Playwright: Steve Spencer
At: Black Sheep Productions, Royal George Theatre, 1641 N. Halsted
Phone: 312-988-9000; $15-$20
Runs through: April 15
By Jonathan Abarbanel
It's an older new house that sells itself, positioned on a suburban rise with a fine view of what used to an orchard. 'It has everything anyone with disposable income could need,' realtor Jack tells prospective buyers who delightedly observe the nearby franchise stores, among them Krispy Kreme, Pottery Barn, Midas Muffler, CompUSA, Jenny Craig, Olive Garden, White Castle and Cheesecake Factory. No wonder every potential buyer wants to make an offer.
And yet Jack can't close. An anarchist at heart who is an insidious provocateur and entirely self-destructive, he can't stop himself from throwing each buyer's bourgeois complacency back in his/her face, escalating his mocking to the level of violent reaction as he describes contemporary values as 'a perfectly closed system of denial, junk food and pornography.'
At only 65 minutes, this world premiere is a pungent, explosive, dark little comedy, and it's rather brilliantly performed by a veteran crew for the new Black Sheep Productions. Pumped up by Vance Smith's astute yet brassy direction, Kevin Stark turns in an astonishingly hyper-energized performance as Jack. He succeeds in looking bland but acting on the edge. He's supported by a strong eight-person ensemble that never overdoes the farce elements.
The question is, what is author Steve Spencer's purpose? His twisted sitcom, filtered through Tourette's syndrome and attack radicalism, unleashes anarchy that borders on nihilism. I understand what Jack doesn't like, but I don't get what he wants. He's two years out of a failed marriage and wallowing in both self-pity and self-loathing, and he drinks, too. But is that enough to trigger his outrageous hostility? Jack is violently despairing of his own inadequacies but, hey, this is a comedy—so we're not dwelling on that, even though it kinda-sorta underlies everything. But does Spencer really want this play to be about character or about politics? A potential buyer-turned-drinking-buddy dismisses a couple viewing the house with a quite wonderful curse: 'May their daughters be lesbians and their sons be socialists!'
So Spencer has put some spicy stuff in this fast-cooked stew. He's witty and there's evidence that he's a young writer of talent. But this play, as darkly entertaining as it is, seems incomplete. It comes to an end without finishing Jack's story. Where's the second act and what will it hold? What does Spencer believe and what does he want to say? Another Day in the Empire is excellent satire of a sort, but satire is what closes Saturday night, as playwright and director George S. Kaufman famously remarked. Hey, Spence—what else ya got? Drop the other shoe. I'm waiting for it. Meantime, you could do a lot worse than stick with Vance Smith and company.