Down versus Pound

It was really too beautiful to spend the evening indoors - 77 degrees in mid-October - unless love was involved.

As it turned out, it was, but I didn't know that. I thought I was getting dinner and a play.

Given the bodacious weather, I was hardly surprised when I arrived at Magpie to find only one couple in attendance. I took a seat at the bar to await my friend's arrival and discuss my theater plans with the bartender.

Although he'd never been to Richmond Triangle Players, he used to work with their bartender, a woman I've bought wine from on many an occasion. Funny how there's never more than three degrees of separation from anyone in this town.

Right on time, my friend arrived (amuse bouche: easter egg radish slice with golden raisin chutney and carrot top) and we lost no time ordering so we could discuss theater without our mouths being full.

My only regret was that he invited me to go with him to see "Book of Mormon," a show I could never afford, and I'll be out of town that weekend. Drat the luck.

Once dinner came, we focused on that.

Not that anyone needs to eat their sweetbreads chicken-fried, but as long as they were offering, why not? These came with turnip hash, pickled relish and house hot sauce and I also shared a side of roasted brussels sprouts with my friend as he ate his huntsman's stew, which smelled divine.

Unfortunately, we had so little time left that dessert wasn't an option so we left for the theater to see 5th Wall Theater's staged reading of John Anastasi's new play, "Transition," without my sweet tooth being satisfied.

Instead, I sublimated it when the reading began with a sex scene between two women, one of whom came noisily moments after the action began. Unfortunately, her partner hadn't come (or enjoyed the strap-on she'd been using), causing her to lament, "I'd rather you went downtown instead of taking me to Pound Town."

Hmm, "Pound Town." That's a new one on me.

"Transition" was the story of a man born in a woman's body who takes 28 years to decide he needs to transition to the male he's always been. The problem is that his partner, the love of his life, is a lesbian who wants a female, not male, partner.

When he tells his mother about his planned hormone treatments and surgery, she's forced to come to terms with what she always knew but never acknowledged: her daughter is her son. "You haven't even started the male hormones and already you're acting just like your father!" Jacqueline Jones as the mother said to a big laugh.

Ditto the laughs when the subject of genital reconstruction surgery came up. "That glorious organ with the head but no brain." Ah, yes, we know the one.

But the most unexpectedly funny moment came when Melissa Johnston Price (as the doctor planning to do the surgery) explained all that was involved, right down to creation of the brain-less head. "So that's it in the nutshell," she said before turning to look at the audience with a classic WTF? look on her face. "I never saw that coming."

The audience laughed long and hard at her reaction to the line in the script.

Danya/Daniel, the woman transitioning, was played superbly by Eva DeVirgilis, who tries to convince her true love Addison (played by Sara Heifetz) that even if she has the surgery, they'll still love each other just the same, pulling out Shakespeare's "A rose by another name would smell as sweet" to prove her point.

Addison is having none of it. "Male hormones do not smell good," she retorts, miserable at the idea of having a male partner when she's madly in love with a woman.

But the bigger issue wasn't about smell or hormones or any of that. The play asks us why do we love the person we do? Is it their heart, their soul, their personality, their body?

The play was terribly poignant in parts, especially in a scene that takes place five years after surgery and the couple's split, when Daniel runs into the doctor who tries to assure him he'll get over the loss of his true love. He corrects her.

"Those who've had a real loss know that it never gets better. You just get better at living with it." I'd like to see someone put that in a fortune cookie.

The play ended ambiguously, leaving the outcome to the viewer's imagination. Some saw a happy ending and others didn't. Sort of like life.

But the biggest question remained. Could you still have real love if one of the people changes?

During the talkback with the playwright, director Carol Piersol and cast, the audience had a lot of questions and a lot of opinions on what needed to be changed and not changed in the script.

That's a major reason I look forward to this kind of reading. Part of its purpose is to provide feedback to the author and another part is to gauge audience reaction to the idea of seeing the play fully produced.

As an opinionated woman and a theater lover, I find it immensely satisfying to have a chance to provide that kind of input.

Playwright Anastasi told us he'd spent a great deal of time talking to a doctor who does this kind of surgery in order to get the finer points right. "I still take a lot of criticism as a heterosexual writing about the trans experience. But, Stephen King, did he kill all those people?"

I think not. Clearly, the man had a sense of humor.

What he did make clear was that what he had written was, more than anything else, a love story. By the end, Daniel has fully transitioned and has finally gotten what he's wanted his whole life. But in the process, he's lost the only person he ever needed. He's alone but acknowledges that that's his choice.

