By ERIC MARCHESE
Special to the Register

Yeah, it's true: We love to be frightened, and we love to laugh. So
the idea of generating laughs from something presumably scary is a
splendid marriage of seeming opposites.

The frightful-funny concept is what made "Ghostbusters" work so well.
Ditto for TV horror film hosts such as Seymour and Elvira, and their
Second City TV spoof counterpart, Count Floyd.

Rude Guerrilla Theater Company's idea, therefore, of injecting
standard Halloween-type characters into an original commedia
dell'arte setting is an inspired one. Called "Things That Go Bump,"
it's a well-conceived laugh-fest whose best scenes and lines not only
serve its cast of six ably but which also provides the performers
numerous jumping-off points that allow for prolonged yet fast-paced
improvisations.

Most of these involve the audience in some way or other, which gives
audience members a chance to get a chuckle or two at the expense of
their seatmates. No one is immune: On the opening weekend performance
reviewed here, two print journalists (this intrepid reporter
included) were in attendance, prompting many a jibe at critics in
particular and at the whole theater-media symbiosis in general.

In fact, the art form of theater itself is mocked mercilessly. The
script is loaded with self-referential jokes, as characters allude to
themselves as performers in a play, jest about previous Rude
Guerrilla productions, and even chide spectators for being so foolish
as to have coughed up 15 bucks to witness this show.

The loose storyline involves a Dracula-like guy called The Count
(Andrew Nienaber), who has recently moved to Orange County ("the
source of ultimate evil"), the better to summon his master, The Dark
Lord.

The Count's pumpkin- headed servant, Gourdo (Sean Cox), informs us
that the Dark Lord can be summoned only during the coincidence of
three random events: The year must be a palindrome (as in 2002); "the
idiot son of an idiot son must rule the world's most powerful
nation"; and "the professional baseball team bearing the name of
God's messengers must make it to the ALCS."

Alternately aiding and thwarting The Count are his Goth priestess,
Greta (Cathy Petz), sexy "wirgin wampire" Emma (Kelly Quigley),
eccentric gypsy Madame Zorga (Aurelio Locsin), and her son, Rufus
(Damon Hill), who has been turned into a "dog-boy" (dog's head,
human's body) by The Count. Whoever possesses a magical wooden box
will be able to summon The Dark Lord. As the box passes from one
character to the next, the various characters interact, generating
the non- sequiters, bad puns and general zaniness typical of all
commedia.

Like the best burlesque acts – or Elvira – "Thing That Go Bump" has
been given a decidedly blue emphasis. Aside from the general format,
the only nods to the classic commedia dell'arte are the masks worn by
The Count, Gourdo and Rufus, and the comical, lightly Italianate
accents used by all six performers.

It's all kept moving at a brisk pace (90 continuous minutes) by
director David Gallo. Some of the show's wittiest lines are the many
topical and cultural references that have been scripted, but don't
count out this cast's ability to think on its feet.

A Wallfour.com Review

Well Rude Guerrilla has yet again proved that there are many roads they can take leading toward five popsicles. Their current production of Things That Go Bump takes a far turn from the typically more serious and thought provoking (not to mention violent) shows that many audience members have come to love them for. This show is easily the most light-hearted production they have done this year. But by no means is calling this show light-hearted meant to downplay the quality of this show, despite the fact that the show refers to itself as Cirque du So-lame. Things That Go Bump, is all at once: hilarious, spontaneous, up to date, meta-textual, and with performances that are delightfully thrown in the audience's face.

This commedia dell'arte production comes just in time for Halloween, full of witchcraft, black capes, jack-o-lanterns, and the The Dark Lord himself, whose summoning is the focal point of the plot. However this summoning is often humorously forgotten. The show's prevailing comic sense easily overshadows and abandons this plot point to where we must be reminded to return to it. The show becomes so ridiculously funny that by the time The Dark Lord is finally revealed, his lack of stature is not a disappointment, because you have already laughed so hard that you couldn’t possibly care as to whom or what he is.

What makes this show great is that it never loses pace. The freedom of improv the actors are given in this show is unmatched, and therefore requires a lot of them to keep the show moving. The show isn't directionless, but rather it is open to direction on the spot. This requires actors who are clever enough to go with the direction of the current show being played. The group that director David Gallo has assembled is so talented in their craft that even when jokes don't work as intended, they are able to pick themselves up quickly enough so that you don't have time to notice, except perhaps in retrospect, which makes the failed punch line funny in it's own failure.

Sean Cox opens the production as the character of Gourdo, a pumpkin-faced servant of The Count, who has a definite affection for the circus. Cox takes to the role with an enthusiasm and expressiveness that will immediately absorb any audience member into the show's comedic veins. The comic timing of his Gourdo is without parallel on this stage, and he adds a real wit to the show with his many current event references that go beyond or outside of the show. However my favorite reference is one that is not current, but shows his range of resources from which he is drawing from. With all that is occurring at the end of the show, listen close when he delivers the Twilight Zone reference, "It's a cookbook".

