By Stuart Miller…
Natalie Palamides plays both sides of a couple in this laugh-a-minute clowning play.
It’s New Year’s Eve, 1999, and amidst the partying and anxiety about Y2K, Mark and Christina are having a blow out argument. Much later in “Weer” we learn in flashbacks that volatility is the norm for this couple– thanks to Mark’s wandering eye and Christina’s refusal to let go of her former fiance Rob, they break up with distressing regularity. But this alcohol-fueled feud is the final one, ending with a drunk driving accident, a giant buck’s antlers and ultimately, a spray of shotgun bullets.
The end of this tumultuous relationship in gruesome violence is far from tragic, however– even, or especially, when the blood is spurting and characters are nearing death, the audience is roaring with laughter. That’s due to the constant comic ingenuity of Natalie Palamides in this satirical, sometimes shocking, homage to romcoms.
Palamides, who also wrote and directed “Weer,” offers a master class in clowning, playing both characters simultaneously: half of her is Mark from head (including a mustache and beard) to toe and half is Christina, even as she executes several costume changes mid-action or strips down for multiple sex scenes. (She maximizes the silliness potential in the swinging, floppy phallus.)
Palamides swerves back and forth between Mark and Christina whether they’re dancing, fighting, making out, making love or dying– she’s always in perfect control of her body language and timing even though the action is so raucous that it seems totally spontaneous. Given that the show is playing with rom-com cliches, it’s also remarkable how unpredictable every second is in this warped version of reality.
She has also a brilliantly constructed set that allows her to grab props or pull strings that bring elements of the story to life. She’s suddenly driving a car, then crashing into a deer, then bleeding out from the antler that impaled her. Or, in the flashback to Mark and Christina’s 1996 meet-cute, Mark gets drenched by a taxi. As their relationship progresses, implodes, and repeats, there are also scenes in a nightclub, a living room, a shower, a bed, and even heaven.
(Give plenty of credit as well to the ingenuity of scenic designer Gabriel Evansohn, Lucas A. Degirolamo for the props and costume designer Ashley Dudek for making Palamides’ vision feasible.)
Palamides also breaks the fourth wall, whether it’s with meta-lines about being half a man or smirks at the audience that feel reminiscent of Jim on “The Office” glancing to the camera to acknowledge the silliness of it all. And there’s audience participation too (although I noticed that she steered clear of shy people who looked away as she sought people out)– two people are brought onstage to flesh out the nightclub scene and others help from their seats, most notably someone who gets chosen to play Rob in a phone call. (Our show had an enthusiastic performer with improv skills and impeccable timing that surprised Palamides.)
If that all feels like a lot, it is. The jokes, both visual and verbal, fly fast and furious, as do cultural references to everything from Looney Tunes to Pearl Jam to “Romeo and Juliet” and an assortment of liquids, powders, fake flowers and props that turn the stage into a comedy tornado.
Not every bit– either the jokes or the efforts to shock us– work and there are a few moments where the pacing lags, but that’s true of even our most beloved comedies. The beloved gag-a-minute movie “Airplane” has some slower stretches too. Yet for the most part, “Weer’s” relentless frenzy works even if, like “Airplane,” this show is not really about much. Palomides seems mostly intent on clowning as hard as humanly possible in order to leave us gasping and laughing at the absurdity of it all. And in the end, we’re (“Weer”) at her mercy.
“Weer” is playing at the Cherry Lane Theatre, 38 Commerce Street through December 21st. Run time is 80-90 minutes (varying based, I guess on the audience participation among other things).
Photo Credit: Cherry Lane Theatre / A24
