Steven Berkoff

Most men on location in Acapulco, filming something as mindless as "Rambo II," would probably spend their off hours with a margarita or a Magdalena on the beach, or drowning the bad taste by bellying up to a bar and letting it go at that. But Steven Berkoff isn't most men and he doesn't let things go. So he wrote a play instead--not about the making of "Rambo II," but about the extras and bit players and blow-hards with whom he traded chatter at the bar.

The subtitle is "A Masterclass in Evil," so it's not like you're expecting Wilford Brimley, or Mr. Rogers. Make way for Mr. Evil, villain-for-hire Steven Berkoff, the actor with the gargoyle's voice and the blazing eyes, the man who puts the tense in intensity, for whom the concept of over-the-top has, in fact, no known top. Berkoff's entertaining if somewhat monomaniacal new solo piece goes by the name "Shakespeare's Villains," now in a monthlong engagement at the Odyssey Theatre Ensemble.

The subtitle is "A Masterclass in Evil," so it's not like you're expecting Wilford Brimley, or Mr. Rogers. Make way for Mr. Evil, villain-for-hire Steven Berkoff, the actor with the gargoyle's voice and the blazing eyes, the man who puts the tense in intensity, for whom the concept of over-the-top has, in fact, no known top. Berkoff's entertaining if somewhat monomaniacal new solo piece goes by the name "Shakespeare's Villains," now in a monthlong engagement at the Odyssey Theatre Ensemble.

Steven Berkoff, dressed in drag in his play "Massage," looks like an aging alligator. He's supposed to be a British housewife who earns extra change in the sex trade, working at a dubious massage parlor. But any client who took one look at this "masseuse," with her oily mien and smug glances, would probably run in the other direction. Not that Berkoff is going for realism here. "Massage," at the Odyssey Theatre, is a highly stylized cartoon.

Like John Steppling and Athol Fugard, Steven Berkoff's playwriting process includes the directing of his own work, shaping its style on stage as well as on page. In all these cases, it's fascinating to see other directors tackle further productions. Brian D. Scott's guidance of the Powerhouse's production of Berkoff's "Lunch" shows not only the one-act's durability, but his own firm grasp on the play's structure, tempos and rhythms.

As a performer, British director-playwright Steven Berkoff is an odd mix of brilliant mime, bawdy vaudevillian and obnoxious child. A really obnoxious child. Best known here for staging his long-running "Kvetch" at the Odyssey Theatre, Berkoff's adaptations of Kafka, Aeschylus and Poe and his direction of Shakespeare plays have garnered him an international reputation.

Los Angeles has been good to Steven Berkoff. The edgy British actor-playwright-director, best known for his virulent portraits of working-class anomie, has staged many of his plays here--including "Acapulco," "East" and the long-running "Kvetch," all at the Odyssey Theatre Ensemble. But he's almost unknown as a thespian. In fact, although Berkoff is a popular staple of the British stage, he's been on the boards only once in L.A., in "Decadence" in 1984.

"We are beset by an array of problems that don't always sit and wait in the queue in your mind to be solved, but are liable at any instant to jump out of line and shout for your attention, even though in the meantime your present task may be ruined." So wrote Steven Berkoff in the program for "Kvetch," his long-running and turbulently funny hit at the Odyssey in West Los Angeles. My task, the other night, was to assess the current cast of "Kvetch."

Anyone who has been stumped by the work of Steven Berkoff--its bombast, its outrageousness, its virulence, its scatology--might find the Sunday 3 p.m. edition of "The South Bank Show" on Bravo cable (repeated May 29 at 7 p.m. and 12:30 a.m.) a guide to understanding this extreme iconoclast.

Steven Berkoff, dressed in drag in his play "Massage," looks like an aging alligator. He's supposed to be a British housewife who earns extra change in the sex trade, working at a dubious massage parlor. But any client who took one look at this "masseuse," with her oily mien and smug glances, would probably run in the other direction. Not that Berkoff is going for realism here. "Massage," at the Odyssey Theatre, is a highly stylized cartoon.