The most dynamic chemistry with the character of Gourdo comes to light when he is in service of his master, The Count, played by Andrew Nienaber. Partially a Warhol Dracula, partially a fanged creature of the night who allocated more money to his cape than his pants, Nienaber, in the commanding role of The Count consistently comes to the rescue when the show gets off track. He is always there to pull the reigns of the show back on course, steering it in the direction it belongs: toward his crazed obsession with The Dark Lord or toward his tendencies toward perversion. His off topic references are as witty as his servants' and often create the necessary building blocks for them to build off of. Though his line about this show looking like a Dave Barton production may make some audience members feel left in the dark, in actuality this was his brilliance in pointing out that we all need to see more Rude Guerrilla productions.

Other members of The Count's court include Greta, played by Cathy Petz, and Emma, played by Kelly Quigley. Cathy Petz truly shines in her repetitive rendition of Dancing Queen. Just keep applauding and you will get all the Abba you will ever need. Quigley as the virgin turned sexpot is eager to please the audience and never misses a cue to show off her "talents".

Perhaps the most refreshing subplot ever was delivered by Aureilo Locsin and Damon Hill. In a show that definitely requires no comic relief, this duo added a comedic element that takes this show to new heights. The over the top and flamboyant Madame Zorga (Aurelio Locsin) practically steals the show, refusing to be anyone's subplot, and gives a performance that would assert that this and every show in the run is really all about her. Damon Hill plays her half-son, half-dog who carefully reveals that both halves are the same thing in nature anyway: a panting, tongue-hanging animal that is ready to bow and scrape for any opportunity to rub himself on the nearest bitch.

So if you are looking for a good rub, or just a good time, go and see this show. Even see it twice, because you are assured not to get the same exact show, but are assured to get one that will be just as funny. Hell, even the people in the sound booth were laughing aloud. And when they said that there was the stench of a critic in the audience, and told me to my face that I sucked, I could only continue to laugh. But ultimately, I hope those involved with this production know that they earned all of our popsicles this week, regardless of all the begging they did for them on stage.


Things That Go Bump
Rude Guerrilla Theater Company
The Empire Theater
200 N. Broadway, Santa Ana
714-547-4688

October 11 through November 3.
Fridays and Saturdays at 8pm.
Sundays at 2:30pm.
Special 8pm show on Halloween. (Costumed patrons get in for half price)
$12-$15.

Photo by Jay Fraley

A 10-minute sketch stretched to an hour and a half, the success of Rude Guerilla’s commedia dell’arte Halloween production, Things That Go Bump, depends on how well you know the company and how much you like those interminable Saturday Night Live bits that seem to just keep going.

The "plot" centers on the Count (Andrew Nienaber), who has come to the nexus of all evil (Irvine) to summon his master, the Dark Lord. Assisted by his pumpkin-headed servant, Gourdo (Sean Cox), and Greta, the Goth priestess (Cathy Petz), the Count shanghais the virginal Emma (Kelly Quigley), turning her from repressed Vanguard University student into a riding crop-wielding, Sex and the City-obsessed vampire babe. Unfortunately for the Count, the vengeful Gypsy, Madame Zorga (Aurelio Locsin) and her son, Rufus the dog-boy (Damon Hill), are working hard to thwart his efforts.

Despite some funny moments (the criminally underused Mr. Hill howling a doggy version of Only You to Greta; Emma’s double major in math and biblical studies at Vanguard, prompting Cox’s line "Oh, two plus two equals Jesus!"), Things That Go Bump is a mess. After a strong start, the cast quickly loses focus and runs out of steam. The mostly improvised dialogue results in a lot of scenes that go nowhere and take forever getting there, as the cast tries out bits and business that was probably very funny in rehearsal but which, like the Count, never should see the light of day.

When done right, commedia is a highly technical, challenging genre; it’s all about pace and precision, the overriding intention being getting through the scene and on to the next. Relying on improvisation that isn’t makes precision impossible and pace dependent, as the program says, "on the whim of the actors," most of whom seem to believe that, as Cox put it, "if it doesn’t work the first time, it’ll work the 15th time." If only we didn’t have to sit through 14 failed attempts before reaching that magic number.

THINGS THAT GO BUMP AT THE EMPIRE THEATER, 200 N. BROADWAY, SANTA ANA, (714) 547-4688. FRI.-SAT., 8 P.M.; SUN., 2:30 P.M. THROUGH NOV. 3. $12-$15; $6.50 IF YOU SHOW UP ON HALLOWEEN IN COSTUME.