"THE FAMILY OF MANN," Backstage Theatre Company at the Cornelia Arts Building
BY LUCIA MAURO
Theresa Rebeck’s caffeinated tragicomedy, "The Family of Mann" – based on her experiences as a TV-sitcom writer in the early 1990s – reinforces what most of us already know about the business in L.A. A soulless, hypocritical writing-by-committee mentality hovers over an entertainment fiefdom rooted in ego, self-invention, power and money – made all the more ironic against a backdrop of shows that aim to promote contrived "family values."
The Coen Brothers’ Hollywood-themed film, "Barton Fink," aptly illustrated how writers in L.A. are merely commodities. As the movie mogul barked, "There are a million writers out there who could give me that Barton Fink feeling."
So "The Family of Mann" does not break new ground in the endless genre of personal Hollywood horror stories. But it does stand out for its sharp, unselfconscious writing and an astute game-playing theme that can apply to any profession or relationship. Rebeck (who was not entirely jaded, considering she went on to write for "NYPD Blue" and "Law and Order") presents us with a dramatized survival kit for negotiating the power-mongering and spirit-crushing that threaten most of our daily lives.
Plus she presents a cogent argument that puts into blunt perspective the ability for the much-revered theater realm to churn out material more banal than your average televised junk food.
Backstage Theatre Company, a dedicated company based at the warehouse-like Cornelia Arts Building in Ravenswood, delivers a solid, heartfelt and hilarious interpretation of a script that, besides appearing dated, could come across as a naïve attempt at sour grapes. Rebeck’s play also is about 20 minutes too long and includes rather hackneyed angel/apocalypse imagery.
Yet director Jamy Lynn Harpole emphasizes honest performances that move along in the fast-snippet pace of a TV sitcom, with the quirky and earnest Jennifer Marschand exhibiting understated yet fiery star power as Belinda – the college professor-turned-sitcom writer who refuses to play the L.A. power game.
In "The Family of Mann," Belinda ventures to Hollywood with idealistic visions of TV as "a campfire around which we tell stories." Initially encouraged by the show’s megalomaniacal producer Ed (Chris Maher awash in a potent mixture of smarmy warmth and ice), Belinda soon spends long sleepless night writing meaningful episodes for the title TV series. But her logic and talent quickly threaten the dysfunctional sham of the writing committee – mostly hide savers who expend more energy kissing up to Ed than honing their craft.
After dodging gibes at her Ph.D credentials from her competitive teammates (so used to marking their territory, they’ve stopped being human), Belinda learns that maintaining one’s integrity in a business that balks at scruples gets her fired. Even her romantic relationship with fellow writer Ren is destined for disaster in a place where career advancement demands constantly shifting loyalty.
The moral center of the play is the much-abused African-American production assistant/secretary Clara, who comments on the absurd Hollywood food chain while eventually getting devoured by it and ultimately saved in the end. Throughout "The Family of Mann," the actors rotate between the central writing team and the actual sitcom characters, which adds another dimension of humiliation from the equally ridiculous TV acting perspective.
Again, the play does not tell us anything new about Hollywood’s survival-of-the-fittest mantra. Nor does it acknowledge much of the true artistry, as well as a glimmer of redemption or integrity, that can be found in the industry. But Rebeck reminds us of the mixture of well-placed talent, tact, tactlessness and steely resolve needed to make it in any field.
Other exhilarating Backstage performances include Joseph Cella as the subtly psychotic TV-sitcom director Bill, with his carrot-red hair and funky Hawaiian shirts; Barbara L. W. Myers as the irrepressible Clara; and Tom Schorsch as a hokey sitcom character called Uncle Willy. Scenic designer Deanna Zibello’s typed-script backdrop aptly immerses us in the power and pitfalls of words. •
Backstage Theatre Company’s production of "The Family of Mann" runs through April 6 at the Cornelia Arts Building, 1800 W. Cornelia (at Ravenswood). Tickets: $10-$15. Call 312-683-5347 or log onto www.backstagetheatrecompany.org.
