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Reviews Greater Tuna Reviewed by Sherry Deatrick Entire contents are copyright © 2009 Sherry Deatrick. All rights reserved.
Actors Theatre usually presents A Tuna Christmas this time of year, when Christmas plays are as plentiful as the seeds of a pomegranate. This year, they're going back to the beginning of this long-running series of plays about small-minded Texans who populate the fictional town of Tuna. Yes, this is the one that started it all. While it's not as funny as the holiday play, it still provides enough guffaws to please even the most sour of sourpusses. Greater Tuna is older than dirt, and you can read about its history here if you're so inclined. Offstage events of the opening night show (November 19) were pretty bizarre for me personally, however. Normally, I don't like to talk about myself in reviews because you're not here to read about me, but I just can't resist this time. (One of my USC fellowship instructors excoriated the "vertical pronoun" in criticism, so I'm wary of its use.) I sat two seats away from director Marc Masterson, and overheard an interesting conversation he had with his companion. I'm afraid I can't divulge it for reasons of national security. Sorry. Let's just say it involves magic acts and the 1930s. Then, at intermission, a suave and debonair man approached me outside the theater where I went to smoke (nasty habit, I know). He's a set-builder for Actors. As he introduced himself, he said "My name is Pierre. I'm French-Canadian." Something clicked. I know a man named Pierre who is French-Canadian. Could it be he? Amazingly, he was the same Pierre who was married to an old friend of mine who appeared on the Howard Stern special "New Year's Rotten Eve." Soon, it was last call for Act Two, so we scurried back inside, only to find that our seats were right next to each other (on the other side of Masterson's). It's probably a good thing I didn't have the chance to remind Pierre of how we met, since he was with a date.
Well, I'm sure you're dying to know about the show by now. Tuna, Texas is populated by gun-toting bigots, for the most part. The play is a bunch of skits loosely linked by a radio broadcast from station OKKK (get it?) and all the characters are played by two actors. One man is big and tall (Morgan Lund) and the other is short and squat (Brad DePlanche). DePlanche was in four of Actors' productions of the perennial favorite, A Tuna Christmas, so he's got the characters and the quick costume changes down pat. (He has more costume changes than Lund, who remains onstage longer.) LaPlanche's Petey Fisk scenes became tiresome after continued repetition throughout the show. Whiny-voiced Fisk, wearing a button-covered vest, spectacles, and a blonde fright wig, is constantly popping up to publicize the local Humane Society. DePlanche's portrayals of high school senior Charlene Bumiller and supercilious Vera Carp are the most memorable of the 20 roles he handles. Charlene, clad always in green and purple, recites a hilarious poem on OKKK, a paean to her hometown, called "O My Tuna," which she pronounces "Omatyuna" as if it were one word. Vera Karp, dressed in a "chic" two-piece yellow and black skirt suit with matching spectator pumps and a blonde Palin-esque hair "bump," epitomizes the holier-than-thou redneck woman to a "T." She struts like a banty hen while straightening chairs and tables between scenes. LaPlanche's Stanley Bumiller (Charlene's brother) is such an accurate representation of a heavy metal "dude" that his skits are less comedic than terrifying, especially when he confronts the dead judge (a scene that lasts too long with no real laughs). His young Jody Bumiller, who's addicted to dogs, is cute. Too cute, what with the babified voice and footed pajamas. Morgan Lund has some of the juiciest roles, including Bertha Bumiller, the long-suffering housewife and tender-hearted mother who's on the book snatching squad (committed to eradicating smut). The evening favorite was Pearl Burras, however. She's the elderly dog-killing aunt who dances a jig around the dead judge. On opening night, Pearl's pratfall appeared to be real, when she fell onto a chair that gave way, losing her wig in the process. An audience member had to help Lund to his feet. If this was intentional, then it was very well done. If not, then the opening night crowd got an extra laugh. Lund's female characters are unforgettable, much like Divine's larger-than-life women. His male characters, like the radio host Thurston Wheelis, are down-home good ol' boys with possum eatin' grins (sneers?) just like our former President and ersatz "Texan." The set is simply two tables with Texas flags painted on them, and each table has two chairs. The Texas flag is projected onto the stage floor as well, just so you know where you're at. Overhead is an "on-air" sign that doubles as a UFO. The microphones were a little too loud when the men were "on the air," but the radio show was more realistic when it was coming over the radio in Bertha's kitchen. A Tuna Christmas was in the Victor Jory theatre when I saw it, and had a much more intimate feeling than Greater Tuna, which is in the Bingham. Here, the distance serves to keep the audience from connecting with the characters (even though the actors interact often with audience members). This show is no heavyweight (despite the obese characters). If you like lowbrow humor and slapstick, you will probably enjoy this show, especially if you are with a companion. I found myself laughing louder during the second act, after I realized I was sitting among friends.
Sunday–Thursday: $33 Friday & Saturday: $41
Starring Brad DePlanche and Morgan Lund
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