THE BEAST THAT SHOUTED LOVE AT THE HEART OF THE WORLD
But the Ellison that Coash is interested in is not the enfant terrible who once dared, while still in his early 20s, to tell Isaac Asimov he was “a nothing.” It’s the older, sadder, somewhat humbler and more reflective man who emerges in the autobiographical prose published in papers such as the LA Weekly and the now-defunct LA Free Press. And that choice is what makes The Beast (Shoestring Productions) such a fine one-person show.
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Tall, blond, gangly Carl Coash could never be confused with the gray-haired, five foot five Ellison, yet he speaks Ellison’s words with such authority and relish that he’s utterly convincing, even when tossing off the Yiddish Ellison peppers his prose with to prove his pedigree. Coash’s accomplishment was all the more impressive the night I caught his show, when there were at most six people in the hot, muggy theater.
