him that the Davenport Theater will close after this production. Running time: 85 minutes, no intermission.

NOTE: The first play had a particular resonance for me. At the Ufffizi Gallery, I once wandered into an exhibit of attractive watercolors. Apparently, i had inadvertently entered through the exit, so it was not until I reached the far end of the gallery that I discovered that the watercolors were by Hitler. It was an upsetting moment that raised the difficult question of whether we can or should distinguish between a creation and its creator.

The Money Shot **

The poster for Neil LaBute’s new comedy, now in previews at MCC Theater, is doubly misleading: the four actors do not end up in bed together and Fred Weller does not have hair on his chest. The play raises the question of whether the world really needs another satirical look at the denizens of Hollywood. They are both too easy and too frequent a target, unless the playwright has some new insight to share. That is not the case here. Steve (Weller) is an obtuse 50-ish action film hero whose fight against Father Time has led him to marry Missy (Gia Crovatin), an ex-cheerleader and would-be actress less than half his age. Since Karen (Elizabeth Reaser) came out as a lesbian, her movie career has been on the skids, despite her attempts to pump it up with a cookbook, website, charitable activities and marketing ploys. Her lover Bev (Callie Thorne) is a film editor with a pugnacious personality, to put it mildly. Steve and Karen are currently filming a movie that they hope will revive their careers. The European director has suggested that they liven up an upcoming bedroom scene by actually having sex. The four are gathered at Karen’s luxurious home in the Hollywood hills the night before filming, allegedly to negotiate with their loved ones how far they are allowed to go in the shoot. However, it is more than an hour into the play before they finally get around to the matter at hand. The first hour is devoted to a series of arguments over such weighty questions as whether David Crosby is Bing’s son and whether Belgium is really part of Europe. By the time they get around to arguing over where tongues may or may not be placed during the shoot, we have realized that LaBute’s own tongue is planted firmly in his cheek. There are many amusing lines, but it all adds up to absolutely nothing. The actors give it their all. Weller, who was billed as Frederick in Mothers and Sons is listed here as Fred; I wish he had also shed the pinched voice that was so annoying in McNally’s play. Derek McLane’s set is lovely, Sarah J. Holden’s costumes are just right and Terry Kinney’s direction is fluid. Too bad they didn’t have something more substantive to work on. Running time: 1 hour 40 minutes; no intermission.