‘Satan’s’ jack-of-all-trades could use help

With all the obstacles theater folk have to overcome to be successful, it's depressing when you see an artist creating his own barriers.

Jason DeFreitas is the producer, co-author, co-director, co-star and set, sound, props and video designer of Porcelain Bomb's "Satan's Wedding Ceremony." That's about a half-dozen responsibilities too many.

The show is part-improv, part-scripted (I assume) and part video. An Alabama preacher, Pastor David Richards (played by David Matthews), is trying to inspire a Vegas congregation to give to his Tree of Life Ministry. Trouble is, he's a drug addict, womanizer and possible murderer. His assistant, the Rev. J-Def (DeFreitas), tries, without luck, to keep Richards on the straight and narrow. It all ends, not surprisingly, in a fistfight.

The opening moments make you want to laugh. Who doesn't enjoy poking fun at hypocritical ministries? The audience chairs are church pews, and Richards, in white suit, sunglasses hanging out of his jacket pocket, and drink in hand, greets us with that sort of impersonal, false gaiety for which some television clergy are famous.

But DeFreitas and co-author Matthews display no knowledge of script structure or improvisation. The most obvious jokes -- such as Richards' drunkenness and J-Def's incompetence with the sound equipment -- are repeated ad nauseam. Couldn't the pair at least have gotten someone to contribute some first-rate jokes? It's ironic that DeFreitas recently told the press he long ago tired of traditional theater. This tale about a fallen holy man is about as traditional as you can get. It makes "Greater Tuna" seem avant-garde.

DeFreitas is, I suspect, a major talent when it comes to visual and sound effects. He has a unique point-of-view with video clips and set pieces. (Here, the design is rooted in material that suggests a penis, about which J-Def remarks to the audience, "You got a problem with that?") But the effects exist for no reason than to show them off. DeFreitas needs a director to help shape and discipline his obvious love of technical theater and a playwright to give him something to produce his effects for.

Both Matthews and DeFreitas are promising performers. They might have been able to wring some poignancy out of this foolishness had they gotten a detached pair of trusted eyes to guide them. As the head of Porcelain Bomb Productions, DeFreitas could get so much more of what he wants if he himself did less.

Anthony Del Valle can be reached at DelValle@aol.com. You can write him c/o Las Vegas Review-Journal, P.O. Box 70, Las Vegas, NV 89125.