eviewed by Charles Lonberger

Monologue performances, like “Sugar Happens”, which we caught at the Lee Strasberg Theatre Institute, are denuding experiences. Frequently, these experiences are vehicles for indulgences and exhibitions used to merely grandstand. On rare occasions, however, they prove to be entertaining as well as insightful, as was the case with this one woman vehicle.

“Sugar Happens” purports to be the autobiography of its star, Rachel Bailit. Yet, while most of the life experiences that flash before us through this fiction are, indeed, those of Ms. Bailit, the play was actually written by Sherry Coben, who brings a distinctly New Yorker sensibility to the tale of this New England Jewish girl. The events of Ms. Bailit’s life are excellently crafted by Ms. Coben, who fashions an entertainment out of it that, while filled with bitingly accurate observations about Jewish internet dating services, producers, agents, and people and life in general, consistently picks itself up by the bootstraps and does not allow itself to wallow in self-pity, moving ahead with a deep rooted hope that defies easy categorization yet which is the hallmark of the Jewish people historically.

Coben weaves themes that are almost stereotypical in their observations, like the guilt and pressure that arises from Bailit’s upper class, professional household. Therapy, guilt and neurosis are intermingled, and epitomized by Bailit’s love/hate relationship with her own sexuality, as embodied by her “boobs.” Sex – or the lack of it – is problematical. Heads or tails, she is left with having something to fret about. Despite the humorous veneer of the piece, the self described “Goddess of Blue Balls,” Bailit has serious issues with “separation and loss.” She worries about not connecting with “A guy I never met, who could turn out to be an ex-boyfriend I could get obsessive over.” The underlying attitude of the play is distinctly Freudian, which lends it both its humanity and its accuracy.

But fine as the written material is (although, it must be confessed, the humor does have a stand-up feel to it at times), it is the realization of the lines that holds the audience and the success of the material in the balance. And here, the production comes up a winning hand, as the subject and actress of this show, Rachel Bailit, is brilliant, getting under the audience’s and her role’s skin flawlessly. Her consciousness uncannily becomes ours. Her interpretation of a “Nice Jewish Girl”, a girl to whom “The Joy of Sex” is a torah, sweeps us up into a tale of aspiration, disappointment, and perseverance, through a character that finds the silver lining in every cloud, noting her achievements in “a cruel town” like Los Angeles.

The play begins with Ms. Bailit returning home after playing a hooker for a television show (giving us a generous look at her in the process), rummages through her autobiographical musings before she gets dressed and leaves for yet another (hopefully romantic) date. Around this simple skeleton is built a whole world of insight into performing (“giving it all away”), existing and co-existing. Ms. Bailit makes those in attendance feel what it is like to be human. And this is a very profound gift, one that makes for a unique theatrical experience.

David Strasberg’s direction of the monologue is spare but cleverly expressed, with well selected props. A sole leather chair, a miniature Eiffel Tower, a hip hop cassette – with these few props he creates an entire internal world. It is direction as function, but it is exceptional direction, nonetheless.

Fortunately for Outlook readers, this show is playing every Wednesday night at 7:30, at the Institute at 7936 Santa Monica Blvd. in West Hollywood, near Fairfax, in perpetuity.

In an time where attending a play resembles attending a lecture, “Sugar Happens” gives us theater as an inclusive, rather than a divisive, experience, and true to the mission of the Institute, reminds us, in the performance of Rachel Bailit, what truly great acting really is.

Reservations can be made by calling 323-650-7777.

—Beverly Hills Outlook