Stylized, Ribald ‘Massage’ the Latest Berkoff Medium

Steven Berkoff, dressed in drag in his play “Massage,” looks like an aging alligator. He’s supposed to be a British housewife who earns extra change in the sex trade, working at a dubious massage parlor. But any client who took one look at this “masseuse,” with her oily mien and smug glances, would probably run in the other direction.

Not that Berkoff is going for realism here. “Massage,” at the Odyssey Theatre, is a highly stylized cartoon. It’s funny but repetitive and somewhat retrograde, lacking the narrative development and the more universal situation that turned his “Kvetch” into such a long-running hit for the Odyssey.

Much of the comedy in “Massage” arises from setting long, ripe passages of spoken erotica against the grotesque visual imagery of the two actors--Berkoff’s Mum and Barry Philips, playing all the men.

Both actors are made up in white-face, so as to look more dehumanized and caricatured. They move with stark, angular movements, almost like mimes. With their look and their lower-class attitudes, they’re reminiscent of the people in Berkoff’s pre-”Kvetch” hit, “Greek,” but “Greek”--a revisionist look at “Oedipus Rex”--is a far more substantial piece.

“Massage” examines the double life of Mum. She gladly spends her afternoons on the job, then goes home to cook mush for her unsuspecting husband, Dad, who spouts vaguely racist tirades. Dad himself likes to go to establishments like the one where Mum works, but because he fears recognition, he seeks out more distant locations.

Most of the play consists of monologues full of rhapsodic, antique cadences. Berkoff is a whiz at ribaldry; those who enjoy sexually graphic literature might prefer reading “Massage” to watching it. In the theater, where you can’t stop when you’ve had enough, the sexual descriptions begin to seem endless. Also, these fantasies are very male-oriented; Mum doesn’t think much about her own body.

As the long one-act winds down, Dad decides to support his local massage parlor and discovers Mum.

Philips does yeoman-like duty in his several roles, though everything might be clearer if another actor played Mum’s other clients, leaving Philips to concentrate on his role as Dad.

For the record, here’s one play with no nudity to speak of--just a bare rear end. All the gritty details are simulated. And AIDS isn’t mentioned; when Dad frets that he may have contracted “some obnoxious sore” from Mum, she quickly--if not credibly--cites the presence of “sheaths” and doctors’ checks.

A soundtrack of syrupy strings enhances the irony, as does Don Llewelyn’s playful set and Roslyn Moore’s outlandish outfits for Mum. Berkoff directed.

* “Massage,” Odyssey Theatre, 2055 S. Sepulveda Blvd., West L.A. Wednesdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; most Sundays, 7 p.m.; March 23 and April 6, 2 p.m. Ends April 13. $18.50-$22.50. Running time: 1 hour, 35 minutes.