Arts in ReviewReview: It's Called the Sugarplum

Review: It’s Called the Sugarplum

This article was published on April 24, 2014 and may be out of date. To maintain our historical record, The Cascade does not update or remove outdated articles.
Reading time: 2 mins

Reviewed by Dessa Bayrock

Directed by Jennifer Steadman

Plays again:

Saturday, April 26 at 9:20 p.m.

Sunday, April 27 at 6:40 p.m.

 

The play starts with Wallace Zuckerman (Eli Moores) listening to the radio and hearing the radio announcer pronounce his name wrong. Why is Wallace being talked about on the radio, you might ask? Well, it appears he ran someone over with his car.

What he’s really concerned about, it appears, is that the announcer keeps saying “Soccerman” instead of “Zuckerman.”

But tensions are about to get a whole lot higher; with a demanding knock on the door, Wallace now has to face the fiancée (Ashlyn Tegg) of the guy he ran over last night.

Tegg is a whirlwind of fury and accusation, hitting the right emotional rollercoaster of someone in grief. Too often actors overplay high emotion, but in reality — and as Tegg shows — a heightened emotional state comes with its share of lows. She admirably includes pauses in between her outbursts, showing the weary side of cold anger as well as the loud.

Moores plays foil to this character perfectly; it quickly becomes clear that he’s more hapless than anything — bumbling to the edge of adorability. He could be your little brother — the kind of confused puppy dog that you want to take care of. At the same time, there’s a creepy edge to his nonchalance that sends a chill through the room.

Did I mention this juxtaposition is hilarious?

Moores knows exactly how to stop and let the audience react to the hapless punchlines he accidently spouts forth, and Tegg has just the right body language to be offended and turned on all at once.

At first it seems like a clear-cut case of righteous anger versus clumsy and apologetic villain. But it quickly becomes clear that both characters aren’t exactly being honest with one another. She’s a flighty artist type and he treads the line between creepy and adorably socially awkward. Their subsequent mating dance is hilarious — and they might just be perfect for each other.

 

Memorable lines:

“I don’t have any coffee. Do you want some water? Peanut butter?”

“I’m just cut out for meat. You know what I mean?”

“I ran right over him! I have a knack for this.”

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