MOTHERFUCKER! WHAT A
COLOSSAL MISSED OPPORTUNITY

With heightened and relentless dialog, Stephen Adly Guirgis’s The Motherfucker with the Hat follows Jackie, a recently paroled ex-con and recovering addict whose fragile new life teeters when he finds an unfamiliar hat in his girlfriend Veronica’s apartment. The discovery ignites suspicions of betrayal that ripple through his relationships—with Veronica, his AA sponsor Ralph, and his flamboyant cousin Julio. As lies pile on lies, the play becomes a study in trust, temptation, and the near-impossible task of keeping the past from poisoning the present.

Alex Désert, Jolie Oliver

In a guest production at the Odyssey Theatre, Lodric D. Collins gives Jackie a warmth and vulnerability that makes his downward spiral all the more painful to watch. Jordan Marinov’s Veronica dances on the edge between adoration and cruelty, her volatility matched by Alex Désert’s smooth but slippery Ralph. Carlos Moreno Jr. keeps Cousin Julio joyfully over the top, a welcome injection of energy. It’s a strong ensemble—capable of carrying the play’s emotional weight—if only they were allowed to.

Alex Désert, Lodric D. Collins

Instead, director Jolie Oliver, who also plays Ralph’s wife Victoria, constantly undercuts them with fussy staging and needless “realism.” Monologues that could break your heart are buried under business: lacing up shoes, making smoothies, or clearing plates with the concentration of a Food Network contestant. With eyes cast downward the energy is often directed at their activities. We as spectators are pushed into a voyeuristic position with no room for empathy or insight. Perhaps it’s realism, perhaps it’s an inclination toward the reliance upon tight shots in TV and film. Whatever the reasoning, it doesn’t work in the theatre. Viewers are left wading through the garnish on our plates, searching for the main course.

Carlos Moreno, Alex Désert

This entire play is about trust. Trust between Jackie and Veronica in their relationship. Trust between Ralph and his wife Victoria. Trust between Ralph and Jackie as a sponsor/sponsee. The list goes on. There seems to be no trust between the director and the cast and crew. In their very capable hands, this play could and should bring an audience to tears while laughing at Guirgis’s raw, crackling humor. The introspection, the inner conflict, the pain and shame of lusting for something that will ultimately destroy you, the fear of losing something that was supposed to be forever, the grief of losing yourself to your insatiable desires—these are the human themes that we all live with. But every time one of these conflicts is presented to us, a grand opportunity to really affect us emotionally and spiritually, actors are not only too concentrated on business, sometimes they just walk a long track around the room and upstage themselves.

Jolie Oliver, Lodric D. Collins

During every transition, a small army of stagehands and actors flood the stage to rearrange everything—the furniture, bedding, art on the walls, stacks of smoothie powder, a clothes-drying rack, pillows, tables, chairs, place settings—most of it irrelevant to the text and seldom serving the story. These transitions last anywhere from a minute to an eternity, and happen often. It’s like changing a flat tire: you’ve got to loosen the lug nuts before you lift the wheel, or it’ll just spin. The result is the same: every time the stage resets, the actors have to reconstruct the play’s energy from zero. Actors build the world of a play, not the houseplants. Trust them, and the magic follows.

Alex Désert, Carlos Moreno, Lodric D. Collins

The design team is experienced but also oddly muted by Ms. Oliver. Brandon Baruch’s lighting lands in a stark two-state cycle: bright work lights for scenes, half-light for transitions. Andrew Villaescusa’s sound leans heavily on transition songs and a single tape-player gag, missing the layered soundscape that could have evoked New York’s grit and pulse.

Lodric D. Collins, Jordan Marinov

The tragedy here isn’t in the script—it’s in the gap between what the play could make us feel and what the production chooses to show. With less clutter and more trust in its cast,  could leave viewers gutted. Instead, it leaves us watching people work really hard to move furniture.

Lodric D. Collins, Jordan Marinov

photos by Cody Williams

The Motherfucker with the Hat
Odyssey Theatre Ensemble, 2055 S. Sepulveda Blvd
Thurs-Sat at 8; Sun at 2
ends on August 31, 2025
for tickets ($30-$45), call 310.477.2055 ext. 2 or visit TMWTH and Odyssey Theatre

for more shows, visit Theatre in LA