Theater Reviews

Mar 29, 2008 - An excellent "Fat Men in Skirts" at Reno's Bruka Theatre isn't what you think, it's more bizarre

By Jack Neal

“Fat Men in Skirts” refers to a 300-pound transvestite, who never appears in the play now puzzling and delighting audiences at Reno’s Bruka Theatre. On the states’ side of the pond (referring to the Atlantic), as we used to say in the early 20th century, “Fat Men in Skirts” may sound like a Celtic weight-loss class. In reality, it’s a sad, yet-oddly-funny black, black comedy by American playwright Nicky Silver.

Written in 1998, the play is billed as an unconventional love story. It’s more than just unconventional. It’s wacky. It’s eccentric. It’s dark. Sometimes, it’s hilarious. In flashbacks from the play’s desert-island locale, Silver exposes the psychological troubles of a wildly dysfunctional family of three, with an occasional fourth added for crazed good measure. He does his exposing by playing off the horrendous against the humorous via scathing punch lines that rip away at the abscesses of “family” in the fast and sometimes reckless world in which we live.

Bishop Hogan, an eleven-year-old bad seed with a Katherine Hepburn obsession, is played with daunting presence by Robert Grant. In less than two hours, Grant grows from pigeon-toed kid in shorts to 16-year-old beach bum in loin cloth. There’s even more of a stretch in this juicy role, but why expose the plot for those hoping to actually see the fun. It’s enough to say that Grant (in reality he’s 21, and actually old enough to watch such happenings) is an exceptionally able actor who’s believable every bruising step of the way.

Bishop’s mother, Phyllis, is an Imelda-Marcos-shoe-fetish, style-conscious matron. Phyllis is played with passion and wit by the highly gifted Holly Natwora. Not exactly Mother of the Year, Natwora plays Phyllis for the superficial creature she is and never lets character veneer interfere with intensity of characterization.

Five years on a desert island with the indomitable Hepburn commenting on what’s going on down here from somewhere up there, Bishop’s interest in mommy dearest turns carnal. Bishop and Phyllis, the only two survivors of a plane crash, are marooned with a plane load of dead people. Sex is but one of Bishop’s appetites, cannibalism is the other.

After five years, sexually-active son and pedophiliac mother are reunited with poor-excuse-for-father-and-husband Howard Hogan, fervently played by Lewis Zaumeyer. Parenting skills are not Howard’s cup of tea and Zaumeyer bumbles effectively to a performance that’s far better than Howard’s intentions. Howard, a film maker of heartwarming extraterrestrial movies, has taken advantage of his family’s absence to have a torrid live-in affair with, Pam, an ex porn star.

By the time the joyous family reunion takes place, Bishop has graduated to the ranks of serial killer with the hungers of a Hannibal Lecter and the foul mouth of a rap star. Pam, relegated to pretending to be the family’s maid, is played with deft comedic precision by Amy Ginder. Ginder does double duty as the nut-cake cheerleader, Po Po Martin, thrilled by the celebrity of murder. Whether porno-maid or serial-cheerleader, Ginder more than holds her own.

“Fat Men in Skirts” has more than its share of “Who’s for dinner?” jokes, some of them good. Freud, too, comes into play, when the image of a dead - but not gone - Phyllis comes between an institutionalized Bishop and the suicidal cheerleader (the loony Po Po) who finds him a good catch.

There’s more to shock in Silver’s scheme of things, much more. Tightly modulated and swiftly directed by Jim Martin (just over two hours with intermission), “Fat Men in Skirts” offers bushels of dark metaphors for unraveling family ties. It’s a tour-de-force play that must be seen, if you’re into such things, to be believed, and - if you don’t mind disturbing imagery – to be enjoyed.

“Fat Men in Skirts” can be seen Thursdays through Saturdays at 8 p.m. March 13 through April 19 (2008), (with March 28 the performance reviewed) and Sunday, March 30 (2008) at 2 p.m. at the Bruka Theatre, 99 North Virginia Street, Reno, Nevada. For information call 775-323-3221 or go online at bruka.org.