The Santaland Diaries
Zach Theatre Whisenhunt Arena Stage, through Jan. 11
Running time: 2 hr, 5 min
Sarcasm and depression are unavoidable bedfellows to joy and cheer during this strange time of the year. What is it about Christmas that brings out the psychotic in us? People spending money they don’t have on gifts no one needs. People trampling a man to death at a Wal-Mart, giving new meaning to Black Friday. Parents forcing terrified children to sit on the lap of a strangely dressed stranger just to get a damn picture for the Christmas card. It’s this last practice that’s the focus of The Santaland Diaries, David Sedaris’ career-making account of his time as a Macy’s Santaland elf in New York City.
This year, Zach Theatre’s annual production of The Santaland Diaries features Espie Randolph as the Macy’s Little Elf (aka “Crumpet”). Meredith McCall reprises her role as songstress and performs her own holiday monologue, “The First Thanksgiving,” written by Sarah Vowell. A new and enjoyable piece of the puzzle is “Six to Eight Black Men,” a Sedaris piece that focuses on the bizarre customs that accompany Christmas in Holland – suffice it to say that six to eight black men arrive with the former bishop of Turkey, now St. Nicholas, and if you have been bad, they pretend to beat and kick you. These monologues and a handful of songs are the warm-up act to the real meat of the show, The Santaland Diaries.
Overall the production is enjoyable but feels a bit forced. Perhaps sarcasm isn’t that funny when people are getting layoffs for Christmas. The holidays are providing their own irony this year. Sedaris’ writing is hilarious, but it is also unflinchingly blunt – deformed children and racism are its fodder. McCall and Randolph play as if to a larger crowd in a bigger space, at times missing the intimacy needed to bring the audience into this storyteller’s tale. But here’s what does work: McCall hands in classy renditions of songs about masturbation and pill-popping and provides a series of enjoyable minor characters to flesh out Crumpet’s journey. And Randolph shines when he is improvising or interacting with the audience. He has taken ownership of the material, making it his own rather than an imitation of Sedaris. In line with his regular gig at Esther’s Follies, Randolph makes the timely material his favorite gift to deliver – cracking on Sarah Palin or dancing like Usher or, best of all, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it nod to Michelle Obama and her two daughters. This show has many undeniably funny moments, such as watching a grown man dress down to his skivvies in order to dress up as an elf or listening to Crumpet relate stories about crowd control in Santaland. The Santaland Diaries makes one glad that someone of Sedaris’ temperament was able to experience and relate such ridiculousness.
And, of course, it is a holiday show. After exposing the dark underbelly of Santaland’s vomit corner, the tale turns its frown upside down. We meet a mysterious Santa, never seen in Santaland until the day before Christmas. And this particular Santa understands what really matters. He doesn’t ask the children what they want for Christmas. Instead, he tells the children they are beautiful and asks the parents to love their children well. It is touching. But did this really happen? Or did Sedaris just feel the need to tack a positive twist on to his otherwise vicious romp? True or not, the silver lining is appreciated. In the current climate, laughter is a necessity, and plenty can be found in The Santaland Diaries.
This article appears in December 26 • 2008.