"He chooses not to have someone else if he can't have the love of his life, "Anastasi told us to wrap things up.

And that, if you ask me, makes it a hell of a love story.

Here's To the Girls Who Stay Smart

It was a theater lover's wet dream.

The preview and party for 5th Wall, the new production company from Carol Piersol and B.C. Maupin, was a great big celebration at the Hippodrome (how convenient for me) showcasing some of the major talent in this town.

Walking in, there were plenty of familiar faces - the hat, the neighbors, the critic - and before long we invited ourselves to join the table of a handsome couple we did not know.

By the time we finished introductions, the show was starting.

Host Eva DeVirgilis began by saying, "It's fun to be out on a Wednesday night, huh? Feels kind of naughty."

As someone who's out every night of the week, it feels kind of right to me.

The program was a satisfying mix of theatrical scenes and musical numbers, the cast changing up for each one. The crowd ate it all up.

In the first act, songs alternated with scenes from 5th Wall's last season, so I recognized the adoration humor of "Patti Issues," the excruciating tension of "Gidion's Knot," the touchy issues of "Race."

Singer Susan Greenbaum came out with her guitar and smiled, saying, "I learned this from my theater friends," and tossed her red scarf over her shoulder. Saying, "Despite the fact that it's twelve degrees in here..." and boy, was she right about that, she launched into "Summertime."

Seeing a scene from "Breast in Show" made me sorry I hadn't seen it.

Eva provided some humor with a monologue about how directors are always expecting her take her clothes off. "I'm an actress, too, you know," she insisted before being called over by the pianist, revealing that the pants she was wearing had no fabric over her butt cheeks.

It got her lots of laughs and we got a great view of her lovely backside.

Georgia Rogers Farmer came out looking demure with her blond hair and sweet face and began singing a slow burn cabaret style version of "Baby Got Back," so far removed from the original in tone and tempo that I'd bet some people didn't even recognize it.

It was fabulous beyond words on a night with many stellar performances.

As if her languorous version wasn't enough, she complemented the singing with some magnificent ass-shaking, twitching, hip rolling and just about any other possible bottom motion.

When she finished my friend learned over and told me that after her divorce, her husband had sent her a copy of that song because he'd missed his baby's back.

True story.

Next came Matt Shofner killing it on "Wig in a Box," but then every theatergoer in town knows he's chomping at the bit to start rehearsals for "Hedwig and the Angry Inch" this Fall.

When Debra Wagoner came out to close the first act, she walked up to the mic stand and looked up. "Every time, it's too tall," she joked.

Matt came rushing over to adjust it. "A diva doesn't move her own mic." More truth.

"Also, we need a clean-up on chair five," she cracked, pointing to where she'd just left.

Drink in hand, her version of "The Ladies Who Lunch" was hilarious, powerful and pointed.

Over intermission, I chatted with our table mates, unexpectedly discovering that we shared some common history.

You never know when you'll meet someone who's experienced the same difficult thing you have.

The handsome and big-voiced Russell Rowland did a great job with "Being Alive," pulling everyone back from the bar to their tables.

The second act began with Eva introduced as local actor extraordinaire, Scott Wichmann, and she came out dressed like him, moving like him and even talking like him, to the great amusement of the crowd.

Introducing "a woman who needs no introduction," Carol Piersol came out ("Thanks, Scotty!" to Eva) to start the preview portion of the evening with scenes from upcoming plays.

"The Lyons" provided some of the funniest lines of the evening around a dying Jewish father talking to his adult children and wife while in the hospital.

Mother: Everyone feels uncomfortable when they're intimate
Father: Your mother used to vomit.

"The Human Terrain" featured the always impressive Molly Hood in a story of an anthropologist embedded with a combat unit, something that apparently happens in real life.

D.C. actress Felicia Curry (currently appearing in "The Color Purple") came out in what had to be the best shoes of the entire evening and sang, "Whatever Happened to My Part?" from "Spamalot," subbing in lines such as, "This is one unhappy diva, Billy Christopher has deceived her."

She raved about her time in Richmond, singing "Get Here" as a love song to our city, then doing a duet with Katrinah Carol Lewis of "For Good" that had them holding hands and tearing up as they traded "love letters" to Richmond.

But when she really brought down the house was with "Random Black Girl," singing, scatting and strutting as "just the random black girl singing the soul," while the crowd clapped along.

Everyone who'd performed tonight came back on stage for a sing-it-to-the-rafters version of "Seasons of Love" from "Rent" that was goose bump worthy.

