By Ernest Kearney — Ideas are swarming in Josiah Blount’s flamboyant one-man theomachy Flayed, and we’re talking a swarm of the Biblical variety. Unfortunately, the droning dissonance it produces is detrimental to his endeavor.
Blount bounces out like Marjoe on the NASCAR circuit and, with the alacrity of Ricky Jay, sets to shuffling various characters as he mythologizes his love of Christ and his attraction to bronze hunks.
Blount leaps from the tight-ass Tartuffe Pastor Wallace to a conflicted younger self, then zips into Bartholomew —a cannibalistic Medieval serf—, whisks into the persona of a maladroit pregnant mermaid, dons the blond wig of a randy milkmaid, as he leaps from contestant/defendant, game show/witness stand, back to the church altar and finally into the bumping and grinding Red Queen….
Throughout it all Blount clowns it up royally, dragging audience members up on stage, utilizing them as Congregationalists, assigning them roles in the story of his sexual quest.
Like I said, there is a great deal going on here, but what there isn’t is what’s needed the most: economy and conciseness. While Blount’s clowning is excellent, bordering on inspired, his lack of focus dilutes the dynamics of his performance and muddles the story he is trying to convey. Taubert Nadalini’s sound design is impressive, as is Taylor Sieve’s choreography but Blount and Director David Bridel need to hack down the show’s seventy-five minutes running time.
A Silver Medal.
****
To learn more about Flayed and the Hollywood Fringe Festival click HERE.
