REVIEW: Laughing Wild

A Review

Just Breathe !

By R. J. Donovan

Did you ever have one of those days?

That’s the jumping off point for the satirical “Laughing Wild,” presented by The Hunting Theatre Company at the Calderwood Pavilion through June 26. Nicholas Martin directs the production with a sharp eye and ear.

This two-actor evening is really a three-part comedy set in the agony of the urban jungle. Two consecutive monologues are followed by a dialogue between the two characters simply identified as Woman and Man.

In this case, Woman is the inimitable Debra Monk (left). And Man is actor and playwright Christopher Durang, who just happens to have authored the play.

Woman is like that pest at a cocktail party who seems convinced you long to hear her every thought. Stylish in a black pants suit, a red wrap tossed around her shoulders and with her hair neatly coifed, she looks every bit the Upper East Side New Yorker out for a day on Park Avenue. She says sweetly but with authority, “ I want to talk to you about life.”

Then the stream of consciousness freight train of anxiety takes off and she could just as easily be a bag lady screaming at her own reflection in the plate glass window outside Bloomingdale’s.

She is particularly rattled after an ugly grocery store incident over a can of tuna fish that caused her to conk another shopper over the head. Things go from mad to worse as she explains her thoughts on everything from taxi cab drivers to street musicians, Alan Alda, the ozone layer, alcoholics anonymous, teenagers from New Jersey, anyone who appears happy and her favorite piece of literature, “Bleak House” -- not the book, just the title. She also wants to see Dr. Ruth and Mother Theresa fight to the death in the Coliseum.

At first, it all comes off like insane ranting, until the audience begins to identify with everything Woman is saying. Yes she’s been in an insane asylum ("my doctors were exhausted listening to me"), and yes, she appears dangerously unbalanced. But she is verbalizing the thoughts we all think but dare not utter. Her observations would appear brilliant if she weren’t so insane.

The cranial computer chip that keeps the rest of us us quiet has been tripped in this gal and out comes every intense annoyance like a gushing waterfall of angst. The best thing is, it’s being dumped at our feet by someone as gifted as Monk, who shows that laughter is only a blink away from tears. She's "laughing wild amid severest woe."

The tone changes somewhat when Man appears (Durang, left). He’s an existential sort, calmly clutching a clump of note cards and about to begin a lecture -- for us. He’s standing beneath what appears to be a huge Egyptian eye, complete with cut glass tear drops.

He, too, has his demons, but he’s been taught to purge them from his being via any number of self-help programs and affirmations. None of which seem to be working. It also turns out he was the unfortunate guy in Woman's tuna fish encounter.

He's rejected religion and adopted a New Age outlook on life. As he sorts through his own set of grievances, we’re soon knee-deep in injustice, fear and personal sexual revelations.

Why does the religious right tell him AIDS is a punishment from God on homosexuals. If that's true, then why does it also afflict hemophiliacs and Haitians? Just because their names happen to begin with “h” too. What role DOES God play in things. Celebrity award winners always seem to thank God, so are we to assume that The Almighty, who had no time to intervene during the holocaust, maintains great interest in determining the outcome of The Tonys?

It’s a treat to see the playwright perform his own work. And Durang charms with a boyish innocence that's so at odds with the depth and gravity of his observations.

In Act Two, Woman and Man intermingle through their dreams. We relive the tuna incident and then Woman dreams of going to Man’s Harmonic Convergence in Central Park, even though she has no idea what that is.

Man dreams he's The Infant du Prague guesting on "The Sally Jesse Raphael Show," taken over by Woman, who, in her own dream, has killed the talk show hostess and assumed her celebrity.

Despite "Sally's" insistence, Man can’t sit down because he’s, well...a statue. She soon tries to kill him too, but everyone knows you can’t kill a religious icon.

While the first act is presented like two tight stand-up routines, the second act roams a bit, covers too much of the same material and comes off long.

Set in the 80’s and filled with topical references that may be lost on some, the success of “Laughing Wild” lies in the performances. Happily, Monk and Durang are nimble, funny and wonderfully authoritative in their roles. Both are losing agonizing battles, but onward they march.

The result is a tirade that makes a lot of sense.

"Laughing Wild " is at The Calderwood Pavilion at the Boston Center for the Arts, 527 Tremont Street in Boston, through June 26. For information, call 617-266-0800.

