Kalamazoo’s winter plays prove Durang absurd, Mamet mallard-dramatic

Those who entered the dungeon theatre on Friday night at 9pm were treated to a pair of intriguing one-act plays, David Mamet’s “The Duck Variations,” directed by Terry Cangelosi, and Chris Durang’s “Sister Mary Ignatius Explains it All for You,” directed by Sarah Ludwinski. Starting with “Duck Variations,” An old man, sporting a cane and clad in plaid pantaloons, hobbles onto a stage reminiscent of Central Park to take a seat on a quaint park bench. Another gray-haired man arrives at the same bench, and the two shake hands in greeting. The two then begin to ruminate about the world around them, meandering about the stage exchanging insights on subjects such as sailboats and the lives of waterfowl, rife with allegory. They share moments of blooming friendship, growing tension, good nature and steadfast principle in genuine elderly dialect. Cangelosi certainly understood how to portray the quick wit and foggy memory of these two characters, and the student actors reflected these roles with skill, humor, and sincerity. However, this conversation holds little structure. A one-act dialogue play should balance the spontaneity of a natural conversation with the careful structure of a good script, yet their conversation seems to meander as much as they do about the stage. They discuss the natural relationships between ducks, herons, and pigeons, how death is a part of a duck’s life, and how some ducks learn to fly earlier than others, yet the allegory seems to have no overarching goal; they merely bring subjects up as they come to mind. While this lack of structure effectively demonstrates the nature of everyday conversation, one cannot help but wonder why they sat in the dark for 45 minutes to see old men have an everyday conversation about ducks.
Sister Mary Ignatius is pleasingly contrary to “duck variations,” opening with “Mouse” Courtois robed in full nun’s habit, rapping a diagram of the various levels of the afterlife with a ruler while explaining the complex conditions required to enter them upon death. She then reads from a set of notecard questions the “class” submitted (making sure to ominously skip the “if god is all-powerful, why does he allow evil in the world?” question with an angry eyebrow to the audience). Her monologue veers pointedly preposterous almost instantly, and the audience laughs time and again at these utter absurdities that nearly half our nation believes. Courtois takes on the mannerisms of the catholic nun surprisingly well, the peculiar intonations and inflections of this strange species flowing from her pursed lips like holy water. Her 7-year old minion, Jillian Reese, is hilariously apt as well, trotting onto stage to answer catechism questions and be rewarded with cookies from Sister Ignatius, much like a trained dolphin would be rewarded a fish. A few slightly disturbed graduates of Sister Ignatius’ tutelage enter midway through the play and put on excellent performances.
While Sister Mary Ignatius is truly hilarious at the beginning, it turns out to be absurdist anti-catholic propaganda, and at this point the production feels like a play set in a generation where atheism had just begun to be popular, and I can’t decide whether to write this off as another playwright’s coming to terms with religion or as something doubtful Christians should see.