John Killeen (pictured). Photo by Alicia Turvin |
By Tina Arth
Twilight Theater Company is offering up a heapin’ helpin’ of
Southern comedy for the opening of its 2020 season with playwright Del Shores’ Sordid Lives, but unlike many such
farces, this one uses broadly comic characters and situations to express some
important truths. Director Meghan
Daaboul allows her cast to have a lot of fun with a fundamentally absurd (and
heartbreaking) story, but somehow restrains them from going so far over the top
that we lose sight of key characters as real people with real feelings.
Let us begin with absurd: deep in the heart of Texas the
kinfolk are gathering to mourn the passing of beloved mother/sister/grandmother
Peggy Ingram. Peggy’s death was both unexpected and tawdry – she met her maker
in a seedy motel room, having tripped over her lover’s two wooden legs and hit
her head on the edge of the bureau. An already tacky situation is made even
worse by the fact that her legless lover, G. W. Nethercott, is the husband of
Peggy’s good friend Noleta. To add an additional note of bizarre levity,
Peggy’s daughters LaVonda and Latrelle disagree violently about whether their
momma should be buried in her fur stole, and Peggy’s sister Sissy is unable to
mediate effectively while trying to quit smoking by snapping a rubber band
against her wrist.
Moving on to heartbreaking, Peggy’s grandson Ty, a gay New
York actor, agonizes about whether to go home for the funeral, since he has
never come out to his family and they are notoriously closed-minded about
non-standard gender issues. His reticence is well-founded - Peggy had her son
Brother Boy committed to a mental institution, where he has spent the past
twenty years, for being a Tammy Wynette-obsessed transvestite. Continuing the heartbreaking/absurd
dichotomy, each scene (“chapter”) is introduced by brief monologues by Ty as he
bares his soul (and delivers some much-needed exposition) to his latest
therapist, and tacky country music performed by Peggy’s lowlife girl friend,
ex-con Bitsy Mae Harling. In the end, despite its broad comic surface, at its
root the play conforms nicely with Twilight’s 2020 theme of “encounters.” As
Daaboul says in her director’s note, the play “clearly sends a deeper, more
profound message of tolerance and acceptance,” and this is what moves it beyond
the hollow farce of some superficially similar Southern comedies.
Among a generally strong cast, four actors particularly
stood out for me – two for their quiet, attention-grabbing subtlety and two for
their almost over-the-top but still controlled performances. Jonathan Miles (as
grandson Ty Williamson), in multiple brief monologues, anchors the entire show
with his quiet delivery that forces the audience to repeatedly refocus on the
pain that underlies much of the comedy.
The other impressively subtle performance comes from Raven Jazper-Hawke
as Peggy’s sister Sissy. Surrounded by the swirling small-town drama of her
clan and neighbors, finally driven back to smoking by the incessant bickering
of her two nieces, Jazper-Hawke manages to express the dignity and strength of
a very special kind of Southern woman rising above the chaos, refusing to take
sides or be drawn into the fray and accepting all around her without judgment.
Despite a hefty dose of farce in Act I, Sordid Lives still started out a bit slowly for me – I was on the
fence about the show. However, the appearance of John Killeen’s “Brother Boy”
in Act II instantly resolved my doubts. Killeen delivers a brilliant
combination of comedy and tragedy as the institutionalized transvestite, and
his presence lights up the stage – the quintessence of “I laugh that I may not
weep.” The final killer performance
(another Act II brightener) comes from the director, who with less than two
weeks’ notice stepped into the role of Brother Boy’s nemesis Dr. Eve Bollinger.
Daaboul is simultaneously hysterically funny and horrifying as a psychiatrist
intent on getting an Oprah appearance by de-homosexualizing Brother Boy (she
figures since he’s the gayest patient she’s ever encountered, “curing” him will
cement her place in history). I
generally frown on directors taking roles in their own shows, but necessity in
this case was a godsend – the bizarre chemistry between Killeen and Daaboul is
truly memorable.
Steve Koeppen’s set design provides a solid backdrop for the
action – in particular, the Star of Texas-adorned wallpaper (note the subtle
pink coloration of the stars), and Kelcey Weaver’s costumes are as varied as
the characters themselves, providing visual support for the full range from
button-down to a nice dose of white trash glamour. Perhaps most impressive is
Killeen’s final costume, when he goes full-on Tammy Wynette and somehow manages
to balance on his huge red heels.
Due to language and mature themes, Sordid Lives is not appropriate for younger audiences, but it
provides a great evening for adults who appreciate a fine blend of solid
content and comedy.
Twilight Theater Company’s Sordid Lives is playing at the Performing Arts Theater, 7515 N.
Brandon Avenue, Portland through February 9th, with performances at 8 P.M. on
Friday–Saturday, and 3:00 PM on Sunday.