Playwright: Homer Marrs
At: WNEP Theatre, 3209 N. Halsted
Phone: (773) 755-1693; $12
Runs through: Aug. 15 (Fridays only)
As a rule, the Windy City Times does not review late-night productions or sketch comedy shows. There are just too darn many of
them. We make occasional exceptions for shows that might be of special interest to GLBT readers, such as Fratricide, a late-night
revue written by GayCo Productions artistic associate Homer Marrs. But this show is an exception that proves the rule; a mildly
amusing, superficially gay, collegiate effort. It’s literally collegiate in that most of its scenes revolve around fraternity brothers and a frat
house, and figuratively collegiate in the quality of the writing and playing.
While not original, the idea of a fraternity on campus with gay brothers—or even an all-gay brotherhood—still holds multiple
possibilities to turn the tables on both gay and hetero stereotypes. However, Fratricide ignores deeper possibilities in favor of slighter,
safer thinking and a firm grounding in video games and pop music that clearly appeals to the under-30, mostly hetero crowd that filled
the little theater. For every interesting premise—a gay pick-up at a hard rock concert—there is a cliché, such as gay florists. The most
interesting gay gambits are the Fuck Buddy Song (sharp writing, well performed, worthy of Naked Boys Singing), and the show’s final
scene in which a gay frat brother goes back in the closet because he’s tired of being the token fag. Unfortunately, there’s been no
previous build-up to this premise, and the sketch climaxes with a song although the lead actor can’t sing.
Fratricide is best when it’s neither gay nor collegiate: Sylvia Plath in a WWF-style poetry slam against arch enemy Anne Sexton;
two frat brothers showing each other photos of their ‘adorable’ parents as if their folks were babies; parodies of infomercials for
prescription drugs (‘See if alcohol is right for you.’), self-help gurus (‘You can be dead on the inside.’) and oldies compilations (The
Best of Air Guitar). Most of these, however, need fuller, longer development—for example, we never see Sexton in the poetry slam
scenes—and virtually every sketch needs a stronger finish, a good button. Marrs’ writing is intelligent but not full-fledged.
The six men in the cast, Marrs among them, do not identify themselves, so one doesn’t know who is whom. The tallest actor and
the small, thin one are the quickest and most focused, while the short, dark-haired guy with big sideburns performs in an alternate
universe of limited energy and sloppy lines. Director Fuzzy Gerdes needs to crack the whip in brush-up rehearsals.
The sometimes-stifling WNEP Theatre is right on The Strip in Boystown. Since Fratricide runs just one hour, you’ll be on your way
to the bars before Midnight. Talk about superficial!