Fat Chance

So, I went to usher at Fat Pig over at the Performing Arts Center on Sunday. I had to sit on my typing fingers for a day to get calm enough to “talk” about it. Not the actual play itself. I kind of enjoyed it, in a sick and twisted way. The play is mainly populated with people that who would be perfectly nice work acquaintances, of the go have a beer after work variety, but ones that you should under no circumstances allow into your life. Clever, hyper-verbal and foul mouthed, and broken in the ways that tend to break other people.

The main story is about when Tom meets Helen. He’s an up-tight yuppy type, more than happy to conform to social norms, and in fact, he probably takes pride in his ability to toe the line. He’s a salad eater, for god’s sake. He encounters Helen, and likes her. Even though she doesn’t conform to one social norm. She’s a big gal. But she’s made her peace with it. The crux of the play is whether Tom, who attempts to put a toe across that social line, will be able to grow a set and stand up to the angry villagers who’d like chase Helen with flaming, verbal pitchforks. It’s a Neil LaBute play. Spoiler enough, that.

The main reason I had to sit on my fingers was my over-the-top reaction to Tom. To say that I ended up wanting to kick him until he was dead might be a little bit extreme. Not untrue, but extreme. The other characters had their own issues, but were to some extent pitiable. Tom, on the other hand, was all too aware of his flaws. The fact is that he knows better, he wants better, but he doesn’t have the emotional wherewithal to do better. But he doesn’t even have the guts to just man up to that. If you’re good time Charlie, who dates size 2s, with the IQs and hearts to match, fine. Be that. But if you don’t have the heart to go all the way with someone worth committing to, don’t keep putting yourself out there. You’ll get to the end of your own river of denial. Then you’ll have to leave. You just end up hurting people. A lot. The love of a good woman won’t help you. There’s no woman good enough. If you want to be different, work on your own shit. And if you can’t be better, I’m sorry. But you need to live that little hell on your own.

So. Good show? Yeah. Did I like it? No. Definitely not. But I don't think that's the issue. A little moral outrage is good for the soul.