Beatnik 2
Beatnik 2
Produced by Beth Marshall
With Sam Butcher, Bret Carson, Janine Kline and Adrian LePeltier
11-7-2014
The Venue, Orlando FL</strong>
There’s a melancholy mood in the air this fall, the sort of feeling that comes upon high school seniors about two weeks before graduation: the fun is over, big changes are in the air and uncertainty lies ahead. The Venue is doomed in its present location, although it will hang on longer than that other place across the tracks. But enough moping – what exactly happened tonight?
It’s the second incarnation of Beth Marshall’s “Beatnik”, a multimedia show that simulates the hipster hippie scene most of these performers grandparents might have experienced. Milling about pre-show are ardent petitioners; we are asked to scrawl unreadable signatures on improvised clip boards. What other method do we have to assure living wages all over the earth? A man in tie dye offers discount acid from a small brown bottle, it’s not exactly Owsley and I’ve been waiting all week for the walls to melt and swirl. In the populous bar area the bar tender occasionally runs across the street to pick up a few more obscure brews that have run low. Adrian LePeltier appears as the eminence gris of the establishment; his bold hair contrasts with his sharkskin suit as he encourages peace, love and excessive alcohol consumption. Silent Bongo Brett punctuates the evening with drum riffs but no vocals; his beats and snaps and triangular glasses say more than words. MC’ing the evening is local bad boy Sam Butcher; he’s in full sardonic sarcasm mode. Tonight he despises what we adore and adores what we despise, which is principally Sam Butcher.
The inner sanctum is guarded by grimacing bouncer Terri G, and we enter Plato’s cave of entertainment, hoping to see a glimmer of the past on the back wall of this cramped theatre. Butcher rails against Chance Gordy, landlord and evil capitalist; Gordy makes no response but is represented by a woman in disco cowboy wear. Dancers dance the “Rites of Late Winter”, spoken word artists speak, and there are raffles. There are always raffles. Butcher heckles an audience which is full of out-of-town Fringe producers cruising for out-of- town artists. Amanda Grey sings a sweet folk song as I squirm on the hard metal seat. More comedy; someone gets boffo laughs off “cancer” and we awkwardly pretend to laugh at the Ionesco joke. Do people still stage Ionesco? And if so… “Why”?
Another raffle. Another plaid shirt. Hippies never wore plaid; that was for Lutherans with working class jobs. While the entertainment flies by faster than a punk set, the authenticity of this show is iffy as there is absolutely NO noticeable body odor. And I personally know that many of these people hold down regular paying jobs.
A raffle. An airline pilot does a few minutes of his stand up philosopher routine; he’s a natural to work the Fringe circuit as he has jump seat privileges on a major carrier. A magician levitates a flower, and in a nice flourish he sets it on fire. Poof! Now Janis Joplin rises from the dead, and delivers a drunken rendition of “Me and Bobby McGee” before face planting in front of Mr. Butcher. You begin to sense why Bobby slipped away,
We now approached the show’s climax, Butcher heaps abuse on the woman from Mr. Gordy’s office, she reveals a deep dark breath gasping secret, and voila! A fuzzy happy reunion! All we need now is some dance action from Blue and her troupe, and it’s off to claim our raffle prizes and grab a few more beers. Overall, VERY entertaining, even if everything this show knows about hippies comes from the movies.
For more information on Beth Marshall Presents visit http://bethmarshallpresents.wordpress.com/
More information on events at The Venue resides at http://TheVenueOrlando.com/