As a performer, British director-playwright Steven Berkoff is an odd mix of brilliant mime, bawdy vaudevillian and obnoxious child. A really obnoxious child. Best known here for staging his long-running "Kvetch" at the Odyssey Theatre, Berkoff's adaptations of Kafka, Aeschylus and Poe and his direction of Shakespeare plays have garnered him an international reputation.

Los Angeles has been good to Steven Berkoff. The edgy British actor-playwright-director, best known for his virulent portraits of working-class anomie, has staged many of his plays here--including "Acapulco," "East" and the long-running "Kvetch," all at the Odyssey Theatre Ensemble. But he's almost unknown as a thespian. In fact, although Berkoff is a popular staple of the British stage, he's been on the boards only once in L.A., in "Decadence" in 1984.

Like John Steppling and Athol Fugard, Steven Berkoff's playwriting process includes the directing of his own work, shaping its style on stage as well as on page. In all these cases, it's fascinating to see other directors tackle further productions. Brian D. Scott's guidance of the Powerhouse's production of Berkoff's "Lunch" shows not only the one-act's durability, but his own firm grasp on the play's structure, tempos and rhythms.

Most men on location in Acapulco, filming something as mindless as "Rambo II," would probably spend their off hours with a margarita or a Magdalena on the beach, or drowning the bad taste by bellying up to a bar and letting it go at that. But Steven Berkoff isn't most men and he doesn't let things go. So he wrote a play instead--not about the making of "Rambo II," but about the extras and bit players and blow-hards with whom he traded chatter at the bar.

Walking through the airy lobby of the Odyssey Theatre, Steven Berkoff looks like he is ready for a fight. Short-statured and athletic, wearing garish warm-up pants popular with bodybuilders and a sleeveless black jacket, Berkoff suggests an urban warrior looking for turf violators. Yet as he lopes toward the theater space where his new play, "Acapulco," opens today, the British writer-director-actor is softly solicitous of a friend who has just finished watching a rehearsal.

Anyone who has been stumped by the work of Steven Berkoff--its bombast, its outrageousness, its virulence, its scatology--might find the Sunday 3 p.m. edition of "The South Bank Show" on Bravo cable (repeated May 29 at 7 p.m. and 12:30 a.m.) a guide to understanding this extreme iconoclast.

Walking through the airy lobby of the Odyssey Theatre, Steven Berkoff looks like he is ready for a fight. Short-statured and athletic, wearing garish warm-up pants popular with bodybuilders and a sleeveless black jacket, Berkoff suggests an urban warrior looking for turf violators. Yet as he lopes toward the theater space where his new play, "Acapulco," opens today, the British writer-director-actor is softly solicitous of a friend who has just finished watching a rehearsal.

"I wanted to do something wicked." Everyone has such feelings at one time or another, but we'll just have to assume that directing John Guare's "Bosoms and Neglect" (opening today at the Odyssey Theatre) is about as far as Ron Sossi is willing to go when it comes to going public with confessions of nasty desires. "I wanted to do this play three years ago, but couldn't cast it," he said. "I wound up doing 'Marie and Bruce' instead.

"We are beset by an array of problems that don't always sit and wait in the queue in your mind to be solved, but are liable at any instant to jump out of line and shout for your attention, even though in the meantime your present task may be ruined." So wrote Steven Berkoff in the program for "Kvetch," his long-running and turbulently funny hit at the Odyssey in West Los Angeles. My task, the other night, was to assess the current cast of "Kvetch."

Early in his play "Kvetch," Steven Berkoff defines its title as "anything that tends to change the control one ordinarily has over one's body and emotions." In a more popular and less specific sense, it is a Yiddish word that has transcended other languages to broadly signify "to grumble" or "to complain." In the Berkoff piece, which opened Saturday at the Odyssey III, it takes on both meanings--with fiercely funny and sardonic results.