Playwrights' minds are a little off center. Christopher Durang's is closer to the outside edge, and he happily takes large-caliber ammunition to arguments and diatribes about patriotism, terrorism, butterflies, marriage, motherhood and a host of other topics. Dysfunctional people are his favorite kind, and he lines up a goodly number for "Why Torture Is Wrong and and the People Who Love Them."
It opened last night as an over-the-top, largely hilarious HotCity Theatre production at the Kranzberg Arts Center, to run through Feb. 27.
As in almost all of Durang's plays, he uses an axe when a pocket knife will do, and he has difficulty with the second act, but when he finds something to attack, well, going hammer-and-tongs is just a modest beginning, maybe only slightly less modest than "Torture." It opens as Brooke Edwards and Adam Flores awaken with major hangovers and the realization that they are married, an action that began at a Hooters the previous night when Felicity (Edwards) told Zamir (Flores) that she did not believe in sex before marriage.
Zamir called her bluff, and a minister named Reverend Mike (a first-rate G. P. Hunsaker), whose day job is as an director of porno films, married them.
Zamir, who insists that he is Irish, will not tell his new bride how he earns a living, but does mention driving getaway cars, finding money under rocks in Central Park and having a fierce temper.
Things only get worse when they visit her parents. Luella, or Mom (a glorious performance by Kari Ely), lives in a dream world of Broadway musicals and often sounds like a Muny press release. Leonard, or Pop (Whit Reichert at his foolish, comedic best), talks about his butterfly collection but has never shown it, and rants about Jane Fonda, homosexuals, free spirits and others with liberal tendencies. He also considers himself part of a shadow government and talks in a chain of conversations with similar people, all with code-names taken from Looney Tunes characters, like the Road Runner, one of four parts played with silliness and excellence by Jordan Reinwald. His waiter wears a different rugby shirt every time he shows up, and he also is splendid as a maitre d' and an offstage voice.
And then there's Jenn Bock, a complete delight as Hildegarde, whose red panties keep slipping down around her ankles and who has an immense crush on Leonard. She's an ardent patriot, too.
Marty Stanberry directs with flair on an almost too-basic set designed by Otis Sweezey, but costume designer Bonnie Kruger should have allowed Edwards more than a single dress.
But Stanberry keeps everything at a feverish pace, especially in the first act when all the jokes are being set up and the actors are flying. Durang gives him less to work with after intermission, with a silly series of flashbacks interrupting the action and the trains of thought. The acting is fine throughout and Durang uses excess to impress. The result is a brisk, hard-hitting comedy with lots of bad language, and aimed at those whose politics are solidly fixed on the left-hand side of the spectrum.
A HotCity Theatre production at the Kranzberg Arts Center through Feb. 27
–Joe