Vigil

If Next Act Theatre administrators were looking for a comedy to fill this dead-of-winter time slot, one wonders what made them choose Morris Panych’s play, Vigil. There is a glimmer of humor here, but the comedy is about the blackest this critic has seen.

Two exceptionally talented actors, Ruth Schudson and Mark Ulrich, do about the best job one could wish in delivering this odd play. Ulrich is an unhappy bank teller who rushes to the deathbed of his elderly aunt. They haven’t seen each other in 30 years. It is not a happy reunion.

As the play opens, Ulrich is pacing about in the aunt’s rundown bedroom. He is flailing his arms and making all sorts of disgruntled noises, as the aunt looks on in speechless amazement. One surmises that she is probably cursing herself for beckoning this ungrateful nephew. Like a vulture circling its dinner, Ulrich makes it clear that he is there for one reason only – to cash in on his inheritance once she dies.

For nearly the entire play, Ulrich must carry all of the dialogue alone. This situation gets old very quickly. He soon runs out of suitable gestures and movements to convey his irritation at his aunt’s lingering health. He taunts her with cruel remarks. For instance, there’s her affinity for butterscotch pudding. He tells her, “You’d better go easy on that, or you might not fit into the box (i.e., coffin).” This is funny?

The waiting game continues. Fall turns into winter, then spring. A year passes, and the two have settled into a familiar routine. As the seasons change, he continues to blame his aunt for his life’s woes. Schudson merely watches from her bed in the center of the room.

There are no visitors to see the aunt, no mail, not even a phone call (in fact, there’s no phone in the bedroom). The playwright is making his point about the loneliness of the aging process. Ulrich may not be the best company, but it’s all she’s got.

Things get murkier as the play continues. Ulrich still “encourages” his aunt to “get it over with,” but now he is bringing her meals in bed and playing cards with her. In one forgettable scene, he rigs up a Rube Goldbergesque machine. He explains that it allows his aunt to choose her method for dying. Of course, Ulrich ends up getting the worst end of this unfunny business. By this point, the audience might secretly be glad to see him get zapped by the hokey machine.

There is a clever twist near the end of the play, but it fail to redeem what has gone on before. It explains the aunt’s silence, as well as a number of other odd circumstances (which shall not be discussed here).