Skip to main contentOne of the secret successes of playwright Becky Mode and actor Mark Setlock's hilarious tour of the food-service ring of Hell is the personal stories that it inspires from its audience afterwards in pubs and cafes surrounding the theater. Anyone who has had the misfortune of working with the general public invariably comes back from that particular frontline with horrific tales that time always seems to level into levity.
Who among us hasn't been asked for cheeseburgers without cheese, copies of Romeo and Juliet in English, or high-heels for toddlers? Setlock taps into this well of absurd encounters with an evening of refined anecdotes fashioned into a fast-paced one-man show.
Sam, a struggling actor, has been condemned to work in the basement of a chic Manhattan restaurant, answering phones to take reservations. As the restaurant is a place where everyone who is Anyone must be seen, there is quite a lot of jockeying for tables. Even though the restaurant is "fully committed" (that is to say, booked up for two solid months in advance), desperation drives people to ridiculous lengths to be seated.
The people telephonically assaulting Sam constitute a who's who of stock characters: dramatic Jewish matrons, Japanese tourists with little English, sleazy players with bribing funds, screaming queen assistants to supermodels, Mafioso figures and penny-clutching senior citizens--all impersonated by Setlock. The other force working against the young actor is the kitchen staff upstairs, headed by a sadistic, superstar chef and a feckless maitre d'.
Setlock provides a speedy marathon of characterizations, switching between Sam and this rogues' gallery of New Yorkers fairly effortlessly. If there is a criticism of this show, it's that Setlock at times is a bit too quick in switching between characters, which leads to the occasional bleeding of one portrait into another. There were also a few moments when Setlock seemed to be so thrilled with his invention that he came close to breaking character entirely.
Fully Committed does have a happy ending, something seldom experienced in reality. This, perhaps, lessens the piece's effectiveness to a degree, as everything is tied up so neatly with a bow that it feels rather precious. But a sign of good storytelling is that it inspires other stories. Using that as a measuring stick, I would say that Fully Committed is worth sampling without reservations.
Now, if I may, a memory play. (Scene: The telephone room at Powell's Books.)
ME: (answering phone) Good afternoon, Powell's.
LADY: (sweet, vacant voice) Hello. I'm looking for a charming little book called The Reddest Bunny. It was my favorite story as a little girl, and I would love to find a copy to share with my darling grandchildren.
ME: I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's no title by that name in our inventory at the moment.
LADY: (demonically possessed) FUCK!!! (three beats, then LADY titters girlishly) Okie-dokie, artichokey.
(Click to phone static. Curtain.)
Portland Center Stage at the Winningstad Theatre, Portland Center for the Performing Arts, 1111 SW Broadway, 274-6588. 7 pm Tuesdays-Wednesdays, noon and 8 pm Thursdays, 8 pm Fridays-Saturdays, 7 pm Sundays. Closes May 30. $16-$51.
WWeek 2015