Audience likes burglar’s butt and they cannot lie
James Kirkwood’s comedy, P.S. Your Cat is Dead, was published in 1973 but revived by directors Gerry Butts and Rob Free for a ten-performance run from May 27 to June 5, 2016 at the Guelph Little Theatre.
The play is set on New Year’s Eve, 1978 in the New York apartment of Jimmy Zoole, played by Michael Klein. Jimmy is an actor who has been fired twice, robbed repeatedly, and has just been left by his lady—who lets him know his cat is dead in her goodbye letter.
The set design and lighting design combined to evoke the 1970s not only through the realism of the costumes and props but also through the colour palette. The yellows, browns, and oranges infused the stage with the look of That ’70s Show meeting a faded sepia photograph.
The play began with a stilted performance by Jill Peterson (portraying the role of Kate) which seemed melodramatic and in opposition to the realism of the set. It was, however, quickly balanced by the comedic creeping of the gay burglar Vito, portrayed by Bart Penwarden. Penwarden made excellent use of the stage both horizontally and vertically, proving to be a silly prowler with impressive finesse. The audience also had a good long laugh when Vito, finally able to stand after being tied up for much of the second act, showed the audience his bare butt. The play’s greatest strength was the highly energetic and precise physical comedy performed by Klein and Penwarden.
While the dated set design contributed to the atmosphere of the play, some of the dialogue itself felt dated in its reliance on ethnic insensitivity to produce humour. Penwarden’s Italian accent, for example, was easy to overlook during moments of high physical comedy but during longer moments of dialogue when Vito is tied up, his accent was superfluous and inconsistent to the point that it distracted from the conversation.
Similarly, although the play includes a gay character and was written by a gay man, Vito is represented in a stereotypically hypersexual manner that is a little uncomfortable and a little boring. At times, there is some foreshadowing in the dialogue that Jimmy may also be gay but Klein’s portrayal of the character decidedly worked against this reading of the subtext, which resulted in building a tension that was not satisfyingly resolved. The conclusion’s focus on the unexpected friendship between Vito and Jimmy somewhat makes up for this disappointment.
In all other regards, Klein was a pleasure to watch. The ease with which he delivered his lines made even the most absurd moments of dialogue sound natural. Klein was able to get laughs consistently throughout the play whether it was due to his facial expressions when he got high, his embodiment of manic glee as he hurled fruit at Kate through his window, or his polite offer of pretzels to Ken Cameron’s character, Fred, by placing them innocently on Vito’s bare butt. It may have been Jimmy Zoole’s worst day ever, but Klein’s performance gave the audience some of the best moments of the evening.