REVIEW: How the Sausage Gets Made (Faction of Fools)
Feels like it’s been a while since I cracked open this website! I’m back from a few weeks of much-needed vacation abroad, and I’m excited to get the ball rolling on the 25-26 DC theatre season! First up to bat is the masked goofballs at Capitol Hill’s Faction of Fools with their own in-house semi-musical political farce, How the Sausage Gets Made.
Book/Music
It’s easy to pull of a crowd-pleasing political satire in this era when modern politics sort of does it for you. Local DC crowds also get a kick out of any self-referential diplomatic rigamarole. Both of these come to a head when the piece is being performed merely blocks from the henhouse itself. (In fact, the low-hanging fruit of it all sometimes elicits a pre-emptive groan, coming from someone who is more focused on local politics than national.) But in Sausage, these cheap jabs are delivered with such a pleasant gaggle of wonks that it’s hard to hold these same gripes — even if the multiple false-ends of Act I feel gaslighty. Following the sudden death of a Nebraska senator at the young age of 112, Rep. Tanthony Banks is summoned to replace him, and in his stead is the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Nathan Newbright ready to carpe that diem. Newbright was elected on the promising concept of some taxpayer-funded building where books are lent to people for free — a “labubu”, I think he calls it — and is heck-bent on jutting through the legislature on Day 1. Of course that’s not how things work, as his chief of staff Atticus Brief reminds him (via song). The semi-Brechtian original score by Jesse Terrill is pleasantly catchy and never overstays its welcome, allowing the affable cast to do their thing without the tension of the next musical number sneaking up. Antagonizing Newbright is the human-powered political machine of both the opposing Vegan party and his own coalition, as everything seems to work in contrast to his beliefs. But his aggressive optimism overcomes most hurdles through stupid (non-derogatory) word play, acronyms, and puns; I can’t say I’ve ever cared this much about the Nebraskan house delegation before. 7/10
Acting
It’s Kathryn Zoerb’s innocently plucky Newbright that is the emotional glue of this cast, which honestly doesn’t even need much to begin with. The vivid characterization from this ensemble is cartoonish enough to bring healthy slapstickiness without dumbing things down. A supporting trio of Arika Thames (Frances Kina), Rebecca Ballinger (Natalya Marie/Dottie Butts), and Robert Pike (Bruiser Uppercut) are other standouts in an already strong group, each ironclad in their characters and enjoyable every second. 8/10
Production
Francesca Chilcote’s effusive direction impresses in the small space of the Capitol Hill Arts Workshop. As shocking as it is to see everyone maskless in the opening moments, their role as a “media chorus” is a clever choice that is only emboldened by their all-seeing eyes that appear at will, as well as the impressively agile lighting designs from William K. D’Eugenio. Of course, Tara Cariaso’s wriggly commedia masks are still a hit, and they are uber-effective at characterizing the gaggle alongside Cidney Forkbah’s hilarious costumes (I’ve never been so impressed with the art of making a tie before). 8/10
Viz
Johnny Weisberger’s set design is surprisingly sparse beyond its primary motif: an endless tunnel of Greco-Roman columns collapsing as it goes further back. It’s very well detailed and produced and sticks with the show brilliantly well beyond entering the intimate space, even when the only other set pieces that show up are a desk or two. Beyond this, there’s an inherent silliness, A Funny Thing… style that permeates the production and implicitly tells the audience this will be farcical. 8/10
Verdict
Sausage is a peppy, bitingly local work that plays a little too much with the tropes of a middlebrow political caper to blow anyone away, but is delivered with so much charisma that it’s well worth the experience. 31/40
