Hunting Humans

Produced by J. Bryan McMillen & Mary Tucker for the West Coast Ensemble.

Say, when was the last time you had a night out with the boys? If it has been a while and you want to see what your old chums are up to, but they happen to be out of town this week, the best substitute may be Hunting Humans by Richard Thompson, a play packed with energy, at the West Coast Ensemble.

Eye-blinking is out of the question when Rev, Fick, Jay-Mac and Lump get together. These guys banter at the speed of light, and their body English has to be seen to be believed. Yes, Thompson is very much a playwright in the David Mamet vein, with sentences that seem both hopelessly stale and marvelously fresh at the same time, along with assertions that begin, are interrupted, and go on forever.

The plot has four longtime buddies gathering in a private room at an Atlantic City casino, responding to the invitation of Gin Rickey, who has been dead for several days. Director Claudia Jaffee keeps the action at a pell-mell pace, and has an ear finely tuned to Thompson's deceptively stylistic dialogue. Hunting Humans is involving from beginning to end, with a superb cast and never a dull moment.

The paradox of ensemble acting is on display here. The better these actors work together, the more exciting they are as individuals. Take Rev, for instance, the paranoid physician now hooked on pills. Describing himself as "beeper illiterate," he seems to be preaching to a world unwilling to listen to obvious truths in an obvious effort to beat him into a constant state of frustration. Frankie Como, complete with New Jersey goatee, is like a nuclear dynamo whose energy feeds upon itself. Handsome Robert Gantzos as Jay-Mac, the gambler, is a man who strikes us as almost bright, but hopelessly compulsive. His days are definitely numbered, and it is a shame, because like everyone of these men no matter what their weakness, we feel we have met their ilk before and found them ridiculously sympathetic.

The coolest of the four is laid back Michael Cole Dinelli as Fick, the calm eye in the middle of the storm. He anchors the evening like a 10-ton boulder, even though a surprising number of his speeches contain only one word. He does not do much talking, but what he says is choice. Completing the foursome, God help us, is Lump the actor. Jerry Kernion, a dead ringer for Fatty Arbuckle, plays him with a kind of innocent wistfulness. He is like a goldfish swimming with sharks, and when they turn on him, he simply has no defenses. To watch Kemion move is a treat in itself. His belly dance is a little masterpiece, but when he crosses or takes a moment to dwell on some inner notion, his body speaks eloquently and nary a word is needed.

David Wisniewski's set design could be a bit tackier, but for all we know the folks back in Atlantic City may be more restrained than those in Las Vegas. Credit him for providing a splendid playing area for four acting champs. Joe Damiano's lighting design is shrewd. David Mark Peterson's sound design is an asset. Kernion's fight coordination is well designed, but the execution could be a bit sharper. Fick would look even stronger if Jay-Mac put up more resistance. These old buddies play rough, knocking off a bellhop in the course of the action, but what is a little homicide among friends? Relax and enjoy the trip to Atlantic City, and one of the most entertaining evenings Los Angeles has to offer.