The Rice Thresher (Houston, Tex.), Vol. 77, No. 11, Ed. 1 Friday, November 10, 1989 Page: 11 of 16
sixteen pages : ill. ; page 19 x 15 in.View a full description of this newspaper.
Extracted Text
The following text was automatically extracted from the image on this page using optical character recognition software:
THE RICE THRESHER FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 1989 11
Will Rice College presents two dramatic delights
BY RODNEY GIBBS
C
onfusion. Insecurity.
Distress. Loneliness. This is
what we feel, but also what we
fear. These weaknesses drop
our masks, leave us vulnerable,
and force us to assume the de-
fensive. Will Rice College
presents two comedies, The
Actor's Nightmare and Beyond
Therapy, which acutely exploit
these characteristics in an at
times touching but always witty
fashion.
The Actor's Nightmare is a
play within a play, starring a
goofy accountant (George) who
finds himself mysteriously
plopped backstage of a theater
moments before show time. His
confusion begins as he discov-
ers he is expected to lead
several plays which are to be
presented simultaneously. While
onstage, George finds all the
other cast members know their
parts perfectly and demand the
same of him. However, by the
time he realizes which play he is
in and fumbles to utter anything,
an entirely new play begins.
From Private Lives, to Hamlet,
to Checkmate, the bewildered
accountant struggles to say
anything (from a mutilated
Shakespeare soliloquy to the
Pledge to the Rag) while humili-
ating himself on stage before a
full house.
Doug Farry, as George,
presents his state of constant
confusion well, and Lexi Bam
bas, as several of George's co-
stars, is particularly strong as a
cunning, arrogant debutante.
The fact that nearly the entire
play is actually a series of over-
acted and sometimes silly plays
creates an awkward sense
which greatly adds to George's
insecurity. Resembling a badly
over-dubbed, Japanese version
of "Hamlet Eats Tokyo", D. J.
Morris wonderfully over-acts
Horatio for the most hilarious
scene of the play.
Stirring loneliness with
confusion, Beyond Therapy is
an incredibly strong comedy with
remarkably witty dialogue. The
play focuses on two lonely
hearts, Prudence and Bruce,
who resort to the newspaper's
personal ads to find their ideal
loves. Instead, they find each
other. Prudence is insecure and
conventional and secretly fears
becoming an old maid. Bruce is
an admitted bisexual who does
his best to follow his impulses
and speak his mind. From their
first meeting, the two clash.
Bruce is so open that he
compliments her breasts and
cries in front of her, while
Prudence resents his bi-sexual-
ity and lack of conventional
masculinity. Faced with yet
another failure in love, the two
retreat to their analysts. Their
therapists add fuel to Pru-
dence's fiery traditionalism and
Bruce's flaming uniqueness,
which in effect increases their
alienation. However, on a
second meeting, the two slowly
begin to see beyond each
other's labels, and find they
may be more compatible than
they imagined.
Mark Anderson plays Bruce in
Characters in Will Rice production are Beyond Therapy.
an incredibly believable manner.
His portrayal is extraordinary
and provides a solid foundation
for the other actors. Rachel Kay
and Brian Hill, as Bruce and
Prudence's therapists, both
deliver hilarious performances
of two doctors who may be in
more need of treatment than
their patients. Portraying an
overly stereotypical homosexual,
Ben Lynch pulls through very
strongly as Bruce's unstable
lover. Debbie Tucker, a bit
towered over by Anderson,
nonetheless performs convinc-
ingly as the confused, withdrawn
Prudence.
The two comedies are well
prepared and contain witty
dialogue. Beyond Therapy steps
above The Actor's Nightmare
due to its convincing acting and
clever storyline. However, the
confusion, dread, and angst of
both plays successfully combine
to form a nearly superlative
double feature.
Norse adventure abounds in Erik the Vil<ing
BY HAROLD
BUNNIEMEISTER
^he
Ihe image of the Viking is
usually a rather romantic one.
Tall, helmeted men girded with
shoulder pads and jock straps.
The crunching of bone echoing
off the sides of an 80,000 seat
arena. The quick flash of
pigskin on an expansive field of
green crisscrossed with white.
Numbers like 43 and 00. Foes
like the Giants. The Raiders.
The Cowboys. Fearsome
animals like Lions, and Bengals,
and Bears, oh my.
But alas, this was not the
image I had in mind, so strike it.
The Vikings I'm thinking about
are the big smelly guys with the
horns in their helmets. The fat
lady in the opera. Little boats
that discovered America before
the Donald Trumps did*., Guys
who spell their names with a 'k'
instead of a 'c'. Long beards.
