Review: ‘Arguendo’ puts a deft, audacious spin on a Supreme Court argument

It seems safe to say that when the U.S. Supreme Court heard Barnes v. Glen Theatre in 1991, it couldn’t have foreseen the rampant hilarity, intellectual heft and kinetic amazement of “Arguendo,” now at REDCAT through Sunday.

By applying the same inventive principles that distinguished its acclaimed epic F. Scott Fitzgerald transcription “Gatz” to a landmark case involving strippers’ 1st Amendment rights to dance naked, the ever-incisive Elevator Repair Service scores an unlikely yet memorable victory, and in just 80 minutes, at that.

Turning the oral arguments regarding Indiana state law, constitutional precedent and public nudity into a simultaneous re-creation and multidisciplinary, um, interpretation, this endearingly audacious company uproariously turns jurisprudence on its head while shimmying the deeper questions being raised squarely into ours.

Under the light-fingered direction of John Collins, whose SCOTUS-junkie status began in 2005 from the challenges in getting the rights to “The Great Gatsby,” “Arguendo” unfolds in a gradually accelerating manner pitched somewhere between Peter Sellers on nitrous oxide and Ernie Kovacs gone postal.

Tucked within the velvet curtains and constructivist ramps of designer David Zinn’s set, a sterling five-member ensemble -- the collaborative creators of the piece, per Elevator Repair Service’s process -- takes on William H. Rehnquist’s 1990-91 court and the specific case before it with uncanny physical precision and delirious satiric investment.

Before three stately office chairs upstage and the first of video designer Ben Rubin’s astounding projections, the wonderful Maggie Hoffman greets reporters in prologue as Rebecca Jackson, a Michigan exotic dancer who has come to Washington, D.C., in support of South Bend’s Kitty Kat Club.

And why? “It’s the message that I want to send ... a message of sensuality.”

Few words can do justice to the subtle turns of Hoffman’s daffy spontaneity or the droll reactions of her colleagues, who shift roles throughout with a combination of control, synergy and abandon that defines the place where craft becomes art.

As when fervent Ben Williams, as petitioner’s counsel Mr. Uhl, increasingly swivels and bobs at his central lectern to the constantly ante-upping antics of Mike Iveson, Vin Knight and the priceless Susie Sokol, who alternate all nine justices between them (along with Williams).

This tactic can occasionally confuse, but mainly it soars, due to the actors’ skill at instant characterizations and forward propulsion through the legalese.

Indeed, the incongruity of high court judges seriously talking about pasties and G-strings, nudity and artistic freedom (Justice Scalia fixates on opera, for example) goes far to keep our brains from numbing.

And the escalating sensory overload ignites once Iveson fearlessly assumes the role of respondent’s counsel Mr. Ennis, at which point the faux-gravitas of the delivery melds with the innate absurdity of the most circular arguments, often for the sake of argument.

Which is, after all, what the titular Latin term means, and where the deeper questions at play -- conduct versus expression, art versus experience, free speech versus legislated morality, and so forth -- sneak into our cerebellums by way of the high performance mayhem onstage.

This reaches a feverish climax wherein near-balletic slapstick, hairpin turns of attack, including Hoffman’s efficient Supreme Court Aide, and male full-frontal nudity converge to riotous effect.

Credit Collins and his adroit troupe, with Sokol’s epilogue appearance as Ruth Bader Ginsburg touching and hysterical at once, and certainly Rubin’s remarkable, constantly refracting videos of the actual transcripts, which assume a dizzying, dancing life of their own.

So does Mark Barton’s here-crazy, there-austere lighting, Jacob A. Climer’s off-the-chamber-rack costumes and Matt Tierney’s superb sound plot, the nods to Richard Strauss and Gilbert and Sullivan particularly choice.

“Arguendo” may not be the most highly ambitious work Elevator Repair Service has done -- that would probably still be “Gatz,” if not 2008’s “The Sound and the Fury.” Yet, given the daunting challenges inherent in giving form and tone to the text at hand, it’s inarguably a nakedly vital, unabashedly entertaining theatrical experience. Good luck getting a seat. This court is adjourned.

“Arguendo,” REDCAT, 631 W. 2nd St., Los Angeles. 3 and 8:30 p.m. Saturday, 3 p.m. Sunday. Ends Sunday. Mature audiences. $25-$40. (213) 237-2800. Running time: 1 hour, 20 minutes