"Indulgences" Makes the Sale

by Jana Pollack, New Rep Reviewer

In Chris Craddock's farcical comedy "Indulgences," the issue at hand is free will. In an unidentified kingdom, a salesman is at work, looking for people who have sinned. His job is to sell indulgences, essentially get-out-of-purgatory (but not for free) passes, and his employer is that ineffable higher power, God.

The characters he encounters are going through various ordeals. There are two men who have decided that their lives are so mundane and similar that no one will notice if they simply switch places - and so they give it a try. There is a pair of gay lovers, one of whom happens to be a prince, who are intent on killing the king and establishing a kingdom of acceptance. These two situations are intertwined, and the salesman is caught dead in the middle of both, finding himself desperate to use his God-given powers to control the situations and achieve the best possible outcome.

What he must learn is that free will is what is most important - that each person, bestowed with his own unique soul, must act according to his or her individual intentions, and that this is how things will work out for the best.

Kate Warner's production of this new comedy works hard to achieve a high level of intensity. In the very first piece of action, the salesman stands over a fountain and forcefully splashes water over his face while loud, pumping music plays. After a minute or two, he looks up at the audience, grins, and says, "Let's do this." It is quite an introduction. While the rest of the play is very entertaining, it doesn't quite live up to this beginning. The result of the attempted intensity is that the play's rhythm is jumpy, moving from vignette to vignette with the aid of many dramatic “lights down” moments. This technique is often a vehicle for laughter, but its repeated use makes it difficult to really settle into the story.

However, as usual at New Rep, "Indulgences" is very well-acted, and employs some very gifted comedians. A particular standout is Neil Casey in the role of Man #2; as in last season's "Picasso at Lapin Agile," his facial expressions are a constant source of hilarity. Ed Hoopman, too, in the role of Malcolm, consistently demonstrates perfect comic timing.

This production is not without its problems (mostly the aforementioned pace), and the script, while quite funny, does not offer a unique concept. It does offer laughter, though, and quite a lot of it, as well as the chance to see some talented actors at work. "Indulgences" is ideal for a mid-winter night at the theatre.

"Indulgences": Good and Plenary

by Jack Craib, New Rep Reviewer

Bless me, reader, for I have grinned. Depending on your tolerance for painful puns, you might also find yourself amused by the unconventional goings-on at New Rep’s production of out-there playwright Chris Craddock’s “Indulgences”. The title refers to that regrettable period of several centuries when some clergy in the Catholic Church were guilty of literally selling indulgences, which were either partial or full (“plenary”) remissions of purgatorial punishment for sin. While not as infamous as the Inquisition or the Crusades, it was a lamentable period that led to the protestations of Martin Luther.
Happily, New Rep needs neither absolution nor contrition. This show, Artistic Director Kate Warner’s second directorial effort (after the season opener, “Mr. Roberts”), is impeccably paced and immaculately performed. Beginning with the rumpled character of Salesman (Benjamin Evett in full “Glengarry Glen Ross” mode), then moving on to the Pinteresque Man 1 (Joel Colodner) and Man 2 (Neil A. Casey), and further still to the Machiavellian plotting by Advisor 1 (Leigh Barrett in an atypical non-singing role) and the rest of the cast, this company need feel no guilt about their part in the commission of this production. Mention should also be made of the perfect precision of lighting and sound, both essential to the vitality of this piece.
If there is fault to be found in “Indulgences”, it lies in the author’s sometimes overwrought writing. Described in the program as a “fractured fairy tale” a la “Rocky and Bullwinkle”, it has both the sublimely weird wackiness and the grossly sophomoric crudity of those fondly remembered tales from one’s youth. In both content and context, playwright Craddock straddles the fence between brilliant theater of the absurd and overcooked Hasty Pudding. The test is whether a theatergoer truly believes or goes roguely heretic; the style and level of humor will appeal more to some, less to others.
Craddock’s influences are as diverse as Mamet, Shakespeare and Rocky the Squirrel. After a lengthy exposition devoid of much overt hilarity, most will probably find the rest of the tale a worthwhile retreat from reality, especially in the second act when the indescribable (or as God puts it in Her off-stage proclamations, ineffable) is translated into several alternative resolutions, not unlike “City of Angels”, “Mystery of Edwin Drood”, and especially Pirandello. The specifics defy synopsis: suspicion, treachery, cross-dressing. Suffice it to say that this is a work that is unabashedly political, and a gay play in both senses of the word.
If you’re in need of a respite from the harshness of everyday life, then get thee to this punnery. If your preferred cup of theatrical tea tends toward the outrageous, you won’t regret this pilgrimage.

Two men walk into a bar...

By Frank Furnari, New Rep Reviewer

A man is in a bar having a drink and a salesman working for God looks him over and notes “you have sinned.” The salesman offers to sell him an indulgence. Yes, the Catholic way to hedge your bets for getting into heaven and yes, it's legitimate. This begins the play Indulgences, a fractured and funny fairy tale, by Chris Caddock.

