The Butcher of Baraboo

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Photo Source: Chris Goss
Marisa Wegrzyn's amusing black comedy is a kitchen-sink play in which the sink seems constantly on the verge of being drenched with blood. This Gothic yarn of family dysfunction in overdrive plays out as a sort of Americanized variation on Martin McDonagh's "The Beauty Queen of Leenane," crossed with a Coen brothers sensibility. Set in the snow-drenched Wisconsin suburb of the title, Wegrzyn's sardonically funny script is driven by engagingly idiosyncratic characters and caustic dialogue that trips off their tongues like poisoned darts. A spirited cast, under the astute direction of Mark St. Amant, keeps the loopy goings-on entertaining.

Middle-aged butcher Valerie (Janet Chamberlain), who ominously swings her meat cleaver like a wannabe Sweeney Todd, appears perplexed if suspiciously stoic about the disappearance of her husband a year earlier. She shares her domicile with her daughter Midge (Nina Sallinen), a sullen 32-year-old pharmacist who peddles pharmaceuticals to local children. Valerie hides Midge's illegal activities from Midge's aunt, Gail (Rebecca Jordan), a local police officer who suspects Valerie might have killed the absentee husband, Gail's brother. New residents in the neighborhood are the missing husband's amiable brother, Donal (Carl J. Johnson), who apparently had a romantic history with Valerie, and his Mormon wife (Jenny Kern), who harbors a secret.

Wegrzyn is only partially successful at eliciting notes of poignancy beneath the rampant gallows humor. As pent-up resentments—as well as full-blown resentments—dominate the family interactions, the hint of murderous mayhem is always in the air, but the playwright tantalizes us by keeping genuine violence—and plot resolutions—at bay until the final moments. At times, the dense accumulation of plot threads and expository details feels circuitous, and the ultimate payoff comes across as rushed and not fully satisfying.

Yet the actors offer sterling portrayals, particularly Sallinen's deadpan take on the suppressed lesbian and Chamberlain's caustically funny murder suspect. Designs are likewise top-notch, with nods due for Jeff McLaughlin's marvelously detailed scenic design, Christie Wright's lighting, May Jane Miller's costumes, Dave Marling's sound, and Scooter Pietsch's moody original music.

Presented by and at the Road Theatre, Lankershim Arts Center, 5108 Lankershim Blvd., North Hollywood. Oct. 8-Dec. 11. Thu.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. (818) 761-8829. www.roadtheatre.org.