Lauren Weedman is a very funny woman. Currently appearing at The Studio Theatre in “Bust,” which she also wrote, Weedman is a comedienne, playwright and author whose credits include “The Daily Show,” “Curb Your Enthusiasm” and “Date Night.” In “Bust,” Weedman tells a semi-autobiographical story based on the work she did as a volunteer prisoner advocate in a Southern California correctional institution for women. Weedman begins with her orientation at the prison where she does everything wrong, from wearing inappropriate clothes to talking out of turn and aggravating the overbearing guard.
During the orientation, Weedman shows off her dexterity at creating a vast array of characters. As the volunteers introduce themselves, Weedman becomes Emily, who announces in a basso profundo voice that she wants to bring “light to the darkness.” A moment later Weedman turns herself into Tammy, a high-strung, stay-at-home mom. Then Weedman transforms herself into Irene, a serious former literacy teacher. Weedman’s visions of those women are brilliantly etched and differentiated.
| Onstage |
| ‘Bust’ |
| Where: The Studio Theatre, 1501 14th St. NW |
| When: Through December 18 |
| Info: $35 to $60; 202-332-3300; studiotheatre.org |
Once inside the prison, Weedman again demonstrates her versatility, her ability to create vivid personalities and attitudes with her posture and voice. There’s the friendly Tina, who needs to “get out of prostitution and get treatment for crystal meth.” There’s Gabriela, a calm, dignified woman whom Weedman describes as being “like a yoga instructor,” and who’s in maximum security when first introduced. Whether they warm to her or lie to her, Weedman reveals a loyalty to these prisoners.
There are male prisoners, administrative personnel, even a prison chaplain. Every one gets his or her own credible ethnicity, personality and voice.
When Weedman steps outside the prison, her satire grows more biting. She plays herself on an audition for a Pepsi commercial, as well as her own goofy friend, and the snooty editor of Glamour magazine, who accepts a manuscript Lauren sends her, then alters it completely without the author’s permission.
All of the character changes are done quickly and smoothly under the direction of Allison Narver.
As she speeds through “Bust,” a manic woman on a mission, Weedman’s virtuosity is obvious. Equally obvious and more important is what propels her: her genuine concern about the women she finds in prison.
Weedman jokes about giving these women her home address and raising their children, but clearly she feels an alliance with “her” women, above and beyond the prisoner advocate’s role. It’s that emotional attachment that makes “Bust” far more than a brilliant stand-up comedy routine.
