by Geoff Hoff~

Four Clown is probably the sweatiest play I have ever seen. The four young actors in it expend more energy in an evening than most actors expend in their entire career. It is also almost dystopian in its view of the human condition, contains a lot of buggary and is hysterically funny. Be prepared to be confounded, to be embarrassed, to recognize your own life and the life around you, to be presented with every possible pain and petty evil the world can heap upon humanity, and to laugh. A lot.

Told though a series of vignettes with improvised bits between them to move from one to the next, four clowns, the Sad Clown, the Angry Clown, the Mischievous Clown and the Nervous Clown, move through the terrors and tragedies of childhood, adolescence, adulthood and death. Along the way, they stop at young love, young lust, child abuse, parental favoritism, filial hatred, the abuse of power, alcoholism, drug abuse, war, the abuse of law and almost any other kind of abuse you can think of, the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely, the pangs of disprized love, the law’s delay, the insolence of office, and a couple of bare bodkins. There is even sweetness, although you know as soon as you see it, it will be dashed asunder somehow.

The evening begins with Mario Granville, a very accomplished piano player, entertaining us as we enter the theatre and chat amongst ourselves. He then heroically accompanies almost every moment of the show itself, occasionally suffering abuse at the hands of one or more of the clowns. After the lights dim, a commanding voice echos from the sound system and, in a twisted Dr. Seuss-like verse, sets the stage. Then the clowns gather in a kind of kick-line and sing a song extolling the joys of childhood, which include, incongruously, boobies.

There is much audience participation (bordering, at times, on audience abuse) but there are several through lines of stories; the dysfunctional family with a crazy mother who hates her daughter, the young man who worships his older brother who is really, really, really mean to him, the man who enters and makes his way through marriage and the corporate life of a working stiff, etc.

There is some inconsistency in the show; although the Mischievous Clown and the Sad Clown remain pretty much mischievous and sad through out, the Angry Clown and the Nervous Clown leave behind their archetypes more often than not, but that is a minor objection. Also, some of the improv aspects where pieces of a vignette are suggested by the audience don’t always work, although on the night I saw the show, the cure for the suggested disease “imploded penis” was nothing less than brilliant.

Each clown has his own trait and his own color, represented by his costume, his handkerchief, his makeup and any prop he pulls out of the community chest.

Each of the four actors brings a different energy to the piece, and they all add up to a very complete whole. They are all physically and comedically accomplished and their combined effort works surprisingly well. Kevin Klein plays the Mischievous Clown, all in purple. He plays the put-upon husband of the abusive mother, the abusive older brother, the young husband/corporate drone and several others, each with its own distinct form of dysfunction.

Alexis Jones is the Sad Clown, all in blue, appropriately, who is subtler than the others, quieter and not quite as manic, but what she brings to the whole is delightfully twisted. Her casual asides to a chosen audience member throughout the evening built to an hysterical crescendo. Raymond Lee is the Angry Clown, all in red. He has some amazing physical moments, both broad and subtle, and the genuinely sweet scene depicting new, young love is as charming as it is funny in it’s truth. Amir Levi is, perhaps, the most varied in his bits, the yellow Nervous Clown, he seems at times almost dangerous and the intensity and perfection of his comic timing wear you out from laughing.

The costumes, not mere clown suits but brightly ragged and appropriately surreal, were created by Cat Elrod. Special mention must be given to prop master Natalie Rich Miller, who had to find (or make) all those primary-colored props. The makeup, with each clown face subtly different from the rest, was by Amy Kubiak. It might be wise, however, to find a more robust brand in future as much of Ms. Kubiak’s artwork was sweated off twenty minutes into the show.  The lighting design, which was simple and very effective, was by John Sylvain.

Jeremy Aluma developed and directed the show, which started at last year’s Hollywood Fringe Festival, was reprised recently in Long Beach and is about to embark on a tour of Fringe Festivals around the country. He brings to it a singular, if dark, vision and the broad and subtle, slapstick and intellectual, satirical and sophomoric humor evident throughout show his talent and versatility of thought.

Four Clowns plays Friday nights at 11 pm through June 10, 2011.

Sacred Fools Theatre is located at 660 N. Heliotrope Drive, Los Angeles, CA 90004, just off Melrose between Normandie and Vermont.

Tickets: $15 general admission, $12 for students and seniors.

Reservations online at http://www.fourclowns.org/ and http://www.sacredfools.org/ or by phone at 310 281-8337