Checking Out In Style

The run of “Suburban Motel,” the Theater Dance and Performance Studies Department’s catch-all title for six one-acts written by George F. Walker, has been a tumultuous one. Perhaps misunderstood, perhaps poorly written, the first four one-acts were ambiguously praised or unambiguously panned. But where its forbearers were derided, “Featuring Loretta” and “The End of Civilization” leave no room for error: “Suburban Motel” is a triumph.

First-billed “Featuring Loretta,” directed by Kelly Rafferty, is a hilarious comment on love, desperation and self-determination. Loretta, played with adorable matter-of-factness by Liz Perz, and Dave, played by Sean McBride, are tentatively dating, but Loretta has a few things to hide, and she’s not willing to discuss exactly what those things are.

Anyone who’s ever had a lover with a past which may or may not include a former husband eaten by a bear can understand Dave’s pain when Loretta refuses to commit. But as Dave’s paternalism begins to overwhelm her, Loretta’s reason for refusing him becomes clearer to us, even as what she had previously considered discrete “options” for her future blur into a tangled mix of familial over-involvement and unwanted advice.

When this emotional watercolor wash begins to bleed, and when Dave is at his loudest and most frantic, McBride’s handle on the character’s vulnerability truly shines through. Dave is the loyal Everyman, an earnest domestic fantasizer who doesn’t understand his partner’s emotional limitations.

This is not to diminish, however, the rapport between topless-dancer booker Michael, played by a capable Nathan Greene, and Dave. The two form a strange understanding over Loretta, and together, the pair engages in well-choreographed combat, well-executed banter, and well-received states of undress.

This relationship is paralleled by the equally enjoyable bond between Loretta and Sophie, a Russian maid played with superb timing by Zahra Noorbakhsh. “Featuring Loretta” has as much to say about the need for personal independence as it does about the quest for mutual understanding—two sublime states mere mortals rarely achieve.

“The End of Civilization,” directed by Jessica Holt, is a particularly apt last stop on Walker’s static journey through Room 25. It charts a formerly middle-class couple’s descent into hell after a husband loses his job. Biblical references abound as Henry, played by Alex Curtis storms, sputters and smolders his way through modern prophethood. But Henry’s prophecy is not one of salvation—it’s a declaration of pessimistic equality. No one is benevolent, no one is safe, and it doesn’t matter who lives or dies. When he asks Donny, an alcoholic cop played by Anthony Croson with a touching boyishness, “What was I?,” he’s essentially asking the festival itself.

Like Loretta and Henry, “Suburban Motel” finds a uniquely modern kind of redemption. The cycle’s final word may have come at the end of a painful and occasionally disastrous series, and it may have been the decisive witness to a long, slow procession of lackluster near-misses (or the misunderstood wanderings of a creative genius—you never really know). But for “Suburban Motel” everything worked out, well, kind of alright. So alright, in fact, it may have been

inspired—even if it wasn’t always easy.

Tags: