Zesty 1-man performance
nurtures grander themes
"Road Movie," shows at 8 p.m. Friday, 4 p.m. and 8 p.m. Saturday and 4 p.m. Sunday at Paliku Theatre, Windward Community College. Tickets: $20 ($18 for students, seniors), available at the theater. Charge by phone: 526-4400.An inevitable sense of déjà vu is involved in any of Mark Pinkosh's one-man productions -- "Haole Boy," "Road Movie" or "Don't Forget Me." Each illuminates a different slice of modern American life, but Pinkosh is so consistent in applying his skills as a solo actor-storyteller that to have enjoyed one is to guarantee the enjoyment of all.
Curiosity seekers unfamiliar with Pinkosh will find "Road Movie" a fine introduction to his style and his productive partnership with playwright Godfrey Hamilton. With a running time of just over 90 minutes, there's plenty of time to appreciate Pinkosh's skill, yet his individual characters don't overstay their welcome. As always, the main thing is to sit back and enjoy Pinkosh's performance. The deeper elements of Hamilton's script -- the gradual awareness that there is more here than the story of a particular character, and themes that transcend ethnicity or sexual orientation -- emerge in their own good time.
"Road Movie," performed on a stage bare but for a single chair, is a highly stylized journey through time, space and emotion, with Pinkosh switching characters on a line-by-line basis. Scott finds Joel lying face down in a gutter, takes him to his houseboat and helps him recover from a near-fatal drinking spree. Scott, a California native, is gay, sensitive and loving. Joel is gay but wrapped up in his work as a writer or executive of some type; he's looking for more, perhaps, than sex but admits to being uncomfortable with emotional issues and "letting go."
Joel stays with Scott for several days and begins to relax but returns to New York in time for his next big meeting.
Some time later, maybe weeks, maybe months, maybe longer, Joel decides to surprise Scott by driving to visit him in California. Along the way he encounters a flamboyant "dope-smoking diva" in Atlanta who hands out condoms in a popular gay cruising area, a woman in Arizona whose daughter committed suicide and a wealthy, zoned-out California woman whose family owns the houseboat.
None of these secondary characters captures the heart, but Pinkosh plays them all with zest. Each interlude becomes a story within a story and another way for Pinkosh to display his range. It's his characterizations rather than the lines that make "Road Movie" entertaining.
From another perspective, playwright Hamilton slips in some neat dramatic side trips. An early segment is well spent on the topic of bumper stickers, a somber but moving discussion of the Vietnam Memorial and American MIAs. A fine change-of-pace piece involves Joel's reactions when he discovers a seemingly unlimited number of cable channels available in a backwater California motel. Most of these bits and pieces would register as the equivalent of those infuriating "traffic calming" devices, in that each retards the forward progress of the story of Joel's return to California, but each "stop" becomes another showcase for Pinkosh.
There are, of course, somber themes as well. Joel ponders on the absence of a memorial for the victims of AIDS -- "I want a cure and I want my friends back," he cries, adding that a quilt in the rain is not sufficient. He considers the potential quotient of self-hate to be found in the phrase "straight-acting guy" that he finds in personal ads. He wonders when gay men will stop hiding in shadows and confront "this disease."
It's Pinkosh's platform throughout and he's in top form. Douglas McCracken (lighting), Alanna Daley (light board) and Ray Camarillo (sound board) add embellishments in key spots and help suggest that Joel's final observation, "We have such a long drive ahead of us," may be a positive one.
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