Review
Mr. Marmalade
Chemically Imbalanced Comedy at Cornservatory. By Noah Haidle. Dir. Dave Whalley. With Matt Hendricks, Brian Kash, Laurel Schroeder, Marz Timms.
The taboo that Noah Haidle plays with here (or, more specifically, beats to a pulp) concerns a four-year-old girl with a fantasy lover. He’s a thirtyish, stressed-out businessman who, we learn, has serious coke and drinking habits, an expansive porn collection and a crude arsenal of zingers that wouldn’t be appropriate to print on this page. The girl is bright-eyed (her passion is playing house and doctor), yet also incredibly precocious (she talks about sex, condoms and cocaine as if they were everyday kiddie knowledge). When she meets a boy her own age (an almost too reticent but still fun Hendricks), we’re not surprised when he announces he’s the youngest suicide attempt in New Jersey history.
The girl’s an interesting character, and Schroeder’s enthusiasm works well. In one sense, she’s a blank slate but ultimately worldly and weary enough to relate to. That last detail is what separates this from, say, the dystopias portrayed in Todd Solondz’s films, and makes Marmalade less frightening and more bittersweet.
But that’s a difficult balancing act. During a genuinely heartfelt sequence, the girl talks about being lonely even though she’s with her lover, admitting that her conceptions about love are naive and unattainable. Later on, we sit through a groan-inducing worst-case scenario. In such stark contrast, transitions often feel tipsy. Then again, this company spins much of this in a zany, late night–comedy manner. And, despite our criticisms, Kash’s detailed performance as the spit-upon assistant is one of the funniest things we’ve seen in a while.—Tim Lowery