Heart-Rending Treasure — 'The Baby Dance' at Lounge Theatre, Hollywood

In his "Poor Theatre" treatise, Grotowski spoke of the power of true theatre — live performances so real, so rapturous, they couldn't be matched by the onslaught of the multibillion dollar entertainment combine. Nowhere is the Machine more visible than in LA/Hollywood; and right here, in the womb of it all, at the Lounge Theatre on Santa Monica Blvd., is the living embodiment of Grotowski's greatest hopes. Jane Anderson's The Baby Dance, expertly directed by David Johann Kim, starring a matchless cast of LA theater vets, is the kind of art that transcends time, place, and budget constraints to clutch your soul and remind you why theatre was invented.

The situation is simple: a "rich" Hollywood couple cannot conceive, so they post an ad seeking a newborn to purchase adopt. A "poor" Louisiana couple, unable to afford the kids they currently have, decide to sell give up their unborn progeny, for the sake of both the child's and their well-being. Yet, as in life, such simple tasks turn out to be anything but when the infertile Rachel flies to the other LA. She has to know whether the air conditioner she paid for has been installed, and that the pregnant Wanda is living up to the latest, greatest standards of prenatal living. A white-on-white culture clash ensues leaving no one unscathed, least of all the audience. I mean, for nondescript-non-religious-spiritualist-god's sake, Wanda drinks tap water and Cokes, eats processed meats, individually-wrapped cheese, canned fruit, and refuses to take prenatal vitamins... Can. You. Imagine.

Each second of the ladies' first in-person meeting is fraught with palpable tension; Rachel, aghast at the conditions in which "her" beloved child is incubating; Wanda, biting back her animus for the uppity witch who's glaring down her nose while answering prayers. As Rachel, Baby Dance producer Lisa Clifton is a refined powerhouse, gracefully personifying all the charm, class, timidity, and sugar-coated condescension for which her character is loathed. Donning a pregger belly and an excellent Southern timbre, Rebecca Sigl is extraordinary, living out Wanda's tortured existence with unwavering believability.

Once the story's men arrive, the redlining tension manages to ratchet even higher. Al, the unabashedly lecherous, proudly racist poor dad arrives late from Lawd-knows-where, short a few cans of a recently purchased 12-pack. Still, somehow, Rachel's motherly desperation lends her the confidence to deflect his advances and question him about the misused finances. Shawn Parsons is marvelous as the Pabst-swilling Al. The wheeled, one-room dump seemed to shrink under the power of his quiet menace.

At the top of Act Dos, David Fraioli and Jeremy Lowe burst in with super-charged energy, their rat-a-tat dialogue delivered at Sorkin speed. They're big-time city slickers alright, far outta place in the humid Big Easy state. Without drawing blood, they manage to hash out the last-minute contractual details with Al as Wanda gives birth down the hall. Fraioli's fear and frustration at this impossible situation are incendiary. His lamentation about how his late father would be ashamed of him — and his bit about how he'd rather suffer everything all over again for a child unmaimed during birth — are especially gripping. Lowe is excellent as the rich family's lawyer, mining all the bravado, humanity and humor in his cameo. The faux karate stance he took while breaking up the rich-dad-poor-dad scuffle about killed me.

The production design is relatively modest, but makes great use of the Lounge's limited black box space. (I especially appreciated the realistic, directional sound design; few things theatrical are as lame as hearing a whoosh behind you when someone flushes a toilet on stage.) But hey, they could've gone straight Grotowski, performed on a bare stage with a single bulb as the only effect, and the production wouldn't have suffered a bit. These actors could do this piece in a Waffle House parking lot and it'd still deserve a standing O.

"The Baby Dance" continues at The Lounge Theater #2 until April 7. Fridays and Saturdays at 8 pm. Sundays at 7 pm. Get your tix here.


LA theater reviews by LA Theater Critic.