American Hero 

Reviewed by Paul Birchall
IAMA Theatre Company
Through October 21

RECOMMENDED

It’s an American dream to imagine yourself rich and powerful: recall Steinbeck’s old saying that the poor see themselves not as an exploited proletariat but as temporarily embarrassed millionaires. So much of our culture revolves around stories of the powerful and the talented and the wealthy that it’s really quite refreshing to see a show that focuses on those folks who don’t even achieve the level of middle management. Playwright Bess Wohl’s comedy about several exploited proletarians slinging sandwiches at a franchise subway shop, a la Quiznos, is a tour de force of quirky irony. It’s a workplace comedy set at a place no one would ever work at by choice, but it’s also warmed by the idea that you can find meaning and purpose anywhere.

A trio of worker drones are hired to be a “sandwich team” at a soon-to-open sandwich shop that’s part of a megalithic chain which has already over-saturated the city it’s in. The three —befuddled fast food drone Sheri (Laura Mann), sexy slacker Jamie (Anna LaMadrid), and downsized corporate executive Ted (Graham Outerbridge) — are drilled by the edgy and rather desperate franchise owner, sad-faced Asian-American immigrant Bob (Rodney To) in the intricacies of creating corporate approved hoagies. Even as he times the crew (to ensure they prep just the right amount of sandwich within the 2-minute time span), the agitated, clearly miserable Bob already seems to be in over his head.

Bob vanishes from the store shortly after the restaurant’s grand opening, leaving the trio to run the place themselves — a problematic circumstance exacerbated by the fact that supplies stop coming from the corporate distributors. This forces the sandwich makers to truly fend for themselves. Desperation segues into imagination, and they discover how to whip quality out of corporate mediocrity.

Wohl’s comedy captures the sense of a contained, almost claustrophobic universe, in which we start to believe that there’s nothing more important than whether mediocre sandwiches can be made with the precise measurement of secret sauce. Her dialogue is sprightly, and the characters are a perfect mix of underachievers and dedicated American exceptionalists. There’s a zaniness to their behavior that is simultaneously ridiculous and a little sad. Director James Eckhouse’s affectionate tone, which melds whimsy with a snarky attitude towards the all too recognizable corporate culture, is executed with style and surprising urgency.

The ensemble work is tight and funny. As a dozy slacker who unexpectedly develops a steel backbone, Mann is a delight — as is Outerbridge as the oft-fired corporate middleman whose cognitive dissonance burgeons into a fierce devotion to fast-food prep. LaMadrid delights as the sexy co-worker who tries to flirt her way to the top, but with unexpectedly bizarre results. To, playing a variety of customers, corporate executives, the store manager, and even, in one astonishing sequence, the so-called “ghost of the sandwich god,” is amazingly versatile, with perfect, deadpan timing. He’s particularly good as the Mephistophelean man from corporate who shows up unexpectedly.

Carrie Hamilton Theatre at the Pasadena Playhouse, 39 S. El Molino Ave., Pasadena; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7 p.m.; through Oct. 21. (323) 380-8843 or  https://iamatheatre.com. Running time: 90 minutes with no intermission.