STAGE REVIEW : Pierce Dresses Up Balcony Theatre

It’s unfortunate that the tradition of female impersonation has come on such hard times. In the case of Charles Pierce, the present-day use of the label fails to acknowledge both the scope and the creativity of his work. His own typically whimsical descriptions--”Stand-up Comedian in Dress,” “Master/Mistress of Disguise” and “Satirist in Sequins”--far better describe the art of this unusual entertainer.

Tuesday night Pierce, accompanied by pianist Michael Ashton, opened a two-week run at the Pasadena Playhouse’s Balcony Theatre in a one-man show titled “The Legendary Ladies of the Silver Screen.” It was, for the most part, a staged version of the cabaret act he has been piecing together for decades, with large segments devoted to take-offs on Tallulah Bankhead, Mae West and Bette Davis.

His boozy, boisterous Bankhead (“What? This isn’t an AA meeting? Then pour me a drink!”) was a tour de force in which Pierce made his points from both inside and outside the character. His Mae West had less substance, verging dangerously close to an uneven, stand-up comedy routine.

Best of all was Pierce’s Bette Davis--a superb visual and aural study, rich with wide, flashing eyes, endless puffs of cigarette smoke and herky-jerky, elbows-akimbo jaunts across the stage. As with Bankhead, the essence of Pierce’s inventiveness lay in his ability to devise a dramatically believable image, while simultaneously evoking the fun and the frailty of the character.

Other moments sparkled in bits and pieces--hilarious variations on Maria Montez, Maria Ouspenskaya and Gloria Swanson; an uncostumed, un-wigged, but on-the-mark send-up of Carol Channing (who was in the audience, responding with a loud cheer).

Holding everything together was Pierce’s quick-witted, spontaneous commentary on anything and everything. (After a particularly raunchy remark he quickly ad-libbed, “Well, I guess we can forget about the National Endowment grant!”) As effective as his impersonations were, it was the support provided by just such sardonic humor and dramatic timing that made Pierce’s performance singular.