That's It Folks!

By SCOTT WHITED
THE PUEBLO CHIEFTAIN

What would you do if the end was nigh? If the end was more than nigh. If the end was here. Right. Now!

The menagerie of characters in The Impossible Players' production of Mark O'Donnell's "That's It, Folks!" approaches the end from a variety of idiosyncratic angles. Billed as "a comedy of apocalyptic proportions," the show opened last night to a half-full house that was treated to an energetic cast of oddballs bouncing about in the service of a grab-bag script full of disjointed end-of-days riffs and rim-shots. There were plenty of opportunities to smile and laugh, but one was never quite certain why.

Ever-smiling Eden (Geneva Mattoon) lives with Satan acolyte Otis (Geoffrey Simmons) in a comfortable apartment, where she aspires to communicate with aliens and he speaks in rhymed verse in the hopes of being chosen "left-hand man" of the Prince of Darkness. Their roommate, Penny (Jamie Fiedeldey), longs for a man to settle down with, and finds two quirky prospects in Zed Snowman (Tom Massmann) and Darryl (Eli Cranson). All this goes on while the newspaper and radio announce the immediately pending "end."

The play takes the form of a standard character comedy, but this ain't your father's sitcom. It features locusts, a ghost who doesn't know he's dead (Bill Boyett), meteors (nicely depicted by flashing light effects), a gaggle of Satanists clad in purple and black, and a female Voice of God (Edna Simmons) who assigns people to heaven or hell alphabetically (A-M = heaven; N-Z = hell: "Ladies use your maiden names"). Things move swiftly forward, aided by the flowing blocking of director Marvin Hays, but the story is such a hodgepodge of anarchic actions that it is hard to be invested in it as anything more than a bemused voyeur.

The troupe brings a compelling aura to the stage. The performances are weird, whacky, enthusiastic, and sincere. Massmann leads the way with his portrayal of Zed, whose only goal is to be featured on the last magazine cover ever published. His eccentric accent enlivens a character who is part apocalyptic Jon Lovitz-liar, part post-modern Ed Norton. Mattoon is the ingenuest of ingenues. Her Klieg-light smile illuminates a trusting soul who loves her man unconditionally: "He's so committed - if only it weren't to Satan." Fiedeldey bemoans her loveless fate, sobbing disconsolately despite being able to flaunt an aquamarine-and-print mini-dress and knee-high go-go boots. She is nothing if not over the top, even while being dragged across the floor by an uncooperative love-prospect.

Simmons is an inspired Satanist. His French-cavalier twirled mustache and pointy chin-beard are perfectly complemented by his vacuum-sealed sleeping pod and the twisted dagger with which he repeatedly tries to sacrifice the nearest available virgin - his beloved Eden.

Zed wraps up the shenanigans with a bit of poignancy. When told that it's end-time, "ready or not," he cries out plaintively: "Not!" Ah, well. Sacred music pours forth from the speakers despite his plea. But not to worry; it is quickly followed by a ukulele version of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow."

"That's It, Folks!" continues at 8 p.m. tonight, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Oct. 18. Call 542-6969 for reservations.