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Photo by Don Kellogg

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

The Receptionist

Occasionally, it happens. I see a play and walk out with a totally different perspective than Ben Brantly, Charles Isherwood, and the other critics. They loved it.
Don't get me wrong - Jane Houdyshell is pitch-perfect in her portrayal of every one's favorite admin in the office - she comes and goes like the Swiss railroad, she guards her pens, chitty-chats with the staff and her friends and family all day on the phone while allowing occasional work task to creep in, throws the un-wanted callers into voicemail for the boss, and keeps a watchful eye over the comings and goings in the entire office.

Other than the bright spot of Jane - this play was a disaster. The first scene took 10 minutes to unfold - and went nowhere. You had no idea what Robert Foxworth is talking about.

Then the next 50 minutes were spend watching meaningless and pointless conversations take place and leave you asking after over an hour - - "Where is this thing going"? You are supposed to infer after a while that some form of futuristic torture is in play.

Not even in the final 15 minutes to they even get to the point. And then - after you finally convince yourself that you were right in your vague assumption thus far, the play ends!! What becomes of our favorite admin? You can only assume her dark fate.

You never saw the boss again. You find out the other co-worker ran away. And you come to learn that that the "Northeast Office" and the "Central Office" are nothing more than a proxy for the CIA... or the FBI... of some vague combination of Abu-Garave in Iraq.
I'm sorry Ben, Charles, and all the others who loved it. I think you may have dozed off and got the funny lines in the beginning and the "dramatic" ending. I couldn't even bring myself to clap at the end. Mostly because the person next to me asked two or three times in the dark "is that it"?