by K. Premieu~

A first full-length production is a bit of a milestone for a theatre company. In it, the young collective establishes their identity, carving their place within the theatre-drenched LA scene. Months of fundraising and mission statement tweaking leads up to this moment, when personality and production meet the unpredictable public. As such, with lots of hope and a warm personal introduction, the Urban Theatre Movement ushered in Dog Sees God: Confessions of a Teenage Blockhead. The play, written by Bert V. Royal, features the Peanuts gang as they would be as teenagers. Whilst I was cynical of any “confessions” coming from a grown-up bunch of cartoon characters, UTM has pledged to share empowering narratives to underserved artists and local neighborhoods. If these were their goals, and this play their means, surely (I hoped) there had to be substance behind this concept.

From the opening monologue’s invitation to “just listen” to the final moment of the piece, the talented ensemble put my cynicism to rest. No longer the family-friendly gaggle from the Sunday morning paper, the sharply-written characters engaged in drug use, oral sex, binge drinking, homosexual flings, violence, and, in one extreme, pyromania. At times thoroughly disturbing, the wicked-funny piece managed to evoke Mean Girls and Laramie Project in one eloquent and touching evening.

It all starts when CB (aka Charlie Brown)’s dog dies of rabies. Wrought with questions on mortality, he wanders like Everyman through his little world - the cold, harassing halls of high school- in search of one answer, “What do you think happens when you die?” Each character provides a perspective, and the existential query begins to challenge the very foundations on which the social group has built itself. Soon CB is locking lips with the long-shunned Beethoven, challenging the status quo and inciting homophobic fear in his classmates. CB’s sister bemoans her genetic connection to him, Matt (formerly PigPen) fumes passionately, and Marcy second-guesses her tator tot complacency (“This is the cool table, right?”). No longer Peanuts brand, they must grapple with formulating identity, and dealing with others in kind. A dramatic shock at the top of the third act forces them all to realize they are responsible for manifesting their own destiny, outside of high school and a cartoon strip

Standout performances include chatty duo (insert “Ohmigawd I LOVE you!” here), Marcy and Tricia (Mikayla Park and Collins Reiter), whose discussion of sporks over water bottle martinis prompted a snorting laugh. Jesse James Rice (Beethoven) packs some powerful piano skills into the production, while Brett Fleisher (Van) manages to play a stoner who isn’t just slow-moving and spacey. The entire ensemble is work-horse strong, clearly pursuing objectives with joy and ease. My only qualms were that CB was a bit too much like speed-chat Charlie Brown, to the point of me often losing whole lines of dialogue. Additionally, while the final moment provided resolution for one of the storylines, it underlined something that was already understood and therefore compromised the intelligence of the audience.

Sound Design by Tony Bartolone authenticated the hyper self-conscious teenage experience. As Black Lip’s “Bad Kids” blasted in one scene change, the faint memory of high school insecurity churned in my gut, further transforming the piece into a visceral experience. Costumes by Diane Christensen lent gravitas to the post-Peanuts identities each character had established, including beautiful touches to CB’s Sister’s multi-personality conflicts. The simple set made of a dog house, bleachers, and swings by Rebecca Patrick elicited the cartoon world while allowing for creative staging solutions by director Mike Dias. Isolating windows of light designed by John Zamora further complimented the aesthetic. Altogether, the production value was top-notch, creating an unpretentious, malleable yet stylized playing space.

Perhaps it was the long-awaited dawning of the sunshine on Saturday morning, or the breath of refreshingly honest air each moment the actors shared, but I felt uplifted by the dark, heavy, and sometimes scary piece. My inner bully laughed at their careless treatment of friends but my heart, and the very-vocal souls sitting beside me in the audience, wept to relate to their ignorance and uncertainty. While I can’t say my mind was blown, I can whole-heartedly assert that Urban Theatre Movement’s production established the collective as a promising and ambitious company worth watching.

Dog Sees God: Confessions of a Teenage BLockhead plays Friday and Saturday nights 8 p.m. through February 6 and Sunday, January 31 at 7:30 pm

The Lounge Theatre 2 is located at 6201 Santa Monica Blvd., Los Angeles, 90038 between Gower and Vine.

Tickets are $18.00

Reservations on-line at UrbanTheatreMovement.com or at (562) 293-8645.