Pitbulls

No canines are harmed in the Rattlestick Playwrights Theater world premiere of Pitbulls, but if you don't think you can stomach the sight of a dog's severed head in a bowling bag, chances are this raucous new work by Keith Josef Adkins isn't for you. It might be best you look past it, however, because Pitbulls winds up an enjoyable experience, however far from perfect it is.

Adkins sets the play in the backwoods of Appalachian Ohio, near the river, where Mary (Yvette Ganier) and her son Dipper (Maurice Williams) have lived for some time in a rusty trailer. Mary has herself a little cottage industry: She makes what she calls "real grape wine," and has Dipper sell it to cars sitting in traffic. But Dipper might be doing other things, like burning the American flag and, for some reason, killing pit bulls. That's not something anyone should be doing in general, but on a day like the Fourth of July, when the town's mayor hosts an annual summit where the strongest dogs fight to the death, it's even worse.

The dog head in the bag belongs to the mayor's prized pit, whose sudden demise on this all important day is investigated by Virgil (Billy Eugene Jones), the sadistic sheriff who knows exactly where to look. Virgil has several problems with this mother-son duo and is unafraid to make it known, any way he can.

It takes a few scenes before you realize Adkins is writing a trailer-trash dark comedy in the style of early Tracy Letts (it's particularly reminiscent of the similarly trailer-park set Killer Joe, though far less menacing). The characters are vivid, the dialogue hilariously raunchy (many lines earn hearty laughs, though the shiniest gem: "He's no father. Just the sperm that bamboozled my egg."). While Leah C. Gardiner's staging doesn't really cover up the few plot holes or justify the presence of two ancillary characters (Nathan Hinton and Donna Duplantier, particularly adept at getting laughs), the production moves swiftly and the actors deliver. Jones in particular is excellent, beginning as a slimy caricature and quietly adding more heart until you realize the character is human after all.

The design elements are part of what makes the show worth seeing. Andrew Boyce has created a huge set, complete with what resembles an actual trailer taking up half of the tiny Rattlestick stage. It's a truly lived-in environment he has designed, complete with a washing machine humorously placed in the backyard. Dede Ayite's hippie-chic costumes fit the characters, while Eric Southern's lighting and Bart Fasbender's sound further the mood. When we hear the dogs start barking, they seem like they're actually behind us.

In the end, Pitbulls amounts to one of the bigger and better surprises of the current off-Broadway season. Once you understand what Adkins is doing, you'll be more than happy to take his ride into the rough and tumble world of these deliciously eccentric hillbillies.