Trigger Warning..
Should you provide the 'i' for "*"?? This slightly silly ditty with grave undertones is, at once a romp.. and the story of "what if."
Developed at the beloved Pacific Residence Theatre, HT rolls merrily along in present tense and at once with grave historical times, as well.
An odd dichotomy.
It's a time of innocence in the time of these Deutscher Madel in the Third Reich fueled by the somewhat annoying anachronistic conceit of bubbling teeny boppers snapping duck lips selfies.
Michelle Kholos Brooks's play moves quickly.
The rare occasion to use the term "flibberty gibbet" twice in the same twentyfour hour time period is rare. Ach du Lieber!! (See yesterday's review of NORA) The flibberty gibbets in this play have been selected to serve their country by having what 'he'' is' having. The 'tasters' are making sure der Furhur isn't being poisoned!
The playwright has created strong specific characters. Each woman brings an attitude that moves the argument along. A good start.
Selfies and blazing light effects become what is basically a sort of slumber party with bone china and gold cups and dialogue that ebbs and flows, but very little substance is on the menu.
The tiny upstairs Henry Murray Stage at The Matrix Theatre shoe horns in about 35 attendees, barely enough room for the cast. The discomfort of the odd 5PM curtain dissolve as the lights black out!! Now, we do our best to fathom the bizarre notion that der Furher actually employed women in this capacity.
Anna (Ali Axelrad) is the sensitive one. Hilda (Olivia Gill) is the bossy blonde and Liesel (Paige Simunovich) with her long braids is he peacemaker. They are later joined by Margot (Caitlin Zambito) and her intriguing red coat.
Interestingly, the simply choreographed activity of these young women; la la la dancing.. their stylized consumption of Hitler's veggie diet... all comes around to 'why?' Why they consumed entire meals seems odd.
Director Sarah Norris, is up against a tiny space for the bouncing activity with front row audience practically .. well pretty much ON the stage with the action.. yes there is action.. inches away. She presents the show mostly projected forward in the essentially, thrust situation. Site lines are sometimes a challenge.
Why?
I keep asking myself this question. The actresses are all just fine. Really.. But Why?
In virtually every episode of The Twilight Zone, there's always a twist that leaves the audience informed or nodding. H*tler's Tasters provides .. more or less.. that moment. But, again, why? It's a challenging exercise as the girls banter and time their possible Heavenly exit. The looming presence of the next meal . .looms. The boredom of just waiting and flipping back to selfies to share their boredom? I wish their phones had flashed and we'd somehow see the faces of the girls chosen to serve der Faderland. Projections of the pretty Aryan (mostly) women?
Why?
"Because!" That's why.
Because it's an exercise that may draw parallels between the blind devotion of people in 2024 enthralled with a 'hero' who poses like a dictator to their delight? Or, is it a look back with the caveat that blind devotion may lead down some primrose path to oblivion? This is a challenging piece of theatre. The actresses are all in .. all in the same play at the same time.. all believable to the extent that they are devoted to their roles: these hapless characters. It's an exercise.
I noted the man next to me taking copious notes. Presuming he's writing a review as I am now, I hope to read it to see what I may have missed.
The bottom line is .. for me.. to be as helpful and useful as I can to small theatre in Los Angeles. I love Rogue Machine and their devotion to trying stuff. An interesting touch is the preshow "check" by a crisp SS soldier (not credited) in his little office as we file past to mount the stairs to the neon cell where we are, like the cast, trapped for the duration.. that little office is perfect. The SS guard has a clip board. We all just ignordd him as we filed past. Had his authority been exercised: imposed!! that might have put us all on notice that we were being watched and counted.
oH*tler's Tasters