Press
Sensitive Trevor Allen came of age at "the happiest place on earth."
He tells his story in the thoroughly engaging Working for the Mouse
onstage at the Exit Theatre
Review by Leslie Katz
San Francisco Examiner
December 5, 2002
An earlier version of this one-man show was a hit at the San Francisco Fringe Festival in 1996, and it's clear why Allen's friends and associates egged him on to expand it to a full-length piece. He's got more than a magic bag full of fun anecdotes, and the charisma of Peter Pan to pull off telling them.
Peter Pan proved to be the bane of Allen's existence. At 17, working at Disneyland, Allen's goal was to become the adorable boy who never grows up. But the road there was paved with obstacles: "Be careful what you wish upon a star for," warns the advertising for this amusing show, presented by the East Bay's Impact Theatre and directed by Kent Nicholson.
Wearing shorts, a T-shirt, his "Trevor" name tag and knee-pads (which get quite the workout), Allen blazes through his "mouse tales" in this 90-minute, intermissionless extravaganza.
Of course, he exposes some of the juicy, nasty things we've already heard about the world's most famous theme park, from the non-union minimum wages to the ungodly hours (he calls in his "availability" at 5:30 a.m.) to the fact that no controlled substances are allowed. (Never mind that he witnesses Pinocchio doing lines with Dumbo in his bathroom when he hosts a party at his home.)
And by gosh, those character suits are hot! The first character Allen gets to be is Pluto. On one of his early outings in the furry, 6-foot, yellow suit, he has a memorable encounter with a little "Make A Wish" kid, which tugged at his heartstrings and has him hooked.
But Allen's park "buddy," Gary, a curmudgeonly old-timer, quickly advises him of three additional, unwritten rules: "Never let 'em get behind you," "Never stand in direct sunlight" and "Watch your ass."
Allen does get tired of his dog days: "I was Pluto in my own private Hades," he says, describing how he longed for "voice clearance" to play a talking character -- perhaps even Pan. One of the show's funniest sequences has Allen going through character auditions, getting rejected for the Merlin, chimney sweep and Prince Charming roles.
However, he scores as the Mad Hatter. What a coup. Though it's got that huge top hat, the suit is a lot easier to deal with than the cumbersome Pluto costume. Best of all, he gets to hang out with his Alice in Wonderland cohorts, the white rabbit and Alice herself. It doesn't hurt that Alice is played by Tammy, possibly the hottest babe on park grounds.
He and his Wonderland pals even are encouraged to talk, and they create endless improvisations and "story sets." Allen gets his dialogue down to the point where he's perfected material for 8-year-old agnostics who love to tell the Mad Hatter he's not real.
Meanwhile, his crush on Tammy grows by the hour. In an attempt to impress her (and his other colleagues), he hosts an employee party at his little apartment, much to the chagrin of his roommates, who ultimately give him the boot after some 300 people show up.
There are other high jinks, too, including the unauthorized galavanting on the set of "Pirates of the Caribbean," for which Allen and some pals get busted -- and interrogated. It's no wonder some of Allen's fellow "cast members" (remember, no one at Disneyland is a worker), call the place "Mousewitz."
Eventually, Allen longs for places beyond the Magic Kingdom. He goes off to college, where he takes up theater. (His Shakespeare class is taught by Mr. Brady, Robert Reed!) And things change drastically when he comes back to the park the next summer.
Through all his travails, Allen maintains an infectious energy. Set to music, his brief water-slurping breaks from the show's action are as entertaining as his fascinating stories -- truly the stuff of not-so-fairy tales.
E-mail us at trevor-at-blackboxtheatre.com