"Rockin' at the Rattlestick"
There’s a scene in the 1951 film Westward, the Women in which Robert Taylor and Henry Nakamura
drunkenly parody a conventional 19th-century melodrama, their dialogue going
something like this:
Villain (with mustache): You must pay the rent!
Damsel in distress (bow in her hair): But I can't pay the rent!
Villain: You must pay the rent!
Damsel: But I can't pay the rent!
Hero (wearing bow tie): I'll pay the rent!
Damsel: My hero!
Villain: Curses! Foiled again!
Damsel in distress (bow in her hair): But I can't pay the rent!
Villain: You must pay the rent!
Damsel: But I can't pay the rent!
Hero (wearing bow tie): I'll pay the rent!
Damsel: My hero!
Villain: Curses! Foiled again!
From left: Lusia Strus, Margo Seibert. Photo: Sandra Coudert. |
Lusia Strus, Jeb Brown. Photo: Sandra Coudert. |
Hank and the aging slum lord who owns the
building have had a handshake deal keeping the rent reasonable, but the owner
has entrusted the property to his ambitious son, Joey (Chris Kipiniak), who
couldn’t care less about the joint’s history and will close it down if he doesn’t
immediately get a 20% rent hike; he even suggests to Hank’s Joan Jett-ish
22-year-old daughter, Lena (Margo Seibert, Adrian in Broadway’s ROCKY), that
she could pay it off “in trade.”
Margo Seibert, Chris Kipiniak. Photo: Sandra Coudert. |
With the threat of losing the crumbling
establishment in the balance (a ceiling verges on collapse), and the
aggressively stubborn Hank’s unwillingness to take Joey’s demands seriously or
to accept any change in the way he runs the place, it’s up to Lena, Toby (Brian
Miskell), the club’s nerdy factotum who digs Lena, and Nash (Daniel Abeles),
Lena’s DJ boyfriend, to carry out a rescue plan. The idea, hatched by Nash,
involves taking over the deserted warehouse next door (also owned by Joey’s
dad) and charging admission to an all-night rave presided over by a dozen DJs.
Brian Miskell, Margo Seibert. Photo: Sandra Coudert. |
DJs are anathema to the old-school, change-resisting Hank; Lena
says he thinks them “soul-less.” (“Hank: He’s just playing records. How can
that be a skill?”) When he meets the initially polite and respectful (albeit ambitious) Nash he
treats him rudely with unbridled contempt. The play’s ending is sufficiently
ambiguous for some to wonder whether Hank’s initial judgment about Nash is valid or
unjustified. As for his
judgment about the DJ’s craft, it might be of interest to check out this
link to the April 2 edition of the NewYork Times.
Margo Seibert, Jeb Brown. Photo: Sandra Coudert. |
Rounding out the cast is Hank’s ex-wife, Bette (Lusia Strus), a raspy-voiced, va-va-voom blonde. Hank married Bette
after his drug-addled first wife, Lena’s mom, departed, and, though he and
Bette live apart, she’s often at the club and has a warm relationship with both
Hank and Lena, her stepdaughter. Despite her bimbo-like big hair and skintight
outfits, she’s intelligent and sincere. Ms. Strus, a standout, makes this supporting role live and breathe.
Hank’s problem is his inability to accept that
he’s aging and losing touch with changes in contemporary musical tastes. He
rejects anything smacking of nostalgia because it makes him feel old. He’s also an extremely controlling (and jealous) father; Lena's the biggest love of his life, especially
when it comes to his fear of her using drugs, but the resulting conflict between
his wishes and hers occasionally tips into sitcom territory, especially when she proves a chip off the old block. Troubled as it is,
though, the Hank-Lena relationship contrasts sharply with the more strained, if
only glancingly expressed, one between Joey and his (unseen) father.
Despite its “you must pay the rent” plotline,
the play struggles to generate real tension, and seems more intent on character
exploration than melodramatic suspense. A lengthy, intimate scene between Hank
and Bette gives her a chance to defend Nash, and provides Hank an opportunity to
rhapsodize about what music means to him, but it also bogs the play down.
Kirsten Kelly’s nicely judged direction is
heightened by John McDermott’s atmospherically detailed barroom setting, Joel
Moritz’s versatile lighting, Sarah J. Holden’s 1992
hipster clothing, and Lindsay Jones’s expert sound design. Mr. Brown, whose
Hank resembles a skinny Kris Kristofferson, makes a believable musician/club
owner, although his more emotional scenes shade into mannerisms (hands on face,
hands through hair, etc.). He provides two credible—but seemingly tacked-on—musical
numbers, one of them the Stones’s “Pleased to Meet You,” accompanying himself
on an electric guitar. Ms. Seibert, an outstanding musical talent, sings
not a note, but comports herself well in the role of a daughter
challenging her father’s expectations. Messrs. Abeles, Miskell, and Kipiniak
all provide substantial ballast to make it worth your while to check out this conventional 95-minute
play set within an unconventional world.
THE UNDENIABLE SOUND OF RIGHT NOW
Rattlestick Playwrights Theater
24 Waverly Place, NYC
Through May 2
THE UNDENIABLE SOUND OF RIGHT NOW
Rattlestick Playwrights Theater
24 Waverly Place, NYC
Through May 2