The Santaland Diaries
Zachary Scott Theatre Center Whisenhunt Arena Stage, through Jan. 7
Running time: 1 hr, 30 min
You will never think of elves the same way again. Demystification is the spirit of the season in The Santaland Diaries at the Zachary Scott Theatre Center. When you walk into the theatre, you are greeted by a sugar-coated set and the kind of carols that make your teeth hurt. Like joy on steroids, the atmosphere is brilliantly obnoxious, perfectly preparing you for what’s to come: a dissection of Christmas.
The Santaland Diaries is based on the writing of David Sedaris. Sedaris’ humor is brutal in its hilarity. No one escapes his scalpel. Side-splitting and stomach-turning, it is the kind of humor that inspires dissent and controversy. In these Diaries, Sedaris addresses his experiences working as a Christmas elf for Macy’s department store, guiding children and their parents through Santaland. Sometimes the parents are rotten. Sometimes the children are “severely retarded” and “horribly deformed.” During these segments you will most likely find yourself dying with laughter. But herein lies the brilliance of director Dave Steakley’s staging of this material: Santaland Diaries is performed in the round in the intimate Whisenhunt Arena Stage. Just as the humor allows no one to escape, the round does not allow an audience to hide. The few stony faces in the crowd of guffawers will be obvious to you and will remind you in turn of exactly what it is you are laughing at/with. The person who is cracking up at the “retarded” jokes will turn suddenly sour when Sedaris’ humor begins nipping at their homophobic heels. Any given person has his or her limit, and Sedaris pushes all of them.
After a two-year hiatus, Martin Burke returns to play Crumpet the elf. Burke manages to keep Sedaris’ humor on the bright side, steering clear of the caustic edge. His energy has no bounds. The show I saw was supposed to run 90 minutes, and it ran 105 because he was so adept at playing off the audience, bantering and teasing, making us feel special – much like kids at Santaland. Burke has performed this show countless times, yet he manages to make the effort sincere and new. His partners in crime are Meredith McCall, who can deliver a song like it’s her job (which luckily it is), and Jason Connor on the piano, whose dapper and high-brow attitude is the perfect foil to Burke’s wild elfin antics.
Steakley’s compilation of this material is as skillful as his staging. The show kicks off with McCall’s rendition of “Santa Baby.” If you are going to sing “Santa Baby” in the round, then you might as well do it in a dress with a stunningly sexy back. Derek Whitener coordinated the costumes and found just such an item. Burke’s long monologues are interlaced with McCall’s killer renditions of satirical songs that address such seasonal topics as masturbation (“Making Love Alone”) and Mrs. Claus’ plans for divorce (“Surabaya Santa”). Burke’s first monologue, “Dinah,” is just as rich and just as funny as “The Santaland Diaries,” relating the night that a prostitute named Dinah visited the Sedaris family.
Now back to the heart of the show. There’s a heart to the show? Oh, yes. A lovely heart. The kind one stumbles upon while wading through sick consumerism and false cheer. Burke’s energy and cynicism buoy the bulk of The Santaland Diaries, but they also set you up to be awed when Burke turns the tables, and turn the tables he does.
What a fun night. The kind of night that allows you to laugh at the ridiculousness of American Christmas customs and yet leaves you feeling a bit more merry. For despite the historical, political, or economic implications of this holiday, there are some beautiful stories worth telling each year. The Santaland Diaries reminds us that perhaps those stories are not found in the presents under the tree; rather, they might be found in the whore in your kitchen or the underemployed Santa at Santaland.
This article appears in December 8 • 2006.