Thou Shall Not Kill

Remaining performances:
July 17 at 9:45 pm; July 19 at 2:15 pm

They say: “A collection of stimulating and comedic one-acts asking the question, ‘Can’t murder be innocent?’ Join a variety of imaginative characters portraying how naively one’s mind can contemplate murder. This show will challenge your own morals and leave you wanting more!”

Sheffy says: Remember how much fun you had in your Philosophy 101 class debating questions like: Is it ethical to kill someone in self-defense or in war? What about assassinating Hitler? If you could prevent someone from being killed, are you culpable if you don’t? Now imagine listening to that debate rehashed for 120 straight minutes. I get it, every scenario is unique, but to make your point, do you really need to beat it over the head with a brick (uh, literally)?

The cast does an admirable job keeping the audience’s attention, particularly the charismatic female actresses, who unfortunately only appear in two of the acts. However, instead of some serious editing, the show opted to save time by skipping an intermission and having the actors talk fast (though otherwise their Southern drawls were convincing).

If the playwrights seriously wanted to engage the audience in a moral debate, the scenarios would have to be grounded in sociological motives for real murder—say, passion, money, revenge, or maybe some juicy sexual infidelity. But by staying in philosophy class, they never transcend a cartoonish view on why someone might be driven to murder. Although they retread ideas from Crime and Punishment (killing just because you can get away with it), the writing just ain’t Dostoevsky.

See it if: You’ve ever watched a murder unfold on CSI and thought to yourself, “I could have done it better!”

Skip it if: You can’t conceive of a two-hour dialectic on murder that doesn’t even mention Kant. Or, you’ve never actually contemplated killing someone: by Act 3 or 4, you just might start looking around for someone responsible to kill.

Remaining Performances:
Saturday, July 19 @ 8:30pm
Wednesday, July 23 @ 6:30pm
Saturday, July 26 @ 3:30pm

They say: “What the hell were they thinking? The delightfully perplexed characters in this trio of one-acts cope with the unintended consequences that ensue when the INS investigates illegal trafficking in undocumented genies, the Devil issues an RFP for a consultant, and an agenda-less retreat ends improbably, yet inevitably, in romance.”

Glen’s take: The laudable mission statement of the recently formed Senior Moments Theatre Company (“To encourage and support emerging dramatists over 55″) probably had a lot to do with the demographic makeup of Unintended Consequences‘ Sunday afternoon crowd, which, I merely note, skewed a bit more, ah, Applebee’s-five-o’clock-dinner-rush than Fringe audiences generally do.

Look: I get that satire is inherently pushy. It is, after all, just Funny With Something to Prove. But the trick of it — the way you get audiences to swallow your pill — is to spend more time worrying about the Funny than the Something to Prove. Satire goes wrong when its makers are so keen to poke you in the ribs that they neglect to tickle them.

Take the first two playlets in Unintended Consequences, both of which suffer from being overwritten and broadly performed. That, as it turns out, is a near deadly combination, because by insisting so shrilly and laboriously on their central satirical premises (Genies = Illegal Immigrants and Consultants = Satan), both plays reveal how little value they place on things like character, dialogue and recognizable emotion.

But as soon as the third and final one-act starts, something happens. Something surprising, and really kinda great. Even though its satiric premise isn’t particularly fresh (just some familiar pokes at meeting facilitators and org-speak), even though it’s written by the same guy responsible for the genie comedy you sat through earlier, that last play hits you like a revelation, for two reasons: Karen Lange, as a hopeful Arts Administrator, and Washington Improv Theater regular Stuart Scotten, as a hesitant meeting attendee. These two performers concentrate on creating characters — rounded, funny, utterly believable characters — and allow themselves to find the script’s jokes, instead of lunging at them.  Scotten in particular offers a master class in what offhand, unforced comic timing can do for a production; as a result, precisely 33.3% of Unintended Consequences is easily the best thing in Fringe I’ve seen so far.

See if if: You are possessed of both a Zen-like patience and a fondness for jokes about media consultants.

Skip it if: You’d rather catch Scotten at WIT.