Farmers Alley Theatre recently opened its production of “A Jukebox for the Algonquin." Spoiler alert: Please be advised that a significant plot point is revealed in this review by Gordon Bolar.
As a theatre reviewer in West Michigan for 25 years, I’ve been privileged to see and review outstanding directorial efforts and a few truly memorable comedies premier on local stages.
In those 25 years I’ve never seen a theatre artist accomplish these two feats in one fell swoop. After the preview I witnessed at Farmers Alley Theatre last Thursday evening, I’m prepared to credit high praise for both direction and writing, to director and playwright, Paul Stroili for A Jukebox for the Algonquin.
Director Stroili’s talented cast, portraying the seniors and staff of a retirement home for this production in the round, flawlessly executes the intricate and precise timing that playwright Stroili has scripted, to yield cascades of laughter during the performance.
The play and the production are, in fact, both remarkable for the way in which laughter is generated. Although the play is rife with quotable laugh lines, the real humor is born from the good intentions, foibles, and fears of the seven fully developed, believable characters.
The stated mission for most of the inhabitants of the Placid Pines Algonquin rec room: to raise the funds necessary for purchasing a jukebox and thus rekindle fading memories of their younger days. Their means: selling marijuana, illegal during 2003 when the play is set, grown from recently discovered live plants left by an aging hippie and recently departed resident.
The plan is not without its perils, however. Algonquin resident, Annie, played by Elizabeth Terrel, agonizes over the punishment she vividly imagines in prison when the “mini cartel” she is a part of seems on the verge of being busted. Her paranoid fantasies, fueled by pot-laced cookies, momentarily transport her into a personal “Orange is The New Black” delusional state.
Charlie Vivirito, as Tyler, shines as the eager-to-please young maintenance man, who frequently puts his foot in his mouth. Some of his polite promises related to fixing the plumbing needs of elderly female residents are easily misconstrued and become the source of even more laughter.
Raucous peals of laughter pour from Stroili’s innovative, crisp, and precise use of pauses, gestures, movement, and entrances. The play contains several moments in which the audience completes the realizations of characters without the use of words from performers.
An example of this occurs when Rico Bruce Wade, as Johnny, an African American resident who leads the fundraising efforts to purchase the jukebox, simply looks down at the herb infused cookie in his hand. As he recognizes the power and potency of the object he holds, and given the hilarious response from the house, an idea is born simultaneously for both Johnny and the audience. These instances of mutual discovery for character and spectator are among the most rewarding and satisfying moments in the theatre.
The versatile Shannon Huneryager, as newbie resident Peg, easily melds into the Algonquin family with her generous cannabis donation contributed toward sales for the Jukebox fund and the elevation of the rec room’s spirits.
This particular Algonquin group of seniors shares a love for literature with the writers and artists of the Algonquin Roundtable that preceded them in the early Twentieth Century. Dennis, played by Lauren McCormack, as the unofficial master of ceremonies, is a gay, wheelchair-bound resident who possess the acerbic wit of a Dorothy Parker.
Dennis keeps watch over the well-being of fellow residents in the Algonquin room, ministers to their cultural development, and takes confession as needed. McCormack is comfortable with his character’s ambulatory challenges and convincing as he sheds a tough exterior to create a spiritual bond with Johnny. Actor Rico Bruce Wade endows Johnny with gravitas and strong presence that makes his lingering connection with Dennis more than plausible.
Kevin Theis, as Chuck, the dust mop guy from the maintenance staff, presents a vivid and poignant portrait of a man attempting to rise above mistakes from his past by immersing himself in the daily needs and problems of the Algonquin community.
Dwandra Nickole Lampkin, as Josefina, Placid Pines head administrator, renders the ultimate explanation of the facility’s duties and responsibilities in caring for each resident’s life and end-of-life situations. Lampkin’s heartfelt defense of her character’s handling of the arrangements for a recently deceased resident is visceral, moving, and memorable.
Earlier in this review, I gave high marks to this script, and its director. It’s not like me to gush, and of course that’s only my opinion. But the overwhelmingly positive and wildly appreciative reaction from the audience throughout the two-hour duration of A Jukebox for the Algonquin would similarly suggest that Farmers Alley Theatre has a major hit on its hands.