Led by director-star Dan Farbman '01, who conceived the work for his thesis, the actors squeal, shriek, race, jump and beat their way around the Experimental Theater for an entire three acts of farcical comedy. What they end up with is a raunchy, irreverent production that has more enema and penis jokes than a Jim Carrey movie.
The show itself, which opens this Tuesday and runs through Sunday, is a collaborative effort between the actors that both starts and ends with the talented, self-labeled "megalomaniacal steroid-crazed freak" Farbman.
He first started working on the script over the summer of 2000, which he adapted from two translations from the French while injecting his own brand of "nonsense and crudeness." Upon returning to campus in September, Farbman began designing the set, which was eventually built over Interterm by the troupe of actors he assembled.
Rehearsals of the script were, according to Andy Reed '03, "based around improv" and thus allowed the group to become an integrated ensemble that fed off each other's lines and inspirations.
This feeling of integration extends to the audience, which is fluidly and effortlessly incorporated into the performance. This is physically aided by the set, which is primarily composed of a low platform built from unpainted, unvarnished wood, around which three bleachers of seats are closely situated. With such little distinction between stage, floor and audience, the cast easily moves between their world and ours, often leaping into the audience, as well as springing from it.
This type of improvisation depends heavily on the minute-to-minute on-stage chemistry of the cast and audience, which leads to both the play's best and weakest moments. The opening monologue by Farbman works well; he addresses the audience directly, and even singles some of them out, much as a stand-up comedian might warm up his audience.
While Farbman is the most confident with this technique, other actors in the play also employ it at critical moments throughout the play, in some cases walking up to specific audience members to question them, to great effectiveness. At other times (albeit infrequent ones) the lightning-paced arguments between the actors are off-balance, and the punch lines fall flat.
According to cast member Keith Boynton '04, the play has "the same plot as every other 17th century comedy"-namely, a lumberjack (Farbman) is mistakenly recruited by two servants (Reed and Mike Rhoton '02E), who believe he is a genius doctor, to cure their master's daughter (Marni Grambau '04, a veritable little banshee) of her self-induced muteness.
However, even this simple storyline is punctuated by little montages, vaguely reminiscent of an Animaniacs interlude, which are entirely unrelated to the narrative and are hindered only by the lack of street organ music to accompany the pantomime.
Additional narrative chaos is provided by the master (Tristan Jeffers '03, displaying a disturbingly mobile face), the lumberjack's wife (Honora MacNaughton '03, whose accent ranges from Cockney to pseudo-posh), the daughter's nurse (Erica Pollack '02, with the strut of Jessica Rabbit and the voice of a Pink Lady from "Grease") and the daughter's lover (Joe Rachiele '04, who pulls off a boyish 'aw shucks' demeanor that leads to several of the "Doctor"'s best moments).
Subtley is not "Doctor"'s strong suit, as reflected by Rhoton's extravagant gestures as he blusters through the play in an Irish accent. However, his antics are among the tamer elements, given Farbman's goal of "a kind of group orgasm of laughter."
The cast throw themselves unabashedly forward, liberally dishing out the phallic references, fart jokes and a literal slap-stick, an instrument whose loud clap constantly echoes throughout the theatre. This potluck of elements is quite often hilarious despite (or perhaps because of) its crudity. The play is unpretentious, self-referentially funny, and frequently completely gross.
"Hopefully," Farbman said, "[the play] inspires a kind of childlike joy. Maybe it just inspires disgust. We hope for joy and laughter, but we'll take the disgust."
NOTE: Preview is based on a rehearsal which took place on Feb. 5. As a work-in-progress, the version presented to the public may differ somewhat.