PRINCESS BRIDE:
A Royal Hit
by Sr. Dana van Iquity, Bay Times 01/05
>> back to the main page

Everyone’s favorite fairy tale novel has been made into a movie. That’s old news. But the good news is that they have both been made into a play stage by Impossible Productions at the refreshingly intimate Dark Room Venue. I am speaking of none other than the classic The Princess Bride by William Goldman, which has been brilliantly adapted by Cameron Eng and magnificently portrayed by a tremendously talented ensemble of actors. Direction by Eng and co-director Jim Fourniadis is practically flawless. And the amazing part is that this bigger-than-life story is mounted on a miniscule postage stamp-sized stage with almost no scenery but plenty of props. Speaking of which, props go to some of the cast who oftentimes double and triple their parts. For instance, Laura Drus is Eva, a lackey, a booing old woman and Valerie; Patrick Biggs is Aluthra, the stunningly gorgeous woman, a lackey, Yellin, Miracle Max and the archdean Priest; and Seanetta is a suitor, Vizzini, and an albino.

One of the joys of the Dark Room is its encouraging patrons BYOB freely and without guilt. A jar of martinis is my personal recommendation. Just don’t bring in noisy foods or crackly wrappers, because the seating is so small that the actors on stage can hear you make the slightest noise. Rude.

During the show, various schmaltzy tunes (for instance the Bee Gees’ “It’s Only Words”) and mood-establishing music (the themes from Jaws and Thus Spake Zarathustra aka 2001) play to get the audience in the mood for delightfully corny, sappy story that will appeal to the hardest of hard core cynics and melt their frigid little hearts. The Grandfather (played quite convincingly by Don Wood, with the perfect old man’s crackling voice) stands down stage right on a tiny structure no bigger than a milk crate, where he acts as narrator, reading from Goldman’s intriguing novel, occasionally adjusting his glasses to read, and then looking into the eyes of different audience members to gauge their reactions. We the spectators play the part of his captivated grandson (who was a very young Fred Savage in the movie) listening to the constantly evolving spinning of the tale. Immediately the cunning Grandfather whets our appetite for adventure with a brief but tantalizing synopsis: “What a story! Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monster, chases, escapes, true love, miracles—it has everything!”

I defy anyone to get up and leave his or her seat after all that. Well, actually you CANNOT get up and go to the bathroom, since that area automatically becomes backstage when the show is rolling. We are even warned that this is our last chance to visit the restroom. Pee or die, people! Grandfather expounds how Buttercup the bride-to-be becomes more beautiful by the passing months under the spell of true love; although at first she is rather ragtag for a would-be princess. For much of the story her character is played in utter deadpan, pricelessly portrayed by Nancy Bower (who you will remember as Mrs. White from Impossible Production’s CLUE a few months back) followed by slapstick humor. She is a skilled horsewoman riding her wooden stick horsie, who gets her kicks taunting Westley, the young blond farm boy. ALERT: If for no other reason, go see this show to breathlessly gaze upon the 3-H: hot, hunky, handsome (oh, yeah, and he can act too) Josh Lenn as Westley. Yummers! He repeats the key phrase in this story, “As you wish,” which any true blue Princess Bride aficionado will appreciate. If you’re not well versed in PB, I won’t spoil it for you here.

Next in the adventure, Buttercup is kidnapped onto a sailing ship by three surly thievish creatures—Vizzini the lisping Sicilian who uses the word “inconceivable” with relish, though rarely in the proper context (precisely played by Seanetta, who is the perfect villain with fantastic facial tics and distorted contortions galore), Fezzik the lovable buy annoyingly rhyming giant (portrayed by the hulky Jim Fourniadis who is also co-director), and Inigo the vengeance-seeking, swashbuckling, sword-welding Spaniard (the campy co-director Cameron Eng—melodrama personified with a thick accent and two scars running his cheeks). When the captive woman leaps overboard and swims for her life, we are relieved to hear the narrator announce, “buttercup does not get eaten by the eels at this time.” A word to the wise—those who arrive early to the Dark Room: if you sit in the front row, you get to be part of the ocean waves. And you can watch close up in awe as character clime a rope, wing from vines, and endure the flame spurts in the Fire Swamp (awesome effects are courtesy of extremely capable stage manager Melinda Adams). And of course no PB tale would be complete without the R.O.U.S.s (Rodents of Unusual Size), which this production certainly does not disappoint in that regard.

Enter Prince Humperdinck (John Filgas, described as having “a size 13 ego and a size 4 body”) who has Buttercup rescued, but demands she marry him to carry out his fiendish plot involving war and occupation (cf: Prez Bush). His cohorts, lead by Count Rugen (Mark Para as a total toady) keep careful watch over the soon-to-be princess. Prince H is an expert hunter who has a mad tussle with a gorilla while the music from Shaft plays. Bizarre. But no more bizarre than the Zoo of Death with a deranged albino as zookeeper. Then along comes the Dread Pirate Roberts, who isn’t nearly as dread (nor as Roberts) as he makes himself out to be. And all this action happens in just he first hour of the play. There is so much more to follow. But I shan’t reveal and ruin the surprises.

This merrily marvelous and most miraculous adventure exceedingly amusingly convinces us of two important facts: “There is a big difference between mostly dead and all dead” and “death cannot stop true love; all it can do is delay it for a while.” I am thrilled to report that the run has been extended to the last three weekends in January: Friday and Saturday at 8pm and Sunday at 4. The Dark Room (commanded by the charming Erin Ohanneson, who is also art director and costume designer—omigod what costumes!) is located at 2263 Mission between 18th and 19th Streets. I suggest you call 401.7987 to reserve tickets. And you will naturally respond: “As you wish.”