Killing My Lobster fractures a few more fairy tales

 BY JANE GANAHL
From the San Francisco Chronicle
Wednesday, March 2, 2005
(c) 2005 SF Chronicle, Inc. All rights reserved.

If there's anything funnier than a stage full of klutzy comedians, it's watching them try to learn dance steps together.

"One, two, three, four!" counts choreographer Jennifer Chien, grinning and clapping time as she watches Nick Olivero, Andrew Bancroft, Andy Alabran and Jon Wolanske of the sketch comedy troupe Killing My Lobster do an exaggerated tiptoe steps (think Bugs Bunny or Michael Jackson in the "Thriller" video) as they approach a sleeping Red Riding Hood. Claws outstretched, faces locked in wicked gleefulness, the group clearly has evil intent.

Alabran pauses in mid-stalk. "Should I go about 2 meters from her?" he asks Chien. The others break position to snicker about his word choice, and Alabran shrugs. "Sorry to get all metric on you guys."

This rehearsal seems to take an absurdity break every five minutes or so, which makes it a bit hard to concentrate, and opening night of their new show, "Killing My Lobster Kisses a Toad," is just around the corner. But what can you expect? They would not have gotten into this business if they didn't have a healthy love of the absurd.

Even the rehearsal space speaks of zany creativity: a large office suite painted a bilious lime green, with tattered carpets and cheerfully sagging couches. Cookies are in a plastic tub, baked by one of the performers. Framed posters of previous Killing My Lobster shows decorate the wall: "KML Loves a Parade," "KML Runs With Scissors," "KML Breaks the Bank."

Olivero asks, "Should there be a pelvic thrust here?" and demonstrates with an energetic jutting that would make a Chippendales dancer blush.

Chien laughs. "That's right! That's good! Yes, Wolfie's got hips."

Subtitled "comedic vignettes for the endearingly enchanted," KML's latest production furthers the delightfully cracked vision of the "Fractured Fairy Tales" cartoons that aired on "Rocky and Bullwinkle" in the early '60s. In "Kisses a Toad," for example, the wolf who bursts into Grandma's house intending to eat her is dismayed at his inability to scare her senseless. They end up sharing personal feelings and walking into the sunset, hand in paw.

This production continues the tradition of expansion and experimentation for the San Francisco group, which was formed eight years ago and named after a booze-induced slip of the tongue for the song title "Killing Me Softly."

"Kisses a Toad," which starts a two-week run at the Theatre of Yugen/Noh Space on Thursday, will feature the formidable musical talents of Tim Barsky, flutist and beatboxer; it is also the first KML show to be directed by a woman, Melanie Case, who has also written and performed the two-woman play "The Sho Show" and teaches improv at ACT's Young Conservatory. "This is basically an amalgam of many fairy tales," says Case, a pixieish young woman with bright eyes. "I've always been into them, and my mother studied them. It's astonishing me now, as an adult, to see how violent and cruel they are to children."

She flips through the pages of a storybook while the mayhem continues on the rehearsal stage behind her, and lands on the pages of "Harriet and the Matches." Harriet is a bad girl who plays with matches. Her dress catches fire, and she self-immolates. All that's left are her two cats, who weep over her.

"Pretty awful, eh?" Case shakes her head. "Most fairy tales didn't really have a happy ending; they were often more of a cautionary tale. To me, sketch comedy is a modern-day equivalent of fairy tales, in that we use it to reflect our culture back on itself. It's the perfect marriage of art forms."

This is a comedy troupe that also prides itself on collaboration: KML regulars in "Kisses a Toad" include Olivero, Wolanske, Tonya Glanz, Emily Helfgot and Shaye Troha. Joining the cast for this production are Alabran, who comes from the Shotgun Players, and Bancroft, whose home is with Illbilly Productions.

After a break, Case sits down with the cast members and lets them know she's cutting several vignettes from the script, which was constructed by all players. "I wasn't using Tim's music enough, and he's so brilliant."

The company erupts in applause as Barsky, fiddling with his instruments, holds out his arms in appreciation.

"So we're going to go straight from 'Teapot's Fables' to 'Ah, Just Eat Me! ' OK?" Case looks up to see their nodding heads.

She also suggests a new final line for the show, which follows an unfortunate poisoning incident. "How about you all say in unison: 'If you drink and you're underage, you ... will ... DIE!' "

All laugh uproariously. Not all morals of the story are devoid of humor.
Killing My Lobster Kisses a Toad will be performed at the Theatre of Yugen/Noh Space, 2840 Mariposa St., San Francisco. Tickets are $12-$17 and available at the door, or online at www.killingmylobster.com.