Charles Digal, Staff Writer

Suppose your family was taken hostage and placed on live television. Survival would depend on the broadcast’s rating; low viewers equal life, while more results in death. The paradox lies in our inherent allure to violent content; we are a culture that is obsessed with it; it’s good TV. Who is to blame for catering this attitude is anyone’s guess. We’re bound to have an argument that could last hours and just like the conclusion to ‘Popcorn,’ no one will take responsibility after all is said and done.

This is the kind of issue explored in the play. ‘Popcorn’ is a satire on the relationship of violence between the media and society. It delves into the controversial, yet painstakingly genuine debate over which respective side is largely at fault for supplying today’s psyche with blood and gore, but in a humorous fashion.

After four weeks of preparation, PCC’s theater department unveiled ‘Popcorn,’ originally written by British comedian writer Ben Elton, to a limited crowd at the Sexson Auditorium on Friday, March 28.

The play takes place in Bruce Delimitri’s home, a violence-driven director played by Kevin Trang, who just won an Oscar. The chic Beverly Hills setting could rival the living room of Uncle Phil’s on ‘The Fresh Prince of Bel Air.’

At the heart of a collectively stellar ensemble are two star powerhouses, Tim Hopkins and Lindsay Roman, who easily overshadow key performances. The duo shone brightly as the infamous “mall murderers,” two impulsive killers satiating their lust for murder, love and glory. They were exceptionally flawless as their individual charm complemented each other effortlessly, a comical version of Bonnie and Clyde.

Hopkins, who played the amusing, gun-toting redneck Wayne, gleamed brightly as the mentally defunct killer. Everything from the red flannel shirt and army boots to the rich, southern accent, and the playful foolishness of Wayne’s demeanor had been crafted to a mathematical science.

Roman, who eerily resembles ‘Juno’ star Ellen Page, was cute and funny as Hopkins’ counterpart, the lively Scout. She tackled the play with veteran poise, professionalism and realism that it’s hard to believe ‘Popcorn’ was the theatrical debut for the 19-year-old actress.

Hardly taking their characters away from the pages of their script, Mike Alva and Maria Flores, who play Delimitri’s producer Karl Brezner and daughter Velvet respectively, were stiff and unconvincing. Their expressions were dry and their movements were timid. Consequently, it gave ‘Popcorn’ a slow and uninspiring beginning. Alva hardly lived up to Brezner’s snooty, avant-garde attitude, while Flores acted more or less like a moderate Paris Hilton.
Nevertheless, ‘Popcorn’ gathered momentum soon after Delimitri was depicted to have received his fictional Oscar in a wonderfully manufactured re-enactment of the legendary awards ceremony.

From there, the play took full shape as Delimitri’s household was taken hostage by the same forces he aggrandized. In fact, it was the “mall murderers” who inspired Delimitri’s film that landed his Oscar.

Interestingly, we begin to see the human side of Delimitri’s ambitiousness. In mimicking a potentially real-life situation, Trang was superb in demonstrating Delimitri’s shift from a director motivated by carnage to a concerned and worried patriarch of his family.

Give credit to Duke Stroud, who directed the play, as he managed to cast a seemingly harmonious group that was able to elicit both hilarity and contemplation towards a sensitive social dilemma. As a result, the play was a successful delight.

Those in attendance, including myself, sat transfixed on each scene, while still managing to burst into laughter, despite its serious undertones.

Although Stroud said a few pages were left out, it hardly disrupted the flow of the play as the group responded readily, easily picking up wherever the last left off.