It had been an all-star coming out party for Richmond's newest production company.

Eva had the last (hilarious) words with, "Join us tomorrow night as we do it all again with a gender-reversed take on tonight's program directed by B.C. Maupin."

If only.

But if they did, my money is on Matt wearing those epic shoes of Felicia's.

Don't Stop Believing

Theater is my temple and my religion and my act of faith. Strangers sit in a room together and believe together~ Harvey Fierstein

And sometimes that believing gives you a sense of history retold...or foreshadowed.

The Jewish Community Center was the venue for guest director Carol Piersol's production of Israel Horovitz' "Lebensraum," an incredibly powerful piece that had three strong actors plating 50+ roles using a wooden wall of props over 90 minutes.

The premise was both simple and far-fetched: what if a future German chancellor invited six million Jews to come to Germany with the promise of citizenship and full benefits as a way to assuage their sea of guilt for the Jews killed during the Holocaust?

The actors - Stephen Ryan, Matt Shofner, Sara Heifetz- were mesmerizing, shape-shifting from character to character to narrator and back again, sometimes in the course of two sentences.

Simple props, voice inflections and accents helped define characters as the story unfolded.

The chancellor's "project homecoming" is shown eliciting very different reactions. A concentration camp survivor wants to go back for revenge. An out of work Massachusetts dockworker wants to move his wife and son to Germany. Israelis fear for the safety of their people.

In one brilliant scene, Stephen portrayed two men having a conversation, putting on different hats, voices and demeanors to convey the decidedly different essence of each.

There weren't a lot of lighter scenes, but one involved the arrival of a Jewish, married, gay French couple (played to limp-wristed perfection by Matt and Stephen in berets) who want to claim their citizenship. Needless to say, they are not what the Germans had been expecting.

Sara managed to play both the non-Jewish wife of the dockworker as well as the teen-aged Jewish girl with whom her 15-year old son soon falls for and made both believable.

Their blossoming romance was the sweetest part of the film as the two learned that great loves are made not of similarities but of differences.

Him: You think I'm funny?
Her: You are funny!
Him: Then we most definitely need to kiss if you laugh at my jokes.

Piersol's direction was fast-paced so something was happening every moment, from the Boston couple becoming local celebrities to the German workers organizing to protest the jobs being taken from them for the new Jewish arrivals to Israeli activists arriving to become citizens in hopes of protecting their people.

Always someone was speaking, either in character or as narrator explaining the action. After a while, it felt eerily like a live action newsreel unfolding upsetting events even while intellectually, we knew we were watching fiction.

Hands down, it was some of the most powerful theater I've seen due in equal measures to Horovitz's story and completely compelling performances by the trio bringing it to life.

With the added weight of so much of tonight's audience being Jewish, it felt like we were watching something visceral and unforgettable.

My only regret was that I went alone so I didn't have anyone to discuss it with afterwards.

I was meeting a friend for a late dinner and conversation, though, just not about the play. I got to the Roosevelt just as the dinner rush was winding down and ordered a glass of Pollack Rose while bartender T. made sure I'd be at the next DJ night.

A DJ from my neighborhood record store playing late night tunes? Hell, yes.

With soul music uncharacteristically playing, the vibe tonight was slow and mellow, a terrific backdrop to meet up with my friend and find out what she'd been up to.

When the subject of my upcoming birthday arose, she posed a question. "How much technology can you stand?"

I think we all know the answer to that. I use a computer daily and won't own a cell phone until they pry the land line from my cold, dead hands.

"Have you heard of pagers?" she joked because she's so hilarious.

She had skirt steak for dinner while I chose pork belly, little neck clams and potatoes in kimchee broth, a spicy and satisfying bowlful that carried me through our discussion of mothers and daughters, double dragon and conspiracy theories.

Meanwhile I heard my name - first and last- called and there sat a recording engineer I know from the neighborhood, enjoying a cocktail with friends and are clearly surprised to see me somewhere other than Jackson Ward.

Which just goes to prove that he doesn't get out much or he'd know better.

Don't Cry for Me, Doll

My day went from the river to Broadway.

Driving east to visit my parents meant seeing fields of diminishing snow the closer I got to the Rapphannock. If it weren't for my being completely over winter, it might have been lovely.

Shortly after arriving, my Dad left for the barbershop in Kilmarnock, half an hour and a world away, a place where he hears the latest from the locals and returns three hours later looking exactly the same as before the haircut.

Meanwhile, my mother and I have discussed everything from family drama to personal grooming in his absence.

