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San Francisco Bay Guardian

Review by Robert Avila

“Trevor Allen's reprise of his nifty 2002 solo show can with justice be called amusing, skillful, and contagiously warmhearted”

Ask the man behind the curtain, or the heatstroke victim in the dog suit: at Disneyland, not seeing is believing. Hence, you may not believe your ears (or Pluto's) on this unofficial guided tour behind the scenes of the nation's theme park—"amusement" park doesn't do justice to America's mythical-mechanical self image, repressed warts and all. On the other hand, Trevor Allen's reprise of his nifty 2002 solo show can with justice be called amusing, skillful, and contagiously warmhearted. This last aspect is perhaps the biggest surprise. The Bay Area actor-playwright recounts three years spent as a part-time cast member in Anaheim, after all—a.k.a. "the happiest place on earth"?—working his way up the side of a bleak and humorless corporate Matterhorn, a never-never land to anything smacking of progressive social engineering. But for all its passing digs at Disney, Allen's slyly unassuming coming-of-age story prefers to celebrate the characters behind the characters: his fellow workers young and old, stoned and misshapen, or, like Snow White, just dangerously cute. C is for "See it real soon." Y? Because it closes this weekend.

December 10, 2003

 

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