Superior Donuts
Superior Donuts
By Tracy Letts
Directed by Rob Anderson
Starring Michael Sapp and Sam Hazell
Mad Cow Theatre, Orlando, FL</em></strong>
Chicago is full of tough guys and tough names. Arthur Przybyszewski (Hazell) is only tough in name – he fled to Canada to avoid Viet Nam, thus disgracing his immigrant family and losing the love of his father. Jimmy Carter let him back into the USA, but then his wife left him. Now he’s alone with a sad stash of pot and a failing business in a decaying neighborhood. On good days he makes “deep fried dessert cakes” (donuts to the rest of us) and even sells a few. The shop has the charm of the DMV, and his Russian immigrant neighbor Max (Joe Wyatt) sticks up for him better than he does for himself. When he hires the young hustler Franco (Sapp) he’s deluged with obvious suggestions on how to grow his revenue and maximize his leverage – play some music, stay open later, try to keep donuts and coffee in stock at all times. Good advice, but not where his life is heading. He’s surrounded by opportunity but ignores it as hard as he can. Heck, even the cops are on his side, horny Officer Osteen (Marty Stonerock) is sweet on him and comes complete with her own hockey tickets. It takes Franco lying mangled in the hospital to get him off his hippy dippy butt and doing something positive with his life.
Not a bad story, but it’s the acting that makes “Superior Donuts” so much better than those Krispy Kreme’s everyone used to stand in line for. The funniest stuff goes to Wyatt’s Russian buddy Max – he spits venom and dead pan humor like an AK-47, trying to understand why America is so wonderful and so screwed up at the same. Sapp and Hazel have a resonant chemistry; they are a father and son, each seeking their counterpart. Sapp’s comedy reaches its peak as he learns the mystic art of frying dough, and Hazell’s fight to the death with bookie Luther (Steven Jones) shows he really cares about the boy. Jones’s creepiness fluctuates from mobster tough to desperate milk junkie, but his supposed Southside accent sounds a bit more like Winnetka to my Midwestern ears. The supporting roles were well cast with Joe Coffey as the psycho enforcer scaring the folks in the front row, and Marty Stonerock and Paris Crayton III as the police partners who hated each other. When Crayton appeared in a red Star Trek shirt, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t return for the curtain.
“Superior Donuts” careens down the Dan Ryan with nonstop humor and action. Cindy White’s set just needs the smell of stale peanut oil to complete the Chicago experience, and overhead train noises slide in and out as Arthur flashes back to explain his life of running away from problems. Steven Jones stages a nice fight scene with the winning blow delivered by an ulcer. Sapp’s humor nearly matches that of Wyatt, but let’s face it – how can you top lines like “he stuck his finger in the wrong asshole”? The Disney-grade platitudes about “believing in yourself” and “following your dreams” might survive in the suburbs, but down here under the El the world belongs to those who make their own luck.
For more information on Mad Cow, please visit http://www.madcowtheatre.com
