The Ends of the Earth

Sometimes, we only recognize truth when it emerges out of absurdity. Playwrights have known this fact for years, and have made sense from nonsense in countless classic plays. Waiting For Godot, Six Characters in Search of an Author, and Rhinoceros all made poignant and powerful commentaries on the human condition by making an already insane world even more ridiculous– and somehow more real.

And now acclaimed Canadian playwright Morris Panych is trying his hand at the surreal with The Ends of the Earth,  which recently ended its brief run at the Varient Theatre Company last week. Filled with the usual quirky characters one finds in absurdist comedy, and with the usual twists and turns such comedies take, The Ends of the Earth contributes rather little new to the genre. But while it may not be very unique or original, it certainly has enough charm and humor to amuse, if not enlighten.

The plot, if a true absurdist comedy can ever really have one, follows two men who meet by chance and become convinced that each is being spied upon by the other. With nothing to lose and desperate for adventure, they wind up simultaneously making the same choices that take them on the same journey to the eponymous location. (Well, perhaps more happens in this than in many other absurdist plays. Unlike Estragon and Vladimir/>/>, these heroes do actually move. In fact, they rarely sit still.) Along the way, they meet the usual assortment of kooks lifted straight from 101 Cliched Stock Characters– the dotty hotel proprietress, the spooky blind lady, the kooky actress, the hard-boiled detective, et al. Some of them are funny. Some of them are memorable. And some of them simply... aren't.

But if the script isn't as strong as it could be, the performances across the board are quite charming, with Kelly Miller a particular standout as no less than eight individual characters. Mr. Miller makes every character unique, memorable, and delightfully funny, adding significantly to the comedy of the absurdism. Mary Aufman also scores several bullseyes as the supposed manager of the titular hotel, who, like Lucky in Godot, hides much wisdom in her bizarre speech patterns. As the leads, Leslie Loggans and David Jacks (who also serves as producer) have strong comic timing and good chemistry, but somehow fail to ignite the sparks one would hope for. It may well be the fault of the script: in trying to make his protagonists into everymen, Panych has made them less interesting than the supporting characters.

 

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