By New Times
By Robrt L. Pela and Amy Silverman
By Katrina Montgomery
By Kathleen Vanesian
By Monica Alonzo
By Benjamin Leatherman
By Robrt L. Pela
By Katrina Montgomery
What's kept Dering from doing Hwang's controversial play? He's never found the right actor to play Song Liling, the story's titular "Butterfly." Numerous casting calls netted no one willing or able to wear whiteface and various kimonos convincingly — that is, until Dering met Thomas Isao Morinaka, his Song Liling in this production.
How ironic, then, that it is leading man David Weiss (who has appeared in or worked on most if not all of Nearly Naked's productions over the past several years) who walks off with this production, and not Morinaka, whose impersonation of a geisha is fey and awkward and never catches on.
Weiss appears in nearly every scene of Hwang's long three-act, and he's never anything but perfect in the rangy role of a homely, oafish fellow who's been unlucky in love. Weiss' Rene Gallimard is just dopey enough to make it likely that he had an affair of long duration with a man he believed to be a woman. He plays Gallimard as a dullard, but never a dunce; his comic line readings are as dry as toast, which makes them even funnier; his dramatic scene is neatly parsed and loudly passionate.
The supporting cast is mostly unimpressive, with the exception of Wes Martin, whose large talent is wasted in a handful of bits. I wish I'd seen this show on a night when young Michelle Chin, one of the understudies and an actor I've always admired, had gone on. Instead, the stage was filled with also-ran performances punctuated nicely by a trio of ninjas who occasionally danced but mostly manned the several set changes.
I found myself wondering why Dering would allow a play he loves so dearly to be presented on such a creaky, unattractive set. Designed by Weiss (more irony!), the set is mostly a warped ramp flanked by a set of squeaky scrims that groan and rasp their way up and down throughout. The sightlines are terrible; the tech crew and actors waiting to go on are plainly visible from the audience.
Dering's immaculate direction speaks as much about his love of details (a nicely danced battle sequence; the shattering of a heavy glass vase) as it does his love of this play. But if there's a triumph here, it belongs not to Dering's leading "lady" — or even to Dering for finally getting this rarely seen play off the ground — but to Weiss. As Gallimard himself says shortly before curtain, "Everything else simply falls short."