By: David de Young
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Rose Le Tran as June in nimbus theatre's production of The Mail Order Bride
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Inevitably when writing theater reviews one eventually gets to call a play “a satiric romp.” That phrase is apt in the case of Charles Mee’s The Mail Order Bride, which had its regional premiere at the Minneapolis Theater Garage on Friday in a production by nimbus theatre. Inspired by Moliere’s final play, The Imaginary Invalid, Mee’s Bride takes a farcical—and occasionally musical approach—to get its points across, as difficult as those points may sometimes be to determine from the text of the play itself.
Director Josh Cragun’s intent to present Mee’s play (often produced in liberally cut-and-paste collage-type adaptations) in close to its original form, with Mee’s self-described “sharp edges” intact, serves to make the current show a great introduction to Mee’s work.
The play opens to a scene of Argan (played by Marlin L. Rothe), a hypochondriac just as in Moliere’s original, engaged in seemingly every new-fangled and ancient approach to health and longevity ever conceived, assisted by his stylist Tina (Megan Engeseth) and alternative medical advisor Angie (Kari Hammer). Following an episode of Tai Chi and other exercises, the plot is set when Argan reveals his plan to buy an Asian mail order bride as the ultimate solution to his need to regain his lost youthfulness. When Argan’s daughter Susanne (Shannon Jankowski) protests, “You can’t buy a person!” Argan blisteringly insists, “Of course you can.”
Argan’s bride-to-(may)be, June (played by Rose Le Tran) escapes the bedroom where Argan has been keeping her locked away since her arrival and makes her entrance. One “oof” moment follows another after Argan breaks out “The Marriage Book" (a supposedly real tome on how a wife should act to best please her husband that includes such tips as having a delicious meal ready on time, and making sure to “eliminate all noise of washer, dryer, dishwasher or vacuum” upon his arrival home). And the fun begins.
June immediately falls for the dressmaker Jack Horner, whom she had met on the plane from Los Angeles, played by a fabulously mutton-chopped Reier Erickson, who feigns being a castrato (which he does so for such a good chunk of the action that it’s a relief when he starts to use his real voice again.) Love triangles turn into quadrangles into pentangles as attractions veer unexpectedly with no regard for either gender or perceived compatibility.
Though I thought the Gnarls Barkley dance number (“Crazy” – sung boldly by Erickson in his castrato falsetto) was a bit long, it and other music and dance numbers interspersed throughout the play functioned much like scene breaks to keep the 1 hour and 50 minute production from seeming overly long.
Ultimately, June comes into her own, metamorphosing—with the help of combat boots and nunchucks from Argan’s assistants—from a timid, pleasant woman who wished for marriage and children to please her mother into a feisty love explorer who wants nothing less than to “walk on the high wire without a safety net.” A fun and physically-demanding Missy Elliot dance number (“We Run This”) follows, which leaves much of the cast sweating and out of breath. But perhaps the song in the play that works best is “June is Busting’ Out All Over” from Carousel presented Broadway musical style (complete with palm fronds) which serves as a metaphor for June’s assisted re-invention of herself.
As the culmination of an impromptu martial arts demonstration, June breaks the marriage book – an overtly obvious metaphoric act. But Argan won’t quite give up and is still convinced she may go through with the wedding. (She will, but not to him.) Eventually, as everyone makes unlikely hookups, and the problem of the prenuptial agreement signed by Argan and June is resolved, Argan too is paired off with the last person you'd expect, and as the play ends we’re left expecting everyone living happily ever after in the original comedic sense.
What’s scary about the play is that we all know people who share the naiveté of many of Mee’s characters, but we also know people afflicted by the aptly-named “New York Disease,” one of self-serving endless seeking of entertainment, play and gratification. Perhaps Mee’s play is attempting to show that balance is indeed possible and may be the result of following one’s own heart. It’s a cynical but always loving exploration of naiveté that is more than entertaining enough to compensate for lack of clear direction or theme.
The Mail Order Bride runs through November 18th. For more information or reservations, visit www.nimbustheatre.com
Location Info:
Minneapolis Theater Garage
Artist Info: nimbus theatre
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