LA Weekly review, OFFICE SONATA:

The first thing you notice about Danny Cistone’s glossy NYC advertising-agency set, for Andy Chmelko’s workplace satire, is how the clocks showing London and Tokyo time have stopped, and how the minute hands are not aligned — even though the two cities’ time zones only differ by hours. Assuming this is deliberate, it sets a tone for the blazing dysfunction of this office, which is a cauldron of — and haven for — unfettered sadism. Petty employee errors are punished by the arrival of “The Birdman,” who plants himself by the offender’s desk, then follows the victim to the restroom, and even home, with an index finger permanently raised in the victim’s face. Evidently, punishment takes a higher priority than productivity. Other offenders are hooded, handcuffed and dragged away. There are some lovely touches, such as uber-hyper Marisa (Amanda Randall) ordering her assistant (Steve Eshenbaugh) to “call my children and tell them I love them.” And one scene has the stuff of classic farce, where bored Martin (Eshenbaugh) logs on to a porn site which infects every computer in the building with a fountain of filth — with Martin’s name attached. The scene is enriched by live dancing girls melting through the office walls. The play flies on such recognizable aspects of every workplace, thanks to Scott Werve’s fine direction of the heroic ensemble.

Backstage West review, OFFICE SONATA:

Screwball comedy battles edgy satire and lighthearted romantic drama for dominance in (OFFICE SONATA) the West Coast premiere of Andy Chmelko's 2005 escapade about office life. The wacky moments are sketch-like, energetic, and funny.

The game cast is sharp and stands apart from the loose story line that investigates the cubicle-dominated population at Empie Advertising. Steve Eshenbaugh earns laughs beyond the script's capabilities by throwing himself into the part of Martin, the put-upon peon. His frenetic movements and harried facial expressions deftly border on the absurd. Also intriguing is Amanda Randall as the junk-food-addict boss, who appropriately injects most of her lines with enough venom to wound her underlings

Danny Cistone and Davis Campbell's attractive, creative set provides an impressive boost through cubicles, flanked by an elevator that opens and closes, and an expansive file cabinet, which opens into the hidden prison. And there are several monitors throughout the stage that are used to broadcast companywide announcements -- some of the funnier moments, thanks to actor Erin Holt.