I entered the comforting lobby of the Whitefire Theatre in Sherman Oaks, received my press kit and took a seat near the window. The house opened in about 20 minutes, so I struck up a conversation with the man sitting a couple chairs away.
He asked me where I was from. "South Florida," I told him. He went on to tell me how he lived in Miami for many years but eventually settled in Los Angeles. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I was talking to Gordon Bressack, the writer/director/producer of MURDER, ANYONE?, the show I was about to watch. He mentioned his son always questioned him about doing plays in L.A. when the bigger theater scene was on the east coast. Bressack always felt L.A. was more than just a city for film.
And that is exactly the premise of MURDER, ANYONE? Two playwrights, George (Jack Zullo) and Charlie (Devin Caldarone) open the one-act show at a desk filled with a Big Gulp, a MacBook and severAl Smaller books arranged in a pile. To the left on a wall sits a whiteboard with character names written scrappily with a black marker: "Richard," "Bridgette." In the lower, right-hand side is a drawing of Pinky and the Brain, which is possibly paying homage to Bressack, who won three Emmys for his work on that show and "Animaniacs."
George and Charlie, dressed casually in jeans and T-shirts, are average adult males who still find the word "titter" laughable. Zullo and Caldarone are complete opposites both in and out of character. Zullo wants to make their play into a movie, while Caldarone would rather keep it as a play. The two scruffy men (Zullo a brunette, Caldarone a blonde) encapsulate the typical artists found in Los Angeles: They each have a thousand different ideas and are not sure where to start. The two are very personable and relatable and bring their characters to life very vividly. They may bump heads now and again, but their humor and zany opinions are what help them (possibly) persevere.
As they bounce ideas back and forth, the spotlight turns from them to the larger section of the stage, where the audience sees the boys' writing come to life.
The spotlight pans to center stage as George and Charlie struggle to determine Richard's (Abraham Smith) character. Richard (soon to be renamed Cooper) changes from a happy-go-lucky tennis player (imagine someone who just left the courts of the Beverly Hills Tennis Club) to a conniving character that is definitely hiding something. Smith was easily one of my favorite actors. His beats were not only on time, but his facial expressions and characterization of Cooper also made a bloodthirsty human quite comical.
Bridgette (Liesl Jackson) is a rich girl who reminded me of Cher from "Clueless" but is educated and does not rely on her family to get further in life. Bridgette has her flaws, but is a noteworthy character nonetheless. I liked Jackson's performance and how she made Bridgette into a no-nonsense woman with a dry sense of humor. In a way, she was almost empowering. The relationship between Jackson and Smith's characters may seem in sync at first, but it becomes as far-fetched as the show itself.
As the play progresses, we are introduced to Blaine (Bruce Clifford), who - to the delight of the audience - wore a chicken suit for the duration of the play, claiming he thought the scene was a costume party. It was my first time seeing a man dressed up in a full-blown chicken suit in a show before, and Clifford played one wonderfully. He became the chicken by picking up the animal's mannerisms and playfully delivering his lines to an uproarious audience.
And then there was Marie Clements (Carla Collins). As a French, blind medium, Clements ultimately created a séance to help rid Bridgette and Cooper of their demons. However, it was not the séance that made Clements my favorite character; it was the delivery by Collins. Named "Comedian of the Year" by the Southern California Motion Picture Council, Collins proved why she earned that title. From her impression of a French woman (which, to me, sounded very authentic) to her emulation of what is actually a crazy, outlandish psychic (and her full-blown split during curtain call), Collins stole the show. I had uncontrollable laughter any time she was in a scene.
Throughout MURDER, ANYONE?, we see the collaboration between George and Charlie start to strengthen despite George's cry to turn the play into a movie. It was an ongoing theme and struggle that constantly tormented the boys, but in the end, only one could turn out victorious.
What I truly enjoyed about this production was how Bressack staged the show. The house itself was intimate and sat about 90 to 100 people. The turnout Wednesday night was spectacular, in my opinion, and it made the room rumble with laughter because of Bressack's witty writing and directing. It is sometimes hard to stage a show where some of the characters are situated on one side of the stage and the other characters are on the other side; it can be reminiscent of a tennis match. However, the stage was the perfect size for Bressack's idea. I loved watching the dynamic between George and Charlie change as their play ultimately gets worse, and I loved seeing their thoughts and comments come to life via the four other actors. I had never seen a show laid out like MURDER, ANYONE?, and I hope it will not be the last.
If you are looking for a mid-week activity that is sure to make you rumble with laughter, go see MURDER, ANYONE? It runs every Wednesday now until June 7 at 8 p.m. at the Whitefire Theatre (13500 Ventura Blvd. in Sherman Oaks), which has air condition, heat and is wheelchair accessible. General admission tickets are $25. Senior, student and group tickets are $21. May 17 there will be a Q & A following the show. For tickets, email murderanyone@brownpapertickets.com.
Please allow 20 minutes to park. Ventura Boulevard does have metered parking (until 8 p.m.) as well as some of the streets north and south of the theatre. Residential parking is restricted, so be sure to read all parking signage. Augustine Wine Bar (right down the street from the theatre) offers $9 valet parking until 11 p.m.
Photo Credit: James Sprague
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