“Wailin' with Van Halen ”
According to the seedling of a
rumor now circulating on the Internet, Van Halen, the four-man, hard
rock band popular mainly from the 70s into the 90s, is considering another
reunion, which would be like manna from heaven for the dwindling legions of its aging fans.
As I left the Atlantic Theatre’s Stage II, where Eddie and Dave, Amy Staats’s flawed play about the band is housed, a woman in the elevator said to me, “The most hilarious part of the show was how old everyone in the audience was.” I then texted my 26-year-old granddaughter about her own familiarity with Van Halen. Her answer: “Not at all.”
As I left the Atlantic Theatre’s Stage II, where Eddie and Dave, Amy Staats’s flawed play about the band is housed, a woman in the elevator said to me, “The most hilarious part of the show was how old everyone in the audience was.” I then texted my 26-year-old granddaughter about her own familiarity with Van Halen. Her answer: “Not at all.”
Megan Hill, Vanessa Aspillaga. Photo: Ahron R. Foster. |
If a reunion does come to pass, hopefully things won’t be as
whack as in 1996, when the group, which had separated from lead singer David Lee Roth in 1985
(replacing him with Sammy Hagar), reunited
temporarily to produce their Best
of—Volume I album and present an award at that year’s MTV Video Music Awards.
But Roth’s odd onstage behavior
while presenting an award to Beck, and post-show
friction with the band’s great guitarist, Eddie Van Halen, put
the kibosh on those plans.
Eddie and Dave is a laughter-deprived, semi-musical biodrama. Staats notes that “The only thing real about this play is the author’s love for a certain band,” but it actually sticks pretty close to the facts surrounding Van Halen’s origins, rise to fame, bumpy career, disagreements, and reconciliations. Its strings fray, though, when it’s performed under Margot Bordelon’s direction in the aggressively pumped-up manner of a cartoon-like spoof, now and then palely reminiscent of the classic movie satire about longhaired bands, This Is Spinal Tap.
The show gets off to a promising start, taking us back to
the 1996 debacle before recreating the band’s story, in multiple short scenes, beginning
when the Dutch-born Van Halen boys arrive in America, aged seven and nine. Narrating
their tale is a brassy, female MTJ-VJ (video jockey), played by Vanessa
Aspillaga, who also serves as minor characters, like Quincy Jones and Michael
Jackson, the former having inveigled Eddie to participate on the gloved one’s “Beat
It.” This is the VJ’s “memory play,” which she introduces in The Glass Menagerie-style by saying, “Yeah,
I got tricks up my pocket, I have zippers up my sleeves.”
Vanessa Aspillaga. Photo: Ahron R. Foster. |
Meghan Hill, Adina Verson, Amy Staats. Photo: Ahron R. Foster. |
And how long do you think it takes for the joke of having Eddie’s
wife, long-running sitcom star (“One Day at a Time”) Valerie Bertinelli,
played by tall, skinny, five o’clock-shadowed Omer Abbas Salem, to fall as flat
as the actor’s chest? The broad performances are engaging only up to a point, and it's one that comes very soon.
If your main interest in seeing a play about Van Halen is their
music, you’ll be even grumpier, as the disappointingly few songs, heard in snatches
of a few bars here and there, are mimed in synch with the group’s recordings,
very few of which—like “Jump”—are named. If you’re not a fan, you may not even
be able to separate the occasional sounds of Michael Thurber’s original music
from Van Halen’s. Copyright issues may be at play, of course, but, if so, why
do a show about famous musicians without being able to cover their hits?
Van Halen’s story will have its chief interest for fans, who
already know it. For those who don’t, it varies little from the stories of other
famous bands (see Bohemian Rhapsody
for a good example), with their quarrelling, fistfights, jealousies, artistic
disputes, business issues, substance abuse and rehab, health problems, breakups,
and so on.
Whatever the real Dave, Eddie, and Al are like, Staats gives
us only caricatures, from Dave’s peacock strutting to Eddie’s shyness and inarticulateness
to Al’s diffidence. Without something more three-dimensional (or laugh-worthy),
nonfans, like me, will find they couldn’t care less. You need more than playing
gender games to stir up interest.
Reid Thompson creates a flexible setting, using walls covered
with rock music memorabilia, and a back wall on which Shawn Boyle can create numerous
nifty video projections. Jiyoun Chang gives the show the ambience it needs, while
Montana Levi Blanco has fun recreating the band’s look, supplemented by the spot-on
hair and wig stylings of Cookie Jordan.
OTHER VIEWPOINTS:
Atlantic Theater Stage 2
W. 16th St., NYC
Through February 10