Houston Chronicle
Performance: Houston, TX
01-Nov-90

Sid Caesar played seven in Neil Simon's Little Me.

But in the annals of the multirole theatrical tour de force, reserve a special niche for Joe Sears and Jaston Williams. In Greater Tuna, the versatile writer/actors created more than 20 roles between them – a whole townful of colorful eccentrics representing a tiny but volatile Texas hamlet.

Now, Sears and Williams are back in A Tuna Christmas, the droll holiday sequel that opened Tuesday at Wortham Center's Cullen Theater. Most of the original Tuna personalities return, along with a few newcomers, facing new Tuna perils of the Yuletide season.

Smoothly directed by co-author Ed Howard, A Tuna Christmas takes full advantage of its central theatrical device. Half the fun comes in relishing the resourcefulness with which the two actors portray their 22 characters, most of them re-appearing several times in the course of the action.

Rather than relying on broad comic shtick, Sears and Williams make shrewd acting choices of inflection and delivery, posture and body language. These combine effectively with the quick-change accoutrements of costumes and wigs to differentiate the many characters neatly.

Sears scores especially well as the defeated yet dignified housewife Bertha Bumiller, the dumpily ineffectual UFO-spotter R.R. Snavely. Beleaguered community theater director Joe Bob Lipsey, and Aunt Pearl Burrus, who combines kindliness with a primal mean streak.

Williams registers indelibly as used weapons merchant Didi Snavely, placid radio broadcaster Arles Struvie, snippy town socialite Vera Carp, meek animal advocate Petey Fisk, waitress/wild woman Helen Bedd and Bertha Bumiller's three troubled offspring.

Some scenes find both actors changing characters frequently as they alternate their time onstage. But most key sequences keep one character onstage, allowing for greater development, while the other actor plays multiple characters interacting with the central figure. Williams' Didi Snavely, for instance, encounters Sears as various customers who enter her used weapons store. Or Sears' Bertha Bumiller calls in Williams as each of her three disturbed kids.

The writing winks slyly at this technique, as when Bertha laments that she can’t get her three kids together for a Christmas photo.

But as well as the multirole device works, Tuna Christmas doesn’t rely on it exclusively. Nor does the show lean only upon Texas humor, which is one reason the Tuna outings are just as engaging for those with no particularly affection for stage Texana.

The writing not only makes us laugh but also reveals the definite point of view that is a prerequisite of effective satire. Indeed, the proceedings become positively Swiftian at times. Some will see this quality as a nasty streak. But most will admit it's the ring of truth that gives Tuna its validity.

Promoting her "Peace on Earth" used weapons sale, Didi warns of the threat of holiday burglaries: "Wouldn’t you rather shoot someone than have him run off with your new toaster?"

The authors encapsulate both the root and the futility of holiday nostalgia in Aunt Pearl's laments "Christmas used to be about family – of course, that's when I could stand to be around my family!"

Tuna Christmas offers enough narrative continuity to string the scenes together as a coherent whole. The travails of the Bumiller clan form the dramatic center, with suspense provided by the effort to identify Tuna's "Christmas Phantom," who annually destroys the holiday yard displays.

The authors also come up with some clever visual surprises for the second act. And there are satisfying conclusions for hassled mom Bertha and her ex-con son Stanley, who get a reprieve of sorts from the No Exit realm of Tuna. Asked what he wants from Santa, Stanley replies, "A bus ticket out of this black hole."

It's early in the holiday season, but Houston audiences already have one theatrical Christmas present that won't disappoint. A Tuna Christmas delivers a stockingful of laughs.