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review The first thing I want to know is: did playwright Mitchel Faris strike a deal with the gods, or did he simply sell his soul to the Devil Man himself to assure widespread media coverage of a potential celestial catastrophe timed to break with the opening of his new play, "Happy Hour"? The reason I ask is, most likely you are all aware of that asteroid that's been in the news of late. Well, Faris' play, currently at Stages in Anaheim, concerns the effects that a comet's imminent collision with Earth has upon the denizens of a cheeseball MexiCal restaurant called Don Fajitas, home of, among other things, the "SoCal LoCal Enchilada Combo" and a rather large and highly mobile rat. OK, so technically speaking, a comet is not quite the same as an asteroid. So big deal. To paraphrase one of the Don Fajitas regulars, who the hell cares? What concerns me here is that at the very height of the recent asteroid media flurry, "Happy Hour" opened. I ask you, doesn't that sound just a little too convenient to be coincidental? In any event, "Happy Hour" is a light and fluffy soufflé whipped up by Faris and served a la carte with salsa and cilantro by director Tracy Perdue and a cast of usual suspects rounded up from Stages' estimable acting ensemble. Written in part as an antidote to last year's grueling Holocaust drama, "The Last Number", "Happy Hour" breezily reminds us from start (a shameless Stages plug on the TV sound-over) to finish (an unabashedly goofy climactic irony) to don't-worry-be-happy. Relax. Have fun. Enjoy the show. Let Stages' eager valets park your car. Just don't look too closely at the odometer on your way home. Perdue's cast attack with the usual Stages fervor. Redlining the Energy Meter is Steve Mayeda's shredder busboy Brad Daily. Mayeda's Brad does not merely enter a scene. He dives into it. Headfirst. I kid you not. Richard Ransbottom's architect Roderick D. Purklie (with emphasis on the "Rod") demonstrates an admirable knack for comedy in his timing and delivery, and Patti Cumby's bartender displays an easy confidence and credibility. She is always a joy to watch. Technically speaking, K.C. Mercer has put together a humorous, sparkling sound design (whomever came up with that moronic mariachi-doorbell gets extra credit points) and Rick Lawhorn's set (designed with playwright Faris) has the "SoCal LoCal" look down, complete with what appeared to be from where I was sitting a fully-stocked and functional bar. No wonder everyone seemed to be having such a good time. All in all, "Happy Hour" is just that, a happy hour garnished with mildly to thoroughly deranged characters. And, regardless of what Faris may have done with the future of his soul, it is good to see his lighter side on such ingenuous, free-falling display. |