KPfuddymeerscritique

Kate Plumblee

**//Fuddy Meers//** **Review** Ever wanted to start over completely? Wipe your memory, forget your past and everyone in it, become a “little blank slate?” Well, before running away and changing your name, you should unquestionably go see the University of Georgia’s adaptation of //Fuddy Meers//, which may extinguish this often commonplace urge. David Lindsay-Abaire’s hilariously funny yet simultaneously tragic comedy chronicles the bamboozling adventures of a particularly interesting day in the life of Claire, an amnesiac who forgets absolutely everything as soon as she falls asleep. From her confused awakening until the dimming of the lights at the end of the show as she drifts back to sleep, Claire, played by Libby Ricardo, alongside a throng of mismatched and uncommunicative characters, captivates the audience as she uncovers her twisted, warped past. Both effective and clever in his creation of this work, Lindsay-Abaire has generated an infinitely entertaining and cathartic “reality” through Claire and her cohorts. The story begins similarly to the classic movie comedy “50 First Dates,” with Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore, but finishes like Eminem’s newly released song “Love the Way You Lie,” the startling lyrics to which read, “I laid hands on her/I’ll never stoop so low again/I guess I don’t know my own strength.” Yet, although the amalgam of tragedy and comedy sometimes leaves the audience uncertain how to react, Lindsay-Abaire’s text is enormously brilliant. The combination of sharp and witty connections that circulate throughout the text, such as the relationship between the limping man’s lisp, Gertie’s stroke-induced slur, Millet’s puppet, and the central theme of miscommunication leave intellectuals squirming in their seats. First walking through the labyrinth of the University of Georgia’s Fine Arts Building into the Cellar Theatre, a small and quaint setting that seats about 100, inspires both uncertainty and disorientation. These sentiments, which fit quite appropriately with the concept of //Fuddy Meers//, disappear when seated; the meticulous detail of the set immediately whisks you into the world of Claire the amnesiac. In fact, upon house opening, Libby Ricardo has already donned her character as she lies asleep, tucked into bed off to the right of the stage. The kitchen, too, in the middle of the stage set up to rotate amongst different scenes, maintains the feeling of reality through intensely focused detail, the most impressive of which is charming red and blue marks on the back wall indicating the height of a growing kid. Despite the initial exceptionality of the set, when the play begins and the first scene transitions into the second, a few flaws become apparent. Firstly, the bulkiness of the rotating set proves to be somewhat of a problem for the crew; many times, they have trouble vacating the stage before the lights come up and the scene commences. Secondly, the amount of time and amount of rotations between scenes is also distracting to the audience, who are trying to suspend themselves in a reality that takes an inordinate amount of time to create. However, I understand the limitations of the Cellar Theatre, and therefore must admire the efforts of both the director, Tressa Preston, and the Scene Designer, David Gotlieb, as I believe they devised a creative manner to outmaneuver an extremely undersized and difficult space. The lights and sound, too, struck me as especially off-putting, without, on the other hand, an explanatory reason. For scene transitions, lighting designer Erin L. Muller constructed a series of blinking, moving, and color-changing lights, which, when put together, is really rather annoying. My best guess is that she was attempting to represent confusion and amnesia, but completely over-shot her mark and left the audience feeling besieged and overwhelmed. The music transitions, similarly, sometimes seem random and irritating, unrelated to the previous scene or the next one; for example, sound designer Josh Jeffries, at one scene transition, simply places the loud and all too exasperating sound of an alarm, which only increases the building tension from the scene before. However, both Muller and Jeffries have their shining moments. In the scene where Claire begins to remember the story of the death of Nancy, her neighbor’s dog, the dimmed, yellow, and spotlighted lighting focuses the emotion onstage, making Claire’s feelings more palpable to the audience. Jeffries, too, contributes to the scene with the biting and noticeably realistic noises of the barking dog, all in all producing a particularly poignant moment in the play. In contrast to the set, lighting, and sound, the costumes, and a few in particular, successfully highlight the most imperative characters and scenes of the zany //Fuddy Meers//. Costume designer Erin Marie McElroy especially captures the essence of Millet, causing this seemingly minor character to stand out amongst the stars. His “damn crazy” personality shines through his brown suit, J.C. Penney tag still attached, and buttoned unevenly; one pant leg is even rolled to reveal bright blue crew socks. Further commendable is the makeup necessary to formulate this production. When the limping man first reveals his shocking facial deformities, I, along with half of the audience, actually gasped at the authenticity of his bent, distorted, and shrunken ear, an instant which defines his character as “real” for the entirety of the production. In short, the detail of the costumes and makeup matches and collaborates with only that of the opening stage set, and I applaud both McElroy and Gotlieb for their communication and unity. Finally, the acting and actors, for the most part, join together the better elements of the show. Save a few jumbled lines here and there, each actor dons his or her character without hesitation, and their individual strengths and weaknesses in their adaptations all play different roles in the audience’s experience and satisfaction. Libby Ricardo, playing protagonist Claire, seems to be the most professionally experienced; however, while she truly encapsulates sincere, dramatic, or horrifying moments, such as whenever she uncovers a new memory, she falls flat on her face as soon as she attempts comedy. Yet, her over-animated lines and facial expressions in these moments are balanced by the absolutely marvelous performance of Carson Cerney as Millet. As my personal favorite, and the actor that made me lean over in my seat chuckling more than any of the others, Cerney fully embraces the nonsensicality and hilarity of his character. His skill as an actor is also apparent in his ability to switch between two different personalities—the loud-mouthed sock puppet “Binkey” and his normally mundane, intellectually-challenged self—quickly and on command. John Plough, too, as Richard, oftentimes provides comic relief in times of tension. Plough’s trained voice intonation delivers some of the best lines in the show, including when he asks his angsty teenage son for a hit of marijuana while nervously driving to find the misplaced Claire. The rest of the cast—Jordan Harris as Kenny, Cole Earnest as Philip the limping man, Kirstin Calvert as Gertie, and Julia Wolf as Heidi—similarly compliment the atmosphere of the show with both precision and excellence in the execution of their characters, Earnest being particularly impressive by implementing a very real and convincing lisp. For the trained eye, this production would hold some unmistakable flaws, however, I recommend that students at the University of Georgia all attend a showing of //Fuddy Meers.// Whether escaping your homework, studying for the looming first set of spring semester exams, or simply supporting your fellow bulldogs, this show is worth a trip to the hallways of the Fine Arts Building. Who knows, maybe you’ll even leave with a new appreciation for the difficulty of the arts, much like myself.