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Funny, Very Funny ... And Then Some
By Sam Oglesby, For The Bulletin
Imagine all the Southern heroines and villains you have ever seen on screen or experienced leaping out from the pages of Gone with the Wind, the novels of Faulkner and Tennessee Williams and throw in, for good measure, Mrs. Wong, the owner of Wong’s Chinese Restaurant.
Frank Blocker brings these figures to life before your very eyes as he plays 17 different characters in 60 minutes in a delightfully convoluted one-person play titled Southern Gothic Novel.
Divided into 13 different “chapters” the play keeps the audience in a tiny, 30-seat pocket of a theater straining in their seats as our tragedienne-villain-hero-heroine-redneck rascal star of many faces and bodies takes us through a sizzling tale of intrigue and longing that rocks the southern town of Aberdeen, Miss. to its very roots — or should we say, to its mobile home foundations.
Viola Haygood is the classic Southern maiden — a librarian, of course — the type immortalized by Geraldine Page in Tennessee Williams’ Summer and Smoke and other Dixieland dramas where lives are lived on wisps of memory and fantasy. Her steel magnolia persona heaves and sighs through whispered confidences to the audience as she rolls her eyes and flaps her hands while describing being in love for the umpteenth time. Her dramatic foils are many, from the fleshy carnosity of saloon owner Odessa “Big Otis” Cole, a commanding African-American lady in the Hattie McDaniel mold (“Well, I’m big and I’m black, but I don’t bite!”) to the Bubba-esque dimwit Jimmy Townsend.
And then there is the quintessential Southern mother Donna Hazzler, driven half mad by a daughter she loves but can’t quite understand.
“If Jimmy Townsend comes sniffin’ by here again today, you tell him the wash isn’t done because he still owes me detergent — and while you’re at it, why don’t you see if he’ll marry you?,” she asks her daughter.
Pushing the boundaries of the believable, Mr. Blocker’s most ambitious impersonation is that of Mrs. Wong, the outspoken doyenne of Aberdeen’s best — and only — Chinese restaurant. A high point of dramatic intensity is reached when Mrs. Wong’s delivery van hits Viola, leaving her flat on the street, but uninjured.
The role transfers and dialogue exchanges are fast and furious as Mr. Blocker switches instantaneously and convincingly from Mrs. Wong — “I sorry. I not know I hit her” — to Viola — Oh God! My books! My skirt!” — to Mark Julius — “If you don’t mind my being too forward…”
Mark is the knight on the white horse who “rescues” Viola and steals her heart in the process. Her fit over his pro-offered hankerchief is in itself reason enough to take in this play.
The plot careens to a climax when a white slavery ring is exposed. By midpoint, on the tiny stage behind which a backdrop of real Manhattan skyscrapers incongruously looms, we are less concerned with the plot than with the mesmerizing changes of character and display of southern accents that Mr. Blocker provides. Throughout the performance, he is attired in a loose-fitting Hawaiian shirt and khaki trousers. There are no role-changing embellishments such as wigs, costumes or make-up; nor could there be with the lickety-split character transitions required by the story. And he doesn’t need any help. Mr. Blocker believes so utterly in the roles he plays that he becomes these personages.
Southern Gothic Novel is an off-off Broadway production; the nature of the play and type of theater are about as far from mainstream Broadway as you can get. Let tourists and daytrippers from New Jersey go to The Lion King and Mamma Mia. In-the-know New Yorkers seek out hidden gems like Gothic in the miniscule spaces that cluster around the far reaches of Hell’s Kitchen near the Hudson River, where icy winter winds make an evening’s outing seem like a trip to the North Pole. Bone-chilling cold not withstanding, it is well worth the journey. An added bonus is eating out in this neighborhood, where inexpensive, authentic foods of every imaginable type are to be found on Eighth, Ninth and 10th avenues, tucked between old Italian butcher shops and bakeries that, in most New York City neighborhoods, disappeared long ago.
That Mr. Blocker, a white man who appears to be in his 40s, can slip into and out of these 17 roles in a effortless and totally convincing series of transformations is testimony not only to the skills of Mr. Blocker as an actor, but also to the professionalism of Cheryl King, artistic and managing director of Stage Left Studio, the only solo-show repertory theatre in New York City. She is also the creator of the Left Out Festival, a festival of performance art that first showcased Southern Gothic in 2008 in a single soldout performance at Stage Left Studio, bringing it from an online Web serial to the stage. Ms. King has nurtured the show ever since with the idea of an extended run. With spirited audience response, this goal has now been realized; the show is now scheduled to run through March 2009.
Unique and utterly brilliant, Southern Gothic Novel is a must-see for anyone interested in innovative, beyond-the-fringe theater.
Stage Left Studio Theatre is at 438 West 37th St. (between Ninth and 10th avenues), 5th floor. Tickets, $25; please visit www.SmartTix.com or call 212 868-4444.
