In his program note, the artistic director says he needs for The Players “to be the place for EVERYONE (sic)... Sometimes that means taking a chance, and Sordid Livesis it!” Nice try. Not so nice outcome. Warning: the play is a campy cult relic from a decade ago. It concerns an extended family reunion to be at wake and funeral of matriarch Mama. She died in a motel tripping over the wooden leg of her younger lover.
Other than Rita Mazer’s Bitsy, a singing setter of scenes, there isn’t a normal character. Nancy Denton and Lynne Doyle respectively play Mama’s hard to believe daughters -- a half of a Thelma-and-Louise partnership and the would-be angry socialite who’s organizing the affair. Kristi Hibschman does a tolerable job as the sniffling young (or badly made-up) sister of the deceased, whose attempt to quit smoking is supposed to be comically suspenseful.
Likeable Camilo Bustos keeps talking to the audience about why he doesn’t want to go to his grandma’s funeral. Ty’s gay, and from the get-go the idea of being gay and all right is where the whole show goes. The best it reaches is over-the-top Earl “Brother Boy” who’s been decades in psychiatric care of people (notably the grotesquely unprofessional Dr. Bolinger, bared by Ruth Shaulis) trying to turn him heterosexual.
Eric Berkel excels as the pink-peignoired, Shirley Temple-wigged Earl, who, in his blackest, turns out to be the purest relative to mourn the deceased.
The whole cast tries hard to hold the audience’s interest, but I’ve never seen so many leave at intermission. Ironically, most of the many sound glitches disappeared in the second act, and some actors were allowed a few moments as people rather than cartoons. I imagine Peter Ivanov, who’s directed better plays, was relieved.
