Couple of tricks, few treats
By MICHAEL SMITH World Entertainment Writer 10/15/01
John Cruncleton and Liz Masters in a scene from the Theater Club of Tulsa of "Seventy Scenes of Halloween" at the Nightingale in Tulsa. Photos by MICHAEL WYKE / Tulsa World
Theater Club can't overcome weaknesses of '70 Scenes of Halloween'
There's a telling scene in the first act of Theater Club's "Seventy Scenes of Halloween" that pretty well captures the mood of this play -- and the quality.
Jeff and Joan are a suburban couple at home on Halloween, answering the front door to young children and bickering over petty issues like many dysfunctional couples who sit and watch TV, barely communicating after many years together. Jeff returns from answering the door, holding a shoebox in his hands. It is empty.
"That's bizarre," Joan says.
"Yes," Jeff says, "either that or it's very dull."
"Seventy Scenes" is both. The local company's cast and crew work hard to overcome this weak work, but in the end, Jeffrey M. Jones' seasonal effort offers only a couple of tricks and very few treats, as seen in Thursday's opening night performance at the Nightingale Theater.
The set-up has the couple watching TV in their living room, the boob tube aimed at them while they and their recliners are aimed at the audience. Behind them is furniture and a wall that features an entryway to the kitchen, a hallway to the front door and a window.
Jeff wants candy corn. Joan watches TV but doesn't pay attention to what she's viewing. They sit, watch, talk, argue, rationalize and apologize by rote. Real fascinating stuff, the kind of entertainment many of us can get by pulling up a chair at the front window of the next-door neighbor's home. It makes for a first act that is as dull as any in recent memory.
Thank goodness these losers are haunted by the Beast and the Witch, a pair of alter ego spirits who seem meant to serve as verbal consciences and prod the couple into exposing truths -- like Jeff's affair -- that never come up during their ritualistically boring conversations. These creatures offer most of the fun to be had from this production.
It all plays out in a setting of literally 70 scenes, separated by blackouts and often presented out of order. In one way, it's like answering the front door on a Halloween night, each time to find a scene that's a little different, but largely repetitious.
In many plays, it's a bonus that the dialogue is of the accurate, overheard variety. Not here -- boring is boring, even with the opportunity to juxtapose a dull duo with a couple of wildly fun, mask-wearing creepies.
It would make a great deal of difference if this play had anything to say, but it does not. This mish-mash of hyper-realistic scenes along with ones that make no sense make "Seventy Scenes" more of an acting exercise that's got to be fun for the performers, if not the audience.
Liz Masters and Edward Sullivan, as Joan and Jeff, both have a few inspired moments when alone, but together they have little chemistry, which is so important in a play about releasing repressed emotions.
John and Sara Cruncleton, known to many as co-founders of the always-fun, always-wacky Midwestern Theater Troupe ("Romolo the Great," "Warm, Delicious Play") are a hoot as usual in the creature roles, over-the-top positions they can really sink their sharp teeth into. They're superb and not on stage nearly enough.
Director Jenny Jackson does get some solid stage design work from Scott Heberling, professional lighting work from Kris Adair and a second act that occasionally crackles. But there's not enough here to recommend the show as an engaging two hours of theater.
The Theater Club production of "Seventy Scenes of Halloween" continues with 8 p.m. performances Thursday-Saturday at the Nightingale Theater, 1416 E. Fourth St. Tickets are $8 -- a dollar off if attending in costume -- and may be reserved by calling 857-9154.
Michael Smith, World entertainment writer, can be reached at 581-8474 or via e-mail at michael.smith@tulsaworld.com.