On the loose, on the fly for 10 years and counting

By Derek Paiva
Advertiser Entertainment Writer

The Loose Screws theatrical troupe includes, back: from left, Stephanie Curtis-Conching, Chris Doi, Mike Bailie; middle: Meredith Desha, Tony Pisculli; front: R. Kevin Doyle and Garrick Paikai. R. Kevin Doyle Loose Screws X: Ten Pin 8 p.m. today and Saturday The ARTS at Marks Garage $11 ($1 discount if you wear or bring bowling paraphernalia) 523-1004

So, grab a can of Lysol for those infinitely-used rental shoes as Honolulu's longtime saviors of improvisational comedy celebrate a decade without a script in "Loose Screws X: Ten Pin." That's right, Homer. The theme is bowling.

Founding members O'Malley, R. Kevin Doyle and Stephanie Curtis-Conching shared a few of their favorite, funniest or altogether oddest Loose Screws memories with TGIF ... straight, with no spares.

Doyle: We were once asked to perform regularly at an Italian restaurant downtown. For whatever reasons, the shows couldn't find an audience. One night, there were only two people sitting at the bar having a conversation. Asked if they were there to see the show, they more or less ignored us. We plowed forward anyway, forcing them to give us the occasional suggestion. We decided our audience count was "negative 2." That was kind of our low point.

Conching: Often, the most humorous and disastrous shows are those where the group who hired us thinks we can be background music. In order for us to use the suggestions of the audience, we need to have the audience suggest stuff. We'd get calls for dinner parties for large groups, and their guests wouldn't participate in our activities.

Doyle: A long story (here) is something ... we refer to as "The Charo Incident."

Conching: Excitedly, we took a gig for the holiday party of a local cruise line. We'd be on stage with hundreds of people watching and participating in what we enjoyed doing! We thought we'd knock 'em dead.

Doyle: First of all, I need to stress that Charo is most likely entirely unaware that we exist, or that we were at this event. ... The event coordinator told us that we would be going on first, before Charo. This was a good plan. We are ... better (as an) opening act than (as) a "headline" act at this sort of event. ...

Anyhow ... Charo arrives, and the coordinator puts her on first! A consummate, expert performer, she came on with great energy, immediately launched into "Feliz Navidad," and tried to get the audience into it, with limited success. She followed up with "The Macarena," which was at its height in those days.

Conching: But Charo couldn't even get the group to do the Macarena with her.

Doyle: With much effort, she managed to get 10 or 15 drunken audience members dancing (and later) about half the room involved. ... There was one bright spot, though. Charo had gotten the audience worked up. Unfortunately, they decided that before we went on, the head of the company was going to say "a few brief words." Thirty minutes later, we were on.

Conching: We did our set to a bunch of people who really only wanted to drink and talk story with each other.

Doyle: They were more interested in the buffet line and the open bar. After we finally managed to get a decent sized Iaugh, I yelled, "Thank you! Good night!" and we ran into the kitchen and hid. On the plus side, we got paid.

O'Malley: A good onstage memory I have is from the "Loose Screws: Kabuki" show. We were at the end of a particularly bloody scene, and I was playing ... a rogue samurai. I had killed my brother by stabbing him in the back. I think I had slain another couple of people along the way, too. And I was now being haunted by the ghost of my brother. Breaking down in front of my dear, depressed mother, I begged her forgiveness, drew the sword that I'd used to kill my brother, and said, "Look, look, his blood is still on the blade. I only deserve to die." And I really expected, based on the way (a fellow Loose Screw) was playing the mother, that she would say, "Oh, yes, I forgive you! You've confessed!" But she turned to the side and said, "At least have the decency to do it yourself." So we finished the play with a ritual suicide.

The audience took it pretty well. It was actually a little bit of a cathartic thing, because everybody had come to hate that character by then anyway.

Reach Derek Paiva at dpaiva@honoluluadvertiser.com or 525-8005.