There's been a cellist kidnapping in Berlin.
Fortunately (or unfortunately depending on your perspective), the kidnapper was absolutely horrible at his (or her) job.
Before we even arrive at lights up, we are very clear on the fact that the recent kidnapping has plunged the city into a state of despair. Smoke wafts from crannies. Vagrants wander the streets. They feel sad. Not only in response to the recent crime but also because they don't feel seen. They have learned-as a result of numerous unsuccessful bids for attention-that their wall and street-colored clothing renders them all but invisible to passerby. Two of these resigned vagrants pass time as the audience takes their seats playing a grippingly morose game of Stone Brick Jenga downstage right. Losing the game, the female vagrant wanders dejectedly offstage right, leaving her male counterpart onstage to face the back wall of the theater and contemplate the fact that his life has been reduced to the futile pursuit of holding perfectly still while dressed as a wall and reflecting on his loss at Brick Jenga while the new Artistic Director delivers an eloquent and professional curtain speech to start the show.
And we begin!
Eva kicks things off with a brisk and period appropriate cello-straddle. Joseph Bromfield (who is very good and delivers a world-class curtain speech himself- I've seen it) is demonstrating his acting range by portraying a 199 year-old man who'd really like Eva to play another song, but Eva knows this isn't really a musical and therefore, we responsibly forge ahead.
Nick Aliff enters the stage. He is, as always, very tall and, as such, able to lift extremely heavy items- in this case, a knapsack the size of an apartment complex. Some guy named after a wild animal trots onstage immediately following with his own gargantuan backpack and the two split a Lean Cuisine whilst engaging in what will prove to be the first of many thickly accented dialogues about whose backpack is heavier and who should get to carry the only gray blanket.
Agreeing for the moment to disagree, the two men exit stage left and the incredible Eva enters through a hole in the wall for her striptease. The audience is on the edge of their seats, but suffer disappointment as Eva is distracted immediately by the giant movie playing on the wall behind her. Paying no regard to the age old admonition not to stand that closely to the television, she turns and watches the movie mere inches from the screen. She adopts and admirably holds a strong and dramatic stance while doing so, however, so we excuse her faux pas.
Following the film- which was absolutely exquisite- Eva decides to see what's going on in the center of the set. Perhaps that will be three dimensional. She hopes so. The projected movie was achingly lovely, but she can't help but wonder what could've been if there hadn't been the unfortunate hindrance of the enormous stone wall onstage. No projections would've been needed! Just imagine the sets which could have been built. Especially when you've got talented folk like Bruce Rennie and Luke Robinson on hand.
Stepping atop the centerstage platform, Eva makes the acquaintance of a blond lady never before seen in these parts. She informs Eva that she is, in fact, her mother. Great, Eva thinks. I'll sit on this couch and complain about some stuff while simultaneously conducting an absolute master class on Keeping One's Knees Together While Acting On A Platform In A Knee-Length Skirt.
Amidst Eva's diatribe, we learn that the leading cellist of the Berlin Philharmonic has gone missing! Woe and despair! What will the orchestra do? Eva pretends to be bummed out at this turn of events but is secretly delighted because Andy Boothby has called her into his office earlier and secretly offered her the job of replacement cellist. And....she's decided to accept.
Eva's mother listens in astonishment. I mean, it's obvious. Completely and utterly obvious that she- Eva's blond mother- has kidnapped the cellist. She's RIGHT THERE. Straddling her cello on a platform in the very same living room in which Eva sits monologuing. Hmm. Perhaps Eva's eyesight is not as it should be-- wait. Drat and blast! It's that infernal habit Eva refuses to break of sitting too close to the television. She's told her....
Having relayed her news, Eva skips daintily away in her fetching little peep toe slingback heel, narrowly missing the re-entrance of Nick and Nick's tailgater. The two men have grown tired of warring over the weights of their backpacks and have moved on to debating who can do a thicker Russian/German/Scottish/British/Irish accent. This is a very entertaining war, which stretches on into the next day whereupon they exit stage left to begin again the arduous journey back around to stage right for their next entrance.
Suddenly, Eva's right foot pops out of the sewer. She struggles heroically and impressively to enter the stage from the orchestra pit- with her cello- all the while managing not to run her pantyhose. She staggers into her blond mother's house. Exhausted from her efforts, she drops her cello case in the sitting room (still completely oblivious to the captive cellist above) and plops down- modestly- on the couch. All at once she remembers the existence of the side door and could just kick herself for having gone through all the trouble of entering the house from a hole in the ground when she could have simply used the side entrance. She will not make that mistake again.
The blond mother enters the scene. She reveals that she has been hiding lunches in a hole in the floor. And on top of that- she has been hiding Scott Wichmann in the pantry. Eva is horrorstruck. Nobody keeps her husband in the pantry! (Eva is also privately concerned because she sees no logical reason for her mother to be hiding snacks in the floor if the being for whom those snacks are intended is not hiding in the floor as well.) A bitter debate ensues, but before a resolution can be reached, Eva has to leave for the theater and Nick Aliff has to vomit.
A very smart actor, Nick realizes the dramatic impact vomiting will have upon his opening night audience and holds it all in until he has managed to stagger all the way to centerstage. There- he lets it rip. Or drip, as it were. Gross, gross, gross.*
After a moment to gather himself, Nick and his companion agree to exit the scene so he can regain his composure.
