Playwright: Chris Pomeroy
At: Reverie at Stage Left
Phone: (312) 409-6501; $15
Runs through: May 8
When I read about the plot line—small, theater-crazy town disappointed when its annual production wasn't going to be Oklahoma, but a two-person musical version of Macbeth—I was thinking, 'Oh, this could be fun. Sort of like Waiting for Guffman.' For those of you who might be under the same impression: perish the thought. While I certainly wouldn't fault any theater company for coming up with a new work that is decidedly non-derivative, My Affair with Lady Macbeth could use some of the madcap humor for which Christopher Guest's mock documentary is known.
Ardmore is a little town, buoyed up annually by a trucked-in musical, the kind of musical for which the term 'show tunes' was coined. Hey, just look at some of the real estate: there's the Greased Lightning muffler shop, Andrew Lloyd Webber Way, and Camelot Grocers. If only the show could have had more fun with the idea of a town built around Broadway musicals! Instead, playwright Chris Pomeroy and director Scott Westerman have opted to create another universe, one that has its dark, surreal side. Which, again, wouldn't have been bad if that was the tone throughout the piece and if it had been done well. But here we have a misguided love affair, a hungry-for-blood cuckolded husband, an overly ambitious sheriff (played with annoying volume and overdone bluster by Scott Unes), and other assorted small-town characters who contribute little more than reiterating that the town needs a good musical to survive long after we've gotten this message. There are a lot of elements in this play and they don't all mesh, which is why My Affair with Lady Macbeth never seems to gel in any cohesive or satisfying way. The tone is all over the place. (Is it a comedy? Is it a drama? Is it theater of the absurd? Or just absurd theater?) The performances are pretty committed and passionate about making their characters real without a lot of ham handed scenery chewing (other than the afore-mentioned Mr. Unes, who seemed to be in another play). Finally, there's no reason to care about any of the characters, who are mostly one-note ciphers who inspire apathy, rather than sympathy.
All in all, this production seems overly long and talky at 100 minutes, and about as professional as the starry-eyed townsfolk at which it aims to poke fun. By the curtain call, when the cast embarrassingly breaks into a rousing chorus of Oklahoma! in front of a silent and dumbstruck audience, you know just what kind of theatrical experience you've had.