If Los Angeles truly is the intersection where fantasy meets reality, then Feeding the Monkey in Hollywood, a new play from writer/actor Theresa Burkhart, is an out-of-control 1984 white Cabriolet convertible that comes careening through the red light, sideswipes two cars, nearly rolls over as it skids on two wheels, and then just barely misses a pedestrian couple walking their Akita as it barrels through the crosswalk and into the horizon as quickly as it came. It’s the kind of thing that, once the smoke has settled, makes you ask yourself if you really saw it or just imagined it. But in Burkhart’s vision of L.A., who really knows? And who cares, so long as you have a B.F.F., a bottle of Stoli, and a blindingly efficient coke dealer who answers to “the guy?”
Any good farce must be rooted in reality, and Feeding the Monkey in Hollywood’s setting and characters will be all-too-real to anyone who’s lived here for a while – four single non-working actors living off Fountain in cozy but comfortable apartments adorned with retro film posters. The girls, Sunny (Theresa Burkhart) and Lola (Alex Dawson) thumb through US Weekly and order booze from Pink Dot, while the guys, Matt (Matt Gallagher) and Brian (Jeff Rubino) “research hydroponics” and strive to build the perfect bong out of duct tape, PVC pipe and a Styrofoam ice chest. It’s a gorgeous day outside, so we’re told, but our protagonists hardly seem to notice – Matt is repulsed by the mere suggestion of any activity that might require him to shower afterward, while Sunny and Lola are compelled to manufacture a sick day in order to justify popping in a DVD before sundown. But it’s when our anti-heroes all get into the same apartment (by means of a narrative leap far too vast to outline here) and the conversation starts to flow as freely as the cocaine and Wild Turkey that the hijinks really ensue.
The inane series of interactions that follow are deliberately exaggerated for comic effect, but the best jokes are at least partly true – and as each character is awarded an opportunity to pontificate nonsensically on their own quirky observations the audience is treated to a variety of comic performances. Asking actors to play actors is a bit like asking Eminem to play a poor white rapper from Detroit, but within the context of this piece the gloves are off anyway, so they might as well have a little fun. Particularly strong is Gallagher, who plays Matt with all the mopey charisma of a pothead buddy, and Burkhart, who displays a tireless energy as the irrepressible Sunny. These characters are actors, too, remember, and there are moments when the distinction disappears almost entirely, such as when Brian bursts into a spirited Blanche Dubois monologue or when Sunny and Lola suddenly morph into Rosencrans and Guildenstern.
The intentionally ridiculous material of Feeding the Monkey in Hollywood doesn’t allow the actors to show any real range of emotion, and one can argue that there isn’t a single dramatic moment in the entire 55 minutes – but this isn’t Hamlet, or A Streetcar Named Desire, or Rent. This is Hollywood, baby. Buckle up.
“Feeding the Monkey in Hollywood” will play February 2nd – 25th at Gardner Stages, 1501 N. Gardner St., Los Angeles, with performances Fridays and Saturdays at 8:00 p.m., and Sundays at 7:00 p.m. Tickets are $15 for adults, $10 for students and seniors.
For reservations, call 323-960-1053 or go online at: www.plays411.com/monkey
