'Bette and Boo' a fun, dysfunctional family circus

By Aaron Zamost

If you're in the mood to admire the virtue of wedlock, don't see The Marriage of Bette and Boo, this year's Freshperson Show. Christopher Durang's play seems like a cross between Father of the Bride and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, and is a wedding unlike any other in the history of entertainment. The annual show, which is completely acted, staffed, and produced by freshmen, grabs you in its initial scene and doesn't let go until you finally fear marriage more than you fear public speaking. If you want to feel better about your own dysfunctional family, this is the play for you.

Kyle Jarrow, SM '01, plays Matt, the narrator of the play and the unfortunate son of Boo Hudlocke and Bette Brennan. Due to either Matt's biased memory of his early life, or genuine familial idiocy, his relatives appear to be completely insane.

Abby Ranger, TC '01, is Bette, an innocent, senseless woman who hears only what she wants to but says anything that comes to mind. With her new husband Boo (Alex Timbers, ES '01), she embarks on a quasi-romantic journey through newlywed life. The couple appears perfectly paired, as neither Bette nor Boo is mature enough to deal with the trials of married existence.

As the play unfolds, Matt recounts nearly 30 years of family history, beginning with the storybook wedding of his parents. As their relationship continues, however, Bette and Boo's unfulfilled romantic expectations force the family into turmoil, as alcoholism, spousal abuse (don't worry--it's amusing), and even infant death plague the otherwise cheery group of individuals. Certainly, nothing is sacred in The Marriage of Bette and Boo, as the characters mock everything from Catholic Mass to mental patients.

The precept "life goes on" doesn't seem suitable for most of the play. The characters endure multiple tragedies, most of which involve deaths in the family, but they simply ignore their misfortunes with bucketloads of naïve immaturity. Although we learn that Matt is the only surviving child in five attempts by his parents, family members seem apathetic and oblivious to him, jeering the ethics of the medical profession and chastising political correctness.

At one point, Bette's mother Margaret (Amanda Poppei, CC '01) scolds her husband Paul for choking on a slice of birthday cake. A stroke-ridden Paul, portrayed by a perfectly-slurring James Bickford, DC '01, gags and dies. His daughter Emily (Lisa Rabie, BK '01) eventually blames herself, attributing her father's death to her failure to become a nun.

Naturally, it's difficult to say whether Marriage is a comedic drama or a dramatic comedy. The only major obstacle the play strives to overcome is its black-comedy philosophy, which poses moral dilemmas for members of the audience.

Boo's father Karl, exceptionally portrayed by George Cederquist, SM '01, attempts to baptize Bette's unborn child by pouring booze on her stomach. I found the scene outright hilarious, but still wasn't quite sure whether or not laughter was entirely appropriate. In fact, Cederquist produces most of the play's sadistic amusement, with deadpan delivery of lines such as: "My wife is the dumbest woman alive" and the employment of a lit cigar as "a dicky." Karl's wife Soot, played by Desiree Burch, TD '01, is the other half of Boo's chaotic parental duo, notable for her Betty Rubble giggle and unheeded stupidity.

It's not difficult to see why I found laughing so improper at times. I could only assume, however, that it's expected, since half of the scenes are so unbelievably ridiculous and bizarre that audience members are almost forced into fits of nervous hysteria.

Ranger's transition from Winnie the Pooh narration to childbirth is especially superb, as is the impressive volume of her voice during the screaming fits she has with her Greek-hating sister (Julia Kots, TC '01). Scott Hoffer's, ES '01, portrayal of a depraved priest and an insensitive family doctor is far overshadowed by his skilled imitation of a breakfast of simmering bacon and brewing coffee.

Bet your friends that your extended family is more insane than this one and you're bound to lose a lot of money. The performances of Cederquist and Ranger are reason enough to see the play, and they compensate for a fairly drawn-out second act. The cast works especially well together, and provides solid entertainment for 135 minutes. Marriage is chaos theory in action, and might even provide therapy for your own suddenly not-so-dysfunctional family.

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