The Boys Next Door

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

To miss Director Bernie Cardell’s production of The Boys Next Door at the Vintage Theatre is to miss a magnanimous moment of rich humanity at its finest and most difficult. Sold out performances speak to that truth.

Patrick Hurley as Norman and Kirsten Krieg as Sheila in The Boys Next Door. Photo by Ellen Nelson

Having worked with adults with disabilities for several years and thrilled in their honesty, awestruck by their wisdom, humored by their language dissection, and frustrated by the circumstances, the production left me with swollen ribs, and tears in my eyes.

The performances blew me out of the saddle with the actors’ high-powered consistency.

Four mentally challenged young men living in a group home overseen by Jack, joyously, poignantly played by Andy Anderson, tells it the way it is. Tom Griffin wrote The Boys Next Door not only from experience, but also from his heart. I have great admiration for anyone running a group home, hosting challenged individuals in their home, or having children to raise with mental or physical disabilities. Love my clients as much as I have and do, I no more could spend 24/7 with them than I could fly.

Patrick Mann as Arnold Wiggins turned the sold out house on opening night upside down and sideways the second he stepped foot into the staged home, ladened with several bags of groceries. Nervous, a worrywart, Wiggins’ consistency with every sharp physical move, eyes darting, and eyebrows responding to his physicalities grabbed my attention immediately. Throughout the performance, would he remember? Would he remain consistent? He never missed a beat. Several bags of groceries included several boxes of Wheaties and several quarts of milk. He couldn’t make a decision at the neighborhood store that delighted in taking advantage of him. It doesn’t matter whether the words don’t make any sense, he can’t stop talking.

When Jack insisted he return the extra groceries, Arnold nearly had a cow right there in the middle of the kitchen. He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t do it. When Jack insisted, anger tormented Arnold, and he announced the next day he would pack his bags and take a train to Russia.

The schematics of the play offer narration from Jack and the others squeezing humorous innocent comments into pathos, heartbreak, smiles, and laughter.

Anderson’s performance as Jack comes wrapped in vulnerable multi-colored ribbon. A breaking point will come. He knows it. Already he could feel the fires of burning out creeping around his soles and soul. He knows these guys, loves them, and understands them, but constant chaos consistently eats away at even the strongest chained conviction. Jack shows it through his eyes, his lined expressions, his deep breathing grasping for the never ending optimistic enthusiasm needed.

As Arnold can’t stop talking, always in perpetual motion, Norman Bulansky can’t stay away from the doughnuts. Successfully working in a doughnut shop, they give him the broken “unsellable” doughnuts at the end of his shift. Even though he’s gained 17 pounds since he started working, doughnuts remain as important to him as the ring of keys he wears on his belt. Patrick Hurley takes on the impetuous Norman with utmost honest believability, living in his own world of doughnuts, keys, and his girlfriend, Sheila, awesomely played by Kirsten Kreig. Shy, withdrawn, locked in a world no one else can visit, Sheila thrives on Norman’s attention. She wants his keys, throwing him into a threatened tizzy.

In an attempt to motivate Norman from continuously eating doughnuts, Jack probes and prods him about the weight gain. Wouldn’t Sheila like him better if he lost weight? The wheels turn slowly in Norman’s head. Hurley gives the audience an inside peak into Norman’s confused mind, which is no small trick for any actor to accomplish. An honest observed perspective flies from his mouth several times, “Well, she’s no skinny Minnie herself.”

Matthew Kepler captures the mind of a five-year old with Lucien P. Smith encasing himself with a heart of gold. Kepler feeds Lucien with warmth, confusion, “loveability”, and a 5-year-old ego centered perspective.

Addison Parker grabs Barry Klemper by the throat, projecting his schizophrenic nature as a golf pro. Knowing nothing about golf doesn’t faze him one bit. Having posted a notice on the bulletin board offering golf lessons for $1.75, four people accept.

The scene where he gives Mrs. Freemus her first lesson rides the tide beyond hysterical. She wants to learn how to use the golf club. He doesn’t think that’s important flying off on a tangent that has nothing to do with golf.

Ah, Mrs. Freemus not only wondrously played by Michelle Grimes, but Grimes plays six different roles giving specific attention to each one. As a quick-change artist in costume and personality, Grimes shines as a six-pointed star.

Barry gets turned inside out when he discovers his father Mr. Klemper is coming to visit. His father abandoned him several years ago. There was no room in his busy life for a schizophrenic. Every Christmas he sends Barry a box of chocolates, frequently late, but then one has to understand how busy he is. Played by Jesse Pearlman, on Opening Night he projected Mr. Klemper stiff and hesitant. Granted Mr. Klemper does not come across as an appealing personality. He definitely isn’t someone I would want to spend time with. Hopefully, Pearlman has loosened up a tad, embracing the character he represents. Giving a character an uptight attitude without letting the actor seep through is no easy task. Pearlman’s character did take a back seat to the actor. On stage only a short while, the uptight nervousness did not distract from the overall magnificent production. The role is significant in terms of what it does to Barry, sending him into a world no one can reach. Hospitalized in a catatonic state, Jack tries without success. Humor that plays happily with the four guys turns to heartbreak producing lumps in the throat.

Sarah Roshan designed the detailed set allowing the play to move easily through a variety of different places. Her perfected eye for design surrounds The Boys Next Door with wondrous atmosphere. Lance Copeland’s lighting design zeroes in with spotlighted courage, which Jack and the guys desperately need. Annie Reiplinger’s costume design allows the characters to stand out with rich ingrained personalities fitting the actors to a tee.

Cardell’s insightful direction ties everything and everyone into a neat compact package taking the breath away. The characters are able to reach deep into the human psyche to pull out rich, believable, consistent aspects of a large part of our population that all too frequently go unnoticed in day to day busy hectic lives. But they’re there, the unsung heroes represented by Jack, the Arnold’s, the Norman’s, the Barry’s, the Lucien’s, and the Sheila’s. In spite of their limitations they have a rich heritage to give. Brilliantly written by a playwright who understands, this cast has crawled inside the script to peer out with full-fledged developed characters. To set the Vintage Theatre’s stage on fire with pure unadulterated magic igniting imagination, mind tickling thoughts, and a gratitude for life no matter what form it takes.

The Boys Next Door is a celebration of life with unintentional humor, pathos, heartbreak, disappointment, but when you come right down to it, that’s what the celebration of life entails. Sometimes the dance confuses calypso with “tangoed” steps, tripping over the 4/4 beat of the waltz, stumbling on the two-step, but it’s a dance, a celebration belonging to all of us.

Do not take The Boys Next Door for granted. Do not assume it is possible to just walk in and buy a ticket. Call early for reservations. The one and only unbending element of this production is the Sold Out sign.