Sad-Funny "Fuddy" at MTC

Publicity for Marin Theatre Company’s new production, “Fuddy Meers” describes it as “hysterical,” “mad-cap,” “zany,” and yet, during last Wednesday’s show, there was barely a chuckle in the audience. The prevailing mood seemed to be thoughtful, even serious. What’s going on?

Playwright David Lindsay-Abaire wrote “Fuddy” when he was in graduate school, and it was his first professionally-produced play. He’s since gone on to great success as a screenwriter, a Broadway playwright, a Pulitzer Prize winner, and now as author of a successful new Broadway show, “Good People.” Nothing zany.

But through all of Lindsay-Abaire’s work, writes MTC Artistic Director, Jasson Minadakis, runs a current of sympathy for his characters. “This compassion is the essential quality of David’s writing,” says Minadakis. In another part of the same program, the playwright is quoted that his characters are “outsiders in search of clarity.” Here are the outsiders at work in “Fuddy Meers.”

Central character, Claire, wakes to a clanging alarm clock, is greeted by a husband she can’t remember and offered a dress from her closet that is supposed to be her favorite. The husband, Richard, says that he is about to drive their son, Kenny, to school. Kenny’s in eighth grade, he reminds her. She can’t remember.

Richard also reminds Claire that she has amnesia, has had it for two years, but when she asks how she got it, he evades the question. None of this bothers her. Even the limping, lisping man in a ski mask who crawls out from under Claire’s bed, fails to frighten Claire. The man says he’s her brother, Zach, here to rescue her from Richard and take her home to Gertie, their mother. Claire goes along.

By now, any semblance of a character-driven story has begun to buckle and distort, much like the images in the fun-house mirrors that Gertie, with her speech defect, describes as “fuddy meers.”

Richard is driving the slumping, sullen Kenny and sharing his marijuana. They get pulled over by an attractive female who may or may not be a cop, but does carry a gun.

Claire, still in bedroom slippers, arrives with Zach at her mother’s home. Zach, once the mask is off, reveals a badly deformed ear. He is deaf on that side. He also wears a dangling manacle.

Gertie is struggling with a severe speech defect from a stroke. She’s pleased to see her daughter, but seems frightened of Zach, supposedly her son.

They are interrupted by a figure at the window, Millet, also wearing half a manacle. Millet speaks through his rude hand puppet, Hinky Pinky. He is desperately attached to this puppet.

Portraying these not-quite-lifelike folks needs an imaginative director (Ryan Rilette) and a cast with superior talent. As Clair, Mollie Stickney strikes just the right note of good-natured befuddlement, and as Richard, her husband, Andrew Hurteau can seem either a good guy who puts up with a lot or an advantage-seeking exploiter.

Tim True as the limping man with the cauliflower ear is both terrifying and pitiable. Dena Martinez as Heidi, the non-cop, is seductive, but vaguely threatening. As Kenny, Sam Leichter manages to grow and change as Clair does, while Lance Gardner’s Millet/ aka Hinky Pinky reveals a painful, grown-up example of parental abuse. Joan Mankin’s Gertie plays her whole role in “stroke talk,” and does it so securely, the audience can almost – but not quite – understand.

“Fuddy Meers” is an engaging story of six characters and their interactions. It moves fast – could even be presented as a long one-act, and its ending is perfect. But it’s not hilarious.

“Fuddy Meers” will be at the Marin Theatre Company through April 24. Performances are Tuesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays at 8p.m., Wednesdays at 7:30, and Sundays at 7p.m. Matinees are at 1p.m. April 14 and at 2p.m. April 9, 23, and every Sunday. Ticket prices are between $33 and $53, with discounts available. For complete information, see www.marintheatre.org or call 388-5208.