Playwright mocks theater in namesake play

It seems Christopher Durang, DRA '74, has stamped his name all over the theater world. In three short, punchy pieces collectively titled Durang Durang Durang, his self-referential play delivers an insider's farce of drama and its trademark personality: loud, self-absorbed, and endearingly funny. Although they approach parody from different angles, each of Durang's plays jabs at a medium he knows all too well; from the ardent theater-goer to the outlandish performer and eminent playwright, his targets are unmistakable.

The audience is first introduced to Mrs. Sorken, a kind of maitre'd for the evening. As a middle-aged lady giving an informal speech on the theater, Susan Finque performs this monologue in a chit-chatty, somewhat rambling style. The speech itself is structured by etymology; seeking to find and define meaning in the theater, Mrs. Sorken begins by tracking the word itself. As her train of thought accelerates in all directions, she traces words back and forth and into each other in an effort to create a metaphor for drama, somehow arriving finally at "photosynthesis." At times, it seems that Finque would win more laughs if she played up the ridiculousness of her reasoning a bit more, since her wordplay stretches a little thin. But Mrs. Sorken does arrive at certain fundamental maxims of the typical theatergoer, such as, "If it's hot and if I have to pay, I don't much like Shakespeare." Although surely this play would not hold up as well on its own, Mrs. Sorken's monologue serves as an entertaining preamble to the plays that follow, making them somewhat more cohesive.

The next hostess to crash the stage is not quite so charming. As Naomi, Marnye Young forces guests to serve as her audience in the "conversation pit" of her living room. Naomi in the Living Room is somewhat akin to an extroverted actor on speed: during the course of this scene, Naomi's wild proclamations sweep from "I'm a big personality" to "I'm a psychotic." Young appears oddly youthful for this role as the mother of John (Jason Linder, DRA '02). But this is partially because costume designer Tiziana Mazziotto, DRA '02, has outfitted her in a wild gown, bright pink glasses, and wild hair. It's a fitting choice, accentuating her claim on the attention of both her audiences.

Naomi's self-centered narcissism is both intense and insane; while she mocks the "personal tragedies" of others, she revels in her own eccentricity. Since the living room is for living and the bathroom is for bathing, Naomi reasons to her guests that the kitchen is for kitsch, "seriously designed but with ludicrously corny artifacts." This might also refer to Naomi herself, a colorful and ridiculous character who doesn't serve any practical purpose. While her Tourette's-like outbursts are not particularly well-received, Naomi occasionally wins laughs from the audience when her self-awareness surfaces. In one such moment, Naomi is enraptured by Johnna's frenzied imitation of her own dramatic mood swings. Suddenly, Young's expression flips to dismissal: "Very phony. I don't believe you for a minute." The difference here is that Johnna appears to be a moderate exhibitionist weirdo: "I want to be noticed, but I don't want to be considered insane."

Another overbearing mother-figure takes the stage in For Whom the Southern Belle Tolls, but Amanda (Bridget Flanery) follows in different footsteps. In this play, Durang parodies the Tennessee Williams classicThe Glass Menagerie, replacing the hesitant Laura with his more annoying hypochondriac Lawrence. Suffering from a rather unconvincing limp, as well as asthma and rashes, Lawrence devotes himself entirely to caring for his collection of glass cocktail stirrers ("string bean," "Q-tip," and "thermometer," to name a few). His mother Amanda and brother Tom (Casey Reitz, DRA'03) are somewhat less sympathetic than their namesakes in Williams' play: "We should have you institutionalized," Tom tells Lawrence.

While Durang's modern Williams family appears more honest and open, it is also much more self-centered and just as unhappy. This last spoof is the funniest play of the three, but its effect is somewhat tainted by the previous play. A problem with following the character of Naomi with Amanda is that the setup is too similar; again we are presented with a domineering female personality and a cowering younger couple.

Yet such grievances are minor—the most striking similarity of Durang's plays is one of his wittiest features: sometimes crafty, sometimes showy, he always nails what is most irritating about the theater, and also reminds us of what we like best about it.

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