By the time I return from the river, I have just enough turnaround time to get cleaned up and meet a friend for dinner and a play.

Like me, he's an avid theater-goer and on tonight's agenda was a trip to Richmond Triangle Players to see Carol Piersol's newest production, "Patti Issues."

It's like RTP says, if they don't do it, who would?

A one man monologue, the charge of carrying the entire show rested on Billy Christopher Maupin's shoulders which were more than up to the task of portraying Ben Rimalower from age four to adulthood.

Playing multiple voices - his parents, grandparents, and the diva herself - he told the tale of a kid whose life is made all the more difficult when his promiscuous doctor of a dad comes out and divorces his mother.

With a great deal of humor and self-introspection, he reflects on being in therapy three times by the age of ten and a half, but also about how fabulous the first two seasons of "Dynasty" were because Joan Collins still had long hair.

So there was pathos but there were also many moments of hilarious commentary by a character who knew young he was gay and was fine with that.

As his father spirals out of control, attempting suicide and generally being the poorest sort of role model for the boy, at fourteen he retreats into the world of actress Patti LuPone, listening endlessly to the Broadway soundtrack to "Evita."

"Like Scarlett O'Hara and Joan Collins, she was every ballsy woman I ever loved." Only a gay man can sell that line so sincerely.

Eventually he gets a chance to work with her on a revival of "Sweeney Todd," which only reinforces how Maupin as Ben becomes even more devoted to Patti because now he's around the real thing. "I want to inhale her. I want to memorize her."

When she asks him to come by her hotel to help her rehearse, she suggests 8:00, which he deems perfect because it gives him enough time to go home and change the pants in which he just shat.

The play, written from Rimalower's own experiences, was simply staged with a stool, a chair and a table for a glass of water, with Maupin moving around the space alternately like a caged animal and a guileless child.

Piersol's taut direction ensured that the audience stayed engaged every moment and Maupin's big voice perfectly captured snippets of LuPone songs as well as her over-the-top diva way of speaking - everyone is "darling" or "doll."

With no intermission, Maupin's free-wheeling energy and a sweet and sometimes melancholy story about growing up and idol worship, my companion and I were completely charmed by a very different play than what we'd expected.

Avid theater- goer bliss ensues when a ballsy woman directs a ballsy man in a fiercely funny and poignant play, right here in river city.

You might say it rates right up there with when Joan Collins had long hair on "Dynasty."

Mind Racing and Blown

If you're the least bit curious about the state of Richmond's theater scene, run, do not walk to see "Race."

Your mind will be blown and you will leave wishing you had a bigger brain to process what you just experienced.

My hired mouth and I had dinner with a girlfriend before I drove home, parked the car and walked over to Virginia Rep Center for Carol Piersol and the African American Repertory Theater's production of David Mamet's "Race."

As much as I adore good theater, I'd only seen one Mamet play produced before and that was 1999's "Boston Marriage," which I saw in Philadelphia back in the mid-aughts.

"Race" was written ten years later and boldly delves into racial differences in processing shame and guilt through the eyes of one white and two black characters who work in a law office and are defending a white man accused of raping a black woman.

An elegant and eloquent set greeted us in the Theater Gym and our usher warned us that the play ran 80 minutes, no intermission.

Fortuitously, I'd already made a pit stop.

Ten minutes of intense Mamet-speak dialog in and it was obvious why there could be no break in the action; the audience was already as enmeshed in the machinations of the story as the actors.

There were so many levels to the play: the black to black conversations, the white to black exchanges, the male to female, male to male, accused to defenders, all within the bigger context of the law and played by an all-star Richmond cast.

Billy Christopher Maupin and dl Hopkins as the two lawyers who've recently taken in a young, black female associate, play off each other with post-modern respect tempered by acknowledgement of wholly different cultural experience due to their racial differences.

Causing problems for them and their client is Katrinah Carol Lewis, who brings her own baggage to the case by being black and female, meaning she presumes their white, male client is guilty from the get-go.

The questionable client role was handled oh-so capably by Joe Inscoe, the focus of everyone's attention because he claimed the sex had been consensual, not rape.

With a Mamet play, dialog is always king ("I think all people are stupid. I don't think black people are exempt.") and provocative; between unfinished sentences, people talking over each other and as much politically incorrect dialog as could be crammed into 80 minutes, the play never let up for a second.

Twice the lights dimmed to indicate that we were going from one time of day to another and truly, it was only for those few seconds that your brain got a moment's reprieve from processing so much.

