Dark play made some uncomfortable

By Kari Quill

“How far do your memories go back?” Lemon (Paige Pulaski) asked the audience of Wallace Shawn’s 1985 dark play, "Aunt Dan and Lemon."

Instantly, this frumpy, sickly woman had me uncomfortable with her constant intentional eye twitching and head nodding. The rhetorical questions she asked from her lemon-colored armchair quickly merited a response from me. Although I refrained, I wanted nothing more than to tell her that her explicit approval of the German Nazis was unsettling. Following this conviction was her admission that she would be “fine with dying,” after a life spent almost entirely void of human interaction.

Eventually, I realized Shawn, a playwright notorious for provoking controversial arguments, had mastered the opening scene with Lemon’s contestable monologue. Anxious to hear how the protagonist would support her beliefs cemented by her unproductive life, my ears were fully attuned to the University of Georgia student production.

After Lemon’s lecture, I was grateful for the introduction of a new character named Freddie (Matthew Bowdren), the father of Lemon. His wit and strident voice awakened the audience as he shouted about the Darwin characteristics of the working class in the 1960s. Once he finished his rant, the execution of the play became obvious: flashbacks that don’t pertain to a plot. Luckily, not every character is as abrasive as Lemon’s father, whom Lemon says resembles “a caged animal” after overhearing a quarrel between him and her passive mother (Chelsey Horn).

While the play continues with limited props and lengthy monologues, some redeeming qualities emerge. I am stunned by the consistency of the casts’ English accents combined with their memorization skills. Most engrossing are Aunt Dan’s stories she recites to her 11-year-old worshipper, Lemon.

As one of the two American-born characters in the play, Dan is equally as captivating with her American accent as she recounts her trysts in London and obsessions with Henry Kissinger and public policy. While her parents are oblivious to the intimate relationship between Lemon and Aunt Dan, her father’s best friend, Lemon tells us: “[My parents] had me, but I only had Aunt Dan.”

It seemed that each time members of the audience yawned during a speech, at least one of the characters started to undress, regaining their attention. Mindy (Spencer Tootle), the money-hungry call girl, demands attentiveness from every male member in the audience as she struts around in lingerie. However, it was the unexpected bloodshed that regained my interest an hour and a half into the performance.

The beastliness Lemon claims to be innate in every human proves to be a major theme of the play. Some characters reveal this trait through action while others only vocalize it. As Lemon gleefully preaches with pursed lips, her brutish opinions resonate with the audience. The similarities she draws between civilized people and the Nazis are enough to elicit a response from an individual only vaguely aware of the unjust treatment of Jews during World War II.

As she sat drinking her daily supplement of lime and celery juice, I couldn’t help but equate the liquid to her slimy personality. Her admiration for the “truthful” Nazis, whom also lacked compassion, elicited my firm rebuttal. This in mind, I commend the show and its talented cast, but wouldn’t consider a second viewing.

Even now I wonder how Lemon sat confident and comfortable in her armchair as I squirmed in mine, noticing that she never missed a blink.