We are introduced to two men, simply known as Man 1 and Man 2 who realize that they are very alike in many ways. The two men decide that they are so much alike that they could switch lives and no one would be the wiser, as one of the men puts it "Anyone can be anyone." Next we meet Malcolm, the prince and presumptive heir along with his lover, Fleance (who both happen to speak a sort of fake-Shakespearean English). The couple are plotting to kill the King so that they can be together. Finally, there are the two royal advisors who know about the prince's gay lover, the regicide plot and are trying to scheme so they can gain more power for themselves. It seems confusing as I write it, and is hard to give it justice, but it didn't matter at the time. Indulgences is a very funny mix of familiar tales, great lines, and quick wit. It is a sort of fairy tale meets Stoppard's Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead with a bit of Eugene Ionesco thrown in for good measure (if that makes sense). There is a message that Craddock is trying to convey through the laughter about free will and gay marriage. At a few points, it does seem that the author is trying to emphasize his point a little too much, but since it’s done in such an amusing way he seems to get away with it.

Kate Warner directs a tight production with a stellar cast. While I could say good things about the entire I cast, I will limit myself to a few comments. Benjamin Evett is great as the salesman, trying to broker deals and in conversations with God about free will and God’s ineffable plan. The always-wonderful Leigh Barrett is very funny in this production as the scheming advisor with a facial mole that seems to change location every scene. Neil A. Casey is a comic genius as always in his role as the second man, his subtle moves and facial expressions add depth and more laughs to his performance. If you are looking for an off-beat but funny night of theatre, Indulgences will not disappoint.

Indulgences

“Indulgences” is a hard play to describe. It is, indeed, a fractured fairy tale, albeit one that is about the meaning of free will. The play takes place both in the present and in medieval times, with the characters anachronistically sliding from one period to the other. A medieval Prince walks into a bar and orders some mead. A disheveled man in a suit goes to a medieval court and is accepted without comment. The Prince and his male lover plot to kill the King, who stands in the way of their love. Two courtiers plot to kill the Prince, seeking more power for themselves. The King plots to kill a modern-day engineer with whom he has exchanged places. You get the idea.

The factor that connects the characters is the disheveled man (who lies passed out on the stage floor while the audience takes their seats). The man is a salesman for a higher power, and needs to fill his sales quota. He is selling “indulgences.” Like those granted by the Catholic Church, these indulgences are “get-out-of-jail-free” cards that allow sinners to avoid Purgatory when their time comes.

The Salesman is thrilled to find willing customers among the would-be murderers. Then comes the complication: he begins to like his customers and wants to stop them from murdering each other even though that will kill his sales. He consults with his boss, God. She is not sympathetic. She tells the Salesman that the players have to be governed by free will, not divine intervention. This, She explains, is part of her great ineffable plan. “Ineffable plan,” responds the Salesman, “what kind of management directive is that?”

The play takes off after that with farcical twists and turns that are too good to give away here. The acting, and the actors’ comic timing, are superb, causing explosive laughter from the audience. Although all of the actors are excellent, some deserve special mention. Ed Hoopman, who plays the Prince, steals every scene he is in. Neil Casey, the-man-who-would-be-king, is hysterical; you simply cannot ignore him when he is onstage. Leigh Barrett is very, very funny as a scheming courtier. Benjamin Evett, the Salesman, is also top-notch, but his acting was less compelling in the first 20 minutes of the play. I think, however, that this was due to the script. At times, playwright Chris Craddock was a bit heavy-handed in conveying his message about ontology and free will. This is a minor quibble, though. “Indulgences” is a fun, enjoyable play that will leave you with a smile on your face. Go see it.

Loading In

Yesterday was a big day for the cast and crew of Indulgences! The set was loaded in and some staff members took a field trip to the theater to watch the magic happen. Here is a picture of the beautiful set brought to you by scenic designer Peter Colao:

Indulgences has a few more days of rehearsals and then it starts performing on the Charles Mosesian stage this Sunday! You won't want to miss Chris Craddock's farcical comedy inspired by the fractured fairy tales. You only have until February 6th to see Indulgences so make sure you get your tickets today!

See you at the theater!

What are your boots filled with?

Salesman: Hey man, fill your boots. I just need to get through the wedding okay? -INDULGENGES

So what does “fill your boots” really mean? We have had several discussions in rehearsal about the phrase "fill you boots," but no one actually knew what its meaning was. So, we looked it up the other day and then the cast came up with some great phrases about what they thought it meant! Here's the favorite:

Steve Barkhimer (Advisor 2/Bartender): "You can drink champagne out of my boot, but make sure you fill it all the way!"

So the question is, what would you fill your boots with?

And in case you were wondering, here is the definition of "fill your boots" according to urban dictionary:

Fill your boots

1. Invite another to help themselves to their optimal capacity or
2. Attempt a difficult task or ordeal.

1. HE: Are these sweets free?
SHE: Fill your boots.

2. HE: I'm going over there to crack on to Naomi Campbell!
SHE: Fill your boots!