It was wildly stimulating in a way that reminds you of the wonder of live theater and the headiness of being fully mentally engaged.

When the play abruptly ended, it was with more questions than when it began and not so much as a whiff of answer in the air.

The audience was stunned and thrilled at the same time for what we'd just experienced.

My friend and I stood up but the woman at the end of our row was already asking us questions about the play.

We stood discussing it with her for about five minutes before taking our talk-back to the lobby where we found a cluster of astounded people ready to talk.

"I want there to be  a second act!" an actress lamented. "I wanna know more."

"Damn that Mamet! He throws so much at you and doesn't give you a hint of how things might go," another woman said.

"Shakespeare does the same thing; look at "King Lear" or "Merchant of Venice," someone said. "Besides..."

A half dozen or so strangers stood there for the next fifteen minutes talking about the play and the issues it raised about the court system, race relations, sexual relations and how everyone brings their own baggage to them.

It was less than an hour and a half of superbly-produced theater and I can almost bet the farm that everyone who sees it will continue to question, re-examine and return to thoughts of "Race" for weeks to come.

You know how cities choose a book and everyone reads it (Richmond Reads or something like that?) so that there can be discussion groups all over town about it?

I  make a motion that we have a Richmond Plays and everyone goes to see "Race."

Besides the thought-provoking discussion topics such a thing would raise, it would serve an even greater cultural good.

It would make a theater lover out of every single person who saw it.

A Little Sugar in my Bowl

I woke up happy this morning.

You have to love a morning when a guy asks, "Will you marry me today?"

Granted, I didn't know him and I was walking down the street when he said, it, but I take my proposals where ever they come from.

Tonight I took my evening right here in Jackson Ward at the Hippodrome Theater.

The founders of the Firehouse Theater Project were presenting a celebration of (almost) 20 years of provocative Richmond theater and as a long-time Firehouse supporter and theater lover, how better to spend a Tuesday night?

Pru joined me for what turned out to be a big, old party interspersed with songs and scenes from former FTP productions.

The bar was mobbed when we arrived, so we patiently waited our turn before heading to the food table for spicy crabcakes, meatballs and, my favorite, mini-chicken and waffles.

A guy in the buffet line told me he'd never heard of the classic sweet and salty shift meal, so I gave him a brief history as we scooped up food.

I saw lots of familiar faces - the beer and theater loving couple, the Listening Room alum as excited as I am about the upcoming show at the Michaux House, even said hi to Carol Piersol herself, the reason for tonight's celebration.

We took seats in the second row, behind the all-important founders who were in the front row and did our mingling from there.

The show began with host Eva asking for those who'd performed at FTP to clap (lots of applause). Then for those who'd attended an FTP production to clap (even more applause).

Then she asked those who've gone in to Lowe's to use the bathroom to clap and that got the largest applause of all.

Appropriately, the first performer was Scott Wichmann, doing a song from "Bat Boy," the first musical FTP ever did, and setting the bar very high.

We saw a very funny scene from Harry the Hat's "Persistence of Memory," about one of the Reynolds' execs trying to get Salvador Dali (complete with lobster phone) to create a statue out of aluminum for Monument Avenue back in the '60s.

True story.

A scene from David Mamet's "Businessmen" seemed an especially good choice given that tonight's show was a benefit for Carol Piersol's upcoming production of Mamet's "Race."

Desiree Roots killed it during a rendition of  "I Need a Little Sugar in My Bowl," from "The Death of Bessie Smith," one of two Edward Albee shows we saw tonight.

Tired of bein' lonely, tired of bein' blue
Wished I had some good man to tell my troubles to

The audience was testifying right along with her.

More Mamet came courtesy of the classic "Glengarry Glen Ross" with d.l. Hopkins effortlessly tossing off lines like, "This place gets robbed, they'll come looking for me. Why? Because I probably did it."

Jacob Pennington broke my heart with a scene from "Dog Sees God: Confessions of a Teenage Blockhead," about his beagle Snoopy being put to sleep after killing Woodstock.

I can handle many things, but not dead beagle scenes. For me, it'll always be too soon for that.

Matt Shofner brought everybody back up, though with an hysterical and well done version of "Suppertime" ("the very best time of the day," he sang. Amen to that) from "You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown.

Man, can that boy sing, as if I didn't already know that from the Ghost Light afterparty.

Sam Shepard's "Curse of the Starving Class" was typical Shepard-like bleak, involving jail, a lamb and an actor in his boxers.

