STAGE REVIEW : High-Concept Cattiness Shreds Luce’s ‘Women’

The very idea of reviving that old chestnut “The Women” by Clare Boothe Luce seemed quirky at best, but certainly intriguing. Could this 1936 ode to cattiness and the self-destructing power of idly malicious gossip be turned into something that might speak to women today?

Director Anne Bogart (who picked up an Obie Award on Monday for her staging of “The Baltimore Waltz” at the Circle Repertory Theatre earlier this year) evidently thought so. And, about a quarter of the way through her production of “The Women,” which opened Wednesday at the San Diego Repertory Theatre’s Lyceum Stage, her intent and methodology become clear, even if the tools used to deliver the goods are found wanting.

This high-concept production is an angry, ironic look at powerless, angry women hopelessly hemmed in and defined by men. Where Luce had drawn up a sophisticated blueprint for a comedy of elitism furiously and vengefully at work in high places (Manhattan skyscrapers), Bogart has chosen to deconstruct this iconography in a broadly stroked, primary-color cartoon of the play, with period and other songs added. What she may not have banked on (a sadly apt choice of words under the circumstances) is having to do it on no money and with a company of actors that can rarely rise to the occasion.

Bogart has claimed in interviews that this challenge was exhilarating, and Rep producing director Sam Woodhouse gave reverential thanks Wednesday to a lengthy list of local theaters and commercial enterprises that had bailed out this production by loaning or donating everything from paint to pianos.

It was reminiscent of nothing so much as the Los Angeles Theatre Center’s last-gasp efforts to stay in business last fall, refusing to knuckle under to the fiscal dung heap by tackling large-cast “important” shows with no-cast resources.

Playing it safe is a theatrical oxymoron, surely, and theater can survive without certain accouterments. What it can never do without is talent, a commodity found only erratically in Bogart’s “Women.” All the high concept in the world won’t substitute for the ability to lend it expression. It’s like having a good idea for a story and no command of a language in which to write it.

On a huge stage, with a high-gloss black floor, mirrored doors and walls that emphasize vastness with the use of diminishing perspective (the designer is Victoria Petrovich), Bogart throws out her players like so many pawns on a chessboard.

They flail more or less where they fall, scrambling gleefully through the play, with nary a thought to giving it shape or satirical edge. The effect in the end is one of high-school thesps whooping it up for parents. Broad strokes are one thing, finger-painting gone wild is another.

Of Bogart’s 16 players and a pianist (Marta Zekan; this is an all-woman production both on and behind the scenes, with musical director Michael Roth the lone exception), roughly seven have a sense of what they’re doing, and these don’t entirely break down along union membership lines.

Dell’Arte Players’ terrific Joan Schirle, in assorted minor roles, sets the standard for what this kind of acting should be: clownish, clever and rigorously disciplined. Almost as sharp are Linda Libby’s vaudevillian-style, forever-pregnant Edith and Susan Gelman’s vivid Miriam Aarons, both part of the clawing “in” crowd.

But Regina Byrd Smith epitomizes the sloppy, self-indulgent approach evident in too much of the production. Her Sylvia is a bad Martha Raye imitation, while Karenjune Sanchez, in her screechier moments, evokes a berserk Bette Midler. Big Barbara Chisholm, in a choice variety of tidbits, merely confuses bullying with acting.

Among roles not as broadly burlesqued are Eleni Kelakos’ controlled, arrogant haughtiness as the vixen Crystal (she can also sing well and does) and Darla Cash’s injured Mary Haines. The latter has the requisite dignity if not much magnetism. Lorna Raver is a pragmatic Mrs. Morehead without unnecessary frills, and Amber Rae’s maid, Jane, has an understated pertness that livens up her scenes.

Bogart’s boldest bit of casting is Sandie Church, a little person, as Mary’s daughter, Little Mary. As startling (on purpose) as this is at first, one accepts it as Bogart’s perception of the seriousness children bring to situations trashed by the corrupt adults around them. Nice idea that doesn’t work. Church seems a lot happier in a later cameo as hat-check girl Sadie, where she can vent her talent more freely.

A footnote: Bogart has created a “stage manager” role to deal with props and recite stage directions, then thrown it away on a tall, gangly political science graduate of San Diego State University who, by her own admission, decided to “jump into . . . the theater.” Despite owning the highly theatrical name of Sandra L’Italien, she should jump right out again unless she is prepared to learn how to act.

This instance, in a minor way, is emblematic of what ails this brazen, brave, irritating, important failure. You can make found-object theater (Cathy Meacham Hunt’s collection of wondrous costumes attests to it), but you can’t do it with talent as randomly found.

“The Women,” San Diego Repertory Theatre, Lyceum Stage, Horton Plaza. At 8 p.m. Tuesdays-Saturdays, 2 and 7 p.m. Sundays. Ends June 6. Tickets are $16-$22. Call 235-8025. Running time: 2 hours 45 minutes. Darla Cash: Mary Haines Linda Libby: Edith Potter Regina Byrd Smith: Sylvia Fowler Karenjune Sanchez: Peggy Day Linda Castro: Nancy Blake/Model Eleni Kelakos: Crystal Allen Sandra L’Italien: Narrator/Princess Tamara/Debutante Amber Rae: Jane/Pedicurist/1st Girl Joan Schirle: 1st Hairdresser/Cleaning Woman/2nd Saleswoman/Miss Trimmerback/Countess’ Chauffeur/Dowager Barbara Chisholm: Olga/1st Saleswoman/Maggie/Nurse/Cigarette Girl Roxane Carrasco: Euphie/2nd Salesgirl/Miss Watts/Helene/2nd Girl Dochia Knox: Countess De Lage Susan Gelman: Miriam Aarons/1st Salesgirl/Exercise Instructor Susy McWilliams: Miss Fordyce/2nd Hairdresser/Fitter/Lucy/2nd Society Woman Sandie Church: Little Mary/Sadie Lorna Raver: Mrs. Morehead/1st Society Woman Marta Zekan: Pianist A San Diego Repertory revival of the 1936 play by Clare Boothe Luce. Director Anne Bogart. Sets Victoria Petrovich. Lights Brenda Berry. Costumes Cathy Meacham Hunt. Musical direction/arrangements Michael Roth. Dramaturge Wendy Arons. Stage manager Susan A. Virgilio.