Troupe enlists audience in hilarity


By Cinthia Ritchie
Daily News Theater Reviewer

(Published: October 16, 2001)

I wasn't in the mood to laugh.

So when the members of Scared Scriptless assembled on Cyrano's bare stage Saturday, I wasn't impressed. Six men and one woman dressed in black pants and black or white T-shirts. I almost yawned.

Then a pretty, dark-haired woman sat down on the floor and pantomimed shaving her legs. After that, the actors switched places. Someone new stepped in, and then someone else. From shaving a pig to shoveling manure to flossing one's, um, behind, the actors expanded the scene until it became a ludicrous jumble of nonsense.

It was ridiculous and meaningless and terribly, terribly funny.

I wasn't the only one laughing. The full-house audience roared, stomped its feet and let out boisterous cheers.

The actors were equally enthusiastic. Playing off lines with an ease that spoke of a well-conditioned familiarity, Tim Driscoll, Jason Martin, Ross Emerson, Christina Weber, Randall Peck, Morgan Hobkirk and Lou Nathanson appeared to genuinely enjoy each other's company.

And a good thing, too, since the show was a close-contact brand of improv, as fast and furious as a video game, with words and movements thrown out in a continuous mix of voices, accents and energetic motions.

From a salesman in the fifth dimension to a postal worker killed by a rubber ducky to a boring superhero, the material was fresh, fun and clever. The comic elements were varied enough that they never become stale, and except for a few basic swear words, there was nothing crude or gratuitous. It was clean enough to let your 12-year-old nephew see.

The show wasn't perfect, however, and that added to much of its charm. There were some hesitations, some uncertainties, though Driscoll, Martin and Emerson gave near-flawless performances using strong vocal fluctuations and movements to convey meanings far beyond words.

Weber brought an edge of the feminine to the show, which contrasted effectively with the masculine overtones, but she would do well to assert herself more. Hobkirk wooed us with killer facial expressions, and while Peck and Nathanson contributed with some great lines, they need to do more to pick up the action and carry through with their own personalities.

Overall, the show was successful, much in part to the casual yet intimate way the troupe included the audience. We were drawn in from the start, shouting out suggestions, adding comments, writing lines on slips of paper and even supplying props. We became part of the show, and that contributed to much of the magic.

Look it this way: You can take your five bucks and buy yourself a low-grade margarita. Or you can plop down that money for enough laughs to last until next payday.

The choice, I think, is clear. In the words of one of the members, "You're dumb, but you're tall."

8 magazine editorial assistant Cinthia Ritchie can be reached at critchie@adn.com.