By Jason Hagey and Alisha Hagey
Salt Lake Acting Company’s production of A Funny Thing … in Salt Lake City, allows itself to be more than a comedy about couples and more than a drama about dying parents. Typically, this is referred to as a ‘dramedy’ but if feels like something new, something different. Let’s begin with Playwright Halley Feiffer’s purposefully overwrought title: A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Gynecologic Oncology Unit at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center of New York City. Though many funny things happen in the Gynecologic Oncology Unit, A Funny Thing Happened … is a deeply moving, exceptionally brave, and thoughtful piece. Feiffer’s play proves that she is a modern-day Anton Chekhov. This staggering production goes places that few in Utah will go, and does so with wit, wisdom, and a fair amount of daring.
Before espousing just how great this production is, it is important to note a few things:
- Language. There is a lot of strong language, particularly at the very beginning of the play. If adult language isn’t your thing, don’t see this play.
- Content. Let’s just say that there was an intimacy director (Claire Warden) on staff as part of the production. If you are concerned about sexual content, if it makes you at all squeamish, or worse, this is not the show for you. If plays have a rating, this one would be rated R.
If none of this bothers you, then this is an incredible production and well-worth your consideration.
Now, for a short theatrical history lesson: Anton Chekhov was a Russian playwright in the late 19th century who was known for his “slice of life” realism, concentrating less on plot and more on the substance of living. His plays are often termed ‘comedies’ though, I must admit, I can see how they could be considered funny, but I usually don’t find myself laughing. Perhaps it is because I lack Russian heritage. Or, perhaps it is because his humor was of a different era. Either way, while watching Fieffer’s play, I couldn’t help the comparison to his work because Feiffer focuses on the substance of living over any prosaic plotting. We get a slice of life.
As the title intimates, the setting is a two-person hospital room. There are two beds separated by a curtain. On one side is Marcie and the other is Geena. They both lay in bed, mostly inebriated by the pain medications necessary to get through the horrid effects of ovarian cancer. The bulk of the play is spent between Marcie’s daughter and Geena’s son and their interaction.
Fieffer focuses on realistic language – using overlapping, naturalistic dialogue to bring us into this burgeoning relationship. At first, the couple is rude, angry, and stressed. Their differences in grieving strike at one another. Later, they come to find a need for each other during this hardship in their lives as their mothers are dying. In the end, the audience experiences so many emotions it is amazing the plethora Fieffer is able to pack into this short play.
The production deals with death and dying (it is cancer ward, after all), but it also deals heavily with what it means to be a child and a parent. For those who have experienced the death of a loved one, especially to cancer, there is so much that rings true of the experience. The subject and the constant barrage of differing, often contradictory, emotions are adroitly handled by Director Sarah Shippobotham. The light moments are fun and fanciful while the heavy moments are poignant and powerful. With the whimsical title, it is easy to assume that the play would be over-the-top and more commedia dell’arte than drama. This is a piece where it is easy to take the surface meaning, to never delve into the language. Shippobotham gives the entire play time to breathe and allows the words to become stronger than the initial sitcom style would likely be played out. Shippobotham has a deft hand and sees the depth, feels the emotion, and engages the audience along with her.
Though the dialogue flows smoothly, running in and out of rocks and obstacles like water in a creek bed, it is the actors who bring it all to life. Cassandra Stokes-Wylie* (Karla) and Chris DuVal* (Don) handle their roles with the realness this play requires. Stokes-Wylie is both brazen and suffering (her shirt says it all, “If You Sexist Me I Will Feminist You”). Costume Design La Beene captures the impressions of this character perfectly. We know exactly who she is based on her costume. DuVal is angst-ridden and agony-filled. Their chemistry is potent, the two coming together to smash against one another. There are sparks of anger, there are sparks of passion, and there is a friendship that grows in the midst of troubled experience. The actors handle the vicissitudes with clarity, purpose, and, above all, truth. You would be hard-pressed to find more real performers. And they are funny too – as the title implies.
What the text, the director, and the actors bring to the stage is not only moving but hilarious. While we suffer with the characters in their personal pains, we laugh because real life can be humorous even in the midst of misery. Marion Markham* (Marcie) is an absolute delight as Karla’s foibled and dysfunctional matron. Her timing is beautiful. Her ability to go between funny and frustrated is flawless. She’s equal parts vinegar and oil and she makes for a delicious mix of comic and dramatic perfection. Annette Wright (Geena) has a very small role (apart from laying comatose in plain view for most of the show, which is no easy feat). This veteran actress is exactly what the play needs at the very moment it needs it most.
For anyone who has spent long hours in a hospital room, Thomas George (Scenic Design) nailed the feel. There is a slight difference in an oncology ward to a typical hospital floor. They try, like with children’s floors, to brighten it up with different patterns outside of the typical flat beige. I imagine this is because the patients spend so much time there that they want to give it a home-like feel (really, they almost always give the impression of a home for an older woman with a lot of cats). This set was no different. You had what you’d expect: identical hospital beds with identical uncomfortable chairs with those awful wooden arm rests. A duplicate set of trash cans, bed side tables, an endless supply of Dixie cups, the sink that is outside of the bathroom, and, of course, the railing angled to help those who need it to get in and out of the bathroom. I have spent many long hours in hospital rooms and especially in oncology rooms. The striped wall pattern, although loud and brash, felt very typical.
James K. Larsen (Lighting Design) and Cynthia L. Kehr Rees (Sound Design) added exactly what was needed. The lighting and sound did not detract and did not call attention to themselves. It is a mark of a good designer that they can allow the show to work harmoniously. The subtlety of the music choice and the simplicity of the lighting grid did exactly what was needed, they set the stage and helped give insights into the world we lived in for a brief time.
Although not listed in the program, the Assistant Stage Managers and Backstage Crew added another level of realism. They, as is usual, moved the props and dressed the set during transitions. What isn’t common is that these men were in full costume. They worse scrubs and acted as orderlies. We watched them clean beds, take out trash, and just for fun, check vital statistics. This was a clever and diverting way to handle transitions. Like the writing, this became another layer of authenticity.
Chekhov wrote plays that explored the basic humanity of their characters. He meant for the acting to be light, while many productions focus on the hefty themes and lean to the overly-histrionic. Fieffer, Shippobotham, and the talented actors and crew ride that line and do so with the greatest aplomb. They are an improvement on Chekhov because they know how to mix laughter and sorrow. They speak to our contemporary audience. We understand the humor and the horror.
There is a sensitive spot between humor and grief, and in less capable hands this show would come across as something less than, not good or bad but just trite. With this incredible team of artists, the piece comes alive and is grounded in each of us and each of our individual experiences. A Funny Thing is just that: a collection of heartbreakingly funny moments that bring us joy in the fact that we have another day to share with those around us (or to screw up too if that is where life takes us).
Salt Lake Acting Company presents A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Gynecologic Oncology Unit at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center of New York City by Halley Feiffer
168 W 500 N, Salt Lake City, UT 84103
7:30 PM Wednesday – Saturday, 1:00 PM, 6:00 PM Sunday
Additional performances: September 22 2:00 PM, September 25 7:30 PM, October 2 7:30 PM, October 13 2:00 PM
Tickets: $15 – $44. Discounts are available for Student, Senior, and 30 & Under and for groups of 10 or more.
Contact: 801-363-7522
Salt Lake Acting Company Facebook Page
A Funny Thing…Facebook Event
*Member of Actors’ Equity Association, the Union of Professional Actors and Stage Managers in the United States.
Again, this play has a strong R rating. Not recommended for families or those sensitive to language and sexual content.
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