Review: How to Be the Perfect Housewife

by Michael Block

People do strange things when they experience tragedy. Even finding solace to accommodate loneliness leads to drastic paths. A desperate househusband strays while his wife is away on business. He meets a woman. Has an affair. Tells his wife. And suddenly the pair find themselves in Texas where the wife enrolls in a training facility where she learns how to be the proper housewife. That's how things begin in Anna Moench's In Quietness.
Presented by Dutch Kill Theater, In Quietness is a tragic story of a fading marriage and the steps the pair take to repair the cracks all while finding themselves. Gender roles are put on blast through the lens of religious expectancies. Moench takes a pair of strained New Yorkers and transports them to Texas where Paul attends Seminary school while Maxine serves as the welcoming committee at Homemaking House, living in a home in progress where impressionable girls are days away from learning how to be the perfect housewife. On their journey, we meet the matron of the right Terri and Maxine's do-right bunk buddy Beth. Moench's concept is poignant and a vital story. The ideas and themes that Moench presents are filled with much potential. But the final product she offers could use some clarity. No matter what, this story is Maxine's. It's truly her journey. Yet Moench bookends her script with monologues from husband Paul. And that's problematic in its own right. When it comes to Paul, with how and what we learn it, he's doomed. Right from the start there's no hope of salvation for Paul. He’s flawed. And lacks amiability. With an instantly unlikeable character, it sets up Max for victory, even if she too, is flawed. Regardless of this, if Max is in control of the piece, allowing her to lead in and out of the play could work to the play’s advantage. Moench establishes the first few scenes to serve as active exposition. At the peak of Paul and Max’s turmoil, Moench sends them to Texas to join a religious sect. But what was the cause of this move and why, are these two trying to repair their marriage, especially after the battle we previously saw? The explanation is strong but we spend an exuberant amount of time until we learn exactly why. Moench relies on anticipation but perhaps clueing in with more subtle hints would work to the story arch’s advantage. And that story that Moench has penned is something titillating. Whatever your views, the themes Moench addresses are significant, delicately placed in a character-driven drama. The dynamic between the three varying women is what drives the play to the finish line.
Kate MacCluggage is truly the centerpiece of In Quietness. She is a catalyst for nearly every character. MacCluggage offers a grounded performance, strong and balanced. You can see the fight in her, even though you may not understand Max’s desire to fight. As her strayed but found the light husband Paul, Blake DeLong does everything in his power to make you like him. And that allows a glimmer of hope for his renewal. But no matter what DeLong does, liking Paul is no easy feat. Lucy DeVito’s Beth is something unique. DeVito is able to play upon Beth’s secret by keeping a guarded disposition. And when Beth reaches her breaking point, DeVito is at her finest. In Quietness needed some comedic charm and Alley Scott delivers. Scott plays the quintessential Southern Belle that smiles through the vile she spews. There’s a tenacity to Terri that makes you love her and strive to stay on her good side. Scott is the perfect person to be the leader of the Stepford Zombies. In almost a cameo role, Rory Kulz as Dusty defies the image of what you thought Dusty would be. Moench has Beth set Dusty up as this monster and Kulz’s Dusty is anything but. Is he suited for marriage? Likely not but Kulz manages to bring a bit of shock to the stage through his take on the character.

