Let’s start by comparing Tom Key’s new adaptation of John Kennedy Toole’s “A Confederacy of Dunces” to hot dogs. In the beloved New Orleans tale, enfant terrible Ignatius J. Reilly creates bedlam in a series of comic capers including gigs at a pants factory and, more famously, behind a steaming hot dog cart.
A well-dressed wiener is by nature a thing of beauty — oleaginous, messy, unwieldy at times, a delightful guilty pleasure in the end — and that’s what this Theatrical Outfit world premiere production is. Dripping with fun and chock full of delicious character tidbits by some of the best actors in town, “Dunces” won't disappoint. And it mostly refrains from turning into the sloppy rambler that the 400-page, posthumously published Pulitzer Prize- winning novel can be. As directed by Richard Garner, however, the show does feel a bit long in the bun: 2 1/2-plus hours of giggly air that slowly fizzles out without much of an a-ha moment.
In some ways, the overweening, bloviating and condescending Ignatius (Aaron Munoz) is a lost cause and the hardest emotional conflict is that of his mother Irene (Kathleen McManus), who is torn by her love for her son and her need for self-preservation. With her enormous eyes and facility for expression, McManus wears the masks of hilarity and bereft-ness with equal aplomb. She is a riotous alcoholic, unnerved by her gentleman caller and yet seduced by the promise of change.
Munoz is perfectly suited to the oversize personality and physicality of Ignatius; his response to the character is clear and precise, but there is not much variety in it. He’s funny, but he’s also a fixed star in a constellation scattered with brilliant energy.
Hats (and mustaches) off to William S. Murphey, who is heartbreakingly funny as Irene’s suitor, Claude, a man who believes everyone, including Officer Mancuso (the delightful Scott Warren), is a Communist. Marianne Fraulo plays no less than three roles, the funniest one being the narcoleptic Miss Trixie, a Levy Pants hanger-on who is the pet project of Mrs. Levy (Agnes Lucinda Harty), a figure whose vulgarity is only eclipsed by Night of Joy dominatrix Lana Lee (Harty, again). Eric Mendenhall’s Gonzales has a shaky Latin accent, but that’s part of the shtick, and Andrew Puckett’s take on the flamboyant queen Dorian Greene is priceless.
On the design side, Jamie Bullins’ period costumes are beyond fabulous, though Sara Ward’s set — a montage of New Orleans photographs positioned like the chapels of a cathedral — is an uninspired, all-purpose device that's sort of a cop-out. Some of the rudimentary props (stained pink sheets for walls) don’t serve much of a purpose. The creators would do better to trust the strength of the situations.
As the show winds on to its rather ho-hum conclusion, the ensemble comes onstage to utter the Jonathan Swift credo that opens the book: “When a true genius appears in the world, you may know him by this sign, that the dunces are all in confederacy against him.” This feels a little like Sunday school and rather tagged on. But fortunately, it's one of the few false notes in a pageant of such loopy madness that it might make you declare, "Hot diggity dog."
“A Confederacy of Dunes”
Grade: B
7:30 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays. 2:30 p.m. Sundays. 2:30 p.m. Aug. 21 and Aug. 25. Student matinee: 11 a.m. Sept. 1. Through Sept. 5. $15-$35. Theatrical Outfit, 84 Luckie St., Atlanta. 678-528-1500; www.theatricaloutfit.org
About the Author
Keep Reading
The Latest
Featured
