MIGHT AS WELL FACE IT,
WE’RE ADDICTED TO, WELL, EVERYTHING
In the tragicomedy The Motherfucker with the Hat, every character has something painful in their lives that they are self-medicating. Bronx couple Jackie and Veronica are alcohol and drug addicts, trying hard to get their lives together but continually slipping up. After being imprisoned for selling drugs, Jackie gets a new job and is excited to be back with Veronica but he returns to their apartment with the good news only to discover another man’s hat lying on a table.
Stephen Guirgis’ script is smart and laugh-out-loud funny. He draws on the crude, urban, offbeat dialect of Veronica and Jackie for comedy. They are never at a loss for words, because they simply finish a thought with an expletive: Jackie hands Veronica a gift with, “It’s a fuzzy bear that grips and shit.” After the two visit one of their favorite places, a pie store, where it is an unspoken rule that they must be honest, Jackie is in disbelief and fixates on the fact that Veronica has defiled their sacred spot by continuing to lie about her affair. With sweet naiveté, Jackie recalls the rule, “When it’s pie, don’t lie.”
Guirgis’ script walks the line between raw reality and agile humor, and Bill English, the artistic director at the San Francisco Playhouse, keeps the actors grounded in reality while incorporating precise comedic timing; you can’t help but laugh even in the tensest of scenes. The entire cast was adept at this balance, but Gabriel Marin as Jackie and Isabelle Ortega as Veronica are especially vulnerable as well. As Ralph, Carl Lumbly conveys a touching hopelessness when he tells Jackie life has no meaning for him; as a hypocritical role model for Jackie, he inspires a sense of security, then disgust, and then, finally, the deepest empathy in the spectator.
English makes ample use of SF Playhouse’s huge new digs with his detailed set which has the interior of Veronica’s shabby but colorful, low rent apartment connected to the interior of Ralph’s shiny appliance and stock art-filled, middle-class apartment, emphasizing their differences (although both characters have a dark side, Ralph hides his behind signs of success while Veronica has no desire to do so). Behind the interiors, stand the tops of other apartments, including the fire escape of Jackie’s sassy but benevolent cousin, Julio (Rudy Guerrero); perched high above and always willing to help Jackie, Julio seems to be his guardian angel.
The set facilitated quick scene changes, but during longer blackouts the same, upbeat, Latin inspired music would play with no regard for the tone of the scene before or after. While this sound design feels inappropriate, one of Veronica and Jackie’s favorite songs from the Commodores is played in a stirring way for the last scene, accompanying a lingering image with a flood of sound.
The Motherfucker with the Hat makes addiction a common denominator for all walks of life, but it also questions the tenets of goodness. Does being sweet like Jackie or diligent like Ralph make one decent? If everyone succumbs to some form of detrimental behavior, who is a role model? It’s rare when entertainment feels escapist, but is thought-provoking afterwards. SF Playhouse and Guirgis’ script offer insight into the deeper sorrow of too much indulgence while creating a production which is addictively funny.
photos by Jessica Palopoli
The Motherfucker with the Hat
San Francisco Playhouse
ends on March 16, 2013
for tickets, call 415-677-9596 or visit SF Playhouse
