CONTRIBUTORS
LINKS
Kevin Allen, taking a break from work, is chatting with me on his cell phone while walking along Main Street in downtown Sarasota. He tells me he has on a Burberry tie, but that's just because he has a dentist's appointment, and wants to look grown-up for the occasion. As he walks down Main, phone pressed to his ear, he talks eloquently about his day job (staff writer at the weekly Sarasota Observer) as well as his extracurricular activity (an improvisational comic with the comedy troupe Becky's Rejects), the latter being the subject of this interview.
Then, Allen says, some guy wearing painter's garb, probably taking a break from work as well, gives him the finger as he passes by. For no obvious reason, except, Allen muses, "I don't think he liked that I was wearing a collared shirt and talking on a cell phone." The young actor-journalist is amused by the hand gesture.
The scene of Allen the Yuppie passing by the Disgruntled Painter Dude has the makings of a comedy skit. And, for all we know, it might be included in Becky's Rejects' next performance. The musical improv group that stars Allen, Tim Beasley, Chris Friday, Jamie Day and pianist Russell Heath, takes cues from these kinds of small events. In the current show, Phonebook: The Musical, Allen and company take cues from that most mundane of everyday tasks -- sifting through the yellow pages.
Allen says the phonebook idea wasn't entirely his. A renowned Chicago group, itself with an absurd name (Baby Wants Candy) inspired Allen, Beasley and Friday to start a show where audience members randomly pick names and occupations from the phonebook. The actors build characters, scenes, a plot and songs around them, and for the 45-minute duration try to keep the show lively, funny, and most of all, coherent.
To accomplish this, Allen says, he needs "gems."
"They're gifts onstage that lead you in a good direction," he explains. This happens when one Reject throws a particularly suggestive line to another Reject, who can then pick it up and make a joke out of. They call it pimping the other actor.
Allen and his crew are trained in the art of the unexpected. Allen, who studied journalism at the University of Missouri before pursuing a double major in Theater and English, interned for an off-Broadway company before moving to Sarasota. He moonlighted with Florida Studio Theatre's improv group, where he met Becky's Rejects co-stars Friday and Beasley. Jamie Day came on later, he says, "when we realized we needed a female presence."
The connection between FST and Becky's Rejects is strong. Allen left FST when his reporter's schedule became too unpredictable, but Beasley and Friday continue performing in both troupes. Christine Alexander, the publicist for Becky' Rejects, is also a member of FST Improv. Zac Chase, who rounds out the FST cast, is Allen's roommate. Even Becky's Rejects' name has an FST connection -- the "Becky" in question is Rebecca Langford, FST Improv's director.
All this cross-pollination between the two troupes naturally calls into question Becky's Rejects' relevance -- there's already one comedy troupe in Sarasota, so why would the town need another (with no less than two of the same actors)?
"There are two forms of improv theater," Allen explains. "One is based around a game. So you get a concept, suggestions from the audience. Then actors make the scene work." That's what FST does: individual scenes. Becky's Rejects bases an entire play on audience's phonebook choices, rather than vignettes based on theatrical games. The long-form version allows the actors to stretch, develop more intricate plots and hopefully engage the audience a little more.
And it affords them more opportunities to sing. The very concept of improvised musical theater is baffling, since you don't know the chord changes, nor where the verses and choruses go -- building blocks of any song.
I ask Allen if musical improv is a bit like playing an extended jam in a rock band. "That's a good analogy," he says.
He then muses, "I used to hate musicals." Allen never really saw the point in breaking out in song in mid-play, since no one does that in real life. But while interning at New York's York Theater, he recalls, the manager taught him the value of musicals:
"He said, 'Have you ever felt so emotional about something, that you didn't know quite where to go with it?' That is when people sing in musicals."
As important as the songs themselves are to Becky's Rejects' success, the need for audience participation is equally as key. Interaction makes the audience feel like they're pushing the plot along. Even if the interaction isn't always pleasant.
"One time I was driving a car," says Allen (not a literal car, mind you, but an invisible on-stage vehicle). "And the way I'm holding the steering wheel is the way I do in real life," with both hands at the bottom, in the 6 o'clock position. Some wiseass in the audience called out Allen on it, implying that no one drives a car that way.
"So I flipped him off," he says, reminding me of the painter Allen just walked by on Main Street.
Allen recalls an even less tactful audience member, an old Longboat Key lady who simply did not get the concept of improv comedy.
Becky's Rejects were performing during a women's luncheon at Temple Beth Shalom, a conservative synagogue comprised of, I think it's safe to say, an audience not usually regarded as the improv-type crowd.
"This woman said, in the middle of the performance, 'What the fuck is this shit?'" says Allen, amused at the notion of this woman interrupting his performance at, of all places, a synagogue. In the months since Becky's Rejects formed, he concludes, "that's as bad as it's gotten."
Becky's Rejects performs Phonebook: The Musical, 8 p.m. at Backlot Arts, 2208 Industrial Blvd., Sarasota, 363-9300 or www.backlotarts.com. Tickets cost $12.
