LA WEEKLY
*RECOMMENDED
Sexy cyberpunkettes, a Philip Marlowe–ish
narrator and lots of cool technojunk are the real draw of Steve Pickering and Charley
Sherman’s adaptation of William Gibson’s sci-fi short story, set in "the
Sprawl." It seems a place not much different from lowlife L.A., really, but with a
better soundtrack (by J Warner), imaginative futuristic costumes (Mary Hayes) and a
killer lighting design (by Aaron Francis, lighting software by Norman Gilmore).
"There are a million naked stories in the Sprawl," the narrator (Patrick Towne)
says as he squints through cigarette smoke, thus setting the tone for director Scott
Rabinowitz’s comic-bookish rendering of one of the oldest naked stories in the world:
two guys involved with the same girl. Rikki (Piper Henry) seems to have popped in from
cyber-Hee-Haw; still, her too-big character matches the proceedings, which focus on
computer-"cowboy" partners — daring, handsome Bobby (David Holcomb) and a
love-struck sad sack named Automatic Jack (Adam Bitterman) — as they try to outsmart
the underworld’s evil Chrome. But mostly this is a romance tricked out with terrific
gadgets (props by Stan Freitag and Darrin W. Jaques). The miscast Bitterman plays this
cybersilliness seriously and stolidly — which is problematic, since he’s the
star. Still, there’s plenty to get your cyber-rocks off on.
- Constance Monaghan
©1999 LA WEEKLY
BACKSTAGE WEST
As much as I loathed every nanosecond spent in front of The Matrix (indulging a
visiting teenage nephew, if you must know), it turned out to be valuable groundwork for
grasping this no-budget show, which best exemplifies the raffish charm for which the
Sacred Fools is becoming noted. Steve Pickering and Charley Sherman have adapted William
Gibson's cyber-noir story of love and chicanery (two men, one girl, and then a whole lot
of money get liberated) into a surprisingly endearing piece of theatre.
As wonderful as designer Aaron Francis' dyspeptic vision of the future is (like
today, but junkier, and with fabulous lighting), it's Adam Bitterman in the role of the
hardened yet not hopeless romantic Automatic Jack who carries the show. He's gruff yet
honest while dealing with the reality that the affections of the tempestuous Rikki (Piper
Henry, who grows on you in spite of her listen-to-mah-ayccent accent) will probably fall
to his arrogant young friend, Bobby Quinne (the vibrant David Holcomb).
Rikki wants to be a SimStim actress (and here I must urge you to read the glossary
in your program before the show), so she's just passing through, and, anyway, the boys are
operating in a milieu where dames are set pieces, so the real story is how the two of them
are going to relieve the criminally rich Chrome (a striking if non-speaking Tenny
Priebe)
of much of her ill-gotten gains. There is a deliciously jaded bartender thrown into the
mix, of course, and he is played with great humor by Jeff Goldman. The background actors
are usually quite complementary to the proceedings, although at times the
hey-I've-got-an-inner-dialogue-too approach can be a bit distracting.
Mary Hayes displays great imagination with her costumes and never forgets that,
whenever possible, the cantilevered breast is best. Her creations are matched by the
inventive props of Stan Freitag and Darrin W. Jaques (although I think some money may have
been spent here). Director Scott Rabinowitz keeps the show moving and never becomes so
enamored of the techno-babble that he slows it down so we can absorb it; he knows as well
as we do that it doesn't really matter. I appreciate that.
- Wenzel Jones
©1999 BACKSTAGE WEST
ACCESSIBLY LIVE
BURNING CHROME, the William Gibson short story of love in the near future,
opened at the Sacred Fools Theater.
In this world that we all know, or will know, there is Cyberspace; part of the
communication grid, where the Internet would be created. Closer within, there is the
Matrix; the place where the computer data live. A pair of ‘cowboys’, computer
hackers, Automatic Jack (Adam Bitterman) and Bobby Quinne (David Holcomb) plan to hack the
wealth of a mob head, Chrome (Tenny Priebe). She is a woman that’s more a part of
simulated stimulation, or ‘simstim’, than real reality. These two cowboys are in
love with Rikki Wildside (Piper Henry). She has some ideas of her own on with what’s
going on in a world that consists of big corporations getting bigger, and virtual reality
is reality!!
Gibson’s sci-fi writings, including this adaptation by Steve Pickering and Charley
Sherman, has been read and followed for quite a while. (Gibson is accredited to coin the
word cyberspace long before it became within the lexicon of the last decade of the 20th
century). This version, incredibly directed by Scott Rabinowitz, has a feel of a world
that is all mean looking gadgetry, and meaner looking persons living in an element (real
or otherwise) that is out of control and within the points of no return. Sci-fi is the
only story genre that hasn’t worked well on stage. Of course, there are exceptions to
this rule, as BURNING CHROME holds up! It shows that this sociated ‘world’ is
mean, hard and is almost the place where love can exist. In cyberspace, however, there is
no love, only players in the matrix.
- Rich Borowy
©1999 ACCESSIBLY LIVE
LA TIMES
The technically flashy "Burning
Chrome" at Sacred Fools gives a futuristic spin to hard-boiled noir, with mixed
results.
Based on a story by William Gibson, the celebrated progenitor of cyberpunk, this stage
adaptation by Steve Pickering and Charley Sherman preserves Gibson's stylistically
experimental, computer-influenced techno-jargon.
And that's a problem. Cyberpunk may be the cutting edge in sci-fi fiction, but the
technological double-talk that characterizes the genre doesn't always cut it as theatrical
dialogue. Despite impressive technical effects, the visualization of cyberspace remains
amorphous.
Unwieldy exposition sets the dystopian scene, a dehumanized society in which computers
have supplanted religion as the opiate of the masses. Brilliant "console cowboy"
Bobby (David Holcomb) persuades his reluctant partner Automatic Jack (Adam
Bitterman) to
rip off Chrome (Tenny Priebe), a mobster queen with vast financial holdings and a lethal
reputation.
Chrome's cash is hidden deep in the Matrix, a glorified Internet where world commerce,
legal and non, is conducted. First, the partners must hack through the "black
ice"--the deadly countermeasures--protecting the dough. The scam is complicated when
both guys get a yen for Rikki Wildside (Piper Henry), a free spirit who has come to town
hoping to star in "simstim"--a virtual reality medium in which the actors
replace their eyes with cameras. Although Jack's love for Rikki is true, he's destined to
download the blues.
Impelled by driving rock music, Scott Rabinowitz's carefully syncopated staging is meant
to be comically overwrought, and succeeds. Aaron Francis' set and lighting design, Mary
Hayes' fetish-inspired costumes, and J Warner's sound are wildly inventive, as are Stan
Freitag and Darrin W. Jaques' props and Gene Lushtak's original video, which opens the
action.
- F. KATHLEEN FOLEY
©1999 LA TIMES |
