L.A. Party, presented by the PuSh International Performing Arts Festival and SFU Woodward’s from Jan. 21 to 25, transcends the tedium of a tired, clichéd storyline with its quirky, self-aware dialogue and sense of discovery.
A lonely, inexperienced (i.e. he’s never had a girlfriend and desperately wants one) vegan who needs to get out more finally gets his first taste of ‘the dark side’. Temptation calls in the form of a house party with slacker surfers with Australian accents asking him if he’d like a beer, some weed, some mushrooms, and the list goes on. The audience sits in captured time watching his descent into madness, enamored by the theatrical display of his inner turmoil and the hayride his mind takes.
Perhaps it’s the draw of the ‘city of dreams’ — the burning vibe that you could be anyone you want to be.
The story is only one half of the show. Performance wise, L.A. Party was pretty darn fantastic. The arrangement was a completely original innovation. It took me a while (I’m embarrassed to say) to realize that there were actually three actors building off of one another to create one character; such was the smooth synchronization of the performance. I love how this visual demonstration of disembodiment reflects the main character’s disconnection from his old personality.
It was like nothing I’d seen before or even imagined — the actress sitting in the middle of the stage had her face bandaged up, and on the screen that was her face, a live video played of a man making facial expressions to the timing of yet another actor doing the voiceover, speaking with a passion and intensity that was mirrored in the actress’ movements and the other actor’s exaggerated facial movements.
There was something magical and startlingly intimate about listening to this witty, sometimes long-winded and at all times self-absorbed, vegan unfold and sit up in a dark room. And when the spotlight recast itself on the voice actor — whose solo entailed him screaming utter nonsense about monkeys and pancakes in various accents and intonations for five minutes — the room erupted with the silence of shock and the uproarious laughter of incredulity. Well done, performers.
This man could be anyone and everyone; just change the face projected on video and the faceless entity adopts another personality.
I must pause to wonder why the writers chose to set such a commonplace occurrence specifically in LA. Perhaps it’s the draw of the ‘city of dreams’ — the burning vibe that you could be anyone you want to be.
This man could be anyone and everyone; just change the face projected on video and the faceless entity adopts another personality. You can pretend, you can act, you can transform and take on another mask for one night, or for the rest of your nights.
Maybe that’s why it speaks to the audience. It seems pretty poignant that a man’s journey overnight to self-discovery should take place in a culture of inherent vanity, of perpetuating laziness, of pretense and lust for fame and status. Perhaps it is not just the city of dreams, but also the city of second chances. In his fall into madness, there was tranquility.
L.A. Party was a work of art — storytelling on a children’s playground — where imagination ricocheted to life in a small dark room. A little satirical, L.A. Party combined an upsized dose of talent in an enormously enjoyable and hugely hilarious show.
