A Tuna Christmas at Spotlighters

When I see any of the versions of Sleepy Hollow, I am especially terrified by the trees in the surrounding forest.  Likewise, when I read Rip Van Winkle or any of Stephen King’s New England novels, I get a hearty laugh at the speech patterns of the characters.  Why is that?  Because I grew up in the very place Sleepy Hollow was written, and know exactly the quirks of King’s stories.  And that is, perhaps, why I didn’t find much of A Tuna Christmas very funny.  This holiday sequel to Greater Tuna, featuring the same cast of thousands opened recently as the annual late night holiday show at Spotlighters in Baltimore.  I think too much of the script, at least as directed here by Fuzz Roark and Ed Zarkowski, depends on an almost innate understanding of small town Texas.

            At first, the laughs were plentiful, as quirky character after quirky character either appears onstage or is described in the lengthy radio broadcast scene which opens the show.  In fact, in looking back over my notes, it looks like I singled out the first character each of the five actors in the play portrays as relatively strong.  But low and behold as the evening wore on my comments were fewer and farther between.  It must be said, regardless of my thoughts about the production, each of the five cast members have their strong moments and deal pretty well with material they don’t seem to fully understand –at least in that “growing up with it” way.

            Part of the problem with the show is that the pacing is dreadful.  Scene/costume changes take a minute or more, which is a long time considering no scenery is ever changed, and that at any given time only two actors are on stage at any one time (originally the whole thing was performed by two actors).  And within the scenes, the pacing at times grinds to a halt.  In act one this is a painful reality in the second scene, where Gail F. Anderson seems to drawl out each syllable is if rationing out sugar during WWII.  Almost all of act two goes at that pace, and is especially noticeable during the second scene in the act, which takes place at a Tastee Kreme drive-in burger joint. In it, two waitresses (Drew Gaver and Sandi Alexander) named Inita Goodwin and Helen Bedd (read it slow with a Texas drawl, and you get the level of the humor here) who are funny when they interact with each other, but the majority of the scene is the audience listening to one side of phone conversations with unseen customers.  True, the best sight gag of the entire evening is when two very short patrons come to the counter and all you can see is the tops of their wigs.  That is a hint at the higher end of the comedy scale.

            Directors Roark and Zarkowski seem to understand the material; hints of that are throughout, in characterizations, great attention to accents, and costumes (by Stewart Sinex) and wigs (by Roark).  Perhaps they understand it too well, because little effort has been made to make any universality the play contains accessible to the rest of us non-Texans.  One thing these directors have done quite well is creatively working around scenery, as each actor does a masterful job at pantomiming everything from rooting through kitchen cabinets to turning on a record player.  Mr. Gaver also does the most convincing series of window openings and closings in one scene; you’d swear there actually was a window there that the rest of us can’t see.  Ms. Anderson and David E. Elvove start and end the play as DJs at the local radio station, and they never once forgot they were “holding” paper or “where” the microphones were in front of them.  Considering the huge number of “props”, this is really an accomplishment.

            As I said before, each member of the cast has their strengths.  Ms. Anderson, oddly enough, is most at home with her male characters, especially DJ Thurston Wheelis.  She at once parodies and convinces that she is a man.  Mr. Elvove is also at his best at the start and finish of the play as DJ Arles Struvie.  Sandi Alexander lists among her credits appearing in TransAmerica with Felicity Huffman.  Aside from the “emotionally challenged” Jody Burmiller, which is specifically quirky and interesting, one wonders what, if anything she got from the film experience.  “Uncomfortable” would best describe the actor’s inhabiting of the other four characters played.  Alexis Holzer does well with the two most interesting characters, ammo shop owner Didi Snavely and adolescent pain in the ass Charlene Bumiller.  “Didi’s” camouflaged Santa hat is priceless, as is her truck driving drama queen approach to the role.  As Charlene, her heavy sighs at the stupidity of all adults rings so true it was like a teenage flashback for me.  Finally, Mr. Gaver, does a terrific job with roles of both genders, though the night I saw it, his voice seemed stretched pretty thin.  (Directors: show this young man how to “yell” without screaming himself hoarse!)  Again, though, his first two characters, Petey Fisk – Humane Society worker – and Vera Carp – neighborhood gossip and resident snotty queen – are the most unique and carefully characterized.  All of the actors might benefit also by remembering to vary their tone and cadence.  The result, though unintended, I am sure, is a droning of each character – picture a room full of Charlie Brown’s teachers.  Getting the accent down is only half the battle.

            As I said, from the outset, not enough time was spent of the universal elements of the play.  All of us can relate to decorating the tree, neighborhood house decorations, community theatre Christmas plays, and all of those things seem glossed over, even as they are major plot points.  And even the specificity of the location and characters needn’t be so unfamiliar for non-Southern small towners.  I mean, I have never even been to Louisiana, but I understand the ladies in Steel Magnolias, and just like many of you probably haven’t been in the Catskills, I bet most of you can understand the terror of the deep, uninviting forest surrounding Sleepy Hollow.  I would have liked, I think, to get to know the citizens of Tuna, Texas, but they just aren’t approachable.

 

PHOTOS: TOP: (L to R) Gail F. Anderson and David E. Elvove; BOTTOM: (L to R) Gail F. Anderson and Drew Gaver.

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