STAGE REVIEW : A Retelling of ‘Cyrano’ for the ‘90s
Michael Kearns, an openly HIV-positive actor, has written a scorching passion play that’s not only of its time but one leap ahead of it.
“Myron, a Fairy Tale in Black and White,†at Highways in Santa Monica, imaginatively dramatizes an interracial love story by making it a gay triangle inspired by the three central characters in that most dashing of all romantic plays, Rostand’s “Cyrano de Bergerac.â€
“Myron†is not awash with swordplay or decor. An imposing bed on a spare stage is the extent of its design, but its slashing wit and fervid emotions make it an altogether apt “Cyrano†for the ‘90s. As for tinkering with a masterpiece, Kearns, director Colin Martin and a three-man cast fashion a considerably more telling and wicked update than Steve Martin’s “Cyrano†remake, “Roxanne.â€
As the Cyrano character, Myron (Amos Cowson) is not only an African-American gay but a writer dying of AIDS. The love object Roxanne has become Rex (Jason Brooks), a handsome white helper from a social service agency. The dense but avid suitor Christian materializes as Chris (Charles Champion), a hunky African-American computer guy who initiates his seduction of Rex by speaking Myron’s swooning words (X-rated and highly erotic) over the telephone.
Kearns, in his first full-length play following a series of solo pieces, doesn’t appear in the production, but the verve that underscored his “intimacies†and “more intimacies†is duplicated here.
More pointed than the AIDS element (which isn’t the core of the drama) is the race issue. Ardor between white and black men is rare even in gay theater. This production, cleverly springboarding from what is arguably dramatic literature’s greatest romance, makes the passion look--and feel-- as natural, if not as mythical, as Antony and Cleopatra or any other set of heterosexual lovers. Myron is everyman. Rex is every woman.
In this sense, “Myron†rewards and merits the attention of straight patrons, who often are outnumbered at Highways--a fact that’s increasingly out of sync with the transformative and unifying themes staged there.
In addition, the show highlights a bravura turn--alternately bitchy, enraged, melancholy and hilarious--by Cowson. It’s the kind of performance that follows you home. True, his always-funny one-liners are rat-a-tat-tat, but this, after all, is a razor-tongued Cyrano’s alter ego, raving and ranting. He can get away with it.
As for those irrepressible letters Myron sends under Chris’ name to Rex, they’re moonbeam-feverish even if they’re not Rostand’s soulful poetry.
Rather than a long nose, Myron is stuck with a reddened, disfigured arm. One dream sequence, when he floats out of bed to whirl around the room to the music of Billie Holiday, is a knockout. Brooks and Champion, in comparatively mundane, far less showy roles, deliver textured support.
“Myron†stamps Kearns as a playwright whose world--its love and its squalor--magnifies our own.
* “Myron, a Fairy Tale in Black and White,†Highways, 1651 18th St., Santa Monica, today - Saturday, 8 p.m. Ends Saturday. $12. (213) 660-8587. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes.
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