Sam Oglesby is a New York City-based writer who can be reached at ogl39@aol.com.
Frank Blocker brings these figures to life before your very eyes as he plays 17 different characters in 60 minutes in a delightfully convoluted one-person play titled Southern Gothic Novel.
Divided into 13 different “chapters” the play keeps the audience in a tiny, 30-seat pocket of a theater straining in their seats as our tragedienne-villain-hero-heroine-redneck rascal star of many faces and bodies takes us through a sizzling tale of intrigue and longing that rocks the southern town of Aberdeen, Miss. to its very roots — or should we say, to its mobile home foundations.
Viola Haygood is the classic Southern maiden — a librarian, of course — the type immortalized by Geraldine Page in Tennessee Williams’ Summer and Smoke and other Dixieland dramas where lives are lived on wisps of memory and fantasy. Her steel magnolia persona heaves and sighs through whispered confidences to the audience as she rolls her eyes and flaps her hands while describing being in love for the umpteenth time. Her dramatic foils are many, from the fleshy carnosity of saloon owner Odessa “Big Otis” Cole, a commanding African-American lady in the Hattie McDaniel mold (“Well, I’m big and I’m black, but I don’t bite!”) to the Bubba-esque dimwit Jimmy Townsend.
And then there is the quintessential Southern mother Donna Hazzler, driven half mad by a daughter she loves but can’t quite understand.
“If Jimmy Townsend comes sniffin’ by here again today, you tell him the wash isn’t done because he still owes me detergent — and while you’re at it, why don’t you see if he’ll marry you?,” she asks her daughter.
Pushing the boundaries of the believable, Mr. Blocker’s most ambitious impersonation is that of Mrs. Wong, the outspoken doyenne of Aberdeen’s best — and only — Chinese restaurant. A high point of dramatic intensity is reached when Mrs. Wong’s delivery van hits Viola, leaving her flat on the street, but uninjured.
The role transfers and dialogue exchanges are fast and furious as Mr. Blocker switches instantaneously and convincingly from Mrs. Wong — “I sorry. I not know I hit her” — to Viola — Oh God! My books! My skirt!” — to Mark Julius — “If you don’t mind my being too forward…”
Mark is the knight on the white horse who “rescues” Viola and steals her heart in the process. Her fit over his pro-offered hankerchief is in itself reason enough to take in this play.
The plot careens to a climax when a white slavery ring is exposed. By midpoint, on the tiny stage behind which a backdrop of real Manhattan skyscrapers incongruously looms, we are less concerned with the plot than with the mesmerizing changes of character and display of southern accents that Mr. Blocker provides. Throughout the performance, he is attired in a loose-fitting Hawaiian shirt and khaki trousers. There are no role-changing embellishments such as wigs, costumes or make-up; nor could there be with the lickety-split character transitions required by the story. And he doesn’t need any help. Mr. Blocker believes so utterly in the roles he plays that he becomes these personages.
Southern Gothic Novel is an off-off Broadway production; the nature of the play and type of theater are about as far from mainstream Broadway as you can get. Let tourists and daytrippers from New Jersey go to The Lion King and Mamma Mia. In-the-know New Yorkers seek out hidden gems like Gothic in the miniscule spaces that cluster around the far reaches of Hell’s Kitchen near the Hudson River, where icy winter winds make an evening’s outing seem like a trip to the North Pole. Bone-chilling cold not withstanding, it is well worth the journey. An added bonus is eating out in this neighborhood, where inexpensive, authentic foods of every imaginable type are to be found on Eighth, Ninth and 10th avenues, tucked between old Italian butcher shops and bakeries that, in most New York City neighborhoods, disappeared long ago.
That Mr. Blocker, a white man who appears to be in his 40s, can slip into and out of these 17 roles in a effortless and totally convincing series of transformations is testimony not only to the skills of Mr. Blocker as an actor, but also to the professionalism of Cheryl King, artistic and managing director of Stage Left Studio, the only solo-show repertory theatre in New York City. She is also the creator of the Left Out Festival, a festival of performance art that first showcased Southern Gothic in 2008 in a single soldout performance at Stage Left Studio, bringing it from an online Web serial to the stage. Ms. King has nurtured the show ever since with the idea of an extended run. With spirited audience response, this goal has now been realized; the show is now scheduled to run through March 2009.
Unique and utterly brilliant, Southern Gothic Novel is a must-see for anyone interested in innovative, beyond-the-fringe theater.
Stage Left Studio Theatre is at 438 West 37th St. (between Ninth and 10th avenues), 5th floor. Tickets, $25; please visit www.SmartTix.com or call 212 868-4444.
Sam Oglesby is a New York City-based writer who can be reached at ogl39@aol.com.
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