A Tuna Christmas (Oregon Rep Theatre)

[December 19th, 2007]

“For-profit theater.” Ugh. The phrase has an icky ring to it, bringing to mind painful hours of low-rent Broadway tours and featherweight cheesefests for the over-50 set.

But that needn’t be the case. The theater doesn’t necessarily have to be a charity case. After all, you don’t see rock bands or novelists setting up 501(c)(3)s. Some art can pay for itself.

At least, that’s the hope of Jeffrey Gilpin and Oregon Repertory Theatre, a brand-new company dedicated to filling in the 40 percent gap between production costs and ticket revenue (that keeps most companies in the red) while producing shows a person of taste might want to see.

ORT could scarcely have chosen a better show for its inaugural production than A Tuna Christmas , the yuletide sequel to community-theater favorite Greater Tuna . If you haven’t seen Tuna , it’s a red state-bashing laughfest about a tiny town filled with Texas caricatures, all played by two male actors with a full costume rack and a lot of split-second changes. The sequel combines the same humor with holiday timing that brings in viewers by the busload.

Gilpin loaded the production up with local theater luminaries, including costume designer Margaret Chapman (Ragtime ), sound designer Sam Kusnetz and director Philip Cuomo (La Carpa Calavera ). And it has paid off—mostly.

Cuomo’s done a fine job with a script that doesn’t, at first glance, have a lot to offer. You can see his hand in the production’s emphasis on the frenetic play’s few relatively quiet, thoughtful scenes—two lifelong friends planning their last prank, a pair of jilted lovers commiserating over coffee.

The real draw here, though, is Gilpin. A talented character actor, he goes all the way with his characters, from a raincoat-wearing used-weapons dealer to the beleaguered head (and entire body) of the local humane society. He steals the show, walking all over his perfectly capable co-star, Alan King. He’s a riot.

It all makes for an enjoyable hour. Unfortunately, that’s just intermission. As the show drags into its second hour, the cross-dressing shtick loses its charm and the small-town gags start to seem more mean-spirited than amusing, and the play just will not end. If King and Gilpin can pick up the pace (a lot) or ditch some scenes, the production as a whole would be much easier to sit through. Sore butts aside, Tuna is a promising debut for ORT.