In many cases, the superhero narrative turns a reluctant human into a life-changing force for good with the discovery of a special power. Psychokinesis, invisibility, shape-shifting and teleportation are often found within the soul of a mere mortal now loaded with a virtuous arsenal.
But what if that superpower is the propensity to love without inhibitions, to slither past loneliness and isolation in the hopes of a warm, gentle embrace? Maybe it’s simply the desire to be comfortable in one’s own skin, because sometimes you just want to “wipe the green away.” Those aspirations might not be as sexy as the ability to leap tall buildings in a single bound, but they are just as critical.
“Lizard Boy,” TheatreWorks Silicon Valley’s first production in 19 months, and the first of artistic director Tim Bond’s new tenure, is an absolute delight, a humorous story that challenges comic book hero mythology and connects those objectives deeply through three performers who are big on talent and bold on ideas.
Justin Huertas is the phenomenal mind behind the show, a multi-hyphenate who unleashes a character on the world who is the ultimate outsider. In addition to writing the book, music and lyrics, he portrays the reluctant hero Trevor, and plays guitar and cello.
Trevor has lived a life of solitude, “just a boy who looks like a lizard.” His one big adventure came in the form of a freak accident with a dragon from Mt. St. Helens. It was a conflict that left him with green scales on top of his naturally brown skin. Those scales make for plenty of awkward conversations, but he fits in perfectly at the annual MonsterFest, his only outing, where the denizens totally dig his “costume.”
Yet the other parts of the year begin to present a challenge as his desires become more substantial. He yearns for deeper connections, which leads to a Grindr profile, leaving him a bit nonplussed that adding a half inch to reflect his actual height isn’t an option.
A match with Cary (William A. Williams) ensues. Cary is a charismatic and handsome gent who has no pretense about his desires, rockin’ tight blue underwear at the onset. This immediacy is too much for Trevor, even if his Grindr profile accidentally suggested otherwise.
Another dynamic that Trevor is dealing with is a singer haunting his dreams, the aptly named Siren (Kirsten “Kiki” deLohr Helland), a golden-throated phenom who shines brightly in silky red. Both Cary and Trevor make their way to The Crocodile nightclub where Siren is performing, ultimately leading to a battle for the survival of the world.
The power of the magnificent and inventive story, which originated from a 2011 commission from Seattle Repertory Theatre and a 2015 premiere there, is the musicianship of its performers and fluid, controlled staging from director Brandon Ivie. Every item on the stage is a story-telling instrument, and there is more in play than a conventional guitar and ukulele strums. Kazoos, a toy piano, a melodica and some nifty beat-boxing all show up with gratifying results, surrounded by a terrific lighting design by Robert J. Aguilar and Jeff Mockus’ all-encompassing sound design.
The vocals of the trio are loaded with tight harmonies and individual flourishes, the indie rock music leaning heavily on witty word play. Helland in particular does some serious heavy lifting, showcasing a stellar high register that others build from. All this music forms what becomes a tender love story, set among many Seattle touchstones, which makes one long for dreamy sunsets on Puget Sound while enjoying a delicious cheeseburger from Dick’s. Huertas clearly embraces the beauty of his city, with the the weird and wacky elements transpiring in the shadow of the Space Needle.
As wonderful and satisfying as the next-level musicianship is, it’s the everyman approach to the story that makes “Lizard Boy” so poignant, so delightful. In this story, Huertas rails against the conventional nature of what a superhero needs to be.
In this case, it’s Filipino American with dark, scaly skin who fights to save the world. And when it comes time to survey all he’s achieved, Trevor stands proudly and removes his glasses to take it all in. But then he puts them back on quickly.
Turns out, he needs them to see.
David John Chávez is chair of the American Theatre Critics Association. Twitter @davidjchavez.
‘LIZARD BOY’
By Justin Huertas, presented by TheatreWorks Silicon Valley
Through: Oct. 31
Where: Mountain View Center for the Performing Arts, 500 Castro St.
Tickets: $30-$100 ($25 for streaming); 650-463-1960, www.theatreworks.org
Source: www.mercurynews.com