Theatre in Review: Summer Shorts 2013, Series A (59E59)

	Michael Countryman, Crystal Finn, Even Shinners, Jesse Scheinin. Photo: Carol Rosegg

Dyspepsia is the order of the day at Series A of this year's Summer Shorts, and that's the good news. The first of the summer's two programs of one-acts is buoyed by a pair of barbed comedies that show their characters at their delightful worst. If you're looking for uplift, keep on walking; there's nothing to see here.

First up is "Good Luck (In Farsi)", which might be more aptly titled "Frenemies", as it focuses on a pair of actresses, both up for the same role, enduring professional purgatory outside the audition room. A pair of almost indistinguishably attractive blondes, they are keen to play a CIA operative on a CSI-type drama. (Looking at them, it's hard not to think of Jessica Chastain's improbably dishy terrorist hunter in Zero Dark Thirty.) Despite their marked similarities, they occupy different spots in the show business pecking order. Paige is a demi-celebrity, having appeared briefly in a doomed TV series. (The network showed only six episodes, she notes, but you can get the rest on DVD.) Kate, on the other hand, lacks even a high-profile flop, and she's determined to ace this audition, no matter what.

"Us sistas gotta stick together, right?" So says Kate, in an embarrassing attempt at home-girl attitude as she and Paige pretend to bond over the agonies of being young, beautiful women in show business. But even as they complain about being treated like commodities, each is busy undermining the other. Kate unnerves Paige by pretending to have a working knowledge of Farsi, which is referenced in the script. "I just brushed up on it with Rosetta Stone," she says, casually. Claiming that Kate has authentically Middle-Eastern looks, Paige adds that she would look terrific in a burka: "That eye-hole thingie would really flatter you."

Neil LaBute has so often focused on the dark hearts of men that it's fun to see him take on the ladies for once, revealing a talent for catty comedy while continuing to explore the warping effects of society's obsession with youth and physical beauty. His ear for dialogue is in fine working order, especially when detecting the despair behind Kate's apparent bravado. ("I feel like this is really gonna be my year ... this year or next year.") And, under his direction, Elizabeth Masucci (Paige) and Gia Crovatin (Kate) are a pair of icily perfect comediennes.

There's plenty of malicious fun in the second offering, About a Woman Named Sarah. Yes, that Sarah; Mrs. Palin may seem like easy pickings at this point, but you still have to admire playwright Lucas Hnath's deft and devastating manner of taking her down. Purporting to tell the real story behind John McCain's selection of Palin as his running mate, the piece is structured as a series of four deadpan conversations: between McCain and Palin, Palin and Cindy McCain, Mr. and Mrs. McCain, and finally Palin and her husband, Todd. All of them consist of strung-together sentence fragments occasionally interrupted by offstage bursts of percussion.

The standout sequence features Cindy McCain on a mission to disabuse Sarah of any illusions about her selection. "Everyone said no," she says. "John doesn't have any options. Just you, no other." When Sarah protests, she is informed that "They think a young woman would help. Because they don't have anyone else." Alone, John and Cindy ponder the Mitt Romney option before concluding that America's most famous Mormon is "douchey." Meanwhile, Todd points out to Sarah, "You don't know what you're going to need to know." Sarah replies hopefully, "They're going to give me flashcards." Summing up what many of us suspect about Palin's unquenchable need for fame, she adds, "I didn't want to be a Sarah like all the other Sarahs. I wanted to be a special Sarah." In reply, Todd wonders, "Is that why our kids have such weird names?"

Utterly without redeeming social value and gleefully entertaining, Hnath's piece will be enjoyed by anyone who is sick and tired of the woman the political commentator Andrew Sullivan refers to namelessly as a "former half-term governor turned failed reality star." Eric Hoff's precise direction works the material to maximum effect. The standouts in the four-person cast are Marisa Viola's easily deluded Sarah and Stephanie Cannon's take-no-prisoners Cindy. Tea Partiers are advised to stay away.

Things go downhill fast after the intermission, with "Breaking the Spell", Tina Howe's lame attempt at spinning a fractured fairy tale. The setting is "Merrie Olde England," the time frame "always and ever." The King is upset; thanks to one of those pesky witches' curses, if his sleeping-beauty daughter, Christabel, cannot be awakened, she and the entire court will perish. After this bit of exposition, the King's poor wretched fool -- whose name is, yes, Poor Wretched Fool -- produces an iPad. "Sacre bleu," the King exclaims, "a glowing tablet! Prithee, what is that marvel called?" "Glockensurf," replies PWF, who speaks in gibberish. "Glockensurf," marvels the King. A minute later, they're tap dancing.

"Breaking the Spell" continues in this school-play fashion, tossing off one cutesy self-referential joke after another, as a variety of swains, including a Scottish jazz saxophone player and organist named Heinrich Hesse Horowitz, endeavor to charm Christabel back into consciousness. At least Evan Shinners, who plays Heinrich, performs at each performance a different prelude from Johann Sebastian Bach's The Well-Tempered Clavier, providing a moment of relief. Otherwise, Howe works the Poor Wretched Fool's invented language to death, expecting us to laugh at lines like "Glacken fairton simple dough. Whylee boomtown, smitten whim."

A collection of non sequiturs in search of a script, "Breaking the Spell" is not improved by Birgitta Victorson's direction, which cannot save even an accomplished comic actor like Michael Countryman from looking foolish. Shinners and Jesse Scheinin do not excel in multiple roles.

Overall, Series A is marked by the same professional presentation as all the Summer Shorts series. George Xenos' unit set features a pair of upstage walls that are given distinctive lighting treatments by Greg MacPherson. (The set for "Breaking the Spell" is rather weirdly draped with fabric, a touch that only becomes clear when you know that the script calls for elaborate cobwebs, but never mind.) Sandra Alexandre's costumes for the first two plays are fine; one suspects that she ran out of money when the time came to do "Breaking the Spell." Marios Aristopoulos' sound design is most notable in "Breaking the Spell", which calls for various musical and ambient effects.

I must add that a good 30% of the audience screamed with laughter during "Breaking the Spell." It's enough to make you check out your glockensurf in mid-performance. Anyway, two out of three is a good average, and you can always duck out during intermission.--David Barbour