Death in the family delivers big laughs
The bedside phone rings.
“God I hope it’s Death!” the man in the bed snarls.
The opening night audience at Nicky Silver’s black comedy, The Lyons, now at Aurora Theatre, laughed at the line, as it laughed at much of the sizzling outrage in Silver’s play, but it understood the man’s feelings, why he’d rather buy the farm than spend another moment with his nearest but far from dearest.
Ben Lyon is the patriarch of one of the most hilariously dysfunctional families you’re likely to meet on any stage, and one source of our enjoyment is that we are, thank heaven, not part of that family.
We only sit ringside. We don’t have to duck the punches.
It’s a family of four: dad and mom, Ben and Rita, uneasily married for thirty years, and their messed-up adult kids, Lisa and Curtis. What brings them together in one place, or, rather, puts them in physical proximity, is Ben’s cancer. It’s spread all over his body, Rita blithely tells the two kids, who have shown up in his hospital room to learn the news. They’re angry at hearing it so close to Ben’s end, but Rita insists she wanted to spare their feelings as long as possible.
As if any of them cares for the others’ feelings. Rita taunts her dying husband by insisting on redecorating the home he loves. “You can’t stop me,” she crows, while he curses her with seething F-word language no Bay Area paper would likely print. Curtis needles Lisa about her failed relationships with men and her rampant alcoholism, while all of them rag him about his homosexuality–does the man he claims to live with even exist?
If this sounds cringe-making, it is, but it’s the sort of cringing you’re unable to yield to, because you’re laughing too hard. Not that the play doesn’t have its serious side (it contains one of the best-staged physical fight encounters I’ve ever seen), and real bruised feelings lurk under the comedy. The Lyons is farcical at times, but it’s not a farce. Its denizens feel real pain.
Deftly directed by Barbara Damashek, the production’s artistic support team deserves high marks: Eric Sinkkonen (set), Callie Floor (costumes), Kurt Landsiman (lighting), and Chris Houston (sound).
The wonderful cast lights into the material with juicy élan, setting the comedy afire without smothering the pathos: Ellen Ratner as the unflappable Rita, whose big second-act speech of personal liberation earned spontaneous applause (if you’ve ever wanted to tell off your kids, this is how); Bay Area veteran, Will Marchetti, as the gruff, growling Ben; the always fine Nicholas Pelczar as touchy, needy Curtis, who stumbles through a bizarre fantasy; and Jessica Bates as melodramatic, out-of-control Lisa, who doesn’t live life so much as fling herself in its path. Edris Cooper-Anifowoshe as a sassy, no-nonsense hospital nurse, and Joe Estlack as the closeted Brian provide lively counterpoint.
Is there any downside? The play has a sit-com quality at times–Joe Orton filtered through Neil Simon–but I was only intermittently troubled by the flaw. This is comedy etched in acid, and laughs with a dash of vitriol are just my cup of tea.
The Lyons plays on Addison Street until March 1st, followed by Lanford Wilson’s Fifth of July in April. For tickets/information call 843-4822 or visit www.auroratheatre.org.
–ROBERT HALL