The Coronet "Maybe Baby, It’s You" explores love through
improvisation.
“Maybe Baby, It’s You” Upstairs at the
Coronet Theatre Runs indefinitely
The new Los Angeles production of “Maybe Baby, It’s
You” brings up some of life’s more important questions.
After all, the show received positive reviews in its native New
York and managed to secure two successful runs off-Broadway. God
only knows why.
“Maybe Baby” finds improv masters Charlie Shanian
and Shari Simpson showcasing both their acting and writing
abilities through portrayals of 11 different couples on the verge
of falling in love. The show may seem innocuous at first, but the
material is unmistakably tainted by excess fluff. Its fatal flaw is
an utter lack of originality, which is unforgivable in light of the
universal nature of its subject matter. As illustrated by the
man-on-the-street recordings interspersed throughout the show,
everybody has something to say about falling in love. So if a show
expects money for insight, it had better be saying something
brilliant.
At the top of the show, Shanian and Simpson are perched at the
edge of the stage, focused on some vague, imaginary entity beyond
the audience. Each is apparently unaware of the other. They begin
reciting specific qualities that they’re looking for in a
mate, and as they realize that they probably won’t find
anyone who meets their high standards, their speeches crescendo
with compounding nervousness. Unfortunately, the show is never any
less straightforward, and the pair never really establishes any
deeper connection with the audience or with each other.
The show suffers from some structural problems, as well. Certain
scenes collapse under the weight of unnecessarily complicated
dialogue; Simpson’s portrayal of a caustic, nerdy schoolgirl
is lost in a mess of elaborate insults, an insufficient substitute
for true characterization. Shanian’s recurring dancing brain
surgeon lacks the physical discipline needed to temper such a
spastic performance.
Of course, “Maybe Baby” does have its moments. The
portrayal of an elderly couple who recently divorced is
particularly touching, probably because it ventures away from the
surprisingly limited theme of looking for a mate, instead offering
a more rounded portrait of two individuals in love. The details
give Shanian and Simpson a little more to work with, which in turn
give the audience a great deal more to watch.
The Upstairs at the Coronet venue could be intimate and ideal if
any real connection were established; as it is, it just comes off
small. It would feel just like the rec room of some neighborhood
church if it weren’t for the devil-red glow of neon signs
promoting that other kind of love at a strip club across the
street.
Ultimately, “Maybe Baby” is a show that only a
mother could love.
Kelly Haigh  Geffen Playhouse "Do Jump!"
transforms normal tasks into off-the-wall behavior.
Do Jump! Geffen Playhouse Runs through Dec.
16
“Do Jump!” is absurdity personified.
Touring from their home in Oregon, the acting, dancing,
acrobatic troupe of performers confuses audiences with their
outlandish stunts and routines.
Whether swinging across the stage on trapezes, cartwheeling off
of dinner tables or simply carousing in dollies, the cast of
“Do Jump!” is constantly taking seemingly normal
actions (meeting for dinner or moving heavy boxes) and transforming
the tasks into wildly off the wall behavior.
With skits involving troupe members floating above the small
playhouse audience, twirling in graceful arches and whirls,
“Do Jump!” breaks the invisible wall that usually
leaves a performance solely on stage and an audience feeling
voyeuristic.
Similarly, because “Do Jump!” often relies on
audience participation ““ creating perhaps one of the best
modern dance performances ever ““ the show links the absurdity
it displays on stage with the absurdity that happens in the
everyday world.
As fun as the show is, it is not without its problems. The music
““ a mix between jazz, klezmer and world music ““ though
appropriate for some segments of the show, is often a little too
ridiculous. Instead of aiding the show’s ambiance, the odd
racket becomes a distraction.
Also, some of the interesting segments get way too drawn out.
Note to “Do Jump!”: audiences can only stand watching
people spin in circles for so long.
Besides these minor problems, and the fact that the guy that
flies a kite in the theater floats the object just a little too
close to the audience, “Do Jump!” is some wholehearted
fun.
Sure, none of the show makes sense ““ when was the last
time an audience was tuned to the key of F to sing along with
dancing letters? ““ but then again the world beyond the
playhouse is equally full of craziness.
In an epoch of uncertainty and nationalist grief, “Do
Jump!” is an excellent escape from seriousness and an
entertaining entrance into a world of nonsense.
Antero Garcia  The Coronet "Late Nite
Catechism" features Maripat Donovan as Sister.
“Late Nite Catechism” Upstairs at the
Coronet Theatre Runs indefinitely
Lumbering across the stage in sensible shoes, the Sister held
out one hand for a student’s tissue-wrapped gum and the other
for a student’s $1 tardiness fee. Meanwhile, the audience sat
up and quickly stopped their whispering.
Structured like an after-hours review of religious doctrine,
“Late Nite Catechism” is a lesson in improvisation. The
authoritarian Sister, played by Maripat Donovan, drills the
audience like they are bad Catholics on the “Weakest
Link,” and her quick wit and droll ribbing of these
“students” makes the play authentically funny.
Upstairs at the Coronet has been transformed from a small
theater into the quintessential Sunday school room for the play.
Child-drawn Virgin Marys plaster one wall and a wealth of prizes
for correct answers ““ laminated saint cards (“laminated
so you can cry all over them”), glow-in-the-dark rosaries and
crucifix key chains with a small hidden knife (“never run
with your crucifix open”) ““ lay, tantalizing, on the
Sister’s desk.
Donovan has been performing “Late Nite Catechism”
all over the world for over nine years and has raised money for
various orders of nuns with those productions. Her philanthropy
extends to her audiences. After an initial period of, “Did
she really just take that woman’s water?” apprehension,
her character quickly becomes likable and informative.
Beginning with a discussion and definition of the terms
“immaculate conception,” “stigmata” and
“pagan babies” she moves on to St. Veronica’s
eating of cat vomit, St. Simon Stylites’ pole sitting and St.
Patrick’s clover fascination. Her Chi-Town accent adds a
comic edge to her lecturing, but her realistic authority convinces
audience members to address her with a polite, “Yes
Sister.”
And through it all, she cracks jokes that are, for the most
part, laugh-out-loud funny. “Nuns are like gangs,” she
says, “we wear the same clothes and do the same things. You
don’t want to find yourself in an alley with a Mercenary Nun
… “˜Mercenary’ is a real misnomer.”
As the Sister leaves the stage at the end of the performance,
the audience is left laughing at memories of nun-induced,
ruler-to-knuckle whacking, even if they didn’t go to Catholic
school.
A working knowledge of Catholic lingo and tradition makes the
play more humorous in its relatability, but anyone will be amused
by the general tone of the event. Though audience participation is
key, it isn’t requisite for all performance goers and the
Sister never crosses the line between funny-interactive and awkward
… just don’t chew gum or forget to turn off your cell
phone.
Kelsey McConnell