Dysfunction doesn’t even begin to describe the sunken depths of the Scully family in “Ghosts in the Cottonwoods,” now getting its premiere from the Rivendell Theatre Ensemble.
As Adam Rapp’s idiosyncratic black comedy opens, a mother named Bean (Peggy Dunne) administers medications to the body of her nude son, Pointer (George McConnell), whose skin is dotted with unexplained sores. He’s a disco wannabe, dancing to a ghetto blaster and parading around in elevator shoes, while shaking off his mother’s incestuous pawings. An uncle is said to be both wall-eyed and missing a digit, and in riotous understatement, someone admits, “We’re not the readin’ type.”
Their home-made frame dwelling, thanks to the rain pouring down on their Appalachian cliff side, is about to fall victim to a mud slide–a recurring event the family has learned to live with. Hope, or what must pass for it, is on the way in the form of a woman named Shirley (Callie Beaulieu), pregnant with Pointer’s child, and the long-awaited return of the other Scully offspring, an inmate named Jeffcat (Shannon Parr), scheduled to dig a tunnel and escape from prison on the evening of the story. A gentleman caller named Newt (Nathan Rankin) comes tumbling through the door first, muddy, shot in the leg and seemingly smitten with mama Bean.
In structure, casual absurdity and outlandish antics, “Cottonwoods” seems a direct descendent of dozens of dramas over the recent past, especially those from the pen of Sam Shepard. Although Rapp has his own kinky imagination, his often funny play comes off a bit shopworn in its hillbilly shake-and-bake. But he has a wondrous ear for language, inventing colorful speech for these folk and injecting many a jarring line throughout the proceedings: “You don’t know me from a can of grease.”
While trimming might heighten its impact (it runs as a two-hour, intermissionless one-act), “Cottonwoods” does manage some punches via Rapp’s audacious images: Rankin, for instance, superb as the interloper, rolling around on the floor in bloody torment, and the creepy arrival of Parr as Jeffcat, a primal mongrel caked in slimy ooze thanks to his escape, the weather and his destiny.
Though working with a low budget, Rivendell meets the challenges of Rapp’s goofy denoument, managing to suggest the collapse of the house with wit and storefront invention. Sharply directed by Jeremy Cohen, the players dive head-first into the cartoon world Rapp hands them, Parr in particular managing a funny, movie-monster presence. “Ghosts” is not ready for the big time, but it’s a pleasant alternative to holiday cheer and respectability.
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“Ghosts in the Cottonwoods”
When: Through Dec. 19
Where: Victory Gardens Upstairs Studio, 2257 N. Lincoln Ave.
Phone: 773-871-3000
