October 12, 2007
By David Ng
'Canned Peaches' a wicked farce
In a drought-stricken dystopia where humans are divided into cannibals and vegetarians, life tastes pretty much like a mouthful of dirt no matter what diet you follow. Alex Jones' new play, "Canned Peaches in Syrup," is a nasty, cynical farce about human desperation in bleak times, but as the title indicates, there's more than a hint of sweetness to balance out the bitter world view.
The Furious Theatre Company's production is smart, wicked and acted with animal intensity by a stellar cast. The story follows two itinerant groups -- a nuclear family of vegetarians ("Meat is murder!" serves as their mantra) and a mercenary gang of cannibals. Everyone is hungry, tired and covered in a permanent layer of dust.
In an attempt to procure human flesh, one of the cannibals (Shawn Lee) secretly infiltrates the vegetarian camp, only to fall in love with the family's young daughter (Katie Davies). "I like your hair," the boy says. "Thanks. I washed it last year," she shyly replies.
The plot line suggests "Romeo and Juliet" crossed with "Mad Max," but the overall tone is more like a raunchy satire in the Alfred Jarry vein. The dialogue features wall-to-wall profanity, and the scatological conversations possess a deadpan comic quality. In the end, the vegetarians' prized can of peaches goes missing and bloody mayhem breaks loose.
This play's biggest achievement is making the audience roar with laughter as mankind literally devours itself limb by limb.
October 10, 2007
By Julio Martinez
With "Canned Peaches in Syrup," a relentlessly macabre glimpse into a post-apocalyptic future of worldwide environmental devastation, Brit scripter Alex Jones has impressively intermingled an everyday struggle to survive with the often-hilarious absurdity of the human spirit that innately strives to create normalcy out of chaos. Under the inventive staging of helmer Damaso Rodriguez, a talented and dedicated eight-member Furious Theatre Company ensemble turns Jones' creative vision into a compelling and noteworthy legiter.
The planet's civilizations have been distilled down to two tribes of nomadic humans: Vegetarians and Cannibals. Pragmatic veggie-muncher Pa (Robert Pescovitz) strives to instill the will to live into the spirits of his sickly wife Ma (Laura Raynor) and listless daughter Julie (Katie Davies). Pa's one tangible symbol of hope is an unopened can of peaches, which he is saving to celebrate the world's rebirth, when the Earth can finally replenish itself.
The sorry condition of the planet is a result of the environmental concerns of today, principally the broad strokes of industrial pollution and global warming. The concept of a divinity, however, is still strongly embedded within the psyches of these motley human stragglers, enabling smooth-talking religious huckster Blind Bastard (Dana Kelly Jr.) to play off the fears of both clans. Mellifluously gifted Kelly projects a perfect balance of pomposity and grasping need as Blind Bastard relentlessly pursues the one remaining symbol of Earth's former glory: Pa's can of peaches.
Jones contrasts the tentative optimism of the Pa clan with the voracious immediacy of the nearby cannibal quartet of Rog (Shawn Lee), Bill (Eric Pargac), Heather (Libby West) and near-dead but still lighthearted Scab (Nick Cernoch). The essence of Jones' thematic throughline, the burgeoning Romeo and Juliet romance between Rog and Julie, is set in motion by the absurdly hyperphysical antics of the cannibals as they send Rog surreptitiously into Pa's camp to scout out their next meal -- Pa and kin.
Lee and Davies are perfectly matched, as Rog and Julie utter endearing profanities at one another that are in perfect accord with the wretched, environment-ravaged conditions of their youthful bodies. In Jones' painfully brutal world, the couple reaches their romantic pinnacle when Rog tentatively suggests they engage in a near-extinct level of human interaction: copulation.
The action is played out on Melissa Tech's stark, impressionistic sets, which give credence to the scripter's concept of a sun-seared American landscape devoid of adequate natural resources to sustain healthy life.
The ensemble's character-perfect perfs are enhanced by the inventive, evocative designs of Christy M. Hauptman (costumes/props), Dan Jenkins (lighting) and Doug Newell (sound/music).
October 10, 2007
By Les Spindle
CRITIC'S PICK
An unkempt patriarch leads his family through a desolate landscape, dragging a large wagon that contains the family belongings, a la Mother Courage. This opening imagery in Alex Jones' futuristic dark comedy brims with contemporary resonance, evoking reflections on society's homeless population. Setting his play in an unspecified region in America after environmental damage has led to an apocalypse, Jones combines audaciously subversive humor with subtle poignancy to profound effect. Director Damaso Rodriguez's incisive world-premiere rendition is a bold and thrillingly theatrical exploration of Jones' intriguing themes.
With the world's food supply limited to unappetizing options such as plant roots, humanity has evolved into nomadic tribes of predators (cannibals) and prey (vegetarians). The most valuable possession of a vegetarian clan -- Pa (Robert Pescovitz), Ma (Laura Raynor), and daughter Julie (Katie Davies) -- is a can of peaches. When a bizarre derelict, Blind Bastard (Dana Kelly Jr.), wanders onto the family's camp spot, presenting himself as a religious disciple, Pa foolishly shows this seemingly harmless visitor the stashed can. Bastard will do anything to get this rare delicacy for himself, including alerting a nearby cannibal tribe to the vegetarian family's whereabouts. Though Jones uses broadly comic situations to drive his story, his themes are sobering. He ponders our instinctive need for human connection, even among opponents in a desperate struggle for survival. Though bawdy dialogue and gross-out gags occasionally lapse into overkill, these devices are effective in delineating the crudity of this emotionally damaged society.
The ensemble work is impeccable. Kelly is splendid as the mad wanderer -- a hilarious amalgam of Don Quixote and one of those bombastic television evangelists. As mismatched lovers, Davies evokes raucous hilarity with her sex-starved virgin, and Shawn Lee is equally fine as her suitor from the wrong side of the tracks -- a cannibal tribe. Guess who's coming to dinner? Or who will be dinner? Libby West's boisterous take on the hell-raising Heather, an insatiable carnivore, is at once funny and fearsome. Excelling in other roles are Pescovitz, Raynor, Nick Cernoch, and Eric Pargac. Stunningly surrealistic design elements and Brian Danner's masterful fight choreography add to the realization of Jones' thought-provoking vision.