Review: Larissa FastHorse’s ‘Fake It’ has historic debut at the Taper

Timing is everything in comedy, and one wonders how much funnier Larissa FastHorse’s “Fake It Until You Make It” might have been had it been produced at the Mark Taper Forum in 2023 when it was originally scheduled.

The world has shifted off its axis since that relatively halcyon time when identity politics, the subject of FastHorse’s farce, could be debated, mocked, ranted over and defended without fear of governmental reprisal. An emboldened Donald Trump has returned to the White House on a vendetta against diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives, setting in motion a new version of the Red Scare, except the target color scheme now is anything nonwhite.

As nonprofit agencies across the land are scrambling to figure out how to respond to anti-DEI policies and threats from the new administration, the delayed premiere of “Fake It Until You Make It” presents a satirical war between two rival nonprofit groups working on behalf of Native American causes.

Good intentions are no guarantee of good behavior. In “The Thanksgiving Play,” FastHorse skewered with merciless hilarity white woke hypocrisy. Here, she examines the way virtue signaling and moral one-upmanship have warped the nonprofit field, turning public service into a competitive sport and corrupting even those who have dedicated themselves to lifting up their own communities.

“Fake It Until You Make It” doesn’t anticipate the dire situation unfolding in 2025. But it does, helpfully, move beyond the rigid partisan categories that have clouded our thinking and made shared enlightenment seem completely out of reach.

The cleverly constructed play, a co-production with Washington, D.C.’s Arena Stage, is freighted with historical significance of its own. It’s the first time a Native American playwright has been featured on the Mark Taper Forum’s marquee stage — and it almost didn’t happen. (In a candid interview with Times reporter Ashley Lee, FastHorse revealed that had Arena Stage not stepped in after CTG faltered, there “would have been a lot of hurt and unhealed pain, which would have made this process difficult.”)

When the play begins, River (Julie Bowen of “Modern Family” fame), a white woman who runs Indigenous Nations Soaring, has taken out a restraining order to prevent anyone from messing with her cat. Wynona (Tonantzin Carmelo), a proudly identified Native woman who leads N.O.B.U.S.H., an organization seeking the removal of invasive plants, is the main target of River’s ire.

The two women work in the same office complex and are bitter enemies. Wynona has designs on River’s cat, and River keeps planting a botanical species on workplace grounds that Wynona is on a fanatical mission to wipe out.

Battle lines are drawn and immediately transgressed in a play that takes farce out of the bedroom and into administrative corridors and cubicles. The doors that slam, as farcical doors are built to do, open to work spaces, where a good deal of time is spent scheming and counter-scheming.

Mistaken identity is a central conceit of the genre, and FastHorse takes this charade to another intellectual level. While reveling in the silly masquerade, “Fake It Until You Make It” interrogates the meaning of racial identity and authenticity, leaving no dogmatic position unscathed by irony.

FastHorse’s nonprofit universe includes a range of characters of varied ideological commitments and tactical approaches. Theo (Noah Bean), Wynona’s partner, is an eco-activist who returns from clearing thousands of acres of English ivy from California wilderness to find himself conscripted into Wynona’s war against River. Theo, who’s white, wants to marry Wynona, but her conscience won’t let her start a family with a non-Native.

She dangles, however, the reward of being his common-law wife if he pretends to be a Native applicant for a job at River’s organization. She wants him to tank a big grant application to better her chances of being selected. Theo has misgivings, but his passion for Wynona overrides his scruples.

Two other nonprofit leaders have their headquarters in this suite of offices. Grace (Dakota Ray Hebert), an advocate for race-shifting, has launched an organization to help people transition their identities “ethically and safely.” A Native woman eager to try on other selves, she provides costume designer E.B. Brooks the opportunity to create a pageant of flamboyant international garb, designed to lay unmistakable claim to new cultural identities.

Eric Stanton Betts, left, and Brandon Delsid in “Fake It Until You Make It” at the Mark Taper Forum.

(Makela Yepez)

Krys (Brandon Delsid), who identifies as gender-fluid, heads an organization that advocates for the Two Spirit community. When Mark (Eric Stanton Betts), the native applicant Theo impersonates, shows up at the office to apologize for missing the interview with River, Krys runs interference for Wynona. But Mark, a fellow Two Spirit soul with a lot of sex appeal, erotically complicates Krys’ loyalties.

The farcical math is elegantly worked out by FastHorse, who maps out the ensuing chaos with elan. The production, directed by Michael John Garcés, quickly reaches cruising speed on a vivid set by Sara Ryung Clement that is full of Native color and craft.

But much as I admired the playwright’s ingenious examination of identity politics through the looking glass of farce, I never quite succumbed to the comedy’s demented logic. My resistance wasn’t just a function of the radically changed political landscape that has made DEI concerns no laughing matter.

There’s a cynicism at the heart of “Fake It Until You Make It” that distances us from the characters. FastHorse, to her credit, doesn’t write schematic plays. She refuses to treat her Native protagonist as a hero. But in making Wynona so belligerently flawed and River so narcissistically self-serving, FastHorse diminishes our concern for the outcome of their battle. A pox on both their houses, I found myself indifferently concluding.

Dakota Ray Hebert, left, and Brandon Delsid in “Fake It Until You Make It” at the Mark Taper Forum.

(Makela Yepez)

Grace, who refuses to be confined by demographic category, is in many ways the most outrageously polemical of the characters. Yet she gains the upper hand in the debate over identity politics with a perspective that is as compassionate and cogent as it is controversial. Unfortunately, the way she’s deployed as a sight gag makes it hard to take her seriously when it counts.

Perhaps the real hero of the play is the playwright, who panders to no quarter. But a touch more emotional reasonableness in Wynona might have paid theatrical dividends. In farce, we expect to see characters, overwhelmed by situations of their own making, behaving at their clumsy worst. But we need to care about them sufficiently to stay attentive, and for that to happen we must believe that they are capable of self-awareness, if not growth.

Farce is a notoriously cruel genre, as critic Eric Bentley has noted. It allows us, as he writes in “The Life of the Drama,” to work out our “psychic violence” through laughter. We know the brutality isn’t really happening, so we go along with the vicious high jinks. But a corner must be preserved for affection, and FastHorse spares not even River’s cat from unnatural abuse.

Krys and Mark arrive at a moment of tender connection. The panting lust that allows them to override the lies that brought them together isn’t enough farcical compensation, but Delsid and Betts have a sweet, daffy chemistry.

Bowen’s River and Carmelo’s Wynona play their characters’ shortcomings to the hilt. There’s no danger of a saccharine ending. Amy Brenneman takes over the role from a fearlessly funny Bowen when “Fake It” moves to Arena Stage in April. Carmelo, who could incorporate a moment or two of introspective reflection in her uncompromisingly ferocious portrayal, will travel with the rest of the cast to Washington, D.C.

Bean’s Tom bristles at the way Wynona plays the race card. (“You can’t just say ‘blood money’ to win every argument,” he tells her.) But he’s carnal putty in her hands, leaving the impression of a good guy with a big id and no spine.

The play ends with a joke that made me wonder if Center Theatre Group has it in for cats. (I had hoped to expunge the memory of the dramatized feline murder that took place in “Our Dear Dead Drug Lord” at the Kirk Douglas Theatre.) We could all use a good laugh right now in these disturbing political times, but I left the Taper with a wince.