Close Quarters at Phantom Lamp Theatre Company
Close Quarters, the inaugural production of Phantom Lamp Theatre Company — an adventurous newcomer to Asheville’s theatre scene — is a genre-defying mash-up of farce, satire, and improv comedy with startling detours into existential angst.
The show was developed by its cast and Asheville playwright Abby Auman in an extended workshop process, and the company keeps the production true to its improvisational roots with performance-by-performance invention. Each night, the audience helps choose the ending from three options, and the final performance of the run on Sunday, March 1, will include all the endings.
Close Quarters is set in a small studio apartment. And the performance itself takes place in an actual studio apartment, in this case The Residency at 821, part of West Asheville arts nonprofit Lamplight AVL’s space on Haywood Road. The 30-member audience sits on the sidelines on sofas, stools, and chairs, or they recline on floor cushions while the actors weave in and out. It’s close quarters indeed.
But the audience is far from sidelined. You’re invited to participate in what Phantom Lamp calls “shenanigans.” You may be asked to contribute to the storyline or you could find an actor perching in your lap. For the fainthearted, you can request a “no-touch” seat.
The interactivity is part of the new-ish style called “immersive theater.” It was popularized in 2003 by the London company Punchdrunk in a landmark riff on Macbeth called Sleep No More, set in an abandoned hotel. Phantom Lamp promises that all its productions will be as site-specific as Close Quarters, and all will be original works.
The existential angst of Close Quarters is baked into its premise. Young couple Parker (Morgan Miller) and Sam (Cagney Larkin) move into a tiny apartment haunted by a ghost called Roomie (Stevie Ramirez), who’s resisting the efforts of a ferryman named Aspen (Bethany Prescott) to take her to the other side.
As played by Prescott, Aspen is a perky mistress of ceremonies in a green Girl Guide uniform with a squirrel tail peeking out from under her comically short skirt. She welcomes us and lets us know that we too are ghosts in this machine. Under the cheery wholesomeness, there’s a whiff of smarm. She’s a female Pee-wee Herman, keeping the kiddies in line.
Roomie is an angry, foul-mouthed figure in a cloak and hood. The problem with the living, she says, is “nobody stares at the wall and contemplates death anymore!” We’re all too busy looking at our screens. Ramirez plays Grim Reaper with great panache.
Meanwhile, Parker and Sam have their own problems. Parker is a successful romance novelist, yearning for literary respectability. She wants to transition to true crime and likes the idea that a mass murder may have happened in this apartment. Sam, the mortician son of mortician parents, is pragmatic about death and surprisingly open to ghosts. But he has mommy-and-daddy issues.
Parker and Sam are the characters most rooted in reality, and Miller and Larkin portray them with warmth and authenticity. They tie up a second act seance that has spun out of control by pivoting to an affirmation of family values. The ending feels a little too neat and sentimental, but the actors bring it off believably.
The satire of Close Quarters skewers cultural crazies from left to right. There’s Rev. Ricky (played with Bible-thumping zest by Delina Hensley), a megachurch pastor more concerned with his bottom line than the souls of his flock. In one of the show’s most hilarious moments, Ricky proposes to Parker that she redirect her literary talents. “Romantic literature is a billion-dollar industry,” he says. “Now why shouldn’t a cut of that abundance go towards the salvation of mankind? Let this sit on your heart for a moment: Smut for Christ.”
Two women who intrude on Parker and Sam add to the zaniness. Elizabeth DeVault plays a slinky, black-clad Hot Goth performing nihilism as a fashion statement, and Jamie Knox is Shri Barbara, a New Age guru peddling boutique spirituality. (If you don’t get the “Shri” joke, Google the name.) Both DeVault and Knox nail bravura monologues.
Rounding out the cast, Nora Tramm portrays a frumpy, bathrobe-wearing Upstairs Neighbor who has had five husbands. As she explains, “One fell into the Grand Canyon, one tragic death at sea, two heart attacks in bed, and one plate of bad shrimp. None of them are my fault, except arguably the two heart attacks in bed.” With her suggestive hand gestures, Tramm quickly becomes an audience favorite.
Despite some lags in the improvs and a few lapses into mugging, the ensemble kept Close Quarters moving at furious tilt for two hours. The laughs started early and kept going nonstop.
And the crowd at the Feb. 20 opening night performance felt like a West Asheville Friday night block party — casual, chatty, ready to buy a beer or a mineral water, and definitely up for amusement with a message. Phantom Lamp appears to have found its tribe.
Close Quarters runs through March 1 at The Residency at 821. For tickets and more information, visit phantomlamptheatrecompany.com/upcoming.
(Photo by Cheyenne Dancy)
