‘Say Goodnight, Gracie’ expertly uses the ’70s to speak of now
Theater on the Edge is back, and what a welcome return it is. “Say Goodnight, Gracie,” onstage now, illustrates so many of the things that make the tiny theater in Edgewood, south of downtown Orlando, a special place for those in the know.
The play — set in a tiny New York apartment — fits beautifully into Theater on the Edge’s intimate stage. With room for only about 30 audience members, you feel like you are in the apartment with this engaging group of characters.
As usual, scenic designer Samantha DiGeorge has evoked the style of the times — in this case the 1970s — with gorgeous precision and an impeccable eye for detail — from the riot of orange snowflakes on the stained wallpaper to the sickly greenish-gold color of the couch. (Why were the 1970s obsessed with those colors?)
Director Marco DiGeorge is justifiably proud of what he calls the company’s “cinematic theater experience,” and it works particularly well with “Say Goodnight, Gracie.” Beyond the hyperrealism of the set, playwright Ralph Pape has constructed his comic story with the occasional dramatic monologue from his characters. For these, the actors step forward to the edge of the stage, as if they were looking directly at a movie camera. Samantha DiGeorge’s perfectly chosen costumes — oh, those brown and orange plaid pants — make sure the actors are ready for their close-ups.
And Pape’s play — much more than a time capsule, by the way — fits Theater on the Edge’s programming, which generally features plays new to or rarely seen in Central Florida.
All those factors combine to make “Say Goodnight, Gracie” a winner.
Pape’s play, which ran off-Broadway in the late ’70s, opens with struggling actor Jerry returning to the apartment he shares with girlfriend Ginny after a particularly disheartening day. He’s expecting old friends Steve and Bobby, who are arriving so the twentysomethings can all attend their high-school reunion. But feeling like a failure, Jerry doesn’t want to go.
What follows, fueled by a couple of joints, is a look at dashed hopes and dreams, the fear of what lies ahead and the knowledge that we may never get to live on the moon, as one character hopes.
It’s also a very funny play, in the back-and-forth quips, putdowns and honesty of friendship, and the cast gets that vibe just right.
Joshua Fulmer’s Jerry is stuck being a sad sack most of the time, but plays well off Christoper Ivers as far more mellow Steve. Audra Torres does a beautiful slow burn as Ginny, the most uptight of the bunch, slowly comes out of her shell as the evening progresses.
Faheem Bacchus deftly ties together the extremes of Bobby’s personality — the passion for life with the despair — while making his “I can dig it” Jersey boy much more than a caricature.
And Natalie Bulajic, as Bobby’s girlfriend, owns the stage with a life-affirming sensuality, providing a jolt of electricity every time she speaks. Accented by frosted blue eye shadow, her spirit drives the energy of the others as Bulajic captures the essence of being the outsider while serving as the audience’s proxy voyeur on this group.
All have a winning way with physicality, from Fulmer’s obsessive exercises to Ivers’ plopping into a bathtub.
The show feels a little long by the end, as such evenings of intoxicated reminiscences also do in real life as the buzz wears off, but it never wears out its welcome.
If you missed the 1970s, or it passed in a blur, you might learn a few things: People drank beer from cartons and put Cool Whip in their Cokes, apparently. But “Say Goodnight, Gracie” also has more profound things to teach: We humans always think we are living at “an extraordinary moment in time,” as one character says — and our self-doubt and uncertainty can hit us at any age, in any era.
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