‘Adult Evening’ retains charms of childhood

CSC Theatre’s spring production of “An Adult Evening with Shel Silverstein” delivers a typhoon of hilarity carried on the backs of agile performances from the entire cast.

The production’s spartan set puts the acting at the fore and Hannah Norgard’s costume designs have a whimsical-yet-everyday quality.

The show lives up to all the implications of its title.

One immediately conjures up fond childhood memories of Shel Silverstein’s “A Light in the Attic” and “Where the Sidewalk Ends.” But worry not intrepid theatergoers—your idea of Silverstein will stretch comfortably to include “Adult Evening’s” racily funny, offbeat sketches.

“An Adult Evening” reminds me of the titular poem from the posthumous volume of Silverstein’s children’s work: “Every Thing On It.” The poem laments “I asked for a hot dog  / With everything on it, / And that was a big mistake.”

Indeed “Evening” does have a bit of everything in it—from the mundane terror of its opening vignette “One Tennis Shoe” to the surreality of the four-part “Thinking Up a New Name for the Act,” in the second half—but unlike the poem, including a bit of everything is no mistake here.

The show is comprised of thirteen vignettes, covering the sort of tropes that underpin some of Silverstein’s works for children. But here they are fully fleshed out by the heavier idiosyncrasies, consequences, and peccadilloes of adulthood.

“An Adult Evening” starts off slow, with Harvey, played by Jonathon Prante, and Sylvia, played by Ashley Rushman arguing about whether Sylvia is becoming a bag lady. At one point Sylvia, still unconvinced, exclaims, “Turning into a bag lady is like turning into a werewolf!”

Rushman artfully treads on the line between being batty and a victim of circumstance. It starts to seem like maybe she isn’t really turning into a bag lady, but then out comes the oatmeal—a whole bowl of it, cooked and ready to eat—from inside of her purse.

The show’s second bit, “Bus Stop” revels in turning a senseless act of chauvinism on its head. Irwin, played by Evan Torkelsen, appears brandishing a slightly misspelled “Bus Stop” sign. He accosts Celia, played by Lindsey Ferguson, tells her “The bust stops here,” and begins a rapid barrage of euphemisms for how much he likes her breasts.

After more than 50 body-part nicknames fly, Celia turns the tables on him. Ferguson is brilliant as she returns a voluble volley of derisive penis words— turning Irwin from creep to coward as he slinks from the scene.

In the darkly funny “Going Once,” an Auctioneer, played by Willis Miller, attempts to sell-off Annie, played by Erin Daniel. This bit echoes Silverstein’s “Sister for Sale,” from “Sidewalk,”  but with none of the cute plaintive brother.

The auctioneer tells us Annie is being sold off at her own volition, but she’s willing to do anything for her buyer.

Miller played the auctioneer so compellingly, at times it was difficult not to respond to the catcalls he directed at the audience.

A large part of the second half—its meat and potatoes as it were—is consumed by four linked skits. Their title, “Thinking Up a New Name for the Act,” is 400 percent more verbose than the entire four-part sequence.

All the players involved, led briefly by Miller, as Pete, and for the duration by Hannah Clark, as Lucy, speak only two words over and over. The rest is left to the actors’ inflection and body language. I won’t spoil its awesomeness any more than to say: it is really, really funny.

The entire cast gave a top-notch performance that left me gleefully clutching my sides.

In the first segment of the second half, George, played by Laven Adair, tells Marianne, played by Emily Ripa, “Don’t expect too much of out of life, you’ll be sorely disappointed.”

But CSC theatergoers would do well to expect much from the Theatre Program’s production of “An Adult Evening with Shel Silverstein,” you won’t be disappointed.