Michael Hisamoto, Gillian Mackay-Smith, Alexander Platt, Celeste Oliva, Craig Mathers & Theresa Nguyen in "Stage Kiss" (photo: Mark S. Howard) |
Picture this for tautological theater: in a
play-within-a-play, two long-lost lovers who are actors are cast as
two long-lost lovers. The possibilities seem endless. But leave it
to playwright Sarah
Ruhl (In the Next Room, or the vibrator play,
and many other works) and Director Courtney O'Connor (Buyer
and Cellar) to come up with
Lyric Stage Company's latest production, Stage Kiss. Soon
after the two exes re-meet, one character, Kevin (the hilarious
Michael Hisamoto), declares “what a strange job to kiss strangers
in front of people and make it look like you know each other. Or
kiss someone you know in front of people and make it look like a
stranger”. This is Ruhl at her wackiest, proposing a challenge for
her cast to convey her farce in all its unmitigated glory.
The character known only as She (the magnificent Celeste
Oliva) later asks (with a split infinitive and all) “When I
kissed you just now did it feel like an actor or a person kissing a
person because I've kissed you so many times over the last few weeks
I'm starting to not know the difference”. And the character known
only as Husband (the very funny Craig Mathers) has his say: “You
have kissed each other, let’s see, nine times a night, eight shows
a week, four-week run, that’s two hundred and eighty-eight times.
That’s not love. That’s oxytocin.” (Which the program notes
correctly describe as “the hormone that triggers pleasurable and
erotic feelings”). So the play is fundamentally meta-physically
convoluted.
The other actor, referred to only as He (the fine
Alexander Platt) also feels the confusion, though the director of the
play-within-a-play, Adrian Schwalbach (the always dependable Will
McGarrahan) is a bit out of it. The rest of the cast include comic
turns by Theresa Nguyen (as several characters, Angela, Millie and
Maid), and Gillian Mackay-Smith (as Millicent and Laurie). The
creative team's efforts are on a par with Lyric's best, from the
Scenic Design by Matt Whiton to the Costume Design by Amanda Mujica,
Lighting Design by Chris Hudacs and Sound Design & Original Music by Arshan Gailus.
This is not Ruhl's best work, as it eventually falls
into the trap of presenting “bad actors” in a “bad play”
(think Meryl Streep, a terrific singer, purposefully off-key in the
film Florence Foster Jenkins) for too long a time,
threatening (but not succeeding) to become a bad experience for the
audience. This production boasts a cast capable of carrying this
central conceit, so the laughs survive the overly lengthy exposition.
It's a case of performers being better than the material they're
given. Still, even second-tier Ruhl is cause for rejoicing.
It's becoming a truism, or even a cliché, to allude to
how deeply we all need a good laugh these days. So rest assured this
is not fake theater, it's a rare opportunity to experience a cast
(and audience) so obviously enjoying themselves.