THEATRE REVIEW
Julia Masli at the Pasadena Playhouse (Photo – Jeff-Lorch)
You’ll find them in dreams and political rallies, under circus tents, and celebrated in cultures around the world. Whether they embody our greatest foolishness or our deepest brilliance, clowns are living cartoons, mirrors that help society accept itself completely, flaws and all. One such clown has taken up residence at the Pasadena Playhouse. But she isn’t just after our laughter—she is Julia Masli, and she’s got her eyes, and legs, on a Nobel Prize.
By Natalia Rose
After seventy minutes of laughter-made medicine and peaceful absurdity, I’d nominate Julia for the prize myself. Even the title of her play, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha, elicits a cheeky grin, sparking instant curiosity. At first glance, I’ll admit, I braced myself for another self-absorbed one-person show or some vague experimental theatre, but it took only ten minutes for Julia to restore my faith in the avant-garde.
Each performance is improvised anew, a feat that alone proves Julia’s remarkable comedic agility. Yet the show’s true magic lies in its invisible structure. I won’t reveal a magician’s tricks, but I urge you to notice the checkpoints that guide this playful journey, all connected by one simple, recurring question: “Problem?”
Julia’s nameless clown persona is magnetic and endlessly kind. She never relinquishes ownership of the joke, yet somehow makes us all co-conspirators in crafting the punchlines. Roaming the orchestra floor with a golden mannequin leg for a left arm and a blue gown stitched from patchwork curtains and spare ethernet wires, she becomes an ethereal entity, weightless, tender, and intoxicatingly strange. Her third leg serves as a gateway into the clown’s world, where her greatest trick, problem-solving, turns whimsy into healing: helping unsuspecting audience members raise money for dental surgery, teaching a hobby-less man to woodwork, finding a bed for a sleeping child, and offering a homesick woman a small touchstone of home.
“ha ha ha ha ha ha ha” at the Pasadena Playhouse (Photo – Jeff-Lorch)
From the moment I entered the auditorium, it was clear the main character wasn’t Julia—it was us. Pink and blue lights, designed by Lily Woodford, washed over the seats before the show began, quietly preparing the audience for the limelight. Brad Enlow’s interactive set—a magician’s chest of hidden compartments—teased the crowd with floating oddities: a broken chair, a bag of old socks, and black curtains concealing the elaborate world to come. Every visual surprise was heightened by a delightfully unhinged, caffeinated score composed by Sebástián Hernández and brought to life through Alessio Festuccia’s vibrant sound design.
Clowns are far more varied than the silent, emotive faces of France or the lovesick Pierrot of commedia dell’arte. The healing power of clowns is not rooted in absurdity but in humility. Julia’s humility radiates through a one-woman show that, somehow, is about everyone but herself.
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Thru Nov. 9 Created and performed by Julia Masli Directed by Kim Noble Pasadena Playhouse 39 S. El Molino Avenue Pasadena, CA 91101 Tickets: pasadenaplayhouse.org
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