Beau Jest

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

Miners Alley Playhouse is alive with the buzzing of lies, deceptions, cover-ups, and a prescription dose of heavy laughter.

Emily Norman, Sue Leiser and Roger L. Simon in Miner’s Alley production of Beau Jeste.

Under the direction of Rick Bernstein, James Sherman’s hilarious play Beau Jest trips over the boards with an excellent cast glued together with energetic chemistry.

With a long face, Chris Cringle, rejecting any compatibility to the Jolly Kris Cringle of Santa Claus fame, is anything but a happy camper. Played admirably by Robert Kramer, Chris snorts and sniggles through several “grumpized” attempts of “I don’t like this. I don’t like this one bit.” Little good his complaining does for his beloved girlfriend Sarah Goldman adorably played by Emily Norman.

Chris and Emily met six months ago falling happily in love, hoping to live happily ever after.

Wouldn’t that be grand!!

One small hitch stands in the happily ever after plan.

Sarah is Jewish, has very dyed-in-the-wool Jewish parents who expect her to connect, of course, with a Jewish guy. She loves them dearly, isn’t about to upset any apple cart, would not hurt them for the world, and in her muddled thinking decides deception is better than hurtful truth. Norman gives Sarah a limitless amount of eager enthusiasm wearing her heart on her sleeve, coupled with a large portion of Sarah-type logic with believability written all over her psyche.

Her parents, Miriam (Sue Leiser) and Abe (Roger L. Simon) along with her brother Joel, (Christopher McIntyre) are coming to dinner, and she HAS to have a Jewish boyfriend.

For staunch glistening dyed-in-the wool Jewish parents, the combination of Leiser and Simon couldn’t be upstaged by any other actors playing the roles anywhere in the universe. Leiser has perfected the quintessential Jewish mother without mocking, poking fun, misreading, or taking any role one iota beyond the perfected point. Her eyes gleam. Her jesters for real, her clipped words of affirmative thinking phrased to perfection. The funny lines provide hysterical punches with pointed inflections. As Miriam, Leiser stands at the top of her game. She brings to mind so many Jewish mothers who have meandered through my life.

Simon’s ingenious expressions as Abe floating in perpetual motion are a marvel to watch. Here is a man who knows how to allow his wife control over conversation, getting his digs through non-verbal facial extortions. Abe also knows when to take exceptions. When he is conducting the Seder meal, Roger’s Abe takes control racing through the words he knows backwards, forwards, and upside down, and when it’s over the book gets slammed shut. It’s “funnily” comical without screaming, “funny bit coming up.”

Sarah’s undying love for her parents sends her into a tizzy, calling an escort agency, requesting a Jewish guy to pacify her parents. Robert Schroeder shows with the able assistance of Chris Bleau. Robert is the sole reason for Chris gnashing his teeth. Sarah is his girlfriend. He dearly loves her, resents not being able to meet her parents, and definitely resents this suave handsome cool guy taking his place. Kramer stated after the show “if you blink, you’ll miss me”. Not entirely true. He may not be on stage for very long, but believe me; Kramer’s Chris leaves a firm, lasting impression.

Although Robert, an actor, isn’t Jewish, he miraculously pulls off the role he has been busily assigned by Sarah. He just finished a six-month run of Fiddler On The Roof. Important words stick with him, saving Sarah’s body, soul, and butt during the Seder meal.

Wanting only the best for their daughter, wanting their daughter to be happy, Abe and Miriam take everything at face value. One doesn’t. Joel, Sarah’s cynical brother comes to the fray with built-in suspicion. McIntyre reflects Joel’s inside gut reaction through his eyes and tightly screwed up mouth sentiments. He smells a rat. By biding his time, he’ll find that rat, and bring it right to the confrontational feet of Sarah.

Chris’ aggravation wears on him and on Sarah. Life becomes complicated. The love bug decides to move taking up residence between Sarah and Robert. That presents just one small technical problem. Sarah finds herself in the exact situation with which she first began: Jewish parents, non-Jewish boyfriend.

Fast-paced, lines given honest respect coming from the heart of the characters, engulfed by the actors, Beau Jest provokes thought nibbling questions about what happens when we as human beings love someone to death, attempt to protect them from hurtful disappointing feelings, accompanied by complicated complications.

Richard H. Pegg’s set design converts Miners Alley’s stage into an up-scale apartment in the up-scale Lincoln Park neighborhood of Chicago. The dining table takes center stage on an upper level. It is here clutched awareness offers unique surprises for Sarah, Robert, and Joel as Miriam feeds on her overstuffed romantic notions, and Abe follows every phrase with sliced expressions.

When the truth comes out, as truth always has a way of pushing itself to the forefront, Simon’s Abe explodes in disappointed anger, no longer content to ride the surf with his expressions. Simon’s controlled anger for Abe reminds everyone of a father’s misguided reaction. Leaser’s Miriam climbs immediately into the Jewish Mother peacemaker.

Karalyn Pytel’s lighting design peaks to the moments of unnerved tension, ingenious surprises, cynical reactions, topsy-turvy cover-ups, and romantic embraces.

Paige L. Larson’s sensitive eye dresses the characters and actors with appropriate and becoming outfits.

To say Miners Alley’s Beau Jest is identifiably hysterical is the understatement of the year. The well-written lines are very funny, treated as honest jolting reactions instead of funny for the sake of funny. Consequently, the humor rolls with each punch. Sherman’s words climb inside the magical realm of human nature. Surrounded by the universal child-parent conundrum, the playwright treats it with warmth and humor allowing questions and answers to bubble along the outside. Psychologists and psychiatrists make millions every year on this very issue. If clients were given the play to read, or better yet sent to Miners Alley, clients could walk out and say “I get it now.” One doesn’t have to be Jewish to appreciate the underlying wisdom whispering through Beau Jest.

Wonderfully directed, with a magnificent cast of actors who get out of the way allowing characters free reign, this is a definite Don’t Miss production.