Generosity and inanity

There is a man named Jim Robinson. He is one of my favorite human beings. He is tall, handsome, intelligent, hilarious and—more often than not—openly bewildered by life. You may know him from his time at the Brave New Workshop or as the co-author of Pride and Plot of Pointlessness. For almost two years he played the Waiter every Monday night in my romantic comedy choose-your-own-adventure show, Adventures in Mating. Out of the roughly 8,000 lines he memorized, one particular joke amused him to no end. The line was this: “Really? Why?” The context doesn’t matter. It’s just a phrase that resonates with an intelligent and observant man like Mr. Robinson. It’s simply the most logical response to any number of stimuli provided by the outside world. You took your child to a mall, put him on a stranger’s lap and gave someone else money to take a picture of it. Really? Why? You cut down a living tree, stuck it in a corner of your house, then hung shiny balls and tinsel from it so it looks pretty while it slowly dies. Really? Why? Because of the comedy rule of three, I should probably write another example of traditional holiday inanity. Really? Why?

Table salt productions

This past fall, Jim (together with Dennis Curley and Rachel Brogan Flanery) formed a new theater company: Table Salt Productions. They have an ambitious and eclectic inaugural season packed with original plays (comedic, dramatic and comi-dramatic), original musicals, and an old-school holiday variety show called “Spiked!” Really? Why? The show is a mix of comedy sketches questioning the holidays (“If it’s Jesus b-day, why is there no cake?”, “I hate your family”, etc.), special guests, and lovely, heartfelt, sometimes rockin’, sometimes religious, sometimes rockin’ religious carols. The framing device had the most powerful impact on me. Comedian/actress/improv goddess/bass player Jen Scott and Jim Robinson play a couple who seem overwhelmed, baffled and charmed by the fact that there is an audience in their living room. As the show begins they greet the audience, sit down, and try to make small talk. When no great conversation ensues, Jim deadpans: “Perhaps you have a child or small dog we could all stare at.” The show is frenetic, funny, and fun-loving, but I was watching it with several specific questions in mind. “Why do we do holiday shows? Why do audiences go? What, if anything, is this show saying about the holidays?” To me, the show was an honest reflection of the holidays: joyful and schizophrenic. In one sketch, Jim’s character asks the character played by super-funny Joshua Will, “What does it feel like to have children at Christmas?” Joshua slaps him for about five minutes then asks, “Do you want this to end?” Jim: “Yes.” Joshua: “That’s what it feels like to have kids on Christmas.” This sketch is followed by a lovely carol. At one point, the entire 14 or 15 person cast sings an impressive carol medley in which every holiday song you can imagine was jammed together in awkward, unpredictable ways. Jen and Jim then request that the audience sing along. They can’t, it makes little to no sense, it’s a trap. I tried anyway. I failed. Yay! Christmas. As I watched the show I realized I was asking the wrong question. The question isn’t “Really? Why?” In my opinion, the question posed by the show and the majority of our holiday traditions is this: “Really? Why not?”

When is a cult not bad?

Normally, I bang the drum like a drugged-up little drummer boy that traditions and beliefs should be questioned. As many, many ironic holiday shows point out: our strange, secular December Special Time is a confusing mélange of ideas brought to us by pagans, Catholics, Charles Dickens, Rankin-Bass, Coca-Cola ads and whatever weird crap your grandmother told you. Each generation of parents seems to cherry-pick these ideas and indoctrinate their children like they were in a cult. Normally when I say “cult” I’m being negative. This is a special holiday exception. I’ve worked on many holiday shows, I’ve attended many holiday shows, I’ve attended and been worked over by many family holidays. For myself, I feel like I’ve done due diligence questioning. I’ve declared that I won’t blindly follow these baseless traditions. I’ve asked myself if there’s a reason I shouldn’t? Is there anything sinister lurking? And the answer is no. The result of all the inanity seems to be a general spirit of generosity; a concerted effort to enjoy or cope with your family as the case may be; a boost to the economy and, god bless us theatricals every single one, more butts in seats. December Special Time is one of those rare times where artists can actually achieve the goal of holding the mirror up to the audience and showing them their reflection. And because of the plethora of shows, people can see themselves any way they want to: Redeemed Scrooges, Nutcracking traditionalists, Subversive socialists who enjoy beaver puns. They can even imagine they are in the living room of Jen Scott and Jim Robinson. If there is anyone who wouldn’t want to spend a couple of hours with these beautiful, talented, and empathetically bewildered people, I have one question for you: “Really? Why not?”