Production Photos: Carol Rosegg

-- OnStage Boston

06/12/05

			A Review Just Breathe ! By R. J. Donovan Did you ever have one of those days? That’s the jumping off point for the satirical “Laughing Wild,” presented by The Hunting Theatre Company at the Calderwood Pavilion through June 26. Nicholas Martin directs the production with a sharp eye and ear. This two-actor evening is really a three-part comedy set in the agony of the urban jungle. Two consecutive monologues are followed by a dialogue between the two characters simply identified as Woman and Man. In this case, Woman is the inimitable Debra Monk (left). And Man is actor and playwright Christopher Durang, who just happens to have authored the play. Woman is like that pest at a cocktail party who seems convinced you long to hear her every thought. Stylish in a black pants suit, a red wrap tossed around her shoulders and with her hair neatly coifed, she looks every bit the Upper East Side New Yorker out for a day on Park Avenue. She says sweetly but with authority, “ I want to talk to you about life.” Then the stream of consciousness freight train of anxiety takes off and she could just as easily be a bag lady screaming at her own reflection in the plate glass window outside Bloomingdale’s. She is particularly rattled after an ugly grocery store incident over a can of tuna fish that caused her to conk another shopper over the head. Things go from mad to worse as she explains her thoughts on everything from taxi cab drivers to street musicians, Alan Alda, the ozone layer, alcoholics anonymous, teenagers from New Jersey, anyone who appears happy and her favorite piece of literature, “Bleak House” -- not the book, just the title. She also wants to see Dr. Ruth and Mother Theresa fight to the death in the Coliseum. At first, it all comes off like insane ranting, until the audience begins to identify with everything Woman is saying. Yes she’s been in an insane asylum ("my doctors were exhausted listening to me"), and yes, she appears dangerously unbalanced. But she is verbalizing the thoughts we all think but dare not utter. Her observations would appear brilliant if she weren’t so insane. The cranial computer chip that keeps the rest of us us quiet has been tripped in this gal and out comes every intense annoyance like a gushing waterfall of angst. The best thing is, it’s being dumped at our feet by someone as gifted as Monk, who shows that laughter is only a blink away from tears. She's "laughing wild amid severest woe." The tone changes somewhat when Man appears (Durang, left). He’s an existential sort, calmly clutching a clump of note cards and about to begin a lecture -- for us. He’s standing beneath what appears to be a huge Egyptian eye, complete with cut glass tear drops. He, too, has his demons, but he’s been taught to purge them from his being via any number of self-help programs and affirmations. None of which seem to be working. It also turns out he was the unfortunate guy in Woman's tuna fish encounter. He's rejected religion and adopted a New Age outlook on life. As he sorts through his own set of grievances, we’re soon knee-deep in injustice, fear and personal sexual revelations. Why does the religious right tell him AIDS is a punishment from God on homosexuals. If that's true, then why does it also afflict hemophiliacs and Haitians? Just because their names happen to begin with “h” too. What role DOES God play in things. Celebrity award winners always seem to thank God, so are we to assume that The Almighty, who had no time to intervene during the holocaust, maintains great interest in determining the outcome of The Tonys? It’s a treat to see the playwright perform his own work. And Durang charms with a boyish innocence that's so at odds with the depth and gravity of his observations. In Act Two, Woman and Man intermingle through their dreams. We relive the tuna incident and then Woman dreams of going to Man’s Harmonic Convergence in Central Park, even though she has no idea what that is. Man dreams he's The Infant du Prague guesting on "The Sally Jesse Raphael Show," taken over by Woman, who, in her own dream, has killed the talk show hostess and assumed her celebrity. Despite "Sally's" insistence, Man can’t sit down because he’s, well...a statue. She soon tries to kill him too, but everyone knows you can’t kill a religious icon. While the first act is presented like two tight stand-up routines, the second act roams a bit, covers too much of the same material and comes off long. Set in the 80’s and filled with topical references that may be lost on some, the success of “Laughing Wild” lies in the performances. Happily, Monk and Durang are nimble, funny and wonderfully authoritative in their roles. Both are losing agonizing battles, but onward they march. The result is a tirade that makes a lot of sense. "Laughing Wild " is at The Calderwood Pavilion at the Boston Center for the Arts, 527 Tremont Street in Boston, through June 26. For information, call 617-266-0800. Production Photos: Carol Rosegg -- OnStage Boston 06/12/05

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