Playwright: Sean Graney
At: Flush Puppy at Prop Theater,
4225 N. Lincoln
Phone: (773) 348-7767; $10
Runs through: Sept. 27
Flush Puppy Productions has poured energy, integrity and intensity into staging this world premiere of an unactable and self-indulgent play. The well-credentialed author, Sean Graney, is an award-winning director and producer for another theater troupe, The Hypocrites. He should know a good play from a bad one, but he's blinded by his own authorship. Why Flush Puppy similarly is blind, is anyone's guess. Perhaps director Joanie Schultz saw opportunities to create wonderful stage pictures, and bravura moments for her actors. Directors often mistake such things for good playwriting; they are not.
In a program note, Graney admits he's a novice playwright, and that he wrote En Mortem 'at a time of great personal pain and confusion.' So his motivation was a therapeutic learning curve, as deadly a combination for playwriting success as an iceberg and an ocean liner. En Mortem is no exception to the rule that the frequent autobiographical indulgences of beginning playwrights never should see the light of public performance. At least it's brief (75 minutes) and reasonably energetic.
En Mortem is symbolist. A young couple, Johnny and Rachel, are in a hotel room in Innocence Falls, a once-bucolic rural retreat. But it's sweltering and the AC doesn't work. Another couple, Mike Rice and Starryeyes, invade their room and turn hot Innocence into Hell. The alter ego twosome is as loud, aggressive, violent and overtly sexual as Johnny and Rachel are quiet, passive and repressed. All four wear only underwear/lingerie. Mike Rice—the only character with a last name—always is called 'Mike Rice.' His name is code. Could be 'My Christ,' except En Mortem isn't religious. More likely Mike Rice='my crisis'=Johnny's crisis=playwright.
Graney dispenses with exposition. Johnny—the central figure—may be in crisis, or Johnny and Rachel, but we don't know who they are, why they're together, or why we should care. They talk pretentious claptrap. And why do they let Mike Rice and Starryeyes in? Why do they let them stay? Why does a bear picnic with Goldilocks? Why is the AC repairman a metaphysical philosopher named Fogman, who predictably restores the AC? Viewers won't give a damn because they won't understand the source of Johnny's pain. The principal characters talk at us rather than revealing themselves to us.
Flush Puppy's talent is far better than the play, more's the pity. Director Schultz attacks with high energy and a reasonably stylish staging eye. All four leads—Aaron Reichert (Johnny), Maritza Cervantes (Rachel), Salena Hanrahan (Starryeyes) and John Marszalek (Mike Rice)—are crisp and committed and sometimes make things meaningful. New face Marszalek especially is well-showcased in an edgy, physical performance. Scenic artists Russell Poole and Nelson Kahinka provide a colorful, appealing Chagall-esque mural of tiny trees, stars and a blazing sun.