photo by Christopher Genovese

Guiding this play was Danya Taymor. Taymor’s direction was solid when it came to focusing on the characters and their relationships to the world and one another. With a fluid staging, there was little dead space between beats. By having a unified connection with lights and sound, sound designer Asa Wember and lighting designers Masha Tsimring and Caitlin Smith Rapoport brought a take charge approach to the movement of the story. The lighting duo created some stunning stage pictures through light, especially in the night scenes. Wember’s quick percussive sound was exactly what the play needed. And Wember gets a win for the preshow song selection of Southern inspired country and gospel including Marin Morris’ “My Church”. On point? Yes. But that’s what made it work. With the lights and sound being so strong, there had to be one caveat. And that came in the form of the scenic design by Kristen Robinson. Here’s the struggle. As you walk into Walkerspace, you see this church-like set with a window to the heavens and a warm circular light cast centerstage. It’s an ominously hopeful picture. But when the lights truly rise to full, the true nature of the set is revealed. Yes, the house the characters live in is supposed to be unfinished but it didn’t read that way. It set read as seemingly untreated. And it’s unfortunate. While the construction of the set may also have been a bit wonky, the aesthetic felt unintentionally unfinished. Moench’s script makes reference to a field trip to Ikea by Pau and Terri. It’s a cute scene. And it makes sense that nearly all of the limited furniture used is Ikea items. It’s a bit tongue in cheek, I suppose. Especialy when you recognize the white chairs from your own home.
Anna Moench and Dutch Kills Theater have potential on their hands. This play could be powerful. But it just didn’t reach the great expectations. There were many missed moments in execution. Nevertheless, In Quietness is a play to keep on your radar.

Review: Oh the Horror!

It takes bravery to take a risk. Especially in theater. Sometimes that one risk you take can alter an entire production. Such is the case in Pipeline Theatre Company's The Gray Man by Andrew Farmer. But more on that later.
The Gray Man is a haunting ghost story about a man named Simon as he navigates reality and perception. Following the death of his mother and a string of child disappearances, Simon sets out to regain control all while remembering the story of a boogeyman type character who tempts and lures children from their home. What The Gray Man does flawlessly is great storytelling. Farmer is sharp by allowing the story to unravel through bits and pieces. What Farmer and director Andrew Neisler do well is play upon our greatest fears. Haunting and scaring an audience takes expert precision and their collaboration did just that. But in a live theatrical piece, sensory trucks are just as important. Darkness is a great fear. And depriving the audience of seeing was brilliant. The live music soundscape was vivid and necessary to get inside the audiences head. Playing with echoes and vibrations allowed the harsh reality of darkness settle in. But when darkness was abandoned for light once again, the audience needed to see the fear that they projected. And that's where that huge risk comes in.

photo by Suzi Sadler

There's a line from The Producers where Max Bialystock boasts about being the man who invented theater in the square where nobody had a good seat. And it's even more so true with a rectangle. But the biggest risk The Gray Man made was made was placing a giant scenic piece smack dab in the middle of the stage. The giant structure by Andy Yanni was stunningly crafted but it caused some massive issue. To say The Gray Man had horrid site line problems is a severe understatement. Depending on your seat, it's quite possible you missed key parts of the show. Whether it was character interactions, sudden appearances, or a scenic transformation, complete visibility was nonexistent. It was a giant risk that Neisler and Yanni took and sadly it hurt the overall production. While it felt immersive, it was just an intimate experience. Finding a way to share this vision in a three quarter thrust with the centerpiece toward the back, the payoff could have been grander. You may have been able to see everything you were intended to see. Regardless, the intent was bold and you have to commend the team for taking a giant risk.
Capable storytellers were brought together to bring this tale to life. As the perpetually fearful Simon, Daniel Johnsen captured the essence of mystery. By playing scared and weary, he allowed the audience to tag along on his journey. As the curious best friend John, Shane Zeigler found a way into Simon's psyche. Katharine Lorraine and Claire Rothrock took on the dual roles of maternal storyteller and neighborly comic relief. Both Lorraine and Rothrock happened to be wonderful reciters of fear. As Simon's neighbor and confidant Grace, Tahlia Ellie was youth on display.
When it comes to engaging the audience, Neisler succeeded. The goal was to spook the audience and he did just that. As previously stated, Neisler focused deeply on senses and it was a fascinating psychological experiment. Lighting designer Christopher Bowser capitalized on the use of light and lack there of. During the darkness montage, Bowser and Neisler allowed the company to navigate the stage safely, bringing the story all around the space. As a transformation occurred, the space filled with fog and when Bowser brought the lights up, the throw of the light cast seemed to play tricks on your mind. These snapshots were short and forced the audience to quickly find the voice and the light.
The Gray Man is a winning production when it comes to distinctive storytelling. There is nothing more exciting that knowing you’re about to be scared and attempting to prepare yourself for it. But that set! It’s unfortunate that an experience could be altered by one giant element.