(:)(:)(:) for “Steve Silver’s Beach Blanket Babylon” at Club Fugazi in San Francisco’s North Beach. The best part about this play is eating at Il Pollaio, a North Beach long time hole-in-the-wall around the corner from the play at 555 Columbus Avenue (near the corner of Green) which I give four snouts (it would need atmosphere to get another snout). Il Pollaio has an unforgettable eggplant salad with an amazing amount of garlic (imperative to share it with your date if you want to get laid that night), spectacular sour dough bread, crispy perfect roast chickens and fresh lovely salads (also a gorgeous waiter). Our meal for two came to $32 including tip with wine.
The play on the other hand, is notable only for its institution-ness, gigantic headdresses (the Tina Turner hair must have been 8 feet high) and some outstanding vocal talent. Otherwise, it’s strictly pitched at mainstream American tourists, nothing that wouldn’t get put on CBS primetime. I also surprisingly found it vaguely homophobic and overtly racist (Bill says it wasn’t homophobic, just run of the mill gay jokes, references to Gavin Newsome-style weddings, Brokeback Mountain and King Louis being gay because he wears pink all were HILARIOUS, gag).
Some of the political humor was funny though–we liked the designated hot bod girl as Nancy Pelosi singing Leader of the Pack in all leather on a motorcycle backed up by Barbara Boxer and Diane Feinstein (who was, I confess, a man in drag). Also liked an Elvis-style Bill Clinton with massive hair getting in the way of Hillary’s election by flirting with every woman in sight (I forget what they sang).
For some reason seeing this play reminds me of my friend Abe Opincar’s take on the city, “San Francisco is full of Americans pretending they’re in Europe and Europeans pretending they’re in America.”
This play has an audience full of mid-western and central valley-ites (California’s midwest) pretending they’re in San Francisco.