Playwright: Charles Busch
At: Apple Tree Theatre,
595 Elm Place in Highland Park
Phone: ( 773 ) 432-4335; $35-$45
Runs through: March 19
Upper Manhattan matron Marjorie Taub is depressed. Not without good cause: her therapist has just died, her physician husband has retired from his practice to become the Albert Schweitzer of antihistamines, her alimentary-obsessed mother kvetches at her constantly, and her only confidant is the Iraqi doorman for the building housing her $900K condo. But one day, a stranger arrives, claiming to be a childhood chum—a woman brimming over with glamour, adventure, experience, sophistication, famous friends and significant encounters. Soon Marjorie is chasing her bliss with Dionysiac fervor under the seductive prodding of her too-good-to-be-true mentor.
You would think that the author of Vampire Lesbians of Sodom would push the limits farther than he does in this boulevard comedy premiering in 2000, but Charles Busch seems oddly restrained in his stereotypical depiction of uptight cosmopolitan richos learning to Let It All Hang Out. Oh, Margie and her hubby essay a—yawn!—marijuana-fueled three-way precipitated by their charming companion, actually consummating the deed instead of just discussing it, as they would in the 1969 version of this story. And our geriatric matriarch's scatological commentary achieves new levels of graphic yuckiness. But is this really all the progress we've made over 40 years?
Apple Tree Theatre spares no expense in refurbishing its threadbare material: Paula Scrofano and John Reeger as the egocentric empty-nesters, Renee Matthews as their shrewish elder, Vishal Patel as their servant of convenience and Hollis Resnick as their mercurial temptress, contribute uniformly sleek, witty, well-crafted performances. Scenic designers Richard and Jacqueline Penrod replicate a luxurious ( and curiously spacious ) apartment worthy of a home decor ad. Property designer Micky York's label-conscious furnishings, costume designer Elizabeth Powell Shaffer's preppy wardrobe, and lighting designer Jacqueline Reid's rosy photoschematic likewise reflect the tastes of their insular universe.
The one hint of mischief in an evening geared toward leaving the archetypal Tired Businessman's blood unstirred is Busch's refusal to reveal, for certain, the source of the intervention that rescues these unhappy people from their own torpor. Fairy godmothers, communal hallucinations and con artists have assumed many shapes throughout history, and who among us can predict from where liberation may spring?