O.C. THEATER REVIEW : Wit Meets Wordiness in Funny ‘Be^te’

Style in acting almost became a lost art in this country. In his memoirs, director Robert Lewis remembers Shelley Winters asking him, “Bobby, when are you coming back [to New York’s Actors Studio] to teach us sty-ull?” Lewis answered, “As soon as you can pronounce it in one syllable, Shelley.”

The fact that style has been paid more respect in American theater training in recent decades makes it possible for actors, and directors, to experience the joys of plays such as David Hirson’s “La Be^te.”

Hirson’s very serious 1990 comedy--about how easily flash and dash can be confused with genius--celebrates language, offers rococo flights of imagination and gives performers a chance to fly over a theatrical rainbow, beyond their kitchen sink, to a world where poesy reigns.

Director Chuck Ketter’s production of “La Be^te” at the Vanguard Theatre gives Hirson’s play a proper framework and the rarefied style it requires. He has also cast, in the two major roles, actors who have an intuitive sense of style.

Elegant and classy playwright Elomire (Robert Shaun Kilburn) is attached, with his troupe, to the court of Prince Conti. But the Prince has found a street performer named Valere (Sean McNall), whose florid idiocies and rank plays such as “Death From Cheese” impressed him so much he is forcing Valere’s services on Elomire.

For “classy playwright” read “theatrical establishment,” for “street performer” read “performance artist,” and Hirson’s message is clear. Without form there is no sense and, ultimately, no communication. Elomire’s forte is clarity; Valere’s forte is pretension. It takes a very funny while for Elomire to prove his superiority to the Prince.

Kilburn and McNall are naturals for the style this requires. Kilburn’s stoic rantings against the intruder have Beethoven’s grandeur; McNall’s intricate gingerbread of self-serving froth is as detailed as Vivaldi. And, if the musical references seem odd, Hirson’s intellectual intent is much the same as Peter Shaffer’s in “Amadeus.”

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Like a Vivaldi “ stravaganza ,” McNall’s first-act monologue--which practically is the first act--is a baroque verbal confection that builds upon itself, dividing and combining like a linguistic maze that Valere never seems to be able to exit.

Both actors revel in the fun and delicacy of their roles, and their supporting cast is not far behind. Robert Knapp is very funny as Elomire’s hunchbacked cohort, Bejart, James Cude even funnier as the dim bulb of a Prince Conti, and Cheryl Etzel as the maid, whose adolescent whim is to speak only in monosyllables that rhyme with “blue.”

Sarah Lang, Mike Matthews, Jacqueline Genow, Matt D’Amico and Sophia Antonini have little to do in their brief appearance as members of Elomire’s troupe, but they do it well.

Hirson and Ketter’s conceit of costumes from several eras (designed by Michelle Eden) is also an inside joke about directors who paste concepts on a script without concern for the author’s intent. Along with everything else in the show, it’s very funny.

* “La Be^te,” Vanguard Theatre, College Business Park, 699-A S. State College Blvd., Fullerton. Thursday through Saturday, 8 p.m.; Sunday, 5 p.m. Ends Aug. 5. $12 to $14. (714) 526-8007. Running time: 2 hours, 10 minutes.

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Robert Shaun Kilburn: Elomire

Sean McNall: Valere

Robert Knapp: Bejart

James Cude: Prince Conti

Cheryl Etzel: Dorine

Sarah Lang: Madeline Bejart

Mike Matthews: Renee DuParc

Jacqueline Genow: Marquise-Therese DuParc

Matt D’Amico: DeBrie

Sophia Antonini: Catherine DeBrie

A Vanguard Theatre production of David Hirson’s comedy, produced by Terry Gunkel. Directed by Chuck Ketter. Scenic design: Michael Keith Allen. Costume design: Michelle Eden. Lighting design: Benjamin Baird. Stage manager: Kristen Walters.