Embarrassment of Riches

From the Theater Vault Dept.: During the late 1980s, an experiment in theatrical presentation settled into a small Schenectady theater for a couple of seasons. Run under the auspices of Proctor’s Theater (as the much less-ambitious entity styled itself back then), Proctor’s Too brought in an array of unexpected talent, among them Santa Fe-based Theater Grottesco. Founded in Paris in 1983 by former members of Theatre de la Jeune Lune (who also visited back then), the company is still going strong, having relocated to New York and Detroit before settling in New Mexico in 1996.

                                                                                         

THE PROGRAM BOOKLET PROMISED a full-length show with a large cast, but the stagehands could be seen nervously scurrying as the audience settled. Finally, the announcement: all of the cast and scenery had been delayed at O’Hare. The four stagehands would produce the show with a minimum of accoutrements.

"Richest Deadman," from a
more recent production

Those stagehands being, naturally, the Theatre Grottesco company, a Detroit-based ensemble that combines mime, dance and circus techniques into a theatrical experience that, as the prologue to “The Richest Deadman Alive” suggests, is not going to be your run-of-the-mill play.

What bogged down this production and ultimately proved to undermine the success of the show was the way in which this piece, conceived and written by the four performers, got into too traditional a groove. Terence McNally, for instance, could make a nice door-slammer out of this story of a man misdiagnosed as dead who joins his purported widow in a spending spree of his insurance money.

The money runs out all too soon, so another faked demise must be planned. That kind of absurdity worked splendidly when played at lightning speed by England’s Goons on their ‘50s-era radio series, but Theatre Grottesco kept the characters a little too sketchy, seeking humor merely in mugging and funny voices. It was reminiscent of one of the less-accomplished Saturday Night Live ensembles.

The strengths of the players themselves should be the group’s focal point, and material should evolve from those strengths. “Dead Man” is like the Marx Brothers’ movie of “Room Service”: it’s a good play, and they’re good players—but they seemed somewhat bogged down by the traditional trappings of the piece. There was a little too much plot in this play.

Not that it wasn’t without moments of brilliance. A scene in which one character must ply the mazes of officious bureaucracy placed him in an abstractly drawn office that consisted of a desk and chair whizzing back and forth, commandeered by two of the others—but looking for all the world like any Albany legislative sanctum.

Likewise, the noise and panic of a highway was wonderfully suggested just with head movements and mouth noises, and a traffic accident was created with no props whatsoever. There’s good stuff to be mined in this material.

Was it worth seeing? Absolutely. I’m completely sold on Proctor’s Too, and grateful for the opportunity to see something as unique as this company, even without the imprimatur of “total success” from other area critics.

And if other reviews seemed cantankerously nasty, it’s no doubt because those critics have had their expectations raised to an extraordinarily high degree by the Proctor’s Too track record. You’ll never find a Neil Simon play reviewed that way because we know what mediocrity to expect. A company like this can take you in any direction—and I’m more than happy to make the trip.

The Richest Deadman Alive
Created and Performed by Theatre Grottesco
Proctor’s Too, May 19

– Metroland Magazine, 25 May 1989