How then, must we live? Allen Contemporary’s Curious Incident of the Dog…

 

 

Christopher Boone is 15 and lives in Swindon, England, with his dad. His mother died of a heart attack while in hospital. Christopher is on the autism spectrum. If someone touches him, he goes to pieces. For him, the sentient world is overwhelming. It comes amplified and faster than he can process. He has coping mechanisms, but they only take him so far. Needless to say, the world doesn’t always choose to deal positively with Christopher, or even adequately. He’s intelligent and sharp. He’s especially keen at maths. He goes to school, sharing his notebook with Siobhan, his school teacher. It’s she that narrates our play.

One morning Christopher finds the neighbor’s dog has been killed. By someone with a gardening fork. Christopher is quite fond of his now deceased friend, and resolves to find the culprit, ignoring the orders of his dad. In this way, he’s no different than any other teenager. He visits the neighbors, meeting with various degrees of warmth, cynicism and hostility. When he lets slip that he’s been doing detective work, his dad (not necessarily a bad chap) becomes increasingly irate. Gradually his dad, in a fit of anger, confiscates Christopher’s notebook and hides it. In the process of getting it back, Christopher finds dozens of letters, addressed to him. He opens one and another. The penny drops, and he discovers his mother is still alive. Badly wounded by his father’s dishonesty, Christopher sets out to find his mother in London, counting on his reasoning skills, and the cooperation of others. If he’s thought that far.

Adapted by Simon Stephens from Mark Haddon’s novel of the same name, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time invites us into Christopher’s grasp of a life and world that (I think we can all agree) isn’t always welcoming or humane. But more than that. We see that strangers aren’t always untrustworthy. We see he can’t always rely on those that any of us might. We see the exquisite, phenomenal perception that thrives in the gentlest part of his brain. The access we seek within ourselves, when we’re in need of bandage. Haddon and Stephens achieve empathy for Christopher, without condescension or playing the audience. They want respect for their hero, who is neither cuddly nor helpless. And yet how deeply we care for him.

In a post-performance conversation with one of the actors, he mentioned how utterly production particulars of Curious are wed to content. Truer words. It’s some kind of dazzling to witness how the blocking and set pieces, and projections, and sound, and sympathetic response from the players all converge to reflect the interface between Christopher and what happens outside of him. When he must navigate a train station, or subway, or stairway. When he’s taking in the landscape from a train, rocket ship, or his bedroom window. We’re right there with him.

How does director Chris Berthelot bring his keen eye and sense of harmony to a drama with so many moving parts? Part painter, part conductor, part composer. Performance, music, movement, images, noise. They must all line up. I don’t want to go into too much detail here, but the way this story is conceived requires the participants to rethink theatrical tropes. Another realm is summoned. A different compass is needed. Berthelot has assembled a determined, confident, dedicated cast of focused and completely involved players, to change the way we see. If you love vibrant, kinetic, surprising theatre, don’t miss ACT’S The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.

Allen Contemporary Theare presents: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, playing March 17th-April 2nd, 2023. 1210 E Main Street, #300, Allen, TX, United States, Texas. (844) 822-8849. allencontemporarytheatre.net

Last chance to catch Pocket’s Murder at the Howard Johnson’s

 

Arlene and Mitchell plan to kill Arlene’s husband. The two have found their soulmate, and Paul has become a burden. Mitchell has arranged for Paul to meet him in a room at Howard Johnson’s, where the two will ambush, and drown him in the tub. When Paul arrives, he’s not the insensitive schmuck that we’ve been lead to believe. Even though the murder’s carefully planned, there’s some discrepancy between concept and execution. Mitchell and Arlene bungle it. The next time we visit HoJo’s, Paul and Arlene are scheming to kill Mitchell. Once again, there are miscalculations and unforeseen problems. You would think two people who sleep together would make at better team. Next act, Paul and Mitchell are ready to kill Arlene.

Written by Ron Clark and Sam Brobrick, Murder at the Howard Johnson’s is set in the 1970’s with its flashy, tastelessly loud colors and plaids, and it’s clarion call to women to declare their freedom. The fact that Mitchell, a dentist, is only slightly higher up the food chain than used car salesman Paul, speaks volumes. There’s some glamour and romance in the idea of murdering for the sake of passion (I suppose) but these three can’t commit. As Paul (clearly the wisest of the three) points out, they’re too middle class to make the deed happen. They’re not poor enough to feel trapped, or wealthy enough to ignore the law. Their ideas of gifts, the debonair, the intrepid may be practical, but also, lame. Murder at the Howard Johnson’s stands firmly in the tradition of banter, quips and shtick. Paul: That bridge you put in still hurts. Mitchell: So don’t pay me. Paul: I didn’t. There’s also an element of the absurd to these shenanigans. Mitchell checks with Paul to make sure his binding’s not too tight. Paul let’s him use his necktie.

