High Energy Wears Down ‘Imperialists’

Long before he became one of America’s hot theatrical numbers, historian-turned-playwright Charles L. Mee concocted a kind of nuclear-meltdown variety show called “The Imperialists at the Club Cave Canem.”

Ideally, you might catch the 70-minute explosion now at Evidence Room before or after something else, on maybe five hours’ sleep. It’s a dance-intensive goof that does all the work for you, comprising three bedroom conversations, mundane and postcoital, preceded by musical numbers--Mee’s text refers only to unspecified “performance pieces.”

These are the dominant elements in Evidence Room’s production. Original songs include “Burning Rubber,” “Sex Street,” “Funny Artist Fellow” (in which the performance art vibe is made explicit) and a cowboy lullaby titled “Sleepytime Guy.” There’s also a prologue consisting of the Cinderella story, told by Pamela Gordon with more than a few letters out of place.

A sample sentence: “My son the pransom hince wants all the giligible earls to sly on the tripper.”

Put it all together, and by design, it comes apart. Mee’s text premiered in New York in 1988, all six pages of it.

(It’s available at https://www.panix.com/~meejr/imperialists.html.)

Evidence Room’s West Coast premiere, staged by Bart DeLorenzo, imparts a sense of American culture falling all over itself to entertain, in a Weimar-meets-Austin Powers go-go setting.

The choreography by Ken Roht is propulsively silly and fairly inventive in its raunch, performed by members of the Orphean Circus. (Teigh McDonough’s a standout in the movement sequences.) If the result is more interesting than funny, DeLorenzo’s weirder images compensate. At one point, a man opens a newspaper that, due to a live sound effect and a puff of smoke, appears to explode from within. A funny, chilling moment.

The show’s rhythm errs toward predictability, which sounds strange for such a wild outing. You wouldn’t mind a change-up or two; Mee’s script amounts to a somewhat studied lark--pillow talk followed by dadaist freak-out, and then another bedroom scene.

“Often I hear something and I remember it and I think it happened to me,” says one character. That’s history in one sentence, according to Mee. The imperialism angle remains oblique in “The Imperialists,” but as consumers, we hear stories of imperialism and terrorism and faraway places we choose not to comprehend. And then we appropriate them, while the beat goes on.

*

“The Imperialists at the Club Cave Canem,” Evidence Room, 2220 Beverly Blvd. Fridays, 8 p.m.; Saturdays, 8 and 10 p.m. Ends Oct. 13. $15. (213) 381-7118. Running time: 1 hour, 10 minutes.

Pamela Gordon, Colleen Wainwright, Tobias Baker, Lauren Campedelli, Leo Marks, Dorie Barton, Aaron Case, Ames Ingham, Gary Kelley, Wendy McClellan, Teigh McDonough, Carlos Mora, Ken Roht, Don Oscar Smith, Will Watkins, Kirk Wilson Ensemble

Written by Charles L. Mee. Directed by Bart DeLorenzo. Musical sequences directed and choreographed by Ken Roht. Original tracks produced and arranged by John Ballinger. Scenic and costume design by Robert A. Prior. Lighting by Rand Ryan. Stage manager Connie Monaghan.