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InterAct's 'When Something Wonderful Ends'
Dan Rottenberg
Through a half-empty glass, darkly
DAN ROTTENBERG
In Remembrance of Things Past, Marcel Proust bit into a Madeleine, thereby unleashing a flood of memories of his youth. In When Something Wonderful Ends, the playwright Sherry Kramer discovers a cherished Barbie doll from her early ‘60s childhood, thereby unleashing a 90-minute harangue about how the world has subsequently gone to hell, thanks primarily to Americans’ addiction to Middle East oil.
Different folks, different strokes.
Hooked on oil we well may be, but Kramer is addicted to sweeping generalizations, like “We Americans are pretty arrogant,” “Nobody in America takes responsibility any more,” “People spend more time in their cars than in bed,” “Our government has failed us,” “Greed is what got us into this mess,” and my personal favorite, “The facts are these: We don’t live in a democracy any more, we live in a petro-regime.” The facts are these?
Lest anyone doubt Kramer’s argument, her script assures us that “the research I did on this made it very clear.” And let us stipulate, as lawyers say, that Kramer’s heart is in the right place. But the facts are these: This is not a play; it’s a lecture, and not a very sophisticated one at that.
Kramer’s script tries to draw analogies between her mother's death and and the tragedy that occurred when we fell in love with cars and plastics. But she never suggests what was the "something wonderful" that was ended by that tragedy. Was it the Cold War? Soviet Communism? Colonialism? Fascist South American dictatorships? Apartheid? Racial segregation? Male chauvinism? Smoking in restaurants? What? The good old days do get complicated when you examine them closely, don’t they?
Lori Wilner, as the author’s alter ego, is ideally suited for the role of a girlish middle-aged woman trying to recapture the innocence of her lost childhood. And the set design by Paul Owen— which recreates the Missouri home of the author’s late mother— offers a wonderful walk through the detritus of the ‘50s and ‘60s, especially all those toy cars and Barbie dolls. But Kramer’s heavy-handed script is beyond salvage by any mortal actress or set designer. After 90 minutes of this one-woman diatribe, it was all I could do to resist shouting, “OK, OK— I’ll adopt alternative energy sources! Just let me outta here!”
To read a response, click here.
DAN ROTTENBERG
In Remembrance of Things Past, Marcel Proust bit into a Madeleine, thereby unleashing a flood of memories of his youth. In When Something Wonderful Ends, the playwright Sherry Kramer discovers a cherished Barbie doll from her early ‘60s childhood, thereby unleashing a 90-minute harangue about how the world has subsequently gone to hell, thanks primarily to Americans’ addiction to Middle East oil.
Different folks, different strokes.
Hooked on oil we well may be, but Kramer is addicted to sweeping generalizations, like “We Americans are pretty arrogant,” “Nobody in America takes responsibility any more,” “People spend more time in their cars than in bed,” “Our government has failed us,” “Greed is what got us into this mess,” and my personal favorite, “The facts are these: We don’t live in a democracy any more, we live in a petro-regime.” The facts are these?
Lest anyone doubt Kramer’s argument, her script assures us that “the research I did on this made it very clear.” And let us stipulate, as lawyers say, that Kramer’s heart is in the right place. But the facts are these: This is not a play; it’s a lecture, and not a very sophisticated one at that.
Kramer’s script tries to draw analogies between her mother's death and and the tragedy that occurred when we fell in love with cars and plastics. But she never suggests what was the "something wonderful" that was ended by that tragedy. Was it the Cold War? Soviet Communism? Colonialism? Fascist South American dictatorships? Apartheid? Racial segregation? Male chauvinism? Smoking in restaurants? What? The good old days do get complicated when you examine them closely, don’t they?
Lori Wilner, as the author’s alter ego, is ideally suited for the role of a girlish middle-aged woman trying to recapture the innocence of her lost childhood. And the set design by Paul Owen— which recreates the Missouri home of the author’s late mother— offers a wonderful walk through the detritus of the ‘50s and ‘60s, especially all those toy cars and Barbie dolls. But Kramer’s heavy-handed script is beyond salvage by any mortal actress or set designer. After 90 minutes of this one-woman diatribe, it was all I could do to resist shouting, “OK, OK— I’ll adopt alternative energy sources! Just let me outta here!”
To read a response, click here.
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