Roble Theater has been transformed into a turn of the century Parisian café for the production of Steve Martin’s comedy Picasso at the Lapin Agile, directed by Max Walker-Silverman and produced by Safiya Nygaard.
Let me set the scene: two guitar players strummed at one of the small tables, which were grouped in front of the bar and extended almost to the first row of the audience. On the chalkboard menu were items like Marion Cote-de-lard. The bar tender, Freddy (Sebastian Sanchez-Luege), came down and asked if I wanted some wine. It could, I decided, only get better from here.
The lights dimmed, Freddy shooed out the guitar players and the absurdist situation on which the play rests – what if Albert Einstein and Pablo Picasso, on the cusp of their greatest achievements, met in a bar – commenced. Einstein (Austin Caldwell) joins Freddy, his wife Germaine (Cecilia Lang-Ree), and the aging regular Gaston (Nicholas Pether), to await a date. Throughout the night, they are joined, among many, by Suzanne (Sarah Jobalia), one of Picasso’s starry-eyed lovers, Sagot (Ouree Lee), the fast-talking, business savvy art dealer, a young romanticized Picasso (Louis McWilliams), the crass, self-promoting Charlene Dabernow Schmendiman (Emma Walker-Silverman), and a mysterious Visitor (Kevin Heller).
Their hilarious conversation ranged over love and sex, Einstein’s theory of relativity, why neither paintings of Jesus nor of sheep sell, and how Picasso’s “drawings” (as Gaston calls them) are made. There was flowing alcohol, transcendental discussion, partial nudity, and moments of sublime discovery about the nature of creation. One of my favorite lines that merged such disparate topics was when Sagot explains that a painting of Jesus doesn’t sell well because there is nowhere to put it in the house. It can only be hung in the kitchen, but “that’s sort of insulting to Jesus. Jesus ham sandwich, Jesus, ham sandwich; I wouldn’t like it and neither would He.”
It was a bit like Midnight in Paris gets Steve Martin-ified – the same intellectual humor and pleasure at seeing famous figures of the early twentieth century come to life, but with more hijinks, sexual innuendo, and slapstick.
Paradoxically, the humor is at times subtle and often ironic, perhaps due to the meta nature of the piece. Near the beginning, there is a funny kerfuffle when Einstein makes his appearance too early. Later, Picasso tells Suzanne that he will meet her after the play is over. With the play effectually winking at the audience, both the sublime and slapstick moments seem at once profound and ridiculous. Being trapped between these extremes is the play’s strength, both in the script’s exploration of genius on the verge of actualization and in the actors’ performances.
All the players were outstanding, inhabiting tricky roles. Picasso was arrogant but lovable, Einstein goofy but an intellectual force, Charlene incredibly obnoxious but hilarious. Although the Visitor’s name is never mentioned, Heller’s spot-on acting makes the character’s identity instantly obvious. I loved Gaston’s bit in which he kept leaving the bar to pee (I can empathize with the small-bladdered). It was a cast of paradoxical characters and the group of mostly freshman actors pulled it off well. At first I was uncertain about their dramatic stage acting, given how close the audience was, but as the absurdity and hilarity mounted, it seemed the only appropriate method. Disbelief was suspended and I became fully engrossed in the characters’ lives.
The staging was particularly adept at handling this potentially overly intense situation. The characters were constantly moving in what seemed like a beautifully choreographed flow; as soon as Einstein’s burst of exuberance threatened to become straining, the (metaphorical) spotlight shifted to a sardonic comment by Freddy, and when his sass earned him a screeching fight with his wife, Suzanne was suddenly in the arms of Picasso.
What drives the play most, of course, is its energy and how fully the actors embody their characters. Even moments still rough around the edges in the dress rehearsal, a bumbled line or dropped prop, contributed to the infectious vitality of the play, which portrays the characters’ fascinating, funny, messy lives.
“Picasso at the Lapin Agile” runs May 8th through the 10th in Roble Hall Theater at 8pm. Reserve your tickets online. Come see, as Picasso says, a dream of the impossible, put into effect. And great effect at that.
photo credits to Alexis Lucio
('15) is an English major who likes contemporary fiction, tall mountains, and cats.