Pocket Sandwich Theatre (now in Carrollton) back and better than ever, is in fine form with Murder at the Howard Johnson’s. Not their customary popcorn tosser this time around, but a most enjoyable evening of comedy, nonetheless. Manuel C. Cruz (Paul) Mozhgan Haghi (Arlene) and Jake Shanahan (Mitchell) bring their A-Game to this amusing farce, optimizing tone to content, timing to text. Cruz is the cranky voice of pragmatism, Haghi the ditzy voice of emancipation, Shanahan the dentist dandy. Under the keen, experienced direction of Becki McDonald, the marvelously preposterous (or is it the preposterously marvelous?) comes gleaming through.

Pocket Sandwich Theatre presents: Murder at the Howard Johnson’s, playing February 24th- March 24th, 2023. 1104 Elm Street, Carrollton, TX, United States, Texas. (214) 821-1860. pst@dallas.net

Frankie and Joanie: RTC’S The Odd Couple (Female version)

Florence Unger has been wandering the streets of New York, after finding out her husband wants a divorce. She shows up at Olive Madison’s apartment, where she, Sylvie, Mickey, Renee and Vera are playing Trivial Pursuit. Olive has a comprehensive knowledge of sports, though she’s not great at providing a decent nosh. Florence is beside herself, after so many years of marriage she feels abandoned. They try to help her as best they can, and insist she spend the night at Olive’s. When they’re alone, in a moment of revelation, Olive realizes she wants a roommate and invites Florence to move in.

Not long after, Florence and Olive are getting on each other’s nerves. Florence isn’t just fastidious, she’s compulsive. Though living with someone who keeps things clean, and prepares delicious food, doesn’t exactly sound like torment. Both Olive and Florence seem incapable of tolerating the others shortcomings or finding common ground. Olive arranges a double date with brothers who are neighbors. Despite some hurdles, things seem to be going fine. The guys suggest the four go up to their place where they will cook for the ladies. Florence, intentionally or not, sabotages what might have been a sublime evening. Though it was Olive who invited her, she also throws Florence out.

I was surprised to find that Neil Simon adapted his original version of The Odd Couple to focus the premise on two women friends. If memory serves, the dynamic between Oscar and Felix was a comedy of chemistry. Two buddies, one a slob and the other a neat- freak, living under the same roof. It’s a quirk of humanity that any two adults, sharing a home (regardless of the nature of their connection) will assume the roles of “husband” and “wife”, if you will. Or nest builder and alpha. Relatively speaking. This makes for considerable friction between the two. Perhaps no one ever told Felix and Oscar that the key to a successful relationship is compromise.

There’s a strange moment that closes the first act, when Olive and Florence are alone. Olive confesses her loneliness and drops to one knee, proposing marriage to Florence. Now certainly, we don’t take this literally, and we’re not meant to. Perhaps this is Simon’s way of silencing the proverbial elephant in the room. By addressing it head on? I suppose my hesitation with the logic of The Odd Couple (Female Version) emerges when Florence proclaims her gratitude for Olive evicting her. After inviting her to move in, in the first place. Presumably this motivated her to seek male companionship. This may have passed in the 1980’s, but in 2023, it doesn’t add up. Platonic may be no substitute for Romance, but sexual is no substitute for sisterhood. Of course, Mr. Simon is entitled to his own worldview. But you’ve got to be a little skeptical, when the “answer” to Florence’s unhappiness could only be a male. When she discovers the right kind of males, her need to live with a woman is solved.

Under the direction of Rachael Lindley, this convivial and versatile cast works Neil Simon’s legendary gift for banter and shtick, with confidence and purpose. Their timing is impeccable, their punchlines, sublime. There’s lots of hi-jinks and physical humor, and the first date with the Constanzuela Brothers is definitely a high point. It’s always grand to catch a show at Richardson Theatre Centre, where everyone cares so devotedly about the success of the show, they all give 200 %, they all make you feel welcome.

My sincere thanks to RTC for their invitation on closing weekend.

Richardson Theatre Centre presented The Odd Couple (Female Version) February 10-26th, 2023. 518 West Arapaho Road, Suite 113, Richardson, Texas 75080. 972-699-1130. richardsontheatrecentre.net