Theatre in Review: Goldor $ Mythika: A Hero is Born (New Georges/New Ohio Theatre)A true crime story is converted into a hard-sell theatrical extravaganza in Goldor $ Mythika: A Hero is Born. The title characters are a pair of Indiana losers who, thanks to their obsession with Dungeons and Dragons, reimagine themselves as all-powerful warrior figures. Suddenly, they aren't just Bart and Holly, stuck in dead-end jobs as the economy sputters toward recession; they are Goldor and Mythika, heroes to whom the rules of everyday life do not apply. To finance their fantasy existence, they boost $6 million from the armed transport company where they both work. On the lam, they become folk heroes to fast-food workers and clerks at big-box stores all over the country, a kind of Bonnie and Clyde for the digital age. It's such a golden piece of material that it hardly needs the extensive tarting up it gets from the author, Lynn Rosen, and director, Shana Gold. Goldor $ Mythika has a kind of puzzle-box construction and a fractured narrative line: It consists of flashbacks, flashbacks within flashbacks, flash forwards, video sequences, lighting and sound effects, frequent appearances by a teenage boy whose connection to the story is not made apparent until the eleventh hour, and a narrator-cum-DJ who offers running color commentary on the action. Some of this is amusing, and Rosen has some mordant thoughts to impart about an America where workers will endure almost any humiliation or abuse to hold onto unsatisfying jobs that don't even provide a minimum standard of living. It's not for nothing that, during one long sequence set at a party, a television screen shows coverage of the Bernard Madoff scandal; even before the play begins, the characters are screwed, and most of them know it. But, possibly because Rosen and Gold (who also developed the piece with Rosen) are so busy piling on the effects, they forget to provide their gimmick-filled entertainment with the emotional anchor that would make it all work. I mean, of course, the relationship between Bart and Holly that blossoms into a tragic folie à deux. If we got more of a chance see the world through their eyes, to grasp the hold that fantasy role-playing has over them, we might care more about them as they hurtle recklessly toward their rampage's only possible end point. Instead, it's all gags, all the time: The DJ kicks off the show by inviting audience members on stage for a dance. When a group of blue collar characters stand around, they are made to say, "Blue collar chatter, blue collar chatter," as if this were the height of hilarity. A scene set in a chain restaurant called Peach N' Peppers ("Named for Peach 'n' Pat Pepper, a really real couple from America, Alabama with a love of comfort food and a taste for affordable yum.") falls flat because it is like no such restaurant on earth; among other things, the waiters are made to wear antennae and are given names like Funbeam. Goldor $ Mythika has the dimensions of a cartoon without the sting of satire. Furthermore, scene after scene suggests that Rosen isn't all that familiar with the world she is writing about, and her sense of satire lacks any bite. Her depiction of life at Bart and Holly's workplace -- with vodka-fueled holiday blowouts and a boss who is creepily obsessed with Holly -- lacks any real menace. Very little of the dialogue rings true; when a fine actress like Kristin Griffith, as Holly's loyal aunt, lacks credibility, it's not the actress' fault. Similarly, Bobby Moreno is gifted with a magnetic stage presence, but his DJ character is a fountain of unnecessary smart remarks that quickly pall. When a factory whistle is heard, Bart says to Holly, "Just the night shift starting at the mill. That sadness will never be us." "Never," agrees Holly. "I could say something, but I won't," interjects the DJ, going for a laugh, but the previous scene has established all we need to know about the built-on-sand nature of the young couple's dreams. Designed to add a touch of street cred, however spurious, the DJ's comments come across as largely redundant. Because Gold maintains a headlong pace and because the kinetic production design keeps things hopping, Goldor $ Mythika isn't really dull. The cast is energetic, to say the least. Aside from those already mentioned. Garrett Neergaard and Jenny Seastone Stern make Bart and Holly into believable bottom-rung-of-the-ladder types, although it would be nice to see a little more madness in their eyes at times. Anyway, Nick Francone's set design, with its hidden boxes, pivoting walls, and rolling units, is full of surprises, and Lenore Doxsee's lighting, which makes extensive use of floor patterns and a wide color palette, adds an extra touch of visual complexity. The media design, by Piama Habibullah and Jared Mezzocchi, presents a cascade of images, including newspaper headlines, the transcript of a 911 phone call, news broadcasts, and various outdoor vistas. Tristan Raines' well-observed costume design includes some truly dispiriting work uniforms. Shane Rettig's sound design provides amplification for his original music as well as the DJ's narration; other effects include a police siren and a helicopter. It's worth noting that Goldor $ Mythika becomes modestly touching as its protagonists' dreams begin to crumble. It's also worth noting that the play comes to an open-ended conclusion with a note that the story is to be continued. Is this only part one of a longer saga? One wonders what could possibly be left to say about these characters; Goldor $ Mythika is never short on invention and is loaded with ideas, but its creators are too ADD in their approach to sort them all out in any meaningful fashion.--David Barbour 
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