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Wave of laughs lifts 'S.A.M.' above its choppy structure

Tuesday, November 16, 1999

By JOE ADCOCK Mail Author
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER
THEATER CRITIC

The business about Caucasian angst and Rolling Stone magazine and the "blue-sky generation" is a shaky foundation. But playwright Garrett H. Omata makes it support a lightweight little romantic comedy propped up by funny dialogue and characters.

Omata's "S.A.M. I Am" is playing at the Langston Hughes Cultural Center. Perhaps the show's most preposterous underpinning is the idea of a literary sensation, a pop-star writer. Such phenomena haven't really existed since the 19th century, when guys such as Lord Byron and Robert Browning were maybe the cultural equivalent of our own Puff Daddy or Limp Bizkit.


THEATER REVIEW

S.A.M. I Am. Repertory Actors Theatre production at Langston Hughes Cultural Center, 104 17th St. S. (at Yesler). Tickets $6-$12, $1 off with canned goods for food bank; 206-364-3283.


Here's the deal: John (Asian American) loves Jackie. Jackie (also Asian American) loves Sam Shepard (Caucasian paragon). So John adopts the pseudonym "Nick Strathborn," writer extraordinaire. Nick becomes the Ernest Hemingway of his generation. His novel, "Blue Skies Over Burbank," is serialized in Rolling Stone. Women desire him. Men desire to be him. TV talking heads quote him. But no one actually sees him. No matter. He crystallizes "Caucasian frustration."

Whatever that is.

Anyway, Jackie is one of Nick's most devoted fans. Meanwhile, Jackie's roommate, Betty (Asian American) is tired of being the prototypical good girl. She falls for John's roommate Lohman (also Asian American), who is a buff stud who only dates blondes. All this self-doubt, even self-loathing, is really not the stuff of romantic comedy. And, of course, Omata never resolves it.

What he does do is brush it aside in favor of short, funny scenes. Lohman's blonde du jour (after witnessing him lip-sync Jim Morrison singing "Light My Fire") says, "I want to make love!" To which Lohman replies, "Fine, as long as we get to have sex, too."

Betty recommends a 12-step group such as Alcoholics Anonymous when Jackie admits that she is powerless over her desire for Sam Shepard or at least for a Sam Shepard clone.

When she finishes her master's degree thesis, Betty suddenly realizes that she doesn't have a life. A personals ad respondent wants Betty to act out his "Bangkok in flames" fantasy.

An editor insists on the distinction between "good crap and bad crap" and advises John/Nick to stick with "pointless sensationalism" and eschew politics.

John/Nick fears for the consequences when his rabid fans discover that "the voice of frustrated Caucasians is a Japanese cook."

Despite the choppy structure -- short scenes separated by blackouts -- director David Hsieh gives "S.A.M." enough momentum to carry it through on a wave of chortles. Joseph Yang played John last weekend. Now Eddie Mui, who played the role in the premiere production in Los Angeles, takes over. Yang gave the role the necessary ambivalence: yearning and fear.

Colleen Parker portrays a semi-airhead as Jackie. As Lohman's blonde, Kim Anh Yanda is a total airhead. As Betty, Kathy Hsieh is a good girl getting in touch with her inner bad girl. T.J. Langley, Shawn J. West, Roy Stanton and Gordon Hendrickson fill in the background with assorted comic bits.

Director Hsieh designed the set, which is an ingenious combination of two apartments: messy and tasteless for the boys, neat and pretty for

the girls.

"S.A.M." is Omata's only play. He was working on a second when he committed suicide at 25, not long before he was to have married. He obviously had a flare for dialogue and character. His structure and thematic problems are characteristic of most beginning playwrights. It's easy to imagine that he might have become an admirable craftsman. But that, alas, is speculation.


P-I theater critic Joe Adcock can be reached at 206-448-8369 or joeadcock@seattle-pi.com.

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