Everybody Loves OCD

The Phantom is nothing if not a worldly sage. He’ll never forget that exotic night in Algiers. But not till now did he realize that kindly old bag ladies really were hiding gobs of cash in the lining of old fur coats. This insight causes him to want to take scissors to Aunt Phillipina’s closet to see if there might be some petty cash to be had. Who knew that tea bags had so much staying power and that Yankees had such lousy East Coast accents? We found NTA’s latest offering, Everybody Loves Opal, to be full of useful information.

This delightful little play was a perfect holiday offering in a dark, dysfunctional, there’s-a-serial-killer-upstairs-with-a-large-axe family comedy way. We were introduced to Opal, a sweet almost-homeless gal—aren’t they all charming?—who fixes everything with a cup of tea made from the same teabag used over and over. Nice touch, set people, we loved the tea bags on the clothesline. That bit never got old. As usual, NTA did a fabulous job with the set. This time they seemed to empty out their props department to recreate Opal’s home. It was cluttered but not distracting.

The Phantom was filled with holiday cheer thanks to our lead and her endless supply of faith in humankind. Very nice job, Opal. There was also a cat aiding and abetting our lonely old lady. (Aunt Phanny comes to mind here. She has 11 cats, all named Boris, and her house reeks of cat litter and hairballs. But we love Aunt Phanny. She’s completely nuts, but she brings potent and delicious rum balls to Christmas dinner every year. At least we think it’s rum. And we’re pretty sure they’re balls.)

The Phantom digresses. Enter our foils, three intriguing characters with larceny on their minds. Gloria was an actress we have seen before. In our dreams. But her spouse has noticed our prior pondering (or pandering?) of her comeliness, so we dast not expound upon it here yet again. Admittedly, she was comely. However, if the program is to be believed, she and her hubby are expecting their first offspring soon and, despite his worldy travels, The Phantom chooses not to think lascivious thoughts about a mommy. Even if she is luscious. So he won’t. Jacob, you lucky dog, you. Woof.

The Phantom digresses again. Gloria was a greedy ditz who sold counterfeit perfume door-to-door. Her colleague in crime was Dr. Brad, a chemist gone bad who manufactured this contraband when he wasn’t abusing the power of a strong vocabulary. The Phantom was quite taken with this character and cannot begin to understand why someone with a superior intellect could be the target of a negative characterization. It’s hard to imagine. Brad was portrayed by none other than TTC’s Danny Zuko from Grease! Quelle suprise! [Trust The Phantom, kids. That’s not mispelled.] What a pleasure to find familiar folks on new stages. He did a fine job as a tortured ex-academician skirting the law to make a fast buck. That’s a kind of character we see far too often around these parts, but he managed to keep it relatively fresh. Brad had our favorite partial line of the play: “Six degrees and one lung…”

Our third member of this unholy alliance was Sol. Smarmy and slightly bumbling, Sol neither charmed nor disgusted. The Phantom couldn’t really figure out where or why Sol fitted in with this triad but there he was. He eventually was a love interest for Opal . . . or was he? We are not sure. It didn’t really matter. Nevertheless, this actor did a fine job.

There was a delightful scene with Opal being examined by the one remaining medico who still does house calls. Doc was a clinically depressed physician (or a physician with a depressed clinic) examining Opal in order to qualify her for a life insurance policy that Gloria, Brad and Sol planned to collect after her untimely and premature demise. “Doc” was wry and dry and had the experienced sense of comedic timing that we have come to expect, and always enjoyed, from this actor.

The final supporting actor was also a familiar and popular face at NTA. Officer Janke (pronounced Yhan-kee. Get it?) has been seen before, most memorably in Lend Me A Tenor. The Phantom liked that performance very much. We were, however, confused and confounded by his odd accent in this show. Near the end of the play it dawned like a new spring morn: Officer Janke was doing his best Bahstin (pronounced “Boston”) dialect. We finally got it, but boy, oh, boy, we took a long time to get there.

Our lead was a new face and she did a good job as the optimistic and contagiously likable Opal. We were sad when Mr. Tanner was killed, and then we were happy that everything was going to be alright, but we were discombobulated by the end of this otherwise cleverly written play. The end was a throwaway that was reminiscent of the schlock ending of Cabin Fever. It was too convenient, and it lacked any Wow or Aha! factor. But that is a problem of the book. The director, the cast, and the supporting tech produced a fine evening of live entertainment, and to that The Phantom says, “Thank you, Sunny Furman Theater. Hats off and clap, clap.”

Other than that, it was great.

The Phantom