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| Allie Rivenbark, Zero Feeney, Tamara Sorelli, David Remple |
By Tina Arth
When going to see a play that’s new to me, I make it a firm
rule not to Google the show in advance – I want to approach the material with
as few preconceptions as possible. However, I love programs, and try to arrive
at the theater early enough to scan the program before the show starts. Part of
this is my absurd obsession with finding the inevitable typo (admittedly
hypocritical, since my reviews often house blunders). However, my real goal is
to learn as much as possible about the specific production I am about to see –
cast list and bios, director’s notes, etc. can be a goldmine of information
about how this particular performance was developed. A good sign for me is a
“something old, something new” mix. I want “old” in the production team, a stable
and strong group that speak to the company’s ability to retain and commit
experienced techs, costumers, stage managers, and other essential support
personnel. I look for the “new” in the direction and casting – not from a love
of novelty, but from the conviction that the best companies eagerly seek out
(and are able to attract) these front-line folks from the widest possible
community. Twilight Theater‘s Body Awareness hits a homer on both
counts – the director and three of four cast members are new to the company,
and the production team is rife with a team of utterly reliable regular
suspects.
Annie Baker’s 2008
Body Awareness is a beautifully written comedy satirizing (among other things) the hypocrisy of a
culture of over-the-top feminist political correctness at Shirley State
College, a fictional small-town Vermont school. Phyllis is a professor, and her
partner Joyce teaches at a local high school. They share their home with
Joyce’s son Jared, a quirky young man who exhibits several symptoms of
Asperger’s syndrome but refuses to see a therapist for treatment. The entire
play takes place during “Body Awareness Week,” an event originally designed to
highlight eating disorders but expanded by Phyllis to encompass an absurdly
broad range of cultural offerings, including a photo exhibit by houseguest Frank
Bonitatibus, an aging hippie who specializes in portraits of nude girls and
women. Phyllis is appalled by Frank’s
photographs, although she’s never actually seen them, and becomes very jealous
when Joyce decides to pose for Frank. Jared refuses to try college because he
is an OED-obsessed autodidact, and somehow believes that he can become a
professional lexicographer with no formal higher education – and he gets
himself fired from his job at McDonald’s to free up more time for his studies
(and to learn how to attract a girlfriend). A series of smaller explosions lead
up to a final crisis, and by the final scene each character has learned and
grown a little - there is no neat “happily ever after” moment in sight.
David Remple is simply remarkable as Jared, and manages to
deliver what is in many ways a comic role without cheapening the performance to
play for laughs. It takes him very little time to win over the audience as he
fights the Asperger’s label; his sensitive performance helps us to move from
sympathy to empathy for his plight. In his brief time as a male role model for
Jared (and potential suitor for Joyce), Zero Feeney brings a cheery, Zen-like
calm to his portrayal of Frank. Despite occasionally creepy moments we like
him, and forgive him his frequent cluelessness because his delivery is so
completely innocent.
The author has reserved her broadest satire for the role of
Phyllis, the supercilious super-feminist psychology professor. Allie Rivenbark never misses a beat in the
role, and unquestionably earns the most laughter, but the price is that she is
more of a parody, less a fully realized character than her cast-mates. Finally,
there’s Tamara Sorelli, whose poignantly believable portrayal of Joyce anchors
the show and connects the other characters. Sorelli captures the bind in which
Joyce, like countless other women throughout history, finds herself – the loving peacemaker, trying to ease the
tensions around her with apologies, patience, humor, and a solid core of
emotional intelligence. Joyce is caught up by the almost impossible challenge
of trying to be all things to all people, and Sorelli makes us feel the love,
pain, heartache, and ultimate strength of her character’s steady march toward
self-realization.
The set is cleverly designed, with smoothly moving parts to
facilitate set changes, but the play’s numerous brief scenes are still
sometimes choppy. A few little things might help, like finding a way to leave
the dining room table in place or using large calendar pages instead of writing
on the blackboard, and perhaps costume changes could be streamlined. In any
case, the show is not overly long (just two hours, with intermission) and
certainly never drags. Ilana Watson’s sound design is a huge asset – whenever
the stage is dark, the music shines brightly.
Despite Greg Shilling’s self-effacing director’s notes, he
clearly did a great deal more than tell his actors where to stand and why – the
pacing is steady, key moments are never over or underplayed, and the comedy is
not allowed to overshadow deeper themes– all marks of skillful direction and
close attention to detail. Even a small Mother’s Day crowd filled the theater
with laughter, and this is definitely not a show to miss.
Twilight Theater Company’s Body Awareness is playing at the Performing Arts Theater, 7515 N.
Brandon Avenue, Portland through May 19, with performances at 8 P.M. on
Thursday-Friday–Saturday, and 3:00 PM on Sunday.
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