Making Movies Is a Dog's Life In New BCA Production

Ever wonder about what goes into the making of a movie? You can get the inside scoop in "Four Dogs and a Bone," the latest project of The Harrison Project theatre company. The play follows the painfully funny dog-fights between a producer, writer and two actresses as they wrestle for control of a film.

Written by John Patrick Shanley, whose other credits include "Moon-struck" and "Joe vs. the Volcano", "Four Dogs" opened to rave reviews in both New York and Los Angeles. And deservedly so, since it takes the worst stereotypes plaguing the film industry and weaves them into a complex web of machinations, as each character tries to manipulate the others into fulfilling his, or her, own desires. No one is above seduction, threats overt and covert, back-stabbing, or just plain simple bitchiness.

All these intrigues are played out in separate scenes, each featuring a different pair of characters. This device focuses the attention of the audience on the characters on stage, allowing every detail of Shanley's carefully constructed comic situations to come across. The cast luxuriates in the limelight, and makes full use of it to exhibit their comic ability. Punchlines are delivered with precision, and no gesture is lost on the audience.

Certainly, having an excellent cast helps tremendously. Charlie Broderick's performance as Bradley, the cynical and materialistic producer whose sole concern is getting the movie made within budget, is hilarious. Especially laughable is his convincing portrayal of a most miserable condition--a large, oozing sore on his posterior. This incapacitating boil grows and becomes a symbol for the problem-riddled film.

Elizabeth Jacobs is perfect and out of control as the airheaded Brenda. She plays up the insecurities of the budding actress and her New Age quirks, like a bizarre predilection for chanting in times of stress, to devastating effect, cracking up the audience continuously. Despite her ditziness, she gets along because of her whining, her breasts, and, on occasion, a flash of brilliant wit.

Brenda's rival is Collette, a much more experienced and sophisticated figure, played by Andrea Kooharian. Both Brenda and Collette want to be the star of the movie and both are equally ruthless in pursuit of their goal. Kooharian successfully portrays the bitchy career actress who feels threatened by an upstart of a pretty young thing.

Finally, there is Robert Kelly, who plays Victor, the writer caught between the two women. Of course, true to our preconceptions of amoral Hollywood, the actresses are trying their best to use their feminine wiles to make him rewrite the script, so that one or the other will be the main star. Meanwhile, he has to defend the artistic integrity of his screenplay, as the producer is demanding drastic scene cuts.

The resulting concoction of the four obviously maladjusted individuals, all of whom are too grasping and unscrupulous to be endearing in any way, provides for an entertaining clash of personalities. At the same time, one cannot help but respect the characters for their passion and intensity. There is a certain sense of comic pathos to them; they are all, as characterized by Bradley, "unlicked cubs," which is why they are all in show business.

If "Four Dogs" is supposed to be a critique of the film industry, it remains rather thin. So what if these stereotypes are true? Shanley, in spite of his wonderful ear for that which is funny, has unfortunately bought into the Hollywood writing formula--the work produced is pleasurable but ultimately does not tackle any meaty themes. For an evening of merriment, "Four Dogs" is a good bet. But if a Brechtian intellectualized theater is what you're looking for, it won't be found in this dog-eat-dog farce.