If
you’re going to write a one-woman play that is largely about drinking and
vomiting, it helps if you’re an engaging and at times electric actor.
Thankfully, that’s what writer-performer Amy Schwabauer has going for her in
this apparently autobiographical journey through bottles of wine, whiskey and
cans of beer to supposed self-understanding.
Along
the way, in a fairly randomly arranged series of vignettes, most of them wryly
amusing, she touches on aspects of her life and traumas of various sizes (her
granddad’s suicide, her inability to land a boyfriend, the pain of losing her
dog Scout). Utilizing a tall stepladder, a desk and a couple other pieces of
furniture and some props, Schwabauer manages to keep her personal skein of
miseries, disappointments and small joys quite interesting. Up to a point.
But
somewhere about the one-hour mark of this 80-minute one act, when we’ve had
several vomiting events (most expelled from mouth, one swallowed), that particular
dramatic device begins to feel more pathological than theatrical. And while the
playwright’s courage with self revelation is bracing, the puking becomes
overkill after a while.
That’s
too bad, since actor Schwabauer definitely commands the stage and can tell an
anecdote with flair and, yes, subtlety—whenever playwright Schwabauer permits
her the opportunity. Early on, her recollections of her star turn as a
six-year-old at her teenage brother’s party is a hoot. And her continuing
reflections about a lonesome whale and the wintering habits of koi fish show
potential as interesting metaphors.
But
just when you’re about to get drawn in to the story of this young woman and her
battle against multiple insecurities, here comes another drinking jag and another
puke. Those showy moments tend overshadow the pieces that actually work better,
giving the entire work a veneer of repetitiveness.
And
then, Schwabauer falls into the trap that snags many young writers when she
decides to wrap it all up with a neat moral at the end—“Just like yourself
more!”—instead of leaving the lessons for the audience to discover.
Still,
Schwabauer is very talented and she will no doubt find better vehicles in the
future that don’t “throw up” so many obstacles.
This
Is NOT About My Dead Dog
Through
January 28, produced by Playwrights Local at Creative Space at Waterloo Arts, 397
East 156 St., playwrightslocal.org.
