Thousand Oaks

From the start, Thousand Oaksappears to be a weird place. At least the one home there that’s the scene of Sylvia Reed’s play seems weird -- bars on the windows and something unidentifiable in a corner upstage and two black leather sofas on separate sides of the stage. Not surprisingly, no set designer is mentioned in the program. The lack typifies this premiere production.

Setting a constant, Ann begins on Ephiphany, upset and drinking, wanting to keep Christmas all the way because she’s always ordered her whole life traditionally. In a Gothic touch typical of Reed, Ann rails against husband Tom for putting in the freezer frozen mice (which he sells for food for pet snakes). These she unbagged expecting to find chicken to cook. From here on, there are flashbacks to Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve and forward to the Little Christmas at the start.

Along the way, Ann and Tom invite former neighbors Rob, unemployed, and Sarah, a teacher, for drinks and to play cards. They were able to move – like everyone but Ann and Tom – but they aren’t happy. Despite Rob and Sarah living with her parents, she’d like to adopt a Chinese baby.

The basic situation is that everyone wants to get away but is for some reason -- mostly financial due to foreclosures of most of the neighborhood -- trapped. Just in case that’s not clear, there’s a symbolic empty bird cage as a major piece of furniture.

In separate instances, Sarah gets cozy with Tom viewing her former house and Ann considers escaping to Las Vegas with Rob. What everyone will do is supposed to keep interest up through the holiday period, but the short-out of a Christmas tree is a metaphor for the play’s fizzling out.

Nikki Maack Schuster somehow gives a performance that’s winning, though her Ann is controlling and constantly self-pitying. Matt McCord gets sympathy for Tom, genuinely in tears at one point. I heard he had to step in the director’s role at the last minute, so it’s nice that the show isn’t completely choppy.

Katelyn Studer acquits herself well in the stereotypical role of Sarah. Chris Marco is believable as uncomplicated Rob. Like the canvas on an easel that Tom gives Ann as a Christmas present, Sylvia Reed’s play remains basically blank.