Dry Powder opens enigmatically. Jenny stands on the threshold of Rick’s office. As if she’s waiting for permission to cross. She informs Rick that she’s going to give a brief talk at a tony, Ivy League Law School. He interrogates her, demanding the details. No, don’t talk about that. No don’t discuss that. What are you thinking, of course not. Rick is like a bad father, diminishing her, gratuitously. We don’t get the relationship, other than Jenny is in some kind of fealty. Jenny broaches the subject of a recent, opulent wedding Rick threw, and the disastrous optics of such extravagance. Rick bemoans the fact that everyone says there were two elephants, when actually there was only one.
Such is the tongue-in-cheek, cutting humor that informs Dry Powder. It begins with the kind of levity you could only find in a hermetic, restricted context. It gradually sinks to the depths of despondency. Rick is a billionaire tycoon, CEO of a chain of grocery stores, that are in danger of foundering. Jenny and Seth are his top tier assistants. When a predicament arises (or any crucial decision must be made) they must each argue one side of the possible solution. Like a courtroom, it’s an adversarial strategy. The truth of the matter reached by dialectic. Sometimes it feels rational, other times like Jenny is the demon, and Seth the angel, perched on Rick’s shoulders. Seth is the altruist, and Jenny the cold, pragmatic shark. Rick gives them both the opportunity to pitch their reasoning, but he makes no meaningful effort to intervene when their interpersonal sniping gets vindictive and destructive.
Dry Powder evinces two viewpoints when it comes to ridiculously wealthy men like Rick. When desperation enters the equation, all semblance of honor is jettisoned. You could the hear the shouting all the way to Jersey. Seth believes you ignore the misery you inflict jeopardizes your soul, and Jenny believes charity has no place in the world victory by conquest. But the more closely we look, the more clearly we see the cruelty and despair gnawing at Rick, Jenny and Seth.
At the outset, Seth feels like our moral compass, but then we learn he’s not above deception. Even with friends. Jenny is despicable, yet she lacks even the basic skills to form relationships. Whatever her triumphs, her life is joyless. Rick is a bit tougher to gauge. We get he’s the captain of a sinking ship, but is Jenny there to propose options or give him permission to be a prick? Playwright Sarah Burgess inserts an elemental and imperative quandary. Mankind has a special gift for excusing every bad act. What’s the use of success if it turns you into a monster? When you deliberately make a decision that abuses your employees?
Dry Powder is sleek and snappy and scintillating. And yes, funny. It’s entertaining and intelligent. Second Thought Theatre has assembled a powerful, elegant, disturbing production, here. Theatre of the most provocative, imperative kind. Kudos to the impeccable, meticulous cast: Marcus Pinon (Seth) Samantha Potrykus (Jenny) Jackie Cabe (Rick) and Omar Padilla (Jeff).
Second Thought Theatre presents Dry Powder: playing April 13th-30th, 2022. Bryant Hall, next door to Frank Lloyd Wright’s Kalita Humphreys Theater, located at: 3400 Blackburn Street, Dallas, TX 75219. 214-897-3031. secondthoughttheatre.com