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Kill Me, Deadly at STAGEStheatre Sends Up Film Noir in a Rollicking Production

Thursday, April 6, 2017 at 9 a.m.

Doesn’t he look like a low-end Clark Gable?


Kill Me, Deadly is about the dumbest play you’ll ever see, and also one of the funniest. Bill Robens’ parody of Hollywood film noir films of the 1940s and 1950s is a ridiculous mélange of red herrings, femme fatales, murders, a plot that doesn’t twist as much as collapse upon itself, wise-cracking dames, witless thugs and perhaps the most confidently obtuse private detective to ever be committed to page. But it all, mostly, works in this rollicking fun production at STAGEStheatre directed by Steven Biggs and graced by the game efforts of a 12-person cast.

Set in 1947 Hollywood, where life is as cheap as a chalk-stripe suit (according to the program), the play’s backdrop is reminiscent of La La Land, as the City of Angels is as much a narrative force as the story. We don’t see much of that in this production, except for a few projections courtesy of Jon Gaw, but the frequent allusions to the town in the script make it impossible to overlook. Nor do we get the gritty composure of so many of those films, which relied so often on low-key lighting and unconventional cinematography.

But we do get all the stock characters readily identifiable by anyone who has seen The Big Sleep or Double Indemnity. There’s the hardboiled private detective Charlie Nickles (Abel Miramontes); his snappy secretary Ida (Judy Mina-Ballard); the nefarious female with dubious intentions, Mona Livingston (Darri Kristin); the rich widow Lady Clairmont (Julie Kirkman); her saucy daughter, Veronica (Alexis-Lynn Harding); and, for some reason, a washed-up former boxer (Frank Tryon), three hobos, Bugsy Siegel (Andrew Margolin), and a cursed diamond that serves as kind of a McGuffin of the affair.

The chief difference of course between this parody and real film noir is that we know from the outset that this is less about an ominous, sinister plot or the solving of a crime than it is a motley assortment of gags and puns and the kind of dialogue that seems lifted straight from Mickey Spillane. And playwright Robens, who wrote this in 2010 and turned it into a screenplay filmed last year, does a riotous job with the words, such as Charlie’s opening monologue as he muses about Los Angeles and the “cigar-chomping, beet-faced, card-carrying members of the LAPD’s Bum Brigade, grinning at you as you take some brass knuckles to your sternum and one for good measure in the chops.”

The lower-case plot finds Charlie enmeshed in the mystery of the death of a wealthy widow who he has recently taken on as a client. But it then careens into a hopeless convoluted saga involving everything from a hobo encampment to a butler who we’re never sure why he’s onstage, a stunning equestrian heiress and, most strangely, the sudden appearance of Siegel, the only real-life character in the show, who goes off on some weird monologue about…

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