Review of "Rocky Horror Brain Cafe"

By Gastrin Bombesin for The Daily Zeitgeist

Welcome to a waste of time.

"Rocky Horror Brain Cafe" is the title of a recent Dilbert and Sullivan "emopera" hastily crafted in the space of a hectic fortnight by the notorious Martian Anthropologist, Barsoom Tork. Clocking in at a disconnected sixteen scenes, one can hardly imagine another ordeal so turgid and confused.

It’s a baffleplexing ramble through the inscrutable politics of The Brain Cafe with the character of Scooby Doo tossed in as an apparent afterthought. The main character, Moulton, the Schmeggegy Scientist, is ridiculous. He’s mainly a pedant, but more commonly an obnoxious rebel.

The basics of storycraft are absent. There is no substantive plot. No character development. No narrative arc. On the positive side, it’s a daring project, if poorly realized.

Moulton himself adapted his shreklisch drama for the blogosphere: always a futile task. On the negative side, the playwright appears to be unfamiliar with the imperatives of dramaturgical structure.

This puzzling series of disconnected scenes would have been much better, if only Moulton had not toiled alone on this piece of drek. The colophon credits Barsoom Tork as co-dramaturge and an enigmatic cherub as the emopera's inspirational sponsor. Both of them would have been wise to work under untraceable pseudonyms.

Moulton, our anti-hero, is a foolhardy character. He is a miscreantic, pompous would-be problem-solver who somehow has the ear of the Mother Superior and her trio of uncompromising gatekeepers.

Why the titular reference to Rocky Horror? Unclear. A sideshow with no dramatic function, it's a paste-on, it seems, apparently designed to intrigue those in the audience familiar with throwaway references to popular culture, most of which could mercifully be chopped.

What drives Moulton and therefore the drama? Impossible to discern. This protagonist is a passive aggressive character who responds to challenges with alacrity, but has little ambition or insight. He’s going nowhere in particular, and so is the emopera.

The narrator's commentary is broad and unhelpful. He stretches the comic scenes beyond endurance, exhausting the lackluster humor. For the frequent segues that deliver backstory and the parallel current events in cyberspace, the narrator has the actors race so quickly through their numbers, they must sometimes gargle their spittle.

I will not disclose the ending, but if you can’t see it coming at intermission, check with your shrink.

Acting is rather spotty. Becca McCall turns in an excellent performance though her role inhibits her considerable talents. She deftly works her character’s variety of inscrutable emotions. She’s able to play comedy and serious drama with equal facility, and with sophistication. Caprice gives us a soft paraclete with a tough interior. A small but vital role.

In the underwritten roles of the Amida Queen, the Lissatone Lass, and the Dreaded Foobot, the silhouetted actors provide solid performances.

The Enigmatic Cherub, as the Amida Queen, takes on a deep, Katharine Hepburn-like persona that makes her sound crafty and a bit manipulative. This is not the voice of serious political power, but of subtle sketch comedy. The costumes are so briefly delineated, they resemble something out of Star Trek. As Darth Feuder, the Amida Queen’s inestimable Minion, Tom Servo also takes on a deep, intimidating voice. Crow T. Foobot's treatment of the GateKeeper of the Great Gate of Kiev is beyond disappointing. Blame the script.

A duet between Barsoom Tork and Becca Nicole is too bizarre for words, and the soporific sequence should be cut from the script, shredded, burned, buried and forgotten.

~Gastrin Bombesin for The Daily Zeitgeist