|
Variety
L.A. Stage Co. By Edwa. |
|
|
There may be only 20 residents in the town of Tuna, Tex., and only two actors in the Karl Allison and Bryan Bantry production of "Greater Tuna," which bowed Wednesday at L.A. Stage Co.
But Jaston Williams and Joe Sears, actors who also cowrote with Ed Howard (who directs), create the entire panorama of Texas' third smallest town and all its most intimate secrets, scandals, triumphs and foibles. Kind of a small-scale Peyton Place with a bigoted accent.
And bigoted they are, so bigoted that when the local theatre group decided to do an integrated version of "My Fair Lady" (using last year's "South Pacific" sets because of lack of funds) they have to put out a special call for a black actor.
And the Smut Snatchers of the New Order is relentless in its drive to have certain words excised from every dictionary in town. The Judge even has the reputation for ordering more hangings during a certain period than any other town in Texas. But he gets his from Stanley Bumiller, whom he sent to reform school for painting on street signs. Did Stanley really shoot the stroke-stricken judge full of air bubbles?
Stanley's Aunt Pearl Burras might have been in love with the judge at one time, but when she views the body at the funeral parlor, the real truth comes out. Williams also makes Charlene Bumiller's tragedy of not being selected cheerleader end-of-the-world time.
And Petey Fisk, local dogcatcher, can't bring himself to mercy kill a stray - when he sees the happy wagging tail. It's easier to palm the animal off on little Jody Bumiller, who says the pup "followed him home", when he explains to mother Bertha Bumiller, who's already got a pack of eight in the backyard.
But Bertha's heart is as big as Texas; and she knows how to suffer, and raise three kids. That's the family around which most of the play's "action" takes place, along with radio station OKKK, where country-western music and local news broadcasts seem to make up the station's entire format. The local football team considers it a close game with it's beaten 48-0 by the other team.
Williams and Sears portray all these characters (and more) as easily as a chameleon changes colors. One moment Sears is Bertha and the next he's Sheriff Givens wanting to know what Stanley Bumiller is doing with an empty syringe in his glove compartment.
Williams plays all the Bumiller kids, and in a flash he's Vera Carp, shedding crocodile tears over the Judge's corpse, or Arles Struvie, who's lost all the news copy at the radio station.
Tuna is redneck America, and it's as clever as it is entertaining. Williams and Sears do remarkable things with downhome stuff which often becomes hilarious.
Kevin Rupnik's set is simple and well-executed; Judy Rasmuson's lighting, excellent, and Linda Fisher's costumes, remarkable.
Show is sort of a "Spoon River Anthology" with a Texas drawl, and it should be a popular bill of fare for L.A. Stage Co., where it's in for a limited run through June 10.
|
