They come across my inbox like they always do; a cool drink of water— code for ‘new play’— just asking to be looked over. Not in distress or nothing, see? These ‘new works’ they hold their own. But I wouldn’t be a very good T.I. if I didn’t give it a once over, now would I. T.I.? What’s that? You don’t know? Theatrical Investigator. That’s me— Amanda Gunther, T.I. – and this new one— Craft Town? By burgeoning playwright and MET company member Lydia Hadfield? It’s got marks all over it. Marks of a brilliant new comedy that dabbles in a hybrid format of noir-crime-drama-turned-nonsense-meta-masterpiece. Marks of a clever playwright who has a firm grip on the slippery dialogue that all too easily coasts out of them ‘detective-noir’ style narratives. Marks of a solid acting company giving it their all for some of these off-the-wall characters. Marks of— what? What am I still yammering on about the marks for? Sees for yourself, folks. It’s one of them mixed-genre, high-laugh doozies.
Lydia Hadfield— code name: The Playwright. Hadfield’s got something magical and mystical, even, with this hybrid gem of a new play. Craft Town flirts with noir-detective drama in its soliloquy-narrative style. But it lampoons both itself and the format in the way that scenes come apart on either side of their existence when the narrative character of Scotty starts addressing Smartphone (nope. That ain’t a codename, this playwright done went and named a character after technology. And made it ironic in that the character is about as far from his namesake as is humanly possible.) You see the meat— the action— the ‘happening’, as it were— takes place in Craft Town… (not the play, this isn’t Urinetown) a big-box-craft-retailer set in smalltown… the program says ‘Silver City, Maryland’ but if that don’t sound like a red herring when so many of those accents and character stereotypes sound like something out of southwestern, bible-belt America… I don’t know what does. Whatever. ‘Silver City, Maryland.’ And the protagonistic narrator? Scotty? Assistant General Manager of Craft Town.
Flitting back and forth between Craft Town itself, King’s Convenience across the street, the local watering hole called ‘The Grille’, which neither has a grill nor serves any grilled food items on its menu, and this narrative etheric detective-noir-cloud of Scotty’s recollective reflection, the play occurs— as many do— in ‘scenes.’ But in-between some of those scenes is where we get a meta-hilarity breakdown. With the aforementioned Scotty calling out Smartphone. Or Smartphone directly addressing the audience. It’s super sharp in its style, chuckle-worthy for sure, and helps further blur the lines of genre-straddling, or perhaps genre-busting that Craft Town (the play) is doing. Hadfield constructs stereotypes out of some of the peripheral characters but they’re oddly dynamic, which helps build the momentum of the narrative. And her knack for witty dialogue is just aces. Like seriously; one of the tuned-up religious retail workers, says to Scotty, “I’ll pray for you.” And Scotty’s immediate rebuttal? “I can’t stop you.” The razor-wit that’s barbed all throughout the script’s dialogue isn’t just sharp it’s slicing and hilarious.
Hadfield makes a comment on retail-based-capitalistic-America whilst flawlessly weaving this viewpoint into a queer, ‘coming-of-self’ story. Scotty, a trans-male character, is still figuring out his place in the world, his place as the assistant general manager of a seemingly meaningless retail establishment that he may or may not be taking way too seriously, and how he fits into the grander scheme of life. It’s a really impressive narrative; gotta hand it Hadfield. Smart, touching at times, filled with quirky moments, laugh-out-loud moments, and a whole bunch more; Craft Town gets the high-seal of approval for being innovative, refreshing, and a slick, fun, time.
Jeremy Myers: codename? The Director. In charge of the blocking, the moving, the pacing, the timing, and all that jazz…Myers has got his plate full with running a smooth operation and he does so like a big-time hot shot. (Who’da guessed that this was his directorial debut on the mainstage? Anyone who reads cast & creative team bios, I guess, but the point was it ain’t obvious that he’s a mainstage rookie from watching this sleek production.) In-the-round/tennis-court seating gives the audience a unique perspective, almost gives them a cross-sectional observation of all the goings on inside Craft Town. Partner-in-crime Julie Herber: codename— Intimacy & Movement Choreographer, Myers gets to engage the supporting characters in the story as moving furnishable objects. This is particularly true during the ‘King’s Convenience’ scenes where various performers serve as shelves holding shop-n-stop-quick-grab snack products. Everything flows, everything goes, and everything has this natural essence to it. They’re quite a team this Myers & Herber.
