You Gotta Care to Wonder

It was like the Ghost Light afterparty, only with scenes instead of show tunes.

TheatrLab, the upstart theater company that keeps impressing me with their dedication to new works and affordable tickets, was having their first Field Day at Gallery 5.

And on easy-like-Sunday-morning kind of a day, a short walk to watch everything from Chekhov monologues to a complete roast was just the thing to finish out a lazy day.

As a huge and unexpected bonus, when I walked in, it was to a bake sale table of cookies and snacks.

For the record, many's the time I've walked into the Ghost Light afterparty and wished I could buy some dessert to go with my bottle o' Rose.

Tonight there were homemade gingerbread and molasses cookies as thick as my hand and full of seasonal spices.

Now that's what I'm talking about, guys.

From a front row seat, I watched a showcase of the company members and staff of TheaterLab exhibiting their mad skills for our amusement.

Besides Chekhov, there was a song, a scene about a philandering man told entirely without words and a particularly strong scene about patricide and sexual abuse.

Just another evening of light theatrical amusements.

Two scenes were actually previews because they were taken from plays that TheaterLab will be doing in the Spring.

"Riding the Bull" with Maggie and Matt featured drawling accents, discussions of dressing cows and philosophical issues much bigger.

Favorite line: "You gotta care to wonder."

Isn't that the truth?

The other upcoming play was "Speech and Debate" about a high school kid's attempts to write about controversial subjects for the school paper.

He wants to write about abortion and gets shot down and then suggests writing about Republicans gone wild.

When his adviser suggests he also look at Democrats' behavior, DeeJay scoffs. "People expect that kind of behavior from Democrats."

Wah-wah. The room erupted with Democratic laughter.

There was also the small problem of his character not being ready to come out, but that was just a tease for what's to come.

By intermission, anyone would have been impressed with the array of drama, comedy and song we'd seen.

So impressed, in fact, that an additional gingerbread cookie was required.

The second half began with audience participation.

One of TheaterLab's exercises involves creating a play from a random setting, characters, situation and line and we were asked to provide them.

The result: the alley behind Virginia Rep, estranged twins both of whom need a kidney and the line, "Ain't nobody got time for that."

And then they were off to the upper gallery to create a play while our entertainment continued.

Starting things off was Lewis Carroll's "The Walrus and the Carpenter," a wordy story of oyster lovers done by Elizabeth with nary a trip on the rhyming verse.

"Bachelor Holiday" was probably the longest piece and positively laugh out loud-worthy with its look at a morning in the life of young men.

You know, the kind who consider a beer and a Mars bar breakfast. The kind who whine when someone eats all their Cocoa Puffs. The kind who challenge each other to do dumb stuff.

Young men.

To be fair, one did find folding underwear to be a "Zen thing," but he, too, succumbed to lowest common denominator behavior, smashing a mouse and shooting tequila.

Young men.

The funniest line from that piece came when discussing a girlfriend who made some kind of art.

What kind, you ask? "Neurotic women art," came the answer to knowing nods.

Hysterical, if a tad politically incorrect.

But young men.

Then it was time for the just-created one act play, "Small World, Huh?"

It involved two women, one black, one white, on a cigarette break behind Virginia Rep.

Inhaling and exhaling in unison, their innocuous chat leads them to discover their similarities.

"Huh!" they say after each shared revelation.

When the truth of their being twins seems apparent, they still don't quite see it.

So they have the same birthday, were born in the same hospital, are both missing a kidney and have a dead mom.

That couldn't possibly mean anything. Why not?

"You're black!" one explains.

"You have big feet!" the other says.

The audience roared.

We had the pleasure of hearing from off-off-off Broadway legend Marjorie Lee Stewart Vandercamp (Maggie) bragging about meeting Liza (with a Z) and barking at pianist Evan to transition us into the final event.

"Roasted" was a look back at the year in Richmond theater.

No theater company was exempt and often the scene involved theatergoers discussing what they'd seen to hysterical results.

Quickly they went through each company's season.

Firehouse's "Death of a Salesman" was lauded publicly and then acknowledged in private as booooring.

Boring is in the eye of the beholder but I wouldn't have missed DoaS for anything. How often does a theatergoer get Miller?

Richmond Triangle Players' plays were catalogued with each description beginning with "gay."

Yes, and that is exactly why we love them. That and the tables to hold our drinks.

Henley Street got deserved praise for their Bootleg Shakespeare calling it, "The best f*cking play we ever saw."

You don't have to tell me. I'm one of those nerds who lines up an hour and a half in advance to ensure I get in every year.

For Sycamore Rouge, Evan said, "Sycamore Rouge gets a free pass cause we're glad they're still here."

Amen. I have fond memories of seeing "Picasso at the Lapin Agile" there.

Richmond Shakespeare got pummeled for the notoriously hot and sweaty season they do at Agecroft every summer.

P.S. I will wear a tank top and sweat happily for outdoor Shakespeare.

Virginia Rep's roasting focused on "The Producers," the classic play about two guys trying to make money off a play.

So what else is new in the theater world? Anyway, everyone's raving about how good the play is.

They even skewered themselves, noting of TheaterLab, "Don't worry, there'll be a talkback afterwards."

Always a talkback, always room for discussion.

But then, isn't that what you want in an up and coming theater company?

Hopefully, they'll never get too big for their britches and not actively solicit audience feedback and opinion.

Or not make us laugh hysterically. Or not feel the weight of a new work.

Cause ain't nobody got time for that kind for theater company.