Unwelcome Disaster
A Review of The Ding Dongs at the Kitchen Theatre
D. E. BENTLEY
When I drive past the house where I lived as a child, memories creep from the crevices of my mind. I’ve looked at the cocoon that sheltered me—walls echoing with sacred secrets—and considered knocking on the door, stepping across the welcome mat into my past (someone else’s present). I never do…knock at the door. It is their space now, their time.
But what if I did ring the bell.
This is the premise for Brenda Wither’s play, The Ding Dongs—currently playing at the Kitchen Theatre in Ithaca, NY, under the direction of Rebecca Bradshaw. The play begins with an entryway encounter, initiated by the ring of a doorbell. From that first ring, The Ding Dongs oscillates between confusion and emotional crisis at a breakneck (real time) pace—75 minutes of choreographed chaos. The home’s current occupant—Redelmo, played by Nael Nacer—has no way of predicting that his indecisiveness, which allows a couple—Joe, played by Karl Gregory and Natalie, played by Erica Steinhagen—to step inside, is setting the stage for disaster.
I love theatre that increases my mental elasticity and The Ding Dongs did not disappoint. Having not read this play, I was able to expand and contract freely as the scenes unfolded. The entire play takes place in a single room of a house that Joe claims he once lived in, with his parents. He just wants to come in and look around, or so the current homeowner (and the audience) is led to believe. Although Redelmo is, wisely, hesitant to let the couple in, he does let them in, with a consequence that he should have seen coming: the couple refuses to leave. As often happens when emotional exchanges escalate, it becomes more difficult to determine who is “normal.” Redelmo certainly presents as less zany when the play begins; and the couple definitely are a bit eccentric if not downright menacing. Yet, as Redelmo’s fear escalates, we are left wondering how far he will go to get the couple out.
Joe’s and Natalie’s intent—their hostile takeover of the residence—is made frighteningly evident when boxes begin arriving, addressed to the them rather than the current resident. Their actions are premeditated, although the why of it all remains just beyond comprehension. As the play progresses, we are pulled into the lives of the couple as they reveal an increasingly detailed and emotional journey through past trauma (perhaps theirs, we never know for sure). That Redelmo is raising his dead brother’s children increases his own susceptibility to the couple’s tale of family displacement. Redelmo unwittingly takes on the role of the displaced while the couple emerges as conquering tyrants despite, or perhaps because of, their (possible) past trauma.
Earlier productions of The Ding Dongs, including the 2011 inaugural production at the Harbor Actors Theater (directed by Jeffrey Withers, Brenda Wither’s brother) included background scenery and set props typically found in a furnished room. Under Rebecca Bradshaw’s direction, the setting is minimalist: a door mat, a throw rug, and various cardboard boxes—some of which seem to have something alive inside (perhaps the couple’s triplets, maybe something more sinister). This simplicity creates a sense of space open to interpretation, readily filled with the imaginings of our past experiences of place, of home.
It is easy to take for granted the ownership of land and the structures that occupy it, to disregard those who came before. The Ding Dongs offers, for anyone willing to listen, voices of disenfranchisement that echo across time. The supercharged performances by Nael Nacer—his fear and desperation is palpable—and by Karl Gregory and Erica Steinhagen—who ace a segment of tandem dialogue that reminds us that the couple just might be telling the truth, at least about the their displacement—pull us toward a riveting conclusion that left me wondering what if and reminded me that home, and homeland, is, like all things, transient and fleeting.
I have always loved the Kitchen Theatre Company for its intimate space and the corresponding intimate plays chosen for the space. My earliest viewings were in the 1990’s, at their former location in the historic Clinton House, under the artistic direction of Rachel Lampert. Although I fade nostalgic when it comes to Ithaca, especially since moving away, I was thrilled when the theatre retained that intimate feel with the exciting (2009) move to its “new” space on West State Street/Martin Luther King Jr. Drive—a LEED-certified green building with a 90-seat performance venue—and was excited to be welcomed in for this most recent performance. I look forward to attending the remaining shows in their exciting 2022-2023 schedule: No Child, March 28- April 16 and And I And Silence, May 30 – June 18. For those who have yet to see The Ding Dongs, the play runs through February 19th.
https://www.kitchentheatre.org/
417 West State/ MLK, Jr. St., Ithaca, NY 14850
