Theatre in Review: The Capables (The Gym at Judson)

	Dale Soules and Hugh Sinclair. Photo: Hunter Canning

The Capables makes a startling impression the instant one enters the theatre. The playing area is covered with mountains of things: flags, stuffed animals, trophies, clocks, artificial flowers, dolls, videotapes, colorfully decorated tins, a pink flamingo, a tiny pink Spider-Man chair, and also piles and piles of clothing. It looks like the biggest-ever Toys for Tots collection, or a K-Mart in the aftermath of a killer tornado. (At first glance, it resembles the kind of conceptual art installation, attacking the emptiness of consumer culture, one might find these days at the Park Avenue Armory.) It is a tribute to the set designers, George Hoffmann and Greg Kozatek, that they have managed to assemble this veritable Appalachian range of shiny, plastic disposable merchandise.

This is most assuredly not a case of spectacle for its own sake; in its vast proliferation, the set is essential to the effect of Jay Stull's odd hybrid of showbiz satire and family melodrama. We are told it is the handiwork of Anna Capable, a Virginia housewife who caught the collecting bug in midlife and who remains immune to any remedy. For Anna, every object tells a story; she can pick up a Chia Pet at random and relate an incident that leaves her adult daughter, Jessy, scarlet with embarrassment.

Jessy, who lives at home, is fed up with living with a warehouse's worth of junk and has called on the crew of a Hoarders-like television series to document the mess and then haul it away. (Jessy has many reasons, preeminent among them the fact that her father, Jonah, who suffers from prostate cancer, can no longer find a direct route to the bathroom.) It's not clear why Anna agrees to this scheme -- especially since she has no intention of going along with it -- but it allows Stull to wickedly spoof the members of the TV crew and their exploitative ways. They include the director, David, who has recently delivered a couple of bum episodes and desperately needs a bombshell this time around; Tommy, the cameraman, a constantly smirking stoner who thinks Jessy is really rather cute; and the alarming Jenny Bragg Marcus, MSW, the on-air talent. Hired to be the show's voice of compassion, she sulks furiously off-camera, typing away on her iPhone like Madame Defarge while angrily complaining about her on-air designation as a "professional organizer." ("I mean professional organizer? Really? I'm a THERAPIST, David, I'm not ... I'm not somebody's MAID. I want to make that abundantly clear.") Or, as Tommy puts it, "You, like, have to say all five of her names at all times, or she'll just go ape-shit on you. It's like she was named in Honduras or something, but with white names." He adds, "It's okay. I've been to Honduras, so that's not, like, racist."

Even with remarks like that, Tommy is the crew's resident softie. As Mike, the sound man, reminds him, "You have got to understand that there are no heroes in this world. No villains. Not really. We create them in the editing room. People are dumb as shit, Tommy. They don't want complicated or, or fucking I don't know, nuanced. This isn't like Moby Dick. They want EVIL MOTHER RUINS DAUGHTER'S LIFE."

As long as it is dwelling on this band of professional sob sisters, The Capables provides plenty of malicious fun. But following David's assertion that "We are going to have to crack that little girl [Jessy] like a nut," the focus shifts to the family, and the play never fully recovers. The apparent truth behind Anna's hoarding ways is really rather banal, and the action climaxes with a preposterous scheme designed by Jessy to ease her parents' pain, resulting in an ending that is a bit of a fizzle. The Capables also occasionally wanders off topic. Stull throws in a lengthy scene, detailing how Anna and Jonah met many years earlier, which seems left over from an earlier draft; in any case, it adds nothing.

Still, Stull has a sharp ear for his characters' self-aggrandizing ways, not to mention their astonishing ability to rationalize the most selfish acts. He also has a certain oddball empathy, especially in the second-act opener, a long flirtation between Jessy and Tommy that is both touching and packed with laughter. (Jessy, eyeing Tommy as he rolls himself a joint, asks if it is a "marijuana cigarette." He replies, "I mean, are you like Sarah Palin's cousin-in-law or something?") The performers shine under the deft direction of Stefanie Abel Horowitz, who is especially adept at handling the many instances of overlapping dialogue. Dale Soules, a Broadway veteran last seen in Hands on a Hardbody, is an ideal Anna, especially when explaining that her massive collection is misunderstood because it is "incomplete;" she also makes the most of a scene in which Anna pretends to sort through the junk for the camera, agreeing in the end to toss only one out-of-date coupon. Katie Eisenberg is a charmer as Jessy, who blossoms under the camera's attention even as David and company are busily rooting around for scandal. Micah Stock amusingly captures Tommy's drug-influenced chatter, especially when trading intimacies with Jessy. Charles Browning's David is duly ferocious and self-involved, and Jessie Barr finds plenty of comedy in the contrast between Jenny's soothing on-screen manner and her demanding real-life persona.

The extraordinary set can't have been easy to light, but Nick Houfek, working with what appears to be a notably tiny rig, works wonders, creating a varied series of looks. The costumes, by Tilly Grimes and Alexandra Rozansky, are generally well-suited to the characters, although the clothes for the young Anna and Jonah don't seem to reflect their different time period. Amy Altadonna's sound design blends various effects -- cars, crickets, TV voiceovers -- with musical selections ranging from country tunes to "Clair de Lune."

It may be that Stull set out to write one play -- about the Capable family -- only to have his supporting characters take over. Even if the effort to hold it all together leaves plenty of seams showing, The Capables captures nearly everything that is blood-curdling about the coarsening effect of marketing "real people" for mass entertainment. It's a very funny play, even if the joke is on us. -- David Barbour