STAGE REVIEW : Mother and Daughter Play for One Too Many Laughs

What do you say to a Jewish mother bursting with pride over her genius daughter? Don’t put your daughter on the stage?

That won’t do. Comedian Lotus Weinstock already has--not only on the legitimate stage, in “Molly & Maze” now at the Eagle Theatre, but also on the “illegitimate” ones. Weinstock’s real-life daughter Lili Haydn (who plays Maze) has been in a collection of TV shows and films, and now has a starring role in “The New Gidget.” Why not? This is Hollywood 1988. Lili’s beautiful, bright, talented and a superb musician. No wonder Mother is having such a hard time letting go.

That’s essentially what the personal, if not autobiographical, “Molly & Maze” is all about: Lotus/Molly working on giving up Lili/Maze who’s all grown up and needs to get going. So Molly does all the talking and Maze makes all the sense.

Act I is a garrulous, self-involved, Jewish-neurotic Friday dinner at home (the play’s funnier subtitle is “Desperately Seeking Sabbath”) in which the child ends up being mother to the mother. Act II consists entirely of Weinstock’s stand-up comedy routine.

Iconoclastic and frequently hilarious it is, but a play. . . . ?

“Molly & Maze” is a thinly veiled mother-daughter therapy session passing for a play. Weinstock’s mouth is an automatic weapon firing endless one-liners; Haydn smiles and works that violin like an angel. You laugh and you listen a lot. But nothing moves.

Heaven knows the exchanges are familiar terrain, and Weinstock is nothing if not a certifiable dingbat, but the piece itself is a shambles--a non-piece, an excuse--all quips and Weinstock’s nightclub act, with maternal Angst and bumper-sticker homilies (funny ones) plastered all over the stage.

You have to admire the chutzpah of so much reckless love and self-confession (vanity, thy name is Mother) or sheer, unabashed pride that can deliver lines like, “I’ve made her so universal, there’s no cemetery for us.” But Weinstock is also relentless.

“She’s the only successful long-term relationship I’ve had,” she says with a wistful edge in her voice, and you begin to see why. Weinstock is well-meaning, cajoling, clever and unrelenting.

This entertaining/overwhelming therapy-cum-comedy is encased in a pretty pink apartment (Act I) and a stark nightclub setting for the club’s Belly Room (Act II). Both are designed by Deborah Raymond and Dorian Vernacchio.

Tracy Newman staged with unflagging energy, but then what choice would she have with someone as unstoppable as Weinstock?

It’s an evening and a half that would be better if it were just an evening.

Yet even at this length, there’s still gold to be mined. Weinstock may well be too much of a good thing, but she’s the genuine article: a very bright, very funny woman. Don’t be daunted; just be prepared. As Molly would tell you: Enjoy.

Performances at 182 N. Robertson Blvd., Beverly Hills, run Thursdays through Saturdays, 8 p.m., Sundays 2:30 and 7:30 p.m. Ends June 12. $15-$18; (213) 466-1767).