Underground Railway Theater’s WHEN JANUARY FEELS LIKE SUMMER
(Running through Nov. 13th) starts out like gangbusters. I couldn’t
help but think of the two teenagers in the movie CRASH, so sure of themselves, so
delighted with the possibilities the world offers them that questionable
behavior just seems like a lark to them. (It’s not their fault: Teenaged brains
aren’t fully developed so they can’t see very far ahead of their actions.)
Seth Hill and Marc Pierre are the best things in JANUARY.
Were it not for their antics, Cori Thomas’ play would have nowhere to engage the
“global” problem, which is what Hill’s hilarious character calls global
warming. The two are typical teenage boys, chasing skirts and sharing dubious
information about what females like—and
what type of female is worth liking. Both Hill and Pierre are gifted physical
comedians, with Hill contorting his face as he tries so diligently “to
comprehend the magnitude of the situation.” They’re always slightly
misinformed, but so sincere, that they’re utterly charming. Director Benny Sato
Ambush mines oodles of humor from their scenes. In fact, once they exit, we
can’t wait for them to return.
JANUARY is billed as a romantic comedy but the weight of the
subject matter, in my opinion, keeps it too tightly grounded for out and out
comedy. Two operations figure in the story. One has left a husband on life support
and the other hasn’t happened as yet. The anticipation of the latter procedure
fuels one of the two romances. The other is sweeter and simpler: A customer of
an Indian grocery has fallen for the proprietress (a gentle soul who can’t face
turning off the aforementioned life support). David J. Curtis and Sanaa Kazi
perfectly capture the elation/embarrassment quotient in a budding relationship
where each shares their hopes and pasts.
The problem I have is with the seriousness of the second
romance. Mesma Belsare’s character implores Ganesha, the highest Hindu deity
(who famously removes obstacles) for help with a rather significant deception.
Belsare’s Indira is twenty-seven and savvy in the ways of the world. As savvy
as Hill’s teenager is, he’s still a teenager and mighty gullible, falling hook,
line and sinker for the deceit. The play ends with the two couples headed for
their various bedrooms but I kept thinking of THE CRYING GAME.
