Metro Beat - December 11, 2006
There is always a certain darkness attached to Christmas for me, as if the mandatory tidings of comfort and joy can never quite conceal the seamy underbelly lurking just beneath the heaps of garland and tinsel. So imagine my surprise when I stumbled across a Holiday theatrical offering that conformed almost exactly to my twisted sensibilities.
It’s called The Eight: Reindeer Monologues by Jeff Goode, a wickedly funny 1994 play best described as a dark, dark Christmas comedy. It’s currently onstage at the Warehouse Theatre in Greenville, part of their late-night On The Edge series by the Distracted Globe Theatre Company. The one-act play consists of eight monologues, each from one of the reindeer first named in 'Twas the Night Before Christmas . the classic 19th century Christmas poem by Clement Clarke Moore. If you recall, Rudolph was not included in that original work. Although he does not appear onstage in these Reindeer Monologues, he is the subject of comment by almost every one of the eight.
The storyline emerges through each progressive monologue of a scandal at the North Pole when one of Santa's eight tiny reindeer accuses him of sexual harassment. There’s more dirt to be dished, with a surprising amount of emotional baggage littering the stage before all is said and done. It has genuine emotional impact – or at least it does until you remember the actor is wearing reindeer antlers on his or her head and throwing in odd bits of what I suppose are reindeer movements, mostly the occasional pawing of a hoof.
But it’s the actors that make you care – and laugh (mostly laugh) at these all-too-human characters disguised as reindeer.
Up first is Dasher, a no-nonsense military type reindeer still grousing about a long-ago “one foggy Christmas eve” when a certain little reindeer with a glowing nose shoved him aside as lead deer. Jason Bryant, a stage veteran whose credits run from domestic comedy to Shakespeare, is a vision in camouflage as he alternately barks and pleads to make Dasher’s case.
Cupid is the “first openly gay reindeer,” lovingly portrayed by Jayce Tromsness with bitchy fervor, flowing scarves and effete mannerisms that don’t quite disguise the pain in his reindeer heart. Cupid shares hilarious gossip and insight about North Pole life – he calls Santa a “sex crime waiting to happen.” We’d like to see more of him, but the play’s structure precludes a reprise of his broad comic appeal.
Prancer has changed his name to “Hollywood” because he alone among the Eight has a full-length movie named after him. “Live action, none of this claymation” he is quick to remind the audience. James Holbrook’s funny characterization convinces us that Prancer’s only concern with the current scandal is how it will affect his show biz career.
More details of the scandal emerge with Blitzen, the first female reindeer we see. She outlines the sexual harassment charges Vixen has leveled at Santa, pacing the stage as she gives the allegations a decidedly feminist slant. Jess Harper gives Blitzen an edge that sends the play off on a tangent, although not for the last time.
The arrival of Comet onstage gives us a glimpse at some of the choices that director Anne Kelly Tromsness has made for this staging of The Eight. In previous productions around the country over more than a decade, Goode’s play has been seen a metaphor for everything from the O.J. Simpson trial to the sexual harassment allegations that ended the career of Sen. Bob Packwood. In the context of today, the allegations underlying the story have become the coin of common currency. While this does not diminish their seriousness, we at least are familiar with the territory. Of course, we’re talking about Santa Claus and a furry reindeer here, so there’s the whole celebrity thing – and the bestiality angle is new.
Comet, as portrayed by Rhydwyn Davis, is a Brooklyn-ese reindeer saved from a life of gangs and degradation by Saint Nick himself, so he brooks no bad talk about the man in red. His passionate defense of Santa is starkly rendered in dem-dese-dose-speak worthy of a reindeer production of Grease. As for Davis, you have to worry that he might come down with a case of indigestion after chewing the scenery in his very funny star turn in Inspecting Carol during prime time only to return to the stage for another helping as Comet in late night. But it is a tribute to this talented young actor that you cannot take your eyes off him as he cavorts his way through both roles.
Liz Helitzer’s turn as Dancer is a little disturbing, not least because she extends the animal movements throughout her monologue as befitting a character whose name invokes dance. Her nervous mannerisms underscore a reindeer who, while perhaps sympathetic to Vixen’s feelings, is more concerned with employment issues like sick time and pregnancy leave. Helitzer’s Dancer hopes we like her, but if not – oh well, a reindeer girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.
As for Donner… poor Donner. It seems he has a semi-retarded son named Rudolph languishing in the hospital. While trying to drown his sorrows in a bottle of whisky, Donner makes excuses for his life choices – to himself as much as to the audience. As essayed by Jared Johnson, Donner ups the emotional ante in service of the subtext that has emerged at odd moments throughout the monologues preceding his.
Which sets the stage for Vixen. When we first glimpse her in shadows at the rear of the stage, she acknowledges she is the one we have been hearing about all evening. Erin Smith brings just the right amount of grit, pathos and sardonic wit to this pivotal role, and we can easily imagine Santa’s forbidden attraction to her reindeer charms. In the end, the very un-reindeer-like conclusions drawn by Vixen leave us perhaps a little uncomfortable with the snickering smugness with which we have greeted each revelation of her plight over the previous 80 minutes or so.
But only a little, because The Eight: Reindeer Monologues is an unqualified delight. If you couldn’t tell from the above review, this is not a play for children. In fact, it’s for mature audiences only, so leave the kids at home.
There are three remaining performances at The Warehouse Theatre, at 10:30 pm (after Inspecting Carol) on Friday, Dec. 15 and Saturday, Dec. 16. There will be a special prime-time performance at 8 pm on Wednesday, Dec. 13. Tickets are pay-what-you-wish with a $5 minimum. For details, call The Warehouse Theatre at 864-235-6948.