Sunday, April 13, 2008
A+E, Theater, Reviews
The naked truth
Show-biz satire tries to have it both ways
CREDIT: MJ Conboy
Chad Martin and Ben Reed in “The Little Dog Laughed”
“THE LITTLE DOG LAUGHED”
Theatre in the Square
$8-$20
770-422-8369
www.theatreinthesquare.com
Through April 27
By Bert Osborne
OK, so I’m seated at Theatre in the Square’s Alley Stage, and as soon as the lights come up on “The Little Dog Laughed,” I realize I’m in trouble. Turns out there’s a large, tall guy sitting in front of me, over and around whose head and shoulders I won’t be able to see a small but pivotal area of center stage. No doubt, when we get to the much-publicized moment in which the closeted Hollywood hunk and his obliging “rent boy” strip down and assume their positions on a hotel bed, I’ll just be glad that I’m a trained theater professional who can use his own imagination.
Under no circumstances should actors Chad Martin and Ben Reed, who bravely perform the sequence in director Alan Kilpatrick’s production, take it the wrong way to read that the nudity isn’t a very big deal. (Besides, it’s not as though I didn’t catch Kilpatrick’s locker-room drama “Take Me Out” a few years ago – and with Actor’s Express’ “Octopus” only a few months past, I’ve probably seen enough nude men and simulated gay sex to hold me a while, thanks.)
My point is this: If I don’t really need to see everything that’s going on in the scene to know what’s going on, it makes me wonder why the nudity is necessary at all (as written by Douglas Carter Beane), or whether it’s simply gratuitous. When ads and press releases for a show contain an advisory about sexual content or nudity, is that supposed to caution audiences or entice them? In this case, specifically, is “The Little Dog Laughed” the uncompromising show-biz comedy it claims to be, or is Beane merely capitalizing on the same base instincts he’s satirizing?
That’s not always clear from the cast, many of whom opt for a “soft involvement” with their roles, as his agent might describe the movie star’s level of commitment to a future project. Martin (so wonderful in the recent “Great Expectations”) sensitively portrays Mitchell’s conflicted sexuality, for instance, and yet he rarely convinces as a self-absorbed, career-obsessed celebrity. Similarly, as the hustling Alex, Reed lacks an adequate “rough trade” quality early on, although he develops his character’s gradual feelings for Mitchell with genuine warmth. And Kelly Criss plays Alex’s girlfriend as overly cute and kooky, when she ought to seem more cunning and calculated for someone who’s later commended for her “edge.”
All of which puts the pressure for validating Beane’s caustic ambitions squarely on the shoulders of the irrepressible LaLa Cochran, who nearly pulls it off with her no-holds-barred performance as Diane, the acerbic agent and power broker—nearly, because, like her co-stars, Cochran also comes across at times as too likable for the good (that is, the “bad”) of her role. (To be honest, I’m not sure how much of that is her doing and how much is my own. Maybe what’s likable isn’t the character, but rather watching the actress sink her teeth into it.)
A savvy professional deal-maker and personal problem-solver, Diane offers a brutal running commentary about fame and the movie industry. Pushing her client to take the gay lead in a high-profile film, she sells it to him as a “noble stretch” for any straight actor but as so much “bragging” for any gay actor—and proceeds to manufacture Mitchell’s public image accordingly.
That Cochran does sell it so funnily and forcefully is a mixed blessing. By the time Diane’s project makes it through the studio assembly line, the script has “toned down the gay boys” to play up a secondary woman in the story. Beane obviously intends that as a sign of another phony Hollywood sellout, but what does it mean when his own comedy essentially does the same thing? As it happens, fittingly enough, whether or not the boys get naked is purely incidental. SP