David DiFalco: code name: Designer. Specialty? Scenery.
Autumn Carver: code name: Designer. Specialty? Costumes.
Cody James: code name: Designer. Specialty? Lights.
Doug Grove: code name: Designer. Specialty? Sounds.
Thom Huenger: code name: Designer. Specialty? Original music.
That’s the calamity-causing crew to be on the look-out for in this particular case, as it were. Carver brings retail realness to those aprons and polos; you feel like you’re hanging out in an A.C. Moore or a Michael’s just looking at the way the ‘Craft Town’ employees are suited up. James gives similar realness to those lights, especially the ‘moody blues’ effect that creates both an ‘after hours’ aesthetic and a nice mellow atmosphere for Scotty to do noir-esque narration in; it’s an impressive technique. There’s also some drop-ceiling-style track lighting which James has fitted into DiFalco’s set, giving that authentic feel of ‘retail nightmares come home to roost.’ DiFalco sets a scene— literally— with the peg-slat wall fixtures for hanging craft supplies? It all comes together. Grove and Huenger are working together with Grove adding those ‘background’ effects to let you know where you are— The Grille, Craft Town, not-Craft Town— while Huenger gives that persistent under burbling of noir-style-trumpet-elevator music that is a hybrid of jazzy confusion and oddly calming Inception-dreamscape. Huenger’s music is the perfect composition of genre-busting sound that slips over Craft Town like a velvet-leather opera-driving glove.
See? Already I’m being a bad T.I. I forgot to tell you, somewhere back up there in the case file, that inside the plot of Craft Town is the plot that Scotty is trying to unravel. Who stole— whatever high-end fictional scrapbooking stickers that Lydia Hadfield crafted specifically for this play— from Craft Town and why. There’s theft a’brewin’ in Craft Town and Scotty’s on the case. So you’ve got the usual suspects:
Shay (Karli Cole) the too-high-strung-for-her-own-good, perpetually and frenetically in-motion part-timer with too many problems in her personal life and too many words coming out of her mouth all at once.
Barb (Julie Herber) the “I’ll-pray-for-you” good Christian type who has opinions that rub people the wrong way even though she means well.
Lindsay (Lauren Johnson) the space-cadet who’s probably on drugs and google maps simply does not go to wherever it is that she calls ‘reality.’
Paulette (Jean Rosolino) the cantankerous old biddy who’s working for the sake of working and don’t give a hoot about the product she’s pedaling or the crappy co-workers or crappy customers she has to deal with day in and day out.
You put those four together and you’ve got hilarity in a handbag. Which you could probably buy a pattern for somewhat in Craft Town. Or at the very least buy the fabric from Paulette (Rosolino) over in the fabric department. Rosolino epitomizes the crabby nature of an older employee who has zero flying-figs to give about her lazy, lackadaisical coworkers, who wants everyone fired, and who like to complain. Big time. She’s a hoot! Herber, who shows up a big-talking Barb, mouth rolling a mile-a-minute with all her theories and accidental oopsie-daisies, affects that ‘good southern Christian woman’ accent to her voice like second-skin. Her timing is so exacting when it comes to clapping back with those awkward one-liner responses to Scotty (especially when discussing his situation as a trans-individual) that you get the bristle, the chuckle, and the ‘aah, product of her generation but she means well’ all wound-up in one pristine package, topped with a bow from the ribbon-section.
Karli Cole is stealing scenes, stealing laughs…heck, her character might even be stealing stickers (*remains to be seen*) but she’s equal parts hilarious and desperate. When she starts spouting off at the mouth, especially carrying on about her pants, it’s something else entirely. Cole, like the rest of the ensemble performers in this piece, really has a handle on the depth of these potentially static characters; between Cole’s aptitude for vibrancy and Hadfield’s impressive pen when it comes to constructing characters, you get a great experience just watching her and the others carry on as the play rolls itself along.
