I'd be terribly remiss if I didn't post a short blurb on Stories High, a series of short plays on its (unfortunately) last weekend at the fab Bindlestiff Studio. If the cast and crew could bottle the energy and enthusiasm in the tiny 'stiff space (the first night) and sell it, they'd be raking it in (with Kanye West stealing Max Romeo for Jay-Z on the soundtrack).
At the core of these six fine plays are the middle three. (The first, alas, is exactly what you'd get if you threw a bunch of unbearable stoner spoken-word macktivists in a room, Abigail's Party-style -- or better, No Exit.) Play number 3 -- the tense and well-acted "Borders," written by Conrad Panganiban -- nicely pulls the carpet from underneath the audience; the real trick here is not the dialogue, but the way the subdued emotional content of the acting suddenly makes a sharp, effective pivot into creepy territory. (It's also preceded by a romantic comedy of errors, which lulls the viewers into foolish complacency.) "The Rub," written by Ed Mabasa, while stretched out maybe a little too long, is pitch-perfect noir using the barest of essentials: gun molls, a McGuffin, a worn-out gumshoe, and best of all, dialogue that positively crackles with electricity.
Conceptually, the best of the lot was "Final Purification," written by Anton Delfino, which -- again, the sequencing is perfect, since it follows "The Rub" -- begins with a familiar sight: a bare table, a handcuffed prisoner (in this case, my former student Lyle Prijoles), a lamp swinging overhead. But I won't spoil the excellent Law and Order setup here; it's enough to say that it's devilish fun.
Stories High ends on a high farcical note with "Lucy's Kitchen and Alex's Garage," which can't exactly be described well, except that it involves The Honeymooners, eczema, two bobble-head figures (one is actually alive, but you'd have to watch it for yourself), Grease, a pair of Nikes, peppercorns in adobo, an unlikely suitor (in this case, my former student Paolo Silvestre, whose knack for singing and dancing I had no idea lurked within him), the sad lives of eBayers, and the Barrel Man. I can't evaluate the dialogue that well, I'm afraid; I couldn't hear all of it since the audience (and I) were breaking down in laughter.