A Zombie Show That Leaves You Laughing

Sheryl (stacymadson), Carol (Becky Cofta), Dan (Ken Miller), and Ben (Phillip Steenbekkers). Photo by Jake Badovski, Kłamię Studios.

It would be easy to look at the monthly calendar and dismiss Bed and Breakfast of the Damned as just another obvious gimmick to take advantage of Halloween and the current penchant for zombie TV shows. The theme of humans hiding out from the zombie universe – and fighting back tooth and nail as it were – might normally lead stage comedies to settle for the obvious, scrambling meaninglessly around slamming doors, imminent zombie bites and wolflike howls off stage right.

So easy – and you’d be so wrong. The timing is certainly deliberate. The description of the zombie invasion is certainly the fantasy at hand. But this production from a company that has grown from local roots, the Constructivists, ought to be a delight for every regular theatergoer, and it cannot be dismissed as the work of amateurs playing around with Halloween.

There is that exuberance of acting unknowns, but there is also technical prowess offstage and on, an eagerness to get down and dirty with our myths about human behavior and a savvy use of the full array of theater devices by director (and Constructivists leading light) Jaimelyn Gray.

It features a cast I partly know and partly don’t (only a few have been acting in the circles that produce union cards).

Though full of vulgar words and deadpan reactions in the middle of horror, it is built along the classic Feydeau farce formula of slamming doors (five in all) behind which terrible things spill out onto the stage, sometimes neatly hidden by the furniture. Hickeys and worse skin discolorations abound at this B&B, deliciously furnished in a pug motif (as in dogs), an unlikely hideaway for humans surrounded by a zombie takeover.

The innkeeper seems in a constant drug haze, his helper is eager to kill with a studded baseball bat, his wife is a sex-crazed Witch of the West eager to nibble on everyone in sight, including the helper’s wife — and enter two lovebirds looking for refuge.

This may be advertised as a world premiere, but playwright Cameron McNary is no amateur in experience or in construction. He selects carefully from our zombie fetishes and adroitly picks lines from famous films that sneak in from the side. Plus he constructs characters along proven farce lines. The doors, the furniture and the spilled motel goodies are a balletic prop motif. This is a farce that understands how theater works and knows that it sometimes takes even more care to make the ridiculous believable.

McNary (or the actors out of necessity) overextend some comic gimmicks, such as grimaces and double-takes, and setup requires the actors to not see what they should see – even though it happens right in front of them. The innkeeper’s behavior needs a little more work. But the playwright and the director have timed the events meticulously, not just for smiles but for those little excursions into how the human mind pretends not to notice.

Usually I enjoy audience responses, but here opening night was like too many friends of the cast in the house, anticipating a gesture or a comic move. This cast didn’t need the sort of help and wisely didn’t react to it either (these actors are hardly beginners). Even if sometimes there was too much effort in showing the exertion, telegraphing the change in attitude, or double-dipping on a laugh line, there were notable performances from Matthew Scales, Ken Miller and stacymadson (it is her preference to be lower-case one word), deliciously rapacious as the crazed sex fiend.

Molly Kempfer wins the best acrobat award for how she contorts, and while Phillip Steenbekkers has multiple mood reversals and attitude shifts in the plot, he handles most quite well – we like him throughout. Becky Cofta should trust her natural talent and her instinct to react – occasionally she pushed when not needed in comedy.

The program provides a thoughtful and mind-evoking director’s note from Gray plus it treats cast, crew and understudies to the detailed profiles usually left to the principals.

You can take a bite out of Bed and Breakfast of the Damned for six more shows through Nov. 7, occupying dates more familiar to patrons of the Milwaukee Chamber Theatre, in the 100-seat studio space at the Broadway Theatre Center. The box office number is 414-291-7800. For ticketing questions see tickets@skylightmusictheatre.org

Bed and Breakfast of the Damned Gallery

Dominique Paul Noth served for decades as film and drama critic, later senior editor for features at the Milwaukee Journal. You’ll find his blog here and here. For his Dom’s Snippets, a family history and memoir, go to domnoth.substack.com

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