Compared to this tripe, Escape From New York’s a work of genius. But enough. Our hero and his followers will “break on through to the other side,” whether we care one whit or not.
Lizard is too long, way too wordy, and the songs got shoved into slots that don’t fit. One of the strangest things is that, for a musical, the production’s so one-note. Everything’s an assault, from the author’s fustian language (imagine Sam Shepard’s prose on ugly pills), to the stagey stage combat, to tough-talking, gouge-your-eyes-out acting, and to Sam Woodhouse’s direction. This latter’s a big surprise. Woodhouse’s gifts of humor and irony, which have ignited many a show, are completely absent here.
A musical based on the Doors? As the Queen of the Highway tells our hero, “Trust me, cowboy, this ain’t it.”
Monty and Lizard may, or may not, work out their problems. In the meantime, one of the best shows of the year concludes its brief run this weekend. The Renaissance Theatre Company’s Waiting for Godot is the funniest, most stimulating theater in San Diego. Tired of tricks and pretension? Treat yourself to the real thing.