Rosenthal’s ‘Ur-Boor’ a Mission of Possibilities

In “Ur-Boor,” which repeats Friday and Saturday at the downtown L.A. Theater Center, the unmistakable Rachel Rosenthal imagines a scenario in which she’s shot into space against her will.

Her mission, assigned by a talking computer on board the spacecraft: Become planet Earth’s “Ur-Boor,” a human repository of vulgarity and bad manners. Maybe that will wipe Earth’s slate clean. Maybe Rosenthal, as she scans her own life while calling attention to the boorish ravages of the planet, can discern why as a species we got hung up on “manners instead of ethics.”

Alas, “Ur-Boor”--billed as Rosenthal’s final effort prior to retirement from solo work--remains at this early stage an indefinite maybe, desultory and diffuse. It has moments; it has some elegant designs, a touching fragment of “Danse Russe,” performed by Rosenthal (who learned it as a child). In the piece’s final seconds, the soloist establishes an image that sticks, without fuss: We see the 73-year-old Rosenthal staring out at an uncertain future, which she locates at a point just past the audience.

She’s effective in this moment of charged stillness. Too much of the preceding talk and action is a blur.

The space capsule confining Rosenthal during much of “Ur-Boor” is a nifty industrial affair resembling an alien bug’s rib-cage, designed by Guy Laramee. It emits all sorts of flatulent, hissing and clanging sounds. (The computer’s voice is provided by Michael Morrissey.) Not long into her “mission,” Rosenthal breaks the format to address the audience. She confesses she feels as though she had “no ideas left . . . no good body, no good voice.” She longs for tea and crumpets and “ER” reruns.

Then, unsatisfyingly, we’re plunked back into the scenario. Whatever happened to civility? That’s one line of inquiry. Another involves the price humans pay for heeding the matter of politesse above all else. Rosenthal paid it herself, growing up pampered, nannied and governessed in pre-World War II France, the daughter of Russian emigres.

“Ur-Boor” leans on themes recurrent in much of Rosenthal’s work, both as a soloist and with other members of the Rachel Rosenthal Company. Her solutions for a better planet include vegetarianism, eco-consciousness and an acknowledgment of organized religion’s bloody history. She has much to say here. Yet the work hasn’t solidified. The writing’s bluntly confessional passages (like its most conventional pee-pee-ca-ca talk) indicate inspirational duress rather than provocative riskiness.

As she tours and refines, let the work continue on what may be Rosenthal’s solo farewell.

* “Ur-Boor,” Los Angeles Theater Center, Bradley Auditorium, 514 S. Spring St. Friday and Saturday, 8 p.m. Ends Saturday. $10. (213) 485-1681. Running time: 1 hour, 25 minutes.

Rachel Rosenthal: Herself

Michael Morrissey: Voice of the Machine

Written by Rachel Rosenthal. Text consultant Kate Noonan. Directorial consultants David Schweizer and Stuart Miller. Scenic design by Guy Laramee. Music by Amy Knoles. Video by Douglas Thompson. Lighting by Yuki Uehara with Jeff Cain. Stage manager Tad Coughenour.