The Fatman in the Hallway
In their debut production The Fatman in the Hallway, co-producers Meredith and Josh Baugher have affronted critics with carnival theatricality and riptide wit to create a production that will even have the rope-pullers in the wings talking.
With a charming homegrown lead character (William Pensworth), the brother-sister team walks the audience through a narrative of triumph and loss, of happiness and sorrow, of girlscout cookies, pizza, and pasta.
And through this gamut of experiences, our everyman hero — bloated with the uncontainable emotions — finds a way to navigate the narrow corridors of daily life. Inspiring is not the word. Fucking awesome is.
But let’s back up: the story tells of a wayward sap — a fatman, really — faced with innumerable choices. There is the choice of breakfast cereals and the choice of shirt colors. How should one celebrate ones birthday? Where should one shop for ripe watermelon? How is it that one can deepfry cheese without it melting into the oil?
But amidst the pelting rain of decision, William Pensworth is faced with the ultimate choice: how, in such a world of delectable foods, is one to love?
The quandary is tedious, and takes a slow walk through a long life before the story finds any resolution. In the third row, you will cringe but be unable to turn your head and look away — for the story is too charismatically tragic. And you will love to see William fail.
Gripped in the final minutes of the play, you will find William a loveless, old man doggedly chewing on some yam french fries — a pensive and lonely character.
And without announcement, an eighty-year-old William Pensworth will unveil an epiphany that will have you both laughing and crying (in sort of that snorty-chuckle that would embarrass you on a first date). It is a scene to remember, and surely one to relive.
Never before has such a young play writing duo captivated such a diverse audience. Never before have you hungered for a fair resolution in a storyline of rather unquaffable experiences.
And you’ll be happy that you are in the audience, and this robust gentleman is waddling through life’s mysteries without you. You will find comfort that Pensworth’s dilemmas are not yours, and you’ll feel satiated, full. But, somewhere in the final act, your stomach will suddenly turn with the realization that the milk of William Pensworth has long soured. And maybe sick to the stomach with empathy, you will vomit.
Fairfax Showtimes
Friday and Saturday: 8:00 pm
Sunday: 3:00 pm and 7:00 pm
3 years ago