Hermetically Sealed

"I never liked a quiet house," says Kathryn Graf's manically multitasking Tessie, a stay-at-home single mother of two sons with a dramatic gift for baked goods and a family who has a tendency to embrace all sorts of high-volume drama. From the opening moments of Graf's loaded drama, despite the comforting ruse of early morning coffee and baking in the kitchen, it's loud and clear that the love of theatricality has not left this family in a particularly healthy place. As the day progresses—and a progression of desserts come out of the oven—we see the heavy cost of staying put.

Under the confident hand of director Joel Polis, Gigi Bermingham's Tessie is at once fragile and a force to be reckoned with. The mother-son dynamics here are fabulous, whether Tessie's scolding her eldest son Jimmy (Wolfie Trausch) or catering to her smart-ass youngest, Conor (a dynamic Nicholas Podany), while he's shouting at his online video game opponent. We also get a real treat watching the goings-on in the kitchen, as Tessie prepares her cakes and tarts for the local party planner, Dale Jr. (Julia Prud'homme). Polis' detailed, smart staging works wonderfully on Jeff McLaughlin's picture-perfect setting, and Bermingham is masterful—slicing and dicing and mixing and folding and finding solace in the familiar recipes. (McLaughlin is also responsible for the effective lighting, and Christopher Moscatiello's sound design adds another strong element to the beautiful production.) The arrival of Dale Jr. with her husband, Dale Sr. (Brendan Patrick Connor)—that's the kind of wacky couple they are—to pick up the order and give unwelcome advice provides a nice relief from the play's somewhat claustrophobic construction. Prud'homme is a ballsy hoot as the self-proclaimed voice of female culture, and Connor fits the bill as her whipped partner.

Though this play is filled with clever conceits, strong performances, and bits of lovely writing, it feels overfilled. Perhaps it's a case of too many details, but it doesn't take long for us to be overwhelmed by the unwieldy histrionics in the play. In the end, we're longing for something fresh from the kitchen that we, unfortunately, don't get.

Presented by Katselas Theatre Company at the Skylight Theatre, 1816 N. Vermont Ave., L.A. Oct. 22-Nov. 20. Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7 p.m. (702) 582-8587. www.ktctickets.com.