The Barbarians

By: Darryl Reilly

“If you can’t get up and back on the horse, why the fuck did you get on it in the first place?!” cracks one of the many zany characters in playwright Jerry Lieblich’s frenetic, hilarious and provocative performance piece, The Barbarians. The American political scene of the past and present is ruthlessly satirized during a dizzying, hour and 40 minutes in this neo futuristic fantasia; Nixon’s resignation is a motif. Popeye and A Chorus Line are some of the plentiful pop culture references, there are snippets of familiar music including Titanic’s theme and “Hail to the Chief,” and “Trick or Treat for UNICEF” is one of a plethora of antiquated, mirthful throwaway lines. The finale contains a chilling recitation of historical catchphrases; “Gulf of Tonkin,” “I am not a crook,” “Read my lips, no new taxes,” “I did not have sexual relations with that woman,” “Weapons of mass destruction,” “I will build a wall, and Mexico will pay for it,” and “They’re eating the dogs, they’re eating the cats, they’re eating the pets of the people who live there,” are among the infamous greatest hits of U.S. presidential disingenuousness. Guffaws, chuckles and outright laughter abound.

Yale graduate Jerry Lieblich is an emerging, and distinguished playwright whose numerous, prestigious awards include an Edward F. Albee Foundation fellowship. The Barbarians affirms their promise; it is rooted in a (Groucho) Marxian, playful and impactful appreciation of language. Scatological William S. Burroughs-style reveries, science fiction and film noir flourishes, out of nowhere non sequiturs, and deadpan whimsy, course through the rapid dialogue. Amidst the slapstick there is an undercurrent of emotion. Lieblich creates an exhilarating and mournful universe with tap dance numbers, zestfully choreographed by Chloe Claudel. The show was conceived before the 2016 United States presidential election, and its production was delayed due to the pandemic; it arrives at La MaMa at this right time of national discord.

Duck Soup had The Marx Brothers in Freedonia; we are in Bhatvia and Bamerica. A conniving Madame President, a goofy president wearing U.S. flag-adorned athletic wear, a disaffected child actor, a mad scientist in a laboratory, and a caustic puppet suspended above the stage, are some of the dramatis personae. Presiding over everything is an ever present, Our Town-type Stage Manager figure, here called “Witness,” who in meta fashion narrates and comments, while reminding us we are watching a play.

Bespectacled, and wearing dark business attire like a 1950’s bureaucrat, Steve Mellor is colossal as “Witness.” Combining Garrison Keillor’s wry folksiness, Spalding Gray’s detachment and Warren Oates’ mania, Mr. Mellor’s riveting characterization is an awesome demonstration of vocal and physical command. Whether effortlessly tossing off paragraphs of dense, swirling speeches, participating in exacting movement sequences, or veering from funny to severe, Mellor is dazzling. The dynamic ensemble of Chloe Claudel, Jess Barbagallo, Anne Gridley, Jennifer Ikeda and Naren Weiss, all perform their archetypal and sometimes multiple, wacky roles with gusto.

Director Paul Lazar’s physical staging is of madcap vigor and visual élan; dance, movement, character interactions and tableaus, are all rendered with Kubrickian flair. That dimension is enforced by the superior technical elements. Scenic designer Amy Rubin’s deep, black playing area has large, white lightening bolts on the floor and sides; it is a perfect landscape for timeless absurdism. Joe Levasseur’s piercing lighting design swiftly varies, creating a fantastical sheen. Sound designer Johnny Gasper artfully renders the abundance of music and effects for optimum results. CultureHub’s video design is appropriately spacey and cheeky. Costume designer Suzanne Bocanegra provides a glorious array of eye-catching outfits including a skeletal bodysuit, which conjure the looks of the past, present and future.

Jollity and gravity converge in The Barbarians for thoughtful entertainment.

The Barbarians (through March 2. 2025)
Third Ear Theater Co.
La MaMa
Ellen Stewart Theatre, 66 East 4th Street, in Manhattan
For tickets, visit www.thirdear.nyc
Running time: one hour and 40 minutes with no intermission