In any case, "Zora's Barbeque," her original piece that will serve as her senior thesis for the department of theater and dance, is a lot like Brownell herself: a little spastic, a little quirky and a lot loveable. Certainly no stranger to funny business (she's been a member of the College's improv group, Mr. Gad's, since she was a first-year), Brownell has chosen to take her talent for wit and sarcasm and forge a different road through the yellow wood of Amherst College theater. Brownell has crafted a charming piece about an inane, self-involved therapist who might do well to have her own noggin shrunk. Working closely with Connie Congdon in the department of theater and dance, Brownell found herself immersed in a remarkable opportunity to write her own script with a bushel of help from a talented cast and crew. "[The department finds] you a director, they get you a cast, designers, etc. So it's kind of an opportunity that you can't pass up," she commented.
Here are the Cliff Notes, for those of you who haven't heard anything about it yet: Zora (named, Brownell says, after Joe Millionaire's bride of choice), the lead barrel of monkeys in this, well, larger barrel of monkeys, is a somewhat unconventional therapist with a penchant for speaking to inanimate objects (read: telephone, pen, lampshade, etc.). If you overlook all of the crazy talk to office supplies, she's a pretty regular gal: Her daughter gives her all kinds of shit, her friend Mr. Pen gives her the silent treatment and she's driven by a singular vision that every consummate hostess and caring therapist must aspire to: to throw a big blowout barbeque featuring all of her clientele. Okay, so I lied about the regular gal stuff, but really, we've all got problems.
That's one of the most refreshing things about Brownell's writing-in "Zora's," no one escapes the too oft-overlooked observation that everybody is dealing with something. "I guess being at Amherst-drawing characters that are more nutcases than the people that you're surrounded by-makes it easier to deal with what you're facing," explained Brownell. "When I had shit going on, [it was] really nice to be able to create this world where yes, everyone is a little off but everyone is really happy being themselves too, which is what I try to get across. Zora is really in her own world but she's happy being herself," said Brownell. For this alone, our playwright deserves applause; particularly within the framework of Amherst College, wherein some bizarre logic allows whoever has the loudest voice to be the only one with work, with a messy love life, with a general disgust for Valentine, with frozen hands (yo-we all walk through the same weather so you can just stop pretending that it's colder for you than it is for the next person), we tend to forget that we're all just a little (or a lot) fucked up.
And you know what? As much as we all tend to take ourselves way too seriously, we should just give it up-throw up our hands and admit that no matter how loudly we proclaim that we don't need no more drama, it's kind of fun. Brownell is the first to admit it. "I kind of said right away that I don't want to do something that's intensely personal or serious-I want to do something fun. Because a lot of the stuff that goes on goes over my head and I kind of like seeing comedy and writing comedy," she said.
If you do one thing for your sanity next weekend, I suggest you schedule yourself an appointment for "Zora's Barbeque." There promises to be loads of twister, sex, laughs and characters just as messed up as you are. You never know, you might learn a thing or two-or at least pick up a few helpful hints on which household items make the best bedfellows. Fire up the grill, kiss the cook, come to Kirby and get just what the doctor ordered.
"Zora's Barbeque" will be playing Feb. 12-14 at 8 p.m. in Kirby Theater. Tickets are free and can be reserved at 542-2277.