"ONE MAN SEEN," Andy Eninger at WNEP Theater
BY LUCIA MAURO
Audience’s imaginations act as a pivotal character in solo improv-artist Andy Eninger’s spontaneously self-generated show, "One Man Seen," produced by FuzzyCo at WNEP Theater. No detail goes unchecked in this 60-minute one-act play, which Eninger creates on the spot based on an audience suggestion for a location. This engaging performer – who pioneered the quick-change, multiple-personality improv style called the "Sybil" – describes the setting for his "zoo" locale right down to the textures of the bars used for his abstract cages and their metaphoric intent, along with the artificial animal fur covering patrons’ seats.
Under Gary Ruderman’s influential but notably hands-off direction, Eninger is free to riff in uninhibited bliss on his zoological theme while maintaining meticulous control over the material. He creates a complex flashback structure in which he maneuvers across two time periods – and even travels to the afterlife.
Eninger plays all the characters and – between his quicksilver and, at times, moving dialogue – describes with obsessive exactitude the sets and costumes. Here’s what transpired over the course of Eninger’s very clever and witty zoo story, which also brought a tear to my eye.
Shortly after the second world war, two inseparable siblings -- Ed and Edwina -- converted a wildlife park into a zoo and veterinary clinic for mild-mannered animals (like cats, dogs, fish, cows, sheep and an irresistible turtle that roams freely about the grounds).
When Edwina falls for a charming sheepshearer, Ed reminds her that the zoo is her true calling. In an odd way, these entwined twins echo the creepy co-dependence of Norman Bates – except they don’t murder anyone in the shower. Edwina’s horrifying discovery of the sheepshearer’s womanizing ways, however, reinforces Ed’s warnings and convinces her to dedicate herself to the gentler beasts she tends. Meanwhile, Eninger creates a subplot involving a beleaguered little boy named Tommy, who wants to be a veterinarian but is sent off to a military school by his parents.
Jump ahead to 2002, and we meet Sylvester, a slightly dim-witted teenage volunteer at the now-dilapidated zoo about to be taken over by the state. He receives a phone call on the zoo’s pay phone from the deceased Ed (Edwina died a few years earlier) ordering him to find the now-grown Tommy – the only person Ed believes can save the animal haven to which he devoted his life.
Eninger is guided and inspired throughout by the expert lighting/sound design skills of technical director Heather Elam, who smoothly tosses the performer into the 1940s with a quiet Big Band music cue or places him in a more reflective state with the flick of a soft spotlight. All the while, Eninger inserts riotous descriptions of the characters into his spirited impromptu script – lingering on the sheepshearer’s bushy moustache, Sylvester’s baseball cap that’s curved in front or Tommy’s Indian headdress topped with a construction-paper feather.
The set also gets more elaborate – with a variety of gleaming surgical equipment dangling from an overhead shelf in the veterinary clinic; a poster featuring a cat with electrified fur that states "Bad Hair Day"; a rock wall that rises from the ground; and an overall scenic sense that "humankind is being pent up."
Some of the best exchanges happen between the dead Ed and flummoxed Sylvester. One in which Sylvester attempts to record Ed’s phone conversation, only to find that – like vampires who don’t appear in photographs – his voice does not register, is right out of a "Twilight Zone" episode. And Eninger is so skilled at the minimalist barb that, when Sylvester’s cell phone rings, all he has to say is, "Shit! How did he get my cell phone number?," to make a profoundly funny statement.
Eninger’s on-the-mark ability to end scenes with a gentle punch is evident throughout the show – especially one in which Edwina frantically reviews her marriage options while casually sewing up a cat, then looks down and frets, "Oh, no, don’t wake up."
By the end, I felt like I really got to know and feel for these impassioned characters. And any performer who can transform a turtle into a noble and loyal animal on the level of Old Yeller proves that comedy is more about revealing the humanity in a character or a situation than getting laughs.
FuzzyCo’s production of "One Man Seen" starring Andy Eninger runs Sundays at 8 p.m. through September 29 at WNEP Theater, 3209 N. Halsted. Tickets: $8. Call 773-296-1100.
