By John Quinn
Review: '3 Twenty Minute Plays With Drinking In Between – 2'
Classically absurd: ZeitGeist excels with cutting edge one-acts
Three cheers for the one-act playwright. While some artists will take a perfectly good idea and wear out its welcome faster than a second season of "Two and a Half Men," the one-act crafter has focus. He can seize an image, cut through the fat, thrust it on your plate and be gone before you can ask for another breadbasket. It's Atkins for the intellect.
ZeitGeist Theater is host to writer and director Troy Richard's world premiere, "3
Twenty Minute Plays With Drinking In Between – 2: Another Experiment In Drama." It's an experiment in socialization as much as drama, and the aware patron might learn something extra by reading between the lines (my spell check keeps trying to capitalize that phrase – wonder why?).
First of all, as noted in the program, these plays don't even last twenty minutes apiece. This is lean, mean theater. The experiment makes its points without belaboring them. And the production is serious about the "drinking in between" – although some audience members are more serious than others, perhaps. More of that later.
Mr. Richard's pen is planted firmly in Absurdist tradition and his tongue firmly in cheek as he draws us into "The Girl with the Cut Off Foot," a sharp dismissal of crackpot fundamentalism and the homophobia that accompanies it. The closing piece, "Bone-draggin' Grizzly Bear," is a stream-of-unconsciousness reflection by the Bear, who is caught in the mindless prattle of bar patrons talking through, rather than to, each other. Don't expect it to go anywhere; as a segment of time, the message is in the moment, and gone the next. We wait with the Bear until the muse comes 'round again.
"The Dictator Makes A Move" is the second play of three and the "centerpiece" in more ways than one. Alan Madlane turns in a sleek performance as a genocidal dictator playing mind games with the last survivor of a conquered race. Why? Because he can! Walled off from the audience by the bars of a prison cell, he alternately raises and dashes the hopes of the helpless, hopeless Amiel (Charles Reynolds).
But as competition to the serious material, Richard has placed a television to the right of the stage. Snippets of "funniest videos" shows and other stupid people tricks are playing without sound. Okay, contestants, which medium will hold your attention? To judge from the giggles in the audience during some of the most serious parts of the play, that "drinking in between" had contributed to wandering eyes. "Socialization," forsooth!
Absurdism is a dish for discriminating tastes. For the patron who can appreciate that a subtle flavor can actually be enhanced by intervals of over-the-top spice, an evening of complex theater can be very satisfying. For dessert, be sure to take in the Gallery's exhibit of works by Gerard Sendrey, master of line in the "art brut" style.
"3 Twenty Minute Plays With Drinking In Between – 2: Another Experiment in Drama" Presented Friday and Saturday at ZeitGeist Gallery and Performance Venue, 2661 Michigan Ave., Detroit, through March 14. Tickets: $15. 313-965-9192. http://www.zeitgeistdetroit.org.
The Bottom Line: Get your "art-on-the-cutting edge" now: ZeitGeist Theater has announced its closing; it's a sad loss.
Review: 'The Soapranos'
Having dinner with 'La Famiglia'
By John Quinn
I approached reviewing this interactive comedy with some trepidation, since I'm not familiar with the HBO series, "The Sopranos." For the pittance I'm paid for pushing my poor prose, how can I afford premium cable?
But with visions of prime rib dancing in my head, I tracked down "The Soapranos" at Castello di Bologna in Lake Orion, one of four venues hosting the New York Dinner Theater production. Not to worry if you're as pop culturally clueless as I: There are stereotypes here that predate television; only the names have been changed to protect the guilty – and avoid copyright infringement.
The setting is crime boss Tony Soaprano's surprise retirement party, highlighted by the naming of his successor has head of the "family." There's a dispute over his choice, and faster than you can say "La Cosa Nostra," the audience becomes part of the show. Audience members get inducted into the Mob, go to Hit-Man Training School and vote on who will be the next "capo" of the crime family.
There's always a hit or miss quality to interactive theater, and some of the misses are notable in this one. While the 13-member cast aces the trick of remaining in character at all times in the dining room, most of their more subtle interplay gets lost in the blare from the DJ's sound system. Why, Tony and his wife, "Carnella," held a heated conversation at my right elbow and I heard not a word. And my right ear is my GOOD ear, folks!
Some of the attempts to involve patrons in the hilarity are as lukewarm as the prime rib. These performers are good at the gags, but seem uncomfortable with improvisation, and are sometimes at the mercy of their patrons. At best, the show is fresh and natural; when it's off, it's rather uncomfortable.
But much more important to you, dear readers, is the undeniable fact that this show is skewed distinctly hetero. Not that there's anything WRONG with that!
The target audience of dinner theater is going to be boomer couples and their good friends. But a table filled with my friends (or your friends) would stand out.
For instance, like a real retirement party, there were a lot of opportunities to "cut the rug." I really didn't mind when "Mama Soaprano" set me up for a dance with "Donna Butana" (but imagine three gay guys sitting there and whispering, "No, YOU dance with her!"), but would the cast and diners be gracious if the floor had been peppered with same-sex couples? While the applause was sincere for what appeared to be a mixed race couple celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary, would it have been as warm for a homosexual couple?
We've come a long way, baby, but not nearly far enough.
The Soapranos Presented by the New York Dinner Theater at various locations throughout March and April. Tickets: $49.95 includes dinner, show and dancing. 800-383-6080.
The Bottom Line: "The Soapranos" is loud, crude and silly – kind of fun for the unwary extrovert.
