Theatre: The Smell of the Kill The moment the lights of the Helen Hayes Theatre come up on Michele Lowe’s new comedy, The Smell of the Kill, is a revelation: David Gallo’s forced perspective set is the über-kitchen of your crowded Manhattan apartment’s dreams. Unfortunately, this Kohler catalog come to life is the best thing about this toothless vapid excuse of a comedy. The play is about three suburban hausfrau’s who take turns hosting their husbands (and former college roommates) monthly parlor golf games at their homes. They pass the time in the kitchen, drinking, gossiping and soothing their loudmouth husband’s egos. When the boys throw golf balls into the kitchen, the girls plop them into a bowl, throw whipped cream on top of them and serve them up as dessert. Each relationship is severely flawed in their own ways. One husband is a philanderer, the other controls his wife by checking in on her every half hour with a pager, and one is an embezzler who, in the face of losing everything he owns, buys a walk in freezer to store the carcasses of the deer he shoots. When the boys accidentally lock themselves in the freezer, the women are faced with the question, “Do we let them out?” In all fairness, this is a very funny play, but the joke is essentially a one-note affair. There are lots of gags with guns and sexy lingerie and the performances are top notch, especially Claudia Shear’s portrayal of Debra, the only character who seems to have a problem with offing her husband. Much of the play will probably show up in Best Actresses Monologues of 2002, but it’s no better and often far worse, than your average sitcom. I’m really at a loss as to how this play could make it to Broadway, especially when it turns out, at the end of the day, the women really do kill their husbands. (You can send the seventy dollars I just saved you to me care of japhy@hotmail.com.) Where is the suspense in a play where the characters do exactly what we were expecting them to do all along? This play doesn’t even inspire outrage. The husbands are clearly monsters and to ensure that we never feel even an ounce of compassion for them, they are never seen, but only heard off stage. My hats are off Patrick Garner and Mark Lotito, who play the hapless hubbies. I can only assume the reason they are in this play is because they lost a bet. Currently on Broadway there are some great plays, there are plays that almost achieve greatness, there are plays that are cringe-inducing and there are plays that inspire hatred on site. The Smell of the Kill stands alone in inducing an overwhelming shrug of indifference. The Smell of the Kill is now playing at the Helen Hayes Theatre (240 West 44th Street). Tickets are $ $45 - $70 and may be purchased by phoning Tele-Charge at 212.239.6200

posted by Japhy at 4/10/2002 11:29:00 PM || #