Little Theatre’s ‘Bleacher Bums’ an easy home run

With "Bleacher Bums," Las Vegas Little Theatre continues its current season's winning streak.

This 1977 comedy (revised in 1998) dumps us in the laps of a group of Chicago Cubs fans, rooting their team on against the St. Louis Cardinals with bets, cheers and philosophical discussions. The script, by actor Joe Mantegna and the Organic Theatre Company of Chicago, doesn't have much to say, but it says it with expert crude wit and an actor's grace. With a skilled cast, it's an easy home run.

Director Paul Thornton does the most important job right: He convinces us we're watching not a bunch of performers trying to be funny, but a random cluster of genuine baseball nerds.

Jim Williams, for example, is the oldest of the group, and, as Zig, he makes us believe that he's spent his entire life in the rafters. Zig is a likable fanatic, and Williams brings out the eccentricities and the decency of the man. You feel his pain when he loses his bets.

Will Klundt is equally fanatical as Marvin, but he's opposite in temperament. Klundt shows us Marvin's dangerous side. You sense that this man is capable of doing horrific things to get what he wants. With his keyed-up mannerisms and his angry, clipped speech, Klundt expertly exudes danger, physically and verbally.

Scott Miller as Decker comes across as perhaps the most reasonable among the group. Miller looks like a no-nonsense Marine, and his paternal attitude toward an apparently mentally challenged fellow fan is unusually moving, without getting gooey.

I loved how JD Smith as the announcer wrapped his mouth around words like "Henry Rodriguez," and how Kyle Jones, as an in-your-face cheerleader, dropped his voice on a dime from an effeminate screech to a deep, angry bellow.

Typical of the show's thoroughness is Ron Lindblom's set that gives us more than just bleachers. It gives off the feel of a genuine permanently-structured stadium. And Walter Niejadlik's sound design doesn't sound designed. It comes across as the natural noise of a ball park.

Thornton humanizes most of the production so that in the end, when the show's too-easy moralizing takes hold, we're able to get past the triteness and be moved. We come to care about these people, and the caring rightfully upstages the comedy.

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.