iMerica, Brand That I Love
The latest Go Comedy! original sketch comedy show, iMerica, Brand That I Love, isn’t solely about Apple’s encroaching global takeover, but the show certainly knows on what side its digital bread is buttered. As directed by Tommy LeRoy, this blazing-fast one-act production covers a lot of ground with competence and its front-and-center nerdy viewpoint with particular bravado and exceptional skill.
Everything seems to be fair game in this world. The scenes have a grab-bag feel of comic premises and styles: riffs on one or more outlandish characters, pun-infested wordplay, heightened spins on real-life relationships, and a little parody thrown in for good measure. Rather than establishing and following rules, the production pays attention to the individual needs of each scene. Costume pieces and embellishments are introduced as needed; a soundtrack is added if useful and neglected if not. LeRoy keeps his set design scaled back; lighting designer Michelle LeRoy invests in a few distinctive cues, but uses them sparingly. Thus, the scene in which a tightly wound couple stiffly attempts to frolic on the beach works with both performers in basic black, but it also feels completely different from an imagined mudslinging political ad bolstered by super-patriotic production values. Shaking off one scene and burrowing into a new one in the blink of an eye, the show ensures that a joke is never far behind, keeping the viewer laughing as a means of acclimation.
In countless combinations and a tireless parade of characters, the show’s six performers play to their many strengths. In one scene, Suzan M. Jacokes finds a panicked cool in a crisis, but tangles visibly with her improbable disappointment when the threat level is far lower than she thought. As a foreign-born new girlfriend being introduced to the family, Genevieve Jona sells one malapropism after another with luminous confidence. Chris DiAngelo effortlessly takes hold of an entire scene with his grossed-out onlooker interjecting disgusting truths and heaving all along the way. Together, Lauren Bickers and Andrew Seiler cement a narratively complex arc with a sweet relationship that progresses in fast motion and pays off with a series of physical interludes. And for this former improviser, Chris Petersen cannot possibly top his tossed-off meta joke that pokes holes in a sketch comedy convention probably as old as the form.
What works best in this production is its all-out geeky content. The more specific and/or odd characters and scenarios are presented with true idiosyncratic pride — from academic nerds who don’t spend much time socializing out of the lab, to tech nerds embroiled in sly multitasking one-upsmanship at the Apple store, to parents whose film and pop culture geekery gives their protective instincts a hilarious spin. Similarly, the show’s framework intersects two kinds of geek fandom, throwing a real-life captain of industry into a comic book scenario; to give away more would ruin a spectacular visual punchline, but suffice it to say, the conceit is brilliantly straightforward and seamlessly executed. LeRoy and company later turn the premise into a victory lap of a conclusion that revisits many of the characters of the ninety minutes preceding it, giving the viewer a clear sendoff with an illuminating sense of how much ground was covered. The boldly weird points of view may be the pinnacles of the show, but on the whole, they’re the grace notes in a well-crafted symphony.
There’s an ebb and flow to iMerica, Brand That I Love, which counters run-of-the-mill content with towering and inspired heights of nerd-powered comedy. The production occupies the prime 8PM time slot on both Thursdays and Fridays throughout its run, followed on Fridays by the theater’s signature improvised show, Go Comedy! All-Star Showdown, and on Thursdays by more experimental scripted works. Through the month of September, the Thursday follow-up is the one-man show Jerks, directed by Pj Jacokes and written by and starring Ryan Parmenter. This thirty-odd minute multimedia production features Parmenter in a quartet of roles, with a bonus cartoon Parmenter as a comically nasty bumper between scenes. The characters build in hilarity, from a bitter cult leader to a crass, also-ran crooner, in a decent companion piece that melds stand-up and sketch for a quick and refreshing exercise in character work.
Through October, on Thursday nights — and breaking out for two weekend midnight performances — is the original horror-comedy Stage Fright. This juicy morsel of a script (by Pete Jacokes, Jen Hansen, and Bob Wieck) makes the most of its brief forty-five minute running time, capitalizing on both its onstage badness and offstage atrocities. What begins as an agreeably terrible adaptation of the Dracula tale by storied egotist Gideon West (Chris Petersen) turns dangerous; trouble begins to crop up during scene changes, until it’s clear that a larger plot is unfolding. From Eric Heilner’s undermotivated stagehand, to Carrie Hall’s mortified pretense of continuing the show, to Jeff Mansk’s sly deadpan contributions at the keyboard, to Jen Bloomer’s insatiable commitment (with revolting assist by self-described properties, gore, and costumes designers Jen and Ted Hansen), to Petersen’s unflappable obliviousness, nine performers in all make hay with the ample opportunities offered them by a lean but meaty script. Directed by Jacokes and Wieck, the production invites favorable comparison to the mother of all backstage capers: in the best conceivable way, the show feels like Noises Off with braaaains.
September 22, 2011