A MONSTER MASH
Like most boomers, I was raised watching black-and-white horror movies. Both frightening and amusing, those giant ants, grasshoppers and spiders attacking some innocent town were the best action movies back in the day. And once seen, the major monsters — King Kong, Godzilla, The Blob, Frankenstein, Dracula, et al. — are not forgotten.
In playwright Christian St. Croix‘s two-hander, Monsters of the American Cinema, we meet Remy Washington (Kevin Daniels), the Black gay big-hearted owner of Good Time Drive-In in Santee, CA, who is the caregiver for his late husband’s straight, white 16-year-old son, Pup, a.k.a. Peter Miller (Logan Leonardo Arditty). United by their love of classic American monster movies, Remy screens private double features, which the two watch from the comfort of their shoddy patio. Daniels and Arditty are so at ease with each other that you will feel like a fly on the wall of their mobile home (gloomy set by Stephanie Kerley Schwartz). With beguiling dialogue (albeit stuffed with exposition), the script can easily be defined as experimental: direct-address dueling soliloquies give us background while the present unfolds in real time (it’s kind of a Franken-play). The dedicated actors consistently hold our attention, pulling us along on a ride through their lives, not an easy task given the play lacks a dramatic arc.
Along with their shared grief and sense of loss about the man who has left them, the two must deal with “the world as just a big bag of drugs,” Remy says referring to his days working as a nightclub bouncer. And Pup understands this — his mother was a drug addict who stayed clean while pregnant and then walked away for good after his birth. With familial rapport, a conversation on dating and exploring sexuality has the two agree that any possible dates will have to pass The Lost Boys test. Daniels’ size makes it totally believable that he spent years as a bouncer, while the electrifying Arditty — making his stage debut — captures the youthfulness of Pup, not only a fan of film but an aspiring filmmaker
Their relationship takes a turn when Remy learns about the company Pup keeps and the homophobic bullying he participates in. Remy tells Pup he is going to put up a “Gay Owned” sign on the entrance to the drive-in. But did he really mean it or just want to make a point with Pup, who had recently supported some high school friends to torment a gay student? Both Remy and Pup prove “humans are the worst monsters” due to the way they treat each other, always looking out for themselves. Shared sorrow often triggers devastating conversations that can turn violent: their back-and-forth banter leads them to act out horror movie monsters just to scare each other (and in doing so, us as well); with a seemingly love/hate relationship with monsters, scary nightmares result for Pup when their worlds collide.
Under Ned Mochel’s pulse-pounding violence design, Daniels and Arditty authentically take on the persona of film monsters, made scarier by Ric Zimmerman’s emotional blood-red and ghoulish-green lights, Christopher Moscatiello’s tension-inducing sound, and Michelle Hanzelova-Bierbauer’s projection design, which offers classic horror film clips on the set’s walls.
Directed with empathy by John Perrin Flynn, this haunting and humorous tale about fathers and sons, ghosts and monsters, discovery and resilience, will transport you to worlds beyond through the American cinema.
photos by Jeff Lorch
Monsters of the American Cinema
Rogue Machine
Matrix Theatre, 7657 Melrose Avenue
Fri, Sat, and Mon at 8; Sun at 3 (dark May 13)
ends on May 19, 2024
for tickets ($20-$45), call 855.585.5185 visit Rogue Machine
