Month: May 2021

Set in the Arizona Territory, in the late 1800’s, Drac in the Saddle Again begins on a train. Momma Farmer and her brother, Norman, are headed back to the ranch, when a strange fog rolls in. An antagonistic bat comes from nowhere. Then a mysterious stranger turns up, and joins them. After some congenial conversation, he strikes without mercy. Loud, prolonged booing ensues. (As it should.) Snatching a locket from Mama Farmer’s throat, Dracula (yes, it’s him!) concocts a scheme to pose as Fannie Farmer’s Uncle Norman and wreak havoc on their erstwhile, reasonably contented lives. After successfully convincing his naive “niece”, he conspires with the housekeeper, Consuela del Frankenstein (??!!) to enact an onslaught of mayhem and treachery on Fannie and her boyfriend: The Guy with No Name. Little does Dracula suspect he must match wits with Sheriff Arnold Schnetvinger and his wife, Dr. Hilde Schnetvinger.

I am (as they say in the UK) chuffed to bits that Pocket Sandwich Theatre has reopened its doors, ever mindful (naturally) of the responsible steps required for a safe and glorious evening of comedy. There may be others who try to emulate their technique, but to quote the philosopher Carly Simon, “Nobody does it better.” PST’s tongue-in cheek, fabulously ridiculous, over-the-top, goofy brand of hilarity, is a balm to the soul. Drac in the Saddle Again rarely misses an opportunity for a blue pun, wisecrack, silly reference, scene-gobbling outburst or meticulously placed non sequitur. “Nobody talks that way about my Fannie.” …. “Did you order a Bloody Mary? No, but I will.”…etc…There’s nothing better than a show that elicits helpless laughter: the result of excellent timing, masterful mugging, scimitar sharp banter and disingenuousness (or is it?) that would make Gracie Allen proud.

It isn’t just Pandemic Deprivation speaking when I say that Pocket Sandwich makes the extraordinary effort to be welcoming and hospitable. It was a joy to be in the midst of such a merry throng of performers and of course, audience members. If you can’t boo you-know-who or cheer our real-life-heroes in person, for Christ’s sake do it at PST!

Pocket Sandwich Theatre presents: Drac in the Saddle Again playing April 30^th through June 19^th, 2021. 5400 E. Mockingbird Lane, Suite 119, Dallas, Texas 75206. 214-821-1860.

Drac in the Saddle Again was written by Steve Lovett and directed by Michael Speck. Starring: Kayla Anderson (Fannie Farmer) Bryan Brooks (The Guy With No Name) Kelly Moore Clarkson (Momma Farmer) Matt Doden (Dracula) April 30th-May 30^th.   Sherry Etzel (Consuela de Frankenstein) May 13th-June 19^th.   Kenneth Fulenwider (Uncle Norman) Jake Shanahan (Dracula) June 10-19th.   Alex Wade (Black Bart) Aidan Wright (Chap-Chap) Trista Wyly (Consuela de Frankenstein) April 30th-May 9^th.

P.S. Michael, I apologize. I know you’re not Richard. I’m a fool.

 

 

Scam Likely lives in a well-kept, upbeat apartment. He’s dapper, with a jaunty sense of fashion. He’s fastidiously groomed, certainly gregarious. The only thing that seems peculiar is all the phones he’s got. They’re landlines. There’s quite a collection (all over the place) and they’re all connected. Each time a different one rings, he answers. He hears the voice, he replies, but they can’t hear him. Some of the callers are friends. Such is the premise in our hero’s ordeal in Idle Spirit. Written and performed by Justin Locklear, part four of Ochre House’s Ghosts in the Kitchen series, this piece is a cunning depiction of a man in existential crisis. He has an urgent need for connection, any connection to another human being. Nothing else seems extraordinary in his life, that is to say, nothing to explain why his need to simply talk with another person on the phone is repeatedly thwarted.