In a related note, host Eva then came out in a nude body stocking, complete with an abundant pubic hair wig. aimlessly twirling strands of hair around her finger as she said, "The Firehouse has never shied away from nudity onstage."

Harry "The Hat" Kollatz spoke next, brilliantly telling the saga of a 1998 FTP production.

Recalling executive director Carol calling him for help, he admitted to wondering why.

"I am the Chauncey Gardiner of this outfit. I have no practical skills," he said, cracking up the entire room.

His story ended up being about how the 100+-year firehouse had been purchased through the generosity of unexpected benefactors.

Katrinah Carol Lewis did "Out Tonight" from "Rent," a show Harry had said could have run forever it was so well-received.

Let's go out tonight
I have to go out tonight
You wanna play?
Let's run away
We won't be back before it's New Year's Day
Take me out tonight

The scene from "Four Dogs and a Bone" had an actress coming on to a writer, resulting in lines like, "I used to be romantic before I joined the writers' guild."

John Patrick Shanley's play was full of stellar lines. "I can't even tell you're drunk except by what you say.

Even better, "I hope I remember this conversation in the morning, not the gist of it, but the details."

Scott came back to do a song he'd planned to do at FTP's 2008 cabaret but which had not made the cut.

"Entering Marion" was ostensibly a travel song except he kept entering towns with girls' names, eventually becoming the kind of trampy traveler who entered places like Lawrence and Lowell before regretting it later at the motel.

His performance was terrifically nuanced, right down to hand gestures of shifting gears in the car.

Watching "Eurydice," it was striking how spot on the cast was.

The guy next to me leaned in and observed, "It's amazing, they're doing these roles years after they originally did and not overacting a bit. That's quite an accomplishment."

I couldn't have said it better myself.

Desiree Roots' medley from "Dessa Rose" was so big-voiced and moving that I saw a few people wiping tears away by the end of it.

I recall seeing the second Albee play of the evening, "The Goat, Or Who is Sylvia?" but you never really forget a play about a man having an affair with a goat, do you?

The show ended with the inimitable Matt coming back out, this time with a long, blond wig, full face makeup and open-toed pumps on.

As soon as I saw him, I remembered the other night at the Ghost Light, host Maggie had come onstage with a bulging bag, saying to Matt, "Here, you said to bring your wigs."

Now I knew why.

With scene-stealing know-how, he sang "Midnight Radio" from "Hedwig and the Angry Inch," prancing around the stage, his big voice reaching to the rafters.

By the time he got to the chorus ending of "Lift up your hands, lift up your hands," people in the crowd led by a glowing Carol, were doing just that and a procession began of people dancing toward the stage, all arms in the air.

You know you're doing alright
So hold on to each other
You gotta hold on tonight

Watching a roomful of theater performers and theater lovers gather together to celebrate a company that changed the Richmond theater scene for the better was mighty impressive.

I hope I remember this performance, not just in the morning, but years from now, and not the gist of it, but the details.

Truly, it was a lovely thing to behold.

School of the Intense

Nothing like a little death in the afternoon.

A friend and I made the trek out Patterson Avenue to the West End to the Hatt Theater to see "Gidion's Knot," an award-winning play about which I knew nothing.

Walking in to the theater felt like walking into a schoolroom, complete with school desks in front of the audience's seats.

What we were too slow to realize was that those desks were seats for the show, instead ending up in the back row of the tiny theater.

The two-actor play dealt with a parent-teacher conference after the woman's son was suspended.

Both actresses played their roles to the hilt, one inhabiting the distraught and angry mother and the other the reluctant, upset teacher responsible for the 5th grader's suspension.

Over the course of the next 80 minutes, we were caught up in issues of bullying, homosexuality, suicide, the responsibility of parenting and how much creativity is too much.

As if that weren't enough, there was also the unbearable discussion of putting a beloved pet down.

Honestly, it was far more than I'd been prepared to deal with on a muggy, Sunday afternoon.

Fortunately, there were occasional moments of levity, albeit dark-tinged, serving as much-needed release valves.

When the teacher admits to having changed careers after years in advertising, the mother shoots back unsympathetically, "Aw, did you turn 40 and have a midlife crisis?"

Likewise, her caustic observation, "You're not a liar, which is surprising given your background in advertising."

By the end of the play, I was mentally exhausted by the heartbreak that had been the subject of their "discussion," almost as if it had happened to me.

Just like the characters, I felt wrung out by the fever pitch of the unresolved situations that had been sustained throughout the play as we applauded two stellar performances.

And isn't that what really good theater is supposed to do?