Theater Reviews—

TheaterWorks Has Opened Its Season With A Wonderful Tour De Farce

By Julie Stern

NEW MILFORD — Let it be said that I tend to be turned off by the idea of basing a comic routine on the struggles of a stroke victim to speak coherently. Let it also be said that I thought Memento was the most boring, awful movie I’ve seen in years.

These caveats aside, New Milford Theatreworks’ production of David Lindsay-Abaire’s Fuddy Meers  (a garbled pronunciation of “funny mirrors”) is an off the wall farce, that is genuinely funny, entertaining, and even possessed of a serious undertone.

Its success probably lies less in the play itself than in the fact that it is TheatreWorks doing it. The prospect of what a lesser company might do with it is rather alarming.

Beginning with George Meadows’ lovingly detailed set and guided by Susan Pettibone’s deft direction, the cast does an inspired job of interpreting their goofy roles with such relish that the audience is too busy laughing to be offended.

The premise of the play (as with Memento) is that the protagonist, Claire, suffers from a rare form of dramatically useful amnesia that causes her to wake up each morning with her mind a newly erased blank slate, leaving her husband, Richard, with the task of reorienting her (your slippers are on the floor, put them on your feet…your name is Claire…). Whatever parts of her memory are regained during the day will be lost once again as soon as she falls asleep.

While Richard is taking a quick shower, Claire is kidnapped by a badly scarred limping man with manacles dangling from one wrist. Explaining that he is her beloved brother Zack, he takes her to “their mother’s” house.

Unfortunately, their mother, Gert, is recovering from a stroke and can only speak in mangled pronunciation and syntax. It is clear, however, that she is terrified of Zack.

The situation is complicated by the arrival of Millet, a dim-witted escaped convict whose timid demeanor is in stark contrast to the persona of Hinky Binky – a foul-mouthed hand puppet that serves as Millet’s alter-ego.

Meanwhile, Richard and Kenny, Claire’s 15-year-old pothead son, head out to find her, only to be stopped by a tough-talking policewoman whose uniform is in peculiar disarray. When the three of them arrive at Gert’s house, the strands of plot begin to come together like the fragmented pieces of fun-house mirror that make up Claire’s past.

Many questions remain to be addressed: Why does Zack get so ballistic at the mention of “bacon?” Why is the policewoman’s uniform so many sizes too large? What are those strains of calliope music and echoes of barking dogs that only Claire seems to hear? Why was Claire kidnapped anyhow, and why is her son such a dysfunctional obnoxious jerk?

Amazingly, as these issues all get cleared up, the play reveals an understated message about the fragility of the past and the desire to change and make things better, if only we could be given a second chance.

M.J. Hartell is terrific as the determinedly upbeat Claire, cheerfully pursuing the threads of her identity without ever being disheartened by the ominous hints surrounding her.

Sonnie Osborne gives a whale of a performance as Gert, demonstrating that while her words may be garbled, her mind is not, and she can still pack a mean shovel.

Keir Hansen is wonderfully split between the two sides of Millet, and Richard Pettibone chews the scenery with happy abandon as the limping man with an anger management problem.

Finally, Devin Hanley as the sullen teen and Bruce Thomson as the devoted husband handle their roles beautifully.

In short, the whole production is a tour de farce that should make you laugh a lot without stimulating your mind too much. And if you aren’t concerned about some language and some “herbal” indulgence, your kids might get a kick out of it too.

(Performances continue through March 20. Evening shows are Friday and Saturday at 8, and a 2 pm matinee is planned for Sunday, March 7.

All tickets are $15. Call 860-350-6863 for details or reservations.)