STAGE SCENE
'Haole Boy' creator revives irreverent comedy

By Wayne Harada
Advertiser Entertainment Editor

•	'Haole Boy' A comedy by Mark Pinkosh Premieres at 8 p.m. today; repeats 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays and 4 p.m. Sundays, through Feb. 3 Hawai'i Pacific University Theatre, windward campus, 45-045 Kamehameha Highway $14 adults; $10 seniors, military, students, HPU faculty and staff; $5 HPU students 375-1282

So reviving the Starving Artists Theatre Company classic, starting tonight at Hawai'i Pacific University Theatre in windward O'ahu, meant reshaping, rethinking and repolishing.

"It was our goodbye to Hawai'i," Pinkosh said of the original production. "I think it's a lot more reflective and relaxed now. A lot lighter and more fun. In 1993, it was current. So it had to be tweaked."

Godfrey Hamilton, his life partner and SATCo co-founder, is directing.

The one-person tour de force has emerged as Pinkosh's enduring work, crammed with multi-ethnic gags, multitiered characters, multicultural incidents, and, yes, a multitude of laughs.

"Every time I meet someone from Hawai'i on the Mainland, I'm asked about Auntie Elenore," he said.

The character, he admits, stereotypes the aunties of Hawai'i. But there's a universal streak in who she is and what she does — evidence that Pinkosh hit a nerve and created a classic.

"Everyone tells me she's 'just like my auntie,' so there's identification of growing up in Hawai'i," said Pinkosh, who started acting as a teen and now is pushing 40.

"Even Auntie has kept up with the times; she's got a mobile phone now; she's got a business. She's an entrepreneur."

And still outrageously funny, spitting out a torrent of pidgin like water from a faucet.

"Even with the humorous reflection, there's a certain kind of wisdom that I hope the audiences find," he said. "She's one of a kind, but she's everybody's auntie. Or mother. If you grew up in Hawai'i."

The "if" became quite evident, Pinkosh said, when he staged "Haole Boy," complete with the localisms, for a London cabaret crowd. "There were white people in the audience," he recalled, not in a racist tone but to make his point about origins. "They giggled, they didn't laugh; they figured there was something there and only some people got it, but for most, (the pidgin) was foreign."

And, Pinkosh said, you can't really reword the work into standard English; the talk is part of the concept. Local ties, local tongue — it's an island thing.

Getting back into the "Haole Boy" mold has been somewhat tricky.

"I had to start from scratch," he said. "Once I got into certain segments, it all came together. But it must be like what dancers go through; you know a ballet, you know a particular routine if you've done it before; but you have to get your body in shape. You might know the mood, but you gotta stretch. I had to stretch — and now I'm looking forward to the performances."

Since they moved to Los Angeles, Pinkosh and Hamilton have been making periodic returns to Hawai'i. They also journey to stages in Europe, winning laurels en route.

Last year, they brought "Don't Forget Me" here. Earlier, it was "Road Movie." Minimalist theater, with maximum opportunity to flex the acting muscle.

"And we're still starving artists," Pinkosh said, laughing. "Life is a little better, but I guess we're used to the fact that there's not much money in what we do. You get by on less."

Still, Pinkosh said, the theater is a viable career, despite its hardships and challenges. He often participates in workshops for youths between gigs, including a trek to Texas in November when he was invited to teach at a conference for high school thespians. It was a coincidental reunion with other people who have history here and have carved their niche in the theater, including Kati Kuroda, Sam Wellington and David Furumoto.

"We went to dinner together, compared notes and stories, and had a ball," he said. "And then we slipped slowly into Hawaiian talk (pidgin), getting louder, louder, louder. The others had no idea what we were saying, but we had fun."

He said while it's true that a stage wannabe may be discouraged because of limited opportunities, his message often is about finding a link. "Moms and dads usually know and have met refrigerator repairmen, real estate people, teachers and so on; they seldom meet actors," he said.

"But if you want to be in the arts but can't, there are ways to make a living — you could apply your business interest in administrative work, or get involved in marketing or box-office management, or get into the billing department — instead of the phone company or a retail store. And with so many unemployed now in the real world, the arts isn't a bad place to be."

He cited relatives in the computer business who also have been pink-slipped and chuckled about what his cousin, now employed, told him: "Mark, you're so lucky; you're used to being poor."

"But I'm really happy doing what I'm doing," he said.