by K. Primeau~

We all know what it is like to go to the theatre and feel like an actor is simply talking AT you. Whether they didn’t do their homework, or the director wanted to try something out, or whatever the reason, the lack of real communication with the audience is the stuff bad theatre is made of. What happens, then, when lack of communication becomes fodder for dramatic material, when interpersonal disconnect becomes the source of comedy? Friday night’s performance of Confusions answered the question.

Confusions, a British comedy by prolific Alan Ackbourn, is a series of one acts interwoven yet varying in weight and tone. Chock full of British humour, the pieces explore marital, familial, and who-the-hell-are-you relationships, commenting on the absurdity of everyday interaction and the loneliness that often ensues. High points include Mothering, in which Mina Badie’s spot-on overwhelmed and under-appreciated Lucy coddles a hilariously childish couple, Rosemary (Abigail Revasch) and Terry (Steve Wilcox). Between hissy-fits and biting insults she reduces the two to giggling pacification. Also intriguing was Between Mouthfuls, a dining scene in which the perspective comes entirely from a waiter bustling between tables of disillusioned and disenfranchised lovers. Whilst the Pearces (Adrian Neil and Bridget Ann White) wrestle to discover the truth behind a recent business trip, Polly (Phoebe James) admits to infidelity towards Martin (Steve Wilcox) all too easily. Meanwhile, Brendan Hunt’s humourously awkward Waiter absorbs both conversations with distinctly British exasperation. All of the actors glided seamlessly between their multiple characters, running the gamut of comedic fools and villains within the theatre’s sparse playing space.

Overall, the loneliness through-line seemed a bit heavy-handed, with two renditions of Eleanor Rigby blasting between scene changes and a chorus of spontaneous rounds of shouting at the end that felt more showy than existentially telling. Being opening night, the show has plenty of time to grow into the good intentioned comedic bits and pauses that sometimes felt shallow in execution. Director John Pleshette, having worked with many of the actors previously, may still need to lend a hand in piquing the show to further engage non-British audiences.

The Lost Studio, a beautiful and warm, wooden-beamed structure hiding above La Brea also plays host to a small faux art exhibit. The theatre’s anteroom displayed a series of matching prints, each labeled with decreasing “prices,” and encouraging more than a few bemused faces during intermission. The black and white print featured disparate characters, floating in the white space, seemingly related yet failing to connect, a theme which was reiterated on the floor of the stage and reflexive of the theatrical piece at hand. And while none of the actors talked AT me, their confusion while talking at each other certainly made me smile.

Confusions is performed through March 7, 2010 Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m and Sundays at 4 p.m.

Ticket prices: $25.00.

The Lost Studio is located at 130 S. La Brea, Los Angeles, 90036, between 1st and 2nd.

Reservations online at http://www.plays411.com/confusions or by phone at (323) 960-5775.