Cold Porridge, Written by Emily Dinova, Directed by Gregory Cioffi
Did you know, there’s a place called Crescent Rock Manor, on an island in the Pacific Northwest. Formally a mental institution for the criminally insane, it is now the grandiose estate of a wealthy family, who, right now, have just happened to gather there for an engagement party? A party that is, until the father of the soon-to-be-bride is found dead with a knife in his back. With a storm raging, the guests of the Manor find themselves trapped with a possible murderer, unexplainable paranormal activity, and old feuds that refuse to die. Despite all of this, one burning question keeps them all on their toes is. . . what’s for dinner?
Wouldn’t you like to know? Well, you can find out, because the answer is within a play that someone I recently met is putting on, and the details behind our meeting are almost as interesting as his current production called Cold Porridge. Well, maybe half as interesting…
What a year 2017 has been, right? It’s like everywhere we turned these past twelve months, bad news has been plastered all over our screens. It wasn’t light fare either - it was all really heady stuff! From deciding which statues should stay and which should go, to still not knowing why a lunatic shot his machine gun out of a hotel window in Las Vegas – it’s all been inescapably gloomy and thought-provoking. There’s just no way to stay connected any longer and give your brain a rest at the same time. An unintended consequence of this, I think, is that all of us are waiting for the other shoe to drop, dreading the inevitable tragedy and unconsciously clenching every time we hear that news update chime emanate from our cell phones. It’s no wonder that people seem so much more on edge lately, have such short fuses. So, to help combat this, we have to find a release valve, some way to clear the steam pressure built up inside before you inevitably crush the spirit of some poor barista who mistakenly gave you a full-caf no-whip soy latte, instead of half-caf. Inexcusable.
Recently, I had an opportunity to take an acting class, and thus found a release valve for my own stress of living with my wretched illness, as well as the constant barrage of bad news. It’s strange, though. It’s as if I jumped into the middle of a love affair I didn’t realize I’d been having for half my life. Now, I know what you’re thinking – “but Dan, you’re the voice of a disabled generation and a consummate artist to boot, why do you need a release valve?” And, yes, while that’s all true, the truth of the matter is that everyone needs a break from something they have to do, whether they love it or not. Whether your office is where The Devil wears Prada or a place where the snosberries taste like snosberries – work is still work. A release valve is something you do for absolutely no one other than yourself.
It’s not as if I’m a stranger to acting, in high school and college I held just about every position in the theater one could reasonably attempt – playing in the orchestra, building sets, managing costumes, stage manager, lighting, sound, and I even walked onto the stage a few times to beef up the ensemble. I never took a serious look at being an actor, though, mainly because it seemed like a lot of work, and other people were already doing it better than I thought I could. (I wasn’t the fearless paragon of self-esteem and confidence you all know me as today – that came later.) So, I never got further then shouting a quick “hey!” in the back of a crowd of workers in the Pajama Game, on stage for seven-and-a-half minutes total. It’s not a Hell of a lot.
So, back to the class I joined at the local college. I had no idea what to expect on that first night, but I sort of figured if I could write well, then I could probably act decently, too. I was excited, nervous, and based on the blurb about the teacher I was expecting an aged female thespian who pronounced theater “thee-a-tor,” and had a healthy collection of chiffon scarves. When I got there, though, instead, there was a man at the front of the class who looked like an extra in a Bronx Tale, zipped down pullover and all. I was sure we were in store for a healthy dose of classic “New Yawk,” from this replacement, but shame on me for assuming. As soon as he started class, I realized forthwith that whoever this person was he wasn’t what I was expecting. He was learned, he was friendly and excited to be there, and above all, he told us that we were in a judgment free zone. He taught us games and exercises that he had learned himself while pursuing a degree himself, and the two-hour class virtually flew by. I began to realize that this person who was dressed like a Guido going to church was actually a gifted teacher in disguise – and, as I came to find out was also the starring as the lead in the production of Tony & Tina’s wedding and was half of a production company along with his girlfriend. What can I say, I thought it was impressive, maybe because I now realize how much goes into perfecting a role, and wrangling actors into doing their thing in conjunction with other actors.
As I often do, I did my best to make friends, which isn’t easy at my age. Most people think I’m some lunatic who wants to tell them about the benefits of owning a timeshare. Amazingly, that didn’t happen this time, and I got to know my teacher and we, dare I say, became friends. He told me all about his life as a teacher and then his pivot to acting, and filled me in on the story behind the production company he and his girlfriend started, G&E Productions – something that came about mainly because he wanted to make sure he always had an avenue to do his art. Something I think all of us secretly wish for. Fast forward a few months, and I got to sit in on a rehearsal for his current play Cold Porridge, the one I told you about above. Knowing I couldn’t pass up a chance to see how the sausage was made, I went, and it was an extremely enjoyable (and hilarious) experience. The players are an immensely talented group of performers, and the material, written by my teacher’s better half (he’s the “G” and she’s the “E” in G&E productions), is on par with any of the madcap Neil Simon plays out there. I know because I was desperately trying not to make noise in the small rehearsal room as I was stifling my laughter, but I’m a sucker for a good comedy, and you’d never know it was his company’s first attempt at humor on stage. The other plays and movies they have done are of more consequential nature, but are no less well done.
So, back to the story. A family full of greedy, eccentric people, trapped in an old estate on a private island, trying to figure out who thoughtlessly left their knife in the host’s back. The mother is pragmatic, the grandmother is senile, and the ex-fiancé is… French! Yikes! It’s a match made in, umm, well the Pacific Northwest. Whatever, I could never explain it as well as they actors themselves, which is why you should check it out. It can serve as a way for you to eliminate your stress, your own release valve, at least for a few hours. If nothing else, you’ll maybe get to experience a little of what I was privileged to share when I happened on my teacher’s class simply by chance, oh, and, you’ll get to find out what’s for dinner!
The G&E Productions website is here, and you can buy tickets to Cold Porridge here. The show dates are January 4, 5, and 7.
For more from Daniel P. Malito check out his website, or Facebook and Twitter.