The strains of being new
Holocaust drama proves overly ambitious for the new theater company.
The Hollywood Stage Company took a few too many creative liberties in its “Bent” production.
With ominous stories of right-wing extremism in parts of the world, there’s a solid case to be made for a revival of the Holocaust drama “Bent” so soon after the high-profile Mark Taper Forum production less than two years ago.
Arguments in support of the new Hollywood Stage Company’s ambitious but overreaching production are harder to come by, however.
Martin Sherman’s 1979 play broke ground spotlighting the persecution of homosexuals. Gays were so reviled under the Nazi regime that the play’s ethically challenged protagonist — a concentration camp prisoner named Max (Lior Burlin) — welcomes the status upgrade in getting himself classified as Jewish rather than gay.
Among the nonprofessional ensemble, however, the sadistic Nazi officers (Sean Lee, Rebecca Jarrell) prove more intense and credible than Max and his fellow victims, diminishing the production’s emotional impact. This uneven performance quality could be a harbinger of the small theater scene in the wake of the Actors Equity Assn.’s change in rules for L.A. theaters with 99 seats or fewer. Critics of the change fear it will sharply reduce opportunities for union professionals to appear on small local stages and force theater companies to settle for less seasoned talent.
A potentially diminished casting pool may be an inevitable fact of life for companies on shoestring budgets, but rookie missteps in this production of “Bent” illustrate staging pitfalls that be could have been avoided by sticking to a script as written.
Taking bold creative liberties with a script is rarely a productive impulse, especially for a company with no track record.
In the first act of “Bent,” the playwright uses the hedonistic lifestyle of Max and his lovers — including one number in a drag club — for a specific purpose: to dramatize how Germany’s permissive Weimar Republic era came to a violent end as the Nazis solidified their power.
Here, director, co-producer and performer Robert Hayman shifts the balance into over-amped peepshow territory by adding a 20-minute poor man’s “Cabaret”style preshow, prolonging the nudity in another scene, and expanding his role as the club’s emcee. While these indulgences might raise the production’s appeal to some ticket buyers, they come at the expense of the broader sympathy and horror the first act is constructed to engender for the victims.
When the second act shifts to Max’s forced labor incarceration in Dachau, his captors state that rest breaks last three minutes, yet his pivotal romantic exchange with a fellow prisoner during one of those breaks clocks in at seven. Greater attention and respectful staging would better serve a script with a timely message about the fragility of freedom.