Armchair America
The title of Armchair America, and the high camp of its promotional materials, seem to indicate that a cultural exploration of armchairs will take place. Some of the play is comprised of this type of analysis: We are introduced to a band of 11 characters (and the armchairs in question, via slides), whose testimonies are interspersed with authoritative PBS-like commentary by a narrator (played with headset-wearing, slide-advancing accuracy by Lora Chio).
Amidst a bona fide and well-researched history of the chair, witty and insightful notes are sounded about the overlooked importance of chairs in our society. "Chair propaganda begins in preschool," our narrator informs us (i.e. musical chairs). The most damning ill-wish for one accused of a serious crime? "I hope you get the chair." It was somewhat disappointing, then, when play's main thrust was not one of cultural exploration, but a parade of psychological profiles.
Only in one monologue does the play's own chairology transcend personal neuroses: An angry man expounds his views on women and how they can't possibly appreciate armchairs. This stands out because the person-chair connection isn't so immediately lucid, and seems to make a statement broader than that of just one person.
The actors' embodiment of a wide array of characters is to be commended, as are their lightning-quick switches between them. Director Gina Kaufman has done an excellent job of sharpening these transitions, and the pacing is quick but never too manic for the moving moments to sink in. Holt's portrayal of Sassy, one of the feuding sisters, and of a pick-up artist especially stand out, as does Bondi's performance of the pick-up artist's lover. Both actors play both men and women, though Bondi's women tend toward the stereotypical, especially in body language.
Old-school psychology notwithstanding, the show's design elements set a wonderfully campy tone. The narrator's interjections are punctuated by Christopher Leyva's colorful, inspired collages of people's iconic relations to their chairs. Lighting designer Miguel Ringler makes good use of subtly different settings to give the actors a springboard for indicating different characters. And for pre-show music Ellen Santaniello has culled more songs mentioning armchairs than this layperson ever thought might exist.