Fringe, Reviewed: It Was All Downhill After Fleetwood Mac

[ theater ]

It Was All Downhill After Fleetwood Mac, by Brian Shapiro

Attended: Tues. Sept. 9, 8 p.m., Paris Wine Bar; closes Sat. Sept. 20, 2 p.m.

My father was catapulted into the center of the L.A. entertainment industry universe, and I was taken along for a ride.

WE THINK:  Much of Brian Shapiro's description of Life with Father is fascinating and fun, albeit a little sad. It's "my story about the stories my father told and sold," he explains, "not just to those around him, but to himself." Shapiro the Elder achieved fortune and notoriety managing the historic rise of Fleetwood Mac, but never reached that level again, despite desperate-stab projects with hair bands, Carrie Wilson, Pat Boone and a (thankfully) failed effort to televise Texas executions.

Growing up spending weekends in Dad's jet-fuelled world and weekdays at Mom and Stepdad's house, where "life was lived at a slightly different pace," must have been dizzying and depressing.

Unfortunately — despite a program note assuring us that "what's missing will not matter" — Shapiro leaves out a lot of personal material for unclear reasons. His mother gets only that one mention, and his father's personality never emerges; he talks about learning from his failures, but doesn't explain what they were. His program bio, which I read afterward, reveals an adulthood of success that's never hinted at in the show — the last we know, he was a failed roadie in his early 20's. And what happened to Dad, where is he now? 

Nevertheless, it's a fun 65-minute romp, with a performance smartly sculpted by director Kelly Jennings, who varies the pace and expertly blends song snippets and a Power Point presentation into the monologue. A section we're told is better read than heard is especially fun, because Brian is free to wordlessly comment with sounds — "mmmm," "aaahh"— and arched eyebrows as we scan each revelation. Here too, though, what's missing jars: a few pictures of young Brian, but none of Dad or his four wives (the last three, young trophy wives whom he promised he would make into stars — I'd love to have seen them). For a show detailing the fact that the speaker lived an extraordinary life, generic pics of the Hollywood sign and the Golden Gate Bridge are less than compelling.

Shapiro tells his story with a microphone, which seems unnecessary in a 35-seat venue but aids the high-energy smarmy Hollywood persona that he uses to describe Dad's excesses — but then smartly drops the artifice, and the mic, at the end, finally becoming a real person in the room with us. The time seems right for open confession, but Shapiro stills leaves us wondering, and wanting more.