Playwright: Bertolt Brecht, adapted by Martin and Rose Kramer. At: Tuta Theatre Chicago at the
Chopin Theatre, 1543 W. Division. Web site: www.tutato.com ( no phone ) ; $25, $20 students, seniors. Runs through: Feb. 14
We've all been therewitnesses to the wedding that no good will come of, either in the long run for the newly declared spouses or in the short term for the guests unleashed on the open bar. Lurking behind the celebratory smiles and congratulatory toasts are snipes and second guessing, an undertow of abrasive cacophony and impolite honesty laced through the industrial strength happily-ever-after choreography. One clue that something is horribly, hilariously amiss? When every single dish on the dinner menu is gelatinous, starting with a quavering chartreuse codfish entrée and ending with a blood red pudding that wriggles like mites in a distressed intestine.
So it goes with Tuta's staging of Bertolt Brecht's The Wedding, which under director Zeljko Djukic presents bourgeois matrimony as a folly of looming catastrophe. The wedding dinner fish-mold is just the start of the breakdown.
Key to the absurdist charm of the boisterous, 70-minute romp is Djukic's ensemble, a seamless crew with precisely the right blend of raucous pep and obnoxious snark. It's a formidable feat. Creating a credible wedding receptionthe guests getting progressively drunker and behaving with corresponding spontaneity as the toasts wear onis not a job for amateurs. The very nature of the event being staged defies the essence of scripted drama, i.e., the script. If the outbreaks of dancing foolery, off-kilter warbling and lust-addled gropings don't feel wholly impromptu, all is lost. Djukic's cast pulls it off with verve. Conversational lunacies ( "Cows never eat fish. They're vegetarians." ) come fast and furious and with the light, improvisational feel of a tipsy gathering growing tipsier by the moment.
Martin and Rose Kramer's adaptation is rich in revelry and revelations, from the Bride's Father's ( Kirk Anderson ) dismaying anecdotes about dropsy to The Bridegroom's Friend's ( Andy Hager ) illicit cell-phone shenanigans. An intensely physical piece, The Wedding also lets the cast let loose its inner clown: As The Bride's Sister, Jamielyn Gray sports a Jersey Shore coiffure and a keen sense of raucous comedy. As The Wife, Jacqueline Stone is a happy hussy making the most of her character's well-received bawdiness.
As for the Bridegroom ( Trey Maclin ) and the Bride ( Jennifer Byers ) , their journey from carefully calibrated joy to flailing vexation is a journey worth watching, a thing of silliness and despair, and in the end, a cutting commentary on the ludicrousness of matrimonial bliss.
Underscoring the devolution of the wedding party, Martin Andrew's deconstructionist beauty of a set. The exploding lamp at the top of the show is but a harbinger of the literal breakdowns to come.
Equally important is the piece's music, a mix of original pieces by Jesse Terrill and schmaltzy wedding standards. Music director Ben Harris ( who also plays the Young Man ) helms pitch-perfect singalongs and solos. If laughing gas could be heard, it would sound like this: Giddy, uninhibited and infectious.