Douglas Carter Beane’s comedy “The Little Dog Laughed” contains a flawless mix of blistering satire, beguiling characters and – dare we say it – unexpected but real heart. That last part slipping in as the riotous play has nearly departed pulls together Beane’s complementary strands of devastating Hollywood mockery and insightful relationship politics.
In the new production, which opened Sunday at the B Street Theatre’s B3 Series, the often risqué comedy delighted the audience as its characters careened from salacious barbs to hesitant honesty. Narrated by the acerbic theatrical agent Diane (Kathryn Morison) archly slicing and dicing Beane’s pointed commentary, the story unfolds from the playwright’s experiences in Hollywood.
Beane’s 1997 hit comedy of manners, “As Bees in Honey Drown,” garnered him significant interest from big film types. As comically demonstrated in “Little Dog,” they ardently suggest “improvements” for its transfer to the big screen, such as making the play’s gay main character straight and giving him a female love interest so the multiplex-bound story can resolve in a recognizable heterosexual happy ending.
Such are the suggestions Morison’s Diane “negotiates” to the unnamed, unseen playwright whose newest work could make a big star of her prized client, a handsome, rising movie star named Mitchell. And if Mitchell were a big star, Diane would be very happy and very wealthy.
Diane’s problem is that Mitchell has this problem of “recurring homosexuality.” Both Diane and Mitchell understand that his private sexual interests and their professional career goals are at odds.
Kurt Johnson’s Mitchell is a finely rendered realistic complexity. Not particularly able to admit his sexual sensibilities to himself, Mitchell cautiously, then carelessly, pursues a call service hustler whose services he has drunkenly engaged. Patrick Alparone’s Alex, a male prostitute who is equally in denial, meshes a melancholy, intelligent vulnerability with a quick, street-wise intensity. Elana Wright as Ellen, Alex’s erstwhile girlfriend, completes the play’s quartet as a brightly quipping but sadly lonely Brooklyn hipster.
When Alex pretends he hasn’t been with Mitchell, Ellen scolds him, “Alex, we don’t have friends, we are both far too snotty for that.”
The play takes place mainly in New York City through a series of interlocking monologues and overlapping scenes connected by Diane’s no-holds-barred commentary.
Director Elisabeth Nunziato’s sympathetic understanding of the script’s strengths – its invigorating irony and daring emotion – brings both elements equally into sharp focus.
It’s not hard to ridicule Hollywood, but Beane just uses that platform as starting point for a deeper, hysterically entertaining and surprising poignant look at personal values and public compromises.
Cannonball Adderley and old Al Jolson radio shows in my earbuds. I don’t know. My wiring is muddled.
