A plutonium human-experiment in the living room of Wisconsin dairy farmers may be the product of a community college student-film…or a hastily scribbled Sam Shepard political penny-play.
The God of Hell (directed by Amy Glazer) provides a short political comedic thrill-ride.
Yet for Bay Area residents – self-proclaimed, die-hard, left-leaning liberals – the message comes a day late and a dollar short.
With its tradition for premiering new plays, San Francisco's Magic Theatre has been a comfortable home for Shepard's work, including The God of Hell, his response to the then-pending 2004 presidential election.
Fighting the harsh winter winds of the Heartland, Emma scuttles about watering her plants as her heifer-herding husband Frank polishes boots on the overstuffed sofa.
Aside from the guy in the basement, (who may or may not be involved in torturous research), it is an idyllic American household.
Nothing out of the ordinary…until Welch, an over-zealous patriotic salesman barges in.
Anne Darragh as Emma gets pulled through the action, lost wildly in the absurdity but trying her best to get a grip of the situation.
Darragh is great in her continual flip-flops between stalwartness and befuddlement, experiencing each new wrench in the gears with the audience.
A strong woman and wife, Emma does not betray her morals or husband amidst the behemoth of backwards truths Welch pummels.
What the hell is going on in her house?
Michael Santo (Welch) excellently bursts into the quiet home with a token Texan accent, squinted eyes feigning sentimentality.
Relentlessly, he hawks "banners, whistles, parade equipment, fireworks, complete with a brand new re-mixed CD of Pat Boone singing the
Battle Hymn of the Republic."
Bush, party of one?
The 70-minute play unfurls itself carefully at first.
The ridiculousness of the interactions between Welch and Emma provide a few good chortles.
Familiar news headlines ticker across your mind's eye as Welch snakes his way into the comforts of Emma and Frank's home.
But the dialogue later between Welch and Hanes (Jackson Davis), a government test-center refugee from Rocky Buttes, can get a bit cantankerous, circling without settling.
By the second act, there isn't much room left for subtlety.
Audiences searching for a script oozing metaphor won't find one.
When a man in a black hood with wires attached to his groin stands center-stage, you get the picture pretty easily.
"You didn't think you were going to get a free ride on the back of Democracy forever, did you?" asks Welch, "Well, did you? What have you done to deserve such rampant freedom?"
Set designer, Erik Flatmo, cleverly transformed the Magic Theatre stage into a fully-functioning kitchen, complete with a working sink, refrigerator, and oven range (upon which bacon is cooked!) Also stimulating were the sparks of static electricity produced when anyone touched Hanes.
After spouting trigger words like "American-made," "beheaded," "border-crossing," and "dependency for foreigners," Shepard's point has come across loud and clear.
But do we care? With the already established Blue State distaste of neocon-ism and the unfortunate growing apathy for our current state of war, what more does
The God of Hell have to add?
Ultimately, how do you prefer your daily slap of reality…from a Sunday paper or from a few hours of live theatre?
The God of Hell, a political satire by
Sam Shepard and directed by Amy Glazer, is running through October 22 at the Magic Theatre, Building D, Fort Mason Center, San Francisco. Tickets ($26-45) are available at 415-441-8822 or visit
www.magictheatre.org.
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