Eva and her mother resume their conversation. They both miss Eva's father. But when pressed, Eva confesses, "When I see the bricks, I only see the bricks." Her mother fights back tears. Here- further proof that Eva's eyesight is failing.
As the gravity of looming Lasik settles over the sitting room, Nick has recovered and is ready for his next entrance. Feeling not yet 100%, he elects to take a seat on a fake boulder downstage left for his upcoming monologue. His companion- who continues to be all up in Nick's personal business- selfishly steals half of the sick man's blanket and they sit snuggled while Nick waxes rhapsodic in thickly accented Russian. At moments he becomes delirious, yelling about sauerkraut, crucial bits of the female anatomy, and whether or not his companion believes in someone named "Gus."
On the bright side- Eva's debut in the orchestral chair of the kidnapped cellist goes remarkably well. So much so that she returns home and raves about the experience in front of her mother and the cellist herself. Just tactless, really.
Thing seem to be getting out of hand. Far downstage, two actors enter with Nick & Co. and immediately realize they are wearing each other's pants. Embarrassed but professional, Nick and Nosy Blanket Boy improv a touching scene about the existence of God while the other two actors swap costumes.
Crisis averted, we find ourselves back in the sitting room. Overcome with pity for her nearly blind daughter, blond mother decides to allow Eva to speak to her husband in the pantry. The scene is set. Eva sinks into a chair by the pantry door. Suddenly, Scott speaks. The audience is instantly put at ease- it cannot be but so bad living in the pantry if one is afforded a body mic equipped with reverb with which to communicate. Scott's doing a killer job in his role- even vocally you can hear him tear up and be completely committed to the character- but Eva's heard him rehearse this a zillion times at home and finds herself zoning out for a minute when she realizes her entire torso would disappear were she to stand in front of the pantry door, given that her top matches the pantry door paint to a tee.
The audience is cozily wrapped in this quiet moment when Nick suddenly enters with great purpose and seats himself on the abandoned game of Stone Brick Jenga. He proceeds to deliver a gripping monologue to an entirely invisible entity in the first balcony while himself gripping two slices of beef jerky in his fists.
A well-seasoned actor, Scott is growing concerned behind his door. Just where is this sonnet about seasoned meat going? Is Nick suffering delirium from his earlier bout of nausea? He decides he can't take the chance of anything potentially derailing the play. This is, after all, a world premiere worthy of two Newbery Book Award stickers on the opening night playbill. Out of respect for the hours of time it probably took VA-Reps interns to apply those stickers and of his boating and oft-sockless friend-theplaywright-Scott bursts from the pantry to take back control of the play.
The cast holds its breath. Entrance applause here would really splinter the mood. This audience though- is a smart one. They remain appropriately silent and respectful. Whether or not they bit the insides of their cheeks to stifle their joyous hoots at Scott's appearance shall remain a mystery.
It's worked. No one remembers quite where they were in their personal dramas. After a few moments of confusion, Eva and her mother decide to go to the grocery store just to get things back to normal. They leave Scott in the sitting room, but direct his attention to the giant movie screen upstage so he won't be bored. Grocery shopping is proving successful until- Oh no! Nick and Nosy Blanket Thief have decided to go grocery shopping at the same time! All four parties stop dead upon encountering each other. Nick hasn't seen Eva since "Sam & Carol!" They size each other up. Eva and her mother decide to retreat. A wise call.
We imagine all could have been well- Eva and her mother arrive home, dust Scott off, convince him that cellist theft is "the thing to do" and nothing to be alarmed about, and we all live happily ever after knowing that Andy Boothby has achieved his dream of pretending to be in a production of "The Sound of Music" downstage left.
But for "Westworld." Eva, you see, has been watching "Westworld" on HBO and simply cannot let go of her dream of pretending to be Dolores dropping her can of beans on Main Street. Against all better judgment, she decides to go back for the can she dropped as she and her mother fled the grocery store.
We knew it would happen. Privately, our kidnapped cellist revels in the karma she sees playing out beneath her. Nick and his companion spy Eva as she nimbly snatches her can from the street and....they follow her home. Nick-an avid theatergoer-is overcome upon finding Scott Wichmann in the house and immediately reconsiders his poor life choices, but his loyal companion has had no such theatrical exposure. Entirely unmoved by Scott's presence, all he can think about is finding out whether or not the top half of Eva's body matches the pantry door with or without her sweater. He claws at her top.
Having nothing but the deepest and most well-deserved respect for the costumers of VA-Rep, Eva is ready to do anything and everything to avoid her costume falling into a state of disrepair and cleverly fools Nick's crony by curling up on the couch in the fetal position and pretending to nap for the rest of the scene. Foiled.
Nick has seen enough. He decides this family will adopt him. If they don't, he'll vomit on them and squash them under his backpack.
And so, most all is well. Scott is released from the closet, Eva's hose remain unscathed, Nick has found a home with people who will share his penchant for accents and dramatic storytelling.
But the cellist........
Sequel?
*I confess to having paid zero attention to the next five minutes of the play due to being preoccupied wondering what exactly, was that stage vomit composed of ? Was it yummy? Squishy? I think I'd want it to be cherries if it were me. Or like, mashed potato and cheese casserole.
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