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Heartbeats Accelerate In 'The Batting Cage.'
By Dave Irwin
THE INVISIBLE Theatre's latest offering, The Batting
Cage, is an homage to the joys and revelations accrued from
being stuck in a Holiday Inn on an extended wake/vacation. Despite
playwright Joan Ackermann's sometimes tortured prose, this dramedy
turns out to be a funny and touching work, thanks mostly to actress
Betsy Kruse.
Set in their motel room, The Batting Cage revolves around
the relationship between two sisters who have come to St. Augustine,
Florida, to scatter the ashes of a third sister, Morgan. Before
her death, Morgan planned this vacation for the sisters and their
mother. Wilson, played by Jennifer Fisk-Wilken, is the fraternal
twin of the deceased. Sullen and silent to the point of near catatonia,
Wilson, a tomboyish chemical engineer, is given to vacuous sighs
and vacantly altering her electrical environment--rewiring the
room with a dimmer and a clap-on switch, which she happens to
carry along with her electrical tools.
Her wardrobe consists of 10 identical Eddie Bauer shirts. Her
older sister, Julianna, played by Kruse, is a recent divorcée
trying to realign her chi power with color therapy. Overly talkative
and analytical without insight, Julianna tries unsuccessfully
to engage Wilson in conversation throughout the entire first half
of the play, succeeding only during a Mensa quiz. Meanwhile, the
luggage containing the dead sister's ashes appears to be lost
by the airlines.
After intermission, the two sisters metamorphose, switching characteristics.
Julianna, laid low by debilitating sunburn, is now the silent,
sullen one. Shy Wilson, freed from the tyranny of her more popular
twin, has discovered herself. Her epiphany, shamelessly and verbosely
described to her now immobile sister, finally comes while hitting
60 consecutive fastball pitches at a nearby batting cage, as she
achieves orgasm in front of the gathered, admiring crowd.
Soon, Wilson is talkative, lively and dressing in bright colors,
while Julianna retreats into the sexless Eddie Bauer cast-offs
of her sister's. In the end, their mother, Rose, played by Jetti
Ames, arrives with the missing suitcase, leading to a final, touching
scene on family, love and death, to the accompaniment of the McGarrigle
Sisters' "Heartbeats Accelerating."
The first half of The Batting Cage plays out strictly
for laughs. Between Fisk-Wilken's deadpan and Kruse's slapstick,
coupled with the increasingly screwball situations, there are
plenty of chuckles. The complications, beyond the lost luggage
with their sister's remains, include an anonymous, amorous Conquistador,
the delay of Rose's arrival after being run over by a bike courier,
and Troy D. McKay as a droll deep-South bell-hop with a barnacle
growing in his ear. McKay carries this minor character so nicely
that we begin to sympathize with the barnacle inside his head,
for the hapless crustacean is trapped in as empty a space as the
sisters.
The lanky Kruse looks like a stand-in for actress Shelly Long.
Indeed, the excessive verbalization without awareness is highly
reminiscent of Long's character as the smart but senseless Diane
Chambers on the TV show Cheers. Julianna's daffiness is
nicely accentuated by Kruse's physical comedy, as when she inches
her sun-baked body across the bed on her stomach, or plays childlike
with the kitschy tourist trinkets she has collected.
Fisk-Wilken, in the supporting role, does a nice job supporting
Kruse's character, while eking out enough dramatic territory to
make her own transformation believable.
After intermission the laughs are fewer and smaller, as the sisters'
pain becomes apparent. Julianna explains she is so hungry for
a man's touch that she actually looks forward to trips to the
dentist. Here Kruse gets to stretch out and demonstrate her expressive
skills in a series of vignettes illustrating Julianna's profound
isolation and loneliness.
When Rose finally does arrive, and after a windy description
of her mishap, the play finally turns into a bittersweet wake,
making it hard not to choke back a tear or two by the final curtain.
Ackermann is her own worst enemy here, writing lengthy monologues
of overwrought prose that wishes it were poetry, but which ends
up merely unserviceable, flowery dialogue. While it comes to sound
normal from chatty Julianna, it grates from the others. In particular,
Wilson's lurid, thesaurus-enhanced description of her batting
cage experience, and Rose's deeply philosophical treatise on being
run down by a bicyclist, ring agonizingly false.
Directed by Deborah Dickey, The Batting Cage is a well-acted
and enjoyable mix of mirth and melancholy, whose only flaw is
the playwright's sometimes pretentious vocabulary.
The Batting Cage continues through December 6 at
the Invisible Theatre, 1400 N. First Ave. (at Drachman
Street). Show times are 7:30 p.m. Tuesday through Thursday; 8
p.m. Fridays and Saturdays; and 2 and 7:30 p.m. Sundays. There
is no performance on Thursday, November 26. Tickets range from
$14 to $17.50. For reservations and information, call 882-9721.
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