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Friday, October 31, 2008
‘The New Century’ @ Actor’s Express
THEATER REVIEW. “The New Century.” (Grade: B+) 8 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays; 5 p.m. Sunday and Nov. 16; 2 p.m. Nov. 9. Through Nov. 22. $23-$27. Actor’s Express, 887 West Marietta St. N.W., Suite J-107, Atlanta. 404-607-7469, actors-express.com
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mr. Charles (currently of Palm Beach) is so outrageously gay that he was asked to leave New York. Looking like the love child of Quentin Crisp and Divine, he wouldn’t be caught dead without several applications of bronzer, his peach-colored coiffure and his diamond rings.
When Mr. Charles is not hosting his late-night cable show, “Too Gay,” he can be found playing sugar daddy to his vacuous boy-toy Shane — or shocking the general public by lapsing into episodes of homosexual behavior that he calls “nelly breaks.”
As played by Don Finney in the Actor’s Express production of Paul Rudnick’s “The New Century,” Mr. Charles is a formidably camp figure in an evening that operates on vivid, outsize personalities.
In what is surely one of the funniest shows of the fall season, director Alan Kilpatrick has assembled three of Atlanta’s best comedic minds, who mine their characters’ raucous personalities for glimmers of tenderness and heartbreak. Looking at love and sexuality from the point of view of mothers and children, Rudnick pairs Mr. Charles with Long Island battleship Helene (LaLa Cochran) and Midwestern fruitcake Barbara Ellen (Shelly McCook).
Though Rudnick’s play kind of falls apart as he attempts to piece it together at the end, the three monologues that begin the story are priceless.
Impeccably manicured and coiffed, Massapequa Jewish matriarch Helene finds herself in the absurd position of having three gay children: lesbian tennis player Leslie; son Ron, who gets a sex change operation, only to discover he’s a lesbian; and pride and joy David, a doctor who turns out to be into leather, bondage and scatology. Cochran is a riot.
But if Helene’s life is an open book, crafts wiz Barbara Ellen can’t even say the word “gay.” The mother of a son who died of AIDS, Barbara Ellen has sequestered herself behind a mask of scrap-booking, cake-baking competitions and the wonderful world of sequins and pipe cleaners. In a performance that is as poignant as it is loopy, the actress pushes her wide-eyed character to the point of mistiness. But it’s a tribute to the caliber of McCook’s art that she never gives into the mawkish or maudlin. She’s superb.
Annie York has a minor part as the young mother Joann, and Stan Gentry plays Mr. Charles’ boyfriend, Shane. In this evening of bravura performances, Gentry is the weak link. Yes, the part is poorly developed — his character visits Ground Zero and ends up having an epiphany in a clothing store — but Gentry’s giggly hyperventilating goofiness only takes him so far.
As the story ends in a hospital maternity ward, Rudnick juxtaposes the old order with the new, expressing a hope that the younger generation will be blessed with kindness and understanding. It’s not a very original or profound commentary. But it’s a big-hearted and wickedly funny play. And make no mistake: They broke the mold when they made the fierce and fabulous Mr. Charles.
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