AURORA | Vengeance and football — that’s what Philadelphia does.
Well, at least for the next month or so at The Vintage Theatre in Aurora.
The peculiar trio of the cheesesteak city, retribution and the brassy spiritualism of a certain “buh-buh-buh-buuuuum” courtesy of the American Monday night tradition makes for an oddly heady backdrop in the Vintage’s fall production, “Any Given Monday.”
But before any images of an apricot-faced Al Pacino, Dennis Quaid or jaded Monday Night watch parties with half-a-dozen hands plunged into waistbands and bowls of Fritos wholeheartedly discredit the show as one for gridiron goons, it must be clarified that “Monday” is far more than cheap football frills.
Penned by Philly juggernaut Bruce Graham in 2010, the show offers a sharp, vitriolic take on suburban monotony while simultaneously mincing nearly every hot button in the zeitgeist of the untouchable — with startling success.
The story centers on Lenny (Robert Kramer), a docile school teacher who has just seen his marriage of 24 years crumble at the feet of fleeting infidelity and longstanding inaction. After his wife, Risa (Michelle Grimes), leaves him for a slick Walmart mogul, he has little to quell his shattered, straight-laced psyche than a lovably loud-mouthed buddy (Peter Marullo) and his beloved Eagles.
A handful of punchy twists later, the plot spirals around the philosophical spine — largely thanks to a brainy daughter played artfully by Kelly Dwyer — of what a play-by-the-rules, Al-Bundy-without-a-personality schmuck will do to try and salvage his flimsy nuptials. And for a show that’s theoretically tethered to foam fingers and Sunday afternoon beer bongs, there’s a staggering amount of attention-nabbing intrigue.
From Kramer’s opening mope on the Vintage’s personal stage, the local incarnation of “Monday” is a well-produced, delightfully dark spin on the human condition in 2015. Offering plenty more than just first-down foibles, the show effectively works its way through a dense web of cultural references ranging from Edgar Allen Poe to that gut-wrenching animal cruelty ad made famous by Sarah McLachlan’s sultry vocals and doe-eyed pups.
Penned by Philly juggernaut Bruce Graham in 2010, the show offers a sharp, vitriolic take on suburban monotony while simultaneously mincing nearly every hot button in the zeitgeist of the untouchable — with startling success.
But more than anything, “Monday” proves to be an unexpected lesson in the power of humor by diffusing a bevy of topics with a coating of apposite comedy. It’s a time-proven pathway to success because, well, it’s much easier to chew on the pragmatism of religion with the help of a few waggish one-liners and playful similes.
Each of the four onstage personas score in soliciting cheers and jeers, though to definitively varied degrees of success. Both Kramer and Grimes drill dramatic field goals in their deliveries of guilt-ridden yuppies in the throes of compounding crises. As the esoteric, Brown University philosophy major, Dwyer can lay claim to an onstage pick six, though the Philly accent could use a helping hand.
But even given the offensive success of the show’s familial trio, the game, franchise and league belong to the brazen Marullo. The Amish-bearded braggart is the plot’s lynch-pin and acts as the definitive life force of the production, embodying some sort of riotous hybrid of Bobby Moynihan and Zach Galifianakis. Marullo clobbers through a thicket of dialogical wallops with calculated zip. Not once does he hold back on dropping bombs that rhyme with “duck,” which results in yoking the limelight from beginning to bow.
And despite a story and cast that both perform to deserved acclaim, what stage manager Sierra Halberg, lighting designer Tobias Harding and set designer Jeff Jesmer are able to achieve in such an abbreviated space is nothing short of extraordinary. Polarized tables and well-timed lighting cues create moral end zones that ping-pong attention back and forth, and diametrically opposed wall decorations — literature on one end and Phillies pennants on the other — generate a poignant yet subtle dichotomy. Picasso’s famous Don Quixote is a flawless exclamation point that is rife with symbolism for hapless Lenny as Don and Marullo’s screwball Mickey as Sancho.
Notwithstanding a few flickering stage lights and forgivable miscues, the Vintage crew’s “Monday” is an enjoyable, albeit fatalistic two-act experience. Like the Bruces, Davids and Seinfelds of the world have done for about half-a-century, the show skewers a formidable bundle of taboo topics — touching everything from the Holocaust to racism — with grace and wit. So even if your football expertise is limited to 30-second spots paid for by DirecTV, the production’s sadistic chuckles more than justify the cost of admission.