THEATER REVIEW
“All Childish Things”
Grade: D
Through Oct. 27. 8 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays (excluding Oct. 23); 2:30 p.m. Saturdays-Sundays; 10 a.m. Wednesday (Oct. 23 only). $16-$30. Aurora Theatre, 128 E. Pike St., Lawrenceville. 678-226-6222, www.auroratheatre.com.
Bottom line: Decidedly dull.
Take it for whatever it’s worth that “All Childish Things” is every bit as accomplished a play as the dimwitted characters it involves.
Joseph Zettelmaier’s comedy follows the antic exploits of a group of buddies and overgrown “Star Wars” groupies. With no greater purpose in life and little better to do with their time, apparently, they scheme to rob a multimillion-dollar toy company of a highly valuable booty of “Star Wars” merchandise.
Whether they’re scarcely more than bumbling criminals is open to debate. To hear them tell it, their actions represent a sort of “epic heroism,” an opportunity to “take something back” and otherwise “fix everything” about their humdrum lives. Whatever. In any event, predictably enough, the warehouse heist goes awry — or, as one of them might put it in “Star Wars” lingo, “all Jar Jar on us.”
As it happens in “All Childish Things,” it’s also open to debate whether the show is necessarily ripping off George Lucas, the mastermind behind the whole “Star Wars” franchise, or simply riding on his coattails. Zettelmaier drops a lot of names and inside jokes, but that alone isn’t sufficient to give his play “stage cred.”
“Star Wars” followers range far and wide, to be sure. They may get more of those references, but the real measure of success shouldn’t be only how well the show appeals to its built-in fan base. It’s also about how funny or engaging the story is to those of us who wouldn’t know Jar Jar Binks from Jabba the Hutt, or the true significance of a rare Boba Fett action figure sans helmet. On both counts, the comedy falters.
In a galaxy far, far away (Lawrenceville, that is), director Scott Warren’s Aurora Theatre staging looks like a product-placement paradise. Designed by Tommy Cox, the set is a messy makeshift basement apartment, lined with movie posters and littered with all manner of other “Star Wars” memorabilia, right down to strings of R2-D2 and C-3PO light fixtures.
But the production drags at a lackadaisical pace from the outset, without a very genuine sense of humor to begin with, and then climaxing without much legitimate tension or excitement. There’s nothing particularly endearing about these sundry slackers to really warrant our concern when things inevitably turn against them.
The poorly written roles are passably portrayed by Michael Jared Tarver, Bryan Brendle, Cara Mantella and Enoch King (whose fleeting Chewbacca imitation is good for a couple of smiles, at least). After a considerable buildup, Rob Cleveland finally appears as a slick mobster (and, natch, avid “Star Wars” collector) who’s hardly the menacing Darth Vader type he needs to be.
At the end, it remains to be seen if these obnoxious geeks learn any lesson about growing up and putting away such childish things. After all, has Lucas? With Lucas having cashed in on his franchise by almost every conceivable means over the past 35 years, Zettelmaier’s play probably serves Lucas right — albeit in a most wrongheaded way.
