ANIMAL CONTROL: A BAD DAWG TALE
A Theater Review by Julinda D. Lewis
At: The Firehouse Theatre, 1609 W. Broad Street, RVA 23220
Performances: April 17 – May 12, 2019
Ticket Prices: $15/student; $25/military; $35/general admission
Info: (804) 355-2001 or firehousetheatre.org
Richmonders who are familiar with the name Chandler Hubbard probably know him as an actor, but this month Hubbard is making his debut as author of the new play Animal Control for which he received the 2019 Martha Hill Newell Playwrights Fund award. Like most comedies, Animal Control tackles some tough, real-life subjects and their accompanying emotions – anger, blame, justice, and ultimately compassion. Sometimes it’s difficult to decide whether to laugh or cry.
Director Joel Bassin, Producing Artistic Director of the Firehouse Theatre, noted that during the dress rehearsal and first two showings it became obvious that pet-owners were more likely to take the quiet route as they found the issues close to their hearts. Set in a dingy office in the Carson County Pound, the play opens as the center’s newly appointed director, Kim Hawkins (played by the versatile Donna Marie Miller), deals with complaints and repeat offenders. The main offender, a three-legged pit bull rescue named Bailey, who has been adopted by the equally menacing owner, Dan Stanley (played by Arik Cullen who towers over everyone at well over 6’), has allegedly attacked another dog at the dog park.
Adam Turck plays Marc Hanson, the persnickety owner of Winnie – short for Winston, as in Churchill – who files the most damning complaint against Dan and Bailey. Marc (with a “c” he takes pains to explain) has pictures of the injuries his dog sustained and as the tension piles on, Dan’s neighbor, another frequent phoner of complaints, Patty Smith (Lucretia Marie Anderson) also shows up in Ms. Hawkins’ office. All of this is overwhelming for Hawkins, who would rather deal with dogs than people, but she has the dubious back-up of her office associate, Corrine Lowell (Journey Entzminger), an insolent college student who has an affinity for the dogs and an unlikely friendship with her frazzled supervisor.
Bassin directs this eclectic cast of characters with an ebb and flow, a cycle of tension and release that sometimes reaches explosive levels. Expletives fly, Dan towers over everyone, and Corrine is an ever constant presence with her irreverent but much needed wit and sarcasm. Patty seems at first to be an extraneous presence, but she has a key scene with Hawkins and her role is integral to the final resolution. Miller makes Hawkins sympathetic, offsetting moments of indecision with insight and clarity. I’m not familiar with Entzminger, so I’m not sure how much of a stretch it was for her – a junior Business Management student at VCU – to play the insolent college student so convincingly. Surprisingly, she has the final word. Adam Turk is fittingly annoying as the owner of the injured dog, and Arik Cullen, who seemed to enjoy the role of the bad boy, holds the key to the compassionate conclusion.
At the beginning of each scene two actors stand behind the chain link fences on either side of the stage, smoking, texting, or just thinking. While I found this transition interesting, I was distracted by the set. Phil Hayes designed an authentically drab break room that doubles as Kim Hawkins office – with just a folding table for a desk. What bothered me was that the sides of the set were not built all the way out to the theater’s walls, so we could see the scaffold-like edges and supporting brace just behind the chain link fences. I know it’s a set, but I don’t want to see the behind-the-scenes workings. Andrew Bonniwell designed the lighting – no special effects needed here – and Ryan Dygert designed the sound – with dogs barking in the background.
Without giving away too much of the show, Hubbard makes it impossible to take sides by presenting multiple sides of the issue and throwing in a couple of emotionally loaded surprises.
Animal Control is written in three scenes (The Prosecution, The Defense, and The Verdict), with two intermissions and runs a little over two hours, including the intermissions. I thought it was rather well paced, but my partner found it a bit too long. It should be mentioned that neither of us owns a pet, which I think makes a difference. I heard more than one sniffle, that I do not attribute to seasonal allergies, and observed at least one attendee feeling a bit verklempt, waving a hand to ward off tears in the lobby after the show.
Julinda D. Lewis is a dancer, teacher, and writer who was born in Brooklyn, NY and now lives in Eastern Henrico County.
Photo Credits: Tom Topinka