Department stores are public enemy – ehm, Grinch? – numero uno during the peppermint and pine-stained month that is December. Sharp-elbowed madres with no qualms about tossing those suckers into doughy abdomens in and around the bargain bin? Check. A handful of trebly Christmas tunes played on the PA system ad nauseam? Rockin’ Around the – check. And, of course, sinuous, ceaseless lines filled with teary-eyed tots forced into having a word with a certain red-suited, white-bearded bloke? Check off your whole wish list with that one.
For shoppers, they’re a momentary, willful step into the candy cane-laden heart of darkness. Just replace Kurtz with St. Nick. For the sad-souled employees of these lifeless institutions, they’re a depraved, iron maiden-like torture device that happens to shell out a meager paycheck – very meager for the toil and strife endured.
Comedian/satirist David Sedaris was one of those destitute souls sucked into the retail vortex some years ago, assuming the persona of Crumpet the elf at famed shopping mecca Macy’s in New York. Unluckily for Sedaris, his experience was filled with cracked smiles, abhorrent customers and boozy Santas. Luckily for the American public, he’s one of sharpest social commentators of our time, and turned his sentence, er, experience into a slap-stickish, caustic stage show. Enter: The Santaland Diaries.
Originally an essay penned by Sedaris in 1992, TSD was adapted for the stage by Joe Mantello in 1996 and has been a spiky holiday staple ever since. That is, without any sugarplums and more “f*** yous” than fairy dust. The Denver Center for the Performing Arts has thrust this sassy show onto the stage for the past couple of years, and through a collaboration between Off Center and the Boulder Ensemble Theater Company, they’ve brought it back in 2014 with golden-voiced actor Matt Zambrano and director Stephen Weitz leading the charge from the Jones Theater stage.
Just like last year, Zambrano is an entertaining theatrical education in “Santaland,” hitting his cues with impressive bravado and providing just the right dose of needed physical comedy. He kills his impersonations — ranging from a bubble-gum chewing waitress to a parch-voiced Macy’s interviewer who sounds like she’s been puffing Kools since the Reagan Administration — with punch and pizazz. One of the best doses of the former of those descriptors comes when Zambrano depicts waving to passersby in the Macy’s front display window when a heckler walks by and shouts in a gruff, New York accent, “You look so f****** stupid.” Call it crass, but profanity, especially in an accent, is always funny.
Those impersonations are the main ask of an actor in “Santaland,” as the bulk of the show and humor stands on the writing. Thankfully, Zambrano fills that void expertly and appropriately doesn’t try to step onto the toes of the prose. Phew. But to Zambrano’s chagrin, that really is the star of the show: the topsy-turvy, aggressive essay-writing that got Sedaris the notoriety he currently enjoys and employed in bestsellers “Naked” and “Me Talk Pretty One Day.” The work was originally read on NPR’s Morning Edition and later tweaked for an episode of This American Life, and it feels like it. “Santaland” comes across much more like a live reading of either of those than a play.
Perhaps the most unexpected piece of the show is how misleading the title is. For as thick as the folks at Off Center lay on the whole holiday vibe — replete with tinseled everything and entirely elven theater staff – the show is really a depiction of the blight of the American retail employee and all of the head-banging encounters he/she endures more than anything. There’s plenty of complaining about dealing with New Jersey guidos and Schnopps-guzzling Santa Clauses (looking at you Billy Bob Thornton) behind a relatively sheer glaze of “the holidays” ontop of it all. At its core, it’s a diatribe against American self-centeredness and consumerism. Appleby’s employees, get your tickets now.
For as good as Sedaris is with his pen, there are still a handful of pandering moments that come off as more cringe-inducingly offensive than comical. A repeated dig at “retards,” met deserved crickets and a couple racial slights didn’t play out quite as well onstage as perhaps they do on paper. Perhaps. Sedaris is so observant and acerbic in his writing, it’s disappointing to hear mention of something you might hear during an elementary school recess. If that’s being too PC and too “millennial” for you, then buzz off.
But, if you don’t mind a few less-than-lowbrow moments and enjoy some ribbing of the droves of lobotomy-worthy holiday shoppers, this is the show for you. Oh, and if you can stomach the whole shtick of wearing an elf name tag, urinating in a tinsel-wrapped bathroom and hearing a retrospective of Christmas music from the past 30 years. But above all, TSD is a waggish letup from the slew of other Christmas dregs that have bounced around America’s collective heads for the past century. Zambrano shines like Rockefeller Center and Sedaris’ whole tell-it-like-it-is aesthetic roars with a biting zip.
[wc_fa icon=”star” margin_left=”” margin_right=””][/wc_fa][wc_fa icon=”star” margin_left=”” margin_right=””][/wc_fa][wc_fa icon=”star” margin_left=”” margin_right=””][/wc_fa][wc_fa icon=”star-half-full” margin_left=”” margin_right=””][/wc_fa][wc_fa icon=”star-o” margin_left=”” margin_right=””][/wc_fa]
The Santaland Diaries runs at the Jones Theater, on the corner of Speer Blvd. and Arapahoe St., at the Denver Center for Performing Arts through Dec. 27. Tickets start at $40. Showtimes are as follows:
7 p.m. Tues. – Thurs., Sun.
8 p.m. Fri, Sat.
3 p.m. Sat., Sun.
No show on Christmas Day. Call 800.641.1222 or visit denvercenter.org for more information.