Lindsay. Lindsay. Lindsay. What are we gonna do with this duplicate of the ‘Zoomer: you-can’t-make-me-whatever-who-gives-a-fluck’ incarnate in this character of Lindsay? Lauren Johnson is a double agent, playing up this character two-ways. There’s the absolutely ‘cannot reach her via google maps or otherwise’ spacy approach to Lindsay and then there’s the fiercely defensive ‘what are you gonna do, rat me out, whatever!’ approach. Johnson masters both making Lindsay an extreme person of interest in Craft Town and in ‘Craft Town’ (see what I did there?)
Big Kate: codename— The Boss. The Manager. In-charge. (at this performance, Melynda Wintrol) She’s got all the warm and fuzzy attachment of a porcupine dipped in icicles. Wintrol is another one who affects an accent and it fits the bill for this particular production. Stoic and quiet, Wintrol gives that reverberating ‘retail-realness’ that you’d expect from an exasperated and exhausted manager of a failing store in a chain of stores across America. And she doubles up as the bartender at ‘The Grille’. A double agent? Quite. Possibly.
Then there’s Kayla. Mallorie Stern takes up that role. A McDonald’s worker. And that’s all. Or is it? That’s one mystery you have to solve on your own, folks. But I’ll give you this— a little jump-off clue or tip or whatever you wanna call it— Stern isn’t messing around. She’s a performance threat— as in, very talented? Definitely has you thinking one thing or two things or hell, even all the things, and is definitely doing something else. Or is she? Very enigmatic. Very mysterious. Or maybe, just like any good mystery… a total and complete red herring…
That brings us to…well, every case has one. That extra-special, oddball who you spend most of the case scratching your head over, trying to figure out what they’re doing there in the first place? Enter Smartphone (Stephen Craig.) Quite possibly from way, far, far away on the astral plane, Stephen Craig’s character defies description. On wheels. Literally. What Craig does best is convince you he’s lousy at skating. Which is a talent in and of itself because in order to look lousy at being on roller skates in that carefully constructed intimate play space, you actually have to be very, very good on skates. So between the crazy skating and the absolutely ‘out-there’-ness of the character, Craig has his work cut out for him. And he succeeds. If the genres are mixed and busted and blending and breaking out in Craft Town, Smartphone is that zany glittery off-brand glue that’s trying to cohere them back together. Part comic relief, part nutsy-breakout-from-the-writers-brain, part-intrigue, part-mystery, part-doozy. And Craig manages all of that. While on skates. Baffling. But beautiful.
One would think it would be an open and shut case— a great new work, if a bit strange though in a very enjoyable fashion— except there’s one missing piece. AJ George-Wright. That’s right, you guessed it, gumshoes, AJ George-Wright is the noir-narrative-protagonist Scotty Delrio. And he does a superb job in the role too. Another one that makes you do a double take because if you read the cast bios…it says right there in plaint text that “…excited to make his mainstage performance debut…” but that doesn’t seem possible given how confident, how practiced, and how impressive George-Wright is on stage. It’s like he’s acting or something. Go figure. The character of Scotty is loaded with nuance, chock-a-block with cheeky commentary, and is trying to keep to that noir-detective style during the soliloquy-side-addresses, all of which George-Wright does and does so sublimely. There’s a narrative realness to George-Wright’s approach and there’s a genuine frustration in the scenes where things feel like they’re going nowhere fast. It’s very, very impressive first-go for this one.
That. Now that should make it an open and shut case. A mystery? Nah. Only if you’re trying to figure out why you still haven’t gotten tickets to Craft Town. Do yourself and this office a favor, folks. Punch the clock to ticket-town…specifically tickets to Craft Town, and you’ll have a really fun evening, a little quirky, a little sentimental, a whole lotta entertaining; take my word for it. I’m a T.I., after all.
Running Time: Approximately 2 hours with one intermission
Craft Town plays through April 23rd 2023 on the Main Stage of the Maryland Ensemble Theatre in the Historic FSK Hotel building— 31 W. Patrick street in downtown historic Frederick, MD. For tickets call the box office at (301) 694-4744 or purchase them online.
