Dead Boys
There was a Q&A session after the musical Dead Boys written, directed and choreographed by UC Berkeley’s Joe Goode.
"It was amazing! How did you manage to infuse the performance with such moving elements?"
"Well, ahem, I was incredibly lucky to have found such a wonderful group of artists who understand the subtleties of Magical Realism."
I’m not quoting the exchange verbatim, but that’s what the Q&A session sounded like. It gave the impression that everything about Dead Boys was outstanding, wonderful, impressive, ground-breaking and deep.
Not what I saw. Dead Boys has two great elements. Monroe (Daniel Duque-Estrada) its engaging main character, and the musical’s youthful atmosphere. That said, the production has some major downfalls as well.
But first let’s look at the good. Daniel Duque-Estrada is quite believable as an anal-retentive and neurotic gay man with a good vocabulary and a fear of love. When Duque-Estrada discusses love and gender, an exiting communion between dialogue, direction, and delivery takes place.
And when he puts a camera close to his face for his Video-Art project (a big screen slides above the scenery) you get a sense of intimacy that is both cinematic and viral (as in YouTube). It’s a daring move from a narrative as well as from a visual stance.
The mood on stage is young, academic, and post-modern. A playful choreography and a spare set design that focuses on key elements (a couch and a big screen) create the right atmosphere for the play’s energetic and self-conscious characters full of identity issues.
Monroe’s roommate Brandon (Nicholas Trengove) seems suffocated by his macho asshole persona. His friend Carly (Rachel Ferensowicz) seems to change her name every time she reaches a new stage in her life. The dialogue is telling of the character’s issues while poking fun at gender identity concepts that have transitioned from Gender Studies departments to pop culture.
"I see, dude, you’re having, like, gender construction issues," the characters seem to state in many different ways, ironically analyzing their own psychological and social reality.
However, the production suffers immensely when so-called Magical Realism takes hold of the story. Supernatural elements are used to solve the character’s problems, advance the plot, and to be frank, destroy the musical from within.
Everything gets really blurry.
There is a New Age woman who also happens to be a white magic witch, Anna (played by Luras Dolas, who by the way has a great voice). This "good witch" lives in Monroe’s neighborhood and serves as a medium for an annoying young woman with whom the audience has no emotional connection whatsoever.
The annoying young woman gets taken over by a ghost or something and screams some advice/directions aimed at Monroe. The directions, which are related to a dream Monroe had at the beginning of the musical, somehow solve his neurosis. That’s the end.
Instead of taking the harder but more effective route to explore the characters’ gender problems--that is, creating emotionally-impacting events for them to deal with--Dead Boys takes the easy route: the artificial insertion of Magical Realism in an otherwise psychologically believable musical.
Magical Realism is a term Joe Goode employs. Though it really is somewhat out of context. Originally, in the novels of Latin American writers García Márquez and Alejo Carpentier, Magical Realism referred to the seamless conjunction of everyday events with magical events. It referred to unity, not to artificial juxtaposing.
Which takes me back to my original point: did I go see a different musical than the masterpiece talked about at the Q&A session?
Dead Boys, staged by UC Berkeley’s Theatre, Dance, and Performance Studies Department plays through Oct. 18. For more information visit the theater’s website
