The Cabaret: Rock the Boat 2008
Written by Buddy Mackinder
Directed by Jeremy Aluma
Written by Buddy Mackinder
Directed by Jeremy Aluma
"The Cabaret: Rock the Boat 2008"
The Alive Theatre, Duke's Riverboat, Rainbow Harbor, Long Beach,
By James Scarborough
GRUNION GAZETTE
The Alive Theatre, Duke's Riverboat, Rainbow Harbor, Long Beach,
By James Scarborough
GRUNION GAZETTE
The Cabaret: Rock the Boat 2008, written by Buddy Mackinder and directed by Jeremy Aluma for The Alive Theatre aboard Duke's Riverboat in Rainbow Harbor, is upbeat and exuberant, self-conscious and hilarious. It draws you in with the boldness of its conception, its sexiness, and its swagger, all of which complement the intimate setting (the classy red velvet decor, the dance floor, the views out the window) and the performance (singing accompanied by a live band, comic skits, pantomime, and a keen predilection for sinuous movement. Aluma wants to rescue (he does, gloriously) and then resuscitate (ditto) the vaunted variety show format from such clones-gone-wrong as reality shows. Nothing's sacred here. Story lines are brief, brash, and risqué. They are off beat and off the wall, and seem to emerge out of nowhere. One recounts the woes of a shunned surfer girl who has the hots for married surfer dude Phil Mycrevice (Nice National Lampoon name). Another, hosted by Sabir al-Seacrest, presents an Iraqi reality show that confirms the idolatry (or is it iconoclasm?) of American Idol. A janitor who should know belts out "People Are Strange." In an outrageous restroom scene involving two guys named, of course, Dick and Peter, one of the guys has to fend off the other's constant babble: "I drank a lot of beer;" "How long is yours?" "Have you read The Secret?" There's a Female Superpower Super Club with an Asian superheroine who pretends she knows karate. And there's a hilarious rendition of "Monkey in the Basement" sung to a Tracy Chapman tune.
The show is perfect for those with short attention spans, for those who like to sample all forms of entertainment, who want/need to escape their daily grinds by attending a production the likes of which both Mark Twain and Hunter S. Thompson would have applauded. The acting percolates. It's elastic; it stretches to the just-so point of superciliousness and then snaps back. It's not silly, it's funny. And underneath all the frivolity there's a clarion call for fun. With all the crud in the world, the show goads us to cut loose, laugh, and enjoy ourselves. That's why a rousing rendition of "Help" frames the production. At the beginning it encourages us to drop the long face and get into the swing of things. At the end it's an exhortation to spread the gospel: laugh at the world, laugh at yourself, but, for God's sake, laugh. This charismatic company continues to mature. Venue-less like Wandering Dutchmen (adrift, metaphorically and, aboard here, literally) they're branding themselves as a must-see experience of what live theatre in a cabaret setting can do: entertain you in umpteen iterations as they continue to reinvent themselves in new, startling, and delightful ways.