Idle Spirit is comical, absurd and often sad. We couldn’t really say that Scam is desperate. His behavior doesn’t seem irrational considering the strange situation he’s subjected to. From time to time we get hints of the concealed engine that propels the story. The cigarette that unrolls to reveal a token or metaphor. A phone conversation from the past, when his callers had his number by mistake. Mr. Locklear would seem to be reflecting on the nature of authentic connection. The attempt to genuinely communicate and intersect with another human being. Another soul. Scam reminisces: When I was a kid, I could make friends with anyone. No doubt this is a useful and appropriate gift in social gatherings, but how many of these exchanges (by the nature of humanity) are cursory? Not to say simpatico is only a theory, but strong relationships usually take time.

The play seems to take a turn, when Scam places a call and winds up calling himself. (I apologize for the spoiler.) This (what might be called) enacted koan, a revelation wrapped in a quandary, points to what Scam may be missing in his interior life. He is so overcome, so confounded, he can think of nothing to say after: Who is this? And hangs up. In Dream Song # 14, John Berryman says: I conclude now I have no / inner resources…. Scam definitely has inner resources, that he’s yet to tap. Why else would he want to fly? It’s hard not to wonder if all the shows in Ochre House’s Ghosts in the Kitchen Series are not inspired by the pandemic and subsequent, prolonged, isolation. Scam’s predicament is easy to understand. We learn to manage the quarantine, because we have no choice. But it’s a skill. Sometimes insipid catchphrases like: “Let’s pull together, apart!”and fist bumps don’t help.

Ochre House presents: Ghosts In The Kitchen Virtual Theatre Series: Idle Spirit, written and performed by Justin Locklear. Location: online at: www.ochrehousetheater.org. Dates: Streaming: May 6-16th, 2021. Time: Thursday – Sunday / 12pm-12pm each day. Admission: Pay Online: www.ochrehousetheater.org /$10 Reservations: Online: www.ochrehousetheater.org or for assistance: (214) 826-6273

As the lights come up on Key to a Dark and Lonely Night we see a haggard fellow taking a slug from a bottle of Jack Daniels. He has a bristly beard, rumpled clothes. He seems highly agitated. He keeps looking out the kitchen window, which is boarded up. The refrigerator is pushed up against the door. Someone bangs on it from time to time. Our hero talks about the past, addressing perhaps a guy named Dave, or himself, or the audience. Perhaps all three. He has fond memories of their halcyon days, going camping at Roaring Springs. Like countless teenage boys, they brought numerous controlled substances so they could kick back and get messed up. He chuckles when he remembers driving off all the campers, when their rowdy celebration got too loud.

There are several black flags to signal us that something’s off. He keeps boxing his head as if his memory (or brain) is malfunctioning. Sometimes he stands in the corner, facing away. He keeps coming back to the same last pill, the same drink, the same empty cigarette pack, over and again. He seems to return repeatedly to one particular night when a third guy, Eric, gets so drunk, he must grab the axe away before Eric mutilates himself. Our narrator seems to be defending himself to someone we can’t see, or perhaps reach a point of clarity.

Kenneth Grammer’s piece is at once deeply troubling, confounding, mysterious and sad. There is something frantic about the narrator. Something that suggests he’s actually trapped by circumstances, not a catastrophe of his own making. Pretty early we realize something terrible’s happened, though his explanation circles back and forth, without naming it. When he repeats the crazy behavior of he and Dave (and sometimes Eric) indeed it seems no different than the kind if mischief teenage boys have gotten into for centuries. Our heart breaks for him. There’s little (if anything) to suggest sociopathy or rage or intense alienation. There’s something almost childlike about his behavior. Scared, ashamed,

lost. When Dark and Lonely Night reaches its shocking conclusion, we are not sure it happened before or after the scene we’ve just witnessed. Suddenly we must rethink the story we’ve just seen. This is cunning drama of the first order.

Ochre House presents: Ghosts In The Kitchen Virtual Theatre Series: Key to a Dark and Lonely Night: written and performed by Kevin Grammer. Online at: www.ochrehousetheater.org. Admission: Pay Online: $10. For assistance: (214) 826-6273.