Manifold Motion's Miscellenea II Wraps Up Tonight
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Seattlest Pix 09Nov23
Can't Miss It: Monday
Thanksgiving Pairing Suggestion: Sides with a Pint
Adria LaMorticella as Raeanne, Kate Parker as Sylvia Woodville, Laurie Utterback as Eve Woodville and Patrick Walrath as Bertie Woodville in Annex Theatre's production of Charles Ludlam's Love's Tangled Web, directed by Ed Hawkins. Photo: Ian Johnston
Love's Tangled Web at Annex (through May 16, tickets: $5-$12) reminded us sharply of how hilariously queeny things used to be around here. It goes on far too long--what starts out with a full head of bitchy, biting steam somersaults into the ridiculous, then faceplants. This is, in many ways, true to life, but as theatre...well, you get a little antsy after the bootlicking. The play runs two hours and twenty minutes, when 90 would have been sufficient.
Still, if you're in the mood for it (read: soused from alcoholic fruit beverages), the play can feel like a cross between Arrested Development and Soap (which, coincidentally, ended in 1981, the year Ludlam wrote Love's Tangled Web). The rich, dysfunctional Woodville family live on "Long Island's fashionable North Shore"--Sylvia Woodville (Kate Parker, doing a terrific impersonation of a blazing-eyed female impersonator) is the pampered invalid daughter, Eve Woodville (Laurie Utterback) the incompetent mother, and Bertie Woodville (Patrick Walrath, a tall, slack, Little Lord Fauntleroy) the short-pantsed son.
Bram (Daniel Wood), their handyman and gardener, is getting married to Raeanne (Adria LaMorticella, wonderfully peculiar), which perturbs Sylvia, who thinks of Bram as her pet. Director Hawkins has the cast hit you with all barrels right out of the gate, braying and squawking at full volume, backbiting and flinging limp wrists like foils, while announcing things like, "Whenever I have even a hint of a cold, I irrigate my lower intestine," or their intentions to set one another's hair on fire. Gerald B. Browning as Pastor Bates (get it?) spends most of the show trying to hump his way into money for the young boys' orphanage.
It seems likely that you either love these people immediately, or you don't. (Exiting, though, will take bravery--you have to walk up toward the stage to leave. Not that getting in isn't easy, either. We arrived early and had the door shut in our faces. We knocked, and people inside laughed and said merrily, "They'll figure it out!" Meanwhile, the Seattle Weekly reviewer got locked out at intermission.)
The first act is best--Sylvia is the play's self-obsessed motor, and when the tables turn and she gets her comeuppance, much of the good, cruel fun heads off in search of a better party. And the cast tires, too, and lets their mannerisms become theatricalisms as the play coasts in for its bumpy landing. Pass the time by recalling the best lines to repeat as you leave the theater.
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