Theatre in Review: Bullet for Adolf (New World Stages)Surely this has happened to you: You're somewhere -- say a bar or a party -- and you find yourself talking to a pair of acquaintances. You don't know them well, but they've been friends forever. They tell you a story from days gone by; the tale is long and elaborate, and they keep cracking each other up, piling on detail after irrelevant detail. As their hilarity builds, so does your boredom. You sit there, politely, watching them amuse themselves, waiting for the payoff, and, when it arrives, it's not remotely worth it. That pretty much encapsulates the experience of seeing Bullet for Adolf, in which Woody Harrelson and Frankie Hyman reminisce about their salad days as construction workers in Houston, in the early '80s. Apparently nothing much happened to them back then, because certainly nothing happens in their play. Loosely plotted and loaded with some of the most appalling jokes you've ever heard, Bullet for Adolf is largely devoted to presenting the author's youthful selves, surrounded by a gang of liars, layabouts, and confounding females. If bad taste is your thing, you'll be in hog heaven. The Harrelson character is Zach, a slow-talking booze-and-pot-loving country boy who may or may not be as dumb as he looks. ("I'm not bilingual, but I do know 'armoire' is French for love," he says, demonstrating his best continental manner.) Hyman's stand-in is Frankie Shlomo, late of Harlem, which he left one step ahead of the police. Even in their own vehicle, however, these two tend to be overshadowed by their bizarre and obstreperous supporting cast. They include Dago-Czech (real name Dwight), who insists that he is "half-Italian, half-Czechoslovakian, a hundred percent n----r." (His idea of making conversation is to sneer, "Do you have a motherf--ing mother, motherf---er?") There's Clint, Zach's Juilliard-bound roommate, who, despite a smothering mother, Judy Garland records, and mannerisms apparently based on an intensive study of the films of Paul Lynde, is heterosexual. The ladies' delegation is represented by Banita, a bellicose half-pint Buddhist with a strong right cross and a voice that would shatter glass; Jackie, a nice, pretty HR administrator who inexplicably falls for Frankie; and Shareeta, her wisecracking best friend. There's a tiny plot, involving the theft of a Luger used in an assassination attempt against Adolf Hitler, but, really, nobody gets too bothered about it. The gun, by the way, belongs to Jurgen, the German bricklayer who employs Frankie and Zach. It's typical of the play that when the characters attend a get-together at Jurgen's house, nobody seems to notice the enormous portrait of Hitler on the wall. Then again, depending on the scene, Jurgen is either a defender of Der Fuhrer -- after all, we learn, he gave us the modern highway, the Volkswagen, and the two-week vacation -- or just an all-around good guy. The real action of the play is the manufacture of tasteless wisecracks and embarrassing situations, and here the authors are in their element. There are pedophilia jokes ("They just found the cause of pedophilia." "What's that?" "Sexy kids"), concentration camp jokes (when Jurgen brings in a burnt dessert, Shareeta snipes, "I thought you people were better with ovens"), and plenty of frat-house taunts ("Why don't you lick his balls, you f---in' brown nose?" "If I do, I'll be tasting your saliva."). There's even a birthday party where the main course turns out to be the birthday girl's placenta, which has been lovingly preserved in a freezer for 18 years. If you can't tell by now that Bullet for Adolf is a collection of weird personalities and unpalatable gags in search of a play, then I give up. There's nothing wrong with politically incorrect humor (see, for example, Clybourne Park) but some wit is necessary, along with some context, some reason for giving offense. The gags here are the provocations of adolescents who are inordinately pleased with their own oafishness. Not helping matters one little bit is the way Harrelson, who directed, has encouraged everyone to scream their lines, especially the endless streams of profanity that occur so frequently. (The dialogue makes The Motherf---er with the Hat seem like an episode of Bunheads.) Nobody gets out of this unscathed, but Marsha Stephanie Blake, as Shareeta, manages to get a laugh or two -- which is, under the circumstances, a herculean achievement. ("I'm so flattered to be the second person you asked to sleep with you this morning," she says, by way of informing Zach that his attentions are not welcome.) Given the things they are asked to say and do, everyone else is remarkably enthusiastic, right up to the choreographed curtain call. The action unfolds on Dane Laffrey's construction-site set, a two-level arrangement of scaffolding that does not adapt well when the action shifts to other locations. Much better are the video sequences, by Imaginary Media, which call up virtually every '80s icon, from Ronald Reagan to Michael Jackson. (The decision to include clips from Cheers is probably a little too cute, for obvious reasons.) Jen Schriever's lighting, Kristy Leigh Hall's costumes, and Brett Jarvis' sound design -- a zesty playlist of '80s pop hits--are okay. Which, frankly, is more than you can say for Bullet for Adolf. During the first act, I started to get that old Moose Murders feeling, but ultimately it falls short of that Valhalla of awfulness. In fact, that's the best thing you can say about it.--David Barbour 
|
