"The Dishwashers' at Walnut Street Theatre

Dishwashing and its broader implications

DAN ROTTENBERG

Deep in the bowels of an elegant restaurant, three dishwashers philosophically ponder their role in the enterprise, as well as their place in the cosmos, communicating largely in culinary metaphors (e.g., “the brown gravy of inevitability”). Dressler, the head dishwasher (played by director Bill Van Horn), exults in his inflated perception of his status: “What we do here has wider implications,” he explains. “We’re the vanguard, the front line… If we let one dirty dish go through, we all go down.”

The ambitious Emmett, the new man to whom Dressler imparts these insights (Jared Michael Delaney), is a young former financial hotshot who, having lost all his money, is now reduced temporarily (he hopes) to the humiliation and boredom of manual labor. The other end of the spectrum is represented by the bitter and decrepit Moss (Lee Golden), who has spent a lifetime watching his modest dreams slip down the greasy drain and now clings to his dishwashing job as the sole remaining proof that he’s still a sentient organism.

Echos of Fully Committed

If the setting sounds like Becky Mode’s 1999 comedy Fully Committed—which similarly perceived a fancy restaurant’s basement-domiciled reservations clerk as the heart of the operation— that’s OK: Fully Committed was a very funny play, and so is The Dishwashers, at least through its first act. Up to the intermission, the script by Morris Panych crackles with incisive repartee that skillfully advances the relationships among the three men. Van Horn is an especially compelling presence as Dressler, who exercises authority through an intriguing blend of oafish intimidation and occasional sensitivity. Similarly, Lee Golden’s coughing-and-spitting turn as a man dying before our eyes is simultaneously poignant and hilarious.

At this point, like the best works of theater, The Dishwashers succeeds on two levels: as a comedy, or as an allegory about growing up and growing old. In effect, the three protagonists represent the past, the present and the future. The young Emmett is determined to change the status quo, the aging Moss is helpless to change the status quo, and the middle-aged Dressler is so thrilled with the status quo that he’ll fight anyone who attempts to alter it.

The broken-dishes gimmick

The play’s problems develop in its overlong second act, when the conflicts and dialogue grow repetitious and the script requires us to take young Emmett’s predicament seriously (as if any college-educated ex-banker ever really winds up washing dishes for a living). And wouldn’t you know that just when I found myself admiring Panych’s refusal to resort to a cheap and obvious dramatic gimmick like breaking dishes, sure enough, Emmett displays his anger by breaking dishes?

Panych deserves our gratitude for venturing beyond the customary topics of theater and film (e.g., show business, crime, sex, war and the lives of writers themselves). He could borrow a leaf from Becky Mode, whose Fully Committed left her audience contented after just 75 minutes. With some judicious pruning, The Dishwashers would make a fine one-act play. It’s worth seeing even now, if you stay for just one act.