Review: Bad Evidence

People say that being married in L.A. is like dog years compared to the rest of the country. While New York swarms with unattainable supermodels, wives in L.A. contend with attainable girls, who are chestier than their supermodel counterparts, shorter than models so that the men feel bigger, and so insecure from financial instability and bad auditions that they throw themselves at anyone who flatters them and drives a Range Rover. 

That's why Angelenos should see Bad Evidence, playing at The Elephant Theatre in Hollywood. If we thought we were bring tested here in the Porn Capitol of the World,  you should see the mess these New Yorkers get themselves into. I left the theatre both relieved and uncomfortable. Relieved that it was only a dream, and uncomfortable because the characters surge dangerously close to territory that married couples steer far from. When actress Glory Simon confronts her spouse about an affair, or even an attraction that may lead to an affair, you wish she hadn't asked. The air is electrified and they're both so vulnerable. You hold your breath and hope he will lie. Lying is the nice thing to do.

The play has the domestic sparring of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and the antics of Laguna BeachA couple of standout performances include Justin Sintic, who was somehow able to break away from the script in which all characters speak exactly the same. He took the role of Kevin and made it his own; a hard-boozing, aggressive Wall Street type. Ryan Fox delivers an empathetic performance that makes one wish he were given a bigger role. Though he's caught red-handed with the wrong woman minutes after we're introduced to him, the audience roots for him. He looks torn when she grinds against him, almost uncomfortable. It humanized him, so in response the audience hoped he would emerge with his political career and marriage intact. His subtlety also helped reel in actors that seemed too over-the-top for the small space. His sense of moral gravity reconnected his castmates to the events happening on stage.

Angelenos, you should see this play not only for entertainment, but to feel better about your own relationships.  I'm a firm believer in schadenfreude. After all, this is a town where Angelina runs rampant kissing her brother, humping on mentally ill senior citizens, drinking blood and stealing the Lord of the Douches from his perfectly good wife. A land where men tint their eyelashes and a geriatric Playboy magnate enjoys ice cream in bed with teens. We need all the help we can get.

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