What’s Going On Here? It’s a Mystery

Period murder mysteries are so familiar you can almost predict the characters. Take the English countryside version, for instance. Chances are it will contain a hound-happy squire, his dotty, tweedy wife, a chauffeur who always has a bottle stashed in the glove compartment, and a retired British colonel whose mind and manner still reflect the Raj.

But move the crime to contemporary Southern California--Laguna Beach to be precise--and what characters would you expect?

Well, a devious developer would be a good start; land barons have provided convenient targets for authors at least well before “Chinatown.” Then, Southern California being the entertainment center of the world, a few media figures might seem appropriate. So toss in a brassy, self-aggrandizing television anchorwoman, an arrogant reporter from a top metropolitan newspaper and an author who makes millions off his exposes of the rich and famous.

The wealthy widow of this author’s latest target--a woman who, incidentally, doesn’t seem nearly as disturbed by the expose of her late husband as you might expect--and an alcoholic press agent who, for some reason, resents his client, might round out the cast. Finally, for a touch of innocence amid this surly set, why not give the writer a sweet, young thing for an assistant.

But is she really?

These characters, if fictional, are not hypothetical. They’re roles in “The Laguna Baron,” a contemporary murder mystery set in Orange County’s most famous artist community. The play is still going strong after 14 months. That may not rival the record of “Tamara” in staying power--yet--but it’s proof that the whodunit has not lost its appeal, especially when some new twists, such as taking the play to the streets and having dinner with the suspects, are thrown in.

Though its characters may seem as evocative of contemporary Southern California as heather and hounds are of Holmesian England, “The Laguna Baron” did not result from the playwright, Julio Martinez, having all these wonderful characters in his head just begging to be born. Even his wonderfully bitchy character Rhonda White was--though she would find this hard to believe--merely the solution to a problem.

The problem was presented to Martinez by Robert Brown, a partner along with Mary Upchurch in Upchurch/Brown Booksellers, and Jules Swimmer, the owner of Le Petite Gourmet.

Brown and Swimmer were looking for unusual ways to promote their respective Laguna Beach enterprises, both of which are located in the interior of the Lumberyard, a mall off Forest Avenue, and not highly visible from the street.

“Jules and I were having drinks one night--three-cocktails-later sort of talk--and we decided to do a mystery presentation together,” Brown says. “We thought it would be a way to introduce customers to the bookstore and the restaurant that would be fun both for them and for us.”

The two knew exactly what they wanted.

“We wanted a play set in current day Laguna Beach that would involve a bookstore (Upchurch/Brown), a restaurant (Le Petite Gourmet) and an art gallery (which varies)--the things people associate with Laguna Beach--a play that would get people out into the community, that had some reference to art, architecture and the history of Laguna, and we wanted the entire thing to be fiction,” Brown says.

Scriptwriters were solicited to provide these requirements, and Martinez, who acts as a publicist and feature writer for KCET when he’s not penning scripts, got the job.

Drafting an environmental drama is not like writing an ordinary play, Martinez says. “It’s more like solving a puzzle. You’ve got all these technical problems, and you start by providing solutions.”

For instance, you need a convincing reason for the audience to be at the bookstore in the first place. “A book-signing sounded like a reasonable premise,” Martinez says. And so the first character, Holden Edwards, expose artist extraordinaire, emerged.

A book signing seems so reasonable at a bookstore, in fact, that when audience members are handed a convincing press release at the door by Edwards’ smiling assistant, they may forget, momentarily, that they’ve just walked into a play.

Providing a rationale for moving the play from location to location was another problem. Having Edwards suggest re-creating the night of the Baron’s demise in order to uncover the murderer, a la Agatha Christie, was the solution. The audience is there to prevent further mayhem. (Though it may not succeed.)

So, primed with brie and crackers and liberal amounts of champagne, audience and cast take to the streets. Clues are presented at each of several locations--an art gallery, the post office and at a Laguna Beach historical marker.

Next stop is Le Petite Gourmet, the restaurant where Belden Kirkland (the Baron) received a mysterious phone call the night he was murdered. Here, along with an elegant roast chicken dinner, the audience is served more clues--and lots of red herrings--by circulating cast members. Finally, still chewing over their own private theories, all return to the bookstore for the mystery’s denouement.

With a play that moves off the stage and out into the environment and that provides opportunities for audience participation all along the way, cast members often find it necessary to deviate from the script.

Brian Mann, who plays the newspaper reporter and who strays from the script most often, explains how his role evolved into as much stand-up comedian as actor. “One of my roles as Nick Baker is to handle hecklers,” he says. “That wasn’t in the script; it just worked out that way. I guess I have a talent for it.”

It’s a talent audiences frequently encourage.

“You never know what to expect until you show up for a performance,” Mann continues. Audiences made up of 25 separate couples are the best behaved, he reports, but almost too quiet. Private parties, on the other hand, especially when fueled with pre-theater drinks, are something else again.

“From an actor’s point of view, they’re murder--no pun intended,” he says. “They’re determined to outdo the actors if it kills them. We call them ‘Audiences From Hell.’ ”

Unforeseen developments also demand quick script changes. One night, for instance, the proprietor of the art gallery neglected to inform her staff to remain open that evening, and the audience arrived to locked doors. Clue-providing props have also been swiped.

Watching the actors leap over these hurdles with graceful improvisations is a good part of the fun. And, if Martinez ever feels the least bit slighted for having his script trampled, having “The Laguna Baron” optioned recently by a television production company probably takes away the sting.

Likewise, if Brown did not get the high-toned evening he originally imagined, he’s no longer disappointed. “The play is very different from what I’d envisioned,” he says. “Frankly I had something a lot more dignified and literary in mind.”

But, it’s fortunate he didn’t get his way, Brown admits. “If I had, we’d never have lasted this long.”

The play, as it stands, is just good silly fun, he says.

“It’s nice hearing people’s laughter during the performances and watching their faces when they leave, knowing that they’ve just had a pleasurable, offbeat evening and they’re going to associate it with you,” he says. “It’s not bad being associated with pleasure.”

“The Laguna Baron” is presented Saturday evenings only. For information, contact Upchurch/Brown Booksellers at (714) 497-8373