Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Comedy and drama coexist in 'Dearly Departed'





By Colin Frawley

It’s asking a lot of a play to expect both humor and pathos in equal measure. In “Dearly Departed,” the Black Theatre Ensemble’s latest production, director Kelundra Smith often strikes a balance between the two notions, stumbling only when tears and titters seem to be vying for supremacy within the same scene. “Dearly Departed” is entertaining and compelling from end to end, but it would benefit from a couple tweaks aimed at establishing a firmer tonal center.

The play begins at the breakfast table with the death of Bud, who, based on the exposition we receive later, is your classic grumpy, gruff patriarch who insists on doing things his own way. After Bud meets his maker face-first in a plate of eggs, his surviving family members are forced to — God forbid — spend some time together and plan a proper burial for their dearly departed.

The catalysts of the operation are Bud’s responsible son, Ray (Dane Alejandro, who also plays Bud in the opening scene), and Bud’s resolute widow, Raynelle (Lauren Rice). Everyone else — Bud’s penniless, philandering other son, Junior; his fundamentalist Christian sister, Marguerite; as well as a cast of cantankerous in-laws — seems to be too wrapped up in other pursuits to lend much help. Despite being an ensemble-driven number, "Dearly Departed" ultimately privileges Ray’s side of the struggle, sympathizing with his frustration over anyone else’s.

It’s too bad, then, that Alejandro was one of the weaker elements of the cast. His character was well-written, displaying a believable mixture of sparring emotions, but more so than anyone else on stage, Alejandro came across like he was reciting lines instead of interacting with fellow human beings. He’s only a sophomore at the University Georgia, so I hope persistence pays off and we see him churning out better and better performances as time goes on.

The rest of the cast was at least adequate, and in some cases, remarkable. Most notably, Elliot Dixon floored me in the roles of the Rev. Hooker, Clyde the mechanic and, most charmingly of all, Norval the contented invalid. Dixon took the lead in all his scenes without ever appearing starved for attention. In the hands of a less considerate actor, the role of the Rev. Hooker could easily have fallen into the trap of the fire-and-brimstone caricature; instead, Dixon imbued the Reverend with a prudent, articulate demeanor that made him one of the most sympathetic characters on stage.

I began by discussing the play’s tone, and I think both the writers (David Bottrell and Jessie Jones) and director deserve credit for maintaining a fairly consistent balance throughout the two hour-plus narrative. After a couple scenes, it started to become clear that each somber passage would soon be followed by a moment of comic relief — and many of them killed it. One woman in my row stomped the floor in laughter so many times I was tempted to ask her when she was supposed to get to China.

In any event, the one-two, sad-funny formula worked for the most part, helping reinforce the multi-faceted nature of certain characters while keeping things breezy for the audience. But as I mentioned earlier, there were a couple sticky moments where strong emotion was undermined by an inappropriate joke that simply fell flat (see, for instance, a funeral scene toward the end in which one character sits munching on an ice cream bar in the foreground while everyone else grieves and says their goodbyes to Bud).

“Dearly Departed” worked for me, thanks to generally solid acting and a plot that tied up neatly at the end. Still, there were some odd inconsistencies that threw the vibes in the Morton Theatre into a strange flux. While I applaud the attempt at variety, some slight directorial adjustments would go a long way toward getting the play’s incompatible feelings out of each other’s hair. Comedy and drama are not mutually exclusive, but things can get awfully messy when they start stealing each other’s lines.

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