Advertisement

San Diego’s ‘Lizard’ Rides the Storm of the Doors’ Enduring Myth

Share
TIMES THEATER CRITIC

Hallucinatory 1960s rock can find happiness on the stage, if it goes through the theatrical equivalent of rehab--without losing its soul in the process.

The success of “The Who’s Tommy,” albeit more critical than financial, got a few folks thinking about other rock gods-go-legit possibilities. Among those folks were the creators of “Celebration of the Lizard,” a futuristic tale hung on the peg attached to the Doors.

For the record:

12:00 a.m. May 31, 2000 For the Record
Los Angeles Times Wednesday May 31, 2000 Home Edition Calendar Part F Page 2 Entertainment Desk 1 inches; 23 words Type of Material: Correction
Photo credit--The photo from the play “Celebration of the Lizard” that ran in Tuesday’s Calendar was taken by Ken Jacques. The credit was inadvertently omitted.

“Celebration of the Lizard” made its world premiere Sunday at the San Diego Repertory Theatre. Judging from its rousing sing-along finale, a reprise of the irresistible “Light My Fire,” this silly, derivative, rather sweet nostalgia trip will likely click with San Diego audiences.

Advertisement

Behind those San Diego doors, though, lie a lot of revisions. If the show’s makers want to break on through to the commercial side, that is.

For all the great, good and less good music heard in this two-and-a-half-hour fable, despite the strongest triple-threat performers--the ones who can sing, dance and do that lizardy tongue-flicking thing--”Celebration of the Lizard” is at this point a reverential wallow in Doors mythology. It’s a paradox, heavy and slight, treating its antihero like the second coming of, well, of lyricist/vocalist/rock god Jim Morrison, the Duke of Debauch, the Viceroy of Venice Beach.

In the title poem, which appeared on the Doors’ 1970 album “Absolutely Live,” Morrison wrote of “lions in the street” and snakes and lizards and running with the hunt. The imagery evoked a post-apocalyptic Los Angeles, and from its ashes, a new world rising.

*

“Celebration of the Lizard” librettist Joel Lipman has spun a story designed to accommodate 33 Doors songs. Time: Near future. L.A.’s a stinking, fetid, fascist Hole of Hell, divided into “sectors.” A neon sign flashing “Obey” dominates the stage; off to the right a cutout depiction of L.A.’s City Hall hangs in midair.

A black-leather poseur known only as the Stranger (Jeff Meek) is chosen as society’s savior, someone to lead the huddled masses to a place--mythical or real?--known as Arden. The Stranger doesn’t want the job, but he accidentally kills a policeman, turns fugitive and then, reluctantly, becomes the shaman with the plan.

Driving through the desert he meets the Queen of the Highway (Karole Foreman). Together they mix it up with members of the Tribe, a cadre of city-survivors led by Antonio (Baruti). Antonio and his special friend, the Blue Lady (Alysa Lobo, sporting blue hair and bell bottoms), sense a rival leader in the Stranger. Aided by mystical visions, the Stranger is encouraged by the Highway Queen and Lizard Woman (Michele Mais) to “dare to speak the truth.”

Advertisement

Completing his graduate studies in becoming a Lizard King, the Stranger is soon offering the desert band vague campaign promises to “break on through” (“We’ve tried to run . . . we’ve tried to hide”). Finally, with Antonio vanquished, the Stranger leads everyone back to L.A. and, borrowing a ship supplied by El Capitan (Danny Peck), they set sail. “Keep your memories, keep your songs--that’s all we’re taking with us,” the Stranger says.

Unfortunately, he says this while wearing what appears to be Jerry Seinfeld’s puffy shirt.

You get distinct vibes during “Celebration of the Lizard”: an “Escape From New York” vibe followed by a “Mad Max” vibe, followed by a brief “Zardoz” vibe. The showdown between the Stranger and Antonio recalls Sam Shepard’s “The Tooth of Crime.” Librettist Lipman and director Sam Woodhouse take everything very seriously. Lipman’s book scenes tend to go on.

*

But it’s fun to hear the music again. Arranger and orchestrator O-Lan Jones has done her homework, and the five-piece band provides plenty of the familiar Doors sound, particularly in John Ballinger’s and Steve Snyder’s keyboards, in homage to organist Ray Manzarek. (Manzarek served as artistic consultant on this project.)

Meek can do only so much to make the Stranger a fresh protagonist--he’s all attitude and insolence as written--but he throws himself impressively into the task. Foreman and Lobo fare best, and not simply because they can pull off the bullet-studded halter top and the bell bottoms. Ken Roht (as a hitchhiker and a snitch) lets loose, not often enough, with a great voice for this sort of rock/theatrical hybrid.

The hybrid in question remains pretty unwieldly, one that recycles an already recycled set of archetypes. The Stranger is Shepard’s “rock ‘n’ roll Jesus with a cowboy mouth,” plunked down into “Mad Max” country. Lipman and Woodhouse buy into the Lizard King myth hook, line and sinker, the way Oliver Stone did in his gassy 1991 film.

There’s plenty of theater in that myth; Morrison was, after all, into Artaud, the Living Theatre and Kurt Weill. At this point, though, “Celebration of the Lizard” is hampered by the very story it chooses to tell. Too often, this tale of the man who would be lizard king is just down-time between numbers.

Advertisement

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

* “Celebration of the Lizard,” San Diego Repertory Theatre, Lyceum Stage, 79 Horton Plaza, San Diego. Tuesdays, 7 p.m.; Wednesdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 2 and 7 p.m. Also 2 p.m. this Wednesday, June 14 and June 28. No performance 2 p.m. May 28 or 7 p.m. June 27. Ends July 2. $30-$37. (619) 544-1000. Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes.

Jeff Meek: The Stranger

Karole Foreman: Queen of the Highway

Danny Peck: El Capitan

Michele Mais: Lizard Woman

Baruti: Antonio/The Cop

Alysa Lobo: Blue Lady

Ken Roht: The Hitchhiker/The Spy

Melody Butiu: The Gatekeeper/Baby

Ramon McLane: Righthand

Joey Molina: Night

Written by Joel Lipman. Lyrics and music by Jim Morrison, Ray Manzarek, John Densmore, Robby Krieger. Directed by Sam Woodhouse. Music arranged and orchestrated by O-Lan Jones. Choreography by Gina Angelique. Scenic design by Alejandro Luna. Costumes by Tolita and Maria Figueroa. Lighting by Trevor Norton. Sound by Peter Hashagen. Fight direction by James Newcomb. Stage manager Delicia Turner.

Advertisement