On very rare occasions, I start a review by suggesting that readers close my blog immediately and scurry(electronically) to the theater group’s website, buy tickets, then navigate back to the review for elucidation. This advice goes doubly when the production in question is at the tiny Tualatin Heritage Center, where limited seating means that every show should be a full house. Why am I taking this extreme step now? Because Mask & Mirror’s current production of playwright James McLure’s duo, Laundry and Bourbon and Lone Star, is just that good. Director Lennon Smith, ably assisted by her jack-of-all-trades husband George Mauro, the rest of the production team, and a fabulous cast have conjured up the funniest show I’ve seen in years. Better yet, they will continue to make this magic until the end of July, so I may even be able to see it twice!
I am struggling with the task of giving a lucid synopsis, so I will pirate the director’s prose: “Laundry and Bourbon/Lone Star, two one-act comedies, offer the audience two sides of the same coin. Through two very different sets of characters, we see the intimate details of life a small Texas town during a time of unrest and uncertainty in America.” I would quibble with just one part of this description – I do not see these as two separate one-act comedies, but as two halves of a single work (despite the fact that one does not generally give each act in a play its own title!). While each part could certainly stand alone, the story is infinitely richer because of the relationships between the women in the first part and the men in the second.
The women? There’s lonely, laundry-folding, bourbon sipping Elizabeth and her best friend Hattie, who escapes her three god-awful children by watching TV, gossiping, and making sure Elizabeth doesn’t have to drink alone. Enter self-righteous, born-again Southern Baptist snob Amy Lee to spoil their fun with her talk of mah jongg and country clubs, and the fuse is lit. Laundry and Bourbon is funny, touching, emotional, and authentic (in a down-home, Texas kind of way), but nothing in it prepares the audience for the knockdown, drag-out comedy of Lone Star. In the dusty parking lot of the quintessential Texas bar, we encounter Roy, a beer swilling vet with severe PTSD whose life has been off the tracks ever since ‘Nam – all he has left from his previous life is his wife Elizabeth, his ’59 pink T-Bird, and his slightly dim little brother Ray. As with Laundry and Bourbon, an already chaotically depressing scene is upended by the arrival of an outsider – Amy Lee’s wimp of a husband, Cletis. How is all of this funny? Hats and spurs off to playwright McLure, director Smith, and an amazing cast that takes this premise up, up, and over the top!
Amber Green (Elizabeth) is absolutely perfect, and saves the first part from being the stereotypical southern schlockcomedy. She gives the role a quiet dignity that sucks us into the pain as well as the humor of small-town life, and is apparently able to cry on cue. Be sure to sit near the front of the room if you can – the subtle beauty of her performance is worth a few extra minutes to arrive early. As her buddy Hattie, Jody Odowick is just as effective in a loud, gauche, weirdly lovable way – Hattie gets the best of the comic lines and physical comedy, and she doesn’t waste a thing. To the extent that there are any weak moments in Laundry and Bourbon, they come from Rachel King’s portrayal of Amy Lee. Like the other women, she isfunny and gets her share of the laughs, but she sometimes takes her character’s mannerisms to excess, so that she seems to be playing a parody of her type – if she reels it in just a little she’ll be a lot more believable.
The team of Brick Andrews (as Roy) and Blake Copeland (as Ray) is simply sublime. I am not, in general, the “laugh out loud” type, but driving home from the show I rediscovered my long-lost abdominal muscles because they actually hurt from excessive usage. No worries – it was worth it to spend an hour with this hilarious pair of comics. The pathetic cringing and whining of Matthew Grand’s “Cletis” provided a needed break from the physical comedy, allowing me to reset myself before the next onslaught of Roy and Ray as they drank, fought, and reminisced their way through the script.
While I’m passing out the praise, let me not overlook the lighting and sound effects by George Mauro. On a platform that barely dares call itself a stage, Mauro managed to recreate the sounds of a tattered down-home bar as well as the endless vistas of Texas’ barren Hill Country including a glorious red sunset, and Steve Hotaling followed the sound and light cues with utter precision.
Because of mature (sometimes very mature) dialogue, the show is not appropriate for children – but other than that, my advice is just GO!
Mask & Mirror’s production of Laundry and Bourbon and Lone Star is playing at the Tualatin Heritage Center, 8700 SW Sweek Drive, Tualatin through Sunday, July 31st with performances at 7:30 PM on Fridays and Saturdays and 2:30 PM on Sundays.
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