The Male Intellect: An Oxymoron? | $24-$27 | through July 16 |
Downstairs Cabaret Theatre, 20
Windsor Street, 325-4370,
www.downstairscabaret.com |
The battle of the sexes: age-old revelations
News flash! Men and women are different. You’re shocked,
aren’t you? I know, it’s scandalous news. Take a
minute to digest. This stunning revelation is the theme of The Male Intellect: An Oxymoron?, Robert Dubac’s
one-man show, now playing at the Downstairs Cabaret Theatre.
Bobby, presumably some dramatized version of Dubac himself, awaits a phone call from his estranged
fiancรฉ. (Ben Evans takes over the role from Dubac
late this month.) On her way out the door she informed Bobby, “I want what
every woman wants…Figure it out!” She promised to call in two weeks. That was
one week, 6 days, and approximately 23 hours ago. He considers the downfall of
their relationship and tries to remember the name of her cat, the little
creature that, when Bobby refused to allow the pussy between the sheets, became
the straw that broke the relationship camel’s back. The cat is named for what
all women (supposedly) want. Bobby figures that if he can remember the name, he
can save his relationship.
The set represents Bobby’s brain. On his right side, the
feminine, emotional side, is a blank chalkboard. Bobby
needs to fill this board in order to fulfill his fiancรฉ’s needs. On the left,
his male, logical side, is a clutter of discarded
clothes, reference books, a worn couch, cases of beer, and a small T.V. with a
bra stretched across the antenna. Symbolic of all the crap that blocks his
truly understanding his woman, the “logical” side is where Bobby claims men
spend 90 percent of their time. By the way, check out the gaping hole in the
plaster, which looks suspiciously likes a cat’s head.
Dubac has created a cast of
chauvinists, from whom Bobby has learned all he knows about women. In this
case, it’s the blind leading the blind. The chauvinists are stock characters:
the Colonel, Jean-Michel, Fast Eddie, Old Mr. Linger, and Ronnie Cabrezzi. They are stereotypes: the southern hunter, the
chain smoking Frenchie, the Fonzie
wannabe, the dirty old man, and the tough Guido. Each character is amusing,
even if you’ve seen them all before. Each takes his turn giving Bobby advice,
each lending one characteristic to the list of traits he must embody in order
to satisfy his fiancรฉ. Of course, each character is capable of providing only
one trait necessary to satisfy a woman.
Jean-Michel is a philosophy student who spits out deep
musings like, “Women don’t need to think, they know
everything.” He goes on about how sexy it is to speak French, but never
actually speaks any French. The Colonel steps right out of a Jeff Foxworthy
redneck sketch with his insights on informing women up front that he’s an
asshole. And Fast Eddie, the “passion philanthropist,” is an attempt, gone
awry, to stuff Jack Nicholson into a Fonzie costume.
Old Mr. Linger, the centenarian bachelor still fishing for
Miss Right, is charming and does have the great sense of humor he purports to.
He claims that as long as he has something to wait for, he’ll never die. And
he’s waiting for the perfect woman. Although the faux Bronx accent is a muddled
impression of Father Guido Sarducci and Speedy
Gonzalez, Ronnie Cabrezzi is undeniably charming with
his whining, machine gun of a laugh and his “not afraid of nothin'”
view on sensitivity.
The most entertaining pieces of the show occur when Dubac drops the stale characters and returns to believable,
everyday guy Bobby. His honest appraisal of the breakdown of a relationship
hits home. You won’t hear anything that hasn’t been hashed and rehashed on
countless sitcoms in the battles of the sexes, but you’ll be engaged and
inspired to chuckle.
This article appears in Jun 21-27, 2006.
