People work hard their whole lives, they provide for themselves and whoever depends on them, and the lucky ones live long enough to reap the ultimate reward: griping about their ungrateful children. Playwright Londos D’Arrigo takes the thankless-generation cynicism to the extreme in Spreading it Around, a farce that makes no bones about glorifying its acerbic outlook. Meadow Brook Theatre now gives the comedy its Michigan premiere, which director Travis W. Walter ensconces in broad, unmistakable exaggerations that aptly complement an outlandish premise.
The phrase “gated community” need only be repeated so many times before a certain level of financial comfort is successfully evoked, and the distinctively lush surroundings of this cavernous residence leave no room for doubt. New-construction anonymity and untouched, impractical, match-y furniture and décor are the signature of set designer Brian Kessler’s concise sold-everything-and-retired-to-Florida story. Lighting by Reid G. Johnson grounds a soaring ceiling with overhead fixtures and gives loving glimpses of the sunny outdoors. Sound design by Mike Duncan turns tunes of a certain age into a peppy grab bag blending tropical and materialistic. The concept is unified by a playfully pervasive visual theme, which rewards attentive viewers with its thorough application and charming Easter-egg surprises.
The house’s owner is one Angie Drayton (Mary Robin Roth), a widowed grandma with energy to burn and compassion to spare. Proudly self-sufficient and practical, she calls on neighbor Martin Wheeler (Michael Gillespie) to help with home repairs, and likes the thermostat kept low. When she’s struck with a lightning-bolt idea about making a difference, Martin is on hand to help Angie establish a foundation to redirect her nest egg to people in need. Starry-eyed and seemingly unimpeachable, the concept is nevertheless infused with bitterness: they name the organization Spending It Now, campaigning to other seniors to stick it to their entitled children and reroute their investments to more appreciative recipients. Roth and Gillespie don’t shy away from the crassness and resentment, teeing up Catskills-type one-liners and overblown choices so venomous, they threaten to make the characters unsympathetic.
The extremity of the play’s negative take on birthrights and progeny in general has only one hope for successful execution — the children must be as horrible as they’re described. For this purpose, the production detonates its deplorable, glorious secret weapon: Angie’s sleazy son Larry (Eric Gutman) and superficial daughter-in-law Traci (Janet Caine). The two descend uninvited onto Angie’s house, every bit as entitled and conniving as our heroes fear, with a finger firmly on the disrupted pulse of their inheritance. In a superb comic coupling, Gutman cultivates the thinnest veneer of concern that wraps tight over his naked greed, and Caine spins expected notes of disdain, absentee parenting, and vanity into a spectacular harridan. Designer Erin Benjamin’s costuming finds a champion in shop-happy Traci, topping herself in every conceivable tacky-trendy couture indulgence. Simultaneously antagonistic and train-wreck entertaining, their awfulness becomes its own brand of wonderful: first, a tailor-made misunderstanding makes way for wildly excessive reactions, and later, Larry contrives to “save” Angie from herself and protect his familial investment. Involving desperate deception and a reluctant mental health professional (Loren Bass), the climactic machinations weirdly fail to telegraph the characters’ intentions as well as the pointed extremes preceding them.
Although the plot shows its definite shortfalls, the story in Spreading it Around seems like little more than a means to an end. In this production, that end is a hammy skewering that plays to the back row, matching extreme motives with even more extreme characterizations and goofball lightness. In all, though, cartoonish is the right choice for such a mockingly disdainful world as this, and the approach pays off handily in its scoundrels: viewers who appreciate the art in wickedness will find much to love to hate.