Something Fishy at the Dixie

by Laura Bond, The Ruston Daily Reader

Elaborate costumes and scenery can be breathtaking accessories for a theatrical production. They are not, however, essential to creating an interesting, funny or believable show. Neither is having props or casting actors who look the parts. This was evident as national touring group Springer Theatricals presented the comedic play A Tuna Christmas on Tuesday evening at the Dixie Center for the Arts.

On a virtually unchanging set and holding make-believe cameras and pretending to gobble down snacks, two actors brought the story of a small, colorful, fictitious Texas town to life. Each actor played 11 characters, several of them female, which involved lightning-fast costume changes and drastic alterations to their posture, voices and personal gestures.

The production, co-written and directed by University of Alabama graduate Ed Howard, is one of several plays revolving around the eccentric characters in Texas’ third smallest city, including Greater Tuna, Red, White and Tuna and Tuna Does Vegas.

Among the characters of A Tuna Christmas is Bertha Bumiller, whose attempts to hold her family together as she copes with a rebellious son and unfaithful husband prompt audience members’ concern. Wearing a dark wig fixed in a bun, Georgia’s Jef Holbrook is convincing as a small-town housewife who refuses to dance because she’s Baptist.

Didi Snavely, a cigarette-smoking, raspy-voiced used-weapons shop owner played by author and actor Topher Payne, appeared to be an audience favorite. Talking about the importance of toting weapons during the holidays, this outspoken woman remarks, “Wouldn’t you rather shoot somebody than watch them run off with your new toaster? I would.” Vera Carp, a domineering, culturally insensitive snob also played by Payne, produced a lot of laughs as she created a holiday yard display with live sheep and pulled “dirty” words from the town’s production of A Christmas Carol, in her role as a member of the Smut Snatchers organization.

The show maintained the attention of an audience of hundreds that included commuters from Monroe. Barely five minutes passed without eruptions of laughter at the twisted depictions of southern living. At the close, the sea of onlookers got out of their seats for a standing ovation to recognize the hard work put into the two-man show.