Rhonda and Don are next door neighbors to Marcus and Clark. They have sold their property in rural Texas and bought a condo in Cedar Springs, not realizing it’s predominantly gay. Clark and Marcus have invited them to dinner, and when we join them they are enjoying chocolate mousse and wine. Conversation isn’t exactly awkward, though you can tell Don and Rhonda are careful to not make any offensive remarks. Don isn’t disparaging when he asks which one is the wife. Clark and Marcus are very gracious, welcoming hosts. They mostly ignore the missteps of their guests, with the occasional, obtuse jibe by Clark. Their daughter, Sophia, is a casual provocateur. She enjoys pushing people’s buttons.
The set for Big Scary Animals provides clues. There’s a line dividing the homes, bringing the living room and kitchen of both the households smack dab against each other. It divides the coffee table. Rug. The sofa. It’s high relief battling with harmony. Clark and Marcus have tastefully decorated with upscale, somewhat nuanced, accouterments. Rhonda and Mark’s home is more cozy, inviting, button down. Ronnie their teenage son, has low self esteem, while Sophia’s a cyclone. The male couple is worldly, more poised. But the straight couple seems more frank, more genuine. They know they’re the “interlopers”, and tread carefully.
Playwright Matt Lyle has crafted a pitch black comedy. Darker by the moment. The humor is rapid, unexpected and cutting. But it’s not impressed with its own cleverness. It winds itself up, then spins out of control. But it’s also precise. There are moments of genuine, deeply affecting pathos, followed by a knock-out joke, followed by more anecdotal pain. It’s like Ingmar Bergman and Mel Brooks had a kid together. It’s breathtaking, overwhelming and glorious.
Big Scary Animals swings between who we think we are, and who we are, actually. It doesn’t seem that way at the outset, but what separates these couples is a chasm. True to the best satire, none of them escape with their best foot forward. Our laughter is helpless, our sobs unavoidable. The scaffolding is cerebral, but the chemistry on the stage is something else altogether. It’s like Ingmar Bergman and Mel Brooks had a kid. In Big Scary Animals, Matt Lyle has achieved something ferociously, tenderly human, and funny. Volatile and meticulous. This is what comes from brilliant, uncompromising vision.
Under the scrupulous eye of Rebecca McDonald, the cast [Bob Reed (Donald) Charlotte Akin (Rhonda) Bradley Atuba (Marcus) Monica Jones (Sophia) Chad Cline (Clark) Brady White (Ronnie)] is seamlessly authentic. It’s a demanding script. Emotions pivot swiftly, audacity goes hand in hand with propriety, the expected at odds with spontaneity. These are complicated, detailed, extraordinary characters that evolve and surprise. They dismiss each other, but then the shiny penny drops.
Theatre 3 presents: Big Scary Animals, playing September 1st-25th, 2022. 2688 Laclede Street, Suite 120, Dallas, Texas. boxoffice@theatre3dallas.com. 214-871-3300.