Fur coats. Get the picture?
Tim Robbins is Erik the
Viking. Unlike his friends who
are more preoccupied with
smashing their fists into other
peoples' faces, Erik is a sens'h
tive Viking. He doesn't mind the
plundering and pillaging, it's the
raping part that he has a
problem with. However, after a
small philosophical chat with a
woman who was to be the
unwilling recipient of a Nordic
sausage, he begins to wonder if
the other stuff isn't such a good
idea after all.
Unfortunately, his cohorts
aren't quite so cerebral, and
would much rather get while the
getting's good. To his surprise,
he actually springs to her aid. To
her surprise, he not only makes
shish kabob of her attacker, but
well, next to every kabob,
there's a tomato. So much for
the intellectual discussion.
Resolved to find the solution
to Norway's perpetual bad
weather and the cause behind
the recent escalation in your
general sax and violins, Erik
visits an old mystic woman who
happens to live where the
mystics usually live, high up in a
cave. She explains to Erik that
one of the nastier beasties has
eaten the sun or at least
covered it up—thus beginning
the "Age of Ragnarok." His
mission, should he choose to
accept it, is to get a special
magic hom, wake up all those
Wagnerian gods, and put an end
to all the mayhem on the earth.
That and start a worldwide
epidemic of skin-cancer.
To the disbelief of his fellow
Vikings, Erik manages to recruit
a motley crew to accompany
him on his quest. I should
mention here that the part
where he must wake the gods
entails crossing the Rainbow
Bridge
Valhalla for a couple of
brewskis. Trouble is, only dead
people are supposed to cross
the bridge, no exceptions, no
"answer me these questions
three."
His faithful crew is rather
amusing and includes a Chris-
tian who has trouble seeing
most of what his fellow travell-
ers see because they have a
different belief system, a father
and son team aptly named
Berserk, and a blacksmith who
would see his livelihood disap-
pear should Erik be successful.
To slow down the journey, the
blacksmith's assistant Loki
notifies evil villain John Cleese
of the quest. Cleese sets sail in
hot pusuit, but has a little
trouble finding Erik in the fog
that enshrouds the dragon of
the North Sea.
Erik and his crew barely
escape certain death from a
dragon's sneeze to find them-
selves aground on the very
island that is the home of the
magical hom and the worst
singers in the world. This
Utopian island comes complete
with the comely Imogen Stubbs
who takes a liking to (and takes
to bed) our leader Erik. Maybe it
was his name.
Just about when everything
looks peachy, Cleese shows up
to spoil things. Erik goes out to
fight him in a cloak of dubious
magic, and is wildly successful,
but not without some losses.
After a bit of celebrating, good
ol' Loki spills a little blood to
prevent Erik from blowing the
magical hom, and an ancient
spell is broken, causing the
island to drop to the bottom of
the sea, along with a disbeliev-
ing King and his people.
Stubbs is saved by Erik and
she gets to blow his hom.
With another blow, they
awaken the gods, who appar-
ently have been taking quite a
siesta. Since he's there, Erik
makes a few requests like can
you fix the weather, stop the
killing, and give me back the
woman I killed. Odin then
breaks the news that not only
are they unable to stop the
warring of men, but oh yes, you
can't take your lady friend with
you, and since you are mortals,
you'll all have to go to hell!
Of course they survive, and
even bring back some of the
dead, and, heck—Erik got to
keep Imogen Stubbs, who was
much cuter anyway.
While this little chronicle of
Viking life may have been
intended for younger audiences,
rt was directed by Terry Jones
and is definitely Pythonesque in
its sense of humor. Skip out on
Monday Night Football for once
and check out these Vikes.
Check in at the
SUNDAYS AT CLUBLAND
WITH DX GEORGE LOCKE
Rock, New Music, Houston Music, Alternative
$1.75 Bottled Beer & Shots
18 & Older / Doors at 9:00
1201 WESTHEIMER 529-7444
Upcoming Pages
Here’s what’s next.
Search Inside
This issue can be searched. Note: Results may vary based on the legibility of text within the document.
Tools / Downloads
Get a copy of this page or view the extracted text.
Citing and Sharing
Basic information for referencing this web page. We also provide extended guidance on usage rights, references, copying or embedding.
Reference the current page of this Newspaper.
Kahn, Greg & Leedy, Sarah J. The Rice Thresher (Houston, Tex.), Vol. 77, No. 11, Ed. 1 Friday, November 10, 1989, newspaper, November 10, 1989; Houston, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth245734/m1/11/: accessed July 18, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Rice University Woodson Research Center.